textualdeviance: (Default)
Finally got in to see my reg doc to discuss the giant pile of labwork and figure out wtf is going on with me, and got a tentative diagnosis!

Doc thinks I have something called Polymyalgia Rheumatica, which was something I suspected when I first started looking into this. I'm awfully young for it--it's rare in anyone under 50--but since I have so many other oddball problems, doc thinks it's certainly possible in my case. It also often comes with a far more serious thing called Temporal Arteritis, which is inflammation of cranial arteries, but I don't have symptoms of that, so crossing my fingers it's not involved.

PMR an icky disease, but it is treatable, to a degree, and eventually goes away on its own after a few years. A long while to wait, definitely, but at least I know there's hope somewhere down the road. She's sending me to a rheumatologist to absolutely rule out anything else, and in the meantime, putting me back on prednisone, which is the primary treatment for this.

Interestingly enough, one of the common symptoms of this is anemia--particularly the microcytic/hypochromic stuff I have. Other parts of my labs rule out this being caused by actual iron deficiency. Rather, it's caused because the body's response to infection, inflammation, etc., is to hold back circulating iron to avoid feeding whatever bug is there. Theoretically, if I cure the inflammation, I can cure the anemia, too. Being able to get some energy back along with killing the pain would be fantastic. The better I feel, the easier it'll be to mind a little one when we finally get one.

Something else I also wonder: I've had many of the same symptoms, in a much milder form, for quite some time. Though sudden onset like this is possible (and may be triggered by infection or something) it also might be that I simply had a colossal flareup of something I've already had for a while. Without getting regular bloodwork to test for inflammation markers (sed rate, c-reactive protein), I would never have known about this. My ongoing aches, stiffness, etc. would be--and are--chalked up just to getting old and being fat, and everyone would think the reason I don't exercise is due to laziness, not anemia-caused exhaustion and inflammation-caused pain.

Come to think of it, it may be that I got this a year and a half ago. I remember having flu-like symptoms when we went to Dragon*Con in 2011, and feeling tired and achy ever since. I went from happily traipsing all over the UK earlier that summer to feeling utterly miserable just from walking through a grocery store now. Having this thing even back then would explain so, so much. And knowing it's treatable and limited, if annoying? Even better. It'd be fantastic to be able to be more active again. I want to go bird-stalking, dammit.

Oooh. I just got mail from the doc saying the rheumatoid factor test was negative. So that's another possibility eliminated. Looking more and more like this really is what's going on. It sucketh mightily, but knowing is half the battle, and now I do.
textualdeviance: (Default)
Good thing: the second mammo went well. Radiologist says it's prolly just a cyst. They want me back in six months, but otherwise, no worries.

Not good thing: Sometime in the last few days, I developed some weird symptoms, the biggest of which is stiffness and horrid pain in my shoulders and upper arms. Urgent care had no idea what's wrong, and the prednisone and hydrocodone they put me on isn't really helping. I go in to my reg clinic tomorrow for more followup, blood draws, etc. Not sure what they're going to find, but urgent care suggested it might be rheumatological/autoimmune. I really hope that's not the case and it's just some weird virus, but I guess I'll know soon.

In the meantime, I'm only barely functional, with drugs, because moving my arms hurts so bad I want to cry and throw up. Typing this now is possible due to two hydrocodone and a rx-strength naproxen, and it still hurts.

I've been sick for so long now, and I just want my life back, but I have a feeling that's not going to happen.

Posted via m.livejournal.com.

textualdeviance: (Default)
The end is near--of the solar year, at least, if not the world. Seems like every year, I get completely out of whack between Thanksgiving and Solstice, but then I'm finally able to put the year away this day, and enjoy the rest of the calendar without worry that I've missed something. I probably have, but I stop caring, at least. So hooray for that.

Alas that this year's December chaos was far more intense than some, and it kind of came to a head the last few days. There's a lot going on--waiting for the adoption, getting my first book prepped to pub, holiday stuff, etc., but the biggest has been health issues. The plague I got just before T-day was huge--and it's still hanging on by its filthy fingernails, causing fairly massive exhaustion and lethargy, plus on-and-off fevers. And then there's also the knee issue, which still hasn't really resolved, and which is making standing, walking and even sitting difficult.

Thinking I'd be smart and at least get in for a physical/pelvic, I did so Tuesday ... and that's when things got weird. First, I noted to the doc that the ENT folks said my headaches aren't sinus-related, and suggested that I see a neurologist. My primary, however, doesn't think that's it. Instead, she thinks I have something called idiopathic intracranial hypertension. Which is fancy words for saying there's too much fluid in my brain, and so when my BP is up--as it has been lately--there's extra pressure on my head, especially my optic nerves, causing the migraine-like symptoms I get. I go in soon to see an opthamologist to get screened for it, but I admit I'm seriously freaked out. One of the main treatments for this is a lumbar puncture to drain excess cerebro-spinal fluid. Hooray.

