tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46979397926206798372024-03-13T13:04:26.873-07:00carpe dieming in the garden__________cringe, hymns & cricketsAjaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-20202058668982059362022-12-11T13:33:00.006-08:002022-12-12T07:20:14.700-08:00And Another (dumb) Thing! (cringe warning)<p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiXdH0fis50ZFRedIY7qyAcVaFi0wHIIhqtPvBpDppAM-9ejFCof3ube5mibRtCfu-5jthWeAnX0BHlKDa7rO6vntDD1_CPYutKui-Ux20B12bo1sBUftLh1cPtAuBpZecs_myPsmoRN1sv7vf6ZMjgu_UNhurFXBiP0sDt4LWzwDdODhinHp0vRNm0lw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="925" data-original-width="694" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiXdH0fis50ZFRedIY7qyAcVaFi0wHIIhqtPvBpDppAM-9ejFCof3ube5mibRtCfu-5jthWeAnX0BHlKDa7rO6vntDD1_CPYutKui-Ux20B12bo1sBUftLh1cPtAuBpZecs_myPsmoRN1sv7vf6ZMjgu_UNhurFXBiP0sDt4LWzwDdODhinHp0vRNm0lw=w480-h640" title="Governer Festus (the bestest)" width="480" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: center;">Governor Festus, (the bestest)</div><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Just did the dumbest thing. Darn it. Probably shouldn't admit here or anywhere, but ah, well. After the last few months the <i>last</i> thing I want to do is undermine any last shred of confidence my farmstead boss and his wife might have in me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The day started normally. I was kind of fuzzy around the time i usually go to work (these days noon or one- ha). I warned my boss by text i was happy going out, but he might wind up seizure puppeteering. (So he can decide- eat his Wheaties or whatever.) Only it wasn't my boss, it was my <i>mom</i> i accidentally sent the text to. So thaaat's always great, worrying my mom on a day she really didn't need to worry.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">So i texted my boss for realsies. He replied, "All good, nothing pressing. Rest up. I'll text you tomorrow." </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Took Tater dog out on a loop in the snow and felt totally fine. Played fetch like four places.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Hadn't done anything new or different to my knowledge, and don't remember any other specifics other than i</span><span> woke up, and for whatever head-shaking, face-palming reason i jumped to a most serious conclusion in advance of all the facts and information. ...and texted the </span><i>one </i><span>person i should not</span><i> </i><span>have.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">(And really this could be me independent of seizures and anti-seizure drugs. Seriously. I don't know.) So what i texted them was, (🙄😶😐)... "<i>Is it the apocalypse there too?" </i>(They live just south of town surrounded by windswept wheatfields.)</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>In my defense, it <i>was</i> foggy. I was thinking it was just a dense morning inversion. </span><span>We can get a little socked in right in town compared to where they are, so i was wondering if the sun had managed to break through down there a little better.</span><span> This time of year it seems to take for-ever to get light out, but it 9:30 it should've been much brighter Lord knows why i didn't think things through a little further. ...And i'm sure you see where this is going... </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">My boss' wife/ boss lady, texted back, "Haven't noticed?! Is your power out??" </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">and <sigh> i replied, "It's still dark here. Like nighttime." ... ... ... "It <i>is</i> morning right?"... </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">... My boss, "948 PM!!!"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">🙄😑😣🙃😜😖😩😬🤪🥴😳 </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Help me, Rhonda. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm sure i just got over-tired. But yeesh. I'm okay with crazy, i just don't want to be crazy-oblivious. Or maybe i do. Maybe it's better not knowing. Who knows?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Wish i could've stuck with the counseling thing. Wish i could trust in it again. I'm kind of flooded with everything still, but i <i>think </i>i'm doing a little better than i was a week ago. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It definitely all throws me for a loop, sometimes. Could definitly just be crazy. Could definitley just be a stellar dissociator. Could definitely be possessed by demons. Could definitely be exhausted beyond comprehension. Maybe all of the above even. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">But at least it's not the apocalypse. So there's that.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Had a really nice visit with my sister since then and got to play Hock-Ay!!! Felt so good. Both things. Maybe i'll get to some of those details, and maybe i'll get to some of the posts i've been marinating on for weeks now. God-willing. </span><span>We'll see.</span><span> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Forgive the cringe. (Dare i present you with anything less?!) I love you.</span></p>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-42955657583749798632022-12-05T16:39:00.096-08:002022-12-11T08:07:43.372-08:00Post Viewing Musings<p>A few of my sheeps: those fatties jockey around for their grain like a game of musical feed buckets. Not really conducive to decent pictures unless you like the head-in-a-bucket look.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1rcbp_No9ogPnuC6A5epMdygg05OUrnprtYEXyNdMgkwwjuXC8SOjzc4zJwcSVBs8W3C3L4nxjgv3Pqrlyt8mz1hl_wOANUa6yYWSt_60YVmAQzbSqCu_8STttPVgmwoBnkxrWj7lFrftNKUMecKRYJbTePpBBdEJy97wfGoQa7_hQWEXrsICwB9irQ/s4624/20221204_141807_2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1rcbp_No9ogPnuC6A5epMdygg05OUrnprtYEXyNdMgkwwjuXC8SOjzc4zJwcSVBs8W3C3L4nxjgv3Pqrlyt8mz1hl_wOANUa6yYWSt_60YVmAQzbSqCu_8STttPVgmwoBnkxrWj7lFrftNKUMecKRYJbTePpBBdEJy97wfGoQa7_hQWEXrsICwB9irQ/w640-h480/20221204_141807_2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Like to think i'm fairly well-adjusted in most other facets of my life but maybe epilepsy eclipses the rest of my issues. Knowing my brain, could've just forgotten them. <shrug> Afraid i'll always feel insecure about having seizures. Even though i know, rationally, i shouldn't be apologetic about a lot of what i am so very, very sorry for, I can't seem to override those automatic thoughts. Just want to express *gratitude*, not one more single thing about me. (I mean, they just saw me gork out and have a seizure. They already know i'm <i>sorry).</i> The last year or so i was doing much better at eliminating it from my vocabulary It was nice while it lasted. It dawned on me that it's not a very nice thing to tell yourself repeatedly; that you're sorry when you're beautiful and radiant and generous and 'sorry' couldn't be further from the truth. And when i'm saying 'sorry' as an apology, i want it to carry weight. It's always the first thing i say when getting my words back after a seizure, i hear. My favorite medic said. 'Once you start saying you're sorry we know you're okay.". Maybe it's just hard-wired and true in both senses. Ah well.</p><p>My main cope is dodge/skirt/deny but i've swung the last few months from avoidant to anxious/preoccupied over seizures. Not sure catharsis helps but seems my depleted default state is wallowing in it. So that's been my last few days. I've gone to work and done some things but not without intermittent bouts of face-screwed-up crying. Not just for the weight of all of it, but struck and overwhelmed by beauty i encounter every day. It'd be less hard if i didn't love it so much.<br /></p><p>Just after posting here last, I was asked not to come back to the gym until i get my shit sorted. Not looking to spark outrage- I'm in full agreement. But sad, nonetheless. It's one of my favorite places in town. Didn't do much* lifting (see none) but the group classes comprised about 98% of my social life the last while. My sister used to take me on awesome bike rides on backroads around the rolling hills of the Palouse. Since they've gone done moved, i don't really want to be on a trail in the middle of wheat fields, basically, and or riding on a road by myself when things are wonky. I've been grateful being able to get long, low-intensity rides in, (even at the risk of utter humiliation), at the gym. Seizure-having is pretty effective motivation to keep my resting pulse rate low so my body is as efficient in an oxygen deprived state as it can be. Helps I love riding, besides.</p><p>And besides again, after it happened i couldn't <i>imagine</i> going back. Ever. Maybe it's just fresh, but i hope to shout that was the most humiliating day of my life. It was one place i'd really hoped to get to know more people; where i'd already found some amazing friends. I was emphatically *not* a gym person until i went there but i got hooked. I love the place and so many people there, but can't say i'm <i>comfortable,</i> necessarily, in that environment. Plus i didn't always have a clear or safe place to an exit. I do well in adrenaline-fueled situations, but i'm afraid low level anxiety doesn't have quite the same effect. Afraid psyching myself out with things like that probably isn't conducive to the efforts of the seizure mitigation committee in my brain. </p><p>I had three point five seizures there over the last 2 years. </p><p>I'm bummed about it. (That's where i fought the cops recently. Sure can't blame them for not wanting a total disaster show at place of business again. Ugh.) It was awful. I've played sports my whole life and never picked up on any distinct correlation with seizures and exercise. I'd assert the opposite, actually. At least that used to be the case. The new VNS might be throwing a spanner in the works, but i'm not certain. At least that's what i'm implicating for now. It's a whole additional variable to factor in, as if there weren't enough. The new one, unlike its predecessor, preemptively shocks if it detects a rapid fluctuation in heart rate. (Mine does spike beforehand so there might be a net benefit outside cardiovascular demanding situations. Who knows?) But it cuts off my breathing when i'm exercising, which i'm pretty sure isn't very helpful as far as seizure abatement goes. </p><p>Our ice hockey season is just starting up though, so that's great consolation. Clearly the Big Guy loves me, and wants me to be happy. We got a new rink this year, even. Really looking forward to it.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhih3nNU6XuPyxdr4dbIwdPCaEzo1NPHvxpPuungIdZw9v-SmUYsCQBCyd8iZjs0tsOFgnzA92GDVFT3fzMNgux0hihcsDJg32VQ_4vzMrSBbut9UwQeTyJPWMyMYWq1MxbLHiEdeLNzA-yBGjiqVEiYjrDksn0Er6KOf8RKY84lSz1vzvM1KLOlxqGfg/s4624/20221204_141726_2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhih3nNU6XuPyxdr4dbIwdPCaEzo1NPHvxpPuungIdZw9v-SmUYsCQBCyd8iZjs0tsOFgnzA92GDVFT3fzMNgux0hihcsDJg32VQ_4vzMrSBbut9UwQeTyJPWMyMYWq1MxbLHiEdeLNzA-yBGjiqVEiYjrDksn0Er6KOf8RKY84lSz1vzvM1KLOlxqGfg/w640-h480/20221204_141726_2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>One thing about watching <a href="https://allisonimacaroni.blogspot.com/2022/12/oh.html">that video footage</a> is i've thought of a million more words associated with seizures. My (<a href="https://allisonimacaroni.blogspot.com/2022/11/me-so-phonia-curated-train-of-thought.html" target="">Me so Phonia post is now a novel</a>.) So there's that, even though my memory and handwriting are so bad right now, i'd go back to type it in and not be able to decipher what i wrote only minutes ago.</p><p>Spent all morning and then some, trying to remember the name of a good friend of mine. Still never came to me until i got home and looked it up this afternoon. Ah well . </p><p>Keep having to delete long strings of letters and numbers. Falling asleep at my computer. Guess i'm just going to go to bed at 5 today. What the heck. I'm beyond tired. And it's been dark for an hour at least, besides.</p><blockquote style="border: medium none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: center;">...</p></blockquote><p>Regarding my <a href="https://allisonimacaroni.blogspot.com/2022/12/oh.html" target="_blank">starring role in C.O.P.S. Moscow, Idaho</a> , some of the footage wasn't as bad as i expected. The most climactic part wasn't as violent as i was braced for, even though the officers who on scene described it as 'scorpion-ed' to the medics. First i've heard that one. Cooler than a fish, anyway. The ambiguity of some of it was what bothered me. Other ones i've seen seemed to follow a more simple, straightforward progression with a clear ending. I'd never had any longer seizure recorded. I'm sure i've told people before that once i'm snoring and in the recovery position, i'm fine. That didn't seem to be the case, exactly, that time, but who knows.</p><p>My understanding is a number of people with epilepsy have psychogenic seizures also. The story i've been telling myself is any longer ones i had were just psychological, probably. I'm alone most of the time. Seems i'd have met my demNot sure with those if they'd fizzle out and i'd roll out of it eventually, even though it's not supposed to work that way. But you know us assholes have at least as many lives as cats.</p><p>The positive aspects of having a seizure monkey on your back almost outweigh the poop-flinging tendencies of that particular creature. <i>Almost</i>. If i could have lived it and then be out of the woods and family, friends and innocent bistanders had never had to deal with it, i wouldn't change a thing.</p><p>Keep thinking of the cavalry rushing in to help. They were so good to me and Tater, it pulls me back to tears. No wonder my brain fakes seizures so often- Who wouldn't want that kind of attention?! Too bad i couldn't find anything better than my Sam the Eagle grimace when everyone's watching.) Honestly, if i could remove all of <i>my</i> lines and utterances from the performance, their voices and reassurance could be an ASMR audio track. Such peace-of-mind. What's more valuable than <i>that</i> in this world? Not many people get to appreciate so tangibly having a literal battalion behind them. Yeesh. </p><p>The snow's only just started and i've already lost a dozen gloves and mittens but i found a fleece-lined prodigal this morning. Headed for some farm chores and some sitting with sheep. Straw and snow are soft. And also one of my favorite friends and heroes agreed to go for coffee. She's dealt with (not claiming ownership here.) I've been wanting to catch up with her forever. Worried the conversation will wind around to seizures eventually and it'll be overwhelmingly talking about me. I hate that.</p><p>And and all of that is certainly enough for me. Glass brimming. I'm a mess, but i'm drowning in gratitude for sure. Vacillating between two poignant extremes. But what is life, or art, or synergy with out a little contrast?</p><p><br /></p><p>Love ewe.</p>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-66987463953560181752022-12-01T11:20:00.079-08:002022-12-09T02:28:06.286-08:00Oh. (Star of my own show)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Please accept cute dog and kitten images as compensation for 💩 content.💐)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3DRI-3rAWFavfbU8yvgJn5GboJU4zkHQwkhuqnkbaxY_TLHnYHu9xXKu3Lu3MWRV6SdosJUZ6q-0TWIhMqP6REoHNUNcwq9Re6A2ASf1umbDItNtbrZUwh_nOL2KEtW291UC_QOuXvOFgA5Qu0AlX1Hpuws6hm4NZQ_qj8ZqwK6-OhTfVUDbrY49oJQ/s4624/20221117_005209.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3DRI-3rAWFavfbU8yvgJn5GboJU4zkHQwkhuqnkbaxY_TLHnYHu9xXKu3Lu3MWRV6SdosJUZ6q-0TWIhMqP6REoHNUNcwq9Re6A2ASf1umbDItNtbrZUwh_nOL2KEtW291UC_QOuXvOFgA5Qu0AlX1Hpuws6hm4NZQ_qj8ZqwK6-OhTfVUDbrY49oJQ/w640-h480/20221117_005209.jpg" title="Please accept cute dog and kitten photos as compensation for 💩 content" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Thanks so much. I hate it. (Everything in this post here, save the pictures, pretty much.)<p></p><p>...</p><p>Did a terrible thing. I almost forgot.</p><p>Are we still national news out there?</p><p>Had the gall distracting local law-enforcement folks and agencies, (even more than i already have), during a major investigation. </p><p>After my skirmish with police, one of my EMT friends suggested getting the bodycam footage so it got me thinking.</p><p>Honestly, that interaction, i remember <i>plenty</i>. So i didn't. </p><p>Since then I've been working with my neurologist to shore up some Emergency Action Plan protocols. (EAP! sounds about right.) And realizing my perpective's pitifully limited despite the extent of my seizure-having career. So maybe this couldld serve as an insightful measure. </p><p>I'd asked the medic/chief about being transported earlier in the month- if it was one of the other medics, maybe, that hadn't been as patient as usual giving me time to come out. It was the only instance i'd ever called 911 on myself, i knew, so presumed maybe they'd arrived quicker, in time to load me onto the gurney and haul me in before i started waking up. </p><p>I'd been caught out longer than planned. It was dark. I was out with my dog and kept getting lost and losing/dropping things- leash, mittens, whatnot. I knew i was having seizures, at least partials. In leiu of the tether I'd had at the start, i slipped one of those keychain lanyards around her, that i had. It must have caught up on something and left a ribbon you can see in the video. Sorry Tater! At some point before the police arrived, I'd lost her, panicked and called dispatch. They were amazing. Even though I sucked. I remember the squad car pulling up. I remember just beyond where he found me, there was dirt and gravel and trying to crawl off the asphalt. But that's about all until I was home the next day. </p><p>She answered, "I was the medic for this last one. It was bad. You weren't coming out of it.''... "You weren’t breathing, which you usually don’t for a bit, but then the seizure slows and you do. It was a long time, that you weren’t. When mpd arrived you were on your knees and immediately went into another seizure. They called us. You were still seizing when I got there, and blue". oh.</p><p>So given all <i>that</i> and all my cleverness, i requested footage of <i>that</i> seizure, from a week or two earlier...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhte2_a8aHQVBkKYmAfvkXy4syYgIgWvFnRLk9QyBpDH2m6mSSqPAOdH1JmJogKvFOMdl0EHcfu5dgwTC02G_axn96CD6sBCqK5L3BCHtw3WkJJd0G8mQ4emMyh2SDfSpQLdNqViomQZCuCMjFXWEZrcGa2SaQzwX7CoIONDn5eEuyBhD34boKYJrtSfw/s4624/20221114_152238.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhte2_a8aHQVBkKYmAfvkXy4syYgIgWvFnRLk9QyBpDH2m6mSSqPAOdH1JmJogKvFOMdl0EHcfu5dgwTC02G_axn96CD6sBCqK5L3BCHtw3WkJJd0G8mQ4emMyh2SDfSpQLdNqViomQZCuCMjFXWEZrcGa2SaQzwX7CoIONDn5eEuyBhD34boKYJrtSfw/w640-h480/20221114_152238.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>Usually I think i have a decent guage of severety, but the last few months have been kind of muddled. I hadn't bit my mouth too badly for that one and they'd let me out of the hospital before sunrise the next morning. </p><p>I'm still not sure the color quite checks out. But it was worse than i imagined. For sure. Full admission.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0RjQ66T773ulEroervgl0_RzFuXy8chufnxnvmRM7RWXEo9Kde2VNRJcpd8x5RX7q8eFmRUznLp12ej_2hFTqYphWhPX8up5tidf0Zvl3qxztmTVWloFYTtbJ2RL4PEt0fHLLP0o5g96LVA4IY8NSU9W59WKMkACyemdGZ_piywS_kbMGMj5mOYS5xQ/s4624/20221114_150235.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0RjQ66T773ulEroervgl0_RzFuXy8chufnxnvmRM7RWXEo9Kde2VNRJcpd8x5RX7q8eFmRUznLp12ej_2hFTqYphWhPX8up5tidf0Zvl3qxztmTVWloFYTtbJ2RL4PEt0fHLLP0o5g96LVA4IY8NSU9W59WKMkACyemdGZ_piywS_kbMGMj5mOYS5xQ/w640-h480/20221114_150235.