My blog's been getting hits, so in case that's from anyone wondering why I haven't updated, I'm still here, just not doing very well. It's gotten worse since the last entry, including flareups of 12 hours, 19 hours (I broke down and had to call Psychologist just to make it through the weekend after that one), and, yesterday and the previous night, over 24 hours; during these the fluid loss isn't as great, it just flares up and lets up then flares up then lets up while I'm letting out just enough to keep me from being able to sleep or function yet too little to dehydrate me. I'm down to drinking no more than 3 cups of fluid a day (plus I'm bloated and not losing weight) but it doesn't matter, I can't understand where it's coming from. I did get almost two weeks of wonderful, regular sleep, and a few days where it didn't act up that badly, but yesterday ended that. Fortunately I was able to sleep moderately okay last night (probably with the help of the pseudoephedrine I took to help me breathe as I've been crying so much my head is stuffed--pseudoephedrine is a stimulant but makes me groggy), but all I ever feel like doing anymore is sleeping (not that I'm able that much), lying in the tub, or crying, so I don't feel like typing up an entry that much either. There's minimal support from anyone around me so that just compounds matters; I could maybe handle this a bit better if I had some encouragement and sympathy, but aside from Psychologist (who I get to see so rarely), that's not the case; I'm basically on my own. I had to dig out a big stuffed dog of mine and hug it last night, I felt so miserable and needed something to hold on to.

I could deal with this better if I knew for a fact that eventually somebody would find out what's wrong with me and help me, but I don't, and that's killing me, that this could be permanent and I might never get to go to my island or sleep or function properly again. There isn't even any pattern to this, except in that it continually gets worse. I went to the trouble of picking a female doctor in case I need to be examined but all she did was the absolute minimum--blood and urine tests--before shuttling me off to see a (male) urologist. I'm glad the urologist is located in Cheboygan (don't know about any other specialists I'll end up seeing, probably not) and I get to see him next month (ditto), but I believe he'll just do the absolute minimum of tests too before shuttling me off to yet another person who'll do the absolute minimum before shuttling me off. It's the story of my life. Recall when I was applying for disability? There were at least three, maybe more, people online who vowed--I'm not exaggerating--to go out of their way, "to the ends of the earth," as one put it, to help me through the process. How did they help? One bailed out after a few encouraging words, one pretty much snapped at me to get off my butt and get a job, and the one who promised to go to the ends of the earth told me to Google disability lawyers in the Cheboygan area and that was it, didn't hear from her again. That's just one example of many when people promised--like the female doctor I chose--to help me through a problem, then after the absolute minimum, shrugged their shoulders, said, "Oh well, better luck elsewhere!" then shuttled me off to yet another person who vowed to do their best before waffling a bit and giving up and moving on. I realize I need to put some effort into things, but I have been--twice I've had to call to get my test results because they weren't bothering to call me first--and how am I supposed to believe my life and I are worth anything when nobody else seems to believe they are? At least that's what these lukewarm "efforts" are telling me.

Even when it's not acting up, it feels like it's acting up, so I can't win no matter what the case. My life has boiled down to me sitting in the house all day crying, trying to read, lying in hot water, and looking out the windows at the birds. The birds and squirrels and the cat are my only companions anymore. My OCD--my compulsion to follow my routines no matter how little I feel like it--I have to wake up at such-and-such a time, I have to do my Internet at this time, I have to do my writing, I have to feed the birds--is the only thing that's keeping me getting up every day at all. I don't have any other real reason to bother.

So as you can see, I don't really feel like updating or doing much of anything anymore. I just want this all over, however that happens. I'd be perfectly content with just not waking up someday. My life was lousy enough before, but now even my own body is turning on me; I feel like every day a little bit more of what little I had of a life is being taken away. It's like my entire purpose in being alive is to just be crushed a little more, every day. I don't really have much left in me to crush, not that I had much to begin with.

There were a few semi-good observations and such mixed in with all the above, but I haven't the desire or energy to write about them. Plus I think it might be starting up again now; it's sad, when getting a few hours or one night of sleep is the best you can hope for anymore. I don't know when I'll next update so that's all.

