Didn't want to be your ghost

[sovay]

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. (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.

Comments

[nineweaving.livejournal.com]

Late but just.

Chilbains! You poor thing. You need a footmuff and a pathetic woolly shawl, like a Darwin.

It's my mother's yahrzeit as well, by the Gregorian calendar. *hugs*.

"Our driveway shrub," bowed and dripping, should have been a Dickens waif.

Yowch! Sorry about the tooth.

Hope to see you and the sun.

Nine

[martianmooncrab.livejournal.com]

My diagnosis of Raynaud's is official.

I have had it for years, I have several dozen fingerless gloves that I wear when I start getting the cold hands and numb fingers. Mostly its covering the wrists where the blood vessels are closest to the surface. I recently found out that the issues with my fingernails being brittle and splitting is connected to it, along with the longitudal lines down the nails.. which makes sense when taking into consideration of the temp fluctuations in the fingers.

A few adaptations will cover most of the problems, unless the only way to get relief is the drugs. My biggest problem is the cold part of it, but with the numbness, I have no sense of hurting myself (or burning!) until its too late.

[davesmusictank.livejournal.com]

I have a cousin that suffers from Raynard's and he says it is not just that his fingers are cold but also the numbness makes him unable to do anything much such as holding even a cup of tea as he has been burned when suffering it.

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

I have to remember to print out your eggnog recipe, which has become something of a tradition with us, and take it with me to my dad's.

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.

(This is not a criticism of other comments, which, in any case, I notice are sharing their own experiences but not recommending treatment approaches--more offering empathy, which is better.)

[debka-notion.livejournal.com]

There's a good amount of Reynaud's, or similar, in my family. I highly second the serious fucking socks. (It does mean that I generally know what sort of gifts will please certain family members- i.e. wool socks.)

[aphrabehn.livejournal.com]

I second the recommendation for fingerless gloves. I keep a pair in my car and in my office, as week as at home. I also buy smallish men's size will sucks to sleep in and its made a huge difference. I also find remembering to massage my hands and feet before bed (sometimes with a nice fragrant oil like lavender) behind get the blood flowing before sleeping. It's a lousy thing to deal with. I'm sorry you have it, too.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

2. For your serious fucking sock needs, may I recommend the Socklady? Okay, we're in California, my needs are not fucking serious, but still: these are good socks. And it's not true that they don't match - I have three pairs, and would never mix them up - but they are not at all identical, just concordant. I enjoy this.

[gwynnega]

I find diagnoses of health problems are generally helpful, even if only to point to ways to manage the problem, rather than ways to cure it. Sounds like some serious fucking socks will be a good investment!

Happy holidays!

[seajules]

Huh. Your description makes me wonder if Raynaud's isn't one of my issues. It would certainly explain some things, and underscore my recent conviction to go back to wearing fingerless gloves on a regular basis. Which means I should knit myself some pairs, since the reason I stopped wearing them on a regular basis was because I wore through several pairs.

Speaking of, I still need to mail you the pair I knit for you. I better make a note so I do that when I meet up with my belongings once again.

[ladymondegreen.livejournal.com]

May I commend you to these serious fucking socks? I have 8 pairs, and I adore them. They do not itch, but are fantastically warm.