I'm BAACKKKKKKKKKKKkk
...I know, I wouldn't believe me either.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Late night ramblings
There I was - All snug in bed, air conditioner blasting out a cool 70 degrees (considering it was at 86 earlier...) but I couldn't sleep. Not the normal insomnia, but rather the infamous I-need-to-write prodding me out of bed. I say infamous because this is what usually happens.
I get out of bed, boot up the computer (god how old am I?) and then... nothing. NOTHING!!!! I'm shouting because it is VERY annoying.
This particular time:
My mind is full of things to write, ideas, stories, things that happened today, yesterday, last week, five years ago, you get the idea. So I roll to my side table, pull out a notebook, and slip unnoticed out of bed. Silently padding to the door, I slowly pull it open in hopes that the creaking hinges don't give me away. If that doesn't the squeaky floorboards in the living room will. It's hotter in the living room but not as hot as before when we decided to cook with the oven and George Foreman (the grill, not the man). There is a slight breeze coming through the two windows. I sit down and open the notebook...to find that it's the one whose shell came away from the pages. Yes, that's right. I have a cover and some pages that I stapled together. No, I did not make my own notebook, although that's a good idea so another bored night. This notebook I got free from CVS. No wonder it fell apart. At this moment it is sitting on my kitchen table receiving a dose of ghetto Elmer's glue held down my a 20 pk of fiber one bars (oats and chocolate, of course.)
With the notebook otherwise occupied I then decided I needed the computer after all. Slipping back into the bedroom, the sound of a laptop coming up off my wooden dresser awakens the other occupant. I am asked nicely to turn off "cold town." After turning of the air conditioner and announcing that I'm awake, I exit stage left. 9 times out of 10 I'll be the only one that remembers that exchange.
So now I'm here. What did I originally want to write? Let me think...
Earlier I was thinking about college. In the five years that I was there I had some good times, some bad times, some really great times, some I wish I could forget times, and I took some classes as well. I know a lot of people think back and say, oh I wish I did that differently, or I totally would go to that class more if I could do it over again (right - tell me another one) but I secretly wish I could do it all over again. This isn't another If I Knew What I Did Now Back Then moment. It's far deeper than that. I wish I could go back to do college as Me. Sean is a much nicer person. He's kind, independent, and thinks he's funny. My other persona was needy, vulnerable, shy, and while funny, a little bit of a loser. Not to say that I was a bad person, but I wasn't Me. Maybe I'm doing a bad job at explaining this...
I spent so much of my college life wrapped up in being someone I wasn't. My freshman year I had a pair of girl jeans from the Gap. (Later that year I gave them to my girlfriend of that era.) I lived with females, in all female halls, used female bathrooms (I never did get used to that.) I didn't fit in anywhere. Sure, I fit myself in places, but it was more like shoving the square peg through the circular hole. My academics always were backstage while my social life took front and center. I always needed to fit in someone, be someone to anybody, and that didn't do anyone any good.
I graduated a nervous wreck.
A few months after graduation I called a therapist. A year later I started testosterone. It's hard to believe I've only been on hormones for a little over two years. It feels like so much longer.
I walk down the street with my head held high... well, usually bobbing to my ipod and, as of late, plodding more than walking. I smile more. I'm less paranoid. I don't assume people are talking about me. When I speak, My voice comes out, not a voice I don't recognize. My name is called where ever I go, not one I barely register.
I was asked yesterday if it was strange to me that for 23 years of my life I had, went by, and was known by another name. Strange doesn't quite encapsulate enough emotion. Today I opened my suitcase to pack for my upcoming vacation and I found a sticker from a prescription I got in Canada when I was 16 and got sick. It had my old name on it. I ripped it off.
I don't like seeing my old name because it brings back the emotion it held.
The problem with these if I could do it all again scenarios is we tend to take for granted how much we know now. When I was eight teen had a known the truth about myself, would I have been ready for the next step? If I had the information, could I have sought out the help I needed? I'm not sure I was in the right place to do that for myself. I do know that having the information would have been helpful. It also would have scared the shit out of me. But at the very least I would have had a name for what I was feeling - what I deep down knew the problem was.
I often think back to moments in my childhood that seemed innocuous at the time - By the time I was 6 my mother could no longer stand to take me back to school shopping for clothes. She made my father do it because he had a better shot at picking out something I liked. 10 years old, bedroom painted dark blue with a soccer border, bed blue metal bunk beds. 12 years old, stole my father's socks and wore his pants to school. The time I bought a skateboard for $15 at Caldors and fell asleep in the tent I pitched in my room clutching the skateboard like a teddy bear. The fact I had a TENT pitched in my bedroom! Everyone assumed I was a tomboy and would grow out of it. Well, everyone but me. My senior year of high school I tried to grow out of it because I thought that's what I should do. My mom was so happy when I bought the aforementioned girlie jeans and tops to match. Seriously, I think it lasted a month. All my friends at the time can thank me for the hardly used clothing I gave them.
By the time I got to college I was a gender bending mess. A masochistic mess who was too frightened to even call to order a pizza. (I got over that fast.) I look back now and I wonder what would have happened if I knew and I acted. Who would have supported me? Would my friends change? Would my experience change who I am, where I am now? I know I will never know these answers, and this is completely disregarding my health. If I knew more about my health I would have ordered less pizza.
One thing I do know is I'm much happier being myself than any me I pretended to be.
I get out of bed, boot up the computer (god how old am I?) and then... nothing. NOTHING!!!! I'm shouting because it is VERY annoying.
