I got myself ready for the reconnaisance trip to IMSS. Elsa and I needed to present a case at the Directors' board meeting at 2pm. They would determine whether I was pulling a fast one and trying to extortionate public money for me. I knew quite well I wasn't. The issue was to convince them that really last week I was unable to work and to go back to work would be irresponsible.
So, it was back to that office. Post blood tests, I tried to do things like organise BUPA paperwork where I can claim for quite a substantial amount and print off a new hairstyle. Both things potentially take time especially for someone who's had a major op; about to face another stressful experience; has been awake since the crack of dawn and can't sleep anyway. As of Monday, I can't make any of these excuses so I'm taking advantage of it now.
Naturally when we arrived, things started late and after a bit of wandering, we were outside the board meeting. Elsa was at her politest especially with the two PA's. They are the best people to get on your side. We waited and waited and waited. The reassuring thought was at the end of the month (it's payday) and a Friday afternoon, no one really wants to work. We were pretty sure that they were ploughing through the action points as swiftly as possible and not be one of those turgid and aimless meetings which go on forever. They trooped out and I saw the director. He took us to his office and I even joined them in the lift. I'm claustrophobic and will try and avoid lifts. This time, I didn't want to let that man out of sight.
Bad news. My claim had been turned down. The good news is that I'm not anaemic and certainly that's one argument for the vegan cause but it did mean that I lost my entitlement for 10 days. In monetary terms, that's a considerable chunk. I earn a pretty good salary here but that's my only source of income. I like to have some leftover money for treats, sundaries and emergencies.
I was furious and frustrated. Elsa encouraged me to calm down but I was beyond calm...not meltdown standard. I have way too much dignity to scream in a public office but of course it has been known and this operation has meant a lot of dignity has not been left intact. Off we went back to the other doctor who in a funny way, had become my ally. Elsa was convinced that he was actually supporting my case. In a weird sort of way, he was. He returned to the director with the decision that I was entitled to the extra 10 days off work. Great! Though after all that hassle, waiting, persuading etc..I really couldn't feel so elated. And we needed to wait again which was only fair. He had sick people to see who were going through the same as I was and no doubt had the same frustrations.
We got it! It was in my hands. Though there were a few things that irked me. He gave some pointless lecture about 'we doctors need to investigate...blah, blah, blah'. Who did he think he was? Doctor House? And I wanted to be spared the guilt trip. They were already driving me mad. Also, I always want the last word. I didn't get it. I came with my EZLN bag which was kind of cheeky in a government organisation. In all honesty, it matched my outfit and could carry my documents. I swear I wasn't being subversive...really. Elsa made me switch it though. It was for the best. The doctor was still obsessed with finding answers. Another blood pressure check and more comments on my weight but there were none. It was simply a slow recovery from major surgery where things won't happen overnight and it won't necessarily be proved by a quick blood test. Elsa did all the talking. I agree with this but as a control freak and someone who prides myself on being independent, I felt very uncomfortable giving up control. Again, another thing which was for the best. More to the point, the incapacidad was in my hands. Result and objective achieved. Not without a fight and not without long hours waiting and waiting. We both reckon that it was down to pure tenancity. Most people would've thought 'fuck it' and believe me, there were a lot of times I was going down that road. But without Elsa's support, I would've surrendered.
One way I can sum up my feelings for the past month is a cage and being trapped. This could be how I was trapped in institutions like hospitals and now the IMSS office. I can't stand being in a lift. So, you can all imagine how it felt to wait and be trapped in a hospital or an office against my will or for my own good. I was also trapped in my body and mind. No energy and no freedom to do what I wanted. This was a combination of both the mental and the physical. I knew that the nurses in my flat for week 2 were necessary but again, I couldn't breathe either. I was also encased with language and needing people to speak on my behalf. Maybe it would be different if I spoke better Spanish and tried harder to learn in the past. But, the things I was dealing with whether it be authorities, emotions, and physical things were all brand new and things that I am still trying to comprehend in my own English speaking brain.
