I looked him in the eye and I lied

I went to In and Out tonight. I don't really have the money to be buying fast food, and there IS food at my house, but I really wanted a cheeseburger so I stole five bux out of my Europe fund, promised the dog I would be right back, and left

When I arrived, the drive through line was so long I figured I'd waste a burger's worth of gas sitting in it so I went in, passing by a kid at the door on my way.

He looked at me, teenage eyes glowing with embarrassment and asked if I had 75 cents or so.

I looked him in the eye and said, I only have enough for my dinner.

Which isn't completely untrue, a cheeseburger and a chocolate shake is about $5. but I wasn't going to get a shake.

I entered the restaurant and looked around me. I was surrounded by a high school sports team. I don't know if they are connected, but I remembered what it was like to watch your friends eat and not have any money to buy your own. To tell them you aren't hungry. To wish you had a bit of cash so you could pretend you were like them.

I know it was my own issues talking. I know I have no reason to feel guilty, but when I got my change, I went looking for that boy; the need to help overcoming my dislike of begging. He was gone.

But he was back when I left. So I gave him $1, much to his surprise, and muttered something about remembering what it is like to be hungry. I felt a little silly. And who knows, he might have made all sorts of cash out there by the In and Out door. Maybe I'm a sucker.

Or maybe he was hungry.

I caught myself

I caught myself about to be an asshole today. About to pull the " but, so and so does it this way" crap that you hear from a ten year old when there's a substitute teacher in the classroom.

Then I looked at what I was doing and I stopped. I looked at how the message I was about to send appeared to the recipient and I thought, I don't want to be that person.

So I went back, and I followed the directions instead of pouting because there was more work for me. And I found a mistake. My mistake.

I was extra glad I didn't send that message. Instead, I thanked that manager for bouncing the request back and admitted that I had a typo in there. An email typo. It would have really screwed the customer up later.

Instead of sounding like a petulant child, I got a "good teamwork"

I think I grew a little today.

Answers

tonight we are playing, How Many Electronic Devices will fit in my Bed? I am currently at three. Laptop, Cell Phone, Kindle.

I got answers yesterday, from the blood tests I had last week, and it turns out, that I have a genetic predisposition to blood clots, which, I obtained from one of my parents.

It's good to have answers.

As I considered this, though, I wondered. If 1 in 100 persons of European descent have this gene, as the internets tell me, and if blood clots are indeed killing people like crazy out of the blue on a regular basis (they go undiagnosed frequently because people either don't know they have them or they think they are a sprain or strain. Sounds logical). Why aren't we testing more frequently in high risk groups? Or at least giving the suggestion?

In July, I don't know if I mentioned, I talked to my OB about alternatives to the pill. I had been on it for almost 18 years strait  at that point (there was a couple of months after I moved to Reno wherein my prescription ran out and I didn't get another one right away) and wondered if perhaps I should try something different. She told me that it was working and that I may as well stick with it. I'm not saying it was bad advice, but I will point out that perhaps at that point she might have said, "hm. your risk for blood clots related to The Pill increases with age. Lets do a simple blood test to see if you are high risk" or, 18 years ago, when I had my first appointment, perhaps the test could have been done then.

Here's the thing. I could have died. And women have died. And it seems to me that maybe those deaths could have been prevented if the test were offered. The conversation could go, "The Pill is a great option! Some women develop clots. Would you like to be tested to see if you have an increased risk?" and then, many years later, "hey, you're getting older. and your risk is increasing. would you like to take a test to see if you should consider a different method?"

I'm just putting it out there. And i am going to keep putting it out there. Because it seems like a logical move to me.

By the time you read this

I will have gotten my results from the 7 vials of blood they pulled out of my arm last Thursday. I will know whether I am a statistic because my body got tired of being bombarded with extra estrogen every month or if there is something actually wrong with me.

That's the second time I've freaked out Phlebotomists, by the way. The first time was when they were testing me for my donations. They took 11 vials that time, and she looked at me and said, "do they really think you might have Sickle Cell Anemia?" Giggle. I told her they couldn't rule anything out. This time, they double checked the orders. apparently, they don't see requests for those tests very often.

Now I wait. I'm not a fan of waiting. But at least I will know.

