Another season, another dog delay

April 18, 2017

I feel like I’ll never get a dog. It was almost two years ago, in June 2015, when I finally decided I was ready to get a dog. And here I am, dogless.

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If you’ve read this blog for a while, you know I came close. That was a year ago, and here I am, no dog.

After last year’s fail, I was shaken. I felt that I shouldn’t have a dog. Finally after many months, I began to feel almost ready again. Then my parents went out of town and I watched their dog for a week. See that fluffy cuddler in the photo? After a week with him I was SO READY! But I had been applying for apartments, I had no idea when I would move. What if I got a dog and then learned I had to move just a few weeks later? Even if the dog could handle it, I knew it would be too much for me. Even just the move alone felt overwhelming.

So I waited.

And waited.

Just a few weeks after cuddling with my parents’ lovebug, I was offered an apartment. That meant no dog until after the move. Once I moved, I had to unpack and get set up. I kept telling myself I should get fully settled before I started looking for a dog, but it was so hard. Before I knew it I was on Petfinder, Adopt-a-pet, and several local rescues’ sites. But it was no good. Most dogs weren’t a good fit, mostly because of my health limitations. When a dog did look like a fit, I applied right away, only to learn someone else had gotten there before me. I set up alerts on the various web sites, so I would get an email when a new dog was posted. I applied the same day, and still had no luck.

And then last week I had to face the reality that my dog search must be put on hold. It’s spring here in Boston, which means more pain and less energy for me. That would be hard with a dog, but I would manage. But with a NEW dog, it’s too much. The first few months of dog ownership will be incredibly difficult and tiring. I need to be at my absolute best. And during the coming months I will be at my worst.

Waiting until the fall is the smart thing to do. I will feel better. I will be more capable. But it means waiting another 6 months before I even begin to search again! And at that point, I might not find my dog.

People keep telling me to hold out, it will work. If it was someone else, I would be encouraging them, too. But right now, it just feels so impossible. I want my dog, my fluffy ball of love, and I don’t want to wait any longer. It’s been 2 years. Will I ever become a dog momma?

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When even medical professionals don’t get it

March 30, 2017

There are the medical people I know in my personal life: a distant cousin, an aunt’s in-laws, friends of friends. Sometimes it’s just a random person I meet to hears about my health issues and lets me know they work in the medical field.

Some of these people are awesome: understanding, supportive, helpful. And some make me want to scream by thinking they can offer me advice. People I barely know, or maybe don’t know at all, tell me what I should do for my health. Or worse, they don’t understand that I really am sick.

But then there are the worse ones: the medical folks I see for my own treatments who Just. Don’t. Get it.

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Usually I walk away. If they don’t understand, then I don’t want to waste my time. But this latest one is a tougher situation.

It’s my physical therapist. For one thing, she means well but she’s scatter-brained. She asked me if I’d tried a particular yoga pose. I said no, I was told not to do yoga. She was surprised. I pointed out that she told me not to do yoga just a few weeks ago. Things like that. When I walk in, she has no recollection of what we did last time, even though I know she writes notes after every visit.

She also does a good job overall. And there’s no one else to see. It took years for me to find her! I searched for ages for someone to do this particular type of treatment (easy) that my insurance would cover (almost impossible.) One of my insurances covers her and she’s giving me a break on the other. I really appreciate that. She’s been so kind about it. And she does a good job.

But then she wants me to exercise more, to make sure I build up a good sweat. I try and explain how adrenal fatigue works, how that could be dangerous. She wants me to talk to my other doctors to make sure I’m really not supposed to be doing it. You know, in case we hadn’t already had this conversation 80 bazillion times. In case I misunderstood. In case I don’t know my own body! So frustrating!

And then yesterday she grabbed my wrist for the millionth time. I know this is just a typical maneuver. I know she does this automatically because she’s done it so many times before with countless other patients. But she’s a physical therapist and she needs to take each patient’s needs into account and I don’t know how many more times I can tell her not to do this before I completely lose my shit.

Because I’ve been clear. I’ve said it hurts. I’ve explained that I have a long history of pain there. I’ve said that it upsets me. Yesterday I calmly talked about it after the appointment. I explained the emotional trauma a bit. She tried to say there was no need to explain, but I figured hearing it might help her to fucking remember! 

I don’t usually swear on this site, even though I do in real life. Not a lot, but enough. I can hold back when I think it will offend people. Usually. But not today, because this is SO UPSETTING to me!