I can see that the cage door is open. Slowly. I feel a lot more free but am still restrained. The harder part may start now when I want to begin rebuilding my life after almost 6 weeks of not doing an awful lot.
My new life or picking up my old life starts now as of today. I'm off to find a hairdressers for a new look. I get the fear (another control thing) about going to salons but I can't reintergrate back into society looking like this. I hope that goes well. Tonight, it's Eduardo's birthday and yes, I'm going. I'm nervous. I can drink but I've got used to my introverted post op bubble. It's become kind of comforting but it's time to relaunch myself back into a social scene so we'll see how it goes and whether indeed I can make it out tonight.
Saturday, 26 February 2011
Friday, 25 February 2011
Fishwick vs IMSS part one
I really hope this blog hasn't transformed into a diatribe against IMSS. I totally understand why they are questioning my incapacidad. They need to be help accountable and they can't be handing out sick notes without evidence. Perhaps, it's a good sign that Mexico is subject to less corruption and more rigourous and transparent procedures but...I'm somewhat feeling pretty victimised by it all.
Shit...I said the 'v' word. I apologise.
Yesterday afternoon, I was there again with Elsa in tow. More profuse apologies about the long queue, the waiting time for around 3 and a half hours and my uselessness not to deal with this by myself. I was reckoning up that since my operation, I've spent a disproportionate amount of time hanging around IMSS though from what I see and understand, this is hardly unusual. In fact, quite typical so perhaps I need to quit complaining. I saw the doctor and yes it was that awful man again. The one who refused the incapacidad. Arsehole.
Eventually, we got to see him. It was the same old story. The scar is fine therefore I am fine. It would be helpful to see a psychologist to prove I'm down at the moment. Not an option for reasons throughout the blog. However and now I'm not sure if this was an excuse to refuse my incapacidad or at least make it difficult, apparently, Mexicans genetically have lower rates of haemoglobin so anaemia is generally not taken as an excuse for taking time off work. The fact that I don't have a drop of Mexican blood surpassed them, but anyway, I'm in the Mexican system so am treated accordingly. I'm now researching articles online to prove this point, but medical journals are not my speciality.
The doctors were willing to bring my case to the board. What I needed to do was take blood tests to prove that I am anaemic though my regular intake of iron tablets, folic acid and vegan yet iron rich food so the anaemia could be counteracted. I may and I am deeply ashamed of this, could play the vegan card. I really don't want to..but needs must.
Anyway, I had reached the end of my tether for all kind of reasons. I've had enough of tests, talking about the operation and people coming along to help. All I want to do is get on with my life. I cried in the surgery but somehow Elsa convinced me to go.
I braced myself for an early start. These anxious thoughts are keeping me awake so really to get to IMSS at 6:30am was the last thing I needed. More anxious thoughts but at least I woke up, bleary eyed and so tired that I forgot I had to bring along some pee. I managed to squeeze a bit out though.
I was there and saw a neverending queue. I got a wave of despair, started to cry again and was on the verge of texting Elsa and telling her 'No, it's not worth it'. In fact several times, I continually asked myself, 'Is it worth it?' After 3 months of continual checks, invasions, help and support, I felt violated, overwhelmed and exhausted. Could I deal with more stress? All I wanted was to enjoy my last day before going back to work and do something nice like get my hair done.
Luckily, a guy in the long queue spoke English and helped out a bit. Even better, the medical staff took the blood test quickly so I was home by 8am. Much better than I expected.
Now my thoughts now are about haircuts. I urgently need to get something done but time is against me. I'm thinking about a new colour but would my excuse of missing a board meeting because a cut and colour is far better for my mental state wash?
I just hope they make a decision quickly so I can get on with the more pleasant things in life and prepare for my integration into the real world.
Shit...I said the 'v' word. I apologise.
Yesterday afternoon, I was there again with Elsa in tow. More profuse apologies about the long queue, the waiting time for around 3 and a half hours and my uselessness not to deal with this by myself. I was reckoning up that since my operation, I've spent a disproportionate amount of time hanging around IMSS though from what I see and understand, this is hardly unusual. In fact, quite typical so perhaps I need to quit complaining. I saw the doctor and yes it was that awful man again. The one who refused the incapacidad. Arsehole.
