*Shakes Head*

I gotta get out of this school before I lose the last of my sanity.  I kicked yet another kid out telling another to f-off.  That makes 4, I think.  In 4 weeks of school.

Oh and two Korean teachers decided they didn’t need to show up today.  Bitches.  I puked at work and all I got was a 10 minute reprieve from teaching a kindergarten class. 

I’m regretting eating the curry for dinner, but I couldn’t face a bowl of plain rice again.  But now I’m too damn tired to nuke the corn dogs I bought.

Tomorrow I see Dr. P.

I have to have weekly ultrasounds on my shoulder because I have a partially torn rotator cuff.  The ortho finally caught a glimpse of it on the ultrasound.  I guess this explains why I can’t lift my shoulder above my chin.

I’m falling apart piece by piece.  I swear, even if I don’t have RA, I’ve got something that’s attacking my tendons and joints.

 

Oh yeah, the theme change.  Only because it’s cute and a certain fish obsessed friend will like it.

Med Changes

Whee.  Back on the med-go-round.  With the amount of benzos Dr. P had decided to prescribe, why the hell am I have panic attacks multiple times a day.  Needless to say, I’m going to see him tomorrow.  Again.

The rheumatologist cut my dose of Gabapentin.  We’ll talk about that on Wednesday.  He also d/c the Tramadol.  Maybe all this crap is from going off the Tramadol, but I’ve never had problems before.  On Tuesday I had blood work done for possible RA.  I see him again on Wednesday.  This is going to be short and sweet because my fingers just don’t work right at the moment.

I am thankful for the two of them.  I even got a hug from Dr. P when I saw him on Tuesday.

Sexuality

I’ve tried for a long time to write this post.  Rationally, I know it’s something I shouldn’t be embarrassed about, but I am.  I feel so different than everyone else.  Again, rationally I know there are other people who feel (or don’t feel as the case may be) the same way I do.  I just don’t know how to go about connecting with them.  I suspect for many it’s a big secret.  I sometimes think it would be easier if I felt attraction for women.  Or men.  Or both.  But I don’t.  I don’t feel anything.  I have no interest in the whole dating, marriage, relationship scene.  If you would ask, I’d say I’d identify as asexual.

I joke around that I watch football (the American kind) just for the huddle and the tight ends.  I find nothing about male butts in tight pants appealing.  I feel as guilty about that as I would about trying to fit into Lesbian culture.

I used to think this was a consequence of the abuse.  That it was a PTSD thing.  But maybe I’m wired this way.  I firmly believe sexuality is more hard wired than environmental.  My brothers are of the same no relationship mindset, but they have a normal sex drive and find women attractive.  I don’t judge their choices and I understand the not wanting relationships.  I think those similarities are enough to point at the toxic environment we grew up in.  But I’m definitely different from then.  Then again, I took the brunt of the abuse, especially from male relatives.

I can hear people out there saying it’s totally understandable to feel the way I do about sex, other people and relationships.  But I can’t help feeling like a freak.  There are so many survivors that go on to have normal relationships, be it with the same or opposite sex.  I can’t even work up the sexual energy to try to see where I might fit in on the spectrum.

I’ve looked at men of all kinds.  I’ve looked at women too.  But I feel nothing.  It’s like there’s a huge part of me missing.  Well, missing according to societal norms.  Maybe I just need to learn to be a little kinder to myself and live with what God gave me.  I know it’s possible to thrive in society without be married.

But honestly, I’m stuck.  I’ll be moving back to Korea and I’ll have the same psychiatrist.  I don’t know if I should bring it up with him or try to find an English speaking therapist (probably easier said than done).  If anyone has words of wisdom, please share them.  I don’t know if it came out, but this really has been bothering me for a long time.

Dentists… Ugh

I’m trying to be rational about this, but I have to go in Monday for more work.  I’m going to try to see if he can do both sides, and knock me out.  I really don’t want to go through this.  It’s the sound and the smell that really get to me.  My iPod wasn’t loud enough to drown out the noises.

The rational part says get this done.  The other part says get the hell out of there and never go back.

I’m tired.

Hospitals and Memories Collide

TMI warning

I’ve been having urinary retention issues.  Why?  Who knows.  Could have something to do with the handful of pills every day.

So after not going to the bathroom for 12 hours and getting a liter of saline, I was an unhappy camper.  The resident told the nurse to drain my bladder with a catheter.  Not fun, but I had it done before (side effect of anesthesia for me when I had back surgery).  It was unpleasant and brought back memories loud and clear.  I kept my eyes open and that helped keep me grounded.  After three or four times of doing this, and it getting harder for me each time to keep myself in the present, the resident decided on a catheter that would stay in.  I thought I could deal with it.  I didn’t realize that my body wasn’t going to habituate to this thing inside of me.  I could feel it constantly and it hurt.  I was on the edge of panic when the nurse came to check and I begged her to take it out.  I couldn’t explain in Korean why.  I felt crazy.  Finally she did take it out.  I huddled under my blanket and cried for a good while.  It’s been a long time since I was triggered like that.

What makes me the most upset is that I let it get to me.  I couldn’t shut the memories in a box or any of those other things they tell people with PTSD to do.

