So I have been sequestering myself in my room since I got the backhanded snide comments from the father of the family that I live with, accusing that I am choosing not to pick up my room due to laziness and not medical reasons that doctors are legitimately getting angry at me for breaking... I keep going to the E.R. because I am breaking the rules that the doctors have been setting. I am lifting too much weight, moving too much, doing things that hurt and not stopping because I keep thinking that I need to please the new people who have come into my lives.
While I was sitting in the ER alone, I was feeling miserable. Before I had gone I had made sure to call my back doctor's office and get confirmation that I should be going, and I was told to go... But, the doctor seemed to think that there was no reason for me to be there. At least he wasn't like the brilliant genius doctor who said "there's no reason to expose you to more radiation with an MRI." I was very glad I left minutes later, an MRI stands for magnetic resonance imaging... nothing radioactive about it.
One thing that caused me issues, and often does, is they wanted me to pee on demand. Through an ultrasound they saw that my bladder had a decent amount of urine in it. Can other people just pee on demand like if they were told to stick their tongue out or cough? I mean, I can't pee unless I either have to pee, or it happens out of my control. But doctors and nurses always get upset and annoyed at me when I tell them that I cannot pee on demand and that I will have to have to get an urge and even then it might not come.
I was hostilely told "Well just try!" by a nurse, and handed a bed pan. It dug deeply into my flesh and I tried forcing my muscles as hard as I could, but nothing was going anywhere. I tried pressing on my bladder, nothing. I had four more little cups of water, and no to no effect. But as I was lying there alone in the hospital, with that bed pan beneath me, I was thinking of some of my pet peeves about peeing...
I can only do it in a toilet, and I can only do it absolutely alone. In ladies bathrooms I often have to wait a long time, or at least until it is very empty before I can go... then suddenly the memories of why I had this huge avoidance of urinating outside of restrooms in isolation flooded back to me and I began to cry out from more than just the physical pain that I was in.
How can I tell doctors that I can't force myself to urinate because it is part of my really screwed up PTSD from when I was a kid?
As a kid before I realized what molestation was, and not just something that I didn't like and was a secret, I could go piss in the woods, or even on the side of the road on long road trips if it had to happen, hehe.
There is so much in my life that my past abuses have affected me in how I am today that I don't even realize and cannot identify, let alone begin to work on, that it hurts so much. But beginning to identify it, lets me begin to work on it. Once I stopped crying, I was able to get a wheelchair and finally pee for those damn doctors.
END SAFE BLOG HERE
but there is more to that night that affected me
----WARNING THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS MENTION OF CHILDHOOD SEX ABUSE---
So there were 2 culprits who affected my bathroom behaviors and feelings. But the first one and predominate one, she was a close neighbor. She was a girl, so when she'd ask me to come in the bathroom with her, it didn't seem that weird at first... but the things that she began to say and talk about while there I didn't like.
She also had terrible games... house was one of them. I loved to play house as a kid! But not with Lizzy. She'd always make me the wife. Every kid knows the fun part of house is like the day. A job, pretend eating, pretend shopping, and dressing up... But Lizzy being older than me, she'd guide the day... She always brought nighttime so soon, which I didn't like, because she would never let me be the husband.
We had to undress for bed, of course, cause we were playing realistically... and she wanted to play more like real. And at the tender age of 5, with her finger, she got over me, and pretended to be a husband and showed me what they did.
Lizzy would never talk to my sister again, they were best friends, and then my sister would hate me forever, if I ever told anyone... and besides we were just playing... why would I need to tell anyone? My sister was always envious when the three of us played and Lizzy wanted to go and play house alone with just me... her eyes felt like daggers in my back, the jealousy, but I didn't want to go.
She's also play doctor, which started off completely normal... but turned into like a gynecological exam... When a neighbor girl who was my age moved in later, I was so over-joyed, I had an excuse not to be near Lizzy, ever again.
Yet as I was sitting in the hospital trying my damnedest to pee in a plastic tub while I heard all these voices around me, I heard a young girl, Lizzy's voice, and the things that she would say to me, want to do to me.... and the nightmares began again.
Other things in my life, other people, other events too... it's driving me back to old habits, that I want to self-mutilate, I'm walking on a razor's edge. Maybe I need to move.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Lose 25lbs N 30 days/ 2 Clean Or Not?
"A messy home shows the sign of the characters who live there, you should see the characters that live here!"
Saw that sign out in the living room of house that I rent a room of, and I broke down.
So yesterday, I did wind up going to the ER. When it came time for me to get a ride home it was clear I had no ride, but they left me in the waiting room anyway. I called every friend I could imagine before finally calling one who I believe has been trying to avoid me for several reasons.......... I wound up sobbing apologies in the backseat as I was driven home. Especially because he kept stating that he really needed to get home, and it was 10, and I needed something to eat... I asked him if we could swing by a fast food place- no we could not, alright that's fine. I needed the food to take my heaviest pain killer, and I was in agony, which was why I wanted food.
Then I took all the courage I could, between sobs and asked if he could come inside my house and microwave me something that would take under 5 minutes, so he got upset and said he would just take me to a fast food place! And the entire time the girl that... I suppose he likes and she likes him was there, and I could feel the hate from her.
At the hospital, I went to VCMC and saw Dr. Spier? I think that's how you spell it, anyways he is a great doctor. He ordered an MRI and I got no pain killers before or after, he had ordered a shot for before, but in the confusion of a trauma patient coming in, it was lost and forgotten. MRIs for me are very painful-my lower back is where the injury and pain stem from and lying on your back on a hard surface and remaining still for a long period of time puts a lot of pressure right on that hurt spot, so they are agonizing for me. After the MRI I was a quivering pile of pain, and he told me I could take more than the directions indicated for a day or two of my own pain meds, they would give me none-so I got some water and took what I could. ...Oh, and I should actually TAKE my pain medications when I am in pain... I don't take them enough.
I come to the hospital with bottles filled nearly a month ago, and some of them are nearly untouched. (Oh the first nurse I saw, she totally did NOT believe that I hadn't taken any pain medications yet that day, she was like, 'yeah, right, you lying whore,' in her stare.) But when the doctor came he knew me and knew I could be trusted, I explained I didn't want any contraindications. Which is a good valid reason not to go chugging on medications... and I don't take them often because you build tolerance... but... I just don't take them when I need to.
I've lost 20/25lbs for sure, the hospital's scale is accurate if I trust it to the crappy cheap one I have here. I was told the weight loss should not be affecting my back at all. If anything I did this to myself.
Trying to organize the things in my room. It looks like a storage locker right now. Why? Because on the 30th of last month my room was clean and we needed to clear the storage locker-- so it went into my bedroom. So far no one has come to help me sort things, so I keep trying to do it on my own and hurting myself badly.
I shouldn't be lifting even 10lbs the doctor who works with my back surgeon told me. He was shocked when I told him what I had been doing all because people were saying such cruel things to me about the state of my room. I throw my trash out. I take care of dishes in a timely enough manner. My room is more "clean" than many completely uncluttered rooms that I have seen.
What got to me really bad was a close friend saying more than once that he was going to bring garbage bags, yes plural, to help me clean. As if I am living among refuse and I am just too lazy to throw it out. The first time he said it, I had to bite my tongue and hold back tears, and keep myself from yelling that I don't live in a #&&$^'in trash pile. I am essentially living among unsorted boxes of items that I don't want, I want, or maybe have been damaged and might should be thrown out- but are not garbage exactly! But what is worse is he has not been the first to say this, but he was the person closest to me to say this.
If it were all trash it would be no freaking issue. I could easily throw trash away piece by piece!!! But I can't move a 20lbs. box that has clothing to a place that I can sort through the clothes and see what I should donate or keep without hurting myself, but I do it anyway, then I can't go thru the box because I am hurt so badly.
Another problem aside from the pain that got worse, is where it went. For nearly this entire time I would draw like a tree branching out to the right, and a little to the left, and down my spine and legs.. but now there is an identical branch on the left.... and my spine keeps 'popping' like joints do, all the time, and often it is painful. Even slightest of movements can cause my spine to shift.
----WARNING THE FOLLOWING DISCUSSES INCONTINENCE----
------------------will make note when safe----------------
So pain in a new area, and then something else I was suffering from for the last 13 days, incontinence. But for the last 3, it's been serious. For 10 days it was more a slip here and there, but then Tuesday it would occasionally just... leak out of me... then yesterday it was pouring out of me, I kept changing my Depends so often, it was disgusting and hard to keep clean, and I kept falling, then eventually I was in too much pain and too weak to get up. Every little motion seemed to allow more fecal matter to fall out of my body.
Bowel incontinence is usually way more tame than what has been happening to me in the last three days. It is more often what I was suffering for 10 days, a slip here are there. You mean to flatulate and something comes out, or you are leaky. But now, it is uncontrollable and completely unpredictable. So the doctor suggested, laxatives! Yes, laxatives. Take them three times a day and sit on the toilet for as long as it takes for an attack to come on, until it becomes a routine.
I must say, that the is last thing that I would have ever guess could help incontinence.
-------------done-------------------------
So the pain in the new area of my body, and that I was suffering from incontinence for some time, it was recommended that I now use laxatives. Now I have already lost 20 or 25 lbs. in the last month... now I am wondering if I use laxatives to try to control my bowels, will this lead to even more weight loss? I even mentioned the weight loss, and he suggested that it might even add to further loss...
Am I really that fat?
--The new father I live with- how he's like my own father--
The family that I live with, the father Tony, he makes me feel that way. I am fat and lazy. He praises his eldest daughter Christina SO much. "Look how fit she is." 'Look how well she does in school." "Look how well she does in work." "Look how well she does, being in music videos!"
It all goes back to that, I must be lazy because I don't work... because I hurt... Well I don't go out with friends, yet I have no friends around here to go out with! Also that I am so fat, I always hear it, I am aware that I am fat, that I am a huge ugly disgusting fat cow, but it is not because I am lazy!
