Pie-Bolar Served w/ 3 Flavors of Anksia Tea

My Blog Post from Monday Sept. 11 2006, as part of the 2996 Bloggers Project

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 20:13:00 +0000

9/11 2,996 Bloggers Tribute - Gricelda E. James

I am still glad that it was Gricelda's name that was given to me to remember. This felt like what I should do today, and I hope her family is doing well.

The link takes you to the blog post where I post about what I found about her and my feelings and remembering her as best as I, a stranger to her but finding we had more in common than I'd know at first, could.

You're Gonna Miss This - by Trace Adkins

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 01:46:00 +0000

Will it be Ms. Police Spud or will Clone Spud Win the Day, er, book?

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 11:30:00 +0000

Lest you think I've gone completely loony, in his July 8th post the author of this book mentions an ongoing photographic thing where people take pics of his books in nutty or odd locations, and link them in to him and he'll post them up. I thought I'd have a bit of Spud Fun in a battle to the last Fry . . . . Mrs. Police Spud Vs. Slightly Vampiric Clone Trooper Spud. I just couldn't resist the green ears . . . .

Potatoes, to your corners, and may the best spud win!!! Personally, I think the laser potato masher is just too good for anything Police Spud has got, but then she's got that nifty toolbelt, and HANDcuffs, and heck, a siren nose. Who hasn't been swept away by the siren song . . . . wait, a potato spud? Heh.

To be continued . . . . . . . .

Peach Crisp & Garden Fish Packet Recipes

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 23:18:00 +0000

I made this Peach Crisp Recipe a few nights ago, when we had my parents up for dinner; actually, we had them up firstly to pick our daughter up from school, in case the procedure I was having at the hospital went overtime - it was scheduled for 2:30 and we SHOULD have been able to make it to pick her up on time if everything went on time, but . . . since when does everything run on time, lol?

I already knew I was making the Peach Crisp, as my visiting teacher had brought us some of the harvest from her peach tree; these peaches were so succulent eaten out of hand, I had a hard time not eating up the wedges as I prepared them for the crisp, except on the last few peaches that were the least pristine and the most ripe or overripe, and had some slices that were just too soft for cooking and had to be "sacrificed" for the greater good . . . . . heh.

Mmmmmmmmmm.

Oh, I made one end nutless for my father, as needed, and I also used pecans, which we had on hand, instead of the almonds, which we didn't. I HIGHLY recommend this recipe!!!

I am so grateful my parents were there for us to come up from a ways away to do this for us. They were waiting inside with her when we got home, reading and such, and we settled on, for dinner, making Garden Fish Packets, which I've made before and are DELICIOUS.

A great thing about this one, besides being brain food (the fish) is customizing the packet to a person's tastes. For one person who doesn't like pepper, we left off the lemon-pepper seasoning. For another, who doesn't like mozzarella (except, of course, on PIZZA!!!), we left that out of that packet. AND, the clean-up is easy!

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Taking My Meds on Schedule is Often a Problem . . . .

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 09:11:00 +0000

My whole life, schedules and I just have not gotten along.

Oil and water, we are. The ADD would be a factor in that, among other things.

The very word, schedule, is anathema to me.

BUT, as my psychologist says, studies have shown that schedules are a very helpful element for those who are bipolar, as well as some of the other conditions I have.

ARRRRrrgghh.

As well, medications, taken in a timely and regular manner, work best that way . . . . . . . .

Anyhow, this leads me to a resource that I am going to try. I just printed out a checklist for myself that I will put in two key places.

I saw an ad for the web site, MyMedSchedule.com, in a Better Homes and Gardens magazine ad that my husband handed to me to point out some yummy spaghetti recipesto peruse whilst waiting for my hip shot with fluoroscopy the other day at the hospital. I took mental note of the site, as I mention above and in the post title that this has been a PROBLEM for me in many ways (the taking of a variety of meds and supplements on time, refilling, sometimes "stretching" a med for a couple days or a week [okay, so until we just recently met our deductible, that last was more often for financial reasons than organizational ones, since the deed that pushed us home to the $5000 mark was $400 or so of Cymbalta, OUCH!])

I don't mind showing what medications I'm currently on. Well, there's others in my bag, depending. And I don't take the Xanax very often; it's under-utilized, because I panic and I forget about it, which of course defeats the purpose, lol. There's more to the service than this checklist; there's a notes field where you put in more personalized info about the prescription, and on several I noted the fact that having to take them with food is why I am not as consistent with them, such as the naproxen, the glucosamine condroitin supplement, etc. I note other things too, but I don't see the need to bore you with all those details at the moment.

This is a quick and easy check-off, which is EXACTLY what I need. One will be sticking out from under my keyboard, the other in my face on the side of the craft desk next to my side of the bed where I wake up. There's options to print wallet size and other versions as well. There's also general information on taking the meds provided by the system like take the topiramate with plenty of water, etc. but it also you have to check off on the terms of service that you know that this is not a medical or pharmacy service and won't hold em liable, but i did like t he general info that it had that it did know which ones to be taken w/food, which ones had a few other things about them, etc.

The only med of mine I put in that wasn't in there was Vyvanse, but that is by far the newest of the medications. This quick and easy check off is JUST WHAT I NEED.

It's not the whole enchilada, by any means, but it may prove a helpful part of the puzzle of helping me solve my taking my meds better problem.

It also was a wake-up call when filling out a form at the hospital hip shot w/contrast the other day that I couldn't remember the dosages on at least half my meds . . . . . so a wallet-size printout, put through my Xyron machine w/a laminate cartridge in (at least until the next med change, and then I'll print up another and do it again), will be helpful for such things.

Let me know if any of you find it helpful, or what you think!

Stuff And Nonsense and No Ooompa Looompah's. Damn It!

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 22:05:00 +0000

I bought a towel today, only because my husband saw it and noted the three smiling dolphins; normally a $20 beach towel, it was on clearance for $6.00. As I am always feeling less than adequately covered by the size of the usual towel, it wasn't a hard decision to grab these smiling faces.

At the moment they are camouflaging the over-the-door shoe holder that is on the back of our front door; I put it over it on a whim, and it almost perfectly covers it. Our living room has ocean, dolphin, and lighthouse-themed items decorating it (well, that's the intended theme, although you'll find Neopets that each of us own, a miniature Star Wars fleet of my husband's, and a MESS of papers; I'm SO bad with papers!) It's a temporary whim, as beach-towel decor is probably not very . . . haute? or whatever the term is. Still, it's near me at my computer desk, and they cheer me up quite nicely, which is quite a thing, these days, and that's no small thing.

I've also recently wiped the C: drive and reinstalled Windows and such, and have not finished reinstalling all my programs; I know there's web apps for fixing graphics, but I just wanted to quickly load it in from the scanner, so crooked is how it remains for now! My computer is still misbehaving though; slowly devolving into a calculator, as I put it.

On another note, today I told my therapist, "Damn you."

Why did I say that, you might ask? Well, I said after a pause, "I come in here all seeing no reason to be or anything, and you somehow find a way to have me all talking about the future again and stuff . . . . . you get to me and help me, darn you!"

We had a good laugh together, because by the end of that, that's how it was. At the beginning of it, it seriously was a reflection on how I had started out the appointment, but was at the 2/3 point through it, and realized the shift, and was like HEY how did this happen???!!!??

Sort of, but really! But not, but it's not like I'm saying therapy is devious, or that the therapist is devious; it's not and he's not. It's just that my mood the last session and this one, well, it's been difficult, to say the least. And then all of a sudden, from my lips sprung, "Damn you, you helped me!!!!" kind of thing, if you know what I mean, kind of!!! Sort of like, despite my less rational self's efforts, the mania I've been having and just things being so fear-filled and other things, that somehow my more rational self was brought out through it, and worked throughout the pain, and the grey, and the pall, and the ineffableness of it all.

It's really hard to explain, especially since I'm not the swearing sort, at least not conversationally. If I stub my toe or bang my leg on the stupid corner of the foot of the bed for the umpteenth time, that's something different (although perhaps a goal to be worked on at some point; I will strive not to judge myself right now because I have other things on my plate at present of higher priority to myself.)

Things have been really, really, REALLY difficult inside, and I can use your thoughts and prayers, or whatever your form of well-wishing may be. I'd surely appreciate it at this time.

Thank you!

These made me giggle today

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 04:21:00 +0000

And I sure needed a giggle. Click title to see.

