The Best Day of Summer

...is the first day you are able to go to the swimming pool, decked out in your new swim gear, and even though it's reallllly yellow, you figure it must be pretty cool since Mommy picked it out.

The best day of summer is the first time you realize that winter is gone, gone, gone, and with it Seasonal Affective Disorder, and you remember it's so true that sun really does equal happiness, cuz Mommy says that so it must be true.

And you get to play with your cousin L in the sparkling blue water

And play football with your best little cousin friend, Lil M, who looks really cute even though his mommy only dresses him in blues and reds while Mommy dresses me in yellows and oranges, cuz she says that warm colors are "the bomb,"

and I get to warm up by Mommy, snug in her legs, and eat the M&M's I forced her to buy me,

And the best day of summer is EVERY DAY in the summer, cuz we go to the pool lots, and we get groovy tans, and Mom says those are the best, and Mommy's awesome cuz she wears a swimsuit even though she has a tube, and her boobies say hi, and I can't wait to go again next weekend cuz Mommy promised we would!

The end, love Cappa-Taden

Button Bullsh*t

Blargh
SO B U G G E D. So after I woke up from my surgery yesterday, of course, the first thing to come out of my mouth was me screeching bloody hell!, BUT the second telling Big B I wanted him to help me look at my cute new button waiting for me on my tummy.

I looked down, and…
There was no button.

There was a tube.

A different tube than the one I’d had before, but still, a tube. I thought to myself it was probably the tube that you connected to the button, and shrugged it off, thinking I’d yoink it off later.

Later that night I tried pulling at the stupid thing, only to be very unhappy I did, cuz it hurt like a mother. So this morning, I called the GI doc, asking him how to take off the tube so it was just the button.

What does he tell me?

Oh, that there is no button. It’s just another tube. Another long, ugly-ass, expensive tube. A tube that this girl will not be paying for, because this girl was misinformed, and when scheduled for surgery, was told she was getting a button placed. He tried to tell me that it was a really cool tube, and I was one of the first in Utah to get it, and it sits at a right angle, and you can’t see it through clothing as much, blah blah blah, but snapdragons I’m PISSED. I can’t afford another tube, no matter how cool it is. I would not have done the surgery if I had known this. I wanted a button. I came out with a tube.

I was lied to.

I am mad.

Highlights and Lowlights

Hi everybody, I know I’ve been quiet lately. I guess I just haven’t been much in the mood to write, which is terribly odd. Maybe if I had something extraordinary to update you all on, at least my posts would be interesting. As it is, everything, pretty much unfortunately, is same old same old. Here are a few highlights (or lowlights, whatever) on what’s been going on, and then I’ll answer a couple Q’s.

Highlight: Lil C now insists on calling himself Cappa-Taden. He used to refer to himself as Tade, or Taden, but now has inserted a ‘Cappa’ before it. I find this hilarious. I call him Bubbers, and he’ll say, “No Mommy! I not Bubbers. I Cappa-Taden! Oo (meaning you) Bubbers!” Last night my mom was Cappa-Gwandma, and I was Cappa-Mommy. Where do kids come up with these things?

Memorial Day weekend was nice. We didn’t do anything too grand, but we made a picnic of fresh turkey wraps and strawberries with a yogurt dip and took it down to a park with a nice river, that was actually really high with the spring run-off. C loved it, and it was nice to relax. Later that evening we went to a BBQ at Big B’s parental’s. I, in typical Brie fashion, did not plan ahead and therefore was charging my camera’s battery the whole time, thus no pictures.

