That Which No Longer Serves You

Hello dear reader(s)!

One of the things that is an important part of my eclectic, solitary practitioning, somewhere between Wiccan and Druid spiritual path (in other words, “Whatever, I do what I want!”), is the concept that in order to make room in your life for new and good things, you must first let go of that which no longer serves you.

It’s a concept that isn’t exclusive to my path, or any Pagan path, but seems to take on more importance to those who are Pagan or Paganish.  And in my path, it tends to work with the seasons.

Like clearing fallen leaves from the last couple of months, right around now has always (even before I really started paying attention to it), seemed like the right time to start letting go of that which does not serve me.  As we get closer to Yule, it is best to have as much room for the abundance of the coming year.  Again, you don’t have to be Pagan to want to clear stuff out around New Year’s, whatever calendar you are paying attention to.  One of the things that really drew me to the path that I am on, however, is that when I was reading into it, learning it, and researching it, I definitely realized that a lot of it happens by default.  Either I instinctively do those things, or the universe does them for me.

Take today for example…

Today, I once again became single.  It was about the most mutual breakup I have ever had in my life.  The entire conversation seemed to be two people wondering if they should just go ahead and call it.  Now, I have nothing against this woman.  The issues between us would have ordinarily been rather small, but the feel was obviously off for both of us.  We just didn’t connect in that way, no matter how well we clicked and got along.  I wish her all the happiness in the world.  But the relationship wasn’t serving me, and it wasn’t serving her either, insofar as I could tell.  And even though my intentions for today were to try to figure out if if I should end things or just give it more time, I basically had the question answered for me, by her obviously figuring out the same thing I did at roughly the same time.

So now, I have the room created for something better.  By that, I mean a relationship that better serves me.  Eventually.  When I decide I want one.  In the mean time, perhaps being single is something that serves me best right now.  Who knows?

What I do know, is that despite being single for the holidays, and despite the fact that I no longer have someone in the area who will often go exploring this area with me, it was time to let that go.  It just wasn’t serving me any longer.  Maybe I can take this time to rest, try to figure out what is going on with my head, and get in a better place for later.  Maybe I have been pushing too hard in my desire to get out and have things to do in this new city.

Despite yet another short-lived, failed relationship, I remain a hopeful romantic.  I have the feeling that the person who will fit with my special list of desires, challenges, requirements, and other compatibility issues is closer in my future than I previously may have thought.  If I held on to that which was no longer serving me, then I might not have left the room open for that which possibly will.  I am happier with me alone, than I am with that which no longer serves me.  So regardless of relationship status, I know that I am going to okay.

Is there anything that no longer serves you that you have recently let go of?  Do you think that it is important to let go of some things, to make room for others?  If not, do your neighbors complain about the smell of all the trash, you hoarder?

 

Have You Met My Pet?

Hello dear reader(s)!

In addition to my lovely cats, Piedmont and Dobson, I have another pet.  My pet is named Peeve.  Peeve is a great pet, because Peeve lets me know all of the things that irritate me so that when I see those things frequently in a person, I can know that I will not be able to successfully enjoy having a relationship of any kind (professional, friendly, romantic, master-slave, etc…) with said person, because if I try, I will eventually see them as an enemy, if I do not wish them on their merry way, toward sweet Christmas.  Like, your pet Peeve may have let you know I just used a run-on sentence and my pet Peeve told me that it does not matter, because you are a grammar Nazi.

I’ve performed a pet Peeve post prior, people.  But my pet has been thinking of new and exciting things to be itself about.  Not that my pet is necessarily active at this time or anything, but just because my pet likes to tell me what is important to it when I am thinking about topics to post about.  I have also been having discussions with friends recently about these things, given events in their lives, so I think my pet has decided to weigh in, because it is an attention whore.  So without further adieu, here are some of my pet peeves, on the angle of personal relationships.

Please to enjoy.

