Ok, I promise that I'll start talking about more positive things in near future posts, but I have to get a few things out of the way first. I'm finding that because I've allowed myself to get this low, I have very few things to write about that aren't complaints. But whatever, that's why I'm doing this, right? To fix it?
Anyhow, a few weeks ago, I started getting a little stuffy in my nose. Not only do I have seasonal allergies, but we've found out that I'm also allergic to timothy hay, which we must keep in our apartment in abundance at all times to feed our eight guinea pigs.
So, no big deal, right? Except that after the stuffy nose cleared up, I started finding myself to be a little short of breath and wheezing. It kept getting worse and worse and since I wasn't really coughing much, Karl took me to the Primary Health (doc-in-the-box kinda place) down the road who summarily told me I was having an asthma attack then brazenly falsified my test results RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. My oxygen saturation was 93 when I walked in and after three requisite (for asthma) breathing treatments, I had gone down to 89. The doctor wrote down 90-92 on the paper, 90 being the cut-off for sending me to the hospital in an ambulance per clinic procedure. So I actually appreciated the falsification in lieu of the most expensive taxi service in the world, however... I don't have asthma. He took an x-ray, which showed I didn't have pneumonia, either, so basically, the doctor sent me home with a prescription for the same stuff that had actually lowered my oxygen saturation in front of him and his two nurses and less than absolutely no fucks about what happened to me after I got the hell out of his clinic. Well, good riddance anyway to that shitty, careless doctor.
But I was still having breathing issues. By the next day, I was coughing a little bit and what came up wasn't phlegm, but mildly bloody tasting water. So we went to my regular doctor's office at Family Medicine Residency, only to ind that my regular doctor didn't work there anymore. And the NP that I did see basically said the same thing -- that it was likely asthma, based on steam engine train she could hear running around inside my lungs. She again, gave me a prescription for Albuterol and some steroids and sent me on my merry way. Days later, I had no improvement, so we again went back to FMR to see a new doctor. She looked at my history and saw that I have a clotting disorder, a Mirena IUD, and that I am a half a pack per day smoker. This peaked her concern and told me something I've always dreaded... that I might have a pulmonary embolism. It's what my mother died from when I was twelve years old, and she was only six years older than I am now. So... I got sad. And angry. And maybe a little panicky, while we're at it. For a few days I sulked around, wondering if maybe I might die soon. During a follow-up visit, I was told to immediately go the Emergency Room at St. Luke's to get a CT scan, which thankfully absolved me of worrying about possible imminent death, but the final diagnosis I received from the trip is proving to probably not be correct... pneumonia. After all that... literally 3 full weeks of wheezing and occasional light blood-water coughing, I'm told I have freaking pneumonia.
It's been a week now, and the antibiotics and steroids and inhalor and smoking (semi-)cessation haven't helped. If anything I'm getting worse. And what's missing from all of this is the fact that I haven't, throughout the past month, been "sick" at all. No fevers, no bodily malaise, no snot-rockets, or phlegmy coughs. Just the mild stuffy nose for a day or two, then pseudo-asthma/pneumonia symptoms. Not sure what to do from here, so hopefully this problem will fix itself soon, and the good part of it is that I have a really good reason to quit smoking finally. It's been a monkey on my back for nearly 20 years, so I have that to work on and succeed in doing.
Again, here's my obligatory apology for a hastily written and boring blog post, and like I said before... I promise there's better waiting to come out of me. Bear with me through the insufferable and I'll eventually offer up the irresistible ;-P
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Friday, October 11, 2013
Overreaction to a Pet Peeve
Alrighty, Internet, here I am to check in once again! I made it to post #2! This is fucking progress!
Obviously, I wasn't feeling particularly optimistic nor was I in a very good mood last time I sat down to write to all of you, so forgive me if I came off as a narcissistic nihilist bitch. That will happen from time to time. I can't really afford therapy, so it comes to you to deal with.
We didn't get to go to the anime festival. It was too expensive and I misjudged my husband, Karl's level of interest in anime and anime accessories, so we ended up just going out to have a good day out of the house. After hearing rave reviews about this new restaurant chain that's been popping up here and there around Boise, Noodles & Co., we thought we'd try it out. It was pretty darned good all in all, but not fantastic. What was fantastic was the service. The people working at the Milwaukee Blvd location seemed to genuinely enjoy working there and seemed to have (dare I say it?) pride in their work. Mind you, this place is like... not very many steps above "fast" food, so to see the young Boisean men and women who worked there speak so enthusiastically about their culinary offerings was a nice (and surprising) change from the norm. This isn't really a food blog, so I won't get into the whole "I ate this and Karl ate that and this is what it tasted like" crap, but we did observe a situation at this restaurant that I'd like to address to the internet-viewing public at large...
