Will

There are days when the will to live is dealt a severe blow. When you are consistently shadowed by a big black dog, the blow may be something small to ordinary man, but as far as you’re concerned you may as well have had a house fall on you.

I had every intention of being to work for nine this morning. I even managed an early night by being in bed and light out before 11pm. I was up, showered and all animals fed and watered by 8pm, I was parking the car outside number 16 by ten past eight.

First blow. Number 16 is nearly three-quarters of kilometre away from the station. It’s pretty much as close as you can get. At that time I should have been down around number 6 or 8, but these big houses have wide street frontage and I was basically twice as far away as I should have been.
I had to run down the hill for the train.

Second blow. There were men in uniform checking tickets. Stopping everyone. I had to dig in my bag for my weekly, usually done on the train between stations and just before I get off the train. Today, I missed the train I was aiming for by a couple of seconds.

It was OK…the next train would get me into the office just after 9am.

If only the train hadn’t been significantly delayed due a mechanical failure.

I stepped on the train at 8.44.

I got into the office at 9.38. And the desk I was supposed to be sitting at was occupied. At least the computer was. So I had to hunt for a spare desk.

My will to live on a scale of 1 – 10 is currently sitting at about 4.

And yes, I'm aware on the grander scale of world problems it ranks roughly as a nothing. It's my world I concerned with right this minute. I'll deal with bigger issues later, when I'm feeling up to it.

I really hate days like this. It can only get better.

House of Horrors (no graphic details)

I had an interesting weekend. I found out to my detriment what happens when you eat food that is one or more of the following:
• Prepared in an unclean kitchen
• Less than fresh
• Reheated to the incorrect temperature
• Kept in the wrong conditions
• Anything else that makes food bad for you

On Friday I had prawns and boiled rice for lunch at about 1pm in a little noodle house a couple of doors down from the office. It wasn’t the first time I’d eaten there, but it sure as hell, will be the last.

About 3pm, I started to sweat.
Half an hour later I went to bathroom, all was not well.
I left the office at 5pm after being to the bathroom a further two times.

The car ride home was forty five minutes riddled with tension. I needed to pass wind, but I wasn’t game.

I got home and immediately went to the bathroom. I didn’t even bother to chase Cara out for a wee, I just had to trust she’d know what to do. She did. Of course Puss and Oren followed me and started asking for dinner. Food was the last thing I wanted anything to do with.

I fed the animals at arm length, put a log on the fire, then sat on the sofa, feeling considerably better and thinking it was over.

At six o’clock the violence began, and continued until four in the morning. At this point I was exhausted, I wanted my Muv, while I didn’t need anyone to hold my hair, I would have like someone to rub my back and tell me it would OK.

When I have a migraine I want to be left alone. I don’t want anyone telling me to keep my fluids up or asking me if I’m still alive.

When I’m sick, and I mean SICK, while I don’t really want anyone to see the indecision about whether to sit or bow, but I would like it if there’s someone outside the bathroom waiting to tuck me back onto the sofa or into bed and tell I’ll live to see another day. I would love to have someone else tell the cat not to try and sit on my tummy and this weekend I’d have loved it if someone else could have got log in and kept the fire going. Those buggers are heavy when you haven’t eaten for two days.

Saturday I spent sleeping and drinking the Powerade that had been brought in to replenish my electrolytes (Thank you SI). I failed to keep the first bottle down, but then it was over. Healing time.

Now began the aching, the muscles pulled for unusual activity of the non fun type. Shoulders, back, neck and chest. It hurt to drawn a deep breath and anyone calling to ask me how I was, was asked not to make me laugh. The restless sleeps invaded by dreams of jack-knifing trucks and being stuck in a bubble on the roadside unable to escape. It’s a classic for me, been having it for years and a true indication that I’m anything but well.

On Sunday I started to feel somewhat human again, but I didn’t venture out and a tenderised tummy kept me on fluids only until I braved half a head of steamed broccoli and a scrambled egg about 7.30. It was too much and I couldn’t eat it all.

This morning I had a cup of cornflakes without milk for breakfast. Weakness is the word to describe my current state. Ohh and about 5kgs lighter.

I find it remarkable how being sick can reduce even the most independent person into a blubbering child that wants their mummy, because MuV always knows best and exactly what to do.

Muv would have tucked me into bed.

