Last night was horrid. I suppose I ate too much before bed. And then there’s the matter of my bowels being still clogged up. Anyway, I was in half wakefulness fighting awful nausea until forty-past-two in the morning when I declared it too much and woke my mother. God bless her, she went straight to the pharmacy to pick up my Zofran.
Unfortunately, the Zofran did little for me. I was also most annoyingly restless. After taking some pain medication and my anti-anxiety pill I paced from the front door to the breakfast nook. Soon I was able to truly relax in my recliner and get a few hours precious sleep before I had to wake and make myself ready to see the doctor.
Not long before falling asleep I felt the peculiar feeling of my blood vessels either narrowing or expanding. It does not hurt, it is just strange and almost seems to make one go limp for a time. The thing was explained almost immediately--it started to rain.
The weather is fairly good today: a slight autumn chill with sunshine.
I feel not able to write about the outings of my short day for I feel I must take a nap presently
I again, as yesterday, slept away the dinner hours. I did in fact sleep for almost five hours this time. And again I was disturbed by my mother who spent some length of time on my computer.
I was eventually forced to leave my recliner and ready myself for bed while mom tended to the rats. And so here I am now at the midnight hour. I’ve read through at least three prefaces and the first two chapters of Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte.
I did nothing today that I should have done except appear at the doctor’s and do one load of laundry.
Mom and I went to Barnes and Noble after my appointment. I had a bottle of cherry and pomegranate juice, most of my berry pastry and most of my half of a pesto, cheese and tomato sandwich (I removed all but one of the tomatoes).
Mom had to leave to meet Ginny at a doctor’s appointment so Gramma came and got me and we stopped at Ideal. She helped me select a strip steak and some veal cutlets. I am perhaps the most ignorant of all people on the subject of meat. I managed to cook my strip steak myself and to my satisfaction. Gramma has promised to teach me to prepare the cutlets tomorrow. I was also glad to treat myself my favorite kind of goat cheese and a loaf of beer wheat bread from the Grain Bin while we were at the store. Oh, and I mustn’t forget the clotted cream!
The doctor says I still have much stool in me, so my poor weight is even poorer than I thought. I now weigh around 116 pounds.
I hope that this night affords me more sleep and tomorrow more wakefulness. And now I lay my head once more to the pillow, weigh down my limbs with quilts and pray that God dusts my eyes with stars and crowns my head with moonbeams until such a time as I am rested and ready to walk forthwith again.
Showing posts with label sick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sick. Show all posts
Friday, October 17, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Annabel and How Famous I Am
This is Annabel, the new rat. We adopted her from Capital City Rat Rescue as a friend for Cupcake, who's older companions weren't too keen on joining in her baby antics. Annabel is still very young, around 3 months old, and she's giving Cupcake a little taste of her own medicine. I think it's good for Cuppers. I think I've already introduced her, but with the way my mind is these days... Click on the picture to view the whole set.I told ya'll I'd show you a present I made for Rayne, so here it is. I've got another one waiting to be uploaded.
I also said I'd tell you how famous I am. Let's just say that everyone I know has told everyone they know about me and my "hard times", so everyday I hear about people who are praying for me, thinking of me, offering help (which I don't need much of, unless you want to clean rat cages). My sister says her teachers take her aside during class to ask about me. My mom is bombarded with more of the same at work. Staci (who runs Capital City Rat Rescue) says she tells all her friends and family about her "brave friend Becca" which I think is so totally sweet.
I feel like I don't deserve all of this attention. I mean, I'm ill, I'm cranky, I hardly ever smell or look good. I should think people would be running away from me making the sign of the cross. Plus, none of this is new to me. I mean, suffering through various maladies and beinging in and out of the hospital is sort of the norm for me. Granted, this is a really bad time, but it's nothing I haven't already been through before.
Today has been more of the same. I slept a lot, I was in pain, etc. etc. I sat outside for a bit, which was nice. Lil' Staci sat out there with me. She has now decided that the wild life is for her, but I insisted she is domestic through and through and put her back in her cage.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
There and Back Again
Yesterday I spent my morning and early afternoon in the ER because I had one of my episodes. They did a bunch of tests and gave me some pain med. The CT scan showed the my abscess has shrunk even more, which is great. However, since it's been shrinking to rapidly mom and I kind of wonder if it hasn't been leaking it's sickly fluid into my already sickly body...
The last week has been awful, there's no doubt about that. I've been sleeping for most of it, which always throws me off and makes me feel depressed. I dream what I would be doing if I were awake and that kind of screws things up, you know? Did I already relay this important piece of information or was that a dream? Did this really happen or did I just dream that? It ends up feeling like nothing got done.
