Fathers Day

Today we went to the semi-local Renaissance Faire; it takes an hour and a half to two hours to get there. It is the first time we have been in a few years. I think it has gotten smaller. I hope that does not mean it will be going away like the old one, that was closer to us, did after a few years. There were not many people there when we got there, about two hours after it opened, but it was pouring rain. After a couple hours more people had shown up and it had stopped raining.

Right after we got there we were in one of the booths that sells costuming. Right before we got there the folks that ran that booth had to poke a hole in the roof because it had been collecting water and starting to bow down in the middle. So water was pouring into the center of the little shop in a stream about the size of a half dollar. My Tinker walks up to it with her mouth open to catch the water. I put my hand on her shoulder to stop her and told her not to do that. She gave me such a look of pure Irish stubbornness, stuck her hand in the water stream and started using it as a cup to drink the water. This kid does NOT drink water, really. I am very glad the water was clean, relatively clean, because she got about five handfuls before we got her to stop (only by leaving that booth). I couldn't help laughing at the look she gave me. The people there were a bit confused at the whole interaction. I saw an opal necklace that really struck my eye. I really don't wear jewelry and didn't want to spend $20 bucks (very reasonable actually) for something I wasn't going to wear so I did not get it. It still calls to me though, odd.

Oh, and they had something this time I had not seen before. I saw him at a distance at first and thought he was the Grim Reaper. But then he was closer and turned toward me and I saw the ridiculous bird mask--A plague doctor! If I were not absurdly interested in history and on top of it being interested in plague and leprosy in history, I would not have a clue to what he was dressed as but if one walked up to him he handed out a little pamphlet telling people about plague doctors. It also gave me the idea to dress up as someone with plague for the fair next time; it could be fun.

We foolishly did not get anything to eat while we were out, except fries for Tink. Both Ron and I were tired and didn't feel like cooking. Morg and he had frozen pizza and I open a can of clam chowder.

Speaking of rain, Springfield got nine inches in a couple hours yesterday, we didn't get any; I sure do not mind not getting nine inches. We did get some today here, about a quarter inch, less than the Ren Faire got. We did get a light and sound show that was awesome. It is nice to be getting rain, this time last year we were in a drought. There has already been more hay cut this year than all of last year. The big sigh of relief of everybody is audible--echoing in the hills. There should be blackberries this year too!

Rainy Day and Killer Cat

I saw one of the oddest things I have ever seen today, and I have seen some odd things in my life. One of the cats, a really good hunter, made a kill of a large rat late this morning; that is not so odd, he does that, kills big rats. What was odd about it is that it was a two-in-one kill. I was working in the garden a little, trying to get something done before it started raining. I heard a noise over by the trash pile and looked up to see my little cat with something in his mouth that was almost as big as he is. As I try to focus on it to see what he had, I see either a rat or squirrel depending on which of the things was its tail. It had what appeared to be a fuzzy tail and a thin mostly hairless one. Meanwhile the cat is walking at a quick clip to a better place to torture his prey.  He stopped just outside of the garden and so I walked over to clarify to myself what I was seeing. It was a rat, a big rat, and hanging off its rear-end was a smaller rat, fully furred but only about 1/5th the size of the big one. The little one hung on to the big one through quite a bit of abuse before it finally got knocked off. It was still alive but barely moved, maybe injury, maybe just plain fear. The cat walked a little ways away to finish off the big one and by this time he had collected a bit of an audience, me, Ron (and his eldest daughter via phone), three dogs, and two other cats. One of the cats tends to wait until "the hunter" is done and cleans up most of the remains, not that he doesn't hunt himself, it is just he gets more this way. I took a stick and flung the small rat his way, he got it. At this point it is starting to sprinkle and the odd spectacle of the double rat catch was over--I still don't get the little one hanging off the big one through the grabbing, the 5o or so yard fast-paced walk to the killing ground, and then the five or so minutes of abuse; it was not a baby, they are hairless, it was too small to consider mating with the big one and that is not the way it was hanging anyway. Just really odd.

Speaking of my little hunter, he has a funny thing he does. If it is dark or the weather really bad, he wants to bring his kills inside, many cats really try to do that, but I, of course, do not let him/them do this. But I discovered one stormy summer evening when I could not keep him out of the den, he would accept a box for it. I got a box big enough for him to move around but not too big, about the size of a case of bottled beer or soda. I put him with critter in mouth in the box, he jumped out at irst but I put him in again and he got it. Now he comes in and verbally demands a box instead of asking to go inside or letting it loose in the den where it could get lost. One time, not that long ago, we didn't have a box and he showed his disfavor by using a laundry basket, that was nasty to clean up. Now we make his boxes live longer by putting newspaper in the bottom and they can usually be reused.

