It's Friday today. I thought perhaps I'd let you know because until half an hour ago - which would be half eight in the evening - I thought it was Wednesday. Where? Where did my week go? I know I have spent a lot of time in bed but if I had been unconscious for really long solid periods of time, I would probably remember that - in so far as I'd remember waking up and noting that I'd been asleep all day.
The symptoms of my cold have largely passed and I have mastered seven finger typing, although my burn doesn't appear to healing too fast. It's now a full two weeks since it happened and it is still extremely gruesome, still... oozing! It hasn't gone green though. See, I remember a little from my days in St. John's Ambulance Brigade and I know that if a wound goes bright green, that isn't a good sign. Especially if it starts flashing. And playing the theme from Doctor Who.
Meanwhile, pain is a good sign with a burn because it means you have exposed the nerve-endings, as opposed to having singed them. I know; could have been a doctor, me.
I sometimes wonder whether chronic ill health actually makes a person more likely to be preoccupied by things like this, having a greater sense of one's own fragility and let's face it, having more time on one's hands to let these things fester (in the mind, I mean; a wound will fester at a similar rate whether or not you are keeping busy, I should imagine). Or whether the experience of chronic illness makes a person more blasé about minor health concerns which could possibly be more serious than they seem, because you've had so much go wrong and survived it so far. Of course, what I am really wondering about is whether chronic ill health makes me more inclined towards hyochondria, or whether it contributes to a stiffening of my upper lip. And whether I ought to dismiss my own anxieties or take them seriously.
I think chronic illness probably merely complicates the matter. And that's way too complicated for a Friday evening which ought to have been a Wednesday, so I'm going back to bed.
5 comments:
I think it goes both ways.
The things that are part of the illness, I get quite blase (forgive the absence of accent) about. If I fall over, bouncing off the furniture as I go, crack my head on the floor and can't open my eyes properly afterwards, I find myself reassuring people (even if it's in a slightly slurred tone) that no, I'm fine, this happens all the time, no, put the phone down, I don't need an ambulance, just please turn off the light, and if it's not too much trouble a glass of water would be nice...
But I think stuff that isn't every single day does bother me more. Perhaps it's because at the onset of my illness I was all "it's only a tummy bug/a dose of flu/a bit of tonsillitis/etc, I'll get a taxi instead of walking to work, I'll get on with things, I'll be better in a couple of weeks" and there's a certain sense of oh, look where that got me, perhaps I should have taken things more seriously...
I also get very worried when a family member gets a bad cold. Rationally I KNOW it's just a bad cold. However that's not enough to stop me offering to share my supply of blankets and hot water bottles and extracting promises that if it carries on/gets much worse they *will* call a doctor.
Ooohhh, another Johnny! I'm still involved even though obviously I can't go out on duties any more - I run the cadets and do other bits and pieces.
Wish you better x
I hope that you get to feeling better soon!!
and thank you for the comment.. I appreciate your kind words.
Welcome to NZ
I am sure I for one would not find substantial compensation for such demaning!
Rocky Spring
Compo would be demeaning for some - Cullen
29/06/2007 5:36:12
Mental health providers say the incidents described in a report into psychiatric institutions before 1992 should never be forgotten, but it is time to move on.
A report by principal Family Court judge Patrick Mahony outlines the testimonial of around 500 people who were in state-run institutions from the 1940s until 1992. Patients described rape and sexual abuse, being forced to sleep in crowded dormitories, spending the day in smoke filled rooms infested with rats and cockroaches and of being lined up naked to be hosed down before being forced into cold showers and baths. Pregnant women were given shock treatment which put their babies at risk. One patient said if they complained they were told no one would believe them.
Judy Clements, chief executive of the Mental Health Foundation, says some of the former patients are scarred for life by their experiences and while some will find relief through therapy, most will suffer with the memories forever. She says it is important that New Zealand never goes back to an institutional arrangement.
Attorney-General Michael Cullen says the Government will consider how to address the abuses. He says compensation would be demeaning for some former patients.
http://www.newstalkzb.co.nz/newsdetail1.asp?storyID=119980
I liked this post as I could relate to the life experience: "It's Friday...are you sure? Okay, then what month is it?"
I think chonic illness makes you more and less aware - often things which other people find VERY worrying are so typical you almost ignore them, while some atypical becomes of instant concern.
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