I guess I should update. It's at the point now where people have been sending me emails asking for proof of life and besides, it's something to do.
I had a triple infection before Christmas -- ear, sinus, lungs -- that turned into bronchitis and then pneumonia due to multiple doctors not taking me seriously. I seem to finally be infection-free as of last week (yes, really, it dragged on that long) but in other ways I'm still recovering. I have been unable to work or DJ or be social (even on Skype or similar, because of the holycraplungrestriction), so I've been playing a lot of Star Wars: The Old Republic. And writing, when I have the energy, which is something I haven't done in years. I suck less than I expected for being so out of practice, which was a wonderful surprise but is somehow also psyching me out. Part of me is afraid it's a fluke and that if I continue, I will start writing more accurately (as in worse) and be a failure. Because my brain is stupid. (We already knew this. I have the diagnoses to prove it!)
Of course, my recovery from sad 18th century convalescence is just in time for hormone-laden IUD attempt #3, which some of you may remember is the reason why I've been on crazy chemically-induced menopause for the last four months. After today, if all goes well, we continue the menopause for two months to give the IUD time to settle and then take me off the drugs and see what happens.
The IUD procedure is in a little less than four hours. I should be asleep, and I had been sleeping, but they gave me some drugs to take the night before and HOLY FUCK I AM IN PAIN NOW because of them. Whatever this "softening the cervix" is, it's excruciating, and it woke me up. Hard. Apparently these are the same drugs used as abortifacients early on in pregnancy and as an alternate labor-inducer later on, but I don't have contractions, just screaming cervical pain. I have been lying here in bed crying for the last hour, and we all know I have wicked pain tolerance so that should give you some idea. I managed to hobble around the apartment trying to find my emergency Oxy stash but I think I'm out. What swell fucking timing.
I wish I still had some pot and a working vaporizer. Right now I am willing to chance the seizure risk (if there even is one, since that neurologist has turned out to be pretty whack) just for some pain relief and some sleep.
Times like these, I wish I wasn't single. I am always the one taking care of everybody else, and just once I would like to be the one receiving pot scones for procedure pain instead of making them.
Maybe that can be my new benchmark for possible partners: Would you get out of bed at 4am to drive to my dealer and then come home and help me get high? If so, apply within. Include resume. Must like foreign cuisine, terrible/awesome sci-fi movies, and loud rambunctious sex.
God it hurts. I don't even want this. I'm only doing it because it's one more thing I can say I tried, and if it does happen to work, well, okay then. It will be useful. Not as useful as actually solving the problem, but good enough that I can live with it. I don't expect it to work, though, and frankly I find it cruel to ask me to go through this much pain and nonsense over and over with new inventive variations.
But what do I know? I'm just a stupid baby machine too young and naive to have grasped my real true purpose as a woman. Asking the medical community to please make my pain stop is just me being short-sighted! This will all be worth it later when I start popping out sprogs, I'm sure.
Not that I'm bitter or anything. I'm allowed a bit of melodrama right now.
I wish I could just say I've had enough and hit a stop button. Not in a suicide way, but just in a fed up with this stupid shit kind of way. I have developed as much strength of character as I need. These lessons have been very thorough. You can turn it off now. We're good. I promise.
Okay, I seem to have found a position that doesn't hurt as much. It's kind of a weird hunched-over one, which doesn't make sense to me anatomically, but I am not going to disbelieve so hard I pass it up. If I prop myself up with enough pillows, I can probably get some more sleep, and bad sleep is arguably better than no sleep at all.
I'm sorry my life is so depressing lately. But honestly, I put it here so that I don't have to keep dregging it up in my regular one-on-one social interactions. It lets me keep those more normal. It seems to work out. But I will try to post about things that are more awesome/funny/interesting soon.
PS: If you ever find the stop button, let me know.Posted via LiveJournal app for Android.