Well, here it is. 1:00 am, and I'm wide awake. A somewhat normal state for this hour of the night. I would so love a solid night of uninterrupted sleep. I'm to have a cervical (neck) shot on Monday, so that could make a real difference. It also might help with the painkiller issue, as in, I may not need to take as much, because this shot should reduce some of the nerve pain.
So, update on the attorney situation. He has yet to respond to my last email on Wednesday. Oh, color me shocked. My advice to him? Grow the fuck up. Your clients will disagree with you. They won't like being treated like a mushroom (know how mushrooms are grown? In the dark and fed shit). They will get frustrated and angry, and take it out on you. If you don't like it, or think they should act only in a manner you deem personally appropriate, you're in the wrong profession. Get over yourself.
It's been a somewhat crazy day. I spent 6 hours on the phone with the Help Desk, before receiving the news that I really need a new tower. Since I'll be out of the office Monday and Tuesday, I'll need to go into the office on Wednesday to pick up my new tower, and have things moved from my current desktop to the new one. So, by 1:00 today, I was done with my work day. The OT I planned to work this weekend is down the drain.
So, for good news. Jason has a job! He received an offer from the utility company he's been interning at. Such great news, and quite a relief! I'm so glad he won't be one of the many college graduates facing the search for a job., He's very happy, because he really wants to work for this company. He enjoys the work, and his co-workers, and that's a large part of the work battle right there. So, he'll graduate in December, and then begin his job - well, the start date offered was for June, but that's because they thought his graduation date was May. He may be starting in January, since he graduates in December.
So, I'm watching Craig Ferguson. How much do I love that man! Although, after reading his autobiography, and watching him, I know he would drive me absolutely mental with his inability to sit still or be quiet for even 5 minutes. He's a bundle of frenetic energy - great in small doses, but I personally need someone who takes a breath once in a while.
I started watching a new L&O series - L&O:UK. Interesting to watch. I found myself having to rewind (thank God for dvr!) to listen to the actors one more time. The accents are very interesting - I'm getting very good at picking out the different accents, although I have no idea which region they're native to, or which class. I think it's fairly new, and you can see everyone trying just a bit too hard, but overall, it's fairly good. Pretty much the same as L&O Original Recipe when it first started.
Ok, time to try again to sleep. It's only 1:20, and I don't hold out much hope. Who knew I could this many painkillers, and still be wide awake?
Friday, October 15, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Sad again....
So, after a few days of feeling relatively normal, I'm back in the Pit of Despair again. Take me away, Prince Humperdink.
So, todays sadness is brought to you courtesy of my attorney, who has decided that I need a dose of reality, and has decided to smack me around a little with it (this is all figurative, you know that, right?). I'm not stressed enough, oh not enough for him. No, he's got to flame the fans of my depression by sending me emails full of passive-aggressive phrases, and insinuates that I am a "difficult" client. I suppose this is because I get frustrated by the lack of communication with him, and the constant & neverending delays of the workers compensation process, and tell him so.
Today, he told me he's beginning to think he never, ever, live up to my expectations, not because of anything he or his staff have done (shouldn't that be, haven't done?), but because of the entire workers comp system.
Really? My expectations are this: I am paying you to fight for me. To me, that means investing a little less in your "friendships", and a little more in getting your client what she needs. To me, this means, call me once in a while, email me every 2 weeks - even if all you have to say is, "no news, just checking in". It does NOT mean, take a condescending tone. It does NOT mean setting expectations, raising my hopes, only to get pissy when I hold you to those expectations. It means explaining things to me when I ask questions, taking my calls, and calling me back, especially if I have expressly asked you NOT to email me, but to call me.
So, here's reality for ya. And, I'm putting way too much info here, but... Money. I don't have enough of it. I run a little short every month, and usually have to work a few hours extra to make ends meet. This is not unusual. I'm running out of money, though, and will have to work around 10-20 hours per pay period to be able to meet my mortgage, and other bills. No big deal, right? It hurts like hell to work, but I would make myself do it.
So, here's the million dollar question. How am I going to do that after my surgery? Not after I'm healed, and returned to work. But, in the days, weeks, months, following surgery, how will I survive? How will I make the mortgage payments? Lest you think this is something new, I've been having this exact same discussion with my attorney, and paralegal, ALL YEAR LONG. They have known, ALL YEAR, that without an advance on my settlement, I probably won't be able to afford the surgery. Not a new concept, at all.
Except that, today, he acts like he's never heard it before. He's the one who mentioned it to me, long ago. He's forgotten that. Completely. So, todays message is that it is highly unlikely I'll get that advance, and there's no legal remedy because the company isn't obligated to pay. I'm on their good graces. Yeah, so I figure I have about the same chance as a snowball in Hell surviving the experience. So, in case you don't know already, I have ZERO chance. I think, morally, they are obligated.
So, I'm reading this, getting more and more upset, and panicked, and start crying. And, crying. Like, those body wracking sobs crying. I rarely cry in front of kids. Sure, I weep a little, tear up at commercials and tv shows, movies, etc... but not out and out hysterical sobbing. Broke that record today. Poor Schyler - came in, put his arms around me, and just waited it out. We talked it over, but there's really nothing he can do. He, and the others, are in school, and that's where they'll stay.
So, I've been walking around today, feeling dead and leaden. Attorney hasn't responded to my lastest email (shock and surprise, here), and I don't expect to hear from him. He expects me to go to the hearing next week - oh, so finally, I'm to go to a hearing. Not like you haven't been to several over the year, but now you want me there. It's supposed to let the commissioner know that I'm taking my case seriously.
Are you fucking kidding me??? I've been taking this thing seriously since,,, oh, that's right - when it happened! fucking morons, all of them. But, I'm back to my question - what good does it do to get an approval (and would you believe that the adjustor STILL has not issued the approval????), if I can't have the surgery anyway?
And, all this time, I'm trying to figure out what I've done to deserve any of this. Not trying to have a pity party, but I honest to God cannot figure out what I've done that would warrant all this. I don't think I'm a terrible person, but maybe I am. Clearly, I've done something, and I'd make it right, but I just don't know what it is.
So, todays sadness is brought to you courtesy of my attorney, who has decided that I need a dose of reality, and has decided to smack me around a little with it (this is all figurative, you know that, right?). I'm not stressed enough, oh not enough for him. No, he's got to flame the fans of my depression by sending me emails full of passive-aggressive phrases, and insinuates that I am a "difficult" client. I suppose this is because I get frustrated by the lack of communication with him, and the constant & neverending delays of the workers compensation process, and tell him so.
Today, he told me he's beginning to think he never, ever, live up to my expectations, not because of anything he or his staff have done (shouldn't that be, haven't done?), but because of the entire workers comp system.
Really? My expectations are this: I am paying you to fight for me. To me, that means investing a little less in your "friendships", and a little more in getting your client what she needs. To me, this means, call me once in a while, email me every 2 weeks - even if all you have to say is, "no news, just checking in". It does NOT mean, take a condescending tone. It does NOT mean setting expectations, raising my hopes, only to get pissy when I hold you to those expectations. It means explaining things to me when I ask questions, taking my calls, and calling me back, especially if I have expressly asked you NOT to email me, but to call me.
So, here's reality for ya. And, I'm putting way too much info here, but... Money. I don't have enough of it. I run a little short every month, and usually have to work a few hours extra to make ends meet. This is not unusual. I'm running out of money, though, and will have to work around 10-20 hours per pay period to be able to meet my mortgage, and other bills. No big deal, right? It hurts like hell to work, but I would make myself do it.
So, here's the million dollar question. How am I going to do that after my surgery? Not after I'm healed, and returned to work. But, in the days, weeks, months, following surgery, how will I survive? How will I make the mortgage payments? Lest you think this is something new, I've been having this exact same discussion with my attorney, and paralegal, ALL YEAR LONG. They have known, ALL YEAR, that without an advance on my settlement, I probably won't be able to afford the surgery. Not a new concept, at all.
Except that, today, he acts like he's never heard it before. He's the one who mentioned it to me, long ago. He's forgotten that. Completely. So, todays message is that it is highly unlikely I'll get that advance, and there's no legal remedy because the company isn't obligated to pay. I'm on their good graces. Yeah, so I figure I have about the same chance as a snowball in Hell surviving the experience. So, in case you don't know already, I have ZERO chance. I think, morally, they are obligated.
So, I'm reading this, getting more and more upset, and panicked, and start crying. And, crying. Like, those body wracking sobs crying. I rarely cry in front of kids. Sure, I weep a little, tear up at commercials and tv shows, movies, etc... but not out and out hysterical sobbing. Broke that record today. Poor Schyler - came in, put his arms around me, and just waited it out. We talked it over, but there's really nothing he can do. He, and the others, are in school, and that's where they'll stay.
So, I've been walking around today, feeling dead and leaden. Attorney hasn't responded to my lastest email (shock and surprise, here), and I don't expect to hear from him. He expects me to go to the hearing next week - oh, so finally, I'm to go to a hearing. Not like you haven't been to several over the year, but now you want me there. It's supposed to let the commissioner know that I'm taking my case seriously.
Are you fucking kidding me??? I've been taking this thing seriously since,,, oh, that's right - when it happened! fucking morons, all of them. But, I'm back to my question - what good does it do to get an approval (and would you believe that the adjustor STILL has not issued the approval????), if I can't have the surgery anyway?
And, all this time, I'm trying to figure out what I've done to deserve any of this. Not trying to have a pity party, but I honest to God cannot figure out what I've done that would warrant all this. I don't think I'm a terrible person, but maybe I am. Clearly, I've done something, and I'd make it right, but I just don't know what it is.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Just another whine.... nothing new
The good news is I made through my entire work day. The bad news is that, predictably, I'm in a lot of pain.
After leaving work early for the past 2 days, I made myself tough it all day today. I'm not being a hero, but I will admit I feel a huge amount of guilt when I leave early. I know it's the best thing for my body, and that I'm probably doing more harm than good by staying, but that stupid little voice in my head says, "if you just tried a little harder, you could do this. Maybe you're giving in too soon. Just another hour, 1/2 hour, whatever". It sounds stupid, I know.
