in which I try not to die
/
For those of you following me on Facebook, the title doesn't refer to my tuberculosis exposure. Nope.
Sure, my positive TB skin test paired with the three days we spent last summer with our sick baby girl in a hospital in Taitung, Taiwan, means I was exposed to the bacteria... but thankfully my chest x-ray was all clear, so I'm waiting for my appointment with the health department, which will launch several months of preventative antibiotics and public health monitoring.
Hi, my name is Shannon, and I'm a walking petri dish.
So why the concern that I might die?
Today, my friends, marks Day 1 back in the gym.
We tried having an elliptical in our bedroom. It's still there. Lee loves it, as it works the entire body throughvoodoo clever design. Me? It messes with my knees.
Plus? When I work out at the house, it feels like a chore. As I juggle the kids, the laundry, and whatever else I'm setting aside for the elliptical or a exercise video, the workout ends up feeling anything but refreshing. Knowing the benefit for my physical and mental well-being, though, it's not an option to opt out of exercise, though.
So I rejoined the gym.
It's the same one we used to go to, with the perk of being down the road from Jocelyn's elementary school. We cancelled because we didn't have time to go in the midst of the move, and then we knew Zoe wouldn't be ready for childcare yet for a while after we brought her home. (Plus our new house payment is higher than the old one, so I needed to have the time to devote to my freelance writing gigs which fund my membership, as well as our adoption fund.)
I'm praying that the childcare staff is the same, because they were fantastic.
Though Zoe will be peeved about being left, no matter how wonderful the staff is.
Even if my lungs try to give up on me today, though, the good news is it's just from being in poor shape and not from tuberculosis, right?
The other good news? We'll be returning home from the gym in time for therapy for Zoe... which means someone will realize soon if I don't make it home because I'm passed out on the floor of the locker room.
Where, ironically, I might pick up some bacterial infection.
{Probably not TB, though.}
Sure, my positive TB skin test paired with the three days we spent last summer with our sick baby girl in a hospital in Taitung, Taiwan, means I was exposed to the bacteria... but thankfully my chest x-ray was all clear, so I'm waiting for my appointment with the health department, which will launch several months of preventative antibiotics and public health monitoring.
Hi, my name is Shannon, and I'm a walking petri dish.
 |
| See the joy on our faces as we sprung Zoe from the hospital? Who knew that I was also busting out a few TB germs? {photo credit: The Archibald Project} |
So why the concern that I might die?
Today, my friends, marks Day 1 back in the gym.
We tried having an elliptical in our bedroom. It's still there. Lee loves it, as it works the entire body through
Plus? When I work out at the house, it feels like a chore. As I juggle the kids, the laundry, and whatever else I'm setting aside for the elliptical or a exercise video, the workout ends up feeling anything but refreshing. Knowing the benefit for my physical and mental well-being, though, it's not an option to opt out of exercise, though.
So I rejoined the gym.
It's the same one we used to go to, with the perk of being down the road from Jocelyn's elementary school. We cancelled because we didn't have time to go in the midst of the move, and then we knew Zoe wouldn't be ready for childcare yet for a while after we brought her home. (Plus our new house payment is higher than the old one, so I needed to have the time to devote to my freelance writing gigs which fund my membership, as well as our adoption fund.)
I'm praying that the childcare staff is the same, because they were fantastic.
Though Zoe will be peeved about being left, no matter how wonderful the staff is.
Even if my lungs try to give up on me today, though, the good news is it's just from being in poor shape and not from tuberculosis, right?
The other good news? We'll be returning home from the gym in time for therapy for Zoe... which means someone will realize soon if I don't make it home because I'm passed out on the floor of the locker room.
Where, ironically, I might pick up some bacterial infection.
{Probably not TB, though.}