The rain has stopped and I really ought to go see if there is any gardening I can get done. Because of my surgery the garden is way behind. We are going to have almost nothing this year. We do have some seedlings that need planted out and I do want to start some beans even if it is late, but the garden isn't ready for them yet. It is a really good thing we do not have to depend on it to eat (just to eat really good food) because last year we had a lot of stuff planted but so much got that weird curling and didn't produce well and now this year we just couldn't get done. It has been cooler than usual also, some things that enjoy heat are just stuck in limbo waiting for it to warm up. This is the only year I can think of that, when we have had an A/C, we did not turn it on in May. I can only think of two days I even considered it but it was already getting late and the sun would be down soon cooling everything, so it just never happened; here it is more than a week into June and still haven't used A/C. As a matter of fact, it is not supposed to get out of the mid-70's today. The first day of June we didn't make it out of the 60's. It is supposed to get into the 90's this week though so we will probably close the windows and turn the A/C on.

I am really starting to see why the surgeon kept saying about my hernia being big. I was loosing a lot weight prior to the surgery because I was having such trouble eating. I lost any fat I had and my muscle was disappearing, I was getting real skinny yet when I would sit, my belly would be in my lap; I didn't understand that but… Now, even though there is still a hint of swelling from being cut on, my belly is not in my lap. It is not flat, never will be again after two kids and the surgeries, but there is a significant difference. And I had an appointment, my last, with the surgeon last week, it is the first car ride I have taken in years that has not been an experiment in torture. I won't say it didn't hurt but the difference in pain is significant; the difference in an uncomfortable ride and living in fear of having to get into the car. And, yes and, I have not felt the eels in my guts since the surgery. Eels is the only thing that really describes the feelings, not worms, not snakes, it was eels and they are not there anymore. No wonder I was having so many problems, half of my guts were on the wrong side of the muscle wall.  

Gallbladder and Computer: Casualties of April

I guess the surgery went well. The gallbladder was toast and had apparently been bad for some time and was in the process of giving me another bad attack (blocking the bile duct of the liver with a stone) on the day of surgery. And the hernia of the small intestine turned out to be "quite a bit bigger than originally thought," according to the doc, who mentioned this quite a few times to stress the point. I have pictures but I am not going to post them--gross. I left the hospital "against medical advice" because I felt like I was no longer improving and was gong to get worse if I stayed. My blood oxygen level was dropping little by little and I was having trouble breathing. As well as the stress of being there was keeping my intestines locked up (in other words, I wasn't pooing yet) and the doc was monitoring all output so I was not supposed to flush but after the first day no one seemed to check on the little toilet hat thing until I would complain it was about to overflow. Problem was is that my potassium was *very* low. The doc prescribed me supplemental potassium and wanted me to come back in two days for a check. The pharmacy didn't have the right stuff until the next day so I put off the appointment for another day -- from my POV I was supposed to have a full day on the potassium before having blood labs -- and got yelled at by the doc for not coming in when she said. The potassium prescription didn't really work, probably because I would just throw it back up. I was having a horrid problem with that, throwing up that is. They couldn't figure out why I was throwing up all the time, I think it was because of multiple reasons and that it why it was so difficult to track down. Anyway, she pretty much convinced Ron that I should go back into the hospital, I didn't agree but he was the one driving and the doc threatened to fire me as a patient… so back into the hospital. By this time though, my bowels were moving a little and there was still a no flush order. Same as before, well monitored the first day but by the second day the bathroom smelled a bit like an outhouse in summer. I hate hospitals. I won't even begin about the stuff I was being served to ingest. I was released after two days but I think I would have been better off if I would have stayed home where I was less stressed and a lot more comfortable as well as food that I could eat. I had to quit taking the potassium because it was the last thing left making me throw up. I couldn't take it as prescribed anyway because it had to be taken with food and I couldn't eat three times a day and when I did take it I would just loose it and the food I ate. My potassium did recover anyway; I think it was because I was able to eat, finally. That and eating lots of creamy tomato soup.

It has been just shy of six weeks now. I guess I am doing okay. Things are hardly normal as far as my body goes, if I stand or walk for any length of time it feels like my guts are going to fall out. I guess that is not too surprising considering how much my belly has been cut into but I really hope it goes away. Eating is much easier than it has been in a couple of years, honestly, but it makes my belly hurt for about half an hour to 45 minutes. I am still achy and slow but I guess that is normal at this point as I am still not supposed to lift anything plus I was a bit malnourished to begin with. I am starting to get anxious though.

