The week so far...

As you know, I've been using the Snowflake Method to model my novel. I still don't have a name for it, but I'm at steps 6 and 7 similtainously, creating a 4 page synopsis from the one page synopsis (ok, page and a half synopsis) and full fledged character charts. From there it's step 8, create the spread sheet with the scenes. I should be all plotted and planned in time for the start of NaNoWriMo!

Here's what I have so far...

Before she got sick, Debbie Shiloh had been a very successful communications annalist with (BIG name) Company. They found the tumor in her Palfitzer gland, which as you know, nestles up close to the pituitary gland. The Palfitzer gland is thought to be the source of a person’s magic base, and in the rare case where a tumor forms, they must be removed. When Debbie when in to surgery to have it removed, she ended up having a seizure while they were removing the tumor as a complication to the surgery. After the surgery, and as part of her recovery process, her doctors put her on medication that completely surpassed all activity in her Palfitzer gland. This medication was backed up with spell support to make sure that the gland was completely paralyzed so it could heal properly. But once returned home, she started to hallucinate. At first, it was small things. Like a fire in the oven, when there shouldn’t have been one. Then it progressed to seeing people and small grey blurry images that would whip by her feet when she wasn’t expecting it.

When she was having a good day, she was out back doing some yard work and removing some vines from trees. She stepped on one of the squirrel’s network nodes (that look like oak tree acorns). She crushed it against a rock. Because the summer had been so dry, the electronics inside the communication device sparked on the dry leaves, starting the slow burn for the fire. It wasn’t a big fire, and the fire department is able to put it out without too much trouble. The one neighbor loses part of a fence, and the fire’s cause is listed as unknown. She decided that now is the time to clear the one area for a open room for summer-time sleeping and general hanging out. While Debby was out poking in the rubble of the burned out woods, she finds a burned rubber ducky (for the Seattle Duck challenge), and some odd assortment of toys. While she is working on this, Mr. Tibbles starts talking to her, and makes it known that he can talk to her. He introduces her to Marrok and together they start to explain about the squirrels and all that those strange toys she finds are not toys at all.

After speaking with Mr. Tibbles and Marrok for a while and after examining the evidence, she becomes convinced that there is indeed an invasion. She starts trying to convince people of this. Several people are convinced, but they don’t understand -- they think the squirrels she is talking about are real pest invaders from a different part of the planet, not space invaders. She gets put into a loop with the local fish and wildlife folks. They completely do not understand that she’s trying to explain that this is a space invasion, not a pest thing. Her nurse is convinced that she’s gone mental, and convinces her doctors and family that she needs to be placed in hospital for “a period of observation.” Just to make sure that her medication is stable and that she is not a danger, just slightly bonkers.

While Debbie is in the hospital undergoing tests of various flavors, the squirrels launch the first attack. However, while she’s in hospital, her husband starts to examine the weird toys, and her son explains that they aren’t like any toys he’s ever seen either. They discoverer that something else is at work, Perhaps she is not imagining this squirrel thing after all. The squirrels launch a concerted attack on several power substations, and they choose to launch their attack under cover of a massive regional thunder and electrical storm. However, they are not expecting so much of the area to be heavy magic run, so the damage is not as great as they expected, Their goal is to shutdown the Puget Sound Energy Basin and the Hydro Dam Systems, but they do enough damage to get the attention of more than just the Fish & Wildlife department

The first days after the attack have all kinds of wild speculation about just what happened. It is not until later that during the clean up that odd things are found at all the affected sites. Workers from The Division of Energy discover the mess left by the squirrels. Some of the odd things include too much plant material that shouldn’t be there, some of it is actual alien squirrel technology. Debby and her family receive a cryptic message from a mysterious person, vindicating all her warnings.



Now for real life.

I spent much of the week crashed. I ended up with one of my terrible headaches that sent me to the ER. The jerk doctor accused me of drug seeking, of not even having Cushing's. The fool obviously knows nothing about endrocin tumors. So, he told me that they won't be treating me anymore in the ER, I don't even know if they can turn me away, so I'll be calling the patient omsbusman at the hospital, and see if they can refuse me treatment. My endo faxed them information on 10/2, and somehow it's MY fault the hospital lost those records? The Jerk ER doc kept wanting to know why I haven't had brain surgery yet. Hello! this is brain surgery, not some ellective surgery for an in-grown toe-nail we are talking about.

Jerk.

Anyway, I don't know when I'm going ot be having surgery. I'm still in limbo about that. And I'm still facing yet more and more and more cycles. I feel that I will never never be free of this. I'm hurtling towards another crash and there is nothing I can do to stop it. And then the next crash, and the next one, and the next one after that.

Last night my husband and I went to the Seattle Opera's production of The Italian Girl in Algiers (L'italiana in Algeri) sung in Italian with English supertitles. It was my second opera, the first one was also a Rossini, the Barber of Seville. Madcap and silly!

