Another Rambling Post

I need to vent.  I have been working really long hours between the sign shop and my agricultural job.  I’ve been walking 7 miles a day in corn fields for the ag  job and my body is tired. I now have plantar facitis.  Thursday,  I worked 9 hours in the sign shop and went to the other job to put in three more hours.   I was carrying a box into the field (wearing my tennis shoes instead of the regular hiking boots) and tripped on a rock and went flying.  I immediately felt pain in my left rib cage but landed on my hands and knees.  I worked Friday but was in severe pain.  I rested most of the weekend.

When I awoke yesterday,  I couldn’t take a breath without intense pain.  My mom talked me into going to urgent care where they immediately did an ekg. Their machine was  old and the tech had a hard time getting the machine to respond.  She kept pushing on the leads to make it work. The medical assistant came back and said there were suspicious readings and that I should go immediately to the emergency room but I should be ok to drive.  All the way there I’m thinking that no one on either side of my family has heart problems and surely this can’t be a heart attack because I’m driving myself. 

The ER gets me in quickly after I get through the metal detector (I live in a rough city). They do another ekg which takes all of one minute and put me in a room after getting a urine sample.  They then take blood and a chest xray.  They put me back in the room and hook me up to a heart monitor and make me wait 6 hours while the machine beeps the entire time.  My mother insisted on coming up and entertaining me. She said it was
obvious I wasn’t dying since no one was coming to check. 

Next thing I know,  some young student comes in to say he’s putting an IV in and says I’m being admitted.  I’m like,  “Whoa,  hold on there.  I haven’t even talked to a doctor. I need to speak to someone.” I’m completely freaked out because I know that I have a pulled muscle in my rib cage and don’t need to be admitted. 

Before I know it,  the nurse comes in with a shot of muscle relaxer, takes off all the equipment and tells me to get dressed because I’m going home.  I still hadn’t spoken to a doctor. 

The doctor finally comes in and says everything is normal.  She wants me to rest a day.  She tries  to give me pain medication but it’s limited due to the gastric bypass.  I opt for Tylenol and Flexoril and go home. 

I’m just really pissed because this was all so unnecessary.  The worse part is that I’m the safety technician at work where we have over 4000 days without a reportable injury.  Because I went to the doctor and received treatment,  it’s considered a reportable accident and if I report it there will be a big investigation which I’ll have to conduct.  I did tell my boss I fell after it happened but I don’t want to be the one to wreck the record.  I’m such an honest person that this is killing me.  I have a call in to my boss to see how he wants me to proceed.  I feel like this was my fault.  I’m not a litigious person so I’m not going to sue the company.  I just want this all to go away.  I don’t want to lose my job.

None of this has anything to do with staying sober other than in the old days,  nothing would’ve felt better than drowning my pain and sorrow. But I won’t because in two weeks,  I’ll have two years sober. 

Drain Bamage

At nearly two years sober, my brain has decided to take a vacation. I’ve been having trouble stringing a complete sentence together these last few days.  I’m chalking it up to peri menopause.  I’m nearly 47 and assume that it won’t be long before I begin that journey.

I felt like I had my life more together when I was drinking.  I suppose that’s because I had to work at making my life look organized.

My divorce has been final now for 6 years.  I spent most of the 20 years I was married staying home with my daughters.  I worked cleaning houses and did other odd jobs when my then husband had mornings or days off. My girls never went to daycare and I pride myself on how well rounded and intelligent they are.  Their teachers always remarked about their manners and educational abilities being well above their age groups.  I’ve nothing against daycare and realize it’s something almost all families have to do in order to make a living.  I consider our family blessed because of the time we spent together.

Because I chose to raise our daughters,  I never finished my education.  I’ve worked in our family business as a graphic designer for the last  14 years.  I truly enjoy my work there.  After the divorce,  I had to take on a second job. I fell into a part time position with one of the largest agricultural companies in the world as a safety technician  (having no prior experience) for a research site. I’ve been there almost 6 years and feel I am doing a pretty great job. My supervisor tells people he wishes he had 10 of me. He can’t however,  give me a full time job because I don’t have a degree.

I’ve spent the last 6 years inserting myself into learning jobs other than my own in an attempt to make myself irreplaceable.  If it comes my way,  I’m going to learn it.  Everything from weekly office cleaning,  yard care,  becoming certified to train people for forklift operation, handling all of the occupational health pograms, hand labor in the fields and labs and also anything my job description requires. All this while also running the family business,  sometimes from a corn field. I have no idea how I managed all of this while suffering debilitating hangovers.

The last three weeks have been tough on me physically. I’ve been working 50+ hours with only one day off a week.   I’ve been working at hand harvesting crops for research which entails back breaking work and walking around  6.5 miles in a day.  We have now moved on to machine harvest where we must take field notes before the crops are taken off. During this time,  my foot decided to have plantar facitis.  I could barely walk for a few days but I’m learning how to treat it.

It’s possible that all this physical labor is causing my brain to short circuit.

Two years ago when I was still drinking at my worst, I would do this back breaking labor knowing that I was going to stop on the way home and buy enough booze to make me pass out cold.  Then get up and repeat. It was what I thought kept me going.  I realize now that I was slowly killing myself.

Thankfully,  my family job is flexible at the times I need it to be for the other job. I’ll have to write more some time about that job.

This post is all over the place. I suppose I better get to sleep so I can wake up and start all over again.  Tomorrow my first thoughts will be of thankfulness for being sober.


702 days sober to be exact.  I will celebrate 2 years of no hangover mornings in less than a month. I never would’ve guessed that I’d still be sober today  when I had my last drink. Something clicked in my mind and I’ve resolved myself to continue on this truly great path.