Bloggerama

Watching an old episode of House featuring a woman who blogs her whole life. Everything. She feels that unless she included it, she's lying to her readers.

Sometimes, I have a lot to say. Sometimes, I don't say much at all.

There's a lot I don't say.

I'm very careful what I say about my relationship with HM. I am careful because he would not want his personal life broadcast over the internet. I've already been through the ugliness of a person (or two) who read my blog, saw what I wrote while I was angry or frustrated. There have been hurt feelings, there has been anger. And I learned my lesson from that. I'm not willing to risk him.

I have also learned to be careful what I say about my other relationships. We are human and we are going to have hiccups with each other. My next post, actually, will talk about one.

I can talk all day about my blood clots and crazy shit I do. I try to only talk about the things that affect me directly. I think I have discussed not telling other people's stories.

The internet is no longer anonymous. If I hate my job, I can't complain about it, lest my bosses  happened to google me. I'm pretty sure they have. My last job had their eye on my little corner of the internet. i don't blame them.

For the record, I like my job. It's challenging and at time difficult. More than I ever thought it would be. But I like it. I'm thankful for the challenge and the opportunity.

So, I don't post everything. And I am glad. I don't post everything to Facebook either. But i still like to write.

Creeperama

Today, I was sitting at work, innocent as can be (of course) when I got the following text:

Now, at this point, I'm feeling quite proud of myself. I don't know who this person is, but I have successfully pulled a Disney song out of my ass.

Then, I asked who it was.

Turns out, it was someone I met several years ago (??) who recalled me fondly in a bikini (???!!!!???) who wanted to flirt a bit and have sexy fun times over the phone, which is safe (apparently) because this person is 1000 miles away and just wants to have good times with me like we should have done when we met (WTF) but I had a boyfriend then.

I let them know that I don't do that. That I have a man in my life, and that I'm not that kind of girl. At one point he offered to send photos. I declined. He offered to be my secret friend.

What kind of person has a secret friend?

I explained that I don't have secret friends, that they undermine trust, and wished him well on his (I think it was a he) quest to find a nice lady. I didn't bother to point out that ^^That^^ is not the way to woo a lady.

I think it's time to go ahead and change my number. I can get a business number through Google that will forward to my cell phone, and I REALLY think it's time to leave behind any lingering creepers from my past. Anyone I might want to be in touch with (and a few I might not) are on facebook.  There's a point where maintaining a lifelong commitment to an area code just isn't worth the weirdos that might come with it. Lets hope he's one of the ones who thinks my name is really Grace.

Starting new jobs

The thing about starting new jobs is, you have to unlearn your old one, and learn the new.

In my case, with the new job, there is  A LOT to learn. I thought, at the bank, that there were a lot of new things to get. This time, I'm with a start up software company. I have to learn the software, and all the software that it interacts with. And I have to be knowledgeable and confident and help other people with their issues.

I really thought it would be a piece of cake. Boy was I wrong!

On the plus side, I learn something new every day. And there are times, when I help a customer, and they are happy, that it's all I can do to stay in my chair, and not go dancing around the room, which, scares the dog.

Days like today are a little more difficult. I had my first coaching today. And it was a great learning moment. But man, I felt like awful. I will be better. I think I did do better! Until I had another moment where I didn't come across as knowledgeable enough. And it kind of killed my evening a little. I don't really want to go to bed and then get up and have to contact that customer again. Even though I will. Because the issue is not solved.and I had already fucked up by not calling him in the allotted time. I hadn't even realized he was on my list.

Because I want to excel. And I want to help people, not waste their time.

But most of all, I want to keep my job. I want to keep it and be fantastic at it. I LIKE my job. I like the people I work with. I like our customers. Even the ones who complain because those are the ones that help me learn to be better. I like the company and what they stand for. I like being a part of a team that is known for being excellent. I don't want to let them down.

I will be better.

time just got away from me - the rest of stuff

before I fell off the face of the earth a bit there, I mentioned that I was going to see about going back to *Bucks to make some extra money.

I applied. I let a candle.

I never heard back.

