Slight

Yesterday was about running, and although it drained me, I find that my feet were not hurting too badly, and I was not in as much emotional debt. Dylan works both days this weekend, and this may be good for my need to be alone a while. He is the guardian of my solitude, does not interfere with my aloneness, and I still sometimes need the house all to myself for hours. He understands.

Moby is on the sofa on the heating pad. After a bit of prestidigitation, I got the right food in the right cat this morning. Medicated for Moby, kibble for Eleanor with a smear of butter, because the catsoup ran out with the last portion to Moby. He got a few of her kibble, which won't hurt in small amounts. Making more now, but it won't be ready until noon. He jumped up on the sofa and mrrk'd at me, so I turned on the heating pad, swirled a blanket around it. He crept down, a few minutes later clambered back up. The ways of cats are mysterious.


I've not been ill this winter. This is unusual. I always get a head cold, flu, sinus infection, something. This is great. It's also why I'm feeling the emotional breakdown, which gets drowned by snot most years. The excuse to hide and pamper and stay home absent. I'd rather just deal with the anxiety without the physical symptoms. I do have to remember to deal.

As a kid, the only time mom really made much effective effort to shield me from my father was when I was sick. I never faked illness, but the stress manifested as sickness, and invited in more. A coping mechanism, not intentional, and a terrible habit to carry into adulthood. I've never had any serious physical illness, at least none that didn't have a strong emotional component. The only real injury was the herniated discs. I've cracked a few minor bones, torn or sprained a few ligaments, nothing requiring more than taping and time. Chronic and irritating, like the migraines. Everything else closely tied to my reactions to stress, planted in me as a child. Even knowing that, changing it is a bugger. This year seems to be the first, and I wonder if it's not related to menopause.

Two of our scrubs, carpooling, were in a crash of sorts. A large bent piece of metal kicked up into their windshield on the freeway. One has a gash on her cheek and broken facial bones, non-operative. The other a mild concussion and a shoulder bruise. The windshield completely crazed and caved in, with a hole through the center. They've been off since this happened on Wednesday as they were on their way home. One of our surgeons asked if he could reach out to them, getting permission from them for their phone numbers first. He's a gruff old bird, but he knows what it is to be injured. We will work around their absence.

I wish she with the concussion could stay home in a dark room for a few weeks, offline and quiet, to let her brain rest. The other on "sinus precautions" sounds dreadful.

DO NOT blow your nose.
DO NOT forcibly spit.
Sneeze with your MOUTH OPEN. If the urge to sneeze arises, do not sneeze through your nose and avoid pinching nostrils.

Good thing I've been virus free, everyone else at work is sick or injured. Oh, I also swallowed my temporary cap. Not an emergency, can't be the first time this has happened to anyone. This too shall pass. The permanent one goes on Wednesday. It doesn't hurt, although there is a sensation in the back of my throat. Perhaps it scratched there a little.


Taking this morning to be silent and still.