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not so fun acronyms AKA what's sort of been going on
Many many good things happened this year.... I got flown to Maui and went to Thailand (I can now check riding elephant off of my bucket list). I got a real editing job and will eventually get paid for it. I saw The Dead. I celebrated kitten season, got goldfishes, and maybe best of all I've found a boyfriend, someone to call silly pet names and snuggle with on the couch. I sort of thought that would never happen, that I was doomed to only connect with the unavailable or the inconveniently located. So that's all great. But that's not what's keeping me up at four in the morning...and, well, Santa's not what's keeping me up either, all though I desperately wish it was :) Right now TOS is keeping me up. Now the geeks I know are probably all going awes yeeeeah, Sho's up late watching Star Trek the Original Series, and then they're probably thinking 'well, what else is new?' But that's (unfortunately) not what's keeping me awake either. TOS also stands for Thoracic Outlet Syndrome. It hurts...a lot...and, I have it. I got diagnosed a few months ago, and aside from being a pain in the shoulder it is also the driving force of a ludicrously complicated L&I saga that has me set up with a lawyer and facing what everyone says will be a long and unpleasant battle to get the surgery that my doctor says I need.
The story of my lost job and the struggle I had working there don't bear posting on the internet; I think real company and a nice single malt scotch would better help bear that topic. But I will note that my doctor, the one filing my claim and calling for surgery, is one of the doctor's that I worked for, and I'll add that I have the great pleasure of going into the office I used to work in as a patient...and all the staff know that my employment was terminated. Leave it to me develop TOS while working in the only clinic in the Pacific NW with a surgeon who will see L&I TOS patients. I think the writers penning the story of my life want a raise...or maybe better benefits. Anyway, the doctor says it will probably be two years before the surgery gets authorized, and because even something as basic as typing flairs symptoms (you all would not believe how slowly I'm typing this incidentally) it's not looking as though I can work in the interim. It's ridiculous the sorts of silly things that flair it up, and I'm struggling to be good about not doing things I shouldn't. When symptoms flair it feels as though invisible claws and clenching my shoulder and neck, and even the shy movement of a shallow breath sends unpleasant ripples down my arm. My hand tingles as if it's fallen asleep, and the outer fingers feel cold and off--as though they aren't moving properly.
Most of you have seen my bruises from silly falls or heard me winge about hangnails or splinters. I'm a wuss about pain and wiggle with worry before pulling off a band-aide. But I try to do it with panache. I usually make a story out of it, try to make it entertaining...but I don't usually make much of a secret of my bumps and scratches. I don't know why I didn't want to share this, but I've been relatively reticent. And, I've accordingly been distant. Maybe I feel that there's been too much drama, and I didn't want to admit to more. Maybe I wanted to ignore it. Maybe I'm embarrassed. I really don't know. But it's hard to smile when it hurts, and it's so exhausting being in pain...I found myself wearing out and leaving parties and events early because of it, and lately I've found myself not even going. My social life has dwindled, and while much of my downtime comes with the domestic company of my vey lovely boyfriend, I feel disconnected. I've been back from Thailand for two months, and I still have a bag full of presents I got for folks.
Some days are fine. Some days I almost forget to feel anxious. Other days, particularly when I'm leaning against a pillow wishing sleep would come and blot out the pain squeezing at the nerves in my shoulder and clenching at my neck, I feel overwhelming panic that the mess of L&I will remain a mess, that I won't get the surgery, or that the surgery won't work (and mind you, working could just mean that the symptoms get 50% better), that I'll go crazy with boredom not working, that the pain will never go away, that my boyfriend will be turned off to me by my lack of strength dealing with all of this, that I'll end up disabled without income from disability and be left with no option but to move into my parent's basement in North Carolina and will lose all of my sparkle. Then the ‘what ifs’ start pinging my brain, and I feel that it's all just too much. I couldn't even decorate the Christmas tree--my very first Christmas tree, and I was so excited about it--without fading and ending the night dead-eyed and holding my shoulder as I leaned against the arm of the couch. But that's the kind of woe that makes me feel like less than charming company.
