Closed for business

back August.

Just need some time to rest and relax

Every breath you take…

every move I make.

That’s me right now. It was confirmed today by xray that I have pneumonia in my lower left lung. I am chugging two kinds of antibiotics, trying to eat and trying not to move. My whole left side feels like one giant stitch, which is odd to say, but I feel very tight and every breath kills me.

So, I’m ok, just trying to rest at home. I worked half a day on Monday, because seeing my city doctor resulted in me being sent home. I apparently had a virus. I was told to rest and take the next two days off work.

I rested and woke up Tuesday morning with this stitch thing. I thought I’d slept too long and maybe I’d twisted my back. Tuesday night came and I was having difficulty breathing and I had to sleep upright in the loungeroom’s recliner. I didn’t get much sleep last night because of it, kept waking up from the pain. A bit of self loathing and depression over it led to a bit of random crying of frustration which made it harder to breathe! haha. Listen to me carry on. I’m seriously ok

After speaking to my sister in law last night, she made me promise to see another doctor today. I was fortunate enough to catch the doctor I used to see when I lived in the suburb. She was fantastic, checking my kidneys, heart and pulse. She determined that I had pneumonia and sent me off to get xrays to make sure, as she put it, that I didnt need to be sent to hospital!

So picture this. Traumatic taxi ride from home to doctors - doesnt have a freakin’ clue where he’s going. Equally crap ride to the xray place resulting in the procurement of a Melways book older than me! And then the ride home with a driver who was both frustrating and nice.

We got the new car tonight. Glen had to go over and sign for it etc. It’s all good. We’ll start making it ours, putting the seat covers in and we’ll pick up the cargo barrier on Saturday and might get some rubber lining for the boot. It’s all good.

Anyway, I am tired and probably not making a great deal of sense. Yay for me! Rest assured, I am alive.

Heaven sent freedom prescribed

I used to blog so frequently. I think I had a lot more to say. Or, I had more time to say it. Or maybe more motivation to write it. I don’t know. These days, I just lack the interest in this blog that I once had. I mostly blame external factors, but there’s a large part of me that I can’t change right now. The part of me that dictates my moods right now.

I’ve been having a lot of trouble with my neck and migraines recently. The last few weeks, maybe months, I’ve been on a rollercoaster of migraines and general pain. It got to the point where I lost any hope to live a day without one. When you have a migraine for more than a day or two, you start to lose the hope that yes, it will go away. No matter how many drugs and natural remedies like wheat pillows and essential oils you throw at it, it never goes away. It’s always there bubbling under the surface. It’s easy to understand why you lose hope, why you just exist from one day to the next. Existence is not really living and over time, you start to feel that sleep trumps existence any day.

So, I slept. I’d get up for work, with the migraine firmly ensconced in my head and neck, drag myself to work, with limited productivity until I dragged myself home, ate dinner, was crabby for a few hours before I put everyone out of my misery and went to bed. I was so miserable. I stop being interested in pretty much anything I cared about before.

It finally got to the point where I realised that I was suffering needlessly and I made an appointment with my doctor. With migraines, you sometimes act without sense and you become paranoid. It’s part of the condition which I just learned recently. I had put the doctor’s appointment off because in my head, I had made the argument that my doctor would give me a hard time and wouldn’t prescribe the things I needed to get rid of the migraines. But I had to give it a try and see what happened.

The doctor took one look at me and asked two simple questions: “Do you have a migraine right now?” Yes. “How long have you had it for?” Over 10 days, on and off.

I walked out of the surgery with some hope. I have been prescribed a migraine preventative called Sandomigran and given a script for mersyndol forte in the event that they return.

That was last Friday. I have been without a migraine for about 10 days. Ironically, my last migraine was the afternoon of the first tablet. It was a really bad migraine which forced me to bed with two mersyndol fortes at 8pm. It was my last hurrah, as I’ve not had a migraine since. I’ve had auras and all sorts of other symptoms, but no migraine pain, as such. It’s so foreign to me.