The funny thing about intention is that the universe hears and answers. A couple of days after I lit that candle, a friend of mine contacted me about a job opportunity in Customer Service at the company she worked for. the pay and benefits were awesome and the opportunity meant that I would work from home. i missed working with the public.

a couple of days after that, I met a man at the airport who owns a cabinet shop in town. He was suggested that he might have an opportunity for a woman with my skill set. i missed working in construction.

I pursued both.

I now work at home. the increase in salary was enough that I was able to replace my darling Honda with something newer and sportier (still don't know if my booth set up will fit in there). I don't worry about getting stranded somewhere and having  to call someone to pick me up. not that my Honey ever let me down. but she was 14 and had 200+ hard miles on her. She was getting increasingly leaky. I nearly cried when I said goodbye.

I love my Nissan.

I learn something new every day. I feel challenged. I feel like my brain is active. I can pay my bills. I am blessed.

I didn't realize it had been so long - Clot Update first

I finished out my meds in late January. I stopped taking them a week early because I forgot to pick them up at the pharmacy and my insurance changed. There was no way I was paying 100 bucks for a week of meds.

I was supposed to have an appointment with my primary Dr for follow up in March, but the month got away from me. The hope is that it really was the pills that caused the DVT and that I can go on with my life.

It's been 5 months since i stopped taking birth control pills, and I still go to bed every night thinking that I might have forgotten something. I know what it is, but it's a bit disconcerting that I still think I should have taken my "vitamin".

I still have pain sometimes of the sort that feels like it felt when I had the clots. And that scares me. A lot. It could be overuse or a turned ankle I forgot about. The left one did get sprained in February, so its not like it isn't possible. But it is scary. Every time my Aunt mentions that I am lucky, I am thankful that  I went to the hospital that night.

A couple of days ago, I paid off the last of my bills for that little adventure. Next week I will have the blood tests I need to make sure that this isn't a forever problem. Life went a little nuts there for awhile, but it seems to be quieting down again.

thank goodness.

Life with Blood Thinners

It's about the same, actually.

I'm no longer having pain, and only the occasional swelling, mostly after running at the gym. I'm being careful with myself so there hasn't been any bruising.

My sexy stockings give me thigh high muffin tops.

HM is being good about not pushing the alcohol.

My mother keeps calling to make sure I'm okay.

The Dr bills are starting to roll in. The ER visit is going to cost me thousands. Thousands for sitting there and watching Pawn Stars. For a warm blanket and a short ride in a wheelchair. For the occasional nurse to come in and feel up my leg.

This is after insurance discounts. It does not include the cost of the blood thinner clinic, the doctor, the Urgent Care nurse, the ultrasound tech, follow ups with my PCP, or my visit with my OBGYN to discuss my reproductive stuff going forward.

Don't even get me started on the insurance topic. Despite the fact that I have it, it won't kick in until I have paid $3000 out of pocket. After this, I'll reach that. But it's December. Which means that will reset for next year in just a couple of weeks. 

I'll be looking at secondary employment. I'm going to try going back to Bucks. I had fun there and have experience. It's only temporary, right?

Where things are now

I wasn't admitted. They started me on blood thinners right away and I stopped taking the pill. I have more Dr's appointments this month than I think I have had since I was a young child.

I will have three months of treatment during which I have to be extra careful about cuts and bumps. A fall means a trip to the ER as does hitting my head. which kind of means that I can't ride roller coasters and absolutely means I can't roller skate.

I cannot be on hormone based birth control anymore, but that (hopefully) will be the only major long term change.

HM is not going to like that I will have to cut down my drinking considerably, but I'm kind of glad.

I will have to be better about moving around more often, both at work and at home. I'm actually looking forward to that.

My leg still hurts. Tylenol doesn't cut it the way ibuprofen did, but I can't have that. Or cranberries. Or copious amounts of garlic. damnit.

The swelling has gone down considerably and I am no longer limping as badly as I was. I'll likely take my third epsom salt bath tonight. the MT had suggested 8 pounds 1x per week for 4 weeks and then 1x per month thereafter. Apparently, our society as a whole is lacking in magnesium. There was nothing in my  paperwork that said I couldn't have it, so I think I'm good.

Chango has been extra protective, hardly leaving my side. I think he knows something is up. It's kind of adorable.

Mostly though, I really want to spread the word that we need to listen to our bodies and pay attention when they tell us something is wrong. If I hadn't gone to the Dr, I could have lost my leg. OR a clot or two could have traveled to my lungs. Or worse, to my brain.

