I'm no watcher of the show--tonight's was the only episode I've ever seen, hence I have no clue what's going on--but--

Is it just me or were those totally MIBs on tonight's episode of Fringe??

I used to have bad dreams that the MIBs were coming to get me. (This was many years before the goofy Will Smith movies.) ZOMG I have not thought about the MIBs in years. I used to always freak out whenever a helicopter flew over or a big black car drove by. Ha. *is a dork*

 

Good Lord, do the bizarre reviews never end?

I will probably regret posting this in haste, but...it must be read to be believed.

Today somebody commented on "A Crack Of Light," one of my favorite stories (it's highlighted on my port), telling me they'd sure like to see something new and current, something I "just wrote today," because I am what I do, not what I did. (Paraphrased.)

WTF??

Don't tell me people read my work because they have some hankering to know "who I am" based on "what I do"? I honestly thought I was just posting my writing to entertain people, not to be subjected to some psychological test.

Not to mention there were absolutely no comments on the quality of the writing itself (which, because it was written several years ago and, gosh darn it, isn't "current," merits a 3.5 rating).

This is the reply I sent since it was anonymous. I haven't anything against that, since I understand wanting to be anonymous, but on the other hand, it's a bit creepy that some anonymous person is so desperate to know "who I am" based on "what I'm currently doing (writing)." I thought that's what my blog was for, not my fiction. Seriously. You want to know who a writer is, read their autobiography; otherwise, just enjoy their fiction for what it is--fiction.

The reply:

Unfortunately, work that I "just wrote today" isn't yet available for viewing seeing as my writing goes through a proofreading process before being posted, and also because I mainly write in serials where there are many chapters to be posted before the most current ones. It can be months or even years before my most "current" work sees the light of the Net. That doesn't mean the work isn't still current to me, the writer. If it were no longer representative of how I write, I would include a disclaimer on it.

This story is written in the style I still use today, so it's still representative of how I write today. I find it odd to give it a 3.5-star rating (without any actual commentary on the writing quality or lack thereof) just because it happened to have been written several years ago and you happen to want to read something written "today." Perhaps you can browse the newest CREATED items as opposed to most recently MODIFIED? You will be likely to come across many unfinished items by people who posted them immediately without any thought for proofing or editing.

I'm not calling my work publishable or classic by any means, but according to your argument, would you eschew reading a published work that was written several years ago just because of that fact, that it wasn't written "today"? I'm pretty sure most published works weren't written the day the reader reads them. Does that nullify their worth?

Sorry, but my writing process does not work that way.

I am both what I did AND what I now do. It's called history, and everybody has one, else they have nothing on which to base the present and future. I'm also rather puzzled that you should care who "I am," when my goal here is just to share my writing, not convince people who or what I am based on what I do or did. Judge the story for the story, not for the author behind it. You really can't tell who or what I am by reading this story alone; since you offered no comments on the writing itself, I wonder if you did read it, or just looked at the creation date and decided that since it's a few years old, it must be stale.

I do strongly suggest that when you search for works to read on this site, you sort by most newly created so you can find something more along the lines of what you're looking for. Do be prepared for a lot of unpolished work, though.

Seriously. I wonder if they would refuse to read King's The Stand because it's not his latest book, or anything by Dickens because he's dead and so of course none of his work is current or representative of "who he is" (i. e., most likely a dusty old skeleton). I wouldn't bother posting my writing if I felt it had no current value whatsoever, and anyone who knows me has seen that I put big fat disclaimers on anything written so long ago that my style has changed. Even if my style has changed, however (e. g., as in the case of Manitou Island), that doesn't mean all the content must be crap since it was written almost a decade ago. I wouldn't even edit the stuff to show up in the listings again if I thought it was so lousy, so "not me." Notice the items in my port that haven't been modified in months or years? THAT is usually the stuff that is no longer representative of who I am or what I do. Yet even it has its purpose--it's part of who I WAS, which contributed to who I am today. Otherwise it wouldn't be posted at all. Is "current" writing the only worthwhile writing there is anymore? Is history pointless because it's not the present? Color me surprised. According to this logic, this reader wouldn't care to read even something I wrote today because by the time they get around to reading it, it will have been written several hours ago, or yesterday, or last week even, and of course that's what I did, thus not who I am.

You do realize that ANYTHING I write, even if written today, is already something I did and am not currently doing? Therefore, ANYTHING I write is not representative of who I am because it has already happened and is already written. According to this line of reasoning, the only writing that would be representative of who I am would be the stuff I haven't even written yet. And how can writing that doesn't even exist represent who I am right now? Cripes on a stick, this is confusing. I thought this was Writing.com, not Philosophy.com.

When all is said and done, "A Crack Of Light" is still VERY much representative of "who I am," seeing as I'm always thinking about the characters and situations in that particular story. Same goes with most of my other work, even the stuff I wrote when I was twelve. That stuff made me who I am today and will influence who I am tomorrow. What I "did" is very much a big part of who I "am." Not that any of this should matter to somebody just looking for something entertaining to read--most people who read my work really couldn't give a flip who I am!

Seriously. Why do I keep getting these people. Must I now include disclaimers that it's just my writing, read it for what it is and not for who or whatever the hell is the writer behind it?

I really could have used a talk with Psychologist today. WTF seriously.

