Okay, a status report...
This time around hasn't been as bad as it was before. I've been able to keep it (somewhat) together at work. I've found a strategy for dealing with it (staying busy with whatever activity I can find). My appetite has been good. (Might have been nice to lose 10 pounds like last time...)
This has been going for about a couple of weeks or so, but it came to a head Sunday night. The hustle and bustle of a Monday seemed to help when I was at work. Afterwards, I went with a friend to see the Spurs beat the Sixers. I didn't really tell her anything about what was going on; my only show of emotion came during a halftime ceremony honoring the team's original owner.
Tuesday, I woke up late. Be it from lack of sleep after the game, or lack of sleep due to anxiety, I was tempted to call in sick. But after not working the last three Tuesdays (due to holidays or "illness"), I figured I needed to go in. I ended up going in about 90 minutes late. The nice thing about my new job is that so long as I log 40 hours, I'm good. The night brought a planning meeting for the lecture series. A couple of girls ended up missing the meeting, but called me later to see if I wanted to meet up for a drink. For some reason, I agreed. I got to the bar, but ended up leaving after waiting for what seemed like an eternity. I called them, said I wasn't feeling well, and came back home, falling asleep on my couch with the TV on, needing some sort of distraction as I dozed off.
Wednesday, I decided to break bread with people I hadn't dined with in a while: my family. My grandmother recently took up residence in my old room, so it was a party of four that sat down to turkey spaghetti. (Our family's version of "comfort food.") After my grandma retired to her room, I told my folks about what was going on. Last time, I ended up staying with them for a little while in order for me to avoid dealing with an empty apartment. This time, my dad offered a plan of action. Get an appointment with my doctor for some meds, get in to see a therapist, and start exercising. He even offered to join me in the exercise. I declined that, but at least got contact numbers in order to make phone calls the next day.
The next day, I ended up making only one call, finding out my doctor was booked until the week after next. That night, I found another outlet with which to distract myself: the Texas Exes. An alumni meeting was going on at one of downtown's finer hipster bars, so I decided to check it out. I met some decent people, found out about opportunities to improve my softball skills, and met a nice lawyer. (Yes, they do exist.)
Tonight? Me, myself and I. The return of Best Week Ever has helped, and I plan to revisit some favorites in my DVD library. The main goal for me now is to keep myself busy for the next ten days or so. (Did I mention the men's church retreat I'm going on next weekend?)
A week and a half until I can taste meds again, I guess...
This time around hasn't been as bad as it was before. I've been able to keep it (somewhat) together at work. I've found a strategy for dealing with it (staying busy with whatever activity I can find). My appetite has been good. (Might have been nice to lose 10 pounds like last time...)
This has been going for about a couple of weeks or so, but it came to a head Sunday night. The hustle and bustle of a Monday seemed to help when I was at work. Afterwards, I went with a friend to see the Spurs beat the Sixers. I didn't really tell her anything about what was going on; my only show of emotion came during a halftime ceremony honoring the team's original owner.
Tuesday, I woke up late. Be it from lack of sleep after the game, or lack of sleep due to anxiety, I was tempted to call in sick. But after not working the last three Tuesdays (due to holidays or "illness"), I figured I needed to go in. I ended up going in about 90 minutes late. The nice thing about my new job is that so long as I log 40 hours, I'm good. The night brought a planning meeting for the lecture series. A couple of girls ended up missing the meeting, but called me later to see if I wanted to meet up for a drink. For some reason, I agreed. I got to the bar, but ended up leaving after waiting for what seemed like an eternity. I called them, said I wasn't feeling well, and came back home, falling asleep on my couch with the TV on, needing some sort of distraction as I dozed off.
Wednesday, I decided to break bread with people I hadn't dined with in a while: my family. My grandmother recently took up residence in my old room, so it was a party of four that sat down to turkey spaghetti. (Our family's version of "comfort food.") After my grandma retired to her room, I told my folks about what was going on. Last time, I ended up staying with them for a little while in order for me to avoid dealing with an empty apartment. This time, my dad offered a plan of action. Get an appointment with my doctor for some meds, get in to see a therapist, and start exercising. He even offered to join me in the exercise. I declined that, but at least got contact numbers in order to make phone calls the next day.
The next day, I ended up making only one call, finding out my doctor was booked until the week after next. That night, I found another outlet with which to distract myself: the Texas Exes. An alumni meeting was going on at one of downtown's finer hipster bars, so I decided to check it out. I met some decent people, found out about opportunities to improve my softball skills, and met a nice lawyer. (Yes, they do exist.)
Tonight? Me, myself and I. The return of Best Week Ever has helped, and I plan to revisit some favorites in my DVD library. The main goal for me now is to keep myself busy for the next ten days or so. (Did I mention the men's church retreat I'm going on next weekend?)
A week and a half until I can taste meds again, I guess...
Labels: Life
1 Comments:
Thinking of you ... hoping you can find some bright spots.
By
~profgrrrrl~, at 10:10 PM
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