Being positive...

Apparently I'm not done writing yet. It feels good to write.

Here are a few positive things:

1. I'm down to 168 pounds. I haven't weighed this little (why does that sound weird?) since 2005. I'm flabby as fuck, but that's because I haven't worked out in almost a year. Damn chubby appendages.

2. Thankfully I have a job where I can work from home. I asked for a laptop at Minnow once, you know, to actually OFFER to work nights and weekends when I was on the Oracle project and they said no. I DON'T WORK THERE ANYMORE! YIPPEE!

3. I can watch movies and read.

4. The bucket list I mentioned in my earlier post doesn't exist, but when I was at my lowest this week, these are the thoughts that popped into my head:

I never went to art school.

I never went around the world.

I never fell in love and got married.

I never published my own comic.

I never gave myself the satisfaction of being proud of my body by wearing a bathing suit without shorts. (I almost wrote bikini, but I don't think that will ever happen.)

I never let go and allowed myself to love me and my life to the fullest.

There's my bucket list. This is positive because now I know where to focus my energy once I have it back.

5. I am grateful for my parents. They have and would drop anything to help me. After all we've been through, I realize now I am very lucky to have them.

I love my therapist.

I haven't seen Cee since September. I am long overdue for a session so she and I have been playing phonetag to set up an appointment. I emailed her yesterday to tell her what was going on and that I'd call her back as soon as I can. She responded with this just now:

Dear Thighs,

It sounds that you have been having a very challenging year! Keep your good spirit up and let this dis-ease pass you.

Try not to hate it. Hate is a force and when we try to force something we get resistance. See if you can approach it "with ease".

I am sending good energy and thoughts your way. Call me when you are ready.

Much Love
Cee

I feel better.

I want it back.

As crazy as it sounds, I was thrilled to find out I have mono. I am no longer thrilled.

I've written about my frustrations with being sick and not knowing what was wrong, but truthfully I haven't written as much as I wanted to the last couple of months fearing I'd sound like a whiny, ungrateful, depressed hypochondriac.

Well, fuck it.

I HATE THIS. I HATE THIS FUCKING YEAR. I HATE FEELING LIKE SHIT. I HATE THAT I CAN'T DO WHAT I FUCKING WANT TO DO.

Friday I felt better than I have in months. Just knowing what was wrong helped lift my spirits. I was Happy with a capital H.

Saturday I started my medication. My hysterical and embarrassing medication. The neurologist prescribed me Valtrex. HA! Apparently it helps ease the symptoms of Epstein-Barr, chronic fatigue, and mono. I was on herpes meds for the kissing disease. Oh you!

Notice I wrote "was on." Sunday MDLL and I went out for an early dinner. I felt really good until about halfway through my meal when I got queasy. I thought maybe it was the sliver of pumpernickel bread and third of a margarita combined with the meds, so I stopped eating. A few hours later I was in the same anxious, woozy, and lightheaded state I frequently was earlier this year. It sucked. Unfortunately I couldn't relax because I needed to pack for my four day business trip to Philly. Timing is an amazing concept.

Monday I felt okay. I was able to make it to Philly and focus at work for the most part. By the evening I was a mess again. As soon as I ate dinner I passed out. It was scary how sudden it happened.

Tuesday was a little better. I decided to decrease my dosage from four pills a day down to two. I'm glad I did because Wednesday was a shit show.

I ate breakfast (muesli with currants, apple slices, cranberries). The neurologist also said to take B12 everyday so at around 10:30am I took it with a banana and a little coffee. About an hour later I got sick. I couldn't get out of my chair. I was so woozy I was afraid to stand up. At noon everyone left to go to lunch and I just sat there wondering if I should go to the hospital. My throat closed up, I couldn't focus, my heart was pounding because I was in a full blown panic. I finally managed to get up and walk to where everyone was eating lunch by doing some lamaze breathing along the way. I thought maybe I just needed to eat something, but once I got into the conference room and looked at the food I knew I had to leave. I turned to this one really nice woman who knew I had mono and said I need to lay down. She took one look at me and said go to the hotel and call us if you need anything.

