Status Quo
I feel like my life has become rather one-note lately, and that one note has been my health problems. On the other hand, with me mostly not-working (about to become completely not-working) and most of my hobbies taken away by said health problems, I'm having a hard time having much of anything else in my life.
Applying for disability is a fascinating exploration of paperwork at its most complex and gratuitous. I'm not sure why they need to know how much I earned hourly as an official school tutor in 1998, or why they had to ask me three times if I'm blind, or why I could choose American Sign Language as my preferred written language, but if I have to jump through these hoops to stay solvent during my recovery I will.
I'm doing my best not to panic about work. Most of the clinics I work at have been fairly understanding about my extended unavailability, but I can't help but worry that by the time I can work again they will have found other relief vets and won't need me anymore.
Most of all, I'm just trying to come to terms with decreased expectations. I have a strong inner voice yammering that, since I'm not working, I should be able to keep the house clean and do the dishes and get lots of errands run and pick up a few new hobbies and spend lots of time out doing stuff with friends and learn a new language and just generally Do Stuff, and that if I spend a day napping and reading and watching TV that I am somehow failing at making good use of my time.
And this is at odds with the fact that, ultimately, I am in fairly crappy shape, and that on days like today I need to spend my first three hours of consciousness negotiating the war between my head (which is desperately clamoring for liquids to help with the dehydration headache pounding away there) and my stomach (which is asserting that any attempt to ingest anything will be met with refusal and/or violent rebellion).
I want off these meds. I want to feel better. I want to be a person again, not a passive vector for various discomforts....
Applying for disability is a fascinating exploration of paperwork at its most complex and gratuitous. I'm not sure why they need to know how much I earned hourly as an official school tutor in 1998, or why they had to ask me three times if I'm blind, or why I could choose American Sign Language as my preferred written language, but if I have to jump through these hoops to stay solvent during my recovery I will.
I'm doing my best not to panic about work. Most of the clinics I work at have been fairly understanding about my extended unavailability, but I can't help but worry that by the time I can work again they will have found other relief vets and won't need me anymore.
Most of all, I'm just trying to come to terms with decreased expectations. I have a strong inner voice yammering that, since I'm not working, I should be able to keep the house clean and do the dishes and get lots of errands run and pick up a few new hobbies and spend lots of time out doing stuff with friends and learn a new language and just generally Do Stuff, and that if I spend a day napping and reading and watching TV that I am somehow failing at making good use of my time.
And this is at odds with the fact that, ultimately, I am in fairly crappy shape, and that on days like today I need to spend my first three hours of consciousness negotiating the war between my head (which is desperately clamoring for liquids to help with the dehydration headache pounding away there) and my stomach (which is asserting that any attempt to ingest anything will be met with refusal and/or violent rebellion).
I want off these meds. I want to feel better. I want to be a person again, not a passive vector for various discomforts....