The Blog of elwing

 Took Deucalion rattie to the vet today... It was only a $20 visit... The vet says my boy does have cancer, and that he does have spinal nerve root degeneration, but... That Deu is still lively, still eating and drinking, still a good fuzzy boy, and that I shouldn't worry too much until, or unless he gets lethargic, stops eating, or stops drinking. Right now, he said I was doing the best thing I could do, making him comfortable, cuddling him, and putting neosporin on his abscesses when he gets them. So... Deu will be sticking around for a while longer, I hope and pray... 

From petrats.org -

 
Abscesses

Abscesses are a common occurrence in rats and most abscesses on the body will open and drain on their own. Males are particularly prone to abscesses in the groin. Abscesses on the face can be much more serious. An abscess on the face or under the ear that does not quickly heal after being drained is most likely caused by a skin cancer such as squamous cell carcinoma.

 
Spinal Nerve Root Degeneration

This is a common problem in older rats. The back legs get progressively weaker and weaker over a period of weeks or months. A more sudden paralysis will usually be caused by an injury, a stroke, a blood clot in the spinal cord, or a pituitary or brain tumor that has hemorrhaged. The cause of the spinal nerve root degeneration is unknown, but supplementation with liquid B vitamins will slow the progression of the paralysis, especially when started early. Give enough of a liquid B complex to supply 5 mcg of B12 once or twice a day.

Deucalion has a vet visit today... And very likely, the result will be that he won't be coming home. I'm scared... And sad. And just all 'round upset. Luckily, my fiance's unemployment check came in, and so he had $ to go to work, and some leftover to give me for emergencies.

I'm scared. I've never had to put such a beloved pet to sleep, and I'm scared of how I'll react. 

 Its all my fault. All of it. The fact that we're going to have to move, because I wanted a damned dog. Even though its the landlord who's gone back on his word, if I hadn't wanted a fucking dog, this wouldn't have happened. 

Deucalion has another abscess, and this time, his ear is draining as well. I'm doing my very best to take care of him right now, and freaking out because I know, I FUCKING KNOW its all in vain. He's going to die, and likely, soon. No matter what I do, he's just old, and there's nothing I can do that'll make him stay a day longer than God means him to, and it scares me to death and tears me up inside every time I look at him. He doesn't act like he's in pain. He doesn't hide away all day, he doesn't freak out when I touch it (much), and he's still my sweet cuddly boy, but... Its coming, and I don't want it to.

I dunno if Jackson can sense the tension, or if he's just got some other issues going on right now, but damnit, if he doesn't start GOING OUTSIDE, I'm going to be the one who takes him directly back to his previous owner. I cannot and will not have a dog making THAT KIND OF MESSES IN MY HOUSE.

I want to move. We want to move. We need to move. Number one, the landlord has been in our house, more than once, illegally, when we are not here and when we have *NOT* given him permission to be. Number two, I cannot stand how he's always knocking on the door and trying to worm his way into the house with one excuse or another. Last time, it was to change the furnace filter. HE HAS NEVER ONCE OFFERED TO DO THIS BEFORE, IN THE YEAR AND A HALF WE'VE LIVED HERE. Number three, I can't trust someone who invades my home, and I can't trust someone who goes back on his word, knows he is, aknowledges that he is, and DOES NOT CARE.

Yes, I am freaking out right now. Tonight has not been a good night at all, and I'm sick and tired of all this crap. As soon as we can, we are FREAKING OUT OF HERE. That's all there is to it. Mom, if you read this, and if you can or if you want to, I'm begging for a bit of help here. I don't know what to do... I've been looking up appartment, rental, and real estate listings... But the Good Lord knows that right now we can't afford the down payment, even on a manufactured home. There are some listings for $1000 down payment, $600 (or so) a month payment manufactured homes, but until we can get a downpayment and money to move saved up, we're screwed. How the hell are we going to save up $3000-$4000 in a month or less (Depending on when/if the landlord decides to evict us, because he's got heartburn that day. -.- If he doesn't evict us, we may have longer.) and then get all our stuff out there, back home? We've got *NICE* furnature for once. Expensive, beautiful stuff. (Granted, the couches really show that we've got a preschooler in the house, but that's to be expected, I guess.) The fifty gallon aquarium that Josh just *had* to have... Deucalion, Inqui, Jackson... Josh's mom's rocking chair. Vince's bed, shelves, toys. The TV stand, the movie shelves, the book shelves... The stone dining room table Josh bought because *I* wanted it, soooo badly! The coffee table that I picked out. We've worked hard to get where we are right now, and this whole thing is threatening to ruin us. Between Josh not having a job until recently (he starts Monday), and the dog... 