 

My exercise and Kitty's outdoors time were just interrupted by the arrival of a large gangly black Lab puppy. I came around the corner of the house to find both of them in the side yard greeting each other. Ugh. ;_; The puppy gamboled around me spastically while Cozbug just fluffed like a Halloween cat; when the dog got too near him, he hissed and slapped it across the face so it yelped, and there was even drool dripping from his--Coz's, I mean--mouth. Scary. I tried to separate the two and distract the puppy and tell Coz to run for the porch, but he ran for a tree instead and climbed a quarter up it, and so I tried to coax the puppy toward the porch instead, but it ran for the tree and Coz then climbed halfway up. ;_; I finally got the puppy's attention enough to get it over to the porch where I locked it and then went to coax Coz back down if I could since he was so very high up. I was afraid he might not come down, but he started clawing his way back to the bottom and ran for the back porch door, but that was where the puppy was contained and I had to get him to the front porch instead. By the time I reached him he had started to climb the tree in the concrete circle. ;_; I plucked him off, murmuring reassuring words as I carried him down the driveway to the front porch, only to realize that my feet were TERRIBLY wet and I wasn't sweating THAT bad--Coz had just peed all over me! ;_; Ugh. I managed to deposit him inside the house, then went back around to the back porch to let out the puppy, it's a wonder it didn't piddle all over my jacket. I stood outside with it a few moments trying to coax it to leave and go back wherever it came from but it was just getting more and more rambunctious, just gnawing like crazy on my hand. Seriously, I wonder if it was trying to pull me back where it came from like Lassie taking Timmy somewhere or something. It just would not let go of my hand. I'm used to being gnawed on by dogs, I don't mind, but it was starting to hurt and I was worrying that the dog would start to get violent--who knows, I haven't a clue what this dog is like--so I started trying to make my way back toward the porch, the dog gnawing on me all the way. I wonder if anyone was watching us, this poor girl with this dog attached to her hand, just saying over and over again, "Yes, that's pee. That's your fault. Okay, not so hard. Bad dog. Bad dog has to go back where it came from. Yes, that's my cat's pee. That's your fault."

"If I throw a stick, will you leave?" I asked it as I neared the door, since it was honestly not letting up. I picked up the nearest twig and tossed it, which distracted the puppy enough for me to reach the porch and shut the door. It came back and looked in at me with its ears pricked and such huge disappointed eyes. I cracked the door to tell it it was nothing personal and it had to go back where it came from so I could see to my poor cat, go on, be a good doggy, bye-bye. Even after I shut the door and started up the steps, I heard it launch itself at it with a thud. Ugh. ;_;

Inside Kitty was still poofed up and quite unhappy and I seriously had to change my clothes. Cripes, it's not even the middle of the week yet and I have to change into my other set of houseclothes. Honestly, Kitty. Peeing all over me like that. WTF. I didn't even get to finish my exercise, I still had like seven minutes left. I'm sure all this gamboling about with the puppy used up about as much energy, but still, I'm just anal that way. I have a timer and everything. But I wasn't about to go back out and face Happy Psycho Handchewing Puppy again. *sigh*

After changing I petted the Cheesebug to calm him down and gave him some treats, don't know if he's touched them yet, he's back to normal by now at least. Not so my clothes, I've had to set them on the hamper; as if I haven't been smelling pee enough lately what with my own issues, now I have to smell his. Ugh. Washed my mangled hand, which is covered with dog teeth welts and even a few scratches; put some alcohol on it for good measure since we haven't anything else. Went back outside to peek around and see if Happy Psycho Puppy was still around, he wasn't. Good. Hope he went back home. Stupid f**king pet owners who can't keep watch of their pets, what if he ran out in traffic or met up with somebody not so willing to let their hand get mangled by a happy psycho puppy? What if their dog hadn't been so friendly and had attacked my cat? Granted, I could and should keep a better eye on my own pet as he was wandering about our yard, but I was only around the corner, and the owners of this dog, whoever they are, aren't anywhere in sight. I'm trying to think, I don't believe he even had a collar or tags. Just this gangly black Lab with a white foot. I seem to recall us seeing a similar dog wandering about before so he probably lives nearby and went safely back home, but still. We're right on a highway and at a junction of roads. It's all too easy for him to get killed. Why even have a dog if you won't keep an eye on him.

I'm starting to feel depressed again...that's why I haven't been journaling, this medical issue has become so problematic that it's overshadowing everything else and I'm losing all interest in doing anything. It hasn't been so bad the past few days, but the other day I spent seven hours in and out of the bathroom and lost as many cups of fluid within the same period of time, and today's looking like the same as it's been acting up since around 10:30 AM and is still bothering me. It'll let up and let me think it's done, then it'll come back fifteen minutes later. I missed going to the powwow because I can't tell when I'll need a bathroom or not, and that pretty much shoots down any chances of going to the island or anywhere else again... -_-

Oh CRUD! I just saw the Animal Control van go by...I saw it go by earlier this morning but paid it no attention...and as it passed there were yapping puppy sounds coming from it! The poor thing...I hope its owners manage to get it in time. Stupid f**king owners. Jeez I hope it doesn't have a disease.

Have to go now, not proofed, tar.

 

Started EFMI:205 today. BIG IMPORTANT PLOT POINT AT LAST. I'm afraid I can't even vaguely explain what it involves as ANYTHING would be very spoilery. Not that anyone reading this would much care, but anyway. I was thrilled to reach it at last. This is like the really big point that comes before the two climaxes. (Yes, the story has like two of them. Again, I can't really explain without giving it all away. And nobody reading this will ever read that far in the story so...*shrug.*)

Also there are at least FIVE grosbeaks visiting us now. Ugh. They are such huge honking pigs. I can't wait until they leave in the autumn. Which is unfortunately soon. *sigh*

Tar...

