Whining Ahead

After posting 30 days straight in November, and several days in December, I’ve been on blog-vacation for the past two days.  It felt strange not to blog both of those days, because I had really become accustomed to blogging each day, but looking back my time was much needed elsewhere.  Blogging can take up a lot of time, especially when one follows many, many other blogs and feels the need to comment on each one.

Speaking of which, I have missed a few posts from some of my favorite people during the last few days, because I did the ol’ “select all, then delete” function on my email notifications.  I mean, 75 email notifications in a less than 24 hour period, just from blog stuff is ridiculous.  I don’t do the “select all, then delete” thing very often, and I feel a little guilty when I do, but sometimes you have to say enough is enough.

The past two days, I have mostly been spending QT with DSB.  Neither one of us has had much luck lately in the health department, and within the past two days, we have both been scheduled for surgeries within the next month.

My visit to the ENT (I know, finally…thank you to everyone who urged me to go in the comments section) did not go as planned.  I thought I would drop in and they would say, “oh, no biggie” and then I would be on my merry way with maybe some prescription ear drops or something.  The audiologist informed me that the hearing in my right ear was “borderline” affected and my left ear was “moderately” affected.  She thought that if the fluid was removed, I would get my hearing back.

I then saw the doctor.  He went on ahead and put tubes in both ears (extremely painful procedure).  He then did a scope through my nose to look at my eustachian tubes (where the fluid drains from your ears) and there is some sort of “tissue blockage” there.  He said it could be my adenoids or it could be something else.  He wasn’t sure but said it needed to be addressed right away.  I am going into surgery next Monday to have it removed and will know pathology results on Wednesday.  Oh yay.

DSB and I went to see a general surgeon about his kidney surgery complications on Monday.  Consensus is that DSB will need surgery to remove bad tissue and put in wound vac.  Not pleasant.

The last two days have left me wanting to do nothing more than hang out.  I barely checked my email other than to “select all, delete” a few times.  I just haven’t been up to much more.  I’m not feeling very Christmas-y, either.  My mom just called and it sounds like she is going to come over later and do decorations.

The Internet says I should be in a minimal amount of pain from having the tubes put in, but I’m feeling really lousy.  Dizzy, in pain, stuffed up.  Just blah.  I’d like to come back to the computer later and do my Reverb prompts.  We’ll see.

And Then My Head Exploded

I am going to talk today about smoking cessation for what might be the millionth, and probably not the last, time.  It is all that is in my head and it is totally and completely consuming me.  If I don’t get it out here, I can’t work through it, and if I can’t work through it, I might start smoking again.  And I don’t want to do that.  I mean I really, REALLY don’t want to do that.

The last time I tried to quit, I had the support of a “quit coach” through my employer.  It was a great resource and I completely wasted it.  You could call almost 24/7/365 and someone would be there to answer your question, make suggestions, and sometimes just talk you out of taking that first puff.  I so wish I had that now, and kick myself for not using it properly when I had the chance.  I just wasn’t at a point in my life at that time that I was ready to quit.

It isn’t that my immediate family isn’t supportive, because they mostly are, but in some ways they are really not helping me.  Because quitting smoking often takes many attempts, there are members of my family who are not actively supporting and encouraging me because they think this is just another dry run.  You know, I get that, but how many times did I get behind you when you wanted to quit or start doing something that was hard?  How many times did you get my unequivocal support?  I really feel like saying, “Fuck you,” and running off screaming into the woods.

And there are my blog friends, who are probably more supportive than anyone except maybe my mom and DSB, who stop by to wish me well and tell me their stories of loved ones who have died from smoking and how happy they are I am quitting and how hard they are rooting for me.  Why can’t I get that from the people who know me?

And, as my friend Kim asks, “Why do you care?”  I really don’t know.  I wish I could just throw caution to the wind and not care at all, but the truth is I have always cared WAY too much about what anyone else thinks of me.  I have a constant fear of criticism, of judgment.  I am always worried that what I am doing is not good enough and I am going to be exposed for the fraud that I truly am, for all the world to see.

