None

my upper thighs ache and burn since i dropped the ninja again over the weekend. i was going to ride and then ended up locking myself out of my apartment. i had no keys for apartment or car, just ninja. i managed to get a ride to where i keep the ninja by a friend but had to walk to her house and got lost. eventually i made it but then my ride was not so pleasant. i was determined to not be discouraged.

for months i have been studying for the next technical certification in my career queue. i failed the first time and have been determined to pass. for the past two weekends and three weeks i have spent most of my spare time studying for this exam. today i not only failed but scored worse than the last one. as i was walking out of the testing center, the desk-lady informed me that they should stop offerring those exams since there is a global failure rate of about 82%. she was right and now i have to take three others to just get this one.

something else bad happened but i can't write about it here as it might impact the divorce proceedings which i have yet to get a consult for because i can't afford it due to the recent thousands i've spent on medical bills that resulted not in a fix but just more pills.

tonight my bed broke. yeah, the new one ... the place where i go to rest at night ...

i'm told that i really need this three-day holiday weekend. i dread it so much that i taste vomit in the back of my throat as it is a glaring reminder of my aloneness ... my sense of nothingness ... the worst might be that i don't even care anymore about how pathetic i sound ... i need someone to take care of the cats

Tripping The Bell Curve

Dr. M. : y....r. .eu..k..y.....s .s .e..gn
me: ...
Dr. M. : .ou. leu...o...y... i. b.ni..
me: ... .... (dumbfounded because no) ...
Dr. M. : hello?
Dr. I said -- your leukocytosis is benign
me: ... how? ...
Dr. M. : Well, you see, what is normal for most is not normal for all.
me: ... (i am n o t normal ... nothing new there ...)
Dr. M. : You see, you fall outside the bell-curve. It is ok.
me: ... ( ... i definitely fell ... )
Dr. M. : Do you understand? (rambles on) Are you having any other problems?
me: ... I am still having trouble with the oversensitivity to most anything ... and ... it causes ... difficulties ... ( ... i overdosed last night ... )
Dr. M. : Yes, some people are like that. For example, people here in the mid-west who do not tolerate a specific cancer drug that is very much used around the world but cannot be used here so much that a study was done that showed the people in this area cannot tolerate it on the whole. Oh, it has nothing to do with in-breeding though people here tend to marry others in their region and such but it is just what has been studied.
me: ... (in-breeding ... whaaaat? ... i missed something) ...
Dr. M. : So, what will happen is you will need to get the white cell count checked at least once a year so we can make sure nothing sneaks up on us, ok?
me: ... but ... i wanted ... was hoping ... oh nothing, thanks ...

None

last night my blood pressure crashed down to 90/60. it was disappointing because i had a good day on the ninja watching the swell of trees and hills surround me with wonder and hope. but with pain in my chest i later vomited and went to bed sure that the end was near so it is hard to believe that i woke up this morning. god, i was hoping otherwise and do not understand how i continue to breathe each day.

the doctor called and said she has no answer. i can have the disabling tachycardia or i can have the low blood pressure, falling around, depressed, and doped. thank you for the choice. i am amazed at my choices. again, thank you.

in fact thank you to all of you unknown forces - you have given me such wonderful choices in my life. i am sorry that i must have made the wrong choices somewhere because look at the pile of crap i've landed in and i know they were wrong but i don't know what i could have done different. you dirty fuckers who kept my body alive so long ago when i tried to let it go when all you had to offer was the latest drug and a trip home to more rape and violence when you could have just fixed the problem then by taking those bastards to jail but that would have been too hard being the pillars in the community that they are and the nobody that i am.

i realize that i am not special and i do not have any right to bury myself in self-loathing when so many others fight hard to make it through but ... i have no but ... i have no more arguments.

The Bills Come Rollin' In But ...

... instead of being from the heart hospital as the shot above depics, they are from an intensive psycho-therapeutic outpatient program which included regular doses of B-12 shots. By God, I must have been in alcohol rehabilitation the whole time! It's all been a delirium?!? If Blue Cross / Blue Shield says so, then it must indeed be so! I guess now I am just hungover ...

