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I have a cold
and it has invaded my upper back.
I tell ya, it's the worst kind of cold to have. My back is stiff and painful. I'm taking Contact day and night for it, but it doesn't help much. I would rather have a full blown chest or head cold instead! :( Anyone else ever get this? |
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Like all colds, all you can do is treat the symptoms. Push fluids; whatever fever/pain reducer you take...and most of all....heat. Make certain you're wearing enough and if you have a heating pad, use it. If nothing else, a shower as hot as you can possibly stand it will help. Poor baby. :rose: |
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Thanks Morgan... it's not fun. I had one of these last winter too.
FB is taking good care of me, though. I got the Absorbine Jr treatment last night. *gasp* could it be that I'm at the age where I need to buy an electric blanket? |
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Why is it that when men are sick they're always "more" sick than us women? :scratchin lol
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Flame away, I'm far too busy to care. :) |
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Oh and sorry to hear you're not 100% Chris, I hope you feel better soon man. :)
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Men in this society are trained from birth to think and act a certain way. They've done studies that showed the nurses in the hospital nurseries even carry boy babies differently than they do girl babies. They carry girl babies much more tenderly and carry boys like they're heading for the goal line. There comes a time in most (I said "most," not "all") boys lives when he runs to his Dad for a hug and to his shock gets a handshake. Men are supposed to be strong; they're supposed to be providers; they're supposed to be protectors. (A woman who does the "stay at home Mom" thing is "exercising her options." A man who does the exact same thing, with just as much quality...is unemployed.) A lot of men are stripped of the essence of their being when they get sick and shoved into a role they aren't equipped to handle: being dependent and helpless. Nobody functions well when the rules suddenly change on them. When I get sick, or worse, am in pain, I'm allowed to cry. A while back, my husband had this idiotic accident involving a running cat and his foot attempting to go into a shoe. He had to jolt sideways to avoid hurting the cat and in doing so, ripped his big toenail right off. I cried, he didn't. Occasionally I mention that I wouldn't be a man for all the money in the world. How the hell can a person have a body part ripped right off and be in that much pain and not cry???? And, if the ladies will forgive me, it's also possible that being sick puts a man in a position for a little payback time. "I took care of YOU, now you take care of ME." I'll be over here with Trev when the flames start.... :unsure: |
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This actually has to do with Morgan's post, but before I forget ... Feel better, Chris! http://oprano.com/msgboard/images/smilies/smile.gif
There is "lonely" and there is "being alone". Some folks think they're the same thing. I'm sure most of the folks who consider it two seperate things at one time, when young, considered it the same thing. I know I had to learn it; luckily I learned it early. What's this have to do with men when sick? Living alone in Philly and later in NYC, I was "alone", but never felt "lonely". Until I got sick. http://oprano.com/msgboard/images/smilies/sad.gif Nothing sucks more than when one (especially a male!) is by himself and there's no one around to pamper him when he's sick. It's definitely a vulnerable, miserable rotten time. I felt cheated (if I didn't have a girlfriend at the time) because it indeed is the one time we men usually have that chance to "succumb and crumble" just a wee bit. http://oprano.com/msgboard/images/smilies/smile.gif Ok, now I'm going to be teased for being honest. On with it, ya bloody nancys! |
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I guess I'm just cunty when I'm well and really cunty when I'm ill :( Edit: A sudden memory return has me now knowing why I'm this way. I worked for my father for 11 years, lived with him for the first 2. Not much chance of time off for illness in that situation. ;) |
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I'm back, with coffee. :lyn_night
First, thank you for your honesty, Dravyk. :okthumb: The difference between "being alone" and "being lonely" is huge, and horrifying when one encounters it. Being sick strips you of your claim on adulthood. Everyone, male or female, is immediately turned into a child when they're sick. You've lost control over the one thing that is truly yours to claim: your body. Something as fundamentally simple as a cold (it's a virus, you can't prevent it, you can't cure it, but it's just a low-on-the-totem-pole virus) makes your body start doing all manner of disgusting, uncomfortable and painful things. This is the time when you want Mom (or whomever is playing the part of "Mom" in your own personal drama) to show up with the brand new boxes of tissue, the juice, the chicken soup, the "there, there, honey, you'll feel better soon." Whether you're male or female, you want this "Mom" person to show up. If the "Mom" person isn't there...welcome to true, agonizing loneliness. (You're not only sick as a dog, nobody loves you, you want to just eat worms and die.) When I was a child, I made quite the habit of getting strep throat. (I didn't find out how truly sick I was this time until I was an adult and my Mom told me.) My father came home from work and I can still see him peeking his head around the corner of my room. He'd brought me Three Muskateers bars and comic books. I began to improve immediately. Well, somewhere in the one-long-conversation-over-coffee that has been my marriage, I told my husband that story. He mentally filed it away...and pulled it out once when I got sick. He had to go to a Comic Book Shoppe to find Wonder Woman, but he found her, and bought me Three Muskateers bars. (Never "cry for happy" when your sick, it does lousy things to your sinuses.) :) Now, he just brings the candy and damned if it doesn't work. He doesn't get sick often, but once he was absolutely bedridden. I made homemade soup and went out and got him a stack of magazines...including Playboy and Penthouse. (That still ranks as one of my favorite shopping experiences...ah the facial expressions!) He would add a parenthetical note here never to laugh that hard when you've got bronchitis, it hurts like hell. Yes, men are quite the chore when they're sick, aren't they, ladies? However, what a lot of ladies don't realize is that they're looking in a mirror. I *know* I'm sullen and miserable to be around when I'm sick. All I want to do is curl up and die. I personally feel that I've done quite enough for the "having a condition cause," thank you very much, and should therefore be exempt from such pedestrian things as colds and the flu. However, that memo obviously wasn't sent out. Note to FB: this has nothing to do with you or your comment anymore. :) We've lapsed into one of those philosophical discussions that break out every one in a while. Note to everybody: chicken soup really does work. The Jewish mothers of the world weren't making that up. They tested the stuff in a laboratory and all the scientists went :o . |
