Restarting the Project

I started, but didn't complete the photographs I had planned on taking. I suppose I have no one to blame but myself, however in my defense... Feeling out of it, generally shitty and having to take and edit photos on top of dealing with the Holidays.... My mind goes elsewhere, as in hibernation, and I slacked off. I didn't post a photo a day like I was going to.

So here's the project for this year. Starting the first of February, I will post for this project again. I'm officially calling it the 52 week project... But if I can somehow juggle everything, and get a photo a day done... Than great... I will do such. The biggest motivators for me are putting me into something I know I have to get done. This will be one of those items.

I'm not sure where I'm going next with this disability battle... I have a feeling I may be taking action against both the disability company that has now twice denied me benefits, and the doctor who overdosed me on some seriously bad medication without a second thought. Indeed, this is the same doctor who claimed "Nothing is wrong" with me. Really sir, you're telling me the picture below tells you... There's nothing wrong with me?

Let me tell you something. Just because an injury doesn't present itself immediately after trauma, doesn't mean there isn't anything there or wrong. In some cases, it can take quite a long time for a problem to present itself... As it's done with me.

Just because you have a degree from some bullshit medical school, and the fact that you most likely kissed ass during your residency at Mass General doesn't mean you know what my body is feeling and telling me based upon one consultation. My biggest question is if you thought nothing was wrong, why was I put on a seizure controlling and pain management medication- on a dose that would cause damage to an adult?  Personally, asshole, I think it's because you get kickbacks from insurance and disability companies to give false information so the claims are denied.

Luckily, I believe in Karma. And trust me, what goes around will come around.

And you'll face what you've done to not only me, but how ever many other patients you've left dangling in the breeze.

As for the disability company which will remain nameless for the time being... I should have trusted the opinions and facts left in countless forums online absolutely bashing you for the careless, inconsiderate and cold way you treat us disabled people.

That's enough of a rant for now.

Oh, and on a funny side note. I was watching TV late one night last week, and my Ma and I happened to catch an episode of Judge Joe Brown. One of the cases involved a woman who was not only white trash, but was on full disability. She didn't appear to have anything wrong- there was no outward signs of an evident disability. When questioned what she had received full coverage for.... I hit the roof.

She's dyslexic.

I can see how it might be a reading, or speech, problem she may have. But her temper got the best of her, and she was slinging words around like the best of 'em. Luckily the Judge shut her up... But really?

I have a four inch thick file documenting problems I've had with my back for the past 5 years, and the additional mountain of forms my Doctor has been kind enough to fill out. It's been determined that the crash I was in back in March of 2007 hastened the genetic disposition I have to Arthritis and Degenerative Disc Disease in the lumbar area of my back. It's also been noted that I have Failed Back Syndrome- even though I have not had surgery, it can still be diagnosed- and it's the reason I'm in the state I am now.

You try walking around, and feeling your spine slip and slide out of place.

You feel what it's like to have one of the vertebrae "pop", and make an audible sound.

You take an hour in the morning to stretch before getting out of bed.

You deal with the medications, the paperwork, the bullshit red tape.

I'll tell you what though.... You picked the wrong person to make "go away".

I'm not going to do it. I haven't thus far, and I'm sure not going to start now.

Can't Touch, Disgusted

If I could just crawl into a hole, and hibernate for a few months, then come out completely healed... I would do it in a heartbeat. The travel we had this past weekend was rough- spending at least 13 hours total riding while we had family things to deal with. It was a surprise birthday party for my Dad's cousin, and it was pretty great to see relatives I haven't seen for a long time... And to be reintroduced to those whom I didn't remember- yes, it's been that long. All in all, it was wonderful to see everyone again. The food was great, the company was so much fun- and we need to do it more often.

On to the issues at hand, however, and where I go from here regarding my back injury. I had another appointment earlier this morning with my Doctor to discuss paperwork and where we go from here concerning my denied disability benefits. Needless to say- he was disgusted with what we discussed and had shown him. Instead of having Dr. C being the one they collected information from, they instead latched on to M as if he were the "be-all end-all" doctor in my bubble for a diagnosis. Countless times I had to tell the company handling my claim that M wasn't my doctor, was not treating me, and was simply a consultant to rule out any neurological problems. Well- he not only ruled it out... He made some comments that were completely off base, and others that were flat out lies- but which the claim handlers jumped on board that and said "See! Nothing is wrong!"......