This particular time:
My mind is full of things to write, ideas, stories, things that happened today, yesterday, last week, five years ago, you get the idea. So I roll to my side table, pull out a notebook, and slip unnoticed out of bed. Silently padding to the door, I slowly pull it open in hopes that the creaking hinges don't give me away. If that doesn't the squeaky floorboards in the living room will. It's hotter in the living room but not as hot as before when we decided to cook with the oven and George Foreman (the grill, not the man). There is a slight breeze coming through the two windows. I sit down and open the notebook...to find that it's the one whose shell came away from the pages. Yes, that's right. I have a cover and some pages that I stapled together. No, I did not make my own notebook, although that's a good idea so another bored night. This notebook I got free from CVS. No wonder it fell apart. At this moment it is sitting on my kitchen table receiving a dose of ghetto Elmer's glue held down my a 20 pk of fiber one bars (oats and chocolate, of course.)
With the notebook otherwise occupied I then decided I needed the computer after all. Slipping back into the bedroom, the sound of a laptop coming up off my wooden dresser awakens the other occupant. I am asked nicely to turn off "cold town." After turning of the air conditioner and announcing that I'm awake, I exit stage left. 9 times out of 10 I'll be the only one that remembers that exchange.
So now I'm here. What did I originally want to write? Let me think...
Earlier I was thinking about college. In the five years that I was there I had some good times, some bad times, some really great times, some I wish I could forget times, and I took some classes as well. I know a lot of people think back and say, oh I wish I did that differently, or I totally would go to that class more if I could do it over again (right - tell me another one) but I secretly wish I could do it all over again. This isn't another If I Knew What I Did Now Back Then moment. It's far deeper than that. I wish I could go back to do college as Me. Sean is a much nicer person. He's kind, independent, and thinks he's funny. My other persona was needy, vulnerable, shy, and while funny, a little bit of a loser. Not to say that I was a bad person, but I wasn't Me. Maybe I'm doing a bad job at explaining this...
I spent so much of my college life wrapped up in being someone I wasn't. My freshman year I had a pair of girl jeans from the Gap. (Later that year I gave them to my girlfriend of that era.) I lived with females, in all female halls, used female bathrooms (I never did get used to that.) I didn't fit in anywhere. Sure, I fit myself in places, but it was more like shoving the square peg through the circular hole. My academics always were backstage while my social life took front and center. I always needed to fit in someone, be someone to anybody, and that didn't do anyone any good.
I graduated a nervous wreck.
A few months after graduation I called a therapist. A year later I started testosterone. It's hard to believe I've only been on hormones for a little over two years. It feels like so much longer.
I walk down the street with my head held high... well, usually bobbing to my ipod and, as of late, plodding more than walking. I smile more. I'm less paranoid. I don't assume people are talking about me. When I speak, My voice comes out, not a voice I don't recognize. My name is called where ever I go, not one I barely register.
I was asked yesterday if it was strange to me that for 23 years of my life I had, went by, and was known by another name. Strange doesn't quite encapsulate enough emotion. Today I opened my suitcase to pack for my upcoming vacation and I found a sticker from a prescription I got in Canada when I was 16 and got sick. It had my old name on it. I ripped it off.
I don't like seeing my old name because it brings back the emotion it held.
The problem with these if I could do it all again scenarios is we tend to take for granted how much we know now. When I was eight teen had a known the truth about myself, would I have been ready for the next step? If I had the information, could I have sought out the help I needed? I'm not sure I was in the right place to do that for myself. I do know that having the information would have been helpful. It also would have scared the shit out of me. But at the very least I would have had a name for what I was feeling - what I deep down knew the problem was.
I often think back to moments in my childhood that seemed innocuous at the time - By the time I was 6 my mother could no longer stand to take me back to school shopping for clothes. She made my father do it because he had a better shot at picking out something I liked. 10 years old, bedroom painted dark blue with a soccer border, bed blue metal bunk beds. 12 years old, stole my father's socks and wore his pants to school. The time I bought a skateboard for $15 at Caldors and fell asleep in the tent I pitched in my room clutching the skateboard like a teddy bear. The fact I had a TENT pitched in my bedroom! Everyone assumed I was a tomboy and would grow out of it. Well, everyone but me. My senior year of high school I tried to grow out of it because I thought that's what I should do. My mom was so happy when I bought the aforementioned girlie jeans and tops to match. Seriously, I think it lasted a month. All my friends at the time can thank me for the hardly used clothing I gave them.
By the time I got to college I was a gender bending mess. A masochistic mess who was too frightened to even call to order a pizza. (I got over that fast.) I look back now and I wonder what would have happened if I knew and I acted. Who would have supported me? Would my friends change? Would my experience change who I am, where I am now? I know I will never know these answers, and this is completely disregarding my health. If I knew more about my health I would have ordered less pizza.
One thing I do know is I'm much happier being myself than any me I pretended to be.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
For serious?
Today I went to Saints for a 7:30am bone density test. It was my first time outside since I came home from the hospital. I made it down the 31 stairs flawlessly. Getting into the car was a little rough because I'm used to sitting down, slowly rotating, going down on my elbow, etc. The way the seat in a car is situated made it difficult. While looking for where I needed to be we just happened to run into the fantastic nurse I had in the hospital. She was happy to see me and made sure I wasn't going back in the hospital. When I said no, she asked why I was there then. In which I told her that I was there to go to the 7:30am appointment she booked for me. She laughed.
The bone density test didn't take long at all. I was out in about 20 minutes. I got home also in one piece. Going up the stairs was easier than I anticipated. The one thing I noticed is sitting up is a little uncomfortable and I don't think I can do it for long. It was nice just to get dressed and move around a little. I'm pretty tired now. I almost dozed off, but my phone woke me up ;P
A nurse from the hospital called and said the Dr. from the hospital was calling in a prescription for me and she wanted me to have her number so I could call her. I called and left a message. She just called me back. Now I assumed that something was up with the bone density test so they were giving me meds for that. Apparently my EEG results came back abnormal. That's right. This kid is going on seizure medication.
