bad blogger, bad, bad!

this is pretty much a fake, tossed off post as illness, workcrunch and my building wireless have all conspired against me and I really, really, really would do anything to get that headshot from the last post off the blog - it was never meant to headline more than a day or two.

i've been dabbling in socks, lately, but my problems seems to be that i make one...and then find new yarn....and then make another in the new yarn. luckily, i've been on an orange kick so i might be able to semi get away with all the mis-matches, should no one look too closely.

there - aren't you all relieved that you no longer have to look at that cleavage? i know i am!

randomness

ok, i decided to do the exhibitionist blog thing, so welcome to the world of total blog commitment/total ramble this evening -

1. is it really beside the point to knit yourself a comfort shawl? should i admit that is what i'm doing? is it sad? am i now not only a single mother of the two youngest at home, overworked, semi-self-isolated facing various medical issues AND knitting myself a comfort shawl? at least there's only one cat in the picture. (that would be to the right, the deliciously evil, non-posing, passive-aggressive, beautiful Boudica).

2. is it still diverting to watch House post last week's medical fun adventure? it's one thing to be amused by the near death experiences and random medical treatments with snappy dialogue when relatively well, another thing entirely after being pumped full of Heparin due to an incorrect diagnosis a day before the recall. hmmm.

3. should i even ask if the cobblestone pattern could be replicated by doing a zimmerman with garter trim as appropriate? i really need to knit this year's yarn for the steakburger boy - tho by now, even in michigan, it will have to be sized for next year. does that mean i'm actually ahead of myself by all that frogging? do i really have to hunt down that particular interweave knits mag from the pile and check or should i just wing it? this is inspired by a beautiful paredown of the cobblestone from earthchicknits in ann arbor yarny types, if i'm ever uber comptuter literate, i'll try to figure out how to link. i think it might work with the three colour twist that frustrated haiku and the boring k1p1 raglan i attempted earlier.

4. amusing things about being on high dose steroids:

• i can finally give up that dream of a professional baseball career
• i can enjoy the looks from colleagues as my brain to mouth filter completely vanishes
• i get to do this fun no sugar/complex carb diet
• i find myself eating like a teenage boy, but nothing fun. i think i'd hurt someone for a bowl of irish oatmeal.
• you don't want to know what i'd do for a cadbury dairy milk

this was meant as a knitting blog...

but the medical just keeps piling up - so, do i rant about whether or not a spit felt will suffice to splice my kid classic, the misdiagnosis and extreme scare of pulmonary embolism as of last week or next tuesday's lung biopsy thing and the fun of an almost certain sarcoid diagnosis confirmation? to quote myself "nine out of ten people with sarcoid issues don't die from them"

argh. i want a smoke. i want a glorious, semi-butch Camel cigarette. and the bitch of it all is, most smokers do NOT develop sarcoid issues. quitting smoking, my chronic thyroidism and that whole most nordic person imaginable thing have seemingly conspired to do me in. or at least, the one person out ten...

so, can I spit splice kid classic? i'm coming up to a join on a quick shawl i'm making myself and really need an answer.

medications: freeing or masochistic indulgence?

i react to meds, badly. always have had. one of the great stories of my first marriage involved muscle relaxers and a crowded movie theatre where he and i ended up in the second row, center for the original Batman. whatever you imagine probably isn't enough.

at the moment i'm reeling from the steroids and ridiculously heavy duty antibiotics given to me on Monday for my latest diagnosis (pneumonia) of this never ending winter. this is the follow up to a few days of some super antibiotic given in late january, which i was told would prevent the bronchitis from turning into pneumonia. (let us all observe a moment of wry silence).

aside from a weird feeling of relief at the diagnosis (i had been feeling beyond bad for ages, it was almost comforting to know there was a real reason for coming home and collapsing by 7:30) the cure is proving almost worse.

i am literally out of my head while on these medications. verbal filter (thought to speech) almost gone. heart racing. dizzy. and of course i'm working thru - took off one day, and then worked half days, and then a full day on Friday. i can do that, because i have these terribly effective medications. (and am a masochistic idiot).