Annagram the Eskimoette
New member
It's now 1:10 a.m.
After an hour of sleep in the recliner, I am awakened by my breathing machine hose taking on water. Although it did not get into my nose, the idea of water in the air tube forces me to get up and fix it. I have the hose hanging from a door frame, trying to dry it out, without using the blowdryer...too noisy.
I can't sleep without it, for fear of heart failure during my sleep...my pulmonary doctor is very clear about that. My habit is to use it anytime I may fall asleep, even accidentally. Another good reason to sleep in the chair, all my stuff doesn't have to be moved back and forth between here and my bedroom.
Even after an hour of sleep I wake up with night sweats (did I mention menopause?), and a taste in my mouth that tastes like rusty nails and fur have been soaking in it. The taste is an effect of the kidney failure, and it can eat up your gums too-lovely! It makes me very conscious of my breath, no matter how often clean I brush my teeth. Inviting, huh?
You can see why I chose general health to post this thread! There is some thing for everyone here...pick something! How about hemmeroids? I got one of those this weekend, due to the pain medication. That is with a big daily dose of psyllium husk powder stirred into a glass of warm water-fartatious!
Hubby gets up for some more cold medication...did I mention that he has been sick for 9 days with a cold/flu/sinus thing? When I say hubby, I mean mate, partner, in a relationship with...not legally married. I like the word, and despise signifigent other, boyfriend, old man - Just for the record.
Under normal circumstances, he takes care of me physically, and I take care of him mentally. By that I mean he provides, shops, cleans, does laundry, yard, trash, drives, everything. I, on the other hand, do whatever I want. Luckily, I want to be happy, and we are all happy. Can you believe it? I am very lucky.
At this point, I fel like I should apologize for carrying on, but I'm not going to. the words are just flowing out my little fingers. Maybe I should warn the readers, like some people do here - long post. Nah....I know I'm not going to read it back before I hit the "Submit Reply" button. I have a personal policy against reading things before I send them. Once you do that, it will never get sent, because I second guess myself. When writing a letter, (which I use to do), I would prepare the envelope first, stamp and all. Then I would write the letter, and when I signed it, I folded it up and lick it shut.
I am not afraid of dying. Sitting with my friend Bruce while he died made me know it happens beautifully. I will change one thing he did though...I will try not to piss everyone off so bad that they didn't come say goodbye. That worked for him, but I want something more festive, for sure!
Oh great, now I am in tears. That's ok, tears are liquid feelings. I can burst in to tears at a tiny thought, out of the blue. My feelings are big, I express the joyous ones very openly, and the bittersweet ones openly too. My sweetest dog Jack wakes up and puts his head on my foot. So sensitive he is.
Jack has been staying on the recliner with me all these weeks. He is no lap dog, but he curls up perfectly under/between/around my legs, on the footrest of the recliner. My other dog sleeps in another recliner next to me. They moved out here with me, I guess.
Clinical Depression - yes, I have that. I can trace it all the way back to postpartum depression 25 years ago, following the birth of my eldest child. It wasn't diagnosed or treated then, who had heard of it then? In my family depression is not spoken of, even today. I never mention it, unless maybe here, where I am anonymous. I certainly have never admitted I suffer from it, here or anywhere. the fear of having someone say "Not you, your too happy to be depressed'...or something like that. My dear mother feels that you just need to "keep yourself busy...clean out a drawer or something". When i asked her if we had any mental illness in our family she was very clear- NO. I beg to differ...
I look toward the clock and look away. It doesn't matter what time it is. Another reason I began typing at night is that I am borrowing my 15 years old son's computer. I promise, he "needs " it all his waking hours. I noticed he had a paint program that is much better than mine, so I tired it, and made my first real drawing...a self portrait titled "living in a recliner". It's awesome. I learned that even though I am a left handed artist, I "mouse" with my right hand, therefore draw right handed using the computer. Weird!
I am an artist and a writer. I am embracing my life with words and pictures, like I have been for 40 years. My life is being defined by my illness, just like it was defined by my work before this. I have done self portraits, and keeping them since I was 10 years old. Even in this one, it is colorful, and was described as "cute" by someone who didn't understand what "living in a recliner" meant...he thought I was kicking back, watching TV. i did not draw in the machines, the medications, the fear, the pain...i am still hiding that from the real world. I did add my dogs though, after my dear friend reminded me that they were not there. The computer is an art tool that I have not explored yet...I've always practiced old school methods, and materials. Light bulb moment.
i'm tired again, the hose is dry, the heater kicked on, goodnight.
