So on Friday I'll be going in to see my doctor about some testing, since my pregnancy test did come back negative. While I'll still need to have one more of those run, just to rule out the last of the fun and games we had since I wasn't on active birth control for that three week run, I still need to know what the hell is wrong with me.
Unfortunately, while I'm very much aware there are many, many women out there who are coming up negative on pregnancy tests in this country because of antibodies bonding to the HCG hormones in their bodies, that are masking pregnancies, and they only find out by ultrasound about the babies, I can't exactly just sit around and wait.
Thus, I searched out other stuff...and came up with the fact that one other thing fits my symptoms. And it sucked. Enough that in spite of my hating dealing with my doctor, off to the stupid ass physician I go. Apparently ovarian cancer also fits most of my symptoms pretty damned well.
And since I've already had cancer, and the majority of my immediate family has also had reproductive cancer in some fashion, I guess I'm about to go through a round of testing, just to be sure. I'm not willing to take that kind of a chance. My health is already unstable enough without throwing an advanced case of cancer that *can't* be treated into the mix.
The Mayo Clinic website on Ovarian Cancer
Signs and symptoms
Symptoms of ovarian cancer are nonspecific and mimic those of many other more common conditions, including digestive and bladder disorders. It isn't unusual for a woman with ovarian cancer to be diagnosed with another condition before finally learning she has cancer. The key seems to be persistent or worsening signs and symptoms. With most digestive disorders, symptoms tend to come and go, or they occur in certain situations or after eating certain foods. With ovarian cancer, there's typically little fluctuation — symptoms are constant and gradually worsen.
Recent studies have shown that women with ovarian cancer are more likely than are other women to consistently experience the following symptoms:
* Abdominal pressure, fullness, swelling or bloating
* Urinary urgency
* Pelvic discomfort or pain
Additional signs and symptoms that women with ovarian cancer may experience include:
* Persistent indigestion, gas or nausea
* Unexplained changes in bowel habits, including diarrhea or constipation
* Changes in bladder habits, including a frequent need to urinate
* Loss of appetite
* Unexplained weight loss or gain
* Increased abdominal girth or clothes fitting tighter around your waist
* Pain during intercourse (dyspareunia)
* A persistent lack of energy
* Low back pain
Doctors can usually diagnose ovarian cancer within three months of women first noticing symptoms, but sometimes it may take six months or longer before a diagnosis can be made.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
choices
So I guess that it always comes down to something. Everyone has to make their own choices about things. I read that somewhere today. You can choose to be happy or unhappy about things. You can choose to respond to how things happen in your life. Sometimes it's harder to make a certain choice about how you feel, and I suppose that actually *is* true.
Right now, I feel rotten. And I'm probably going to feel that way for a little while, and then I'll set it aside, and push past it, because I don't want to feel that way anymore.
I'm tired of people breaking promises to me. I know that they're going to. I even expected to have those promises broken. Was braced for it, in fact. And still it hurt, to realize that in spite of all those protestations, in the end, the words were lies. I had told him to his face that he was lying to both me and himself. And he still tried to convince me that it wasn't so.
Prove me wrong. I know you won't. But you're welcome to try.
And to you, you stalking idiot: Ultimatums? What was the point? He'll always come back to me. You get him. You have him. And in the end, he always comes back to me, and ends up in my bed, in my arms, and being held by me. It's a sick, twisted pattern. But it *is* a pattern. If he was going to be faithful, he wouldn't have ended up naked with you in January. He wouldn't have ended up in my bed within weeks of making a "commitment" with you. It doesn't make him a bad person, it simply makes him not a great boyfriend. As soon as he has a tie to someone, he immediately balks and wants to be free. And needs to not have a leash around him. Even if he loves you, he'll end up in my bed. Not intentionally, and it might take a while. Hell, it might not even be *my* bed. But it will be someone's, unless he does nothing but sit alone in his room, and see no one. Because he likes to look, he likes to touch, and he likes to be free.
And everyone makes choices, unconsciously or not. Me? I don't mind playing around. I don't cheat. I don't play around if I'm with someone. But what other people do? I don't judge them for. I don't care if he has a girlfriend. Never have, never will. Didn't care about some of the other men I was involved with either. As long as *I* am single, it makes no difference to me. Their conscience, not mine.
Meh, whatever. I'm bored posting now.
I'm going to go make dinner.
Right now, I feel rotten. And I'm probably going to feel that way for a little while, and then I'll set it aside, and push past it, because I don't want to feel that way anymore.
