V is for Value of Life


522396_476019472472100_180517309_nYes, I’m still working my way through the A-Z blog challenge posts, but I’m almost there, darn it all! Since there’s been so much talk recently about abortion and right-to-life and pro-life and pro-choice and all that, I wanted to talk a little bit today about the Value of Life. Now, before you think you know where this is going, please stick with me, because it’s not what you think it’s going to be. Promise.

First, I’ll start with the upfront abortion issue, since that’s always such a calm, peacefully discussed topic of conversation these days. I don’t know anyone who is pro-abortion. I don’t know anyone who is going out to say people should have abortions left and right just for the fun of it. Even people who are pro-choice can be pro-life, that is, FOR life, but still think that a woman shouldn’t have her body legislated. That all said, I am pro-choice. I say that right now while I sit here typing this and realize that I am so very much pro-life for myself. I want to live. I have a right to live. I get angry every time I think that my life might be cut short from this illness, and it’s not like I made a choice. So yeah, I’m pro-my-life for sure.


An Open Letter to Dr.s About Pain Management


Dear Doctors:

Knowing that you’re medical practitioners, you should understand, clearly,the difference between dependence and addiction. One can be dependent on a medication without being addicted to it. It’s also possible to be addicted to a medication and not actually be physically dependent upon it (psychological dependence is a given).

That said, I am dependent upon the medication I take for heart rate control for my pulmonary arterial hypertension. If I were to stop taking the medication abruptly, there is a small chance I could die. I could have high blood pressure for a short time after coming off it abruptly, and there’s a warning that abruptly stopping it could cause a heart attack. Doctors have to wean the patient off the medication slowly to avoid these problems, even when the patient exhibits no need for the medication any longer.

The prednisone I take, I am dependent upon. The prednisone, when taken at higher doses for long periods of time will shut down the adrenal glands. If you simply stop taking it, you can go into adrenal crisis and you could die. To prevent this, when doctor’s take a long-term prednisone patient off this medication, they wean them down, VERY slowly, sometimes over the period of a year or longer, one milligram dosages at a time, until the patient’s adrenal glands kick back in again (assuming they even do).

But I am not addicted to my heart rate medication. I am not addicted to prednisone cialis kaufen schweiz. I am dependent upon both of them, absolutely. That all said, doctors hand out medication like this, medications that cause dependency in the body (all anti-depressants, all blood pressure medications, most heart medications in general, all immune-modifying or immune-suppressing medications) like candy to patients without a second thought.

But don’t tell a doctor you have pain. There is no ‘candy’ for that. (more…)



The pain comes in waves. It is unrelenting and yet cyclical. It is stabbing and sharp and dull and achy. It is overwhelming all my senses. I can’t think. I can’t move. I can’t even breathe without feeling it. I go to the doctors and I tell them I hurt. They nod their heads like they understand. They do not understand. When I tell them that they don’t understand, that they aren’t getting it, they smile and nod knowingly at me.

Tell me what it feels like, the doctors will ask. I want to understand your pain, they’ll tell you.

Motherfucker, it hurts. That understandable enough? (more…)

U is for Ultrasound


I’ve had many ultrasounds in my life. When I was pregnant with both my kids, ultrasonography was a joyous, wonderful experience where you get to see your baby for the first time, before he or she is born. Back when my kids were little, ultrasounds made the babies look like little blobs and fuzzy white lines on a black background. Only rarely could one make out the approximate shape of a baby. How the heck they could find boy and girl parts from those fuzzy images, I’ll never know. Today, the new ultrasound technology is much better. I’m almost envious, but not nearly enough to go back and have another baby–good God, no. I love my kids, but… no, no, no, no, and hell no.

I’ve also had breast and axillary sonography. My boobies are disproportionately big for the rest of my body, and mammogram isn’t easy with big boobies. You women with small breasts might think mammograms are rough, but you’ve got it lucky compared to us melon gals, because they have to compress and squeeze those suckers between the plates–I left bruised! But I also have swelling and fluid retention in the lymph gland area, so they did ultrasonography under my arms and along the side of the breasts, just to rule out anything major.

I had some swelling that was weird and uneven in my knee once, so they did ultrasound on it. That wasn’t so bad. It was nearly identical to the sonograms when you’re pregnant, except they did it on the knee instead.

But there’s another type of ultrasound that I’ve had done three times now, and if I never had to do it again, it won’t be soon enough. (more…)

T is for Thyroid-Hypothyroid, to be Exact


When I first started getting sick, close to about 8 or 9 years ago now, maybe as much as 10 years ago–man, has it really been that long? Wow. Okay, let me start over. I had always been quite healthy, most of my life. I never got sick as a kid, rarely even had the sniffles or a cold. I never missed a single day of school in all the years I went to school as a child. I had, at one time before I lost them in one of my many moves over the years, a perfect attendance certificate for every year I was in school. Pretty impressive, eh?

Well, not really, since it was mostly because I’d rather be at school than be home… but at the same time, I really rarely ever got sick. Except for accidents–of which I had plenty (I seemed to like to break bones and bust my head open as a child–not on purpose, mind you, but yeah)–my parents never even took me to the doctor, really. No need.

When I was in my early 30s, my body started changing. It was little things, at first, subtle enough that it was easy enough to blow it off to just getting a little older. Then I started to have muscle weakness, spasms in my back, and pain in my left shoulder. Then facial twitches. I blew most of it off, popped some Tylenol or Ibuprofen, move on with life. I was a single mom, with two kids, bills to pay, a mortgage, a car payment, you know the drill–you do what ya gotta do. (more…)

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