Heatstroke

Wowzer, the hundredth article of this blog is about me nearly getting heatstroke (in fact, maybe I do have it, but I'm trying my best to lower my temperature, though I'm writing this with a headache and slight nausea that I sincerely hope will NOT escalate). 

Today is the "day of the departing". In all, it's a special day where there were supposed to be physical activities and games, as well as a BBQ, and such to spend a moment with those who are getting transferred, whether internally or externally. 

There was the flag hoisting ceremony this morning, but I sure as fuck wasn't going to come earlier to see it (7:58 am, are you kidding?). No, I love seeing such ceremonies, but not to the point I'd wake up earlier just to attend it. Dionysus didn't, either. He didn't want to just bake in the sun for thirty minutes.

But then I learned that the lunch at the mess hall, which had been booked for us army people (as we got some navy people in the quarters I live in), not only would have us eat at 1pm, but also be compulsory. I actually knew that today would have us eat late as the kitchens were preparing the BBQ meat instead of having us do it because of the scorching heat, but I didn't think I would actually be obligated to attend.

Passiflora said that while she didn't want to, you more or less had, to, to show respect to those who prepared all that food... but what, am I already not showing respect to them by eating their salads in the first place? Why would I need...? oh fuck. I'm just... I'm mad, you know.

***

I did NOT want to attend. I'm tired, sick of the fucking week, sick of everything, I'm a dull girl from all those hot nights even if I did sleep better the past couple of nights due to putting the foil on my windows, I have NO bandwidth for groups, and especially not for the stress of having to eat in public.

And for fuck's sake. Not only don't I know half of those who are departing, almost no one I know is getting transferred, and those who are, like Esme (external), Gill, Bootes, Chin (internal)... I don't need a goddamn social celebration to tell them I'm pissed about seeing them go. And I hate being obligated to eat in public. The June 1 thing was okay for me because I was eating outside and could go from group to group if I chose. Here? It was more or less implied I had to stay with my own, and it was at the. Fucking. Mess hall. 

Now it wouldn't have been an issue if it was there in normal times.

Except the AC is broken. So are the freezers which used to dispense frozen Mars, Snickers and Bounty bars. 

Who thought it would be such a wonderful idea to put all of us inside this oven and have us stay here for an hour and a half and on top of that, EAT BBQ? Which, for the record, is HOT? Put HOT food inside of an already HOT body during a HEATWAVE? In an OVERHEATED place?

*** 

At first, it was ambiguous to me whether it was truly an obligation or not. I didn't know whether it was truly compulsory or not. Capella wasn't going to be able to make it, as she had to be with her daughter because her school is still closed on afternoons due to the heatwave. I asked her about it.

I don't know, really, she said. I'll try and ask Hera about it.

She went, but Hera, Leo and Janus were at a meeting. She allowed me to go to my room at the time I usually do. Good Capella. Kind-hearted as always, and actually has some common sense. I thought, if for some reason I were to get scolded by the hierarchy, at least she was on my side.

I had my own lunch there. The remaining vegan sausages I had with some carrots, as opposed to BBQ stuff. I would've gladly waited to eat meat if it hadn't been 40 fucking degrees outside, but I couldn't think the whole ordeal was even a good idea.

Well apparently, that's not what the army thinks. 

***

Shortly before half past midday, Capella texts me to tell me it is indeed compulsory and that the colonel (not saying if it was Janus or Leo) would give a speech at three quarters past.

Oh, well. There we go.

I took an antiemetic. I just didn't want to feel nauseous from stress and exhaustion. Then I went.

We gathered in the common room. The other jerk, to whom I will give the name of Leonard (because apparently there is a demon out there named Leonard, I'm not even kidding), kept trying to be next to me. He once got close to say hello and touched my arm to get my attention. I was not feeling comfortable, so I moved to a chair closer to Esme. What did he do? He sat on the couch right next to said chair.

In the end I went to sit with Passiflora. At my left there was her. At my right, a microwave. Hera came later and I explained to her what was going on, but I didn't have time: Leo was giving his speech.