It comes down to the fact that I am far too judgmental of myself.  I can’t see these little slips and slides in my path toward quitting smoking as normal, as ordinary, as plain-Jane as it gets.  I let it build up until I believe it is pathological and obscene and so out-of-the-ordinary that not even my own mother would claim me.  And it really does get that bad.  And, you know, if I think that about MYSELF, I shudder to think what OTHER people think of me.  I’m sure it is ten times as bad!

And when I sit down and type this all out, I can see how silly and irrational I am being, but unfortunately, I can’t sit and type 24/7.  I have to go out there and live life and do laundry and buy groceries and socialize and fill my med box.  There are a lot of things I need to get out there and do, and I really am finding it difficult to do those things without this immense fear of judgment, especially while testing out my new wings of not smoking.

And I just realized that I am fearing judgment from anyone who reads this blog, as well, because I am worried that I am talking too much about quitting smoking.  Someone please slap me now, or my head is going to explode.

Less Pressure, But Still Obsessed

Wellpers, as  you all know, NaBloPoMo is over.  When I first started, I kinda thought, after the dust had cleared, that I’d take a long blogging break.  What I didn’t realize is how ADDICTIVE writing and reading other posts and making new bloggie friends would be.  Putting my thoughts on paper every day gives me a great way to track how I’m doing and to see where I need to modify my behavior, for better or worse, to come out smellin’ like roses.

Thanksgiving week was pure hell (and it’s not over, because I don’t count Sunday as the first day of the week), and I think most of that had to do with DSB’s refusal (up to the bitter end) of Thanksgiving festivities, and the fact that I had just quit smoking.  And I have learned a lot about both of those things here within the past week.

What I have learned about DSB’s refusal of Thanksgiving is that he genuinely doesn’t like attending.  He doesn’t like all the people and he doesn’t like the family dynamic.  Even my fairly “normal” family (as in, we generally get along) bothered him, although it is altogether possible that some people were being bigger assholes than usual.  It’s the hormones, the lack of nicotine, the protectiveness…it’s all of that and it’s ugly when you throw it in the mixing bowl and stir.

I’m not sure if DSB will “do” Christmas yet or not.  I hope he does, because it means a lot to me, and selfishly so, I hope he would just sacrifice and go anyway.  Good gawd that sounds terrible, but it’s what I wish for and no one said what I wish for had to be nice.  What I truly wish is that DSB could get caught up in the beauty of the season and forget all that little petty BS.

Now let’s take the quitting smoking.  It has been rough and bumpy, but is overall going quite well.  Yes, I have slipped a few times and had a cigarette, so my quit hasn’t been perfect, but I still think that’s pretty good.  I’ve gone from smoking three packs a day down to maybe 1.25 cigarettes a day, and some days none.  I think I have to give myself props for that even though there are a lot of naysayers out there.

And to them, I really just want to say, “Eff you.”  Because seriously, you have no idea how  hard this is.  You have no idea what I am going through right now and I hope you never have to wean yourself off what is perhaps the most powerfully addictive substance on the planet.  Studies indicate nicotine is more powerful than heroin, crack, and meth.  And how many people succeed in getting off those things?  Not tons, folks.

So, what I ask of those people, is to cut me a little slack.  Be extra kind to me.  Go out of your way to avoid me if you can’t say something nice and encouraging.  Even the most well-meaning people can be complete dicks when it comes to something like this.  Don’t tell me I’m not doing this right when you can’t even manage to quit your Oreo cookie habit.  Don’t tell me I’m not doing this right when you can’t even manage to go a day without drinking.  And don’t tell me I’m not doing this right if you haven’t done it before.

Well, now that I’m all wound up, I think I’ll go throw some dishes around and hope they shatter on the floor.  Now THAT would be good stress relief (if only DSB would clean up the mess).  😀

Nicotine-Craving-Induced Blah Blah Blah — Beware

I finally convinced DSB to go to Thanksgiving today.  In direct defiance of some of the posts I have written, I flat-out begged.  It was just too important for him to be there, to me.  He went and didn’t have a bad time, but said he paid particular attention to the way my family treats each other and saw things he didn’t like.

My mom being bossed around by me and my sisters.  My mom’s advice being discounted and thrown away.  My stepdad making fun of the way Mom looked.  The lack of help in the kitchen department from my stepdad and myself.  The demand that the Big Dawg be the first to eat.

