So the cats have gone insane. Or rather, I suppose I should say they have gone MORE insane. This weather has addled their brains to where they can't tell hot from cold. And sadly, this isn't the first time this has happened. Our late cat Fluffy used to sprawl over my legs during the heat of the summer and look at me expectantly, as if I could suddenly make him cooler. I am guessing his logic was 'well, when I lay on her during the winter, I get warmer. Surely it works that way in reverse right now.'
I suppose Rowan is using the same logic at the moment. During the evening, while it is still humid and hot enough for things to be sticky, she now insists on sitting right next to me. Actually, she's next to me when I am lucky. The rest of the time, she will wedge her body against mine and push down into the chair. Unless I move her (and if I do move her, she will certainly come back), I have a furry, heat-producing cat with as much of her body against me as possible.
Her sister spends most of the winter buried under a blanket on the couch. In winter, of course, this is perfectly logical and acceptable. But in the summer? For some reason no one understands, this cat will insist on being under that blanket no matter how hot it is outside. It can be in triple digits and she will still get under that blanket. She will stay there for hours and sleep.
Of course, one of the reasons people love cats is because they are strange little creatures. I know this. Cats seem to thrive on developing habits and patterns that defy all logic and reason. However, I just don't get the point of wanting to spend a hot day being as hot as you possibly can.
Then again, maybe the goal was to get me to think about them more.
Sunday, August 31, 2014
Saturday, August 30, 2014
End of the Light
My bedside table lamp died today. It's been with us for a while now. It's one of those things that my roommate had before I lived with him. It ended up in my room because it was difficult to knock over. As you know by now, I'm not the most graceful of flowers. Anything we can do to keep me from breaking things is usually done. This worked out pretty well. I had the lamp for quite a few years.
The lamp was plastic. Part of it was black and the other part was a very pretty sapphire blue. It was an office lamp, utilitarian in design, with little compartments on the base to hold pencils and rubber bands and such items. For the most part, these were just dust collectors. Occasionally the cats would puke on them. They were a bitch to clean.
I will miss my lamp. It has been with me through so much. In this last year, for instance, it has witnessed me almost dying from blood loss. It has witnessed my sleepless, terrified nights worrying about cancer. It witnessed me with stitches and staples and drainage tubes. It has been there as I began to recover. It's hard to lose this lamp because it's like losing a part of myself, and I think I've done enough of that lately.
My roommate moved one of the spare lamps into my room. It's pretty. I think it's one that I put together from bits and pieces of other lamp parts. I think I wired it. I can't quite remember. If I did, I hope it doesn't burn down the house. I like the light it puts out. It's soft and gentle. I've never been one to like harsh lighting. I welcome it into my room and my life and hope that it can witness better things than the last one did. Seriously, I'd really like that.
The lamp was plastic. Part of it was black and the other part was a very pretty sapphire blue. It was an office lamp, utilitarian in design, with little compartments on the base to hold pencils and rubber bands and such items. For the most part, these were just dust collectors. Occasionally the cats would puke on them. They were a bitch to clean.
I will miss my lamp. It has been with me through so much. In this last year, for instance, it has witnessed me almost dying from blood loss. It has witnessed my sleepless, terrified nights worrying about cancer. It witnessed me with stitches and staples and drainage tubes. It has been there as I began to recover. It's hard to lose this lamp because it's like losing a part of myself, and I think I've done enough of that lately.
My roommate moved one of the spare lamps into my room. It's pretty. I think it's one that I put together from bits and pieces of other lamp parts. I think I wired it. I can't quite remember. If I did, I hope it doesn't burn down the house. I like the light it puts out. It's soft and gentle. I've never been one to like harsh lighting. I welcome it into my room and my life and hope that it can witness better things than the last one did. Seriously, I'd really like that.
Friday, August 29, 2014
Rain, Recovery, Progress
You would think that it raining and cooling down would have made things really great for me today. I thought it would as well, actually. I was wrong. Somehow, the weather just managed to make every part of my body ache and protest. I didn't do as much exercise as I intended and my nap was unpleasant. Overall, I was pretty disappointed by how the weather made me feel.
I have to admit, this summer has been mostly mild. As I've said before, that has been a blessing for me, considering the surgeries and stuff I've had to deal with. I really shouldn't complain that things have been unpleasant at the end of August, but the heat has profoundly affected me. Then again, any change in weather, especially extreme ones, can cause issues when one is in recovery.
The scar on my arm is still in the process of leveling out. This process is slow, but I'm seeing more flat bits every day. I don't think it will ever look NORMAL, but then again, I don't think anything about me does . . . or should. What interests me about the scar flattening out is that it looks so healed and complete. To go from open wounds held together with staples to skin with no lines on it at all in such a short amount of time amazes me.
Speaking of progress, I did NOT look at the neighbors when I was out walking today. I was a good girl and kept my thoughts on the road and on nature. NOT on what they were doing. So go me. I may not turn into my grandmother yet!
I have to admit, this summer has been mostly mild. As I've said before, that has been a blessing for me, considering the surgeries and stuff I've had to deal with. I really shouldn't complain that things have been unpleasant at the end of August, but the heat has profoundly affected me. Then again, any change in weather, especially extreme ones, can cause issues when one is in recovery.
The scar on my arm is still in the process of leveling out. This process is slow, but I'm seeing more flat bits every day. I don't think it will ever look NORMAL, but then again, I don't think anything about me does . . . or should. What interests me about the scar flattening out is that it looks so healed and complete. To go from open wounds held together with staples to skin with no lines on it at all in such a short amount of time amazes me.
Speaking of progress, I did NOT look at the neighbors when I was out walking today. I was a good girl and kept my thoughts on the road and on nature. NOT on what they were doing. So go me. I may not turn into my grandmother yet!
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Grandma Ism
So now that I go outside and walk, I've started to actually notice a whole lot more about the world around me. Part of this is a survival thing. I'm not graceful and I'm really trying not to fall on the pavement. With this in mind, I pay attention to the loose rocks and the broken bits of pavement. I not where the grass clippings might be slick and certainly where the flowers dropped from the bushes might trip me. Oh, and I always look for animal poo.That might not make me fall, but it does make life quite stinky.
In a more pure way, I've started noticing other things as well. Our neighbors now have a fountain and it's fun when I get close enough to hear the trickle of the water. I like watching the day to day breakdown of the bits of plants that fall onto the driveway. It's interesting to watch the little birds hop around. This hasn't been as much of a thing this year, but last year we had an abundance of dragonflies and it was really great to see their various colors. It's also amusing to watch the outdoor cats scurry from place to place.
In a less than pure way, I'm starting to act like my grandma. Grandma would walk the neighborhood and take notes of what was happening with the neighbors. Then she would come home and call me to tell me all about it. My roommate and I have a theory that one of the reasons she kept up with her walking was so she could gain said information. It was a perk of the exercise.
I didn't realize I was doing this, not at first. I would walk and just innocently mention things I saw . . . like a bird or a pretty flower or . . . 'the fact that the neighbors parked their car in a strange spot. I wonder why they did that? It's odd. Why would they do that?' I didn't mean any malice by it. I was actually just curious. AND yet, here I was, doing the same thing Grandma used to do. I would notice if they were home. I would notice if their yards had a strange smell . . . I would note when the strange smell went away. It was getting bad.
This morning, when I walked past my next door neighbors' house and kind of found myself kind of straining to see WHERE they got pizza from . . . because it was trash day and they had a pizza box out and I was just curious . . . I knew this had to stop. I am becoming my grandmother when I walk. That can't happen. It just honestly can not.
Tomorrow when I walk, I'm going to make note of any hazards. I'm going to look at the birds and the flowers. I'm going to make sure I don't get stung by that evil wasp out there. And that is all I am going to do. I'm not going to pay attention to my neighbors. I'm not going to look at their houses or their cars. I'm going to mind my own business and walk like a decent person. See, even exercise has moral lessons.
In a more pure way, I've started noticing other things as well. Our neighbors now have a fountain and it's fun when I get close enough to hear the trickle of the water. I like watching the day to day breakdown of the bits of plants that fall onto the driveway. It's interesting to watch the little birds hop around. This hasn't been as much of a thing this year, but last year we had an abundance of dragonflies and it was really great to see their various colors. It's also amusing to watch the outdoor cats scurry from place to place.
In a less than pure way, I'm starting to act like my grandma. Grandma would walk the neighborhood and take notes of what was happening with the neighbors. Then she would come home and call me to tell me all about it. My roommate and I have a theory that one of the reasons she kept up with her walking was so she could gain said information. It was a perk of the exercise.
