Jun. 29th, 2011

marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)

If I am driving and someone yells "hey, asshole! You've got a flat tire!" at me, I will be upset by their rudeness and may mark them down on my mental list of people I don't like, but I will also immediately look at my tire to see if it's flat, and if necessary I will pull over and put the spare tire on.  Because the substance of what they said matters more than how they said it.

If I am having a discussion and someone says "hey, asshole, that's racist," or something similarly rude, and I get upset by their rudeness *without* stopping to examine my own words or actions in light of their accusation of racism, that would mean that I care more about a flat tire than about whether I'm perpetuating racism.

It's not that I think rudeness is awesome.  But it's a lot more awesome than racism, and if a particular discussion can only focus on one or the other--as is so often the case--it's better to focus on racism.
 

marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)
I've been increasingly fatigued lately, and just chalked it up to generic tiredness--lack of sleep, too much work stress.  I have always had the habit of leaning on nearby furniture when standing up for a long time, but in the past three weeks I've taken to also sidling up to walls so I can lean against them.  This is much harder to do in a casual way than leaning against a desk, particularly in an open-plan office, so I've had to explain that I'm tired a couple of times to people.

Then a couple of days ago I was playing trains on the floor with Charlie, which involves sitting on the rug and pushing a train on a track and saying "choo choo."  He supplies all the enthusiasm and I don't need to budge from the same spot while playing, so it's hardly a taxing endeavor.  But I found myself feeling exhausted and also very bored--like, really wanting to get up, move around, put on laundry, and do some other kinetic things.  That seemed strange to me, because my internal "I'm lazy" narrative would suggest that sitting on the floor would be my preferred activity when I'm tired.

So I checked my breathing with my peak flow meter and found myself in the yellow zone - that is, the zone that says it's time to use an inhaler.  No coughing, no wheezing, no symptoms that I've ever recognized as asthma symptoms.  Damn it!  And looking back I see a pattern of increasing tiredness for the past two months--basically, starting a month after I went off my inhaled steroid.  Google tells me that atypical asthma symptoms include sighing, anxiety attacks, fatigue, lack of concentration...I've spent a couple of months wondering if I'm depressed, but since my mood has been fine it's been very puzzling. Until now.  

So it seems that I may have this low-level constant pre-attack thing happening. I'm seeing my doctor tomorrow night to ask if I can go back on my steroid, and I'm taking a dose tonight because I'm pretty sure she's gonna say yes.

Normally I try not to be irritated with loved ones for unknowingly harming me, but I have to admit I'm irritated right now with all five of the smoking family members I shared a home with as a child. Grumble grumble passive smoke grumble.

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