My blog's been getting hits, so in case that's from anyone wondering why I haven't updated, I'm still here, just not doing very well. It's gotten worse since the last entry, including flareups of 12 hours, 19 hours (I broke down and had to call Psychologist just to make it through the weekend after that one), and, yesterday and the previous night, over 24 hours; during these the fluid loss isn't as great, it just flares up and lets up then flares up then lets up while I'm letting out just enough to keep me from being able to sleep or function yet too little to dehydrate me. I'm down to drinking no more than 3 cups of fluid a day (plus I'm bloated and not losing weight) but it doesn't matter, I can't understand where it's coming from. I did get almost two weeks of wonderful, regular sleep, and a few days where it didn't act up that badly, but yesterday ended that. Fortunately I was able to sleep moderately okay last night (probably with the help of the pseudoephedrine I took to help me breathe as I've been crying so much my head is stuffed--pseudoephedrine is a stimulant but makes me groggy), but all I ever feel like doing anymore is sleeping (not that I'm able that much), lying in the tub, or crying, so I don't feel like typing up an entry that much either. There's minimal support from anyone around me so that just compounds matters; I could maybe handle this a bit better if I had some encouragement and sympathy, but aside from Psychologist (who I get to see so rarely), that's not the case; I'm basically on my own. I had to dig out a big stuffed dog of mine and hug it last night, I felt so miserable and needed something to hold on to.

I could deal with this better if I knew for a fact that eventually somebody would find out what's wrong with me and help me, but I don't, and that's killing me, that this could be permanent and I might never get to go to my island or sleep or function properly again. There isn't even any pattern to this, except in that it continually gets worse. I went to the trouble of picking a female doctor in case I need to be examined but all she did was the absolute minimum--blood and urine tests--before shuttling me off to see a (male) urologist. I'm glad the urologist is located in Cheboygan (don't know about any other specialists I'll end up seeing, probably not) and I get to see him next month (ditto), but I believe he'll just do the absolute minimum of tests too before shuttling me off to yet another person who'll do the absolute minimum before shuttling me off. It's the story of my life. Recall when I was applying for disability? There were at least three, maybe more, people online who vowed--I'm not exaggerating--to go out of their way, "to the ends of the earth," as one put it, to help me through the process. How did they help? One bailed out after a few encouraging words, one pretty much snapped at me to get off my butt and get a job, and the one who promised to go to the ends of the earth told me to Google disability lawyers in the Cheboygan area and that was it, didn't hear from her again. That's just one example of many when people promised--like the female doctor I chose--to help me through a problem, then after the absolute minimum, shrugged their shoulders, said, "Oh well, better luck elsewhere!" then shuttled me off to yet another person who vowed to do their best before waffling a bit and giving up and moving on. I realize I need to put some effort into things, but I have been--twice I've had to call to get my test results because they weren't bothering to call me first--and how am I supposed to believe my life and I are worth anything when nobody else seems to believe they are? At least that's what these lukewarm "efforts" are telling me.

Even when it's not acting up, it feels like it's acting up, so I can't win no matter what the case. My life has boiled down to me sitting in the house all day crying, trying to read, lying in hot water, and looking out the windows at the birds. The birds and squirrels and the cat are my only companions anymore. My OCD--my compulsion to follow my routines no matter how little I feel like it--I have to wake up at such-and-such a time, I have to do my Internet at this time, I have to do my writing, I have to feed the birds--is the only thing that's keeping me getting up every day at all. I don't have any other real reason to bother.

So as you can see, I don't really feel like updating or doing much of anything anymore. I just want this all over, however that happens. I'd be perfectly content with just not waking up someday. My life was lousy enough before, but now even my own body is turning on me; I feel like every day a little bit more of what little I had of a life is being taken away. It's like my entire purpose in being alive is to just be crushed a little more, every day. I don't really have much left in me to crush, not that I had much to begin with.

There were a few semi-good observations and such mixed in with all the above, but I haven't the desire or energy to write about them. Plus I think it might be starting up again now; it's sad, when getting a few hours or one night of sleep is the best you can hope for anymore. I don't know when I'll next update so that's all.

