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Aug. 26th, 2008 01:13 pmI'm home. I've been fully diagnosed. I know the cause. I know the consequences. I'm in no danger of being raced back to hospital. Give me three weeks for the various medications to kill this thing dead (well, to get me back to normal state - it's not actually something that's killable dead) and I shall be a happy chappy. I'll take it easy this week (except when I'm teaching) and by Conflux no-one will know anything has been wrong.
For the next few weeks I shall wander the world waering my cortisone shape again. The doses are bigger this week, but the shape will remain the same. If you tell me I have put on weight, then I shall get revenge.
In fact, I have new rules for the next few weeks:
1. the only wine I'm allowed to drink is really, really wonderful red (lowest in histamines)
2. my skin is only a topic of conversation if you intend to map interesting surfaces
3. I have a stock answer to about six different questions "Yes, I am flushed." I am getting curious assumptions of why I'm flushed, but the truth is that it is the by-product of skin not protecting the body.
4. I am no longer creating piles of skin - your time for Great SF Research is over.
I had others, but the injection the doctor gave me is taking effect and I am about to puddle into my loungechair for a bit.
You do need to know that old school friends (on Sunday) did indeed recognise me with no trouble. One elderly soul who was not at school with me thought I had put on weight since the last time she saw me (when I was significantly larger back then). In fact, all she said was "You've put on weight" and moved on to someone else. Another looked at me and said "You've changed your hairstyle." I apologised for it, but did explain that it had been thirty years since she had last seen me. It might have been longer. Last time she saw me I probably had amazingly thick hair that was sittable upon. Only one person called me by any name belonging unto my sisters.
My great piece of restraint on Sunday was not asking the teacher who used to teach me Phys Ed why she didn't let me play on the hockey team thirty something years ago. I refrained because she was *so* impressive and she remembered me and every other Camberwell High School ex-student there. For the record, I was only sporty on school athletics day and that sporticism only lasted as long as it took me to do a 100 metre sprint.
I'm sorry I'm wafting around and not making much sense. It isn't just the skin being so strange. I took an early plane here and have spent 4 hours since doing medical things (mostly waiting). It all goes in 4s. 4 hours sleep; 4 hours travel; and 4 hours medical stuff.
Tomorrow I'll stop with the medical updates. It's about time I reclaimed the rest of my life.
For the next few weeks I shall wander the world waering my cortisone shape again. The doses are bigger this week, but the shape will remain the same. If you tell me I have put on weight, then I shall get revenge.
In fact, I have new rules for the next few weeks:
1. the only wine I'm allowed to drink is really, really wonderful red (lowest in histamines)
2. my skin is only a topic of conversation if you intend to map interesting surfaces
3. I have a stock answer to about six different questions "Yes, I am flushed." I am getting curious assumptions of why I'm flushed, but the truth is that it is the by-product of skin not protecting the body.
4. I am no longer creating piles of skin - your time for Great SF Research is over.
I had others, but the injection the doctor gave me is taking effect and I am about to puddle into my loungechair for a bit.
You do need to know that old school friends (on Sunday) did indeed recognise me with no trouble. One elderly soul who was not at school with me thought I had put on weight since the last time she saw me (when I was significantly larger back then). In fact, all she said was "You've put on weight" and moved on to someone else. Another looked at me and said "You've changed your hairstyle." I apologised for it, but did explain that it had been thirty years since she had last seen me. It might have been longer. Last time she saw me I probably had amazingly thick hair that was sittable upon. Only one person called me by any name belonging unto my sisters.
My great piece of restraint on Sunday was not asking the teacher who used to teach me Phys Ed why she didn't let me play on the hockey team thirty something years ago. I refrained because she was *so* impressive and she remembered me and every other Camberwell High School ex-student there. For the record, I was only sporty on school athletics day and that sporticism only lasted as long as it took me to do a 100 metre sprint.
I'm sorry I'm wafting around and not making much sense. It isn't just the skin being so strange. I took an early plane here and have spent 4 hours since doing medical things (mostly waiting). It all goes in 4s. 4 hours sleep; 4 hours travel; and 4 hours medical stuff.
Tomorrow I'll stop with the medical updates. It's about time I reclaimed the rest of my life.