I have to remind myself that I do get some things done. Why, today I organized my pills, folded laundry, took a bath and had my mom trim my hair (does that last one count as me doing something, though?). I think of what Rayne said in one of her blogs and what my mom has been telling me for years: Even when you are very sick and feel completely useless you can always do at least one thing. Being an avid list-maker and someone who prepares everything far in advance, "one thing" never seems good enough to me. Can't I add in just one more thing? Oh, and that other thing? I think to myself. No, my body replies, no, not today.
The I'm-S0-Tired-It-Feels-Like-Someone-Put-Sandbags-In-My-Organs feeling is back. I sit in my recliner and try to summon the energy to breathe. I try coloring in my coloring books or knitting, but eventually my tools fall out of my hands and I'm panting for breath. I try talking to Rayne online, but summoning the brain power to make an adequete reply or add an anecdote of my own soon becomes too much and I retreat to my bed saying, "I'm just gonna take a nap, I'll be back soon." I wake up four hours later.
I'm almost done putting 2007's Crunchy Bits blog entries in Word format and look what I stumbled across: "I have spent the last two weeks quite literally asleep. Not a good sleep either, a deep, drag you down, limbs weighing a million pounds each sleep. Weird dreams, some of them would make some pretty good novels. Especially the ones with the train."- From This Blog By Rayne
That there is exactly how I feel and what I'm experiencing! I do have some novel-worthy dreams and the only reason I ever wake up from my slumbers is because of duty. I feel I have to show my face to the world or else it will forget about me and do something really cool and I'll miss out on it all.
Last week I was passing on a message to a mutual rat friend for Rayne. "Why don't you just talk to her yourself?" I asked. "She's online."
"I'm too out of it," Rayne replied. "I'd be too embarrassed. You're used to me when I'm like this."
"But I don't think you sound out of it at all!" I exclaimed, although I went ahead and asked our friend about the rat food Rayne needed (although if you look at some of her rats I don't think they need anymore food...well, I'll keep my opinions to myself...)
The point is, I understand where Rayne was coming from now. Sure, it's easy to come off sounding like I'm sitting up in a desk chair, perky as ever, clicking away on my computer, but I can't keep up the charade for long. And it is kind of embarrassing because I want to be there, in the present, talking to my friends and paying them the best of attention, but I can't. I want to express the emotion that a certain comment requires but I just can't summon up more than zombie fluff.
I can't seem to make myself interested in anything. And again I am reminded of how I have stopped believing in time. How can I when I sleep and don't know when I'll wake up? And then my dreams are of what I've done and what I'm planning to do.
Sometimes, when I feel sick and am having trouble going to sleep I imagine that I'm someplace else. Lately, it's been Brambly Hedge for me. In my mind I design my own little home inside a tree. It's quiet there and my troubles and pains can't find me. There is nothing pressing or overly important to worry about and I am free to boil water in my little kettle and make tea from leaves I gathered in the woods. I sew pillows and quilts and knit gifts for all my friends. I write peaceful letters with blackberry ink. If I want, I can put on a pretty dress and a hat and go visit my neighbors, bringing along preserves and freshly picked flowers. I feel better just writing about it.
I made myself go sit outside today. Perpetually cold, I had to bring along my quilt, but it all worked out. I have a nice lawn chair so that I can lie back (I can only sit up for short periods of time). I set my humming IV pump in it's little purse beside me and breathed in the air. It smelled so good. I just couldn't get enough. I took a walk around to look at the plants in our garden. Only two kinds of flowers were in bloom, both of them white. I ran my hands along one of our trees and immediately felt relief and tenderness. I don't know what it is about me and trees, but it's like God is in them. Sometimes I feel as if I could stand there exploring their every branch and leaf forever.
I read a book while I was outside, but eventually I got too cold and tired and went in.
Today Mom went to Target and brought back Hello Kitty coloring books and bags for all. My sister started coloring in my Hello Kitty Coloring and Activivities Book (no, that's not a typo, that's seriously what it says on the book) while I was in the hospital last and, feeling guilty, expressed her desire to replace mine. Then she started coveting one of her own, so when Mom asked if there was anything she could get for us at Target that was my sister's request. My mom also got me a Barbie doll just because it had pink highlights like me. And she brought home lunch. I decided I should probably eat it since I hate leftovers, so I popped a Zofran and ate all but one bite of my all-beef hot dog. Ya'll should be proud of me...except it's the only thing I ate today with the exception of a strawberry Boost with my morning meds.
Poor Mom, she was all excited about this stuff she got and I had to say sorry, I'm gonna go take a nap.
This is officially the longest, most disjointed blog ever.