 

Well that's embarrassing, I was so caught up in posting my previous entry that I neglected to delete the asterisks next to "narcissist" and "vacuum," there to remind me to check their spelling. I guess I need a reminder to remind myself.

Psychologist has cancelled again. I really could have talked to her tomorrow, too. *sigh*
 

Typed up last night to vent. This is not in response to anyone currently reading this journal; the people who inspired this probably wouldn't even bother glancing at my journal anyway.

I don't understand why people get in touch with me if they don't have the time to actually correspond beyond a trivial "Hi there, bye" every so often. I don't want to write to people if that's all they have time for. I really don't feel like wasting my time and effort on people if they don't have the time or inclination to put any effort into an actual friendship. If casual, random "Hi there, how you doing?--bye" was all I really wanted from people, I would be set, but I honestly don't care for such "correspondence." To me, that's not a friendship. It's nothing much, really. It seems like I'm always getting people wanting to write to me or get in touch yet all they ever have time for is the barest "Hi there, how are you?--okay, bye," and it just pisses me off. If you really can't/won't commit, then don't bother me. I don't want to hear it.

Even more disheartening...I don't even know how to phrase it. I'm just so fed up with it all. People accuse me of being the one unwilling to make friends. That's a load of bullshit. The amount of people who've just about bitten my head off when I called them out on what lousy "friends" they were being rather tells that this is the truth--why else would they get so defensive? Friendship is supposed to be reciprocal and that means that *I* am not going to be the one to put all the damn effort into it. Yet you'd think that I'm the only one expected to. If I fail to reply to somebody, or to be interested enough in their lives, I'm called asocial and told that, well gee, maybe that's why I have no friends. Bull. I know I can be a damn good friend if others would only put equal effort into the thing. I can't count how many times people have gotten in touch with me, all excited, and then have commenced chattering about THEIR lives and THEIR interests and what THEY'RE up to and how THEY'RE doing. All the while completely overlooking or dismissing the fact that hey, maybe *I* have things I want/need to share, too. Yes, I will say things like, "Things haven't been going too well, but I won't bother you with the annoying details" or "I've just been doing stuff, I won't bore you with any of it," but since when does that mean I DO NOT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT? Anybody can see that these responses actually mean, "I do want to talk about things of importance/interest to me, but I've had so many damn people shoot me down or turn away in disinterest that I've learned to just shut up, I really hope you understand what I really mean and won't act like all the others and will bother to ACTUALLY ASK ME ABOUT MY LIFE AND INTERESTS AND SHOW SOME INTEREST IN ME AS A PERSON."

But no. Nobody ever does. Either they take my very thinly veiled attempts at opening up two-way communication at face value (meaning they must be the most remarkably dense people in the world), or they really don't care to hear about what's important to ME ("Oh thank goodness," I can hear them thinking, "she's reluctant to talk about herself, I'll just talk about myself then!"), they just want to talk about THEMSELVES, and the one-way communication commences. Of course when somebody talks about themselves, themselves, themselves, I won't have much to say in return. Don't get me wrong. I know how to show interest even in things that bore me to tears when the other person shows interest in my life in return. I know how to reciprocate. But other people don't. And if you're really not going to bother putting effort into letting ME talk about MY stuff, then hell no am I going to be interested in hearing YOU talk about YOUR stuff. Meaning I'll become quiet and unresponsive. And then inevitably be accused of not being a very good friend and of, gee, not putting enough effort into it. So of course it's my fault when yet another potential "friend" wanders off in disinterest or disgust.

Bullshit.

I'm not interested in beads or beading in the least. I really don't care. It's not my thing. It is, however, my mother's thing. I haven't anybody I really discuss my own interests with in any detail so I'll just use my mother as an example of how it should work. She's crazy about beading whereas I really don't care. Imagine, however, she's not my mother but a potential friend. I know how good it feels when somebody shows interest in your own passion. So when I see her working on something, I'll ask her about her latest project. When she asks me for my opinion on color choices, I'll give it and give my reasons why some things work or don't work. I'll compliment her completed items. When she shows me designs or patterns in magazines I'll comment on them. When she loses or breaks something I'll commiserate. I'll congratulate her when she gets something done or sells something. I won't just sit and wait for her to make all the first comments--I'll initiate a few of my own. Even though I really do not care about beads or beading, all this stuff I will do, because I know this is what she wants/needs to hear, and just because it's not my area of interest doesn't make my comments any less sincere.

Now imagine that, in return, even if she weren't that interested in writing or mythology or Mackinac Island or whatnot, she were to congratulate me when I finish a story, or offer comments when I toss an idea at her, or ask about my latest trip and what I saw, or commiserate when I complain about some part of the writing process, or ask a few questions now and then should I mention some plot point, in short, put SOME effort into at least appearing interested in what I do, the same way I show interest in what SHE does even if we're really not into what each other does. When somebody shows more interest in what you do, of course you'll show more interest in them. It's the plain truth that people love to talk about themselves. I'm no exception. I have no problem with this fact, except that whenever people contact me, they don't seem to understand that hello, I'd like it too, if they'd show some damn interest in me and not just yak about themselves. Not only do people love talking about themselves, but most people hate when others talk ONLY about themselves. Make sense?

