Monday, February 27, 2012

Time Heals

It was my dad's birthday yesterday, and for the first time since he died, I didn't cry on his birthday. I didn't think of him one bit. I spent my day yesterday in pain, and watching Downton Abbey (which is an oddly addictive show).

It feels so good to know that after all this time, it is, in fact, getting easier. I am actually coping. I'm moving on.

I spent a lot of Saturday thinking of my dad. Mostly because I was playing his favorite game: pool (or billiards, depending where you're from). I was kicking ass. I only lost one game out of 5! Pretty good for me.

And all the times I thought of him on Saturday, it was the quiet reflection of good times shared. None of this overwhelming grief of things lost.

I can think of my dad without crying. I can tell stories of him to strangers and family alike, with a smile on my face at the memories.

I think I've finally passed through all of the stages of grief. I've reached acceptance.

And it didn't hit me like a slap on the face. It crept up on me silently, so as not to spook me, I think.

I no longer feel there's a void in my heart to be filled.

I still miss him, of course.

But that's okay.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Vision Abnormalities, and an Old Frienemy (and a rant)

I'm having some really wonky vision problems. My left eye refuses to track and focus at the same rate as my right. It seems like it's mostly just a half step behind, just a little bit slower. It's really uncomfortable, too. Like a pressure headache behind my eyes.

I went to an optometrist in late fall/early winter, and I was supposed to have a follow-up to check my eyes for signs to see if I'm going to develop Glaucoma. Fun, right? I have been too busy, forgetful, and all-around out of energy, so I haven't done that. I think it might be time.

My 'Old Frienemy' is my cane. I had to bring it out a week ago, and it made me feel like crap. After 6 months without it, I was hopeful that I might not need it again, things were looking up. Then as I tried to stand after sitting in a really squishy chair, my hip refused, and I met the ground with an annoyed "thud."

Still trying to find the time to go to the doctor for a referral to the Prolotherapy guy. I can't seem to find the energy to deal with incompetent doctors any more. It seems that any time I request anything, be it a test, a referral, a new drug that has promising research... They just look at me, like "Who do you think you are?" and they get frustrated by my knowledge, pushiness, and all-around me-ness, and refuse me anything and everything. Then I get extra pushy, bitchy, and mean. Then they call me belligerent, unco-operative, and a faker, drug-seeker, etc. and the whole thing comes full circle.

When I try to play dumb, and let them figure out what's wrong with me, they inevitably get it wrong. That's how I ended up on wrong medications, on more than one occasion.  All I did was give them my symptoms, they'd come to wrong conclusions, and they'd completely dismiss any of my ideas, insisting that they were the expert, and I'm "just a patient."




And RAWR, even.

I hope you all have better days than me.