sometimes i feel like i need to barf up or slough off the bad energy i've been around.
that sounds totally CA woo-woo, but let me give you an example: spending time with an extremely dysfuntctional family who are fighting while a young woman is getting brain surgery. for tumors.
so, yeah, i wish i could rinse away the residue of that
Positive Aspect: Cousin made in thru surgery, initial stuff looks good. Hopefully she is on road to recovery.
And with that, off to watch season premiere of Walking Dead.
I'm pretty sure that if they deface my boo, I will be done with the show for life. I got enough stress without worrying about Rickle Pickle all the time. He's my totem animal. I need him to be okay.
PS---SFO to LAX, by ground, in 5.5 hours. Personal best of my N-S trips lately. And I didn't even leave until 12:22 pm. Basically I folded space time.
Showing posts with label C is for Cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label C is for Cancer. Show all posts
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Monday, June 22, 2015
If I Clean Your House, Please Don't Take Offense
For a few reasons:
1. It comes from a place of love. I can't cook, knit, sew, or build anything to contribute to the group. But cleaning is a skill you can learn, and when I put my mind to it I can clean pretty well. So that's what I can contribute to the cause. I do it to help out, not because I think you are dirty. I do it to give you one less thing to worry about. I do it for that great feeling of getting something done that you didn't have to do yourself. I do it to brighten your environment in a way you didn't expect.
It's all I can contribute. Please allow me.
2. For a little while, I get to distract myself from whatever is going on. It's usually when I'm alone, I pop in some headphones and go to town. Meditatioin.
3. My out of shape ass makes it an aerobic exercise. It's good for me. That's built in stress relief while achieving a measurable goal: mentally and physically healthy.
I'm not saying I do a perfect job. But I try to cover whatever I think is important for you. And I try to stay out of your personal stuff.
1. It comes from a place of love. I can't cook, knit, sew, or build anything to contribute to the group. But cleaning is a skill you can learn, and when I put my mind to it I can clean pretty well. So that's what I can contribute to the cause. I do it to help out, not because I think you are dirty. I do it to give you one less thing to worry about. I do it for that great feeling of getting something done that you didn't have to do yourself. I do it to brighten your environment in a way you didn't expect.
It's all I can contribute. Please allow me.
2. For a little while, I get to distract myself from whatever is going on. It's usually when I'm alone, I pop in some headphones and go to town. Meditatioin.
3. My out of shape ass makes it an aerobic exercise. It's good for me. That's built in stress relief while achieving a measurable goal: mentally and physically healthy.
I'm not saying I do a perfect job. But I try to cover whatever I think is important for you. And I try to stay out of your personal stuff.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Ah Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha
Guess who got four notices in the mail today?
Guess what those notices said about Medi-Cal approval?
Guess how many different $ amounts they cited as my income?
1. Me!
2. I am totally approved for Medi-Cal! Four separate times!
3. Three different income amounts! There were two in each envelope, and they all contradicted each other!
That's right, after a cold hearted refusal of services post approval of services, we have a late game reversal of the reversal!
Not only do I qualify for coverage again, I qualify under three different income amounts. I QUALIFY FOR MEDI-CAL THREE SEPARATE WAYS (SO HARD, SO BAD, AND WICKED HARD).
How did they get these amounts? Who fucking knows? I'm pretty confident that no matter what, this still isn't going to work out for me.
Hilarious. Tragic and ultimately foreboding about humanity's chances for long term survival, but hilarious.
Guess what those notices said about Medi-Cal approval?
Guess how many different $ amounts they cited as my income?
1. Me!
2. I am totally approved for Medi-Cal! Four separate times!
3. Three different income amounts! There were two in each envelope, and they all contradicted each other!
That's right, after a cold hearted refusal of services post approval of services, we have a late game reversal of the reversal!
Not only do I qualify for coverage again, I qualify under three different income amounts. I QUALIFY FOR MEDI-CAL THREE SEPARATE WAYS (SO HARD, SO BAD, AND WICKED HARD).
How did they get these amounts? Who fucking knows? I'm pretty confident that no matter what, this still isn't going to work out for me.
Hilarious. Tragic and ultimately foreboding about humanity's chances for long term survival, but hilarious.
 |
| Schrödinger's Health Coverage. |
Monday, September 29, 2014
The Hits Just Keep On Coming
I received a letter today that informed me I have been denied coverage under Medi-Cal.
Which is interesting, since they already issued me a card, signed me up for services, and even re-registered me in an hour long phone conference.
It's funny because the whole reason I applied for Medi-Cal is because I am not allowed to apply for any of other programs.
I am termed a "medically indigent adult" and I my application has been denied.
The claim that I submitted in January and which has languished in some sort of bureaucratic purgatory for the last 9 months. Many pointless phone calls. Many dead ends.
It's almost not surprising. It certainly is inconvenient. Well, harmful, really, I suppose.
But then again, the healthcare industry has never really done me any favors. It's like my longest term relationship and it is wholly abusive.
I suspect that somewhere deep, deep down inside I am furious. But I don't feel it. I just feel tired and depressingly unsurprised. Just another day.
same sad story that's a fact
one step up and two steps back
Which is interesting, since they already issued me a card, signed me up for services, and even re-registered me in an hour long phone conference.
It's funny because the whole reason I applied for Medi-Cal is because I am not allowed to apply for any of other programs.
I am termed a "medically indigent adult" and I my application has been denied.
The claim that I submitted in January and which has languished in some sort of bureaucratic purgatory for the last 9 months. Many pointless phone calls. Many dead ends.
It's almost not surprising. It certainly is inconvenient. Well, harmful, really, I suppose.
But then again, the healthcare industry has never really done me any favors. It's like my longest term relationship and it is wholly abusive.
I suspect that somewhere deep, deep down inside I am furious. But I don't feel it. I just feel tired and depressingly unsurprised. Just another day.
same sad story that's a fact
one step up and two steps back
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Why Am I Even Surprised?
Filed back in Feb or Jan for my "Obamacare" status. Just now received a packet.
Looky here--this is a rather info-poor packet, but it seems like this "Managed Care" option (which is the only option) is built like an HMO. Okay.
Oh ho ho---what's this? None of my doctors seem to be listed as providers. And there are options that only pop up in certain places. Let me call the helpline.
Helpline is woefully mis-titled. They tell me I can't be on Medi-Cal anymore. Which is okay, because I was never on Medi-Cal. Final advice is "Call your doctors and see what they say."
The doctors say "No." Turns out most private practice doctors in LA county do not accept anything other than PPO or straight payment.
That's a little vexing in general, and perhaps very vexing when it comes to my endo, who is basically my oncologist as well and has to run regular tests from pre-surgical samples that exist in some lab, some where. I'm sure there's a way around it. And I'm sure it's horrifically complex and gadawful.
Most private practice docs don't accept Medi-Cal (which I think is what used to be Medicaid) because they lose money on the payments. Medi-Cal's reimbursement is too low, so the docs won't contract with them.
There may be some errors in my apprehension--this is what I've managed to cobble together from the packet, helpline, pointless web search, and conversations with a few doctors' offices.
But, hey--I think this might work out as disaster-type insurance. That's good.
Summary: Your state is probably running their "Obamacare/Medicaid" through HMO's, so be prepared for limited availability on practitioners. Also, get ready to hang out at some county clinics. America, where your ability to be healthy is decided by your pocketbook and credit score. Poor people don't deserve any better.
Looky here--this is a rather info-poor packet, but it seems like this "Managed Care" option (which is the only option) is built like an HMO. Okay.
Oh ho ho---what's this? None of my doctors seem to be listed as providers. And there are options that only pop up in certain places. Let me call the helpline.
Helpline is woefully mis-titled. They tell me I can't be on Medi-Cal anymore. Which is okay, because I was never on Medi-Cal. Final advice is "Call your doctors and see what they say."
The doctors say "No." Turns out most private practice doctors in LA county do not accept anything other than PPO or straight payment.
That's a little vexing in general, and perhaps very vexing when it comes to my endo, who is basically my oncologist as well and has to run regular tests from pre-surgical samples that exist in some lab, some where. I'm sure there's a way around it. And I'm sure it's horrifically complex and gadawful.
Most private practice docs don't accept Medi-Cal (which I think is what used to be Medicaid) because they lose money on the payments. Medi-Cal's reimbursement is too low, so the docs won't contract with them.
There may be some errors in my apprehension--this is what I've managed to cobble together from the packet, helpline, pointless web search, and conversations with a few doctors' offices.
