A Ceramic Fish Joint

It’s cold. Cold, cold, cold. It’s “feels like 20″ cold out. And I have to leave to have an MRI done in about 10 minutes. Picture me kicking my feet around like a little kid because I don’t wanna go.

I had a second appointment to have an ultrasound of my ovaries later today, but decided to cancel it. I figured that I’m already taking the treatment for what they would be looking for – so there’s no real point. Plus, dildo-cam technology sounds fun, but I’m pretty sure it’s not really.

Ugh. I really don’t want to go to this. And I have this feeling the won’t really be able to do the MRI anyways. It’s of my ankle, to check for bone loss. But right above my ankle I have six inches of metal plate and screws. That’s mighty close to the place the giant magnet would be magnatizing. I have a feeling that having something pulled out by an MRI machine is pretty painful. At least I have x-rays to show them where the metal is. Here’s hoping for no mistakes!

I went to an orthopedic surgeon today to have my ankle checked out. It’s the one I broke back in 2003, but lately I’ve had a lot of problems with it. Mainly it hurts all the time, feels all week and crunchy in the middle and is hard to walk on by the end of the day.

Well, x-rays were taken while I was at the office. It turns out that the fractured part of my leg is fine. But the bottom part of the bone? Not so fine. I either have arthritis which is starting to get bad or some degenerative bone issue. And he’s heavily leaning towards the latter. Which sucks ass apparently. He said I won’t need surgery on it yet, but if it is my bone being fucked up, then in the next 5 – 10 years I’ll need to have my ankle fused together. Which isn’t a great solution by his own admission. It will make it so I can continue to walk, but will cause problems later down the line with my knee, hip and back. Plus it’s a super painful surgery that is hard to recover from.

I never thought I would be hoping for more arthritis at age 27. (I already have arthritis in all my toes, apparently. This was discovered during a bone scan when I was 12 – done because of this same damn ankle.)

On the plus side, it’s good to know that it’s not just in my head. And that it’s not just because I’m in cold weather. Or because it might rain sometime this year. There’s something real and tangible wrong with my ankle.

This leads me to wanting to kick the guy who caused my ankle to be so fucked up in the first place. Way back when I was 12, we had this fun little nightmare called 6th grade camp at school. Staying in a cabin for a week, doing camping things like singing songs and going on hikes and learning about birds and/or bees. Also, the person running it that year was a camp Nazi. I sprained my ankle badly on the first day that I was there. And I was refused the right to go to a hospital. Instead I had to walk on the ankle the entire week. The day after I sprained it, we had a trip to Blackwater Falls. And I was forced to walk down to the waterfalls – a total of 202 steps down (and 202 back.) This fucked my ankle even more. The only thing I was exempt from was running. By the end of the week my foot wouldn’t fit into my shoes and my leg was bruised up to my knee. I saw an orthopedic surgeon back then, too. It turned out that one of the ligaments in my ankle had been completely fucked up. They wouldn’t operate because I was still growing and he feared it would interfere with the growth plates in my ankle causing one leg to be shorter.

It eventually healed for the most part. Oh, and it took two years to have the school system even acknowledge that there was a problem with the camp director and he was finally fired when I was in 8th grade. I still want to kick him. Even after my ankle healed, I had a problem where my ankle would twist and give out. Which is how I broke it back in 2003. I was drinking, stood up, and my ankle gave out. Since I was drunk I wasn’t able to correct myself and broke the hell out of my leg. I have had pain in it off an on since I broke it. But recently it’s been all but constant. Even my arch hurts on that foot; I guess because I’m walking on it funny.

So that’s what the doctor experience for today was. Monday I had to switch meds again. Tomorrow I get my annual girly-bit checkup and go to the therapist so I can talk about how my family makes me crazy. And Friday I have an MRI. Way too much medical action this week. The only positive thing is that I got painkillers from the doctor today. Which is good because prescription strength Aleve and Ibuprofen aren’t working. The Vicodin will help the back hurty, too. Vicodin helps everything. Except for the cold weather here. Once I figure that one out (or get back to Tampa) all will be good.