And perhaps I wouldn't always end up falling silent and being accused of gee, being such a lousy friend who doesn't put any effort into it if OTHERS WOULD PUT THE FRIGGING EFFORT INTO IT. Perhaps I wouldn't be so inclined to always say, "I don't want to bore you with the details" if people would show genuine interest in the first place and not brush me off so quickly. Of course I won't be interested in communicating if it's going to be one way only, if it's going to be all YOU YOU YOU, if every single time you take my "I won't bore you with my stuff" at face value (come on, like anyone believes that line?--that somebody would not be interested in talking about themselves?) and commence just talking about yourself and not bothering to ever ask any more about ME. Of course I'll eventually show more interest in you if you do the same for me, and put some effort into it, by actually asking about me and my interests and such. Instead of

"Hey, what have you been up to?"

"Oh, nothing of interest, really."

"Oh well, I guess that's fine. Wow, I had such fun with my family last night, we went here and there and such, then I worked on this and that, then my friend so-and-so came over, we had so much fun, bla bla bla, well, write to me any time, hear from you later!"

...how about actually putting EFFORT into it to come up with something like

"Hey, what have you been up to?"

"Oh, nothing of interest, really."

"Ah now, you know that's not true. I remember you're really into writing, are you working on anything right now?"

"Well, I'm working on such-and-such, but I really don't want to bore you with the details."

"You won't bore me, I'd really like to hear about it, it sounds interesting. Speaking of interesting, you won't believe what happened with my family last night, we went here and there and such, then I worked on this and that, then my friend so-and-so came over, we had so much fun. What else are you doing besides this project? Have you gone anywhere lately? I seem to recall you like Mackinac Island too, anything to say about that? Don't feel like you're boring me, I really like being back in touch. I really look forward to hearing from you soon!"

...etc. If you bother showing some interest in my life and interests, and actually put some effort into it instead of brushing me off and focusing entirely on yourself, then I'm going to start asking you about your life, and then there will be some actual two-way communication--AKA friendship.

Notice I also got rid of the ultimate copout, "Write to me any time." That, to me, is not and never has been an open invitation to two-way communication. Instead, it just screams that this person is regretting having contacted me, finds me boring, and would rather dump the entire burden for maintaining the communication onto MY shoulders, making ME keep contacting THEM if I want to keep in touch, and if I don't bother contacting them (even if they haven't really left me anything to respond to, since they've been too busy talking completely about themselves and not asking me about myself in return), then gee, I must not want to hear from them that much. How about instead of "Write to me any time!" YOU actually write to ME--and ask me how I'm really doing? And don't just take my "I don't want to bother you with the details" at face value, because come on, everybody wants to talk about themselves. The thing is, I've simply learned that nobody wants to listen...so of course I'll say I don't want to bother people with what interests me, I'm sick and tired of pouring my heart out to others only to have them brush it all off and yak about themselves, themselves, themselves. Like I said, eventually, when people neglect to make the communication go two ways, you just learn to shut up. And are then accused of being asocial. Bullshit. I'm only asocial because everyone else taught me they're narcissists.* Both the states of "asocial" and "narcissist"* exist in a vacuum.* Of course neither will go two ways. Perhaps if more people bothered putting effort into making communication go both ways, I wouldn't be so damn asocial. Perhaps I'd even be more willing to put the first effort into making friends, rather than waiting for others to act, or might be more receptive in the first place instead of so distant (you wouldn't believe how many people have carped, "Well, I tried to be your friend, but you didn't reply!"--yeah, now you see why not?--a hundred times bitten, a million times shy), if others would do the same.

I used to love reading--or rather, trying to read--my stories and magazine articles and such to family members, and sharing my interests with other people, until, over and over and over, I was told to go bother somebody else, they were too busy, go find something else to do. Of course when that's the only message you get your entire life, you'll learn to just shut up and keep it to yourself, even when people insist they do want to hear it. Especially when people insist they do want to hear it, then they take your "I don't want to bore you" at face value and prove they don't want to hear it. I actually replied to somebody recently with, "I haven't been doing very well lately but I won't bother you with the annoying details" and all I got in return was a bunch of chattering about how they've been doing and what they've been up to. They didn't bother to show any more concern about me in the least. Am I honestly the only one who would read a comment like that and would reply with "It wouldn't bother me, I genuinely want to know. What's been going wrong? Is there anything I can do to help? Please don't feel like you'd be annoying me, that's what I'm here for"? Seriously? Are people really so self-centered that they can't read between the lines and see what such comments are REALLY saying? If I really didn't want to talk about myself, I would just not make such comments in the first place. I can't believe the rest of the world would be so dense, so that must mean the rest of the world is just that self-centered. I find that very discouraging. Nobody wants to put any effort into friendship anymore. The "friendships" that I see people engage in online seem like mere acquaintanceships to me; there's little depth to them, just a bunch of "Hi there how you doing well write to me whenever you want bye"s. I'm mystified that when I state I want something more than that, people bitch at me for expecting so much, when, as I was growing up, "so much" was what was called friendship. Now it's just called "being demanding." When did friendship become so shallow, so not worth putting effort into? When did friendship become all about writing at each other and not to each other?

I hate how long my paragraphs in this are. I probably could have said it all a lot shorter, but then you wouldn't have to put any effort into reading it, and perhaps that proves my point. People just don't care anymore. Like I said, I find this discouraging, but whenever I say that I'm just told to stop expecting so damn much, people have more important things to do than be friends.

