April 5
From my brain
Contents |
2010
Me 23:55, 5 April 2010 (EDT)
This has NOT been a fun night.
First of all, I knew I had a ton of homework to be done. Cooked an awesome dinner, played a bit with the kids, cleaned the table, and proceeded to go downstai...oh crap. I gotta bake bread for the house. OK, make with the bread baking.
Make the bread, head downstairs, make the post regarding the next guild gathering, and the rain starts. Rather, the thunderstorms start, which has Princess all in a tizzy, and TheBoy ain't much better. I promise to come and check on them in a bit, and then start to finish the post.
At some point, Wifey comes down, and says she's smelling something...funky. Granted, I'd eaten lots of deviled eggs during Easter dinner, but she said this was something else. Smelled like gas. We look around. We sniff around. Yeah, that's not a good smell.
We then proceed to haul the kids out of bed -- Princess had just fallen asleep -- and go out and wait in the van across the street while we call Columbia Gas to have them send a truck out. The guy comes, uses his little gadget thingy and finds...nothing. No leaks of any sort. Not at all. I mention that'd we'd turned off the dryer and the stove, but he even said that doesn't seem likely. He also said he smelled it too...but said that it's not a natural gas smell.
So, back to my bread and homework. Slightly burn the bread while working on my homework. I'm sitting here with a box fan blowing on me to make sure that fumes aren't building up, and the homework has made my head hurt. It's either that, or whatever the hell is causing that smell is screwing up my head.
I'm going to bed now. Tomorrow, no more headaches...mmmkay?
2009
Me 23:56, 5 April 2009 (EDT)
"I made it to service today." That was a phrase I said a lot today in response to "How are you feeling?" It was very overwhelming. Like, seriously, started to get misty and stuff. A half hour later, that feeling passed...as the cloud rolled in.
The car ride to church itself was bad. Not excruciating, but bad enough. Felt every big of unevenness in the highway. By the time we were even halfway to church, I practically was reaching up under my ribcage on the side to hold myself still. I've tried to describe it to people how that fluttering pain feels, but the best I can do is to have you imagine putting a glass of water on the dashboard of your car. Car is still, it might slosh a bit as people move about, or just the natural hum of the engine. Drive down the road, the water in the glass ripples all over and sloshes back and forth. That is what the pain feels like, but needles instead of water droplets.
- Side note, maybe it's not medicine. Someone out there got a voodoo doll? LOL
Anyway, got to church, car stopped, felt much better. Upper abdomen was a little tight, but long walks do that. I could have had Wifey drop me out front, but it was a gorgeous day...I need to be outside a bit. So, we walked up together. Got all the above type greetings from people as they often came out of their way when they came in to service to say hello. Otherwise, sitting in the pew was a battle of willpower to focus on the service and not feel depressed.
I wanted to sing the Liturgy. I wanted to stand throughout service as is appropriate. I wanted to do more than just a few of the key prayers and standing during the Little and Great Entrance. I felt like I was barely there...or maybe that was just the Lortab.
Service concluded, and they took up a special offering for "parishioner's in need". It's for us. I know it's for us, because Father asked us if we needed financial help. We got a check that's still in my pocket following service, and there's more coming as they can. We're gonna need this as I'm almost completely out of vacation time, and we're entering no-pay land really soon.
Coffee hour was more of the same, "How are you feeling," only more in-depth. This time, one of the doctors of the parish came over (an ER doc) and asked if I had any questions he might have. I gave him the whole spiel about all the tests, and his eyes bugged, because he said that's everything that would typically be done. "We try to completely remove any of the horrible, terrible, worrisome things right off the bat. Once those are done, it's an easier road...except for you." Everyone walked away shaking their head in the same dismay I live in every day.
By the time we got to their condo, I was spent. The stopping of the van was a joy. I mean, it was better than sex (OK, almost; sex would be nice sometime soon). I walked in the door, and barely said hi to either MIL or FIL. I just laid down on the couch. Fifteen minutes later, I was asleep. I stopped moving, the pain went away. Over and done until dinner. Got up for dinner, and blammo again.
Tomorrow is the gastroenterologist. I still don't have high hopes for him. The more and more self-analysis of my body, and the more and more this just does NOT feel like something in my stomach / intestines. It feels like the muscle. Something crazy is goign on inside of me.
Now, if I can just find a doctor who will figure out what the hell it is.
2008
Me 00:57, 5 April 2008 (EDT)
By the end of the day yesterday, the news got increasingly worse. At first, all seemed OK, and by the end, it completely exploded.
He's in jail. He's not coming out of jail for awhile now. I'm bewildered and stunned by all of it and I can't get my head around any of it. I'm in a complete and total fog, not knowing what to believe. Did I know him? Is any of it true? Is it his exes doing things?
I have no more left today.
Me 15:54, 5 April 2008 (EDT)
When a dentist gives you a shot of novacaine, they usually start off with a small numbing agent at the spot the shot goes in. Then, they give you one shot in that area that numbs a larger area. Then (depending on how much work there is to be done) more shots are administered in a widening spread so that in the end, there's this hunk of wood attached to your face that you thought was your jaw.
I was already numb to the needs of my friend. He'd closed himself off. I hadn't heard much from him in weeks, and no where near the amount of conversations we used to have back in the days of second shift. Hours on end of hanging out "having a 'moke" (even though I didn't smoke), and BSing about everything.
So on Tuesday, "administrative leave" had me curious but admittedly a bit indifferent. We just hadn't talked that much lately. Sure, when we did talk, it was like we'd been hanging around each other as much as before, but it just wasn't that daily goofball (almost blood-brother) friendship anymore. (Truth to be told, I missed it.)