All true.  All shamefully true, and if I could have it back, I would do it differently.  My brain is operating on a funny wavelength, born out of nicotine withdrawal and the disappearance of my steady comfort and escape route, my forays out into the cold to smoke “real quick.”  I didn’t have any such breaks today, save for one, when I went and puffed on my e-cig while DSB smoked a “real” cigarette.

I didn’t have anything to hide behind and it was painful.  I wanted to do more but felt tied to my chair, sitting on my hands.  I wanted to give more, but I didn’t feel anything within me to give.  I was spent and the entire day went that way.

My sister and her husband ended up staying a good while into the evening; whereas, I hauled ass about an hour after dinner was done.  I couldn’t wait to get home and watch a  Grimm marathon and maybe eat a little pie and be in a place where I didn’t have to pretend so much.  And then DSB and I started fighting.

And we fought and we fought.  And he threatened to leave and I threatened to kick him out and it was altogether horrible.  I don’t know that we have mended that fence yet, but no one is leaving.  As of yet.  DSB has little tolerance for my nicotine-deprived moodiness and I have little tolerance for his holier than thou approach to the holidays.  It is an ugly time of year for us.

For the past few days, things have been sliding downhill with DSB.  We have argued more than we have said kind things, and it is wearing on me.  I know it is wearing on him, too.  I know it is the quitting smoking, and even how that has affected him.  I asked him to smoke outside and it is quite cold out.  He doesn’t feel he should have to do that and, really, I feel bad asking him to.

We made an arrangement today that the only place in the house where people can smoke is the dining room, where there are many windows that can be opened, a ceiling fan, and a lot of space.  I think this will work out well, too, for when QoB comes over because this is generally where we will hang out and then I won’t have to ask her to smoke outside, too.

I didn’t think this was going to be that complicated.  I was just going to quit and that was going to be that.  This hasn’t been just that and I am constantly revamping how I am doing things, hopefully for the better.  I am just ready to be rid of cigarettes for good and I can’t stand smoking one anymore.  I know this because I tried.  And no, I’m not resetting my quit counter for a couple puffs of a cigarette, although the Cig Nazis in my support forum would say I should.  I’m just not, and that’s that.

I know all of these posts lately have been about cigarettes and I do hope I’m not boring my three readers to death with all of this, but it is important to me and this blog is, like I’ve said a million times, for my benefit.  If I wanted to blog about the migration pattern of flamingos (which is actually quite interesting) for the next decade, then I will.

I hope DSB and I can come through this and be okay.  I hope I haven’t offended my mom too much with being the apparent brat that I was today, and I do hope I’ll get to see my sister again before she pops out that baby.  I love her to death, but am always just so uncomfortable around her, to the point that it is painful.  And now she is doing something I can’t do, having a baby, and it almost kills me inside to see her round happy belly.

Don’t get me wrong, because I am  happy for my sister and her husband and my soon-to-be nephew, but I can’t say it doesn’t hurt that this will never happen to me.  And I’ve accepted that as a part of my life.  I had to or it would have killed me.  Literally.

Oh the tremendous emotions I am rolling on today.  I have been up since 4:00 a.m., hoping to end the fight that got started last night with DSB, and have been up and alert ever since, just hoping for some peace.  He went to bed really early and I’m left to wander around and to my own devices.  I have ordered two books from the library, so maybe it’s time to just go snuggle in bed and read a good book.

Three days, 10 hours, 24 minutes and 5 seconds. 206 cigarettes not smoked, saving $26.16. Life saved: 17 hours, 10 minutes.

More Blathering About Quitting Smoking

My pregnant little sister is in town, along with her husband.  I am excited to see them, but wary of the reaction I will get if I tell them I quit smoking.  They are both vehemently opposed to smoking, so I am sure they would be happy for me, but they would also be skeptical and I really don’t  need to hear that shit right now.  Add to that the fact that my mom still smokes, I don’t want any negative attention brought down on here.  So I came here to celebrate.

I have not smoked for: Two days, 22 hours, 47 minutes and 52 seconds. 176 cigarettes not smoked, saving $22.47. Life saved: 14 hours, 40 minutes.