Atonement For Nothing

Happiness is not real. Happiness is a concept invented by a desparate five-year-old with a wish of non-stop milk and cookies ... a scenario of neverending bliss and warmth that only occurs in a Leave It To Beaver episode.

It was not not the bubbly cheerleader stomping on the sidelines with a pearl smile and shiny blonde hair. She was fake and existed only in the etched memories of bystanders.

Perhaps it is a like a moment during a vicious war when a soldier takes a second to smell the honeysuckle of a new fresh summer though too soon has to turn around to the char.

Though fleeting, it may be best to accept the real neverending story ... the one of the ordinary ... the daily ... the mending ... the broken ...

A Towel Of Fond Sudsy Memories

As I was semi-snoozing by the pool over the weekend, a man caught my eye when he pulled out a lounger and began to prepare for his sunning. He was shaking out a huge red, white, and blue beach towel which was designed to replicate a can of Budweiser. Immediately, I began to get all sentimental and sad.

In case you don't know, St. Louis is world headquarters and home to Anheuser-Busch brewing company - number one in the world. Last week it was announced that foreign company InBev has elicited a hostile takeover of our American brew. Since then St. Louis has been in chaos as protesters march downtown and flock to http://www.saveab.com/ in hopes of signing a petition that will probably go nowhere.

After reading the New York Times article today depicting the debacles of August Busch IV, CEO, I was almost amongst a few of my peers who conclude that the spoiled good-ole-boys-club member should go down in flames but then ... I thought of the towel.

Though AB products are not amongst my favorite suds, they do hold a special place in my heart. Amongst all St. Louis iconery, they are second only to the Arch and impose a great camaraderie amongst the locals that would be sorely missed. Many of my favorite St. Louis experiences surround AB:

1. Catching wind of the enticing sweet smell of yeast and hops brewing as I cruise down I-55.
2. Watching the Cardinals hit homers at Busch Stadium.
3. Working for AB Information Technology to monitor brewery software.
4. Participating in AB charity fundraisers.
5. Then, my fave: Grant's Farm. Yeah, it's a tiny little theme park but I would greatly miss my regular pilgrimages to ride the tram as it gets stuck in animal "traffic." Then, getting my shoelaces chewed on by the goats as I sip on the free Amber-Bock. Later, I always complain that the exotic animals should be sent back home but then I drink some more brew and am content. I was there last Christmas for the special pageants and then again last month for a university scholarship fundraiser.

I suppose the brewery would continue on but it wouldn't be the same and all theme parks would be sold. If I was responsible for an empire that had taken generations to build, then I would have assured that nothing like this would even be possible. I do know that if the takeover succeeds then I vow, like the rest, to never drink another AB / InBev-related product. Yeah, that won't be too much of a change for me but ... that towel ... :o(

etarelotni

Cardiologist: "This medicine is the only effective drug for her condition. She cannot have good mental health if she has a cardiovascular event. Give her an anti-depressant that she can tolerate better."

Psychiatrist: "She cannot tolerate other anti-depressants. What is the good of treating her heart condition with a drug if it causes her to have no will to live and no quality of life? Give her another heart drug that she can tolerate better."

Internist: "She is intolerant to all medications and chemicals. Let's take out her blood instead."

Hematologist: "Interesting blood. Let's run allot of tests on it. She can tolerate that."

Psychotherapist: "It's simply intolerable to undo all the progress I have made with her over the past decade because of you pill-pushers who can't get your acts together."

Me: "Why am I so intolerant?"

they beta blocked my brain

... so that now nothing works right ...

well, except my heart works better ... but i am more broken or am i?

Not Quite So Easy or Something Unknown Is In Charge

Since my earliest suicide attempt in fifth grade, I've had countless arguments with death.

I've tried to think back at what was going through my head at such a young age that would lead me to think death would be the answer and the only thing I can conclude is that my interpretation had been that death was the way to make pain stop -- the only escape.

