People are dead in Oregon because someone broke the law.
Another law is just another law for a criminal to break. This is an extremely simple concept.
Taking cars away from everyone because of a drunk driver makes no sense, but they kill more people every year than gun violence (here’s a handy breakdown of the numbers for you [you’ll note that they decided to compare miles to bullets, which is stupid, so their end argument is a fallacy by way of bias, but still – numbers that you can see yourself] – I found sources on both sides of the aisle that said basically the same thing; note that this is all vehicular deaths, not just drunk drivers).
I’m not saying everyone needs a gun, or that everyone has to agree that guns are awesome, or anything like that. I just think that we need to focus on the person who did the horrible thing, rather than the object they used.
In short: I’m not blaming anyone or anything except the person who committed the crime.
I’m not insensitive to the dead. The way they died doesn’t change that their lives have ended, and that it’s extremely sad that one person had such an awful effect on so many. I’m heartbroken for those families.
Let’s focus on the people. They’re the ones with the power to act. Cars and guns just sit there until we decide to use them.
If you can’t be bothered to focus on people rather than objects, perhaps your empathy is in the wrong place, and you shouldn’t be driving, either. We can’t have you treating pedestrians like pylons.
I read this article, earlier, and I have some thoughts. It turned into something too long for Facebook, but I don’t feel like editing the format, so please excuse the somewhat-jumbled style.
In high school, some fellow 9th graders read “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.” There’s an earnest depiction of child rape, from the eyes of a pre-adolescent girl. Some people were bothered by it, but they read it because it was part of the assignment. The teacher was very frank about it. I wasn’t in that class (I didn’t read that book until I was 27, in fact), but I remember a girl in my health class telling me that it really bothered her because of her past (she didn’t elaborate, but the way she said it, you knew she’d seen some shit). Everyone else was just squicked out by the concept, as they should be. The girl with the actual issue was excused from the book, and given an alternate assignment that explored the same issues of poverty and race, and everyone moved on.
That book has been challenged (attempted to be banned) nearly 40 times, IIRC.
I don’t have a “kids these days” comparison, because when I was in college, the books I read were part of honors classes, and my classmates were all respectful of the fact that the world is not a pretty place, and that we were there to learn, pretty much just like when I was in high school (the only reason books weren’t read was because of laziness).
I do read Tumblr because it amuses me. But I’ve had to block words and phrases not because the topics themselves offend me, but because the opponents of those concepts are terrifying. I don’t mind hearing about Ferguson – this stuff is a problem. But the constant barrage is too much.
I don’t like even considering following politics because it’s so divisive that the tension is enough to make my blood pressure go up. I love a good debate – I love listening to more than one side, presenting points, and even having my mind changed. But people don’t want to change your mind – they want you to be of the same mindset from the beginning, or they think you a lesser being…and they’ve become vicious.
College kids are particularly prone to this phenomenon, I think, because college is that time where they can start making their own life decisions in earnest, away from their parents, for the most part. We’re told that college is where we go to be free and become who we really are. We’re told that it’s where we can cut loose and shape our lives.
We just need to learn that shaping our lives shouldn’t involve shaping everyone around you by force. I will avoid conversations that bother me, but I will not tell someone to not speak for fear of my delicate psyche. I know what makes me anxious, and I’m learning to deal with it by *gasp* thinking about those things and rationalizing my reaction to them.
Does talk of rape make me uncomfortable? Lord, yes. But I’ve figured out that it’s not necessarily the memory of my sexual assault that makes me feel awful – reading about it is not a trigger. It’s empathy. It’s a very uncomfortable realization that while I don’t know exactly what that person went through, I understand the emotions that come with it – the shame, etc. It’s like being embarrassed for someone, to oversimplify the feeling.
I won’t try to police when people should say they have a trigger, but I sure as hell know that if someone uses the word “bitches” to describe women as a whole, that’s an eye-roller, not a personal attack that threatens me or my way of life. It’s just a shitty thing. I’ve seen people get upset by being called a “girl” if they’re over the age of 18. ...really?
And people wanting to pet a camel is not animal cruelty, for fuck’s sake.
I’ve got different gender and sexuality things happening (I’m still figuring it out after detaching myself from the stuff to keep from thinking about it for over 20 years), suffer from depression and PTSD from prolonged abuse, and according to some internet residents, that should excuse me if I decide to go on a rampage against “cisgndered” heterosexuals who are “problematic.” NOOOOOO. You don’t win friends and influence people by being an asshole.