Oh, the other thing I learned today was that I’ll never be able to have a job where I work on my feet again. And if I am able to lose weight while not stressing the ankle too much, it will help matters. Especially if I do need surgery. But it will be very difficult to do (moreso than usual, of course) because I now have to be extra careful with what I’m doing on that leg. It’s still good to know that there’s at least something I can do on my own.

I’m not feeling so hot today.  My tummy is revolting against me. I’m not sure if it was the lack of eating, then trying to eat cheap pizza. Or if it was switching meds. Or if it was taking a couple of old school MiniThins to stay awake then Percocet to bring me back down. Hmm, now that I read the options, it was probably the MiniThins and Percocet.

Anyway, it sucks. I can’t even eat my favorite Orange Craisins without getting sick. Stupid pills.

In not so sick news, I may have found an apartment and roommate today. Thank you, Craigslist. I have to fax in an application – so my credit could kill me, but it sounds promising. The apartment is also right next to the last one Wes and I lived in, and has the exact same layout. So that part is pretty good. It’s a little weird to move in with someone you’ve never met, but I figure that you can’t find out too much more about a person in a half an hour face to face than you can over the phone. Anyway, I should know by the end of the week if everything is okay with this place. And will move in sometime in January. Apparently if the lease is signed beginning December 30th, we get January for free – which works out well for me since I probably won’t be there.

I do need to figure out if I still have a job or not. I’ll have to call my supervisor tomorrow. Not having a job after the end of the year would put a damper on my living situation.

In other random news, I broke a nail to hurty proportions. Which meant I had to cut all my nails and now they’re not pretty. I like my hands, and now they look bad which just sucks. I guess I’m not really winning people over with my lovely hands right now, but it’s my little vain thing. Oh! More randomness – I finished a short little scarf with a creepy clown button. No really, it’s especially creepy even for being a clown. See here:

Well, I had a better picture of the button but my phone isn’t transferring pictures to my computer and my camera depletes batteries faster than my vibrator, so that’s all you get.

Earlier, I forgot to write what I had intended.  D’oh!  Anyway, I went to the doctor yesterday and I don’t have any scary weird disorders.  Hurray!  I switched medication, too..which is good and bad.  Good because the side effects I was experiencing sucked ass.  Bad because I have to try out this medicine for a while, too.  I hate square one.  Also, I have to go to an orthopedic surgeon tomorrow, which is eh news.  The ankle I broke the hell out of a few years ago is hurting lots so I need to have it checked out.  This week is all about doctor’s appointments.  Monday = general practitioner.  Wednesday = orthopedic surgeon.  Thursday = girly bits doctor, therapist.  This is just too much fun to express.

I just read some six year old journal entries which were unsettling.  They took me back to a place I didn’t want to ever remember.  I’m sure I’ll feel the same way six years from now.  Anyway, at the time things were really rough for me.  I had just had a really bad car accident, my mom first found out she was sick and my long term relationship had just ended.  Oh, and it was the beginning of my opiate addiction plus I had to quit a job I loved and drop out of school.  Everything was kinda kicking my ass.

Ah well, we live – we learn. Which, oddly enough, is what today’s Hugnation Tao Buffet was all about. So it’s fitting, I suppose. I was a different person then and didn’t know what I do now. And I really was living to the best of my abilities. Hugnation is always interesting because no matter what is going on, the message is appropriate. (Tuesdays, 1pm Pacific – get your hug on)

I feel so much better after hugnation. I think I’ve said this before, but I was never a fan of Halcyon. Then a few months ago I stumbled back on his site and found Hugnation from it. It happened during the best possible time. I was really depressed and having a hard time staying with my family. Uh, I’m still having a hard time staying with my family, but things are a bit more in perspective for me. Anyway, every Tuesday I would participate in Hugnation and bask in the love. At least for a day I would be a much happier and more enlightened person. Oftentimes, the enlightenment wouldn’t last. But the following week I would gain a bit more from the hug and tao buffet message. I like to think that I am living my life a little better now because of it. I’m not as critical of myself as I used to be and I think I see the big picture a little clearer than in the past. I’m not perfect, obviously. I think I am growing along the right path, though.

