May 20th, 2020

blackhat

depression, health, bread notes, quaker notes

Monday morning i found my doctor had called our landline Friday night and left a message. I replied Monday morning, feeling a combination of frustration with myself and the system. Hearing nothing, i sent a brief health system message in the evening.

After work i made progress with the Buildings and Grounds committee: huzzah, there's a convenor who will take charge. I received an email from one of the public Friends in meeting that went into a long ramble about history of the meeting and that Pendle Hill pamphlet that i could not digest, but i fortunately found the real (?) message at the end,
I found myself wondering, “What exactly is ‘broke’ here that calls out for such a bustle of fixing?” I’m not sure I see it.

I perhaps replied with too much detail regarding each of the four points in the response that my mail client let me know took an hour to write. One thing that it makes me think of is a spouse who is like, "Woah woah woah, what's this with a chore list? Everything's been working fine!"

That *just* came to me. I've been feeling insecure up to this point. Now there's a little simmer of anger in realizing part of this: previous clerk was willing to make many many unilateral decisions and not bother anyone or just informally bother a few.

So that took me to midnight, well past my bedtime.


--== ∞ ==--

Tuesday morning, shortly after i was to start work i heard via the health system i had an appointment at 9:30am. I was feeling better, as i do in the morning, and set up everything i could to prepare for the video appointment. With 9 minutes i clicked start, tested video, microphone, and then the audio failed for me because my work computer has some very problematic audio driver i cannot eradicate. SO then i went through a bit of flailing - and passed Christine who had just rescued a songbird from Carrie's mouth -- and then overheard her exclaim as the bird died in her hands -- and finally had a set up. I waited for the doctor and then Christine let me know we'd briefly lost power and lost internet. I had a small fit, then set my computer to use my phone hotspot. The doctor connected shortly thereafter, while Christine confirmed the land line was live again -- just in time for the doctor to call me on that. SO YAY.

And the visit was better than i expected, with my expectation low due to patronizing comments before. This time he expressed interest in determining whether the asthma was asthma or a symptom. Given Mom's lung "honeycombing" and nodules and that her Antinuclear Antibodies (ANA) test came back positive/speckled/titer 1:80 (that's a small signal of something like SLE [lupus], Sjögren syndrome, scleroderma, polymyositis, rheumatoid arthritis, or mixed connective tissue disease), and that there's an genetic component, i am appreciative. This is "after the coronavirus calms down" so, whatever. So i have a five day dose of prednisone to help. I took it last night and have a splitting headache right now and still cough, but 12 hours is short even for miracle cures.

--== ∞ ==--

My therapist and i talked about lots of worries. Irritated by the cavalier attitude about children not having affects from being infected, i've been reflecting about how the viral impact of chickenpox can lead to shingles much later in life. That's lead to a little reading regarding reactivation of viruses such as the Nipah virus (never had heard of it), HSV-1, and HCoV (generic human coronaviruses): apparently they can persist in the central nervous system to be reactivated. [https://medium.com/microbial-instincts/decoding-virus-reactivation-insights-for-covid-19-68610b06dc65, https://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/doctor-note-coronavirus-reactivate-200412062905537.html] Christine didn't know about shingles: she had chicken pox, i did not. Joy. Anyhow, my therapist wondered at my seeming acceptance i could have an autoimmune condition -- but i've been wondering about that for a decade with the constellation of itches, rashes, sniffles, coughs.... the continuous sense of low-grade discomfort that i suspect all point to an overactive autoimmune system. Really, what leads me to despair is climate change. This virus affects humans, climate change is the whole earth.

Anyhow, we will keep talking.

--== ∞ ==--

I made my bread last night. My mental thoughts through the whole process are ... not optimistic. But i might be learning from slight signals. And i think i'm finally getting pleasant bread (although the tooth cracking quality of some of the whole rye grains is still an issue). I've learned my room temperature isn't enough to make the bread rise, so last night i tried a warmed oven. (Last bake time i had a warm day to leave it on the deck). The flash of hot baking then reducing the oven temp seems not helpful, so now i am baking for two hours at 350°F in covered pans. Making my own malt is a pain, but i think it really really improves. And i've learned to pulse some of the soaked rye in the blender. I might ought to do that with the malted rye too, but i keep mixing the malt with the sunflower seeds for the soak, and i like the whole sunflower seeds.