I’m being haunted by lawn mowers. They’re everywhere I go as if they’re chasing me. Kansas, after all, is a prairie, even in suburbia.
This morning was a lovely morning, cool yet sunny. As I stood waiting for the bus, there was a man mowing that little strip of grass between the street and the sidewalk. My eyes started to well up, my nose started to run.
I didn’t dare go out for lunch and leave the nice, air-conditioned air of the office building.
When I caught my bus this evening there were a bunch of men on those giant industrial mowers, the kind where you stand on the back, mowing right by the bus stop. And when I got off the bus at the dry cleaners to pick up my suits, and then walked the mile home – it seemed as though every block had at least one lawn mower going.
This is crazy.
I’m supposed to be dealing with “real” medical issues here. Or, I’m supposed to be living in absolute glee that I’m not dealing with “real” medical issues. How is it possible that it seems as though my work life, my very brain, is completely incapacitated by something as mundane as seasonal allergies? You’ve got to be kidding me!
But, that’s where I’m at. I’m doing a very good impression of the spacey blonde. Today I missed several mistakes in articles that were no brainers. I should have caught them. I should have known that the lead in one article was awful. I should have remembered that company X changed its name three weeks ago. But I didn’t. I can’t think straight.
I had hoped that my visit to the doc. would have yielded some sort of solution. I hoped I’d complain about how wonky all this allergy medication is making me and the doctor would say, “Oh, well then, we should put you on such and such – fewer pills and no fatigue.” And presto, the problem would be solved.
Instead I got almost the identical lecture Kevin gave me after my little medication strike. Take the meds. You can’t not take them. Everyone seems to be worried that if I stop taking all this stuff, not only will I be the hive woman, but my airway is going to somehow swell shut, or the allergies are going to mess with my breathing. Okay, I have to admit, it’s a reasonable concern. Even on all the meds I was puffing the abuderol to make it through the gauntlet of mowers.
I judge how my breathing is doing based on how easy or hard it is to do things I do all the time, like walking to the grocery store. It’s a mile walk with a gentle up and down grade. Usually I can do it at a nice pace, not even get out of breath, and not feel like crap when I get home. When I started the trial I always got winded by the time I got home and felt so tired afterwards that I felt as though I needed a nap. Since being on the study drug that’s improved – but today I was back to panting. It must be the grass.
This morning was a lovely morning, cool yet sunny. As I stood waiting for the bus, there was a man mowing that little strip of grass between the street and the sidewalk. My eyes started to well up, my nose started to run.
I didn’t dare go out for lunch and leave the nice, air-conditioned air of the office building.
When I caught my bus this evening there were a bunch of men on those giant industrial mowers, the kind where you stand on the back, mowing right by the bus stop. And when I got off the bus at the dry cleaners to pick up my suits, and then walked the mile home – it seemed as though every block had at least one lawn mower going.
This is crazy.
I’m supposed to be dealing with “real” medical issues here. Or, I’m supposed to be living in absolute glee that I’m not dealing with “real” medical issues. How is it possible that it seems as though my work life, my very brain, is completely incapacitated by something as mundane as seasonal allergies? You’ve got to be kidding me!
But, that’s where I’m at. I’m doing a very good impression of the spacey blonde. Today I missed several mistakes in articles that were no brainers. I should have caught them. I should have known that the lead in one article was awful. I should have remembered that company X changed its name three weeks ago. But I didn’t. I can’t think straight.
I had hoped that my visit to the doc. would have yielded some sort of solution. I hoped I’d complain about how wonky all this allergy medication is making me and the doctor would say, “Oh, well then, we should put you on such and such – fewer pills and no fatigue.” And presto, the problem would be solved.
Instead I got almost the identical lecture Kevin gave me after my little medication strike. Take the meds. You can’t not take them. Everyone seems to be worried that if I stop taking all this stuff, not only will I be the hive woman, but my airway is going to somehow swell shut, or the allergies are going to mess with my breathing. Okay, I have to admit, it’s a reasonable concern. Even on all the meds I was puffing the abuderol to make it through the gauntlet of mowers.
I judge how my breathing is doing based on how easy or hard it is to do things I do all the time, like walking to the grocery store. It’s a mile walk with a gentle up and down grade. Usually I can do it at a nice pace, not even get out of breath, and not feel like crap when I get home. When I started the trial I always got winded by the time I got home and felt so tired afterwards that I felt as though I needed a nap. Since being on the study drug that’s improved – but today I was back to panting. It must be the grass.
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