Category Archives: Uncategorized

Crazy From The Heat (Not Really)

In four days I leave for Florida. I bought a one-way ticket and rented a beach house for two weeks. Can I afford this? No. I put it on a credit card and hopefully I can pay it back. I needed some time away. Most people think that because I’m on Disability my life is filled with TV and eating Bon Bons on the couch. It’s far from it.

Everyday I am in physical and emotional pain. Everyday I wake up with a lump in my throat, a stiff neck, lower back screaming, hips popping, and a wave of dizziness that let’s me know I’m still here. Lucky me. If it’s a Monday I look forward to my dad coming home from Dialysis. I watch the clock. If it’s past 10:30 I know it’s going to be bad. This means that the staff has infiltrated his fistula again and can’t stop his bleeding. They have to leave him “clamped” longer until the bleeding stops. They blame him and make him feel like a scolded school boy. They have even gone as far as putting him at a station without a TV for a week and that was built for a Right Handed Patient, this means the tubes and wires have to across my dad’s stomach and chest making it hard to relax for four hours.

My sister said today that he needs to speak up for himself. She was pissed at me because I hung up on her. I hung up on her because she wasn’t paying attention to anything I was saying. I couldn’t reach her all day yesterday. She had just come back from another week long vacation where there was supposedly no cell phone reception. This was her seventh or eighth this summer. I’m afraid to leave now because she won’t even answer the phone when she’s 10 minutes away. What if something happens to my Dad while I’m gone and she doesn’t answer the phone? Why can’t she understand that I am sick too?

Lately my stuttering is so bad it scares me. I find myself on the floor in the bathroom rocking back and forth, stuttering to myself. When I stutter it’s to a point where it sounds like a deaf person trying to speak for the first time. I mean no disrespect, I mean my voice has the same pitch and tone. The Doctors found it odd themselves, it was unusual for someone with a stutter to have a change in their pitch and tone. It was a key factor in the diagnosis of the type of Conversion Disorder I have. It’s why it sounds so disturbing to the people who know me. I don’t find it funny and I will never understand why or how anyone could laugh or mimic someone like me. I do think it’s unacceptable the same way my dad’s Dialysis care is.

I find my fuse is short lately. I also find myself not really caring. I have had episodes where I have let things that bother me simmer for so long that one day I see red and hear a rushing sound in my ears. If I continue to swallow it down it’s going to kill me. I’m worried my dad is going to hurt himself when I’m away. He’s been extremely depressed. It’s been 90 degrees here and he’s working under his truck for 8 straight hours without stopping. He does these things just to see if he still can. He’ll lift a 100 pound bag of grain just to see if he can. He just had his Aortic Aneurysm repaired and he isn’t supposed to lift anything heavy with the arm that has the fistula! I can’t take it some days.

I also wish my twin sister would love and understand me someday. I wish she would stop with the guilt and shame. I wish she understood that I didn’t take attention away from her consciously. I don’t remember most of it because of alcohol or I just don’t remember it. I know, thanks to my one friend, that I’m not that crazy. She has one of the best memories and wonders what the hell my sister’s problem is. My best friend remembers the bullying and teasing I went through. That’s putting it nicely. While that was happening my sister had a large amount of friends and wasn’t bullied or teased. She never intervened on my behalf. When I became a Senior in High School and started drinking I turned a little mean and they left me alone. The kids in my school knew who I hung out with outside of school at that time and were afraid of them. For once I caught a break until I realized I was tossed into a much worse place. A place of worse degradation, brutality, and suffering.

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Bipolar Memories

I recently read Polishing Dookie’s post “The Piano Man” on her blog and found so many similarities that it had me thinking. I thought of my own Grandparents and immediate family. I then went through some pictures. I’m not sure if this was a good idea or not.

