Wednesday, November 30, 2011
:::cue feminine hygiene commerical::: (you're welcome, JT)
(Woman stands, looking at herself in the mirror. In the background, Fall leaves swirl outside, seen through the window)
Announcer: Sometimes, you need a fresh start. Fresh make-up, fresh hair, fresh panties. You can't do much about gray lungs, or a bloated fatty liver. But, we at CooterClenz strive to make your insides feel as fresh as a basket of clean laundry. Why shouldn't everything inside be as fresh?
Woman: You're right! I DO deserve to have fresh innards! While I can't get a new esophagus-yet--I CAN make sure my ladybits are just as fresh, carefree and magical as the falling leaves outside. Thanks, CooterClenz! You started my workweek out right! And, with new Apple Cinnamon, my ladybits will remind the entire office that Fall is in the air!!!
(woman holds up box of CooterClenz)
New CooterClenz. Original, Cotton Candy for the lazy days of summer, and now, Apple Cinnamon!!
Where was I? Oh, yes.
Mental illness is quite the roller coaster, isn't it? I'm still pissy with my health, and those poor souls that try to explain it to me. But, I have new mugs in my Zazzle store, I look cute in a burgundy fall sweater, and I am still sleeping pretty well-I'm on a roll! Hell, I might even get shit done today! The world is my oyster.
I am in a good mood, my end-of-year stuff at work is falling into place thanks to the awesome chicks I work with, I won some yummy Zico coconut stuff from my local Gluten Free Specialty Shop (located conveniently at J and 26th, right downtown, for those of you in the Sacramento area-they don't pay me to plug, but they should-in LaraBars!) and fall is a-fallin'.
The leaves are swirling around with fury, and all I want to do is rake them into a pile and let kids jump in them. After I go first, of course. What is it about these leaves that have struck me as particularly magical today? I don't know, but I DO know I could use a little magic. And not the stabbing-pain-in-the-eye-voodoo-shit I have experienced as of late. I mean the magic that comes to children during this time of year. After all, I am just a big kid. A big kid with a bra. A big kid, with a bra, that swears a lot. Damn. That was almost poetic, and then my crazy brain muddled it. Shit. I was doing so well with the "fresh start" crap--almost like your favorite douche commercial as a child.
Now, I got the kids-plenty to go 'round, as they say. All I need is the rake, a Raker, and a big liability rider.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Fucking fuck. That's how I feel about today. That's how I feel about my stupid stupid dummy-head doctor, and that's totally how I feel about fucking fuckity fibromyaglia. Except with more F-words.
Lemme back up.
Every time I visit my Rheumatologist, I go prepared. Sky King accompanies me, I take a list of current meds, and I have a list of shit I want to end.
This time, it was:
List of Concerns:
- Hair loss, noted by myself, and my hair stylist--now, we're not talking "hot pink hooker wig" loss. just noticeable thinning. Irritating, and doesn't seem to link to a particular med I take.
- Fatigue. I'm sofa king tired, I can't even stand it. (HA! Get it? Can't STAND it? 'Cause I wanna lay down? Nevermind...)The sleeping meds I take make me feel like I had two scotches for breakfast, instead of a gluten-free LaraBar. Which sucks, because I commute on the days I have energy to deal with work.
- Pain. Motherfucking mind-blowing pain, that means sometimes I have to choose between playing Angry Birds, and feeding myself. Sometimes the birds win. Sometimes the spoon into the Gluten Free Dairy Free frozen dessert wins. Which is why my weight loss is, shall we say, a tad non-existent lately. Fucking sue me, I'm in pain.
Moving right along...
Then we talk pain. I explain about the wrists, the elbows, the hips. The knees, too. I tell him that it is bothersome, and daily-life-hindering. I tell him that some days, I have trouble holding the steering wheel. I tell him this is not okay with me, with the whole own-a-business things I got going. You know me, and my silliness with that income thing. Apparently, he does not understand the realism in my voice, because he does not immediately offer a hopeful explanation. Instead, he asks about my mood.
"Grumpy" does not even begin to scratch the surface of the state of my mood lately. Not only am I not supposed to work too much, do fun stuff too much, or extend myself in any way, I also need to be mindful of my body mechanics and take note of triggers, gobble pills all day, spend hundreds a month on co-pays for sleep doctors, acupuncturists, head doctors (and not the voodoo-y problem-fixing ones), Rheuma-whatever doctors, primary care doctors, neurologists, and whatever else. All while reducing my stress...during the holidays. Which is stressing me out. He says he understands. But his lack of prescription writing for the perfect drug is telling another story altogether.
