Burlap & Satin

There's a whopping new entry over at the photoblog. Don't have the password? Just ask. Otherwise, enjoy.

I've been kind of sick lately. It's a long story for another day (or for Twittering). Today though seems to be a good day, so rather than blog about all of it, I'm going to spend some time with my husband instead. Enjoy this little long bout of fun (stolen from Rasee) in the meantime.

Bold the things you've done, and underline the things you'd like to do. Simple.

I thought it would be interesting to go back through my 100 Things and see if any of them are still true. Judging by the way my life and myself have both transformed in the past three years, I'm betting not.

Originally posted 7/12/05. Wow, that seems like an eternity ago. (Keep an eye out for strikethroughs and italics.)

I find myself withdrawing. I don't know exactly why, maybe it's just easier? I'm a person that doesn't mind being alone - prefers it actually - and even though that's probably not healthy, it is what it is. As always, I will go back into my childhood for answers. I was basically a pain in the ass of every step-parent that ever raised me, so naturally, I spent a lot of time alone. I know now that my behaviors were those of normal children, but the entire concept of having to care for someone other than yourself was just a concept my step-parents and sometimes parents did not grasp well. So off I went, relegated to my bedroom to escape into my imagination, indulge in my alone-ness.

It's a feature that's both served me well and cursed me. I never truly learned how to properly interact with others, how to "be social." When people think I'm being a snob or stand-offish, in reality it's usually just me being afraid or too insecure to approach strangers. On the other hand, I used to be in theatre and I'm a natural performer in daily life. If you'd just met me, you would think I was loud, obnoxious, outgoing, forward. Sure, I can turn it on for strangers and I often turn it on for truly close friends that I trust, but for the most part I'm a very private person. I like to be at home with my animals, lost in my thoughts, wearing pajamas, yelling at the TV. Most people will tell you they like those same things too (who doesn't?), but for me it's become preferable to just about everything else. I don't leave the house much lately, I don't get dressed in real clothes much lately, and I certainly don't reach out to real live people much if at all.

I realize it's kind of a crutch, my reclusion. If I don't interact with new people, then there's no chance I'll make a fool out of myself, right? If I don't try to create new friends, then there will be no opportunities to stick my foot in my mouth at dinner, no? Hell, I feel awkward making small talk with a cashier at the grocery store. It's never shyness or irritability with others. It's always me and the crippling fear I'll make a fool out of myself. It's a fear that's followed me my whole life. I was teased a lot all throughout school and it's because of my forwardness and lack of inhibition that I have such an astounding number of truly cringeworthy embarassing moments in my history. My problem isn't fear of being exposed as an uninteresting twit, but rather it's the fear of having to explain and then assault new people with all my eccentricities and hope beyond hope that they will still understand.

I watch people connect and make small talk in every day life and I find myself absolutely enraptured. A introduces herself to B, they discuss mutual interests and acknowledge their immediate common denominator (same neighborhood, same breed of dog, same aged kids, same workplace, etc). At some point a connection is made and A or B is asking the other one to lunch, over for a cookout, exchanging business cards, telephone numbers, dog parks. The relationship is immediately furthered and an acquaintance and/or friend is created. I immediately begin thinking like a scientist/outsider, studying the indigenous behaviors of these two people. How did they know to ask that particular question? How did they know to progress the conversation that way? How did they so easily invite each other over for a barbecue? What is that like? Where did they learn that? Why don't I have that capability? Where did I not learn it?

I am evolved enough to know there isn't anything fundamentally wrong with me, per se. What I do believe is that if the proper sculpting isn't there in the beginning, then the shape of the clay 30 years later will be incredibly rough. It will not resemble anything else out there and it will not be considered the norm. That alone is sadly all it takes for massive rejection by the human race. We form groups, we categorize, we cluster, we classify ourselves, we classify others. It is what gives us a sense of order. I have learned that I look like I fit, but I don't. I appear to be normal, when I am not. I seem to have a common denominator, when I have none. I am a remarkable chameleon that blends with nothing or no one. It is both an invigorating and lonely place to live. In order to find others like you, you must approach a vast sea of others that appear normal and secretly hope that they are somewhat shattered, odd, broken and unkempt on the inside just like you. You must approach all the other Normals, tap their shells, prepare for them to reject you and run away. All in the hope of finding a single person that stays put, admires your amazing shape-shifting abilities and gives you the comfort of companionship.

At the same time though, if you are rejected, it is almost expected. So you retreat, hide, withdraw. It is easy and difficult all at the same time.

