Sunday, May 3, 2015

Dancing in the Red Shoes

I finally got over a really painful "hormone week" and my tree pollen allergies are now going haywire, so I'm on pseudoephedrine, hoping to dry it up and somehow soothe my sore throat and coughing.  My calves are aching and cramping from all the hilly walking yesterday, and I'm really thankful I wore running shoes.  The rest of me still hurts all over.  I'm considering being re-tested for rheumatoid arthritis, considering that my feet are rapidly and painfully changing shape.

As usual, my concern is finding a skilled doctor who us a healer, and not a profiteer.  I'm not sure they exist in this country anymore, but it's not like I can just bebop over to England and ask the NHS to help me so that I can continue to walk.  

I sound like a bowl of Rice Krispies every time I move, and I have joints popping loudly in places where I'd never have expected it --- such as my sore elbow joints.  I'll have to say a personal thanks to the doctor who dismissed this ten years ago as "just a virus" because of his own incompetence.  

Still, as crummy as I've been feeling, I donated completely unmedicated and presumably healthy blood on Thursday and it wore me out.  I was lightheaded afterward, though I ate plenty of food and drank a decent amount of liquids.  

The donation site continued to bleed for hours afterward, of course.  It soaked the cotton ball, and it was still wet when I was supposed to remove it hours later.  Something made my blood pressure rise and I ended up over exerting myself when I should have been resting.  But no. 

I need some time off from fulfilling others' expectations of me.  I'm actually feeling a lot more run down than I've been letting on, but everyone misses the obvious physical signs of that. Excessive and unrejuvenating sleep, dark circles deepening under my eyes, and loss of appetite.  Nobody notices anything. And I'm expected to dance feverishly to everyone else's tune.  

How about if I just chop off the little red shoes with my feet still in them? *

* The Red Shoes by Hans Christian Andersen, in case you don't know your fairy tales.

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