.
.
I hope I can keep the sleep to a minimum. I know I will need a bit before trying to head out for the three appointments and the long drive. While the drive can be frustrating, with slow drivers or truckers blocking the passing lanes, faster drivers taking extreme risks when passing, and the general dissatisfaction of not being able to use cruise (saves on gas, and nerves, when I can use it), when I park I am done with the frustration. I don't keep some things like that around, as I have seen others do.
A load is about finished in the dryer. No dishes were cleaned. I did review a few sites regarding flooring and a kitchen island. I also looked for a lawyer regarding some issues with my home. Actually, I am not sure if a real estate lawyer or a contract lawyer is who I should be calling. And it doesn't look like a junk yard dog is to be had as a lawyer, from what I have seen. I doubt if much, as I had suggested, will be done tomorrow. I might be able to do some shopping. If I do rise easily and well, I might even be able to add some money to my account here. The rest of the phone calls will have to wait until Thursday, as will form filling and sending.
I do think those things will be done. With a slightly elevated sleep platform and the use of aspirin, life has suddenly opened up. I might be able to work my days and nights around again. And yet, pushing too hard will only take me right back to where I was. But with no required outings after this small list is tended until midweek next week, I might be able to mow before the weekend. If nothing else it would be one fewer items weighing on my mind.
Good night.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Just because...
.
.
I am not sure what the new health issues fully entail. So I can think about things a bit, if nothing else to get my mind off of the elephant in the room. While a complete kitchen renovation is out, almost no matter what happens due to time and money in even the most optimistic of scenarios, I can imagine doing some things to my home. Of course, even that is a bit tempered. Why invest money and time into a home I will not live in long enough to build wealth enough to receive a return, as things were once considered? Then again, if I will be here for even a few more years, why not do an improvement I would immensely enjoy so long as the upgrade doesn't impinge on my family. I need to make sure I save enough that travel and my final costs are taken care of with my money.
One of the things I keep considering is a kitchen island. No, not just a flat surface upon which to cut meat and vegetables, if that is also a large part of it. What I have in mind is an area with a gas stove top (easily attached, since the kitchen is right above the furnace, though that work would have to be subcontracted), a sink, and maybe a dining area, all in one chunk of island. Sure, a little fancy, but it would make the kitchen I have so much more functional and enjoyable. As is, part of my problem with keeping up with the kitchen cleaning is that I have to fight for every square inch of work space, and many of the design features are not relevant to my style of cooking (or cleaning).
The problem with this project, and of course there are always problems, is that the flooring is both old and uneven. I would have to consider stripping the current flooring down to the subflooring, looking that over and possibly doing some rebuilding, using one of several leveling products, then building a new level top flooring surface. While definitely a price consideration, with a little bit of ingenuity, elbow grease, and a little prudence in materials, I believe that could be done. Further, it would add to the kitchen with regards to function and pleasure of use in my own time, should my time be more than a few years. As to adding to value... by now, we should all know that little will add to the actual value (or should I say price?) of a home, save using solid gold and silver construction materials. Prices, everywhere, will either stay level or decrease for the foreseeable future, with rare exceptions. No, this is about adding something for myself and perhaps the next owners. Any improvements are a net loss, as is mere maintenance. But like home ownership itself, for me, it is not an economic consideration mostly (if ownership does save by being less than rent).
This might all be a pipe-dream, for all I know I have a very short time. And yet, I can't help but dream a little dream. Looking at diy sites, reviewing materials, techniques, and ideas, viewing pictures of completed projects, just to say I am doing something else beside simply considering health. I now have many, if not quite all, of the tools needed. I even have some limited experience and successful ones at that. Actually, I spend only what time is required regarding health, and then on peripherally. The crux of the problem seems to be a problem without a solution, so it is difficult to engage. He said, she said, while I drown in lung juice. Bah! Well, on to more research.
.
I am not sure what the new health issues fully entail. So I can think about things a bit, if nothing else to get my mind off of the elephant in the room. While a complete kitchen renovation is out, almost no matter what happens due to time and money in even the most optimistic of scenarios, I can imagine doing some things to my home. Of course, even that is a bit tempered. Why invest money and time into a home I will not live in long enough to build wealth enough to receive a return, as things were once considered? Then again, if I will be here for even a few more years, why not do an improvement I would immensely enjoy so long as the upgrade doesn't impinge on my family. I need to make sure I save enough that travel and my final costs are taken care of with my money.
One of the things I keep considering is a kitchen island. No, not just a flat surface upon which to cut meat and vegetables, if that is also a large part of it. What I have in mind is an area with a gas stove top (easily attached, since the kitchen is right above the furnace, though that work would have to be subcontracted), a sink, and maybe a dining area, all in one chunk of island. Sure, a little fancy, but it would make the kitchen I have so much more functional and enjoyable. As is, part of my problem with keeping up with the kitchen cleaning is that I have to fight for every square inch of work space, and many of the design features are not relevant to my style of cooking (or cleaning).
The problem with this project, and of course there are always problems, is that the flooring is both old and uneven. I would have to consider stripping the current flooring down to the subflooring, looking that over and possibly doing some rebuilding, using one of several leveling products, then building a new level top flooring surface. While definitely a price consideration, with a little bit of ingenuity, elbow grease, and a little prudence in materials, I believe that could be done. Further, it would add to the kitchen with regards to function and pleasure of use in my own time, should my time be more than a few years. As to adding to value... by now, we should all know that little will add to the actual value (or should I say price?) of a home, save using solid gold and silver construction materials. Prices, everywhere, will either stay level or decrease for the foreseeable future, with rare exceptions. No, this is about adding something for myself and perhaps the next owners. Any improvements are a net loss, as is mere maintenance. But like home ownership itself, for me, it is not an economic consideration mostly (if ownership does save by being less than rent).
This might all be a pipe-dream, for all I know I have a very short time. And yet, I can't help but dream a little dream. Looking at diy sites, reviewing materials, techniques, and ideas, viewing pictures of completed projects, just to say I am doing something else beside simply considering health. I now have many, if not quite all, of the tools needed. I even have some limited experience and successful ones at that. Actually, I spend only what time is required regarding health, and then on peripherally. The crux of the problem seems to be a problem without a solution, so it is difficult to engage. He said, she said, while I drown in lung juice. Bah! Well, on to more research.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Just a few things can really make it easy.
.
.
Along with painkillers, raising my bed using two stacks of two 2x4s made for very easy sleep. I honestly didn't think such a minor elevation would do anything. I also doubted stability. Still, that I ran with it at my first real opportunity should also say something. Doubting is fine, never trying is something else entirely. I don't just sit and huddle with my misery. I seek solutions, listen to advice, and take every bit of it that I can. I implement, shuffle, work with what I can, and try to simplify things. Anyone who doubts that simply hasn't been paying attention (though I give them credit for doubting!).
A good long easy sleep, from about 14:00 until 22:00, and easier than I can remember awakening, a few more pain pills, and I am hoping to do some laundry and dishes yet tonight. My mind, eased and cleared by a lack of pain, pain I had not realized existed, will offer opportunity. Like all things opportunity, my native ability to grasp that is only ever slightly better or worse. But, it does exist. Beyond taking care of a few tasks, my hope is to get back to sleep for a few hours before having to leave for my appointments. Due to my recent situation regarding sleep, I will use two alarm clocks to try and ensure I rise in time.
So much is happening in the world of news. To put it bluntly, most of it seems to be political shifts being created through exposures of what had been status quo. People are being destroyed or built up. A few are finding the tepid waters of politics past are no longer in play. Everybody is lighting fires here there and everywhere just to see the reaction. Republicans, by now, have to realize the Dems are only first, house cleaning is also coming to a roost near them. The revolt has started and it is remaining a thing within the political arena.
I am not sure if politicians, of any stripe, can't or won't change. Many of them are talking the talk but failing in the walking section that comes next. Have they sold out and simply can't buy their way free? Do they think we will simply forget, or after being betrayed often enough will merely roll like we always have? I can see that some of them are quite torn. Most of them are quite afraid. How can they keep eating their cake and having it to with such an "unreasonable" electorate? Frightened. You can only have one master, and most of them have chosen a master which has nothing to do with electing them. Even women seem to be voting against their nature, leaving blacks as the only group which continues to vote for more, harder, faster, of the same.
Who knows. I still do not know if this is all a flash in the pan. Lots of smoke, a boom, and... And what? After Dems are further annihilated, if we see Reps being tossed, we will know. Even then, it will take months of Sundays, not a few election cycles. Retraining through attrition of the political class. Some things to look for in success? Term limits. Hard, solid, unavoidable spending caps (constitutional amendment type), destruction of whole departments in the government and an end to departmental legislative power, a reduction in all tax bases as well as an extreme simplification (such as and preferably a flat tax all HAVE TO PAY), and an end and destruction of most "civil rights", quotas, and such. Of course, politicians currently seem stuck on having a difficult time cutting $350m from spending, so... don't hold your breath. But... don't give up. Not ever. This nation IS worth the fight, or... was.
I don't know. With news of a man and woman of similar age who live as mother and "baby", who live on SSI, where he drives and builds his cribs and dresses correctly when in public, I am not sure... if the nation can be saved. He says he will commit suicide if his "income" is cut? Cut it, I want pictures. As for me, at this point? Cut me, I'll just go live under a bridge or something. When a nation surrenders to suicide, it will most surely surrender to suicide bombers (or put them on SSI). Frag!
.
Along with painkillers, raising my bed using two stacks of two 2x4s made for very easy sleep. I honestly didn't think such a minor elevation would do anything. I also doubted stability. Still, that I ran with it at my first real opportunity should also say something. Doubting is fine, never trying is something else entirely. I don't just sit and huddle with my misery. I seek solutions, listen to advice, and take every bit of it that I can. I implement, shuffle, work with what I can, and try to simplify things. Anyone who doubts that simply hasn't been paying attention (though I give them credit for doubting!).
A good long easy sleep, from about 14:00 until 22:00, and easier than I can remember awakening, a few more pain pills, and I am hoping to do some laundry and dishes yet tonight. My mind, eased and cleared by a lack of pain, pain I had not realized existed, will offer opportunity. Like all things opportunity, my native ability to grasp that is only ever slightly better or worse. But, it does exist. Beyond taking care of a few tasks, my hope is to get back to sleep for a few hours before having to leave for my appointments. Due to my recent situation regarding sleep, I will use two alarm clocks to try and ensure I rise in time.
So much is happening in the world of news. To put it bluntly, most of it seems to be political shifts being created through exposures of what had been status quo. People are being destroyed or built up. A few are finding the tepid waters of politics past are no longer in play. Everybody is lighting fires here there and everywhere just to see the reaction. Republicans, by now, have to realize the Dems are only first, house cleaning is also coming to a roost near them. The revolt has started and it is remaining a thing within the political arena.
I am not sure if politicians, of any stripe, can't or won't change. Many of them are talking the talk but failing in the walking section that comes next. Have they sold out and simply can't buy their way free? Do they think we will simply forget, or after being betrayed often enough will merely roll like we always have? I can see that some of them are quite torn. Most of them are quite afraid. How can they keep eating their cake and having it to with such an "unreasonable" electorate? Frightened. You can only have one master, and most of them have chosen a master which has nothing to do with electing them. Even women seem to be voting against their nature, leaving blacks as the only group which continues to vote for more, harder, faster, of the same.
Who knows. I still do not know if this is all a flash in the pan. Lots of smoke, a boom, and... And what? After Dems are further annihilated, if we see Reps being tossed, we will know. Even then, it will take months of Sundays, not a few election cycles. Retraining through attrition of the political class. Some things to look for in success? Term limits. Hard, solid, unavoidable spending caps (constitutional amendment type), destruction of whole departments in the government and an end to departmental legislative power, a reduction in all tax bases as well as an extreme simplification (such as and preferably a flat tax all HAVE TO PAY), and an end and destruction of most "civil rights", quotas, and such. Of course, politicians currently seem stuck on having a difficult time cutting $350m from spending, so... don't hold your breath. But... don't give up. Not ever. This nation IS worth the fight, or... was.
I don't know. With news of a man and woman of similar age who live as mother and "baby", who live on SSI, where he drives and builds his cribs and dresses correctly when in public, I am not sure... if the nation can be saved. He says he will commit suicide if his "income" is cut? Cut it, I want pictures. As for me, at this point? Cut me, I'll just go live under a bridge or something. When a nation surrenders to suicide, it will most surely surrender to suicide bombers (or put them on SSI). Frag!
How easy was that!?!
.
.
