Some Tips On Negotiating A Lonely Food Poisoning

There’s that gurgle that bubbles in your stomach. It doesn’t hurt but you definitely feel it and you certainly can hear it. You pay it no mind, but it persists, then starts to cramp. You go to the loo, but it doesn’t help. Nothing comes out … yet.  You start to feel it push up into your throat and you keep swallowing and taking deep breaths. You think that you might have it under control but then you sneeze or cough or worse you laugh … You grab your mouth and in a mad dash to the toilet or nearest waste basket **BLLEEEEEAAAAUUUGGHHHHACK … BLLEEEAH … ACK … *sigh* … BLLEEEEEAAAAUUUGGHHHHACK … BLEEEH BLEEH … UGH … ACK …** The point of no return. RJb2t A list of everything you ate in the last 48 hours races through your head. Was it the tuna? The egg salad? Naw, it couldn’t be, you didn’t have tuna or egg salad! What did you eat? Homemade beef stew, stewed to an inch of it life? Had a chocolate muffin freshly baked? Raw veggies – cucumbers, turnips,  sweet potatoes … aah shyte … that sweet potato tasted like Granny’s perfume. You threw away the lot, … or I should say I did … That didn’t help any, the devilish deed was done! I had food poisoning … yay … The most upsetting part about getting my most recent bout with food poisoning was that I am living alone and on my own. And the worst part about being on your own with food poisoning was cleaning up when it splatters or when you miss. There’s a whole strategy that you have to employ. No you can’t just lay curled up on the bathroom floor shivering, thriving in pain, or sitting awkwardly on the toilet while hanging your head over the tub or in a bucket. No, no none of that, because there isn’t another person there to clean up, there isn’t another person there to make sure your at least sipping water to stay hydrated, or to make sure there’s enough toilet paper. There isn’t that other person to tell you what day it is, what time it is, that your not dreaming, and those are not purple flying monkeys hanging off the ceiling. There isn’t that person there to draw the line and say; “OK, I’m taking  you to the emergency room!”

When you’re on  your own, you need to plan ahead as much as you can while you can. There isn’t much time but it is manageable. First things first is that you have to admit that you are sick and that there will be accidents. You will throw up on your shirt, the walls, the floors and you will poop your pants. It will splatter, and you will miss. In your misery you will not comprehend the actual passage of time and forget that although you may be living alone there are people that will assist you. So here’s some things you can do: Breath and focus. If you cannot manage the sickness into controlled outburst then you need to go to the hospital. Use large towels instead of blankets and pillows. They’re easier to wash. Lay down newspaper for easier clean up.  fb1 Put a plastic bag, or trash bag in the bucket/pot/bin that you have next to the bed or your head for barf. That way all you have to do is drain the bag and throw it out and replace it without cleaning out the container. Keep that container with you at all times. Make sure it’s a container you can in a sense “sit on” or wide enough for poor bottom aim. fb2 If you decide to spend time in bed lay down a couple of large plastic garbage bags on the mattress then cover with towels. Wear old undies that you don’t mind throwing out. Face it, there just may be leakage and you don’t want to ruin your mattress. Keep a glass, a bottle of water next to you and keep sipping water. Set an alarm to take a sip every 15 min or whatever increment suits. There’s a lot of this remedy and that potion, this food, that drink that every Tom Dick and Harry will say that you need. If I made any other suggestions other than water I’m sure someone will sue me. So you choose, but at least have the water.  I had lemon water with a little sea salt in it and a jar of honey with a little spoon. When I was awake every hour I would take a sip of lemon water and a drop of honey. Please don’t sue me because I told you what I did. Warm-Water-with-Lemon-and-Honey Stay connected! These days it’s really easy! As much as I feel that Facebook is the bane of human existence, it has become a necessary evil and a good tool to use in this case. Let people know that you are on your own and ill. Post every so often, comment, let people know your progress. It doesn’t have to be Facebook, it can be texting someone you know that doesn’t mind responding. Staying connected is your safety net. Staying connected is your cheerleader, your motivation to hang in there. Staying connected will let them know if they need to intervene and haul your ass to the hospital. Remember that it’s better if it’s out of your body. And if this is happening your body is working properly. So be happy! YaY! Food Poisoning! EVERYTHING IS WORKING BEAUTIFULLY! xTgnj6GTA You might be asking why did I write this. It’s rather gross and for many TMI! Honestly, I don’t know why I wrote this. I really don’t. I just got over experiencing a 4 day food poisoning horror movie and I suppose I wanted to share my … I don’t know, pain? Struggles? … eh… Well, I hope if anything it may help someone who may read this, or bring a bit of levity to a quite literally a crappy situation.