I got to the hotel and started hysterically crying. I'm not quite sure how to describe how I felt. There's no pain, just this horrible wave of exhaustion, nausea, and anxiety. I didn't know if I should call an ambulance or what, so I did what most helpless 33 year old single women do. I called my mom. After much debate we decided since I didn't have the energy to leave on my own my dad would come get me. That's twice this year he came to my rescue.

Around 2:30pm I had just enough energy to pack, check out, and call Iron (my boss in case you forgot) to tell her what happened. I was so embarrassed, but there wasn't any choice. She was really nice about it, even offered to come get me herself. Thank Shizza.

At 3pm I decided I needed to eat something again. I'm still off the bread, so whenever I order a sandwich I just eat the insides. I had some turkey, cheese, lettuce, and tomato. Why am I telling you everything I ate that day? Because BOOM, I was sick immediately after I ate again.

I got to Jackson around 7pm. The rest of the night I just laid there and cried. All of my symptoms from this year came back. I couldn't sleep so since the Valtrex knocks me out I decided to take one pill at 1am. It worked.

The next morning I felt like shit again, so my mom said enough is enough and took me to the ER. She was worried that my spleen was enlarged because apparently that happens with mono. The doctor said my organs are fine, stop taking the Valtrex and get plenty of rest and fluids. I told her how it only seems to happen when I eat and that I thought I had candida and/or celiac earlier this year. She said it's a possibility since both are common in people with autoimmune diseases. If I did have candida, it could lower my immunity. It's also possible the medication is contributing to a yeast overgrowth. I can't fucking win.

My mom brought me back to Queens yesterday afternoon. My insides and mind are a fucking wreck. I feel as bad as I did in January when I first thought I had a food intolerance. I still have no idea if it was actually the Valtrex that did this or what, so only time will tell once it leaves my system. I've called my neurologist four times since Wednesday and I still haven't heard back from her. I didn't think she was an asshole.

There's nothing I can do now except watch what I eat, drink lots of water, and rest. I'm trying my best to be positive about all of this. Well, trying NOT to be negative. It's not working.

I fucking hate that I can't go out, can't give my all at work, can't fucking eat or drink anything without fear of getting sicker. I wanted to start going to the gym this week and buy a bike for the bike tour, but at this point isn't worth doing since walking up the block to Rite Aid was hard enough. I'm worried that I've annoyed all of my friends with yet another episode of ridiculous health shit. I'm worried that MDLL is going to get bored with me always being sick and go out and meet someone else. I'm worried I'm going to get fired. I'm worried that I'm never going to feel any better and I've wasted my life being drunk rather than checking things off my bucket list.

Okay...I know I'm not dying. I don't have cancer, I don't have MS, I have mono. It happens. But four months of living like this does not feel like living at all. It feels like shit.

So there you have it. This is me being a whiny, ungrateful, depressed hypochondriac. Well I guess I'm not a hypochondriac because I actually know I have mono now, but whatever. Every fucking week something was wrong this year and I can't imagine the mono was the cause of all of it...

I seriously can't take this anymore. I want my fucking life back.

I HAVE MONO!!!

Really, really bad mono!!

YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW HAPPY I AM RIGHT NOW!!

I have an answer! I have medication! I have validation that something wasn't right for the past 4+ months!!!

I HAVE MONO!!

HOORAY!

Yay!

Gosh it feels good to be home. So good that I stayed out until 2am last night. Oops!  I'm back in Chinatown at my neurologist's office. I have no idea why I'm here. A part two of something. I am so bored with this shit.

I'm happy to report I felt pretty good all week. Only lightheaded a few times. Maybe it's finally lifting.

I have a lot of work to do after training, so I plan on doing some this weekend. Other than that I'm having dinner with Bella at Blue Smoke tonight, watching the Red Wings with Bakes and Jarv at Canz tomorrow, hanging with MDLL, AND BUYING A BIKE!! Five Boro Bike Tour is in two weeks. I'm excited!

