The 101 of pain/strokes, hug a panda, the allure of boobies and Ringo!

Good job!

I thought that if your experience is like my experience then going back to work after a break kind of sucks and no one is very appreciative of what you do. Indeed in most jobs the person with dedication seems to get the least appreciation. But you roll up your sleeves anyway. So though you may not hear it at work because I am not your co-worker or boss, you can hear it from me: Good job (and if your job is staying alive and/or sane and you are reading this, good job on staying alive, but about staying sane….mmmmm, try harder! Wait, that was a note to myself, I really do need to try harder).

Over the break we made up some phrases. One is ‘follow the body’. That means with a rapidly changing condition it is best to listen to what the body is trying to say and work around the body. It beats recovering from having decided days in advance what I will do and then trying to force my body to do it. Another one I am pretty sure I stole is ‘The heart wants what the heart wants’ (that sounds like I stole it, right?). That means, sometimes at the end of the day, unless it is illegal, try to be at peace with your desires, whether sexual or otherwise (oh yeah, that's another post, DESIRE!).

On that note I thought I should put up some yarn porn for the knitters. Yarn is actually so attractive that many species (think kittens and yarn) adore it. In fact, right now, I want to thank whoever got/bought/made me the knitted finger-less hand and wrist warmers. They are striped orange and black with skulls and I am wearing them now like most days to help with the Raynaud’s (all three times I worked on this post!).

See, knitted things are very comfy against the cold, and it is always cold somewhere, that is what knitters tell themselves while stocking up on skeins. Besides, it can literally be done anywhere. The heart wants what it wants, go with it. For example here we have a woman knitting while hanging out in a forge, not the most common knitting venue. Maybe she is having beefcake for breakfast (nudge, nudge, wink) while knitting. She even has a bobbin at her elbow while knitting one of the Men of Steel a scarf, because that is what every blacksmith needs (particularly those with big mustaches!), ya, you betcha, lots of scarves at the forge (???).

As for me, I had the promise and desire to play with my Lincoln logs. They mini-logs with squared off ends much like those logs which Abraham Lincoln made a cabin. I played with them as a child in Surrey, BC. Toys were: paper, my pink rabbit, Light-Bright and Lincoln Logs for toys. Anyway, I actually had bought these Lincoln logs as a gift for someone else. But I thought they were a small set, a bit of nostalgia for them. Except what comes is this giant several feet maple cabinet with brass settings.It turns out I had got some super-duper executive Lincoln Log set which cost more to post than I paid for them, so I kept them. I had great plans with Cheryl, we were going to create the ranch of Bonanza. Actually that was her plan, and I have NO IDEA how she knows the exact outlay of the Ponderosa Ranch (too much summer TV I think!). I didn’t mention that my plan was to build the ranch and then…..BURN IT!!! Woo hoo! I mean, this way I could save Lorne Greene, the great singer of RINGO.

Besides I could also save Micheal Landon, the ‘youngun’ at the Ponderosa Ranch. Okay, now that I look at that in the cold eve of 2:00 a.m. that sounds pretty reasonable but I am sure in the morning there will be some reason I can’t follow my heart and set part of my apartment on fire. Oh wait, it is illegal. See, good thing I had that clause in there, huh?

Instead of more of that brain medication, I think what I really need is some quality time with a hug.

It is cruel and ironic that the one thing I almost never have is human contact, because most contact to me is painful. And I mean physically painful due to the heat of the person or just some sort of reaction where it physically hurts to be touched. A life without touch, without a hug, is kind of sad. I think this is one of the reasons I want a cat badly, because any touch, that physical reminder of love is something I think we all want. And once you have passed that point: the point of accepting in the bones that from now on it is just you, the pain, and the will of how long you can take it, THEN you really want touch. Not that sense of being among people but apart from them. That is loneliness, but also an aspect of so many things, whether it is dying, isolation, fear or pain. Dying is sort of a long to explain place so I’ll talk about that later, but pain is common enough to be universal. Whether it is fever, migraine, broken bone, ripped muscles, pain is pain. Pain makes it hard to think, as there are so many messages coming in.

For me it is as if there is haze plus a cloud of bees stinging me, so feeling that and trying to collect and focus my thoughts to talk is hard, and when someone wants me to repeat things, even harder not to snap, to focus instead.

