Archive for July, 2012
Within about two hours my fever shot up from 100°F to 101°F. Which is good as it means I’m fighting this bloody thing. It’s in my chest right now and may be moving toward my throat. I’ve got my humidifier going and have been wearing my medical procedure masks to get some my own moisture in me. Although, my head is still all spinny since I woke up. My stomach, too? I’m about to reach for the Gravol despite how much I don’t want to take it. If I do, who knows how much more spinny things will become then?
I can be stubborn but only about a few things? Maybe? Things that are important and matter very much personally. Then shit I refuse to put up with (usually dumb things like me now buying a new phone, silly irritants, like that in my immediate environment, not being able to DO things I want to do.)
So, I’m getting a new phone, but I was so STUPID I missed the closest store. How far along was the next? I knew there was one somewhere along this main artery. Found it! It was very far away.
I also thought I had “Super Powers” against the rain. It wouldn’t rain when I was out. WRONG! I was wearing a white top and a black bra. I’m sure everyone enjoyed that little peep show.
I make it to the store but I can’t get the phone until Monday. Fine (something about warranties.) If I’m still sick in any form, I’ll take transit. I took a damn cab back as was drenched and freezing.
This always happens to me. When I push myself too hard, I tend to get sick. I very much question the capabilities of my immune system. Is it due to all the sickness currently, or…well, always sick as a kid.
Because you see, it wasn’t just the soaker and the long walk. I felt fine (excusing the fact I could turn into an ice cube within seconds.) My mobility was amazing and I loved getting the exercise! However, that is not the only thing I have done over the last couple of days–due to my being stubborn. This was regarding my home environment.
Something in my head blew a neuronal gasket (or several) and I could no longer stand certain things I have been dying to do since a whole whack of my “stuff” went into storage. Locked and loaded!
My bed is sacred. If you were Catholic, you would be on your knees constantly praying on any side, the bottom, hell, anywhere near it! I needed new pillows and I had come across six that I barely kneeled in front of when I found them! Time to clean off the bed/office/closet/pharmacy and do all my linens. I did have others to put on, nonetheless. Just removing everything off it took about a have hour? Finally, done! Ohhhhh….sooooo gooood…
Ugh. More laundry. Fuck it. I’m tired.
Next day, whoa boy. The kitchen (and the laundry simultaneously.) Drag this here, that there. Try and clean dust, vacuum. Then, an old shoe shelf. Goddamn particle board! Will it hold together with the weight of my shoes? Wow. PA semi-smart.
And this. Oh, what I NEED and WANT! Waiting forever! A small, two-person, dinette. Get that bloody table up and at least one chair! I HAVE A TABLE AND CHAIR! I can actually eat somewhere other than my bed, plus work on baby BacBook!
So, why am I so stubborn today? Comments and Twitter people!!! *evil frown* How long has this been going on! Seriously! Since my “might-as-well-flush-it-down-the-toilet-phone” isn’t even working, I didn’t even see I had new email here!
Maybe after some more tea. And a bit more rest. Let’s see how high my temperature goes, too. And how much my brain may sink into oblivion. I’d scream in frustration so loud right now, that the entire building would hear me. If I had the energy.
Well, folks. Where to begin? I’ll save the best for last!
I have already expressed my concerns about the possibility of having cancer. I will emphasize “possibility.” There could be other things, and hell! I could end up with another “who knows what the good, goddamn thing’s about!”
I received a call from my mother who said verbatim: “I trust you and your knowledge more than the doctors.” My mother does not read my blog! So, I guess she has now reached the conclusion that I am Dr. PA. Or Dr. <insert real name.>
Regardless, her husband has prostate cancer and suddenly, took a turn for…? I was astonished at the variety of signs and symptoms she was telling me. I dared not say a thing about certain organs affected and other areas of physiognomy. The biggest being neurological problems!
Not to sound callous, but if he dies, fine. My more immediate concern is where on earth will my mother go? They have no money. Finally, due to their stressors regarding his cancer, I am not saying a word about my own personal concerns of having esophageal cancer.
My sister. I don’t care if she thinks she has the hugest case of peri-menopause ever seen by medical specialists the world ’round. My insane mother is now acting more sane than my non-insane sister.
