What is Your Emergency?

 (I'm fine).

Monday was Family Day in Ontario, so schools were closed and I didn't have work, which is fortunate, because halfway through the day the queasiness I thought was a normal stomach bug escalated into screaming, crippling, unrelenting abdominal pain that my pharmacist sister said needed to be checked out. I couldn't stand up to get in the car so Matt called 911 and paramedics came. The 911 operator could hear me and asked if I had asthma and needed an inhaler and Matt said "um, she has an inhaler", and I said I just can't BREATHE because of the PAIN. I had managed to put on pajama pants and a t-shirt (rather than the pajama shorts and tank top I was wearing), tried to put on a bra but couldn't, and I realized how much pain I was in when I didn't manage to feel self-conscious about all the prodding and EKG stickering and shirt-lifting. My chief concern (beyond feeling like I was dying) was that they wouldn't be able to give me any pain meds while they didn't know what was going on. They did, though, give me fentanyl and morphine (which made me barf, they always do) which didn't kill the pain, but made it so I could form sentences.

The paramedics were funny, and thought I was funny, which clearly meant that they were very intelligent. The rookie asked me some questions and then looked me seriously in the face and said "how young are you?" and I said "oh, fuck off" and they laughed. One said "I heard your husband got it wrong on the call" and I said "yeah, but he went younger so he's good.". 

One guy apologized for investigating my bookshelves, and (between hyperventilating and snotting  prodigiously) I said I didn't fully trust anyone who didn't. He asked how Yellowface was. I told him I was done and he could take it, but he demurred, even though Matt said "no, she means it."

They described fentanyl and morphine and I acted like I had never heard of them (does everyone do that? I didn't know what to do, say "oh no, heavy painkillers and I go WAY back"?). They injected the fentanyl and asked me something and I answered in oddly specific detail and then said "oh, now I'm doing that thing where I'm talking as if I've just had a beer or two, like you said, is that what's happening?" and one laughed and said he felt like we should go out for actual beers some time. Then I barfed because I always do when I have IV painkillers, and that was less amusing.

I had some morphine and they started talking about extraction and I started giggling because it made me sound like a foreign asset. While they were loading me in the ambulance Eve tried to Facetime me and Matt answered and told her I just had a stomach bug and couldn't talk, and when she found out later she was like "oh my God, that makes it so much worse that I just kept talking" and "I guess he did sound a little weird, in retrospect." 

In the ambulance they said it looked like I was still in a high level of pain, so they gave me more morphine, which meant I barfed again, but managed not to pee myself at the same time, so I had that going for me. 

At the hospital we were parked in the hallway waiting for the triage nurse and being weird some more, and they took my blood pressure with the Life Pack again and then one of them (I only know one name, Trevor, and I don't know which one he was) said "imagine if we could just do all this by voice commands" and I said that sounded like the beginning of a Black Mirror episode, and then they ended up saying things like "Life Pack, you're my only friend" and "Sorry Life Pack, I only like you as a friend" and I said "have you guys been awake a really long time?" and they looked sheepish and said they had actually just started. I mean, no judgment, it's a tough job. They guessed that I was a teacher, and said school librarian was close enough. 

Anyway, I am fine now, just tired and crampy and headachey and still don't really know what was happening, but I haven't blogged in days and I just wanted to take a stab at making an ER visit funny. How did I do, out of 10? 

Five For Friday: The Amorphous Edition

1. I am just about to start on four-star books from last year. I have not done a New Year's wrap-up post yet. Is it too late? It's not even January 10th, so probably not. Do I want to bother? Maybe not. I read 191 books, maybe that is most of my year? Then again, I told somebody I hadn't traveled last year and then realized I had and had just forgotten. EWGHGGHGH. 

2.Current annoying things: My carpal tunnel splints, which I need to wear every night in order for my hands not to be shriveled useless claws by the end of the day start giving me eczema every January when there's no moisture in the city: Shriveled claw hand or scabby gross hand? What a choice. Also, I am pretty much fully recovered from the flu except my voice still sounds like Isaac when he screeches Malachaiiiiiii in Children of the Corn (the kids in the library keep wincing when I try to talk to them) and I am a fountain of snot. I went to the drugstore yesterday and bought everything that looked like it might clear the snot out. Remember when the triple dose of allergy meds didn't kill me? What doesn't kill you... makes the snot stronger? 

