Tag: health stuff

Vampyres and Technology

Tuesday. Suddenly, it’s Spring. Trash and recycling patiently awaiting pickup at the curb.

I have been to tithe the Vampyres, who have got New Technology. It had used to be that you entered the lab area, took a number and were, in the fullness of time, Called. Now! You enter your name into a tablet, and it appears on the Big Screen in the waiting area. Occasionally, the Big Screen pings brightly, and a name is shown, with directions underneath. I input my name and sat reading for some time before my name went up in lights and I was directed to Station Number Two for logging in, after which I was returned to the waiting area, this time to wait for a call-code to appear under my name on the screen. I sat down, verified that I had finish reading my book, of which more anon — and the screen went down.

I swear I had nothing to do with this. All I did was say, so that the receptionist on duty could hear, “Technology! Screen’s down.” Then, as I had finished my book, I pulled out my phone to check my mail (and the guy next to me, on the assumption that he knew all about my intentions, said, “That won’t do you any good.” Really?), the receptionist called for Olivia, who appeared to reset the screen, and my name was called to enter the lab.

Blood was drawn, the tech was interested in the symbol on my shirt (Tree-and-Dragon), I made answer, was favored with the information that the tech’s granddaughter loves science fiction and went to bookstores and belonged to a book club, and all. I offered a card so her granddaughter could look for our stuff; the asked for several to share with other book loving friends, and we parted on good terms.

I stopped at Washville on my way home and came home richer by a clean car and a subscription, so now I won’t have to hassle the card reader at the gate, which I use for an excuse to not wash the car when it’s needed. Hopefully, this circumstance, and the fact that Washville is slightly less horrifying in its methods than Golden Nozzle, may help me keep the car better.

So, Duainfey. Yep, there are a couple of tough scenes, but no porn, and the reflective arcs of story are perfectly fine. It is Dark, but, being as that’s As Advertised, this is a Feature not a Bug.

I have just finished eating a cookie with a mug of tea, and as soon as I post this missive to the internets, I’ll be making rice, which I neglected to do yesterday, and also washing the bedclothes, which likewise didn’t happen yesterday. On the bed itself, I think I need to change out the Deep Winter blanket for the waffle-weave, and! I need to write an email, do my duty the cats, find lunch, and eventually wander out to the library to get crafty.

What’ve you got going today?

Same as it ever was…

Saturday. The almost-full moon is casting tree-shadows over the snow in the Long Back Yard.

I wrote new words today! And did actual Brain Work on the WIP. And changed the bed, and did a load of laundry, and one’s duty the cats; made lunch and was able to eat it, after.

Yes, we have reached the part of the whole pain thing where — POOF! All gone. Just joking. You may now carry on with your life until I decide to randomly take five freaking days and fill them with pain and despair.

Sigh.

The cats were very happy that I joined them in Steve’s office to work today. It really is the preferred space for serious endeavors, though the comfy chair in my office is, of course, very nice.

I made the Executive Decision to join Cook Unity, and have ordered in four meals, which will be delivered on Friday. This means I am guaranteed to have four (hopefully) good meals to eat, and will take the whole Cooking Angst off of my Angst Plate, which is currently overfull with Deadline Angst. I’m viewing this as a short-term thing to lower the overall anxiety in the household. Since they say I can cancel or put it on hold at my discretion, as soon as the book’s turned in, I’ll be doing that. Yes, I need Staff. Also, probably, a keeper.

Looking forward to next week — we have Rookie’s second birthday on Monday, March 2. All of Tuesday is reserved for errands, with needlework in the evening. Wednesday, Thursday, and most of Friday I am Free to Write, and on Saturday?

I’m going to a magic show.

So, I’m really, yanno, happy, that my back has decided to return to normal.

Yes, I’ve seen the news.

How’s everybody doing?

Oh.  Here’s a picture of Rook helping me make the bed.

The marvel is not how well the bear dances . . .

What went before: Wednesday. Snowing and partly sunny.