I am trapped in a burning house of pain and I can't escape much less get out of my point of view to consider, “I think they are just asking for clarification” or “They look like they have had a bad day, I better not make it worse.” Or even sometimes to know where I am, or whether I am on the floor or not. Pain is the baby which will not stop screaming and whether you want to or not it demands your attention. So even trying to speak calmly comes out….intense. And it makes the funny go away, it makes that buffer of social graces go away. Because it just IS.

Yesterday my heart was severely out of order, waking me with erratic heart beats. I had to take 50% more heart medication during the day, which later depressed my heart and respiration until I passed out and stopped breathing (BAD!). Linda got that started only to have the heart go wonky again. It was a stupid cycle which ended up with me stuck in my wheelchair until Linda could come get me.

My day tends to go like this: I have a fuel meter much like a car, only mine is the one which is broken and tells you that you have half a tank and then makes you run out of gas/petrol downwind from a pig farm. So as every day goes on I have less and less to work with and more and more problems: blood pressure, heart rate, respiration – those are the big three: stroke, infarction, suffocation (the bad outcomes). So last night I worked late and there was a delay in the amount of heart medication. That caused erratics at about 25%-33% of heart beats. At 75 beats a minute that is at least 20 or more erratic beats per minute.

That feels like having someone reach into your chest and sqeeze your heart and hold it, for one second, for two seconds, then release it for a beat or two and grab it again (and that is only 10 heart beats). That feeling tends to focus the attention: as the 'hand into the chest squeezing the heart' is bad. Then my heart would have a run of 15-20 erratics so fast that no blood is pumped by the heart, that is how fast it goes, and the chambers are out of synch. That is eye popping stuff. So right now I don’t know whether I am up or down. If I am lucky I can tilt and recline my chair so my airway is clear. Often not. I pass in and out of consciousness. I can’t breath, which means I can’t scream, can’t speak. Problem is that my vascular system gets wonky too and opens or closes a bit at random. It if opens too much, I pass out as there isn’t enough blood going to my brain. But if it closes, then there is so much pressure after a series of erratics, that big huge push of blood, the life preserving measure the heart makes shoots blood up a tiny pipe under enormous pressure. By this time, my left hand and sometimes whole arm is the color of a black grape and shrivelled (as no oxgyen, and sometimes no blood), sometimes just dark purple, and meanwhile that high pressure hose of blood blasts into my brain, into every little capillary. And if just one has a small burst, I get a mini stroke.

A mini stroke can affect memory, or speech, and half or more of my body including making my face droop. That is called a TIA, which means a stroke that where operations (like having a smile that goes up equally) are back working in a few hours to a day. There are actually lots of TIA’s that last longer than a day, but they don’t have a name for those yet (so they call them TIA’s because that sounds better than stroke, doesn’t it?)

“I had a stroke yesterday.” Woah, that is Serious!

BUT “I had a TIA yesterday.”

Response: “Did you get the cinnamon with that, I hear it is pretty good?”

So I was trying, again, after having lost 45 minutes to depressed respiration, to do a little bit of the blog post I wanted to do. To chop it into bits. To be witty and fun. I mean, I am in pain and can’t be touched and so realize I am a bit miserable. Who wants to be known as 'miserable girl'? So I desperately want to be fun, to be funny. But I am having problems and while working I have some erratics and lose time and then I decide, that’s it, I’m finishing this as soon as I get up tomorrow (another story), so I shut everything down with my mouse hand, closing down the computer, the air conditioner. This is when I notice that my left side of my body hasn’t moved. Ah crap! Plus I am only using one eye. I have to transfer out of this chair to get to the bathroom and bed. I try to do that with my good arm but while I can move it a couple feet, I can’t lift the 8-10 lbs of weight to lift up the right side of the wheelchair so I can transfer to my tiny manual wheelchair (waiting for power chair people to change the weight on this). I transfer to go 30 feet to the bathroom. Previously, I have thrown myself, or fallen out the Power chair and tried to drag myself with one arm, but that doesn’t work well. Sigh.