Internet, look... I have a lot of advice to give, and most of the time it's advice I, myself, follow. I promise you, I will try not to dole out too much advice specifically about parenting, as I will always be the first to say, I have no idea how to do it. I just know what it looks like when you're doing it wrong.
Ok, so Karl and I and our youngest daughter, Tesla were eating, and a few tables away from us sat another youngish family with two children. One child was around sixish maybe, and the other was probably around a year, maybe a bit younger, and sitting in a highchair and eating loose macaroni noodles off a mat of some sort. They were done with their meal, so Mom stood up to start strapping one of those sexual bondage devices that can later double as a baby-carrying aid to herself. Dad then stuffed said device with said baby and all exited out the door, Dad loaded down with the biggest freaking diaper bag I have ever seen. You should have seen this freaking diaper bag. Half of their baby shower presents and a few of the guests could have been in that thing for all I know.
Anyway, I mean, you understand of course, that these people were only walking from their table out of the restaurant, not stopping to pay because at Noodles& Co. you pay before you get your food like at fast food restaurants, and then ten feet into the parking lot to their mini-van, where they'd be depositing their squishy bag of baby into another (albeit more forgivable) bondage device called a car seat. In consideration of not only the baby Hip-Dysplasianator ™, but the deflated queen-size waterbed mattress they were using as a diaper bag, it can be assumed that this particular mommy does what she can to ensure that her baby-raising style is fashioned upon ease and convenience. The dichotomy of seeing her and her husband take five minutes to construct the most "convenient" two minute trip from a restaurant table to a mini-van, and seeing the freaking disaster they left behind for the minimum wage-earning employees at the restaurant to clean up without ALSO leaving them a tip made my brain explode.
So you know what I did? I took pictures of it and mentally prepared to rant about it on this blog, while furiously bitching about it to my husband.
See, here's the deal, Internet: If you're the type of person who demands convenience as some sort of make-up for the difficulties one might experience for having children, that's fine. But do NOT allow your children to then be everyone else's inconvenience. Cleaning up after your kids' messes are not "what [restaurant employees] are paid to do." It isn't "their job." You gave birth to the baby and enabled him/her to make the mess; therefore, it's YOUR job. I am definitely overreacting, but rudeness is part and parcel when dealing with the public and frankly, it's breaking my heart. Entitlement and self-excusing are things we teach our kids from a very young age. I try not to make the same mistake.
Anyway, we had one of the best days we've had for quite awhile, and I'm hoping to have more. I'm planning on making some new clothes soon, too! I'll post those as they come. See you all later!
Obviously, I wasn't feeling particularly optimistic nor was I in a very good mood last time I sat down to write to all of you, so forgive me if I came off as a narcissistic nihilist bitch. That will happen from time to time. I can't really afford therapy, so it comes to you to deal with.
We didn't get to go to the anime festival. It was too expensive and I misjudged my husband, Karl's level of interest in anime and anime accessories, so we ended up just going out to have a good day out of the house. After hearing rave reviews about this new restaurant chain that's been popping up here and there around Boise, Noodles & Co., we thought we'd try it out. It was pretty darned good all in all, but not fantastic. What was fantastic was the service. The people working at the Milwaukee Blvd location seemed to genuinely enjoy working there and seemed to have (dare I say it?) pride in their work. Mind you, this place is like... not very many steps above "fast" food, so to see the young Boisean men and women who worked there speak so enthusiastically about their culinary offerings was a nice (and surprising) change from the norm. This isn't really a food blog, so I won't get into the whole "I ate this and Karl ate that and this is what it tasted like" crap, but we did observe a situation at this restaurant that I'd like to address to the internet-viewing public at large...
Internet, look... I have a lot of advice to give, and most of the time it's advice I, myself, follow. I promise you, I will try not to dole out too much advice specifically about parenting, as I will always be the first to say, I have no idea how to do it. I just know what it looks like when you're doing it wrong.