I didn't realize I was doing this, not at first. I would walk and just innocently mention things I saw . . . like a bird or a pretty flower or . . . 'the fact that the neighbors parked their car in a strange spot. I wonder why they did that? It's odd. Why would they do that?' I didn't mean any malice by it. I was actually just curious. AND yet, here I was, doing the same thing Grandma used to do. I would notice if they were home. I would notice if their yards had a strange smell . . . I would note when the strange smell went away. It was getting bad.
This morning, when I walked past my next door neighbors' house and kind of found myself kind of straining to see WHERE they got pizza from . . . because it was trash day and they had a pizza box out and I was just curious . . . I knew this had to stop. I am becoming my grandmother when I walk. That can't happen. It just honestly can not.
Tomorrow when I walk, I'm going to make note of any hazards. I'm going to look at the birds and the flowers. I'm going to make sure I don't get stung by that evil wasp out there. And that is all I am going to do. I'm not going to pay attention to my neighbors. I'm not going to look at their houses or their cars. I'm going to mind my own business and walk like a decent person. See, even exercise has moral lessons.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Hot
Today wasn't as hot as it has been, but it was more humid than any day has the right to be. I just overheated pretty horribly in the bathroom and now feel like a wilted leaf. Well, a wilted wet leaf that wants to give up on life. I can not tell you how happy I will be when summer is gone. I know I've been spared the horrors of a truly hot summer, but days like this still get to me. They get to me badly.
Overheating isn't fun. You feel like your brain is dizzy and slowed. Your body feels like you've been beaten up. You're wet from head to toe with this kind of slight belief that none of this may ever end. It does, eventually, but it takes a while.
That is all the post I can manage tonight. Blame the weather.
Overheating isn't fun. You feel like your brain is dizzy and slowed. Your body feels like you've been beaten up. You're wet from head to toe with this kind of slight belief that none of this may ever end. It does, eventually, but it takes a while.
That is all the post I can manage tonight. Blame the weather.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Praise for Pedaling
Back when my roommate bought the pedal exerciser, he read some reviews about it. Most of the reviews talked about how stationary pedaling isn't that good of a workout. It doesn't burn the calories that biking does, not even stationary bikes. At the time, I found this to be a bit discouraging, though I'm not sure why that mattered as I only tried to do the pedaling a few times before deciding it was too unstable for me.
However, as I am more mature now (or maybe just more practical), I've been using the pedaler almost every day. It's something that I'm trying to just make a regular part of my life and routine. And given that, I want to take some issue with the reviews that say pedal exercisers aren't that great. As far as I am concerned, they serve someone like me in many ways.
To begin with, a stationary pedaler is very small. It's basically just a stand with two pedals on it. No wheels. No seat. It can sit very comfortably in a small corner of your room, which is such a rare and wonderful thing for workout equipment. I don't have to devote a third of a room just to keep it around. No one runs into it when they walk by. It's not a bitch to move whenever the floor is vacuumed. And even if a cat pukes on it, it's fairly easy to clean. However, cats rarely HAVE puked on it because there is really no where for them to stand or lay on it.
Secondly, I like it because it's an indoor thing. I think a lot of professional health people underestimate the importance of being able to be indoors when you workout, especially if you're starting from a place of being very out of shape. On days when it is too hot and certainly this winter when it's too cold or slick, I can use the stationary pedals to accomplish the moment I need to accomplish. Now understand, back when I just walked, do you know what I would do instead of walking if it was too hot/rainy/slick/wet/whathaveyou and I couldn't go outside? Nothing. Nothing at all. I would just skip that day and have no extra movement. Now, I can pedal and still get some workout accomplished.
This brings me to what I believe is the most vital point about this piece of equipment. While people who may be in wonderful physical health might not see much in the way of results from the pedaler, for someone like me, who weighs in the 400s, pedaling IS a very good workout. I may not burn the level of calories on it that I would burn on a bike (stationary or otherwise), but I also cannot GET on a bike (stationary or otherwise). There is so much exercise equipment that is not designed for people past a certain weight and even what few bits are, often are good difficult for them to manage. A pedaler, on the other hand, is easy to manage and easy to deal with. No, you may not be burning massive amounts of calories, but you ARE burning calories. SOME is better than none at all.
There needs to be so much change in the way that we approach exercise and people who are out of shape/overweight. It seems like the dialogue has always been "here is this hard and painful stuff you can do that is also really boring and humiliating. Do that or you'll never be healthy." That is honestly such bullshit. If you're starting from ground zero in your workout routine, don't go to the gym and try to do All the Things. Walk out your door and to the end of your driveway. If that is too hard, just walk around your house until you can do more. Find some small things you CAN accomplish and focus on making them an everyday part of your life. More movement is better than no movement. Overtime, you may be able to add to it. If not, at least you have that small bit. You might even want to look into a stationary pedaler. They're not that expensive.
However, as I am more mature now (or maybe just more practical), I've been using the pedaler almost every day. It's something that I'm trying to just make a regular part of my life and routine. And given that, I want to take some issue with the reviews that say pedal exercisers aren't that great. As far as I am concerned, they serve someone like me in many ways.
To begin with, a stationary pedaler is very small. It's basically just a stand with two pedals on it. No wheels. No seat. It can sit very comfortably in a small corner of your room, which is such a rare and wonderful thing for workout equipment. I don't have to devote a third of a room just to keep it around. No one runs into it when they walk by. It's not a bitch to move whenever the floor is vacuumed. And even if a cat pukes on it, it's fairly easy to clean. However, cats rarely HAVE puked on it because there is really no where for them to stand or lay on it.
Secondly, I like it because it's an indoor thing. I think a lot of professional health people underestimate the importance of being able to be indoors when you workout, especially if you're starting from a place of being very out of shape. On days when it is too hot and certainly this winter when it's too cold or slick, I can use the stationary pedals to accomplish the moment I need to accomplish. Now understand, back when I just walked, do you know what I would do instead of walking if it was too hot/rainy/slick/wet/whathaveyou and I couldn't go outside? Nothing. Nothing at all. I would just skip that day and have no extra movement. Now, I can pedal and still get some workout accomplished.
This brings me to what I believe is the most vital point about this piece of equipment. While people who may be in wonderful physical health might not see much in the way of results from the pedaler, for someone like me, who weighs in the 400s, pedaling IS a very good workout. I may not burn the level of calories on it that I would burn on a bike (stationary or otherwise), but I also cannot GET on a bike (stationary or otherwise). There is so much exercise equipment that is not designed for people past a certain weight and even what few bits are, often are good difficult for them to manage. A pedaler, on the other hand, is easy to manage and easy to deal with. No, you may not be burning massive amounts of calories, but you ARE burning calories. SOME is better than none at all.
There needs to be so much change in the way that we approach exercise and people who are out of shape/overweight. It seems like the dialogue has always been "here is this hard and painful stuff you can do that is also really boring and humiliating. Do that or you'll never be healthy." That is honestly such bullshit. If you're starting from ground zero in your workout routine, don't go to the gym and try to do All the Things. Walk out your door and to the end of your driveway. If that is too hard, just walk around your house until you can do more. Find some small things you CAN accomplish and focus on making them an everyday part of your life. More movement is better than no movement. Overtime, you may be able to add to it. If not, at least you have that small bit. You might even want to look into a stationary pedaler. They're not that expensive.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Speaking of the Dead
Tonight I was talking to my best friend about pregnancy. It's a topic that comes up a lot, as she's expecting a baby at the first of November. She was telling me how tired she is and commented that her grandmother and great-grandmother probably knew NOTHING of tiredness during pregnancy, and just kept going until the babies showed up. I wouldn't be surprised by this. Toughness is a virtue in the women of her family.
I mentioned that pregnancy was very hard on my own grandmother. She spent most of it leaning against the bathroom wall, trying to support her back. She threw up everything she ate. It was probably why she didn't like her children, but soon added that even if pregnancy was easy, she would have found a reason not to like them. My friend, who I know was joking, chided me for speaking ill of the dead.
The thing is, I don't think it's wrong to speak ill of the dead if what you say about them is true. Even if they were awful, even if they made you mad every day, I think it's fine to talk about that. This is who they were and I believe that people would rather be known for their actual selves that some whitewashed version. I certainly know that is what I want when I die. I want to be remembered for the good and the bad. It's far more accurate of who I am. I think it helps to keep the real memory alive. To me, that is how you honor the person.
My grandmother is a good example of this. I loved the woman. I loved her deeply and I miss her a lot. She influenced me in so many ways and she is one of the first people who defined my reality. Having said that, she was a pill. She could be vain and stubborn and judgmental. She could be hard to have a conversation with. We didn't always get along. And yet, I love her both for the good parts of who she was and the not so good parts. When I think about her, there is a certain affection attached to it, even when I'm thinking about what a pill she could be.
