in the er

There i was, sitting ever so calmly at the reference desk, horrible migraine had not yet kicked in when i started to get really dizzy (even though i was sitting still in my chair.) About 10 minutes later my vision started shaking (seeing double because everything was moving so fast, as i'm trying to convince myself that this is just a new migraine symptom that i will have to get used to), 10 minutes later i completely lost my sense of balance and was falling (making other people walk back to the computer room because i was unable to.) At this point my manager was wanting to call 911 but i didn't want to pay for an ambulance. Started shaking uncontrollable, had my mom come get me (my manager and a coworker were on either side of me, supporting me, escorting me to the car and i still fell). Had to be wheeled in on a gurney and they did a cat scan thinking i may have had a stroke.
My mom came into the ER with me, which i never let her do because i'm an adult and can handle myself (plus i don't always appreciate her interrupting to clarify or add to what i'm talking, but i wasn't feeling all that capable at the moment. Triage asks me the usual "What medications have you taken lately and i try to go through what my memory allows but words don't come easily to my tongue (and memory is a little difficult to master as well.)

Laying down doesn't help too much, world still spins. I tell the nurse i just want her to give me something to knock me out. She says "Oh no you don't want that, why would you want it."

"Because i just want to sleep/be unconscious than experience this." Plus i wasn't entirely serious.

Once i'm chatting with the ER doc i remembered that glass of wine i had the night before (heavy partier that i am) and mentioned it to her and she rolled her eyes (like stupid girl, that has no influence on anything,) then i told her that i had smoked a little marijuana for my migraine and nausea which made her decide i was some kind of druggie and that my current problems reaching for words were related to marijuana affecting memory (even though i smoke it only occasionally and never have memory problems at any other time~again she rolls her eyes and says it doesn't matter how much i smoke.) She started grilling me about where i got the weed because of problems with suppliers and i'm thinking "do you know every drug dealer in town and weather there products are pure (and wouldn't they usually not want to lace weed with anything since other drugs are usually more expensive)?"

Then she wanted to know what i'd done in the past even though it's been twenty years or so, i glance at my mom because i really didn't want to subject her to the entire list of my rather extensive recreational history. Doctor says "time for full disclosure."

I run through my list for her (probably missed a few--i think my list includes pretty much everything excluding heroin.) So then she told me i was just having flashbacks or that it was bad marijuana (which seems rather unlikely because i haven't ever had flashbacks and i had already smoked from that same bag.)

Final diagnosis: vertigo. She gives me Valium and tells me to see my neurologist in the morning (and she mentioned how wonderful my neurologist was. The Valium just makes me sleepy (which, i suppose, is not bad, but it didn't help me with much else.

When i stumbled into my regular neurologist's office the next day she said she didn't think it was anything to do with drugs but wasn't too fond of the weed just because it's illegal and you don't know where it comes from and she doesn't want me getting arrested.

The Antivert she gave me was much more effective with the nausea and, somewhat with the dizziness than the Valium. I couldn't walk straight (and constantly fell down) for about three days, and the world didn't stop spinning (along with the accompanying nausea) for about a week and a half. Was bored as hell because i couldn't read and couldn't watch television too well.

Today is my first day back at work, still a little shaky and very little sense of balance, but i am doing much better.

hey... it's me...

did you notice my absence? have you missed me (if you have i'm about to make you regret it...)

i have been here and i always have good intentions to blog along but the intended never seems to actually happen...

WARNING:

DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU FEEL LIKE LISTENING TO THE RAMBLINGS OF A SOMEWHAT DERANGED MIND

i am discombobulated

My current insomnia bout has escalated into mania and my mind is racing (my computer[S?!?] are not racing with me)

I was so happy when i got a wonderful new laptop for christmas because i had become so very weary with my large, heavy, slower laptop that would often overheat and shutdown without warning even though i had taken all the tedious precautions.

My new laptop had a few problems connecting to my wireless network in my bedroom (i would be connected and then suddenly it would go away if the computer happened to move--hello---laptop... ) this particular problem was one i never had with my toshiba but i attempted to deal (even though internet in my bedroom is extremely important--my need to watch television shows and movies in there without an actual television...)
then...

this weekend the power cord to my dell suddenly seemed to deliver no power to the computer (this in and of itself is peturbing enough but also rather disturbing because i am already on the third power cord for my toshiba because they also stopped working--apparently a flaw with the model i have but given the vague memory i have of the same thing happening to an even (more?) prior computer i begin to feel that i am electronically cursed (and having the experience that i do i am extra careful with power cords...)

Back in the day my walkman (what we used to use before iPods were invented), vacum cleaner, and VCR all went out at the same time--i also walked into my mother's den once and as soon as i entered the couch exploded because of the octipi of electrical chords underneath.)

Anyway, after rouble shooting with dell i sent the computer off to have the motherboard replaced and currently i am working on my old, cumbersome toshiba and a laptop i borrowed from my mother--both these computers seem to be so slow that i am finding myself doing one thing on the borrowed toshiba in the living room and doing another thing on my toshiba in the bedroom (my toshiba has to live on a chill hub to try and decrease the chances of the aforementioned overheating) i find myself running back and forth between the bedroom and the living room because i can do something on one computer, let that process while i complete some other task---not terribly efficient
I have tried installing a newer, faster version of my router but am unable to do that with the "help" of both Dell and my internet provider (often after receiving such help i have to resort to my own technical skills which usually work out better than theirs)

kind of crazy how lack of sleep (for days on end) can scramble your mind and body more than the hallucinogenic drugs you used in your twenties...

