Me, Myself, and the Voices in My Head

A place to ramble and maybe make some sense about a thing or two.

Archive for the tag “bored”

2012 in review

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.  True, I’ve not blogged in ages.  So much for my goal….but the ADD kicked-in and I got bored.  However, it’s still open and I can blog when I want to now!  Yay for loopholes!!!

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 7,600 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 13 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.


No, I didn’t post yesterday. What’s it to ya’?

This is driving me crazy!!  Here it is summertime and I don’t have squat to post because my life seems to be in a perpetual holding pattern because of my ERO/EEOC case and the fact that nothing interesting has happened recently.  I’m also not in the mood to continue my biography at the moment because we’re getting to the parts that were really difficult to live through back then.  I’m not sure I want to bring them up to the surface again now.

I am finding it very interesting looking at the map that shows from where people who read my blog are.  The other day Australia took the lead.  So far today the Irish have a substantial lead over the Americans.  And what people are reading is even funnier.  My reviews of Combat Cash and Mythbusters seem to be the favorites.  Someone clicks on them almost every day.

So, yeah, I’m behind in my posting.  But when it’s hot and sticky outside and it makes the house all hot and sticky, the last thing I want to do is sit in front of the computer in the hottest room of my house and type some drivel that people may or may not read.  I’ve also got an appointment with my therapist today, so who knows what goofy crap will come up that will make for decent topics?

This is a post

See it?  Okay.  I’m done.  Daily post completed.

No….you’re not getting more.  Well, not any more today, that is.  Had a fairly good to fairly crappy day and just don’t want to fiddle with this right now.

Go on.  Clear off!  Go do something constructive for a change….

Am I paying for this???

Today I had another therapist appointment.  She began the session by trying to tell me about Jay Leno on the “Tonight Show” last night and how she really liked this “black female comedian who must be new.”  I mentioned the name Wanda Sykes and she said, “Yeah!  That’s her!”  I began to list a number of television shows, movies, and voiceovers she’d done before and my therapist still had no idea who she is but thinks she’s the funniest person she’s heard in a long time.  I agree, Ms. Sykes is funny.  But then my therapist attempted to recount the entire conversation and all of the jokes between Jay and Wanda, but she couldn’t remember all of the bits.

She sat there trying to tell me jokes and repeat what had made her laugh so hard but couldn’t remember all of the punchlines or even some of the stories.  What she did tell me didn’t make any sense at all.

Then she began to tell me the story of how her dachshund had escaped from her house when a friend was dog-sitting and the very intricate details of how turkey hunters and neighbors (she lives in the country, so “neighbor” means “lives within a mile of you”) had seen the dog but weren’t able to catch it.  On and on the story went and she was stunned that the dog had been gone for 15 days and had survived.  The vet says it has tapeworms now because it was probably eating rabbits while it was away.  She couldn’t believe that her dog, a pampered pet, could kill something.

I reminded her that dachshunds were bred for hunting and ratting.  They’re low to the ground and have short legs so they can follow their prey into the burrows.  And, most importantly, that it’s a dog and when hunger sets in it’s not going to debate over whether or not the food comes from a can or hole in the ground.  It will go back to its nature and hunt, especially if it’s a breed originally designed for that.

She kept on-and-on about how shocking it was and could I possibly believe that her dog (which I’ve never met) could do something like that and then, oh by the way, did I know that her pig was getting bigger?  I had to stop for a second and ask her to repeat herself.  She was telling me that the small piglet she’d been bringing into the office because its mother had stepped on it and it had a large wound that needed to be cared for was doing much better and is getting bigger.  She also asked me what she should do with such a large animal.  She’s raised pigs before, so she knows that sows can become VERY large.  I suggested that she make it a banquet centerpiece but she said there was no way she could eat it.  She might consider breeding it but she doesn’t know what to do with such a large animal.

Hey….here’s a fun fact — if you breed a very large animal, its young will also become very large animals!!  If you think you don’t have room for one now, having a bunch of others isn’t going to help your space issues!!

I was about to ask, “Am I paying for this time?” when she finally asked me a question about how I was doing.  I asked if she was telling me these disjointed tales as an example of what it’s like to talk to me and she said that she didn’t realize she’d talked so much.  She then asked me why I’m not writing a novel and wanted to know more details from some of the posts that the voices have been writing and suggested I take them and write a book with them.

Yeah….people really want to read the Great American Novel about a plain kid with a dysfunctional family who’s bat-shit crazy.  Sure, it will be the top of the bestseller list in the category of “Most purchased for use in lighting fires” or “Most purchased as cheaper alternative to toilet paper.”

So, my one-hour session didn’t quite last that long today but at least it gave me subject matter about which to post tonight.  I was too depressed to type much today anyway and still am.  However, the goal of having a post every day is intact.  My OCD is still sated for another 24 hours.

Got nuthin’

Nope….just not in the mood to post.  Gotta fill the space, though.  Sitting here with 2 hours left and nothing I’ve tried writing looks good.

So, I’m going to sit back and watch the old “Addams Family” movie.  It’s silly but it’s still fun to watch after you’ve not seen it for a long time.

Could today get any worse?

Yes.  Yes it could.

Thank you for reading.

You may be a winner? Not me.

No new information today.  No responses from my requests for information.  No scheduling of appointments with the low-vision center.  Nothing.  Not even a wrong-number phone call or junk mail in the mailbox.

A pretty dull day, if I do say so myself.  I’m not going to complain about it too loudly, though.  A dull day also means nothing bad happened and that’s a good thing.

Oh, and to those who follow this blog — I’ll still be posting tomorrow unless I’m deathly ill.  I didn’t buy a lottery ticket today.  I couldn’t see the sense in getting all fired-up over the surety that I won’t win the huge jackpot when compared with the miniscule odds that I could maybe possibly win it.  At least when I wake up in the morning I won’t be disappointed that I didn’t win.

Of course, if any of you do win, I can think of many good charities, research projects, and recently unemployed bloggers that could put even the smallest amount of money to very good use.  Just let me know how much you’d like to donate.

One test result finished….

Got a call from my neuro-opthalmologist today.  He received the results of my MRI from Friday and wanted to let me know that everything on it was fine.  I was quite relieved ’cause usually any time a doctor calls you so soon after a test it’s not always good news.  He was happy to report that there are no tumors or lesions or signs of any strokes.  The bad news is that it still leaves us with no answer as to what’s causing my vision to decrease so rapidly.

I still have the results from the ERG to receive.  Maybe they’ll give us some answers.  I asked him what would happen if that test came back that everything was fine, too?  He said he wasn’t sure and maybe it would be something that would fix itself in time.

Fix itself?  In time?  When you have to work for a living and you’re already limited in some ways by another disability, you don’t really have time to wait to see if things get better.  I’ve tried applying for a new job closer to home but, even though they’re not legally supposed to discriminate, I can tell that finding a new job while having a service dog with me isn’t most employers’ idea of an “ideal employee.”  Regardless of the fact that she wouldn’t impede my or anyone else’s work and the company/organization wouldn’t have to do anything other than provide a reasonable accommodation for the two of us, I can see by the look in their eyes that their minds are already made up but they can always cover it by saying the usual ol’ standby excuse I get, “You’re overqualified for this position.”

Guess I’ll go back to the waiting game until I hear about the other test.  This week is Spring Break for Youngest Son.  Would like to take him somewhere fun but (1) Husband can’t get off work, (2) can’t really afford it with the medical bills, and (3) it’s forecast to rain like the dickens here every day this week.  Maybe we’ll take a day and have a “Harry Potter” or “Star Wars” marathon and eat nothing but junk food.  He may not like the idea as much but I think it’s pretty darned awesome.

Happy whatever to me….

Yes, it’s my birthday.  No, I’m not going to tell you how old I am.  Yes, I went out to lunch for my birthday.  No, I didn’t do anything else special (at least as of 5:30 p.m.).

Youngest Son had a great time at his friend’s party last night.  They played Laser Tag and other games before going back home and watching endless episodes of Big Bang Theory before they fell asleep.

Eldest Son called me from college to wish me a happy day.  Fortunately he’s doing well this semester, doesn’t have to have a roommate in his dorm, and weathered the big storms that rolled-in a few days ago and yesterday very well.  It’s been drilled into him what to do in case of a severe storm/tornado/etc. and his weather radio is on to tell him where to go.  I worry, but at least I don’t have to worry as much when it comes to things like that.

Anyway, that’s all for today.

