2020/02/03

Still…Alive…Mostly

Da Goddess @ 23:31

I’m still alive, but it feels like an uphill battle to remain so for the past week.

Last Tuesday, Mojo was in town and we had a date to go shopping. I had to delay our start a bit when I was informed that my new medication was being delivered. So, I waited, got my new med, took my first dose, and off we went. As far as shopping went, it was a mild affair (I got a food storage container, a phone charger cord, soup mix, & hair color).

Then we decided it was time to eat. I hadn’t eaten at all and Mo had eaten very little. To the Garden of Olives we went. Salad, a couple bread sticks, a little pasta, and dessert. We both felt better.

After arriving back at my place, she noticed my bookcase still in its box, unassembled, and next thing you know, my bookcase was built and awaiting books. Boy, do I have books! (Fletch had fun with it while his big sis built it and again after it was built. I’ve left one shelf mostly bare just for him.)

Sadly, that’s all the time I got with my girl while she was in town. It was also the last day I felt okay.

Since then, I’ve been swelling up and hurting like a son-of-a-bitch. By Friday, I couldn’t bend my knees because of the edema. By Saturday, my hands were starting to swell, one eye was blurring, and my chest hurt. Having been down this road before, I stopped my new med. I called the doctor’s office to see if they wanted me to go to the hospital or if I should just ride it out at home (my call wasn’t an emergency, but the was an urgency to it). It’s now almost the end of Monday and I still haven’t heard from anyone at the office. As much as I actually like the doc himself, I don’t care for his nurse practitioner (10 days ago, she had me sitting in her office crying because she was making me feel like I was in the wrong for not having a copy of my MRI report [their printer/burner was down] and for not knowing what I wanted her to do for me in the meantime. I told her she was the healthcare provider and I was coming to her for answers. Ugh.)

Since I stopped my med on Saturday, I’ve gotten rid of the chest pain, eye issue, upper extremity swelling, and the last of the swelling is confined to my lower legs and feet. My big, comfy, loose shoes are still too tight, but I can walk a bit and I can bend my knees again. This part always takes the longest to resolve. The other lasting side effect is the fatigue. I slept in. I did very little all day. And I found myself in bed at 22:30 tonight, typing away at this sob story of mine. I’m wiped out. I really don’t like this.

Needless to say — but I’m saying it anyway — I’m downright pissed at the doc’s office for not returning my call. I’m pissed with the way I was treated at my last appointment. And I think it’s time to find another doctor. (There are other issues with the NP, but I’ll spare you the details.)

My adjuster found another clinic that takes cases like mine and I’ve asked her to get me in to see someone there. Fingers crossed this works because I’m pretty much at the end of my emotional rope.

I really miss my former doctors from up north. They were always on my side, always fighting for me, always attuned to what I needed. I knew getting in with good docs down here would take time and patience, but I didn’t think the first go round would be as bad as this one is turning out to be.

I don’t ask for much. I really don’t. I just ask to be treated with respect, compassion, and not be left feeling alone and neglected.

Anyway, I’m still alive. I’m still fighting. I’m just a bit quieter than usual.

Hey, how about that game? (I didn’t watch. It was either that or the weather.)

2020/01/27

Mad for Plaid

Da Goddess @ 23:27

I have never seen a plant that looked like it was swathed in plaid before. But now, I can’t think of anything else.

Meet Euphorbia obesa.

Euphorbia obesa

Doesn’t it look like something created from tartan and pure imagination? I feel like this is the most Celtic plant in the world, except it’s from nowhere even close to Ireland or Scotland. Maybe it just wants to be. Perhaps its DNA test proved there was no way it could be from either country, but in a fit of pique it wrapped itself in plaid, declared itself a Celt, and has decided it will die upon this hill, no matter how many tests say it’s wrong.

I totally get this plant. I have one DNA test that says I’m 0% English, Irish, or Scottish. I have another that says 2.5%. While I’m not sure I agree with the data from the 2nd 2.5% test, I’m hoping it’s true. My little sister took a 3rd test (as in a third company different from the two I dealt with) and got a smidge of British Isles. Maybe these two separate companies are more accurate? I dunno. But I understand that plant. I understand wanting to be a part of a culture…I’m a bit mad for plaid myself.

2020/01/07

89

Da Goddess @ 05:30

Dad would have been 89 today.

I miss him so very much. Every single day.

