This cold just refuses to go away.
Night fever (well, fever when I sleep, even in daytime naps), coughing and dizziness have got very annoying as they go on and on.
I managed to go to the supermarket yesterday. The first time I had been out under my own power in nine days (and only the second time leaving the house at all in that time).
It seemed to be going okay until the walk home where the dizziness got worse and worse and turned to faintness and nausea, and then vomiting.
Such fucking fun.
So sick of everything.
Friday, 28 June 2019
Friday, 21 June 2019
Wetting my bed, through my face
I guess I should have been tipped on by how little I ate yesterday and that it wasn't bothering me.
Last night, exhausted from a day of not doing anything much apart from listening to an audiobook (The Name of the Wind, again), I had an early night. I woke at 3am needing to pee and discovering my pillow was inexplicably soaked through. By morning the entire area around my head and shoulders had soaked through. All the pillows, the stink duvet, the bedding. Everything soaked.
I had had my fever on.
It appears I have been actually sick after all.
As further confirmed when I checked my before breakfast blood glucose levels. In spite of eating little (by my standards) the last few days, I had the highest fasting level I have ever recorded. Another sign of being sickly as.
Annoyingly I have no real symptoms that stand out above my usual. Being chronically ill masks things too well, so it can be pretty hard to notice when I catch whatever is going around.
My body is frustrating to deal with.
Last night, exhausted from a day of not doing anything much apart from listening to an audiobook (The Name of the Wind, again), I had an early night. I woke at 3am needing to pee and discovering my pillow was inexplicably soaked through. By morning the entire area around my head and shoulders had soaked through. All the pillows, the stink duvet, the bedding. Everything soaked.
I had had my fever on.
It appears I have been actually sick after all.
As further confirmed when I checked my before breakfast blood glucose levels. In spite of eating little (by my standards) the last few days, I had the highest fasting level I have ever recorded. Another sign of being sickly as.
Annoyingly I have no real symptoms that stand out above my usual. Being chronically ill masks things too well, so it can be pretty hard to notice when I catch whatever is going around.
My body is frustrating to deal with.
Thursday, 20 June 2019
Old candles
I have lit my Lux Perpetua candle that I have had sitting on my kitchen shelf for about 10 years.
It does not want to burn.
It has both discoloured to the point the Jesus has vanished from the label and become somehow unmelting - weird considering how misshapen from sunlight melting it is.
In other news, I have basically not left the house in a week. So much being too faint to do everything. Mostly it wasn't too awful, though I did have one near miss when i only just managed to faint into a wall, after it had very nearly been fainting into my Disney castle.
Friday last week, the day after my seizure and poop-disaster, I set fire to steaming vegetables - because I keep zoning out. After which I have accepted that I'm not really in a being able to cook place. So my diet then shifted to microwave meals and then things that the airfryer can do without my needing to pay any attention at all.
I spent most of the weekend under a blanket, feeling too crap to even watch TV.
Monday I had people turn up at my door, getting me out of a fever bed, to quiz me about my building. The next day I discovered I had been quoted saying a bunch of stuff I don't remember in the Otago Daily Times.
I got a bit worried the fever meant I had germs, but based on the sudden attack of visible lupus symptoms my fever was my immune system busily attacking me. So much butterfly rash and then skin sloughing off.
It was Tuesday before I put on actual clothes or stepped outside my door. I grabbed some food with the help of my dad's car. Then, in the afternoon, spurred on by feeling much less sick than I had been, I walked in to town for my regular weekly-ish plans with the Semi-Imaginary One. By the time I got there I was starting to regret my hubris. So I spent the afternoon inflicting a bunch of low level PDA on him to hide the fact I was using him to keep myself upright.
We are in a weird place with regard to my illness. He seems to genuinely think I am hamming it up and making it seem worse than it is out of laziness, or maybe drama-hunting. The last time I tried to actually have a serious conversation with him about it, he ended up suggesting that I could fix it all if I just practised positive thinking, and not being sick.
I understand how it happened. At the start I didn't bring it up in any detail because I didn't want to scare him off. And then he seems more of me when I am doing well. So he doesn't seem to realise that what he thinks of as normal me is actually things going as well for me as they are able to.
And I don't try that hard to correct him, because I still think I will scare him away.
Because, fundamentally, I understand that I am too broken to be worthy of affection.
Doing stuff on Tuesday meant that I had to spent the entirety of Wednesday hiding under a blanket. Only now on Thursday evening to I finally feel okay with sitting upright - enough to fill in this beast. And to watch some TV.
Still, I think I might go back to my blanket, the nausea at being upright is kicking in again.
PS. A week of extra time in bed has massively increased the amount that my flat smells like sheep.
Am deeply regretting using the warm duvet now. Colder but less stinky is seeming much preferable - even though I know warmer is probably needful for my health.
It does not want to burn.
It has both discoloured to the point the Jesus has vanished from the label and become somehow unmelting - weird considering how misshapen from sunlight melting it is.
