.
.
When frustrated in my search for a place which will take both Sam and Sassy, I have been researching cardiogenic pulmonary edema. That is the diagnosis I have been given. Though they have access to test results which are not here for me to evaluate, I can look at the symptom lists, read about the topic, and read between the lines. What I am finding is that there is a huge flaw in the symptom list I have and the ones offered in the places I have looked. I am suspecting, again, the diagnosis is probably non-cardiogenic pulmonary edema. Further, signs of heart failure they seem to indicate do not match any symptoms I have. No, smoke and mirrors again. Just like with the ear ache and a few other things, they won't treat what ails me, choosing to try and treat me for something that cannot be treated their way. If you remember rightly, the ear ached left of it's own accord.
Some of the problems with the diagnosis? I am not oxygen deprived and should be. I am not coughing up blood and I should be. I am not turning blue or grey and I should be. Though those are only potential issues, they are rather strongly significant ones, at least two of those should be showing. There are other problems as well. I'm being bulloxed. Some reasonable and odd causes for non-cardiogenic are breathing toxic materials from ammonia to CO2, hemodialysis and urinary alkalinization, and the use of hydrochlorothiazide (my last diuretic).
This is all well and good. My problem? They are not treating the right diagnosis. While the new diuretic is prescribed for their given diagnosis, it is not helpful for my suspected diagnosis. It does not, in fact, functionally affect my breathing difficulty. Further, finding what is really the problem is impossible if it is not being researched. Worse yet, untreated non-cardiogenic pulmonary edema can become as bad as if it was the other, if not treated. I am really beginning to hate doctors. And, no, they can't be trusted. They single mindedly want me on high blood pressure medicine, medicine I can't take, and will ignore anything else in this pursuit. If for no other reason, though I have a serious one, I would not take those pills. Damn straight.
I will continue on light duty, with a shorter list of tasks including searching for a place for Sam and Sassy. I must prepare for the possibilities, whatever they may be. If I had the money, I would seek competent medical treatment. Bureaucrats should not be allowed to become doctors! In any case, I have what I have. I am going to begin a search for home remedies for non-cardiogenic pulmonary edema. Hey buddy can you spare a breath of fresh air? Damn academics should be jailed when they try to practice what they theorize, or really, what some other damned fool academic theorized. Idiots.
Hmm, I do feel better already. Later.
Update: I am not sure which is worse. Treatment for 'non' involves intensive care lung cleaning through invasive machines. Often with the patient needing to be sedated to unconsciousness. *raises hand* A third still die, if treatment goes forward. The problem here? My blood oxygen levels are running at 110 where normal is 90 to 100. In other words, I am not missing oxygen as I should be for both diagnosis's. Hmm... I simply have a stubborn body I guess.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
I keep looking.
.
.
I am trying to find a place which will take Sam and Sassy. Since they are not strays, they can be put in other places to await adoption. The problem I keep running into is Sam's age. At nearly 8, she is too old for all the places I have seen. I had so hoped to find a place to take them both into a home, difficult as that might be. To not even find a place that will accept Sam for such considerations is very troubling.
I need to speak with a doctor. I need to find out how much time I have, even a rough guess would be helpful. There is so much to do, but without knowing how much time I might have to work with, planning is difficult. Tomorrow I will take stock, place some calls, and figure out some forms. I would also like to see if a doctor would prescribe pain pills for the eventual situation. Living alone and not willing to go in to be mistreated by further medical interventions or experimentation, it might otherwise be quite painful. I believe I have some minor pain medications from some past incidences if that fails.
The hardest part of this whole thing is giving up Sam and Sassy. They have been constant friends and companions. I will miss them bitterly, but I simply do not want them to have to suffer with me. The idea of dying alone really stinks, but I have done this before. The pain, as I have said, also is something that does worry me, if not so much as the concern about making sure Sam and Sassy aren't put down.
I won't say I was finally getting better, but I have been doing more and finding success of late. I will continue with some of it. Getting my home in order was on the list, climbing even a bit was there too, and I would still like to put the roof on the coop and reload bullets. All future type plans, though, are being taken off the list. So much has changed. And yet I will not just stop, feel sorry for myself, or surrender.
.
I am trying to find a place which will take Sam and Sassy. Since they are not strays, they can be put in other places to await adoption. The problem I keep running into is Sam's age. At nearly 8, she is too old for all the places I have seen. I had so hoped to find a place to take them both into a home, difficult as that might be. To not even find a place that will accept Sam for such considerations is very troubling.
I need to speak with a doctor. I need to find out how much time I have, even a rough guess would be helpful. There is so much to do, but without knowing how much time I might have to work with, planning is difficult. Tomorrow I will take stock, place some calls, and figure out some forms. I would also like to see if a doctor would prescribe pain pills for the eventual situation. Living alone and not willing to go in to be mistreated by further medical interventions or experimentation, it might otherwise be quite painful. I believe I have some minor pain medications from some past incidences if that fails.
The hardest part of this whole thing is giving up Sam and Sassy. They have been constant friends and companions. I will miss them bitterly, but I simply do not want them to have to suffer with me. The idea of dying alone really stinks, but I have done this before. The pain, as I have said, also is something that does worry me, if not so much as the concern about making sure Sam and Sassy aren't put down.
I won't say I was finally getting better, but I have been doing more and finding success of late. I will continue with some of it. Getting my home in order was on the list, climbing even a bit was there too, and I would still like to put the roof on the coop and reload bullets. All future type plans, though, are being taken off the list. So much has changed. And yet I will not just stop, feel sorry for myself, or surrender.
It had to come down to this.
.
.
The nurse called as I was getting ready for bed this morning. I had stayed awake finishing a few tasks and then reading the material that came with my washing machine. Instructions which, while literally instructive, lacked detail or depth. Much like a automobile manual with descriptions for various things such as; the steering wheel, a device by which the driver manually inputs directional control to the vehicle. Well, okay, I suppose that is accurate and all. But it really lacks something. Then again I was reading for a simple heads up and stalling off sleep waiting for a phone call.
Finally the call arrived. The nurse suggested my doctor had reviewed the information gathered to date at other appointments and at the emergency room visit. It seems my left ventricle is the problem. That side of my heart has increased in size due to high blood pressure. As well, my liver is failing. I believe my notion that the water pill will do nothing to help with fluid building up in my lungs is probably correct. It was merely being used as a gateway drug to other and additional drugs to lower my blood pressure. The nurse then said the doctor had prescribed lisinopril. I, again, said that I could not take the medicine. I suggested they not send it. Already sent, I am told. Very well, may I bring it back, I ask? She says so long as the package is not opened, on my return visit, I may return it.
She then suggested she would consult with the doctor and call me back. I tried to stay awake longer but simply ran out of time. I just tried to call her back, having waken, and left a message with my particulars and phone number. Hopefully I will know more in a bit. At this time, I think, no medicine will probably help.
Further, I understand the severity of this. Since the blood pressure is seemingly untreatable, seeking medical attention for a heart attack or liver failure would merely prolong a very painful death. I am going to ask, if probably not receive, a pain killer for when it begins. I am not sure how much of a time frame to expect yet. They are scheduling more testing, but perhaps I can get something on that when the nurse calls back.
I have to figure some things out. I need to find a place for Sam and Sassy, I don't want to see them put down or left to the wilds. I need to get on some money issues, some money which is due me. And, yes, I would like to put my home in order. If I can't live orderly, I would at least like to offer a comfortable place to stay for those who show up to deal with this. I don't know how to give this kind of news to my mother.
There are some upsides, mind you. Now I know what is wrong, or probably. I will not be dealing with what the future is about to hold. And, if my single remembered near-death experience was at all accurate, I will be in a far better place. But even more, this life as a cripple (one even many doctors do not seem to believe or understand), humbling, frustrating, painful, and alone, can now be left behind. Odd as it might seem, I would still continue with it if there was a way. If nothing else can be said about me, that I went from not only not wanting to be alive and further attempted suicide in some ridiculous ways, to finally enjoying the simple nature of being alive. Alive without the window dressing of any personal importance, social or economic value, or even the love of a wife and family. That might be worth the pain suffered to get to this point.
I will know more soon. I hope.
.
The nurse called as I was getting ready for bed this morning. I had stayed awake finishing a few tasks and then reading the material that came with my washing machine. Instructions which, while literally instructive, lacked detail or depth. Much like a automobile manual with descriptions for various things such as; the steering wheel, a device by which the driver manually inputs directional control to the vehicle. Well, okay, I suppose that is accurate and all. But it really lacks something. Then again I was reading for a simple heads up and stalling off sleep waiting for a phone call.
Finally the call arrived. The nurse suggested my doctor had reviewed the information gathered to date at other appointments and at the emergency room visit. It seems my left ventricle is the problem. That side of my heart has increased in size due to high blood pressure. As well, my liver is failing. I believe my notion that the water pill will do nothing to help with fluid building up in my lungs is probably correct. It was merely being used as a gateway drug to other and additional drugs to lower my blood pressure. The nurse then said the doctor had prescribed lisinopril. I, again, said that I could not take the medicine. I suggested they not send it. Already sent, I am told. Very well, may I bring it back, I ask? She says so long as the package is not opened, on my return visit, I may return it.
She then suggested she would consult with the doctor and call me back. I tried to stay awake longer but simply ran out of time. I just tried to call her back, having waken, and left a message with my particulars and phone number. Hopefully I will know more in a bit. At this time, I think, no medicine will probably help.
Further, I understand the severity of this. Since the blood pressure is seemingly untreatable, seeking medical attention for a heart attack or liver failure would merely prolong a very painful death. I am going to ask, if probably not receive, a pain killer for when it begins. I am not sure how much of a time frame to expect yet. They are scheduling more testing, but perhaps I can get something on that when the nurse calls back.
I have to figure some things out. I need to find a place for Sam and Sassy, I don't want to see them put down or left to the wilds. I need to get on some money issues, some money which is due me. And, yes, I would like to put my home in order. If I can't live orderly, I would at least like to offer a comfortable place to stay for those who show up to deal with this. I don't know how to give this kind of news to my mother.
There are some upsides, mind you. Now I know what is wrong, or probably. I will not be dealing with what the future is about to hold. And, if my single remembered near-death experience was at all accurate, I will be in a far better place. But even more, this life as a cripple (one even many doctors do not seem to believe or understand), humbling, frustrating, painful, and alone, can now be left behind. Odd as it might seem, I would still continue with it if there was a way. If nothing else can be said about me, that I went from not only not wanting to be alive and further attempted suicide in some ridiculous ways, to finally enjoying the simple nature of being alive. Alive without the window dressing of any personal importance, social or economic value, or even the love of a wife and family. That might be worth the pain suffered to get to this point.
I will know more soon. I hope.
Stuff is getting done.
.
.
Two or three more loads of laundry, depending on whether them being dried is counted or not. As well, I have been tinkering on the reloader. I am still not to a place where I can reload. I have all the dies set, I have the powder set, but the primers are giving me a fit. My "press" (reloader) has an automatic primer feed system. Loading .45 acp bullets, I initially used large primers. The machine was set up for that when it arrived, so there was no problem. The problem came when the particular batch of cases I decided to use needed small primers. I checked about that, and sure enough some .45 acp cases use small pistol primers, just the normal ones (there are also small pistol magnum primers, small rifle primers, and small rifle magnum primers, and a few others actually as well, just so you know).
All fine and dandy. I thought changing the feed tube and primer loading tray would be sufficient to see to small primers working. First, when trying to unload the large primers I ended up with 100 small 'splodey' things all over the floor. I tip-toed around that for a day. Being both tired, frazzled, and a little nervous (primers are the most dangerous component a loader deals with), those things sat for a day or so. I picked them up last night, finding all of them in due time. And, I read that this is often what happens, so changing out primer size with a full automatic priming system is not recommended.
In any case, I got the system set up for small primers, as I noted. I picked up a 100 small pistol primers in the pick-up tube. I then put that over the automatic primer system and delivered them to their proper place. I then cycled the press. I found myself with 100 more primers all over hell, the floor, on me, and in various places on my work bench! Damnit! I have only found about 90 of them, after extensive searches on and about my person, the machine, the bench, and another round of serious sweeping.
The manual indicates there might be a bolt to adjust but that doesn't make sense. It looks more like the tube within the automatic system does not properly hold small primers. Then again, I could be wrong. I could just call Dillon, the manufacturer. Not only do they make excellent equipment, my difficulties notwithstanding, they stand behind their equipment with very helpful technicians a mere phone call away. The thing is, I am getting ready to crash. Working up the gumption to call is one of the problems, the other is that I am not sure I could take or follow instructions until after I have some sleep. I hate it when my days and nights get all messed up. A call tomorrow, perhaps.
I think folding the load in the dryer and putting the last washer load in to dry should see me about ready for bed. I did note, while considering a number of things including whether to continue a friendship, that taking some time AND allowing some thought and proper input allow for better results. I am not sure how I made it to this age, as the brashness of youth (mine anyway) was incredible. Aging may be just about slowing down. But wisdom has potential when one chooses to capitalize on aging?
Good night.
.
Two or three more loads of laundry, depending on whether them being dried is counted or not. As well, I have been tinkering on the reloader. I am still not to a place where I can reload. I have all the dies set, I have the powder set, but the primers are giving me a fit. My "press" (reloader) has an automatic primer feed system. Loading .45 acp bullets, I initially used large primers. The machine was set up for that when it arrived, so there was no problem. The problem came when the particular batch of cases I decided to use needed small primers. I checked about that, and sure enough some .45 acp cases use small pistol primers, just the normal ones (there are also small pistol magnum primers, small rifle primers, and small rifle magnum primers, and a few others actually as well, just so you know).
All fine and dandy. I thought changing the feed tube and primer loading tray would be sufficient to see to small primers working. First, when trying to unload the large primers I ended up with 100 small 'splodey' things all over the floor. I tip-toed around that for a day. Being both tired, frazzled, and a little nervous (primers are the most dangerous component a loader deals with), those things sat for a day or so. I picked them up last night, finding all of them in due time. And, I read that this is often what happens, so changing out primer size with a full automatic priming system is not recommended.
In any case, I got the system set up for small primers, as I noted. I picked up a 100 small pistol primers in the pick-up tube. I then put that over the automatic primer system and delivered them to their proper place. I then cycled the press. I found myself with 100 more primers all over hell, the floor, on me, and in various places on my work bench! Damnit! I have only found about 90 of them, after extensive searches on and about my person, the machine, the bench, and another round of serious sweeping.
The manual indicates there might be a bolt to adjust but that doesn't make sense. It looks more like the tube within the automatic system does not properly hold small primers. Then again, I could be wrong. I could just call Dillon, the manufacturer. Not only do they make excellent equipment, my difficulties notwithstanding, they stand behind their equipment with very helpful technicians a mere phone call away. The thing is, I am getting ready to crash. Working up the gumption to call is one of the problems, the other is that I am not sure I could take or follow instructions until after I have some sleep. I hate it when my days and nights get all messed up. A call tomorrow, perhaps.
I think folding the load in the dryer and putting the last washer load in to dry should see me about ready for bed. I did note, while considering a number of things including whether to continue a friendship, that taking some time AND allowing some thought and proper input allow for better results. I am not sure how I made it to this age, as the brashness of youth (mine anyway) was incredible. Aging may be just about slowing down. But wisdom has potential when one chooses to capitalize on aging?
Good night.
What is rot?
.
.
Bane, there is a memory, got me started watching RedEye on FOX. I dither between absolutist prude and free-for-all libertine, a condition brought about by excesses and guilt while growing up and learning in a world that was pretty wide open to me. At one time, and to an extent even now, I know forbidden fruit is simple to pluck and luscious to consume, if there is a price and often many costs. How does one hold one's own nature at bay? The Church of course, and the bible, and the Triune to be sure. But one can't live in the Church, always be reading the bible, or think solely on God. The thing is, is RedEye rot, an observable manifestation of reality seeing both good and bad, or what?
I have considered this. Not just about the show. S. King's books, Shakespeare's plays, and even Tolkien's books have been examined as false or true, good or bad, rot or not. And more, what about manners? Are those societal impositions or a calming factor which lead to civil discourse and social continuity. Are manners a means of separating rich from poor through artificial means or a means of attempting to raise all to the table? No wonder I have no time to wash my bum, I'm thinking, pondering, debating, fighting over so many seemingly insignificant issues that finding time to pull my head out of the ether of "depth" while juggling things in life that I drop the egg to make a save by grabbing the bowling ball, losing potential for food, life, and renewal for some heavy mass of... what? And to what ends?
Still, I have come to a conclusion regarding RedEye. That it took me since several years before Bane's retirement to now to find it is simply a matter of how fast some things take. Usually, regardless of what some try to say, believe, or schedule, it takes as long as it takes. (Bane will never die... not quite... not so long as someone dreads or remembers in love, and then maybe not.) I have decided that RedEye, while flirting with rot, is actually rather good. It takes a human, non-preaching, approach to today's problems and does so with gusto and a grin. Something I need to take notes from, occasionally. It isn't so much that the show has a "good heart" or "good intentions" so much as the focus of the show is on highly variable voices and opinions without the usual political correctness, one side being dominant, or even a clarified position. People simply state their take and state it plainly. Right, wrong, indifferent, irreverent, but straight. So rare these days. The chuckles only help. We don't have a perfect world. We can't have one. Why not have shows which deal with that and the world as it is, honestly and humorously?
I am still a bit burned out. A few pain pills, some salad (finally got some and will probably eat it before it goes bad, but more because I don't have to cook it than anything), and some watching, thinking, and writing, and I might still get some things done. For whatever reason, I sense pressure or pain or something lifting, making me think I might be able to get back to some things on my lists. Maybe yet tonight. I can't sleep, so why not... if I can... just... break... free... Just a little more.
Later or good night.
.
Bane, there is a memory, got me started watching RedEye on FOX. I dither between absolutist prude and free-for-all libertine, a condition brought about by excesses and guilt while growing up and learning in a world that was pretty wide open to me. At one time, and to an extent even now, I know forbidden fruit is simple to pluck and luscious to consume, if there is a price and often many costs. How does one hold one's own nature at bay? The Church of course, and the bible, and the Triune to be sure. But one can't live in the Church, always be reading the bible, or think solely on God. The thing is, is RedEye rot, an observable manifestation of reality seeing both good and bad, or what?
