The ongoing why the hell can’t I breathe right saga….

I’m getting tired of hearing my doctor try and pin everything on anxiety.

I’ve been having trouble breathing, on and off, since mid February. It came on without any cause so far as I can tell, and lasted well over 3 weeks. It went away. It came back. It went away and is now coming back again.

We did chest X-Rays, I’ve tried inhalers and acid reflux medication and ulcer medication. Nothing. We did blood work an EKG and Ativan, nothing.

Nothing helps. This irritating issue goes away on it’s own, comes back when it pleases. It seems to be vaguely connected to what I eat-I eat too much or too crappy, I bloat and the sick cycle starts again.

Now he’s talking about anxiety again, and how he thought trying an antidepressant might help.

HELL NO.

I would feel anxious, wouldn’t I? I would feel like I used to, terrified and secretly worked up about everything? I would know, right?

He also mentioned possible IBS, maybe Celiac disease, and his own bafflement. Hence his falling back on anxiety, the good ole catch all. Can’t find something actually wrong with you? Must be teh crazy.

I am usually more than willing to accept that, but not this time. I feel no anxiety over anything in my life, aside from occasional work stress, I’m not stressed out.

He wants me to do a stress test anyway.

I didn’t even get around to mentioning the fact that my periods have gone insane. So I’m hoping my PAP comes back clear.

I’m just tired of not knowing, of worrying when this will come back and stay for however long it stays. Feeling like you’re suffocating for weeks on end just ain’t cool.

Yes, I’m like a small child with “special needs” sometimes

When it comes to food, I’m a little picky. I’ve been called strange and toddleresque in the past, which doesn’t bother me.

Simply put, I have texture issues, along with the standard “it smells weird, looks weird, tastes weird” issues that most small kids have. Hence the title. (Am I smart tonight or what?)

What icks me out? I flat out cannot stand tomatoes, mushy cereal, pudding, cookies or ice cream with hard crunchy things, raisins, chicken on the bone, cooked ham, vegetable juice. Ripe bananas.

I have day to day issues with rice. I’m currently fighting my melon resistance, and I’m winning-however, I’m not ready to give up my watermelon hatred just yet. (It’s like eating sandpaper I swear)

Sometimes I get that look when I’m out to eat and order something minus the everything. Like nachos. I hate having anything more than green onions and cheese on them, but I hate feeling like a 4 year old when I ask them to hold the nasty, icky, mushy out of season tomatoes. So I ask them to leave them on. And inevitably find myself grossed out and flicking tomato guts around the dish.

I regularly get attitude from people that is along the lines of “you should just eat it”, but why should I? So what if I’m picky? So what if my food preferences are rather….extreme in nature? Sure, between my texture issues and no meat most of the time desires, I’m left with some rather strange options sometimes. But I’m ok with that. It’s the people around me who usually have conniptions.

I know I’m not the only one with weird things I will or won’t eat-so spill-what’s your strangest?

So foul

I’m foul foul foul.

It’s “that” time of the month. You know what it’s like being bipolar and then getting your period? It’s like World War Three. Shit falls down, breaks apart, blows up and generally is unpleasant to be around.

I feel so fucking fat I don’t even look in the mirror at this point. Starving myself is beginning to look better and better everyday. I feel so invisible.

I’m depressed. I’m fucking tired of being depressed, or feeling like I should be happy when I just don’t feel anything. Weren’t these drugs supposed to help this?

I’m angry. I’m fierce and fiendish and loud and all I want to do is scream my lungs out for days. I can’t even go anywhere and sing, the one real vent I normally have. (besides, not singing loudly for so long has left me bereft of the little bit of control I normally have over my breathing)

My back fucking kills, likely because I’m becoming disgustingly fat. My self loathing knows no bounds this week.

The pills must not be working, because the dreams are back. The horrible fucking death dreams are back, and I sleep the sleep of the tormented.

AND I turn 30 next week.

Fuck.

Monday sucks

I feel like shit today. I work up feeling like shit-literally. I’ve had a touchy stomach all weekend, particularly Saturday night, but I chocked that up to having a glass of milk. (ye old lactose intolerance REALLY hates milk).

Apparently, that may not be it. I’m also on drugs that can either make you have the runs, or bung you up. So run with THAT thought process-I get a little bit of each almost everyday.

So in plain words, I feel like crap. CRAP. I need to take my pills, but I need to take them with food so they won’t irritate my stomach, but food will irritate the lower parts of my stomach and I’ll end up feeling shitty anyway.

Tack on to that my usual resentment at having to work for most of Sunday night as usual, and I’m not doing much work today. I want a job that doesn’t expect me to work on my DAYS OFF every week. I used to have one-I didn’t mind the occasional need, but now, it’s every Sunday night for at least 2 hours. It SUCKS.

Beh. I’m in a horrible mood, and I have to watch my children all day, log on to a few conference calls and try not to crap my pants, all while trying to stay awake since my pills have been working for shit and my dreams keep me from sleeping well.

Good times, all around.

Pick your poison.

It’s not bad enough that a 19 year old sleep with a child, an 11 year old girl.

It’s not bad enough that their mothers KNEW about it, and did nothing about it.

It’s not even bad enough that the 11 year old became pregnant, kept the baby and is caring for it herself.

What’s fucking horrible about the case of Blake Blyth fucking a child is that NO ONE in their neighbourhood seemed particularly disgusted or shocked about what happened.

What does it take to shock people anymore? Are we all so blase about bad things that happen? Should we just step back and say “that’s there business, not mine” WTF? Should we just close our eyes and shrug?

ELEVEN. She gave birth at ELEVEN. What kind of mother lets this happen? If that was my child, Blake wouldn’t be able to walk. EVER. He’d be missing his kneecaps.

so much for dinner….

The Clicking of Maggots

Now, we’ve established many times that I’m a wee bit picky with food texture and taste. I’m not big on new weird flavours. Don’t mix different things up in food. I don’t like extremes of taste. I don’t like moldy cheese, things that smell like feet, or really really spicy food.

But this? This is FAR too much for me:

Italy’s casu frazigu takes the concept of smelly cheese to new heights (or depths). When it’s cut, thousands of maggots crawl out. The mess is smeared on flatbread and washed down with red wine. On his way to taste some, Marcone could smell it as he approached the door and heard the clicking of maggots against the cheese container six metres away.

Yes, you read that right. (And you can read the rest of the article here.) MAGGOTS. As in future flies, things we generally try to not eat, and keep away from our food.

I looked it up, on Wikipedia like any good internet savvy curious girl. I wish would have resisted. From the wiki:

“When disturbed, the larvae can jump for distances up to 15 cm (6 inches), prompting recommendations of eye protection for those eating the cheese. Some people clear the larvae from the cheese before consuming; others do not.”

Yaroslav Trofimov, in the August 23, 2000 edition of The Wall Street Journal, describes the cheese as “a viscous, pungent goo that burns the tongue and can affect other parts of the body.”

Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t we be attempting to stay AWAY from larve in our food? Dead, or removed? Do you want maggot poo in your cheese?

What drives someone to think this is a good idea? Here I thought eating brains was disgusting, but lo and behold, someone takes it up a notch.

And here I was wondering why I was feeling so nauseous today.