This is surely a first... the snow got lost.

Now, just to be clear, I am perfectly fine with this.  I do not miss adjusting my life for weather one single bit.  We've had maybe an inch of snow so far this year.  It's cooling down now, but for my region, it's been downright balmy. 

Of course, all of this is supposed to change starting tomorrow night... when lake effect snow is scheduled to rear it's ugly hydra head.  Did I mention that I was fine without all of this?  For the first time, I've learned that mud is perfect for the holidays.  No need for the white stuff. 

Generally lake effect snow is found where cold air (thanks Canada!) is forced over warm, open water.  (Once Lake Erie freezes, the threat of lake effect snow is pretty much gone, but we still get our collective asses kicked.)  In addition to the Great Lakes region, there are a few other places like the Great Salt Lake, Japan, Scandinavia, and Korea, but it is limited as to where it occurs.  As they say, it's location, location, location.   Which totally make me wonder why my Sonata (Korean) is only sold with one standard wiper blade, which is a wimpy summer blade.  Look, Korea, I'm ON to you... I KNOW you get the same stuff we do, so what gives?!?!  And aftermarket winter blades don't fit properly.  So really, why are you holding out in the wiper blade department?

I might need to keep this in mind.  If I have a possible move in my future, this is a useful piece of information.  Although thundersnow is uber cool, I am rather sure I could live without that, too.

You've got such a pretty smile (revisited)*

It's a shame the things you hide behind it... [Jude]


The girl sat alone at the table; close enough that her elbows gained stability from the thick glass top yet far enough to keep her legs free from inadvertently kicking the base of it. Head tilted forward, hands clamped over her ears, the tears flowed in hot saline trails, ultimately coming to rest in asymmetrical pools of moist, shimmering light on the surface below. In that moment, there was less fear, more disbelief. Either way she knew this was all her doing. Hers were the only shoulders this surreal burden would come to rest upon.

When the reason for this morphing new reality became clear, she knew she was the only one to blame. Recollection reminded that she was always one to feel alot and often rather intensely. Occasionally that build up required an outlet of sorts and resulted in conversations with others that would, with a little luck, temporarily ease her internal conflict, if even for a moment. But the day eventually came when she simply couldn't do it any longer - this sharing of herself, admitting her deepest, most fragile feelings - this sense of burdening others. A vow was made: no more.

From that moment on she'd kept it all in. Until now.

When she sat down to balance her checkbook, as always, she found her mind wandering. It wasn't painful, really; just a peculiar, slithery sensation that caused her to brush absently at her ear. When the slight movement caught her eye she could not quite make sense of what she was actually seeing. Letters. Everywhere. Piling and tumbling as if the typeset tray from an old printing press had capsized; on the table, her lap, the floor...


Immediate shock gave way to curiosity and she saw it wasn't just letters; there were words, followed by sentences. She knew them. Intimately. These were the words she vowed to hold in endlessly. With that thought the literary flood gates opened and the words stacked high, partially occluding her view. Windows cracked, doors bulged and she had no idea how or when this would end. Her hands went instinctively to her ears to stop this uninvited deluge but that only rerouted them through her nose.

Her head shook side to side in denial with that realization but the motion only caused the words to slip in her tears and collide with one another with soft thuds and audible crunches. Now she knew why she never balanced her checkbook.

~

And this is what I wrote here on September 1, 2005.  Creativity has been staunched of late, so I figured a repost would be acceptable. 

I've contemplated getting rid of this blog

We probably all have at some point along the way; some did, some didn't. 

Having lived a very private sort of life, I always felt safe here.  But with one thing linking to the next, I hate the feeling of possible exposure.  I have two friends from BlogLand that are on my Facebook account, but I don't ever worry about them linking to this place.  It's a given.  But there is a part of me that has this horrible fear that if I comment on a blog post of a friend that is not aware of this blog and forget to make it 'anonymous', my cover is blown, so to speak.  I've got alot in here.  More than I want the majority of people knowing.

Moslty though, I want to delete it because it reminds me of who I was.  Funny.  That's the same reason I've chosen to keep it thus far.

Big Sugar "If Santa Don't Bring You No Funk"

Not your typical Christmas carol... by far. Just listen. ;)

Happy Holidays

For whichever ones you celebrate.  I'm just looking forward to sleep.  Back in a few days.

Even better than waiting for Godot...

I'm waiting for my sedative to kick in.  This individual needs sleep.

But before sleep comes, I have to say something I'm pretty sure I never thought I'd say.  I wish I could exercise now.  No need to adjust your monitors, you read correctly.  And technically I don't mean 'now' (remember the sleep thing) but tomorrow would be nice.  But it's not going to happen.

History lesson for those that may not recall.  A handful of years back I lost 100 pounds.  Yes, and I'm still fat.  But anyway.  After my arthroscopic knee surgery five+ years ago, I had to be completely non-weight bearing for six+ weeks.  I'm here to tell you, no matter how little you eat, if you are sedentary (isn't that a type of *camel?) you are going to gain weight.  So I added about 30# back.  It has been an up and down battle - mainly due to my health and limitations that have come about because of it.  By all rights, I am due for a total knee replacement, which my chicken-shit self is not ready to do.  Really limits treadmill time, bike time and the elliptical will cause intense pain in 8 seconds flat.  But I learned to deal with that doing alot of strength training.  Let me tell you, I had some hard abs - unfortunately they were cleverly protected by a layer of fat, but still... I was rockin' the muscle tone!

Just over a year ago I was diagnosed with Lithium toxicity for the first time and was dealing with Dr. Sadist (the Demon Psychiatrist of Seville) trying to mentally undo me.  Who, by the way, is leaving this month.  Seven months later, another bout of LT, but worse.  A month after that, I was in the hospital with that damned adverse drug reaction... to the 'replacement' drug.  During the Lithium toxicity era, I was just sick and didn't know why as each time it presented itself differently.  Going to the gym was a chore and made me feel worse.  Six months ago when the Seroquel tried to kill me, well, I'm sure I've mentioned that my life hasn't been the same since.  Again tonight my heart decided to take on a new beat for about 15-20 seconds (Lady Gaga, I think...) and I could barely breathe.  Of course no one can find the problem.  We have to consider permanent damage from either the Lithium or the Seroquel although I'd bet on the Seroquel as I had NO cardiac symptoms until that little bitch entered my system.

Here's the thing.  I've been aching to incorporate some more physical activity, which I did today, and got my heart rate up slowly, but surely, in fairly short spurts.  Intentionally.  Then it held a coup and did that on it's own while I was sitting there minding my own business.  

I can't wait another six months to be able to exercise!  Right now I'm about 19# above what I was when I lost the weight.  I want to be able to strength train and feel strong again.  I never thought I'd say that, but I truly miss being able to exercise... even if it's just dancing around like a fool!

Such a simple thing, that so many take for granted, or even try to find ways out of, but I am trying to find a way to get back to it.  I'm just afraid.  Since no one knows the real deal with my lingering symptoms, no one can say for sure if it's safe or not.  One thing is for sure, I don't like when my heart goes off on a tangent and the only thing I can do is sit there and wonder if it's going to stop, or explode, or whatever.  Not cool.

So I've actually been thanking my body daily for persevering through such a trying time and hopefully we can reach an accord some time in the near future.  This inactivity is not to my liking.  At all.  And it still surprises me to see that I've put that into words.

I wanna get my chunky-monkey butt back in gear!  =)

*I'm well aware that 'sedentary' isn't a camel but for some reason that just flew into my head.

Looking back.

First, let me just say that my previous post was my 500th post.  Interesting.

Anyway.  I woke up this morning to some rough news on the radio.  Local stuff.  Sort of local anyway - almost an hour away in a very rural area.  Some people say you can lose yourself in the city and that is one reason there will always be some sort of appeal for me.  The downside ~ all those damn people.  But you really can't lose yourself in a town of, say, 1000, now, can you?  I do like the anonymity a city offers.  I've recently come to terms and accepted the fact that I've lived the majority of my life as if I were in the Witness Protection Program.  Moving frequently, rarely getting close to anyone, avoiding connections and making it a point to maintain privacy.  There was a reason, but the reason is gone now.  Part of it was due to hiding/running/staying elusive out of maintaining safety from a family member (basically being on the run), but some of it is because of what I'm referring to below.  Still, it is most likely how I will continue on; it is simply how I learned to be.

