The Misadventures of Kimby

 

Isn’t it the truth – thinking that because you’re not seeing it, you’re not hearing it, you’re not experiencing it NOW that it isn’t there any longer? Life can make you a fool.

I had thought earlier, just how did I become this Zen goddess, this Yoda like creature of calm? It’s been a journey these last several years and mostly, the last two that have yielded this new sense of “calm”.

If you’ve been following my LJ (and God knows, you probably have not) you would know that I’ve struggled the last several years (starting in around 2006) with various health issues. It started with some “female” issues and then I started to develop terrible pain and a feeling of “swelling” in my legs. I became even more fatigued than I had ever been. As time went on, I started to have odd symptoms – my limbs turning colors (red/purple/white), pain in my hands, numbness in my fingers, problems with vision, bleeding into my intestines (defecating pints of blood), thyroid problems, worsening back problems, etc.

Later, I found out that I had a fibroid tumor in my uterus the size of a large grapefruit. But this is all old hat.

After an embolization, surgery and many, many different doctors giving many, many different theories, I went to the Mayo Clinic. They confirmed many things wrong but didn’t do any thing to help. Again, old hat.

I’ve been on pain medication now for at least two years which has helped. I’m still in a lot of pain daily but at least I’m not crawling into work and crying the first 2 hours of every day from the pain in my hands, legs and face. I’m back on seizure meds and now I’m taking an anti-depressant for my chronic pain. I really think it’s my (very cool) neurologists way of saying “I think you need this to help you emotionally”. I’m convinced I’m doing SO MUCH BETTER.

To be fair to myself, yes I am doing much better. It’s been a journey, as I said and it’s been more bearable with pain meds, my seizure meds, a lot of soul and spiritual searching, a lot of coming to terms calmly and of course, a lot of thankfulness. I’ve learned these two years that I’m strong. I’ve learned to cope in healthier ways, not the healthiest because I am kind of an emotional eater. *chuckle* But as I tell my dr, I’m celibate so at least I can have chocolate, right? She doesn’t agree.

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Mirrored from "The Misadventures of Kimby".

It’s funny how much sympathy customers have for me today since I sound like I drank a 50 gallon bucket of Jim Beam and smoked about 100 cartons of smokes. People keep calling me “sweetie” and thanking me profusely for doing my job. I wish every day were like this. And, I sound kind of sexy … if you like chicks who sound like 40 year old meth-heads who’ve hit brick walls full force with their vocal cords.

I promised to fill you all in on the “shenanigans” that took place the weekend before last. I’m feeling a little less hot on the subject but I can tell you that 1) I got “tow-up-from-the-floor-up” 2) I (at first) involuntarily made out with “TD” and someone else I hardly know. *blush* This lead to someone in the restroom (because “TD” followed us to the unisex restroom) yelling “some of us would like to use the restroom!”.

After this incident, I ended up arm wrestling with a GORGEOUS guy with tats and then we “sparred” in the parking lot.

Did I mention I was “tow up”? *sigh* I shouldn’t drink in public, it just leads to me wrestling men in public. This of course is usually entertaining to others but still, it’s a little odd after the fact.

After the Friday night of strange events, I did have a nice outing with “TD”. We went to an art fair in Tempe and each bought some beautiful watch peices. We had a very nice lunch and even shared dishes. I think mostly because I ordered a pizza (small one) which “TD” graciously helped me finish (most of). I ate some of his olives. He ordered the Mediterranean plate – apparently we both really like Greek food.

Otherwise, not much else going on. “C” and I went out this past Friday after I spent a week sick but working. We had a few drinks but nothing exciting happened. I’ll expound on any additional thoughts … later.

God, I had some seriously F*CKED UP dreams this weekend. I dreamt about my family, I dreamt of disembodied head-bearing torso’s doing sick things, I dreamt of my old HS and zombies that eat their own flesh. *sigh* Was it the Nyquil? The Depakote? Am I just insane?

*shrug*

Back to work shortly. *jams to Falco “Where Are You Now?”*

- k

Mirrored from "The Misadventures of Kimby".

I really need to do an update on the last two weekends as they've been mind-blowingly ... different. Very debaucherous (for me) and I feel like I should share the love.