176 cigarettes…really now?  That seems like an insane number after being just shy of three days.  I am using the patch, the very occasional nicotine lozenge, and a few puffs on an e-cig first thing in the morning and right after dinner.  That’s probably not recommended, but that’s what I’m doing and it is working for me, thus far.  There are so many opinionated assholes in the “quit smoking” forums, and everyone is an “expert,” and the whole thing resembles the bad parts of Alcoholic Anonymous.

I’m not saying that AA doesn’t help some people quit drinking, but not everyone responds to that sort of thing.  What I DO respond to is feeling already like my lungs are healthier, that I don’t smell like smoke (other than the stale-ishness still in my clothes and car and coat), and the satisfaction of knowing that I am accomplishing something important.

Even though my mom smokes, I receive probably the most support from her.  She is really proud of me, and that means a lot.  She pointed out that I have given up some difficult things for no reason other than my health.  I gave up drinking in April of 2012, not because I had a problem or needed to or my doctor recommended it, but because I knew it interfered with my meds.  I haven’t had a drop since, and it really hasn’t been all that hard.  I don’t think it hurts that I do occasionally enjoy a virgin margarita or virgin Bloody Mary mix on ice.  😀

I am giving up smoking mainly because I am tired of how my lungs feel and how limited I am as far as physical activity.  I really want to lose some weight, and while I know that most people who quit smoking gain weight initially, I am fully confident that I won’t because I will be more active.  And even if I do, an extra 15 or 20 pounds can be easily lost with some exercise and moderate diet.

I’m just saying, gaining a little weight is the least of my concerns.  I have actually dropped almost 10 pounds in the last two weeks, without trying too hard.  I just have been leaving something on my plate and eating only until I am full.  So, progress made on both fronts.

So there’s some more quitting smoking blah-blah-blah for now, and maybe after Thanksgiving today I’ll feel more motivated in posting about it.  For now, this will have to do!

 

Choosing Your Battles

Today has been slightly above average, but I have been somewhat plagued by troubling thoughts, mostly inserted by my therapist, by my Dad, by some other people.

I wrote a post about the division of labor in my relationship, called
“I Cooked.  You Clean.”  I’m just warning because this post might not make a lot of sense without reading the other before.  The bottom line in that post was that, for years I expected there to be a division of labor in which I was helped out with household chores, and with DSB, I’ve come to accept that it won’t happen.

But my therapist always brings it up.  My dad brings it up.  They both bring up DSB not contributing his fair share monetarily, as well.  I think my mom would bring it up if she thought it would get her anywhere.  There are times I get frustrated and I bring all of it up to him — the money, the lack of support in doing housework, and each time I get defensiveness from him and really, I get nowhere.

That happened today.  I saw my therapist this morning and she got me primed for it, and then I saw my dad  yesterday and today, and that primed me even more.  By the time I got home at 4:00 p.m. today, from a full day of running errands and having appointments, I was hopping mad and determined to do something about it.  And there we went again, round and round, with nothing being solved and feelings getting hurt.

I’m left to wonder, if completely left to my own devices, would I ever bring it up?  I’m not sure I would, unless there was just really intense frustration.  For the most part, I look at it and pass it over, deeming it as something not worth fighting about.  Choose your battles, right?  This just isn’t a battle I think I can ever win, and one that is so sensitive, that I’d rather not get into it with him.

Is it wrong that I’d rather put love, and I mean real and true love, ahead of petty bullshit like who does the dishes or who mows the lawn or who takes the trash to the road?  I don’t think it is.  I can see where there is a concern about money from my parents’ standpoint, but $700 only stretches so far and there are bills he has to pay, too.  Do I budget my money better, with the weekly allowances I am given?  Well, of course I do.  Have I spent countless years trying to get that right?  Absolutely.

I feel in some ways, like I am coming along as a person…in my happiness level, in wanting to do and try new things, in wanting to better myself, and I am leaving DSB in the dust.  I don’t like that, but I know you can’t change someone who doesn’t want to change, and he most definitely does not want to change.  He acknowledges being miserable, but he doesn’t want to do anything about it, and if anyone other than myself were to ask him, he’s doing great.  It’s quite frustrating.

The quitting smoking thing is just a prime example.  I listed all the reasons yesterday why I want to quit, and the real primary one is my health, and it helping me to lose weight and be healthier in the long run.  I want to be around for a long time, to see my nephew grow up and get married and have kids of his own.  I don’t want my mother to outlive me and have to bury her child.  I don’t want that kind of heartache in my family when it is so completely preventable.