So.  I started thinking about something.  I'm not sure if I've talked about this before, but it just seemed to settle on me this morning and I have to speak.  When I was small, we lived in a very small coal-mining town.  The houses were basically depression era houses that were meant to support the miners and their families.  The little town was booming (before I was even born) but as the mining industry faded, so did the town.  The homes that were there, rented, were very basic.  It was like the property owners were slumlords before that became a common term.  The houses were two floors, some with an enclosed porch, and covered in drab, grainy shingles.  The windows were the old wood/single pane wavy glass that would literally accumulate 1/4" of ice on the inside in the winter.  The doors were such an ill fit that during the cold winters, we'd use a butter knife to stuff strips of rags to fill the gaps or you would feel the cold air blowing in.  Every time someone had to go out, you had to repeat the entire process. 

Part of the issue there is that about 20% of the houses did not have indoor toilets or showers.  If they did, it was due to a 'remodel' done by the person living there, not the owner.  The house my mother and I lived in for a couple of years had a regular bathroom but my grandmother's house, until she left in 1992, had no indoor bathroom or shower.  There was an outhouse and the shower was in the cellar.  Not a basement, a cellar.  The access was from outside only.  The floor was a crude cement slab with dirt walls.  Half of it contained the canning my grandparents did and the other half had a shower head, bar of soap, bottle of shampoo and a hook for your clothes, all partially sectioned off with an ugly yellow gold tarp so as not to invoke a mudslide under the house.  It was underground.  It was cold.  There were spiders.  (Nuff said there..) 

The big thing was always having a 'lookout'.  Someone would pound on the door after they heard the water shut off so you could slip out, hopefully unnoticed, before another car came up the street.  Same way with the outhouse.  You'd peer through an opening in the boards to make sure no one was coming.  See, most people still had their old outhouses, never bothering to knock them down, so it was a common thing to see.  It was not so common to have them in use.  You never wanted to be seen going there or returning.  In the winter, there was an actual chamber pot kept in a bedroom upstairs.  So even as late as 1992, in the morning, someone had to 'sneak' out and empty it in the outhouse and hopefully return before anyone saw you.  To this day I despise the scent of Pine-sol. 

We didn't have company.  How do you explain the lack of indoor plumbing?  The secrecy; shame.  Now, we always had plenty of food and my grandfather bought a new car every two years.  It wasn't that we were impoverished.  It was that they were fine living in the way they had for many years and never found reason to update things.  Living with them for many years, their ways became my ways.

So here I sit, at the age of 41, wondering why I have such a hard time spending money on a new winter coat.  The one I've got I bought on clearance probably 11 years ago.  The zipper broke about three or four years ago so it unzips from the bottom up, yet I can't find it in me to buy a new one.  Ok, in my defense, it IS an Eddie Bauer coat and can still probably kick almost any other coats ass.  Well, if coats had asses.  I do not own the things that most people own.  I have an mp3 player that was given to me.... just a little thing.  I've wanted to buy an iPod Touch, and now I've decided I'd prefer a tablet instead.  But let's think for a minute on how hard that is going to be for me to do.  I grew up patching doors and using a chamber pot; had spiders in my underground shower.  Some things you can't change.  I was brought up with the 'make do' mind set.

No mistake, I spend money.  But I tend to spend it on experiences, as I would call it.  Music, concerts, hockey games, travel.  Perhaps because I find more comfort in doing things as opposed to having things.  There is still some sort of guilt associated with having.  Experiences are things no one can take away from you.  Things can be lost, taken, broken.  But what you experience is with you forever.

Looking back,  I suppose that can go both ways, really. 

This is going to make me sound like a groupie. I'd deny it but I think I'd better get a clear definition of the term first...

group·ie (grp)
n. Slang


1. A fan, especially a young woman, who follows a rock group around on tours.


2. An enthusiastic supporter or follower: a ballet groupie; a fashion groupie.
 
groupie [ˈgruːpɪ]
n


(Music / Pop Music) Slang an ardent fan of a celebrity, esp a pop star: originally, often a girl who followed the members of a pop group on tour in order to have sexual relations with them.


Alright.  Now that that's out of the way...  I suppose I am a groupie.  But not in the sense that immediately comes to mind.  I would say I fit in the first section (under slang), option 2.  Number one, I'm 41.  Unless I'm chasing Barry Manilow, I'm not 'young'.  As far as sexual relations... uh, I think I'm beyond getting it on in a tour bus.  I'd at least like a hotel room... ;)  Haha. 

So I contacted someone from The Trews that handles publicity just offering to put up flyers/posters around the Cleveland area.  I fell head over heels for this band 8 years ago and now that I've seen them live twice (third time is being planned...) my appreciation has increased exponentially.  I don't want anything from them, I'm not trying to make friends with them (or their managers, etc.) or get tickets or anything.  I just want other people to have the chance to enjoy a great band.  And I would like for them to know that others, outside of Canada, are connecting with their sound.  I approached and met each of them briefly at that first show, thanked them and got a pic ~ I'm happy.  No need to tattoo their faces on me or braid each others' hair.

Anyway, I got a response in less than a day and one of their managers, out of Toronto, I think, is thrilled that I'm offering to help.  I already mentioned that I was ready to buy my ticket, so they know I'm not looking for anything.  This is partially self-serving as I get to be involved in something that makes me happy, even if behind the scenes.  In a time in my life where I feel I have little direction, this gives me something positive to focus on.  I'm basically volunteering for them.  I'm cool with that.  I volunteer for an animal shelter already (almost 3 years!), and it's not  much different in the way that I'm doing something to help someone else with pretty much no recognition or thanks involved in the end. 

So call me a groupie ~ I've been getting that alot lately although I've not even told anyone about this little venture.  It's better than sitting around watching reality tv all night.  I'll probably just have some posters mailed to me and that will be it.  No one will know who I am from that point on and I couldn't care less.  Actually, I kind of like the anonymity of it.

The Trews Ishmael and Maggie Town Ballroom 11/25/11

This is a video from the show I went to... not MY video, but this was their first 'last' song. Before their two encores. Buffalo LOVES them some Trews! I went. Myself. Drove almost 3 hours to Buffalo and then 3 looong hours back. Finally got home at 2:55am but it was worth everything. I didn't have so much as one drink but left there floating ~ on a total high from the energy. It was a last minute choice but a perfect one. I may post another one, but this is a fun song. Sad, but fun... lyrics at the bottom. I had the time of my life, met some new people and now have an acquaintence that works for a local promoter and the Trews when they are in Buffalo. Which means I get more discount tix. And the bouncer was from Cleveland and as it turns out we have a very similar line of work (not the bouncer part, his other job, lol.) All that from asking where the bathroom was... So. Fuck these people that won't leave their comfort zones. I literally decided 30 minutes before I left that I was going and out the door I went... I walked around downtown Buffalo at night, nearly getting whacked by a trolley (no idea Buffalo had an above ground subway!) and looked at what I could see of the architecture in the dark. Anonymity can be comforting. I liked being someplace where no one knew me. With one peculiar exception. I had to pick up my ticket at the pre-show Meet & Greet, but I really just went to get my ticket. I'd just met them the week before and really, what did I have to say? So I'm standing there waiting for the guy to get my ticket and Jack, the bassist, walks past me, stops, and says, 'Hey, I know you...' I admitted it was from the Cleveland show and I think he was pretty pleased at himself for remembering. I thought it was a bit strange seeing how I didn't do or say anything very memorable. He must have a good memory. So stop listening to me and have a listen to the song. You'll hear his references to Buffalo near the end.


And I just found out they are coming back to Cleveland in 6 weeks. Heh.


I love my Canadians.



Ishmael and Maggie

Hello my name is Ishmael
Forget the one about the whale
I'll tell you of a broken-hearted sailor
Maggie took my loyalty,
I treated her like royalty
What starts out with such promise
ends in failure

Oh my love
I can't stand to be alone
But I been drinkin' too much
I better go home
And I think here
I'm better off alone
But I been thinking too much
I better go home

All hail the Queen of cruelty
She has duly been anointed
These final word "her majesty" had to say
"He who expects nothing never will be disappointed"
Nothing's what she left me so I guess i'm OK

Oh my love I can't stand to be alone
But I been drinkin' too much
I better go home
And I think here we all stand alone
But I been thinking too much
I better go home

Lie lie lie lie lie
Lie lie lie lie lie

A promise made to a tab unpaid
It's home I wade to my bed unmade
A fool to think that I could ever change her
A king upon my barstool throne
I vow to never drink alone
I only drink with friends or total strangers

We're all broken hearted here
We're all broken hearted here
We're all broken hearted here
We're all broken

Oh my love
I can't stand to be alone
But I been drinkin' too much
I better go home
And I think here we all stand alone
But I been thinking too much
I better go home
I better go home
I better go home
I better go home
I better go home
I better go home

So. Here we are. Me, you and The Trews.

And if you know where YOU are, then three cheers to you.  I tip my hat.