Yay home! Yay weekend!

Homesick

My gosh I can't wait to go home tomorrow. It's only been three days, but I feel like it's been an eternity since I've been back in the AQ (Astoria, Queens) hanging with my friends.

The dumb thing is I rarely see the girls Monday - Wednesday lately, so why would I be missing them this much?

I guess I miss NY. I miss MD too, who I'm sorry to confuse you guys, but has now become LL (Lastname Lover) in my head. Basically MD was dead to me after Valentine's Day and LL is the new and improved MD. I haven't decided if I'm ditching the MD entirely, so for now he'll be MDLL.

Anyways, I miss MDLL. I wish I knew if he was missing me.

Training is going really well. It's me and my boss in front of 20 billers showing them how to use the new system. Well she's showing them, I'm taking notes. Good thing I love to write!

We went out for dinner and drinks Monday night and tonight. It was really nice to talk to her socially. Did I give my boss a name yet? How about Iron because I'm staring at one?

I'm laying on a king size bed in a hotel room in downtown Philly. Um, can I just say room service fucking rocks? I never ordered it before this week. Being served rules.

This is the first time I'm really getting an idea of what this job could become. I'm not too sure what to think yet. Next week I'll be here by myself, so that could be a little lonely. Or awesome. I guess I'll find out soon!

I seriously can't wait to be back in NY tomorrow night. I'm homesick!

I'm all a Twitter.

Well I did it. Thighs McGee is on Twitter.

I found out yesterday my brother is on Twitter and in order to follow him I need an account. Awwww...I love Rippie.

You might be surprised to know that writing most of my blog posts takes me a while. I write, reflect, and edit numerous times before posting.

FYI, my tweets will not be censored.

Look to your right for the link. Enjoy!

I just said...

"Oh snap" for the first time in my life.

Oh snap.

There's a Blogger app. Of course there is. I fucking love this phone.

Artoo!!

My new catchphrase

"Your yeast is chomping."

Hahahahahahahaha!

Happenings

All is well today. It's the first time in a while that I feel like I'm beating whatever the fuck is wrong with me. I have finally fully admitted to myself that my anxiety levels are through the roof. I'm anxious about being anxious ALWAYS.

Where did I last leave off?

My MRI results were fine. THANK SHIZZA. The inner ear imbalance was an accurate diagnosis, although it doesn't cover all of my symptoms. My doctor gave me some visual and coordination exercises to help level me out. I wonder if being tipsy is temporarily helping my balance as I seem to feel better after a night of drinking. Only me!!

The pain in my foot was so bad that it travelled up into my knee as well. The podiatrist said there was nothing wrong with my foot so the pain must be coming from another part of my body. The neurologist jumped right on it and gave me a nerve test which consisted of about 50 electrical shocks to my arms and legs. She also took some blood to find out once and for all if my Lymes is back. Did I mention this possibility yet? No? I had Lymes when I was ten, yada, yada, yada, it tends to come back in a woman's thirties. Whatever. I've been x-rayed and pricked (heh) like a zillion times this month. It's getting fucking old.

Work is okay. I'll be in Philly Monday through Thursday this week and next. I'm really nervcited about it. When will the anxiety go away?? Gah! I went clothes shopping today to make myself feel more confident. I bought a lot of nice tops, but still haven't found pants that fit me right. Oh well. I'll try again next weekend.

My social life is the only thing keeping me sane (!!) lately. I love all of my friends so incredibly much. I feel guilty that sometimes I can't enjoy their company as much as I'd like to because I'm not feeling well, but I don't know if they ever notice. I've become a pretty good actress hiding all the shit going on inside. I'm not usually one to hide anything, it's just that every fucking week it's something so I don't want to sound like a whiny hypochondriac fuckwad. I forgot to mention the corneal eye infection I got out of nowhere last Tuesday. It felt like there was glass in my eye. Fantastic.

