Tag Archives: influenza

Reports of My Death

As the great Mark Twain once said “The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.” I’ve been in a space where my thoughts weren’t fit for public consumption, in my opinion anyway.

I finally decided in hindsight that I had the flu. According to the CDC websites the main way to know if you have the flu or just a common cold is sudden onset. Well yeah! I define sudden onset as one minute you’re sipping martinis watching the sun set and an hour later you’re in an ambulance heading to the hospital. Kind of a rip off from mother nature. I think it should depart as rapidly as it came on, not drag out for weeks!

The most annoying part of this whole adventure was the complete brain freeze. I was going through snippets of things written over the past few weeks yesterday and have no recollection of writing them. I even did a few web searches of key words and phrases to see if it wasn’t something I wrote but copied for some reason. They sounded like things I’d say when in a really bitchy mood or way past the legal limit on alcohol. I’m glad I didn’t post them. Some things are better left unsaid or at least unsaid in a public forum.

Something that happened unheralded in December was the 3rd year anniversary of this blog. I can’t believe 3 years have passed since my first tentative “hello world.” It’s been a lot of fun and an ongoing learning experience.

One of the things that’s been torturing me is the “am I really a writer?” question. I got help on that score from an unexpected place. I was sitting there in a fog watching “Sister Act 2, Back in the Habit” and Whoopie said something to a young girl who could sing well but had doubts if that’s what she was supposed to do. Something to the effect of “Girl, if you wake up in the morning and the first thing you think about is singing, then you’re supposed to be a singer. That’s what you are meant to be.”

Well the first thing I think about in the morning, other that coffee, and the main thing I think about when I don’t have to be thinking about something else is writing. So like it or not I’m a writer. Fortunately I do like it.

Over the past 3 years I’ve watched other bloggers start and grow and go on to do fabulous things. Some have published books, stories, turned their blogs into a beehive of activity. My hat is off to all of you bloggers out there and your commitment to something that most people just don’t get. My blog seems to be putting along, but that’s OK. I love doing it and I’m going to continue.

Love to all of you. You’ll be hearing more from me as my brain gradually slips back into gear.

Am I a Hypochondriac?

Am I a hypochondriac? Probably not. But I’m always asking myself this question after a protracted illness. That may have something to do with my definition of a protracted illness. This amounts to anything more than 3 sneezes and 24 hours in bed. I tend to be hard on myself and view giving up and going to bed as a personal failing. Part of this is because once I do go there I don’t want to get up. Lounging in the boudoir is a comfortable lifestyle for a time but not a good life long habit.

 Hypochondria is a way of giving oneself, time and time again, a fresh start. It is a structuring principle masquerading as chaos, resolve disguised as fear, a way of appearing on the stage of your own life as if in a costume of a new character, in a scene you have scripted yourself. The Hypochondriacs – Nine Tormented Lives, Brian Dillon

Perhaps I am comedic hypochondriac. I take a gloomy view of my rebellious body and its assorted indignities, turn it on on end and laugh at the whole thing. I mean really. The most important moments of our lives; conception, birth, sex, giving birth,  illness and death are all accomplished with a great deal of grunting, screeching and moaning. Just in general an embarrassing assortment of animalistic behaviors that make me want to hide in a closet. Well I haven’t tried sex in a closet so even that place of  imagined security is not inviolate yet.

Hiding in the closet itself could invoke a whole new set of adventures in this house. Since the great bathroom reconstruction of 2011, our closets have taken to collapsing with enough noise to wake the dead. Or even me after I’ve taken my nite nite sleepy pill. My theory is that all the sledge hammering on the adjacent walls weakened the ancient support structures in the closets. It forces us to break down and clean out and reassemble the closets. So this is a good thing.

Anyway, I strayed from the hypochondria topic. All in all I don’t think I am one, I just got all morbid and morose from being sick for a week an a half. I’m reasonably sure I coughed the greater part of my brains out. And am extremely glad to know that, contrary to out dated beliefs about brain cells, I do not have a finite number of them and they will regenerate. So this morning I’m sitting outside sitting outside taking some fresh air and sunshine, grateful to be alive and approaching wellness. The journey on my way back to the land of the living.

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