I never knew my father’s father. He passed away at a young age from bleeding ulcers. I know he was stern, hardworking, and did not show affection. I’ve only seen one photo of him and it was blurry. I know my dad was born and raised mostly on a farm. He’s the oldest of 9.  My father’s siblings do not talk to each other at all. They do not show emotion. All the men on my dad’s side of the family have these famous Popeye forearms. I’m not kidding. My dad, not realizing what his looked like, had an anchor tattoo on one and a skull on the other. The tattoos were so horrible no one was surprised when the tattoo artist was shot to death a few years later.

My father’s mother was 4′ 9″ and also stern. She didn’t do hugs until she was in her 70’s. She didn’t tell her children she loved them until she was in her 70’s. She had been adopted and the circumstances of her childhood were less than ideal from what I can piece together. My sister and I would be left with her on occasion when my parents needed a weekend alone or there was an emergency. It wasn’t our favorite place to be.

For some reason we spent most of our time with my mother’s side of the family. My mother’s mother was loud and overbearing. She wasn’t the best wife or mother. Of course my mom always longed for her approval. She never got it. Even though she raised her brothers and sisters and was the one who sacrificed the most. My mother’s father was a plumber and served in the Army. He let my Grandmother do as she pleased without question or responsibility. Eventually she left him with 7 children, there was 8 but she had given one up for adoption when they were first married. It wasn’t my Grandfather’s.

My mother was close to her father. When he was diagnosed with Colon Cancer and Bone Cancer she was devastated. He insisted on being treated at the VA Hospital. He was diagnosed too late but as a last ditch effort they had taken bone from his neck to fuse something. He had a halo screwed into his head. When my mom would take us daily to see him she would have to clean him, change his diaper, there would be vomit running down the front of the halo and his top. She would clean this too. Her siblings couldn’t see him like that. When we received the phone call that he had passed away I could hear my mom screaming at someone on the phone. The Hospital was refusing to remove the halo saying it would break his neck. She thought this was insane since he was already dead. He had suffered with that thing on him and she wanted it off. She told them she was coming there with a screw driver and if it wasn’t off by the time she got there she was doing it herself.

My mom was one of the toughest most loving people I will ever know. Her experience with Lung Cancer changed her personality and changed the rest of us forever. I’ll never fully recover from those years.

I’m at the point in my life where my father is thinking of what he needs to do with the house and anything else he has. He’s been trying to figure this out for months. My mother wanted the house split 3 ways. My dad isn’t so sure it should be like that. He knows everything that I’ve done for him and my mom. I’ve also paid for a lot of things and pay monthly bills. I’m on Disability. My sister is married with a house, my half brother makes a lot of money that he usually gambles or drinks away.

It’s already started. My mom had a ring made for me from an extremely gaudy ring my Grandmother had. When she showed it to me she said “This is for you after I’m gone. I know you’ll probably never get married like your sister so I wanted you to have something for yourself”. Now my sister debates this and my father doesn’t know what the truth is. I doubt the ring is even worth much. It’s just the point of it. I can only imagine what they’ll do when it comes to my dad’s antique clocks or if he doesn’t make a will or a decision about the house. I’m not looking forward to it. Neither one of my siblings would have a problem with me living in a shelter or my car. At one time my sister had said something about me living with her. They have a good sized house and a spare room. I wouldn’t because of her husband. I mentioned it in passing recently and she denied ever saying it.

Family. Do we have to like them? No. Do we have to love them? It depends on who you ask.


WARNING: Do Not Leave Alone Or Feed After Midnight

13626476_10210547133301435_6524932080955258860_nHello! For those of you that have not read my blog before I am a 43 year old woman, diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder at 36/37, diagnosed with Conversion Disorder, and an alcoholic in remission for over 7 years. I also have Chronic Kidney Disease which has left me with one functioning kidney and Celiac Disease. I have always lived at home with my parents and my mom passed away 8 and 1/2 years ago. I took care of her while she was ill. My father is on dialysis and I now take care of him.

