Meaningless Drivel



Saturday, June 27, 2009
I keep coming back to blogs. For creative writing, for journaling, for the posting of random and potentially, but unlikely, useful information. I think I may just be a blog addict.

And now ... I will pull an FBJ, and whine about absolutely everything that is bugging me this week.

Let's start this off by admitting that almost everything I'm going to whine about is entirely my own fault. But you may feel sorry for me if you like.
Two and a half weeks ago, I knew I was getting sick. It started with earaches and swelling all around my right ear. I developed a severe staph infection on the skin of my face. It moved to blocked sinuses, and soon progressed to a throat infection. At this point, honestly, the only thing that was NOT my fault, was the staph infection. I get those, thanks to a pair of skin conditions I get to live with.
The ears, the throat, the sinuses ... they can all be linked to allergy non-management, and the fact I started smoking again last year (dumbass).

I took three days off of work because I could not deal with public with my face in the shape it was. Once the infection was gone, I went back to work.
And then my lungs just decided they had enough with the smoking again, and even though I tried to fight it off for three days, on Friday I went into the hospital and was admitted for 5 days.

My OSATs were 86%, nudging up to 88% with an oxygen tube in. This is your PSA people! I'm only 33, and I damn near died. Stop smoking before it's too late!

I was released on Wednesday. I have to take large doses of prednisone for the next three weeks, and a strong antibiotic for another 4 days, yet. My blood sugar ranges around 8.8 to 16.5. But I'm not a diabetic, so I really don't know what that means. The doctor says it is part and parcel of the steroid package. I just know that I wander around in a hell of a brain fog every day now, and I can't sleep.

And eating. OH MY GOD. I'm eating I can get my grubby hands on. It's not funny. My husband looks at me like I'm going to explode any minute. Hell, I feel like I'm going to explode any minute, and yet I'm sitting here trying to think of what I want to eat.
And I can't poop.

Kris - 8:50 PM

Friday, October 28, 2005
On one of my forums, somebody I admire suggested that somebody should journal the struggle of living with a chronic illness, or something like that. Note that it's not myself that is dying with this disease, it is my mother-in-law, Kathleen. But I'm living with her, and I'm watching her die. And I'm emotionally able to do this whereas nobody else here is.

So what this is, is my experiences, my life, and my thoughts and emotions while watching my mother-in-law die. It's all about me. Me, me, me. Well, not really. It's about her. Okay, maybe I'm not emotionally able to handle journalling her illness.

Kris - 3:10 PM

Saturday, March 20, 2004
Yeah, SFO stands for Struggle For Organization in case you were wondering. I'm sure not knowing would have kept you up at night.

Seven boxes of junk brought up, two lamps that haven't worked in years with broken glass shades, and a garbage bag full of , well ... garbage. That didn't even hurt too bad. So far.

Yes, it's the basement, my catch-all storage room that I'm cleaning out now. Dave has been harping at me for years to do it, and every year it just gets fuller and fuller. This year was the final straw. There is no more room down there at all, everything is piled wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, and it's not even in any kind of order. So I'm getting rid of the obvious crap first, then I suppose I'll sort what's left.

Kris - 5:12 PM


Okay, here we go.

I am a hoarder.

I keep EVERYTHING. I buy useless fribbles that make their way into the basement or boxes and sit for years. I save broken pieces just in case I can fix them. In a fit of anger I'll throw a broken some-piece out only to keep the rest just in case the missing piece magically resurfaces. I have dozens of candle stubbs because someday my children might try candle-making for fun (it's never happened).

I have the innards to tape recorders, VCRs, televisions, and radios ... all because I might need some obscure part to fix one of the eight working television sets I keep around (two of which have the cord cut or chewed off). I have 38 cassette tapes that have the inner tape all pulled out, but I loved the music on it so I'll keep them all. Never mind that I download all my music these days.

I have 80-some empty boxes, and that number grows every time I go shopping. I have notebooks from my grade school days that have only three blank sheets of paper in them. I have broken puppy collars, t-shirts with holes in them, baby clothes I wouldn't put on my baby unless we lived in the streets, and bottles for the baby I won't be having. Empty pill bottles, empty shampoo bottles, empty crap all over.

Do you get the picture now? I simply can not bring myself to throw things out. I have been a hoarder for my entire adult life, that's ten years now. As a child, Mother tells me I used to hoard food, in case of World War III. I remember hoarding food, I think I was simply hungry though.

Oh yeah. I blew off my skin diet. I am just too fond of food. Apparently I overdid the post-diet celebration because I gained 15 pounds since I started eating REAL food a week ago. Oops.

