Awake

I'm sick. Only moderately, I believe and hope, but I've been sick off and on for nearly a month now. It started as a sinus infection, for which I had two different antibiotics and a week off work (for the first time in recent memory). The second antibiotic did the trick on my sinuses, mostly, but left a dry cough. Last night, for whatever reason, the cough "itched" so strongly that I've now hacked my way to a murderous sore throat. Guess I'll go see the doc again.

In other news it's Spring here. Tulips are up, lizards are sunning themselves on the windowsill (and getting into the office and running around in piles of paperwork for a half hour before being persuaded to leave again). Went for a walk at the Bärensee with G and U and the kids on the weekend, 20°C and sunny.

In other, other news I'm going mad. I've lost all sense of time: it seems that the kitchen always has a pile of three or four dirty cereal bowls to be washed, meaning that three or four days have gone past since I last looked in the kitchen. Clearly this isn't so, since I had to be there to eat the damned cereal, but … I don't know. Just between you and me, I think I'm arriving at the point where I am so lost, and so worried about being lost, that I can finally admit my "failure" and ask for help.

How does one go about finding a therapist? It was easy in London in the early 90s, I had a friend who happened to be deputy head of social services for a particular borough and asked him for a recommendation; he sent me to his own therapist. Perhaps I'd have the same luck if I just asked around here, but my impression is that German society is less tolerant/respectful of psychotherapy and mental unease than England was. We shall see. I'll ask the doctor, whom I like and trust, whether he can recommend somebody.

One of the topics that came up at the retreat in October was "letting yourself be seen." This is not something that I do, my natural inclination is to dissemble and conceal — despite my blogs and Twitter and Faecesbook and whatever all else. It occurred to me in conversation with a friend in SL that, were I to kill myself, there are only three or four people in the world who wouldn't say "But his life was perfect, he was so happy." (Don't worry, I am not planning to kill myself, not even thinking about it; that was an extreme way of saying that I hide what is going on in my life.)

I'm going to start telling much more of the truth here. I'm not going to say that I'll tell it all, and I'm certainly not going to promise that I'll write regularly or even more frequently, but I'll do my best not to reply with a shaky grin and a please-change-the-topic dismissive "Just fine" whenever somebody, even myself, asks how I am.

Wish me luck.

Awake, and sick

Woke with sniffles and a cough at 5:15, after going to sleep around 1:30; writing now while the hot chocolate cooks. G damned a colleague earlier for coming in to work while sick and infecting us all, but when he was sick last week he came to work every day and coughed all over us. This is the result.

In other news, the competition that ran over Christmas and into January has been judged: our entry was dismissed in the second round (i.e. far too early, no money and no fame). Ah well. The winners used a planning principle that we considered and abandoned in the first week, so in theory every minute we spent after that decision was wasted time. (shrugs)

Grim

Utterly miserable day yesterday: blood pressure near zero, jittery nerves, cold hands and feet and general shivering, constant nausea and diarrhoea. I spent most of the day in bed, at least sixteen hours asleep. Today is better but not good.

Update

Doc says "no more heparin" which is probably a good thing, and "the thrombus is measurably shrinking" which is definitely a good thing. I shall continue to bandage my leg every day for another week or so, then see how it looks. He ordered blood tests, to be certain that I am otherwise in good shape; the last such general test was made in 2001, so it's probably well overdue.

Doc also says that the vein will probably remain blocked for the rest of my life, not to worry though because the body is full of veins and the blood will find another way back into circulation. This puzzles me: is it to be considered a positive outcome?

On the other hand I am thankfully aware that my burdens are far lighter than many others' and I do count my blessings often. One doesn't wish to be as self-centered as the man who, on hearing that his barber had had to cancel their appointment because he'd broken his leg, muttered "Damn, why does this always happen to me?" However, having said that: I have become aware of the mass of twitches and twinges and flashes of discomfort in my body, which I'd never taken full notice of before. Walking home from a cappuccino at the Dead White Male Poet Cafe, I realized that I had a knot in my chest, and was able through poking and prodding to identify it as being the effect of a mildly out-of-place rib and overtense shoulder and upper back muscles.