Ok, so Karl and I and our youngest daughter, Tesla were eating, and a few tables away from us sat another youngish family with two children. One child was around sixish maybe, and the other was probably around a year, maybe a bit younger, and sitting in a highchair and eating loose macaroni noodles off a mat of some sort. They were done with their meal, so Mom stood up to start strapping one of those sexual bondage devices that can later double as a baby-carrying aid to herself. Dad then stuffed said device with said baby and all exited out the door, Dad loaded down with the biggest freaking diaper bag I have ever seen. You should have seen this freaking diaper bag. Half of their baby shower presents and a few of the guests could have been in that thing for all I know.Anyway, I mean, you understand of course, that these people were only walking from their table out of the restaurant, not stopping to pay because at Noodles& Co. you pay before you get your food like at fast food restaurants, and then ten feet into the parking lot to their mini-van, where they'd be depositing their squishy bag of baby into another (albeit more forgivable) bondage device called a car seat. In consideration of not only the baby Hip-Dysplasianator ™, but the deflated queen-size waterbed mattress they were using as a diaper bag, it can be assumed that this particular mommy does what she can to ensure that her baby-raising style is fashioned upon ease and convenience. The dichotomy of seeing her and her husband take five minutes to construct the most "convenient" two minute trip from a restaurant table to a mini-van, and seeing the freaking disaster they left behind for the minimum wage-earning employees at the restaurant to clean up without ALSO leaving them a tip made my brain explode.
So you know what I did? I took pictures of it and mentally prepared to rant about it on this blog, while furiously bitching about it to my husband.
 |
| This doesn't really do it justice... or I'm way too judgemental. |
Anyway, we had one of the best days we've had for quite awhile, and I'm hoping to have more. I'm planning on making some new clothes soon, too! I'll post those as they come. See you all later!
Saturday, October 5, 2013
First Post
The first sentence is always the hardest. After that one, things tend to just... flow. So, I'm sitting here realizing how out of practice I am with my writing and trying to think up a good first sentence to my first blog post in literally years. Done.
So, without regard to audience, demographics, popularity, page views, etc... I must write. One of my favorite websites, Cracked.com had an article by David Wong that challenged it's readers to "do anything" this year that will make us better, more interesting people. I completely concurred with his premise that I have become a little too boring, a little too entitled to attention, and a little too auto-piloted in my daily doings, and he made me want to change that. Thank you, Mr. Wong. I accept your challenge. I'm going to create this blog. I'm going to create things, situations, and ideas worth reading about. I'm going to create a new path for myself. I'm going to move to Portland.
I used to have one hell of an imagination. Not anymore. See, my brain isn't currently able to function as it once did, and my personality has been grayed-out. I take a drug cocktail every morning that you might perhaps suspect a seasoned pro-athlete, or a 50-year-old ex-steel worker to be prescribed... NOT an overweight stay-at-home mom. Notice how I didn't say "homemaker?" It's because I don't have any pride in my home anymore and I don't do shit around here. I used to be able to blame my family for the state of my home because I worked on it everyday, hard. Even after I started getting sick (topic for another time) I worked and worked to maintain our home, but I could never keep up with the four other people who would unceasingly trash it and leave it for me to clean alone. Eventually I just gave up, and never found the motivation to take that problem on again. My house is unfit to live in. Not quite "Hoarders" or "4 Children Removed From Deplorable Pig-Sty" bad, but I wouldn't think YOU were a very good parent if your home looked the way mine does. I fight with feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, loneliness, and self-hatred everyday. I resent my husband and children, sure, but I also feel so guilty for becoming this... thing that I am. I've thought about suicide a time or two (or hundreds) but it's just not my style. Stubbornness is also one of my traits... and luckily for me and everyone I love, it's one that hasn't faded... yet.
Truth be told, I'm a pretty amazing person. I'm really honest, and am one of the most honorable people I know, even if a little hypocritical at times. I have creativity and talent and passion. I love fiercely and am loyal. I'm extremely forgiving and it takes probably more than it should to inspire hatred and distrust in me. I care about... everything; from politics to science to spirituality to the stories strangers have told me to the ecosystem and people in other coutries... I ponder and react to and dream about literally everything. I have few prejudices and a voracious appetite for knowledge and experience. And I'm willing to work hard... always have been. I enjoy physical labor and getting my hands dirty. I love accomplishing. I've never been accused of being an over-achiever, but lazy certainly wasn't the alternative ever. At the very least I was always functional. I want so much, and so little of that is material.
