In that order exactly. Last week on my Mother’s birthday I left work early to go to her house to color the porcelain. Am I spelling that right? I give up. The toilet. I colored the toilet. Now before I class it up to much here, I will say this, it was not a flu, or a bout of food poisoning etc. I have something wrong with my intestines. Nice right? Yea it coincides with my cabin life and dreams wonderfully. I got to ride in an ambulance to the next town where upon arrival and meeting that town’s doctor felt fine. Shortly after being given my own room did the sickness return full bore. There was much crying and dry-heaving and pain. Honestly, it’s the sickest I’ve ever been in my life. Finally through my IV I was given the same stuff they give to recovering chemo patients which was my saving grace. Very quickly the pain subsided, and I could calm down enough to stop shouting things like, “What have I done to deserve this?! Why me!?”. Soon I was comatose lying on my little hospital bed looking into the garbage can I was holding but lying down, so head half in the garbage can (I figured if anything came on again this position would provide a minimal amount of movement on my end) and listening to the nurses, doctor and my mom saying, “well that worked fast.. etc.” The next day was a blur of sleep and more drugs. I recall wanting to not have drugs fed to me via IV anymore as it made my hand and arm numb, but couldn’t focus long enough to really stand up for myself, or do anything really. On day three when I was released in the afternoon I was finally given a bit of jello and broth and had woken up in the morning, and stayed up. On day four I got strep throat – which I’m still recovering from. Since leaving the hospital I was given a doctor’s note to give to my employers saying that I am not to work for a week. My guts are still pretty messed up and go back to work day is two days from now. ANYWAYS..
It is spring. With spring has come green grass, bears, tiny leaves shooting off willows and warm weather. I’ve been staying at my Mom’s in a moterhome (my other option is an uncomfortable love-seat) going north to check on my chickens and what not every other day. My mom comes with me (out of fear I might have another bout of the “sickness” I am not sure..) and upon seeing the state of the cabin and acreage thinks I am the most disgusting person on earth. “Why don’t you, How come you haven’t, you should.. ” I KNOW. I don’t exactly have time to pick up all of the things Borden ran off with in the winter, scrap lumber, tin, etc. And I KNOW. The chicken coop is more like a death coop. (I will note they aren’t in there anymore, with the help of some friends I moved the run away from the coop to new greener, fresher digs to which they call home now.. ) I KNOW all the things that need to be done. Before this whole being ill thing took on I only had one hour of usable time in the day where I’m not driving, working or sleeping. In that hour I tend to stare into space blankly. It’s kind of nice actually that one hour. I think, oh when the mountain man comes yodeling down from the tree tops to save me, he will clean this up, yeaaaa that’s right. Well since I’ve had a week off to do nothing but sulk and look at my life and be sick. I’ve come to this realization. I would not want to date me. No siree. If I came to my cabin for the first time and saw how I lived and how disgusting it was? I would run.
This week to look at my life has made me realize some things. I am not ready to see new people. (or any people..), I need to take better care of myself, I need to put some effort into making things better for myself. The whole idea of the cabin is to work like a dog for ten years until it’s paid off and then magically I’ll have a self-sustainable small farm and homestead paid for. In my week off when I’ve gone up there to check on chickens and what not I thought, “Oh God what am I doing”. I don’t know how to carve the time out of my day to make things better, among that, some (mostly all) the things I need help with, I need some carpentry skill. Or another set of hands. This whole cabin life thing is daunting indeed. I’m not giving up (not even after my last post/rant) I’m just adjusting my aim and pushing harder. Pushing myself harder (mentally for now, physically when I feel better).
I don’t have any new pictures to post as I’m borrowing a laptop to even write this, and they don’t want me uploading the 23742374 pictures that are on my phone. I don’t have any witty inspiration or any real progress on anything. Which kind of seems to be my usual these days. What I do have is a big thank-you to the people who read and comment on this blog. I’m sorry I don’t respond to the comments but know that they are greatly appreciated.