Mr. Blitch is working an early morning bookkeeping shift for 7 straight days. Up at o3:OO, out of the house by o3:30, into the vault by o4:OO.
Yesterday (Saturday), I woke up when he left the house. Once awake, the hamster wheel that resides in my brain sprang to life.
There must be some residual from my 12-hour noc shift nursing days that enables me to snap from peaceful slumber to stone-cold awake & alert. And once there, not so easy to return.
I decided to make the most of it, and get in some Oncology Nursing Certification studying. Quiet house, deadlines always looming: seize the moment.
Half the day passed by. I ventured into the kitchen, down to the laundry area to stretch my legs and throw in a towel load. I became acutely, uncomfortably, twitchily, aware of the dog hair swirling around my feet. Our kitchen, the Bane of My Fucking Existence, had dirty dishes piled up over every minimal square inch of counter space.
An irrational, yet too-familiar, rage started creeping up from deep within.
Did I mention I’m on steroids? Crohn’s? No. Well, not directly.
I’ve had an earache for about 2 months. I’ve been to see my PCP twice now for it. We’ve tried antibiotics, nasal sprays, allergy medicine, the gamut. Now we’re trying steroids. It’s not helping. I even have *real* Sudafed. (Sudafed is only available by prescription in the state of Oregon. Thank you very much, Central Oregon Meth Labs. Way to ruin Over-the-counter decongestants for the rest of us.)
A fun fact about Crohn’s disease, is that some of us can develop Ear-Nose-Throat manifestations in tandem with our usual GI inflammation.
Ear pain, steroids, fatigue, stress. It can become a fairly speedy road to rage.
Text to my friend, M: “Do you ever have thoughts about moving out of your home? (Asking For A Friend)”
M, back to me: “I think maybe you’ve been studying too long and need a break. Why don’t you come over and we’ll go for a walk?”
Still in the possession of a modicum of sense, I was able to recognize M’s offer as a Beacon of Sanity, and drove straight to her home.
On the short drive, my mind started cycling again with unfinished blog fodder.
I dictated the following to my phone, and the phone actually got it mostly right:
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