Ruby Tomorrow

morning

2012-01-28T07:21:00.000-05:00

I'm working rather hard at living these days. I hope it pays off in the end. I wonder if I have a caribbean fungus.
I'm up early on a Saturday to make S breakfast (see), because this week he worked three 14 hour+ shifts, and then we have a day trip to Richmond (see). The other day I went to an orchestra rehearsal and my upper register sounded fierce. I have not burst into tears, well, except for when I accidentally slammed the car door into my shoulder, in at least a week. I am pretty sure this does not mean I'm getting physically better, but oh ho, I am getting psychologically better. Someone needs to wave a wand over me and combine the two. As I sit here at the early morning kitchen table, blinking vainly against the liftoff of my head. Woops, there it goes.

retro

2012-01-25T08:53:00.001-05:00

I've gone April-retro. I'm listening to music (currently, track six of Yo-Yo Ma's Goat Rodeo Sessions, on repeat) and I'm reading books (as many of the e-books available at the public library that I can squeeze into a two week due date) and I'm dreaming about people I haven't even thought of in years (...). Also, though this is in no way relevant to retroversion, last night I saw a butterscotch cat shinnying up a telephone pole and then later I lit a fire in a fireplace, and this morning a lamppost told me I was beautiful.

for real?

2012-01-23T09:45:00.002-05:00

I am feeling at about 80% today (crisis averted), and I'm definitely enjoying the sensation of clearheadedness, which is quite a relief--for a time there I was worried that I was maybe in the throes of some sort of Munchausen Syndrome, wanting to be sick. But that's nuts. Of course I want to be well. I want to be jumping and bouncing around and walking, three point five miles at a time, twice a day, for luck.

thoroughness is dull

2012-01-21T09:05:00.000-05:00

I crochet, and I do it wrong, on purpose. I do it wrong for the same reason 14 year old me always refused to switch fingers when playing a single repeated note quickly on the piano, like my (long-suffering) teacher insisted. She was right, I was wrong, and I knew it. But I have a stubborn/lazy streak that makes it impossible for me to accept established wisdom, if I can do it my own way and still get by. This is something I am very, very good at: still getting by. I am not good at following directions, or toeing the line. It has a lot to do with ego and a lot to do with, uh, what's a flattering way to say laziness? I just hate doing things the long way, no matter what. Thoroughness is dull. It means that as soon as I understood the basic concepts of my daily responsibilities at work, I stopped doing them the way I was taught. Shortening steps, starting in the middle, combining three things into one. The bits I lose in details (I tell myself) I more than make up for in speed and innovation. ...I tell myself. So that's why, when I crochet--which is all the time, these days, because I need to feel like I'm still creating and contributing, even when my ass is permanently on the couch--I do NOT do it the way my mom taught me, or the way the books recommend. I hold the hook loosely and rock it back and forth against the wrong finger til a blister forms, then a callus. I am sloppy this way; the tension on my yarn isn't steady. But I am fast. It is my own way of doing things. It's wrong, it's kind of downright destructive, to my hands, anyway, but it's fast. It's personal.

drunk at work

2012-01-19T09:39:00.002-05:00

I am full of theories. I am also full of poor eating (I have obliterated -and then some- the early illness ten pound weight loss), poor sleeping, and partially digested chunks of my own fingernails. BUT, for the moment, my dizziness and ickiness is manageable. By manageable, I mean, I can talk about it without it getting instantly worse or having an anxiety attack. I've been feeling like I'm kind of drunk, all the time, and today it's easier for me to just accept that sensation and pretend I actually am. The idea of drunk feels so much better than sick. It's not that bad. I bet it's not even something serious. Someone probably just needs to poke my inner ear or tell me which vitamin to take.

on the outside I just look pale

2012-01-17T14:04:00.001-05:00

I am dizzy and flattened. Harder and Harder to keep my thoughts straight because everything is a whirl. I am trying hard to make myself live, anyway. Rejoice, anyway, in open eyes and warm winter coats, and in strong arms around my shoulders. But I'm failing. I am three months into some sort of imbalance in my bones or in my blood or in my brain, and my strength is useless/not enough. Sometimes I wonder if my head will ever be on my neck right again, and if these waterfalls running under my skin will ever dry up. I am totally bare to panic. Movie theaters, crowded restaurants, my office chair, hell, even my own living room. One moment it's the one moment too far. It is so easy to lose control and feel my chest fill up. I have no shields. My body is doing this. I am so angry I slap at my leg until my muscles give out and then I cry until the wall of snot and fear breaks. I am not ok with this being real life; I set deadlines. Next Monday, I'll call for help again.