I have considered this. Not just about the show. S. King's books, Shakespeare's plays, and even Tolkien's books have been examined as false or true, good or bad, rot or not. And more, what about manners? Are those societal impositions or a calming factor which lead to civil discourse and social continuity. Are manners a means of separating rich from poor through artificial means or a means of attempting to raise all to the table? No wonder I have no time to wash my bum, I'm thinking, pondering, debating, fighting over so many seemingly insignificant issues that finding time to pull my head out of the ether of "depth" while juggling things in life that I drop the egg to make a save by grabbing the bowling ball, losing potential for food, life, and renewal for some heavy mass of... what? And to what ends?
Still, I have come to a conclusion regarding RedEye. That it took me since several years before Bane's retirement to now to find it is simply a matter of how fast some things take. Usually, regardless of what some try to say, believe, or schedule, it takes as long as it takes. (Bane will never die... not quite... not so long as someone dreads or remembers in love, and then maybe not.) I have decided that RedEye, while flirting with rot, is actually rather good. It takes a human, non-preaching, approach to today's problems and does so with gusto and a grin. Something I need to take notes from, occasionally. It isn't so much that the show has a "good heart" or "good intentions" so much as the focus of the show is on highly variable voices and opinions without the usual political correctness, one side being dominant, or even a clarified position. People simply state their take and state it plainly. Right, wrong, indifferent, irreverent, but straight. So rare these days. The chuckles only help. We don't have a perfect world. We can't have one. Why not have shows which deal with that and the world as it is, honestly and humorously?
I am still a bit burned out. A few pain pills, some salad (finally got some and will probably eat it before it goes bad, but more because I don't have to cook it than anything), and some watching, thinking, and writing, and I might still get some things done. For whatever reason, I sense pressure or pain or something lifting, making me think I might be able to get back to some things on my lists. Maybe yet tonight. I can't sleep, so why not... if I can... just... break... free... Just a little more.
Later or good night.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Life is a peach.
.
.
Rotted and with a worm in it on some days, fresh ripe and ready for cream as soon as the next day as well. Today life was a fresh ripe peach... with a worm in it.
I did, barely, make it to my appointment on time. I recognized the nurse. She's a cutey pie. About my age, give or take. She had a pony tail today, I think I surprised her by noting her hair difference. It has been a year since I saw her last, or more. No, no more than genial flirtation was in mind, mind you, and even that quite of a friendly nature. She is pretty, and married.
My blood pressure was somewhere between 173/133 and 168/127. No antibiotics were offered as the lung problem, while fluid, does not also seem to be fluid of an infected nature. Why they didn't say that at the ER (more clearly) I do not know. I was led to believe, at the ER, that they simply were not sure what was wrong and that infection might still be a diagnosis. I cannot remember what was suggested as the diagnosis, but the water pill was believed to be the answer. And, since I have been taking that regularly, they are thinking of adding to that dose. The nurse I saw today will call tomorrow with results from the blood draw and I will ask for the diagnosis again, with a pen and paper ready. I am pretty sure if the heart was a problem they would have been harping on that everywhere and always trying to beat the drum to take the medicine they know I can't take. It was something like non-pulmonary edema, though that sounds vague, too vague.
I have decided to not cut off my friendship. Why? *shrug* Just as soon as I think I should do something I listen to some monk and he says... something about the gain being greater than the loss. Further, despite my warrior and animal instincts, I know him to be right. Not that I will not watch my stuff a lot more carefully, not that I just accept, but that this is the price of being more than just an animal. Why oh why do I listen to the Catholic channel (when not blasting heavy metal)? Why, because if I don't I won't hear what I need to hear. That's why. So, I will call my friend and explain that I got too late a start today to pick him up (which is also quite true). And then I will offer to take him to Ogden later this week, when his schedule is clear. No sour grapes, no relenting on my craving for justice, merely an understanding of mercy and a realization of gain that far exceeds material loss. Even if I am going to lose my reputation as a rat bastard. *sigh*
Well, on to... something. I slept as soon as I returned home. I slept well and solidly. I needed that sleep, I was choking on exhaustion up and back though I did stop for groceries on my way home. The cats are pleased. A few days without milk and papa is in the dog house! Now, to finish that stupid reloading station and get it working, do some laundry, and finish the dishes. Doh! I forgot bread!
Blessings. And, later or good night.
.
Rotted and with a worm in it on some days, fresh ripe and ready for cream as soon as the next day as well. Today life was a fresh ripe peach... with a worm in it.
I did, barely, make it to my appointment on time. I recognized the nurse. She's a cutey pie. About my age, give or take. She had a pony tail today, I think I surprised her by noting her hair difference. It has been a year since I saw her last, or more. No, no more than genial flirtation was in mind, mind you, and even that quite of a friendly nature. She is pretty, and married.
My blood pressure was somewhere between 173/133 and 168/127. No antibiotics were offered as the lung problem, while fluid, does not also seem to be fluid of an infected nature. Why they didn't say that at the ER (more clearly) I do not know. I was led to believe, at the ER, that they simply were not sure what was wrong and that infection might still be a diagnosis. I cannot remember what was suggested as the diagnosis, but the water pill was believed to be the answer. And, since I have been taking that regularly, they are thinking of adding to that dose. The nurse I saw today will call tomorrow with results from the blood draw and I will ask for the diagnosis again, with a pen and paper ready. I am pretty sure if the heart was a problem they would have been harping on that everywhere and always trying to beat the drum to take the medicine they know I can't take. It was something like non-pulmonary edema, though that sounds vague, too vague.
I have decided to not cut off my friendship. Why? *shrug* Just as soon as I think I should do something I listen to some monk and he says... something about the gain being greater than the loss. Further, despite my warrior and animal instincts, I know him to be right. Not that I will not watch my stuff a lot more carefully, not that I just accept, but that this is the price of being more than just an animal. Why oh why do I listen to the Catholic channel (when not blasting heavy metal)? Why, because if I don't I won't hear what I need to hear. That's why. So, I will call my friend and explain that I got too late a start today to pick him up (which is also quite true). And then I will offer to take him to Ogden later this week, when his schedule is clear. No sour grapes, no relenting on my craving for justice, merely an understanding of mercy and a realization of gain that far exceeds material loss. Even if I am going to lose my reputation as a rat bastard. *sigh*
Well, on to... something. I slept as soon as I returned home. I slept well and solidly. I needed that sleep, I was choking on exhaustion up and back though I did stop for groceries on my way home. The cats are pleased. A few days without milk and papa is in the dog house! Now, to finish that stupid reloading station and get it working, do some laundry, and finish the dishes. Doh! I forgot bread!
Blessings. And, later or good night.
Back into the grinder.
.
.
I tried to sleep starting at around 22:00 last night. I simply could not get comfortable. My lungs are filling again. There just doesn't seem to be an end in sight. Like the cold, snow, and now rain with the weather, I seem as stuck in sickness. I am going to be awake to get to my appointment today and may simply ask for another antibiotic treatment. While this one almost seemed like it was going to work, the day after I finished taking the medicine I am back to nearly as bad as I have ever been.
I did a few loads of laundry, the last will be ready for the dryer shortly. I did cook last night as well. A little beef tongue. I probably won't have beef tongue again. It was more expensive than I had thought at a bit over $4 a pound. I bought it, initially, thinking it was an inexpensive meat to try. No, I actually hadn't looked at the price until I checked the package this last time, and then only when I was taking it out to thaw. But more than that, it is not my favorite. I will buy some bread, along with other grocery needs, if I can and can remember on my way back from the appointment. Either tongue or heart made excellent cold cuts. If it is tongue, I may continue to have it rarely. But I think it was beef heart that was so good.
It is going to be a tough day though. No sleep, exhaustion from having to force breathing, and a general ache from lungs that sometimes fill fairly heavily and press on my rib cage to produce a unique pain which vaguely resembles the pain from fights past... the ones that went more than the first round or involved more than one opponent. heh Getting hit in the chest was far superior to being hit in the face, as I remember things. And there were worse places still. Though I have a hard head, I have heard long after fights that people who punched me in the face said it was like punching an engine block. *grins* Ah the days. I hated them, but such are memories. Sweet somehow just for the remembering.
My home is a mess. Between rearranging some things to allow the washing machine delivery, to still fiddling with the reloader, to being sick and in a down swing, I really haven't been able to keep up appearances. As I complete the laundry, put the reloader into action, and maybe improve in breathing before long, I will figure out how to improve my living conditions.
Have a good day.
.
I tried to sleep starting at around 22:00 last night. I simply could not get comfortable. My lungs are filling again. There just doesn't seem to be an end in sight. Like the cold, snow, and now rain with the weather, I seem as stuck in sickness. I am going to be awake to get to my appointment today and may simply ask for another antibiotic treatment. While this one almost seemed like it was going to work, the day after I finished taking the medicine I am back to nearly as bad as I have ever been.
I did a few loads of laundry, the last will be ready for the dryer shortly. I did cook last night as well. A little beef tongue. I probably won't have beef tongue again. It was more expensive than I had thought at a bit over $4 a pound. I bought it, initially, thinking it was an inexpensive meat to try. No, I actually hadn't looked at the price until I checked the package this last time, and then only when I was taking it out to thaw. But more than that, it is not my favorite. I will buy some bread, along with other grocery needs, if I can and can remember on my way back from the appointment. Either tongue or heart made excellent cold cuts. If it is tongue, I may continue to have it rarely. But I think it was beef heart that was so good.
It is going to be a tough day though. No sleep, exhaustion from having to force breathing, and a general ache from lungs that sometimes fill fairly heavily and press on my rib cage to produce a unique pain which vaguely resembles the pain from fights past... the ones that went more than the first round or involved more than one opponent. heh Getting hit in the chest was far superior to being hit in the face, as I remember things. And there were worse places still. Though I have a hard head, I have heard long after fights that people who punched me in the face said it was like punching an engine block. *grins* Ah the days. I hated them, but such are memories. Sweet somehow just for the remembering.
My home is a mess. Between rearranging some things to allow the washing machine delivery, to still fiddling with the reloader, to being sick and in a down swing, I really haven't been able to keep up appearances. As I complete the laundry, put the reloader into action, and maybe improve in breathing before long, I will figure out how to improve my living conditions.
Have a good day.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Wonderful.
.
.
I woke late. My mother had already called. I heard the phone but my graphical interface and geometric structure recognition subroutines were down so the ringing was just a displaced if recognizable noise. When I woke I then found out who had called. Still a bit fuzzy in the gray matter region, I waited to wake a bit. Finally, the call. She just enjoyed the call, and with my brother having called earlier, she knew her cubs are fine and still care. All good.
We talked for a goodly bit. She had a nice meal earlier, if too she cooked it. Of course, she prefers to cook and tend these things, mostly. She was with friends and family there and shared the day. That was good to know. You would know though, that I woke her from a nap. She seemed pleased to hear from me anyway.
Sleep, again. A long deep sleep was had last night, or actually through the morning. Days and nights are messed up again, which will make getting to the appointment tomorrow a bit of a challenge. Two nights of good solid sleep have been super, but I am still a bit behind in the sleep department from weeks of intermittent nap type sleeping. My lungs were a bit fuller this morning than yesterday morning, but still better than they have been for weeks. I took the last antibiotic today. If not better by Wednesday, another treatment will be requested. Sleep is so delicious. I dreamed too, but I don't remember a thing.
I am hoping to have the energy to finally get to laundry and dishes today. It has been tough with a few ongoing projects and when breathing can become complicated by simply getting out of a chair or off the couch. As out of shape as I am, and have been for decades, I have never had a breath problem. Nearly jogging around the V.A. hospital in SLC, going up four flights (I don't use the elevator if I can find the steps and now I know where those are in that place), going up and down flights to different appointments, even walking the half a mile to the diner they have and at my usual double pace, has never caused me so much as a flush or more than a quick pant when I finished my excursion. So this bit about being constantly out of breath is a pain.
I found some cases that I know were mine. I checked them closely. While there are some minor nicks, or scrapes in about a fifth of them, they weren't heavily damage. I also rechecked the cases I was going to toss and found many which I seem to have tossed as much out of frustration and in anger from my initial inspection. I have more cases than what I initially thought from that first run. Still, I am missing... 600 cases (much more actually). In the end, I have about 400 cases, perhaps 250 of those are useful. Without proof of theft, however, I think it is better to just stop answering my friend's calls and disappear. Anything else leaves room for debate and there is no room. That is just the way it goes, I guess. I wonder if anything else is missing though. I am sure I will find out soon enough.
Tomorrow they will be checking potassium and who knows what else. The last time I was in my new doctor at the clinic threatened to stop seeing me if I refused to take his version of high blood pressure medicines. At which point I grabbed my coat and headed for the door. He got a stunned, shocked, look on his face. He then stopped me and... restarted the conversation about the infection. I suppose, after the infection is taken care of, I will have to use the ER for medical care as I will not have a doctor and none will take my case (or for long). Yeah, I didn't tell you that then. Fine, as long as I can breath, I don't really care.
A bit of blog reading, a little goofing, and perhaps I can get busy on some of the things I am hoping to do. It is cool and raining. Turning the furnace up might help a bit. Maybe a shower and some fresh clean clothes too! A month without a washing machine and a stubborn refusal to spend another dime at laundromats has left me with... piles of dirty clothes, towels, and linens of all sorts, and few clean clothes. So nice to have a machine again, and a fine one! On sale, mind you, and with a rebate as well. I ought to get right on that mail-in rebate thing.
Have a great day. Happy Mother's day out there to all you ladies. I hope you have a wonderful one, fine memories, and children who have come to their senses should they have lost them and remehttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifmber to call you and thank you. As mothers, you are what binds young and old. I doubt if you can understand, nor anyone. But... Thank you!
.
I woke late. My mother had already called. I heard the phone but my graphical interface and geometric structure recognition subroutines were down so the ringing was just a displaced if recognizable noise. When I woke I then found out who had called. Still a bit fuzzy in the gray matter region, I waited to wake a bit. Finally, the call. She just enjoyed the call, and with my brother having called earlier, she knew her cubs are fine and still care. All good.
We talked for a goodly bit. She had a nice meal earlier, if too she cooked it. Of course, she prefers to cook and tend these things, mostly. She was with friends and family there and shared the day. That was good to know. You would know though, that I woke her from a nap. She seemed pleased to hear from me anyway.
Sleep, again. A long deep sleep was had last night, or actually through the morning. Days and nights are messed up again, which will make getting to the appointment tomorrow a bit of a challenge. Two nights of good solid sleep have been super, but I am still a bit behind in the sleep department from weeks of intermittent nap type sleeping. My lungs were a bit fuller this morning than yesterday morning, but still better than they have been for weeks. I took the last antibiotic today. If not better by Wednesday, another treatment will be requested. Sleep is so delicious. I dreamed too, but I don't remember a thing.
I am hoping to have the energy to finally get to laundry and dishes today. It has been tough with a few ongoing projects and when breathing can become complicated by simply getting out of a chair or off the couch. As out of shape as I am, and have been for decades, I have never had a breath problem. Nearly jogging around the V.A. hospital in SLC, going up four flights (I don't use the elevator if I can find the steps and now I know where those are in that place), going up and down flights to different appointments, even walking the half a mile to the diner they have and at my usual double pace, has never caused me so much as a flush or more than a quick pant when I finished my excursion. So this bit about being constantly out of breath is a pain.
I found some cases that I know were mine. I checked them closely. While there are some minor nicks, or scrapes in about a fifth of them, they weren't heavily damage. I also rechecked the cases I was going to toss and found many which I seem to have tossed as much out of frustration and in anger from my initial inspection. I have more cases than what I initially thought from that first run. Still, I am missing... 600 cases (much more actually). In the end, I have about 400 cases, perhaps 250 of those are useful. Without proof of theft, however, I think it is better to just stop answering my friend's calls and disappear. Anything else leaves room for debate and there is no room. That is just the way it goes, I guess. I wonder if anything else is missing though. I am sure I will find out soon enough.
Tomorrow they will be checking potassium and who knows what else. The last time I was in my new doctor at the clinic threatened to stop seeing me if I refused to take his version of high blood pressure medicines. At which point I grabbed my coat and headed for the door. He got a stunned, shocked, look on his face. He then stopped me and... restarted the conversation about the infection. I suppose, after the infection is taken care of, I will have to use the ER for medical care as I will not have a doctor and none will take my case (or for long). Yeah, I didn't tell you that then. Fine, as long as I can breath, I don't really care.
A bit of blog reading, a little goofing, and perhaps I can get busy on some of the things I am hoping to do. It is cool and raining. Turning the furnace up might help a bit. Maybe a shower and some fresh clean clothes too! A month without a washing machine and a stubborn refusal to spend another dime at laundromats has left me with... piles of dirty clothes, towels, and linens of all sorts, and few clean clothes. So nice to have a machine again, and a fine one! On sale, mind you, and with a rebate as well. I ought to get right on that mail-in rebate thing.
Have a great day. Happy Mother's day out there to all you ladies. I hope you have a wonderful one, fine memories, and children who have come to their senses should they have lost them and remehttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifmber to call you and thank you. As mothers, you are what binds young and old. I doubt if you can understand, nor anyone. But... Thank you!
A funny thing.
.
.
I have read, for perhaps the 5th time in the last few days, about how to "get mom wired", or "what tech gadgets mom would love", or other such things. Oh, sure, my mom has a laptop and cellphone. But she would be as interested in a tech gadget or another way to communicate as much as Sam likes baths. To clarify, Sam is darned near dangerous when her, water, and me all get within about seven feet of the water. She becomes increasingly dangerous to the point where I no longer try to make that unholy threesome work the closer we get to water. No, nothing high tech. The highest tech she would appreciate is a phone call or a card. Mostly what she wants is even lower tech, back to man's roots.
I am sure there are many women out there who want the next I-Pad, "smart" phone, or tech service. Assuming, usually, that someone else sets it up. Oh, I am sure too, there are a few women who have been shown enough times that they can almost set devices up, at least enough to do what they want and disregarding security, not including dealing with tech troubles, or assuming they have an engineering degree (even then I have doubts). But do these women want tech gadgets over cards, candy, jewelry, and money? Who knows, perhaps I have lost track of all this. If it is true, it is a sad time to live.