"well i never felt more like singing the blues...

~Daniel Ash (Blue Angel)

here i sit, awake again, headaching and with a new mystery abdominal pain that has had me wishing for death going on almost two months now.

not such a great mood i'm in.

Almost Complete Randomness; or Navigating the Narrow Straights; or Things that make you Say Fuck, take dos...

(probably not the best of ideas) to blog while in a state of slight inebriation

Thoughts come so quickly its almost impossible to tell if they are actually thoughts

shall i just start rambling on?

Okay, i will:

1. I’m either losing my hair (thinning AND more importantly STRAIGHTENING out) due to

2. I don’t remember how it used to be, once again, due to

3. Advancing age (i hate the idea of straight, thin hair~though everyone else tells me that my hair does not look that way…)

4. How many cocktails do you think were created because all the liquor stores were closed or you were too drunk or lazy to go out (or who makes all the wacky liquor laws anyway {teetotalers?})

   1. grapefruit and rum (because you have no vodka except for the red pepper kind) is really, really vile and must be dumped down the sink even if that is a form of alcohol abuse

   2. mix the remaining amount of grapefruit juice with the Herding Cats Chenin Blanc/Chardonnay South African vineyard you’ve been saving because the name of the winery is so very cool but now you’re entirely desperate

   3. and then it is on to ginger ale mixed with the white wine because the point is to get drunk and expel the headache; not vomit up the alcohol, thus rendering the whole thing mute (and further alcohol abuse)

   4. admitting to whoever is out there on the anonymous internet what your at-home habits actually are

   5. you put the lime in the coconut…

      1. you don’t want to waste all of the wine so:

      2. Captain Morgan’s Parrot Bay Coconut Rum

      3. a dash of lime

      4. and Baskin Robbins Daiquiri Ice (a flavor you fell in love with way back in the childhood days before you developed the seduction of “real rum” but just because you hated sweets, and still do…

         1. which brings us to:

         2. the fact that you are so wide now you are not fitting into clothes you used to and when you were in the hospital recently you didn’t know how much you weighed because it really isn’t healthy to constantly weigh yourself but shouldn’t you go to the gym once in a while

         3. even though you haven’t paid the gym bill

         4. and they do have a scale there...

         5. and the problem isn’t your diet but your exercise

      5. (and by the by) the Daiquiri Ice/Rum/Lime with tiny ice cubes IS the perfect drink

      6. And isn’t it interesting that alcohol seems to act as a stimulant in your system instead of a depressant like it does in everyone else’s? (So that you can have all that excess energy to make a fool of yourself????)

5. Shall we give you an update on the library customers/patrons/users because we haven’t discussed them for a while and my/your (what person are we talking here anyway?) attention span is only so long?

1. That older crazy woman (i know it’s kind of difficult to know exactly who i’m referring to when i say “crazy”, as they all seem to be crazy and Paranoid, but what else can i do?) is back (well she has been in but i haven’t seen her and she’s calling [veterinarians-or-someone] to tell them that now it Has Been Proven That putting “those Microchips into dogs’ ears (they don't put them in the ears anyway) causes cancer (actually the jury still out on that one but somehow her business seems to be calling people and telling them what to do [and she would really like all of her phone calls to be private~even though she IS using our public phone~she always cups the phone and turns her back if i happen to move my chair anywhere near her~even though i can hear her perfectly well from my usual position] i couldn’t figure out if she was hanging up on them or they were hanging up on her)

2. speaking of paranoid, Mr. OldGuitarist has been in but he's not speaking to me and mainly seems to be venting his hateful fear on my manager

3. the mother with the autistic/ behavioral disordered kid continues to bring him in and i continue to experience anxiety (i have nothing to comment on here, i just wanted to get it out…)

4. the other night many, many children were running wild down the aisles and i was picking up books and i wanted to bop them on the heads with the books in my hands, and, if their parents showed any response whatsoever, say

   1. “Oh, i didn’t think they belonged to anyone. (since no one seemed to show any responsibility for their behavior)

5. I don’t think the parents of the demon spawn have jobs, because they are seen at all hours of the day in our library. The speculation is they live on public assistance and/or they travel around on the bus all day visiting different libraries…

6. MotherWhoHasNoSenseOfDiscipline has not been seen for a while (nor have her children)

7. Oddly enough i have Seen Mr. NeedsRap but he has not asked me for anything (could his ipod be full~and he doesn't know about smart playlists?)

8. i'm actually growing rather found of the MotherOfTheTwoUnrulyBoys (though i need to come up with a new name for her because she apparently only has one son~she hasn't brought in the other one since i kicked them all out and she is in a wheel chair and has some kind of disability~she does try and i grew kind of attached to and protective of her when some man thought she had abducted her son and was questioning her about his birth date and everything and she was feeling frightened and accused and i had to step in to defend her) and her son always stays with her now

6. Prego chunky garden style tomato, garlic and onion kicks ass!

7. If you have any problems with self-discipline, never live alone!!!

8. How many contortions do you think a sleeping body can be twisted into to accomadate three cats who do not like to be next to each other but somehow want to be next to the sleeping body?