five minutes

2012-01-13T10:46:00.002-05:00

the color green
a vivid dream about playing a ceramic oboe in front of a stadium
yogurt
contacts that need to be replaced
batteries that need to be charged
wanting oatmeal
wanting butter
cold nose
office ridicule (doling it out and taking it)
(despite feeling gross, I can fight)
... coping.
not wanting grad school
uppity
patrons from outer space
wind in the windows
whine in the--
I wish the bathroom weren't on the other side of the floor
can't wait for my couch later
and maybe a hot bath

avalanche

2012-01-12T09:12:00.002-05:00

I APPARENTLY do have a powerful ability to jinx myself. Yesterday my doctor called with more test results (they scanned my guts and my guts look fine), and she asked if I was feeling any better. I said I was! Because I was! I said I felt like I was nearly normal! But the saying of that, to a medical professional no less, has evidently set into motion a big boulder of a jinx rolling down a hill and BOOM yesterday evening the boulder hit me and again all I can think about is how weird my head feels and how shaky the ground just got and how much I really want to lie down. Five good days in a row, though, I will take. And will attempt to weather this newest mini setback with grace instead of whining and tears. And unclenching rather than winding up in a tight little ball again. I've gotta just keep going. Onward.

reference

2012-01-10T12:13:00.001-05:00

It always amazes me how good these students are at identifying me as someone-who-knows-where-X-book-is. Even when I'm wearing jeans, walking across the library empty handed, not even wearing my librarianly glasses. Three times yesterday and once this morning, 'I'm lost, can you help, please?' I help them (of course I do know), and then later I look in the mirror and I think, whatever my appearance does say, I don't think it is screaming 'librarian!' Maybe the clump of gray hair on the right side of my scalp is betraying me.

bananas

2012-01-09T12:37:00.001-05:00

I eat bananas really really slowly. You could probably eat three in the space I eat one. I wish this were something I could be proud of. Look at me: I can't manage more than baby bites! It's just bananas, though. I will demolish an apple in no time flat. I could challenge you to an apple off and I'd win.

I am thinking about fruit and bounding around randomly again and it's because... I feel good. Three days in a row now.

present tense

2012-01-04T10:19:00.001-05:00

If someone could tap me on the shoulder every ten minutes and gently remind me to stop tensing, oh, every muscle in my body, that'd be great. Even my forehead hurts from being so tightly knit. I have definitely been learning a whole lot about vicious circles. Tense 'cause you don't feel well, you don't feel well 'cause you're tense.

mind blows

2012-01-03T10:02:00.001-05:00

I don't know what to do. I just don't. I think it'd be best if I just totally leave off describing how I'm feeling. Don't want to talk about it. Please don't ask me how I'm feeling, because then I stop and take stock and notice how I'm feeling. NO I'm still not better, NO I don't know why, YES I've been back to the doctor for the umpteenth time, YES there are more tests in my future. YES, this definitely has a physical cause; this isn't something my mind has created out of thin air. NO, it's probably not something serious but is seriously holding me back and NO, I'm not handling this well. Today marks ten weeks since I first got sick. I am furious. See? Only writing that much makes me feel worse. I just need complete and total distraction at all times, because being mindful just makes me cry. So distraction it is. S gave me a Kindle for Christmas and this has been a godsend. I can't remember the last time I was reading a book a day. Makes me feel better about being couch-bound on the days I feel like if I were standing and moving my head would detach from my body and shatter into a million pieces.

Christmas came and left. It was lovely, on the whole, but I think I've forgotten any of the details in it already, because I didn't put any of it into words, and because I was hidden behind a veil of foggy headedness the whole time. New Year's Eve rolled around and I was not at all who I wanted to be or where I had wanted to be--not to mention I think I pushed myself too hard, and instead of going home and to bed at 9:30 when I was hit with a wave of dizziness and fatigue, I stayed on at the party downtown through S's band's third set and on through midnight. I can't really regret that, though, even though I think I dealt my body a setback that I'm still paying for. I can't really regret that, because S was incredible that night, and the music was rich, and when the new year rolled around I was bundled up out on the square with S's arms around me and his hat on my head and we watched hundreds of pearly white balloons being released into the night sky and then kissed under the fireworks when 2012 arrived. It was beautiful. Has to be worth it, hasn't it? I cannot keep attributing the quality of my last few days on one late pushing-self night. I just need to... I don't know. I don't know what to do.

