Category: Health

Oh, grrreat.

Migraine sign this morning.  It’s probably from the nifty weather change.  (Last night, graupel mixed with sleet and punctuated by lightning as I came back from dropping Katie off (and thanks for the hairchop, girl!))

On a hunch, I went back and looked at the barometer for my Weekend of Crazyâ„¢and now I have something to else think about, because the barometer did leap and gambol like a spring lamb immediately prior to the wackiness.

I have never been able to get a thyroid diagnosis because the test results don’t support it.  However, just about everything that I’ve experienced in the last little while could be explained by thyroid problems, which occur in my family.  More interesting stuff to ponder I s’pose.  In the meantime, I need to get away from a computer screen, cause, like, that never helps, as I know from experience.

PS I wondered if this was a migraine when I heard about it.  Oh great, my tongue is going numb and I’m getting tingling and numbness in my fingers…..  This is going to be a helluva day.

Most mornings I awaken

to the sound of Jeff tapping on his keyboard.  Sometimes it’s a cat and that staccato defooding sound in some very long-to-be-discovered corner.  Sometimes it’s the smell of a skunk penetrating through the window; sometimes it’s my natural clock, which spits me back out into consciousness anywhere between 2 and 7 am.  Sometimes it’s a leg cramp, and that’s what I got this morning.  I woke to pain pain pain and had a hell of a time getting my foot flat to the ground to get the muscle stretched out and the muscle – the same one I blew out running for the bus the year after I hurt my back – is still grumbling and hot.  Ah, but pain is what tells you that you’re alive.

Daughter Katie came over last night.  I picked her up after work (Dax tried to scare me by materializing next to my car window, but Katie had the kindness to warn me, so I let him know that he WOULD have given me a heart attack if I hadn’t been warned.  He also told me the size of his paycheck, which was respectable for his age and educational level) and then fed her and Jeff home baked schnitzel and veg, and we talked and watched CSI and the Mentalist, which amusingly enough had identical plots, and then we walked up to 7-11 where I got her bus tickets and milk and eggs for myself, waited with her for her bus and then walked home.  Canada Way is so noisy for pedestrians it’s practically deafening; two streets in Jeff and I enjoy a very peaceful little enclave, no barking dogs or noisy neighbours, and yet we’re smack in the center of Edmonds, 10th, Kingsway and Canada Way, all busy arterial streets.  We do get train noise at night as it echoes in the Fraser Valley and comes up the hill; we get the eerie booming noises at night that are actually special effects explosions down in that movie set off of Marine down in the flats; and we get airplane noise a fair bit, although rarely at very low levels, and hardly ever helicopter noise, which scares the crap out of me.

Soon there will be a visit by the rest of Paul’s family to abide for a while in the bosom of the alternative justice system of BC.  I have decided that with all my quirks and drama I’m best off staying away.  My mother is hosting them and that will be the right end of the family to shelter and help them while this goes on; who can say what will happen but I earnestly hope for some closure and a feeling that it’s what John would have wanted rather than a trial and jail for the woman whose inattentive driving killed him.

I am very seriously thinking of either giving Ziva to a family member or selling her.  I have taken so much pleasure in owning her that it may seem a little odd, but if I’m going to be that close to the new location of the office and I can still borrow Jeff’s car occasionally to shop, I should be in good shape to have enjoyed her and then released her back into the wild.  Neither of the kids have evinced much interest because they don’t really have the cash flow.

Ocelots at the Seattle zoo.

I am waiting for Jeff to awaken so I can cook him breakfast.  Finn pancakes and coffee; I’m going to have mine with applewood smoked cheddar.

I have shippiles of work to do today; I have Valentines to create.  I am planning on sneaking into work on Sunday after church and putting them in people’s mail trays.  Every year it’s the same thing.  People are travelling, or they never check their mail trays, and the next thing you know you’re getting thanked for the Valentine on March 1st.

I brought home the flowers Jeff and the folks gave me and they are still gorgeous and sweetly scented.  I know cut flowers are frowned on by some people in my connection, but I will never frown.  Their colour and scent brightened my work area and made many other people happy but me for the balance of the week, and now they’ll be pretty in my kitchen until they’re done.

