Ack.
Things I hate today:
1. Bright lights.
2. Triamcinolone. Side effects include nausea and vomiting, headache, dizziness, chills, and nosebleeds. I forget what it actually does. In FACT, I suspect that this IS what it does - the side effects make your actual illness look better by comparison. I could have dropped a brick on my foot and accomplished the same thing.
3. People who are cheery about what's wrong with me. The next person that says, 'It could be worse,' had better count their teeth first. I am aware that I am still alive, which is by most accounts "better than the alternative". I get it. That doesn't change much right now.
4. The fact that no one seems to care that I can't sleep because when I lie down I feel like there's a smallish person (or largish cat) on my chest. That's secondary to everything else. Meanwhile, I am dying of sleep deprivation.
To add insult to illness, I talked to Tim. He informed me that sometime last winter (I will offer no conjecture), his coat was stolen. It is fall in Iowa right now and forty degrees. It will only get colder. I found a warm coat on sale at LL Bean, rearranged my own plans in order to pay for it, and had it shipped to him post-haste, because it was the decent human thing to do and because I am codependent. He accused me of trying to "buy" his affection (I don't want his affection) and informed me that he didn't need "charity"... and then took the coat. Didn't ask how I was feeling (except to say, 'I looked up the spleen thing - that doesn't make any sense. Sorry, but it doesn't.'), didn't thank me, didn't even acknowledge the sentiment except to inform me that I had failed (I was damned if I did and damned if I didn't, so I knew that)... meanwhile I'm TIRED. *sigh* And I won't do a damn thing to stop it because I live under a gigantic Tim-guilt blanket all the time.
Okay, I'm finished feeling put-upon by life today.
*takes out the happy-face and puts it back on*
1. Bright lights.
2. Triamcinolone. Side effects include nausea and vomiting, headache, dizziness, chills, and nosebleeds. I forget what it actually does. In FACT, I suspect that this IS what it does - the side effects make your actual illness look better by comparison. I could have dropped a brick on my foot and accomplished the same thing.
3. People who are cheery about what's wrong with me. The next person that says, 'It could be worse,' had better count their teeth first. I am aware that I am still alive, which is by most accounts "better than the alternative". I get it. That doesn't change much right now.
4. The fact that no one seems to care that I can't sleep because when I lie down I feel like there's a smallish person (or largish cat) on my chest. That's secondary to everything else. Meanwhile, I am dying of sleep deprivation.
To add insult to illness, I talked to Tim. He informed me that sometime last winter (I will offer no conjecture), his coat was stolen. It is fall in Iowa right now and forty degrees. It will only get colder. I found a warm coat on sale at LL Bean, rearranged my own plans in order to pay for it, and had it shipped to him post-haste, because it was the decent human thing to do and because I am codependent. He accused me of trying to "buy" his affection (I don't want his affection) and informed me that he didn't need "charity"... and then took the coat. Didn't ask how I was feeling (except to say, 'I looked up the spleen thing - that doesn't make any sense. Sorry, but it doesn't.'), didn't thank me, didn't even acknowledge the sentiment except to inform me that I had failed (I was damned if I did and damned if I didn't, so I knew that)... meanwhile I'm TIRED. *sigh* And I won't do a damn thing to stop it because I live under a gigantic Tim-guilt blanket all the time.
Okay, I'm finished feeling put-upon by life today.
*takes out the happy-face and puts it back on*