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Mar. 10th, 2008 11:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liptonrm_backupMy inability to reply to comments in the past week is shameful. I have to apologize. I have the unfortunate habit of curtailing social interaction when I'm feeling like crap. I go into a demi-lurker mode, searching out entertainment and information but not doing my part to contribute to the community.
But, before I start whining about my poor, pitiful self, I do have a couple amusing anecdotes. First: my dad is totally a ninja mormon. Not only did he "anonymously" leave a 12-pack of diet coke on my doorstep on Saturday but he also related a funny story about a meeting he had with a local land developer. Apparently at one point the developer said something about Utah and all the mormons with their plural wives to which my dad responded, "It's funny how you meet mormons in the most unexpected places. Because I am one." That was the sum of their conversation on that topic but when he told it I couldn't stop laughing. Us mormons, we're so sneaky and incognito.
On Sunday the Big Lug and I had a limited text conversation that pretty much consisted of him asking for a car for graduation and me laughing in his face. Then he called me a jerk. I had to stop myself from replying, 'bitch' not because he would've been offended but because he wouldn't have gotten the joke. But OMG, my little brother called me a jerk! That shouldn't make me as happy as it does. =D
For those of you keeping track at home, I've totally hit a new fibromyalgia plateau, a week of fairly steady pain. The intensity has ebbed and waned but it's always been there. It's just funny, you know, how one's worldview shifts and changes. On the one hand there's the part of me that's all, "Why can't everyone see how crappy I feel and give me everything I want! It's just not fair!" and goes to sulk in a corner. On the other hand there's my daily reaffirmation that things might suck but I'm still a million times better off than other people I know and it's time to suck it up and get things done. For example: I sang a solo at the Easter concert on Sunday. [Tangentially: man, my voice has really degraded in the past decade. Comparing what I can do now to what I was able to do then is a shocker. *boggles*] Singing can be very physically strenuous, even before I got sick I would leave choir rehearsals completely exhausted. So I was up and down, in and out of rehearsal in an attempt to marshall my reserves and see myself through.
Right before the concert began the choir director came up to me. I've sung with her, off and on, for nearly 15 years and have learned quite a bit about her. She's a fantastic director, enthusiastic and able to pull the kind of talent out of amateurs that you wouldn't believe. She's also an accomplished singer who's sung with the Met. And yet, she herself is riddled with various health problems, including, as I learned on Sunday, fibromyalgia. And yet she's able to stand up there for hours, teaching us and pulling us along behind her, giving us energy and leadership. It was a humbling experience, to say the least.
But, you know, pain is still pain and I'm still learning to understand it. My stoic moments are more than evened out by my inner pettiness, the times when I have to go to the grocery store because I have no food and wonder why I can't have someone around to take care of me like so-and-so, even though I'm totally capable of taking care of myself and wouldn't know what to do with that kind of help if I had it. I kind of suck at accepting the kindness of anyone, strangers and family alike, it's one of the downsides of being a stubborn idiot.
And let's not forget my occasional debates with myself regarding painkillers. Every time I take a vicodin I have to talk myself into it, usually after at least an hour of lying in bed feeling miserable. I have to tell myself time and time again that there's nothing wrong with wanting to not be in pain, even if relief comes from a narcotic drug. Plus, there's the fact that my supply is limited and isn't likely to be augmented any time soon. My rheumatologist doesn't want to prescribe me a narcotic and I'm not looking forward to the eventual conversation when I'm going to have to plead for more drugs. I fully support the holistic viewpoint she has going, don't get me wrong, I would love to rely on massages and acupuncture and whatever other ideas she has, but all of that costs money that I just don't have. Hell, I don't really have the money to afford a rheumatologist. My disinclination to broach the subject is strengthened by the bad reactions I've had to all of the disease-specific drugs she's tried.
But blah blah blah, I'm not sure I'm making any sense. Not that that's anything new. ;-) I'm sure the vicodin thing ties back into the stubborn independence thing and I'll pretty much have to get over it. Cause, let me tell you, I didn't appreciate painkillers until I really, really needed them. I don't know why the people trying to legalize marijuana don't talk more about its benefits as a painkiller rather than the possible (and possibly epehmeral) societal benefits of legalization. I have it on very good authority that weed is not only a better painkiller than vicodin but is also less addictive and less damaging to the body as a whole.
Wow, look at me on my soapbox. *steps down* And, I think I've worn myself out. I will now spare you anymore of my emo mumb jumbo.
One last anecdote, the Da called me tonight for legal advice regarding my great uncle's estate. That kind of trust is both really cool and completely terrifying. But mostly cool. =D
But, before I start whining about my poor, pitiful self, I do have a couple amusing anecdotes. First: my dad is totally a ninja mormon. Not only did he "anonymously" leave a 12-pack of diet coke on my doorstep on Saturday but he also related a funny story about a meeting he had with a local land developer. Apparently at one point the developer said something about Utah and all the mormons with their plural wives to which my dad responded, "It's funny how you meet mormons in the most unexpected places. Because I am one." That was the sum of their conversation on that topic but when he told it I couldn't stop laughing. Us mormons, we're so sneaky and incognito.