While I do not believe I will be making a trip into town, I did make a half dozen phone calls. After making most of them, I realized I had to make a few more in order to be able to plan other things. Sassy goes in next Tuesday, my priest just returned from sabbatical but will not officially be back until Monday or Tuesday. I left a voice message, careful to offer my phone number slowly. I started off shooting it out like lightning then retracted and slowed. I have not yet heard back from the cardiology clinic but I will stay awake a few more hours, hoping to see to that. And, finally, I called to set up the return of the sleep test machine. Thankfully, setting that outside is enough meaning if I wanted to go to town or get to sleep I am not tied to waiting. The last thing I will do, other than wait for that phone call, is to bring in a few pieces of 2x4 to elevate my bed a bit, adding a few more pillows to the mix as well, to see if I can find some mix of various pillows that allows more comfort.
As I tire, the pain is returning. Pain pills, it seems, will only work when I am in a rested state. I suspected any other strain would weaken the effect. Still, that I have done what I have done is a small miracle. And all due to cutting the pain enough to think, breathe, and then use those things to concentrate my efforts. Just to be able to function after such frustration the last two days makes this a great day. I have a bum's rush of tests and a final review appointment tomorrow. After that, I can take it easy until next week sometime. But I still need to mow. I still have dishes to do. And I still need to finish up the laundry. I think, with a little pain relief, these things should be no real issue.
Good... night. You know what I mean.
One more phone call made, to cancel an appointment I almost forgot was to take place this afternoon. As well, after what seemed like wrestling with a bear, I elevated my bed using a couple of 2x4's under each side. The bed is rather a tight fit anyway, so getting enough room on both sides of the bed to slide in 2x4s just right while on my hands and knees was a bit more tricky then had I thought it would be. Heavy breathing be damned, full steam ahead, mostly. All good. Still waiting on the call though from cardiology. Just... call... please!?! I am so very tired now.
.
While I do not believe I will be making a trip into town, I did make a half dozen phone calls. After making most of them, I realized I had to make a few more in order to be able to plan other things. Sassy goes in next Tuesday, my priest just returned from sabbatical but will not officially be back until Monday or Tuesday. I left a voice message, careful to offer my phone number slowly. I started off shooting it out like lightning then retracted and slowed. I have not yet heard back from the cardiology clinic but I will stay awake a few more hours, hoping to see to that. And, finally, I called to set up the return of the sleep test machine. Thankfully, setting that outside is enough meaning if I wanted to go to town or get to sleep I am not tied to waiting. The last thing I will do, other than wait for that phone call, is to bring in a few pieces of 2x4 to elevate my bed a bit, adding a few more pillows to the mix as well, to see if I can find some mix of various pillows that allows more comfort.
As I tire, the pain is returning. Pain pills, it seems, will only work when I am in a rested state. I suspected any other strain would weaken the effect. Still, that I have done what I have done is a small miracle. And all due to cutting the pain enough to think, breathe, and then use those things to concentrate my efforts. Just to be able to function after such frustration the last two days makes this a great day. I have a bum's rush of tests and a final review appointment tomorrow. After that, I can take it easy until next week sometime. But I still need to mow. I still have dishes to do. And I still need to finish up the laundry. I think, with a little pain relief, these things should be no real issue.
Good... night. You know what I mean.
One more phone call made, to cancel an appointment I almost forgot was to take place this afternoon. As well, after what seemed like wrestling with a bear, I elevated my bed using a couple of 2x4's under each side. The bed is rather a tight fit anyway, so getting enough room on both sides of the bed to slide in 2x4s just right while on my hands and knees was a bit more tricky then had I thought it would be. Heavy breathing be damned, full steam ahead, mostly. All good. Still waiting on the call though from cardiology. Just... call... please!?! I am so very tired now.
Heart failure, it seems.
.
.
Finally getting to some things today, I checked my phone messages. The man who reviewed the echo-cardiogram suggested that I am having unspecified heart failure. It was suggested that I call and speak to a specific woman and consider making an appointment. The suggestion is that my current medicine is not adequate for my condition. I just called and left a message. Before I decide whether to make an appointment, I will ask what type of medication is recommended. If this goes back to the same old same old, I will suggest they merely transfer the information to my primary and that I work with her at finding suitable medication to ease the pain(s) as they come. They probably either do not know of my inability to take medication (yet), know but think more talking will somehow make it possible for me to take it, or whatever. I have sort of given up on them.
I just received a call indicating I have a series of appointments tomorrow. A stress test, something something, and then something else. A good thing they called, I... either lost track or these were set up without my involvement. I will do my best to get there and do that. I suppose the more information they have, the more accurate their prognosis. Or is it merely a waste of time?
I was about to shower and dress, then I decided to check my messages, which lead to a phone call by me, which seems to have triggered a call back. I don't think it is coincidence. They must know by now how notoriously difficult it is to catch me and might use my calling them as a trigger to try and reach me. Utah, if nothing else, is extremely regimented, legalistic, and socialized. It knows much more about almost any particular person than what I would consider... wise. It is one of the things that should be noted, something I did not know, before moving here. While Idaho is probably freer, it is also rather unprepared save for the homesteaders, farmers, and ranchers who live through thick and thin and know to store. Those also live far spread out, and are easy targets in bad times. Trade-offs is how it goes.
A shower, I think, first off. While I dry, a few more calls. Then to the big city for my humble needs. Is it really after 10:00? Good. Hopefully I can figure out how to sleep this afternoon or evening and enough to see me through tomorrow. I will need to leave here by 8:00 or 8:30, if I will most likely not be able to get going until 9:00. I hate to rush but I don't seem to be able to get anywhere early.
Heart failure? Hmmm. We will see what we will see. Still, my left ventricle is NOT larger than my right.
.
Finally getting to some things today, I checked my phone messages. The man who reviewed the echo-cardiogram suggested that I am having unspecified heart failure. It was suggested that I call and speak to a specific woman and consider making an appointment. The suggestion is that my current medicine is not adequate for my condition. I just called and left a message. Before I decide whether to make an appointment, I will ask what type of medication is recommended. If this goes back to the same old same old, I will suggest they merely transfer the information to my primary and that I work with her at finding suitable medication to ease the pain(s) as they come. They probably either do not know of my inability to take medication (yet), know but think more talking will somehow make it possible for me to take it, or whatever. I have sort of given up on them.
I just received a call indicating I have a series of appointments tomorrow. A stress test, something something, and then something else. A good thing they called, I... either lost track or these were set up without my involvement. I will do my best to get there and do that. I suppose the more information they have, the more accurate their prognosis. Or is it merely a waste of time?
I was about to shower and dress, then I decided to check my messages, which lead to a phone call by me, which seems to have triggered a call back. I don't think it is coincidence. They must know by now how notoriously difficult it is to catch me and might use my calling them as a trigger to try and reach me. Utah, if nothing else, is extremely regimented, legalistic, and socialized. It knows much more about almost any particular person than what I would consider... wise. It is one of the things that should be noted, something I did not know, before moving here. While Idaho is probably freer, it is also rather unprepared save for the homesteaders, farmers, and ranchers who live through thick and thin and know to store. Those also live far spread out, and are easy targets in bad times. Trade-offs is how it goes.
A shower, I think, first off. While I dry, a few more calls. Then to the big city for my humble needs. Is it really after 10:00? Good. Hopefully I can figure out how to sleep this afternoon or evening and enough to see me through tomorrow. I will need to leave here by 8:00 or 8:30, if I will most likely not be able to get going until 9:00. I hate to rush but I don't seem to be able to get anywhere early.
Heart failure? Hmmm. We will see what we will see. Still, my left ventricle is NOT larger than my right.
Why debt?
.
.
I keep hearing how federal and state governments have grown through debt in some wild hope that the bill will never come due. At this point, just the interest on those debts is eating far too much of the revenue to be sane, never mind sustainable. It is not as if Americans were ignorant of what their government was doing. By demanding services while declining tax increases, they required their officials to borrow. And, why not? How much debt is the average American trucking around with all by himself?
Now, why is the average American carrying $84k in debt with an average income of about $40k? Well, let's think a bit. First, the dollar has been in serious decline for about 70 years. At some point, consciously or not, people realize saving money in banks is losing money no matter the interest rates. Of course, many neither know nor care, so long as they have beer and eggs. But for the rest, they begin looking for other, more secure, more sure, methods of growing wealth.
Other financial instruments include commodities, stocks, bonds, municipalities, foreign currencies, land, and manufacturing and other capital. I am sure there are a few others, not being an economist I don't have the full scope of things. For example, art. A Picasso might be an idiots version of art, but it is rare, more readily identifiable, and no more are being made. I am not exactly sure where to place such an asset. In any case, one of the biggest currency exchanges was a dying dollar for land and houses.
The problem with all of those wealth building alternatives is that they have all proven easy to manipulate. Quite often our government has directed wealth in whatever direction if felt would be best for the state. Expanding housing prices lead to a greater revenue stream, for example. This one is safer from taxes, that one usually offers a better return, the other one is slow but sure. Or so it was thought.
How much wealth has actually simply ceased to exist is difficult to tell. The truth is, much of what ceased to exist never existed in the first place. Much like the federal government indicating the debt ceiling would be hit by now, it turns out through tricks and schemes, the debt ceiling will not be hit until August. Just jazzy. The truth is, we could not raise the debt ceiling and play with things indefinitely, at least this and other dishonest administrations could.
So, what does the government do about all the debt? Why, since it is based on debt, it tries to force banks into offering easy terms for borrowing, loosening supply, and adding to the number of available notes. While this seems to be a part of the post-game wrap-up, this is only being noticed now because of the grandiose nature of it's implementation. The truth is, this is exactly what has been happening for over half a century. It is the definition of stupid, that being; if something fails, and continues to fail, the only thing to do is to repeat and harder in order to achieve a favorable result.
Every bubble and bust has been an attempt to find a safer or better return on investment than what the dollar would produce. That the U.S. dollar is still attached to oil means oil is nearly as worthless, in truth, as the dollar. I did note OPEC considered changing the measure of the price of oil to a number of currencies and financial instruments... right before the Euro proved too hot to handle and gold started to become untouchable and unmanageable. Coincidence? Better a slow death of wealth than an abrupt collapse I suppose.
While I do not believe wealth, it's movement and creation, are within the purview of a single man or group of men, I do think it is harnessed and ridden by a number of "crown princes". If there is one other thing I am sure of, these crown princes spend as much time fighting each other for the pickings as stealing from us. Big bankers? No, but the families behind them indeed. The CEO of Bank of America is... merely an employee. If one who would sell you, me, and the family(ies) which own BoA for a single huge payout, in cooperation with the board of trustees and federal regulators mind you.
So, where does that leave Six-pack Joe? It probably means that as the dollar shrinks, investment money flees, and foreign startups take hold, he will become Chinese. While I do see manners in which this could be easily avoided, to America's favor, I don't see the political will among politicians. Not even "conservatives". Global warming hysteria, for example, is code-word for world-wide financial equalization. I am not sure tea-party elect even have much say, even if we filled the house, senate, and president's office with such. I am not sure they have the will, or power, or resolve. There is nothing like sipping whine in gay D.C. to forget the whims of the peasants. We will see, I suppose. And probably shortly... if the American mind has a longer attention span than the average gold fish that is.
.
I keep hearing how federal and state governments have grown through debt in some wild hope that the bill will never come due. At this point, just the interest on those debts is eating far too much of the revenue to be sane, never mind sustainable. It is not as if Americans were ignorant of what their government was doing. By demanding services while declining tax increases, they required their officials to borrow. And, why not? How much debt is the average American trucking around with all by himself?
Now, why is the average American carrying $84k in debt with an average income of about $40k? Well, let's think a bit. First, the dollar has been in serious decline for about 70 years. At some point, consciously or not, people realize saving money in banks is losing money no matter the interest rates. Of course, many neither know nor care, so long as they have beer and eggs. But for the rest, they begin looking for other, more secure, more sure, methods of growing wealth.
Other financial instruments include commodities, stocks, bonds, municipalities, foreign currencies, land, and manufacturing and other capital. I am sure there are a few others, not being an economist I don't have the full scope of things. For example, art. A Picasso might be an idiots version of art, but it is rare, more readily identifiable, and no more are being made. I am not exactly sure where to place such an asset. In any case, one of the biggest currency exchanges was a dying dollar for land and houses.
The problem with all of those wealth building alternatives is that they have all proven easy to manipulate. Quite often our government has directed wealth in whatever direction if felt would be best for the state. Expanding housing prices lead to a greater revenue stream, for example. This one is safer from taxes, that one usually offers a better return, the other one is slow but sure. Or so it was thought.
How much wealth has actually simply ceased to exist is difficult to tell. The truth is, much of what ceased to exist never existed in the first place. Much like the federal government indicating the debt ceiling would be hit by now, it turns out through tricks and schemes, the debt ceiling will not be hit until August. Just jazzy. The truth is, we could not raise the debt ceiling and play with things indefinitely, at least this and other dishonest administrations could.