But, hey--I think this might work out as disaster-type insurance. That's good.
Summary: Your state is probably running their "Obamacare/Medicaid" through HMO's, so be prepared for limited availability on practitioners. Also, get ready to hang out at some county clinics. America, where your ability to be healthy is decided by your pocketbook and credit score. Poor people don't deserve any better.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
I Don't Know What To Do
ETA: Shrink called back and saw glorious reason. Thank god for East Coast Jewish Doctor transplants.
tl;dr Medical shit. I really don't enjoy being this person. But I need to express this anger somehow, lest it eat me up. This seems the least toxic for the humans around me. I'm sorry to be a broken record.
I have 3 medical conditions(A, B, C) that require Rx drugs/treatment. I probably need surgery (again) for one of the conditions, and I'll probably still have to take meds after that.
I picked up an independent contracting job in Florida. So I've been in FL for several months and have a few more to go.
I signed up for coverage in CA. I'm so poor I only potentially qualify for state sponsored Medicaid. When I last spoke with a representative, they advised me that everything was processing and that they were categorically refusing to give estimation dates on when to expect application processing. I'm supposed to wait and eventually get something in the mail.
Would that coverage do anything in another state? I don't know. I have no idea what it encompasses and am waiting on some mail notification to be forwarded from CA to my temporary digs. Nothing so far.
I bring this up because, despite the fact that I am willing and do pay out of pocket, suddenly every doctor in 2014 wants to know not if, but when I will be getting insurance. They have no idea what it will cover or if it's even applicable in the cases we are discussing. But they ask. Over and over. It seems to be a sticking point---almost like they can't really treat people with no coverage anymore? I'm not sure. But I have been interrogated in person and over the phone extensively just trying to get Rx refills in FL for meds prescribed IN FL.
Now, for medical condition B, my docs think I need nerve pills. Because, after three years of pursuing multiple therapies, according to them I obviously have psychological conditions that require treatment. (It couldn't possibly be that I had an organ removed and the compensatory meds are not adequate blah blah ignorancecakes). And let me tell you what, no matter what your state by the time you spend a few years getting the runaround from these yahas you NEED psych meds, just to deal with the bullshit. And, quite frankly, because when you can't get relief where you need it (condition A), then you gotta take what helps.
Just submitted a refill for my two shrink meds. I have no phone, and won't until mid month, but I just figured out how to check my voice messages. My shrink called and said "I haven't seen you, this med is being filled in one state and shipped to another, I'm not comfortable. You need to find somebody where you are to get this Rx."
I left him a msg asking if this was going to apply to BOTH meds he prescribed, or just that one that everybody seems so touchy about. I explained that the Rxs had always shipped from another state b/c I'm on a mail order system. Back in CA, they will still show as shipping from another state. Because that's where they ship them from.
And this is an issue because? Because I am obviously running a bi-coastal drug scam with my monthly prescription? I drive 36 hours a couple times a month to....what? I'm not even sure what I could be doing, but apparently it's scandalous.
Running out of money meant I could no longer pursue the pain treatment course for condition C--a wondrous chronic item that sometimes takes 4 days out of my life, sometimes 3 weeks. I had to cease the $300/pop doctor visits, but retained the substandard meds he provided. Until he refused to refill them again. I tried contacting his office but never heard back from them. I'm assuming he suspended refills because I wasn't seeing him on a regular basis. I've heard that reasoning before.
Let me reiterate so that you can appreciate what I'm saying: Since I can't afford to go to the doctor on a regular basis, he refuses to continue to prescribe me medication. I have a diagnosis and a treatment plan, he is refusing to continue it. I could, theoretically, make an appt and go every month or week or whatever. Except then I don't have enough money to buy the meds. Hell, I don't have enough money to buy the meds now. That's why Satan invented credit cards.
So my pain doc cold turkey-ed my meds. My shrink just announced that is going to cold turkey at least one, maybe both of my psych meds. This is responsible doctoring.
I went to a doc here in FL and explained my situation for condition C--chronic pain. It's been getting worse. I explained all about the pain mgmt, the fact that I probably need surgery, blah blah. He was very nice and gave me two Rx. One was fine. The other provided a different kind of relief that was nauseating, but effective. It was also in a patch form, and 4 of the five patches malfunctioned and fell off. Two of them instantly. Call pharmacy and doc about it, conclusion: nobody else in the world has ever had this problem. I am a freak. Deal with it. And suck up the $100 you spent to get 2/5 of a medication.
Well, okay. Can I get a refill on those items then? I called in a moment of extreme pain and duress. That was 3 weeks ago. I've called multiple times. Been given the runaround, been called by the clinic, etc. I even had to go back in for some ass kicking sinusitis. While there I followed up again just trying to find out if I could get anything refilled.
They keep asking me: "When are you going to see a specialist for your condition?"
Well, I don't have the money. I mean, it's like $5K to $15K to get this stuff taken care of. And that's before the post op treatment. Which I will likely have to be on for life.
Again, clarification point: I probably have to take pain meds for the rest of my life to get relief, no matter what surgeries and treatments I get. This is a medical fact. My only hope is menopause. No shit.
Called clinic today and they said, "Oh, the doc wants to know when you are going to get insurance and see a specialist." That's his answer to "Can a brother get a refill?" That is also the 4th or 5th time I will have answered the question for that clinic, in great detail. It's all in my chart. I watched them write it down. I told him to his face.
I don't have money to see new doctors here, to get new prescriptions. Especially not if those Rx will cease to be fillable when I go back to CA. Each visit is a minimum of $100, for any of the three conditions. Some are up to $300. And on top of all that, there is no guarantee that any doctor will re-prescribe what I'm on. Some of them like to run you through the whole circus again, no matter what your history says, your charts.
And obviously, as a patient and sufferer of these conditions, I am in no place to have an opinion or deduction about any of it.
So, I'm working out of state because it's the only job I have been able to get. Money good. Help pay bills. Help pay for medicine.
Because I'm out of state, my doctors don't want to refill my prescriptions. Also because I haven't had an appt in a while. (Which I totally would have been able todo with all the money I wouldn't be making had i stayed unemployed in state, oh, wait, sorry to introduce logic there. No place in medicine for logic.)
What the hell is going on? What am I supposed to do? Is this happening because I'm poor and broke? Is something else going on? Am I being discriminated against because of my conditions? Am I on some "chronic pain" blacklist? If I need to be on psych meds, should they just take them away? What can I do when faced with a government that refuses to respond? Why can't I just pay for the things that work?
Why can't I just pay for the things that work? Why don't I deserve access to treatment?
tl;dr Medical shit. I really don't enjoy being this person. But I need to express this anger somehow, lest it eat me up. This seems the least toxic for the humans around me. I'm sorry to be a broken record.
I have 3 medical conditions(A, B, C) that require Rx drugs/treatment. I probably need surgery (again) for one of the conditions, and I'll probably still have to take meds after that.
I picked up an independent contracting job in Florida. So I've been in FL for several months and have a few more to go.
I signed up for coverage in CA. I'm so poor I only potentially qualify for state sponsored Medicaid. When I last spoke with a representative, they advised me that everything was processing and that they were categorically refusing to give estimation dates on when to expect application processing. I'm supposed to wait and eventually get something in the mail.
Would that coverage do anything in another state? I don't know. I have no idea what it encompasses and am waiting on some mail notification to be forwarded from CA to my temporary digs. Nothing so far.
I bring this up because, despite the fact that I am willing and do pay out of pocket, suddenly every doctor in 2014 wants to know not if, but when I will be getting insurance. They have no idea what it will cover or if it's even applicable in the cases we are discussing. But they ask. Over and over. It seems to be a sticking point---almost like they can't really treat people with no coverage anymore? I'm not sure. But I have been interrogated in person and over the phone extensively just trying to get Rx refills in FL for meds prescribed IN FL.
Now, for medical condition B, my docs think I need nerve pills. Because, after three years of pursuing multiple therapies, according to them I obviously have psychological conditions that require treatment. (It couldn't possibly be that I had an organ removed and the compensatory meds are not adequate blah blah ignorancecakes). And let me tell you what, no matter what your state by the time you spend a few years getting the runaround from these yahas you NEED psych meds, just to deal with the bullshit. And, quite frankly, because when you can't get relief where you need it (condition A), then you gotta take what helps.
