The First of June

I have been having lots of fun in Vermont.  My friends in Brattleboro not only fed and sheltered, they gave me lots intellectual stimulation.  My two days there were full of the invogorating discussions, witty and fastaced, that I love so much.

But now the work of putting the final touches on Natasha's final resting place have to be dealt with.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Physical Therapy

In PT today I learned that the young, cute lil southern belle with the darling accent is really possessed by the demon Pazuzu.  I realized this as she stood over me, screaming, "Are you going to cry like a little girl?  Are you my little bitch?"  while cracking her ID lanyard like a whip.  Then she vomited green bile over me.

This is the first time I ever cried in PT.

Good News

It turned out that my potentially new doctor was an even bigger tool than my present one so I decided to stay with the devil I know.  The guy took a phone call during our meeting, badgered me to hurry up, then abruptly ended the appointment, telling me to make a follow up.

Plus his office staff was really rude.

I will  say this for my present doctor, I needed to have five prescriptions refilled this week and his office got four out of the five sent to the pharmacy before they close of business.  Although, of course, all without returning any of my calls.

But, I said there was good news to be told and here it is:

I had asked for a consultation with a pain specialist and yesterday was my appointment.  I was there for three hours before I got to see her-all of that spent waiting.  The only reason I stayed that long was so I could give her a piece of my mind about leaving me waiting so long.

Anyway, I am glad I stayed.  Not only did she have some strategies to help me, she also thinks I can get along with out my AFOs!  It is going to take some therapy, time, and probably some sweat also, but WAHOOOIE!

In other news, I decided to attend the stone setting at Natasha's grave in June.  It will be nice to see Vermont, especially some dear friends there.

Second Anniversary

This is me, two years ago.  Last year I was jubilant.  Not so much this year.  I have noticed that I am continuing to get stronger (yay!) physically.  Mentally, I am struggling. I wrote some poetry last week and posted it on another blog. When I went back to reread it, I realized that I am a really angry man.  I keep thinking about those days and weeks in hospitals.  In other news, it has been a long time since my last IVIG.  That means I am going to start getting off of the Cellcept and if that goes well, Prednisone.  

And after another prescription SNAFU, I have decided to get a new doctor.  I am waiting to hear back from some one from church recommended.

Confessions-You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

I am going to share something that is really personal with my (subscribed) readers, I don't want this to appear on my facebook page because I have to associate with those people in real life and I don't want them to know.

All my life, at least since I discovered EA Poe (in second grade!), I have wanted to be a writer;  the kind of writer whose words on paper will make the reader's blood run cold in terror.  I started a new blog for that kind of content.  There will be no witty, carefully structured commentary on popular culture or delightful anecdotes about my personal growth as I strive towards acceptance of my new life as a professional invalid.

I am calling that blog Samples, although I don't know why.  I hope that some of you will take a peek at it, although there isn't much there right now. This is a very personal anecdote I wrote for here, but didn't publish because of the personal nature of it; you may not want to read it.  If you do, it has plenty of warts and I am betting your thoughts would be very constructive.

Until then, this has been stuck in my head since last Thursday's 30 Rock.

Losing a Pet

Olivia, our black cat, got out of the house last night while I was asleep and got into a fight with another animal.  She walked into the house with a slight limp, but seemed fine otherwise.  She was much worse this morning and I carefully put her in her carrier to go to Best Friends Animal Hospital.

If the thunder don't get you, then the lighting will

Tomorrow is the second anniversary of my first hospitalization and since anniversaries are significant, I haven't been able to think of little else this weekend.  I have been grieving my old like, my pre-disability life horribly;  I miss bending over to get something out of the cabinets, walking in a straight line, etc.  Lately, when I think about those early days, I am gripped with horror.

Before CIDP,  I lived my life swinging from pollyanna to panic. I spent half of my life telling myself that I would be lucky and escape the tumult and turmoil others had.  When I wasn't telling myself that, I was paranoid, crippled with fear that the opposite would turn be true.