And you don’t gain anything by turning your head or plugging your ears (or, in some cases, issuing a gag order) whenever something that bothers you pops up. You LOSE, significantly, because that life experience that teaches us how different we all are, and how the world is shaped, is vital to surviving.
Ironically, by trying to celebrate differences, Millenials are trying to created a hive mind. The 1984-esque future where sameness is king isn’t coming from one political party or another – it’s coming from the very people who want the world to be colorful and different.
You can’t preach tolerance if you have none, yourself, and “tolerance” doesn’t just apply to folks who are closed off to the changing world – it applies to people who want to change the world to suit their needs.
We’re all in this together. Remember that. There is more than one perspective, and until we learn to look at a box from all sides, we aren’t even really certain of whether it can actually hold anything.
I’m slightly loopy from lack of sleep, so again, I’m sorry if this seems detached. I’m just tired of watching people turn into this kid:
We don’t have to sit there and take it if someone is a complete dicknugget to us. Getting hurt is no fun. But being inconvenienced teaches us how best to deal with similar situations later in life.
I took my first dose of this new regimen (which, aside from the Tindamax, is the one I started on June 1, 2013 – how time flies…) at around noon, since I woke up kind of late.
Yesterday, my mom and I did some work around the yard, in part because it needed to be done (and I needed her help to do some of the things), and in part because I knew it would be a while before I was able to do anything outside. I overdid it, tweaked my back pretty badly, and have been taking muscle relaxers to be able to move around and do what I need to (just in terms of basic human functions). Alas, this also means that, despite going to bed at a semi-reasonable hour last night, I also slept a bit late.
Anyway, the first thing I’ve noticed is the horrible aftertaste. My mouth tastes like cat pee smells, and I’ve already rinsed my mouth out several times. I got out of the habit of chewing gum because the teeth on my left side hurt when I do (I’ve had a filling in two molars on the bottom, since last time), but now I recall, vividly, why I chewed all that gum in the first place. It’s NASTY.
I’m nauseated for the most part due to this aftertaste. It’s just unpleasant. I have gagged a few times, but have managed to keep breakfast down.
Due to the need for something on my stomach when I take my meds, I’m adding proteins and carbs to my diet from here on out. I can’t juice the way I wanted to, but it’s okay. I’m getting whole fruits and veggies, now, and am going to be taking time out tonight to cut up and make baggies of those kinds of snacks to nibble on throughout the day. I’m going to limit carb and/or protein consumption to when I’m taking my pills. I just hope I don’t gain an aversion to chicken, again. That was awful.
I’m going to try to keep track of symptoms as they happen. If I feel completely terrible within a few days, I know (and I feel that this whole thing is deliciously ironic) that the meds are doing what they need to do.
Hopes for this round:
Not as much nausea or vomiting.
Maintain decent energy.
No increased insomnia.
Not a horrible amount of hypersomnia, either.
Less muscle pain than last time.
Less joint restriction than last time.
I know you’re supposed to let your doctors know when you start this kind of treatment, but my neurologist doesn’t give a shit about Lyme treatment (seriously, he told me he doesn’t care, because that’s not what he’s treating), and my GP is kind of cavalier about the whole thing – she reasons that as long as I’m under the care of someone who’s monitoring me closely, it’s fine. And it’s not like they don’t have the positive blood test in my file.
I think my reservations about this situation, or the main one, is that my LLMD is booked solid through November. I’m supposed to check in, and change meds, in 3 months (September). So I guess I’m going to either have to do a phone consultation, or just leave a message being like “yo, this is what happened, what’s the next step?” and hope the nurses actually call me back.
So that’s what’s going on, today. I’m going to be taking things as they come, and trying to not anticipate bad things…but I’m also going to prepare for them. Forrest’s work schedule will either prove to be problematic or fortuitous, depending on how horribly my sleep schedule gets messed up. I have friends in the area willing to help, so regardless, I think I’m going to be okay.
And I still have my parasol, so damn it, I’m going to keep trying to leave the house in spurts, because I’m tired of being cooped up, and don’t want that to be my life, again.
