Monday, August 18, 2014

Memory Lane Monday: A Mixed Bag or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Tumor (Part 1)

This month has been a mixed bag of emotions. So much of a mixed bag, I might need to divide this post up into 2 parts.  First off, if you read my tweets at all, you may have seen a few describing my feelings for the manager at my job.  If not, here's a taste:



 Or this gem:



Or what might have been my absolute favorite day at work thus far...


 So in dealing with an honest-to-Freud Sociopath for 40 hours a week for the past 3 months why the hell wasn't I having just the best time ever?  Well, up until recently, I'd gotten pretty good at just tuning her out and rolling my eyes at her behind her back, determined not to let her drag me down to her level or to make me feel bad about myself.  But then something changed.

The first weekend in August I developed an ingrown thumb nail.  Sounds very uneventful right?  That's what I thought too.  If you've ever have an ingrown nail, you know that the pain that comes with it can be excruciating, especially if it becomes infected.  Lucky me, that's what happened.  Not only did the ingrown nail become infected, but it grew into something...else.

I noticed the ingrown nail on a Saturday.  By the following Friday, it had exploded into a bleedy disgusting mound of pain and terrible.  I dare not describe it further because it's gross.  Just know that it was awful.  And hurty.  You guys, this thing is so painful, if spinal surgery is the worst pain I've ever experienced in my life (and it is), this thumb shit is a very near second.  It got to the point where I was so freaked out and fed up, I needed to seek medical attention.  

After hours of trying to locate an urgent care facility within 50 miles of me that was covered by my HMO, I said "fuck it" and decided to go to the community clinic where we went when we thought Boyfreind's jaw was falling off. After the usual joy that comes with waiting for a doc at the clinic, I finally got to go into an exam room.  I had Boyfriend come in with me because I assumed that the entire nail was just going to need to be cut out to relieve the swelling and pain and I wanted someone to hold my hand. (My good hand.)

While we waited for an eternity in the freezing room for the doctor, I tried to decide on what would be the worse scenario: the doc looks at my thumb and tells me I'm over-reacting and to go home, meaning we wasted time and money going to the clinic OR the doctor looks at my thumb and freaks out because I'm dying of some horrific rare disease and my thumb is about to fall off. Boyfriend snorted at me in bemusement, and told me I was being silly.  I will say this: I hate being right.

Someone buy me this shirt

The doctor finally came in and I told her about the ingrown nail.  She asked me to remove my bandages.  After I did, she gasped and stared at my thumb in stunned silence.  Great.  Eventually she was able to mutter a couple of "Oh My"s while she poked at the horrible-awful that was my thumb. I glanced terrified at Boyfriend who just stared back at me wide-eyed.

So, short-story-long, the doctor put in an urgent referral to a hand surgeon who might need to drain it or cut it off or whatever it is that hand surgeons do in this case.  I don't know what that thing is because even the clinic doctor didn't have any clue what the fuck was wrong with my thumb.  She said she'd never seen anything like it.  Awesome.

It's never good when your doctor makes this face...
She left the room to submit the referral, but I'm pretty sure she just when to her office and Googled my thumb symptoms because when she came back, she had written what she thought it was on a post-it and told me to go home and clean it with iodine every day.  Then she gave me a band-aid and sent me on my way.  Thanks HMO.  Best $15 band-aid and used post-it note combo ever.

According to the doctor's post-it, I have a Pyogenic Granuloma (for the love of all that is good and holy, do not Google images of this, save your eyes.)

So what is it exactly?  Well, the clinic doctor couldn't tell me, so I turned to my old frenemy: WebMD.  According to the internet, I basically have a benign lesion or tumor growing out of my thumb.  Supposedly, it's not uncommon in teen and young-adult women.  It's caused by injury, trauma, or hormone fluctuation, like during pregnancy.  Well, I'm most definitely not preggo, but I figure the combination of all the stress hormones from me suppressing my rage for 8 hours a day at work and my ingrown nail manifested into this terrible awful.  

You know, like this:

 

So, I as sit here at home, still waiting for my "urgent referral" to come in the mail (our healthcare system at work, ladies and gentlemen,) I'm actually starting to wonder: if I concentrate hard enough, maybe the damn thing will fall off on it's own. 

So, here is what I need from you, dear reader(s) if you're still with me:
What should I name my tumor?  I figure if we all hate it by name together, maybe it'll just up and leave.  
Hey, it can't be dumber than waiting for an "urgent" referral for surgery to arrive via the United States Postal Service, right?  What is this, 1850? 

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Words

I've been away from the writing desk for a time and I've missed it.  I've had some ups and some downs as of late, but right now I need to write.  Writing seems to be the only thing that can calm the swirling tornado of words in my brain.  Writing helps quiet the demons.  

You know the demons.  The demons that whisper quietly at you from the dark recesses of your brain.  They start small and soft, hissing at you that you're not good enough, that you'll never be good enough...whatever "good enough" means.  Slowly, (so slowly you almost don't notice) the voices grow louder and louder.  There comes a point where the voices grow so loud you can't distinguish your own thoughts from their incessant taunting. The taunting that constantly rings in your ears until desperation sets in and you can think of nothing but making them stop.

We lost a dear someone to those demons this week.  

I've deliberately avoided a lot of social media this week.  I can't take it.  It's too triggering.  But in stepping away from the screen, I've had a chance to reflect on my own feelings instead of the "hive mind" that can develop when a high profile tragedy occurs and everyone and their fucking goldfish puts in their two cents.

