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I went a month from before Easter until about a week ago with constant fever and inflammation. The arthritis meds just didn't seem to do the trick. I was able to do less and less and even thinking about moving my right arm, hurt like hell. Yesterday my doc gave me a cortisone shot. Holy mackerel!
The shot itself wasn't bad, I mean, the shoulder/arm hurt before, during and afterwards. Ways afterwards it was like a furnace was living inside it, but this morning I woke up and what do you know, I can actually move my arm. Magic!
She chewed me out for not seeing her earlier. That seems to be the basics of our relationship... I am being sick in all the wrong ways. I need to learn how to be sick the right way. I need to learn to be loud and articulate about the inflammations and the fever and not wait it out in silent misery.
It sounds stupid, I know, but that is an impossibly big ocean to cross for me. I am not quite sure why it is like this, although I am fully aware that it is some kind of built-in defense mechanism at large, but for some reason I pretend everything is fine, until I am so sick I'm barely conscious. This is stupid and I know this, but when I get really sick, this knowledge-that-I-know-so-well goes *poof* out the window. Like magic. The bad type of magic. I haven't quit smoking yet. I've used all the excuses out there and then some. Talk about bad magic. I need some amazeballmagic to work this one out. Hubby has decided to help motivate me. He now refers to me as a drug addict. Drug addicts have limited access to everything(I think this means everything fun). Not the amazeballmagic I dreamt of, but it's what I've got, so I'll have to just make it work...
The snow is gone and I've been on my first few hiking trips in the woods with Georg. This is good magic all around. I need to get back to our regular hiking trips with my friend Marianne and her English Cocker Spaniel; Noori.
I need to get my house and garden up to par. Now that I can move my arm again, I'm ready to get to work. I just have to remember taking babysteps. Therein lies my challenge. The list is a long one and it's gotten longer over the winter. It will take time. I have all the time I need. It's not a problem. My lack of patience is my problem. I have to learn to take on one item at a time, instead of five. I need some good magic to do this too.
Saw the dentist the other day. The new dentist is a young lady. Gorgeous looking and sweet. My former dentist was old, grey, serious as a grave and constantly referring to me as Mrs Jakobsen. The new one is all smiles and happiness and considerate about my issues with coffee and nicotine stains. Before I knew it I had made a deal about seeing her twice a year. Ridiculous, I know. I haven't had any cavities for years and years. The dentist is over-the-top expensive. I fear dentists like the plague. To the point where the dentist assistant needs to call me a week, or less, before my appointment, so that I don't have time to worry myself into a fullblown panic attack. Now I'm going through this twice a year? Just because of a gorgeous looking, sweet female smiled to me in such a nice way while telling me that seeing her an extra time a year would give me a prettier smile... Sneaky magic at work here. The word "sucker" echoes through my mind.In two weeks my friend Ellen and I are visiting Helene. We'll be sharing a double room. She's shared beds with me before and can handle all the weird stuff I do in my sleep. There will be a festival going on the weekend we're there. I'll be taking Helene shopping. There will be lunch with alcohol. It'll be fun. It'll be magic.
