Category: health (page 2 of 4)

Nothing good ever comes of the late night navel gazing of a hormonal insomniac.

I’ve been trying to get to sleep for what feels like months. I’m tired, I get ready for bed, I lay down, and then presto. Not tired anymore.

I’ll lay there in the dark and envy my beloved’s ability to fall asleep within ten breaths. His deep breathing doesn’t sooth me; if anything it adds a level of anxiety. What if it stops and I’m not awake to restart it? Sounds out there I know, but both my dad and older brother have related sleep apnea stories, tales of waking up because they stopped breathing and what they had to do to restart it.

Anxiety has had a field day since May. But the bastard never shows it’s face in the light of day when I can deal with it. No, it waits until I lay down and am warm and comfortable under the duvet. It then parades an ever-changing parade of images through my mind. The mistakes I made, might have made without realizing it and even the ones that I know I didn’t make but might have in an alternate universe. Stupid things I said, and stupid things I didn’t say but only thought so loud they might have heard me. False images of people in HR departments laughing at any one of the hundred resumes I’ve sent out, exclaiming to each other, who does she think she’s kidding? The man at the course I want to get into isn’t returning my email, not because he’s busy and it might have fallen off his radar but because he knows my application is hopeless and doesn’t want to waste any more of his time on me. I’ll think that I should be further along by now, think that I should have learned more, done more, accomplished more by now. I should have used the time to go the gym and become less fat and flabby, gone to the HackLab to meet people & learn stuff, edit the novel, write the stories for submission, finish the online courses I started, get out, do something, finish anything. But of course I haven’t because I am just not that good at anything, not nearly as good as I think I am. I could be, but I’m not. For the eleventy billionth time, I curse my laziness and lack of self-discipline, and think, tomorrow, tomorrow might be different.

But it never is. Every morning, I wake up groggy after finally giving up and taking something to sleep, but too late for it to actually be fully effective before the sun streams in through the space under the roller blind. I have coffee and the best of intentions, but then the day passes with me becoming a little more reluctant every day to do something, to go out, to join the world.

I’m drifting. Yes, I have Plans A through D, but I’m not working them as much as I could be or should be. Days slip past and I’ll be damned if I know where they go. Well I know where some of them go: Netflix is a great time suck. I knit so that I feel like I’m still doing something productive, but seriously, just how many cowls and scarves can one woman wear?

I’m not writing this for advice, or pity or help. I’m writing this after laying in bed for 20 minutes, then getting up to write about the uncertainty and anxiety and, yes, I’ll say it, depression, to write them out of my head so that I don’t spend the next few hours letting it all play out in front of my minds eye again, so that I might get to sleep without special teas or herbal supplements or drugs.

It might be working. My eyes are getting that slightly sandpapery feeling they get when I’m really ready to sleep. Of course, they also feel like that when I’m ready to have a good cry, so who knows.


Maybe tomorrow.

I’d hoped to come home from first beer class and write about the experience, but have a sinus headache that hurts so bad I feel like I’m going to throw up.

It will have to wait until tomorrow.

Today & Yesterday


Goodbye, second molar on the left side. It’s been a fun 45 years or so, but let’s face it, you’ve not been the same since the root canal ¬†five years back. And while it’s a bit painful having this great hole in my jaw (or would be if I didn’t have uber strength Advil and Tylenol 3 with codeine), I doubt I’ll miss that constant slight background feeling that I’m biting on tinfoil once the swelling goes down and the great hole has healed.



Like everyone else, I was horrified by what happened in Boston yesterday. And then I was horrified by what I saw on social media afterward. Scams to take advantage of the horrified, cryptic messages, suppositions and Chinese Whispers passed off as truths and retweeted without verification, hatred, thoughtlessness, and people telling me what I should “witness”, what I should be thinking and how I should be feeling.

I can think & feel for myself, tyvm. And watching the same news clips of smoke and flames and blood on the ground neither increases or decreases my disgust at the action; it serves no purpose other than to plant seeds in my mind that I would rather not see take root.

