I’m Sorry

I’m sorry I don’t write anymore.  I’m just waiting for the day where my days aren’t measured by the spoonful.  I’m waiting to find the words to explain what the hell is happening to me.  I’m not doing ok, but I’ll live through it.

A Klutz With Fibromyalgia

ER Doctor: So what did you do to your wrist?
Me:I tripped over a kid, not my own, and braced my fall with it.
Dr: Ow!  And you did this today (Late Thursday)?
Me: No… Sunday afternoon.
Dr: And you’re just coming in?
Me: Well, I’m a klutz with fibromyalgia.  If I came in every time something hurt, I’d never leave!
Dr: *chuckling* Well, it’s good you know this about yourself.  We have plenty of repeats who don’t.
Me: Exactly.  I figured I had just sprained or strained it as usual, stabilized it, and have taken Ibuprofen for pain and swelling.  But 4 days later it’s getting worse and not better so I figured now it’s time to make sure I’m not being stupid.
Dr: Makes sense.  Alright, let’s get some x-rays.

30 minutes, if that, passes

Dr: Alright you have a hairline fracture about here. *points to where thumb meets wrist* I’m going to wrap it for you and refer you to an ortho for follow-up to see if you need an actual cast.

And scene

Ah yes. Fibromyalgia: Where you can fracture a bone in your hand and just live with it for 4 days before getting it checked because you’ve had worse pain so how bad can this be.

Life Changing Breakthrough in One Scene

And ACTION!

Karen Marrs
According to the internet I’m part banana. And you could be up to 10% more or less banana than I.
http://www.funnyjunk.com/funny_pictures/4794434/Bananana/
Karen Marrs
You know, fuck opening a practice… I should go into the research side of things. Genetics, etc.
What DNA marker, if any, makes a person more predisposed to depression, etc? What can be done about it? Science is headed towards fucking with DNA to “fix” people, so why not play my role as a scientist?
http://www.cnn.com/2014/02/26/health/ivf-mitochondria/index.html?sr=fb022614threeparentbabies9p
It took them awhile but scientific research lead to the discovery of the correlation between the veins in the hands and fibro, now scientists have to decide how to use that knowledge to fix fibro for good.
I could do that shit!
Patrick Marrs
DNA = Chem -nods- you would be good at Chem
Karen Marrs
I slept through high school chem. It was at like 8AM. You do the math. Or I showed up late because I “missed my bus”, with Starbucks in hand. But shit, the Starbucks right there at and was walking distance from my high school. If they had given me means to buy coffee, real coffee, at school, I wouldn’t have been late to chem and I might have actually stayed awake.
Karen Marrs
If I did go into research my degrees in business would be pointless. I mean, I’m still getting my bachelors in that because that is useful no matter the field. Even science is a business, sadly. But I could do right from this bachelors to my doctorates. I need to rethink everything. I mean, I want to help people and with my own practice I could do that, but think of the people I could help on the research side of things? I could do what the big bang characters do, only at OSU.
Karen Marrs
And, here is where I go vain. Most people are right-brained or left-brained. I’m both. How many research scientists can claim that?  How many can really think logically AND creatively. Scientific research could use more creative thinking. When logic just doesn’t seem to be working, I’m really good at thinking outside the box. Fuck, my box doesn’t even exist!9:14 PM
My bachelors in business, my masters in psychology, then pre-med, then med. Then I go from there.
Patrick Marrs
This conversation is smarter than me which tells me that whatever you decide will be well-informed and ‘right’.
Karen Marrs
Holy hell
This feels so right!

And SCENE!

You’re Not Writing!

Actually, I am.  Just not here.  And it’s mostly poetry.

I’m not exactly doing well at the moment.  I mean, I don’t feel depressed and I’m not suicidal or any of that crap.  I just can’t get out of bed most days.

Logic tells me that’s depression.  It’s weird being depressed, showing so many signs of depression, without feeling overly sad.  I think, honestly, I’m too tired and lethargic to feel much of anything but tired and lethargic.

I really need to talk to my meds doctor about it but I missed my last appointment due to hitting a pot hole (read: sink hole) with the car and shredding two tires and rims.  It was glorious.  And by glorious I mean a pain in the ass.  Luckily we were already planning new tires and rims with the tax return that showed up a couple of days later, but… I missed an important appointment.

I’m not even sure what to really say to her.  ”Hi, I’m not sad but I’m not exactly living.”

But then, in many ways I am living.  When I have the energy to partake in life I really enjoy it.  Pat and I went to the ballet a week or so ago.  We saw their interpretation of Alice in Wonderland.  The day before that we went to a friend’s art show at a gallery.  When I can find the energy I make the most of it.  The catch is a slept for 48 hours leading up to and following those 48 hours of energy burst.  96 hours in bed to be able to have 48 hours of normal life is fucked up math.