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Coincidentally, one of my favorite YouTube creators posted a <a href="https://youtu.be/dv5kEiELVt4" target="_blank">video yesterday of one of her sheep having a seizure</a>. People in the comments were confessing to crying and feeling upset; while I watched and wasn't bothered one bit. It was easy projecting my experiences onto the ewe and knowing she wasn't hurting at all. Seeing her fall in her plush wooly coat, gently onto a soft bed of straw. Knowing she wasn't conscious for most of it. No big deal! (For me!)</p><p>When an email sprung up in my inbox later that day, i'd almost forgotten i'd requested it. i was almost surprised, for whatever reason, anything had come of it. Part of me thought, no big deal, i'll be able to watch it and dissociate from the situation knowing i'm checked out. Like watching the sheep.</p><a class="aQy aZr e aZI" data-tooltip-align="t,c" data-tooltip-class="a1V" href="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0?ui=2&ik=559eaa4677&attid=0.1&permmsgid=msg-a:r-2260702617785629004&th=184ce65e6fc5cf12&view=att&disp=safe&realattid=184ce65bce55a3971b91" id=":ts" jslog="119523; u014N:xr6bB,cOuCgd; 43:WyJpbWFnZS9qcGVnIiw0NzUxMzM2XQ.." role="link" tabindex="0" target="_blank"><div aria-hidden="true"><div class="aSI"><div class="aSJ" id=":tq" style="border-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"></div></div></div></a><p>But it didn't go that way exactly. At the start, i was like, <i>faaaaaaake!</i> One of those seizure spoof, parody videos. A real travesty to the real seizure-havers out there. It was pretty different from watching one in a controlled, hospital environment on a VEEG potato cam- seeing it all play out. Guess I'm a little more convinced now. Kind of. Never presumed anyone was being an exagger-badger before, but i'm understanding how my leading drama-llama role riles everyone a little. Still some hokey parts, for sure. And the music is fittingly staged too, (even though i was talking to dispatch on the phone just before, so who knows why or how it was still playing in the background.) Quality theatrical entertainment is all i can say. </p><p>Maybe clobbering the long-departed drafthorse to death in my last post the 48 hours before left me vulnerable to post-seizure-footage ingestion gastrointestinal distress. I over-work everything in art. My main cope is avoidance, but i'm an anxious creator. Especially involving anything to do with seizures. And now after watching I'm shook. My dog, the army of helpers. me. All resilient, but it doesn't make me hate it any less. So. Forgive my rudely passing it on. (Here- get a whiff! It's super gross! C'mon! Check it out!)</p><p>In my usual fashion of dragging maimed varmints in the cat door, here's a thing. It's worse watching than going through. I highly recommend you save yourself the half hour and skip the following video content. </p><p>And i'll trade any of y'alls resting bitch face for my dreadful old man seizure grimace. Really hoping I don't dawn that particular visage ever in real-life. (Can see why i get called in as a dude pretty often.) None of the facial expressions or noises are emoting- once both of my arms go rigid, I'm oblivious. And even knowing that, it was uncomfortable watching. for me. Anyhow. At least now I know if anyone asks it was me having the seizure, i can just tell them no, it was Sam the Eagle. Amazing likeness, amiright?!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyRInNmll512-bIzJGIb48Fa8z9eWap_lJobu8ghcX0lXl_s7ZA6TbC8XXdyzXHEXC1q6okfi5U7wS8eO0cIUSEqeVKkvdAWKKM4Xke9uyLHCsxkDlX1XIN3NpEro0jHyipQHxBEwL2IO9-bershRK8_qG6xWg_GTCFmNwN5Wx_cMRBQd2E-oE7qmjNA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="205" data-original-width="300" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyRInNmll512-bIzJGIb48Fa8z9eWap_lJobu8ghcX0lXl_s7ZA6TbC8XXdyzXHEXC1q6okfi5U7wS8eO0cIUSEqeVKkvdAWKKM4Xke9uyLHCsxkDlX1XIN3NpEro0jHyipQHxBEwL2IO9-bershRK8_qG6xWg_GTCFmNwN5Wx_cMRBQd2E-oE7qmjNA=w640-h438" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>IDK. Maybe i'm just choked up because everyone is even more amazing than i could ever imagine. (And i'm beyond words and comprehension with gratitude and admiration for them already.)</p><p>And i still want to get to my sheep-shearing and cop squabble posts soon.</p><p>Painted the roses brown and the walls putrid around here already, so what the hay? Tell me if this is just twisted exhibitionism. Being a disturbing, disturber, some sort of perverse attention-seeking behavior. I think it's weird as, myself. I can definitely take it down. I'm guessing it's one of the worst seizures I've had- I would've transported me too. FWIW. Sorry again. Could/would/should probably edit them down, but I'm just going to hold them out with my nose plugged, offer them to you like a couple of bizarre carcasses and continue on shrieking down the hill. Warned you! </p><p>If you do, watch it like I watched the sheep- knowing I feel nothing. Don't think of it from any innocent bystander's viewpoint. That's my suggestion. (I'm a bigot and a lot of things, so definitely don't feel bad for *me* about any of it. Save my hideous eagle face. We can all laugh about that.)</p><p>(Body camera footage from both officers on scene. Both videos are the same event, as viewed from each officer's perspective.) All the trigger warnings, I guess:</p><p>(1st on scene POV)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7560Np7bBBc" width="320" youtube-src-id="7560Np7bBBc"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>(2nd on scene POV)<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/NJ_q07UBlqw" width="320" youtube-src-id="NJ_q07UBlqw"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-28211267286946596982022-11-28T14:47:01.114-08:002023-01-19T13:21:15.403-08:00Logomisia- Odious ode turned essay/tribute to words I hate associated with epilepsy<div style="text-align: left;">It's a one word sentence day. And they just came flooding in. Here's a sordid offering:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span style="font-size: large;">Low go MEsia:</span></span> <span style="font-size: x-small;">(cringy. ME-centric, self-absorbed nature of seizure ruminations. gaping insecurities. public-scab-picking. </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">self-deprecating. self-flagellating. self-defecating. cathartic. broken telephone. busy signal. line dropped. disconnected</span><span style="font-size: small;">) "</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #282828; font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 17px;">a strong dislike for a particular </span><a data-component="link" data-ordinal="1" data-source="inlineLink" data-type="internalLink" href="https://www.thoughtco.com/word-english-language-1692612" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(220, 216, 160) 100%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 0px) 0px 80% / 100% 23% repeat-x rgb(255, 255, 255); box-shadow: none; box-sizing: inherit; color: #282828; font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 17px; margin: 0px -0.0625rem; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0.0625rem; text-decoration-line: none; transition: none 0s ease 0s; vertical-align: baseline;">word</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #282828; font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 17px;"> (or type of word) based on its sound, meaning, usage, or associations. Also known as </span><i style="background: 0px 0px rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px none; box-sizing: inherit; color: #282828; font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">word aversion </i><span style="background-color: white; color: #282828; font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 17px;">or</span><i style="background: 0px 0px rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px none; box-sizing: inherit; color: #282828; font-family: Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> verbal virus"</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">-Ode to words and things related to epilepsy that make me squirm.<span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>(maybe <i>sad</i> is the word hiding, abiding, dwelling under wriggling skin) a poem, of sorts, (if you will, Generously). liable to updates and revisions/<i>surgical resections</i>. perhaps a work in progress (simmering since forever, maybe, but concocted, spewed out in a tangle the last [...week now].) NOT a reflection of what people with seizures <i>are </i>or should begin to think. Just my own personal associations (not necessarily my own <i>experiences</i>), my own negative thoughts and toxic self-talk. (Full admission my connotations and sentiments surrounding seizures</span><span> <span>are kind of warped, hyperbolic and unsavory. Maybe not healthy. I know. God-willing i'll be able to amend some of erroneous stories i tell myself in my head someday- forego the catharsis, preoccupation and foreboding. Maybe stop manifesting so much blooping mellowdrama. I don't know.)</span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">(Plenty terms and phrases on this list i don't mind the sound of and some I couldn't love more. The list-starters, however, have been certifiably declared 'logomisic' and hereby guilty as charged.) </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">May this also serve as a heartfelt tribute to anyone caring for people with seizures who are bearing so much of the burden helping us and extending incomprehensible amounts of kindness in times of need. Cheers to them the whole world over.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">What words make you squirm, dear reader? Have any <i>moist</i> ones for me? Words that catch in your throat? Some gutteral utterances? discordant glottal stops? Not a fan of dipthongs? Won't find me judging</span><span style="font-size: medium;">. Any words that send shivers or always fall cold? Words with clumsy, clashing syllables? too many consonants to fit in your mouth? uncomfortable connotations? An assemblage of letters that makes your stomach drop out like an icy chasm? Any terms or idioms you particularly like or dislike having to do with seizures or disablity? Words you hate the sound of? Words so pretentious they scream freshly-picked from the clefted crevasse of a an ivy-league pedant?</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span>(Sorry in advance for the following bleak and squalor and blah.) I'm okay. (I've only cried a few hours today. I'm sad but alright.) You all catch me when i'm falling. Every time i come crashing or stumbling back here with more tomfoolery.<br /></span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span>Sorry if it feels like a sludge fire in here so often. This space </span></span><span>greatly betrays how fortunate i am a majority of the time. It's</span><span><span> <i>highly</i> biased toward my dung heaps, cluster flocks, WTF's and losing streaks. Forgive all my venting. Seems like it should help, but it still smells a bit like dirty boxers in here. Old drawers- musty, unwashed, skid-marked, not-so-fresh dundies. expired fruit of the looms. Gloomy. Forgive my not posting more often about the good stuff! I really do have faith. And lots of hope. But i've been a little mired lately and it's easy for me to get caught up in the muck. </span></span><span>Sorry the mess. </span><span>I'm grateful for you. beyond belief. ...Suppose that's all the longer i can delay the rest of this cringe-inducing deluge... (I tried...) <br /></span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">...<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">TLDR: bleep epilepsy</span></span></div></div><p style="text-align: left;"><b><i><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b style="background-color: white;"><i>Epilepsy-</i></b><span style="background-color: white;"> epilep</span><i style="background-color: white;">tick. </i><span style="background-color: white;">blood-sucker. life sucker. Lac Megantic. sucking at life. afraid. infected. gremlins. ghouls. apoplectic. Hulk. menace. Godzilla monster. wreak. havoc. gang up. riled. carnal. gnarled. pestilence. primal. less-than. remedial. bemusment. ride-beggar. serpents. pathways. trodden. tarnished. intractable. terror. riddled. calloused. scoundrel. rascal. abject. mess. queasy. scared. merry-go-round-forever. tilt-a-whirl. benzo-coaster. bucking. bronco. roundup. rodeo. demolition. derby. crash. calamity. cranium. catacombs. vault. crypt. chaos. tomb. Colosseum. dragon's lair. lion's den. dome. demon-strate. syndromes. prostrate. prone. epileprosarium. cranial. skull. exhausted. dull. exhibit. symptoms. spells. spurred. spread. kindled. sparked. promulgated. washed over. wrangled. welled. quashed. apathetic. washed out. blasé. anhedonia. excitable. neurons. moron. sad clown. '</span><i style="background-color: white;">It</i><span style="background-color: white;">' '</span><i style="background-color: white;">E</i><span style="background-color: white;">' Chucky. haunted. humiliated. erratic. puckish. epileprechaun. rugburn. yanking. pulling. petulant. fall-down. go-boom. old tricks. mischief. concussed. congenital. idiopathic. demoralized. walls up. walled-off. hollow. fortress. cursed. vexed. uninvited. torpedoed. tormented. unseen forces. beleaguered. insane. lame. excuses. sorry, sorry excuse of a human. leech. leaky eyes. fluid excretor. sacred disease. numbskull. cull ewe. bottom-feeder. stiff. stifled. muffled. muted. tuberous. succubus. incubus. sclerotic. </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">terminal velocity.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"> in the hole. medical bills. Buffalo Bill. will-to-live. meat bag. skin suit. big pharma. biohazard. waste-of-space. psycho. basket-case. cabbage head. viscious cycle. ta-da. ta-duh. look at me. la-di-da. yee-haw. who? whee. swings. slides. seen. saw. up. down. down some more. epileper. epileprous. twice-bitten. stricken. struck. SUDEP. sleep forever. unexpected. last breath. disturbing. corrupted. disruptive. extra. wrecking-ball. in-the-ditch. rude. sudden. matchbox. cumbersome. in a pickle. mired. liability. taker. faker. tired. toreodor. tinder drawer. trapped. notorious. barging in. inconvenience. waste of resouces. (sorry again. could not be more sorry) status epilepticus. epileptosaurus wreck.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i><b>Fit</b></i>- (too big. surrender now. give in. concede.) fit of rage. hissy fit. tantrum. temper. conniption. pseudoseizure. psychogenic. PNES (say it out lout in a crowd.) tamp down. trample. tramp. treasonous. bully. beast. Taurus. raging. amorphous. Mephistopheles. snorting. cabinet. locked. clasped. Chinadoll. fractured. glazed. glass. staring. fixed-gaze. peering. hidden. gawking. caged. concealed. fractious. cagy. irascible. bowled-over. steam-rollered. brutal. shattered. twitch. tic. jerk. dried meat. jerky. dead meat. doomed. condemned. brute. jaws. clenched. nashing. chomping. shadow. boxing. fading. fencing. shudder. shiver. shivved. shut down. running on fumes. running through fingers. running through flames. house on fire. crumbling. trembling. tremulous. tremors. shaking. wild. make a scene. circus. tight rope. spectacle. balancing act. ten-out-of-tenuous. lasting impression. shit show. sideshow. surrounded. uh-oh. oh no. weird feeling. guts roiling. strange. estranged. shoving off. perilous. play charades. highwire. haywire. livewire. no <i>great place to have a seizure.</i> nowhere safe. ICU. 'can you see me?' 'know where you are?' unawerewolf. were. where. was-wolf. wrestle. snarl. prowl. howl. preyed on. prayed over. fodder. not awake. unaware. wherewithal. wherewithout. wherewithnone. not within. down-side-up. wrong side out. out-to-lunch. no wits about. wit's end. worn. weary. wary. wriggling. acting up. on-the-fritz. acting out. antics. unusual. unbalanced. not me. disbelief. regress. relapse. fall from standing. collapse. misfit. misfire. disgraced. discharged. missed bus. juggernaut. run over. EEG. spikes. waves. endless ocean. eke out. freak out. dumpster fire. dust-devil. firestorm. brainstorm. tragedy. drama. brain damage. whirlwind. twister. vortex. tempestuous. grimace. gravity-averse. no place in this world. wind-whipped. beaten. lashed down. blown up. shackled. restraints (minus four from scoreboard. five for your neck) negative points. ankles. wrists. strangled. asphyxiated. in the red. (game over) thrashing. writhing. disaster. melee. distorted. tortured. contorted. convoluted. wound-up. let-down. thwarted. plans. ruined. warped. action. potential. squandered. consumed. overwhelmed. frustrated. ¿por qué? 'be okay' 'please be fine' 'please keep breathing' betrayal. betrayed. betrothen. engaged. pledged. praying. entreating. pleading. 'please don't leave me' </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Ictal</b>- ick. Icarus. too high. flown-away. danger. too close. hot cheeks. spurned. smited. burnt. combusted. descended. injured. plummeted. limbs extended. triggered. aroused. fomented. throes. legs bent. provoked. elicited. illicit. scorned. singed. hurt. stubborn. muddy. arched. splayed. flushed. pale. fluttering. posturing. internal. conflict. melee. purple. skin. pupils. deviated. dilated. rigid. visage. ashy. inanimate. pins-and-needles. needle stick. pricked. prickled. son-of-a-prick. tickle. rhythmic. tinnitis. feeling sick. wrestle. yaw. belch. moan. blue-lipped. stiff. nails. gums. gurgling. grunting. drain-circling. cerulean. cold. clawing. blank. cyanosis. cyanotic. hypoxia. exposed. heat. fever. concrete. flared. fumbling. asphalt. aphasia. flaming. barnstorming performance. clothes-picking. tongue-biting. tongue-tied. saliva. intrusion. assailed. ambushed. attacked. listing. distressed. gone under. calamity. SOS. save me. 911! Emergency! Dial! hail. dispatch. dispatcher (but i don't even know her). paramedics. police. 'There she goes!' 'Timber!' sirens. wailing. sounding. Titanic. failure. hands on deck 'get a towel' RMS Epileptic is sinking. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Postictal</b>- dense. foggy misty. dumb-as-a-post. stunned. bungled. bumbled. unsteady. humbled. not ready. on-the-swerve. seizure puppet. muppet baby. pilfered. forgotten. crawling. gravel. grovel. reach for straws. wretch. wobbble. no escape. scathed. hands-and-knees. scraped. strafed. befuddled. wounded. wiped out. ashamed. embarassed. unwanted. hot-potato. potato head. rotten. bruised. spoiled. burned-out. looted. jarred shaken. despondent. disoriented. bearings lost. Humpty Dumpty. shell-shocked. shell cracked. insides-out. confidence-dashed. duped. slumped. lacerated. depleted. brutalized. brawled. bamboozled. zapped. zonked. slumped. sheepish. abashed. lips zipped. vanquished. trounced. tripped. pummeled. pounced. held down. battled. combative. fighting. futile. skirmish. dog-piled. sullied. rattled. soiled. pooped. soaking. barfy. mortified. tended to. no words. first aid. assistance. first-responders. reassured. bundled. backed. buttressed. rescued. covered. IV cannulas. peace of mind. scooped up. swooped up. signed refusal. advocates. ambulance. helicopter. intubated. life-supported. merciful. helpers. army. lifted. buoyed. forever-indebted. kept afloat. restored. revived. released. cavalry. police. paramedics. doctors. nurses. pillows. blankets. shirts off backs. firemen. EMTs. innocent bystanders. steeled. gaining altitude. enduring. heartened. indurate. grateful. 