“Carnivaluate the short and tallerate the weak”

So, it’s been about a week since I went to the ER and was diagnosed with gallstones. I’m doing a lot better… enough that I’ve put off the ultra-sound for the time being. (I figure there’s no sense in wracking up another bill I won’t be able to pay.) I’ve only taken 2 out of the 15 pain pills they gave me and I finish my antibiotic tomorrow. I couldn’t stick to the liquid only diet, but I have been able to eat low-fat. I did have some soul food over the weekend though. I anticipated it would kill my stomach, but I felt ok, just a little tender/uncomfortable. Moderation, I think, is going to be the key. Some people would say the upshot of my bout of illness is that I dropped another 10 lbs. (That makes a total of 37 lbs that I have lost since April, with only minor changes/effort. My current weight is 160 lbs. I guess I’ll just keep going and see what happens.)

I haven’t received the bill from the hospital yet. I’m not as freaked out about it as I was initially. It is a Catholic facility with a charity program that might be able to help me some. (Sidenote: It was really weird and off-putting to be asked at intake what religion I am. I said none of the above.) I’ll pay what I can as I can and if that doesn’t work out, bankruptcy it is then… hell, my credit score has always been in the low 400’s… I’ve never had a credit card and never will… and I came to terms with the fact that I will never own a home long ago, so… *shrug* *shrug* *shrug*

I’m spending time doing things that aren’t as stressful for me while I am on the mend. I miss camming, but when I am online a lot, I can’t avoid the temptation of looking at other things I know will upset me and jack up my blood pressure. I’m not giving up camming, but I am cutting back for my health. I need to relax more and the best way for me to do that is to disengage mentally more often. Books and Netflix are taking over for a while and I might actually start that craft project!!! :)

However, soon I need to do something I really don’t want to do before I can completely rest easily- call my parents and tell them what happened. Wish me luck. I’ll catch up with you all later. xoxo

Edited: September 7th, 2010

The ER Visit

After the eighth day of constant searing stomach pain, I finally broke down and went to the ER. I was there from about 5:30pm to 1:00am. They took two vials of blood and offered me a morphine shot, which I turned down. Sure, I’m curious about it, but I wanted to be fully cognizant of everything they were doing and (hopefully) be able to go home afterwards. Also, narcotics make me fairly nauseous and considering I was there for stomach issues, I thought there was no need to risk further complicating things. I spent a long time laying there, watching tv- one episode of Plain Jane and two episodes of South Park. When someone finally reappeared, I got to pee in a cup. They then gave me anti-nausea meds and I drank Contrast before getting a cat scan.

Diagnosis: Gallstones. Treatment: Follow-up ultrasound in a week or two to determine whether I need my gallbladder removed via laparoscopic surgery. Cost: Astronomical for someone that is uninsured and lives paycheck to paycheck.

Although my blood pressure was kinda high (140/60) and my urine sample white cell count was high, my metabolic panel didn’t show anything unusual. Most importantly, liver function was normal, which means the gallstones aren’t blocking anything, so surgery may not be mandatory. I was running a fever of 100.4 though, which normally indicates an infection, however there was no visible evidence of infection/inflammation of my gallbladder (yet), so that’s a bit odd. They went ahead and gave me an antibiotic (Cipro) as a precaution and Lortab for pain. [Note: Surprisingly, Kroger beat out Walmart on the prescription prices by a little over a buck.] The doc suggested I try a liquid only diet if I can stand it, or at least low-fat until the pain gets better.

Today is my first day back to work. I’m feeling scared, relieved, angry, sore, tired and little bit sorry for myself. :P

Edited: September 1st, 2010

What’s up, doc?

I called in sick to work. Again. I’ve been trying to make myself go to the ER for two or three days now.
I’ve had searing stomach pain since last Tuesday. I thought it was just dyspepsia, stress, lack of sleep, bad food or maybe that I needed a good poo, but I’ve tried every remedy known to man to treat all of these possibilities and nothing has helped at all. The pain has actually increased each day to the point that I can’t really function now. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t sit up. I can’t lay down. It all hurts like hell. Nothing eases it in the least.
Disturbingly, everything I am experiencing sounds exactly like what a friend experienced when she went to the ER with stomach pain and they ended up removing her gallbladder. Fuck.
I’m scared- not about what they’ll find or what they’ll do, but about the cost. I’m uninsured and live paycheck to paycheck. My garnishment for student loans just recently ended, after two years of misery. I’m still paying off the IRS, but all the while accruing more tax debt because if I change my Withholding, I won’t have enough money to live on. I cannot, simply cannot, incur any more bills. However, I also cannot handle this level of physical pain any longer, so to the ER I must go.
How long will I wait? 4 hours? 6 hours? More? Will they even be able to do any thing for me? I’ll never know unless I get off my ass. Anything has got to better than this stabbing, stifling burning, right? Besides, what if I let it go and it became even more serious/costly?
I know, I know. I’m going.