And I’m getting 105% in math, so I know my math.

Anyway, I’m writing over on my new tumblr blog.  It’s mostly poetry but then, not really.  It’s whatever the hell I want it to be.  There are no rules, no restrictions, no structure.  So it currently fits what I need for my writing.  You’ll notice a theme, should you read.

I loss someone recently.  Not someone I’ve discussed on here.  I don’t want to talk about it.  Not the details, anyways.  They are private to the two of us.  I’ll leave it that.

So, the tumblr: Shakespeare She Is Not

 

Him

You got the best of me
Rest of me
Tried and true test of me
I lied for you
Cried for you
A piece of me died for you
I wasn’t good enough
Understood enough
I knew I’d withstood enough
You took your leave that day
Slipped away
No words of goodbye to say
You left a shattered heart
Torn apart
Tears won’t stop when they choose to start

In A World

In a world where beauty is the first thing noted.

In a world full of world full of words like: beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, cute, adorable, sexy, etc.

In a world where intelligence seems to be the afterthought.  They’ll notice your tits before they notice how you can foil out those binomials.

In a world where really complimenting someone on their intelligence, well, “smarty pants” is filled with sarcasm.

Try this one for size:

Injeni (adj) [in-jee-nee] -  Magically intelligent.
I.E. Einstein was injeni, as is Neil deGrasse Tyson.

And if you like it, follow this link here and like it there.  Pass it on.  Share it with your injeni friends.  A certain Wyld Tree Ogre I know and hold in the highest esteem (because he is rather injeni) would really appreciate it.  As would I.

911 What’s Your Emergency

I woke up a week ago to the worst headache I’ve ever had and a neck I could barely move.  Now, I’m use to headaches but not like this.

Never the less, I went on to my Math class that night thinking little of it.  It wasn’t until I got home after math, and was freezing no matter what I did, that I decided to take my temperature.

Pushing 102 degrees.

Yikes.

The following morning when I couldn’t get my fever below 101, I went on to the hospital with Pat as my escort.

Sure enough they thought what I thought and I got a lovely spinal tap.  And by lovely what I mean is the doctor did a beautiful job and I was only in extreme pain from it like I was supposed to be and not because he messed up.  Because, you know, drawing spinal fluid out hurts like hell.  For the record.  No need to go and get one yourself  as proof.  Unless that’s how you get your kicks.

The good news is it wasn’t meningitis.

Before, during, and after the tap I was given a lovely course of antibiotics via an IV and I woke the next morning feeling lovely except for the back pain from the tap.

But I was given perc for that.

The moral of the story is: When you go to an ER complaining of an extreme headache, stuff neck, light sensitivity and a fever over 100, they are going to take you very seriously.  So seriously, in fact, that you are most likely getting a needle through the spin.  And if you do that without complaint beyond, “I’m going to puke, I’m going to puke, I’m going to puke,” they know you really are sick.

A Tisket A Tasket

School is going.  I’m doing quite well, but the classes I’m taking are college writing and Math.  So they were going to go well. Should help pad my GPA for when the going gets tough.  I did realize, much to my delight, that now that I’m full-time I’m eligible for the Dean’s List.  I look forward to my placement this trimester.  You hear confidence because there is no reason I won’t.

I enjoy my Math class being in an actual classroom.  I think I might make a point of one in-class a trimester.  It gets me out of the house in a healthy setting and fashion.  I’m in a place where I’m looking to meet people for various reasons.  Don’t look at me like that, I don’t sleep with every hand I shake.  Not even a notable fraction.

Speaking of… I’ve been on a few first and follow-up dates.  I’ve been stood up a few times.  I had one guy who looked promising end up not being promising.  That sucked.  Though the fashion in which that spiraled out, his loss.  I just recently had another first date also promising with a second date on the horizon.  I still maintain I’m looking for a best friend first and foremost.  The rest is just what it is or isn’t.

Speaking of best friends there is someone a true best friend whom has been there for me as long as I’ve known him and he is so exactly perfect in what I need and what I’m looking for.  But it isn’t to be.  At least I still have that friendship and he is the standard I will hold every other guy on the planet to.  But sometimes… I really wish he could be.  I know I see him as a white knight but in over 2 years and countless tests I’ve never been presented with a hint of a reason not to.  Even Pat supports this friendship though the depths of it are mine and mine alone.  I assume Pat knows I have feeling there.  I don’t have to discuss it with him.  Pat knows my heart.  But even without official discussion, Pat, if he should read this, is nodding along in agreement.  He knows how deeply I care for this person.  And he knows this person is good for me.  And he supports this friendship like he supports me breathing oxygen.  I write this in fear that the other person could someday read this and question if I can be trusted.  I write this knowing trust would never be betrayed.  I write this knowing I wish he would read it and find support where I’m willing to bet he never suspected.  I can’t know for sure but it’s a safe assumption.  I know my husband and my husband knows me.  I am great with secrets but Pat is great with me.

