It’s been a day. And a half. I’ve been having trouble with routers and telephone service, and networking issues, and I’ve spent much of today trying to figure those out, as well as edit an old contract to make it fit with the way real people do business these days… and then came the communist uprising.
How many euphemisms do you know for it? Aunt Flo, the red tide, the red menace, communist invasion, the dot, monthlies. Yeah, I’m talking about menstruation, which I can’t help but pronounce, even in my head, with my lips moving oddly for the memory of my father trying to be hip and cool talking to me about it many, many years ago. You know, (whisper it) that time of the month.
Mine was always late, and later, and the cramps were always hell. And then I had kids and suddenly they were 21 days apart (I would have preferred farther), lasted three days, and I could sing like Maria in the mountains of Switzerland, without a care.
This last few months I’ve regressed to my teen years, periods further apart and each time the cramping is worse, so bad it keeps me from standing upright, severe swelling of my hands and feet; serious cravings for, of all things, beef jerky or the old standby, chocolate, depending. Depending on what, I do not know. And only if I’m not nauseated, which I am right now.
So, I come here intending to upload my painmap and talk about silly euphemisms and men-z-trew-ashun, and Flickr doesn’t like me.
So, here, mental picture for you.
I’m wearing a pink thermal fabric nightgown. It’s kind of pretty. The rest of me, not so much. Swollen hands with visible veins standing up and staring at me. Swollen feet, bad enough that it hurts to walk on them. Glands that have, again, made my neck disappear.
For the picture, we have dots up the spine, radiating outward from the spine, knees, feet, hands, elbows, shoulders, the usual culprits, and a lovely band around my abdomen and lower back. It’s red. I feel like I’m in labor.
I had to take my humira shot today. It hurt. I was clumsy and impatient and I don’t think I put it in the right place, again.
So, here you go, another mental picture for you.
Calendar has a big red X on it and a big purple H. Don’t let me forget. I hate missing my Humira.
What a day. Maybe tomorrow, if I get some sleep in the next couple of hours, I’ll actually get some work done. Not that I expect to sleep.
Ouch.
You know, I’m not sure what to call it when one is so obsessed with being here (almost) every day that I must post right now. I wouldn’t call it dedication. Stupidity, perhaps.