I have 25 years of pain in my wrists. It was my first symptom. But that’s not the reason it upsets me so much. No, it’s because of how I was treated. Doctors did horrible things to that wrist and to me. I had to start off my explanation by saying, “I don’t have PTSD but….” Because while it’s not PTSD, I do have a panic response. I told her that there is no one in this world I trust to touch my wrist, and that’s true. There are some people I trust to touch near it, and some don’t make me panic as much, but I don’t trust anyone. Not even my mother, my best friends, my past lovers. And certainly not medical professionals!

So we’ll see if she listens. If not, I might have to take more drastic action. But for now, we’ll see.

I try to be patient but she’s a medical professional. She should know better.


Getting ready to date

March 20, 2017

I’ve been super busy. Well, super busy for me, anyway. I have fewer “good” hours in a day than a healthy person, and they get filled up way too easily.

Which makes me wonder how I’ll manage to go on any dates.

I have written about dating on here many times. It’s not my favorite thing. I want a relationship, but I don’t want to date. First dates are difficult, tiring, time consuming. They’re full of small talk and uneasy silences at worst, and uncertainty at best.

I used to date a lot, but for the past 2 years I barely have. There are a lot of reasons for this, mostly having to do with bad breakups, a lack of energy, and different priorities. If I’m going to spend my  energy going out with people, I’d rather go out with friends. After all, I don’t see my friends enough anyway.

The thing is, that leaves me single and alone. I don’t mind being single and alone overall, actually. It’s really very nice in a lot of ways. But sometimes I want a companion. I want a best friend. I want sex.

So I’m trying to get back out there. Last month I went to a singles’ event and met two very nice people. The first was funny and interesting and smart… and self-centered. He never asked a single question about me. I knew all about his hobbies, his job, where he went to school. He doesn’t know any of that about me.

The next was cut and sweet and kind and lovely and said she’d like to be friends. Ouch.

So now what? I have two choices. I can sign up for OK Cupid or another site, which I really don’t want to do. I’m not a fan for a whole lot of reasons. Or I can try to meet someone in person, which hasn’t exactly gone well for me (see above: almost no dates for 2 years – and I wasn’t turning anyone down.)

I need to learn to flirt. At some point I stopped flirting, and it’s like I forgot how. I need to dress better – not easy when the clothing budget is $0. I need to make an effort.

An effort.

As if I don’t already make an effort every minute of every day. As if simply getting dressed and putting on minimal makeup and driving to meet someone and holding up my end of a conversation isn’t effort enough. As if dealing with my health isn’t effort enough.

But if I want to date, what choice do I have?

So I’m going to try. I’m going to dive back into the world of trying to flirt on a first date while also debating whether or not to hint at my health issues. I’m going to skip out on things during the day so I can have a simple coffee date in the evening. I’m going to go back into the world of suggesting alternatives to all of the dates that someone suggests which I know I can’t manage, without telling them why I’d rather sit in a coffee shop than enjoy an outdoor picnic. I’m going to go back to avoiding kisses on the first date because I haven’t yet told my date that the gluten they ate will make me sick if our lips connect.

And I’m going back into the world of constant rejection. Because apparently it’s not enough that my body rejects me, now I’m courting it from others. Somewhere in the last 10 years, between my late 20s and my late 30s, I stopped turning heads. So I need to accept that passive rejection as well.

So please wish me luck, friends. Particularly when it comes to finding the energy and pain-free days to go on dates. And please offer me any tips you have. Especially on flirting. I need lots of help with flirting.

 


Desperately wanting to get off benefits

February 26, 2017

As I started to write this, it felt incredibly familiar. So I did a quick search and what do you know, I wrote this almost identical post a year ago! So much has changed, and yet so much has stayed the same….

My health has continued to improve. No one is more surprised than me! It’s not like I’m well enough to work a full time job, or even a part time job from home that requires set hours. But I’m doing some part time work from home for myself (doing some consulting) that isn’t paying much yet, but there’s some hope. Still, it’s hard to aim for a very specific amount of money, knowing that I can’t earn “too much” because I’d lose my benefits.

Lately I’ve been more desperate than usual to get off of benefits. I hate the feeling of enforced poverty, and I’m not even poor! The income is way too low, but I have a ton of savings from back when I worked, and by cutting out all of my unnecessary expenses and getting a bit of help from my parents, I’m making it work.

The thing is, I don’t want help from my parents. They’re lovely and I adore them and they never do anything to make me feel bad about needing their help. But I was financially independent the day I graduated college (they paid for it, bless them.) I had a job, an apartment, and savings from all of my previous years of work. They might occasionally give a generous check as a birthday gift, but that was. Now, they pay for my cell phone, pick up groceries for me, and do other little things, in addition to helping out in larger ways. I love them for it. But I hate it.

