Poke poke

Day one of acupuncture: Had to take socks off for ankle access. Warmth with bare feet? When its 1 tiny degree outside? Priceless. Needles? Meh. They are part of the deal. Recalling a friend’s lousy experience, I almost asked if I could test my buzzer. ALMOST. But then chickened out. Maybe fell asleep. I feel refreshed, anyway. My internal lady parts don’t feel any different, but then, I didn’t feel them to begin with. Moreover, I don’t want to. I’m considering it an “up,” all and all.
I think this is day 4 of morning shots (also part of the process). I have lost count. I was reminded of this when I couldn’t figure out which side to poke myself on and just guessed. I’m supposed to alternate. But at my early hour of waking, I’m foggy about the previous day’s poke. I don’t really feel them during or after, so I guess alternating isn’t that critical.
For however many days it has been, this morning shot is the second thing that pops into my mind when I wake up in the morning. The first is my kid. I have a bad case of the “phantom cries.” See, we don’t use a baby monitor anymore. He’s right down the hall and I can hear him if he needs me. Also, there is a balcony right across from his room, so his cries carry downstairs quite well too. I used to be able to look at the monitor and see if it was lighting up when I thought I heard something, but now I can’t and I guess I don’t trust my ears or something.
First thing in the morning, I guess I’m never quite sure if I’ve woken up because my body has decided its time or because my subconscious mind has heard distress calls. So I lay there anxiously, listening REALLY hard, trying to decipher if I am hearing things or hearing him or what. This morning, turns out it was nose whistling. The hubs has a cold. Humph. Do all moms have this? Am I going to “hear things” from my kid for the rest of my life? Maybe it’s just me. Because come to think of it, before he died, I used to wake up straining to hear if the dog was breathing. This went on for months. In moments panic (that later became near-relief as we got close to the end) I’d contort myself to peer at his chest to see if it was moving. I gotta say, waking up in fear of death or distress is no way to face the day. Hit me with your cures. I’m game.
Oh, some ladies in the blogging world (here and here) have inspired me to start a little project. It should be easy. “Should be” are the operative words here. Maybe some of you will join me. Tweet me if you do (@shortstacksarah) ’cause I’ll post these there too. Here goes.
#365feministselfie Take 1: Workday with ceiling tiles.

#365feministselfie Take 1: Workday with ceiling tiles. (1/365)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s