When I stopped drinking for the first year I didn’t go many places. I was trying to deal with why I felt the way I did and going to various Doctors. Years later when I found myself in a stable place I realized how many people no longer wanted to BE in my life. They didn’t want to put in the effort they thought it would take to deal with a “crazy” person. Some of them still drank and didn’t want to put me in an awkward situation. Maybe my erratic behavior was just too much. It wasn’t just friends but family too. It didn’t bother me so much when it was cousins or relatives I hadn’t talked to in long time. What did hurt was when it was a relative I was very close to and loved like my mom. In fact, my mother’s sister. My own twin sister slowly started backing away from me. I have not seen my nephews in a long time when I used to see them at least twice a week.

The isolation can get to me. When you combine that with my medication it can be embarrassing. When I do leave the house I find myself talking too much and too fast to strangers in stores or employees. When I leave the store I sit in my car and cry. I feel humiliated because I was so excited to be talking to another human that I babbled their ear off.

I did this two times already today. A woman called to ask about my dad’s pigeons. I talked to her for 45 minutes. A politician came to the door and I talked to her about everything that’s wrong with our state for a half hour.

I remember when I worked in retail and we had customers that we knew were “talkers”. We all tried to avoid them even me. We would roll our eyes when we would see them coming because we knew it would be a big chunk out of our day. I didn’t mind some of them and actually looked forward to a few of them. Then there were a few with problems that no matter what you said or did wouldn’t understand that they were crossing a boundary. They would stand too close, follow you around the store, try to come behind the counter, or expect special favors. These were the only people that bothered me.

I’ll never forget the day I went to my local drug store. As I approached the counter I saw all three pharmacists roll their eyes. There was no one else around. I left immediately to cry in my car. I know I talk too much sometimes. It’s ironic really.

For most of my life I didn’t talk at all. I looked at the ground while walking, never made eye contact, and tried to hide behind my hair. I only talked when I drank. That was it. Sober I never really did. In school I always tried to sit in the back of the class and go unnoticed. I wore clothes that were too big for me and dark colors. I didn’t even use the bathrooms. Maybe that contributed to my kidney problems. The girl’s bathroom is the last place an awkward obese girl wants to be caught alone. So I never went.

Now I can’t shut up and there isn’t anyone to talk to. I can’t win. I thought I was making progress with my sister. I’ve been trying to be cheery on the phone with her. The second day of this she sounded weird. I found out it was because we were not discussing her. As long as we talk about her problems she’s happy. She also took off on another vacation and said she told me about it but she didn’t. She won’t have phone service so if anything happens to my dad I can’t reach her. This from someone who just gave me shit about taking some time for myself at the end of August. My Doctors suggested it. My kidney function has gotten worse and the stress I’m under is taking a huge toll on my health.

I’m going to book my vacation and let the cards fall where they may. You never know what’s around the corner so I’ve learned not to put things off.

If you feed me after midnight I’ll have a gallbladder attack and I wanted it to sound like Gremlins. lol


Did The Dog Eat Your Homework?

When I do a post that deals with facts or statistics, I make sure to check and double check that I’m accurate. It’s too bad not everyone does the same. In today’s society we are all too eager to accept what we hear on the news as fact. We can no longer do this. News stations have become biased and sometimes do not even fact check their own reporter’s stories. What seems like a small detail to most people, for some reason is a big deal to me.

I have Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr. I only go on Facebook to contact relatives that are out of state. I like posting pictures on Instagram and looking at art on there also. Twitter I’ve had issues with many times so I try to stay off of it. Tumblr I don’t really understand. I’ll have to take the time to figure it out.

Facebook can be a problem for me at times. I have received “anonymous” posts about how the “Mentally Ill” are using up the public’s tax dollars. One suggested we should be sterilized and put on an island so no one would have to pay for our “retarded” offspring. There was a drawing that came with it. All the people wore animal skins like cavemen and were wide eyed with wild hair. It was such a treat to receive that one.

Every time I see these offensive posts I want to retaliate. I wanted people to know that I worked hard from the age of 12 to 37. I worked 50 to 60 hour weeks for years. My cousin’s husband asked how much I received from Disability. I thought it was rude of him to ask and I wasn’t going to tell him. He kept running his mouth about how it couldn’t be enough to live on and I should find a “rich guy” while I still had my looks. I said nothing.

