Running on Empty

Sabotage from the inside. 

I have my MRI today, and I'm really fucking scared. The most viable options seem to be a cyst or a tumor, since I don't see how I could have injured it...also the giant lump in my calf. It's really hard to calmly try and come to terms with what the answer might be.
I also had kind of a blowup with Lindbergh last night, and another uncomfortable conversation with Foxx.

The situation with Lindbergh is kind of twofold. I started reading this book we got at church (and if I haven't mentioned it before, I'm Catholic). It's about this Protestant couple who ended up converting to Catholicism, but before that happened, they were super anti-Catholic. Like, to the point of honestly saying the Pope was the antichrist and that Catholic's souls were ruined, one guy even calling it the "synagogue of satan" (which actually seems wrong on a few levels).  Anyway I had no idea that there were people who were that against Catholicism, so I got curious. I asked Lindbergh what denomination he was...he's non-denominational; I was curious so I asked about that. I think he was weirded out by my questions. Seriously, I was just curious. We went on to chat about other things.
Later on, I asked Lindbergh if he prays much anymore. (Oh, this is the second...fold?) His answer was "Whoa. Shit just got real."
Uh, really? That is the tipping point? Of all the weird, gross, borderline dumb things he's said to me...asking about prayer is the line. Interesting. So I apologized when I got another couple of texts from him. One was asking how he ends up at the bar on a Monday, and the other was a picture of beer. While he was sending those, I sent him my explanation: that I was really scared and was just going to ask for a prayer. He said something about kind of wanting to change the subject.
Then...I got mad. I told him that I truly didn't think cancer was out of the question and that it was really cruel and heartless of him. He told me that the beer texts were supposed to have gone to someone else and that he felt dumb about it. He sent a longer apology today; I haven't responded.

The weird conversation with Foxx was kind of my fault...I should have known better. He put a really funny video on Facebook...it was in the vein of a sad "adopt these animals" commercial, except it was for white women to adopt black men (because black women were mean to them). It was hilarious, and I commented on it "oh no, do you need to be adopted?!"
Yup. Bad move. He asked if I'd adopt him, then started telling me that he would like to rest his head on my soft spots. Ah..haha. He kept pushing it and I told him that he knew I wasn't going to say yes. Then he started the "oh am I making you  uncomfortable? I'm so sorry!" bit. I once again explained that we work together. How do we keep having this conversation and how does he conveniently keep forgetting about it? So obnoxious.

So, the MRI. I don't have an answer yet, but they think they ruled out cancer. (Interestingly enough, my doctor never outright told me that was an option...I kind of figured it out on my own. But my concern wasn't completely in crazy town.) Although that's good news, I still don't have an answer. And I look like a freaking idiot every time I try to walk! It's embarrassing. Luckily, my doctor put me on bed rest again, at least for tomorrow. Unfortunately, she's hoping to get me in tomorrow for the next test...stick a needle in that bitch.

What to do When Your Body is Trying to Kill You

Get pissed.

I don't mean "pissed" in the drunk sense...although I'm not against that at all either! 

Rewind to Valentine's Day. I was absolutely exhausted from a long week, and I knew I had to get up early on Saturday, so I had plans to do some spa stuff and go to bed early. Lindbergh asked if I wanted to hang out, and I ended up feeling guilty for saying I was too tired. I invited him over for a movie, he accepted, we watched said movie. He wanted to hang around longer. I didn't feel like arguing, but I did fall asleep shortly after. What a captivating Valentine's. Uh huh.

Saturday. Got to the event and hung out with Wonder Woman and a couple of other friends there; we worked a bit on lookin purdy. After a while we all had to sit in a circle for a kumbaya session; we had a conversation about women's images. Some if it was actually good...how women set these impossible expectations on themselves, how women tear each other down more than men tear women down, and how every woman has the same insecurities about herself. But...there were also the girls who started crying about how hard their life has been, and someone else who starts crying because the first girl is crying, and someone else emphatically whining about how beautiful this is...yeeeaaah, no thanks. I should also point out that we were sitting on the floor, so it was really uncomfortable. And cold. Next, we listened to two girls sing a song (I didn't really listen to the words, but I'm sure it was mushy). Then, we stripped and got half nekkid. What's kind of weird is that only myself and one other girl weren't wearing black lingerie. Mine was gray and the other girl's was white. Anyway, we then had to stand in a circle and talk about our cards that we'd written on. Again, quite uncomfortable and cold. We finally got to pictures, which took about 20 minutes total. I did get a really cute shot though--I took my card and covered half of my face diagonally. After that, myself and the 3 other friends went to grab some lunch and ended up sitting there for about 3 and a half hours. I then had my hour and a half drive home...my legs weren't very happy with me after all that. 

