The Living Dead Arise
Feb. 19th, 2012 01:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chochiyo_samaI am not even going to attempt to catch up.
Most important thing: I fell on the ice about a month ago--it was a Friday. The brakes had gone out on my car the previous weekend, and I had taken the car to be repaired on Thursday. They returned it, and I went to pay the bill on Friday afternoon. It had been chilly and windy all day and a misty rain-drizzle had just begun to fall. The sidewalk was just wet, not slippery, and the body shop was about a block from my mom's. I wasn't gone more than ten minutes.
When I returned, the driveway outside my car was still just wet. I started around the front of the car and my foot slid. I landed with all my weight on my left knee on the cement. I almost slid under the front end of my car. When I tried to get up, I had no traction on either foot--both slid away the minute I tried to get into position to get up. It was the most horrible, helpless, powerless feeling I have ever felt.
I finally had to crawl several feet on the cement into the patch of snow covered rocks mom has landscaped around the front of her house and force my messed up knees to hoist me up. It was agony. Getting into the house and down into the basement was almost impossible, but I did it. Any weight at all on my left knee was profoundly excruciating. The right knee wasn't too much better. From crawling on the freezing cold snow, both of my hands were white and so cold they were burning. When I got to my recliner, I just started to cry. On top of everything else...this. It hurt like a bitch too, make no mistake. But I didn't cry for the pain so much as for the overwhelming sense of being buried alive under mounds and mounds of insurmountable SHIT.
Fortunately for me, I had a partial bottle of codeine painkillers left over from a while back. I took one of those every six hours for over a week. Walking was nearly impossible, but I had to do what I had to do. I didn't want to take too much codeine--God only knows when the next horrific event will happen. So I weaned myself down to 2 a day, then one. Now, I'm codeine free again. My left knee is much much better, but the right one, which has always beene the worse one, has been all stirred up and is constantly aching and throbbing. I've gone back to two naproxin a day--I had been down to 1 in the morning as I am trying to save money by weaning myself off unnecessary meds. I'm almost off the Wellbutrin. I'll only be taking three this coming week. I am also weaning off the citlapram. I'm taking half doses every other day.
The only side effects I can see is that the section of my feet connected to my toes feels a little numb and at night, my legs feel very restless. Sometimes rubbing them with lotion helps. Sometimes, I resort to taking a little Nyquil which always puts me out. Now, about a month out from the fall, I'm discovering smaller pains that the knees prevented me from noticing before--like my lower back is so tight and it aches all the time. My right ribs were hurting for a while, but they seem to have settled down. I also have a very tender spot on my left hand between the base of my thumb and my wrist. Also, my right shoulder blade on up into the right side of my neck, all the way up into my skull behind the right ear. I feel so broken.
I've kept myself busy sewing doll clothes and reading. I read all three books in the Hunger Games series. Now I am both eager for and dreading the release of the movie based on them. I enjoyed the books. Will they totally destroy the author's original plot and replace it with a bunch of bullshit? Or just alter the story so much that it bears nearly no resemblance to the original book? That's what they often do with really good novels. Jumper, for example, was a book I enjoyed immensely. When I saw it had been made into a movie, I was thrilled. Then I saw the movie. What. The. Fuck. Was. That? Certainly nothing remotely like the story *I* read.
Anyhow.
I also watched the whole North and South television miniseries, which I had originally bought for my mom for Christmas, but then couldn't locate it when I wrapped the gifts. Old Patrick Swayze was really rockin' that mullet. LOL. He was so handsome. The miniseries was really lavish. I loved the sets and the costumes. Basically it was a historical soap opera, but I still enjoyed it. Now I have been watching the first season of The Mentalist. I found it for $19.99 at Wallmart, and it jumped into my basket. A few weeks later, I bought Season 2. I'm not done watching Season 1 yet, but I am enjoying it. The Patrick Jane character is fun. I like the ensemble cast too. They are an unlikely bunch--but they gel.
I've been trying to plod my way through We Bought a Zoo--possibly the only case I can think of where I liked the book better than the movie. The book is extremely hard for me to get into.
I sewed two very adorable winter swap outfits--one for the Kish Riley doll and one for the Kish Chrysallis doll. I have pictures that I will post up when I get the chance. I also looked for Easter crafts that could be modified for the LeeAnn doll Easter swap that is coming up. I found a really cute felt rabbit which I modified (made it much smaller) and I have made quite a few of them.
Yesterday I swap the movie The Woman in Black with my sister Joni. Kim was supposed to have gone along too--but she was sick. I LOVED the sets and the ambiance of the movie. The story? Not so much. Sucky ending. Stupid ghost. Why are all vengeful ghosts so black and white? Where is there reason? If it is an intelligent haunting, the ghost should be open to reason. And why kill children? They children had no connection whatsoever to the person the ghost was angry at...and, if anything, she should be able to empathize with other people regarding children. I could see her carrying on her vengeful grudge while her sister and her brother in law were alive, but once they were dead, what was the point? Other than a judge or lawyer involved in taking her child from her, no one else did her wrong.
Stupid ghost.
I will be back with more later. Mom has made some lunch and I must go eat it.
Most important thing: I fell on the ice about a month ago--it was a Friday. The brakes had gone out on my car the previous weekend, and I had taken the car to be repaired on Thursday. They returned it, and I went to pay the bill on Friday afternoon. It had been chilly and windy all day and a misty rain-drizzle had just begun to fall. The sidewalk was just wet, not slippery, and the body shop was about a block from my mom's. I wasn't gone more than ten minutes.