Forgotten amongst all of this is the fact that M was only consulted with and seen for neurological purposes- problems that may stem inside this noggin of mine. There are none, which I'm happy to report. However- he offered many of his personal observations and opinions as fact- which doctors are not supposed to do. Based upon this bogus information, even though it's strictly against policy of the claims department for accepting opinions as fact, they did indeed deny my claim. They're banking on me giving up, getting so frustrated at the run around, get more information, need one more paper, gotta have this too- will make me throw up my hands, scream in frustration and say "I give up.". Well, folks.... I do not feel well. It's difficult for me to sit comfortably, walk well, sleep soundly, and look healthy. But I will not give up. It's not in me, the fabric of the person I've been made into, to simply give up. No.

I fight- for what I need, for what I want. There are few exceptions I simply drop it and walk away- but those are more complicated, and not part of this affliction. This back problem will not last forever. Giving up is not an option I recognize. So I will file the papers, I'll complete the appeal. I'll continue to get treatment from my Doctor C who knows this condition- and has no doubt that it's severe. He couldn't touch me today- the spasm is back so bad, I was tightening up involuntarily as he was trying to feel where my bones were. Of course, they out of place. But with the spasm still holding- he can't do much. He couldn't move me to get them back into place- so another shot in my bum, anti-inflammatory and steroid to bring down swelling, next week we'll try again. Meanwhile I'm back home, in my recliner, dopey because of the Valium, and uncomfortable because I can feel where my bones are out and it hurts. These dang ligaments need to heal.

Savella is the new medication I've been on for about 3 weeks. It's significantly helped me with the pain, better than the overdosed Neurontin thanks to M. I'm not as foggy and sluggish, though I'm still finding myself antisocial. My new goal over the next few days is to get back in touch with everyone I've not been talking to. According to Dr C, we're finally making progress- even though he couldn't fix me today. It's slow- and it's painful- but it's forward moving. He was disgusted by some of the comments of the report from M, and in order to get the claim re-evaluated for me, he's going to write a very detailed letter on my behalf. I'm also doing one of my own, of course with help from my parents because I'm not exactly Little Miss Understandable lately... I can type these mundane words out, since it's fairly simple... But to be detailed, pick apart a report, and ask questions that need to be answered with specifics... I'm not up to task to do that alone yet. My mind just is boggled trying to juggle what needs to get done. Together, it will be done though.

I feel bad for losing contact with so many people- but chronic, debilitating pain is no walk in the park. You may think it's fun to be able to sit home all day, with nothing to do but look out a window, poke around online, play with pets. It's boring. It's hermity. I thought for the longest time I just wanted to be left alone to my own devices- I don't need anyone but me. How wrong I was. I miss social interactions, but considering the fact that I still can't drive kind of puts a damper on things for me. I have to rely on other people either picking me up, or taking along one of my parents with me for a short jaunt. I'm not a fan of potholes or bumps in the road- it kinda hurts. So... My butt stays parked in the recliner, usually a blanket, a cup of tea and one of water, and this computer on my lap. I don't have all the time in the world to be calling people, talking. It just takes so much energy out of me- nevermind actually going out. It sucks. The worst part? I catnap on and off most of the day. Now this new medication keeps me a bit more lucid- but still... The other ones I'm on still make me sleepy. I forget things. More like... Everything. Unless I write it down, chances are I'll forget. So even if I do say "Hey, I need to call so-and-so later...", typically I'll fall asleep for a while, and wake up and do something else. By the time I go to bed, I remember that I forgot to call... And forget the next day too. It's awful. I need a sticky pad surgically attached to my arm or something. For now, I need to sign off and take a nap... The Valium really takes all the energy out of me I have. I'll be back later.

Hollow Rabbit and Lies

It's like I'm stuck inside a shell. Like one of those chocolate rabbits you get for Easter... You take a bite and it crumbles into little shards below where your teeth bit into it. Some make it to your mouth, where intended... And little shards you try and catch with your hands as they fall. I don't feel like a chocolate rabbit. I feel like I'm empty.

I do mundane things.

I'm bored and not interested in many of my hobbies. I sit down, start to work, and quickly frustrated- it goes right back in the box or wherever I'm storing it. It sucks. I wish I had the creative energy I once did. In time- it will be back.

In a nutshell, the new medication my trusted and wonderful Dr. C put me on seems to be helping. Pain wise, I'm still having it, but not as pronounced. Today's a different story though- since it's raining... I woke up in knots, and just taking it as easy as I can. A day at a time.