So. Shall we explore my body trying to kill me? Of course we should!

Sunday, during church, I tried to keep my legs moving so they wouldn't get too stiff. When I got home, however, I saw that my right calf was a little swollen. It had been a bit sore in the few days before that, but I think I was trying to ignore it. I'll admit that I cried a little, I just didn't want to go through the whole thing again. I went back to see the doctor on Tuesday and she ordered some blood work, which I got done immediately after. She also gave me some other assignments--warm bath, massaging the calf, and taking Aleve. I tried the bath and massage that night, and the pain made me cry. Geez, it's been months since I've cried. Stupid legs! 
Oh! Side note. That same day, Tuesday, my new nephew was born. He's adorable and perfect. 
Wednesday was kind of normal, but my leg was hurting more and it was getting a little difficult to walk. When I woke up Thursday, I noticed kind of a lump in my calf. So, back to the doctor I went. The blood work had also returned and I do have an increased risk for blood clots. The only way I can think of that is that I have fat blood. It makes it funny. So I went for another doppler, this time at a cardio office, because apparently the tech at the hospital was kind of a jerk and didn't want me to have a blood clot. 

Alright, so I still didn't have a blood clot, but at least the cardio doppler tech was nicer and more thorough. Since that didn't show anything, my doctor said the next step was to get an MRI. So I had one set up for the next morning (today). Shortly after that I left work because it made my entire leg hurt and I couldn't do anything. Later on I got a call that my insurance company wanted me to get an X-Ray before they'd approve the MRI...so I did that. 
As I was leaving I got a message that insurance wasn't happy and wouldn't approve the MRI. Even though I did the x-ray. Great. So I got another call today and I can't get in till Tuesday. Then this afternoon I got another call that the insurance company finally approved it. I'm currently lying in bed, with my legs propped up, slightly fuzzy on Norco. I'm not sure if I'll be able to go to work on Monday or Tuesday, or how long it'll be before I'll have an answer after the MRI. 

So, today I salute you, douchebag insurance company. You are run by cheapskates who don't care about anyone's actual health...you just don't want to have to pay. And in that, you end up paying much more. And then pass those costs back to the customers. 
Insurance companies, I present to you...the Richard Cranium Douchebag Award. Congratulations.

Love is in the Air

And fire is on my tongue.

Ugh. Valentine's Day. I hate this time of year. I don't think I ever even liked it when I was in a relationship. This year I have a different tactic--I'm celebrating 'Merica. Merica! Well...kinda. I think I've mentioned that I was born out of the country. Well, my report and certificate of birth abroad were both signed on February 14, so I feel like that's kind of another birthday. So instead of celebrating Valentine's Day, I'm celebrating Naturalization Day. Merica!

Transition!

I had a new development this afternoon. My friend Wonder Woman (yup, I'm going there) put up a cool event on her facebook. Oh wait, I should probably mention she's also the awesome gal who wanted to do the pin-up photo shoot for her birthday. She always does the coolest stuff! She found this photographer who's doing a women's empowerment photo shoot, and I get to be her guest. What that means is it'll be a bunch of women in underwear getting their picture taken. The catch is that you have to come up with why you love you; why you think you're valuable. It's not a super new concept, but I think it's awesome. I'm so excited to be joining it! 
So I thought for a long time about what my card would say. (Oh fine, not a long time. A few hours. But it's this Saturday so I didn't have a ton of time anyway. And if you've learned anything about me, it's that I worry a ridiculous amount, mostly needlessly. Shut up and let me get on with the story.) It wasn't that I couldn't come up with any ideas...I came up with a lot of ideas. But I wanted something really good. I've had a lot of ups and downs in my life, and I'm pretty happy with the person I've become...it's hard to come up with a small description of all that. I think I've got it though. 
"I keep going. Each day--happy, sad, tired, strong, weak, crazy, especially the days I want to give up--I keep going and make the day mine." 
That might not seem like much, but it means a lot to me. I thought about a lot of little things, but that kind of covered it all. There have been a lot of days where I've wanted to give up, but I somehow always keep going. The "keep going" encompasses a lot...putting effort into my work, empathy for people, being there for others, forgiving and admitting wrongness...I'm proud of all that stuff. That was really the best fit, and it might not even make sense to anyone else. But it makes sense, and means a lot, to me. 

Transition!