9. How is it not as late as it feels?

worst fear realized

I remember the first time i ever heard the words “spinal tap” (actually I didn’t hear them, not really, it was years and years ago when i read them in William Goldman’s The Color of Light when i was going through my William Goldman phase) but those particular words might just as well have been screaming at me the way they cringed right into the depths of my soul and made me hope to whatever gods there might be that i would never, ever have to have one of those.

But i also knew that, somehow, i would have to have one, at some point, just because i feared it so very, very much (yes i did throw in an extra very there, even though one "very" is overuse enough; i just can not stress to you enough the level of fear this inspires). Let me tell you of a little "party trick" an ex-boyfriend of mine would perform for his friends (he found this one particularly effective just when i was about to make an important pool shot): He would creep up behind me and place his index finger right in the small of my back which would produce a high shriek and one of those straight-up-into-the-air-cat jumps that everyone found so very humorous. I, however, would be in recovery for the next few weeks. For some reason, i can not stand to be touched on my lower back, especially the small of my back~it is like nails on a chalkboard times one thousand inside my body~i have no idea why. (i also have issues with my belly-button~one friend who believes in reincarnation {among other things} thinks i was impaled in a previous life~a theory to which i do Not ascribe)

Apropos of not much at all i also don't like to have my ankles touch each other or rub against things and used to have broken ankles right up there with my worst fears (like that scene from Misery was unbearable) but then i broke both my ankles at the same time and it wasn't as bad as i thought, so...

Actually the spinal tap was about as bad as i thought.

I don't bring up the ankle thing just to further illustrate my insanity (though that does make for more readability, no?) but to try and explain one of the major reasons i remain tattooless~the places i would really want one would be the base of my spine or around my ankles and aside from being passe i could not stand to have the tattoo done...

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. My neurologist, who i love, and trust immensely decides we need to do a spinal tap mainly because i might have to much spinal fluid in my skull causing pressure and pain (= MIGRAINE). Somehow, when i'm sitting in her office, i react to those horrifying words "spinal tap" with perfect calm and say "okay".

For my procedure i had to lie flat on my stomach on an operating table not on my side like you usually see on t.v. or in this pic (though a friend of mine said this is how they did his so maybe they do kids this way? i think it might have been worse to try and hold perfectly still on my side.) You can't take any pain relievers that thin the blood (aspirin, ibuprofen, etc) for five days beforehand (which is ever so helpful for headaches~and trying to relax) but i did take a muscle relaxant baclofen and a xanax i was still gripping the table and clenching my teeth intensely when they were just swabbing me down for sterilization purposes. The rest of it (an x-ray {which i really didn't understand was part of the whole thing~they said something about my spine was normal...} ; the Novocaine-like injection with the Huge needle {and i really don't mind needles~usually}; and then the long tube in which they sucked the fluid out) went on for about forty-five minutes FUN forty-five minutes. Then they tell me i have to remain horizontal for twenty-four hours which was not something they told me

when i had called beforehand to find out what i needed to know about the thing. Somehow i think that's an important bit of information to leave out...

So do i stretch myself out across the reference desk like some kind of 1920s chanteuse?

"How may i help you today?"

late, lost, ailing, & pissed off

I know i've mentioned that i'm ill (very, very ill, thank you so much for asking~like wishing-i-were-not-alive ill) this week, but have i mentioned that i'm on vacation? Not that i had much planned other than trying to catch up on much needed housework (which, perhaps needless to say i haven't been able to do...) but still...

Anyway, it was so very convenient of me to schedule my vacation just in time for me to be sick (and more than one person has mentioned to me that i could actually take sick time instead of vacation time, which i could, but i with my little rampaging migrainey head, unlike most, have much more vacation time than sick time so it is all for nought...)

And, vacation or no, i was scheduled for a Readers' Advisory training this early morning, teaching one of my Chronic Conditions classes later this morning, and for the government employee sexual harassment/ethical training in the afternoon; there was just no other time to do it. So, this non-morning person drags herself out of her sick/death bed early in the morning to get into her borrowed truck (oh, i didn't mention that my car is in the shop getting its air conditioning, of all things, fixed, now did i? Well it is. The air broke sometime back in July or so and when i heard it was going to cost about $1000 (because the coils had crashed and melted or some such thing) of which i didn't have i decided not to fix it but then last week it started making this horrible whining noise and apparently the car no go without air conditioning so just in time for the cooler weather i get to get it fixed...) As i have mentioned before, i am no fan of driving, and this morning i was turning east right into the sunrise, at a height and an angle where i was unable to see a damn thing. I was rolling down the window in an attempt to see the oncoming traffic when the person behind me honks.

Honking horns are one of my biggest pet peeves in life. I once had a friend who was ticketed because he honked his horn at someone because they did not move quickly enough at a red light. The police officer told him that horns were only to be used in cases of extreme emergency. This is how i feel about horns, and if you honk at me often my biggest priority in life becomes preventing you from getting where you need to be, so think before you honk at that redhead in front of you. But this morning i was frustrated and couldn't see. For some reason i put some faith in the person behinds me and decided that if they were honking at me the way must be clear and i went barreling out into traffic. The way was not clear and i hear screeching tires and more honking horns as i bring traffic to a halt in both directions. I somehow avoided collision (though i realized that if there had been an accident that car behind me would be late to where ever they were going because they would need to fill out witness forms and the like so there would be some good done there.)