I send a hug into the ether for Lady Miss B and warm wishes to her hub and miniB, and a big old mushy group hug for Tom and Peggy, my folks and brother (nearly typed bother, and that was NOT my intent), Scott for digging up the name of the psychologist for me, my coworkers Mike Y and Hassan and Kev and Patricia, and I blow kisses at Veronica.  Sneetchy scowling at some other folks for workpain, but I won’t name them. More hugs for Rev. Katie who visited me in sickness and hell that’s what ministers are s’posed to do, and Sue, Carol, Kathleen and Gary for a really good board meeting.  I wish the contractors working on the new building the time, money and safety to do a good job.

I wish a lot of things.  It’s strange to think that this time last week I wished for nothing but cessation of wishing.

Life is good.  I’m going to go work on Dandelions Dreaming now, it’s the best thing I can think of for Peggy’s birthday.  Later today I’m going to talk to Jeff about capturing video from games so I can do something really kickass for Left4Dead/Rising in a Zombieland Redemption, which is the new and deliberately awkward title for my zombie choon, and it may get even longer, at which point I’ll shorten it again.  Such is the creative process; you put your best shit in, you take you best shit out, you put your best shit in, and you shake it all about.

A possible explanation

As you can imagine, I’ve spent most of my spare processing cycles trying to figure out WHAT the hell happened when I did my spiral dive into that bleak bleak river.

I went back through the previous week, trying to remember if there was anything.  And then I remembered.  Thursday morning I got one of my classic migraine signs.  This is going to sound disgusting, but it is absolutely true.  My nasal mucus changes consistency.  It turns into something that resembles frog spawn.  It is my single most consistent migraine sign.  Unfortunately for its predictive uses, I don’t always get what I have in the past considered to be a migraine once I get ‘the little spheres’, so I don’t worry about it until something else happens.

Click.

The something else might have been a tight necklace.  So so trivial.

I looked back; food had little to no taste for about three weeks prior to the event.  Food losing its flavour is a migraine sign in some people. I had never experienced it, but the neurologist told me I had atypical migraines.  And how.

Abruptly I had no moral or emotional sense of gray, everything was black and white.  It was literally as if the parts of my brain where I process music and humour and uncertainty were starved of oxygen.  I had no perspective; there were certain thoughts I couldn’t process.  Now I look back and it all seems wildly crazy.  All me, but not normal.  I have bad thoughts and I lie down in my mind until they go by, normally; this time I COULDN’T.

The physical sensation I got of relief as I drove out to Wreck Beach.  “The lift” I call it when the migraine stops oppressing me. It was only this evening that I related the migraine lifting to that sensation I got while I was driving.

Of course I had no sense of having a migraine.  I got no flashes, no creeping scalp, no tingling and numbness, no light sensitivity, no ptosis, no head pain, no nausea, no aphasia, no aura, no blind spots, none of the normal range of migraine symptoms that I get and which I am quite comfortable with and find perfectly manageable.

I got wild and really very disturbing alterations in the experience of the relative size of various body parts (my sensory homunculus was scunnered) especially when I was sitting; my dreams were more vivid than usual and I felt like my eyes were the wrong size but that probably had quite a bit to do with me crying non stop for two days, which was also very far out of left field if it was a migraine sign.

The suddenness with which it came on and the suddenness with which it departed, leaving me in that stoically sad afterphase of a migraine which usually lasts a couple of days and lifts is what is really making me think I’m on the right track.

I’m still seeing the psychologist though.  I got the cash, and I sure have the motivation.  What a horrible experience, and how horrible for everyone else.  I have only one thought.  How do I prevent this from happening again?  I thought I might stop having migraines after menopause, but if this is a sample of my future migraines, my relatives and friends are going to need to keep me locked in a dark room until I quit raving.

Funny pic

Lovely caption…

Katie slept over at Dax’s last night.  They are looking for an apartment together. These next two sentences deleted on the insistence of counsel, who is currently shaking her perkily coiffed head and pointing to a sign indicating how long things you don’t want to be reminded of last on the internet.  Yeah, darlin’, I see it.  Oh well.  Katie can’t live here forever, and much though the prospect fails to entrance me, it’s her life, not mine.

