So I fought the cold, and the cold won. It is now bronchitis, settled into my lungs. I am coughing up all kinds of nastiness, and I have no voice to speak of. Add in fibro's friend costochondritis, and I am a sad and miserable zombiekitten.
I did everything I could to rest this weekend. I did not leave the house. I slept about 12 hours a day. I stayed hydrated. All I can say is phooey. I just called off work. This means that I will not get paid for today, and we really need the money. But I interact with students (clients/customers where I work) and I can't talk so I had to stay home. There will be a period of time where the office will have no coverage because I am not there, but I still know I had to take today. Why am I afraid of negative consequences? I don't know, but I am.
I'm going to banish any thoughts of guilt--I'm doing my best, and I don't think it would reflect well on the office if I tried to work today. I'm going to rest--drink lots of fluid, take naps, take cough medicine, and the world will keep turning. And tomorrow will come with its own challenges.
For some reason, I really miss Mom today. She's been gone a long time, but I want a mom. I want someone to take care of me for a bit, and give me a mom hug.
Good news: The nurse practitioner was very nice.Bad news: I *had* a small cyst. It's gone. Problem is, the swelling from it has compressed all the skin/hair pores/follicles around it and they're now full of yuck and soreness and gross.Good news: Topical meds only needed.Bad news: I may as well give up wearing pants. Sreiously. The prescription is "warm saline compresses six times a day for three...
yesterday I saw the counsellor and it hit me like a ton of bricks that I definitely am a victim of my family with a generational dysfunctional disorder. To keep my resolve about my decision to go no contact I've had to remind myself why often and the thing that bothers me most is that I knew it sucked sometimes but it felt normal for so many years. Wiping my hands of them feels like I wiped...