Post-Surgery And The Life I Used to Have.

This is difficult.  Post-surgery for frozen shoulder and minor rotator cuff tear and I'm feeling like hell.    It will take a long time to recover and regain full use of my left arm, and dammit but it hurts to type.  I almost decided to do an audio blog but not enough privacy the last couple of days to do that.  So I'll make this just a quick check-in.

I'm not sleeping, mostly getting up several times a night to move my arm, elbow... to alleviate what pain I can.  This is often a tearful process.  I don't know when the big crash will come, but it will.  A human being simply can't withstand not sleeping like this.  On Wednesday, then on Saturday... things will change and hopefully for the better.

Sleeping on my side after this kind of surgery isn't the best idea, and it creates a world of pain, swelling to an unhealthy level in my arm.  This became the catalyst for ordering one of those Tempur Pedic beds.  NOT the cheapest thing in the world, but a very necessary one at this point as the healing process is going to take a long time.  So be it.  It's adjustable so I can support the back of my legs and have the back of the bed upright to manage sleeping without being on my side.  Saturday, a Laz-boy chair will arrive, and mostly for the same purpose.  As it stands now my options are to sit straight/upright or lay in a flat bed.  Both options mean pain and swelling.  But hey, those recliners are awesome and it's not like it won't be fully enjoyed way beyond the shoulder healing.

I suppose at this point I'm just rambling, but everything I am is consumed with the pain and trying to work past it without taking the powerful pain killers I was given.  The side effects sucks, and that means I'm making damn sure to take them sparingly.  But either way, my point is basically that I'll be dealing with this for a while and probably not making a lot of sense when I post.

There most likely won't be daily entries for a while, but I will try my best.

Post-surgery with all it's unbelievable pain has opened up a part of me that I really would rather leave closed, shut away, and ignored.  That echo chamber of the past and present merging in unsettling ways rumbles below the surface, always, making itself known at the darkest of hours and experiences.  I find myself unsettled---not just my circumstances or thoughts.  In the wee hours, especially when awakened by the almost ceaseless pain, true anxiety sets in and grips me.  Most of the time I can overcome it and get past it's frightening messages.  But then there are times when it takes hold and I find myself incredibly vulnerable and needing a strong, positive presence to jerk me back into a brighter reality.  Things is... I have no such strong, positive presence.  Yeah.
What to do with that.

As you guys know, indifference has been my companion.  T's indifference rears it's true self amidst the pain that really feels as if it's going to rip me apart.  You see, the first part of knowing how to squash pain naturally is to avoid stress at all costs, because stress destroy's the body's own ability to send much-needed pain killers to it's needed location.  Over time, especially in the presence of AI disease and fibromyalgia.... the breakdown of this mechanism is swift and brutal, leaving me without any natural defenses.  This sucks.

I've been brought to tears by the sheer intensity and duration of this pain, and the fibro is in a massive flare-up now, adding wide-spread, diffuse pain to that of the post-surgical.  While it's nothing to brag about, I will admit that I've been brought to my knees by the force of it all, crying so hard I felt as if my head would explode.  Late at night, when it's at its worst T will simply get up, stand there... and say nothing, do nothing, offer nothing.  I've had to tell him it's best he stay away rather than bring that indifference to the already miserable situation.

It is times like this that I long for "home," whatever and wherever that is.  No one to reach out to, to plead to, or talk to.  Not a parent, sibling, or best friend.  No one.  It's only when either by exhaustion or prescription intervention does the pain lessen a little, just enough for my mind to bring forth an image of a healthy, happy, joyful, fulfilled and pain-free me.  When I fall asleep... it sometimes carries me into dreaming, those thoughts.

My arm is in a lot of pain at the moment, so I'm going to sign off.  I hope that each day with willpower and physical therapy.. and even the weaker moments when I allow myself the prescription help to relieve the pain... maybe I'll get stronger, better.  I have 3 days of PT this coming week... and I pray it's the start to real recovery.

I need this pain to stop.  I really do.

Hopefully I can post tomorrow.

PS... I was amazed at how many page views Where Fireflies Dream received.... gave me a smile.

It's About Time.

When I first began blogging it was for one specific reason--venting.  I needed a place where I could get things off my chest that were bothering me so I could get on with life without cumbersome emotions or baggage.  I had ONE blog at that time.  When things got tough, and they often were, I would visit my blog and unload to my heart's content, not giving a single iota to being politically correct or holding back out of some delusion that I somehow had to be 'polite' here.  The venting would ensue, fall upon the screen, and I would be left to bask in the aftermath of some seriously epic purging of thoughts, feelings, and more.  In the end I would usually go back and delete the long-winded and emotionally-charged entries, knowing I could do so now that some time had past.  That blog still exists and I still post in it as often as possible, and I named it "All Things Ephemeral" for a reason, even if that reason no longer exists.  Let me explain....

A few years ago I made the decision to stop deleting the entries.  Being honest with myself I realized that I was deleting so as not to 'hurt feelings' of those I vented about.  No matter that I left off names and details that would give much away to the wrong set of eyes reading, I decided it was somehow 'impolite' to share even my feelings and experiences.  Boy, was that ever stupid.  I'm glad I came to my senses and stopped editing the content over some perceived butthurt it may cause someone else.  But, did I really stop editing my own entries after all?  Well, today I figured it was something worth investigating.

I often come here and stare at the blank screen where bits of my life would fall and wonder... "How can I actually talk about this?"  I know as I write just how much I'm holding back, even when I don't WANT to.  Still, the struggle to set myself free remains just that--a struggle, even today.  Even when I know the healthiest thing I can do for myself is write about it, get it out of my system, it's remains incredibly difficult just the same.

What I want very much to do right now is to take the first step in 'going there,' to talk openly instead of using a string of allusions to piece together a story that, when all is said and done, remains unclear and ill-explained because of that fear below the surface of truth.