So, what does the government do about all the debt? Why, since it is based on debt, it tries to force banks into offering easy terms for borrowing, loosening supply, and adding to the number of available notes. While this seems to be a part of the post-game wrap-up, this is only being noticed now because of the grandiose nature of it's implementation. The truth is, this is exactly what has been happening for over half a century. It is the definition of stupid, that being; if something fails, and continues to fail, the only thing to do is to repeat and harder in order to achieve a favorable result.
Every bubble and bust has been an attempt to find a safer or better return on investment than what the dollar would produce. That the U.S. dollar is still attached to oil means oil is nearly as worthless, in truth, as the dollar. I did note OPEC considered changing the measure of the price of oil to a number of currencies and financial instruments... right before the Euro proved too hot to handle and gold started to become untouchable and unmanageable. Coincidence? Better a slow death of wealth than an abrupt collapse I suppose.
While I do not believe wealth, it's movement and creation, are within the purview of a single man or group of men, I do think it is harnessed and ridden by a number of "crown princes". If there is one other thing I am sure of, these crown princes spend as much time fighting each other for the pickings as stealing from us. Big bankers? No, but the families behind them indeed. The CEO of Bank of America is... merely an employee. If one who would sell you, me, and the family(ies) which own BoA for a single huge payout, in cooperation with the board of trustees and federal regulators mind you.
So, where does that leave Six-pack Joe? It probably means that as the dollar shrinks, investment money flees, and foreign startups take hold, he will become Chinese. While I do see manners in which this could be easily avoided, to America's favor, I don't see the political will among politicians. Not even "conservatives". Global warming hysteria, for example, is code-word for world-wide financial equalization. I am not sure tea-party elect even have much say, even if we filled the house, senate, and president's office with such. I am not sure they have the will, or power, or resolve. There is nothing like sipping whine in gay D.C. to forget the whims of the peasants. We will see, I suppose. And probably shortly... if the American mind has a longer attention span than the average gold fish that is.
Alright, now to test.
.
.
I am sitting here, getting ready to... live. I think I will be making it into town to take care of some business, do a bit of grocery shopping, and to pick up some vasoline. I am hoping when that is done I will be able to make a few phone calls. I am not sure how far I can stretch into the day but that isn't exactly the point. The point of what is happening is how much I can successfully do. Since my sleep cycle is such a weird animal, I have long ago learned to focus more on getting things done than on an arbitrary measure of time.
What has changed is that the pain I felt, and the inability to ever catch my breath, has been eliminated by using aspirin. With that easing, I now find that I can do much more. It is simply amazing how such a minor seeming thing like aspirin can allow me nearly full access to my capabilities. I didn't see pain as the problem, only a symptom. I was incorrect. I do not know how long aspirin will work. And, right at this moment, I don't care. It has always been about taking advantage of whatever a little or large window provided.
I need to call the sleep study people and arrange for the device to be returned. I need to call my doctor and see what is happening with this, that, and the other things. I would also like to call my priest and the veterinarian clinic for an appointment, though I am not sure whether to set those appointments for the morning or afternoon. (It is not knowing, because of my sleep problems, when to set things up to offer me a better chance of being somewhere that often... makes me reluctant to try.) I will also, if I have time and energy, like to look over the forms for a the rebate from buying my home and call the insurance agency regarding a settlement. What I can't complete today I feel almost certain I should be able to complete tomorrow, literally.
One thing I was finally able to figure out, mostly, was some checking anomalies. I still don't have it all figured out, but I am getting closer. I will look over a few things again. Being a stranger in a strange land means one has to be more cautious and also makes it easy to get a bit jumpy. It also means I look at problems much more closely before flinging feces and raising a ruckus. The less of that going on, the better.
My bp is sucking, by the way. At 180's/140's, the diastolic is nasty and up 20 from the usual, the systolic might not be good but it is relatively normal and sometimes has been as low as in the high 160's. I honestly wonder if the growing pain and disease with breathing and eating have caused the higher diastolic. A few days on aspirin and I will know more. Oh, it looks like I have enough in my account currently to try and order a few alternative medicines. Which I will do in my lead up to taking a shower and before racing off to get some things done.
Woot! I love the idea that I can do something today. Pain killers, really? And mild ones. Good day.
.
I am sitting here, getting ready to... live. I think I will be making it into town to take care of some business, do a bit of grocery shopping, and to pick up some vasoline. I am hoping when that is done I will be able to make a few phone calls. I am not sure how far I can stretch into the day but that isn't exactly the point. The point of what is happening is how much I can successfully do. Since my sleep cycle is such a weird animal, I have long ago learned to focus more on getting things done than on an arbitrary measure of time.
What has changed is that the pain I felt, and the inability to ever catch my breath, has been eliminated by using aspirin. With that easing, I now find that I can do much more. It is simply amazing how such a minor seeming thing like aspirin can allow me nearly full access to my capabilities. I didn't see pain as the problem, only a symptom. I was incorrect. I do not know how long aspirin will work. And, right at this moment, I don't care. It has always been about taking advantage of whatever a little or large window provided.
I need to call the sleep study people and arrange for the device to be returned. I need to call my doctor and see what is happening with this, that, and the other things. I would also like to call my priest and the veterinarian clinic for an appointment, though I am not sure whether to set those appointments for the morning or afternoon. (It is not knowing, because of my sleep problems, when to set things up to offer me a better chance of being somewhere that often... makes me reluctant to try.) I will also, if I have time and energy, like to look over the forms for a the rebate from buying my home and call the insurance agency regarding a settlement. What I can't complete today I feel almost certain I should be able to complete tomorrow, literally.
One thing I was finally able to figure out, mostly, was some checking anomalies. I still don't have it all figured out, but I am getting closer. I will look over a few things again. Being a stranger in a strange land means one has to be more cautious and also makes it easy to get a bit jumpy. It also means I look at problems much more closely before flinging feces and raising a ruckus. The less of that going on, the better.
My bp is sucking, by the way. At 180's/140's, the diastolic is nasty and up 20 from the usual, the systolic might not be good but it is relatively normal and sometimes has been as low as in the high 160's. I honestly wonder if the growing pain and disease with breathing and eating have caused the higher diastolic. A few days on aspirin and I will know more. Oh, it looks like I have enough in my account currently to try and order a few alternative medicines. Which I will do in my lead up to taking a shower and before racing off to get some things done.
Woot! I love the idea that I can do something today. Pain killers, really? And mild ones. Good day.
Pain killers.
.
.
Why I didn't consider it before now I can't be sure. But several attempts to dose the side ache pain down to size, even if for a bit, never really crossed my mind until recently. I tried a 600, then 900, then 1200, and finally at 1500 mg the stuff finally worked. The only difficult part was waiting the allotted time between doses. There is no other real way to see what minimal dose would work. Overlap by taking another dosage level would simply have confused the thing. While I can tell the pain is still there, I am not as subject to it. This might allow me a couple of things.
First, my mother suggested that I use 2x4 pieces, or bricks, under the head of the bed so as to gain some altitude or angle for easier sleeping. Simply put, I have not been able to clear my mind well enough to concentrate to get to even this simple thing. I have quite a few smaller 2x4 remnants from putting the bench together. As well, and with the addition of a slightly raised platform upon which to attempt to sleep more comfortably, I might be able to begin working changing my sleep times. Days are vital but have been unattainable.
While 1500mg of aspirin is one and a half of recommended dosage, my guess is the dose is aimed at people weighing about 140 to 160 pounds. At the top amount, 160 + 80 = 240, which might suggest a dose and a half. Possibly making the dosage well within reason, if weight is a consideration while still leaving room for the dosage increase to not be purely linear in the recommended by weight increase. So, for now, I will continue to dose at the current level in hopes I can claw my way forward to other medical interventions. I continually question medical intervention, for many reasons, and yet they probably do have the keys. Whether they will or can use them, that is another question.
I watched a show tonight, though I have the DVD version. I watched the original the night before. The Matrix is devoid of God (and denying God through many implications). This is to be expected of science fiction which is based on science (or is it the other way around these days?). The only way a man wants to claim to be scientific (even roughly) he also has to be unGodly, so goes science fiction. In any case, there are some things I think it does have correct. Of course, being fiction in any case, and filtered through Hollywood, it grossly enhances the variances.
I am no Neo. But for a man who has sat on a couch or chair for most of the last twenty years, having little in the way of physical exercise, eating all the wrong foods, with high blood pressure, diabetes, and some unknown ailment which cause extreme exhaustion, my reflexes are more than simply remarkable. They would be remarkable for a young man in good shape. Catching a falling glass, let alone realizing one is falling in time to react, is something interesting. I have a pretty good idea of what I can and can't do. Most things are quite doable. Gravity, mass, and many other things are very mild compared to my reflexes. Further, neither my last gal nor my cats can sneak up on me (and they all tried or try). But there is more. It almost seems like I am a step ahead, even in my exhaustion. There is something to it. Further, I can still use my bastard sword as if I knew what I was doing. How, by the way, does someone actually learn to use a sword without ever... learning to use a sword?
The good and the bad about that, though, is that I will perform quite well, in limited engagements, right up to when I die. Just as I can take enough damage and continue to fight beyond the ability of my body to survive, I will remain seemingly functional right to the end. This makes it difficult for doctors to see the problem. Seeing, it seems, is believing. If I could unlock this, if I could walk again, I could almost fly. If I ever do unlock the mystery of being crippled, what I do will be shocking, at any age. There is something there, in the movie, something real. And then they completely bungle it, of course.
On to cats. Sassy seems to have come down with something. Her stools are loose and bodaciously rank. From a bit of searching, it could be anything from a urinary infection to diabetes to a parasite. Why Sam is fine I can't be sure. Sam has no symptoms in kind. Still, this development has given me a powerful new impetus to get to things again. Just the stench would almost be enough, but that it is one of my beloved is the sticking point. Further, after I have her checked out I will simply have to take Sam in next. It seems dry cat food by itself can cause diabetes. So, reluctantly because of the mess involved, I will be going to canned or pouch wet cat food. I am still not sure which brands are better, though high protein, decent fat contents, and very low carbs seem to be the high points of what to look for. This is all good anyway. For me to consider giving the cats away, should that become a need, they will have to have their shots up to date and have a clean bill of health. Two potential birds with one stone.
Sassy is maturing quite well. I have learned to play with her very nicely. Rather than making my hands and feet play toys, other than slight teasing, I have learned to make my various digits and their respective fleshy manipulators a thing to offer some input, love, and food. She is becoming quite the lady instead of the stir crazy midget pest she might have become. Sam, as always, is a lady. She simply enjoys being loved and tended... or not. Needing their own time too, but quite often preferring to sleep on or near pops. Sassy was worth the effort and I am quite proud of having watched and helped her mature.
Anyway, time to monkey with the bed, cool down, grab a few extra pillows, and after my next dose of painkillers, try to sleep a bit earlier in the hopes of having some daylight to work with tomorrow. Good night and God Bless.
.
Why I didn't consider it before now I can't be sure. But several attempts to dose the side ache pain down to size, even if for a bit, never really crossed my mind until recently. I tried a 600, then 900, then 1200, and finally at 1500 mg the stuff finally worked. The only difficult part was waiting the allotted time between doses. There is no other real way to see what minimal dose would work. Overlap by taking another dosage level would simply have confused the thing. While I can tell the pain is still there, I am not as subject to it. This might allow me a couple of things.
First, my mother suggested that I use 2x4 pieces, or bricks, under the head of the bed so as to gain some altitude or angle for easier sleeping. Simply put, I have not been able to clear my mind well enough to concentrate to get to even this simple thing. I have quite a few smaller 2x4 remnants from putting the bench together. As well, and with the addition of a slightly raised platform upon which to attempt to sleep more comfortably, I might be able to begin working changing my sleep times. Days are vital but have been unattainable.
While 1500mg of aspirin is one and a half of recommended dosage, my guess is the dose is aimed at people weighing about 140 to 160 pounds. At the top amount, 160 + 80 = 240, which might suggest a dose and a half. Possibly making the dosage well within reason, if weight is a consideration while still leaving room for the dosage increase to not be purely linear in the recommended by weight increase. So, for now, I will continue to dose at the current level in hopes I can claw my way forward to other medical interventions. I continually question medical intervention, for many reasons, and yet they probably do have the keys. Whether they will or can use them, that is another question.
I watched a show tonight, though I have the DVD version. I watched the original the night before. The Matrix is devoid of God (and denying God through many implications). This is to be expected of science fiction which is based on science (or is it the other way around these days?). The only way a man wants to claim to be scientific (even roughly) he also has to be unGodly, so goes science fiction. In any case, there are some things I think it does have correct. Of course, being fiction in any case, and filtered through Hollywood, it grossly enhances the variances.