I also got the usual chiding about my HDL being too low and my BP edging into concern territory. And she needs me to see my endo soon, even though my A1C was basically fine. She also sent me in for a mammogram--my second, since I started last year. I'd thought the new protocol was every five years until 60, but apparently no. And, well. Good thing, because it found a lump.

(Way to bury the lede, Shawna. Sheesh.)

It's tiny--about the size of a pencil eraser--but it's big enough to feel, and doesn't have any surface disturbances to blow it off as a sebaceous cyst or something similar. Given that I have practically no risk factors (my family generally gets hypertension and diabetes, not cancer) and the thing is small, chances are it's no big deal. But I go in again the day after Christmas for a better scan + ultrasound to be absolutely sure. The location of it is also a bit concerning because it's close to my lymph nodes, so they want to confirm that it's not anything bad.

Like I say, chances are it's not. But if it is worrisome, I have absolutely no compunctions about them cutting that thing out or even hacking off the boob. I honestly couldn't care less whether I have boobs or not, so they can both go away if needed. Hell, I already straddle the line between butch and trans, so it's not like I'm going to have a problem with not feeling femme if I no longer have chesticles. And Susan G. Komen and her pink brigade can still kiss my ass, with how much money they waste on "awareness" when it could be going to research. Bleh.

At any rate ... I don't plan on dying soon, and I admit this has me scared enough that if it does turn out to be nothing, I may well get my lazy ass in gear and try to get the ol' bod a bit closer to not-fucked status. I already know there are some issues that won't ever go away, but I can probably at least get my HDL and BP in better nick, so there's that. Of course, if this turns out to be icky, the adoption is probably on permanent hold, but if it doesn't, we'll likely have a kid next year. And I'll want to make sure her non-bio mama is around long enough to see her get a few degrees and go live in space or build an underwater city or something. So there.
textualdeviance: (Default)
Last post reminded me of all the major stressors I've dealt with in the last 1-2 years:

-Job/career stagnation
-Two pets dying
-Two surgeries (and two more upcoming--part 2 & 3 of the dental surgery)
-Adoption prep and related somewhat-tight finances and partial house re-orging.
-Ongoing health issues of various sorts, including discovering that my hearing is going
-Major disappointment with the chorus thing
-Family drama
-Shitty politics (seriously: seeing how openly racist/sexist/homophobic/ableist/etc. people can be is unbelievably awful)
-Helping M manage his own job ick

There's been good stuff, too, of course: travel (though that has stress of its own), finishing my novels, etc. And I've kept myself together by diving into fandom/gaming stuff. Still ... no wonder I'm so fucking exhausted and burned out. Maybe it makes sense that all I want to do this weekend is hole up in bed and sleep. Maybe read a little. I don't think I've really given myself enough free time to just heal from all this.
textualdeviance: (Default)
Way too many maudlin, self-pity-riddled navel-gazing posts here lately. Keep meaning to get back to this as a proper, far-more-diversified blog space instead of the endless whinefest it seems to be turning into, but I keep getting distracted by other stuff. Just don't have the daily bandwidth for anything other than burst-spewing on Twitter (and occasionally FB) so it's only the long-form bellyaching that ends up here.

So! To try to remedy that, here are some actual recent highlights of the Marvelous Life of the Texty:


Started the new job: About five weeks into it, now. It's boring. Rather more so than I expected. I'm also doing a lot more of the same button-monkey stuff I did before. Kind of feel like there's been a bait-and-switch, in that I expected more content generation and editorial decision-making than has actually been happening.

That said, what I'm doing is just different enough, and my duties are just interesting and few enough, that I think I can tolerate it, at least for the short term. It's a 12-month contract, and I'm not 100% sure I can finish that out (or at least go until I'm on family leave) but I think I can at least stick with it through the summer. Which will be useful in terms of money. Which, really, is the reason I took the job in the first place (that and plugging a growing CV gap.)

The money, of course is going to help with three big things ...


Random health stuff: Got my hearing aids this past week, and have been adjusting to them over the last few days. I can't say as I actually like them just yet, since they're a really abnormal feeling to wear, but I am seeing an improvement. Actually asked M to turn down the TV today. Whoa.

Have a bunch of other little stuff that needs taking care of soon, though. New glasses. Dermatologist. Some other bits and bobs. Need to go back to the periodontist soon to get my bone graft done. By the time I get the actual implant (about a year from now) I'll probably be completely used to the giant space where that molar used to be.

The bone graft is going to cost us about $3k, and I'm sort of wondering how long I can put it off, because I'd much rather spend that money on ...