In between my hospital stays, I used my computer to pay bills. When I came out after the second stay Ron said the computer wouldn't turn on. This happened before, late last year, where I couldn't get tit to turn on for days; one light would come on and that would be it. After a few days it came back on. So we waited and hoped, it didn't come back on. Since it was getting close to bill time again it was decided to find someone to look at it--not a promising endeavor in this area. The person we took it to didn't know why it wasn't getting full power and since it was so old (five years) he probably couldn't find parts. This was better than claiming he could fix it and screwing it up (as the last computer person we took it too did when it needed a new fan). He said he could transfer the info from it to another computer though. Fine. I had some money left over from a gift from my dad months ago in prep for this or another sudden need so I got another computer. The guy said he would have it ready by the next morning. He didn't answer his phone all the next day. Finally at about 5:30 pm he finally "finished" it. None of the music file were transferred and there are a couple other files I haven't found that had been on my desktop. Other than that I guess it was worth the $40 we paid him, at least he didn't try to steal the old computer (that happened at another computer repair place around here). I do not like Windows 8 operating system. It is too focused on social networking, videos, games and other such. We do not have the internet speed for games or streaming videos and I do not do social networking and it is hard to get to programs installed after the computer comes home. It has tablet computers and smartphones in mind, not to mention fast internet speed. In the time without the computer and getting used to the new one, I have gotten even less into sitting in front of it. A lot of it is also, probably, is that I have been pretty much an invalid and tend to avoid people and news and other things when I am not feeling good. For instance, I started this blog almost a week ago and got interrupted then just couldn't manage to get back to it until I forced myself today. 

Catching Up

Yesterday, Thursday, we had wet snow and a lot of it. Most places measured 4 inches but everything was, and had been, so warm when it started a bunch melted. On the backyard glass table I got a 7 inch measurement and still think more than that fell because it was almost 40 F when the snow started. Too much for the rain gauge to keep up with so I don't have a clue to the rain equivalent. A lot melted today so now it will be slick tonight and expecting more rain/snow tomorrow. Making up for the drought of last season.

My new glasses are great but I do not like the bifocal line; I have yet to decide if it will cause any real problem as there have been other things going on but it has been nice to be able to see clearly again even if I do have to look around a line. It does bother my neck a bit because I have to use it more where I would just move my eyes but now get the line or the wrong lens. Funny, I did not realize how much I do that.

I do not recall, nor am I going to look back in my blogs, how much I have mentioned my eating problems of late. I love food plus am the main food preparer for a household that has no microwave and uses almost no pre-processed foods. So, I think about food in one way or another for the majority of my waking day. It has been making me sick. Yes, even thinking about food in most cases nauseates me anymore. If I can get past that, I have really bad teeth since my cancer treatments and it can hurt to chew. Then it goes to the stomach that really doesn't want it but cares less which way it sends it. If it sends the food further down, my small intestine seems to like things to hang around until it builds up enough to force it through my ileum which has seemed to have turned into some kind of goalie and tries to keep stuff from passing through without giving it it's painful all. If I don't eat enough food to force more through it starts to ferment, I assume, and develop a bit of gas which will push the last bits out if I do not eat more; this can take days. There really is already "too much information" and what happens when food gets to the remnants of my large intestine gets graphic but, trust me, it is not comfortable in any way, nor slow like the small intestine. So from start to finish, eating has mostly been not worth it. Enough to stay alive is pretty much all I have been eating; I can't ever remember being weaker in my life.

Then on Saturday March 9th I couldn't even keep down water. It was time to do something, I went to the ER in Mountain View. It is a  nice place, small hospital, they told me it would be kind of a long wait. It wasn't that long after  they realized I could not sit up for long. I got a saline drip for dehydration, they discovered I had bottomed out on my potassium so they gave me some of that.  And they gave me something that made my tummy stop turning; that was heaven. The blood work also showed something rather humorous if it hadn't meant I had to go to the West Plains ER to have an ultrasound for something I told them from the start was NOT the problem. I had a possible positive pregnancy test. They would do nothing else, and no one else would either, until it was proven, by visuals, that I was not pregnant. There was no way I could have been, for three reasons, shy of parthenogenesis and I do not believe it is  possible in humans.  Okay, so shy of walking out against medical advice, which certainly would not help my case, I was stuck going to West Plains (I won't get into West Plains hospital but it is scary). Rather than go by ambulance, I had Ron come to get me, I had sent him and the kids home hours before. On the way to get me some idiot dumps a dog on the highway right as Ron is coming over a hill. They pull off, the dog tries to follow them but… Ron stops, opens the door, he said the dog looked after the other car as it pulled over the  hill and then jumped in. He is about 7 months and just got neutered today. Morrigan named him Fire Cloud. He is going to be a big dog. I curse those people with nightmares. Ron is a sucker and I told him so; he also knows I would have done the exact same thing he did. So We travel with the dog to West Plains where it was supposed to take less than two hours but actually took about five to find out that indeed I was not PG. Finally, home again and with enough anti nausea stuff that I can drink and try solids in a few days. Follow up with regular physician.