My 100th Post!

Weekend check in...
I'm doing well with the wean off the Dope-o-max! Hurray! Still haven't found a new neuro, the new one that my PCP referred me to doesn't exist So, that means she either saw me coming and quit, or my doc is referring me to imaginary doctors.

I don't know if the wean from the Dope-o-max is having an effect, but this High feels higher than the last high. I don't know if I feel this way simply because my Cycle is getting shorter, or if there is something else in play. But I do know that I had a "regular" headache yesterday, yeah, I know. Well, it was layered on top of my normal everyday headache, but it wasn't a "Countdown" headache, and because I'm High, it obviously wasn't a Crash headache. A couple of OTC pills and I was fine. Yeah, I know! amazing!

I'm having a lot of fun with gearing up for NaNoWriMo. I've got my Novel almost all plotted out, my characters are almost all fleshed out. Wednesday I wrote a thousand word short story for a Challenge as part of the Seattle Chapter, and Thursday (ok, it was Friday between 2:30 and 4:30 I wrote 1,000 words of dialogue for another Challenge. I've never done dialogue before, but it turned out pretty good. It's just a couple of women having coffee.

Tonight I'm actually going to a party, a costume party for a Halloween theme party. A friend is turning 40, which is a great age. I liked turning 40. It meant for me, I was an official grown-up, and I didn't have to take Koi from anyone, ever again. Not even from my mom. I'm going to cheat though, I'm not going in a costume, I'm simply going to wear my most FAB belly dancing outfit. Mike's gonna borrow my pirate gear though.

I am now EXALTED with Frostwolf Clan. I think that will mean something to only other hardcore gamers. As you know, I play World of Warcraft, or WoW, but I simply cannot play when I'm Low. Can't do it. I've tried, and I just can't do it. And I can't play when I'm Super High either. (last night I told Jamie that I was Potaoe High) I have no idea what that means, but it's a pretty good indicator that I'm whacked... So, if my post seem extra-extra silly, I'm blaming the High.

Now if I can only keep from braking out in freaker/tweeker... yesterday Spud make me drink vodka. That's how high I was, and how concerned he was about that High. I'm out of medicinal rum though...

The party last night was great. And quite the victory. On so many levels it was a victory. I was High, so that was a victory, I didn't let the fact that I knew only the birthday gurl stop me. I didn't let my fear of strangers or strange places stop me. No sirey bub! We went and had a mah-vu-lous time! It was really, really hard at first, and Mike wasn't helping. I know he was trying to help, but I was overwhelmed, and his being overprotective wasn't helping. But I got a grip and had a great time! The band was great, called 8-track, and they did covers of all the great 80's hits.

Today's art
Today we have last year's pumpkin. I'm gearing up for Halloween. This is the front of the pumpking. I didn't carve through it here. The back, which I didn't get a picture of, had a cut out of a mouse that threw a shadow (and let in the oxygen so the candle wouldn't go out...). I will be carving two of the "fake" pumpkins this year as well as real ones. Well, that's the plan anyway. I'll definately be carving one fake one. I've already got it, just have to decide what the design will be. Shade carvings don't work well with those types of pumpkins, gotta be a full cut through.

The Aristocrats!

A man walks into a talent agent and says, 'Have I got the act for you!'" Squeezed into the talent agent is more like it. The man was corpulent; there was no getting around that. He weighed 300 kilograms if he weighed a kilo and the talent agent wondered how the man even fit through the door. On the other hand, the agent would have wondered if that was part of the its programming.

It’s not often one runs across someone this large, the prospective client is quite remarkable on his own; he would stand out in any crowd, in any of the settled planets. To say he is massive misses the mark; it just does not capture the bulk of the man. The client not only fills the frame, the focus is not wide enough to capture him completely. He is dressed fashionably, and obviously takes pride in his appearance. There is a sparkle in his eyes, and his short black hair curls softly around his ears.

Scanning the man’s chip, the agent produced a suitable chair for the man. The chair blank in place quickly and quietly morphs into a comfortable yet sturdy chair and a half, upholstered in pink cabbage rose chintz.

While the chair was designed to be physically comfortable, the chintz fabric was specifically designed to unnerve the man, ever so slightly. It did its job. It was designed to give the talent agent a little more of an upper hand in the dealings that were to come.

The man lowers his bulk into the proffered chair and waits for the Agent to appear. There was a time once when receptionists were quite common. Now those niceties belong to only the highest level of society. While this was a posh area, there are levels of classy and this did not quite rank a receptionist. Almost, but not quite.

There are rumors that there was a time long ago when talent agents were actual people, not rooms. Now they are all automated, robotic and holographic. The talent agent scans the man and quickly determines the best hierarchical Talent Agent Hologram to use with the man. The Keith model is chosen, very generic, and very bland.