After an hour of sleep in the recliner, I am awakened by my breathing machine hose taking on water. Although it did not get into my nose, the idea of water in the air tube forces me to get up and fix it. I have the hose hanging from a door frame, trying to dry it out, without using the blowdryer...too noisy.
I can't sleep without it, for fear of heart failure during my sleep...my pulmonary doctor is very clear about that. My habit is to use it anytime I may fall asleep, even accidentally. Another good reason to sleep in the chair, all my stuff doesn't have to be moved back and forth between here and my bedroom.
Even after an hour of sleep I wake up with night sweats (did I mention menopause?), and a taste in my mouth that tastes like rusty nails and fur have been soaking in it. The taste is an effect of the kidney failure, and it can eat up your gums too-lovely! It makes me very conscious of my breath, no matter how often clean I brush my teeth. Inviting, huh?
You can see why I chose general health to post this thread! There is some thing for everyone here...pick something! How about hemmeroids? I got one of those this weekend, due to the pain medication. That is with a big daily dose of psyllium husk powder stirred into a glass of warm water-fartatious!
Hubby gets up for some more cold medication...did I mention that he has been sick for 9 days with a cold/flu/sinus thing? When I say hubby, I mean mate, partner, in a relationship with...not legally married. I like the word, and despise signifigent other, boyfriend, old man - Just for the record.
Under normal circumstances, he takes care of me physically, and I take care of him mentally. By that I mean he provides, shops, cleans, does laundry, yard, trash, drives, everything. I, on the other hand, do whatever I want. Luckily, I want to be happy, and we are all happy. Can you believe it? I am very lucky.
At this point, I fel like I should apologize for carrying on, but I'm not going to. the words are just flowing out my little fingers. Maybe I should warn the readers, like some people do here - long post. Nah....I know I'm not going to read it back before I hit the "Submit Reply" button. I have a personal policy against reading things before I send them. Once you do that, it will never get sent, because I second guess myself. When writing a letter, (which I use to do), I would prepare the envelope first, stamp and all. Then I would write the letter, and when I signed it, I folded it up and lick it shut.
I am not afraid of dying. Sitting with my friend Bruce while he died made me know it happens beautifully. I will change one thing he did though...I will try not to piss everyone off so bad that they didn't come say goodbye. That worked for him, but I want something more festive, for sure!
Oh great, now I am in tears. That's ok, tears are liquid feelings. I can burst in to tears at a tiny thought, out of the blue. My feelings are big, I express the joyous ones very openly, and the bittersweet ones openly too. My sweetest dog Jack wakes up and puts his head on my foot. So sensitive he is.
Jack has been staying on the recliner with me all these weeks. He is no lap dog, but he curls up perfectly under/between/around my legs, on the footrest of the recliner. My other dog sleeps in another recliner next to me. They moved out here with me, I guess.
Clinical Depression - yes, I have that. I can trace it all the way back to postpartum depression 25 years ago, following the birth of my eldest child. It wasn't diagnosed or treated then, who had heard of it then? In my family depression is not spoken of, even today. I never mention it, unless maybe here, where I am anonymous. I certainly have never admitted I suffer from it, here or anywhere. the fear of having someone say "Not you, your too happy to be depressed'...or something like that. My dear mother feels that you just need to "keep yourself busy...clean out a drawer or something". When i asked her if we had any mental illness in our family she was very clear- NO. I beg to differ...
I look toward the clock and look away. It doesn't matter what time it is. Another reason I began typing at night is that I am borrowing my 15 years old son's computer. I promise, he "needs " it all his waking hours. I noticed he had a paint program that is much better than mine, so I tired it, and made my first real drawing...a self portrait titled "living in a recliner". It's awesome. I learned that even though I am a left handed artist, I "mouse" with my right hand, therefore draw right handed using the computer. Weird!
I am an artist and a writer. I am embracing my life with words and pictures, like I have been for 40 years. My life is being defined by my illness, just like it was defined by my work before this. I have done self portraits, and keeping them since I was 10 years old. Even in this one, it is colorful, and was described as "cute" by someone who didn't understand what "living in a recliner" meant...he thought I was kicking back, watching TV. i did not draw in the machines, the medications, the fear, the pain...i am still hiding that from the real world. I did add my dogs though, after my dear friend reminded me that they were not there. The computer is an art tool that I have not explored yet...I've always practiced old school methods, and materials. Light bulb moment.
i'm tired again, the hose is dry, the heater kicked on, goodnight.