Whenever I see Psychologist and talk about how lonely and discouraged I feel, about how I have to cling to my pathetic belief that feeding wild birds makes me of some tiny use to the world, she always says, "You really need a friend." Yes, I do. But nobody seems interested in investing the effort in being one. It's certainly not been because of a lack of effort on my part, despite what almost everyone who's tried and failed to befriend me would have you think. I'm more than willing to be a good friend. If others would do the same. I'm not going to shoulder all the work anymore, only to be blamed when it falls through.

When I was growing up, "friends" showed a genuine reciprocal interest in each other. I wonder when such a thing as this became a rarity. It must have happened between 1997-2000, when I was pretty much out of contact with the entire outside world. I wonder if the Internet caused it or if I just happened to be extra fortunate when I was little or if I'm just extra unfortunate now, but it really does seem to me that what I considered "friendship" when I was young is considered too much effort by most of the world now. Very pathetic.

So yes, I'm asocial. I appear not to be a very good friend. I'm self-centered. But just because that's what everyone else is and what everyone else taught me to be. I could be the best friend in the world...for somebody who'd be willing to do the same in return. Seeing as that seems like too much effort for most people...I'm going to keep being asocial and a "lousy friend." I really do not think my expectations are that high. Everyone loves to talk about themselves. People just need to realize that applies not only to them but to others, and then act accordingly.

 

Last night it finally happened. I didn't get to sleep until after 4AM.

I'm going back to fasting fluids, taking in at most 2-3 cups a day, and that only after 4PM. Don't know how helpful that'll be since yesterday I only took in 3 cups and look what happened anyway. The medication has my mouth as dry as leather but I still have over two weeks left to go. I might very well just quit the stupid shit because it's obviously not helping any. If losing over 70oz in a day when I've drunk only 30-40oz isn't proof enough that something's wrong, then I don't know what is.

Output has been quite low all day since around 1PM. I can only hope I can sleep maybe a little bit tonight, though probably not. It feels like it's starting to act up again.

One of the people I mentioned in my next-to-last entry was probably the best and only real friend I've ever had in life. Somebody I longed to get back in touch with, but also rather hoped wouldn't, just so I could hold on to the hope that if we could get back in touch, we'd become the friends we once were. She finally found me and got back in touch. And has apparently forgotten my existence already. Just as I feared would happen. Now my last positive memory of childhood is gone, if someone who I felt was so close, someone who influenced so much of who I am and what I do, can forget me so quickly. It seems that people always leave a much greater impression on me than I leave on them. I genuinely feel that when I'm gone, I will not have left a lasting impression on anyone or anything around me. At least, that's the message I keep getting. I've reached out to so many people, written so many words, done so much that I can, for what? It could all be gone tomorrow without a trace and the world would be no different without me in it. In fact, it would probably be better.

Just life crushing me, as always.

 

Cripes, now today (aside from a strange 5oz flareup around 10-11AM) I'm as dry as a bone, including my mouth. I guess I'm one of the lucky 3 out of 5 to experience that lovely side effect. Aside from that, I notice nothing from this drug. Since I've barely been putting out anything almost all day, I suppose that means it'll act up tonight. In fact I think I'm starting to feel twinges. -_- (Yesterday I ended up putting out 71oz within 24 hours--almost 9 cups.) Why the hell this can't just even out already, I don't understand.

I'm thinking I might write up new introductory notes to each of my short stories as the ones I currently have are pretty lame. E. g., on one of my MI stories, about the only thing I say is, "This is where she came from, you know who I mean," when of course most people stumbling upon my writing have no clue it all ties in to preexisting series so of course they have no idea who I mean. In fact, eventually I hope to put a note on every single chapter of everything I've ever written for the morons who don't understand that a title like, say, "Part 71" means This is part 71 of a story which is most likely the sequel to another story so that's why it will make no sense to you if you read just this. Yeah, I know that sounds bitchy, but honestly, it doesn't take a mental giant to realize that OF COURSE a story won't make sense if you're jumping in like a few hundred chapters too late. But you'd be surprised how many people have no idea why this is so. Like asking me why Charmian talks so modern. Dumbass.

Tar...

 

I honestly do not understand this. I've been on the oxybutynin or whatever for a week now, and I've gone back to drinking semi-regularly--meaning, instead of the 6-7 cups a day I drink during summer, I'm drinking instead the approximately 4 cups I feel like drinking (I'm just not as thirsty when it's cold). And instead of feeling better (which I knew would not happen), it just seems to be making things worse. I haven't yet returned to letting out a half cup every ten minutes like in the summer, but I honestly believe that's only because I'm not drinking 6-7 cups a day like I was then. If I were, I'm sure it'd be much worse. The thing is, the amount I'm putting out no longer coincides with the amount I'm taking in. I am literally putting out more fluids than I take in, and I do not see how that's possible.

It seems to increase every single day since I've started the medication. The day I started the meds, I let out about 35.5oz (over four cups) that day total. The next day, 39.5oz (almost five cups). Couldn't keep accurate track the next day as I was out. The day after that, 43.5oz (over five cups). The day after that, 45.5oz (over five cups). The day after that, 50.5oz (over six cups). Today, I've put out 57oz (over seven cups) so far--I still have two hours left to midnight when I take the final tally--and what have I drunk all day long? Four large cups (probably around 40oz) yesterday (ALL DAY LONG, starting around 9AM, I do not sit here and guzzle down four cups one right after another), and today, not even three large cups (30oz) yet; even if I count the Activia I drink, that would add a mere 5-something ounces. Whichever way you put it, I still have two hours to go today, and already I've put out over seven cups of fluid when I haven't drunk NEARLY that much, neither yesterday nor today.

