Monday, December 26, 2005
"I think I've had just about enough ham...
...got anything else for dinner?"
I (and those of you who know my mother, I'm sure) never thought I'd hear her utter this sentence in regard to ham, especially HoneyBaked Ham. She did, though, tonight. Yes, I had something else: One serving left of a chicken concoction I worked from the picture attached to a magazine recipe that attracted Mom's eye and palate. I mention this here because I don't think I'll be getting over to the Tests & Meds site tonight. Don't expect Stat Ketchup until tomorrow.
Thus, a few more reminders for myself: Bowel Movement at 1430 today; Very light lunch of cottage cheese at about 1715; Ham for breakfast, yet again, her request.
I continue with cold. I thought I'd be able to get away with feeling good through the entire infection but about 10 hours ago I began feeling physically bad, in the way colds tend to make one feel bad. Surprised me. None of today's badness is amenable to ibuprofen, as the sore throat and fever were. I'm not a fan of using OTC cold preparations on myself, either. I tried to take a nap at about 1500. I felt as though I could use one, unusual for me, but my nose, which has now graduated to "Running the Marathon" status, would allow me to sleep. So, I've been dragging all afternoon and evening. This hasn't affected my generally good mood, though, which is an unexpected surprise.
I'm trying hard not to pass this cold on to Mom. I'm keeping our tissues separate; no kissing allowed, which is hard on both of us; I'm indulging in obsessive hand washing and lotion application to keep my hands from cracking; every time I prepare something for her I breathe "in the other direction", which is an interesting challenge. So far so good. She's told me several times that she simply refuses to contract my cold. Good. I wish I'd thought to use this tactic on whomever it was that blessed me with it.
It's been so long, years, in fact, since I've been at all ill from an infectious disease that I'm feeling rather like a child who's experiencing her first cold. I'd forgotten that I lose my appetite; my skin becomes super-sensitive; I drink water as though it's going out of style; my head feels like it's attached to someone else's body and I'm using it through a LAN.
Something I've been meaning to mention here of which I was reminded when I mentioned it to a friend: I alluded, some posts ago, to the possibility that I suffer from a type of Seasonal Affective Disorder. I'm only half joking. I'm finding, this winter, which is unusually warm, dry and sunny for this area this time of year, that the sun is irritating me, especially in the mornings when it floods the front of our house and I can't get away from it unless I want to spend all my time in the back of the house, which isn't possible. I remember this feeling during the summers in Seattle. Although they lasted only two months and were what most people would consider perfect summers, after a week of 18 hours of sun every day I'd find this natural perfection tedious and couldn't wait for the other 10 months of the year when Seattle was shrouded in mist. I wonder if anyone's done a study on the inverse of what is considered to be standard SAD: Those of us who prefer gray, wet days and find too much sun troublesome. I doubt that there are many of us but I remember, when I lived in Seattle, reading some commentary by Jonathan Raban, who made the Pacific Northwest his home, that there are some of us who can't get enough of "the gray" [thank you, Seal]; not many, but our preference is at least as strong as the general preference for non-precipitous days.
Yet one more reminder tick: A few evenings ago I asked my mother if she remembered why she originally asked me to be her companion through her Elder and Ancient years and if so, would she tell me why. I thought I already knew the answer. I was wrong. Her answer startled me. I'll cover that later.
I think I can get to sleep, now, regardless of what my nose decides to do. Here's hoping.
Later.
I (and those of you who know my mother, I'm sure) never thought I'd hear her utter this sentence in regard to ham, especially HoneyBaked Ham. She did, though, tonight. Yes, I had something else: One serving left of a chicken concoction I worked from the picture attached to a magazine recipe that attracted Mom's eye and palate. I mention this here because I don't think I'll be getting over to the Tests & Meds site tonight. Don't expect Stat Ketchup until tomorrow.
Thus, a few more reminders for myself: Bowel Movement at 1430 today; Very light lunch of cottage cheese at about 1715; Ham for breakfast, yet again, her request.
I continue with cold. I thought I'd be able to get away with feeling good through the entire infection but about 10 hours ago I began feeling physically bad, in the way colds tend to make one feel bad. Surprised me. None of today's badness is amenable to ibuprofen, as the sore throat and fever were. I'm not a fan of using OTC cold preparations on myself, either. I tried to take a nap at about 1500. I felt as though I could use one, unusual for me, but my nose, which has now graduated to "Running the Marathon" status, would allow me to sleep. So, I've been dragging all afternoon and evening. This hasn't affected my generally good mood, though, which is an unexpected surprise.
I'm trying hard not to pass this cold on to Mom. I'm keeping our tissues separate; no kissing allowed, which is hard on both of us; I'm indulging in obsessive hand washing and lotion application to keep my hands from cracking; every time I prepare something for her I breathe "in the other direction", which is an interesting challenge. So far so good. She's told me several times that she simply refuses to contract my cold. Good. I wish I'd thought to use this tactic on whomever it was that blessed me with it.
It's been so long, years, in fact, since I've been at all ill from an infectious disease that I'm feeling rather like a child who's experiencing her first cold. I'd forgotten that I lose my appetite; my skin becomes super-sensitive; I drink water as though it's going out of style; my head feels like it's attached to someone else's body and I'm using it through a LAN.
Something I've been meaning to mention here of which I was reminded when I mentioned it to a friend: I alluded, some posts ago, to the possibility that I suffer from a type of Seasonal Affective Disorder. I'm only half joking. I'm finding, this winter, which is unusually warm, dry and sunny for this area this time of year, that the sun is irritating me, especially in the mornings when it floods the front of our house and I can't get away from it unless I want to spend all my time in the back of the house, which isn't possible. I remember this feeling during the summers in Seattle. Although they lasted only two months and were what most people would consider perfect summers, after a week of 18 hours of sun every day I'd find this natural perfection tedious and couldn't wait for the other 10 months of the year when Seattle was shrouded in mist. I wonder if anyone's done a study on the inverse of what is considered to be standard SAD: Those of us who prefer gray, wet days and find too much sun troublesome. I doubt that there are many of us but I remember, when I lived in Seattle, reading some commentary by Jonathan Raban, who made the Pacific Northwest his home, that there are some of us who can't get enough of "the gray" [thank you, Seal]; not many, but our preference is at least as strong as the general preference for non-precipitous days.
Yet one more reminder tick: A few evenings ago I asked my mother if she remembered why she originally asked me to be her companion through her Elder and Ancient years and if so, would she tell me why. I thought I already knew the answer. I was wrong. Her answer startled me. I'll cover that later.
I think I can get to sleep, now, regardless of what my nose decides to do. Here's hoping.
Later.