I went in for my Lyme appointment on Wednesday, just as a follow-up, and didn’t plan on talking about some of the bad physical things going on with me, lately, with my LLMD, because I didn’t think much of it – I figured it was summer, me being tired, and me being on Trazodone, again (which I’ve stopped taking – weaned myself off last week).
(The bad things are as follows: I’ve been feeling objectively awful, lately. My sleep schedule has varied so wildly that I am having trouble keeping up with day-to-day stuff. I’m depressed as hell. My med doses have had to be adjusted numerous times in a short period of time because my blood pressure is dipping and going up, seemingly at random. Yeah, I have osteoarthritis of the hip, but my hip hasn’t been the joint hurting me the most, lately, and the pain has been worse, affecting how I sit, stand, and walk.)
He gave me a look. It was the “I have a bad feeling about this…” look, mixed with the “…fuck” look. It was like he was afraid of relapse at the same time as his brain went “WELP,” and he sat there for a second before just beginning to prattle off the names of antibiotics.
I’m sure I looked like this:
Mad props to Sophie for giving me the most awkward face ever.
He asked me which ones worked for me in the past, and my mind just derped, and I started rattling off the names of the meds I started on, way back at the end of 2013. He wrote them down, then said something about an antibiotic meant to kill teensy organisms, and went on about different drugs targeting different forms of Lyme. It’s all stuff I know, but it was startling to hear him going on and on about it, after being in remission for 6 months. The only times I’ve been really thinking about Lyme were in past-tense, like “Oh, this happened because of Lyme…is it reversible or not? Can I improve it? Okay, let’s deal with that.” I got my singing voice back. My endurance is still meh, but it’s so much better than it was. I gained a shitload of weight, but I can enjoy food without worrying about whether or not it was wasted by my eating it, only to throw it back up because of medication side effects.
He called in my prescriptions, we talked about my bloodwork, and I gave more blood for a thyroid test (that they keep messing up, for some damned reason). My next appointment is in November, because he only sees Lyme patients on Wednesdays and Friday afternoons, and he’s busy, what with Lyme being at freakin’ epidemic levels, now, and him being one of only two LLMDs in the tri-state area.
So this is happening, and I’m not really processing it, emotionally, yet. I find myself being relieved that I didn’t form a lot of IRL friendship attachments while in remission, because this is going to put me out of commission, socially, for a while. That’s a horrible thought, but considering that some of my best friendships ended the last time I went on meds (there’s a point where you just stop calling, and then neither of you tries, any more, and it just…ends), I’m going into that pragmatic “it’s better this way” mindset, and I think that’s the thing that’s freaking me out the most.
There are folks who aren’t internet denizens that I haven’t told. The way they react to it probably won’t be good. One person in particular, I know is going to get really despondent, and I’m not looking forward to having to comfort them because my immune system decided it couldn’t handle the stress.
I don’t know that I’ve made this face more than I have the past few days.
So this is happening. And it’s going to be shitty, but it needs to be done. I start the meds on Monday, due to some weirdly specific dosing schedules.
I’ll try to keep everyone abreast of everything, just like I did last time.
I don’t really know why I haven’t been updating, but at the same time, yeah, I do.
I feel like I don’t have much to say, while also having too much to talk about.
Life is stressful, and sometimes venting online in a public forum makes me feel worse, because I don’t feel like I’ve been able to consider things myself before throwing them out into the world.
Having said that, there are folks that still check in, here, so I’m going to give you the Cliff’s Notes version of what’s been going on.
I’ve cut some folks out of my life that were adding to my stress. I’m working on doing more of that. I feel better not having to worry as much about whether something I say is going to be taken the wrong way, and yeah, it got worse after I came out as genderqueer. Some folks didn’t get the “I’m still the same person” memo (though more on THAT later).
I had some doctor drama that…yeah, it was dumb. I was referred to a pain doctor because when I rode my bike, I got a horrible nerve pain in my lower left pelvic region (behind the pubic bone), and was freaking out over what was going on. He, in turn, berated me during both visits I went to for something unrelated, and violated my privacy by yelling something offensive at me while the exam room door was open. The entire office heard him, and the next time I went in for physical therapy, the staff came and asked me what happened. That, aside from what else he said to me…yeah. He can burn in hell.