I’m kind of in this place again where I think that if I quit work and quit going to my doctor appointments and quit life, basically, things will get better. This is entirely cyclical, and I know I’m being irrational, but it doesn’t really help the thoughts go away. About every couple of months I’ll contemplate doing this; and everybody will tell me I’m being totally lame, and then I’ll eventually snap out of it. Hoping I’ll snap out of it before 1:30, which is when I’m scheduled to see my ED doc, and before 4:00, when I’m supposed to see the psychiatrist, Mr. Orville Redenbacher. Gross. Definitely a lowlight. This whole paragraph reminds me of a quote in the movie Little Rascals. I watch it all the time now, cuz C has (so, SO fortunately) moved on from Spongebob AnnoyingPants and now watches Garfield and Little Rascals all the time. Well, Alfalfa is totally naked except for his big boys, and he’s running down the street, being chased by bullies. Everything keeps going wrong, the poor kid can’t catch a break, and suddenly he stops running, and says, “And then the clouds opened up, and God said, I hate you, Alfalfa.” Yessss. Totally that was my day yesterday! It involved getting written up at work for an unexcused absence because for some reason my FMLA wasn’t approved, walking out (yes, like just leaving) a doctor’s appointment with out telling anybody, and then ignoring their half a dozen phone calls, no weight gain to report at the D, etc. Lotsa tears. A highlight, though: things probably can’t get worse, so by default I think today has to be better, unless I like get hit by a truck full of hot garbage juice or something?

Okay, going in for minor surgery tomorrow morning to get this PEG out and have a Mic-Key (or button) placed. This is entirely awesome because instead of having an 8 inch "teeny weenie," as Husband so affectionately states, I'll only have a one or two inch tubey coming out. Hopefully it won't hurt as much as last time, I mean, it literally can't, because I can't afford to go back to the hospital and be out of work, so let's hope that I emerge unscathed from the ordeal.

Okay, I’ll answer more Q’s next time. I know I’m lame, but I totally need to bounce. Have a good day, please!

Questions 3, 4, & 5

Question 3, from Krystle: If I could travel anywhere in the world, where would I travel?
A: I’ve been to a lot of really fun exotic places, from the LITERAL jungle in the Amazon in Brazil, to all the beaches in Hawaii. And, I LOVE THE SUN. (Except for the fact that last weekend in Bear Lake I got SECOND DEGREE BURNS for being out in the sun…and after a bit I even had 50 SPF on! Turns out that with the antibiotics I was taking for my Pneumonia, I wasn’t supposed to be in the sun because you have like an increased sensitivity to it or something. That better be it, because if it turns out that the sun is the freaking 58th thing I’m allergic to, I’m totally done!) But anywaysies. Really, right now, I’d choose to tour Italy. The Vatican, all the amazing churches and museums; there is so much beautiful history there, and I’d love to be able to see it all with my own eyes. At some point I’d love to travel to Israel too, but me no likey the idea of entering the Middle East right now, but someday, yes, that’s a great wish of mine too.

Question 4, from CookieGirl, and also my sister Brooke asked relatively the same question: May we hear about the novel I’m working on?
A: Wow, this is seriously a very tough one for me to answer, mostly because I want to keep it private because I’m embarrassed that I’ll fail. But yes, I am (or at least I was) working on a novel – it was more a memoir (I know, so corny, so "everybody’s doing it these days…") but the term “write what you know” is so so so true. :) The working title is Saving my Soul, but who knows what’ll it eventually end up being. I’ve written quite a bit, but quite honestly, have stopped at a very difficult period in my life – I cannot even write about it because it hurts too much, and I’m scared of having it be on paper, because that means it’s there, it’s real, and anybody could read it and do the taking and the judgments could begin circulating. I know that because I feel this way, there is no way that I am ready to have it published. I have sent the beginning of it to a publisher though, and though I’m assuming they’re not going to publish it because I never heard back, haha, but I did, however; hear from a worker there that they really did love it, and I came close to getting it published. And, I’m not worried. There are hundreds more publishing companies out there.

But yes. One of these days, you will ALL purchase a book by Brie B______!!! And also, I’m seriously contemplating writing more and publishing my From Behind Bars series. Not sure if it’s marketable, though…?

I yearn to do these things, more than any of you will ever, ever know, but I’m afraid of failure, but mostly I’m truly unable to do it right now because of how ill I feel – I have no energy for it. I don’t want to be unremarkable, and writing a novel and having it published; I know that I will have made a mark in this world. And I desire that more than anything.

Question 5, from Stella: If my house was on fire, what one material thing would I grab? (Cade, Brandon, and my kitties are already safe.)
A: Okay, so I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this, and it’s so hard to narrow it down to one thing. I mean, pictures, because we can save them on the computer these days, are replaceable. I no longer use a journal, so I wouldn’t need to save that. I think, in the end, I would save the blanket that I was wrapped in the day I was born. It’s a beautiful cream and soft purple, all silk, with small purple flowers on it. Up until I got married, I slept with it every night. It’s been sewn up and repaired more times than I can count, because it’s turned so ragged from how much I’ve used it. It’s tucked safely away now, though I’ll admit that I’m tempted often to get it out and nestle with it again. That thing has gotten me through so much in my life; no, sorry, I’m not kidding. When I think of it and I think of safety and comfort.

Questions 1 & 2

Question 1, from Cammy: What is the wallpaper on your desktop on your computer?
A: At home, on my laptop, it’s this:

And on my PC at work, it’s this:
And on my PC at home, it’s just some lame default one because it was acting up and we restored its original settings, and I haven’t as of yet changed it back to some cute ‘lil pic of C. (Totally putting that on my to-do list!)

Question 2, from Jade: What was my closest near-death experience, what was I thinking, what was going on in the room, and what do I think about most when I recall the incident?
A: Wow, this is a good – and tough one! I think the very most near I came to death was when I was five, and had both appendicitis and peritonitis. However, since I don’t recall very clearly all the events, and have already written a bit about it here, I’ll go with this – and though I wasn’t as near death, it sure felt like it, and was scary as hell:
It was January of 2005, and I was very into my eating disorder. My family and I had actually just decided that it would be best for me to go back IP (for the second time). I was doing and taking a lot of things I shouldn’t have, and I remember clearly it was a Tuesday night, and Bran and I were watching one of the first episodes of the season of American Idol – you know, the audtions. I was lying my head in his lap, and the room was spinning, and my head hurt like nothing I’ve ever felt, and I didn’t know how long I’d be able to stay conscious. An hour or two later, I was slumped on the couch, staring at the wall – I couldn’t make myself do more than that, I had no ability to literally speak or move, so sick was I. Brandon was pacing up and down, wondering what to do. He knelt beside me, wrapped his arms around me, put his head on my chest, and wept. I remember being so sick, I couldn’t even lift up my arms to comfort him. He then scooped me up, put me in the car, and took me to the ER.

What do I think about most when I recall that incident? Well, I think most about how heart-wrenching it must have been for Brandon to see me so sick, unable to move or do anything, and feeling so helpless. I feel a lot of regret, but mostly awe that I’ve put the man I love most in the world through so much, yet his love for me has been un-wavering. When I remember that night, I remember that I never want to engage in the behaviors I was doing at the time to make me so sick. I deserve more, and so does Big B. Yay for not dying!

Okay. Questions 3 and 4 to come later…

A Little Q&A with the Briester

It occurred to me that you, my quasi-awesome readers, are probably bored to death hearing my medical woes. So I’m going to change things up a little.

Leave me a comment, and ask me any question at all about your’s truly, and I will answer them in posts in the order they are received. Seriously, anything! Have I ever mooned anyone? Do I have a recurring nightmare? My IQ? My most humiliating moment while modeling?

A N Y T H I N G.

Well, almost anything. I will absolutely not answer any questions regarding numbers, meaning what is my weight, how much do I have to gain, what’s the least I’ve ever weighed, etc. That stuff is totally irrelevant and I refuse to be triggering (peew! peew!) on my blog.

But other than that, ask away. It might be fun to get to know me a bit more, yes? If you notice my blog URL, it’s no tale tells all, and that originally was the title of my blog. I was very, how shall we say it…careful with what I said, with what I revealed. I’m learning to let that go a bit, and let the world see who I am, so this is a big step (way to make progress!) for me.

