moiread: (BATTLESTAR GALACTICA • six/affection.)
A lot of stuff in my life is going really, really well right now. I have a new relationship that is a whole bunch of different flavours of awesome, and I have all kinds of fun travel coming up between now and October. Also, minus the brief medication-related hiccup in Montreal three weeks ago, overall I am feeling physically better than I have in ages. This is probably just a combination of endorphins, normal hemoglobin levels, and being off nutty hormone treatments for the first time in a decade, but I'll take it!

Going to try to get my tubes tied this summer, during the one month where I don't have plans to be anywhere. Have dealt with the pre-ablation emotional stuff and want to take back control of my bits again! May not have a job at the school next year, so have come up with some ideas for freelance work I can do over the summer and continue through the rest of the year if things go that way. Also may or may not go back to school for my own education, either locally or online. That one will take a bit more reflection, since I need to be pretty sure my health is going to stay stable for at least a full semester before I start throwing large chunks of money around.

Plans! Things! Goodnesses! Hurray for me!

I may not be posting much these days, but I still read everything. Promise.

PS: Travel-wise, right now it looks like I'll be in Chicago from May 16-21, Montreal from May 23-27, Minneapolis from June 20-26th, back in Chicago for probably two weeks sometime in August, and then back in Montreal for at LEAST the three days of [livejournal.com profile] farthingparty in September but maybe longer. I'm going to try not to wind up in any more hospitals for the duration of this giant traveling period. Fingers crossed!

Ablation

Feb. 26th, 2013 02:30 pm
moiread: (moirae • art.)
Surgery was apparently very successful. In a lot of pain now but nothing I can't handle, and anyway they gave me morphine to take home with me. On a good trajectory for recovery. Going to go be dead to the world for the rest of the day now. Thank you to everyone who sent me well wishes, good thoughts, and virtual hugs.
moiread: (hugz • sarah s.)
• I got food poisoning last week. It was brutal. I threw up so much I got hemorrhage around my eyes and cheeks and pulled several muscles. I'm still not all better but I'm getting there!

• I'm finding ways to get additional sessions, kids, and funding for the program I work in, which is good for the kids and good for my wallet. Making $360 a month from that job instead of $100 is good, especially since ODSP takes half. I will probably also pick up private tutoring work, because (so far, at least) I can't find anything else locally that meets my needs/restrictions. Also ODSP has started reimbursing me for the cost of some more of my medical supplies plus the cost of taxis to appointments, which is another $300 a month, roughly, so I should be okay. (The summers are always the hardest because I have no extra income.)

• I started a new treatment for my feet. It involves SCIENCE! Basically they blast my plantar fascia with short bursts of a sonic shockwave, and these repeated microtraumas both break up scar tissue and force my blood to heal the area. I tend to look at non-standard physio treatments that have had inconclusive clinical results with a very jaundiced eye, but at this point I'd tried everything else anybody could suggest (apart from cortisone injections, which have a 50-50 chance of either improving the problem or making it worse, so no thank you to that) so I figured, what the hell. My parents were willing to pay for it, since nobody would cover it, and actually it seems to be helping. I started the treatment on my worst foot only so that I could observe the results objectively by comparing the two, and after three treatments, my worse foot is now usually on par with my less-worse foot and sometimes better. If this continues, I'll add do another run of it but on both feet. I'm not convinced that this treatment will make anything all better, or how long the effect will last, but I figure that even a small improvement is worth it. If I choose to escalate further after the shockwave treatment, the next steps are blood doping (cool!) and surgery (less cool!).

• I am now sleeping with a dorsiflexion boot, a CPAP machine, a bite guard, and sometimes wrist braces. I feel like I'm slowly turning into Darth Vader with boobs.

• We're going on a family camping trip this weekend. I leave Thursday. It was originally supposed to be for my birthday, but it got co-opted by my mom, re-worked to suit her fancy, and then postponed because of her work schedule, so at this point I'm expecting it to be less of a birthday gift to me and more of a complete shitshow starring my crazy parents who hate each other. But I have books, good hiking boots, a solid sense of direction, and feet that are doing a bit better, so I am totally not above fucking off by myself during the day. We'll see how it goes.

