icarus: Snape by mysterious artist (Default)
The car is still injured (okay, totaled), but I took my foot in to see the doctor. I would've loved to have removed it and left it overnight, but, I had to go in with it.

The doc told me that the numbness, cold, and tingling was due to inflammation pushing on the nerves and veins. "The hospital didn't give you any anti-inflammatories?"

"No."

They just told me to stay off of it.

"Okay...."

It seems I should've had anti-inflammatories all along. Then she gave her prescription:

"Don't baby it. Don't push it."

With a sprain, it's a balance. Keep it elevated when I can, but she says being too delicate with it could cause problems later down the line.

"Can I drive?" I asked her.

"Well, maybe not on 270. Try it in a parking lot first."

WHOOOOP! This is the opposite of what everyone's been telling me. Life just got so much simpler.

S. looked at my beaming face and said, "I have this image of having to tie you down."
icarus: Snape by mysterious artist (Default)
Time for the freekibblekat.com quiz. It's cute.

Then, a little practice, and off to work.

Up at 4am ... don't know what to do with myself. The leftover cough from the laryngitis won't go away and sleep schedule is, as usual, whacked.
icarus: Snape by mysterious artist (Default)
Finally. After two weeks of laryngitis, on Saturday my voice came out of my mouth.

I was so surprised! No rasp, only a little bit of wheeze, no struggle -- sound!

I've had another week of coughing, but today I've gone as long as forty minutes between coughs. And not all of them are throat-wracking, hacking coughs. They're getting lighter.

Wow. Soon I might not be sick at all.

*relieved* *pets the kitties, who have loved my being sick*
icarus: Snape by mysterious artist (Default)
Voice is slowly returning. I now sound like a life-long smoker, but I can speak.

Though after a few hours, my throat hurts.

By the way, Ricola with Echinacia and Fisherman's Friend are the only cough drops that work.

Just saying.
icarus: Snape by mysterious artist (Default)
*rasp, croak, hoarse whisper*

I can't afford to take any more time off work. Already my paycheck is going to be $200-300 short. Yet a week later, the laryngitis continues.

Oh, it gets better. Then I go to work and talk for four-to-six hours. Annnnnd then I can't talk again.

I'm cancelling all talky activities for the next two weeks. Except my (sigh...) very talky job.
icarus: Snape by mysterious artist (Default)
Home these last few days with what looks to be laryngitis. Monday and Tuesday I worked while I felt sick as a dog. Wednesday I started feeling better... and lost my voice.

It's actually a great combination. I feel (almost) normal, so I'm able to function, but I'm forced to take time off since I have to speak to teach.

Projects done:

- huge pile of laundry folded and away
- bathroom rug & toilet cover washed, and trimmed (cats claw it and make little picky-stringy picks)
- bathroom cleaned
- cleaned out fridge science projects
- fired up my new little teapot
- sliced up and dehydrated celery
- put beads in new beadbox (way too small for stash, so ordered covered baskets)
- purchased frames for a dozen altar photos; cleaned glass and now have grown-up altar with way too many pictures
- framed childhood photo of my brother and me as well
- purchased muslin for mock-up of Tibetan chuba dress and Nepali blouse for tailoring; cut out pattern; cut out blouse and chuba pieces
- purchased velvet remnant and lined inside of jewelry box

Still, this is going on a little too long. I have to teach on Saturday and Sunday, voice or no voice.

The cats, of course, are loving it. Full-time petting? It's like having a full-time masseuse.



ETA: But Rothy just got a 4" by 1/4" strip of fabric and I panicked and scared him, and he ran away, and by the time I caught up with him, he'd swallowed it. 0.0 I'm worried.
icarus: Snape by mysterious artist (Default)
My uncle: "Hey, did you hear about that astrology thing? That the astrology signs might be changing?"

Me, stumbling with large box with two lamps, still in my boots, snow on the floor: "Yeah, I think I read something about that."

My uncle: "Does this mean I'm not a Scorpio anymore?"

Me, picking up my Starbucks cocoa, hmm, wonder if it's still warm: "Mmm, no."

My uncle: "Because I don't want to be a Scorpio."

My aunt: "He wants to be something different."

Me, at the top of the stairs, turning back a little confused: "Then you're definitely a Scorpio, because they all want to be diiiif--!"

FWOOP! Bounce! Bump!

Me: "Ow."

Chocolate everywhere, my aunt and uncle come running. I'm flat on my back on the landing. And... I hurt. Took me a minute to realize that it wasn't (somehow) my uncle's fault, that I'd slipped on some snow.

Think my boss was warm and understanding about my not being at work today?

Of course not. While she's willing to give me a ride home in the worst weather, she's also the one who, when I told her I had pink eye (with twenty-four hours notice I wouldn't be in) said, "But what about my schedule!?" Then cut my hours the following week.
icarus: Snape by mysterious artist (Default)
That prickling needle-like pain tells me I failed in my aim to not get conjunctivitis in my right eye as well.

Arrgh. There goes my Big Bang fic.
icarus: Snape by mysterious artist (Default)
*everyone sing!*

I wear my sunglasses at night ...

...and in the living room.

Why, you guessed it. I have conjunctivitis! Otherwise known as the stick-sand-in-your-eye, glue-your-eyelids-together, film-your-eye-over-like-a-greasy-window, leak-tears-uncontrollably, and-make-it-throb-at-the-slightest-light-like-you've-been-punched eye infection.

My goal for today: avoid infecting the other eye.

As my eye cooperates (i.e. is blurry but doesn't throb like a low-level headache) I am writing little bits of my Big Bang.

On paper.

Yes. With a pen. (I'll explain what a pen is later, but historically it's the writing instrument that came between the quills you see in Harry Potter and the computer. It is harder to erase.)

You all know that Joe Flanigan is on Twitter (@JoeFlanigan) and he's been friended by Hewlett. The real deal. More: he has a movie he's filming in Ireland.

More Flan for us all!

Ahem. Almost enough to make up for not being able to see.
icarus: Snape by mysterious artist (Default)
And the hits keep coming. After having had a tree fall on the house, I now apparently have conjunctivitus (sp?).

Can't write, because the light from the compute hurts my eyes.

*sleeps it off*

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