offbalance: (Scott Pilgrim - Punch)
So, after two weeks of fighting the Cough That Would Not Die, I finally made it to my regular doctor today.

Not ONLY am I recovering from ankle surgery, I now also have bronchitis. I am SO happy about this, I can't even begin to tell you. ::sigh::

I can only hope that this means that I'm getting all of my illness and badness out of the way early, and later this year, when I need to not be sick? I won't be. Fingers crossed, anyway.

The only bright spot in this really shitty time has been the actions and behaviors of my friends and loved ones. Everyone has been amazing. They've offered me rides, loaned me books and movies, come to visit and entertain me, sent me fun things to read and look at online, and basically just been all-around amazing. You guys make me feel so loved and awesome and lucky I'm tearing up as I write this.

[livejournal.com profile] j_bkl, I feel I have to say, has been incredible through this entire thing, too. He's gone so far above and beyond without even so much as a grumble. This is why I'm going to be Mrs. [livejournal.com profile] j_bkl in a few months, kids. Because so far, he's displayed that no matter how crap things get, he's just going to square his shoulders and do his best to fix things. And the rest of my family, too - my parents have been amazing (as usual) and [livejournal.com profile] quasisonic has been here at the drop of a hat whenever I've needed her. So that's the good stuff I'm trying to focus on.

In the meanwhile, I'm just going to do my best to deal. Maybe next week I can imitate the Battlestar Galactica skit on Portlandia if that's still on Netflix. Or maybe work on some creative ideas buzzing around my brain. We'll see. In the meantime, there's going to be bed.
offbalance: (Scott Pilgrim - Punch)
So, yesterday, I saw my doc for the follow up. And I got the full prognosis/report.

Things are not nearly as positive as I'd hoped/thought.

For starters, there was a LOT more wrong with the ankle than just shards of cartilage everywhere. My mom swears that she and the doc explained this to me after the surgery, but did agree that it was entirely possible that information wasn't permeating my drug-addled state.

So basically the situation is this. Yes, the cartilage broke and flew every which and painful way possible. What's more, is that a big ass piece of bone also broke. And was also bouncing around amidst the cartilage, having fun with all the nerves and things you find in an ankle. There's even pictures from the surgery! The doctor had to remove the chipped-off section of bone, and drill holes in the remaining bone to promote blood flow and stimulate the regrowth of the chipped section. I'm also on Glucosamin for that purpose.

That's the good news.

The not-so-good news? Crutches. For six weeks. No weight on the left leg. For six weeks. Doc took the dressing off, but made it abundantly clear that the foot can't hold weight. It can be used for occasional balance (like showers) but nothing much more.

That also means no subway. And just trying to get from my apartment to the car on the crutches is an ordeal. Forget trying to go three avenues and two blocks to the express bus. Not to mention that gettng into the bus itself would not work. To say that I'm not great on the crutches is an understatement. Sunday night I almost broke a toe on the side opposite the broken ankle because I swung my leg into the crutch. (Doc said it wasn't broken, but it's bruised and hurting almost as badly.)

So I called work. I told them the deal and said that I would be happy to either work from home or come in if someone wanted to send a car for me to do so. HR was not interested in this. (I'm sure on crutches I'm a Workman's Comp claim waiting to happen). So it looks like I'm going to have to take some short-term disability time for the next month or so. My bosses were pretty understanding about the whole thing, surprisingly. I guess no one wants this kind of thing to happen to them, so there's no point of giving someone crap about it. One boss pointed out that me being exhausted from traveling and in pain every day might not be the best thing, and maybe it's just better for me to get better and come back after.

She's not wrong - I am in pain. Today was the first day I didn't really need the painkillers the doc prescribed for post-surgery. Naturally, I felt guilty about not feeling so badly. My brain says all sorts of nasty things to me unless I'm absolutely cross-eyed with pain. It wears on you after awhile. The brainweasles actually convinced me tonight that I could probably stand up and be just fine, since laying down didn't hurt anymore.

Brainweasles are not smart animals.

It hurt. Very much. I stood by my couch for a second - just stood! - and saw stars. Ankle has been yelling at me about this poor life choice for an hour or so now. Ankle definitely hurts again. ::sigh::

I love time off as much as the next guy, but I'm tired of feeling useless and helpless. [livejournal.com profile] j_bkl has had to do so much for me the last few days that I'm actually concerned about him going back to work tomorrow. I hate that I have to feel this way. And that for the next 5 or so weeks, I'm going to be this damn way. I'm someone who cherishes their independence and self-sufficiency, and all of that is pretty much out the window right now. It's going to be hard not to be depressed about it.

That's pretty much the lay of the land right now. Home for the next month or so. Not happy about it. Not really much to do about it except catch up on some movie and tv viewings and maybe do something creative, too. We'll see. I'll be doing whatever I have to do in order to get better and not go insane in the process.
offbalance: (Bones - Jeffersonian)
So, surgery wound up being no big at all. I was all freaked out that they'd turn me away because of this post nasal cough that arrived at the beginning of the week. But not so! The anesthesiologist gave me a few puffs of hospital grade albuterol and I was fine. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

J and I worked out that the best plan for surgery would be that my parents would take point on the day of the procedure, and he'd stick it out with me at home for most of the recovery. So, my mom and dad arrived at 5:30 am on Thursday to take me to the part of the hospital that deals with outpatient surgeries of all kinds. Can't lie, I was a bit nervous. Also, unpleased at being up so gorram early. Still, I discovered that I was first in line, which wasn't all bad. My mom stayed with me as we waited, and the place was empty.

And if you're in need of a hospital, I have to say I've been very impressed with Maimonides so far. Everything is clean and relatively new, and all of the staff I've dealt with were really and truly nice. For someone to be upbeat and cheerful at 6:30 in the morning? That means something. And all of the RNs I worked with were really great. One came over and took my blood pressure and temperature, the other did another checkup on me. Then I met my anesthesia team (go team!) which was a clever way to explain that two hot doctors would be giving me nice knockout drugs. There was a really funny scrub nurse, too. I got to sit in a nice recliner and talk to this whole bunch of people as I got ready for the surgery.

I chatted with my doctor and another doctor who would be working with him (likely a resident or intern). I'm used to just seeing my doc in his office, but as it turns out, he's an attending, and seems to love to teach. He was talking to the other doc about an article he read that the other doctor would find useful. I'm a big fan of teaching hospitals, and like seeing older and newer doctors working together, so this made me extra happy.