'we're here with you' 'you're alright' 'here's some water' 'don't be sorry' 'hold my hand' gratitude. gratitude...like a heartbeat. Relieved. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Inter-ictal</b>- nervous. risky. iffy. chancy. what-iffing. neurotic. catastrophizing. barn sour. buzzing. disclosure. divulging. disclaimer. closing in. bearing down. fated. insecure. disillusioned. awkward. owing. castaway. marooned. limbo. lampooned. buffoon. leaving. AMA. eloped. had enough. road-to-hoe. atrophy. festering. strength. waning. Sisyphus. struggle. hopeless. helpless. impotent. snowball. cascade. avalanche. exacerbated. isolated. speeding. rolling. downhill. hasty. heart-racing. momentum. growing. slippery-slope. migraine. achy. malaise. same song. same dance. pitiful. pity. repeating. repeating. blood draws. MRIs. labs. CT scans. neurology. assessments. a million apologies. survivor's guilt. admission. depression. jinxed. omission. secret. shrouded. cloaked. PTSD. superstition. que será. exasperated. searching. seeking. resigned. re-searching. committed. confined. enclosed. cooped up. stripped. detained. taboo. brain-mapped. hospital bed. battleship. bed alarms. bed pans. bare-assed. catheters. watched. proctored. monitored. under observation. scrutinized. insomnia. managed. assessed. whack-a-mole. at-a-loss. clandestine. unmentionable. date-with-destiny. entrenched. mountains. valleys. somber. somnolent. gravid. graveyard. rubble. death. restless. uneasy. unreasonable. accommodations. cathartic. kid gloves. hovering. looming. anathema. animus. ominous. underlying. unspoken. soldiering. still going. keeping on. clinging.</span><i style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </i><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">hospital socks. slipping down. grippy dots. don't fail me now. </span><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Maranatha. Lord come quickly</span><i style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">. </i><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Your will be done. Re</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Benzodiazepine</b>- die. dying. diazepam. benzo. bozo. blackout. smashed. hazy. crushed. inky. incapacitated. opaque. brick. hit the rim. seizure rebound. <i>spirit catches you and you fall down.</i> central nervous system shutdown. respiratory-depression. power-outage. circuits. shorted. lights out. dampened. hampered. distant. withdrawing. alone. longing. formication. skin-crawling. pawing. pausing. sloppy. topple. mask. facade. need. stash. hoard. short-supply. dopey. snow globe. anesthetized. house abandoned. not home. out-to-lunch. door slammed. suppressed. soupy. grimy. barefoot. banished. PO. buccal. buckled. oral. PRN. 'as-needed' 'for seizures' tablets. drip. intravenous. intranasal. intramuscular. injection. inhibit. cope. squelch. midazolam. ativan. lorazepam. timenapper van. lifenapper van. boomerang. how'd we get here? under water. out-to-sea. amnesia. swept away. goodbye, dignity. hello, fatigue. head down to the rectal suppository. diastat. and 'figure your shit out'. 'please'</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Seizure</b>- seizure salad. Julius Caesar. tryant. dictator. overtake. overlord. word-salad. brain-salad. attention-seek. theatrics. lost in space. teleported. dropped-out. fixed gaze. fright train twinge. tingle. swelling. prodrome. blessed warning. induced. suspended. stranded. heavy. hanging by a thread. contracted. quicksand. quicken. seizure threshhold. pit. abyss. brink. void. teeter. cliff. precipice. foisted. avoidant. hurled. chasm. scarp. spastic. spasm. cramp. crevasse. palisade. pang. apprehension. indiscriminate. merciless. tense. braced. hyper-vigilant. aspirate. cease. stricken. snatched up. departed. detached. lip-smacking. in the clutches. carpe diem. seizure day. hash mark. eating carpet. carpet-bomb. cluster. carping. seized. unconscious. involuntary. lose control. exploring. probed. violent. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">surfed. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">sunk. floor safari. syringe. lobes. frontal. parietal. temporal. occipital. meningial. lobectomy. lobotomy, resection. spanner in the works. textbook. hallmark. complex. flop. sweat. vomit. filth. flailing. fail. bladder. bowels. fluids. leaking. seeped out. suplex. faceplant. pain in the proverbial eggplant. flopping like a porpoise. lost. swimming. treading water. flounder. adrift. unmoored. sucked asunder. jellyfish. sore. unsettled. untethered. frothing. on the ground. maggot. not grounded. harpooned. pooched. slayed. slain. anxious. guttural. groan. cry. wince. angst. yell loudly. reaching out. shout into darkness. evulsion. evil. revolting. rebellion. repulsive. bellow. convulsive. voided. incontinence. gripped. gripe. worry. fret. fear. nothing to hold onto. slipping. weeping. nightwatch. stopwatch. crap. protracted. time it. 'hang on, buckaroo.' 'keep breathing' 'we love you.' 8 seconds. eternity. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><i><b>Vagal Nerve Stimulator</b></i>- (titillating, isn't it?) stimulation. stimulated. stimulator. stimulus. pulse-generator. implant. interred. embedded. electrode. undercover. covert. VNS. vague. trip to </span>Venus. <span>Vegus. wanderer. </span>invasion. <span>alien. foreign. body. scar. incision. last-nerve. tenth nerve. cranial nerve. [CN][X]. cost-benefit-analysis. gamble. dicey. dyspnoea. decided. impulse. decisions. wheeze. breathless. bated. </span><span>waiting.</span><span> arrhythmia. infection. stitches. slit. sliced open. knots. knotted up. sutures. interrupted. no avail. naughty. coiled. wrapped. frayed. in-the-fray. focal-motor. prophylactic. </span>neuromodulation. esophageal. hiatus. heralded. MAUDE. report. inoperable. raspy voice. frontal lobotomy. pectoralis fascia. chest pocket. cerebrum. cerebellum. frontal cortex. glial. corpus collostomy. thalamus. basal ganglia. brainstem. bionic. cyberonics. LivaNova. no va. no go. 'help her' 'help her, Mom' 'Jesus' 'please' 'swipe the magnet'</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><i>Drugs</i></b>- druggie. addict. bum. derelict. bummed-out. strung-out. taught-as-a-tick. psychoactive<wbr></wbr>, psychotropic. numb. obtunded. spacey. capsule. sluggish. blitzed. de<wbr></wbr>pendent. deep end. dragged. alarm-set. impai<wbr></wbr>red. spaced-out. hooked. netted. reeling. caught. digging through rubbish. memory-loss. sloshed.<wbr></wbr> drugged. stupor. hashtag. poundsign.<i> #AimforZero, loser. </i>cobwebs. dusty. vacant. attic. panacaea. pills. inscriptions. magic. beanstalk beans. bullets. bitter. tablets. cognitive. deficits. retarded. sedated. vain. seeking. diving. jaded. elaborate. incessant. incantations: la-mo-tri-gine. le-ve-tir-a-<wbr></wbr>ce-tam. lac-o-sa-mide. ox-car-<wbr></wbr>baz-a-pine. carb-a-maz-a-pine. pheny-toin. zo-nis-a-mide. phen-o-barb-it-al. val-pro-ic-a-cid. gab-a-pen-tin. to-pir-a-mate...honeymoon. crestfallen. titrate. taper. vacated. skeptical. drowning. defeated. medi-cull. medi-cult. donezodiazepined. habituated. tolerance. missed-dose anxiety. refractory. frequency<wbr></wbr>. too many. episodes. garbled. wrong channel. static. snowed. M.<wbr></wbr>Dieties. wanton. empty. bottles. ineffective. regimen.<wbr></wbr> vital-mins. vials. vitals-in-<wbr></wbr>the-toilet. oblivious. denial. bitter. black label. AED darts. anti-*<i>epileptic*</i> <wbr></wbr>medications- (anti *'person with epilepsy?') infinite. side-effects. toss back. swallow. slurring. slowing. spinning. hopium. hope-on-a-rope. delusions. wallow. 'word-finding deficit' read-a-script. prescribed. non-compliant. unsubscribed. defiant. denied. vulnerable. suggestible. choke down. susceptible. swaying. public nuisance. dork. gorked. strain on the system. Gonzo Lorenzo. <i>Alice in Wonderland</i>. out-of-your-gourd. 'love you honey, but we just can't do this anymore'</span></div><div><i><b><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></i></div><div><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i><b>Disabled</b></i>- invalid. infirm. handicapped. crippled. feeble. incompetent.<wbr></wbr> damaged goods. victim. debilitated. undermined. out-of-commission. cloistered. exiled. disordered. insufficient. derpy. daffy. dolt. defective. 'affirmative-action hire' reject. fruitless. maimed. mutilated. effed. 'handicapable' pariah. ailing. feckless. smoo<wbr></wbr>th-brained. problem child. diminished. bereft. annulled. faulty. stunted. moribund. good-for-<wbr></wbr>nothing. useless. torn. knocked down. burden. slow kid. impotent. blemished. red shirted. demanding. desperate. dolt. disqualified. meager. weak. hors de combat. benched from life. God-forsaken. disavowed. cast aside. blighted. dulled. fragile. vegetable. NA. besmirched. wil<wbr></wbr>ted. shriveled. delayed. disappoint<wbr></wbr>ing. cross-to-bear. burgled. charity case. discarded. bound and gagged. robbed. chasing. clipp<wbr></wbr>ed wings.freak. grief. statistic. hogti<wbr></wbr>ed. dead weight. hobbled. timid. hijacked. kneecapped. gutted. deceased. buried. grieving. bargaining. </span></div><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">'here lies hope' rest in peace, my darling dreams. </span></p><div class="mail-message expanded" id="m#msg-a:r-7458418603484653112"><div class="mail-message-footer spacer collapsible" style="height: 0px;"></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><i>Tonic-clonic</i></b>- </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">gin and tonic. giant. Goliath. evil spirits. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">tipsy. topsy. turvy. fizzle. stirred. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">swirl. pop. swizzle. bubble. fizz. surge. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">let loose. touched. possessed. inhabited. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">owing. owned. Legion. jinn. demons. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">mauled. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">dirty. sabotaged. violated. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">exorcism.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">u</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">nquenchable. back-and-forth. self-destruct. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">mutiny. micturia. ironic. paradox. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">chronic. afflicted. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">paroxysm.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">painless.<wbr></wbr> </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">illness. diagnosis. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">catastrophic. brain-dead. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">on-the-rocks. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">contagious. tumbling. tumult. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">plate tectonic. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">shifty. seismic. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">lightning. bolted. hiatus. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">jolted. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">AWOL. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">jilted.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> jitters. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">voltage. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">eruption. purulent. boils. lanced. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">embroiled. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">exploded. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">blinking.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><wbr></wbr> </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">bulb. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">breakthrough. broken through. shaking. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">bleeding. shaky. bloody. vicious. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Grand mal- <i>petty</i> mal. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">malevolent. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">ma<wbr></wbr>licious. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">mal-adaptive.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">bad. larceny. crook. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">torched. razed. arson. cooked. </span><i style="font-family: georgia;">Populus tremuloides.</i><span style="font-family: georgia;"> shaken. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">quaking aspen. tremling leaf. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">shook.</span></span></div><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> <i style="font-weight: bold;">Aura- </i> (alright <i>sounding, </i>I guess) trusty warning. premonition. mixed blessing. faithful. shepherd. lambs to slaughter. creeping upward. paresthesia. foreboding. stomach dropping. tide rising. threat mounting. dread swelling. faustian bargain. savior. beseeching. Jacksonian. marching. mind-over-matter. matter-of-time. ticking timebomb. 'oh no' 'you again' 'shit, shit, darn it' fickle friend.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i><b>Absence</b></i>- blank stare. absent (<span>gone</span>.)</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Have i missed anything? (Have i sufficiently flogged this long-dead, heavy-hoofed, hyperbolic, horrort?)</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">...And HEY LOOK! Brand new lambs!.</span></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh62xWgZT8KtHDgsUEZy8wnyk0WzhPfhlkcg3Pwl_DGUOGDCCWd_EbMyszVOfFtjQxgAgnBwtkytDY8X5enkzCMwR2c9fchD5HK8-C3-1hPdXiWcG2M0KbRoRVuPy0vkwXDn3cvcNIzOpDr1PTzQegnCgsSQm_UzQxl0hx4DAwSlkCv2AoKRD4U-LAlrg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="3120" data-original-width="4160" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh62xWgZT8KtHDgsUEZy8wnyk0WzhPfhlkcg3Pwl_DGUOGDCCWd_EbMyszVOfFtjQxgAgnBwtkytDY8X5enkzCMwR2c9fchD5HK8-C3-1hPdXiWcG2M0KbRoRVuPy0vkwXDn3cvcNIzOpDr1PTzQegnCgsSQm_UzQxl0hx4DAwSlkCv2AoKRD4U-LAlrg=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvjxeg0g5dtF5bwrLneciRgYFJvj7XGSbheBiNbc4as1meAeNu9vCQUv7V3ySJ-RQL3uPlcVlvsrU4wl8-mBE25CeSChsL6LJgqqUAYL59aCfKSFZVfRvEeyAEiz6n5TKNNj8CSgfX0EbMy3EZlBOsVsE68nMXDW9O-WmVxuI4KAscwqKiQeQNdssAtw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img data-original-height="3120" data-original-width="4160" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvjxeg0g5dtF5bwrLneciRgYFJvj7XGSbheBiNbc4as1meAeNu9vCQUv7V3ySJ-RQL3uPlcVlvsrU4wl8-mBE25CeSChsL6LJgqqUAYL59aCfKSFZVfRvEeyAEiz6n5TKNNj8CSgfX0EbMy3EZlBOsVsE68nMXDW9O-WmVxuI4KAscwqKiQeQNdssAtw=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-7902725710856883882022-11-23T22:34:00.011-08:002022-12-08T12:55:27.166-08:00woop woop /s<p>I don't believe in jinxes. (I tell myself.)</p><p>But I do believe in manifestation, in prayer, in quantum. </p><p>I
believe we're mostly dust and clay and a few random elements strung up a
lattice of code, spiraling out like yarn from our thoughts and the stories we tell about
ourselves; plied together with the stories we accept from the outside
about us. Fibers. Looming. The portal on the spinning wheel of
existence. The 'orifice' the part on the wheel where thread feeds through from the spinners hands to the bobbin, my sister says it's called. Or something. </p><p>When
I came here and posted the police report my intention was to close out
the chapter and turn this into a sheep-shearing blog. I still
have lots of shearing pictures and stories i'm looking forward to sharing with you.</p><p>I'm a poor historian. Has it been a few months now things have been a
little off? Not bad, just wonky. Could have strung a yarn or two from
it, but mostly just the usual attention-seeking antics and nothing much
to report. Gratitude. Then for whatever reason, whyeverthefuck i had the audacity
to poke the proverbial bear i guess. Posting here. (Kidding/not kidding,
ha.)<br /></p><p>Fought the cops again, you guys. Ugh. When I didn't
think i could possibly be more embarrassed than i'd already been on this seizure-having journey, i'm, pretty sure i went and leveled up. I should probably explain the whole
scene. I remember more gory details than i care to admit. Feck. Am I
just mellowdrama? Goodness. Can you see my sweet bruise? <br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://draft.blogger.com/u/1/%23&source=gmail&ust=1669342174958000&usg=AOvVaw1uWYNCyyqmtOuLtS83fk8l" href="https://draft.blogger.com/u/1/#" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://ci5.googleusercontent.com/proxy/oiv6ZHpeDz_dmuh5wIv-QoFj5C0xocDNStmi8zgxSK0tRqlnIMfG1_qnqJVUmnZEordZniYAUcB2ddwyXkOGKq1ryDHjgE2_Zgz1DScoGFs4s44b0sOi1TE8YWjf3tGY63c4obZeaVdz1e5ZLWIrUvbz2kDxM_juit3SP3n2i9XHsMvzl6orbC8zmr1DlEewuQeav8PY_q5KyaG95nRFLFCP7kwnA8MKBdSyqpw5AAhTqAS_hgyj-HVonlhMik5IKfphmwCZHVtnRXcJlXhcaMJNMqzhxXcUa9BVGBzEANrD21A3kQjEcyPM8bWi7dBSacK1u_DA0Th9dacVgHoTC65oVB2YE-D62maUn0U1uydz3mm9lQk5O1ECN3DrK_5_CBM9fQ=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>I'm fairly confident with things, but I'm afraid i'll always
feel insecure about having seizures. Is it bad telling those stories? It
really seemed like we'd come to some sort of understanding, the local
first-responders and me. I don't want to be that person any more. I barely have it in me taking on my own gremlins much less fighting helpers. Especially not the strong and strapped and tactical ones. And i'm a whole new level of mortified. What the actual.?<br /></p><p>Anyhow,
don't get to thinking *this* is my like okay?! Somehow yet another,
anomalous, head shake interaction starring yours truly. Like a cringe
Ben Stiller movie. Is another one of those play-by-plays going to be
