I'm going to go ahead and send it anyway. Cos it seems ok to me, and people might be disappointed otherwise. Just have to get my butt in gear and actually get it packaged up and go to the post office...
(Will hopefully post more on my poor neglected blog soon. Just been busy elsewhere.. I'm going to a wedding on Saturday, so I'm sure I'll post pics from that...)
This sucks. I have an etsy friend I intended to send a little care package of typically British fare, in the form of an assortment of chocolate bars. However, I have come into difficulties with new licensing laws which stop the import of any foodstuff in to the USA without proper a proper license. Pants :-(
Now I shall have to come up with something else that is typically British, but not food. Any thoughts?
Edited: Now wait just a second, we may have found some legislation that makes it ok after all....
I've just been reading a small article in one of the bits of today's Times. Entitled "We've lost that loving feeling" it quotes stats (as collected by a survey of 2,000 people, by Andrex) suggesting that people in general just don't hug. It claims that 65% of people try to avoid hugging where possible. 55% of people give two hugs a week. Only 17% of people love hugging and give too many to count.
I definitely fall into the last category. I love love love hugs. Hugs make me feel loved, needed, special. Hugs connect you with a person more than words alone, or a quick handshake can do. Hugs break down barriers. Hugs can warm you up when you're cold, comfort you when you're upset, convey love, hope, and joy.
Me, I'm all about the hugs. And I ain't gonna change. Whatever else the rest of the world thinks about them.
Behold, I present myself (with skanky hair, sorry!) wearing my most recently aquired birthday present. Oh I love it when birthdays get to last a looooong time, and I love blest, who sent me this one. It was definitely worth the wait :-)
(and if you're as impressed as I am, check out more of her work here. Even better, she has a sale in her shop, which I believe is ending today, so check out this section in particular )
Today I've been wearing my purple crocs. I'd take a picture of my feet in them, but my camera and computer aren't feeling friendly today. Which is why you're getting random thoughts instead of fun pictures of me and the kids playing at the park with my friend Jenny. I like them (the crocs, not the kids) because they are purple, and because I actually managed to find a pair that fit when I was in Tx, and having found them obviously had to buy them too!
This morning in the doctor's waiting room I was reading 'Mother and Baby' magazine. I will freely admit that if I had to pick one magazine out of all the magazines in the world, and I would only ever be allowed to read that, ever after, then Mother and Baby magazine would be that magazine. I think I got addicted when I discovered that they had a subscription in my school library. I was doing a 'child development' GCSE, which must have been the easiest GCSE for me ever, and thought they'd be good to read, and even though my friends scoffed, I enjoyed whiling away my spare time in there! I think I am just a sponge when it comes to things to do with babies or pregnancy or children or anything that's associated with those things. Ok, so I've never actually had a baby of my own, or even been pregnant, but, I'd like to think that I'm getting prepared for the 'one day' that I do ;-) Besides, I just find the magazine really really interesting. I've even been known to buy a copy of it for myself, just for fun. Who needs OK magazine or anything like that, when you can have Mother & Baby?! (Just to clarify, I'm under no illusions that reading a magazine or even looking after other people kids can prepare you for what being a Mum is actually like, but it's a step in the right direction, right?!)
This afternoon (hmm, well it was before I had lunch, but after noon) I spent some time hacking at the tree/bush thing that is growing in our front garden. It's totally out of control and drives me crazy, so I decided, on the spur of the moment, to do something about it. So I did. And now my arms are really sore and itchy, but the garden looks a bit better!
The doctor gave me a steroid injection this morning, which will hopefully help to control my hayfever a little better. Because at the moment it's out of control, and my poor nose is getting sore with all the blowing!
Finally, and stop reading if you don't like TMI, but the doctor I saw yesterday at the hospital thought that there's a possibility that I may have another chest infection, so he's got me to give a sputum sample, so that they can check for infection, and if there is an infection, actually give me 'type-specific' antibiotics, rather than constantly throwing more broad spectrum ones into my body in the vain hope that they'll do something.
I finally remembered the name of the swelling that they think I have. Every time a doctor says it I think, yeah, that's what the last one said, but it never 'sticks' somehow! However, with some intensive googling, I found it. (see above) See here for a wikipedia link
Yesterday I went out to my friend Angela's hen party. It was a great evening, and I had fun. Today I'm feeling really tired and fragile, and life is just feeling hard. But I'll keep living it all the same.
*Sorry, meant to include trans-Atlantic translation, but I forgot. Hen party = bachelorette party. Stag party = bachelor party. Basically, the parties the bride and groom have with their friends a week or so before they get married. Make sense?
Well, as it stands, my chest is clear at the moment, and I'm not wheezy, so the doctor I saw wants me to go back on the diclofenac. (which is what i've been taking for a week).
Cos i'm an asthmatic, we really don't have many choices. Ibuprofen and co-codamol do definitely make me wheeze, whereas at the moment the diclofenac is not making me wheeze. It's causing general tenderness, and weight gain and feeling like i've been hit all over with a big stick, but it's about the only thing that's going to deal with the underlying cause of the pain - which is the swelling.
The doc reckons that the breathing issues I've been having aren't so much the asthma, as the fact that the swelling is pressing on my lungs and making it harder to breathe.
He wants me to take the diclofenac (which is a 3 times after meals job) and add in 2 paracetamol 4 times a day. And to go back and see my doctor soon. Well I've already got an appoinment for Monday, so that's easy enough to do. He said also to make sure that they do blood tests/check the bloodwork from last week and look at thyroid and blood sugar stuff, to check whether there's anything else causing underlying problems.
And that's it really. Keep taking the meds and hope they work. Put up with feeling like I've been beaten with a big stick all over, and see what my doc says on monday.