I wasn't able to hide anything yesterday, though. MD and I were laying in bed chatting when I started crying about how stressed I am with this new job. He was really, really sweet about it. He's been really sweet a lot lately, this week especially. We've hung out every day since Tuesday. I love being with him.

I was seriously okay with not talking about "us" or being his girlfriend up until last night. I got jealous and started to worry I was going to lose him. I'm glad. It was sort of weirding me out how detached I've been the past month or so. Very unlike me.

Anyhoo, he helped me realize why I'm so anxious about my life. I don't trust myself or have faith things will work out. Be it my health, job, or relationships, I'm constantly on edge and worried. I guess I've always been a worrier, but the past few months take the cake. The good news is I feel better knowing where the stress is coming from. The bad news? I don't quite know how to fix it yet. How do you learn to trust yourself again?

Happy Pictures

I got nothing to say, so here are some pictures of things that make me happy:

I love copays.

I'm writing on my phone from my neurologist's office. My last visit started with a 1.5 hour wait and ended with a massge and acupuncture another 1.5 hours later, so I have time to type slowly.

I'm a mess again, but trying to stay in good spirits. The lightheadedness and boob/chest pain was really bad last week. My sonogram and mammogram came back fine, which is great and shitty at the same time. There isn't a piece of an implant or, thank Shizza, tumors, but there still isn't an explanation for my pain. My mom said to go to a neurologist and I'm super glad I did.

An undiagnosed/untreated inner ear infection seems to be the reason for my lightheadedness, dizziness, occassional nausea, and inability to lay down flat without getting a headache. YAY FOR AN ANSWER!! Boo for the asshole doctor who said I was depressed. Never going back to him. In fact, I'm done with male doctors. I ain't risking "this bitch be crazy" diagnosis again.

The neuro wants me to go for two MRIs on the brain and ear. Hopefully by Friday the infection will be confirmed and I can get meds and feel good once and for all. Right now I'm in her Chinatown office waiting to do some balancing tests. A kickass martial arts movie is on in the waiting room. Definitely a nice way to start a Monday.

She also thinks at this point my boob is a pulled muscle and needs some physical therapy. I've lost a lot of strength since last summer, so it really is time to get back to the gym. One last snafu of course, because apparenty 2011 and my body don't like each other - my foot spasmed on Wednesday and I'm rocking a sweet pimp limp. I already went to a podiatrist because I'm my doctor nazi mother's daughter. It's not broken, but the doc wrapped it and said to stay off my feet for a few days. Sorry bub, but that's not an option in this city.

My Ruth Clare alter ego is taking over. I seemed to have turned 83 and not 33 this month. My ridiculous amount of ailments and doctor's visits this year are comical at this point. Tomorrow I'll probably wake up with a dick growing out of my forehead. Call me Screwicorn.

Ta da!

I'm back! HOLLA!

I haven't felt very Thighs McGee lately. Not in a bad way, I just haven't thought much about writing. This is what's new:

1. My birthday party was excellent. Good times, good friends, and good Guinness. We hung out at Flannery's until about 11pm, then the Astoria crew went over to Crazy Ass for a nightcap. A three hour nightcap. I think I got home at 2:30am. It was the first time in quite a while that I drank a lot. I was a little nervous, but all was well. Too well perhaps because I haven't really stopped drinking or staying out late since then. That weekend Jarv and I barhopped around the neighborhood. This past week included staying out until 1:30am on both Wednesday and Thursday, not going out UNTIL 3am on Friday, taking a break Saturday, then drinking from noon until 8pm today. I feel fine, but Bethany Beergut is back and I'm tired. So tired. I am not drinking this week until Friday when MY BROTHER COMES TO VISIT! It's a last minute work trip. I'm so excited to see him!!

2. Work is getting better!! I wanted to get some stuff done this weekend, but that was a total fail (see above). I feel a bit shitty about it, so no more drinking or late nights during the week for me anymore. I plan on getting in early tomorrow to get ahead. My boss was in three days last week, which was nice and comforting. She said I'm doing a great job and apologized for being m.i.a. Things seem to be simmering down for her, so I'm hoping this is when things will start picking up for me. She made mention of getting me and apartment in Philly for the month of July because I'm apparently going to be spending a ton of time there, so that's pretty cool. Also the Chicago project manager quit, so there may be an opportunity for me to go there as well. WRIGLEY!