Travel: Hooray for my paychecks, because it means we're being naughty and going back to London at the end of May. Holy carp. Have been wanting to go back since the moment we left, and when it turned out that a couple of my lovelies are doing a fan event (plus the play) ... well. I kinda had to. Yes, it's not the most responsible thing I've ever done, but dammit, I want to, and I can (if barely) so I'm gonna. Yes, yes, I should sock all this money away in retirement or college funds or something, but life's pretty damn short (and my available time/energy for travel even shorter) so I may as well.

It's a much shorter trip this time--nine days as opposed to three weeks--but it'll be 90% London, with perhaps a side trip or two to Brighton and/or Cardiff (and the con, which is in a small town about an hour-ish to the north.) Very, very much looking forward to being back, and getting a little more in-depth to the things we'd only skimmed over before.

Also hitting Comic-Con this year, though Dragon*Con isn't happening, due to my missing the hotel reservation thing, plus remembering how miserable I was last year in the cloying Atlanta heat. It just completely drains me, and I end up not having any fun at all. At least with San Diego, there are some nice ocean breezes. That, and I expect Game of Thrones people to be at SDCC, and I'm dying to meet those folks.

We might do more travel after that. Not sure, yet. If we do, it'll be domestic--something where we can hop right on a plane and head back at a moment's notice if we need to. Which could, theoretically, happen, due to ...


Adoption Stuff: Hooray! We're officially on to the next phase! We have our first home study visit scheduled for mid-May. This will be the in-home thing where the social worker gets to know us better, checks off the "safe for kids" list for the house, and generally gets more of a picture of who we are, so we can start building the family profile that gets handed out to the birthfamilies. After that first meeting, there are individual meetings with each of us, then one more in-home followup. After that, assuming all the paperwork and such is in, then we finally get to enter the waiting pool!

Then starts the interminable wait. Last we talked to our counselor, she said the average wait was actually getting just a little longer, too: about a year for most, and 14+ months for same-sex couples (I assume we'll be on the far end of that, what with the openly queer thing.) Eep. Still, I'm guessing we'll be in the pool by the end of June at the latest, and might well be in adoption planning a year from now. Really, it all comes down to whether we look interesting enough to a birthmom. It's kind of like matchmaking: never know if you're going to be sitting around forever because no-one wants to dance, or whether that one, perfect mate is going to show up right off the bat.

Still, knowing that we're qualified, and just waiting to be picked--which will happen eventually--will be very nice. And I can certainly keep myself busy in the meantime, what with the job--if I can tolerate it that long--mucking around in the back yard, and maybe more ...


Writing: Still waiting to get feedback from some beta readers for the novel, though M and D both loved it. Once I hear back from more folks, I'm going to work in whatever suggestions they give me, and then get it polished up for agent shopping.

I'd been considering shopping the first one around, but the more I think about it, the more I like this one better. Have more ideas for sequels, too. Also like its publishing chances better. No clue, of course, whether it'll get picked up, but I hope so. I'd rather have the resources of a proper editor and publisher than to try to self-publish and market it on my own. Self-publishing is easy, but rarely lucrative, because it's so hard to get your book noticed when it doesn't have the resources of a proper marketing team.

Have also been writing quite a lot more on my quasi-legit blog, including a piece on online socialization, and a bunch of yammering on about TV shows and social responsibility. Do similar stuff over on my Tumblr these days, but with more shameless fanthing drooling over picspams and other general flailing about ...


Fandom life: Pretty darn busy right now, actually. In addition to my barely-coherent glee now that Game of Thrones is back on, I've been watching Eureka, The Borgias, Grimm, Fringe, Lost Girl and Criminal Minds. The big portion of my fanthing time, though, is going toward all the news and such for the Primeval spinoff that's filming in Vancouver right now. Got a chance to go up there for a con last weekend and see a panel with the new cast. They all seem like really nice folks, and I'm hopeful that the end product for this will be worth it for us fans of the original show. I think it's in good hands, at least.


... and that's about it, really. Sleeping, working, writing, cooking, tending to the critters and the house, watching dorky TV shows, reading ... The usual. It's been pleasantly calm this month as opposed to the giant shitstorm from the end of last month. Hoping May is equally bland-but-satisfying.
textualdeviance: (Default)
Been thinking a lot--well, more than usual--about discrimination and bigotry and other such things lately. Most of this has to do with the controversy around the HBO show "Girls" which is pretty much self-deprecation porn for pampered, white urban hipsters. (See my quasi-legit blog for more babble on that.)

Have also been thinking about my own stuff on this. I tend to focus mostly on the three big things--size, orientation, gender--I get the most crap for, but there's really quite a lot of other stuff, too.

In particular, I've been thinking more about my various health crap, and reconsidering whether I need to think of myself as someone with disabilities. I've avoided that concept for a long time, because I've always thought it was presumptuous to think of my "minor" issues that way when others suffer so much more, but ... dang. I really do have one hell of a laundry list of stuff that gets in the way of having a normal life. I've managed quite a lot of it, and am considerably more capable now than I was 10 years ago, but I still do have some very real limitations. Now that I'm wearing hearing aids (as of yesterday's fitting for them) there's one more to add.