This Is Neat!

http://stancarey.wordpress.com/2014/12/22/nope-intensifies-diversifies-grammatically/

Copy and pasted the link ‘coz I don’t know how to re-blog properly, or that it didn’t give me a runway with flashing lights so that I can land the re-blog jet.

I Should Have Known … But I Guess I Did …

So I wrote this some time in 2012 I suspect. September maybe? It was titled “An Email To My Husband”. I lost it somewhere deep in the RAM or ROM of the Apple. I vaguely remember leaving it by the worm eating the bug with all the bites. It’s odd reading it. Especially now that the parchments have been delivered by carrier pigeon to the demigods ordained by the immaculate rubber stamp.  I Should Have Known … But I Guess I Did …

This isn’t a “Dear John” letter. You’re names’ not john. … Ha, ha … I know, it’s stupid. I still got a giggle out of it though.

I know that you hate long emails. I’ve tried to talk to you but … *sigh* … you did what you always do. You want the “short version”, you grump and look very annoyed, you do the “speed it up” hand gesture, I get flustered, I try to put it in a nutshell , but I end up leaving out the important points and reasons … you jump to conclusions, and make assumptions, with the end result of you being frustrated, & angry. So I quit and obsess silently over how can I tell you so that you will understand where I’m coming from.

…That’s if we get that far. Maybe it’s because I ask? “Can we talk about this?” The hackles go up and the eyes roll. I did try a few time to just start talking about it all, but stopped when you yelled at the computer. You accidentally put yourself in check on your internet chess game. … There was one time I though I was getting somewhere, but you were staring at the computer, so I said that there was man phuc’ing a poodle out on Grand Parade. … You nodded and said “Uh-huh.”

I know that I ramble, even babble. –  I’m long winded. I want to explain, with reason. I want to have a conversation, meaning you talk too. But I don’t know how to do this with you … *sigh* … We’re broken, and I don’t know what to do …

I knew something was off that Thanksgiving so long ago. We’ve been dating for 10 months. The longest relationship you’ve had since, and you tell me that you’re going to spend Thanksgiving with your friend and her family ‘cos that’s what you always do. I was hurt and upset and I couldn’t seem to explain to you that I was. I tried to understand, but why you didn’t want to spend Thanksgiving with your girlfriend? We ended up spending the day together, but to this day I still wonder if it wasn’t because she didn’t invite you, because she knew about me.

We’ve always been very independent from each other. We weren’t “in each others pockets” as the Irish would say … or at least that’s what they say here in Cork. I reveled in the freedom, even gloated how enlightened we were not to  be bound together with rules or ultimatums. But there was always something amiss. I found myself alone more often than not. Even in times of celebration, esp. in times of celebrating my achievements albeit small. … You never danced with me … Gosh, how I miss dancing … I justified it my head, said it over and over again until it rolled of my tongue as easily as the rain rolling off leaves. “Although I would like him to be more attentive, I can’t deny the independence and freedom that I have.” … Repeat … Repeat  … Repeat … *Sigh* …

We chased a dream together, so I thought, moved to Ireland and started a business, got married … got married …

Then, not more than a year or so later, there was mutiny, a disturbance in the force, and our business was caught in the middle. We were bullied, brutally bullied. Money was so, so tight largely because of your condo that you for some reason wouldn’t let go of. You did put it up on the market but did nothing to sell it. You had to barrow money from your parents to keep up the mortgage payments. There was not a light at the end of the tunnel, there was no tunnel, not to mention the growing black mold in the our rented hovel. It stands to reason that you would spiral down into a deep depression and despise everything that brought you to that point, including me. I’m not a psychologist or a psychotherapist.  Not a mind reader either, though that would be really cool! I started a new chant “I’ll make it better, I’ll fight the war, I’ll prove that the dream is still alive.” … Repeat … Repeat  … Repeat … *Sigh* …

I was winning! … I am winning … I WON! … While I was in the trenches though, you decided to leave, … not me … just leave.

You went behind my back and contacted your old boss to see if you can get your old job back. You told me that he approached you. You wanted to go back, but you told me that you were torn so I thought there was hope. That if things were better here then the choice would be obvious.  You wanted to leave but you couldn’t tell me that because then, you wouldn’t have anything to fall back on. You strung me along, weaving your safety net. I knew that you wanted to leave but unless you actually say it, I would only be acting on assumption. For 6 months you dragged it out. For 6 months I tried to prove to you that we can still make things work here. Knowing that my efforts were futile, knowing that you were stringing me along, knowing that you wanted to leave … Well, some days …

Well they offered you your old job back and only then did you say to me that you were definitely leaving. Finally we can talk and come up with a plan … finally … finally … We weren’t going to split up, you were going to go back and get your condo and financial dilemmas  sorted and I was going to hold down the fort and make “our” business grow. It was an easy adjustment to make. We had our independence and freedom. We had space and who says that we have to live together to love and support each other? … You were so happy, and it was such a long time since I last saw you happy. … You agreed that you would come back in 3 years, … when you had absolutely no intentions of doing so. Aaahhhhh, who can blame you? I left the back door wide open.