I never got to meet my dad's mother. She died before I was ever born. And yet, all of my life, I was told stories about her. Only a few of those stories paint her in a saintly light. Most of the time, she was displaying a lot of temper and personality. Sometimes she was throwing pop bottles at hunting dogs. Sometimes she was dishing our retribution to my grandfather and his mistresses. Apparently, she wasn't all that easy to get along with. Even still, instead of some kind, saintly, fake version of her, I have a vision of someone who was strong and fierce and unpredictable. I love that. I love her.
I don't think you should tell lies about the dead. Even if those lies make the person sound better than they were, I still believe it is wrong. Telling lies about someone who has passed means that their true stories aren't being told. The true stories about them is what helps to keep their memory alive.
I mentioned that pregnancy was very hard on my own grandmother. She spent most of it leaning against the bathroom wall, trying to support her back. She threw up everything she ate. It was probably why she didn't like her children, but soon added that even if pregnancy was easy, she would have found a reason not to like them. My friend, who I know was joking, chided me for speaking ill of the dead.
The thing is, I don't think it's wrong to speak ill of the dead if what you say about them is true. Even if they were awful, even if they made you mad every day, I think it's fine to talk about that. This is who they were and I believe that people would rather be known for their actual selves that some whitewashed version. I certainly know that is what I want when I die. I want to be remembered for the good and the bad. It's far more accurate of who I am. I think it helps to keep the real memory alive. To me, that is how you honor the person.
My grandmother is a good example of this. I loved the woman. I loved her deeply and I miss her a lot. She influenced me in so many ways and she is one of the first people who defined my reality. Having said that, she was a pill. She could be vain and stubborn and judgmental. She could be hard to have a conversation with. We didn't always get along. And yet, I love her both for the good parts of who she was and the not so good parts. When I think about her, there is a certain affection attached to it, even when I'm thinking about what a pill she could be.
I never got to meet my dad's mother. She died before I was ever born. And yet, all of my life, I was told stories about her. Only a few of those stories paint her in a saintly light. Most of the time, she was displaying a lot of temper and personality. Sometimes she was throwing pop bottles at hunting dogs. Sometimes she was dishing our retribution to my grandfather and his mistresses. Apparently, she wasn't all that easy to get along with. Even still, instead of some kind, saintly, fake version of her, I have a vision of someone who was strong and fierce and unpredictable. I love that. I love her.
I don't think you should tell lies about the dead. Even if those lies make the person sound better than they were, I still believe it is wrong. Telling lies about someone who has passed means that their true stories aren't being told. The true stories about them is what helps to keep their memory alive.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Unnecessary Roughness
Today it was six billion degrees outside and both of my walks were hellish. I did them, but they weren't fun. To be honest, while it was hotter the second round, it was actually less hellish because the humidity was down. Humidity is always rough. Walking in it is kind of like walking through soup. The less of it I have to deal with, the better.
Today was rough in a lot of ways. Things were really bad emotionally. I had to keep talking myself out of crying and being angry. I've done my best to avoid things that would trigger either, but the problem with this kind of emotional shit is that it's just SO unpredictable what will set you off. I almost cried this morning because my roommate made me breakfast. He's so nice! I almost cried later in the day because someone had set little kids out to sell stuff in this heat. How is it even possible to predict for this kind of thing?
My attention span also caused me a lot of problems. My brain was so random. I found myself loading games and then just not even doing anything with them before I would move to the next game. It too so much effort for me to focus on anything. Emotionally weepy yet lacking focus is a really strange place to be. I hope all of this settles down soon.
Today was rough in a lot of ways. Things were really bad emotionally. I had to keep talking myself out of crying and being angry. I've done my best to avoid things that would trigger either, but the problem with this kind of emotional shit is that it's just SO unpredictable what will set you off. I almost cried this morning because my roommate made me breakfast. He's so nice! I almost cried later in the day because someone had set little kids out to sell stuff in this heat. How is it even possible to predict for this kind of thing?
My attention span also caused me a lot of problems. My brain was so random. I found myself loading games and then just not even doing anything with them before I would move to the next game. It too so much effort for me to focus on anything. Emotionally weepy yet lacking focus is a really strange place to be. I hope all of this settles down soon.
Friday, August 22, 2014
No Explaining
In any article about women that I have recently read, I have noticed a trend of men commenting that 'this or that point' should be explained to them. The articles don't have to even be from a strictly feminist perspective. One of them was about how 3 out of every 4 people in Liberia who is contracting Ebola is female. The article, which was quite neutral in tone, went on to explain that the culture is set up to where women tend to the sick and men do not, therefore more women are exposed to the sickness and more are contracting it. In the comments, some dude wrote "Explain to me why we have to make this about gender." Another man wrote "Explain to me why you felt it was important to address the fact that more women have this than men. Why can't it just be about people?"
The author didn't explain anything, which was the right thing to do. Any time someone demands that you explain something to them, always, ALWAYS keep in mind that their demand does not mean your automatic compliance. You don't owe them an explanation. If they are truly curious, they can research it themselves. More than likely, they are not sincere in their curiosity. More than likely, they are just trying to be confrontational.
In the same way that a lot of women have been socialized to apologize about everything, a lot of us have also been socialized to offer explanations and justifications for everything in our lives. If you do this, stop. Unless this person is your boss and it is directly work related, your actions are really no one else's business. Your choices and decisions are your own. If they don't like them or feel threatened by them, they is their problem, not yours. You don't have to sooth or comfort them. You certainly don't have to explain yourself.
A while back, a read an article about a woman with a male roommate who kept giving her hell about not wanting to walk down the street alone at night. He kept demanding an explanation about why she would do this and never really processing it when she would tell him. Honestly, the only answer he deserved was 'none of your business' or 'go fuck yourself' because what she did wasn't his concern. And yet, he felt it was. He felt he was entitled to an accounting of her actions, even though he was just her roommate.
You do not owe the world an accounting of your actions. You don't have to justify what you are doing or how you feel or why you made a decision. You certainly do not have to justify your existence. Do your best to nip any behavior of this nature in the bud when you meet new people. Stop giving explanations to those around you if you're already in the pattern. Just stop. It won't be easy at first, but in the long run, it will make your life far easier.
It truly is none of their concern.
The author didn't explain anything, which was the right thing to do. Any time someone demands that you explain something to them, always, ALWAYS keep in mind that their demand does not mean your automatic compliance. You don't owe them an explanation. If they are truly curious, they can research it themselves. More than likely, they are not sincere in their curiosity. More than likely, they are just trying to be confrontational.
In the same way that a lot of women have been socialized to apologize about everything, a lot of us have also been socialized to offer explanations and justifications for everything in our lives. If you do this, stop. Unless this person is your boss and it is directly work related, your actions are really no one else's business. Your choices and decisions are your own. If they don't like them or feel threatened by them, they is their problem, not yours. You don't have to sooth or comfort them. You certainly don't have to explain yourself.
A while back, a read an article about a woman with a male roommate who kept giving her hell about not wanting to walk down the street alone at night. He kept demanding an explanation about why she would do this and never really processing it when she would tell him. Honestly, the only answer he deserved was 'none of your business' or 'go fuck yourself' because what she did wasn't his concern. And yet, he felt it was. He felt he was entitled to an accounting of her actions, even though he was just her roommate.
You do not owe the world an accounting of your actions. You don't have to justify what you are doing or how you feel or why you made a decision. You certainly do not have to justify your existence. Do your best to nip any behavior of this nature in the bud when you meet new people. Stop giving explanations to those around you if you're already in the pattern. Just stop. It won't be easy at first, but in the long run, it will make your life far easier.
It truly is none of their concern.
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Ye Old Fan
One of our fans died today. We've had it for five years and it has been used almost every summer. We have an extra fan we weren't using so we're going to see if we can get that one to hold us through the summer. That way, we can buy a replacement fan when fans go on sale at the end of the season. I'm rather disappointed with this fan. It wasn't one of the little crappy plastic box fans. This was a metal, more industrial fan.
But what is most disappointing is that fact that I know fans can live for a long time. There is a fan in my room that my roommate bought in 1984. At the time, he paid fifteen dollars for it. It is brown and putty colored plastic, with only a few metal parts, such as the cage around the blades. The blades, however, are plastic. It has been through countless moves and even dropped on several occasions. This fan, which is, mind you, 30 years old, STILL WORKS.
Yes, that is correct. I have a 30 year old fan in my room. It's actually the most powerful fan IN my room and I love it to death. I have to clean it up every few months (when it's in use), but other than that, it really requires nothing. In fact, not only is this fan still running after all this time, it has several advantages over the other fans in the house. It has a sturdy base. We have some fans that try to topple over on a daily basis. The old fan was designed to stand up (novel concept these days) and stay standing up. It's base, while heavy, is also very solid and sturdy.