What have I gotten myself into?

Feeling Functional

It’s been awhile since I gave you a juicy, meaty update, no? So here’s what’s been going on as of late:

Still on antibiotics but feeling S O O O O MUCH BETTER. I still have the burnies when I breathe, but that’s hardly anything new, so it’s all good. I even had enough stamina to do a bit of cleaning last night, and though I’d never be one to describe cleaning as fun, (and I sure as Hell’s bells ain’t no OCD clean freak) it was so so verra nice to be able to move and use my body and not feel like an elephant was sitting on my, like, face. And, I’m pretty sure Big B was happy I could do a bit of cleaning, too. He and Whit have been Super Great People for keeping the house tidy while I was trying not to die.

So, I am optimistic. I feel better, and though I’m not all better, I’m well on my way and I’m so relieved to be able to just feel okay. I really hope I never take my physical health and vitality for granted. (That is, if I ever achieve that again…)

My froctor called today and said I have to start carrying around an epi pen in case of a severe allergic or asthmatic reaction. I actually for some reason think it’s hilarious, but will oblige him. He said that until my Xolair shots start working, because my lung functioning is so horrible, I may need it – you know, think that creepy Caulkin kid in Signs at the end when he’s like dying of asthma? So anyway he thinks that could be me minus the whole crop circle and alien and hot Mel Mel shenanigans. Yea verily.

Saw the D today. And guess what? I gained a pound, yes, it’s true, 16 ounces, go Briester! It’s better than nothing, even though it is almost nothing, but I’ll take it. :)

I’m miserably behind on blogs, and am going to try to catch up. But what with going back to work, starting to be a functional human being again, being a mom, being a wife, and just in general a really kick A person, I’ve been busy.

You know how it goes.

Bear Lake Bliss

I went up to the cabin in Bear Lake this weekend with my sistas and twin bro. It’s only a 2 ½ hour drive, bordering Utah and Idaho, and it was B L I S S.

I was at first a bit nervous about having Pneumonia and being an hour away from medical help if needed, but my faulty bod totally came through for me this weekend and didn’t act up more than turning asthmatic when the familia came in from a bonfire that night. (I, sadly, couldn’t make it, cuz you know smoke is one of the 57 things I’m allergic to, but ended up alright when I shooed them away from me to go groom themselves of the smell).

No hubby, no baby, just me, my book, and the beach – and lots of good company. I really think it was just what the doctor (and probably the froctor, too, no?) ordered.

I’m back to work today, just as soon as my ED doc faxes a note to my HR manager telling them I’m well enough after my week of bedrest. I should technically be there now, but was kindly (but under no uncertain terms) told that I’d have to leave without the note. So just waiting…hating my sun burnies (who knew 75 degree weather could have such an effect on olive skin?!) and thought I’d update ya’ll.

Here are a few pics of the trip, though my sisters took more on their cameras, so if there’s any fun ones they have that I don’t; I’ll totally yoink them from their blogs and put them here.

Missed you lovers!

Bretty and Brookie playing wiffle ball on el beacho.

I snapped this to look at to see if I was getting color. I decided I wasn't, and declined any sunscreen. Yeppers, t o t a l l y regretted that a few hours later...

Ang and Ambie tanning.

Ang's coolest tan line ever, that totally made me covet it, no kidding.

Me and my beautiful sissy Brookie.

Can you see my sunburn on my chest? It didn't picture very well, but feel bad for me anyway because it pains me so!

Just a picture of part of the beautiful cabin (thanks Ang for letting us come up!)

From left to right: my sis-in-law Angela, Brooke, Tawny, Misty, Amber, and me. They're all such frickin' posers! Brett isn't in the pic because he took it, but we missed my other sister Jan and our other sis-in-laws. Maybe next time we can get the whole clan together, which is, like, 58962 of us. Yay for fam! (And yay for blogging, hopefully I'll update it just a titch more regularly...)