A Bold First Step

My next blog entry will be in This Free Spirit, and I tell you this because it will ultimately be the first blog entry in many years where I hold little if nothing back.  With failing health I need all the help I can get to break the bonds of emotional servitude, and the first step is to open myself completely to the idea of 'almost' full disclosure.

Wish me luck....

Dealing. Just dealing.

I've dealt with enough crap this morning to last a lifetime.  Unearthed is the truth, something I'll have to deal with one day at a time, one decision at a time.  After posting in This Free Spirit I've little left to say, as I'm spent emotionally.  Overall, I'm glad to have the benefit of the truth, even if it's not pretty.  Not being one to like my head in the sand I will just face what actually IS, rather than pretend all is well in my world.  It's just the reality of life.

Dealing with health issues, the indifference and lack of compassion from T, seeing a glimmer of what 'could' be once I'm well again... is a lot to process every day.  Maybe not so much for someone healthier, but it certainly is for me.  I suppose I can just say it's keeping me on my toes.

For the most part today I feel betrayed and stuck in a life that I'm not at all fitting into.  I miss MY life but accept that sacrifices are made with a relationship, be it marriage or something else.  The betrayal I refer to is that, once again, I've a situation where I'm with someone who pretended one thing and is actually another.  I don't like that at all.  He's not evil or abusive, so don't get me wrong.  But what he hid and the lies he told DO have an impact on life, especially mine.

For heaven's sake, why can't people just be HONEST about who they are?!

My morning was riddled with anxiety and stress, so I'm paying the price for that today with fatigue, discomfort, elevated pain level.... and just a dull feeling of sadness that is going to take some work to overcome.  It's not depression really, but more like heavy disappointment laced with anger.

My view of life is somewhat distorted as I spend the majority of my time alone.  I'm once again disconnected from the greater part of living--meaning the outside world.  Too sick to get out of the house, and in a place I've not been in but for a short time means... I don't know anyone.  It's a familiar situation, I'm afraid, and it's not my choice but more my circumstances.  But this disconnection does hinder the healing process, which isn't going well at all but actually getting worse.

Another day of dealing with what I already deal with, and also new challenges.

Well... till tomorrow......

Flat-Lined.

It's not as dramatic as it appears.  I'm referring to just feeling down.  I've posted in a couple of other blogs over the past week, but I'm having trouble posting in all of them right now.  Sincerely, I want to.  I do.  But I've been very sick and it's basically kicked my butt for the most part.  Still, I have things I want to talk about, things I would like to talk WITH someone about.  It's not always that easy, though, is it?  The communication process between humans these days has become ridiculously complicated and full of boobytraps.

It's not boredom.  I'm not bored but frustrated that my physical body and my emotional body are at odds.  I'm not living life.  I'm definitely not living MY life.  Anything that resembles 'life' is filtered through T, and that's no life at all.  No one, and I mean no one who has to filter their life through someone else's won't do it for long and will eventually, out of necessity, find a way out so they can breathe again, live again.  It's not a matter of IF but a matter of WHEN---always.

There's not much else I can say to paint a picture that you'd understand to any real degree.  That's not saying you guys aren't intelligent but rather than I'm having a difficult time expressing myself.  It's not you, it's me! lol

I have a friend, however, that I used to speak with quite often, someone who gets me almost intuitively, and I've not spoken to him in a while.  But he's always there when I reach out.  He lives in Atlanta, so it's not like we hang out.  When I speak to him, even via email, I feel 'heard' and respected.  His responses to questions etc are spot-on and given attention as if they're important.  He says.. they are important.  It's the same when he reaches out.  We have a wonderful friendship, unique really, and he's easy to talk to.  I did have another very good friend in CA but... he's lost his way to the occupy movement and has become one of those self-loathing whites who's associated himself with B L M.  I don't speak to him anymore--he's gone quite nuts and isn't even himself anymore.  But my Atlanta friend is exactly who he was when I met him some 14 years ago.

It's wonderful having a friend like that, it really is.  And he says I'm a great friend to him... he's one o the most awesome people I know, so there's love there, always has been.  There is, however, a very real difference between having to speak on the phone or email etc., and actually being able to hug that friend and say hello, etc.  Oh well.  It is what it is.  All I know is that if not for him... the misery would be beyond tolerable.

So what does all this mean?  It means SSDD.  I wish I could say something encouraging, that I'll be right back on track again and posting about more interesting aspects of life and more.  But the truth is, I'm still sick and feeling awful.  All I can do is frequent my blogs when I can and post about what's real.

Hopefully, and with prayer and perseverance, the narrative here will change--soon.

Well. Damn.

If there's anything that I'm NOT afraid of it's doctors and needles.  I don't mind a shot when necessary, and I don't mind blood work or IVs when needed.  However, one thing I discovered today is: I rather NOT okay with giving injections to myself.  And that, unfortunately, is what it's come to... at least right now.

So I saw my Endocrinologist today regarding my lab results for Cushings, Adrenal Fatigue, and... blood sugar issues.  The latter was a big concern because I ended up with Cushing's Syndrome while taking Prednisone, long-term (approximately 3 months).  My allergist stated flat-out that I would be lucky NOT to end up with Type II Diabetes due to my reaction to the Prednisone.  Lovely.  Especially given that my mom and oldest sister both had it (both deceased).

I have other health issues so the drug my doctor wanted me on can't be an option right now.  Lucky me, instead I get an injection... a treatment for Diabetes that's used for PRE-Diabetes/Insulin Resistance--which is where I'm at right now.  Damn.

Serum fasting glucose, Glucose Tolerance Test, AND serum Insulin were taken to assess IF I were in trouble and how badly.  My fasting INSULIN was double what it should have been, my fasting glucose was 111, and at one point... my fasting glucose (in the past few months) was 123.  I had NO idea about that 123 FG.  So here I am having to give myself a lovely injection in my abdomen (skin) once a week for 2 weeks to see if I need to continue that or not, long term, OR... if she's going to put me on another protocol.