On Sunday the Big Lug and I had a limited text conversation that pretty much consisted of him asking for a car for graduation and me laughing in his face. Then he called me a jerk. I had to stop myself from replying, 'bitch' not because he would've been offended but because he wouldn't have gotten the joke. But OMG, my little brother called me a jerk! That shouldn't make me as happy as it does. =D
For those of you keeping track at home, I've totally hit a new fibromyalgia plateau, a week of fairly steady pain. The intensity has ebbed and waned but it's always been there. It's just funny, you know, how one's worldview shifts and changes. On the one hand there's the part of me that's all, "Why can't everyone see how crappy I feel and give me everything I want! It's just not fair!" and goes to sulk in a corner. On the other hand there's my daily reaffirmation that things might suck but I'm still a million times better off than other people I know and it's time to suck it up and get things done. For example: I sang a solo at the Easter concert on Sunday. [Tangentially: man, my voice has really degraded in the past decade. Comparing what I can do now to what I was able to do then is a shocker. *boggles*] Singing can be very physically strenuous, even before I got sick I would leave choir rehearsals completely exhausted. So I was up and down, in and out of rehearsal in an attempt to marshall my reserves and see myself through.
Right before the concert began the choir director came up to me. I've sung with her, off and on, for nearly 15 years and have learned quite a bit about her. She's a fantastic director, enthusiastic and able to pull the kind of talent out of amateurs that you wouldn't believe. She's also an accomplished singer who's sung with the Met. And yet, she herself is riddled with various health problems, including, as I learned on Sunday, fibromyalgia. And yet she's able to stand up there for hours, teaching us and pulling us along behind her, giving us energy and leadership. It was a humbling experience, to say the least.
But, you know, pain is still pain and I'm still learning to understand it. My stoic moments are more than evened out by my inner pettiness, the times when I have to go to the grocery store because I have no food and wonder why I can't have someone around to take care of me like so-and-so, even though I'm totally capable of taking care of myself and wouldn't know what to do with that kind of help if I had it. I kind of suck at accepting the kindness of anyone, strangers and family alike, it's one of the downsides of being a stubborn idiot.
And let's not forget my occasional debates with myself regarding painkillers. Every time I take a vicodin I have to talk myself into it, usually after at least an hour of lying in bed feeling miserable. I have to tell myself time and time again that there's nothing wrong with wanting to not be in pain, even if relief comes from a narcotic drug. Plus, there's the fact that my supply is limited and isn't likely to be augmented any time soon. My rheumatologist doesn't want to prescribe me a narcotic and I'm not looking forward to the eventual conversation when I'm going to have to plead for more drugs. I fully support the holistic viewpoint she has going, don't get me wrong, I would love to rely on massages and acupuncture and whatever other ideas she has, but all of that costs money that I just don't have. Hell, I don't really have the money to afford a rheumatologist. My disinclination to broach the subject is strengthened by the bad reactions I've had to all of the disease-specific drugs she's tried.
But blah blah blah, I'm not sure I'm making any sense. Not that that's anything new. ;-) I'm sure the vicodin thing ties back into the stubborn independence thing and I'll pretty much have to get over it. Cause, let me tell you, I didn't appreciate painkillers until I really, really needed them. I don't know why the people trying to legalize marijuana don't talk more about its benefits as a painkiller rather than the possible (and possibly epehmeral) societal benefits of legalization. I have it on very good authority that weed is not only a better painkiller than vicodin but is also less addictive and less damaging to the body as a whole.
Wow, look at me on my soapbox. *steps down* And, I think I've worn myself out. I will now spare you anymore of my emo mumb jumbo.
One last anecdote, the Da called me tonight for legal advice regarding my great uncle's estate. That kind of trust is both really cool and completely terrifying. But mostly cool. =D
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no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 11:39 am (UTC)This whole Vicodin thing with doctors makes me angry. I have more than one friend who has to beg and plead for Vicodin over and over. It's the only thing that keeps them functioning and sane, and relatively painfree, and if I'm ever in that same condition, I would do the same. No one should have to live in pain if there's a way to alleviate it.
*gentle hugses*
no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 12:05 pm (UTC)Sorry for the crap timing of the new commute and the challenges it posts to our phone calling. I will give you a nice, long call tomorrow night. Perhaps we should do a synchronized viewing of an old comfort episode?
Love you!
no subject
Date: 2008-03-11 06:36 pm (UTC)Well, I do that too, so it seems perfectly normal to me. ;)
Sorry you're feeling like crap. I would totally legalize marijuana if I was in charge...
*gentle hugs*