Eventually, we got to see him. It was the same old story. The scar is fine therefore I am fine. It would be helpful to see a psychologist to prove I'm down at the moment. Not an option for reasons throughout the blog. However and now I'm not sure if this was an excuse to refuse my incapacidad or at least make it difficult, apparently, Mexicans genetically have lower rates of haemoglobin so anaemia is generally not taken as an excuse for taking time off work. The fact that I don't have a drop of Mexican blood surpassed them, but anyway, I'm in the Mexican system so am treated accordingly. I'm now researching articles online to prove this point, but medical journals are not my speciality.
The doctors were willing to bring my case to the board. What I needed to do was take blood tests to prove that I am anaemic though my regular intake of iron tablets, folic acid and vegan yet iron rich food so the anaemia could be counteracted. I may and I am deeply ashamed of this, could play the vegan card. I really don't want to..but needs must.
Anyway, I had reached the end of my tether for all kind of reasons. I've had enough of tests, talking about the operation and people coming along to help. All I want to do is get on with my life. I cried in the surgery but somehow Elsa convinced me to go.
I braced myself for an early start. These anxious thoughts are keeping me awake so really to get to IMSS at 6:30am was the last thing I needed. More anxious thoughts but at least I woke up, bleary eyed and so tired that I forgot I had to bring along some pee. I managed to squeeze a bit out though.
I was there and saw a neverending queue. I got a wave of despair, started to cry again and was on the verge of texting Elsa and telling her 'No, it's not worth it'. In fact several times, I continually asked myself, 'Is it worth it?' After 3 months of continual checks, invasions, help and support, I felt violated, overwhelmed and exhausted. Could I deal with more stress? All I wanted was to enjoy my last day before going back to work and do something nice like get my hair done.
Luckily, a guy in the long queue spoke English and helped out a bit. Even better, the medical staff took the blood test quickly so I was home by 8am. Much better than I expected.
Now my thoughts now are about haircuts. I urgently need to get something done but time is against me. I'm thinking about a new colour but would my excuse of missing a board meeting because a cut and colour is far better for my mental state wash?
I just hope they make a decision quickly so I can get on with the more pleasant things in life and prepare for my integration into the real world.
Existential crisis or the dangers of having too much time to think
Sorry, yet another self centred post about the dark thoughts of Liz. Anyway, I hope this helps anyone who is going through the same process.
Having time is a luxury for me. Usually, I don't have a lot with work, with friends or with other things that I do. I am now learning that time can be an enemy and can provoke the odd crisis. I've been thinking a lot and perhaps too much. I'm concerned that my passion for life has gone down the toilet but was it there anyway?
I'm pondering the usual questions of existence like whether I am changing the lives of others and would such aspirations be idealistic. Have I let myself down? Am I an activist in thoughts but not in deeds?
My question is are such thoughts leading to a change in life or is it simply that I've stopped and given myself some much needed time. Or is having the luxury of time and space to think is confusing and destructive?
Time will tell when I get caught up in the so called rat race next week. I've had a chat with my manager about returning to work. The target is Monday the 28th of February. I've been awake with anxiety about a whole plethora of issues along with others. She has promised a lot of support and I've promised to be honest. If the tasks get too much or too overwhelming, then it's fine. I'm just concerned about short term memories and perhaps not being open enough myself that sometimes, I won't be able to cope. I just need to keep on with the mantra that strenght can manifest itself in very different ways and not just that of 'getting on with it'. Let's hope that I can do it.
My friend Elsa's also off work so we had time to meet up and hang out. Another person who spends far too much time at the desk and not enough time for herself. She's had her tonsils out so can't swallow. I'm not able to have sex or at least such a thing would be risky. Her joke is that we would make a terrible pair of prostitutes right now.
