Health, guilt and recovery plus another cheat
How does one value health? More importantly, how does one get it back? Not the generic “one”, specifically me! Between the coughing and the codeine I am trying to write what I feel about myself and how frustrated I feel.
If that isn’t your cup of tea (tea is always good for the sick) then I have some options for you! Three great articles relating to women and the USA elections by some very astute people. I did this cheat stuff about a month ago in Pain and writing are not good house-mates, so here is a cheat! and given I really, really liked the articles below I’m sharing them with you.
- Are men wrecking sport for women? – Ben Pobjie. Ben claims to be a comedian, but he sure writes some serious stuff for a comedian.
- How women voters became the King makers – Jane Caro. I watched Jane on QandA once and was instantly a fan!
- Florida, I do declare – Diane Roberts. Diane pretty much confirms what Dr Paul Lehman commented on my article about western civilisation yesterday.
If you have decided to share my miserable complaining venting, let’s get to it. I was SO pissed off yesterday I vented my frustration on Twitter. Twitter was about the only thing that kept me sane yesterday, between my bouts of codeine-fuelled napping. I am not good at doing absolutely nothing. That and checking on the USA election results, of course. Twitter requires a short attention span and with a limit of 140 characters, massive brain power is an optional extra.
Venting on Twitter
50,000 approaches
50,000 page views is just around the corner. I am sitting here reflecting and wondering where to now with Love versus Goliath. We’ve come a long way and the book is coming along. Maybe not as fast as I’d like, but I have a full-time job and a large family. There are only so many hours in the day and strangely enough I like to sleep for at least a few hours out of 24.
I’m now gleaning writing tips from anywhere I can. Thank you to our readers who gave me links to some very valuable resources! I try to spend Sunday mornings writing and aim to get 3,000 words done. This isn’t as little as it sounds, as my writing is more about revising, editing and expanding much of this website text, which runs in at well over 100,000 words. I am not starting from scratch. I have the characters, but I have to paint them on paper to our audience. The plot is factual, I don’t have to make it up, but I do have to construct how I relate those facts.
I have learnt that authors need to have a social media presence: thankfully Kristen Lamb says a web site and Twitter are sufficient (see the comments)! Just as well, because as much as I probably shouldn’t say this and I am sure Raincoaster will chastise me, I find some other social media platforms VERY HARD WORK! Is that an age-related perspective, or just because there are not enough hours in the day? 
I thought Google+ might be a more mature platform than Facebook (the people, not the technology) but I am yet to be convinced!
Bedtimes for children and teenagers
Comfy Bed
Bedtimes. The bane of many parents’ existence. Back in the days before electricity we ALL got way more sleep than we do in the modern era. I am a firm believer in the benefit of enough good quality sleep! 100 years ago we slept about two to three hours longer than we do today.
Sleep research suggests that a teenager needs between nine and 10 hours of sleep every night. This is more than the amount a child or an adult needs. Yet most adolescents only get about seven or eight hours. Some get less.
Light plays an important part in establishing or disrupting sleep patterns. As the above article goes on to say:
Light cues the brain to stay awake. In the evening, lights from televisions, mobile phones and computers can prevent adequate production of melatonin, the brain chemical (neurotransmitter) responsible for sleep.
Of course, we all have all of those things. As I write, Mr O is trying valiantly to send teenagers, who have fallen asleep on the couch at 8:45 pm, to bed. Early for a Friday night, but if they are falling asleep, bed is where they need to be!
To spoon or not to spoon, that is the question!
I risk incurring my darling husband’s wrath here, but I am sure this is a problem that plagues many married couples! This weekend, starting Friday afternoon, my back decided to behave in a manner befitting only an 80-year-old back. I was not impressed as I was in considerable pain.
I'm the curled up figure in the corner!!!
Mr O is a spooner. Mrs O is not a spooner. Mrs O is also not an artist, but this is my feeble attempt to depict how I woke up this morning! Remember the 80-year-old back! I woke Mr O to point out where his VERY LONG legs actually were! I felt so bad when his sleepy, very romantic response was, “I want to touch my wife. Are you not my wife?”. How can I stay disgruntled at my lack of space after that?
I’m just one of those people that likes my space when I am asleep!
Those of us old enough to remember will recall 1950s American TV programmes, where parents NEVER slept in a double/queen/king bed, but always in twin beds with a side table between the beds. They probably never had this problem!
I love that Mr O loves to snuggle, it is romantic and very loving. Just I can’t sleep snuggled!!!
Hmmmmmmmmmmm – perhaps I’ll just have to adjust/adapt over time! 
At least he doesn’t snore – which is a wonder and a miracle!
Just one of the lighter aspects of married life.
Related:
The Hug and Roll (eslmarriage.com)
Finally, a normal life
Image via Wikipedia
But what, exactly, is a “normal life”? As many friends have said over the years, indeed as I have asked over the years, define “normal”? Normal will mean something different to each and every one of us. Normal will mean something different to, I am sure, each and every one of my family.
I looked back at my article of yesterday. Compared to last year, we are now normal, or as close to normal as I can assess normal to be. We are all together in the one house. The kids go to school every day. Yes, we have the “normal” family issues. Read more 
Nervous tension
I have to say my nerves are raw. Today I’ve been back at the osteopath. She worked on my back, hips, shoulder and neck. My left shoulder is taped. You name a body part and things were not good. I still have a swollen left leg, which we are hoping may be due to squashed lymph nodes in my groin. I’m sure hoping that is all it is. I actually can’t get a normal shoe on that left foot any more.
My mobile phone rang several times today and as soon as I answered it the caller hung up. That didn’t help my nerves any.
As I write, it is Monday night here. This is supposed to be THE week, finally. I’m so scared that it won’t be: that something will cause a delay of some sort. I’ve been through this several times before and I really, really do not want to go through the pain and devastation yet again of another delay. I can’t image what it would do to the children and to my husband. My husband seems to have the patience of Job: I think it is genetic. I’m not sure he would cope well though, if there is another delay. I think the children would just be devastated. They have been so long without a stable home environment.
Writing to find strength
I make no claims that this article will make any sense. I am writing merely to try to find some balance, some sanity in my life. Letting my thoughts flow in the hope doing so will help me find strength. Writing is my therapy, I have to do it. I wrap my writing around me like a blanket of protection. Protection from the pain. I see it is month ago today I wrote I Feel Brittle.
The shock of last night was immense for me. I had no choice but to go to the pharmacy and fill my Mirtazapine prescription. I will be back at the psychologist on Friday night. That means another doctor’s appointment to get another referral. More taxpayers’ dollars, as I have discussed before – the hidden costs to the economy. The Mirtazapine make a person sleep, but that is about the only benefit for me. The medication doesn’t solve the anxiety, fear or anguish. As the medical professionals have all agreed, my health is situational. Solve the situation and my health will return (I’m not so sure about my physical health though). I weaned myself off these damn things nearly five months ago, as they weren’t making me feel any better and just made me foggy in the head. I can’t be foggy and work effectively. This is a side-effect of taking the drug for the wrong reasons, I am told. That is, they are designed to correct a chemical imbalance in the brain for those with chronic depression. If a patient doesn’t have a chemical imbalance in the first place (e.g. their problem is situational, like mine) then the brain fogginess can be the result.
