a little better yesterday, not sure yet about today

Yesterday, I woke up stressy but managed to get through the day without an ativan.  My general rule is retching from anxiety or too much nausea from general awful GI issues = ativan.  Although right now I’m trying to struggle through the nausea without taking any since I worry that I am having rebound anxiety.  I had tried not taking any benadryl the night before, to see if maybe the benadryl was having some sort of rebound effect in the AM.

It kept creeping up on me yesterday, and I managed to dodge it pretty well.  Either doing deep breathing (not convinced that helps…or that I’m doing it right) or keeping busy.  I took a walk in the AM before it got hot.  Not a long or fast walk, and there were lots of rest breaks on the way, but I wanted to try something new.  I busied my way right into two hours of pain, dizziness, and intense fatigue though by overdoing it cleaning the bathroom.  I went out with my husband to the mall and bed and bath to look for shirts for him (not a lot of luck) and juice containers for me (just bought a juicer).  I was ok in the stores, but riding in the car, between stores and on the way home, I was having anxiety again.

Last night, by a few hours before bedtime I was feeling fine anxiety-wise.  I was not feeling fine gut and headache-wise but, well, at least it wasn’t everything.  I didn’t take any benadryl again, so we’ll see how that goes today.  I woke up stressy as hell today, but did the deep breathing in bed.  I managed to work my way down after doing that for what felt like forever.  And I even got up before my husband today, which is something I haven’t done practically since this started.

My juicer came yesterday.  I’m excited to try, slowly, some juice today. I was going to start with watermelon, very watered down watermelon.

Fall food, part 2

The cake was a hit.  Mr. Patient made blackberry coulis, a variation on the recipe here.  Variation because Mr. Patient and I are very bad about our quantities.  We just kind of cook by eye, nose, and taste.  Looks, smells, and tastes right?  It’s right!  I made a spiced peach puree.  A super simple recipe that I’ll post below – and quite tasty….if you like peach.  I was informed by my brother that peach, along with cinnamon is a “dirty flavor”.  It’s not bad, but it’s not fresh, was his reasoning.  Well then apparently I like “dirty” flavors, because I really liked this peach puree and the bright sweetness was a nice counterpoint to the tart and complex blackberry sauce.

Spiced peach puree:

Again, quantities are rough estimates (except for the peaches, on account of packaging).

4 cups of diced peaches, strained.  You can probably use frozen or fresh too but I find the cups of diced peaches are better in terms of softness (or absence) of peel.

1 – 2 Tbsp of cinnamon

2 dashes of ground ginger

1/4 cup of white sugar

Place all ingredients in a blender or food processor.  Blend thoroughly and chill.

In the photo immediately below, the peach puree is to the left of the cake slice.  The right of the cake has the lemon icing, and then laid on that and to the right is the blackberry.  I probably would just do one if I were doing it again, but I had to try it all since this was a new set of foods for me.  The blackberry is too dark to really discern but the color was a deep red, so that plus the cake and peaches made for a really nice set of Fall colors.  Below the cake picture is a shot of the pumpkin pudding, the pumpkin pudding recipe is here.  I made another batch yesterday AM before going out with my brother on our birthday shopping trip.  Consider it “queer eye for Dyspatient”, it was my birthday present from him, a shopping trip to a store that there’s no way in hell I would have gotten myself to because after parking and walking and shopping, I would not have had the energy to get home.  Success, I scored a couple of nice additions to the wardrobe, including two very nice, lightweight cardigans that will convert my yearlong summer wardrobe into something more seasonally appropriate.  With heat intolerance comes a whole slew of clothing constraints, a major one being sleeveless or short sleeved tops are now a necessity.  I’m pretty tired though.  Woke up today with a bit of hurting.  My “little” brother is 6’4″ so even walking slow, it’s hard for him to walk at my snail’s pace (I’m 5’4″), and the faster I walk, the harder I come down on the hips and legs.

angel food cake with peach puree and blackberry sauce


Whisky pumpkin into pudding base in a stovetop saucepan.
And pumpkin pudding!


