I have had quite a few gear shifts in my life as of late. First was actually not mine, but Claudia's. After her husband died, I didn't know what to say or write, and truthfully that's where most of the non blogging came from. What could I possible write that could have any meaning after that? I spend many nights clinging to my poor husband so hard I don't think he slept at all.
But time passed and I relaxed, and got things back into perspective. So it was all good. My husband even decided to finally get the physical I'd been after him about for years to help me feel better. And he proved to be in excellent physical shape until the stress test. Which he failed so badly that doctors came in and stopped the tests and began asking him if he had had heart attacks in the past. What the f*#&? So then came the nuclear stress test, and after a couple of weeks of freaking the hell out (as you can imagine, but this is just me, mind you - he was cool as a cucumber) we find out the first test was wrong. Thank you, and who will be paying the bills on both the botched test and the unnecessary one? Oh, that would be me. But you know I'd pay anything for him to be ok, so I really don't mind.
OK, so that's most of the summer, but it's back to business as usual. And I am still loving my job, so that's good, even though I can't work right now. Oh, but I am getting ahead of myself.
Wow, way ahead of myself, let me go back before this, I am remiss in not mentioning that my Dad's surgery went well and he's fine. Thanks to everyone who sent good wishes and thoughts our way.
So back to the end of summer. Since 2005, not my fave time of year. Many of you know that hurricane Katrina destroyed my parents' house. They have been in the new house about a year now, it's very nice. I do have to say, though, that the evacuation for Gustav was stressful for us all, even though I loved having a visit from my folks. When they finally got power back and were able to return home everything got slowly back to normal. Until last Wednesday.
That's the first day the vertigo started. I didn't know how bad it would get then. By Friday I had to call in to work and call my husband to come home from his work and bring me to the doctor. Since then I have only left the house once when Happy Goth and Jennie were kind enough to pick me up and take me out for the afternoon. But I still do not have a consistent and reliable concept of where the floor and ceiling are at any given time and the only time I feel normal is when I am medicated to the nines and have been seated and unmoving for at least 10 or 15 minutes. Or laying in bed, again with the not moving. Then I feel as normal as anything, like I should just be able to get up and walk across the room like its nothing special at all.
Shows you what the hell I know. I need a sign to wear if I ever leave the house again that explains to everyone whose path I will inevitably stumble across that I am not, indeed, drunk. I also need to stop trying to knit. It only ends badly, and I am coming perilously close to finding out how many times I can frog Trekking before it is completely ruined. I am very amusing to watch, though.
I am also scared that this won't end. I need to return to work. I'm not good at being off. I am also not good at being sick. Grrrrr.
Now I'm going to have some cheese. I think I have earned it. When I feel better and can operate a computer with more than one window open at a time, I'll put links in this post and post some pictures of the knitting I have done over the summer. Trust me, you don't want to see what I've been working on recently; it looks like someone tried to teach a deranged monkey how to knit.