So. My knees have to go, and my hip pain has nothing to do with the arthritis, which in one way is good, as I was expecting to hear that I'd need a replacement there, too.

But, it's no fun being built like a set of Tinkertoys put together wrong . . . . my hips are rotated backways or back, retro-something from how they should be, which they tell me will cause BAD "stuff" down the line.

Aside from the "stuff" I'm currently experiencing, which doesn't qualify as good, either.

The top of the femur, the ball part that goes in the socket? Well both the left and the right have been grinding in the sockets in a way that has caused excess rounding of the ball joint, of the top of the femur bone, both left leg and right leg, although worse on the right.

In fact, I wasn't experiencing this acute pain I've been having recently in the right leg until about 5 or 6 days after the hip appointment with the hip doctor at the same practice as my knee doctor had already been made; then, one day, it all of a sudden felt as if my right leg came out of its' hip socket (not that it can just DO that, I later learned, but that is what it felt and still feels like, some days). Sensations of wierd sorts at times going all up and down the leg, from the hip that, until now, I had thought of as my GOOD hip, the left hip having bothered me ever since my pregnancy with my daughter way back when.

But, as the arthritis has taught me, things can change in an instant. This spring has sure been a time of physical surprises, of the unpleasant kind, and change. I feel like an old woman, physically.

We'll see, though. I need to make the hospital appointment the hip doctor says I need for a shot in the right hip. Then, I need to make an appointment several weeks later at the specific facility he wants (he says it's on my insurance) as they do the best job for my particular problem (what problem would that be? he wants to see into my sockets, as he suspects something, when I off-handedly had mentioned I had had casts on my feet as a baby . . . .) for an MRI artheroscopy or some such, on both my hips I believe, so he can see in the hip sockets, and see stuff that x-rays just can't show.

So I may have something MORE going on, I certainly hope not, but I've been strangely hesitant these last two weeks, since the hip doc appointment, to make these further appointments . . . . I can kinda understand why I'm scared of the MRI, for one I've never had one, and for another, I think I've had so many surprises of unpleasant news already that I'm struggling with, and practically nowhere to turn for emotional support. One person strongly implied that anything less than a hip replacement was not worth fussing over, and seriously, come on, I'm 37 and a half, GEEZ!!!! Talk about a lack of empathy and a serious absence of compassion!

I'm struggling just to keep my head above water and not drown. Whether people understand that or not.

My mother has said they'll be there for me no matter what I need, and that made me feel really good, although they are much farther away than in-laws. There will still be natural hesitation on my part though for some things as they are a bit away, but it is sad that I've had to beg for aid when I was quite distressed last year, from those who are only 15 to 20 minutes away, instead of more than an hour. I appreciate that they eventually came, but I will NEVER beg again.

EVER. And it has killed me that I had to. I have cried so many nights, that I, me, had to beg, when I don't think certain others of their kids would have had to.

There, it's out there in the open now, perhaps not in a face to face or phonecall discussion; pitiable though it may be that I put it out there via my blog, but since it seems it just won't stay down no matter how hard I try to bury it, and accept that some people just are the way they are, which is something that does feel like I can learn to accept, although it hurts . . . . .

THIS makes me want an I-Phone.

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Fri, 08 May 2009 07:46:00 +0000

Sorry, honey. I feel like a traitor! Heh.

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Late Birthday Presents Pour Moi, Unwanted

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 08:34:00 +0000

Arthritis.

Arthritis = Suckage.

Yup. Yes, I state the obvious.

I suppose one could move to a different state if the obvious is a bit annoying.

The rest of you could perhaps forgive me for being a bit cranky; the . . . broad effect of the arthritis resulting from what I knew would hurt a little but had no idea would cause so much, over such a myriad number of joints, bones, my body, etc. . . . .something that is a normal part of living . . . . . it was such a simple thing, too.

And for it to result in what I felt yesterday and today, and continue to feel as Sunday begins now . . . . Just it is a shock of a psychological kind, at the sheer breadth and depth of the pain and debilitation, at this stage anyway. It wasn't excruciating, and I COULD get out of bed at the worst of it, although I CAN say that one wouldn't want to, because added up altogether it really just was more than unpleasant, which is what I would call the pain individually in any one joint or area. Also, the psychological shock of it also played it's part as well, and I'm still . . . . dealing with that.

This is also affected by another unpleasant suprise the arthritis recently dealt me a couple weeks ago, out of the blue . . . .

I am just startled, VERY, by the . . . seeming ferocity of it . . . . . see, there, it's like I want to . . . . give it some kind of animal or human emotion or something, so I can fight it, I guess . . . . . but this . . . this, it's genetic. It gives me no terms, gives no ground, no quarter. It just . . . . is. It does what it does. It always was going to tear me apart.

I am a bit alarmed by the level I'm feeling lately in these incidents, as well as for what this latest may MEAN for me in terms of functioning physically within the next say two years down the road, but perhaps that's the alarmist/anxiety disorder in me . . . .

Anyway, saying hi as well.

Hi.

Oh, we also received a quick lesson in breaking and entering the other night. Geez, if you knew how easy it was . . . . Anyway, went down to Wal-mart, got a tool or two, and got into our mal-functioning doorknob apartment (with the landlord's permission to break the doorknob - he gave us the B&E lessons over the phone, it was rather late at night - knob is nice and fixed now, but I still feel slightly criminal lol).

I just love an odd juxtaposition . . .

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 10:46:00 +0000

Clink would like this, I think, for a shrink, though, as I think, it's got not a think to do, with being a shrink, but somehow, I think, this is just the kind of think that'd catch her eye, anyway (I thunk).

I dunno, Dinah, am I right? Or Roy? If you are reading here, that is.

What do you other pro's think, Deb, Dr. A? Heh . . . .

Embroidered MRI knee image "slice"

I've found a pattern for an embroidered brain (nothing this detailed), and I've seen a knit brain supposedly done anatomically correct by some neoro-something or others or some medical types who also like to knit and then put the . . . things up in an online gallery but I still haven't seen a knit brain pattern for a more regular knitter. There's anatomically correct hearts, and other things, and organs I'd rather not, er, ahem, I'll not discuss those, but, there's plenty of discussable ones.

No, I'm not obsessed with knit brains, although a t-shirt I've seen that says "I've got knit for brains" in a well the sheep's wool looks very shaped like a brain, or something, or maybe it's in someone's head, I don't know - it just strikes me as funny. I suppose I'm a knit-wit . . .

heee . . . . . .

You can needle me all you want, I embroider and cross-stitch too . . . pointedly . . . .

Crochet is also welcome - there's a broken bones "scarf" (well, the bones are three dimensional so it's hard to call it a scarf) that I've oft thought would be fun for a doc to wear on Halloween . . . . . . speaking of body parts. I've also seen the crocheted green Frankensteinian finger to hold a lip balm stick to attach to one's keyring . . . . heh.

Parts is parts . . . I surely did not intend to wind up here . . . . how did I get here, again? *waves one lonely disembodied crocheted green finger around . . . . . .*

Hee heee heeeee . . . .

Hey Doc, Over Here, You Know, the Patient, Remember Me?

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 00:22:00 +0000

Recently I posted this in a comment on a post at the Shrink Rap blog:

a way to drive ME crazy: keep rambling on about Pristiq (a "newer" form of Effexor XR kind of, for those who don't know, that cuts one of the two substances (venflafaxine / desvenlafaxine, one being part of breaking down Effexor XR in your body, but they both do the same thing, really) out of the picture, when I've been telling you for a year that I think the anti-depressant isn't working . . . . . Effexor XR, btw . .

I swear, he's driving me crazy. I point blank asked him this last time, um, if the XR isn't working for me, then what good would Pristiq do . . .. and he answered, "none, then . . ." or something like that, and moved on. Lol.

Well . . . . Today, as we walk into the psychiatrist's office, the Wyeth drug rep was there (I believe they're the maker of Effexor and, thus also, the newer Pristiq, correct me if I'm wrong); he'd just walked in the door 20 seconds ahead of us.

My husband and I took a seat and I listened to an enlightening, interesting, and somewhat dismaying conversation, that also helped later inform me as I tried to understand why my psychiatrist was behaving the way he was.