 

My exercise and Kitty's outdoors time were just interrupted by the arrival of a large gangly black Lab puppy. I came around the corner of the house to find both of them in the side yard greeting each other. Ugh. ;_; The puppy gamboled around me spastically while Cozbug just fluffed like a Halloween cat; when the dog got too near him, he hissed and slapped it across the face so it yelped, and there was even drool dripping from his--Coz's, I mean--mouth. Scary. I tried to separate the two and distract the puppy and tell Coz to run for the porch, but he ran for a tree instead and climbed a quarter up it, and so I tried to coax the puppy toward the porch instead, but it ran for the tree and Coz then climbed halfway up. ;_; I finally got the puppy's attention enough to get it over to the porch where I locked it and then went to coax Coz back down if I could since he was so very high up. I was afraid he might not come down, but he started clawing his way back to the bottom and ran for the back porch door, but that was where the puppy was contained and I had to get him to the front porch instead. By the time I reached him he had started to climb the tree in the concrete circle. ;_; I plucked him off, murmuring reassuring words as I carried him down the driveway to the front porch, only to realize that my feet were TERRIBLY wet and I wasn't sweating THAT bad--Coz had just peed all over me! ;_; Ugh. I managed to deposit him inside the house, then went back around to the back porch to let out the puppy, it's a wonder it didn't piddle all over my jacket. I stood outside with it a few moments trying to coax it to leave and go back wherever it came from but it was just getting more and more rambunctious, just gnawing like crazy on my hand. Seriously, I wonder if it was trying to pull me back where it came from like Lassie taking Timmy somewhere or something. It just would not let go of my hand. I'm used to being gnawed on by dogs, I don't mind, but it was starting to hurt and I was worrying that the dog would start to get violent--who knows, I haven't a clue what this dog is like--so I started trying to make my way back toward the porch, the dog gnawing on me all the way. I wonder if anyone was watching us, this poor girl with this dog attached to her hand, just saying over and over again, "Yes, that's pee. That's your fault. Okay, not so hard. Bad dog. Bad dog has to go back where it came from. Yes, that's my cat's pee. That's your fault."

"If I throw a stick, will you leave?" I asked it as I neared the door, since it was honestly not letting up. I picked up the nearest twig and tossed it, which distracted the puppy enough for me to reach the porch and shut the door. It came back and looked in at me with its ears pricked and such huge disappointed eyes. I cracked the door to tell it it was nothing personal and it had to go back where it came from so I could see to my poor cat, go on, be a good doggy, bye-bye. Even after I shut the door and started up the steps, I heard it launch itself at it with a thud. Ugh. ;_;

Inside Kitty was still poofed up and quite unhappy and I seriously had to change my clothes. Cripes, it's not even the middle of the week yet and I have to change into my other set of houseclothes. Honestly, Kitty. Peeing all over me like that. WTF. I didn't even get to finish my exercise, I still had like seven minutes left. I'm sure all this gamboling about with the puppy used up about as much energy, but still, I'm just anal that way. I have a timer and everything. But I wasn't about to go back out and face Happy Psycho Handchewing Puppy again. *sigh*

After changing I petted the Cheesebug to calm him down and gave him some treats, don't know if he's touched them yet, he's back to normal by now at least. Not so my clothes, I've had to set them on the hamper; as if I haven't been smelling pee enough lately what with my own issues, now I have to smell his. Ugh. Washed my mangled hand, which is covered with dog teeth welts and even a few scratches; put some alcohol on it for good measure since we haven't anything else. Went back outside to peek around and see if Happy Psycho Puppy was still around, he wasn't. Good. Hope he went back home. Stupid f**king pet owners who can't keep watch of their pets, what if he ran out in traffic or met up with somebody not so willing to let their hand get mangled by a happy psycho puppy? What if their dog hadn't been so friendly and had attacked my cat? Granted, I could and should keep a better eye on my own pet as he was wandering about our yard, but I was only around the corner, and the owners of this dog, whoever they are, aren't anywhere in sight. I'm trying to think, I don't believe he even had a collar or tags. Just this gangly black Lab with a white foot. I seem to recall us seeing a similar dog wandering about before so he probably lives nearby and went safely back home, but still. We're right on a highway and at a junction of roads. It's all too easy for him to get killed. Why even have a dog if you won't keep an eye on him.

I'm starting to feel depressed again...that's why I haven't been journaling, this medical issue has become so problematic that it's overshadowing everything else and I'm losing all interest in doing anything. It hasn't been so bad the past few days, but the other day I spent seven hours in and out of the bathroom and lost as many cups of fluid within the same period of time, and today's looking like the same as it's been acting up since around 10:30 AM and is still bothering me. It'll let up and let me think it's done, then it'll come back fifteen minutes later. I missed going to the powwow because I can't tell when I'll need a bathroom or not, and that pretty much shoots down any chances of going to the island or anywhere else again... -_-

Oh CRUD! I just saw the Animal Control van go by...I saw it go by earlier this morning but paid it no attention...and as it passed there were yapping puppy sounds coming from it! The poor thing...I hope its owners manage to get it in time. Stupid f**king owners. Jeez I hope it doesn't have a disease.

Have to go now, not proofed, tar.