Me?  Yeah, I'm totally fucked here. 

Well, I suppose it's not like I've just landed in a huge pile of fuck and I'm up to my eyeballs in it, but there's surely enough to make me wonder just how many of the gods I pissed off.  I'm not going to get into anything here right now, but I just have this feeling that I'm going to explode.  Oddly, I also feel that doing so might be the thing I need the most, even with consideration to the consequences.

I would say the majority of what I'm feeling is normal.  Although, suspiciously not normal for someone who is bipolar and has been off meds for 6 1/2 months.  Unless you include the 7 days of toxic waste tabs that landed me in the hospital and hasn't seen me the same since.  But I'm not the maniac I thought I would be.  Although living in a constant state of fear might temper the maniacal tendencies.  Just a thought.  Most of what I'm feeling are just normal MOODS.  Clarification: normal for ME.  You still might want to hide small children or at the very least cover their eyes.

I force myself to do things that I want to do.  There's new stuff going on that I can talk about in a few days, even; just not now.  I am depressed and frustrated, but in my situation, I think that is to be expected.  So I force myself to do things and make myself find something to be happy about because when I'm not feeling like I hate the world, I fell I damn well deserve it!  Ha.  This usually boils down to hockey or music. 

Sunday I went, by myself (thank you inconsiderate, lame, lazy, friends of mine...) to a concert at a small venue where I've never been.  I finally saw The Trews.  After eight years of enjoying their music immensely, my Canadian boys dropped down to my neck of the woods.  And it was free, no less.  Few people here know of The Trews.  You know, typical lazy Americans that think they know everything but really don't because they can't be bothered... anyway.  They are HUGE in Canada, but here, it was like a private concert because so few people attended.  I was maybe 15 feet from the stage.  In the end, I got to meet and talk briefly with them, got a pic with each of them and genuinely thanked them for coming to the states.  (They just were in the UK and Australia, too.)  There's no way they could know how much I needed this and I wasn't going to risk soundling like a psych-unit flight risk by telling them.  I knew they were in a hurry but they were really so gracious.  I literally used the words "I'm so happy!" during a call I made when I left the venue.  THAT should tell you something.  Me.  I used those words. 

Friday I have the option to go to a hockey game or drive almost three hours to Buffalo (myself) catch a Trews show, and drive right back.  I am undecided.  The main thing here is that I know the weather is going to cooperate, which is rare for anywhere between Cleveland and Buffalo at the ass-end of November.  We'll see.  Stressful times right around the corner, so I need to reach out for something to keep me grounded.

I will try to post a little video I took at the concert Sunday.  I think they sound amazing.  It isn't working... let me try in a new post... nope, still not cooperating.  So I just stole another video from You Tube and it's in the post right before this one.

So.  We'll see what I decide to do come Friday.  There's something really great about doing something you've waited years to do.  The only part that really skeeves me out is that if you consider it your Bucket List (not a fan of the term...) and that encapsulates those things you want to do before you die... I kind of see it as pushing me one step closer to death.  I'd prefer to think of these things as 'the moments I look back on that make me appreciate actually living'.

The Trews - Hope & Ruin

So, six weeks into it and I'm already in a touchy situation

Lovely person that she is, my mother has passed on the 'find the problem' gene.  

In my new position, I am now being faced with the challenge of doing what's right.  Sounds easy, right?  Not so much.  I've already spoken to my new chemo pharmacist about how things need to be done and she has ignored it.  I don't know if it's because she really doesn't think it's a big deal, or because she didn't honestly know and didn't like a 'tech' telling her.  Hard to tell with her.

So I mentioned it to one of my favorite pharmacists, utterly unplanned and fairly unfiltered.  I just cited examples and her reactions and lack of actions.  We've got this HUGE inspection/survey coming up and if we don't pass, we can lose up to 60% of our funding for the entire hospital.  Survey or not, things need to be done properly and she is clearly not doing that.  Chemo isn't something you take lightly.

The pharmacist I talked with said he KNOWS our boss will not only hit the ceiling but go completely through it if/when he learns of this.  He offered to talk to our boss on my behalf but I politely declined.  I can face my boss.  But it will be more awkward than I'd like with my current chemo pharmacist because she will know, beyond any doubt that it came from me. 

I figure I'll give her a few more heavy-handed hints and if she doesn't get it, then I'll talk to our director.  Which I really don't want to do.  For more than just the obvious reasons.  But I have to because I cannot unknow what I already know.  And I know that things aren't being done properly.  There is a patient safety aspect here, not to mention unnecessary exposure for me.  Truth be told, I'm more concerned about the patients.  And I don't say that because it sounds good, it's just how I feel.  They are trusting us.  I have an obligation to do the best I can to keep them safe and if I let this go, I've failed them.

Why can't I go along the 'ignorance is bliss' line of reasoning?  But in this case, I have to be the one to say something as there is no one else that is aware on a first-hand, empirical witness sort of basis.  Sometimes I really hate being responsible and having a conscience.

**sigh** Damn.

The Clarks - Cigarette (live)

Just saying... I will be on a river cruise in Pittsburgh with these guys Friday night; less than 24 hours! Some people think that my fixation with music and willingness to travel and arrange my life around it is strange. I think it isn't any of their business. If it makes me happy, why should I apologize for it? Because I'm 41 and should be 'over' this? My bills are paid, the time is mine. Some people go out and put money into cigarettes and booze - I put mine here. It's all a question of what makes you tick.

What made me think Facebook was a good idea?

Granted, it has merits.  Keeping in touch with those that live far away is one.  Having info from all of my 'likes' come directly to me... another great feature.  Saves so much time and for someone that can be as forgetful as I am, it has served as a welcome reminder for events like sports events and concerts. 

But I am quickly becoming the bitch that doesn't accept friend requests.  No, let me rephrase that... I'm the bitch that doesn't accept (most) friend requests and doesn't feel the need to give you some fancy explanation as to why.  I am entirely too private and way too much of a control freak to want coworkers and people I went to high school with swinging by to watch the freak show.  Truly, in 99.2% of cases, I don't give two shits what your three year old just did in Facebookland.  And if you really felt the need to stay in touch with me, you'd have sent me a message with the request... not just 'BAM' ~ a friend request after not speaking for 20 years!  I can't fault people for not being able to keep track of me.  I move alot.  And I let people drift out of my life routinely; it's just what I know.  I do not maintain relationships well.  So for that, I cannot fault them, but for shits sake... you can't send a little message, no matter how corny it may sound?  Truth be told, I didn't like you that much back when I was nice so I'm pretty sure I won't feel too differently now.

Speaking of moving.  I think I will be moving within a year.  The new position I took at work (did I mention I took a job as a chemo pharmacy tech?) is a combination between a joke and a set up to fail.  We are basically waiting to be shut down based on lack of profit vs expenditure, not being encouraged to stay open because we perform a valuable service in the community.  It's like a pack of wolves with tongues lolling out to the side, waiting for the big financial FAIL.  Chemo is a costly service but even life and death situations, $ and profit come before people.  I don't know if I could go back into the main pharmacy without the toll being too great.  It is really bad there right now and the one shift I work down there every week is such a push/pull.  It's like being in an abusive relationship... it's not healthy yet I know what to do and I know my role.  When I'm down there, every single person looks to me to fix everything.  Guess I'm an enabler... but still, I do a kick ass job.  Just a double edged sword of sorts.

I think what I'm trying to say is that, without realizing it, I took this new job as a transitional position to get me out of my unhealthy relationship with my job as Chief Ass wiper in the main pharmacy.  Had I left directly, I'd have literally been guilt-ridden.  Meh, proof that I at least still have feelings of some sort.  I don't see this lasting long.  And I'm suprisingly ok with that since I've severed the main tie.

So this coming weekend I'm going to Pittsburgh to see The Clarks on their annual Gateway Clipper concert cruise!  I haven't seen them since I was 19 years old.  That's a damn long time my friend!  Taking a friend of mine for her birthday ~ she needs a quick getaway, too.  Of course this will start the tears (I've warned my friend) and all the crying about wanting to move back there.  No big deal though... for those of you that have followed throughout the years, you know this is a constant in my life.  Anyway, I'm totally THRILLED to be there, cruising the river at night with The Clarks playing.  There's always time for a breakdown later.  ;)

Health has been all over the board and we've made no real progress.  It's not getting worse in any way that we can pinpoint, which I consider progress, but after 4.5 months, I kind of wished that I'd be back to my norm ~ which obviously wasn't very normal, but in retrospect...

The next two months will be insanely busy so I'm hoping that I can get on here more now ~ I need this like I need a good book.  Or good music.  And I really miss checking in on everyone.  See, here's it's not creepy... on FB, that's creepy.  Anyway... I'm off to bed. 