Authentication failed: Access to services denied )

It sucks that there are so many areas in which people can fall through the cracks. If you're able to help yourself even a little, people assume you don't need any help at all, and that's just not right. You shouldn't have to be completely fucked in life in order for people to want to help you. Of course the people who are completely fucked need help, but so do people whose fuckedness isn't entirely complete. Someone earning minimum wage still needs help to get by even though they have a job. Just being able to stand and move your legs doesn't mean you can climb eight flights of stairs to get to a workplace.

I realize that if I start thinking of myself as a person with disabilities, there may be people with more serious ones who think I'm being obnoxious about it. But I suspect the reason they'd think that is that they've come to believe that justice and aid are limited commodities, and therefore only the people who need them the most ought to be helped.

But I don't think that's the case. In terms of how we manage social services budgets, for instance, yes, we need that kind of triage. But the reason that's so fucked is because the people holding the purse strings have for decades tried to convince us that unless you're entirely incapable of caring for yourself, you can do your own bootstrapping. Our concept of charity is completely bass-ackwards. We give handouts to the people who are in desperate need, and then don't actually do the hand-UP aid necessary to help people help themselves. Somehow, the teaching a man to fish principle has been completely lost, and our culture only supports those who have their own fishing fleets and those who can't even hold a rod. That's so incredibly broken.

It unnerves me that I'm so conflicted about thinking about myself this way. I've obviously been pickled by the same poisoned brine as the people who would deny me help. But I can't exactly expect them to change their minds about me if I don't change my mind about myself. Maybe if I stop expecting myself to do things at the same level as people who don't have my limitations, I'll become more confident about asking others not to have the same expectations of me.
textualdeviance: (Whole Lotta WTF)
In the past four days:


-Had our first proper intake meeting yesterday with the adoption agency counselor we'll be working with. It went quite well, I think. She seemed to like us. Next step is getting the home study together. Should have that wrapped up within the next month.
-Killed time between appointments yesterday by wandering around Pike Place Market. Haven't done that in years. Came home with tons of awesome from DeLaurenti's and other food purveyors.

Sorta good:

-Finally got a new job. Start Tuesday. Sort of my old team, but under a different boss, working on a different product, and doing something with more editorial/writing stuff. Less button monkey = probably won't want to set the place on fire. It's a 12-month contract. Not sure if I'll finish that out. Depends on how well I like it and how long we're waiting for a birthmom to pick us.
-Money, CV fodder and something to keep me occupied during the wait = good. Extremely fucked-up timing in the short term = bad. See below.


-Got a hard-drive-mangling virus. Necessitated a reformat, which meant scrambling to back up data. Just barely starting to reconstruct the machine now.
-Called in the washer repair folks for the THIRD time, since the thing still wouldn't properly spin.
-Found out I have "mild but significant" hearing loss. Will be fitted for hearing aids Monday.


-Penny went into sharp decline, and we decided to let her go. In-home vet was here just a few hours ago. It was peaceful and kind, and I'm glad I was able to be with her, but I'm pretty shattered. Also, all grieved out at this point, having lost four cats in five years. Glad the remaining two are young.
-Khaleesi, freaked out by Penny, decided to pee on the bed last night (this is very unusual for her--she's normally quite well behaved.)
-This woke M up, so he's had 3 hours of sleep.
-I've not had a full night's sleep in three days, either, due to raging anxiety induced by all of the above.

I really wish my body could handle alcohol, because I'm tempted to spend this entire weekend very, very drunk.
textualdeviance: (Default)
Thanks to a friend's q on FB, I think I nailed down why I hate exercising for its own sake:

If my brain doesn't have something else to focus on, the only thing I can think of is how much pain I'm in and how exhausted I am. Walking around for an hour shopping, birding or sightseeing? I don't notice as much, until I'm finally in the car and it hits me all at once. Walking around for an hour for its own sake? I'd never get through it.

No, it's not laziness or self-indulgence, thanks. )

I realize I look like I'm going to drop dead any second because many people my size are in truly dire shape. Those who gained their weight by eating garbage and never moving at all have undoubtedly done other harm to their bodies that shows up in the numbers that matter. But I've made it to 40 without going diabetic or having enormously high cholesterol and BP, and I feel better now than I ever did when I was trying to do it the "right" way.

I don't smoke, don't drink, don't do caffeine or mammal flesh. I do low-fat dairy and heart-healthy cooking fats. I get plenty of protein, fiber and calcium. I take vitamins to correct for various deficiencies. I am, even at my size, probably living a healthier lifestyle than the vast majority of Americans at ANY size. But I don't "diet" and I don't "work out" and I never will again, because I already know that doing those things will make me worse, not better, and also make me miserable in the meantime.

