Banner Week For Health Issues

I’m too tired to be clever with titles today. I’ve got a migraine, one that may have been kicked off as a result of the muscle relaxing injection I got at my 2nd Doc in the Box visit this week, or it might have just shown up because I’m stupid dehydrated and am doing very little to rectify that situation.

Yeah, I know. My own fault. Drink more water, get some more Gatorade or Pedialyte. Stop drinking soda.

Listen. I’m not allowed to have energy drinks for my migraines anymore, so I’ve got to have SOME form of caffeine. So get off my back. I have a soda with ice, a cup of ice, and a bottle of water to my right. I’m sure they will all be finished off before my first relief shows up.

My back isn’t as bad as it has been this week. I’m finally not about to cry because of the pain. Doctors are so terrified these days to prescribe anything painkillery, that those of us now have to suffer. Thanks to all the addict doctors and their addict friends and such assholery.

I can’t really get much of a break. Bad health week means I’m exhausted, in pain, and need extra rest to heal. I feel GUILTY about using my PTO that I’ve EARNED over the past 10 years, I don’t have any money and no real desire to work for a vacation, so I don’t claim much time for myself unless it’s Sick Days. But this week? I could actually use a span of time where I stay at home and take care of myself and my home.

But this week? This week starts the vacation exodus for the PART TIMERS. Who’ve already had MULTIPLE vacations this week. Spouses with money, don’t ya love it? Not at ALL bitter b/c I don’t get my birthday weekend off…I was just going to get a colonoscopy that weekend anyway. But my co-manager is off this weekend performing an act of kindness, so I can’t bitch too hard about that, but Minion 1 leaves on Sunday for a week, Minion 2 leaves on Thursday for about a week…and then expects to have more time off for certain other things. Which normally, I would be cool about, but these folks are not about respecting MY time, when I do all that I can to respect theirs. But I’m a salaried worker, so I should just be their slave instead of their manager, right? THAT’S why I get paid the Big Bucks* (*Big Bucks just = the same amount of money every pay period that’s all)

So yay for my birthday fun that will get pushed back a week? Oh probably not. I don’t do fun (well, last year was Waffles and an Escape Room, so that was fun, but maybe not this year). And I just want some time where I have very little responsibility except to myself. JUST FOR  A COUPLE OF DAYS.

But nope. I’ll be planning my revenge.

I’m cranky and hormonal and blathery. It shouldn’t take leaving early 4 days to get ONE sick day, yet this is how it goes.

Advertisements

My Last Nerve

Sciatica is the name of today’s game. I went to my favorite Urgent Care yesterday with a vague idea of having a UTI (b/c the idea was planted in my head), but it actually wasn’t a UTI. I’m extremely dehydrated. And my back is killing me. Yesterday it was at a 6, but it’s been at a 12 all day today, making it extremely difficult to move. I can’t stretch, I can’t bend or arch.

And of course, it’s all my fault. I haven’t had enough water, or things to replenish my electrolytes, and I went out in the heat the other day and sweat in weird places and lost all my water while looking through my storage closet. And I guess the moving of the boxes in that storage closet are actually what caused my sciatica to freak out.

So all of that is basically inflammatory to my whole body, which is causing what we believe to be Colitis to freak out as well. So my back and my gut and general being are being attacked.

I’m so so tired, but Nugget wants to go out…I’m thinking that our last tiny car trip to Cane’s for toast and chicken is our last outing for the day. So I’m back in bed, where I’ve been all day, icing and heating my back, chewing on ice, binging The Office. I had a nap earlier, but the two Flexeril I took before my nap are still making me a bit sleepy. I’m yelling about Angela’s baby, creepy Gabe, and wondering who the Scranton Strangler is while my doggo lies on the floor, waiting for her nemesis to appear.

I hope the nemesis stays where she is. I’m tired, and would like to sleep through the night. But that’s a joke. I get up and pee many times. I’m not well rested. Tomorrow is going to suck, for sure.

Bring it on.

There Is No Spoon…At Least, Not Today

I’m so tired. Like, about to fall asleep tired. And it’s all Summer’s fault. The heat triggers the bat signal for my CFS, and as a result, I’m sitting here at work, a little zombified. I did not want to get out of bed today. I didn’t want to wake up. My first alarm, 7:30, is a new addition to the phone’s alarm collection. When it went off, I could barely crack open my eyes. But I didn’t have to, not right then.