My life would make so much more sense if I were Wile E. Coyote

Then anvils could fall on my head, trucks could exit tunnels at breakneck speeds assuring I'd be flattened on the grill, falls from the highest point would get nothing more than a raised eyebrow from me.  Then again, I'm not sure I would take too kindly to that sort of heat all the time.  But Wile E. and me, we must be kin somewhere along the line.

Four months ago I was preparing to go see a new practitioner.  Four months ago I had no idea that I would have my life turned ass over teakettle because of that appointment.  Four months ago, I was still bitter, confused and angry.  They're right, you know... sometimes when you look back, things weren't so bad.  At least I didn't have the fear.  Cinco de Mayo was the last time I was medicated (barring the seven day near-death drug extravaganza of which I speak) and damn if the strangest thing isn't happening.  I have more clarity now than I have since I was diagnosed over 9 years ago.  The unfortunate part about that is that I am fully aware that my fear is justified and I can't play it off as a phase that I'm in.  Guess sanity really might be a bit overrated.

Since the ADR (adverse drug reaction) my body has gone full out bat-shit crazy.  I cannot trust it to do what it's supposed to and it continually does things I don't want it to do.  Like my heart racing and skipping beats for hours on end.  It's worse at night so I fear going to sleep, yet, if I'm too tired, it triggers the same symptoms.  I have to do some formal paperwork with the drug company and the FDA which does not sound like a remotely good time.  But I will do it.  The fucking drug came damn near doing me in and I've yet to see if there is permanent damage.  You can bet I will file my reports.  This whole thing tires me physically, emotionally and mentally.  And yet, I have clarity.  Oh goody.  So now I'm fully aware of all of this without the luxury of a phase to manipulate it.

Work is, well, I don't know.  I've changed it up a bit and although I work less, and I'm out of the fray, something isn't right.  I'm not sure if it's the uncertainty associated with it or if I'm picking up on something totally different.  I tend to get those work vibes well in advance.  We'll see.  I'll skip through blogland tomorrow, just wanted to complain for a moment, really.  I mean, why lie, right?  Even the meds for the symptoms and conditions (brought on by the ADR) aren't really helping.  I'm getting weary of plodding along like things are fine when they are far from it.  I don't trust my heart to know what to do.  I don't trust my throat to not swell shut.  But I am luckier than some that have ADRs that don't make it long enough to bitch about it.  I haven't overlooked that.  Again with the clarity; kind of annoying.

Maybe I'll go buy some birdseed from ACME... they must sell it on eBay somewhere.

I'll get back to the other stuff later...

Just something I have to get off my chest then I'll be back within a week.  Could be a day - could be six, who knows.  And I'll trot around Blogland then.  Anyway.

There was something in my life that coincided with '9/11'.  Technically, it was a few days prior.  I don't recall the exact date but, well, I'm obviously going to remember it as 'the promise I made to myself just days before 9/11'. 

So it has been 10 years since I made this promise.  I really don't know if it was wise or not, but done is done.  Sometimes I maintain it out of willpower, other times, out of sheer stubbornness.  Never, EVER let it be said that I am anything less than tenacious.  Ok, or stubborn.  It really is such a close call there.

Experiencing what I have in the past year makes me rethink this promise.  And I suppose I should say it was less a promise than an angry, hate filled, confused, pain laden declaration made by an undiagnosed/unmedicated bipolar individual...me.  But, it sounded good at the time and I stuck with it. 

The issue now is that it is habit.  Ten years of living this makes it a no-brainer, so in order to change it, I will have to rewire all my circuitry.  Fuckity fuck fuck fuck!  And I don't know if is worth it.  Or if I can do it.  Or if I WANT to change it.  I think I do, but I have convinced myself so thoroughly that the past 10 years is the way to go about things.

Madness:  Membership has it's privileges.  No wait... that was MasterCard. 

The politics of it all

Everywhere you look, politics have taken over.  Not the sort you vote on, the sort that most people deny.  Well, my workplace is no exception.

My brain suffered a hefty blow when I found myself in the midst of a shitstorm.  In short, I think someone either has something on my boss or my boss thinks someone has something on him based on his decision making processes lately.  I won't go into it here.  It's just stupid.  Point is that everything has been turned ass over teakettle.

It would appear that my boss is so hell bent on keeping me in his department that he strongly implied negative behavior on my part to someone I interveiwed with... which is still in my department!  Well.  What has happened, in short, is immoral, unethical, and if I'd have to guess, illegal.  The situation as a whole, not just the part regarding me. 

Funny, he fabricated information to make me look bad just to keep me there (yes, this was confirmed by a 'higher up') and now, the only thing I want to do is get as far away as I possibly can.  The place sickens me.  And HR/administration has aided my boss through all of this, so there is no recourse.

Fuckers.

The Sugarcubes - Cold Sweat

I've been in love with this song ~ for years. It's what I listen to (on '11', so to speak) when I'm angry and it just isn't appropriate to sit and scream. This is great for really belting out some serious emotion. That being said, I listen to it when I'm in a good mood too, it just suits the engry/emotional times better. If I'm getting over bronchitis and I really force it out, I sound a little like her too in the squeakier parts...lol. But probably not nearly as much as I think... haha.
Love this.

Why was I not born a turtle? Or maybe Ozzy.

I mean, both just sort of go along their merry way.  My way is not exactly merry.  I mean, it's not the road to Baghdad, but it's not merry.

Last night the whole thyroid issue decided to get out of control.  After contemplating driving to the hospital, I put this huge ice pack under me and apparently it both cooled me down and my heart regulated enough to pass out from exhaustion.  Three solid hours of a labored, racing heart is enough to drain anyone.  But a few hours later my Gram woke me - I had to take her to the hospital, she said she thought she was dying.  She's at home now but it turns out that her cervical degenerative disc disease has progressed to the point that she may need to start on more effective pain meds when it acts up.  Her pain was so great that she was dizzy to the point where she couldn't get out of bed.  I think, in addition to her pain, she had the fear that she may have been a stroke, like her brother that we just visited.  A very understandable fear. 

During her CT scan, they happened to find a nodule on her thyroid.  Ha... go fuckin' figure.  As for me, I have one set of tests coming up Friday and the next set coming up Monday.  I hope, which really isn't even a good enough word, considering what I've been going through, but I really hope they can narrow down the type of thryoid issue so I can get this under control.  A hormone... a simple hormone is taking over my heart.  My heart itself is structurally sound, but this lovely little hormone is staging a coup!  Seriously, that's just fucking wrong.  And there is not one single thing I can do about it until all results are back.

It is not lost on me, however, that had I chosen to go to the hospital last night, I would not have been here when my gram woke up and needed help.  So at least I was here for her.  Besides, there's nothing more they could have done for me other than give me something to slow my heart rate and then watch so it didn't slow too much considering this comes and goes when it wants.  Today I still have residual chest pain and palpitations along with some swallowing difficulty.  I'm ready to nuke this little fucker.  I don't want meds to try to control it and keep it from being over active.  That's like building a dam (of risky, side effect laden pills) and hoping it holds.  I want to kill it with radioactive iodine and then take meds to mimic the active hormone.  That is so much easier to control.  If I have to take the meds until I can get that done, if, in fact, that is the route to be taken, I'll do it.  But just temporarily. 

See, if I were a turtle, I'd either be soup or roadkill.  If I were Ozzy, well, he is impervious to just about everything. 

I'm applying for a part time position as a Chemo pharmacy tech in the same hospital.  It is purportedly already spoken for but it's up for bid and I'm trying.  I can't say it's something that I'm just aching to do, but I can say that if I don't get out of working in my own department there will be a trail of bodies.  I will bring in less money and pay more for insurance, but given the fact that my recent $6000 hospital stay (of less than 40 hours!) cost me under $150 in the end, the offset of paying more vs my quirky need for all sorts of physicians will be worth it.  We'll see. 

Turtles don't have these issues.  Neither does Ozzy.  I'm completely assuming, of course.

Oh, and get this... I may have mentioned that my Ferretin level was dangerously low and even with supplements 2-3 times a day for months on end, it barely budged.  So, for two or three months I stopped taking them (along with anything that was not pivotal to survival - not liking meds since the drug reaction).  Don't you know it that my ferretin has DOUBLED!  WTF?!  I totally deserve my own show on the Discovery Health Channel.

I cannot do it. I mean, I totally want to just give in, but I can't.

Cry, that is.  Or more succinctly... sob.

But if I do, then I won't be able to swallow or breathe without a peculiar sort of effort.  And my heart will gallop and miss beats for hours on end.  But that is because of the health stuff I wrote about. 