• Unlike the complete birthday fail above, [livejournal.com profile] timprov sent me a framed print of "Tulips and Snow Peas" because it is my favourite and he is wonderful. He picked this rich royal purple for the mat and it looks so, so gorgeous, seriously. I am going to take a picture and post it once I have a chance to get it up above my dining table where it unquestionably belongs. :D :D
moiread: (DR WHO • rocks!)
Today my massage therapist, who is thin and gorgeous and a fitness nut, said she was jealous of how flexible I am. I beamed. Why yes, I am super-bendy. Thank you so much for noticing and giving me credit! That is a nice change from everybody assuming I am a lazy slug who can't do anything. And thank you for saying that something -- anything -- about my body is so awesome as to be enviable, because that is not really a thing I ever hear. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
moiread: (WORK • i hate mondays.)
Soooo. Health crap. Some people were worried from afar and wanted to know WTF was going on.

Stuff. )
moiread: (FRINGE • in the dreamtime.)
Cutesy tone notwithstanding, 50 Ways to Help a Chronically Ill Friend is a really fantastic list. Some of it's stuff you'll have heard from me already, but it always bears repeating.

Stuff.

Jun. 2nd, 2012 12:07 pm
moiread: (CRIMINAL MINDS • newspaper.)
• Yesterday my LJ had 43 views. Today it's had 473 and it's still only noon. I blame [livejournal.com profile] elisem! Only three abusive comments on that post so far, though, all of which I deleted immediately. I knew some trolls might come out when people started passing it around but such a low number is really nice! Probably my dinky journal is just not worth people's time. Heh.

• Last night I ordered in a mountain of sushi because I was ragingly hungry and my finger mysteriously wouldn't stop clicking things. I am still eating from that mountain of sushi today. This is so awesome.

• One of my co-op students from last year learned some ASL from me while she was there and went on to take an ASL class at the local college this past semester. She knows I haven't been well enough to take a class myself (which is why I have limited myself to only learning vocabulary and am avoiding dealing with grammar so as not to learn bad habits) so she brought me her textbook from the level 1 class as a gift! It comes with an instructional DVD and everything! I've been working through it and am super ridiculously excited. I think her hope is that, if I can handle the level 1 textbook just fine and my health improves a bit, I'll be able to take the level 2 class with her this fall. I don't think that will happen but it warms my heart that she would want to take a class with me.

Nikko Hurtado does awesome tattoos. Also I have found a tattoo artist for my sleeves once the artwork is ready and I've put the money together. (These two things are related only by being about tattoos; I could never afford Nikko and anyway his style is all wrong for what I want.)

JC Penney responds to the One Million Moms boycott by producing a Happy Two-Dad Family ad.

The Dark Chocolate Batman. I heart geek kids. That made me think of my eldest niecelet, whose war cry when wading into roughhousing with her siblings is, "FOR HYRULE!"

• My school put in wifi. On the one hand, this solves the problem of my smartphone not getting any data signal in 3/4 of the building, and I'm a geek who likes tech upgrades, so it's kind of cool. On the other, my school is full of kids whose families can't afford food or weather-appropriate clothing, let alone school supplies, so even if the wifi network only cost a few hundred to set up, I am really angry at the complete lack of priorities that allowed that few hundred dollars to go towards wifi instead of, say, bolstering the breakfast and lunch programs. Really, really angry. The fact that I am not ranting about it is simply due to the fact that it's been two weeks since it got announced and I've had time to come to terms with knowing I can't do anything about it.

• Also, after ten years, we are getting a new principal. They're moving ours to an inner-city school and giving us the principal of a well-off suburban school. I don't know where our new principal was before that, so for all I know working in a nice Kanata school was a total trip for him too, but still. I am wary. And I will miss our current principal, who was so very tremendously excellent, not only within himself but specifically in what he did for our school.

• Last year, my job was three days a week. This year, it got cut down to two. Next year, it will get cut down to one. This is despite maintaining our participation numbers. Why is it always the kids who need the most help who suffer the greatest when budget cuts come around? I may have to quit in order to look for something else, which would mean the kids don't even get their one day a week homework/classwork support sessions. It's a really difficult decision for me, but I have until sometime in September to decide. I don't know what else I would do that would be as flexible, as rewarding, or as indulgent of the fact that I have tons of experience but no degrees. I guess I'll look at job-hunting when the time comes if it's needed.

• A cartoonist I adore, Spike Trotman, has created a book called "Poorcraft". It is about living well on less money, and it is really fantastic. It just came out and already she has reports that it's being included in "starting over" kits at some women's shelters. A physical copy is $10 and PDF copies are half that.

