Wednesday, July 12, 2017
Obviously you can't answer that. And honestly, I don't know if I can either.
Where do I start?
I guess with the last place I left off.
Which was with a sort of optimistic post about the new year. And then... I just sort of lost focus. It was tough, trying to get settled into the new job, the new state, being back near my family. I got more tired than I already was.
Whatever, there's no real excuse. (Although I will say that I am pretty good about posting shit to Instagram, which also shares to Tumblr and Twitter, so if you aren't following on there you're missing out.) So instead of trying to wax poetic about the why of my laziness, why not just catch you up?
I started getting infusions! The bright side of moving is that you have to get new doctors, which means you get a stronger say in what is about to happen to you. They might have the notes from the previous doctors, but they will still- for the first few visits, at least- follow your lead in what the next steps are. And I laid it out very bluntly: I was tired us using Enbrel weekly and feeling like hell for a day afterwards. I wanted infusions. And if she wasn't comfortable going in that direction I would find someone who was.
Now, this doctor is newer to the area and doesn't have a huge base of clients yet, so in that way I had another leg up. But more importantly, I explained to here that I ALREADY knew the risks of moving forward. That was off her shoulder's. I totally got it.
So then, I got what I wanted.
And I LOVE it. I still don't feel well for about a day afterwards, and I'm beyond exhausted the day I actually get the infusion. But do you know how infusions work? You sit there for THREE HOURS in a comfortable recliner chair, with free wi-fi and TVs, as many pillows and blankets as you could want, and you can bring food. It is basically a reader's PARADISE! I look forward to my infusions. The staff is so nice, and they go out of their way to remember you. They seem to actually care about how things are progressing, and I love the environment they have created. (Don't get me wrong, this isn't one of those bananna bag luxe places people like Britney Spears and Rihanna go to after a night of drinking, chic is not something they do. But CARING is. )I bring coloring books, I bring my books for my challenge (see The Belle of the Bookcase for my reviews of what I've read so far!)
But the question I'm sure you're all dying to ask is: are the infusions helping?? And the answer is YES! I'm not swallowing ibuprofen like they're single color Skittles. I've been able to go and do things (not a LOT of things, lets not get crazy, but a few things. Family things.) I've even been starting to plan out some photography stuff.
So basically what I'm saying is that, HOPEFULLY you'll be hearing from me more frequently again. Here's to keeping up promises!
Wednesday, June 28, 2017
Friday, May 12, 2017
And unfortunately it's NOT for party rocking. I went through a pretty rough emotional patch trying to straighten out life after the move, and I just needed some time folded in on myself to find my voice again. In the mean time I've been reading a lot (since down time is my strong suit), and I started a sister blog called Belle of the Bookcase where you can read my reviews or thoughts.
I am in the process of getting my groove back, so if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with a Llama who says he can help me...
Saturday, February 4, 2017
I'm hiding from y'all. I don't have e anything funny to say, I don't have e anything to upbeat to chatter on about. And honestly, I'm not in the mood to have a break through about my body or mind right now. Right now I want to wallow, and I'm sorry. So for now I'm going to stay in my Heaturrito (a burrito made of a heat blanket) and wallow with Vanilla Coke. But I love you all, I will be back.
Sunday, January 15, 2017
I don't remember if I talked about it on here, but I gave up Facebook for a while this past year. I remember it was right after the shooting of that The Voice singer immediately followed by the nightclub in Orlando ordeal. I saw the candidates for President turning it into a political talking point LITERALLY before the victims bodies were cold, before their families could be notified. Then the last straw was the little boy who was attacked by an alligator at a Disney Resort and died. The news itself was almost too much to cope with, but the absolute vile rudeness I saw when people talked about the parents. "Where were the parents??" (They were right there, horrified as one tried to protect their other child and the other hopelessly fought against a wild animal to save his son, By.The.Way.) There was too much hate. There were terror attacks in Nice, France, who was still emotionally recovering from the attacks the year before. I couldn't take the hatred coming from "sane" human beings that I had chosen to be digitally connected to, and so, I cut the connection. My account still existed, and pictures still got posted from Instagram, and tweets still got posted from Twitter. But I didn't log on. I deleted the app from my phone and my tablet. If I really needed to look at something I could get on my computer.
