Thursday, April 25, 2013

Tooth problems and being broke

A few days ago I turned thirty five. I joked about going into a midlife crisis, about acting out, getting that sports convertible and drive around with the wind blowing in my non-existent luscious long hair. All to compensate for getting older and having had a less than fulfilling life. And maybe there is some truth to that. I don't really feel like I did much these past thirty five years, I could have done so much better if I just applied myself more. I certainly wouldn't be broke if I had made some different choices these last five years, like I missed a few promotion opportunities and passed a lucrative job offer out of a sense of loyalty to my employer.

My earnings as writer are meager and doesn't cover my extra daily cost, it barely covers my editing and publishing costs. With my day job lagging career-wise and money-wise, subtracting inflation, I am making less than I did five years ago. With insurance rising in costs and yearly being downgrading in covarage, I don't have a adental plan anymore, and I couldn't afford additional coverage. And even with extra insurance the covarage sucks, you end paying around 50-80% yourself.

Three years ago I scrapped any remaining dental plans and put the money I saved aside. Initially I got a sizable amount saved, but with each yearly downfall (something broke, wife got ill) I had to take money away to cover other expenses and now that I got zero left, a tooth broke.

With no insurance, being broke, I can't have the care I need. And you know what makes it worse is the realization that even if I had the insurance I wouldn't really be able to afford the care I need. Sometimes my life sucks, really sucks. The only good thing right now is that the broken tooth doesn't hurt, however I'm not sure for how long that will last.

In June I hope to publish two novels and I will pray to existence itself to please let those get me enough for me to be able to cover the cost I need to make to fix my damn tooth. My writing is the only thing I can do right now to earn me some extra cash in the short time. For this year I won't be having a raise, I can't expect more money from my day job. It doesn't help that the economic climate is not very favorable right now and especially not when your health starts failing.


Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Time to heal

I don't often get ill, and the times I do I would usually not stop my regular schedule. I would go through the day like I wasn't ill. Pop a few pills against the headache, and ignore all other discomforts, and just go on. It doesn't help that I don't get a fever. A fever would stop someone who is ill and make them rest. I don't get that, so I go about my life as nothing is wrong while I should instead rest.

When I was 19, I had pneumonia without knowing it. No fever at all. I walked around with it for two months, coughing as I went. After the two months my lungs hurt so bad and breathing was so difficult that I had no other choice than to stay in bed. My girlfriend at that time, called the doctor. He didn't want to make a house-call, because I didn't have a fever, so in his opinion it couldn't be that bad. After his visit, he felt I was being over dramatic, that it wasn't that bad, I didn't have a fever. Though to put my mind at rest he told me to go for a checkup at the hospital.

My girfriend called a cab (at that time I could almost not speak anymore) and we went to the hospital. They gave me only one look, saw my pale face, and my continuous coughing, and they called for a gurney. Thy took me away, took some blood, put me on an IV, took some x-rays, and immediately after put me on antibiotic and gave me something against my pain (it was good.)

I had sever pneumonia and to make matters worse I also had some killing virus in my blood. They were amazed I recovered, they actually thought I would die, also it baffled them that I did not get a fever. I stayed for 3 weeks and not a single day I had a fever.

At times I still remember the hallucinations I had while on the meds and the weird dreams. Very surreal and vivid dreams. It were strange times. I was actually dying the days before I got to the hospital, and had I kept going on for a few more weeks without help I would have died. I learned something about myself and that is I didn't fear death.(still don't) At that time I only felt pity that if I would die I would never get to have sex with my girlfriend. Actually never did, soon after my recovery we broke up.

Now that I'm older and wiser I got more careful about getting ill. The way I lived my life so far, by keep working despite being ill would eventually take its toll. Realizing this I changed. Last week I was ill but I didn't take a day off to rest. So this Monday, while feeling like shit, ready to go work, I paused at the door and at that moment I decided to call in sick. I may not fear death but that doesn't mean I should help it, I love life, and like living, so if I should help one of them, it should be life. I won't be making the same mistake I did at nineteen, for at mid thirties I probably wouldn't survive the same thing. Not that death in itself is bad, though I rather enjoy life a little longer.

I'm three days into my sick leave and feeling a little better. Tomorrow I'll be back at work. Didn't write much either these last days. Sick leave, is sick leave, so no working, only resting.

What I wanted to say is; take care of yourselves, don't push yourself to death. It's better to lag a little behind and enjoy life a little longer, than to be overburdened and never get the chance to enjoy life.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Writing, life, and time

I can't believe this will be my first post in 2013, four months too late. I've been so busy writing and with my day job that I had little time for anything else, including family. It's strange how life can suddenly change for someone and make everything go so fast that you won't realize it has changed. It can be a small thing that sets this in motion. I think for me it was a change in my job situation. I got an assignment somewhere else, and am consumed with work for about twelve hours a day. Working and traveling to work and in doing so walking about 3-4 miles daily.

Besides all that, I've been writing. In February I finished the first draft of Dead Shelter, the sequel to Dead Quarantine. And am now at my third draft. I have till the third week of May to revise it, after that I have to send it to my editor. I already made the book cover, so I hope to publish it soon after it comes back edited.

Cover I made for Dead Shelter:

I'm also rewriting a story I wrote five years ago. I'm about a third done and hope to have it finished this month. I really should work harder and spend more time writing, but with my day job taking so much time and energy it became harder for me to combine my time and energy to do other stuff.

How time consumes life. Or is it the other way around and is it life that consumes time? I can remember yesterday to be December 31th and now we are in April. I'm almost thirty five now, nearing the age I should buy a sports car and get a tall young twenty some blond as my new wife. I won't do that offcourse, I love my current wife too much to replace her, though a sport scar would be nice. Then again those cost way too much for me to be able to buy with my pay-scale.

How I wish I could stop time so I could do much more with the time I still have. Though the more you do, the quicker it goes by, and before you know it you are out of time and at the end of your life. One should always be watchful that we at least enjoy some of the time we have. Work is nice, but life only working, can be a waste of life. For do we live to work or work to live? Though for now my life is all about work and little play and may stay so till the end of this year.