In this season of thankfullness, I am thankful to my MT for the warning. And to the NP for not making light of the situation. For working to rule out the worst case scenario instead of going for the easy answer. I had made it quite clear that I had been roller skating the Saturday before my pain started and that I thought perhaps I injured myself without knowing it.

I was wrong. Thank goodness they were right. And now, let the healing begin.

I think he was trying to head off what he already knew

I went to the ER, driving across town to the less frequented hospital. They pushed me in a wheel chair and I climbed on a gurney. I did my best to smile and laugh and be thankful to the ER staff who constantly deal with the very worst of medicine. The emergencies. Some kid puked on the floor while I was there. The lady I shared my room with complained about everything.

Doctors and nurses came and went, all of them poking at my leg and agreeing that an ultrasound was the best idea.

the ultrasound tech arrived and wheeled me into the room. We joked and laughed and made small talk. I tried to hold still and stay off my phone, until he said the words.

We have clots. You'll have to be admitted.

I called my roommate and made sure that she was home and that she would be okay looking after Chango. I called the wife and asked her if she could pick up a few things from the house and bring them to me. And a cheeseburger. and animal fries. I needed comfort food in the worst way.

As i was wheeled back to my ER room, I remembered my massage therapist's insistence that I take better care of my vascular system. All I could think was that with his experienced hands, with his body worker's intuition, he knew that something wasn't right in my leg, that it was blood related, that I would need to take steps SOON. When I was in his position, I knew when my patients weren't quite right. When they were not feeling well or had something going on that wasn't visible. Since I do not touch people regularly, I no longer have that ability.

I will be seeing him again when I am cleared for massage.

Bodyworkers develop a sense, you know?

That was the week of Halloween and I found all sorts of excuses not to go to Urgent Care. I was hobbling around popping pain pills and trying not to injure myself further. The second Wednesday after my pain started, my ankle and foot swelled up.

I went to Urgent care after work on Thursday. I was expecting them to throw me in an air cast and send me on my way like they did when i sprained my ankle so many years ago.

Instead, the Nurse Practitioner strongly advised me to go to the ER and get an ultrasound. Clots, he said, are a danger, and we need to rule them out. I cried a little. Now we were getting scary. I'm a healthy 36 year old woman. I exercise A LOT. But I also sit on my ass all day at work. AND I've been on birth control pills for the better part of the last 17 years.

I considered just going home. Or at least swinging by to check on Chango. But the look on the NP's face told me to go. and to go now.

I think he knew.

A couple of weeks ago, I went in for a massage at the local chain place that has a "club" of sorts you pay monthly and get massages. Discounts if you want more than one, and if you bring in friends. Kind of brilliant actually. I would have gone to a smaller place, but this one takes my HSA.

Since I don't care about gender, and have had some wonderful massages from men, I generally choose a man. This time, what I didn't expect, was an old man. We all know I tend to be ageist. I don't usually date older men, and I was a little wary about being touched my one. I got over myself because I know that my thinking is incorrect and pure asshole. I got over myself even quicker when I discovered that he had a gentle and healing touch. He was very personable and full of wonderful knowledge. He had started massaging when he was a little boy, rubbing his mother's feet.

As he worked down my right leg, he mentioned that he had noticed some spider veins. He made a few suggestions on things I could do to improve the circulation in my legs. He was very firm, but kind about it. I needed epson salt baths. I need to work my solaris muscle. I went strait to Costco for the salts and took my first bath that night.

A couple of days later, I found myself in a great deal of pain. My right leg felt like it had been punched. or sometimes, it was on fire. Regardless, it hurt. A lot. A few days of this (tempered by over the counter pain meds, and I was threatening to go to the Dr.

Little butterflies about a "new/old" path

Deep breath.

You all know that I'm a huge fan of Liv Lane. Her stories inspire me frequently, and, if you remember, she had a linking party every week about finding happiness that I really enjoyed because it encouraged me to not only write more often, but also to find beauty in simple places.

Over the past year or so, Liv has started on a more spiritual journey and it has been amazing to read and follow along because some of the things that she is discovering are things I learned a long time ago and it's always fun to watch someone else's path to discovery. It's so amazing to see her publically admit to things that most people would call crazy because I have been there and it's scary to put yourself out there like that.