If my mother has her problems, it is nice to know she is just a woman in this regard. The card, as usual, will be late. I have known far enough ahead to buy a card but I have been too ill to get to all that I wanted done (it was on time last year, I think). A little money will go as well. Late as well, of course. Then again, is money ever late if it is only a week off and a surprise gift? A phone call, too, will be issued, but on time. And statements of familial gratitude and soft mushy stuff I haven't liked since third grade will be spewed, like the poetry I was required to memorize and spew in front of class. Even if I liked, or loved, the teacher, this was and remains a test of my nerves. Still, that it bothers me to do and that I do it anyway beats any other thing I could give or say. No card says it as well because of the clumsiness of my spewing. No money is as good as a near grovel toward duty, so indirectly to her. Nope, being a foolish man/boy for the sake of her ego gets it every time. Plus, it saves me $300 to $700 on some laptop or something. hahaha
Now good night.
.
I have read, for perhaps the 5th time in the last few days, about how to "get mom wired", or "what tech gadgets mom would love", or other such things. Oh, sure, my mom has a laptop and cellphone. But she would be as interested in a tech gadget or another way to communicate as much as Sam likes baths. To clarify, Sam is darned near dangerous when her, water, and me all get within about seven feet of the water. She becomes increasingly dangerous to the point where I no longer try to make that unholy threesome work the closer we get to water. No, nothing high tech. The highest tech she would appreciate is a phone call or a card. Mostly what she wants is even lower tech, back to man's roots.
I am sure there are many women out there who want the next I-Pad, "smart" phone, or tech service. Assuming, usually, that someone else sets it up. Oh, I am sure too, there are a few women who have been shown enough times that they can almost set devices up, at least enough to do what they want and disregarding security, not including dealing with tech troubles, or assuming they have an engineering degree (even then I have doubts). But do these women want tech gadgets over cards, candy, jewelry, and money? Who knows, perhaps I have lost track of all this. If it is true, it is a sad time to live.
If my mother has her problems, it is nice to know she is just a woman in this regard. The card, as usual, will be late. I have known far enough ahead to buy a card but I have been too ill to get to all that I wanted done (it was on time last year, I think). A little money will go as well. Late as well, of course. Then again, is money ever late if it is only a week off and a surprise gift? A phone call, too, will be issued, but on time. And statements of familial gratitude and soft mushy stuff I haven't liked since third grade will be spewed, like the poetry I was required to memorize and spew in front of class. Even if I liked, or loved, the teacher, this was and remains a test of my nerves. Still, that it bothers me to do and that I do it anyway beats any other thing I could give or say. No card says it as well because of the clumsiness of my spewing. No money is as good as a near grovel toward duty, so indirectly to her. Nope, being a foolish man/boy for the sake of her ego gets it every time. Plus, it saves me $300 to $700 on some laptop or something. hahaha
Now good night.
Mad as can be.
.
.
I am going shooting tomorrow before deciding on what to do next. Of the 150 cases I put through the tumbler less than 20 are useful. The rest have medium to severe cuts on the side, enough to make me question the integrity of the case. I am 99% sure my pistol does not do that. The only way I can know is to go out and put a box of new brass through my pistol and pick up the rounds. Even before cleaning them, I will know. I know his pistol has lots of problems. He has tinkered with it until it bites the end of a third of the cases his gun ejects, and I am now guessing it bites lower down on most of the rest. These aren't little dings, these are horizontal cuts that go a fifth the way through the case and are often dented a similar depth and several milometers surrounding the cut in a circular pattern.
If I find that my pistol doesn't ding the cases, I will end my friendship. Sure, 1,000 cases at $23 per hundred minimally is some serious cash, especially now, for me at least (though there is a lot more brass than that missing, but for argument sake...). But that is not the issue, or the main issue. If I cannot trust a man I shoot with not to change the case collection bags, what else can't I trust him regarding? I have been his wheels, I have given him Christmas gifts, I have paid for his dinners from time to time, and I have asked for nothing in return. Simply, I knew he didn't have as much cash to spend. Seriously, I hope $230 to $500 in once-used cases was worth it.
It could be that my pistol is nicking the round when ejecting. I doubt it. The only way to know, however, is to get out and find out. If my pistol doesn't, the next thing I will have to do is change the locks and add some locks in a few places. He has a checkered past, one which I thought he was through with. If not, then he is someone not to be trusted to a reactive level. He knows what I have, and if he is stealing, ending our friendship will make him angry. As with most liberals who think it's everyone else's fault that they get in trouble for doing bad things, he will hold a grudge. If it is my pistol, the next thing will be to get it to a shop. It's would have to be in bad shape.
If it turns out that he was stealing, I will call him and tell him he isn't going to Ogden with me, and I won't be visiting anymore. I will suggest he not call or wave on the street. If he starts rumors I will put out why we are no longer friends and ask him who he thinks people will believe. I almost hope my pistol puts a ding on the cases. But I don't think it will. Yeah, I'm hot.
I have another load going through the tumbler, a group that looks better. Sometimes the way I put my cases into the vehicle, he couldn't reach over and exchange them or didn't get the opportunity. Hmm, I might have to consider installing cameras with a local and remote record hookup. Really, if he is still what he was, he needs to be checked, or in jail.
Good night.
.
I am going shooting tomorrow before deciding on what to do next. Of the 150 cases I put through the tumbler less than 20 are useful. The rest have medium to severe cuts on the side, enough to make me question the integrity of the case. I am 99% sure my pistol does not do that. The only way I can know is to go out and put a box of new brass through my pistol and pick up the rounds. Even before cleaning them, I will know. I know his pistol has lots of problems. He has tinkered with it until it bites the end of a third of the cases his gun ejects, and I am now guessing it bites lower down on most of the rest. These aren't little dings, these are horizontal cuts that go a fifth the way through the case and are often dented a similar depth and several milometers surrounding the cut in a circular pattern.
If I find that my pistol doesn't ding the cases, I will end my friendship. Sure, 1,000 cases at $23 per hundred minimally is some serious cash, especially now, for me at least (though there is a lot more brass than that missing, but for argument sake...). But that is not the issue, or the main issue. If I cannot trust a man I shoot with not to change the case collection bags, what else can't I trust him regarding? I have been his wheels, I have given him Christmas gifts, I have paid for his dinners from time to time, and I have asked for nothing in return. Simply, I knew he didn't have as much cash to spend. Seriously, I hope $230 to $500 in once-used cases was worth it.
It could be that my pistol is nicking the round when ejecting. I doubt it. The only way to know, however, is to get out and find out. If my pistol doesn't, the next thing I will have to do is change the locks and add some locks in a few places. He has a checkered past, one which I thought he was through with. If not, then he is someone not to be trusted to a reactive level. He knows what I have, and if he is stealing, ending our friendship will make him angry. As with most liberals who think it's everyone else's fault that they get in trouble for doing bad things, he will hold a grudge. If it is my pistol, the next thing will be to get it to a shop. It's would have to be in bad shape.
If it turns out that he was stealing, I will call him and tell him he isn't going to Ogden with me, and I won't be visiting anymore. I will suggest he not call or wave on the street. If he starts rumors I will put out why we are no longer friends and ask him who he thinks people will believe. I almost hope my pistol puts a ding on the cases. But I don't think it will. Yeah, I'm hot.
I have another load going through the tumbler, a group that looks better. Sometimes the way I put my cases into the vehicle, he couldn't reach over and exchange them or didn't get the opportunity. Hmm, I might have to consider installing cameras with a local and remote record hookup. Really, if he is still what he was, he needs to be checked, or in jail.
Good night.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Not bad.
.
.
Breathing has improved to what it was about a week ago. I still run out of breath with little effort but I am not needing to force breathing and my breath is not as shallow. The sleep I was able to get and waking up without my lungs full to my throat seemingly, was also a good sign. Plus, being able to sleep flat was extremely good. I don't know if it helped, but since I had a headache I took a dose of Tylenol before bed last night. I am not sure how it could have helped, actually. Then again, how anything really works is probably not something that can be thought out. Not even doctors know why this or that works or doesn't, or even how as with my reactions to functional blood pressure medicine. Though that really isn't their job. Their job is to come up with some sort of diagnosis, run testing to admit or deny a diagnosis, while treating the most common disease(s) which might cause the symptoms, hoping as much as anything that the symptoms will go away on their own.
I did get out shooting today. It had become partly cloudy, and sprinkled on the way to the range. When I arrived, however, the sky water quit. I also took my friend along. On the way back I showed him my reloader. He was able to help set up a couple of the dies more surely. I fitted a couple more parts together, things I saw on the DVD. If I had not mentioned, the DVD ended up being a visual instruction guide for my specific reloader.
I also mentioned to my friend that much of my "brass" (spent casings) were missing. What I found when searching for my "brass" were very few cases and most of them old casings. While I only used and kept fresh brass from new ammunition, and a thousand or more. No one would have broken into my house and stolen brass while leaving guns, other gear tools and equipment, among other things. There is only one who knows or has access. I will have to keep a much closer eye on things and watch other stuff. If I catch who steals, there will be trouble. That is all I am saying on that. There are also a few other things missing, as I am setting things up. Things I know I had when I moved in. Trouble indeed.
Dinner out and then back home. I took potassium since I was still full and another dose of antibiotic. A few more days of that junk and I will be done. If it isn't working by Wednesday, a few days after I have finished this, I will call in for another type of antibiotic. I simply can't afford to goof with this. Even if it is knocked down some more, if it remains in part, I have to hit it again. And again, and again, and again if need be.
I have decided, as soon as my lungs clear up a bit, I am going to set up my weight lifting bench and see what I can do. That along with working on climbing when the weather allows it will see me to better shape. Perhaps by the time the water at the pond warms up enough to swim, I can begin that too. Who knows, but that is what I have been thinking.
I am going to get my scales working and set the powder charger in the press to begin making bullets. The cases in the tumbler need more work. I will use the walnut medium this time, which is for heavier work. Two hours in corncob medium did a little to bring the luster back but not enough. I am hoping, having had some work though, that an hour in the tumbler with a stronger medium will shine the brass. If so, I might be able to load a box or two tonight. Damn I hate thieves though. I really do.
Later or good night.
.
Breathing has improved to what it was about a week ago. I still run out of breath with little effort but I am not needing to force breathing and my breath is not as shallow. The sleep I was able to get and waking up without my lungs full to my throat seemingly, was also a good sign. Plus, being able to sleep flat was extremely good. I don't know if it helped, but since I had a headache I took a dose of Tylenol before bed last night. I am not sure how it could have helped, actually. Then again, how anything really works is probably not something that can be thought out. Not even doctors know why this or that works or doesn't, or even how as with my reactions to functional blood pressure medicine. Though that really isn't their job. Their job is to come up with some sort of diagnosis, run testing to admit or deny a diagnosis, while treating the most common disease(s) which might cause the symptoms, hoping as much as anything that the symptoms will go away on their own.
I did get out shooting today. It had become partly cloudy, and sprinkled on the way to the range. When I arrived, however, the sky water quit. I also took my friend along. On the way back I showed him my reloader. He was able to help set up a couple of the dies more surely. I fitted a couple more parts together, things I saw on the DVD. If I had not mentioned, the DVD ended up being a visual instruction guide for my specific reloader.
I also mentioned to my friend that much of my "brass" (spent casings) were missing. What I found when searching for my "brass" were very few cases and most of them old casings. While I only used and kept fresh brass from new ammunition, and a thousand or more. No one would have broken into my house and stolen brass while leaving guns, other gear tools and equipment, among other things. There is only one who knows or has access. I will have to keep a much closer eye on things and watch other stuff. If I catch who steals, there will be trouble. That is all I am saying on that. There are also a few other things missing, as I am setting things up. Things I know I had when I moved in. Trouble indeed.
Dinner out and then back home. I took potassium since I was still full and another dose of antibiotic. A few more days of that junk and I will be done. If it isn't working by Wednesday, a few days after I have finished this, I will call in for another type of antibiotic. I simply can't afford to goof with this. Even if it is knocked down some more, if it remains in part, I have to hit it again. And again, and again, and again if need be.
I have decided, as soon as my lungs clear up a bit, I am going to set up my weight lifting bench and see what I can do. That along with working on climbing when the weather allows it will see me to better shape. Perhaps by the time the water at the pond warms up enough to swim, I can begin that too. Who knows, but that is what I have been thinking.
I am going to get my scales working and set the powder charger in the press to begin making bullets. The cases in the tumbler need more work. I will use the walnut medium this time, which is for heavier work. Two hours in corncob medium did a little to bring the luster back but not enough. I am hoping, having had some work though, that an hour in the tumbler with a stronger medium will shine the brass. If so, I might be able to load a box or two tonight. Damn I hate thieves though. I really do.
Later or good night.
Sleep!
.
.
I was exhausted, not really having gotten sleep, solid long deep sleep, for some time. The chair and reclining on cushions before that were not cutting it. And yet flatter sleeping was often painful to impossible. This morning, however, whether because I was simply too tired to be fussy or because I am getting better, I was able to sleep long and deep and flat (on my side, but without cushions or the chair)! I did not wake choking for breath. My ribs are not sore. If not fully refreshed, I know the sleep was good and my only problem is that I have days of poor sleep and possibly effects of illness making me a bit groggy.
I am about to shower and go shooting. Then work on my reloader. I need some real food today, and eating out is the only way. Nothing fancy. A large meal at McDonald costs well under a ten spot and is filling. Not having eaten in the last two days, as well, I need the high calories and fat. Another night of sleep like this and I think I will be able to get to the laundry and dishes and other things that are vexing me.
Keep your chin up! (I may need to sucker punch you.) Good day.
.
I was exhausted, not really having gotten sleep, solid long deep sleep, for some time. The chair and reclining on cushions before that were not cutting it. And yet flatter sleeping was often painful to impossible. This morning, however, whether because I was simply too tired to be fussy or because I am getting better, I was able to sleep long and deep and flat (on my side, but without cushions or the chair)! I did not wake choking for breath. My ribs are not sore. If not fully refreshed, I know the sleep was good and my only problem is that I have days of poor sleep and possibly effects of illness making me a bit groggy.
I am about to shower and go shooting. Then work on my reloader. I need some real food today, and eating out is the only way. Nothing fancy. A large meal at McDonald costs well under a ten spot and is filling. Not having eaten in the last two days, as well, I need the high calories and fat. Another night of sleep like this and I think I will be able to get to the laundry and dishes and other things that are vexing me.
Keep your chin up! (I may need to sucker punch you.) Good day.
Rest.
.
.
The chair helps. It allowed me to rest for many hours and I needed what I got. It does not allow for sleep. Reclining and covering over with a footstool for my legs provides a split between discomfort and sleep versus comfort but instability and so only light resting. I doubt if anything will be done today, tonight really. Simply put, between not sleeping properly and not breathing well, my concentration and will are simply too weak.
If I do not learn how to sleep in the chair, I will have to call the sleep center. The requirement is a minimum of four to six hours of uninterrupted sleep and three days in a row. I doubt if I can pull off two hours of sleep as is. Over a twelve hour period I am "waking" completely unfit, sleeping only three to four hours over that whole period, an hour or so at a time. Perhaps by the time the test equipment arrives I will have learned how to sleep in the chair or the antibiotic will have relieved some of the difficulty.
Even though I seem to be getting plenty of oxygen into my system, according to several different types of tests, my lungs often burn, I have to force breathing, and my chest hurts and is full. I actually have excellent lung capacity, thankfully. So even when they are half filled with fluid I can still get plenty of oxygen. But breathing enough to get that, on top of the fluid and normal mass in there, is pushing on my ribs I think. More so when I lay down or recline in the chair. I sure hope they figure this out soon. I shouldn't have waited a couple of months to go in. At least I didn't wait a year like an old friend. Usually this stuff clears up on it's own and I am not always in a state of mind to realize I might be in more serious trouble healthwise. Oh well.
A bit of goofing, maybe some dishes, perhaps tinkering on the reloader, but no promises. Whatever I can focus on will get my attention. Whatever doesn't make breathing more difficult too. A few more hours doing something and then I will try to rest, sleep if I can, until I try and get something going tomorrow. I can't believe this illness. Then again, as I get older, our nation is overwhelmed by illegal aliens carrying sicknesses we had removed, and people who do not take their full doses of antibiotics, this is what we get. Antibiotics are the only medicine I absolutely take. It does weird things to the body, by the way. A burning loose bm the least favorite so far. Anyway, on to... something. Barring an ability to connect with something I will turn in.
Good night.
.
The chair helps. It allowed me to rest for many hours and I needed what I got. It does not allow for sleep. Reclining and covering over with a footstool for my legs provides a split between discomfort and sleep versus comfort but instability and so only light resting. I doubt if anything will be done today, tonight really. Simply put, between not sleeping properly and not breathing well, my concentration and will are simply too weak.
If I do not learn how to sleep in the chair, I will have to call the sleep center. The requirement is a minimum of four to six hours of uninterrupted sleep and three days in a row. I doubt if I can pull off two hours of sleep as is. Over a twelve hour period I am "waking" completely unfit, sleeping only three to four hours over that whole period, an hour or so at a time. Perhaps by the time the test equipment arrives I will have learned how to sleep in the chair or the antibiotic will have relieved some of the difficulty.
Even though I seem to be getting plenty of oxygen into my system, according to several different types of tests, my lungs often burn, I have to force breathing, and my chest hurts and is full. I actually have excellent lung capacity, thankfully. So even when they are half filled with fluid I can still get plenty of oxygen. But breathing enough to get that, on top of the fluid and normal mass in there, is pushing on my ribs I think. More so when I lay down or recline in the chair. I sure hope they figure this out soon. I shouldn't have waited a couple of months to go in. At least I didn't wait a year like an old friend. Usually this stuff clears up on it's own and I am not always in a state of mind to realize I might be in more serious trouble healthwise. Oh well.
A bit of goofing, maybe some dishes, perhaps tinkering on the reloader, but no promises. Whatever I can focus on will get my attention. Whatever doesn't make breathing more difficult too. A few more hours doing something and then I will try to rest, sleep if I can, until I try and get something going tomorrow. I can't believe this illness. Then again, as I get older, our nation is overwhelmed by illegal aliens carrying sicknesses we had removed, and people who do not take their full doses of antibiotics, this is what we get. Antibiotics are the only medicine I absolutely take. It does weird things to the body, by the way. A burning loose bm the least favorite so far. Anyway, on to... something. Barring an ability to connect with something I will turn in.
