allergic reactions: synthroid in the city

no pictures today.

not sure what we’d show you, to be honest.

it’s even hard to type (swollen hands).

does the synthroid make our blood sweet?

because we seemed to have attracted a mosquito, lost in manhattan, perhaps flown in for the Halloween Parade, which clearly expressed its desire for us, if you know what we mean.

and so on top of the lethargy and crankiness due to bits of our body looking for the bits that used to be there and are clearly freaked out as shown by our blood results – we are now heavily covered in calamine lotion (ah! Bad Memories of having shingles – yes shingles – when we were 9 or 10 years old) and swollen allergic reactions……… LIFE.


Now that’s out (and hopefully someone can identify and laugh “oh yes, that’s the 7 and a half weeks post surgery stage!”) we’re going Back to Bed.

or maybe the sofa.

there’s a lovely autumnal light on the trees outside.

8 thoughts on “allergic reactions: synthroid in the city

  1. Calamine! How divine. Some would call it a happy accident.

    Hold on…if I am not mistaken, Calamine has a very white (with a slight blush of pink), powder-y, exquisitely pale quality.

    You have it, so Use, Use, Use! Your aristocratic pallor (exquisite on you, and in trith, some say you already have far more than your fair share) will only be enhanced.

    Dust your cheeks with a bit of rouge and you will be breathtakingly Fragonard (or possibly Grand Kabuki if you are too enthusiastic). Feeling more Jazz Age? Yes, I knew You and Gloria might be. A very, very delicate cupid’s bow mouth could take you more towards Daisy Buchanan (or, Clara Bow, depending on mood and ultimate choice of lip color / colour.

    While not exactly the same scenario as yours, look at “DV” pp 36 to pp 37. She makes several references to Calcimine and the astoundingly liberal use of it prior to her coming out party in 1923. Quite fabulous, and I find myself asking…: “Why doesn’t anybody do stuff like this anymore?”

    So when you are “making up”, pretend today’s Calamine is in fact…DV’S 1923 Calcimine.

    Just remember one of DV’s greatest pieces of advice…”Fake it!”

    My love to you, brave one.


    1. oh, gosh.

      Perhaps if we had read all the DELICIOUS comments from you beautiful people today, we might have felt a bit more sparkly.

      Or maybe not. This bloody Synthroid SUCKS.

      It’s like possession.

      (and not in a good visited-by-the-muses sorta way, darlings ;)

  2. So hard to believe that it’s only been 71/2 weeks …. they have been so full of change and boredom and healing and pain and you’ve captured so many magnificent pictures with the camera and your gloriaesque way with words. Curled up on the sofa, allowing the blessing of autumnal light …. maybe a little music(?) sounds like just what a confused body might need to adjust to yet another damn thing, less than 2 months after a major invasion, replete with all the horrors that entailed.

  3. I won’t be so negative as George! I think you have to love your body or at least accept it and listen to it: if it says it hurts, then it hurts no matter you want to go outside and change the world.
    If you do something good, ad nice, to your body, your “divine eternal soul” will also enjoy it!
    Chère Gloria, take it easy as much as you can, relax, rest on your sofa, relax looking at the autumnal light (George I’ll send you some pix of our last walk: it was a dream…) and breath deeply… That was the message from your French doctor ;-))

  4. How I miss the autumn and autumnal light.
    Everything changes, and I suppose we and our bodies are always reacting to that change. I know mine still looks for the nicotine and a few other heady doses of things I used to supply it with once upon a time, before all of that changed. Now my body and I are reacting to getting old(er) and we’re not reacting the same way to that change either. It’s not the same as what you’re going through, I know that, but we are all in some kind of relationship with our bodies, aren’t we? Maybe the most difficult relationship we ever have because we can’t just end it or walk away from it. It being, as my friend David calls it, “the shit factory that houses the divine eternal soul.”

do say something - do :-)

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