So he leaves it like this:
Hair: fine, in terms of loss-not the kind of loss that would be the sign of something bad, so suck it up, Rapunzel.
Fatigue: It has only been 2 weeks on the sleep med, and if I have been having poor sleep for a year (possibly since I was 12 when I was first told I
Pain: Here is the kicker. He thinks it is fibromyalgia, rather than Rheumatoid Arthritis. Which is good, and bad. Good because fibromyalgia won't shorten my life. Just make it an angry bitch. The meds suck, and don't help much with pain. Now if it is RA, that shit is degenerative. My blood work shows the possibility. The meds out there will help the pain. But. The meds suck. The nicest of them is prednisone. The yuckiest is chemo, among others. So praying for "not RA" is the key right now.
Mood: He thinks my biggest problem is anxiety and depression. i tell him, "Yeah, NOW it's my biggest problem. You just pretty much gave me no hope, dude.". I get that I have a tendency towards depression. I get it, I accept it. It's a bitter pill to swallow (I can do this all day, folks. ALL. FUCKING. DAY.) but my health is NOT making it easy. Fine, give me a pill or five that makes me happy I can't fucking eat, use the computer, smack my kids around, whatevs. But shit, really???? That's my PRIMARY problem??? Because people should take the inability to walk without a limp upon standing EACH TIME I STAND, FOR UP TO 10 MINUTES in stride. Umkay. I think this kind of can't-do attitude is what makes doctors have unlisted numbers.
I even have a T-shirt planned. I'm going to Zazzle it. Then, I will wear it to all subsequent appointments-every 4 month follow-up. It's gonna say,
"I went to see my doctor, and all I got was a 3 hour lab wait and referral to psych".
I leave, feeling defeated. If I have RA, they can treat is aggressively, but the drugs may cause some shit I can't even fathom. If it's not RA, this fibro bitch gets upgraded to "flaming whore" status, and I have to find some other way to cope that is A) do-able, B) not pain meds that destroy my already taxed liver and C) does NOT involve copious amounts of kicking puppies, which is what I want to do. It's not so much the "puppy" part, more the "kicking" part. The kick has to be satisfying, though. Kicking a wall, or a fluffy pillow ain't the solution.
So, I feel like cussing, and crying. Sorry I wasn't funny today. Tomorrow will be better, especially with all these mental health issues, I'm sure of it.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Fine. Just because you're a jerk doesn't mean the world should suffer without my awesome craftiness. As you know, because you spend most of your free time hanging on my every word, my kiddos both go to an amazing Montessori Charter school for 2nd and 7th grades. Each Christmas, I try to come up with fun gifts for the teachers. I avoid the usual junk-things based on pencils, note pads, apples. I usually steer clear of bath and body items as well-I'm sure many people will do that. As a former teacher, I know what I wanted to get and that was gift cards, or cash. Some schools have policies on cash, and the OCD crafter in me can't do it, unless it's done super-creatively. Since I suck at money origami, I do gift cards.
Monkey Boy has three teachers-they rotate from room to room like traditional middle schools, but electives are taught by volunteer parents and there are only 3 staff members, so still the close-knit community that I love.
I figured out a creative way to give gift cards! First, you take a reusable insulated cup, and place a gift card inside.
Set it on it's side, and put in some crap to hold the gift card still. I used some re-purposed (that's fancy talk for garbage) bows that are curly and not too smooshed. You could also use confetti as a passive-aggressive way to be mean. We all know no one likes confetti. Except janitors that get paid by the hour. Or raffia if you have it. Or maybe crumple up some of your child's best work, and stuff them in there. Although that may send the wrong message, like maybe you think they gave your kid good grades because you give awesome gifts.
Anyways, cram some stuff in there, otherwise it looks just like you threw a Starbuck's card in a cup. Which would be rude. Unless it was a $100 gift card. Then, you can pretty much throw it at them. I know-I was a teacher, and I had no shame when the gift card amount was high. I'm a professional, y'all.
Then, you put a couple more in there, 3 fit nicely.
Now remember, my kids are pretty much total train wrecks, so I go big. 3 teachers, 3 gift cards for $10 each card, plus the cup. Maybe you have good kids. If that is the case, you could do something different, like 3 cards of $5 each, in a card. Or maybe you are just a cheap unappreciative asshole. Or you are only doing a gift because you don't want to look like a jerk, but you really don't like the teacher. In which case, just buy them some crappy body wash from the grocery store, asshole.
