Category: Wellbeing

I know this. You know this. We also know that there is a difference between knowing and doing. Case in point (you just knew there had to be one): TONIGHT.

I like sleep, and I think sleep likes me. We get along famously, but occasionally things come between us. When this happens sleep gets angry with me. He starts to come by when he isn’t wanted. You can understand why I wouldn’t want to upset my life long friend, don’t you? I have my weaknesses though. First and foremost, there’s football: prime time, week night football games – oh the humanity! So along comes this other friend of mine: the NFL football season. I am suddenly and unexpectedly presented with the opportunity to see a game – live – at my local NFL football venue. The only catch is it’s a prime time, week night football game! I go and I will be up way past my normal bed time. Tomorrow is another work day – a day to get up early, do the commute, and earn my pay for eight hours of the day. Life is a bitch when sleep gets angry with me on a work day.

Do I go to the game and let it come between me and my friend sleep? Alas, my answer is no.

Damn choices!

Another Disney creation is wafting in the background (Sleeping Beauty on VHS). It is all I can do to keep my eyes open. My Achilles Heel is children’s programing. So here I sit, typing away with my eyes closed. The movie marches on wether I pay attention or not.

Does your stomach hurt? Do feel like you want to hurl? Does your head ache? Does the thought of food drive you into a single minded, Pavlovian response?

Suddenly my phone rings. No, that’s not exactly true. My phone started to vibrate in my pocket. Exercising good mobile phone etiquette, I stepped outside to see who was so important they felt it necessary to interrupt the death watch. It was Cheryl. She wanted to know when I would be home, when she should cook dinner, and what I would like to eat.

Now all those questions about hunger are starting to make sense, eh?

I’m sitting here starving and my wife calls to torture me. Knowing that I’ve got thirty minutes to sit here, I’m forced against my will to think about food. This is what I’m thinking as she asks me these questions. What can I say, hunger makes me a little irrational. Like any rational adult, she interprets my lack of verbal response as indecision and starts to run through the menu. “Would you like turkey, meat-loaf, macaroni with red sauce, or chicken?” In my current state she could have offered me reheated macaroni and I would have gladly accepted. I haven’t quite finished my thought, but my thirty minutes are up. It’s time to go eat!

Thirty minutes is a long time to wait in a doctor’s office lobby. The only thing that makes it tolerable is I know when it will end. It will be exactly a half an hour. When my time is up I get to walk up to the window, assure the nurse that my air passages have not closed up, and leave. A half an hour in the lobby waiting for the nurse to call you back to the exam room, not knowing when you will be called, is much worse.

Like I need to tell you that. My overdeveloped ability to state the obvious has kicked in again. I’m getting a tremendous sense of deja vu. Have I written this before? Have I written this before?

Do you ever tire of hearing about my doctor’s visits? Well, once again the death watch is on. No, they really don’t think the allergy shots will kill me. It’s not likely, anyway.

To discard as defective or useless; throw away.
To spit out or vomit.
To resist immunologically the introduction of (a transplanted organ or tissue); fail to accept as part of one’s own body.

Placed in the context of a restroom… well, let’s just say I’ve had better days.

It is late. You are lying in bed but sleep will not come. You don’t think you are particularly worried about anything, yet your mind refuses to slow to a pace which will accommodate sleep. You know that you will need to be rested tomorrow, and soon you are dismayed to find that it is tomorrow. You think about all the things you could do to fall asleep. Read something really boring? Check. Get really comfortable? Check. Attempt to clear your mind and relax? Check. Get up and write something really stupid? Check.

At this point I’ve got a couple of choices. I can go for the natural method, not that it’s brought me much success in the past. Plan A: I can deal with the likely frustration of not falling asleep, and the fatigue that will plague me later today; or, I can go with plan B – take some drugs. Come to think of it, my allergies are bugging me a little. Maybe it’s time for a little O.T.C. relief. Raise your hand if you’ve heard of Benadryl. Don’t you feel silly sitting there by yourself with your hand raised? Benadryl is the big gun in my allergy relief arsenal. Once upon a time that distinction was held by Actifed, but no more my friend! Benadryl does for allergies what a pound of C-4 does for insect control – you get a bunch of dead bugs, plus a whole lot more. In this case, what you get is really drowsy. What am I doing here still talking? The time for talk has past; it’s time for action. Wish me luck, I’m going in.

My allergist once said that an itch under the arm (known in scientific circles as the “pit”) is a sign of an allergic reaction. It’s refreshing to know there is an alternative to the “my personal hygiene leaves something to be desired theory; or better yet, the “I’m turning into a primate” theory.

Is there any doubt in your mind that it is late?

I take it all back. I don’t want to be sick. A vanilla fever is o.k., but headaches are hell. Since my last post I’ve had the kind of chronic sinus headache that makes you want a “big gun” pain killer. For me, that big gun is a combination of Motrin and Sudafed. Tragically, I was Motrin free at the office today. What’s worse that not having any Motrin? Not having the Sudafed either.

Here endeth the whining.

Taking a sick day is a wonderful thing. Get beyond the whole “sick” thing and a sick day is a marvelous void in an otherwise busy life. This was my lot in the grand scheme of life on this day. For half the day nothing interrupted my quiet, peaceful delirium. Laying peacefully in a darkened, cool room with nothing to keep me company but my confused, vacant thoughts… ah, there’s nothing quite like a mild fever to relax the soul (nothing this side of federal and state law anyway). I’ve got quite a streak going here. This is the second consecutive month with at least one sick day – due to my own illness no less. Ah, but it was too good to last. I broke out of my peaceful slumber just before noon today. No fever and a stomach that remains partially full of bland foods means just one thing – I’m going to have to go back to work tomorrow.

Anybody know where I can pick up a good 24 hour flu bug?