Back on the Grid

This past week I was ill, as ill as I've been in quite some time. I thought my bout last year was bad, but whatever it is I caught, left last year's episode in the dust.

The week prior I had been to Scotland. Again! I was able to go with my parents and we stayed in a great apartment in Kelvingrove. It's a funny thing. I hadn't been to Scotland since 1994 and this year I got to go twice. If anything, it's convinced me that regular visits there need to be a part of my life from now on.

So I came back feeling really refreshed, despite jet lag that never entirely resolved itself and then WHAMMO! Congestive Armageddon.

So I've got some catching up to do in terms of my workouts. The nurse practitioner I saw said that I would be out of the contagious phase in three days, but essentially coughing for two weeks. I'm going to ease back into my routine as best I can and I've scheduled two restorative yoga classes to go to in between training days. I've missed my Thursday yoga since our office move and I need to start doing it again.

And for now, well that's about it. Not much to report. I suppose I just wanted to try and get back into a routine here too.

And Then There Were Three

I've been thinking a lot about writing here. Obviously I haven't and that's because frankly, the last while has been a bit of a shit storm in my life. Something in my brain buckled, and I couldn't put a keystroke to screen until now.

The last time I wrote here, I had come through a relentless summer and fall. Ragdoll had been deathly ill, I had found out my first boyfriend had died, my grandmother died and Shuggy our cat died.

In February, our cat Neko died. In March, my youngest Uncle on my mother's side passed away suddenly due to a pulmonary embolism. Two weeks ago our cat Chudleigh died.

I'm now left with our three little cats, Lolly, Jerry and Possil. And I say "I'm" because my relationship with the Marine is also coming to an end. Nothing I've ever said about him here has changed. I mention our parting because contextually, I want future blogs to make sense. I'll say no more about it.

Some things are just too precious for the internet.

This is the Golden Age? aka Zesty's Folly

I've been doing stupid shit lately.

Case in point, the week before my vacation I went and got a poster framed. It's from Elizabeth: The Golden Age and I spent $190.00 bucks getting it mounted and framed. Why? Well at the time, it had been sitting rolled up in my office and I really wanted something for the wall directly across from where I sit.

And I suppose I had some stupid law of attraction idea that if I had it in front of my line of sight long enough, if I could look at it and focus on it with the idea in my head that I too may be able to act full time one day, that framing this picture and making it look nice may actually help to make that happen, the way I think that staring at my credit card balance will somehow magically make it shrink.

But I suppose the other reason is that I didn't have to go into debt to do it because I've been saving for an Ipod and part of me just wanted to get something done because I wanted to get it done. Enough said. No weighing the constraints of what's affordable and what's not.

So now the poster hangs in my office. It's a little rough housed which is made more obvious when the light hits the poster surface which is on mounting. But this to me, is part of its charm. But it's also a symbol of folly, of not thinking clearly, of being reactionary. Oh yeah, and back to the drawing board on the Ipod.

And then I do stupid shit like today, when I go to the doctor and hear that absolutely nothing's wrong and everything came back normal and I'm so tired that I don't think to say "but you know when the nurse checked my file to make sure all my blood work was in there were two "abnormals" listed there."

I don't want to be sick, but I just don't understand how I can be as bone tired as I have been this past month but there is nothing wrong. My doctor said that my vitamin D test wasn't back yet and what I was describing was consistent with insufficiency. She also thought it was significant that my sleep quality had improved during the same time I'd lost five inches off my waist and she wants to follow up with me when I'd completed my second sleep test.

I guess I just expected to hear something definitive today given how I've been feeling and I was surprised that I didn't. My doctor was very understanding. She says she has several patients in my predicament with no definitive answers, but she's willing to keep working with me and trying other things as we go. So, the sleep test is up next. Really, it's all I can ask for and I appreciate it.

Having mulled this over the better part of this evening, I've decided to do the following:

I'm going to call my doctor back tomorrow and follow up on those two abnormal results for peace of mind.

I am not going to apologize for being tired anymore. I am not a hypochondriac and my symptoms are real. All I can do is manage them as best I can. The very least I can do, is trust myself.

I will continue my policy of at least one weekend a month where I have no appointments or obligations whatsoever.

I will exercise at least two times a week.

