So, yeah, I haven’t written a blog in about a zillion years. Why? Cause my life isn’t exactly riveting nowadays. I mean, who wants to read blog after blog full of edge of your seat stuff like “Stayed home all day once again” or “Went to a doctors appointment, then came home. Again.” Not exactly the kind of thrilling entertainment most folks are gonna be excited by. Not that my newest updates are super exciting but, compared to the usual snooze-fest, it’s damn near astounding.
First though, quick general update: still not able to work, still waiting for disability determination, still utterly bereft of feline/canine companionship, still living with my aunt and uncle, still striving for hermit status, etc etc etc.
Okay, so that’s out of the way. Onto my first tidbit of yay news! I GOT MY LICENSE BACK!!!! I can officially drive myself to my own darn appointments now and I can go to the store whenever I want and I can go visit the small number of folks that I actually want to visit and I can go have coffee with my former advisor before she retires and I can just drive around the state park when I start to feel trapped and stir crazy. Don’t get me wrong, I love being at home, but more so when it’s MY home…by myself…in solitude. It’s a little bit of freedom and control coming back into my life and I am beyond grateful that my doctor finally cleared me to drive and Tom is getting Betsey up and going and Ronald and Virginia don’t have to be my drivers anymore (though I will be eternally grateful for the fact that they willingly carted me to the many, many doctors appointments and grocery store runs and such for the last 16 months or so)! I picked Betsey up from the mechanic place today, so hopefully she’ll be good to go now. The poor ol’ girl sat in the driveway that whole time, so she needed a bit of TLC (jumped the battery, added fuel stabilizer, added antifreeze, got her unstuck from the ice that tried to keep her in pace, sorta fixed her side mirror, had to replace 2 brake lines, and will be replacing her windshield washer fluid receptacle and her cracked windshield and her window roller-upper thingy and her serpentine belt and hopefully, last but not least, fix her AC). What can I say, she a cantankerous old lady.
Next tidbit of news is a bit less yay-worthy, but whatever. I have to have surgery on my thumb next month. Apparently, trigger thumb is really a thing and, lucky me, I have it. Tried the whole big shot in my thumb joint bit, and it worked…for a couple months. Then it wore off and now my dumb thumb is all crabby and hateful. So I agreed to get the surgery, which I’m having done on the 19th of April. It feels like a really long time to have to deal with this annoyingly displeased thumb and its constant unpleasantness, but it is what it is. Oh, and I also agreed to getting the surgery done with just a local anesthetic (boo yeah, spelled that right on the first try!), which means I’ll be all kinds of conscious throughout the procedure. On one hand, I’m totally psyched because, well, I’m sick like that. I thought watching them stitch my thumb was awesome, so this should be way cooler. The only thing that worries me is that I have to sit still through the whole darn thing. Now, knowing myself as I do, this may prove damn near impossible. For one, I’ll totally be trying to see what they’re doing, craning and wiggling and straining to get a better view. Then there’s the fact that, as a general rule, I’m a fidgety, twitchy, itchy mess at the best of times, and get progressively worse the harder I try to be still. So hopefully I don’t move at the wrong time and permanently fuck my shit up.
I have my disability determination doctor visit the day before my surgery. I had my final hearing way back in August. I must admit, if I had the option to say ‘fuck it’ and just go back to work, I probably would. I hate this. I hate having to admit that I can’t adult without help, that my body simply will not do what I want it to. I hate that my mantra of ‘suck it up buttercup’ doesn’t work well enough anymore. I hate that I’m 42 years old and my body has betrayed me. I hate that my friend has to pay my bills while I wait for this stupid disability determination because I can’t just go back to work. I hate that I now have ANOTHER damn health issue that makes everything that much harder. Most of all, I hate that I feel so utterly powerless.
