catandmuse.com

I am going to post a gripe.

I may be whining, bitching and/or complaining, but it’s my blog and my perogative.

I am sick and tired of feeling sick and tired.  I am even more sick and tired of seeing doctors and getting no help, no diagnosis.  I am at the end of my rope.  I don’t even know what to do or where to go from here.

If it weren’t for the fact that this most recent doctor stated directly to me that he “believes I have something very real happening” and that it is not in my head, then I think that I would, at this point, be inclined to start believing it to all be in my head.

Unfortunately, this specialist said outright that he cannot help me.  He wants to but he doesn’t know how, it is beyond what he is capable of.  Wow.  That is frighteningly human of a doctor to admit to that.

He also informed me that after a month of testing my glucose levels and having been diagnosed with diabetes, he is retracting his original diagnosis because even without medication my numbers look good.  He said I am riding the fence between being diabetic and NOT being diabetic and that I need to keep my diet, weight and exercise in check, as well as occasionally testing myself just to see how my sugar level is.

So, not being diabetic is good news.  But it also kind of sets me back a notch as far as a diagnosis.  Now there is nothing to blame my symptoms on and I have to start all over.

I honestly am feeling a bit defeated.  Even the doc doesn’t know where to send me.  He suggested I call Wash. U and see if they can recommend someone that has more ability to “experiment” with my symptoms.  In other words, he has no idea.  If he doesn’t know, then how the hell should I know.  I don’t know if I can continue.  I don’t even know where to begin.

I suppose, as much as it sounds like I am just feeling sorry for myself to say this, that I will just wait until something more dreadful happens and in the meanwhile just try to deal with feeling like shit all the time.

Meh.

I just thought I’d stop in and say hello.

This has been a hell of a year.

I’ve become a mom and all the glory and glamour that entails.  I have been jumping through hoops to try to find out what is up with my kid’s digestive system and allergies.  I have been feeling the pressure of new parenthood on my marriage, my daily life, and my self in general.  I have been hoping for time to pursue a photography career, but not quite been able to make time the way I’d like to.  I have been blogging (harhar).

So, you get it, this has been a crazy year so far.  And it’s not over yet!  Thankfully.  AS IF I need the years to pass any faster than they already do.

My point, you ask? Now I am sick.  No, not just sick and tired.  Actually sick.  Ill.  I am awaiting some bloodwork, some has been done already, and waiting for answers.  It is looking like a variety of problems that may or may not include: low thyroid, low potassium, kidney issues of some variety, and leaning toward type 2 diabetes.  This does not appeal to me.  Nothing on this list actually appeals to me. Although, I must say, if I knew what was wrong then perhaps I could fix it and then feel better.  That is what I’m looking forward to.

I suppose motherhood has been harder on me than I suspected…I mean, I expected some gray hairs (no worries, got those, too!) but I apparently get a bonus health of an 80 year old package! wOOt!

Kidding, of course.  I am expecting to be fine because in all honesty and humor aside, the one thing motherhood has given me for certain that trumps all this other medical b.s. is a reason to be here for a long, long time and a reason to be healthy, healthier, perhaps even healthiest…or whatever that means.  In a nut shell…I am not worried because I am not going anywhere but right here participating in my kid growing into an adult.

I was stubborn before, but I think I may have just taken it to an all new level.

Think healthy thoughts for me, say prayers, send healing vibes…whatever you do, it’s all welcome.  Thanks!

It sucks.  Crying and fussing non-stop, feeling bad that you can’t really make it better, not sleeping.  It sucks.  I wish I were anywhere but here right now.

because I don’t know how to.

I have been the worst excuse for a mom today.  I have no patience, I have no sympathy.  I just want her to shut the hell up.  I want to leave and go somewhere quiet where no one expects anything from me because I do NOT know how to make things better.

I hope I am not the first mom to feel this way…

Kira is only 5 months old, her teeth hurt and she is a little stuffy (again).  Even though I have the wherewithal to know she can’t help being fussy and crabby, it hasn’t changed the fact that I am fed up with her today.

I realize that by saying this, I sound like a total ass and a horrible parent…believe me, I feel like that, too.  I am sort of hoping that, perhaps, I am just more vocal about this than some other moms and that it is perfectly normal.

I actually had to walk away and let her scream today.  I cried later, feeling like a jackass for being so impatient with my completely dependent infant that is relying on me to fix what is bothering her…instead, I walk away feeling overwhelmed and a little sorry for myself.  Hindsight, I should be feeling sorry for her…both for her teeth hurting and for having such a selfish, impatient mom.

I think I am going to go read my previous post to remind me that tomorrow is another day and then I will spend my evening trying to convince myself that I am fallible and human and that she will still love me despite my shortcomings.  Let’s hope that works…

I wish I was capable of filling this post with wit and humor, but I am bummed out about my kittehs.

I miss them.  I worry about them.  I need my kitteh’s.  At least a kitteh fix.  I am having serious withdrawals.  It has been three weeks since I last saw them and there isn’t much chance of me getting to visit with them anytime in the next 3 weeks. 

Let’s just hope I can endure the withdrawal symptoms, they are a real bitch.

Cybr gets home in about 5 days, well probably closer to 6 if I actually counted the hours…as much as I miss him, well, I am still not counting hours.  Only days.

There is so much going on and all feel like doing is taking a nap…

If you are totally depressed, then perhaps you can stop by Baby Barie and get a laugh at my expense.