Yesterday was not a complete writeoff; I got a couple of things I needed to do done, I went to church (how early do I have to get there to precede Dave T?  The man’s driving 15 times the distance I do and he still beats me!), did set up, watched everybody take my set up apart and make it better (weird and uncomfortable and full of fail on my part, but in my defense my instructions were unclear), took it all down except the basement, ’cause Sue did it for me so I could drive Carol home, (and may I just interject that when you’re asked to do a service on less than 12 hours’ notice – Rev Katie was ill – and you do it that well, you can expect me to be impressed, thank you Sue and an early happy birthday because I will likely forget) – next two sentences deleted involving pee and ice cream; I burned up a piece of paper with all the things I want to get rid of out of my life on it (personal failings) for the Fire Communion, realized that as much as I love the lyrics of Tennyson’s Ring Out Wild Bells, the choon as limned in the hymnal blows a dozer, and you know what? I ain’t writing a new one. We have the best of accompanists in David, but a song leader would be optimal.  I also cooked curried chicken, got in a walk in the blazing sunshine, and took the banner home to be Amazed. Ralph told me I might like a new book he’d heard about called Godless Religion or maybe it’s called Religion without God.  After all, the experience of awe and wonder belongs to all hoomins.

So, did that sentence about the banner irk you?  Amaze is powdered enzyme tucked in with a lot of surfactants.  I don’t actually know the ingredients but that’s my guess.  The old outdoor church banner (which we just started hanging out front again since we have the perfect railing to tie it to and it magically reappeared from wherever it had been in storage) is covered in an unlovely combination of urban grime, Vancouver exterior mold, & soap scum from the last attempt to clean it; suffice it to say that it’s so filthy that the scuff marks are impossible to tell from the dirt.  I hope to clean the banner today, and I so hope it comes out cleaner, and that I can winkle the dirt out of the creases.

(later…. I’ve been consulting experts, and recommendations have been made, incl. GooGone).

I went to Candace’s and collected my music stuff so I can take it to Conflikt.

Spent some quality time with Katie.

Visited with Keith and Paul for a while.

I am extremely sad and upset about something that I can’t talk about here, but I won’t dodge that I’m upset.  I’m autism spectrum and I don’t actually get a lot of the social BS and I shouldn’t bother teasing people, especially when I already know the person I’m teasing is (this observation deleted) and in chronic physical pain.  I would have preferred an opportunity to fix it, but such is life.  It is a loss.  Another one.  I could write a long self justifying rant, but that is precisely what… oh, never mind.  So many other people have that covered these days….

Today, we sing.  Keith has decided to join me and Paul; we’ll be heading over to Tom and Peggy’s this afternoon.  That’s going to happen, period.  Not enough singing in my life and I have to debut two new songs.  I am so happy Paul’s job dragged him out to Vancouver.  I couldn’t invent Tom and Peggy and they are so spectacularly wonderful, I can’t imagine life without them now.

Since my chances of actually getting it all done are minimal, I propose NOT mentioning my list today.  But there are three items on it…. I will report back success.  If any.  Singing doesn’t count; that’s going to happen today without fail.

The diagnosis game

To protect Katie’s dignity and privacy I won’t go into much of the background stuff.  The foreground stuff is a lot of me shaking my head and going “This is bullshit.” (From disbelief, disappointment, anger, fear and vanity.)  At the same time I’m hearing things I didn’t hear about at the time they happened and I’m starting to understand how parents can wake up one morning and find one of their kids hanging from something or possibly having left town abruptly or maybe just plain old O.D’ed.  “But I had no idea he was so upset!”  Yeah…..  My daughter’s having a crisis and all I can think about is how it affects me – how it makes me look.  How mature!  so I’m really trying to make an effort to not make it about me; it was easy enough to do when she didn’t live with me for the best part of five years.  Now she’s sleeping on the media room couch (why didn’t she go to bed? Bet she stayed up talking to Keith…)

She is feeling better.  She says so.  She’s diurnal again.  She’s painting a lot.  She’s going to Victoria today with her brother.  She swapped my laundry over for me last night so I’ve got clean clothes this morning.