It's been about two weeks since I started cutting down on coffee, reducing my intake from two or three cups a day to one or two a week. Having done so, I notice the effect that caffeine and sugar have on my nerves, temperament and stomach — and I don't like it. I am jingling and twitching all over, irritable and unconcentrated and easily annoyed. A resolution: I will give up sugar completely (coffee is the last holdout, I gave up putting it in tea and on cereal twenty-five years ago), and will continue to drink coffee only as a rare treat on very special occasions.

I read an interview with Peter Sloterdijk about doping scandals in sports and the Tour de France in particular. It's available in English on the website of "Der Spiegel," the magazine in which it appeared, in a very good translation. Fascinating reading, as always with Sloterdijk.

The Mauersegler are still here, though to judge by the experience of the last few years (after I began taking notes) they should be gone within a week. The days are already getting noticeably shorter, the weather seems to be cooling and calming down.

De-escalation

The vein specialist ultrasounded and poked and prodded, and concluded that my house doctor's diagnosis was right, the lumpiness in my groin/upper thigh is just swollen lymph nodes. He was politely sarcastic about my leg-bandaging skills and showed me how to do it properly: using two bandages, not just one, and wrapping tightly all around from toes up to the inside of my knee.

Sis asked in a comment about the lifestyle changes and how this condition comes to be. I do indeed walk regularly and far, but that isn't actually related to how thrombi develop.

As I understand it (and those of better knowledge are encouraged to expand or correct) a thrombosis is pretty much a random event like getting a cold in winter. There are preconditions that encourage it, like being tall and thin and having low blood pressure, but these are neither necessary nor sufficient for a thrombus to develop. The trigger is sitting too still for too long, in a way that permits blood to pool uncirculated, and the time required may be as little as a half-hour; but while this is sufficient and necessary, it isn't automatic because the great majority of airline passengers don't get a thrombus.

I do tend to sit too still for too long while working, I become completely involved in what's on screen and look up in surprise to find that the room has gone dark because the sun set an hour ago. This is what I'll have to change. I have got a timer (software) which blanks off the screen for N minutes every M minutes, and find it annoying as hell because the break always seems to come just as I am getting into the swing of understanding something. I might get used to it in time, but at present I find the constant interruption unbearable: it's reducing my productivity by at least 40% because of the time it takes me to think my way back to where I was before the break.

There must be a middle way, and I shall try to find it.

Escalation

Doc poked and prodded (gently) this morning and said that the lump appears to be reducing slightly. He extended the prescription for heparin but not for penicillin. Apropos which, I mentioned that I still had the feeling of a lump in my upper thigh when I sat, so he suggested making an appointment with a vein specialist in case there is a second clot there that he missed. I'll keep you posted.

Went to the office today, and had a very hard time of it: there isn't a single non-ergonomically-awful chair in the place. I shall have to work from home for the foreseeable future, as I can't afford to get a second chair like the one I have here (400 Euros and it was definitely worth every penny, but I don't have that many pennies).

Today is Udge Watanabe's rezzday, he was born in Second Life a year ago. Such fun I have had! Thanks to all friends real and virtual for the encouragement and amusement and tears, it's been a gas.

To blow my own horn just a little longer this is my nine hundredth post, just short of my blog's fourth birthday (on August 20th, if you want to bake a cake). Hooray!! Once more I must say: such fun I have had, with your able assistance and encouragement. Thank you all so much for reading and commenting and writing back.

How to give yourself an injection

Being another in the infrequent series of Public Service Announcements. Many thanks to the Lioness for this lesson.



Should you ever be in the unfortunate position of having to give yourself an injection, here's how to do it. Note that I am right-handed, lefties should adjust accordingly.

First, the problem This arises from our frequent experience of having been given injections. The doctor holds the needle between the fingers of her right hand, with her thumb on the plunger, and jabs it into us in a thrusting right-to-left motion. This is perfectly normal and correct for her because the posture and motion are natural and relaxed.

When we ourselves pick up a needle, it seems obvious to hold the needle as she did and inject ourselves in the right side. Not so! If you try it, you will find your wrist and elbow severely contorted. Your motions will be stiff and unnatural, resulting in bad aim and a shaky hand — not good.

And now, the solution The correct way to self-inject is as shown in the photos. Hold the body of the needle between thumb and second-to-fourth fingers, with your first finger on the plunger and the needle pointing back towards your wrist. Inject yourself in the left side, pulling not thrusting, in a left-to-right motion. This ensures that your wrist and elbow remain relaxed and in a natural posture, resulting in better aim and less hand shake.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to lie down again.