How is this physically possible? I've given up thinking it must be water weight, because I no longer seem to lose weight, if anything I always seem bloated or else have put on real weight. I don't understand how my body is doing this. And I'm frustrated that doctors don't seem to take me seriously. I don't want to put up with another three weeks of this if it's just going to get worse and worse every single day. What will the final tally today be? What about tomorrow? Eight cups, nine? When does it ever end? It's starting to act up again (like it ever stops, there are just hours when it isn't quite as bad as other hours, now)--a couple more ounces just in the past 15-20min.--it prefers acting up toward bedtime, now. The one time it decides to start being consistent, and it's around bedtime. Every night I go to bed fully expecting not to get much more than a few hours of sleep; it's bound to happen soon enough. Maybe tonight. I'll probably go back to fasting fluids; screw showing the doctor how it acts up when it's really acting up, this one week alone should be proof enough--letting out over seven cups of fluid when you've only drunk three.

And this is just one of numerous issues. I won't bother getting into the rest right now. Suffice it to say that recently two people, including one I had really hoped still cared about me, got in touch with me, seeming all excited to correspond, yet have already apparently disappeared, yet again; story of my life, if anything I'm f**king forgettable. I've lucked out on sleep (for the most part) so far, but I'm so sick of being sick and it just keeps getting worse. I wish somebody could at least tell me how this is physically possible. And why these people keep getting my hopes up and making me think somebody actually cares when they really don't. I don't understand when or why I became such a forgettable person.

 

ZOMG, I saw this at KMart today and just had to pick it up.

ASIN: 1594743347 Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: The Classic Regency Romance - Now with Ultraviolent Zombie Mayhem!     Product Type: Book          List Price: $ 12.95          Amazon's Price: $ 8.47          You Save: $ 4.48 [Buy Now!]

From the back cover:

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains."

So begins Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, an expanded edition of the beloved Jane Austen novel featuring all-new scenes of bone-crunching zombie mayhem. As our story opens, a mysterious plague has fallen upon the quiet English village of Meryton--and the dead are returning to life! Feisty heroine Elizabeth Bennet is determined to wipe out the zombie menace, but she's soon distracted by the arrival of the haughty and arrogant Mr. Darcy. What ensues is a delightful comedy of manners with plenty of civilized sparring between the two young lovers--and even more violent sparring on the blood-soaked battlefield. Can Elizabeth vanquish the spawn of Satan? And overcome the social prejudices of the class-conscious landed gentry? Complete with romance, heartbreak, swordfights, cannibalism, and thousands of rotting corpses, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies transforms a masterpiece of world literature into something you'd actually want to read.

A quote:

"I don't have long, Elizabeth. All I ask is that my final months be happy ones, and that I be permitted a husband who will see to my proper Christian beheading and burial."

There are also ninjas.

And a reader's discussion guide.

And it's ILLUSTRATED!

*dies laughing*

Typed up earlier.

Well, perhaps a glimmer of progress, perhaps not. Went for a followup visit to the doctor Wednesday and this time ended up waiting OVER an hour before finally getting in to see him. This is just ridiculous. There were other people there waiting, one guy had been there since four for a 5:30 appointment and was still waiting when we were at last called in probably after six (my appointment was for 4:45, HA HA LAUGH). I think the only reason he showed up so very early was to talk, since they're always showing Fox News in that lobby and Glenn Beck or whatever his name is is always on and he just yaps and yaps and nobody in the lobby could stand him, he was so frigging annoying, why do they even put on that channel. This guy who'd been waiting for so long got to chattering about the auto industry and the economy and all that jazz and I found it kind of funny because he said Glenn Beck or whoever likes to hear himself talk, and I got that distinct impression from this guy too. Did he even realize just how much he went on and on and on? At one point he was complaining about how Chrysler makes three different kinds of tail lights depending on what country the car is in, and said he wrote a letter to Chrysler to complain, and I thought, "Oh boy, I bet you write a LOT of letters." And there was this other guy who didn't even bother with the waiting room but came in twice to present himself to the receptionist and see if it was time for him to go in yet. Once the lady who was listening and nodding the most to the yappy man realized how long we'd all been waiting, she went out to make a call or something. Another guy just played games on his cell phone the entire time. Nobody was even listening to Glenn Beck or whoever he was anymore, though we did laugh at G. Gordon Liddy or whoever when he jangled some gold coins in his hand and exclaimed, "Hear that? That's the sound of security!" And then the yappy man of course had to expound on the value of gold and let us know how very much he knew on the subject. There's a similar yappy man we occasionally meet in the waiting room at the mental health place, only he's rather weird; Ma can't stand him but I find him amusing and rather wish the two of us could find something to talk about. She said she believes he talks so much because he likes me, but I said, "You're the one he talks to all the time," and it's true, we've never said a word to each other yet. Stupid, thinking somebody likes me. I bet he's married and has a secure job and ten kids or something.