The last week has been awful, there's no doubt about that. I've been sleeping for most of it, which always throws me off and makes me feel depressed. I dream what I would be doing if I were awake and that kind of screws things up, you know? Did I already relay this important piece of information or was that a dream? Did this really happen or did I just dream that? It ends up feeling like nothing got done.
I have to remind myself that I do get some things done. Why, today I organized my pills, folded laundry, took a bath and had my mom trim my hair (does that last one count as me doing something, though?). I think of what Rayne said in one of her blogs and what my mom has been telling me for years: Even when you are very sick and feel completely useless you can always do at least one thing. Being an avid list-maker and someone who prepares everything far in advance, "one thing" never seems good enough to me. Can't I add in just one more thing? Oh, and that other thing? I think to myself. No, my body replies, no, not today.
The I'm-S0-Tired-It-Feels-Like-Someone-Put-Sandbags-In-My-Organs feeling is back. I sit in my recliner and try to summon the energy to breathe. I try coloring in my coloring books or knitting, but eventually my tools fall out of my hands and I'm panting for breath. I try talking to Rayne online, but summoning the brain power to make an adequete reply or add an anecdote of my own soon becomes too much and I retreat to my bed saying, "I'm just gonna take a nap, I'll be back soon." I wake up four hours later.
I'm almost done putting 2007's Crunchy Bits blog entries in Word format and look what I stumbled across: "I have spent the last two weeks quite literally asleep. Not a good sleep either, a deep, drag you down, limbs weighing a million pounds each sleep. Weird dreams, some of them would make some pretty good novels. Especially the ones with the train."- From This Blog By Rayne
That there is exactly how I feel and what I'm experiencing! I do have some novel-worthy dreams and the only reason I ever wake up from my slumbers is because of duty. I feel I have to show my face to the world or else it will forget about me and do something really cool and I'll miss out on it all.
Last week I was passing on a message to a mutual rat friend for Rayne. "Why don't you just talk to her yourself?" I asked. "She's online."
"I'm too out of it," Rayne replied. "I'd be too embarrassed. You're used to me when I'm like this."
"But I don't think you sound out of it at all!" I exclaimed, although I went ahead and asked our friend about the rat food Rayne needed (although if you look at some of her rats I don't think they need anymore food...well, I'll keep my opinions to myself...)
The point is, I understand where Rayne was coming from now. Sure, it's easy to come off sounding like I'm sitting up in a desk chair, perky as ever, clicking away on my computer, but I can't keep up the charade for long. And it is kind of embarrassing because I want to be there, in the present, talking to my friends and paying them the best of attention, but I can't. I want to express the emotion that a certain comment requires but I just can't summon up more than zombie fluff.
I can't seem to make myself interested in anything. And again I am reminded of how I have stopped believing in time. How can I when I sleep and don't know when I'll wake up? And then my dreams are of what I've done and what I'm planning to do.
Sometimes, when I feel sick and am having trouble going to sleep I imagine that I'm someplace else. Lately, it's been Brambly Hedge for me. In my mind I design my own little home inside a tree. It's quiet there and my troubles and pains can't find me. There is nothing pressing or overly important to worry about and I am free to boil water in my little kettle and make tea from leaves I gathered in the woods. I sew pillows and quilts and knit gifts for all my friends. I write peaceful letters with blackberry ink. If I want, I can put on a pretty dress and a hat and go visit my neighbors, bringing along preserves and freshly picked flowers. I feel better just writing about it.
I made myself go sit outside today. Perpetually cold, I had to bring along my quilt, but it all worked out. I have a nice lawn chair so that I can lie back (I can only sit up for short periods of time). I set my humming IV pump in it's little purse beside me and breathed in the air. It smelled so good. I just couldn't get enough. I took a walk around to look at the plants in our garden. Only two kinds of flowers were in bloom, both of them white. I ran my hands along one of our trees and immediately felt relief and tenderness. I don't know what it is about me and trees, but it's like God is in them. Sometimes I feel as if I could stand there exploring their every branch and leaf forever.
I read a book while I was outside, but eventually I got too cold and tired and went in.
Today Mom went to Target and brought back Hello Kitty coloring books and bags for all. My sister started coloring in my Hello Kitty Coloring and Activivities Book (no, that's not a typo, that's seriously what it says on the book) while I was in the hospital last and, feeling guilty, expressed her desire to replace mine. Then she started coveting one of her own, so when Mom asked if there was anything she could get for us at Target that was my sister's request. My mom also got me a Barbie doll just because it had pink highlights like me. And she brought home lunch. I decided I should probably eat it since I hate leftovers, so I popped a Zofran and ate all but one bite of my all-beef hot dog. Ya'll should be proud of me...except it's the only thing I ate today with the exception of a strawberry Boost with my morning meds.