I'm pretty upset, as I found out yesterday the "neurosurgeon" that I had consulted with, and only saw twice, wrote up a completely bogus report- which in turn has cost me my short term benefits. (don't worry, I plan to appeal this decision) It insinuates that I'm lying about my back problem, whining about an injury, mentally stable and coherent (even though I'm heavily medicated and sedated to battle the amount of pain I'm currently in), completely capable to carry out all my work duties (mind you, driving to work is a requirement.... I haven't been behind the wheel of my vehicle since April when my parents emergency-picked me up and whisked me home), walk around holding on to Mom and Dad for "emotional, not physical need", and that I have nothing wrong. Nothing wrong. Really? That's great in a way- because this doctor was a consultation only, another opinion to rule out any neurological problems I may have. So if it's not neurological, that's the good news... And I no longer need to consult with him. However- the company took his one "sound byte" of "nothing wrong" as the basis to deny my claim- even though this "doctor" was not the one treating me long term. Despite all the other numerous, documented and supporting evidence from my Dr. C that there is a severe problem with my back, and  the delayed diagnosis was tough because he literally couldn't touch me. Oh, did I also mention that M lied and said I "refused treatment"? Oh yes he did. He wanted an MRI of my head, and it couldn't be done because of my braces. He sat with me, face to face, and  asked how soon they were supposed to come off. I said about a year, and I would prefer to not remove them because it's painful, and also close to 1k to do. I candidly explained I don't have that kind of money sitting around, waiting for me to spend, and I'm also unable to work because of the medication, and needed to come home for proper care. He sat there, pondered for a moment, then said it was ok- there are other avenues we can take. However, in his report it was recorded that I denied his treatment and refused to do what he asked, so a diagnosis wasn't available. Seriously?!

Nothing wrong at all though? That's funny... Because my regular Dr. C is strongly disagreeing about that. I've since fired M's ass from treating me. I want nothing further to do with him, his office, or any associates of his. Among more lies, apparently I'm able to swim efficiently and without problems. Let me state for the record- I've been to the river a grand total of 2 times this summer. One, I waded into the water up to my waist, and lo and behold my leg once again gave out while I was standing there. However, since I was in water, I tipped over, floated and was able to regain my footing using my left foot- since I couldn't feel my right. I stayed there until I had feeling returned, and then went back to shore and dried off. The other time involved me floating in a raft for a short distance, pulled by my sister most of the time, and I was seated the entire time other than to get in and out of it. Now how did this doctor come to his conclusion that I was able to swim with wonderful mobility?? He saw the rash I had on my hands- asked about it. I said it was probably from a dead tree I accidentally touched when I fell while in the river for the first time- it was an allergic reaction I had to whatever slimy grossness was growing on said tree, and after about 3 days, it was gone.  I said nothing of swimming. This "doctor" is amazing folks- he deduced that because I waddled out into the water and touched a tree- I'm ready for the Olympic swim team this year. "diagnosis". In fact, M gave me no real diagnosis at all. He medicated me. Content to keep me on a high and dangerous dose of epileptic medication- keep in mind I do not have any problems with seizures. Never have. So

The dirty truth. Any distance further than the kitchen or bathroom, I take my cane. Yes folks- I have a cane. I finally broke down and bought one because my falling episodes were still quite frequent. I balked at the idea, refused, then finally decided it was safer for me to have assistance walking since a) Dad, Mom and my little sister wouldn't be able to walk me everywhere, b) not using a sword cane because it can't be brought into the hospital (even that one I didn't want to use), c) found that having it to lean on helps me move a little faster, and d) catches me if my leg gives out and I start to fall. I'm able to recover by shifting my weight to my left foot, and using the cane to keep me upright until I regain feeling. I don't fall all the way down and re-injure myself. I've caught myself in places where if I had fallen completely to the ground, there would have been a good chance my head would have hit something- and folks, I really don't want a concussion or any other head injury. I sucked up my pride, and I walk with a cane. I hate having anything that could give away the fact that I have chronic asthma... Now all of a sudden it's "hip" and "cool" to be walking around with assistance- so I bought it for fun?! Get real. It's needed. The walker, however, I vowed to destroy before venturing into public with that blasted thing. Cane was the compromise. Now when I'm old and decrepit, and need assistance walking around... Then, and only then, will I take up the walker. And I want a blinged-out basket on the front to store things in... Like Fig Newtons, cell phone, tissues, and hand sanitizer. Maybe even a cookie or two, but always in there will be a bar of chocolate. No ifs, ands or buts about it.

I'm patiently waiting. I'm playing by the rules, doing everything I can in order to fix myself up and be ok again. I'm quickly coming up on 6 months of being in this pain. I just want it gone. I want the spasm gone. I don't want to need these medications, the cane, being around someone 24/7 in case I fall. (which I'll happily report since being on the new medication, is happening less frequently now... though yesterday morning I fell coming down our stairs- I was on the last few and managed to pitch backwards and catch myself on my hands. yes, it hurt) I've submitted the paperwork, gone to the Dr's, and a total quack, and finally when the light at the end of the tunnel nears- I get slapped with this shock. It remains the same... A day at a time, and I'll get there. Keep on moving- I'll get there. I just need to remind myself sometimes. Well, ok, often. But I'm not alone. I have all of you- my family, my friends.