The day I chose sobriety was the day I started to bottle my feelings up. I never could handle confrontation or someone criticizing me. Even as I type this my cheeks feel warm with embarrassment at the thought. So I stopped having opinions and started agreeing with everyone. What I got from this behavior is a nice ulcer, migraines, and inappropriate outbursts of anger when everything had built up and my brain couldn’t take it anymore.

Now it’s Election time. For the first time in 43 years I find myself frustrated by the ignorance of those younger than me. I’m frustrated with anyone who shares quotes from FOX NEWS or a celebrity without doing their homework regarding the situation or that person.

One example I have is a girl I went to Hair School with. She supports Trump. She’s in her mid to late twenties. She shared a quote from Ted Nugent a Trump supporter. She wasn’t born when Mr. Nugent’s music was popular. One of his more popular songs is “Jailbait”. He has admitted on camera a fondness for “young girls”. In 1978 when he was 30 years old he convinced a girl’s parents to make him her legal guardian so he could have sex with her. She was 17. The song “Jailbait” discusses a sexual relationship with a 13 year old. Supposedly this is fantasy. I’m a 43 year old woman and have never fantasized about being with a teenage boy. Ever. And yes I do know that Mr. Nugent isn’t the only Musician that has done this. He is someone who has publicly admitted it, shown no remorse, sits on the board of the NRA, and speaks at Political Rallies.

In 1977 Ted Nugent told High Times how he dodged the draft. Supposedly Mr. Nugent is a staunch supporter of our Troops. Even though he himself went to great lengths not to serve his country. He purposefully made himself ill so he was pissing and defecating in his pants. He is now a Board Member of the NRA.

Mr. Nugent also sees Addiction and Mental Illness as character flaws not illnesses. He believes that a person is just “weak”. I just read a blog someone else had written about Mr. Nugent. The person was suggesting that he was mentally ill or had a drug/alcohol problem. Neither is the case. Mr. Nugent was never one to over indulge and lose control. A Narcissist maybe, but there’s no mental illness here. He knows exactly what he is doing at all times. Is anyone actually listening to him? We can only hope not.

Last example I’ll leave you with is a touchy one. People were complaining about a Navy Seal’s widow that was interviewed on the Today show because when Matt Lauer asked what she would say to her children about their dad and how she would want them to remember him, her response was “His love for Christ”. As the interview was replayed on various networks throughout the day the “His love for Christ” part was edited out. I don’t know the reasoning behind it. The person causing the largest stir is quoted as saying “If we ever forget that we’re one nation under GOD, then we will be a nation gone under”

I believe Navy Seals work for the Government which is “The State” and there must be a separation of Church and State. You can believe in any faith you want to and serve your country that is what makes the U.S. the U.S. but when you cross that slippery slope into religion it opens a can of worms. People start asking ridiculous questions or make statements that can be misconstrued. You can’t win.

I do know I’ve grown tired and too old to swallow it down anymore.


ATTACK OF THE KILLER GALLBLADDER!

For at least the last 15 years I have had trouble with my Gallbladder. My Primary Care Doctor continuously said that it didn’t need to come out.

There were times where my Gallbladder caused me serious problems. The one I remember most is the Rehearsal Dinner for my sister’s Wedding. It was held at an Irish Bar but for some reason had a Pirate theme. I have no clue why. I believe it was the Irish stew that did me in. Although I wasn’t practicing sobriety at the time I never, ever, drank around my parents. I knew it wasn’t from drinking, there was a lot of garlic in that stew though!

So that night I stayed with her in a fancy mansion where the wedding was to be held. At 2:00 a.m. it started. The sweat was pouring off of me, I woke up nauseous and ran for the bathroom. When this happens I usually have some Ginger Ale or Coke to settle my stomach and after an hour I’m fine.

