sharpchick_2011: (Troll)
Having jettisoned (or been jettisoned by - I think it depends on your sense of timing) the neurologist with the god complex, and failing over the course of five weeks to be able to find one who can see me in any reasonable amount of time, I backed up and reconsidered.

I'll be seeing a general practice physician on June 14 who has a reputation for appropriate referrals for the management of pain, as well as listening to his patients and engaging in actual dialog.

Catch me please, as I swoon...One of the things I need him to do is continue my prescription for physical therapy.

In the meantime, I still have one refill of neurontin at way too low a dose to treat neuropathic pain, but I take it anyway to maintain my blood level, because I intend to ask the new doc to increase the dose and we'll see if I'm one of the 30% of people who get any relief from it.

I continue to research alternative therapies for pain and edema, trying some which, even if they don't work, still won't hurt me.

You wouldn't believe what some folks do... )

The journey is good.

It's even better if you stop long enough to take it one step at a time.

sharpchick_2011: (Default)
I went to a monastery in Thailand. We took our baths in the stream, we begged for our food in the streets, I shaved my head and walked barefoot. My head monk asked how it was walking. I said it hurt without shoes. And he said, "It hurts on the foot that's down, but the one that's up feels really good - so focus on that one."

Deepak Chopra, in an interview with Oprah
sharpchick_2011: (Caddo solar cross)
On the way to work this morning, I saw movement in the little window where I see my odometer.

A message was flashing.

Service traction control

Just for good measure, the appropriate icon lit up, a little further left on another panel.

It was followed by another - different - flashing message.

Service brake assist

It has a glowing icon, too - located waaay off to the right of all the other action.

Because I ain't already bleeding money... )

The journey is good.

Sometimes the pain - whatever its source - is some kind of fierce.

But the journey is good.

sharpchick_2011: (Caddo solar cross)
It's been six and a half weeks since I wrecked my car, and a little over one month since my surgery to fix my badly broken left wrist.

I've officially joined a new club. I'm now a member of a huge group of people no one wants to be affiliated with.

People who have chronic pain disorders for which there is no cure, only the hope of remission.

I have Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy (RSD), also known as Complex Regional Pain Syndrome.

Those are two very fancy ways of saying that, for some unknown reason, my sympathetic nervous system has sent the nerves at the site of my fracture into constant, screaming overdrive.
For all the specialists I've had to see, it is my physical therapist who is my hero.

Any of you who want to wander down this path with me, look behind the cut. )

The journey is good.

There are no coincidences, but there are some tough lessons along the way.

sharpchick_2011: (Caddo solar cross)
I haven't been around here much lately - or anywhere else for that matter.

Late at night two weeks ago today, I made what could very easily have been a fatal mistake.

I emerged from it with a shattered left wrist, a whole bunch of bruises and scrapes, and a totaled car.
You know what "they" always say about what NOT to do when you feel the tires on one side of your car start to leave the pavement?

You're not supposed to jerk the steering wheel in the opposite direction.

I did, and my small Kia SUV and I rolled over. The 11 year old airbags deployed.

I landed upside down. It took a few seconds for me to figure out that I was not going to be able to unlatch my seatbelt with all my weight dangling from it. I had to find a foothold to raise my body up enough to unlatch the seatbelt and fall to the roof.

I reached up to try and get the keys - that's when I noticed my left wrist was at an odd angle, and hurt like a muthafucker. Couldn't get the keys out of the ignition, but found my purse. Crawled out the busted passenger side window.

And up the ditch to the road.

A car came up behind me shortly. The driver checked for oncoming traffic and went on his merry way.

I started searching my purse for my cellphone, because obviously, I was going to have to call 911 myself.

Couldn't find my phone, but did find my mini-flashlight, so I went back down in the ditch and searched with the light for my phone.

That's where the driver and two passengers of the next car found me.

They were absolute angels.

I regret that I didn't get their names.
So many silver many things for which I will be forever grateful.

My mistake only affected me and my stuff. I was alone, and didn't damage the person or property of anyone else.

My seatbelt and airbags did what they were designed to do. My injuries were amazingly minor when you consider the whole thing.

Although the Kia had been paid off for years, I still carried full coverage insurance on it, because - as I've told many incredulous folks when they asked - it's the only car I had, and if anything happened to it, I'd need to get another one.

It wasn't my dominant hand that was injured. (Surgery was last Friday - post-op check-up, removal of stitches, another x-ray, and orders for physical therapy scheduled for next Monday.)

I have - as many, many others do not - health insurance.
Now, for the lessons and musings...

I am living proof that this time, "they" were right.

You can shave your right armpit with your right hand.

Most jars and bottles can be opened with your right hand if you grip them with your knees.

If your bras have more than two hooks, just go ahead and buy some sports bras.

The cats' mournful wails will increase exponentially with the degree of difficulty you have getting the gawddamn ringtab top off the canned catfood.

Just go ahead and buy some Senokot-S when you are getting your scripts filled for whatever codone the doc gives you for pain - you're gonna need both...
The journey is good.

Sometimes you get a little wake-up call to understand just *how* good it is...

sharpchick_2011: (Troll)
Received in my inbox this morning, with an assurance it had been checked out on Snopes.