hard to stomach? Geeze. See below for footage of my *actual* life (our mom feeding a new lamb at my sister's. [Forgive my awful voice in the background]) and i'll try to muster up the courage to tell you how this last debacle went...<br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzNc_oVyX7ihf5J2XbZo8kQlpMUdH8Pmm4JPyQ4990DcdgKuYxf1pJ2dQjb9UzHdfNibmVoF0goO8t9BUxHyQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p> <br /></p>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-26856028335900688802022-11-03T16:46:00.009-07:002022-11-06T13:29:38.642-08:00The Catchening Upping<p>Goodness. You're unbelievable being here, not giving up on me and my musings. Holy cow. </p><p>Life's been good for the most part.</p><p>About a week after I last checked in here, which was just after I lost my job at the community center, I ran into some local business owners who I'd worked for previously. They asked if I could use any work and I said as a matter of fact I could. I've been working on their farmstead as a farm hand/factotem ever since. </p><p>They're a neat couple and have taken me in like family. Her father was head of NASA during the Apollo missions. (You could say her family came to the states from Germany on a paperclip after 1940 Armistice, if you know what i mean...) Her husband grew up in South Idaho on a dairy farm and straight out of college got a job working for the EPA and put at the head of the largest superfund site in the lower 48. Working for them reminds me of my ranch job on the river in a lot of ways. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH9Aun7YU2y6y4I3PucRfwQeYq0I8GSN8qWpuo_PQxmKsn6mzW6Ns_EyoEeyO7eUINMdGalr4aE2GFRtNpXMeLRLV8fyWVln1aohxzAme7yyWIn4kEdCEdspkhTCj_iddUXBLyVmcWf3ThRd12QBFSwkzVHHSgTB1axSMV8jGr0vn6-M-54Pn_aUAyHw/s1077/vonTruck.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1077" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH9Aun7YU2y6y4I3PucRfwQeYq0I8GSN8qWpuo_PQxmKsn6mzW6Ns_EyoEeyO7eUINMdGalr4aE2GFRtNpXMeLRLV8fyWVln1aohxzAme7yyWIn4kEdCEdspkhTCj_iddUXBLyVmcWf3ThRd12QBFSwkzVHHSgTB1axSMV8jGr0vn6-M-54Pn_aUAyHw/w634-h640/vonTruck.jpg" title="von Truck on the von Farm work front" width="634" /></a></div><br /><p>I dated a guy for a couple of years, an orchardist/pig farmer. It was mostly good. He was a great friend on a lot of fronts when it was nice to have a great friend. We were aligned philosophically on most things, just not big, big picture. (For the record, he dumped me, ultimately.) It took me a little by surprise, but I wasn't totally broken up over it. Ah well. </p><p>And that's pretty much it! Farm hand most of the time and lately we've been sheep-shearing (me and my sister!). I'm fixin to make a whole post about my first run shearing on a crew, but generally i've been pretty bad about documenting the cool places and cute things we've encountered out de-fleecing. (It's a little nerve-wracking. Once we've established ourselves with our small flock customers, and as we get better, we'll be a little braver taking pictures and recording things, hopefully.)</p><p>I did get the VNS replaced. They swap out the whole generator, not just the battery. It seems a little different than the last one. I'm still not totally off the fence with this iteration, either, I'll admit, but it's probably a net positive, i'd guess. I aim to make a whole post about it someday. Maybe.</p><p>The last couple of months have been squirrely. Nothing totally spectacular, thankfully, save for one public display of affliction in front of the checkout counters at the local grocery store about a month ago. At this point part of me assumes the whole town has seen already, but it doesn't stop whatever shards of pride i have left from being mortified for a while after it happens somewhere busy.</p><p>Mostly i'm trying to not be a shite show between now and February. My sister and I have a spot on a shearing crew again. I'm trying not to be too excited. I love shearing <i>so</i> much. Don't think she wants to take me if I'm having seizures, though, so... Ah well.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQb9l2abLJEIpf95mndIhyyryYJZCOKGm5lNfraFEC5k8v7YpI7heIYeRQ1cidlv9ZfG-NQCOqIV4rrOWNXuBsafbeH7OAxg6vwM3vdGJJCKta4pEQS5H7dQoQ7TkyVSn5x5pQfNq3wlmc50Rf2Qp6u1PEwM5ayoiZ1MemlGvmqgR6UDqDjNi0rm4n3Q/s2260/20221026_164443_3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2260" data-original-width="1868" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQb9l2abLJEIpf95mndIhyyryYJZCOKGm5lNfraFEC5k8v7YpI7heIYeRQ1cidlv9ZfG-NQCOqIV4rrOWNXuBsafbeH7OAxg6vwM3vdGJJCKta4pEQS5H7dQoQ7TkyVSn5x5pQfNq3wlmc50Rf2Qp6u1PEwM5ayoiZ1MemlGvmqgR6UDqDjNi0rm4n3Q/w528-h640/20221026_164443_3.jpg" width="528" /></a></div><br /><p>Guess I need to take the dog out. We're back in the darkness these days, up here. </p><p>Hope you're finding plenty of light to fill your heart wherever you are, dear reader.</p>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-82722996059999198572022-10-31T17:11:00.017-07:002022-11-04T12:13:33.742-07:00The Report<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6N047jqdyoieXalZ3jHm08Y2a4bv-NtT1-um9ld6HCJCztwqqdjDVN2l7qaiZ2XukKRkphhwoJQGsi2y9l7f4Kf9ipc7vD2C8DZoWab1iWHw99cuYTI5CY2Idm24ikaTUBCCkGwP_DLevgw-9xkBwkAsk_ykNRzVnprbMJgxDquBf9xKbzsDZ-4EGA/s680/riversedgeshearing22.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="680" data-original-width="514" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6N047jqdyoieXalZ3jHm08Y2a4bv-NtT1-um9ld6HCJCztwqqdjDVN2l7qaiZ2XukKRkphhwoJQGsi2y9l7f4Kf9ipc7vD2C8DZoWab1iWHw99cuYTI5CY2Idm24ikaTUBCCkGwP_DLevgw-9xkBwkAsk_ykNRzVnprbMJgxDquBf9xKbzsDZ-4EGA/w485-h640/riversedgeshearing22.jpg" width="485" /></a></div><br /><p>Ran into the former paramedic/EMS Chief out on the street the other day who <a href="https://allisonimacaroni.blogspot.com/2016/02/quite-possibly-biggest-wtf-moment-in-my.html" target="_blank">put the restraint around my neck</a> <i>while</i> i was having a seizure over a decade ago. He was so shrunken and aged I almost didn't recognize him- far from the red-faced hulk man that's taken up so much real-estate in my axious, calamity mind and memories. </p><p>He's since been replaced by the most incredible superhero medic and she's been such solid, unwavering, stellar help, I can only believe God dispatched her code straight from Heaven to Moscow. </p><p>Now that that real-life boogeyman is no longer a factor i'm realizing my brain has latched onto dreading over the next bag of eggplants, and is probably giving him the same sort of undue power and fear. I eluded to this event in my last post i think. Thankfully I haven't been in the hospital many times since, but i'm not sure if this nurse is still there, wanting me ban-hammered from the premesis or what. My sister said there's a new E.R. doc that's chill, so that's great news. Hopefully he can just send me home before I have time or opportunity to interface with too many disgruntled R.N.s.</p><p>It was really stressful at the time (more than a year ago now). I was in the hospital after a seizure- the first thing I was aware, my hoodie was being pulled up over my head along with my bra so my whole bare chest was exposed. The hood was torn almost entirely off of my sweatshirt. My hands were being held and twisted up back behind my back in some sort of rear-hold arm bar thing. This dude is to the left of me, in my face, doing all this Krav maga meets playground imp tactics and I'm already fighting him. I remember trying to say something like, 'let go' or 'back off and we're cool', but I'm not sure how it came out. I shoved him away (center mass not face) with my foot when he didn't let go of me. That's when I'm pretty sure he called the cops.</p><p>They told me the case was still pending. I tried to get a copy of the police report a few days later, but it was weeks before they gave me <i>any</i> information. (A little nerve-wracking. I'm still not sure what would've happened if he won. If you can get 86'ed for being combative? Would EMS have to drive you to the next town?) God bless this police officer is all i have to say... This is a direct copy/paste of the report, they <i>finally</i> sent me, much to my great relief. (I redacted the last names of the CNAs just to protect their web-presence so anything in the narrative with brackets is my doing).</p><p>(Forgive me being such a stranger. Love you.)</p><p>02/08/21 Moscow Police Department 1156</p><p>10:08 LAW Incident Table: Page: 1</p><p>Incident Number 21-M00802 Nature Battery</p><p>Address✓ 700 S MAIN ST; Gritman </p><p>= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =</p><p>INVOLVEMENTS:</p><p>Type Record # Date Description Relationship</p><p>NM 265002 01/29/21 JACKSON, ALLISON ELEANOR Suspect</p><p>NM 342699 01/29/21 [REDACTED], GRACE J Witness</p><p>NM 437034 01/29/21 [REDACTED], JACLYN L Witness</p><p>NM 450883 01/29/21 INSCOE, BRADLEY G Victim</p><p>MI 15141 01/29/21 Watchguard Case Record WG 113</p><p>CA 21-006352 01/28/21 22:39 01/28/21 Disorderly *Initiating Call</p><p>DS 54455 02/08/21 Allison Jackson PRR/Requested</p><p>DS 54366 01/29/21 Jackson PRR/ denied</p><p>_________</p><p>General Narrative Outline</p><p>1. Offense</p><p>None</p><p>2. Synopsis / PC</p><p>Allison Jackson was coming out of a seizure and struck a Registered Nurse,</p><p>Bradley G. Inscoe, that was trying to perform care on her. Inscoe believed</p><p>Jackson intended to hit him. Two other witnesses described Jackson's actions as</p><p>being out of confusion, consistent with a subject coming out of a seizure.</p><p>3. Total Property Value(Damaged/Stolen)</p><p>N/A</p><p>4. Additional Responding Officers</p><p>Ofc. Snyder</p><p>5. Evidence</p><p>N/A</p><p>6. Narrative</p><p>On 01/28/21, at approximately 2239 hours, I responded to 700 S. Main St.</p><p>(Gritman ER) reference a disorderly subject that had became physical. The</p><p>dispatch notes stated the subject was Allison Jackson. I am familiar with</p><p>Jackson throughout my eight year career due to her chronic seizures. I am also</p><p>aware that Jackson is known to become confused and combative when she is coming</p><p>out of a seizure episode.</p><p>Upon arrival, two ER nurses were speaking with Jackson and indicated they did</p><p>not want us to speak with Jackson. I went to the ER Nurse's station and spoke</p><p>with a Registered Nurse, Bradley G. Inscoe. Inscoe advised Jackson screamed at</p><p>him, punched him in the face, and attempted to kick him while he was helping</p><p>her change clothes. I asked Inscoe where he was punched in the face. Inscoe</p><p>indicated he was punched just below the right eye, on the cheekbone. I did not</p><p>see any obvious injuries. I asked Inscoe if Jackson was coming out of a seizure.</p><p>Inscoe said she went from seizing to groggy to throwing punches. I told Inscoe</p><p>in my previous experience with Jackson she can become combative with exiting a</p><p>seizure episode. Inscoe said he believed Jackson continued to attacked him even</p><p>when she was more aware of what was going on around her and described her</p><p>actions as deliberate. I asked Inscoe what he wished to have happen. Inscoe</p><p>advised he thought Jackson should be charged with Battery. I asked Inscoe if</p><p>anyone else was in the room when the altercation took place. Inscoe told me</p><p>Grace J. [REDACTED] (CNA) and Jaclyn L. [REDACTED] (CNA) were present.</p><p>I contacted Jackson and asked her to tell me what happened. Jackson said she</p><p>left Gritman against medical advice previously and returned to be seen, because</p><p>she realized she needed medical attention. Jackson said she had a seizure and</p><p>when she woke up, her hair was being pulled and her shirt was being taken off. </p><p>Jackson said she was confused, and added that was typical for her when she is exiting a seizure episode.</p><p>I contacted [Grace J. (CNA)] and asked her to tell me what happened. [She] said</p><p>Jackson had a seizure and her, Inscoe and [Jaclyn L., (CNA)] were attempting to provide</p><p>some patient care. [She] said when Jackson started to exit the seizure</p><p>episode, she seemed to be focused on Inscoe and struck him in the face. I asked</p><p>[her] to describe Jackson's demeanor and she described Jackson as appearing</p><p>confused. [She] advised the altercation happened pretty quickly after the</p><p>seizure.</p><p>I contacted [Jaclyn L. (CNA)] and asked her to tell me what happened. [Her] story</p><p>matched [Grace J., CNA's]. [She] described Jackson's post seizure state as confused</p><p>and that Jackson seemed 'flipped a switch' and her aggression was directed at</p><p>Inscoe. I asked [her] what Jackson's demeanor was prior to the seizure.</p><p>[she] said Jackson was calm.</p><p>Based on the statements from the above persons and my first hand experience with</p><p>Jackson in the past, I believe Jackson's actions were the result of a medical</p><p>episode and not a conscious criminal act.</p><p>9. Case Status</p><p>CLOSED</p><p>10. Referred to Specialty</p><p>No</p><p>I certify (or declare) under penalty of perjury pursuant to the law of the State</p><p>of Idaho that the foregoing is true and correct.</p><p>Fri Jan 29 06:19:44 PST 2021</p><p>S Gunderson 113</p><p>Reviewed By:</p><p>Sgt. Dustin Blaker #108</p><p>Fri Jan 29 15:45:37 PST 2021</p>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-5271503339009173812021-03-26T17:01:00.017-07:002021-03-29T09:51:11.119-07:003.26<p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Yay, March 26, World Epilepsy Awareness day, where we collectively tell seizures to eat a dick.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I've been meaning and wanting to respond to comments but my laptop is fooked and I'm a dork at typing on my phone like this. I appreciate your comments and love you all dearly.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I've been a monster of a combative, attention-seeking, drugged out seizure muppet. Pretty mortifying.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I'm marveling. How it went from 4-5 years of staying out of the hospital entirely (save for a broken leg having fun, oops) to my current state of affairs is beyond me. Im grieving the mostly normal life I'd grown accustomed to and plans I was foolishly entertaining for a second there.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I could probably type a flood given a keyboard and an afternoon. At the same time I have absolutely no idea about anything.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Since December I've been waiting to feel something like baseline. Something like solid ground under my feet. (Okay, not *concrete*, but not mire or smagma or quicksand, at least. )</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Any time i muster some inkling of faith in the system it seems to get trounced in a jif.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Got myself into a pharma snafu. Failed to ask for the right help at the right time. Didn't want to be going off seizure medications cold turkey like a dumbo, but lo and behold, there i was. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The hospital was the last place I wanted to be, but, i went.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I *just* wanted one, maybe two doses of fecking generic Trileptal. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Last I knew I was B.S.ing with a great nurse I hadn't seen in years. The doctor was going to let me call for a ride and let me go home. I woke up intubated having been Life-Flighted to a hospital in Coeur d'Alene.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I'm free now. Not sure how long I was there exactly. Got to see my cousin and her cute kids, so that was cool.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Don't know if I'll ever, ever manage to talk myself into getting help from any hospital ever again. Fair or not. If you could die from embarrassment, I would have, so you can remove that mortal danger from your hearts and minds, dear friends.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I hope you're well. Haven't caught up with your worlds in a bit, regrettably. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Please forgive my whinging.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Love to you from Wherever the Heck. <3 <3 <3</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-boQvikNv4ak/YF55lLJZejI/AAAAAAAADQo/z-rMADtgg44nwTT6_s7IBsjZqrtkKyPXACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20210326_170328.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1702" data-original-width="2048" height="533" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-boQvikNv4ak/YF55lLJZejI/AAAAAAAADQo/z-rMADtgg44nwTT6_s7IBsjZqrtkKyPXACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h533/20210326_170328.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">My cousin's son made me a masterpiece while I was hostage. My heart.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-43787137786416428762021-03-10T17:57:00.024-08:002022-11-02T12:31:33.804-07:00Twenty Twenty Wonderment<p><span style="color: #800180; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Seems I put the where? in January. February went better; I remember most of it anyhow. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">My thoughts and sentiments are mostly disbelief. How is this my story? I want to deny all ownership. A silly mix-up. A bad dream. Living under the sword of Damocles- certainly not mine, the life of a seizure queen. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I was admitted to the hospital three more times, to the E.R. a few more times than that.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">One of the hospital stays I was in two or three days, left AMA and remember absolutely nothing. Zip. Nada. Walked home with a poor, concerned, benevolent CNA and a doctor trailing by the sound of it. (Thank goodness I only live a few blocks.) I don't know if it was that time or yet another I'd eloped like a drunken ungulate with a CNA at my heels as I (supposedly) clopped right out in front of traffic on the busiest street in town, capturing the attention of the hospital CEO who witnessed from a short distance. Oops. Now, for better or worse, I'm on the risk management radar. I'm supposed to meet with them soon with an official care plan.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">My most recent E.R. visit I was all kinds of blips for the risk management folks; some jackwagon R.N. tried to have me charged me with battery when i was combative towards him coming out of a seizure. I'm mortified. Defeated. Traumatized. After so many seizures in this hospital, in this E.R., after <i>all</i> this time. I thought we'd come to some kind of understanding, but yet again, I'm fighting hospital staff for my life before i'm fully aware of what's happening. Should i tell you what all I remember of it? Or is that just more of my attention-seeking histrionics? I feel like a magnet for melodrama. Good land.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It was too bad. I was so, so SO grateful that up until then all the time I'd been holed up there, i hadn't recalled anything traumatic. I wasn't shackled to a bed. No terror, despair or distress i was aware of outside my own battles against internal torrents. I don't remember any of it, but was told i'd even had an amicable interaction with an E.R. doc that once yelled in my face, <b style="font-style: italic;">"YOU'RE GONNA DIE!!! YOU'RE GONNA DIIIIE!!!"</b>, so that was cool.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I crashed all around my house when I got home, whacked out on seizure drugs. About the time I was finding my equilibrium, it was time to increase the dose again.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">My mom and dad came. Each of them stayed a week or so. It was a mixed bag. I was grateful. It's good to see them, but it's also hard watching them grow ever more hyper vigilant as their seizure-sitting detail progressed. <i>No Mom, just the dog. ... I'm fine, Dad, i think. Just a crash.</i> I feel so bad. So guilty. Maybe shame, if i'm honest. I know the shame is self-defeating, but it's a monkey of a knapsack i just can't shake. I resented all the sacrifices they made to be there for me. I was sick of constant company with zero alone time. But i appreciate them and love them dearly. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">For a few days I was getting lost in my own neighborhood and hallucinating and no one can say why. First I saw thousands of ticks and spiders in my house, but later I saw walking trees and a whole band of Native Americans on horseback, in full regalia coming down a hill, so that was interesting.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">My friends were/are? basically fighting. One even had beef with my mom. Ugh.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">My boss let me go me a week ago. I'm glad she did in the sense i don't want to be more worry than i'm worth, or some kind of charity. Though it does feel like a small betrayal. I wish she hadn't said anything.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I'm considering going on disability. I'm really torn about it.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">My VNS battery is low, turns out, so i'm supposed to decide if i'm going to get that swapped soon. I can speak more specifically to that later, though.