I am substantially cutting crap out of my diet - no more pop, chips, chocolate covered almonds etc. Not that I eat these in abundance, but I have been overdoing it a bit the last month on the chocolate almond front anyway, and I need to make more of an effort to eat healthfully.

I am going to see the nutritionist at my fitness club to get some guidance.

Well So Much For That

Well, the Marine woke me up at 830 this morning because my trainer was on the phone. She sounded terrible. I mean TERRIBLE. She said her lungs were burning and I told her to get her ass to a doctor toute de freakin' suite, that she probably needed antibiotics.

Because you know, I'm such doctor and all.

So strange. I walked out of my session on Monday completely banjaxed, watching in awe as my trainer was full out running on a treadmill. And then whammo. It's like she was never well. Seriously. I hope she doesn't have pneumonia or something like that. I was relieved to not have a session today because I'm still seriously dragging my butt. But I would have still gone in and done my session. Her being ill is a pretty lousy reason for it to be cancelled.

Well off for a hot bath before my doctor's appointment. Yes I know. Life is rough.

To Sleep, Perchance to Fuhreek Out

Well I'm off to the sleep disorder clinic tonight. I am so not looking forward to this it's not funny. It's like going to a hotel with none of the benefits. And people will be watching me. So weird.

Oh and I'll let you know how my scheduled naps go on Friday too. LOL!

Workout Song Obsession: Peg, Steely Dan
15 min mile pace: 3.2
Jar Opening Propensity: Gettin' there

U.P.S.? YOU SUCK

How's this for a business model? Imagine that if customers can't meet your expectations, they don't get their product. Yes, I shit you not.

Such was the encounter I had today. I came home for lunch for a much needed break in my day and upon checking the mail, discovered to my joy that U.P.S. had made an attempt to deliver my dehumidifier from Costco. I assumed U.P.S. has a similar model to other couriers in that you can make subsequent arrangements to get your package.

Instead, I called the number provided and a recording informed me that:

I could not pick the parcel up at a depot.
I could not arrange an alternate time when I would actually be home to have the package delivered.
That after three attempts the delivery would be abandoned.

I called U.P.S to confirm the above and unbelievably enough, it was actually true. Adding insult to injury was the fact that I wasn't even in their system when I called, so they told me someone else would call me back at my office number as I could have my dehumidifier delivered to an alternate address.

So let's just recap here....

U.P.S. is not going to let me pick an item up, saving them time, money and gas.

U.P.S. are going to continue to swing by my home address, at least two more times, even if I won't be home wasting time, money and gas.

U.P.S. can deliver to an alternate address [if on the route!] which means I still need to transfer an item to my home myself, that I've already paid to have shipped there directly.

Now having a personal item such as a dehumidifier delivered to my work was precisely what I didn't want to do because frankly, I just didn't think it was appropriate, as if mail room staff don't have enough to do.

But I called the mail room when I got back to the office.

"Hi there. I'm in a bit of a pickle and wondered if you could help me. I'm expecting a personal package via U.P.S. that I was originally having sent to my home -"

"Oh and let me guess. They can't do that can they? They can't actually make a delivery when you'll be there. Have 'em send it here."

Obviously I wasn't the first person who'd encountered this and my mail room at work couldn't have been more helpful.

What can Brown do for you? Sweet F*ck All apparently.

Red Pill or Blue Pill? Actually, It's Purple.

"Gimme, Gimme more." - Britney Spears

This morning saw me back at my doctor’s office with a simple request. Give me back my life.

After I was diagnosed with acid reflux I was given a 3 week supply of Nexium. This drug essentially turns off the miniscule acid pumps in your stomach, thus reducing the amount of acid in your stomach. This in turn reduces and eventually eliminates the acid that is refluxing back up your esophagus to wage its various depredations.

Within ten days of starting this drug I noticed some changes.

I didn’t wake up with a sore throat and swollen glands.
I didn’t have a hoarse voice all day.
I didn’t have congested and swollen sinuses. As a result, my sense of smell and taste were amplified considerably.
I didn’t have shooting and ongoing pains through my lower ribs and between my shoulder blades.
I didn’t incessantly crave sugar, salt and caffeine.
I slept right through the night and arose feeling like I’d actually slept, which meant I could do things like work out and write in my journal and make dinner without feeling like the effort was Herculean.

