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 |  Breaking the laws of blogging, one entry at a time. |
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Wanted: For repeated blog faux pas, including, but not limited to: Obsessive ranting - guilty on 92 counts. Repeatedly beating a dead horse - guilty on 17 counts. Unnecessary use of curse words - guilty on 142 counts. Boring daily recounts - guilty on 45 counts. Pointless entries - guilty on 214 counts. Contradictory statements - guilty on 72 counts. Recounting toilet actions - guilty on 15 counts. Overdramatization of insignificant things - guilty on 152 counts. Overreacting to meaningless gestures - guilty on 22 counts. Unnecessary temper tantrums - guilty on 75 counts. Cruelty towards animals, superiors, peers, and inferiors - guilty on 146 counts. Repeated bad grammar, spelling, and opinionations - guilty on 214 counts. Suspect is considered armed and dangerous. Do not confront directly, instead call the authorities and slowly back away. Do not provoke suspect, as she is easy to agitate. The best action to take is to smile and nod. Any other response could lead suspect to rant and rave for days without ceasing. REWARD OFFERED FOR CAPTURE Dead or alive. Offending evidence: ![Merit Badge in Journaling
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Given for penning the favorite response entry in the Follow the Leader contest with "Come Again?"](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/type-Journaling-2180.gif) (Exhibit A) ![Merit Badge in Variety
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Because I never knew what to expect from your Follow the Leader entries, but I'm oh so glad you played!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Variety-2500.gif) (Exhibit B) (Exhibit C) ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| I'm going to submit a scrapbook layout for publication. Well, after I finish it, anyway. One of Becky Higgins' sketches. We'll see how that goes. I might make a couple of different ones and submit which one I think is better, since I have a couple of ideas. I already started on one of them, and I'm not sure whether I'm liking it or not. It could be, of course, that I'm not used to doing 2-page spreads. I stunk Jason out of the bathroom this morning while he was taking a shower.  I couldn't help it really, though. Having been sick for a while now, I'm having some poopy problems. Kind of like butt pee. Except smellier and not exactly liquid.  Now that I've put that image in your head, I should stop. But I can't. Not because I have anything else to write about. I just feel like now I owe my readers something more than nasty poop entries. I have nothing else to offer, though, so I guess that's what you'll get. |
| GO IRISH!!! And to think I had a doubt about this week. I guess they showed me.  |
| Still around. No changes. I've been making myself eat, even though my appetite is lacking and it makes me feel ill. Small meals several times a day, just so that I don't mess up my metabolism more than it already is. The surgeon called me Friday, and is still concerned that my stomach hasn't gotten any better, and that the pain is still there. He's going to call me back on Monday, but I think I'm going to go back into my family doc's office. His calling me every other day isn't figuring out what the hell is wrong with me. I told Jason today that I'm starting to feel like I'm just crazy and all of this has to be in my head. There's no logical explanation as to why I'm in pain or why I'm sick, according to every blood test, urine test, and cat scan I've taken. Well, I've only had one cat scan, but still. I'm just one of those weird people who, when I feel sick, nobody can figure out why. It takes my almost dying before people take me seriously and then it still takes an additional three days to truly figure out what the problem is. I don't know. I'm just tired of feeling like this. If it takes me having to commit myself then so be it.  |
| This is getting ridiculous. I went back to the doctor this morning, and although I wasn't nauseated anymore he sent me to a specialist. I saw the specialist this afternoon and he says... get this... it's my fucking irritable bowels and bowel spasms. And I can say this with 100% certainty... he is WRONG. First of all, my irritable bowels haven't been irritated recently. They have, in fact, been so regular and insistant that I've been shooting shit out of my asshole pretty goddamned regularly. Almost to the minute at the same time every day. Second of all, I know what a bowel spasm feels like, and THAT was not a bowel spasm. Bowel spasms do NOT hurt me. They annoy the shit out of me (literally), but they do not hurt like that. This was not a menstrual