So, I stayed at work, and let it distract me. Plenty to get involved in, even if the luster is off the work, and boredom has set in. I very glad to have a new manager - she seems very empathetic. Today, we were speaking, and she told me she has new insight to what I'm going through, having watched her boyfriend go through something similar. The good news for him is that he's had his surgery, and is feeling much better already. While I.... I just wait.
I resent having to chase down my attorney for an update. 2 weeks, I'm told. Last Wednesday, I was told HIG requested a formal hearing in 2 weeks. I don't know about anyone else, but 2 weeks means 14 days to me. Apparently, 2 weeks has an entirely different meaning to everyone in the workers compensation system. Apparently, it means, let's fuck around and keep the injured employee waiting a while longer.
So, I get this update today that my attorney still has not received notice of the hearing. Seriously, people? I'm not the most important person in the world, nor am I indispensable, but I have a lot of people asking me questions, and inviting me to meetings. I've accepted my meeting invitations, and I hope I don't have to cancel, or reschedule, or I am going to be majorly pissed off. People are counting on me.
Ok, moving on to the next part of the email. Seems the paralegal is a step behind. My attorney told me in the email last week that my leave will be paid at current rate of pay (won't even begin to attempt to explain this - other than say, good news for me, but what a clusterfuck). So, that same day finds me completing some kind of tax form, which asks for my filing status and number of dependents in 2002. I question this in my return email to her, although I complete the form. I tell her that in 2002, I was married, and that I divorced in 2005, however, if she's interested, in 2009 I filed head of household with 4 dependents.
So, today, what does she ask for? Oh yes, that would be my current filing status. You know, the one I gave her last week. I really like this woman, I really do, but stuff like this pisses me off. I don't appreciate giving the same information over and over.
Anyway, I made it to the end of my day, and then had to go to the grocery store. I had asked Schyler for help, but he wasn't available. When I got back, I took a pill. I wish these things would work faster, though. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed and fragile.
After leaving work early for the past 2 days, I made myself tough it all day today. I'm not being a hero, but I will admit I feel a huge amount of guilt when I leave early. I know it's the best thing for my body, and that I'm probably doing more harm than good by staying, but that stupid little voice in my head says, "if you just tried a little harder, you could do this. Maybe you're giving in too soon. Just another hour, 1/2 hour, whatever". It sounds stupid, I know.
So, I stayed at work, and let it distract me. Plenty to get involved in, even if the luster is off the work, and boredom has set in. I very glad to have a new manager - she seems very empathetic. Today, we were speaking, and she told me she has new insight to what I'm going through, having watched her boyfriend go through something similar. The good news for him is that he's had his surgery, and is feeling much better already. While I.... I just wait.
I resent having to chase down my attorney for an update. 2 weeks, I'm told. Last Wednesday, I was told HIG requested a formal hearing in 2 weeks. I don't know about anyone else, but 2 weeks means 14 days to me. Apparently, 2 weeks has an entirely different meaning to everyone in the workers compensation system. Apparently, it means, let's fuck around and keep the injured employee waiting a while longer.
So, I get this update today that my attorney still has not received notice of the hearing. Seriously, people? I'm not the most important person in the world, nor am I indispensable, but I have a lot of people asking me questions, and inviting me to meetings. I've accepted my meeting invitations, and I hope I don't have to cancel, or reschedule, or I am going to be majorly pissed off. People are counting on me.
Ok, moving on to the next part of the email. Seems the paralegal is a step behind. My attorney told me in the email last week that my leave will be paid at current rate of pay (won't even begin to attempt to explain this - other than say, good news for me, but what a clusterfuck). So, that same day finds me completing some kind of tax form, which asks for my filing status and number of dependents in 2002. I question this in my return email to her, although I complete the form. I tell her that in 2002, I was married, and that I divorced in 2005, however, if she's interested, in 2009 I filed head of household with 4 dependents.
So, today, what does she ask for? Oh yes, that would be my current filing status. You know, the one I gave her last week. I really like this woman, I really do, but stuff like this pisses me off. I don't appreciate giving the same information over and over.
Anyway, I made it to the end of my day, and then had to go to the grocery store. I had asked Schyler for help, but he wasn't available. When I got back, I took a pill. I wish these things would work faster, though. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed and fragile.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Stuff from the news
So, Steven Hayes was convicted today on 16 out of 17 counts against him. He had been willing to plead guilty of all the crimes he was charged with, but because they were capital crimes, eligible for the death penalty, the state can't/won't let him plead guilty.
So, instead, we have this colossal waste of time, energy, and money of a trial. By the way, if the verdict wasn't a foregone conclusion for you, you really had to be under a rock, or one hell of a bleeding heart liberal. I feel badly for Dr Petit, but seriously? The trial was a farce.
What really gets me, though, is the rabid fervor for death that the public has. I'm on the fence about the death penalty - on the one hand, it's a hell of a deterrent, at least for the guy who dies, and if you're absolutely certain you've got the right guy, it could be the right thing. On the other hand, there have been cases where the death penalty has been carried out, and we find out later the guy didn't actually do the crime. The evidence was just stacked against him.
As far as Steven Hayes is concerned, I don't think we should kill him. He wants to die. Why give him what he wants? If there is any chance at all he'll obtain peace upon death, I want to deny it to him. I want him to have the same "mercy" he gave that family. Which is to say, none at all. Give him a small room, lights on constantly, no reading material, no tv, no human interaction. Let him be tortured by wanting to die, yet not being able to achieve that. If he tries to starve himself, hook him up and force feed him.
Just don't give him what he wants.
So, instead, we have this colossal waste of time, energy, and money of a trial. By the way, if the verdict wasn't a foregone conclusion for you, you really had to be under a rock, or one hell of a bleeding heart liberal. I feel badly for Dr Petit, but seriously? The trial was a farce.
What really gets me, though, is the rabid fervor for death that the public has. I'm on the fence about the death penalty - on the one hand, it's a hell of a deterrent, at least for the guy who dies, and if you're absolutely certain you've got the right guy, it could be the right thing. On the other hand, there have been cases where the death penalty has been carried out, and we find out later the guy didn't actually do the crime. The evidence was just stacked against him.
As far as Steven Hayes is concerned, I don't think we should kill him. He wants to die. Why give him what he wants? If there is any chance at all he'll obtain peace upon death, I want to deny it to him. I want him to have the same "mercy" he gave that family. Which is to say, none at all. Give him a small room, lights on constantly, no reading material, no tv, no human interaction. Let him be tortured by wanting to die, yet not being able to achieve that. If he tries to starve himself, hook him up and force feed him.
Just don't give him what he wants.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Family
So, I'm the youngest of 5 children. My siblings are 10, 8, 6, and 4 years older than me. I am not the doted upon younger sister, oh no. I am the "why did you have to be born and ruin all our lives" sister. I'm the one who ruined all their happy, joyful, lives. If not for me, my sister would have been able to listen to her Beatles records all the time, and she wouldn't have been stuck babysitting all the time when she wanted to have fun. My brother said I was too ugly to be in his wedding (1977).
I can't seem to remember a time in my life when I didn't feel like an unwanted appendage. My parents were pretty tired by the time I hit my teens. I'm sure I wasn't the easiest child to manage - I believe I had ADHD (undiagnosed, of course, who even thought of THAT in the 60's?). On the other hand, I had my parents pretty much to myself all throughout high school. Sure, just when you want your parents around. I was a fat, unhappy, child and teen, with a gap in my teeth, and ugly, unmanageable hair.
I don't remember my parents being supportive during high school, when I "managed" the men's soccer team. They didn't want to go to the awards dinner in my senior year, so I didn't get to go. I didn't know it until after, but I had been given a special award by the coaches for my assistance - but, I wasn't there to receive it. When I presented my Senior Thesis in college, and we could invite guests, my parents declined to come. It was a little awkward to be the only student presenting who didn't have family in the room. No party for graduation, so you can imagine how it stung a little when, nearly 30 years later, my mother threw my sister a party for obtaining yet another degree.
I won't make this a lengthy diatribe about my childhood - it was what it was, and I can't change it. Throughout the year, until just recently, though, I was convinced that if anything really serious happened to any of us, the others would forget past differences, and pull together. I really, naively, thought this.
Not any more.
Recently, my brother was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and had surgery on 9/15. I assume all went well, since no one has called to say differently. Yes, not even my mother. My mother, who can't seem to remember that I, too, will have what I consider to be a very serious surgery. I've told her 3 times, but every time I mention it, she asks, now what's this for? And, when I remind her, she says, you've never told me this before.
I heard from my sister, via facebook, after I had a conversation with my mother, during which I asked if she'd come up and help care for me after my surgery. I received this email, which said something about wanting my phone number, as mom had told her some convoluted story about my surgery. I responded with my phone number, but asked her, if she was just going to call and lecture me about asking our mother to help me, not to bother piling on. Emotionally, mentally, physically - I'm at the end of my rope. I'm depressed more often than happy, and I really don't need the verbal beatdown my sister is so good at. I also sent her the link for the surgery I'm to have.
Her response was a very lukewarm, "gee that's too bad, and I can put you on our prayer list". I still don't know what to say to that, and said so. Again - "well, I can't do anything for you, but I can listen". I truly fail to understand this.
Hmmm, you have degrees in medicine. How long were you a nurse? How often have you worked in hospitals? Isn't your degree something to do with CCU? You have no words of comfort? Couldn't even acknowledge that I might be scared, and offer recognition that I'm alone? Oh, that's right, I forgot. I deserved to have my husband leave me - oh yes, I was a horrible wife.
Why I expected anything else, I just don't know. It seems my very birth, as well as the fact that I'm 10 years younger, and was in a different "place" in my life when she divorced her 2nd husband will always be held against me. As will the record player and Puff the Magic Dragon.
I feel sorry for my mother most of the time. She really wants the 5 of us to get along. She wants the 5 of us to get together at holidays, and enjoy each other. Several years ago, I flat out refused. I apologized, but really? Why should I go to a family dinner, and be treated like an outcast? It's not like anyone talks to me. My middle sister and brothers talk to each other. They'll talk to my oldest sister. When I try to strike up a conversation, no one hears me.
I feel very fortunate, blessed, if you will, to have my friends. They mean more to me than the people related to me by accident of birth. They restore my faith in humanity, and make me think maybe... just maybe... I'm not the awful, life wrecking, sewer rat my family believes I am.