A word I can never spell without checking.

It’s a relevant word right now because since I’ve started paying attention to it, I’ve noticed some strange things about my sweating pattern.  Today’s discovery:  asymmetrical sweating.  I am currently sweating on the right, but not the left.  Uh…I’m pretty sure that’s not how I used to do it.  I distinctly recall scrubbing out sweat stains on some of my shirts, and stains on both sides.  Maybe I’ve always been right dominant?  Dunno.  But today’s peculiarity makes me wonder if I can join A at Playing the Hand in her circus act.

On the plus side, I no longer have to use antiperspirant.  I can get by with deodorant only and stay nice and dry.  And there’s this lovely grey silk shirt I own which I had to retire from my wardrobe last year due to its ability to highlight even the smallest drop of sweat…breaking that lady out now since I can wear it with relative impunity (relative because if I get stressed, angry, or upset, the faucets start running).  Down side?  Have you ever tried to find deodorant that is not also antiperspirant AND which doesn’t have aloe and/or “ocean fresh man musk” scent?  Difficult doesn’t even begin to describe it.  I’m getting by with some kind of new age “crystal” mineral deodorant right now.  Works ok, doesn’t make me itch like aloe would, and I don’t smell like a 1970s man whore.


I do believe I’ve ranted about this before.  Probably every season change.  Clothes.  I have a love/hate relationship with them.  I hate shopping, I love new clothes.  Currently, my new wardrobe acquisitions are limited to work clothes, which means I have a serious paucity of casual wear that I like.  Or that fits.

Fitting is the other issue, a newer one that overlies the life long hatred of shopping.  I gain and lose several clothing sizes every year.  Each time I think I’ve stabilized, up or down my weight goes.  It is extremely frustrating.  It leads to having a constant surplus of clothing that I can’t exactly retire since I might grow or shrink into again.  And if I give it away, then when I do change sizes, I will have to shop again.  Ugh.

I have never been able to bear tightness in waistbands, but I also don’t like to dress like I’m wearing a potato sack.  This adds another layer of complexity to choosing clothing.

Still more is added by my screwy physiological thermostat.  This has implications for whole outfits, but it also specifically bans leggings, tights or waist high hose.  So skirts have to come down low enough for me to wear knee highs with them.  It also has significant implications for my shoe choices.  (btw, I just spelled “shoe” as “shew”, then thought, no, that’s not right.  Fixed it, and now “shoe” looks absurd.  Clearly I need more coffee).  Because of the overheating, no shoes that enclose too much of my foot.  My toes dislocate on their own and one has done it so much that it now just pushes in towards the big toe to the extent that if I don’t wear a silicone sheath on it when I walk, I will step on my own toe.  I’ve never been one for pointy toed or very high heels so this toe migration did not come about from a poor choice of footwear, but now in addition to wearing shoes with a wide toe (which I’m fine with), I have to wear ones that are not too “shallow” and I can wear no heels whatsoever (which sucks).


hot foot

I’ve posted before about the hot hands, with pictures even.  This happens with my feet too.  So much so that at one point during my interview for the new job, I HAD to take off my shoes.  I mean had to.  It felt like my feet were on fire and were just going to pop.  This in combination with the badness that can happen to my feet has brought me to a point where I am finally going to break down and get some damned open toe shoes.

I am not a fan of open toe shoes.  I recall seeing a hospital staff member (in radiology I think) wearing them once in recent years and thinking “are you fucking crazy?”  My memories of working in a hospital include coming across the occasional puddle of something on the floor.  Yes, they get cleaned up but usually only after a staff member encounters them.  If that staff member’s encounter involves traipsing through the mystery fluid in open toe shoes, well, “ewww” only about half covers it.

very uncomfortable looking shoe saturated with flame color because they are evil.


