Category Archives: Fine Whines

So Now.


Well, I’m better than I was the other day, and I wanted to say so because really, who wants their online journal to be nothing but whining?  Mostly whining is okay, though, because this is where I go to write in order to get stuff off my chest so I can move on.  Yeah, it’s demented that I need to do this in a public forum, but I think I’m probably a closet exhibitionist or something.  Can’t help it.

And really, it doesn’t matter much anymore because I’ve neglected this blog long enough that if I ever had any regular readers, they stopped coming a long time ago.  I keep leaving it here, though, because I always imagine eventually I’ll hit another word well and need to put them somewhere, so why not here?

I gotta say, though.  Jeremi is at work [yay!  He missed yesterday because of lots and lots of shit.  He had an accident right before the bus got here, and then spent the day in bed.  Which sucks for me because it means I’m stuck in the house.]  The bad thing about having to get up early to make sure J gets to work, though, is that I am SO not a morning person.  I hate mornings.  I would boycott them if I had a choice.  I’d much rather stay up late and sleep late.

Which sucks doubly, because no matter what I do, I end up staying up late regardless of what time I need to get up, and how much sleep I’ve had in the last few days.  It’s ridiculous, really.  If I stay up all day today, I still won’t be able to sleep before midnight [and probably not until 1 or 2].  But I’m suffering from lack of sleep, because I got up at 6:00 AM this morning and only got about four hours of sleep.  I can do that for a couple of days, but by the third day, the alarm doesn’t wake me up anymore.

If I take a nap, though, I’ll sleep until noon or after [because even though I’m exhausted right now, it will take me a while to fall asleep, and then I’ll have fifteen interruptions or so because the kids will need stuff].  And after I’ve slept for a while, I’ll get up and drink coffee again, and by the time I’ve showered and gotten ready for the day, Jeremi will be home from work.  This is how my day goes.  Now, if I hadn’t had to get up this morning, I’d get up about 9 or 10AM and be ready to go by, say, noon, and then I’d have three hours to do whatever I want.

That’s the goal, I think.  I need to figure out how to hire someone to do mornings.  It’s simply not working for me to do them.

But now I gotta take a nap.  See there.  Therapy.  I figured out what I need to do.  Now all I gotta do is figure out HOW to do it.  Heehee.  I think I’ll talk to J’s caseworker and see if he can help.



so I’m sitting here, thinking, damn, I should write something.  I’ve got so much pent-up stress, maybe i need the relief of venting a little.  taking care of jeremi 24/7 kinda sucks.  I’m sick of getting stuff for him and putting him to bed and feeding him and cleaning up shit and puke and piss and mucus.  I didn’t WANT to do this to begin with.  I decided to because the alternative was too horrible to contemplate, but now, here we are, a year into it, and I’m thinking, damn.  this is getting OLD.  only twenty or thirty years to go!

I dunno.  I think I’m just abnormally stressed out and I’ll be better in a few days.  steve’s working nights, and that always makes for a rough time for me.  he’s gone all night and sleeps all day, so I don’t get to see him, and i also don’t get much [if any] help with J or the kids. 

having people come in and help clean and bathe Jeremi started out being a good thing, because frankly, i feel like shit most of the time and all the laundry and dishes get away from me pretty quickly.  it only takes a day or two for things to get out of hand, which is too quickly for me to keep up.

I can’t figure out if I’m just lazy or if there’s some kind of horrible exhaustion thing or depression thing or what the hell is going on, all i know is that i know the things I should be doing, but i don’t have the energy [or motivation if i’m just a lazy fucker] to do them.  this is one of those times I’d like to run away.  not from steve or the kids, just my responsibilities and the inconveniences. 

I’m tired and I need some peace.  I don’t like jeremi very much anymore.  mostly, he annoys the shit out of me.  I’m feeling pulled in all directions again, and no one is getting what they need.  I sat in here and played computer games all day in an attempt to distance myself from everything.  didn’t work, though.  I couldn’t leave the house because Shaya isn’t here, and i wanted to get out today…actually, i needed it, desperately.

I guess maybe I should just go to bed and things will look better in the morning.  they generally do.  yeah, maybe that’s what I’ll do.

A New Name, A New Purpose


So I’ve realized that I need a place to vent.  E-mail is okay, except that sometimes I just want to whine like a fiend, and when you whine in an e-mail, people tend to respond.  This is considerably more public, and yet less likely to be read and commented upon.

Weird, I know, but there you go.  What I need here is a place to go to get rid of some of the words that are trying to make my head explode.  I’m living at the farm [AKA my parents’ house] with my husband, my kids, my dogs, my brother, and my parents.  That’s eight humans and two dogs.  In a three bedroom house.  It’s enough to try the sanity of any person, and since I’m half nuts already, I’m in trouble, you know?

I’m far, far away from all my friends, so my face-time [and therefore talking time] is seriously curtailed.  I recently joined Facebook, and realized that I need to write more.  Facebook seems to be something for short updates and a way to keep in touch with people, which is cool, but if you know me, you know I am completely incapable of being short and to the point.