I can't seem to remember a time in my life when I didn't feel like an unwanted appendage. My parents were pretty tired by the time I hit my teens. I'm sure I wasn't the easiest child to manage - I believe I had ADHD (undiagnosed, of course, who even thought of THAT in the 60's?). On the other hand, I had my parents pretty much to myself all throughout high school. Sure, just when you want your parents around. I was a fat, unhappy, child and teen, with a gap in my teeth, and ugly, unmanageable hair.
I don't remember my parents being supportive during high school, when I "managed" the men's soccer team. They didn't want to go to the awards dinner in my senior year, so I didn't get to go. I didn't know it until after, but I had been given a special award by the coaches for my assistance - but, I wasn't there to receive it. When I presented my Senior Thesis in college, and we could invite guests, my parents declined to come. It was a little awkward to be the only student presenting who didn't have family in the room. No party for graduation, so you can imagine how it stung a little when, nearly 30 years later, my mother threw my sister a party for obtaining yet another degree.
I won't make this a lengthy diatribe about my childhood - it was what it was, and I can't change it. Throughout the year, until just recently, though, I was convinced that if anything really serious happened to any of us, the others would forget past differences, and pull together. I really, naively, thought this.
Not any more.
Recently, my brother was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and had surgery on 9/15. I assume all went well, since no one has called to say differently. Yes, not even my mother. My mother, who can't seem to remember that I, too, will have what I consider to be a very serious surgery. I've told her 3 times, but every time I mention it, she asks, now what's this for? And, when I remind her, she says, you've never told me this before.
I heard from my sister, via facebook, after I had a conversation with my mother, during which I asked if she'd come up and help care for me after my surgery. I received this email, which said something about wanting my phone number, as mom had told her some convoluted story about my surgery. I responded with my phone number, but asked her, if she was just going to call and lecture me about asking our mother to help me, not to bother piling on. Emotionally, mentally, physically - I'm at the end of my rope. I'm depressed more often than happy, and I really don't need the verbal beatdown my sister is so good at. I also sent her the link for the surgery I'm to have.
Her response was a very lukewarm, "gee that's too bad, and I can put you on our prayer list". I still don't know what to say to that, and said so. Again - "well, I can't do anything for you, but I can listen". I truly fail to understand this.
Hmmm, you have degrees in medicine. How long were you a nurse? How often have you worked in hospitals? Isn't your degree something to do with CCU? You have no words of comfort? Couldn't even acknowledge that I might be scared, and offer recognition that I'm alone? Oh, that's right, I forgot. I deserved to have my husband leave me - oh yes, I was a horrible wife.
Why I expected anything else, I just don't know. It seems my very birth, as well as the fact that I'm 10 years younger, and was in a different "place" in my life when she divorced her 2nd husband will always be held against me. As will the record player and Puff the Magic Dragon.
I feel sorry for my mother most of the time. She really wants the 5 of us to get along. She wants the 5 of us to get together at holidays, and enjoy each other. Several years ago, I flat out refused. I apologized, but really? Why should I go to a family dinner, and be treated like an outcast? It's not like anyone talks to me. My middle sister and brothers talk to each other. They'll talk to my oldest sister. When I try to strike up a conversation, no one hears me.
I feel very fortunate, blessed, if you will, to have my friends. They mean more to me than the people related to me by accident of birth. They restore my faith in humanity, and make me think maybe... just maybe... I'm not the awful, life wrecking, sewer rat my family believes I am.
The Big E
So, friend JL and I went to the Big E last Wednesday. What a blast! I haven't been to the Big E in about 25 years, so when JL called and asked if I wanted to go, I said sure!
Our first stop was the New Hampshire building, which was pretty crowded. Well, all the buildings were - it was the first nice day that week. We had a baked potato at the Maine building, topped with shredded cheese, chives, and pulled pork, sour cream on the side (for me!). After that, the Connecticut building, where we saw many things I was familiar with (and bought a few little Christmas gag gifts).
Oh, I also had my very first lobster roll in the Maine building. It was pretty good, but I probably won't have another. For me, lobster should be warm/hot, and it should never be on a hot dog roll! LOLOL Each building was pretty interesting, and the vendors were very pleasant.
After all the buildings, we took a break on one of the benches, and chatted. JL is very patient with me - she never seems to be impatient with the number of breaks I take while walking, or that I had to take pain pills to get through the day. She's a great friend - smart, funny, witty, sarcastic, and a great outlook on life.
Next stop was the building with the Clydesdales! OH MY GOD, those horses are so huge, and so beautiful! They're my favorite breed of horse, so big, yet so graceful. We saw them in the parade, all done up in the harnesses, manes and tails with ribbons, and they were just so smart-looking and beautiful. We hung out there for a bit, then headed off to the Young Building, where there was booth after booth of vendors, all selling different things.
While in the Better Living building, (actually, when leaving it), I heard someone call my name. My married name!! I looked up, and there she was - Marie Barker! Marie used to work for my company, but left around 11 years ago. We tried to keep in touch, but you know how things can go. Anyway, she has 2 beautiful daughters now, and we've exchanged phone numbers, so I'm hoping we'll be better at keeping in touch now. It was so great to see her! She looks wonderful, and clearly enjoys her daughters.
Food - baked potato, lobster roll, fresh lemonade, fried oreos, funnel cake, cotton candy... I'm pretty sure I'm forgetting something!! Everything was very good - including the oreos, which surprised me, because it just sounds gross.
We saw the parade several times, and at one point, I got to walk next to the Clydesdales, who outdistanced me in no time! I tried to get a pic of me next to one, but the little breaks weren't long enough for a pic. However... I did notice, when standing next to one, that my head did not reach the top of his shoulder!! EEK!
We left a little after 6 - the line to get in was ridiculously long by that time. I hope next year to be done with all the surgeries, and be able to have an even better time. I think any rides will still be out of the question, but there are a ton of things to see and do without the rides.
Next up (not posting, but activities) - Lake Compounce and the Haunted Graveyard. I don't think I'm actually going to get to walk the graveyard this year, but I'm going to go with the group, just for the fun of being with them. We always have a great time, and it gives me something to look forward to.
Our first stop was the New Hampshire building, which was pretty crowded. Well, all the buildings were - it was the first nice day that week. We had a baked potato at the Maine building, topped with shredded cheese, chives, and pulled pork, sour cream on the side (for me!). After that, the Connecticut building, where we saw many things I was familiar with (and bought a few little Christmas gag gifts).
Oh, I also had my very first lobster roll in the Maine building. It was pretty good, but I probably won't have another. For me, lobster should be warm/hot, and it should never be on a hot dog roll! LOLOL Each building was pretty interesting, and the vendors were very pleasant.
After all the buildings, we took a break on one of the benches, and chatted. JL is very patient with me - she never seems to be impatient with the number of breaks I take while walking, or that I had to take pain pills to get through the day. She's a great friend - smart, funny, witty, sarcastic, and a great outlook on life.
Next stop was the building with the Clydesdales! OH MY GOD, those horses are so huge, and so beautiful! They're my favorite breed of horse, so big, yet so graceful. We saw them in the parade, all done up in the harnesses, manes and tails with ribbons, and they were just so smart-looking and beautiful. We hung out there for a bit, then headed off to the Young Building, where there was booth after booth of vendors, all selling different things.
While in the Better Living building, (actually, when leaving it), I heard someone call my name. My married name!! I looked up, and there she was - Marie Barker! Marie used to work for my company, but left around 11 years ago. We tried to keep in touch, but you know how things can go. Anyway, she has 2 beautiful daughters now, and we've exchanged phone numbers, so I'm hoping we'll be better at keeping in touch now. It was so great to see her! She looks wonderful, and clearly enjoys her daughters.
Food - baked potato, lobster roll, fresh lemonade, fried oreos, funnel cake, cotton candy... I'm pretty sure I'm forgetting something!! Everything was very good - including the oreos, which surprised me, because it just sounds gross.
We saw the parade several times, and at one point, I got to walk next to the Clydesdales, who outdistanced me in no time! I tried to get a pic of me next to one, but the little breaks weren't long enough for a pic. However... I did notice, when standing next to one, that my head did not reach the top of his shoulder!! EEK!
We left a little after 6 - the line to get in was ridiculously long by that time. I hope next year to be done with all the surgeries, and be able to have an even better time. I think any rides will still be out of the question, but there are a ton of things to see and do without the rides.
Next up (not posting, but activities) - Lake Compounce and the Haunted Graveyard. I don't think I'm actually going to get to walk the graveyard this year, but I'm going to go with the group, just for the fun of being with them. We always have a great time, and it gives me something to look forward to.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
No Good Time goes Unpunished...
I had 3 really good days, all in a row! I can't tell you how excited about that I am. But, as the saying goes (slightly paraphrased), no good time goes unpunished.
I had plans with my friend, EM, a wonderful friend from my college days. I haven't seen EM in about 25 years, but it was like there was no time in between. We went to see Spamalot, which was great! and had a rollicking time just laughing, singing along, and then, going out to dinner at a Mexican restaurant around the corner from my house. EM is living in Massachusetts now, so she spent the night at my house.
When we got home, Shannon was home, and I was very glad to see her. She turned 20 over the weekend, and she was home so we could take her to lunch, and give her her presents. As a joke, I gave her a Snuggie, college edition. She tore off the wrapping paper, took one look at the box, and said, "you WOULD get me a Snuggie!!!", and we laughed. She's already washed it, and taken it back to school with her! LOL In case you don't know, a Snuggie is really just a blanket with sleeves - the commercials for it are hilarious, and there a couple of spoofs about it (the best is at college humor dot com). I also gave her a few giraffe items for her collection.
On Saturday, we all went to the Cheesecake Factory, including EM. The kids really like her, and she ended up giving them new insight to me. Of course, they are still working on seeing me as a person, not just Mom, so they love it when friends (especially friends who knew me in college) come to visit.
Anyway, we ordered about 5 different appetizers to share - all were very good, if a bit predictable. I had garlic noodles, which (truth be told) needed more garlic, and Shannon had the crispy chicken. Everyone else had some kind of burger. We were stuffed from the lunch and appetizers, so we all ordered cheesecake to go. Afterwards, we said goodbye to EM and Shannon - both having other plans for the afternoon/evening.