I'm tired of people breaking promises to me. I know that they're going to. I even expected to have those promises broken. Was braced for it, in fact. And still it hurt, to realize that in spite of all those protestations, in the end, the words were lies. I had told him to his face that he was lying to both me and himself. And he still tried to convince me that it wasn't so.
Prove me wrong. I know you won't. But you're welcome to try.
And to you, you stalking idiot: Ultimatums? What was the point? He'll always come back to me. You get him. You have him. And in the end, he always comes back to me, and ends up in my bed, in my arms, and being held by me. It's a sick, twisted pattern. But it *is* a pattern. If he was going to be faithful, he wouldn't have ended up naked with you in January. He wouldn't have ended up in my bed within weeks of making a "commitment" with you. It doesn't make him a bad person, it simply makes him not a great boyfriend. As soon as he has a tie to someone, he immediately balks and wants to be free. And needs to not have a leash around him. Even if he loves you, he'll end up in my bed. Not intentionally, and it might take a while. Hell, it might not even be *my* bed. But it will be someone's, unless he does nothing but sit alone in his room, and see no one. Because he likes to look, he likes to touch, and he likes to be free.
And everyone makes choices, unconsciously or not. Me? I don't mind playing around. I don't cheat. I don't play around if I'm with someone. But what other people do? I don't judge them for. I don't care if he has a girlfriend. Never have, never will. Didn't care about some of the other men I was involved with either. As long as *I* am single, it makes no difference to me. Their conscience, not mine.
Meh, whatever. I'm bored posting now.
I'm going to go make dinner.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
On cheating and deception.
Truth About Deception. It's a website that I found, and it's a really neat interesting read. It has stuff on cheating, and relationships, and confessing what you've done, and why and when you should or shouldn't. It has all kinds of very interesting stuff. How to catch your partner in lies, and just all kinds of interesting stuff. I read through all kinds of links on there, and will probably go back and read more, but I though I'd post the link here for anyone who was interested. It's sort of in the same vein of the love addiction thing I posted about a while back.
An interesting read.
An interesting read.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
I don't like you
And I don't like it that you read my blog. And I like it even less that I now have to give thought to editing what I do or don't post here, because out of deference to my respect for someone, I need to edit my blogging. That irritates the shit out of me.
Personally? I don't believe a fucking word that comes out of your mouth to him about anything. I never have, and I'm never going to. Too much of what you've told him, tell him, and are going to tell him continuously doesn't add up, has never added up, and will most likely will continue to not make any sense at all.
But precious you, and him and his blinders want to believe all the bullshit you feed him so badly that he'll swallow any amount of shit if it means that you can remain up there on that pedestal. Hey, fine, whatever. I'm not altogether fond of sitting in the clouds, myself. Air's a little too rarified for my taste. I prefer the real world down here, complete with good, honest life, love, sickness and health and all the stuff that goes with it. But that's just one of *my* personal little quirks.
The simple fact is that I've never seen so many people tell so many other people so much bullshit in my life. Everybody loves everyone. Nobody talks to anyone. And me? I'm just a bystander over here in my corner of the world. I know when he does or doesn't talk to you. How could I not? I'm *here*. You're not. And yes, you'll get awfully snotty now, and yell at him, because you read this, and it'll give you nice grounds to scream at him, and tell him how horrible he is for, well, whatever reason you choose to use this week.
And you're so *good* at it. Fucking with his head. I was completely fucking flabbergasted at how badly his head was twisted around again, when I talked to him, after having not talked to him for a couple of weeks. At all the psychological twisting that had been done in such a short period of time. It's what I hate most about you. It always seems like such a shitty thing. Every time that he gets done talking to you, I spend the next little while undoing things. Reaffirming things, and putting back his self-esteem and self-confidence. The ones you somehow remove. Can't stand himself. Can't want to spend time with himself. Isn't worth anything.
Gods, how I hate what it is that you do to him. And how I hate the ease with which you can manipulate him. I hate everything women like you represent. Because there are so damned many of you. And so few women like me.
I honestly don't have any need to catch a man. To trap a man. To keep a man. I don't have a burning desire to play games with them, to fuck with their heads or to manipulate them. And so fucking many women like you do. It's a great game to you.
And once you have what you want...and to be perfectly honest, I'm still puzzling over what the fuck that is, exactly. Been trying to figure that out for freaking *years*, but once you have what you want, you pretty much laugh on your way out the door, as you move on to your next conquest, to find another man to play the game with. And the one you've just broken into pieces is completely shattered.