I woke my sister up. She wasn’t happy. Her words to me were “This isn’t about you, tomorrow is my day. Go back to sleep!”. I couldn’t find any soda so I spent the night on the bathroom floor.

Over the years I’ve had many Gallbladder attacks. I learned what to avoid and when I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease the attacks became less frequent. I don’t know what happened 3 days ago but I must have pissed someone off somewhere.

I have never been in so much pain in my entire life. From the middle of my breastbone going down under my right ribcage was a pain I can’t even describe. I tried everything that usually works. It got to a point I couldn’t breathe. Then the electricity went out. It was 90 degrees. I’m also on antibiotics for a bladder infection from my kidney stents and wasn’t feeling great to begin with. I went 2 days like this. Finally I went to the E.R. around midnight last night.

I might as well have gone to the 24/hour Emergency Veterinarians up the street. They took blood (everything was normal), took x-rays (you can’t see gallstones/gallbladder on an x-ray), they brought in a portable Ultrasound. I though finally! Two Doctors and an Ultrasound technician couldn’t find my friggin’ Gallbladder!!!! They ran that wand everywhere. At one point I think I said “Seriously?”. Even I knew where they should’ve been. So they abandoned ship and told me I would have to have a CAT scan. FOUR HOURS go by and another person comes to take more blood when they already said my bloodwork was fine. I hadn’t seen a nurse or doctor in that four hours. I refused her taking more blood and said I was leaving. I started taking off all the tape and sticky round things, I took off the blood pressure cuff and the thing they put on your finger. Usually when this even falls off by accident someone comes to check. Not one single person came and my machine was going off like crazy. I knew the Phlebotomist hadn’t told them yet because I was watching her.

Ten minutes later as I started to remove my IV she told them and a nurse came in. The nurse got the Doctor and I told him I wanted to leave.

I was still in some pain but not as bad. When I arrived home I looked up “How to ease Gallbladder pain”. Every site said the same. Apple Cider Vinegar. You can mix some in with Apple Juice. The acid in the vinegar stops the Liver from making cholesterol that forms most gallstones and dissolves the ones already there.

I didn’t have Apple Cider Vinegar, I only had distilled white vinegar, but I was desperate and drank 2 tablespoons of it. I immediately starting to burp/belch which I hadn’t been able to do, not even with a bottle of TUMS. It’s been about 5 1/2 hours with no pain so far. I could cry with relief. I hope it lasts.

Normally I wouldn’t disrespect someone’s profession like that. I was in serious agony and I didn’t even get a blanket or a kind word. I know it was a Saturday night but they were not that busy. For 2 Doctor’s and a Technician to fail at finding my Gallbladder and continuously ask me if I was sure I still had one was just ludicrous. They have ALL MY RECORDS THERE. I might forget some things but I think I would remember having something removed.

The degree of medical care in this country continues to get worse. I can’t blame the Doctor’s 100%. There have been cutbacks to a dangerous fault. There simply are not enough good people working and the people working are there for too many hours and have lost their compassion. When you lose that why bother showing up at all?

 


Love Resembles Rage

When I was younger I witnessed the life of two people that loved each other as much as two people could. They had their ups and downs but at the end of the day they always had each other.

I watched as he completely changed his life for her so he could stay and be a good husband and father. I never questioned if he resented it.

You might ask why I never questioned it. It’s because I saw that same man drop to his knees and howl with rage and agony when seeing her lifeless body.

After that he changed. He slowly became a dry drunk and I never realized it until now. I never realized how much he’s like my sister. Neither of them knowing what they are so lucky to have or what they were lucky to have experienced.

I have no delusions about my mom. I know she wasn’t perfect. But she was a mom’s mom. Being a mom came naturally to her. The only downside to this was her being a mom to everyone who needed one. This sometimes left her real children with little of her time. I understand and loved her more for it.

When my dad and sister complain about their lives now I can’t help but feel this simmer start in my stomach. Resentment bubbles up and flows like lava. I want to scream ” You got to love and be loved! You got to have children that love you! You have friends and family that want to be around you!”