Anyway, I had used the bathroom out in the lobby before showing up, only to be presented with a cup at the receptionist's desk. So I decided to wait until called. So here I am, sitting in the lobby listening to Glenn Beck or whoever and this yappy guy, holding a little urine specimen cup. Nobody told me I'd have to dish it out again! Cripes, they already know my urine is just fine. I'm good at producing this stuff, believe you me, but I had only just gone. Still, the wait was long enough. When the nurse called me and asked, "So do you think you can go now? After waiting several hours?" (*sarcasm*) I said yes and did so. Jeez, those cups are so very small, I made such a mess. ;_; Got weighed, went into the office, got the blood pressure taken and the usual questions asked again, etc. etc., then the nurse said the doctor was caught up and we shouldn't be waiting much longer and then left and then we waited like another 15 minutes or so. >:/ Honestly. You know those cell phone commercials or whatever where they say, "What if firefighters ran the world?"? Well, what if Tehuti ran the world? Schedules, for one thing, would actually still mean something. I mean, seriously. I realize things happen but they shouldn't happen ALL THE TIME. If you schedule something for a certain time, then do it at that time. If you can't manage, then don't schedule so damn much. I think nurses should run the world. They do a hell of a lot more and are a hell of a lot more hospitable, no pun intended, than doctors. I was honestly hoping I would just talk with the nurse and she would do everything and then we would leave without even having to see the doctor.

The urologist finally came in and actually said hello this time. I still find that the first impression he made wears on me so I remain leery. Interesting, how something so small can stick with you. I got the same stupid questions yet again. He informed me that according to the ultrasound my kidneys are just fine and yes, I'm fully emptying my bladder, DUHCOULD'VETOLDYOUTHATAGESAGOTHANKYOUVERYMUCH. At least they got it out of the way. I was kind of hoping he'd mention the size or capacity of my bladder, as in, "Gee, you have quite the tiny bladder there, don't you!" but he didn't so I guess it looks normal, though I still believe it must be quite small, like a little change purse or something, I don't know. And now came the talk about prescribing me a medication for overactive bladder, UGH. He asked if I had insurance to help cover the cost and I said I only have Medicaid, so it'll have to be a generic..."oxybutynin," the thing says, whatever that is. I'll start on a small dose and try it for a month as that's how long it takes to find out if it's working or not. I guess I was fed up. I at last spoke up to say that I really didn't think the issue was with my bladder--I was going to add, "So this medication, this is just to rule that out for sure, right?" as I don't wish to appear some kind of know-it-all, but he cut in with, "What do you think the problem is?"

Well, at least somebody finally asked. Even if perhaps he was thinking, "Stupid wench, thinking she knows more than a doctor!" I mean, honestly, there is a big honking poster about overactive bladder on his door and I took the time to peruse it before he came in, I DO NOT HAVE THOSE SYMPTOMS. I told him about how I'll first produce an excessive quantity of watery urine in a short period of time, then it'll taper off and I'll produce too little, very dark urine, and it just alternates--"It's like whatever regulates how much and when I urinate is out of whack and can't just level itself out." Hypothalamus, I know, but I didn't want him to think, "Ah, Ilookedituponlineitis," so I didn't say that. I don't want to appear like I think I know more than a doctor, but at the same time, I know I'm not entirely ignorant. I can read a chart that says, "Overactive bladder is characterized by the SUDDEN, UNCONTROLLABLE URGE TO URINATE and by the INABILITY TO CONTROL BLADDER CONTRACTIONS, CAUSING INCONTINENCE" and say that those are not symptoms that pertain to me. You don't need to be a mental giant or anything.

"So how much do you feel is coming out, that it's excessive?" the urologist asked. God he must have been thinking I'm such a know-it-all.

"Well, I don't think I'm actually putting out an excessive amount per day," I clarified (though I sometimes wonder about this, seeing as I drink only about 2.5 cups of fluid a day yet more than that seems to come out!), "but for a certain period of time, like between two to six hours, there'll be an excessive amount coming out for that particular period of time. Like for example once, I had about seven cups come out in seven hours, which is about a cup an hour, and that just seemed like a lot to me." And hell yes, it IS. On a website about diabetes it mentioned excessive fluid intake/urination as being 12 cups/10.5 cups; I did the math, and 10.5 cups a day works out to about .4 cup every hour. That's less than half a cup. And I'm assuming, since this is toward the high end of the scale, it pertains to people who drink a lot, like up to 12 cups of fluid a day, which I have NEVER done--at the most, in summer, I drink up to seven cups in a day. Meaning my urinary output should of course be smaller than .4 cup every hour. Meaning that hell yes, a CUP within an hour is excessive! As already mentioned, even a mere 1/4 cup in my bladder is enough to wake me out of sleep, so you can imagine, putting out a cup in an hour is pretty stressful. And when this problem really acts up, I'm putting out a LOT more than a mere cup in an hour--as I mentioned to him, though I'm not sure he heard, "A third or half of a cup within ten minutes." It's just really hard to properly describe this issue as it's not something that tends to act up 24/7--it really fluctuates, and it's not so much the exact amount of urine coming out as how uncomfortable it makes me that's the issue. Maybe for everybody else, a cup an hour is perfectly tolerable; I felt very lame giving him this stat, since it doesn't sound that bad at all. But for me, it is. A few times recently I've put out a mere 1/3 cup an hour for several hours and THAT bothered me, even though it's nowhere near as bad as when this really acts up. All I can say is, before I had this issue, I was never so uncomfortable every hour. I could have easily gone an hour or even two or three before being too uncomfortable to hold it in. So I must have been putting out a lot less then, meaning, for me, something like 1/3 cup per hour is excessive.