Things are really looking up. The birthday drama freakout was a blessing in disguise. I was burying my nerves and trying to play it cool and be patient, but let's face it - patience is not my thing.

3. You know what's my thing? Or things rather? Boobs. It never occurred to me that I'm so boob-centric because of my, what do I call it, plight? Nah. That sounds religious. My situation? Eh. My boob chapter? Yeah, my boob chapter.

I recall being a boob girl before all that happened anyways, probably because as a kid my parents would make me go in the other room when they knew a nude scene was coming up in a movie. I'd naturally sneak a peek, not because I wanted to see naked chicks, but because I was curious as to what I wasn't allowed to see and really good at being defiant.

Anyhoo, my boob chapter is still writing itself. I still sleep propped up, usually wear a bra to bed, and rarely lift my arms or jump around. I've lost so much muscle since July that I suck at arm wrestling now, something I was quite proud of being good at considering I never worked out that much to begin with. I was an altoid, curiously strong and really white.

In my drunken birthday stupor I "accidentally" danced and bounced around way too much. My boob/chest muscle has been hurting ever since. Today's the first day it doesn't feel so bad. I wrote "accidentally" because at this point there is no fucking reason I shouldn't be able to dance, raise my arms, or do anything. It's been seven months since surgery and four months since I hurt myself on Thanksgiving. It sucks.

I don't want to go back to the asshole plastic surgeon ever, ever again so I went to my gyno to get a referral for a breast specialist. I called two of the tops ones and unfortunately they won't see me because I don't have cancer. Yes, it's a good thing I don't have it, but once they heard the word "implant" I felt there was a bit of condescension in the nurses' voices. Fuck you, fuckbag. It's not what you think. After I told them the story they eased up, but still wouldn't see me so I decided to go to for a mammogram/sonogram on my own. This way if something is wrong at least then maybe a specialist will be more willing to help. If there's nothing there I may go for an MRI and see a sports doctor. I read pulled chest muscles are a bitch, so maybe I have to treat it like it's a sprained ankle or something. Who knows. All I do know is I wish this fucking chapter would end.

The good news is the girls are still even. I feel pretty healthy otherwise, except I still get the lightheadedness and back of head headaches a few times a week. Oh well.

4. Boys. There's always one. Or four. The Gentleman and I had lunch the other day. I never ended up officially breaking it off and at this point there's no need. We are definitely in friend territory and I'm happy to stay there.

On St. Patty's Day I reached my two guy kiss quota. One was Will from last year. I saw him at the bar, we chatted, no big deal. Then on my walk home he came up on his bike and we walked together for a bit (he lives across the street from me). As I was saying good-bye he rammed his tongue down my throat. It was fine and I laughed it off, but I do not not NOT want to be with that guy. He's fucking nuts!

Even nuttier - the other guy I made out with was the fat member of the Ultimate Dickfuck Dodgeball team. Crazy, right? I didn't recognize him for a while, but I knew he looked familiar. When we figured it out I turned all red and starting yelling about how his team ruined dodgeball for me. Dramatic, much? Fa!

While he's much thinner and handsomer now, I'm not that into him. I'll probably go out for a drink or something just to be sure. One never can tell on St. Patty's Day.

The fourth dude of late is MD. Shocking. We've been spending a lot of time together again. He came out for my birthday, we hung out that weekend, this past Wednesday, and everyday this weekend. Now that I finally know some details about his past relationship and where he's at in his head other than "I don't want a serious relationship" I've become more calm and detached. We're not each other's taco lobster and that's okay.

I decided my soulmate's nickname is Big Red. I haven't met him yet, but I know he's out there. For some reason I'm not quite ready to look yet, probably because of work and boob chapter. I need some more time. I told myself March will be about getting back to Me and April will be about finding my We.