To cut to the chase and try not to keep this post 1,000,000 words long (which it could very well be anyway!) I called her and told her of my medical concerns as I wish her to be my Executrix and handle all Directives etc. She’s known this forever, but now a bit of advance notice? Just in case something does turn up?
I may have hit a nerve, but let’s be real. She began pitying me for my constant health problems but she just “let’s things go now…” Excuse me? The last time I checked, being remotely peri-menopausal does not make you lose your senses of sympathy or empathy. There was an accusation about a funny (tried to be!) message I left on their home VM. She said she thought I was drunk so just ignored it. What the bloody, huh?
I tried to repeat what I was saying and then she just started screaming at me, “NO! NO! NO!” Time to end the call. Which I politely and maturely did. Then, I immediately sent off an email to clear some things up and also say we never even got a chance to talk about the GOOD stuff in my life! We don’t communicate often and most certainly not as often as we used to in the past.
Number Four. Non-Arsey Neuro will not increase my Clobazam past my current 100mg. I have told him I have steadily been making progress. However, I’m still sick, going mental and having seizures when the Typical Absence Status Epilepticus intervals hit. I broke down crying and freaking and yelling at him as he said I’ll be fine on this amount. I’ll get better.
I’ve been on it since February. Now, I am being referred to a large, and highly regarded neuroscience centre here at one of our hospitals. Fine. I’ll do anything they want! Nonetheless, I am now pondering the fact that I may have intractable epilepsy.
Ohhhh, the kicker!!! Kick indeed. As in, “KICK YOU OUT OF MY LIFE!!!” Part of me still can’t believe it. I keep picking up my mobile and looking for a flashing light. Oh, is that you? I must have been away from my mobile. It’s not done in an obsessive way. Not at all! It’s done out of habit. Because we talked to each other (even just via txt) every day.
P. My friend P. who I’ve known for five years…with never any blowouts, blowups (unless slight but then an immediate apology–usually words said out of care that went awry.) P. has given me a massive “FUCK YOU!!!”
Via text. It was so violent and malicious in its wording! He was accusing me of things I had never, ever done! I jumped right back on it and I guess you can probably imagine what I said! And that I loved him! He knew that too! Nothing. It gets “better” though.
I later heard that he was talking to his therapist for a while about doing this.
I went positively mad. Completely out of my head. Two days of non-stop PTSD dissociation. I’ve experienced a few hours and one full day before, but that prior full day was NOTHING compared to this!!!
It was so bad, when I went to see my therapist and she called my name, I just sat there staring at nothing. Did I hear it? Did I hear some of it? Did it just not register? She said it again a bit louder. I turned my head slowly in her general direction but I wasn’t looking at anything. I couldn’t make any eye contact through our session, until I finally left and slowly again, lifted my head in her head’s direction. I saw her face for about two seconds and she was smiling at me.
P. I just don’t get it! If he would only sit down and maturely discuss things! EXPLAIN things!!! Tell me what’s going on!!! God, I’d be MORE than happy to do that!
Which may seem counterintuitive to my choices for the MP3 Series. My feelings have gone from extremely angry to absolute depression to even forgiveness for what he’s done.
“Bitch” by Apoptygma Berzerk
“The Things You Said” by Depeche Mode
“Temperamental” by Everything But The Girl
There’s so much going on. So much unbelievably bad stuff. My brain’s had it. I actually did a cutting tonight (AFTER HOW LONG OF NOT DOING ONE?!?!?!) It’s a subcu and too deep for me to stitch so I’m totally fucked right off the bat there. And don’t bitch about my suturing! That was dealt with ages ago.
I so fucking do NOT want to go inpatient. But there is only one place I can possibly go and that means packing up my gear, lugging it there, and it’s not close.
And apart from my head…? Well…I can work the system…stitch me up and let me go home. Done that before. But if I can’t this time, nobody can go back to my place to get my gear.
Hey! I’m not bleeding anymore at least! I’m beyond exhausted. I need to lie down for a while. Goddamn hospitals are always “open.”
Try and keep you posted…I will. But don’t worry. Not going to top myself.