I’m so grateful I had a father who was so memorable and missable.

2020/01/01

Happy New Year! 2020 is Here

Da Goddess @ 00:01

Happy Mew Year!

Wishing you a very happy New Year!

May 2020 be the year we all have good health, loving relationships with family and friends, personal growth, and the kind of prosperity that ensures your comfort, contentment, and sense of security. For the creative amongst us, may you find the well of inspiration deep and full.

Woo hoo! 2020, let’s do this!

2019/12/25

Merry Christmas

Da Goddess @ 00:02

May you all have a day full of love, laughter, joy, and a feeling of belonging.

If you’re feeling alone and blue, please know there are many who also feel this way. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, please reach out for help. 1-800-273-8255

2019/12/20

Thy Shall Not Covet, Thy Shall Not Covet, Thy Shall Covet

Da Goddess @ 15:38

Oops! I may have accidentally coveted.

Never have I wanted something so unnecessary in all my life. (Kinda like a sewing machine I’ll use once every decade or so, but am convinced I’ll use more often if only I had one.)

2019/12/12

Summer Breeze…Makes Me Feel Fine

Da Goddess @ 20:55

“…blowing through the jasmine in my mind…”

Wait. I think it’s winter. Let me che…yep. Winter. But I’m still loving the jasmine in my mind. And in my mouth.

My mom made me some jasmine pearl tea on Thanksgiving and now I’ve had to break out my super secret precious cache of jasmine tea just to feel like a real person again. Since my jasmine tea* isn’t available any longer, I’m rationing it. Unless I get some of the pearls.

I can see this is turning into a problem.

It might be a problem.

This looks like a problem.

It’s definitely a problem.

* my jasmine tea was from the now defunct Fresh & Easy. It was one of the few jasmine teas with a fresh, true, gentle flavor as opposed to the kind of tea drenched in perfumey oil that ruins the taste and feel — yes, FEEL — of the tea.

2019/11/28

Happy Thanksgiving

Da Goddess @ 00:05

Wishing everyone a very happy Thanksgiving!

I have much to be grateful for and I find myself adding to the list every few minutes. Just as I think I’ve reached the end, another thing pops into mind. I’m almost embarrassed by how many reasons I have to be thankful. But this is one of those times when you thank God for every single item on the list and hope you’re doing justice to the gifts you’ve been given.

Funny how gratitude can change your attitude.

I hope you all have a beautiful day.

2019/11/27

A New Friend

Da Goddess @ 22:45

We have ourselves a new friend here in the neighborhood. While the Three Amigos (sadly) seem to be MIA of late, Dr Ginger Longhair has taken the opportunity to make his presence known.

He showed up at the top of the stairs yesterday to have a bath and say hello. Fletch let me know he was there. And for this being a strange cat, Fletch wasn’t at all upset. I think he just wanted to hang out and have cat talk with a friend.

Dr Ginger Longhair was fine until I opened the door and offered him some cat food. At that point, he decided I had gotten close enough and headed down the stairs.

Friends, he was stunning! I find myself longing to see him again. Every time I look out the window and don’t see him, a little piece of me dies. To his credit, Fletch hasn’t made a big deal of it. I think he’s hoping this gets him a playmate.

Cats.

2019/11/22

Confession #637242

Da Goddess @ 01:20

I really didn’t like “Frozen” and I REALLY didn’t like the soundtrack.

I do, however, enjoy Kristen Bell and I’m sad “The Good Place” is ending after this season. I love everything about the show. All of it.

But, back to “Frozen”. It’s just another rehash of the Snow Queen and I don’t think there was anything new or exciting about that particular version. And now we have a sequel. Oy. Vey. I just hope the songs in the new movie aren’t embedded into every single fucking part of our lives.

So, you’ll not find me queued up to see the sequel to a movie I didn’t like.

I would very much like to see “Knives Out”, though. If you want to go with me, let me know.

2019/11/02

Happy Birthday, Mojo!

Da Goddess @ 00:27

The birthday girl as she was so long ago…

Happy 27th, my sweet one!

2019/11/01

Oh Lawdy!