An MRI was ordered to see if my lumbar spine was to blame for my numbness (that’s literally the only thing he did for me that was in the least bit helpful), and while my lumbar spine is practically pristine, there were blobs on my thoracic and sacral vertebrae. Cue internal freakout. Then cue Google search, where I came across the term “hemangioma.” I brought it up to my neurologist, who scheduled a CT, and we confirmed that they are, indeed, hemangiomas (which are kind of like blood blisters) and unless they grow, they’re not a huge deal. The rest of my spine, along with my disks, are in great shape, which is a relief considering the bedrest and lack of core strength from the past few years.
Also discovered during an X-ray done on the same day was that I have osteoarthritis of the hip. Nothing to be done about that for the time being except to try to keep moving.
I’m still writing for IGM, and things are picking up in volume on that point, but not really picking up in terms of sustainability. I’m having trouble finding other freelance work, and with my transportation situation not changing (my car needs some work, and insurance needs to be reinstated), getting a job outside the home isn’t really something I can do easily. So here I sit.
I’m seeing a psychologist, again. I need it.
Something’s changing with my perception, and it’s scaring me a bit, because that change is more in line with how I was when I was younger – around 16 or 17, in fact. Politically, I’m going toward things that pretty much fly in the face of how I thought when I started writing this blog. The fact that there’s a return in mindset to an earlier time is what scares me – it means that, perhaps, some of my views were only there because I was sick.
It’s not just politically. There are other things changing, and again, it’s a return, not a lateral move. It’s not regression, either – I have new knowledge that I’m integrating with my opinions, and I’m doing research to make sure I’m not just reverting because of some weird emotional kick or something (like feeling lost and wanting something familiar to hold on to).
That reversion is causing me to second-guess more relationships in my life. Some of the relationships I’ve made as a part of writing this blog, in point of fact. Even some from the past few years.
On one hand, it makes me nervous, for reasons that should be obvious.
On the other hand…this might mean that my brain is “healthy.” After having Lyme make a cozy home out of my body for so long, the fact that I’m giving some things the side-eye, again, may mean the swelling has gone down, and that I might actually be cured, not just in remission. That is fucking exciting.
As always, though, I don’t want to get my hopes up and read into this something more than what it may be.
The bottom line is that things are changing with me, and so while I figure that out, and get other stuff taken care of, I’ve been neglecting this blog as a means of trying to be able to sort out my thoughts, first.
It’s not going anywhere, but it might be getting a makeover.
There has been so much going on that I felt like blog posts would be overwhelming, but I’m going to just focus on one thing at a time. Today’s post? Physical therapy.
I went to a pain clinic last Wednesday to be evaluated due to a pain I was getting in my lower pelvic region whenever I ride a bike. With other examinations, it was ascertained that my spine is having issues, so I was prescribed physical therapy (which I need, anyway, so I’m pretty happy with it), and that an MRI of the spine would be happening, pending the results of my physio evaluation, which happened, today.
Results: I have no balance, but good form. Which, okay.
The beginning of the visit went about like this:
Physio: Do this move. [lays on back, knees bent, draws one knee up to chest]
Me: Um, my boobs are in the way.
Physio: …wait, are you THAT flexible?
Me: I guess?
So the stretches for my hips are all invalid, because I’ve got hypermobility of both those and my shoulders. She asked me to show her a stretch that would actually cause my hips to feel anything, and I went into pigeon pose, which for the uninitiated looks like this:
That’s what I’ve been doing for years to stretch out pants (don’t laugh, other women do it, too, though maybe not like that), and didn’t know it had a name.
The physio started laughing, and told me to not do that pose, any more, because I could cause more damage, and we needed to get my tendons to actually do what they’re supposed to, again, and stretching them too much would basically defeat the purpose. Okay, then. She confirmed that I’d done dance, we ascertained that I have no balance and that I needed to start standing on one leg while brushing my teeth, and then got down to exercises.
I did some hip sway thing while laying on my back, did the standard “move your arms alternately,” did some weird marching thing on my back, and then I got to use the machines, which included a sitting stairstepper (yes, it’s as ridiculous as it sounds), and leg presses using my own weight. My quads are in good shape, I just need more endurance, but my calves were like HAHAHAHAHA when I tried to lift my body weight with my toes.
There’s a hydrotherapy area just next to the weight bench, and I kept glancing over there because a man was doing treadmill work, and the physio said, “You know what? That’s not a bad idea for you. Bring your swimsuit next time, and we’ll start you in hydrotherapy.”