Good night.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Too much!
.
.
I struggled to sleep, as I usually do. I tried to use bigger couch pillows and my regular pillows to create an incline upon which to sleep. While it did allow me to breath easier, it was difficult to keep the support correct as I am a roller. I suppose weighing in at 270 doesn't help. Sleep has become more like catnaps between readjustments. Further, after finally settling in, the washing machine delivery people came at 7:30 or so, after having been up late opening access to the wash area and setting up the reloader. I tried to sleep after that, but with no more real success than before. Tonight I am going to try and sleep on a reclining chair with a footstool brought up for comfort.
I received dozens of calls all through the day to boot, it seemed. I tried to answer once, but did not reach the phone in time. Half asleep, half awake, in significant discomfort, trying to maintain balance on a raised sleeping platform, trying in all those states and ways to suck in enough air, I let the rest of the calls go to the answering service the time or two I thought I might have had a chance at answering. But that constant ringing simply made trying to sleep even more miserable. It seemed like the phone was constantly ringing, some in truth, some in dream-like echoes. Retched.
The V.A. called at least three times, and another call from their Vocational Rehabilitation. The other calls I am not sure about. Checking messages found other calls, some of which were merely baffling. I am in no condition to do any follow up. I did actually get a call from them, after I was finally awake. I will be doing a three day in-home sleep test starting next Wednesday. I hope I have found a way to sleep better by then, as the requirement is four to six hours of sleep for the test to be valid. At this point I am doing good to get a few hours in before something goes wrong or I have to fight my way awake to get air.
I did a first load of laundry in the machine today. Before I tried to go back to sleep, I wanted to do that. This washer will require a bit more care. I will have to leave the hatch open after washes and have a dish towel there to dry everything off after I complete my washing cycles in order to keep mold and such from causing a stench in the machine and on the clothes. On the good side, there is no water knock while using the machine. That will save me $20 to $40 on components. I am glad I did not order those or find them in stock anywhere. Foolish luck? Maybe.
I had planned to take my friend shooting today. Obviously or not, I did not make that appointment. He did call, though as I said answering calls was beyond my capacity. A bit ago I called and we are scheduled to go shooting tomorrow. Since I did remember to reset my planned appointment for today to Monday, I suggested he would be welcome to go. He has wanted to go to Ogden. That will be early though, the appointment is in the morning. He is on board though. After shooting we will come back and look at my reloader. He might be able to help me make a few final adjustments. He has a different system, but many things are universal. He has been loading for five to ten years now, so... He, unlike myself, has a clue.
Lungs are still rough. If I sleep where I can breath, then I cannot move. If I move, I lose the capacity to breath and when that happens my chest ends up hurting, which wakes me and has me shift to where I can breath again. At least the cushions have made it so that I am not quite as sore of chest in the "morning" upon waking. Though that neither helps nor hurts perceived wakefulness. I guess it is a step up. After D.C. suggested that the anti-biotic I was on was usually a five day program, I reread the instructions. I had, and rightly, read that I was to take one pill a day. What I had failed to read, then understand, was that in spite of having six pills it was typed that it was indeed a five day program. They had not indicated to take two pills on the first day. Late but on track now, I took those two pills today. NOW I am on a five day program. hehe
I need to get to laundry, maybe tinker with the reloader a bit more, do some dishes, and figure some things out. But really, I could use a nap. It might be a good time to try and set that reclining chair up and see if it will allow me better rest. Yeah, I write a lot sometimes. I find it amazing how much goes on in the world involving even me and while I am mostly out of it. Huh? Yeah. That's what I thought too. Huh... *shrug*
Have a great day. May your lungs find all the air they need and your head be rested and ready. Or at least find something good to gnaw on. Later.
.
I struggled to sleep, as I usually do. I tried to use bigger couch pillows and my regular pillows to create an incline upon which to sleep. While it did allow me to breath easier, it was difficult to keep the support correct as I am a roller. I suppose weighing in at 270 doesn't help. Sleep has become more like catnaps between readjustments. Further, after finally settling in, the washing machine delivery people came at 7:30 or so, after having been up late opening access to the wash area and setting up the reloader. I tried to sleep after that, but with no more real success than before. Tonight I am going to try and sleep on a reclining chair with a footstool brought up for comfort.
I received dozens of calls all through the day to boot, it seemed. I tried to answer once, but did not reach the phone in time. Half asleep, half awake, in significant discomfort, trying to maintain balance on a raised sleeping platform, trying in all those states and ways to suck in enough air, I let the rest of the calls go to the answering service the time or two I thought I might have had a chance at answering. But that constant ringing simply made trying to sleep even more miserable. It seemed like the phone was constantly ringing, some in truth, some in dream-like echoes. Retched.
The V.A. called at least three times, and another call from their Vocational Rehabilitation. The other calls I am not sure about. Checking messages found other calls, some of which were merely baffling. I am in no condition to do any follow up. I did actually get a call from them, after I was finally awake. I will be doing a three day in-home sleep test starting next Wednesday. I hope I have found a way to sleep better by then, as the requirement is four to six hours of sleep for the test to be valid. At this point I am doing good to get a few hours in before something goes wrong or I have to fight my way awake to get air.
I did a first load of laundry in the machine today. Before I tried to go back to sleep, I wanted to do that. This washer will require a bit more care. I will have to leave the hatch open after washes and have a dish towel there to dry everything off after I complete my washing cycles in order to keep mold and such from causing a stench in the machine and on the clothes. On the good side, there is no water knock while using the machine. That will save me $20 to $40 on components. I am glad I did not order those or find them in stock anywhere. Foolish luck? Maybe.
I had planned to take my friend shooting today. Obviously or not, I did not make that appointment. He did call, though as I said answering calls was beyond my capacity. A bit ago I called and we are scheduled to go shooting tomorrow. Since I did remember to reset my planned appointment for today to Monday, I suggested he would be welcome to go. He has wanted to go to Ogden. That will be early though, the appointment is in the morning. He is on board though. After shooting we will come back and look at my reloader. He might be able to help me make a few final adjustments. He has a different system, but many things are universal. He has been loading for five to ten years now, so... He, unlike myself, has a clue.
Lungs are still rough. If I sleep where I can breath, then I cannot move. If I move, I lose the capacity to breath and when that happens my chest ends up hurting, which wakes me and has me shift to where I can breath again. At least the cushions have made it so that I am not quite as sore of chest in the "morning" upon waking. Though that neither helps nor hurts perceived wakefulness. I guess it is a step up. After D.C. suggested that the anti-biotic I was on was usually a five day program, I reread the instructions. I had, and rightly, read that I was to take one pill a day. What I had failed to read, then understand, was that in spite of having six pills it was typed that it was indeed a five day program. They had not indicated to take two pills on the first day. Late but on track now, I took those two pills today. NOW I am on a five day program. hehe
I need to get to laundry, maybe tinker with the reloader a bit more, do some dishes, and figure some things out. But really, I could use a nap. It might be a good time to try and set that reclining chair up and see if it will allow me better rest. Yeah, I write a lot sometimes. I find it amazing how much goes on in the world involving even me and while I am mostly out of it. Huh? Yeah. That's what I thought too. Huh... *shrug*
Have a great day. May your lungs find all the air they need and your head be rested and ready. Or at least find something good to gnaw on. Later.
I did get some of it.
.
.
The back room area has been opened up, my tools have been sorted and stored in the entry hall, the press is on the power stand and the power stand is attached to the workbench. I am tinkering with a few bits but needed to check the internet for setup instructions, some bits I found last time I browsed the topic. I have also set the dishes in the sink to a fresh soak if I don't think I will get to those tonight I might have a chance in the morning.
I have had to take about five breaks. Simply put, moving boxes, sorting and storing tools, and carrying parts for the reloader around is enough to set off a panting attack. Oddly, for having been nearly singularly stationary for the last twenty years, I still have decent lungs and decent stamina (not athletic, but better most any other couch potato). So this is frustrating. As soon as I recovered though, I was right back at it. Mistakes have been made, all recoverable so far. I am pretty much down to actually setting up the machine for .45 acp bullets. I am rather surprised I got this far or did this much but I will take it.
Both the beasts went out for a stroll earlier. Sam is back in. Sassy is nowhere to be found. She is like that more so than Sam anymore. Sam goes out, kills some stuff, perhaps visits a tom, then wants right back in. Quick, clean, and courteous. Sassy, for whatever reason, has started simply disappearing when I let her out, if too she only goes out a few times a week. I worry about her the most, too. She is still an absolute airhead, if I love her for that trait. She has no common sense whatsoever and has probably still not had to deal with a car or a dog. She must learn though, that is her lot as a farmstead cat. I still worry.
Well, a bit of review and perhaps I will have the reloader working enough to do a preliminary check before I go to bed. I will want to check everything again tomorrow, in any case. I had hoped to get a couple hundred cases polished but I simply lost track. The tasks I am doing were often splintered or complicated so that other tasks simply got lost in the shuffle. Hmm, what has it been, two maybe three years since I bought the machine? Ah well, all things in there time and it is this things time.
Good night.
.
The back room area has been opened up, my tools have been sorted and stored in the entry hall, the press is on the power stand and the power stand is attached to the workbench. I am tinkering with a few bits but needed to check the internet for setup instructions, some bits I found last time I browsed the topic. I have also set the dishes in the sink to a fresh soak if I don't think I will get to those tonight I might have a chance in the morning.
I have had to take about five breaks. Simply put, moving boxes, sorting and storing tools, and carrying parts for the reloader around is enough to set off a panting attack. Oddly, for having been nearly singularly stationary for the last twenty years, I still have decent lungs and decent stamina (not athletic, but better most any other couch potato). So this is frustrating. As soon as I recovered though, I was right back at it. Mistakes have been made, all recoverable so far. I am pretty much down to actually setting up the machine for .45 acp bullets. I am rather surprised I got this far or did this much but I will take it.
Both the beasts went out for a stroll earlier. Sam is back in. Sassy is nowhere to be found. She is like that more so than Sam anymore. Sam goes out, kills some stuff, perhaps visits a tom, then wants right back in. Quick, clean, and courteous. Sassy, for whatever reason, has started simply disappearing when I let her out, if too she only goes out a few times a week. I worry about her the most, too. She is still an absolute airhead, if I love her for that trait. She has no common sense whatsoever and has probably still not had to deal with a car or a dog. She must learn though, that is her lot as a farmstead cat. I still worry.
Well, a bit of review and perhaps I will have the reloader working enough to do a preliminary check before I go to bed. I will want to check everything again tomorrow, in any case. I had hoped to get a couple hundred cases polished but I simply lost track. The tasks I am doing were often splintered or complicated so that other tasks simply got lost in the shuffle. Hmm, what has it been, two maybe three years since I bought the machine? Ah well, all things in there time and it is this things time.
Good night.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Nothing fancy.
.
.
But I did get to town. If nothing else, I did not want to just sit around mumbling about health issues. I could not get a list going. No matter, I will have to be in town again anyway. I can't quite push to stop at every place I want or need to stop in one visit. I simply have to do things piecemeal.
I stopped at the tobacco outlet and took care of my needs. I wanted to do that on my return from SLC but the ER visit saw me back in town too late. I then picked up medium for my case cleaner, both varieties were to be had so I should be good there. I stopped at Lowe's and Home Depot looking for a water hammer arrester, neither store carried what I need. I was so sure those could be found locally that I did not bother to order those. With the washer arriving tomorrow, I will see if that is needed or not I guess. I simply hate not being sure. I wanted to stop at a few more places but I was simply done. A meal to go, so I could take my potassium at least for today, and then back home.
I called my friend on my way into town but he did not answer. He called shortly after I returned home. Because I do not know when the washer will be arriving, other than sometime between 8:00 and 12:00, I will have to reschedule tomorrow's appointment in Ogden to Monday. So, I went ahead and asked if he wanted to go shooting tomorrow afternoon. It seems like that is the plan for now. I will check a couple of the local hardware stores for the water hammer arresters on my way out of the house, if they are called for.
Now, I need to clear some of my tools from the entrance and then boxes in the back room so that the path for the washer is easy. I am also hoping to set up the reloader tonight. One of those jobs is a must, the other is a want. I would also like to clean up the kitchen but I think that is pushing things. I will be lucky to get the first of those things done, and it will be a miracle to get the loader put together. The dishes are... well... they will be there always. Christ mentioned that the poor will always be with us, he never mentioned that the dishes will be also. Fie!
I tried to get more sleep this morning by using couch cushions and my pillows. That did not work out well. My chest was already sore from fighting for breath or something and my lungs had filled with fluid by that time. I am going to try to sleep elevated all night tonight and see if that helps at all. I have had the windows open most of the afternoon. While I wondered if air quality in the house was a problem, being that getting out into fresh air for hours doesn't help lends to the notion that it is not the air. Still, it is always good to have fresh air in the place. Yes indeed.
In spite of what I am doing, I have to admit, I feel much more like sleeping. Every hour up and moving is a challenge, more so than usual. It has always baffled me, but I seem to work better when sick or wounded. It is like I am trying to prove that being sick or wounded won't keep me down in spite of being disabled to begin with? Don't ask, I don't understand myself. Hmm, maybe I should find something that would make me sick all of the time? No, that would eventually just be another permanent lead filled saddle bag added to the others.
Anyway, later or good night.
.
But I did get to town. If nothing else, I did not want to just sit around mumbling about health issues. I could not get a list going. No matter, I will have to be in town again anyway. I can't quite push to stop at every place I want or need to stop in one visit. I simply have to do things piecemeal.
I stopped at the tobacco outlet and took care of my needs. I wanted to do that on my return from SLC but the ER visit saw me back in town too late. I then picked up medium for my case cleaner, both varieties were to be had so I should be good there. I stopped at Lowe's and Home Depot looking for a water hammer arrester, neither store carried what I need. I was so sure those could be found locally that I did not bother to order those. With the washer arriving tomorrow, I will see if that is needed or not I guess. I simply hate not being sure. I wanted to stop at a few more places but I was simply done. A meal to go, so I could take my potassium at least for today, and then back home.
I called my friend on my way into town but he did not answer. He called shortly after I returned home. Because I do not know when the washer will be arriving, other than sometime between 8:00 and 12:00, I will have to reschedule tomorrow's appointment in Ogden to Monday. So, I went ahead and asked if he wanted to go shooting tomorrow afternoon. It seems like that is the plan for now. I will check a couple of the local hardware stores for the water hammer arresters on my way out of the house, if they are called for.
Now, I need to clear some of my tools from the entrance and then boxes in the back room so that the path for the washer is easy. I am also hoping to set up the reloader tonight. One of those jobs is a must, the other is a want. I would also like to clean up the kitchen but I think that is pushing things. I will be lucky to get the first of those things done, and it will be a miracle to get the loader put together. The dishes are... well... they will be there always. Christ mentioned that the poor will always be with us, he never mentioned that the dishes will be also. Fie!
I tried to get more sleep this morning by using couch cushions and my pillows. That did not work out well. My chest was already sore from fighting for breath or something and my lungs had filled with fluid by that time. I am going to try to sleep elevated all night tonight and see if that helps at all. I have had the windows open most of the afternoon. While I wondered if air quality in the house was a problem, being that getting out into fresh air for hours doesn't help lends to the notion that it is not the air. Still, it is always good to have fresh air in the place. Yes indeed.
In spite of what I am doing, I have to admit, I feel much more like sleeping. Every hour up and moving is a challenge, more so than usual. It has always baffled me, but I seem to work better when sick or wounded. It is like I am trying to prove that being sick or wounded won't keep me down in spite of being disabled to begin with? Don't ask, I don't understand myself. Hmm, maybe I should find something that would make me sick all of the time? No, that would eventually just be another permanent lead filled saddle bag added to the others.
Anyway, later or good night.
At least two others have it.
.
.
DC and Stacey seem to be sick too. If it doesn't make things better, it does give me pause. Then again, and like them, albeit within my doubly withered capacity, I continue to try and move through and do things anyway. It is nice to know I am not the only one choking on breath if I would rather be the only one in another way.
I read not only for news, but for snark, funnies, and just to know I am not the only one who is sometimes wrong. This, for example, struck my funny bone and prickly nature at the same time, and offered a complaint about being lunglame as well. Three birds with one stone makes me a happy man.
Well, I best get going. It is too late to shoot but I might get some things done. Later.
.
DC and Stacey seem to be sick too. If it doesn't make things better, it does give me pause. Then again, and like them, albeit within my doubly withered capacity, I continue to try and move through and do things anyway. It is nice to know I am not the only one choking on breath if I would rather be the only one in another way.
I read not only for news, but for snark, funnies, and just to know I am not the only one who is sometimes wrong. This, for example, struck my funny bone and prickly nature at the same time, and offered a complaint about being lunglame as well. Three birds with one stone makes me a happy man.
Well, I best get going. It is too late to shoot but I might get some things done. Later.
The good and the bad.
.
.
The good is that I am able to get to sleep at night. It does take a bit to get comfortable and to get in a position which is comfortable and in which breathing seems easiest. Then, lights out. The sleep seems to be pretty good too. The bad is that I can't sleep very long, perhaps four to six hours. If I try to push past that I only get brutal painful sips of sleep. I NEED more than I am getting. But my lungs are full by morning and every position I try to find hurts, beyond the breathing difficulties. My skeleton and muscles just ache for whatever reason.
When I do get up, the pains pretty much fade. As well, breathing eases immensely, initially. My breathing will be a bit of problem to a great difficulty in varying degrees throughout the day. I am also, occasionally, suffering from allergies, something that is usually a very minor thing, but along with the difficulty in breathing becomes a lot more severe. My nasal passages are easy to clear and keep clear, I just have to constantly blow it all out. I have just enough of an allergy to some various things that I can have empathy for those with a serious issue. My lungs still burn from time to time, sometimes on their own, sometimes when I have to push my lungs to work, and definitely if I do a lot of activity all at once.
