Once I got past yesterday's urge for the melodramatic, as captured in the previous post, I decided that, since my brain was fried for the day, I would accomplish something else productive: desserts. Working in slow-motion, I turned out a peach cobbler, a cashew-based dessert sauce, and some chocolate cake with vanilla frosting. Mmmmm. Then I went to bed early, planning to sleep in till 8am. Of course, I had also scheduled the grocery delivery for 7:30am, so that part didn't work as well as it could have. Still, I'm sure lots of delivery men are greeted at the door in the mornings by wild-haired women, barefoot and bathrobed, their faces still covered by pillow imprints. Yeah, yeah, it sorta sounds like a set-up for one of those "I never thought it would happen to me" letters, until you remember that I also hadn't brushed my teeth yet. Anyway, I tried not to breathe too hard on the poor man. And it was, for the record, the fastest delivery they've ever made.
And now, on with they day!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Child ill. Slept almost not at all. Suspended night-weaning attempts, to help him get better faster. Oh. Oh oh oh. Ow. Cannot work today. Husband has taken wee one (thankfully much improved this morning) out and away, and I find myself wishing I were the kind of person who could nap. But napping makes me sick to my stomach and badly disoriented.
Two years of sleep deprivation. More, if you count the last few months of my pregnancy. What will the ultimate cost be? My cognition, speech, and memory are all impaired now, some days terribly so. The course I taught over the summer? I cringe when I remember some of my errors. But--on the positive?--my memory is so damaged, I can hardly recall the course now, anyway. One of my fears is that there will be lasting damage, even once the child finally learns to sleep longer than two hours at a time.
I do not dare have another child. I know my son is a high-needs kid, and that they are not all like that, but what if kid number two was the same? I cannot go through this again. I just don't have the strength, physical, mental, or psychological. I adore my little sweet pea, but I cannot lose another two years.
My mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it.
Two years of sleep deprivation. More, if you count the last few months of my pregnancy. What will the ultimate cost be? My cognition, speech, and memory are all impaired now, some days terribly so. The course I taught over the summer? I cringe when I remember some of my errors. But--on the positive?--my memory is so damaged, I can hardly recall the course now, anyway. One of my fears is that there will be lasting damage, even once the child finally learns to sleep longer than two hours at a time.
I do not dare have another child. I know my son is a high-needs kid, and that they are not all like that, but what if kid number two was the same? I cannot go through this again. I just don't have the strength, physical, mental, or psychological. I adore my little sweet pea, but I cannot lose another two years.
My mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
May: Much writing. Gave talk. Rested for a few days; worn out.
June: Cleaned and reorganized entire apartment (OK, except for the big bedroom). Hosted many wonderful visitors. Began teaching intensive summer class.
July: Taught all month. More wonderful visitors. Son and husband had birthday (they share date and name, too--let the credit report confusions begin!) Health issues arise in last week of month.
August: Health issues resolved to my satisfaction (yay, it no longer feels like something is in my eye!), but not to that of my doctors (no no no, there must be something really, REALLY wrong with me). Tests are ordered. Then another test. Then more tests. Am currently looking at the fourth round of tests, which I expect will once again reveal that, although I have some physiological unusualness, I am in good health. Spirits not as good, what with all the worrying and aggravation, but have recently decided to cease caring about the doctorly wringing of hands and recommence normal life.
Today: research. Am working up prospectus for my dissertation proposal, and if I can ignore the woeful sounds emanating from two doctors and, soon, a third (especially since I have already decided I will refuse the lumbar puncture that I predict will shortly be demanded by third doc), I hope to have proposal done by late summer or early fall.
June: Cleaned and reorganized entire apartment (OK, except for the big bedroom). Hosted many wonderful visitors. Began teaching intensive summer class.
July: Taught all month. More wonderful visitors. Son and husband had birthday (they share date and name, too--let the credit report confusions begin!) Health issues arise in last week of month.
August: Health issues resolved to my satisfaction (yay, it no longer feels like something is in my eye!), but not to that of my doctors (no no no, there must be something really, REALLY wrong with me). Tests are ordered. Then another test. Then more tests. Am currently looking at the fourth round of tests, which I expect will once again reveal that, although I have some physiological unusualness, I am in good health. Spirits not as good, what with all the worrying and aggravation, but have recently decided to cease caring about the doctorly wringing of hands and recommence normal life.
Today: research. Am working up prospectus for my dissertation proposal, and if I can ignore the woeful sounds emanating from two doctors and, soon, a third (especially since I have already decided I will refuse the lumbar puncture that I predict will shortly be demanded by third doc), I hope to have proposal done by late summer or early fall.
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