Skip to main content

A Good Bad Day

I'm at Netcare Olivedale Hospital. My lungs and heart are playing games with me. 

I don't like this game anymore. 


Most days here are good. I have a stunning doctor.

I'm usually able to clown around, make silly videos, and I have made friends with the nursing sisters. 

People on Twitter have been supportive in different kinds of ways. I met some for the first time while in hospital. How sway? My son is alone at home, but hasn't gone hungry. (You know how teens would rather let their bodies dissolve before making food other than noodles.)

Friendships have been strengthened by this experience.


My dad, my awkward, black dad tells me he loves me, daily. He calls me. Daily. 


People comment on how I don't look sick at all (it's the constant supply of pure oxygen, I tell you!)

 

So convinced that I look cool here.

It's easy for someone else who's in the same situation I'm in, but who isn't dealing with things the same way, to judge themselves adversely, and believe that they are not positive enough. It's easy for us to compare our reactions and create mental ideas of how bad we are at things. 


Therefore it's important for me to say that yesterday, 20 Apr 2024, was what we can call a crappy day. 

Tri-ball exercise 

I received good news about weaning off oxygen supply. The physiotherapist was exceptionally friendly yesterday; we did some minor boxing exercises. Breathing training on my tri-ball improved, and I wasn't gasping for air after a mere shower. 

All good things. 

So, why was I not having a good day? Why was I in tears for most of it? 

I do not know. 

And later on, I decided that that's alright. 


I went on to crave comfort food. I had the appetite of a Babylonian king. Belteshazaar would be most proud!

One moment you're positive. The next you're hopeless. you feel guilty, you feel like life hates you. You may even be temporarily suicidal. None of those emotions make you who you are. They're always temporary. And no, we can't always choose to be happy. Sometimes anguish overwhelms us.

That's okay.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Not Without My Lola

  Activated charcoal, to bind the poison. Anti-parasite meds. Antibiotics.  Pain killers (on my request). A mineral drip. My baby is in hospital. I cannot see anything beyond Lola. Not yet anyway. She’s still 4 years old. We still have at least 10 more years, no? Her eyes are darting side to side. She’s not responding to anything, not even an ear massage. She’s just laying there, in her cage at the local vet hospital. Lola went from bouncing dog to a drooling mess. We couldn’t find her in the morning. She was discovered facing away from life, while seated on a muddy patch. She struggled to go into the house, and then still faced the wall when she got into my room. A five-minute drive to the vet felt like a mountainous train journey. The vet staff helped us get her to a doctor’s table and she was immediately taken to a “procedure room.” After the longest 30 minutes, it still needed to be clarified what the issue may be. But poisoning is the main suspect. We are in South Africa,...
Post a Comment
Read more

Race Rage Gape

1. "I love having her around, but seeing bits of her hair in the shower is unbearable! I want her to stay, but I just can't stand it. It's... gross." Faced with a dilemma seemingly so minor, Viera didn't have time to mull over her decision because her black tenant overheard the conversation and immediately felt unwanted. She eventually left. No amount of apologising and pseudo acceptance could glue that relationship back together. It was Humpty-Dumpty. Gone. I was disgusted with Viera and I let it be known, with the kindest words possible, of course. No use fueling an awkward storm, but we had to talk about it.  She doesn't hate black people, nor did she expect her own visceral reaction to seeing all the little coily black strands of hair in the shower she shared with her black acquaintance.  In her words, it wasn't that the hair was from a black person as much as it was a foreign sight. One that she could not stomach. She felt like her senses were invaded...
Post a Comment
Read more

Needles & Olives - Prequel to Now

Okay. This is where I unpeel. I've dragged you into my journey with health. You cheer me on, but you're not 100% sure what's going on. So here's a laundry list with a timeliness. Hopefully it will make certain sense.    1. Buckle up.   2006 - Pregnancy. Hypertension. Snoring. Acid reflux. 2007 onwards - Getting higher doses of hypertension medications and being told to lose weight. Medical apathy. 2018 - Iron deficiency started showing up. I was not aware, until later.  mid-2019 - Breathing difficulties manifest at odd times. Started on steroids. Important to remember.  2019 - Enlarged heart detected. 2029 (Dec) - Personal paranoia about SARSCOV2 hits high inside me. Causing me to be a hermit ahead of the lockdown. Feb 2020 - Asthma diagnosis. Fear of COVID19 contraction escalates. March 2020 - The cardiomegaly continues (fancy way of saying, “Your heart's too big and not in a good way.) 2020 - Partaking in the collective insanity. 2021 August - Vaccinated again...
Post a Comment
Read more