Today was a rough day for me.  I truly just want to have a bit of a sobfest instead of holding it in and be done with it, but I can't.  I can't risk it.  I went back to visit family today and realized that my great uncle has apparently had another stroke/TIA or is having complications from the one he had about a year and a half ago.  His speech is altered.  He can't find nor form the words.  He is losing mobility rapidly and no one in his family is really there at all times.  His wife passed away about 6 months ago and although one of his kids (and his children) stop in twice a day, he is alone.  Given the eastern European tendency toward stubbornness and drama, this portion of the family has literally exploded.  I worry that he should not be left alone. 

This is my grandmother's only living brother (she has a sister, but pretty much hates her) and it is killing her to see him alone and sick.  I know what she is thinking.  She will want to move back there so she can be close so we could visit him at least twice a week.  I know her.  I know what she is thinking.  I know.  He means enough to her that she would gather every bit of courage and ask me to move back there with her.  Just to be near.  She is 90.  How do I tell her 'no' if this is what she wants?  Theoretically (although I test this all too often), her time here is much more limited than mine.  It may be wrong to think this way, but I have in the past, and would continue, to give up my own life for her happiness.

Face it folks, I'm not doing a whole fuck of alot with my life right now anyway other than ending up sick.  My job is sucking the life out of me and I've pushed away the majority of friends and acquaintances.  My grandmother (and grandfather, who has since passed) is one of the reasons I am probably even alive today.  Because of that, I can never turn my back on her.  My behavior toward her has been awful lately, partially the bipolar, partially due to being sicker than I thought, and partially b/c she has gotten to the stage of life where it's like raising a child.  I have never raised a child and this is terribly hard for me to take the reins on everything.  Part of me resents her for putting me in that position.  For being 90.  And then I get angry and it shows.  Then I see the look on her face and just wish a hole would open up in the ground and suck me right down.  But I'm the only one really keeping me here.  Me and some guilt the size of the western hemisphere if I'd leave if/when she needed me.

I know that if I asked her tomorrow if she wanted to move closer that she would have an answer for me within a few days.  And I think the answer would be 'yes'.  And how could I deny her the perceived happiness of being near her brother in what she knows may be his final months.  Or hers, for that matter.  Well, anyone's really, but you get the point.  Unfortunately his immediate family has exploded with hostility and he said/she said insanity and they were once one of the closest knit families you could ever hope to find.  It is nothing I would want to get mixed up in.

But she is my grandmother.  And this is her brother.  And I will listen to her; take my lead from her.  Prompt a discussion if necessary.  I'm still in shock over seeing him today.  He was a hard working farmer his entire life.  He raised several children that he didn't father (it was her second marriage) during a time when that was almost unheard of.  She raised eyebrows being partially of native American descent.  One of their children was born with Down Syndrome and until his wife got sick a couple of years ago, lived with them.  When my uncle's wife passed, the nursing home didn't tell him for a week.  She was kept in cold storage for a week.  I don't know details, but to think that may happen to your most beloved is something I think would break even the toughest of us.  His own family is falling apart, most of his kids never talk to him.  I know he is difficult and angry and loud, but I think he is also hurting and sick and alone.  Although in truth, some of that was self-inflicted by his own behavior. 

His birthday was two days before mine and he just turned 83.  Something is going on with him and he needs help and somehow, he either isn't getting it or he isn't telling the truth about it.  Either way, I am not so sure he should be living alone.  No, I know he shouldn't be.  I was not prepared to witness this today; none of us were.  I cannot be that rescuer, but if my gram wants to be near him, I can start looking for a job in the vicinity.

If I could cry and just release the utter shock of the day's events, perhaps I would feel better.  But I can't even do that.  Well, at least I'm not delusional - I know this is all very dysfunctional but in the end, if I can make her happy, IF this would be what she wants, I would do it.  Some people (occasionally myself included) have insinuated that in ways, I have, at the age of 41, given up my life and happiness for hers.  And they would be partially right.  The only part I argue is that I don't think I could have much happiness knowing I left her when she saved me.

Life can be tricky, folks.

Damnit Carrot!!! I can't comment on your blog ever!

I don't know why but I can't comment ever.  It won't accept anything I tell it - it just puts me in a loop!  Spiteful thing!

Rapid-fire here, I know...

But Blogger is going to have to stop asking me to 'choose an identity' when I comment.  Eventually I'm going to make up a new one and just stick with it...

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

I think I'm screwed eight ways to nowhere.

If I do run away, I promise to keep in touch.  Probably even moreso.

Once I stop crying I'm sure I'll come out swinging and lunging like my ass is on fire.  But only when I'm done crying.  Too hard to see otherwise.

Big Wreck - Blown Wide Open

This song fits my life far too well on too many occassions.

Scrap that

I don't think I'm going to the doc Thursday.  I called my insurance company and he's only partially (about 50%) covered after a $500 deductible.  Fuck that.  I'm glad I called b/c she was telling me how he's approved for my insurance and part of the company I work for...

Yeah, they got one hell of a nasty message left on their voicemail today.  And b/c I thought I had this appt secured I declined the one where they could 'fit me in' in 5 weeks with another doc where I work.  Fuck. 

I think I'm just going to let it go until I can't take it anymore then I'll end up in the ER again and they will be forced to find an on-call Endocrinologist for me.  This may take months, years, who fucking knows, but really.  Really?  Does everything have to be such a struggle?

And I thought I'd have an okay birthday weekend.  Wrong.  I'm hiding right back in my shell like all textbook Cancerians do.  This is the second year in a row that I will not be celebrating anything for my birthday.  I can't do it.  All I want to do is cry and scream and throw things.  I've really accomplished two of those fully and one partially.  Oh, and just be left alone.  I don't feel like there is anything to celebrate.  It's like life itself is telling me to give it up.

It was bad enough knowing something is wrong and having to be patient for an appointment, then getting one, then having it taken away from you.  Still feeling sick, physically, and never knowing when it's going to get bad.  So I give up.  I'm not one of those people that can just put a smile on their face and pretend things are ok.  I mean, I do it all the time at work, but not in this situation.  How can I smile and pretend my birthday is worth anything when I'm literally fighting everything.  I'm fighting for my health and nothing is working; it's like a subtle hint telling me that it isn't worth anything.  That I'm not.

I give up.  You win.  After a full year, you have finally bested me.  Now please move on so I can just fully separate myself emotionally.  Really.  All this being upset and crying is only making my symptoms worse.  You've done enough, there's nothing left to see... move along.

Not that I'm complaining, but.... (you know what's coming, don't you?)

I'll tell you about my little trip to Canada and my wonderful concerts and maybe share a pic or five later, but I need to just vent.

So I mentioned how my health in regard to medications has just taken a nose dive, right?  The ER visits, the hospitalization, the fear of death.  Ok.  So by this time, the medication should by all means be out of my system unless I lack a particular cytochrome pathway that would prevent it from leaving my system.  Although the idea of ME having that issue is always a possibility given my track record, it is very highly unlikely.  Even for me.

So I still am having heart palpitations and upon having a monitor strapped to me for 24 hours, we've learned that my heart is skipping beats.  Not a huge deal, really.  Just that it should have gone away by now.  And for the record, I'm so much better ~ it's just that I've got these odd symptoms that aren't really going away and I'm not so sure I can pin it all on anxiety (I'm really NOT a panic-attack sort of person) especially since I'm on low dose Klonopin around the clock. 

My body still tingles, I have this weird startle reflex linked to sound (if I see someone about to slam a car door, I should expect it and not be startled by the sound, yet it sends a physical jolt through my entire body) and I still have a hard time swallowing.  And then it hit me...

Nine years on lithium, including two bouts of lithium toxicity in the past 9 months or so, one bout of severe medication intolerance from the Topamax (for a sleep disorder) and then this last adverse reaction that landed my chunky monkey butt in the hospital.  Hmmm... all of those meds are known to be hard on the thyroid, especially lithium.  And my mother has Grave's Disease, which was marked by hyperthyroidism.  (You see it coming, don't you?)  So I asked my regular doc to run some basic thyroid tests on me... and guess who is now hyperthyroid?  Ding!  Ding!  Ding!  Yep... me!  So the overactive thyroid is like having adrenaline running through your system at all times, which does explain the odd startle reflex.  And if my thyroid is enlarged, it explains the feeling like something is stuck in my throat.  And some other continued abnormalities.

In December my thyroid test was normal which leads me to believe this second bout of lithium tox did me in and this last med may have sealed the deal.  I don't know if it is limited to my thyroid or an entire adrenal malfunction.  I managed to get an appt with an endocrinologist next Thursday.  He can run more appropriate labs and tell me if this is reversible, if it is a simple thyroiditis or actually Grave's Disease, which is auto immune.  And how we fix it.  And if my heart will go back to normal then since what I'm experiencing is all potentially associated.