Anyhow, as i continue to drive east into the blinding sun, my migraine continues to build and i end up taking the wrong exit to library headquarters which i have, of course, been to many a time. I get lost and wandering some circuitous course through rambling neighboring streets getting ever later to my training. I finally pull into what i hope is an entrance to a parking lot (still being unable to see) go crashing over a few islands, am now twenty minutes late and with a raging headache and finally decide that it is time to call it a wash, turn around and go back home.

I make it to my class without incident.

But then when i try to go to my ethics training there is some kind of Health Fair going on at the government center (i would comment on the irony, but i am in no mood). I drive around and around and around the parking lot looking for parking but to no avail. When i finally find i spot and run to class i have been locked out. Of course when i walk back out to my car there is parking everywhere.

It is back to bed for me...

Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome with Added Value Alertness

I know, i know have been quite remiss with this whole blog thingie, but believe me that is not the only thing i have been remiss with (but perhaps we will get into that later…)
So i had an appointment with a neurological sleep specialist upon referral from my neurological headache specialist (as my insomnia seems somewhat unresponsive to many forms of medication and my sleep patterns continue to be erratic to say the very least). He decided (and his diagnosis made perfect sense to me) that i have something called Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome, which basically means that my circadian rhythm is a bit off (or in other words i’m a night owl~something i’ve been aware of since i’ve been aware of the term (and my mother has been aware of for much, much longer). He also doesn’t think i have any kind of symptoms of breathing problems (so for all those friends and relatives who have been telling me i have sleep apnea and that accounts for oh-so-much-wrong-with-me-and-my-life~nanny, nanny, nanny ;)~.
Apparently exposure to sunlight causes the release of certain proteins that help regulate wake cycles (we’re talking in addition to melatonin here) and recent research has shown (recent research i have been unable to find~by the by) that some of us release a great deal more of these proteins than others causing us to be unable to sleep at the “normal” hours. Many of us our misdiagnosed with insomnia, when actually, if we were just allowed to sleep when our bodies wanted to, say 3:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m. we would be fine (see, i’m not really lazy, everyone else is just on the wrong schedule, well maybe that’s a stretch~the my-not-being-lazy part, that is…) In the past, they have mostly adjusted behaviour for these problems (usually making sleep times progressively later until it is where you want it to be) which hasn’t really solved the problem. The new treatment involves light therapy (similar to treatment for S.A.D.) which helps with the behavioural adjustment (also 80% of people who suffer from depression also have some kind of sleep disorder~similar to the coincidence of depression and migraines…hmmm...)

Also important is sleep hygiene: common sense things like keeping to a standard wake-up time on week days and weekends; eliminating caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol; avoiding napping; regular exercise (though not before bedtime); avoiding food or drink before bedtime; turn the alarm clock away from you; and the toughie for me~only using your bedroom for sleeping (which i’m not all that into as my bedroom is my retreat and i like to use it as such during the day). You also shouldn't watch the nightly news because that is meant to capture your attention. If you watch t.v. it shouldn't be anything with a beginning and end point (like a movie~because it is building to a conclusion). Same thing with reading~no novels (beginning and end), nothing you might have a personal interest in. So what is left? He mentioned encyclopedias. (i stayed mute about my interest in Those...) The dictionary (too much etymological interest there). Oh the curses of being a reference librarian (or the interests that drive you to be one...) Evolutionarily the whole night owl thing makes sense, i mean someone had to stay awake to guard the cave at night, right? So i’m a guardian. Kind of like a night warrior. Rampage on.

I haven’t yet gotten to the whole lightbox thing, i’m thinking, if i’m trying to simulate sunlight exposure, what about just sunlight exposure in and of itself? My other issue, apparently, is that i am inordinately alert to things going on in my environment so, even when i’m sleeping, i have a certain level of awareness (makes sense~being a Night Warrior/Guardian and all). After we get the light and schedule thing together, then perhaps we can move on to the sleeping drugs (though i already take lyrica {which is also supposed to help with my nerve pain~another migraine side effect} every night adding in a seroquel, or two, or three [i suppose i stop taking them when i pass out~the headache doc was a little unclear~she said until i could sleep...] if a migraine is not allowing sleep). The sleep doc says sleeping pills have not done anything in the past because of my wonderfully odd chemistry (and i suppose adding them in does something to kill my extra-special alertness (???)).

The other night, i came home exhausted from work and went to sleep about 11:30 p.m. (occasionally i can do this if i am extremely tired, although other times i can be too tired to do anything and not sleep~though i also took my lyrica~sometimes i forget and then it is too late) I then woke up about 2:00 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep until 8:30 a.m. (didn't have to work until noon that day). So now i'm not so convinced about the whole DSPS and maybe i'm not following any circadian rhythm at all, but my body just functions more like free form jazz (and that would make sense for MY body~although i did have some symptoms that defied categorization~quite normal for me~i have the quite usual experience of sitting in the examination room and having the doctor [or p.a. or n.p. or intern or whatever...] come back in shaking his head saying "I've never seen this before" and i'm thinking, "well i have"...)

for just a moment

sometimes drinking is the only thing that will numb the pain

melt the hailstone

that everpresent

Rock

ironic

in a way

isn't it

that i don't drink

often

(once upon a time, never alone...)

and toxic

intoxication

makes forgetfulness come

and go for

just long enough

to remember

that it

is enough

for just a moment

but then it is gone

in a moment (and every moment after . . . )

up in the night

I remember way back in the dark ages (like 1993 or thereabouts) of the internet i would sometimes get caught up, wrapped up, taken away, whatever, by the many possibilities~the many linkages, for lack of better words (here and above)~but it was oh-so-different then. My computer was a monochromatic laptop (well, i did have a colour monitor i could hook it up to but it would have just been a blue screen full of text then...)