So alarm goes off an hour later, and I’m still extremely foggy and my eyes are closed. I try to cuddle with my dog for a little, but she’s ready to go out for a bit, so eventually I drag myself into a sitting position.

That right there? Took 3 spoons from my collection of 12 that I start out every day with. It took another 2 to get dressed and get the dog walked and get to work. The lower back pain I’m experiencing will take another one, so I’m down 50% and my day hasn’t even really begun yet.

Hence the reason I’m sitting at my work computer, waiting for a delivery, scrolling on Twitter or writing this. Or staring at the coconut yogurt I should be eating right now instead of the crushed Sonic ice.

I’ve been extra sensitive to extreme temperatures for the past couple of years, due to the Fibro and the CFS–who knew?–and I get extra freaking tired when it’s just hot. I was born in July, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy July. I used to practically live outside when I worked for Oklahoma Shakespeare in the Park, and the heat SUCKED. Like, bad, but I could take it.

I can no longer take it. I just can’t. I love air conditioning too much. I like being able to breathe, and not sweating out my eyeballs like I did yesterday.

Sunday I spent a couple of hours outdoors in a warmish pool. It was nice. Wasn’t insanely hot or sunny by the time we got out there, but it was fine. I got home and was EXHAUSTED. Yesterday, I go over to my storage unit on a mission, and I’m sweating in weird places, and heavily. I get back to work, drink a bottle of water, pee it out, and sit down, mostly fine.

TODAY, however is another story. Eyes glued shut, back killing me, knees creaking, junk in the lungs, no strength or energy to do much of anything. Including eating coconut yogurt.

I’d better get it in gear. I’ve got a trainee coming in at 11 and I’ve got to be able to entertain him with things to do.

 

I Want To Die

Let me rephrase. I FEEL like I want to die. I don’t think I actually do, though. I think that one of my meds is making my brain turn against me, which means I need to get rid of that medicine.

I am not normally a happy person. I’m a realist; I say what’s on my mind, usually the truth no one wants to hear.

Right now, though, I’m feeling very much like a fatalist.

I’ve been feeling Off for the past couple of weeks, and I’ve had two days so far where everything is TOO MUCH to deal with, and every worry I could ever have comes to the surface and ends with me sobbing all day through work.

Today is one of those days.

I’ve been crying over my dog (what happens to me if I die, and vice versa), my job (which is kind of in danger and I have absolutely no marketable skills other than selling booze), where I’m going to live in the future, getting a house with a yard for my dog….Pretty much everything.

My anxiety is through the roof right now and I have LOST my anti-anxiety meds. Yes, LOST a brand new prescription, which means I’ll have to go see my doctor to get a new prescription. Normally, that’s no problem, but I have anxiety about DRIVING as well, and my doctor isn’t in town, but 15 miles away, which is approximately a 30 minute drive (on back roads, because I cannot drive the highway with this anxiety). So I’m freaking out about that, too. So no meds to take care of that which is being caused by another med until I can get to the place that can give me meds. Make sense?

So I have to wait a few more days to get this taken care of. I had a buddy help me out with some Ativan, and that started to make me feel normal, for about 3 days. But I can’t ask someone else with anxiety to give up their meds for me, not when they need them as well.

I just have to wait, and hope that I can make it through these few days, hope that I can stop bawling over my dog, the future, nothing, everything, and hope that I can stop being afraid of all of this stuff.

This is what is happening with me right now. I am aware, I [mostly] KNOW what is wrong right now. But that doesn’t make it any better. I’m trying to breathe and get through this, and there are people who have offered their emotional support, and I am so so SO blessed (yes, blessed) to have these people in my corner.

So thanks for understanding what’s going on with me. If you don’t see much from me, this is why.

When The Fog Rolls In…The Terror Begins #TBT

I can’t bear to go back and watch this mess again. I remember just being absolutely out of it and rambling. There’s a seed or two here and there, I’m sure, that will pop up again, but I just recently had the realization that this nonsensical babbling is a symptom of the actual problem, which I only figured out this spring/summer.

This was how I spent a good chunk of my days: out of it, tripping over my tongue, brain just unable to give me the information I needed. I did a really horrible job being a manager. By doing nothing, I passed the torch, thereby causing a whole passel of trouble. But I really had no idea what was going on. I just thought I was really, really depressed for some reason, and maybe just needed my meds adjusted. Well, I was, and I did. But that wasn’t all.