• One of my recent treatment thingos is working out very poorly for me and giving me daily pain. This sucks, obviously, and is making my life more difficult than it already is and certainly more difficult than it needs to be.

• My old air conditioner was a monstrous standing unit that took up a lot of floorspace and caused $200 electricity bills, but it did do one cool thing (oh so punny!), which was that it drained water into a tank that I could empty into my garden. Unfortunately the new tiny energy-efficient window A/C I bought and installed this past week does not; it uses some newfangled evaporator ring instead. I have tasked my engineer brother, whose day job is building complex water parks, to build me a hose that can clamp onto my kitchen faucet and be unspooled out to water my garden, because refilling my monstrous watering can in the bathtub and then hauling it out to the yard five or six times at a go is really annoying. I demand better tools!

• Related: my garden is full of growing things and it makes me really happy. The ivy I planted last year is actually grown enough now that I can drape it up the fence! In a few years, it should be a great privacy screen between me and the parking lot. Other things I will plant this year to see how well they compete: sweet peas, clematis, and morning glories. In a perfect world, all four would take and my fences would be gorgeous.

• I have been slowly acquiring the better part of a new wardrobe. (The clothing part, not the furniture part.) It's kind of cool to own stuff other than baggy jeans and t-shirts, to have stuff that actually fits me properly because it was made to my measurements. I've never really thought that would be a thing I could have, and it's done a lot of good for my self-image. Yay!

• I probably can't afford to go to Chicago this summer. Not unless someone else going to CapeCon can give me free crashspace. But I am definitely going to Farthing Party in Montreal and my brother is considering dropping in for a day or two, which would be AWESOME. Fingers crossed.

Cry!

May. 18th, 2012 08:12 pm
moiread: (bedmonster • alicia w.)
After eight hours in a Montreal hospital, I'm beginning to think that I'm just not allowed to do fun things anymore. Maybe not even leave the apartment...
moiread: (BATTLESTAR GALACTICA • cards & cigars.)
There is a Rumi quote being passed around some Buddhist circles on Twitter and through a mutual connection wound up in my social circle. It goes: "Don't get lost in your pain, know that one day your pain will become your cure." And I got really, really angry when I saw it, for reasons that more than a few of you can probably guess already.

Deconstruction time! )
moiread: (GEEK • medicine.)
First off, this is awesome!

Related: Ottawa currently has an O-negative blood shortage. If you know you're O-negative, please consider donating. Please consider donating even if you don't know your blood type -- they will tell you if you go -- or you do know it and you're not O-. Who knows, you may even be helping me directly, depending on if anything goes wrong in the immediate future! (My receiving a blood transfusion at some point is apparently inevitable.) And if not, you're certainly going to be helping a lot of other people in similar or worse circumstances. You will probably be personally saving one or more lives if you donate.

(Full disclosure: I'm a bit of a hypocrite on this, because I don't donate. But only because I'm not ALLOWED. I've tried in the past and the anemia + bleeding disorder + a bunch of the meds I'm on means they won't take me, and that's fair. If my blood would fuck people up more than it helped, it's good that they won't take it, but it does mean I'm going to keep bringing it up to my friends because encouraging YOU guys to donate is now all that I can do.)

Find a Canadian Blood Services clinic near you. I'll even go with you if you want company!
moiread: (hugz • sarah s.)
My brother also had a really bad day, so he came over, took me to get my parcels, picked up dinner for both of us, and is gonna play Zelda with me until we get bored, fall asleep, or decide we're still awake enough to go see the midnight opening of The Avengers movie.

EDIT: After three hours of Zelda, his friends texted him to invite him out. I told him I didn't mind if he left to go get drunk with his buddies because a) it was true, b) I was feeling significantly less depressed by then, and c) I was starting to get a wicked headache. So he's off to do that now and may well return later if I'm not asleep by then. He is still an awesome brother. ♥
moiread: (HOUSE MD • cuddy gives up.)
I had the worst day today. )

Now I am home. Apparently I have happy-making parcels waiting for me at the post office, but I have no energy to go get them.

So yah. Today SUCKED. Fie on it.
moiread: (HOUSE MD • cranky cloud.)
Well, she posted a bunch, but the one I'm talking about said:

Yeah, but would you burn?

For those of you who have ever told me or any other hearing-impaired person, "Oh, there are times when I can't hear what's going on either!" I have one question:

Have you ever been left in your workplace during a fire drill because you could not hear the fire alarm?