  • Passive aggressiveness  I am not perfect.  I am aware of this.  I am pretty damn close though, admit it.  If I am confronted, I will generally admit where I am wrong if you can prove it.  It doesn’t mean I am going to lie down, (unless you have a good reason for me to), but if I do something to upset you, you can let me know like a normal human and if it is something I can modify, I will attempt to do so in most circumstances, provided you aren’t being completely unreasonable in your upsettedness, such as being offended by this run-on sentence or my use of the made-up word “upsettedness”.  What I will not tolerate however, is short responses, backhanded comments, the silent treatment, slamming around of things, withholding of any affection there may be, or any other retaliation issued without actually having the spine to confront whatever the issue was that upset someone in the first place.  No matter the level of their upsettedness.
  • Not having an opinion  I really don’t mind making decisions some of the time.  I do not mind making the decisions much of the time.  I hate making all of the decisions all of the time.  And what I hate even more than that, is when someone actually has an opinion, but is too afraid to state it.  Example:

Me:  What would you like to eat?

Person:  I don’t care, whatever you want.

Me:  {silently}  Grrrr.  Breathe.  {Audibly}  Okay, how about (insert desired food type or place here)?

Person:  No, I really don’t feel like that.

  • Making me always initiate  This would only apply to romantic or master-slave relationships, but hey, guess what?  You’re not the only one who wants to feel desired.  Sometimes, I might want you to initiate.  I do not subscribe to antiquated patriarchal gender stupidity that says only the man can have desire.  I do not think it is bad if a woman shows that she wants it.  And if there is too little initiation, I am going to assume the desire is not there, which is going to kill any I might have.  And if there is no desire, I might not want to keep you locked up in the basement anymore.  I’d hate to have to put you out on the street in just that collar, and leather g-string.
  • Negativity  The world can suck sometimes.  In fact, it can suck a lot.  But not everything sucks.  I know that you have had issues.  We all have.  And occasionally venting about it is okay.  Get that shit out.  But then once it’s out, you need to let that shit go.  Move the fuck on with your life.  Because life will move on without you.  You don’t want to be sitting around your cake at 97, barely able to keep your head up as the people in the nursing home sing to you, and you’re just thinking about the scars you were given in your twenties.  Or maybe you do, in which case, you should probably know they are only singing because the home’s Activities Director is compelling them to, before the mandatory quilting.
  • Being overly judgmental  We’re all judgmental.  It’s important to make judgments about things.  Having a pet named Peeve is taking part in making judgments.  But when you use it as a means to feel superior to those you are judging, it doesn’t make you superior, it makes you an asshole.  Granted, some behavior is clearly good, and some is clearly bad.  But for the most part (including the things that my pet does not like), it is just behavior that you yourself do not like.  It does not necessarily make those who get on your nerves any worse than you.  You probably piss some people off, yourself.
  • Taking people for granted  While you are too busy to talk to someone, I guarantee that someone is having deep conversations with that person.  While you are playing passive aggressive or treating someone like an option, someone else is making that person feel like a priority.  Sometimes life does really get in the way, but if you don’t go out of your way occasionally to let someone know they are important to you, they may start to believe that they are not.  And they are probably important to someone else, who does not mind showing them.  Not to mention, who says Granted even wants the people you are taking for it?

What about you, dear reader(s), do you have any pet peeves in relationships?   Please comment with yours, if that isn’t a pet peeve of yours.

NaNoWriStupid

Hello dear reader(s)!

As you may have noticed, I have not posted on this here blog-type-thing with any kind of frequency or consistency whatsoever this month.

Why?

The reasons are many.  A lack of cohesive thoughts.  This ridiculous headache and the two ER trips that have resulted.  Other things to do.  The need to keep what is foremost in my mind to myself or a very small circle for the time being.  Holidays.  But the primary reason?

NaNoWriMo.  For those of you who are unaware of what that stupid-ass sounding gibberish is, it means National Novel Writing Month.  And is the bane of my existence as a world-renown blog-type-thinger.  This is the month, where people who are under the delusion that anyone would want to read the crap they write, decide they can write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days.  They all decide to write this novel during the month of November, and then presumably, they all bombard publishers with their dribble at the exact same time, over-saturating an already over-saturated market and making it likely their novels will end up at $1.99 on Amazon even if they are any good.

Why November?  When the weather is actually pretty perfect to be outside?  Why not July, when you barely want to move and fear the day your air conditioner isn’t working properly?  November, with my birthday, and Thanksgiving, and the holidays, and mild (for the most part) daytime temperatures is probably the worst time to commit yourself to churning out that great novel in a month.