My solution was to turn it all off. I went for a walk in the ravine and sat by a wild riot of bluebells near the river, listening to robins, red-wing blackbirds and blue jays punctuate the sound of the rushing water until my equilibrium returned. I meditated on the innate good in people, and hoped that the good people won’t be turned to hatred or despair by evil actions. As I sat, a coyote the size of a small wolf came to the river on the opposite back, and after drinking its fill, stared at me for one of those moments that contain an eternity in a second. The call of a blue jay startled it, and it turned and loped along the bike trail toward the wilder part of the ravine.

Then I went home, hugged my husband, talked to my friend. Life is short; shorter than you might think. Enjoy the moments you can, however you can.


Huh. Looks like I’m blogging again.


That’s me, the one in the black.

Yes, I know it’s fuzzy; I was running. More specifically, I was trying to get around #4 so I could get the ball. I was unsuccessful.

Today was the annual teacher-student basketball game. I have been at the school for 13 years, and this is the first time I’ve played in it. We (the teachers) lost, 42-16, which was ok because the students were members of the senior team who came this -> <- close to winning the Championship again this year. I can’t speak for the other teachers, but I was kinda expecting to get schooled.

I joked with some of the seniors afterward that the last time I played basketball was when I was in high school, in 1977 (actually, was using that as my excuse for my blatant rule-breaking. Shh…don’t tell them). I had a blast, and rode those exercise endorphins all day. I wore braces on both knees and while they are sore here at the end of the day, it’s just the ache of muscles that had to work more than they are used to.

Honestly, sometimes I think breaking my knee might have been the best thing to happen to me at this stage of my life. It’s forced me to lose weight, to be more active, to take a few risks.


Tuesday, November 20th

Tuesday's are my short days, and I had planned to go for a walk or head to the AGO and take in the Frida Kahlo/Diego Rivera exhibit and perhaps head to Kensington Market for a coffee at Moonbean.

Instead I went home, and curled up under my knitted afghan with a cup of tea and honey and a book to try and head off that scratchy feeling in the back of my throat so that it doesn't excalate into the bug that is working it's way through the school. Still a good way to spend a November afternoon.


I uncorked my attempt at ginger beer, made with a recipe I found in Cottage Life that uses 2L plastic pop bottles and simple ingredients I already had. It was meh. Interesting experiment, but I'm not sure if my Moscow Mule consumption warrants more effort and expense to collect better bottles and ingredients. The Fever Tree ginger beer is expensive yes, but it's not like I'm going through that much of it.


Day 2 of Back On the Wagon (BOW) – was in a calorie deficit until Keith came home and made me a grilled cheese to make me feel better. I knew it put me over, but there is no way I am going to refuse a surprise treat made with care, brought to me in bed by someone I love who wants me to feel better.


The number begins with a 2

This is from Monday, November 19th as part of NaBloPoMo. Yes, I'm still catching up.


I've been slacking for a while now. For a long while. I was going great with the weight loss/fitness plan, using my FitBit to track my calories in and out. Then it was summer and what with derby and going motorcycling and walking everywhere and then going for an unplugged vacation, well I just stopped tracking exercise.

And one thing led to another; having that extra yummy coffee with syrup seemed like a good idea, oh, and why not have a bagel or a muffin with that? I am feeling a bit peckish, and yes, it's been a bad day so chocolate is in order, and getting those amazing Portuguese custard tarts is a bit of a road trip, so let's make it worthwhile by getting six instead of two, and a few potato chips can't hurt, and I'm always too busy to go to the gym, and the weather is getting too cold and crappy for much outside stuff. And before I know it, my new jeans are feeling so tight that I have to get my old bigger ones out, my FitBit is dusty and I'm averting my eyes as I walk past the corner the bedroom that has the scales.


This morning, I stopped averting my eye and stepped on the scales. I help my breath as the display swung back and forth before settling on a number. While that three-digit number is not as big as it was in January, it still begins with a two.

Erk. Not happy about that. At. All.

Today, I dusted off the FitBit charged it and clipped it to my bra strap. Back to tracking steps and fitness and food.