While the Keith could have quickly materialized or morphed in front of the prospective client, it was considered poor social convention for humanoid objects to do this. While it is certainly done in some sectors, it is frowned upon in more polite circles. This being a posh talent agency, the Keith simply used the cover of the side door to materialize.

The Kevin sits directly across from the client. Nothing like a little face-to-face with human males to create a little tension. All the better for bargaining. He touches a small button on the desk and a carafe of ice water with two companions glasses materialize on a tray to his left. He offers a glass to the client.

The man introduces himself. “The name’s Kepton, Norton Kepton.” But of course, the talent agent already knew this. The talent agent already knew many things about Mr. Kepton because it has scanned his public H chip the moment he’d walked into the agent.

The Kevin waited a moment while Norton greedily gulped down the ice water, not so much finesse to the fat man’s drinking style. It should have been obvious to even the casual observer that Mr. Kepton was using the robotic enhancement though help maintain some mobility but it was still going to be a struggle to move that much personal mass around. It didn’t matter if you were a heavy worlder or not, 300 kilograms is 300 kilograms is still extraordinary amount of weight to move.

When Norton poured himself a second glass of ice water, the Kevin knew this was his cue to start his sales pitch.

“Welcome to The Sparkle Sky Talent Agency, Mr. Kepton.”

“As you know, we supply The Imperial Cruise Experience almost exclusively. While we do handle other companies and other liners, The ICE makes up the bulk of our business. While most Talent Agencies manage their talent, we are more concerned with our contracts with our large customers. That is where our loyalties lie. It is important for you to understand that up front.”

“I assume you manage this act?”

Mr. Kepton nods, although not entirely enthusiastically. He reaches into the folds of his blue velvet robe and produces what looks like a sheet of holographic paper. He places this on the desk in front of himself. “The act is not your typically act, but you will understand once you see a performance.”

Norton, of course, had done all his research. He knew that The ICE was not small time. He knew that one typically did not just walk into The Sparkle Sky Talent Agency with dog and pony shows, or small acts. Only the best acts would do for The ICE, and he was confident that his would meet the criteria.

“So, Mr. Kepton, tell me about your act, and how they could possibly serve the discriminating tastes of the passengers of The ICE?”

Norton smiles and settles back into the depths of the chair. If it had not been created specifically to handle his bulk, it would have groaned ominously.

“It’s an aerial act. Meet the Duchess.” He leans forward, lightly touching the paper in front of him. A tiny lavender shooting star leaps from the page and hovers at eye level. “Now the Viscount and the Palatine, if you please.” An emerald green and a crimson star join the lavender one. Norton whispers something quietly to the lights and they begin to swirl and twirl about each other. “Now the Baronet and the Dame please.” Yellow and orange stars leap off the page and join the others in an aerial ballet, dancing to music that slowly becomes audible. As the music becomes louder, the lights become larger, more than just points of light, they become fairy royalty. Fairy princes and princesses.

It is only later that The Kevin realizes that as the fairies become larger, Mr. Norton Kepton shrinks smaller and smaller, until he is the size of an unremarkable man.

"The agent asks, 'and what do you call an act like that?' 'The Aristocrats!'"

(This short story is from the Seattle NaNoWriMo 1K Thursday challenge. I had to use the beginning and ending sentences and write a story that fit.

The fish pictures I drew on one of my last trips down to OHSU.

I'd had a really bad day. I mean, it was about as bad as they come. I'd gotten lost in Vancouver Washington on my way down to OHSU. I was supposed to drop a UFC and have a blood draw, which was fine, but then I got lost. I never get lost, not like I did. I couldn't remember my husband's work number. The one he's had for 10 years. It was bad. Really bad. Everthing just seemed to suck. They didn't even have rooms at the hotel we usually stay. I was a total and complete wreck.

But that night, to console myself, while I was eating dinner, I got out my pad of paper and my pencil pod and pretended that I was a famous artist from Seattle. I was a famous artist and I just drew. My husband found me a hotel room before it got too dark to see, and I of course got lost on the way there. But it was ok, because I was a famous artist... Play acting and denial are useful tools...)

Poetry Wednesday

These haiku are all inspired by my experiences with Cushing's. Hopefully the words today will paint the picture.

8/15/06
tossing and turning
insomnia is my bane
elusive slumber

REALLY PISS ME OFF!
Cushing's makes me so cranky
looks like the High's here

Look! It's 4 AM
the time between day and night
wish I was sleeping

UFCs crucial
for tyranny of the jug
pee into the hat

8/24/06
swollen abdomen
told that I'm not fat enough
a Cushie's heart break

8/31/06
My head is pounding
moving fast than I thought
tomorrow at noon

I'm wired that way
random thought not nearly so
I'm weird that way

freaker or tweaker
like I'm all spun out on speed
too much cortisol

9/30/06
my head cracks open
thoughts spill out like brilliant leaves
what was I saying?