Since, oh jeez, about 2002, it has seemed that women’s summer shoes are dominated by open toes.  I have not been on board with this trend.  I kept hoping it would pass.  I don’t love my toes, less so now that the “ring finger” toe on my right foot has decided to curl up and hide under the middle toe.  The foot doc I saw about that gave me a lecture on shoe types, that I should wear wide toe shoes and avoid heels.  She did this while I was in her office with what essentially look like clown shoes on…I do NOT wear narrow toed shoes and I haven’t worn heels of any height since before Lyme Disease and the joint pains that now are a daily part of my life.  Didn’t matter to her, what mattered was that my toes looked like they belonged to someone who wore evil stiletto heels therefore I must wear evil stiletto heels.  Couldn’t be part of the systemic thing that is wrong with me, you know, that connective tissue thing that my body has spent most of my life declaring to greater or lesser degrees and which I was well trained at explaining away:

  • “Mommy, my legs hurt” “It’s growing pains”
  • “Mommy, I twisted my ankle, again” “You just have loose ligaments”
  • “Mommy, I have a rash” “Let’s see (pulls out medical book with eye-wateringly horrible rashes on children and old people)…now (flips through pages with book open on her lap so I  can see) THAT’S smallpox, and THAT’S impetego…”
  • “Doctor, my hip hurts” (Doctor has me lay down and snaps my leg around like Indiana Jones wielding his whip) “You have hypermobile joints.  It’s a normal variant, but it can cause some wear and tear on the joint.  I’m giving you a PT consult”.
  • “Physical therapist, my ankle hurts now that you’ve had me doing all these exercises that involve using it as a pivot” “Well it shouldn’t hurt, we really aren’t doing THAT much”
  • Etc.

Wide open toe or not, it seems my toes are feeling the wanderlust and deviating from where they should be.  This is giving me an increasingly snaggle-toed effect.  On my already unlovely feet.  I don’t have cute little toes on a dainty little foot.  I have long, creepy toes on a long narrow boney foot.  Hence, I do not feel they should be highlighted when I am dressing to impress, which includes dressing for work.  Add this to my feelings about open toe shoes in general (which, to quote the fictional Archchancellor Ridcully, I would comfortably describe as “unhygienic”) and you get some serious avoidance of the shoe type.  However, I can’t keep taking my shoes off at work.  These feet need air, to help prevent the “badness” and to keep them from feeling like a nuclear reactor melting down.

And so it is off to the nail salon to try to put a nice shine on the snaggle-toed monkey feet, then off to the shoe store to check out some open toe sandals that I don’t feel silly, ugly, or naked wearing.

makes the world go around

That’s right.  Money. Just paid the bills and all.  And I’m thinking about my upcoming medical time off without pay.  Yes, a minimum of 3.5 weeks without a dollar coming in from me.  I think it’s going to be a meager christmas this year.  I’ll have some overtime pay after next week (finals always means extra hours…I’m going in for unpaid extra hours today) but that won’t be a hell of a lot.

However, I do believe it is worth it.  Assuming the surgery goes well that is.  I miss time, often without pay, for medical stuff.  I don’t think the hysterectomy will be a magic bullet.  I do entertain fantasies that some of the bowel stuff will clear up once old “boggy” is out of there.  I know that is a long shot though.  But boy, that would be god damned awesome.  How much time I lose to the intestinal fuckery is something I can’t bring myself to calculate (because it would depress the hell out of me) but which is massive, especially if I include all the symptoms caused or worsened by my current, prolonged state of malnutrition.  Oh and the clothing expenditures from when I unexpectedly lose 10 pounds after a bad two weeks or so.  There’s not enough space in my closet to cover the range of sizes I require in a given season – from 6 to 12…that’s a big spread folks.  And invariably, when I finally retire a size or break down and buy something to replace formerly retired sizes, my weight changes.  A lot.

But, as unlikely as it is that the bowel will improve post-op, it is about as likely that surgery could in fact cause some bowel complications.  So in short, I see this as a bit of a gamble – still, it’s one that I think has good odds for paying off or at least breaking even.