Its all my fault. I'm a horrible, terrible person, because I wanted something. I screw everything around me up. I'm horrible to be around, I'm bitchy and insane. Every time I think I've taken some significant steps foreward, SOMETHING happens, and I loose it all. I'm selfish. 

The most insane, horrifying part of all of this?

If I'm not those things, I'm not me. I don't want not to be me, but if I can't keep anything good, if I can't make anything good happen, and if I'm such a horrible person, then why don't I just stop being me and start being what it seems the world wants me to be? How do I do that? I'm so lost, so scared! 

... And so emo. I sound like a distraught teenager, and I don't really care. This blog is meant for this kind of bullshit, and oooh, I'm oozing it tonight. 

I had a few bad thoughts tonight. I've had a few, over the last few months, and basically all of my semi-adult to adult life, but never quite this compelling. I'm on my meds, goddamnit! What the fuck is wrong with me?! I thought they were supposed to help me not be like this. They did really, really well, up until this whole thing with the landlord, too! I had thoughts like, wondering if I could take apart a disposable razor without cutting my fingers so I could cut other places. Not that I ever would, mind you, I've got too much to loose. I already nearly lost my son once, and that is NEVER going to happen again, even if I have to die trying to keep him. Then, I was crying in the kitchen and found myself imagining what would happen if I took every pill I found in the medicine basket. Again, not that I ever would, oh, God, no. I wouldn't! The fact that I'm telling you all about it is proof, basically. (You tell someone, it means you want someone to stop you.) I don't want to do it, not really, and I wouldn't. I couldn't. I don't think I've got the balls for something like that, but ooh, I'm so freaking out over this whole thing. 

Why does everything I touch fall apart? 

 I'm selfish, impatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control, and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best. 

Marilyn Monroe

 I'm going to turn in a job application today... And I'm scared. I haven't actually worked for over a year... My fiance has been out of work for about three weeks now, and our bills have whittled what little money we did have away. Our last two hundred bucks (or most of it) is going towards kiddo's school bill... 

I'm scared. 

My dad says he'll help by paying for my meds if we need that help... But what about me and kiddo's medical bills? Rent? Electricity? Gas?

Something's wonky with the unemployment system, and my fiance is having extreme troubles just getting on unemployment. All three of us (my fiance, my roomie, and I) have been searching for jobs. With the little job skills I have, its nearly impossible to get a job much of anywhere... Which is the exact opposite of the type of thing that's going on with my fiance. I mean, I can and I have slung hamburgers, but... I am not the sort of speedy person that's particularly able to keep up with fast food. The short two weeks I worked at Burger King in Nebraska, I nearly killed myself running around everywhere like a chicken with its head cut off. If I was at home, I'd be begging my mom for my old job at her resturaunt back. But I'm not at home, we're a state away and I've got to figure out how to help deal with this myself. I'm a big girl... 

But I'm so scared! I'm applying for a desk job at a motel, and its only part time, but if my roomie and fiance both get jobs here in town and work during the day, while I work evenings (which is what the ap was for) then I won't need to hire a babysitter... But that's a lot of iffy stuff.

I'm going to take pictures with one of our old digital cameras... Though they won't be the best quality, I'm going to get pics of my handmade jewelry and get it all put up on Ebay. I have no choice now. I can't wait for us to be able to afford a decent digital camera. I'm crossing my fingers and hoping and praying right now. 

To top it all off, our landlord is pulling this crap about Jackson, the dog... It really infuriates me, and I'm *NOT* getting rid of Jackson. He's a member of our family now, just as much as Inqui  (my cat) is. He has no right to go back on his word, and after everything else that's gone on, I can no longer trust our landlord. Things like coming into the house when we're not home, without any notice whatsoever. I'm not going to put up with it any more. As soon as possible, we are OUT OF HERE. Which means we're really gonna hafta fucking bite the bullet. Things are going to have to change... 

Change is scary. 

Help?

 A few months ago, our landlord finally said yes, we could get a small dog. 

Yesterday, the landlord showed up to do some work on the property, saw the dog, and told us to get rid of it. This morning, I talked to him again, and I told him that he'd already agreed to it. He says he doesn't remember, and that I can't keep my dog if I want to live here in this house.

