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[Jan. 1st, 2006|07:30 am] |
It's been a while since I've updated this. I've just been...drained. I've probably opened up this program a hundred times, started typing, and then just closed it without posting. I haven't replied to emails, or answered my phone, or chatted with people who IMed me. It's nothing personal against anyone, I've just been trapped inside my own head for a while. I'm trying to find my way back out, but its hard.
Looks like I stopped posting in September, so I'll start there.
In October we got both broadband and a kitten. Broadband has been a wonderful thing, though I am now in danger of filling up my 100GB harddrive. The kitten is named Yuki; she's a black oriental and around six months old. She's a real trip, all the personality of a siamese cat, plus all the personality of a black cat, with all the attitude of a half grown cat. She alternates between excessive snuggling and "pinball mode." The house being the pinball machine and she the ball. She made a great halloween decoration and *still* goes into halloween cat mode every time she sees the dog. Kinda cute, really.
About halfway through October, Grandfather got sick. He was in the hospital for a couple weeks, getting worse every day, and we knew that he was going to die soon. I refused to go see him. I still don't know if that makes me a horrible person or not. I stood at the foot of Dad's bed and watched him die, when I was barely old enough to understand what it meant to die. I sat in the waiting room, waiting for death, when both of my grandmothers and my step-grandmother died. I couldn't do it again. Just sit around waiting for another line to go flat.
So I stayed home, and smoked pot, and watched movies, and when Mom, or Ian, or Auntie Colleen would come home I tried not to listen as they described in excruciating detail how he didn't recognize them, how he was in pain, how he was getting weaker every day. How he was going to die, and soon. I watched as they tried not to cry, and I couldn't cry. I just wanted them to shut up, was screaming it mentally. Just shut up, please, shut up.
He died on November third. The funeral wasn't long afterwards, maybe the next day, it's all a blur. At the funeral I was the only person who couldn't stop crying, and I hated them for it. How could they smile, and laugh, and be so fucking happy to have the whole family together again when he was dead? Part of me still hates them for it.
Not long after grandfather died, I got sick. Maybe it was just stress, but it seems like I've been living at the doctor's office since then. The night before grandfather's funeral my hand swelled up, like hives except in the joints. I get hives sometimes, usually just ignore them and they go away but it hurt and I couldn't deal with it just then so I went to the ER, got a shot of epi and a shot of steroids and it was gone in a couple hours. Was back at the ER twice over the next week, as the hives kept coming back, worse and worse. The third time was probably the worst I've ever felt in my life. Every inch of my body was swollen, even my ears and toes, and I was having trouble breathing.
Predictably, the hives were almost gone by the time I got in to see the allergist two weeks later and went away completely before I even had a chance to implement his suggestions. He said that the hives were a reaction to carbs that my body couldn't properly digest due to my PCOS, and gave me a very restrictive diet to follow, but I still think that he's a crackhead. Sure, I feel way healthier living off nuts and berries, but no diet is truly balanced without your daily recommended dose of Burger King. I was half hoping that I would get another bad case of hives before my follow up appointment on Monday, just so that I could tell him what a crackhead he truly is, but alas, no hives.
Then I had to jump through some hoops with Medicaid. I'd never actually been to my family doctor, and the referral from the ER doc wasn't enough, so I had to go to my family doctor (Who I'd never met.) and get him to refer me to the allergist in a backdated sort of way. Blood tests, an ultrasound, and six office visits later I find out I have gallstones. Lovely. That knocked about half the foods off of my "allowed" list. I'm pretty much living on trail mix right now, except on Tuesdays when I say screw you to the doctors and make Wayne take me out for fast food. It keeps me sane.
On the upside, I do have wonderful blood pressure, right at 100/70 every time.
New Year's is supposed to be the time to start changing things, but in the past couple months it feels like I've already changed everything. My six Red Bull a day habit is a thing of the past. Quit smoking pot a few days ago, not going to say its for good, but at least six weeks, to get my brain working again. Gave up all the foods that bring any satisfaction to eating. Quit drinking, since the results of my liver tests were rather disturbing. ... Makes life a little boring, really.
So what am I going to do for New Years? By this time next year, I want to be in good enough shape to hike the Appalachian Trail. Yes, the whole thing, all 2k+ miles of it. If I'm going to be so disgustingly healthy, there might as well be a purpose to it. That will give me about fifteen months to plan, get in shape and save up enough cash. Luckily I live in the mountains, so it will be easy to do a lot of training hikes. ... And hey, at least I'll already be used to living off trail mix. I just need to DO something, and hiking the AT? That would be a big something.
Anyway, I'm actually getting the urge to clean, so I think I'll go do that before my laziness reasserts itself. |
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