Just submitted a refill for my two shrink meds. I have no phone, and won't until mid month, but I just figured out how to check my voice messages. My shrink called and said "I haven't seen you, this med is being filled in one state and shipped to another, I'm not comfortable. You need to find somebody where you are to get this Rx."
I left him a msg asking if this was going to apply to BOTH meds he prescribed, or just that one that everybody seems so touchy about. I explained that the Rxs had always shipped from another state b/c I'm on a mail order system. Back in CA, they will still show as shipping from another state. Because that's where they ship them from.
And this is an issue because? Because I am obviously running a bi-coastal drug scam with my monthly prescription? I drive 36 hours a couple times a month to....what? I'm not even sure what I could be doing, but apparently it's scandalous.
Running out of money meant I could no longer pursue the pain treatment course for condition C--a wondrous chronic item that sometimes takes 4 days out of my life, sometimes 3 weeks. I had to cease the $300/pop doctor visits, but retained the substandard meds he provided. Until he refused to refill them again. I tried contacting his office but never heard back from them. I'm assuming he suspended refills because I wasn't seeing him on a regular basis. I've heard that reasoning before.
Let me reiterate so that you can appreciate what I'm saying: Since I can't afford to go to the doctor on a regular basis, he refuses to continue to prescribe me medication. I have a diagnosis and a treatment plan, he is refusing to continue it. I could, theoretically, make an appt and go every month or week or whatever. Except then I don't have enough money to buy the meds. Hell, I don't have enough money to buy the meds now. That's why Satan invented credit cards.
So my pain doc cold turkey-ed my meds. My shrink just announced that is going to cold turkey at least one, maybe both of my psych meds. This is responsible doctoring.
I went to a doc here in FL and explained my situation for condition C--chronic pain. It's been getting worse. I explained all about the pain mgmt, the fact that I probably need surgery, blah blah. He was very nice and gave me two Rx. One was fine. The other provided a different kind of relief that was nauseating, but effective. It was also in a patch form, and 4 of the five patches malfunctioned and fell off. Two of them instantly. Call pharmacy and doc about it, conclusion: nobody else in the world has ever had this problem. I am a freak. Deal with it. And suck up the $100 you spent to get 2/5 of a medication.
Well, okay. Can I get a refill on those items then? I called in a moment of extreme pain and duress. That was 3 weeks ago. I've called multiple times. Been given the runaround, been called by the clinic, etc. I even had to go back in for some ass kicking sinusitis. While there I followed up again just trying to find out if I could get anything refilled.
They keep asking me: "When are you going to see a specialist for your condition?"
Well, I don't have the money. I mean, it's like $5K to $15K to get this stuff taken care of. And that's before the post op treatment. Which I will likely have to be on for life.
Again, clarification point: I probably have to take pain meds for the rest of my life to get relief, no matter what surgeries and treatments I get. This is a medical fact. My only hope is menopause. No shit.
Called clinic today and they said, "Oh, the doc wants to know when you are going to get insurance and see a specialist." That's his answer to "Can a brother get a refill?" That is also the 4th or 5th time I will have answered the question for that clinic, in great detail. It's all in my chart. I watched them write it down. I told him to his face.
I don't have money to see new doctors here, to get new prescriptions. Especially not if those Rx will cease to be fillable when I go back to CA. Each visit is a minimum of $100, for any of the three conditions. Some are up to $300. And on top of all that, there is no guarantee that any doctor will re-prescribe what I'm on. Some of them like to run you through the whole circus again, no matter what your history says, your charts.
And obviously, as a patient and sufferer of these conditions, I am in no place to have an opinion or deduction about any of it.
So, I'm working out of state because it's the only job I have been able to get. Money good. Help pay bills. Help pay for medicine.
Because I'm out of state, my doctors don't want to refill my prescriptions. Also because I haven't had an appt in a while. (Which I totally would have been able to
What the hell is going on? What am I supposed to do? Is this happening because I'm poor and broke? Is something else going on? Am I being discriminated against because of my conditions? Am I on some "chronic pain" blacklist? If I need to be on psych meds, should they just take them away? What can I do when faced with a government that refuses to respond? Why can't I just pay for the things that work?
Why can't I just pay for the things that work? Why don't I deserve access to treatment?
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Am I Just Getting Dumber? Or Is Trying To Get Healthcare Info That Hard?
I'm having this Groundhog Day-esque experience. I keep on clicking links that lead to other links that lead me back to the same link.
I have a fair bit of experience in translating from insurance-ese to normal layperson. But these forms and explanations have me lost.
This is so ridiculous. I can't even afford healthcare, but I have to go through insurance companies anyways. People who think that universal healthcare is a socialist nightmare are blind, greedy, stupid, or all three. That's right, I said it.
I would like to state, again, that despite the reforms contained in the Affordable Healthcare Act, it fails at the most crucial point: insurance companies are still an integral part of the healthcare system in the US. As long as insurance companies are negotiating deals with hospitals and providers, then health costs will continue to be artificially inflated and increased to the point of ridiculousness.
Any system in which point of sale cash payment is greater than bureacratic billing, you have a serious problem. It's called racketeering. The disparity between what an insurance company pays for a procedure and what an individual pays for the same procedure is outrageous.
The fact that insurance is required to get any feasible pricing on medicine, routine doctor's visits is at the root of the imbalance. Insurance should be for catastrophic, out of the norm events, not for getting your birth control or insulin or diagnostic labs. Sure, Obamacare prevents the criminally greedy practice of deny insurance based on pre existing conditions. But guess what?---people with preexisting conditions are still penalized. Their premiums are a lot more. You can go broke just trying to maintain coverage to help you stay alive.
The ACHA has just further empowered insurance companies: companies who are focused on profit margins, not on the welfare of patients. Companies who have already banded together to insure maintenance of artificially inflated health costs. Companies who have shown they will throw any customer under the bus if they can get away with it, regardless of the health detriments to the patient.
Obamacare, from what I've seen, is just like giving Viagra to a rapist, then telling him to play nice. The problem is not affordable insurance. The problem is insurance, period. People shouldn't have to negotiate through a middleman to get medical treatment (since they already have to do that with doctors, which is a whole other bilious rant).
I'm not even mad typing this. I'm exhausted. I've been trying to look up healthcare plans for the last two hours. And I keep falling asleep. My brain has gone past tired and into depressed defeat. And even if I get something resolved soon, the way the system is set up I will have to fly back to CA to see a physician.
This system is nauseating. Our greed is disgusting. Our empowerment of the already powerful and castration of the less fortunate is sickening.
Should the world end, we have certainly earned it. Humanity is appalling.
I have a fair bit of experience in translating from insurance-ese to normal layperson. But these forms and explanations have me lost.
This is so ridiculous. I can't even afford healthcare, but I have to go through insurance companies anyways. People who think that universal healthcare is a socialist nightmare are blind, greedy, stupid, or all three. That's right, I said it.
I would like to state, again, that despite the reforms contained in the Affordable Healthcare Act, it fails at the most crucial point: insurance companies are still an integral part of the healthcare system in the US. As long as insurance companies are negotiating deals with hospitals and providers, then health costs will continue to be artificially inflated and increased to the point of ridiculousness.
Any system in which point of sale cash payment is greater than bureacratic billing, you have a serious problem. It's called racketeering. The disparity between what an insurance company pays for a procedure and what an individual pays for the same procedure is outrageous.
The fact that insurance is required to get any feasible pricing on medicine, routine doctor's visits is at the root of the imbalance. Insurance should be for catastrophic, out of the norm events, not for getting your birth control or insulin or diagnostic labs. Sure, Obamacare prevents the criminally greedy practice of deny insurance based on pre existing conditions. But guess what?---people with preexisting conditions are still penalized. Their premiums are a lot more. You can go broke just trying to maintain coverage to help you stay alive.
The ACHA has just further empowered insurance companies: companies who are focused on profit margins, not on the welfare of patients. Companies who have already banded together to insure maintenance of artificially inflated health costs. Companies who have shown they will throw any customer under the bus if they can get away with it, regardless of the health detriments to the patient.
Obamacare, from what I've seen, is just like giving Viagra to a rapist, then telling him to play nice. The problem is not affordable insurance. The problem is insurance, period. People shouldn't have to negotiate through a middleman to get medical treatment (since they already have to do that with doctors, which is a whole other bilious rant).
I'm not even mad typing this. I'm exhausted. I've been trying to look up healthcare plans for the last two hours. And I keep falling asleep. My brain has gone past tired and into depressed defeat. And even if I get something resolved soon, the way the system is set up I will have to fly back to CA to see a physician.