Finally, when I thought things were coming together, my life was going more smoothly than it has my entire adult life... And now this. I'm on the meds I need to function as a normal person. I'm pondering a part time job. I'm dealing well with motherhood, pets, and housework. My fiance's doing well, though in between jobs at the moment. He's taken our roomie under his wing as a green industrial electrician's apprentice. Life was going good!

I know a dog doesn't make or break 'my life', but damnit. I'm not giving him up. Not now. Not after the landlord had said yes, and not after working so hard to get to where I am now. I love Jackson, and I'm not about to let that senile old oaf go back on his word. This isn't fair. So... My fiance and I are currently exploring our options as far as this issue is concerned. 

I haven't cried. But I'm so furious I'm shaking right now, and I'm scared. I don't know what to do, other than start looking for other places to move to. This really, REALLY isn't fair to us at all. I need some help right now, some reassurance, some guidance, and I highly doubt I'm going to get much. There's nothing writen, on paper, about the dog, so its our word against his... And I'm not prepared to fight this in court. That's just dumb, anyway. But Jackson is now a part of this family, and I'm going to do what I have to to keep us all together. 

Jackson has had a few accidents, but that's to be expected in a new environment. All have been cleaned up, all has been forgiven. He, Inqui, my fiance, my cat, and sometimes my kiddo all sleep in the same bed with me at night. Jackson helps keep me on schedule, because when he goes out for his first potty break, I remember to take my meds. When its time to feed him breakfast, I first feed kiddo, then myself... Then the cat, and then Jackson. Every meal is like that. Because of Jackson's schedule, I'm forced into a more rigid schedule, myself, which helps not only me, but kiddo. 

What the hell am I gonna do?

A bleak existence...

Locked in stone for all of time,
ever watching, ever waiting in silence;
the robust creature waits for its
moment in time...

 
It waits to be needed, to breathe.
Stone hearted, forever dead, it waits...
To live.  

It stands alone, waiting to protect. (Erin Leigh - 10/26/08)    

Yeah... I got a bit depressed, kinda bored. But I think this one's actually pretty good.        

 Yeah, you know who you are! Of course, the fact that you've got very little butt in the first place kinda made it more of a 'searching pat', but still. :D Figured I'd better do it now, while you're single, and I had my fiance's permission! Hehe. He actually thought it was pretty funny...

Man, do I wish I knew *exactly* what you thought about that. Knowing you, though, you're just going to smile when you read this, shake your head, not say a word and continue on as if nothing had happened. :P 

Boys are so silly.

The family reunion... Was different, I guess. I felt detached the whole time, like for some reason I wasn't a part of it anymore. Guess that's just me and my weird 'mentality' at the moment. I dunno. I don't wanna grow up, 'cause I'm a Toys-R-Us kid. There's lots of toys at Toys-R-Us that I can play with!

I had an odd dream the other night... I dreamed that my fiance and I had gone to my great grandma's house to check on her... Only, we couldn't find her. In 'her' seat at her dining table, there was a large bowl full of what appeared to be corned beef, and these huge, squirming maggots. I remember sorta 'focusing' more on the maggots, in the dream, than the fact that we had to find great grandma, like they had something to do with her dissapearance. I think part of my subconcious is desperately trying to tell me something.

My fiance, roomie, and I all ate a LOT of horrible Chinese food this evening. Well, it wasn't bad, really. It was just at this dumpy little place in our hometown. I haven't eaten that much in AGES. Oh, god. I ate so much it was difficult to turn the steering wheel of my car without thinking I was 'sloshing' my tummy around too much and I was gonna throw up. I don't think it would have been so bad, but I think my stomach has actually been 'shrinking' a bit, or something, now that I'm on lexapro and I don't eat anywhere near as much. But, it was one night full of crab rangoons, egg rolls, fried rice, chicken chow mein, and sweet fried rice balls with sesame seeds. Just thinking about it, I feel full again! Ugh!

Well, Jackson (My dog) and I have officially become 'joined', I guess. Whenever I go for a ride/drive in the car, so does he. Wherever I go (inside the house), save for the basement, he follows. Inqui (my cat) and Jackson both sleep with me... :D Lots of mornings, I wake up with kiddo, cat, and dog all curled up with me in bed. Its positively wonderful! 

 Had him in the rat ball last night, running around, just as happy as you please and looking healthy and energetic... 

