Hello, All. I have been a flop zombie for the last four days. I pushed myself too far, like a moron, and paid the price. When I was sick, I got like this a lot, except with excruciating pain. I should count my blessings. So I will! I am quite healthy now, for the most part; I just have to be careful to not over extend myself physically. A rheumotologist is absolutely convinced I have Lupus, but since I tested negative for it seven times, I refuse to believe that possibility. Even if I have it, I had a full hysterectomy back in 1997 and most Lupus symptoms are far less severe after you get rid of the girly pipes. I have no girly pipes anymore. My daughter Rhianna is healthy and happy and in constant contact with me. I am back in my beloved New York, surrounded by most beloved friends, I believe I'm falling in love again for the first time in decades (scared to death but optimistic), and my book is coming out in the next few weeks, according to the publishers. Yee Haa!
One of the interesting things about being this ill for the first time in over ten years is: I am a complete chickenshit about it. This surprised me. Few things turn my guts to ice anymore that aren't family related, but this bout of flop zombie weakness has scared the hell out of me. Last night, I was vomiting so hard I burst blood vessels in my face. I felt my eyes going (when I was sick, I'd burst vessels in the whites of my eyes and get that Black Swan look) so held my hands over my eyes to try and hold them in. They stayed white. I haven't been sick to my stomach from exhaustion for a long, long time either. I knew I was pushing it; not yet fully recovered from the pneumonia but sure, I'll pick up two double shifts and an open in a row. It was foolish but I'm not beating myself up about it, as I would have done a decade ago. I'll just be more careful from now on. In the meantime, there's something to be gleaned from all this gut wrenching terror over such a small thing - I slept over twelve hours last night and am much better already - and that is, it's okay to be a chickenshit as long as I keep going forward. And that's what I plan on doing. Life is a series of steps, stumbles and fumbles. I dropped the ball but I reached down and grabbed it up again. I'm running forward with a whole mass of zombies from the past trying to get me and have a nice Rebecca smorgasbord. Fortunately, they're slow as hell and I'm a lot quicker than I used to be. A few more days of super sleep and I should be right as rain again. But I'll listen to my body a little more and stop beating this horse when it's dead on the ground. Sorry I haven't blogged in a while. Will be back and hopefully eloquent soon. Take care.