I learned some of it a long time ago. And then? I don't know. I've gotten away from my spiritual side. It's there if I reach for it, I have never lost the deep seated faith that I gained over years of study, but it's no longer forefront in my life. I stopped talking about the hoodoo that I do because I got tired of being the crazy girl even though so many people embraced my witchyness. But some of the people closest to me, rejected it and I moved to a place where I didn't know anyone and it seemed so much better to bury it. To keep it private. To try to be normal. I'll never be normal.

It has occurred to me to change that, and every so often, I start to, quietly, late at night. I don't talk about it with other people because faith is such a private thing and quite frankly, when you start talking about angels and demons and spirits of any sort, people often think you're nuts. Maybe I am. But I'm the harmless sort of nut who hears voices and doesn't always do what they tell me to. Mostly they just say my name anyway.

It came up in conversation with HM last weekend and well, it didn't turn out well even though things are fine between us. I did learn though that he is SO focused on the tangible that he refuses to believe in the things that cannot be seen or proven with science. That's ok. The world needs people like me and people like him to function. I now know that he's going to tease me for believing in magic, and I'm going to quietly think he's ignorant for denying the possibility. There is so very much possibility. It's not worth arguing about, neither of us is going to change the other person's mind. He has his journey, and I have mine.

I started exploring my ghostie side here fairly recently by starting to tell you stories of things that have gone on around my house (still periodically smelling pot, even though no one in the house smokes it, and this time, all the windows are shut), but it's been fairly quiet since the last roomie left and some of my stories are so old, I have forgotten the details.

Also, for understandable reasons if you believe that stuff, it's scary to hop back into it. I know things now that I didn't know then, you know? Yes, I am being vague. I'm being vague because the more I talk about it, the more I can feel them gathering and I'm not ready for that right now.

The point is, that one day I clicked on Liv's bookmark and she announced the next step in her journey. And without hesitation, I said yes. It's rare these days that I don't waffle back and forth between should I and shouldn't I, especially when it comes to spending money and especially when it comes to committing to something that might take a bit of time. I'm an online free college dropout. And one of those online creativity workshop flakes.

This time, I didn't think, I just said yes.

I haven't questioned that. This morning, when I clicked on the bookmark, it occurred to me that I should share this with you. And it turns out, that her post this morning was about that. Not in a pushy, get as many people to sign up as possible kind of way, Spirit told her to encourage her people to share, and I learned that right after it told me to share too. So I'm telling you about this course that I am about to start in December, that makes all the hair on my body stand up, which means it's the right thing for me.

Perhaps it is the right thing for you too. Maybe this post makes you think I'm nuts. That's okay. You're on your own journey, and it's not up to me to change your mind. I love you as you are.

Banishing the rain cloud

I have, of late, been running around with a rain cloud over my head. Not, literally, of course, but I can say that I have had a nasty, negative, stinky attitude about things over the last couple of years. It gathered and it festered until I wasn't saying much that was nice at all.

I'm not going to air my grievances. Firstly, it is not Festivus, and secondly, one does not regain their positivity by dwelling on the negative.

I tried to find the happy. I really did. Bratty would laugh at me as I would announce that I was not going to say anything negative for 10 whole minutes. Sometimes, that was a struggle. Sometimes, I failed at it. Shameful.

This. This Negative Nelly, is not who I am.

I've known for awhile that I need to reprioritize my life as I tend to have too many things going on. And I did start doing that. But it didn't really seem to be helping.

Then I took a road trip.

More about the actual trip later, but let me tell you, about 2 hours outside Reno, having sung for about an hour strait, alone, in my car, I felt the cloud dissipate.

What?

Was it the distance from Reno? Reno can be a pretty negative place. Things (and people) seem to just get stuck here.

Was it the singing? I don't sing very often lately. It's always made me feel better, but I typically listen to NPR because I like to be aware of current events. Plus, there's some interesting stuff on there.

Was it the excitement of seeing my family? Maybe but in that case, I would have noticed it before.

It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I was suddenly feeling like my old bonny self again.