I have started taking the meds, save the potassium except when I eat. Two Azethrromycin at 250 mg hasn't seen much change, but I just took the second one. I have four of those left. I have no other flu-like symptoms but then the water pill isn't helping either, and I am voiding gallons. So... I have no clue what is really the problem though I still suspect it is merely an infection. If the infection is viral, it will be more difficult to treat. And I did notice that my blood counts (white and red and hemoglobin or something, "hbc") were slightly elevated (the last time checked, this time the doctor in the ER did not say one way or the other after he tested for that again). Oh, and my oxygen blood level seems to be good (or better, really). Normal is 90-100, while mine was reading 110 where it is usually in the low 100 range. Go figure. My corpse simply doesn't follow the rules. But then, I push to breath, past the pain, and deeply. I fight it actively, if in a passive way (I don't think about it, my body just does it).
My friend called twice today. I just got up and will call him back pretty soon. I know he wants to go shooting. I have a dozen things to do in town today, but they are all quick. The day is good and the sun is up and longer days are here again. So I believe I should be able to do my stuff and go shooting too. But I need an hour or so to get my ducks in a row. I simply can't jump and run. Even if someone was shooting at me, I would just load up, hunker down, and live or die where I stood, at least at this point. Then again, in my home, that is pretty much the way it goes at this point even when I am feeling better and could run, mostly.
Oh, I know, a defensive position, at this time, is a guaranteed failure. However, a surrounded position would also make for an excellent trap. While it would draw in many to surround, another force, or several, could easily put an attacking force in a crossfire, taking out elements of an attacking force in pieces. If operated correctly and smartly, a small defending force and a small mobile force could take out a much larger attacking force. Never mind. I just make this crap up. Ha! I know nothing.
Oh, when the missionaries visited, we discussed some things. I thought I had read, in the bible, something about God having chosen, sometime in the fog of longago, what was and was not God, and so defined God. But I can't remember enough about the passage to find it. I have been looking for a bit now. Why is it important? It is and it is not, I suppose. But when it was suggested that Lucifer chose evil on his own, I suggested that what God had set aside as not god might have had enough... potency... being just as eternal, to become sort of an anti or unholy spirit. I sort of think this group, the unholy spirit, satan, and the anti-Christ would be a false resemblance of the Trinity. Perhaps I just like parity or discreet logical packaging? And, having read other writings, I might be wrong about it being in the bible... but I am almost sure it is in there. Old Testament, of course, is where it might be found. Yeah, yeah, but...
Have a good day.
.
The good is that I am able to get to sleep at night. It does take a bit to get comfortable and to get in a position which is comfortable and in which breathing seems easiest. Then, lights out. The sleep seems to be pretty good too. The bad is that I can't sleep very long, perhaps four to six hours. If I try to push past that I only get brutal painful sips of sleep. I NEED more than I am getting. But my lungs are full by morning and every position I try to find hurts, beyond the breathing difficulties. My skeleton and muscles just ache for whatever reason.
When I do get up, the pains pretty much fade. As well, breathing eases immensely, initially. My breathing will be a bit of problem to a great difficulty in varying degrees throughout the day. I am also, occasionally, suffering from allergies, something that is usually a very minor thing, but along with the difficulty in breathing becomes a lot more severe. My nasal passages are easy to clear and keep clear, I just have to constantly blow it all out. I have just enough of an allergy to some various things that I can have empathy for those with a serious issue. My lungs still burn from time to time, sometimes on their own, sometimes when I have to push my lungs to work, and definitely if I do a lot of activity all at once.
I have started taking the meds, save the potassium except when I eat. Two Azethrromycin at 250 mg hasn't seen much change, but I just took the second one. I have four of those left. I have no other flu-like symptoms but then the water pill isn't helping either, and I am voiding gallons. So... I have no clue what is really the problem though I still suspect it is merely an infection. If the infection is viral, it will be more difficult to treat. And I did notice that my blood counts (white and red and hemoglobin or something, "hbc") were slightly elevated (the last time checked, this time the doctor in the ER did not say one way or the other after he tested for that again). Oh, and my oxygen blood level seems to be good (or better, really). Normal is 90-100, while mine was reading 110 where it is usually in the low 100 range. Go figure. My corpse simply doesn't follow the rules. But then, I push to breath, past the pain, and deeply. I fight it actively, if in a passive way (I don't think about it, my body just does it).
My friend called twice today. I just got up and will call him back pretty soon. I know he wants to go shooting. I have a dozen things to do in town today, but they are all quick. The day is good and the sun is up and longer days are here again. So I believe I should be able to do my stuff and go shooting too. But I need an hour or so to get my ducks in a row. I simply can't jump and run. Even if someone was shooting at me, I would just load up, hunker down, and live or die where I stood, at least at this point. Then again, in my home, that is pretty much the way it goes at this point even when I am feeling better and could run, mostly.
Oh, I know, a defensive position, at this time, is a guaranteed failure. However, a surrounded position would also make for an excellent trap. While it would draw in many to surround, another force, or several, could easily put an attacking force in a crossfire, taking out elements of an attacking force in pieces. If operated correctly and smartly, a small defending force and a small mobile force could take out a much larger attacking force. Never mind. I just make this crap up. Ha! I know nothing.
Oh, when the missionaries visited, we discussed some things. I thought I had read, in the bible, something about God having chosen, sometime in the fog of longago, what was and was not God, and so defined God. But I can't remember enough about the passage to find it. I have been looking for a bit now. Why is it important? It is and it is not, I suppose. But when it was suggested that Lucifer chose evil on his own, I suggested that what God had set aside as not god might have had enough... potency... being just as eternal, to become sort of an anti or unholy spirit. I sort of think this group, the unholy spirit, satan, and the anti-Christ would be a false resemblance of the Trinity. Perhaps I just like parity or discreet logical packaging? And, having read other writings, I might be wrong about it being in the bible... but I am almost sure it is in there. Old Testament, of course, is where it might be found. Yeah, yeah, but...
Have a good day.
Something I have written about before.
.
.
It is a Twilight Zone topic (an old sci-fi series about strange happenings). Still, it has been on my mind for many years. It happens, once in a while, that I see a person bearing the mark(s) which just freak me out. Actually, my second to last fiancee had this mark, but only from time to time. She was healthy, went in for all kinds of exams in a timely fashion, so it was not a health issue. What am I talking about? Let me give you an example. This a picture of a women who possess (or seems to) the mark(s) which I am about to discuss.
This woman is an atheist who is in trouble for some sort of public display of a sexual nature, though if that has anything to do with the eyes, I simply cannot tell. I have heard it discussed that such eyes are the sign of an evil person. But I have seen it, occasionally, in people I know. And, while I can't know even myself perfectly, I am pretty sure these people were not evil. Or at least not wholly evil. Even if I have not always understood good well enough to... properly attempt to live it (and am still working on that in any case), I have always noted evil and attempted to stay away from it. And only people can be open to evil. Cars, houses, knives, guns, trees, animals, and the rest are simple objects. Nothing but humans have eaten from the tree which bore the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil.
I just wanted to show a picture (which I stole from another blogger who posted the news and a picture). Has anyone else seen these type of eyes? There is no medical explanation to quite cover this. Has anyone heard lore? Just curious. After years of speculation, I finally looked up what I wrote about and thought about for decades now. I found very little in the way of lore or medical. Oh, the "whites of the eyes" (even when they aren't white) are called sclera.
Uhrm, good night.
.
It is a Twilight Zone topic (an old sci-fi series about strange happenings). Still, it has been on my mind for many years. It happens, once in a while, that I see a person bearing the mark(s) which just freak me out. Actually, my second to last fiancee had this mark, but only from time to time. She was healthy, went in for all kinds of exams in a timely fashion, so it was not a health issue. What am I talking about? Let me give you an example. This a picture of a women who possess (or seems to) the mark(s) which I am about to discuss.
This woman is an atheist who is in trouble for some sort of public display of a sexual nature, though if that has anything to do with the eyes, I simply cannot tell. I have heard it discussed that such eyes are the sign of an evil person. But I have seen it, occasionally, in people I know. And, while I can't know even myself perfectly, I am pretty sure these people were not evil. Or at least not wholly evil. Even if I have not always understood good well enough to... properly attempt to live it (and am still working on that in any case), I have always noted evil and attempted to stay away from it. And only people can be open to evil. Cars, houses, knives, guns, trees, animals, and the rest are simple objects. Nothing but humans have eaten from the tree which bore the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil.
I just wanted to show a picture (which I stole from another blogger who posted the news and a picture). Has anyone else seen these type of eyes? There is no medical explanation to quite cover this. Has anyone heard lore? Just curious. After years of speculation, I finally looked up what I wrote about and thought about for decades now. I found very little in the way of lore or medical. Oh, the "whites of the eyes" (even when they aren't white) are called sclera.
Uhrm, good night.
I simply could not do much today.
.
.
Most of the day was spent recovering from doing so much recently. I had nothing to give and could not push past it. Getting hungry though, I did order a pizza and go pick it up. I also found a message on my phone. A neighbor had called around to see if anyone was having basement flooding problems and offering to help if so, and he asked for volunteers to fill sandbags. I called him back, thanked him for calling (I think) and told him that I was having no flooding. I then asked about the sandbag job and he gave me another man's phone number. Calling there I was told that it is just a possibilities list. If they need, this weekend, they will call people on the list.
While my lungs may be problematic, I am trying to simply work through it. I believe, if I don't rush and push in extreme, I can probably help out. Perhaps, too, the antibiotics will kick in by then. It would be a chance to meet some of the locals in a neutral setting where socializing is a side issue as well. In any case, I am now on the list. Now, while I would like to be helpful, I honestly hope this doesn't come to pass. From what I have seen, sandbagging is pretty much a way to work with hope in a hopeless cause. The few times I have seen it "work" it worked because it wasn't needed. Then again, maybe I am wrong. There is a strong chance of heavy flooding in some parts. I don't think my area is actually threatened even if the damn burst at full depth. If I flood, the world is in trouble. I... think.
Oh, I received a call saying my doctor wants more blood work Friday. Something about potassium, again. I have told him I can't and won't take potassium regularly because I do not eat regularly. If I ate daily I would take these meds daily. Without food in the stomach taking potassium is a rude thing. As is, and again, given what they can or will do, I consider myself on palliative care and wish they would stick with the program. I almost wonder, as passive-aggressive as they are, if they are not merely pushing so darned hard merely to try and convince me not to take the medicines. But, why? Since I am already not taking them and won't? (Just... working through potential things in my head, pay no too serious of a mind.) They know my answer, more talking will not do anything to change my mind. Thankfully they can't force me to take medicines though. Because I honestly think, if their push is not passive-aggressive counter-thought, if they could they would have me arrested and force the medication. Not just at the V.A., either. Civilian doctors are just as freaky.
Here is my thing though. If my condition is so damn bad, why not go a bit out on a limb and offer what I have suggested and then allow that to settle for a while? If I am sure to die, I mean absolutely, then why not do that one thing? Something is really weird. Why the push to save me in the first place, I have wondered? And why do they want me normal? Is normal blood pressure and stats to them what following Christ is to me? But in the true secularism of medicine is the notion that those who are unfit should die sort of a truth? Hitler, Stalin, Sanger, and many others pushed this, and further extended normal into other than health issues. I am abnormal on dozens of counts, I am easily due death for the secular crime of being different. I guess I do not get what these doctors are doing (or in my more... doubtful thinking... what they are up to). Actually, I am surprised they haven't tried to kill me. Or, is that what they really are doing?
As for me, I don't really want to die but I can't take the medicine. I definitely do not want to be killed, either. I don't think I am the crazy one, on this matter. Just as some end up not being able to tolerate other medicines, chemo, or some procedures, I simply cannot tolerate the toxins they are trying to shove at me and I have started doubting them for the pressure. I don't care if I am the only one these affect this way, it really does incapacitate me further than I can consciously deal with (and I doubt, highly, that I am the only one). But why the ten-court-length-full-court-press to get me to take this stuff? Something just doesn't add up. I have no faith in them. *sigh*
I do hope to get out tomorrow for business, shopping, and maybe more. Friday is another day of travel, for blood work. The weekend might be busy too. I am not sure when I will get the reloader together, but it might happen tonight yet. I just... don't... know. Oh, I can't wear my watch for a while. When the nurse tried to put in the IV connection in the right wrist it blew out. She then had to put it in the left wrist. Now both are a bit tender. I hate not wearing my watch. It isn't jewelry, it is... a part of my arm almost anymore. And I miss it. *sigh/grump*
Later, or more hopefully, good night.
.
Most of the day was spent recovering from doing so much recently. I had nothing to give and could not push past it. Getting hungry though, I did order a pizza and go pick it up. I also found a message on my phone. A neighbor had called around to see if anyone was having basement flooding problems and offering to help if so, and he asked for volunteers to fill sandbags. I called him back, thanked him for calling (I think) and told him that I was having no flooding. I then asked about the sandbag job and he gave me another man's phone number. Calling there I was told that it is just a possibilities list. If they need, this weekend, they will call people on the list.
While my lungs may be problematic, I am trying to simply work through it. I believe, if I don't rush and push in extreme, I can probably help out. Perhaps, too, the antibiotics will kick in by then. It would be a chance to meet some of the locals in a neutral setting where socializing is a side issue as well. In any case, I am now on the list. Now, while I would like to be helpful, I honestly hope this doesn't come to pass. From what I have seen, sandbagging is pretty much a way to work with hope in a hopeless cause. The few times I have seen it "work" it worked because it wasn't needed. Then again, maybe I am wrong. There is a strong chance of heavy flooding in some parts. I don't think my area is actually threatened even if the damn burst at full depth. If I flood, the world is in trouble. I... think.
Oh, I received a call saying my doctor wants more blood work Friday. Something about potassium, again. I have told him I can't and won't take potassium regularly because I do not eat regularly. If I ate daily I would take these meds daily. Without food in the stomach taking potassium is a rude thing. As is, and again, given what they can or will do, I consider myself on palliative care and wish they would stick with the program. I almost wonder, as passive-aggressive as they are, if they are not merely pushing so darned hard merely to try and convince me not to take the medicines. But, why? Since I am already not taking them and won't? (Just... working through potential things in my head, pay no too serious of a mind.) They know my answer, more talking will not do anything to change my mind. Thankfully they can't force me to take medicines though. Because I honestly think, if their push is not passive-aggressive counter-thought, if they could they would have me arrested and force the medication. Not just at the V.A., either. Civilian doctors are just as freaky.
Here is my thing though. If my condition is so damn bad, why not go a bit out on a limb and offer what I have suggested and then allow that to settle for a while? If I am sure to die, I mean absolutely, then why not do that one thing? Something is really weird. Why the push to save me in the first place, I have wondered? And why do they want me normal? Is normal blood pressure and stats to them what following Christ is to me? But in the true secularism of medicine is the notion that those who are unfit should die sort of a truth? Hitler, Stalin, Sanger, and many others pushed this, and further extended normal into other than health issues. I am abnormal on dozens of counts, I am easily due death for the secular crime of being different. I guess I do not get what these doctors are doing (or in my more... doubtful thinking... what they are up to). Actually, I am surprised they haven't tried to kill me. Or, is that what they really are doing?
As for me, I don't really want to die but I can't take the medicine. I definitely do not want to be killed, either. I don't think I am the crazy one, on this matter. Just as some end up not being able to tolerate other medicines, chemo, or some procedures, I simply cannot tolerate the toxins they are trying to shove at me and I have started doubting them for the pressure. I don't care if I am the only one these affect this way, it really does incapacitate me further than I can consciously deal with (and I doubt, highly, that I am the only one). But why the ten-court-length-full-court-press to get me to take this stuff? Something just doesn't add up. I have no faith in them. *sigh*
I do hope to get out tomorrow for business, shopping, and maybe more. Friday is another day of travel, for blood work. The weekend might be busy too. I am not sure when I will get the reloader together, but it might happen tonight yet. I just... don't... know. Oh, I can't wear my watch for a while. When the nurse tried to put in the IV connection in the right wrist it blew out. She then had to put it in the left wrist. Now both are a bit tender. I hate not wearing my watch. It isn't jewelry, it is... a part of my arm almost anymore. And I miss it. *sigh/grump*
Later, or more hopefully, good night.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
All I could do.
.
.
I did not get dishes done, but I did straighten up a bit. My breath is still quite difficult and I can lose it doing very minor things. If I can get going, I am hoping to put my reloader together tonight, or start on it. While I do not have instructions, really, I forgot that I ordered a DVD. I have found that and will look at it. I am not all that hopeful that it will help putting the machine together though, if I remember correctly it is more about reloading than putting the machine together and is further the DVD uses a slightly different system.
I will not be going to town today, either. Business needs, shooting, grocery shopping, and supply shopping will have to wait until tomorrow. I still feel like napping. I am never sure whether I should nap or not though. Being that my days and nights are way off as is, I am not sure it could hurt. The problem, of course, is that napping requires breathing, and breathing is an effort. I am hoping the anti-biotic will work, or at least that the water pill could reduce fluids. Still, I am not sure doctors have any clue. I know for sure that they do not actually know or they would start out with whats works in the first place. Or would they?
At least the sun is out. Perhaps the windows could be opened. Fresh air sounds good, but I am feeling sort of chilly lately. Perhaps the breathing problem is making temp control difficult? Could be. But fresh air sounds so good. Have a good day. Later or maybe even good night.
.
I did not get dishes done, but I did straighten up a bit. My breath is still quite difficult and I can lose it doing very minor things. If I can get going, I am hoping to put my reloader together tonight, or start on it. While I do not have instructions, really, I forgot that I ordered a DVD. I have found that and will look at it. I am not all that hopeful that it will help putting the machine together though, if I remember correctly it is more about reloading than putting the machine together and is further the DVD uses a slightly different system.
I will not be going to town today, either. Business needs, shooting, grocery shopping, and supply shopping will have to wait until tomorrow. I still feel like napping. I am never sure whether I should nap or not though. Being that my days and nights are way off as is, I am not sure it could hurt. The problem, of course, is that napping requires breathing, and breathing is an effort. I am hoping the anti-biotic will work, or at least that the water pill could reduce fluids. Still, I am not sure doctors have any clue. I know for sure that they do not actually know or they would start out with whats works in the first place. Or would they?
At least the sun is out. Perhaps the windows could be opened. Fresh air sounds good, but I am feeling sort of chilly lately. Perhaps the breathing problem is making temp control difficult? Could be. But fresh air sounds so good. Have a good day. Later or maybe even good night.
Finally, sleep.
.
.
