My extraordinarily ordinary life!
My head is pounding, my eyes are itchy, my nose is stuffy and my throat is scratchy. Lovely eh? All this after taking hayfever meds.
This is the only thing I don’t like about Spring! I may just take myself off to bed and attempt to sleep this off. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day!
I injured myself yesterday and Spam was to blame. No, not that spam, not the one of the emailed variety.
Yesterday was all about turkey (yes, I’m still trying to rid myself of the leftover turkey that was languishing in the fridge and not preserved cryogenically in the freezer) fried rice and Spam. All my joy and anticipation (turkey fried rice was a favourite) melted away when my forearm was splattered with hot oil from the frying Spam. It hurt. A lot. And if I’m honest, I was more worried that my arm will look more speckled than usual because of the Spam battle scars! My mom warned me yesterday to take care of the blisters as they might be infected. So I will be careful…or at least, I will TRY to be careful!
But there it is. Me injured (again) in the name of food and cooking!
This week has been a wash out. A complete washout. I haven’t been to work this week because I was in hospital overnight Monday night.
I’ve had a niggling headache for a couple of weeks and it all came to a head on Saturday. I just starting feeling horrible and everything was out of kilter. Then I started losing all the food that I was trying to eat. And it went on throughout the weekend. I didn’t want to worry my family in Manila so I had to keep fairly still when I was chatting to them on Skype so that I wouldn’t feel nauseous. On Monday, I decided to go see the doctor because I still had the headache and I was still throwing up. I thought it was another stomach bug that I’d caught while commuting as the people I travel with on the trains have no sense of infection control.
At the doctor’s surgery, I was examined and told that I had to go to the hospital because my blood sugar was sky high and because my symptoms pointed to something more serious. It was slightly worrying because at that point I thought all I had was a bug. So I took myself off to the hospital where I was told that they wanted to keep me overnight for observation. So they popped an IV cannula in my arm to prepare me for what might be an insulin drip or something else. From what I understood from the doctors, they wanted to rule out any neurology problems caused by either a throat or a lung infection, or something else. It was the undiscussed “something else” that I didn’t like. I didn’t like not knowing. The fact that I was asked to do the Romberg test three times was a tiny bit worrying. I only breathed a sigh of relief when the consultant said that my Romberg test showed “nothing of concern”.
I hate hospitals. It reminds me of illnesses, deaths of family members and my brother being always ill when he was little. But there I was, in NHS haute couture (aka a pink hospital gown that opens in the back), with a cannula (IV needle) stuck in my arm. I felt really sorry for myself because hospitals in the UK are different from hospitals in the Philippines. Hospitals in the Philippines allow for “watchers” to stay with the patient, hospitals in the UK don’t. Mind you, I understand why people aren’t allowed to stay in the hospitals. It all boils down to infection control. So there I was, with a pounding headache, feeling completely sorry for myself and an iPhone that was running out of juice! It was a good thing I had my Kindle with me because otherwise, I would have been bored out of my mind! In hindsight, I found it funny that what I was most worried about was that my iPhone was running out of power. I think, subconsciously, I just didn’t want to think about what was wrong with me.
I know it might sound inconsequential, but one of the reasons I disliked being in hospital was the food. Hospital food is meant to nourish the body and not necessarily ambrosial! I was famished because after tossing my cookies for two days, I, basically, hadn’t eaten anything for days! So the evening I was admitted into hospital, I wasn’t really looking for anything to eat. I did appreciate it when a lady wielding an efficient looking trolley of hot drinks asked if I wanted a cup of tea. There is nothing more comforting than an cup of strong, milky tea! Breakfast was whole wheat toast and a small bowl of bran flakes swimming in milk. Lunch was minced beef, with boiled potates and vegetables with a bowl of rice pudding for dessert. Lunch wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t inspired either, and dessert was just not right for a diabetic because it was overly sweet. Don’t worry, I didn’t have any of it, save the little taste that I had.
I was placed in a ward but was in a side room all by myself. Mind you, I thought that was a good thing because, after I was settled into my room I started bawling my eyes out. There I was, a grown woman, wanting my mummy!