I am no Neo. But for a man who has sat on a couch or chair for most of the last twenty years, having little in the way of physical exercise, eating all the wrong foods, with high blood pressure, diabetes, and some unknown ailment which cause extreme exhaustion, my reflexes are more than simply remarkable. They would be remarkable for a young man in good shape. Catching a falling glass, let alone realizing one is falling in time to react, is something interesting. I have a pretty good idea of what I can and can't do. Most things are quite doable. Gravity, mass, and many other things are very mild compared to my reflexes. Further, neither my last gal nor my cats can sneak up on me (and they all tried or try). But there is more. It almost seems like I am a step ahead, even in my exhaustion. There is something to it. Further, I can still use my bastard sword as if I knew what I was doing. How, by the way, does someone actually learn to use a sword without ever... learning to use a sword?
The good and the bad about that, though, is that I will perform quite well, in limited engagements, right up to when I die. Just as I can take enough damage and continue to fight beyond the ability of my body to survive, I will remain seemingly functional right to the end. This makes it difficult for doctors to see the problem. Seeing, it seems, is believing. If I could unlock this, if I could walk again, I could almost fly. If I ever do unlock the mystery of being crippled, what I do will be shocking, at any age. There is something there, in the movie, something real. And then they completely bungle it, of course.
On to cats. Sassy seems to have come down with something. Her stools are loose and bodaciously rank. From a bit of searching, it could be anything from a urinary infection to diabetes to a parasite. Why Sam is fine I can't be sure. Sam has no symptoms in kind. Still, this development has given me a powerful new impetus to get to things again. Just the stench would almost be enough, but that it is one of my beloved is the sticking point. Further, after I have her checked out I will simply have to take Sam in next. It seems dry cat food by itself can cause diabetes. So, reluctantly because of the mess involved, I will be going to canned or pouch wet cat food. I am still not sure which brands are better, though high protein, decent fat contents, and very low carbs seem to be the high points of what to look for. This is all good anyway. For me to consider giving the cats away, should that become a need, they will have to have their shots up to date and have a clean bill of health. Two potential birds with one stone.
Sassy is maturing quite well. I have learned to play with her very nicely. Rather than making my hands and feet play toys, other than slight teasing, I have learned to make my various digits and their respective fleshy manipulators a thing to offer some input, love, and food. She is becoming quite the lady instead of the stir crazy midget pest she might have become. Sam, as always, is a lady. She simply enjoys being loved and tended... or not. Needing their own time too, but quite often preferring to sleep on or near pops. Sassy was worth the effort and I am quite proud of having watched and helped her mature.
Anyway, time to monkey with the bed, cool down, grab a few extra pillows, and after my next dose of painkillers, try to sleep a bit earlier in the hopes of having some daylight to work with tomorrow. Good night and God Bless.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Enema of the State.
.
.
Enema? Well, I'm not an enemy of the state. I merely wish to flush out the infections. Whether that is even possible is unknown. One white blood cell can't do it. One dose of antibiotic can't do it. But a sustained push by even a third of the electorate will begin the process. And, actually, after the first flush, there will probably need to be more. Some of the politicians and bureaucrats have been infecting through their power longer than I have been alive. They stick to arteries like plaque. They cling to vital otherwise healthy cells in order to avoid either detection or elimination. And even when they are gone, the damage will have to be assessed. Is it too late or can repairs be made in time? This next election will show whether the infection is beginning to be flushed or if the body has chosen to die rather than try to fight for it's health. The last election was a minor flush. We need a royal flush, and several of them.
And, no, Republicans are only the next to be flushed. Democrats first, then many Republicans. Then the thing can begin to be reassessed. By the way, any who foolishly continue to vote for a Democrat for anything, mayor, city council, or sheriff, best rethink that. They are absolutely non-salvageable. They will harm you, they will herd you, they will use their force of station to subdue you. And they will laugh about it and rant insanely about whatever rights they just crushed under their or their own's heel.
Today is another rough one. Even with the nap last night, I ended up sleeping very long today. While getting to sleep proved simple, waking up was a nightmare. I tried several times before waking to abject failure. I simply could not keep conscious no matter what I tried. And worse, when I finally did rise, there was nothing much I could do. No mowing happened, of course. No phone calls.
I realize I am still in recovery from last week. And worse, this side ache from having to push to breath is getting worse. I simply can't find peace or rest. I can't, literally, ever quite catch my breath. I need to call the doctors but being unable to stay awake long enough into the day and waking so late, that simply hasn't yet been a possibility. It is simply going to play out however it does. In a worst case scenario, I might find myself, again, at the emergency room. I know, at some point, this side ache is going to complicate breathing beyond my ability to overcome it. Like an engine that is heating up from overuse, those muscles and my ability to use them will fail. The question I am left with is... when to go? Should I wait until I need to actually be taken or sometime before? How would I know? The noose is tightening, that is for sure.
Well, on to tinkering or doing something else. Later or good night.
.
Enema? Well, I'm not an enemy of the state. I merely wish to flush out the infections. Whether that is even possible is unknown. One white blood cell can't do it. One dose of antibiotic can't do it. But a sustained push by even a third of the electorate will begin the process. And, actually, after the first flush, there will probably need to be more. Some of the politicians and bureaucrats have been infecting through their power longer than I have been alive. They stick to arteries like plaque. They cling to vital otherwise healthy cells in order to avoid either detection or elimination. And even when they are gone, the damage will have to be assessed. Is it too late or can repairs be made in time? This next election will show whether the infection is beginning to be flushed or if the body has chosen to die rather than try to fight for it's health. The last election was a minor flush. We need a royal flush, and several of them.
And, no, Republicans are only the next to be flushed. Democrats first, then many Republicans. Then the thing can begin to be reassessed. By the way, any who foolishly continue to vote for a Democrat for anything, mayor, city council, or sheriff, best rethink that. They are absolutely non-salvageable. They will harm you, they will herd you, they will use their force of station to subdue you. And they will laugh about it and rant insanely about whatever rights they just crushed under their or their own's heel.
Today is another rough one. Even with the nap last night, I ended up sleeping very long today. While getting to sleep proved simple, waking up was a nightmare. I tried several times before waking to abject failure. I simply could not keep conscious no matter what I tried. And worse, when I finally did rise, there was nothing much I could do. No mowing happened, of course. No phone calls.
I realize I am still in recovery from last week. And worse, this side ache from having to push to breath is getting worse. I simply can't find peace or rest. I can't, literally, ever quite catch my breath. I need to call the doctors but being unable to stay awake long enough into the day and waking so late, that simply hasn't yet been a possibility. It is simply going to play out however it does. In a worst case scenario, I might find myself, again, at the emergency room. I know, at some point, this side ache is going to complicate breathing beyond my ability to overcome it. Like an engine that is heating up from overuse, those muscles and my ability to use them will fail. The question I am left with is... when to go? Should I wait until I need to actually be taken or sometime before? How would I know? The noose is tightening, that is for sure.
Well, on to tinkering or doing something else. Later or good night.
I still haven't firgured out sleep.
.
.
I was able to sleep at 22:00. I woke hard at 1:00 and that was that. Changing my schedule through conscious effort is difficult. Alarm clocks are neat, and they work when all is running smoothly. Then they stop being able to wake me. Adding another alarm clock helps for a bit longer. Then the whole system simply fails. Cutting caffeine out completely does not help, it just makes it harder to stay awake a full day. Avoiding or taking naps means nothing, though sometimes naps can lead to drastic shifts. Staying up longer doesn't help, but can lead to drastic shifts. The problem with drastic shifts, caused by anything (or nothing I can identify) is that they end up shifting things randomly. After decades of trying to simply figure out how to lead a simple daytime life, I realize that the option isn't mine. Which makes sense, with a little review.
When I was first becoming ill in the Navy, I didn't fully understand what was happening. There were problems I noted. Daydreaming to the point where the dreams were seemingly real enough for them to be confusing, or I should say confused with reality. And of course sleep problems, the root of that problem. I had been working out, when that was available, for much of my time in the service. Mostly weight lifting and swimming, I hated jogging and still do... something about my knees. I also partied on weekends. Not a heavy partier. Six to eight beers and then bedtime. Sometimes Friday, sometimes Saturday, and on rare occasions both days.
My sleep started to become a need I could not fulfill. I began cutting out party days. I simply needed the rest. Then went socializing. Then working out had to be curtailed. I NEEDED SLEEP! I then started being late to work, missing half days, then whole days. I simply could not get enough sleep. Then, as I suggested, I began being asleep even while I was technically awake. It all became a blur.
While I have learned to live within my means, and even being able to stay up 16 hours a day often, the price is that I do nothing to upset the applecart. A day or two of driving half a day will wipe me out for two or three days, requiring extra sleep. I can go as much as a few weeks or a month of pretty heavy work, but then I can crash for months, functioning at a very low capacity and then only for a few hours in a given day. Cutting back isn't so much a requirement or even a felt need as it is a symptom. The confusion I know is merely a symptom of the exhaustion. The lack of focus, the inability to make appointments, all of it stems from simple exhaustion.
Frustrating as it is, it is nice to finally have it right there and fully understand it better than I ever have. I have been too tired to ever really put it together. Anti-depressants didn't work, mood levelers didn't help, those were prescribed for my reaction to my problem, not for the problem. If you are out of gas, changing the spark plugs will do you not a bit of good. But I don't have any other real symptoms, other than being perpetually, cripplingly, frustratingly, tired. I have no aches and pains on a regular basis. I have no swollen glands. I am not excreting anything obvious from my glands at a higher rate. I simply never have been able to again live a normal life. Okay, Morpheus, hand me the red pill. Or... did I already take it? Doh!
.
I was able to sleep at 22:00. I woke hard at 1:00 and that was that. Changing my schedule through conscious effort is difficult. Alarm clocks are neat, and they work when all is running smoothly. Then they stop being able to wake me. Adding another alarm clock helps for a bit longer. Then the whole system simply fails. Cutting caffeine out completely does not help, it just makes it harder to stay awake a full day. Avoiding or taking naps means nothing, though sometimes naps can lead to drastic shifts. Staying up longer doesn't help, but can lead to drastic shifts. The problem with drastic shifts, caused by anything (or nothing I can identify) is that they end up shifting things randomly. After decades of trying to simply figure out how to lead a simple daytime life, I realize that the option isn't mine. Which makes sense, with a little review.
When I was first becoming ill in the Navy, I didn't fully understand what was happening. There were problems I noted. Daydreaming to the point where the dreams were seemingly real enough for them to be confusing, or I should say confused with reality. And of course sleep problems, the root of that problem. I had been working out, when that was available, for much of my time in the service. Mostly weight lifting and swimming, I hated jogging and still do... something about my knees. I also partied on weekends. Not a heavy partier. Six to eight beers and then bedtime. Sometimes Friday, sometimes Saturday, and on rare occasions both days.
My sleep started to become a need I could not fulfill. I began cutting out party days. I simply needed the rest. Then went socializing. Then working out had to be curtailed. I NEEDED SLEEP! I then started being late to work, missing half days, then whole days. I simply could not get enough sleep. Then, as I suggested, I began being asleep even while I was technically awake. It all became a blur.
While I have learned to live within my means, and even being able to stay up 16 hours a day often, the price is that I do nothing to upset the applecart. A day or two of driving half a day will wipe me out for two or three days, requiring extra sleep. I can go as much as a few weeks or a month of pretty heavy work, but then I can crash for months, functioning at a very low capacity and then only for a few hours in a given day. Cutting back isn't so much a requirement or even a felt need as it is a symptom. The confusion I know is merely a symptom of the exhaustion. The lack of focus, the inability to make appointments, all of it stems from simple exhaustion.
Frustrating as it is, it is nice to finally have it right there and fully understand it better than I ever have. I have been too tired to ever really put it together. Anti-depressants didn't work, mood levelers didn't help, those were prescribed for my reaction to my problem, not for the problem. If you are out of gas, changing the spark plugs will do you not a bit of good. But I don't have any other real symptoms, other than being perpetually, cripplingly, frustratingly, tired. I have no aches and pains on a regular basis. I have no swollen glands. I am not excreting anything obvious from my glands at a higher rate. I simply never have been able to again live a normal life. Okay, Morpheus, hand me the red pill. Or... did I already take it? Doh!
Monday, May 16, 2011
Nothing.
.
.
I am simply going to crawl into bed, try to sleep, and see what tomorrow brings. It is not that I didn't try, it is merely that there was no way to try. In a swimming pool, even away from the edge, you can use your hands and feet to create leverage by which to move and steer. Whatever is happening is making it as if I am in a pool with neither hands nor feet available, let alone a wall which would be useless in that case anyway, to use. Nothing.