 

Although I dislike and have long avoided this site (all-too-frequently, and with weird glee, linked to on writing forums) for its tendency to call EVERY SINGLE THING EVER DONE a "trope" ("OMG!--the characters are searching for something--TROPE!--the protagonist is female--TROPE!!--somebody wakes up one day--TROPE!!!"), I found that this particular article sums up a lot of my fears about my writing.

http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheChrisCarterEffect

Interestingly, I was once a diehard X-Files fan, then lost track of what the heck was going on and then lost all interest entirely. I never knew of Carter's admission mentioned in this article, but I guess it makes sense.

I have to wonder if what happened with The X-Files and me is the same deal with readers of my stories. I know the general gist of things in advance, but I basically make it up as I go along. I try hard to resolve what I can (else writing the things would have been an immense waste of my precious time), but it takes a VERY long time to get there. It makes me think beginning readers might suspect I'll never get there.

Anyway. The article says it better.

Tar...

 

And now I think it's starting up again.

I don't think I can keep taking this.

 

So much for the 24-48-hour cycle. Last night I spent half the night in the bathroom when only about twelve hours before I had just gone through the same thing. So now, not only does it hit almost every day, and hit at any time of the day, and last up to three hours or more, but it can also happen more than once in a day. I thought for sure I'd have a nice night of sleep, but now I can't have even that. And now it's finally getting nice and warm out and I can't even enjoy it as all I want to do is go back to bed, but I can't, because that'll mess up my NEXT sleep cycle, as if it won't be messed up already now that I know this can hit me more than once in a day.

I just want to be able to sleep and function again. I'm so tired.

 

Typed up earlier today.

Holy cripes it's a good thing I get rabid when it comes to getting ripped off. Or else that I keep track of things. Today I decided to see if the gas bill was due yet and logged in to find it was $127.82. Almost exactly FOUR TIMES the amount last month ($31.97). I just gawked at the screen. There was NO WAY that could be right--yeah, it's been a cold sucky month, but the heater's only been on like a couple of times, and I might have taken a few hot baths but not THAT many! Looking all over the site for info on our usage (which I could not find, they redid their site but USED to have such info easily available) I even learned that the price apparently went DOWN by a few cents or some such in the past month, so why our bill was FOUR TIMES as much as it was last time, that made no sense. I told Dad I was not going to pay that, no way. He said I'd have to pay it and then argue with them but I found out their phone line is open until two on Saturdays so logged off to call them.

Was put on hold, then every time the automated system started to tell me something, it would get cut off as it apparently shuttled me through on its own. It was like, "Push one if-- You are now leaving our automated system. If-- If you are a residential--" She would never get to finish a sentence. Listened to some lousy music for a bit. Finally got a representative but I had to call out, "Hello?" to make sure he was real and could hear me since it was terribly staticky for some reason. Gave him the account number and name, but couldn't give him the last digits of the Social Security number as those aren't listed in my account. So he had me give him our phone number and said he could talk to me about the details of the account but he wouldn't be able to put through any "orders" or something. Er, okay, whatever. I just wanted to know why our gas bill was so frigging huge!

"I'm wondering if we've been overcharged on our gas bill," I said. "It's about four times as much as it was last month."

"It does look pretty high for summer usage," he admitted, apparently looking at our account info on his computer. "Has your furnace been running?"

"It's probably run only about once or twice in the past month."

"Yeah, that does seem pretty high...perhaps the meter was misread. We send someone out every month to read it, and we have to have an actual person do this, so maybe there was a mixup. I'm going to have you read the meter and let me know what it says. Do you know where the gas meter is located?"

"It's on the outside of our house but I have no idea how to read it."

"Do you have a cell phone so I can guide you through it?"

"No, but my dad can go and do it. Could you hold on for a minute?" I felt very weird putting a customer service representative on hold for a change but he agreed and I covered up the mouthpiece and gestured Dad to go read the meter, having to ask the guy on the phone how to do it--"There's four little clocklike gauges; you start with the one on the right and see what numbers it's between, then the one to the left of that, then the next, then the next." I stood and waited while Dad went out and did this, then came back in with the numbers, and I read them off. He'd written down four sets of two numbers with arrows pointing to the numbers that I guess the gauges were closest to, but I wasn't sure how to read this to the guy on the phone so just gave each set of numbers. I heard something dinging or beeping like he was getting new e-mail as he said he was checking this against the reading they'd been given.