So I dally on with first dates, last dates.  First kisses, last kisses.  Being stood up, and losing hours to unexpected conversation.  Comparing them all to the one who won’t be.

And I’m happy with Pat.  I know the past decade has been rocky, but this feels right.  Not because I get to fuck around, because I’m not, but because this brings me a spark to Pat.  If anything, in my quest to show Pat he is my number one man, I’m looking for new and exciting ways to show him my affections.  In his quest to remind me what I have in him, he’s being the man I always wanted but never realized I had.  He would be doing this anyway, I would be doing this anyway, but this element of the open marriage keeps that spark lit as we are on our toes to never forget the partner that really matters.

We’ve been to the art museum twice, once with the 10-year-old.  He took me to see The Princess Bride on the big screen.  The local theater showed it one showing only.  We giggled together in advance of the scenes we knew were coming.  We spoke along in parts, not the only one in a theater full of fans to do so.  We are going to an art gallery for Valentine’s day.  I have the most romantic thing I’ll ever pull off, planned for late valentines, early anniversary.  I’m excited to romance Pat and be romanced by Pat.

And yes, I’m excited to be in the dating world, even when it has me not wanting to leave my bed from time to time because I got dumped in the most childish way ever.  But I’m out there having fun.  And I don’t mean *nudge nudge wink wink* fun.  I mean the fun of getting out there and meeting people and just leaving the damn house, fun.

Feeling desired and attractive and young and vibrant helps too.  This helps my self-confidence more than it hurts it.  I can’t take getting stood up too personally.  But I’m actually starting to learn I might actually be kind of not ugly.

And that’s been 30 years in coming.

So if you want to know what I’ve been up to in the new year, I’d have to say the answer is reading, studies, and dates.  Good and bad.

I Can’t Feel My Tongue

If there is one flavor on this earth I hate more than cherry, it’s black cherry.  So imagine my delight to learn my new dissolvable medication is black cherry flavored.  I don’t get to chew, crush, or swallow this beasty.  No.  I get to put it on my tongue, where all my glorious taste buds are located, and patiently wait for it to dissolve while it numbs the tip of my tongue.

Or

Put it on my tongue, gag over it, nearly choke, have little fizzies of it hit the back of my throat, numbing the back of my throat AND the tip of my tongue, while I try not to vomit.

It was a graceful event.

Take two is tonight.

Currently Reading

I’m going to try to write one of these every week. First, it gets me writing. It gets me past any writers block with an easy post that doesn’t take a ton of time from school. Second, it holds me accountable for reading a book a week. Granted, some books really do take a long time to read even when I am keeping up on my reading. But unless the book I’m reporting on is 500+ pages, give me the stink eye if I report the same book two weeks in a row. Other weeks I might report on 3 books because each book alone was a 3 hour read.

As we speak it is 3:04 on what is to be Tuesday morning.  This post goes live in 7 hours.  A little less, really.  I am just now finally beginning A Separate Peace.  Which, I know.  But I’m hoping to have it nearly read by the time this goes live.  So cross your fingers for me?

I did manage to finish The Fitzgerald short stories!  It’s not that I didn’t like them, it’s just that every time I became invested in them, the story would end and I’d have to reinvest.  And not all the stories were as worthy of the investment as others.  So it was a long and drawn out read.  But I finally decided it was time I finished and finish I did!

The bible was on target but so confusing.  My mom asked what version I was reading and I didn’t have an answer but I think the version she’s handed me will be easier for a beginner reader.  I think after this week’s novel, which was last week’s novel, I’m going to get caught up on the bible.  Or at least try.  We shall see.

You are welcome to find me and friend me on Goodreads if you would like to see my read, to-read, and currently reading lists. It’s a great site for finding great books. And I love going to the library and pulling up my to-read list. I have also made both a list of books I own and a list of books I want to be sure to buy, which is very handy when I’m browsing Half Priced Books clearance shelves.

I have not been paid to promote anything with this post. The only thing I aim to promote is my love of reading and I have not been paid anything. Unless you want to pay me. Then you’re welcome to. Didn’t think so. *wink*




mccaine-rosalee@mailxu.com