***

I'll add a nugget of good news: I'm very proud of Vega. Why? Because she's now a major. I will call her Major when I visit her office next. And perhaps be a bit teasing about it. 

Oh, Major Vega. Congratulations my dear Major Vega. Shine bright in the strings of the Lyra you are part of. And for sure, do continue to be a great colleague to us and to Sagitta next to you!

***

Then, it was time to go. I wasn't the only one to have already eaten: another colleague I haven't named yet, but I'm unsure about, a 50 something woman who I found gorgeous at first but then made me a little uneasy with how she judges makeup, also had lunch first. 

I had a conversation with Leo the whole time. He told me all the platitudes about how well, sometimes disappointments happen, but they're part of the journey, failure is the start of something new, yada yada. I let him speak, every now and then telling him that I'm afraid of disappointing people, and that I hoped that my work was still satisfactory. I have not disappointed him. In fact, he's very happy with me, with the fact I was the one to catch up the entire service's backlogs especially with such ease. 

Of course, I cracked a few morbid jokes with him, I don't remember about what, but I make him laugh even with that. I guess that if you can make your colonel laugh at your dark jokes, then it's a good sign you're in good hands. Even as said colonel seems to be a little out of touch with people around him. 

Bah. Nevermind. He's just being Leo.

I could say hello to Cassiopeia and Cygnus. Briefly, but still. During the time I was walking with Leo, I also came across Cetus, Libra, Virgo, Megara and Gill, but I couldn't talk to them as I was busy already. 

***

I didn't take any food. People were surprised. I just reminded them I had already eaten.

The bulk of our service was at a big table, but we were among the last, so we got on a different one. I sat next to Hera, and there began the torture of having to remain in an overheated mess hall. I couldn't imagine lasting an hour and a half: fifteen minutes in, I was sweating so much from my thighs that my seat was wet. And I mean, wet to a point I rarely see. 

I drank water, and a bit of beer, but the latter just didn't feel appealing. I thought I could at least get a little drunk to forget all of that. 

***

At my father's, I would have two glasses of rosé one after the other, drunk typically fast, so the 12 percent alcohol would hammer the fuck out of my brain and have me lobotomized enough that I would feel absolutely nothing and last a whole ass evening with unwanted guests without seeming rude, and in addition speak a little more, sometimes a bit bluntly, but it would just appear that I'm naturally blunt. Which I am. 

But for the next weeks, my liver would have worked so hard in one evening that I would not touch a single glass of alcohol. I would just not want any at all. Might be what prevents me from already being a drunk: I can feel it when my liver is working overtime, and it does not feel good. 

***

But it was still unbearable. A colleague opened the doors to have some air in, but all it did was bring more hot air, though every now and then a slight breeze added to a draught would help cool down a little. I was agitating my fan aggressively, all the time. 

Fun fact: Blue has a blue fan. I thought it was a cool little detail.

I drank water, finished my 50cl. Filled it again at the fountain. Did not feel well and was not quite feeling better as time went on.

The lunch was supposed to last til 2:30pm, but people aren't masochistic; they would leave as they were finished. Duh.

But for some reason, my service was staying.

Cetus, Libra, Virgo, Gill and Megara were outside not far away: I went to say hello to them, trying to stave off the rising stress and the heat exhaustion that was overtaking me. Then I came back to my table. 

I drank some water again... and suddenly, it felt like I was about to have a heave, or at least I wasn't far, and I was trembling. My hands were starting to shake. 

Panic. Fuck. If I stay any longer I'm gonna vomit. Oh fuck.

I tried to calm down, but then got up as I felt the nausea rise a little more. Hera asked me where I was going: I told her I was going to refresh some in the bathroom. Multiple times I had let out that I wasn't comfortable during the meal. 

For some reason the others seemed to deal with it better than I did. Some did not even drink, at all. In fact, a colleague commented on it and joked that they were camels. How though? You're in a fucking army uniform and you're not even drinking? Please.

I poured water in my hands and wet my arms, my stomach, my neck, my face. It felt a little better, but still, not exactly strong enough to cool me down well. Touched my forehead: it was warmer than usual, but my cheeks were fine. 

Huh. 