I have attempted many times to eat just below my basic metabolic rate (before injured) and even way below it, and lost not even a lb. But now, I am on levothyroxin, it turned out my thyroid was not working properly, and in a month I have lost more weight than I have in 8 years of diets and literal starving myself to try to lose weight. I know how it feels to have eaten so little food you pass out, faint, stumble, fall, be unable to see properly, lose menses, and still not lose a pound.
But my muscles ached from being worked so hard with exercise... over a hundred reps. I counted every calorie that entered my body. I had a tictac, it went in my food journal. Unlike all the asshole nurses and doctors who never believed me when I said that I had kept food journals before. They think just because a person is overweight or fat, that they are idiots, they do not know what they are talking about, and they are lying when they are talking about anything. But, if I had gum, it went down, unless it was 0 calories on the pack... but I still wrote it down... and still not a pound, lol.
Hey, it is kind of like with my medication. I won't even remember where my pain meds will be, but I mention that it is prescribed, and the doctor will not believe that I haven't taken that day, let alone in several days. ...and I still don't know where the bottle is.
Years ago, my father would call me fat and lazy, too. I would starve myself, exercise as hard as I could, and it did nothing... until of all people, my step mother mentioned to a doctor that she had noticed I didn't touch much of my dinners sometimes. They checked my blood and my thyroid was not working. Soon I lost a lot of weight, and began growing several inches, too. But my father still saw me as lazy, even though I did everything that he asked of me.
I do everything that I can possibly do. I keep trying to do things in the house to clean up. Doing the dishes that everyone else leaves behind, until I am trembling from horrible pain, and I collapse on the floor and thank God that no one is home to see me.
Also Tony assumes that I have had no schooling either..... I worked in a pharmacy before I was injured, and I have a job guaranteed if I were to be better tomorrow. I am a very good pharmacy technician, it is something that I like doing, and I do well. But I took classes in high school!
How many other people work full time, are models, are in music videos, and are in school?? It is not fair to compare... And then
"A messy home shows the sign of the characters who live there, you should see the characters that live here!"
is where I can see when I come home from the hospital.
Tony, the father of the family I live with, he often mentioned that his mother is a hoarder so he is used to seeing messy rooms like mine. Oh, and his mother, she always blames that her house is messy because no one will come and help her. That is the only reason that she has a hoarder house, is because no one comes to help her clean up... which he began mentioning after the storage locker got emptied and Nathan, my best friend stopped coming over and organizing the boxes and items. We just left everything as is, because he was tired, and he hasn't returned to help me fix them.
So I keep saying that I need someone to help me, I am waiting for help again, like I had had before. My room was like this several times before, then clean, then like this, and then clean, several consecutive times back and forth. It costs Nathan a lot of gas to come out here though, and no one else so easily knows me as well as he does (and is as tall and strong) so he's best to help me.
But Tony essentially is pushing in my face that I am using the excuse that I don't have someone to help me as a reason to keep my room like a storage locker. I hate my room like this, and now after seeing that placard sign with that written on it... I don't even want to leave my room, leave my door unlocked, or leave my door open at all.
When I came to this house, they said that they wanted someone who would NOT be closed up in their room all the time. I often like going into the living room and joining the family for functions... but now I feel very driven away. Tony seems much like my own father, manipulative and completely blinded by his own views.
The neurosurgeon who works with mine for my back, he said I shouldn't be lifting more than 10 lbs and he was disturbed when I told him all of what I just wrote above... that I felt pretty much blackmailed into having to try to clean up my room, lifting boxes and items that weigh way more than 20lbs let alone 10lbs lol... ....he was not amuse though, he was very serious that I should STOP lifting anything immediately. So now I have no idea what to do, because I saw that sign, it is very clear that father wants me to clean, but my back surgeon wants me not to!
If only I had the guts to show him....
Saw that sign out in the living room of house that I rent a room of, and I broke down.
So yesterday, I did wind up going to the ER. When it came time for me to get a ride home it was clear I had no ride, but they left me in the waiting room anyway. I called every friend I could imagine before finally calling one who I believe has been trying to avoid me for several reasons.......... I wound up sobbing apologies in the backseat as I was driven home. Especially because he kept stating that he really needed to get home, and it was 10, and I needed something to eat... I asked him if we could swing by a fast food place- no we could not, alright that's fine. I needed the food to take my heaviest pain killer, and I was in agony, which was why I wanted food.
Then I took all the courage I could, between sobs and asked if he could come inside my house and microwave me something that would take under 5 minutes, so he got upset and said he would just take me to a fast food place! And the entire time the girl that... I suppose he likes and she likes him was there, and I could feel the hate from her.
At the hospital, I went to VCMC and saw Dr. Spier? I think that's how you spell it, anyways he is a great doctor. He ordered an MRI and I got no pain killers before or after, he had ordered a shot for before, but in the confusion of a trauma patient coming in, it was lost and forgotten. MRIs for me are very painful-my lower back is where the injury and pain stem from and lying on your back on a hard surface and remaining still for a long period of time puts a lot of pressure right on that hurt spot, so they are agonizing for me. After the MRI I was a quivering pile of pain, and he told me I could take more than the directions indicated for a day or two of my own pain meds, they would give me none-so I got some water and took what I could. ...Oh, and I should actually TAKE my pain medications when I am in pain... I don't take them enough.
I come to the hospital with bottles filled nearly a month ago, and some of them are nearly untouched. (Oh the first nurse I saw, she totally did NOT believe that I hadn't taken any pain medications yet that day, she was like, 'yeah, right, you lying whore,' in her stare.) But when the doctor came he knew me and knew I could be trusted, I explained I didn't want any contraindications. Which is a good valid reason not to go chugging on medications... and I don't take them often because you build tolerance... but... I just don't take them when I need to.
I've lost 20/25lbs for sure, the hospital's scale is accurate if I trust it to the crappy cheap one I have here. I was told the weight loss should not be affecting my back at all. If anything I did this to myself.
Trying to organize the things in my room. It looks like a storage locker right now. Why? Because on the 30th of last month my room was clean and we needed to clear the storage locker-- so it went into my bedroom. So far no one has come to help me sort things, so I keep trying to do it on my own and hurting myself badly.
I shouldn't be lifting even 10lbs the doctor who works with my back surgeon told me. He was shocked when I told him what I had been doing all because people were saying such cruel things to me about the state of my room. I throw my trash out. I take care of dishes in a timely enough manner. My room is more "clean" than many completely uncluttered rooms that I have seen.
What got to me really bad was a close friend saying more than once that he was going to bring garbage bags, yes plural, to help me clean. As if I am living among refuse and I am just too lazy to throw it out. The first time he said it, I had to bite my tongue and hold back tears, and keep myself from yelling that I don't live in a #&&$^'in trash pile. I am essentially living among unsorted boxes of items that I don't want, I want, or maybe have been damaged and might should be thrown out- but are not garbage exactly! But what is worse is he has not been the first to say this, but he was the person closest to me to say this.
If it were all trash it would be no freaking issue. I could easily throw trash away piece by piece!!! But I can't move a 20lbs. box that has clothing to a place that I can sort through the clothes and see what I should donate or keep without hurting myself, but I do it anyway, then I can't go thru the box because I am hurt so badly.
Another problem aside from the pain that got worse, is where it went. For nearly this entire time I would draw like a tree branching out to the right, and a little to the left, and down my spine and legs.. but now there is an identical branch on the left.... and my spine keeps 'popping' like joints do, all the time, and often it is painful. Even slightest of movements can cause my spine to shift.
----WARNING THE FOLLOWING DISCUSSES INCONTINENCE----
------------------will make note when safe----------------
So pain in a new area, and then something else I was suffering from for the last 13 days, incontinence. But for the last 3, it's been serious. For 10 days it was more a slip here and there, but then Tuesday it would occasionally just... leak out of me... then yesterday it was pouring out of me, I kept changing my Depends so often, it was disgusting and hard to keep clean, and I kept falling, then eventually I was in too much pain and too weak to get up. Every little motion seemed to allow more fecal matter to fall out of my body.
Bowel incontinence is usually way more tame than what has been happening to me in the last three days. It is more often what I was suffering for 10 days, a slip here are there. You mean to flatulate and something comes out, or you are leaky. But now, it is uncontrollable and completely unpredictable. So the doctor suggested, laxatives! Yes, laxatives. Take them three times a day and sit on the toilet for as long as it takes for an attack to come on, until it becomes a routine.
I must say, that the is last thing that I would have ever guess could help incontinence.
-------------done-------------------------
So the pain in the new area of my body, and that I was suffering from incontinence for some time, it was recommended that I now use laxatives. Now I have already lost 20 or 25 lbs. in the last month... now I am wondering if I use laxatives to try to control my bowels, will this lead to even more weight loss? I even mentioned the weight loss, and he suggested that it might even add to further loss...
Am I really that fat?
--The new father I live with- how he's like my own father--
The family that I live with, the father Tony, he makes me feel that way. I am fat and lazy. He praises his eldest daughter Christina SO much. "Look how fit she is." 'Look how well she does in school." "Look how well she does in work." "Look how well she does, being in music videos!"
It all goes back to that, I must be lazy because I don't work... because I hurt... Well I don't go out with friends, yet I have no friends around here to go out with! Also that I am so fat, I always hear it, I am aware that I am fat, that I am a huge ugly disgusting fat cow, but it is not because I am lazy!
I have attempted many times to eat just below my basic metabolic rate (before injured) and even way below it, and lost not even a lb. But now, I am on levothyroxin, it turned out my thyroid was not working properly, and in a month I have lost more weight than I have in 8 years of diets and literal starving myself to try to lose weight. I know how it feels to have eaten so little food you pass out, faint, stumble, fall, be unable to see properly, lose menses, and still not lose a pound.