More new developments. I got a seriously random email today. It's from a guy I've never actually met. Oh, backstory. When I was a case manager, I had a client who wanted to set me up with their son. I agreed to talk to him, and we'd email back and forth. That petered out after a while (my fault, I was going through a lot of stuff and didn't want that to deal with). We started chatting again (well that's a trend) last fall and were supposed to get together when he was home for Christmas. And then, he disappeared. It was right up to where we were making some plans a few weeks beforehand. I didn't try to contact him, because I figured he'd talk to me if he wanted to, but I also started to wonder if something happened. 
Back to tonight...I got an email that he's in town and asked me to dinner tomorrow. I think I'm declining...I really need some extra sleep. Plus Valentine's is stupid and all that. 

Ah...life always seems to send me tricky little surprises like that. But, at least I have the ability to keep going. 

The Dobler-Dahmer Theory

From "How I Met Your Mother" 
Overview: A fine line between love and insanity. If both people are into each other, then a big romantic gesture works: Dobler. If one person isn’t into the other, the same gesture comes off serial-killer crazy: Dahmer.

Practical Origin: The Theory was used as a reference to Lloyd Dobler from the late 1980’s romantic comedy film, Say Anything, holding up the boom box outside Dianne Court’s window. While the Dahmer is a reference to serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer.

I think I've mentioned before that I'm not really a romantic. I mean, I love the idea of it...I just don't think it entirely translates to real life. To me, that's why you watch movies. The Hollywood idea of love and romance is wonderful, but real life is so much messier and confusing. So, anyway, I love the idea of it. I don't seem to really date overly romantic guys, and I really don't date the guys who are romantic. It spooks me. 

Pause. I'm super lonely right now. I was with Lindbergh tonight and had quite a bit of wine, and I'm also very tired. A bit of catching up is in order. So I had the cankle, then stayed in bed for about 3 days straight, and this week was really rough. I was still stressing, still trying to act normal, but also still being overly paranoid about every tiny thing with my body. I went back to my doctor yesterday and she gave me the okay that things are normal again. It was a blot clot, but caught before it got bad. But, things have just been so scary and kind of a whirlwind and it's worse when you don't have someone to deal with you. I just got back from seeing Lindbergh...I felt more alone with him than I do when I'm actually alone. Wow, that's melodramatic. Alright, back to the story. 

There's a guy I went to high school with that thinks I'm wonderful. What's kind of odd is that I really don't know him--we didn't really talk in high school and haven't really since then. I've run into him once or twice but we didn't talk then either. Every once in a while I'll get a random declaration of love or a couple of paragraphs on how classic and amazing I am. It's very, very sweet, but it's also very, very overwhelming. INCREDIBLY overwhelming. Slightly terrifying. You can't be in love with someone you don't know. It's not logical. Short version of that one. 

The other day I got a message on the facebook from a guy I knew in college. He reminds me a bit of Jersey Shore so his alias can be Situation. 

Pause. Let's put that in a time frame: I left my college town in summer 2009. I'd been dating a guy for almost a year by then. Situation and I, truth be told, had one ill thought out night together. (Ill thought out on my part...I didn't realize the repercussions). So the most recent possible date of this tryst is sometime in 2008. SIX years ago. 

And we're back. So I get this message, and he tells me how amazing the pictures from Paris look and asks how the trip was. That's harmless enough, so I answered. He requested I take him on my next trip and (with a roll of the eyes, of course) I said I wanted to go back for Bastille Day. Oh, he got all excited about it. So he tells me we should just go, and surprise my sister. Uh, yeah, no. That's not happening...for so many reasons. SO many reasons. So then he randomly jumps to this: "Oh the answer is yes to the first thing.... well if that was you saying you would like to go out to dinner with me. I am saying yes." 
...wh...I...what just happened...I...what?! 
Seriously. I was completely blindsided. Sat staring at it like an idiot because it was so asinine. So finally I reminded him that we still don't like in the same state. Because, you know, that's kind of important. So he tells me we could meet up for a weekend in Minneapolis, all expenses paid. Then he starts telling me again how wonderful I am and that I still give him butterflies (uh, you might want to get that checked out at this point). 
And I frantically tried to think of a reason to stop talking. 

So, I could probably be some sort of social-scientific study. Or maybe it's not that abnormal, I dunno. Besides that, I do know that Situation's family is loaded...so if I really wanted to be a trophy wife I could take that offer. Maybe I'm not as shallow as I seem. (Does that sentence even make sense? Whatever!) 
On the reverse side, if I was interested in either of these guys I would love all the flowery language and compliments. It's weird and doesn't make sense. I guess I don't really make sense. So until I figure that out I guess I'll just keep holding out for Henry Cavill.