On top of that, I miss luxuries! I don’t need anything too fancy, but I’d love to go out to dinner without having to worry about it. I want to buy a sweater or two to replace the 5 that are threadbare. I hate that everything I spend beyond my rent is coming out of my savings, with the knowledge that I’ll never be able to replace it. Once I was out of work for a while, and I spent money from my savings. Fine. Because I knew that once I got a job, I’d put money back into my savings accounts, and I did. But this is different. If I stay on this path, I will never again be able to save any money at all. And that sucks so much.

My new consulting business is financial coaching. It’s something I started doing ages ago, back when I had a full time job, but now I’m trying to do more of it. It sucks to advise people on how to build up their savings when I can’t do that for myself. I read books and blogs about effective ways to save, thinking about which principles I’d like to apply myself, and then I remember that I can’t, and I never will.

I feel trapped. And lately I’ve been trying to escape from the cage. But there’s no way out.

I do the math over and over. After all, that’s my thing: calculating money. I figure out how much I would need to earn in order to support myself without Social Security, fuel assistance, food stamps, MassHealth (Medicaid), Medicare, or my new affordable housing situation. I multiply for taxes. I do the math and it feels impossible. But what if….?

And then just as I begin to think it might be worth trying, I remember that even if I can manage to work for myself from home for a while, chances are good that my health will take a dive at some point and I’ll be unable to work again. I could try applying for benefits, but it took over 2 years the first time, and I there’s a good chance the next time I wouldn’t get them at all.

If I’m going to get off benefits now, I have to earn enough that I can save huge amounts every year to defend myself against needing benefits again in the future. I have a lot of savings now, but not enough to last the rest of my life, which could be another 50 or even 60 years. I would be too nervous to go off benefits until I was saving large amounts of money. That would be in addition to the money I’d need to earn to pay my regular bills.

This isn’t impossible. My odds are better than 0. It’s just that right now, at this moment, it doesn’t feel that way at all.

Still, I’m aching to get out of this cage.


I appreciate you

January 29, 2017

It’s easy to take the constants in our life for granted. We all do it, as much as we try not to, and that’s ok. From time to time, though, I’m struck by how lucky I am to have something, and I want to make a point of showing my appreciation.

You guys are one of those things I was taking for granted. When I started this site 5.5 years ago, one reason was to build up some community. I was thrilled when I received my first comment, and comments still excite me.

Some of you are regular commenters, and we’ve gotten to know each other a bit. I know the names of your pets (hi Sable!) or kids or spouses. I know your worries and happiness, just as you know mine. We haven’t met. Often we don’t know each others’ real names. Yet somehow we know each other. And for that I’m appreciative.

My posts last few posts were a bit negative. When I thought about writing something today, I thought I should write something more cheery so you guys wouldn’t worry about me. After all, it’s not like things are all bad.

It was such a nice thought, that there are people out there I’ve never met or spoken to who care. And I care about them.

There are negatives. There’s a rally today against Trump’s immigration ban that I wanted to attend but couldn’t. I was exposed to a stomach bug and am hoping I don’t get it. I’m in pain. On the other hand, my new business is starting to gain a bit of traction. I got to spend some time this weekend with people I love who I don’t get to see very often. My new home is lovely and comfortable and feels like the perfect fit for me.

But at the end of it all, what’s most important is people. My family, my friends, and my extended communities, like you guys, are what make life great.

So thanks for reading and for commenting. I’ll try to write something a bit less sappy next time. For now, though, I just want to say that I appreciate you.


Sometimes I just need hugs

January 23, 2017

It’s been an interesting time. Last month I moved to a new apartment in a new town after 10 years in my last apartment and 13 in that neighborhood. I’m meeting new people and getting used to a new way of life. And 2 days ago I went to a massive protest to protect my rights and speak out against those who want to destroy them.

I’m sure I’ll talk about the politics a different day, but today’s post isn’t about that. It’s about needing a hug.

On the weeks I don’t always see friends. When I do, we might give a cursory “hello” hug. This time of year I usually avoid those hugs, since it’s flu season my immune system sucks. But sometimes I just want one. And not a cursory hug. No, I want a REAL hug. The strong kind. The comforting kind.