"Yeah," he said at last, "the last time we had somebody out there to read the meter, which was August 6th, Thursday, he gave us these numbers--" he said four of them, and when I checked them against the four numbers Dad had pointed at with arrows I saw one was different, though I could not tell how the guy on the phone knew this, I guess they have their ways, *shrug* "--instead of that, so let me recalibrate your bill so it's correct...now the bill is $25-something." (I've forgotten and haven't logged back in to see yet.)

WHEW. I'd been ready to start freaking out, if the bill was going to be four times as much all of a sudden there's no way I'd be able to afford paying it! "All right, thank you," I said; he asked if there was anything else he could help me with, I said no, we thanked each other etc. etc. and I hung up and had to sit down, my legs were just about water, UGH UGH UGH I hate phones!! >_<

I'm amazed that just one little misread number can make a hundred-dollar difference; Jeez. I'm glad I checked the account today, if I'd done it on Sunday I'd have had to wait until Monday to call them, and Dad wouldn't have been here to read the meter, I think I'd go crazy waiting to call and figure out what the deal was there! Cripes. I know my baths don't use up that much gas.

Okay, so, here I'm going to explain the medical issue that's been bugging me, even though it's rather personal. It's just such an ongoing thing that it's bound to come up again. I have some sort of urinary thing going on. I have no clue what it is--it was acting up when I last saw Psychologist, and had delayed me from seeing her the time before last, so I ended up explaining the matter to her and she even called in a nurse to consult with and both she and the nurse were mystified. See, almost once a day (I say "almost" as it seems to be closer to a 24-48-hour cycle, though every time I think I see a pattern I lose it again), I have to go to the bathroom like crazy for about 1-3hrs. My bladder just fills up like every 10-15 minutes, constantly. It fades in gradually and then gradually tapers off back to normal. I discovered, when I once got the idea to try to keep track of how much is actually coming out of me (haven't done that since I'd have to measure and all this whatnot, so tedious), that the urine coming out of me at these times is almost clear--it's like just water is coming out. So for some reason, once every 1-2 days, my bladder goes crazy letting out all this really watery underprocessed urine.

This has been going on for over a year as far as I know; I never kept track as at first it wasn't that bad and I thought it would go away, then when it got worse it was still tolerable and I figured I'd just live with it. But it's gotten too bothersome. This used to happen once a month, about a week after my period, which made sense. But it slowly came to be about once a day. Seeing as it tended to happen around the same time every day--around wakeup time (I'd occasionally get up an hour early as it would awaken me) to late morning--that wasn't such a hassle. But then it started to move to different parts of the day without any apparent pattern--it could strike in the late morning, at bedtime, at wakeup time, even in the middle of the night when I was trying to sleep. (I already have a sensitive bladder and any amount of urine keeps me awake!) Well, it only lasted about an hour back then, I could live with it. Until one time recently in the middle of the night I spent about three hours in and out of the bathroom, crying, because I just could not stop peeing and could not get to sleep. So now it not only happened at any damn time it wanted to, it was lasting LONGER, and interfering with sleep, which I used to love. I'm not kidding, I used to adore sleep and enjoy it so much, but now whenever I go to bed all I can think is, will I be able to sleep tonight without spending a few hours in the bathroom?

Aside from a slight apparent tie to my menstrual cycle--the problem seems to abate the week before I start, then start up again afterward--I can find no connection to anything. Not even to how much I drink--I even cut back on how much I drink in an effort to stop the problem but it makes no difference. It doesn't matter whether I drink three cups of fluid or seven. And it's not like I sit there and drink it all in one sitting, which would be the only reason for all this urine to want to come out at once! I looked up various things online that could cause excessive urination but nothing fits.

I don't have a urinary tract infection as there's no pain or burning and there never has been, plus, what kind of UTI makes you pee like crazy for only a certain amount of time each day, then lets up?

I'm not pregnant. That much is obvious.

I don't have diabetes. I don't even have excessive thirst, though judging by the amount I pee during these periods, I have every right to be thirsty!

I don't believe I have overactive bladder, as, based on what I read about that, that's just the FEELING that you have to go when you don't really, since your bladder muscles keep contracting, plus, incontinence is a feature. I'm not incontinent, I can hold it in (within reason!). And I don't just feel like I have to pee, I REALLY DO have to pee, like every ten minutes!

I even spent an entire morning reading about yeast infections and all that jazz; nothing whatsoever about urinary issues there, though as you've seen from an earlier entry, I did learn more than I ever want to know about the female anatomy. But I didn't learn what my problem is. As I said, even Psychologist and Nurse were perplexed; after I'd mentioned how it moves to different times of the day Nurse said, "I was going to suggest morning diuresis, but knowing that it moves throughout the day, I have no idea!"