SERIOUSLY?!
Let's hope nothing ever happens around my mother because she doesn't know I had a seizure in the first place.
My medical problems are really starting to stack up here! And I can't help but think, if this doesn't help me get disability, nothing will.
My mother came by yesterday to bring me a bunch of stuff like food and the rolling stone magazine with Adam Lambert on the cover. (Sidenote: I think he is man candy for every gender and sexual orientation. Me - oW! Too bad I only saw the AI finale ;P) Me and the lady are going to Disney World in August. We were (well mostly her, I was still gung ho in the hospital) nervous that I wouldn't be able to make the trip. I was going to get a wheelchair anyway because of the lupus, but we were only going to rent them in the park. Now we are getting a wheelchair delivered from a local retailer to our hotel so I can have it for the week. I told my mother this and she insisted on paying for it. This is exciting because it frees up a little of the money I had saved for that purpose. (Don't worry, I have money for my refillable resort drink bottle. I think that was first on the list ;P)
ARG! I'm so MAD about the seizure activity! Well, space mountain isn't open anyway, not that we're chancing me on any ride that could shake me and my spine. I'm hoping to ride Soarin', Splash Mountain, and the Kali River Rapids. The rides completely out: Dinosaur, Tower of Terror, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, Expedition Everest, Rockin' Rollercoaster...
BUT
On Buzzlightyear's Space Ranger Spin I can ride in my wheelchair. This makes me happy. We've ordered a very highly recommended book for Disneyworld with mobility issues, so I'm looking forward to learning more. The last time I went to Disney I was 8 years old, I read somewhere that the average adult in a wheelchair is at the height of an 8 or 9 year old. It's like going through the same vantage point TWICE! ;P
If you can't tell, I'm really excited about disney. Even in my wheelchair and with my carry one of millions of pill bottles. I like being optimistic. It looks good on me and it makes people smile. And it makes me smile too.
Speaking of, if you haven't read Always Looking Up by Michael J. Fox, I suggest you do. I started reading it pre-seizure and finished it post. The man is officially my hero. The way he handles his life and disease is truly inspiring.
Wow, this post is longer than I intended. ;P Be well!
The bone density test didn't take long at all. I was out in about 20 minutes. I got home also in one piece. Going up the stairs was easier than I anticipated. The one thing I noticed is sitting up is a little uncomfortable and I don't think I can do it for long. It was nice just to get dressed and move around a little. I'm pretty tired now. I almost dozed off, but my phone woke me up ;P
A nurse from the hospital called and said the Dr. from the hospital was calling in a prescription for me and she wanted me to have her number so I could call her. I called and left a message. She just called me back. Now I assumed that something was up with the bone density test so they were giving me meds for that. Apparently my EEG results came back abnormal. That's right. This kid is going on seizure medication.
SERIOUSLY?!
Let's hope nothing ever happens around my mother because she doesn't know I had a seizure in the first place.
My medical problems are really starting to stack up here! And I can't help but think, if this doesn't help me get disability, nothing will.
My mother came by yesterday to bring me a bunch of stuff like food and the rolling stone magazine with Adam Lambert on the cover. (Sidenote: I think he is man candy for every gender and sexual orientation. Me - oW! Too bad I only saw the AI finale ;P) Me and the lady are going to Disney World in August. We were (well mostly her, I was still gung ho in the hospital) nervous that I wouldn't be able to make the trip. I was going to get a wheelchair anyway because of the lupus, but we were only going to rent them in the park. Now we are getting a wheelchair delivered from a local retailer to our hotel so I can have it for the week. I told my mother this and she insisted on paying for it. This is exciting because it frees up a little of the money I had saved for that purpose. (Don't worry, I have money for my refillable resort drink bottle. I think that was first on the list ;P)
ARG! I'm so MAD about the seizure activity! Well, space mountain isn't open anyway, not that we're chancing me on any ride that could shake me and my spine. I'm hoping to ride Soarin', Splash Mountain, and the Kali River Rapids. The rides completely out: Dinosaur, Tower of Terror, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, Expedition Everest, Rockin' Rollercoaster...
BUT
On Buzzlightyear's Space Ranger Spin I can ride in my wheelchair. This makes me happy. We've ordered a very highly recommended book for Disneyworld with mobility issues, so I'm looking forward to learning more. The last time I went to Disney I was 8 years old, I read somewhere that the average adult in a wheelchair is at the height of an 8 or 9 year old. It's like going through the same vantage point TWICE! ;P
If you can't tell, I'm really excited about disney. Even in my wheelchair and with my carry one of millions of pill bottles. I like being optimistic. It looks good on me and it makes people smile. And it makes me smile too.
Speaking of, if you haven't read Always Looking Up by Michael J. Fox, I suggest you do. I started reading it pre-seizure and finished it post. The man is officially my hero. The way he handles his life and disease is truly inspiring.
Wow, this post is longer than I intended. ;P Be well!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
My mother is NOT happy with me
I finally called my mother and told her about my back. She was REALLY mad that I waited to tell her. I confess that I didn't even tell her the whole story. I told her that I fractured a vertebrae in my spine and went to the hospital for x-rays and other tests. All true. The problem with my mother is that she uses the my sick kid excuse to make people feel bad for her. I didn't want her coming up to the hospital because it would have stressed me out and I couldn't exactly handle anything else at the time. Her and the lady friend do not get along at all because my mother thinks I am being controlled. The reality of the situation is my mother doesn't understand that she is mentally ill. Any decisions I make are for what's best for me. I made the decision not to tell her until I was home. And I made the decision to minimize the situation not to shield her, but to make it a little easier for myself. My mother is an extremely selfish person who love me very much. She's childish, manipulitive, and the only parent I have. I love her unconditionally but I do have conditions to which I deal with her: On. My. Own. Terms.