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I think of many of you bloggers so often, i hope you know. <a href="https://elizabethaquino.substack.com" target="_blank">Elizabeth</a>, who encouraged me to write. I think of you every time i see a Mazda; every time i venture baking any sort of pastry or cake outside of my skill set, (so basically all of them); every time i meet a hero parent fighting the system; when i hear and play a whole handful of songs; when i hear anything about Los Angeles. Not to mention a good deal of the however long it took me to get through the 824 pages of Brothers Karamazov, which i really enjoyed and likely never would have read absent your recommendation.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"><a href="http://blessourhearts.net" target="_blank">Ms. Moon</a> i think of you every time there's a hurricane or some dude doin something crazy in the news in Florida (so like every day, ha). I think of you when i hear about them Weeki Wachi springs or the mermaids; every time the whatever-we-have-on-hand soup gallimaufry turns out scrumptious</span><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">; when i see a camellia, The Stones or Bill Murray, and so much more.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://interimarrangements.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sabine</a>, I think of you when i ride my bicycle along the river; when i hear anything about Germany (you're the only one i know there); when our mom voices death wishes; when i'm adding music to a post; when i hear of any perplexing vascular diseases; when i hear of or meet anyone in </span><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">wintery places who can grow things like Meyer Lemons and plumerias; when i hear of anyone on the</span><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"> cortisone/steroid roller coaster; when i'm feeling lonely waging war in pursuit of peace with a renegade body.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I love you all. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Thank you for your support. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZAVXOUCUCXs/YEl4dAGTPtI/AAAAAAAADPg/rjWHPAfNRZ8T2rhXnoZnrsLWFKa4PYxOACPcBGAsYHg/s4226/DSCN3272.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4226" data-original-width="2909" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZAVXOUCUCXs/YEl4dAGTPtI/AAAAAAAADPg/rjWHPAfNRZ8T2rhXnoZnrsLWFKa4PYxOACPcBGAsYHg/w440-h640/DSCN3272.jpg" width="440" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Tater loves you too</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-89227213434672469822021-01-02T09:59:00.061-08:002022-11-02T13:18:43.269-07:00More of the Same. But Different <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vKkh536Bqio/X_Ctwz_IdZI/AAAAAAAADNQ/HSj7OpOu3sEAhR-bW0omHrY8M7QgeuZCACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201107_145200%257E2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1925" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vKkh536Bqio/X_Ctwz_IdZI/AAAAAAAADNQ/HSj7OpOu3sEAhR-bW0omHrY8M7QgeuZCACLcBGAsYHQ/w602-h640/20201107_145200%257E2.jpg" width="602" /></span></a></div><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">Hi, </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">How's things? </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">My life has taken a few loops and unexpected turns I can't articulate here much further, for now, but i'm grateful. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I'm a poor historian, but I'd say since I last updated, the seizure scene has been mostly copacetic. I'd guess I've maintained an average of 3-4 months between. I had one cluster, i remember, but even then I was able to avoid the woo-woo bus and the hospital. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I still have the same part time gig (building maintenance at an event center). My boss has been pretty exceptional regarding the seizure factor. She even called my sister when I had one there once, and helped me get home without summoning the whole brigade. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">My sweet dog, Olive, died. My sister moved out of town. All my grandparents are gone. My leg is pretty well healed. You'd hardly know there's a big titanium rod in there most of the time. I'm back playing hockey, biking and kayaking. And that's life, i guess. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I learned a lot in counseling. Mostly on my own, granted, in attempt to better understand and trust the process. In any case, I liked the lady, she seemed smart and I trusted her. Then she breached confidentiality. Twice. Absent threat to life or limb or any reasonable justification. I tried to let go. It wasn't anything major, admittedly, but I couldn't get over it, so I quit.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">So here i am with another randosaurus report from the nutcase junkshow bunker. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I can't think of any notable lifestyle changes or stressors. I had low key anxiety about going to the hospital in general, post Rona, i suppose. It was high on my running list of objectives- <i>stay out of Gritman</i> (our local E.R.). And I had great success- check! Until I didn't. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I was on my bike running an errand. It was dark. I was afforded the luxury enjoyment of a brief debate. The prospect of an extemporaneous bicycle race home against my sometimes fractious, irascible neurons through two busy intersections was tempting,,, i have the brain and body of a prize fighter but i'm not as young or fast or resilient as I once was. I was on a stretch of sidewalk where I knew someone would find me eventually. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">Then I dunno. Not sure exactly why i was transported. My hunch is i was still unconscious when medics got there, and the opportunity to administer drugs and abscond with a sedated, seizure-zonked patient was understandably preferable to waiting around for the whole seizure puppet song and dance to transpire. I don't usually get the whole story, fortunately/unfortunately.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I think my brain tends to spiral in hospital settings after so many fights and desperate-feeling times there. I dunno. I've had seizures cluster outside the urgent care scene, though too, so who knows. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">So whether I needed to be there or not, there i was. It's my understanding none of the seizures were particularly severe or prolonged. I don't remember any part of being in the ER. I don't think I remember anything on the hospital floor until the second day. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">Praise Jesus for a phenomenal hospitalist; i was able to leave that night.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">My friend was able to stay most of the duration, thankfully, it sounds like, and has since helped me piece together some details. Not lots but some.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I remember taking out my I.V. toward the end. I don't remember feeling brash about it, just <i>done, </i>and resolute in my decision to vacate the premises. I don't remember what precipitated the verdict.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">The hospitalist came in and talked to me extensively. Like a really, really long time, from what I recall. Ack. She must have been adequately placated, though, with whatever promises I made to follow through with the freshly drafted pharmaceutical game plan. (Sure. Maybe. We'll see. I'm trying.) Barf. In any case, she let me free.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I remember eating beef stir fry that tasted good. (It was the only thing I'd eaten, apparently.) I remember looking for bed alarms to disable and realizing it was an I.V. drip machine squawking.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I don't know why anyone is so nice. I feel like a colossal waste of resources. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I just come crashing onto the stage like a wind up monkey bashing cymbals together, and disappear again. I don't deserve the care and concern I've garnered here or anywhere. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">People rallied around me. People I hadn't seen or heard from in a while helped coordinate care for me my dog and my bicycle.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I was gross. I'm always so gross. Doomed, infernal white bed sheets. I wasn't shackled or restrained to the unit in any way though, hallelujah. I kind of remember talking to my dad on the phone. I thought I saw my sister, but it was only Tami they said. Ah, well. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">So, however it all went, it wasn't overly traumatizing. I feel a little bit gas-lit regarding my lived experience on versus off antiepileptic drugs ('Anti- <i>epileptic' </i>drugs. Isn't language, funny?) But oh well. I don't deny science. I understand action potentials and most of the proposed mechanisms of action; I'm just afraid they're overly simplified heuristics is all. Even they admit the exact mechanism is unknown for most of the anti-seizure medications.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I'd quit pharmaceuticals entirely for the better part of a year without any notable repercussions. Yeah, yeah i hear you, I'm just trying to eliminate my reliance on as many criminal, enterprises as possible these days, okay? </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I wasn't in a bad place mentally. I'd made some great friends working a regenerative style farm. I'd identified some of my flawed thinking and schemas and recognized healthy and unhealthy attachment patterns in therapy, so my relationships seemed to be bearing the fruit of that. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I don't remember feeling particularly stressed until getting out of the hospital. Hopping back in the saddle on the western medical pony is giving me anxiety. I'm sure the new primary care docs in town are perfectly lovely, and the local neurology options are much improved. I just can't get myself excited about them. Sorry. I want to feel something other than 'over it' already, I do; I'm just failing at the moment. Wish I were better at just going along to get along.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I asked Dr. Brown if she'd chart i was faking or that I <i>told </i>her i was, at the very least, so maybe they'd hold the phone on the benzos. Hold the phone on everything.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I'm grateful, don't get me wrong- overwhelmed how people just deal with me all my associated biohazards and antics before I'm even cognizant and thereafter. I'm wildly impressed and humbled by that. I dont care much for the system but the people are wonderful.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">Do I need help? Sure. Do I think the Rockefeller deathcare mafia system is, this time, for once, prepared to render that to me in my shiny, new, combination therapy, big pharma prescription deal? Eh. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">Do I believe marinating in a hospital setting after seizures is the best recovery policy for <i>me</i>? No, afraid not.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #800180;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do i think my people are amazing, that people, in general are amazing? Totally</span>. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">What do you think, dear reader? Of my half-crocked strategy to tell them, <i>many thanks, but i'm a faker. Please unsubscribe me from your service</i>. ? Honestly I remember so little, I could be faking. At least I can't rule out concomitant dissociative seizures, certainly. I won't make mountains out of, nor deny real trauma I've been through. So there.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">Just seems no way an otherwise normal, healthy person like me could or should have so much trouble with this. I totally get how the demon possession mythos became intertwined and persisted with epilepsy. Sorry. I feel gremlin infested. I'd buy that.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">Just tell me the new, properly metered incantations '<i>ox-car-baz'ah-pine', 'la-mo-tri-gine' </i>will channel the benevolent pharmakia spirits equipped to rescue me from the jowls and bonds and bowels of physical and spiritual possession. </span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I've tolerated both of the drugs independently, at one time, so hopefully that bodes well. Ugh. I'm sure in a week the side effects will vanish and we'll be blissfully on the road to seizure freedom. That's how this all goes, right?</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">I don't want to be obstinate or lazy and have everything erupt like a spectacular, purulent infection, making an even bigger, smellier mess of things. I don't. But I really, really don't want to get back on the roller coaster of new medications, new doctors, and the bloody rest of it, either. I don't want to be such a royal waste of resources. I just want to be left alone. Pretty sure. Yikes.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">Besos. Abrazos. Best to you, adorable reader. Thanks for being here.</span></p><p><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;">Alli</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O949UCK0A0Q/X_CrsN4tL3I/AAAAAAAADMs/NU9DSrBRE6wEcP6Huben2SufitdpnkIVgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201111_161506.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O949UCK0A0Q/X_CrsN4tL3I/AAAAAAAADMs/NU9DSrBRE6wEcP6Huben2SufitdpnkIVgCLcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/20201111_161506.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oblFzCHHTfY/X_CsoRzC_9I/AAAAAAAADNE/jVPh3oT-9X49I699duToNrUneJVt5IqJACLcBGAsYHQ/s1711/IMG_20201030_234158_613.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1711" data-original-width="1440" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oblFzCHHTfY/X_CsoRzC_9I/AAAAAAAADNE/jVPh3oT-9X49I699duToNrUneJVt5IqJACLcBGAsYHQ/w538-h640/IMG_20201030_234158_613.jpg" width="538" /></span></a></div><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p><br /></p>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-33083626980030930262018-09-29T12:49:00.005-07:002021-04-14T14:02:50.991-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sorry for turning this place into such a cesspool. I don't mean to come here, dump shit and disappear, leaving behind dead and beheaded parcels like the feral, deranged UPS cat. I've always been a shit corresponder. Always mean to do better, and my ineptitude consistently betrays my care for the people I value most here and in 'real life'. Not sure what that is.<br />
<br />
I've been existing at humdrum for a time now, it seems. Quitting my job has eliminated a lot of bullshit stress from my day-to-day, but I've also missed a lot of support in the forms of good friends and financial stability. I have a part-time gig that pays hourly what I was making after 5 years at my last job, but I need to find something else soon to make ends meet.<br />
<br />
I don't know if I'll ever snap out of it. I'm a slug. I don't write, or art or music any more. Just dull, uninspired day-to-day work, eat, sleep, repeat.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
My leg is mostly healed. It's one of those things like swirling salt into a wound that reinforces the fact you're not a normal person and even healing a broken leg presents a few frustrating, admittedly painful setbacks for someone with seizures. But, thankfully, being fairly young and previously fit, I've managed to slog through to the lighter end of the tunnel and, save for some residual strangeness, and more twinges than pains, i can walk a fine mile or two without a stick, and bike around town, no problem.<br />
<br />
Wanna my sweet X-Rays?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-toCcpx7s3dM/W6_SYdEJfVI/AAAAAAAACJ4/et1s19_15JUsOPTEE_30UStCcteRxSAfACLcBGAs/s1600/20180417_183307.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-toCcpx7s3dM/W6_SYdEJfVI/AAAAAAAACJ4/et1s19_15JUsOPTEE_30UStCcteRxSAfACLcBGAs/s640/20180417_183307.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lines are the traction device. (It was not very effective, apparently.)<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zTbWIOaqows/W6_TmnMUV9I/AAAAAAAACKM/4eWx6TGgdq0xQh028tR5bb2RySIMCpY_wCLcBGAs/s1600/2wkXray2%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="813" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zTbWIOaqows/W6_TmnMUV9I/AAAAAAAACKM/4eWx6TGgdq0xQh028tR5bb2RySIMCpY_wCLcBGAs/s640/2wkXray2%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="324" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After surgery.<br />
(Dr. added pen marks to show callus formation process whatever)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ve68MVl9gN0/W6_S4U88XRI/AAAAAAAACJ8/xKty41JV4HAUtYKPkqc8u9EPvhoUZi2lwCLcBGAs/s1600/2wkXray.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="793" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ve68MVl9gN0/W6_S4U88XRI/AAAAAAAACJ8/xKty41JV4HAUtYKPkqc8u9EPvhoUZi2lwCLcBGAs/s640/2wkXray.jpg" width="316" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New leg! Said they used the longest rod they make.<br />
Thank God not having to wait for a longer one on special order!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I even got my shit gathered and packed for two week-long river trips this summer, both of which I planned and organized and went off mostly without a hitch, miraculously, save for the one in my literal giddy-up. The trips had been my carrot during my femur recovery process and they were both incredible weeks in some of the most treasured places, but while I'd expected to feel rejuvenated after, I've felt nothing but flat. Like I stepped out of the boat and fell back on my face and just stayed that way. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't really want to leave my house most days. Taking for granted a new leg, taking for granted any day that isn't FUBAR'ed by unseen and uncontrollable forces, but I'm depleted. Resigned. I feel so guilty for feeling so stuck, and letting it all pass by without due reverence, a heap of indolence, intentions and inaction. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My mom has been helping me pay for counseling. I hear it's a slow process, but I'm hopeful. So I'm trying to work on things. Maybe I can make good and start giving back all the life I've sucked from the planet. Do more good, give more for a change, and be less blah, and debilitated by defeat and fear and hopelessness. I have so much. I <i>know</i> how lucky I am. Most viscerally. How glad to have it all return when it comes reeling back.</div><div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>What is my fucking problem</i>?!</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-7076272367074366412018-09-27T17:30:00.008-07:002021-03-29T11:17:46.012-07:00Foof<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Life can be such a gut punch.<br />
<br />
My older cousin has had seizures for a while now. For one reason or another we weren't in direct communication at the time. I'd talked with my aunt in regard to things that had been helpful on my own seizure struggle bus ride.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, my aunt woke up with two sons. When she got home, she only had one. My cousin died from a seizure while he was alone at work.<br />
<br />