I know why men think most women are complete cunts, to be fucked and treated like shit. Because there are so many women who fall into the 'head games' category, that for the most part, why the fuck does anybody even bother?
Which leaves women like me, the ones who are just wandering around doing our thing getting royally screwed over. We get cheated on, we get used, and dropped and left, for women like you. Head cases, manipulators, liars. You say all the right words. You're "vulnerable". You need them. You need to be taken care of. You know all the right things to make a man feel on top of the world, like he's the most important thing ever...right up until you pull the wool off his eyes, and the rug out from under his feet...and flaunt his replacement in front of him.
Me? I have no idea what the "right" thing to say is. Because all I ever say is the truth. And the truth tends to hurt. I'm blunt to the point of it being painful, because I don't know any other way to be. I don't mean to hurt someone's feelings. I just don't quite know how to sugarcoat things. I have no qualms about telling a man the truth. I have no need to lie. If I want you, I say that. If I want to play, I say it. If I want to stop, I say it. When you've hurt me, I say that. I'm very simple to deal with that way. And I don't like turning on tears to get my way. That's my biggest failing. I'd rather send you away than try to use tears to manipulate you. I don't *want* to manipulate a man to get my way.
Oh well.
So yes, I don't like you. I think you're a horrible excuse for a sack of flesh, and a manipulating bitch. I know too much, and I am not as gullible and easily manipulated and blinded by emotional attachment. I know it's bullshit.
But I also know all of the truth. What was that flair pin? "The truth shall set you free. But first it will piss you off." How's that for accuracy.
Personally? I don't believe a fucking word that comes out of your mouth to him about anything. I never have, and I'm never going to. Too much of what you've told him, tell him, and are going to tell him continuously doesn't add up, has never added up, and will most likely will continue to not make any sense at all.
But precious you, and him and his blinders want to believe all the bullshit you feed him so badly that he'll swallow any amount of shit if it means that you can remain up there on that pedestal. Hey, fine, whatever. I'm not altogether fond of sitting in the clouds, myself. Air's a little too rarified for my taste. I prefer the real world down here, complete with good, honest life, love, sickness and health and all the stuff that goes with it. But that's just one of *my* personal little quirks.
The simple fact is that I've never seen so many people tell so many other people so much bullshit in my life. Everybody loves everyone. Nobody talks to anyone. And me? I'm just a bystander over here in my corner of the world. I know when he does or doesn't talk to you. How could I not? I'm *here*. You're not. And yes, you'll get awfully snotty now, and yell at him, because you read this, and it'll give you nice grounds to scream at him, and tell him how horrible he is for, well, whatever reason you choose to use this week.
And you're so *good* at it. Fucking with his head. I was completely fucking flabbergasted at how badly his head was twisted around again, when I talked to him, after having not talked to him for a couple of weeks. At all the psychological twisting that had been done in such a short period of time. It's what I hate most about you. It always seems like such a shitty thing. Every time that he gets done talking to you, I spend the next little while undoing things. Reaffirming things, and putting back his self-esteem and self-confidence. The ones you somehow remove. Can't stand himself. Can't want to spend time with himself. Isn't worth anything.
Gods, how I hate what it is that you do to him. And how I hate the ease with which you can manipulate him. I hate everything women like you represent. Because there are so damned many of you. And so few women like me.
I honestly don't have any need to catch a man. To trap a man. To keep a man. I don't have a burning desire to play games with them, to fuck with their heads or to manipulate them. And so fucking many women like you do. It's a great game to you.
And once you have what you want...and to be perfectly honest, I'm still puzzling over what the fuck that is, exactly. Been trying to figure that out for freaking *years*, but once you have what you want, you pretty much laugh on your way out the door, as you move on to your next conquest, to find another man to play the game with. And the one you've just broken into pieces is completely shattered.
I know why men think most women are complete cunts, to be fucked and treated like shit. Because there are so many women who fall into the 'head games' category, that for the most part, why the fuck does anybody even bother?
Which leaves women like me, the ones who are just wandering around doing our thing getting royally screwed over. We get cheated on, we get used, and dropped and left, for women like you. Head cases, manipulators, liars. You say all the right words. You're "vulnerable". You need them. You need to be taken care of. You know all the right things to make a man feel on top of the world, like he's the most important thing ever...right up until you pull the wool off his eyes, and the rug out from under his feet...and flaunt his replacement in front of him.