So I guess the moral of today is to love yourself and realize that you always are living life to the best of your abilities. Don’t be critical of your mistakes because each one is a learning experience.

So I dreamt about Pierogies.  Lazy Pierogies.  Yes, that’s what they were called.  You could bake or microwave them and they’d still be fluffy!  Not that they’re actually fluffy when you fry them – but they would be yummy and lazy!  The great thing is that Pierogies are the laziest food ever anyway.  I mean, except for cheese cubes and cold, dry cereal – both of which are already prepared.  Still, Lazy Pierogies.  With the silver label.  Mrs. T should totally make those.

So for therapy, I have to write a letter to my brother telling him all the reasons I hate him.  It’s one of those unsent letters that we get to hash over in therapy.  I hate this.  But, I’ve done it, and following is the letter thus far…

(more…)

I’m starting to feel very uncomfortable again at the thought of living by myself. I don’t think I’ll have the money for everything I need. I don’t think I can really afford living like I want.

At the same time, part of me wonders if Tampa is the place for me. I really don’t know anymore. I don’t know what I want. Or what is best for me. I may sublet a room in someone’s apartment or house. That would be the easiest thing to do. But is easiest the right thing?

I really hate making decisions, whether big or little. What to eat, what part of the country should I live in… any decision I have to make causes great panic and anxiety in me. Speaking of anxiety and whatnot, I had stopped taking my meds – almost all of them. Then I realized that my blood pressure was crazy high and I felt more and more disconnected from reality. I hate that fuzzy, fluffy feeling. Like a haze, but with a disconnect. I’m not in the same reality as everyone else, somehow my own life is a little down and to the left. It makes interaction hard because I’m not sure quite how to interact. I know the things I should be doing to make myself healthy, but I can’t seem to follow through.

I make promises to see people, and rarely am able to do it. Fear. It grips me. Choking, suffocating, enveloping. I hate being crippled by fear. I hate the anxiety that rises inside me. I don’t think meds are helping me. At the very least, they are not helping enough. I wonder if the benefit/downside ratio is really worth it. The side effects suck. I am exhausted all of the time, sleeping most of the day. When I’m not sleeping, I have spurts of intense energy which lasts only an hour or two. Then I crash, hard. I’m not just tired, but in physical pain. It hurts to open my eyes, to move my arms, to talk. I fall asleep with the tv on and overhead lights in my eyes. Right now, I’m nodding off while sitting upright, laptop on my legs. This is only part of what happens. I can’t taste anything. I can’t go to the bathroom. Yesterday, I realized just how bad that part was when I had to collect my urine for a day for a few tests. I wonder if my kidneys are working. My output is less than a tenth of of what I drink in a day. My blood pressure is extremely high. My heartrate is unsteady, sometimes weak and sometimes bounding. Sometimes it races, other times it’s much slower than normal. My blood sugar is getting messed up again, with varying highs and lows. And finally my body just feels weird, off in some way. Not disconnected necessarily, but I can tell that something is happening. Oh, and then there’s the hallucinations. Lately, I’ve found myself in bat country a little more often than I would like. And I have nightmares almost every time I fall asleep. Not clowns and zombies and Stabby McKnife, but dreams about life. And it being fucked up. I wake up after dreaming of my family losing everything they have, or being stuck in huge fights and drama that I can’t block out.

On the plus side, when I’m taking the meds I don’t have nearly as much anxiety while awake. I’m slightly less irritable and argumentative. And then the whole depersonalization crap. Which, hell…I’ve taken a lot of drugs and never felt like this. It’s not a fun experience, especially since it’s completely uncontrollable. So not having it happen as often is a definite plus.