This is his 10 year old son.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LGG5CiqUgV0/W61zAgU04GI/AAAAAAAACIs/AwR-7wq46vE_o-laVE9yePHutV0gPZSZwCLcBGAs/s1600/Aiden.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="659" data-original-width="677" height="388" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LGG5CiqUgV0/W61zAgU04GI/AAAAAAAACIs/AwR-7wq46vE_o-laVE9yePHutV0gPZSZwCLcBGAs/s400/Aiden.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Dang. Some days it all seems so exhausting and miserably futile. Why bother when the gremlins are set to pull the rug out from your feet again and again? Can I just stay curled up down here forever? Send puppies and kittens. </div>
</div>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-67383098224767269882018-02-23T21:23:00.007-08:002021-04-14T14:06:49.255-07:00Now for my Next Trick...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-loY1YbkDxh0/WpD1cQ5gIAI/AAAAAAAACFM/rvg3pLTiSuclbuOpAnxGeZPhV6zlXp66gCLcBGAs/s1600/Fall_Carefully.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="535" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-loY1YbkDxh0/WpD1cQ5gIAI/AAAAAAAACFM/rvg3pLTiSuclbuOpAnxGeZPhV6zlXp66gCLcBGAs/s400/Fall_Carefully.png" width="373" /></a></div>
<br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">Geeze, what's up with this blog, guys? Got all the manure for the garden and forgot to plant the flowers. I really effed up this time. I feel like a dumbass. Too embarrassed to tell anyone outside my family yet, really.</span><br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">I broke my dang femur. Clean in two. It was doing something fun, for a change. (Which isn't to say i don't get to do plenty of fun things, but that I didn't get hurt having a seizure or doing something stupid.) Naturally, my insurance doesn't start until March 1st. </span><br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">I still can't believe it. But it could've been worse. It wasn't a compound fracture. It didn't cause significant vascular damage or subsequent life-threatening bleeding. My pain threshold has been knocked up a few notches. My hospital experience was night and day better than my last one. They got me into surgery right away for some intermedullary femur nailing zaniness. We've asked, but have yet to see any x-rays, but it sounds like the surgeon is going to take more in a couple of weeks when i go back. Do you want, or should i hold off on the gory details? </span><br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">Foof, dear reader; who does that? </span></div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-17246400920584199702018-02-11T16:25:00.000-08:002019-08-30T15:37:39.025-07:00Gram<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6WKGas0UeIw/Wn-GhnsMzAI/AAAAAAAACEo/HX06LeBq5xAEX1K67QbAHfpMbNMw-eZjgCLcBGAs/s1600/Gram.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6WKGas0UeIw/Wn-GhnsMzAI/AAAAAAAACEo/HX06LeBq5xAEX1K67QbAHfpMbNMw-eZjgCLcBGAs/s640/Gram.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gram age 80 Hiawatha Trail Idaho</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Oh Gram.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">How lucky for us to have spent such a sweet and relaxing Thanksgiving with you, just the four of us (mom, little sister and me). I still can't believe we ever relented in our objections to let you cook a goddam turkey, not to mention your taking charge of biscuits, gravy <i>and</i> mashed potatoes. It was amazing as always.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Watching <i>Lion</i> with you the next day, bundled in two adjacent mounds of blankets in your living room, tears creeping out and plunging down the spillways of our cheeks while the rest of the family made the seasonal retail bender, is a memory I'll always treasure. How grateful to you for enduring more of my inquiries about your trying childhood, and filling in random gaps of family history. I'm so glad to have asked when I did.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I should have known. When we got the text you'd broken your fetching <i>femur</i>, we should've raced up there right away. It seemed sensible postponing the voyage over winter roads until the light of morning. But the call came. (Of course it did.) We were too late. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My gram was spunky up until the end. She didn't languish. She would've hated that. She went out with Dilaudid on the hour. She was still living independently in her own home until the last day of her life, which, with any luck, was under a pleasant blanket of sedation.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My Gram was ornery, but mellowed with age (as with our mother). Her Fundamentalist Christian values and Fox News watching tendencies had toned down in recent years. She changed her own oil and executed basic repairs and matters of vehicular and home maintenance until she was 80. She was fastidiously clean to an obsessive-compulsive, even antiseptic extent, yet she took a loving to Olive, and often invited her beyond the barricaded section of </span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">linoleum</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> we'd dutifully ensconced her in during our visits.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zwmCSFo5pzM/Wn-GzvKRAjI/AAAAAAAACEs/gaLO5nTCa6IPFFpq7MgAsxXTNfyn61NuACLcBGAs/s1600/Pallbearers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zwmCSFo5pzM/Wn-GzvKRAjI/AAAAAAAACEs/gaLO5nTCa6IPFFpq7MgAsxXTNfyn61NuACLcBGAs/s640/Pallbearers.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jen and me pall-bearing with all our handsome cousins. I'm in the rear. Photo and caption credit to our aunt Tami</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">For all her fundamentalism, my gram was hep. She texted, she facebooked, she even Instagram'ed, i'm sure chiefly in to connect with </span><i style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">us</i><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">. Did I? Enough? Enough that my gram felt more loved than lonely? Probably not. I didn't visit or call on a sufficient basis. More shame I will carry. </span><br />
<div>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Is she watching me now, you think? Sipping hot tea up in the clouds and shaking her head as she looks down on my unkempt house, the paw prints, the dust and the piles. If she's thinking I'm lazy, she's right. I'm totally meh. Resigned. And shame on me. How acutely aware I am of the precious, ephemeral nature of all of this. How any sense and every second of fucking normalcy and every bit of fresh air and iota of autonomy is not to be taken for granted. Yet, here i am, just meh. Looking like it might take me all year to recover from one little swatch of last summer (physically, emotionally, financially...). </span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Anyhow, this is really belated. My Gram died before Christmas. I have loads to post, but my grandma's death, and general insecurities at my given stage in life have left me somewhat deflated. I'm always thinking about blogging. I think of you all often. Please forgive my heaps of outstanding comments. I'm always reading, but sometimes I'm a little late in my catching up. No need to drop any sorries or sentiments here, just had to acknowledge the passing of a sweet soul, you know?</span> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I still suck at life, at least the requisite adulting aspects. Looking forward to updating some more, but at this rate, no one be doin any breath holding in the meantime, okay? I'm a shit friend. I regret it. I intend to do better, always, and then i don't. The scritching and rancor of cognitive dissonance. Oy vey. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
</div>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Thank you for being here despite my sporadic correspondence. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Bowing to you in great deference and love. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Warm regards from Idaho,</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">me</span></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-80925956674782604952017-11-29T14:54:00.007-08:002021-03-28T15:39:15.488-07:00Bewildermint - an After Dinner Treat (pt. 6)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">Even though I still couldn't walk a straight line, I went back to work pretty much right away. There were times throughout the day i had such bad double vision, I couldn't read the words on my computer screen. (It could have been quintuple vision, but i'm not sure i could count to five at the time, so.) The drug levels fluctuate like less-than amusing carnival rides. At various points you could find me out in our gravel lot, sitting like a broken ballerina or a fallen clown, clutching one of the large, 55 gallon, garbage bins, head bowed inside and heaving. While I might look amazing in a tutu, I have no grace when it comes to them spins.</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">My sister and her wife, Tami, stayed with me. They live about 4 blocks away, so it wasn't a total hardship. (But still a pain, for sure.) I was a junk show. If falling down with seizures wasn't enough, when i stood up too fast</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">,</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">I passed right out.</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">I'm sure passing out is strange for </span><i style="color: #741b47;">everyone</i><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">, but it's a trip for me. A few of the times i've woken up, my legs were still bouncing. [Some people have convulsive-like movements when they pass out?] I've never been cognizant during an all-encompassing seizure, and i rarely remember waking up. It's bizarre laying there and self-assessing when you're still in some full-body paroxysm after all the times you've done so unaware. </span><i style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-size: large;">Maybe i've died during a seizure and now i'm conscious and leaving my body. But wait, i can still *feel* my arms and legs</span></i><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">... I broke glassware falling on my coffee table and also a full-length mirror. </span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">I also fell on account of the vertigo I was still experiencing from the drugs, like being stuck on a heinous carousel ride at warp speeds. When my higher nighttime dose peaked, I was so whacked, I'd fall from even a crawling position. I'd have to yell out to my poor, hyper-vigilant caretakers, "I'm fine, i'm fine, i'm fine!" Just crashing, no seizure.</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rNX1k1JHUKw/Wh8uFnWgHaI/AAAAAAAACCg/D9D0vvazSY4IbZNj4_f0QMb5-DQemQsRACLcBGAs/s1600/DSCN2789.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1120" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rNX1k1JHUKw/Wh8uFnWgHaI/AAAAAAAACCg/D9D0vvazSY4IbZNj4_f0QMb5-DQemQsRACLcBGAs/s640/DSCN2789.jpg" width="448" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Na 'Aina Kai Botanic Gardens Kauai</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"></span> <span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">Like i mentioned in a previous post, I'd been calling in to work from the hospital. People took it in good humor, thankfully, but I guess I was pretty loopy over the phone. (I have <i>no</i> recollection. I was shocked to learn i'd called in <i>most</i> of the days.) They knew somehow, i'd been Life-Flighted and I was pretty sure, despite the copious truth serums, I wouldn't have divulged that particular detail. (Though i've certainly said and done things on those drugs I <i>never</i> imagined.) EMT coworkers who may have known, are consummate professionals and, in my experience, unfailingly discreet. Sure enough, it was my dad who had called in and divulged all the gory details- <i>thanks Dad!</i> Gah, as if they weren't aware enough already on the work front. (I know it was well-intended, but seriously.)</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">I'd called in one morning and a coworker friend answered. I can't remember the story <i>exactly</i> as he told it, but basically I identified myself, confirmed who he was, and promptly hung up on him. I got transferred another morning into my manager's voicemail box. I said, "Hi [manager's name], i like your voicemail greeting. Bye." <click> Not even relating a shred as to the intended purpose of my call. Who knows what i liked about her voicemail.</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">One time, a number of years ago, I was benzo'ed and gonzo'ed in the ER and invited a bunch of hospital employees, cops and EMTs to a party at my house. Thankfully, someone clued me in, so i was aware of the event prior to everyone's arrival. It wasn't <i>totally</i> out-of-character; I enjoy get-togethers, but hosting larger affairs that include more acquaintances than close friends, is totally anxiety-provoking territory for me. </span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">At least 20 people came. Aside from my boyfriend-at-the-time ruining a strawberry-rhubarb pie filling, (having mistaken burdock in the yard for rhubarb), everything went without a hitch. Thankfully, burdock is totally edible, and while the pie might have tasted like shit, we didn't, even nearly, poison a good portion of the first-responder contingent of Moscow. My plant ID superpowers recogniz</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;">ed our blunder before the filling hit the shell, and we even had enough time to make another batch before the party.</span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">Anyhow, the entire town was a construction zone this past August. No exaggeration - there were street closures and blocked lanes that appeared all over without warning. I swear, they must have run out of signs! And given my level of intoxification, there was no way I was biking. On one hand, with all the roadwork, it seemed easier and safer walking places in any case (despite concomitant sidewalk closures). On the other, Olive the Wonder Dog's goodsent abilities allow for enough time to get home from practically anywhere in town by bicycle, but not necessarily enough time by foot.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tkUDduHwxoY/Wh8tACBZ8yI/AAAAAAAACCU/74WUwvBa3WsIaa6-rbfZjKfFnZx6GDf1ACLcBGAs/s1600/River_Grl.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tkUDduHwxoY/Wh8tACBZ8yI/AAAAAAAACCU/74WUwvBa3WsIaa6-rbfZjKfFnZx6GDf1ACLcBGAs/s640/River_Grl.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olive the Wonder Dog</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">I can't remember how many days into the work week I made it; It wasn't the first day back, at least. About midday, olive made it clear it was </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;">time to leave, or i'd be creating a scene. With her rate of walking, these days, odds were a snow flake in Hades we'd make it in time. I abandoned her and started booking home. </span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">Well, i <i>might</i> have made it, but with all the single lane nonsense, and mostly unregulated intersections, it took longer to navigate homeward. I made it to the highway junction, just two blocks short of my house. There was actually a flagger there. Even if she'd been able to usher me across expediently, by then, i didn't have a prayer. I was half off the curb when I timbered. My dome hit the asphalt, and not the curb or the concrete, so it was more superficial than it could've been. </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">I guess o</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">ne of the construction workers sat and held my head, while others called 911. This totally mungged up the major intersection even further. I can't imagine how many poor people were held up in their cars in the hot sun, bearing witness to the whole spectacle. </span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">I ate shit a few more times along that stretch in the subsequent days, but i've already written a novel here so i'll spare the details. My sister guys, in turn, were wary of allowing me to walk anywhere. (I love my commute!) I'm an introvert, which isn't to say i'm not gregarious at times, but i definitely re-energize in my alone moments. I was dejected. Thankfully, </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">as long as i was pushing my bike, </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">I could toddle almost anywhere wearing a helmet without relinquishing my last shards of pride. T</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">hat placated my people a little.</span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">More whackadoodle anecdotes to conclude the saga, but I suppose it will be left 'to be continued', yet again.</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">In the meantime, besos y abrazos to you, dear reader.</span></div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-53328911255416728752017-11-22T07:36:00.001-08:002020-12-23T15:18:53.679-08:00Out of Dodge [Still in the Brambles] (pt. 5)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Okay, going back to the tail end of July/early August. It seems so long ago, but I suppose I'm still reeling. </span><br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Shortly after swooping onto the scene, my mom emerged victorious in her rounds with <a href="https://allisonimacaroni.blogspot.com/2017/09/breaking-free-and-bewildered.html" target="_blank">Dr. Bugpoop and co.</a>, thus freeing me from the hospital confines. She waited before driving home so she could accompany me to an appointment with my primary care doctor the next day. </span><br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;">It's an hour and a half home and I don't remember any specific details from the trip.</span><br />
<div>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;">I was a little bit less on the swerve by my appointment time the next day. I remember most of the dialog. At the end, my physician turned to my mom and said, "Yeah, I just lost a 26 year old with epilepsy in my practice. She died in her home a few months ago." As if our time in the ICU and a life flight helicopter ride hadn't already conveyed the gravity of the situation. Thanks for putting my poor mother at ease, doc!</span></div>
<div>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br />
Well, not as much progress as i'd hoped, but some. To be continued, (yet again).</span><br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;">May your Wednesday be wondrous. </span><br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Love and kindness from Moscow.</span></div>