3. Current good things: I washed my bath mat, which I've been meaning to do since before Christmas. Now it is free of baby powder and toenail clippings and soap residue and I feel so much better stepping on it (it's January, I am counting even the tiny good things). Also I started DNF-ing books. And I've been falling asleep to the Wicked soundtrack every night. Cynthia Erivo's voice is a holy and transcendent thing. 

4: Current awesome things: We got a new mattress! An Endy mattress! Our current one is as old as our house, which is a year older than Angus, which is almost three times as long as you're supposed to use a mattress. I slept on an Endy at the little cabin we went to last year (probably five years ago, let's be honest) and at Zarah's house and loved it, and they had a boxing day sale. They come in a box with an instruction card that tells you to open the box in the same room you want the mattress in, because once it's out it starts expanding. I was told there are videos of people being blown across the room, so I have to say our actual experience was a little anti-climactic, but I am in loooove with the mattress. I was feeling the springs in the old one every time I got in and this one is some kind of memory foam and it's like the bed is hugging you: Also, Engie said we can do a buddy read this year! It's all coming up Endy and Engie this week. OH OH! ALSO I got Engie's Christmas card with pictures from... senior year? Now I can't find the post that says when they're from, but I have all the old pics of our friends with their little kids and my kids when they were little and I am adding Engie lounging by a lake and wearing plaid and posing by a hay bale like the cutest baby lesbian ever. With the name stamped on them in gold so shiny I thought she was holding a clarinet in one pictures. Thank-you Engie, I will treasure them. 

5. We are traveling soon and I went to a local clothing store I've been meaning to check out for years to see if they had anything for the night we're supposed to wear white. I ended up with one of those saleswomen that pride themselves on being 'honest', and she said things like "you could wear a necklace to draw attention down and away from your boobs" and "this one clings to your back fat less". Which would have been fine, except she didn't understand my style at all and tried to sell me a top that made me look like a cracker box (a cracker box without back fat, I guess she thought that's the best I could do). Happily I was more amused than upset, and I didn't feel bad for not buying anything. Oh! The red dress from New Year's that Suzanne wanted to know about. Unfortunately I'm not sure it's an easy find - I got it at this weird place that Zarah and I always go to - it's a giant greenhouse but inside there's also a clothing boutique that has kind of different clothes that I never find anywhere else (and a saleswoman who refrains from exclaiming about my problem areas in a loud voice - she even found me a sweater that is light enough that I can WEAR it). The label on the dress says Creation. When I look it up, it is maybe a Canadian line that... is discontinued? That sucks, because I would be ALL OVER twinning with Suzanne. 

I'm Siiiiick

 Actually I'm mostly better now and I feel like my body is kind of looking around going what the hell just happened.

The flu has been tearing through my schools like fire through a paper factory. I got my flu shot (and my Covid shot), I have washed and sanitized the first few layers of skin off my hands, I have tried to maintain a healthy distance, but I kind of knew I was a dead woman walking. We had weekend plans because it's December, and we could have cancelled it all but everyone was working under informed consent and still wanted to do everything.

Friday night we went to the Christmas outdoor market with Matt's colleagues, two of whom were from California and wanted to try a beaver tail and... be cold, I guess? I love the Christmas market and really like these women. We picked up Maryam to drive down, and on the way we were trading funny stories about my husband, who suddenly realized that connecting the woman who knew all of his embarrassing stories from the office with the woman who knew all of his embarrassing stories from whom was perhaps a regrettable choice. Then we realized that Camille knew many of his embarrassing stories from travel, which closed some kind of magical miserable loop for him and was very enjoyable for all of us.

Saturday was my second annual Festive Special date with Holly, Kerry and Nat. Our group chat keeps me from committing violence on myself or others several times a week. 

Saturday night we had no plans, so we asked our friends who we will be seeing this Saturday for the big Christmas party if they wanted to come over for a ... small Christmas party? We had decorations up and the main floor was clean for fifteen minutes and it seemed like we should do something festive. Matt bought some cheese and crackers, I bought twelve bags of chips, Margot and Michael brought Lynzie for Lucy to play with, it was a really fun, chill night. 