10/12/06
tumor crescendos
narcoleptic butterfly
laying me out cold

10/18/06
platypus are rare
can't possibly exist here
look at me right now

The Art of Distraction
We know is how magicians work their magic, how they misdirect our attention so they can razzle-dazzle us. We also know this is how con-men work their dark arts on us as well.

I’m performing my own sort of art distraction on myself. I’m trying to fill my attention with my new novel. I’m trying to also continue to fill my time with my artwork. It’s difficult to fill your attention when you have such a short attention span. And that’s one thing I realized last night, my attention span last night has cropped. I think part of this is because I’m so distracted waiting to hear from The Tumor Board. But part is that I’m just not able concentrate. Chronic pain will do that to a person.

But I’m filling my time right now learning how to write a novel. One of the tools I’m using is The Snowflake Method by Randy Ingermanson. I’ve signed up for his zine, and I figure the man has something to teach me. I’ve been crawling the boards and forums at nanowrimo trying to learn as much as I can about character and plot development before I can start writing. I’m also making heavy use of the character sheets and other resources I found at the National Novel Finishing Month site, NaNoFiMo. It’s a spin-off site from nanowrimo, and I’ve found it very useful. I found it while digging through the forum. I think it’s worth checking out.

So, I have several of the characters, in outline form. They aren’t even line drawings. Just vague shadow forms. Need to get cracking with those cool character sheet tools I was just bragging about. But it’s just so much geek fun playing with the active forms Pookel has, with the drop down boxes, too much fun to actually get any real work done. I need to poke around on the forums and figure out how to make my main villain not cardboard and cartoon like, anymore than he has to be of course.

I don’t have a name for my novel yet. Still working on the plot out line too. I had fun with a new character tool today. Apparently you run your character through the Mary-Sue test to see how believable they are. I ran myself though it, I’m apparently not very believable as a fictional character. And they didn’t even have any of the weird Perils of Pauline plot twists I’ve had in my life. If your character has greater than 56, you need to seriously rework that character. According to one test, I personally come out with a Mary-Sue score of 110. I think it will be fun to see if there are other people out there with ridiculously high personal Mary-Sue scores.

It’s kind of funny, that November 1st deadline, when there is no writing permitted, sort of like the excitement for when I get presents and gifts. Everyone makes me wait to open those packages. I don’t’ care who that package is for, it needs to be opened, NOW!!!!! No taking it home to be opened later, open it NOW!!! I’m such a child. “Whadja get? Whadja get? Whadja get? I wanna KNOW!!!”

Speaking of it’s, I need to figure out once and for all the difference between its and it’s. I’m just going to have to get a yellow sticky and stick it to my monitor. That and the difference between affect and effect. I have no idea why those just won’t stay in my brain.

Well, I think I am going to go work on my latest painting. Ok, I have no idea if I can call it a painting if I use pastel oil sticks, but since I use mixed media, the pastel oil sticks and water color I call it a painting. Of course, I might just do the back ground in oil sticks… I suppose it doesn’t matter as long as I’m the artiste and I’m the one doing it. I can call it a painting if I so choose.

(and WooT! I'm Exalted with Frostwolf Clan! My son's so jealous.. and I’m back to being Stone Guard. I really wish I could go on some serious raids. I can do some grinding, but anything serious is out of the question for now. )

Today's art I call "Coffee with Capt'n Jack" It's for my favorite Banded Pirate Chiropractor in OR... Graphite

Crash so soon

I don't know if anyone else with Cushing’s is able to predict when their tumor shuts off, and I don't know how severe their fall is.

I have degrees of shut-down, and falls. Typically total shutdown happens at 1:30 AM, but I've had 4 shutdowns now that were not Dex induced at about 1:00 and one at 10:00. (Told you I journal everything) The hardest ones I will have the feeling that I'm absolutely smashed out drunk, unstable, slurring word, not able to walk a straight line, not coordinated. Well, less coordinated than usual anyway.

The first time this ever happened to me I was about 28, and it woke up out of a dream where I was at a party. I thought I just dreamed a powerful drinking dream.. but that's one reason I know I've been Cushing’s for a very long time. That was the summer I gained 50 pounds in 2 months.

After being told that my headaches are nothing more than narcotic induced rebounds, and that I was a drug addict, I decided that I had to journal when I use them as well. (don't tell me you didn't see that one coming)

I need pain pills two days before the tumor shuts off, the day it shuts off, and then the day after it shuts off. This is when it gets really bad, like ER trip bad, usually.

The noise gets the loudest, typically, just in the couple of days building to a shutdown too.

