Many Years of Poems

So on Wednesday (St. Paddy's Day), we'll have the family pics, and I'll show off my new 'do. I'll post the before pic Mini-me took as well, so you can see the difference.

I'm not feeling so hot today. I'm wondering if I'm running a fever; maybe it's just allergies. Allergies can really drag me down, health-wise; it's annoying as fuck.

The container garden is going well. I thinned the cilantro yesterday; hopefully it does okay. It's been growing like gangbusters so hopefully it's healthy enough for the transplantation. We found some more big containers that a neighbor was getting rid of, so I'll probably put some of the cilantro in one of those, and save the rest for my tomatoes once they're ready to be transplanted. Soon enough it will be time for the garden to live outside permanently, except for some of the herb seedlings, which I'm going to baby for a little longer. The big tomato plants are growing well, and the tomato seedlings will soon be ready to be transplanted; Bill bought a bell pepper plant, so we'll have fresh salsa out of the garden this summer. Yum yum!

That's about all the news that's fit to print around here.

For the last several days, I have awakened with a stuffy nose and a sore throat. Last night my body started hurting, mainly in my muscles and joints. I've spent most of today in bed.

If I were sneezing or coughing or running a fever, I'd suspect flu of some sort. If I still feel this crappy tomorrow, I'm calling my doctor.

ICK.

Ugh. I've been sick still. I can't seem to get well. I went to the doctor and they said it was gastroenteritis. So joy.

I still haven't had my birthday dinner with my family because my stomach has been too upset.

It's also that time of month. Double joy.

I can't sleep at night either; I've been sleeping all day and staying up at night, which I need to stop doing.

I'm more or less okay though, just keeping weird hours.

I've been reading a lot of Katherine Kurtz, who has long been one of my favorite authors. I picked up most of the Adept series at Chamblin's and read the first one but I don't have the second one so I'm stuck there. I re-read Lammas Night for about the nine thousandth time. I also re-read Deryni Magic for about the three zillionth time. I'm in kind of an esoteric frame of mind because of all that. I'm thinking it might be time to do something spiritual for myself, maybe not as elaborate as my healing ritual but something; I'm just not sure exactly what yet.

So, no, not dead, nothing bad, just tired.

Sorry I haven't been around. I've been praying to the porcelain god a lot.

I'm still sick. I went to the doctor yesterday afternoon, and I do indeed have strep throat. Which means that Cliff and Nicholas have probably both had it recently/are still fighting it off.

Oh crap. That reminds me, I'm supposed to find Cliff's bloodwork paperwork and schedule him for his bloodwork and schedule an appointment with his doctor so he can get on antibiotics for the strep infection. And I can't tear the bedroom apart right now because Nicholas is asleep. Shit.

I feel like the Typhoid Mary for not having caught on that it was a strep infection sooner. But it was only when I got sick that I thought to have anybody's throat rapid-cultured. But who knows how many people have gotten sick because I didn't think to make Cliff go to the doctor when he was sick or drag Nicholas' sick behind to the ER, as sick as he was with it.

Oh well. I guess I shouldn't beat myself up over it.

Ugh. Being sick just saps your energy level. I haven't done anything significant in three days and I'm exhausted.

Apparently I'm sicker than I thought I was.

( Digestive TMI )

Bleah. *feels like crap*

ETA: I may have strep throat. That's one of the illnesses that can cause both symptoms at the same time, and it seems the most likely candidate. I've always been pretty susceptible to strep throat. If I don't start feeling better by the time Cliff comes home from work, I'll have Dixie drive me to the ER.

So Nicholas and I were lying in bed talking and he pointed out (damn it, I hoped no one would notice) that I don't take care of Nora. I make sure everybody else is taken care of but I neglect myself. He said he has never known a woman who makes as little an effort on her appearance as I do.

He's right. Half the time I don't comb my hair, I have to remind myself to brush my teeth (yuck, I know), and I neglect my health by letting my weight get as high as it is and smoking. I don't remember the last time I wore makeup, but it has to have been at least four years. I should throw out my makeup if I can even find it and buy new but I never wear it so why bother? He pointed out that I should have worn makeup to Jen's wedding, but I didn't, largely because it never even occurred to me at the time. I did style my hair and wear a dressy dress and dress shoes and stockings, but I didn't even consider putting on makeup.

I've forgotten how it feels to care about myself and my appearance. I think I've forgotten how to do it.

I could seriously stand to lose half my body weight, and at least ten dress sizes. My hair is presently a horrendous tangled bun on the back of my head. Why do I even keep it long if I don't take care of it? (It's slightly too short to sit on.)

He's gotten me taking walks, sometimes with him, sometimes by myself or with CC, to try to lose some weight and work on my cardiovascular fitness. My eating habits aren't that bad, but I could improve in that area too. On days when I don't walk (bad weather, whatever), I do yoga, which is not that great for cardio but feels good. And it's exercise, right? Anything is better than nothing in that area.

So how do you break the habit of not giving a shit about yourself? I seriously don't know what to do, how to be, so that I care about myself.

He made me cry by saying that I'm a beautiful, wonderful person who deserves love, both from others and from myself.

I don't know how.

Well, Tuesday night, I was trying to go to bed but my heart started racing and I could swear I felt my heart thrashing in my chest. I was short of breath, couldn't breathe lying down, and Cliff said my pulse was all weird. After a while the weird feeling in my chest turned into actual pain, so I went to the hospital.

Everything checks out fine; I didn't have a heart attack, and my heart is fine. They did an EKG and monitored my heart and breathing for a day, and they did a stress test on me (damn, do those things feel weird) and told me to watch my diet (low fat, low sodium, the usual cardiac thing) and sent me home.

But it scared the crap out of all three of us. So Nicholas threw out a mostly full pack of Djarum Cherry (damn it, those taste good, too), and I am not allowed to smoke. Any more. At all. Full stop.

I haven't had a cigarette since before the episode Tuesday night, and I actually feel kind of okay with that. Not that I'd turn one down, but I don't feel as fucked up as I usually feel without smoking. We'll see how I handle an emotional crisis sans smokie treats.