I am also thinking A LOT these days about Elly, and thinking I should get on the phone with her.  She is just about the most loving and sensible woman I ever met, and I hope she can help me with what’s happening, just for perspective, just for asking pointed questions, giving sage advice.

I hope Katie and Keith have a lovely time in Victoria.  She’s taking her easel.

Paste that smile on lucky bastard

Maybe I’m the luckiest person on earth, but I don’t feel that way now.

Katie took me to the reptile house at the King Eddy pet store Saturday and I FELL IN LOVE.  I mean head over heels, you are mine forever, with a Senegal chameleon.  One critter made straight for me and attempted to mate through the glass with my big ol’ hat.  The ferrets made me ill though, their scent has always been too much for me.  Mr. Man at the store said that Senegal chameleons are for experienced reptile fanciers; I should stick with a twenty dollar anole for starters.  Four hundred bones will get me into a chameleon; whatever sex it was it was an extremely personable reptile.

Talked to Dowker yesterday; I’d been going crazy (yeah, yeah, I know) trying to figure out what the name of a song on a mix tape he made for me in 1990 was.  After a lot of backing and forthing it was the written as a Joy Division song BUT released as a New Order song called “In a Lonely Place” which has the best opening drum roll OF ALL TIME.  Anyway, now I can listen to it any time I want, and oh oh oh those cymbal crashes.  Also big time heaping good.

Also found Big Hard Sun by Indio and am learning the song.

Watched Meryl Streep in Dark Matter.  Bloody sad movie.

I’m getting a migraine.  I’m fine until I look at a screen, and then half my visual field gets sucked up into a rainbow and static hole.

Church was okay.  Not a big fan of intergenerationals, but I had to do set up and count, so there I was.  No church on Boxing Day so I suppose I could go to the folks that day.  The kids are making noises about going earlier than that.

There’s loads of yummy leftovers in the fridge.

Keith and Paul and I sang and played last night.  Keith is getting quite feisty on the bass.

Leftovers

The roast beest leftovers were if anything even better the second day.  The words ‘enough gravy’ really helped.  It was a tad lumpy, but oh so good.

My mental state is pretty leftover too – there’s a couple of days after a migraine where I just don’t work, brain-wise, normally, although the argument could be made that having a migraine has little to do with that.

Migraine

I’m still a little light sensitive but I have no real excuse not to go to work, so I will go.  I completely lost yesterday.  Around 7:55 I put the roast into the slow cooker. Around 8 am I got ‘the flashies’ and by 8:30 I had stabbing pain behind my eye and then poof the center of my visual field disappeared.  I drank a cup of coffee and went back to bed.  Around 11:15 I woke up again and moved like arthritic crow through the house trying to determine if there was anything useful I could do, but moving made me nauseated so I lay back down.  Around 2 I ran a hot bath and around 4 I managed to get mobile enough to put the veggies on to roast (braised beast with oven roasted potatoes, yams and squash).  Keith and Paul ate dinner with me (my appetite returned when my visual field did) and Jeff was kept late at work but he pronounced my efforts awesome, which was good enough for me.  I hadn’t fed him a proper meal in ages so it’s quite funny that the one day I was really in no shape to do it I could – but it was literally the only thing I did yesterday.

1800 dollars poorer, I emerged

I have expensive hobbies, by damn.  I went to pick up Ziva and between all the brakes and calipers being replaced (the rear calipers being more expensive as being entwined with the emergency brake) and three engine mounts (which instantly reduced the engine noise on acceleration to a “healthy roar” as opposed to this weirdass growlyticking which a noob like me could mistake for bearing noise) I had to reach a little deeper into my pocket than the original estimate.

Another unintended side effect was that the engine idle revs finally dropped below 1000, which is where it’s supposed to be.  It had been up over 1200 for a couple of months, probably starting when the first engine mount collapsed.  When the car is running perfectly and brand new, excuse me, idle revs are supposed to be 750, but I’d settle for her revving under 1000, as there’s a little issue of gas consumption.  It will be interesting to see if the mileage gets better as a consequence, but even if it does it won’t likely be too noticeable, maybe 20 k on the tank.