But my muscles ached from being worked so hard with exercise... over a hundred reps. I counted every calorie that entered my body. I had a tictac, it went in my food journal. Unlike all the asshole nurses and doctors who never believed me when I said that I had kept food journals before. They think just because a person is overweight or fat, that they are idiots, they do not know what they are talking about, and they are lying when they are talking about anything. But, if I had gum, it went down, unless it was 0 calories on the pack... but I still wrote it down... and still not a pound, lol.
Hey, it is kind of like with my medication. I won't even remember where my pain meds will be, but I mention that it is prescribed, and the doctor will not believe that I haven't taken that day, let alone in several days. ...and I still don't know where the bottle is.
Years ago, my father would call me fat and lazy, too. I would starve myself, exercise as hard as I could, and it did nothing... until of all people, my step mother mentioned to a doctor that she had noticed I didn't touch much of my dinners sometimes. They checked my blood and my thyroid was not working. Soon I lost a lot of weight, and began growing several inches, too. But my father still saw me as lazy, even though I did everything that he asked of me.
I do everything that I can possibly do. I keep trying to do things in the house to clean up. Doing the dishes that everyone else leaves behind, until I am trembling from horrible pain, and I collapse on the floor and thank God that no one is home to see me.
Also Tony assumes that I have had no schooling either..... I worked in a pharmacy before I was injured, and I have a job guaranteed if I were to be better tomorrow. I am a very good pharmacy technician, it is something that I like doing, and I do well. But I took classes in high school!
How many other people work full time, are models, are in music videos, and are in school?? It is not fair to compare... And then
"A messy home shows the sign of the characters who live there, you should see the characters that live here!"
is where I can see when I come home from the hospital.
Tony, the father of the family I live with, he often mentioned that his mother is a hoarder so he is used to seeing messy rooms like mine. Oh, and his mother, she always blames that her house is messy because no one will come and help her. That is the only reason that she has a hoarder house, is because no one comes to help her clean up... which he began mentioning after the storage locker got emptied and Nathan, my best friend stopped coming over and organizing the boxes and items. We just left everything as is, because he was tired, and he hasn't returned to help me fix them.
So I keep saying that I need someone to help me, I am waiting for help again, like I had had before. My room was like this several times before, then clean, then like this, and then clean, several consecutive times back and forth. It costs Nathan a lot of gas to come out here though, and no one else so easily knows me as well as he does (and is as tall and strong) so he's best to help me.
But Tony essentially is pushing in my face that I am using the excuse that I don't have someone to help me as a reason to keep my room like a storage locker. I hate my room like this, and now after seeing that placard sign with that written on it... I don't even want to leave my room, leave my door unlocked, or leave my door open at all.
When I came to this house, they said that they wanted someone who would NOT be closed up in their room all the time. I often like going into the living room and joining the family for functions... but now I feel very driven away. Tony seems much like my own father, manipulative and completely blinded by his own views.
The neurosurgeon who works with mine for my back, he said I shouldn't be lifting more than 10 lbs and he was disturbed when I told him all of what I just wrote above... that I felt pretty much blackmailed into having to try to clean up my room, lifting boxes and items that weigh way more than 20lbs let alone 10lbs lol... ....he was not amuse though, he was very serious that I should STOP lifting anything immediately. So now I have no idea what to do, because I saw that sign, it is very clear that father wants me to clean, but my back surgeon wants me not to!
If only I had the guts to show him....
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Limitations
Sunday I walked very far. I was looking for my phone, so I got out of my wheelchair and began to scour the sidewalk for it until I finally collapsed from pain and weakness in my legs. Monday and Tuesday (yesterday) left me in my room in so much pain, that I just wanted to be left alone.
I had information on my phone that was extremely important to me. Details of how my seizures felt, immediately after they occurred, and so much more. Oh, and my retainer has gone missing. So I am afraid that my teeth might become crooked like my sisters.
Everyone in my life who is older than me keeps harassing me about my situation, and I finally broke. People who are even my age are at my throat about how I live; they all assume that I am lazy and wasting all of my time doing nothing at all, because I am using my injury as an excuse to take a very extended vacation.
My back has never been causing the sheer amount of agony that is causing me now. Often every step that I take makes me want to cry out in pain.
"Why don't you go back to school?"
"My niece studied something about pharmacy and she works at Walgreens now."
"You could take classes online."
"You don't have to take many classes."
I took one class a little over a year ago now. I missed many days because my back hurt so much from just attending the class for a couple hours twice weekly... Also the pain from sitting up to study and do my homework. I finally had to drop out right at the end because the pain was too much, it overtook me. Now I am maybe in four times that sort of pain, when I try to do the simplest of things like draw a bath.
Also, I studied to work at a pharmacy, too. Why does everyone assume I have no education? I took three years of college level classes during high school! My English teacher began teaching at my highschool because the college she was working at told her she needed to make her class easier, so she quit and came to teach the AP class at my high school where she could make it even harder! (I am completely serious, not making this up.)
Also with the online classes, again I come into the issue of having to sit up straight for me to really draw attention. I can't be lying down to type... or writing. I am very hands on, I do better with books and papers... but, when I was doing so much better I couldn't even handle one class.
Yet, even if I explain all of this, I hear them asking me again about this.
I can blog because I can type upwards of 50 wpm, and this sort of writing flows from me. It is not something that I have to give much fore-thought. I think and my fingers type my thoughts.
I miss my work so much. I miss school even more. What I wouldn't give to have a few days in a lab with petri dishes and growing cultures and having to figure out what they were. That would be so much fun! ...Yeah, I might have an odd sort of idea of fun.
It all sort of reminds me of how the doctors treated about my weight. I've lost 25 lbs. so far, so maybe if I run into any new doctors they might react differently to me. People are so quick to make judgments and assumptions. Which reminds me that I heard someone use similar words like what I just said to her, and she reused them for good use. It makes me so happy that I am at least still not limited to being unable to help some.
Waiting to go to some big hospital in L.A. is really killing me. In the wait, everyone is going for my throat of what I am waiting for, and the only answer I can supply is I am waiting on the wait.... The barbs that have sunk in so deeply that I should be doing so many things that I am just not physically capable of have pushed me to injure myself.
My room is overfilled and unorganized with how things are placed, but a majority of things are too heavy for me to lift without injury, but I keep working on it anyway. So now I am sitting on my bed barely able to walk, and having to wear Depends for the last two days... but I only pushed myself because the people around me voiced the idea that I was using the excuse that I needed a person to help me as a reason that I wasn't doing it. Now I can't feel my legs... is that a better excuse?
I know that I should call 911, I was told when my legs go numb and everything gets this bad to do that, but I don't see the point in it anymore. I am just going to sit here in my pain until the feeling returns. Could be an hour, could be a day, who knows, but no one really cares much, except the one person subscribed to this blog.
I had information on my phone that was extremely important to me. Details of how my seizures felt, immediately after they occurred, and so much more. Oh, and my retainer has gone missing. So I am afraid that my teeth might become crooked like my sisters.
Everyone in my life who is older than me keeps harassing me about my situation, and I finally broke. People who are even my age are at my throat about how I live; they all assume that I am lazy and wasting all of my time doing nothing at all, because I am using my injury as an excuse to take a very extended vacation.
My back has never been causing the sheer amount of agony that is causing me now. Often every step that I take makes me want to cry out in pain.
"Why don't you go back to school?"
"My niece studied something about pharmacy and she works at Walgreens now."
"You could take classes online."
"You don't have to take many classes."
I took one class a little over a year ago now. I missed many days because my back hurt so much from just attending the class for a couple hours twice weekly... Also the pain from sitting up to study and do my homework. I finally had to drop out right at the end because the pain was too much, it overtook me. Now I am maybe in four times that sort of pain, when I try to do the simplest of things like draw a bath.
Also, I studied to work at a pharmacy, too. Why does everyone assume I have no education? I took three years of college level classes during high school! My English teacher began teaching at my highschool because the college she was working at told her she needed to make her class easier, so she quit and came to teach the AP class at my high school where she could make it even harder! (I am completely serious, not making this up.)
Also with the online classes, again I come into the issue of having to sit up straight for me to really draw attention. I can't be lying down to type... or writing. I am very hands on, I do better with books and papers... but, when I was doing so much better I couldn't even handle one class.
Yet, even if I explain all of this, I hear them asking me again about this.
I can blog because I can type upwards of 50 wpm, and this sort of writing flows from me. It is not something that I have to give much fore-thought. I think and my fingers type my thoughts.
I miss my work so much. I miss school even more. What I wouldn't give to have a few days in a lab with petri dishes and growing cultures and having to figure out what they were. That would be so much fun! ...Yeah, I might have an odd sort of idea of fun.
It all sort of reminds me of how the doctors treated about my weight. I've lost 25 lbs. so far, so maybe if I run into any new doctors they might react differently to me. People are so quick to make judgments and assumptions. Which reminds me that I heard someone use similar words like what I just said to her, and she reused them for good use. It makes me so happy that I am at least still not limited to being unable to help some.
Waiting to go to some big hospital in L.A. is really killing me. In the wait, everyone is going for my throat of what I am waiting for, and the only answer I can supply is I am waiting on the wait.... The barbs that have sunk in so deeply that I should be doing so many things that I am just not physically capable of have pushed me to injure myself.
My room is overfilled and unorganized with how things are placed, but a majority of things are too heavy for me to lift without injury, but I keep working on it anyway. So now I am sitting on my bed barely able to walk, and having to wear Depends for the last two days... but I only pushed myself because the people around me voiced the idea that I was using the excuse that I needed a person to help me as a reason that I wasn't doing it. Now I can't feel my legs... is that a better excuse?
I know that I should call 911, I was told when my legs go numb and everything gets this bad to do that, but I don't see the point in it anymore. I am just going to sit here in my pain until the feeling returns. Could be an hour, could be a day, who knows, but no one really cares much, except the one person subscribed to this blog.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Rookee's Bar: Nightlife Disabled
So it was some time ago now, but a friend of mine had turned 21 in July, and I had my first chance since the last time a friend had turned 21 to go to a bar/club... So I went.
The place we wound up going to was a place called Rookee's in Ventura, CA. Here is their yelp. As soon as we went to enter I already felt out of my element. There was not a venue fee like the last place I had been, which was a great plus, and the dress code was much more lax, but one of our party who was wearing a plain tee-shirt was turned away, and he had to go back to his car to change shirts.
My purse was taken and inspected, which I understood, and expected, but they took my UN-opened bottle of water, stating that water was free (the other place I had been water had not been free) and I would have to get it inside if I needed it, and made me leave it outside. The other club I had been to before let me keep my bottle, but they only had bottles that they sold inside the club, cause they were higher end.
[Now THIS is a HUGE thing I now take issue with because when I was in there last night, there were young ghetto young men wearing large plain baggy white tee's and they had bottles of Gatorade and water that they brought with them straight from the outside. They were breaking both the dress code and the liquid policy that had been enforced on my party previously!]
But that is just the top crumb of ice of the iceberg of this place. OH I will keep linking reviews everytime you see a link to the name.
When I had gone to Rookee's before in July, I had a great time, for most of it. I had a bunch of narcotic medications in my purse, and I asked if it was a problem, perfectly ready to have it run back to the car, and I was told it was no problem, so long as I had my ID. The water was the ONLY issue. Then I was given clearance inside, and waited on a chair for our friend to return with proper attire to join us all.
The front security Rookee's staff actually seemed really nice! (I find that review-if true very hilarious by the way.) When some guy kept talking to me they made sure he wasn't bothering me, and when my friends finally came in they made sure that they were not harassing me, and they were friends, lol. Great, great, outdoor staff. If the rest of the staff were this well organized and kind, this place would be great.
In comparison, when I went last night, on Friday, it seems they upped security some with a light scanning for fake IDs. The man who was checking mine was also scratching it all over and bending it all around nearly trying to break it, as if he were sure I was under-aged... which I guess I shall take that as a compliment? Once I finally retrieved my ID, I offered my bag to be checked, but I was waved through and shrugged it off. I did take some prescription medication within 20 minutes of my arrival both times I came there.In July, and last night in September.
So the taking of my water bottle pissed me off because I like having my own personal water when being in places like bars, but I got over it quick, although with what happened I wish I hadn't. And the whole ID scrutiny thing from last night was just amusing.
Last night I checked around, didn't see much going on, so I plopped down on a seat and began to talk with my friend. He ordered me a screwdriver. LAST time I am going to order a screwdriver at Rookee's without talking to the bartender myself. That review might be old, but... oh here! Another review that is newer saying the same thing. Like watered down, bottom shelf, charged like top shelf, complete crap... ugh, it was rather disgusting, and I usually like screwdrivers a lot, that is the only reason I usually drink them! Or else because someone else paid for them, and I feel obligated to. Thank god for the thin slice of orange that was on the glass, it was like sip, orange suck, sip, orange suck.
But we were talking for quite a while, hours.
Now there is something that has been plaguing me for some time, many many months... Actually years now. Most likely due to my thyroid. I randomly can randomly start to nod off like completely in the middle of being completely aware and awake, because the doctors are still working on getting my thyroid levels normalized.
I've fallen asleep in the middle of eating, like literally food in mouth, french fries for example. I was falling asleep trying to eat pumpkin pie and kept vehemently arguing with my friend for him to not take it away because I was eating the damned thing, unaware that I kept falling asleep. Playing the computer. Suddenly I am dead in World of Warcraft. Suddenly the movie I was watching on Netflix is over and I am very confused.
Well since I was put on my thyroid medication about three weeks ago now, I have lost weight and these incidents have decreased dramatically, but they still occur some.
I guess at some point that happened to me while I was talking to Nathan. All I really need to do it be told, pop a caffeine pill, shake myself and then I am good. He didn't tell me that I was losing time, instead a bouncer came over and demanded to me that I needed to leave and I needed to leave NOW.
Well I live in a civilized society. This Rookee's like's to purport itself as a higher end place, especially with how much it charges for it's #$^ing drinks... So when I asked why I was being told I needed to leave, of course the answer I received was "You have to leave now!"
Um... yes, you just said that dude... could I get a reason.
Now, this had actually happened to me the first time I went to Rookee's back in July. I was thrown out after on the dance floor I was having a great time until this guy came up and started to dance with me. First it seemed fun, funny, but then he was like all over me, and I kept trying to move away, but I was backed into a wall! I was beginning to panic and then, I saw security! My heart fluttered, I was thinking, oh my god I am saved!!!
"You both need to go, NOW!"
I was shocked, scared, and surprised as to why I needed to go. I had been trying to get away from this guy who had been... dancing me up? I guess that would be the best way to phrase it, but there were two bouncers there. One had grabbed him, and the other guy gently grabbed my arm, my good arm, and my cane clattered to the floor and I nearly fell down from the sudden change of momentum and lack of support.
I am hoping that he hadn't realized that I actually had had a cane, and he let go and picked it up and handed it to me and he gave me a minute to set my purse on my shoulder straight, and offered his arm for me to take with my free hand, so I could use my cane, and once we got out off the dance floor I paused and held him back and pleaded if I could hang back away from the man who had been danced practically on me! I had been trying to get away from him. Also why was I being asked to leave? I wasn't trying to break any rules... I was just having fun dancing and didn't know what to do when that guy got... so aggressive.
He told me it wasn't how that guy was dancing on me, it was because I was obviously drunk.
I had had no alcohol the entire time that I had been there.
I agreed to leave once I saw the man leave, and he told me that he would bring me the manager to speak to because I hadn't had any alcohol to bring, the bouncer understanding my anxiety about the situation, and I walked steadily, with my cane, out the door to the outside where to my chagrine the man was outside the line of the outside portion of the bar. The outside bouncers said I could stay outside behind them until he departed, and they were very nice. They also told me that no manager was going to come. Now that I was outside the doors, that was it.
I was infuriated. Once my friends had come out, I was encouraging them to stay, but they didn't want to on behalf. I kept trying to get attention of the staff inside but was continually ignored, no manager would speak to me because I was a girl drunk off of the cup of water I had drunk... that someone drugged.
Somewhere between my friend's friend's friend fetching it, something got into it, and it reacted badly with something else I took. I was a tad unsteady on the dancefloor, I had been dancing without my cane for a while, when the bouncer took me, I had been using my cane again, I had needed my cane to steady myself. But after yelling that I wanted a manager for around 45 minutes of getting kicked out, waiting outside, pacing outside, and such, whatever was in the water ....or did ...a staff gave me some water too....
When I was pulled off the floor a staff gave me water...
Well regardless, within 45 minutes I went from I just needed my cane to steady myself to suddenly I felt very impaired. I'd never in my life been like that. Not even when I'd had percocet, been given too high a dose of Dilaudid at the hospital, this was something even worse than that.... it was even worse than when I had OD'd on medication and alcohol somehow...how was that possible? It must have been something new. It took two people to literally walk me into my room that night... All cause they wouldn't let me have my water bottle, but of course ghetto guys can bring theirs in. I should have gone to the hospital, gotten blood drawn and held the club liable.
Well last night I go in I actually did have an alcoholic beverage, sometime around 10:30, maybe 11. We sat down and we had a lot to catch up on. We haven't seen one another in quite some time. Thankfully when he got us water it tasted a lot better than the water I remember having before, and I guess I started to drop off at around 12:30 or 45, but because I am completely unaware that it is happening unless I see a clock or some other way to really gauge time, I had no idea it was happening... until- "YOU- YOU HAVE TO LEAVE!"
So we are back at this part of my story about last night. It had been hours since I'd consumed any alcohol but whilst talking to Nathan occasionally I would close my eyes for a few moments, but still work my mouth speaking to him. My contacts getting dry. I could barely see the man now adressing me, so I went into my purse to get my contact solution, knocking out several prescriptions in the process to try to rewet my eyes as I adressed him as politely as I could in the loud environment. Nathan, my friend, was sitting to my right, blocking my immediate way to stand and leave, and the bouncer was addressing me from right behind me. "Excuse me, I'm sorry, I don't know what rule I broke, why do I have to leave? Are you closing?"
Nathan was already trying to dissaude me from asking the man the why, and getting me to go, but I knew from experience once I left, that there would be no discussion. So as I rewet my eyes and I could see much clearer, the man simply puffed his chest bigger as if to appear more threatening and said, "NO. YOU JUST HAVE TO LEAVE NOW!"
Then he spotted the prescription medications that were in my purse and yelled at me in an even louder and almost accusatory voice, "WHAT ARE THOSE?! HOW DID YOU GET THOSE IN HERE?!!"
"Those are my prescription medications for medical conditions I have. I offered my purse to be ch--" I was going to say I offered my purse to be checked at the door, but I was waved through, so I figured that I was fine. I had been here just a couple months ago with less prescriptions in my purse, and it had been no problem, the only problem that I had been told of was bringing in bottled water.
"YOU CAN'T HAVE THOSE IN HERE!!!" he screamed at me, moving closer to my face. I am sure that if I was a man, he would have grabbed my color... maybe if I had been wearing a color he would have. Thankfully I had a low cut tank top that offered little to be grabbed and brought to his face so I was able to back away from the angry scary man.
"I've been here before and it wasn't a problem!" I retorted, trying to regain some control, because he is just some bouncer. "I need to speak to your manager."
"NO! You need to get out of here now!!!" He yelled at me, moving up the steps that were towards Nathan and Nathan moved out of his way leaving me with my cane and my purse and items on the table..
"I am willing to leave, but I still need to speak to a manager." I again requested as I meticulously, but quickly and deftly, put everything away. Completely ready to walk away from the booth I did not get out.
"YOU need to GO now!" the man yelled at me in frustration as if I could not get it wrapped around my head that I needed to be gone with. At this point I wanted to see a managerial staff or be forced out at this point, or hear a better reason as to why I was being asked to leave....like... any reason?
"I still haven't been told the reason you are removing me." I stated calmly. This man, he appeared like every step I was withholding from him simply to piss him off, but I was merely trying to be treated like a decent human being and not some animal.
Another staff member comes up and notifies me that despite my articulate questioning of why I am being asked to leave, "You are clearly intoxicated, that's why you have to go!"
"I'm intoxicated?" I asked this new person, incredulously not believing their gall. "I had a single drink hours ago."
"We saw all the prescriptions that were in your purse and you are obviously intoxicated." The man smartly replied. I nodded to him, agreeing that in his eyes, well yes, this very well could seem like I was under the influence or high, intoxicated being the completely wrong term and the business having no legal right to throw me out on those grounds of be being affected of side affects of my own prescription medication, but alright, I won't argue pharmacology, and my specific issues. "I saw you doze off a couple times, you are under something."
So I sighed, stood up steadily with no waver, but did use my cane as my back was hurting, rubbed it a moment, apologizing asking if I could have a second before I headed towards the door. "I actually have a hormone issue that causes me to randomly fall asleep at times, but I'm working on treating that, but I will assume that such medical conditions and pharmacology are above your expertise, sir," I said, not sure if it was loud enough for him to hear. Turns out he was the manager.
He told me that if I were to come again that prescriptions would be checked in the front like with the coats, which actually would be something that'd put my mind at ease-- I wouldn't feel like I have to guard them. Grab a couple for a night, and that's it. But still, my medical issues, that I would be thrown out again if I came alone... drugged? What if I hadn't had friends...?
Within the hour I was out of it after being drugged by that simple water back in April, thank you bouncers for catching the drugged girl and saying she was drunk and throwing her ass out in the street.
Oh and the symptoms I was displaying when I was "clearly intoxicated" with my friend Nathan, sometimes when I have short missing periods of times like that is when I might have a seizure. Is this establishment going to be a place that you are only going to be allowed to go if you are perfectly healthy, able-bodied, and not currently on any medication, and if you get drugged- heh- good luck- they will put you on the street so the person who drugged you can try to get you in their car.
I mean, I like the music, I like the scene... but how do you change 80% of the staff, and the low quality liquor. It seems like they are bottom welling a lot.
I hope I will be able to update this someday and say that my mind has been changed.
If anyone knows of fun places in Ventura that you can dance, enjoy nice music house, trance, even metal, I am always open to hear about it.
The place we wound up going to was a place called Rookee's in Ventura, CA. Here is their yelp. As soon as we went to enter I already felt out of my element. There was not a venue fee like the last place I had been, which was a great plus, and the dress code was much more lax, but one of our party who was wearing a plain tee-shirt was turned away, and he had to go back to his car to change shirts.
My purse was taken and inspected, which I understood, and expected, but they took my UN-opened bottle of water, stating that water was free (the other place I had been water had not been free) and I would have to get it inside if I needed it, and made me leave it outside. The other club I had been to before let me keep my bottle, but they only had bottles that they sold inside the club, cause they were higher end.
[Now THIS is a HUGE thing I now take issue with because when I was in there last night, there were young ghetto young men wearing large plain baggy white tee's and they had bottles of Gatorade and water that they brought with them straight from the outside. They were breaking both the dress code and the liquid policy that had been enforced on my party previously!]
But that is just the top crumb of ice of the iceberg of this place. OH I will keep linking reviews everytime you see a link to the name.
When I had gone to Rookee's before in July, I had a great time, for most of it. I had a bunch of narcotic medications in my purse, and I asked if it was a problem, perfectly ready to have it run back to the car, and I was told it was no problem, so long as I had my ID. The water was the ONLY issue. Then I was given clearance inside, and waited on a chair for our friend to return with proper attire to join us all.
The front security Rookee's staff actually seemed really nice! (I find that review-if true very hilarious by the way.) When some guy kept talking to me they made sure he wasn't bothering me, and when my friends finally came in they made sure that they were not harassing me, and they were friends, lol. Great, great, outdoor staff. If the rest of the staff were this well organized and kind, this place would be great.
In comparison, when I went last night, on Friday, it seems they upped security some with a light scanning for fake IDs. The man who was checking mine was also scratching it all over and bending it all around nearly trying to break it, as if he were sure I was under-aged... which I guess I shall take that as a compliment? Once I finally retrieved my ID, I offered my bag to be checked, but I was waved through and shrugged it off. I did take some prescription medication within 20 minutes of my arrival both times I came there.In July, and last night in September.
So the taking of my water bottle pissed me off because I like having my own personal water when being in places like bars, but I got over it quick, although with what happened I wish I hadn't. And the whole ID scrutiny thing from last night was just amusing.
Last night I checked around, didn't see much going on, so I plopped down on a seat and began to talk with my friend. He ordered me a screwdriver. LAST time I am going to order a screwdriver at Rookee's without talking to the bartender myself. That review might be old, but... oh here! Another review that is newer saying the same thing. Like watered down, bottom shelf, charged like top shelf, complete crap... ugh, it was rather disgusting, and I usually like screwdrivers a lot, that is the only reason I usually drink them! Or else because someone else paid for them, and I feel obligated to. Thank god for the thin slice of orange that was on the glass, it was like sip, orange suck, sip, orange suck.
But we were talking for quite a while, hours.
Now there is something that has been plaguing me for some time, many many months... Actually years now. Most likely due to my thyroid. I randomly can randomly start to nod off like completely in the middle of being completely aware and awake, because the doctors are still working on getting my thyroid levels normalized.
I've fallen asleep in the middle of eating, like literally food in mouth, french fries for example. I was falling asleep trying to eat pumpkin pie and kept vehemently arguing with my friend for him to not take it away because I was eating the damned thing, unaware that I kept falling asleep. Playing the computer. Suddenly I am dead in World of Warcraft. Suddenly the movie I was watching on Netflix is over and I am very confused.
Well since I was put on my thyroid medication about three weeks ago now, I have lost weight and these incidents have decreased dramatically, but they still occur some.
I guess at some point that happened to me while I was talking to Nathan. All I really need to do it be told, pop a caffeine pill, shake myself and then I am good. He didn't tell me that I was losing time, instead a bouncer came over and demanded to me that I needed to leave and I needed to leave NOW.
Well I live in a civilized society. This Rookee's like's to purport itself as a higher end place, especially with how much it charges for it's #$^ing drinks... So when I asked why I was being told I needed to leave, of course the answer I received was "You have to leave now!"
Um... yes, you just said that dude... could I get a reason.
Now, this had actually happened to me the first time I went to Rookee's back in July. I was thrown out after on the dance floor I was having a great time until this guy came up and started to dance with me. First it seemed fun, funny, but then he was like all over me, and I kept trying to move away, but I was backed into a wall! I was beginning to panic and then, I saw security! My heart fluttered, I was thinking, oh my god I am saved!!!
"You both need to go, NOW!"
I was shocked, scared, and surprised as to why I needed to go. I had been trying to get away from this guy who had been... dancing me up? I guess that would be the best way to phrase it, but there were two bouncers there. One had grabbed him, and the other guy gently grabbed my arm, my good arm, and my cane clattered to the floor and I nearly fell down from the sudden change of momentum and lack of support.
I am hoping that he hadn't realized that I actually had had a cane, and he let go and picked it up and handed it to me and he gave me a minute to set my purse on my shoulder straight, and offered his arm for me to take with my free hand, so I could use my cane, and once we got out off the dance floor I paused and held him back and pleaded if I could hang back away from the man who had been danced practically on me! I had been trying to get away from him. Also why was I being asked to leave? I wasn't trying to break any rules... I was just having fun dancing and didn't know what to do when that guy got... so aggressive.
He told me it wasn't how that guy was dancing on me, it was because I was obviously drunk.
I had had no alcohol the entire time that I had been there.
I agreed to leave once I saw the man leave, and he told me that he would bring me the manager to speak to because I hadn't had any alcohol to bring, the bouncer understanding my anxiety about the situation, and I walked steadily, with my cane, out the door to the outside where to my chagrine the man was outside the line of the outside portion of the bar. The outside bouncers said I could stay outside behind them until he departed, and they were very nice. They also told me that no manager was going to come. Now that I was outside the doors, that was it.
I was infuriated. Once my friends had come out, I was encouraging them to stay, but they didn't want to on behalf. I kept trying to get attention of the staff inside but was continually ignored, no manager would speak to me because I was a girl drunk off of the cup of water I had drunk... that someone drugged.
Somewhere between my friend's friend's friend fetching it, something got into it, and it reacted badly with something else I took. I was a tad unsteady on the dancefloor, I had been dancing without my cane for a while, when the bouncer took me, I had been using my cane again, I had needed my cane to steady myself. But after yelling that I wanted a manager for around 45 minutes of getting kicked out, waiting outside, pacing outside, and such, whatever was in the water ....or did ...a staff gave me some water too....
When I was pulled off the floor a staff gave me water...
Well regardless, within 45 minutes I went from I just needed my cane to steady myself to suddenly I felt very impaired. I'd never in my life been like that. Not even when I'd had percocet, been given too high a dose of Dilaudid at the hospital, this was something even worse than that.... it was even worse than when I had OD'd on medication and alcohol somehow...how was that possible? It must have been something new. It took two people to literally walk me into my room that night... All cause they wouldn't let me have my water bottle, but of course ghetto guys can bring theirs in. I should have gone to the hospital, gotten blood drawn and held the club liable.
Well last night I go in I actually did have an alcoholic beverage, sometime around 10:30, maybe 11. We sat down and we had a lot to catch up on. We haven't seen one another in quite some time. Thankfully when he got us water it tasted a lot better than the water I remember having before, and I guess I started to drop off at around 12:30 or 45, but because I am completely unaware that it is happening unless I see a clock or some other way to really gauge time, I had no idea it was happening... until- "YOU- YOU HAVE TO LEAVE!"
So we are back at this part of my story about last night. It had been hours since I'd consumed any alcohol but whilst talking to Nathan occasionally I would close my eyes for a few moments, but still work my mouth speaking to him. My contacts getting dry. I could barely see the man now adressing me, so I went into my purse to get my contact solution, knocking out several prescriptions in the process to try to rewet my eyes as I adressed him as politely as I could in the loud environment. Nathan, my friend, was sitting to my right, blocking my immediate way to stand and leave, and the bouncer was addressing me from right behind me. "Excuse me, I'm sorry, I don't know what rule I broke, why do I have to leave? Are you closing?"
Nathan was already trying to dissaude me from asking the man the why, and getting me to go, but I knew from experience once I left, that there would be no discussion. So as I rewet my eyes and I could see much clearer, the man simply puffed his chest bigger as if to appear more threatening and said, "NO. YOU JUST HAVE TO LEAVE NOW!"
Then he spotted the prescription medications that were in my purse and yelled at me in an even louder and almost accusatory voice, "WHAT ARE THOSE?! HOW DID YOU GET THOSE IN HERE?!!"
"Those are my prescription medications for medical conditions I have. I offered my purse to be ch--" I was going to say I offered my purse to be checked at the door, but I was waved through, so I figured that I was fine. I had been here just a couple months ago with less prescriptions in my purse, and it had been no problem, the only problem that I had been told of was bringing in bottled water.
"YOU CAN'T HAVE THOSE IN HERE!!!" he screamed at me, moving closer to my face. I am sure that if I was a man, he would have grabbed my color... maybe if I had been wearing a color he would have. Thankfully I had a low cut tank top that offered little to be grabbed and brought to his face so I was able to back away from the angry scary man.
"I've been here before and it wasn't a problem!" I retorted, trying to regain some control, because he is just some bouncer. "I need to speak to your manager."
"NO! You need to get out of here now!!!" He yelled at me, moving up the steps that were towards Nathan and Nathan moved out of his way leaving me with my cane and my purse and items on the table..
"I am willing to leave, but I still need to speak to a manager." I again requested as I meticulously, but quickly and deftly, put everything away. Completely ready to walk away from the booth I did not get out.
"YOU need to GO now!" the man yelled at me in frustration as if I could not get it wrapped around my head that I needed to be gone with. At this point I wanted to see a managerial staff or be forced out at this point, or hear a better reason as to why I was being asked to leave....like... any reason?
"I still haven't been told the reason you are removing me." I stated calmly. This man, he appeared like every step I was withholding from him simply to piss him off, but I was merely trying to be treated like a decent human being and not some animal.
Another staff member comes up and notifies me that despite my articulate questioning of why I am being asked to leave, "You are clearly intoxicated, that's why you have to go!"
"I'm intoxicated?" I asked this new person, incredulously not believing their gall. "I had a single drink hours ago."
"We saw all the prescriptions that were in your purse and you are obviously intoxicated." The man smartly replied. I nodded to him, agreeing that in his eyes, well yes, this very well could seem like I was under the influence or high, intoxicated being the completely wrong term and the business having no legal right to throw me out on those grounds of be being affected of side affects of my own prescription medication, but alright, I won't argue pharmacology, and my specific issues. "I saw you doze off a couple times, you are under something."
So I sighed, stood up steadily with no waver, but did use my cane as my back was hurting, rubbed it a moment, apologizing asking if I could have a second before I headed towards the door. "I actually have a hormone issue that causes me to randomly fall asleep at times, but I'm working on treating that, but I will assume that such medical conditions and pharmacology are above your expertise, sir," I said, not sure if it was loud enough for him to hear. Turns out he was the manager.
He told me that if I were to come again that prescriptions would be checked in the front like with the coats, which actually would be something that'd put my mind at ease-- I wouldn't feel like I have to guard them. Grab a couple for a night, and that's it. But still, my medical issues, that I would be thrown out again if I came alone... drugged? What if I hadn't had friends...?
Within the hour I was out of it after being drugged by that simple water back in April, thank you bouncers for catching the drugged girl and saying she was drunk and throwing her ass out in the street.
Oh and the symptoms I was displaying when I was "clearly intoxicated" with my friend Nathan, sometimes when I have short missing periods of times like that is when I might have a seizure. Is this establishment going to be a place that you are only going to be allowed to go if you are perfectly healthy, able-bodied, and not currently on any medication, and if you get drugged- heh- good luck- they will put you on the street so the person who drugged you can try to get you in their car.
I mean, I like the music, I like the scene... but how do you change 80% of the staff, and the low quality liquor. It seems like they are bottom welling a lot.
I hope I will be able to update this someday and say that my mind has been changed.
If anyone knows of fun places in Ventura that you can dance, enjoy nice music house, trance, even metal, I am always open to hear about it.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Facebook and Me -My Back, Thyroid, and Seizures
So I saw a Life Recovery Coach today. I had an appointment to help me develop tools for betterment of my life... I think.
Really it was a meeting where we sat and spoke for over an hour and the lady had no real idea of what to do nor of how to really help me. She did have a couple good suggestions. Blog more. Use Facebook. Use more social media because my back is so limiting physically.
Today was one of the most enlightening and hardest days of my life. I feel conflict and strife struggle withing my heart as I sit here and write this. I plan to post this on Facebook, as many people won't know me, I may as well explain, housing for me is tenuous. Very tenuous.
Previous posts though, and the other blog does explain things.
No one though knows where I live now.
WHERE I AM LIVING:
I live in Oxnard right now.
It is L.A.ish
I thought that when I came to this home that I now stay in that I found a nice loving family that was a mother and a father with three daughters. One my age, one younger, and one just a child. I soon found out that the eldest had a different mother, the middle a different father, and the youngest was the only one who was the child of both parents. This was only well after I had moved and settled in.
By this point in time I had already decided that I wanted to stay in this place. I liked this family that had opened themselves up to me. They had gambled deciding to take me in, especially because I have a guarantor instead of myself currently covering my rent....
It was the fastest place that I could find because I was homeless at the time. It was a huge rip off being $500 for a tiny 10x10 room that didn't even have a closet.... But I am too nice and so is Gigi, and neither of us have tried to argue.
What got me was that when I came here... I was told, "welcome home," as I came in... It made me cry.
But now I am beginning to wonder if perhaps that this father cares more about the money than he does the family that I fell to care for, that I found so charmingly kind that I wanted so badly to be a part...
I am afraid that I am living with a man who is much alike my father... He is money-hungry, already over-charging me for a room, tricking me into thinking that he cares mildly about me, he has already successfully fooled me that he cared for two of his daughters... slowly I am seeing that he cares poorly about his elder daughters.
It is so chillingly like my own father that I am desperately trying to ignore that my room is tiny and overpriced, and that the family is dissolving. That I hear arguments breakout and yelling go on. I cover my ears and hear my mom and sister screaming at each other before my sister begins to throw objects down the hallway towards the living room and I snap out of it and realize that my sister not here with me in California... I am reliving bad memories... living in this place that I thought was a loving home.
"And they say I, exhale the lie, again"
from White Lies, a song I am listening to right now.... yes.... so many white lies being exposed as the cracks in the facade fall apart and break open and I get a real glimpse into what this family really is. I try to cling desperately onto the hope that maybe there is more, maybe there is a chance that they can be strong, but I can already see them falling apart.... or mostly the father is leading them to breaking them apart. I really look up to him and like him so much, so the conflicted feelings I have are difficult to deal with.
As a parent there should be some expectation that you should help your child if they need help and you can offer it. Don't have children if you can't support them, is my thinking. Well, try not to, because unfortunately shit does happen. But, the father I live with, it seems like he is suddenly asking things of his children due to his his own financial situation than any other logical changes or occurrences. He is demanding changes without any sort of compromise, and punishing without any sort of understanding... It's sort of like my father... well except for the financial part, my father is was like whim of his new wife.
I want a home so badly... I have a phobia of losing it once I have one, too. It took me months to finally refer to this tiny bedroom as home. I kept referring to it as 'the house', or 'the room', for a long time.
My mother died when I was only twelve. I remember standing there beside her hospital bed, watching her go, praying to God that her heartbeat would start picking up again- instead of slowing down ever so steadily as it was. Finally she flatlined and that was it. I could never have guessed that within 72 hours my father was going to be on his computer looking for dates with other women.
All of that began a long journey in my life that began a road of further hardships, and many insecure living situations or periods. So I have a phobia of being homeless again. Especially because as I sometimes can barely walk the five feet to go to the bathroom; the government says that I am fit to work- and I am unsure how to appeal. The only help I have been really offered is an angry woman who is extremely unreliable and vents her anger at her own unreliability out on me, and is now refusing to see or help me. I keep asking for help, and they only tell me that I have to speak to the woman who won't speak to me. Thanks clinic handling my health!
Should I move? Find a place where there is a family that is not at odds with one another and I have a room that is actually worth $500 and maybe has a closet?
Even the idea gives me guilt... but it is tempting me as the drama keeps stirring up. I was floored when I heard that he wanted to ask $600 for another room that was barely bigger than my own, simply because 'it has a closet'. I bit my tongue at explaining that most people would not even charge $500 for my room... Because I know that my rather constant presence in the house is something that is of annoyance. Should that be another reason to leave? Find a place that realized that I am waiting for help for my back...
MY BACK:
For those who know my back problems, well, they have gotten abundantly worse. For those who don't know them, I have 5 herniated discs. They pinch several nerves, there is pressure on my spinal cord and I deal with serious issues from my hips and below ranging from loss of sensation to loss of any control or feeling. Sometimes I will collapse while trying to walk from pain, sometimes my legs will give out because the muscles become too weak to use-or the signals to them are too weak, or in a rare case I might walk myself into complete non-function of my lower half. When the last option occurs there may not even be reflex in my tendons which is a very serious issue, it means that there is NO neuro-connection to them... it is like the bottom part of me is unplugged.