Poor Mom, she was all excited about this stuff she got and I had to say sorry, I'm gonna go take a nap.
This is officially the longest, most disjointed blog ever.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Cue Flyleaf's Number One Hit
Okay, I guess most of my readers (here on Blogger anyway) are middle aged men and woman and they probably have no idea who Flyleaf is. Flyleaf is a band. Flyleaf is a really cool band and I like them very much. Sometimes, when I'm really not feeling well, their number one hit, "I'm So Sick" starts going through my head (much like "Everything Comes Down To Poo" from Scrubs goes through my head at the hospital a lot). Would anyone care to enlightened? Because I'm happy to post a music video for you.
Anyway, what I mean to say is, I'm so sick. Today has not been a good day. Yesterday wasn't all that great either, but yesterday didn't have me moaning like a baby. You know how when you have a really bad cold you feel like you have no choice but to moan to everyone you meet as if that will make it better? That's what I feel like today. Thank God for poor Rayne, huh? If she wasn't online to listen to me moan then my only other option would be to moan even more to you poor people in blogosphere or to moan to my Mom who has a cold right now and that's just wrong. You don't moan to someone who possibly feels as bad as you do. Unless it's a bonding thing, like where Rayne and I might talk about how each of us wants to eat breakfast but we're too nauseous.
There goes to alarm for me to take my antibiotic out of the refrigerator. We are allowed to let it sit for awhile so I don't get chill veins. Brr, I hate that. Either this antibiotics side effects are making me feel worse or I actually am worse and the antibiotic is not doing its job. If the latter is true then I'm off to Omaha for surgery. That's pretty much the last thing I want to do with my life right now. All I can say is they had better give me a private room. I will not, I repeat, will not go through the Andrea thing again. It's just not worth it.
In other news, we have a new rat! Her name is Annabel and we got her to be a younger playmate for Cupcake. They of course got on famously and Annabel has now joined the young group: Daisy, Lil' Staci and Cupcake. Cuppers is getting a nice taste of her own medicine having this younger rat around. Now someone is waking her up by jumping up and down on top of her.
I don't have any pictures taken yet, but you can see Annabel's old Petfinder profile here.
Well, I'm going to take some more narcotics and start getting ready to hook myself up to the IV pump. Maybe I'll think of something more cheerful to blog about and come back later.
Anyway, what I mean to say is, I'm so sick. Today has not been a good day. Yesterday wasn't all that great either, but yesterday didn't have me moaning like a baby. You know how when you have a really bad cold you feel like you have no choice but to moan to everyone you meet as if that will make it better? That's what I feel like today. Thank God for poor Rayne, huh? If she wasn't online to listen to me moan then my only other option would be to moan even more to you poor people in blogosphere or to moan to my Mom who has a cold right now and that's just wrong. You don't moan to someone who possibly feels as bad as you do. Unless it's a bonding thing, like where Rayne and I might talk about how each of us wants to eat breakfast but we're too nauseous.
There goes to alarm for me to take my antibiotic out of the refrigerator. We are allowed to let it sit for awhile so I don't get chill veins. Brr, I hate that. Either this antibiotics side effects are making me feel worse or I actually am worse and the antibiotic is not doing its job. If the latter is true then I'm off to Omaha for surgery. That's pretty much the last thing I want to do with my life right now. All I can say is they had better give me a private room. I will not, I repeat, will not go through the Andrea thing again. It's just not worth it.
In other news, we have a new rat! Her name is Annabel and we got her to be a younger playmate for Cupcake. They of course got on famously and Annabel has now joined the young group: Daisy, Lil' Staci and Cupcake. Cuppers is getting a nice taste of her own medicine having this younger rat around. Now someone is waking her up by jumping up and down on top of her.
I don't have any pictures taken yet, but you can see Annabel's old Petfinder profile here.
Well, I'm going to take some more narcotics and start getting ready to hook myself up to the IV pump. Maybe I'll think of something more cheerful to blog about and come back later.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Drug Dilemma
The last 4 days have been pretty painful ones. I've been trying to cut down on the narcotics without the using Tylenol as a crutch because, frankly, Tylenol does nothing for me. I may as well be taking sugar pills for all I can tell. Plus, one less drug in my body is always a-ok with me. I am requiring the same amount of pain meds now as I was when I was taken out of the hospital. There has been no improvement pain-wise except for a couple good mornings (which invariably turned into bad afternoons). However, the narcotics are slowing down things in my bowels and we need to get that stuff going. We especially don't want there to be another obstruction. So the doctors are hoping that, if they lower my amount of narcotics then things start moving in my tummy and then I start to feel better. Granted, I should be trying to eat some normal food during this time and get a little exercise to help things along.
