What the hell have I been up to?
Aug. 29th, 2009 12:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
outsdrI've been too silent for too long here, so ... here's my life:
Far too much time this summer was spent fixing computers at the hotel. The main computer, which acts as the file server as well as a workstation, decided to start acting really funky, and needed to be replaced. Of course, the trouble with that is that it's hard to take it offline during working hours, of course. I ordered the parts I needed to build a new computer (and it's a sweet box!) got started building it ... and the motherboard was bad. I RMA'd it, but it took a week for the board to come in. Meanwhile, the old server is in pieces and useless, so I split the filesharing/server duties up between two different workstations and we limped along until the new part came in. Everything has been running fine and dandy since. One of my bosses, however, threatened to fire me in the midst of all this. His words were, "While you've done a good job in the past, maybe it's time to find someone new." A good job in the past equals five years of excellent service, apparently which warrants nothing against two months of bad machines, a situation that would have happened whether I worked there or not. But nothing further has been said, so I'm just doing my job until the time comes when I don't do my job.
My Father
After the one very scary phone call I mentioned before, my father's doctor decided that his gall bladder needsto come out and a colonscopy needs to be done, along with a hernia being fixed. All at the same time. Better than stretching it out, i suppose. I talked to him last night, and he sounded stronger and better, probably because finally something is going to be done.
My Grandmother
My maternal grandmother has had cancer for years. I'm not sure of the extent of it, although I believe it started as melanoma on her leg. For most of those years, she underwent experimental treatments in Pittsburgh. I told her that I was happy to be able to tell people that my grandmother was an experimental test subject. About two weeks ago, all of her children gathered with her in the hospital to discuss her future, along with numerous other relatives. I called and spoke to her then; it was like a mini family reunion.
Not many days after that, her health began to decline, and she stopped eating. My mother and I both felt that she had chosen the time to for her to go, and neither of us wanted to see her linger and suffer, a possibility that her doctor mentioned because her heart was still very strong, even at age 85. She was moved to hospice so she could be given morphine, and the next day she died. I can't help but feel she planned it out, really. I won't be attending the funeral for a number of reasons, and neither will my mother, but both of us feel that we were able to say goodbye properly and we were ready for her death when the time came. I'm glad she is not suffering.
Me
Where to start? Since the beginning of May, I've been taking antidepressants again, for numerous reasons. After dealing with depression for the past 20 years (and suffering from it long before that) I could feel the gathering storm at the edge of my brain, and new I had to take a proactive stance, or things would be bad. So, back on the meds I went. I'm currently taking 450mgs of Wellbutrin daily, boosted by 10mgs of Abilify, a wickedly expensive drug that does a lot of good. It's $100 for a week's supply.
I had a nerve conduction test in my arms (NOT FUN- it involved needles being shoved into muscle tissue and electric shocks) to determine how much nerve damage has occurred. Everything seems to have been normal, except for my ulner nerve (the funny bone nerve) which was showing some damage. So, once again, puzzled looks from the doctor as he tries to determine what is causing the problems I'm having. I'm assuming at some point the neurosurgeon will get back in touch with me to schedule a followup appointment; if I haven't head from him in a week's time, I'm going to call. My father urged me to get the surgery if it's offered; he had surgery to fix problems on his back and felt he waited longer than he should of, and it didn't help as much as it could. Other family members have also put of necessary surgery to bad results.
I still drop things, and my hands still get shaky, and typing is a chore, but the neurotin I take (900mgs per day, with another 300 if necessary) controls the pain and the weakness. Doesn't fix anything, however. That's where surgery is going to come in, I'm sure. And itwillhappen before the end of the year if I have anything to say about it, because I've finally met my $5,500 insurance decutible and now they start paying 100% for things, it seems. Go me! Hurray for crushing debt loads!
That's also why I'm going to see a surgeon next week to set a date for getting my umbilical hernia fixed. It bulges and it hurts. The surgeries are done arthoscopically now, and a piece of gortex mesh is sewn over the hernia to cover the damage. But it's yet another surgery to recover from.
One of the ways I've always used to help control depression is by micro-managing my life so it doesn't get too chaotic and overwhelming. It's very easy to just give up in the face of piles of bills and unsorted laundry and etc etc. Random things really upset my brain. It's hard enough to deal with my other health problems, my work, my home life and my pets without other random events. This led me to do something very difficult and painful.
For the past year and a half, one of my old college friends has been living with Andy and myself at the house. She's been a great roommate, and i've enjoyed her company, and the pets love her ... and last week, I asked her to move out when she's done with her work assignment. I felt like a prick doing so, because she hasn't done anything wrong. Oh there were the little things that bugged me, like with any roommate (cooking liver... ewwwww), but nothing big. So she probably felt blindsided when I told her. As the old saying goes, it's not her, it's me. With my mental state and my physical state, I just want to have the house to myself (and Andy, the closest thing to a partner I'll ever have- I'd be lost without him around.) It's very hard for me to show any weakness in front of anyone, especially physical. Dropping things when there's witnesses makes me want to go and hide. The medicine I take can also make me irritable, and the mental illness can make me over react, and it's not fair to subject someone else to that. Plus, Andy and I want to move in a year, and we need to get ready. Plus, it feels like the house is closining on me, and I need more space. Plus ... plus ... plus ... many other reasons that sound silly outside of my own head.
So, i know it doesn't make up for it, but it's really me, not you, Mel. Sorry.
