The great wool purge of 2017 - or my body heat in synthetics

I have been slowing packing away all of my woollen clothing. It's a bit sad, but hopefully I'll be able to sell a few items on TradeMe and gift some others to The Little Madam.

The purge has left my wardrobe almost bare (thanks goodness I'll still be well clothed for summer), leaving me with a pretty minimal winter wardrobe:

• two skirts (one of which I just bought yesterday)
• one dress
• no cardigans
• a really nice shirt I got at the Tempest closing down sale
• one coat (warm enough when it's 12 degrees Celsius but useless in the rain)
• one raincoat that has a thin poly fleece lining
• one cotton scarf
• the few cotton/acrylic hats I managed to finish in the last week
• no arm warmers/handwarmers/wristwarmers
• only cotton socks
• 1 polypropylene top

I knew I would need to find another warm layer to supplement my remaining coat (viscose, polyester etc) and raincoat, to survive this weekend's bone-chilling temps. I was resigned to having to buy...sigh...a puffer jacket.

Gawd I hate puffer jackets. Maybe it's slightly unreasonable, since they are at least warm, light and sensitive skin-friendly. I managed to find one at the Kathmandu sale, one thats only thinly padded with down and shaped so that I look like a healthy adult female rather than a cushion on legs. In a pale aqua. It does the job I guess.

Head full of holes

It's a pity I bruise so easily - I've had a bunch of blood tests in the search for what's behind the deforestation on my head (and my eyebrows. and my eyelashes), and each needle prick has left behind a large bruise. I worry that if I don't cover up my arm sufficiently people will think the boy has been bashing me about.

As if this wasn't enough, this afternoon I had to return to the dermatologist to get some biopsies done. I didn't know for sure, but expected that he would gouge out some skin from my scalp.

I was quite right - this is exactly what he did. About five times. It wasn't intolerably painful, but as he stitched me up I realised my heart was pounding. Not with fear, I think. But definitely pounding.

Then it all started ache four hours later....

On the plus side, my stash of indoor-appropriate hats is building up nicely.

This one might be a bit too casual for the office but it'll keep my neck warm

Life's not all bad as a baldie (only slightly)

The cons:

1. If it's raining, I have to figure out how to wear my hood up without it dislodging my head cover. (Umbrellas are no good in my windy city).

2. I look really silly without something covering my head.

3. It's really not a sexy look (it might be if I were a model and shaved all of the remaining hair off).

4. When I told my extended family about it, they all wanted to see my naked head. The hell they will.

5. I wasted $30 on a big elephant-print sarong, which I turned into two long headscarves before giving up on the idea of wearing headscarves.

The pros:

1. I get to wear hats a lot, which is nice because I have a lot of hats (most of which I knitted myself).

2. I will save money on haircuts, which is handy because I would need to have no haircuts for the next 2 years and 6 months in order to save up the amount of money I will have to spend to see a dermatologist privately about my hair loss.

I think it's rather ironic that it's highly likely my hair is falling out due to financial stress - and finding out how much it costs to see the dermatologist is adding not exactly making that stress go away.

3. There's not much chance of my leaving home without my hat, and then being too cold when I leave the office for my lunch break.

4. I worked out how to sew my own exercise hat from an old t-shirt. That'll be handy if my head is still not presentable by summer.

5. The Boy is still lovely to me, which make me love him more.

6. The Little Madam is still lovely to me, which makes me love her more.

On the continual fall-out of my hair

It's been a week since I went to the doctor about my kamikaze hair. He prescribed me some stuff to tame my scalp and invited me to see him again in ten days if my hair is still misbehaving.

Well, it is.

The floors of my house are a real mess, as they are covered in black strands - as is my pillow. When I look in the mirror I'm reminded of a guy I once went tramping (hiking) with when I was at university. His head was mostly bald at the top but long-haired at the sides and back, like an egg wearing a fringe.

My progress in learning to tie a head scarf is very slow (if it is happening at all). Mostly I can rely on the pirate-style do staying on, but any other way soon fails and is replaced by one of my ever-reliable knitted hats. There are some really inspiring YouTube videos showing you how to tie a head scarf stylishly - but watching them is the only easy part.

At times like these I'm thankful that I'm still working from home. It means I don't have to spend more than a couple of hours in any one day in public, with my head inexpertly covered.

Did you know there are many websites that sell headwear aimed at women going the full-Sinead due to alopecia and chemotherapy?

Stubbly like a kiwifruit

To save money, I only go to the hairdressers when my hair so long I just can't stand it any more.

If I had known two Saturdays ago that my hair was going to fall out, I might have opted to save my $42.

It started happening a week ago this morning - handfuls just fell off my head while I was in the shower. I run a hand through what's left of my stylishly bobbed locks and it comes away full of limp strands. I get out of bed in the morning and the sheets are covered in wavy black lines. The floor looks like that of a busy hairdresser's.

I'm comforted by the stubble that has appeared in the place of the escaped hairs, so it is growing back. But it's surely going to take months.

I really don't know why this is happening to me. Is it because  the day before, I had done my first dance class in probably two decades? And then took TLM and her friend for a hill walk later in the same day? Is it because my body is sugar-starved? (Not likely, despite my efforts to be sugar-free during the week). Or the result of two years of worrying incessantly about money? (But at long last the boy has got a contract and soon money will be flowing in - for a couple of months at least.)

My off-centre part is more like a broad, dried out riverbed.

When I dare to gaze in the mirror I am reminded of the wispy-haired bird-girl in TLM's book,"Eep".

Thankful that it's almost hat weather, I have spent Easter weekend with a knitted cloche practically glued to my head whenever it wasn't just the three of us. I like how it looks and all, but it isn't actually quite that cold enough to be wearing it indoors with the heater on.

Tomorrow I will try wearing a silk headscarf, gypsy-style. I will probably look ridiculous, but at least I can avoid sporting a comb-over.

Time to target the muffin top

For years I've been eating like I still go to the gym every day, when of course I stopped going not long before TLM was born 11 years ago.

Ice cream, cakes, biscuits (cookies), chippies - damn my sweet tooth and taste for greasies.

Just like it says in just about every bit of literature you'll find about middle age spread, the extra weight has crept up on me and it only hit me a couple of weeks ago that I really have to do something about my "clothes shrinkage".

My bum lift jeans can no longer lift my bum, because they are too tight around the waist. My NYDJ jeans  will still zip up, but it's easy to see that they are having to work a lot harder than only a year ago. And the pretty maxi skirt that fit me just right last summer will no longer button up at the back.

Yep, it is time to do something about it.

A couple hours of Google searching ("lose spare tyre") and three fitness-over-40 type books later, I have settled on a plan of attack:

• I already make sure I go for a walk every day - from here on every other day my walk will be interval-training style. Every time I hit an upward slope I'm going to go up that as fast as I can, then slow down for the flat and downward bits. Interval training is supposed to be good for targeting belly fat.
• Will try to do stretches and mobility exercises...
• I'm going to cut right down on the sweeties and greasies. None at all during the week, but letting myself have a treat or two during the weekend so I don't go postal. This is the bit that I expect will make the most difference.
• I'm keeping a food journal so if I do fall off the wagon, it's all there on paper so I don't forget it.
• I'll only have one between-meal snack mid-morning and another mid-afternoon (rather than whenever I'm bored or slightly hungry)

This only started on Tuesday so it's early days yet. I know that last time I tried to go sugar-free I only lasted a week. But that time, I was motivated only by the desire to be healthier. Fear of falling down the roly-poly black hole is a much stronger motivation for me at the moment. (Okay I also don't want to get Type 2 diabetes.)

Wish me luck!

It only hurts when I walk, sit, stand or change position

Last Christmas/New Year I had the opportunity to practice the fine art of saying "No bloody way", when a friend asked me to help her move. I failed.

Anyway, to cut a middling story short and preserve my friendship, I'll just say that in my rush to get it over and done with as soon as possible (on a hot a sunny day) I overdid things.

It didn't happen overnight, but it did happen...about a week later, when I tried to get up from sitting on the floor (playing with the colouring books I got for Christmas) and found it impossible to do without making lots of hurt-y noises.

But I have managed, with the help of hot baths, Deep Heat ointment, and exercising extreme care when doing anything, to go to work this week.

It's definitely harder if I'm trying to get somewhere in a hurry, sitting down a lot, or trying to use the standing desk in our office for the entire day.

It's not going to ruin my weekend though.  I'll just be taking it slowly and letting the boy do all the heaving lifting.

The last of our summer holiday

Just before Christmas last year I had spontaneously decided to take a couple of week off in January in addition to several days over Christmas and New Year. It meant I'd have only crumbs of annual leave for the rest of the year, but while I'm on holiday at home it feels like the right decision.

We'd had restful mornings followed by leisurely lunches followed by splashing at the beach. We've had visits from TLM's friends, I've managed to cover our porch (as well as my hair, some of the concrete around the porch, and some of my clothes) in a couple of coats of paint. I've nearly finished my non-classic denim jacket and finished my Japanese-inspired linen maxi dress (to be posted here later).

Although it hasn't been all fun and games, what with my elderly mum requiring visits to the doctor, the practice nurse and the medical lab, as well as many visits to cook for her while waiting for her home health service to kick in.

At the same time, the boy was diagnosed with shingles in his optic nerve. That was pretty scary at the time but the big box of various drugs seems to have worked because he looks normal now and didn't lose his sight. He still gets a lot of pain though, unsurprisingly.

I sure hope the rest of 2015 isn't so medically stressful as it's been so far...

I've had an earful

This is what happens when you are a hyper-allergic person with a tendency to collect rock-hard bits of wax in your ears:

• they throb and make your head feel like they're full of fingers
• you can hear the sea
• the insides of the ears get itchy so - as much as you know you shouldn't - you dive in there with a finger and poke around, looking for whatever it is that's tickling them.
• You go a bit deaf. You're probably a bit deaf already, but now it's really noticeable because when you walk your footsteps thunder inside your head and drown out everything else...
• everything else except for that plastic bag which makes a terrible racket so you stop trying to fish out whatever it is (your lunch maybe, or your sunhat)
• then, if you haven't done something about it by now, the pain comes.
• you visit the doctor in case you've developed an ear infection. Because that's, like, serious (permanent hearing loss!)
• where, if you're unlucky, it takes several visits to several doctors (because they are part time and you can almost never get the same one twice in a row) before you're told that all you needed was a severe micro-sucking to remove the build-up.

I texted the boy, who was worried about me because I was up all night feeling little stabbing pains in my left ear, "doc says just maxi waxy ear sucking booked".

Turns out those places that specialise in this sort of procedure are very busy (imagine working in a place where you spend all day sucking out ear wax!) so I have another 40 or so hours to put up with before blessed relief (I hope) comes. 

Thoughts on the pox

TLM is still spotty, but she hasn't had any new clusters of spots since about Tuesday - so I'll take that as a good sign.

My mum assured me that I had chicken pox as a child - I myself had always thought that I'd had measles, from my memory it could have been anything spotty and itchy (like scabies!) - while the boy definitely has had it. There is always the chance of getting shingles though...

And for the last two days I've been hearing ads on the radio for a $200 vaccination against shingles.

Coincidence or what?

A day of one's own

Today I have been watching brain-numbing television, knitting, and surfing the web for interesting knitting patterns to use on my Rowan Summer Tweed yarn. Soon I'll put on some Buffy and have my lunch.

It would be a blissful day if I wasn't headache-y, feverish and coughing up unspeakable yuckiness.
I have TLM's cold - it didn't affect her like this.

Germ warfare

My brother won his battle with the horrible S. aureous bacteria. Though he was only allowed to go home yesterday, so he was in hospital for maybe three weeks. And he still isn't walking normally because his' back is stuffed from him being laid out flat for days and days.

My own battle, though far less serious, is ongoing. Only a week or so after recovering from the pimple-from-hell on my back, I now have one on my right arm. I tried bathing it in anti-bacterial solution every night this week, but Mr and Mrs S. aureous merely laughed in my face and turned up the heater.

Now, I'm no conspiracy-theorist - but I reckon there may be some kind of outbreak going on here. My brother, when he was in ICU, shared with several other patients with similar afflictions to his own. And when I tried to buy a new bottle of the anti-bacterial solution at the pharmacy, I was told they'd had a run on the stuff.

Someone is trying to kill the 10% of us who have vulnerable body bits.

not tonsillitis

When I got to the doctor's and showed her the left side of my head, she seemed very excited and fascinated by my condition. Obviously it's not something she's come across before. It was the ear that did it really. It was huge, florid and almost pulsating with not-quite-right-ness. She wanted to know all about it (maybe she'd been bored with a morning full of sniffles and sprained ankles - I dunno).

Anyway, a little TMI, so I'll gloss over the details. Suffice it so say that tonsils were examined and deemed healthy, so the infection was therefore of some other sort.

I got my prescription for a big bottle of antiobiotics, a note for my employers confirming I need another day off, and hope that some time tomorrow I will look and feel like myself again.

Actually, today I forgot I was sick on several occasions - I just have trouble turning my head, and my body temperature still goes a bit up and down. I even managed a couple of hours of work - checking and reply to emails and anything else I could manage from home.

And when I get back to work I shall be sure to clean my telephone very, very thoroughly.

tonsillitus

Overnight, just like that, I developed a tender lump on one side of my neck. The first morning, all my joints ached as well so I knew I was genuinely ill and I hadn't sleepwalked to a bar and got into a fight with the bouncer.

I spent most of that day huddled on the sofa with a duvet, a high temperature and Season 4 of the Gilmore girls.

Today I've been more conscious and my joints aren't aching any more. But my head still hurts and my neck still looks and feels like it's trying to hatch an avocado. Not only that, but it seems to be spreading further around my head - not the face, thank gawd, but if my left ear gets any more swollen it's going to explode. It already looks like it was transplanted from a larger animal - perhaps a rugby-playing elf with a lifelong alchol problem.