I was told the following day that I could be discharged and that after all the tests and a CT scan, it was only an atypical migraine. My blood sugar skyrocketing was due to the fact that I was throwing up and not keeping my meds in (at least, that’s my theory, and not the medical professionals’!). I still have a headache that comes and goes and I think I may need to see the doctor again because my headache still hasn’t gone completely. Although, that being said, it’s no longer a pounding, head-splitting pain and is more bearable with pain meds.
It was sort of a turning point experience because it made me look at how I’m taking care of myself. I can’t really deny that I am a diabetic and I can’t go on living the way I live. I can’t miss my medicines. I really need to watch what I eat and my excuse that if I eat in moderation whatever I want will no longer work. And I know I can still bake, but I need to bake more savoury things than the sweet things that I enjoy making. I need to take care of myself. I really need to. Otherwise, I will find myself in an even worse predicament than I found myself this week!
What a week it has been!
Three days into the new year, I am ill again!
I woke up at some point in the wee hours of the morning shivering. Literally. I woke myself up because I was shaking from the cold so badly! I did try to go to work this morning. I dragged myself from bed, albeit feeling a bit light-headed because of the awful pounding in my head, placed myself under a hot-ish shower and washed myself clean. I performed the necessary morning ablutions, dried and styled my hair (as is necessary!) and attempted make up (mind you, I don’t put much on because I just moisturise, put on liquid foundation, finishing powder, put on eyeliner and a bit of lipgloss–my make up routine was much more complicated when I lived in the Philippines!). I got dressed and put on shoes, scarf and coat and was out the door on time (7:02AM on the dot!). I was about 100 yards from my flat when I realised that my head was pounding too much for me to function and that I genuinely felt horrible.
I made the decision to go back and dive back into bed. Thankfully, a ministering angel made me breakfast and a lovely bolstering cup of coffee and made me drink meds. I called in at 8:26AM and told myself not to feel guilty about being ill. If you’re ill, you’re ill and you’re better off at home and not infecting anyone else—whatever this is!
I’m hoping I can shake this bug and that all I need is one day in bed. There are too many things that need to get done!
I called in sick today because I got up and my head was absolutely pounding and I felt absolutely horrible. Nevertheless, I soldiered on. I jumped into the shower and went through the motions and got ready for work. 30 minutes into my morning rituals, I just sank into bed and said to myself that I was well and truly too ill to even finish getting ready. I got back into my bed clothes and dived back into bed. I got up after a couple of hours and only to call in sick. I didn’t feel human until nearly lunch time.
I forced myself out of bed and tried to just sit up. I knew that the longer I stayed in bed, the more I would feel horrible. I knew my body well enough. If I gave it a chance to wallow in illness it would wallow until it was well and truly pruney! So I got up. I thought I’d do a spot of baking because baking always made me feel better. Although, as an afterthought, I was breaking an unofficial rule that I followed: never to cook or bake when I’m not feeling well (whether it was illness or just a general tiredness)! I thought doing a spot of recipe development would help me feel better.
I’ve been trying to develop this base recipe. So far, it’s worked for banana bread, blueberry cake, and apple sauce cake. I recently baked a lemon and poppy seed cake and had a few leftover lemons and loads of poppyseeds so I thought I’d bake another lemon and poppy seed cake. I had this great idea that I’d try making mini lemon and poppy seed bundt cakes using my lovely mini-bundt cake tin. I’ve only used it once, making my Lola Lucing’s torta cebuana (which reminds me, I need to try making them again!).
So off I went and baked. I think they turned out quite well, except the seemed to be a tiny bit drier that I wanted them to be. I think the tweak needs to be that the temperature needs to be a bit lower and there needs to be more syrup for the cakes to soak in. But otherwise, they looked adorable! I didn’t necessarily feel better after baking because I felt even more shattered if that was at all possible. I’m not exactly going to complain though because I made 12 beautiful mini bundt cakes and 4 cupcakes as a result!
Yellywelly 