It's entirely possible that as I continue to improve my overall health, some weight may slowly--very slowly--come off over the years. But it ain't going away entirely, and it ain't happening on a short schedule. I am, for all intents and purposes, going to be this size, or close to it, for probably the rest of my life. This is what I have, and this is what I'm working with. And I AM working with it, even if small-minded, prejudiced people think otherwise.

I just wish there were an easier way to tell this to the world--to get them to trust that I DO know my body quite well, and manage it in the way that gets the best results for me. Because the constant body hate in my culture is the one thing that's making me sicker than anything else.
textualdeviance: (*headdesk*)
Sometimes, it kind of irritates me when fellow big folks lose weight.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for them if they can do this without hurting themselves, but unfortunately, it tends to make others assume that if one of us can do this, surely we all can. Which, of course, means that those of us who aren't doing it clearly just don't care and therefore are fair game for nastiness. Bleh.

Thing is, we're not all the same. What works for one person may not work for another. And it may even make things worse for some (hello, victim of low-fat dieting.) Humans are an incredibly diverse species, and the particular assortment of genes and environmental factors that make each of our bodies what they are is unique.

But because there's so much misinformation out there (even from doctors--most GPs know jack about endocrinology and brain chemistry), everyone thinks that whatever worked for their Aunt Susie is clearly the magic pill that will work for everyone. And therefore, if you're not on that magic pill, you're obviously making a poor choice, and can therefore be judged.

I don't grudge fat folks who get un-fat, really. As long as they don't start bragging or getting self-righteous about it, and understand how weight-loss talk can be triggering for folks with eating disorders, fair enough. Frankly, if they came up with a magic pill that did work with my body's particular weirdness, I'd take it. It's not exactly fun being this size even beyond the social bullshit it earns me.

But if you or someone you know did get un-fat, please don't assume that whatever method was involved is going to work for me or anyone else. One size does not fit all, y'know?
textualdeviance: (Default)
Six weeks into my summer sabbatical, and enjoying it, for the most part. Currently parked in the back yard on a lovely afternoon enjoying the fresh air and sunshine and birdsong and dragonflies and bumblebees. And my spiffy laptop and our awesome wireless. ;) There's something really calming about having my own green space to chill out in--at least when the weather's nice. Even enjoying doing a bit of tending of my little kitchen garden. This year, in addition to the herbs, we have tomatoes, two kinds of peppers, lemon cucumbers, yellow watermelon, Hubbard squash and raspberries, blueberries and strawberries. Oh, and a little tree that's supposed to produce something called a limequat. So far, the only thing that we've harvested is strawberries--the plant we have is very prolific--but we have tomatoes and peppers growing, the blueberry bush is absolutely bursting with stuff that should be ripening in the next few weeks, and everything else has at least flowered. Hoping there's enough summer left to get at least something out of most of them.


I think I've gotten past the initial panic about not having enough time to do everything before I have to go back to work/start raising a youngun (more on that in a bit), so now I'm just taking it easy and doing what I want/need to do as the mood strikes me.

Writing, family, kid-buying, blah blah )


Gotta admit: I'm actually enjoying 40 so far. It's kind of like having a license to not give a shit what the world thinks anymore. Yeah, they still do care, but I'm out to pasture as far as the must-be-decorative pressure goes just based on age alone, so the rest of it doesn't matter as much. I think I've been a brassy old broad since I was 20. Nice to finally be the right age for it. :)
textualdeviance: (Default)
Hit the ground running as soon as we got back, and have barely had time to think, let alone properly sleep. It caught up with me Wednesday, and I ended up working from home--and doing rather awfully with it--due to sleep-deprived delirium. Conking out soon and plan to veg in the theater all day tomorrow with our massive DVR and Netflix backlog.


The vacay reports (and there will be one last one when I remember to pull the remaining pics) are up for your perusal (scroll back a few entries.) Long story short if you don't want the slog: It was great, I loved it, but I don't think I'll be moving there. Like home better. :)


Two more work weeks before I hit the end of my contract. There's a small chance of a few weeks' extension because one of my eds wants me around for Comic-Con coverage, but that probably won't happen. Technically, I have another four months before I have to take my mandatory break, and my agency might well find me something short for then, but honestly, I think I'd rather have the rest of the summer off. I need a chance to breathe and get my head back on correctly and do some of the big projects I've been putting off.


One of said big projects is the adoption thing, though that's... sort of up in the air right now. Details )


One thing we most likely will do in the meantime is get another kitten. It's been horribly empty being just a two-cat household since Fammy died, and poor, ancient Penny is getting pestered by Otter all the time because he's bored and lonely. But with me working, we didn't want to introduce a new furbaby without having someone around to mind it through the chaotic adjustment period. Free time for me, though, means kitten-sitting is possible, so we'll probably go shelter-crawling in the next few weeks. We considered a dog, but with the baby thing still a possibility, we didn't want to go that high-maintenance. So, kitten (or maybe even a 1-2 year old) it is.


