Patient’s Log: All Stuffed Up
I’m all stuffed up.
We’ve had a couple of pleasant days here, but they were deceptively pleasant. I’m paying for having the windows open with non-stop sneezing and a raging sinus headache so intense my teeth hurt. It’s hard to be positive when the things you want to celebrate hurt you.
Nevertheless.
Hold up. Dan just brought me an ice pack to put on my face.
Ahhh.
Oliver has a new nickname in addition to Oliver Wendell Homeslice. It’s Coach. Because he busts through the bathroom door when I’m on the toilet and screams at me. I appreciate the pep talk, but so far it hasn’t helped my IBS-C flares.
Gratuitous photos of the cute, but ineffective, little jerk.
I’m currently struggling with not worrying about Dan and had to have the “I need to know you’ll be okay,” talk. Not because I feel the end is near, but because my superpower is obsessing over what ifs. I have been feeling like a ginormous burden lately, no doubt fueled by the US system of “heath care” in all its overpriced glory.
Something in me thinks things would feel manageable again if I could keep the anxiety down to a dull roar, but every time I think I have something sorted, a new thing surfaces. Today it’s a cyst on the skin near my sternum. This has appeared before, but the difference is I could deal with the weird post-chemo skin stuff back then. Now I can’t tuck my chin far enough to see it.
Skin lesions are Dan’s specialty though, so at least I don’t feel like I have to worry about another trip to the doctor.
Oh, also I bought some stuff for swimmer’s ear, and I just want to say there’s a special place in hell for manufacturers who don’t put tabs on foil seals and then have the nerve to put a paper layer on top that tears away leaving absolutely nothing to grip.
Lookin’ at you, Equate brand Ear Drops for Swimmers.
While I’m complaining: I got this remote holder from Amazon. The picture shows it holding three remotes but it only holds two of mine. Naturally I need it to hold a TV remote, a Roku remote, and my adjustable bed remote.
“But Emily,” I hear you saying, “didn’t you test how many remotes it would hold before you stuck it to the nightstand?”
No. No I did not.
Save yourselves, friends.