I got a new doctor and a new dentist and I no longer have a therapist but that's fine. I've been doing well wihout her.
I trashed my knee in June (I got out of bed, left leg was numb and it slid until I did the splits), but recovered in two weeks, two weeks less than expected.
I'm now volunteering at a library book store. It's two hour shifts. I can finally get some reading done in peace and quiet. Plus the books are super cheap ($1.50 for hard cover, $1 for paperback).
And now, the best news, starting with awful news. Because I take lithium, I have to have my blood tested, to make sure my liver's okay. The recent results I got? My kidneys are working at 50%. The main culprit is the lithium, so my psychiatrist said I have to get off it. I'm almost comletely off it and I've noticed something wonderful - I don't have hand tremors anymore. I've had hand tremors for almost 10 years. I first noticed the change when I ate rice with a fork and it didn't shake off all over the place. I can hold a plate. I stood in place and held a mug and stirred the hot cocoa with a spoon. (I couldn't hold a cup of hot anything and walk it anywhere without viciously shaking and spilling it before). I could hold my church booklet and I was able to read it without it jumping everrywhere. These seem like ordinary, everyday things to anyone else, but they're bloody miracles to me.
I'm down with the depression again and still have no therapist (still on maternity leave, and they don't have anyone filling in all that time).
I need new CPAP supplies but they say I'm not covered but they'll call some company for me that does coverage and yeah, it's been 6 days and no one's called me back.
Also because of this new stupid health plan I'm on, I can no longer see my doctor, who I like a lot. The insurance people gave me phone numbers for two doctors that are covered in my town. I've yet to go play phone tag with them.
There's somthing wrong with my eyesight, I can stay focused on anything. Which makes reading and knitting a real bitch. I don't see the eye doctor til Feburary, provided the damned insurance covers it.
And to that the empty feeling of depression, where I hardly go online anymore because it just doesn't do it for me... I'm a sad,m tired thing, oh my little pumpkins.
I am so behind in my Christmas duties. I haven't wrapped anything yet. Yesterday, I finally brought the tree up from the cellar and after a fight with it, got it standing. Not decorated mind you, but at least it's out of the cellar. Ma has begun baking a ton of cookies and breads.We've been watching Christmas movies everfy night for about two weeks now. Well, I've been watching, Ma keeps falling asleep.
Hello, pumpkins. Not a lot has haappened in the past two months. Even though it's Summer, the weather feels like Autumn. Which I don't mind a bit. Brother had his 50th birthday this year. Mine's coming up in a few years. I already feel old since I can't get pregnant anymore (hysterectomy last year took care of that). Ma was talking about babies and I just wanted to throttle her since I can't have any. Not that I was planning on having any, but you knew you still could if you wanted. But it was either cancer or get rid of the lady bits, and I wasn't too crazy with the idea of cancer in me.
Gave blood today. First time in ages. Simply put, we never ggot around to it, which is really odd, since we used to do it like clockwork. Also donated some toys from my childhood to a 2 year old boy who lives on the other side of the fence. So long, McDonald's and Weeble treehouse! Have fun new adventures!
Hi everyone. Lately it's been crazy go nuts. I'm on my laptop, so I don't have any photos of my receent adventures. Sorry. I've done everything from go to a classic car show to going to a wedding anniversary party to chillin at my SILs to attending an illegal ash dispersing to keeping track of a wild mama turkey and her baby turkeys when they walk through our yard. But the biggest adventure happened on Mother's Day.
Picture it: The day before Mother's Day. We're driving home from doing chores. Suddenly, the area about my waist band feels tight and oh so owie. We get home and Ma asks me what I want for dinner. I say nothing because of the pain. She decides broth would be best and dissolves a boullion cube. It is the nastiest, saltiest "brother" ever. I can't finish it. In fact, I hurl it all up. Ma notes that she doesn't like the idea of me vomiting. A little later, she tried a grilled cheese sandwih. That I can stomache eating. Except I can't and threw it up as well. Ma has enough of this vomiting business (never mid my waist killing me) and drags my butt off into the late night to a hospital.
After quick examination in the nurses station (we don't even make it to triage), there's sure I have an enflamed appendix. They give me a cat scan and after hours waiting in a little room, they come in and decide that I need to have my appenix removed. NOW. And so went Mother's Day, having my appendix removed and its bile removed. They didn't say anything until much later that they knew from the cat scat that my appendix had frigging RUPTURED aand stuff was oozing out of it. I could've died if I didin't go to the hospital when I did. Not that it mattered much. They had me on oxycodone and all I seemed to do was fall asleep every three seconds. But everything was better and Ma said her Mother's Day gift was me still being alive (albeit zombiefied).
Last night, I had a Hamlet dream. It took place near the end of the play. Except it was a little different.
Leartes had had enough with this mental prince who offed his dad, which resulted in his sister dying. He put Hamlet in a small cage (like a human could stand in it, and that's all for room) at gun point. Then he took him out to the sea, where his demanded answers for what happened. Except the moment Hamlet opened his mouth and got about three words out, Leartes would have him dunked - and I mean, kept him underwater a LONG time - and let him back up. This went on for ages. Then they went back to the castle, Leartes finally gets fed up with Hamlet trying to talk, and shoots him. Dies instantly with his eyes open. Someone asks, "What shall we do with the body?" and Leartes says, "I don't care, the fucking bastard."
We seem to be off to a good start. In November, Ma tripped down stairs outside of church. She was out of commision for weeks, while I did all the chores til I thought I'd go insane. Then one day, I was bending over the bed, reaching out to my dog, and I promptly threw out my back for three weeks. We're not doing well.
This summer I had the thrilling adventure of having a hysterectomy after precancerous cells were found in my uterus. Lately I've had the thrill of a giant bill (over $2,000) that, despite half being covered by Medicare, the hospital seems to refuse to believe that fact. Am also getting help possibly - If I'm accepted - to cover the rest of the bill.
Besides that? Let's say I'm broke because I have to help Ma out more with the bills. She got a new car (2017), but with the new car came a new car price that she couldn't pay on her own. Both of us being so broke means no presents for Christmas. Which I suppose leads one to be more religious for the holiday, and isn't it about Jesus in the first place. Still. Woulda been nice to give at least one gift to everybody.
I'm still on my knitting spree, working between three shawls (one for me, the other two being prayer shawls) and making prayer patches, which is crocheting.
I might mention that it's finally gettin cold and windy, as it always does at the last week of October. Predictable as fog on Christmas morning.
I've been to Providence about a hundred and eighty five times. The reason: To see a doctor and go to a hospital to have a hysterectomy. It seems there was precancerous cells growing, and I didn't like that and thought, "Getting rid of body parts I'm not using won't bother me any." Due to a high pain tolerance, I didn't need any kind of drugs that smack you back to the stone age. So now I have five scabs with stitches sticking out, covered with a "glue", on my stomach. I'm not allowed to lift anything over 10 pounds (there goes hugging my doggie for a while), so I can't lug my laundry anywhere. Otherwise, except for one scab over my belly button driving me crazy, I'm doing very well. Ma, however, is a stressed out mess, doing my chores as well as hers.