Why the above list? Because until all of these symptoms started going away, I wasn’t really aware of how omnipresent they were. These symptoms compose the general state of crapdom that has been my health for well over a decade, or as we Glaswegians say “feelin’ like a half shut knife.” It’s amazing how your body gets used to things, how your physicality takes on a compensatory mode when its only continually poked here and shoved there, never having to contend with backalley shit kickings the likes of which Ragdoll and my Mum have experienced.

So after years of massages and rolfing, body work inside and out, tons of supplements, homeopathics and flower remedies, energetic therapies, wheat free, sugar free, milk free, nothing-good-to-eat-ever-free diets, and the thousands spent on all the aforementioned, 10 days of taking “the little purple pill” as it has become known wrought more positive change than 10 months of any of the above. I felt normal.

I felt good.

So needless to say, when I finished the initial three week course and only two weeks after finishing crapdom beckoned once again, I decided “Aw hell nah.” I now have a two month supply from my doctor with an agreement to check in with her regularly for renewals.

Suddenly a lot seems possible again. We’ll see.

R.I.P. Little Shauna

Well today ended up being a bit sad. One of the kitties I had at the orphanage had to be put down tonight because his kidneys had essentially begun failing. He was really far gone. Poor little guy. I went to the vet after work to see him to the next place and it was very peaceful.

I'm just thankful that the Marine and I were able to make his last days somewhat bearable. I can't imagine him in that state, starving and on his own.

Some people truly have no heart.

Just Like Brian Wilson Did

I've basically been in bed since Saturday afternoon.

The weekend started off with glorious weather and although a little tired, the Marine and I went to The Victory Cafe for brunch. We wanted to go somewhere we hadn't tried before and it didn't disappoint.

Saturday was also Yard Sale Heaven, so of course the Marine was in his element. We stopped at a couple and the Marine scored a beautiful singer sewing machine for 15 dollars. It's perfect for him because he likes to get work pants second hand because they're basically trashed within two weeks, but he always needs to shorten them or let them out or whatever.

Or as the Marine would put it: "Sewing machine. Lose 2 hetero points."

So we got back, and by about 2 pm, I could not, I mean COULD NOT keep my eyes open. I went to bed and have basically been there ever since, rising only for "the essentials", the odd bit of telly and emailing my work to let them know I won't be in. It's only been today that I've felt somewhat human again.

The only thing I can put it down to is my sinusitis, because the trees are blooming and the air is full of crap. Granted it's all natural, cycle of life, pollenascious stuff, but as far as my nostrils are concerned, it's crap. The front of my face feels like it's been roto rootered.

And I'm exhausted. Now I know why last week I felt so draggy. But I feel as if my sinus spidey sense was off. I should have seen this coming but I didn't. I should have realized that with my mum in hospital and my work schedule being what they are that something was up when my appetite started to plummet. But I put it down to coming out of the winter blues, being busy of late, needing a break whatever, not my sinuses.

Maybe it's all of that.

I just don't do "sick" well. I don't mean to imply that everybody else loves it, but by default I end up infusing it with more meaning than it has. I need to actively work to remind myself that I will get well again and not be so down about the fact that I'm not 100% cause even when I'm 100% it's not 100% if you know what I'm talking about. [I know Ragdoll and Hassan do] I just get this sinking feeling that I am losing even more time than I already have.

I wonder sometimes when I'll have more energy for something other than my job. There it is. I said it.

I mean I love my job and I love the people I work with, but damn, this livin' weekend to weekend shit has got to go. There is so much more I want to do and be.

So I'm retrenching, and starting to look at my diet first and get that cleaned up. Then I'm going to exercise more.

Well that's the plan now that I've finally emerged from bed. Baby steps y'all. Baby steps.

Curve Ball

"On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star, like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are, how fragile we are" - Sting

I just wanted to let you all know that last Friday, my mother was diagnosed with a very serious illness and she'll be in hospital over the next few weeks.

I don't plan on talking a lot about it here, but many of you that read this blog are my friends, either directly or via the blogosphere and I thought you should know. Obviously that's why I haven't been around here too much lately.

I plan to get back in the saddle soon.

So does my Mum.