As I also mentioned, the fan is powerful. It's not a huge fan, but it actually puts out more air than my two box fans. It has a smoother pace. It is far easier to take apart and clean. It can collect a great deal of dustbunnies on it, but doesn't require the level of drama that the new fans do in order to be reasonably cleaned from said bunnies.
So yeah, given all of that, I am quite disappointed that this fan that is only five years old has died on us. It frustrates me because I know that fans can last far longer than that and given people a lot more bang for their buck. Is it possible that the old fan in my room may die one day? Oh of course it is, but I'm thinking after 30 years, that is perfectly acceptable. At this point, it could almost retire.
But what is most disappointing is that fact that I know fans can live for a long time. There is a fan in my room that my roommate bought in 1984. At the time, he paid fifteen dollars for it. It is brown and putty colored plastic, with only a few metal parts, such as the cage around the blades. The blades, however, are plastic. It has been through countless moves and even dropped on several occasions. This fan, which is, mind you, 30 years old, STILL WORKS.
Yes, that is correct. I have a 30 year old fan in my room. It's actually the most powerful fan IN my room and I love it to death. I have to clean it up every few months (when it's in use), but other than that, it really requires nothing. In fact, not only is this fan still running after all this time, it has several advantages over the other fans in the house. It has a sturdy base. We have some fans that try to topple over on a daily basis. The old fan was designed to stand up (novel concept these days) and stay standing up. It's base, while heavy, is also very solid and sturdy.
As I also mentioned, the fan is powerful. It's not a huge fan, but it actually puts out more air than my two box fans. It has a smoother pace. It is far easier to take apart and clean. It can collect a great deal of dustbunnies on it, but doesn't require the level of drama that the new fans do in order to be reasonably cleaned from said bunnies.
So yeah, given all of that, I am quite disappointed that this fan that is only five years old has died on us. It frustrates me because I know that fans can last far longer than that and given people a lot more bang for their buck. Is it possible that the old fan in my room may die one day? Oh of course it is, but I'm thinking after 30 years, that is perfectly acceptable. At this point, it could almost retire.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Long Range Healing
The weather has been strange. It reached triple digits today, but cooled down quickly with the rumbling of thunder and the threat of rain. Rain never happened, but somehow, we ended the evening cooler than expected. I'm happy for this. It means I have a higher chance of being able to sleep and sleep is still quite important in terms of my life getting better.
I had a bad day emotionally. The depression was in full force again. Of course, it didn't really hit until after I'd gotten out of therapy, but by the time the sun was going down, I could feel my mood shifting with it. Darker, darker, darker. I tried my best to ignore it, but it wasn't easy. Depression is hellish. I'm doing my best not to read the news.
The scar on my arm is starting to fade in some places. There is a part of the scar line where I can run my finger and only feel smooth skin. It is nice and solid. It is also clearly and completely healed. I don't know if this will happen with the whole scar, but it would be really great if it did. I don't hate the scar, but smoothness is always a better option.
Though the scar smoothing over should give me some pause for thought. It's been several months since I had that surgery and even after all of this time, there are still changes happening. The body can reach a point of healing where you know things are safe. But it looks like it can continue on and heal past that. It's a perspective I should keep in mind when considering the other parts of my body that are healing. It's something I should keep in mind as I work through all this menopause hell.
As I said before, whenever you are recovering from something, they give you these timelines and part of you clings to them. Six weeks and I will be healed. Six weeks and everything will be better. It's never that simple. All bodies are different and heal at their own rate. They heal as they can and as much as they can. Sometimes, it just takes a long, long while.
I had a bad day emotionally. The depression was in full force again. Of course, it didn't really hit until after I'd gotten out of therapy, but by the time the sun was going down, I could feel my mood shifting with it. Darker, darker, darker. I tried my best to ignore it, but it wasn't easy. Depression is hellish. I'm doing my best not to read the news.
The scar on my arm is starting to fade in some places. There is a part of the scar line where I can run my finger and only feel smooth skin. It is nice and solid. It is also clearly and completely healed. I don't know if this will happen with the whole scar, but it would be really great if it did. I don't hate the scar, but smoothness is always a better option.
Though the scar smoothing over should give me some pause for thought. It's been several months since I had that surgery and even after all of this time, there are still changes happening. The body can reach a point of healing where you know things are safe. But it looks like it can continue on and heal past that. It's a perspective I should keep in mind when considering the other parts of my body that are healing. It's something I should keep in mind as I work through all this menopause hell.
As I said before, whenever you are recovering from something, they give you these timelines and part of you clings to them. Six weeks and I will be healed. Six weeks and everything will be better. It's never that simple. All bodies are different and heal at their own rate. They heal as they can and as much as they can. Sometimes, it just takes a long, long while.
Monday, August 18, 2014
Childhood Wonders
We've been having to park the van under the shade trees to keep it from getting hellishly hot. This usually works out pretty well, even if it means a longer trek to the house. However, this summer, we have aphids in the trees, and they have been making honeydew . . . which is a polite way of saying 'bug shit.' This has gotten all over the van. It's nasty. My roommate has been washing it off with the stuff we have around the house. Today, he decided we should just take the van to the car wash.
I think I've mentioned this before, but I love the car wash. I have, ever since I was a little kid. I'm not sure where this love came from, because I can't remember or even imagine which of my parents would have been nonlazy enough to go to one. At some point, however, it seems that one of them did, and from this experience, I developed a wonder for the process that has stated with me to this day.
I love being in the car as it's being washed. I like how the big brushes are like having some giant toothbrush go over your vehicle. I like watching the colored soaps foam up everything. I love watching the high pressure water hit everything and make it all pure and clean again. When the car is being washed, sound seems to change. Everything disappears, other than the sound of the washers and water. It's the whole world, just surrounding you in a cocoon of cleanness. It never fails to make me happy.
When we're kids, it seems like there are many, very small things that set our imaginations on fire. I believe it's important to hold onto those. Childhood, for many of us, was neither ideal nor stable. When we did have those times of peace and serenity, it felt like winning the lottery. Sometimes, even the smallest moments of knowing pure joy or wonder, of even a bit of peace when we were children can help push us through the awful moments of adulthood.
I think I've mentioned this before, but I love the car wash. I have, ever since I was a little kid. I'm not sure where this love came from, because I can't remember or even imagine which of my parents would have been nonlazy enough to go to one. At some point, however, it seems that one of them did, and from this experience, I developed a wonder for the process that has stated with me to this day.
I love being in the car as it's being washed. I like how the big brushes are like having some giant toothbrush go over your vehicle. I like watching the colored soaps foam up everything. I love watching the high pressure water hit everything and make it all pure and clean again. When the car is being washed, sound seems to change. Everything disappears, other than the sound of the washers and water. It's the whole world, just surrounding you in a cocoon of cleanness. It never fails to make me happy.
When we're kids, it seems like there are many, very small things that set our imaginations on fire. I believe it's important to hold onto those. Childhood, for many of us, was neither ideal nor stable. When we did have those times of peace and serenity, it felt like winning the lottery. Sometimes, even the smallest moments of knowing pure joy or wonder, of even a bit of peace when we were children can help push us through the awful moments of adulthood.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Mindless TV and Old Friends
Today I talked to an old friend who has also experienced the unique crapfest that is turning 40 and finding out you have cancer. Hers was in a different place and she had to have another type of surgery, but the general situation was the same. Turn 40. Get cancer. Suddenly, the facts about your life have changed. Suddenly, you're missing body parts and filled with a long list of 'what if's.' Turning 40 is supposed to be emotionally rough on people, not physically traumatic.
You know, when you have some illness happen to you, it is bad, but in a way, you can assume it's just you. It's just this thing that happened out of sequence and should have happened years from now. But when it starts happening to other people around you, people your own age, you have to face up to the idea that it isn't just a fluke. You are now at the age when this is part of your reality. It's like when everyone got driver's licences at 16 . . . only with more fear and needles. This is what happens now. And that sucks.
It was good to talk to her though. We talked about the process of life after surgery. We talked about being bored in the hospital and how in some weird way, the worst, most awful reality shows are very comforting when you're in this kind of situation. One of the best things that happened after the lipoma removal was that my best friend put the TV on Real Housewives. It's easy to ignore your pain and fear when you're watching a bunch of rich women argue about how to start a fire.
So this is what I learned this weekend. We're all getting old and death is closer to kicking us in the teeth . . . and really bad reality shows have a purpose. Is this the wisdom of old age? I hope not. It probably is though.
You know, when you have some illness happen to you, it is bad, but in a way, you can assume it's just you. It's just this thing that happened out of sequence and should have happened years from now. But when it starts happening to other people around you, people your own age, you have to face up to the idea that it isn't just a fluke. You are now at the age when this is part of your reality. It's like when everyone got driver's licences at 16 . . . only with more fear and needles. This is what happens now. And that sucks.