As always, anyone is welcome to read this thing, but be aware that this is my place to vent my feelings, which means it will come out all wrong, and way more vehement than I really feel [exaggeration helps me calm down. so sue me]. so I’m really not asking for any in depth analyzing of my motives or deep conversation.

I just want to whine and write random shit and not have to worry about having to answer for my behavior.  Maybe it’s not the best thing to have a public blog for, but it’s what I need right now, okay?

Flu Sucks


Ugh.  Matthew started running a fever on Sunday morning.  By Monday morning, Steve had it.  Late Monday morning, Michaela had it.  She cried and said she felt like she had a fever.  She did.  She asked to go to the doctor.  I took her.  Doc said we all had influenza, the wicked killer kind that everyone is getting.

He gave Steve and me samples of Tamiflu, and gave me scripts for all three kids, even though Shaya wasn’t sick yet, and neither was I.  Our prescription plan sucks ass [$100 deductible per person in the family, with no family maximum.  For those of you who are bad at math, or don’t know how many people we have in our family, that’s $500 deductible a year.  Heh.  We can’t afford that, but whatever.].  The co-pay after the deductible is supposed to be that we pay 40% but that doesn’t happen every time.  It’s only certain drugs, and naturally, my family sometimes needs meds that aren’t covered [non-formulary, whatever the fuck that means…I think it means they’re cheap bastards, but that’s just MHO].

So anyway, the bill for Tamiflu for just my kids?  $200.  If he hadn’t had samples, I couldn’t have gotten Steve’s and my prescriptions filled.  That shit’s expensive!  And I honestly don’t know if it did anything, but whatever.

Tuesday morning, Shaya was sick.  I took care of everyone in the house.  By Tuesday evening, Steve was coherent again, as was Matthew.  Michaela was getting better, too.  Shaya was still dying [she and Michaela threw up with this stuff, Matt had diarrhea and coughed his head off, and Steve was mostly coughing and aching bad enough that he just lay there and moaned most of not fun for me]

Wednesday evening, after everyone was mostly recovered [except Shaya] the adventure began for me.  Aches, pains, some coughing, a little nausea, and today, diarrhea.  Let it be known that I hurt like hell, but refused to moan.  I even got up in the middle of the night to get my own medicine [it’s easier that way, trust me].

Steven is almost perfect as a husband.  His reaction to his own illnesses takes away a couple of ‘perfection points.’  There are a couple of other things that drive me nuts [like why the hell has he been watching Walker, Texas Ranger lately?  I think he does it to torture me.  That definitely shaves off a couple more points!] but I didn’t come here to tell you this!  The Walker thing is actually cute, even though it reaches new levels of annoying [is Chuck Norris the world’s WORST actor or what?!?] And everyone is looking pretty shitty through these flu-dimmed eyes of mine.  So don’t take it personally, Stevie.  You know how much I love you! [and I did say, truthfully, that he’s almost perfect.  Way better than I ever thought of being, which I am currently proving by bitching, eh?].

I’ve been thinking for a while about writing a post, but damn.  All I want to do is be a bitch and gripe about stuff.  I’ve got snark, sarcasm, and meanness coming out my ears, and rather than plague you nice people with it, I’m going to sigh and sign off for now.

See you soon, I hope!

Still Not Quite Right


And it’s bumming me the fuck out.  I mean seriously, how long can one person feel like shit?  I’m all sluggish and nauseated and having cramps and headaches and I’m tired and I can’t think most of the time.  I dunno.  I think I’m a mess.

So whiny is me.  I’m losing weight, though, so yay for that, but still, is it worth it since I feel like shit?  Not only am I back to my pre-pregnancy weight [as in, before Shaya pre-pregnancy] I’m also back to what I weighed when I got married [125 lbs, if you’re curious].  I’m not, however, back to my pre-pregnancy shape.  Heh.  Probably gonna have to do some crunches to accomplish that one.

The weird thing is, I feel all yucky and fat and stupid… it’s not a literal ‘fat’ feeling, but my body just feels wrong.  My stomach isn’t back to normal from my lovely stint of salmonella poisoning, and my heart’s wonky from my period, so that doesn’t feel right either.  I dunno.  I think I need to sleep for the rest of the week and come back next Monday and see how I feel.

Heh.  If only.  No, I gotta get up and get my kids to school tomorrow, and find the will to make a menu, grocery list, and go grocery shopping [and then come home and cook something… ugh].  Steve gets paid tomorrow, so we can actually buy food again [yay!  thank God we had a full pantry two weeks ago when we realized we were out of money way before we were supposed to be… yikes.  That is so not fun.]

But, feeling like I do, I really just want someone to come over and cook comfort food for me and let me sleep.  Steve’s off, but he’s not much of a cook, so I’m gonna have to suck it up.  Eating is making me nauseated.  Doesn’t matter what I eat, it makes me sick.  Potato soup made me have heartburn from hell the other night.  Vegetable soup made me nauseated today.