Children do not generally really understand death but despite my growing in age and knowledge, I have to admit that my death belief has remained unchanged since those early years. The only thing that has changed is my wondering about what will happen to me after I die and even that had not stopped me from trying. The only thing that has stopped me is my utter failure at such attempts and the trouble it gets me into.

Oddly enough, I do not know of anyone (personally) who has actually succeeded at suicide but I cannot begin to count how many people I DO know who have attempted and failed. When I worked in social services, I had clients who had shot themselves in the head, doused themselves with gas and lit a match, electrocuted themselves, etc, but yet they STILL survived. The whole idea that it is a "choice" is greatly questionable.

Since becoming ill, I had been contemplating that I could finally be coming close to the opportunity of a fatal disease. At first, I was relieved but as the weeks have passed I have become very confused and have not known what I want. Being in and out of the hospital, going to the cancer center, physically suffering and feeling sick all the time, missing out on the few things I enjoy -- all these things that I would think would make me want death even more were actually confusing me.

Don't worry, I have not become a lover of life who will now blog in a Pollyanna-like-fashion, but earlier this evening I was discussing this with someone and it was inferred that perhaps my view of death itself is changing. Even if I were to get a fatal diagnosis, it would probably NOT be that with a prognosis of a few weeks but instead I would suffer long and hard.

Though it happens to people every day and some within a matter of unexpected seconds, it is apparently very very hard to die quickly for the majority of people. Many of those patients at the cancer center had been suffering for many many years. I had always said that I do not fear death from riding the Ninja but I DO fear suffering for the rest of my life from a severe injury.

Bottom line at this time is that it appears that there is no "BANG - here's your diagnosis and ticket to an ever-lasting vacation." It just doesn't seem to exist and I don't know how I -- Ms Professional Smart-Ass - would have ever believed such a thing in the first place ... except that I was only in fifth grade ... and apparently never grew up in some areas ... but that's another blog entirely. I'm probably going to be the oldest person to ever have lived.

That Crazy Lady on the Street? Yeah - That's Me ...

The plan for the day was to get some stuff done in the apartment and then head out somewhere to study for another M$ exam. Nothing was working right so I decided to head to the pool to clear my head and take a break with the assumption that I was too stressed and needed some air, exercise, and distraction.

After about an hour at the pool, the screeching noise of some kid started to grate on my nerves in such an overwhelming out-of-proportion level that I had to immediately leave the pool and head back home.

Back at the apartment, I could hear my neighbor begin to vacuum. Honestly, it sounded like a freight train -- to my ears only I am sure.

Off to the library I went with the assurance that I would have no noise and could concentrate on this bastard test. It may be helpful to mention that these tests tend to cause some sort of psychiatric panic crisis in me just to think about it so it is very crucial that I be gentle and try to accommodate my anxiety and plan for any stress surrounding the studying for this monster.

The library was fresh and cool so I headed up to the top level that is reserved for quite study only. Once settled down and logged in, I can hear people chattering, kids giggling, pens dropping, and books thumping. By now my heart is pounding in panic that I will not be able to pass this test (there are negative consequences for not passing this test.) After pounding baroque music through my ear-buds, the situation does not improve and I relocate myself to one of the special noise-proof chamber rooms surrounded by Plexiglas or something.

In less that five minutes into my timed practice exam, I can hear a kid two chambers over tossing himself against the glass as his adult-person glazed into a monitor oblivious to this kid's behavior. So that is it -- the point of complete unfraying -- the point where all was lost.

I packed up my belongings, exited the chamber and announced to the whole floor, complete with mild profanities and such, regarding the importance of quiet libraries. I then proceeded to pound my flip-flops down the spiral-tiled staircase continuing to yell something the effect of "HOW'S THIS FOR QUIET?! CAN YOU HEAR THIS?! WELL HOW ABOUT..." etc.

