November is ending and I'm not that happy about this. November was my last month of protection before everything has the potential to go to hell. As I have mentioned before, my birth month has a tendency to kick my ass and this makes me somewhat fearful of any December.
Last year was a very good example of this. I contracted some stomach virus that was so horrible that I actually have a little PTSD now. I'm really terrified of getting something like that again. I'm not usually one of those germaphobic people, but last year's stomach yick made me that way. I now carry around the container of hand sanitizer to keep everyone else's fugly germs off of me. Bastards.
The virus only lasted 24 hours, but the lingering nausea lasted for weeks. I would have vertigo any time I tried to drive and I would worry that I was going to puke. I spent my holiday parties on the verge of being ill again and kept worrying that I wouldn't keep down whatever they fed me. This illness basically ruined my Christmas and birthday.
December was also the last month of Alice's life. She was sick during most of it and spent quite a few days just sleeping as much as she could. I am still not over the loss of her. Fluffy's death hurts, but I'm more peaceful about it because he lived such a long and rich live. Alice's death still feels so unjust. She was so young and she'd only been inside for a while. If she would have been in better health when we got her, or if the people who had her from birth would have taken better care of her, she probably could have lived as long as Fluffy did.
So yeah, I'm dreading December. I'm dreading the potential for illness. I'm dreading the potential for hurt. I'm dreading the potential for somehow missing out on everything and just being sick and broken the whole time. When you top that off with the fact that I'll be turning 40 and that I now get hot flashes, this month has a lot of options for really screwing with me.
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