The ache in my side, I realize, is a newer thing. Perhaps it started a week ago or so. I thought it was hunger, or something else. If it was hunger there was little I could do about it. I realize now it is the same pain one gets when about to become winded. Some people like that feeling. I know I did when I played sports, up to a degree. It meant I was doing something. What I don't like is being winded from sitting. Oh well.
Perhaps some sleep, if I can get it, will allow me to recoup enough to get on mowing and phone calls tomorrow. I offer no guarantee, only that mowing is my goal. What is odd, from what I have seen, is mowing will not tire me itself. I will not sense exhaustion from the physical part. I may suffer in future days but not immediately. I am not sure being out of breath as I am, if that will change things though. It hasn't seemed to be an immediate problem if too I haven't worked as hard as mowing an half acre either.
Well, good night. I hope.
.
I am simply going to crawl into bed, try to sleep, and see what tomorrow brings. It is not that I didn't try, it is merely that there was no way to try. In a swimming pool, even away from the edge, you can use your hands and feet to create leverage by which to move and steer. Whatever is happening is making it as if I am in a pool with neither hands nor feet available, let alone a wall which would be useless in that case anyway, to use. Nothing.
The ache in my side, I realize, is a newer thing. Perhaps it started a week ago or so. I thought it was hunger, or something else. If it was hunger there was little I could do about it. I realize now it is the same pain one gets when about to become winded. Some people like that feeling. I know I did when I played sports, up to a degree. It meant I was doing something. What I don't like is being winded from sitting. Oh well.
Perhaps some sleep, if I can get it, will allow me to recoup enough to get on mowing and phone calls tomorrow. I offer no guarantee, only that mowing is my goal. What is odd, from what I have seen, is mowing will not tire me itself. I will not sense exhaustion from the physical part. I may suffer in future days but not immediately. I am not sure being out of breath as I am, if that will change things though. It hasn't seemed to be an immediate problem if too I haven't worked as hard as mowing an half acre either.
Well, good night. I hope.
Winded all the time.
.
.
I finally understand why getting things done is so difficult. I am literally winded all of the time. Remember those sprints in high school football or track practice? Where you clutch your side and groan after the tenth, fifteenth, or twentieth sprint? While not quite that bad, more like how it feels when the pain first appears and begins to grow, it is also constant. Getting out of bed and getting going is exhausting. Even getting into bed, rolling to some modicum of comfort, and getting the blankets right, leaves me a bit tired. Even if I am getting enough oxygen, I am having to constantly fight for it.
I could not sleep until around 6:00 this morning. I woke at 14:00 or so, but getting up and going was an absolute bear. And it has been for some time. When I finally get up, get arranged, and find a perch, as I go about my routines I can settle to a bit of peace and find some rest, but still I have that side ache from breathing. Doing anything, and I do mean anything, sets me back. I am fighting the pain, fighting for air, and become more exhausted every time.
The grass has simply sprung up. I need to cut it soon, today really. I can't. I am hoping, by putting it on the planner for tomorrow, that I will work up whatever it will take to begin mowing. I hope I simply don't keel over while doing it. I will be keeping my phone handy in case I run out of breath and can't catch it again. While I might not be able to talk, dialing 911 and not talking would be good enough. Or, as good as it gets. If things go better, I will need breaks tomorrow. During those breaks I can try to have my call list planned out.
It is already too late today to do much of what I had hoped to do. I can begin researching a few things, prepping for calls for when I can make them. A list of who to call, set forth in some sort of logical order, should see me ready when I can be awake and ready at a time that is reasonable. I can't quit but I do have to understand that my already smaller capacity has been further limited. Over, around, through is the idea. I use the idea as I am able.
It is so odd though. In spite of the side ache and continued and increased exhaustion, everything else has sort of cleared up. Headaches and shoulder and back aches are gone. Sleeping, while difficult to achieve and escape, is pleasant and restful. Concentration is in decent order, if not better it is also not worse (usually). I suddenly have a green light but no way to move forward. Better one problem, or set of them, at a time though. In some ways I guess I can't complain.
Well, on to... something. I did get the trash out last night. I did clean the cat litter. If not grand it is more than I thought might get done. Good day.
.
I finally understand why getting things done is so difficult. I am literally winded all of the time. Remember those sprints in high school football or track practice? Where you clutch your side and groan after the tenth, fifteenth, or twentieth sprint? While not quite that bad, more like how it feels when the pain first appears and begins to grow, it is also constant. Getting out of bed and getting going is exhausting. Even getting into bed, rolling to some modicum of comfort, and getting the blankets right, leaves me a bit tired. Even if I am getting enough oxygen, I am having to constantly fight for it.
I could not sleep until around 6:00 this morning. I woke at 14:00 or so, but getting up and going was an absolute bear. And it has been for some time. When I finally get up, get arranged, and find a perch, as I go about my routines I can settle to a bit of peace and find some rest, but still I have that side ache from breathing. Doing anything, and I do mean anything, sets me back. I am fighting the pain, fighting for air, and become more exhausted every time.
The grass has simply sprung up. I need to cut it soon, today really. I can't. I am hoping, by putting it on the planner for tomorrow, that I will work up whatever it will take to begin mowing. I hope I simply don't keel over while doing it. I will be keeping my phone handy in case I run out of breath and can't catch it again. While I might not be able to talk, dialing 911 and not talking would be good enough. Or, as good as it gets. If things go better, I will need breaks tomorrow. During those breaks I can try to have my call list planned out.
It is already too late today to do much of what I had hoped to do. I can begin researching a few things, prepping for calls for when I can make them. A list of who to call, set forth in some sort of logical order, should see me ready when I can be awake and ready at a time that is reasonable. I can't quit but I do have to understand that my already smaller capacity has been further limited. Over, around, through is the idea. I use the idea as I am able.
It is so odd though. In spite of the side ache and continued and increased exhaustion, everything else has sort of cleared up. Headaches and shoulder and back aches are gone. Sleeping, while difficult to achieve and escape, is pleasant and restful. Concentration is in decent order, if not better it is also not worse (usually). I suddenly have a green light but no way to move forward. Better one problem, or set of them, at a time though. In some ways I guess I can't complain.
Well, on to... something. I did get the trash out last night. I did clean the cat litter. If not grand it is more than I thought might get done. Good day.
Hungry, tired, sore, with a headache, and...
.
.
I am not sure what to do about any of it. I had thought I might use whatever sleep cycle is coming up in order to do another night of sleep study, however I think I will pass. I believe I have enough data recorded in order to give them whatever results are possible. I suppose aspirin or Tylenol might help, but I am so out of it to boot that thinking of using that just now came to me. I really hate the fog.
I have so much I need to get to tomorrow, or at least begin planning. With multiple problems, including what feels like a sore side-ache, like what I remember from sports when I became winded while running up and down the court, I am not sure what I can get done. I have to call the sleep study center and plan for this device to be sent back. I need to call my doctor. I need to figure out some paperwork and contact an insurance company. I am also considering looking for a property lawyer, most likely a little further out.
We will see, I guess. No one can or seems interested in helping, even in areas they could help. I suppose since I look relatively healthy, they believe helping would be a bad thing. And, in a way, they are probably right. That I have been down for two decades is not important. If I can't get up, I shouldn't be helped. For all I know, help has been what has kept me down? Who ever knows?
Dishes and laundry languished. I don't feel bad about that, as I had set this weekend as a rest time. But tomorrow is another issue. I simply have to figure out how to clean the place and get food back on the menu. Just a bite now and then helps. Days without eating probably isn't all that good for me. And, it is the point of the thing. Something about having a clean functionable home leads to more of a functional life, and shows it. Humble is one thing, this is not that. I will try to break through the extra weight of difficult breathing and the typical weight of exhaustion. I don't need to win. I would simply like to finish the race.
Good night.
.
I am not sure what to do about any of it. I had thought I might use whatever sleep cycle is coming up in order to do another night of sleep study, however I think I will pass. I believe I have enough data recorded in order to give them whatever results are possible. I suppose aspirin or Tylenol might help, but I am so out of it to boot that thinking of using that just now came to me. I really hate the fog.
I have so much I need to get to tomorrow, or at least begin planning. With multiple problems, including what feels like a sore side-ache, like what I remember from sports when I became winded while running up and down the court, I am not sure what I can get done. I have to call the sleep study center and plan for this device to be sent back. I need to call my doctor. I need to figure out some paperwork and contact an insurance company. I am also considering looking for a property lawyer, most likely a little further out.
We will see, I guess. No one can or seems interested in helping, even in areas they could help. I suppose since I look relatively healthy, they believe helping would be a bad thing. And, in a way, they are probably right. That I have been down for two decades is not important. If I can't get up, I shouldn't be helped. For all I know, help has been what has kept me down? Who ever knows?
Dishes and laundry languished. I don't feel bad about that, as I had set this weekend as a rest time. But tomorrow is another issue. I simply have to figure out how to clean the place and get food back on the menu. Just a bite now and then helps. Days without eating probably isn't all that good for me. And, it is the point of the thing. Something about having a clean functionable home leads to more of a functional life, and shows it. Humble is one thing, this is not that. I will try to break through the extra weight of difficult breathing and the typical weight of exhaustion. I don't need to win. I would simply like to finish the race.
Good night.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
What to say.
.
.
I spoke with my mom today. I had considered not saying anything, but my breathing was something she noted, and that it has gotten worse. Now that I am pretty sure it is not my heart, I went ahead and spilled the beans about what I know and what remains unknown. My heart is not only good, but probably quite good. Further, even if my liver and kidneys are having problems, they are in good shape as organs and have been looked at a number of different ways. Blood pressure, of course, is the primary culprit for the whole stack of problems, including the edema. And yet the doctors refuse to offer the medicine that allowed me to take the medicine that helps in spite of having been on the whole mess for up to two years and through three V.A. doctors and a private care physician. It really does look suspicious, from my point of view, as to why they refuse what has worked at least to the degree that it works.
I have looked at edema. The various causes are being ruled out one by one. It does tie to my blood pressure, but that remains untreatable. So finding something that helps ease suffering from the edema, at this point, is probably as good as it gets. I did tell my mother that they sent inhalers, but that the two times I have tried it I found no relief. She has been on an inhaler herself, before, and suggested that one or two attempts will not help. That the medicine needs to rise to a certain level before it will help. I doubt this, but have decided to give that a try. I continue to take the diuretic given at the ER. I will call tomorrow and find out why the diuretic was switched without even talking to me, back to a possibly edema causing diuretic, and why I have not received the potassium. I continue to take the potassium those rare times I eat. Eating actually worsens the pain from chest expansion, making eating even less interesting than before.
My mother did offer to come out should I need help. I actually could use help now, as I am unable to balance my life almost at all right now. But unless I am literally dying and have become immobile, I am not sure I want help. Calling in favors is a last resort. I am comforted though, knowing that I would have her here should that eventuality arrive. I suspect I could try to set it up so that she receives some income for caring for me as well. That would make it easier on both of us. And, despite our differences, I know of few people personally who I would trust to manage my home, provide food, and keep things clean. And if things were allowed, she could even just manage other care providers. She is good with such things, exemplary actually.
I have a few other issues I need to deal with. I am about to begin seeking advice on how to go about fighting for some things. We live in a dark, greedy, lying world. Sometimes being took is just the way it is. Sometimes, however, there are ways to, if not punish, at least not lose whole on bad deals. I make a lousy squeaky wheel, as some call it. It is time to consider fighting on a few things. I guess I want what I can get so that my life should it continue be easier or should it be ending that loose ends are tended. It is time to begin kicking in teeth, legally, morally, socially, and however else I may pursue justice.
Later.
.
I spoke with my mom today. I had considered not saying anything, but my breathing was something she noted, and that it has gotten worse. Now that I am pretty sure it is not my heart, I went ahead and spilled the beans about what I know and what remains unknown. My heart is not only good, but probably quite good. Further, even if my liver and kidneys are having problems, they are in good shape as organs and have been looked at a number of different ways. Blood pressure, of course, is the primary culprit for the whole stack of problems, including the edema. And yet the doctors refuse to offer the medicine that allowed me to take the medicine that helps in spite of having been on the whole mess for up to two years and through three V.A. doctors and a private care physician. It really does look suspicious, from my point of view, as to why they refuse what has worked at least to the degree that it works.
I have looked at edema. The various causes are being ruled out one by one. It does tie to my blood pressure, but that remains untreatable. So finding something that helps ease suffering from the edema, at this point, is probably as good as it gets. I did tell my mother that they sent inhalers, but that the two times I have tried it I found no relief. She has been on an inhaler herself, before, and suggested that one or two attempts will not help. That the medicine needs to rise to a certain level before it will help. I doubt this, but have decided to give that a try. I continue to take the diuretic given at the ER. I will call tomorrow and find out why the diuretic was switched without even talking to me, back to a possibly edema causing diuretic, and why I have not received the potassium. I continue to take the potassium those rare times I eat. Eating actually worsens the pain from chest expansion, making eating even less interesting than before.