The two of them discussed an event that apparently had been held the previous week I believe, that sounded like a dinner, dinner party, fete, something-or-other, with some Pristiq education question-and-answer at least available for the docs attending (and who knows, perhaps there was more education there on the med, but, what my doc said was, "and I like to ask questions about the medication too" when the rep had thanked him for attending and discussed the dinner event a little . . . . I don't know if he said that because he had me, as a patient, sitting there, to make it "look better", but . . . that's how it came off, to me . . . that's why I assume there was at least some question-and-answer education available, though).

There was some wierd discussion on the rep's part about not just any old person being chosen but somebody real, and my doc replied with thanks, and s'more stuff about that . . . . then it was sample time, as it usually gets down to with drug reps and it was all Pristiq samples, which disgusted me because Wyeth's patent on Effexor XR isn't up for another THREE years, and as expensive as the medicine is, they need to keep supporting it with samples . . . . but they aren't. OH, there was a bit of talk about a card program to help make the prescriptions more affordable on the Pristiq, etc., and then the rep left.

Now, I know drug reps and all the sorts of . . . well, what might seem like . . . or in some cases . . . BE . . . ethically problematic . . . . marketing techniques they use on docs, is part of the territory of being a physician. Of any kind, I suppose . . . . but I was a bit disturbed just hearing he'd been to a, well, "Pristiq Party" . . . lol. Since I suspect it was more for his . . . entertainment, than education, but also to keep putting the pressure on to prescribe it. Also, to switch Effexor people over to it.

Still, I didn't think a WHOLE ton of it as I go into my appointment, because as I said in my comment up above, we'd discussed it AGAIN at my last appointment and I was like, um, helloooo? Anyone in there, doc? NOT gonna fly, lol, if the Effexor isn't, or does your medical degree give you some magical power that I don't know about . . . . (ok, so this was more my attitude than spoken, what was said is in the comment, but hey, the internal stuff is kinda funny, heh).

After the initial stuff, we finally get down to the discussion about seriously changing my anti-depressant. He suggests . . . wait for it . . . . .

PRISTIQ.

ARRRRRRRGGGGHHHH.

I sat there for a minute, speechless, taken aback, dumbfounded, flabbergasted . . . you name it. I had said, RIGHT before this suggestion of his, that I felt it would be of no use at all. After less than a minute, but then, surprisingly (guess therapy is working, woohoo!) I speak the words I need to speak, they somehow come to me, and I am surprised that they do, but they are the right ones!

I do not feel I am being heard.

I spoke up for me, and the therapeutic relationship. I didn't think about these words, they just came, and I spoke them as they came. He looked a bit startled himself upon hearing them, and he reconnected with me visually, and, I suspect, replayed what I had recently said to him, and we reconnected and proceeded to discuss options, costs, etcetera. We had had occasion to discuss cost earlier in the appointment, given that I had recently discovered that my mood stabilizer is an astronomical $600 a month!!!!!!

He cautioned me that Cymbalta, another anti-depressant that also acts on the same two things (serotonin and, what is it, norepinephrin? correct me if I'm wrong, I always forget the 2nd one . . .) that Effexor XR and such do (whereas Prozac and the like only act on serotonin, as an example) is not an inexpensive medicine either (hopefully not in the range of my mood stabilizer, but understandable if it's roughly in the range of the Effexor XR which was $226, hoping for even less of course but *sigh* these things are pricey . . . . . . .

That last paragraph sucks for parentheticals and construction but, oh well, no matter how I reconstruct it, it gets the point across, I hope. I'd already slowly reduced my Effexor dose down, to a lower dose, because I was between a rock and a hard place; now I've got his written instructions on starting Cymbalta and slowly lowering the Effexor, slowly raising the Cymbalta . . . . . at various intervals.

Today was the first day. Here goes nothing. Sorry for all the pharma mumbo-jumbo, for those not into that.

I'm suspecting that once my psychiatrist gets a certain number of patients to switch to Pristiq, or on it new, he'll get to go on a trip or something, or some other perk or whatever is allowed; not sure how these things are regulated. Kinda sours my mouth but at least I know what's up with THAT, anyway.

Brings to mind scenes from the Harrison Ford version of the movie, The Fugitive . . . . . eeee.

Almost 37-year streak of no accidental broken bones, broken . . .

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 02:02:00 +0000

And you KNOW if I'm gonna do something, it's gotta be in a funky way.

Foot vs. Toolbox, Toolbox wins. Dec. 26, 2008, so at least it was before we ticked back over to having to pay out of pocket again for awhile . . . .

I saw the whole thing in slow-mo. If you're squeamish, don't read further.

I kept thinking, "It's just a TOE, it's not like they can do much ANYWAY . . . ." so I elevated it and such and stayed in bed except for necessities. The next day though, 24 hours later, hubby at work, it just became clear, even tho it's just a toe, I reluctantly decided I'd better go in, because, as I say, when it happened, I saw it in slow-mo, and it kept replaying . . . . like this:

I was rushing out of the bedroom to answer the phone or something, and the front right third corner and side of my right foot bashed into the Red Handy Toolbox of Doom. It caught on the second to smallest toe, snapping it 90 degrees to the left of the rest of the toes and foot, or maybe 100 degrees, and then as I guess the muscles, tendons, ligaments, whatever helped try to spring it back, the bashing was still in progress and the toe did crumpled as it was coming back to a normal orientation and folded completely under my foot.

Still, I kept telling myself it's just a toe . . . and besides, one bashes toes all the time, so after the initial injury I elevated and gave it some time, to see how it'd feel later. Although later I gently probed the base, because in my head, after what I saw, I knew I had snapped the toe "off" at the base, and "things" moved there. Ewwww. In a way far distant in my head it was fascinating; it was also shocking, as well as a . . . . novel experience . . . . I suppose you could say. I believe I was in shock, "just a toe, or no". I was freaked, and dared not "gently" probe further up the toe at all, although I suspected a further break, farther up, given the replay I kept seeing in my head.

See, I'm not this obsessed with my toe. What I AM worried about, and WAS worried about, was the bother to others, over "just a toe", and of course people say, and did, well there's not much they can really do for a broken toe anyway, they just splint it to a neighbor toe, etc.

I "had" to "explain" to such people, that this was a . . . . funky kind of break . . . . at least, I THOUGHT it was, myself anyway. I mean, who snaps their toe like that 90 degrees or more to one side? Let alone the rest of it, not that I was seeking more attention, or justification really, but . . . . since I DO have anxiety disorders, I didn't want my getting treated for my toe, seeking treatment for it, and worrying about it, to be seen as just part of my mental illnesses, I guess. I didn't want to be dismissed . . .

Also, I'd never broken a bone before; well, as I say in the title, never ACCIDENTALLY. I've had jaw surgery, after some years of braces, with the surgery as the purposeful end point of those braces (at least, with the final orthodontist who knew what he was doing, anyway, he took a look and KNEW my jaws were WAY well I'll show some sketches, and pics, some other time. 9 out of 10 on difficulty scale, the surgery was . . .). They had to break both jaws for that.

So, not having broken anything before, I was also very unsure that way too. Especially with the "everyone knows it's 'just a toe' factor". That's kinda how it is in society, about broken toes anyway.

Then, I felt guilty that I hadn't decided earlier in the day when my husband had been home, but I wasn't as sure then . . . . I mean, sometimes it takes time to, inside . . . come to the decision that you need to see the doc for something, you know? But the fact that I had to bother someone, even now that brings me almost to tears . . . I guess I'm afraid of being judged.

Maybe the most, by myself. Secondly, by the person who helped me . . . thirdly, by my husband . . . . . Fourthly . . . . . I don't know . . . .

They x-ray'ed it and told me it was broken; oh, I also got the hippie woman doc at the Instacare, the lady I HATE, but oh well . . . . I hadn't seen her there in awhile, and had hoped she was gone . . . . she had thought something had fallen on the foot, and late in the appointment she told me that, and I told her some of what happened but she didn't seem to give me much time to say, and didn't seem to listen much and I felt it important that the HOW of the injury was important . . . . I mean, the toe snapping to the left like that was much different than something dropping on it and having a crush-type injury, I thought.

They gently splinted/wrapped it to the third from the smallest toe, and "gave" as they put it (ha, lol) me a special shoe (had to size me up to a men's medium, my toes hung slightly over the biggest woman's size they had; my arch length is long. It's a bit wide, even when velcro'd tight, but with thick wool socks on it works nicely, and those socks work nicely when out in the elements.