After a bunch of tests and checks and forms to sign, I was wheeled into the OR and put on a stretcher. They put an IV in my hand (ow) and told me I might feel a burning sensation. Shortly after said sensation, I was down for the count.

A short time (to me) later, I woke up thinking that [livejournal.com profile] katiebea was pushing me along to recovery. I asked her what she was doing there, only to be informed that this very nice recovery nurse was not, in fact, [livejournal.com profile] katiebea. (I was on drugs and without glasses, so I think it was hardly the worst thing that could have happened). I was groggy and disoriented and thirsty as all get out. I was given water and told to sleep. Tried that, didn't work, eventually got more water and someone delivered my mom, who had been holding my glasses. My doc also stopped by to tell me how it went. I remember some things, but in the state I was in, Nathan Fillion could have professed his love to me and I would have barely remembered.

The gist is this: ankle was more fucked than we thought. Shards of cartilage (also the name of my new metal band) were everywhere, and causing all sorts of pain and inflammation to the ankle, which he sucked out with his magical medical machines. Doc had to drill holes in the bone to promote new growth, and I'm going to have to stay off it for longer than originally hoped.

On the bright side, though? I feel BETTER. No, seriously. My ankle is a bit sore but keeps insisting in some way that it's much happier. It hurts way less than it did for the cortizone shot, and it's obvious now as to why. The recovery part frustrates me. I'm not a good patient. I hate the crutches, and the inability to take A Real Shower. (Operation: Wash Hair will likely occur tomorrow and will involve my kitchen sink and help from my mom and/or sister. ) I hate that I have to be waited on. [livejournal.com profile] j_bkl has been taking good care of me, bringing me all sorts of things, moving furniture around to accommodate my gimpy ass, and being a source of love, a source of humor, and a source of positivity, which only helps with the healing process. And friends and family have been popping up in droves with offers of help and company and entertainment, making me feel really loved. And J's folks sent me a big bouquet of lovely flowers, too. They're decorating the coffee table, which has been moved to make room for gimpy.

I'll have more complete details about what's the what after I see my doc on Monday. In the meantime, I have much tv to watch and much healing to do. And I dearly hope that the Rangers manage a few shots on goal already, they're already down by 1 with 6:45 left in the first period. Come ON, guys!
offbalance: (yankees - Coney Perfect)
Ugh. So usually the best thing about my CSA is that I start eating lots and lots and lots of leafy green vegetables. A better lunch for a better America and all that.

Only problem is that after a week or three of that many salads, my stomach usually rebels in a majorly epic way. A "No, fuck you!" way, as [livejournal.com profile] antheia might say. (Speaking of, happy birthday, doll!)

So I feel like I have gravel in my stomach at the moment. I have less than no interest in food, but my body insists on being annoying and getting hungry at times. (The nerve!) I'm doing my best, but I'm guessing I'm going to have to revert to eating like a three-year-old for a day or two while things reset and my stomach decides to stop being full of gravel.

And naturally, I have a fridge full of all sorts of lovely leafy greens. Of course.

I finished Bobby Murcer's memoir (Yankee for Life) today. It was excellent. Bobby was always a favorite of mine in the broadcast booth, and I was positively crushed when he passed. He seemed like such a genuinely nice guy, too. I loved his games, it was kind of like having a cool older relative sit with you and talk to you about the game in such a way that you felt more informed after. (Kind of like watching sports with my dad.) It was weird - reading the book, I could totally hear his voice just like I did for so many Yankee games over the years. And for my money, I will stand by the fact that my favorite broadcast team will always be Murcer, Jim Katt, and Michael Kay (back before his head grew to unnatural sizes). Yes, Scooter was fun and all, but he was gone by the time the 1996 team rolled around, and when I really got swept up in the pennant race and fell in love with the team in a way I hadn't loved them before. So it was nice to have Bobby back, in a way. It was also hard as hell to read about his diagnosis and fight with cancer, and how upbeat it was, knowing something he didn't know as of the writing of the book. I just hope that somewhere, Field of Dreams is real, and he's hanging with Munson and Mantle and some of the other guys right now.

Otherwise, not much to report on. Work was as usual - like hitting myself in the face with a nerf bat over and over again (not painful, but more than annoying). Our team won trivia yesterday by half a point, which was pretty cool. And now I have to decide between reading two books, but I think Game of Thrones will win that dogfight. Annd I'm going bridal gown shopping on Friday. Hopefully that will be less painful than I'm fearing. (Bringing a team of aces with me - my mom, [livejournal.com profile] quasisonic and [livejournal.com profile] blergeatkitty, so hopefully we can get something accomplished).

Tonight I got home in time to watch the Yankee game. I even got to watch a bunch with my dad over the phone. Talking to him was fun, my new tv has a great picture, and my apartment had a/c, so I was ready to settle in with some baseball goodness. Of course, they lost. I think that about sums up today. *sigh*
offbalance: (yankees - Coney Perfect)
Ugh. So usually the best thing about my CSA is that I start eating lots and lots and lots of leafy green vegetables. A better lunch for a better America and all that.

Only problem is that after a week or three of that many salads, my stomach usually rebels in a majorly epic way. A "No, fuck you!" way, as [livejournal.com profile] antheia might say. (Speaking of, happy birthday, doll!)

So I feel like I have gravel in my stomach at the moment. I have less than no interest in food, but my body insists on being annoying and getting hungry at times. (The nerve!) I'm doing my best, but I'm guessing I'm going to have to revert to eating like a three-year-old for a day or two while things reset and my stomach decides to stop being full of gravel.

And naturally, I have a fridge full of all sorts of lovely leafy greens. Of course.

I finished Bobby Murcer's memoir (Yankee for Life) today. It was excellent. Bobby was always a favorite of mine in the broadcast booth, and I was positively crushed when he passed. He seemed like such a genuinely nice guy, too. I loved his games, it was kind of like having a cool older relative sit with you and talk to you about the game in such a way that you felt more informed after. (Kind of like watching sports with my dad.) It was weird - reading the book, I could totally hear his voice just like I did for so many Yankee games over the years. And for my money, I will stand by the fact that my favorite broadcast team will always be Murcer, Jim Katt, and Michael Kay (back before his head grew to unnatural sizes). Yes, Scooter was fun and all, but he was gone by the time the 1996 team rolled around, and when I really got swept up in the pennant race and fell in love with the team in a way I hadn't loved them before. So it was nice to have Bobby back, in a way. It was also hard as hell to read about his diagnosis and fight with cancer, and how upbeat it was, knowing something he didn't know as of the writing of the book. I just hope that somewhere, Field of Dreams is real, and he's hanging with Munson and Mantle and some of the other guys right now.