I broke down in her car. A few things made me feel pretty fragile and yes, the tears came. I hated it but then I realised that actually it's OK. I really appreciated the honesty of the conversation though. Her mum has also had a hysterectomy and understands that to say 'Are you better?' isn't necessarily the best question. In fact, it could be one of the worst. I'm answering positively to please others and this is not a reflection of how I really feel. She apologised that some of her thoughts were negetive but to be honest, the positive spin on events has begun to grate. This links in with a comment from a friend whose husband died suddenly last year. He was in his 40's. She told me that people have said to her a lot over the last year that everything happens for a reason. My first thoughts are 'What a cliche! People are just saying words because they don't know what to say.' Then, I really liked the next comment that she is still looking for the reasons and in the meantime, she's going to enjoy life. Basically, to rationalise the irrational is destructive. I cannot compare our two situations but she's right. There are no reasons why these things happened to us.
Once I got all my feelings out of my system, we had a lovely evening. The usual things like laiughing at websites, talking about men, laughing at the losers on Craig's List looking for love. Maybe this is what I needed. A good evening far away from my flat and my thoughts. Laughing and not looking for reasons or answers to any of the above questions.
Having time is a luxury for me. Usually, I don't have a lot with work, with friends or with other things that I do. I am now learning that time can be an enemy and can provoke the odd crisis. I've been thinking a lot and perhaps too much. I'm concerned that my passion for life has gone down the toilet but was it there anyway?
I'm pondering the usual questions of existence like whether I am changing the lives of others and would such aspirations be idealistic. Have I let myself down? Am I an activist in thoughts but not in deeds?
My question is are such thoughts leading to a change in life or is it simply that I've stopped and given myself some much needed time. Or is having the luxury of time and space to think is confusing and destructive?
Time will tell when I get caught up in the so called rat race next week. I've had a chat with my manager about returning to work. The target is Monday the 28th of February. I've been awake with anxiety about a whole plethora of issues along with others. She has promised a lot of support and I've promised to be honest. If the tasks get too much or too overwhelming, then it's fine. I'm just concerned about short term memories and perhaps not being open enough myself that sometimes, I won't be able to cope. I just need to keep on with the mantra that strenght can manifest itself in very different ways and not just that of 'getting on with it'. Let's hope that I can do it.
My friend Elsa's also off work so we had time to meet up and hang out. Another person who spends far too much time at the desk and not enough time for herself. She's had her tonsils out so can't swallow. I'm not able to have sex or at least such a thing would be risky. Her joke is that we would make a terrible pair of prostitutes right now.
I broke down in her car. A few things made me feel pretty fragile and yes, the tears came. I hated it but then I realised that actually it's OK. I really appreciated the honesty of the conversation though. Her mum has also had a hysterectomy and understands that to say 'Are you better?' isn't necessarily the best question. In fact, it could be one of the worst. I'm answering positively to please others and this is not a reflection of how I really feel. She apologised that some of her thoughts were negetive but to be honest, the positive spin on events has begun to grate. This links in with a comment from a friend whose husband died suddenly last year. He was in his 40's. She told me that people have said to her a lot over the last year that everything happens for a reason. My first thoughts are 'What a cliche! People are just saying words because they don't know what to say.' Then, I really liked the next comment that she is still looking for the reasons and in the meantime, she's going to enjoy life. Basically, to rationalise the irrational is destructive. I cannot compare our two situations but she's right. There are no reasons why these things happened to us.
Once I got all my feelings out of my system, we had a lovely evening. The usual things like laiughing at websites, talking about men, laughing at the losers on Craig's List looking for love. Maybe this is what I needed. A good evening far away from my flat and my thoughts. Laughing and not looking for reasons or answers to any of the above questions.
Tuesday, 22 February 2011
The Guilt Trip
God (how appropriate)...how I hate being brought up Catholic. I'm an atheist now, have no issues surrounding sex and most sins but the guilt. It's like syphillus and will never go away. After feeling guilty about being lazy and not doiung anything, I decided to cure some of the defeciencies I've got, so off I went to Plaza Rio Janiero to read my book. Durimg that short time, on top of the previous guilt trips, I had three more..
1. A man said 'hello' to me. I glared at him like he was a rapist then realised he could be a friend of a good friend. Oh well..one can always blame the op. Memory loss and the (lack of) ability to run away from men.