Muv would have popped to the shops and brought Ribena or Lucozade.

Muv would have almost certainly made me dry toast with Marmite.

Muv would have cleaned the loo up and taken the bin bag out when it needed to be done.

Muv would have stroked my back and told me it was OK to cry.

And after two days Muv would have told me to ‘get up now, have a shower, start moving around, it’ll make you feel better.’

It’s a weekend I don’t wish to repeat anytime soon, but I know there where people out there that suffered worse than I, Tradie Trady being one of them and SI with a gastro bug.

But for the record, to ensure no one else goes through this I have reported the Noodle House responsible. I’ll keep you posted.

14/9/11 Update - The New Taste Noodle House was closed for lunch yesterday and it's looking shut up right now. Someone asked me yesterday, 'Did you close down the Noodle House?' My response was, 'No, they did, by not having a clean kitchen or food handling practices.' Not guilty, I still have a dodgy tummy!

ANTM 11-5

The French chick is bringing everyone down in the house, very negative.
A photoshoot of natural disasters saw a couple of the girls fall flat.

Clark went home

Isis and Hannah went home in 11-4

Ohh and I have whooping cough, been off work since Friday thanks to my friend who sits near me at the office.

Feeling Unwell?

The place where I work relies on Lotus Notes databases for everything. And I mean, EVERYTHING! This has its painful side, in so much as you can’t find anything and most of the stuff is hopelessly out of date.

On the plus side, you can get lost for hours looking for stuff if you want to hide. It’s like a lovely big, dimly lit warehouse full of dusty boxes. You can walk in the door with the intention of looking for, say, stocktake documentation but end up silently giggling at Incident reports.

I did such a thing the other day. It was like one of those chain email joke thingies about insurance claims. It’s not just the incident, most are boring, it’s way they’ve been written up that makes you laugh. You get this picture in your head of someone falling over or whatever, not in itself funny, but when it’s written like this*…

- Customer felt dizzy while standing at the checkout
- Employees feet were sore from blisters on her feet while walking
- Xxx was at the register talking to her colleague when she noticed her nose was bleeding
- Long term issue with walking on right
- Staff member had panic attack (mental illness)
- Xxx was walking on the shop floor when he felt a twinge in his groin
- Staff member sprained his ankle at home whilst walking too fast on an uneven surface
- Member was playing football outside of work hours away from place of employment when member sustained a hard tackle

There are countless incidents of both staff and customers having sore and blistered feet from both new and old shoes, which tell me that if you are shopping or standing all day, there are no ‘comfortable’ shoes.

It made me realise too that every first aider is an amateur doctor. Terms like myocardial infarction and viral infection litter the reports like a tickertape parade, but they have no way of knowing the cause of the problem.

My personal favourite though has to be one that isn’t all that funny, but does have an element of ‘what the…’ about it.

Xxx has a personal illness. Returned from lunch and felt dizzy and had partial loss of sight. (brain tumour)*.

What the hell? IT'S PERSONAL!



* names have been deleted and slight editing of content has taken place.

Jumping Hoops

I’ve been at my new job with the department store for just over two weeks. I don’t like it very much as you may have seen. My views haven’t really changed much.

This morning the woman who sits in the seat opposite me and with whom I have spent countless hours in meetings with announced that her doctor had told her what was wrong with her.

Now, on my first day (two weeks and one day ago) she told me that her boyfriend was off sick from work and they thought he had chicken pox. That first week she was coughing and spluttering all over the shop with a ‘bit of a cough’, last week she was off for three afternoons and one whole day. She’s ‘so busy’ that she couldn’t stay away. She’d come in for the morning, cough all over us, and then leave in the afternoon.

She has whooping cough.

Why do people do that. If you are sick...stay at home and keep your highly contagious bacterial infections to yourself.

Ewww Gross

So, I’ve been absent for a few days. Well that’s due to Chicken soup being the opposite of a cure all and the thing that finally made me projectile vomit all over the bathroom on Tuesday afternoon, twice. I’ve been curled up in bed feeling extremely sorry for myself with tummy ache, the shakes, the shivers and aching bones. I spent all but three hours of yesterday asleep and still managed to sleep through the night. I’m feeling much better today and Puss and Newk have been keeping me company.

And they are sooo cute....

Puss in pink

Newk in Fushia