This system is nauseating. Our greed is disgusting. Our empowerment of the already powerful and castration of the less fortunate is sickening.
Should the world end, we have certainly earned it. Humanity is appalling.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Medicine Isn't Science
I thought that for a long time. But medicine is, at best, an art and at worst, blowhard negligence.
If anything untoward should happen to me, or if I should untowardly happen to anything else, I have a request:
Please sue the fucking shit out of every doctor who has "treated" me in the past 8 years. Find the most vicious lawyer you can and sue, sue, sue until they are run out of business. Some of them are nice people, but they are all a part of the machine erroneously labeled "healthcare." As cogs in that machine, most only serve to perpetuate the nasty cycle: under/overprescribed, assuming most women with any complaint are "just depressed," encouraging a culture of scalpel jockeys instead of preventative care, and most unforgivable of all, not listening to their patients.
I'm not stupid, not about this anyway. I'm not lying. I have been trying for so long, so hard, to follow all the rules to be "healthy." And you know what following the doctor's suggestions has gotten me? One organ down, persistent pain, internal scarring, and in the worst shape, physically and mentally, that I've ever been in my life.
First, do no harm: yeah, right. Harm seems to be all those fucks are capable of dishing out. Harm, indifference, deluded conviction, and gross negligence.
Sue them. Smear them on the web. Go on cheap trashy talk shows. Render them finally responsible for their actions.
I'm not kidding.
If anything untoward should happen to me, or if I should untowardly happen to anything else, I have a request:
Please sue the fucking shit out of every doctor who has "treated" me in the past 8 years. Find the most vicious lawyer you can and sue, sue, sue until they are run out of business. Some of them are nice people, but they are all a part of the machine erroneously labeled "healthcare." As cogs in that machine, most only serve to perpetuate the nasty cycle: under/overprescribed, assuming most women with any complaint are "just depressed," encouraging a culture of scalpel jockeys instead of preventative care, and most unforgivable of all, not listening to their patients.
I'm not stupid, not about this anyway. I'm not lying. I have been trying for so long, so hard, to follow all the rules to be "healthy." And you know what following the doctor's suggestions has gotten me? One organ down, persistent pain, internal scarring, and in the worst shape, physically and mentally, that I've ever been in my life.
First, do no harm: yeah, right. Harm seems to be all those fucks are capable of dishing out. Harm, indifference, deluded conviction, and gross negligence.
Sue them. Smear them on the web. Go on cheap trashy talk shows. Render them finally responsible for their actions.
I'm not kidding.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Like Letting The Air Out of a Balloon
I'm picking through my massive, yet never quite complete, medical records as I have One Last Doctor's Appointment to see if I can get any help for all the wonderful bodily ailments I have as a result of being healed. Oh Irony, you so crazy.
And I had a thought that I've never had before: what would my life be like if that biopsy had come back clean? What would my life be like now if I'd never had cancer?
I can't really think past that point. It seems strange that I never thought of it before. All I can imagine is the horrific stress of the day I got the diagnosis (soooo many things going wrong that day)--and I think, "Well, my sister and I probably would have had a better time during her visit." I do not believe I was ideal company during that time.
Isn't it strange that I've never even considered the alternative, what the past 2 years would have been like if this didn't happen? I'm sure that says something about me, but I'll be damned if I know what it is.
***********************
And I had a thought that I've never had before: what would my life be like if that biopsy had come back clean? What would my life be like now if I'd never had cancer?
I can't really think past that point. It seems strange that I never thought of it before. All I can imagine is the horrific stress of the day I got the diagnosis (soooo many things going wrong that day)--and I think, "Well, my sister and I probably would have had a better time during her visit." I do not believe I was ideal company during that time.
Isn't it strange that I've never even considered the alternative, what the past 2 years would have been like if this didn't happen? I'm sure that says something about me, but I'll be damned if I know what it is.
***********************
Saturday, November 16, 2013
"Your Scar Looks Good"
I hear that a bit. It's funny.
"Your scar looks good."
I never cared about the scar, but it's quite a discussion point among the surgeons, nurses, etc. I got more unsolicited consolation and reassurance about my scar than I did for the cancer. Nothing about what would happen later.
It's funny because the only people who spot the scar are fellow thyroidectomy patients. Even though my scar looks "great" any thyroidectomy patients zone in on it like a laser. From People who know me to virtual office strangers have engaged me on the subject with no preamble.
I am leaving I am leaving but the fighter still remains
my teeth have turned the wrong shape for my mouth
I'll take your part when darkness comes
Man, Art Garfunkel's voice is almost angelic at times.
Why do we so easily lose sight of goals that would provide relief and comfort? How can we know so much about what goes on inside of each other, yet still fail to create a system of mutual benefit?
Holy Moly Frijoles. I'm on a YouTube autoplay, and somehow I'm watching Phantom of the Opera with Sara Brightman and Antonio. Fucking. Banderas?
I feel like I'm taking crazy pills!
"Your scar looks good."
I never cared about the scar, but it's quite a discussion point among the surgeons, nurses, etc. I got more unsolicited consolation and reassurance about my scar than I did for the cancer. Nothing about what would happen later.
It's funny because the only people who spot the scar are fellow thyroidectomy patients. Even though my scar looks "great" any thyroidectomy patients zone in on it like a laser. From People who know me to virtual office strangers have engaged me on the subject with no preamble.
I am leaving I am leaving but the fighter still remains
my teeth have turned the wrong shape for my mouth
I'll take your part when darkness comes
Man, Art Garfunkel's voice is almost angelic at times.
Why do we so easily lose sight of goals that would provide relief and comfort? How can we know so much about what goes on inside of each other, yet still fail to create a system of mutual benefit?
Holy Moly Frijoles. I'm on a YouTube autoplay, and somehow I'm watching Phantom of the Opera with Sara Brightman and Antonio. Fucking. Banderas?
I feel like I'm taking crazy pills!
Thursday, October 10, 2013
I Waited Too Long
And I missed my chance to say goodbye.
Nothing is fair. It really shouldn't surprise me anymore.
Thus, conscience does make cowards of us all
And the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action
Nothing is fair. It really shouldn't surprise me anymore.
Thus, conscience does make cowards of us all
And the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action
Friday, August 9, 2013
Checking In
The almost white noise of traffic, one street off a main drag, filters in the screen door along with sunlight and a light breeze.
It's another ridiculously beautiful day in SoCal, with Handy J singing an interestingly Country/Western themed melange as he does the dishes in the kitchen.
Returned from a trip to Denver--another location with beauty and nice weather to spare. I was lucky to escape there with my possessions intact, as my compatriots were of the rascally sort.
On this trip I learned it is incredibly hard, if not impossible, to make sexual harassment charges stick against people below the age of five.
Which is a shame, because those little buggers know it and there's some real shady stuff going on out there.
I'm sure everybody has seen this, but just in case. This is we can show the aliens to stop them from wiping us out. He's Earth's only hope:
http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-collections/428467/surprise-guests
That's one damn catchy song. Save us SCobie, you're our only hope.
Visiting with the Woosters made me realize how much I like kids and cats. I actually love them.
I miss them when they aren't around. I just don't love them enough to have my own. Other people's will suffice.
The Wolverine was a fun movie. Hugh Jackman is so immensely likeable and pushes the limits of belief with the physicality he brings to the role. (Physicality = 889793243234j937 lbs of muscle).
I continue to be delighted and a little awed by how Marvel is pulling all the threads of their movies together. Their universe is so disjointed, in terms of who owns rights to what. And yet. . . there's always that cameo or that end credit scene or that Stan Lee appearance.
By the way, did Stan Lee appear in The Wolverine? I don't remember seeing him. The movie itself was a competent update to the original Wolverine mini series involving his time in Japan.
I would like to take a moment to protest, again, that the Origins official back story of Wolverine blows. I was so disappointed when I got those comics. They got it all wrong, destroyed the mystery, limited his experiences, etc. Fanboy wank.
But seriously, how much cooler would The Wolverine been if set in feudal Japan(AS THE BABY JEBUS INTENDED) and he was a samurai? If you don't think that's cool, then we probably shouldn't hang out.
I'm on a new med regimen which has me pinging between hibernation sleep and carsick jitters. Bleh. I'll document my travails for posterity some other time. For now, I find myself in the wacky world of self medication and monitoring. Which, as I pause to reflect on it, has kinda been what's been going on all along. Hmm.
I have so much to do, and you know what?