My mother did offer to come out should I need help. I actually could use help now, as I am unable to balance my life almost at all right now. But unless I am literally dying and have become immobile, I am not sure I want help. Calling in favors is a last resort. I am comforted though, knowing that I would have her here should that eventuality arrive. I suspect I could try to set it up so that she receives some income for caring for me as well. That would make it easier on both of us. And, despite our differences, I know of few people personally who I would trust to manage my home, provide food, and keep things clean. And if things were allowed, she could even just manage other care providers. She is good with such things, exemplary actually.
I have a few other issues I need to deal with. I am about to begin seeking advice on how to go about fighting for some things. We live in a dark, greedy, lying world. Sometimes being took is just the way it is. Sometimes, however, there are ways to, if not punish, at least not lose whole on bad deals. I make a lousy squeaky wheel, as some call it. It is time to consider fighting on a few things. I guess I want what I can get so that my life should it continue be easier or should it be ending that loose ends are tended. It is time to begin kicking in teeth, legally, morally, socially, and however else I may pursue justice.
Later.
A few candidates reviewed.
.
.
Thankfully Huckabee is out of the running. While I have problems with Romney, it is not based on his religion. With Huck, not so much. The softening, weakening, decay of some segments of the 'religious center' has been amazing and terrible. Humanists who try to claim Christianity end up failing on both accounts. His FOX show seemed more a Huck infomercial than anything else I could really call it. Fundamental charismatic emphasis on conservative sounding sound bites wrapped in a crap world view would have been another way to put it. Of course, now I can plainly see that Huck loves Huck, as do potential congregants should he begin preaching again. That is what he seems to have stacked his audience with, potential soft Christian adherents. Don't let the door hit you in the... well, you get it by now.
Gingrich, another seeming favorable at times candidate, has zero chance and for very good reason. I have to admit, he seemed to cut a mean jib until I looked at many of the particulars. He tweets like a conservative bird and lives and actually functions like a liberal academic twit. He is an perfect example of how academia, in it's new and terribly wrongheaded influence of all things American, has corrupted the political and other processes. I am not, specifically, certain why he is trying to run under the Republican banner. He is more like a soft middle of the road old school Democrat. I don't think there has ever been a time when "global warming" advocacy or it's ilk, universal amnesty (with or without secure borders), or many other of his notions have ever had a place in the conservative or even Republican party. My guess is he runs merely to pull the whole process to the left. He has no chance and no good input to my reasoning eyes.
Paul. Anyone who thinks heroin could and should be a viable choice is downright dangerous. Americans simply are not ready to be offered what we know they cannot handle. There is a reason it, and other such drugs, were outlawed. It is NOT LIKE ALCOHOL. I went through a childhood with alcohol and drugs around. I could clearly see the difference. That the supposed war on drugs has been ratcheted up has as much to do with the corrupting influence of drug money on the economy and politicians as anything. While some would say that was inevitable, I suggest that this shows more of a sign that the war was subverted quickly and wrongly and needlessly. If the war on drugs is fought to win, it would be won. As for the suspension of freedoms, that has happened in several wars and will happen again. Further, his foreign policy portfolio is insane. He suggested using a nullified presidential power to deal with Bin Laden. He is either out of the loop or simply lying. Would he, as president, truly not have reacted to the attack on 9/11, save to issue a bogus edict of some sort? I doubt it. He does, unlike the others, have some rather sound ideas regarding some serious issues, including government size, spending, and such. But without a reasonable foreign policy and with the dangers imposed by legalizing narcotics, he is no where near worth the risk.
I will go over a few others as I read on them. To be honest, I will probably be burning them all. I went independent (not Independent) in the last presidential campaign. I had a party but it left me, pun intended. If they pull a McCain out of their hats, I again will not vote on that particular office. I will not vote for whatever goes for a Republican, even if slightly to the right of McCain. I will not allow the RNC to try and box me in to vote for a pseudo-conservative. I don't demand caviar, I do demand that if I am being offered fish eyes that they not try and sell it as caviar. If the Republican party is through with conservativism, they should just state that. Perhaps they can change their name to the Neo-Democratic party? We will see.
It was terribly difficult to get to sleep last night. It was awful trying to wake up. My lungs are filling a bit more, if not at their worst by far. The gurgling was back, my chest is a bit sore from the effort of breathing, but I do not feel too exhausted this "morning". I sorely wish the inhalers offered some relief. As is, I simply suffer through the more difficult times and hope nothing really bad happens. I have an idea what treading water beyond how long seemed possible is like. Gulping water occasionally when the muscles keeping one afloat misbehave. I would sorely love to hop on a "boat", purge the fluid, and go somewhere for a long well deserved nap.
I might try to get some laundry done today. Maybe do a load or two of dishes too. I am not going to push. I will not force it. But if I see those windows open, I will go through them. I am feeling a bit better on the exhaustion side. If that is all that was wrong, I would be king this week. More phone calls tomorrow to try and find out what is going on. Like I said, they changed my diuretic back to my old one. My old one, by the way, by itself, can cause my breathing problems! Arghhhhhhhh!
Later.
.
Thankfully Huckabee is out of the running. While I have problems with Romney, it is not based on his religion. With Huck, not so much. The softening, weakening, decay of some segments of the 'religious center' has been amazing and terrible. Humanists who try to claim Christianity end up failing on both accounts. His FOX show seemed more a Huck infomercial than anything else I could really call it. Fundamental charismatic emphasis on conservative sounding sound bites wrapped in a crap world view would have been another way to put it. Of course, now I can plainly see that Huck loves Huck, as do potential congregants should he begin preaching again. That is what he seems to have stacked his audience with, potential soft Christian adherents. Don't let the door hit you in the... well, you get it by now.
Gingrich, another seeming favorable at times candidate, has zero chance and for very good reason. I have to admit, he seemed to cut a mean jib until I looked at many of the particulars. He tweets like a conservative bird and lives and actually functions like a liberal academic twit. He is an perfect example of how academia, in it's new and terribly wrongheaded influence of all things American, has corrupted the political and other processes. I am not, specifically, certain why he is trying to run under the Republican banner. He is more like a soft middle of the road old school Democrat. I don't think there has ever been a time when "global warming" advocacy or it's ilk, universal amnesty (with or without secure borders), or many other of his notions have ever had a place in the conservative or even Republican party. My guess is he runs merely to pull the whole process to the left. He has no chance and no good input to my reasoning eyes.
Paul. Anyone who thinks heroin could and should be a viable choice is downright dangerous. Americans simply are not ready to be offered what we know they cannot handle. There is a reason it, and other such drugs, were outlawed. It is NOT LIKE ALCOHOL. I went through a childhood with alcohol and drugs around. I could clearly see the difference. That the supposed war on drugs has been ratcheted up has as much to do with the corrupting influence of drug money on the economy and politicians as anything. While some would say that was inevitable, I suggest that this shows more of a sign that the war was subverted quickly and wrongly and needlessly. If the war on drugs is fought to win, it would be won. As for the suspension of freedoms, that has happened in several wars and will happen again. Further, his foreign policy portfolio is insane. He suggested using a nullified presidential power to deal with Bin Laden. He is either out of the loop or simply lying. Would he, as president, truly not have reacted to the attack on 9/11, save to issue a bogus edict of some sort? I doubt it. He does, unlike the others, have some rather sound ideas regarding some serious issues, including government size, spending, and such. But without a reasonable foreign policy and with the dangers imposed by legalizing narcotics, he is no where near worth the risk.
I will go over a few others as I read on them. To be honest, I will probably be burning them all. I went independent (not Independent) in the last presidential campaign. I had a party but it left me, pun intended. If they pull a McCain out of their hats, I again will not vote on that particular office. I will not vote for whatever goes for a Republican, even if slightly to the right of McCain. I will not allow the RNC to try and box me in to vote for a pseudo-conservative. I don't demand caviar, I do demand that if I am being offered fish eyes that they not try and sell it as caviar. If the Republican party is through with conservativism, they should just state that. Perhaps they can change their name to the Neo-Democratic party? We will see.
It was terribly difficult to get to sleep last night. It was awful trying to wake up. My lungs are filling a bit more, if not at their worst by far. The gurgling was back, my chest is a bit sore from the effort of breathing, but I do not feel too exhausted this "morning". I sorely wish the inhalers offered some relief. As is, I simply suffer through the more difficult times and hope nothing really bad happens. I have an idea what treading water beyond how long seemed possible is like. Gulping water occasionally when the muscles keeping one afloat misbehave. I would sorely love to hop on a "boat", purge the fluid, and go somewhere for a long well deserved nap.
I might try to get some laundry done today. Maybe do a load or two of dishes too. I am not going to push. I will not force it. But if I see those windows open, I will go through them. I am feeling a bit better on the exhaustion side. If that is all that was wrong, I would be king this week. More phone calls tomorrow to try and find out what is going on. Like I said, they changed my diuretic back to my old one. My old one, by the way, by itself, can cause my breathing problems! Arghhhhhhhh!
Later.
This reminds me of something.
.
.
Today was like fishing. Fishing in a pond with no fish. Assuming one knows there are no fish in the pond, this was just as successful. Another day of this and I should be ready to do what ever it is I have to do next. While getting a bit chill, I have also had the windows open for the last few days. No rain to worry about and the chill is no worse than when I would run the thermostat a bit chiller in the winter. Fresh air has been great.
My breathlessness does come and go. Or more, is better and worse. It is better than the worst points but any real activity and I know it is not gone. At least getting off the couch or out of my chair no longer causes wheezing. Anything much more than that will. And, even now, sometimes it is worse and sometimes it is better. Every once in a while I simply have to breath harder in order to not be out of breath.
I keep think about the exhaustion I feel. I have called it a possible spiritual thing. I was not being literal. If you know anything about math, for example, you might be familiar with the x, y, and z planes. There is another plane, for unreal numbers. Despite being called unreal, they are quite real. An example of them is the fact that you have the type of electricity you receive into your home. My exhaustion sort of runs a circuit like that. It is not completely physically, or psychologically based. But I understand little more than that it is different. I do believe, now, that it is just as real as physical exhaustion or psychological trauma, but that it is neither, or not wholly those things. It is not laziness either. But I simply cannot understand more than that.
Life really is pretty easy. Getting up is difficult for many people, but at some point this clears up and people get going. For me, for the last twenty years, that never clears up. Sleeping more does not help. Sleeping less does not help. It is not a matter of mood and is not depression. If I were a machine, I would be looking for some wires that occasionally ground, and not just one. I would say the whole wiring harness needs to be changed out. Either the design was bad or there are a lot of little problems that lead to a systemic failure. Medicine, today, is doing good when it is able to medicate or surgically remove the symptom(s) and hope the problem disappears. Doctors are merely making a good living. My problem is not their problem, and even if it were they have no solutions. I suppose I shouldn't be so angry with them. But then they are rather accusatory when my problem isn't easily treated. My anger is as reactive as anything.
Another day of fishing without fishing and I am hoping to be back into the fray. I have phone calls to make, business to attend, forms to fill out, medical care to manage, chores to do, and a few hobbies to pursue. But not for another day.
Good night.
.
Today was like fishing. Fishing in a pond with no fish. Assuming one knows there are no fish in the pond, this was just as successful. Another day of this and I should be ready to do what ever it is I have to do next. While getting a bit chill, I have also had the windows open for the last few days. No rain to worry about and the chill is no worse than when I would run the thermostat a bit chiller in the winter. Fresh air has been great.
My breathlessness does come and go. Or more, is better and worse. It is better than the worst points but any real activity and I know it is not gone. At least getting off the couch or out of my chair no longer causes wheezing. Anything much more than that will. And, even now, sometimes it is worse and sometimes it is better. Every once in a while I simply have to breath harder in order to not be out of breath.
I keep think about the exhaustion I feel. I have called it a possible spiritual thing. I was not being literal. If you know anything about math, for example, you might be familiar with the x, y, and z planes. There is another plane, for unreal numbers. Despite being called unreal, they are quite real. An example of them is the fact that you have the type of electricity you receive into your home. My exhaustion sort of runs a circuit like that. It is not completely physically, or psychologically based. But I understand little more than that it is different. I do believe, now, that it is just as real as physical exhaustion or psychological trauma, but that it is neither, or not wholly those things. It is not laziness either. But I simply cannot understand more than that.