I have.

So if you haven't, kindly shut the frack up next time you want to compare our situations. And then go think on how patronizing and clueless "Oh, everybody has trouble hearing sometimes!" is, when you say it to me and people like me. Thank you.


And you know, I understand that fear. Not because I'm hard of hearing but because of other stuff. I miss fire alarms all the time and have no idea until later. There's not much I can do about it and it scares me shitless that one of these days, the alarm won't be false and I won't come to until I'm trapped. (This is why I insisted on an apartment on the ground floor, too. At least that will increase my chances of getting out at the last minute. Me + meds that knock me out + a day where I can barely walk + stairs + walker + mental confusion = so, so, so bad.)

And my thing that matters for this isn't even all the time, not like hers. Yes, I have days where I'm on heavy-duty pain or migraine meds that leave me incapacitated, confused, or passed out and nearly impossible to rouse, and that's a scary thing for safety. But I also have days where I'm not in that position, whereas she doesn't get to have days where she's not hearing-impaired. I understand the difference there.

As a related aside, though, I've been told to get a service dog to help with this. Service dogs can hit emergency buttons for you, and can wake up or otherwise alert you to things you can't hear, etc, etc. They're super duper awesome helpful! And I know that's true because I know people with service dogs who do these things for them.

But nevertheless, when people say that to me, all I can do is laugh. Because it's a lovely idea... if you don't also have mobility issues (dogs can't carry you to safety!), or the money to afford a service dog, or your health issues would prevent you from properly caring for a dog (and thus you don't meet the requirements for getting one), or you don't have the support system required to help you care for a dog (also a requirement), or you don't have any agencies near you that will provide service dogs on a sliding scale or for "free" (note: not actually free, even for the cost to obtain, despite what it says on the tin), or the agencies near you only provide dogs to people with other health problems you don't have, and so on. Seriously, I've contacted every agency between here and Toronto to see if there were options that could work for me. No dice.

Not that I want an animal I can't care for. But the point is: Helpful solutions -- sometimes neither helpful nor a solution! And those of us who are used to falling between the cracks, of being too much for one solution but too little for another, who get left in the gap to figure everything out ourselves... We get a little bitter about it sometimes. And we're allowed.
moiread: (COMICS • wonder woman.)
And here is my thing to say:

I talk a lot about what's it's like to live with my particular disabilities, and I've posted PSAs a couple of times about Stuff Other People Could Do To Help That Are Actually Helpful To Me Instead of Just Comforting To The 'Helper' and Why, When You Ask Me How I'm Doing, I Usually Shorthand The Truth To "Fine" Even If It's A Complete Lie and like that. So today's lesson will not be about those things.

Today's lesson is about retraining the way you look at, and think about, and respond to disabled people. Or at least the types of disability that I have enough experience with to talk about.

So here goes:

We are not babies. We are not helpless. We are not stupid. Before you rush to help a disabled person with something that seems obvious to you, STOP. Think. Do you actually know this person well enough to know what they are capable or not capable of doing? Have you considered that, if you're wrong and they ARE capable, it is surely really fucking frustrating to have people always assume you can't and rush to your aid like you're in need of saving? Because, sure, helping your fellow man is nice, and opening doors for someone else or helping them pick up something they dropped are general kindnesses that make us Good People. But please, consider: You are probably not the first person to rush in to save the day. Probably not even the hundredth. And when everyone around you, day after day, week after week, year after year, assumes you can't do something, it stops being kind and starts being a message about how everyone sees you. It is a constant BARRAGE, and the amount of it really does matter.

Let me reframe this with an example:

If you were perfectly capable of spelling your own name and yet every single time you ever gave your name to someone, the person standing behind you or next to you interrupted you to add, "That's spelled N-A-M-E," and then smiled at you cheerfully in a silent "you're welcome!", or patted your arm sympathetically, that would suck. Not only are they all assuming incorrect things about you, but then they act like you being grateful for it is just a given. At first, sure, you would think it was an honest mistake or this was just one isolated busybody. You would assume the best and let it go. But it kept happening. After awhile, you would start to get annoyed. You would start to just find it rude, but you would politely put up with it anyway because you don't want to seem bitchy. After all, clearly they all mean well. And then at some point you would stop politely putting up with it and snap, "I CAN SPELL MY OWN NAME, THANK YOU." And then if it still didn't stop (after all, why would yelling at one person suddenly make everyone change?), if for years this continued, it would be beyond really frustrating. Maybe even depressing, that so many people thought you incapable of spelling your own name. Maybe it would start to affect your self-esteem. Maybe you would go back to not saying anything -- not because it didn't bother you but because it had ground you down and picking a fight over it for the thousandth time seemed like a pointless waste of energy.