In the Right Direction...

My fingers are crossed- we may have finally found the right path.

After having almost no luck with the "neurologist" I had been seeing, I decided he's no longer going to be treating me. I don't consider acceptable treatment giving me medication, upping the dose, and not really giving me any clear diagnosis as to what he thinks may be wrong. Putting a "Band-Aid" over the "wound" in the form of over-medicating me is not finding the reason the problem is happening- it's an excuse to keep me medicated and masking the pain. Not fixing it. The theory for the time being had been adult shingles without the rash. While it's certainly possible that I may have had it- for one, I've already had a BAD case of chicken pox (thank you MIKE, love you darling brother) when I was in 5th grade or something like that. So I was little, but not like... 5 years old. Secondly, shingles almost always presents itself with a rash somewhere on the body. In rare cases, it will not. However- the interesting fact I found out while researching and confirmed by my awesome Dr. C Thursday was that shingles is not what I have. Anyways, this "neurologist" was about as friendly as a week old rotted cold fish- and his front office staff wasn't much better.

I was supposed to have an MRI on my head, to see if anything neurological was wrong, but we couldn't get the images because my (NEW) braces ghosted out the image and made it impossible for the machine to take a picture. Once told, Dr. M said "Well take them off, have the MRI and then get them placed back on. I need to see that picture." My retort was "Well, are you going to pay to have them removed and replaced? It's a few thousand dollars that I don't have right now."

His response was, "Well, how much pain are you in? Let's increase the dose. I have a medicine that will take care of the spasm, but we'll get the pain under control first." Weeks later, he's got me on orders to up the dosage of Neurontin from 600mg a day, to 900mg, to 1200mg, and finally to 1500mg. You want to talk about useless?? The reason I've not been so present online, or taking my pictures for my project, is because I felt like I was underwater- every day basically staring at this screen- but not typing, not checking sites, drifting in and out of sleep. At that highest dose, it felt like I was scuba diving with an empty tank. I was sluggish, completely unmotivated, only lucid in the mornings before my meds- and in a lot of pain still. Dr. M was still convinced that it was shingles, but offered to bring his "nerve machine" up to test me. I will not be going back to him. Oh- did I mention that the highest considered safe dose of Neurontin an adult is supposed to take is 1200mg? Yeah... I was on 1500mg, and he wanted to increase it again... Which would have meant 1800mg a day. I don't think so.

What's this mean? That the problem I'm having with falling down suddenly, without warning, and the fact that I have the spasm right above my right hip, which can't be touched with anything but light fingertips... Leads that shingles theory to a big fat death. The nerve cluster at your pelvis/hips is a network of many, many nerves. There's no way shingles would attack multiple nerves. Statistically it's impossible... One nerve, yes. Two- very rare cases. More? It's not shingles.

Where does that leave me?

Each time I've seen my doctor, my back has been out of alignment. Once fixed, it typically will last a few days and then I'm right back to feeling my lower back move around, a pop, and severe pain. My bones slip right back out of place. It happened right after Dr. C was able to adjust me on Thursday- and last night, I felt it slip out when I was slightly leaning over to pick up my cup of water. A Domo cup from 7eleven. Not heavy or anything- POP!

Anyways... The diagnosis is Failed Back Syndrome.

Typically, people develop this after back surgeries- of which I've had none. What we've determined is that after my car accident in March 2007, and then falling down the stairs right after Christmas that same year... I've stretched and torn the hell out of my ligaments in my lower back. I had been seeing an awesome chiropracter which helped me immensely, but for whatever unknown reason back in March the spasm settled in and I've been hypersensitive ever since. It will not release, even with the medications and small adjustments. Well, I should say the old medications. I've now been put on a new one that will, fingers crossed, help keep the majority of the pain at a bearable level. On a scale from 1-10, when I came home in March I was well over 10. With the treatments I've had so far, I've been a consistent 4-7, depending on the day. This new medication I'm holding pretty good at a 3-4, sometimes a 5. I think it also has to do with the other few ones I've been kept on as well, and combined it seems to be helping.

I am, however, still pretty unmotivated to really do much of anything. The new medicine is also an anti-depressant, though it isn't used to treat depression. I've been down- but hell... Wouldn't you be too if you were in constant pain, 24/7 since March with limited relief? I'm not really depressed as much as I am  frustrated. I don't feel depressed. I feel pain. Lots of it. And looking forward to getting this under control. It also builds up the casings of the nerves in the body in order to bring the nerve pain down- which is what we're going for. And so far, so good. It seems to be working. We're also hoping that with this medication, it will help my Dr to adjust me and have my back stay in place. The only side effect I've noticed is that I'm pretty tired, but I don't sleep, and at night I have a very difficult time getting to sleep unless I stay up so late that I pretty much just konk out. I don't like 2 or 3am bedtimes though.