I could not come down enough to crawl into bed until a bit before 2:00. Though I rolled and adjusted pillows, taking some time to ease into sleep, I would guess it was pretty close to 2:00 when all things conscious blinked out. I did dream. What I can remember of it was more like those old movies where everything was sunshine, women wore 1940's type styles including hats for some of them, and pretty women were everywhere, but not modern "pretty women". Pleasant dreams in other words.
I woke this morning but was not quite ready, so back into dreamland. Whether I dreamed more I can't say. A few more hours of sleep and though I really wanted more sleep my lungs were filling again. I crawled out of bed and had to use the facilities right off, if that was not a demanding thing I did notice. I would guess a half a gallon went out. I had decided not to take one of those water pills right off, last night, as I was pretty sure what they gave me in the ER was not done. That was probably a good decision too.
When I first looked at the alarm clock, either one of the numbers was hidden by the angle or I was still half asleep. I thought it said 13:00 and change. Sort of grumpy about having slept that long and that late, I began taking my "morning" routine and putting it into action so as to wake up. I have visitors coming at 15:00, so I had wanted to do dishes, straighten the house, and prepare myself better by waking a bit. Being this late, I would barely be able to simply wake. An half hour into my waking process, I looked at the wall clock. Hmm, 11:00 and change? Not trusting the wall clock completely, I decided to check two other time keepers. Sure enough, just nearing noon. A nine hour sleep is fine considering how little I have been able to sleep.
Now, too, I can possibly get to some of the tidying of my place. A few things here, a couple of things there, and maybe a load of dishes as well. Still stretched from lack of sleep I will have to push a bit. The good thing about weekly company is it gives me a solid non-negotiable time table. The payoff, beside company, is having a neater home. What else I may get to today is a question to be answered later. The goal for today is merely install and adjust the reloader. I need several types of media to clean cartridges, so that might be purchased today as well as doing shopping for other foods. Milk is needed. Then again, shopping may wait until tomorrow so that I may do some other business in town. I simply can't get to town in time today (I think at this point) to do that and I don't want to make two trips if I don't have to do so. Not with gas being an arm and a leg and my energy level being what it is.
So much done though. From the reloader to obtaining climbing gear, to taking care of my medical concerns as I can. I am doing very well, if a bit pinched for it. I am not worried about being tired though, as whether I do anything or not I end up tired and worse. Just being a party to life and the world, feeling that I am doing what is expected of me as little as that is, and then stretching into wants and needs from those wants and then on to simple demands due to the home is all good. I want to be tired everyday, but from doing not just because. I guess I will push as long as I can and see where it takes me.
Have a great day.
.
I could not come down enough to crawl into bed until a bit before 2:00. Though I rolled and adjusted pillows, taking some time to ease into sleep, I would guess it was pretty close to 2:00 when all things conscious blinked out. I did dream. What I can remember of it was more like those old movies where everything was sunshine, women wore 1940's type styles including hats for some of them, and pretty women were everywhere, but not modern "pretty women". Pleasant dreams in other words.
I woke this morning but was not quite ready, so back into dreamland. Whether I dreamed more I can't say. A few more hours of sleep and though I really wanted more sleep my lungs were filling again. I crawled out of bed and had to use the facilities right off, if that was not a demanding thing I did notice. I would guess a half a gallon went out. I had decided not to take one of those water pills right off, last night, as I was pretty sure what they gave me in the ER was not done. That was probably a good decision too.
When I first looked at the alarm clock, either one of the numbers was hidden by the angle or I was still half asleep. I thought it said 13:00 and change. Sort of grumpy about having slept that long and that late, I began taking my "morning" routine and putting it into action so as to wake up. I have visitors coming at 15:00, so I had wanted to do dishes, straighten the house, and prepare myself better by waking a bit. Being this late, I would barely be able to simply wake. An half hour into my waking process, I looked at the wall clock. Hmm, 11:00 and change? Not trusting the wall clock completely, I decided to check two other time keepers. Sure enough, just nearing noon. A nine hour sleep is fine considering how little I have been able to sleep.
Now, too, I can possibly get to some of the tidying of my place. A few things here, a couple of things there, and maybe a load of dishes as well. Still stretched from lack of sleep I will have to push a bit. The good thing about weekly company is it gives me a solid non-negotiable time table. The payoff, beside company, is having a neater home. What else I may get to today is a question to be answered later. The goal for today is merely install and adjust the reloader. I need several types of media to clean cartridges, so that might be purchased today as well as doing shopping for other foods. Milk is needed. Then again, shopping may wait until tomorrow so that I may do some other business in town. I simply can't get to town in time today (I think at this point) to do that and I don't want to make two trips if I don't have to do so. Not with gas being an arm and a leg and my energy level being what it is.
So much done though. From the reloader to obtaining climbing gear, to taking care of my medical concerns as I can. I am doing very well, if a bit pinched for it. I am not worried about being tired though, as whether I do anything or not I end up tired and worse. Just being a party to life and the world, feeling that I am doing what is expected of me as little as that is, and then stretching into wants and needs from those wants and then on to simple demands due to the home is all good. I want to be tired everyday, but from doing not just because. I guess I will push as long as I can and see where it takes me.
Have a great day.
Finally home.
.
.
Getting going was difficult. I did try to rest a bit before going. That was pretty much a bust. I wanted to be on the road by noon. In spite of making it into the shower by 11:30 I did not get on the road until 13:00. I did place a call to my primary physician, ended up connecting with a case manager or nurse and really only her message machine. I suggested I was still having problems, that I would be in SLC today, and asked if they could set up a prescription that I might pick up. The drive to SLCity was brutal. I could barely keep my eyes open. Troubled breathing did not help. Loud music, often a necessity for driving while exhausted, did help a bit. I made it to the hospital by 15:00 or so.
I was not sure if I was going to be able to complete all of the "extra-curricular" requests my primary physician requested. With an appointment at 17:00, I was also trying to schedule a walk-in x-ray and blood work. I also considered going to the emergency room if I did not hear back from my primary care physician. Amazingly, I received my travel pay and did both auxiliary procedures by 15:45 or so and then went looking for the clinic for my actual scheduled appointment. I was signed in and waiting by 16:00, an hour early. A half hour later the doctor came out to see who was next, on first, or such. It turned out to be me. Because of a slight communication error, he did not notice that I was waiting or I would have been out by the time I was seen. Then again it was only a few minutes of processing.
I had not heard from my primary care, so I decided to go to the ER. Civilian, military, or V.A., even with a seemingly empty waiting room the wait was long. After triage, then checking in at the front desk, more waiting. Annoyed, of course, but quietly patient too. I was very sleepy, quite hungry, and just plane ready to be done by this point. Still, more waiting. Finally I am called back, and when I go in I realize they are rather busy in there. No one is rushing as there seem to be no huge emergencies, but they are all sifting through the work they do have.
A nurse sees me first, does this and that, and then I wait some more. A doctor visits, asks some questions, and tells the nurse what he wants. The nurse puts the table up so that I am resting at a serious incline. I grab some zzz's in all the waiting, but now do so much more comfortably. She returns and takes more blood samples and sets me up for an IV, though does not install one. At this point I am a little worried, though I am glad I set the cats up with food and water for a few days just in case I am asked to stay. I had also packed some clothes, several pair of fresh underwear and socks, a shirt, a few odds and ends, and something to read. Not bad for having to shove to get going in the first place.
More waiting. The doctor reviews the x-rays, CT scan, and blood work done earlier while waiting for the results of the new tests. When all of that is back, he says there seems to be a large amount of water in my lungs. He schedules another exam of some other sort, or at least puts in the consult, recommends a more potent water pill and potassium, has me take four potassium pills and has the nurse administer a huge dose of a liquid diuretic through the IV connection. Then I have to wait until it works and then void in a device by which they can measure the urine. All I can do is twelve ounces or so. Lots of waiting, lots of rest, and probably a good thing. No long stretch of rest but a bunch of power naps. I think they forgot me. The doctor had sort of ended the thing but the nurse did not seem to know when she finally stopped back in. I assured her that he was done. I had prescriptions to fill, so after she released me I headed there. Only a ten minute wait, there, so I grabbed a snack, enough to hold me until I could find more serious food.
When I returned, the pharmacist had three medicines. Three? I must have had a doubtful look on my face, as he was about to leave to check on things when he said something about an anti-biotic. Ah, wait! My primary doctor, and I said his name, might have sent something without calling and letting me know. Sure enough, he checked the name and all was good. Grabbing my goodies, I headed home. I grabbed a meal on the way. I debated stopping to return the tall stool, being quite weary at that time. And yet, somehow, I did just that.
I am breathing just a hair better. I will continue to take what was prescribed and try to make my future appointments. But there are so many! I think there are two on schedule and three more that might be coming in. I do get lost, I simply lose days in spite of not losing myself. My schedule can change radically at any moment as well. But, I will try.
Tired, so very tired. I hope with being tired and the slightly easier breathing that I might sleep well and long. I so very much need it. And yet I am well pleased with this jumble of necessities and wants I have tended today. I brought clothes and such for a stay, set the cats up, made my appointment, took care of two things for my primary to boot, and then pushed and took care of my breathing a bit. And still I managed to do a return on an item. Yeah, okay, it was a good if brutal day.
Later, or more hopefully, good night.
.
Getting going was difficult. I did try to rest a bit before going. That was pretty much a bust. I wanted to be on the road by noon. In spite of making it into the shower by 11:30 I did not get on the road until 13:00. I did place a call to my primary physician, ended up connecting with a case manager or nurse and really only her message machine. I suggested I was still having problems, that I would be in SLC today, and asked if they could set up a prescription that I might pick up. The drive to SLCity was brutal. I could barely keep my eyes open. Troubled breathing did not help. Loud music, often a necessity for driving while exhausted, did help a bit. I made it to the hospital by 15:00 or so.
I was not sure if I was going to be able to complete all of the "extra-curricular" requests my primary physician requested. With an appointment at 17:00, I was also trying to schedule a walk-in x-ray and blood work. I also considered going to the emergency room if I did not hear back from my primary care physician. Amazingly, I received my travel pay and did both auxiliary procedures by 15:45 or so and then went looking for the clinic for my actual scheduled appointment. I was signed in and waiting by 16:00, an hour early. A half hour later the doctor came out to see who was next, on first, or such. It turned out to be me. Because of a slight communication error, he did not notice that I was waiting or I would have been out by the time I was seen. Then again it was only a few minutes of processing.
I had not heard from my primary care, so I decided to go to the ER. Civilian, military, or V.A., even with a seemingly empty waiting room the wait was long. After triage, then checking in at the front desk, more waiting. Annoyed, of course, but quietly patient too. I was very sleepy, quite hungry, and just plane ready to be done by this point. Still, more waiting. Finally I am called back, and when I go in I realize they are rather busy in there. No one is rushing as there seem to be no huge emergencies, but they are all sifting through the work they do have.
A nurse sees me first, does this and that, and then I wait some more. A doctor visits, asks some questions, and tells the nurse what he wants. The nurse puts the table up so that I am resting at a serious incline. I grab some zzz's in all the waiting, but now do so much more comfortably. She returns and takes more blood samples and sets me up for an IV, though does not install one. At this point I am a little worried, though I am glad I set the cats up with food and water for a few days just in case I am asked to stay. I had also packed some clothes, several pair of fresh underwear and socks, a shirt, a few odds and ends, and something to read. Not bad for having to shove to get going in the first place.
More waiting. The doctor reviews the x-rays, CT scan, and blood work done earlier while waiting for the results of the new tests. When all of that is back, he says there seems to be a large amount of water in my lungs. He schedules another exam of some other sort, or at least puts in the consult, recommends a more potent water pill and potassium, has me take four potassium pills and has the nurse administer a huge dose of a liquid diuretic through the IV connection. Then I have to wait until it works and then void in a device by which they can measure the urine. All I can do is twelve ounces or so. Lots of waiting, lots of rest, and probably a good thing. No long stretch of rest but a bunch of power naps. I think they forgot me. The doctor had sort of ended the thing but the nurse did not seem to know when she finally stopped back in. I assured her that he was done. I had prescriptions to fill, so after she released me I headed there. Only a ten minute wait, there, so I grabbed a snack, enough to hold me until I could find more serious food.
When I returned, the pharmacist had three medicines. Three? I must have had a doubtful look on my face, as he was about to leave to check on things when he said something about an anti-biotic. Ah, wait! My primary doctor, and I said his name, might have sent something without calling and letting me know. Sure enough, he checked the name and all was good. Grabbing my goodies, I headed home. I grabbed a meal on the way. I debated stopping to return the tall stool, being quite weary at that time. And yet, somehow, I did just that.
I am breathing just a hair better. I will continue to take what was prescribed and try to make my future appointments. But there are so many! I think there are two on schedule and three more that might be coming in. I do get lost, I simply lose days in spite of not losing myself. My schedule can change radically at any moment as well. But, I will try.
Tired, so very tired. I hope with being tired and the slightly easier breathing that I might sleep well and long. I so very much need it. And yet I am well pleased with this jumble of necessities and wants I have tended today. I brought clothes and such for a stay, set the cats up, made my appointment, took care of two things for my primary to boot, and then pushed and took care of my breathing a bit. And still I managed to do a return on an item. Yeah, okay, it was a good if brutal day.
Later, or more hopefully, good night.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
A little dab will have to do.
.
.
The sleep I was able to get last evening was all I could muster. It is going to be a very long day. I guess I have to be exhausted enough to overcome forced shallow breathing in order to sleep. I will make that phone call though, and see if the doctor can get medicine arranged for pickup today. Of course, I will make it to my appointment and in time to get a requested chest x-ray and blood work they could not do at the clinic. Some kind of blood gas check was needed and not all blood labs have the equipment, it seems. I suppose leaving here around noon is as close as I get to ensuring all that is needed to be done is completed.
I was surprised when checking the stool height. It seems that the lower one will work the best. I will return the other one today, if I remember on the way back or have time on the way out. I would love to wait another day but the receipt is just as likely to go missing as not, what with a kitten who loves thinks that crinkle when she plays with them and can just as easily get in a pocket as she can jump four feet. Well, that and my native ability to lose things even when they are attached to me. I will be quite ready for sleep by the time I return.
As for the reloader, I am hoping to get that together tomorrow or Thursday. I will be doing so alone, but unlike the desk this should be manageable. If I get something not quite right, I suspect I can just move the device or the desk. I did find a bit more information regarding putting it together and will look for more as well. I can't believe that a schematic with parts number and a bag of loose unlabeled parts is as good as the instructions are, but that is how it seems. For all the fuss, the first load of bullets out of the press and through my barrel should find it all worth the while.
Good luck on your stuff. Good day, too.
.
The sleep I was able to get last evening was all I could muster. It is going to be a very long day. I guess I have to be exhausted enough to overcome forced shallow breathing in order to sleep. I will make that phone call though, and see if the doctor can get medicine arranged for pickup today. Of course, I will make it to my appointment and in time to get a requested chest x-ray and blood work they could not do at the clinic. Some kind of blood gas check was needed and not all blood labs have the equipment, it seems. I suppose leaving here around noon is as close as I get to ensuring all that is needed to be done is completed.
I was surprised when checking the stool height. It seems that the lower one will work the best. I will return the other one today, if I remember on the way back or have time on the way out. I would love to wait another day but the receipt is just as likely to go missing as not, what with a kitten who loves thinks that crinkle when she plays with them and can just as easily get in a pocket as she can jump four feet. Well, that and my native ability to lose things even when they are attached to me. I will be quite ready for sleep by the time I return.
As for the reloader, I am hoping to get that together tomorrow or Thursday. I will be doing so alone, but unlike the desk this should be manageable. If I get something not quite right, I suspect I can just move the device or the desk. I did find a bit more information regarding putting it together and will look for more as well. I can't believe that a schematic with parts number and a bag of loose unlabeled parts is as good as the instructions are, but that is how it seems. For all the fuss, the first load of bullets out of the press and through my barrel should find it all worth the while.
Good luck on your stuff. Good day, too.
Sleep is so very good.
.
.
If I miss it for one reason or another, I either become "thin" like butter spread over too much toast, I become a bit grumpy, or if it goes on too long I simply begin living in a dream-like state. Sometimes all that becomes jumbled into a fine mess. For the last few years I have been doing much better. Sleep has been better, both in regularity and depth, at least compared to my past. But when sleep is interrupted for a physical reason, in this case breathing difficulties, it is not a part of my cycle and becomes more stressful than usual. I was finally able to sleep after my last post. Oh what a delicious thing sleep is, akin to sweet water after a day in the sun without water.
In spite of my problems, since the opportunity is here to function, I am doing so. It is all little stuff, granted. What I do a child could, and is often expected to do, at least when I was a child. But it is more than I have been able to do in some time. And more, really. Not only am I taking the dumpster to the curb, I am bringing it back in a timely fashion. Not only am I starting projects, I am doing little bits as needed to see the thing to completion. And I do, honestly, simply, humbly, thank God, literally, for these meager blessings. All I want to do is work in a way which lends to some belief I have utility. I do need to feel good about what I do rather quickly. Trying to do anything long term is not something I have been able to succeed at for decades. It is not a matter of will or want, it is just the way it is. For now. What cripple does not think there is a way that, tomorrow, the day after, or maybe later still, they will once again "walk"? Even when the medical community gives up on them, a twinge in the lame part can bring a fresh welling of hope, or a want, or a perceived need. While I do have hope, I also know only God could, if He so chose, make me whole, here, now. But that doesn't excuse me from doing what I can when I can.
I did forget to do a couple of things today. I will get them done eventually. I did, in spite of being in some abstract sleep deprived, breathlessness modified, sort of pain get to a few things which are finally tended. I will be checking those stools shortly. If one of them fits, I will at least make a more final decision on the placement of the bench and the reloader on the bench. Perhaps, too, before too long, I may sleep again before my appointment tomorrow. I can never quite make up for lost sleep in a single night, much as dehydration can't be tended by a single drink or even plenty of water over a day.
Later or good night.
.
If I miss it for one reason or another, I either become "thin" like butter spread over too much toast, I become a bit grumpy, or if it goes on too long I simply begin living in a dream-like state. Sometimes all that becomes jumbled into a fine mess. For the last few years I have been doing much better. Sleep has been better, both in regularity and depth, at least compared to my past. But when sleep is interrupted for a physical reason, in this case breathing difficulties, it is not a part of my cycle and becomes more stressful than usual. I was finally able to sleep after my last post. Oh what a delicious thing sleep is, akin to sweet water after a day in the sun without water.