And that helped. I meditated a lot (Using a program I've mentioned before called Calm), I sought out news articles about the good that was happening. The programs to raise money for those affected, the people sharing pictures of that Disney beach just hours before saying "It could have been my child, it could have been anyone's child." Those warmed me, and I started to see the glimmer of humanity shining through.
BUT THAT WAS LAST YEAR!!!
This is a different year. This is a year that we can all change, we can change it ourselves by being nice to each other. By taking the half a second that it takes to think through a situation from the other person's state of mind (Maybe the parent of the eaten child needs, like, a WEEK before you start tearing into them? Just to cope a little?) We can change it ourselves by remembering that we all have a back story, but we learn about each other like an episode of Lost: you don't learn the crucial information about a person until AFTER you kinda needed it to happen.
Basically, why don't we all just chill?
You don't like the President? Fine. But do something other than flap your mouth. (And honestly, if you could learn about the political system before you do anything that would be GREAT.) You want a new group of people to be able to marry some other group of people? Super! But, again, DO something about it.
This year can be different because we can DO these things, and we can do them with the aforementioned chill.
Carrie Fisher was buried in an urn shaped like a Prozac pill because she was an incredible mouthpiece for the movement to destigmatize mental illness. So let's all take a page and be a little more chill for 2017.
Monday, January 2, 2017
I had Thanksgiving dinner with my family for the first time in like ELEVEN years. I've never been so happy for family drama. Although, apparently, it never stops happening, so it looks like I've got plenty of entertainment ahead.
It is stressful as fuck moving, I think I made that pretty clear. I doubt I even NEEDED to make it clear, because it is universally known that moving is the fucking worst.
But being new sucks too. I don't know where anything is anymore. If it weren't for Google Maps I would probably A) not have seen the Wes Craven style bumfuck areas of Pennsylvania and B) only know how to to get to the strip mall a half mile down the road because I only have to make one turn. So everything in life is balanced, I guess. Even still, I barely know how to get to the grocery store, the Wal-Mart or Target, the mall, or the fast food places. I'm lucky because in this town they're all located within 1 square mile of a main intersection. All I have to remember is what stuff is to the right and what stuff is to the left. (Read: What stuff is behind White Castle, and what stuff is behind Chic-Fil-A.)
And looking for a job. Oh. My. God. I think I'm pretty good at my job, but nothing will make you feel like an idiotic fraud faster than an interview at a new office. Every question feels like a trick, and you start to question the fact that for years doctors have been letting you interact with patients when you are so clearly a moron. Yet, then you get the job.
Then you're the new person. You have to learn new things, new people, new culture, and in my case the specific way each doctor wants you to do your job. For any given medical problem there are probably at least 3 different words to refer to it by, So,[WARNING- OPHTHALMOLOGY NERD ALERT!!!] even though I know that when Dr. A says "cellophane" it goes in the macula, then I work with Dr. B. and he says "epiretinal membrane" I end up looking at him with a blank face, and he thinks I have brain damage. One diagnosis can be called cellophane, cellophane maculopathy, epiretinal membrane, ERM, or a macular pucker. If you don't have an in depth knowledge of the layers of the eye and the way they work together, you can't necessarily just "figure out" what the doctor is referring to.
Most people probably don't have THAT problem, but I'm sure you can think of something similar to relate to. It's emotionally draining to go from being an expert to being the new kid with a notebook, who knows WHAT to do but not HOW. I am terrible at being the new person, I hate it. I don't stand still well, I have a hard time just standing by and watching something I know how to do happen. So I end up interrupting, getting in someone's way by trying to be helpful, that kind of shit. You're desperate to prove yourself, but there's also that nagging voice (in my head, anyway) that points out how embarrassing it would be if you were wrong and you don't want them to think you can be wrong.
By the time I get home, my whole body ached from working, my brain aches from learning and trying to be extra super good, and I don't even have the energy to browse Facebook. Tonight I fell asleep while looking through Instagram, I was so sleepy that before 6:00 I was straight up drool out the mouth asleep with a cat and a phone on my chest.
Honestly, if I never moved again I wouldn't be super upset about it. This apartment is nice and, frankly, I would rather set fire to my stuff than pack it again (and again, if a fire detective is reading this, that is only a joke. I am Smaug with my pile of golden sundries.) I know it has to happen, though, if I want to also have that nice life living in my own house. Because the chances of being able to build a house around this apartment are PROBABLY pretty slim. And the people upstairs may notice.