Edited: August 31st, 2010

A Wise Man Once Said…

“We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.” – William Somerset Maugham

Edited: June 15th, 2010

The Light Has Gone Out Of My Eyes

I feel like my life is at a standstill. I am going through the motions- eating (albeit it very little), sleeping (though not well, even with the aid of drugs), doing household chores (in hopes of exhausting myself enough to fall asleep for an hour or two without having to lie awake thinking), getting up and getting ready for work (because it might distract me for a few minutes), blah, blah, blah… but there are no moments of happiness (not even fleeting).

There’s nothing left for me any more. And just when I think I couldn’t possibly shed any more tears, I spring another leak. And I can’t stop. It doesn’t matter where I am (at work, on the bus, in the store), what I’m doing (talking, reading, drinking, camming) or who is around (clients, complete strangers, friends, family).

Every single hour of every single day I think, “I can’t do this any more.” The only thing keeping me alive is that I couldn’t do ‘that’ to my parents. I love them far too much to put them through ‘that.’ When they are gone, I figure I will be too. I am the girl with no future. I threw it all away and there’s apparently nothing I can do or say to get it back.

Edited: June 10th, 2010

What Ever Happened To Him?

 

I was afraid I knew the answer. Why did I ask the question? I think it was because I wanted to be wrong. I wanted someone to tell me he was alive… and well.

When I met John he was recovering from cancer. We were introduced in a bar and over a few beers, I was told the story of how he almost died. He wasn’t in remission, but John didn’t look “terminally ill” (his skin wasn’t sallow and he still had all his hair) and I figured he must be doing well with his treatment if he was out drinking with friends.

(The wheels were already turning.)

I almost wonder if our friends anticipated how he’d tug at my heartstrings, how I’d want to give him some happiness in whatever way I could, to make up for some of the pain he’d felt and what he had to go through. Maybe that had something to do with why they made certain we became acquainted by leaving us to spend some time alone talking. You see, I have a soft spot for nice guys who deserve a little more female attention than they are used to getting. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I am the Queen Of Pity Fucks, but I cannot deny it has happened before and it will likely happen again. But, I didn’t quite feel sorry for John. I felt more angry that he was cheated out of a portion of his life. I wanted to put things right. I knew what it was like to feel defective, different, defeated, yet still proud you’d made it this far.

As if intense empathy wasn’t enough to spark an attraction, John also made me laugh- out loud, a rapturous, carefree sound accompanied by a genuine wide, toothy grin. (Like so many women, I am a sucker for a witty sense of humour.) In friendly retaliation, I liked to make him blush with my flirtations and PDA. He loved getting the attention and I loved giving it, especially to someone so appreciative. He made me feel wanted emotionally, not just desirable sexually. It didn’t take long for us to progress to dating exclusively. We each gave the other something needed at the time.

People tell me that before John got cancer he was mean. A few said he could still be pretty spiteful sometimes. I never experienced that. Anything I wanted to do, anywhere I wanted to go, whatever I wanted, John was like a puppy dog. I say that with tenderness, dismay and guilt, because it was eagerness and devotion that drew me to him and that played a part in pushing me away. He adored me when I couldn’t adore myself.

John had a nerdy innocence about him and even though it had clearly endeared me, friends warned me to be careful with him… not necessarily just because he was sick, but because he had so little experience with women and I was known to be, well, a Maneater. And John had enough to deal with. “He didn’t need a broken heart on top of having cancer.“ Sometimes it is hard to hear the echo of that statement in my head. I feel it in my heart too.

I know that our break-up was probably inevitable. (I was in, what I consider to be, my formative years when we met… partying, drinking, fucking, having fun, trying new things. I outgrew the relationship, while he was a point in his life that everything stayed the same for him.) But, I don’t think getting involved with John was a mistake. I like to think that I still gave him a reason to smile, even if only for a while. He certainly made me appreciate the value of having a few close friends as opposed to a lot of acquaintances. John also taught me that “normal” is relative. What ‘happened’ to him is that he became more than I could ask for – an unforgettable part of my life.

 

John is buried in Crown Hill Cemetery. There is a pilgrimage I have to make.