It was good to talk to her though. We talked about the process of life after surgery. We talked about being bored in the hospital and how in some weird way, the worst, most awful reality shows are very comforting when you're in this kind of situation. One of the best things that happened after the lipoma removal was that my best friend put the TV on Real Housewives. It's easy to ignore your pain and fear when you're watching a bunch of rich women argue about how to start a fire.
So this is what I learned this weekend. We're all getting old and death is closer to kicking us in the teeth . . . and really bad reality shows have a purpose. Is this the wisdom of old age? I hope not. It probably is though.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
I Have Nothing to Sell
I walked this morning, but due to some issues of comfort, I opted to forgo the second walk in favor of another round of pedaling. By the way, I only just now got paranoid about my word usage there. For the last several days, people probably think I've been roaming the countryside, trying to sell goods. I'm sure this was very confusing, as it implies I am both being fairly physical and making money. These things are basically unheard of when it comes to me.
I guess if I were peddling (as I have been claiming), I would probably be selling yarn crafted items. The problem being, since the surgeries, I really haven't felt like making anything. Honestly, I guess right now, the best I would have to sell is balls of yarn. Now that would be interesting. I could roam the countryside, selling half-used balls of yarn. I'm sure I'd make enough money to . . . starve.
You know, come to think of it, my ignorant word choice has given rise to some even more interesting confessions. I think, a time or two, I may have written that I was 'using the peddler,' which, of course, implies there is someone else who happens to be roaming the countryside and selling things and I am using him (or her) for some purpose. Given that I am usually discussing sweaty workouts, one can only imagine what I would be doing to this poor peddler.
See, this is the problem with being a bad speller and having spell check that doesn't understand the context of your sentence. It just goes to show that I should be more aggressive about my editing. Of course, if I fail to do this, it means you get treated to days upon days of my mistakes. It also means you get to imagine me doing all kinds of strange things. And given that this is me, I'm guessing imagining wickedness sounds more fun.
I guess if I were peddling (as I have been claiming), I would probably be selling yarn crafted items. The problem being, since the surgeries, I really haven't felt like making anything. Honestly, I guess right now, the best I would have to sell is balls of yarn. Now that would be interesting. I could roam the countryside, selling half-used balls of yarn. I'm sure I'd make enough money to . . . starve.
You know, come to think of it, my ignorant word choice has given rise to some even more interesting confessions. I think, a time or two, I may have written that I was 'using the peddler,' which, of course, implies there is someone else who happens to be roaming the countryside and selling things and I am using him (or her) for some purpose. Given that I am usually discussing sweaty workouts, one can only imagine what I would be doing to this poor peddler.
See, this is the problem with being a bad speller and having spell check that doesn't understand the context of your sentence. It just goes to show that I should be more aggressive about my editing. Of course, if I fail to do this, it means you get treated to days upon days of my mistakes. It also means you get to imagine me doing all kinds of strange things. And given that this is me, I'm guessing imagining wickedness sounds more fun.
Good Things
Today was full of hormonal depression and some levels of anxiety. I could talk about those, but I'm going to try and loop my brain back into the good stuff. It isn't easy. Sometimes, it doesn't work at all, but I still keep trying because quite often that is all I have keeping me stable.
I met my movement goals for the day. I walked. I peddled. I did leg lifts. I did some stuff with my arms. I even brought in groceries, which was a bit of added movement. Yay! There are days when I don't feel like accomplishing my movement goals. There are days when I am in too much pain to do them or the weather prevents me. Today was not one of those days. Today, all goals were met. This is awesome.
I noticed a different pattern in how I think about food. I am starting to actually like certain healthy things more than my usual junk that I crave most of the time. The best part about this is that I'm not faking it. I'm not pretending that I want the certain healthy stuff more. I actually DO enjoy it. Having to not pretend to want something is great. I'm very glad these changes are sticking.
I laughed a lot today. Despite the fact that my roommate and I were depressed and stressed out about things, we kept our conversation going. We laughed. We kept ourselves entertained and calm. We pushed past the negative stuff we were feeling and found nice places to keep our minds.
I'm very proud of what I accomplished today. I may not always have days when I can accomplish these things, but as for today, they happened. May there be more days like them.
I met my movement goals for the day. I walked. I peddled. I did leg lifts. I did some stuff with my arms. I even brought in groceries, which was a bit of added movement. Yay! There are days when I don't feel like accomplishing my movement goals. There are days when I am in too much pain to do them or the weather prevents me. Today was not one of those days. Today, all goals were met. This is awesome.
I noticed a different pattern in how I think about food. I am starting to actually like certain healthy things more than my usual junk that I crave most of the time. The best part about this is that I'm not faking it. I'm not pretending that I want the certain healthy stuff more. I actually DO enjoy it. Having to not pretend to want something is great. I'm very glad these changes are sticking.
I laughed a lot today. Despite the fact that my roommate and I were depressed and stressed out about things, we kept our conversation going. We laughed. We kept ourselves entertained and calm. We pushed past the negative stuff we were feeling and found nice places to keep our minds.
I'm very proud of what I accomplished today. I may not always have days when I can accomplish these things, but as for today, they happened. May there be more days like them.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Sim Disappointment
I downloaded the free demo of The Sims 4's Create a Sim. I wish I could say I was deeply excited about what they've done, but I'm not. I found two, and only two, aspects of the demo to be an improvement and in any way exciting. The rest of it was the same, boring, or severely limited compared to past versions. When Sims 3 had so many variations of texture options and patterns and the range of colors for any piece of clothing and unlimited color options for hair, to go back to something with so few options is so depressing.
I'd more or less decided not to buy the game, but this certainly confirmed my opinion. No pools. No toddlers. No house building. It's taking away so much of what I love about the game. I just don't see the point.
That makes me sad. Sims has been part of my life for a long time. I've spent the better part of my 30s playing the game. I made up stories. I created beautiful houses. I tortured sims without mercy . . . well, only sometimes. Quite often, I loved my sims. They were adorable to me. They were my moving little dolls. The game has gotten me through so much stress and pain and heartache. It was my comfort, my dollworld distraction.
I'll still have my Sims 3 to play with, but I guess, unless things drastically change, I won't be getting 4. I'll miss the game, but I just don't want to put that much money and time into something that looks like a downgrade to what I had before.
I'd more or less decided not to buy the game, but this certainly confirmed my opinion. No pools. No toddlers. No house building. It's taking away so much of what I love about the game. I just don't see the point.
That makes me sad. Sims has been part of my life for a long time. I've spent the better part of my 30s playing the game. I made up stories. I created beautiful houses. I tortured sims without mercy . . . well, only sometimes. Quite often, I loved my sims. They were adorable to me. They were my moving little dolls. The game has gotten me through so much stress and pain and heartache. It was my comfort, my dollworld distraction.
I'll still have my Sims 3 to play with, but I guess, unless things drastically change, I won't be getting 4. I'll miss the game, but I just don't want to put that much money and time into something that looks like a downgrade to what I had before.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Hobbies and How to Choose Them
Yesterday, the blogging site Jezebel talked about how their parent company Gawker Media was failing to address the online harassment they were receiving. In their comments sections, people who hate Jezebel (because it is a mostly feminist blog) were posting very graphically violent depictions of rape and hardcore pornography. They were also threatening to rape and kill the writers of the blog, and even some of the commentators. The staff of Jezebel complained to the parent company, but found a lot of resistance. They knew if some other company was doing this to their employees, they would talk about it on the blog. With that in mind, they blew the whistle on their own company.
Today, as some kind of resistance against Jez discussing the harassment, pornographic .gifs began to appear on every blog owned by Gawker. The comments sections had to be shut down in some cases, in others, readers were warned on the main page that things were going haywire. For the first time, many of the various blogs' readers got the first hand experience of what Jezebel's readers and writers have to experience, almost every day.A lot of them were shocked, and they should be. The stuff these people were posting is pretty awful.
This leads me to my main question about the whole thing. Who in the hell DOES this kind of thing? I just can't wrap my mind around who honestly has enough time and attention to go to places on the internet that they do not like and make jackasses of themselves. It baffles me. Why would you do this? Aren't there better hobbies to have? Like, basically any other hobby?
There are places online I don't like. Crazy religious places. Crazy political places. Crazy both places. Michael Bay's site. And if it is a place I do not like . . . my response is to not go there. I don't go there. I don't read articles from those places. I don't look at links from them. I let them live their lives and I live mine. I cannot imagine any situation where I would spend all my time there causing problems and being a little shithead terror to people.
It's like that homophobic dude from Canada who went to one of the Canadian pride parades pretending to be a member of the Pastafarians. They went so far as to set up a website for their church and other things to make them look legit. They spent well over $1000 on condoms with anti-gay messages. Honestly, who goes through that much work just to be an asshole to people? Why would you do that? Why would you spend that much money, spend that much time planning, and dedicate that much of your life just to make other people miserable?