The GOOD news is, at least on this one test, my adrenals are perfectly fine and right in the middle of the normal range.  She doesn't completely trust it so wants to test them again in 2 weeks to see where it is.  I also have to have my A1C tested again in a couple of weeks.

It's begun.

I'm NOT looking forward to giving myself an injection, even IF it's an automatic device and pre-loaded.  Just YUCK!!

I have hypOglycemia symptoms and have had those in the past.  I won't explain the process here of what happens BEFORE a person ends up diabetic, etc., because it's more time and energy than I have right now.  But hypOglycemia symptoms suck pretty bad.  Weakness, shaking, fatigue, cold sweats, headaches, etc.  What fun.  However, we're not exactly sure what's causing the chronic pain.  Endo says she also wonders about a myositis situation given the elevated Aldolase on a couple of occasions.  It's not elevated NOW, but I also was on prednisone and Imuran for 3 months, so that took care of any inflammation there might have been in my muscles.. causing muscle breakdown.

I don't know how anyone will ever be able to nail down the cause of the muscle pain after my having been on corticosteroids.  I just don't know.

Well, the pain is pretty severe so am going to sign off for now.  Wish me luck in the morning when I have to give myself my first injection.

The Blandness of Being.

I'm in pain.  A lot of pain.  Trying to think and write here is often too difficult, so... I choose to avoid nonsensical blathering when I can.  But then, I get a few emails or messages on FB asking if I'm okay, why am I not posting, etc.  When this happens I make sure to come here and at least put in an appearance.  As for catching up, well, not sure there's much to catch up on.  But I'll try.

I'm still waiting on lab results regarding my adrenals and blood sugar.  My BP goes very high, then... very low.  No way to treat that, and until we know if my adrenals are struggling we may not know what causes the crazy swings in BP.  It's said that those swings are more dangerous than constantly high BP.  Well, so what?  If you can't do anything about it then why bother worrying?

All there is right now is day by day assessment and trying not to plan anything in advance.  Do you hear the blandness?  I feel it.  I see it.  I live it.

What do I do all day then?  Well, I'm learning Spanish so work on that when I can.  I listen to music, watch Trump rallies, etc. on RSBN.  Well, I use the link from RSBN's web site to the youtube version so I can chat with some friends there and participate.  Not the most glamorous of lives, right?  It's okay... I'm still breathing, so there's that.

Then there's the insomnia.  I believe a lot of the blandness of being right now stems from not being able to sleep well at all.  I desperately need to get the surgery on my shoulder as it hurts badly all night long.  But I have to wait for the results on my adrenals and find out what needs to be done, if any, prior to and during surgery in order to avoid a dangerous adrenal crash while undergoing surgery.  Adrenal Crisis is life-threatening, so the surgeon isn't willing to do the surgery until I get clearance to get it, etc.  Fatigue will absolutely flatten a person out, especially when it's chronic... and... it drains the adrenals.

All in all, the stress has taken its toll.  It took its toll years ago when I was in a BADLY stressful relationship for 11 years.  The relationship was BADLY stressful---as much as the 11 yr one, only condensed into a shorter time frame.  And now it's very stressful but for very different reasons.  T at least is open-minded most of the time to what's needed to avoid the stressful situations.  However, he's not good at all with follow-through, and even in that there is stress.

I pray every day.  I ask God to just shorten this suffering--and yes, it is absolutely suffering.  Anyone who's had chronic pain knows what I'm talking about.  I try and go through my days as normally as I can, find stuff that makes me laugh, smile, or inspires hope.  Motivation is out of reach but at least I can see it in the distance.

For all practical purposes.... this is just life for me at the moment.  I will have a lot of catching up to do when I'm back to full-strength me.....

Sugar-Drunk. Not Kidding.

So today was the Glucose Tolerance Test (GTT) today.  Had to fast, of course, then drink 75mg of pure glucose and have my blood tested 3 times.  Well, it was a real PITA getting stuck that many times in one sitting due to having only two veins that are viable for that.... and they originally tried to draw from a vein on the side of my forearm.  O. M. G. NEVER AGAIN.  Horrible.  But after drinking the nasty-sweet drink I felt okay... at first.  Before long I felt a little queasy, then.... drunk.  No joke.  I was SO dizzy and stupid feeling that I had to ask the techs if it was normal.  I suppose it is somewhat, but they had to call my doctor to see if she wanted them to continue or abandon the test.  She said keep going---as long as I didn't vomit.

No vomiting, thank God.  Only the queasy feeling and massive dizziness.  Sheesh.

Got home... and just felt weak, shaky, wobbly.  All of that changed once I ate something with protein.  I'm not sure if reaction to the glucose is any indication of anything, but I would guess my pancreas is responding well enough and sending a fat dose of insulin in to take care of the sugar... hence the drop in sugar (a guess) with all the dizziness and nausea.

Their computers were down, so.. looks like it'll be a couple of days before I know the results.  My prediction: I'm fine, blood sugar-wise.  I don't have any gut feelings that I'm diabetic, and the doctor is only testing because the prednisone-induced Cushing's Syndrome can cause type II diabetes.  Still, I do expect this to come out just fine, honestly.

*sigh*  Another doctor's appointment tomorrow.  Phooey.

Should I....???

It's been a 'musical' day for the most part, as it usually is when I'm having a bad day.  So much pain, what else is there?  Either music, or Spanish lessons.  And... decision-making.  Hmmmm.

So, silencing the music I wonder... of people who've either extracted themselves from my life.. or I booted them.  Either way, there are reasons for everything in life, for choosing to stick with the status quo, or... to create meaningful change and hope for the best.  As all life goes, everything is a risk.  Everything.