We got home, and started relaxing. I felt really good from Thursday till Sunday. Yes, I was still in a good amount of pain - I always am - but, seeing friends, and laughing, really helped me feel better.
Today, though. Today was quite another story. I woke up in a good mood, determined to Get Things Done. Showered - and that's when I got the first inkling things were not going to go well. I ignored it, though, and worked through my routine. Drying my hair was enough to bring tears to my eyes, so I sat down for a while to let things calm down.
Schyler was already at work, and Jason & Jenn went out for bagels, so I had a few minutes to try to gather myself together. I knew, when Jason & Jenn got back with breakfast, that I was in trouble. No appetite. That's usually a bad sign. I forced myself to eat, though, thinking I would feel better. They eventually took off for apple picking, and I decided to go to a local farm for some produce.
The drive was agony. I got there, got my fruits and veggies, and drove to the store where Schyler works to pick up a few last items. By the time I got home, I could hardly walk. This is the weirdest part, for me. There is nothing wrong with my lower back, hips, or legs, but the act of walking jars my upper body so much, that I walk very slowly and carefully, trying not to joggle anything. I left almost everything in the car, and got inside, where I completely broke down.
It's so not fair! I'd been having such great days - I know endorphins helped a lot, but it seemed like my body said, ok, enough, and slammed me with pain. The rest of today has been pretty bad. I've tried to eat a few times, with little success. I finally took a pain pill (I know, too little, too late), and feel slightly better.
I will be seeing my doctor on Tuesday, and we will be discussing pain meds, and other treatments. There's no word on approval for my surgery, or the money I need to cover expenses while I'm laid up, or, God Forbid, I can't get back to work in 8 weeks. If I'm out longer than 8 weeks, my pay goes to 70% - really can't afford that. I'm going to talk to my doctor about changing my pain meds - I need something stronger, 'cause the vicodin just isn't cutting it. Don't know what my options are, though.
Well, I've got to try to get some sleep now. I was lucky to get 5 hours in a row both Thursday night and Friday night. I usually wake up every hour or so, needing to find another position that will be temporarily comfortable, or to try to "wake up" my arm or hand. I have to work tomorrow, and I can't say I'm looking forward to it.
I had plans with my friend, EM, a wonderful friend from my college days. I haven't seen EM in about 25 years, but it was like there was no time in between. We went to see Spamalot, which was great! and had a rollicking time just laughing, singing along, and then, going out to dinner at a Mexican restaurant around the corner from my house. EM is living in Massachusetts now, so she spent the night at my house.
When we got home, Shannon was home, and I was very glad to see her. She turned 20 over the weekend, and she was home so we could take her to lunch, and give her her presents. As a joke, I gave her a Snuggie, college edition. She tore off the wrapping paper, took one look at the box, and said, "you WOULD get me a Snuggie!!!", and we laughed. She's already washed it, and taken it back to school with her! LOL In case you don't know, a Snuggie is really just a blanket with sleeves - the commercials for it are hilarious, and there a couple of spoofs about it (the best is at college humor dot com). I also gave her a few giraffe items for her collection.
On Saturday, we all went to the Cheesecake Factory, including EM. The kids really like her, and she ended up giving them new insight to me. Of course, they are still working on seeing me as a person, not just Mom, so they love it when friends (especially friends who knew me in college) come to visit.
Anyway, we ordered about 5 different appetizers to share - all were very good, if a bit predictable. I had garlic noodles, which (truth be told) needed more garlic, and Shannon had the crispy chicken. Everyone else had some kind of burger. We were stuffed from the lunch and appetizers, so we all ordered cheesecake to go. Afterwards, we said goodbye to EM and Shannon - both having other plans for the afternoon/evening.
We got home, and started relaxing. I felt really good from Thursday till Sunday. Yes, I was still in a good amount of pain - I always am - but, seeing friends, and laughing, really helped me feel better.
Today, though. Today was quite another story. I woke up in a good mood, determined to Get Things Done. Showered - and that's when I got the first inkling things were not going to go well. I ignored it, though, and worked through my routine. Drying my hair was enough to bring tears to my eyes, so I sat down for a while to let things calm down.
Schyler was already at work, and Jason & Jenn went out for bagels, so I had a few minutes to try to gather myself together. I knew, when Jason & Jenn got back with breakfast, that I was in trouble. No appetite. That's usually a bad sign. I forced myself to eat, though, thinking I would feel better. They eventually took off for apple picking, and I decided to go to a local farm for some produce.
The drive was agony. I got there, got my fruits and veggies, and drove to the store where Schyler works to pick up a few last items. By the time I got home, I could hardly walk. This is the weirdest part, for me. There is nothing wrong with my lower back, hips, or legs, but the act of walking jars my upper body so much, that I walk very slowly and carefully, trying not to joggle anything. I left almost everything in the car, and got inside, where I completely broke down.
It's so not fair! I'd been having such great days - I know endorphins helped a lot, but it seemed like my body said, ok, enough, and slammed me with pain. The rest of today has been pretty bad. I've tried to eat a few times, with little success. I finally took a pain pill (I know, too little, too late), and feel slightly better.
I will be seeing my doctor on Tuesday, and we will be discussing pain meds, and other treatments. There's no word on approval for my surgery, or the money I need to cover expenses while I'm laid up, or, God Forbid, I can't get back to work in 8 weeks. If I'm out longer than 8 weeks, my pay goes to 70% - really can't afford that. I'm going to talk to my doctor about changing my pain meds - I need something stronger, 'cause the vicodin just isn't cutting it. Don't know what my options are, though.
Well, I've got to try to get some sleep now. I was lucky to get 5 hours in a row both Thursday night and Friday night. I usually wake up every hour or so, needing to find another position that will be temporarily comfortable, or to try to "wake up" my arm or hand. I have to work tomorrow, and I can't say I'm looking forward to it.
Monday, September 13, 2010
UGH
I've had better days. In fact, the past few days haven't been the best. Not only am I in a great deal of pain, I'm very depressed (not new), and my belly hurts. I get hungry, but I eat about 2-3 bites, and I'm not hungry anymore. I seriously think all this stress is really causing my body to break down even further.
Work has been making me crazy. I'm so bored, and feel so trapped. It's the same thing, over and over again, and nothing ever changes. I feel like Sisyphus - every day, I push the rock up the hill. Every night, it rolls back down, and I have to do the same pointless exercise again the next day. The same stupid and pointless questions every day, from people who make no attempt to retain the information. They believe I have nothing better to do, that I DO NOTHING but sit by the phone or email, breathlessly awaiting the opportunity to do something for them. Too many people I come into contact with every day refuse to think, or learn, about anything outside their precious little area.
Yet, because of this impending surgery, I feel like I can't post for a new job, or even search for something outside the company. I'm angry, depressed, and frustrated. I have no reasonable outlet for all these feelings, either.
Most days, I just want to lie on my bed and do nothing. Just sleep. And cry. Moving is torture. It's an effort to be pleasant. I don't even want to talk to my FWB anymore - and that just plain scares me.
There's a hearing scheduled on the 29th. I'm fairly certain there will be some movement towards the surgery. It seems to have been approved, but the comp adjustor has yet to tell my attorney, or send the letter of approval. Apparently, my company's attorney knows it, and the adjustor knows it, they just haven't bothered to send anything in writing. It feels like it does no good for my to have my own attorney - I don't hear from him, and I see no real efforts here. Just a lot of empty words and promises. Thank God this is contigency payment only. Of course, I have the option to shop around for another attorney, which I have seriously considered. I need to find someone who will be a shark, and have less apparent concern for the old boys club and maintaining his friendships.
It's wrong to do this to a person, and all these people should be held accountable. I wonder if sending a letter to the new CEO of my company would do any good. I wonder if he'd see this as an example of incredibly poor customer service, and a really shitty way to treat a good employee. I'm going to give this more thought, and possibly start composing a letter. Why not? It might be cathartic.
Work has been making me crazy. I'm so bored, and feel so trapped. It's the same thing, over and over again, and nothing ever changes. I feel like Sisyphus - every day, I push the rock up the hill. Every night, it rolls back down, and I have to do the same pointless exercise again the next day. The same stupid and pointless questions every day, from people who make no attempt to retain the information. They believe I have nothing better to do, that I DO NOTHING but sit by the phone or email, breathlessly awaiting the opportunity to do something for them. Too many people I come into contact with every day refuse to think, or learn, about anything outside their precious little area.
Yet, because of this impending surgery, I feel like I can't post for a new job, or even search for something outside the company. I'm angry, depressed, and frustrated. I have no reasonable outlet for all these feelings, either.
Most days, I just want to lie on my bed and do nothing. Just sleep. And cry. Moving is torture. It's an effort to be pleasant. I don't even want to talk to my FWB anymore - and that just plain scares me.
There's a hearing scheduled on the 29th. I'm fairly certain there will be some movement towards the surgery. It seems to have been approved, but the comp adjustor has yet to tell my attorney, or send the letter of approval. Apparently, my company's attorney knows it, and the adjustor knows it, they just haven't bothered to send anything in writing. It feels like it does no good for my to have my own attorney - I don't hear from him, and I see no real efforts here. Just a lot of empty words and promises. Thank God this is contigency payment only. Of course, I have the option to shop around for another attorney, which I have seriously considered. I need to find someone who will be a shark, and have less apparent concern for the old boys club and maintaining his friendships.
It's wrong to do this to a person, and all these people should be held accountable. I wonder if sending a letter to the new CEO of my company would do any good. I wonder if he'd see this as an example of incredibly poor customer service, and a really shitty way to treat a good employee. I'm going to give this more thought, and possibly start composing a letter. Why not? It might be cathartic.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Catching Up...
Quite a lot has happened over the past few weeks....
I left off at the Ren Faire - I really should have finished that story, but don't, and didn't, have the energy. Weirdly, though, I have the energy for this.
So, most of August was spent getting people ready for returning, or starting, college. SJ, who had failed his first drivers test, passed his 2nd test on the 18th. We are happy!! My ex had bought him a car (a whole 'nuther post!), and so he's had his own transportation.
The same day, we went to his college to check his financial aid and sign him up for classes. The great news is that he's totally covered for financial aid - he needs no loans!! woot! And, he'll get some money back. So, he's purchased all his books, and is now waiting for reimbursement. He's got his classes scheduled for Tuesdays and Thursdays, leaving the other days free for working and doing homework and projects. I'm pretty happy with this schedule. Also happy that he's going to the North Haven campus, and not the New Haven campus of this school.