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There are a lot of women who know that feeling, Trev. They're just as cunty when they're sick, too, because they have no options. :( |
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So much to say, but I'll save it. Not really anything new, would just be expounding on things said actually. However, one new thought -- and yet another Oprano tangent --
The thing about being stripped bare. Maybe it's from too much tv, movies and books also, but one thing I've always found a bit fascinating is the concept of amnesia. Usually it's handled in the entertainment "fantasies" as little more than an interesting plot line for that week. But every once in a great while you see that "plot" handled in a more interesting way (at least one novella comes to mind): What is a person like at his or her core when stripped away of everything else? For instance ... Having amnesia, does a real "leader" take command during a crisis? Duck and hide? Become just another follower? That sorta thing. And while I don't want amnesia. LOL! (And how would I remember if I had it, huh?) Makes one wonder, what would you, what would I, be like under those circumstances where there's just the pure unvarnished core? |
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It is not at all uncommon for diabetics to have a "pre-diabetes" stage where they suffer from hypoclycemia. Despite being the exact opposite of diabetes, it is often the precurser. Down through the ages, hypoglycemics have been hospitilized for everything including schizophrenia. When it hit me, what it gave me was...amnesia. It occured most often when I'd do what made my doctor groan when I told him: I'd start work, have a cup of coffee, a pastry from the box always there, and a cigarette. Caffeine, sugar and nicotine hit the bloodstream...and I'd go blank. I'd suddenly look around and realize I didn't know who I was or where I was. The only thing I knew for sure - and this may help to give one person's perspective on "what takes over" - is that if I just calmed down and didn't panic, it would all come back to me, which it always eventually did. I had an attack once when I was driving. I looked at my passenger, my then-boyfriend and had no idea who he was. I managed to say "I don't know where I'm going." (At the time it seemed like controlling the car was the primary issue.) He knew about the condition, and said "you're doing fine, keep going straight, turn right up here, etc." These "episodes" never lasted very long. (They can hit diabetics much, much worse, often resulting in a diabetic coma.) Now. Amnesia comes in kinds, from the "I don't know who or where I am" kind all the way to the "I don't know how to move my hands at will" kind. Does what I experienced give any insight into the "pure, unvarnished core" of myself? No clue. How did I know to think "if I just remain calm it will all come back to me"? No clue there, either, but that's exactly what I thought every time except for the car one, where I was only focused on driving the car and not killing the both of us, which definitely outranked whatever his name - or mine - happened to be. It's also not taken for granted that you'd forget having amnesia, which would result in you actually having amnesia twice, Dravyk. :) |
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It's nice to meet you, though. My name is...er...um...oh, my.... :o Gee, the sunflowers picture is pretty. Why is it there? Your picture is really nice, too, whoever you are. :blink: Will there be snacks? For some reason, I want carrot and celery sticks.... |
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You two worry me... and coming from me that should make you both worry... :unsure:
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Look, person I don't know...we now have another person I don't know! :) Do you two know each other? :blink: |
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When I was going through the 6 hour glucose tolerence test, they had to stop after the 5th hour. After my blood was drawn, I got up off the table and walked straight into the wall. :headwall: |
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Chris, I hope you feel better. Hot liquids will help you feel better. Either chicken soup or a hot toddy, Your choice. ;)
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I think he's a meanie pants! :(
Wait, there's a name coming to me ... Crumpled? Crumble head? |
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He's...he's....why, he's Crumplestiltskin! :o |
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Why am I not allowed to just delete you guys :(
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Can we be "deleted"? And if so, from what? Existance? Oh, my....there may be more to this Crumplestiltskin guy than I thought! :o |
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Oops. :blink: I think I need to research "corner, backed into a" very quickly.... |
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Of course, we forget what it does. |
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:bustingup That one was for me. *chortle* |
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I'm feeling a bit better today.
Good to see the rest of you have been taking your happy pills. :) |
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Apparently we've taken a combination of happy, sad, angry and confused pills in one swallow. That or we're all a bunch of manicly moody people -- and you just happened across us during a momentary upswing. http://oprano.com/msgboard/images/smilies/wwww.gif |
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*That's* going to run through my head for a while. It's got a clear shot, too. There's nothing else in there today. :waving: |
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While Chris may be sick, he will get better. As for the rest of you... :)
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