The reasoning behind this is weird, but if I understand it correctly, my hips are so hypermobile that I’m not going to be able to build muscle because they have no resistance. They usually get resistance from muscles and bones or something. So the resistance will come from the water until they can do it on their own.
Now I have to buy a swimsuit.
And I’m getting an MRI soon to figure out what the hell my spine is doing, because my body is numb in really awkward places (the top of my right foot can feel pressure, but has no sensation on the skin – the cold spray test was really weird because I literally couldn’t feel that my foot had been sprayed), and I’m having trouble with some basic tasks. I’ve also got weird tics, and nystagmus.
So there it is. That’s what’s going on, health-wise. What they’re screening for with the MRI goes beyond just regular spinal issues (like swollen or herniated discs), but I’m not at a point where I feel like I can talk about it without getting weirdly emotional.
I’m really looking forward to more physio, though. I’m really enjoying it, so far.
I went to visit Jennifer and Michael (i.e. Evyl Robot) last weekend for both some R&R and the SUPER! BitCon convention. (Their son, Isaac, is pretty awesome, and I was happy to meet all of them, finally.) I was able to make this a legitimate work trip due to the fact that there were a number of independent game developers there, and while there were a couple of hiccoughs, the overall trip was amazing, and I’m so glad I went.
It turns out that the guy who literally wrote the book on corrective hair color has his shop in OKC, so of course I asked Jennifer to make an appointment for me. My flight arrived around noon, so we had a couple of hours to kill, and then I went to spend 5 hours in a salon, gabbing and having my hair made to look the best/strangest it ever has.
Here, have some photos:
First, the hair was cut off. It looked like someone slaughtered the Cheshire cat.
Bleaching my roots!
So much for letting my hair recover eh?
The color being painted on by Tom.
In florescent lights.
Outside – photo by Jennifer Hast
Outside – photo by Jennifer Hast
Outside – photo by Jennifer Hast
So that was pretty amazing.
edit: I met Firehand on Friday! It was exciting, and I can’t believe I forgot to mention it, and I feel like a bit of an ass for it. Here is a photo of him in what turned out to be most of an Indiana Jones cosplay:
Very handsome security, indeed!
I helped with setup on Friday, as well (“helped” basically meaning running around and lifting some really heavy things), and got to take a sneak peek at a really neat piece of gaming equipment that was originally created with the goal of helping Reserves members hone their shooting skills. It’s called the MACS, and it’s pretty badass:
Yes, this is a sewing machine that hooks up to a Game Boy.
Here’s the cartridge that makes the whole thing run.
There was an exercise bike that also ran on Super Nintendo, and Jennifer was kind enough to demonstrate how it worked (Michael helped!):
Jen rides, Michael “encourages.”
The game cartridge.
I could spend all day recounting the neat stuff I saw during setup, and during the convention, but most of the noteworthy stuff, I’m actually writing about as much as I can on IGM, so you can mosey over there.
The Hasts have a knack for thrift-shopping, and they took me along to their favorite place, known as “Pastor Mike’s.” It’s pretty much a perpetual garage sale, with such a wide variety of stuff that it took me aback. I hadn’t really found anything, and was waiting for some glasses (Star Trek, naturally) to be boxed up for safe carry, when Jen pulled a pair of boots out of a small area and said, “Wow, real Docs made in England.” My first question was “What’s size are they?” and it turns out they’re an 8, so YAY! I got them home, and I seriously thought they were brown because of how dirty they were. Nope, they’re black! I oiled them with grape seed oil to get the surface dirt off, and they’re so pretty. New laces, and they’re ready to go. I wore them around, and the only issue is the insoles – they’re a bit worn. For $5 (maybe $10? I was tired, I’m not sure), you can’t beat this:
When they were first spotted in the shop.
Post-cleaning, no flash.
Post-cleaning, flash. They’re kind of beat up.
One shoe cleaned.
When I found out they were actually black.
They were so dirty they really did look dark brown.
We sat around and had good food (I had snow crab legs for the first time! YUM!), played some great video games (Journey! A video might be forthcoming…), and I discovered that strawberry moscato is pretty much the best and most dangerous drink, ever.
I met the animals, and they quickly decided that I was the answer to all of their nap problems. ANIMAL PICTURES! WOO!
Ferrule is closest, Heidi is in the middle, and Emerson is at the end.
Heidi quickly wanted to be closer to me, so the two boys snuggled up further down.