S, who has worked her butt off all summer, finished the last bit of her pre-return to school shopping, and we moved her into her dorm on the 28th. This was so NOT drama free!
First, there was the roommate issue, which has actually been an issue since the housing lottery started earlier this year. She's in a trio, with her best friend from high school, and another girl she went to high school with. That girl (let's call her BFJ - btw, BF does NOT stand for Best Friend) suddenly decided she didn't want to room with S. After the room was chosen. After the time to sort stuff out was past. This was worked out, at least until right before school started, when BFJ decided, no, she didn't want to buy the rug as agreed. Too much trouble, and she didn't want to have to bother with cleaning it. S and the other roommate have worked that out.
Next was the crying. S really isn't a crier, but that girl has cried all summer. She's had a lot of boyfriend drama all summer (and, I am thrilled to report, as of this writing, he is her EX!), resulting in many tears. This, however, was different. I think the stress of moving in, and the issues with her roommates, got to her right before I left. She began crying outside the restaurant where we had lunch - she told me it was because I was leaving. Awww. Many quick hugs, kisses on the hair, and I left. Like daycare, or the first day of school, I believe it's best for the parents to GO - the kids will be fine. Plus, she has her car - if she's really that miserable, she can get home for a visit.
Day after move in - boyfriend is back from vacation, and moving in. But does not want to see S. Boyfriend is a stupid git I stopped liking in May. There was an argument - I do not know details, but S tells me she marched herself over to his dorm, and broke up with him in person. I'm so proud of her!!! No texting break up for her, oh no!
Next day - parking ticket. Not a good 36 or so hours for S.
J is back at school. Additional good news - he's working at his internship job 12 hours a week. The intership was supposed to end 8/20, but they loved him so much (awwww) that they worked to keep him on. I'm so proud of him. So, 12 hours at the intership (paid, by the way), 12 hours at work study job, 18 hours of credits (which includes his independent study). Busy guy.
I celebrated my first anniversary of working from home on Aug 1 - I can't believe it's been an entire year since I worked in the office. And, I have to say, I'm still happy. Yes, there are many days when I wish I had someone to chat with, but the pros so outweight the cons here, that I just can't be sad.
I want to write about friendships, too, but that's another post altogether -- and I did say I'd try to separate my thoughts. A wise friend (looking at YOU, LA!) warned me about brain dumping, but I'm going to indulge anyway. :)
I left off at the Ren Faire - I really should have finished that story, but don't, and didn't, have the energy. Weirdly, though, I have the energy for this.
So, most of August was spent getting people ready for returning, or starting, college. SJ, who had failed his first drivers test, passed his 2nd test on the 18th. We are happy!! My ex had bought him a car (a whole 'nuther post!), and so he's had his own transportation.
The same day, we went to his college to check his financial aid and sign him up for classes. The great news is that he's totally covered for financial aid - he needs no loans!! woot! And, he'll get some money back. So, he's purchased all his books, and is now waiting for reimbursement. He's got his classes scheduled for Tuesdays and Thursdays, leaving the other days free for working and doing homework and projects. I'm pretty happy with this schedule. Also happy that he's going to the North Haven campus, and not the New Haven campus of this school.
S, who has worked her butt off all summer, finished the last bit of her pre-return to school shopping, and we moved her into her dorm on the 28th. This was so NOT drama free!
First, there was the roommate issue, which has actually been an issue since the housing lottery started earlier this year. She's in a trio, with her best friend from high school, and another girl she went to high school with. That girl (let's call her BFJ - btw, BF does NOT stand for Best Friend) suddenly decided she didn't want to room with S. After the room was chosen. After the time to sort stuff out was past. This was worked out, at least until right before school started, when BFJ decided, no, she didn't want to buy the rug as agreed. Too much trouble, and she didn't want to have to bother with cleaning it. S and the other roommate have worked that out.
Next was the crying. S really isn't a crier, but that girl has cried all summer. She's had a lot of boyfriend drama all summer (and, I am thrilled to report, as of this writing, he is her EX!), resulting in many tears. This, however, was different. I think the stress of moving in, and the issues with her roommates, got to her right before I left. She began crying outside the restaurant where we had lunch - she told me it was because I was leaving. Awww. Many quick hugs, kisses on the hair, and I left. Like daycare, or the first day of school, I believe it's best for the parents to GO - the kids will be fine. Plus, she has her car - if she's really that miserable, she can get home for a visit.
Day after move in - boyfriend is back from vacation, and moving in. But does not want to see S. Boyfriend is a stupid git I stopped liking in May. There was an argument - I do not know details, but S tells me she marched herself over to his dorm, and broke up with him in person. I'm so proud of her!!! No texting break up for her, oh no!
Next day - parking ticket. Not a good 36 or so hours for S.
J is back at school. Additional good news - he's working at his internship job 12 hours a week. The intership was supposed to end 8/20, but they loved him so much (awwww) that they worked to keep him on. I'm so proud of him. So, 12 hours at the intership (paid, by the way), 12 hours at work study job, 18 hours of credits (which includes his independent study). Busy guy.
I celebrated my first anniversary of working from home on Aug 1 - I can't believe it's been an entire year since I worked in the office. And, I have to say, I'm still happy. Yes, there are many days when I wish I had someone to chat with, but the pros so outweight the cons here, that I just can't be sad.
I want to write about friendships, too, but that's another post altogether -- and I did say I'd try to separate my thoughts. A wise friend (looking at YOU, LA!) warned me about brain dumping, but I'm going to indulge anyway. :)
more comp news.... or not
So, I kind of expected this. I'd get all excited about a blog, and then not write it. I'm not that concerned. I've been more than just a bit too wrapped up in my misery lately, and even I don't want to read about it.
So, no news. No surgical date. Got an email from my attorney today (and, let me tell you, after more than 2 weeks of silence, I'd better get the damn flowers), who says he has spoken with the attorney from the other side, who swears up and down that the surgery has been approved, and he is just Shocked! (yes, Shocked!) that the adjustor hasn't notified us yet.
I'm not. The money isn't worked out yet, either. Seriously? Do these people really think I could run my household on $250 a week?? Are they out of their fucking minds? This is just so unlike any other comp issue that I'm tired of discussing it with people. Either they, or someone they know, has had a comp injury, had surgery, and got paid XX dollars while they were out. They're so positive they know the answer. They don't. Trust me. They don't.
I'm not going to have a choice but to up my Vicodin intake. I'm again not sleeping well, not eating properly (I could stand to lose more than just a few pounds, but this isn't the way to do it), and cry all the time. I can't get ahead of the pain, and that's what I need to do. The only way to do that at this point is to increase the dosage. Of course, that will just make me more depressed.
I talked to my FWB about psychiatrists the other day. He thinks I should mention to my attorney that my depression has worsened, and that I need help - which is all very true. I think FWB (I have GOT to think of a better name) is more than a little concerned for my mental health at this point. My biggest reservation about this course of action is that whatever I say to a shrink will be relayed to my adjustor and my company. This, to me, is not good. They've fucked with me enough - I have no desire to give them what they might consider more ammo. Not to mention, if you're not going to be serious, and work on things, therapy is pointless. How could I seriously work on a more positive outlook if I can't share my thoughts and feelings honestly?
Anyway, I did write my attorney a rather lengthy email today, detailing what I want done. If a doctor refused to treat me, and I got worse, I could sue for malpractice. Why can't I sue my company, the adjustor, and the attorneys representing my company for the same thing? The workers comp laws are a joke - they're nothing more than a vehicle for 3rd rate attorneys to make money. Don't get me wrong, I'm fairly certain my attorney is not 3rd rate, but it certainly seems as though most attorneys in this field aren't very bright.
I'm seriously not happy about all this.
So, no news. No surgical date. Got an email from my attorney today (and, let me tell you, after more than 2 weeks of silence, I'd better get the damn flowers), who says he has spoken with the attorney from the other side, who swears up and down that the surgery has been approved, and he is just Shocked! (yes, Shocked!) that the adjustor hasn't notified us yet.
I'm not. The money isn't worked out yet, either. Seriously? Do these people really think I could run my household on $250 a week?? Are they out of their fucking minds? This is just so unlike any other comp issue that I'm tired of discussing it with people. Either they, or someone they know, has had a comp injury, had surgery, and got paid XX dollars while they were out. They're so positive they know the answer. They don't. Trust me. They don't.
I'm not going to have a choice but to up my Vicodin intake. I'm again not sleeping well, not eating properly (I could stand to lose more than just a few pounds, but this isn't the way to do it), and cry all the time. I can't get ahead of the pain, and that's what I need to do. The only way to do that at this point is to increase the dosage. Of course, that will just make me more depressed.
I talked to my FWB about psychiatrists the other day. He thinks I should mention to my attorney that my depression has worsened, and that I need help - which is all very true. I think FWB (I have GOT to think of a better name) is more than a little concerned for my mental health at this point. My biggest reservation about this course of action is that whatever I say to a shrink will be relayed to my adjustor and my company. This, to me, is not good. They've fucked with me enough - I have no desire to give them what they might consider more ammo. Not to mention, if you're not going to be serious, and work on things, therapy is pointless. How could I seriously work on a more positive outlook if I can't share my thoughts and feelings honestly?
Anyway, I did write my attorney a rather lengthy email today, detailing what I want done. If a doctor refused to treat me, and I got worse, I could sue for malpractice. Why can't I sue my company, the adjustor, and the attorneys representing my company for the same thing? The workers comp laws are a joke - they're nothing more than a vehicle for 3rd rate attorneys to make money. Don't get me wrong, I'm fairly certain my attorney is not 3rd rate, but it certainly seems as though most attorneys in this field aren't very bright.
I'm seriously not happy about all this.
Monday, August 9, 2010
not today
No Ren post today -- I'm too tired, in too much pain, and far too upset to write about it.
My left arm, not to be outdone by the right arm, has chosen today to hurt. And, I mean HURT. Elbow down to hand, the pain is so awful.