In other news, I have basically not left the house in a week. So much being too faint to do everything. Mostly it wasn't too awful, though I did have one near miss when i only just managed to faint into a wall, after it had very nearly been fainting into my Disney castle.
Friday last week, the day after my seizure and poop-disaster, I set fire to steaming vegetables - because I keep zoning out. After which I have accepted that I'm not really in a being able to cook place. So my diet then shifted to microwave meals and then things that the airfryer can do without my needing to pay any attention at all.
I spent most of the weekend under a blanket, feeling too crap to even watch TV.
Monday I had people turn up at my door, getting me out of a fever bed, to quiz me about my building. The next day I discovered I had been quoted saying a bunch of stuff I don't remember in the Otago Daily Times.
I got a bit worried the fever meant I had germs, but based on the sudden attack of visible lupus symptoms my fever was my immune system busily attacking me. So much butterfly rash and then skin sloughing off.
It was Tuesday before I put on actual clothes or stepped outside my door. I grabbed some food with the help of my dad's car. Then, in the afternoon, spurred on by feeling much less sick than I had been, I walked in to town for my regular weekly-ish plans with the Semi-Imaginary One. By the time I got there I was starting to regret my hubris. So I spent the afternoon inflicting a bunch of low level PDA on him to hide the fact I was using him to keep myself upright.
We are in a weird place with regard to my illness. He seems to genuinely think I am hamming it up and making it seem worse than it is out of laziness, or maybe drama-hunting. The last time I tried to actually have a serious conversation with him about it, he ended up suggesting that I could fix it all if I just practised positive thinking, and not being sick.
I understand how it happened. At the start I didn't bring it up in any detail because I didn't want to scare him off. And then he seems more of me when I am doing well. So he doesn't seem to realise that what he thinks of as normal me is actually things going as well for me as they are able to.
And I don't try that hard to correct him, because I still think I will scare him away.
Because, fundamentally, I understand that I am too broken to be worthy of affection.
Doing stuff on Tuesday meant that I had to spent the entirety of Wednesday hiding under a blanket. Only now on Thursday evening to I finally feel okay with sitting upright - enough to fill in this beast. And to watch some TV.
Still, I think I might go back to my blanket, the nausea at being upright is kicking in again.
PS. A week of extra time in bed has massively increased the amount that my flat smells like sheep.
Am deeply regretting using the warm duvet now. Colder but less stinky is seeming much preferable - even though I know warmer is probably needful for my health.
Thursday, 13 June 2019
Every silver lining belongs to a cloud
Yesterday I took the stack of built up Christmas and birthday money from my drawer, and as a reward for sorting my paperwork for uni, I bought myself the Nintendo Switch I have been intending to buy since 2017.
[Trigger warning - grossness bordering on body horror]
Today my play was to sit in my PJs and play, but my body decided to be a dork.
Had my first full on proper seizure in a while - my meds mostly stop them but this one got through. And my body decided that while I was unconscious and convulsing was the perfect time to poop.
And because I am also on metformin things are soft, not quite liquid but liquid adjacent.
So emergency showering and scrubbing of things and laundry and filled up the time since. Because my body just loves to fuck me over.
I am just glad I had put my Switch down at the time. Breaking it after less than a day would have sucked, it is bad enough that I screwed the bottom right corner on my screen protector for it (I can't put screen protectors on things, I always get it wrong - this time trying to get a giant air bubble out of the middle I stuff the corner).
[Trigger warning - grossness bordering on body horror]
Today my play was to sit in my PJs and play, but my body decided to be a dork.
Had my first full on proper seizure in a while - my meds mostly stop them but this one got through. And my body decided that while I was unconscious and convulsing was the perfect time to poop.
And because I am also on metformin things are soft, not quite liquid but liquid adjacent.
So emergency showering and scrubbing of things and laundry and filled up the time since. Because my body just loves to fuck me over.
I am just glad I had put my Switch down at the time. Breaking it after less than a day would have sucked, it is bad enough that I screwed the bottom right corner on my screen protector for it (I can't put screen protectors on things, I always get it wrong - this time trying to get a giant air bubble out of the middle I stuff the corner).
Saturday, 8 June 2019
Head
My neurological symptoms have been worse than usual.
Going into them would just be depressing, but long story short my neurological issues quickly aggravate my psychological ones.
As such I have spent much of today finding myself thinking, every time that I see my wrists, that the world would be better off for everyone if I just slashed them open.
It may say something about my neurological symptoms that the previous sentence is not too depressing to talk about but they are.
My brain is not my friend.
Going into them would just be depressing, but long story short my neurological issues quickly aggravate my psychological ones.
As such I have spent much of today finding myself thinking, every time that I see my wrists, that the world would be better off for everyone if I just slashed them open.
It may say something about my neurological symptoms that the previous sentence is not too depressing to talk about but they are.
My brain is not my friend.
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