I'm not sure this ever gets better. I really kind of just want to quit. And see, this is why I haven't written.

I feel like I should end on a less Eeyore note. So, Hunger Games. Have you read them? Thanks to the Kindle I'm halfway through the last book. Crazy, right? Mind blows?

finding footing

2011-12-23T07:55:00.002-05:00

Yesterday was a test because I was with people the whole time. Today is a test because I am not.

and nature sing

2011-12-21T22:46:00.000-05:00

It's probably a good omen that I've had joy to the world running through my head on a loop for the past six hours.

emptying out

2011-12-21T10:14:00.000-05:00

I've been debating what to put into words. Sometimes I've wanted to write that I feel so much better and much stronger! And sometimes I've wanted to write that I feel like I'm the worst I've ever been, that I'm at my wit's end, that there's either something very, very wrong with my body or else my mind. I'm beginning to think that the bulk of my persistent symptoms could be caused by depression. Because why else? I don't know. I wish I did. I have been in the very darkest corners of my head and heart the past two months and I'm pretty sure I'm not out of the woods yet. I am uncomfortably vulnerable to both my continuing physical weaknesses and my psychological ones. I think I'm going to need some serious help and some serious time to sort through all that has been happening to and within me. I keep finding myself sobbing on the floor, just wanting to get away from myself. And you can't, you never can. The good news is that S is ALWAYS there for me, always patient and gentle and persistent even when I'm snapping wildly. And the good news is that today's the last day of work til the new year, and I do hope that the easing pressure of full days at work will help to ease some of the pressure on the rest of me. And more good news: I am feeling stronger physically. That's not even false optimism. And. I know that if I do indeed need serious intervention and serious time to heal and recover, I can have that. I have two families and an incredible husband who will help me get the help I need and won't leave me floundering. I may need a whole winter to regain my footing. I've got to be willing to give that up.

slugging

2011-12-15T10:30:00.000-05:00

I think I'm just going to have to embrace the slug. Apparently my body still needs time to rest, and fighting the resting is not helpful. I HAVE been resting and staying low-key, but I've been resenting myself the whole while, feeling guilty for being selfish and letting things slide around the apartment, with friends, and at work, and I've been feeling pitifully sorry for myself and especially for S, who is missing a healthy wife. I think I just need to stop doing the resentful rest thing and just switch over to rest rest. I CLEARLY need more sleep, less tension, less self-blame, FEWER TEARS. So I should probably just embrace the slug. Sorry, rest of the world. If you're going to be loud and big and jumping around, I'm going to stay behind for the time being. I'm going to have a mellow Christmas. I'm going to try to love the mellow.

what's the expiration date on my sympathy card?

2011-12-13T20:02:00.003-05:00

I'm typing this from my bed, because it's been another one of those days. I really, really wish I had something obviously wrong with me that I could point to and say, 'see, doctor, I'm bleeding from my eyeballs, fix it!' It is incredibly frustrating to have my symptoms be not-pain. My symptoms are a sour stomach and weakness and fatigue and anxiety and the feeling like I've been drugged, like I'm drunk, like my skin is crawling and my head is a hot air balloon. Because this has gone on for so long, I'm starting to worry that people aren't going to believe me when I say I'm just not well yet, because damnit, I don't always believe me, either. Some of the time I convince myself that perhaps I'm just insane. Or on my way. Thank god for S, who continually tells me I'm not crazy. Thank god for a soft bed and my ability to hope that I'll feel stronger in the morning. And kleenex. Dear lord, kleenex. I feel as if I have the best-flushed tear ducts in the whole county.

progress

2011-12-12T10:25:00.000-05:00

Jinxing whatever, whatever--I have to say that this weekend I spent two nights in a row out hanging out with friends and I WAS FINE. A little slower and sleepier than normal, but I could do it. It has been weeks and weeks since this was so easy. I'm feeling very glad.

reversion

2011-12-08T08:51:00.000-05:00

I think I did jinx myself. I'm struggling again. All I want is to (not be at work and) curl up on the floor for a few hours/all day. Screw my immune system. Seriously.

normalcy

2011-12-06T13:39:00.003-05:00

I don't want to jinx what is still an achingly gradual improvement, so I haven't really wanted to talk about it. But these are the facts: I'm feeling more human. But I am still craving shelter and fearing being left alone much more strongly than ever before. Still tiring quickly, still unable to eat things like supreme pizza without a day of payback.