In spite of my problems, since the opportunity is here to function, I am doing so. It is all little stuff, granted. What I do a child could, and is often expected to do, at least when I was a child. But it is more than I have been able to do in some time. And more, really. Not only am I taking the dumpster to the curb, I am bringing it back in a timely fashion. Not only am I starting projects, I am doing little bits as needed to see the thing to completion. And I do, honestly, simply, humbly, thank God, literally, for these meager blessings. All I want to do is work in a way which lends to some belief I have utility. I do need to feel good about what I do rather quickly. Trying to do anything long term is not something I have been able to succeed at for decades. It is not a matter of will or want, it is just the way it is. For now. What cripple does not think there is a way that, tomorrow, the day after, or maybe later still, they will once again "walk"? Even when the medical community gives up on them, a twinge in the lame part can bring a fresh welling of hope, or a want, or a perceived need. While I do have hope, I also know only God could, if He so chose, make me whole, here, now. But that doesn't excuse me from doing what I can when I can.
I did forget to do a couple of things today. I will get them done eventually. I did, in spite of being in some abstract sleep deprived, breathlessness modified, sort of pain get to a few things which are finally tended. I will be checking those stools shortly. If one of them fits, I will at least make a more final decision on the placement of the bench and the reloader on the bench. Perhaps, too, before too long, I may sleep again before my appointment tomorrow. I can never quite make up for lost sleep in a single night, much as dehydration can't be tended by a single drink or even plenty of water over a day.
Later or good night.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Oh, ouch!
.
.
No, no pain as I had been suffering this morning. It is just that I have had to push and shove to... pick up a shoe. Getting it on and the socks before those and dressing between those two, the shower, and just pushing my lump of a corpse out of bed in the first place was only accomplished through sheer terrible force of will. And, actually, that was painful, but in a very different way. I did call off today's appointment, and checked where my appointment is tomorrow. There was something else I was supposed to do but I still can't remember who I was to call or why. I called my friend, but it seems he went out with one of his other friends, he was done for the day. So, I actually could have made the appointment but by then it was too late.
So I decided to go into town and at least buy a stool for the workbench. I could not find an adjustable one I thought would work. The only one available adjusted from 36 to 45 inches. I decided to buy two of different heights to see what works best. I will take the loser back. If I think the really high but variable one would work, I might return them both and trade them for that one.
I also decided to buy a washing machine. I applied for credit to purchase a drier as well. As it turns out, I did not get enough credit to pay for one outright and put the other on credit. I went ahead and bought the washer though, it will be here Friday. I will be using it immediately! I hate parting with money. I did as much research as I could, chose a device with a good stock warranty and extended that warranty, and... it is done.
I am still wheezing. I could not sleep because of it for most of the night, only making it to sleep somewhere a bit past 8:00. Oh, right, I meant to call my doctor about another dose of something or other! Tomorrow. Thank God for tomorrow, and the day after. I will be at the hospital for an appointment tomorrow, perhaps before I go I can my doctor put something into the pharmacy for me. I will try because another day or two of this and I will be in to the emergency room. I will give them a choice of how they want to deal with it.
Well, I need to rest after my foray and shopping spree. I may check the stool that is pre-constructed, but the one I have to mess with if the other is too short, will have to wait for construction and testing. I might actually need to sleep, soon. Ouch. Later or goodnight.
.
No, no pain as I had been suffering this morning. It is just that I have had to push and shove to... pick up a shoe. Getting it on and the socks before those and dressing between those two, the shower, and just pushing my lump of a corpse out of bed in the first place was only accomplished through sheer terrible force of will. And, actually, that was painful, but in a very different way. I did call off today's appointment, and checked where my appointment is tomorrow. There was something else I was supposed to do but I still can't remember who I was to call or why. I called my friend, but it seems he went out with one of his other friends, he was done for the day. So, I actually could have made the appointment but by then it was too late.
So I decided to go into town and at least buy a stool for the workbench. I could not find an adjustable one I thought would work. The only one available adjusted from 36 to 45 inches. I decided to buy two of different heights to see what works best. I will take the loser back. If I think the really high but variable one would work, I might return them both and trade them for that one.
I also decided to buy a washing machine. I applied for credit to purchase a drier as well. As it turns out, I did not get enough credit to pay for one outright and put the other on credit. I went ahead and bought the washer though, it will be here Friday. I will be using it immediately! I hate parting with money. I did as much research as I could, chose a device with a good stock warranty and extended that warranty, and... it is done.
I am still wheezing. I could not sleep because of it for most of the night, only making it to sleep somewhere a bit past 8:00. Oh, right, I meant to call my doctor about another dose of something or other! Tomorrow. Thank God for tomorrow, and the day after. I will be at the hospital for an appointment tomorrow, perhaps before I go I can my doctor put something into the pharmacy for me. I will try because another day or two of this and I will be in to the emergency room. I will give them a choice of how they want to deal with it.
Well, I need to rest after my foray and shopping spree. I may check the stool that is pre-constructed, but the one I have to mess with if the other is too short, will have to wait for construction and testing. I might actually need to sleep, soon. Ouch. Later or goodnight.
What a day.
.
.
I really didn't think I had all that much to offer today. Wheezing like a 30-year chain smoker, all else I have been doing in the last days, and finding myself overwhelmed with projects, chores, purchases, and just a grungy feeling any time I have to pass a nickel to someone I suspect would knowingly misrepresent and sell me poison food just to get my nickel. Beside that, most of the day was dreary, again, again, again. Prospects were slim if hopes were high.
I ended up doing a great deal of work. I cleared the little room to put the work bench into the space, if that is not all put up properly yet. I put the bench in the room and sort of put it where I think it will most likely work best. I installed a couple of wall mounted multi-bin storage units. I then tore the boxes of stuff down and sorted what I would need immediately in setting up and making the reloader function. I also took certain items in and stored them on the shelves of the bench and surrounds, such as reloading manuals, my scales, other parts, and a few other items. Then I opened the case cleaner and put that in there. I put the cage basket together, it separates cases from the cleaning medium. I looked over the reloader itself, and tried to figure out how to put it together. Actually, the instructions simply do not exist. It gives a schematic, with parts listed, but the parts come loose in a bag with no labeling. Still, a bit of hunt and peck will hopefully see the thing work in short order. I also, to a degree, cleaned up after myself and put things into some order, the things that remain in the living room. I was hungry then, and though I would love to have had pizza, between time having snuck past me and my dalliance with television while I tried to recoup or think or something, it was too late to call in an order. So I drove into town and grabbed a burger meal.
Having done that, and well fed, I was drifting toward sleep. I remembered that tomorrow is trash day. Nice, I thought a couple of times, but what does that have to do with me at this point? And of course, this would be the time to clean out the litter boxes. But, again, is that really important as I try to snuggle in and prep for sleep? Well, yes, it was important I finally decided. So, trash was collected and taken out to the dumpster. Being sort of full, I did not want to add litter in that bag. Another bag into the waste basket and dysfunctional litter was put in that, along with a few remnant pieces of trash. Not good enough, so I cleaned the litter mats, swept the surrounds, and disposed of that bit. Then I sprayed the boxes with a bit of Febreze. The dumpster made it to the curb. But just one more thing. (Isn't there always one more thing?) There is some meat I ended up not getting to, due to my kitchen acting as a disaster area. I will take that out to the curb, put it in one of the bags, retie it, and then... maybe then... I can get to bed.
Good night.
.
I really didn't think I had all that much to offer today. Wheezing like a 30-year chain smoker, all else I have been doing in the last days, and finding myself overwhelmed with projects, chores, purchases, and just a grungy feeling any time I have to pass a nickel to someone I suspect would knowingly misrepresent and sell me poison food just to get my nickel. Beside that, most of the day was dreary, again, again, again. Prospects were slim if hopes were high.
I ended up doing a great deal of work. I cleared the little room to put the work bench into the space, if that is not all put up properly yet. I put the bench in the room and sort of put it where I think it will most likely work best. I installed a couple of wall mounted multi-bin storage units. I then tore the boxes of stuff down and sorted what I would need immediately in setting up and making the reloader function. I also took certain items in and stored them on the shelves of the bench and surrounds, such as reloading manuals, my scales, other parts, and a few other items. Then I opened the case cleaner and put that in there. I put the cage basket together, it separates cases from the cleaning medium. I looked over the reloader itself, and tried to figure out how to put it together. Actually, the instructions simply do not exist. It gives a schematic, with parts listed, but the parts come loose in a bag with no labeling. Still, a bit of hunt and peck will hopefully see the thing work in short order. I also, to a degree, cleaned up after myself and put things into some order, the things that remain in the living room. I was hungry then, and though I would love to have had pizza, between time having snuck past me and my dalliance with television while I tried to recoup or think or something, it was too late to call in an order. So I drove into town and grabbed a burger meal.
Having done that, and well fed, I was drifting toward sleep. I remembered that tomorrow is trash day. Nice, I thought a couple of times, but what does that have to do with me at this point? And of course, this would be the time to clean out the litter boxes. But, again, is that really important as I try to snuggle in and prep for sleep? Well, yes, it was important I finally decided. So, trash was collected and taken out to the dumpster. Being sort of full, I did not want to add litter in that bag. Another bag into the waste basket and dysfunctional litter was put in that, along with a few remnant pieces of trash. Not good enough, so I cleaned the litter mats, swept the surrounds, and disposed of that bit. Then I sprayed the boxes with a bit of Febreze. The dumpster made it to the curb. But just one more thing. (Isn't there always one more thing?) There is some meat I ended up not getting to, due to my kitchen acting as a disaster area. I will take that out to the curb, put it in one of the bags, retie it, and then... maybe then... I can get to bed.
Good night.
I do have problems with my house.
.
.
Branches which threaten the power line, and dealing with the trees those branches are attached to is a spooky thing. The washing machine dying is more of an economic strain. Updating the kitchen and one of the bathrooms are more than a bit daunting singularly, but more than doubly so together. The pavement in my driveway needs patching. And I need to repair or replace one garden faucet and put in another. And the things that could go wrong, like the old furnace and water heaters, just add worry to concern. And yet the basics of this house are good, for as little as that may seem (and to the best of my knowledge).
And yet, I look around at the infrastructure of most cities and I realize I am in fine shape, when I compare things. Cities are literally falling apart. Just enough money is spent to bandage infrastructure to limp along a few more years. Bridges, the power and water supplies, roads, and even sidewalks artificially built over all kinds of things, are simply decaying. Beside the lack of any social cohesion, making civil life impossible, I would much rather live here and in what I am living.
I have looked at many of the mansions and the housing of even those who are supposed to be better off. While their houses look impressive, their problems are often grander than their appearance. It seems even serious money does not guarantee quality, not anymore. I am amazed, further, to find that even new constructions for half million dollar and up homes end up with the buyers being stuck with no recourse but to abandon their homes (and credit) or pony up for the repairs if they can or will. Cities, states, inspections, construction companies, and the rest simply walk away once the purchase is made. Even with as many lawyers as they are, for what they are worth, they are busing making real money.
We live at the end of the disposable age. Our wealth was squandered and we chose not to bear enough children to do the work, create the wealth, and think through the problems we are about to face. We are the last product our disposable society has to deal with. It is an amazing time, things will change and it has to be for the worse. We have no means or progeny to maintain, let alone improve, our nation. Who knows, when it is all said and settled, perhaps even the Mexicans won't want the remnants. They will have to rebuild cities away from the graves of ours. They will have to recreate the capital for creating wealth our leaders have forced overseas. And they will have to fight through a barbaric people who will have to be conquered to do so.
I am simply amazed to see what is about to happen and to know that only one of two things can help. Either we will eventually live under martial law with FEMA and the Corps of Engineerings dictating where people can live, and how, until sanity can be restored. And then they will be quite reluctant or even incapable of restoring rights. Or, we will simply fall back to the wilderness we had thought we tamed and become the barbarians we thought we had conquered. Amazing indeed.
I guess you just have to have the correct perspective to put things into their proper place. My problems are small, if our problems are reaching a climax. That isn't the point though. Wherever you find yourself is where you begin. Blind before, perhaps, but blind no more (at least when the world falls from under your feet and possibly quite literally). Then again, for me, each day is already a trial. I am used to living in a necropolis, of sorts. I have seen the worst, done some harsh things... I am used to what most of you can only imagine but will soon come to know as well. I wish I could say it was not so.
Anyway, tomorrow is good weather. I have not yet rescheduled my appointment, but will do so. As well, I plan to buy a stool, get my reloader together and functioning, and go shooting. I have looked over the instructions for the reloader, by the way. It should be rather straight forward as most of it is already constructed. I will enjoy tomorrow as if it was my first good day, or last. And then I will do what I can in the days to follow, knowing that much of this life I lead is about to fail or end. And so it will go for the rest of my days.
Remember to let those you love know you love them and then forget you read this. Good night.
.
Branches which threaten the power line, and dealing with the trees those branches are attached to is a spooky thing. The washing machine dying is more of an economic strain. Updating the kitchen and one of the bathrooms are more than a bit daunting singularly, but more than doubly so together. The pavement in my driveway needs patching. And I need to repair or replace one garden faucet and put in another. And the things that could go wrong, like the old furnace and water heaters, just add worry to concern. And yet the basics of this house are good, for as little as that may seem (and to the best of my knowledge).
And yet, I look around at the infrastructure of most cities and I realize I am in fine shape, when I compare things. Cities are literally falling apart. Just enough money is spent to bandage infrastructure to limp along a few more years. Bridges, the power and water supplies, roads, and even sidewalks artificially built over all kinds of things, are simply decaying. Beside the lack of any social cohesion, making civil life impossible, I would much rather live here and in what I am living.
I have looked at many of the mansions and the housing of even those who are supposed to be better off. While their houses look impressive, their problems are often grander than their appearance. It seems even serious money does not guarantee quality, not anymore. I am amazed, further, to find that even new constructions for half million dollar and up homes end up with the buyers being stuck with no recourse but to abandon their homes (and credit) or pony up for the repairs if they can or will. Cities, states, inspections, construction companies, and the rest simply walk away once the purchase is made. Even with as many lawyers as they are, for what they are worth, they are busing making real money.
We live at the end of the disposable age. Our wealth was squandered and we chose not to bear enough children to do the work, create the wealth, and think through the problems we are about to face. We are the last product our disposable society has to deal with. It is an amazing time, things will change and it has to be for the worse. We have no means or progeny to maintain, let alone improve, our nation. Who knows, when it is all said and settled, perhaps even the Mexicans won't want the remnants. They will have to rebuild cities away from the graves of ours. They will have to recreate the capital for creating wealth our leaders have forced overseas. And they will have to fight through a barbaric people who will have to be conquered to do so.
I am simply amazed to see what is about to happen and to know that only one of two things can help. Either we will eventually live under martial law with FEMA and the Corps of Engineerings dictating where people can live, and how, until sanity can be restored. And then they will be quite reluctant or even incapable of restoring rights. Or, we will simply fall back to the wilderness we had thought we tamed and become the barbarians we thought we had conquered. Amazing indeed.
I guess you just have to have the correct perspective to put things into their proper place. My problems are small, if our problems are reaching a climax. That isn't the point though. Wherever you find yourself is where you begin. Blind before, perhaps, but blind no more (at least when the world falls from under your feet and possibly quite literally). Then again, for me, each day is already a trial. I am used to living in a necropolis, of sorts. I have seen the worst, done some harsh things... I am used to what most of you can only imagine but will soon come to know as well. I wish I could say it was not so.
Anyway, tomorrow is good weather. I have not yet rescheduled my appointment, but will do so. As well, I plan to buy a stool, get my reloader together and functioning, and go shooting. I have looked over the instructions for the reloader, by the way. It should be rather straight forward as most of it is already constructed. I will enjoy tomorrow as if it was my first good day, or last. And then I will do what I can in the days to follow, knowing that much of this life I lead is about to fail or end. And so it will go for the rest of my days.
Remember to let those you love know you love them and then forget you read this. Good night.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
How can you be sure?
.
.
I have gotten everything out of the room and put the workbench in. I have installed a couple of wall mounted utility storage units. I seem to have lost my tall stools, though, so I really can't tell if I have the desk where I want it or where I will want to set up the reloader on the desk. The possibilities regarding space, requirements, and wants with regards to placement are extensive. I would guess there is more than one good answer or even excellent solution. However, without something to sit on and a bit more checking using the parts and a dry setup, I am simply guessing where everything not only could but more should go.
What I need to do next is to find a tall, adjustable, work stool. I am thinking something along the lines of those padded steel stools I remember from wood shop classes. Until I get one, doing more actual work setting things up is unwise. Tomorrow will see me buying one of those. I will do some prep work though yet tonight. I will be reviewing the instructions for putting the main machine together. I have taken the mounting pieces, a separate and "deluxe" component, into the room. The actual reloader is a minor engineering marvel, but one of the good parts of the design was a relatively reasonable means of constructing it and using it. I did purchase a replacement component package, so if I mess up I will not have a long wait for a replacement piece. I am more sure about this part of the process than what I have done to date.
Amazing! I am actually getting to things. I have had to move slowly, more so today, due to losing my breath from carrying even a moderate load and a lot of what I was doing dealt with moving moderate loads. I almost started to wonder if I would ever get to any of this or if it would all pile up and I would die with a bunch of unopened boxes, unused tools, and plans all over the place. I really started to wonder if I could even move. Here I am, barely able to breath, getting it done. Amazing!
On to some reading and perhaps playing with knots. I am so hungry though too. My kitchen has been a mess since before I began working on the bench in it, and now has both the old mess and the new mess. No cooking is possible until I finish installing and getting the reloader working, as doing that requires about everything I have. So, I might have to go through a drive-through or order a pizza for pick-up. I haven't had a pizza in a very long time and that would be enough food for a couple of days. It is Sunday, so I would guess only Dominoes or worse would be open. Ah well. At least a pizza would provide a couple days of meals.
.
I have gotten everything out of the room and put the workbench in. I have installed a couple of wall mounted utility storage units. I seem to have lost my tall stools, though, so I really can't tell if I have the desk where I want it or where I will want to set up the reloader on the desk. The possibilities regarding space, requirements, and wants with regards to placement are extensive. I would guess there is more than one good answer or even excellent solution. However, without something to sit on and a bit more checking using the parts and a dry setup, I am simply guessing where everything not only could but more should go.