If you are someone who is doing this kind of stuff, just, seriously, stop. You're not getting your message across, whatever the hell it happens to be. You're not doing anything to improve any cause. All you are doing is making people really not like you. I think there are better ways to spend your time. There are tons of hobbies out there that can be fun and practical and constructive, and most of all, they don't have to involve you being awful to other people. You can occupy your mind and your hands. You can learn new things. You can, perhaps, make some friends. You can put some positive energy out there. And most of all, you can entertain yourself in a way that doesn't mess with other people. How nice would that be?
Today, as some kind of resistance against Jez discussing the harassment, pornographic .gifs began to appear on every blog owned by Gawker. The comments sections had to be shut down in some cases, in others, readers were warned on the main page that things were going haywire. For the first time, many of the various blogs' readers got the first hand experience of what Jezebel's readers and writers have to experience, almost every day.A lot of them were shocked, and they should be. The stuff these people were posting is pretty awful.
This leads me to my main question about the whole thing. Who in the hell DOES this kind of thing? I just can't wrap my mind around who honestly has enough time and attention to go to places on the internet that they do not like and make jackasses of themselves. It baffles me. Why would you do this? Aren't there better hobbies to have? Like, basically any other hobby?
There are places online I don't like. Crazy religious places. Crazy political places. Crazy both places. Michael Bay's site. And if it is a place I do not like . . . my response is to not go there. I don't go there. I don't read articles from those places. I don't look at links from them. I let them live their lives and I live mine. I cannot imagine any situation where I would spend all my time there causing problems and being a little shithead terror to people.
It's like that homophobic dude from Canada who went to one of the Canadian pride parades pretending to be a member of the Pastafarians. They went so far as to set up a website for their church and other things to make them look legit. They spent well over $1000 on condoms with anti-gay messages. Honestly, who goes through that much work just to be an asshole to people? Why would you do that? Why would you spend that much money, spend that much time planning, and dedicate that much of your life just to make other people miserable?
If you are someone who is doing this kind of stuff, just, seriously, stop. You're not getting your message across, whatever the hell it happens to be. You're not doing anything to improve any cause. All you are doing is making people really not like you. I think there are better ways to spend your time. There are tons of hobbies out there that can be fun and practical and constructive, and most of all, they don't have to involve you being awful to other people. You can occupy your mind and your hands. You can learn new things. You can, perhaps, make some friends. You can put some positive energy out there. And most of all, you can entertain yourself in a way that doesn't mess with other people. How nice would that be?
Monday, August 11, 2014
Oh Captain, my Captain
At one point today, my FB feed suddenly became a constant outpouring of news about Robin Williams' death. It was shocking to discover this happened and almost a little overwhelming to see the amount of emotion it caused. Robin Williams meant a lot to many people. He was a brilliant actor, a gifted comic, and a fixture in the psyche of many people.
I am old enough to remember him on Mork and Mindy. He was such an oddball character, perfectly suited to be an alien. I don't think a lot of us realized at the time that much of this was how Robin was quite often. As I got older, his career path widened. People discovered he was not only funny, but quite amazing when doing serious roles. Mind you, Robin did some pretty awful films as well, but I think he did more memorable ones that bad ones. Hell, even some of the bad ones are pretty memorable.
Last year, he returned to television again and did a sitcom called The Crazy Ones. I liked it a lot. It wasn't perfect, but it had a lot of potential. Watching Robin Williams and Brad Garrett play off each other was a lot of fun. They had beautiful timing. The show was canceled and very soon it was reported that Williams was going to rehab. And then . . . this.
I'm going to miss him. He's been part of my life as long as I can remember. Mad, brilliant, soulful, and always, very clearly tortured. I hope he finds peace.
I am old enough to remember him on Mork and Mindy. He was such an oddball character, perfectly suited to be an alien. I don't think a lot of us realized at the time that much of this was how Robin was quite often. As I got older, his career path widened. People discovered he was not only funny, but quite amazing when doing serious roles. Mind you, Robin did some pretty awful films as well, but I think he did more memorable ones that bad ones. Hell, even some of the bad ones are pretty memorable.
Last year, he returned to television again and did a sitcom called The Crazy Ones. I liked it a lot. It wasn't perfect, but it had a lot of potential. Watching Robin Williams and Brad Garrett play off each other was a lot of fun. They had beautiful timing. The show was canceled and very soon it was reported that Williams was going to rehab. And then . . . this.
I'm going to miss him. He's been part of my life as long as I can remember. Mad, brilliant, soulful, and always, very clearly tortured. I hope he finds peace.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Annoying Weather
Today was one of those days when the weather was just awful. It wasn't hot enough to really allow us to turn on the AC, but it wasn't cool enough for it to be anywhere near comfortable. It was just hot and muggy and miserable. The cats hid in bedrooms and we just tried to make as little motion as possible. I still did the peddler for a while though. It still wasn't fun.
Anyway, the one decent thing about the weather is that it's been cooling down at night. This means we're getting better sleep than we normally get in August. Good sleep in August is almost unheard of. Normally this time of year, I'm just kind of trying to ride things out until September when it will be a little less hot. Right now, I'm still having to pull a blanket on me around 3 or so . . . at least, I have to until the hot flashes start. Damn them.
The tech from Sudden Link is supposed to come tomorrow. He is supposed to show up in the AM hours, which means I won't be going to do shopping with my roommate. This is the first time I'll be staying home from shopping since I was allowed to drive again. It's going to be strange, because I somewhat associate staying home from shopping with being in pain/sick/bleeding all over the place. Maybe after this, I can just associate it with the annoying cable company!
Anyway, the one decent thing about the weather is that it's been cooling down at night. This means we're getting better sleep than we normally get in August. Good sleep in August is almost unheard of. Normally this time of year, I'm just kind of trying to ride things out until September when it will be a little less hot. Right now, I'm still having to pull a blanket on me around 3 or so . . . at least, I have to until the hot flashes start. Damn them.
The tech from Sudden Link is supposed to come tomorrow. He is supposed to show up in the AM hours, which means I won't be going to do shopping with my roommate. This is the first time I'll be staying home from shopping since I was allowed to drive again. It's going to be strange, because I somewhat associate staying home from shopping with being in pain/sick/bleeding all over the place. Maybe after this, I can just associate it with the annoying cable company!
Friday, August 8, 2014
Doc Appointment
The doctor's appointment went well. She seemed happy with my progress since having the hysterectomy and suggested some things to make the transition easier. She also told me I could do my observation stuff to make sure it doesn't return in her office, which means no more going to the gynecologist! I can't think of any one thing that could have made me as happy as her telling me that. I really did not like going there.
I shall see her again at the end of September and then my doctor in Tulsa in November. I am hoping that by then, thinks will be improved enough to where I feel like some kind of human again. That would be awesome. Though I'm not sure I will still feel like the human I was before. My roommate bought me some shirts that are a size smaller than what I currently wear. They didn't fit perfectly, but they fit. And the place where they fit the best was through the shoulders, which is just completely weird for me, after having to deal with years of a lipoma on my arm, It always distorted the way clothing fit me.
So I had a better day than I did yesterday. I'm happy about that. Really, the worst part about today was that it was ungodly hot for most of it. That wasn't fun. However, I would take a million hot days to know I don't have to go back to the gynecologist!
I shall see her again at the end of September and then my doctor in Tulsa in November. I am hoping that by then, thinks will be improved enough to where I feel like some kind of human again. That would be awesome. Though I'm not sure I will still feel like the human I was before. My roommate bought me some shirts that are a size smaller than what I currently wear. They didn't fit perfectly, but they fit. And the place where they fit the best was through the shoulders, which is just completely weird for me, after having to deal with years of a lipoma on my arm, It always distorted the way clothing fit me.
So I had a better day than I did yesterday. I'm happy about that. Really, the worst part about today was that it was ungodly hot for most of it. That wasn't fun. However, I would take a million hot days to know I don't have to go back to the gynecologist!
Thursday, August 7, 2014
A Word to the Walking
It's past ten pm and I'm still hot. I'm on the edge of the nausea that comes with a hot flash. I've also been in a mood for several hours now that I just haven't been able to shake. I really don't anticipating it being a great night. That sucks too because I'm going to the doctor tomorrow and I'd like to show up there in as good a state as possible. Though, honestly, I wonder sometimes what 'good state' even would be for me these days.
You know, I've been walking for over a month now, and if you are someone who is starting to walk from a state of being very overweight, let me give you some warnings. First warning, and I've talked about this one before, walking hurts. It not only hurts while it happens, it hurts later. It can hurt for hours. And as your body adjusts and things shift, you will hurt even more. Sometimes these pains go away, sometimes, that takes a while.