2. Two market researchers approached me about some survey. I was happy reading and my Spanish sucks. Then thought that this job is all about facing rejection and something I'd never do as I'm scared of rejection and it would've been great Spanish practice.
I'm not sure if feeling guilty is a side effect of a hysterectomy, being me, or being a Catholic but I sure have a whole lot more time to think and feel like shit about my own existence.
I've been thinking about my appearance a bit and yes feeling bad that how can I think of such superficial things. My hair's a mullet. Now body hair...yeuch! I am so happy that my libido is pretty lacklustre because I wouldn't sleep with me if I saw me in a bar. I can almost plait my hairs on my legs and lets not go down the pubic area (and no...no one would go down there unless they had a hairy lady fetish). I want to post on hystersisters about would it be advisable to get a wax done as I resemble a Victorian porn model but admist all these stories of pain and some pretty serious shit, then such things ring shallow. Or do they? The most popular post so far was all about drinking booze.
I do love the perception of my facebook update..'Liz needs to buy some acid'. Like as if. Post op or not, I haven't touched it in years and it's Tuesday afternoon. I needed to clarify 'folic acid'. I need to get my kicks from somewhere, right?
1. A man said 'hello' to me. I glared at him like he was a rapist then realised he could be a friend of a good friend. Oh well..one can always blame the op. Memory loss and the (lack of) ability to run away from men.
2. Two market researchers approached me about some survey. I was happy reading and my Spanish sucks. Then thought that this job is all about facing rejection and something I'd never do as I'm scared of rejection and it would've been great Spanish practice.
I'm not sure if feeling guilty is a side effect of a hysterectomy, being me, or being a Catholic but I sure have a whole lot more time to think and feel like shit about my own existence.
I've been thinking about my appearance a bit and yes feeling bad that how can I think of such superficial things. My hair's a mullet. Now body hair...yeuch! I am so happy that my libido is pretty lacklustre because I wouldn't sleep with me if I saw me in a bar. I can almost plait my hairs on my legs and lets not go down the pubic area (and no...no one would go down there unless they had a hairy lady fetish). I want to post on hystersisters about would it be advisable to get a wax done as I resemble a Victorian porn model but admist all these stories of pain and some pretty serious shit, then such things ring shallow. Or do they? The most popular post so far was all about drinking booze.
I do love the perception of my facebook update..'Liz needs to buy some acid'. Like as if. Post op or not, I haven't touched it in years and it's Tuesday afternoon. I needed to clarify 'folic acid'. I need to get my kicks from somewhere, right?
Un poco de poco
The final stretch is here of no work and yes, it's on my mind. Also, I'm feeling so much better but am terrified of these minor blips which can attack and creates doubts that I'm still not so good. I need to definitely get my sleeping pattern back to normal. I've noticed that I sleep late with my head filled with anxieties and as a result, wake up late and have some very lazy mornings. Then, I feel all guilty about being slovenly and not doing anything. I need another worry list but I've got no one to share it with. Thank god that the EAP counsellor phoned yesterday. This should help me deal with the psychological side of the operation. There's a lot to process and think about here. It might make me feel better to share some concerns here though.
1. Work anxiety. How to manage and how to cope. Can I work reduced hours? What happens if I can't renew my contract?
2. IMSS and the admin side of post op. Need to do it..but the office is really stressful.
3. Carer fatigue and have people got bored of me. How aware are they that this operation does have a long recovery time?
4. Are some being a bit distant right now? Or am I creating distance? Or is it both?
5. How long will it be before I'm 100% or near as damn it?
6. Have I missed any bureaucractic procedures?
7. Am I being lazy?
8. Could I do any more?
Despite the slight hangover, yesterday was a good day. I met with Andrew for a wander around. I still tire easily but it's much better than before and perhaps an all day Sunday session may have had a lot to do with it. I'm glad though that slowly, I'm getting there. Some things are not following the hysterectomy rule book but what was that anyway? I see posts all the time from the 'hyster sisters' like I did everything right and I still got in a mess.' Maybe there is a case that doing what I want now and again can and does help.