In a world. . . where no Effs are Geed. . . what becomes possible?
It's another ridiculously beautiful day in SoCal, with Handy J singing an interestingly Country/Western themed melange as he does the dishes in the kitchen.
Returned from a trip to Denver--another location with beauty and nice weather to spare. I was lucky to escape there with my possessions intact, as my compatriots were of the rascally sort.
On this trip I learned it is incredibly hard, if not impossible, to make sexual harassment charges stick against people below the age of five.
Which is a shame, because those little buggers know it and there's some real shady stuff going on out there.
 |
| If she no lika your answer, she eata your face! |
I'm sure everybody has seen this, but just in case. This is we can show the aliens to stop them from wiping us out. He's Earth's only hope:
http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-collections/428467/surprise-guests
That's one damn catchy song. Save us SCobie, you're our only hope.
Visiting with the Woosters made me realize how much I like kids and cats. I actually love them.
I miss them when they aren't around. I just don't love them enough to have my own. Other people's will suffice.
The Wolverine was a fun movie. Hugh Jackman is so immensely likeable and pushes the limits of belief with the physicality he brings to the role. (Physicality = 889793243234j937 lbs of muscle).
I continue to be delighted and a little awed by how Marvel is pulling all the threads of their movies together. Their universe is so disjointed, in terms of who owns rights to what. And yet. . . there's always that cameo or that end credit scene or that Stan Lee appearance.
By the way, did Stan Lee appear in The Wolverine? I don't remember seeing him. The movie itself was a competent update to the original Wolverine mini series involving his time in Japan.
I would like to take a moment to protest, again, that the Origins official back story of Wolverine blows. I was so disappointed when I got those comics. They got it all wrong, destroyed the mystery, limited his experiences, etc. Fanboy wank.
But seriously, how much cooler would The Wolverine been if set in feudal Japan(AS THE BABY JEBUS INTENDED) and he was a samurai? If you don't think that's cool, then we probably shouldn't hang out.
I'm on a new med regimen which has me pinging between hibernation sleep and carsick jitters. Bleh. I'll document my travails for posterity some other time. For now, I find myself in the wacky world of self medication and monitoring. Which, as I pause to reflect on it, has kinda been what's been going on all along. Hmm.
I have so much to do, and you know what?
In a world. . . where no Effs are Geed. . . what becomes possible?
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Macavity's Not There
That is just what's running through my head.
I am fargin' worn out, fo realz. Today is my Friday. Which reminds me. . . I has a beverage to sip.
Ahhhh....Jeremiah Sweet Tea Vodka, thou art surely the devil's work.
I am in the weirdest mood. Part of it is undoubtedly that I have been putting myself out there in new ways. Part of it is gearing up to argue about my thyroid/health treatment again (soooooooo exhausting....i shoulda been a lawyer). Part of it is just that if I'm active two or more days in row, I am wiped out. Destroyed.
And yet still filled with neurotic twitchiness and 3 am awakenings.
Hopefully all to the good. Trying to make the most of waking time, including using some of that time to try and relax. Shocking thoughts. But seriously, I have probably shopped 13+ hours in the last 3 days. Oy vey. Nothing like being your fattest ever and trying to find clothes. But I have no one to blame but myself.
Or so the TSH tests from the doctor assert. In a brief conversation tonight that we never got to conclude, my Endo again mentioned that I was hyPERthyroid now. That's what I've gained twenty (more) pounds, get exhausted walking up a flight of stairs, have to sleep for days after a few days of average exertion, have depression that doesn't respond to ANY SSR/SSNRI meds. . . . .
Oh fuck it. I'm tired of listing this shit. I'm tired of having this conversation. Or monologue.
I don't even know why I'm writing this.
Macklemlore....thoughts? I've a soft spot for extreme silliness, so I'm not sure I'm filtering this correctly.
I am fargin' worn out, fo realz. Today is my Friday. Which reminds me. . . I has a beverage to sip.
Ahhhh....Jeremiah Sweet Tea Vodka, thou art surely the devil's work.
I am in the weirdest mood. Part of it is undoubtedly that I have been putting myself out there in new ways. Part of it is gearing up to argue about my thyroid/health treatment again (soooooooo exhausting....i shoulda been a lawyer). Part of it is just that if I'm active two or more days in row, I am wiped out. Destroyed.
And yet still filled with neurotic twitchiness and 3 am awakenings.
Hopefully all to the good. Trying to make the most of waking time, including using some of that time to try and relax. Shocking thoughts. But seriously, I have probably shopped 13+ hours in the last 3 days. Oy vey. Nothing like being your fattest ever and trying to find clothes. But I have no one to blame but myself.
Or so the TSH tests from the doctor assert. In a brief conversation tonight that we never got to conclude, my Endo again mentioned that I was hyPERthyroid now. That's what I've gained twenty (more) pounds, get exhausted walking up a flight of stairs, have to sleep for days after a few days of average exertion, have depression that doesn't respond to ANY SSR/SSNRI meds. . . . .
Oh fuck it. I'm tired of listing this shit. I'm tired of having this conversation. Or monologue.
I don't even know why I'm writing this.
Macklemlore....thoughts? I've a soft spot for extreme silliness, so I'm not sure I'm filtering this correctly.
Friday, June 21, 2013
True Evil Never Sleeps
Well, there has to be some explanation for waking up at 2 am. It's especially vexing since I'm on so many sleepy time meds right now.
I have passed out sitting up, trying to watch the same movie with Handy J two times now. (Black Sunday, if anyone cares. Don't ask me what happens. Apparently I just snore right through it.)
Joined a gym for a month. Just to see if I can make myself go. Had the obligatory training and "assessment" with a gym dude. He was very nice. I must be really aggravating for personal trainers to talk to because I already know just about everything they have to say.
I know about; weightlifting to increase your resting/basal metabolic rate; rotation of muscle exercises to allow for recovery and gains; working the large muscle groups hard to get quick gains; circuit and cross training to make weightlifting aerobic; blahblah spotmecakes.
He tried really hard to sell me on a personal trainer. And I think I could really benefit from it, if for no other reason than I will show up if I'm obligated to meet someone. (So much easier to ditch a workout if it's just you. At home. Hiding under covers. Watching Netflix.)
Trainers are also good because you don't have to think and plan your workouts. So it's less mental energy. And less dread. Each workout is a surprise, which helps with motivation.
And even though the rates are hella low, it's still too much money. The gym requires you to book a 28 or 52 week increment. And if you want a trainer for 3 times a week, it really adds up. Thousands of dollars.
Sigh.You know, I wasn't even thinking about getting a trainer till he did his whole little song and dance. This is a completely fabricated conundrum.
I can probably find a strength training program online that incorporates muscle confusion and such.
I'm also gearing up to go at it with my Endo Doc again. I think I need to try some dessicated "natural" hormone instead of levo (Synthroid). Doctors have been trained to hate and distrust dessicated hormone. The big argument is that it isn't properly regulated, so you can never be sure of the potency from dose to dose.
And if you've had cancer, they get real twitchy about changing up your meds. There's always that spectre of looming relapse on the horizon, and no doctor wants to be responsible for 'reactivating' you cancer.
Sigh.
I won't bore you with the long history of thyroid meds, but here's an interesting article about natural thyroid and a controlled study. I believe the article author to be biased, but that doesn't change the science part.
Did I mention the personal trainer took me through a brief workout? That nearly killed me?
3 sets of walking lunges (no weight, knee tap--ugh)
3 sets of squats (no weight)
40 sit ups on incline bench with medicine ball passes
2 sets of overhead press 40lbs
1 set of overhead press with decreasing weight but constant motion (this actually nauseated me. by the time you get down to 10lbs your arms are shaking and you can barely do a rep. i have to investigate this method)
My legs were like jello afterwards. I had trouble going down stairs. I think my quads and glutes are mad at me. Which is fine, because those fuckers haven't acted right in years, so there.
I applied for 13 jobs in one day. I have so far received on rejection notice. It's nice that they took the time to acknowledge my application. But it's very frustrating to not know why I'm being rejected. I was crazy qualified for the position.
Sigh.
Ooo.....I just leaned back and noticed those incline situps worked my transverse abdominus. Yay!
I'm gonna give the acupuncture/herbalist a second shot today. See what they suggest. They have some mojo going on about having a "damp heat" or "dry cold"---but from what I can see, the diets are basically hardcore clean eating. Elimination of processed foods, refined sugar. Eating lots of whole foods. No dairy.
You dieters out there know the drill.