Apparently, the whole DVT blood clot and its ensuing delights left me with more than the super sexy scars on my leg. I now get to add something called Chronic Regional Pain Syndrome to my list of health issues. Basically, it means that a bunch of the little nerves in my foot and lower leg are now just worthless lumps of stupid. I have several areas on my foot that have little to no feeling, my foot can no longer regulate temperature so my toes are always freezing, I have to actually concentrate in order to make my foot land the right way while walking (which is completely bizarre), I have a super hot swagger (okay, it’s a limp, but swagger sounds way cooler), swelling, pain, etc. And best of all, it’s is almost guaranteed that all this delightfulness is permanent! yay
Last tidbit for y’all! I’m not sure how many folks remember my encounter with the bat in my apartment many, many years ago, but I’ll give a quick summation. I had a bat get into my apartment while I was home alone one night. I spotted it and, of course, shrieked and hid under my blanket. Then I laid there, berating myself for being such a chicken shit. I reminded myself about all the factoids I learned from documentaries on Discovery (like I said, this was a long time ago). So I convince myself that when the bat lands on my blanket, which he totally will, I will quickly throw the blanket over him, grab that bundle of bat filled blanket gingerly, and chuck the whole thing right out the front door (free blanket for my sketchy neighbors!) and all will be right with the world. Yeah. Not exactly what happened. Instead, the bat landed on the blanket and I totally LOST MY SHIT–shrieking and flailing at the blanket like a demented toddler trapped in their suddenly carnivorous blanket fort. I ended up falling asleep out of sheer exhaustion at some point later that night, firmly tucked under my blanket from head to toe. When I told my landlord and my boyfriend about the incident, they not only couldn’t find the damn bat, they started looking at me like I was making it up or something. Come on, if I was making it up, wouldn’t I have made myself sound just a tiny bit less like a total wuss??? Sorry for the trip down memory lane, but it is a bit relevant to this story. So the other night I was in our kitchen and thought I saw a mouse. Dismissed it because it was just a quick movement out of the corner of my eye. Figured I was just seeing things or whatever. Yeah, not so much. Later that night, I’m in my bathroom, minding y own business while doing my business, and in runs a frickin’ mouse. Want to take a wild guess how calmly I reacted to my nocturnal invader?? Yeah, about like you’d think. There was a lot of screeching and flailing about, which is exceedingly awkward while perched on a toilet. Needless to say, I finished my business and got outta there in record time. Trouble is, my room is right next to the bathroom, so I was just certain the little fiend would follow me. Sure enough, my heart beat had barely returned to normal when that little bastard went tearing through my room. After more shrieking and flailing about, I started trying to reason with the little beast. I was all “Look here mouse, you have to go away. If you stay here, bad things will happen.” And then it ran right along the clothes hanging in my closet! Y’all, I really freaked then. Leave it to me to be stalked by a crackhead mouse who apparently has no interest in food, just running around randomly, freaking me out. So the next day I headed to Walmart to gets some traps. Now, in case you have forgotten, I am a complete bleeding heart. Therefore, I wanted the sort of traps that let you catch the vile beastie without killing it. Helpful hint folks: do not ask for no kill mouse traps at a store in a town filled with country folk. They will look at you like you are some kind of dim-witted freak. So I was forced to buy the murdery sort of traps instead, which makes me feel decidedly not warm and fuzzy. But it was in my room, and that is simply not acceptable. So now I wait, torn between hoping I catch the little fucker and dreading it. Preferably, he just left the house right back out wherever he came from. But he really doesn’t seem that bright. Sigh.
I saw a guy at the grocery store a couple weeks ago wearing a big cowboy hat and a big old belt buckle…and velcro shoes.
I’m so excited my buddy Krystal is back! Can’t wait to go visit, now that I have the ability.
This guy I always called purple truck guy died recently and it got me thinking…I wonder what moniker folks would give me?
I’ve read 66 books so far this year.
I’m sad that I missed my chance to take part in the prison book club.
My 11 yr old niece will get a stamp on her passport this week. I’ve never even had a passport lol! I hope they have an awesome trip!
I wish Netflix wasn’t so judgy about how long you binge out on a show, bugging you about whether you’re still watching. I just wanna be like, yes I’m still here so leave me alone and stop making me acknowledge my wasted life, Netflix, you bastard!
Tomorrow is World Down Syndrome Day!
That’s all for now kiddies!