I'm now going to plough through my to do list. Again, I'm being the Queen of Procrastination right now and this is clearly work avoidance or fear. I've got a tendency to avoid things I find tough or I don't like doing and this may have contributed to my latest list of anxieties. OK...time to go and act. Sitting on my arse isn't helping anyone here.
1. Work anxiety. How to manage and how to cope. Can I work reduced hours? What happens if I can't renew my contract?
2. IMSS and the admin side of post op. Need to do it..but the office is really stressful.
3. Carer fatigue and have people got bored of me. How aware are they that this operation does have a long recovery time?
4. Are some being a bit distant right now? Or am I creating distance? Or is it both?
5. How long will it be before I'm 100% or near as damn it?
6. Have I missed any bureaucractic procedures?
7. Am I being lazy?
8. Could I do any more?
Despite the slight hangover, yesterday was a good day. I met with Andrew for a wander around. I still tire easily but it's much better than before and perhaps an all day Sunday session may have had a lot to do with it. I'm glad though that slowly, I'm getting there. Some things are not following the hysterectomy rule book but what was that anyway? I see posts all the time from the 'hyster sisters' like I did everything right and I still got in a mess.' Maybe there is a case that doing what I want now and again can and does help.
I'm now going to plough through my to do list. Again, I'm being the Queen of Procrastination right now and this is clearly work avoidance or fear. I've got a tendency to avoid things I find tough or I don't like doing and this may have contributed to my latest list of anxieties. OK...time to go and act. Sitting on my arse isn't helping anyone here.
Monday, 21 February 2011
Sunday is the new Saturday
It seems that I'm waking up from the stupor like the 'Sleeping Beauty'. Though without the handsome prince and with the support of friends. I was dreading waking up as I was wondering would it be another day of nothingness and fatigue. But no, began to feel actually quite good. A friend from work came to help me with the market run and it was good to be back on track. Doing things that I like buying vegetables and planning exciting vegan food though with help. I'm still not comfortable with that though and can't wait to be independent once more.
Andrew wanted to see me which was great. We talked and caught up and we assessed me at being around 60 percent which again is progress though a little slow. I'm getting more relaxed with the idea that it's not going be overnight. Queer beers beckoned...well it was a sunny sunday afternoon and we were both pretty thirsty. I wasn't entirely convicned this was a good idea, in fact it was probably bloody stupid but hey ho...get me on a good day and I crave my normal life back and with immediate effect.
The afternoon passed in drunkeness, laughter and conversation. God, it was good to be back again. I felt guilty like I'm ill but sometimes I find there's nothing wrong as long as it made me feel better. More drinks and then hunger so Andrew suggested we went to his to cook dinner and have a nice glass of red. Interpreted loosley of course.
I took control in the kitchen to prepare a chilli and was drinking wine. It was weird to think that only one month ago, I was there unable to do a thing other than be waited on hand and foot and sleep. And now, here I was. It felt great and like there was a real acheievement. Andrew and I also went to the market together. Again, another mile stone and comparison. The local market was where I took my maiden voyage with Debbie only to be overwhelmed and now here I was drunk, happy and stronger. It was great to see Debbie and for her to see me better.
After some lovely food, copious wine, forced exposure to Ricky Martin and Enrique Juglesis, we settled to watch 'Caberet' though I was far too drunk to follow and passed out. Unceremoniously. On his couch. I hope to god I wasn't snoring or sleeptalking. I woke up and got myself out and took a taxi home.
A huge leap here...again, drinking lots isn't something I would necessarily advocate as a sign of recovery or getting better. I also thought that this period may curtail the partying a bit but all is good that I'm slowly returning to a normal life. Whatever that it.
I woke up Monday morning..hungover and tired. Not in the best way but certainly not horrendous. I do feel guilty that I went out drinking when I should be convelescing but I could debate this ad infinitum. So, I'll stay positive and think that the steps I made yesterday and all on a sunday afternoon.