Feeling slightly maudlin about the end of my show in a couple of weeks. Likely to be the last series of it, unless its primary backer gets good ratings when it airs this series in January. Seems unlikely at this point. And even if it did come back, most of the cast I love might not come with it. So just two more episodes, and then I get to cry a lot. I have a ton of other stuff I love, of course (have really gotten into Game of Thrones in particular), but this is the first thing since LOTR that I've loved enough to join a fandom for, and the fandom itself has been great, too. It'll still exist after the show's gone, of course, but it won't be quite the same, and that concept breaks my heart. :(


And on that depressing note, I'm done for the day. Hasta la pasta, and if you want more of me in the meantime, go stalk me on Twitter.
textualdeviance: (ovaries)
As a side note to my surgery thing...

Dealing with this issue has made it abundantly clear to me exactly how important it is to keep fighting for abortion, contraception and other reproductive health rights.

Here's why: )

So there it is in a nutshell. Having access to a full range of reproductive health care is what's kept me alive all these years, and what will continue to do so now.

It's true that some anti-abortion activists make exceptions for life/health of mother, but I think very few of them truly understand exactly how complicated these things can get, and how legislation on this stuff just gets in the way, and can literally be the difference between life and death for a woman in crisis. Even legislation that seems somewhat fair on the surface--like conscience clauses for pharmacists--can turn an unfortunate-but-livable situation into a tragedy pretty damned fast.

Men who fight this stuff I get. Most of them have no clue whatsoever how women's bodies actually work, and even if they're married or have sisters or daughters, they're usually the kind of guy who doesn't want to be around when their kids are born, who make stupid PMS jokes and who would patently refuse to buy tampons. (And frankly: If you're married to/dating a guy like this? Dump his ass. Even being alone is better than being with someone who thinks you're a second-class citizen because you don't have a dick.)

But women? IDGI. I just don't get why any woman would fight against reproductive health rights. I spose some women who have always been regular and never had a complicated pregnancy may just blow this stuff off, and assume that access to abortion and contraception is someone else's problem. They figure that if they're not being promiscuous, these issues will never be a problem for them.

They're wrong.

Even the healthiest, most chaste woman can have something go wrong at any time, and if you think you don't know a woman who's ever had to face this stuff, well, hi. You do now. Even if you're not specifically anti-abortion, if you're voting for politicians who support anti-abortion legislation, you're voting against my health. And if you vote for these people because you think bombing brown folks or saving the rich a few bucks on taxes is so much more important than the risk of me or any other woman suffering or dying because we have fucked-up ladybits? Then please, piss completely off.

The bottom line is this: This is a medical issue, not a political one. Each reproductive health problem is as individual as the woman dealing with it, and therefore absolutely no one but that woman and her healthcare providers should have any say in it at all. Blanket legislation that restricts access to this care in any way doesn't just punish stereotypical Jezebels (who, by the way, are just as entitled to proper healthcare as anyone else), but turns women like me into collateral damage in that war.
textualdeviance: (skwirls)
Isn't that what happens when one gets microwaved? Yeah.

So, about the surgery )

Actually kind of surprised about how good I feel at the moment, but still not going to be running marathons anytime soon. Planning to dick around with some intarweebs/UK trip business this morning, and then go park in the theater. Hoping work is slow the rest of the week, too.

Won't know for a while yet exactly how effective the procedure was--results are a little different for everyone--but as far as I can tell right now, that nasty midsection badger should be well euthanized. Really looking forward to a future without that kind of pain ever again. Of course, I still have all my other health problems to deal with, but knowing that this particular one is more or less dealt with permanently is quite a relief.
textualdeviance: (Default)
Or at least it would be if I hadn't woken up around 3:30, thanks to pain from the pre-surgery meds details )

Off to the hospital, now. Hope they give me the good drugs when it's done. Plan to sleep like whoa when I get back, so will probably be incommunicado for a while.

So, if I don't see you, good afternoon, good evening and good night. ;)
textualdeviance: (Default)
I just now realized that Mother's Day is the day before my surgery. I.e., the day before I say goodbye to ever bearing children. Theoretically, since my ovaries won't be affected, I could use a gestational carrier and still have bio kids, but since my stoopid eggs wouldn't get fertilized in the first place, and the fertility clinic basically refused to do egg extraction on me anyway, that's not an option. So any future kids I obtain are going to be someone else's. I've known this for a while, now, of course, but it's still kind of hard to swallow. It would help if my stupid culture wasn't so bloody obsessed with bio mothers, as if they're the only people in the world capable of being proper parents.