So, in other news -- spoke to my attorney today. Looks like the financial landslide is going to come pouring down on me. To court tomorrow to discuss payments with a creditor. What was the point in going to debt settlement, if the creditors won't work with the settlement people. I'm really scared where this is going to lead.
No word yet on the $$ owed by workers comp. I've demanded, yes, demanded, that my attorney ask for proof that the voluntary agreement has been signed by the lazy, shiftless, no-good, comp adjustor, and submitted to the state. Where the hell is my money???
He thinks the surgery will happen this year, but there is still some ridiculous argument over the rate of pay. Seems the lazy, shiftless, worthless piece of crap that is the adjustor wants to pay an hourly rate from 1994. Ok, but.... the herniated disk wasn't found until 2005 - so how you can go back to 1994? Brian says it's laziness, but if we have to go to a formal hearing, it won't happen until October, and the court has 120 days to render an decision. Can you say, "hey Peanut, you're totally fucked"? I sure can.
The pain is so awful, and I can't even get through one fucking day without Vicodin and an anti-inflammatory. Will have to ask attorneys about which doctor I'm supposed to go to to change up medications. There just has to be something out there that can provide me with more relief, and give me back some kind of life until this stupid surgery.
All I do is cry. Seriously wish I could just end it all. One of the very few times I regret having children. Without them, I'd be free to put myself out of misery and pain, and not worry about leaving someone behind.
Only one good note - will see FWB this week. I'm glad, but mustering up enthusiasm right now is so hard.
My left arm, not to be outdone by the right arm, has chosen today to hurt. And, I mean HURT. Elbow down to hand, the pain is so awful.
So, in other news -- spoke to my attorney today. Looks like the financial landslide is going to come pouring down on me. To court tomorrow to discuss payments with a creditor. What was the point in going to debt settlement, if the creditors won't work with the settlement people. I'm really scared where this is going to lead.
No word yet on the $$ owed by workers comp. I've demanded, yes, demanded, that my attorney ask for proof that the voluntary agreement has been signed by the lazy, shiftless, no-good, comp adjustor, and submitted to the state. Where the hell is my money???
He thinks the surgery will happen this year, but there is still some ridiculous argument over the rate of pay. Seems the lazy, shiftless, worthless piece of crap that is the adjustor wants to pay an hourly rate from 1994. Ok, but.... the herniated disk wasn't found until 2005 - so how you can go back to 1994? Brian says it's laziness, but if we have to go to a formal hearing, it won't happen until October, and the court has 120 days to render an decision. Can you say, "hey Peanut, you're totally fucked"? I sure can.
The pain is so awful, and I can't even get through one fucking day without Vicodin and an anti-inflammatory. Will have to ask attorneys about which doctor I'm supposed to go to to change up medications. There just has to be something out there that can provide me with more relief, and give me back some kind of life until this stupid surgery.
All I do is cry. Seriously wish I could just end it all. One of the very few times I regret having children. Without them, I'd be free to put myself out of misery and pain, and not worry about leaving someone behind.
Only one good note - will see FWB this week. I'm glad, but mustering up enthusiasm right now is so hard.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Ren Faire! Part 1
This will probably get broken into parts, hence the title of the post. It's late, I'm tired, and I have to get up early and work tomorrow. Yeah, looking forward to that.
So, the Faire... it was a bright and glorious day, lots of beautiful sunshine and sunny skies. We took off at 8:05 (LOL) and arrived at the parking grounds around 10-ish. After helping Gwenn & Shannon finish dressing in their Faire attire, we bought our tickets and entered the actual Faire grounds.
Huge HUGE crowd right at the entrance - we weren't exactly sure why. The Queen had already entered (we usually get to see this), so I think some players were entertaining folks, but naturally, things got bottle-necked.
We cut around the large group and headed for the photo places to have our "portraits made". By the time, we got to it, I was already in much pain. Between the car ride, and the walk in, my neck and shoulder were like, "are you f-ing kidding???" I was determined not to listen, however. Shannon asked me if I was ok, and I nearly lost it, 'cause I really wasn't, and I didn't want to ruin everyone's day. I pulled myself together, struggled into a costume, and we had our picture done (it turned out really well - I'll try to post it). Jill & I were dressed as queens, and the girls were pirates (of course, they were wearing their pirate costumes, duh!)
After that was done, we headed for the henna booth. Mind you, every year I get a henna tattoo, but I'm usually wearing my garb, which of course, lifts and pushes together "the girls". My tat is usually a dragon, done on the right "girl". (ok, really? that term totally cracks me up) This year, that wasn't going to happen, so I looked through the books, and found this really cool sun (yeah, I'll try to post that, too). The girl at the henna booth remembered me, and noticed I was really stiff. We had a brief conversation, and she expressed sympathy, which was very kind of her
While I was waiting, I looked out of the booth, and saw my absolute favorite player, Little John. I have no idea what this man's name is, but my GOD, he is so delicious looking! This year, his hair is very long, and instead of the blonde I'm used to seeing, it's a gorgeous gray! The really odd thing is I really don't like long hair on a man, but he carries it oh so well!! So, I asked Shannon to get a picture of him. Not only did she do that, she told him I think he's "pretty", and would he take a picture with me? Of course! he said... and put his arm around me. I, of course, blushed a thousand shades of red, and giggled like a teenager with her first crush. He looked down at me, and said "ok, hug me like you mean it, love", and pulled me closer. SWOOOOOON!!!! So, I tried to wrap myself around him... oh my GOD he's a big man!! LOLOL
Once done with henna, we began to walk around, visiting different shops. Shannon found a scarf with coins sewn on, and wore that with her costume. She jangled all day, but we knew where she was!!! And, it looked fabulous!
Next, we were off to see Dextre Tripp. If you've never heard of this guy, or seen his act, you've just got to. He's funny, and unbelievably cute. He has dark curly hair, which he keeps back with a doofy little hat. He wears a white shirt, vest, and very TIGHT black tights. He tells fairly bad jokes, and plays with fire. He always chooses people from the audience to help him with this act, with hilarious results. He juggles a chainsaw, and does a highwire act. Thankfully, he does NOT do those 2 things at one time!
So, during the show, I was getting progressively more uncomfortable. As we had been walking to the show, I began to fall behind our group - it was just so difficult to walk without jarring my neck and shoulder. Shannon dropped back to ask if I was ok - I wasn't, and asked her if she thought the others noticed. Oh yes, she said. So, reluctantly, I agreed to take a pain pill, which I did, after Dextre's show.
Not long after that, I began to feel much better, and we began walking around again. The girls went off on their own to shop for feathers, and Jill & I decided to get a little something to eat, and rest a while. I had my sausage on a stick, which was delicious!
I'm leaving a ton of stuff out, which I'm sure I'll figure out how to get back to - for instance, after our pics, we stopped to eat a little something, which we always do. So, you see, this is going to need several posts. :))
Ok, probably not a great place to stop, but I've got to get to bed, and I'm so tired and uncomfortable, I'm probably not making a whole bunch of sense, anyway.
So, the Faire... it was a bright and glorious day, lots of beautiful sunshine and sunny skies. We took off at 8:05 (LOL) and arrived at the parking grounds around 10-ish. After helping Gwenn & Shannon finish dressing in their Faire attire, we bought our tickets and entered the actual Faire grounds.
Huge HUGE crowd right at the entrance - we weren't exactly sure why. The Queen had already entered (we usually get to see this), so I think some players were entertaining folks, but naturally, things got bottle-necked.
We cut around the large group and headed for the photo places to have our "portraits made". By the time, we got to it, I was already in much pain. Between the car ride, and the walk in, my neck and shoulder were like, "are you f-ing kidding???" I was determined not to listen, however. Shannon asked me if I was ok, and I nearly lost it, 'cause I really wasn't, and I didn't want to ruin everyone's day. I pulled myself together, struggled into a costume, and we had our picture done (it turned out really well - I'll try to post it). Jill & I were dressed as queens, and the girls were pirates (of course, they were wearing their pirate costumes, duh!)
After that was done, we headed for the henna booth. Mind you, every year I get a henna tattoo, but I'm usually wearing my garb, which of course, lifts and pushes together "the girls". My tat is usually a dragon, done on the right "girl". (ok, really? that term totally cracks me up) This year, that wasn't going to happen, so I looked through the books, and found this really cool sun (yeah, I'll try to post that, too). The girl at the henna booth remembered me, and noticed I was really stiff. We had a brief conversation, and she expressed sympathy, which was very kind of her
While I was waiting, I looked out of the booth, and saw my absolute favorite player, Little John. I have no idea what this man's name is, but my GOD, he is so delicious looking! This year, his hair is very long, and instead of the blonde I'm used to seeing, it's a gorgeous gray! The really odd thing is I really don't like long hair on a man, but he carries it oh so well!! So, I asked Shannon to get a picture of him. Not only did she do that, she told him I think he's "pretty", and would he take a picture with me? Of course! he said... and put his arm around me. I, of course, blushed a thousand shades of red, and giggled like a teenager with her first crush. He looked down at me, and said "ok, hug me like you mean it, love", and pulled me closer. SWOOOOOON!!!! So, I tried to wrap myself around him... oh my GOD he's a big man!! LOLOL
Once done with henna, we began to walk around, visiting different shops. Shannon found a scarf with coins sewn on, and wore that with her costume. She jangled all day, but we knew where she was!!! And, it looked fabulous!
Next, we were off to see Dextre Tripp. If you've never heard of this guy, or seen his act, you've just got to. He's funny, and unbelievably cute. He has dark curly hair, which he keeps back with a doofy little hat. He wears a white shirt, vest, and very TIGHT black tights. He tells fairly bad jokes, and plays with fire. He always chooses people from the audience to help him with this act, with hilarious results. He juggles a chainsaw, and does a highwire act. Thankfully, he does NOT do those 2 things at one time!
So, during the show, I was getting progressively more uncomfortable. As we had been walking to the show, I began to fall behind our group - it was just so difficult to walk without jarring my neck and shoulder. Shannon dropped back to ask if I was ok - I wasn't, and asked her if she thought the others noticed. Oh yes, she said. So, reluctantly, I agreed to take a pain pill, which I did, after Dextre's show.
Not long after that, I began to feel much better, and we began walking around again. The girls went off on their own to shop for feathers, and Jill & I decided to get a little something to eat, and rest a while. I had my sausage on a stick, which was delicious!