Anyway, back then linking was a much different thing than it is today~you could click on links, but they were all text based (not that there was much visual stuff going on yet anyway~except for some early experimentation with Mosaic) and once you clicked it was rather difficult (at least for me) to find your way back. I often found myself heading down "alleys" and winding up lost on some "dead end"~it wasn't the best distraction for insomnia/migraines (though the migraines didn't need quite as much distraction back then).

I didn't seem to waste as much time on the internet in the middle of the night then as i do now (or at least not following links). In some ways the ease of internet research and hyperlinking is a librarian's nightmare come true. All that research at the literal tip of your fingers. And it truly is endless.

When i was a kid (even further back in the prehistoric past) i used to love looking things up in the encyclopedia set we kept in the living room, one reference would send me to the next reference (or two, or three,) and so on, and so on... At some point i would tire of pulling books and flipping pages, back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. Things are so much, ahem, easier, in the computer age.

And it just plays right into the hands and heads (or is it the other way around?) of we insomniacs who can't quench the knowledge thirst. Tonight i was doing just a quick survey of "What's New?" over at Snopes and somehow here i am, about four hours later, with multiple tabs open, full of knowledge about the history of the AIDS epidemic (as well as a number of other pandemics~and when something is determined to be a pandemic) the difference in meaning between zoophillia, bestiality, and zoosexuality; what methemoglobinemia is; as well as many other incredibly useful tidbits (and who knew that there was such a thing as a cuddly little Ebola toy you could have for your very own? I certainly didn't, until now that is.) Now, you may ask, what the relationship is between these things. Perhaps there isn't a visibly direct link, but somehow or else each one of them led to the next (or quite a few others i've left out for the sake of some brevity.)

Sometimes i long for those dead ends.

"Do you like headaches?"

I had an eight year old girl ask me last night.

(the question gave me pause~oh little girl, you don’t know what or who you’re asking…)

although there was actually a time, i think, in the distant past, i dimly remember, when these headaches Were Not an EverPresent part of my life

Very hard for me to remember/believe~i do rather vividly remember the very first time i had to go to the emergency room with a migraine and i thought i would just die~or at least wanted to~from the intense, mind-cracking pain~the very, very worst i had experienced up until that point...

now that intensity of pain would tip about a five or six on my scale of one to ten... it's all relative i guess (and am i really happy that i can now tolerate what was once intolerable???)

“No, i don’t think anyone likes headaches,” was the most neutral answer i could come up with, as i watched her rub her temples (i could tell the poor child had a headache~she had had a long evening~her uncle had been entertaining his work comrades~me included~for the first time in his new abode...)

I had also had a migraine for all of the day and all of the night (no big surprise there). But i didn't really want to miss an opportunity for saketinis (and the possibility of alcohol chasing the head pounding away if only temporarily) and a little socializing.

And, in fact, with the aid of a littile imitrex (thanks to my friend, because i had run out), and more than a little sake, vodka, and cherry juice, the big giant rock i affectionately call my migraine went a little less noticed for a while and i got a little more notice than i should have while i prattled on about things i probably shouldn't have (i mean talking about former libraries and former co-workers with people in admin when its all part of the same family might be a little ill-advised...at least i wasn't commenting much on current events~so to speak...). But it was all in good fun, right?

Isn't it interesting how inhibitions and pain receptors often seem to reside in the same parts of the brain?

Yet the question remains...

Does anyone REALLY like headaches?

(because they can have all of mine...)

"How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world"

~William Shakespeare

big giant rock

in my head

big giant

sharp, pounding, jabbing

rock

in the right side

of my head

that won’t stop

pounding

throbbing

hurting

keeping

me from

thought

and action

and sleep

and

life.

rock that

jars

and hurts

big giant rock

that constantly shifts and changes

its surface

from sharp and ice-pick like

to dull

then spiky, rough

shifting, just enough

to cause the maximum amount of pain

until it is almost unnoticeable because it is too much

and then again

it changes

and throws itself against the limits of my skull

that is tender from

too much

pounding

and

jabbing

and always

reminds

me

that

it is here

and there

and just

won’t leave.

Big Giant Rock.

to do list item #1: find a different life to live

My life has lost all semblance of control.

or so it seems... i am drowning in mediocrity, lack of motivation, and piles of undone things.

(and apparently the desperate, wannabe, poetry of a weepy teen aged girl~but i guess that's mediocrity for you...)

My debt has amassed to a point beyond paying (so much for live now pay later, but i don't feel like i've done much living~well i'm living through a hell of a lot of pain...i know, i know, whine, whine, whine, but it's really oh so damn hot and my head just won't let up, and there is some kind of feline digestive flu epidemic running through the house that causes the cats to have icky substance spew forth from all of their orifices and i am forced, in my weakened, martyred state to clean up after them and i really begin to wonder what is the point after a while, you know what i mean???)

All my plans to knock over a bank seem somehow unworkable (not to mention difficult to work into my schedule of work, pain, wallowing, malingering, and not sleeping). Any quick cash ideas are not quick enough, are too much work, or are entirely too fictional to consider. If i could somehow make money from the piles of stuff that still refuses to clean itself up and continues to build on all the surface areas of my house.