Rest In Peace
January 11, 2003

Edited: October 13th, 2009

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Edited: October 11th, 2009

Does Not Compute

I am stunned right now. I finally have a name to put to something that has been ‘wrong’ with me since elementary school, something that always made me feel bad/weird, etc. Better still, I found someone else with the same problem!
I don’t know where to start, so I’ll start at the logical place- the beginning. I have an excellent grasp of grammar and terrific reading comprehension. I write and speak well and I absolutely devour books, many of which would be considered “boring” or scholarly tomes, with ease. However, I’ve always had trouble with the most basic math. To this day, at age 31, I still can’t compute numbers in my head, make change, or measure properly. I have to make a guess and my guesses are usually way off. When I’m faced with a set of numbers and have to manipulate them in some way, I don’t know what to do with them. My brain just stalls. I draw a complete blank. I freeze. This makes me nervous, embarrassed, anxious, afraid, stressed, etc etc, which of course, only makes the ordeal worse and exacerbates future instances.
Teachers recommended my parents get a tutor. The tutors found different ways to explain things to me. I could do arithmetic along with them, but could not do it on my own and correctly duplicate their work, nor could I repeat the things we worked on A LOT once I returned to class. The tutors suggested my parents take me to a psychologist to determine what was causing my “fear of math,” which they suspected stemmed from my parents worrying about money and thus me worrying about the cause and effect of money, which translated to numbers. The doctor told them I had a “number block” and that tedious memory exercises might help. They also arranged with the school for me to take my math tests by myself in the quiet library. It didn’t make a significant difference. I still failed tests, just by a little less. The teachers gave me a shitload of extra credit worksheets to do with my tutor just so I could pass their classes with a D-. (I was especially lucky one year when my math teacher was my older brother’s best friend from when they were my age. He allowed me to do written “essays” about Arithmetic related topics to help my grade.) I never knew why it was so hard for me- especially when I was so advanced in things like English/Literature/Humanities.
Now, I believe I have Dyscalculia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dyscalculia
         Potential symptoms (my comments are in italicized parenthesis):

  • Frequent difficulties with arithmetic, confusing the signs: +, −, ÷ and ×.  (Sort of. I don’t know which sign to “perform” on a set of numbers in order to get the result I need.)
  • Difficulty with everyday tasks like checking change and reading analog clocks. (I can’t make change without at least counting on my fingers or making an illustration and I usually even need a calculator. I round times up or down depending on how close the hand is to either number.)
  • Inability to comprehend financial planning or budgeting, sometimes even at a basic level; for example, estimating the cost of the items in a shopping basket or balancing a checkbook. (I get thrown off by tax. I round up and add an additional dollar to that, hoping I’ll get close enough not to be under the total due.)
  • Difficulty with multiplication-tables, and subtraction-tables, addition tables, division tables, mental arithmetic, etc. (I know them when I SEE them written down, but I can’t THINK them in my head.)
  • May do fairly well in subjects such as science and geometry, which require logic rather than formulae, until a higher level requiring calculations is obtained. (I rule at logic and abstract concepts, yet I was literally 2 points away from failing General Math. I’ve never really done algebra; I just couldn’t grasp why the letters and unknown quantities had to exist at all and I never could figure out how to put something in there place to make the equation “work” right. I barely passed each math course I’ve taken and had an A or A- in every other subject. Math was the only thing that prevented me from a 4.0 gpa in high school. In college, I couldn’t even pass the remedials that would have allowed me to take the basics, which caused me to only be able to obtain an Associates instead of a Bachelors because I could not pass the basic required math courses needed for a four year education degree.)
  • Difficulty with conceptualizing time and judging the passing of time. May be chronically late. (Kind of. I had always attributed it to just being “distracted.” I set my clocks 13 minutes fast because if I look at them, my mind will round that to 10 and I end up hurrying, thinking I only have ten minutes, which makes me right on time!)
  • Particularly problems with differentiating between left and right. (No, not really, but I can’t think of streets in terms of North or South, etal.)
  • Difficulty navigating or mentally “turning” the map to face the current direction rather than the common North=Top usage. (Whoa, just noticed this is an issue for me! Never gave it much thought. I always have to physically put maps in the direction I’m going for them to make sense!
  • Having particular difficulty mentally estimating the measurement of an object or distance e.g., whether something is 10 or 20 feet/3 or 6 meters away. (True. I couldn’t even begin to accurately guess. I cannot “visualize” 10 feet.)
  • Often unable to grasp and remember mathematical concepts, rules, formulae, and sequences. (No matter how many times they are explained or shown to me, they don’t seem logical and I can’t retain the information.)
  • An inability to read a sequence of numbers, or transposing them when repeated, such as turning 56 into 65. (If I quietly repeat them to myself several times first, I might get it right!)
  • Difficulty keeping score during games. (I assumed this was just a memory problem or that I was distracted.)
  • Difficulty with games such as poker with more flexible rules for scoring. (I’ve been playing Euchre and Texas Hold Em for over 20 years, but I still have to remind myself what cards are worth which values and which cards are a what.)
  • Difficulty in activities requiring sequential processing, from the physical (such as dance steps) to the abstract (reading, writing and signaling things in the right order). May have trouble even with a calculator due to difficulties in the process of feeding in variables. (OMG! I was awful at the dancing portion in show choir, not just because I was uncoordinated, but even more so because I couldn’t remember when to do what move no matter how much repetition was drilled into my head!)
  • The condition may lead in extreme cases to a phobia or durable anxiety of mathematics and mathematic-numeric devices/coherences. (Totally! I already know what’s going to happen – that I’m not going to be able to do the math and that makes me feel even more [insert emotion here].)
  • Low latent inhibition, i.e., over-sensitivity to noise, smell, light and the inability to tune out, filtering unwanted information or impressions. Might have a well-developed sense of imagination due to this, possibly as cognitive compensation to mathematical-numeric deficits. (Hell yes! I can’t read with music on or study with the tv going. I need quiet and bright lights. I focus on the most appealing work first- whatever is creative or “literary” and put off the rest until the last moment.)