Don't Quit Your Day Job Buddy

I really can't think of what to say other than an emphatic warning to view this in a "safe" place and definitely listen with.the.headphones.on.

The Gaping Maw, aka Zesty Yawns

"Do you know why they call it PMS? Because 'Mad Cow Disease' was already taken." - Anonymous

I was not at my best today.

I was very tired this morning after a very full day previously. Go to appointment, go home. Go to vet for cat’s check up. Go home. Go to next appointment. Go home. Go to church for communications meeting.

Go home.

Lord knows I wanted to stay there this morning, but no, I went in. I cut off a lady on the Gardiner. At least I think I did. I definitely cut her off later on and her horn sounded the same as the Gardiner one. Can’t say I cared much. Looking at her in my rearview she seemed more concerned about lashing on mulitple layers of mascara.

I also had an undue amount of elevator impatience today. I walked into my building’s elevator lobby. A woman wasn’t paying attention and when I got on and pressed the button for my floor, I let the doors close just as she realized it was there.

Yes I did that. Twice.

I can only surmise that sometimes, tiredness really REALLY doesn’t agree with me and brings out my baser nature. As a remedy of sorts, I went to my naturopath’s office and got a vitamin shot today. It’s called a Myer’s Cocktail. I have to say it really wasn’t that bad, in fact it was tres relaxant as the magnesium hit my bloodstream. I’m going to be getting them every week for the next month.

The technician said I’d sleep like a baby tonight. For the sake of Toronto commuters, let’s hope so.

I Get Knocked Down, But I Get Up Again - Eventually

Well I've spent the better part of the weekend in bed and won't be at work tomorrow. I'm still trying to get on top of this sinus infection so I'll post when I'm feeling better.

You Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore

Last week, when I was feeling far worse than I am now, the Marine picked me up a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses. He's always doing nice things like this, and needless to say, it cheered me up no end.

Needing a vase, I went downstairs to our basement [or as I like to call it "Mordor-lite"] and came across one of my favourites. During my late teens, I was somewhat antiques obsessed, and I found this yellow vase with a simplistic pink and green motif drawn on it. [I also nurtured an obsession for the colour combination of pink and green, which I have fortunately outgrown.] The dealer who sold it to me mentioned that the vase was probably Italian, and circa 1930ish. It's an acquired taste to be sure, but I have great memories attached to this vase.

I was so chuffed at coming across it that I had one of those lovely "I haven't seen this in ages" moments, when all the original joy of an object comes rushing back to you. So I decided to use it for the roses.

Saturday arrived and still recovering from the week that was, I slept in until approximately 12:30 p.m. and arrived downstairs to see that the roses were not on top of the CD stand. The worse had happened. One of my feline charges decided a visit to the salad bar was in order and the result was this:



[You will notice Dear Reader, that I have exercised some artistic license with the inclusion of a rose. I feel that this most adequately imparts the pathos of the moment.]

It's certainly a more elegant depiction than what really happened, which essentially consisted of my having a miniature nervous breakdown. After such a brutal week, this was truly the cherry on the bullsh*t sundae.

Here is the suspected culprit, although I have no definitive evidence other than Neko's incessant need to eat grass.



Determined to find a ceramic restorer, I decided not to dwell on the matter. I cut the roses down and placed them in a glass.

This morning I came down and found this:



and this:



As these pictures clearly demonstrate [aside from the the fact that even when clean our floors look like total ass] Neko's debauchery knows no bounds.

Although she has excellent taste in flowers. I'll give her that.

The Assness Continues....

I awoke this morning with cramps.

Quelle joie.

I just couldn't take anymore. There was abso-fa-lutely NO WAY I could go into the office. Between that and the pounding in my head, I just said "enough". I dispatched some emails and promptly went back to sleep for another 4 hours. I felt somewhat human when I tumbled out of bed by early afternoon.

I think tomorrow I'll be a lot better. Lord how I prayed last night. Please. Please don't let my cramps be too bad. I don't think I've prayed harder for anything in the last six months. Sad isn't it?

But it worked. Well worked in the sense that I was not-doubled-over-on-the-verge-of- vomiting, taking 3 hot baths to try and get the pain under control. Having reviewed my emails from the day, I'm really glad I didn't go in because the only words I would have wanted coming out of anybody's mouth were "Here's your drink. " Talk about an attitude problem.