Okay, I need to recline this, particularly if this is going to be a while and I might pee myself, also I need to move my head as near to the baby monitor as possible. That is just a few buttons held down. I start calling: “Linda? Hello, Linda. Linda!” I could try to drive the power chair but since I have bits I can’t feel (feet, an arm, etc), and about one hand I can feel but I can’t always see or stay conscious, or get distracted by pain then that is NOT a good idea (we call that the 'little chunk out of the wall lesson'). So I lie there, calling. I am not oxidizing well and my voice is weak and husky, “Linda, I’m stuck, Linda.” I could push my emergency button for an ambulance, but why? I just need to get to bed. Then the heart hit again and I can hear myself repeating something, “Linda, help, Linda, please, Linda, oh, god” but that is way UP there, where consciousness is slipping away under the blanket of pain.

How long? I don't know but after a time, Linda comes. Sometimes, it is a LONG time, but she comes. And helps me to bed. That is what happens. Linda gives me quiet time in the late evening but I am guessing that is coming to an end, as this risk and incidents increase.

Having something to hold when I am waiting is good. It helps. I think for all forms of pain and lonliness it probably helps. What a better world it would be if we hugged more things (you may love the cactus, but I don’t recommend hugging the cactus). Hug a panda, hug several baby pandas.
The heart wants what the heart wants. There is a solitude which is ‘me’ time, and there is a solitude of longing. Sometimes not even knowing what we are missing until it is filled. Sometimes something that simply cannot be filled but that yearning can be distracted. How about a kitten, don’t you want to hug a kitten, or pet one? I think the kitten in her hair might be a bit much and difficult for combing out later. Still contender for cutest picture EVER.

Now, this is really important for the Seme’s out there who seem, at least in the 1,000 Yaoi stories to simply ignore or grab what they want. Picking up a kitten, a cat to take home and pet is okay. Picking up and taking home a cute guy IN a cat cosplay outfit is NOT okay, well not unless the uke wants that too (oh, and sometimes they really DO!). However attracting someone who is candy to the eye and warmth in the heart with pets (like puppies) is an age old technique.
Okay, a serious warning here for both genders. We all like to look at the boobies, we like to feel the boobie. But whether you are female or male, if that isn't YOUR boobie, just because it is VERY attractive, just because you WANT it, doesn’t mean you can just go get it (and try to remember there is a FACE attached to those boobies!). That is where the ‘no illegal’ comes in. Consensual abduction and groping only please.

On that note, Cheryl, Linda and I went out a few days ago at dusk to see if we could get any squirrel loving. I had one pregnant mother who went straight for the lap and the biggest peanuts (that sounds dirty, but it isn’t). While Cheryl in her cool skull headband attracted about 5 squirrels, all of whom were a bit twitchy. This one is the ‘brave’ one, who seems to be made of rubber (it must be young to be that flexible, you know, like how you used to use your feet as a pillow while reading or read while standing on your head – wait, I actually did that!). We didn’t see many squirrels before the sun went down but soon I will arrive early and they will flood around me. Which brings up the, ‘if you are scared, don’t go into the petting area’ rule. Like not lying to boyfriend/girlfriend you love cats when they scare you, or coming with me if you are terrified of squirrels running up your leg. Because otherwise you will be the person in the back of this picture (I am the one in serenity in the front of the picture).

I think that is it right, a good job, and an explanation of getting stuck at night and then the important stuff, like hug a kitten, or better yet, hug a CAT GIRL, yes, and get all the rabbits and cats to help you do cooking. Now that is a fantasy, but still, if I could get Linda to put on the cat ears I could hug some boobies AND a cat girl at the same time. I only wish there were cats who made food, though they sure know how to turn up when it is around, don’t they?

Well, I did it. I hope you hug in. Next I will try to write the the posts on ‘Normal’, 'Desire part I and II' and ‘The Plan’ – I know part of The Plan involves me cleaning this place up. But that isn’t really fair since I am a person who would have four things out and STILL be yelled out for making a mess. True, you didn’t want to see inside of my desk at school (or locker, yikes!), and I was the person who was doing my homework while the teacher was taking attendance. I can’t help it that pens mysteriously disappear around me, along with keys, important papers that must not be lost, things put ‘away somewhere where I won’t lose it’, combs, prescriptions, DVD’s, books, the top that would go perfectly with this outfit (that is ALWAYS lost, regardless of outfit). It is just my curse.

Have fun, hug, don’t be illegal. Geez, I sound like a parent.