The downside to the medication that I can see so far is it increases yours appetite and for some reason, I am finding it hard to wake up properly in the mornings and when I do sleep in, I feel really groggy and achy. It’s all very much trial and error right now, so I’ve got some options still. But to go this long without a migraine feels very surreal to me.

The culmination of no migraines has also been the delivery of our new chiropractic bed which has been heaven sent. I dont think I’ve slept this well in about six years, maybe more. It’s just weird!

So, as I’ve sorted out this problem, other problems can be focussed on and I guess that’s where I am at right now.

The painting at our house continues to occur. The June long weekend really proved productive, but Glen and I nearly killed ourselves painting the master bedroom. Two windows and an unreachable (in parts) wardrobe have proven difficult. However, it’s basically done.

Painting left to do:

• Bathroom, toilet, dining room/kitchen and laundry - all one colour
• computer room, which scares me beyond belief due to the amount of shit Glen continues to hoard in there
• Lounge room repaint - the original paint we rushed to get done on the weekend of settlement has never agreed with me and we’ll be painting over the offending walls - except for the lovely feature wall which stays

Then we’re done. It’s something I can’t quite believe, but it’s almost over if you look at it like that.  At some point, I’ll try to post before and after shots, but I might wait another week because I just lack the motivation and interest. See, this is where I am at - general lack of interest.

Stay tuned.

Cramped conditions, cramping my style

It would appear that my blog entries are quite sporadic and never particularly exciting, or uplifting. Truth be told, I haven’t felt 100% since before Christmas. It seems that I’ve suffered one thing after another and yes, it’s taking its toll on me mentally.

So if I don’t blog as often as I used to, it’s nothing personal. I just get sick of hearing the same moaning.

Currently I am afflicted with womanly issues which are compounded by estrogen tablets and painful cramps. Once I’m done with that, I’ll sit down and update with some photos of the painting we’ve managed to get done and whatever else I’ve been up to.

Really sick of

fucking coughing.

Have been coughing since February.

Doctor tells me without much testing (a lung capacity test) that I have a viral cough and she doesn’t know when it will go away.

Have been in bed for two hours and have woken myself up because of a nightmare, which turned into a coughing fit that has gone on for the last 30 minutes.

Why does viral always equate to - don’t want to give you any drugs for it?

Fucken sick of it. Cough means always tired, no sex, can’t sleep, sore throat, cough lollies, cough medicine, tissues, fatigued back, depression and futility.

I can deal with anything as long as there is a visible end.

Get over it

Seriously, I’m getting a little sick and tired of hearing people carrying on about the influenza immunisation shot that is being given this year.

Our work organisation has offered to give it to us for free this year. This promotes a healthy work environment and the organisation tries to ensure that people come to work - because they aren’t sick with the flu!

So, when I hear ill-informed people deliberating about the merits of the flu shot, I get a bit jack of it.

For crying out loud, it’s a dead vaccination! Dead! That means you AREN’T getting injected with a live influenza virus which means you only DISPLAY the symptoms, you don’t actually get them! It can last a few hours, or 24hours. Not DAYS, WEEKS like the real virus.

And for those who carry on about how they got the shot last year and they still got the flu. Bloody get over yourselves! The flu shot only covers the super dangerous, put-you-in-hospital-you-could-die flus. Not the little ones that keep you in bed for days, moaning and carrying on about how sick you are! Seriously! Just be happy that you didn’t get a worse version like the one YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN IMMUNISED FOR IF YOU HAD BLOODY JUST SHUT UP AND GONE TO GET A FREE SHOT!

And let’s not forget the fact that this flu shot takes up to two weeks to become effective - anything inside that period of time is just your dumb luck! Get over it.

And just remember one last thing. If your employer offers you a flu vaccination for free and you don’t have a legit excuse, such as being pregnant or allergic to the ingredients in the shot, like eggs and certain antibiotics, then remember this - your employer is not going to be happy to know that you opted not to get the shot and chose to become sick!

In this instance, the word FREE should not raise your suspicion!

Vent over. Apologies for the rant, but I’ve had enough of hearing ill-informed people carry on like it’s a government conspiracy. Seriously. Be concerned about the real issues like global warming and the injustice of the war in Iraq! Grrr.