I'm supposed to wear the special shoe for a month. About 12 days post-injury the splint slipped off, partly because of the work around shower earlier in the day I guess and other things, and I hadn't noticed, and the injury became aggravated, and later in the day all of a sudden, BAM I feel the worst pain I've ever felt in my LIFE, including childbirth, all the back spasms I had in the couple years after that, and stuff . . . . . this pain felt . . . . the only word I could think to describe it was . . . . METALLIC. NOT like there was metal in there, or metal on metal, or metal on bone, or like i was feeling bones or anything, but the pain was INCREDIBLE and TERRIFIC (in the bad sense of the word), and it was METALLIC. I've never felt pain with that aspect or descriptor or quality to it before . . . . My husband when he got home from work gently re-splinted my toes (thank goodness for a first aid kit stocked w/medical tape and such) and, for this night, I put the shoe on to wear in bed; usually I took it off for bed. I didn't sleep though. Not possible.

Anyway, if you've endured this post, Hallelujah. Oh, and I'm feeling much better, been GINGERLY SLIGHTLY waving that area around a bit the list 6 days as I could feel things getting tight, and I know that's not good. Not tight anymore. Connection of the toe to the, what is it the metatarsal bone the toe connects to? feels weak, but it's there . . . . afraid that my being "careful" with the foot in coming months may get more "it's just a toe" stuff from people", but like when I folded my one foot completely under and in half, under itself, with some force, and severely injured it and that one ankle, it was QUITE some time before it ever felt close to being itself again.

I need to quit worrying what other people think . . . . but hey, that's one of the reasons I'm in therapy. Rofl. Anxiety Disorders Suck. Agoraphobia Sucks. Panic Disorder Sucks. Can I just say that right now, k? Maybe I'll go beat on a pillow, or bash some MOBS (that's the enemies, animals, etc.) in a computer game, or something . . . .

I joke that the toolbox is really one of those MOBS, one of those games has what's called a Strongbox Deceiver. Looks like a Chest, or a Footlocker, until you try to open it . . . . then BAM it attacks you, heh. So that's some of humor I've used in this situation . . . .

Sorry for the graphic play by play on the injury, and the extensive post. As you can see, though, I showed how my mental health issues affected the situation, somewhat. Besides, this blog is also about my life, besides trying to show what life is like and hopefully foster greater understanding of issues involving mental health, mental illness, and such, by doing so about my own life.

So it's not all Mental Health stuff, all the time.

Fun Linky, for you Linux geeks, especially if you have a crafter relative or craft yourselves: Free-Penguin.org Because, you know, this quote just pulled me in:

"The starting point of this project was the question: "Why is it that on the one hand in the Linux® world all code of software is freely available and on the other hand the code to compile a soft toy penguin is still not open source?"

No One Cares if You Upset A Droid

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 02:03:00 +0000

I hope this worked, not sure how to embed a youtube video . . . . and many of you many have seen this . . . . . but just made me laugh when I sorely needed one . . . . . SO hilarious, and a nice reminder of many of John Williams' movie tunes, with a unifying theme of Star Wars lyrics . . . . . This guy(s) is talented . . ..

Happy Holidays

Still here.

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 23:24:00 +0000

See my husband's comment on the previous post.

My nephew did well with his surgery, and is doing well now.

I apologize for taking so long to update on him, and for any extra worry about him, or me, for the long break.

I thank those who inquired about me; it means alot to me that you care, and it pained me that I didn't reply back. It still does.

It also pains me that my perceptions of the three writers behind Shrink Rap, whom I think of as casual blogfriends after several years of banter back and forth at their blog, seem to have not seen nor understood when I posted in their comments that I was . . . . coming to a conclusion that they thought I was too . . . . nuts or too . . . well that that they judged me too . . . SOMETHING . . . to associate with. I was hurt, deeply by that, and guess that a couple years of interacting back and forth (as blog people, not as professionals on anyone's part in ANY way), perhaps meant less to them than it did to myself, and that hurt. I attempted to resolve what might have been a misunderstanding on my part, as best I could, by approaching the subject as . . . . strongly as I could, which may not have been strong enough, but . . . . there were other things I was also going through as well. They also might be the way I was perceiving them to be because I was, well, swinging wildly for awhile there and said something inappropriate on one of their birthdays . . . . I don't know if it's because of that or not. See how I try to justify it though? I did apologize, although it's been deleted now. That, and other comments, as I go back and try to delete my presence there out of embarrassment, since I don't know how to handle the unknown.

Besides, rejection and I are, er, well, we don't get along so well, lol, ha! Actually, it's more because the last two years have felt like a series of betrayals, both by people and now by my body at its most basic, fundamental level, the genetic level, so, that is another factor, too. That's alot to load on to an internet relationship that's just a casual blog thing anyway. Then again, alot of my relationships tend to be loaded these days, but like I say, the last several years have been/or have felt like a series of betrayals . . . . .

There have been some pretty "big" things happen to support that, some of which neither of my families have any idea about. Life hurts, that's the way it goes. Yeah, I can accept that, because I must.

Then there's my hurt over this blog, and my feeling that it can never be my own place ever again, that it can't be what I set out for it to be, and that's been another reason, a BIG one, for the long break. It's been a big hurt, too.

I can't be myself with either my family of birth, or the family I married into. That may hurt both of them, but that's a fact. I have to protect my insides or I'll fall to pieces and never get up again . . . . because it hurts too much, even when I AM protecting myself. Even when I open up a LITTLE, and protect the rest, it still hurts really bad. I don't know why either. That's just how I am. I dunno if I should even say this paragraph, but . . . it's a big reason why I've been gone, and not blogged. It's a blunt, and sharp, at the same time, truth. And perhaps more open about me than I want them to know . . . . but . . . . if one really looked at me, if one really tried to get to know me, you'd see that I was afraid anyway.

Judgement and Blame and Hurt. Perhaps there will be, perhaps there won't be. I don't know.

There's also a reckless part of me that says WAY more than I should even to people I don't trust, or let me say, to people I'm wary of with my emotions. That last would definitely apply to family, because there's so many emotions involved - it's one reason I keep closed up, because I must, or my level of functionality would go down . . . . sincerity is important, though, even if this last seems like a HUGE non sequitur.

There ya go.

A big, mixed up ball of Sara-ness. Have a nice day.

Prayers For My Baby Nephew

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 08:11:00 +0000

He's having open heart surgery this week, that they try to wait until the baby is a year old for, but in this case he several months shy of that age. My thoughts and prayers and love and concern and heart and soul go out to my brother and sister and their two boys, especially at this time.

If you are reading this, I have not gotten through to you by phone yet, and know that all three of us are praying for you, your family, and especially your baby in the care of the doctors at the hospital. My daughter has repeatedly expressed her love and concern, although I suspect the last thing you are doing right now, this week, is reading blogs. Still, since I haven't been able to get ahold of you, I am sending this message out there, as well as asking my readers, if there be any, for their prayers.

I know I've been gone lately, as I've been . . . . . (queue tears) . . . . having a soul-wrenching struggle with this . . . . life-sentence of a grim, imprisoning, ever-MORE crippling and increasingly painful, surprisingly aggressive, THING that is such a simple sounding word as . . . arthritis. Or osteoarthritis. Caused by bad genetics. Most people's bodies, well, they're designed to age normally, you grow up, grow old, yes, you wear out, etcetera, but . . . mine is designed to tear up the cartilage on its own, early, quickly (as these things go, I speak in terms of 10-15 years, 10-20, in terms of becoming rather crippled and pain-ridden, and as the doctor said, more body parts WILL go, will have been replaced by then, when I was asking about how aggressive this thing was, and generally what might I expect in a 10-15 year time frame . . . .) . . . . and, as well, the cartilage is peeling itself away from the sides of my bones, and I feel as though I am literally being flayed alive, from the inside out.

THAT is what my body is designed to do, by my "bad genetics". And is what it will continue to do, and there is no super glue to make the cartilage want to stick back to the bone. They showed me a picture from the arthroscopy, that looked up the femur, that showed it peeling away from the femur already . . . .

I am literally FALLING APART.

My life has changed in a much bigger way than I thought when I first heard the word arthritis and the words bad genetics.

Anyway, I didn't mean to post so much about THAT. I've fallen into a DEEP, DEEEEP depression, the likes of which is . . . . different. It's a shock of a kind that I've not ever had, and on top of everything else . . . .

I had a thought, gee, if I were making up a will, the part where it says, of sound mind and body, I don't think I qualify for either . . . . .