Of course, if you like me and my blog, you probably have rotten kids too. Or, you think I make all this shit up for your amusement. if that's the case, yes, I make this up. I'm that creative. My kids are really quite sweet, and I got each teacher a $3 Whitman's Sampler. Moving on.
So, the cup should look like this:
Friday, November 25, 2011
I was concerned that my stupid health crap would impinge on the road tripping in our future. However, for what we did, I did fairly good. We took few breaks but I manged to move around quite a bit, changing position so I didn't get too stiff. And, it was very conducive to napping. Our new Swagger Wagon has amazing seats that recline wonderfully. Bring enough pillows and a blankie, and it's snooze time!
One important aspect is the road trip music. This last trip I tried to introduce an audio book on parenting. It was as if I suggested dental surgery. The kids shall continue to run amok, because we blasted the tunes instead. Here is my list of essential road trip music. What would you add? (No deleting, it's MY list, jackass.)
Shania Twain-Come On Over, even with her overuse of apostrophes in the song titles, I can't help but belt out Man, I Feel Like a Woman, especially after a particularly filling fast-food burger.
Steve Miller Band- Greatest Hits1974-1978. Nothin' says "bonding" like Big Ole Jed with a Light On. Or the Airliner one, whatever. The details are NOT in the lyrics.
Madonna, Immaculate Collection-Holiday, Celebrate, need I say more?
Michael Jackson, Thriller-doing the dance moves from the video not only keeps other cars around us awake, but it helps with our motor skills. By the time we get to bum-fuck nowhere, I am a much better dancer.
Red Hot Chili Peppers-Blood Sugar Sex Magik. I Got Stopped by a Lady Cop, in my Automobile....this song reminds me of the time when my stereo was stolen and Sky King and I had to sing to each other for a 2 hour trip.
Elton John-Pretty much anything, as long as it includes Benny and the Jets.
Billy Joel-Love me some Uptown Girl, and all the other shit that came out in the late 80's, early 90's. Love.
90's music in general is perfect for a road trip-the inane lyrics lend themselves well to road-trip monotony.
Sir Mix-a-Lot-Baby's Got Back is just about the most perfect song known to man-it's got a catchy tune, the lyrics speak the truth (who DOESN'T like a big butt? Got me goin' like a turbo 'vette-musical genius, I say)
What music keeps you going on long trips?
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
My sweet Princess, enjoying being a kitty.
Sometimes it's fun to pretend to be something else. Today, I am pretending to be healthy.
This probably means I will pay for a week, but my kids are worth it.
What do you do, that you know you will pay dearly for?
Monday, November 21, 2011
I have found some unexpected seasonal yumminess! So far, these two make excellent additions to coffee, with less carbs and sugar than those awesome but dangerous creamers at the traditional stores!
Us gluten-free casein-free people gotta be able to party hearty, too!
Maybe I will try it with coffee and rum, next....
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Saturday, November 19, 2011
- · I may need to find a good esthetician to wax my bikini area
- · Princess talks too much
- · We suck at parenting
- · Ugly people should avoid our daughter. And our son too, because he carries knives.
Friday, November 18, 2011
I have begun to sleep. Well, I might add.
Long story short, I have not slept well in about a year. After a sleep study in which I slept at the hospital hooked up to machines while a stranger watched my every move on video, I finally got the results of that study:
I do NOT have sleep apnea. This is great! However, I still don't sleep well. This is bad.
So, after hemming and hawing, my doctor, Dr F (my Sleep Medicine Doctor) said she could give me some medication to try. These are what she recommended:
- Something based on Melatonin-this is a fat NO, due to my creepy realistic dreams. Un uh.
- Ambien and Lunesta. These are FOR sleep, and only sleep. I'm game, but all the horror stories about sleep-eating, sleep-driving, and sleep-shopping have Sky King a bit wary. He's rightfully cautious, because of my "issues" with Nordstrom. But I sure would look great in some new boots after sleep-shopping---alas, we all know that's a treacherous path to go down.
- The next group are a group of older meds for anxiety-Sign me up, right? They tend to make you sleepy, so right before bed is perfect. They work with the Cymbalta for the Fibro pain, also fab. So I get a script for Mirazapine.
But, 4 days later, I am still sleeping!
:::cue angels and harp music:::
I feel good when I wake, but am having a hard time wanting to get up. Maybe it is catching up on a year's worth of good sleep? Maybe the med is too strong? I'm going to give it a couple weeks, then make a firm assessment.