What I need to do next is to find a tall, adjustable, work stool. I am thinking something along the lines of those padded steel stools I remember from wood shop classes. Until I get one, doing more actual work setting things up is unwise. Tomorrow will see me buying one of those. I will do some prep work though yet tonight. I will be reviewing the instructions for putting the main machine together. I have taken the mounting pieces, a separate and "deluxe" component, into the room. The actual reloader is a minor engineering marvel, but one of the good parts of the design was a relatively reasonable means of constructing it and using it. I did purchase a replacement component package, so if I mess up I will not have a long wait for a replacement piece. I am more sure about this part of the process than what I have done to date.
Amazing! I am actually getting to things. I have had to move slowly, more so today, due to losing my breath from carrying even a moderate load and a lot of what I was doing dealt with moving moderate loads. I almost started to wonder if I would ever get to any of this or if it would all pile up and I would die with a bunch of unopened boxes, unused tools, and plans all over the place. I really started to wonder if I could even move. Here I am, barely able to breath, getting it done. Amazing!
On to some reading and perhaps playing with knots. I am so hungry though too. My kitchen has been a mess since before I began working on the bench in it, and now has both the old mess and the new mess. No cooking is possible until I finish installing and getting the reloader working, as doing that requires about everything I have. So, I might have to go through a drive-through or order a pizza for pick-up. I haven't had a pizza in a very long time and that would be enough food for a couple of days. It is Sunday, so I would guess only Dominoes or worse would be open. Ah well. At least a pizza would provide a couple days of meals.
Reflections from the nether.
.
.
(or, What comes to mind while doing my duty without reading material.)
I just realized that I have a problem that runs throughout much of my life and impacts projects, chores, and other tasks. I seek perfection. I am not so sure I would call it perfectionism, though it might be or perhaps is simply a kissing cousin of some sort to it. I think what interested me, initially, about electrical engineering was the idea that electrons and the equipment which uses those are digital. Digital, in theory, is discrete, exact, quantities of matter which act in a rather exact way. Scaling is simple, more digits (give or take). As defined by my understanding in a rough limited manner, but enough for a place to bring a reader in.
After reading history, this reminds me of the same revolution which brought about the metric system. It was the secular French Revolution to be exact. This revolution also brought many other changes, actually undoing much of culture, religious belief, and law. From a complete calender revision to every aspect of life, these perfectionists who lead the revolution attempted to correct everything. The most notable change that lasted is the metric system. The measurement the meter was based upon was a measurement that was incorrect, by the way. I do not know if that has ever been corrected. What I realized from this was that the patients of the Church to the imperfections of life was wiser than some fool, like the revolutionaries or myself, trying to make perfect sense, take perfect measures, or to lead perfect lives. And still it is there, this need for things to be simple (albeit through sometimes extremely complex (improbable) theories and givens and measures and sums).
When I was working on the bench, I had a notion of how it should all fit. The instructions were quite simple. The measurements were straight forward. It should have been simple to take raw goods and produce and exact system, as prescribed. I knew, of course, that using wood already made that a bit off, but of course this was dealt with through the design of the solid components. And I knew that without precise cutting and measuring tools, the thing might end up messy anyway. I did not even note the possibility of mistakes, especially with two people doing various things on the project. In the end, all of those things became a factor, and still the thing went together well enough that no one will know, not upon casual inspection or by function.
It was the notion of perfection, regardless of my conscious considerations, that made getting to the project daunting. Nothing is perfect or even truly standard, not even digital mechanics. Everything that goes into making digital appear perfect makes that seeming perfection more of a dream than a reality for most. Beyond that, the perfection for those who can seemingly know it, when viewed at the correct aspect, disappears and is once again replaced by the reality of imperfection. Such a large thing, imperfection, to overcome in order to achieve.
Why all this fuss about this and that? Ah, because I realize, as I dig through the imperfections to develop something from nothing (or even a desk from components), that wisdom is to be found and that idealism does indeed fail in the face of simple, humble, creative, effort. Even when that effort is carried out with the realization that perfection can't be had, perhaps more so because of the realization. Something I knew, or believed, after reviewing the history of some long past mostly forgotten revolution and yet had failed to be able to implement in my secular life. It is odd how we fight God, even when we know He is right. Even when we believe in His wisdom. Even now, even on this, even in me, the war continues to wage. How... odd.
Then again and too, what I just wrote is the summation of a few moments, less than a minute, less than twenty seconds, only a few seconds actually, of thought. Imagine if I wrote the full version, or even the full version of a full day of such thought. So many revisions and corrections as I think through things, logic dead ends and mazes which must be navigated as I explore an area or corollary or such. Thinking does occupy my time. Less thinking, more doing, I suppose. My limits should expand in the doing?
Well, back to getting ready to do something... in theory.
.
(or, What comes to mind while doing my duty without reading material.)
I just realized that I have a problem that runs throughout much of my life and impacts projects, chores, and other tasks. I seek perfection. I am not so sure I would call it perfectionism, though it might be or perhaps is simply a kissing cousin of some sort to it. I think what interested me, initially, about electrical engineering was the idea that electrons and the equipment which uses those are digital. Digital, in theory, is discrete, exact, quantities of matter which act in a rather exact way. Scaling is simple, more digits (give or take). As defined by my understanding in a rough limited manner, but enough for a place to bring a reader in.
After reading history, this reminds me of the same revolution which brought about the metric system. It was the secular French Revolution to be exact. This revolution also brought many other changes, actually undoing much of culture, religious belief, and law. From a complete calender revision to every aspect of life, these perfectionists who lead the revolution attempted to correct everything. The most notable change that lasted is the metric system. The measurement the meter was based upon was a measurement that was incorrect, by the way. I do not know if that has ever been corrected. What I realized from this was that the patients of the Church to the imperfections of life was wiser than some fool, like the revolutionaries or myself, trying to make perfect sense, take perfect measures, or to lead perfect lives. And still it is there, this need for things to be simple (albeit through sometimes extremely complex (improbable) theories and givens and measures and sums).
When I was working on the bench, I had a notion of how it should all fit. The instructions were quite simple. The measurements were straight forward. It should have been simple to take raw goods and produce and exact system, as prescribed. I knew, of course, that using wood already made that a bit off, but of course this was dealt with through the design of the solid components. And I knew that without precise cutting and measuring tools, the thing might end up messy anyway. I did not even note the possibility of mistakes, especially with two people doing various things on the project. In the end, all of those things became a factor, and still the thing went together well enough that no one will know, not upon casual inspection or by function.
It was the notion of perfection, regardless of my conscious considerations, that made getting to the project daunting. Nothing is perfect or even truly standard, not even digital mechanics. Everything that goes into making digital appear perfect makes that seeming perfection more of a dream than a reality for most. Beyond that, the perfection for those who can seemingly know it, when viewed at the correct aspect, disappears and is once again replaced by the reality of imperfection. Such a large thing, imperfection, to overcome in order to achieve.
Why all this fuss about this and that? Ah, because I realize, as I dig through the imperfections to develop something from nothing (or even a desk from components), that wisdom is to be found and that idealism does indeed fail in the face of simple, humble, creative, effort. Even when that effort is carried out with the realization that perfection can't be had, perhaps more so because of the realization. Something I knew, or believed, after reviewing the history of some long past mostly forgotten revolution and yet had failed to be able to implement in my secular life. It is odd how we fight God, even when we know He is right. Even when we believe in His wisdom. Even now, even on this, even in me, the war continues to wage. How... odd.
Then again and too, what I just wrote is the summation of a few moments, less than a minute, less than twenty seconds, only a few seconds actually, of thought. Imagine if I wrote the full version, or even the full version of a full day of such thought. So many revisions and corrections as I think through things, logic dead ends and mazes which must be navigated as I explore an area or corollary or such. Thinking does occupy my time. Less thinking, more doing, I suppose. My limits should expand in the doing?
Well, back to getting ready to do something... in theory.
There is always good and bad.
.
.
The bad, today, is that breathing is very difficult. Breathing for me reminds me of when I have had way too much weight on my chest. If it gets worse I will most likely go to the hospital. I am having to work at breathing at times. The good, for whatever reason, I am sleeping very well and waking without pain. I would actually gladly change back to poor sleep and waking with pain for thoughtless breathing. We don't get such choices.
By the way, have you noticed I have been using contractions? I decided that, since this blog is just about projects and mundane life, using contractions would be fine. I actually have to work at remembering to use them. I use them in speech but I haven't used them in this blog, my only form of writing, in quite some time. I suppose it isn't noticed? I was simply curious if it made any difference to readers or was noticed. As I said when I quit using contractions, I didn't mind contractions but I did see them as a more informal manner of communication. Then again, is there anything formal anymore? Of course, using one formal technique didn't make my writing truly formal. It was merely a nod to formality.
I hope to get the room the reloader is to go in cleared and get the bench in today. Further, I hope to have the parts of the reloader and associated gear I will need to assemble the devices and my supplies arranged to begin installing and using the things. And if I can get a few steps beyond that, I would like to read the instructions for setup, decided where I want the devices placed on the bench or in the area (for the case cleaner), and maybe begin setting it all up. I will swear to nothing. Having awakened only a few hours ago, and nearly gasping for air in order to pass gas, leaves me dubious about any great accomplishments. Sometimes I work best when oppressed by flesh or foe though, so nothing is ever sure or truly out of the question.
The sun is gone and it is either spitting rain or snow from time to time. While it does make for a handsome day, handsome in this case has grown wearisome. Tomorrow should be better and I hope to enjoy the promised sun and warmth. Sam has been so kind lately, and even Sassy has matured to the point where she is more like a friend than (even more of a) child. That is no snark on cats, or even about women, as I too am often enough childish. Snuggling for a bit then going on their way, only to return, in turns, for mutual attention, my cats and I enjoy these days and times regardless of what else is going on. There is, of course, that. And that is no small thing. Love and companionship from animals is much as the love I have known from most humans I have known and loved, neither better nor worse. Only a wife (or a woman I could call my own, from my more secular times), and I suppose children (as I know none I may have fathered and have none otherwise), could offer something more.
Have a good day.
.
The bad, today, is that breathing is very difficult. Breathing for me reminds me of when I have had way too much weight on my chest. If it gets worse I will most likely go to the hospital. I am having to work at breathing at times. The good, for whatever reason, I am sleeping very well and waking without pain. I would actually gladly change back to poor sleep and waking with pain for thoughtless breathing. We don't get such choices.
By the way, have you noticed I have been using contractions? I decided that, since this blog is just about projects and mundane life, using contractions would be fine. I actually have to work at remembering to use them. I use them in speech but I haven't used them in this blog, my only form of writing, in quite some time. I suppose it isn't noticed? I was simply curious if it made any difference to readers or was noticed. As I said when I quit using contractions, I didn't mind contractions but I did see them as a more informal manner of communication. Then again, is there anything formal anymore? Of course, using one formal technique didn't make my writing truly formal. It was merely a nod to formality.
I hope to get the room the reloader is to go in cleared and get the bench in today. Further, I hope to have the parts of the reloader and associated gear I will need to assemble the devices and my supplies arranged to begin installing and using the things. And if I can get a few steps beyond that, I would like to read the instructions for setup, decided where I want the devices placed on the bench or in the area (for the case cleaner), and maybe begin setting it all up. I will swear to nothing. Having awakened only a few hours ago, and nearly gasping for air in order to pass gas, leaves me dubious about any great accomplishments. Sometimes I work best when oppressed by flesh or foe though, so nothing is ever sure or truly out of the question.
The sun is gone and it is either spitting rain or snow from time to time. While it does make for a handsome day, handsome in this case has grown wearisome. Tomorrow should be better and I hope to enjoy the promised sun and warmth. Sam has been so kind lately, and even Sassy has matured to the point where she is more like a friend than (even more of a) child. That is no snark on cats, or even about women, as I too am often enough childish. Snuggling for a bit then going on their way, only to return, in turns, for mutual attention, my cats and I enjoy these days and times regardless of what else is going on. There is, of course, that. And that is no small thing. Love and companionship from animals is much as the love I have known from most humans I have known and loved, neither better nor worse. Only a wife (or a woman I could call my own, from my more secular times), and I suppose children (as I know none I may have fathered and have none otherwise), could offer something more.
Have a good day.
It worked.
.
.
It took both clamps and some help, but the hutch is together. Perfection was not to be had. I had to adjust this, push past that, and get it together as I could. I ended up needing the drill, circular saw, and finished it off with the random orbit sander. I did a lot of measuring and added finishing nails when all was said and done. And, really, it is just fine. It is flat and solid. Given what it is made of, it looks fine. It also took quite a bit longer than it should have and far longer than I had hoped it would.
Tomorrow I hope to get it placed and begin reading the instructions for the reloader. I had something scheduled for Monday. With the weather set to be sunny and warm, I am going to reschedule that and go shooting. I need to get out. What a long winter this has been. We actually received some snow today, just enough to see it and get a little frazzled down here in the valley. And it was a mostly sunny day! After shooting, I will have my friend over to work on whatever is left either installing or setting up my reloader. I do have to consider another purchase as well. A shop stool would make using the reloader a much smoother process. Hmm, maybe not. I do have some high wooden stools, though I can't adjust the height with those. I will definitely check before buying.
I have been playing with rope and practicing knots. I did find the system the guys at the sports store worked out, in one of my books. As well there are several other similar systems. Knowing one a bit better will allow me to try and get that set up as soon as weather allows, and having the book will give me a much better idea of how to tweak or change the system around to see which works best for me. I am tired and breathing is still beating me up, but I just have to take advantage of the good weather when it happens.
Finally getting this together is a small feather in my cap. There is the hope that this will lead me to other work. As I work on tree climbing slowly, I can do some painting and the coop roof. I can probably also find other things to do, including plant. Outdoor planting is not quite yet advisable. We had a hard freeze just yesterday or the night before. Bit by bit, I will get these things settled. I realize now, being a homeowner, probably like being a parent, is a matter of getting things settled so when the inevitable next drama (or group of them) hits, I can be dealing with that in as rested a form as possible.
The highs are much higher, but the lows are grinding, expensive, time consuming, humbling, or some or all of those all at once. The value of that depends on what you want. Sure, I am not paying someone rent, but then again I am responsible for all expenses, only some of what I am paying is going toward the debt (1/3 or less for the first five years or something?), and I can't just move (without pretty severe penalties). Choose your poison. Just because one poison might be smoother, it is just as bad. I'll take home ownership, thank you.
It is bedtime. Good night.
.
It took both clamps and some help, but the hutch is together. Perfection was not to be had. I had to adjust this, push past that, and get it together as I could. I ended up needing the drill, circular saw, and finished it off with the random orbit sander. I did a lot of measuring and added finishing nails when all was said and done. And, really, it is just fine. It is flat and solid. Given what it is made of, it looks fine. It also took quite a bit longer than it should have and far longer than I had hoped it would.
Tomorrow I hope to get it placed and begin reading the instructions for the reloader. I had something scheduled for Monday. With the weather set to be sunny and warm, I am going to reschedule that and go shooting. I need to get out. What a long winter this has been. We actually received some snow today, just enough to see it and get a little frazzled down here in the valley. And it was a mostly sunny day! After shooting, I will have my friend over to work on whatever is left either installing or setting up my reloader. I do have to consider another purchase as well. A shop stool would make using the reloader a much smoother process. Hmm, maybe not. I do have some high wooden stools, though I can't adjust the height with those. I will definitely check before buying.
I have been playing with rope and practicing knots. I did find the system the guys at the sports store worked out, in one of my books. As well there are several other similar systems. Knowing one a bit better will allow me to try and get that set up as soon as weather allows, and having the book will give me a much better idea of how to tweak or change the system around to see which works best for me. I am tired and breathing is still beating me up, but I just have to take advantage of the good weather when it happens.
Finally getting this together is a small feather in my cap. There is the hope that this will lead me to other work. As I work on tree climbing slowly, I can do some painting and the coop roof. I can probably also find other things to do, including plant. Outdoor planting is not quite yet advisable. We had a hard freeze just yesterday or the night before. Bit by bit, I will get these things settled. I realize now, being a homeowner, probably like being a parent, is a matter of getting things settled so when the inevitable next drama (or group of them) hits, I can be dealing with that in as rested a form as possible.
The highs are much higher, but the lows are grinding, expensive, time consuming, humbling, or some or all of those all at once. The value of that depends on what you want. Sure, I am not paying someone rent, but then again I am responsible for all expenses, only some of what I am paying is going toward the debt (1/3 or less for the first five years or something?), and I can't just move (without pretty severe penalties). Choose your poison. Just because one poison might be smoother, it is just as bad. I'll take home ownership, thank you.
It is bedtime. Good night.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Well...
.
.
I wasn't sure what I was going to do, wanted to do, or such today. But my friend just called and wants to get to it, or go shooting. It almost looks like the weather might be closing in again, so I suggested we work on the bench. If we finish that quickly enough, perhaps we can still go shooting. I figure I can simply use my .22's and use the .357 ammo I bought from my friend (it hurt his hand to shoot and he didn't want to just... dump it or attempt to re-reload it all). Breathing is simply difficult and now regularly difficult. Rather than coming and going, it is simply the way of it for now. Meh, I'll work through it. It does give me something to complain about.
I best hit it. It would be cool to get the bench together and put in place and then go shooting too! Just to get out and about is a pleasure for me. Have a good day. Oh, and... get busy!
Later.
.
I wasn't sure what I was going to do, wanted to do, or such today. But my friend just called and wants to get to it, or go shooting. It almost looks like the weather might be closing in again, so I suggested we work on the bench. If we finish that quickly enough, perhaps we can still go shooting. I figure I can simply use my .22's and use the .357 ammo I bought from my friend (it hurt his hand to shoot and he didn't want to just... dump it or attempt to re-reload it all). Breathing is simply difficult and now regularly difficult. Rather than coming and going, it is simply the way of it for now. Meh, I'll work through it. It does give me something to complain about.
I best hit it. It would be cool to get the bench together and put in place and then go shooting too! Just to get out and about is a pleasure for me. Have a good day. Oh, and... get busy!
Later.
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