After which I looked up diuresis; excessive urination. What is morning diuresis? I imagine this is what normal people go through. Normal people sleep throughout the night, then wake up in the morning and pee. Me? I have a compulsion to set my clock to wake me up every hour (or two hours, if I'm having trouble sleeping due to cold/that time of the month/THIS frigging problem) so I can go to the bathroom and then go back to sleep. Meaning, I have no reason to have to pee excessively when I awake, as I go every hour, compulsively, whether I really have to go or not. I'm the same during the daytime. This makes keeping track of how often I urinate (which Nurse advised me to do) problematic as the results would be skewed to make it look like I ALWAYS go often when the truth is, I just prefer to go to the bathroom at least once an hour, whether I really have to or not. That's not an issue (though my mother harped that it was, assuming that I ALWAYS have to go to the bathroom excessively just because I happen to willingly use the bathroom excessively), but whatever this is causing this watery urine for a few hours every day or so, IS an issue. It's interfering with my sleep. It's interfering with my daily life, as I can never be sure when it'll hit, during a long drive somewhere (at least a couple of times I can remember), or an appointment with Psychologist (twice so far), or in the middle of an outing, like say to Mackinac Island where there are no bathrooms around (not yet, but likely to happen ).

I tried the whole cranberry juice and now cranberry pills thing, no luck. Not that I expected it. My only thing is I consume caffeine, yes. That can cause excessive urination from what I read but I've been drinking tea for years with no problems and I'm fairly certain my parents consume more caffeine than I do, what with their constant coffee and pop consumption! And as already said, it doesn't matter whether I drink three cups of tea in a day or seven, the peeing is still a problem. (I even started taking a "stay awake" (i. e., caffeine) pill daily to offset the headaches I get from not drinking as much tea, but there's only as much caffeine as a cup of coffee in one of those, and caffeine doesn't keep me awake, it just calms me down, so that's not an issue.) Caffeine is my one vice, and it's not even a huge one--I'm not downing a dozen energy drinks or cups of coffee a day. I do not believe that is the problem. If it is, then there's something additional to have made it start to BE a problem only in the past year or so.

I'm typing this entry up as it's acting up. It started around 11AM. It's now a quarter to two. I just went to the bathroom after forty minutes (having held it that long means it's not acting up nearly as badly as it often does, the 15-20 minutes I spent waiting for Psychologist were almost unbearable) and let out about half a cup of almost clear fluid. Around one, it was slightly more colored and I thought it was letting up. This is another thing it does--it'll act/feel like it's starting to let up, then flare up again. As you can imagine, this is really frustrating, to think that FINALLY I can stop worrying about it or get to sleep or whatever, only to find a short while later that no, it's not done yet. See that? It's been acting up for over two hours so far. My only luck is it's doing it while I'm sitting at home awake and not while I'm out somewhere or am on a long drive or am trying to sleep.

I think it took my mother seeing me squirming and nearly crying in discomfort while waiting to see Psychologist to finally convince her there IS an issue; she simply would not believe there was a problem, even when I showed her a half cup of clear fluid that came out of me one morning in the space of about 10-20 minutes. Even the day of the appointment she was suggesting it was just NERVES! Just nerves? If my nerves created medical issues for me then don't you think I'd have medical issues ALL THE TIME? The clincher is that I wasn't even NERVOUS that day--I'd thought maybe it wasn't acting up anymore--until it started to. Trust me. If I was a hypochondriac, if all it took was nerves to make something act up, I would have acted up a LOT more before now. As I said in my earlier entry, this is only the third time in my life where I've thought I should probably see a doctor. And it's not like it just popped up and I'm overreacting to something that might go away; I've been dealing with this over a year. I have TRIED waiting for it to go away. Now that it's messing with my sleep, I'm tired of waiting.

Even after I described to Ma how Psychologist had called in the nurse and they'd both informed me Medicaid should cover this and I should make a doctor's appointment, it still took some arguing; I think it was mainly because she had her own doctor's appointments that day, thus was already on her way to the hospital, that she finally agreed to try to get me an appointment. But it wasn't easy. She again accused me of trying to make her feel guilty and I honestly do not know why she keeps thinking that, I was just saying how she helps so many people so much that I felt bad asking for her help but I really needed it, I was not trying to guilt her at all! I'M the one who feels guilty! When I said it was almost like she did feel guilty she snapped that she did--for not having taken me to see a doctor regularly in the first place, when I was little. She honestly would feel guilty about that? That's said and done, ages ago; I've never held that against her, it's not like I ever pressed to go see a doctor when I should have, either! I told her I didn't hold that against her--that wasn't her fault--and that I did take blame for not signing up for a doctor when I first got Medicaid, that IS my fault--and said that I'm able to wait through the process, and make my own calls, I just need her to help me through it. That's all I've ever asked. For her help. I hope she understood me, at least on this one issue; I know we'll still argue over the same old things over and over and she won't understand that I just want her support in things, but I hope the message stuck for this one thing.