Here's a pre-view ... ( Collapse )

- k

I've been on Twitter a lot lately and boy, it's an experience. When I first joined in '09 it was "what are you doing?" but now it's (de)volved into "what are you wearing?". It's like one big text orgy or maybe it's just the people I talk to. Is there any wonder? *wink*

But I'm here to talk about my brilliant observation about Twitter lately which is that people really, really want to be "popular" or liked.

Let's talk about "ME".

I'm sure every decade has had it's share of "Me" fads. We have the "Me" generation which I'm told is made up of any one born in the 70s, 80s and 90s which means ME as well. We (those born during those decades) have reasonably become fascinated by the "self" and the exploration of it. It makes good psychological sense that we would, as technology and medicine progress, want to make the most of our youth and discover "our selves". I say "our selves" because it seems to me that as we go through life discovering what makes us tick, we find there are many selves lurking below the surface. Again, with technology advancing, we are now able to entertain as many interests as we like, meet many new people without leaving home and present to the world as many versions of ourselves as we like.

I think I'm straying off point ... ( Collapse )

- k

I am starting to think I just need brain breaks to really feel more alive and awake in the evenings. I came home tonight and just sat in bed with Artie, dozing slightly and that seems to have helped.

Now to the meat of my motivating post ... here I am, 31 and single. I know you're sick of hearing it but HEY, I'm sick of saying it!! I've met 3 guys in real-life lately who seem in varying degrees to be interested in me. All three are very nice and interesting in their own very special ways. ( Collapse )

Wow if I had balls, I would kick myself in them.

- k

Doesn't the subject say it all? Good night folks!

No, I'm kidding. Things are, well quite boring here for the most part. The biggest news lately has been my extreme fatigue and recent doctor visit. She took the usual battery of blood tests when I indicated I'd been having a more elevated heart rate than normal, chest pain, hair loss, night sweats, sleeplessness, extreme fatigue and moodiness (to say the least). I thought "thyroid, of course" but she said she thought hormones and maybe ovarian failure. EEEK. ( Collapse )

- k

It’s funny to me that I come down with a respiratory infection RIGHT before I see the doctor to have my thyroid checked. How convenient? I always think that my doctor finds that sort of thing suspect because I know I would.

Well, I’m off to bed after some time of twisting my brains about what type of mythology or back ground I want to give my character. I’ve decided (for the moment) to try to come up with a back story but she’s not entirely human which made me veer more toward a mythological like back ground. I’m torn but there’s too much to think about now. I have to get to bed to be some what functional for my dr appointment. Disappointed I spent my long holiday weekend sick.

Night all!

- k

Mirrored from "The Misadventures of Kimby".

Another quicky, free style poem.

Saturday, February 19, 2011 10:15:29 PM

it is calling your name, this thing of darkness
amidst the flowers, funeral finery and fillegree
this voice emerges from hollows, from corners
it whispers to you with the smell of rotted leaves
mildew on it's soft breath on your neck

can you hear her, whistling wind
through the trees outside but holding on
tight to your skirts - turning, turning, turning round you look for her
down haunted halls, in quiet rooms
through smudged, tearful eyes you look

"here i am" she says
you see nothing but deep black waters
unstirred by a hundred years of silence
"i'm waiting" she says
you can feel her here, like a cold hand on your ankle

stretch away, lips contorted into shrieks
but a throat, cut with invisible wire and unable to speak
you moan silently as she calls to you from below
"here i am" she says
"here i am"
"here i am"

Saturday, February 19, 2011 10:22:21 PM

I've been kicking around writing an entry for a few days now (and had started on quite a good one when my lap top decided deleting the text would be a HOOT) but haven't had quite the energy required to do so. But it's an overcast Saturday, the tunes are blaring via my pink Hello Kitty earbuds and I'm well rested.


So, what's been on this mind these past weeks? Mostly bodily discomfort. This discomfort, woe discomfort, has robbed me of rest and energy, rendering my mind nearly incapable of rational neigh intelligible thought or statement. But here I am, finally some what rested, a bit weary in heart and having made an appointment with my doctor. God, there's no disappointment like the disappointment a doctor can deliver when you're feeling like the gum under King Kong's shoe. Wait, or is that a crushed islander?


*does brief samba* ( Collapse )

- k