At any rate...my intention with this note wasn't to winge or vent, although that seems to have snuck into my writing. To be honest, my hope is that some of you wonderful shining people will do me a favor and help keep me from falling into hole and disappearing into the safe boredom of television. I miss you all... I have a lawyer and a doctor, but I need my friends too. I can't promise that I can muster the energy to party like a rock star, but I would be beyond grateful if some of you could help drag me out of the house or stop by to play with kitties and offer some company.
And to end on a good note... I was a Christmas tree for Santacon last night, and my secret wish to be surronded by people singing "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree" was fulfilled when a bunch of cute girls dressed as elves did just that. They had giant candycanes, and it was awesome.
The story of my lost job and the struggle I had working there don't bear posting on the internet; I think real company and a nice single malt scotch would better help bear that topic. But I will note that my doctor, the one filing my claim and calling for surgery, is one of the doctor's that I worked for, and I'll add that I have the great pleasure of going into the office I used to work in as a patient...and all the staff know that my employment was terminated. Leave it to me develop TOS while working in the only clinic in the Pacific NW with a surgeon who will see L&I TOS patients. I think the writers penning the story of my life want a raise...or maybe better benefits. Anyway, the doctor says it will probably be two years before the surgery gets authorized, and because even something as basic as typing flairs symptoms (you all would not believe how slowly I'm typing this incidentally) it's not looking as though I can work in the interim. It's ridiculous the sorts of silly things that flair it up, and I'm struggling to be good about not doing things I shouldn't. When symptoms flair it feels as though invisible claws and clenching my shoulder and neck, and even the shy movement of a shallow breath sends unpleasant ripples down my arm. My hand tingles as if it's fallen asleep, and the outer fingers feel cold and off--as though they aren't moving properly.
Most of you have seen my bruises from silly falls or heard me winge about hangnails or splinters. I'm a wuss about pain and wiggle with worry before pulling off a band-aide. But I try to do it with panache. I usually make a story out of it, try to make it entertaining...but I don't usually make much of a secret of my bumps and scratches. I don't know why I didn't want to share this, but I've been relatively reticent. And, I've accordingly been distant. Maybe I feel that there's been too much drama, and I didn't want to admit to more. Maybe I wanted to ignore it. Maybe I'm embarrassed. I really don't know. But it's hard to smile when it hurts, and it's so exhausting being in pain...I found myself wearing out and leaving parties and events early because of it, and lately I've found myself not even going. My social life has dwindled, and while much of my downtime comes with the domestic company of my vey lovely boyfriend, I feel disconnected. I've been back from Thailand for two months, and I still have a bag full of presents I got for folks.
Some days are fine. Some days I almost forget to feel anxious. Other days, particularly when I'm leaning against a pillow wishing sleep would come and blot out the pain squeezing at the nerves in my shoulder and clenching at my neck, I feel overwhelming panic that the mess of L&I will remain a mess, that I won't get the surgery, or that the surgery won't work (and mind you, working could just mean that the symptoms get 50% better), that I'll go crazy with boredom not working, that the pain will never go away, that my boyfriend will be turned off to me by my lack of strength dealing with all of this, that I'll end up disabled without income from disability and be left with no option but to move into my parent's basement in North Carolina and will lose all of my sparkle. Then the ‘what ifs’ start pinging my brain, and I feel that it's all just too much. I couldn't even decorate the Christmas tree--my very first Christmas tree, and I was so excited about it--without fading and ending the night dead-eyed and holding my shoulder as I leaned against the arm of the couch. But that's the kind of woe that makes me feel like less than charming company.
At any rate...my intention with this note wasn't to winge or vent, although that seems to have snuck into my writing. To be honest, my hope is that some of you wonderful shining people will do me a favor and help keep me from falling into hole and disappearing into the safe boredom of television. I miss you all... I have a lawyer and a doctor, but I need my friends too. I can't promise that I can muster the energy to party like a rock star, but I would be beyond grateful if some of you could help drag me out of the house or stop by to play with kitties and offer some company.
And to end on a good note... I was a Christmas tree for Santacon last night, and my secret wish to be surronded by people singing "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree" was fulfilled when a bunch of cute girls dressed as elves did just that. They had giant candycanes, and it was awesome.
sad
5 (17.9%)