The Froctor

I saw my new allergist. It’s funny, the minute we saw each other, we both knew immediately that we knew each other. Turns out he’s my old friend from jr high and high school’s dad. Totally thought he was a podiatrist, no kidding. I’ve slept over at this man’s house. I’ve eaten dinner with him, played board games with him, watched movies with him, gotten into trouble with his daughter and scolded by him. SO when he wanted to look up my nose, I felt weird and nakey and vulnerable, because he’s not like my doctor, but more my friend – my FROCTOR, if you will.

But I think because he knows me, is tight with my family (say hi to your dad for me!) I think he’s pretty invested in helping me, and I’m pretty sure he’s not going to fire me, either, because that would be awkward when he runs into my dad. Sweet. Score one for the Briester.

I wish I had more froctors.

On Introspection

I’m not a very introspective person. I used to be, until that got a little too Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul for me, and I quit; refused to let myself think about anything other than being funny or just breathing and surviving throughout the day; I didn’t have the time or energy to look within.

But lying down all day, with not much to do, it’s hard to keep my mind from thinking, scratching more than the surface, searching…

I think I always shied from introspection because I was afraid I’d discover something dark, or really bad about my soul, my very being that was lurking in the shadows. But I’m beginning to think I’m more afraid that I’ll encounter something really, really good, really beautiful. Something worth saving. Something indeed worth introspection.

Because then everything I’ve ever known about myself will be wrong.

And what will I do then?

Boringville at Bedrest

Thank you for the well wishes, all. So I've been sentenced to bedrest for the entire week, which is never as fun as you'd think. TV in the afternoon sucks, and there's only so much Facebooking one can do - and trust me, my tolerance for social networking isn't too high. So I'm sitting here reading my smutty Scottish novel, listening to my cat grunt while she grooms herself (she's either reallllly enjoying it or just having a hard time reaching those special places) and have no idea what to do with myself.

I feel okay for the most part, just burning when I breathe, so I can't walk or talk too fast or else I'll get a coughing fit. I of course tire easily, and kinda feel like I got hit by a truck, but honesty, I've felt worse. The antibiotics make me super nauseous, but I suppose they are a necessary evil. As are all my meds, I guess.

So, not much new, as you can see, to post about. I find that getting Pneumonia in May is kind of humiliating, I always associated it with more of winter type illness. Isn't it?

I suppose I should try to enjoy the time off...lots of Sudoku puzzles and smutty TV and novels to keep me occupied...I'm way behind on blogs and emails, I apologize - don't have much energy for those now, but I'm sure I'll catch up later this week.

Have fun out in the May sunshine!

Mothers' Day

To a wife and mother dear,

We have had some ups and downs over the last couple of days years. We have been to Brazil, to treatment, to your parents, to my parents, to New York, to Meth House...and who knows where to next? It really just doesn't matter what else lies ahead for us, because we will still always be us. As long as I am with you I know I will always have someone to share my worries with, and to celebrate with during the good times. And I will always have the one person I care about making laugh the most, you! And I really mean this, nothing else matters.

I love watching Caden and seeing the expressions he makes when he hasn't seen you for even just a little while and I tell hime, "Cade, Mommy is home!" He runs across the room, jumps on the couch, stands up and looks out the window and says, "Daddy, Mommy is home!" He absolutely adores you. It doesn't matter if you have a tube, or if he is wearing yesterday's socks still, he KNOWS you are his sweet mommy, and that you love him. He knows you can fix his ouwies, knows he can sleep on your pillows. Knows you will watch movies with him on the bed. And most importantly, he knows who will always be his go-to person when he wants a donut!

I love you woman! You have deeply impacted me in a good way. I admire your resiliance and envy your ability to always get back up. There is no doubt in my mind that you have great things in front of you.

Thank you for always believing in me too! Happy Mothers' Day! We love you!