When I was hospitalized, not one physician ordered a thyroid test, even though I have a family history and was repeatedly telling them that I felt like my body was vibrating and that I had difficulty swallowing.  Of course, I think they were focusing more on keeping my heart working and keeping my blood pressure down, so given the choice, I support their decision to focus on that!  Still - that really should have been tested.  Oh well, water under the bridge.

So one more thing for me to face.  I mean, it is what it is.  No use griping about it.  I just wanted to get this out of my system so that I can come to terms with the fact that what was supposed to cure me, is taking me apart piece by piece.  The irony of it all is that I work in pharmacy.  I can't even stand to be around all these drugs anymore.  Truly.  Other than the one week of this last med that had me hospitalized, I've been off all meds for bipolar since 5.5.11. Of course I'm thrilled to not feel like I'm on death's doorstep anymore.  Maybe still on the property, but surely not the doorstep.  ;)  It will be tended to, just like everything else.  I'm reminded, by working in the hospital, that I'm more fortunate than many and I am thankful for that.  I suppose I'm just weary.  I just want to feel like my old crappy self again.  After all this, in hindsight it wasn't so bad ~ in comparison.

Life is funny that way, sometimes.

Thornley - All Fall Down

And I shall be seeing these boys in Canada on Saturday!

Boy, things are really getting stirred up

Not good, not bad, just a swirl of everything and all I can really do is ride the wave.  When things start to change all around me, down to those really weird coincidences, I know something is up.  And something is definitely up. 

On the bright side, I'm still among the living.  Not back to where I want to be, but not afraid that I'm in the process of dying either.  I swear - I will always make sure I dress in a manner when I go to sleep that would not be embarrassing should an EMS squad have to retrieve me and take me to a hospital.  Oh yes, this does run through your mind even when you're on the verge of losing consciousness.

Laptop issues (only a month old) so I may be out of the loop for a bit - not that anyone would notice.  Trying to get back into the swing of things though.

Happy summer.

And the beat goes on

I've given myself time to reflect on the situation and offered distance so that I can write about this without getting worked up.  Still, it will remain fairly brief and to the point so as not to incite any internal riots.

The issue with the medication got worse.  I was in the ER three times and had a two day hospital stay.  Let's just say that the drug took over.  While sleeping, my heartrate was a low 47 (normal for me) and within about 5 seconds it hit 130 beats per minute.  That is almost triple the rate instantly.  Yeah.  We're still working on it, I'm living in a mild cloud of sedation to stay calm because this triggered anxiety I didn't know I had and compouned everything.  Tuesday I go back to the cardiologist to see if I get to wear a heart monitor for 48 hours.  If my heart is ok, then good.  If not, they have to do a cardioversion (see last post).  To be clear, my heart itself is perfectly strong and healthy, albeit a bit weary at the moment.  The drug just hijacked it and we are hoping it left no effects to be undone by modern medicine.  It was not a good week.

But I did learn something.  I have this new clarity on my role in life and how I fit in.  I suppose that happens when you are sure you are on your way out.  More on that later but I think that is a positive thing.

Unfortunately... last night we got a call that my cousin Nicole in California (not the whacked out one, but her sis) just had her hip replacement (she's 41!) and although the surgery went well, she had a reaction to the anesthetic which put her into congestive heart failure and caused aspiration pneumonia! It is still touch and go. I'm assuming since her heart (and the rest of her) was fine prior to the procedure that this can be reversed.  I'm really hoping, anyway.

Late this morning, we got a call that my cousin Carol Lee (in Pennsylvania) is in the hospital. She's been on some med for nerve pain for years and they just increased her dose... later in the day someone found her collapsed on the floor. She is in the hospital and is partially paralyzed - they have no idea what is going on but they think it's from the med b/c every thing else is ok. This is the same part of the family where Veronica's (Carol's mom) son was believed to be murdered about 8 years ago, her other daughter died 2+ years ago and about 6 months ago her nephew was tasered and suffocated by the state police. Veronica and my gram are sisters. Now this. Ok, seriously? WTF is with this family? They don't know if Carol will be ok as the extent of the damage hasn't been fully determined.

Life is a funny thing and you'd better do with it what you want... now.

It's not as bad as it sounds.  I mean, yeah, it's bad, but I've really learned something and I think it was just what I needed to get myself unstuck.  Harsh lesson, eh?

Be well my friends.

The answer wasn't very hard to find after all!

And the answer was 'no'. 

The new drug has caused a cardiac arrhythmia that is not unlike tossing a pair of wet shoes in the dryer but goes on for hours at a time.  In addition, my blood pressure was 162/110, which is entirely too high for a person without a history of hypertension.  It does, however, explain why I felt like I was going to pass out.  The doc said the arrhythmia is a rare but serious side effect and pairing it with the elevated blood pressure is just bad news.  I shall not ingest any more of the offending drug.  She said that I will most likely cardiovert automatically (return to a normal sinus rhythm) in the absence of the drug.  Most likely?  Gah!  I won't worry about that for now.  I will just be glad that I had the sense to know when something was more wrong than it should have been.  And all this from taking the smallest dose available once daily for 7 days.  Well, I tried.  Now I know in a short amount of time that the risks do not outweigh the benefits in this case.

Just adding insult to injury, the price of this medication for just the first month as I worked my way to higher doses was just under $550. 

Rarely do I remove a post

But I did.  I'm sure it went unnoticed but it was too disjointed, even for me.  Still, I have to get something off my chest.

I got in an argument with my mother that really hit me out of nowhere.  Ok, shit happens, not like we don't fight.  This time was different in the way that it was definitely brought on by her.  She threw my bipolarity in my face.  Being honest, I'm sure that alot of times being around me is just a no-win situation.  I'm amazed anyone even talks to me considering that I must be really taxing to be around.  So after being in the ER with lithium toxicity for the second time and going without meds after stopping them immediatey, I don't know, I suppose it would seem that I'd be particularly moody or in some sort of phase.  We'd both said recently that it wasn't as bad as either of us thought.  Of course that is basing it solely on outward behavior, not this mess that I try to corral up in my head.  Truthfully, that could have been much worse, although I am often able to keep the chaos a secret so that it doesn't boil over onto everyone else.  I equate it with an animal not showing signs of an injury for self-preservation purposes.  So point is, she actually said some things that either she has felt for some time or was having a particularly bad day herself and our argument was magnified.  Either way, I believe she meant what she said...

Here's my real issue with it.  I understand, as I've said before, that being around me isn't for everyone.  I have a sticky push-pull kind of temperment and a mouth that shoots off far too easily, but not always.  I get why I drain people.  But let me say something, which is perhaps more to convince myself than anyone else... being bipolar isn't a choice.  It's fucked up chemicals in my brain, pure and simple.  Now.  What I choose to do about it is the important thing.  I sought help initially in 1989/1990 and went to various docs and therapists for years at a time.  Eventually I was properly (we're assuming) in early 2002 and I have been steadily medicated and under the care, once again, of various docs and therapists.  Because of the unexplained lithium toxicity again, I have to switch meds.  Understand, this is not my choice, unless you think that permanent kidney damage as well as seizures possibly leading to a coma really give you much room to choose.  As it is, kidney damage from these two episodes may not be apparent for a couple of years.  But it is what it is.  If I continue with lithium I am guaranteed of a nasty outcome.  Basing things on what I already experienced, I am opting out.  But where does that leave me?...

It leaves me facing something altogether new.  Due to drug intolerance and meds that I simply don't respond to, my new choices come with alot of risks.  I know what these risks are and I can only hope that they do not become reality.  Do you know what it's like to have to make a choice between being able to function normally (in the way of not causing harm to yourself or anyone else because of impulsive behavior) and truly playing Russian Roullette?  This new dug has just about a 20% chance of causing a particular syndrome that many people actually die from because in order to make it through, someone has to actually diagnose it properly and you've got a very small window in which to do that.  If not, it ends with permanent brain damage or death.  I've seen two cases in the hospital in the past year or so.  One minute, they had no complaints, next thing you know they are in a drug induced coma, on a ventilator in ICU.  It's ugly.  About 6 months ago I saw a patient that was thrashing around, trying to make words (or so it seemed), being pinned to the bed by the ICU staff so he didn't hurt himself.  His face was swollen and he was eventually placed in restraints while they placed him on cooling mats.  It scared the hell out of me so of course I had to see what he 'had'.  Well, his diagnosis was what I'm referring to... 