Katie and I watched (or she fitfully snoozed through) the first three eps of The Wire.  I shook her awake for the explanation of chess as if it was the drug game; it’s one of the best pieces of writing in the show, and that’s going some.  It was also interesting to see how each character was introduced, not as if this was a first episode, but as if you’re joining a continuing story and it’s your job to keep up.  Of course I noticed dozens of things I hadn’t the first time around.  Like Deadwood and Saving Grace and Homicide, it repays repeated viewings.

Katie’s off at Dax’s now.  She knows he’s no good for her, and still she goes. (Part of his current attractiveness is that he’s living with a young married couple with a two month old babby).   His latest is to suggest that they go to a casino…. on her money.  Her response was “Put the money in my hand and we’ll talk about it” so I guess not all the sane has rubbed off yet.  Sigh.  Given her parental history (mater and pater) of absorbing troubling amounts of abuse and neglect, she could go like this for years, and we’re coming up on 8 years they’ve been spinning around each other like a couple of eccentric Kuiper Belt objects.

Now that I have a car again (I wasn’t planning for her being gone for two whole days) I have a very very very large running around list.

The temporary crown went on without mishap.  I am getting a blast of cloves into my mouth from it every once in a while, and thinking of Katie K every time I do, because she’s hideously allergic to cloves.  I wonder how that makes dental work for her. Anyway I recommend Dr. Katz.  He does precision work and is very civilized, and what the heck else does one want from a dentist anyway.

Various

I spent the weekend in the bosom of my family (having declared a mental health emergency) and am feeling much restored.  I’d like to thank Paul for coming over and dragging me off to Deer Lake for a walk and then cooking dinner at Geekhaus AND cleaning up after.  Sanity ++, thank you.

Keith took fireworks over to a friend’s place last night.  I expect a report on the reports.

Katie worked midnights on Saturday and I felt so sorry for her I went to pick her up.

Nasty hydroplane conditions on the hill this morning … really nasty.

Elizabeth Fry

Wikipedia article here.

The executive director of the Elizabeth Fry Society talked at church today.  I’ve bitched about Sheriff Arpaio for allowing a woman to deliver her child in irons, and today I found out, while tears exploded out of my eyes THAT CANADIAN CITIZENS WHO GIVE BIRTH IN JAIL DO SO IN HANDCUFFS.

My disgust for the Canadian ‘justice’ system has never been greater.  No… words.

More comments about family and internet and church

I got to see Katie’s apartment yesterday!  We can tell she’s a real New West Girl, she can see the bridge from one window.  She doesn’t think she’ll be cold this winter, but the scarred single pane windows (they haven’t been painted since Tommy Douglas was alive, if appearances are anything to go by) and her remoteness from the furnace lead me to believe otherwise.

Despite the 101 bus going right by her place and despite how close she is to the Skytrain tracks, it’s a quiet house.  She lives there with Mona and a couple of other people in a house sharing arrangement.  Mona’s about my age.  She lives on the ground floor, Katie lives in the attic and some guy lives in the basement.

Daxus is currently living with a married couple who just had their first child – at home.  Katie doesn’t believe this living arrangement is likely to last but I’m sort of hoping it does.

Paul returned safely from Ontario.  He and I and Keith and Jeff supped upon a variety of things including the two cobs of corn I harvested from the garden.  They were tiny but perfect.  Now that I know corn will grow nicely in that location I will plant more next year, and earlier, too.

The quinoa harvest has started; it was either that or let them rot on their stalks.  The first batch is hulled, but by god they are still very bitter with the saponin layer, and most of the grains are much smaller than the commercial variety.  I will have to clean them some more.  I have to find a more efficient way to clean them.

I was invited to Tanya’s and to Baumfest this weekend and as I was feeling quite low I didn’t go.

Church was excellent.  The minister preached of one of the theologians of Unitarian Universalism, Hosea Ballou.

Chipper sends me this disheartening news from the internet front.  Disgusting.

Ziva is running quite rough – she hates the wet.

I have a sound tech for the Social Justice Open Mic.