cramp gone awry, either. Menstrual cramps are just that. Cramps. I've never had them feel any other way. I've had them nauseate me, but I've never vomitted because of them. I've passed out because I'm in so much pain, but never have I vomitted because my cramps were like stabbing pains in my abdomen. The cat scan showed that my appendix was dialated, but he (the specialist) wasn't confident that the pain in my abdomen when he pressed down was my appendix. The only way he could be certain was to run a cat scan of his own, which I declined because a) I do not want to drink that nasty ass contrast again and b) I don't feel like paying $400 out of my pocket for a procedure I just had done 2 days ago in the E.R. What's weird is that I was feeling better today. No nausea. But the pain was still there. And I ate some soup because the specialist said to start back on bland things like chicken soup and work my way back up to more solid items. So, not having eaten for 3 days, although I really didn't have an appetite, I ate some chicken vegetable soup. An hour later, and I feel like I want to vomit again. Lucky for me, I don't think I have to have surgery anytime soon, but it seems like the only doctor who thinks that something serious is going on is my family doctor. |
| So here's the full story, now that I've had a bit of sleep and have gotten the pain management under control: I woke up yesterday feeling icky. More than just period cramp icky. I had a sharp pain in my abdomen that seemed to come more from the right side than anywhere else. I called my doctor's office in tears because it hurt so bad. Everytime that I got up to do something, I would end up vomitting. If I sat down in enough time to not vomit, I was still broken out in a cold sweat and shaking. Jason came home from lunch to help me put Ethan down for a nap because I vomitted twice just trying to get him his lunch. My doctor's office said that if the pain was that urgent, to go to the E.R., so I did. Jason took me about 2 pm. We were there until about 9:30. In that time, they did a blood test, an urinalysis (which they had to catheter me for because I'm on my menstrual and they can't have blood in the urine), a shot of something for the pain, 3 attempts for an I.V. because they blew 2 of the veins, a pelvic exam, and a c.t. scan. I also had nothing to eat or drink the entire time because you can't for the c.t. and if I had to go into surgery. My blood test came back with an elevated white count, which is why they did the pelvic and the c.t. The c.t. showed an enlarged appendix but didn't think that that explained why my white blood cell count was up. Rather than finding out what was causing the infection, they gave me Ultram and sent me home. Where I'm still having the same pain, just managing it with the Ultram, which doesn't take it away completely but makes it so I can at least tolerate it. I don't think it's bad period cramps. I've been having bad period cramps and this feels like someone is stabbing me in the abdomen. But, since they pushed on my uterus and it hurt, they think thats why it hurts. They also pushed on my right side and I nearly came off the table at them, but because my uterus, which has been cramping, hurt a little, they're discounting the right side pain as related to that. But they also told me to watch to make sure that the right side pain doesn't intensify. I called my doctor for woman's stuff and she said that since my blood test showed I have an infection and my appendix was enlarged to call my primary care doctor. So I called there and they are going to call me back. I don't care who they think I should see. I just want to find out what the fuck is wrong with me. |
| I just spent the past 7 1/2 hours in the E.R. to be told that the stabbing pain in my abdomen could be my appendix, which showed up as enlarged but not infected in the ct scan, but it was most likely just really bad period cramps. Then they gave me non-narcotic pain medication and sent me home. Problem still not solved. |
GO IRISH! Cheer, cheer for old Notre Dame. Wake up the echoes cheering her name. Send a volley cheer on high, Shake down the thunder from the sky! Though the odds be great or small, Old Notre Dame will win over all While her loyal sons are marching onward to victory! Anybody who knows the verses to this song, and posts it as a comment in my blog... I'll give you some Gift Points. And if you make me truly believe you're an Irish fan, I might even give you a merit badge... Since most of you are merit badge whores and all. |