Since I can't really leave the city where I live, I am trying to see it in a more positive light. And I only listen to NPR in the mornings on my way to work. I realized that the state of the world is pretty depressing. And the view of it I was getting was of war and strife. Terror and conflict. I know this isn't the whole world picture, but if you watch or listen to the news, the news reports all the drama. So less news. The afternoons and evenings are for music.

It's working. Although I still get frustrated and sometimes downright angry, I've managed to maintain my positivity. Suddenly, other people seem more positive too. Maybe it's because I'm not bringing the asshole into the equation, maybe it's because I am seeing them in a happier light.

It doesn't matter. Because things are really, really good.

What? you don't need to lose weight!

Thank you for that, Frances.

Many moons ago I talked about how I never really learned to eat properly and how it is a struggle for me to overcome my disorderly eating.

I'm happy to report that things have gotten much better. I tend towards three meals per day and a snack, which works well for me. I've been drinking plenty of water.

Now, I'm learning to eat better (except that I have rediscovered Top Ramen after 20 years of avoiding it). I'm not going to pretend to be eating all my veggies, (I WILL however eat pea crisps by the bagful, so that counts, right?)  but by watching my calorie intake, I am learning to make better choices.

I've also been working out several days per week in an effort to lose some poundage. I know where I want to be, and it's coming off slowly. My measurements are looking good though so even if the scale doesn't go down, I know I am getting to be more healthy.

I want to make good habits.

My coworker Frances insisted today that I don't look like I need to lose any weight, but she doesn't see me without my clothes on (as it should be!). I appreciated her vote of confidence. I also know that I've gotten a bit lazy since I stopped skating full time and I want to be able to recapture that fitness.

Diet. Fitness. Surely there's a third thing I'm supposed to be tending?

The Game was GREAT!

I don't remember any of it. If you follow me on twitter, I suspect you knew that. Once again, my phone needs a breathalyzer.

I dropped said phone into the bleachers. Thankfully it didn't go far. But then I worried about what else I dropped in the bleachers and spent most of the game looking for 2 pairs of gloves and a very nice scarf that I KNEW I had put in my pocket even though HM said I didn't.

He was right. He says I need to trust him about these things and I... Didn't have a reasonable response because he's right.

Either way, good times. We accidentally matched outfits so I'd say that was a win too.

Apparenlty, I did good

I showed up to work today, which was actually last week, but, whatever, with my new sporty look.

The male coworker who originally gave me a hard time for wearing red on Homecoming weekend? Practically applauded. Then he asked me to name one player on Nevada's team and I had to admit that although I LOOK like I know what's going on, I really don't. He made sure that I know that the starting quarterback's name is Cody. "I think I can remember that", I said, "I dated a Cody and also had a goat named Cody. We should be good". Then he gave me crap about football-y stuff and had a good laugh. I'm okay with that, I laugh at me too. (BTW, I'm not FOOTBALL ignorant, just college football ignorant. Clearly, that will have to change.) Plus, it's fun when that coworker gets all silly and excited about stuff because ordinarily, he is quite stoic.

And our courier says I'm rockin' the look and that I did a good job.

Which means I'm super excited for HM to see what I came up with. It makes me feel all girly and stuff. Which is good. It kind of makes me wish that I had bought something in nylon with holes in it sooner.

Not really. I hate this shit. But since it's a "jersey" I can deal.

Part 7 - Only I can milk a few days of shopping this long...

After my local gigantic sporting goods store yielded higher prices than I was willing to pay for logo gear to a school I did not attend, I went back to Target, figuring that I could wear a compression bra to make the shirt fit better. Take away my boobs, and I suddenly don't have a pin-head and I actually look slender. I always wondered why anyone would want a minimizer bra...

Since the day before, when I was there last, Target had shirts in my size. I went for the jersey style and bought a warm shirt to layer under it. My friend Countessa had already offered to loan me her parka from when she played softball for the college and I had picked up some leggings at the Old Navy Outlet for a very reasonable price to wear under my jeans.

FINALLY satisfied with my prize, I headed home.

The game better be good. In fact Nevada had better win it.

Although the process was REALLY frustrating, I am kind of glad I went through it. I'll be thinking twice before I buy something, and checking the fabric and the seams a little more closely. I work to hard to throw away my paychecks on garbage.