I'm leaving a ton of stuff out, which I'm sure I'll figure out how to get back to - for instance, after our pics, we stopped to eat a little something, which we always do. So, you see, this is going to need several posts. :))
Ok, probably not a great place to stop, but I've got to get to bed, and I'm so tired and uncomfortable, I'm probably not making a whole bunch of sense, anyway.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
To the Faire!!!
So, this Saturday, I;m going to the Renaissance Faire. I go every year, with Shannon, and friends Jill & Gwenn. It's a big deal - we make sure we get our coupons printed from the site (hey $3 off is a big deal!), we plan what to wear, confirm pick up time (Jill drives every year, and every year she asks, "do you know how to get there? We've been going for at least 5 or 6 years to the same Faire..... I think I know how to get there by now! I love her!)
This year will be a bit different. Oh, the planning is the same, and the excitement is building. We already know a few things we'll do -- the picture at the beginning of the day, to be picked up just before the joust at the end of the day; then, off to get food. I always get sausage on a stick. A big ole sausage, shoved on a stick and cooked over flame. So juicy and tender, full of sausage-y goodness. Ok, yes, it is shaped like a particular part of man's anatomy, and I do enjoy sliding it into my mouth.... and, laughing my ass off when guys passing by either stare or trip! Yes, slut girl here.
Then, most years, it's off to get the henna tattoo. One must do this at the beginning of the day, before one gets too sweaty (yeah, got a bit formal with the prose there). Mine is almost always a dragon, drawn right on one of the "girls", who as usually stuffed, lifted, and pushed together in a corset of some kind.
Alas, this year, that is not meant to be this year. A bit of a diversion here - my neck/shoulder/arm won't tolerate my costume this year, so I'm going to look like a tourist -- shorts and a tank top, with sneakers. So, I'm not sure about the tattoo. Or placement.
Anyway, after the visit to the tattoo lady, we begin to wander. We consult the "program" to map out the day. Dextre Tripp is a must - the man is just plain hilarious, and how can you not love a man who has such a cute little ass, and wears the tightest tights that were ever tight? AND juggles chainsaws? While telling really bad jokes?
Some years, there are really great plays. One year, we saw Medea, and laughed our asses off. Men playing all the parts, except for one lone woman playing a young man. I don't remember Medea being a comedy, but it was that day. I forget what the play was last year, but again, laughed my ass off. These people work so hard to make Faire days great days - and they really pull it off.
Then, wandering around more, looking at all the wares. Stop for more food - usually a cheese & fruit platter. I dunno, I'm kinda thinking fried onion this year. We'll see. More plays, stopping at the various clothing stores to oooh and ahhhh and sigh. Oh, to have money to waste on these clothes!!! But... even in the midst of Faire frenzy, I realize $300 for a new corset is Not in the Budget. Sigh
However.... a new piece of jewelry is a must. I can wear any old thing, so can get away with $15 or $20 earrings. I may look for a necklace or bracelet this year. Then, off to the head shop... I mean, pipe shop. Just to look, mind you, although I have purchased an item or two for FWB in the past - yes, he smokes. Cigarettes. Regular ones you can buy at the store. Jeez, people!
Then, to the candy stand, where, I kid you not, is the Fattest Woman at the Faire. This is not an unkind statement, simply a statement of fact. I'm not sure she ever leaves that booth - at least, not until the Faire is over at the end of September.
We have to cross the Kissing Bridge to get to the bathrooms (they have port-a-potties, but, really? Are you kidding me?). Naturally, no one attempts to kiss Jill or me, but they LOVE Shannon and Gwenn! After the potty break, we walk along the shops again, passing by the dragon store (yeah, not what you think), and getting a pretzel from the grumpiest vendor at the Faire. I'm not kidding.
We finally wind down the last path, and head for the joust. Oh, forgot!!! We always get a pickle from the Pickle Man. Last year, the Queen was purchasing a pickle (well, one of her retinue purchased it for her - the vendor tried to make a gift of it, but she wouldn't hear of it) when we arrived. We made our courtesies, and she spoke with us a bit, asking if we planned to attend the joust, who would be our Champion, and then swept off.
We make our way to the joust (picking up our pictures first), eating our pickles, and learning our cheers. Then, the joust starts! I forget all the characters, but there's the Black Knight, and Robin Hood. The Black Knight, of course, loses - and is a sore loser. Mayhem breaks out, Maid Marian is taken captive, a huge battle ensues!!! But, as always, the good side wins, and the Queen instructs her bishop to marry Robin Hood & Maid Marian (yeah, forget these are different eras, just have a good time!), and all is well in the realm.
Off we go, heading out to our car, along with all the other tired and happy Faire-goers. We usually strip down in the parking lot (minds out of the gutter, please - we don't get naked, though there is a good deal of giggling and holding up dirty dresses to hide behind), and get into our every day clothes. We drive off, happy, tired, and laughing. We usually stop for dinner on our way home - past couple of years its been Cracker Barrel - then head for home.
That's Faire day. This weekend it looks like the weather will be very fine - low humidity, high 70's/low '80's, dry... I can't wait!
This year will be a bit different. Oh, the planning is the same, and the excitement is building. We already know a few things we'll do -- the picture at the beginning of the day, to be picked up just before the joust at the end of the day; then, off to get food. I always get sausage on a stick. A big ole sausage, shoved on a stick and cooked over flame. So juicy and tender, full of sausage-y goodness. Ok, yes, it is shaped like a particular part of man's anatomy, and I do enjoy sliding it into my mouth.... and, laughing my ass off when guys passing by either stare or trip! Yes, slut girl here.
Then, most years, it's off to get the henna tattoo. One must do this at the beginning of the day, before one gets too sweaty (yeah, got a bit formal with the prose there). Mine is almost always a dragon, drawn right on one of the "girls", who as usually stuffed, lifted, and pushed together in a corset of some kind.
Alas, this year, that is not meant to be this year. A bit of a diversion here - my neck/shoulder/arm won't tolerate my costume this year, so I'm going to look like a tourist -- shorts and a tank top, with sneakers. So, I'm not sure about the tattoo. Or placement.
Anyway, after the visit to the tattoo lady, we begin to wander. We consult the "program" to map out the day. Dextre Tripp is a must - the man is just plain hilarious, and how can you not love a man who has such a cute little ass, and wears the tightest tights that were ever tight? AND juggles chainsaws? While telling really bad jokes?
Some years, there are really great plays. One year, we saw Medea, and laughed our asses off. Men playing all the parts, except for one lone woman playing a young man. I don't remember Medea being a comedy, but it was that day. I forget what the play was last year, but again, laughed my ass off. These people work so hard to make Faire days great days - and they really pull it off.
Then, wandering around more, looking at all the wares. Stop for more food - usually a cheese & fruit platter. I dunno, I'm kinda thinking fried onion this year. We'll see. More plays, stopping at the various clothing stores to oooh and ahhhh and sigh. Oh, to have money to waste on these clothes!!! But... even in the midst of Faire frenzy, I realize $300 for a new corset is Not in the Budget. Sigh
However.... a new piece of jewelry is a must. I can wear any old thing, so can get away with $15 or $20 earrings. I may look for a necklace or bracelet this year. Then, off to the head shop... I mean, pipe shop. Just to look, mind you, although I have purchased an item or two for FWB in the past - yes, he smokes. Cigarettes. Regular ones you can buy at the store. Jeez, people!
Then, to the candy stand, where, I kid you not, is the Fattest Woman at the Faire. This is not an unkind statement, simply a statement of fact. I'm not sure she ever leaves that booth - at least, not until the Faire is over at the end of September.
We have to cross the Kissing Bridge to get to the bathrooms (they have port-a-potties, but, really? Are you kidding me?). Naturally, no one attempts to kiss Jill or me, but they LOVE Shannon and Gwenn! After the potty break, we walk along the shops again, passing by the dragon store (yeah, not what you think), and getting a pretzel from the grumpiest vendor at the Faire. I'm not kidding.
We finally wind down the last path, and head for the joust. Oh, forgot!!! We always get a pickle from the Pickle Man. Last year, the Queen was purchasing a pickle (well, one of her retinue purchased it for her - the vendor tried to make a gift of it, but she wouldn't hear of it) when we arrived. We made our courtesies, and she spoke with us a bit, asking if we planned to attend the joust, who would be our Champion, and then swept off.
We make our way to the joust (picking up our pictures first), eating our pickles, and learning our cheers. Then, the joust starts! I forget all the characters, but there's the Black Knight, and Robin Hood. The Black Knight, of course, loses - and is a sore loser. Mayhem breaks out, Maid Marian is taken captive, a huge battle ensues!!! But, as always, the good side wins, and the Queen instructs her bishop to marry Robin Hood & Maid Marian (yeah, forget these are different eras, just have a good time!), and all is well in the realm.
Off we go, heading out to our car, along with all the other tired and happy Faire-goers. We usually strip down in the parking lot (minds out of the gutter, please - we don't get naked, though there is a good deal of giggling and holding up dirty dresses to hide behind), and get into our every day clothes. We drive off, happy, tired, and laughing. We usually stop for dinner on our way home - past couple of years its been Cracker Barrel - then head for home.
That's Faire day. This weekend it looks like the weather will be very fine - low humidity, high 70's/low '80's, dry... I can't wait!
Comforting things....
So, as I sit in my bed, eating softened Dove chocolates, and watching Project Runway, I'm thinking of comfort things. Not comforting things (yeah, I know... the title thing), but comfort things.
The other day, it turned out all 4 of us would be home for dinner. I was excited - I've missed sitting at the dinner table with my kids, talking, listening, laughing (we do a LOT of laughing!) - and texted everybody - "what do you want for dinner?" Lots of "I don't know, what do you want", and misc ideas no one was really interested in. Then, someone said, "ham?", and we were off to the races.
Would there be scalloped potatoes? Yes. With cheese? Yes. What about applesauce? Yes. What veggie? Um, fresh green beans? YES YES came back the chorus.
As we sat around the table, happily eating, laughing, talking, it occurred to me --- this is comfort food. This is home - I asked who wanted to make the scalloped potatoes, and got thunderstruck looks in return. "You need to make them! Ours never come out right! We've tried!! They're not RIGHT when we make them!" Comfort.