So, being the good patient that I am, I've been cutting down on the narcotics. Unfortunately things have been really painful lately. I feel like I just had surgery or something. So my way of coping with the pain now is to lie dow in the recliner or bed and not move. And maybe use my heating pad sometimes. The pain also ensures that my meager appetite is swept away. So much for diet and exercise...
As for sleep...well, without the copious amount of narcotics in my system that ensure I can sleep whenever I want to, I've been forced to start using my Ambien again.
I'm also on this new antibiotic for my UTI. It makes me very, very nauseous so now I'm basically eating nothing. I mean, even when I was in the hospital I could at least finish a can of Boost. Not anymore. I have half a can of that stuff nowadays and I feel like I just came out of an all-you-can-eat buffet. So, now I'm turning to my heavy duty nausea medication.
So, as you can see we have something of a dilemma here. And after spending half of last night on the toilet I've come to the conclusion that my bowel obstruction may have come back. My doctor had offered to do another CT scan last time I saw her, but at the time we didn't really feel it was necessary. Now I want the CT scan. My mom is going to call some doctors today because we really need to get some medication routine that works going on here. I just hope I don't have to go back to the hospital and/or have more surgery.
In other news, the rats and cats are doing a very good job of taking care of me. Velvet has learned very well that she is now allowed to touch or walk on my stomach. I also successfully saved my computer from a horrible, horrible virus yesterday. All I can say is thank You God for System Restore and the fact that I back up everything. Okay, okay, my dad helped me conquer the evil virus a little.
Becca
So, being the good patient that I am, I've been cutting down on the narcotics. Unfortunately things have been really painful lately. I feel like I just had surgery or something. So my way of coping with the pain now is to lie dow in the recliner or bed and not move. And maybe use my heating pad sometimes. The pain also ensures that my meager appetite is swept away. So much for diet and exercise...
As for sleep...well, without the copious amount of narcotics in my system that ensure I can sleep whenever I want to, I've been forced to start using my Ambien again.
I'm also on this new antibiotic for my UTI. It makes me very, very nauseous so now I'm basically eating nothing. I mean, even when I was in the hospital I could at least finish a can of Boost. Not anymore. I have half a can of that stuff nowadays and I feel like I just came out of an all-you-can-eat buffet. So, now I'm turning to my heavy duty nausea medication.
So, as you can see we have something of a dilemma here. And after spending half of last night on the toilet I've come to the conclusion that my bowel obstruction may have come back. My doctor had offered to do another CT scan last time I saw her, but at the time we didn't really feel it was necessary. Now I want the CT scan. My mom is going to call some doctors today because we really need to get some medication routine that works going on here. I just hope I don't have to go back to the hospital and/or have more surgery.
In other news, the rats and cats are doing a very good job of taking care of me. Velvet has learned very well that she is now allowed to touch or walk on my stomach. I also successfully saved my computer from a horrible, horrible virus yesterday. All I can say is thank You God for System Restore and the fact that I back up everything. Okay, okay, my dad helped me conquer the evil virus a little.
Becca
Monday, June 16, 2008
The Chronicles of Becca: The Liver, the Notebook and the Prilosec
Today my liver started to really hurt for the first time in a week or so. I mean, I always feel it (how could I not when it's gotten huge and hard?). Then came the even greater aversion to food than usual. And the more extreme tiredness. And finally came the chills. It's June in Nebraska and I sat outside in winter socks, sweatpants, a t-shirt and a hoodie. In direct sunlight. Lin the rat sat with me for awhile (she gets grouchy if she doesn't get outdoor time with me at least twice a week). Later Oscar the cat came to see me.
Oh, and then later came the shortness of breath. There just isn't room enough for all my organs anymore what with my huge liver and huge cysts on my ovaries.
But even feeling crappy like that do you know what I did? I cleaned two rat cages. I have no idea what I was thinking. Probably some nonsense about being bored and about the boys' litter box overflowing. Anyway, now I'm paying for it. I thought about taking some codine, but I don't know if that interferes with my sleep med. And I need my sleeping pills. Now I'm thinking Tylenol, but that means getting out of bed and walking all the way to the kitchen, which would defeat the purpose of Not Feeling Pain.
So I lay in bed and finished watching The Notebook. Now I don't know if it's because I had really high expectations for it or what, but I didn't think it was all that great. Supposedly even guys cry at this movie, but I didn't get teary eyed even once. And I get teary eyed watching Elf, okay? The only part that was even the least bit touching for me was the last half hour of the film. Maybe after Bella and Edward everything else just seems lukewarm or something (see books by Stephanie Meyer).