And what got him there was the use of the same drug that I've just started on.  Now.  If you think that doesn't scare the piss out of me then you obviously think I am superhuman.  Given the way I reacted to lithium out of more than 8 1/2 years on it without much of a problem, well, I had to stop or knowingly walk into the lion's den.  With this, I know the lion's den is there but I just hope I don't have to travel that path.  Have you ever had to choose whether to function now or literally risk your life by taking meds that are meant to help you?  If you have, then you know.  If not, I can assure you, it is something that no one should ever have to face.  There are many disease states and drugs that can put a person in a place where they have to choose; my situation is not special on any count.  If other, more benign drugs would have worked or if the drug intolerance wan't a factor, I wouldn't be in this situation.  Alot of people could say that.  But I am.  And like I said, it is what it is.

And after it all, she has it in her to make it seem a if being bipolar is a choice.  That everything I've just said here is of no consequence.  She didn't say much during the argument, not much at all.  I got up and left before I got to the point where I told her that if she wants someone to blame she should look in the mirror... she could be held as accountable as anyone for getting pregnant by someone with a strong line of mental illness in their family.  Of course she didn't really know that at the time so that wouldn't have been fair, just hurtful.  There is no blame but the aftermath is a real bitch.

So I take the meds.  And I worry.  Not just aboout what I mentioned but about other side effects that are rather grim as well.  I'm already in several risk groups but yet, if I don't try this, I risk putting a bullet in my head or someone else's.  When you look at it, I'm fucked either way.  Granted, there's alot I'm leaving out about the known side effects and my risk but some of it is just waiting to happen, and that is if I can tolerate this drug.  If I didn't want this to work, I never would have bothered to try it.  I hope it works well and that issues are few.  Truly, I do.  I'm not going into this set to fail, I'm going into this being informed and knowing what to watch for given the fact that the lithium toxicity slipped right past me.  If I don't want to be that patient in ICU, I have to know what to watch for.  Sure, it's scary.  But I'm making the choice with the hope that it works.  If, for some reason, I'm tolerating the med but it isn't helping after about 6 weeks, then I will stop takig it under the doc's supervision.  At that point I don't know what I'll do considering that just about every viable option will have been played out.  We'll see.  I just want to give this a fair chance.

Unfortunately, what was said, was said.  You can't retract the spoken word.  But how dare anyone even insinuate that what I am going through is by fucking choice.  If I didn't try, I could understand.  Part of our relationship died that day.  I could feel it.  But like I said, it is what it is.

Enter ginormous run-on sentence (sentance?) here

It is an 'e', right?  And I hate the word ginormous.  I mean really, pick one.  If something is enormous or gigantic, who give's a shit... we all get the point that it's really fucking big.  So what's with the pseudo contraction/combo of ginormous anyway?

Well.  Six days from now I see my new PhD/Nurse Practitioner who will attempt to medicate me.  Bring it on, sista.  If I get much more impulsive or mean or moody I will join a circus in Outer Mongolia as a blindfolded and highly caffeinated knife thrower.  And we all know I don't like circuses or harsh weather.  But that seems like the only place I'd fit in.  Although I really don't like to use the word 'never', I will never be taking lithium again given my last stint in the ER so we embark on this journey again sampling other tasty goodies that will either make me worse (not voting for that), do nothing, or help.  Oh fucking JOY. 

It would be nice to be able to make a decision right now.  My pc is croaking and I'm literally about to vomit because I can't commit to which model to buy.  Truly, my screen is going blank and I still can't commit.  Gotta love the Hypomania switch that has been flipped on.  Key Ryst!  I was toying with tattoo ideas about 2-3 months ago and had to delay it due to having to pay $1000 in car repairs.  See, medicated, I can make these prioritizing sorts of decisions.  Unmedicated and in a phase, you'd better take away all my credit cards because I'm about to have enough tattoos to legitimately blend with the aforementioned circus.  If I can't decide on one, why not several?  Well, money for one, duh. 

One thing I'm learning through all this.  Fuck you.  No really, I mean it.  Fuck you.  I'm sorry I'm a horrid individual right now but I'm not being that way on purpose.  Despite my best efforts, that is a by product of what is going on in my head.  Like I said, when my neurotransmitters have formed a mosh pit, we're all screwed and you know, you just aren't on the top of my list... I have to be on the top of my list.  I need to get on an even keel and through that, I will be nicer.  I am not intentionally evil and irrational.  Right now, those just happen to be two of my finer points.

So I will try to sleep.  Already swallowed the little blue pill (no, not Viagra, smart ass) with a Mike's and hope to get a bit of sleep.  Tomorrow may be the day I get a new computer and I've got to have enough strength to NOT have a breakdown over it. 

But in the mean time, let me share a photo.  I'm not sure how I missed this guy, but then again, yeah, I know how I missed him.  Basically I don't care nor do I pay attention.  He's a musician.  I listen.  My job is done.  Why do I care what they actually look like?  So he went under the radar.  Until today.  Yes... this is part of the obsessing that comes along with the hypomania, just to clarify.   What hooked me was the dark hair.  Pair it with the light eyes and I'm there.  I think I find this attractive because I've wished for YEARS that my hair was dark and I always wanted either darker or very light eyes.  Needless to say, I apparently find that attractive in someone else.  Maybe it's more 'striking'.  He does have tattoos of crows across his chest, which is a total bonus.  How I can also find the intelligent, nerdy type just as attractive is beyond me.  Guess I'm just really good at being bipolar, haha.  So... without further ado...

Meet DJ Ashba.  He's been under the radar for quite some time.  Could be a total douchebag for all I know but I didn't get past the hair/eyes combo.  I truly don't care if he is, either, because I'll forget about him in a week or two; that's what happens in my head.  Anyway, there's a link if you want to know something about who this random guy is.

And on that note, I'm off to bed.  Haha, a pun.. Note.  Talking about music.  Ha.  (Really, not intended.  If I'd intended to insert a pun I'd have tried to at least make it amusing.)  Must get up in the morning and continue emotionally dragging myself over the barbed wire.  Good times, good times.

I hate this template today.  *sigh*

Nirvana - Lithium

Truly, what better song could I pick for the post I just wrote?
~ I'm not gonna crack...

So, ok, so like, here's the thing...

I've come to realize I lead a peculiar life.  Strange circumstances and odd trivialities just gravitate toward me and I'm ok with that.  I have to be because that's just the way it is.

Over the past few weeks I noticed some strange changes in my health.  I said if it happened one more time, I'd get to the ER.  Well, it happened and as promised, I went to the Emergency Room.  After lots of testing we learned that I have lithium toxicity again.  Only it's significantly worse than last time so my symptoms were all different.  I've spent the past couple days trying to stay awake round the clock as sleeping caused a major issue.  Best guess, I was having seizures that woke me up, then I would immediately feel as if I were passing out.  Of course there is no way to know because I was sleeping.  Anyway.  I just stopped the lithium.  I will not take it again.  I had over 8 years where it was a positive force in my life but two bouts of lithium toxicity within ~7 months tells me that my body is having a problem clearing it.  Not sure what has changed but I won't risk my kidneys or death to try for a third time.

I left a message for Dr. Sadist (who never returned the call, by the way) and I'm sure he is just waiting for me to come back so he can 'put me in my place' again.  I hate to disappoint him, but I'm not going back, I just wanted it documented.  I will be setting up an appointment with a new doc this week but psych appoints are known to take many weeks to secure.  I'm on my own for now.  Although I'm detoxing from the lithium, the chemicals in my brain are seeking it in a frenzied state.  The toughest part will be work.  I have a malfunctioning brain-to-mouth filter on a good day... what is going to happen now?!  Sedatives, that's what.  Low dose Klonopin will keep me functioning.  And hopefully out of jail.

My body and drugs have a strange relationship.  In many cases they either don't work or I suffer severe adverse reactions.  Not necessarily drug allergies, but side effects so bad that it prevents me from taking them.  And I'm not a wimp, I can ride it out with the best of them, but in some cases it is detrimental to your well-being.  I am not looking forward to this journey.

Part of me ~ probably the detoxing/jonesing part of my brain that is entering the beginning stages of hypomania ~ wonders if I could try to be off meds altogether.  I suppose it may work, until there is an event that triggers me.  I think about this because it is facing my immediately.  I also think about this to avoid feeling the fear of what happens when I go to sleep.  I think about this to avoid thinking about how I have no doctor and I am flying solo.  And to push the thoughts out of my mind that remind me that this could have already damaged my kidneys, only I may not know for a couple of years.

But for now, I just want to get through these next few days as it is still rather rough physically.  Then I can take on this new world that has been thrust upon me.  I don't know why the lithium and my body no longer mesh, but I am grateful for the time it gave me.  If I don't stop taking it now, this could have serious, irreversible consequences.