So, I've been thinking about this. Things that comfort. I had a better day today - not physically, but emotionally. I started wondering what made this a different day. It was a comfort day. Munchkin was back at work (for a short time, as it turned out, but I got some reassuring friend contact that I've been missing - cause this is all about me right now, and Munchkin's story is for Munchkin to tell), heard from FWB, tiny pieces of good news during the day. I got past a difficult conversation with my manager (I hadn't yet told her about my upcoming surgery- she took it surprisingly well, albeit with a touch of panic, which was (oddly) comforting. I'm needed! I'm necessary!).
This is a little different, I think, than what we usually consider comfort things. Sometimes it's things -a favorite blanket, pillow, book. Sometimes it's food - ham, chicken corn soup, chocolate. Sometimes it's people - FWB, Munchkin, a friend I've never met in real life (but have "known" for years).
I think I'm going to split posts, because there are other things I want to write about, but I don't want this post (or any post) to be excessively long, and because I don't want to bounce round and round in one post. Also, because some day, I might want to read what I've written, and I don't want to wade through a bunch of shit to get to what I want! LOL
The other day, it turned out all 4 of us would be home for dinner. I was excited - I've missed sitting at the dinner table with my kids, talking, listening, laughing (we do a LOT of laughing!) - and texted everybody - "what do you want for dinner?" Lots of "I don't know, what do you want", and misc ideas no one was really interested in. Then, someone said, "ham?", and we were off to the races.
Would there be scalloped potatoes? Yes. With cheese? Yes. What about applesauce? Yes. What veggie? Um, fresh green beans? YES YES came back the chorus.
As we sat around the table, happily eating, laughing, talking, it occurred to me --- this is comfort food. This is home - I asked who wanted to make the scalloped potatoes, and got thunderstruck looks in return. "You need to make them! Ours never come out right! We've tried!! They're not RIGHT when we make them!" Comfort.
So, I've been thinking about this. Things that comfort. I had a better day today - not physically, but emotionally. I started wondering what made this a different day. It was a comfort day. Munchkin was back at work (for a short time, as it turned out, but I got some reassuring friend contact that I've been missing - cause this is all about me right now, and Munchkin's story is for Munchkin to tell), heard from FWB, tiny pieces of good news during the day. I got past a difficult conversation with my manager (I hadn't yet told her about my upcoming surgery- she took it surprisingly well, albeit with a touch of panic, which was (oddly) comforting. I'm needed! I'm necessary!).
This is a little different, I think, than what we usually consider comfort things. Sometimes it's things -a favorite blanket, pillow, book. Sometimes it's food - ham, chicken corn soup, chocolate. Sometimes it's people - FWB, Munchkin, a friend I've never met in real life (but have "known" for years).
I think I'm going to split posts, because there are other things I want to write about, but I don't want this post (or any post) to be excessively long, and because I don't want to bounce round and round in one post. Also, because some day, I might want to read what I've written, and I don't want to wade through a bunch of shit to get to what I want! LOL
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
I hate finding a title
I'm just not that good at it. I always want something snappy, but you know what? I can never figure one out.
So, while I'm sitting here trying to organize my thoughts into a coherent post, trying to figure out what I want to say, I've got a million things zipping through my head.
Have to take Schyler to work. Want to take a pain pill - fuck, I take too many pain pills (yeah, only one a day, but waaaay too fucking many), how am I going to get that book to Wendy, will I remember to take it when we get together, and when are we getting together? Shit, I have to go to court on Tuesday, ok, well, that's Tuesday, and I have way to many other things right now. Are you shitting me??? This neck thing is actually so bad I need surgery!?? Who's going to take care of things? Damn, I need to write a will. Don't want to scare the kids, but will make subtle reminders - anything goes wrong - PULL THE DAMN PLUG. I am not worth going into hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt over. How am I going to pay the bills? Will the money get worked out? Speaking of that - where is that damn money comp owes me?? I'll bet that fucking Carolyn Thomas is STILL holding onto the paperwork, probably hasn't submitted the VA, and that's why I'm still waiting for $$.
That's a tiny fraction of the bullshit going through my head ALL THE TIME. No wonder I'm so damned tired. And, this week, my ... FWB.... is away, and phone contact is nearly non-existent. I miss him - I miss his advice and really bad jokes. I miss our mundane conversations - especially right now, when I need a distraction. I'm in my head way too much - I know I shouldn't be, but I am.
I keep wondering if I should find some kind of support group. I'm incredibly depressed.... despondent, my FWB calls it. The thoughts are dark and very real. I'm tired, I'm alone, and I'm overwhelmed. This is mean, I know, but I can't even rely on my mom. My brother has prostate cancer, and she's so worried about him, that what's going on with me hasn't really sunk in. They've caught his cancer very early - so early, in fact, that's he's able to go on his yearly vacation, and will have his prostate removed when he gets back. I'm relieved they caught it early, and hope that when the prostate is removed, all will be well. I'm sure it will be. I would call, and tell him so, but a) he's away on vacation, and b) we don't talk. I'll save the whole family dynamic for another time.
Right now, I have to wrap up. Only a few minutes till I take Schy to work. Think I'll get some fresh corn on the way home. We got propane for the grill yesterday, and I've defrosted a small steak. So, steak, fresh corn, tomatoes, maybe some french fries. We'll see - it's so blessed humid that my appetite could evaporate by the time I get back from taking Schy to work.
So, while I'm sitting here trying to organize my thoughts into a coherent post, trying to figure out what I want to say, I've got a million things zipping through my head.
Have to take Schyler to work. Want to take a pain pill - fuck, I take too many pain pills (yeah, only one a day, but waaaay too fucking many), how am I going to get that book to Wendy, will I remember to take it when we get together, and when are we getting together? Shit, I have to go to court on Tuesday, ok, well, that's Tuesday, and I have way to many other things right now. Are you shitting me??? This neck thing is actually so bad I need surgery!?? Who's going to take care of things? Damn, I need to write a will. Don't want to scare the kids, but will make subtle reminders - anything goes wrong - PULL THE DAMN PLUG. I am not worth going into hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt over. How am I going to pay the bills? Will the money get worked out? Speaking of that - where is that damn money comp owes me?? I'll bet that fucking Carolyn Thomas is STILL holding onto the paperwork, probably hasn't submitted the VA, and that's why I'm still waiting for $$.
That's a tiny fraction of the bullshit going through my head ALL THE TIME. No wonder I'm so damned tired. And, this week, my ... FWB.... is away, and phone contact is nearly non-existent. I miss him - I miss his advice and really bad jokes. I miss our mundane conversations - especially right now, when I need a distraction. I'm in my head way too much - I know I shouldn't be, but I am.
I keep wondering if I should find some kind of support group. I'm incredibly depressed.... despondent, my FWB calls it. The thoughts are dark and very real. I'm tired, I'm alone, and I'm overwhelmed. This is mean, I know, but I can't even rely on my mom. My brother has prostate cancer, and she's so worried about him, that what's going on with me hasn't really sunk in. They've caught his cancer very early - so early, in fact, that's he's able to go on his yearly vacation, and will have his prostate removed when he gets back. I'm relieved they caught it early, and hope that when the prostate is removed, all will be well. I'm sure it will be. I would call, and tell him so, but a) he's away on vacation, and b) we don't talk. I'll save the whole family dynamic for another time.
Right now, I have to wrap up. Only a few minutes till I take Schy to work. Think I'll get some fresh corn on the way home. We got propane for the grill yesterday, and I've defrosted a small steak. So, steak, fresh corn, tomatoes, maybe some french fries. We'll see - it's so blessed humid that my appetite could evaporate by the time I get back from taking Schy to work.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Here we go.....
Everybody's doing it, right? Well, here I am. I've never thought my life particularly interesting, but I need a place to vent, post observations, or just put down thoughts.
First... the name. Peanut is my nickname, given to me by a great friend as a result of a several day "battle" of Princess Bride quotes via IM at work. Yes,we both had things to do, but it was fun, and a great stress reliever. I can get her convulsed with laughter simply by saying "Anybody want a peanut?". I love that.
Second.... who am I? Well, I'm defined by several things -- I have 3 children, so I'm a mom. I'm a daughter, friend, neighbor, employee, client, ...... bitch. LOL
I was injured at work 17 years ago, and have never been the same since. My life has become defined by pain - what will it be like today? Under control? Off the charts? For those who know the pain scale, I live every day with pain that ranges between 6 and 8, spiking to 9 more times than I can count. Over the past 18 months, it's gotten worse - my life has scaled way down. I'm not as active as I was, and the bad days outnumber the good days. A close friend has said I have a naturally buoyant personality, but I have become despondent as this wears on.
Everything is a battle - getting care, doctors appointments, money. The company I work for would rather waste money on attorneys and hearings then try to find an effective way to either help with me deal with, or reduce/eliminate, my pain. Yeah, this is a company that's won customer service awards. None from me.
So, we'll see how this goes. I hope every post won't be a litany of poor me, that I can find good things to post about, funny things I've observed. Mostly, though, it's a place for me to spew.
First... the name. Peanut is my nickname, given to me by a great friend as a result of a several day "battle" of Princess Bride quotes via IM at work. Yes,we both had things to do, but it was fun, and a great stress reliever. I can get her convulsed with laughter simply by saying "Anybody want a peanut?". I love that.
Second.... who am I? Well, I'm defined by several things -- I have 3 children, so I'm a mom. I'm a daughter, friend, neighbor, employee, client, ...... bitch. LOL
I was injured at work 17 years ago, and have never been the same since. My life has become defined by pain - what will it be like today? Under control? Off the charts? For those who know the pain scale, I live every day with pain that ranges between 6 and 8, spiking to 9 more times than I can count. Over the past 18 months, it's gotten worse - my life has scaled way down. I'm not as active as I was, and the bad days outnumber the good days. A close friend has said I have a naturally buoyant personality, but I have become despondent as this wears on.
Everything is a battle - getting care, doctors appointments, money. The company I work for would rather waste money on attorneys and hearings then try to find an effective way to either help with me deal with, or reduce/eliminate, my pain. Yeah, this is a company that's won customer service awards. None from me.
So, we'll see how this goes. I hope every post won't be a litany of poor me, that I can find good things to post about, funny things I've observed. Mostly, though, it's a place for me to spew.
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