I haven't really blogged as I've spent the past little while being fairly tired of myself. I mean, it's just all me, all day, every day. It starts with a morning meditation, which should eventually bring me closer to experiencing my real divine self (which I'm hoping is a little less boring than my earthly, ego-driven self), although currently I am still working through the superficial mind-based me to get there. Yawn. After breakfast, a bunch of pill-math: "Okay, if I take these first they'll make me less nauseous, and if I drink this much water I'll be able to take 4 at once, and today is not a prednisone day but I do have to change my hormone patch but not this morning like on Tuesdays but in the evening, and I have to remember to call in a refill of whatever today and to pick it up before Sunday..." The day continues with me checking the UV index to see how worried I should be about the sun today and which sunscreen I should wear and which hat and if I'll be on the sunny side of the car if I'm driving to the pharmacy in the morning vs. the evening; briefly punctuated by periods of examining every square inch of my skin for new freckles that may or may not have changed or new rashes that may or may not be from the sun (did I put sunscreen there yesterday? was I even in the sun or did I even go outside? what is this red dot? i mean seriously WHAT IS THIS RED DOT?!). There is usually a period of getting tired or not getting tired and questioning it either way, as well as planning a couple of activities with Luna, a couple of house projects, and making some headway on work (the consulting kind) the intensity and length of all of which combined must be JUST SO or I will burn out before Brett gets home, or even worse, burn myself out for the following day. Eventually I take my evening pills and go to bed hoping I ate recently enough that they won't make me vomit and wondering if I drank enough water during the day that I won't wake up with a headache (or according to my doctor, kidney failure for Pete's sake). I tell you, the level of self-examination is excruciating. Meanwhile, I don't get very much of anything besides self-maintenance accomplished, it seems, and Brett picks up all that slack. Saying I'm grateful for him is a bit of an understatement; I am with the exact person I need in my life. Anyway, on navel-gazing: I needed a break. But I'm better now.
Blood counts and etc.: still mostly stable as far as I know. Bi-weekly appointments are now monthly because let's face it, even my doctor is bored by me. I still vomit occasionally. I'm still collecting data on this, but I suspect that it is avocado-induced. Unfortunate, but what are you going to do. Still have episodes of fatigue, as well as episodes of just fine, thank you. I've gone to a few parties even, including a weekend in San Francisco and had a great time. We've taken Luna birding again at the Cosumnes River, which she hadn't stopped talking about since I took her last time. By the way, she's almost 3!! We also went to pick strawberries on a farm with my parents and have slowly been putting the house (which, by the way, we are in love with) together. It's such a great house, interesting and lots of character. It makes the fact that it is high-maintenance almost enjoyable. We continue to receive gifts and help and love from so many people...you know who you are! You have definitely kept us afloat in more ways than you know.
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| Casa de Quinn/Williams |
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| The small one looks over her domain |
Anyway, everything is as I always say it is, up and down. Does it sound like I'm complaining? Well, I'm actually not. I am really, really happy most of the time. And I mean really happy. Except for the times I'm not. In which case, I may complain. I've grown tired of saying, "...but I can't complain. At least I'm alive." BS. I can so. Everyone that complains is at least alive, whether you've been uncomfortably close to dying or not. So being annoyed at my fat face and unruly hair and bucketful of daily pills and patient-induced neuroses is about as normal as I can get. I know it's a luxury to be able to complain about small things, and I do appreciate the magnitude of that. Not to be confused with a lack of gratitude.
It occurs to me that I rarely post pictures of myself, for obvious reasons, so here are a couple demonstrating my progression since not a lot of people have seen me in awhile.
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| I looked like a cancer patient a few months away from chemo. I was. |
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| Rosy cheeks, full face, lots of lustrous hair... the illusion of health was all side-effects of medications. |
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| And then I suddenly looked like a 14-year-old boy. |
Love^2,
jq
