Confronting my prejudices

Holy cow. This article was written by a person suffering from almost every disease I have struggled to believe in... and on some of them I am now convinced, while others still seem fake-a-roo. The co-presence of all of these tough-to-diagnose and faddish illnesses in one person, though, really gave me a knee-jerk of rejection. Anyone with the money and determination to seek a diagnosis will eventually get a foggy one, right? Or a foggy ten? Or is ALL of this real and she has God and the Devil making bets about her, like Job? Gah, poor woman, either way.

If she had mentioned any one of these illnesses, I'd have tsked and said, "poor thing." But when it becomes two, my reaction is "wtf?" And when it becomes four, my emotional reaction is, "she needs another hobby."

Not all diseases are clean-cut things, detectable as if by a litmus test. Some of them are hard to diagnose collections of symptoms. Gratifyingly, human genome studies are now shedding light on some of them (such as Acute Intermittent Porphyria, from which my husband suffers -- or Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which I have.) Others, such as, oh, say, rosacea, are still thought to come from a myriad of causes and are merely a similar set of physiological changes and symptoms. Things get even more complicated with respect to mental illnesses.

Quibbling over where boundaries are drawn in language and thought is the foundation of my training as a literary critic and an anthropologist. It's inevitable that I react with skepticism to neat terminology. Yet I feel rather bad about it.

Nothing profound here, just a ramble.

Quickest update

I quit my hateful job. As some of you know, I have -- HAD! -- a hateful co-worker, one who was very toxic to my well-being. Most recently, she has also been engaging in practices that range from questionable to potentially fraudulent. Don't worry, my ex-boss is investigating. But I can't stand it any more and I am free, free, broke, free. I'm job hunting now, and learning real estate basics so I am employable in my family's industry just in case my maybe-boss decides she can afford me after all.

I have rediscovered, with delighted passion, that I have a kitchen. It's been a week of experimentation. Homemade clotted cream (which will kill you, but you'll die happy) and blueberry scones. Mushroom and leek risotto. Sourdough apple cinnamon pancakes and sourdough-crust pizza. Yeah, all of it carbs and fats, what of it? :)

I plan to spend the afternoon in the lab, monkeying with iris and vanilla, after my farewell luncheon and meeting-with-the-boss-to-discuss-the-investigation at work. The offending person won't be attending: she informed a friend of mine in the office that her husband has a doctor's appointment and her first duty is to him and besides, it's her day off, and what does she expect her to tell her? Hee hee.

Also, this article on phantosmia is fascinating. I do get it -- phantom cigarette smoke, ammonia, alcohol, or bleachy smells -- but only when my true sense of smell is suppressed by an infection or flu (plus a few days.) Thank goodness I found out nasal zinc sprays can cause permanent anosmia... otherwise who knows what feasts of vile phantom scents my brain would come up with?

Busy, busy

I know I do a lot of "busy, busy" posts but... I am!

Hmm, what's going on in my life. We've begun trying progesterone to increase our odds of keeping a pregnancy. Nothing conclusive, but I do notice effects so I am hopeful. For instance, it makes me sleeeeeeep.

We discovered Facebook but I don't get much of a chance to play on it. Pat does, and it's great.

We've transported a whole lot of critters. This weekend we transported a juvenile barn owl that didn't make it -- and I am heartbroken, as it was a pretty baby that didn't deserve to die. But this happens a lot and what we do is provide a better chance, not a certainty. We also transported a juvenile black-crowned night heron -- a gorgeous bird and the most aggressive/terrified we've had to capture. It wedged itself into a tiny space between two fences and had to be scared out from the neighbor's backyard with a rake, then caught in a blanket. Poooooooor heron, wish it luck.

We went to the fair for the first time in about oh, well, over 15 years. It was fun and a little silly.

I had bronchitis that took all energy and motivation out of me for just over 2 weeks. I still have a cough, but the doctor says no sign of pneumonia. I'll keep an eye on it. And this of course heavily interrupted our exercise routine, so I am hankering to get out and walk!!!

Developments at work have made it very unpleasant and I am searching. Let me know if you know of anything. The college job didn't pan out for Pat (boo hoo) but of course we have options. The sad part is that the job here didn't pan out for me because the maybe-future-boss bit off more than she could chew and is waiting 6 months... but I am a limited time offer, which will expire if I find something else first.

Um, that's about it... what's new for you?

Red, White & Blue

'K, my toenail paint is KIND of red, and the bruise is KIND of blue, and I'm certainly pasty "white"... and it's a striped bruise and I definitely saw stars...

I dropped the manhole-sized solid-plastic sharp-edged lid from my duck food bin on my toe on Monday. The beauty of the situation is that I had shoes on because I have a nasty cold and hence didn't want to get onto the cold concrete in bare feet -- which I do almost every other day of the year, rain, shine, cold or warm. If I hadn't had shoes on, I might have broken the toe.

Note: My shoe really DOES fit, I just had it on loose and slouched my foot down in it. Leave me alone, it's casual Thursday (meaning, I have to wear some form of uniform, unlike other days -- today Red White & Blue to the extent I could contrive it with my clothes, which is kinda halfassed. We have tomorrow off.)

OMG, who remembers this?

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I am not dead

At the beginning of June, we went on vacation, which was nice - camped a few days in the BEAUTIFUL (but mosquito-infested) Big Basin Redwood campground, which was delightful. I'll post about it later when I am at the computer with the pictures on it. There are only a few pix and they're not so great, because the shade of the big trees and the iffy weather combined to make it dark-dark-dark! Still, you have to see.

When we got back, I went to get a 2nd opinion on my RE's advice because it didn't seem to make sense to spend $1000/month for a max 25% chance of getting pregnant (not far off our own odds at home) without doing anything to better the chances of a pregnancy's survival. So, good news! The 2nd opinion was, "WHAT? Why would you want to do that? You have no problem getting pregnant." And "Are you on progesterone? Why not?" Since I have asked about progesterone and my sorta-short luteal phase about 12 times and been ignored by my RE (yes, the one who calls me milady... I think patronizing and patronizing go hand in hand), I jumped at this. After verifying that there is no reason it ought to kill me with my normal ob/gyn, I accepted a prescription.

Rest assured there are no two words that can turn any adult male into a 12-year-old male quicker than "v*ginal capsules." Not only was my darling partner a whooping adolescent full of hysterical hilarity for 2 days, it repeats itself every time he thinks about it, sees the pill bottle, or -- horrors -- observes that it is time for my medicine. Oh well. I'm not sending him after my prescriptions any more.

I have all the typical progesterone symptoms: happy/sad moodiness, sleepiness, headache. I have been sleepin' a lot.

All kinds of work drama, but I don't want to think about it so I don't want to write about it either. There is hope on the horizon. Two offices are merging, and one of them is my mom's. The other party in this merger needs an assistant and wants me to be it. I may make a transition soon. It's nice, because I can say "mom needs me" instead of "I hate the drama" when I go. Yay.

Also, Pat has an interview for a tenure-track position at a community college in a ritzy part of the state. He goes to the first interview on the 6th. Please keep your fingers crossed -- it starts at well above twice my salary, and his experience may elevate that starter level. If it works out, we can afford for me not to work if we get lucky and have a critter.

Still love you guys, and I am still alive. Like GLaDOS.

Aaaaaaaaaaaargh!

The horror. The horror.

Puts new meaning into "unnecessary shit for your house."