117 – and it drags on

I’m on a new diet. It’s the ‘yes I think I’ll have breakfast today, ohhhhhh well… maybe not’  diet. The very thought of food can make me retch or cramp up. Or I get a very distinct and specific craving for something and can’t stomach anything but that thing – for the last three days it’s been GF any-citrus cake and the grumpy Dutchman dutifully got me some – of course I didn’t want it when he finally got home. I am exhausted and manage small efforts of normality followed by long periods in bed.

I actually got to work on Friday. I felt better enough on Thursday night to be optimistic, planned my lessons, got my clothes sorted and packed my lunch. Got up and felt a bit blah – but that’s understandable. I ended up having to take my breakfast with me because I couldn’t finish it – this should have been a clue really. I’m a girl who finishes everything on her plate and then follows the crumbs back through to the kitchen to see if there’s anything else I can finish off. Anyway, breakfast never got finished, and I lasted as long as recess, then home to bed.

I have been told by fairly reliable sources, that Gastro bugs last longer in coeliacs – this doesn’t seem fair really – we already have gut issues – why add to the drama? But it makes sense. Coeliacs is an autoimmune disease and it makes sense that anything else would knock us on our asses. No ‘reserves’ to help up back up on to our heels you see.

I have spent since Tuesday night in and out of bed, sleeping, being impatient with the lads, not eating OR eating a whole dinner last night and regretting it immediately. I am shattered and can’t concentrate on anything for very long. It sucks balls. I dragged myself around the zoo this morning – it was my bloody idea – with the three Dutchmen but it wasn’t as much fun as it sounds.

My four year old is loving the captive audience though. He is already a non-stop talker – like actually non-stop and if it’s not words it’s his own special gobbledygook – and I don’t have the strength to fight him off at the moment or get a word in edgeways. He spent Friday evening bringing me a drawing every five minutes until he ran out of paper. It was quite sweet really. He comes to the bed and ‘announces his crimes’ at me. For example – he just came in clutching a ramekin and asked if he could have milk. (There has been a ban on milk anywhere but at the table because of the amount that ends up on the carpet). I said no, you know you can’t have milk. ‘Is that milk in the ‘cup’?’. ‘YES!’ he shouts gleefully and bolts – dripping milk as he goes all over the carpet – confident that I am not going to follow him.

I’ll show him. I’m going to text his father.

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113 – sick daze

There are some things that remain true in life no matter what you do;

  • Your best hair days will always be when you are alone – not seeing anyone and certainly with nowhere to go.
  • Your worst hair days will always coincide with important meetings, formal events and your most ‘public’ days.
  • When you have no money you will be bombarded with things you want to buy every where you go, ‘essential’ shoes, great dresses, new tattoos – whatever – you want it all!
  • When you do have a bit of disposable income you will find nothing you want.
  • People will always ‘pop in’ for a spontaneous catch up when the laundry couch is at its peak volume and height.
  • Conversely – when the house is spotless and looking like a photo shoot for ‘Your home and Garden’ everyone will be out of town.
  • There is always someone around when you fall off your heels.

I could go on but I won’t,

The same is true for teachers and illness. Mostly teachers don’t get sick during term time. We just power through because there’s so much to get through. Getting sick means lessons get shoved back, due dates are messed with and relief needs to be set. And setting meaningful relief is trickier than you think. So of course it makes sense that teachers get sick in the holidays and spend the time they have off recuperating. I thought I had gotten away with it this time – the lads got sick, some of my colleagues got sick, but I seemed to be cruising along scot-free this time!

Aha! The heavens laughed at me, it was not to be! You think you can just relax now you are back and school and busy as a busy thing? Not you! No. Not me.

On Tuesday night, high on homemade chocolate and small boy love, I got my boot camp gear all ready in its spot, packed my lunch for the next day and went off to bed to dream of upcoming meetings and the first day back of the mindfulness course on Wednesday night. I tossed and turned and couldn’t get comfortable all night, I was hot and achey and tired and yet unable to sleep.

I was already awake when my alarm went off at five (don’t worry I don’t normally get up at 5 – I was getting up early to put a casserole on for dinner because I was going to be out AGAIN that night and the poor GD had been doing all the dinners) so I got up, assembled the chicken casserole, changed in to my boot camp gear and drove off to boot camp. All the while feeling REALLY queasy and weird. I thought it was a case of too much homemade chocolate love – a hangover of sorts. But I felt SO weird sitting waiting in the dark for the other girls to arrive that I texted our instructor that I couldn’t do it that day and drove straight back home to bed.

I have not yet gotten out of bed, although I am now – after being very pathetic at the GD and him taking pity on me – eating a piece of peanut butter toast after nil by mouth for 48 hours. Up until about an hour ago all I had had was boiled water out of the jug because even the thought of anything else made me want to heave. Remember the lurgy the lads suffered while I was too far away to help in Christchurch? And me being more than a little pleased it wasn’t my problem in my blog afterwards? Well Karma is a motherfucking biatch.

Body aches, cramping, an essential ‘clearing out’ of my system from both ends, dizziness and headaches plagued me all day and night. I couldn’t lie in one position for too long because it hurt all of my joints so I slept fitfully, all the while very conscious of what I was missing at work – 72 emails later I may have caught up with what I need to be doing when I get back.

I am now feeling more human again (thank the goddes) but am still in bed because I’m not yet my ‘best self’. One of the weird side effects of this sort of illness though is that my skin isn’t red for once in my life, my tummy is flat like a teenage girls and my hair never looked so good! Go figure.

In about an hour I’ll go have a shower, wash my hair and face and go back to being the frizzy-haired, flakey, red-skinned, pot bellied foodtard you all know and love.

I have to go now – my children are literally crying over spilt milk and as they know I’m awake and semi-functioning I have to go and ‘mother’ them.