Alright, allow me to wallow in this self-pity for a nonce and then i'll get back to my own patented form of Denial, Depression, and Endurance...

"Wow, this must be what smart people do."

was what she said as she was (ever so loudly) reading aloud the titles of all the free newspapers on her way out of the library. A painful amount of time earlier i had heard her shouting "I'm sorry, I've never been to a library before, I don't know how to be quiet," from across the room.

Oh, what to do with that one? So she understands the concept of being quiet in a library she just doesn't have the physical capacity to modulate her voice? Is that a disability that the ADA is aware of, and should we all be wearing earplugs to accommodate her? Or is that perhaps a skill being taught in libraries around the world (thus her need to mention that she's never been in one before), and should i have then leapt from my chair to begin instruction in those all important vocal skills? Damn, i must have slept through that class in library school... (and should i have broken it to her that we have quite a few other not-smart people grace our presence here?) I really just can't take the time to talk to her about any of it right now because, for some reason, her shouting has really exacerbated the pounding in my head and it is all i can do to cradle my temple in the palm of my hand and slowly breath in and out, in and out, waiting for her to leave.

I remember the last Friday the Thirteenth i was also working here with our bright young circ clerk, and just as i finished telling him that i liked Friday the Thirteenths and he was pondering why that would be (he could understand how someone would feel indifferent to them, but LIKE them?!?), i got a call from the substitute i thought i had escaped (the one who just loves, loves, loves Dr. Laura) when i left my last library telling me that she was going to be late. Once she got to the library she started talking about how she was in the process of renovating her mind and things went downhill from there. I told BrightYoungCircClerk that i was reconsidering my whole Friday the Thirteenth stance.

So here we are again, me, BrightYoungCircClerk, and Friday the Thirteenth (at least no substitute clerks scheduled this time~but there also isn't a substitute librarian scheduled for MyAbsentCollegue so i do have to work the Entire day instead of cutting out after my usual shift. Things are off to a bang with some foreign object being stuck in the floppy drive of one of our public computers. Then when i try to open the drawer to get the stuck-foreign-object-remover out, that drawer is stuck closed.

I have the usual complaints about people not getting to where they want to go on the internet, and not remembering the passwords to their accounts, and the sites that they want to visit not working like they should, and why doesn't the library take care of that (because, as everyone knows, because the library provides access to the internet, it controls everything on the internet, as well as keeping track of everyone's password to every site in our massive databank somewhere, and why am i not being more helpful?)? And then there was the local paper that misprinted us as being a drop-off point for certain recyclables that we are not a drop-off point for but because the paper said so that is also my responsibility (well basically libraries and librarians are responsible for everything that goes on in the world and you can get anything and everything at your local library and if your local librarian tries to tell you any differently well, she's probably just lying or has something against you personally, i mean that's why libraries are so overfunded everywhere you look, Right?)

I actually defended the mother of the unruly boys (well actually she's only been bringing one in since the time i suggested they all leave) because another customer thought that she had kidnapped the one boy she had with her. He had told our circ supervisor out in the parking lot that he heard him "freaking out" and wanting to get away, so she came in to check and saw who it was, decided there was no problem, and then pulled me aside to tell me. (I had seen the so-called freak out which was actually the child asking for someone's library card and being refused, i remember because that was when i first noticed they were there, and i felt my migraine twitch, and thought "oh please, do not stay long", but their was no freak out, believe me, i have seen many freak outs and that was not one...)

Anyway, alerting our circ supervisor was not enough of a safety precaution because the man came back in to accost the mother and son by asking them all kinds of questions about who and what they were, to the point that i actually felt sorry for the family who had been sort of backed up against the reference desk by Mr. Inquiry, and i felt compelled to step in and confirm that, yes this was her son,she came in with him all the time, and everything was fine. Forcing me to take some kind of authority-like position when i'm in charge, now that's really annoying...

I have this woman that always comes in a few minutes before we close with odd recipe requests~recipes that she wants me to find and print out for her from the internet. I saw odd because she doesn't really care about any details except for one ingredient. The first night she wanted a casserole made with ranch dressing. Chicken, beef, tofu? Doesn't matter (now i could understand if you had excess ranch dressing lying about but wouldn't you have to purchase the main ingredient?)

She's in here tonight, huffing and puffing and wondering what the symptoms of heat stroke are. Unsympathetic me is just wishing she would hurry up and pass out so i can call 911 or get on with whatever else she wants so i can continue my closing routine (and she's sorry she's come in so late, yet again, she was trying to get in earlier...) Now she's wanting no-bake cookies with flour. After a cursory search, i am trying to close after all, and i have suggested the cookbooks as well as her trying the internet for herself, i found no no-bake cookies made with flour, then found myself embroiled in a conversation about binding ingredients in no-bake cookies and how flour was usually used in baked cookies. But she doesn't bake (she doesn't do computers and she doesn't bake~i know the casserole recipe i gave her required baking but i'll just leave that be...)

She says she doesn't do computers so she always has to have someone sitting with her, for financial reasons. ??? (I can understand not having a computer for financial reasons or having to have someone with you to help you but where do the two meet?)

She has more questions for me but i have to go shut down the internet computers so she asks me for some paper. When i come back i inquire what she was going to ask but she says she managed to retrieve it (from where? the computer she doesn't know how to use? the brain which i also have some serious doubts about?)