See….if I’d started this last year like I kept promising myself I was going to I’d be done now.

What am I doing….

This blog thing sounded so simple when it started.  “Sure, you’ve got free-time — fill it by writing!” the “voices” said.

“You’ve got such interesting stories, they need to be written down,” the therapist said.

“Your stories and the way you tell them are hysterical!  You could be famous if you wrote a book!” the family members said.

Today I sat down and looked at the calendar.  “If you’d just gotten off your duff and started the blog on your 40th birthday like you wanted, you’d be almost done by now!” my mind said.  It’s now got the “voices” taunting me over my ability to procrastinate like there’s always a tomorrow to do something.

I’m into my third month of this and I don’t feel like I’ve made any really insightful posts.  No words of wisdom that would inspire others.  Oh, sure, when I ranted about the crappy military collector’s show and the one where they freeze-dried people’s pets, those got a lot of responses.  And, yes, my political rantings have had higher read-counts — but those are fads.  This political season is going to end in November whether we like the outcome or not.  Based on what I’m hearing on the news and in other blogs and from my friends on Facebook, I don’t think we’re going to like it.

So today I thought about why I started the blog.  One of the biggest reasons was so that I could dump all of the crap the “voices” in my head keep badgering me about into a place where I can (1) either deal with it in a fun instead of tragic way, (2) deal with issues that are so old yet still hurtful in order to try to make sense of them so I won’t have to deal with them anymore, (3) dump ideas and work with them until I’ve created something useful or seen that it was a waste of time in the first place, or (4) at least keep my writing skills up-to-snuff and entertain and/or educate others.  Husband and my therapist keep saying how stunned they are at the amount of things I know about and can pull obscure facts from thin air in mid-conversation.  I thought maybe this would be the place to figure out how and why I know what I know because when they ask me where I learned it, I don’t know.

But I look at today and the past few days and wonder if I’m actually accomplishing anything at all.  Most of my days since last Friday have been spent either at the gun show (which was fun and we made a decent profit after expenses) or asleep because of the pain medication combined with my daily meds that can knock me on my butt without the extra help.  I’ve been fretting over a community theatre production because if my name is going to be on the programme as a technical director, then dammit it’s going to be the best I can produce because I have a basically non-existent professional theatrical reputation to uphold.  (Yes, I did get to work with “Miss Saigon” and “Sunset Boulevard” when I went to London on a theatrical tour/internship, but that was in the 1990s and no one remembers it but me.)  I’m a perfectionist and I don’t like to skimp or slide-over particulars but I’m being forced to with no money, no assistance, and no time to make it better.

I’ve been trying to hide some medical issues that have come-up from certain extended family members because the last thing I need is a lot of drama over something no one can do anything about at the moment.  My Step-Father recently severely broke his right leg and has another minor fracture in his left.  He’s having to stay at a rehabilitation hospital because he cannot walk at the moment (because of the rods and pins) and also needs his dialysis.  This has me feeling bad that he’s alone there because it’s three hours away from where Biological Mother is at their home preparing it for when he can return home again.  I’d go to visit him but my medical issue prevents me from traveling long distances by myself.  And when Biological Mother asked me on the phone the other day how a doctor’s appointment went, I had to remember that she was thinking of one months ago because I hadn’t told her what’s been happening.  I hadn’t told her that I went to that appointment which led me to two others with the same doctor and a referral to another specialist who has now referred me to another specialist I have to see next week and if that person can’t figure out what’s going on, then there’s no real hope of ever fixing the problem.

So, I finally told her when she called the other day.  I told her that I’d gone to the optometrist to get new glasses but the new prescription doesn’t help me see any better than the old prescription.  I tested lenses with the new prescription and couldn’t see anything any clearer at any distance.  I was referred to a glaucoma specialist because my optic nerve is cupped in a manner that, at first glance, would make any ophthalmologist jump to the conclusion that I have glaucoma.  I’ve been told for over 20 years that I have low-tension glaucoma (the type that damages the eye but can’t be detected by just measuring the pressure of the eye alone), so I went to have a special test done.  It’s called an OCT and I can’t remember at the moment what it stands for but they flash lasers at my retinas and measure the depth and thickness of them to determine the amount of damage.