Right, anyway, The Noise started getting really bad a few days ago, and I started taking pain pills a couple days ago. I popped High a couple days a go. Well, not terribly high, more like “Normal” than High, but I was able to get things done. Like the dishes. And most of three loads of laundry. Small victories.

I know in the WLS community we have NSV, our Non-Scale Victories. I think we have to have something like this too. Something that we recognize as victories over our Cushing’s. I know that part of the problem is that for some of us we just physically cannot do many things that we need to, like the laundry or the dishes. Or things we want to do, like go shopping or stay awake to watch a TV show.

My tumor shut off this afternoon at 1:30 while I was grocery shopping with my husband. I hoped that I would have an extra day of being High, but I didn't. My last Crash was Monday, and here it is Saturday. I did have two days of being High though. But 2 days of terrible headaches, 2 days taking pain pills. Pretty much like I expected, given my pain journal.

My tumor shut off at 1:30, the small coma, the peu de mort, the little death, lasted just shy four hours. Gotta love Babel fish!

I don’t know how much longer this can last. I don’t know how much longer I can go. Monday morning I’m going to page Chris and see if there are any answers for me.

But darkness calls. I cannot resist the warm embrace.

Hurray! It’s almost NANOWRIMO time!

The most magical month of all! Okay, so that might be a little hyperbole. But not by much.... I mean, not only do we have nanowrimo, but we have Halloween, Thanksgiving, Yule and Christmas! Then New Years! I’m hoping that I get to get cured of Cushing’s too, which will make it even more magical and special!

For those of you who don’t know: National Novel Writing Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30.

I found out about it last year from my friend Lori, about 5 hours from the start. I wasn’t able to finish, mostly due to my life imploding from the Cushing’s. This was pre-diagnosis.

Mind you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish my November Masterpiece, but I’m going to give it a go. Dunno yet what it’ll be about, haven’t figured out a plot yet. Heck, I haven’t even gotten as far as a subject let alone plotting. No idea on characters, or setting or anything… I haven’t a thing to wear! I’d better get cracking. I think it might help me to do an outline, if only it helps me know where I’m going.

I got my e-mail today letting me know that it’s almost time. Pretty exciting. Tomorrow I am going to attend a workshop at my local library for short story writing. It will get me out of the house, and that will be good for me. It will poke my brain, hopefully stirring up some activity, rubbing those last two brain cells and warming them up. Yes, I know, short story writing and novel writing are only similar in that they are writing. I don’t care. Gonna go.

There is one theory that really good novels are written by short story writers. They cut out all the fat, cut out all the extraneous and superfluous words that clutter the landscape. Others will argue that it is exactly those seemingly additional and irrelevant that add texture and shading, shadow and nuance to the picture. Sort of like the difference between a line drawing and a fully rendered model I suppose. Each beautiful in their own way. Just a matter of taste.

Still no word. STILL NO WORD!!!!! AHHHHH!!! How much longer are they going to make us wait? I know, I know, patience is a virtue. I know. I just have to be patient one more day. That’s all. Just one more day. That’s all. Just one more day. I can do just about anything for one day. If I don’t get The Call today, I can call Chris tomorrow. I just can’t call her and bug her before then. Oh sure, I WANT TO CALL HER NOW AND IS THERE AN ANSWER NOW? NOW? IS THERE ONE NOW??? POKE POKE POKE

But that probably will not endear me to her, probably not at all. So, all I can do, I try to patiently bide my time. Drink my ginger ale, take my zofran, and try to find something to amuse myself with, short attention span and all.

Oh, my neurologist fired me yesterday. I’ve been having issues with the dope-o-max he put me on. He thinks my only problem is that I’m a drug addict. That I’m having rebound headaches.... of course, that makes those the MOST POWERFUL DRUGS EVER GIVEN since they gave me rebound headaches before I ever took them. Yup, they are THAT powerful. Idiot neuro. Besides, any competent doctor should know that 40 to 60% of all pituitary tumors do not show up on standard MRIs. Most pit tumors are smaller than the standard 5mm slice they use in MRIs… Anyway, he fired me, and my regular doc is none too happy about referring me to another neruo.

Think I should just call every day and ask whether there’s been a cancelization at the idiot neuro’s office? But the only problem with that plan is that I would then have to go into see him. I seriously doubt that I would change his mind about my headaches. The whooshing will never stop. The headaches will never stop, at least not until I get this damned tumor removed.

But his opinion made me take a hard look at when and how I’m using my pain killers, so it wasn’t all for naught. I get the worst headaches in the couple of days just before my tumor shuts off, the day it shuts off, and typically the following day. The pattern has been that once a month it gets so very bad that I have to go to the ER for pain meds, but since my cycle runs about three weeks normally, that would fit, just about.

Anyway, I hope to get THAT call today! That call that will end this ride from hell.

