Category: being sick

No Substitute for Sense

As I’ve been fighting the demon of lactose intolerance, lately I’ve been sampling several different milk alternatives.

Soy, hemp, almond, grain, etc. All of ’em.

The one thing they have in common in the strongly worded admonition on the side of the container that the product shouldn’t be used as a substitute for baby formula.

All because of that one couple who fed only soy milk and apple juice to their baby, and the baby died.

So I’d been thinking about just this very topic recently when lo and behold, my friend NewMexiKen posted this today (from a 1956 Life Magazine):



Via The Consumerist, click image for full story.


From the ad copy: “For a fact, you can even give this sparkling drink to babies—and without any qualms. Lots of mothers do just that!”

Faboo! Sort of reminds me of the old family scrapbook I have where my grandparents wrote down the formula to feed their first baby. The recipe is Karo syrup and milk. My Aunt turned out fine, so I guess it was ok.


My Bounceback Done Gone

First of all…I’m glad to be back on the interwebs. The hotel where I’m staying this week is supposed to have free WiFI, and in the past, it’s always been great, allowing me to surf and do email with ease.

During this week it’s been dog slow. At one point it took a half hour for a page to load. For three days I’ve been begging someone to restart the router on my floor and this netted me many a blank stare from the hotel staff.

They finally gave me a tech support number and the nice tech support guy in another country diagnosed my technical issues. And then he restarted the router. Sheesh!

Aaaaaanyhow….

Along with interweb woes, I’ve been living it up a little on the road food. (see my abject joy of Sonic post).

Lately (meaning, prior to this trip) I’ve been trying to eat small meals several times a day. Good small meals with lots of lean protein and less sugar along with going easy on the dairy, and no gluten.

God I’m getting old. Look at that paragraph above. Sheesh.

But…when I do all of that and throw in a little exercise, I feel pretty good. I sleep well. My brain is clear. I have energy.

Today, I had to endure a daylong training class. I did nothing more than sit on my rear all day. No exercise and boooooring. So to pass the time I poured milk in my coffee (bloat) and had a pastry from the oh too pretty plate of goodies (tummy gurgle) and ate a sizeable lunch on top (*burp*).

Now I’m all bloated up like Violet Beauregarde (the one who swelled up into a blueberry and had to be juiced) and wondering just what in the heck possessed me when I know better?

As I said to the good man via a whiny text message….”A few minutes of :) for several days of :( Ugh!”

Ugh, indeed.

It didn’t used to be like this. I used to be able to eat dairy and wheat and fats of all sorts of saturation with reckless abandon!

Where did it all go wrong?

I aged. That’s where it all went wrong. At 22 I could bounce back from a journey down cheesey tater tot lane in about a day. Now it takes me many days and some hard work and diligence just to come back to even.

*sigh*

Thus ends my whining for the day.

I know, I know…ya’ll went two days without a blog post for this? Hmph!

I’ll try harder tomorrow.




Tuesday (pronounced /tju:zdei)

…is a day of the week occurring after Monday and before Wednesday.

… it is the second day of the week, although in some traditions it is the third.

The name Tuesday derives from the Old English “Tiwesdæg” and literally means “Tiw’s Day”. Tiw is the Old English form of the Proto-Germanic god *Tîwaz, or Týr in Norse, a god of war and law.

In most languages with Latin origins (French, Spanish, Italian), the day is named after Mars, the Roman god of war.

Tuesday is the usual day for elections in the United States.

Shrove Tuesday (also called Mardi Gras – fat Tuesday) precedes the first day of Lent in the Western Christian calendar.
__________

Boy oh boy…that’s some good stuff about Tuesday, isn’t it? Tuesday. What a fascinating day. How cool to be Tuesday. How cool to live through a Tuesday.

I sure do like Tuesday.

Which is why I sure wish I could have actually had myself a Tuesday this week.

Oh, I mean, Tuesday happened, but I wasn’t in it.

Let me back up. First of all, on Tuesday, I was completely wiped out from my latest headcold (started on Sunday). This is the third such evil bug I’ve hosted in the past seven months (I remember when I used to brag that I *never* get sick. I smirk at that me that used to say that kind of sh**). By the second day of the week, this cold was in full bloom. Fever, headache, etc.

And, of course, as my colds do these days, this bug took up residence in my lungs.

*Cough, cough, cough….coughcoughcoughcoughcough*

Monday night, I filled up my water bottle as the ubiquitous “they” say to “stay hydrated” when you are sick.

Fine. So I filled up my metal bottle from our Brita pitcher, turned to place the half empty pitcher under the faucet, coughed, and threw my back out.

I immediately needed to lay down on the floor to see if I could stop the overwhelming desire to black out. Yes, it hurt like that.

Waking up Tuesday morning was a brand new adventure in pain. I couldn’t even stand up straight. Fun!

So Tuesday was a toss up for me. Was I more miserable because of my fever and endless snotty nose? Or was it the agony in my back?

No, you know what, I think what I enjoyed *most* of all was the relentless coughing which caused searing pain to radiate out from my back.

Yeah. That was fun.