 I saw a doc on Monday, not my regular but at regular clinic. He took blood. He also mentioned that two of my liver enzymes were way out of whack in the blood draw at the ER. He prescribed some potassium and more stuff for my upset tummy and then called in a couple days to tell me that my liver enzymes were even further out of whack. By this time I was able too see the test results myself and out of whack was putting it mildly. It was scary. Since I am sending this to my brother, like I usually do my dad, I will put in the numbers because my BIL is a doctor.

ALT: norm 15-37, 1st draw 197, 2nd draw 252;

AST: norm 30-65, 1st draw 251, 2nd draw 447

Anyone can see this is a little scary. So they wanted me to have another ultrasound but this time of some other organs besides my uterus. They saw something and didn't tell me. I think they should have. In interest of knowing oneself, I should have been told about this thing they saw--apparently I should have been told in 2008 when they first found it then told again when they saw it in the ultrasound and I could have put their fears to rest. I was told about it today after a CT scan, even though the ultrasound was close to a week ago. I can't remember what she called it, hema-something, which by the sound of it sounded like Latin for blood-filled-sack, and the doc told me I was almost spot on. I have a blood-filled-bubble? attached to my liver, doc says from birth, that straddles the two lobes of my liver. It is under two inches and they seldom do anything with them unless they get to be bigger than four inches. I should have known about this and they should have looked deeper into my gut files but…this thing has nothing to do with the liver enzymes. My last blood draw, Monday, showed My ALT at 126 and my AST at 74; not normal but way more normal than it had been. So, since the "tumor" they thought they had turned out to not be my rectal cancer spreading to my liver, they figure I must have passed a gallstone into my liver that blocked things up but then passed out of the liver by the time they saw it in the ultrasound and CT. I am on for dealing with the gallstones they also found in the second ultrasound. That seems to be a major part of the problems I have been having for the last few years that had just been passed off as remnants of my cancer treatments. On top of that, I have a hernia at my belly button that is affecting my small intestine and I have been complaining about pain there for a while now. I am scheduled for surgery on April 1st; it seems fitting. I could have gotten it done this next week but we just shot the bull and he is hanging. Next week we need to be cutting and wrapping. I can't lift but I can cut and wrap.

Well, that is about it. 

The Eye Doctor Appointment

I made that eye appointment I needed; it was today.

As I glanced back at my blog, to verify that I had in fact written about the eye thing, I noticed that I had mis-written the numbers. My latest numbers (before today) was 39 not 29 and a previous high number in one eye was 29 not 39. So I need to change that online, it has been changed in my private copy and since I have been emailing a copy of my blog to my dad, I am clarifying here that I had made a couple typos.

I took the new glasses back a few weeks ago and told them they were not working well. I could not see distance stuff clearly and while I could find a clear focus point for the "reader" part, it was 8 to 10 inches from my face. I can't read a magazine that close without hitting my nose with the page, spending anytime reading that close gives me a headache because my eyes are being forced to cross to see and I spent much time training that right one NOT to do that, filling out forms or doing a checkbook is impossible at that distance because one's face gets in the way of the pen. You know, that doc told me *he* could read that close. Cool, I can't. So, he decided that my distance lenses were fine and he would change my reader part "back" to 1.5. I asked what he meant by that. He said he would put them back to what I had before, down to 1.5 from the 1.75 that he had raised it to. I told him these were the first bifocals I had ever had. I was wondering how he had missed that. He said he wrote a Rx for a bifocal the time before if I had wanted it he just never bothered to check my glasses or ask about it when I came in this time I guess.  But fine, whatever, change the magnification to 1.5, if it works, great, sorry you missed the obvious and have to change the glasses. But it still is/was not rectifying the fact that looking at anything is out of focus. He checked my eyes and said the Rx was right and was not changed much from my glasses of two years ago. I told him that was a problem because that was why I came in, I was not seeing well with the glasses. He said there was nothing he could do and did I want them to re-order the glasses with the different reader part. No, I got my money for the glasses back. To bad one can't get the money back on a shoddy appointment. I never did hear anything back on the referral to the glaucoma people either. And as it turns out, they have a partner office in town and I did not have to go all the way to the city like that doc had told me; probably because it is in another optometrist's office close by and surprisingly competitively priced to Walmart. And I finally called.