I got up to pee, and ended up having to prop my legs on the back of the couch to go back to sleep.
They were really excited about my bedding being on the couch.
Emerson is a big cuddly baby.
Heidi and Ferrule occasionally cuddle.
I met and immediately irritated the piss out of ProJared, a popular streamer. So that was fun. Here, have a panel discussion:
I actually missed a full day of the convention, because I was too busy having a shitty migraine, but the second day was a lot of fun. I don’t even know how I can condense it into a post that already very long (with lots of photos), because man, AAAGH.
I missed my flight home on Tuesday night, but was able to get on standby for Wednesday, so I got to witness an Oklahoma thunderstorm while eating an excellent pork roast and asparagus, which was fantastic. We don’t often get lightning and thunder that are really spectacular, so being in the middle of that with pretty minimal rainfall (compared to Memphis, where it’s basically raining really hard or just humid) was amazing. I’m not happy about missing my flight, but I was happy to have missed my flight, if that makes sense.
Bayonetta 2 was also played, so that was fun. :D
I met so many great people from the Oklahoma Retro Gamer’s Society, had a great time at the convention, and the Hasts are excellent hosts. I am exhausted, but it was worth every spoon.
I leave you with a photo of me and Jen shooting zombies (House of the Dead – I ran out of quarters when we were halfway through the final boss, which was unfortunate, and I had to modify my stance because it was so crowded):
Okay, so. The IDSA (Infectious Diseases Society of America) is notorious in the Lyme community for their stodgy view on Lyme, and, most notably, chronic Lyme.
Their argument for decades has been, “if there are no antibodies, a bacterial disease is no longer active; therefore, it no longer exists in the body.” That’s more of a paraphrase than a direct quote, but you get the point.
I’ve talked about how Lyme likes to hide in the body’s own cells, how it can cross the blood-brain barrier, etc. These are things bacteria shouldn’t be able to do – but syphilis does it, and it’s recognized as an ongoing problem in people whose infections have gone undetected for years. It can cause lasting damage to the brain because, well, the brain doesn’t really do well under circumstances where it’s being attacked by a disease.
It stands to reason that a disease that can not only cross the blood-brain barrier (i.e. a spirochete), but can also hide using the body’s cells (i.e. a virus or a cancer), could stay in the body as long as its host stays alive. It is a parasitic, virus-like bacteria that proliferates like a cancer. You want to talk about convoluted structure? Lyme and its life-cycle has it (it even exists in manganese, rather than iron – that’s a serious anomaly).
With all of these qualities, and all of the knowledge about Lyme that has been gained in just the past 5 years, one would think that the IDSA would adjust its guidelines and perspectives accordingly, but, well, there are several issues there that I’m not qualified to speak on, but they have to do with conflicts of interest, business-wise.
The Mayday Project (look them up, I’m not linking to them for reasons you’re about to read) posted the above as a means for people to “take action” and join them for an annual demonstration in Washington, D.C. to protest the IDSA guidelines. I took a screenshot because this might be deleted, and we can’t have that, can we?
That quote in the photo above has no attribution, no date – you can look up the name of the doctors and see that they are, indeed, prominently influencing the current IDSA, and then get excited because it is made to look like this is a current quote that is a reason for hope, thus making the march seem more timely and important.
The march is important, but it’s NOT important enough to lie for the attention.
So I’d like to give the One Finger Salute to The Mayday Project for accusing the IDSA for lying, and then turning around and doing the same thing just to create excitement from people who are looking for hope in their darkest hour.
You can take your 27-year-old quote (yeah – 27 years – count that, again) and shove it up your collective rear end. You’re irresponsible, and I’ve just lost every single shred of respect I had for your organization with your single action, because you’re supposed to be “the good guys.”
ETA: So this just happened on Twitter – I was expressing excitement, a friend came in to be supportive, and then I realized what had happened, tagged those responsible, and they came back at me with weaksauce. “We’re sorry you misunderstood, but we’re leaving it as-is because we want people to come to our site,” is the gist of the answer.
Here, look at the whole thing (unedited). I got salty, because this is fucking bullshit:
We’ve got a place to stay, I’ve just requested my credentials (and since I still need him to help me around, even though I’m feeling much better, I hope Forrest is approved as my assistant, because yeah, I wouldn’t be able to go without him), and I’m making plans for who/what/where!