By Wednesday, the weirdness was increasing. The very small group of friends started asking around, and my worry intensified. We started digging online to no avail (at first), but were still keeping our feelers open for something of use to find out what the hell was going on.
A bomb drops on Thursday. Numb. Completely. It's not true. It can't be true. It is just not possible.
Friday...Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
I'm now told that red is blue, has been all along, and I was a fool to think otherwise. I can't even put into words how I'm feeling and this flow of consciousness rambling ain't even cutting it. I tell my family members who ask, "What's wrong?" and the most I can do is relate the story. I try to explain how I'm feeling, but in the end I just rub my eyes and smooth back hair that isn't long enough to smooth back.
All this has been running through my head from 2 minutes after I woke up. I just wanted to crawl under the covers and find away to sleep more. Instead their was TKD to go to. I pushed myself hard today. Battle shouts louder than before. Kicks stronger than before. Pushups down further and up faster than before, and I'm gonna feel those muscles tonight if not in the morning.
Something that isn't numb at least.
Me 21:43, 5 April 2008 (EDT)
And because my blog is screaming for a moment of levity (or two):
- "Something that isn't numb" vs. Man Tools
- In order to get the house in shape, Wifey had me pull down the faux shutters that were on our second story windows. The problem is that over the years (the neighbor said they'd been up since the house was built, and she was in the neighborhood prior it being built).
- Well, our neighbor has one of those pressure-powerwashers. Friggin' awesome! Man tool! So, I hook the thing up, start it up, get up on the roof (Spiderman theme whistled the whole time) and get to sprayin. Well, the sprayin doesn't work, and so Wifey giggles with delight as the Mr. Clean pads she gave me (that I refused to sue) work wonders.
- However, I realize it needs to get wet. The powerwasher is still on, so I try to get the pad thingy a little wet but I can't spray directly at it cuz the water pressure will shred the pad. I try to aim off of it, and the prayer fumbles in my hands and.....I spray an eight inch tall narrow letter-V on my naked right foot.
- Bruised within seconds. Broke the skin. Looks like I got attacked by a rabid beaver.
- This is just one of those many moments where it's proof that I am dangerous with powertools. I should stick to hammers, screwdrivers, and the occasional powerdrill.
- Funniest words ever to be uttered by Princess
- Granted, I heard these last night during story time, but it was a first for Wifey
- We were finishing up with dinner, and the kids needed to go out and clean up the yard (put toys away and bikes and whatnot). In very Princess fashion, she didn't want to put her socks on, or even get them for that matter, "No, Mommy do it.". I order her to go get them at the count of 10, and as she stand there, she starts to stick her finger up her nose. I yell at her to not do it, and so she goes to hide behind Mommy to continue it. I yell at her to come back out and again tell her to stop it. She begins to cry, and says the funniest line evar:
- "But I LIKE boogers!"
- When your child says funny things when you're angry with them, you can often hold it together. Not so with the above statement. We lost it. It was so vile and disgusting, but there was just no holding back. This week had been so stressful, and the two of us were so tired, we just laughed at her.
And there ya have it...see, I have been able to laugh this week.
2007
Me 08:55, 5 April 2007 (EDT)
- This service is held in the Nave of the Church, before the Holy Doors. A small table upon which is set the Holy Book of the Gospels, a Cross, Candles, and a vessel in the middle, containing wheat; and on the wheat is placed an Oil Lamp filled with oil and a little of wine. Seven wands with cotton tips are thrust into the wheat around the lamp. These are used to anoint those who are repenting from their sins. Also, seven lit candles are thrust into the wheat around the lamp. At the completion of the service, the faithful come forward and are anointed with the Holy Oil by the Priest.
Last night was Holy Wednesday. The focus of last night was healing. Not only of the body, but of the spirit as well.
The service was far longer than the other services, but rather than just being a reflection on the week, it was an even bigger preparatory service as one of the sacraments of the church occurs at the end: Holy Unction. It partially comes from the parable of the Good Samaritan (in Luke):
- and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, and went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine
Additionally, the passage in James:
- Is any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the Name of the Lord: and the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him.
While a lengthy service, it was also very moving (as the whole week's services should be).
Father spoke briefly (or at least briefly in comparison to the rest of the service) on the differences in some people's concepts on disease/affliction vs. sin. All too often various religions (many Christian denominations in fact) view sin as the direct cause for our maladies. You sin, you get something nasty. That's not how it works though.
Often times, while we might ask for healing and may be the most spiritually "right" at a point, God sometimes ask for true "extra" leap of faith and for us to be bold enough to come to him. Father told a story of St. Gorgonia last night to illustrate this (that I found amidst this page): :Also, we have the striking example of St. Gorgonia, the sister of St. Gregory of Constantinople. She was praised by her brother for her courage and faith in God. St. Gregory notes also that when she was "dangerously ill of a malignant disease," she clutched the holy altar and prayed for God to deliver her from her illness. In telling this story, St. Gregory remembers her "declaring that she would not loosen her hold until she was made whole."
Tonight's matins will be the reading the 12 Passion gospels. We're not taking the kids as there's no way we'd be able to keep them content for that long (maybe TheBoy will be able to make it through next year), but I'm still undecided as to whether I'll go on my own or not. We'll have to see.
Me 08:57, 5 April 2007 (EDT)
In other news, I'm officially a mod developer for WoW now. Rat Race Tracker done gone public. :)
2004
Me 23:35, 05, April 2004 (EDT)
To my brain Sento la tua mancanza I miss you.
Same to my health.