Da Goddess @ 12:57

I just woke up from a crazy ass dream. I was pregnant at 53 with no oven in which my bun could bake. The father was a now-deceased man who was remarkably still alive, but having his genitals burned off (not because of the baby, but because he felt he could do more “Good Works” without them). My best friend and also geriatric preggo was confined to bed with me in the desert, stuck between two worlds…like more desert or non-desert-but-still-desert-like. Bunches of other things are happening, some of which are in a restaurant. We’re being filmed for a TV show. I don’t even understand the insanity around me. Suddenly, I’m holding my baby, a baby who can’t really hear, while narrating my work in the hospital as a nurse who functions more like a waitress or a waitress who functions as a nurse. I really can’t tell. But I know I’m here only because this is where geriatric preggos go to get the best care.

After I awaken from this madness, I go to the bathroom — because needs must, natch — and sit down on a damp toilet seat. The seat is damp because WHY THE FUCK NOT?! This actually happens a few times a week (sometimes a few times a day) when weather conditions are perfect for these sort of (I’m guessing) ghostly hijinks. The inside of the lid is also full of condensation and I’m eternally grateful I’ve had no need to lean back against it because it would be COLD and I don’t need cold and damp against my skin. Especially not cold and damp against my skin from a toilet.

I’ve never had this happen with a toilet before. I’m beginning to give serious weight to the ghost argument at this point. I think it’s the same ghost pretending to be the creaky moany-groany weathervane on the roof above. The same ghost who doesn’t allow me to finish the house in any way, shape, or form.

What do you think I should offer this magnificent but mischievous spectral doer of shenanigans?

2019/10/31

Boo!

Da Goddess @ 02:34

Are you ready for Halloween? I am. And I don’t think Halloween can serve up anything worse than what I’ve been through this week. Yes, I’ve already had my scares. And, yes, I said scares. As in multiple scares.

Let’s start with the winds. And the fires. They’re here. All we can do is be prepared for evacuation at this point. I am totally prepared. Thankfully, after one particularly tense afternoon, I realized we were going to be okay. Others aren’t so lucky and my heart goes out to them.

Today’s humidity stands at 4%. FOUR PERCENT. That’s very, VERY dry. And the winds are alternating between calm and the Wicked Witch is coming for you and your little dog, too.

The winds cause the weathervane on my roof to turn. Unfortunately, when it does turn, it sounds like a ghost crying about how heavy its chains are.

Also, being that my home is about 90 years old, windows sometimes open randomly. Not so much a problem for the windows with screens, but the ones without are usually the ones that pop open. And they usually have the most giant spiders and giant spiderwebs. No bueno. I have enough spiders, thank you very much. I’ve learned to jam paper, cardboard, old gift cards, and everything else I can into the gaps in an attempt to keep them closed. Most stay shut. However, one, in particular, proves difficult. The one with the most giant spider and web. Needless to say, I have been known to wake suddenly and sit bolt upright when I have even the slightest suspicion it’s opened up again. I’m not sleeping well, obviously.

Despite all that, I’m better off than those who are in a fire’s path. I keep praying for firefighters to gain the upper hand on all the fires and let people return home…provided they still have one. Please say a prayer for them.

On to other things.

Then there was the other evening when I returned home after having dinner with my sisters and our mom. Normally, Fletch is waiting at the door. No Fletch. I called for him. Nothing. Panic set in. If he somehow got out, he wouldn’t stand a chance against the local strays or the coyotes that are frequent visitors in these parts. Then, in a burst of inspiration, I rushed to my closet and opened it to discover a VERY upset cat. He bolted out of the closet, practically knocking me over. He’s been known to sneak into closets and cupboards and pantries and just about anywhere he could possibly get closed in. I’m usually very careful about checking for him, shooing him out, and closing doors. I missed him sneaking in behind me as I prepared to leave this time. I was gone all of three hours. He wasn’t happy to have been stuck in the closet, but he was relieved to be let out.

Unfortunately, this was the one time Fletch really really really had to pee while trapped. After tearing apart just about everything stored on the floor, he chose to pee on the two worst things to pee on: a leather backpack (KA paid $5 for it, but it was immensely useful and a personal favorite of mine) and — oh, God, this one really hurts — my camera backpack, complete with three lenses and my old camera. The camera and lenses survived, though I lost a variety of ephemera I can’t replace. The important stuff survived and that’s what matters most.