It's been my policy that once I'm an 'ex' I'm an ex.  I don't, and have never, seen any reason to stay even loosely inserted in someone's life when you've been rejected, or... when you've rejected them.  Sure, some people can become BFFs with their ex's.. that's fine for them.  But for me, the past is the past.  Not that there's been any exceptions to this rule--there have been.  There's been exactly 2 exceptions, and for good reason.  However, one person was a friend who, no matter how how I tried to forgive repeatedly, decided that his immersion into the 'occupy' movement... simply made him just this side of intolerable.  That's another story for another day---or perhaps not at all.

A discussion with a  friend of mine recently gave me a lot to think about.  Her life is vastly different from mine, which poses difficulty for her when it comes to giving me advice.  She doesn't get where I'm coming from at all most of the time, and that's okay.  We also don't share a deep friendship, and in  fact.. it's fairly superficial for the most part.  Only once a month, roughly, do we actually talk to one another, and we don't hang out ever.  That's okay too.

So, what she presented to me was basically this:  Why cut anyone out of your life?  On the surface it's a good question, but it lacks something vital.  The most important reason for cutting someone completely out of your life is that the relationship proved to be harmful in some way.  So with just that reason in mind... it just makes no sense to present the question in that way.  However, I added a little more to it, such as 'How much forgiveness is available given the circumstances and does that forgiveness translate into a 2nd, or even 3rd chance?'  Basically, maybe there's some merit to looking at each circumstance individually.  Maybe.

In the case of my 'occupy' friend I honestly don't know what to think.  We were the best of friends for over 12 years.  He lives in CA and even at that distance it never hindered our friendship a bit.  We watched movies together, which was often hilarious as we attempted to sync the DVD's and not react too quickly if we were slightly ahead of the other.  We shared EVERYTHING.  We expressed joy, anger, sadness, etc., and could talk for hours on the phone every day.  We helped each other when times were tough, and there wasn't a minute in a 24 hour period that was off-limits.  A 2am phone call or 4am phone call was always answered.  Not that we took advantage of that, but.. it was always a given that, should we need each other, that we could reach out and have someone right there on the other end of the line.

He lost his job of almost 20 years due to layoffs, and that's when everything went terribly wrong.  I suppose as he struggled to find his footing again (in Los Angeles) he found, instead, a group of people who became like family to him.  His mother & father is deceased, and his sister is, well... she's not the warmest of people and left him, literally, to drown in his own circumstances.  I wasn't able to help him financially, and he wasn't inclined to leave CA at that time... so his situation became even worse.  During this time he met with those involved in the occupy moment, and that... is where he lost himself.

Phone calls that used to be about life, living, music, humor, movies, songs he was writing (he's a musician), animals, etc... became all about occupy this or that.  Then... he got involved in the B L M moment, and the smart part of him that wasn't devoured by occupy was completely consumed by B L M... and he became a self-loathing 'white.'  Neither of us are racist, and so I'm not sure why he became lost, so completely and totally lost to a group that for every practical purpose devoured his soul and personality.

For about 4-5 years now I've spoken to him very little with the last phone call being last summer when I bought him a Vegan cookbook.  I never even heard a word back from him other than when I send him a message asking if he received it and he replied with... "Thanks."

His name on social networking sites has the word 'occupy' in it, and I guess it really represents what he's become.

I don't call him anymore, and now that it's election time... and he's a flaming liberal while I'm a conservative (converted after making the huge mistake of voting for Obama the first time)... we have even more animosity.  He was the one, in fact, that talked me into voting for Obama, and already having a deep dislike for a chronically triggered McCain... it was inevitable that I'd give in.  There was also the health care thing, something I desperately needed, but... that's not the only reason I regret that vote.  I was an independent, and now I'm not, so I'm 'gifted' with his presence on my FB on occasion as he bashes Trump, whom I'm supporting and have since the start.

"There are three things I never discuss with people; religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin." -Linus

So is, was, my usual stance.  But my friend vomited horrible remarks on my FB page on a post in which I finally had to tell him the truth, the blunt truth that he's not the person I once knew and loved as a friend... but that if he resorted to spewing hate on my TL again.. I would block him. Period.  It's taken years to get to this point.

My friend with the advice... I made a decision to re-think my stance.  But as I told her... there are limits to what I'll endure.  Case by case basis seems reasonable.  I easily forgive, but I'm not one who easily forgets.

The days of my being a doormat for criticism, judgment and cruelty to enter my life is over.

"You've chosen lessons of pain."

I received a message with this video in it yesterday.  I have no idea who the person is who sent it... but, oddly.. this is one of my favorite songs and one I listen to every night.  Headphones on, dark room, and songs to obliterate the thoughts....

The Fourth Child in Social Hierarchy PART I.

The number isn't important, because it's not the same for everyone.  But for me, the number is 4.  It's always 4.  This relationship, and 'almost' every other I've had I've felt like someone's mother, to a someone who isn't actually a child but behaves like one.  I've raised my kids!  But.. have I?

Let's talk about what WORKS in a relationship first.

At the core of every successful relationship is a balance of power.  I'm not speaking about responsibilities as a whole; if both work, if one works, and which one works, or who does the yard or cooking.  Those things are simply tasks that have to be done, nothing more.  Doesn't really matter who does it.  The 'balance of power' I'm talking about can be broken down to two more very simple categories---male and female.  And yet, there's really more to that when you think about it.  It's dominant vs submissive, and.. I'm not talking sex, though that usually translates right into that.  However, sex is another discussion for another time.  For now, what I want to talk about/address, is the 'alpha' and 'beta' roles in people, and how those don't always fall in line with the majority.

So that 'core' or 'foundation' in a relationship is balanced and harmonic when you have one of each; one alpha, and one beta.  Now, before you get your undies in a bunch, I'm not talking about which is more important, because...BOTH are not only important, but necessary for any relationship to actually work.

In the context of social hierarchy the alpha male is usually the confident, charming guy who wields his success, not as a weapon, but as a champion's sword.  There are 'pseudo-alphas,' but I'll address that later.  In the same context, the 'omega' (not within the scope of this discussion) is the socially awkward, creepy guy who doesn't make or keep friends easily.  And last, but not least, the beta.  The beta male is the most notable here and is the main topic.  HOWEVER, I'll also be addressing the female role in this as well (Alpha, Beta).