I’m ridiculously excited. It’s been 3 years, and I’m not ridiculously sick, any more, so I’ll be able to do a lot more, and have more fun.
I’m looking forward to seeing everyone! Let me know if you want to meet up, and I can exchange numbers with people I know (since my phone number changed, this might be necessary, anyway).
February 21st, 2015 | Category: guns, nraam | Comments are closed
Today was my 4-month checkup from the neurologist (my very no-nonsense Indian doctor who is freakin’ hilariously blunt).
The focus of the check-up was to make sure my migraine meds are working. Secondary concerns are back and neck pain, dizziness, and nerve pain.
My migraine meds, as far as I can tell, are working. The Lamictal is doing what it’s supposed to do. I’ve had a couple of really bad headaches, and had a two-day migraine from hell just a few weeks ago, but I think it was worse because of stress and lack of sleep. I had a headache today, but a certain tiny little fart-monster decided to walk around the room mewling at me and occasionally jumping on my head, so we’ll go ahead and cite “lack of sleep” on that one, too.
Dizziness is better, balance is better, nerve pain’s still a problem (my legs are seriously pissing me off, you guys), but it’s…bearable, most of the time. Which is a step up, for sure, but I’m still wondering what to do, there.
My balance is so good that I am now able to stand on one leg and do stretches. They’re not pretty, and I’m not the most graceful person in the world, but dammit, for about 10 seconds at a time, I can look semi-normal. I can do the other exercises I was given last time, as well, and they’re helping.
I got those cortisol shots in my hips, again, except instead of the ones in the greater trochanter (i.e. the very top and outside of my femurs), I got them in the sacroiliac joint (it’s in the back, basically where the pelvis meets sacrum, which is near the base of the spine). I didn’t realize that area was bad until the doc pressed on it (I haven’t had someone do that since…um…2009? When I was being screened for fibromyalgia), and I actually went “FUCK, sorry…ow, FUCK…sorry…” and then basically lost my breath. It hurt, is what I’m saying.
After the shots, which also had a numbing agent in them, I was asked to lay on my back on the table, and the neuro stretched and flexed my legs to assess my hips. He lifted my leg up and kept pushing my foot back toward my head…and would stop for a second, look at me, keep pushing, look at me, and finally he said, “Wow, yes, you are flexible.” Thanks, Doc.
I think it was because I hadn’t eaten much, and hadn’t gotten sleep, but after a couple of minutes, the shot went to my head, and I felt legitimately drunk. It wasn’t terribly fun, and neither is the pain in my butt from the shots, but if they help that stupid “non-specific inflammation,” I’ll deal.
THEN THE BEST PART HAPPENED: I got cleared to drive! :D
Anyway, so things are good. I go back in 4 weeks to get the greater trochanter shots, and then won’t go back for 6 months. I’m pretty stoked about being on maintenance.
In other news that’s related;
A few weeks ago, I was talking to a new friend who mentioned wanting to go bike riding. I happen to have that great bike I bought *mumble* years ago and only rode twice (because who the hell sells a hybrid commuter to someone who says they want a cruiser? because OW), so I was like “we’ll clean it up and it’s yours!” It didn’t get cleaned up, but she’s taking it, anyway – her boyfriend (who’s a mutual friend of mine) can fix it up, so that’s that. She gets it on Sunday.
This directly relates to what I’m going to be picking up on Saturday:
The thinking on this is multi-faceted:
It’s a bike, for cryin’ out loud. You ride them. They’re fun.
Walking hurts the hell out of the joints on the left side of my body. I’m positive that leg’s shorter. I want to exercise, but I want it to be fun (see point 1).
I want to get out of the house.
Forrest will be getting out and riding with me, which will be good for him.
It’s a cruiser, and I sat on it for a while at the store, and while no bike seat is going to be perfectly cushy to someone who has spent the majority of the past two years in bed, I have to say, it’s pretty damned comfy. The way it rides is good, the tires are easy to balance on, and it’s not so tall that I feel like I’m out of control if I feel a bit off-balance.
There’s a great route called the Greenline just down from where we live, and it’s pretty much perfect for riding and walking, but it’s not like our neighborhood is terrible for it, so I don’t have to wait for Forrest if I want to go riding (until my car gets fixed up, I’m still going to be a bum).
So aside from Sophie being an utter buttnugget this morning, things went okay. :D