How my day began

Telephone: Ring ring, ring ring, ring ring

Udge (mumbles): Hello?

Caller: Idiot! Bloody idiot!! Gah!!! Why didn't you call me?

Udge: Ah, good morning Lioness. How are you?

Spent the last days mostly at home, mostly in or on my bed. I've read a lot, dozed, even slept a few hours working off the effects of the competition last week. It's getting somewhat dull. I brought in my laptop which is now perched most uncomfortably on my purple belly as I lie propped up in bed, so this is not a long-term solution either.

Speaking of purple, I gave myself the first heparin injection (of three) this morning. I stood for a full minute with needle in one hand and a roll of belly fat in the other, before working up the courage to poke the needle in (but have to admit that it was in fact quite painless. This was subcutaneously administered (as we in the profession say), rather than injecting into muscle tissue which I now infer is the painful kind). My hand was shaking so much from the stress of the odd position and trying to push the plunger slowly and evenly that the needlepoint was waggling about. Lioness advised applying ice to the injection site immediately, which I did, and am pleased to see that there was no bruising there.

She gave me lots of good advice that the doctor didn't (e.g. avoid eating sources of vitamin K, which basically rules out everything but meat and junk food) and a few earnest warnings that I won't repeat. This condition is a combination of predisposition (low blood pressure, being very tall) and habits (sedentary, no exercise). Having got it, I shall have to be watchful (and active) for the rest of my life.

I've been drinking a lot of what I am amused to learn is called "white tea:" plain hot water. Quite deliciously refreshing.

Shabbat shalom, my dears, and happy Will Smith Day to the Americans. Enjoy the weekend.

Still lumpy

Doc was less than amused this morning to find the thrombus somewhat enlarged from Tuesday's examination. I am now on a course of heparin (anti-coagulant) injections, one a day for the next three days. It comes in handy-dandy, use-once-and-throw-away kits for self-injection. I'm not particularly looking forward to this, I must admit, but the alternative is worse.

Just pulled up my shirt to have a look at my belly, and noticed a tremendous bruise at the injection site. Raced across the street, found the Doc still in his office, and showed him the sign. "Absolutely normal, to be expected, no problem. Just do the next injections elsewhere." Okay, whatever you say. The next follow-up appointment is for Monday morning.

Something new

Or, why I'm not downtown doing the dolce vita.

The first errand was a visit to the doctor. I didn't say so before because I wanted neither to jinx myself by naming my secret fear, nor to appear a pathetic hypocondriac wimp if it turned out to be unimportant. The upshot is that it is indeed what I had feared, but that the prognosis is good and the treatment simple. (Zhoen, Lioness and Diana, you are welcome to contribute technical information to the discussion :-)

I've had a lump in my leg for a few weeks now, halfway up the inside of my calf. At first it looked like a bruise, the kind that overtired and distracted air travellers often get without noticing the bump that caused them, but the lump remained after the discolouration and swelling went down. Doc says that it's a classical venal thrombosis, should be dealt with but no need for surgery (which had been my fear). We have a follow-up appointment for Thursday morning.

[Updated for clarification: this is a superficial (surface) vein, it is not DVT.]

The treatment is simple: aspirin to thin the blood, a heparin ointment to prevent further clotting, a bandage wrapped around to apply pressure, and some penicillin for the incipient blood poisoning that is swelling the lymph glands in my upper thigh.

So now you know. No beer for the next few days. I'm not sure what to do (or not do) though: the typical cause of thrombosis is sitting too long too still, which certainly matches my work habits. What should I do during the next days? The doc considers me unfit for work and offered a sick note for my employer (i.e. myself), so clearly I shouldn't be climbing Mount Everest. But given that sitting at work caused the problem, is it right for me to sit around at home? A puzzle.

Definitely Spring

Public Service Announcement: The chestnut trees have leafed out, the magnolias are budding. Pictures in the very near future.

Coughing, tired. Rain. Blah.

That is all.

Not dead yet

Just checking in to say that I'm getting slowly but steadily better. Still coughing, but less often and less painfully; still tired, but not as likely to fall over sideways while walking to the corner shop for milk.

And now for something quite amusing, courtesy of the Lioness: An honest R&B song. (Harmless but nonetheless possibly not safe for work, because bosses don't like to see their employees falling about laughing.)

