I'm really running out of shit I can do while in bed, here.
Ha. "Invisible Disability Bingo Card". Reminds me of "Stupid Shit People Say to Me".
Seriously, if I hear one more person wishing they could "do what [I] do" and "stay in bed all day", I might start throwing things. I haven't been to work in almost three weeks now. Is anyone actually stupid enough to think that I'm just lazing around because it's fun and that it feels good, instead of that I'm lying there because I'm mind-breakingly exhausted and in pain, wishing I could be at work and trying not to freak out that I'm going to lose my job?
Anyway. A health update has been requested of me, so here it is:
I am managing. I am not well -- I'm still dizzy enough all the time that just bending down to take food out of the fridge makes my vision swim, and I had to lie down on the floor for fifteen minutes after trying to put away a few cans of soup in a high cupboard -- but I'm within the spectrum of stuff I have coping strategies for. I have the walker with the seat on it, so I can sit in that while I take things out of the fridge and fix basic no-cooking meals on the counter. The way my heart pounds frantically over something as simple as going from bedroom to kitchen to get a glass of water kind of freaks me out, but since I'm fairly certain it's not actually going to explode anytime soon, I'm not that worried about it. It's just... disconcerting.
My parents have been over to help out -- I made a grocery list of everything I'd need for a week of "no cooking more complicated than sticking something in the microwave for five minutes because using the stove is probably unwise just now" and my mom did a grocery run for me, while my dad unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher and took out my recycling and stuff. They are behaving very well so far, which means I can just be plain old grateful for the help, and I am. I've asked my mom to stop in here on her way home from work tomorrow so I can have somebody in the apartment when I attempt to shower tomorrow, since there's a good chance it'll go badly. Not so badly that I expect I'll fall over and crack my head open, but I'd like someone on the other side of the door just in case, and preferably not my father or brother, who would not cope well with having to rescue a naked, bloody, unconscious me from the floor. I'm not sure I would cope well with having my mother do it, but hey, necessity wins.
So things suck, but I have help, and apart from being incredibly bored and frustrated as all hell, I'm basically fine.
....I can't believe I just typed that. Wow. I really do have some fucked up definitions of words. Quoth my dad: "Sweetheart, you have a weird definition of the word 'bad'." Because I had said this wasn't overly so. I mean, yes, I know other people have it way worse than me. Hell, I am friends with someone who has, in fact, dealt with severe non-stop vertigo 24/7 for years, who can probably look at my situation -- hanging onto things, falling over in the shower, using the walls around my apartment to make sure I know which way is up when the room spins, not being able to bend down or reach up too high because it makes the world tilt, depending on the walker, etc -- and laugh. But still. My perspective is a little fucked up. So okay, maybe I'm not "fine", but I SAID I WAS COPING. That's like the same thing, right?
Seriously, if I hear one more person wishing they could "do what [I] do" and "stay in bed all day", I might start throwing things. I haven't been to work in almost three weeks now. Is anyone actually stupid enough to think that I'm just lazing around because it's fun and that it feels good, instead of that I'm lying there because I'm mind-breakingly exhausted and in pain, wishing I could be at work and trying not to freak out that I'm going to lose my job?
Anyway. A health update has been requested of me, so here it is:
I am managing. I am not well -- I'm still dizzy enough all the time that just bending down to take food out of the fridge makes my vision swim, and I had to lie down on the floor for fifteen minutes after trying to put away a few cans of soup in a high cupboard -- but I'm within the spectrum of stuff I have coping strategies for. I have the walker with the seat on it, so I can sit in that while I take things out of the fridge and fix basic no-cooking meals on the counter. The way my heart pounds frantically over something as simple as going from bedroom to kitchen to get a glass of water kind of freaks me out, but since I'm fairly certain it's not actually going to explode anytime soon, I'm not that worried about it. It's just... disconcerting.
My parents have been over to help out -- I made a grocery list of everything I'd need for a week of "no cooking more complicated than sticking something in the microwave for five minutes because using the stove is probably unwise just now" and my mom did a grocery run for me, while my dad unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher and took out my recycling and stuff. They are behaving very well so far, which means I can just be plain old grateful for the help, and I am. I've asked my mom to stop in here on her way home from work tomorrow so I can have somebody in the apartment when I attempt to shower tomorrow, since there's a good chance it'll go badly. Not so badly that I expect I'll fall over and crack my head open, but I'd like someone on the other side of the door just in case, and preferably not my father or brother, who would not cope well with having to rescue a naked, bloody, unconscious me from the floor. I'm not sure I would cope well with having my mother do it, but hey, necessity wins.
So things suck, but I have help, and apart from being incredibly bored and frustrated as all hell, I'm basically fine.
....I can't believe I just typed that. Wow. I really do have some fucked up definitions of words. Quoth my dad: "Sweetheart, you have a weird definition of the word 'bad'." Because I had said this wasn't overly so. I mean, yes, I know other people have it way worse than me. Hell, I am friends with someone who has, in fact, dealt with severe non-stop vertigo 24/7 for years, who can probably look at my situation -- hanging onto things, falling over in the shower, using the walls around my apartment to make sure I know which way is up when the room spins, not being able to bend down or reach up too high because it makes the world tilt, depending on the walker, etc -- and laugh. But still. My perspective is a little fucked up. So okay, maybe I'm not "fine", but I SAID I WAS COPING. That's like the same thing, right?