When you read about exercise (and people who are just starting out tend to do that), you read things that just might be true for less heavy people, but probably won't be true for you . . . at least, not for a while. First of all, endurance is a slow thing. You're not going to feel able to get around better within a few days of starting to walk, or even after a month. In fact, it may take several months before you really feel that advantage. The same goes for feeling more energy. In fact, that one is alluding me right now and as I've written, I'm very frustrated about it. The walking and other exercise isn't giving me more energy. It's adding to my constant exhaustion.
I don't know. Maybe the energy is going to take a while as well. Maybe a year from now, I'll be full of energy and pep and just as happy as I can be. But right now, that isn't there. And I will admit, this can be very very discouraging. I wake up in the morning, tired from a night of being in pain and not sleeping well, and realize I have to face a bunch of exercise that I don't want to do. I know it will make me even more tired. I know I won't feel better after it happens. I question why I'm even doing this. I question if all The Stuff they say about the benefits of working out are even true.
Really, it's okay to be discouraged. It's okay to feel like this is going no where. It's okay to doubt. It's okay to be really angry about the process. However, I don't think that any of those should be enough reason to stop. Discouragement has always been enough to stop in the past . . . and so far, that has gotten me no where. This time, I'm doing to do my best to put a little bit of faith into the concept and push myself along. I'm not very good at faith. I've always been far more comfortable with doubting and then giving up. This time though, I know I'm somewhat running out of options. Having faith that the strength and energy and other goodies will show up is pretty much all I have left.
You know, I've been walking for over a month now, and if you are someone who is starting to walk from a state of being very overweight, let me give you some warnings. First warning, and I've talked about this one before, walking hurts. It not only hurts while it happens, it hurts later. It can hurt for hours. And as your body adjusts and things shift, you will hurt even more. Sometimes these pains go away, sometimes, that takes a while.
When you read about exercise (and people who are just starting out tend to do that), you read things that just might be true for less heavy people, but probably won't be true for you . . . at least, not for a while. First of all, endurance is a slow thing. You're not going to feel able to get around better within a few days of starting to walk, or even after a month. In fact, it may take several months before you really feel that advantage. The same goes for feeling more energy. In fact, that one is alluding me right now and as I've written, I'm very frustrated about it. The walking and other exercise isn't giving me more energy. It's adding to my constant exhaustion.
I don't know. Maybe the energy is going to take a while as well. Maybe a year from now, I'll be full of energy and pep and just as happy as I can be. But right now, that isn't there. And I will admit, this can be very very discouraging. I wake up in the morning, tired from a night of being in pain and not sleeping well, and realize I have to face a bunch of exercise that I don't want to do. I know it will make me even more tired. I know I won't feel better after it happens. I question why I'm even doing this. I question if all The Stuff they say about the benefits of working out are even true.
Really, it's okay to be discouraged. It's okay to feel like this is going no where. It's okay to doubt. It's okay to be really angry about the process. However, I don't think that any of those should be enough reason to stop. Discouragement has always been enough to stop in the past . . . and so far, that has gotten me no where. This time, I'm doing to do my best to put a little bit of faith into the concept and push myself along. I'm not very good at faith. I've always been far more comfortable with doubting and then giving up. This time though, I know I'm somewhat running out of options. Having faith that the strength and energy and other goodies will show up is pretty much all I have left.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Clem and Child
The current outdoor kitty named Clementine has become a father. Now, I don't think he technically or biologically became a father, but in every other sense, he has. Actually, given Clem's stunted physicality, I don't think he COULD father kittens, which is a good thing. We don't need more kittens. We already have one as it is . . .which is why he is now a father.
A few weeks ago, my roommate noticed there was a kitten darting around the porch. He never stayed long enough for him to get a good look at him, but he knew he was there. We both hoped he had a home or at least a mama cat to take care of him. We're not sure he has either, but somehow he has managed to survive. We would take him in, but he is terrified of humans. In fact, he is mostly terrified of everything except Clementine.
The new little kitten LOVES Clem. He hangs out with him as much as he can. Even though he is afraid of us, when Clem is on the porch, he will also be brave and stay on the porch, so that he can continue in his quest to sleep on Clementine as much as possible. He follows him all the time. If the older cat is in the front of the house, the kitten will be in the front of the house. If he is lounging under Rabbitkiller, the kitten will be right next to him. When I see Clem walking from one side to the other, very soon, the kitten will be scampering along behind him.
Clementine seems rather less enthused about this new arrangement. He isn't mean to the kitten, but he certainly doesn't seem to appreciate him laying against him in hot weather. He doesn't seem to enjoy it when the kitten bounds over him. I don't think he likes it much when he eats his food. I doubt he enjoys being kneaded on. It's possible we saw him trying to nurse the other day.
Even if he doesn't really like this intrusion into his life, I think it's good for him. Clem is a bit too wild to really become an indoor cat, but he craves a lot of attention. Since the kitten has come into his life, he's been less apt to stand at the door and whine to be petted. I think he would rather just be left alone. The kitten has added new definition to his existence, as he has done for the kitten.
It's also been a lot of fun for us to watch them. Clem's avoidance of the kitten and the kitten's awkward adoration of him can bring lots of entertainment. Well, at least it does for the humans in the house. The indoor cats are less than pleased about the new kitten showing up. But then again, they're bitches and never see the humor in anything.
A few weeks ago, my roommate noticed there was a kitten darting around the porch. He never stayed long enough for him to get a good look at him, but he knew he was there. We both hoped he had a home or at least a mama cat to take care of him. We're not sure he has either, but somehow he has managed to survive. We would take him in, but he is terrified of humans. In fact, he is mostly terrified of everything except Clementine.
The new little kitten LOVES Clem. He hangs out with him as much as he can. Even though he is afraid of us, when Clem is on the porch, he will also be brave and stay on the porch, so that he can continue in his quest to sleep on Clementine as much as possible. He follows him all the time. If the older cat is in the front of the house, the kitten will be in the front of the house. If he is lounging under Rabbitkiller, the kitten will be right next to him. When I see Clem walking from one side to the other, very soon, the kitten will be scampering along behind him.
Clementine seems rather less enthused about this new arrangement. He isn't mean to the kitten, but he certainly doesn't seem to appreciate him laying against him in hot weather. He doesn't seem to enjoy it when the kitten bounds over him. I don't think he likes it much when he eats his food. I doubt he enjoys being kneaded on. It's possible we saw him trying to nurse the other day.
Even if he doesn't really like this intrusion into his life, I think it's good for him. Clem is a bit too wild to really become an indoor cat, but he craves a lot of attention. Since the kitten has come into his life, he's been less apt to stand at the door and whine to be petted. I think he would rather just be left alone. The kitten has added new definition to his existence, as he has done for the kitten.
It's also been a lot of fun for us to watch them. Clem's avoidance of the kitten and the kitten's awkward adoration of him can bring lots of entertainment. Well, at least it does for the humans in the house. The indoor cats are less than pleased about the new kitten showing up. But then again, they're bitches and never see the humor in anything.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Dealing with Exhaustion
We ran some errands today, went to my roommate's dentist appointment, and ate a late lunch. None of it was overly taxing on me, or rather, it shouldn't have been. Mostly my role in these events consisted of sitting, riding in the van, walking a little, and sitting some more. And yet, I am exhausted.
Even though I am doing more exercise now than I have in many, many years, I am still very exhausted most of the time. I know this is understandable. At one point during the first part of the year, I lost a lot of blood. I have been through a lot of surgeries. I had a significant portion of my reproductive system removed. There have been sleepless nights, hormonal upheavals, and lots of taking off my clothes in front of strangers.
Exhaustion though, especially in combination with depression, can be quite a battle. Five minutes of peddling on the stationary peddler (which is not so stationary) and I feel like I could die at any moment. I fold some towels and I consider myself quite accomplished. Loading the pop into the slots in the fridge feels like a victory. I have to talk myself into walking. I have to talk myself into doing my daily tasks.
I think physical exhaustion is probably the most difficult to deal with when it comes to dealing with other people. Many who suffer from exhaustion have to do so while being around people who act like they are faking it. One of the many ways I have been blessed through this situation is that I am living with someone who understands exhaustion all too well himself. He knows what it can do to someone. He knows how hard it can be. He has been very understanding about this.
If you are someone who is lucky enough to have never experienced long term physical (and mental and emotional) exhaustion, I would encourage you not to dismiss it in others. When you're young and healthy, it is so easy to assume you will always feel that way. Sure, you may get tired, but after a few hours of sleep, you'll bounce back. That is NOT what exhaustion is. Exhaustion is not cured by sleep. In fact, sometimes sleeping makes you even more tired, especially if you ill.