Lynne's Soap Wonderland, Bunnies and Postcards

Now that I have had sufficient Virgin Smoothies (add a bit of rum and you have a Virgin Daiquiri!) my blood level allow me to be awake and aware again. Cheryl is off again on a Government mission (I can’t say except she is taking her blowdarts and jungle cameo) so will not be over next weekend. I had been working on a plan called, “Don’t let anyone down” which has been created by Guilt Inc. Seriously, I wanted to get a lot of nice postcards done because I kept passing out last week and got very few done (hence I am BAD, if I am unconscious and do not keep to my own inner voice quota, I am 'bad Beth!'). Also, I prepared to send the rest of the ‘Winter Gifts’ which I guess those who keep Xmas call ‘Xmas Gifts.’

Some things I do need to wait on arriving but I sent out about 23+ packages this week and a bunch last week. In two weeks, the lines to the post office and the slow down of service means everything is difficult. And I have enough self esteem issues that I believe if I send things to arrive Dec 20th-24th I will be lost amoungst family and friends and just be, “Shall we open this envelope from that crazy internet chick?”

Now while I can’t get the big presents, I do try to find something both unique and that will make people happy or improve their life. So I want my gift to have space to breath, so I send it early. Of course that Aunt who gets you Thomas the Train Ear Muffs even though you are 35 ALSO thinks she is getting just the right gift for you. See how insecurity and Guilt Inc. are having fun with me!

Thanks to Linda, we were able to go see Lynne who is a locally renown carver and soap maker. She spends way too many hours a day carving and in the summer I showed you her stall at the local market. Well, for two days she has a ‘special’ event where she sells what she has been carving over the time since the summer market. She told us to come early in order to have full accessibility as she gets crowded.

First we weave through a tended garden with lovely flowers, a pathway and painted out- buildings before arriving at the kind of door which appears in Fairy Tales, and it opens to a sort of winter celebration land, smelling divine from all the hand made, organic and good for your skin soap (sadly she doesn’t sell online).
I wanted to get there early so I could see all the new things she had carved. There were additional clams and shells but also full cooking onions as well as this garlic. As I was loading the picture, one worker said, “Oh, I love that purple garlic, it is so delicious, where did you get it?” This is why when I send the soap out I have to put a note saying: “This is soap, do NOT eat” as even I forget. The baskets to shop with were Walton’s General Store style depression fruit baskets/boxes and here you can see the fruit she normally has (plus pears). Even I go, “Well, once it is pitted, that peach will be good to use.” Before I remember that the pit IS carved and it is all still soap.

Another new item were these Amaryllis bulbs which is traditional to grow for some people’s Xmas. Since I am new to all this 'tradition' and more of a ‘lets have a party to celebrate not being dead in winter’, I tend to drift from Wicca to Christian and toward anyone else who will give me cake. I have to admit the Christian Xmas is wee like being on acid when there is the ‘conception day’ celebrated three weeks before the ‘birthday’ and while I am thinking ‘So Jesus was…an insect to be hatched so quick?” Then I remember the great American Xmas Tradition: Killing People on Xmas Eve after dinner and drink! (I am SO locking my doors)

Yeah, remember Washington crossing the River standing in his boat at the dead of night on the way to glorious victory? Well he was going over to the Prussians/Hanoverians who owed the British from the help in that seven years war I talked about last week. George Washington, a British Officer during that war KNEW that the most holy day of the year (and the one they get most drunk on) for the Prussians was Xmas (Indeed, the tree, the punch, the whole traditions we have arrived with Queen Victoria when the Hanovarian arm filled in the British Royal line, spreading Xmas to the British Empire and then now, to the world). So Washington snuck over to where, on the holiest day of the year, where the troops celebrated and were too drunk/asleep to resist, he slaughtered them, thus creating the first colonial victory! Oddly, most classes and pictures focus on Washington leading the troops across the icy river (because it was December) and so far, have found no pictures of troops bayoneted or throats slit while holding a bit of fruitcake mumbling, “It looks like normal food…but you can never finish it…so thick and heavy!”