. . . . and I don't know whether to laugh or cry . . . . . . . .

But, I am not the only one in the world with problems. I have not read my email in quite a while, nor anything else . . . . I could not pass by without requesting prayers on my nephew's behalf - I firmly believe in the power of prayer.

I also believe there are trials one is to face in life, and I do not know if I am strong enough to face what it seems I am going to have to face. It's not like I have a choice . . . . it's been in me since before anyone ever knew. Betrayed by my own flesh and blood, my own matter, my own genes, substance, the stuff that makes me up. Ugh.

Gah. To sleep, it's late.

Hello Mellow

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Sat, 10 May 2008 00:40:00 +0000

Maybe all those years of Barry Manilow have finally sunk in?

If I was in an online game right now, I'd do /giggle self . . . . .

I do seem to have been a bit med-focused lately, but it's been sort of our own little medical ward here lately it has felt like.

Like a medical tv show, only more boring.

The panic attack was triggered by a question regarding any conditions I or husband (dd's father) may have, at the end of the Instacare appointment (she was throwing up as he entered the room, thus the history occuring at the end). By this time I had repeated dd's bronchitis story 3+ times in less than an hour so I started mechanically listing stuff off, "Oh geez, let's see - bipolar, OCD, agoraphobia, panic disorder . .. . . " yada yada, more stuff, and then I got to the knee and mentioned that, and the recent arhtroscopy, and the diagnosis, that was said to be because of genetics, and extremely bad, unpredictable, extremely early osteoarthritis, etc.

Anyway, that's pretty much about the gist, maybe not the exact words, but basically what I said, and the quantity thereof, but when I got to the knee part I just started crying; not SOBBING, just tears started rolling as I kept talking, and I became emotional - I was embarrased about that, but kept going with trying to answer his question as briefly as I felt I could. I was pretty brief! And you know how I can go on.

I get overwhelmed easily, though - listing off all my conditions like that, especially after explaining what had been going on with my daughter over, and over, and over . . . . and then at the end, not being able to control my emotion (the doctor was very kind, he was standing actually near me, I was sitting, obviously it's not been a month yet since surgery, although it's getting there) and he put his hand on my shoulder in empathy and understanding - I believe he could tell I was embarrassed about my tears, as well as that obviously I had just seen the results of a difficult diagnosis, seen inside my knee, and all that.

So, he finishes up with a cheery statement about, "But, your daughter is going to be just fine, so that's GREAT!", and gives me an encouraging (but non-patronizing) smile, tells us we're done, can go, reiterates some instructions, and then is gone.

We're quickly back out in the waiting area, waiting for our ride home, and it's been 5 mins or less since the emotions came out, and I have the panic attack. I feel like an idiot about the whole interaction there, at the end of the appointment. Or I felt like it, anyway, to a large degree (I've since discussed it in therapy, as well as having applied some techniques at the time and afterwards to try to counter and cope with the attack, etc.)

All you would have seen is a mother and daughter, the daughter having fun looking at fish, and a stressed out, tired and perhaps pained-looking mom, with tears rolling down her cheeks. Perhaps looking tense or really tense, I am unsure exactly of quite how I looked, but I do know that I was able to "contain the damage", or keep the attack from escalating, in one area, by telling myself that really all I looked like was someone sitting there silently crying.

I just hate that it makes no sense.

Panic attacks, or the "little" "things" one panics over. I'm not a robot tho, nor am I an entirely emotional being, without logic or/nor intellect. Sometimes the conflict between the two can lead to a panic attack. The problem(s) with balance(ing)(es) can and do often lead to panic attack(s) as well.

Balance. Something I've never, ever, EVER been good at.

Guess this post doesn't sound mellow!

I did want to fulfill my promise to talk about the panic attack, though!

I'm si5tting here, with the door open, soaking up the late aftenoon sun, enjoying the day, and just FEELING it, and feeling mellow.

I also had a really good therapy session earlier today. I postponed the appointment from earlier this week due to my daughter's illness. She was asleep with a 104 fever and had recently had medicine to bring it down, and I wasn't going to wake her up to drag her out so's hubby could drop me off for therapy. So I called and canceled, apologizing with a short explanation and asking for a reschedule. Sometimes as a parent you have those choices. Plus I don't have a driver's license, and even if you ignored that, I recently had surgery, so driving wouldn't be a good idea, especially with a stick shift.

Anyway, think of the Sheryl Crow song, "I'm Gonna Soak Up Some Sun" or whatever it's called, and that's what I'm doing, and mellowing out. Oh, and listening to all the hoopla over the American Idol top three finalist, Archuletta (I always mix up his first name w/someone else's) being HERE, in Salt Lake City, today. The kid can sing, that's for sure.

Gonna go read a magazine outside in the sunshine! See ya'll!

Um, Okay . . . . . Minor Rant (with a Side Dish of Panic Attack)

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Thu, 08 May 2008 00:31:00 +0000

PA's (Physician's Assistant's) have their place in the medical system, but it has long become too prominent, in some ways, in the, or at least my, GP's practice, anyway. He's booked out farther than she is, so she sees the more immediate problems, such as will see you the next morning for the UTI, or whatever . . . .

It is coming to the point where one only sees their family doctor at their annual physical, and that is . . . not conducive to a good therapeutic relationship, which is essential for a good GP/patient relationship, for good communication, trust, etcetera.

Also, I believe it can lead to unnecessary medical expense or protracted diagnostic processes, which sounds so cold and clinical, especially given the reality of the mother's concern and fears as my daughter's fever has spiked to 102 and 104 multiple times, for both temperatures, despite the second round of stronger antibiotics.

I think, now, that the first round of antibiotics was issued, because of the lung sounds in one lung, of fluid, that could lead to pneumonia, and they were a preventative measure.

I believe this now, because the (searching for the right word here - ruggedly handsome doesn't quite fit, he's a bit too lean, he's not scraggly either, nice salt and pepper neatly trimmed beard, handsome, not craggy, not Grey's Anatomy McSteamy or McDreamy but those gals would definitely not turn this doc away . . . hrm) doctor of course said that bronchitis is a virus, and so there's no reason for antibiotics. He said to stop them immediately.

It also didn't help that she was throwing up as he was first entering the room . . . . . nor did it help that the prescription on this stronger antibiotic was written in a way that I did not know that it was augmentin - I'm familiar with the side effects of that, but nowhere did it say that, it was named something else. I think they should list the common names of a med on a prescription printout thingie when the pharmacy gives that thing printed out with the info anyway . . . . Augmentin tends to add to nausea, as does the Children's Motrin we'd been giving her to control the fever. He said Tylenol.

I feel kind of caught between a bunch of conflicting doctor opinions, except all the preceding ones were really from a PA (physician's assistant). Although, again, I believe I understand the reasoning behind the initial antibiotic prescription - with fluid in the one lung, preventing pneumonia (that one IS treated with antibiotics, am I correct? and so antibiotics would prevent it from taking hold, if it had started to , or something? which I am wondering, especially since her cough and condition improved by about 40% on that first antibiotic . . . .) . . . . . . . I'm all for stopping pneumonia in it's tracks, although of course I'm her mother and so I'm biased. I also understand the concern about over-prescribing antibiotics. It's just, it's hard to remember which things are viruses, which are germ-based, etc. and so you go along with whatever the medical person says.

I feel like, when the 2nd visit to the PA was made on this case, that the practice's M.D. should have been consulted, even after the appointment was over, just to oversee and give us a call about it. Because at some point in a case like this, I think the doctor himself should have a hand in it, and not just leave it all to the PA, and I think that at this point is where this PA system can prolong stuff as I mentioned above, and stuff. Lead to more expense (expensive medicine), needless suffering on my daughter's part (medicine that adds to the nausea, especially unnecessary medicine), etc.

Although diagnostics is not an exact science, etc. I just feel this whole PA thing needs more oversight, in ongoing cases, and in some other way there's got to be something done so that it doesn't come to a point where I'm only seeing my GP at the annual physical . . . . .

I guess I'll get to the side dish of panic attack later, or tomorrow. It was at the Instacare, as a reaction to something late in the appointment, and it happened back in the lobby . . . .

Eeek!