Especially given how little I drink now!

Anyway. He actually seemed to listen to this. Wow. He started to suggest that I should keep a log of when it acts up and before the words were out of his mouth, both my mother and I said that I have. He started looking through his notes as if puzzled and searching for this log, which I had never given him, BECAUSE NOBODY HAS EVER ASKED FOR THE DAMN THING. This irked me the most as when I filled out the form he sent me, in which I described my problem, I also sent along a copy of the letter I typed up to my first doctor in which I clearly mentioned I've been keeping track of how much/how frequently I urinate and will provide a copy if requested. This log was Psychologist's idea, and I've been keeping it, in increasing detail, since the beginning of August. But nobody has asked for it. So I figured nobody was interested. Now he acts all surprised like it's the first he's ever heard of it--well, didn't you read the damn letter I sent you? Cripes. Anyway, to make a long story short, he said we would try me on the medication for a month, and I would be provided with a container to keep track of how many "CCs" of urine I'm putting out when this acts up--he said, "What you should keep track of is the exact amount, and the time of urination," during which my head was bobbing like crazy, I am so beyond used to this by now, I've even been keeping track of the color. I asked, then, should I return to drinking the amount of fluid I normally drink, since I've been abstaining from much fluid for the past month or so?--he said yes, he would like to know how this acts up when I'm drinking as I normally would. It just seemed like the scientific thing to ask. *shrug* In truth, to be most thorough, I should resume normal drinking for a month, without medication, and then start the medication while continuing normal drinking, for another month, to see how it acts up both on and off medication while I'm drinking normally. But I'm to see him in about another month, during which I'm supposed to be taking the medication, and this issue is so frigging upsetting that I doubt I could tolerate that. I have the rough log I've been keeping since August. That itself is record enough of how it acts up when I'm drinking normally and not on medication.

We went to the receptionist to make the appointment ("There's a couple of refills on there, in case we can't get you back in in another month," the urologist said on the way out), and I was about to be sent off with just this, but I again spoke up to say, "I was told I'd be given a cup to count how many CCs of fluid I'm putting out, do I get that here?" Cripes, they did the exact same thing at the first doctor's, told me they'd give me a cup and then almost didn't until I requested it at the desk. The receptionist started to poke around for a little cup but the nurse appeared and said, "I'll get her a urine hat, that's big enough, that way she won't end up filling up this tiny little cup," and then left to get a...urine hat, whatever the hell that is. O_o She returned with some sort of cardboard receptacle that I assume you place upon the toilet seat and/or sit upon, like a funnel, and a large plastic container measured in both CCs and ounces so I can keep accurate track, "Whichever one you find easier to use." Since I haven't any idea what a "CC" is or how much is in one, I've decided to go with ounces. Seeing as I already know there are 8oz. in a cup, and "cups" is how I've been measuring this all along. I eschewed the cardboard thingie since I did not see how anyone could sit on that thing and funnel urine into the plastic container without it soaking through and making a huge mess, so the nurse kept that and we left.

So, I believe I'm to go on this oxywhatever stuff ("It's not related to OxyContin, is it?" my mother had asked worriedly, I almost laughed aloud, how silly) for a month, and keep track of how much is coming out of me, while resuming regular drinking habits. I want to resume regular drinking habits since it's such a pain waiting until like four in the afternoon before having my first (and one of only two) cup of tea, but this means I'll probably be sleeping very little and feeling utterly miserable the upcoming month. -_- I doubt this medication will do squat since, as I said, although it's obviously small and sensitive, my bladder is not my problem. And my kidneys are not my problem. I think this stupid-ass hypothalamus is my frigging problem. But I guess I have to do it, to get this sorted out. Stupid process. It's been so wonderful, actually getting moderately normal sleep. *sigh*

I'm kind of glad to have this new container, though it's so big I can't sit down and use it, I have to...transfer the urine from the small cup to this big one. Sorry about all this. But it's more accurate now. I see I've in fact been overestimating how much I'm letting out; for example, what I estimated as around 1/7-1/6 cup seems to actually be about 1/8 cup, meaning 1oz. However, this just means that my bladder is more sensitive than I thought it was, that a mere 1-1.5oz. can pester me! I've been putting out about 1.5oz per hour most of today and it's very twingey, twingy, however you spell it. Cripes why is my bladder so very small?? I wonder if I should convert my previous records from my rough estimates into ounces based on this cup. Probably too much work, but I want to make my point that this bugs me. Oh, I just realized. This big honking container is...32oz.! The same amount I had to drink for the ultrasound. And it's like almost the size of one of those tall milk cartons! Okay, not quite, but it sure feels like it is. People really have bladders THAT big? Or even half that big? Jeez.

I never did get to ask if this medication causes weight gain. The experience I had with both Prozac and Lexapro has put me off of being so eager to try any kind of prescription med again, no matter how useful it might be. I would rather be depressed than put on another forty pounds. (Especially seeing as I don't believe my depression has a biological basis.) Too lazy to look it up, I'd probably find a lot of nasty side effects and get all discouraged again.