Why should I care when people decide to write their books?

It’s simple.  In November, my page views plummet like a pair of underwear worn by me when the woman of my dreams is standing before me telling me to ravish her against a wall.  They drop like the Dow will after Trump’s economic policies are put into place.  They fall like a bridge that is not able to be maintained under a Republican administration’s tax cuts.

So even in a good November, my posting tends to be a little spotty, like a woman on Depo-Provera.  But this November has had many more challenges.  There is the post-election fatigue and hopelessness.  There are the unexplained headaches that are downright debilitating.  There is a desire to explore my new area.  There is the scary realization that despite some good things, and low prices that may enable me to make a halfway decent life for myself here, (even on my next to nothing disability), that it does not feel at all like home.

Thanksgiving, I had a great day.  I had a great dinner, with great people, and then went to look at Christmas lights.  It was fun, but all day I was fighting off my headache.  That night, it got out of control again.  I went to the ER.  They did a CT scan.  (I had one scheduled for the next morning, but just couldn’t take the pain.)  It came out negative, which should be amazing news, but the headaches remain.  Next step is gong to see a neurologist.

Everything so far has been through my primary care doctor, or the ER.  I am waiting to see specialists, and that is the level of care I am accustomed to.  Primary doctors take one look at my numbers, and freak out.  The good news, is the ER trip did show me that I was likely just dehydrated during the previous ER trip, and my kidney function appears to be holding.

I also think that my primary doctor thinks I might be drug seeking, which is hilarious because I told the ER people that the narcotics they were injecting directly into my IV were barely helping at all, and that I hated them.  I did call my primary at one point to ask for a refill of the barbiturates the previous ER had written me for, (despite their inability to kill the pain, except when they knocked me out), but then that point became moot after the second ER visit.  I don’t want meds, I want my fucking head fixed.

Anyway, with all this going on, and the stupid month of writing our shitty novels, I have been rather bad about posting.  So bad, some might call it naughty.  Santa will bring me coal, I have been so naughty.  Perhaps someone else will give me a spanking.

And I didn’t really care.  I was content to let November pass without another post on this here blog-type-thing from yours truly.

But much to my surprise, I found out I had a fan.  And that fan, was disappointed in my lack of posting.

Now, I don’t mind disappointing family.  I don’t mind disappointing all the teachers who said I had so much potential.  I don’t mind disappointing society.  But I will never, ever purposely disappoint a fan.  Not even the little paper kind that are purely decorative.

As such, it appears as though the days of regular posting have resumed, barring any hospitalizations or real logistical issues.  They may not be good, they may not be interesting, but they will be here.  Even if that person is the only one reading, I owe it to my fan.

I wish the rest of you good luck with your novels, not that you are reading this.

 

 

Youthing

Hello dear reader(s)!

It is a beautiful day, isn’t it?  Just agree and nobody gets hurt.

I am in a great mood today!  The sun is shining, (so I have all the blinds drawn), the birds are chirping, (so my bats will have something to feed on), and things are just generally pretty good thus far.  Of course, I still have this unexplained headache, but it isn’t as debilitating this morning as it has been in previous mornings.  I am also expecting a call back from my doctor so we can hopefully get on the road to figuring out just what the hell is wrong.  That road, not coincidentally, goes through Albuquerque, NM.  Why?  Why not?

But it isn’t just lack of 10-scale pain that has me in a good mood.  I am also in a good mood because in the adulting I have had to do (like go to doctor’s appointments, dealing with insurance companies, dealing with things to establish residency, and passing out from the drugs meant to relieve my headaches), I have also taken some time for youthing.

What is youthing?

Well, dear reader(s), it is the opposite of adulting.  And everyone needs to do it, in order to not suck.  Let’s give some examples of youthing, that can be done as an adult, if you don’t suck.