So I spent all day on Tuesday not really on this planet. The day was pretty much me, hopped up on both pain and cold meds, flat on my back, legs up, trying to take pressure off my aching spine.

And lots and lots of kleenex.

So now I’m pissed. I want my Tuesday back. Without the misery.

Hello? Universe? Give me my twenty-four hours back!

Oh, and another thing, while I got you on the line, you and your evil friend Fate have really pulled me through the proverbial knothole these past few months.

Just to let you know, I’m ready for my reward now.

Karma does still work that way, right?





Source for all of the Tuesday facts.


Free Association, the headcold version

In my internet wanderings over the weekend, I stumbled across LunaNiña.com, and the weekly feature Unconscious Mutterings.

It’s simply a good old-fashioned bit of free association, used to learn something more about a (usually troubled) person.

So what the heck, I’m usually troubled, why not play along?

Here we go…

  1. Limited :: Yeah, that reminds me of that really great store in the mall from when I was a youth. I loved The Limited, used to buy all my clothes there. Is that place even open anymore? A quick Google search says yes. That’s so out of my demographic anymore…

  2. Zombie :: Braaiiiiiins! Braaaaaains! Or, what I looked like this morning with a face puffy from a headcold and a red, raw nose. Tiiiiisssue! Tiiiiisssue!

  3. Energy :: As in, I have none

  4. Proof :: Proof? You want proof? I don’t gotta prove nothing to no one!

  5. Hassle :: I’m saying! Don’t hassle me about proof. I’ll give you proof when I’m damn good and ready! (don’t mind me, it’s the fever talking)

  6. Peep :: Does anyone actually like and eat those marshmallow Peeps? They must, because the stores are filled to the ceilings full of those vibrant hued sticky blobs. Look, I love sugar as much as the next guy, but those things are gross. Give me a Cadbury egg any day of the week!

  7. Jogger :: Which is what I’ll need to become if I keep snarfing down the Cadbury treats.

  8. Hunt :: Where in the hell did I put the TV remote? I swear to god I think The Good Man took it. I’ll whup a knot on his head! Don’t make me hunt you down! Oh…there it is, under my left buttock. I can’t help it, I’m sick. : cue the pitiful music :

  9. Career :: I hope I still have one after being sick three times in seven months. My boss is very patient, but this morning he said “You are sick *again*?” Yeah…..

  10. Plants :: The plants are digging the sun. All the little leaves and buds are alive and kicking. Spring is springing up everywhere, I love it! Not that I can enjoy it today as I’m on the couch snuffling and feeling sorry for myself. : sad trombones :


Ok, ok…enough of that….. I seem to be stuck on a meme, and not a very good one.

Onward into the day. Waiter, I’ll take a bathtub full of Theraflu…nighttime flavor.

Oooh yeaah.

Today’s incoherent ramblings brought to you by:




Important Medical Tools *snicker*

Yesterday I had my annual physical with the doctor.

Unfortunately, the good doctor was detained by the patient in the room next door. The gent had experienced complications from drinking too much over the holidays, and in the follow-on checkup meeting wanted to (loudly) argue with his doctor about reducing his alcohol intake.

New Year’s resolutions and all that, I suppose.

Anyhoo…when you leave me in a tiny medical cubicle for over an hour wearing only a rear ventilated paper gown, I’m oh-so very much going to find ways to amuse myself.

Herewith, a photographic treasury from my appointment.

Once I’d gotten myself settled into my paper gown and black socks (a hot look, I can assure you) I shifted my heiney up onto the exam table, where I was instructed to wait.

The first thing my gaze fell upon was this:



That doesn’t…look, um, right. I mean, I live in a first world nation. What exactly are these barbaric tools doing just lying about?

And how exactly is the item on the left is incorporated into the items center and right?

Wait, don’t tell me. I’m not sure I want to know.

Yes, I know that one is a tuning fork to check my hearing and one is a reflex tester to whack at my knee. But do I really need to be lubed up for all that?!?

I felt…uncomfortable.

Which made me start to shiver like a Chihuahua in my little blue gown.

THEN my gaze landed here:



Um. Is that applied to the air? Or is that applied to me? I showered. I’m fresh as a daisy. Honest.

And then you have to think…in a medical facility…they probably get some odors you don’t want to know about.

So I *quickly* shifted my gaze.

Oh, look, there is a rack of brochures! Who doesn’t love a nice brochure?

Whoa. What’s this?



Is this a cautionary tale? Don’t get the piles, kids, or you’ll look like this guy!

Hemorrhoids make you a zombie!! *rooowwwrrrr*

That photo is so wrong. So, so wrong.

And the copy of a copy of a copy gives it such a backoffice, off-label, ‘roid whacking assembly line feeling that doesn’t make me love my current health care provider.

I quickly started digging in the cabinets to find another paper gown to put on backwards, just to cover stuff up. No luck, they must dole out those tiny gowns in the smallest possible increments.

“You know…I’m feeling *fine*…I am fit as a fiddle! I’m just going to go home now, mmmkay?”

If you see a lady sprinting down the road in a tattered blue paper gown and black socks, look away. I’m working out some issues.