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Wed, 07 May 2008 21:40:00 +0000

Given the temperatures my daughter's fever has been spiking to these last couple of days, despite the 2nd round of stronger antibiotics, I called the doc, and his whoever is taking his calls called in with the advice to get her in to the Instacare by tonight. Her cough is less frequent, although not much less intense (the first round of antibiotics did decrease the intensity more). It's kind of hard to tell, it's kind of subjective, since I'm not the one coughing.

Although actually, now I am. I've stopped the exerbycling about 5 days ago, a couple days before I'd heard the advice for us to send a note to school (we and doc had thought her fever would go away pretty quickly with this second round of antibiotics, and so when it did she'd be okay medically to go to school) saying that she was not to run as long as she had the cough. I'm glad I had stopped the exerbycling, I do not want to put stress on my lungs if it is going to exacerbate something that is going to need its own care to resolve. I'm walking around more, among other things, to make sure I get the movement and such that my knee needs to heal well and not feel "sticky" or such. It worries me ALOT when my knee feels that way, as it sometimes does after sleeping all night.

Fevers of 104, 102, etc., cool baths, what have you, Children's Motrin, of course, to manage the fever, movies to manage the boredom and misery, etc . . .

A visiting teacher & friend will be dropping us off and picking us up from the Instacare - I'm so glad I had someone to call I could get ahold of!!!

Short update, & Bronchitis Bites

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Tue, 06 May 2008 08:22:00 +0000

I'm physically healing; the other impacts of what I learned and saw from what they showed and did inside my knee and even showed upwards along the femur some. I'm definitely not happy about what that showed either.

Anyway . . . . . there is SO much going on inside me about this . . . . it's all mixed up, sometimes there's moments or days of clarity . . . .

I'll talk about that more sometime.

I've been getting some time in on the exerbycle, as I call it.

Roughly every 3 days or so, sometimes every other day but more lik eevery 3 days, because generally one of the other two days I'll get quite enough activity that it'll wear me out, at least as far as how much I've done or been doing on the knee. The farther out from the procedure I get, the less I'll feel so that way, in fact, every day is more and more, but there's always that reminder when I say use my leg/knee/foot to sweep something aside in a sideways and then circular motion, woops, yeah, THAT hurts.

Or some other thing. Like getting up or down. Well, if it's from the low love seat, or the low cheapie porcelain throne, if you get my drift. It's too low for comfort, even without a knee thing anyway.

I'm proud of myself for the bike thing!

Anyway, quick update, would type more, daughter was diagnosed w/bronchitis a week ago, and apparently the first round of antibiotics didn't clear it up. Poor thing came home from school early with a moderately high fever and throwing up, and a bad cough (though not as bad as before the first round of antibiotics began). Apparently my knee surgery claims have not all been processed yet (not surprised, it takes time), because we've had to pay out of pocket for all the meds for the bronchitis, and it's been over $100 (of course, worth of it for my daughter's health, of course!!!!). Also, the tax return is for the medical stuff before the deductible is reached, which the surgery will more than reach it. So I'll have to pay part of the surgical cost, the rest will be insurance and most everything the rest of the year will be 100% insurance, meds included, whew.

Anyway, it's been one thing after another, this year. Right on top of a mixed in with and just all tumbled in a big mess together and stuff. Here's hoping and praying that my daughter recovers quickly and well.

Is there a House (M.D.) in the Anesthesiologist?

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Sat, 26 Apr 2008 22:51:00 +0000

Yes indeedy.

At my post-op appointment a week after surgery with my orthopaedic surgeon, his first question was "Did you have any problems with the staff?".

I do not know if this is a routine question, but I thought it curious of him to ask that right off the bat . . . . it just so happened that I had had a problem, as several readers may know who attended a Dr. Anonymous BlogTalkRadio Show a few days after my surgery. There's a chat room there associated with the show, and the listeners chat amongst each other as the show goes on, sometimes about things unrelated to the show and of course quite often and most likely about things mentioned in, related to, and/or regarding the show or it's topics, and/or Dr. Anonymous or his guest(s)/caller(s).

Anyway, regarding the Anesthesiologist referred to in the title, and that I had a problem with when I responded to my surgeon's question above, here's what happened that bothered me.

I had been prepped for surgery, and the anesthesiologist came in to the prep area and started his part of things, and started asking questions, his first being, "Did you take your meds this morning?" I responded, "Yes", and he replied with something like, "Good girl. Even the psych meds?" I said, "Yes." He replied, "Good! That's so I can stand to be around you!".

Now, I understand that this MAY have been in jest; earlier, my surgeon had been in, and I had declared my nervousness - he had said, "The good news is, I'm not!" - This made me smile as well as helped relieve my nervousness too! Some joking around and such can be helpful to relieve anxiety and such, and so perhaps the anesthesiologist was just trying to be funny, part of me can see that, and can see that perhaps he just ended up being "funny" in a way that, in the very least, is insensitive, if not outright offensive, judgmental, prejudicial, crass, boorish, cruel, arrogant, and narcissistic, among other things.

The thing is, he repeated that last offensive sentence or its equivalent one more time a few minutes later, and perhaps one more time, before leaving the prep area. I feebly joked about my sleep-punching, I suppose in a passive-aggressive way of trying to sort of "defend" myself from this horrid attack upon myself that I felt. Of course, this man was going to be in charge of me whilst I was under anesthesia, of which I was very aware, so I just did not say much of anything, or tell him what I thought of what he had said to me or of his manner (he seemed to act rather brash, arrogant, and narcissistically with and to the nurses, orderly-types, and other operating-type assistants moving about the prep and operating areas and corriders as well, so while I tried to think the best of him and think it was just an insensitive stumble of a joke, his manner and the repetition of it kind of led me to think otherwise . . .. .)

The man's grandiose manner possibly did not leave room for any awareness on his part that he had caused any offense at all - that possibility I was also aware of. That is okay. Should I have further procedures requiring anesthesia there, I will request, if it is possible to do so beforehand, a different anesthesiologist.

It occurs to me also, though, on the one hand, the most important quality in an anesthesiologist is, well, how good is he or she at anesthesiology? Doesn't matter if his or her personality is as narcisisstic as Narcissus himself (of mythology), or as bland as plain white rice . . . . can they do the job WELL, do they know the unusual rare things that can happen and what to do if so (no one knows everything but to a reasonable degree), do they handle themselves expertly under pressure and emergency, do they handle themselves well with colleagues in the operating environment (which IS where personality would play a role, in a manner, but other people have to obey him, so his arrogance fits there, I suppose . . . . I dunno) . ..

Then again, since I watch the television medical drama House from time to time (not because some of the dreadful things he says are acceptable - the opposite, in fact, is the case - twas unusual from my Mormon perspective to see him have a "go" at a Mormon character - there aren't too many of those on TV, I suspect it was because of the Presidential race - he used comments as unacceptable as those he's used with his Jewish associate(s) or underlings . . . . in a way, he treated them the same across the board, but none of the despicable comments and treatment were acceptable. I think this show tries to SHOW that, in his extreme behavior. I enjoy the medical mysteries, though.

In my answer to my orthopaedic surgeon regarding any problem(s) I'd had with any staff member(s), I replied in the affirmative, he inquired as to who, I replied with the anesthesiologist's name (he did not look surprised), he asked why (although seemed to know before I said anything that it was going to be that the guy was a jerk) and I explained. My phrasing of what the anesthesiologist said is a bit off - it was actually WORSE than what I put above, but as time goes on, I just can't remember - things that send me into a shock of some kind, emotionally at the time, I have a hard time remembering later. I believe PeggiKaye or someone else from Dr. A's show from that week might remember better than I, at this point. I was still in shock, at that point.

I'll update on knee later, let me just say an ultrasound on lower left leg for DVT (blood clot) suspected, turned out negative for any, YAY!!!!

p.s. I could go another decade w/out typing anesthesiologist that's a long word lol w. lots of vowels s's etc. lol. Please chime in with what you think about this.

Just a Quackie

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 22:31:00 +0000

I don't want the kind of hits I'd get if I titled the post something else, so I borrowed Shrink Rap's duck for a few. I don't think they mind . . .

Anyway, perhaps more later, if I haven't lost MY mind first.

Tomorrow's schedule is looking a bit nuts.

8:00 am - psychologist (technically today he is still on vacation, but given the circumstances, he called me back and even would have seen me today but our answering machine light didn't show the new msg so by the time I got his later call it was too late to be seen today - because of extenuating circumstances he was more than willing to get me in as soon as we could. Weds. I'd be groggy and less than 24 hrs since surgery, probably too soon, because here's the next part of the schedule -

8:50-9:00 Finish appt. (Sometimes he gives the extra time, highly likely this time given situation.)