DSB doesn’t want to quit smoking because he thinks it will make him gain weight.  I don’t get that.  I am very heavy at this time, and I don’t care if I gain another 15 pounds while quitting, even though I don’t think I will.  The point is to quit and then focus yourself on getting healthy in other ways.  I think he just doesn’t want to put up the work.

I suspect he was smoking inside the house today while I was gone, but maybe not.  I know since I have been home at 4:00pm, that he has only gone outside once and it is not a quarter after 9:00pm.  And he is in bed, and I’m doubting anything will rouse him from there except maybe an urgent need to pee.

He has been using the “e-cigarette” that my mom got for him last time he was in the hospital.  My bloggie friend, Kim, is doing what is called “vaping” and she has already cut her regular cigarette consumption in half.  Maybe DSB will unintentionally quit the real cigs this way, I don’t know.  I know that while it is cold, it is  unlikely he will go outside for much of anything, including any working that he might need to be doing.

Now I’m just blabbing.  No matter your religion, lack of religion, or somewhere in between, please do what you do and send a little kindness and understanding my way, that I can use to deal with DSB while I am on these initial days of my quitting smoking.  I think there is a possibility I am blowing things out of proportion and they might not be that bad.

My stats so far are a bit pathetic, but I woke up and smoked this morning, pushing back my quit date until today.  Here’s a little something, though:

12 hours, 28 minutes and 13 seconds. 31 cigarettes not smoked, saving $3.96. Life saved: 2 hours, 35 minutes.

I’ll take every little bit I can get.  Thanks, as always, for reading/listening.

Stopping Smoking Now Greatly Reduces Risks To Your Health

Take it from the Surgeon General, from a friend, a family member, your doctor…smoking cigarettes is not a good thing.  I have been a smoker since I was 18, other than an 18 month period were I was able to quit in my mid-20’s.

DSB smokes, and so does QoB.  Everyone else I know does not, and some of those do-not’s are vehemently opposed.  I personally smoke like a chimney.  And cough like a car that just won’t start.  I’m easily winded, and have a hard time completing daily tasks, because of being just that winded.

I am ready to break free from all of this.  I have been thinking about it for a very long time, and have tried to become more mindful of all of the negative things about cigarette smoking here as of late.  Something a blog friend said on a comment really struck me.

Marilyn wrote in comment to this post: “I’m still stuck on the idea of a cigarette AND a CPAP machine. It’s causing psychic dissonance. I used to smoke. Cancer cured me — of smoking. I still miss that cigarette in the morning, but I don’t miss the chemo. Just a thought. ”

It is just a thought, but it’s one I took under advisement.  There is much dissonance to my smoking.  First of all, I have asthma and use an inhaler.  And, as Marilyn pointed out, I have to use a CPAP machine to sleep at night.  Add those two things together, along with the fact that cancer runs heavily in my dad’s side of the family, and it is I wonder I ever smoked to begin with.

Of course, I get bronchitis every year, that won’t go away.  Have for the past three years anyway.  I get more than my usual share of colds and stuffy nose.  I have to go outside in freezing wind and rain or outside in 100+ degree weather to smoke, unless I’m at home or in my car.  My activities are extremely limited due to being short of breath.  I have a strong desire to get close to a healthy body weight, and I can’t do much exercising because of the difficulty breathing.

There is just so much more I want out of life.  I don’t want to be chained to always having to have a cigarette.  Not only are they nasty and cancer-provoking and socially unadvised, they cost a lot of money.  I figured out, if I quit smoking, I will have an extra $400 – $500 a month, and I can really use that money.  Case in point, I had to have my cigarettes this week so I barely bought any groceries, and now my dad is picking me up enough from the grocery store until I get my weekly check.  Terribly humiliating, and I never ever want to ask for money.  Mom had to give me extra gas money, too.  I financially can’t afford to smoke, haven’t been able to for a long time now, and it’s just now sinking in.

My dad went out and bought NRT aids (Nicotine Replacement Therapy) for me this evening.  Just because he wants to help and he knows it will help me quit.  Some people say to just do it cold-turkey, but I can’t handle that, and yes, I have tried.  The last time I successfully quit smoking (for 18 months), I used the patch and it really didn’t seem that hard.