Despite the distress it will of course cause his fandom, I am forced to report that Rookie the Cookie is a Schmuck. Or possibly only a Jerk. He’s been knocking stuff off the shelves in the Tech Room — notably, bottles of liquid toner, which apparently make a lovely thud-SMACK sound when they land (honestly, it’s a very distinctive sound; I can recognize a toner bottle hitting the floor from two rooms away). I expect he doesn’t really know that I can’t easily pick the damn’ things up right now, but — aargh. Get a cat, they said, they’ll be fun. Get a Maine Coon Cat, they said. They’re very interested in their people and like to engage.

In other news, despite having felt somewhat better last night, I’m back to Square One (minus the THC) this morning. It occurs to me that I better line up a ride to my appointment at Thayer tomorrow afternoon, which — aargh x 2. I hate bothering people to do stoopid stuff for me.

I’ve written to my PCP regarding pain management — the idea being that, going in the front door with back pain (yes, I’m doing my PT homework) needs to be supported by another approach, because even my therapist said that this will keep happening, only as my core gets stronger, an episode will last … less long. What I want, of course, is The Grail: something that will kill the pain, or get it down to manageable levels, and neither make me sick or fuzz me out, so I can write. And so I’m not a danger to myself or to the cats. That’s important, too. As is eating. It’s ridiculously hard to eat when you’re in pain.

The cats are taking good care of me — well. Firefly and Tali are checking in regularly to administer lap-sits and purr therapy.

Rookie’s knocking shit off the shelves in the Tech Room.

In addition to pain management brainstorm, I arrived at the opinion that I should also figure out ways to work even when I’m feeling this bad. So! I have moved Writing Operations to the comfy chair in my office (which has been Back Pain Central), rigged up the laptop with my favorite keyboard, and brought the WIP, and the portable hard drive here, too. So, hopefully, I’ll be able to continue with fixing stuff that’s already been written, and that this episode of painful nonsense will vacate before I realio, trulio need to start producing New! Copy!

So, that’s the somewhat muddled news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How’s everyone doing?
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So, that was no fun at all.

I don’t want to get ahead of myself but I may have gotten around the Horn. Of course, I’m shaky because I haven’t eaten anything for 3 days except peanut butter crackers (Note to self:  Buy peanut butter crackers; the damn things are lifesavers.) to buffer the meds.

I do have a ride lined up for my appointment this afternoon, so that’s good, and my intention is to actually have breakfast and then come back to the comfy chair, do some work on the WIP, and not push things. And eat snacks. What a time to be out of hummus. Bad planning, past me.

Firefly is on my lap and purring.

I’m almost done my Russian Caravan tea Christmas present (Note to self: buy more Russian Caravan tea).

And that’s that’s the fascinating Thursday report from the cat farm and confusion factory.

Dictated to my phone.
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Did some work on the WIP, actually ate food. Steve Symonds gave me a ride to and from the hospital for my test, so that’s taken care of. Managed to get the cat fountains changed out, which has been really bothering me. I’m such a bad cat mom. Talked to the accountant, and — ouch. Not unexpected, but still. Ouch. I’ll pick up the papers on Monday, when — fingers crossed — I hope to be Fully Operational.

In the meantime *whispers* my back is not hurting, which places as a Minor Miracle, and what I really want to do is go curl up (figuratively) and read Local Custom.

May I just say what a great job we did with Local Custom? The gradual unfurling of the leaves of character, the! worldbuilding!, the things that are said so very plainly and yet don’t mean the same thing to the person you’re talking with and — I swoon. No, really.

Damn, I wish I could write like that.

Also? There’s a description — a Very Detailed Description — of a counterchance board. I. Had. No. Idea.

So, anyway, I see the tax stuff, and that I have to Move Monies in order to satisfy the IRS and the State of Maine, but yanno what?

Imma go read.

Everybody have a good evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.

No…really. I will.

Tali collecting overdue ear scrubbles:

Apologies and short catch-up

We seem to have gotten behind here.  My apologies.  Allow me to sum up.

On Saturday, February 21, I gave my presentation at the Waterville Public Library to a small, but enthusiastic room.  Questions were asked and answered, books were signed.  I had a good time.

