Nonsequitur Life

Insomnia.

Sleep is for the weak.

I got a call today (yesterday…whatever) confirming my psychiatrist appointment.

Eleven days in advance.

Close enough.

At least I know they still have an appointment scheduled for me. Since I scheduled the appointment, I’ve had a strong feeling in my gut that something is going to go wrong by the time the appointment rolls around and I’ll be back to square one. It’s not just pessimistic tendencies at work here. I’ve had enough shit hit the fan in regards to appointments in the last two decades, I can’t help but prepare myself for shit to go wrong.

But hey, in this case I’m not dealing with Park Nicollet, so maybe things will work out in my favor this time.

I can only hope.

I had my annual physical on the 8th. I brought up a bunch of issues I’ve either addressed before or finally remembered to bring up. I didn’t get much in the way of answers, but I didn’t expect I would. Keep asking the same doctor the same questions, keep getting the same answers.

At my last physical, I brought up significant ear pain I get when sleeping and was prescribed Flonase because my sinuses are perpetually inflamed and it’s all connected. I used the nose spray for two months and it only served to inflame my sinuses tenfold and gave me bloody noses. I’d never had a bloody nose in my life and I was getting them every morning. No thank you. I relayed this information when bringing it all up again and was told to take Allegra D for a full month and then switch to the non-decongestant version. So I can buy ten pills at a time (that I’m supposed to take twice a day) that I have to submit to a criminal background check for at the pharmacy so they know I’m not going to cook meth with them. So far I’m not impressed, but I’ll give it the prescribed month and decide whether or not to bother beyond that.

I brought up my back and hip pain AGAIN, complete with the bone-grinding-on-bone sensation and was told that my pelvis is “definitely torqued.” My right hip sits higher than my left (as is the case with my mom, her sisters, and at least one female cousin on that side) and I know things are out of alignment from falling on my tailbone three different times. He mentioned yoga and more than once said, “This is why we have chiropractors,” but never actually said I should see one, but I’m convinced actually seeing one is the only way I’m going to get any actual answers or results. That’ll get addressed…eventually. When I can get over the panic attacks involved in finding a doctor/clinic/whatever then making the damn phone call and…fucking Christ dealing with life is one endless clusterfuck of stress.

In the meantime, I was told to use a foam roller to work the muscles involved in the lower back and pelvis and considering I have no balance or equilibrium, this can’t possibly end in disaster.

So far it works well to crack my back, but I’m NOT TALL ENOUGH to do half the exercises involved in working the areas that need to be worked.

I finally remembered to bring up the Phantom Smoke Stench. He entertained the idea of doing an MRI but decided against to go with the aforementioned allergy medicine trials and my upcoming psychiatrist appointment. Considering a brain tumor and Parkinson’s disease are highly unlikely (Oh Wikipedia) there is a high probability that it’s related to mental illness and I’ll see what the new doctor has to say about it.

There was a tiny part of me that was disappointed he ruled against the MRI because I’m terribly curious to know what my defective brain looks like. But I’m mostly relieved because I know that our useless insurance would not cover a preventative MRI and those bastards are expensive. (Our shitty insurance doesn’t even cover mammograms. Because obviously.) However, if the new psychiatrist thinks it needs to be done…he said he’d be more than happy to order the test and we’ll burn that bridge when we get there.

We discussed my upcoming psych appointment and how I’d brought up the same “anxiety is off the charts” at my last physical. That’s the bitch of it all. I’m having severe anxiety issues but I can’t get past the panic attack to pick up the phone to make an appointment to address my anxiety issues. And he said he can tell that there is “a lot weighing on” me right now. Good to know it’s glaringly obvious I’m barely holding my shit together these days.

I had one vial of blood drawn by my preferred lab tech Igor. He’s excellent at getting the needle in with little pain. I still had a fantastic bruise for several days and by the time I got home, I felt more like I’d had a tetanus shot than a blood draw my arm was so sore, but I’m pretty sure that was because I drive mostly with my left hand and I grip the hell out of the steering wheel without realizing it until my hand is so cramped I can barely straighten my fingers.

Issues.

I have them.

In other news…

Ryan Star’s new album came out last week.

I think that was rather obvious.

Holy Christmas.

I fucking love him.

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Sailing On Ryan Star