So most days I lay in my room. I used to be able to go out more, see friends, movies, but no any longer. I don't really know anyone in Oxnard, but shortly before moving here my back became dramatically worse... I can barely go out to see the doctor, I have to take my heaviest pain medications while I am home trying to relax, when previously I would only touch them if I had been out of the house for hours or maybe done something stupid or accidental and hurt myself. I barely function now, and the father I live with seems distraught that I don't leave the house.
With whom? Where? I can't drive because I have been having seizures spring up like crazy! I would love to go out, but my only Oxnard friend is always 'too busy'. I tried to make friends on Craigslist, but my email got so bombarded I was trying to handle it but I was hospitalized for many days in two stretches, that all the replies got so out of hand that my severe anxiety won't let me deal with it. The father who lives here was very clear that he does not want people coming to this house or near it... so these people- I cannot have them come here, nor pick me up? If I do I risk my living situation.
He has trapped me and is angry at me that I am not going out. I can see why his daughters want to leave.
TREATMENT
Before people might bombard me with a slurry of messages about "have you tried..." a, b, and c, I can probably assure you that it is likely that I have. I was hurt back on December 18th of 2010. Yeah, long time ago. They tried epidural injections more than once. Oral steroids. Muscular injections. Physical therapy including some chiropractic practices SEVEN times! WOO! Last session stopped because I went to the hospital when my legs stopped working, and they refused to let me continue... hehe. They have also used ultrasound therapy, and electrodes, which I own my own machine. If there is anyone who is willing to help I do need new wiring for one of the sides to work right-- it does help quite a bit with the pain but the wiring is like $25 and I have NO money. Anyone willing to help hit me up and I can accept by bank or PayPal, I will post on my Facebook and Twitter wall thanks.
I already had back surgery May of 2013. Physio after of course, too. I felt wonderful after the surgery, I was about where I was now before the surgery, unable to walk at all though... Then I could! I didn't heal correctly though. I was in the hospital and some nurses had me walking without a cane or a walker and something in my back went wrong, I think it might have been when my herniated discs went from 3 to 5. They were the same nurses who overlooked my serious gallbladder infection only giving me something to try to calm my stomach. Turned out I needed surgery to get my gallbladder out ASAP. Yes, I have tried to find a lawyer, can't find one. Nurses can ruin patients lives as much as they want and it doesn't matter.
MY WEIGHT-THYROID-energy, healing, mood, skin, nails, entire living!
I have been overweight for a great deal of my life... Some doctors have even marked 'obese'. So many people who are overweight often claim to have thyroid problems, falsely. I have a history of hypothyroidism, or low thyroid, which can cause a myriad of other issues aside from weight. It affects you mood negatively, you cannot heal as well, you skin and hair is dry, you have less energy, and many other things. So when I asked a doctor at the hospital, during my last stay, if they could check my level- it'd been a while- they of course looked at me like, Ah yes a fat lazy person wants an excuse as to why they are fat.
"Why do you think that your thyroid might be low?" the doctor asked me, not masking the severe doubt that was on his face.
"I have a past history of hypothyroidism, and it has been a long time since my levels have been checked, first of all... Uh, I've been very fatigued, my skin and hair has been dry, my nails brittle, wounds don't heal well, and-" he cut me off agreeing that it seemed I was meeting enough criteria to warrant the simple blood test, and I thanked him.
When the test results came back the doctor returned looking alarmed and I asked if everything was okay.
"Why did you go off your thyroid medication?!" he barked the question. Well I assumed right then that, oh, seems my thyroid must be off again.
"Uh, well when I last took it, a fill on doctor not my PCP got lab results, saw they were normal, and didn't give me a refill, not realizing that I was on medication, meaning that the lab results indicated the dosage was at the right level," I hastily explained. He wanted to start me on it like right that day, but I had an appointment with my doctor's office two days later so he agreed that I could get the script from them, somewhat reluctantly. He made VERY sure to give me a copy, and to send them a copy and recommendation, haha.
Doctors, first they assume I am just some lazy fat liar, and then they are mad at me that other doctors mishandled my care and previous tests. I mean, I had no control over that! So it has been about three weeks and I have lost twenty pounds; just weighed myself. I was actually going through my clothing and going to get rid of all of the small clothing that I had, and donate it to Salvation Army. Now I am donating everything that is becoming way too large for me, well and I can part with. I am tailoring some things down.
I am already wearing things that I have not touched for years.
I feel more energetic. I had been randomly dozing off at all hours of the day before I was put on the thyroid supplement, and that has gone away.
On days that I feel better I have even been able to resume some physio exercises, carefully.
SEIZURES
So seeing the "life coach" was interesting. She had no idea what the **** ******** **** ** *** ***** *** *** she was doing. But she was nice. I also had a seizure during the meeting and my friend was able to record the event on his phone, and I noticed something else before it occurred. Usually my seizures have happened in places that maybe were not too well lit, or at home, for example. But she had this bag that had a pale yellow background with autumn leaves at the bottom, and suddenly it it began to glow brighter and brighter. The yellow was becoming neon, the light browns becoming oranges and reds, hurting my eyes, I covered my face as I began to feel the familiar sensation of falling backwards that I often feel before my seizures occur.
Around 4.5 minutes later I was sweaty and every muscle felt as if I had used it to the point of sheer exhaustion. When I saw the neurologist, and she asked me if after the seizures, did my muscles feel very tired as if exhausted, I yelped, "Oh my god! Yes! exactly!" surprised that I did not have to go into great depth explaining. To everyone else it is hard to explain, but apparently it is a common seizure thing, so Dr. Abbi already knew it, which delighted me so much that I didn't have to try to explain this so complicated thing to her.
So while I am waiting to go to USC to see a back specialist... Dr. Abbi upped my seizure medication and I have a follow up with her and if things do not improve enough I am going to be sent to Cedar Sinai for my seizures to be studied.
When I was in the hospital the last time I had made mention of my seizures, so they decided to do an MRI of my head. When they told me that I had cysts in my brain the doctor seemed surprised at my lack of reaction at the news, I was already aware. I had an MRI ten years ago that revealed the same thing. But, they might be causing the seizures, that was new. Dr. Abbi agreed, so that I have had a few bad seizures on the higher dose of my medication is making me nervous. If I go to Cedar Sinai, they are going to try to induce seizures, which probably means nasty ones. Because of my back the seizing of my muscles is already extremely painful... Maybe I can ask for some Dilaudid? hehehe. (It is a strong pain medication that can be 7.5X the strength of morphine sulphate--which I am allergic to morphine. I often have to have Dilaudid to ease my pain.)
When I met Chris Metzen I was very amazed because he was, well AWESOME! He is a co-creator of sorts for World of Warcraft. It was only after I met him that I found out that he voice acts! Not only that, but for Thrall, one of my favorite and dynamic characters. He also is an artist and a writer. Suddenly I felt a strong kinship. This man is successfully doing all these things that I love, acting, creating, writing, drawing.... all of it....
Maybe it isn't too late for me? When I was talking about all of this my friend asked me if he was married, lol. Aside from being a bit old, I was like yeah he is, after looking it up on wikipedia. Not that he didn't seem extremely nice in person. I had accidentally dropped art supplies on the floor and he picked them up for me, the poor girl in the wheelchair. At least now I know he probably knew what Pentel, Copic, and Sakura were.
It is like there is someone else who succeeded in a path that I really want... if only now that I can get better enough to produce my artwork... or stop procrastinating as much, heh. Zima, the life coach, said to use social media more, so I will try.
Really it was a meeting where we sat and spoke for over an hour and the lady had no real idea of what to do nor of how to really help me. She did have a couple good suggestions. Blog more. Use Facebook. Use more social media because my back is so limiting physically.
Today was one of the most enlightening and hardest days of my life. I feel conflict and strife struggle withing my heart as I sit here and write this. I plan to post this on Facebook, as many people won't know me, I may as well explain, housing for me is tenuous. Very tenuous.
Previous posts though, and the other blog does explain things.
No one though knows where I live now.
WHERE I AM LIVING:
I live in Oxnard right now.
It is L.A.ish
I thought that when I came to this home that I now stay in that I found a nice loving family that was a mother and a father with three daughters. One my age, one younger, and one just a child. I soon found out that the eldest had a different mother, the middle a different father, and the youngest was the only one who was the child of both parents. This was only well after I had moved and settled in.
By this point in time I had already decided that I wanted to stay in this place. I liked this family that had opened themselves up to me. They had gambled deciding to take me in, especially because I have a guarantor instead of myself currently covering my rent....
It was the fastest place that I could find because I was homeless at the time. It was a huge rip off being $500 for a tiny 10x10 room that didn't even have a closet.... But I am too nice and so is Gigi, and neither of us have tried to argue.
What got me was that when I came here... I was told, "welcome home," as I came in... It made me cry.
But now I am beginning to wonder if perhaps that this father cares more about the money than he does the family that I fell to care for, that I found so charmingly kind that I wanted so badly to be a part...
I am afraid that I am living with a man who is much alike my father... He is money-hungry, already over-charging me for a room, tricking me into thinking that he cares mildly about me, he has already successfully fooled me that he cared for two of his daughters... slowly I am seeing that he cares poorly about his elder daughters.
It is so chillingly like my own father that I am desperately trying to ignore that my room is tiny and overpriced, and that the family is dissolving. That I hear arguments breakout and yelling go on. I cover my ears and hear my mom and sister screaming at each other before my sister begins to throw objects down the hallway towards the living room and I snap out of it and realize that my sister not here with me in California... I am reliving bad memories... living in this place that I thought was a loving home.
"And they say I, exhale the lie, again"
from White Lies, a song I am listening to right now.... yes.... so many white lies being exposed as the cracks in the facade fall apart and break open and I get a real glimpse into what this family really is. I try to cling desperately onto the hope that maybe there is more, maybe there is a chance that they can be strong, but I can already see them falling apart.... or mostly the father is leading them to breaking them apart. I really look up to him and like him so much, so the conflicted feelings I have are difficult to deal with.