Turns out there was some kind of mixup and her appointments were for a day when she couldn't go in (look at that, they're as disorganized in the hospital as they are at the mental health place!), so she had to reschedule them, but while we were there we asked after getting me checked out. Psychologist had recommended some names but I remembered only one, that of a nurse; a doctor's name sounded familiar and the receptionist or whatever said she couldn't pick for us, so Ma decided on trying out the doctor. Now you see, that--helping make decisions--and emotional support are what I need. I can speak up for myself when necessary, but when it comes to decisions, I just blank out. Cripes, Dad asks me at night if I want him to close the blinds or if I want to do it myself and all I can say is I don't know! So of course, major decisions freeze me. The receptionist asked some basic questions then said the doctor would get back in touch with me to see if she'd take me in. I don't know how all it goes, nobody called me on Friday; it's likely to be a hassle, but I want to at least get the ball rolling. I'm willing to put up with this a while longer but I can't live with it forever.

The problem is, I'm probably going to get a full checkup, for everything, since nobody seems to know what this is, if it's gynecological (sic?) or a kidney issue or digestive or whatnot. (I think it's a kidney issue myself, what else makes sense?) And I've never ever had ANY sort of physical so, just because they're doctors, they'll probably insist on checking even unrelated things. And I really do not want to get into the whole "Come in for regular exams/checkups/get more exercise/don't eat that" etc. routine that they've subjected my mother to. I do not WANT regular checkups. I do not CARE if, as Psychologist said, I might be "sitting on a ticking bomb." I do not want regular mammograms and Pap smears and blood tests and colonoscopies (sic?) etc. etc. etc. like my mother has been getting since she found out her cholesterol is too high and got her artery cleared. I do not care about all of that. I realize the risks and I don't care because, at the moment, those things aren't bothering me. I just want THIS issue and THIS ONE issue resolved, that's it, no more doctor visits until they're needed. It's not as if my mother has the time to drive me to regular appointments anyway, my twice-monthly meetings with Psychologist are annoying enough for her.

This goes without mentioning the fact that, aside from my parents when I was a little kid, nobody has ever seen me naked or touched me, and I do not want anyone to. This isn't just a modesty issue. I can't properly explain it. I can only give examples. Almost every single shirt/blouse in the plus-sized women's section at Wal-Mart has a really plunging neckline so you'd either have to wear something under them (which is pointless, why wear a shirt if you need to wear another shirt?) or you'll have a huge amount of cleavage showing, your breasts are practically hanging out. I hate this fact. Not all of us want to show it off. I can't stand even the smallest amount of cleavage showing--I hate the mere fact that the arm above my elbows is visible in some of my shirts. I don't want to show off my cleavage, my upper arms, my upper legs, or even my belly or back. I want it all covered. I do not want to be seen. I do not want to be touched. It's not just modesty or shyness. I know that if/when I get examined, I'm going to be crying my eyes out, at the very least; I don't even know if I'll be able to take it. Psychologist must have picked up the merest hint of this, though even she likely doesn't know how deep it goes; she offered to do whatever she could to help, such as prescribe me a Xanax or something, should they allow it. I wish they would just give me something to completely knock me out, as for surgery, and be done with it. What I don't know can't embarrass me. Just knock me out, check me over, let me wake up again and go home. I do not want people to see me or touch me, but at least if I were unconscious, I wouldn't remember it. Unfortunately I don't think they allow such things (like they'll knock you out for a mammogram?), but they should. I don't know that I'm going to be able to handle it, but I really want this problem taken care of. It seems to be a no-win situation.

And all of that is just assuming there IS a solution. The nurse had no idea what this is, and nothing seems to explain it. I dread the thought that I'll go through all this crap, get felt up and looked at by a bunch of people, and then just be told, "Sorry, we don't know what it is" or "We know what it is, but there's no treatment, sorry." I wish I could just have them do the non-invasive tests and figure it out, and do the invasive tests only if they KNOW they'll matter. Being touched and looked at is bad enough. Being touched and looked at for no reason whatsoever is even worse. I don't want to do it, but even more I don't want to do it if I don't have to have it done.

Anyway that's what's been going on lately. I last went to the bathroom, as I described above, about 25 minutes ago--that's three hours now it's been acting up--and my bladder is full again now, so tar.

 

I just saw THREE FLYING SQUIRRELS in the feeder all at once! They all turned when I shined the flashlight on them and leapt onto the chimney and disappeared! THREE of them! A whole family of flying squirrels!