I'm sorry if this sounds harsh. I was just on the phone with her for 2 hours. For the first 15 minutes she yelled at me, called the lady friend controlling, manipulative, and many other things that she is not. She dares to blame someone else for decisions I make. I told her that it was my decision not to tell her until "I knew more information." Like how I was going to deal with her. Do not blame someone else for something I did. She did apologize for yelling at me, but only because she thought I was in the hospital overnight for days and didn't tell her. Well, I was. And I didn't. And you know what, that doesn't make me a bad child. If anything you could say that I'm protecting her. Maybe I'm afraid she'll get sick again and be put back into the hospital.
No. I'm protecting myself. I knew I couldn't deal with her in the hospital. If anything I would have gotten sicker. And if I told her exactly how I felt, she would blame the lady friend. And it doesn't matter who you are or how you are connected to me. You could be Saint Anthony or Jesus Christ and my mother would blame you if I didn't do something or act in a way her sick mind thinks it should be.
My mother is clinically mentally ill. She likes to joke around about it. What she doesn't realize is that as she ages it's getting worse. She cycles through friends and will eventually find a reason to hate them. She dates men that are literally dregs of society and more mentally ill than her. A lot of her friends are also mentally ill. I always feel bad for the "normal" people she hangs around with because eventually she will fuck them over.
*sigh* But, for the next hour and forty five minutes she talked about her garden, her friends, her part time job, people I don't know, and finally I helped her log into her "professional" email address. You know, the one I made for her after I made her a resume so she could try to get a job. She's sending me the Rolling Stone magazine. Good. I wanted to read it.
Next time: It seems Friday before the seizure was completely erased from my memory. It was told to me and I was shocked.
I'm sorry if this sounds harsh. I was just on the phone with her for 2 hours. For the first 15 minutes she yelled at me, called the lady friend controlling, manipulative, and many other things that she is not. She dares to blame someone else for decisions I make. I told her that it was my decision not to tell her until "I knew more information." Like how I was going to deal with her. Do not blame someone else for something I did. She did apologize for yelling at me, but only because she thought I was in the hospital overnight for days and didn't tell her. Well, I was. And I didn't. And you know what, that doesn't make me a bad child. If anything you could say that I'm protecting her. Maybe I'm afraid she'll get sick again and be put back into the hospital.
No. I'm protecting myself. I knew I couldn't deal with her in the hospital. If anything I would have gotten sicker. And if I told her exactly how I felt, she would blame the lady friend. And it doesn't matter who you are or how you are connected to me. You could be Saint Anthony or Jesus Christ and my mother would blame you if I didn't do something or act in a way her sick mind thinks it should be.
My mother is clinically mentally ill. She likes to joke around about it. What she doesn't realize is that as she ages it's getting worse. She cycles through friends and will eventually find a reason to hate them. She dates men that are literally dregs of society and more mentally ill than her. A lot of her friends are also mentally ill. I always feel bad for the "normal" people she hangs around with because eventually she will fuck them over.
*sigh* But, for the next hour and forty five minutes she talked about her garden, her friends, her part time job, people I don't know, and finally I helped her log into her "professional" email address. You know, the one I made for her after I made her a resume so she could try to get a job. She's sending me the Rolling Stone magazine. Good. I wanted to read it.
Next time: It seems Friday before the seizure was completely erased from my memory. It was told to me and I was shocked.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Jesus Christo!!
Hi everyone! I know it's been quite a while, but do I have a story for you! Last Thursday my mom came up to see me and we went to Hampton for the day. The weather was shitty but we got out Sabo's sandwiches and watched the builders building the bases of the giant sand sculptures. We had a good day, which makes it easier for me. You see, my mother has not yet been told about my recent medical mishap.
Friday I woke up not feeling well. My back was sore and it took me way too much time and effort to get out of bed. I called my lady friend and left her a pathetic voicemail asking if there was anyway she could come home early. For any of you who know me well, you know that I NEVER ask that of anyone. I can usually take care of myself. So obviously she came home as soon as she could get away. She made me some toast and I stayed in bed the whole time. At some point I got really hot and ripped all my clothes off.
******
The next thing I remember she is screaming in this panicked voice I'd never heard before, the room is filled with EMTs, and I'm mumbling that I'm naked. Apparently I had a seizure. She was in the net room and came in when I started making weird noises. Then I was jerking around at the waist, staring off into space and not responding to her. She called 911 when I started foaming at the mouth and bleeding, because I bit my tongue while thrashing.
The EMTs start asking me questions like what day is it, do you know where you are, what is your name, all of which I have no idea. Luckily I quickly snapped out of it (and got some clothes on) and they gave me some oxygen and hooked me up to the stretcher. I got brought down 3 flights of stairs on the stretcher barely noticing what is going on. By the time I was in the ambulence I was more alert and sent them to Saints. I've never been to Lowell General and we'll keep it that way.
I get to the emergency room complaining of back pain, so they send me for x-rays and other tests to try and get to the root of the problem. A long story short, they find a fractured bone in my spine but no cause of the seizure. The doctor admits me into the hospital which has a nice big tv is a single. Which is great, because for the first 24 hours I can't leave my bed. I've never said "bed pan" so many times in my life.