As a parent there should be some expectation that you should help your child if they need help and you can offer it. Don't have children if you can't support them, is my thinking. Well, try not to, because unfortunately shit does happen. But, the father I live with, it seems like he is suddenly asking things of his children due to his his own financial situation than any other logical changes or occurrences. He is demanding changes without any sort of compromise, and punishing without any sort of understanding... It's sort of like my father... well except for the financial part, my father is was like whim of his new wife.
I want a home so badly... I have a phobia of losing it once I have one, too. It took me months to finally refer to this tiny bedroom as home. I kept referring to it as 'the house', or 'the room', for a long time.
My mother died when I was only twelve. I remember standing there beside her hospital bed, watching her go, praying to God that her heartbeat would start picking up again- instead of slowing down ever so steadily as it was. Finally she flatlined and that was it. I could never have guessed that within 72 hours my father was going to be on his computer looking for dates with other women.
All of that began a long journey in my life that began a road of further hardships, and many insecure living situations or periods. So I have a phobia of being homeless again. Especially because as I sometimes can barely walk the five feet to go to the bathroom; the government says that I am fit to work- and I am unsure how to appeal. The only help I have been really offered is an angry woman who is extremely unreliable and vents her anger at her own unreliability out on me, and is now refusing to see or help me. I keep asking for help, and they only tell me that I have to speak to the woman who won't speak to me. Thanks clinic handling my health!
Should I move? Find a place where there is a family that is not at odds with one another and I have a room that is actually worth $500 and maybe has a closet?
Even the idea gives me guilt... but it is tempting me as the drama keeps stirring up. I was floored when I heard that he wanted to ask $600 for another room that was barely bigger than my own, simply because 'it has a closet'. I bit my tongue at explaining that most people would not even charge $500 for my room... Because I know that my rather constant presence in the house is something that is of annoyance. Should that be another reason to leave? Find a place that realized that I am waiting for help for my back...
MY BACK:
For those who know my back problems, well, they have gotten abundantly worse. For those who don't know them, I have 5 herniated discs. They pinch several nerves, there is pressure on my spinal cord and I deal with serious issues from my hips and below ranging from loss of sensation to loss of any control or feeling. Sometimes I will collapse while trying to walk from pain, sometimes my legs will give out because the muscles become too weak to use-or the signals to them are too weak, or in a rare case I might walk myself into complete non-function of my lower half. When the last option occurs there may not even be reflex in my tendons which is a very serious issue, it means that there is NO neuro-connection to them... it is like the bottom part of me is unplugged.
So most days I lay in my room. I used to be able to go out more, see friends, movies, but no any longer. I don't really know anyone in Oxnard, but shortly before moving here my back became dramatically worse... I can barely go out to see the doctor, I have to take my heaviest pain medications while I am home trying to relax, when previously I would only touch them if I had been out of the house for hours or maybe done something stupid or accidental and hurt myself. I barely function now, and the father I live with seems distraught that I don't leave the house.
With whom? Where? I can't drive because I have been having seizures spring up like crazy! I would love to go out, but my only Oxnard friend is always 'too busy'. I tried to make friends on Craigslist, but my email got so bombarded I was trying to handle it but I was hospitalized for many days in two stretches, that all the replies got so out of hand that my severe anxiety won't let me deal with it. The father who lives here was very clear that he does not want people coming to this house or near it... so these people- I cannot have them come here, nor pick me up? If I do I risk my living situation.
He has trapped me and is angry at me that I am not going out. I can see why his daughters want to leave.
TREATMENT
Before people might bombard me with a slurry of messages about "have you tried..." a, b, and c, I can probably assure you that it is likely that I have. I was hurt back on December 18th of 2010. Yeah, long time ago. They tried epidural injections more than once. Oral steroids. Muscular injections. Physical therapy including some chiropractic practices SEVEN times! WOO! Last session stopped because I went to the hospital when my legs stopped working, and they refused to let me continue... hehe. They have also used ultrasound therapy, and electrodes, which I own my own machine. If there is anyone who is willing to help I do need new wiring for one of the sides to work right-- it does help quite a bit with the pain but the wiring is like $25 and I have NO money. Anyone willing to help hit me up and I can accept by bank or PayPal, I will post on my Facebook and Twitter wall thanks.
I already had back surgery May of 2013. Physio after of course, too. I felt wonderful after the surgery, I was about where I was now before the surgery, unable to walk at all though... Then I could! I didn't heal correctly though. I was in the hospital and some nurses had me walking without a cane or a walker and something in my back went wrong, I think it might have been when my herniated discs went from 3 to 5. They were the same nurses who overlooked my serious gallbladder infection only giving me something to try to calm my stomach. Turned out I needed surgery to get my gallbladder out ASAP. Yes, I have tried to find a lawyer, can't find one. Nurses can ruin patients lives as much as they want and it doesn't matter.
MY WEIGHT-THYROID-energy, healing, mood, skin, nails, entire living!
I have been overweight for a great deal of my life... Some doctors have even marked 'obese'. So many people who are overweight often claim to have thyroid problems, falsely. I have a history of hypothyroidism, or low thyroid, which can cause a myriad of other issues aside from weight. It affects you mood negatively, you cannot heal as well, you skin and hair is dry, you have less energy, and many other things. So when I asked a doctor at the hospital, during my last stay, if they could check my level- it'd been a while- they of course looked at me like, Ah yes a fat lazy person wants an excuse as to why they are fat.
"Why do you think that your thyroid might be low?" the doctor asked me, not masking the severe doubt that was on his face.
"I have a past history of hypothyroidism, and it has been a long time since my levels have been checked, first of all... Uh, I've been very fatigued, my skin and hair has been dry, my nails brittle, wounds don't heal well, and-" he cut me off agreeing that it seemed I was meeting enough criteria to warrant the simple blood test, and I thanked him.
When the test results came back the doctor returned looking alarmed and I asked if everything was okay.
"Why did you go off your thyroid medication?!" he barked the question. Well I assumed right then that, oh, seems my thyroid must be off again.
"Uh, well when I last took it, a fill on doctor not my PCP got lab results, saw they were normal, and didn't give me a refill, not realizing that I was on medication, meaning that the lab results indicated the dosage was at the right level," I hastily explained. He wanted to start me on it like right that day, but I had an appointment with my doctor's office two days later so he agreed that I could get the script from them, somewhat reluctantly. He made VERY sure to give me a copy, and to send them a copy and recommendation, haha.
Doctors, first they assume I am just some lazy fat liar, and then they are mad at me that other doctors mishandled my care and previous tests. I mean, I had no control over that! So it has been about three weeks and I have lost twenty pounds; just weighed myself. I was actually going through my clothing and going to get rid of all of the small clothing that I had, and donate it to Salvation Army. Now I am donating everything that is becoming way too large for me, well and I can part with. I am tailoring some things down.
I am already wearing things that I have not touched for years.
I feel more energetic. I had been randomly dozing off at all hours of the day before I was put on the thyroid supplement, and that has gone away.
On days that I feel better I have even been able to resume some physio exercises, carefully.
SEIZURES
So seeing the "life coach" was interesting. She had no idea what the **** ******** **** ** *** ***** *** *** she was doing. But she was nice. I also had a seizure during the meeting and my friend was able to record the event on his phone, and I noticed something else before it occurred. Usually my seizures have happened in places that maybe were not too well lit, or at home, for example. But she had this bag that had a pale yellow background with autumn leaves at the bottom, and suddenly it it began to glow brighter and brighter. The yellow was becoming neon, the light browns becoming oranges and reds, hurting my eyes, I covered my face as I began to feel the familiar sensation of falling backwards that I often feel before my seizures occur.
Around 4.5 minutes later I was sweaty and every muscle felt as if I had used it to the point of sheer exhaustion. When I saw the neurologist, and she asked me if after the seizures, did my muscles feel very tired as if exhausted, I yelped, "Oh my god! Yes! exactly!" surprised that I did not have to go into great depth explaining. To everyone else it is hard to explain, but apparently it is a common seizure thing, so Dr. Abbi already knew it, which delighted me so much that I didn't have to try to explain this so complicated thing to her.
So while I am waiting to go to USC to see a back specialist... Dr. Abbi upped my seizure medication and I have a follow up with her and if things do not improve enough I am going to be sent to Cedar Sinai for my seizures to be studied.
When I was in the hospital the last time I had made mention of my seizures, so they decided to do an MRI of my head. When they told me that I had cysts in my brain the doctor seemed surprised at my lack of reaction at the news, I was already aware. I had an MRI ten years ago that revealed the same thing. But, they might be causing the seizures, that was new. Dr. Abbi agreed, so that I have had a few bad seizures on the higher dose of my medication is making me nervous. If I go to Cedar Sinai, they are going to try to induce seizures, which probably means nasty ones. Because of my back the seizing of my muscles is already extremely painful... Maybe I can ask for some Dilaudid? hehehe. (It is a strong pain medication that can be 7.5X the strength of morphine sulphate--which I am allergic to morphine. I often have to have Dilaudid to ease my pain.)
When I met Chris Metzen I was very amazed because he was, well AWESOME! He is a co-creator of sorts for World of Warcraft. It was only after I met him that I found out that he voice acts! Not only that, but for Thrall, one of my favorite and dynamic characters. He also is an artist and a writer. Suddenly I felt a strong kinship. This man is successfully doing all these things that I love, acting, creating, writing, drawing.... all of it....
Maybe it isn't too late for me? When I was talking about all of this my friend asked me if he was married, lol. Aside from being a bit old, I was like yeah he is, after looking it up on wikipedia. Not that he didn't seem extremely nice in person. I had accidentally dropped art supplies on the floor and he picked them up for me, the poor girl in the wheelchair. At least now I know he probably knew what Pentel, Copic, and Sakura were.
It is like there is someone else who succeeded in a path that I really want... if only now that I can get better enough to produce my artwork... or stop procrastinating as much, heh. Zima, the life coach, said to use social media more, so I will try.
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