Throwing out both bags made me want to cry. It was a ridiculous reaction. For one thing, both bags can be replaced (or, y’know, not) and all turned out okay gear-wise. Secondly, I hadn’t used either since moving. Whatever importance they held was strictly (weirdly) sentimental and didn’t warrant tears. Thirdly, Fletch did what he had to do. I can’t fault him for heeding nature’s call. Bodily functions are bodily functions. In fact, I’m kind of proud of him for not getting the urine all over the carpet. Quite thoughtful, if you ask me! Actually, I’m guessing nothing got on the carpet. Every time I’ve opened the closet, I take a significant breath and can’t smell anything.

Now, my new fright is having to find a replacement camera case. I’ve started my search and am overwhelmed. Do I want a rolling bag or a backpack or messenger bag or something else? Do I want a bag capable of carrying two camera bodies, five lenses, a flash, my laptop, and the other accessories necessary for a successful shoot? I don’t have a camera shop nearby where I can dig around and try bags on for size. (I miss you, Calumet!) So, I’m trying to sort through the plethora of options online and finding myself paralyzed by the prospect of making a choice.

After all this, I think I can manage whatever Halloween has in store for me. I have candy for my landlords’ daughter as well as any other kids that might show up. I doubt I’ll see anyone else, but I’m prepared nonetheless. I can always eat whatever’s left.

Saturday is Mojo’s birthday. It’s also the landlords’ daughter’s birthday. Mojo’s gifts were sent and a card is on the way. Little Miss Tiny (Fletch’s name for her) has a couple little, inexpensive presents to open because she’s quite honestly one of my favorite kids I’ve ever met. I can’t help but pick up a book or some other little item for her. Fletch adores her and that’s a ringing endorsement if ever there was one.

I got way off track here and it’s late. This is where the post ends. Except to say:

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

2019/10/22

Eye Roll Bladder Control

Da Goddess @ 01:31

Because my back injury sometimes wreaks havoc on the nerves that control my bladder, I occasionally find myself suddenly needing to pee. It’s not an everyday occurrence, except when it is. I’ll be sitting quietly, reading, watching TV, working on some art project, and I have the unpleasant sensation of desperately needing the loo. As you might imagine, this urgent need is in direct opposition with what my legs are sometimes capable of, thanks to the injury to my lumbar-sacral region. It all becomes an exercise in will power and sheer determination to not pee everywhere.

While this isn’t 100% effective, I’ve discovered a method of bladder control that has proven fairly reliable: the Eye Roll Bladder Control.

It’s rather tricky and sometimes even painful, but I’ve yet to leave a trail of urine from wherever I am through to the loo.

You roll your eyes up and back as hard as you can while navigating your shuffle to the toilet. You should be focusing all your attention on pulling your eyes into your head and imagining that action pulling the urinary meatus* tightly closed. Again, the entire time you’re doing this, you’re walking or scuttling to the lav. Once there, you need to summon the assistance of demons you’ve kept well fed to help you get your underwear down and (I can’t stress this part enough — I’ve forgotten this step and cleaning the bathroom in the middle of the night while in severe pain is plain awful) the toilet lid up while also continuing the eye roll and attempting to sit before all hell breaks loose. This is why you always feed your helper demons exceedingly well. They use their magic to keep you pissing IN the pot instead of ON it and the floor.

I’ve had a few occasions when I was afraid my eyes would never reappear, but they’ve always managed to come back. Thank God!

It’s moments like this that has me glad to be living alone (with Fletch and the demons, that is). Yes, I’d like to have someone who could help me with cleaning up the bathroom if, heaven forbid, I owe a little (or a lot) on the floor or dribble down the side or what have you. Mostly, I’m glad no one’s here to witness the indignities of a worsening back injury. There’s just no romance in that scenario! Absolutely none. And there are worse situations, by far!

There you have it: my method of getting to the bathroom without flooding the whole place as I do so.

What glamorous indignity do you have and how do you try to get the better of it?

* Meatus (Me-ATE-us, rhymes with he-HATE-us) = a fancy medical term for the opening of the ureter (or any other opening related to body parts).

2019/10/16

Oh, the Stories I Could Tell

Da Goddess @ 19:03

Do I have a tale for you! A heart overflowing with emotion. Eyes brimming with tears. A sense of something greater than ourselves. Magic! Mystery! Love! Joy! And a bit of sadness that it had to end.

I’m four full days out from it, or five, depending on how you count your days. All I know is I am still carrying a feeling of wonder that even my raging sinus thing can’t kill. Neither can my painful back deny me the joy in my heart.

I’ll explain all in the coming days.

Now, be good to Mother and bring me some iced tea or something extra refreshing to drink.

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