[Not] Only The Shadow Knows [I’m Fat] #TBT 2015

So hey, guys. I’m not sure if you know, I’m I am fat. I am a fat fat fatty fat fat. I’ve been pudgy since I was 7 or so, 2nd grade. Not sure what switch flipped, because I was a cute little kid, skinny as a rail.

Maybe it was all that depression from [currently redacted] and emotional and stress eating bc the parents did nothing but fight. Hm.

 

Well, anyway, I KNOW I’m fat. I’m ME. I’m INSIDE here. And guess what? All the diet plans in the world, all the pills in the world, all the exercise in the world…NONE OF IT WORKS FOR ME.

But the physicians I’ve been going to see me and immediately think I need to drop 50-60 pounds and I would be Healthy AF.

Being at 250 for most of my life, once close to 270, also once close to 200 even, I understand that I would be healthier if I could drop some weight.

I AM 40 YEARS OLD. DO THEY NOT THINK I WOULD HAVE DONE IT BY NOW IF I COULD?

I have been one of the most active fat people I know. I’ve taken dance classes, yoga, I stage managed for a million years, I’ve crewed hundreds of theatre shows, running with swords backstage, down stairs, up stairs…

But all that weight HAS caused some problems in my feet. I have stress fractures (among other really bad things) in both feet, and a good chunk of my day is spent wincing from the walking-on-broken-glass pain.

240px-walking_on_broken_glass

So yeah. I’m 225-230, I’m constantly on the move, but constantly exhausted, AND am also constantly in pain. So walking my dog is a killer, and I would love to be able to go for a distance without nearly crying from pain. Yoga is done while I’m in bed, because I’ve got torn tendons and ligaments in my right foot at the moment. On an average day, I walk 5 miles: at work, and also while walking the dog. I’m also lifting at work, and my dog pulls, so there’s resistance training involved, too.

But my last doctor and dietician (omg HA) wanted me to get my heart rate up an hour per day and keep moving, even inside, and (OF COURSE) do YOGA because YOGA CURES EVERYTHING.

 

<YO. I didn’t draw those (check the artist, Gemma Correll).>

 

It’s currently 2017. It took me 2 years to realize weight bias was a thing. But it definitely is. It’s been the first thing with the last three doctors I’ve been with. Put me on Contrave, which was a very expensive, but amazing product, that kinda screwed me over once I couldn’t afford it anymore. Then, after Contrave, the next doc gave me Phentermine, which did nothing but send me on a sugar binge that I’m just now coming out of, and make me talk really fast and really loud, and crash at the end of the day.

My last doctor recommended yoga. For everything. Pain management, gut issues, migraines, cramps, drought, acne, my GOD someone write a PAPER.

Oh wait. There are literally MILLIONS of books stating how good yoga is for your body, not to mention your mind. I believe it. I’ve been there. I’ve been STUCK in the very first pose before. Have I mentioned my injured feet, the DDD in my back, the arthritis in my spine? I can’t always move. And when I DO move, I’m always moving. And I’m not sure how, because I’m ALWAYS exhausted…

Well, most of the time. I’m currently experiencing a renaissance of sorts. One of many things happening to me right now is that I feel like a normal human being. Which is not correct, because rarely do I ever feel that way. That might be the Abilify kicking in, filling in empty spots in my brain. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice. I’m getting tons of stuff done. But I’m also waking up before dawn like I’m a person who does that, which I am not, and does stuff. Like, I’m wide awake. For instance, I was wide awake at 3:45 this morning and I painted my nails in the dark. And it looks like I was painting my nails in the dark at 3:45 am.

I also joined the #5AmWritersClub on Twitter on Monday morning. I actually edited and rewrote parts of a story I’ve been working on for a few years. I’m cleaning things, I’m organizing things…

I feel KIND of like the Oldish Me, but like…on LSD and Steroids. Way too loud and cheerful. I’m wondering if this is just another personality that’s trying to pop out. I don’t have time for that. There’s no room left.

Anyway, when I’m not exhausted and in bed all the time, the pendulum swings for the highest high. There are rarely any happy mediums. Plenty of grumpy ones, but not many happy ones.  So I’m going to enjoy what I’ve got, and maybe I’ll do some yoga for FUN.

But probably not, since my back is in spasm and my hip is out of place.