But I went to feed him this morning, and he was just... Dead. I don't know why, or how, or anything... I'm going to miss that hermitish, grumpy, boogerbutt of a rat. Ichabod, wherever you went, you're healthy and happy there, I know. I'll see you again, someday. 

Jackson had another accident today... But again, it was something really easy to clean up. I think its just my own fault for realizing he needs to go out too late. 

I'm tired... 

 I'm scared. The eighteenth I'm going to go to a family reunion... 

There's more than one reason I'm scared. First off, I'll be driving for approximately six hours... The trip from my place, to my hometown is a trip I've never taken by myself. I have a really really bad sense of direction, I get lost really easily. 

Secondly... My great grandma on my dad's side isn't doing so well. I'm terrified that this is the last family reunion/great grandma's birthday party she'll actually be there for. I don't know her very well, and I can't help feeling like I've somehow 'let' what happened with my grandmother on my mom's side happen again. When grandma Owen got sick, I kept thinking to myself that I didn't know her well enough for this to happen, that I'd done something wrong by not being closer to her. One evening, after a highschool vocal program, she'd told me that I had the prettiest voice out of all the girls. She's the only person I've ever believed at their word. I don't know why I believed her... But I did. I promised myself I'd go sing to her before she passed away, when she kept getting worse and worse... And I didn't. I've never forgiven myself for that.

And now, my great grandmother is confined to a wheelchair. She's recently had a blood clot in her arm removed... She's in her nintees, and I feel like the worst person in the world because I don't know her very well. How idiotically selfish is that? Really?

My grandmother (on my dad's side, again... My great grandma's daughter) recently had a stroke, as well. I can remember a time when I thought that the family reunion every year was the way it would be always and forever. That no matter what, we'd all get together at the same time of year, have lots and lots of food, trade stories, play games, visit with relatives we didn't get to see any other time of year. I still marvel at the strength my grandma Linda must have, raising five boys and dealing with my mumbling, bumbling grandpa. 

Great Grandma's flaming red hair was always coiffed and dyed... She can't do it anymore. Grandma Linda's hair up in curlers once a week. I feel really juvinile about this, really desperate for the first time since starting my meds. The people I love aren't supposed to die. They aren't supposed to crumble right in front of me. I don't know what to do.

*Sigh*

In other news, Jackson (my new dog) had his first accident early this morning. If I had caught him in the act, I would have punished him, but I didn't find it until after the fact... It was easy enough to clean up, luckily, but I'll be watching him closer from now on, especially early in the morning. (That's one of the first things we do in the morning. I get up, grab a glass of water and my pill, and let Jackson out the front door to do his business.)

Also, I've found out that if I mix canned dog food in with Jackson's dried dog food, then he'll eat it. :D I was so worried for a while, because he wouldn't eat. But, at least I've figured out how to get him to eat, LOL. I think my cat's finally accepted that Jackson isn't going to eat her or steal her away from me, too. The past two mornings, I've woken up feeling like a queen, with the cat, kiddo, and Jackson all snuggled up around me. Its wonderful! 

 Lawdy, have I been gone a long time... Please, don't hate me right off. Give me a chance to explain the 'goings on' of the last few weeks... 

I started taking Lexapro.

One week later, and I'm cool as a cucumber, cleaning the house regularly, with a vengeance... Exhausting myself by bedtime...

Week two, and a night or two that week, I had insomnia and couldn't sleep. Still uber cleaning, still determined to get it all done and keep up with it... Still cool as a cucumber.

Week three, and I've got most of my big cleaning projects done... And I'm actually KEEPING UP with all of my housework! AMAZING! (Can I get a little applause here?!) My fiance CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

Week four, and my fiance is back home for the weekend... My dad's here, my roomie's here... And though I'm keeping up with the housework and making everyone's meals, and dealing rather well with the hullaballoo, I almost freak out, because I feel overwhelmed and overcrowded.

Week five (This week) and I've found the perfect dog... Me and his current owner chitchat, get close... And my fiance tells me I can get the dog! OMG! OMG! EXCITEMENT!

I picked him up today! He's three years old... His name is Jackson, and he's a Pekenese. He's absolutely adorable! Kiddo positively LOVES him, though the cat isn't any too happy... And we're settling in for the night as we speak, trying to get calmed down and relaxed. 