I ordered pizza tonight for dinner.  I just couldn’t make myself cook anything, and we’re out of everything except meat anyway [and it’s deer meat… yuck when you’re sick].  So naturally I’m suffering the consequences of pizza.  A wonderful double whammy of nausea and heartburn.

I probably need to get out and force myself to do some exercise or something, which brings me to my next whine.  It’s 14 degrees here, and the forecast says a low of 10 tonight, with a whopping 38 as a high for the week!  Ugh.  I have to wear two pairs of socks and my boots inside my house to try to stay warm, and I’ve still been cold all day.  And it’s not cold in here!  Seriously, it’s like somewhere between 72 and 75 degrees. I should not be cold, and yet I am.

So I guess I’m done whining for the night.  I have some memories to write about later this week.  Maybe I’ll feel up to sitting down at the computer tomorrow and working on it.  We rearranged our bedroom a couple of months ago, and there’s no room for our office chair, so I’ve got a folding chair with a pillow on it to sit in, and it’s wreaking havoc with my back, neck, shoulders, and feet [they get cold when I sit too long].  Oops.  I said I was done, but I was wrong.

I’m going to have to figure something out with this stupid chair and computer desk, though.  It makes it very painful to sit at the desk for longer than a few minutes, and I spend most of my day at the computer.  I need to be better soon.  This is getting really old.



Well, I’m still here, still alive, but too freaking busy for words.  Any words, so don’t feel left out.

My mom went in for a simple, one day laparoscopic gallbladder surgery on September 21, and she’s still not recovered from it because her surgeon screwed up… numerous times.

The first one could have happened to anyone, he cut her bowel accidentally and had to fix it.  Six days later, they sent her home, in excruciating pain, with an undiagnosed bowel obstruction and abscess.

She called the doctor the next day because she was throwing up massive quantities of bile, and he said, “Well, go back to ice chips.”  A few days later, she called again, still throwing up, and cried, begging him, saying she couldn’t take the pain anymore.

He told her to go to the ER.  When she got there, they did an X-Ray and found the abscess and obstruction.  They did an emergency bowel resection, on Sunday, September 30, and on Tuesday, October  2, she started having chest pain.

The nurses thought she wanted pain meds, and she ended up screaming at them that her chest hurt, not her incision, and they needed to do something.

When they finally got the EKG hooked up, they found that she was having a major heart attack.  The heart doc came in, and they got it stopped and transferred her to a city hospital, where she had two stents put in the next day.

There were two blockages in her circumflex [that might not be spelled right] artery in her heart [that’s the one in the back of the heart] one blockage  was 90%, and the other one was 99%. 

If she’d been at home, she would have died. 

So they kept her at the city hospital for five days, until Saturday, and Steve and I were there.  When they sent her home, I thought things were finally calming down.

I tried to call them Sunday night, but couldn’t get ahold of them, on Monday, my dad called and said that mom’s stitches had burst, and she was back in the hospital.


So they sent her home on Tuesday, and I came down to take care of her.  I’ve been here ever since. 

The surgeon put these horrible things called “Stay Sutures” or Retention Sutures in.  Turns out, she’s allergic to the stitches they used, and was in constant, excruciating pain until Monday when they took them out. 

On Tuesday, she was still in a lot of pain, and we were both depressed as hell.  Wednesday, she had a wonderful day, with bearable pain, and we thought the worst was behind us.

Thursday morning, the bad pain was back [although not as severe as before] and we were depressed again.  We realized that it’s just going to be a slow process, which sucks.

Today, Friday, her pain is less, but now there’s fresh blood in the drainage from her wounds [where she popped open due to pressure from too much fluid built up in her abdomen].

Her asshole surgeon [who I’ve had to fight with repeatedly to get medicine for pain, and about taking the stay sutures out] is out of town until Monday.

I’m keeping an eye on the blood, praying that it doesn’t increase. 

Also, today we found out that her Medicare isn’t going to pay for her medicines for the rest of the year.  Plan D sucks.  They have what they call a ‘do-nut hole’ where the patient has to pay 100% of their medicine costs once medicare has paid $2200 for the year. 

If the cost gets over $5000, it kicks in again.  Un-fucking-believable.

She has several medicines that she has to take for her diabetes, high cholesterol, and heart condition, none of which are cheap.

I have no way to help out, and I have no idea what they’re going to do.

Oh yeah, Steve, Shaya, and Matthew are at home, and Michaela is with me, so I haven’t seen my kids or husband in almost two weeks.  We only have one vehicle, and I have it, so he can’t come see me, and  mom needs constant care.

I miss my family, my friends, my home, and even my stupid dogs, who shit all over the floor while Steve was at work yesterday… diarrhea. 

I’m not sleeping at night, and until today, mom’s internet has been screwed up, so it’s been fun.

So.  That’s my life these days.  Aren’t you glad you stopped by?

If you pray, would you say one for my parents?