The protest was emotional. 175,000 people flooding Boston Common. I’ve never seen or experienced anything like it. I hadn’t made plans to meet up with my friends beforehand because they were going to stand and watch the rally, while I was going to be in the accessible seating area. It was a great area, if only my friends had been there. We were going to find a way to meet up before the march began. Unfortunately, the cell phone towers couldn’t handle 175,000 people and the lines went down. I lost my signal for an hour and a half. By the time it came back, the march was starting and it was impossible to reach anyone. I was lonely the entire time. I chatting with folks, because that’s who I am, and it was great to talk to them. I probably wouldn’t have talked to so many strangers if I’d been with my friends. But I needed my friends. I needed to be around people I knew and who knew me. And I needed hugs. Alas, that never worked out.

I went home alone. I hung out with a neighbor who I like, but we’re not at the “comforting hugs” stage of our blooming friendship yet. Since then I have been at home, resting. In a few minutes I’ll leave my apartment for the first time since the march to take my car in for service. I doubt I’ll get a comforting hug there.

It’s not the end of the world. I’ll manage. But sometimes I just need a hug, and this is one of those times. I wish I had a friend or significant other who I could just hold and cuddle with until I felt a little less scared, angry, and bad.

Some of my restriction is me. I should have reached out to friends before the march to make more concrete plans. I should have asked them to join me in the seating area (why didn’t I ask? That’s something to explore another day.) Some of it is my health. I couldn’t go out yesterday. It was Sunday, and a lot of people were out and about, talking about this. I was at home resting. It was needed and it worked. Without that day to rest, I wouldn’t be able to bring my car in for service today. I was online talking to people. That helped. But it wasn’t the same as being with them in person. It was good, just not enough.

Because I still need a hug.


What should I tell my neighbors?

January 12, 2017

Usually disclosing my health status isn’t a problem for me. Usually. For some reason, this time it feels different.

After writing this blog for a while I realized that talking about this stuff felt freeing. I needed that. So I began to open up in real life. Bit by bit I felt the difference. The more I was open, the better it felt. It wasn’t about making an announcement, but simply not hiding anything. From time to time I’d meet someone new and I’d mention I had “health issues” and the rest would come out naturally. Easy.

Then a few weeks ago I moved. Normally that wouldn’t change a whole lot, but this is a very friendly and huge apartment complex. I have already met many of my neighbors. Sometimes we say a quick hello. Sometimes I pet their dog but never learn their name. Sometimes we exchange pleasantries. But I’ve had real conversations with a few of them. I love it! It’s so great to be friendly with my neighbors. Of course, the downside is that it means I have a lot to share with them and I’m not sure how to do it.

One neighbor offered me food. I said thank you, it looks great, but I have Celiac. That opened up the conversation around Celiac, but not around my other health problems. It was a start. Another neighbor talked about the benefits of living on the second floor, so I mentioned knee pain that prevents me from doing a lot of stairs. Now she knows about my knee pain, but not about the rest.

Another neighbor was talking about dating, and we compared online dating apps we’ve tried. I mentioned dating women. Coming out as bi is a lot like coming out as disabled or having a chronic illness. I feel like I shouldn’t have to announce it, but people assume I’m straight/healthy if I don’t say anything.

So far, all of these conversations have gone well. There’s been no negativity. Still, as I’m making many new friends and acquaintances all at once, I’m wondering how much to share.

I have already decided not to tell anyone that I’m in one of the “affordable housing” units. Or that I’m on disability benefits. Or that I’m on food stamps. Those things all come with assumptions and stereotypes that I don’t want to deal with right now. If I become friends with someone then I might tell them, but until then, I’m keeping quiet. Besides, even if one person is cool with it, they might be a gossip who tells others, and that would be a problem.

So I’m not telling anyone about my financial arrangements, but that doesn’t mean I can’t tell them about my health. The two aren’t always related. I was disabled to a lesser extent back when I was working a full time job.

This isn’t something I want to hide. But I also don’t want to be known as “the sick one” or “the one who is always complaining about her health” – we all know that even when something is simply stated as fact it’s often heard as a complaint – or “the one with all those health problems.” I want people to know me as me. The problem is, these health problems are part of me.

Also, I need to be realistic. At some point I will ask a neighbor to help me with something that a “healthy” person can typically do, and they will wonder what’s wrong with me. I might as well get ahead of that.

Disclosure has to be decided in the moment, on a case by case basis. I know that. Still, it’s hard not to think about how I should approach this. Maybe I think too much, but it’s served me well so far. And so I am being very careful with my approach. Until the day I get fed up and just start announcing it to everyone, because I know that sooner or later, that will happen too.

Have you ever found yourself making a lot of new friends at once, but not in a single day? How do you handle whether or not to disclose, and how much detail to share?


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