I somehow made it out the building without the security guards assistance but an enormous guttural agonizing sound began to escape from the depths of parts unknown. Once I made it home, I had to put ear-plugs into my ears and crawl under sheets to drown out each and every noise that I could feel penetrating into my skull. It was as if my nerves had been completely ripped open and any self-control was long gone.

Then, as strangely as it came upon me, I practically passed out into a sleep as if someone had shot me up with ativan.

That I've been assured that the latest behavioral outburst of the day is medication-induced is of little consolation. Especially since it wasn't that long ago that I made similar profane announcements in a department store and then threw a vacuum cleaner in another.

I do not take illegal drugs, just the one's prescribed to me. This is what I get. I'm at a loss.

Chronic Leukocytosis and the Quandary of Self-Ruination

So it was another tough week. I managed to put in fifty hours at work only to still desperately NOT keep up with my work while spending six extra business hours running around satisfying medical requests for my bodily fluids and such.

It was my first visit to a cancer center and I guess I expected patients as miserable as myself but was surprised as they all chatted with each other and went merrily around with their bald heads, caps, and wigs. I'd always known that potentially terminal patients tend to draw from a strength that most of us, incorrectly, do not believe is inside ourselves.

I've been in bad situations where a bizarre well of bravery spewed open leaving me to handle the storm admirably well only to crash afterwards into a sopping blubbering mess.

I do not even have a cancer diagnosis but when I went downstairs for my labs I began to cry uncontrollably as I waited for more blood to be sucked from my body. My thought was: "Are these people really optimistic or have they reached the point where they realize that they may have an opportunity to escape this misery?" Which would / do I want? Right now I'm too tired to care.

Nocturnal Chatterings #18

--so here we are again ....

+ yep ...

--i was thinking about what that lady said to me today about how i need to know what i want in life.

+ oh?

--i've always had a goal. always. first, they were scholastic-related. second, they were job-related. then i decided that i want more of a life outside of these things.

+ like what?

--well ... to have fun ... motorcycle ... travel ... a home with people ... that last one is a kicker since i've never lived in the same house with people and enjoyed it ... what would it be like to be around people during the evenings or have a place to go to hang out with them and feel comfortable and not stupid ...

--i thought i could get close enough to the first few ... with a decent salary then why could i not?

+ well, you've been sick ...

--yeah but it's more than that, right? i don't even want to sleep at night anymore - i just want to WANT to sleep ... for the most part i had not been ABLE to sleep ...

+ maybe you're just skewed right now from the drugs.

+ ... OR ... maybe you need to make a decision

--like what?

+ like whether or not you even want to live a life or not ... you have been hoping for, like, to have a myeloproliferative lukemia ... hellooooo?? ... then you wonder how and when you would tell people if you were dying or if you would fight the lukemia or let it take it's toll ... next thing you're contemplating whether or not to take the cats with you should you die ...

--what if i can't decide?

+ then you are looking at your life now as it is ... but you will decide one way or the other, you always do ... there are also some things that you HAVE to let go of if you are to move on with anything ever ... the living in limbo is bad ... it's not the first time you've cared for others more than your own well-being but this time it's really kicking you in the ass ... or heart ... or kidneys ... or spleen ... or

--stop, i get the point.

+ do you?

--no, not really. not enough to move on anything.

+ well, perhaps this current state of crappness is a continual kick in the ass ... how much damage will you let it do?

--i guess that goes back to the original question of do i really want to live. i think i have tried but never known living and so i don't have a clue to it's worth. everyone else seems damn damn miserable.

Today I Went In to Work To Find:

• that half our staff is under one company name the other with a different company name.
• that I have not been paid and was supposed to have been paid last week so I have no money.
• that the company is yet again in health-care negotiations. wasn't this decided already?
• that one of our two best developers is leaving (unless he can strangle more money from the big guy).
• that I still don't know how to do my job.
• that there were injuries last week due to an electronic fly-swatter experiment.

why am I not too stressed about it? because I am tired.

why don't I leave? because I am tired and there is less political crap here.