{Sigh} I have gone and done it to myself.
This crash started about on Thursday when the heat wave began. It was a stressful week. The old aching from my toes to my head crept back with a vengence. I ignored it, and ran out of my thyroid meds on Thursday. I skipped Friday's dose and told myself I'd get around to refilling the prescription at the pharmacy up the street. I mean, come on, I have been doing so well...
I suffer from my own pride of still not fully admitting that I must take extreme good care of myself. I am not able to treat my life, and my body like I once did. It has a mind of its own and brings me to my knees when I disobey.
When the nights are miserable and I am in severe pain caused by exhaustion and no recovery, depression settles in as I realize I am still fighting this dreaded thyroid condition.
I went to the pharmacy after my third nap today, and took the pills right at the counter. My throat hurts terribly where my thyroid is located and it is difficult to swallow. Now I must rest and try to recover, with lots of water, vitamins and soup.
Sunday I am suppose to help McYummy start his own blog and we were going to discuss the next step in my book...a whole day of artistic creating. Now, all I feel like doing is sleeping. It is times like this I wish I had an older relative on a ranch that could invite me out to stay a piece. I'd rest, walk among the fields, write and be taken care of.
But alas, I do not. Ebet usually does this for me, but I have not been able to make the trip to Folsom. There is no way I could handle driving myself the three hours to get to her now. She is also dealing with her own troubles at this time, and I would be in the way.
These are the times I do miss living with a man, one who could run things so I could take a break. Although many of my friends complain that their men never take care of them when they are sick and the house just falls apart. I think often men do more than we realize, they just don't do it "our way" so we don't give them their proper due.
I did manage a birthday dinner for my mother Friday evening. SHe told me it looked like I had one shoulder lower than the other. HUH? Why do mothers do this to their daughters? Why not just tell me my ass is sagging? She did point out the bruises on my legs. I think she forgets I am raising a boy, and I tackle a large garden. My thoughts were "I AM EXHAUSTED - CAN"T YOU SEE??" but I didn't express them. I just continued preparing the trout with my hump shoulder, sagging ass and bruises...
Thank god for the men who tell me I am pretty - including my son. Yes people, I have asked my mother many times to stop, but she does not. I can't be perfect, so I stopped trying a long time ago. My mother forgets I gave up that quest.
I have taken three Alleve, a Sominex and a large glass of water ... hopefully I can now retire and get some sleep in the hopes I can recover enough to see McYummy and take another step forward to my dreams.
I'll try counting hump shouldered sheep...
C