Oh and I'm over the guy Rem at work. I definitely want to be friends with him, though!

Shit it's late...why don't I sleep anymore!?!? Gah!

Happy Birthday?

Ummm...I just woke up to a horrible burning smell choking me in my sleep.

I heard someone on the roof, so I opened the door and waited a couple of minutes for them to come down. A very hot fireman said the boiler blew up and if I smell anything in my apartment it's okay, just open the windows.

It smelled so fucking bad that I threw on my coat and went outside. Only two other neighbors were down there (I live in a sixteen apartment building). They were all freaked out because they actually felt the building shake when it happened.

I'M freaked because I slept through it all. Why didn't the alarms go off? Why didn't the firemen knock on doors? I guess I should feel safe they didn't feel it was necessary to evacuate the building, but I don't. GAH!

It still smells so bad in here. I hope I can sleep!

The good news is besides my apartment building not blowing up and you know, death, I wasn't born until 5:07am, so technically it's not really my birthday yet.

I'm smiling.

Rem, the guy I like at work, gave me a birthday present. I can't get over it!! We bonded over discussions of good beer, so he bought me a bottle of Great Divide Yeti because that's his favorite brewery and I told him I like stouts. HOW SWEET IS THAT?

I'll ask again...HOW SWEET IS THAT??

He totally made my day. I haven't stopped smiling, except when I think about how Rockstar hasn't called me back after going for a run in the park with a bum knee. WILL YOU PLEASE CALL ME BACK?

I really, really like his company and am excited to hang out and get to know him better. I like him. I'm sure we'll eventually make out because that's what I do best, but I feel like there's more to this connection. I sense my life is going to be better having met him.

SWEET.

No Philly!

Yaaaaayyy! Party on, Wayne! Party on, Garth!

God I forgot about those movies...

Yaaaaayyy!

Oh bloody hell.

Are you kidding me with this shite? I unsubscribed 89 times! Fuck you and your swirly lamb!

Happy Almost Birthday to Me!

My birthday gift...an R2D2 Droid 2! WOO HOO! It makes Artoo noises when the phone rings!



It is my first smartphone, so I'm now turning into one of those annoying people who check in on Foursquare and update Facebook all of the time. (I can hear Juniper yelling at me.) I'm toying with the idea of starting a Twitter account, too. Toying.

Actually I did have internet access on my first cellphone back in 2001, but all I did was check Yahoo seventeen times a day to see if Softball Pat emailed me. I wonder if he's on Facebook...

Anyhoo, I love it. I will leave no seafood restaurant unturned.

Eight Years

MD and I finally talked last night. It went very well. I don't have much time to go into it at the moment (I have actual work to do, hooray!), but I can't think straight. Two words keep running through my head: eight years. He and his ex were together for eight years.

I can't fathom being with someone that long, let alone breaking up with someone after that long.

We are on complete opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to where we are in life right now. I am done with being single while he is enjoying (?) being single for the first time since college. Do you know how many guys I slept with while he was in a relationship? DO YOU? I'm asking becuase I lost count.

I don't know how I feel about this yet. I'm a hopeless romantic. I don't like to think love is based on timing because fuck time. If I truly love someone I would want to be with them no matter what is going on in my life because I wouldn't be able to live without them.

I know "love" wasn't in the cards for MD and I. I felt like I was falling in love with him, but he definitely wasn't falling in love with me. It's just that I've never been serious about someone before. Tat and I talked about moving in together, but I knew it wasn't going to happen. I would have dropped everythig for MD if he asked. He never did.

I find myself wondering what the point was again, sort of like I did with the Banana drama. WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT? Why did I have to meet someone who is not ready for a relationship when for the first time in my life I'M ready for one?? Yes I know, even if he was ready it doesn't mean he'd want to be with me. Hell, he could get hit with Cupid's arrow tomorrow and end up married by the end of the year. Kill me if that happens.

Then again, that could happen to me too...

GAH. I hate dating. HATE IT. I'm done. I'm done done done done done*.



*Lie lie lie lie lie.