And what if you actually did have some slight trouble spelling your name? What if you could do it, but it took you a second to think about it and arrange the letters properly? What if nobody ever gave you a chance? What if they noticed your pause, even if it was just for a second or two, and jumped in to spell your own name for you? EVERY TIME? And smiled at you like they were so sure they'd done good and you should be grateful to them? I think I would hate having my trouble rubbed in my face that way every time. I think I would not see the intercessions on my behalf as a helpful thing, because it's not as if the me in this scenario couldn't do it herself. It's just that everyone assumed she was stupid. And I think that would seriously start to affect me.

And now imagine if it wasn't just that one thing. Imagine if the problem had many facets, many situations where that could happen, all kinds of variations on the theme. But none of them happened any less often. They ALL happened ALL the time, and it wasn't just strangers. It was your friends, your family, your lovers. Your coworkers. Your boss. It affected how well people thought you could do your job. It affected your livelihood, and it also affected your ability to fight for that livelihood. And on and on like that.

So think about that before you rush in, assuming you know what's best. If someone is genuinely in distress and nobody helps, that's a terrible thing, but it doesn't have to be either/or, black/white, act like a hero or be a villain. Learn to wait a second and see what happens. Learn to ask. Understand that there is a difference between someone in a wheelchair figuring out how to manage his or her groceries and someone choking to death in a restaurant. Sometimes being kind is saving the day, and sometimes being kind is realizing it's not your day to save.

So yeah. We are not babies. We are not helpless. We are not stupid. We just have a thing that makes life different, sometimes harder, but we are still humans like you.

And this one is especially important for the families, friends, and caregivers of someone with disabilities: If we are over the age of eighteen, then we are also adults. We want to be treated like adults who have a thing, not overgrown children who need to be managed. If you are a person who regularly helps out someone who is disabled in ways that need helping, that is very awesome of you, but do not for one second think that this is All About You. Do not for one second think that you are somehow parenting us, that you get to make All The Decisions for us and speak for us just because you're the one helping, or that you have the right to put all your stuff ahead of ours because you are doing us a favour. (Like, you know, if you offer to drive me to or from somewhere, please don't leave me stranded in your car while you also run two hours of errands. If I needed the ride, it's because I was already in pain or low on energy, etc, and the net result of your actions is that I am worse off after your help than I would have been without it. Seriously, that can wreck me enough to make me miss work on subsequent days. I completely understand that you are doing me a favour, but favours that make people miserable are not actually good. I could have found someone else if it was going to be a problem for you!)

If you wouldn't do it to a healthy adult, don't do it to us. If you cannot do it respectfully, get out. Learn to ask. Learn to negotiate, like with anyone else. You need to plan together, in as much as you're both able, like your priorities are both important, because to do anything less is to assume that we are not really as real as you, that we don't matter as much, that we are burdens or accessories or projects, not people just as valid and feeling as you. The fact that you are healthy enough to do more than I can and help me out does not diminish me as a person. It does not make you better or more important and it does not turn off my brain or how I feel.

Even if I was "helpless", even if I was incapable of feeding myself or wiping my own ass, I'd still be a person, and I'd want to be spoken to and listened to and considered as one, just like you would if I was your perfectly abled neighbour. Even if my level of mental competence was lower than the norm, I'd want to be treated like it's where it's at, at 80% or 50% or wherever, but like my feelings and personhood were at 100%. Not like it's all at zero. Because I'm still a real human being inside this body.

To conclude: You don't like being patronized, probably. Neither do we.

(Blogging Against Disablism Day 2012 roundup.)
moiread: (DR WHO • rocks!)
Eeee! I have my first grey hairs! They're at the back of my head, where I can't see them myself, and the first person to point them out to me was kind of drunk, so I wasn't sure how credible it was, but it was corroborated today! I have grey hairs! Plural!