The pain won't be around forever... And I'm optimistic to say goodbye to it!

I want to start yoga, or pilates. I have to wait- because too much movement right now will make me relapse right back to before. So it's more of the sitting around, not doing much of anything. That's what's, aggravatingly, going to heal me.

Now, if this doesn't go as expected or results are too slow, there's another option. I'm not really, totally looking forward to having to do this... However, if it's needed I'll do it. It's called Prolotherapy. In a nutshell, since my ligaments are so loose my lower vertebrae are moving around wherever they want in there- which they're not supposed to do- I may have to go this route. I'd have an injection that would purposely inflame the ligaments so my Dr can do an adjustment and have my bones stay in the position they're supposed to be in. Drawback??? The fact that this shot will leave me with a burning, stinging pain for about a week. And typical treatment for an area is 4-6 sessions. Oh joy. However- considering that I've put up with 5 months of this shit already... I think I can handle it. Heh, I know I can. This is only an option if this new medication doesn't work, or my body after some time doesn't firm up and keep my vertebrae in place.


I hope this explains a little bit as to why I've been absent.
I just haven't had the heart, the motivation, the drive to really do much of anything. Pain can be so debilitating. I know people mean well when they tell me I can do it, that I'll get past this, I just need to dig in harder and not let it get to me. You know what... It's hard to do that. It's so hard to get out of bed in the morning, because it hurts. It's so hard to try and focus on what I want to do in the near future- I can barely think forward to what I want for lunch most days. Well, scratch that... Dinner. I don't really eat that much anymore because of these medications. I've dropped 40lbs since coming home, and I'm losing more. I forget to eat breakfast, and lunch. Sometimes I'll snack in the afternoon, and dinner is small. I've lost weight, just not the "good" way. But it's staying off. It's hard to see people out walking around- I can hobble to a bench if I need to. I can't go shopping. I have a hard time moving around. I can't pick anything heavy up. I risk throwing my back out if I bend too low to pick something up. Twisting the wrong way will do it too. I miss fishing, camping, hanging out with my friends doing stupid things. Going to an amusement park, riding the rollercoasters. Walking around downtown and barhopping. Normal things that don't require a lot of effort. But to me... They take up nearly all my energy.


The thing I hate the most is people telling me to just block it out, get over it, suck it up and just deal with it. To them... I have a few profanities I'll scream in their face. Until you deal with pain like this, constantly, every day little to no relief and no answers coming from the so-called "professionals" (with the exception of my awesome Dr. C) and being over-medicated because they want you doped up- I don't think you'd survive an hour.  At this point, I think birthing a child without medication would be a walk in the park for me. And yes, that was a joke. Otherwise, most folks have been incredibly supportive and offered me surprisingly more hope and encouragement than I ever expected.


So to all my friends- thank you so much for offering your kindness.
You have no idea how appreciated it is.
And  yes... This does mean I'll be resuming my photography project.

Sorry...

I haven't posted pictures for the past few days.

I'm still trying to get used to the medication change, and well... It's knocking me on my butt. I'm feeling exhausted, tired, underwater and out of control. The pain, at least, is numbed for the most part at this point. The spasm is still there- 12 more days and I'll have been like this for 5 months. Too long.

It's amazing what a little makeup can do though... I can "paint my face", and I look healthy. I'd take more before/after pictures- but I really don't want to scare people. The bags under my eyes are getting a deeper black/blue. They're puffier lately too which I've noticed. I need to moisturize more than I have been- I'm getting laugh lines at the corner of my eyes, and underneath. But it's alright I suppose... I'm aging. I still look young. When I get back to my good days, I'll feel young. I'll act young... Wait, I don't need to wait for that. I already do. I've figured out that applying the same primer that I use on my eyelids- to get eye shadow to stick and stay all day without smudging- is fabulous to use over these dark half moons under my eyes. The foundation sticks wonderfully. It conceals them almost completely... And I can do my makeup in such a fashion that I fool everybody. I look healthy- even though it's just a painted on mask. I'll be thankful for that at least- I can fool easily.

I've noticed that my leg almost cramps up before I fall- and anytime I feel that, I sit down. So I haven't fallen in 3 days already. That's the longest I've gone since this first started in March. I'd like it to just completely release and go- but I have a funny feeling it's just not going to be that easy. I'm also going to be looking for another doctor I believe- not my primary care, but the other one I've been "consulting" with. I've been like this for months too long. I should have had some sort of diagnosis other than "shingles without the rash". Well, I found out that 99% of people have that with at least a small rash for a short period of time when it first happens. It didn't to me. Nothing of the sort. I don't think it's that diagnosis. And now the "neurologist" I'm seeing is content to drag me on for months, increase the medication as I go, and "continue on my merry way".