</div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-49724411445310255002017-11-18T22:55:00.001-08:002017-11-30T22:38:14.859-08:00Getting There<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/160694078" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="640"></iframe> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://vimeo.com/160694078">How We Get There</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/user43724639">Allison Jackson</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is a video from one of our commutes home last spring. For Christmas we upgraded Olive's rickshaw, so she has a full, legit cart with a cover now, and doesn't have to take mud and grime in the face, flung from the back tire. It's a boring video (although, <i>I'm </i>partial to the lead character), and forgive the squeaky breaks and lack of editing etc. It sets the stage for some eating-of-shit I did along that section of highway the weeks following my hospital stint this past summer. (Setting the stage - mark my words, the post is going to happen.)</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oDfojufGvlY/WhEfqd6CUiI/AAAAAAAAB-8/wNlk1pCpgNEyw9bhBS_Ow4uKdNqkRqzbACLcBGAs/s1600/Bike2Wrk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oDfojufGvlY/WhEfqd6CUiI/AAAAAAAAB-8/wNlk1pCpgNEyw9bhBS_Ow4uKdNqkRqzbACLcBGAs/s640/Bike2Wrk.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So that's how we roll, except there's a new little dog bounding along beside us now. As of today, i'd say it's going pretty well:</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6L9dY-AFXw8/WhEo8-lr72I/AAAAAAAAB_c/ZRglsPiDxEcpZNfqic8HlpL7SYOaHYomgCLcBGAs/s1600/2017-11-18%2B22.44.29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="965" data-original-width="1600" height="385" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6L9dY-AFXw8/WhEo8-lr72I/AAAAAAAAB_c/ZRglsPiDxEcpZNfqic8HlpL7SYOaHYomgCLcBGAs/s640/2017-11-18%2B22.44.29.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hope all is well with you. </span><br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-33844270580794098972017-11-16T22:43:00.000-08:002017-11-21T02:26:55.851-08:00Winterfall<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pHvVhxwT2YQ/Wg5YV4ydbuI/AAAAAAAAB9M/hhBekfUHXKEVquJ9s4LfhwGlzagPCeFAgCLcBGAs/s1600/DSCN2791.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pHvVhxwT2YQ/Wg5YV4ydbuI/AAAAAAAAB9M/hhBekfUHXKEVquJ9s4LfhwGlzagPCeFAgCLcBGAs/s640/DSCN2791.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Dancing lady ginger, <i>Globba winitii </i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Na 'Āina Kai Kauai</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Lord, y'all. I suck. The most productive thing I've accomplished all month, probably, was donating blood yesterday. Back in my swimming days I was an amazing donor. Now my veins are kind of shot (thanks, likely, to the understood <a href="https://infusionnurse.org/2010/09/21/vesicants-not-just-chemo-agents/">vesicant nature of both phenytoin and diazepam</a>), but generally after a prod or two they can get er done. I used to be deferred fairly often for low iron, but a phlebotomist tipped me off to eating cream-of-wheat the night before, some years ago, and I haven't been staved off for anemia since. <br /><br /> The blood folks reach out to me regularly since I'm O+ (reminder to self- see, something in me is positive right now!) and despite that pesky Rh factor, they seem to quite enjoy the 'O' types. So, I'd agreed to a set appointment time the day before. Until then my hair had been in a singular, twisted dreadlock for a week or two. It's cold and dark here already - easy to get away with knotting in a bun and putting on a hat, so that's been the extent of my beauty routine. I didn't want to interface with any healthcare professional without washing and brushing my hair though, so la-dee-dah, I can rake a comb through the individual strands of mane now.<br /><br /> I got back about a week ago from a fairly spontaneous trip home (if a haole girl can call it home?) to Kauai where I was fortunate enough, once-upon-a-time, to <strike>attend</strike> be enrolled in high school (and graduate, somehow), and where my amazing dad and my antithesis-of-evil stepmother live. Things had leveled out fairly well seizure-wise prior to embarking on the trip, but I was still kind of meh, even after all these months since my <a href="https://allisonimacaroni.blogspot.com/2017/08/bewildered-bewildered-you-have-no.html%20Done" target="_blank">ICU clusterflock</a>. Also, my shoulder has been separated since August, so I knew i'd be somewhat less activity-equipped. I hoped that regardless, the warm weather, sunshine and family fix would be beneficial, nonetheless. It was, but may have done more to bring to light, rather than dry up, some bits of sadness, and seizures, and shit, which I guess could be a whole post of its own, if i ever get to it.<br /><br /> So, leave it to me to complain about a trip to Hawaii. I still haven't drummed up much on the work front. I did get a few killer offers while on island, which feels great, but realistically... I don't know. I don't know anything. I'd still love to finish telling you about how whacked things turned out to be the weeks following my jailbreak from the hospital, but it's still kind of a muddled smudge of memories and basically petulant drivel.<br /><br /> I did, however, get a new dog. Sheesh. My sister arranged it all. I was, of course, reluctant once it all came to light. We knew we wanted some overlap with Olive, so she can be a positive influence. She came from the humane society down in Boise, and had been identified as a smart girl with service dog potential. She is very smart, but as i expressed to my sister early on, I need a <i>good </i>dog; not necessarily the smartest dog. Ha. Poor Jen (my sister). There will never be another Olive. We both expected a mellower new pupper, though, she's only just a year now. She listens *great*, but she's a handful (zoomies for daaaaaaaaaays). She's a retriever mix of sorts; we think maybe some whippet as she's fairly slight and made to run, but could be springer, setter or saluki for all I know. She's 43 pounds and they don't expect her to get much bigger, which is great by me.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lsW6Teln5O8/Wg5rn_iRYRI/AAAAAAAAB9o/lJivdngGlEkN6-a-rG7o6eWyUfO88hgmwCLcBGAs/s1600/20171112_110512.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lsW6Teln5O8/Wg5rn_iRYRI/AAAAAAAAB9o/lJivdngGlEkN6-a-rG7o6eWyUfO88hgmwCLcBGAs/s640/20171112_110512.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New dog, Tater</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I wish I could say i've been getting up with her every day (as she deserves) and jogging a few miles these nice winter/fall mornings, and making the most of my unemployment time, but with the exception of a day or two, of actually fucking rallying, i mostly haven't even got my ass dragged out the door until after noon. I'm depressed. The dogs are good sports about it though, thank goodness. I'm not totally debilitated and do get them out every day eventually. I've been going to counseling. I really don't want to take any other medications on top of the seizure drugs, especially since I'm still stuck right now at the higher doses, and they're plenty mood-altering. I don't really know what else to do. I know I probably need to get more connected and engaged or something, but for me that shit (commitment in general?) can also be stressful and daunting. (Is that a cop-out? Yes. Am I a schmuck? Totally.) Right now i'm feeling anything but brave.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /> I meet up with my sister and/or friends every now and then, but mostly my days consist of venturing to the grocery store when we run out of one or more of the basics and hitting the trail or a park in between. One of my main concerns was the logistics of getting anywhere with two dogs, but Tater has taken great to running alongside the bike while Olive rides in the cart. She seems to do fine waiting patiently at the racks until the old trusty doggo and I have wrapped up the shopping. Not sure how it's all going to work out in the end, but it's been fairly entertaining in the meantime. Oh, and she is very sweet.<br /><br /> Forgive my absence again. I guess I'm loathe to come and merely complain, but then again, when things are great, I sort of hate to come and gloat about that too. An ungrateful curmudgeon of sorts, I suppose. <br /><br /> Thank you for you. I've been reading and loving you as a fly-on-the-wall from both Idaho and Hawaii, but have dropped the ball in the comments. I over-think everything and words are hard sometimes. Your pictures and stories and tirades are sustenance, though, in these aimless, lonely days. <br /><br /> Love and gratitude from cold and dark North Idaho.</span></div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-10426853008914717742017-09-19T21:22:00.000-07:002017-11-18T01:13:42.778-08:00Oh Lord (will you ever, ever have a plan for me?)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I love Prairie Home Companion. I missed this episode a few months ago, but fitting for the day, it popped up on my Facebook feedamajig. Josh Ritter is from this little town I've grown to think of as home. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Hbx9pY3dUpg/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="296" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Hbx9pY3dUpg?feature=player_embedded" width="420"></iframe></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sometimes I wish I could curl up inside a speaker box and just let the bass notes and crescendos reverberate through and around me like blankets. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Josh Ritter could sing me to sleep, or strum me back together.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple;"><br />
</span><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/5vb6XfE2GLo/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="296" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/5vb6XfE2GLo?feature=player_embedded" width="420"></iframe></span></div></div>Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-36867384539221824922017-09-19T13:06:00.001-07:002017-11-18T01:16:45.672-08:00Dinglehopper? Snarfblat?... In any case, thanks for all the fish...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jNor8SjVUVs/WcF3BYLCQPI/AAAAAAAAB6w/_JFT8AClLNE-QAdo-JnBbgTBAWq100FvwCLcBGAs/s1600/Scuttle.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jNor8SjVUVs/WcF3BYLCQPI/AAAAAAAAB6w/_JFT8AClLNE-QAdo-JnBbgTBAWq100FvwCLcBGAs/s640/Scuttle.jpg" width="456" /></a></div>
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />Well, you were all with me for the beginning, and, well, here, I'm happy and sad, not to mention, terrified, relieved, resolved, reeling, yet resolute, in my reporting an arrival at the end.</span><div>
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />In some state, still, of disbelief, i'm crying while laughing, and trembling a bit with uncertainty, as i pass along my tiara. I'm no longer the Queen of Broken Things. Yesterday I quit my job. I'm burned out on life lately, but I've been burned out at work for a year or two, at least. After attempting to effectuate change in my department for so long, it's become clear that the company and I have very different values. <br /><br />I meant to stay a few more months until I was 'fully-vested', but i couldn't take it any longer. My patience has been dozered down to nothing these days. I am not a very good automaton. Sometimes stopping in life to scrape a turd off your shoe, gives you too much time for re-evaluation and introspection. I've had a few turds to scrape off recently. I'd far and away rather have a job that inspires me intrinsically than one that pays higher wages.<br /><br />Haven't told my sister or my mom. <br /><br />So much for my half-crocked plan to have a solid lead or two on some job prospects before throwing the towel in. Maybe it was ill-timed, ill-conceived and rash. The frontal lobe regions of our brains are correlated with matters of judgement - mine may compromised. Oh fucking well.<br /><br />I really don't know guys.<br /><br /><i>But</i>, I'll have a lot more time for blogging, and i still have more of that confounded story yet to tell. Foof. <br /><br />Thank you for being here.<br /><br />Thank you for being.<br /><br /> Alli</span></div>
</div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-51770248507457391902017-09-07T09:45:00.006-07:002020-12-24T11:25:38.423-08:00Befuddled and Breaking Free (pt. 4)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9YQ378gBq7g/WbFA7Sd8sZI/AAAAAAAAB5w/C5OMHRc6E94I3COzT7je1sg8GE00ehnJQCEwYBhgL/s1600/20170902_191719%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1188" data-original-width="1600" height="473" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9YQ378gBq7g/WbFA7Sd8sZI/AAAAAAAAB5w/C5OMHRc6E94I3COzT7je1sg8GE00ehnJQCEwYBhgL/s640/20170902_191719%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The big pink thing on the horizon is the sun</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;">The only doctor I remember that week, (save for a flash of a dark-complected, black-haired, female), was a neurologist far younger than your typical Neurosaurs, but a serious dweeb-and-a-half. We thought he was making a feeble attempt at drollery when my sister mentioned something about organic and he quipped, "Oh, organic? So you'd rather be eating bug poop? Because you can't have bugs on your plants without bug poop..." We har-har-ed for a second, until we realized he was serious. Between glyphosate, 2-4-D and the litany of other endocrine disruptors and known carcinogens, I'd rather eat straight bug poop out of a squeeze tube, but whatever dude. <br /><br /> Somehow my old-as medical records were still in their system, and they're still consulting with a specialist I haven't been to in <i>years</i>. Gah. Shouldn't the advent of electronic medical records clue them in on this? They were precious and denigrated me in all means of censure and condescension in regard to the fact that last time I'd been seen by that provider, i'd been prescribed <i>two</i> drugs, at higher doses than I was currently taking. (Never mind i'd had some of the worst seizure control under their careful watch...) So, in the matter of a day or two, they ramped up those meds. One that i was still on was doubled, and the second (Vimpat/lacosamide), went from zero to the highest recommended dose.(?!) Plus, i was still being thoroughly and utterly benzofied. Holy crap, Batman. The hospital room was orbiting around me so fast, if i had spurs on, theyd've sparklered like the 4th of July and set the sheets and curtains on fire. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--zrsz_N2QAQ/WbFK1Dp0pOI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/hob961ihSKExTeTr9Y9jvWcZP6knh_k_ACEwYBhgL/s1600/20170903_185356%2B%25281%2529%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="741" data-original-width="1600" height="296" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--zrsz_N2QAQ/WbFK1Dp0pOI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/hob961ihSKExTeTr9Y9jvWcZP6knh_k_ACEwYBhgL/s640/20170903_185356%2B%25281%2529%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset breaking through Labor Day haze</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Both of the drugs give me insomnia for a week or so after increasing the dose. The Vimpat makes me dizzy and the lamotrigine gives me strange vertigo. It feels like drunk spinning, but focusing your eyes is more difficult. They feel like they're darting rapidly, left to right in their orbits. When you try to sit or lay still, it feels like your body is swaying side to side like your eyes, but almost imperceptibly like a shy, yet speedy metronome. (Or maybe that's how drunk spinning feels and i've just forgotten?) All night I spun and spun. So even if i could make pretend i was napping on a 90 degree beach somewhere, sleep was not the fortune in my cookie. Self-pity and exhaustion overwhelmed me sporadically, welling up as a hot, heavy weight in my chest and seeping out in tears and contorting my face in miserable anger. The waves of emotion did nothing to mask or quash the spinning or the nausea, they just added different salty to the sleep-deprived shit sandie.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LV7cE1R7zwo/WbFA8YyaiOI/AAAAAAAAB58/RozzLKsapW40fcTAGrlRoSaZIm3KIU90gCEwYBhgL/s1600/20170906_181153%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1108" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LV7cE1R7zwo/WbFA8YyaiOI/AAAAAAAAB58/RozzLKsapW40fcTAGrlRoSaZIm3KIU90gCEwYBhgL/s640/20170906_181153%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="442" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No-filter Sepia view from the same place last week</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;">To all of our chagrin, i was still having seizures, only one or two a day, but some, nonetheless. I don't really remember much of anything about them. Except one. It sounds foolish in telling, but in my bleary, depleted state, it was traumatizing.</span><br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br />There were bed alarms. I don't remember attempting to disembark from my white, padded, battleship, but i do remember bed alarms. And, whether it matters or not, i don't believe i was ever balled up weird at the head or foot of the bed. With the world spinning, curling up and laying on my side was a less-than-preferable position. I laid mostly on my stomach, hands clawed into the sheets and alternating bent knees in hopes one might finally anchor me into the ground, or prop me stable like a kickstand. Anyhow, I woke up with my body hanging down off the bed and my face on the cold floor, within a short reach of the back wall. (I tend to go back and to the right when i have seizures.) I remember waking up and feeling the mess of cords and wires. I couldn't move myself backward onto the bed, or pull myself farther forward. I was wedged between the rounded corners of the top and side rails. Blood was rushing and pooling in my head. I don't know if it was panic or the way my body was jammed, but breathing was more terrible effort than easy. There was blood around my face. I couldn't figure out if i'd hurt myself on the way down there or if it was coming from my mouth. I remember thinking nobody would find me until after i'd passed out. <i>Where are your bed alarms now</i>?!<br /><br /> Welp, I guess they found me, and it was at least some time before morning, but i don't remember many specifics after that. Either that day, or the day after, my mom came and kicked ass and took some names. (She's been working in the healthcare realm for the past 30 some-odd years.) And not so much in regard to that incident, but had the power of persuasion over Dr. Bug Poop and Co. to get me out of there. So we got all the discharge paperwork, and after a full week, that i mostly don't remember, I finally got to go home.<br /><br /> And I wish the saga ended there... </span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XWN0KSAMpcw/WbFA7NDFnCI/AAAAAAAAB58/_j-RJnBqFuMWEdqDEhMIGvJk2Efj0BL1gCEwYBhgL/s1600/20170903_185730%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1465" data-original-width="1166" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XWN0KSAMpcw/WbFA7NDFnCI/AAAAAAAAB58/_j-RJnBqFuMWEdqDEhMIGvJk2Efj0BL1gCEwYBhgL/s400/20170903_185730%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="315" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif"><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Hat's off to all of you. </span><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Stay safe and dry, and free of smoke and fires.</span></span><br />
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif" style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Love and all it's verses,</span></span><br />
<span face="Trebuchet MS, sans-serif"><br />
