Bad Math

Mucinex + tramadol + zoloft = bad combo. Almost ER worthy, but not quite. I'm finally able to lay down after 17 hours (?!) of side effects. 'night.

Week Two, No Casualties

Good: Hub has been working his hot ass off making our house look like a home, and so far it is beautiful! Today was the first day of our local farmers market and we scored a bunch of cut veggies and my own lil' rainbow chard plant! A dear old friend of mine who happens to be an editor and writer took a stab at reading my novella from a few years back (NaNoWriMo, google that shit yo) and thought it was good! This excites me in a brainy, nerdy way I cannot explain, but it's universal I think.

Bad: Looks like I've got tinnitus (pulsitile?) which is added to My Big List of Bullshit Body Bummers, aka my MS symptoms list. Eh; not really bad, but not good and not ugly, either. Speaking of which...

Ugly: The lawyers office called, again, harassing me about my therapist's unwillingness to cooperate, again. I got pissed fast, and tore into the gal on the line. I've now explained ten actual times that he won't work with them. They keep badgering. I keep yelling, then hanging up and fucking crying, of all things, because I'm so frustrated with them. After the years and years of bullshit I've dealt with, I can't honestly say I blame him one iota! Bunch of savages in this world*. The patience that hub & I have put forth to accommodate and care for pater has juuuuuust about run the fuck out as well. If one has diabetes, one would think it paramount to monitor that shit, right? Well, pater feels differently. Of course. Have I mentioned he's a republican scientologist realtor? No? Well, there's at least 30% of why we don't get along. He's also got vertigo and won't do the simple fucking things necessary to control it, so I'm up all night listening for when he gets up, to make sure he doesn't crash.
I'm barely sleeping, barely eating and barely scraping by. I cut again. Bedrest has gotten way, way past old. These are the things I know I know.



Heh. Gotta find the humour, else what's the point, right?








*You win 100 internets and some snoogins if you got the reference!

Deep Breathing

Brain,

I don't know why you insist on asking him his opinion of your artsy fartsy crap. He always hates it, and he always will. Stop asking.

Grow From Love,

Common Sense

Shitty Days Made Good

To combat my Ultra Shitty Mood, I try to be silly. Making silly faces, telling bad jokes (to myself or the cat, anyone who'll listen really), listening to big band music and generally embracing my inner 5 year old.

What works the best and fastest, though, is sending ridiculously silly lolcats to my friends & family (via text or email). Wanna know why this works so well?

Spreading joy lessens the weight of my my misery. So go try it for yourself.

Ausfahrt.

The pater has been here for 5 days, and has already tried to drive alone, at night, to the casino...which resulted in him hitting a curb, blowing a tire, walking with his cane up a goddamn highway until a police officer picked him up and brought him home.

You'd think that would be a lesson learned, but no; he's out on his own right now. Says he's getting coffee.

Coffee ain't 45 minutes away. It's 5 minutes, in traffic.

__________________

I sit corrected, he has arrived. That's one point for him.

Zoinks, yo!

List tiiiime:

Huge lightning strike on next block!!!

Gi-fucking-NORmous black spider ran across the room!!

Precipice of panic attack all day!

Fuckity fuck!

Thank you and good night!

The GOP and my Vagina

I just sent yet another message off to my state Governor, Tom Corbett (Pa-R) with the following text:

Dear Governor Corbett:  Please, please, PLEASE stop thinking that your political/religious party have ANY RIGHT to dictate what I do with my own personal vagina. YOU DO NOT. If you can show me on my vagina where your "PROPERTY OF" stamp was placed, we'll talk. Until then? STAY OUT OF IT.
With thanks and much stunned head-shaking, A Registered Voter.

Now, what have YOU done today to fight the war on women?  Go here, find your people, and tell them to stay out of your vagina! 

Delays Can Be Helpful

Ugh. I am teh nauseous. Stupid flu goo. Anyway.

I don't know if anyone reads this shit or not, but either way I'd like to say thank you. I need this place to think and remember and plan and organise, because the fibro fog is frequent and the symptoms of MS are adding up slowly. So, thank you for letting me put my shit out here and not flaming me into a ball under the couch.

Dad & I spoke a few times today and he sounds good! Even joked about how "off" he was, and the only issues we had were with the fact that the hospital somehow lost his hearing aids (which HOLYCRAP he needs, heh) and he couldn't hear a goddamn thing I said.  The news with him is that they're doing more tests to find out why he's lost a shitload of weight in a short time, as well as what's going on with his vertigo. It is crazysauce up in this family, yo! And by crazysauce, I mean we are a mixed up lot of ailments, oddities and issues, much like most of my sauces. Bazinga! Since he's having more tests, they're not releasing him yet. This works out because with the family stuff, the flu shit, the flu shits and the shitty flu, we've not had the chance to get him a dresser, etc. for his room. He's got a bed and, if he's lucky, I'll whip up a mural for him in there. He loves bi-planes, so maybe one of those will wind up on the wall somewhere.

The lawyer's office called back, and tomorrow I'm supposed to hear from my actual lawyer. My fingers are not crossed, nor my toes or eyes, because if my life has taught me anything it was to Not Get One's Hopes Up! Also known as, shit happens - frequently.

My mood has improved, however, which is a combination of some smart ideas and some stupid ones, but the latter will always heal over and the former will be added to my silver ribbon box. (for info on that, check out thebloggess.com and her brilliant silver ribbon idea.)

It is way past my bedtime, but the fatuous flu has filled my flat friggin' front with funk, so I'm phlegmin' it up in here, friends.

Long Days, Longer Nights.

Since my last post (and edit), things have sped up in extreme slow motion for us. My father is being released this coming weekend and I caught, then gave, the flu to the hub. He's asleep next to me now, softly snoring away. Hopefully he snores away his fever, too.
I was able to say a final goodbye to my uncle on Friday, along with our immediate family and some very old friends/prior neighbors we've not seen in years. Joyous reunion, fucking shitty circumstances. So it goes. I wish I could make it all better for my aunt and cousin.

I can't.

But I can be there if/when they need me, with hugs and love, just like always.

___________________________

In other newsishybits, my lawyer's office sent a letter and called to inform me I have a new hearing in October for my disability case, in Maryland. Um. I thought that was over, but hey! Surprise. After explaining to the nice, also flu-ridden young lady there that I absolutely cannot go to Maryland and that I'd requested the whole thing moved up here repeatedly, she said someone else will call me tomorrow.
We'll see.

The reason I can't go there is simply that the pain involved in a car ride of even a few hours will lay me up in bed for days, even weeks if it's raining. My ol' bones & muscles plain can't handle the jostling, rumbling ride any route that direction would take for anywhere near the length of the drive in minutes, which I'd be counting until I couldn't count no more. If I somehow win and am awarded the disability coverage from the gov't, I'll eat my fucking hat.

Just in case, I'll be over here crocheting a rice noodle tam...

It has been one long, long fuckin week, spent in bed with tea, tissues & tofu.

Let's hope next week is better.