Anyhoo, I will be consulting with them today. Maybe they can stick some needles in me and shock my brains out. Hee.
Pointless post is pointless.
I have passed out sitting up, trying to watch the same movie with Handy J two times now. (Black Sunday, if anyone cares. Don't ask me what happens. Apparently I just snore right through it.)
Joined a gym for a month. Just to see if I can make myself go. Had the obligatory training and "assessment" with a gym dude. He was very nice. I must be really aggravating for personal trainers to talk to because I already know just about everything they have to say.
I know about; weightlifting to increase your resting/basal metabolic rate; rotation of muscle exercises to allow for recovery and gains; working the large muscle groups hard to get quick gains; circuit and cross training to make weightlifting aerobic; blahblah spotmecakes.
He tried really hard to sell me on a personal trainer. And I think I could really benefit from it, if for no other reason than I will show up if I'm obligated to meet someone. (So much easier to ditch a workout if it's just you. At home. Hiding under covers. Watching Netflix.)
Trainers are also good because you don't have to think and plan your workouts. So it's less mental energy. And less dread. Each workout is a surprise, which helps with motivation.
And even though the rates are hella low, it's still too much money. The gym requires you to book a 28 or 52 week increment. And if you want a trainer for 3 times a week, it really adds up. Thousands of dollars.
Sigh.You know, I wasn't even thinking about getting a trainer till he did his whole little song and dance. This is a completely fabricated conundrum.
I can probably find a strength training program online that incorporates muscle confusion and such.
I'm also gearing up to go at it with my Endo Doc again. I think I need to try some dessicated "natural" hormone instead of levo (Synthroid). Doctors have been trained to hate and distrust dessicated hormone. The big argument is that it isn't properly regulated, so you can never be sure of the potency from dose to dose.
And if you've had cancer, they get real twitchy about changing up your meds. There's always that spectre of looming relapse on the horizon, and no doctor wants to be responsible for 'reactivating' you cancer.
Sigh.
I won't bore you with the long history of thyroid meds, but here's an interesting article about natural thyroid and a controlled study. I believe the article author to be biased, but that doesn't change the science part.
Did I mention the personal trainer took me through a brief workout? That nearly killed me?
3 sets of walking lunges (no weight, knee tap--ugh)
3 sets of squats (no weight)
40 sit ups on incline bench with medicine ball passes
2 sets of overhead press 40lbs
1 set of overhead press with decreasing weight but constant motion (this actually nauseated me. by the time you get down to 10lbs your arms are shaking and you can barely do a rep. i have to investigate this method)
My legs were like jello afterwards. I had trouble going down stairs. I think my quads and glutes are mad at me. Which is fine, because those fuckers haven't acted right in years, so there.
I applied for 13 jobs in one day. I have so far received on rejection notice. It's nice that they took the time to acknowledge my application. But it's very frustrating to not know why I'm being rejected. I was crazy qualified for the position.
Sigh.
Ooo.....I just leaned back and noticed those incline situps worked my transverse abdominus. Yay!
I'm gonna give the acupuncture/herbalist a second shot today. See what they suggest. They have some mojo going on about having a "damp heat" or "dry cold"---but from what I can see, the diets are basically hardcore clean eating. Elimination of processed foods, refined sugar. Eating lots of whole foods. No dairy.
You dieters out there know the drill.
Anyhoo, I will be consulting with them today. Maybe they can stick some needles in me and shock my brains out. Hee.
Pointless post is pointless.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Checking In To Say: Uuuuuuuuuuugaaaaawwaa
That is the sound of all of my puny muscles, crying out in pain.
Here's a fun fact about being without thyroid post a cancer diagnosis: for treatment purposes, the thyroid replacement hormone is administered at abnormally high levels. This makes you hyperthyroid.
While I haven't manifested all of the symptoms of hyperthroidism (such as, say, weight loss), I do have some fun side effects. Two of these are muscle wasting and muscle weakness.
I'm not sure of the exact mechanism, but I think it's some combination of catabolic activity on the muscles and heightened constant proteolysis. The point is that your muscles go bye-bye, especially noticeable in the large muscle groups (glutes, quads, biceps, abs). Your physical capacity is significantly reduced. Suddenly, carrying the grocery basket is a struggle. You can't do a single push up.
I imagine that this, combined with my prolonged absence from a regular work and exercise schedule, is the reason why my body is in revolt after two days of activity. Standing: aerobics for the horribly sedentary.
I mean, the muscles on the balls of my feet hurt. It's painful to walk barefoot around the house. WAT???? Crazy.
It's all good, though. Some funny stuff happened the last two days, including a Bona Fide L.A. Moment. All of which I will type later, after unfurling my wretched knotted muscles a bit more.
Here's a fun fact about being without thyroid post a cancer diagnosis: for treatment purposes, the thyroid replacement hormone is administered at abnormally high levels. This makes you hyperthyroid.
While I haven't manifested all of the symptoms of hyperthroidism (such as, say, weight loss), I do have some fun side effects. Two of these are muscle wasting and muscle weakness.
I'm not sure of the exact mechanism, but I think it's some combination of catabolic activity on the muscles and heightened constant proteolysis. The point is that your muscles go bye-bye, especially noticeable in the large muscle groups (glutes, quads, biceps, abs). Your physical capacity is significantly reduced. Suddenly, carrying the grocery basket is a struggle. You can't do a single push up.
I imagine that this, combined with my prolonged absence from a regular work and exercise schedule, is the reason why my body is in revolt after two days of activity. Standing: aerobics for the horribly sedentary.
I mean, the muscles on the balls of my feet hurt. It's painful to walk barefoot around the house. WAT???? Crazy.
It's all good, though. Some funny stuff happened the last two days, including a Bona Fide L.A. Moment. All of which I will type later, after unfurling my wretched knotted muscles a bit more.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Picked The Wrong Month To Crawl Into A Black Pit of Despair
Because apparently October is when all my relatives do their visiting.
Despite my earnest desire to forgo any human contact, there is a force more powerful. And that force is the Guilt/Obligation Engine. Getting my ass out the door since 19-neveryoumind.
It is pretty impressive. In a time when I can't even be arsed to go see awesome movies with my (long suffering) friends, I will run around with an untreated sinus infection so I can do whatever it is the recent visitors want.
But when I'm not acting as shuttle service for cousins and uncles, it's been rough. There are many times I've started composing an entry about life at this point, only to discard the effort because it seems pointless and depressing.
This last week of doctor visits didn't help. The summary of their input is "Try this stuff you already did before (even though it didn't work before)" and "What do you want me to do about it?"
What do I want? I want to not spend over a year talking to you only to have to recap EVERY GODDAMN ASPECT OF MY TREATMENT WITH YOU EVERY FUCKING VISIT. I want to not have to approach my visits like an attorney preparing to argue a case for litigation. I want you to see me as an individual and quit confusing me with your other patients. I want you to remember what we've discussed. I want you to look into alternatives when the current regiment isn't working.
I want you to listen. And hear me. But why would you? We live in a world where no one listens. Nobody has time. Nobody cares. If I'm barely a blip on the radar of friends and family, how can I really expect to register with people who are just doing a job? Despite the fact that their job is, in fact, to pay attention to these matters I'm bringing up.
Let's face it: I'm exhausted. The realm of health care is like Sisyphean gladiatorial combat--and you have to be your own champion. Even when doctors care, they still aren't really tuned into your case. Which is how you arrive back where I am: here, throw some pills at it (the ones that didn't work before) and here's some lame ass advice about life changes that might help. (Get a job seems to be popular. Which, yeah. Because I've chosen this life of glamorous unemployment). Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
And I just don't have the energy to fight back anymore. In any area of life: friends, family, dreams, jobs, health. I was running on empty when I moved out here and life since has just tapped my reserves. I just don't bounce back like I used to. I guess I should have had a better plan, or immediately made a better one when the latest round of things went to shit. But I am without inspiration.
Feh. Whiny!Post is whiny.
Despite my earnest desire to forgo any human contact, there is a force more powerful. And that force is the Guilt/Obligation Engine. Getting my ass out the door since 19-neveryoumind.
It is pretty impressive. In a time when I can't even be arsed to go see awesome movies with my (long suffering) friends, I will run around with an untreated sinus infection so I can do whatever it is the recent visitors want.
But when I'm not acting as shuttle service for cousins and uncles, it's been rough. There are many times I've started composing an entry about life at this point, only to discard the effort because it seems pointless and depressing.
