Feb. 13th, 2018

the_rck: (Default)
Getting to the dentist yesterday almost did me in. There was a bus pulling up to the stop when we were close enough that Cordelia could run for it, and she did. I only made it because someone else got the driver to wait. The ride to central campus wasn't long enough for me to catch my breath, so the 3.5 blocks from the bus to the dentist's office were hard.

Cordelia made things a little harder by getting cranky with me for being slow, for walking behind her. She wanted to walk next to me, but the sidewalks weren't always clear enough for that to be safe. She also had forgotten the way to the dentist. I must admit to being a little disconcerted by that. We've been going to that dentist all of her life, and I know she's wandered the nearby shopping area with her friends. Also, it's a straight walk from the bus, not one single turn after one crosses the street from the bus stop.

I'm trying to fill out this LTD paperwork. It's daunting because there's so much that needs to go in there.

I also really need to talk to my doctor. My right hand, the entire arm from the shoulder down actually but mostly the hand, is feeling wrong. It's not quite numb. It feels more like it's about to become numb. I've known that something was wrong with my right shoulder for months, but I haven't had the brain cells to register it as urgent or even more than just everyday pain. It's not worse than regular pain, just consistently in one place for a long time. Most pains clearly related to doing something or are things that happen for a few hours and then are gone for days or even weeks.

Paying attention to most of these things is like paying attention to headaches. There's a certain basic nuisance level that registers as utterly normal. What counts as 'nuisance level' expands when I have other problems that are more obviously impeding my ability to function. The last 6-8 months, it's been exhaustion and problems with executive function.

The fact that I never have a chance to talk to Scott about any of it when Cordelia's not around hasn't helped. If I show any sign of something wrong when she's around, she freaks and blames herself. Me not being able to talk to Scott means having zero options for anyone to help me figure out what's important. He just assumed that nothing was wrong for months. I'd have told him, he thought, if something was going on.

I need to get him alone and beat him over the head with the idea that he needs to pay attention, too, because my brain going offline is a Problem.

Heat on my right shoulder is helping the weird feeling further down the arm. My suspicion is some sort of pinched nerve. There's been something off for a very long time, but I could avoid problems by just not doing certain things.

Oh, and I rather strongly suspect that it's not carpal-tunnel because it improves with use and gets worse the longer I go without moving. So, hey, encouragement to type.

Apart from the paperwork, I need to do laundry and to get the trash and recycling out to the curb. Oh, and I still have to call my stepfather to wish him a belated happy birthday.

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