Magic, In A Weekend Like Ass

This weekend was a bit of a loss. It has a resigned feeling to it, kind of like a balloon slowly losing air.

I've been on antibiotics since Monday for my sinus infection. My head still feels like it's going to explode. Slowly but surely the discomfort is travelling down my face so I know I'm getting better, but I really, and I mean REALLY expected to feel a lot better by now. Instead my progress has been marginal to say the least.

I have a number of elements working against me at the moment. Workload continues unabated. I'm just trying to keep going at this point and I don't have much energy for anything else.

Those of us in the Greater Toronto Area are now in, oh I dunno help me out here Ragdoll, about our 156th straight day of cloud cover. Honestly, now I know why some people hate Vancouver. Apparently their whole winter is like this. I'm at the point where I'd take a -10 temperature if it means getting some farkin sunshine. I'm that demented by it. You'd think my Celtic genetic inheritance would shore me up against this sort of thing, but no such luck.

And basically I just need a vacation. I have two weeks coming up at Christmas. Needless to say, it can't come soon enough. Many of us are in the same boat at this time of year.

Despite everything I am really proud of my ability to keep going. I think one of the best lessons I've gotten out of this year is not to be so hard on myself. Sure I could be doing better. The house could be cleaner. I could be doing more things at work more thoroughly. My Christmas cards could be sent by now. But in the end, I have kept going, haven't lost any extreme amount of time to illness and at the end of the day, things are getting done. Sometimes, it's ok to just do what you can.

I still couldn't help but be a little dispondent yesterday though. I woke up at 6 a.m. and stayed up. I had that too tired to sleep feeling and didn't want to go back to bed. I mulled over the idea of pilates but in the end my pounding head declared "oh hell no" and I cancelled. I got a little more sleep, and then decided to go out for some groceries to try and blow the cobwebs away. It was worth it for my budgetary triumph alone [see below Dear Reader], but I felt as if I was walking through gauze. The grey clouds were pushing down on my head like an ill fitting touque.

I hate this, I thought. I hate slaving my guts out all week, only to have the highlight of my weekend be a trip to the grocery store. And with the lack of sleep kicking in, I lose even more perspective, hating the fact that deciding what to have for dinner is quickly becoming an impossible decision, that I'm not hungry and haven't been for days, that I feel as if I've failed myself in so many key respects, that I'm mad at myself for thinking all this and being so negative before I've even made it as far as the Jams and Condiments aisle. I think that I'm just being ridiculous and I shouldn't be letting my fatigue rob me of so much perspective.

Ok. Here's where it gets weird. As mentioned, before the grocery store was my budgetary triumph. I truly felt like something or somebody sent me there, maybe because I was feeling down and just needed a little break to come my way. In addition, I'm still missing my Granny terribly, thinking of her a lot and having memories of her pop into my head at the most unusual times. I miss her, and I feel lonely in that particularly childlike way you do when you have lost a grandparent. I feel her, but I can't see, be with or talk to her.

And then in the middle of Loblaws, where I haven't been really paying attention to the soundtrack because it's been all I can do to decide between ravioli or lasagna for dinner, "Magic" by Olivia Newton John comes on.

Ok. I know we're in major fromage territory here, but stay with me.

My most vivid memories of my Granny are from my pre-teens, when she and my Granda would come over in the summers and look after us. At that time, Olivia Newton John had just released a Greatest Hits collection, and I played that tape until it was worn out, revelling in all its girly-girl glory.

I loved "Magic". It was my favourite song on the whole record. The opening lyrics are:

Come take my hand,
You should know me
I've always been in your mind,
You know I will be kind, I'll be guiding you.

Living your dream has to start now
There's no other road to take
You won't make a mistake
I'll be guiding you.

I don't know what's going on, but out of pure curiosity I've made an appointment with the clairvoyant that Ragdoll went to see. I'd like to think my Granny's trying to get my attention, that's somehow, in some way she is still alive and accessible to me, but realistically I'm buttressing myself for disappointment and expecting it to be a bust.

In the meantime, I am seriously mulling the possiblity of a couple of gin and tonics.

can't blog. have arthritis

in my left wrist so i'llbe back as soon as i can.

wuv,
zesty