Otherwise, not much to report on. Work was as usual - like hitting myself in the face with a nerf bat over and over again (not painful, but more than annoying). Our team won trivia yesterday by half a point, which was pretty cool. And now I have to decide between reading two books, but I think Game of Thrones will win that dogfight. Annd I'm going bridal gown shopping on Friday. Hopefully that will be less painful than I'm fearing. (Bringing a team of aces with me - my mom, [livejournal.com profile] quasisonic and [livejournal.com profile] blergeatkitty, so hopefully we can get something accomplished).

Tonight I got home in time to watch the Yankee game. I even got to watch a bunch with my dad over the phone. Talking to him was fun, my new tv has a great picture, and my apartment had a/c, so I was ready to settle in with some baseball goodness. Of course, they lost. I think that about sums up today. *sigh*
offbalance: (Scott Pilgrim - Punch)
So, the pain has gone down. Last night, on a scale of one to ten, I was nearly up to fifteen. It was bad news. On top of that, I couldn't put any weight on my left leg. If I tried to act like it was a normal leg, it would buckle and I would tip over. Not good. I had to sleep like an ancient Egyptian painting, and even that wasn't all that comfortable. (Poor [livejournal.com profile] j_bkl was kept up by my tossing and flailing.) I really didn't appreciate just how important my ankles really were until this, and how much they do that I just didn't appreciate. Like turning over in bed. That has a lot to do with your heels and ankles. As I discovered last night, trying not to scream. I slept in fits and starts, before finally passing out at one point for a few hours.

Then there was a trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night. That was fun. It was dark, I had one working leg, and the path wasn't exactly perfectly clear. Ugh.

It was abundantly clear at 7am that while the pain had dropped to a comparatively more manageable 9 on the scale of doom, I still couldn't stand on it. Or really walk. I could do a sort of hobble-hop-lurch between bed and the bathroom, but not too much more. The subway was not going to happen. And as a result, neither was work. What was really frustrating was that tonight was Star Wars/Star Trek trivia night at rope, something I was really looking forward to, was likely out, too. I was NOT happy. I called out of work, and was able to get a tiny bit of sleep.

I spoke to my parents early on, and as it turned out, they had a spare cane I could borrow. Mom brought the cane over and it's helped quite a bit, especially as standing and walking are still really fucking awful things to do. So far, laying flat, the ankle only hurts a little. Standing and walking still suck though. Like a big sucking thing.

Naturally, I called my doctor's office during the day about all of this. I learned the following:
1. This is considered normal after you get a cortizone shot. Perfectly normal. WHAT.
2. When I'd originally asked if I should plan for time off of work after the shot, the doc's assistant told me that wouldn't be necessary. It turns out, she didn't realize I'd be getting a cortizone shot. She just thought I'd be getting a "regular" shot. Granted, she was super apologetic about this, and granted, as she doesn't have a medical degree, it's not her fault. But holy hell, would it have killed my doc to perhaps mention the fact that I should clear my schedule after one of these? JFC. I realize that to a doctor I'm a puzzle to solve with a copay, but in fact I have a life and a job and commitments. He and I will have words about this, oh yes we will.

So yeah. Here I am. Not sure if I'm going to make it to the office tomorrow, either. I am so fucking frustrated right now I could scream. Why is it so hard to just provide the information I asked for, and was told was 'not going to be an issue.' GAH.

So now all I can do is wait. And hope. And possibly worry. But honestly? I'm too fucking exhausted to do any of these things. Hurting is a big energy drain, apparently. *sigh*
offbalance: (Scott Pilgrim - Punch)
So, the pain has gone down. Last night, on a scale of one to ten, I was nearly up to fifteen. It was bad news. On top of that, I couldn't put any weight on my left leg. If I tried to act like it was a normal leg, it would buckle and I would tip over. Not good. I had to sleep like an ancient Egyptian painting, and even that wasn't all that comfortable. (Poor [livejournal.com profile] j_bkl was kept up by my tossing and flailing.) I really didn't appreciate just how important my ankles really were until this, and how much they do that I just didn't appreciate. Like turning over in bed. That has a lot to do with your heels and ankles. As I discovered last night, trying not to scream. I slept in fits and starts, before finally passing out at one point for a few hours.

Then there was a trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night. That was fun. It was dark, I had one working leg, and the path wasn't exactly perfectly clear. Ugh.

It was abundantly clear at 7am that while the pain had dropped to a comparatively more manageable 9 on the scale of doom, I still couldn't stand on it. Or really walk. I could do a sort of hobble-hop-lurch between bed and the bathroom, but not too much more. The subway was not going to happen. And as a result, neither was work. What was really frustrating was that tonight was Star Wars/Star Trek trivia night at rope, something I was really looking forward to, was likely out, too. I was NOT happy. I called out of work, and was able to get a tiny bit of sleep.

I spoke to my parents early on, and as it turned out, they had a spare cane I could borrow. Mom brought the cane over and it's helped quite a bit, especially as standing and walking are still really fucking awful things to do. So far, laying flat, the ankle only hurts a little. Standing and walking still suck though. Like a big sucking thing.

Naturally, I called my doctor's office during the day about all of this. I learned the following:
1. This is considered normal after you get a cortizone shot. Perfectly normal. WHAT.
2. When I'd originally asked if I should plan for time off of work after the shot, the doc's assistant told me that wouldn't be necessary. It turns out, she didn't realize I'd be getting a cortizone shot. She just thought I'd be getting a "regular" shot. Granted, she was super apologetic about this, and granted, as she doesn't have a medical degree, it's not her fault. But holy hell, would it have killed my doc to perhaps mention the fact that I should clear my schedule after one of these? JFC. I realize that to a doctor I'm a puzzle to solve with a copay, but in fact I have a life and a job and commitments. He and I will have words about this, oh yes we will.

So yeah. Here I am. Not sure if I'm going to make it to the office tomorrow, either. I am so fucking frustrated right now I could scream. Why is it so hard to just provide the information I asked for, and was told was 'not going to be an issue.' GAH.