(Adorable picture of Lucy and Lynzie that Blogger will not allow me to show to you because it is dumb and hates joy)

Sunday I woke up and I was sick. And worried I'd infected everyone else. But everyone else who was sick was sick right then or the next day, or is still not sick, so I am not Patient Zero. I thought it was just a cold because I didn't feel horrible, and usually the flu takes me down hard overnight. By bedtime I had a fever and my throat felt flayed and my ribs were so sore that coughing was agony. The last time I had the flu Matt and Eve had to fly to Florida without me for March Break and I almost died, so then I was kind of scared. But I slept for most of Sunday and Monday and by Tuesday felt like I was turning the corner. Last night was a kind of stoned-on-cold-meds fever dream that I spent half asleep and half awake and middle-of-the-night texting my niece who is in England and Suzanne who is in perimenopause.

My niece is brilliant and hilarious and we have a lot of similar mental health issues, so our text chain is robust and far-ranging. One of the best episodes in our history was when I met her first girlfriend and tried to say 'hey' but choked a tiny little bit and so it sounded the slightest bit like 'gHEY', which had us all doubled over howling with laughter. Her new girlfriend is bi, so under the influence of opioid cough syrup I texted "hey, remember when I met your first gf and said gay? I was thinking what if I meet this one and it all goes great and then at the end I say 'bye' and you scream "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU". 

Today I ventured back into the world (masked again) and am only sort of experiencing that terrible alienated-from-the-world feeling that comes from trying to get back in the swing after being out of the swing. I haven't baked anything or wrapped anything yet, but there are actually some days left before Christmas (time has truly lost all meaning). My husband who supplied me with icy drinks and popsicles to soothe my burning throat seems unscathed by illness so far (I made sure he got his shots before he traveled for three weeks out of the last four, and often his immune system is what we call "China Strong", so fingers crossed). The kids are both vaccinated and okay - it feels counter-intuitive to be bringing them towards, rather than away from, my flu-ridden city. We just have to make sure my parents stay protected. 

Love and bleach, friends. If you can't stay sane, stay healthy. 

When Your Head's Not in the Game

 So I had a rough night Sunday heading into Monday. I don't know if this is common with migraines, but one feature of many of mine is that it isn't readily apparent that I'm getting a migraine. I just have this nagging feeling of things not being right, like maybe I'm getting a stomach bug, and why is my mouth so dry, and I get really irritable. Even though this accumulation of things should make me think 'migraine', it's often hours before it does. It's somehow an annoying feature of this syndrome that its nature makes it unrecognizable.

So I woke up Monday morning and just felt Bad. I used to be cranky any morning I had to wake up early, and to forestall just being a bitch across the board I would not talk much. I've gotten over that - having kids sort of makes it necessary- and my husband and I generally chat amiably while getting ready and then as I drive him to my mom and dad's, where he drops off the dog and either takes their vehicle to work or walks the rest of the way. Monday morning I was sullen and silent and stabbed the radio button off spitefully when I started the car and it came on too loud. Matt got out of the car, grabbed the dog carrier and said "have a good day". I muttered "don't fucking tell me what to do", but I waited until after he'd closed the door.

I made it through the work day and did some errands and picked up Lucy and visited my parents, then came home and decided to actually cook dinner. I made sheet pan chicken thighs and cauliflower with a balsamic sauce, and I mixed everything and laid out everything and put it in the oven and for some reason I put on the exact time the recipe said and then just walked away and trusted that that would work. Why? I NEVER do that. I ALWAYS put less time than the recipe says and check on it.

I was at the kitchen table writing out Christmas cards when I suddenly got a whiff of burning smell, and then a delivery man rang the doorbell and Lucy lost her mind, and I had to deal with the delivery and Lucy just kept barking, and then he left and I had burned the shit out of a whole meal for the first time, like...ever, maybe?

I was feeling like this maybe just wasn't my day. I put the sheet pan on the top of the stove and texted Matt that I had just burned dinner and he should not walk in the house and say "is there something burning?" if he valued his life. Then I typed "you can eat perogies", which he had bought the day before. Except it autocorrected to "you can eat peroxide". When I saw that I started laughing so hard I couldn't catch my breath, which reminded me how dry my mouth was, and then I started crying a little, and THEN I realized that I had a migraine (and texted my husband that 'peroxide' was a lot more hostile than what I was going for).

So if I accidentally wrote anything profane in a Christmas card that comes your way, I apologize.