Kris - 5:07 PM

Friday, March 05, 2004
Hmm ... what a lovely thing to contemplate. Am I starving to death? Unlikely, but it sure feels lik it.

Dave laughed at me when I told him about my new diet. He said "Great idea! It only took, what ... three years to think of it?" Rotten, evil man. It's true though. I just could not bring myself to it. In other words, I have absolutely no will power whatsoever. I LOVE food. Sauces, chinese food, mexican food, indian food, southern dishes, pasta .... I could go on and on. I just love food. It broke my heart to clamp down on my wayward desires and restrict myself. Now it's been a whole THREE days and I nearly have myself convinced that a very large plate of chicken chow mein won't hurt a bit.

Eric is also on strict food restrictions, but not as heavy since we already know what causes his face to break out : soy. So we are just restricting his soy intake again. Unfortunately that also leaves out most of his favourite foods. The few heads that popped up on his cheeks have almost completely healed already.

Kris - 8:42 PM

Tuesday, March 02, 2004
Soy is evil. Soy has taken over the world.
Do you know that soy and soya products are in practically everything these days? Corn too. No wonder I'm a miserable bitch. There goes all my favourite foods down the drain. Damn soy. I shall my revenge!

Kris - 9:21 AM


Is it a bad omen that my fingers, all but one, escaped the scourge of itching and blisters? Especially when that one is my ring finger (with wedding ring)? If I have to take my rings off (all my others are gone) I'll give up and starve myself to death.

Kris - 9:14 AM


Kathleen (MIL) left yesterday but supposedly she'll be back tomorrow or Thursday. she's feeling at loose ends now, since she quit her home-care nursing, and Phil has gone off to school in Toronto, and Rye working 5 days a week in Timmins. It gets lonely rattling around in a house, and she doesn't even have dogs to keep her company, just Dusty, a 15 year old cat.

I have hit my pain threshold now. I don't think I can take much more of this. Three nights now my skin has been gving me hell, and bloody sheets in the morning are theleast of my pains. I'm lucky if I can walk in the morning. This morning I could neither bend now straighten my arms because of the overnight scabbing. I'msure the gouges are infected, but Polysporin and all the steroid creams make the itch worse. I'm beyond desperate now.

I put myself on a heavy diet. Nothing, absolutely nothing but fruit, special breads and meat. No gravy, sauces, cheese, anything, just plain meat, plain bread (no butter/margarine) and plain fruit. No more dairy of any kind now (had to eat my birthday before I axed that from my list), so no more breakfast. Christ I hurt like a sonofabitch. Fuck fuck fuck, even my face was shredded.

Kris - 9:12 AM

Tuesday, February 24, 2004
My mother-in-law is here until next Saturday, she arrived on Sunday. I love her to death, I really do, but it's just like living with MY mother again. Yes, they are two peas in a pod (good thing I love my mother) and best friends too. And I am likely the world's WORST housekeeper, skating the edge of messy and dirty, and I'm lazy too. Oh yes, and I can not cook to save my life. I'm sure she thinks I am a terrific wife. I don't clean up for her son, I don't feed her son, and I'm demanding and evil.

Kris - 9:46 AM

Saturday, February 21, 2004
Awesome! I just bought tickets to see Metallica in May, at the Winnepeg Arena. I rock! It was just a stroke of luck that I happened to be looking up concerts for later this summer.

My friend Bonnie and I have gone to Winnepeg every year for three years (this is year 4). My first concert, ever, was AC/DC. It was unbelievably awesome! Then it was Ozzy Osbourne twice in a row, this year's winner is Metallica. I can't wait.

I thought for a while that our annual concert trip would be at an end since Bonnie moved from Kenora back home here, but hey ... where there's a will, there's a way, and for Metallica, there's DEFINITELY a way!

Kris - 7:53 PM

About this Blog Whatever the flavour of the month is. Heh.

About Me: I'm a 29 year old stay-at-home mother to three children. I married my soulmate on Canada Day 2003, after nearly ten years of procrastinating, and I'm still stuck in that newlywed glow. Our home is made in cool Northwestern Ontario, on the tip of Lake Superior, in a small town with three big dogs.

I have a few grand passions. Dave and our offspring are definitely number One in my heart, with dogs coming in a close second. I love to read, and I love to write, and I spend much of my time doing both.

The Great Outdoors calls me constantly, and if I had my way, I would drop all the comforts of civilization in a heartbeat to live out in the bush, miles from anything. I can't do that, so I have to settle for spending our summers in the bush, in an ancient motorhome.



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