 

Yesterday a crew came and removed two of our side trees--the half-rotted-out one that's been worrying me for years (it would sway, from base to top, in the smallest breezes), and one beside it that IMO was moderately healthy but had grown in a leany way so it was over our powerlines. So now there is a huge open gap along the road and in the sky where the trees once were, and I believe only seven of the original ten (counting the one that mysteriously fell back in 2007, I believe) remain. I hate when trees have to go. I understand them taking the rotting tree--they were amazed it was even still alive, poor thing--but there was nothing seriously wrong yet with the leany-looking tree. It did have some bark going missing and some woodpecker damage so I guess it was only a matter of time, and our other trees aren't doing so well either, but I wish we could at least replace them. Dad is all for taking them ALL, even the one in our front yard (which is also in woeful shape by now), out, not seeming to realize or care how much they mean to me. I HATE being under wide open sky, in wide open spaces. I would never be able to stand such a thing. I can't understand why our trees are in such woeful shape anyway. Aside from the basswood at the corner and our maple in the concrete circle--go figure that the one tree of ours which is constrained in cement is the one that's doing so well it's long since burst the concrete open. The trees in the woods to our south seem fine compared to ours. I hate how unhealthy all ours are. I wish I could immediately plant more along the road--basswoods, perhaps, since they grow so fast and seem so sturdy, plus they regenerate themselves, or perhaps pines, since my little pine which was gnawed up by rabbits over the winter seems to be regenerating itself too--but knowing the way of things 1. Dad would disagree since he seems to think life would be a lot better with no trees around us at all and 2. I seem to kill everything I plant, except for my one scrawny pine tree, so I've resigned myself to not killing more plants if I can help it.

Yesterday my morning Internet session was periodically interrupted with hideous THUDS and THUMPS as sections of tree came down...I was constantly on edge, expecting one to take down the lines. I'm pretty sure sections of tree lowered down slammed into one of the trees still standing as it looks like there are gashes to its bark. Miraculously, it looks like the little cedar sprout at the base of one maple (right next to the rotten one that was cut down, I tried putting a plastic lid against it to protect it but the workers tossed it aside) wasn't harmed; it was ripped in half a year or so ago by rabbits or some such, but for some reason is still alive. I don't expect it to live since it isn't getting any bigger and cedars don't grow around here (I've only seen them down by the tracks where it's swampy), but it's still alive, so I keep hoping. It'd be lovely to have a cedar, a real cedar, not that lame arbor vitae bushy stuff you buy at Wal-Mart. I mean a REAL cedar like on the island. But it's not wet enough around here. And cedars are notorious for toppling over in the wind.

Not that you could tell that it's not wet from the weather. Near-constant rain and cold. This sucks. The only reason to make it through the long dreary winters is for the short but lovely warm green summers. Well, we have the green, but as for the warm and lovely, where the hell are they?? There was summer in June and now this crap. It just never ends. There will be sunshine one day but it'll be cold, then it might warm up but it's raining. And then gloomy, and then raining some more. God I'm sick of it. I never had SAD before but this summer seems to be giving me it. I want it to warm up for the last frigging month at least! If it weren't for the color of the leaves you'd think it's autumn already! Every day the weather keeps calling for it to FINALLY warm up but when the day comes, it never does. And then it rains again. Not even thunderstorms either (we haven't even had a real thunderstorm all summer!), just rain. I haven't been able to keep the windows open consistently since June. This SUCKS.

Still working on the photos; processing has halted while I upload the next batch to Flickr. Working on 2005 right now. The 2006 ones are processed, still need a bit of weeding, then on to 2007, *sigh.* I've already used up almost half of my monthly allowance at Flickr. Want to just get it over and done with. The 2005 pics have a greeny tint, ugh, but at least it isn't the reddish tint they had before. Just can't win.

WTF is wrong with the f**king comment function on photos in Windows Vista?? I add comments in the properties and it has a problem against saving changes when I edit the CAPITALIZATION, for God's sake. Saves other changes, just doesn't like me fixing capitalization. Saves changes then reverts to incorrect capitalization if that's the way the comment was originally saved. Every frigging time I find some new function in Windows that I can make use of, it gets buggy and stops working! Our search function hasn't worked right in ages--it skips files that I KNOW contain the search words in question and that I KNOW are indexed, now this. Isn't there anything anymore that just WORKS?

I've actually worked on my story for, like, maybe four or five days in a row! Maybe I'm coming to the big huge turning point where Charmian finally realizes what awful thing is needed to save the Island? *crossfingers* I've been dying to get to this plot point for ages. And scared of rushing it. See how it's on Part 201 and I'm afraid of rushing the thing. Ugh. But there is a sort of logic to it. In a story that goes so gradually (though hopefully interestingly as well), there's a constant threat of rushing a part just to get it over with or get to the good stuff, and thus it comes out all unbelievable.