Now we live in 2 different countries on either side of the world, and I find myself alone more often than not. Even in times of celebration, esp. in times of celebrating my achievements albeit small. I find myself chanting that old line; “Although I would like him to be more attentive, I can’t deny the independence and freedom that I have.” … Repeat … Repeat  … Repeat … *Sigh* … But it doesn’t roll of the tongue so easily now. I would have thought with all the ways of staying connected that I would hear more from you. Not a constant stream on Skype watching each other sleep, but something more than and hour on a Sunday ‘coz that’s your “day for calling people”. … I can count how many times you said “I love you” without being prompted on one hand … “Although I would like him to be more attentive, I can’t deny the independence and freedom that I have.” … Repeat … Repeat  … Repeat … *Sigh* …

You still haven’t told your boss that your wife, your wife being me, is still living in Ireland. You told me that you would flip for my plane tix to your Brothers wedding, but you didn’t and I was left telling them that I couldn’t make it. You complained when I asked if I can get on your insurance. I visit you 3x a year, might as well get a Dr appointment in, but it would cost you too much money. You couldn’t even bring yourself to introduce me to your soccer teammates when I last visited. You choked when one of them asked if we were a couple. It was your Brother that did all the introductions, it was my Brother-In-Law that told everyone that I came all the way over from Ireland to watch the game.

I’ve accomplished a lot since you left. I won the war. I made a name for myself and “our” business. I have achieved more than I or anyone could have imagined.  So, in that hour of Skype’ing frenzy I tell you as precisely as I can so to avoid the “speed it up” hand gestures and “in a nutshell” demands. I tell you with all the excitement of a child winning their first race all that I accomplished, all that I’ve achieved in that week. … “Ah yeah, that’s nice.” … I post on that damn Facebook and if I’m lucky I just might get a “like” from you. It makes me sick to my stomach whenever I see a post of a husband praising his wife. … I’m so jealous … You can’t even publicly acknowledge that I’m your wife. I get sicker still when I get a message saying something like “Oh your husband must be really proud of you!” about something that I had achieved that past by you completely unnoticed. I’m completely mortified when I get messages from people questioning your support or even your existence. … “Although I would like him to be more attentive, I can’t deny the independence and freedom that I have.” … Repeat … Repeat  … Repeat … *Sigh* …

Why are you pulling this whole Jeremy McGuire act on me? Except there’s no happy ending with this. Why are blowing me off as if you want to pretend that I didn’t exist?

Yet Another New Year’s Proclamation

I’m a little late in the uptake of my New Year’s Resolutions this year… I have to say 2014 was … not that bad. I know it’s shocking. The current trend with many people is to bash 2014, or any year previous for that matter.  “Oh! What a horrible year! Good riddance! 2014 sucked! 2014 kicked my ass! I hate you 2014! Can’t wait for 2015! Bring it on 2015!“… At least that’s what I read on Facebook so it must be true right? 2014 was a BAD BAD year! … Thlpt! …

I have every reason to hate 2014. My Mother’s lymphoma came back and was on her death bed. She was scheduled for a stem cell transplant at the beginning of the year, but both her and my Brother decided to cut off all communications with me until just recently when my Mother calls me on Thanksgiving. She left a message. At least I know that she’s alive. … now … Still haven’t talked with her despite the phone calls. My husband, now my soon to be exe, reached new heights of being an ass. (See blog post “Let’s Talk”) So yeah, we’re getting a divorce. I hear through the grape vine that my Father who I have not heard from since May of 2013 regardless of the the monthly letters I posted, decided in Sept 2013 to move but neglected to tell me where. Still no word from him.

Crazy complications in business transfer, bill transfer, and residency. Money is always an issue and there were weeks where I was counting my potatoes. The stress pushed my diabetes over the edge where I now needed to be on medication. The Doctors found cancer cells floating around … “No, no you don’t have cancer yet.” YET!?!? What the GEEE WHIZ!? The community magazine that I founded and have worked on for over 2 years. A magazine that had a readership of over 1000 and growing came under fire twice. I managed to save it the first time but lost the 2nd time. The powers to be pulled the funding. It was soul breaking to know why. To know that the people that I touted as being strong, and resourceful, the people that always found a way when there was the will, got scared and desperate and cut off their noses to spite their faces. Their ears too apparently, right after they shot themselves in the foot. Then there were my “friends” that kept shaving off layers of my thick skin until it was paper thin. They jammed my detachment super power button so that when they used me as a punching bag, the punches could sink in deeper.