I went to the new eye doctor that was concerned enough about my eye pressure that I got an afternoon appointment on a day they don't do afternoons. As it turned out,  it probably was a good deal for them because we are expecting a nasty weather day tomorrow and so they had called their Thursday appointments and had some come in this afternoon and scheduled others for other dates. But it was kind of a busy office for initially being told I would be the only one there. and it was getting busier. I had to miss my soap opera (pity me) because they would tag me onto the end of the day but people were still coming end after left. I hold no hard feelings, I understand. Anyway…My eye pressures were 14 and 18; normal is 14 to 16. That is what happened the last time an eye doc freaked because  of high pressure. No sign of it by the time a …um…more experienced, yeah, that works, more experienced doc sees me. So I got a class on Glaucoma 101. No real answer on why the variable pressures but it is not unheard of for pressure to fluctuate, just not usually that much. I had already gave myself that class over the last few years though. He was also very informative with how an eye was put together and worked and what happened with lazy ey and whatnot, but I have been dealing with this my whole life and took various biology classes in college (even got to dissect an eye). I was polite and smiled and listened without letting drag out too far any of his "lessons" by letting him know I knew by asking a question from a point beyond what he was talking about. It was the first time I had talked about the patch therapy in many years. That is where one with a lazy eye where a patch on the strong eye to force the weaker  one to make connection with the brain. It works well if started young enough. And it worked very well for me; though my right eye has always been a wimpy little brother to the left, it works well enough that if I lost the use of my left I can do  utilitarian reading and could watch TV, and generally get around; I would not be close to blind. We talked for a while about the occasional visuals I thought was high pressure, it is not. By description he suggested what it was. I am choosing to tentatively believe him, need more research. I had a gynecological surgeon suggest the same thing to me back in '94. When she suggested it I had never heard of it and doubted it and I have never heard of it again until today when the eye doc said it. That is good enough to look into it. So, what the heck is "it"? A certain type of migraine that is considered "painless." Considered painless because it is not a typical migraine with extreme pain but  it has some mild pain or often a lot of pressure  involved. Maybe. I'll look into it; some of those visuals could be scary if I weren't used to them.

Okay, so after the talk/lesson on the biology of the eye and glaucoma he takes a look at my eyes. He told me that my optic nerve, the thing damaged with glaucoma, was boring; there was no damage no anything that looked to be the slightest worry of even developing glaucoma at this point. I had no sign of cataracts, nor macular degeneration. I should just have the pressures checked every time I go for new glasses. This has been a bit of an emotional roller coaster over the last ten years, albeit not constant, and certainly a back burner during the cancer treatments and stuff, but the concern of  the high eye pressure and possible blindness has been there. Now…I guess don't worry about it until further notice.

I did have more confidence in this guy after the first few minutes than I have had with the last few eye docs even after a few visits. I talked to him about the problems with the current glasses and the ones that were supposed to replace them. He told, and showed, me that the doc Rxed my readers at 2.75 not 1.75 in order for my focal point to be that close. Wow, glad I got out of that place with little damage. I am really hoping that my new glasses will be good. One and a half weeks...

Petitions and POV: Mostly Guns and Bullying

I wind up signing  a lot of online petitions; I do not remember when or why I signed the first one, chances are it was a gay rights petition over ten years ago. Once one signs one they send, via email, other petitions that they think one might sign and in quite a few cases the petitions are something of interest. I still sign a lot of LGBT petitions, an occasional unjustly jailed one, lots of anti-GMO food ones, some environmental ones, etc. All of the sudden, in the last few weeks, I have been getting all sorts of gun control/anti-gun petitions sent to me. Man, they are hitting up on the wrong person here. So I think that a gay person has rights, I think that BP should have to clean up the spill, I think that food should be real and honest without genetic manipulation, gobs of pesticides and other poisons, or without unneeded antibiotics and hormones---where does that give the idea I think guns are a bad thing? Venison is healthier and more natural than most beef. And, personally, I do not want to have to devise a way to kill our beef humanely without a gun, bovine heads do not usually succumb to a baseball bat, a shot is quicker and cleaner. Now, let us also consider the occasional sick wild animal that walks into the yard. There have been sick skunks and raccoons that have walked into our yard, or down the road, in the pasture, whatever, critters that have had distemper or quite possibly even rabies. Using a gun to dispatch the poor thing seems a lot safer and more humane than any other option. It puts the critter out of its misery and helps keep the disease from spreading to both wild and domesticated animals.