One thing I did do today: I made a vlog. Actually three vlogs since the battery on my camera kept running out. I uploaded them to YouTube, but now internets TV is doing maintenance, so I can't access them. Please stand by.
I do have photos from yesterday's photo shoot, though! Check it out.
I also made one of those cool Simpsons things. I think it's a pretty good likeness.
OMG...I just realized. I feel heartburn. Which means I haven't taken my Prilosec. Which means I forgot to put it in my pill case. I did! Wow...It's a miracle I've been able to eat at all. Amazing.
Oh, and then later came the shortness of breath. There just isn't room enough for all my organs anymore what with my huge liver and huge cysts on my ovaries.
But even feeling crappy like that do you know what I did? I cleaned two rat cages. I have no idea what I was thinking. Probably some nonsense about being bored and about the boys' litter box overflowing. Anyway, now I'm paying for it. I thought about taking some codine, but I don't know if that interferes with my sleep med. And I need my sleeping pills. Now I'm thinking Tylenol, but that means getting out of bed and walking all the way to the kitchen, which would defeat the purpose of Not Feeling Pain.
So I lay in bed and finished watching The Notebook. Now I don't know if it's because I had really high expectations for it or what, but I didn't think it was all that great. Supposedly even guys cry at this movie, but I didn't get teary eyed even once. And I get teary eyed watching Elf, okay? The only part that was even the least bit touching for me was the last half hour of the film. Maybe after Bella and Edward everything else just seems lukewarm or something (see books by Stephanie Meyer).
One thing I did do today: I made a vlog. Actually three vlogs since the battery on my camera kept running out. I uploaded them to YouTube, but now internets TV is doing maintenance, so I can't access them. Please stand by.
I do have photos from yesterday's photo shoot, though! Check it out.
I also made one of those cool Simpsons things. I think it's a pretty good likeness.
OMG...I just realized. I feel heartburn. Which means I haven't taken my Prilosec. Which means I forgot to put it in my pill case. I did! Wow...It's a miracle I've been able to eat at all. Amazing.
Rambling at 1 AM
So I've been reading some of Rayne's blogs and I've been inspired to post some more here. I post most religiously on my MySpace, but sometimes I don't post all my journals there because, well, too many people would read them and might say nasty things. It's happened before.
I feel bad about what I wrote on June 8th. Today I think I've learned to appreciate my friends more for who they are and all the fun things I can do with them. And I do have things in common with them. We just don't always like the same music or movies.
Anyway, I took some narcotics come 4 AM this morning. Who ovulates for 4 days? I mean honestly. But, my ovaries were killing me. And after 12 hours without narcotics I was in a lot of pain (I can remember to refill my other medications, but not the kind that actually makes people woozy and forgetful. Thank God for 24-hour Walgreens).
I woke up around 7:30 to the sound of a text message from Gina. She wanted to know if she needed to drive us to work or not. I was planning to drive if I wasn't drugged. Not only was it way past my turn to drive, but I wanted to. I missed driving to work and listening to my music on the way. I gave it as long as I could, but I eventually had to tell Gina she had to drive. I was still pretty woozy from narcotics. I was really frustrated, though. Stupid body.
Turns out it was pouring rain, so it was a good thing Gina drove anyway. I had fun at work (babysitting for St. Mark's Northwest two services), but by the time I was done I was about to collapse, as usual. Plus, all the rain had triggered a migraine. Gina and James were going on a little trip to Beatrice and asked if I wanted to come. Darn my stupid body! I was too tired to go. I mean, how often do I get the chance to leave town for anything other than medical tests? Grrr...
At home I couldn't fall into bed just yet. My sister and I had a photo shoot outside (photos to come) so that Dad would have some recent photos of us. It was our last-minute Father's Day present idea. After that I slept for about 4 hours and woke up with my migraine even worse. I took my medication and puttered around online. Eventually I felt better and I went with mom to Target just to get up and do something. Mom took me around to look at some of the craft things, asking if I saw anything I wanted that would keep me occupied. It was really sweet, but I feel like I've spent more than enough of our money this month already on books and sweatpants. Plus, I think I'm going get myself back into writing The Master Painter. And I've only read 3/4 of a novel so far this month. I am so behind on my 6-novels-a-month quota. So all in all, I think I should keep occupied.
I'm also proud to announce that I'll be returning to art class. It's going to do me a world of good, I just know it. My sister has agreed to let me come to her Wednesday class. That way she can drive me when I'm drugged or too tired to be a safe driver.