I didn't know whether my body temperature was climbing, or how high it was getting, but I was not feeling like coming back. In fact, the mere thought of spending an extra half an hour inside of this oven was making me feel sick and panicky. I considered that perhaps I was just having a panic attack, but... I was not willing to gamble on it.

I told Hera that I was on the verge of heatstroke. She allowed me to go. I thanked her and fled the mess hall, calmly, but in my mind, I was just running away. 

***

Back to my room, one of the first things I did was take my temperature.

37.4 degrees. 

I don't know where the threshold is, but my normal temperature hovers around 36.8, I reckon. I don't even know what it's like to have a fever as I haven't had one in many years, but... perhaps I was indeed this close to actually getting heatstroke. Plus I haven't ovulated yet and expect it to be delayed because of all that heat stress, so it's doubly high for me.

I was not well. Put the fan on. Sprayed myself with water. Breathed. Texted my mom about it. Then filled a basin with water, put one of my frozen bottles (half-frozen actually due to how my freezer is... but still better than nothing) in, and then soaked my feet. As I'm typing this at the moment I'm starting to feel much better, but I was starting to have a headache and the nausea hadn't left me. I definitely am resting this afternoon...

Now all I want is a freezy pop, but gotta wait for them to freeze. 

But still. Hera let me go. I can't imagine what could've happened if she had chosen to play the "it would be rude to go" card just like when I was at that conference at the amphitheatre during my period in May and it felt like my pelvic floor was about to fail and have me pee myself on my seat.

 Okay, maybe it's a bit of a harsh way to put it. At the time I had asked her if it would be rude to go before the end as I was fighting to hold it in, and she said that it would be, and that since it wasn't long before it would be over, I should wait. 

But yeah, had she said the same today, I can't imagine what would've happened. Panic attack, fainting, throwing up in the middle of the mess hall... not far from the ones I love. 

I'm glad Hopoe wasn't here. I think this would've made it even more unbearable. I would've definitely fainted from the heat and the stress, and who knows if she wouldn't have, herself, given that she is fragile as well.

Oh Lord, imagine both of us fainting and having to be given first aid. This is so darkly funny to think about, even if I guess that if I did see her not feeling well, my first question would be "is first sergeant Hopoe okay?" upon waking. Not without cursing out whoever thought it was a good idea to even host this event at all, in a mess hall with broken AC.

***

I'm going to close this entry with something I discovered this morning, but that would've broken the flow of the entry.

I think my father might be... well. Doing something I know he's really good at doing. To my stepmom.

Mainly: cheating on her.

***

Exploring folders this morning during a lull, I stumbled across pictures of a St. Patrick cocktail last March. I was already gone when this happened.

I totally expected to see him on those pictures, I mean, not only is he a prominent figure, but he also loves such events. He's an extrovert, after all.

What I didn't expect is to see a picture of him with a female colleague, and her kissing him hard on the cheek while holding his face, a leg up, and him looking like he's about to embrace her.

I did not see my stepmom in the background of any of the pictures. He has taken her to such events in the past, but apparently not this time. And there are other pictures where he posed with other women and none of them did that. It was fairly neutral. 

I know this lady, in addition. I liked the little I saw of her, she came to see him for a work-related thing I reckon, on the day we were supposed to go get my car at the garage, back last October. She's a blonde, but had dyed black hair on the picture. I don't know if she's married, but she seems sweet. I think she's a commander or lieutenant-colonel? I do remember her first name, but have no idea in which service she is. I just know that they still do work together.

***

Of course this could look like, I guess, strong friendship between colleagues during a tipsy moment, a fun event. That can be the case, especially with the goofy glasses he was wearing. Maybe I'm just... crazy. Or I'm overthinking it.

But I know my father. I know his past. I know that he cheated on my mom multiple times, sometimes with colleagues. I remember the disabled fencing champion, former military personnel, that he slept with and then went on to give her chlamydia to my mother. I'm not going to list them all, only the ones that are relevant. But he had at least five mistresses.

I remember the one lieutenant who was the one to truly break their marriage during a mission in Chad, and who afterwards went to complain to the commanding officer, that he had broken her heart and that she got depression because of him. (She's a captain now. I know how she looks like. Not ugly, but I definitely wouldn't want to meet her... too many memories.)