Um, aside over, back to gift buying, here is a table of all the bars of cocoa butter based soaps from Blackberry to other lush scents. So smooth. What made me go, “I wanna, I wanna!!!” was the finding of these carved vellum covered, gold leaf books. Amazing no? She said that years ago, with better eyesight she had put titles on and everything. I wanted to hand one to her and give the Bambi eyes and go, “Put Titles on?” But she was already giving me special treatment. Here I am looking youthful and happy. “That’s because I’m not just a spokesperson for this soap but I use it regularly!”

She also had made gingerbread men, which looked so edible, and smelled of ginger. I didn’t get one as I thought the gingerbread man had endured enough than to be cleaning Area 51 and the other delicates.

After the soap we headed up to the university with our bag of a bit of left over lettuce to find the ‘wabbits, I mean rabbits. Over a decade ago, a few pet rabbits ran away, across the road and the rest is history. Now people come and dump rabbits here as they think with so many, they won’t be noticed. Much like the squirrels, once they heard the bag, the rabbits found US.
And now, for my NEXT act, I will attempt to feed TWO rabbits from the hand at once! Ta-da! Not as impressive as tigers, right? Oh well. Even Linda was getting heavy attention as the holder of the bag from rabbits and fed them.
I noticed that the rabbits or at least this one must be a Literature Major as he had the whole Oliver Twist, “Mum, may I please have a bit more gruel’ look down pretty perfectly.
This next picture of me feeding the rabbits is a bit of a test. Okay, done!

If it took you up to three seconds to notice there was a BUNNY in the picture, then you are male/lesbian/bisexual/interested in my breasts.

If it took you more than FIVE seconds to notice then you are sexually frustrated and WAY too interested in my breasts.

If you never noticed a Bunny in the picture, then you are the male who they make those reports about, the ones which they say that 16-21 year old males think of sex every six seconds (How are they able to complete sentences? And why are they allowed to operate motor vehicles?).

It was cold, I had frostbite and we were out of lettuce. We headed home. Over the next 36 hours I had a FEW incidents which required extra sleep or suddenly being in bed on the concentrator mask for oxygen as my weaker state meant that my heart or lungs were not working properly or as happened one time, my blood pressure went from 120/70 to 178/164 in a few minutes. Also I had a lot of fevers. BUT (lets ignore the spiral of downward health and focus on what is IMPORTANT, so says Guilt Inc.) I got some postcard done, about 59 in all, which brings me over 100 so far this month and over 3,100 in total. I really like the stamp of the girl reading. I also, of all the postcards we brought back from Hawaii have a couple favourites: one is the set of the ones of Turtles which are sold out in Hawaii and online so this is the only pack (if you have a love for endangered turtles please let me know!).

The second is this picture of the spinner dolphins in Hawaii doing a group dive. It is so beautiful. The old picture of the moon taken through an early telescope is pretty cool too. We stickered, we matched, stamped and I wrote and wrote and wrote and I really hope you can understand my handwriting. Here are some of the postcards which we sent out, from Magic Eye to Polar Bears, there are gifts of postcards from the postcard project here from at least six different people plus postcards I bought from Hawaii, Japan and online from three places. But for the quality postcards you send me as a gift, I honestly do send them out again just as fast as I can around the world. This posting went to four continents and one subcontinent (or two - how many subcontinents are there?)

Next time we are doing a ‘kids posting’ (shh don’t tell them) which is where we send a postcard to every teen or child on our list. So if you have a child or teen or 2 or 3 year old who likes animals that I don’t have on the list, or have forgotten please let me know. Last time it was Polar Bears, and this time there is another cute primary animal which I managed to get the postcard book of, which is good considering it goes for between $20 and $60 (I got in on the swing and paid a rational price). So I am looking forward to that, it is always fun in terms of stamping and of stickering. We know there isn't going to be post back but we also remember how good it was to get post/mail when a kid.

I hope you had a good weekend, those were my small pleasures. Please comment on any soap that delighted you, or children who need postcards or anything that comes to mind, except for very long and detailed comments of my breast, even (especially) if they start with ‘Like the beautiful smooth, cool and white round alabaster breasts one sees on a statue or a corpse, your breast was the fullness of beauty. It made me long to work in a mortuary near you so that one day I might fondle them at my leisure!”

Abducted for fun (no grief today!)