Today's image is from Snoqualmie Falls, here in Washington State. I took this pix a little down river, and then did some digital manipulation. I call simply, Rock at Falls. If you ever get a chance to go, you really should.

Ranting and raving.... About video games…

First off, so far, this is not one of my bits of art work. I pulled this directly off the World of Warcraft Player vs. Player (WoW PvP) site. I just wanted to make that clear. Also, I mostly play a female Troll, not a male, so that also needs to be cleared up.

I MISS WoW!!! http://www.worldofwarcraft.com Whine! Whine! Whine! Whine! Oh yeah, whine some more. Stupid Cushing's. When I'm really High I can't play because I get frustrated and want to throw things at the idiots in the battle grounds who just don't understand a thing about tactics or strategy. Heh, my cortisol gets so High that I get... well a bit unreasonable. Okay a whole lot unreasonable. But the other thing when I get High I want to physically do things, like yard work. Or run around in circles like a crazy woman, but that’s a different story.


http://www.worldofwarcraft.com/pvp/rewards-mounts.html

When I’m Low or on the Low end of Normal, I can’t play WoW because it sucks up all my cortisol. Part of the same reason I can’t drink. Well, I don’t want to drink when I’m Low, but when I’m Low or Low Normal, I need to conserve all my cortisol.

I just really miss WoW. I feel like I’m never gonna get my Black raptor. Like I’m never gonna make Lieutenant General (rank 11). And I’m never gonna get my Black War Raptor. It sure doesn’t help that I lost 2 ranks. I’m back to being a First Sergeant. Whine, whine, whine. I’m not gonna get my PvP gear, and I’m not gonna get my Beast master gear. Whine, whine, whine.

I play on Thorium Brotherhood, a role playing server. I originally started on a PvP server. It got too much for me with all the ganking. I just couldn’t handle it. I know, I know, big whiny baby, gotta play on a care-bear server. I don’t care. I have trouble some days with the mobs that I don’t need to worry about being ganked. And I feel bad ganking people in return. I just feel bad. Now, the Battle Grounds, that’s different. Everyone is ready, everyone is prepared. It’s sort of like going paint-balling without the bruises, and without getting my acrylic nails destroyed by the paint balls. I don’t know what it is, but the paint in the paint-balls simply dissolves my acrylic nails. Not that I currently have acrylic nails… and not that I currently have the energy to go paint-balling… but when I do, and when I do… well, you get the picture.

Anyway, my younger sister prefers to play on a PvP server. I don’t remember off the top of my head which server she’s on right now. One of the relatively newer servers, about the same age as Thorium Brotherhood. She’s got a hunter as well, but that’s all I’m telling. For now.

I don’t play FPS games. Those are First Person Shooters. I can’t handle the video aspect. It will give me a headache and make me want to barf even without being on a Low. I’ve never been able to handle the video aspect, and I don’t hold much hope that I’ll ever be able to handle it. My older sister and my mom on the other hand, they really like FPS games. My mom went into her local video game store and was looking for the latest and greatest FPS that could be played stand alone. She doesn’t have the best luck with internet, being somewhat rural, and more than somewhat... well, not competent with technology... (She once deleted all the .dll files in her windows directory because she never used them. If you don’t understand why that’s a baaaad thing, that’s ok too.)

Anyway, she went to the video game store and wanted buy the latest and greatest FPS. The uber game boys thought it was for her grandson, but when she explained that it was for HER and that she’d worked her way through all these other FPS titles… they now think she’s the coolest little old lady on the face of the planet. Little do they know… little do they know… muahhaa hhaaa hhaaa

I really hope that I’m better by the time Burning Crusades comes out. I’m not sure exactly when it will be released. You know game release dates. We are promised one thing, but then they actually ship on another date. Or worse, they ship on the date the marketing weenies promise, and we get a buggy product. Same with the entire software ecosphere.

Oh, and don’t even get me started about Spore! http://www.spore.com If you want to make me cry, start talking about how they have slipped their ship date, AGAIN!!!! Spore comes from EA games, the makers of The Sims, The Sims2 http://thesims2.ea.com/ and of course MULE! My Sims2 town is almost completely populated by aliens. Woot! I don’t have the latest expansion pack, but not being gainfully employed has put a crimp in my playtime.

Lately The Sims2 is easier for me to play than anything else. I do play lots of puzzle games on zone.msn.com. Well, maybe not lots, but that’s more my speed than anything else. I find them meditative. I always have. My son, Mr. Gameboy-oh has always been in awe of the scores that I rack-up, but I don’t think they are terribly impressive. He has beat me once at Chuzzle though. One of the high-lights of his life, the day he beat his mom at a puzzler game…

Heh, sounds more like I’m a teen-aged boy-oh rather than some respectable matron. But I suppose that’s part of the point, isn’t it.