After Target, mom dropped me off so I could hang out with Gina and we watched a cool show about rats. I've never seen rats boiled alive, skinned, chopped up and deep fried for Chinese food before. That was great... :S But the interview with Debbie Doucommon and the dumbo PEWs were worth it. My ovaries have been twinging all day, but it was worth it to get out and do something.
Gina had some good hanging-out ideas, so maybe I'll get out a little more this week. And she offered to stay with me for part of my time in Omaha. I'm going to be getting my evaluation for a liver transplant the 23rd-25th. It's all sorts of weird tests to see where I should go on the list. And of course they want to know how much I smoke, drink and how many illegal drugs I take...yeah right. As if I even went to high school. My mom has to leave every night to go to rehersal for The Music Man at Pinewood Bowl (she's the music director), but if I'm not up to all those car rides then I'll stay in a hotel.
Now I'm home, and just as I predicted, I'm awake and it's one in the morning. And the baby rats are wrestling and squeaking so loud I doubt I'd be able to sleep much anyway. Sometimes I question my charity in taking Cupcake in...
Golly, I'm babbling and not making any sense. I'm gonna shut up now.
P.S. Here's how I spent my morning. Gina is the one doing the video. I'm the girl with the hat on. No, you don't need to watch the whole video.
I feel bad about what I wrote on June 8th. Today I think I've learned to appreciate my friends more for who they are and all the fun things I can do with them. And I do have things in common with them. We just don't always like the same music or movies.
Anyway, I took some narcotics come 4 AM this morning. Who ovulates for 4 days? I mean honestly. But, my ovaries were killing me. And after 12 hours without narcotics I was in a lot of pain (I can remember to refill my other medications, but not the kind that actually makes people woozy and forgetful. Thank God for 24-hour Walgreens).
I woke up around 7:30 to the sound of a text message from Gina. She wanted to know if she needed to drive us to work or not. I was planning to drive if I wasn't drugged. Not only was it way past my turn to drive, but I wanted to. I missed driving to work and listening to my music on the way. I gave it as long as I could, but I eventually had to tell Gina she had to drive. I was still pretty woozy from narcotics. I was really frustrated, though. Stupid body.
Turns out it was pouring rain, so it was a good thing Gina drove anyway. I had fun at work (babysitting for St. Mark's Northwest two services), but by the time I was done I was about to collapse, as usual. Plus, all the rain had triggered a migraine. Gina and James were going on a little trip to Beatrice and asked if I wanted to come. Darn my stupid body! I was too tired to go. I mean, how often do I get the chance to leave town for anything other than medical tests? Grrr...
At home I couldn't fall into bed just yet. My sister and I had a photo shoot outside (photos to come) so that Dad would have some recent photos of us. It was our last-minute Father's Day present idea. After that I slept for about 4 hours and woke up with my migraine even worse. I took my medication and puttered around online. Eventually I felt better and I went with mom to Target just to get up and do something. Mom took me around to look at some of the craft things, asking if I saw anything I wanted that would keep me occupied. It was really sweet, but I feel like I've spent more than enough of our money this month already on books and sweatpants. Plus, I think I'm going get myself back into writing The Master Painter. And I've only read 3/4 of a novel so far this month. I am so behind on my 6-novels-a-month quota. So all in all, I think I should keep occupied.
I'm also proud to announce that I'll be returning to art class. It's going to do me a world of good, I just know it. My sister has agreed to let me come to her Wednesday class. That way she can drive me when I'm drugged or too tired to be a safe driver.
After Target, mom dropped me off so I could hang out with Gina and we watched a cool show about rats. I've never seen rats boiled alive, skinned, chopped up and deep fried for Chinese food before. That was great... :S But the interview with Debbie Doucommon and the dumbo PEWs were worth it. My ovaries have been twinging all day, but it was worth it to get out and do something.
Gina had some good hanging-out ideas, so maybe I'll get out a little more this week. And she offered to stay with me for part of my time in Omaha. I'm going to be getting my evaluation for a liver transplant the 23rd-25th. It's all sorts of weird tests to see where I should go on the list. And of course they want to know how much I smoke, drink and how many illegal drugs I take...yeah right. As if I even went to high school. My mom has to leave every night to go to rehersal for The Music Man at Pinewood Bowl (she's the music director), but if I'm not up to all those car rides then I'll stay in a hotel.
Now I'm home, and just as I predicted, I'm awake and it's one in the morning. And the baby rats are wrestling and squeaking so loud I doubt I'd be able to sleep much anyway. Sometimes I question my charity in taking Cupcake in...
Golly, I'm babbling and not making any sense. I'm gonna shut up now.
P.S. Here's how I spent my morning. Gina is the one doing the video. I'm the girl with the hat on. No, you don't need to watch the whole video.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Sleeping with boys
4 AM
My insomnia has been really bad lately. Can’t take anymore sleeping pills or else I won’t be able to work this morning. I tried working with sleeping pills in my system last Sunday. It didn’t work out so great.