Although the season hasn't started yet so who could say, I'm thinking maybe the TV show Monk might do this. This thing's been on the air for like five or six years and it's been constant OCD with this guy--he might make a tiny breakthrough here and there but so far there have been no significant changes in his behavior/personality. Now they're showing ads for the final season and they keep talking about him trying all these new things, doing all these new things he never did before what with the OCD, and I can't help but think he's going to make some sort of miraculous partial recovery (of course not total, they're not THAT stupid)--something that would have been realistic had they done it GRADUALLY, over the course of the entire series, but they didn't, he was just as OCD at the end of the last season as he was when he started out. This is one reason I stopped watching the show; Monk NEVER CHANGED. He was always really awful with the OCD and just never changed significantly enough to make a difference. In fact he just seemed to get worse--when the series started he was a believable character but then they made the OCD so horrifically bad--I mean, he was OCD about EVERYTHING, I know from having it myself that most people are OCD for only SOME things and not for others, but he's OCD for EVERYTHING--so he just became a caricature--hey look, he has OCD, so funny!--and it was not believable. I think they wrote themselves into a corner making his disorder so bad, and now they want to hurry up and make it somewhat better only in the final season when they should have been developing his character all along. It's like he's been static, static, static, now BAM, they have to hurry up and make him dynamic before the series ends. Lame. I could be wrong and perhaps the series will end with him being as messed up as ever but even that's stupid, he should have developed SOMEWHAT along the way. I rather wonder if they weren't aware the series would be ending at such a point and originally had plans to develop him more gradually and were just caught unawares, though knowing the way of things, maybe that's just a false hope of mine. Some writers really are that bad--look how they drummed up his OCD just for yuks rather than to make it an effective character-illustration device as it once was. Just my opinion.

Long story short from that is that I don't want to do the same thing myself--have all this building up, building up, building up, then hurry up and finish it off in a way that is totally unbelievable. There's little chance of this happening but it's a big worry of mine; I'd hate seeming to whip out some deus ex machina or something, God knows I did that enough in my D4D novels (see how Elise shows up in Lucifer, and Miss Clare in D4D, and July in Minot, isn't it lovely how some knowledgeable female always shows up right when the characters need it?--ugh, must fix that somehow); I don't need it in my MI stories, thankyouverymuch. Anyway, I doubt anyone was able to follow all that, so I'll leave off.

The entry gets kind of...gross right about here, and lives up to the blog's 18+ rating, so you were warned.

Yesterday I looked up yeast infection and was brought to a blog criticizing RepHresh or whatever, with scads of women adding their comments about how well or poorly it works, and I read enough about other women's coochies/hoohahs/virginas/vags/pusses/kitties/add-your-own-euphemism-here to last a lifetime. My God. It sounds like a jungle or some sort of Petri dish culture down there. I am so glad now that I don't have sex. I'm sure it's good for the people who do it and are used to it, but it just sounds so incredibly messy and inconvenient and disgusting that I doubt I'm missing anything. I know I honestly can't judge, not having experienced it myself, but it's not like I'm ever going to anyway and based on all the crap women have to go through just to keep a clean house, I'd hate going through all that or letting anything near me. Yuck. I have no plans to EVER put anything up in there--no IUDs, no suppositories, no tampons, no fingers or other devices, and I guess that includes penises. It all just sounds like a lot more trouble than it's worth. I'll stick to simply writing about sex, where it's a whole lot cleaner and more convenient than it sounds to be in reality. Honestly, if erotica scenes went the way those women described sex, there'd be nothing erotic whatsoever about them. I really thought sex was about, have sex, hopefully enjoy sex, maybe it's kind of messy but whatever, the end, but apparently it's a great huge hassle, involving lots and lots of cleaning up, that would likely gross me out more than anything. I need rubber gloves just to wash a pan, forget swapping body fluids with someone. Ick. No, I don't subscribe to the whole "OMG vaginas are bad and dirty and something to be afraid of!!" Dark Ages mindset, but MINE is, and I'd prefer to keep everything as far away from it as possible. I could rather do without it; it would save me a lot of trouble, I'm sure, if I didn't even have one, seeing as all it does is bother me every month (well, that's the uterus, but they're both useless IMO) and I'm never going to make any use of it! But I still need the hormones that come from having one (well, again, uterus, but still) and I doubt removal of the thing would be covered by Medicaid so I guess I'm stuck with it. Them. Ugh. Stupid vagina and uterus.

And no thank you, I do not need anybody stepping in and carping that how DARE I say such things about the wonderful female anatomy, as I said, I haven't a single thing against the wonderful female anatomy, I just have something against MY female anatomy. Other women's special parts might serve a great purpose, but I really have long wanted to have this stupid uterus taken out, and the vagina's not doing that much either, so I can say what I want about them. *shrug*

Yes, that was way more than anyone reading this could have possibly needed or wanted to know about me, but at least you probably found it a lot more entertaining than the stuff I usually write about.

A woodpecker was busy poking in the seed tray the other day. Weird bird. The squirrels and birds and chipmunks seem rather put off by the tree removal but will likely get back to normal soon enough.

Anyway, I can't think of anything else though I'm sure I'm forgetting something; it must be nothing special. Tar for now...