The boy's mum is a retired nurse, and she reckons it's tonsillitus. I always thought my tonsils were down the back of my throat, but then, I've always associated tonsils with ice cream so what do I know?

Argh!

So now it starts.

I have the cold that nearly killed the boy over Easter, and which gave TLM a few sniffles the week before that.

It'll be okay as long as this doesn't end up like last winter's  hell-in-a-snot-rag.

Breathless

"I've been coughing since June", I told the doctor. And I have, though there were moments when it seemed to get better - just before another virus came along and made it worse again. Lately, I've have been deliberately looking my worst when visiting the doctors', just to make sure they take my illnesses seriously. This morning I looked like a vampire, though not as glamorous.

The doctor listened to my chest as I tried to breathe deeply - I managed two before collapsing into the kind of scary-arse hacking that, in old movies, means you've got TB. Apparently it quite alarmed him (the boy was there to see).

So now I have a new, stronger asthma preventer, some cough syrup, antibiotics for the chest infection and another course of Prednisone. On the plus side, I already feel heaps better than I did 4 hours ago.

It's got me thinking that I really ought to do something about my asthma. I used to be able to blow a 700 on the peak flow meter, no problem. Now I'm lucky to get over 400. I can't afford the time or money to resume my pre-TLM gym regime, which is probably the thing that really helped me. And I can't kick the boy out of the house either (nor can I make him give up smoking, because really only he can make that decision). Maybe, when I'm better, I could try swimming a couple of times per week.

Or maybe I should just buy myself a packet of face masks and spend my sewing time cleaning the house. Ugh.

This time next week I might be shouting

I might complain a lot about my mum always ringing me up and nagging me to get back to the doctor's, but it works. The nagging, that is. I went back to the doctor's this morning, just for a follow-up to make sure that I really am getting better, and although my virus and bacterial infections are pretty much down and dusted - I still have a way to go with the coughing, wheezing and raspy hoarseness.

So now I have a course of prednisone, which I think is some super-steroid to help supplement my asthma medication. Hopefully when my voice returns, it will still sound female.

On the other hand, I've heard that many men are very attracted to women with deep, husky voices.

On the up

I went back to work today, because:
1. I have taken about 14 days of sick leave
2. I haven't had the shakes in the last 3 mornings
3. My eyelids no longer look like small marshmallows (actually, small pillows might be more accurate)
4. I was worried that work would find someone to take over, who'd actually turn up.

Unfortunately the boy is now sick, either with a variation of my bug or with something new and exciting. This meant I had to to the daycare drop-off. By the time I'd returned the car home, I was all tired out. But I was all dressed for work so I thought, what the hell - may as well go to work anyway.

And it wasn't too bad. My co-workers cheered when I walked into the office, and only one of them visibly avoided getting too close to me and my germs. Although I did end up leaving early, because my head and throat started to hurt around midday.

TLM seems to have become quite used to having Daddy around all the time, instead of Mummy. she tends to call for him rather than me, and knows not to ask me to sing to her at night. It's only very slightly sad for me because I know that the boy had been on the vice versa until he was recession-hit.

I can't believe it's not swine flu!

Most of yesterday was spent sitting on the couch under a super-thick sleeping bag, drifting off to sleep when I could and feeling generally bad. Then the boy noticed I was looking dehydrated, and tossed me a large bottle of sports drink. A litre and a half (I think) later, I was actually walking around, feeling awake and even did some dishes!

I was much better today too (though maybe only as well as I was last Monday when I went back to work before promptly feeling crappy again). Then my mum showed up with an antique silver coin, a dozen eggs and a brand new bottle of eucalyptus and menthol oil. It had been far too frustrating trying to tell my deaf mum that it hurt my throat to talk to her over the phone.

It might have been a bad idea to let her rub that oil on me though. Soon after she left, the vapours started to burn my throat and cause my eyes to swell up. And then there was the stench of eggs and eucalyptus that took an hour to clear out of the living room.

But I know she meant well.

Back to the coalface tomorrow

It's been well over a week since I left work early, feeling too virus-ridden to continue. And my doctor's certificate says I'd only needed to be off work until last Friday, so I kinda have to show up tomorrow morning.

I feel a bit anxious about going in to work - even though I didn't get any sleep-ins (due to the boy's vampiric body clock), I was comforted by the fact that I didn't have to shower, or make myself look nice, or act alert, or talk to anyone. Also, if I accidentally choke on my own spit and spend the next five minutes coughing up lung cells, then there's only my immediate family to be disturbed by it.

What a pity I hardly get to spend time at home when I'm healthy.