9-10 am run a few last minute errands perhaps, drop state taxes off in the mail (that I'm finishing up in a few minutes from now {today/Monday}, although of course I'll be e-filing the federal}, because I've been afraid to address the stupid out of the normal back pay SSI stuff, broken down into three separate years which I finally have the information regarding the individual amounts by year, received recently.

11:30 - Show up to Ortho Surgical Center (Hopefully be in surgery by 12:30? Not sure how long before I am?)

Not sure what happens next, besides the pain part.

Weds. my parents are up to help, as my hubby has to work. Tues my MIL is there waiting with my hubby as they operate, also one of the two can get dd from school . . . . . Yay for family!!!!

Thursday I have a psychiatrist appointment. That's gonna be fun. More pain. In the knee, I mean, if I wasn't clear.

Lots of appointments! And lots of stuff all at once. I may have more later, maybe.

Making lots o'calls today. Besides thank goodness for family, thank goodness for an empathetic psychologist, who is willing to work with me in an unusual situation at the end of his vacation to get me seen, especially with a lot of potentials for panic attacks ramping up that I've been fighting (have some things/strategies and plans in place and activities and other stuff I might talk about later today, or some other time, about what I have thought through and planned to help fight that panic as I sit there at the clinic, waiting, etc., . . . . hopefully these helps will be helpful!!!!)

TTFN, Perhaps Later.

If I don't "see" you guys again though until after my knee thing, wish me luck (yeah, it's only an arthroscopy, but to me I have this maze of fears and all sorts of things I have to fight and plan out and fight and figure out if I can handle and stuff . . . it's not JUST a routine thing, for me . . . . it's a whole host of a bunch of things I have to deal with, for me. A whole bunch of battles, that I have to face and fight and march through, and fight, and and and etc.

See ya!

Pressure and I, Well, We're Like Matter & AntiMatter . . . .

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 02:44:00 +0000

Put me together with alot of pressure and something is gonna explode, some way, somewhere. I'm not saying that in a way of, oh, it's just gonna happen, I can't help it, but in a, I've fought my whole life, and I REALLY FIGHT HARD when I'm under pressure, but hell when everything's falling to pieces um I'm kinda doing alot trying to grab hold of things already starting to shoot off in different directions already . . . . . dunno if I can keep the lid on, guess we'll see.

Anyway, more tomorrow.

You may not know, but I have an arthroscopy on Tuesday. Not sure what time yet, he does his shoulders (as they put it) first, I'll find out tomorrow what time, and tomorrow we'll work thru about specifics on which of my meds to maybe take and not take (cause, um one of my morning meds is a stimulant, that's not so good for general anesthesia, I'd bet . . . . lol).

Arthroscopy may not sound like much to many of you, but it's alot to me, especially considering what the likely next step will be, etc, although I'm not sure as to the timeline of that "next" step.

Anyway, more tomorrow, lots to do.

LOTS of pressure. lots and lots and lots and lots and lots. I don't do pressure. I try with all my being. EVERY time. Despite the I don't do pressure thing, I still throw mywhole self at it, because that's what I do, and still I . . . well that leads nowhere good, so I'll stop. For now. Psychologically, I'm not in a good place, and I haven't seen the psychologist last week, he was on vacation, and the week before that I hadn't been scheduled for this surgery yet, and now it's scheduled right for when we'd usually meet . . . . so that's all screwed up too . . . (he's very understanding tho, I've left him a message.)

Hopefully I can see him later in the week; I already have a psychiatrist appt. for two days after surgery, that I had long before I knew I'd be having outpatient surgery. The ortho people said it's fine to go out and stuff by then so that's good (except the pain part.)

Ok, ramble over, see ya tomorrow. I'm having a tough time, think, pray, whatever of, about me, whatever, cross fingers, k? I'd appreciate it.

p.s. my word verify is poovil(dh) ha

An Approximation of What My Psychiatrist Looks Like

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Thu, 03 Apr 2008 02:34:00 +0000

Mr. & Mrs. Pump
Originally uploaded by David Clow - Maryland

I was browsing through Flickr one day, when I happened upon this fine photo of some "dressed up" gasoline pumps.

Amusing, colorful, bright, and fun, I thought, for such usually mundane objects.

I do not mean any of this to imply that my psychiatrist is gassy, nor full of hot air, although he does tend to go on and on . . . .but that isn't why this photo reminded me of him.

The more prominent gasoline pump, the masculine one, if you will - the one on the left, in the foreground - a closer representation of my psychiatrist in gas station pumpery I daresay you will never find.

Save for the fact that this particular pump is represented in what appears to be a, perhaps, 70's style "leisure suit", which my psychiatrist has not been seen to wear in my presence (I do not think any clothing that even involves the word "suit" has passed his way in quite some time, but then again, I only see him at his office, so how do I know!), it represents him rather well . . . . .

He's kinda hippie-ish, although he doesn't exactly dress like a hippie. His hair kinda fits that, hippie-ish thing, though.

Anyway, if you wanted to know what my psychiatrist looks like, there you go.

Some Lawyers Really SUCK (Sorry Stephen!), and SS Disability Stuff

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 21:40:00 +0000

So, today I finally get around to doing something I've been procrastinating - calling my "good 'ole" disability lawyer's office.

Why, you may be thinking, would I need to call them?

Well, as I've been working on my taxes (this is the latest by far, for as long as I can remember, that we've done our taxes - we usually do them in late January or the first few days of February!

The awarding of SSI, including back pay covering the years 2003 through 2006 (since the regular monthly payments started at the beginning of last year) being paid in two different lump sum installments last year kind of complicates our taxes a bit. I had thought perhaps Social Security would send us some kind of a statement, like my parents get, but they didn't.

So, I thought to call the disability lawyer's office, figuring that if they didn't know how much of the back pay was for each of the "back" years, then they could at least direct me to the appropriate person or sub-department at the local level Social Security offices that they deal with all the time, that have the people who handle the cases like mine on an ongoing basis who could help me with this information.

Apparently, about a month after the Judge made his decision, there was a mailing that was very detailed (yep, aLOT of legalese, and I DID read through it, although I had to take breaks every half-page or so, despite it's being double-spaced, or my head would have exploded, lol!). I knew it was, and would be, VERY important for me to understand what was being said, and what it would mean for me, and what it MEANT.

I do not recall any list or break-down of how the back-pay sum(s) (there were two, one to be paid very early in 2007, the other, later in the year) were made up of the SSI they owed me and were now paying me, from '03, '04, '05, and '06. I did not see any amounts shown by year, like that - just the two back-pay amount installments that were to be paid at two different points in 2007, covering the SSI payments from 2003 through 2006.

Now, reporting these amounts broken out by year shouldn't affect my old taxes, because there's a threshold at which the SSI doesn't get taxed at all, and I'm pretty well certain that it's such a pitiful amount, especially with our very low income, that there's no way it'd be taxed. Then again, when you get into the years when we started getting the EIC . . . who knows. I DO know though, that STILL there is that THRESHOLD that must be gone over first before the social security starts getting taxed, at anywhere from 20% of the amount of it being able to be taxed, to up to 80% of it being able to be taxed.

Anyway, that's a side trip that's not really the point at the moment.

The point is, I called the disability lawyer's office. Over the course of time, especially in the last 6-8 months, I've come to the conclusion that I was not competent to make the decision that I was asked to make at the hearing, that I was under alot of pressure to make, and, (pardon the language here mom, but it fits) as a quote from a movie that fits particularly well here, for anyone who's seen "How to Lose a Man in 10 Days", I Call Bullshit when he says there was no pressure from him. Oh HELL yeah there was, it may have been couched in legalese and with disclaimers of we can go forward and make appeals and of course I am at your service and we don't have to give up your right to appeal and yada yada xyz, (of course, I do understand it's his job to lay things out, and lay things out like, as things stand, with what the judge is saying and has just said, and what the expert has said and has decided, and what they said just now, the only way you will get any money right now would be SSI only, and that only, would be if you give up your right to any appeal, etc. I do understand he had to lay that out, it's his job. There's other stuff about how he was, and crap, that I believe was pressuring. Besides, he's got incentive to be; he doesn't get paid unless we win some sort of monetary award.)