The "funniest" part about this entire thing is the difference between doctors in Lowell and doctors in Boston. When I was at Beth Israel last time, I had no problem with being transgendered. They knew what was up and treated it correctly. This time, oh lord. I really had to explain it to every single person I talked to in the ER. My favorite was when thiis doctor kept asking me these questions, and finally he was like, "So you have a vagina?" "YES!!!!!" Really, I think I screamed it. Look, I know that it's not common. Obviously more places than others. But I like to think that medical professionals should have some sort of training so when they encounter a poor boy in the ER whose parts just happen to be a little different, it isn't such a big deal.
One night, I think it was Saturday, I (finally able to go to the bathroom on my own) got out of bed and couldn't reach to unplug my IV to take with me. And because I was out of bed I couldn't reach my call button. So I'm standing, slightly hunched over because I fractured my back, fighting back constant muscle spasm, moaning in pain. Luckily it was at night so it was quiet and someone heard me. I think at some point I would have cried out for help.
I was sprung free on Monday really without any answers. But they did send me home with a nice pad for my bed (think college dorm foam) and a back brace formed to my body. Oh, and pain killers. The ortho told me it takes a month for it to heal, so I'm hoping things start looking up. It's strange when someone else starts doing the things that you used to do, but now cant. Even the cats are confused. So far the things I can do are: use the bathroom, brush my teeth, sleep, eat, drink, use the computer, read, and watch tv.
Things I can do assisted: Get dressed, take a shower
I can't: feed the cats, do the dishes, vacuum, bend over, walk very well, pick up anything heavier than a cup, stairs without a railing
I really think I'm going to need a cane when I can start walking again for a little bit ;P So that's the basic story!
Friday I woke up not feeling well. My back was sore and it took me way too much time and effort to get out of bed. I called my lady friend and left her a pathetic voicemail asking if there was anyway she could come home early. For any of you who know me well, you know that I NEVER ask that of anyone. I can usually take care of myself. So obviously she came home as soon as she could get away. She made me some toast and I stayed in bed the whole time. At some point I got really hot and ripped all my clothes off.
******
The next thing I remember she is screaming in this panicked voice I'd never heard before, the room is filled with EMTs, and I'm mumbling that I'm naked. Apparently I had a seizure. She was in the net room and came in when I started making weird noises. Then I was jerking around at the waist, staring off into space and not responding to her. She called 911 when I started foaming at the mouth and bleeding, because I bit my tongue while thrashing.
The EMTs start asking me questions like what day is it, do you know where you are, what is your name, all of which I have no idea. Luckily I quickly snapped out of it (and got some clothes on) and they gave me some oxygen and hooked me up to the stretcher. I got brought down 3 flights of stairs on the stretcher barely noticing what is going on. By the time I was in the ambulence I was more alert and sent them to Saints. I've never been to Lowell General and we'll keep it that way.
I get to the emergency room complaining of back pain, so they send me for x-rays and other tests to try and get to the root of the problem. A long story short, they find a fractured bone in my spine but no cause of the seizure. The doctor admits me into the hospital which has a nice big tv is a single. Which is great, because for the first 24 hours I can't leave my bed. I've never said "bed pan" so many times in my life.
The "funniest" part about this entire thing is the difference between doctors in Lowell and doctors in Boston. When I was at Beth Israel last time, I had no problem with being transgendered. They knew what was up and treated it correctly. This time, oh lord. I really had to explain it to every single person I talked to in the ER. My favorite was when thiis doctor kept asking me these questions, and finally he was like, "So you have a vagina?" "YES!!!!!" Really, I think I screamed it. Look, I know that it's not common. Obviously more places than others. But I like to think that medical professionals should have some sort of training so when they encounter a poor boy in the ER whose parts just happen to be a little different, it isn't such a big deal.
One night, I think it was Saturday, I (finally able to go to the bathroom on my own) got out of bed and couldn't reach to unplug my IV to take with me. And because I was out of bed I couldn't reach my call button. So I'm standing, slightly hunched over because I fractured my back, fighting back constant muscle spasm, moaning in pain. Luckily it was at night so it was quiet and someone heard me. I think at some point I would have cried out for help.
I was sprung free on Monday really without any answers. But they did send me home with a nice pad for my bed (think college dorm foam) and a back brace formed to my body. Oh, and pain killers. The ortho told me it takes a month for it to heal, so I'm hoping things start looking up. It's strange when someone else starts doing the things that you used to do, but now cant. Even the cats are confused. So far the things I can do are: use the bathroom, brush my teeth, sleep, eat, drink, use the computer, read, and watch tv.
Things I can do assisted: Get dressed, take a shower
I can't: feed the cats, do the dishes, vacuum, bend over, walk very well, pick up anything heavier than a cup, stairs without a railing
I really think I'm going to need a cane when I can start walking again for a little bit ;P So that's the basic story!
Monday, May 4, 2009
Let's not dwell on my lack of updating!
Good evening! I'm updating tonight via satellite (really a laptop) from the great state of NY. Saturday along with 39,999 other people, I participated as part of the Cancer Schmancer team in the Revlon Run/Walk 5k. We went to sleep around 12am Saturday and woke up at 2am. We were on the ferry for 4am, in Times Square at 5am, and checking people in at 6:30am. The walk was really fun, and at one point I was walking directly next to Fran Drescher. My friend Mark and I kept trying to take a picture of the two of us while getting Fran in the shot. (His gf works for Cancer Schmancer so it's not like we couldn't get a picture of her, I think we were in a way mocking all the crazy people taking pictures.)I got tired and sore near the end. Luckily it started to rain and people cleared out. We walked back to the subway with me and Mark carrying the nearly 6 foot CS banner like a battering ram and ended up on a PACKED subway. But we survived and were back at our satelitte "home" around 2pm (I think, it's all a little blurry.) Later that day (around 6pm) Mark came back and we went to Chili's. He had an advantage over the rest of us bc HE got to SLEEP for 3 hours. (He was actually shocked the rest of us were still awake.)
