ibeachalot's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pfffft! Not a whole lot going on today. I don't feel like doing much of anything, so that's pretty much what I've done. I've been having trouble getting into the swing of things lately. This is due largely in part, to my poor sleep habits. I've been taking naps during the day because I'm so incredibly tired. As a result, I don't fall asleep until all hours of the night, which in turn makes me exhausted the next day. This cycle must break. It's difficult to be stuck indoors with three unruly children and giving them (and myself) a nap helps pass the time. They're all still asleep now, which is nice... but I'll regret it come 8:00pm or so. I need to see my doctor. I know, I know... I've been saying that for months, if not a year or more. I have so many health issues, I don't know where the doctor would begin. "We're sorry, Linda... you're so fucked up we don't know where to start. We have no choice but to shoot you like a old dog." I keep getting my massive headaches, my joints all ache, my arms fall asleep (I'm convinced I have carpal tunnel syndrome) and I'm positive I have heel spurs. My heels hurt so bad, I can barely walk, especially when I first get up in the morning. If this place ever caught fire and I had to leap to safety, my fat, sorry ass would burn, because I move like grandma with a broken walker these days. It's especially bad after I've been seated for long periods of time. Such as... oh, I don't know... sitting on my ass at this computer half the day and night? I'm sure many of the things that ail me will require some type of surgery. I try to avoid this like the plague for many reasons. A) I can't afford it. We're in the process of buying a big, fat house with a big, fat payment. It's the bastian of capitalism I've always dreamt of owning and I can let something trivial like my health stand in my way of getting it. I can't be bothered by pesky co-pays when I have a house to decorate. B) I can't take the time "off". You know... from my "job" of rewinding videos, cleaning feces off the TV screen and fetching shit for three ingrates (andtheirfather) to take time off to recover. My employer wouldn't hear of it. C) This is the biggest reason. I'm a big ol' candy ass. I hate pain. I hate anesthesia, because it makes me puke. I'm inpervious to pain relief. Remember me? I'm the one who had three epidurals that didn't take effect. So that leaves one choice. Suffer. So that's what I do. Don't be surprised if I bitch about it from time to time (or all the damn time), because as I've spelled out very clearly, I have no choice. I'm 36 and I've gone completely to shit. Evan had a check up this morning. The doctor said he looks great and is in perfect (physical) health. She's happy that his weight has stabilized since the Risperdal debacle. Poor kid is just now back to a normal weight. I'm so happy we took him off that shit. I can't believe I had an 80~pound four year old at one time! He wore a size 12! He's now a good six inches taller and weighs 70 pounds. He wears a size 7/8 and looks awesome. I think back to those days and how unhappy we all were. Evan's condition was so out of control, we didn't know what the future held for him, plus all the added health risks of taking that awful medication. That's water under the bridge now, thank goodness. I made some more Clay Aiken stuff to put on ebay. One of my listings was cancelled because I violated a VeRO law. Oh, boo hoo. I webgrabbed somebody's precious fucking copyrighted image and made a 50 cent magnet out of it. Get the fuck over it. Whew, I'm in a mood today, aren't I? I better go find something to do. Have a lovely day. 3:19 p.m. - 2003-07-10 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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