I came home and collapsed, got up Sunday, did some work on the WIP, cleaned up the chaos in my “business office,” and noticed that my back was hurting.

Aha!  I said to myself.  Self, this is a perfect time to test the pain-killing features of a thc gummy (1/4 strength).  Possibly, I was not wrong; nonetheless, it wasn’t my best thought ever.  It turns out that thc, even in small amounts, gives me a Really Ugly high, which I could have put up with, if it had nailed the pain, which it didn’t.  Worse, it didn’t even put me to sleep.

Followed Monday, with back pain and exhaustion, being treated with Motrin Duo, and today, Tuesday, when I though I had gotten ahead of it, and actually worked an hour on the WIP this morning  before the pain came screaming back, so that’s two lost days, and I?  Am not amused.

I am feeling somewhat better this evening — witness the fact that I am writing to you here.

I thought I had to go out tomorrow for a bone density test, and was weighing the wisdom of that, but it seems I misremembered, and the test is on Thursday afternoon, by which time, she said sternly, I hope to GHOD I’m back to what I like to call normal.

So, in terms of catch up — y’all didn’t miss much, and I’m actually glad you missed most of it.

Here’s a pic from my talk on Saturday. Photo by Kiri Guyaz.

See how the mainsail sets

Tuesday. Partly cloudy and warm-ish. A good day for a ride, actually.

I’m just back from Bath, having come the Long Way Home, getting the car washed and picking up a Forbidden Sandwich at Subway, this in addition to the peppermint mocha and ricotta-cherry Danish I treated myself to at Cafe Creme after my doctor’s appointment, which?

Was a success of its kind. I got my levothyroxine dosage put back to where it’s been for the last decade or more, and I was given an A1C test (first time for everything, I guess), and scored a 4.5 of whatever it is they’re measuring, which they seemed happy with, and since there was no new medicine attached to whatever it is, I’m happy, too.

Also? No more doctor appointments and only one test on the time map until November. Unless Something Comes Up, which — fingers crossed.

As mentioned above, I came home via Rte 1 and 27, and was able to honor the Ancient Pact to sing along with “Sloop John B” when it popped up on the radio. I also tried to sing along with “Wild, Wild West,” but I really only remembered, “I love her eyes and her wild, wild hair,” which I sang with Verve.

I’m now going to tinker with my Remarks, remembering to eat my Forbidden Sandwich and to go to needlework.

What song(s) did you sing along with this morning?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by The Beach Boys, “Sloop John B“

History points out again and again

The Long Back Yard

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Friday. Cloudy. Breezy. Cold.

The weather beans tell me that it’s not going to snow today, but I’m watching flakes kind of just lazily drifting out of the sky so that’s interesting.

I slept solid and never woke up until 7:30. The exciting end of book writing schedule is just exhausting. All together now: Writing is hard.

I’m sitting in the comfy chair overlooking the long backyard with the happy light on. Eventually I’ll get up and get some breakfast and do my duty to the cats and wander off down coast for a bit.

I hope everybody has a good day.

Dictated to my phone.

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Pine Point


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Well. It was a nice day for a drive. Too cold to walk on the beach, though I saw some brave souls out there.

The spine doctor says keep doing what I’m doing. I have a referral to an osteo in Augusta, for manipulation, and also an extension on my PT ticket, since next time is the last time. I at least want that on file in case I need to go back, sorta like running a credit balance on your credit card.

Since it was all nice and sunny and all, and because I haven’t practiced with my navigator for a while, I drove home up Route 9, and let the navigator take me through Portland.
Got home to find, despite the instructions being in my FedEx file AND the garage door being open so it would be easy to just sit the box inside, the deliveryperson had opted to throw the 50-lb box against the front door. That’s right, so it didn’t open.

I struggled, and got the door open, whereupon the latch on the screen door flew free and splotted on the driveway.

Went inside, took care of business, came back to go through the door and get my Stuff out of the car and! That’s right! The door doesn’t open.

I get out my phone to call my neighbor, only — I can’t make a call. I can, however, text, and she’s home and she promises to come right over and let me out, just as soon as she gathers her tools, in case it was an easy fix.

