Cascade of Events

A cascade of unfortunate events, that's how I would describe the last month and a half. It started with the Italian Man - after 3 relatively terrific months (and fantastic sex) - flaking out and me breaking things off with him. Great sex and getting wined and dined and driven all over New York were fun, but, in the end, they were not worth me sacrificing my self-respect (obviously), so I had to give him the figurative boot.

Even though it was ultimately my decision to end it, it was still a little disappointing because - up until the point where he showed a side of himself that I had not seen before - I had really started to like him. I guess that's why we date though, to come to know people over time, and to learn more about what we want and need out of a partner, and what we want out of ourselves.

While that situation was playing itself out, I came down with MRSA, a staff infection resistant to normal antibiotics that is apparently raging through the gyms and public transportation systems of New York right at this very moment. (Watch out!). After a series of doctors, I finally found an infectious disease doctor who diagnosed me correctly and prescribed me with super sulphur-based antibiotics to combat the MRSA. Things seemed to be looking up. It turns out, however, that I'm allergic to sulphur-based antibiotics, and as a result, I had a rather extreme allergic reaction to the antibiotics which lasted for almost a week (because I had no idea I was feeling so gravely ill from the antibiotics - I thought it was the MRSA). By day 5 on the pills, I was so sick -- from days of fever, chills, a constant headache, no appetite, and physical exhaustion -- that I felt too weak to roll over in my bed to have a drink of water.

Thankfully, I had done some research on the web on allergic reactions to sulphur and by day 5 got suspicious enough so that I stopped taking the medicine. Within 24 18 hours of taking the last pill, I -- almost immediately -- started feeling remarkably better. It was kind of amazing how quickly I started to improve once the medicine started to clear out of my system. My infectious disease doctor, when I finally was able to reach him, confirmed that I was having an allergic reaction, applauded me for stopping the medicine, and prescribed new non-sulphur-based antibiotics.

I got better just in time to work like a dog (where does that expression come from? poor dogs) for a few days before leaving for a brief trip to Mexico, which was supposed to be a relaxing, rejuvenating mind-body-spirit vacation. The vacation itself did not live up to my expectations, but I think the real problem was that I had a number of huge deadlines scheduled for the week immediately following my vacation. Thus, I wasn't really able to decompress fully while in Mexico. I found myself walking down the beach, after just checking my blackberry, trying hard not to think about work, but unable to clear my mind. I learned some valuable lessons, of course, such as the importance of not scheduling anything, if you can help it, for the week after your vacation. It almost totally defeats the purpose getting away, when you're unable to mentally get away because of what's looming on the horizon.

Since coming back from Mexico on the 4th, I've been working non-stop, around the clock. Although I had expected things to be busy, I had no idea just how intense work was going to be. Twelve days without a break is not fun, let me tell you. Walking through the office at midnight the other night, glancing out the window at the twinkling buildings, I was suddenly brought back to a year ago, at my old firm, when late nights were the norm. It was not a pleasant memory, and I most certainly do not want late nights to become a norm once again. It's also hard feeling so disconnected; from friends, from myself. When I go through those phases, where it's work and work alone 24/7, all of the other things that make up my life - the things that matter in my life - fade away into the background and lose them, temporarily. I lose touch with my life.

As you can tell by this post, now I have a bit of a break. I finished a huge project yesterday afternoon and went to therapy for the first time in weeks. I caught up with a few friends and family members over the phone, and am now catching up through writing this. I'm going to Swedish class tonight for the first time in weeks, and aim to go to they gym tomorrow night - again, for the first time in weeks (more like months). I'm crawling out of the cocoon, as it were, bit by bit. Cocoon is really not an accurate metaphor. Swirling sandstorm of chaos filled with asteroids and other dangerous objects would be a better one. Deep, dark pit also comes to mind.

In any event, where ever it is that I've been, I've started climbing out of it. Yay! Here's to hoping the end of the week brings more sleep, friends, connections, and better health (for me, and all of you). Cheers.