Speaking of the surgery, I had my pre-op consult for it yesterday, and they confirmed that they're knocking me entirely out. I'm a little worried about this (anesthesia is the reason the clinic refused to work on me, after all) but mostly, I'm just not looking forward to waking up. The last time I did general, I was horribly miserable when I came to: Thirsty, headachy, confused, scared, etc. Nastiness.

Also not looking forward to the drug I need to take the night before, as it's supposed to cause horrible cramps. Yaye.


Fortunately, I shall have glorious fandom goodness to distract me from all this, as there's a premiere event going on Sunday at which a fandom friend will be. There will be pics, I hope! Also still hoping there will be some folks at the event I'm going to at the end of the month, too. They haven't announced many guests at all, yet, so I'm still hopeful. Would kinda suck to spend 3 weeks traipsing around the show's home countries and not see at least someone from it. I'll be seeing some filming locations, of course, but that's not quite the same as real live humans. :)


My fannish creative muses came back. In hordes. In the last 10 days, I've written 9 fics (about 20k words) and put together a new vid (which I'm also retooling a bit for submission to a Dragon*Con fanvid contest.) Amazing what happens when new promo material gets me salivating. ;)


Good thing I've kept myself creatively busy, though. Got turned down by the first agent. Sigh... I kinda wondered if that might happen, though, as she's mostly doing modern fantasy/paranormal right now, and my thing is definitely a traditional fantasy setting, even if its plot and themes are less so. Will go hunting for other agents when we get back from our trip.


Semi-related, I was realizing yesterday that each decade of my life has some fairly clear definitions, in terms of a snapshot of who I was/what was important to me. 0-10 was school/reading/being a tomboy, 10-20 was school/politics/socializing/radio, 20-30 was school/performing/socializing/sorting out my love life, 30-40 was fandom/journalism/establishing a home/getting money sorted. What's 40-50 going to be? Not entirely sure, yet, but I think it may be novel-writing/parenting. And then probably add travel into that for my 50s. Not a bad life, I guess. At least I didn't spend most of it (so far) intoxicated or in jail.


Some of the above epiphany comes courtesy of the electronic attic-cleaning I've been doing the last couple of days. I've had several layers of poorly-filed crap sitting around in my docs folder for years. Most of it's from multiple backups, so there's a lot of duplicate and frankly useless crap in there I've been sorting through. And because I'm an idiot, I can't easily tell what most of these are about just by their titles, so I'm having to open them up and scan. And some of my old writings and such? Good grief.

I think for most of my 20s, I was dead convinced that if I didn't have a ton of lovers, it meant I was pathetic and useless. Granted, I'm still a randy little perv even now (hi, fanfic?) but I'm also not falling in lust with my friends all the time. Still a bit here and there, but not to the ridiculous degree it used to be. I think the difference is that while the libido is still there, the desperate need for approval isn't anymore. At least not that way. These days I'm pining away more for the approval of agents: writers' and adoption. Whether people consider me fuckable is of far less importance to me now than whether they consider me creatively skilled and good parenting material.

Which, I suppose, is one of the benefits of being near 40. Frankly, I don't think I'd ever want to go back to that state of being again. Feeling like my entire identity and self-worth was dependent on whether I was attractive enough was horrid. Still feel like that a lot now, but it's not as big a deal as it was then, at least. That monkey is still clinging to my back, but it's at least losing its grip, which is a damned nice feeling. I just feel sorry for the millions of other young women still beating themselves up every day because shallow idiots don't think they're decorative enough.


At any rate, this all kind of feels like I'm going away to the UK for some sort of major personality overhaul or something. Like I'm going to undergo some sort of rite of passage and come back a totally different person, and be ready for the next phase of my life. Which may be true. Three weeks of being 5,000 miles from home might give me a good and necessary brain scrubbing. We'll see whether I'm a Whole New Me come mid-June.
textualdeviance: (Default)
In a bit of a holding pattern right now, as I wait for various things to happen...

17 days until my surgery

Feeling slightly weird about that, since it's a definitely-never-getting-preggers thing. Also feels weird for other reasons. TMI )


29 days until we leave for the UK invasion tour

Doing the final prep for it: buying new luggage, clothes and other sorts of supplies, and making sure we have maps and lists of stuff we wanna do. Downright giddy for it, though also nervous about various logistics issues (TSA, customs, schlepping luggage, driving, etc.) No word yet on whether any of my peeps are going to be at the con we're going to, but they haven't released guest lists at all, yet, so there's that. Also pinged one of the folks in question about it today. Not that he'll likely answer, the silly flake.


40 days until I turn 40

Debating whether to throw some sort of bon voyage/damn I'm getting old/hooray for surgery party before we leave.


5 months until M gets a big ol' raise.