So now all I can do is wait. And hope. And possibly worry. But honestly? I'm too fucking exhausted to do any of these things. Hurting is a big energy drain, apparently. *sigh*
offbalance: (Bridget fuuuuuuck by iamjoey)
I'm no stranger to pain. I've been through stuff.

Some of you may rememberHumpty Dumpty's great fall down the Rockefeller Center stairs and the biopsy from hell that followed. My battle with migraines are well documented. And hell, just for the sake of thorughness and TMI, before I went on the pill, I had menstrual cramps that could drop a weightlifter.

All of this to say that I discovered a level of pain that kicks all of these down to the "oops I bumped my elbow" level. (This is a handy chart for reference.)

As most of you know, back during the blizzard I sprained my ankle. It hurt a lot, so I went to an orthopedist who pronounced it sprained and sent me for some PT. The PT wasn't going as well or as quickly as anyone thought it should, so I was back at the doctor a week or so ago. That trip resulted in an MRI.

(which was a whole other kettle of fish. I thought I'd be fine, as most of my claustrophobia is triggered by a feeling of being trapped, and not confined spaces, and I figured since I was going in feet first, I'd be fine. Not so much. But I endured.)

Turns out, I have a torn ligament, and have a chipped ankle. Which is really a bit of torn cartilage flapping back and forth and banging against nerves. Painful. Annoying. And often inconsistent.

So, the doctor said our next course of action would be a cortizone shot. Fine then, athletes get them all the time! No big deal! It'll help! Jeter or A-Rod gets one and they're back hitting home runs in no time!

See, I might be able to describe this as a similar sensation to having a rusty steel spike being driven into my angle at a jaunty angle, but I'm not sure that really expresses it quite vividly enough. Walking hurts, sitting hurts, ice does nothing. And thanks to my stupid body's inability to tolerate naproxen or ibuprofen, I am at tylenol's mercy. Not a good place to be.

So yeah. I'm in rotten shape, LJ. Sorry to come over just to whine, but this is a level of pain for the record books. *whimper*
offbalance: (Bridget fuuuuuuck by iamjoey)
I'm no stranger to pain. I've been through stuff.

Some of you may rememberHumpty Dumpty's great fall down the Rockefeller Center stairs and the biopsy from hell that followed. My battle with migraines are well documented. And hell, just for the sake of thorughness and TMI, before I went on the pill, I had menstrual cramps that could drop a weightlifter.

All of this to say that I discovered a level of pain that kicks all of these down to the "oops I bumped my elbow" level. (This is a handy chart for reference.)

As most of you know, back during the blizzard I sprained my ankle. It hurt a lot, so I went to an orthopedist who pronounced it sprained and sent me for some PT. The PT wasn't going as well or as quickly as anyone thought it should, so I was back at the doctor a week or so ago. That trip resulted in an MRI.

(which was a whole other kettle of fish. I thought I'd be fine, as most of my claustrophobia is triggered by a feeling of being trapped, and not confined spaces, and I figured since I was going in feet first, I'd be fine. Not so much. But I endured.)

Turns out, I have a torn ligament, and have a chipped ankle. Which is really a bit of torn cartilage flapping back and forth and banging against nerves. Painful. Annoying. And often inconsistent.

So, the doctor said our next course of action would be a cortizone shot. Fine then, athletes get them all the time! No big deal! It'll help! Jeter or A-Rod gets one and they're back hitting home runs in no time!

See, I might be able to describe this as a similar sensation to having a rusty steel spike being driven into my angle at a jaunty angle, but I'm not sure that really expresses it quite vividly enough. Walking hurts, sitting hurts, ice does nothing. And thanks to my stupid body's inability to tolerate naproxen or ibuprofen, I am at tylenol's mercy. Not a good place to be.

So yeah. I'm in rotten shape, LJ. Sorry to come over just to whine, but this is a level of pain for the record books. *whimper*
offbalance: (Scott Pilgrim - Punch)
I was home ALL day today with an absolutely crippling migraine.

Now, I've had them before, and usually I can take some meds and grin and bear it through work. But not today. Let's just say my stomach said FUUU early on and wasn't letting anybody in (but everybody else had to leave). Ugh. I hate calling out when Boss T is out, but there was just no damn way I was doing anything. And as it turns out, it wasn't a bad call. I think I slept for at least 85% of the day today, and I still don't feel awesome. Light still kind of sucks, but nearly as much as it did earlier. Eating helped, even though my taste buds are all fucked up.

The fun part of migraines, at least for me, is that every sense I have is turned up to eleven. Lights are too bright, flavors are overwhelming, smells I would usually be able to ignore level me. And yet, in a marvelous Princess Bride-style twist, my hearing is largely unaffected. I've gotten weird looks from people about why I have my ipod on when commuting with a migraine, but if given the choice between the sweet, soft voices available to me on my music player and the screeching hell of subway breaks, it's not exactly a difficult decision. Even so, I'm hyper-sensitive to high pitched sounds, but find things on the lower level of the bass scale soothing. (Sense of touch is unaffected, but the rest of me is so fucked up I couldn't even tell if it was. Every nerve is on high alert, so it'd make sense if it was affected). Today was like a shovel to the face, and someone putting my brain through a meat slicer. And yet, it remained active throughout all of this. So, I took to the idiot box, because being anywhere near a computer was right out until now. And even now is decidedly unfun.

Thankfully [livejournal.com profile] j_bkl was off today, and is the kind of rockstar fiance that troops out to the store to buy me things like gatorade and seltzer and saltines. He's been super ace, and deserves massive kudos.

One thing I discovered is that Lost In Translation is a great movie to watch if you have a migraine. It's dark. It's slow-moving, and largely quiet. No shouting, or things going boom, or even much loud music. It lulled me to sleep and then I woke up for a little while and fell back again. Not too bad. I usually watch Wings of Desire if I'm sick because the stream-of-consciousness narrative makes even more sense in an altered state, and it's also largely quiet and meditative. (Until the Nick Cave part, but that's okay, because it's Nick Cave and he's awesome.) But Lost in Translation was on cable, and watching Wings of Desire would have required standing up, finding the DVD, opening the case, and figuring out how to work the dvd player. More than I could handle, basically. Blah.