Life really is pretty easy. Getting up is difficult for many people, but at some point this clears up and people get going. For me, for the last twenty years, that never clears up. Sleeping more does not help. Sleeping less does not help. It is not a matter of mood and is not depression. If I were a machine, I would be looking for some wires that occasionally ground, and not just one. I would say the whole wiring harness needs to be changed out. Either the design was bad or there are a lot of little problems that lead to a systemic failure. Medicine, today, is doing good when it is able to medicate or surgically remove the symptom(s) and hope the problem disappears. Doctors are merely making a good living. My problem is not their problem, and even if it were they have no solutions. I suppose I shouldn't be so angry with them. But then they are rather accusatory when my problem isn't easily treated. My anger is as reactive as anything.
Another day of fishing without fishing and I am hoping to be back into the fray. I have phone calls to make, business to attend, forms to fill out, medical care to manage, chores to do, and a few hobbies to pursue. But not for another day.
Good night.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Sleep!
.
.
Delicious, long, happy, restful seeming, sleep. If I dreamed I remember nothing of it now, though I suspect I did from nearly waking and thinking then that maybe I had. No bad dreams though, the sheets are dry and my muscles don't hurt. No foul mood and the sun is out today. I would love to be out there, even just tinkering with the rope. The problem is my exhaustion was caused only partly from missing sleep. The other part is, I don't know how to express it, almost spiritual in nature. I can't just do and continue to do and not pay a price of some unknown resource. So, today, I rest. As I said, I am good with that.
I did not get to sleep until early morning so I did not wake in time to call the techs. I can work on bullets though, and will if I get to them. I have primed enough cases to tinker. I also looked up my problem with bullets overall length issues. I realize I made a mistake in my first writing, I am off by hundredths, not thousandths. A few thousandths off is fine. Not so with hundredths. I have looked at the solutions, and will look more. One of my issues, I see right away, is that the bullet plate (the thing that takes the brass around to all the stations) needs to be full. I need to have a case at each station. But with the primer bay out of operation, that is not feasible. Until I can correct the priming station, I can't really work through the overall length situation. Blasphemy!
I have also found more regarding the primer situation. Most people just say "call the tech". I hate that. This should not be so complicated in this one area that they could not have included instructions (or instructions that work). There are instructions, and they are fail. They are both quite vague and I think incomplete. It does give me something to do, something to be unhappy with, and something to look forward to completing I suppose.
It is a good thing the sleep device arrived on Wednesday. The first night did not work out and there has been a day, and another sleep cycle beside, where I am not sure I got the minimum sleep. It is rather odd being tied to a device by my hand, nose, and chest. I thought it would make sleep impossible but it doesn't. I sort of wish I could download the data, just to tinker with it myself. And, with a little ingenuity, I might be able to do so. Without knowing, precisely, what I am doing though, there could be... problems. So, I will leave it to those with the equipment and software.
Sassy is on a begging spree. Having tired of her constant begging, I have elected to bring a manually operated shower around with me. She has to learn to deal with her boredom. And she has to learn to eat what is available. Sometimes I like having her up and in my lap, then she settles down. Other times she merely gets up here, then rips out and cuts me up pretty good. I have learned which is which and will disfavor the disfavorable reasons. *squirt* Brat! Oh, and the next time I am in town I will be getting petroleum jelly. I have heard this works for hairballs, thus vomiting, on cats. And I have learned how to apply it. A dab on the nose will get Sam to lick it off out of frustration. No other means will get her to eat it. A little dab indeed. Here kitteh kitteh kitteh! *evil grins*
Well, on to doing nothing as quickly and well as I am able. Have a great day! Oh, remember to tell those you love that you love them. Even the ones you don't particularly like right at the moment. Probably especially those. Later.
.
Delicious, long, happy, restful seeming, sleep. If I dreamed I remember nothing of it now, though I suspect I did from nearly waking and thinking then that maybe I had. No bad dreams though, the sheets are dry and my muscles don't hurt. No foul mood and the sun is out today. I would love to be out there, even just tinkering with the rope. The problem is my exhaustion was caused only partly from missing sleep. The other part is, I don't know how to express it, almost spiritual in nature. I can't just do and continue to do and not pay a price of some unknown resource. So, today, I rest. As I said, I am good with that.
I did not get to sleep until early morning so I did not wake in time to call the techs. I can work on bullets though, and will if I get to them. I have primed enough cases to tinker. I also looked up my problem with bullets overall length issues. I realize I made a mistake in my first writing, I am off by hundredths, not thousandths. A few thousandths off is fine. Not so with hundredths. I have looked at the solutions, and will look more. One of my issues, I see right away, is that the bullet plate (the thing that takes the brass around to all the stations) needs to be full. I need to have a case at each station. But with the primer bay out of operation, that is not feasible. Until I can correct the priming station, I can't really work through the overall length situation. Blasphemy!
I have also found more regarding the primer situation. Most people just say "call the tech". I hate that. This should not be so complicated in this one area that they could not have included instructions (or instructions that work). There are instructions, and they are fail. They are both quite vague and I think incomplete. It does give me something to do, something to be unhappy with, and something to look forward to completing I suppose.
It is a good thing the sleep device arrived on Wednesday. The first night did not work out and there has been a day, and another sleep cycle beside, where I am not sure I got the minimum sleep. It is rather odd being tied to a device by my hand, nose, and chest. I thought it would make sleep impossible but it doesn't. I sort of wish I could download the data, just to tinker with it myself. And, with a little ingenuity, I might be able to do so. Without knowing, precisely, what I am doing though, there could be... problems. So, I will leave it to those with the equipment and software.
Sassy is on a begging spree. Having tired of her constant begging, I have elected to bring a manually operated shower around with me. She has to learn to deal with her boredom. And she has to learn to eat what is available. Sometimes I like having her up and in my lap, then she settles down. Other times she merely gets up here, then rips out and cuts me up pretty good. I have learned which is which and will disfavor the disfavorable reasons. *squirt* Brat! Oh, and the next time I am in town I will be getting petroleum jelly. I have heard this works for hairballs, thus vomiting, on cats. And I have learned how to apply it. A dab on the nose will get Sam to lick it off out of frustration. No other means will get her to eat it. A little dab indeed. Here kitteh kitteh kitteh! *evil grins*
Well, on to doing nothing as quickly and well as I am able. Have a great day! Oh, remember to tell those you love that you love them. Even the ones you don't particularly like right at the moment. Probably especially those. Later.
A few odds and ends.
.
.
With all that has been going on and a repurposing of what efforts I have available, some writing has been sidelined, as have some things on my lists. While I am continuing to hold off medium term and long term plans, I have been doing a few things of personal interest. One of those is reloading bullets.
I must admit, I came into the reloading hobby by way of political and social concern as much as an interest in shooting. I also came into it quite blindly. I have almost no mechanical interface experience, as exhibited in the construction of the bench upon which I have installed the loading press. And, it is obvious. While I am working to make my loads accurate in all ways, I am finding that absolute accuracy is not always feasible. While I can get the powder to perfectly put out 3.9 grains every time over dozens of tests, I cannot get the overall length of the finished bullet to within a few hundredths regularly. The variances can be as high as 5, 7, or more hundredths of an inch. This is, I think, unacceptable. I also have not figured out the primer issue, usually needing to be gone during prime calling times or being too tired to function when I have had them available. The good thing is perhaps when I call, with some experience and problems, the techs will be able to handle both situations rather than having to call back if I had the length problem later.
While in Ogden, last time, I considered buying a manual, stand alone, primer. The cheapest among them was $24, and change. My friend suggested he would sell me his, he no longer uses it. How much? He suggested $10. Then I remembered, I still have a check from him for something, a $14 dollar check. I am terrible about cashing such instruments. He keeps his checkbook, so by giving him the check back, he can see an actual increase in his balance. So it was. I learned how to prime with it, after a bit more of a tussle with new notions. The case I was trying to prime would not take the primer. And, being somewhat twitchy with primers, I was cautious. Setting it all aside, to think somewhere in the back of my mind, I did other things for a day. Coming back to priming, I decided to review the whole operation and find what was wrong. Ah! The cases I had thought all used small primers... were actually mixed! Same brand, same caliber, different primers! No wonder the small would not fit the large primer hole in the case. A bit more work separating them, another go at it, and... primed cases, both large and small. Finally, I put out some bullets. But then I ran into the overall length issue. Bah! But this frustration I enjoy. I am hoping to call Dillon tomorrow, if I wake up early. Being a weekend I might not get through... assuming I wake up.
Oh, women have been on my mind lately as well. I see so many middle aged single women at the few places I go, I am realizing just how dire things are for them. They, generally, have no clue as to why men are abandoning them in droves. Dally, sure. Flirt, of course. Anything more? Not on our lives. Especially obvious career women. Until they become frustrated enough to realize what they are losing, why, and then begin being a part of the solution instead of tools of the problem, they will never win us back. If they go slutty, the lowest among us will feed on them like krill, leaving them as waste for the next lower level of consumers. If they go prude or cold, they will simply be ignored until they become slutty or die.
The chance, with a modern education, to see the problem, by them, is quite small. If one is trained to believe there are no forests, it is difficult to see one past the trees. They have been taught, and often believe intellectually, what is contrary to what they want. And they, like men, natively just want what they want but have nothing to offer in exchange for it. Love? Sex? No, men can get these things outside of marriage and easily. Children? Same thing, and worse. If a man has a child with a woman, she has say as to what involvement he has in their lives. And women are notoriously fickle.
Women will have to change, then force through that change by voting for politicians who are pro-family. Even this is slim, politicians being what they are. As I have always said, the only way a woman can beat me, conquer me, is to surrender whole and complete. Any other game will see her as either an object of desire or, as now, an unclean animal. Not fully her fault, except in her acceptance and advance of feminism through her lifestyle as a career woman, a thing most women simply advantage themselves through without fully understanding. If women want men, husbands, families, they will have to burden themselves with losing their "rights" and forcing political changes either by voting or abdicating their vote until it disappears. As for me, I will not hold my breath on that... when I can catch it that is.
Welp, on to other things.
.
With all that has been going on and a repurposing of what efforts I have available, some writing has been sidelined, as have some things on my lists. While I am continuing to hold off medium term and long term plans, I have been doing a few things of personal interest. One of those is reloading bullets.
I must admit, I came into the reloading hobby by way of political and social concern as much as an interest in shooting. I also came into it quite blindly. I have almost no mechanical interface experience, as exhibited in the construction of the bench upon which I have installed the loading press. And, it is obvious. While I am working to make my loads accurate in all ways, I am finding that absolute accuracy is not always feasible. While I can get the powder to perfectly put out 3.9 grains every time over dozens of tests, I cannot get the overall length of the finished bullet to within a few hundredths regularly. The variances can be as high as 5, 7, or more hundredths of an inch. This is, I think, unacceptable. I also have not figured out the primer issue, usually needing to be gone during prime calling times or being too tired to function when I have had them available. The good thing is perhaps when I call, with some experience and problems, the techs will be able to handle both situations rather than having to call back if I had the length problem later.
While in Ogden, last time, I considered buying a manual, stand alone, primer. The cheapest among them was $24, and change. My friend suggested he would sell me his, he no longer uses it. How much? He suggested $10. Then I remembered, I still have a check from him for something, a $14 dollar check. I am terrible about cashing such instruments. He keeps his checkbook, so by giving him the check back, he can see an actual increase in his balance. So it was. I learned how to prime with it, after a bit more of a tussle with new notions. The case I was trying to prime would not take the primer. And, being somewhat twitchy with primers, I was cautious. Setting it all aside, to think somewhere in the back of my mind, I did other things for a day. Coming back to priming, I decided to review the whole operation and find what was wrong. Ah! The cases I had thought all used small primers... were actually mixed! Same brand, same caliber, different primers! No wonder the small would not fit the large primer hole in the case. A bit more work separating them, another go at it, and... primed cases, both large and small. Finally, I put out some bullets. But then I ran into the overall length issue. Bah! But this frustration I enjoy. I am hoping to call Dillon tomorrow, if I wake up early. Being a weekend I might not get through... assuming I wake up.
Oh, women have been on my mind lately as well. I see so many middle aged single women at the few places I go, I am realizing just how dire things are for them. They, generally, have no clue as to why men are abandoning them in droves. Dally, sure. Flirt, of course. Anything more? Not on our lives. Especially obvious career women. Until they become frustrated enough to realize what they are losing, why, and then begin being a part of the solution instead of tools of the problem, they will never win us back. If they go slutty, the lowest among us will feed on them like krill, leaving them as waste for the next lower level of consumers. If they go prude or cold, they will simply be ignored until they become slutty or die.
