Sick Day in Sicksville

Well, my roommate and I are both sick. The day consisted of lots of sneezes, coughs, and very slow movement. I managed to go to therapy, though that felt like a much larger accomplishment than it should have. Or, you know, maybe not. It's only the second time I've been since I started the bloodnasties and the first time that I actually stayed through the whole session. I'm glad I did, though I was worried the whole time. I'm so paranoid about bleeding now. I'll be glad when it's a little warmer so I can talk to my doctor about Nova Sure. I really hope I can do it. It would make such a huge difference in the length of the chain.

Tomorrow is trash day and I'm going to get my portion of the trash out of the house. I feel like I'm strong enough to do this now. I'll probably be breathless and have to sit in the utility room for a while once I'm finished, but it will be worth it to accomplish this myself. I did it two weeks ago, but not last week. I was just too ill with the evil congestion thing at that point. Plus, there was still a lot of ice on the ground. The ice is mostly gone now, in fact, it's beginning to warm up. That would be nice. This has been such a horrible winter, I'm almost looking forward to the problematic nature of Spring (allergies, fleas, and mowing). All of that is difficult to handle, but at least it doesn't make us run the risk of sliding on our asses.

My roommate and I, now that perimenopause is part of our lives, are hearing and reading about a lot more cases of how difficult it can be for people. Seriously, if you start experiencing the stuff I've been talking about for several weeks now, go see your doctor about it. Get help for it and if they don't listen to you, go to another doctor. There are tons of things this phase of life can do to you and if some of them go untreated, like the massive periods, you could die.

I don't know that anyone has ever died directly from fatigue, but it certainly makes you wish you could. Or maybe, a better way to put it is that it makes you stop caring one way or the other. When you're fatigued, you reach points of exhaustion where if the murder people came in the house, you'd just sigh and beg them to shoot you because you don't have the energy for their games. If a mugger wanted your money, you'd just laugh and tell them to shoot you so that you didn't have to go through the effort of canceling all your credit cards. It sounds like I'm joking, but I'm not. I have really been that exhausted lately.

I wonder how the home invasion psychos would deal with that? "Yeah, sorry. I'm not going to snivel and beg for my life. I'm out of spoons for that kind of thing. Can you just shoot me please?" It would probably confuse them. They might even give up and leave. That basically means I would be rejected by a home invasion psycho. I'm not sure if that is better or worse.