I wonder sometimes if the enormity of it all is what paralyzes me. There's just not enough time in the day to do it all so I do nothing. I can't save the world so why even sweep the kitchen? Well... there's where Portland comes in. Idaho is just not where I belong. I've tried to be here for a really long time, even after I didn't have to be anymore, but it's never changed. This is not my home. People tell me that moving to Portland is only going to change the geography but that I'll still have to deal with all my other issues just as if I had them here. Only, they're wrong. I can't explain why, but they just are.
Ok, so... I consider this first post to be a failure. It's rambling and incongruent and wholly too negative. This will not grab a significant readership and I am not satisfied with the length, content, nor flow of the entire thing. But I HAVE TO POST IT. This is where I start to change things. I can't let the perfect be the enemy of the good anymore. I have to do something and complete it. So... internet, bud! Here. Have another blog. Hopefully you'll start to get more of these from me with more interesting things to say. Tomorrow, I'm surprising my husband with an anime festival (huge step,) so maybe I'll have something to say about that.
Cheers!
So, without regard to audience, demographics, popularity, page views, etc... I must write. One of my favorite websites, Cracked.com had an article by David Wong that challenged it's readers to "do anything" this year that will make us better, more interesting people. I completely concurred with his premise that I have become a little too boring, a little too entitled to attention, and a little too auto-piloted in my daily doings, and he made me want to change that. Thank you, Mr. Wong. I accept your challenge. I'm going to create this blog. I'm going to create things, situations, and ideas worth reading about. I'm going to create a new path for myself. I'm going to move to Portland.
I used to have one hell of an imagination. Not anymore. See, my brain isn't currently able to function as it once did, and my personality has been grayed-out. I take a drug cocktail every morning that you might perhaps suspect a seasoned pro-athlete, or a 50-year-old ex-steel worker to be prescribed... NOT an overweight stay-at-home mom. Notice how I didn't say "homemaker?" It's because I don't have any pride in my home anymore and I don't do shit around here. I used to be able to blame my family for the state of my home because I worked on it everyday, hard. Even after I started getting sick (topic for another time) I worked and worked to maintain our home, but I could never keep up with the four other people who would unceasingly trash it and leave it for me to clean alone. Eventually I just gave up, and never found the motivation to take that problem on again. My house is unfit to live in. Not quite "Hoarders" or "4 Children Removed From Deplorable Pig-Sty" bad, but I wouldn't think YOU were a very good parent if your home looked the way mine does. I fight with feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, loneliness, and self-hatred everyday. I resent my husband and children, sure, but I also feel so guilty for becoming this... thing that I am. I've thought about suicide a time or two (or hundreds) but it's just not my style. Stubbornness is also one of my traits... and luckily for me and everyone I love, it's one that hasn't faded... yet.
Truth be told, I'm a pretty amazing person. I'm really honest, and am one of the most honorable people I know, even if a little hypocritical at times. I have creativity and talent and passion. I love fiercely and am loyal. I'm extremely forgiving and it takes probably more than it should to inspire hatred and distrust in me. I care about... everything; from politics to science to spirituality to the stories strangers have told me to the ecosystem and people in other coutries... I ponder and react to and dream about literally everything. I have few prejudices and a voracious appetite for knowledge and experience. And I'm willing to work hard... always have been. I enjoy physical labor and getting my hands dirty. I love accomplishing. I've never been accused of being an over-achiever, but lazy certainly wasn't the alternative ever. At the very least I was always functional. I want so much, and so little of that is material.
I wonder sometimes if the enormity of it all is what paralyzes me. There's just not enough time in the day to do it all so I do nothing. I can't save the world so why even sweep the kitchen? Well... there's where Portland comes in. Idaho is just not where I belong. I've tried to be here for a really long time, even after I didn't have to be anymore, but it's never changed. This is not my home. People tell me that moving to Portland is only going to change the geography but that I'll still have to deal with all my other issues just as if I had them here. Only, they're wrong. I can't explain why, but they just are.
Ok, so... I consider this first post to be a failure. It's rambling and incongruent and wholly too negative. This will not grab a significant readership and I am not satisfied with the length, content, nor flow of the entire thing. But I HAVE TO POST IT. This is where I start to change things. I can't let the perfect be the enemy of the good anymore. I have to do something and complete it. So... internet, bud! Here. Have another blog. Hopefully you'll start to get more of these from me with more interesting things to say. Tomorrow, I'm surprising my husband with an anime festival (huge step,) so maybe I'll have something to say about that.
Cheers!
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