I am a strong believer in gun control, anyone that owns a gun should be able to control it.

I also believe that if more people were armed then there would be less crime. If someone walks into a convenience store to rob it right now he or she is pretty confident that the only gun will be in his or her possession. If one in five people were armed, that would take away that "confidence" and make the robbery a lot less likely.

If guns are illegal, only the criminals will own them (leaving the rest of the people to their so-called mercy.)

An armed society is a polite society. That is an older saying, it is true to a point, somewhat considering what one thinks of as polite. Some people have equated that politeness to fear of the armed but I do not. A gun, whether a handgun or rifle or shotgun, for that matter, a howitzer or cannon, is a tool. I am no more afraid a "normal" person holding a gun that I am of one holding a hammer--hammers are often used in deadly crimes too, don't forget, but no one is trying to make them illegal. Wouldn't it have been neat if some of the people in the Aurora CO theater shooting would have been armed? Good chance that one of them would have had a clear shot and could have stopped some of the killings? And the Columbine high school shooting--everyone seems to forget they had been working on bombs in the garage before they got guns; they had taken their bombs to the school but the bombs failed. If they had not gotten the guns they probably would have perfected the bombs and a lot more people would be dead. And what if there had been armed teachers there?  I am for arming teachers if they are willing; I won't force a gun on anyone that doesn't feel comfortable. I am one of those people that are not particularly comfortable with firearms. I do know gun safety. I do know how to use them and am not the worst shot even though I never practice. I just am not comfortable using them and let others that are comfortable take care of issues when needed if someone like that is around when the need arises. I still am thankful there are guns around, all around, my neighborhood.

In actuality, I really dislike guns; they are loud, they smell bad, can be dangerous, and I am sure with a few moments I can come up with other things I don't like about them but it doesn't matter. They were invented long ago and have numerous uses and are not intrinsically bad. I can change the word guns to cars in that first sentence and it would still be pretty much true. But cars are newer and while transportation might not be a bad thing, I think they need a lot more work than guns do.

I also think that stopping bullying in schools would go a lot further toward ending school shootings and other violence than making guns illegal.

School bullying is one of the biggest ignored crimes in this country. I went to a lot of different schools growing up. I was often a victim, at first, I would fight back and it would stop, until I went to a new school and then I had another fight or two…  I was very often a witness of bullying; it saddens me. Sometimes, I stopped someone from bullying of others; I really regret not doing more of that. I really should have interfered more. Part of me was just happy it wasn't me, part of me was tired of fighting, it hurts even when one wins and causes problems with the school faculty. But some was that I thought maybe they would learn to fight back like I did. What I know now is that if the ability to fight back physically and or psychologically is there it generally manifests early, as mine did. Some poor folks just have to take it if they have no champion, as I should have been. Then there are the others that snap, maybe it is that they learn to fight back too late to know how to do it right and take a whole lot of people with them that might or might not have deserved it.

Yeah, I do believe bullying is the cause; it fits every one of them. And I understand the fantasy of taking out your bully and the other peoples bullies and the ones that let the bullying happen, even egged it on in some cases. Yes, I have seen teachers do that, egg it on. I never had a teacher encourage my bullying right in front of me but I have had the next best thing. Seventh grade math class. An important and timed test. The guy behind me started kicking my chair. I asked him to stop. It got worse. I told him to stop. It got worse. My chair was being kicked hard enough to move it inches at a time. I kept telling him to stop it. I had my hand raised, and was practically waving it like I saw a ship from a deserted island, trying to get the teacher to pay attention which he was blatantly not doing. My chair was now moving around quite a bit as the guy now had his foot hooked into my chair and was giving my a ride back and forth, to and fro. I finally stood up and yelled at the kid to STOP KICKING AND DRAGGING MY CHAIR AROUND since the teacher was purposely ignoring the situation. Do you know what happened then? The teacher finally decided his attention was needed. He yelled at me to stop disrupting the class, then he said (not yelled) the talking was bad enough but me standing up and yelling was the last straw and I had to take the rest of my test in the hallway. Unfortunately, at that age I was way too embarrassed to take advantage of the nice quiet school hallway to finish my test with a decent state of mind. The fact is I felt, and had been, betrayed by my teacher. And he had, up until that time, been one of the few teacher I had had that I thought was really good and worthy of true respect not just that "polite respect" we  all use to get along. I sat in that hallway seething with anger, burning with embarrassment, shattered by betrayal, and very alone. I had already seen teachers, and other faculty, lying to my parents about things I had been reprimanded for and it probably happened more often than I saw. A short digression here:

Second grade, teacher mispronounced my name and I politely corrected her. She didn't believe me, even told me that there was no such name. When I told her that it was the right way to say it she called me a liar, told me that was the end of it right now I had to miss recess and she called my mom with the charge of me lying. I guess that right at the beginning of the call my mom corrected her on how to pronounce my name and my charge of  lying turned into a charge of talking back to the teacher without my mom ever finding out the whole story. (We talked about that incident many, many years later.)

So back to seventh grade…This really wasn't a good year for me in general. Honestly, I am not sure seventh grade is a good year for 99% of the people in the US but it was a very bad year for me and I was at that point very close to doing something drastic. I do not know why I did not. Maybe it was just the small thing that I knew how to get back at the guy that was messing with my chair--and I did but I won't tell anyone how, and if he is dead it isn't my doing. But I still felt total impotence because of the teacher and I never trusted another one again (until I started back in college in my 30's).

I started doing drugs in eighth grade. It was kind of funny because I was such a nerd in seventh grade and this was one of the few times I switched grades without moving. Even though it was a different school it was the same people. I enjoyed the smoking of pot and it was hard for quite a few of the "burnouts" to accept at first. I was still going to school but hanging in the alley during breaks. Soon all the burnouts were getting me to help them with homework (I would not do someone's homework but would help them understand it). Eighth grade was also the first time since kindergarten I can not recall getting into a fight with a bully--I was not picked on and I had friends even if they were usually stoned. I did not give my teachers crap unless they gave it to me. I only really had trouble with the vice principal of that school and my constant detentions were one of the things that got me in tight with many people. What a legacy, huh?

About a month or so into my freshman year in high school my algebra teacher was explaining something and the people behind me were talking to loud  for me to hear him. I asked him to repeat it. He said, "Repeat it? What? Are you stupid?" That was my last straw for public school. I told him in no uncertain terms that I was not stupid, he was for not realizing what was happening in his classroom, I couldn't hear him but now realize that he was not worth listening to, that teachers shouldn't call their students stupid even if they are. He told me to go to the office, he wouldn't even let me collect the books from my desk which were for not only that class but two others.  I understood the first part but not leaving the books part. It bit me in the butt for not taking them anyway. By the time I had gotten to the office the bell had rung and classes switched. I had to talk to a councilor and there went most f the next class. When that class ended I was supposed to collect my books and go to the  next class. My books were no longer in the desk. The teacher claimed to have no idea as to their whereabouts. So, I got in trouble for losing my books. I was not allowed back into that algebra class and was going to fail it--the first class I  would have ever failed even with all the other trouble I had had dealing with school I still never failed. I gave up on school the very next day after being berated by one of the teachers for still not having my book. I kind of gave up on mainstream society because it supported such an institution.

Actually, there was one more shot at public school in a different town. I was  betrayed by the school again. Big surprise. But even my sister and brother-in-law thought the school was screwed up. Too bad it was really too late for me.

I never stopped learning, even was introduced too a school that worked well. But it was unaccredited and even if the school hadn't closed with me one or two credits shy of graduation, the diploma was worth nothing. Oddly, with two days cramming after years of not being in school, I got a way better score on my GED than the average high school graduate.

I could have gone the other way, and guns were very easy to get when I was a kid in school, but I had a defense from the bullying both mental and physical (that I had the ability to fight back with fists and self-worth mentality and that smoking pot got me friends that would actually stand up for me). Bullying is much more the cause of violence than guns are, those poor people are at their wits end with no defense, and no champions. Some teachers are as much to blame.

Gosh, I do go on once I start.

Been too Long Since I wrote Blog

I guess it has been a while since I have written; I was aiming for posts a little closer than the last one to this one but I guess I am not too far past my goal. So, what has been going on?