We drank a lot of coke at Chili's with our meal (even the diet soda drinkers were jonesin' for the caffiene and sugar.) I think I finally passed out around 10pm that night, and I was the last to crash. I remember going upstairs to pee around 4am. This morning they let me sleep until about 10am, and tonight I am once again the only one awake. We're going back home sometime tomorrow night. Usually we go back to a surprise from the cats. Amid the poop on the floor that I know will be there, last time we were treated to the side of our chaise ripped apart with clawed fabric left on the seat for our enjoyment. How can cute furry things be so BAD??
My mother got into a fight with one of my cousins from an incident that happened on Thanksgiving. Unfortunately I was a tad bit drunk and don't remember it clearly. But, I muddle through as best as I can. I read all the emails my mom forwarded me and tried to get my opinion into a short email I sent her. I think she got it, because later tonight she emailed me saying something along the lines of that she wishes she had acted differently, BUT there were still parts of my cousin's bf she didn't like and she missed my cousin. What I didn't tell her was that my cousin had IM'd me earlier and was deeply disturbed by the whole mess. Apparently one of my mom's friends emailed her under my mom's account calling her things like a "stupid fat fuck." My mom sent her an email apologizing for it, but seriously. Are we 10? My cousin now doesn't want to talk to my mother because she's afraid of her. Rightfully so. My mother, love her to death, is crazy. And it's only getting worse now that she's unemployed with too much time on her hands.
Well, off I go to my cold eggroll and late night laundry. Night :)
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
I'm in the mood for a good day
Hi my legion of insanely patient fans! I'm in a grrrrreat mood, so I thought I'd update!
Today I had jury duty. It was in interesting experience. I got to see the jury paneling procedure for a civil and juvenile case. Other than that, we sat in the jury pool room from 8am to 1pm. And then they let us go, which was excellent because we were all told we'd be there until at least 4pm. I then stopped at the NEW SUBWAY in downtown Worcester (it could be years old for all I know, I never go downtown anymore.) I took the bus back to my mother's house, and walked the rest of the way in the snow. Yes, the snow. Then I proceeded to dance around the house to a Madonna dance mix in my underwear. No, she wasn't home. Thanks for asking, though.
It's very rare that I'm visiting my mother in Worcester and I'm in a good mood. It's probably because she's working her part time (and currently only) job right now.
And here's the part where I ask for money. I'm doing the Revlon 5k Run/Walk in NYC on May 2nd and I'm looking to raise a little bit of money. Last year I did the AIDS walk and I felt like a schmuck for not raising anything. I'm not asking for much. Literally, I'd be happy with a dollar. That would at least make me feel like I raised SOMETHING! All the money raised goes towards funding organizations working on research and education for the eradication of cancer. Yes, I said eradication. You know I mean business.
Here is the link to sponsor me.
While you're there you can also read more information! FAQs are always helpful!
Thank you :)
Today I had jury duty. It was in interesting experience. I got to see the jury paneling procedure for a civil and juvenile case. Other than that, we sat in the jury pool room from 8am to 1pm. And then they let us go, which was excellent because we were all told we'd be there until at least 4pm. I then stopped at the NEW SUBWAY in downtown Worcester (it could be years old for all I know, I never go downtown anymore.) I took the bus back to my mother's house, and walked the rest of the way in the snow. Yes, the snow. Then I proceeded to dance around the house to a Madonna dance mix in my underwear. No, she wasn't home. Thanks for asking, though.
It's very rare that I'm visiting my mother in Worcester and I'm in a good mood. It's probably because she's working her part time (and currently only) job right now.
And here's the part where I ask for money. I'm doing the Revlon 5k Run/Walk in NYC on May 2nd and I'm looking to raise a little bit of money. Last year I did the AIDS walk and I felt like a schmuck for not raising anything. I'm not asking for much. Literally, I'd be happy with a dollar. That would at least make me feel like I raised SOMETHING! All the money raised goes towards funding organizations working on research and education for the eradication of cancer. Yes, I said eradication. You know I mean business.
Here is the link to sponsor me.
While you're there you can also read more information! FAQs are always helpful!
Thank you :)
Monday, March 16, 2009
Ooh pretty
Dear Loyal Reader:
I got sick of looking at the same layout. So I changed it. Be sure to vote in the poll on the right.
Hopefully this will prompt me to update more often.
(Hey, stranger things have happened!
- The Management
I got sick of looking at the same layout. So I changed it. Be sure to vote in the poll on the right.
Hopefully this will prompt me to update more often.
(Hey, stranger things have happened!
- The Management
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The Bachelor and Me
So how about that Bachelor season finale? Now, I don't watch the Bachelor - Never have, never will. But I got sucked into the finale and After the Final Rose (Part 1 and 2, of course.) I think it's funny that reality tv parading around as "true life" has gotten people so up in arms. First of all, the guy picked the wrong girl. Why he did that, I have no idea. He was so upset when Molly was taken away in the limo. Secondly, according to Jason (who is now not a credible source) Melissa and he were not a couple going into After the Final Rose (Part 1) and she was being overly dramatic and acting like she had no idea.
From a male perspective, Melissa knew exactly what to say to get everyone in America with large amounts of estrogen pissed off. The only ones that aren't are the ones that see through this facade. Or, my favorite viewer quote, "The biggest vat of Velvetta I've ever seen."