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Alli</span></span><br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-37308974188229089132017-08-30T16:16:00.004-07:002020-12-25T07:24:19.049-08:00Still Bewildered (pt. 3)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iC03RpBCjG8/WadFV_2ojAI/AAAAAAAAB5E/YO9mmnqMPWYQk2Ubpw-TvF6pMbdATW5UgCLcBGAs/s1600/Sunset_Arboretum2.jpg" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iC03RpBCjG8/WadFV_2ojAI/AAAAAAAAB5E/YO9mmnqMPWYQk2Ubpw-TvF6pMbdATW5UgCLcBGAs/s640/Sunset_Arboretum2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smoke haze sunsets of late</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
So, back to the saga... I was teleported, (rolled? pneumatic shoot-ed? toddled? - don't remember that part), out of the Neuro ICU, up to the Neuro floor, where, as I </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">mentioned before, was 85 G-forsaken degrees, at least. Granted <i>nobody</i> sleeps in hospitals, but that guaran-dang-teed i would not be sleeping. </span></div>
<div class="gmail_default" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Every day they said, 'We'll let you out tomorrow.', but tomorrow they said the same thing. I was having seizures, but to my knowledge none </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">of them were particularly prolonged or severe. (This is not to suggest they weren't still pushing lorazepam or whater by the tranquilizer gun-full.)</span></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Oh, and less-than-titillating, but, i feel it important to mention - I've never gone all the way off one of </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">the pharmaceutical drugs (lamotrigine), but i was on a lower end of the 'therapeutic range' deemed effective for seizures. (There was <a data-ytta-id="-" href="http://www.epilepsybehavior.com/article/S1525-5050(16)30466-8/fulltext" style="color: #1155cc;">a study</a> </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">released this year that validated my experience - '<i>The best response to AEDs used in monotherapy was observed at low dosage.</i>' (This study was specific to refractory epilepsy.) Boom. Case in point.</span></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My lamotrigine level was found to be normal. Turns out it </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">actually worked <i>against</i> me, I later found out from my rockstar nurse/friend mentioned <a data-ytta-id="-" href="https://allisonimacaroni.blogspot.com/2016/02/quite-possibly-biggest-wtf-moment-in-my.html" style="color: #1155cc;">previously</a>, in making the decision to fly me Spokane. Which is to say, </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">if the levels were low, they could cite <i>that</i> as the cause of the seizures. Presumably, they could have kept me </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">there and worked on getting the lamotrigine up instead of opting right away for the ol' heave ho.</span></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anyshnitzel, back to the Neuro floor, (is that capitalized i dunno - Hell is, so we'll go with it.) It's pretty fuzzy - wish i remembered </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">more. I don't remember any of the food aside from ordering coffee one morning and wondering if i'd be allowed to have it. (They brought it, and </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">whatever the coffee-like substance, it was better than some tepid, brown, stomach-stripping agents sold at some gas stations.) I was very grateful for it.</span></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My sister was able to bring Olive in during the day. Tami, my sister's wife, brought me a small fan. Oh, land, and they brought me my cell phone. </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">(I need standing orders for them to prohibit access to any and all technology while in hospital custody.) I was texting people at o'-dark thirty</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> - nonsensical gibberish, <i>calling in to work</i> (Hay-suess Crisco). Thank goodness I am <i>not</i> a shopper. </span></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">(Again, I digress...) May have already told this story, but </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">one time I was stuck in our local ICU for something upwards of a week and tethered to a hospital bed. Again the details were/are </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">few-and-far-between. That time, someone thought it would be a good idea to bring me my laptop. I remember begging the hospitalist to let me out of </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">bed. I will </span><i style="color: purple; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">crawl,</i><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> I pleaded, <i>inch my way like a caterpillar</i>, <i>human-egg roll around</i>, *</span><i style="color: purple; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">anything*</i><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> outside the confines of the head, foot and </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">siderails. (No dice.) I recall feeling desperate about that. It was two or three weeks after my release, I found hospital floor plans downloaded onto my computer</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">. Where do you even find something like that on the internet, guys? All I can surmise is a escape plan was being </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">formulated somewhere inside my snowy, snowy, stir-crazy brain...</span></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anyway, the Sacred Heart neuro floor </span></span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">was hot and even noisier than most hospitals. I could hear kids. At times it sounded like a slumber party and foot </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">races in the hallway. Or maybe I was simply delirious dreaming the sounds of them.</span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I don't think i remember any of the seizures i had during the day. I know my </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">tongue and mouth were pretty thrashed. Freaking </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">sharp, aching, constant oral pain.</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> I'd have gladly done myself in with a massive overdose of benzocaine.</span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ah, shoots, did I even make any progress here? I got carried away away on the tangent train. </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">(to be cont'd)</span></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
</span></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Here's some more pictures of our recent smoke-enhanced sunsets: </span></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-align: center;">
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #351c75; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; padding: 6px; text-align: center; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bw6rZPY_RRw/WadFVm1YTDI/AAAAAAAAB48/ZvyZ3woqKB0-mFgV_YASHlEQJu3AclyrACLcBGAs/s1600/Sunset_Arboretum.jpg" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1090" data-original-width="1600" height="435" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bw6rZPY_RRw/WadFVm1YTDI/AAAAAAAAB48/ZvyZ3woqKB0-mFgV_YASHlEQJu3AclyrACLcBGAs/s640/Sunset_Arboretum.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Just down the road from work</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HOLQkcXhpbI/WadFWBSw9JI/AAAAAAAAB5I/pXP050utgOMw1iI-X4dfziJ7j5psB80TQCLcBGAs/s1600/Sunset_Otown.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1040" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HOLQkcXhpbI/WadFWBSw9JI/AAAAAAAAB5I/pXP050utgOMw1iI-X4dfziJ7j5psB80TQCLcBGAs/s640/Sunset_Otown.jpg" width="412" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">And the obligatory Olive photo<br />
<div>
<br />
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y56CucmWqnE/WadFV50hPSI/AAAAAAAAB5A/RMJRknSWJBwJYFBXAz9Uqjqt_cMzLAwSQCLcBGAs/s1600/Sunset_ArboretumTres.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="956" data-original-width="1600" height="380" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y56CucmWqnE/WadFV50hPSI/AAAAAAAAB5A/RMJRknSWJBwJYFBXAz9Uqjqt_cMzLAwSQCLcBGAs/s640/Sunset_ArboretumTres.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman";">
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Have a sweet, sweet day,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span> <span style="background-color: white; color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Alli</span></div>
</div>
</div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-12123388368350632462017-08-26T11:06:00.000-07:002017-08-27T20:58:12.681-07:00Salt Mine Saturday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Oh mans, it's a rare weekend shift i get to pull today. God they're awful. We're short-staffed and for some reason, the crazies and shit bags seem to float to the surface on weekends. (Gah, all i've done is complain here as of late. Great success.) </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One funny/terrible thing that happened this week working in the returns and warranties department involved one of our newest employees, and, naturally, myself. She came out to our returns area which is just outside the call center/sales floor, in the adjoining warehouse.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We sell inflatable SUP boards. There are teensie, tiny, little bumps that sometimes appear in the material where you fold the board. They're absolutely, purely cosmetic and barely perceptible, at that. Like goose bumps on a new born baby. Like braille...</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Well, this newer employee was fielding the question as to whether the customer should be concerned about said bumps. I responded quickly with, "Those are the braille instructions for how to get back on, when you fall off your board."</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Now here <i>I</i> thought it was infinitely obvious i was being facetious. Lord help me if she did not forward that response on to the customer. Oh bang myself in the forehead with my open palm, any open hand for that matter. Suffice it to say, the customer was none-too-pleased with our response. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And of course she was! It wasn't even limited to jocular, it was insensitive. (Although, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if there are a number of blind SUP'ers out there.) Have you all read <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/No-Barriers-Blind-Journey-Canyon/dp/125008878X" target="_blank">No Barriers</a> </i>by Erik Weihenmayer? He's the Everest climber who's also killing it in the whitewater kayaking realm. Blows my mind! The book might be available in your local Overdrive library. (One of my favorite things my mom told me about last year. Thanks Mom!) Do you guys know about Overdrive? See if you have it in your area, all you need is a library card to access all sorts of audio and e-books. You can even download them onto whatever, whatever device and listen even if you're out in the toolies without any G's or what have you.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So, my point is, I regret the joke for more than one reason. I can't assert if somebody razzed me similarly about the foam deck being beneficial for SUP'ers with seizures or something, that I would always take it in good humor. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I'm a sarcastic asshole. Drat. (But it was pretty funny.) </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Wishing for rain here too. If only we could have prayed it our way and spared Texas some of the devastation. (Spent many a spring break in Corpus Christi with my step-dad's family.) What a mess, and more rain to come. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Here are two songs about wishing for rain (just not for Texas), I enjoy:</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Not a huge country fan, but i was raised on Nancy Griffith...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/RGM8-wiQ1HM/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="300" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RGM8-wiQ1HM?feature=player_embedded" width="420"></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And who can forget the Temptations?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Z-es4Q8AJaU/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="300" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Z-es4Q8AJaU?feature=player_embedded" width="420"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Peace and Love by the bushelton,</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Ajax</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-45936824870248125302017-08-23T07:32:00.002-07:002020-12-25T01:17:04.716-08:00Bewildered (Part Dos)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">Yes, I've been less-than-happy waking up with a catheter of the non-IV variety. (You can't win with me.) But, while invasive, and certainly not my preference over 'neither of the above', </span><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">(see the end of <a href="https://allisonimacaroni.blogspot.com/2017/08/bewildered-bewildered-you-have-no.html" target="_blank">Bewildered pt. 1</a>)</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">, it doesn't suggest negligence. I did a stint at this hospital a couple of years ago. I intended to post about it, but it was sort of traumatic and I swore to myself, I was<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span><i style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">never</span> </i><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">going back. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Pardon while I hold the phone for a moment here and hip skizzle to a couple of points I could've/should've included earlier. Was there a precipitating event? Not really. Part of me <i>wishes</i> I'd smoked an ounce of meth or something so as to have something, anything to implicate. My best guess is that I'd reduced my CBD</span><span style="color: purple; font-size: x-large;"> intake slightly for financial reasons several weeks prior. It seemed a fairly trivial amount, but fat soluble substances could take that long to fluctuate significantly, theoretically (?)...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Also, there's my new boat. I did get her out on the water a time or two before the rug was pulled, but gah. Isn't she pretty? A veritable surf machine!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--SxPhxUuRIc/WZ06z4XIWDI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/TK-RDyci5Dsj5W1OqNf_EZsYFZA0qu_3wCLcBGAs/s1600/20170725_234642.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--SxPhxUuRIc/WZ06z4XIWDI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/TK-RDyci5Dsj5W1OqNf_EZsYFZA0qu_3wCLcBGAs/s640/20170725_234642.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">It's all a bit unnerving. I woke up in the Neuro ICU tethered to the EEG machine. The one at this hospital, as I've experienced before, has about a 2 foot lead (and I may be being generous here). This day and age there are ambulatory EEGs. This shit should be Wi-Fi. At the very least, couldn't they spare an extra length of bleeping wire?! I don't much care to watch the video, but I'm curious how all the electrodes weren't pulled off when I did do the seizure thing. Maybe they can wheel the machine around whichever way you tend to go? I dunno. Whatever.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">Oh, and apparently my family, (grandma, uncle and cousin [2 cousins?] came to visit on, what I hear, was more than one occasion. Egad. My kind, fun-loving, gorgeous aunt would've been there, but we lost her this year to the ruthless, bloody talons of breast cancer. Not long before, my grandfather died unexpectedly. A</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"> month or so prior to that</span><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">, my river mentor had a fairly catastrophic stroke. Additionally, recently I went to our HR guy (a CPA) and quit in a final fit of exasperation. (Might elaborate on the full story...) We went toe-to-toe for one or two hours wherein, he talked me into staying. So, speaking of triggers. I guess there are a few intangible ones, at least.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">If </span><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">you told me my family had visited, I'd been on a helicopter ride, and had a bunch of seizures, </span><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">i'd fight you on the Bible it wasn't true. </span><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">I'd</span><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"> been interacting with the world for days in various controlled hospital settings, blackout snowed on benzos and didn't, still don't, remember a second.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">I wasn't permitted to leave the confines of the bed, much less sit up comfortably. All matters of toileting were accomplished with a bed pan There wasn't even enough slack in the wires for grabbing knees, rocking back and forth and weeping softly. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">And what the fetch are they even testing for? Were they not entirely convinced of said seizure activity? I'd already been through the gamut of testing at this very institution only to be ruled out for a second time as a surgical candidate. But, yes, lo and behold, this time, as with the last, there was documented evidence that my tongue-biting, pants wetting, and general thrashing about was <i>indeed</i> attributable to electrical abnormalities in my brain. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">So, I had a few seizures up in the purple-walled unit. At some point they finally gave me a bag for my shorts and liberated me from the vexatious tether and tentacles and ever-present eyes of the EEG machine. The seizures were only 2-3 minutes and relatively far between, so finally they moved me out of the ICU and down (up?) to the Neuro floor. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">It was the 8th or 9th story. The view was great, but day and night the room was about 85 degrees (29.4 C). It was miserable. The nurses were all, 'Oh, yeah, it's like this.' (WTF?) Don't know about you all, but my optimal sleeping temperature is well below 85 degrees. Thank God for that soft, delectable ice one nurse would retrieve for me by the mini pitcher. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">So concludes my second installation of wtf-ery. Thanks for making it through my not-so-succinct self-centric blubbering.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Mucho appreciado y amor.</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">Signed,</span></span><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">Bewildered</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4697939792620679837.post-58189417685154235262017-08-21T19:30:00.000-07:002017-08-21T19:30:01.283-07:00HaBanot Nechama - Ever<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/KI3owhqi6Tw/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KI3owhqi6Tw?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"> ...or am I losing it all?</span></div>
<br /></div>
Ajaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272210468592329126noreply@blogger.com0