I got new glasses but they are not right and I need to go back. I tend to have problems with going anywhere anymore so I'll have to work that out. The optometrist is only there on Tuesdays and Thursdays and my body doesn't always agree, not to mention that this last Tuesday was Christmas and even if I felt like going, it wouldn't have helped. When I went in for the eye check-up my inter-ocular pressure was at 29 39 in both eyes. That is high, about twice as high as it is supposed to be. The doc didn't think I was taking it seriously because I probably sounded a little focused on the fact it was the same in both eyes, which seems a little odd to me. Yeah, I do understand my sight is/was in eminent danger based on those readings. Heck, one time they measured at 39 29 in one and I think it was 32 in the other. That doc was having a conniption fit because I was not prepared to just start putting drops in my eyes that I knew nothing about that very day.  Still haven't used the drops even though I do know a little more about them, I still have questions that have not been asked or answered because it never came up again until now. That very high reading was somewhere around 8 years ago, in the autumn--oddly, the autumn part figures heavily in this. Because I was not ready to just start medication without researching it, he insisted I go to an ophthalmologist at least and have my eyes checked again and preferably start on the eye drops. He even found a guy that would  do it mostly pro bono. But every time my pressures were checked by him, three times, once every three months, my pressure was fine. I had my eyes checked for glasses a few more times before this last one, each time it was spring, summer, or winter. Never a problem. Okay, so here comes late autumn and a new eye check, pressures were way high, not at doc throwing a conniption but he was a bit scared nonetheless. He is a bit younger so chances are it was the highest he has ever seen. So he wants me to go to a ophthalmologist, all the way in Springfield. I should go but can't afford it. They sent a referral and the place was supposed to call. The place called because they got a fax and the only legible thing on it was part of my name and my phone number. I told them who sent the fax to them so they could get more info and I have not heard anything back and it has been a couple weeks now. It sounds like they are less concerned than I am.  I am worried, a little. The thing is, it only seems to happen in the autumn, I know the feeling of the eye pressure being high--I didn't realize that is what it was until this last check but it came clear then. I have been having this since I was a little kid, and even complained about my eyes hurting. Not only did no one (mostly meaning medical pros) really seem to pay attention, I was told the eye does not actually feel pain. All I could think of when I heard that is, "I am being lied to."  If one looks up glaucoma, one will find that eye pain is one of the symptoms of high inter-ocular pressure. No wonder I have a distrust of the medical profession. Yeah, that shot won't hurt either, right. It really ticks me off when they lie to my kids too. After they say it won't hurt, I tell them it will. I tell them it will hurt but only a little, that they have had much worse and it will last only a very short time and they can deal with it. THAT is the truth, not that it won't hurt, that is a flippin' lie. Anyway, back the eye pressure. Okay, so the high pressure damages the optic nerve and will kill peripheral vision. Very high pressure can blind one in an evening. If one sees what they call "halos' then one should get to the ER. No one has been very clear on what they mean by "halos" and I see them around all lights at nighttime; but my halos and their halos didn't seem to be the same halos. I think I might have just recently figured out  what they are talking about--I wouldn't call them halos but…it was more like staring at the afterimages of staring at the Las Vegas strip or a carnival midway lights in the dark. You know, stare at the mass of lights them close your eyes and you still sort of see them but they are different colors and act a tad different. And this happens when my eyes are open or closed at times--only in the autumn though that I can recall. So I have had this problem for many years. So far, there is no visible damage to my optic nerve, according to both docs that got the high reading and the specialist that was checking my eyes seven or eight years ago. I have exceptional peripheral vision, it might even be better than my straight on vision but then true focus is not required in peripheral vision. If I stick my thumb in my ear I can see my pinkie when I am looking straight ahead. And that stupid little talent is as strong as ever while my center vision is getting horrid. Gee, could I be medically atypical and the pressure is affecting center vision instead of peripheral? I am not sure if that is possible in glaucoma but if it is, I bet  that is what is happening to me. If not, then I am still medically atypical in the fact that I still have vision by the way these docs are acting. It really irks me that things I want monitored they want to act on and the things I have real issues with (intestinal) I am getting blown off about but that is what is affecting my life in the most negative way. I learned some management techniques for my eyes long ago when I was being blown off on them. I know I need to watch the pressure, the situation could well be getting worse but by golly I am really, really tired of being afraid to eat.

Christmas went well. My youngest wanted a guitar but also knew how much they cost.  Her aunt got her one. I am a nasty mom sometimes. Rather than put it under the tree, I printed out a picture of one and put it in a small box, wrapped it up and stuck it deep under the tree to be one of the last to be opened. She was so great about the fact that the one thing she wanted most was not there. She was happy with the things she got. When she opened the little box and looked at the picture she was a  little confused but when I came walking out of the bedroom carrying her new guitar she almost cried.

I was going to write a little about the elder child too but this is long already and it will take a bit. Hopefully in the next couple days.