The problem is I will not have that. I will continue to get worse. They will continue to not hear me. I can’t have children anymore. I’m 43 and have not really spoken to a man I find attractive while sober in well over 7 or 10 years and my Psychiatrist and Other Doctors have now gotten together and decided that there really isn’t much they can do for me on the Bipolar, Conversion Disorder, side of things. Either it will affect the one kidney or the Celiac or something else. Therapy has even been deemed useless. My cognitive skills or memory has gone downhill.

I know I’m filled with positivity.


Making Things Up

Today wasn’t a great day. I went to my Urologist. I arrived 20 minutes. It seems I’m always late these days. I have no concept of time. I always have a feeling of being lost or like I can’t find what I’m looking for. There’s a constant ache inside of me that feels like grief. I don’t know why.

The Urologist confirmed that I there’s a problem with my stents and I have to take antibiotics. I already suspected this because my back hurts and I’ve been running a fever. I also feel sluggish. My dad isn’t doing well either. He’s depressed. Nothing I say or do can help him. He doesn’t know how to handle his feelings so he lashes out at me.

My sister just called me for an update. It’s what she does instead of actually coming to visit our father. At the end of our conversation I asked her a question that has been bothering me lately.

I asked her if she was worried to have her children spend time with me. She said that I “was making stuff up in my head”. She also added that she did invite me to go with them to The Aquarium a few weeks ago. I don’t remember this. She could have.

Last year she always invited me over. Her and I would take the kids to local places and then to lunch. This year supposedly I was invited to the one thing. Ever since her husband and I had a disagreement it appears that she’s avoiding me. She repeatedly said the words “you’re making stuff up”. I didn’t like it. What person with a mental illness wants to hear that from their family? It hurt me. Everything hurts me. Now I’ll hear about how I’m “too sensitive” and she can’t talk to me when I get like that. So why bother at all?

It’s funny when I speak to my family in Florida they have nothing negative to say to me. They actually keep asking me to come visit for awhile. I will be taking them up on the offer soon. I hope.


PRIDE BEFORE THE FALL

My Dad was released from the Hospital yesterday afternoon. He had his Aortic Aneurysm Graft repaired because it was leaking. It was a risky surgery because they have gone through his groin 3 times recently for surgeries and he’s on Dialysis and has Vascular problems. He spent his 1 day of recovery in the ICU.

I woke up this morning with my usual stiff neck, joints, and back pain. Stumbled out of bed and made my way downstairs. I expected to find my dad on the couch or if not there at least outside in the yard. I didn’t expect to find his truck gone. He didn’t leave a note.

I called my sister. If you have read anything previous by me you’re probably wondering “what the hell did she do that for?”. The only reasons I have are habit and hope. She didn’t pick up or return my call. I’m not sure how other families are, but I think most would try to answer their phone knowing their father was just released from the ICU after a major surgery. That’s just me I guess.

When he did come home, he came in carrying heavy bags of groceries. The phone rang just as he sat down. I made no attempt to answer it. Of course it was my sister. My dad went down the list of all the things he had done this morning. I became more angry as I listened to each one. My sister on the other hand was encouraging. She then wanted to speak to me.

I told her I had a problem with him doing all of these things then bragging about them like it was a contest. She said it was a good a thing. That he needed to feel he COULD do these things. I understand that, but he hadn’t even been out of the hospital a full 24 hours when he did them. His pride is going to kill him. My anxiety and constant worrying about him is going to kill me. This took us right down the same path of me getting “help” or going into a hospital for “inpatient” care. My family might  hear me when I speak, but they don’t listen. Maybe it’s one of the reasons I repeat myself so often. I even do it here. I even type the same words two times in a row. I do this often.

I’ve been banished to my room for a “time out” by my dad. Did I mention I’m 43? I was crying too much. It’s what I do in the morning until about 2 or 3 p.m. then I get a little better. Diurnal Variation I think it’s called. Topamax can make it worse. I looked at houses to rent if I get to go on a vacation. It calms me down a little. Lately I just want my mom. There are none of the usual triggers. It isn’t her birthday or the anniversary of her death so I don’t why I’m having dreams about her and missing her so much more than usual.