My life as of late, because I know you will be riveted:

-- Went home this past weekend. When I say home, I mean Eastern Ky where my dad lives, my hometown. It was nice. We went out on the pontoon, took some amazing photos of a late summer sunset and watched what's known as a FishCam while dad fished. (That thing is hilarious and makes fishing infinitely more entertaining - especially for non-fishing types like me.) Bogey had his first ever boat ride and handled it, well... swimmingly. In typical boy fashion, he was at the helm of the boat, taking on the smells as they came. Gypsy is more zen and likes to stay in place, letting the scents come to her. We spent the rest of the weekend watching Michael Phelps break records and playing with my dad's 80lb Labrador Retriever in the pool. It was a good time though, a good weekend and I needed the battery recharge. Plus, I hadn't seen my dad since we all went to the beach two months ago and it was nice.

-- Back in March, I had my first thyroid blood test in over a year. I was absolutely positive my dose would need to be adjusted and that my hypothyroidism had worsened. It was undeniable. When two ditzy girls from my new ineffectual doctor's office called afterward to tell me "everything is fine" with no further explanation, I was absolutely shocked. Dr. DoNothing has not called me to explain my TSH levels, nor does she even remember my name when I'm there. Over the past month, my symptoms have worsened to the point that I am almost incapacitated on a daily basis. I lay on the couch drifting in and out of sleep and I am immediately dizzy and/or feeling faint as soon as I stand or sit up. My periods have become irregular again, my hair is falling out at a small but steady pace, my memory and comprehension are pretty much shot, and my throat is thick again and I have difficulty swallowing. It is the exact same scenario as four years ago, before I was ever properly diagnosed. I'm sick of Dr. DoNothing and I've had it with picking my doctors out of a phone book. So now I've spent the past month calling endocrinologists and researching in depth every local doctor I can find. If they haven't published any studies that specifically focus on hypothyroid, then they don't get my business. Simple as that. I don't have the time or energy to keep wasting co-pays on doctors that treat hypothyroidism like it is the common cold, easily treatable and a waste of their time. It is a complex illness that affects every single organ system. So I need a specialist.

Of course, now that I have managed to find one that specializes in hypothyroid and the causes of hypothyroid, I cannot even get through to his office staff. I repeatedly get a message saying that if I wish to schedule an appointment, "leave a message." What the...? Does this mean that he's really good and busy or that he's just a jackass?
Man, I miss my old awesome doctor. I'd give anything to have five minutes of her time and a good referral. Preferably before I fall asleep at the wheel someday from pure exhaustion. Poor Husband is very worried about me and continues to try reaching this new doctor every day leaving desperate messages. It's really all we can do right now.

-- My mom is separating from her fifth husband. Yes, fifth. It's a good thing I guess, but what good does a separation do if you're constantly staying overnight at your estranged spouse's apartment? Whenever she's not around him, she's somewhat normal again, laughing and confident. The minute she's with him, she's back to nerve-wracking neediness again, bitching about everything under the sun and demanding that I fix everything. Part of me wants them to be divorced and have it done with. The other part of me dreads taking care of her when she's alone, drinking too much and unable to handle life on her own. It's a slippery slope, being the daughter of my mother. You help her too much, she'll use you, never thank you and make you insane. You offer her too little of your comfort and time, she acts like you're the coldest person on the planet and tells everyone how much "you hate her." There is no winning and I am done trying. All I can do is offer tips and advice, then step back. I have my own life to worry about. After the childhood I had, I'm not about to ruin what's left of my adulthood.

-- Since putting in our new floor, we've taken a break from big home renovations for a while. Sure, we still do little projects here and there, but with my current health status, it's just not worth it for me to be hammering, sanding and painting away right now. So we live on our awesome nice floor and wait for life to even out. I have come to terms with the fact that what we are doing right now is all we can do. I'd love to be able to do more (I always want to do more), but I have to be patient. My body deserves my time and it's my job to give it just that.

-- Tomorrow I have to see Dr. DoNothing because apparently she doesn't believe I still have asthma and won't refill my rescue inhaler until she sees me. If I have a massive asthma attack and have to go to the ER before tomorrow, send her the bill for me, would ya?

-- Tuesday I finally see a damned endocrinologist! My biggest worry at this point is that they will do a million tests and find nothing wrong with me. So, um, pray for sickness please? Well, at least on Tuesday?

-- Right after I wrote that last entry, my mom was told by a doctor that she has a "probable lymphoma" on her arm. After scheduling her MRI, she went outside to clear her head and walk her dogs. Then she tripped over her feet and broke her foot. She's now in a cast. It's Medical Week here at Chez Staz! Yippee!

-- Did I mention we're planning to take our yearly trip to Michigan at the end of the week? You know, the day after my endo appointment and all my tests? *sigh* It's almost too much to think about.