It's a given that there are good people and bad people, and it doesn't have anything to do with whether they're alpha or beta.  The latter can affect the delivery and responses in their reactions to any given circumstance, but a good person can be either, and a bad person can be either.  So there's no 'good/bad' judgment when speaking overall.

The Alpha Male:

This guy is confident inside and out.  He doesn't really feel the need to belittle others to make himself look or feel better.. because it's just unnecessary.  An Alpha is no wuss and will defend himself readily.  The good guy alpha (which I'll refer to as the GGA) is the one who loves to take charge, not to dominate and suppress, but to care for and protect.  Almost all women (except Alpha women) are attracted to this type of man.  It's not rocket science but simply nature at work.

The Beta male:

Unlike the Alpha, this guy is is a little harder to describe and a lot more tricky to deal with, especially when you're a woman.  Beta males can be very charming, very sweet, personable, and extremely successful.  "Alpha" or "Beta" doesn't guarantee success or failure in life.  But we're not going to take things down to that level as it's not the purpose of this discussion.  Let's move on...

The beta males are the sit-back guys.  You know, the ones who are often well-liked by all, very calm, passive, etc.  Even the extremely successful ones who're at the top of their careers, make a lot of money or even are wealthy, well.. they often still find themselves 'not exactly' at the top.  But it's okay because they're happy there.  Isn't that what everyone wants?  To be happy?

Beta's can be a girl's best friend.  You know, the straight guy who's like a GF.  Nothing wrong with that either.  However, that passive, sometimes shy and socially awkward beta can turn on you, and when you least expect it.

You see, betas are often lost to the idea of dating and relationships.  Some of them may 'think' they know and understand, but when they're IN a relationship that relationship can go south in a bad way.  Passive turns to passive-aggressive, and in many many cases.. overt aggressive.  Kind of like the submissive dog in the pack that finally lashes out... at whatever is near it.  No offense to dogs, btw.

There's a big difference between taking charge and bullying.  Contrary to what you might think, Alpha males aren't usually abusers, bullies, etc.  Not that they CAN'T be, because at the very core of being 'human' is that we're all literally subject to just about every trait there is.  Having said that, you'll most likely find that the 'nice guy' routine in a beta fails epically when tough or testy situations arise.

NOTE: I use terms like "most" or "many" because some betas really, truly are very sweet and good guys.  Just know I'm not labelling all betas as 'bad guys.'  And, I'll get to the balance of power in PART II.

Betas are often very needy, meaning... they often have a lot of demands that, when not met, result in massive pouting episodes or out-right tantrums.  Either way, they'll make you pay when they're not happy.  AGAIN, not ALL Betas do this, but it is almost always the case, meaning.. the majority.

Betas are often known from going from "Mr. Nice Guy" to "Complete and utter jerk" a moment later.

Most Beta's don't do very well with women, except for those women who are, in effect, Alphas.  This is where that whole 'balance of power' thing comes in.

When things go awry in a relationship is when both parties are "Alpha" or "Beta."

I'll take this one up in a moment in PART II....

"G" gave me an order. OH NO SHE DI'N'T!

OH yes she did! ;p  And then we cracked up, drank coffee, and drained our cell phone batteries talking.

Basically, we have this same conversation about twice a month, sometimes more often depending on how much I put into my blogs.  You see, she has ONE blog that she pours absolutely everything into.  And that works for her.  Not so much for me.  So, on occasion, like yesterday, she told me I "Absolutely must" re-share the links across my blogs so people realize I'm not always saying the same thing in all the same places.  Okay.  If I must. ;p  She's a good egg, so I'll indulge her every so often.

The one thing I'm not on board with is her insistence that I talk here about the same things I talk to HER about.  Yeah, no.... I don't think ANYONE is ready for THAT! lol


NOTE: The links below can also be found on the menu section in each of my blogs.  Easy peasy. ;)

My other blogs:

Boo's Juicy Bits

This Free Spirit

Where Fireflies Dream

The Crap I Spew

All Things Ephemeral


Happy now, G?  Now let's see you bring some order to that mincemeat you call a blog. (*snort*).

Yeah, we've been friends for several years so can jab at each other.  All in good fun.. :)

Anger? Surprise? Inspiration at its worst? WTH?

Sometimes I get a spark of something that inspires me.  Such inspiration doesn't always present itself in the best way, though, but I usually try to go with it when it happens.  Such gems shouldn't be taken for granted but taken advantage of.  It really is that rare.

In the midst of fighting for every drop of energy that can be found wherever it is I can find it, a tiny burst will make its way into the day and nudge me.  Okay, I can certainly deal with that.  Wish there were MORE of it, but I'll take what I can get and go with it nonetheless.

The fuel for this little 'fire' isn't from a good source, definitely not a positive force, and most definitely not from a pleasant source.  Be that as it may, there it is... kind of like when your dog has an accident and you're left looking at it wondering to yourself what you did to deserve such a... 'gift'? lol  Okay, okay... enough with lame attempts at comedy.  Even so, the conversation with a friend of mine earlier today was what ignited this whatever-it-is and sent me on a journey to try and put my thoughts in order.  I found the results of that rather.. lacking.

All this blabbering, to be honest, is just my working through it all.  Not the conversation, because that was interesting and creatively invigorating.  But the chaos I'm dealing within the thought process at the moment is simply trying to pull together the shards of data that's left from past experience.  Anyone who understands this knows where I'm coming from.  G knows.  She gets it.  And, from what I read on her blog(s)... she's been able to run with it without tripping like a clown every step of the way that I've been.  Eh.  I'm still confident that this purging will eliminate the chaff and reveal the good stuff.  I'll be back to discuss that when it happens.

The Art of ASSumption & The Most Powerful Thing To Be...