Please, please, forgive me for being away for so long. Part of me has honestly felt that, since I no longer have such extreme emotional 'situations', I no longer have anything interesting to write about... And another part of me sort of finds it difficult just to sit down long enough to write something out every day or two. But... As with the cleaning, and the new dog, I am determined to keep up with everything. For once, I feel like I have the power and ability to control my emotions, and therefore, control my immediate environment. 

Though, I do need someone to kick me in the ass... Because... Well, being on the meds has made it easier to break bad habits and form newer, better ones... But at the same time, its made it easier to 'form' or further other bad habits. It used to be that now and again, in a social situation, I'd have a cigarette. Not often. A pack would last me a good six months or more, kept in the freezer. Now... I go through a pack a week. I get bored more easily now, and instead of reaching for a snack, for some reason I now reach for cigarettes. I know I should stop, but I'd be lying if I said I wanted to stop right now. -.- 

 A face. 

This orchestra conductor is leading some  little 'neighborhood' orchestral band... Nothing major, but this sort of thing could help his career. It'll look good on his resume', you know? 

Things are going great, he's just a-swayin' and bouncing along as he conducts... But... The oboe player misses a beat, misses a note. In short, the oboe player screws up. The poor conductor! That darned oboe player has RUINED his big night! So, what does the conductor do? He hops right down of his platform and stabs the oboe player to death with his baton!

Of course,  murder in a public place in front of an audience doesn't go un-noticed, and the conductor is jailed and tried for murder. He's sentenced to death by electrocution in the electric chair. When his time comes, the warden asks him if he's got any last requests before he's put to death...

"Why, yes. I'd like a banana before I go..." Of course, seeing nothing wrong with such a request, the warden complies, and the conductor decadently and ever so sloooowly peels his banana... And then eats it, reveling in the taste and obviously enjoying himself. 

Once his 'snack' is finished, the conductor is led to the electric chair and strapped in. The warden goes through all his hullaballoo, and then... They flip the switch. 

Absolutely nothing happens. They can't try him again, and they can't flip the switch again... They can't punish him twice for one single crime. So, they've got to set him free. Off the conductor goes, thinking he's the luckiest man alive.

A few months down the road and he's back in the swing of things, rebuilding his career and now he's conducting the Philharmonic... The most important night of his life. Oh, he's enjoying himself. He practically sparkles, beaming and energetically conducting the symphony full of players; its all going so very very well. What a grand night!

But... Something happened. Yet again, the oboe player screws up. You'd think, after he killed the first guy, that an oboe player would be more careful... But, NO! Oh, no! Livid, the conductor leaps from his stand and stabs the guy to death with his baton.

Again, he's tried... And again, he's sentenced to the electric chair. When the time comes, the warden again asks him what his last request will be... And again, the conductor requests a banana. 

Sensually and slowly, the conductor peels and eats his banana, careful to enjoy every last second... But this time, the warden gets a confused look on his face as he watches. There's got to be something going on that the warden can't see, so he asks... "Mr. Conductor... How is it that you survived being electrocuted last time? Does it have to do with the banana you requested then, and again this time?"

The conductor swallows his last bite of banana, moaning delightfully. He licks his lips, rubbing his hands on his thighs as he chooses his words. "No... I'm just a bad conductor."

I have big fucking pendulous balls of motherhood and I am NOT afraid to go swinging them 'round for my kiddo's sake.

Now... Let me tell you the story behind this little quote.

Kiddo was at his father's for the weekend, which is awesome as heck. Not only did kiddo get to visit him, but, ol' dad finally forked over some $ as far as 'child support' is concerned. I now have a check with which I can pay half of kiddo's monthly school dues. :D

But, we had an awesome day, after we picked up kiddo today. We went to the pet store, kiddo got to pet some kittens... Then we went shopping and he got a halloween mylar balloon. :D We ate at Burger King, and he got a REALLY COOL toy that he seems to really love. Then, we came home and relaxed for a bit, ate some ice cream, and I got him ready for a bath. As I undressed him, though, I noticed something on his hip. A quarter sized, angry red 'bump' that might've appeared to be a bug bite... If it hadn't had a head. Oh, my lord, my four year old had an infected hair or something that turned into a cyst. Yes. A CYST. On his HIP. That apparently my ex didn't realize was there, or just conviniently decided NOT to tell me about.