I’m pretty sure it will be hard this time, seeing as DSB is a smoker and we live together, and also because I’m a much more stressed-out individual then I was when I last quit.  I’m ready for the challenge, though.  I just can’t keep doing this (smoking) and killing myself off slowly.  I want to be free to exercise and do things I need to do and get healthier.  I don’t want to become a cancer or heart disease statistic because of something I CHOSE to do to myself.

So tonight right before bed will be my last cigarette, and when I wake I’ll slap on a patch and put a lozenge in my mouth (because I was so advised by my doctor), and I’m hoping that this is a battle I will win.  Any support or kind words are appreciated.  😀

Go Home

Sometimes, when I’m out and about, I get this feeling that I just don’t want to go home yet.  It’s almost a sense that there is something bad waiting for me there.  Don’t get me wrong, there really isn’t.  DSB is kind and sweet and the pups are the best.  But still, sometimes, I don’t want to go home.

On occasion, I don’t want to go home because I don’t want to interact.  I would rather think and be still and not have to utter a word, even if it was only one word. There are times that I don’t want to go home because I don’t want to face my poor housekeeping.  Other times, I just don’t wanna.

Today in particular, I didn’t want to go home.  I wanted to go see my mom and talk to her.  DSB and I had stopped by my godparents’ home, now vacant, with the Bird Lady dead and my godfather in a nursing home.  I have some happy memories of that place, and it reminded me and I remembered and now I feel sad.

I also was reminded of the year I spent there with Dr. Love, a year of near-constant bickering and arguing and passive-agressiveness and almost no love.  I feel sick when I think about that relationship.  It should have never happened.  But, it did.  I have to deal with that and those memories, and that made me sad and anxious and mad.

So, we did end up coming almost directly home from there.  I feel almost sick over today, when there is so much to be grateful for, which makes me feel even the more sick that I feel this way.

DSB saw his doctor and the cancer has not spread.  They are going to remove his left kidney, but he’ll be fine.  No chemo, no radiation, just a short hospital visit and about a month’s recovery time.

I saw my orthopedic specialist who informed me that my foot has healed completely and perfectly, and that I am in pain because I need to wean myself off the boot instead of trying to do everything all at once without it.

So, two happy, good, awesome things happened today.  I am not appreciating it and I hate that.

I feel as if I may cry, I feel as if I may throw a chair out the window.  I also feel as if I may just get naked and go huddle into the fetal position in bed and not come out until today has passed.

This isn’t fair.  I can’t let my emotions get hijacked like that.  I should have been on higher alert, or something.  I should feel positive and happy and relieved.  Instead, I feel anxious, sad, and angry.  I can’t see the good for the bad and that just isn’t fair to DSB.  I need to snap the fuck out of this ASAP before something truly dire does happen, like breaking all the glass windows out in my sunroom.  Because that sounds pretty good about now.

This and That

I stayed home from work today, because I couldn’t breathe and was very dizzy.  QoB took me to the doctor and they gave me more steroids.  Yay.

On another note, I don’t think it is depression that is doing me in, I think it is the last six weeks that I have been sick and been unable partake in my normal routine and busyness on the weekends that has me down.  Who wouldn’t be a little depressed after six weeks of working sometimes, not other times, and laying around most days?

I went back over to QoB’s yesterday night after I blogged.  A couple of my parents’ friends stopped by that we hadn’t seen in awhile and it was nice to chat.  I felt almost normal.  I realized that what I am lacking here is normal human interaction.  Not talking to mentally ill inmates, not talking to my even crazier co-workers…normal human interaction.  I am starved for it.

Something I also realized is that I am a bit lonely for a male companion.  Not lonely enough that I am going to do something about it, just noticing that it would be nice to have someone.  I am not getting ready to jump in a relationship, but the thought of one does not repulse me at this moment.

Not having much energy at the moment, so I’ll have to keep this short.  Bottom line is that I still feel like hell physically but have found that I don’t have to stay that way.  I just need to get well!

