this coffee tastes like ass

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Re: this coffee tastes like ass

Postby Starfish » Wed Mar 18, 2015 9:07 pm

Ult_Sm86 wrote:Star, I'm teribly sorry for this. It is some true assery going on there. Very stressful.

I hope you are able to get the right course of action plotted out with your local physician but don't be afraid to consult multiple sources when you are in doubt.
Stay off the web M.D. pages and stuff like that, do what you can to make her comfortable now. You're a good son and you're a wonderful person.
We all love you and I can probably safely say that you have support from each and every one of us.

Best of luck, my friend.


Thank you. I really appreciate it. :)
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Re: this coffee tastes like ass

Postby Angelique » Thu Mar 19, 2015 8:48 pm

Starfish wrote:Today I finally got a talk to a doctor, and he informed me that they had been unable to find any organic causes for her condition, ruling out any kind of stroke. Instead she appears to be suffering from an acute psychosis, and that they were unable to treat her for that, and also could no longer legally require her to stay without having her admitted to the closed psychiatric ward against her will.

After some discussion, we all agreed the best course of action would be to take her home for now and decide with our local physician on the best course of treatment - which might still include forced institutionalization if we can't ensure her personal safety.


Reading posts like this makes me wish I knew more about heatlh care where you are. I hope it's possible that you can arrange for home nursing care so your mother can receive the care she needs without going anywhere against her will.

As for me, yesterday I had another cortizone shot to my low spine, deep between the bones. Normally, it's not so bad. They give me some sedation, roll me in, and I wake up in recovery with no memory of what happened. Not this time. The sedation didn't completely take. I was relaxed and couldn't move well, but did it ever surprise the doctor and nurses when I started wailing in the middle of the procedure. They quickly finished and wheeled me into recovery, where another nurse asked me why I was awake so soon. I told her I was never out.
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Re: this coffee tastes like ass

Postby Ult_Sm86 » Mon Apr 27, 2015 12:50 pm

Apartments are expensive...
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Re: this coffee tastes like ass

Postby Angelique » Mon Apr 27, 2015 7:14 pm

Last cortizone shot failed. I now get to wait in pain for the state to admit what my doctor and I already know, that I'm going to need the SI joint fused and some additional work done on my hip.
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Re: this coffee tastes like ass

Postby Slarti » Mon Apr 27, 2015 11:19 pm

Found out today I get to have my gallbladder out next month sometime. It's only sort of assy since I'm relieved that's all that's wrong with me. So woo surgery?
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Re: this coffee tastes like ass

Postby Angelique » Wed Apr 29, 2015 6:41 am

"Woo surgery?" sounds about right. I can't say I've exactly got bad news, as the state finally decided my doctor and I were right, and I've got my surgery scheduled. Now I just have to wait in pain the rest of the week until Monday, when I go in for pins and screws in my hip, then spend half the summer off my feet. Oh joy.
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Re: this coffee tastes like ass

Postby Ult_Sm86 » Fri May 01, 2015 2:49 am

Well, hello heart break!

Image

I have no future/life/reason without her. I don't know what to do. I feel very alone and very sad and I want her to just figure out what the fuck she wants because it's fucking torture.

I don't have a life or purpose without her. She made me a better writer, a better friend, and a better person. I can't do this without her. I can't.

And the worst part is that I know, and she knows, that none of it has to do with me. I love her so much I don't care she fucked up. I just want to make it right.

Image

I don't need another kind of green...

Image
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Re: this coffee tastes like ass

Postby Ult_Sm86 » Wed May 20, 2015 3:55 am

She chose me, which is great. But now she's on the European trip that she's had planned for over a year with her best friend.

And we both miss each other like crazy.