Waiting for the Call 10-6-06
Today Monica and I are having our cases presented before the Tumor Board. It's sort of like we have turned in all our tests, we've presented our case, argued and defended our side, researched and presented for examination for the most rigorous test we have ever presented for. And now it is out of our hands. It is like waiting for Finals, like waiting for the Masters board to meet, or the MBA. We think that after this they should just hand us another degree.

I think I won't hear anything until next Thursday. I'm dealing with an Academic institution, after all. And school is my career, if you will. They have their own pace.

And as compassionate as Dr. L is, when I call in the middle of a freaker/tweaker he's not interested in making it stop, he's only interested in getting me to TEST. How can I get to a lab and get blood drawn. Can I drive in the middle of one of these? Hell, I can hardly string a coherent sentence together and he wants me to drive to a lab. Don't get me wrong, I love Dr. L, but he is a researcher, and sometimes they have their priorities a little skewed. He told me that I was going to hate him, since his priority was to find out what was going on with me while I was in the middle of on of those episodes, not to make it stop.

So, I can really appreciate it when folks are tired of testing, honestly I can appreciate it!

Speaking of researchers, I'm still having mixed results with my experiments with licorice. I was able to wake up NORMAL one morning, but it seems I need to keep eating licorice throughout the day to maintain the normal status. I will continue to track my progress. Dang, this means that I better start keeping a lab book! dang it.

Yesterday just before I went to bed I had a minor crash again. Like I was moving in slow motion. It was pretty funny. I figured that if I was doing tai chi during one of these slow motion phases, it would look like I'd completely stopped! HaHa! Too funny!

Anyway, the rains seem to have returned here to the Pacific NorthWe(s)t (the "S" is silent) I went out and got a box of fire logs. I almost couldn't get the box out of the cart, and there was no way I could get it out of my trunk.

I have to get cured soon.

Good thing I have a "freakishly high amount of testosterone" in my system.

Mike is going to Idaho today to get the rest of my stuff. I won't be returning to school soon. It's a hard reality. But soon is not never. And I realize that I won’t be using my spinning wheel there. I just won’t. And besides, that dry, dry climate isn’t good for it anyway. I’ve decided that when I return, I’ll bite the bullet and get room mates. I’ll just get housing in the new housing they built. It’ will be nicer than living in the old Travel Lodge.

Hurray! The Neuro says my MRI is clean!, and there is no whooshing in my head either!

*warning* Sarcasm Alert!!

Hurray! I just got off the phone with the neuro's office, and the report from the MRI & MRV is back! They said I don't have any tumor and there is no reason there for my headaches! Party time! Wooo

Apparently, my headaches are solely caused by rebound from taking narcotics, and I need to wean myself off them. But if I don't have a pill for weeks I'm fine, and it's only when I hit a Low that I have headaches..... They couldn't explain to me why I can go for a week or more when I'm swinging High and am actually HIGH and don't need any pills and don't have any head aches (but still have the whooshing), yet still have my headaches still be caused by rebounding from the narcotics. That line of reasoning is gonna give me a head ache even though I don't have one....

They haven’t been able to explain how I’ve had rebound headaches from the narcotics from before I was prescribed the narcotics. Probably the tumor they say I don’t have is not giving me the headache…

(for those of you who are just tuning in to the fine art of diagnosing pituitary tumors, most pit tumors are small, very, very, very small. But that’s to be expected, given that the pituitary is about the size of a pea. Dunno if we are talking about a petit pea or what. But that gives you an idea of what we are talking about. Most MRIs don’t read anything smaller than 5mm, which is very large for a pit tumor. And most pit tumors don’t show up on imaging anyway. They are sort of liquid and squishy, not lending themselves to traditional imaging techniques.)

hmmm but if I don't have a tumor, how is it spilling ACTH?

Anyway, I was none to nice to the nurse. She started it. But you know what? She works for ME. And she doesn't have any way to stick me with a needle so I don't care.


When I went down to OHSU for my Dex I took the CD with the very cool entire brain image that proves that someone has a brain, so the team there has that disk.

I just looked up "rebound headache" so I suppose I shouldn't be so hard on the neuro.

http://www.dummies.com/WileyCDA/DummiesArticle/id-1757.html f some of the following signs apply to you, you're probably having rebound headaches (but be sure to see your doctor for evaluation of your problem to confirm that it's a headache and not something more serious):

* You suffer from headaches daily or every other day.

* Your pain intensifies about three hours after your last dose of medication.

* Your pain medications don't work as well as they used to.

* You take more medication, but your headaches are worse.

* You rely on more pills, and you take them more often.

* You take medication even for mild headaches, and you often try to ward off a headache by using a medication.

* You take pain relievers three to four days a week, and you average more than three tablets per day. (This depends on the kind of medication you're taking, so you'll need your doctor's advice.)

