Yup, you guessed it.
I was too sick to go to Wound Care today.
Woke up this morning feeling hot all over, just like yesterday. Especially my face. It felt like someone was aiming a hair dryer at it.
And I was dizzy and headache-y and such as well. God damn it.
So I sat there between 8 am and 9 am willing myself to get well and guzzling water like I was trying to create blue skies on the Arrakis of my stomach.
I drank over 3L of water in that time and while it made me feel a little better, for the most part it made no difference at all.
So I had to call up the CCC and tell them I could not make it. AGAIN.
And I freak haaaaaate this. I really didn’t want to have to make that call. I was looking forward to getting out of the apartment and have a nurse take care of my feet.
Oh, and just to spike the pain of it, the nurse I was going to see today called to make sure I was OK, and he sounded hot and had a mild French-Canadian accent.
So not only have I been cooped up in the house all day, but I missed having Jean Pierre and his sexy accent working on my feet. Dammit.
Oh well, At least I didn’t have to worry about getting an obvious boner, though I am pretty sure nurses are trained to ignore that kind of thing
Unless, ya know, they’re interested.
“What’s this sticking out of the bandage? Holy crap, it’s a phone number!”
It could happen!
Oh, and the kicker is that after I went back to sleep for a couple of hours, I felt a lot better when I woke up.
Not totally better, sadly. I still feel all heated up inside. But I don’t feel nearly as ill as I did this morning and I can live with the heat for now.
Hopefully that means that whatever this is, it’s on its way out.
It all makes me wish I had the option of getting a home visit from a nurse. I imagine getting an imaginary “ticket” every three months and being able to call in and instead of saying I am sick, I just say, “I’m using my ticket. ” and voila, I would get a home care nurse visit later that day.
Speaking of home visits, tomorrow the Occupational Therapist will be dropping by and teaching me how to weave baskets for cash.
OK, not really. She’ll be here to assess my needs so she can tell the province what they need to get me in order to make me better able to live a healthy. capable life.
As far as I am concerned, she is here for one reason and one reason only : to get me a shower chair, god dammit.
I want to be able to shower so bad. Sometimes when I am taking a leak, I look over into my shower and sigh wistfully because I miss being able to shower so much.
I may try to clean my room up some before she shows up. Not that I think she will judge me for living in such filth and mess. But her coming might give me the impetus I need in order to get my shit together and actually tidy up some.
My shit has been apart for so long that I don’t know if it even fits together any more.
That’s something I am going to try to fix. I want to feel together and focused and powerful and healthy and able to pursue my desires instead of being this being that’s all wrapped up in himself and still very emotionally isolated.
But that wall inside me is breaking down.
Some day, I will be strong enough to be free.
Oh, and if I still feel this way tomorrow, I’m going to Urgent Care.
More after the break.
More about tomorrow
This trend of actually continuing to talk about what I talked about in part 1 is wild.
What’s next? This blog spontaneously evolving a format?
Well, technically, it has a format. The format is, “what Fru is thinking about when he sits down to write on his blog”.
Readers who are not my beloved friends might want more than that, though.
Like I said in the above, if I still feel all hot tomorrow, I will go to Urgent Care after the Occupational Therapy lady is gone.
And tomorrow is also Deposit Day, so I would really like to get my banking done so this five week month can officially be over and I can order the new battery for my tablet.
A tablet is, of course, a female tab.
Or would that be a “tablette”?
This feeling so hot I feel like I am glowing is Not Good. But it so far has not come with much in the way of suffering, and it would be all too easy to be a child about it like I have with so many things before and decide if it doesn’t hurt, it’s not a problem.
Kind of discount the very concept of preventative medicine.
But no, this has hung on long enough to force me to deal with it. If it’s still around tomorrow, I will have to assume it’s not going to get better any time soon.
Of course, knowing my luck, I will go through all the hassle of going to Urgent Care and they will do tests and take my temp and then declare there to be nothing wrong with me.
And then I will feel foolish and embarrassed and ashamed of wasting everyone’s time, even though I know the doctor will SAY it was the right thing to come in.
But I can tell they’re disappointed. Damned empathy.
As you can tell, I don’t have any faith that this mysterious condition will disappear on its own. My immune system has had a good chance to tackle it, and struck out.
So I am gearing up for an annoying, boring, and potentially humiliating experience.
No wonder I’m such a cheery soul.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.