And if that wasn't bad enough, my wonderful prescription plan told me today that as of June 30, it's not going to cover my birth control pills anymore (well, they're not "preferred" medication. Fuck you, CVS, they're preferred for ME.). I could have the generic version that made me crazypants, or pay a higher copay for the one I have now. UGH. Luckily, I had one refill left that I ordered right quickly and that brings me to 5 1/2 months before I have to see my doc anyway and see what we want to do. Just further proof that the war on women continues! God forbid I don't want to be a baby factory or, I don't know, not suffer debilitating cramps and hormone fluctuations every month. Urgh. I'm contemplating Seasonique and some of those other ones that limit your periods, too. Wonder how they'd work with my freaky DNA. J seems to think I can give them or HR an argument about it, I'm mildly sure it's a waste of time, but I guess it's only my time I have to waste.

Later I was overcome with the desire to listen to the greatest AM radio hits of the 70s. I don't even know, but I figure it's music designed for fried brains, so there's that. Dunno why, but I somehow wound up with copies of Billboard's Greatest Hits of 1973 and 1975, and they're kind of ruling my world right now. (Yes, I apparently know every word to "Delta Dawn." What.) It's weird. Music in that early part of the 70s is on the cheesy end of awesome and soothing me a lot right now, so I'm not fighting it.

I'm starting to feel worn out again, thanks to my vigorous day of laying around with a bag of ice over my forehead, so I should probably do that. But what the crap. I needed today like a hole in the head.

Ooh, bad choice of words.

(speaking of words, I'm currently on the iPhone/Android sensation known as Words with Friends with this exact username. Hit me up if you wanna play.)
offbalance: (Scott Pilgrim - Punch)
I was home ALL day today with an absolutely crippling migraine.

Now, I've had them before, and usually I can take some meds and grin and bear it through work. But not today. Let's just say my stomach said FUUU early on and wasn't letting anybody in (but everybody else had to leave). Ugh. I hate calling out when Boss T is out, but there was just no damn way I was doing anything. And as it turns out, it wasn't a bad call. I think I slept for at least 85% of the day today, and I still don't feel awesome. Light still kind of sucks, but nearly as much as it did earlier. Eating helped, even though my taste buds are all fucked up.

The fun part of migraines, at least for me, is that every sense I have is turned up to eleven. Lights are too bright, flavors are overwhelming, smells I would usually be able to ignore level me. And yet, in a marvelous Princess Bride-style twist, my hearing is largely unaffected. I've gotten weird looks from people about why I have my ipod on when commuting with a migraine, but if given the choice between the sweet, soft voices available to me on my music player and the screeching hell of subway breaks, it's not exactly a difficult decision. Even so, I'm hyper-sensitive to high pitched sounds, but find things on the lower level of the bass scale soothing. (Sense of touch is unaffected, but the rest of me is so fucked up I couldn't even tell if it was. Every nerve is on high alert, so it'd make sense if it was affected). Today was like a shovel to the face, and someone putting my brain through a meat slicer. And yet, it remained active throughout all of this. So, I took to the idiot box, because being anywhere near a computer was right out until now. And even now is decidedly unfun.

Thankfully [livejournal.com profile] j_bkl was off today, and is the kind of rockstar fiance that troops out to the store to buy me things like gatorade and seltzer and saltines. He's been super ace, and deserves massive kudos.

One thing I discovered is that Lost In Translation is a great movie to watch if you have a migraine. It's dark. It's slow-moving, and largely quiet. No shouting, or things going boom, or even much loud music. It lulled me to sleep and then I woke up for a little while and fell back again. Not too bad. I usually watch Wings of Desire if I'm sick because the stream-of-consciousness narrative makes even more sense in an altered state, and it's also largely quiet and meditative. (Until the Nick Cave part, but that's okay, because it's Nick Cave and he's awesome.) But Lost in Translation was on cable, and watching Wings of Desire would have required standing up, finding the DVD, opening the case, and figuring out how to work the dvd player. More than I could handle, basically. Blah.

And if that wasn't bad enough, my wonderful prescription plan told me today that as of June 30, it's not going to cover my birth control pills anymore (well, they're not "preferred" medication. Fuck you, CVS, they're preferred for ME.). I could have the generic version that made me crazypants, or pay a higher copay for the one I have now. UGH. Luckily, I had one refill left that I ordered right quickly and that brings me to 5 1/2 months before I have to see my doc anyway and see what we want to do. Just further proof that the war on women continues! God forbid I don't want to be a baby factory or, I don't know, not suffer debilitating cramps and hormone fluctuations every month. Urgh. I'm contemplating Seasonique and some of those other ones that limit your periods, too. Wonder how they'd work with my freaky DNA. J seems to think I can give them or HR an argument about it, I'm mildly sure it's a waste of time, but I guess it's only my time I have to waste.

Later I was overcome with the desire to listen to the greatest AM radio hits of the 70s. I don't even know, but I figure it's music designed for fried brains, so there's that. Dunno why, but I somehow wound up with copies of Billboard's Greatest Hits of 1973 and 1975, and they're kind of ruling my world right now. (Yes, I apparently know every word to "Delta Dawn." What.) It's weird. Music in that early part of the 70s is on the cheesy end of awesome and soothing me a lot right now, so I'm not fighting it.

I'm starting to feel worn out again, thanks to my vigorous day of laying around with a bag of ice over my forehead, so I should probably do that. But what the crap. I needed today like a hole in the head.

Ooh, bad choice of words.

(speaking of words, I'm currently on the iPhone/Android sensation known as Words with Friends with this exact username. Hit me up if you wanna play.)
offbalance: (mm how do you like me now)
You guys. It's been a week, let me tell you.

See, a week plus ago I had a cold. It sucked, but colds often do. Problem was that this cold decided it'd be cool to turn my chest into a crash pad. This being several varieties of not on, I saw my doc, and he gave me another asthma inhaler to work with the one I usually use for emergencies. Hokay? Hokay. For a day or two it did what it needed to and all was fine. Then one day I felt a little jumpy after taking my morning dose. And it went all downhill from there.

The rest of the week played out like a version of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas for weenies. This shit made me paranoid, anxious, distracted, jittery - basically convinced I was smack in the middle of Bat Country. Not. Fun. Especially at work.

Of course, this doesn't occur in a week where I can hide in my house and wait for the chemically-induced crazy to pass. Nope! This was a week with Shit! Going! On! Every day, there was something else. Dinner Monday night with friends at a Mexican restaurant (wherein the waiter not only forgot to put in my order, but told me there was no avocado in what I ordered, when there totally was. Manager/Owner saved the night with a free cocktail and lots of apologies, but wtf). Tuesday was Trivia, Wednesday a night off, and yesterday was [livejournal.com profile] whtegrlwthehair's bday celebration (which was awesome), and tonight I get to see [livejournal.com profile] redstapler for a bit before running into Brooklyn for the fundraiser that [livejournal.com profile] quasisonic's husband put together for Tsunami/Earthquake victims in Japan. Tomorrow? More [livejournal.com profile] redstapler after a doc visit and some time with the folks. I don't plan to move on Sunday, but that may get torpedoed. The tired. I has it.

Only other thing of note this week is that we have officially booked our wedding venue!! :D One thing down, 2389473479 to go, but that's a BIG piece of the puzzle taken care of. Still, it was hard to enjoy thanks to the fact that I was tweaking my brains out at the time. I'm excited and freaked out all at the same time. This shit is daunting. But onward and upward, as always.
offbalance: (mm how do you like me now)
You guys. It's been a week, let me tell you.

See, a week plus ago I had a cold. It sucked, but colds often do. Problem was that this cold decided it'd be cool to turn my chest into a crash pad. This being several varieties of not on, I saw my doc, and he gave me another asthma inhaler to work with the one I usually use for emergencies. Hokay? Hokay. For a day or two it did what it needed to and all was fine. Then one day I felt a little jumpy after taking my morning dose. And it went all downhill from there.

The rest of the week played out like a version of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas for weenies. This shit made me paranoid, anxious, distracted, jittery - basically convinced I was smack in the middle of Bat Country. Not. Fun. Especially at work.

Of course, this doesn't occur in a week where I can hide in my house and wait for the chemically-induced crazy to pass. Nope! This was a week with Shit! Going! On! Every day, there was something else. Dinner Monday night with friends at a Mexican restaurant (wherein the waiter not only forgot to put in my order, but told me there was no avocado in what I ordered, when there totally was. Manager/Owner saved the night with a free cocktail and lots of apologies, but wtf). Tuesday was Trivia, Wednesday a night off, and yesterday was [livejournal.com profile] whtegrlwthehair's bday celebration (which was awesome), and tonight I get to see [livejournal.com profile] redstapler for a bit before running into Brooklyn for the fundraiser that [livejournal.com profile] quasisonic's husband put together for Tsunami/Earthquake victims in Japan. Tomorrow? More [livejournal.com profile] redstapler after a doc visit and some time with the folks. I don't plan to move on Sunday, but that may get torpedoed. The tired. I has it.

Only other thing of note this week is that we have officially booked our wedding venue!! :D One thing down, 2389473479 to go, but that's a BIG piece of the puzzle taken care of. Still, it was hard to enjoy thanks to the fact that I was tweaking my brains out at the time. I'm excited and freaked out all at the same time. This shit is daunting. But onward and upward, as always.
offbalance: (SPN - Carry On)
There is no anxiety like the anxiety you feel the night before you have to go back to work/school after a vacation. Despite a lovely day with the family [livejournal.com profile] reppep and an awesome time celebrating a birthday with friends last night, I'm a bit of a nervous wreck right now. I mean, I was busting my butt to make sure things were reasonably in order and up-to-date before I left, but I always fear that The Great Something will sweep down out of the sky and cause havoc.

Let me put it this way. I'm sitting here, somewhat disappointed that i don't have [livejournal.com profile] quasisonic's stomachpocalypse that she was down with half of last week. And then I think that if I stay home more, whatever the Great Something is will get worse, and worse for me, so I then start worrying that I do have it. Gah.

I think I need a shower and bed. Yes. This is a good idea.

But I just have to remember the important stuff:

1. I do not suck. (seriously, this is something I have to remind myself of, nearly daily).

2. I have the most awesome, awesome friends ever ever ever, which makes me lucky.

3. I have [livejournal.com profile] j_bkl, which is the Earl-grey flavored icing on the cake.

4. Worrying feels like it's accomplishing something, but it's not, and I need to remember self care and sleep and to not drive myself crazy and thereby undo all the good stuff this vacation did for me.

I'm going to leave you all with a word to the wise: If you're planning to see Benedict Cumberbatch in Danny Boyle's Frankenstein adaptation, do not watch Galaxy Quest beforehand. Or even think about the movie too much. Trust me, you can thank me later.
offbalance: (SPN - Carry On)
There is no anxiety like the anxiety you feel the night before you have to go back to work/school after a vacation. Despite a lovely day with the family [livejournal.com profile] reppep and an awesome time celebrating a birthday with friends last night, I'm a bit of a nervous wreck right now. I mean, I was busting my butt to make sure things were reasonably in order and up-to-date before I left, but I always fear that The Great Something will sweep down out of the sky and cause havoc.

Let me put it this way. I'm sitting here, somewhat disappointed that i don't have [livejournal.com profile] quasisonic's stomachpocalypse that she was down with half of last week. And then I think that if I stay home more, whatever the Great Something is will get worse, and worse for me, so I then start worrying that I do have it. Gah.

I think I need a shower and bed. Yes. This is a good idea.

But I just have to remember the important stuff:

1. I do not suck. (seriously, this is something I have to remind myself of, nearly daily).

2. I have the most awesome, awesome friends ever ever ever, which makes me lucky.

3. I have [livejournal.com profile] j_bkl, which is the Earl-grey flavored icing on the cake.

4. Worrying feels like it's accomplishing something, but it's not, and I need to remember self care and sleep and to not drive myself crazy and thereby undo all the good stuff this vacation did for me.

I'm going to leave you all with a word to the wise: If you're planning to see Benedict Cumberbatch in Danny Boyle's Frankenstein adaptation, do not watch Galaxy Quest beforehand. Or even think about the movie too much. Trust me, you can thank me later.
offbalance: (mm serious as german film)
Hey, LJ. How's life?

Yeah, yeah, been awhile.

Work has been kicking my ass hardcore. I know that's what I usually say, but it's especially true lately. I feel kind of drained when I get home and not particularly like sharing. Which is too bad, because I have things to say for a change.

No idea what order I should put them in, but here's what's "up" with me at the moment:

1. I am now the proud owner of a sprained ankle. Apparently, I've been for some time. Said ankle had been bothering me a LOT ever since the Christmas snowpocalypse, when in my climbing over hill and dale I must have rolled or twisted it just a little too much. Then, I proceeded to walk on it for several months, not wanting to admit something was wrong. That finally came to a head during my vacation, and J all but frogmarched me to the doctor himself. So, after a visit to the doctor, I was handed a prescription for more PT. Yay. I like my therapist a lot better this time, he's a lot more knowledgeable than my last go-round, and I feel like we're making some progress. The truly frustrating part is how much time I have to spend off of my ankle, icing it and resting it, so it will heal. Anyone who knows how deeply I abhor sitting still for ages and not being able to walk a lot could tell you how very much I hate this.

