It's a GAD GAD World
Sunday, July 22, 2012
THE WALLS ARE CLOSING IN
There was a staff meeting on Thursday. Boss says if we don't shape up we could all be in danger of losing our jobs.
On Friday I woke up to the news of the Batman shooting. Cute Brother lives near Denver & he's a comic geek. I absolutely wouldn't put it past him to go to a Batman premiere. I spent several tense hours before I heard from him. I'm glad he's ok, but it sucks not to be able to tell him just how worried I was and how glad I was to hear from him. As Jodee Blanco wrote, the hardest part of being an outcast isn't the love you don't receive. It's the love you're not allowed to give.
Worried about what an impending job loss would do to my surgery plans, I spoke with a couple of people. They both told me to get the surgery on the books asap, because there's no way HR would fire me if they knew I needed surgery.
Life is so scary. There's so much in my life and in the world that could hurt me. I'd give anything to crawl into someone's arms and get a hug. I don't even remember the last time anyone hugged me. I'm so tired of having to do everything alone and having no one to lean on. This is why I don't want to live anymore. It's just so hard.
Sunday, July 01, 2012
THE NEW BLOGGER IS FUCKED UP
Not only did it take me 3 tries to post my last post, but it gives me these little stats for every post. It tells me how many views a particular post has had, and how many comments have been left. For EVERY post it tells me the view count is 0, *even for the ones that have comments*. Now come on, how can you comment on a post if you haven't viewed it?
So if anybody else out there writes for Blogger, don't pay attention to the stats. They're bullshit.
TRYING TO POST THIS FOR THE 3RD TIME
A lot has happened to me in the past month.
About a month ago, I started not to feel well. My entire body ached. And then I came down with some very mild chest congestion. I assumed I had a cold, so I stayed home for a day.
The next day I went in to work, but I was feeling nauseous. So I called my doc & set up an appt for a couple of days later. I figured maybe I ate something I shouldn't have. At some point during the day I ate lunch. An hour later I almost passed out in the bathroom. I ended up going home early and staying home the next day.
The next day I was still nauseous & had abdominal pain on top of it. Anytime I tried to eat anything, even a cracker or a sip of liquid, made my stomach hurt worse.
The next day I went to my doctor & she sent me straight to the ER. 7 hours and a CT scan later, they told me I had an infection in my small intestine. They also said I had masses growing on both of my ovaries and maybe I ought to see a gyno about that. I spent the next 2 days incarcerated in the hospital chained to an IV pole that pumped me full of antibiotics.
I don't want to go into the hospital stay, because I don't want to re-live it. Let's just say it was hell. From the ER doc who insisted on performing a pelvic exam even though I was bleeding like a motherfucker just because I came in complaining of abdominal pain (since when does the uterus lie underneath the rib cage, which I very plainly told the doc that this was where my pain was), to my elderly roommate who insisted on having the heat cranked on all the way (in 80 degree heat), to the way the hospital staff treated me. It was just a big fucking nightmare.
After the hospital stay I was referred to a gastro doc. He's put me on a restricted diet until I come to see him for a follow-up appt in late July. He also referred me to a gyno (he had the CT scan report and therefore knew about the ovarian masses).
Then I saw the gyno. She told me I definitely needed surgery, but that she would try to remove the masses and preserve my ovaries. Then she examined me. It was the first time I'd had a gyno exam and I hope to God it's my last, because I never EVER want to go through something that humiliating and painful ever again. There have only been 2 times in my life when I've thanked God for being ugly. The first was in junior high when the boys were into boob grabbing but told me point blank that they wouldn't even want to touch me because I was so ugly. The second time is now. Now I'm thankful that I don't have a sex life, because it means I'll never have a reason to go to a gyno and submit to that medieval torture. It was like being raped.
Ever since I got out of the hospital I've had no energy to do anything. I've already blown off 4 concerts that I'd already paid for tickets to see. That's not even counting the giglets that have popped up that I might have been interested in at one point. I go to work, I come home and collapse.
Speaking of work, it's hell. It's just sheer utter hell. And I'm sure that the stress I'm under in that office has NOTHING to do with my health going to hell in a handbasket.
I have more to say, but I can't keep my eyes open any longer. Right now I'm hoping I get hit by a bus at some point so I don't have to go on living. It's just too damn hard to live, and I don't have anything in my life worth living for.