Oh, no. Kiddo didn't want me to touch it AT ALL. Of course not! It hurts! My roomie had to pin him down so I could get a very good look at it, be sure of what my immediate course of action should be. It had a head, was squishy yet hard, was ANGRY, FIREY red, and was warm to the touch. Right now, we don't have the money for an emergency room visit, and because my ex hasn't got kiddo on his health insurance, (and because I don't work) we do not qualify for Medicade where we live. Therefore, I had to make an emergency, immediate decision as to what I was going to do. This wasn't something lifethreatening, but it was something that I knew would cause my son pain, and was causing him pain. So... I decided to lance the thing myself, drain it, and watch it. If he developes a fever or any more pain, I'll take him to the doctor immediately.

So, I wrapped him up in a blanket, and my roomie helped me hold him down while I sterilized a needle (with alcohol) and lanced, then squeezed the cyst until all that came out was a little blood. Oh, god, poor kiddo. I know it hurt him a great deal, but I also know that it was necessary. I honestly can't help still feeling like a horrible, terrible mother though, for putting kiddo through that. But a doctor really wouldn't have done anything differently.

Once all was said and done, I even made a phone call to my ex. He appologized, but by now its a moot point. He needs to keep a better eye on kiddo. The ex told me that kiddo 'told me not to touch it'. OF COURSE HE DID. IT FUCKING HURT LIKE HELL! That would have been MY first indication that something was WRONG. Then there was, 'It was only the size of a dime last time we looked at it.' I don't care what size it was. If it was causing him pain, YOU GOTTA TAKE A LOOK AT IT to make SURE its not something SERIOUS. Oh, my god.

If you want to argue with what I did and tell me that I screwed up, fine. Whatever. Just remember, that I know my current situation better than you do and I do in fact realize that I did what I had to, for my son. But at the same time, also realize that yes, I do feel horrible any time I have to put my son through pain like that. I am now the 'bad guy', and no matter what I tell my son, he's not going to remember that I had to do that to help him. He's going to remember that I made it HURT A LOT. I *really* hate having to be put in that sort of situation. But, goddamnit.

I am a responsible mother who has the testicular fortitude to do what's best for my son instead of paying someone else to do it for me.

AND

I have big fucking pendulous balls of motherhood and I am NOT afraid to go swinging them 'round for my kiddo's sake.

As most of you know, recently, I've started back on my antidepressants... I've been on them a week and a half, and I'm still trying to get used to the me that I apparently am, and didn't realize it. I'm calm, cool and collected. I don't get upset at the drop of a hat. I want to get up and get something done. My house is almost spotless right now.

Its like... For most of my life, I was away on vacation. I mean, I'd call in now and again to make sure everything was OK, but for the most part, my depression was housesitting. Now that I'm back, its like all the furniture has been moved around, so I'm trying to get re used to my 'house' (My body and emotions), though its all the same things I know and remember. They're just in different places.

Does that even make sense?

In situations where I should freak out, or normally would, I'm calm and collected. Cool as a cucumber, not outwardly unsettled. When something *does* upset me, it doesn't wreck my entire day. Part of me honestly does worry though, haha. Now that I'm not depressed, not so easily upset about things, will I have much to write about? :P

My roommate said something about how, now, its like my 'laugh box' has been fixed. That part of me that knows when its OK and absolutely wonderful to laugh my ass off no longer seems to be busted. Which rocks, actually. :D

I sleep better. One of the side affects is supposedly not being able to sleep... Yeah. I can sleep. Dang, do I sleep good. 0.0 My head hits the pillow, and zonk. I'm out. There's no rememberances of tossing and turning, there's no waking up in the middle of the night when kiddo crawls into bed with me. Heck, I don't even wake up to pee in the middle of the night anymore! (And no, I don't wet the bed, LOL) Its easier to get up out of bed, its easier to get our daily schedule started up, and its easier to just be, now.

I got my test results back from the doctor... I won't give you exact numbers, 'cause that'd be boring and eeesh. But, my glucose, bun, creatinine, glomerular filtration rate, sodium, potassium, chloride, CO2, anion gap, calcium, total protein, albumin, AST, alkaline phosphatase, total bilirubin, and ALT are all normal. So are my triglyceride, cholesterol, HDL, LDL, Non-HDL cholesterol... Luteinizing Hormone is normal, as is my follicle stimulating hormone... Then there's my prolactin,sensitive TSH, and testosterone, which are all normal. So... Everything's normal. Now I just hafta figure out why the hell I'm not doing what 'normal'