This blog has become a rant fest of health issues lately, I see. I promise you, I am no hypochondriac, and am generally a healthy person, save for periodic mood swings, migraines, sniffles, Carpal tunnels, stomach cramps…ahem, no I really am a healthy person, please believe me. This past week has been an exception that does not seem to end.
The worst part is that I had plans for this weekend. I had planned to complete my backlog editing work by Friday (and I was well on track until my sister-in-law came into my life), and spend the rest of the weekend deep cleaning my house and relaxing on the easy-chair with my kindle, sipping cups after cups of tea and tisane. Instead, at noon on Saturday I am obsessing over the three more documents that must be completed by tomorrow (damn, I lost two entire days to badly made French fries), and curling up in bed with massive exhaustion that came out of having my blood pressure plummet to 92/54 yesterday, necessitating replenishment of bodily fluids from liquid in a plastic bag, hung ominously from a stand beside the hospital bed. But if I choose to see the glass as being half full (of crap, in fact), the runs have run dry, although the invisible hand that squeezes the innards has not quit yet. I stopped all medications because they are suspected of pushing the sphygmomanometer readings into dangerous terrains. Which, in turn, makes the invisible hand reluctant to call it quits. Ah well.
It can only get better from here on, no?