Me? I have no idea what the "right" thing to say is. Because all I ever say is the truth. And the truth tends to hurt. I'm blunt to the point of it being painful, because I don't know any other way to be. I don't mean to hurt someone's feelings. I just don't quite know how to sugarcoat things. I have no qualms about telling a man the truth. I have no need to lie. If I want you, I say that. If I want to play, I say it. If I want to stop, I say it. When you've hurt me, I say that. I'm very simple to deal with that way. And I don't like turning on tears to get my way. That's my biggest failing. I'd rather send you away than try to use tears to manipulate you. I don't *want* to manipulate a man to get my way.
Oh well.
So yes, I don't like you. I think you're a horrible excuse for a sack of flesh, and a manipulating bitch. I know too much, and I am not as gullible and easily manipulated and blinded by emotional attachment. I know it's bullshit.
But I also know all of the truth. What was that flair pin? "The truth shall set you free. But first it will piss you off." How's that for accuracy.
Friday, April 25, 2008
updates from a PC instead of a Mac
And wow, for me this feels incredibly strange. I haven't blogged from a PC with a regular keyboard in...I honestly don't even remember when. I better get good at it rather quickly though, since my job will depend on my being able to type quickly and competently with this keyboard. Practice makes perfect though, correct? And so practice I shall. As I sit at my desk, egads, a desk, using a PC. Feels oh so strange.
The last couple of weeks have been strange in general for me. And it isn't just the computer. Although I have to say, I do rather like having a desk. And a printer. And a chair. Anyhow.
Trinette is moved in, and the normal amount of chaos that comes with a new roommate has commenced. And so there have been boxes and all that moving around. The living room actually looks really good, and she did a phenomenal job putting the new entertainment center together. I was astounded at how fast she assembled that. Hell on wheels at the organizing of things, that one. Stewie will most likely hook up the surround sound, since he's who usually does it. And Phil moved all the other components and hooked those up, because Trin and I are both hopeless for that stuff.
Phil's been here and sick for a couple of weeks. I really did give him the Plague. I feel rotten about it. As it turns out, I'm hoping that what he has is some sort of ear infection. Melissa, once I described how he keeps waking up disoriented and dizzy, but it smooths out some in the afternoon, said it sounds like an inner ear infection, after having gotten my head cold a couple weeks ago. So he's on antibiotics now. He finally headed home this afternoon. I guess a guy can only take a couple of weeks of being fussed over. I wouldn't be so worried if he'd been eating, but he didn't eat for about a week, and for Phillip, not eating is the equivalent of being dead. So I was massively worried. But he finally started eating yesterday, so with the antibiotics, perhaps he's getting better now. I hope so, anyhow. Trinette tried feeding him Miso soup, but he didn't like it much. He seemed very fond of teriyaki chicken and broccoli though :)
I don't know. Everything this last week has been strange. I met, or should I say, re-met Ryan Rooks. He remembers me, but I can't remember him. I really like him though. Quite enjoy his company. He is an old friend of Trinette's from high school, or possibly before then, I don't recall. He is truly brilliant, and yet, also very down to earth and pleasant to be around and just sit and BS about anything with. I truly enjoy his presence at the apartment. And Stew's been coming around now that Trin's here. I hope to see who else pops up now that she's here. Kat's been here quite a bit, just hanging out with us.
I know things will fall into some semblance of a routine, because even I will have to start having one, but for right now just spending time with my friend who I had missed so very much for the last eight years is wonderful. So much so, in fact, that I'm going to stop blogging now, and grab a movie and go put it on in the living room and spend some more time with her, instead of with my computer. Although by now she's also had time to email Steven, and check her emails and that sort of thing. So it works out just as well in the end.
Oh, yes, one more note. I *should* be able to start my job within the next two weeks at the very outside, which should result in a paycheck within a month after that. YAY! And after that, things should finally smooth out the rest of the way for me.
I know a lot of people have been worried about me lately, but I'm doing alright now. More so now that Trinette is here, and things are a little more balanced. Melissa is still calling and checking up on me, although her plate is definitely full enough for any three normal people all the time. She's watching *two* extra 18 month old's full time, along with her own three kids, and juggling all her other normal projects, but that's her normal. And still has time to call and make sure my life isn't going too far insane. I loves Melissa :)
So yes, there's my "from the PC" update for the day. Hehehehehe.
I make the byebyes now.
The last couple of weeks have been strange in general for me. And it isn't just the computer. Although I have to say, I do rather like having a desk. And a printer. And a chair. Anyhow.