I remember my former stepmom, the mother of my two sisters, that he "missed so much" when he would visit us in the south. I remember my brother was visiting, too. 

He was acting all standoffish and silent, and then told my mom that "he missed her so much". For fuck's sake why are you even here if you miss your mistress this much? Go to her place? That's what she told him. I remember the argument that ensued, and how he threw my coconut on the ground, and I was in tears because I had really wanted a coconut to eat and drink from. 

I know him.

I know that the reason why he never speaks ill of my former stepmom is because SHE was the one to tell him to fuck right off and to file for divorce, because once he had acquired her and she was no longer interesting, he couldn't hold it in his pants anymore. I mean, their marriage failed after only four years. They were together for ten, got engaged right after he divorced my mom, had my first sister, then married a couple years later... had my second sister, and two years later, boom.

He never ever speaks ill of her, nor "knows what's going on in her life". But when it's about demolishing my mom behind her back, he's all in. 

She threw him out, I'm dead sure of it, and I'm dead sure that was because she caught him cheating.

And now he may be doing this to my current stepmom, who I love, who I was getting along well with before I made the mistake of voicing my concerns about them buying a house together when they had never lived under the same roof 24/7, only every other week and sharing vacations, when they both had children including a teen girl with serious enough mental health issues that she's been repeatedly hospitalized for them, when... my stepmom earns much less than him, when they've only known each other for three years and were not officially engaged or married...

I'm so, so glad I'm not here to see it. Imagine if I were living with them, in that house, and found that picture. I would be caught in yet another predicament where I am not allowed to speak because if I do, all hell breaks loose. As usual my voice being a weapon. I would have to shut up, to keep a secret I should not be keeping.

...He disgusts me. This man disgusts me. I don't care if it was all platonic: when you're with someone you do NOT accept this even from a colleague you are close with. The simple fact this closeness exists on a picture to me is a red flag. You don't let your female colleagues kiss you on the cheek when you're married or at least taken, do you? 

***

You know. Leonard also disgusts me. The master corporal does with that way of never even being the least polite to me and on top of that throwing barbs at Esme behind her back and, according to Sagitta "sometimes gossiping" when she overhears conversatrions. Dionysus also disgusted me when he ignored my request to close the window and then let Capella do it. 

But nobody can ever disgust me stronger than my father does. Nobody will ever come close.

That said, I hardly have any bond as visceral as I have with him. Not just because he's my father: he was also my favourite parent as a child, and we were just... fused together. I would literally cry in despair when he'd leave on Sunday nights for work. I'd miss him so hard when he was on a mission for four, six months at a time. I even slept with his camo blanket and with his scarf and feared I would die in my sleep having never seen him again. 

The others? I can get close, but you only have two parents. The only person I can think about who I share this visceral attachment to is Hopoe after all, and even, I'd tolerate her being away better, because I'm an adult now. It's not like I'm still the five year old girl who wants her daddy.

But this fucker won't ever be satisfied. He will never be. Now my stepmom is acquired, as she may not be married to him yet (though perhaps they're now officially at least common-law partners?). Now he can cheat on her and if this is not the case, he will.

Because he will never change. He's had two years of therapy and even went to other therapists various times in the past, but therapy only enabled him to keep "putting himself first", be selfish, and become even more of a piece of trash.

***

And my mom says that in one of his former regiments, curiously the one the lieutenant was from, that there's a picture of him being all touchy feely with a cute young blonde... holding her head in his hands... when he was still married... 

...when he would leave his desperate wife and daughter because "he had to clean his 9 meters square room" at the regiment... or that time when he came back after leaving us crying in the living room once again, only to say "I forgot my keys", taking them, and going back out on his motorbike. We were floored. I was eleven when those events happened.

***

Anyway. I've spent an hour and a half typing this, and I'm feeling much better. 

But next time I sure as hell am not going. I don't care if I get scolded. My health over social obligations, point blank. Because next time maybe it's not just the start of heatstroke I may suffer.

It may be the real deal.