And I'm super depressed and sad 'cause even though I know she's coming back, it's hard to be moving all of this stuff without her. And yes, we're in the middle of switching apartments and her trip fell on that same date. It wasn't intentional, the Landlord upped the rent at the last second and we told him we weren't up for it. We asked if there was another way to make it work and he said no. So now we're moving to Cranston and we're super pleased with the place but I have to do this whole thing, taking all the stuff we've brought together AND accumulated over the last year, and stuffing it into a new place. It's not that I mind the responsibility... it just sucks not having her.

I'm still working both jobs. East Side Market is awful and they treat me like crap so I'm trying to pick up a second store through Starbucks... and I could really use her physically here for the support. Everything (other little things I haven't mentioned) all feel like they're just sorta heaping on at once and I'm finding myself randomly crying in the shower, or wanting to while eating breakfast.
For no apparent reason at all. Nothing really started it, but just can't turn it off.

I'm so happy she chose me, I'm so happy she realized we were what worked... I'm really sad that right after that she was whisked away to Europe and she didn't even really wanna go at that point. She and I text eachother like crazy while she's doing this Euro-tour... but it's not the same as having that voice here in the apartment when I come home.

I'm a little overwhelmed....
Image

... End rant...
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Re: this coffee tastes like ass

Postby Angelique » Sat Jun 13, 2015 4:48 am

This has been going on for about a month. I try to get to sleep (which is not very easy for me), or I've managed to get something resembling a good night's sleep, and suddenly, I hear the crash of objects being thrown, the thump of blows to flesh, crying, and most notably, one of my neighbors- who lives diagonally across the intersection from me, screaming obscenities at his wife. Now the neighborhood's pretty laid back. Any excess of noise is usually resolved with a phone call or going over and saying, "Not meaning to intrude, but I'm trying to sleep." Loud neighbors agree to turn things down, apologize, and say good night. If we suspect something wrong, we wait until things simmer down, then maybe ask fighting neighbors if everything's okay. And usually things are, but the loudly bickering neighbors appreciate our concern.

Well, things weren't okay. This last time was the worst, with the words being screamed suggesting a crime in progress. I called the police, but didn't know my neighbor's address off the top of my head. I got told, "We can't respond there without an address." By then, though, things calmed down. I got dressed, got on my crutches, and walked over, knocked on the door and asked, "Is everything okay?"

The couple's three perfectly sweet and polite children- ranging in age from one to seven- all looked a bit shell-shocked. Dear ol' Dad denied anything wrong taking place. I pointed out that if he (because I won't deny the possibility that he was indeed being abused) and/or the kids are being abused, I'm required by law to report it and furthermore would be happy to help make sure everyone's safe. He rather brusquely denied needing my help, then left the room.

The middle child approached me and said very quietly, "Mom left."
I told her I was sorry she and her brothers saw what they did. She gave me a hug just as I heard Dad tell me to get out.

Later on, I saw the kids helping another neighbor run a lemonade stand. Neither of the parents were around. And as I was finished with a long crutch/walk (pretty much the only exercise I'm allowed), I was hot and thirsty. I gave them a dollar for the lemonade, then asked what had happened. They told me the whole story about an acrimonious split in progress, although first telling me that Mom and Dad were hitting themselves before admitting that they were hitting each other. I told them them I knew some people who could look out for them and help their family through this, and that brightened them up quite a bit.

They went home. I visited for a bit with another neighbor. Soon, out storms Dad, spittle-flying screaming at me, getting in my face, demanding to know what kind of "garbage" I was putting in his kids' heads, and threatening to call the cops if I didn't stay away from the kids. Bear in mind, they are friendly, polite kids who are frequently outside and say hello when they see other neighbors out, I have to take frequent walks as per doctor's orders, and I don't take kindly to being threatened.

So I left. I called Child Protection and had a long conversation with them. Then I paid a personal visit to the police station, gave them the full story- and this time I remembered the address.

I've done all I could and all the law demanded of me, but besides worrying about the kids' safety, somehow I can't help also fearing for my own.

And why on earth did all this have to go down while I'm recovering from hip and spine surgery?!?!
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