| The insanity in the death of the Croc Hunter is not that he died wrestling one of the many crocodiles that he put his life in jeopardy to save, it's that he died in a freak encounter with a stingray. Two deaths ever in Australia before him, and this is over a long period of time. And that it hit him in the chest is a one-in-a-million thing. To think that he got killed while doing a couple of "mild" segments for a show he was doing with Bindi is strange. Animal Planet is doing an Irwin marathon and some of the stuff that has been on in the past hour that we've been watching is eerie. I can't imagine what his family is going through right now. They all have to be devistated. I know that this isn't something I expected to hear... Croc Hunter is killed by a one-in-a-million shot to the chest from a stingray barb. I hope that he did die instantly, though, because he would have been in excruciating pain otherwise from the venom. My prayers are with them. That's pretty much been the conversation today. I can remember getting together with friends on nights off from work or classes to watch The Crocodile Hunter. He was always a lot of fun and we would spend the next hour or so after the show pretending one of us was a crocodile and the other was Steve Irwin and we were going to pin and wrestle... and no, it wasn't sexual, although it probably could have been. Other than that, I actually made money at the flea market thingie. Not a whole lot, but enough that I made up for all of the times I didn't, and then a little extra. |
| The cops came about 11:30. I'd already attempted to go to bed again, but Jason came in and filled me in on the details. I guess he drove up the road and then parked in front of a house even further down the road from my house, and then walked to the residence in question. Not because he was trying to be covert, but because there were that many fucking cars on the road. When he got to the house, the music went buhbye. Then people started leaving not long after that. I've never seen a place clear out so fast. It makes me think that he put a kaibosh to the party. I wasn't trying to rain on their parade. I was just trying to get them to quiet the fuck down so I could get some sleep. It would be one thing if the party had just started, but it had been going on for half the day already. I'm sorry, but just because you don't have to work in the morning doesn't mean the rest of the world gets to sleep in, too. Alright. I gotta go. Time for my little fleamarket thingie. Hope I make some money. |
| Motherfucking cocksucking shitheads. I hate neighbors. I want to live in the country where people can fucking SLEEP when they have to get up at 5:45 in the morning without hearing the motherfucking people 2 doors down having a party and people are so drunk that they talk about 17 times louder than necessary and play their music so loud I can hear the lyrics legibly through closed windows in my bedroom more than TWO houses down with a lot of shrubbery and trees in between. I called the fucking cops. You're damned right I did. This has been going on since about 6 pm and I was fine with it until I tried to go to sleep and motherfucking couldn't because they're being obnoxious and rude. If there weren't so many of those motherfuckers partying, I would go down there and ask them to quiet down myself, but I'm not about to put myself in a situation where some drunk ass motherfucker gets mouthy with me and I tell them to shut their fucking cock-hole and then a disagreement ensues. I do well to take care of myself in a one-on-one situation, but not in a 38-on-one situation. I hope the police show up soon and tell them to shut the fuck up. All I want to do is go to fucking sleep. I should've called 9-1-1 because getting to sleep is an emergency to me. And if I don't get to sleep soon, someone may lose their life. But I didn't want to pay the fine in the event that the city didn't agree with me. You know what's so fucking annoying about this? I had my fan going and I could still hear everything that was going on. I should NOT be able to hear your fucking party in my bedroom with the windows and door closed and my fucking fan going. Motherfuckers fuck with my sleep and they'll find out what the fuck happens. We're generally tolerant of this particular neighbor's parties because they're usually respectful, but once 10pm hit and they kept getting louder, we knew this was going to be a bad situation. Not to mention that there are so many cars parked up and down the road that I'm curious as to whether or not the cop will actually be able to drive down it. It's a narrow road already without cars parked on either side. I hope they all get tickets from the meter maid. Parking isn't allowed on the road after 11pm. Motherfuckers. Did I mention that I'm really fucking pissed off and really fucking tired? |
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Whatever you do, hang in there, he'll be sleeping like a big boy in no time!