Even worse is I don’t have to words to describe what’s going on in my head.  And I wonder if I’ll ever be free of this.  I go for months and I’m fine.  Then everything goes to hell in a hand-basket.

Just writing it makes me tired.

Scar… No. Terrified

T – 13 hours and counting.

I’ve taken my regular night-time meds.  I took the PRN med Dr. P prescribed.  I’m trying to breathe.  It was easier at work because I was busy.  Now it’s just me and my thoughts.  I’m going to take my iPod and listen to a very academic podcast (This Week in Virology, FWIW).  I have to concentrate on what they’re saying to mostly understand.  On the positive side, they’re humorous too.

I don’t want to go, but I know I can’t run away.  On some level I need to prove to myself that I am stronger than my fears.  And I have to remember there are hands in my mouth, not other things.

I think I’m going to sign off and try to get some sleep.  Either that or cry.

Dentists

2012 is a year for overcoming one phobia.  Dentists.  Nothing bad happened in the chair.  I think it stems from my father putting things in places they don’t belong on a child.

It’s taken me almost 20 years to do this.  I got nice drugs from Dr. P.  I was almost crying in his office yesterday.  Actually I was nearly in panic mode, but I tried my best to hide it.  No IVs for me just to get a dose of Valium.  He gave me Propropanolol.  It’s a BP med, but helps anxiety.

Most places open at 9.  I showed up at 9.  He didn’t open until 10.  At least the door was open.  I basically sat there crying silently for an hour.

But I made it through.  I’m having a dead tooth pulled next week and a temporary crown put on.  Then I’ll get a bridge for the four front teeth to get ride of the gaps.  I have the option of IV sedation, but given nurses’ success in inserting IVs lately, I think I’ll pass.  And he said if it was his wife, he would still recommend the local.  Good drugs Dr. P.  I’m going to need them.

I feel a huge sense of relief.  I’m still very anxious about going next week, but I think it’ll be easier to step in the door.  And I know it’s OK to cry.  Some doctors get all upset.  This guy (missed his name) just tried to talk me down from the ledge.

Part of it is feeling trapped.  Being in the chair is vulnerable.  You’re on your back, the table is over you.  Some guy has hands in your mouth.

But I did it.  And I have a feeling I’m going to need constant reminding of that.

Scared

I’m scared that these side effects from which ever drug in the cocktail is doing it is pushing me toward an eating disorder.  Nothing tastes right.  Not looks or smells appetizing.   I ate a bowl of rice yesterday for lunch.  That was it.  Somewhere around 500 calories.  And I taught 5 classes.  I came home and took my meds (damn will phenobarbital knock the hell out of you), watched TV and went to bed.

I got up this morning.  Took the meds.  Went to see Dr. P who happens to have a nifty new toy.  It let’s you visualize (a very small part) of the vascular system.  It’s kind like shining a flash light through your hand (am I the only kid that thought it was cool it came out red?)  The use the tip of your index finger, right above the nail bed.  It was cool.  And guess what.  As usual it was fucked up.  There isn’t one body system that’s working right.  Well, I guess my skin is okay.  I’ll probably wake up covered in pimples tomorrow with my luck.  So looking at a bunch of pictures, he says it’s looking like a combination of chronic fatigue (duh, I’d bet anything CFS and FM are related), drug side effects (how ironic considering how many drugs I’m on), and a connective tissue disease (which one, who knows).  I don’t know exactly what test the rheumy ran, but he’s saying Fibro.

So I guess I’m going to go back to Dr. P and see if I can get printouts of the normal and mine.  Even I could see how abnormal it looked.  Instead of nice light pink, straight loops, I had dark red squiggle loops.  I also had more than normal.  That I can take to rheumy.  I know Dr. P is going to call him.

So I’m scared of that.  I’ve never been scared to google stuff before, but I don’t want to know what else might be wrong.  I don’t know if I should get a referral to a hematologist or what.  I’ve always wanted to be informed.  No matter how scary (don’t google fasciectomy or whatever that thing was that I thought they were going to have to do on my leg) I wanted to know.  Part curiosity.  Part control issues.

Back to my original thing.  Yesterday rice.  Today, nothing all day.  The rice was at noon yesterday.  I came home at 10 after 4 classes (and breaks, imagine that) and ate an egg.  Getting that egg into me was the hardest thing.   It’s not a classic eating disorder as such.  But there’s something wrong with me and food.  It left a bitter taste in my mouth.

My stomach says feed me (grumble grumble) but my brain and my nose and my mouth just scream no.

How do I move past this?  I used to love to cook and eat.  Part of this is the lack of  kitchen.  I have no counter space and a toaster oven.  I do most of my cooking in a crock pot.

It’s sad, but I have to blame part of this on the fibro.  There were weekends where I couldn’t get out of bed to go to the store if I wanted.  I have a short vacation.  I plan on spending tomorrow resting.  Trying to let my body heal itself.  At least a little bit.  If I can I’ll go to the doctors.  If not.  Then I’ll do what my body  tells me what I need.

It’s past my bed time, but I needed to get this out.  It’s not as scary.  But the unknown is crazy for me.  It’s a shame the science thing didn’t work out for me.  But in the end, all there is is the unknown.