* Your pain runs the gamut from mild to moderate to horrible. Usually, the pain is a dull ache that you feel on both sides of your forehead and, sometimes, on the top or back of your head.

* Your headaches occur much more frequently.

Because you're in pain, you may use medications too often. The theory behind the rebound headache is that the overuse of drugs makes the headache rebound after your body has absorbed all of the medication. Painkillers are supposed to relieve pain, of course, but if you overuse prescription or nonprescription drugs, they can turn on you and actually cause headaches.

***

So, most of those actually do apply to me, other than taking pills for mild headaches. typically, I don't take anything for less than a 7.5 on the pain scale. I don't know if this is the way it is for most folks. My background is pretty much a 5, and I don't even bother with over the counter pills for my head. Body aches, yes, but not for my head. They won't do anything for my head, so I don't bother.

Of course, my headache started in Nov 05, so it can't get any more frequent that ALL THE TIME. And the top of the head and the back, is pretty typical for the "Cushie headache" no?

And yes, my headaches are getting worse, but over all, my Cushing's is getting worse.

I know the doses I take seem large. I guess the normal person would be dropped like they'd been darted, but two percaets don't even phase me. I'm pretty sure that if I gave my Spud half the dose I take, he'd be rendered unconscious for week. Spud out weighs me by 25 pounds. When I go to the ER for the head aches, the amount of duladin makes the nurses double check because it is such a huge dose. And again, they have to give me two doses.

But I'm not taking pills all day every day. Or even every other day.

I suppose I ought to cut the man some slack. Not cutting the snotty assistant any slack though.

Of course, when I next see him, I'll have to bring a print out of this, and with point/counter point.

It's just hard to swallow the rebound headache arguement when I know how many pills I take, when I take them, and the pattern I take them. Point/counter point....

Freeking/Tweaking in the ER...

I haven't been around much, I've been in a deep Low. Deep Low. Had to go the the ER twice in as many days for the head aches, and spent most of the rest of the time asleep. I did lurk some, but it was easier to just sleep.

I still had my Picc in in from my 32 hour blood draws and my CSS, and Chris wanted me to go in Saturday to the DR and have them pull it, but instead I slept. I just figured that since I'd be seeing my doctor, she could just pull the line. No big deal. I could have pulled the line myslef, but I didn't have the stuff to disolve the adheasive. I just have such thin skin that pulling the bandage and tape will tear my skin. You know the drill... So I went to my doc's for my headache checkup. I needed refills for my narcotics. She only wanted to focus on the imitrex. I tried to focus her on my special brand of headaches. I think I finally, FINALLY got through to her. My special brand of headaches are steroid withdrawal headaches. At least that is the working theory according to Dr. L.

He tells me that my headaches will all go away will go away once away once my tumor goes away.

The thing is... when will the tumor go away...

So anyway, I go to my doc's to have my Picc line removed, but she sort of freadked out, went "icky" sent me to the hospital. I have no idea why docs do this. It's a simply matter of just removing the tape and just pulling the line. And pulling. And pulling.... and pulling. Then putting pressure. Not a big deal. ...

Sigh.

Dropped off my precriptions, and headed off to the hospital. the nusrse in the ER wasn't sure what to do with me, since folks don't normally come to the ER for this. So she consulted with another nurse who said that they didn't do that. More calm waiting until I asl the next nuse, in a good-naturedly way what I was supposed to do, since it needed it come out. She said that I needed to produce paper work from OHSU or something. She waundered off, and I start feeling off... I should have known that I was starting to tweek.

I called Chris. I was amazed that I got right through to her... By this time I'm in the teeth of the freeker/tweeker.... they thought I was psycotic, until they got the paperwork from OHSU, and spoke with Chris... I know they thought I was psycotic because they moved me to my very own darkend waiting room where I would be more comfortable by myself. It didn't help that I was flailing my hand and shaking my head and pacing and muttering.... alteraining by hugging my purse to my body tightly (it's a poodle purse) crying, muttering, rocking, and shaking my head... The soda machine wouldn't take my dollar bills and I NEEDED water. I get DI when I freak/tweek...

I called Mike when I was back in my private waiting room. He said it was the worst freeker/tweeker episode I've had.

Anyway, I finally got back to a room, and finally stopped tweeking. The ER doc came to see me while I was coming down and he was looking over all the paperwork and chart notes they faxed from OHSU. He made an interesting comment... "So, it looks like you are heading to surgery here in October"

I continued to come down, to the point of near passing out. I came home and slept for a good five hours.

Low all weekend. Swing high for a few hours, not even enough time to feel normal if you will, then I freak/tweek. It just isn't fair. I don't know if I'm back Low, or if I'm going to be back High in the morning. I have no idea any more.

I'm so tired of this.

Some one tell me they freak/tweek, just so I don't feel so alone....