It's 1.45pm, and I've been up for just over 2 hours. Before you all start exclaiming about that, I only stayed in bed until 11.30am cos I didn't actually get to sleep until 4am. In the last couple of hours I feel like I've felt up and down and good and bad, and all sorts of different things, but now I just feel sore and in pain, and fragile, and like I'm about to cry.
The alternative anti-inflammatory drugs I've been taking have now been officially added to the "I am allergic to this drug" list. They've made me wheezy, coughy, swollen and sore, and also apparently put on a stone (14lb) in the space of a few days. I haven't taken them since Wednesday evening, and a couple of pounds have come off again, so hopefully it's not a long-term weight gain.
I'm just fed up of being ill. Fed up of not knowing how I'm gonna feel tomorrow. I've almost given up hope that there will be a day that I'll wake up and be better. For a couple of days the meds actually gave me relief from pain, and I actually thought things were looking up. Then my body realised what I was taking, and rebelled, and now I'm left struggling with breathing, and in worse pain that I was in before. I just can't take being ill anymore. It's too hard.
UPDATE: I tried to get an appointment to see my doctor, or any doctor today, but even though I begger they weren't having any of it. Now my friend Rach has suggested I take myself off to A&E instead. I'm wating for another 20mins before my mum gets off work, so i can ring her and see what she thinks. Cos I can't even make that decision for myself right now.
UPDATED UPDATE: My Mum is on her way home, and then we're heading to the hospital. She told me to ring the docs again, and see if there was any chance I could speak to a doctor on the phone. The receptionist I spoke to was lovely, and basically said that given what you've told me, I'd rather you do to the hospital and get seen to where they've got the good drugs ;-) than faff around here waiting for a doctor to call you, who probably won't be able to do anything anyway.
... that this sweet girl is now walking. It feels like no time at all since she was born, and that was last April!I guess I'm gonna have to get used to taking pictures like this one..Finally, here's me. Just because. Posing, you say? Well, maybe, but if HP would've hurried up and taken the picture...
The doorbell rang a few minutes ago, and it was a delivery of a big bunch of flowers for ME! I don't think I've ever had a bunch of flowers delivered to my front door like that. I've been ill for pretty much the last four months straight, and it's really getting me down. The flowers were from a family at my church, whose children I looked after a few days a week for much of last year, and came with a lovely message of love, wishing me better. I may be in pain, struggling to breathe, and have had too little sleep, but those flowers totally just made my day. They reminded me that people out there love me, and it's worth fighting to get through another day.
Well, I did just do 45 mins on my treadmill, and the endorphins are still merrily flowing through me. It was the first time I'd been on it in about 3 weeks, becasue I've just been so tired and lacking in energy. But I decided that actually I'd feel better for some exercise, got on for 15 mins, and stayed on for 45!
Monday and Tuesday this week could be summed up in a couple of words. Pain, sleepiness, and lots of eating. I think the eating was mostly cos I thought I was feeling hungry, but then realised it wasn't hunger I was feeling, more an emptiness inside cos I was missing something.
I heard on Monday, from the garage that was holding my car (and not officially from my insurance company - I only got that letter today!) that it was being written off. I actually cried when I heard the news. I also cried when I caught a bit of this Westlife video as I flicked through the TV channels, and when I read this blog post, so I guess I was just feeling really fragile. I mean, come on, crying at WESTLIFE?! That's just wrong.
I arranged with the garage in Cambridge to go and pick up my car on Wednesday. I was just about to leave to drive to Cambridge and I suddenly freaked out. I couldn't breathe properly, I couldn't think straight. My back and neck went really tense, and I just couldn't cope. And then (and it's ok if you laugh, cos I've laughed about it since!) I caught sight of my little fingers and freaked all over again. I guess that they must be thinner with all my weight loss, but all of a sudden I was convinced that they looked too thin and too tiny and was sure that they were going to snap off any second.
I managed to calm myself down a bit, and then literally talked myself step by step to Cambridge. I just said to myself, all you have to do is walk to your car and get in it, and then when I'd done that I just had to drive to the end of the road... to the A406... onto the Motorway... to the next junction, all the way to Cambridge.
I have driven since the accident, so I think that freaking out was because I would have to drive along the road where I had the accident. As I drove around that roundabout I caught sight of where I ended up on the grass verge, and I just thanked God. Because if we'd hit the kerb with even a little bit more force, we wouldn't have stopped on the grass, we'd have ended up in the ditch beyond, and it all could have been a different story. I thank God for keeping up safe.
I drove to Bekki's and then she came with me to the garage to pick up my stuff out of the car and say goodbye to my car. I took some last few photos of it, and then we went for out for lunch. (Bekki and I, not the car ;-) )
On Thursday I had another mini freak-out. It was while I was waiting for the guys to arrive with my hire car, and I think partly just because I didn't have control over what time it would be arriving, and cos it was a totally new situation to me. I couldn't breathe and my back went all tense again. I calmed myself down, by praying and talking to myself, and luckily the car arrived not long after, and it was all fine.
It just seems like I can't deal with anything to do with the car situation at the moment. Letters and forms to fill in did finally arrive from my insurance company today, but I didn't look at them for too long, because it was all just too much information to take it, and I didn't want to have another freak out!
Or rather, this would be an ode to my car if I were any good at writing odes. What is an ode exactly, anyway?!
Goodbye my little purple car. I'll miss you :-(
These guys tried hard to get us back on the road, but even with the spare put on instead it wasn't fit to go anywhere. Now all I have to do it work out how to explain to the Little One why I've been driving Elly's Car and why we can't go in Debbie's Car anymore.