So, that's it. A brief (ha!) rundown of my current state of being. And now the payoff:
Far too much time this summer was spent fixing computers at the hotel. The main computer, which acts as the file server as well as a workstation, decided to start acting really funky, and needed to be replaced. Of course, the trouble with that is that it's hard to take it offline during working hours, of course. I ordered the parts I needed to build a new computer (and it's a sweet box!) got started building it ... and the motherboard was bad. I RMA'd it, but it took a week for the board to come in. Meanwhile, the old server is in pieces and useless, so I split the filesharing/server duties up between two different workstations and we limped along until the new part came in. Everything has been running fine and dandy since. One of my bosses, however, threatened to fire me in the midst of all this. His words were, "While you've done a good job in the past, maybe it's time to find someone new." A good job in the past equals five years of excellent service, apparently which warrants nothing against two months of bad machines, a situation that would have happened whether I worked there or not. But nothing further has been said, so I'm just doing my job until the time comes when I don't do my job.
My Father
After the one very scary phone call I mentioned before, my father's doctor decided that his gall bladder needsto come out and a colonscopy needs to be done, along with a hernia being fixed. All at the same time. Better than stretching it out, i suppose. I talked to him last night, and he sounded stronger and better, probably because finally something is going to be done.
My Grandmother
My maternal grandmother has had cancer for years. I'm not sure of the extent of it, although I believe it started as melanoma on her leg. For most of those years, she underwent experimental treatments in Pittsburgh. I told her that I was happy to be able to tell people that my grandmother was an experimental test subject. About two weeks ago, all of her children gathered with her in the hospital to discuss her future, along with numerous other relatives. I called and spoke to her then; it was like a mini family reunion.
Not many days after that, her health began to decline, and she stopped eating. My mother and I both felt that she had chosen the time to for her to go, and neither of us wanted to see her linger and suffer, a possibility that her doctor mentioned because her heart was still very strong, even at age 85. She was moved to hospice so she could be given morphine, and the next day she died. I can't help but feel she planned it out, really. I won't be attending the funeral for a number of reasons, and neither will my mother, but both of us feel that we were able to say goodbye properly and we were ready for her death when the time came. I'm glad she is not suffering.
Me
Where to start? Since the beginning of May, I've been taking antidepressants again, for numerous reasons. After dealing with depression for the past 20 years (and suffering from it long before that) I could feel the gathering storm at the edge of my brain, and new I had to take a proactive stance, or things would be bad. So, back on the meds I went. I'm currently taking 450mgs of Wellbutrin daily, boosted by 10mgs of Abilify, a wickedly expensive drug that does a lot of good. It's $100 for a week's supply.
I had a nerve conduction test in my arms (NOT FUN- it involved needles being shoved into muscle tissue and electric shocks) to determine how much nerve damage has occurred. Everything seems to have been normal, except for my ulner nerve (the funny bone nerve) which was showing some damage. So, once again, puzzled looks from the doctor as he tries to determine what is causing the problems I'm having. I'm assuming at some point the neurosurgeon will get back in touch with me to schedule a followup appointment; if I haven't head from him in a week's time, I'm going to call. My father urged me to get the surgery if it's offered; he had surgery to fix problems on his back and felt he waited longer than he should of, and it didn't help as much as it could. Other family members have also put of necessary surgery to bad results.
I still drop things, and my hands still get shaky, and typing is a chore, but the neurotin I take (900mgs per day, with another 300 if necessary) controls the pain and the weakness. Doesn't fix anything, however. That's where surgery is going to come in, I'm sure. And itwillhappen before the end of the year if I have anything to say about it, because I've finally met my $5,500 insurance decutible and now they start paying 100% for things, it seems. Go me! Hurray for crushing debt loads!
That's also why I'm going to see a surgeon next week to set a date for getting my umbilical hernia fixed. It bulges and it hurts. The surgeries are done arthoscopically now, and a piece of gortex mesh is sewn over the hernia to cover the damage. But it's yet another surgery to recover from.
One of the ways I've always used to help control depression is by micro-managing my life so it doesn't get too chaotic and overwhelming. It's very easy to just give up in the face of piles of bills and unsorted laundry and etc etc. Random things really upset my brain. It's hard enough to deal with my other health problems, my work, my home life and my pets without other random events. This led me to do something very difficult and painful.
For the past year and a half, one of my old college friends has been living with Andy and myself at the house. She's been a great roommate, and i've enjoyed her company, and the pets love her ... and last week, I asked her to move out when she's done with her work assignment. I felt like a prick doing so, because she hasn't done anything wrong. Oh there were the little things that bugged me, like with any roommate (cooking liver... ewwwww), but nothing big. So she probably felt blindsided when I told her. As the old saying goes, it's not her, it's me. With my mental state and my physical state, I just want to have the house to myself (and Andy, the closest thing to a partner I'll ever have- I'd be lost without him around.) It's very hard for me to show any weakness in front of anyone, especially physical. Dropping things when there's witnesses makes me want to go and hide. The medicine I take can also make me irritable, and the mental illness can make me over react, and it's not fair to subject someone else to that. Plus, Andy and I want to move in a year, and we need to get ready. Plus, it feels like the house is closining on me, and I need more space. Plus ... plus ... plus ... many other reasons that sound silly outside of my own head.
So, i know it doesn't make up for it, but it's really me, not you, Mel. Sorry.
So, that's it. A brief (ha!) rundown of my current state of being. And now the payoff:
