It has been over a year since I last posted. I dont know if anybody even has me on their lists anymore.
I felt compelled to exile myself for fear of typing something in haste that would not be in my best interest.
A year ago just before the Labor Day weekend, my boss at the new job (who will be referred to as FFS-Fat fucking Asshole) met with me on our stardard weekly meeting time, but he had the HR person there). I was give a "Sophie's Choice": I could resign my position and it would be considered an 'amicable parting', or I would be put on a 30 day probationary period, during which anytime in those 30 days he was unhappy, it would be immediate termination, no severence, nothing. The objectives I was to achieve were very ambiguous, non-measurable such as "be able to demonstrate the digital products 'to my (his) satisfaction'. After giving me the LD weekend to think about, I took option 1, but first I gave him documentation of the items on my write up, one which lead to him-his error. The HR had the audacity to say, if we re-write this and take out these items, will you reconsider and stay? Are you fucking kidding me?!
2010 has not been great. I was forced into filing bankruptcy, saving my co op. Leaving the courthouse, I felt as though my soul has been extracted.
In June, I started a 1 year program to become a Clinical Massage Therapist, with the assistance of student loans and a grant for 'displaced workers'. I have been enjoying the learning, even anatomy, which was tough but thus far have gotten A's & B's. Just started Kinesiology which is kicking my butt.
My previous boss before (FFA)had retired. His replacement called me and want me to work PT to write their upcoming reaccreditation. I committed to 11 months, the duration of my schooling. After one month he decided he didn't like me, fired me and then contested my unemployment claim. The bank is refusing to work with me on the mortgage, and started forclosure, after assuring me that they would not do that while applying for the assistance progam. They are trying to force a 'short sale'. I don't want to do that, and it's not appropriate. I'm am NOT under water. have equity in the property, which I think they are trying force a short sale because they know that they would come out way ahead.
I feel like I've been in a year long nightmare that I can't wake up from. But it's a nightmare, just a real one that there's no waking up from. My faith in humanity has been eviserated.
Showing posts with label WTF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label WTF. Show all posts
Friday, October 15, 2010
Saturday, April 25, 2009
CVID STORIES, NEW CHAPTER
The new gig is consuming a great deal of time. It’s really cut into my blog time, reading as well as writing. Here’s a new tale from the CVID chronicles.
Three months ago, I went in for the monthly IgG infusion. Instead of the usual 2 bottles, (a 20 gram, and a 10 gram), the tech comes in with six 5 gram bottles, from a different supplier. It was a name I did not recognize. I was not pleased that it was six 5gram bottles. It did not bode well for a quick infusion. And it was not quick. They dripped incredibly slow. I quiz the tech, nurse, and my doc about the change in IgG. I was not pleased. The issue was economic. They’ve gone to a cheaper supplier. I’ve heard stories about people having all kinds of problems when their IgG brand is switched on them. Gammagard has been good to me. I rarely had infusion reactions of great consequence—just feeling wiped out, a little achey, flu-ish the night of through the next morning. Overall, not bad. The new IgG, comes from some company in Austria. The next month, back to a 10 and 20 gram bottles. The drip is back to a regular speed. Last week, the third month of the new IgG goes similarly. The tech gets the IV needle in on one stab. After infusion, I’m at the Walgreen’s connected with the medical practice. Suddenly, I start feeling flushed, and itchy. One of the things I had to get at Walgreens was a vial for tetnus, which I had to take back to get the shot. I take it back. Before getting the tech, I go to the bathroom and check under my shirt and pants, I’m red blotchy all over, and itching like hell. The med tech takes me back, I tell him, I’m having a bad infusion reaction, he needs to get the doc again. It’s not that he doesn’t believe me, but wants more info to tell the doc. I dropped trou, and said, “Look at this!” I was not referring to my genitalia. He’s the one straight med tech in the place. I’m rapidly getting hives. They shoot me up full of Benadryl (2x) and some steroid. I guess I’ll not pass the next test for Olympic tryouts. This was my first Benadryl experience. When I finally get off the exam table, where I’d been laying for about 45 minutes, I’m wobbly and woosey. It was like I’d drunk a six pack and smoke a few bowls. Though, there was no sense of euphoria in this scenario. All indications are that I had a severe allergic reaction to this new IgG. My doc explains that reactions usually don’t happen until the second or third time—like the whole bee sting thing. Having never had reactions to bee stings, this was new to me. I’ve had hives once in my life before, when I was in Kindergarden, at Christmas due to an allergic reaction to the something in the stuffing of a big stuffed animal I’d gotten. This was as bad as that long ago childhood memory. I was also given a script for prednisolone steroid pack. If I got hives and then get weight gain and odd fat deposits, I’m going to be really pissed. Additionally, they weaken the immune system. Kind of counteracts the whole getting the IgG infusions.
This week I got hit with a sinus infection. I wake up Thursday, feeling miserable. I go in to work, glands in the neck are thick and swollen. Nasal passages don’t feel good. I call to get in. He has no openings. I call the nurse, she will squeeze me in his one spare appointment, at 2:00. He confirms the sinus diagnosis. I ask for, and get a B12 shot, a shot of rocefin (antibiotic), and the tetnus they had to put back in the fridge at after the SAE from last week, as well as a ‘script for a Zpack.
I worked from home today, which allowed me to sleep until 7:30, roll out of bed, shower quickly, and get to work. I had a productive day.—more so than had I gone in to the office. Now, it’s well past going to bed time, so I’ll close this tome for now. wtf/rle©
Three months ago, I went in for the monthly IgG infusion. Instead of the usual 2 bottles, (a 20 gram, and a 10 gram), the tech comes in with six 5 gram bottles, from a different supplier. It was a name I did not recognize. I was not pleased that it was six 5gram bottles. It did not bode well for a quick infusion. And it was not quick. They dripped incredibly slow. I quiz the tech, nurse, and my doc about the change in IgG. I was not pleased. The issue was economic. They’ve gone to a cheaper supplier. I’ve heard stories about people having all kinds of problems when their IgG brand is switched on them. Gammagard has been good to me. I rarely had infusion reactions of great consequence—just feeling wiped out, a little achey, flu-ish the night of through the next morning. Overall, not bad. The new IgG, comes from some company in Austria. The next month, back to a 10 and 20 gram bottles. The drip is back to a regular speed. Last week, the third month of the new IgG goes similarly. The tech gets the IV needle in on one stab. After infusion, I’m at the Walgreen’s connected with the medical practice. Suddenly, I start feeling flushed, and itchy. One of the things I had to get at Walgreens was a vial for tetnus, which I had to take back to get the shot. I take it back. Before getting the tech, I go to the bathroom and check under my shirt and pants, I’m red blotchy all over, and itching like hell. The med tech takes me back, I tell him, I’m having a bad infusion reaction, he needs to get the doc again. It’s not that he doesn’t believe me, but wants more info to tell the doc. I dropped trou, and said, “Look at this!” I was not referring to my genitalia. He’s the one straight med tech in the place. I’m rapidly getting hives. They shoot me up full of Benadryl (2x) and some steroid. I guess I’ll not pass the next test for Olympic tryouts. This was my first Benadryl experience. When I finally get off the exam table, where I’d been laying for about 45 minutes, I’m wobbly and woosey. It was like I’d drunk a six pack and smoke a few bowls. Though, there was no sense of euphoria in this scenario. All indications are that I had a severe allergic reaction to this new IgG. My doc explains that reactions usually don’t happen until the second or third time—like the whole bee sting thing. Having never had reactions to bee stings, this was new to me. I’ve had hives once in my life before, when I was in Kindergarden, at Christmas due to an allergic reaction to the something in the stuffing of a big stuffed animal I’d gotten. This was as bad as that long ago childhood memory. I was also given a script for prednisolone steroid pack. If I got hives and then get weight gain and odd fat deposits, I’m going to be really pissed. Additionally, they weaken the immune system. Kind of counteracts the whole getting the IgG infusions.
This week I got hit with a sinus infection. I wake up Thursday, feeling miserable. I go in to work, glands in the neck are thick and swollen. Nasal passages don’t feel good. I call to get in. He has no openings. I call the nurse, she will squeeze me in his one spare appointment, at 2:00. He confirms the sinus diagnosis. I ask for, and get a B12 shot, a shot of rocefin (antibiotic), and the tetnus they had to put back in the fridge at after the SAE from last week, as well as a ‘script for a Zpack.
I worked from home today, which allowed me to sleep until 7:30, roll out of bed, shower quickly, and get to work. I had a productive day.—more so than had I gone in to the office. Now, it’s well past going to bed time, so I’ll close this tome for now. wtf/rle©
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Taking the Plunge
Given that my last post may lead one to belief that I am one of a delicate or frail nature, I thought I should write a post to validate my ‘butch’ factor to show that I’m not just some wussy fag.
The picture here is framed and sits on my desk in my office as a reminder to me (and anyone who may question my testicle fortitude) that I’m not a wuss. This is from over 10 years ago, when I had much more hair on my head (in volume and length) , and none of the hair on my head (or body) had begun to migrate to white. That’s me in the hole in the ice. I did the Polar Bear Plunge. This was in a the Boundary Waters (between Minnesota and Canada). I was with a group of close friends that I met/knew when I was grad school. They all remain among my closest and best friends in my life. I had been in said Boundary Waters with some combination of all of these people on a number of times, on (with the exception of Amy’s then husband) on various canoeing/camping trips with the campus church group I was a part of (before I became a godless heathen). In fact, in was in some of these trips that most of us in the group solidified or deepened our friendships. Amy was actually the last woman that I dated (or attempted to date) before finally coming out of the closet. But those are a volume of stories in and of themselves. The fact that she remained (remains) a great friend says a lot about the kind of person she is.
This trip was our (my) only winter trip as a group. We stayed in a cabin, not tents this time, as the actual temp of minus 15° F was beyond our parameters of ‘roughing it’.
The day we arrived, we found the owner of the lodge out on the lake, with this plywood framed ‘box lid’ to one side, and he was re-cutting/punching the hole in the ice, in case anyone wanted to do the “PBP”. I was intrigued. It took a few days to work up my courage. I had questions. He supplied answers:
The picture here is framed and sits on my desk in my office as a reminder to me (and anyone who may question my testicle fortitude) that I’m not a wuss. This is from over 10 years ago, when I had much more hair on my head (in volume and length) , and none of the hair on my head (or body) had begun to migrate to white. That’s me in the hole in the ice. I did the Polar Bear Plunge. This was in a the Boundary Waters (between Minnesota and Canada). I was with a group of close friends that I met/knew when I was grad school. They all remain among my closest and best friends in my life. I had been in said Boundary Waters with some combination of all of these people on a number of times, on (with the exception of Amy’s then husband) on various canoeing/camping trips with the campus church group I was a part of (before I became a godless heathen). In fact, in was in some of these trips that most of us in the group solidified or deepened our friendships. Amy was actually the last woman that I dated (or attempted to date) before finally coming out of the closet. But those are a volume of stories in and of themselves. The fact that she remained (remains) a great friend says a lot about the kind of person she is.
This trip was our (my) only winter trip as a group. We stayed in a cabin, not tents this time, as the actual temp of minus 15° F was beyond our parameters of ‘roughing it’.
The day we arrived, we found the owner of the lodge out on the lake, with this plywood framed ‘box lid’ to one side, and he was re-cutting/punching the hole in the ice, in case anyone wanted to do the “PBP”. I was intrigued. It took a few days to work up my courage. I had questions. He supplied answers:
“What’s the procedure?”
“You stay in the sauna for a while to get your body
temperature good and hot. You run from the sauna, down the path (50
yards?) to the hole. You jump in.”
“How do you get yourself out? Isn’t it difficult?"
“You have someone holding on to each hand/arm when you go
in, to make sure you don’t go down below the water level. They help pull
you out.”
(this is the day I learned the difference between ‘buck naked’ and
stark naked’.)
“I highly recommend you do this buck naked, which means you
wear socks—only socks. This is to keep your feet from getting cut on rocks or sharp ice pieces in the water and from freezing and sticking to the ice when you come out."
Getting out of the hole was my biggest concern. Once that issue was resolved, I was ready. I was going to do it that night when we did our nightly sauna ritual after dinner. I also decided that if I was going to do this, I wanted photographic evidence, as nobody would ever believe I did it by verbal recitation alone. Lynette would take the pic. She was the photographer of the group. Jeff and Amy would each have ‘arm duty’, and Joel would be the stand by in case a third pair of hands was needed to get me out of the hole, and to serve as towel boy when I came out of the water. We all were in the sauna. After our usual amount of time, all of the others with the exception of Joel went to the cabin to get dressed and prepared for my plunge. Joel stayed with me to keep me from losing my nerve. People were in place. The ‘lid’ had been removed by Jeff. Lynette was in position half way down the trail to get a shot of me running down the trail. I start my ‘buck naked’ sprint from the sauna. Lynette clicks the shutter. “OH SHIT,Randy. That was the last picture on this roll of film! “
I couldn’t stop at that point. I had to keep going. And, I did. Let me state for the record, I have never done any hard core hallucinogenic, mild altering drugs. This experience was transcendental. Because my body temp was hot from the sauna, when I jumped into the (literally) icey water, my body did not get cold in this ice water. It was a shock to my body/system. My heart raced. When I came out, steam emanates from every pore of my body. It was bizarre! Additionally, because it was minus 15° F, my socks turned immediately to ice upon exit. I’ll just say this one thing on this issue—there was shrinkage like I didn’t know was possible. I think my nuts ascended up to my clavicle(s). Because it was such a wild (and not unpleasant) experience, I told Lynette, “Go load the camera. I’m doing it again for the photo! I have to have the photographic evidence.”
I did. The picture above is the result, and the proof.
People can (and do often) say a lot of things about me. But they can’t say I back or turn away from challenges. If there’s something I really want to do, I can most of the time find a way to do it. I’ve often been told in my life, “You can’t do that.” If someone tells me that I ‘can’t’ do something or don’t have what it takes, that pretty much is all the incentive I need to do it, if for no other reason than to prove the naysayer wrong, out of my own sense of obstinance . So I can be able to come back and say “fuck you-I did it”. I did the Polar Bear Plunge. Given the chance, I’ll do it again in a heartbeat.
©rle/wtf
I couldn’t stop at that point. I had to keep going. And, I did. Let me state for the record, I have never done any hard core hallucinogenic, mild altering drugs. This experience was transcendental. Because my body temp was hot from the sauna, when I jumped into the (literally) icey water, my body did not get cold in this ice water. It was a shock to my body/system. My heart raced. When I came out, steam emanates from every pore of my body. It was bizarre! Additionally, because it was minus 15° F, my socks turned immediately to ice upon exit. I’ll just say this one thing on this issue—there was shrinkage like I didn’t know was possible. I think my nuts ascended up to my clavicle(s). Because it was such a wild (and not unpleasant) experience, I told Lynette, “Go load the camera. I’m doing it again for the photo! I have to have the photographic evidence.”
I did. The picture above is the result, and the proof.
People can (and do often) say a lot of things about me. But they can’t say I back or turn away from challenges. If there’s something I really want to do, I can most of the time find a way to do it. I’ve often been told in my life, “You can’t do that.” If someone tells me that I ‘can’t’ do something or don’t have what it takes, that pretty much is all the incentive I need to do it, if for no other reason than to prove the naysayer wrong, out of my own sense of obstinance . So I can be able to come back and say “fuck you-I did it”. I did the Polar Bear Plunge. Given the chance, I’ll do it again in a heartbeat.
©rle/wtf
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Seriously Universe, WTF?!
As noted in the previous post, I was back at my Dr.’s office and got a shot and put on oral antibiotics for the 4th sinus infection of the year. A week into this course of meds, my right neck lymph gland is swollen, and right ear begins to hurt. Tuesday night, I went to bed at 7:30, because I was exhausted and felt like shit. I NEVER go to bed that early (to sleep). I go back yesterday (Wednesday) to my Dr. I’ve now got a fucking otitis (outer ear infection). Onset occurs AFTER a week of being on antibiotics. WTF? So, it’s another shot (on the right ass cheek this time), and extension of the oral antibiotics. Unbelievable. So, I ask if these two infections are related—did the sinus infection migrate to the ear. No. Should I make an appointment with an Otolaryngologist (ENT-Ear Nose Throat) doc? Yes, we should consider it, but not until I’m off the antibiotics. HE wants to monitor this, and see if it (sinus infection) will stay away—or see how long before it strikes again. I ask Dr. K, “ WTF? —I thought these monthly infusions of IgG were supposed to keep from getting these infections so frequently. It doesn’t seem to be working. It seems like I’m getting sick as frequently if not more so since I started them over two years ago.” He says we might try going to every 3 weeks, instead of 4-5 weeks. He’s done that with another patient, and it seems to have helped him. I ask how they determined the IgG dosage? Is it a guess? Should he take blood and see where my antibody level is to monitor it? It seems now would be a good time, as it’s midway point between infusions. “Good question”, he replies. He’s not sure, but will go do a search to find out. He returns 15-20 minutes later. He can’t find any research or data doing a quick internet search, but he’s going to investigate more. He quizzes me about being depressed. “I’m not depressed, I’m pissed off.”
“About what?”
“About being sick all the goddamn time.”
I know the signs of depression. I know the signs in me. When I’m clinically depressed, I have low to no libido. Without going into details, this is currently not an issue. It’s definitely not an issue at this time. I’m just over feeling like shit so often.
“About what?”
“About being sick all the goddamn time.”
I know the signs of depression. I know the signs in me. When I’m clinically depressed, I have low to no libido. Without going into details, this is currently not an issue. It’s definitely not an issue at this time. I’m just over feeling like shit so often.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
WTF
When I was initially diagnosed with CVID a few years ago, I thought of starting a blog to let family and friends keep updated with the medical goings on. I vacillated back and forth (ok, that’s redundant), feeling it was too self indulgent. Part of my reticence in posting regularly once I started my blog was that I didn’t want it to be/read like a whiny ‘poor me’ epistle. I actually created my blog because I had to have a blog address to post on somebody else’s site. I occasionally post on other sites.
So, WTF. I’m going to give this a shot. It’s not like anyone’s being forced to read this. I’m not ever sure at this point that I’m going to inform the masses about it. I’m doing this for me. Some of it ain’t gonna be pretty. Again I say WTF. BTW, I was “WTF” before “WTF” was cool, and an accepted part of the pop culture lexicon. Back in 1989, when I was closing my business, I was having lunch with a good friend, and made the comment, “If I ever have another business, I’m going to call it ‘WTF Enterprises’.” We’ll he had a bumper sticker created for me that was “WTF Enterprizes”. The “Z” was a spelling error (he’s dyslexic, like me), but I thought it very fitting. When I got hit by a car running a red light, totaling the car, I tried to save the bumper sticker for posterity. The mastic used was of high grade, and the polymer of the bumper sticker itself very elastic, so it was not salvageable. Ironically, we did end up salvaging the car, because I was a poor grad student with a loan payment greater than the value of the car. The car was rolled into my business loan/debt that I was paying off. But that’s another story for a later time.
So, I’m going to try and commit to this. My current vision is that it’s going to be a lot of historical posts interspersed with current day/current topic posts. The historical, because history informs who we are and how we are in the present. It helps to explain who I am and why I am here and now.
If you’re still reading, I hope you enjoy the ride with along with me and come back for future installments. ©rle/wtf
So, WTF. I’m going to give this a shot. It’s not like anyone’s being forced to read this. I’m not ever sure at this point that I’m going to inform the masses about it. I’m doing this for me. Some of it ain’t gonna be pretty. Again I say WTF. BTW, I was “WTF” before “WTF” was cool, and an accepted part of the pop culture lexicon. Back in 1989, when I was closing my business, I was having lunch with a good friend, and made the comment, “If I ever have another business, I’m going to call it ‘WTF Enterprises’.” We’ll he had a bumper sticker created for me that was “WTF Enterprizes”. The “Z” was a spelling error (he’s dyslexic, like me), but I thought it very fitting. When I got hit by a car running a red light, totaling the car, I tried to save the bumper sticker for posterity. The mastic used was of high grade, and the polymer of the bumper sticker itself very elastic, so it was not salvageable. Ironically, we did end up salvaging the car, because I was a poor grad student with a loan payment greater than the value of the car. The car was rolled into my business loan/debt that I was paying off. But that’s another story for a later time.
So, I’m going to try and commit to this. My current vision is that it’s going to be a lot of historical posts interspersed with current day/current topic posts. The historical, because history informs who we are and how we are in the present. It helps to explain who I am and why I am here and now.
If you’re still reading, I hope you enjoy the ride with along with me and come back for future installments. ©rle/wtf
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
