Three good things.
1. It's Friday so I can sleep in tomorrow.
2. I am going to go ceilidh dancing with J tomorrow.
3. Some sort of decision has been made on the loan, I THINK. Only, you know, 9 months after we originally submitted it. So we might be able to buy a house. Or I might now know for sure I need to beg my relatives for money. Or maybe they just put a note in the online application and that was it.
4. The Sadler's Wells flamenco festival has started! J and I broke it in tonight with Eva Yerbabuena, ole!
I got out of the shower this afternoon, did a check, and NOT A SPOT ON ME.
Not swollen, no weird blotchy bits on my face, no feeling of the histamines running around under my skin.
I'm actually feeling really cheered up because of this. It's been, what, since Valentine's day? I'd go back and check but it seems like it's been that long since I haven't at least had some background "Hi I'm still here" welts on my thighs.
Jesus, what a relief.
I'll note that I voluntarily changed my medicine regime a few days ago to start taking antihistamines immediately when I felt itchy rather than waiting until the 12 hours has passed, and I think I'm seeing results - I've upped my daily dose by about a third. I'll check with the doctor on Thursday about whether or not this is going to ruin my liver. It's sure good for my head, I'll say that.
I was down enough last night that I was casting around desperately for things I could do that would cheer me up, and I chose going ceilidh dancing. Jason thought it sounded fun (he was supposed to come over and I was going to do tacos) but was worried about my energy level. I wasn't sure what it would be like, but figured if I got worn out, we would go home. I've also spent all day taking it really easy to conserve my energy for later tonight, but I'm actually feeling quite optimistic right now that I'll get at least two hours in. That makes me feel good.
Also, taking a shower, I was remembering that part of what I needed to do as my recovery plan was to work on trying to get my body in shape again after the muscle atrophy caused by all of the extended inability to exercise. So I should probably look at this a little more seriously again. The endorphins are really good for me, that's for sure. I'm a month off from where I wanted to be - I was supposed to go swimming this week (per the schedule I made before Valentine's day when I thought I was very close to being done with this) but cancelled it as my skin had been in such bad shape I didn't want to aggravate it any further - but maybe it's time to get some more exercise scheduled. I signed up for some walking groups yesterday, and I'm thinking about a few kayaking expeditions for (the warm part of) this summer ... all good stuff to look forward. Now if I can just get my body to play along nicely, I might to start being able to feel more in control.
Oh yeah. Talked to my friend Brendan for an hour an a half today. Aside from the fabulous loyalty stuff he said, he noted: "If you are really at the mercy of your adrenaline system, a lot of your more bizarre behavior makes sense as your fight or flight system taking over." And he's right. The flight is to get away from things that stress me out, because, my God, my brain just does loops; the fight is when I want to stand there and say, "I'm not going to take this any more!" In either case, my body still shits out because of the adrenaline making me me sick (there is no winning response), but I think Brendan's analysis as right: insofar as I've been a prisoner of the meat sack, it's been my adrenaline glands that have been running the show for the last four months, no doubt about it.
Anyway, soon I'm going to find a cute dress and get gussied up for a night out dancing. I'm excited. :-)