All I can tell you about how to get past this is what I'm trying to do. I keep moving. I keep fluids in my body. I try my best to get enough sleep. Hopefully, this will work. I mean, it hasn't so far, but, you know, maybe in a year or two.
Even though I am doing more exercise now than I have in many, many years, I am still very exhausted most of the time. I know this is understandable. At one point during the first part of the year, I lost a lot of blood. I have been through a lot of surgeries. I had a significant portion of my reproductive system removed. There have been sleepless nights, hormonal upheavals, and lots of taking off my clothes in front of strangers.
Exhaustion though, especially in combination with depression, can be quite a battle. Five minutes of peddling on the stationary peddler (which is not so stationary) and I feel like I could die at any moment. I fold some towels and I consider myself quite accomplished. Loading the pop into the slots in the fridge feels like a victory. I have to talk myself into walking. I have to talk myself into doing my daily tasks.
I think physical exhaustion is probably the most difficult to deal with when it comes to dealing with other people. Many who suffer from exhaustion have to do so while being around people who act like they are faking it. One of the many ways I have been blessed through this situation is that I am living with someone who understands exhaustion all too well himself. He knows what it can do to someone. He knows how hard it can be. He has been very understanding about this.
If you are someone who is lucky enough to have never experienced long term physical (and mental and emotional) exhaustion, I would encourage you not to dismiss it in others. When you're young and healthy, it is so easy to assume you will always feel that way. Sure, you may get tired, but after a few hours of sleep, you'll bounce back. That is NOT what exhaustion is. Exhaustion is not cured by sleep. In fact, sometimes sleeping makes you even more tired, especially if you ill.
All I can tell you about how to get past this is what I'm trying to do. I keep moving. I keep fluids in my body. I try my best to get enough sleep. Hopefully, this will work. I mean, it hasn't so far, but, you know, maybe in a year or two.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Mom Memories
Every month, my roommate gets his medications delivered to our house. The woman who delivers them is friendly and talkative. Every month it always kind of makes me a little sad because she sounds remarkably like my mother. What is even more odd is the fact that she somewhat looks like my mother. My roommate and I have discussed this a lot. We know there is no way they could be related. Even still, she is so much like her that it always sends me just a little bit down memory lane.
My mom was such an unconventional woman in so many ways. When people think of their mom's scent, it's usually feminine things or the smells of their cooking. My mom smelled like nicotine and sweat. These scents worked their way into her clothes and even when she was clean, there was still a lingering trace of it. I always found this comforting though, because it was Mom. It was part of who she was and how I knew her.
My mom was such an unconventional woman in so many ways. When people think of their mom's scent, it's usually feminine things or the smells of their cooking. My mom smelled like nicotine and sweat. These scents worked their way into her clothes and even when she was clean, there was still a lingering trace of it. I always found this comforting though, because it was Mom. It was part of who she was and how I knew her.
Mom never was into the traditional feminine clothing either. She usually wore jeans or work pants. She was always in t-shirts. Her shirts were usually faded and ragged at the edges. My mother never wore heels. Instead, her feet were either in work boots or flipflops. Her hair was in a bun. Sometimes this was covered with a bandanna. Bandannas will always remind me of her.
We had a complicated relationship. I won't say she was the easiest person to handle, but she was still my mother. When I have these moments like today when I am around someone who reminds me of her, a lot of the better memories come flooding back. I'm grateful for there to be times when it's just the good stuff, just the familiar stuff. Sometimes we need that.
We had a complicated relationship. I won't say she was the easiest person to handle, but she was still my mother. When I have these moments like today when I am around someone who reminds me of her, a lot of the better memories come flooding back. I'm grateful for there to be times when it's just the good stuff, just the familiar stuff. Sometimes we need that.
Sunday, August 3, 2014
Weekend of Depression
I didn't blog last night because the depression was setting in again. It wasn't any better today, though I did my best to try and ignore it. Seriously, I'm glad I'm taking Happy Meds. I can't even imagine how sucktastic my depression would be without them. I feel dead inside. Actually, feeling dead would be better than feeling this.
I forced myself to walk, but it was certainly a forced situation. In fact, I basically forced myself to do everything today. All the while I was forcing myself to do things, I just kept thinking about how futile all of it is. I need goals again but right now I can't remember how to get those. Goals kind of require a level of hope I just don't think I can feel right now. Maybe if I can get myself to relax more. Maybe if I can get myself to calm down.
Depression like this is a lot like trying to walk when you're waist deep in mud. It's slow going. It's exhausting. With every step, you wonder why you're doing it. You have no good answers for that. Most of the time, you feel like you have nothing. I have to really watch myself when I get to this point because I can get trapped in that Nothingness. I really shouldn't do that.
Anyway, I'll just keep trudging forward. Hopefully things will get better.
I forced myself to walk, but it was certainly a forced situation. In fact, I basically forced myself to do everything today. All the while I was forcing myself to do things, I just kept thinking about how futile all of it is. I need goals again but right now I can't remember how to get those. Goals kind of require a level of hope I just don't think I can feel right now. Maybe if I can get myself to relax more. Maybe if I can get myself to calm down.
Depression like this is a lot like trying to walk when you're waist deep in mud. It's slow going. It's exhausting. With every step, you wonder why you're doing it. You have no good answers for that. Most of the time, you feel like you have nothing. I have to really watch myself when I get to this point because I can get trapped in that Nothingness. I really shouldn't do that.
Anyway, I'll just keep trudging forward. Hopefully things will get better.
Friday, August 1, 2014
I Survived July
Like yesterday, I haven't had the best of days. It's been another day when I felt depresses and kind of lost about everything that is going on. There has been pain and discomfort today. There has been a nasty little bout of hot flashes. There was even a copy of my statement from my insurance about all the activities I've been through.
I'm not going to focus on that though. Despite what my mind is telling me, I'm going to write about the positive stuff. There have been a lot of changes in the last month and while many of them have been difficult, I have survived them. That is something to celebrate.
At the beginning of last month, I was still very much raw nerves about this whole process. I couldn't quite articulate what was happening to me. In a lot of ways, I really didn't even understand the depth of it. There is a magnitude to losing your reproductive system and I think it's going to take me quite a while to come to terms with this. Even if it was just a physical loss, it would be difficult. This is also an ongoing hormonal adjustment. Every day, I am still battling with this adjustment. So far, I've survived.
In this month, I have also settled the questions about radiation. My surgeon told me it would have to happen and I accepted this, but when I spoke to an actual radiologist, she didn't think it would be needed. I've struggled a lot with the fear of this procedure this month. I read quite a bit about what happens during the process and it didn't sound fun. There could have been some difficult side effects. It is such a relief to know that it doesn't have to happen.
The biggest thing I can do to aid in my healing is to increase my physical activity. In the last month, I've done this. I've been walking as often as the weather and my body would permit, usually at least once a day, often twice a day. I have increased the distance I walk and tried to train my body to do this in a way that is most beneficial to my system. This hasn't been easy for me. Often, walking has come at the price of later discomfort and exhaustion. Sometimes, there has been a lot of pain. I don't like it, but I know it needs to happen. I feel quite a bit of relief when it's finished for the day. I feel quite accomplished.
So this was July. A month of hardships, of little victories, of moments of panic and despair. I didn't like all of it, but I survived it. I survived it.
I'm not going to focus on that though. Despite what my mind is telling me, I'm going to write about the positive stuff. There have been a lot of changes in the last month and while many of them have been difficult, I have survived them. That is something to celebrate.
At the beginning of last month, I was still very much raw nerves about this whole process. I couldn't quite articulate what was happening to me. In a lot of ways, I really didn't even understand the depth of it. There is a magnitude to losing your reproductive system and I think it's going to take me quite a while to come to terms with this. Even if it was just a physical loss, it would be difficult. This is also an ongoing hormonal adjustment. Every day, I am still battling with this adjustment. So far, I've survived.
In this month, I have also settled the questions about radiation. My surgeon told me it would have to happen and I accepted this, but when I spoke to an actual radiologist, she didn't think it would be needed. I've struggled a lot with the fear of this procedure this month. I read quite a bit about what happens during the process and it didn't sound fun. There could have been some difficult side effects. It is such a relief to know that it doesn't have to happen.
The biggest thing I can do to aid in my healing is to increase my physical activity. In the last month, I've done this. I've been walking as often as the weather and my body would permit, usually at least once a day, often twice a day. I have increased the distance I walk and tried to train my body to do this in a way that is most beneficial to my system. This hasn't been easy for me. Often, walking has come at the price of later discomfort and exhaustion. Sometimes, there has been a lot of pain. I don't like it, but I know it needs to happen. I feel quite a bit of relief when it's finished for the day. I feel quite accomplished.
So this was July. A month of hardships, of little victories, of moments of panic and despair. I didn't like all of it, but I survived it. I survived it.
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