I know some people freak out about going grey and try to hide it, but personally I think it's really cool. It's hard for me to articulate why it makes me so excited, but it does. It doesn't feel like losing youth; it feels like accumulating life. Maybe because I spent the first half of my life feeling like I wouldn't make it to adulthood? I'm not sure. It just makes me really happy. I was also ridiculously excited for my first wrinkle; doubly so when it turned out to be a laugh line. And now I have grey hairs! Hooray!

Next thing in this category that I'm excited for: Turning 30! Only a few more years to go.
moiread: (STAR TREK • I got out of bed for this?)
I know everybody wants to hear how the gyno appointment went this morning but frankly I don't even know where to begin. It was such a mess. )
moiread: (dude • stock.)
(Disclaimer: If you are reading this, you are not the person with whom I am angry, and I do not expect any of you to ever be this much of an asshole, but I am going to say it anyway because I need to get this off my chest.)

Look. I understand that you have opinions about women's sexuality that are coming from your interpretation of your particular religion. I respect your right to your religion. I do. I may have all kinds of other feelings about your particular choice of religion, or about religions in general, but I respect your right to have one and to live your religion as you see fit within the limits of the law and basic human rights.

But when the group is discussing the legitimate treatment of ovarian cysts through the use of the hormones available in oral contraceptive pills, you do not get to tell me that you "have a different opinion" because you're Catholic.

You have a different opinion on what? OVARIAN CYSTS? Did I miss the part where you obtained a medical degree in the last thirty minutes and now you want to contest the diagnosis? Are you advocating for prayer in lieu of treatment? Do you think cysts are some kind of divine punishment and therefore should be left alone? Seriously, what? What part of the treatment of ovarian cysts do you have a different opinion ondue to your religion? Because from here it just looks like you opened your mouth without thinking first and let a little steaming turd drop out.

We were not discussing sex. We were not discussing religion. We were not discussing you. We were discussing medical treatments for medical conditions using available medications. I understand that those other aspects are part of a similar, related discussion happening in many other places at the moment, but that is not what we were talking about. You have missed the point entirely.

And frankly, it offends me on a personal level that you would even have the gall to say it, considering the medical condition in question is something I have been fighting for the last thirteen years, something that has caused me a lot of pain and grief and hospital visits, that has left me with deep emotional scars that I have had to work on healing. Just because I have the good fortune to live in a country that isn't completely fucking batshit about medical care doesn't magically negate my strong connection to this particular topic.

Maybe you didn't know it was personal to me. I can see how that would be the case, as I rarely talk about my medical problems outside of LJ or Twitter. But I expected you to be smart enough to figure out that it's got to be personal to somebody, whether you know them to be within earshot or not, and I hoped you would be classy enough to treat the topic accordingly.

TL;DR version: My ovarian cysts have nothing to do with your fucking religious views. Shut the fuck up.
moiread: (bedmonster • alicia w.)

Chelle: I would love to hang out and play SW with you guys but I have the dead.
Chelle: I think I just need to go to sleep. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, etc.
Kevin: Sleep well!
Chelle: I am sad to not have the energy for my friends/hobbies this past week.
Chelle: Waaaaah my life is hard.
Kevin: *patpat*
Kevin: It's not as if you're still recovering from four weeks of constant pain or something.
Chelle: You and your logic.
Chelle: Honestly.
Chelle: What is that shit.
Kevin: I don't know.
Kevin: I suspect your relentless sensibleness may actually be rubbing off on me.
Chelle: There are worse fates.
Kevin: I don't know.
Kevin: Anything of yours rubbing on me is pretty terrible.
Kevin: Lord knows what I'd catch.
Chelle: See, there now, you've gone and ruined a perfectly good friendship moment.
Chelle: Clearly you are still thoroughly yourself.

I'm sure I will become an interesting human being again... soon. Yes.

In the meantime, have a giggle while you wait:

moiread: (GOSSIP GIRL • bffls.)
Whoever had 20 days in the betting pool, you win. Didn't even need an ER trip this time. Apparently I'm just good at it now.

BB ([livejournal.com profile] endeers) thinks I should name it 'little Fuckyou' and throw a baby shower with cake and presents. I admit I am not opposed to celebratory cake.

And on that note, I am going to go genuinely cry with relief. I have been in an incredible amount of pain every day and I am so happy this is over.
moiread: (facepalm • lisa e.)
Back in the ER after passing out on a restaurant floor in the middle of a nice meal with friends. This is beginning to feel like a tradition of some kind. Maybe I have bad restaurant karma? Either that or my friends keep poisoning me...

*gives you all the side-eye*

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