While I’m waiting for her, I look out needlenose pliers, which don’t work, and only then realize I can reach through the window and open the latch from the outside, which I do.

Neighbor arrives. We get the latch back on, precariously. We come to the mutual conclusion that the set screw has come loose. We collaborate on a temp fix. Neighbor goes home, comes back with husband who has arrived home in the meanwhile. He sets the screw, diagnosis a worn-out spring, and performs a more stable temporary fix. My mission next week (after I finish this. damned. book) will be to go to the hardware store and see if they can sell me another latching mechanism.

In the meanwhile, I tried to call my cell from my landline and learned that my number is not in service.

So! I guess I should go see what the Verizon page has to say to me about that.

And how was your Friday?
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Verizon will call me back when it’s my turn — at 3:30 pm tomorrow.

So, that’s fun. I hope nobody snabbles up my phone number in the meantime.

I bought a sandwich at the Saco Hannaford, but with one thing and something else, I never got around to eating it, so I’m thinking, I’ll search up Coon Cat Happy Hour, pour a glass of wine and open my sandwich.
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Late updatery: I rebooted my phone and it is now Fully Operational.

I have canceled my litter order from Petco, so I never have to deal with FedEx again. It cost me a little bit of a pang, because it was one of the systems Steve had put into place, but he never meant it to get this stoopid.

I will be writing tomorrow, Saturday, and the next day, Sunday. With only a little bit of luck, I’ll finish this damned draft.

Today’s blog post brought to you by Blue Oyster Cult, “Godzilla“

The Friday Report

So, I woke up at 5:45, and my neck was swollen and sore again and I addressed the universe in a disrespectful manner. Then I took the Command Decision to FTS, got up, got dressed, made a cup and a thermos of tea, took that and a KIND breakfast bar back to Steve’s office, woke up his computer and got to work.

I broke for lunch around noon, having written about 800 words — lunch being a chef’s salad from the deli. I ate a little more than half with a serving of soup I’d had in the freezer. Tomorrow, I’ll put what’s left — some meat, cheese, tomato and onions — into scrambled eggs for breakfast, so that’s ONE meal figured out for tomorrow.

Returned to Steve’s office after lunch and wrote some more. Got tired eventually and quit for the day. Did my duty to the cats. Waiting for the mail to arrive so I can bring in the package that’s supposed to be included before the ink freezes, then take a shower and probably collapse.

I should report that I feel somewhat better than I did when I woke up. I did take the combined Motrin, and if the kind of pain I woke up with this morning is what it’s keeping at bay — all honor to it. Also used hot compresses on my neck.

The cats have been hanging in all day, which was! Cloudy and warm. Snow is melting, or at least compacting. I’m really glad I asked the Magnificent Plowguy to sand the driveway. HUGE improvement.

Finished watching The Apothecary Diaries last night. My *goodness*, that was some tight storytelling! Well done, writers.

I can now cancel Crunchyroll. I do, yes, realize, that there’s a ton of anime offered there, but the chances of my stumbling upon anything actually worth watching are, um, low. If anybody had a rec that’s worth keeping Crunchyroll around for — by all means speak. My taste, apparently, runs to stuff like AD. Back in the day I liked Fruit Baskets and … the one with the duck — ah. Princess Tutu. Writing Anime. If that’s not a subgenre, it ought to be.

And the mail’s in! And Rook is chasing Tali around my office because it’s all her fault. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know what “it” is.

Writing stats: New words written (I think not all of these today, but honestly, what do I know?): +/-2,190. Total words in WIP: +/-124,117.

And that’s the beans.

How’s everybody holding up?

Earlier today.  Firefly had ennui.

Out Sick Part II

Tuesday. Sunny, though we’re supposed to be looking for a winter storm or maybe that’s blowing out to sea, what do I know?

Still sick. Still resentful. Not really interested in eating but I have to so I can take the magic drugs. Been reading a Gentleman in Possession of Secrets.

Tali helped me sit in the sun earlier. Now I’m on the couch and Firefly is sitting on the back, flirting and purring. Last seen, Rookie was asleep in the bed.