  1. Celebrating holidays  This includes birthdays.  Who doesn’t celebrate birthdays?  Communists, fascists, and Jehovah’s Witnesses, that’s who.  I don’t care if you don’t get any more special privileges on your birthday once you reach a certain age, they are still important.  They are the anniversary of the day the world was graced with your presence, and unless you are a terrible human being, that day should be celebrated.  Then there are other holidays.  Maybe they celebrate the harvest, or abundance, or the fact that you are alive to face another winter, or the fact that you made it through that winter, or just another day.  I’ve never understood people who don’t want to celebrate the days that are given to us for celebrating.  You don’t have to throw a huge kegger and get fucked up by snorting lines of coke off of strippers, (sorry, exoctic dancers), but you should celebrate.  You don’t seem mature for not celebrating, you seem like a scroogey douche.
  2. Playing  You have this one life, in this body, here on this Earth.  You are not put here to suffer for an afterlife that nobody knows if you will actually have.  You will suffer plenty in this life, but you have the right to enjoy it too.  So go and play!  Take a hike.  Yeah you, take hike!  Go kayaking.  Here’s one…go to a park, and get on the swing set.  They are still fun, honest.  If you touch the chains, yeah, bring hand sanitizer.  But go have fun.  People who know how to have a good time are attractive.  Not everything is serious.  Play pool.  Play air hockey.  Go bowling.  Play video games.  Play music.  Sing terribly.  Dance like someone is watching but you are trying to make them laugh.  Do something that makes you happy.
  3. Other playing  I’d call this adulting, but really…have you seen an adult couple verses a teenage couple?  Make out.  In public.  Don’t get obscene about it, but enjoy yourself and the person you’re with.  Then go home, and do get obscene.  And have fun with it.  Do the dirty things that you’d never admit to if anyone but your lover asked.  One life.  At least one life here, with these parts, and these hormones.  Use them.  Be that horny teenager in everyday life.
  4. Treats  I try to eat healthy for the most part.  Lately, I have been failing pretty bad in that respect because a lot of my eating has been out of the house as I have been exploring the city or just have been away from home during normal meal hours.  Hopefully that will moderate a little soon, but even when it does, I am still going to treat myself.  I live in a city with the world’s greatest barbecue.  You can’t not treat yourself to the world’s greatest barbecue.  The best pulled pork sandwich I have ever had is literally a few blocks away.  (Shout out to Back Porch Barbecue!)  Also, it’s still pumpkin season.  Pumpkin everything please.  I had pumpkin pie on my birthday.  Why?  Because I am youthing as an adult, and I can.  That’s why.  Some people like cake.  They can have their cake, and eat it too.  I’ll have a piece too, because I can.  And if it is cheesecake, I’ll have a few pieces.  You might have to restrain me in order to have any left.
  5. Awe  Have you ever been around a kid under the age of 5 who is still wowed by everything new they see?  Could you imagine being that way again?  You can be.  This world has some amazing things in it that I guarantee you have never seen or experienced before.  Go find it!  Whether it is an amazing sunset, a beautiful forest, a calm lake, a vast ocean, a sweet little farm, a new city, the beautiful pictures of someone special, or anything else positive and new; there is something to inspire you if you choose to look for it.

Adulting is hard work.  There is nothing wrong with hard work, but if that is all your life is, what is the point?  You need balance, grasshopper.

So when adulting is too much, it is time for you to be youthing.

 

Headaches And Drugs And Bears, Oh My!

Regular bears, sadly not of the Hannah variety.

Hello dear reader(s)!

You have made it to Thursday!!!!  (Or whatever day it is when and where you are reading this.)  Congratulations!  Give yourselves a pat on the pat on the back.  Do it!  Now!  Or else the puppy dies.  Pat it!  Nice and slow.  Yeah….mmm…pat that back.  Pat…  yasssss.

For the last two weeks or so, (going on three), I have had massive headaches.  Today is no exception.  I am not certain as to why.  I am typically not the headache kind of person.  It isn’t as though am anti-headache…wait, yes it is.  I am decidedly anti-headache.

So, because I recently moved, am in need of referrals to specialists, and my head is fucking killing me, I decided to visit my brand spanking new (only without the spanking) primary care physician (henceforth known as PCP (not the drug)).  PCP was in a hurry, as most PCP’s usually are.  As a result, PCP did not really listen to my history.  Either that, or PCP decided that she didn’t need to listen to my history because the specialists would be handling the majority of my care.  (They will.)