Anyway, I made an OFFHAND remark about how I didn't feel like I was competent to have made that decision and HOO BOY does he go into CYA mode, and BAM the . . .what's the word (major aphasia problems the last few days, as my in-laws and hubby can attest), the word for that ironwork gate that can slam down in the front archway of a castle after you've come over the drawbridge that can be raised and lowered? Ugh, see how long it took to type that, and I STILL can't come up with the word!!!!

Oh, man, does he get so aggress and just start ATTACKING me like I'm some hostile witness on the stand, on Law and Order or something . . . I felt like I was pinned under a fusillade of arrows (see, I can come up with a word like fusillade!!! woot!!!)

I'm still very emotional about it, and crying now . . . geez. He was all like, no one adjudicated you incompentent to make that decision, I didn't adjudicate you incompentent to blah blah whatever . . . . (and I was sitting here stunned, on the other end of the phone . . . . there'd never been any question as to my compentence about going to the hearing or anything . . . of course, I've always known I don't do well under pressure, but this decision, that he asked the judge permission for to take us aside, outside of the formal hearing room for . . . . it was one of those do or die moments, it was one of those . . . um, DAMN HIGH PRESSURE things . . . There was ALOT of pressure, I reiterated to this LAWYER.

Anyway, eventually I said, look. I'm sitting here in alot of pain (because I was, and I am, my knees are killing me, they've almost collapsed under me in non-painful moments recently), there's been several deaths in the family, I've had a new, far-reaching unpleasant diagnosis, I'm NOT mad at you, in fact I think of you fondly (I don't know if that last one is a lie; sometimes my me-ness retreats into the back of my head and I'm not there anymore and the rest of me operates on automatic because I can't cope, I just can't . . .ok, here I go again, tearing up . . . damnit . . .) I just had to get him to stop. I also pictured him working up some paperwork JIC (just in case I should ever decide to sue him for malpractice or something, you could tell he was thinkin it, he was certainly attacking me!!! geez.)

Anyway, I then gave him a compliment of some sort, I can't remember what it was, but all of a sudden he went from this . . . picture a hairy bear of a monster, teeth and claws and impossibly wide tall open devouring mouth like a cavern open to devour and then transformed into a pleasant human being, southern gentleman charm, slight accent and all, like a switch had been flipped; the geniality, the friendliness and cordiality, . . . . . this, too, was jarring and creepy in it's own way, as to how suddenly it was there, although it was soothing as well and I think I kinda unretreated from the back of my head a bit (not sure that's the best description, but then again since I wasn't all there (um, that could probably lead to some jokes, lol) I'm not exactly sure how to describe it anyway.

Part of me understands, that since lawyers are trained in legal stuff, they naturally think defensively, but STILL. I wouldn't sue a fly! Geez. I don't hate the guy, and I think in large part it's the system that has built some incentive into for the disability laywers to have some incentive to act, perhaps unconsciously or not-so unconsciouly depending on the integrity of the lawyer (this one seems to have more than others I've seen advertised, at any rate) in their own interests to some degree - they do NOT get paid unless they win a monetary award of some kind, which, I think, may lead to some compromises that may not always be in the best interests of the client.

Whether or not the compromise in this case was in my best interests . . . . I don't know. I am not sure further appeals would have done any good, although I do know that both the judge and the expert flat-out IGNORED evidence from my family doctor that was BEFORE the dates that ended eligibility for full social security disability . . . . .

Anyway, it's in the past.

Hakuna Matata? That can be a good or a bad phrase, depending on how it's used, when, how, and why, I suppose. In the movie, not so good.

At least my behind, is in my past. Reverse that (channelling my inner Willy Wonka, and the word-mess-ups in this paragraph were all a-purpose, cause I needed some humor!)

Well, I guess this post also had some broader commentary on the Social Security disability application, hearing, adjudication, SSI, payment, and back-pay processes, as well as some more personal discussion of some of my experiences, which I've been meaning to discuss, anyway.

It also occurred to me, as I was typing, that I know it's probably wise to never say never in regards to reserving one's rights to further appeal in legal matters (or perhaps in regards to suing perhaps for the fact that I don't believe I was competent to be forced into making such an on-the-spot decision in such a pressured situation, which is exactly one of the things that sets off some of the mental health problems and disabilities of which they had just been browsing through in all their folders, ugh!!!) that my posting about this stuff could perhaps come back to bite me in the, er, proverbial behind (which is the past, hee hee), should I ever decide to pursue further appeals on the disability front . . . . but the process was so horrific, I can't foresee that.

It still might be unwise of me to post this, and I still feel that I was pressured, but I'm posting anyway.

What I'd like to happen the most out of this is that my experience be of some kind of help to others, whether in just reading about my struggles or in seeing a glimpse of the process, perhaps. I believe that this is far more likely to happen than a suit on the issue of competence or on the right to appeal.

As I say in the sidebar under Noodleheads regarding my friend Stephen of the blog Ethesis, he really does brighten up that whole Lawyer thing. There is hope in the legal world yet! They are not all people who can turn on you one second, and pull a bouquet of sweet-smelling flowers out of their sleeves the next.

The oddness of the call DID remind me of the inhuman jokes regarding lawyers that I'm assuming most people have heard, though. I guess lawyers need to perform in court, and being able to act, being able to turn different aspects of ones' self on and off, would probably be a handy trait to have, but geez, it was unnerving to be on the receiving end of, and I'm still MORE than unsettled by it!

The lawyer is sending me a copy of the paperwork that they say I have, that they say has the breakdown of the back-pay lump sums into year-by-year amounts, but they are sending me the paper anyway.

Yahoo!!!! I did what I've been putting off, and now it is done!

I phoned the knee doc and made an appointment, which is something I've been putting off as well.

Sorry to go on so long. Whew. I'm a bit emotionally wasted, perhaps I'll seek some online gaming out for relaxation . . . . . I'm PROUD AS HELL (sorry moms again . . .) that I came through that lawyer's barrage, even though I apparently checked out, during part of it. Gah, here come the tears! Ok, enough. Talk to you later, and yeah Stephen, I know you guys and gals in your profession aren't all like that.

Would you mind writing a guest post for me sometime? I'd be honored if you would! Your level of writing is just . . . . well, it's quite something, my friend.

*Note: I am not a lawyer, doctor, mental health practitioner or expert in any of those or any field referenced above or anything. Just a person with some troubles, blogging away.

Belated Christmas "Gifts" to Blog & Internet Friends: Barb's Turn

queenofsilly@hotmail.com (Sarebear) — Sat, 29 Mar 2008 21:52:00 +0000

bookshelf alternating stairs 3
Originally uploaded by anitajuneparker

Around Christmastime, I thought of some things I'd like to give some of the people I've met via my blogs or theirs, or in their comment sections or mine, or otherwhere around the interwebs.

First, for Barb, my most loyal, steadfast, courageous, spiritual, and so much more than I could say, blog reader - She's got a way of saying something, sometimes, that is so different than anyone else (and she says the same thing about me!). And her intellect! No wonder she reads so much, she's gotta feed that brain of hers!

What I'd give her, if I could, would be: something like this staircase that is also a bookcase, if it wasn't uncomfortable for her.

Whether or not it was a suitable option for her, at her option of course, if I could I would also give her one or both of the following (you can never have too many good places to curl up and read a good book, and one of these is easily mobile!)

The first I found, a while back, is called the Bibliochaise; it is available several places, here is one source.

The other, which has more book space available than you can see here (in the sides and back a bit, I think) is a nice place to curl up with a book, and has it's own lamp! A source for it can be found here.

I would hope all these, plus a nice supply of books, would be a great gift for Barb's thirsty brain! The staircase/bookcase was recently seen on Apartment Therapy's Blog.

There's my virtual Gifts for my more than virtual friend, Barb.

I guess the rest of you can wonder what I've got in mind for ya . . . . hee hee hee . . . . . Dinah's has got something to do with hair and ducks. Isn't that a teaser? Pun intended . . . . THAT was for Clink! Hee Hee (Clink loves puns ALOT, just like me!). Dinah and Clink are two of the three from the Shrink Rap blog, listed down under Noodleheads in my sidebar. (Roy makes up the balance of the three!) I wasn't quite sure how to list them, as I am rather unsure of their view of me! Then again, I tend to be an unsure kind of person. They're fun to banter with, and hope they consider me a blogfriend.

I'm not sure who's going to come next, or when!

Stay tuned!