This last week of doctor visits didn't help. The summary of their input is "Try this stuff you already did before (even though it didn't work before)" and "What do you want me to do about it?"
What do I want? I want to not spend over a year talking to you only to have to recap EVERY GODDAMN ASPECT OF MY TREATMENT WITH YOU EVERY FUCKING VISIT. I want to not have to approach my visits like an attorney preparing to argue a case for litigation. I want you to see me as an individual and quit confusing me with your other patients. I want you to remember what we've discussed. I want you to look into alternatives when the current regiment isn't working.
I want you to listen. And hear me. But why would you? We live in a world where no one listens. Nobody has time. Nobody cares. If I'm barely a blip on the radar of friends and family, how can I really expect to register with people who are just doing a job? Despite the fact that their job is, in fact, to pay attention to these matters I'm bringing up.
Let's face it: I'm exhausted. The realm of health care is like Sisyphean gladiatorial combat--and you have to be your own champion. Even when doctors care, they still aren't really tuned into your case. Which is how you arrive back where I am: here, throw some pills at it (the ones that didn't work before) and here's some lame ass advice about life changes that might help. (Get a job seems to be popular. Which, yeah. Because I've chosen this life of glamorous unemployment). Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
And I just don't have the energy to fight back anymore. In any area of life: friends, family, dreams, jobs, health. I was running on empty when I moved out here and life since has just tapped my reserves. I just don't bounce back like I used to. I guess I should have had a better plan, or immediately made a better one when the latest round of things went to shit. But I am without inspiration.
Feh. Whiny!Post is whiny.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Busy Couple Of Weeks
Well, there's been some doings around here. I guess I should qualify that "busy" tag: it's been comparatively busy for a person with thyroid deficiency who gets pooped out by more than one activity a day.
I have begun the job search in semi-earnestness. Still trying to balance something I'm interested in against things for which I qualify. My current paradigm is to apply for jobs I can do (but will dislike) that make the money I want. On the other hand, I'm looking at any job that skews towards something I might like, regardless of pay. Slim pickings so far, but we'll see.
I have also rebooted my freelancing efforts and started my own small consulting business. Going to market initially to folks I've worked with before. This def falls into category of business I don't want to do for the rest of my life, but doing it on a consultant basis might make a difference. At least it will be work I can take or leave. Fingers crossed that my old associates will want to hire me for some stuff.
The Awesome and Amazing Tink and Pandaman came for a brief visit on their way east. They are relocating for a short while. They are such awesome friends--I think they have been to my house more than anyone else, including folks who live here. They are super easy houseguests, which is saying something in a one room studio.
In honor of my houseguests, and in acknowledgement of the fact that not everyone can live off Triscuit crumbs and milk, I made some food and bought a shitton more.
Easy as they may be, Tink and Panda are also very tricksy. I turned my back for a second, and suddenly all their stuff was in my house.
Joke was on them, though. Even though it was just the contents of a mini Cooper, their stuff could not fit in my house. Hahahahaha, poverty wins again! It's funny that even in a 36 hour stretch, we manage to create jokes, have theme songs, and run them into the ground. For this visit it was:
--"Total Eclipse of the Heart." So very many unintentional times.
--Taking back "Fuck you!"
--Candy. Candy. Candy. And Ice Cream!
--Incidental music was provided by Mike Tyson.
They carried on their merry way the next day. Will I ever see those mysterious strangers again????
My uncle visited, and we did a quick stroll down Hollywood and drive up in the Hills. Our time in front of Grauman's directly led to me finally getting to stalk see Craig Ferguson tape a show! Lin Lin and Princess O graciously agreed to make these last minute plans with me.
Let me just say that going to a taping is a commitment. It takes hours, you are a clapping monkey, and stupid hobags with too much plastic surgery get chosen to be in Lesbian Row instead of you.
Hello...I dressed up (per site instructions) for this. How dare you put some Botoxed, stretched out, too-light-lipstick-wearing biatches over me! *sigh*
Anyhoo, Craig isn't kidding, that studio is teeny tiny. The staff were foul mouthed and cool, and I'd do it again. Maybe after I lose 50lbs and get some botulism injected into my face.
Serendipitously, frequent commenter and Friend of the Blahg, Orchid Lover, was in town and saw CraigyFerg that same week! We managed to meet up, in spite of my extreme lateness and doofiness. OL was patient and kind, and we finally got together all too briefly for some cocktails and conversation.
We met up at the Tar Pits, which upon reflection is funny for many reasons. OL is every bit as cool as her comments denote, and I was touched that she took time out of her busy schedule to visit with me.
As I walked her back to her parking garage, we passed the LACMA front installation. My pix don't do it justice, but for what it's worth:
In between frantically cleaning my postage stamp domicile, I also decided to do some autumnal cleaning. In this case, I smoked too much crack and decided I need to downsize my already-downsized makeup collection. In fairness, it's probably well past time to ditch some of these things for expiration of ingredients if nothing else.
Well, this naturally led into me BUYING MORE MAKESUPS. The lovely Lin Lin actually volunteered (I know, right?) to go with me to Sephora. Hours later, I emerged with a pretty cool kit. Sephora has a neat practice of actually creating sets that contain items from several different brands. I scored a set that had many types of things I wanted to try:
I could do a review, if anybody is interested.
Retail therapy really does work for me. Makeup shopping/cruising is something my little seester and I used to do. I really miss those times. But going with Lin Lin was fun and I felt picked up afterwards. I think she had fun too--it's always nice to meet a fellow cosmetics junkie.
In cancer/thyroid news, the doc has upped my meds again. I should probably do a summary review, because lord knows I've had trouble finding stuff in my own searches on the webz. Hopefully I will get my dosing resolved in the next few weeks, as I'm probably having to boot my insurance at the end of 2011. Blatherblahb welcomes any advice on insurance for "cancer survivors" and other folks unlucky enough to have pre existing conditions.
To close, here is an entry on http://icanhascheezburger.com that had me laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. I don't know why, but I think it was Igor and Cerberus. Hope you enjoy.
http://icanhascheezburger.com/
I have begun the job search in semi-earnestness. Still trying to balance something I'm interested in against things for which I qualify. My current paradigm is to apply for jobs I can do (but will dislike) that make the money I want. On the other hand, I'm looking at any job that skews towards something I might like, regardless of pay. Slim pickings so far, but we'll see.
I have also rebooted my freelancing efforts and started my own small consulting business. Going to market initially to folks I've worked with before. This def falls into category of business I don't want to do for the rest of my life, but doing it on a consultant basis might make a difference. At least it will be work I can take or leave. Fingers crossed that my old associates will want to hire me for some stuff.
The Awesome and Amazing Tink and Pandaman came for a brief visit on their way east. They are relocating for a short while. They are such awesome friends--I think they have been to my house more than anyone else, including folks who live here. They are super easy houseguests, which is saying something in a one room studio.
 | ||
| See, I can cook. And by cook, I mean use prepared pizza crust and WAY too much garlic. |
Easy as they may be, Tink and Panda are also very tricksy. I turned my back for a second, and suddenly all their stuff was in my house.
 | ||
| This is before they went out and bought a bed and more stuff! |
--"Total Eclipse of the Heart." So very many unintentional times.
--Taking back "Fuck you!"
--Candy. Candy. Candy. And Ice Cream!
--Incidental music was provided by Mike Tyson.
They carried on their merry way the next day. Will I ever see those mysterious strangers again????
 |
| Watch out for this guy. Don't let the awesome chops lull you. |
Let me just say that going to a taping is a commitment. It takes hours, you are a clapping monkey, and stupid hobags with too much plastic surgery get chosen to be in Lesbian Row instead of you.
Hello...I dressed up (per site instructions) for this. How dare you put some Botoxed, stretched out, too-light-lipstick-wearing biatches over me! *sigh*
Anyhoo, Craig isn't kidding, that studio is teeny tiny. The staff were foul mouthed and cool, and I'd do it again. Maybe after I lose 50lbs and get some botulism injected into my face.
Serendipitously, frequent commenter and Friend of the Blahg, Orchid Lover, was in town and saw CraigyFerg that same week! We managed to meet up, in spite of my extreme lateness and doofiness. OL was patient and kind, and we finally got together all too briefly for some cocktails and conversation.
We met up at the Tar Pits, which upon reflection is funny for many reasons. OL is every bit as cool as her comments denote, and I was touched that she took time out of her busy schedule to visit with me.