However, because it will be a couple of weeks before the specialists can see me, I was hoping that PCP could help with my headaches.  Looking for the cause, not much of anything else.

PCP decided to order labs.  I understand why the PCP chose to do this, and went to the lab at the office of PCP so they could suck blood from my arm as my veins attempted to roll away from the needle of the phlebotomist (henceforth still known as phlebotomist).  Phlebotomist did a pretty good job of taking the three tubes of blood from my arm, and I was on my way to lunch and home.  Because the lab was in-house (not my actual house, but the office of PCP), I figured I might hear back on my results that day.  I did not.  I did not hear most of the next day either.  Until 8:15 pm, (15 minutes after the close of the office of PCP) I missed a call from the staff of PCP (not the PCP Staff, which is an ancient weapon that gives its user super-human strength, similar to someone on PCP).  The staff of PCP informed me that the doctor would like me to go to the ER.

Now, being who I am , I actually sort of assumed that the doctor was likely overreacting to what is my normal numbers.  I attempted to call back the staff of PCP to get my numbers.

I failed in my quest (to the dismay of the hobbits) and reached what was most likely an answering service, given how this person could not read labs.

I asked the questions important to me.  What was my creatinine?  (Not great, but not too far from my baseline, okay.)  What was my neutrophil count?  (And this is where the problem was.)  She answered in a percentage.

Uh….no.

Okay, what was the white count?  (If I had my white count, I could figure out my neutrophils by multiplying the percentage against it.)

She answered with the same percentage.

Now I’m not even trusting the creatinine number she gave me.

So off to the ER I went.  I chose the hospital that my doctor practices at.  It is actually a very nice hospital, with some competent people working there.  It is small, but the staff seemed pretty on top of things.

I was hoping (since my doctor was a part of that group), that they could just print me a copy of my labs without actually being admitted to the ER unless necessary.  But to the dismay of the hobbits, my hopes were dashed.  The doctor could access the hospital records, but not vice versa, apparently.

So in I go.  Which I guess is okay, because my head was pounding by this point, and they wanted to do more tests than just what the office did.  They put in an IV (which they got on the first try, something that hasn’t happened since 2012).  And that’s a good thing because when they did the next tests, my creatinine had climbed above my normal range.  Uh oh.

In addition, after taking the blood, my headache with annoying pain had become unbearable.  So in the ER room, they decided to stick some freaking fentanyl into my IV to help.  Not morphine.  Not dilaudid.  Fentanyl.  The big daddy.  King of the narcotics.

Holy shit.  These guys don’t fuck around.  The hobbits would have been grateful, but they were too busy trying to breathe and peel themselves from the inside of the thin ER bed mattress they had melted into.

So with my headache down a couple of pain scale points, they started me on IV fluids.  All the rest of my blood work, (while horrible), was MY horrible, and therefore okay.  I wasn’t even neutropenic (though I was right there).  They re-ran the creatinine and it had dropped back down into my baseline range.

The problem is that it didn’t drop that far.  I am not sure why it was so high, as I really didn’t think I was dehydrated.  My kidney disease wasn’t supposed to be progressive, and so I am very concerned.

They wrote me a prescription for what they said was something for pain.  I didn’t want it to be a narcotic, but knew it probably would be since I can’t take any kind of NSAID, and there is no sense in prescribing Tylenol (which is shit for headaches anyway).  I got this pill I never head of before, and figured it was more narcotics.  I took a couple, and was out like a light when I finally got home at 3 am.

Then I looked it up.  Fucking barbiturates.  They don’t kill the pain, but they sure as hell knock me out so I don’t feel it.  I spent most of yesterday asleep.  The hobbits are not amused.

I hope they figure out what is wrong soon.  It is getting hard to bear.  (See, told you there would be bears.)

Hospitaling

Hello dear reader(s)!

I apologize for not posting yet today, but yesterday ended up being one of the worst days I’ve had in quite some time.  There are many reasons for it, but the main one was having to go to the ER and staying there until about 2 am.

I still might have posted earlier today, but I was given medication.  That medication could put a meth using Jack Russell into a coma.

There are a couple continuing concerns, so if I’m a little inconsistent coming up, I apologize.

Hope you’re all good.