Andrew wanted to see me which was great. We talked and caught up and we assessed me at being around 60 percent which again is progress though a little slow. I'm getting more relaxed with the idea that it's not going be overnight. Queer beers beckoned...well it was a sunny sunday afternoon and we were both pretty thirsty. I wasn't entirely convicned this was a good idea, in fact it was probably bloody stupid but hey ho...get me on a good day and I crave my normal life back and with immediate effect.
The afternoon passed in drunkeness, laughter and conversation. God, it was good to be back again. I felt guilty like I'm ill but sometimes I find there's nothing wrong as long as it made me feel better. More drinks and then hunger so Andrew suggested we went to his to cook dinner and have a nice glass of red. Interpreted loosley of course.
I took control in the kitchen to prepare a chilli and was drinking wine. It was weird to think that only one month ago, I was there unable to do a thing other than be waited on hand and foot and sleep. And now, here I was. It felt great and like there was a real acheievement. Andrew and I also went to the market together. Again, another mile stone and comparison. The local market was where I took my maiden voyage with Debbie only to be overwhelmed and now here I was drunk, happy and stronger. It was great to see Debbie and for her to see me better.
After some lovely food, copious wine, forced exposure to Ricky Martin and Enrique Juglesis, we settled to watch 'Caberet' though I was far too drunk to follow and passed out. Unceremoniously. On his couch. I hope to god I wasn't snoring or sleeptalking. I woke up and got myself out and took a taxi home.
A huge leap here...again, drinking lots isn't something I would necessarily advocate as a sign of recovery or getting better. I also thought that this period may curtail the partying a bit but all is good that I'm slowly returning to a normal life. Whatever that it.
I woke up Monday morning..hungover and tired. Not in the best way but certainly not horrendous. I do feel guilty that I went out drinking when I should be convelescing but I could debate this ad infinitum. So, I'll stay positive and think that the steps I made yesterday and all on a sunday afternoon.
Saturday, 19 February 2011
In between days..
This anaemia and post hysterectomy recovery is a bit of a bugger. One minute I'm back to me (whoever that is) and then the slug which can only move as far as the couch. It's making plans for the weekend, the day or even the next day a little bit challenging to say the least.
Last night, I crashed on the couch and even had a snooze. I forgot all ideas about making any kind of plans for the evening. Charlotte returned with a perceieved disastrous haircut which made her look like a gay man though I quite liked it. It seems that the only remedy for a bad hairdresser's experience is alcohol so off she went to buy wine and I did a cooking experiment, vegan mac and cheese, apparently the best ever. I needed to see what the score was and indeed if it was despite mac and cheese being a US concept. Actually, it was lovely. Charlotte liked it too and I'm happy to one who can veganise things.
We were talking, eating and drinking though I was still fuzzy and my phone rang. Andrew. Either he needed a drink ( a queer beer) or there was some crisis bubbling. It was a crisis. Him and his BF had broken up and he needed to meet up. Really, I was shattered and going to Zona Rosa for one was against my better judgement but he needed a friend and he's been ever so supportive with me. We met and he talked. He welcomed the opportunity to let off steam and relax. I was happy to be there and support him. He tried to persuade me to go to Living but that would've been way too ambitious.
I slept and slept and slept and woke up feeling not too bad. In fact quite good and ready to do something. Having Charlotte around helped but also it meant that I couldn't slob out comfortably. Maybe, it's a good thing to have someone around to stop me retreating into myself?
She wanted to see El Chopo Market and I was quite keen to get back to one of my favourite places in the city. It's an alternative market for all subcultures and one of my favourite people watching spots. Of course, it's of a similiar ilk to Camden Market, Afflecks Palace and Amerika Mura but with different ethnic groups. The clothing remains more or less the same but it's refreshing to be surrounded with others with piercings and tattoos. Now, I remembered exactly why I was reluctant to go to El Chopo. It's crowded and without sounding anti Mexican here, as a sweeping generalisation, a lot of people lack spatial awareness. They tend to bump into others or just stop randomly. Really annoying at the best of times. Today, I noticed it more than usual and also I was getting irritable with others. I put it down to exhaustion and anaemia and again..a small thing can be overdoing it.
