So When Can I Expect Those Hallucinations?

I want to say one thing before I start this post and that is forgive me. Oh, and I don't want pity. THAT'S more important, the no pity part, but you are going to have to forgive me because I have had 6 hours of sleep since Wednesday.

I swear on Wallene's life that I have been awake for 83 out of the past 89 hours.

How weird is this?  My computer took a one second video of me.  This is what I look like. In one second. ::grin::

Yep. And this post isn't going to make a lick of sense.  But I don't really know what else to do or who to turn to, so I write. This post.

Pooldad, quiet little pup, is out of his mind with worry. The doctors give a raging sh*t about much of anything with me anymore [see? forgive me] I avoid the bastards most of the time because I don't, as a rule, like to whine. I reserve that specifically for my long suffering husband. You guys think I am saintlike in my ability to stay upbeat?  There is a place at the right hand of God for my husband. He is a SAINT to have to put up with me.... so if you feel the need to comment [and I love your comments y'know] say something nice to him. THAT will make me smile. Although I am near delirium at this point, so y'know there's a big a** goofy smile on my face. hee

Okay...where was I? Forgive me.

As I was saying I have had, cobbled together, a total of 6 hours of sleep since Wednesday night at 10 pm when I woke up from a nap.  I woke up from that nap in screaming pain - and well?  That didn't subside until yesterday.  And it only lessened because I broke down and took a drug with heinous side effects - one of which is INSOMNIA.

Sigh ::sound of Skippy's head banging against the wall::

Raise your hand if you know that I have suffered from insomnia for oh, how many years?  Two internet cookies to you if you have ever been a recipient of one of my mid morning emails. You guys know who you are ::wink:

I can't get an appointment with my Rhuemy and I just have to wait until my next scheduled appointment. I can't reach her on the phone, she's too busy I think. Or has too many patients or something. I know I should get a different one, and I have no right to b*tch about her because I won't look for a new Rhuemy, but I am fed up with trying to find doctors and then breaking them in to my particular situation.

[Get ready, I am sure you all can write the next sentence. I repeat this stuff enough] All told I have 4 conditions that have to be treated on a daily basis and one that cannot be treated until my number "comes up" [ahhhhh, the waiting game] but you try going in and explaining all this sh*t to a new doctor. They miss stuff and then it is up to you to catch it. Thank God for Pooldad because we may not be highly educated people, but he knows how to spot a bad interaction between meds a mile away.  Where a lot of husbands spend hours on sports sites or watching porn, my husband spends his time on the internet researching me. ::true love::  There are some meds that are so toxic to me that if I was to take them one time, that the process of going through my liver and kidneys would shut me down and I would be dead before we could get to the hospital.  THAT scares me, scares him - but doctors don't pay attention.  We try, we do - to tell them "Okay I have A, B and C with a side of D and we are waiting on a transplant for E" and what do they hear?  "Patient has life long anemia and doesn't appear to eat right. Too thin." Neither of which we mentioned on our health form. GET WITH THE PROGRAM. LOOK AT THE BIG THINGS. The very things that if you give me that particular pill will KILL ME.

Side note: Never, ever, ever go to a doctor's appointment by yourself if you can help it.  Call me, I'll go or line someone up for you.  It was the best advice I have ever been given.

Oh, wait - no sleep. How am I doing? How's this working out for y'all so far? [This is how out of it I am. I just typed the word "far" as "arf" and thought it looked good. It was not a key slip. I honestly thought arf said far.]

I have never been this wired on medication in my life and this isn't even a Class C opiate. It isn't an addictive, high like medication. It just happens to not agree with me and ::zap:: I am suddenly the Amazon Awake Woman of Sterling VA.  I am so NOT tired, I don't even yawn.

Stupid. My mental acuity is at about 45% [and that is being kind to myself] I wouldn't dare drive Oscarz, let alone go near the stove.  Hey, I did just paint my nails.  Pretty good job I must say. The only tell that I am beyond loopy is the fact I painted them blue.

Sky, sparkly, BLUE!

In case you have forgotten, I am 46. giggle Yah, blue doesn't quite scream "maturity" as much as "Justin Beiber", right? giggle

"And neither does the way you giggle insufferably through every post Skippy."  Yeah, heard that!

I finally, finally turned off everything, got undressed, crawled into bed and laid there last night. It took me three hours, but I fell asleep. No one came near me, hoping I would stay that way until sometime Sunday afternoon. Yeah, no such luck. 5 hours later I was wide awake and here I am. 5:40 pm waiting on the Super Bowl to start. A game I care nothing about, but hell, what am I going to do? Sleep? HA!

I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not. 6 hours of sleep in 89 hours. Woohoo - go me. It's boring, lonely and frustrating.  I hate TV, I hate the internet. I hate my house. I want to sleep or go do something.

Ah well, yet another post I am not hitting publish on.

But, but - I just read this one to my husband and he says go ahead and publish it.  He wants me to go to the hospital, but I refuse. Today.  But if I don't literally just pass out at sometime before midnight tonight I am going tomorrow.  There has to be something unnatural about the fact my body can do this. It isn't healthy, I damn sure know that.

So, as I said forgive me. Foremost for cursing through this.  It is specifically for emphasis purposes and what is running through my head [Hey - who knew my thoughts were so foul mouthed? heehee] so they show up here.  And honest - this isn't a post to garner sympathy or pity or even kudos.  There is nothing spectacular about me being up this long - it is all medication doing it - which in and of itself is freaking scary and here's a complete and total tangent, but doesn't it beg the question of WHY anyone would go out and buy an illegal drug to obtain this effect?  I mean, really?  If I ever thought of putting an illicit drug on my bucket list, to say I had at least tried it before I died?  THAT idea went out the window sometime during the evening, Friday.

Oh, and yes, I COULD stop this medicine, but the idea of THAT pain coming back? Not so much. 

I am weary folks. Not tired, just plain old worn down.  I am still here, I figure nothings gonna kill me at this point [Thank you God] but seriously?

I hope something in this entire post made sense.  Here ya' go Tadpoles. Have at it, and have fun in the comments.

XO Skippy

ETA at 9:01 pm - Flippin' great. Three quarters into the Super Bowl and the damn stadium gets exactly what I want. A power outage. Lights out in New Orleans folks.

Bet the 49ers are happy - they can go back to their naps. Jimminy Crickets - 28-6?  This isn't Pop Warner gang, try showing up when the lights come back on, you're embarrassing yourselves. And it's boring besides.

Go Ravens! Oh and Beyoncé? :P to everyone that complained that she lip synced at President Obama's inauguration [how is that even news, but....ah well...] She showed y'all and HOW tonight.  Go Beyoncé!

See ya' on the flipside.