Robert Decastello should no longer feel threatened

My running career has been cut short, for the time being.

I saw my chiropractor this afternoon and it was a particularly uncomfortable session and she asked me what I had been doing that might have contributed and I sorta kinda mentioned that I had been hammering the treadmill and I kinda mentioned then, that I had got carried away and began running.

So yeh, no more running. Not until it stops being such a strain on my hips and back. I’m disappointed, but I tried and although it wasn’t the best for my body, I proved to myself that I can actually run.

In other unpleasant news, I have developed a boil in the inside of my thigh and quite frankly, I’m a little more than put out! My legs rub together at that point and it’s very uncomfortable and sore! Bah humbug. For whatever reason, I am predisposed to getting such vile things. I guess it could be worse.

Anyway. It’s Tuesday night and we have two more days of work before the Easter weekend hits. Glen has an extra day off on Tuesday and I have taken leave that day, so it’ll be a nice five-day weekend

Maybe more later in the week. This updating thing is starting to take on a life of its own.

Mother hen coming home to roost

Thanks to everyone who sent messages and made comments in my blog. It means a lot to know there are people who are reading and who feel compelled to respond. It’s nice to know my blog entries compel some people to respond.

I hopped back on the treadmill yesterday. It’s been a week since I ran and I made the mistake of not stretching afterwards and also taking up Glen’s offer to massage my calves. So, yesterday after I ran, Glen massaged my legs and I stretched and it was good. So, I treadmilled tonight and although I couldn’t manage much running, I did walk a total of 30 minutes, so it’s nothing to be scoffed at.

There’s been a bit of a time lapse in starting this entry. I was interrupted by a phone call from my mother.

A bit of background here. Mum has been developing some health problems which have been severely affecting her life. She has been diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis and something associated with it called Sjogran’s Disease - I think. Anyway, she’s feeling down and it’s becoming harder for her to do things

Glen and I have been talking about this idea for a while and I guess I’ve always known that being the only child, there might come a time when I might need to take care of mum. Afterall, I am the only child and there is no Mr Sam’s Dad. I mean, there is - I am not the product of an immaculate conception and my father is out there somewhere, but I have lost track of him and I dare say, he could give a shit about me. So, I kinda always knew that mum and I would stick together until the end.

So, about two weeks ago, I pitched the idea to Glen who was completely supportive. I pitched it to a friend who also thought it was a good idea and then spoke to our pseudo financial advisor, who said it was a terrific idea.

I pitched the idea of mum selling her home (which she is already doing) and moving down here (which she is already doing) and moving in with us - so to speak. Not literally moving in with us, but the big picture plan is that she will sell her house in BFN, give us the money so that we can buy another place that has big enough land so that we can subdivide and build a townhouse at the back of the house. The townhouse would be mum’s home and we would live semi-separate lives. The benefits for us would be that we would rent out our current property and it would be negatively geared (a concept that I am yet to really get my head around) and that when mum might pass on, we would have the subdivided property that was sellable. We would sell both properties and move to a single house block again. However, we would have earned a nice portfolio of property etc and Mum would benefit from a lot more amenities, being close to us and vice versa and having access to all services, people and opportunities. My intentions were spurned from concern for mum and wanting to be closer to her, not increasing my property portfolio - in case you wondered.

I’ve lived with the fear of losing those I love. I lost a lot of family and friends as a child and I was particularly scarred from the loss of my grandmother and then of my only sister, so you can imagine that I have serious separation anxiety issues. Ask Glen. Maybe he’ll blog about it, who knows.

You know what her response was to this seemingly ‘to good to be true’ offer?

She got shitty and told me that wasn’t going to happen. She thanked me but was emphatic. I was hurt, but I let it drop.

Glen told me to let her think about it and let the topic go for a while. In the meantime, I spoke to my good friend Di, who suggested I write to mum and explain my case. Talk about the positives and the compelling evidence or wahtever. I agreed and had planned to do it. I knew Di was right because my mother can’t go one minute whilst I am pitching an idea without flapping her gums! So, that was the plan.