1a. This has been complicated by feeling kind of nauseated and under the weather the last couple of days. Last week I wondered if I wasn't coming down with a cold. This time, I've been feeling fluish, but nothing blows up into actual symptoms. It's as fun as it sounds. I'd be doing more of the exercises I can actually do, but my stomach has been acting up so much I feel worn out and not really like doing much of anything. Blah.

2. When not feeling physically meh, I've been a little bundle of rage focused at all of these asshole politicians that want to do things like defund Planned Parenthood, legalize the murder of abortion doctors, and basically strip my rights away until I'm a fucking incubator with legs. While I support those I know who have chosen to have children, I don't even pretend to think that everyone should be a parent. And while I could go on about this literally all night (just ask my lovely and patient fiance), I'm not going to. I do everything I can to respect the choices of others, and, as hard as it, to respect the choices of those I violently disagree with. I don't get for one second why it's so hard for the other side to do this, but then again, there's a reason we call them "anti-choice." Because that's what they are doing everything to prevent: the ability to choose. The ability to have the education and information to decide what is right for the person already living. They are hell-bent on creating a world not unlike Atwood's Handmaid's Tale, which they are making clear, and why I am considering, sprained ankle and all, to go to the Rally for Women's Health this Saturday. If you're a woman, or you care about any woman, you should think about going, too.

3. I'm turning 31 in a couple of weeks. I'm also having my first joint birthday party, with J, who will be hitting the big 4-0. I'm happy to celebrate, but a good friend made a prediction a few years back (I remember it being [livejournal.com profile] quodlibetic for some reason) said that you pretty much freak out until you turn 30, but after that, it's kind of "shrug". So far, she's right, but we'll see how I am when 35 rolls around.

4. Oscars are also this weekend. I continue to dislike and resent this whole 10 nominated best pictures business. Either split into two sets of categories the way the Golden Globes do, or roll it back to 5. All of the other categories get by with 5 or fewer nominations, I don't get why they suddenly need 10 Best Pictures.

5. And in wedding plan news, I received the extremely disappointing news over the weekend that in the state of NY, you can't have a friend who ordains themselves over the interwebs marry you. (Another win for the Wedding Industrial Complex). So, the hunt is on for a justice of the peace, I guess. I'm so annoyed - I was hoping for us to be married by someone who knows us, who cares about us, and will respect our wishes, not some stranger (and definitely not some stranger pushing an agenda). I'm hoping at the very least we can find someone completely and totally secular. I guess I'll start looking when we nail down the venue, at which time I hope to stop being annoyed about this.
offbalance: (mm serious as german film)
Hey, LJ. How's life?

Yeah, yeah, been awhile.

Work has been kicking my ass hardcore. I know that's what I usually say, but it's especially true lately. I feel kind of drained when I get home and not particularly like sharing. Which is too bad, because I have things to say for a change.

No idea what order I should put them in, but here's what's "up" with me at the moment:

1. I am now the proud owner of a sprained ankle. Apparently, I've been for some time. Said ankle had been bothering me a LOT ever since the Christmas snowpocalypse, when in my climbing over hill and dale I must have rolled or twisted it just a little too much. Then, I proceeded to walk on it for several months, not wanting to admit something was wrong. That finally came to a head during my vacation, and J all but frogmarched me to the doctor himself. So, after a visit to the doctor, I was handed a prescription for more PT. Yay. I like my therapist a lot better this time, he's a lot more knowledgeable than my last go-round, and I feel like we're making some progress. The truly frustrating part is how much time I have to spend off of my ankle, icing it and resting it, so it will heal. Anyone who knows how deeply I abhor sitting still for ages and not being able to walk a lot could tell you how very much I hate this.

1a. This has been complicated by feeling kind of nauseated and under the weather the last couple of days. Last week I wondered if I wasn't coming down with a cold. This time, I've been feeling fluish, but nothing blows up into actual symptoms. It's as fun as it sounds. I'd be doing more of the exercises I can actually do, but my stomach has been acting up so much I feel worn out and not really like doing much of anything. Blah.

2. When not feeling physically meh, I've been a little bundle of rage focused at all of these asshole politicians that want to do things like defund Planned Parenthood, legalize the murder of abortion doctors, and basically strip my rights away until I'm a fucking incubator with legs. While I support those I know who have chosen to have children, I don't even pretend to think that everyone should be a parent. And while I could go on about this literally all night (just ask my lovely and patient fiance), I'm not going to. I do everything I can to respect the choices of others, and, as hard as it, to respect the choices of those I violently disagree with. I don't get for one second why it's so hard for the other side to do this, but then again, there's a reason we call them "anti-choice." Because that's what they are doing everything to prevent: the ability to choose. The ability to have the education and information to decide what is right for the person already living. They are hell-bent on creating a world not unlike Atwood's Handmaid's Tale, which they are making clear, and why I am considering, sprained ankle and all, to go to the Rally for Women's Health this Saturday. If you're a woman, or you care about any woman, you should think about going, too.

3. I'm turning 31 in a couple of weeks. I'm also having my first joint birthday party, with J, who will be hitting the big 4-0. I'm happy to celebrate, but a good friend made a prediction a few years back (I remember it being [livejournal.com profile] quodlibetic for some reason) said that you pretty much freak out until you turn 30, but after that, it's kind of "shrug". So far, she's right, but we'll see how I am when 35 rolls around.

4. Oscars are also this weekend. I continue to dislike and resent this whole 10 nominated best pictures business. Either split into two sets of categories the way the Golden Globes do, or roll it back to 5. All of the other categories get by with 5 or fewer nominations, I don't get why they suddenly need 10 Best Pictures.