When I returned, the driveway outside my car was still just wet. I started around the front of the car and my foot slid. I landed with all my weight on my left knee on the cement. I almost slid under the front end of my car. When I tried to get up, I had no traction on either foot--both slid away the minute I tried to get into position to get up. It was the most horrible, helpless, powerless feeling I have ever felt.
I finally had to crawl several feet on the cement into the patch of snow covered rocks mom has landscaped around the front of her house and force my messed up knees to hoist me up. It was agony. Getting into the house and down into the basement was almost impossible, but I did it. Any weight at all on my left knee was profoundly excruciating. The right knee wasn't too much better. From crawling on the freezing cold snow, both of my hands were white and so cold they were burning. When I got to my recliner, I just started to cry. On top of everything else...this. It hurt like a bitch too, make no mistake. But I didn't cry for the pain so much as for the overwhelming sense of being buried alive under mounds and mounds of insurmountable SHIT.
Fortunately for me, I had a partial bottle of codeine painkillers left over from a while back. I took one of those every six hours for over a week. Walking was nearly impossible, but I had to do what I had to do. I didn't want to take too much codeine--God only knows when the next horrific event will happen. So I weaned myself down to 2 a day, then one. Now, I'm codeine free again. My left knee is much much better, but the right one, which has always beene the worse one, has been all stirred up and is constantly aching and throbbing. I've gone back to two naproxin a day--I had been down to 1 in the morning as I am trying to save money by weaning myself off unnecessary meds. I'm almost off the Wellbutrin. I'll only be taking three this coming week. I am also weaning off the citlapram. I'm taking half doses every other day.
The only side effects I can see is that the section of my feet connected to my toes feels a little numb and at night, my legs feel very restless. Sometimes rubbing them with lotion helps. Sometimes, I resort to taking a little Nyquil which always puts me out. Now, about a month out from the fall, I'm discovering smaller pains that the knees prevented me from noticing before--like my lower back is so tight and it aches all the time. My right ribs were hurting for a while, but they seem to have settled down. I also have a very tender spot on my left hand between the base of my thumb and my wrist. Also, my right shoulder blade on up into the right side of my neck, all the way up into my skull behind the right ear. I feel so broken.
I've kept myself busy sewing doll clothes and reading. I read all three books in the Hunger Games series. Now I am both eager for and dreading the release of the movie based on them. I enjoyed the books. Will they totally destroy the author's original plot and replace it with a bunch of bullshit? Or just alter the story so much that it bears nearly no resemblance to the original book? That's what they often do with really good novels. Jumper, for example, was a book I enjoyed immensely. When I saw it had been made into a movie, I was thrilled. Then I saw the movie. What. The. Fuck. Was. That? Certainly nothing remotely like the story *I* read.
Anyhow.
I also watched the whole North and South television miniseries, which I had originally bought for my mom for Christmas, but then couldn't locate it when I wrapped the gifts. Old Patrick Swayze was really rockin' that mullet. LOL. He was so handsome. The miniseries was really lavish. I loved the sets and the costumes. Basically it was a historical soap opera, but I still enjoyed it. Now I have been watching the first season of The Mentalist. I found it for $19.99 at Wallmart, and it jumped into my basket. A few weeks later, I bought Season 2. I'm not done watching Season 1 yet, but I am enjoying it. The Patrick Jane character is fun. I like the ensemble cast too. They are an unlikely bunch--but they gel.
I've been trying to plod my way through We Bought a Zoo--possibly the only case I can think of where I liked the book better than the movie. The book is extremely hard for me to get into.
I sewed two very adorable winter swap outfits--one for the Kish Riley doll and one for the Kish Chrysallis doll. I have pictures that I will post up when I get the chance. I also looked for Easter crafts that could be modified for the LeeAnn doll Easter swap that is coming up. I found a really cute felt rabbit which I modified (made it much smaller) and I have made quite a few of them.
Yesterday I swap the movie The Woman in Black with my sister Joni. Kim was supposed to have gone along too--but she was sick. I LOVED the sets and the ambiance of the movie. The story? Not so much. Sucky ending. Stupid ghost. Why are all vengeful ghosts so black and white? Where is there reason? If it is an intelligent haunting, the ghost should be open to reason. And why kill children? They children had no connection whatsoever to the person the ghost was angry at...and, if anything, she should be able to empathize with other people regarding children. I could see her carrying on her vengeful grudge while her sister and her brother in law were alive, but once they were dead, what was the point? Other than a judge or lawyer involved in taking her child from her, no one else did her wrong.
Stupid ghost.
I will be back with more later. Mom has made some lunch and I must go eat it.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-19 11:17 pm (UTC)You are so lucky to have meds.
I remember when I had my appendix out my Mom didn't want me to take the Vicodin, afraid I'd get addicted like my loser brother in law. So I only took them for three days and then stopped. But I hurt like hell. I would lay in my bed and cry at night because I was so tired I wanted to sleep but I couldn't find any position that didn't hurt. I should have taken the meds. And the doctor? She asked if 10 days was enough before going back to work. I didn't know so I said I guess, is that the usual? So after one week (plus the weekends) I went back to work. The secretary was nice enough to give me her parking space the second day because I parked so far away I could hardly walk to the office. Someone said I must be a fast healer because her husband was out for three weeks. Shit. I could have had three weeks off. The only thing that saved me was I got shingles and was out again for another week. Then the wildfires came and that was another week. That upside of the shingles was that all of the pain from the appendectomy was gone. Replaced with agonizing itching and burning.
I'm trying to learn my lesson. From now on I'm taking as much sick leave as possible. And if I am given meds, I'm going to take them.
Except for the cholesterol statins. Them I want to stop.
I love the Mentalist. My Mom tapes it and I watch it with her on Saturday nights. We also like Castle. Both similar premises, but different.