I want to find the reason I feel this way. I want to find the cause. Taking more and more medicine, stronger doses as the weeks go by and I build up a tolerance for it, only masks the pain. It's not fixing it. It's like putting a band-aid over a deep puncture wound and saying "There! I fixed it!". No, that's not correcting the problem that there's a gaping hole that's bleeding like hell... That's not a fix. I don't want to continue to cover the symptoms I'm having- I want the pain gone (which, on this high dosage of Neurontin it's doing.. But leaving me foggy as hell) and not come back. I want the spasm to release, so I can walk normally. Sit without pain. Sleep without pain. It's all pain. Varying degrees, but still pain.

I've been trying to get my pictures up every day... I've been taking them, it's just a problem of when it gets to the end of the day, I'm so tired and worn out I just fall asleep. I don't do much. This bothers me. So many days, weeks, months. Lost. I can't rewind, get them back. But I will move forward- I'll find what's wrong. We'll find what's wrong. I'll be ok again- and soon. I just don't know what the key is- what's the way to get me back to normal. I don't have the answer to that question just yet- but I will soon. I hope.

Give Hugs... Even If You Think You Don't Have The Time

I'm venting this morning. It seems this week has harbored so much death, and I finally thought it was time to write about it.

A young teenage girl that I didn't know, but two of my friends did, was murdered over the last few days.
An 18 year old boy died from severe head trauma after a car accident at the beginning of this past week.
A 30 year old Navy Seal died from a parachute accident today. Today. The day hasn't even gotten going. Not really for me at least.
Two people, unidentified due to pending investigation, died in a plane crash in Maine yesterday.
21 year old Kelsey died after being ejected from her vehicle, then having a semi-truck hit her. The police believe she was using her phone as she drove yesterday.

Rest in peace Chloe, Suda, Tyler, Kelsy, and the two unidentified people in the plane crash. They each have names. They stay alive in our memories. For close friends and family, there are pictures, memories- they won't fade if you don't let them.

They all have names. They all have family who loved them. Friends who did too. It sucks, but the reports should be good.
Chloe should have been in the paper for having touched so many lives as I've heard- so sad that such a bright flame should be snuffed out so early.
Suda should have been in the paper for playing in the string trio, along with his mother and sister.
Tyler should have been in the paper for his standout leadership and actions in the war, and the accolades he received for serving his country.
The two people in the plane should have been in the paper for their own reasons.
Kelsey should have been in the paper for her accomplishments.

I'm on a rant here for a moment- we shouldn't have these deaths. They could have, for the most part, been avoided. Beyond things that are out of our hands and unavoidable- there's no reason all these people, children, had to die. But... Sometimes that's what fate has in store for us.

The moral of this post?
Hug your children close.
Give your parents a hug as you run out the house to go do something.
Hug your friends as you share a laugh. Or leave for the afternoon/evening.
Don't think it's embarrassing, you don't need to do it... Or that it makes you feel funny.
Life is precious, short. We never know when it will be taken.
Live the best you can with each day you've been given.
Love.
Never forget to love.

Still Unanswered Questions

No makeup. Pure, unedited pain. These are now my eyes.

Still marbled, and a touch of violet. But unable to really focus.

They go from blue, to gray to green. Depends on how much pain.

The violet always stays though. Little purple ring around my pupil.

I cry a lot. Without good reason. Or maybe it's for one, I'm not sure.

All I know for sure, I don't recognize me anymore.

I've more new medicines to take. It's incredible... With what I've already been medicated with- I should be doing backflips and theatrics for Barnum & Bailey's Circus. Or Cirque de Solelil. Either one. The fact of the matter is... I should be ok. I should be walking without problems, without a cane, without having to lean on my Dad or my sister or brother. I hate this.

I hate being with myself. I hate not being able to think clearly. I hate not being in control of ME anymore.

I know, in time, I'll be fixed.... But it's taking so long for things to get lined up and in order. Two months already, more than actually, and I'm still waiting. We can't figure out what's wrong. Why can't things just fall in to place as you do them? Does life really have to be so hard? I feel like I'm nearly to the end of the mythical rope... I know I'm really not, but it feels that way. It's just... I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired and medicated. It's the only way I have to control the pain, the spasms... But it's not improving. Rather, it has... Just slightly. All the medications, all the shots should have helped. Should have. I want to why they haven't.