Wow. Most of these describe me! I should take an official test to confirm it! I’m not stupid or inept afterall! To know exactly what’s wrong with me and that I’m not the only one is such a huge relief. I wish someone had known back then. Maybe I could have been helped and saved a lot of negativity.

Edited: August 21st, 2009

Ask; Don’t Steal!

I’m sitting here next to an open window, basking in the breeze, when I hear some urgent whispering and rustling sounds. I look out and see two guys pulling on the branches of our apple tree that the tree is bowed. I mean, they are really tugging hard without regard for the tree at all. (It has been loose in the ground since the last major storm and we’re worried it won’t make it. We’re surprised it bloomed at all, considering. Anyway, people yanking on it is obviously not only bad for the tree, but dangerous for them too.)

We deal with people trespassing on our property and stealing our fruit every year. It’s getting really fucking old. The trees have to be professionally cared for and it isn’t cheap. We’d like to enjoy some of our own fruit that we’ve spent time and money to grow. I don’t think that is unreasonable. We tell the neighbors that anyone is welcome to have some, as long as they just konck on the door and ask us first- don’t trespass and don’t steal. We’ll give them some. Seems fair, right?

And yet there are still people who help themselves. And when we catch them, we are way too fucking nice, in my opinion. We ask them to please stay out of the yard and not to take the fruit without asking. Then, we give them some!  Today, the neighbors across the street were livid that we came out and did this. They ranted and raved about how we had no right to accuse anyone of anything… BUT I SAT HERE AND WATCHED THEM WHILE THEY DID IT and our neighbors were sitting out on their front porch facing the tree, so there’s absolutely no way they could not or did not see them!

I can’t help but feel like we’re victims of racism here. Our house sits on the corner of an intersection and we’re the only white family on that particular street. I feel like everyone takes up for their homies in the hood, but thinks “fuck whitey.” There sure seems to be some sort of stereotyping and “rob from the rich, steal from the poor” mentality going on. The irony is, we have as little as most of the families in this depressed area. We’re struggling too.

I wish we could find some sense of unity for the sake of the neighborhood. We want it to be a nice place to live. We want it to be a safe place to live.  We’d never dream of trying to run people out of it to suit our standard, but I have to admit, I cannot wait until I can move somewhere else. Where ever I go, it will have its own unique set of problems. I understand that, but it doesn’t mean I have to accept it. There’s a place that is a good fit for me. I don’t know where it is, but I’m positive that it isn’t here.

Edited: August 2nd, 2009

The New Girl

I took an Old 97’s tune called The New Kid (swapped the genders, changed kid to girl, tweaked a couple of other words) and parodied it into a song about the camgirl world, ha!

Verse 1:
The new girl, she’s got money
The money I deserve
She’s got the goods but she’s not good for her word
I should be rolling in it
I’ve been a working stiff
As for the justice no one knows where it went

Chorus:
I’m gonna cam away
Until my dyin’ day
I will be remembered for the hot things I did
Believe me every year
There is another one here
Don’t you see I used to be the new girl
I am sorry to say
You’ll get carried away
Oh
You will be replaced
You will be replaced
I tell you again
Don’t get too settled in
Oh
You will be replaced
You will be replaced
by the new girl

Verse 2:
The new girl, she’s got my fans
The fans I used to have
She’s got the looks you know, but not from her dad
They should be kissing my ass
They should be so in love
There is no justice
There’s just dark stars above

Edited: June 21st, 2009

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