Recently Marines in Iraq wrote to Starbucks because they
wanted to let them know how much they liked their coffees
and to request that they send some of it to the troops

Starbucks replied, telling the Marines thank you for
their support of their business, but that Starbucks does
not support the war, nor anyone in it, and that they would not
send the troops their brand of coffee.

So as not to offend Starbucks, maybe we should not
support them by buying any of their products! I feel we
should get this out in the open. I know this war might
not be very popular with some folks, but that
doesn't mean we don't support the boys on the ground
fighting street-to-street and house-to-house.

If you feel the same as I do then pass this along, or you
can discard it and no one will ever know.

Thanks very much for your support. I know you'll all be
there again when I deploy once more.

Semper Fidelis.
Sgt. Howard C. Wright
1st Force Recon Co

1st Plt PLT

Also, don't forget that when the Twin Trade Towers were
hit the fire fighters and rescue workers went to
Starbucks because it was close by for water for the
survivors and workers and Starbucks charged them!!


Now, time for the Hertz moment.

Not exactly.

Actually, not even close.

If anyone in the massive list of addresses splayed down the page of my email had taken about 90 seconds to check, they'd have known that.

It wasn't even "recently," unless you count the rumor's original origins in 2004, as researched by Snopes.

In 2007, the rumor changed corporations, and it was Oscar Meyer.

There *was* an email by a Sgt. Howard Wright, and after he got a letter from Starbucks, he sent another email, backing up from his original statement and saying he "didn't do my research properly like [I] should have."
So, what did I do?

I replied all.

And preached the truth.

And probably made several enemies in the process, people I don't even know.

And frankly, don't care to know.

Winston Churchill was right, ya know...

Men occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of them pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing ever happened.
The journey is good.

But I guess I'll have to move around the lemmings.

sharpchick_2011: (Troll)
Needed to have a bit of maintenance work done on the cottage.

For those who do not/have not lived in mobile homes, maintenance is a tad different than in stick built houses.

I've never had - nor will I have - local wildlife nesting in the attic.

Ditto water in the basement.

The cottage is jacked up three blocks high in the front and four in the back, tied down to corkscrewed stainless steel spikes and skirted.

It's fairly easy to take care of plumbing or sewer problems - even for me. (Remind me to tell you sometime about the next door neighbor who, watching me connect my plumbing and sewer lines when I moved in, decided I must be a lesbian...I went by the drawing that came with the house, and saved myself a small fortune on a plumber.)
After a while - 17 years in my case - the effects of gravity set in on these homes.

Just like it does on people.

For me, it showed up in misalignment of the front door. Just a bit.

Just enough to make me crazy.

So I called the handy-dandy mobile home supply company, described my problem and asked who they had on the list who could fix it.

They gave me a name and a number. I called him.

He was very prompt, very polite and professional - a guy about my age. He *did* ask to borrow my hammer, since his was not in his truck.

It took him about 45 minutes to unscrew the front door frame, jack it up just ever so slightly, re-screw it, and repair the strikeplate.

He looked, as various fix-it guys have over the years, at my doorlocks.

Suggested I might want deadbolts on both doors, and everything keyed the same.

I said okay. We agreed he'd come back today, while I was on vacation.
He was very prompt this morning. Got here while the coffee was still hot, so I offered a cup.

Very efficient. About an hour later, he was done. After he swept up after himself, I paid him - a very reasonable rate.

Offered him another cup of coffee and we sat down at the kitchen table. He looked around the cottage, and pronounced it very homey. He read all my refrigerator magnets, and grinned about my politics.

He began to talk - told me stuff about himself I couldn't imagine telling a stranger. His home life as a child was quite similar to mine, although I took different paths to get away from it than he did.

At the end, I understood why he's a handy-man.

And I saw again just how similar we humans are.

So much more than we are different.
The journey is good.

The side roads have some very interesting characters on them.

sharpchick_2011: (Candle)
Disability rights advocates in Arkansas - particularly those with specific interest in people with intellectual disabilities - are really bummed out today.

After months of waiting on both sides, the Honorable Leon Holmes, United States District Court Judge, ruled against the United States of America in its 2009 lawsuit alleging that the State of Arkansas unlawfully discriminates against people with intellectual disabilities housed at the State owned and operated Conway Human Development Center.

As we commiserated over the 85 page opinion that led to the Order of Dismissal, a couple of them - long time advocates of many years' duration - sounded as though they even were entertaining thoughts of giving up.

They are tired. So very weary.

I am tired. So many years of standing up for the right thing.

And only the Great Spirit knows how very tired people with intellectual disabilities are...tired of waiting to live their own lives.
We cannot quit.

I understand the sentiment, but we. simply. CANNOT. quit.

We need to rest. Back up, take a breath - maybe a mini-holiday.

And then, we must begin to reconnoiter.

I'm sure many advocates all over the state swore under their collective breath as they read that opinion.

But it is very valuable. We have lessons to learn from it.

In it lies the beginning of the framework of the new strategy.
The journey is good, but sometimes it seems never-ending, and detours us into a place we don't want to be.

We have a choice.

Let's make sure they do, too.



sharpchick_2011: (Default)

May 2014



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