-- This book that I'm reading is absolutely amazing. If you're a sick person like me that has had a lot of crappy doctors, I highly recommend it. I have a feeling it's going to completely change the way I talk to my doctors from now on.

*sigh* It never ends in health care, does it? The complications, the wild cards, the delays. Yesterday, I finally had my most-dreaded appointment with Dr. DoNothing and ended up being completely surprised. Not only was she sympathetic and listening to me, but she was on top of her game for the first time since I've started seeing her. She went over my last blood test results (six months ago) and agreed that even though I was within "normal" range, I probably needed to be tweaked a little still. (Woah.) She then prescribed numerous extra blood tests for me to have done at the endocrinologist today and gave me copies of all my previous thyroid records. Seriously, this woman really wowed us yesterday. (Maybe I should change her name to Dr. DoSomething?)

So then we arrive at today. I was dreading the blood test (as is normal with me) and got a grand total of two hours sleep the night before. I'd also been dogsitting my mom's annoying-ass yappy dogs for two days and my nerves were on edge. But I did everything right. I brought my paperwork, we arrived early, I had my sedatives in hand ready to take about 20 minutes before the bloodwork began. We get there, there is no paperwork for me. They don't even have my name on the roster. Dr. DoNothing had faxed over everything she was supposed to and all was in order. Dr. Endo had seen no record of my appointment and had left for the day. Yeah. Eventually, after waiting about 20 minutes, the office manager came out and informed us that we would have to reschedule, as Dr. Endo is not even close to the building and hasn't even seen my paperwork yet. I asked if I could come back tomorrow because I really wanted this bloodwork done and out of the way.

Her response was, "She's only here on Tuesdays."
To which J.'s sharp-yet-awesome reply was, "Except this one."

If you could only have seen my absolute mental breakdown sitting outside on a bench in front of the entire medical community. Blood tests are so fucking impossible for me. I spend days, weeks dreading them, working myself up, trying not to panic, having nightmares, trying not to hyperventilate and overstimulate myself. I had also fasted for nearly 12 hours and was starving. All they had to do was show up for one appointment. ONE. (Did I mention I was the only endocrinologist appt scheduled that day? Yet they still couldn't be bothered to show up? For ONE appointment?)

Dr. DoNothing offered to do some of the bloodwork for me that day, but in the end, I don't want to have two separate blood tests to worry about in the same week - one from Dr. DoNothing, one from Dr. Endo. I just want it all done at once, I want it over.

I am scheduled for another appointment next Tuesday. This is how desperate I am for answers, I will put myself through anxiety hell for another week just to speak to someone that understands my thyroid. I was assured that Dr. Endo WILL be there (and by the look on the office manager's face, I believe this) and I am one of the first appointments of the day. Still, considering I am a new patient and had never met this doctor before, it's a hell of a first impression, don't you think?

It just sucks in a bad way. I was so excited (and worked up) for this endo appt and now I know absolutely nothing. Square One really is not where I wanted to be. This is one of the reasons I cried my eyes out earlier today. I didn't want to go another week not knowing. I didn't want to feel this bone-crushing exhaustion for yet another seven days. I didn't want to feel like a burden on my husband and animals because I am so useless lately. I didn't want to continue living like this for another week just to have to wait on test results for days afterward. It all just sucks.

But that's where I am. What can I do?

I need some happy up in this joint, so today is video day!

If you've ever tried to train a beagle to do anything, you will understand why this video initially amazes me and then has me laughing my ass off.

And this one is simply the most adorable video ever made. Seriously.

With that, I am off to take my own hounds to lunch and maybe the dog park. We'll see what I have the energy to do what they "persuade" me into doing.

I want someone to notice who I really am.
I want someone to notice how much I am changing.
I want someone to notice how much I am thinking.
I want someone to notice how internal I am.
I want someone to find my introspection intriguing and amazing.
I want someone to see my quiet and notice it for fatigue.
I want someone to see how many years I've really lived.
I want someone to join me without me having to ask.
I want someone to allow me to come out on my own.
I want someone to give me time to emerge.
I want someone to balance my cautious anxieties.
I want someone to encourage my talent with utter certainty.
I want someone to reach out to me for a change.
I want someone to refuse to let me withdraw.
I want someone to look at me like I am approachable.
I want someone to push past my nervous paranoia.
I want someone to notice my knowledge and appreciate it.
I want someone to see my compassion and revel in it.
I want someone to value me as the unique person I am.
I want someone to teach me how to value others.
I want someone to enjoy my incessant talking.
I want someone to enjoy my sarcastic nature.
I want someone to let me be myself.
I want someone to let me enjoy being with others.
I want someone to revel in me enjoying being my own self.