Well fuck me running.  This is NOT what I wanted to deal with right now.

I've been absent. Pbbbbt.

So I've been planning a little sit-down time with Blogger and it just hasn't been happening.  Not to worry, I'll dump on you all here soon.  Er, I mean share.

But for today, I've got a question.  Does the company that manufactures my pads and tampons think I'm such as imbicile that I don't even know where to bleed... and that is why they put a pattern on the pad to guide me?  Seriously?  Do they know that once it's in place I cannot see it let alone aim?!

Whatever.  (And these are the things that take up space in my head.)

This is a test of the Emergency Broadcasting System. This is only a test. If this were real, someone might give a fuck.

So I miss almost two weeks and there are changes on Blogger.  Of course there are.  Are they good or are they just 'changes'?  Oh well, I'll check it out on a day when I care - which is not today.  Should anyone read this I'm goint to do an experiment ~ you tell me that you see.  I'll put a # symbol at the beginning of each paragraph and you tell me if you are seeing separate paragraphs.  K?  K.

#  I just learned that blueberry lager sounds much better than it tastes.  I think this lager is too strong for the blueberry because it's like a murky mess for the tastebuds.  Too much competition.

# It's hockey season, which is partially why I've dropped back again.  Playoff time and for the first time in my life I like both an NHL team and an AHL team.  It's alot to watch, listen to, or attend.  I love it though.  I'm thisclose to buying one of those big puck hats just so I can be an ass, lol.

# Ok, now I'm trying another method for paragraphs from here down, so I don't know what it will do... you have to tell me what you see.


Gram turns 90 on Wednesday.  Do you have ANY idea how hard it is to buy things for a 90 year old?!  They either have (or had) everything, won't let you replace anything or just aren't interested OR don't want anyone so spend the money.  I think she wants to go to the casino though... you go gram!  =)  (New Paragraph)  My aunt just had surgery and is kinda laid up for a while so I'm trying to help take care of her, too.  Lots of appointments and shit hitting the fan at work.  I'll repost within a week because I'd like some feedback, but it has just been a tiring and trying two weeks.(New paragraph)  I have, however learned that washing down a sedative with this blueberry lager realllly gets the job done.  Time for sleep.

Well, fuck

Now not only have I lost paragraph/spacing formatting, my sidebar is at the bottom. I have not changed anything! If I can't get this fixed, the blog goes. I refuse to be annoyed by this shit. If anyone has any suggestions, let me know. I attempted to select a new template and tried to adjust the columns - nothing is working. And it is hard to know what might work when I didn't change anything to begin with. Ideas? My fucking sidebar is back but I still can't use spacing... this is getting weird.  And now it's gone again.  Seriously - I'm not going to fuck around with this for much longer so if you have any ideas, let me know.

It's just money, right?

Truthfully, I do better when I see it that way. And, if I'm being honest, things just seem to work out better financially when I don't focus on money. Not that I've ever been greedy with it, but I notice that for me, the looser my grip, the more that seems to return. Of course I'm not one for crazy spending, either. So, why all the talk about money? I'm considering spending $500 of it on ME. Oh, plus tax, I'm sure. I should clarify... on me for something I don't need, nor will I have anything to show for. I want to buy a partial season ticket package for the upcoming year for our AHL hockey team. There are so many reasons that I shouldn't and only one as to why I should... 'I want to'. I'll have to see which one wins out. I'm not in a manic phase, so that helps. If I do it, I'll feel guilty. If I pass it by, I'll feel like I should have done it. In my mind, as for alot of other people, I'm sure, just wanting something isn't enough. There has to be some sort of tangible return. If 'happy' were tangible, the decision wouldn't be so hard. :/ * * * * * * * * * * Where did all my paragraphs and spacing go?!?! Anyone know how to get it back??? Might have to switch templates or something. I'm entirely too weird about things to have one giant string of words on here!! * * * * * * * *

So many things going on, so little time...

None of them are mindblowing, but it's just that there are so damned MANY of them that I'm making lists of lists just to stay in the loop! I'd hoped to skip around blogland this weekend but it seems that will have to wait. Spent much time with my mother looking for another car for her. Vile, vile thing to do. Made it to a hockey game on Friday and hope to make it to the last game of regulation season for our AHL team this Saturday. There are so few things I like; really, truly enjoy. Hockey is one of them. I will update soon and will be checking in on everyone beforehand, so I look forward to seeing what has been going on. And now the drugs are convincing me to sleep.... ~ Ok, I'm back - put up a different profile pic maybe a week or two ago and when I just viewed this post, I realized it looks as though you can see down my shirt. Which you can't. But it bugs me. I'll be changing that. Really going now... . . DAMN IT - why is all my formatting gone?! I have no paragraphs anymore?!?! WTF!???!!! I'm going now, but now I'm pissed.

I, the shit-stirrer

Wow. I am a total shit-stirrer. And I didn't even mean to be, really. Not that I care, I'm just saying it wasn't intended. I came across this quote on a ratty bumper sticker, on a dirty Jeep, while in line at a fast food restaurant drive-thru as I sat waiting for my soda. "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." ~ Mohandas Gandhi Now. I thought that was brilliant (duh!) and posted it on the rotten Facebook. Couple comments, nothing major. So my friend, yes, a real one, posts it on her FB page. Holy shit, you would not believe the fallout! Mainly by one guy who happens to be an ultra conservative baptist. Just for shits and giggles I'm going to post HIS comments to that quote. Each paragraph is a new comment. ~ I do NOT like or appreciate that comment. I think it's totally unfair and irrational to lump every single Chrtistian together into one mold and one catatory. I can only hope whoever posted this on your list sees my comment. This is hte same as lumping every white or every black into one catagory and calling all people the same. VERY IMMATURE AND JUST PLAIN WRONG. So has he or she taken the time to spend time with every Christian on this planet? I doubt so. MaryAnn I'm not shooting you but I am surprised you weren't able to see this as I did. ~ Wow, this really has me on fire......I'd love to know who it was. Very narrowminded person. ~ yea but MaryAnn there is a difference between stirring a pot and standing up for waht is right and what you believe in. Do you honestly belive in that statement? Do you personally really believe all Christians are the same and in a negative light? ~ well that's my point exactly, Liz you do NOT classify every single Christian on the planet in the same catagory? That's just absurd. For every one you've met that's negative or hypacritical how many are there that you have never even met? I'm not being rude, or disrespectful but really honeslty? How many Christians are out ther for every one that you didn't like. I've been all over hte countgry and all over the world and its juyst plain INSANE to think every single Christian is bad. ~ Can I ask you all how many states you've lived in? PLease don't tell me your basing this off of an experience in NEO? Please, I've lived like I said, all over the coutnry and have been all over the world. I would really hope people to make this statement has lived in every state in hte union. Otherwise it's just plain childish and redicoiusl ~ Don't worry I'm done, this is the most rediculous coversation I've ever heard. People need to grow up and experience more of what Ohio has to offer before makikng such an insane commedbt ~ My only comment at the end, since he wanted to know who originally posted it an I believe Mr. Gandhi is not available for comment: ~ Well, it made me think and it appears it did the same here. It's a good thing to self-evaluate every now and then. And David, I find it ironic that you are ok spewing forth that I am immature, insane, and just plain wrong (I believe those were some of your words)... judging me for passing on a thought provoking quote by Gandhi. Oh yes, and childish and ridiculous, add those in. Wasn't it YOU who in a recent comment to another person here a few days back said not to judge you because they didn't even KNOW you? Nothing I can do if you are offended. I posted it because I found it thought provoking, not hostility provoking. ~ You know, his response kind of points right back to the quote itself? Obviously the quote goes far deeper but this is an example. And this is why I often find people who claim to be the most devout (just ask, they'll tell you) are often so quick to judge. If your religion teaches you to be kind and forgiving, I don't recall fine print that says unless someone says something you don't like, so why the hostility? That would have been a great opportunity to prove that some people literally do practice what they preach. On David's count: EPIC FAIL! I will say that I did go to high school with him but I doubt he even knows who I am. I had a friend that adored him so I HAD to hear about him all the time, lol. He's a decent guy. I can tell by his typing that the quote had him in an uproar. It hit a nerve. Oh well. Put on your big boy pants - life is like that. This is why I love blogland and barely tolerate facebook. Anyone that reads this that thinks I'm full of shit will no doubt tell me, but they won't sound like an emotionally wounded lunatic. I love you blogland and my beautiful, articulate, intelligent bloggers that can actually make a point and have a conversation. (Sorry, lost formatting and tried to adjust for paragraphs with ~ but meh, not working.)