This morning, the alarm went off at 6:35 as it always does. I hit the snooze button twice as I always do, then stumbled out of bed, grabbing my robe which is hanging on the hook it always hangs on. I shower, starting from the top (washing hair) and working my way down as I always do. I turned the water off, flicked open the shower curtain and reached for the towel hanging where it always hangs.

Then my back decided to do something it has never done before. And that is why I stayed home today taking muscle relaxants as frequently as the directions allowed and watching Doctor Who on Neflix.


June 27

Day 27: Bathroom

There is no photo for today for two reasons.

One – I think I’ve taken enough pictures of my toes emerging from bubbles.

Two (most importantly) – I didn’t feel like it. I helped with an 8 hour HTML/CSS training session followed by getting across the city during rush hour (yay) so I can skate/sweat/fall in derby practice.

And on that note, I am shuffling off to bed. Literally shuffling. Like an arthritic grandma in fuzzy slipper shuffling. This getting-into-shape-by roller-skating thing might just kill me.

June 22-23

Day 22: From a high angle

Looking down from my window on the 21st floor to a view of the driveway and small visitor parking lot. I don’t often see it as I have to actually lean out of the window. This plays havoc with my vertigo and height anxiety at the moment, although it is getting much better thanks to CBT.


Day 23: Movement

The school went to an indoor trampoline park for the end of the year trip. I was seriously thinking about jumping around myself until I saw a grade 10 student with an ice-pack on her knee.
Getting old blows…my desire to jump in and try new things is being tempered by experience and maturity whispering in my ear.


May 1

Before I get started, let me just say this is not about Australia (still miss it too much to write about it), being 50 (I don’t feel 50 which makes it hard to write about), the anniversary of breaking my knee (I’m pissed at the knee right now…it hurts and is getting in the way of my derby fun), or derby (bought new outdoor wheels, having a blast, except for when the knee acts like a whiney bitch and wants me to take it easy).

Not sure what this is actually. Mind dump, I guess. I’ll get to the other stuff eventually.

BTW I am writing this from my iPad that wants to keep correcting whiney into Whitney and FSM knows what else that I might not catch. My desire to backtrack and correct is waning with every sip of this delicious raspberry cosmo; you’re all smart folks, you can figure it out.


Well my indecision about joining in the May photo-a-day challenge didn’t last long.

Day 1: Peace


The noisiest thing in the apartment this afternoon was the purring of sleepy cat. It was very peaceful.

Right up to the point where someone (not me) decided it was time to trim her claws and clean her back feet. We need more kitty treats and alcohol before peace is reclaimed.


Last night was the last big event at the school, the annual art show. I was there because I do a cross-curricular business project with the grade 9’s that culminates with them selling their craft-based products. The projects were incredible this year; I am stocked up with gifts for the nieces and some lovely jewelry for me.

I am constantly blown away by the skill and thoughtfulness in the work that the students display. Every year I see a piece or two that strikes me. This year, it is this painting of poppies by a 14-year-old. She agreed to sell it to me & it will be hanging my bedroom as soon as it’s been marked. I told her that if it gets less than 70% then I’ve missed something & I want a partial refund. She just laughed…we both know I’m getting a deal as it is.


I found myself wishing (again) that I’d had teachers and a curriculum like this when I was growing up.


I am loving my iPad a little too much. There are about 4 things I need it to do that it doesn’t in order for it to replace my trusty netbook, but I’ve found workarounds for 2. I’d like it if there was a better way to work with Google Docs, and I found a Python programming app which made me the nerd queen at a workshop last Saturday. I have more photography apps than is really required by any normal person, and I am delighted to find that I can reread my Sandman and Tankgirl comics by grabbing them off of Dropbox and opening them with Comic Flow.

FYI, comics look awesome on the iPad.

Speaking of Dropbox, I am seriously in <3 with it. With most cloud storage actually, and how it connects to this object of techno-geek desire. It appears I am a bit of a cloud storage whore; I have collected free offers from Box (50 gb), Skydrive (25 gb), Dropbox (10 gb) and Google Drive (3 accounts x 5 gb each). Organizing my data is one of my next fun projects, along with sorting family photos, editing the novel and cleaning the closet. ********** Excellent. The combination of writing and drinking have made me feel less like throat punching someone. Mission accomplished.

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