Trinette is moved in, and the normal amount of chaos that comes with a new roommate has commenced. And so there have been boxes and all that moving around. The living room actually looks really good, and she did a phenomenal job putting the new entertainment center together. I was astounded at how fast she assembled that. Hell on wheels at the organizing of things, that one. Stewie will most likely hook up the surround sound, since he's who usually does it. And Phil moved all the other components and hooked those up, because Trin and I are both hopeless for that stuff.
Phil's been here and sick for a couple of weeks. I really did give him the Plague. I feel rotten about it. As it turns out, I'm hoping that what he has is some sort of ear infection. Melissa, once I described how he keeps waking up disoriented and dizzy, but it smooths out some in the afternoon, said it sounds like an inner ear infection, after having gotten my head cold a couple weeks ago. So he's on antibiotics now. He finally headed home this afternoon. I guess a guy can only take a couple of weeks of being fussed over. I wouldn't be so worried if he'd been eating, but he didn't eat for about a week, and for Phillip, not eating is the equivalent of being dead. So I was massively worried. But he finally started eating yesterday, so with the antibiotics, perhaps he's getting better now. I hope so, anyhow. Trinette tried feeding him Miso soup, but he didn't like it much. He seemed very fond of teriyaki chicken and broccoli though :)
I don't know. Everything this last week has been strange. I met, or should I say, re-met Ryan Rooks. He remembers me, but I can't remember him. I really like him though. Quite enjoy his company. He is an old friend of Trinette's from high school, or possibly before then, I don't recall. He is truly brilliant, and yet, also very down to earth and pleasant to be around and just sit and BS about anything with. I truly enjoy his presence at the apartment. And Stew's been coming around now that Trin's here. I hope to see who else pops up now that she's here. Kat's been here quite a bit, just hanging out with us.
I know things will fall into some semblance of a routine, because even I will have to start having one, but for right now just spending time with my friend who I had missed so very much for the last eight years is wonderful. So much so, in fact, that I'm going to stop blogging now, and grab a movie and go put it on in the living room and spend some more time with her, instead of with my computer. Although by now she's also had time to email Steven, and check her emails and that sort of thing. So it works out just as well in the end.
Oh, yes, one more note. I *should* be able to start my job within the next two weeks at the very outside, which should result in a paycheck within a month after that. YAY! And after that, things should finally smooth out the rest of the way for me.
I know a lot of people have been worried about me lately, but I'm doing alright now. More so now that Trinette is here, and things are a little more balanced. Melissa is still calling and checking up on me, although her plate is definitely full enough for any three normal people all the time. She's watching *two* extra 18 month old's full time, along with her own three kids, and juggling all her other normal projects, but that's her normal. And still has time to call and make sure my life isn't going too far insane. I loves Melissa :)
So yes, there's my "from the PC" update for the day. Hehehehehe.
I make the byebyes now.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
In other news
Trinette is here, and moved in, and that went well. It's still fairly chaotic, but things are going pretty well.
Last week, I picked up some kind of plague from Connor, last Friday to be precise, on the 11th, and I then proceeded to share it with Phil, who was sick as a dog for most of this past week. I felt kind of bad, and have been babying him. Poor guy missed work more than half the week because I gave him the plague.
But the move with Trinette went well. Stewie, Kat and I helped to move her in. Well, Stewie and Mr. Miller and Trinette moved and hauled and Kat and I unpacked and put away. And then we all went to the grandparent's house and unloaded more, and were provided with barbecue. Yay!
Overall, it went well. And now she's here, and things are smoothing out. And oh, damn, I need to get off the computer, and remember to drag us to Home Depot and buy stuff! Phil said he can do stuff like lock changing and shelf hanging and other such handyman skill-oriented things that I lack skills for.
So off I go.
Last week, I picked up some kind of plague from Connor, last Friday to be precise, on the 11th, and I then proceeded to share it with Phil, who was sick as a dog for most of this past week. I felt kind of bad, and have been babying him. Poor guy missed work more than half the week because I gave him the plague.
But the move with Trinette went well. Stewie, Kat and I helped to move her in. Well, Stewie and Mr. Miller and Trinette moved and hauled and Kat and I unpacked and put away. And then we all went to the grandparent's house and unloaded more, and were provided with barbecue. Yay!
Overall, it went well. And now she's here, and things are smoothing out. And oh, damn, I need to get off the computer, and remember to drag us to Home Depot and buy stuff! Phil said he can do stuff like lock changing and shelf hanging and other such handyman skill-oriented things that I lack skills for.
So off I go.
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