I'm seeing a new doctor hopefully within the next week- and maybe he'll be able to tell me whether or not he can fix me. He's an Osteopath and Neurosurgeon. Don't get me wrong- my own doctor is wonderful. The man has magic hands- and typically he can have me fixed up in no time. I don't know what's different this one. We know what the end result is- torn ligaments, torn muscles, pinched and severely inflamed nerves. But the why is still elusive. Why I'm in so much pain. Why I'm not getting any better. Why all this resting in this blasted recliner day in and day out isn't helping me get better. Why none of this is helping even remotely.

It's like... I don't have any say in my body anymore. It does what it wants, when it wants. I haven't driven my own truck since April 16th. I haven't gone out with any of my friends. I really can't.... Though I'd like to. I want to be able to sit and chat and catch up with some folks. But I can't even stand to listen to the own thoughts that are bumbled, jumbled and an absolute mess inside my own head. Besides, when I DO start to talk, most of the time, I don't realize I mumble.

Literally, I mumble and slur. Thanks medications. I'm trying to hold a coherent thought- and most of the time I lose it. Especially if someone says anything- a sound, a dog bark, computer noise. Boom. Gone. Thoughtless and dying of loneliness. New ideas spring up, and just as quickly they're gone. I'm used to being able to thought process through things- I'm a good problem solver. Right now, I couldn't even find my way out of a paper bag. Even with a drawn map. And flashing lights clearly pointing the way. Roadmapped for me.... I don't have a chance in hell finding my way out.

I hurt. All the time. I do not tell you this to make you feel sorry for me. I tell you this to explain why I haven't been really talking to anyone. I've been so frustrated with myself, I don't want anyone else to see me so... Weak. So helpless. Out of control. Not myself. That's what I'm scared of.... If you don't see me as you're used to- you'll run. And not to anyone specifically... Just in general.

I know typically I'm the joker, I'm the laid back easygoing body. Now... I'm a lump on a log. Most days I don't want to bother with my makeup. I throw on clothes that fit that aren't hard to get into. I've lost nearly 30 lbs because of the medications- they make my appetite next to nothing. I've gone from a size 18 when I came home 8 weeks ago, to a 14 bordering on 12 now. I'm cold almost all the time. It's the weight loss thing, unless I'm moving around (which isn't happening much) or I'm sitting out in the sun. Heh, the medications also advise me not to do that. I think. I saw it on one of the labels somewhere, but I can't find the bottle. Not sure if I'm still taking it. I don't want to dig through my bag to try and read and find it.

I miss working. I miss being on the phones, talking to people. The interactions. I miss all the aspects of what I used to be. What I will be again sometime... I hope. I know I'll get back there again- it's just.... I need it to be soon.

Feeling....

Left in place.
Outside looking in.

Sitting on my ass is really starting to get to me. It's starting to get me antsy- and I want to be up and moving around when I can't.
There are things that have happened recently that have me a little down and under the weather. It's stupid really, mostly. There were goals I had hoped to have achieved by now- but in what, I'm not quite sure. And that totally doesn't make sense. Maybe someday it will.

I'm a bridesmaid this year. I'm a guest at another friend's surprise wedding.
I'm sure my middle sister will be engaged soon. My youngest sister is graduating high school in a few weeks. I remember being her age... Being excited. My brother's out in Vegas- doing really well.

Me?
I'm stuck at a sitstill.
I say it that way- because I can't move. Well, limited... And yes, since coming back to see my doctor- I've been able to get some relief from the pain I've been in and we're thisclose to a diagnosis and a fix. Which I'm excited about.

So why am I down.
It's because... I can't be up and going. It's difficult to stay positive. It's hard to put a smile on my face when all I want to do is close my eyes, and disappear until I feel better. A little green jealousy bug has bitten me- and I know it's totally unfair and not anyone's fault but my own for feeling this way... But it's part of the reason I've been so hermity.
Spillage of the guts time, which I'm not good at and I expect people to not like to want to read or even understand any of this. Added to that, I'm medicated so what I say probably won't make much sense anyways.

When asked as a kid what I wanted to be- I first said a ballerina.
Why? I'd get to wear pretty tutu's, ballet slippers and dance around.
Asked years later- and I could only think of one thing I really, really wanted.
To be a good mother.

I mean, lets face it. I tried college. I didn't cut it. I partied too hard, got too into the social aspect of it and well- just didn't do well. There were certain classes that entertained and challenged me, which I did well with... But did I ever honestly tell anyone that I didn't actually see myself ever getting a degree?
No.
But I just did. Sure- I could have done the English thing- since it came so easy to me. But that's a lot of reading (not making excuses, it's just my work was too detailed according to my professors and they didn't like it- what a surprise). The assignments I'd turn in wouldn't be the required length of bullshit filler they needed it to be in order to be considered a "project". Why? I pull out the facts. I write down the important stuff. I don't add fluff, pomp, and blow smoke up your ass just to make a paper 10 pages instead of the 6 I have all the information already detailed and listed in. I don't know how to write fluff. Not when it comes to factual basis articles. Creative writing- yeah right. Blogging is about the extent of that creativity.

