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Didn't want to be your ghost
1. Alan Turing has been pardoned. Better if it had been in his lifetime, but still.
2. My diagnosis of Raynaud's is official. I didn't go looking for it; the dermatologist this morning informed me that the problem with my feet is chilblains, asked me a question about my colitis and a question about the color of my hands in winter, felt their temperature after five minutes' walk through cold rain, and that was that. There's not much to do about it medically, as I'd thought; I'm not going to start taking vasodilators in winter. (I am going to invest in serious fucking socks.) Now I get to deal with a problem with my feet that I thought had gone out with central heating.
3. It is my grandfather's yahrzeit. Not by the Hebrew calendar, which would have been December 1st this year; but he died on the morning of the 24th in 2011, so my mother and I lit the candle this evening. I was in Lexington, decorating my family's tree for Wednesday. (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel and I do not have a tree of our own this year, partly because our house is still full of boxes, partly because it turns out that our driveway shrub disappears under a snowfall. It's become visible with the rain in the last couple of days, but I am still sad that we didn't at least run some rope lights around it. It would have been unequaled in pathos since A Charlie Brown Christmas.) It's a completely different tree from last year, but they always are. The star of David of heavy amber pressed glass—my grandparents' gift, my first ornament—still goes on the tree first.
I have yet another chip in my left front tooth. I spent most of today running around in the rain with Rob, buying candied fruit peel for my mother and books for a variety of people. I've had very little time to myself in some ways recently (and now we're heading into more holidays), but it was a good solstice this weekend; the sun came back. I didn't go away.
2. My diagnosis of Raynaud's is official. I didn't go looking for it; the dermatologist this morning informed me that the problem with my feet is chilblains, asked me a question about my colitis and a question about the color of my hands in winter, felt their temperature after five minutes' walk through cold rain, and that was that. There's not much to do about it medically, as I'd thought; I'm not going to start taking vasodilators in winter. (I am going to invest in serious fucking socks.) Now I get to deal with a problem with my feet that I thought had gone out with central heating.
3. It is my grandfather's yahrzeit. Not by the Hebrew calendar, which would have been December 1st this year; but he died on the morning of the 24th in 2011, so my mother and I lit the candle this evening. I was in Lexington, decorating my family's tree for Wednesday. (
derspatchel and I do not have a tree of our own this year, partly because our house is still full of boxes, partly because it turns out that our driveway shrub disappears under a snowfall. It's become visible with the rain in the last couple of days, but I am still sad that we didn't at least run some rope lights around it. It would have been unequaled in pathos since A Charlie Brown Christmas.) It's a completely different tree from last year, but they always are. The star of David of heavy amber pressed glass—my grandparents' gift, my first ornament—still goes on the tree first.I have yet another chip in my left front tooth. I spent most of today running around in the rain with Rob, buying candied fruit peel for my mother and books for a variety of people. I've had very little time to myself in some ways recently (and now we're heading into more holidays), but it was a good solstice this weekend; the sun came back. I didn't go away.
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I am so glad that's become a thing in your family! I like passing traditions on. It's what they're for.
My mother had Reynauds--she--WAIT. I am not going to do that thing of, "Oh, you have [thing]? Someone I know has [thing]; here, let me share a probably irrelevant piece of self care." No seriously. I have a feeling it wouldn't help.
I appreciate it very much. Especially since in this case it wasn't a diagnosis so much as a confirmation: it means I have to treat the problem more seriously than if my hands just went stiff in cold weather like everyone else's, but I had suspected it for years and tried to handle myself accordingly. (See: wearing gloves in weather when the rest of me can walk around in a T-shirt and corduroy jacket. I used to have a thinner pair for the fall and spring and a heavier one for winter, but both of them perished in the last year. As of last week, I have a sort of middling pair I've been wearing everywhere.) Not all self-care is irrelevant, and you have never been insulting with advice on LJ before, but it's not like I am facing a sudden life-altering issue of which I was entirely unaware.