Hmm, not the direction I expected this little entry to go…but what can you do?

So I’m staying in this small town. Two theaters in 25 miles. A total of 9 screens. I am dying. They only play the biggest movies, so right now I am missing a LOT that I have wanted to see. I missed Elizabeth: The Golden Age. What the fuck? That’s not even an independent film. I’m going to miss Margot at the Wedding. I’m going to miss No Country for Old Men. I don’t even know what else I’m missing – I stopped paying attention after a while.

I’m in the middle of making Sweet Potato Crack – via a Martha magazine long ago. Shut up. I learned it from other people. Anyway, there was no thyme here, so I substituted rosemary…hopefully it will be good. Basically it’s diced or cubed or sliced sweet potatoes, some garlic (I used roasted garlic,) olive oil and thyme (or rosemary.) Throw potatoes in roasting pan thing, toss with olive oil, garlic and thyme and sprinkle some kosher salt on it. Then bake until crack-a-liscious.

I have an hour and a half until my 24 hour test of hell is over (pee in a cup for 24 hours to have it analyzed.) I figured I might as well stay awake after I made punkin yumminess. I’ve watched a disc of Firefly and need something new to watch. I wonder if too much Firefly is making me a little crazier. But I look, and all my movies or shows are crazy-inducing. I mean, is American Beauty or Pi really any better? Or Twin Peaks? How about Millennium? Perhaps I could just get a few seasons of the X Files and watch it over and over again until I’m rocking in a corner. Yeah, not a good idea.

But, only an hour and a half left. Then I can take a nap I guess. My days are so exciting. I am getting tired, though. I fell asleep for a couple hours last night; maybe 2 or 3…not nearly enough for me to be awake for the day. At least not without being cranky.

Late November in the Appalachian Mountains is a weird time of year. Sometimes it’s snowing on Thanksgiving; this year the temps will be in the 60s.Every time I’m around my mom declares that she is going to die soon. “I don’t think I’ll see another x holiday.” Or, if I’m visiting at an off time of year, “I don’t think I’ll see another summer.” Or whatever. So, since I’ll be here probably until February, she’s decided she won’t have another Thanksgiving/Christmas again. Which means she wants to make it extra special. Which means I have to do all the work. And I don’t like holidays, or a lot of work.Right now, it’s before 6am on Wednesday. I have pumpkin cheesecake in the oven. My mom wanted me to attempt to make a pumpkin roll for my aunt. I’ve never done this. I don’t know how to do this. I can bake really well, but holy fucking science woman. Seriously. We’re the family that doesn’t sit down to dinner. On holidays we’re generally in different places. Often, I work or eat take-out. Not this whole 27 course meal thing with Surprise! New dishes! Except this time apparently that’s what I have to do. Le sigh.Anyway, on top of the cheesecake I’m making, I’m also making veggie soup for today. Because our refridgerator is huge and one of the two shelves in it isn’t broken and it can totally hold an extra crockpot full of food. I had planned on making more stuff today so I don’t have to do much tomorrow (sweet potato crack and mashed potatoes since they take the longest) but I’m not sure about fridge space. This is totally not something I should have to worry about. If it were, it would be the fifties and I would have a neat dress and apron along with an ample supply of valium to get me through the rough night that lies ahead.And I’m supposed to “stay patient” during all of this, according to my dad. Because my mom is a bit crazier than normal. My therapist says November is an emotionally charged month. Mom had deaths of three people relatively close to her in November (ex-husband, who she treated when he was brought to ICU after a wreck in 87, father-in-law who died of cancer and she took care of him at home in 88, mother who died of cancer at the end of November in 89 – mom basically lived with her during the final two months.) I guess this means that I, too, have an emotionally charged November. Add to mine a rape in 89, though. Since I have to all work through it I might as well talk about it. It causes less crying in therapy.Sweet science, I’ve become one of those people who talks about their therapy and “my therapist says…” Just shoot me now, please.