I spent the last 1/2 hour or so talking on the phone to a friend of mine, who also has a blog as well, and we talked about life, health, girl stuff, and so on.  During the course of the conversation, and as the conversation settled into more meaningful, deeper topics... we both came to the realization that scrutiny is good, and ASSumption is bad.  Okay.  Sounds silly when you put it like that, but why confuse the issue with pretty words?

Somewhere between acquiring information and implementing reason something can go very, very awry, and the consequences aren't anything to write home about.  So why do people fall prey to the rather weak lure of assumption when the truth is often, though not always, fairly interesting?  G and I concluded that we definitely are in the middle of a dung-pile of thrill-seekers who can't handle being removed from the most caustic drama available.  And when it's not available... they set about constructing the facade that will most assist them in their endeavor to be shocked, appalled, thrilled, and mortified.  How crazy is that?  Well, maybe it's not crazy at all.

Humans thrive on drama.  Whether you have drama in your life or not, and it doesn't matter who's fault the drama is, people just can't seem to help themselves when said drama isn't up to par for their taste.  It takes talent, G and I agree on this, and we believe that in all seriousness people hone and perfect this skill that is not at all unlike mental heroin.  Once people try it.. they can't do without it, and when their 'stash' of drama runs low, or it's just not doing it anymore for them, they have to enhance it somehow.

Right before G and I hung up so we could, you know, blog about it (grin)... we both thought there was, in so many ways, a certain kind of power with being honest with blogging AND life.  When you realize your advantage, when it finally hits you that you're actually in a position power... the anger against having ASSumption being projected on you... that's the moment you win.

The most powerful thing to be, hands-down, is underestimated.

Now, this isn't anything new.  I've known this, as most do, my whole life.  Or at least fairly early on at some point... usually in childhood.  Even if we don't recognize it right off deep in our gut we know.  The first time someone doesn't believe us when we're telling the truth--realization sets in.  And either then, or later on in life, at some point in time... you understand fully that the moment people don't give you credit for having intelligence is the moment they relinquish their own power.. to you.

People who don't respect you try, even subconsciously, to discredit you.  This is a very strong form of underestimation of you as a person.  This means they underestimate you, therefore, can't predict what you will say, do, or think at any moment in any situation.  The mistrust they infuse doesn't move beyond themselves and, therefore... they weaken their own ability to 'keep up.'  My question in all of this is.. "Why on earth would they deliberately assume the position of weakness?"  Well, that's something only those people can answer.

I can be amused by all of this easily.  However, as G and I agreed, there's a certain element of pity that comes into play when you realize that when people choose to inject ASSumption into truth that their lives must become terribly distorted as a result.  How can anyone find anything good if the distortion becomes a barrier to actual communication?

At this moment I can visualize G blogging away frantically---excited to know she's not as powerless as she once thought.  It was a good conversation.

Off to re-post on my other blogs, then to read G's blog...

What a weird freaking day.

What to make of this week so far...

NOTE:  Actual talking will commence post-whining. *snort*

Begin Whining:  Waiting.  The Watchman Device isn't, at least in AL, approved by BC/BC insurance.  This means my cardiologist and electrophysiologist have to start the appeal process to get it approved for me.  So the waiting game sits in and I'm stuck on a blood thinner I believe is ruining my health.  So there's that.  I also found out I may have a torn rotator cuff and may need surgery.  Well alrighty then.  But hey, if that's what it is an I have to go through Sx and have my arm in a sling for a month... I can live with that.  The pain.. not so much.  Since when did I become such a wuss?

I've always had a high pain tolerance, but I've never had chronic pain like this either.  Guess I'll give myself a pass this time.

Somehow the idea of just living a normal life has receded into the background of dull static making it hard to hear myself think.  Everyone goes through a little something every now and then, and sometimes it's a big something.  It resolves, and people move on.  This has been a very long haul so far, but I'll do the same once I get past whatever the hell this is.  End whining:

Re-discovering 'me' again.  Sounds so damn egocentric, doesn't it?  Especially when you say it out loud.  But hey, it's not like anyone else can do that for me, right?  Getting through the steps of the day sometimes interferes with the process, trying hard to remember who I am and all that entails.  In my situation, since it's not somewhere I've been my entire life, it's a bit more difficult given this is an abrupt situation, rather than a chronic one.  It's a bit like a tidal wave of change that pummeled and stripped everything I knew about me and my life... completely away, removing almost all recognizable things and swept them out to sea.  Well, on one had that really sucks.  But, on the other hand it just means a clean slate.  Right?

Then there's the debris, having to clear that away.  Beginning to re-think and rebuild what was once 'me' is probably one of the strangest and toughest things I've ever face with regards to my own personal experiences here on planet earth.  Not to say it's completely bad, mind you, but it is a little unsettling to have to repair damage that was done that was beyond my control.  Medication and illness has a way of doing that sometimes.  So be it.

(Have I mentioned I absolutely love coffee?)

Anyway, there are choices I have to make.  Sounds reasonable, right?  The trick is having the strength and energy to see those choices through.  Like my choice, be it a small one, to visit ALL of my blogs today and catch up on things a bit.  Sounds easy as hell, yet even now my arms are so weak and achy that I still have to rest them on the laptop as I type.  So there's that.

What does all of this even mean?  I'm still fighting.  That's what it means.  I've walked right to the edge of just giving up but have managed to not step off into oblivion.  Isn't that how we all get through the hard times?.. not by saying there aren't difficulties but by saying there are and fighting being overtaken by them.  Well.. that's me anyway.

I'm still reaching for a better life, and that counts for something.  I guess.

When I'm without words, music...

When I'm without words, music...

Is THIS all there is?

And what I'm left with in the end is--not a single answer, solution, nor any real strength to wait until the next step reveals itself.  Over the span of more than a month now, ever since titering off the prednisone, my body has become my worst enemy.  It's weak when I need strength, it's 'loudly' painful when I need peace, serenity, rest.  And for the life of me nothing seems to get better as the days pass one after the next.  Nothing, it seems, is working.