Lately it’s been hard for me to spend much time in public or with my friends. I find conversation exhausting for one thing, especially since most of my friends have little in common with me. Thus, I always come across as pessimistic, grouchy and sarcastic. At least, I think I do. I’m not my happy-go-lucky self, anyway.
Secondly, it hurts too much. When I’m out in public I am watching exactly what I can’t have: close friends or a boyfriend (or both) who kind of understand me and want to have fun the way I want to have fun. It’s so selfish. Why can’t I just appreciate the loyal friends that I have? I should have realized that nothing is ever like the movies I watch or the novels I read. Maybe afterwards, looking back, my social life seems good. But I can never seem to appreciate things in the moment.
Watching boys is so hard. I’m just so starved in this sickly seclusion. I want some kind of male friend, romantic or not, who gets me, at least a little. Who will stand by me. And I have great guy friends who will stick by me. All two of them. But they don’t really know me. I think they’ve tried to understand, but I’m somehow beyond their ken.
It all hurts so much.
And I feel selfish at the same time. Isn’t what I have good enough? Isn’t God good enough?
In bed tonight (or rather, last night) after an evening of dinner, a movie and Barnes and Noble with James and Gina, I thought of the boyfriend from the dream I had last week. I can still feel what it felt like to have his soft hair on my face, to feel his fingers around mine, staunching that weird wound I had.
My insomnia is such that I’m very sleepy, but I fall only part way asleep (if at all). In my dreams I’m still a half-asleep zombie. In my dream I was in the wet grass; it was flooding with water. I dragged my tired body through the spongy puddles to the road. Despite my tiredness, I forced myself to stand up and run through the rain. I leaped into each black puddle I could, hoping to splash up some sense of meaning, of joy. I found part of an abandoned school and slept there for a time. I got up and the 24-hour neon fast food counter inside blinked at me. I recognized the boy working. Why must I be incapacitated by sleepiness when I could be talking with him? I looked a mess and my mouth was hanging open. I stumbled around for awhile before falling asleep on the stairs next to a black boy who was trying to kiss me.
I think I must be the most pathetic person alive. It’s hard knowing that nothing will change as long as I’m too sick for anything new.
My insomnia has been really bad lately. Can’t take anymore sleeping pills or else I won’t be able to work this morning. I tried working with sleeping pills in my system last Sunday. It didn’t work out so great.
Lately it’s been hard for me to spend much time in public or with my friends. I find conversation exhausting for one thing, especially since most of my friends have little in common with me. Thus, I always come across as pessimistic, grouchy and sarcastic. At least, I think I do. I’m not my happy-go-lucky self, anyway.
Secondly, it hurts too much. When I’m out in public I am watching exactly what I can’t have: close friends or a boyfriend (or both) who kind of understand me and want to have fun the way I want to have fun. It’s so selfish. Why can’t I just appreciate the loyal friends that I have? I should have realized that nothing is ever like the movies I watch or the novels I read. Maybe afterwards, looking back, my social life seems good. But I can never seem to appreciate things in the moment.
Watching boys is so hard. I’m just so starved in this sickly seclusion. I want some kind of male friend, romantic or not, who gets me, at least a little. Who will stand by me. And I have great guy friends who will stick by me. All two of them. But they don’t really know me. I think they’ve tried to understand, but I’m somehow beyond their ken.
It all hurts so much.
And I feel selfish at the same time. Isn’t what I have good enough? Isn’t God good enough?
In bed tonight (or rather, last night) after an evening of dinner, a movie and Barnes and Noble with James and Gina, I thought of the boyfriend from the dream I had last week. I can still feel what it felt like to have his soft hair on my face, to feel his fingers around mine, staunching that weird wound I had.
My insomnia is such that I’m very sleepy, but I fall only part way asleep (if at all). In my dreams I’m still a half-asleep zombie. In my dream I was in the wet grass; it was flooding with water. I dragged my tired body through the spongy puddles to the road. Despite my tiredness, I forced myself to stand up and run through the rain. I leaped into each black puddle I could, hoping to splash up some sense of meaning, of joy. I found part of an abandoned school and slept there for a time. I got up and the 24-hour neon fast food counter inside blinked at me. I recognized the boy working. Why must I be incapacitated by sleepiness when I could be talking with him? I looked a mess and my mouth was hanging open. I stumbled around for awhile before falling asleep on the stairs next to a black boy who was trying to kiss me.
I think I must be the most pathetic person alive. It’s hard knowing that nothing will change as long as I’m too sick for anything new.
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