I wish Molly and Jason the best of luck and hope, for her sake, he doesn't decide to "follow his heart" into the arms of DeAnna. Wouldn't that sell papers.
I've been on a life journey for the past couple months. It's more of a non-denominational spiritual journey. I've gotten into guided meditations and I believe it's helping my health. A few weeks ago I went to the doctors for my 3 month check-up and my blood pressure was through the roof. The next day I had another appointment with a different doctor who was alerted by doctor #1 of my off the charts BP. After all is said and done, I'm fine. My lupus is currently inactive and most of my labs are coming out normal. I've been dangerously sick now for over a year, so do I think following a spiritual path and daily meditations are helping? You bet your ass I do. It would be the same thing if I started a strict vegetarian diet and my condition improved. (I like bacon too much. Sorry.)
Religion and spirituality is something that people have a hard time conversing about - even if it's about the religion they subscribe to. Everyone has a different perspective and not many people are willing to bend. Which is why, for now, I've chosen not to say much about it and just continue doing what is working. If you're interested I'd be happy to talk about it in a less public arena.
Every time people ask what I do all day, I usually say something along the lines of "nothing," usually paired with a half smile and a shrug. This isn't the case. I do something that has the potential to be profitable. What is it? You're gonna laugh. I enter contests. Yes, the same type of contests you read about in the coupon section or hear about on television. The difference is I enter probably about 300 contests a day. There are different categories: Some contests you can only enter once. Some you can enter daily. Other you can enter daily and they are instant win games, meaning you know right away if you have won something. And yes, I have won some things. My biggest win was a Jenna Jameson signed skate deck that I sold on ebay for $117. Other small things such as free food from kraft, free salsa, and free mp3 downloads come in handy when your income is comprised of food stamps.
The contest community is a funny one. They are very supportive of each other and constantly post new contests. Most people would think that you should keep a contest to yourself so no one else can enter. But that's not what the definition of a community is. These people support one another, answering questions and quick to help out if someone has been promised a prize but never received it. They are also good at what they do and if there is a skill to contesting they have figured it out. But the majority of the time it's really dumb luck.
I figure it's better to win something then buy it!
From a male perspective, Melissa knew exactly what to say to get everyone in America with large amounts of estrogen pissed off. The only ones that aren't are the ones that see through this facade. Or, my favorite viewer quote, "The biggest vat of Velvetta I've ever seen."
I wish Molly and Jason the best of luck and hope, for her sake, he doesn't decide to "follow his heart" into the arms of DeAnna. Wouldn't that sell papers.
I've been on a life journey for the past couple months. It's more of a non-denominational spiritual journey. I've gotten into guided meditations and I believe it's helping my health. A few weeks ago I went to the doctors for my 3 month check-up and my blood pressure was through the roof. The next day I had another appointment with a different doctor who was alerted by doctor #1 of my off the charts BP. After all is said and done, I'm fine. My lupus is currently inactive and most of my labs are coming out normal. I've been dangerously sick now for over a year, so do I think following a spiritual path and daily meditations are helping? You bet your ass I do. It would be the same thing if I started a strict vegetarian diet and my condition improved. (I like bacon too much. Sorry.)
Religion and spirituality is something that people have a hard time conversing about - even if it's about the religion they subscribe to. Everyone has a different perspective and not many people are willing to bend. Which is why, for now, I've chosen not to say much about it and just continue doing what is working. If you're interested I'd be happy to talk about it in a less public arena.
Every time people ask what I do all day, I usually say something along the lines of "nothing," usually paired with a half smile and a shrug. This isn't the case. I do something that has the potential to be profitable. What is it? You're gonna laugh. I enter contests. Yes, the same type of contests you read about in the coupon section or hear about on television. The difference is I enter probably about 300 contests a day. There are different categories: Some contests you can only enter once. Some you can enter daily. Other you can enter daily and they are instant win games, meaning you know right away if you have won something. And yes, I have won some things. My biggest win was a Jenna Jameson signed skate deck that I sold on ebay for $117. Other small things such as free food from kraft, free salsa, and free mp3 downloads come in handy when your income is comprised of food stamps.
The contest community is a funny one. They are very supportive of each other and constantly post new contests. Most people would think that you should keep a contest to yourself so no one else can enter. But that's not what the definition of a community is. These people support one another, answering questions and quick to help out if someone has been promised a prize but never received it. They are also good at what they do and if there is a skill to contesting they have figured it out. But the majority of the time it's really dumb luck.
I figure it's better to win something then buy it!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Scratchy
Last week I decided to carry out a little experiment. I shaved my facial hair and let it grow for one week. I must say, it grew a lot. These pictures don't do it justice. I'm glad my experiment is over because it itches. Badly ;P 
I apologize for the bad lighting. I was under a window and far too comfortable to move.
Huh. My eyes kind of look grey/blue in the last picture.
I had a really weird dream last night. I dreamt I went camping. And I kept on getting up to put the tarp on top of the tent because it was supposed to rain. But whenever I went outside there were these bright red frogs that I was scared to go near. And for some reason if the frog got in the tent it would stay forever and make bad things happen. So I never put the tarp up. I don't think it ever rained ;P
I went to CVS this morning to pick up my prescriptions and figured I should pick up a Valentine's Day card, it being the 12 of February and all ;P As I was looking through the god awful array of Hallmark greetings, I noticed one man to my right and one directly behind me. All doing the same thing: Almost-not-quite last minute shopping. I also noted one of the same men searching through the V-Day aisle for that perfect something. (He was looking at the giant chocolate hearts. NEVER go for the giant chocolate heart unless it's high end and will cost more than a nice bouquet of roses. And never let on that you were in CVS the Thursday before. If anyone asks you got the chocolates as soon as they unloaded the boxes.)