In a past appointment Psychologist had said that I seem "stronger" lately. The last time I saw her, I admitted I had no idea what she meant, as, even though I talk more during sessions, I've just felt so crushed by life lately, I feel weaker, not stronger. She hadn't meant my talkativeness, she said; "It's that you say, 'Well, I hate doing this, but I'll go through with it, if it helps me get this figured out.'" I don't know, I still don't feel any stronger, I think it's more frustration and resignation than anything. I've found that when I seem to be gaining resolve and actually DOING things, it's usually out of sheer frustration rather than any sort of strength. I don't deal well with frustration, so of course I'll end up going through this crap just to get it figured out. If I dealt better with frustration, then maybe I'd be strong. And not feel so crushed all the time. I can't believe the trees are just about bare already.

Anyway, I'm tired of typing this up and have to go to the bathroom, of course, happy fun pee-transferring time, so tar.

 

Did the 32oz. test a second time at home, got the same results; called the doctor's office and asked the receptionist (as the nurse wasn't available) for advice on what to do as I did not believe I could manage to wait the hour necessary for the renal ultrasound. She advised me to try a half hour, then, as the ultrasound is the easier of the tests available for this procedure--"But if you find that you absolutely can't hold it in, don't sit there and torture yourself, just go to the bathroom and then tell them they were too late, you couldn't hold it in. Because they're going to be pressing on your bladder during this." She was quite understanding and said many of their patients have this problem. I thanked her and decided to go with this, though I still doubted I could manage.

Well, this morning I planned to leave off going to the bathroom before going to the hospital, then drinking the water once we got there since there would be about a half hour wait (we had to register at 9:45 and the ultrasound was at 10:15), but my urination seemed to be up already so I went again as soon as I got to the hospital, then started drinking the water at 9:45 as we were registering. "I see you're drinking the lovely water," the receptionist or whatever joked as I sat there swilling it down while we presented my proof of insurance and whatnot. We went to radiology and sat to wait. Normally I would just be really uncomfortable after a half hour, but today it was excruciating, probably because I had the regular urine coming along with all this water I drank on top of it. I was getting ready to cry and did not think I could take it, but at last the nurse came out and called me and I went into the ultrasound room. She asked if I'd drunk the water, if my bladder was full, it was pretty obvious it was; asked if I was in pain or just uncomfortable because I had to go, I replied the latter, though IMO, I'd rather be in actual pain than have a full bladder, to me that IS pain, thank you very much. I handle physical pain much better than I handle a full bladder. I'm not kidding. She asked me a few more basic questions about the issue and the problems it's presenting (yet again, "When you go to the bathroom, are you actually urinating a lot, or do you feel like you have to go but very little comes out?"--ugh, how many times do I have to tell them, I AM PEEING FRIGGING BUCKETS, thank you very much), then asked if I knew what I was in there for. I knew it was a renal ultrasound but I honestly have no idea what that's for so I said not really. I don't even remember what she said in response, I was so out of it by then. She said she would ultrasound my bladder, then I could use the bathroom and then she would ultrasound my kidneys, thank God. So I had to lie down and she squirted this hot jelly stuff on me and pressed on my bladder just like the doctor's receptionist had said she would. I just grimaced the entire time. At last she finished that and I went to use the bathroom at the side of the room, it honestly hurt just to get it started, the pressure was so much. Ugh.

She'd said she would ultrasound then to see if I were actually emptying my bladder completely even though they've already established that I am. I think they could get a false...negative...on this or something, because the same thing happens when my issues are acting up--the fluid is moving through my system so fast that by the time I'm done using the bathroom and have exited, more fluid has already built up in my bladder, so even though I'd just emptied it completely, I'm sure that by the time I got back on the table there was more in there. Anyway, I had to lie on my back with my right arm behind my head, then on my left side, then on my back, then on my right side while she did a lot of palpating of my sides. I mostly stared at the ceiling but when on my right side I could see the ultrasound monitor and looked for my kidney. I could barely see anything. It was just this big glowing mess of...mess. How can they make anything out of that? I at last could barely see the outline of what looked like a small kidney shape floating in a sea of static though I can't be sure. The nurse kept pausing the image, typing stuff in, making little dots and arrows and whatnot appear on the ultrasound, then taking another image. It was all quite nonsensical to me, but whatever. I'm sure they won't find anything unusual. She at last finished and I went to the bathroom again and kept that up for the next couple of hours, the end.

Throughout all this all I keep thinking is, Libra is supposed to rule the kidneys, that's their problem area. Not sure to think if that's ironic or just stupid or not.

After that it was so wonderful, my urinating went back almost to normal and my bladder was so much less sensitive than it's been the past couple of days, but it feels twingy again now so...*sigh.* My next meeting with the stupid doctor is next week, he'll probably tell me to cut back on the caffeine and prescribe me some pills that Medicaid won't cover or something equally lovely. I wonder how long I'll have to put up with the urologist before I can move on to the next step, whatever that is. At least this stupid part is over, though I know there will be a lot more equally stupid and unpleasant parts to come. Ma says, just be grateful you don't have kidney stones. I say, I would rather have frigging kidney stones, at least they know what kidney stones are and how to treat them. Go figure I'd have something wrong with me that nobody knows what it even is.

What a lovely exploration of the human urinary system my journal/blog has become.

Anyway, this isn't proofed and I just want to go now, so tar.