Sick, part four

Getting better slowly. Today was sunny and warm (over 20°C) so I went for a walk around the Feuersee, and had to lie down afterwards. Cough is better, but lungs are still full and I have very little energy. It seems that I will be spending next week basically indoors, too.

Sick, part three

Subtitled: regression to the mean. Having slept some twelve hours yesterday, I could not get to sleep until about 2 a.m. last night/this morning, and woke after seven hours' sleep.

Coughing much better, i.e. less often and far less violently; sinuses draining well. Might be healthy again by Monday at this rate.

Went for a walk this afternoon, bronchitis be damned, as it was sunny and about 15°C with no wind. Quite pleasant, but nearly had to lay down again when I returned home after twenty minutes' mild exercise.

And so it goes. Shabbat shalom, my dears.

Sick, part two

Slept nearly eleven hours last night, not counting a half-hour or so awake at about 5 a.m. Had breakfast, read, had lunch (comfort food: scrambled eggs with Maultaschen, zucchini and mushrooms), read, napped for an hour, and now blogging.

My lungs are starting to clear, coughing is much less painful than yesterday. Trouble is that they are clearing through my nostrils, which is of limited aesthetic appeal and entertainment value. Vague low-grade headache all day.

That is all.

Sick

Bronchitis. Feels like I'm tearing great holes in my lungs when I cough. That is all.

In other news, Luke Pittard is surely one of the most sensible men in the world.

Blah

Slept late, and woke with a throbbing headache that I still have. No work today, I shall spend Ash Wednesday cleaning and sorting at home. Perhaps this is appropriate.

But first I shall walk downtown for a cappuccino, perhaps the air will clear my head.

Blah.

Being a grumbling whine.

Feeling quite grotty today, thick raspy lungs and a very sore throat. I fear a nasty cold or virus is arriving. This is probably due to spending the day with Slim and Larry at the zoo on Sunday (after Slim and I had planned to go for an afternoon walk while Larry was with his father's new family). The other kids came down with a virus infection which worried Slim enough for her to bring him back home early, but not enough to protect me—or his kindergarten fellows—from the infection. Her standards are quite remarkably one-sided: her kid must go to kindergarten when he is probably carrying a virus, because she's a working single mother and cannot stay home with him, but other parents' kids must stay home from kindergarten when they are probably carrying a virus, because she's a working single mother and cannot afford for him to get sick and have to stay home.

Anyway. To bed, hopefully this will all blow over with careful rest and feeding. Wish me luck.

Blah, Sunday edition

Still headache and general blahness. The meeting this afternoon will be a trial, I fear, but with only nine days before hand-in it's not one I can miss. Bah.

Dear Blogger.com I see that you have updated your software to include automatic spellchecking. I am embarrassed beyond belief to state that Blogger is (for once) not at fault. The automatic spellchecker belongs to the new, updated version of Safari. I have turned it off.

Who would have thought that a web browser would require spellchecking? Apparently it does; presumably it costs nothing to add it in since the checking software already exists as a generic core routine. There are a few useful improvements in Safari, what makes me happy this evening is that the Home/PageUp/PageDown/End keys now, finally, work in the bookmarks page.

Eighteen down, twelve to go.

In which a milestone is reached

Georgette sends me an e-mail message. Not in itself unusual, we often exchange a half-dozen mails per day; but the tone of this one was different: exultant, triumphant.

Sixteen months to the day after the initial meeting with the Hobbyists, they have sold the very first copy of the cut-down database to a real live customer! (A woman, no surprise: I've remarked before that over ninety percent of the database users are women.)

Woo-hoo.

I would go out and get roaring drunk on my approximately 8.25 Euro share of the profits, but for two facts: 8 Euros only buys two-and-a-half beers, and I'm suffering from a sick headache that is about to send me back to bed for a while.

[Updated] it occurs to me that neither Partner nor any of his assistants informed me that they had actually sold licenses wholesale to the Hobbyists. Until I asked Georgette what the retail price was just now, out of curiosity, nobody had told me that they'd purchased a block of 200 licenses. How interesting. I shall have to have a little talk with Partner in the very near future. And send him an invoice for a few thousand Euros.

Today's Friday Favourite is a jaunty little tune from this CD. Enjoy.