So, right now, I won't be a 2-cent goldfish.  I will say that I'm very sad.  I'm also amazed that a person could have such a "spark of madness," such a gloriously infectious personality that he can make people who never met him feel like they just lost their best friend when he leaves this world.  
If you're battling those demons or if the media shit-sation this week has let slip the dogs of war inside your brain like it has mine, I want you to know you are not alone.  Today I am winning my battle because I'm sitting here writing this.  You are winning your battle today too because you're reading this.  There is hope for us. There is help.  I know sometimes the scariest part is asking for it.  
Please use these resources if you need them.  You are worth it.  You are important.


National Suicide Prevention

Didi Hirsch Suicide Prevention

HopeLine




Thank you, Robin for making the world a better place by being a part of it.  

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Sunday Sunday Sunday!!!

So, remember that time I made a video blog?  And how I said my goal was to upload a video once a week?  Guess how long that lasted....yup, you guessed it, one week.  The funny thing is when you have a video that has 30+ minutes of footage and fuck-ups and do-overs, it takes a long ass time to edit.  Especially if you're trying to do all the editing yourself on top of trying to write creatively, take care of your dog, take care of your relationships, take care of yourself, and work full time at a miserable job in the 2nd circle of hell, all while attempting to build your dream career on the side so you don't have to work full time at said horror show.  Also, there comes a point where I'm tired of listening to the sound of my own voice, and I just need to walk away from editing myself for a day or two.

So, short-story-long, I finally finished editing my second vlog.  I have enough footage in the can for at least 3 other coherent short videos, and all the footage in the world for a whole mess of incoherent videos. It's just the editing process that is crap.  So, I did not abandon the video venture, I just may have bit off a teensy bit more than I could chew.  News flash.

Without further ado, my second video:




Link here if you can't see this video.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

New Blog Stuff (UPDATED)

So I've been a bit absent from my blog recently, but I made a video to sort of explain why.  

That's right, I said video. You're welcome.  

Go watch it here: bad link


UPDATE:

Sorry, I had to delete and re-upload my first vlog video.  The new link is here and the video is below.





Thursday, May 22, 2014

I'm Still Here

The words are there, I know they're there.  I know because I hear them swirling around in my brain constantly, trying to escape.  But, when I finally sit down to let them out and try to type or write them down, they all try to leave at once and then it forms a creativity traffic jam and my brain gets all clogged up and my head gets heavy and I just want to lay down on the floor and never move again.

I'm filled with inspiration when I'm driving in the car or reading an article, but when I have a moment to actually sit down and try to produce something, my brain lies to me and tells me that it's not good enough, so why even bother.

So, that's why this post is so discombobulated, I'm just trying to create.  To put something down on paper...so to speak.

May is Mental Health Awareness month.  If you struggle like I do, then you understand the importance of this.  On my good days, I want to hug everyone who is having a bad day and tell them it will get better.  On my bad days, I forget that good days ever existed or will ever exist again.  But, this is me having a not-so-good day reaching out trying to make the day better than it was when I woke up.  if not for me, then for someone.  I got my inspiration from the What I Be Project. It's haunting and beautiful and almost brought me to tears. So, I took my own photo.



If you or someone you care about it struggling, please ask for help.  It's scary, I know. 
Here are some resources I find useful:

-Walk in Our Shoes
My shoes



-Dr. Deb

-Erasing the Distance

-MentalHealth.gov

-Suicide Prevention Lifeline


And if you won't listen to me, will you listen to The Doctor?



Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Zulu Dawn: A Bittersweet Ending to the A-Z Challenge

Zulu Dawn was a 1979 film dramatization of the Battle of Isandlwana.  What was the Battle of Isandlwana?  No idea.  Wiki it.  My British history is rusty.  I've actually never heard of this movie, yet alone seen it.  I only bring it up because this movie features a wonderful actor who the world was forced to bid farewell to yesterday.  Bob Hoskins died from pneumonia yesterday.  He was 71.

To the Brits, he was a delightful and talented gentleman who rose to international acclaim from an accidental start in show business.  American audiences of a certain age probably know him best for his roles in Steven Spielberg's Hook, Robert Zemeckis' Who Framed Roger Rabbit, or maybe the shit-show less than popular Super Mario Bros. live-action film.

Regardless, Mr. Hoskins was beloved by many and I was so sad when I learned of his passing.  I was at work when I overheard my manager say "That guy from Roger Rabbit died" and I almost cried.  That sadness quickly turned to irritation and rage when I screamed "Bob Hoskins died?!?!" and my manager looked at me like I had grown an extra head because 1) I knew his name, and 2) I was so upset I almost cried. 

Rest in Peace, Bob Hoskins, I loved your career.  
Thank you for helping make my childhood magical.


Tuesday, April 29, 2014

YENSID

Source
Yensid is the name of the sorcerer in The Sorcerer's Apprentice cartoon from Disney's Fantasia. (But you knew that already, right?)  It is also D-I-S-N-E-Y spelled backwards. And Disneyland is where I spent my birthday evening on Friday.  It's official, I'm 30.  I don't really feel 30.  I don't really feel any age, I just am. I'm a real live adult now right? It doesn't matter, Disneyland is the best place to have a birthday, hands down. I went and got my official Disneyland birthday button, they wrote my name on it and I wore that bad boy proudly, basking in the showering of birthday wishes from cast members and other guests as I skipped down Main Street like an 8-year-old. I win.


Turning 30...you're doing it right.




BIRTHDAAAAAAAAAY!!!