I'm currently reading The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski. My reason for reading this was because it was on Oprah's book list. I requested it from the library and waiting quite sometime. I think I was #400+ in line. And the reason I'm reading it right now is because it's due the 17th and I can't renew it.
The orange "trigger" was broken off of the spray bottle of shout the last time I did laundry in Worcester. So now every time there is a stain on an item of clothing the person must unscrew the top and gently pour shout everywhere. It's either that or jab something into the space where the trigger used to be. When I got soup all over my sweatpants I opted with the first option, mostly because me jabbing anything usually ends up in more pain. And blood. Which would lead to more shout. You see my point.
My cat is a little slow. You may think I'm being mean, but he really is. Most cats understand a firm "NO." They also know enough not to jump on table tops and counters. Not Porkchop. He thinks the kitchen table is a perfect place for a cat nap and the counter is where all cats go to hang out. Time and time again I say no, I bang things, I pick him up and move him. Only to find him back on the table, happy. He'll be 2 in April so I hope wisdom really does come with age.
I apologize for the bad lighting. I was under a window and far too comfortable to move.
Huh. My eyes kind of look grey/blue in the last picture.
I had a really weird dream last night. I dreamt I went camping. And I kept on getting up to put the tarp on top of the tent because it was supposed to rain. But whenever I went outside there were these bright red frogs that I was scared to go near. And for some reason if the frog got in the tent it would stay forever and make bad things happen. So I never put the tarp up. I don't think it ever rained ;P
I went to CVS this morning to pick up my prescriptions and figured I should pick up a Valentine's Day card, it being the 12 of February and all ;P As I was looking through the god awful array of Hallmark greetings, I noticed one man to my right and one directly behind me. All doing the same thing: Almost-not-quite last minute shopping. I also noted one of the same men searching through the V-Day aisle for that perfect something. (He was looking at the giant chocolate hearts. NEVER go for the giant chocolate heart unless it's high end and will cost more than a nice bouquet of roses. And never let on that you were in CVS the Thursday before. If anyone asks you got the chocolates as soon as they unloaded the boxes.)
I'm currently reading The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski. My reason for reading this was because it was on Oprah's book list. I requested it from the library and waiting quite sometime. I think I was #400+ in line. And the reason I'm reading it right now is because it's due the 17th and I can't renew it.
The orange "trigger" was broken off of the spray bottle of shout the last time I did laundry in Worcester. So now every time there is a stain on an item of clothing the person must unscrew the top and gently pour shout everywhere. It's either that or jab something into the space where the trigger used to be. When I got soup all over my sweatpants I opted with the first option, mostly because me jabbing anything usually ends up in more pain. And blood. Which would lead to more shout. You see my point.
My cat is a little slow. You may think I'm being mean, but he really is. Most cats understand a firm "NO." They also know enough not to jump on table tops and counters. Not Porkchop. He thinks the kitchen table is a perfect place for a cat nap and the counter is where all cats go to hang out. Time and time again I say no, I bang things, I pick him up and move him. Only to find him back on the table, happy. He'll be 2 in April so I hope wisdom really does come with age.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
My bad, I neglected January
After a debacle involving a sick computer and verizon, I am once again wireless! Hooray! I visited my rheumotologist last week and he diagnosed me with an upper respiratory infection ;P Excellent. So I took antibiotics for three days and was told to hold one of my other meds for 10 days. He also gave me some stretches to do to ease my daily muscle and joint pain.
I finally went to the eye doctor after 5+ years of neglecting my vision. My lenses have also been held together with a replacement screw since I was still in college...and considering I graduated in 2006... Yeah, it was time for new glasses. I didn't actually realize how much I couldn't see until I put on the new glasses. I can read the small print on the tv again! Hooray!
I also hired a lawyer to handle my social security disability claim after they denied me for the second time. The lawyer explained to me that mostly everyone gets denied because the social security office gets money from the government every time they deny someone. He said one time he wheeled a man into the courtroom hooked up to oxygen and the judge shook his head and dismissed the case because obviously this man was disabled. That made me feel better.
I found the best news ever yesterday. Mass. RMV changes gender change procedure
I'm extremely excited for the chance to change the gender marker on my ID. I've never had a problem using it and I've never been questioned about it, but it will give me piece of mind. Especially if I can get a new picture taken. ;P
I might try and update my blog more often now that I have home internet, but I've promised this before to no avail. And I wouldn't want to get anyones hopes up ;)
I finally went to the eye doctor after 5+ years of neglecting my vision. My lenses have also been held together with a replacement screw since I was still in college...and considering I graduated in 2006... Yeah, it was time for new glasses. I didn't actually realize how much I couldn't see until I put on the new glasses. I can read the small print on the tv again! Hooray!
I also hired a lawyer to handle my social security disability claim after they denied me for the second time. The lawyer explained to me that mostly everyone gets denied because the social security office gets money from the government every time they deny someone. He said one time he wheeled a man into the courtroom hooked up to oxygen and the judge shook his head and dismissed the case because obviously this man was disabled. That made me feel better.
I found the best news ever yesterday. Mass. RMV changes gender change procedure
I'm extremely excited for the chance to change the gender marker on my ID. I've never had a problem using it and I've never been questioned about it, but it will give me piece of mind. Especially if I can get a new picture taken. ;P
I might try and update my blog more often now that I have home internet, but I've promised this before to no avail. And I wouldn't want to get anyones hopes up ;)
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