Mouthwash, Kate Nash

Sun in My Eyes

Things are looking up from yesterday.  Yesterday was not pretty.  It was filled with frustration and anxiety and irritability.  I would have blogged about it, but I was in too much pain to sit.  That, and I was whiny.  No one likes a whiner.

Long story short, yes, I do have staph.  No, it is not MRSA.  Wound remains about 3/4″ deep.  Abcessed area is 2″x2″, down from 4″x3″.  I am healing, but too fast.  Yesterday, my ARNP cut me back open and messed around in the wound.  She then told me that the dressing that keeps getting applied isn’t going to work, because there is too much drainage.  Obviously…I had to go back twice yesterday and every day this week.

I am really liking the ARNP that I have seen a couple of times for my cyst wound and I have an appointment scheduled with her to become my new primary care doctor.  She is even going to do my psych meds, which would be fabulous, because going to the community mental health center is hell.  Especially now that my ARNP at the CMHC thinks that I am a drug addict.

Having an Rx for Clonopin does not make me a drug addict, especially when I barely ever use it for PRN.  Anyone that knows my Clonopin-taking habits knows that I rarely use it, even when I need it.  Because I do not want to be a DRUG ADDICT.  Ok, still a little peeved at that lady, but I’ll get over it.  As long as I don’t have to see her again.

Back to my new ARNP, who I shall name Giggles.  She really seems to know her stuff, she is friendly, supportive, and always listens.  She makes time to see me and talk to me about my concerns and makes me feel better by really explaining things to me.  That is hard to find sometimes, when you have Medicaid for secondary insurance.

I worked my four hours today and am not going to do anymore.  I worked for two hours, took a 30 minute rest on the couch, and then worked another two.  I was busy during that time, but it was super-painful to sit that long.  I may or may not have tried to do a few things at QoB’s house, just to take a little stress off of her.  The rest of the day calls for the couch, and then back to the clinic this evening to have my wound repacked and redressed.  I did start a load of laundry, but we’ll see how far I get with that.  Baby steps, baby steps.

It is funny how physical pain can make you feel mentally unstable.  I have to keep reminding myself that I am not getting depressed.  I am laying on the couch and taking naps because my physical well-being REQUIRES it.  I am only working half-days at work because my doctor REQUIRES it.  Sometimes I just need to give myself a break.

I have been at odds with my stepsister for the last month or two.  My dad told me a few choice things that she said, and I was already fed up with her behavior before that.  She is mean to her kids, verbally abusive, really.  That bothers me.  The youngest just turned one year old and the older is 11.  Also, when I go over to her house for dinner, I bring everything to make dinner with me and she doesn’t contribute at all.  And then she gets upset if I take home extras with me.  Things that make ya go, “hmmmm.”

She called yesterday to invite me to my niece’s first birthday party slash new housewarming party.  I was relieved to tell her that I had a staph infection and could barely sit, therefore I could not make it.  I am not mad or upset, I just don’t want to be around her.  I don’t find that I get anything positive from it and it is often upsetting.  That is part of my life now — choosing what I will and won’t tolerate and sticking to it.

Kizz and Birdie have been driving me a bit crazy lately.  Birdie is still not house-trained and my beautiful hardwoods are getting ruined.  I really think that they will clean up with some Bona treatment, but it is hard getting around to that when I am all gimped out.  I am looking forward to feeling better so I can catch up on that.

The dogs also really have separation anxiety, and that can be stressful.  They chew up things, they act crazy when I leave and when I get home, and they rebel when I leave them alone for longer than a work-day.  It has been good for them for me to be around more, and I think that now that summer is over, I will be home more often in the evenings.

Now that I live closer to my parents, I am doing a lot more of going over for a few hours and then coming home around 7:00 or 8:00.  That seems to work better than when I was at the old house, not being able to stand hanging out there, and being gone from 7:00am to 9:00pm, and then going straight to bed.  They hated that, and so did I.

I am really enjoying being back to blogging and am trying to find a few more blogs to follow.  I enjoy reading about other people’s lives, their struggles, their dreams.  Reading another person’s words can be so inspiring and uplifting, and can also remind you of where you came from and why you aren’t going back.  I hope my blog does that for a few people, and even if not, I enjoy doing it just for myself.

Cheers to Thursday…it’s almost the weekend!

Sheryl Crow, Soak up the Sun