This is officially my last full day in Hong Kong.  Technically, I will wake up in Hong Kong tomorrow; however, just with enough time to get cleaned up, take care of the fuzzy kids, say good-bye to Cybr and head to the airport.

I hate that I have likely been such a downer lately, but this is truly a sad event for me. No matter how I may try to mask it, it shows through me as though I were transparent.  I am really, really not good at keeping a poker face…seriously, if I think it or feel it then it will show up across my face or, in this case, in my writing.

Sorry for being a drag, but I am not good with good-byes.

I will try to keep this one short, as I still have more Hong Kong goodies up my sleeve for this blog.  You can expect more photos from Hong Kong that I haven’t had time to post and you can expect a few transitional posts that discuss life here vs. life there as I make the change.  After that, well…I will likely reformat the whole site and who knows what my musings will entail.

For now, so long Hong Kong.  I hope to see you again…

Kitties are bad.  And that’s all I have to say about it…

Okay, not really.  It seems that Francois and Burrito have regained their appetites, although they are not 100% better.  Since they are eating, they are refueled and very active…well, at least Burrito is.  Francois slept on my head most of the night, although strangely enough that doesn’t interrupt my sleep and as a matter of fact normally enhances my sleep quality.

Anyway, Burrito cried and ran across the bed a gazillion times last night.  At one point I thought, “good he is feeling better” and admittedly by about 4(ish) a.m. I thought, “too bad he’s not still sick, he is a good kitty when he’s sick”.   Of course I really don’t want him to be sick, I just want him to be a good kitteh.

To add to that, as Cybr mentioned, Chini the Brave Dog (NOT!!) was inconsolably upset due to a wicked thunderstorm that rocked through here in the very wee hours of the morning.  Let’s just say that I watched the sun begin to rise whilst I was trying to console her.  She is the biggest baby about thunder and lightning, she always has been.

It seems as though all the kitties are eating, although no one is pooping yet.  On the bright side, I haven’t had to clean up shit inside the house for more than 24 consecutive hours.  The vet said that is normal and the poop will come as long as there is no vomiting.

For the purpose of discussing something other than poop and sleep deprivation, go check out a couple of sites I keep up with:

Cybr has posted another new comic at A Little Scary

and

Meesh of Meeshalicious is a newbie blogger and she makes me laugh…not to mention, I have been meaning to put her in my blogroll for, like, EVER!  Well, I finally got around to it.

This is why no one has heard from me in days.  I have a touch of the stomach flu.  It sucks.  I blame Cybr.  Now I have to play with my poop, too, and I am not so happy about that.

I managed to avoid playing with poo when I swallowed 6 thumbtacks, yet here I am having to play with poo due to gastroenteritis.  BAH!  That really gripes me!

What an odd day.

I just selected a plastic bowl from my collection of pseudo-tupperware that I could consider to be disposable.

Why, you ask?

So that my husband can poop in it.  Not because we are into that sort of thing. No.  Simply because my husband requires a stool sample to determine the cause for his chronic diarrhea and without a bowl the sample would be a)contaminated by who knows what may lie inside the depths of our toilet and b)impossible to reach to collect a sample from without entirely too much contact.

Disgusting, isn’t it?

He has been instructed that once the sample is collected, to bag the bowl inside the dark colored bag and take directly to the garbage bin outside.  I am never, ever to see the bowl again.  Ever.

I have committed to volunteer work every Friday for the SPCA. It is work with a capital “K”. It is extremely physical work and it is time sensitive and I do not get paid except for a sense of accomplishment on a good day.

I encountered a mom with her two children during the trapping this past Friday that became unnecessarily confrontational. She clearly has more problems than I. I was polite initially and for quite some time into the conversation…until she pushed one too many buttons. Did I mention I am taking a double dose of progesterone right now?!? I am a hormonal hand grenade just waiting for somebody to pull the pin, which she did.

Allow me to set the scene…I have busted my ass placing three trap cages along a long stretch of the harbor. Hauling these heavy cages from my flat all the way down the harbor and heaving them over the fence bearing most of their weight so not to do the cages harm, as they are on loan from SPCA. I climb over the fence, set the trap, place the food, toss a bit of stinky tuna out onto the rocks so all the cats get a whiff and come out to investigate, climb back over, wait patiently for a cat to enter the trap so that I can climb back over, cover the cage, lift it and a cat over the fence gently enough not to hurt the cat or cage while this heavy contraption is flailing about in a panic. I do this times three. As I mentioned, it is very physical work.

All the while I have about an hour and a half to trap 1 to 3 cats and transport them farther than walking distance to the Mui Wo ferry. I cannot start earlier or the cats will sit in the heat and bake, therefore I am stuck with a limited time frame to complete the task at hand. I cannot bring them indoors because they are wild and panicked. They can spray urine or spread contagious cat disease if I bring them into my home, eliminating any possibility of catching them earlier.

So, I have set the traps and my assistance has arrived to help watch the traps and complete the task when along the harbor comes a mom with her twin girls that I would guess to be about 15-18 months old. They are darling and are intrigued with the cats lingering around the trap. This is fine until they begin reaching through the fence at the cats. I let it go for a few minutes thinking that they will leave soon, I mean what mom in their right mind would risk wild cats scratching their toddler? Right? Wrong. Five minutes pass and then ten…I am losing my patience.

Read the rest of this entry »