I took the results to the glaucoma specialist who said, in a very assertive tone, that I don’t have glaucoma.  He had me re-take the OCT exam as well as a visual field test.  The visual field test is like sticking your head in a fishbowl where they place a patch over one eye and then flash dots of light at different intensities all around the domed surface and you’re supposed to click a button when you see the flashing dot.  Oh, and you have to stare at a bigger, red dot while they’re doing that so you won’t look around the bowl and cheat by looking for the lights.  After they do one eye, they do the same thing for the other.  I failed it badly.  The technician kept trying to remind me to click the button when I saw the lights and I told her if she’d make the lights show up I’d click it.  I didn’t know that the test had already begun.

The glaucoma specialist then looked at my eyes again, reviewed the tests again, and examined my eyes to see how well I could see with my current glasses or with a new prescription.  He came to the same conclusion — a new prescription wasn’t helping me see any clearer.  As a matter of fact, my eyes had gotten even worse since the last time I saw him a few weeks before.  Now there was a serious problem.  In our state, if you can’t see better than 20/50 with correction (glasses or contacts), you can’t legally drive at night.  I’ve been having a lot of problems with my night vision for a long time and had recently noticed that it was much, much worse.  I just didn’t know it was that much worse.  He immediately referred me to a retinal specialist across the state to see if he could help fix whatever is going on because it’s not glaucoma and he’s now stumped.

So, I travel across the state to have another appointment.  My eyes are dilated and another OCT test is done (I hope the insurance pays for all of these repeat tests).  An angiogram of my retinas was done so that detailed photos could be taken to determine where the damages are.  I know that I have a type of macular degeneration called Lattice Degeneration, but I couldn’t imagine that after all of this time it would just start acting-up.  Oh, and if they ever do an angiogram on your eyes, fair warning — they inject flourescent dye into your veins so they can see the veins in your eyes but forget to tell you that you’ll urinate flourescent colors for two days.  Just thought you’d like to know.

The retinal specialist comes in, looks in my eye, and says, “You must have glaucoma based on your optic nerve.”  I tell him that if he’d read the notes and test results, he’d find that I don’t have glaucoma.  He stood there and read my file, reviewed every test result that was sent to him, looked in my eyes again, and said, “I don’t know what you have.”  They checked my vision again and now I’m up to 20/60 with glasses.  One more jump and I’ll end up unable to legally drive — day or night.  he continued to check tests and the photos and reports before sitting down in front of me and admitting, “I can’t do anything for you.  There’s nothing wrong with your retinas that should be causing this that I could fix.  You need to see someone else.”

Now I’m waiting until next week to see a neuro-ophthalmologist at one of the more-prestigious medical colleges in the United States (which happens to be across the state from where I live) so that they can scan my eyes, my optic nerves, my brain, and whatever else they decide to stick into a machine to see if there’s a tumor, a damaged area, a disease, an alien, or something else.  I’m waiting for the usual answer I get — “It’s all in your head.”  My eyes are in my head, so of course it’s “in my head.”  I had an ophthalmologist once tell me it was “in my head” as if I was making it all up.  He was quite humbled when a partner of his had to do a cryogenic surgery to repair a hole in my retina that the first one had missed by thinking I was pretending (and I didn’t have to pay for the surgery).  But now I’m facing the prospect of not being able to drive, not knowing what’s causing this, and/or finding out that it could be something that can or can’t be fixed easily and — guess what — Biological Mother is worried now.  I didn’t want her to be worried now because there’s nothing that can be done until I have the tests and someone comes up with an answer.  And if this doctor can’t come up with an answer, there’s no one left to see (no pun intended).

What am I doing?  I’m sitting here completing one of the objectives of my blog by getting things out in the open and trying to get my “voices” to shut-up about them.  But, at the same time, I’m boring the rest of y’all to death, announcing a problem that other family members still don’t know about (but they might as well hear it from me here), and I’m still not feeling any better about it.  If this is supposed to be therapeutic, it’s not helping.  Even Celeste is noticing the tension in the room and trying to get me to quit typing.

Am I doing this right?  Is this actually going to work?  It is worth the daily “freak-out” when I don’t have a topic already in mind?  Does it fundamentally matter in the greater scheme of things?  And would anyone notice?

And, before anyone says it, the answer is not “42.”  I’ve already tried it and it’s not worked….yet.

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