Skip ahead to tonight when she called and one of the first things she said was, “I’m starting to think you are right about moving there, so alright”. It was more or less a defeated resignation of her next move to a city. She hates cities, she compares Melbourne to Sydney and she hates Sydney. She grew up there and loathed it. But let’s face it, Melbourne is not Sydney and everyone loves Melbourne, don’t they?! hehe

Anyway, it’s a start and I’ll work on mum to realise that she isn’t giving in to the inevitability of moving into a city area. I know she’ll enjoy it and she will find that it’s more suburbia than a city and she will realise that it’s more interesting to her.

So, that’s my news and I have to say, it’s taken me a little while to realise she has said yes, but at the same time, it’s a bitter sweet occasion because she’s not entirely happy about it.

So, maybe I should still write that letter to her? Explain to her that having family nearby is important. Having your mother nearby when you have kids is important. Having your only parent and close relative nearby is good, right?

Right.

I need to pee.

Run Forest Run!

I took delivery of a u-beaut treadmill last week. Did I tell you?

It was purchased from what I thought, was a relatively reliable ebay seller in Australia. In fact, in Melbourne. I thought it would be a done deal once I finally won one of the sought-after suckers! I used my tax money, or part there of.  It seriously took over a month from when I won the item, to when the blasted thing arrived. I was unimpressed, and duly left neutral feedback, because I just couldn’t be bothered leaving negative feedback and dealing with the verbal exchange which would inevitably follow.

Anyway, I digress.

This ebay seller sells many treadmills at different speed levels, capacities and sizes. I, of course, picked the biggest, fastest and most gadgety one available. It told me I could run on it. It told me that it was rated for 200kg - well, well above my current lardness. And no, I am not sharing my current lardness in digit representation.

So, I walked on it last week. I walked and I hurt my legs.

Side note: I have Muscle Compartment Syndrome. It restricts blood flow to the muscles and it feels like my legs are burning. I’m talking serious burning, which then also affects my feet - my left foot went to sleep last week whilst I was walking. I pushed through the pins and needles and everytime I took a step, I looked like Steady Eddy with a gawky limp. Seriously, my left foot was shaking, girating and flapping everytime it wasn’t in use, so to speak.

I haven’t used my treadmill since that fateful night. Revelation, I know. Surprising, not really. I give up easily. I does that good.

Tonight, I went through my weights regime. I did sit ups. Shock horror! I hopped on the treadmill and before I could give it much thought, I pumped up the speed until I was forced to run, well a half arsed jog, at best. But it was running, nonetheless and as I was dying running, I felt good about myself. I felt proud. I decided to jog for one minute, walk for another, and so on and so forth. I did this for 10 minutes and I was suitably stuffed at the end of it.

I’m going to lose weight using the treadmill this way. I just know it. For, as I sit here, I feel my legs slowly dying and declared to Glen, not more than two minutes ago, that if he required me to get out of this chair, he would need to assist me, for I have become decrepid and incapacitated.

But I ran. (Yes, Flock of Seagulls, eat your heart out!) I ran!

When being female truly sucks…

This post isn’t for the fainted-hearted, or for men, so please bugger off if you don’t wish to be traumatised by feminine discussions.

Last week, whilst getting my blood pressure checked, I was subjected to the feminine pleasures of pap smears. I hate them and pleased that she did not mention it before she took my blood pressure.

So, I was subjected to the process which was pretty quick and painless. She asked for my mobile number to contact me if there were any issues, otherwise i could call today to get my results.

I didn’t need to call. She called me and left a message.

I had a feeling of dread as I began to listen to her message, remembering her saying that she’d call if there were issues. Her message said that I’d have to repeat the pap smear as there was too much inflammation and the cervical cells could not be detected.

Bah humbug. Phooey and shit.

I called her back. There was nothing to be concerned about, it was fairly common, but bugger it, I have to get another done in a couple of months. Fucken ace!

I “look forward” to these things every two years, but now I have to havce two in two years? No fair!!