Could I have transferred to Art? Sure! But seriously... There's a reason people are called starving artists and I didn't want to be yet another paint smeared, frustrated student working on projects all hours of the night and finally getting frustrated with how my project wasn't cooperating and most likely saying fuck it... And tossing a paint can on it and ruining the entire thing. No patience in that arena. None.
Jewelry school? I've been toying with the idea.
I've been getting better with the materials I'm using, creating, and sometimes selling. My problem is getting people to buy. I'm not coming down on my prices- because it's my time and effort that goes into these pieces I create and I'll be damned if I let them go for cheap. I charge what my items are worth- not a penny more. And not exorbitant. But I'll tell you... This economy sucks. The way I make sales? Markdowns. Promos. I lose money- but gain repeat customers. That's what's important- and that's what I keep telling myself. I need a better marketing scheme. And honestly- I don't think I can make a living just selling my jewelry unless I get a fucking miracle that falls out of the sky. Riiight. Let me wait on that one for a while... Not.

What's my downfall?
Being supportive of all those around me. Which sometimes I let lapse- since I try to take care of everyone other than myself. Why? It's easier to fix problems that belong elsewhere than try to face my own demons. They're personal- they know the ins and outs and what I don't want to face- and that's the difficult part that I've been learning to take head on and defeat on my own.

I totally didn't see myself right here, this moment, right now- with what I have. But I have determination that I'm not staying down for long- no way, this isn't forever. It's not going to stay this way forever. Things very soon will look up- even if I have to drag myself up to do it.
My sadness comes from deeper within. I'm lonely. I thought I'd be married by now- but that's my own damn fault. I run. I shouldn't have- years ago, I never should have. And I promised him this time I won't. The only way I'm leaving is if he tells me to go. It's just... It doesn't quite feel real yet- even being back yet, seeing him... It's almost like he thinks I'm going to up and disappear in to thin air. I'm not.

My definition of success in all this, in life, is to be a good mother. I want the babies to raise, I want the man I love to walk that road with me, I want to do it as a partnership as it should be done... I know it's not going to be easy- but it's something I've wanted for years. Kind of hard to do that when I've got running shoes on and already picked a direction of exit which has the least amount of resistance and obstacles- which I'm done with. The shoes are off, retired, threw them in the garbage and now I'm not going anywhere. I want him to tell me I'm his. I want him to tell his friends, family, that I'm his again. Past feelings aside- it's our business what we do. And that's all I'm saying on the personal subjects.

Call me crazy, but I want to be out in the dirt digging and planting flowers. I don't want to be in an apartment forever. I want to be pruning hedges or bushes or whatever, and watering the grass in a yard I can walk around in. Chasing squirrels out of my yard. Growing strawberries, mint, basil and tomatoes. I want a beautiful garden filled with flowers that will bloom all spring and summer, with a little pond. Maybe some fish too. I want a little firepit I can sit around at night and warm my feet by, curled up next to him and just listening to the sounds of the water, sounds of the night. Going to sleep in his arms every night, and waking each morning that way. Telling him I can't wait to see him later... Him giving me that million dollar smile... And knowing we'll both be counting the minutes till we meet up to do whatever- movie, dinner, hiking, surprise... To just simply love him.

Yes, yes yes. I'm getting that freaking nesting feeling for some stupid reason and I want a place of my own I can clean, organize and call my own. Well, our own. I want to make dinner some nights, and have it made for me others. I want to take random road trips and not have a destination planned- just a tent in the back of the truck and a few sleeping bags and an air mattress (of course, so I don't wreck my back). Go do random crazy things just because we can... And we're kooky. We're always good at being kooky.

The happiness that my friends have... So many of them... I want some of it.
I think I have some of it... Actually, I know I have some of it. But maybe I'm looking too hard, or not enough. Or maybe just not communicating it the right way. Maybe it's just too buried under all this worry and concern. I want little bebes. At this rate, it seems like there are no kids in the future- and it breaks my heart. I just want to cry about it. Every time I turn around, it's someone else I know that's adding another little person to their beautiful little family- and don't get me wrong PLEASE- I'm SO happy for you all! Really I am! It's wonderful news and I'm thrilled for you all!

But a little piece in me hurts, a small one, because it's not me with that news.
It's just me, standing in the corner, with the smile on my face and congratulating you.
Then once that's passed, I go to the hallway and let the tears fall.
This is why I haven't been talking. This is why I haven't been answering calls. This is why I've been generally avoiding everyone- because I didn't want to fall apart at the seams. A lot of it is the medication talking- which makes me blabber- big news there.
But... Fuck it. It's written now.