The chance, with a modern education, to see the problem, by them, is quite small. If one is trained to believe there are no forests, it is difficult to see one past the trees. They have been taught, and often believe intellectually, what is contrary to what they want. And they, like men, natively just want what they want but have nothing to offer in exchange for it. Love? Sex? No, men can get these things outside of marriage and easily. Children? Same thing, and worse. If a man has a child with a woman, she has say as to what involvement he has in their lives. And women are notoriously fickle.
Women will have to change, then force through that change by voting for politicians who are pro-family. Even this is slim, politicians being what they are. As I have always said, the only way a woman can beat me, conquer me, is to surrender whole and complete. Any other game will see her as either an object of desire or, as now, an unclean animal. Not fully her fault, except in her acceptance and advance of feminism through her lifestyle as a career woman, a thing most women simply advantage themselves through without fully understanding. If women want men, husbands, families, they will have to burden themselves with losing their "rights" and forcing political changes either by voting or abdicating their vote until it disappears. As for me, I will not hold my breath on that... when I can catch it that is.
Welp, on to other things.
I do need this weekend.
.
.
I have been out of the house and taken three road trips this last week. This in spite of my normal exhaustion features. The shortness of breath and added sleep difficulties, plus having to figure out how to wake at specific times, has meant I have been literally jamming it. It may be nothing to most people but these seemingly simple tasks have been akin to an average person figuring out how to run a couple of miles. Stretched, I think, would be the appropriate word.
The visit to the hospital today involved receiving an echo-cardiogram. I finally know two things. One, I actually do have a heart. I don't know if it is black as tar, however. The other, I do not believe I have an enlarged left ventricle. I could be wrong. I was eyeballing it. The tech would neither say nay or yeah, but a little sweet talk and a little misdirection, along with the ability to read people in a non-verbal manner, added to my belief that the heart (barring some minor odd defect it really does take a cardiologist to note) is the picture of health. Pulse was a little high at 110, give or take. But oddly my blood pressure was down at 160/99 or so, the first one. And, I was able to walk/jog the two flights of steps after an eighth of a mile jog from parking to the hospital main as well. I did have to stop and catch my breath, but only a few moments were needed. I hate giving in to my breathing issue without a fight.
I need rest. I need to relax, or do what is my equivalent. This weekend is sorely needed. I was going to write when I returned home, and did actually. But when tired my writing can... ramble. And so it did. I needed sleep so very badly that I crashed. I hooked up the sleep monitor, not sure if I would be sleeping short or long. I got around four hours. In any case, they will get whatever sleep I can give them, recording whatever sleep I can get. I simply never know how long.
I think I was awaken by a bat? The leathery sound of their wings is distinctive. While it is possible I only dreamed that, because the cats were going crazy trying to get into my room I suspect there was a real bat in there. How it got in, or out, is another matter altogether. I do have a sub-attic hatch, the front and back additions to my home having their own attics and my room being in one of those, the windows though screened were open causing air intake to shift the attic panel, so that may be the whole of it. Hmm, but the closet doors were closed, making a quick entrance and exit unlikely. Whatever. Oh, and I dreamed. I remember one of the dreams as being one I have had before. The other was new, at least as I recall. The others I could not remember. Now they are all fading.
So, back to health. My doctors should be very careful about handing out such dire diagnosis's. Most likely, this one is false. The liver, or kidneys, or whatever else it is, sure it is a problem. Related to blood pressure. But my breathing seems unrelated to heart damage. So, what is causing the breathing problem? My doctor sent hydrochlorothiazide, my old diuretic. Why not the new one I was put on? I also received two inhalers. Huh? They change my diuretic and send something about which we have not had a discussion, all without discussion? And yet I have not received the powder form potassium. Huh? Is it too much to expect some effort, professionalism, and cooperation? Bah! Edema can be fatal, of and by itself, with no attachment to the heart damage or involvement. I do have to stay on this, but... They were, most likely, wrong. As I said, tricks to force me to take what I can't take. Now you are beginning to understand why I so despise Zero care. You will get precisely what I am getting. Bureaucrats for doctors and when those bureaucrats decide something, regardless of evidence, that is what (and only what) you will receive in the way of treatment.
Bah!
If I get nothing done, other than recouping, this weekend I am good with that. I need some rest. If a few dishes become clean, if a load of laundry or two finds itself on the bright side, if some components become bullets... fine. But I am not going to advocate or push. I need a little time for nothingness, or at least to leave that open should it happen. No push, or rush, no shove. Next week it will begin again, until I know why I am not breathing right. I am going to have to push those doctors into finding out the truth or they will simply let me die of it while complaining about very possibly unrelated problems. Bah!!!!! Bah!!!!!
Later or good night.
.
I have been out of the house and taken three road trips this last week. This in spite of my normal exhaustion features. The shortness of breath and added sleep difficulties, plus having to figure out how to wake at specific times, has meant I have been literally jamming it. It may be nothing to most people but these seemingly simple tasks have been akin to an average person figuring out how to run a couple of miles. Stretched, I think, would be the appropriate word.
The visit to the hospital today involved receiving an echo-cardiogram. I finally know two things. One, I actually do have a heart. I don't know if it is black as tar, however. The other, I do not believe I have an enlarged left ventricle. I could be wrong. I was eyeballing it. The tech would neither say nay or yeah, but a little sweet talk and a little misdirection, along with the ability to read people in a non-verbal manner, added to my belief that the heart (barring some minor odd defect it really does take a cardiologist to note) is the picture of health. Pulse was a little high at 110, give or take. But oddly my blood pressure was down at 160/99 or so, the first one. And, I was able to walk/jog the two flights of steps after an eighth of a mile jog from parking to the hospital main as well. I did have to stop and catch my breath, but only a few moments were needed. I hate giving in to my breathing issue without a fight.
I need rest. I need to relax, or do what is my equivalent. This weekend is sorely needed. I was going to write when I returned home, and did actually. But when tired my writing can... ramble. And so it did. I needed sleep so very badly that I crashed. I hooked up the sleep monitor, not sure if I would be sleeping short or long. I got around four hours. In any case, they will get whatever sleep I can give them, recording whatever sleep I can get. I simply never know how long.
I think I was awaken by a bat? The leathery sound of their wings is distinctive. While it is possible I only dreamed that, because the cats were going crazy trying to get into my room I suspect there was a real bat in there. How it got in, or out, is another matter altogether. I do have a sub-attic hatch, the front and back additions to my home having their own attics and my room being in one of those, the windows though screened were open causing air intake to shift the attic panel, so that may be the whole of it. Hmm, but the closet doors were closed, making a quick entrance and exit unlikely. Whatever. Oh, and I dreamed. I remember one of the dreams as being one I have had before. The other was new, at least as I recall. The others I could not remember. Now they are all fading.
So, back to health. My doctors should be very careful about handing out such dire diagnosis's. Most likely, this one is false. The liver, or kidneys, or whatever else it is, sure it is a problem. Related to blood pressure. But my breathing seems unrelated to heart damage. So, what is causing the breathing problem? My doctor sent hydrochlorothiazide, my old diuretic. Why not the new one I was put on? I also received two inhalers. Huh? They change my diuretic and send something about which we have not had a discussion, all without discussion? And yet I have not received the powder form potassium. Huh? Is it too much to expect some effort, professionalism, and cooperation? Bah! Edema can be fatal, of and by itself, with no attachment to the heart damage or involvement. I do have to stay on this, but... They were, most likely, wrong. As I said, tricks to force me to take what I can't take. Now you are beginning to understand why I so despise Zero care. You will get precisely what I am getting. Bureaucrats for doctors and when those bureaucrats decide something, regardless of evidence, that is what (and only what) you will receive in the way of treatment.
Bah!
If I get nothing done, other than recouping, this weekend I am good with that. I need some rest. If a few dishes become clean, if a load of laundry or two finds itself on the bright side, if some components become bullets... fine. But I am not going to advocate or push. I need a little time for nothingness, or at least to leave that open should it happen. No push, or rush, no shove. Next week it will begin again, until I know why I am not breathing right. I am going to have to push those doctors into finding out the truth or they will simply let me die of it while complaining about very possibly unrelated problems. Bah!!!!! Bah!!!!!
Later or good night.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Feeling better.
.
.
Today is better than yesterday and yesterday was better than I have been for a week. Perhaps relief in having a diagnosis, even a bad one potentially, frees me to begin making plans and doing some other things. I woke too late to do much, my sleep still troubling to obtain if it is good when it does come. Though I can't do some things I had hoped to manage today, I can do some other things on the list, mostly related to a bit of cleaning.
I am still looking for possible places for Sam and Sassy. I spoke of my concern with the missionaries who visited today and they will ask around. I keep looking for places using the internet as well. And, I thought as I was going to sleep, of calling veterinary clinics as another possible source of finding the ladies a home or homes. And yet, I need to talk to a doctor to find out what kind of window I have. I am not sure how imminent death is, only that it is almost sure at this point. I would like to minimize the time I will have to be alone.
As for suicide, that is not what this is. If I do anything, I will consider not using the potassium. It would weight the form of death to favor a heart attack. I am still not sure if I will do that though (and haven't to date). Since the pills are upsetting taken without food, which has made it so taking the potassium regularly is not doable, I am being sent a powder form of potassium which, I am told, I can add to whatever I drink without muss or fuss. And, I will do so. Though, from what I have seen, even when I was eating more regularly and taking potassium regularly, my levels remained low. In other words, I may not even need to cheat the system to receive a preferred outcome.
I am out on a limb and all alone. If I make mistakes through ignorance or animal instinct, sue me. I have learned I can't trust the medical field, they obviously either don't trust me or can't help me in any case and as well. Fair is fair. I have taken what I can but I refuse to be subjected to the terror that taking what they offer brings. If you can do it, fine. But don't even compare apples to oranges and ask me why the acidic difference. I do the best I can with what I have and know. So, back it off. If you wish to be angry, be angry at Adam and Eve. For it is they who have killed us all. I think more of Christ, who brought me the chance to live again, and forgive.
Hmm, some aspirin, a little time to get that to work, then a bit of cleaning I think. It is a good day, the sun even came out for a short bit. Tomorrow I plan on taking my friend to Ogden. I would like to find a primer flipper tray and maybe some bullets. I can't remember what he is looking for. I could probably buy locally, but since I am going to be there I will just shop there. Oh, and my sleep study device came today. I will figure that out before I go to sleep, whenever that may be. Ah, right, I was supposed to call them and let them know it had arrived. I will do that first thing.
Later.
.
Today is better than yesterday and yesterday was better than I have been for a week. Perhaps relief in having a diagnosis, even a bad one potentially, frees me to begin making plans and doing some other things. I woke too late to do much, my sleep still troubling to obtain if it is good when it does come. Though I can't do some things I had hoped to manage today, I can do some other things on the list, mostly related to a bit of cleaning.
I am still looking for possible places for Sam and Sassy. I spoke of my concern with the missionaries who visited today and they will ask around. I keep looking for places using the internet as well. And, I thought as I was going to sleep, of calling veterinary clinics as another possible source of finding the ladies a home or homes. And yet, I need to talk to a doctor to find out what kind of window I have. I am not sure how imminent death is, only that it is almost sure at this point. I would like to minimize the time I will have to be alone.
As for suicide, that is not what this is. If I do anything, I will consider not using the potassium. It would weight the form of death to favor a heart attack. I am still not sure if I will do that though (and haven't to date). Since the pills are upsetting taken without food, which has made it so taking the potassium regularly is not doable, I am being sent a powder form of potassium which, I am told, I can add to whatever I drink without muss or fuss. And, I will do so. Though, from what I have seen, even when I was eating more regularly and taking potassium regularly, my levels remained low. In other words, I may not even need to cheat the system to receive a preferred outcome.
I am out on a limb and all alone. If I make mistakes through ignorance or animal instinct, sue me. I have learned I can't trust the medical field, they obviously either don't trust me or can't help me in any case and as well. Fair is fair. I have taken what I can but I refuse to be subjected to the terror that taking what they offer brings. If you can do it, fine. But don't even compare apples to oranges and ask me why the acidic difference. I do the best I can with what I have and know. So, back it off. If you wish to be angry, be angry at Adam and Eve. For it is they who have killed us all. I think more of Christ, who brought me the chance to live again, and forgive.
Hmm, some aspirin, a little time to get that to work, then a bit of cleaning I think. It is a good day, the sun even came out for a short bit. Tomorrow I plan on taking my friend to Ogden. I would like to find a primer flipper tray and maybe some bullets. I can't remember what he is looking for. I could probably buy locally, but since I am going to be there I will just shop there. Oh, and my sleep study device came today. I will figure that out before I go to sleep, whenever that may be. Ah, right, I was supposed to call them and let them know it had arrived. I will do that first thing.
Later.
I am beginning to think they are wrong.
.
.
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.
.
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.
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.
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