There is hope, right?  People always say "There is always hope."  But the time for continuing to believe in something that has yet to be true--is coming to an end.  Once again, though most want to help, doctors are throwing up their hands and telling me--they don't know what to do, what it is, or how to help me.  I still have one last appointment, with an endocrinologist this time, who may be able to help.  Is this going to be my last hope?  I don't even have the strength to ponder that question.

So in this "New normal" of mine, real life doesn't exist.  Nothing beyond the windows means anything, and all inside this house can continue to collect dust in it's blooming irrelevancy.  Honestly, I've never experienced ANYTHING like this before and don't know what it is I'm dealing with.

I have no appetite whatsoever, and food doesn't even taste good anymore.  You'd think I'd get some benefit from that, like weight loss.  But no, thanks to the prednisone after-effects I can eat less than 1,000 calories a day and not lose a single ounce.  yay.

You're probably thinking "Oh, that sounds just like depression!"  Well, perhaps.  Except.. depression makes it so you don't WAN'T do do anything, go anywhere, and while it comes with physical pain, etc... what I'm dealing with isn't quite like that.  Oh, I GET depressed--but who wouldn't?  My mind and spirit WANT'S to do things again, not spend most of my time in bed (literally), wants to go places, take my camera and explore, and have at least an ordinary life if not an extraordinary one.  The DESIRE is there, buried deep beneath weakness, fatigue, pain, nausea, and so much more.  It's there, but it's being held hostage at the moment.

My life now, day by day, is marked by two thoughts: Morning: "Maybe today!"  And evening: "Maybe tomorrow!"

Is THIS my new normal?  Is this all there is, all I have to look forward to?  Will I ever feel good again?  Will I ever feel anything but pain, fatigue, and discomfort?  Will I ever have JOY again?

Will I EVER feel good or experience joy again?  Will it always be about pain, misery?

Will I really have to spend the rest of my life feeling like I have the worst case of the flu 24/7?

Will I ever... get answers to those questions?

Nothing is ever easy--nothing important anyway.

So, as you guys may know (if you read my entries) my health has been chaos over the past year or so.  Okay, so before that too, but lately it's hit a whole new level of 'bottom.'  It is what it is.  Recently, due to being pretty much bedridden I began to wean myself off as many medications as possible, and so far... it's not helped.  But I think what's left to explore is possibly key.  About that in a minute.

I'm on a few medications.  A blood thinner due to a TIA in 2013 attributed to Afib, etc. I had ablations for 3 arrhythmias.  Two different medications for GERD, two different medications for (embarrassingly) chronic IBD, a statin, Prednisone and Imuran for AIH.  Over the past week I completely ditched the statin, and I ditched the Imuran shortly after weaning off Prednisone.

Yes, I'm at risk for a flare up of AIH by stopping the Imuran.  I don't care.  QUALITY of life is far more important to me than how long I live.  It's a weird thing to have to face that reality, but.. there's a chance the AIH may not flare again for a year or two.  We'll see.

So where I am, briefly because I feel horrible and am weak, is in hormone hell.  After taking the Prednisone for 3 months that has likely suppressed my adrenals, which affect other hormones...

Okay... sorry, but my arms are aching badly just from typing.

Sheesh.  More later.. I hope.

Facts after the fact.

Had an appointment with the Dentist re my "mild" sleep apnea.  This diagnosis, btw, was really surprising to me, because I knew I wasn't sleeping well but thought it was because I was waking up so much during the night.  Pain, etc., all played a roll in my tossing and turning at night, fighting will a stubborn pillow which refused to submit to my will, and wresting with a blanket that I once viewed as the softest, most comfy-cozy piece of fabric on earth.  I mean, microfiber is the shit, is it not?  Yet, it never occurred to me that I could have sleep apnea.  Who knew?

This diagnosis, as you guys may know from past entries here, and on my other blogs, happened a few months back, even prior to the AIH diagnosis.  However, the dentist I see who makes the oral device (CPAP is out of the question) revealed my "score" as "11."  I had no idea I even had a score, much less what that number was.  I really need a new pulmonologist.  Sheesh.

So the dentist held up my chart with "11" written with a black Sharpie and explained what was what, again, and what I should look for in changes as the device is adjusted over the next couple of weeks.  I asked him, as T did (he was there) what the number meant, and this is what he told me....

"That number is the score they gave you based on how many times you stop breathing while sleeping."

Well.  Alrighty then.

So as he further explained, it's a score based on how many times a person stops breathing during the night divided by how many hours they slept.  The score means that, on average, I stop breathing 11 times per hour.

I sat there for a moment considering this information, and I wasn't sure how to react really because it was the first time I learned of this.  No one at the sleep study center told me, and my pulmonologist didn't bother telling me at all either.  It took a minute to digest.

So I guess there's a damn good reason I'm tired all of the time--in addition to all the pain and weakness.  But wow.  11 times an hour--and that's in the MILD sleep apnea range.  Crazy.

Over time it will be interesting to see how I feel as the device is adjusted forward.  This device, btw, moves the lower jaw forward a little to open up the airway and move the tongue forward--this is based on CPR maneuvers.  Pretty cool.  But it takes a little time because if the jaw is moved forward too quickly it can cause TMJ.  I already have issues with this due to grinding my teeth when I sleep, something the dentist has told me is solely due to stress.  In fact, when I asked him what the 'cure' is, he replied... "Not being stressed."

Well, I'm shit out of luck in that department.  Oh well.  So anyway, the adjustments for me have to be done a LOT slower due to this.

On another subject, I will have a new cardiologist soon.  My first appt will be in May.

Now that I've made my arms ache typing... I'll wrap this up.  There's more to say but I'll give myself a little time in that respect...

Home.

