A strange thing about pain is that it makes you do really, really weird stuff. We all know that it keeps you up at night, that it messes with your mind, and it makes you change pretty much everything about yourself. I walk differently, talk differently and pretty much am different. I have changed the register of my voice because my normal register causes a vibration deep in my skull that makes me hurt all over, for example. People who haven't heard me speak in a long time, note that I speak much more softly, or more slowly.
The Typhoid Mary of our house (aka our son) brought home a cold this week. As per usual with a cold and kids, he was sick for thirty seconds, and barely used six tissues; but, the adults are pretty much on the verge of hospitalization. I know that reference is totally inaccurate, as Typhoid Mary wasn’t actually sick, but spread Typhus, at first, unwittingly. If historical accounts are accurate though, our little Typhoid Mary is pretty much like her, as far as her refusal to wash her damn hands, as a means to stop spreading disease.
Typical conversation with our Autistic Spectrum Child regarding hand-washing and cold germs:
Parent: You just blew your nose, please wash your hands
Child: But, I didn’t go to the bathroom
Parent: Yes, but now you’ve got cold germs, and snotty nose on your hands
Child: That’s not part of the hand-washing rules
Parent: Yes, it is
Child: No it isn’t. You never said that before
Parent: I’m certain that I have, but that’s irrelevant. Wash your hands
Child: You need to be clearer about the rules
Parent: The rules are wash your hands when I say to; but, I will try to provide you with a list
This is followed by a brief splash in the sink that coats my walls with water and soap, but doesn’t actually clean his hands.
When I get a cold these days, typical sinus pressure puts an excessive amount of pressure on my already swollen brain, and it’s so painful that words used to describe it would have to include: death, murder, evil, horror, or anything in that genre. Alas, I spend a lot of time that I should be asleep, wide awake, and a lot of the time that I should be awake, tossing and napping on a dog-hair coated couch. And, I spend a lot of time doing weird stuff.
For example, I woke up this morning and found out that I’d purchased, at 3 am last night (this morning?) a pair of THINX panties. Scratch that, I purchased TWO pair. Apparently, I thought they were that great of an idea. Aren't all ideas at that hour, great ideas? Don’t get me wrong, in the light of day, I think they still sound pretty cool, but the sunlight Rachel would probably have considered it a little more deeply before investing in two pair.
The suffering Rachel, the comatose pain Rachel, the drugged Rachel thought they were peachy, and was wowed by the drawing of how they whisk the blood away! Apparently, these really neat underpants allow you to wear no feminine protection, because they are the protection. Depending on the type you buy, they absorb up to two tampons worth of blood, all while allowing you to feel dry.
I’m not going to lie, in the sunshine, I’m a little icked out by the idea, but I’m also game to try something new. I’m more game to try them on the days leading up to my period, those “do I have to wear a pad?” days. Those are the days where I'm stuck with a giant question mark and, what’s essentially a diaper, or running back and forth to the bathroom with “was that it?”
I was also all softened up by how they help women in places where there is little access to feminine protection. I’ve read, before, about how women in Africa can miss school once a month, for days at a time, for their periods. This is a way that women end up being kept down, both through lack of education, and employment. This company provides sustainable, reusable pads to Africa, and not only that, does it in a way that it’s a small business for women. Damn if I don’t have a soft spot for helping fellow women, in real, tangible ways.
Awww, I’m back on thinking my purchase was awesome again. I'll let you know how they pan out.
Then, when I woke up this morning, I thought it would be a great idea to take out all the trash in the house. I could barely move, but the trash was my number one priority. Screw peeing; the TRASH needed something! I wasn’t sure why, but it was more vital to me than my own physical needs.
So, I hobbled all over the house, and gathered all the trash into a big ol’ Target bag. Do these things mate and multiply when we aren’t looking? They must, because we have to pay for them where I live; so, I certainly don’t get that many of them. Yet, there they are, all the time!
When I’m in the kind of pain I’m in, I have a special kind of problem; I can’t bend over to look down; so, picture taking out all the trash in only squat maneuvers. Bending down makes the blood rush to my inflamed, swollen nerves, and it can make me pass out. Being home alone with my boy, that’s not something I was hoping would happen.
Thankfully, I got this strangely vital trash outside and into the big bin on the side of the house, just in time to wake up the child and get him ready for school. Then, I watched the garbage man drive by. That's right, he drove right by the bin nestled safely by the side of the house. I imagined him waving to our trash can, “see you next week, suckah!”
Yep, half of my mind engaged, and realized I should do something with trash. But the other half said, “nah, it's not really that big of a deal. I mean you bought weird underpants last night, you’re good.” Why would I only do half the job, and do it so intently? Because sick people do stupid stuff, that's why.
Being sick makes you do weird shit. I “slept” the full night through last night with the Golden Girls running on a loop, an ice hat wrapped around my head and the dog taking up more bed than me. I heard the cat barf sometime around 4 am, but I haven’t been able to find the location of this phantom barf, so I’ve decided it’s been cleaned up by angels (rather than look for it, of course). Then, I woke up to an undeniable urge to clean up trash. This is how I pass my time. Now, I’ll lay down for, likely, the entire day.
My son has a school assembly that I want to make it to tomorrow, and I’ve literally been resting up for it all week. A two-hour assembly has been my goal for five days. It’s all I care about, and the only thing on my calendar; I cancelled all my appointments for the week, in preparation for this day, and I have been resting nonstop. He, accidentally, saw his name on an award in the office, and he’s so proud that he’s practically bursting. So, while I may be tossing and turning all night, buying weird crap, and taking the trash out to nowhere, I’m NOT missing that assembly. I’ll make it if I have to drag myself there in my new, weird (but, maybe strangely effective?) underpants!
*By the way: no one pays me for any endorsements. Just FYI.