I'm really quite happy with this recently invented title for my post, much happier than I am charting the gradual spread of rashes defecting from my eyelids and a few on my left leg, to covering both of my arms and threatening further border crossings. Is it possible to give yourself Psoriasis?
My eyes are still sore too but I've kind of run out of creams that don't sting or give me hives or that scare me by their side effects. So I'm going back to the doctor this week with a bagful of creams that don't work and a request for help. I'm also going to try with the hive cream again, just to check (while not home alone this time) that it really did give me that reaction.
The general thinking on the cause of all this is that it's all to do with stress, which is probably true, but I've been so much more positive in my head about various stressful situations that I'll be quite disappointed if I'm that unconnected to myself as to not know what I'm causing to break through the positive sheen.
What is more important for me right now is to keep lots of lots of positive thoughts flying through the air all the way to New Zealand for my big sis who is back in hospital for an operation. She is one of my favourite and most precious people in the world to me and I need her to get properly well so she can keep cultivating her house and farm for when I finally give in and cart us all over to live there to escape armageddon.
This one's for you Maccy, hives and all
xxx
I'm Sara J, TV exec and mother to two lovely boys, one with two very rare and magical genetic disorders. I always hoped to be happy - to try to have a career, a life and a family. To "have it all". So as life throws its punches, I've donned my protective clothing and am finding my way through this course I've chosen. Having It All. A Happy Medium. Somewhere In Between.
Tuesday, 30 November 2010
Tuesday, 16 November 2010
pssssssssssssssst
Just a little whisper
About an imperceptible release of pressure
A chunk of the cork at the neck of the pent up chaos and stress bottle, that seems to have wiggled its way free
The result of which has led me to a blog I started back in 2007
Over there, during what I now know was the most stressful year of last decade and my life so far, the person creating that blog and profile was trying to rise above it all.
It's a different me but another part of me all at the same time.
have a great day xx
About an imperceptible release of pressure
A chunk of the cork at the neck of the pent up chaos and stress bottle, that seems to have wiggled its way free
The result of which has led me to a blog I started back in 2007
Over there, during what I now know was the most stressful year of last decade and my life so far, the person creating that blog and profile was trying to rise above it all.
It's a different me but another part of me all at the same time.
have a great day xx
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
Messages, signs, guidance
To find yourself staring at your computer screen and typing Help into Google isn't necessarily a good sign. Nor were the aches and pains and head spins of this afternoon. So unfortunately, despite a lovely lunch with some lovely people, today wasn't going down as a day of note.
I left work trying not to spread my gloom, walked to the tube as usual, arriving to find my travel card had disappeared along the way, which made the anxiety levels shoot up a bit further.
As I hurriedly retraced my steps, calling the nanny to tell of my delay, I half noticed the relaxed girl with the water bottle, chatting to her friend and waving a distinctive, but common, blue Oyster card holder as she passed on her way into the station.
Brushing that off and rushing on by, all the way back to the office and then all the way back to the tube again, eyes down, still no sign of it.
Made a connection with the nice guard at Tottenham Court Rd station who told me what to do now it had gone.
I joined the long long queue of people trying to buy tickets at the two working machines at the peak of rush hour in a busy station. Trying trying not to cry or find a way to use this as justification of things being crappy.
I jumped out of the queue in indecision and a momentary loss of focus, then tried immediately to pop my way back in and convince the earphoned iphone reading man who had been standing behind me for 5 minutes that I wasn't just being cheeky.
Then all of a sudden the nice station guy called my name along the line, saw my thankful face as he held out my travel wallet saying to me "this is your lucky day".
As I hurried down the empty spiral staircase, travel card in hand, away from the rush hour throng, I cried quietly as I went, wondering
"Is it really?"
and trying to work out what, if anything, that last 15 minutes was trying to tell me.
I've got as far as a lesson in perspective, peripheral vision and keeping an open mind. All of which has made me feel significantly better writing this than I did a few hours ago.
I left work trying not to spread my gloom, walked to the tube as usual, arriving to find my travel card had disappeared along the way, which made the anxiety levels shoot up a bit further.
As I hurriedly retraced my steps, calling the nanny to tell of my delay, I half noticed the relaxed girl with the water bottle, chatting to her friend and waving a distinctive, but common, blue Oyster card holder as she passed on her way into the station.
Brushing that off and rushing on by, all the way back to the office and then all the way back to the tube again, eyes down, still no sign of it.
Made a connection with the nice guard at Tottenham Court Rd station who told me what to do now it had gone.
I joined the long long queue of people trying to buy tickets at the two working machines at the peak of rush hour in a busy station. Trying trying not to cry or find a way to use this as justification of things being crappy.
I jumped out of the queue in indecision and a momentary loss of focus, then tried immediately to pop my way back in and convince the earphoned iphone reading man who had been standing behind me for 5 minutes that I wasn't just being cheeky.
Then all of a sudden the nice station guy called my name along the line, saw my thankful face as he held out my travel wallet saying to me "this is your lucky day".
As I hurried down the empty spiral staircase, travel card in hand, away from the rush hour throng, I cried quietly as I went, wondering
"Is it really?"
and trying to work out what, if anything, that last 15 minutes was trying to tell me.
I've got as far as a lesson in perspective, peripheral vision and keeping an open mind. All of which has made me feel significantly better writing this than I did a few hours ago.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)