As I walked her back to her parking garage, we passed the LACMA front installation. My pix don't do it justice, but for what it's worth:
In between frantically cleaning my postage stamp domicile, I also decided to do some autumnal cleaning. In this case, I smoked too much crack and decided I need to downsize my already-downsized makeup collection. In fairness, it's probably well past time to ditch some of these things for expiration of ingredients if nothing else.
 |
| Wah! But it should go if it smells off, has separated, etc. Right? |
 |
| Glitz & Glam--Sephora Favorites. |
Retail therapy really does work for me. Makeup shopping/cruising is something my little seester and I used to do. I really miss those times. But going with Lin Lin was fun and I felt picked up afterwards. I think she had fun too--it's always nice to meet a fellow cosmetics junkie.
In cancer/thyroid news, the doc has upped my meds again. I should probably do a summary review, because lord knows I've had trouble finding stuff in my own searches on the webz. Hopefully I will get my dosing resolved in the next few weeks, as I'm probably having to boot my insurance at the end of 2011. Blatherblahb welcomes any advice on insurance for "cancer survivors" and other folks unlucky enough to have pre existing conditions.
To close, here is an entry on http://icanhascheezburger.com that had me laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. I don't know why, but I think it was Igor and Cerberus. Hope you enjoy.
http://icanhascheezburger.com/
Thursday, November 17, 2011
For People That Don't Think We Need Healthcare Reform
This is a post I don't want to make because it's messy, complicated, leads to tangents, and makes me mad. However, this line of thought has occurred to me so many times, and caused me so much stress, that I feel compelled to record it.
I don't care what your politics are; healthcare needs to be examined and overhauled. The changes made can't come soon enough and are probably too little too late for hundreds of thousands as it is. I'm not even sure why healthcare is a matter of party allegiance. The more I see, the less sense party affiliation makes.
I assume that the point of labels like "Democrat" and "Republican" are to provide a shorthand for understanding the viewpoints of the party members. But this seems like engineered prejudice and ignorance. Shouldn't our legislators be people who weigh each issue as it appears, taking into consideration current and future ramifications? Instead, we have two (nigh indistinguishable) parties that have made up their minds on the answer before they ever hear the specific question. This doesn't strike anyone else as Totally Verkakte?
At any rate, healthcare is the general point of this post. So here's a single healthcare story for you, broken down into salient points for easy digestion:
Wake up, America. Quit letting speculative future greed and the machinations of the economically elite crap all over you. This isn't about politics. The American Dream is more ephemeral than ever; none of us will ever know the pain of paying taxes on our millions and billions because we can't even afford our cable and cell phone bills.
The system isn't just broken. It's killing us.
I don't care what your politics are; healthcare needs to be examined and overhauled. The changes made can't come soon enough and are probably too little too late for hundreds of thousands as it is. I'm not even sure why healthcare is a matter of party allegiance. The more I see, the less sense party affiliation makes.
I assume that the point of labels like "Democrat" and "Republican" are to provide a shorthand for understanding the viewpoints of the party members. But this seems like engineered prejudice and ignorance. Shouldn't our legislators be people who weigh each issue as it appears, taking into consideration current and future ramifications? Instead, we have two (nigh indistinguishable) parties that have made up their minds on the answer before they ever hear the specific question. This doesn't strike anyone else as Totally Verkakte?
At any rate, healthcare is the general point of this post. So here's a single healthcare story for you, broken down into salient points for easy digestion:
- Exhibit A: Tax paying US citizen who has worked entire adult life.
- Citizen takes a new job, moves across country, incurs debt for relocation and increase cost of living
- Citizen is laid off from job after 6 months
- Due to this lay off, citizen loses income and health benefits
- Four weeks before lay off, citizen is diagnosed with cancer
- Citizen manages to work with doctors and staff and gets surgery and bulk of treatment done before lay off.
- However, this does not cover post op and follow up treatments. Medication is FOR LIFE. Adjustment and required testing to ensure proper medication and critical cancer repression can take up to ONE YEAR POST OP.
- Citizen is eligible for COBRA continued insurance benefits, which clock in at approx $500/month.
- Citizen is not eligible for major medical coverage or other state or federal programs, because they are "eligible" for COBRA. In addition, most "relief" programs require the participant to have an uncovered period of 6 months to a year.
- Citizen's unemployment benefits cannot cover rent and the COBRA payments. This does not factor in car payments, food, debt, utilities, gasoline, etc.
- Citizen's monthly medical bills, barring a recurrence of cancer or an unforeseen medical emergency, clock in at less than the COBRA $500/month. However, if the health insurance is allowed to lapse it can have far reaching effects. Even if the citizen gets a job with health coverage in the next three months, they could fall into the category of PRE EXISTING CONDITION. This fun little clause allows an insurance company to deny payment on services rendered for up to ONE YEAR. For example, this citizen's medication and cancer screenings could still be out of pocket for up to a year. The only way to insure this doesn't happen is to have NO LAPSES IN COVERAGE.
- Citizen now faces several critical items: recovery from major illness, job hunting in depressed economy (that's RIGHT, I SAID IT, depressed depressed depression depressed), and whether to put money towards health insurance or rent and food.
Wake up, America. Quit letting speculative future greed and the machinations of the economically elite crap all over you. This isn't about politics. The American Dream is more ephemeral than ever; none of us will ever know the pain of paying taxes on our millions and billions because we can't even afford our cable and cell phone bills.
The system isn't just broken. It's killing us.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
"Don't Stand Near Her! Bad Things Will Happen To You!"
Ah, Cow and Chicken, whatever happened to you?
Today is the Garden Party loosely based around the fact that I've come out the otherside with the whole cancer thingy.
Unfortunately, what I have yet to overcome is myself. As evidenced by the car accident I got into while on my way to the airport to pick up some friends.
No one was hurt. I used my blinker for a lane change, but didn't see the car that was apparently occupying that lane. As they say, it all happened very fast. I'm pretty certain am very at fault. It was my first real accident ever, though I must admit that I've been driving around this town feeling like I had a big X on me, just waiting for collision to occur. It's probably amazing that I haven't gotten in one before now.
*sigh*
It's times like this I wish I was rich, had a chauffeur, blah blah was-anyone-else-but-me-cakes. I now have some good friends in town, and must steel my nerves for ferrying all across this city for the next few days.
Pray, if not for me, then for all the others who stumble innocently into my swath of destruction.
Today is the Garden Party loosely based around the fact that I've come out the otherside with the whole cancer thingy.
Unfortunately, what I have yet to overcome is myself. As evidenced by the car accident I got into while on my way to the airport to pick up some friends.
No one was hurt. I used my blinker for a lane change, but didn't see the car that was apparently occupying that lane. As they say, it all happened very fast. I'm pretty certain am very at fault. It was my first real accident ever, though I must admit that I've been driving around this town feeling like I had a big X on me, just waiting for collision to occur. It's probably amazing that I haven't gotten in one before now.
*sigh*
It's times like this I wish I was rich, had a chauffeur, blah blah was-anyone-else-but-me-cakes. I now have some good friends in town, and must steel my nerves for ferrying all across this city for the next few days.
Pray, if not for me, then for all the others who stumble innocently into my swath of destruction.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Say Hello To My Little Friend
Some people will torture you with pictures of their kids. Some bust out vacation photos. I watched some of my friends use their smartphones in a nefarious attempt to share cute fuzzeh kitteh pix.
I would never stoop to such a level. Rude, boorish, and so common.
Instead . . . SCAR!PICSPAM!!!!111!!!!!!!!
So tomorrow I'm back in and hopefully getting the last of the old fashioned sutures snip-snipped. Because a little piece of those suckers sticking out of your skin is a howlingly painful moment just waiting to happen.
I would never stoop to such a level. Rude, boorish, and so common.
Instead . . . SCAR!PICSPAM!!!!111!!!!!!!!
 |
| Day 3. According to my tape measure this scar is almost exactly two inches long. Look how the dermabond glue stuff makes my skin look all crepe-y and gnarly. This is my "Frankenscar" phase. The role of my scar was played by Boris Karloff in an uncredited cameo. |
 |
| Day 8. You can see the super glue is having second thoughts about our long term relationship. |
 |
| Day 10. I held off on picking at the surgical superglue for as long as I could stand it. Turns out I can stand it for about 9 days or less. |
So tomorrow I'm back in and hopefully getting the last of the old fashioned sutures snip-snipped. Because a little piece of those suckers sticking out of your skin is a howlingly painful moment just waiting to happen.
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