I'm very jealous of the me of just a few months ago who never needed to think or worry about body's stability. These days I have to gauge myself every time I leave the apartment. Will I be able to stay upright through a trip to the grocery store? Can I handle a 90 minute community band rehearsal without becoming overwhelmed? I'm still very weak, and the virus, somehow, hijacked my senses in a way that has left me vulnerable to loud noises, bright lights, big crowds. My immunity to overstimulation has been slowly returning, I think. I DID survive a 90 minute community band rehearsal yesterday, even though it was so loud. And I'm on day two of a full day of work this week and though I don't feel great, I feel... ok. I'll last til 4:00. It helps when I'm distracted.

I wish I didn't know that my body was capable of this type and length of collapse. I'm afraid that now I know, I'll always be on the lookout for the next. It kind of sucks. But I DO feel better, I do. Have kicked, I hope for good, the low lingering fever and phlegm and the pervading feeling of malaise that colored a good month and a half of every waking moment. I'm still left with a weird stomach/digestive tract and muscle-deep fatigue. I miss normal poop. But I guess I'll just take things one step at a time.

Beyond my body, life has been sweet and I have been feeling Christmassy and warm. S has been reading Watership Down aloud to me in the evenings when he's home. We sit on the couch, and my mind DOES NOT WANDER. I am able to sit and listen to him and be perfectly in the moment. One evening we cut open a pomegranate and I fed him bites of the rich red seeds in between the chapters. We got and decorated a Christmas tree yesterday. I'm not looking forward to coming home to an empty apartment this evening, but knowing the tree will be there helps. I am determined to regain my ability to be alone and to take care of myself, and I am convinced that Christmas music and a pine scented candle will help.

I have been such a drama queen since I've been sick, full of tears and neediness and gasping out about DYING and NEVER GETTING BETTER and DEEP, DEEP SADNESS. But I'm happy to report that I haven't had a crying jag in three days. So, bring on the next few weeks. Bring on this one-day-at-a-time hike back to normalcy. (Normalcy! WTF!)

craft time

2011-12-02T14:48:00.000-05:00

Today is about curative rice pudding and puppet making. And clean results on this week's tests--blood is fine, poop is fine, heart rhythm is just a little faster than normal but fine. If a part of this sickness (and I believe this is the case) has been psychosomatic, NOW is the time for my mind to get the message that I'm going to be just fine, so that my body can finally follow suit. It will feel so good to be hungry again.

weepy mess part five trillion

2011-12-01T18:01:00.001-05:00

My parents keep saying that there is reason in my sickness. Reason is definitely something to cling to, five and a half weeks in. Dad said maybe it's so I learn to fully rely on and trust S. Boom, whack, you're vulnerable. I guess this is what marriage is made of. Or maybe the reason of this is to give me a chance to revel in all the amazingly generous and warm and loving people around me. I mean. I have been so doted on. Today there was ginger ale (my favorite coworker keeps me supplied), and a get well card that said 'pretty please!' and then when I got home from the doctor's office just now, a lady from my parents' church, who has already given me so much, like a toaster, and beautiful ferns to decorate the sanctuary for our wedding, drove twenty miles into town to bring me chicken noodle soup and crackers and freshly baked bread and a poinsettia plant. My first poinsettia plant. I have not gone more than twelve hours, give or take, without breaking down into tears for quite some time now. And now I'm crying again, because of the poinsettia and the food, and because this is so much for one day! And yet it's just a piece of the amazing care and soft hands that have been all around me throughout this damn sickness. It's not over yet--I'm still not whole. I guess maybe that means that there's another reason in this somewhere. Like, I don't know, a 'come to Jesus' moment on my horizon or something. Or maybe I was always meant to own the pink plastic puke pan my mom gave to me the other day. Now that it's in my possession, perhaps my tribulations will soon be over. Waah. At this point I think I may be asking for tissues for Christmas, and that's it.

#30

2011-11-30T22:18:00.002-05:00

I'm thankful for sudoku, which calms me. And for S's sweatshirts, because ditto.

#29

2011-11-29T21:31:00.001-05:00

I think maybe I'm thankful that of all the many times I felt like I was about to puke today, I only actually legitimately puked once. Trust me, it could have been worse. Also, I got to give a stool sample for the first time in my life. I guess I'm just thankful that there are people out there willing to analyze that... crap... for me.

#28

2011-11-28T17:30:00.000-05:00

Thankful for white undershirts.