I am being taken away! Because I am on a mission: have some fun (or buy stuff, or both, whatever comes first!). So this picture should tell the whole story. Yes, you are thinking what I am thinking, “Why is it my starving is making my breasts SMALLER; I need a disease to get boobies like HERS!” Well, that was my first thought, my second thought was, “I NEED to find the place where they sell those amazing tops!” I mean, if I could wear those, woo hoo – what fun I would have with my care givers when they show up and I am in a bikini bottom and that top.

Care giver: “Um…ah….Do you want to get dressed?”

Me: “I AM dressed! Haha, woo hoo! It’s beach party day!”

Seriously though, Linda is taking me away for a day, I think to spend some quality time, if you know what I mean, like this couple here. Okay, try to remember they are two GUYS! And I REALLY hope that Linda doesn’t smoke; do not like garlic breath, Doritos Chip breath and smoker breath while kissing; particularly if tongue is going to be involved.

Of course, we don’t just “go at it” (Though these days, after such a LONG time, I kinda wish we would!), there is called foreplay. Which for some people is having their Significant Other do housework (???), but for us, it is definitely eating. See us sucking on these succulent strawberries! (Alliteration!) Actually Linda does have a thing for strawberries so that would be good. And kissing AFTER strawberries is WAY better than for example kissing after Pita bread with garlic humus.

Of course, I am going to take some “me” time as well (in fact this is the part where I ask you, what do you do for fun when things are getting you down – because in case you hadn’t noticed from the GIANT BLACK CLOUD surrounding the last few days, I’ve been a little down.). I usually listen to music. Actually I also listen to music to avoid going insane. Because I seem to have super-sensitive hearing so when Linda DOES eat the Doritos, I just put on my music, drink my gatorade (with ice cream on top?), and zone out, usually to some trance music.

Of course, another option for fun is going to see something in the great outdoors. As this picture shows, even though it is heading toward winter, the great outdoors can still be pretty great with rocks and lichen and moss, and trees and such. However it is rain (AGAIN!) today, which sucks for wheelchairs because it is very hard to wheel, VERY hard to brake and you are basically saying, “Please soak my legs and crotch!” Although I do have a blanket which has been scotch-guarded.

So that leaves the indoors. There are GAMES (no, I actually meant games, get your mind out of the gutter, this is FOREPLAY!), like playing solitaire. Yes, this is pretty much how I play it, only at this point I am looking up at Linda going, “Where do you think I should put this card?” And after I do that about five times, Linda says, “Wow, I guess you must be having a bad day, this games seems really hard for you.” While inside I am going, “Hello to Linda! How many times do I have to flash my boobies at you before you get the point?! Ahhhh, jump me already!”

Oh, in case I hadn’t mentioned it, this might be a PG-13 sort of post.

Of course sometimes things need to warm up first, so a bit of tea, some dress up and some talking is actually a very enjoyable time. And CAN be foreplay (geez, what do I have on the brain today, I wonder?)!

I also like to cook, or I used to, called the “Elizabeth style of cooking” which means I go EXACTLY by the book the first time and then scientifically think about how to change it later, the next time. Only the last time I cooked my arm swelled to twice it’s size. Something about heat intolerance and cooking don’t go that well together but I can tell you; making lasagna from scratch gets Linda purring. She LOVES me! Unfortunately, after eating all the lasagna, she wants to sleep. And no, not like, “Let’s go to bed.” But like snoring and rolling over muttering, “More parmesan cheese!”

One problem is that I am a little scared of cooking meat. Because once or twice, the grease did something a little, um, disturbing, and this was me. Only I was going, in my VERY CALM VOICE, “Um Linda, can you come here for a second, I need a touch of assistance” (like a fire extinquisher!). Which is why, I recommmend for our Uke here (first off that apron needs boobs, choose appropriate attire), while he may THINK he is all sexy in his apron and short-shorts for getting his Seme (man-toy), watch out! As let me tell you, from experience, when the grease gets to splattering, there is going to be a lot of high pitched screams as it burns into that chest.

So, that’s it, I will tell the tale when I return, and with pics of me hopefully smiling, and having fun, and I REALLY hope finding that particular shop which sells those tops that I can wear with a bikini (actually I need to get new bikinis as I have gone from Medium to Small – nothing like um, wasting away, to put it in Victorian Terms). What do you do when the blues have turned black and it is raining? It seems my solution is to be abducted! Don't worry, I still be coming back to comment.

See ya!