To top it all off, to find out that potential suitors are afraid of me because I can kick their asses. Go ahead and laugh. It certainly does sound funny! And it wasn’t just one mind you, it was a few of them. Honestly, I can kick everyone’s ass, but I don’t. That says a lot right there! Don’t you think? Still it cut me to the quick. People have been afraid of me all my life. They were afraid of that half breed jungle monkey Charlie in the trees gook from Viet-Nam. The product of a war they lost. They were so afraid that I wasn’t allowed inside, or to sit at the table or any table. I had to sit on the floor to eat my dinner. They were so afraid that they didn’t help when I was being ganged up on and beaten to a bloody pulp. They were so afraid that I had to put fishing hooks in my pony tail braid to keep the bullies at bay. They were so afraid that they couldn’t accept that I accomplished anything and made up excuses why I did. “You’ll sue them if they didn’t give you … You forced them … It was a quota … Who did you sleep with to get that? … “ I did hoped that we as the human race had progressed beyond that, but I guess not.

Now that’s one perspective, one aspect. Here’s another perspective, another aspect that I think I’m gonna go with… I gracefully got out of a destructive marriage and relationship. What luck to have a doctor that was doing research on diet and diabetes and allowed me to be part of the research as a test subject, where basically my medical expenses were free. I was put on a very specific diet catered to me and for the last 6 months have not had to go on insulin or any other medication. I lost 30lbs and now all my tight fitting clothes hang off me like gunny sacks. With all the money issues, I still have a roof over my head, and food on the table albeit a small amount of food, but I’m certainly not starving. Business transfer was successful, and I applied for citizenship, so hopefully in the next few weeks I’ll have my new passport. I got to enjoy one of the best Summers Ireland has had in a long time. Even got a great tan that I’m still sporting a faded version of. I’ve traveled. I went to Belfast and the Giant’s Causeway and it was magnificent! I was in a parade, a Halloween parade no less!  I’ve met some beautifully interesting people and had incredible conversations. Even met someone who would put all you so called “Whovians” to shame! And I discovered just how much I can take, and man oh man, Atlas step aside ‘coz not only can I hold up the sky but everything above and below it! But my skin got thin, my knees did shake, and I bled a lot…

So my New Year’s Resolution(s)? Well, among other things, I’m resolving to be meaner. No joke there. I’m going to allow myself to be mean and angry. I’m going to allow myself to put my foot down and make no excuses. And when I say “meaner” I’m not talking about causing any harm, but tougher with more intent. I’ve catered to the sensitivities of others far too much, stifled my anger and compromised myself as a result. Time for me to step up and join the rakes of the feisty middle aged battle axe. I will lose “friends” this year, but I’m not bothered.

A note to all those that I call friend and to all those that call me friend. I will be your escape goat, I will be your punching bag, a shoulder to cry on, and I’ll even be your door mat. We are friends and I will do all this with no complaint. We are friends so you know that I would never intend to do you any harm physically, mentally, or emotionally. If there is anything that I say or do that may have you think otherwise, DO NOT ASSUME! Please talk with me, ask questions. We are friends, so I know your qualifications in this or that. There’s no need to rub my nose in your accomplishments, smother me with your resume/CV, or jam your degree(s) down my throat. Since we are friends we will never beg for each others attention, approval, or acceptance. That is a given. If felt that I needed to, or have to, then I will simply walk away because at that point we are no longer friends. … Let say that won’t happen. Let resolve that won’t happen. Let’s resolve that won’t ever happen. We are friends so lets be and do as friends are.

And so it is. That’s my New Year’s Proclamation 2015. Fingers crossed I can live up to it!

Off The Cell – December 2014

Dec7

 

My Back Garden, Cork City, Ireland, December 2014

 

 

Dec1

Mardyke, Cork City, Ireland, December 2014

 

Dec2

Upper Pouladuff Road, Cork City

 

Dec3

On The Footpath From The Atlantic Pond To Rochestown

Cork City, Ireland, December 2014

 

Dec4

On The Footpath From The Atlantic Pond To Rochestown

Cork City, Ireland, December 2014

 

Dec5

On The Footpath From The Atlantic Pond To Rochestown

Cork City, Ireland, December 2014

 

Dec6

Grand Parade, Cork City Centre, Ireland, December 2014