When the whumpee wants to resume working, but the caretaker won’t let them until they recover more. The whumpee asking the caretaker to let them rest somewhere other than their bed, and as soon as the caretaker leaves them there for a few minutes, the whumpee getting up and trying to do some things they’d brought home with them from work. The caretaker catching them almost immediately, and forcing the whumpee to go back to bed, then asking why they were so determined to start working again. The whumpee admitting that they’re bored and restless, and the caretaker trying to find them other things they can do without exerting themself, so they won't be so bored while they recover.
Today is day two, week two of my bed rest sentence. After some high blood pressures and a wonky urine protein ratio, I was told to go home and spend the majority of my remaining days of pregnancy mostly horizontal. I’m feeling pretty pissed off about the whole thing, as 1) I didn’t think we were still in the 1960s, and 2) I haven’t ever even met the crotchety old doc that put me on this program, 3) my blood pressures are always high, which I always have attributed to white coat hypertension. Anyways, I have read two books so far, my eyes hurt from staring at my ipad screen, I have journaled a significant amount (a plus), I have not started knitting (a minus). Being put on bed rest just came as a total surprise to me. Of course, the first thing I did after being told to ‘bed rest’ was email the doctor I have actually had appointments with to ask what the heck was going on. Of course, she supported her colleague and told me to remain on bed rest as well. Disappointing, but expected, I guess. So, here we are. I have an appointment this week with the doc I like, which has me feeling very anxious for some answers. Wish me luck.
I conned this beautiful, supportive man into a datenight on not-a-date night. I snagged him as he walked in the door with the smell of refried beans and rice with fish tacos on handmade tortillas. Really, he had no chance.
I pulled off the same con two nights in a row! Tonight (which was datenight), I got to take a trip to the pool for a poolside date alla beetroot and apple salad, some Misfit Market mushrooms and veggie patties, but he conned me right back. TWO game nights post-date?! Uho... I'm losing my touch.
Okay, but really, I love this man and how immensely supportive he's been throughout all of this. He respects me and my needs. He humors me when my idea of getting out of the house is going to the pool because I'm supposed to be on bedrest. He coddles me when the stupid surgeon does a test that sets my recovery back a few weeks. He does dishes when I can't stand looking at the kitchen any longer, and he walks miles and miles of redundant city hikes to promote my health. I owe him so much gratitude and I love him so much. Let's hear a round of applause for Kenny.
Whelp. It was my turn to be sick and for the kittens to take care of me. 😹 They pretty much have been keeping me in bed resting since Halloween and spoiling me with cuddles. I credit their hard work to my speedy recovery 😹 • #bedrest #sick #cats #catsofinstagram #cat #blackcat #greycat #graycat #orangecat #clowderofcats #clowder #nursekittiesonduty #nursekitties #mainecoon (at Badger, Minnesota) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkkTYA4NkSQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
Literally me plus with no voice! 😷😷😷 #jcdiaries💜 #downandsick #chapter9of12🍁 #fluseasonsucks😷 #bedrest #repost https://www.instagram.com/p/CiGHYDVJSCqKPyFawEwlAtQRwTrsJ5LxSTSvGc0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
Today’s doctor appointment was not what I was hoping for. I was hoping just allergies but not the whole case. Covid is still wrecking havoc on my body. My lack of appetite is part of it, the fact 4 weeks out I am still feeling sick. And my fever was coming back today. The lungs don’t sound right so I have to get an X-ray. To see damage and also I now have to see if my liver is swollen because that’s a Covid thing. And of course my kidneys. I feel exhausted and achy, it is taking a toll on me. My immune system is basically shot. So I can not get sick at all with other infections or viruses. I’m stuck on a 10 day recovery with steroids and nebulizers and inhalers. Which side note steroids could cause manic episodes. Not something my family or I need as a bipolar person. I am fed up with Covid. I am sick of being sick. The pain, the exhaustion, the cough, just all of it. my cat is trying to comfort me as best he can. This sucks. #covidbatte #covidlonghauler #covidbattle #covid_19 #covid #sickinbed #bedrest #longcovid #longcovidrecovery #longcovidsymptoms #longcovidawareness https://www.instagram.com/p/CgiWjKlrgT-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
Jonathan on the train to Klausenburg (May 3rd) vs Jonathan on the train from Klausenburg (July 3rd). My poor boy has been through so much but he's ALIVE!
Nothing much to do right now as I wait here on bed rest. I have been fancying myself a coffee-shop writer, but I start typing away and get self conscious. Doesn’t my writing suck? Would anyone even want to read this? Do I even want anyone reading this? But the romance of being an author has always been somewhat captivating to me. Sit in the coffee shop, ponder the dilemmas of humanhood, look like a hipster with the messenger bag and glasses and steaming cappuccino (dry, with actual milk please not that vegan almond milk-water). I have always loved to read. As a child I loved writing stories, as a teen I loved to blog, but as I have aged my self-consciousness has gotten the better of me. What if I reflect too deeply and end up hurting someone’s feelings? Or embarrassing myself? How do I write about myself without exposing the other individuals in my life who might not want to be exposed? This blog - for example - is supposed to be about being pregnant. But what happens after the kid is born? The natural thing would be to blog about parenting, but I don’t want my kid to accidentally (or purposefully) stumble across my trials and tribulations caused by parenting him/her. Kids don’t want to know that much about their parents. I don’t want to offend my kid before he/she is old enough to even defend him/herself. So what do writers do?
No, we have not found out the gender yet. We are going to let that be a surprise.
This week was rough on both me and my editor in terms of being busy, so might be a bit longer for the next chapter (8k words long whooo) so I wanna share the WIP and very first sketches I did for this fic. The covers! Can't wait to find the time to render these.