Then she tells me she was watching some program on the Discovery channel about foods to eat to strengthen your breast milk and do i know anything about that? Uh, no. That, she says, is why she's always asking about food (ranch dressing and no-bake cookies?). I suggest a doctor or nutritionist (but i suppose, as a library, we really should be providing those services here, SHOULDN"T WE?). She says she always hears people talking about republicans and democrats and the controversies within the catholic church and jews and research and stuff, "so, you know..."

(um, no, i really don't know)

"Okay, thanks, I'll see you next time."

(i'll be here...)

¿do i Really want to know?

On December 26 of last year Diane Rehm had Ann Fessler on her show to talk about the book The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in the Decades before Roe v. Wade , she also talked to some of the women featured in the book. I was listening to the show a while ago (yes i know, more than a little late there~but i have many podcasts stacked up on my computer and i just listen to them whenever). Actually i think it was the second time i listened to that particular show, and then i decided to read the book even though i knew it would bring up issues for me.

I am an adoptee who really has never had any desire to seek out my birth mother. I used to have a baby book (well i'm sure i still have it~i just don't know where~it used to be on a certain shelf in my mother's bedroom where i could always find it~and then, at some point in my "adult" life she decided to give it to me~silly, silly mom...), a special baby book made just for adoptees, talking about how special and lucky we were to be chosen. I loved that baby book and would seek it out again and again (is that something that everyone does?) not just to look at pictures of myself when i was young, and to read notes from my father of my wonderful progress through infancy and toddlerhood (as well as some of those kindergarten "report cards"~one in which my teacher said i acted like a china doll, as if i was afraid to move for fear i would break~ha, little did she know~after forty years of many broken bones that five-year old self knew more than she could possibly imagine), but also to read that tiny 1/3 of a sheet of information about my birthparents (some ethnic info: German on both sides, Irish on one, French on the other, as i've already mentioned; mother very intelligent and wanting the best for me; father completed college and involved in "some kind" of electrical work~perhaps he was an alien just passing through our solar system on his way to elsewhere~my quirky body chemistry has sometimes led me to suspect as much.) There was also a few pages written by the foster mother who cared for me for the first five weeks of my life~talking about what a wonderful baby i was~i remember poring over those pages, i don't know when it was that i realized those blacked-out portions were the name i was called before i was me. In reading the accounts of these birth-mothers i realized that many of them named their babies before they were surrendered~perhaps i even had two names before the one that currently identifies me~the one that IS me, that seems to be so much a part of everything that i am~that is quite a ponderous thought.

So many of the women in this book talked about how they felt forced or coerced into surrendering their children, that it is not something they wanted to do. I understand that this was a different time period that perhaps i cannot relate to but my personality is such that i would make a choice that i really didn't want to, my mother who IS of this generation never would either. I really am not criticizing these women, but i believe they are, in some ways not taking responsibility for their choices, they DID make a choice, even in allowing others to make choices for them. Do i feel for them? Absolutely, i even cried for them. I also cried for myself. Though i am glad my birthmother gave me "a way" (for a better life~as one of the women said) she also left me with some abandonment and rejection issues, which, through reinforcement with some other life events, have led to trust and commitment issues (which i fully own as mine.) Even if she felt forced into what she did i don't feel there is any place in my life for her (plus there is a fear of a second rejection if i sought her out).

I felt sorry for young women who had no sexual knowledge or education whatsoever, who, often, had their first physical exam as adults be their first prenatal exam by judgemental, paternalistic MDs; who had to live in homes for "deviants and delinquents"; who gave birth alone and afraid with no idea what was going on, then had to try and pretend nothing happened. One woman who had gone through an abortion years after she gave up her baby for adoption said giving up the baby was much more traumatic~knowing that there was a part of you out there, maybe, you didn't know whether it was living or dead, doing well or not~that is why i could never do it. I have no blame for these women, it was terrible to shame them the way they were shamed (as if they "had no right to be a mother")~expecting people not to do something that has always been done and giving them no education or options is no option~societies all over have proven that~restrictions often make the forbidden all that more appealing.

I do not agree with the woman who objects to the term "birth-mother" (also terms such as natural mother, life mother, biological mother, first mother, etc.) as if they weren't a real mother~i don't believe they are, my real mother is the woman who raised me, who mothered me, not the woman who made a mistake, carried me for nine months, and birthed me, though i'm grateful i often have a hard time coming up with a name for her myself (sometimes she is just "that woman"~i'm really not as bitter as i sound). And although i sometimes think i want a medical history (especially given my medical problems~what i don't know and what i do know is one of the many reasons i have chosen not to have my own children) But i have also always had the sense that not knowing gives me the freedom to not be limited by my own genetics, as unreasonable as that is. But why should we expect feelings to be rational.

The book, however, is well worth reading and gives you a glimpse into something that has often remained hidden.

fang marks and all

Yesterday/today (it's always so confusing in the wee hours what to call the day~because i haven't been to bed yet so it doesn't really seem like yesterday~but anyway...) was kind of a bitch~i was feeling like shit (have yet another cold and so does Dixie~if cats do indeed get colds i'm finding/getting conflicting information on that front~but the fact that my twelve year old cat is sneezing and congested/having trouble breathing disturbs me terribly.)