BOTHER

Last night, around 11:00 p.m. I started to have incredible pain in my diaphragm. I pretty much knew what it was but it has never been this bad. The been went straight down to my pelvis. I knew it was my Gallbladder. I was also nauseas and sweating. But the pain was unbearable. I tried the fetal position, it would work for about 15 minutes then it was like my entire midsection was having spasms of pain. I wanted to call 911 but honestly I was too tired.

I managed to call my sister at 7:00 a.m. and she asked what I wanted her to do. I don’t know. Say something soothing, offer to come over and just sit with me. She knew I was in the house alone, our dad was in the ICU after his surgery, and I was sick. She sighed and said “Do you want me to come there?”. The way she said it I knew she didn’t want to. Then before I could answer she told me I was on speaker phone because she was on her way to help our ex-sister-in-law because she had surgery on her shoulder. That pretty much summed it up.

I hung up with her and immediately received a call from the Hospital that they were releasing my dad in about a hour. I started to panic. It was too much. The crying started, then came the tremors and stuttering. Talking to myself and repeating every negative thing ever said to me while rocking back and forth. I can’t keep going like this. I have not slept in 2 days. The deep depression in the mornings that do not start to get better until 2:00 p.m. is mentally exhausting. My doctor isn’t much help. My family is sick of it. I had visions of banging my head against the wall to make the dull ache in my head and heart go away for even just a short time.

Running a fever doesn’t help either. Everything is screwed up. I think one of my stents is out of place. I won’t gross you out with the details. My back is killing me, I’m not urinating much and when I do there is blood. The can’t see me until the 27th. I just don’t want to ruin the 79% function in the 1 kidney I have left.

Why couldn’t my sister just come over and hug me? I watch too many movies and too much TV. This is what she tells me. I have unrealistic expectations. Real life sisters don’t act like that. I’m tired of begging people to love me or even like me. I’ve been doing it since I was 5. I don’t even like me. And that there is the problem.


RESEARCH YOUR OWN MEDICATIONS

Unfortunately, all too often Physicians will rely on what a Sales Rep. tells them while pitching whatever Drug they’re trying to sell. My Psychiatrist has a problem with this big time.

I picked up my prescription for Topamax this morning. This is my mood stabilizer. I’ve been on it for years but have been having problems since I went into kidney failure a year ago. When I went to pay for it the pharmacist said “You really need to read the new information about this drug. Some of it relates to you.” I said ok and went home. when I did read the new information I wanted to punch something.

Here is the new info: Recent studies have found that Topamax can cause the following in some patients, we have found it to be about 1 in 500.

  • decrease in vision
  • blockage of fluid in the eye causing increased pressure (Secondary Angle Closure Glaucoma)
  • These issues can lead to permanent loss of vision
  • an increased level of acid in your blood
  • leads to Metabolic Acidosis causing (osteoporosis, osteopenia, and kidney stones)
  • fatigue, no appetited, change in heartbeat, trouble thinking

Your Healthcare Provider should be doing regular blood tests to measure the amount of acid in your blood. Nope. Never.

Topamax can also make you feel irritable, anxious, depressed, restless, agitated, impulsive, and aggressive. Imagine that.

I fit everything on here but the scariest thing is I told him about the Eye Doctor being worried about the pressure behind my eyes and he fluffed it off. I’m really off today. I’m mad because my sister isn’t taking phone calls. Our dad has major surgery in the morning. But why should that interrupt her day at the beach? I know I sound like a bitch. I just wish I say these things out loud. My day was filled with being peed on by Dutch at the Vet’s and my Dad told me to “Eat shit”. I talked too much at the Vet’s office because I haven’t talked to people in a long time then felt embarrassed. I then cried in the car on the way home. Something has to give soon.

 


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