The Company announced today that they're restructuring pay for most product-group folks, which includes the Mster. This is, of course, good news--never going to turn down additional money, especially with impending sprog expenses. But it's also kind of frustrating for me, because the amount of increase he's likely to get (raise + bonus) will probably be in the same vicinity as the amount I make each year (what with working 6-9 months/year.) Basically, his raise is going to make my working redundant. Yeah, I'll probably still work (after taking some time off for the new sprog) but it's still depressing to know that my 40-hour weeks are worth less than a quarter of M's. I work just as hard as he does and have far more education, but because my skillset isn't as rare as his, he gets the big bucks and I don't. Meh. Maybe someday I'll have a Real Career of some sort instead of just this boring button monkey shit. Disproportionate pay wouldn't matter so much if I was really doing something I love.


21 days since I sent a query to an agent

The agent in question is pretty much the best person to pitch my novel to (in the kinds of stuff she's looking for), so I'm crossing my fingers. She supposedly responds to every query, so no news is probably somewhat good news in that she either a) hasn't gotten to it yet or b) hasn't rejected it out of hand. Not entirely sure what to do next if she does reject it, but no sense in dwelling on that now.

Looking forward to getting some feedback from my beta readers on it, too (and if you're not one and would like to be one, holla.)


16 days since I posted any new fic (and more than a month since the one before that.)

After finishing the novel, my creative-writing jones has basically gone on holiday. I'm doodling a bit here and there--making tweaks to the novel as I think of them, and spitting out a few paragraphs on various fics--but otherwise, nada. The non-fiction muse seems to be in good order, as I finished off two big projects for work, and have written nine lengthy posts on the new semi-pro blog, but the completely-making-stuff up muse is AWOL. Hmph.

Part of this, I spose, is the post-partum novel thing. I'm holding my breath waiting to see what the world thinks of my new baby before I go breeding more. Also, the TMI stuff is making me somewhat disinclined to write naughty things, so there's that. I imagine I'll get back to it eventually--maybe when there's new series 5 stuff to perk me up again.


5 hours since I last ate anything

Which prolly means I should go do something about that. Ciao for now.
textualdeviance: (ovaries)
Had another appointment with the ladybits doc this morning. They did another ZOMFG test, since the last one didn't get enough of a sample. Even doped up on vicodin, it still hurt like hell, but this doc was quicker than the last one, so it was thankfully over fast.

Much better than that, however, is that we now have a plan! Cut for gory details )

They're about 3-4 weeks out on their surgery schedule, so it'll be a bit before this can get done. In the meantime, the industrial-strength hormones do seem to be working, so they're going to keep me on that until about a week before the surgery. Then I do an ultrasound so they can decide what kind of procedure to do. Recovery time should be fairly short, so barring any complications, I should be well healed by the time our trip comes around. Hot damn!

Oh, also, she said the rest of my abdominal ultrasound came out fine. So basically, there are just two problems I've had in the last ~week--the kidney infection and this--and both are getting dealt with. In a few weeks, I should feel better than I have in ages.
textualdeviance: (Matt Raptor Jesus)
The clinic finally mailed me the results from last Thursday's test. I DID have an infection, TYVFM.

So glad the ladybits doc is 1,000% better than that asshat was. If I had to face that kind of sneering condescension from someone wishing to poke around on my hoochie, I'd probably have committed a felony by now.

Speaking of said ladybits doc: They scheduled another appointment for me for tomorrow to talk to me about the results of all of yesterday's tests. I suspect that visit will also involve a repeat of the ZOMFG test, though. I will, however, be hopped up on vicodin this time. Yay for M being back home and driving me there.

Had a rather nasty day back at work. Have had two doses of the industrial-strength hormones, but they haven't kicked in, yet. So, I'm still wracked with pain and queasiness, and have a bonus headache, too. Finally started feeling a teensy bit better late this afternoon, but I'm still about to go pass out for a while.

I'll eventually post about something other than my fucked-up health. Promise.
textualdeviance: (ovaries)
So, I worked last night (awards show thang), and barely survived it. The ladybits stuff that started Friday has been getting progressively worse and more ouchie, and as of this morning, I was actually crying with the pain. Which pretty much never happens, because I consider myself far too butch for that shit. I reserve my crying for maudlin self-pity and emotionally manipulative scenes in movies, dammit.

Cut for the squeamish )

Will find out more about what the hell is going on sometime tomorrow, I expect. Hoping they don't want to do another biopsy on me because AFJKLAGKJASFHGIOHGOD!!!!!!!!!!!! But, w'ev. At this point, I just want this to stop, and whatever they want to do to me to make that happen, I'm in favor of. As long as I also can have drugs.

In the meantime, the doc also gave me a scrip for industrial-strength progesterone (they usually give this stuff to cancer patients--that's how awesome it is.) Hoping it works, because I'm fucking tired of the pain and the interruption to my life and work schedule, and I DO NOT want this stupid shit getting in the way of my vacation next month.


textualdeviance: (Default)

April 2017



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