My library system started its summer reading program Friday and i didn't work until Saturday, so when i got to work one of the things i did was wander around looking for some of the display tape and other things my manager had said she was going to put up. So there i was, without my nametag (it's temporarily lost) meandering, looking like i had no idea where i was or what i was doing, when i had the sudden sense i was being followed; i turned around only to be assaulted by a couple of librarian questions... I was tempted to ask "Do i LOOK like i work here???" but of course i didn't, i very cooperatively helped them out like any good librarian should, but how the hell did they know?

Had a migraine ~towards the end i had to keep running to the bathroom to throw up and we still had customers every time i came out wanting things~i was late locking the doors and there were still people there asking to put holds on things and i told them "I'm sorry, i'm closed, you will have to come back another time," something which did not please them, and i usually don't do but i needed to get out of there (maybe if i threw up on them they would have sensed the urgency?)

Anyway, i get home, feeling, as i said, ooaoogy (you know what i mean, don't you?), and grumpy, to discover that Amazon has delivered the new Spike issue: SPIKE: Asylum. This discovery ignited in me a desire to read the other two Spike collections i already had, Spike and Spike vs Dracula (the second of which i discovered, interestingly enough, had two small bite marks in the lower right hand corner, which had me puzzled for a few minutes~was this a design feature {a bit much really for a mass produced graphic novel} or~a much more likely possibility~the result of Dixie's biblio-fascination?). So, i have spent the night, distracting myself from the extreme pain in my head in my neck and head, by reading about one of my favorite characters.

Spike actually started out as a temporary-guest-starring role on Buffy the Vampire Slayer and eventually grew into a regular on both Buffy and Angel. Spike is a collection of three separate tales: Old Times; Old Wounds; and Lost & Found. Old Times puts a new spin on Spike's "siring" (and also where he met Halfrek before). Old Wounds tells about Spike's alleged involvement in the Black Dahlia case (as well as the fact that he had heard of "Los Hermanos Numeros" and never informed Angel.) Which leaves us with Lost & Found, bringing back that Other ever-so-lovely blonde Harmony and the pesky "Gem of Amarra".

The (curiously-bite-marked) Spike vs. Dracula includes Spike's (as well as Darla's and Drucilla's) first meeting with the Dark Prince, which adds more back-story to Angel's curse. Then there's meeting at Bella Lugosi's play "Dracula". The next meeting occurs in 1943 Berlin (in case you didn't know there were some truly nasty characters roaming about then). Here we encounter a certain Nathaniel Osborne and have a prefiguration of a Uboat incident. Then, when Dru and Spike are living la Dolce Vita in Rome of 1959 they encounter the Comte de Saint-Germain (tho not a vampire as of yet, leave that up to Chelsea Quinn Yarbro) and Spike unwittingly makes the way for the first Buffy episode of season four. Their final meeting is in Los Angeles, 2003 with Spike in his ghostly form. This graphic novel is worth reading if only for the interlude of "What I Did For My Birthday" by... (well i won't give it away) alone.

And finally we come to Asylum wherein the Spikester is tricked into signing himself into the Mosaic Wellness Center "where Mutant Enemies learn to be Mutant Friends" (one of oh-so-many inside jokes. Mosaic is supposedly a rehabilitation center for vampires, demons, witches, monsters, and all sorts of other beasties of the big bad dark. However once Spike arrives he discovers that not all is as it seems, now who would have thunk it??? Overall, well written, well drawn, well inked, and well coloured...

*this is a scan of Mosaic’s administrator(you really SHOULD check out the book because this one pathetic scan was the best i could do and it just doesn't do her justice)~Brian Lynch tells us in his “Commentary Track” that the script called for a “hot librarian” and this is what Franco Urru drew (which Lynch described as perfect)~why do i love it so? it’s like he was drawing me~it doesn't show so well in the scan but her hair is red and the figure is not so waif-like-modelly (when i had a bit more hair and a FEW less pounds) to a tee (although i was talked to once about my work attire~it was a i-REALLY-need-to-do-my-laundry-day-or-i-would-never-dress-this-way!)

it's a wonderful day in the neighborhood

I’m going to whine for a moment about my head~i try hard not to dwell on it, believe it or not, but sometimes it just really gets to me. I have had a tremendously evil migraine pretty much continuously now for about two and ½ weeks straight~well actually, i did have one day of a break but that’s all~do i really need to tell you how much that sucks?

Not only do i have this damn chronic daily headache thing which is a total pain in the head, to say the least, then comes this big, sharp, jabbing, stabbing, indescribable pain that just won't let up. And then the nausea ~like seasickness on dry land, vertigo, hallucinations (smells, sound, and light) and dry heaves. And when its really bad, light causes pain, and sound causes pain, and moving causes pain, and all i can do is lie there and try to think of something other than pain.

And people ask, "isn't there anything you can take?" Well no, not really~because you can only take pain relievers or migraine meds two to three times per weeks then your into rebound headaches~and if it doesn't work that first time then i might as well give up, because i know it won't do any good. And i feel like if i grin and bear it and drag myself to work because i have to, because i can't afford to loose my job ,and i don't have any sick days left then people don't believe it can really be that bad, and they ask "how can you stand it?" or "how can you can on?" when really, how can i not? what choice do i have?...oh poor, poor me, wah, wah, wah...

But i do have a new neuro, and we are going through a new round of trials so maybe... (yeah maybe, after thirteen years of trying this i still have some hope... i have to) I just keep thinking haven't i yet learned what i'm supposed to learn from this???