One thing I've known for certain for pretty much all of my life is that when I'm ill, I long for home.  When I was little I knew where that place was, and despite its terrible flaws it was still home.  As an adult I was surprised to find that I no longer knew exactly where home was.  So I would spend the majority of my adult life longing for a place that quite possibly, for me anyway, doesn't exist.  I've never been able to reconcile this; not physically, and certainly not emotionally.

The closest I've come to being "Home" once moving out of my mom's house at 18 is Mobile, AL.  I had a tiny little apartment, and though not every moment there was perfect, it felt safe, and it felt like a warn welcome every time I walked through the door--no matter how good or bad things were.  It was a safe place for me to be myself, where I could decompress, where I could dream, wish, hope and feel alive.  This is not the case where I am now.  Not even close.

How did I get here?  I got here the same way I got into every bad situation in my life; By pure blind trust.  It's a flaw of mine and one that's gotten me into more trouble than I can tell you.  I give people the benefit of the doubt, take them on their word, and actually believe what they say.  Well, to a point anyway.  The thing is, that 'point' in which I pivot and see the error of my ways is usually far too late to avoid any damage to my life, and to me.

I'll probably always be this way, a far too trusting person.  I'm okay with that, I guess.  But I really wish I were better at assessing and discerning the heart and motives of people BEFORE I get involved.  We all have our flaws, I suppose.

As I wait for the sluggish process of diagnosis beyond the AIH, I'm left far too vulnerable for my liking.  There are days I can't walk well, verging on not at all, and days where lifting my arms to look at my phone is almost too much.  The weakness grows more each day and the doctors I need to see are weeks out of reach since I'll be a new patient.  The waiting is going to end me in the ER at some point, I'm afraid.  But the worst of this is being this sick and living in a place where I know absolutely no one at all.

T only helps around here bare minimum, and as the chores, etc. pile up... I long for the simplicity of the life I had in Mobile, where I didn't have to clean up after another human who refuses to do what's necessary to not live in a dirty, cluttered house.  I can't live this way, so I struggle to pick up the slack.  And I'll tell you, the slack is far far more than what T actually does.

How the hell did he survive on his own?

I have to somehow find my way home--wherever that is.  I know I can keep struggling a little bit to find my way here, to at least hang in there until I'm better---or at least better enough to survive, to move, to do something to help myself.  At this rate I don't know if I can work, which scares that crap out of me.  Disability requires a definite diagnosis, and at this time I don't have one that explains fully how I'm continuing to weaken and become more and more sick.  What can I do if even typing an entry like this makes me shaky and nauseated with weakness?

I want to be well again, to feel good again, to have energy again.  I want to be in a position where I can find my way back home again.

Home.  I just want to be... home.

"You're allergic to yourself."

Not going to be easy catching up, but I'll give it my best shot.  I spend most of my days in bed, sleeping, or waiting for tylenol to kick in and 'possibly' help with the pain.  Weakness is now stronger than my willpower, and fatigue is my constant companion.  I don't have much energy to type, or even sit at the computer long enough to.  So I'll try and get with it...

Appetite is all but gone.  Still not feeling actual hunger but increased weakness and headache that tells me I should probably eat something.  I usually have yogurt in the mornings so I can take medication, and I find myself full after just a few bites.  I've no idea why this is, why diminished appetite and early satiety is back and worse than ever.  I just know that it is.

Had my every-six-months echo on my heart about a week ago and just got results back.  I'm looking for another cardiologist at UAB, because the one I have now doesn't really discuss anything with me, especially changes.  I'm not okay with that given my family history and the other issues with my heart.

In six months time, since my last echo, my aortic valve has developed stenosis (none was found last time with echo or cath).  It had "trace" regurgitation last time, and now it's to the 'mild' level. Doesn't sound like a big deal until you realize that even this small change happened in 6 months time.  It's a watch-and-wait situation like my mitral valve issues.  Yay. Not.

You guys may remember I had a heart cath a few months ago.  This is when they found the mitral valve regurgitation had progressed.  The report had no mention of stenosis, but if there were any it may not have been worth noting perhaps (just guessing here).

So given changes, and the recommendation to now have echoes every 6 months instead of yearly, I would think the dr. would be a bit more, I don't know, forthcoming to at least explain to me about the changes and what they do or do not mean.  I sure wish Dr. Dewan was still my cardiologist... but he made a career move out of state.  Dammit.

Also went to an allergist.  Now this was the most surprising thing of all---after testing me for everything under the sun.. I'm not allergic to anything. lol  All the sneezing and sinus issues are merely seasonal changes and not from allergy.  Sounds like the same thing, but they're not at all.  This appointment was 3 hours long and with a LOT of discussion.  Doctor isn't just an allergist, he's also an immunologist.  After talking to him about everything that's been going on, the AIH etc, symptoms, etc... he spoke to me about the possibility of a Myositis problem (sounds familiar, huh?), OR Lupus.

He said, and I will quote him: "You're allergic to yourself."  We laughed about this a little, but he says that a lot of my nose and skin issues, that almost appear as allergy reactions, are most likely an autoimmune reaction.  The pink cheeks, that aren't normal for me, he says may be an indicator of Lupus as well.  Apparently, according to him and other research, Lupus is something that isn't really found during lab work via AI antibodies etc., although SOME people with lupus have that show up.  Many, most in fact, who have it don't have that show up in their blood until the disease is years progressed.

Oh, as an aside--I got a breathing treatment while at the allergist's office.  I was wheezing like crazy and the treatment helped!  I had a somewhat wet cough for a few hours, but dang... that was awesome! Not from allergy though, the wheezing and dry cough I have.  Lung issues.. yeah, there's still that.  Anyway, back to the point....

Now I have to see another rheumatologist, and an endocrinologist (because of prednisone withdrawal), and well.. that just sucks.  SO many doctor appointments.  I'm absolutely worn out.

Well, time I left this blog and attempt short entries on the others.  Honestly, my muscles are aching terribly just from typing.  When the hell will this ever get better?  :(