And that’s what I’ve got. Hope everybody’s having a good day.

This dictated to my phone.

It’s plain to see we’re over

Wrote about 1,000 words so far. Taking a break to do PT homework, and to open the door so the FedEx guy could put the cat litter in the vestibule for me, and to come to terms with a couple of hard truths.

Hard truth number 1 — I’m not going to be able to give stained glass the attention it deserves. I want to do it, but — writing first, and cats, and PT, and having to sleep — and I don’t have time to embrace another art as it deserves. I hate this, but here we are. I still intend to finish my second piece, but I think I won’t be going forward.

Damn.

Second hard truth — I’m really glad I had two other people read the results of my MRIs and talk to me about what they mean, because I just got a note from my doctor saying that the results are “unremarkable.” Now, the results are not epically bad, and if I keep at the PT, I can probably get to a place where my back will be stronger and less likely to kick out (though it occurred to me last night that I still need some kind of drug intervention on hand for if/when it does), but the tone of this thing is “It’s all in your head,” which, when I was a kid and having a hard time figuring out what was this “real” people kept talking about, was devastating. I’d gotten it wrong again, and mixed up Story Stuff and Real Life Stuff.

My skill level on that front is much better 60-odd years down the road, and now? I’m mad. No, it is not in my head. Yes, it is remarkable because if I don’t do something now, it will get worse. Jeebus, do I gotta explain this stuff to a doctor?

Also, there’s a bill from the practice, which, yeah, I really feel like paying.

What else? Oh. I brought my boom box up from the studio and rigged it up with an extra set of Steve’s high-end Bose speakers, and now I can listen to CDs from our own collection in the living room in the evening when the cats and I retire to read, and I’m not dependent on Sirius or Maine Public playing exactly what I want to hear.

Speaking of which — this morning I heard something interesting on Sirius XM (thank you, Tommy London). Once Upon a Time, there was a band called Damn Yankees, which was a pretty good band — Ted Nugent, Tommy Shaw, Jack Blades, and Michael Cartellone — that put out two pretty good albums. And, as they were on their way, literally, to the studio to get album number three in the can, they were contacted by their agent. Their label was offering them a million bucks not to make the album.

They took the money, and the band . . . disbanded.

Now, I have no idea what discussions ensued before they made their decision, but, my ghod, what a decision to have to make. And I can see that one consideration would be that, if the label wanted to get rid of them to the tune of a cool mil, if they didn‘t take the money, it was likely the third album would never be promoted and the band would still have to disband — and be broke, too.

Well.

Time for PT homework. I may send out for Chinese for lunch. Or not. I have leftover curry. Speaking of decisions…
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I’m always pleased when Steve joins me for my walk. Today I was offered the insight that the thing which has blocked my finishing of my second piece of stained glass isn’t a lack of time — when I was cutting pieces out, I’d go to the studio for an hour in between writing this or that and cut glass — but lack of a tool, which also comes down to a lack of time. I don’t have a grinder, and I therefore need to rent a studio and drive out for what amounts to a day to grind my pieces.

If I had a grinder in-house, I could just keep on with my hour of Art While I Think.

So, now what I need to ask is: Am I committed enough to this new art to purchase a grinder?

Whole different question.

And? Collaboration in action.
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So that’s a total of 1,841 words on the day, bringing the WIP to 121,060ish. The scene I wrote today may be too long, but I liked the character. And of course the minute I got up, I thought of two other things that need to happen in that scene, so! I printed it out to read tomorrow morning while I’m in the comfy chair with the sunlamp.

I’m thinking this weekend is divesting myself of Christmas. The wreath is kinda bleeding needles, and the cats are not fans.

I had leftover curry for lunch, and by virtue of adding leftover peas and rice, and throwing in some onions and some green pepper, there’s still curry left over, though I’ll probably give it a break tomorrow.

And that? Is all I’ve got.

Everybody stay safe and have a good evening.

I’ll look in tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Deep Blue Something, “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”

Oh, no, wait! That’s not all I’ve got. Here, have a picture of Rookie.