I returned home and was ready to rest. Charlotte took some photos for her project of me which were lovely but I was dropping off and it showed. As always, I wanted to retreat into myself. Was a good idea to keep on this thought or feeling? Or maybe I need it right now. There was also another interesting idea from Charlotte relating to adoption. Adoptees apologise a lot for their own existence. They hate to be an imposition and ask for help. Once more, things fell into place. In some ways, I'm happy I can blame this on an incident of which I had no control.
For a recovering person, I have options for a night out. Not bad going really. The straight edge musician has a concert tonight. I really wouldn't mind going but issues like distance and lots of people are pretty daunting right now. I know that one friend might be there. But then again. I like to go to these events to meet people and right now, I don't have the energy to talk to good friends. Zoe's called and has invited me round for dinner. Right now to play safe seem the better option both physically and emotionally. Charlotte is at the airport trying to change her ticket. Once more, decision making is hard to do and right now is even more challenging with this exhaustion.
Fingers crossed that normal serivce will be resumed soon.
Last night, I crashed on the couch and even had a snooze. I forgot all ideas about making any kind of plans for the evening. Charlotte returned with a perceieved disastrous haircut which made her look like a gay man though I quite liked it. It seems that the only remedy for a bad hairdresser's experience is alcohol so off she went to buy wine and I did a cooking experiment, vegan mac and cheese, apparently the best ever. I needed to see what the score was and indeed if it was despite mac and cheese being a US concept. Actually, it was lovely. Charlotte liked it too and I'm happy to one who can veganise things.
We were talking, eating and drinking though I was still fuzzy and my phone rang. Andrew. Either he needed a drink ( a queer beer) or there was some crisis bubbling. It was a crisis. Him and his BF had broken up and he needed to meet up. Really, I was shattered and going to Zona Rosa for one was against my better judgement but he needed a friend and he's been ever so supportive with me. We met and he talked. He welcomed the opportunity to let off steam and relax. I was happy to be there and support him. He tried to persuade me to go to Living but that would've been way too ambitious.
I slept and slept and slept and woke up feeling not too bad. In fact quite good and ready to do something. Having Charlotte around helped but also it meant that I couldn't slob out comfortably. Maybe, it's a good thing to have someone around to stop me retreating into myself?
She wanted to see El Chopo Market and I was quite keen to get back to one of my favourite places in the city. It's an alternative market for all subcultures and one of my favourite people watching spots. Of course, it's of a similiar ilk to Camden Market, Afflecks Palace and Amerika Mura but with different ethnic groups. The clothing remains more or less the same but it's refreshing to be surrounded with others with piercings and tattoos. Now, I remembered exactly why I was reluctant to go to El Chopo. It's crowded and without sounding anti Mexican here, as a sweeping generalisation, a lot of people lack spatial awareness. They tend to bump into others or just stop randomly. Really annoying at the best of times. Today, I noticed it more than usual and also I was getting irritable with others. I put it down to exhaustion and anaemia and again..a small thing can be overdoing it.
I returned home and was ready to rest. Charlotte took some photos for her project of me which were lovely but I was dropping off and it showed. As always, I wanted to retreat into myself. Was a good idea to keep on this thought or feeling? Or maybe I need it right now. There was also another interesting idea from Charlotte relating to adoption. Adoptees apologise a lot for their own existence. They hate to be an imposition and ask for help. Once more, things fell into place. In some ways, I'm happy I can blame this on an incident of which I had no control.
For a recovering person, I have options for a night out. Not bad going really. The straight edge musician has a concert tonight. I really wouldn't mind going but issues like distance and lots of people are pretty daunting right now. I know that one friend might be there. But then again. I like to go to these events to meet people and right now, I don't have the energy to talk to good friends. Zoe's called and has invited me round for dinner. Right now to play safe seem the better option both physically and emotionally. Charlotte is at the airport trying to change her ticket. Once more, decision making is hard to do and right now is even more challenging with this exhaustion.
Fingers crossed that normal serivce will be resumed soon.
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