Love,

Daddy and Cade

B also bought me a yellow iPod as my gift (my first one drowned and my second one was stolen) and I didn't think I could love anything more than her (I named her peePod - she's yellow after all) but when I got this letter, I know it sounds cliche, but it really was better than any gift I could have gotten. I love you, Husband! Thanks for redeeming my Mama's Day, after being in the hospital all day...

I'm lucky, aren't I?

Pneumonia

Just got out of the ER. I had just talked them out of admitting me (I have severe Pneumonia in both lungs) when a steroid they were giving me intravenously, Rocephin, gave me an allergic reaction. I turned LITERALLY as red as a lobster, got hives everywhere, and my lips got big and a little blue and my oxygen went way down. After a few more hours of IV meds to counteract that, they begrudingly let me go home pending I come back immediately if I don't feel well or get worse and I have to stay on bedrest besides doc appts. SO don't want to be in the hospital anymore, the whole time I was there I was crying mostly because I couldn't believe I was back there already.

Well at least I know now why I've wanted to die the past few weeks; felt so sick. Oh and don't worry I'm not contaigous so you don't have to worry about my germies or anything.

That's all, pray for me mkay thanks.

Happy Mother's Day. I've sure had a helluva great one, haha.

When Having a Handicap is good

Well, I am in a bowling league. Yes, you heard me right, no need to make me repeat myself. Okay I will I’m in a freaking bowling league can you believe it?! When Brandon’s dad called and asked if we wanted to join, in dead seriousness I was like, Don’t you need to be good to play on a bowling league? Or at the verra least have a shiny, full beard one can be boastful of? I mean, there are some hard-corsies out there. One time Brandon even saw an old dude with oxygen strapped to his back bowl like a 200.

And then there’s me.

I have my own ball and shoes, so that makes me a leeettle legit, but when one does not know how to use them correctly, it actually makes you look like a sad eager beaver, and I’m not going for that either. Though I’ll take that over having oxygen strapped to my back, but still. So Big B told me not to worry about it, that they’d give me a handicap to make it even and we’d have fun.

So last night it started. No competition yet, just played three games to find out what our handicaps will be next time we play. My scores were 105, 167, and 103. My goals were to not look like a reject but also to at least bowl over 100 every game, so I partially achieved them. There are four of us on the team: me, Husband, his dad Steve, and one of Steve’s co-workers that apparently really likes big billowy Hawaiian shirts. He was really good though, so I’m totally welcoming him on my team. C'mere big guy, let's hug!

So all in all, I truly didn’t do as bad as I thought I would. I’ll still have quite a high handicap, but I am okay with this because it is the only time in my life that I’ll ever want to, like, have a handicap. And I for shizzle did better than some drunken girl in a tube top on the other team that was doing more hoisting her shirt over her boobies than bowling. Who would put a tube top on to go bowl? Well, if you’re drunk enough, I guess anything makes sense…but anyway she totally sucked; bowled like a 67 and I felt bad BUT mostly glad that I at least beat somebody. Although a 67 is pretty good if you’re drunk, right? Maybe she was just cheating to get a high handicap. Note to self: look into this.

Our team name is like the weirdest in the world. I think it’s JACN: which stands for, and I think but am not sure: Just Another Crappy Name. And no that is not a joke. I don’t think any of us think very highly of ourselves? Meh if it had been up to me, I had have gone for something awesome, and combine two words in one, like the Strikerrifics, or if that doesn't work, how about Pork Soda? I pretty much decided right now that that is the most amazing team name eva! I suppose I am a quiet creative resource on the team that they have not yet tapped into. JACN my arse. Pish.

So, despite my monster migraine, this horrible anger I’ve had licking at my insides for days now, regardless of everything, I had fun. And I was surprised. :)

My handicap, by the way, is 69. That’s pretty high. But that’s alright. Being handicapped is fun.

It raises my self-esteem a notch or two to know that I bowl better than drunkards, you know? At least the one in tube-tops, anyway.

GO TEAM!!

The Art of Pretending

there was a little girl. She loved to pretend. She’d wear her older sister’s prom dresses and turn them into lavish princess gowns, she’d stuff her baby doll up her shirt and have it there for all of twenty minutes and she got bored before she gave birth to it and became a mother. One of this little girl’s favorite things was turning the ordinary into extraordinary. Spinning exotic tales and making her life less boring and less awful than it may have been.

This girl needs to learn how to do that again. For it is vital for her health, as well as those around her. But when you grow up, pretending isn’t so easy anymore. The optimism and awe you have for life fades right when reality gives you a swift kick to the left ovary and leaves you winded. You forget how to thrive, only survive. You realize you aren't a princess; you never were.

I think I’ve learned the trick to my own survival, in particular: to thrive, I need to pretend. That everything’s alright. Pretend that we have enough money to pay the bills and our staggering medical bills. Pretend like I don’t cry about that on a daily basis. Pretend like I’m not sick. Pretend like I am a decent mother. And a decent wife; even a decent person. I think it’ll be easier that way. I no longer have my dress-ups, or my barbies, or my best friend that I used to spend hours with, weaving tales of magic and mischief and unbelievablity. But I have a family who needs me to pretend I am a strong Queen, a ruler over the household, who can clean and cook and laugh like it ain’t no thang. A queen who no longer wears her husband out with her ill health. Or cries for half a day. A Strong Queen.

I can do this. I used to have an excellent imagination. It’s just a bit rusty, is all. It’ll come, I keep telling myself. It’ll come.

The End.

Tears

Well, the allergist left me a voicemail yesterday. I was unable to answer it because my phone was on silent while I was in the T’s office. It was quite brief, but he basically said what it came down to was that I am a liability. To him, I’m too much of a risk to be seen.

I don’t know why I’ve cried so much over this stupid doc I only saw for a few months. I guess I just feel like a major ass. I’m entirely humiliated that he doesn’t want to see me anymore, and maybe I’m taking it more personally than I should, I dunno.

I’ve been crying a lot today, which would actually be nice – I like crying because it feels gooooood and because I rarely do anymore. But crying does not feel goooooood when I am at work, not gonna lie here. Three times (yes THREE) I’ve had to leave my desk and bounce to the little girl’s room to wipe my tears (and I’ve only been here an hour and a half). I hate feeling out of control like this, and I hate even more that I’m feeling this way mainly due to an old guy that looks more like a mad scientist than doctor who tells me I have fat arms. Only, when I get mad at myself and tell myself to stop crying, I only cry more. I’ve always been quite the defiant little bugger, I guess.

I found a new allergist to go see, though; I have an appointment in a week or so. I will probably tell him nothing about my PEG tube or low body weight because that seems to be what freaked my other doc out. All he needs to know is my asthma is bad, my lungs are bad – and that’s it. I just need them fixed. I’ll leave all the old anorexia shit to my T and D. This MD definitely doesn’t need to know about it; most don’t really know what to do about that stuff anyway.

I think tonight I’m going to go to an eating disorder 12 step group sponsored by my church. I need something more than I’m getting, maybe spiritual edification can give me the relief I feel I need. I like 12 step because its focus is positive, there is no dwelling on the negative or the past, but on what one can do to move forward and what one can do to stay “sober.” I think I need a little more support than I’m getting now, so I’m going to try it.

Better stop typing. Can’t afford any more tears.

Oh, and PS: Feliz Cinco de Mayo! I've always loved this holiday, I think the six years I took of Spanish in jr. high and high school instilled a love and respect and loyalty to this Mexican holiday. Way to gain that hard-earned independence, Mexico. Love it!

I celebrated by eating a tostada at our Cinco de Mayo Fiesta at work. I also had a mint brownie, but I guess that doesn't count because it's not Mexican? Whatever it was good!

Holy Migraine of Fury

What a bi-polar weekend. On the happy side, my blogger friend JB came to visit, and we all had a wicked awesome time hanging out, but on a lame note, I definitely was feeling more than a little under the weather. I’m not sure if I’ve got the Swine Flu, or if my allergies and lungs are so bad it’s making me really, really sick, but I was feverish, I had a migraine the size of Texas THE ENTIRE TIME, and my body felt like it’d been hit by a truck full of hot garbage juice.

Finally, last night, with the help of migraine meds, a painkiller, and some ibuprofen, I was able to sleep, but woke up only a few hours later with that migraine pestering me again. Holy headache of fury, it’s literally been making its home and hearth on my poor noggin for weeks now. Doesn’t that mean you have a brain tumor or something? To wake up time and time again, over and over, with the worst headache of your life? Something just doesn’t seem right about that, I dunno.

We got some nice relaxing pedicures the other day, and you know how you sit in those massage chairs while they do it? Well mine thought it would be fun to massage my arse and it was like squeezing my hips and fisting my bum hole and I was like, eaaasssssy, personal space, you know? But once I figured out how to turn that ludicrous feature off (who would want a fisted bum?) it was niiiiiice. I actually even fell asleep, but was woken quite abruptly when the nice asian lady started using that pummus stone thingy to smooth my feet or whatever. It tickled hella bad and it was all I could do to not kick her in the face. My back was arched and I was gripping the chair and I was thinking that I definitely didn’t want to pay for tickled feet and bum fisting, and also her medical bill if I gave her a black eye, but it was soon over and I promptly fell asleep again.

Not much going on this week…see the T this afternoon, and my ED MD on Wednesday. Going to buy a new stove tonight, which should be uber awesome since ours currently smells like cat wiz (no it wasn’t my cats – they are not allowed in the oven – and who in the H bomb would even let their cats in the oven?) I mean, none of this makes sense, but there is a definite smell of cat pee which is rather disconcerting and confusing. I try not to think about it. But I’ll just say that eating a Totino’s frozen pizza (which isn’t very good anyway) that tasted like it had been baked in cat wiz was so not cool. Husband was starving enough to eat it anyway, and I pitied him and his desperation. What a weirdo.

Okay, anyway. I have nothing much to say, as you can tell, and it’s time for me to med up again to try to keep this monster migraine at bay. Shoot do you think I have a brain tumor? I’m seriously worried about this.

My allergy prick doc still hasn’t called me…it’ll be interesting to see if he does, and I’ll keep you updated…

Fired Again, Wow, this is Unbelievable.

Well, if you either follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you probably know that my allergist fired me yesterday. The doorbell rang, and there was the mail man, needing my signature for a certified letter. It was from my allergist, which surprised me, but didn’t alarm me – he’s mailed me stuff before. This is what the letter said:

Dear Ms. B______

In the best interest of patient care, you are hereby informed that you have 30 days in which to have your Medical Care and Records transferred to another Physician of your choosing. Your medical care at [Blank Blanks of Blank] will be terminated at this time.

And that was it. No explanation, no nothing. I called his office to find out why, and he was eva so conveniently out of town until Monday, at which time the office manager told me that she’d have him call me. I was acting like a blubbering fool though, crying and totally pissed at myself for crying, so it’s probably good I didn’t talk to him. When I do, I want to be intelligible and suave and not crying and dripping snot and mascara on my phone, you know?

It just hurt, is all. I haven’t done anything wrong, I’ve taken all my meds he’s given me as prescribed, which is the only condition he told me I’d need to uphold in order to continue to see him. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me, what there is about me that is so unwanted, or un-helpable, or something. Three docs have fired me in two months. I’m so pathetic. Blargh whatever.

My blog turned totally legit friend is flying in today to spend the weekend with me and another blogger buddy, so it should be fun – we always have a blast when she comes to town. I pick her up from the airport in the evening, at which time we are going to drive straight to my allergist’s home, take a giant shit on his doorstep, and light it on fire.

Have a fun weekend. I’m certainly going to try to, and dammit, I deserve it after this week!

Bye friends.