5. And in wedding plan news, I received the extremely disappointing news over the weekend that in the state of NY, you can't have a friend who ordains themselves over the interwebs marry you. (Another win for the Wedding Industrial Complex). So, the hunt is on for a justice of the peace, I guess. I'm so annoyed - I was hoping for us to be married by someone who knows us, who cares about us, and will respect our wishes, not some stranger (and definitely not some stranger pushing an agenda). I'm hoping at the very least we can find someone completely and totally secular. I guess I'll start looking when we nail down the venue, at which time I hope to stop being annoyed about this.
offbalance: (buffy)
Dude. Dude. I did not have high expectations for today. I got almost no sleep last night, due to the Cough That Won't Die. Then, when I dragged my underslept carcass out of bed this morning, I discovered I was out of my prescription nosepray. So, after spending $30 on my asthma inhaler yesterday (more on that in a minute), I would have to drop another $30 in order to inhale. Awesome.

My family has always been a big proponent of independent pharmacies. It helped that we had an excellent one a few blocks away all through my growing up (all hail the mighty Dermer!), but they do tend to shop local whenever possible, and before it was cool. So, this instilled in me, I've always found good indie pharmacies to get almost all of my many prescriptions filled at. Everyone is nicer, and as the song goes, sometimes you want to go where everyone knows your name. I loved Ansonia Chemist in Park Slope for just that reason. I have a decent one near home, but I have a backup in Rockefeller Center, Value Drugs, for those prescriptions that Just Can't Wait. And they do understand urgency - yesterday the marvelous pharmacist managed to get a new inhaler into my hands in about 5 minutes, and trust me, every minute counted. Figures, on the day when I need it most, my inhaler goes kaput, and I have to scramble. Luckily, I had a prescription on hand. I knew I had several refills on the nosespray, so I called it in and prepared to pick it up on my way to work.

When I arrived, much to my surprise, the pharmacist told me he had good news for me. Apparently, there's an online coupon available for my nosepray, which he used, reducing the amount due to a meager $5. I even did a happy dance, which seemed to make his day. Value Drugs has earned me as a customer for life. Pardon the pun, but $25 is nothing to sneeze at. Also, the fact that the dude went online and found me a coupon is the kind of thing that just does not happen at the big chains. So, in short, support your independents! They will look out for you!

And then, to make things even better, I found out that work is going to pay for me to become a Notary Public! I'm excited, I've been asking for this for years, and FINALLY it's actually happening.

All of this AND I get to see the incomprable Jens Lekman in concert TONIGHT! And, I get to do it with [livejournal.com profile] whtegrlwthehair and Stacy! And the internet-hating boss is out today! Not a bad way to end a rather trying week, imho.
offbalance: (buffy)
Dude. Dude. I did not have high expectations for today. I got almost no sleep last night, due to the Cough That Won't Die. Then, when I dragged my underslept carcass out of bed this morning, I discovered I was out of my prescription nosepray. So, after spending $30 on my asthma inhaler yesterday (more on that in a minute), I would have to drop another $30 in order to inhale. Awesome.

My family has always been a big proponent of independent pharmacies. It helped that we had an excellent one a few blocks away all through my growing up (all hail the mighty Dermer!), but they do tend to shop local whenever possible, and before it was cool. So, this instilled in me, I've always found good indie pharmacies to get almost all of my many prescriptions filled at. Everyone is nicer, and as the song goes, sometimes you want to go where everyone knows your name. I loved Ansonia Chemist in Park Slope for just that reason. I have a decent one near home, but I have a backup in Rockefeller Center, Value Drugs, for those prescriptions that Just Can't Wait. And they do understand urgency - yesterday the marvelous pharmacist managed to get a new inhaler into my hands in about 5 minutes, and trust me, every minute counted. Figures, on the day when I need it most, my inhaler goes kaput, and I have to scramble. Luckily, I had a prescription on hand. I knew I had several refills on the nosespray, so I called it in and prepared to pick it up on my way to work.

When I arrived, much to my surprise, the pharmacist told me he had good news for me. Apparently, there's an online coupon available for my nosepray, which he used, reducing the amount due to a meager $5. I even did a happy dance, which seemed to make his day. Value Drugs has earned me as a customer for life. Pardon the pun, but $25 is nothing to sneeze at. Also, the fact that the dude went online and found me a coupon is the kind of thing that just does not happen at the big chains. So, in short, support your independents! They will look out for you!

And then, to make things even better, I found out that work is going to pay for me to become a Notary Public! I'm excited, I've been asking for this for years, and FINALLY it's actually happening.

All of this AND I get to see the incomprable Jens Lekman in concert TONIGHT! And, I get to do it with [livejournal.com profile] whtegrlwthehair and Stacy! And the internet-hating boss is out today! Not a bad way to end a rather trying week, imho.
offbalance: (alton brown multi-purpose)
Most people who know me know me as something of a foodie. I have the kind of palate that enjoys all kinds of interesting foods, ranging from spicy to more subtle flavors. I've never met a cuisine I've completely balked at.

And that's what's made this past week so frustrating. While I'm over the bulk of my cold, I'm still the proud owner of a hideous hacking cough and all its trimmings. Needless to say, my appetite has been nil. I can barely even feign interest in food. I'm kind of glad I had the forethought to invest in a few sleeves of ramen, it's kind of just about my speed right now. And for me, that's definitely saying something. I nearly swore it off entirely after freshman year of college, but I kind of came back to it during the Stomachpocalypse of 2007, when being able to eat anything seemed like a miracle. But yeah, that's about how I'm surviving, combined with the awesomeness that is the Weaver chicken patty. (Do not deny the power of the patty, okay? The chicken patty is mighty). The ramen isn't so bad when you only use half a packet and mix in some frozen veg.

But yeah. That's my week. I somehow also bit my tongue during a coughing fit today, so that's making eating extra fun.

However, in positive health news, I learned some very important things on Tuesday:
1. I have a hyperplastic (hypoplastic?) goiter next to my thyroid.
2. Said goiter is mostly harmless, but needs to be monitored.
3. It's big, but not dangerously so.
4. It's NOTTA TUMA.
5. It's possible to have a biopsy and have it be relatively painless. (Unlike last time. Jesus Christ. My new doc even said, "Who the hell sent you to THAT hospital?! They're terrible!!)
6. My new doc is awesome.
7. New doc says I shouldn't even want surgery on this thing, because it's not worth the risk. SO yay for that. The past month or so I've been really anxious that even though we were all sure lumpy was benign, I'd need to have it out anyway, and nothing says fun like throat surgery! Thankfully, there'll be none for me, thanks.

Once I get rid of this stupid cold, I'll be fine. And able to enjoy some awesome Jens Lekman in concert tomorrow.

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Page generated Sep. 25th, 2017 04:37 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios
December 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 2016