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Health Update

A 52-post collection

Dat Organised? Am I?

This morning, I woke up at roughly half-past three AM [I had an early evening] and gave up on sleeping at 4. Instead of my usual procrastination, I pulled up my laptop and had a good old rant about Autism tropes over on my Wordpress.

Now that I'm here for my daily blogging, I'm back in the distractions but... eh. Whatever. I have one less thing to forget, so that's good.

You watch. I'll forget I posted it and do a twofer on the whole Tropes Vs Autism thing I have going on currently.

In the meantime, I have posted the latest chapter of Sweet Child of Mine and I did my All Hallow's Read piece in two sittings. It's disturbing and nasty and perfectly logical if you happen to be the murdering kind.

There's no obvious spelling errors, but I will be looking for Beta Readers after I get over the shock of having something accomplished without having to do it at Ferret Fart Desperation1 like I usually do. I actually have time to twiddle around with Photoshop and come up with some moderately decent cover art.

Go me.

In health news, we ran through all the hoops, and got a really fast-talking expert who very quickly stepped on all my objections to getting Mayhem some invasive surgery that could make the rest of his life inconvenient in the extreme. Now he doesn't believe me, but is also reluctant to go through with any surgical solutions.

He has not yet learned to be wary around people who talk that fast and insist on their option being the ONLY option. Time should cure him of that pretty damn fast.

I can only hope he learns to do his own fucking homework so he can actually make an informed decision.

  1. Story circulated amongst my family. There's a specific breed of ferret that has evolved a defence against pythons. As it's having its life squeezed out of it, just before its ribs start breaking, it releases the most NOXIOUS and foul-smelling WET FART from glands in its anus - thus making the python let go. The moral allegedly being that if you put enough pressure on people, they'll go to any lengths to get out of it.

Corner Turn

When something changes, we say that we've "turned a corner". Sometimes, it's deeper into the maze, but for me... well. I think things are looking up.

Our higher protein diet adjustment lets us have a little more freedom with the other things we have with said protein. Which means we can have the occasional treat.

Last night, it was small tubs of Häagen Däazs. The most luxurious ice cream on the market. Let me tell you, I have never tasted it before

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Busy day

I'm seeing my dentist today. Always quote-unquote "fun". It's going to be more "fun" with a post-nasal drip that is -thanks, antibiotics- not green any more. I still have it, but it's less... virulent.

This on top of doing my daily writing, and a doctor's visit for Chaos this afternoon.

Today and tomorrow, I'm still taking antibiotics, and if I'm still horking chunks tomorrow, I will be getting the repeat. I can deal with these horse pills for five more days.

Finance

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Six Weeks Left

Including this week, I have six weeks left of writing Clockwork Souls.

And I haven't seen anything from the beta-readers of Rael yet. Well. Apart from my lifelong nitpicker, MeMum.

Not complaining, I swear. I need to find all the tricky spelling errors that my addled brain has glossed over in the meantime.

Miss Chaos is also horking up green things, so I'm going to have to find some time in our busy schedules to drag her to the quacks for some

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Oh Fuck

My car is due a service. Just freshly overdue.

That is going to co$t us. Lot$ and lot$.

All my lappy cash is tied up in bitcoin trading in the hopes of getting a better lappy in the new fiscal year. And since bitcoin is crashing at the moment, my hopes lie in buying low and selling dear.

Any extra cash I had has been sucked up in little disasters, rebalancing the credit card, and getting myself the odd shiny thing

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Well, Shit

It is Friday, and I am still horking up chunks. Damnit.

Which means that I have to drag myself off to the Quack's for some antibiotics. Which I am flakey about taking for some reason.

On the plus side, I'm drying out. Which means the environment for bacterial shenanigans might just vanish. But I can't fool myself forever. Just as I wrote that, up came another chunk.

Can not be delusional with myself. Gotta book that appointment for me today. That was

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I Swear I Feel Better

I'm still shifting chunks. They're not improving with time, alas. I moved two green ones this morning and am seriously considering antibiotics.

BUT...

If I can shift all the chunks by Friday, I won't need them. So I will be regularly doing saline doses on Max to help remove the gunk, and staying hydrated however I can stand it. When I get sick of Shamdy, I shall imbibe ginger/cinnamon/lemon tea. And vice versa.

I'm slow-roasting tonight's protein so that I'll

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Screw That for a Gag

I have had duck tape on my feet for two frelling weeks because warts, and I just took it off to discover that it's either:

a) Pure Hokum
b) Only for warts on other areas

I looked up guaranteed wart cures and the duck tape was the only one to turn up in multiple areas. And the science seemed sound. Suffocate the skin in a specific area like -say- a bandaid left on too long, and the skin blisters and sloughs off

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Rest and Reconfiguration

I still can't write 1K words a day without hurting myself in the long term. Beloved insists that it's because I don't get enough fat in my diet and they might be right.

The only animal fat that I find (a) delicious and (b) easily-digestible is none other than pork fat. Which, as you might guess, is hellishly expensive. Other than that, I get my fats from Mascarpone, butter, and a hellfuck load of cheese.

Beloved criticises my daily fare as "lean"

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Ow...

My wrists are giving me two colours of hell. Today is Friday. Usually, the day I write a thousand words in my novel and congratulate myself on a job well done.

Thing is...

I've been writing a thousand words a day for four days in a row. No wonder my wrists frelling hurt.

So I shall focus on my thousand words today, and do the catch-up with Rael on the weekend.

And definitely focus on a minimum of one day of not

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Pump the Brakes!

Okay. So. This autumn season combined with the novel recovery efforts have made writing a literal pain. Fun.

It's okay if I take it slowly. I pause when my wrists start that low warning ache. Find something else to do.

I'm not going to power through it. That noise leads to worse pain and me laying up for who-knows-how-long with all sorts of medical intervention. Been there, done that, and it's amazing that I don't have lingering scars from the bracers.

Don't

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I do NOT know what this is

I'm tired all the time. Just behind my eyes. The rest of me seems to be awake and full of energy -hell- I woke up at like 1:30 AM [aka "Fuckoff O'Clock"] and try though I might, I could only snatch an hour's more sleep.

It could be asymptomatic lurgi. It could be the seasonal Thing getting to me in new ways. It could be a deficiency of something wearing away at me like nobody's business.

And my hip has decided

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Blurgh

So I just... zonked, yesterday. Passed out. Had a major nap-nap. Whatever you call it, I overdosed on sleep. And the good news is that I needed that.

The bad news is that I was still able to sleep for a majority of the night and my bod is like "more!" Also, I didn't get even one word in on Rael over the weekend.

It's cool. I'll make myself do some today. Monday to Friday are my gotta-work days.

The other bad

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Whew

It's a good thing I decided to do things the right way around, this morning.

I knew I would not have time to get my money on the brat run, this AM. So I waited until Chaos' bus was on its way before journeying out to get cash and victuals to restock our supplies.

And a good thing I did, because I have barely had time to sit before now.

Got a few paragraphs in on Babes in the Woods, though, so

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Initiating Quarantine Procedures

The ur-cold feeling in the back of my throat is getting worse. I feel alternately feverish and chilled. Worse than my usual "too-hot/too-cold" lack of body temperature control.

Which is, I have found out, one of the multiple comorbs that happen with ASD. Yay.

We were running around, yesterday, so I only got 500 words in during the events of the day. Still, progress is progress and I swore I would not fuss.

1K during an entire weekend feels like a

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