Thank You Bloggies!

November 22, 2012

I’m thankful to still be alive, despite all the hell I was in this year. I’m thankful for regaining some semblance of mental stability and for my lifelines–little Luna and swimming, this blog, and yes, even my wonderful wacky family who have all been my support as of late. I’m thankful for their unlimited love. I’m thankful that I have a relationship with my brother again. I’m thankful that he has a great girlfriend.

I’m thankful the operation finally went well.

I’m thankful that there was FINALLY a cease fire in Gaza!

I’m thankful for Monkey Man’s ukulele, the best memento I have left from him. Rest in peace my lovely man. I’m thankful I got to know you, to know your love, and I’m thankful that you were in my life you crazy, crazy borderline bastard!

I’m thankful for having had the chance to meet all the amazing people here in bloggie land!

You have all been my lifeline too, more than you know. But…

The true meaning of Thanksgiving.

I kid. I know, I always have to throw in something ironic, cynical and vulgar. But it’s just me and my PLDs (Pretty Little Demons for those of you that don’t know).

Mouse love

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Sexy Surgery Gone RIGHT!

November 18, 2012

Oh yes, it was a successful surgery and very sexy indeed.

The lovely Sara Draws brought this sexiness to my attention. This was the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of the not-so-sexy surgery gone wrong two years ago.

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Tomorrow will complete a week since my jaw surgery. I have therapy with Brunet Young at eleven then have to go to the hospital, which is fortunately nearby, for my follow-up on the surgery.

Maaaan, I just can’t believe how well it went! I keep gloating about it. In fact, on Wednesday I believe it was, I started crying uncontrollably in the shower. I realized the tears were tears of relief–purifying tears as a dear friend says.

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It went something like this:

I panicked Thursday and called my therapist, Brunet Young. Cried Sunday. Woke up Monday to face what I had to face on my face. I had to pee in a cup for a pregnancy test, put on robes that were four times my length and three times my width and put on my cap. All I could think of was how horrible it was last time. How I woke up with lips so swollen that they blocked my nostrils; how they told me my jaw had split in two; how I’d had a plate inserted to hold it together, a plate which was later found misplaced, sticking out of my skin; how my mouth was wired shut for four months, and how it hurt so much for the last two years, ugh… It all came back and I tried my best not to panic.

One of the docs slipped an IV into my vein and I got drowsy. But I guess I was so nervous that I didn’t fall asleep. They rolled me  into the operating room and there, with the oxygen mask, I finally closed my eyes.

*****

Young male doctors caressed my face then made a small incision in my outer cheek and a larger one inside my jaw. They then unscrewed the screwed-up screws.

“P, P” a voice near my ear said, “Everything went fine.”

I faintly smiled and with hazy eyes and blurred vision, I moaned, “Man, I had the strangest dream.”

“Really? A lot of patients get that from anesthesia. What was it about?”

“I have no idea.”

And I fell back into sleep.

I lied with blood on my hair and dried flakes of blood on my neck while a cute bearded nurse-boy asked if I wanted a suction tube in my mouth.

“Oh yes, yes, please” I replied in short breathless mumbles as he inserted it in my mouth and I sucked.

Yep. The surgery was soooo hot!

I now have hopes that my face will go back the way it was two and a half years ago, before all this mess. Or that the pain will go away at least. I know that the Bell’s Palsy has affected my left side which never fully recovered, but I’m okay with that now, really. I’m ok with my face not being symmetrical now.

My face looks good as new. And it’s been less than a week! It still hurts, but surprisingly this pain is much, much more tolerable than the pain I had with the plate BEFORE the surgery (this second operation, not the first).

I know it will heal this time because there’s no broken bone, no obstruction, no metal sticking out the skin to prevent the wound from closing properly.

I just have hope.

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Hope is the thing with feathers,

That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all.
~Emily Dickinson

Sometime in early summer when my bro, V, and I became friends again, he said to me, “P, I want you to listen to this chick. I think you’ll like her. She a bit off, like you. I know you like that kind of shit.”

He took me over to his computer and showed me a Lana del Rey video, “Born to Die”. I wasn’t very impressed, but I nodded my head and said, “yeah, yeah, she sounds good. Not bad.”

Turns out I’m really diggin’ her now. Not nose deep diggin’, just knee-high diggin’, ya dig?

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Yeah, I admit that I like her music ok! There I said it. She’d probably be a cool chick to hang out with too. Yeah, sometimes she sounds like she’s having a seizure when she sings live, but I honestly think she’s just, you know, off. And I kind of like that. She’s not all jumping up and down the stage singing about partying. I think she has a pretty powerful voice actually; she just doesn’t control it well when she’s up in front of the mic live. I mean, shit, I’d probably sing like a dying baby goat if I went up in front of a stage. And I sing fairly good, mind you–good as in mediocre and taking into account my halfway deafness. ha.

Anyway, I was listening to her the other night, ON MY NEW-OLD phone that my bro’s sweet girlfriend gave me! Yep, I now have a smartphone! BOOYAH!

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“Ride” is one of the songs that really got me liking this Lana girl—obviously a pseudo name ’cause girl is whiter than YouTube sensation Krispi Kreme. Lana is a beauty. In this song, she expresses some of the core “borderline” characteristics. And I mean the version that’s in this video specifically when she says, “mama said I always had a chameleon soul” and “no fixed personality”. Also the whole being a poet thing and “to seek safety in other people” really rings with me. I mean she’s running around with a whole bunch of older men.

This seems a bit pretentious, but it is good nonetheless. I have good taste so it’s GOOD CAUSE I SAY IT IS DAMMIT. I kid. Whatever never mind.

Note: The direction/cinematography/editing of the video is pretty damn good too!

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Oh right the surgery?! The surgery went splendidly. I no longer have a metal rod stuck in my jaw, poking out on the back of my mouth. YAY! I’m in pain now and a bit high on Norco and don’t want to take more ’cause I know how quickly I can get out of hand– being impulsive and all, so I’ll go on the sewing machine for a bit.

Mouse love (the PLDs are off on vacation but they send their love too).

JAW(S)urgery! AAAAAAaah

November 11, 2012

Insert Jaws theme song.

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I find it funny (in a dark kind of way) that a few months ago I tried to snuff myself. Today that seems remote. BUT… I’m having surgery tomorrow. It’s one of those, “oh, I’ll make a long blog post about it some day” but then never get to it kind of things.

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I think I’m going to die, not because of the surgery, but rather because I fear my rage will exceed the capacity of my heart and I will thus have a cardiac arrest, or an aneurysm or some kind of… Ugh, I will not indulge these thoughts.

Tomorrow, a plate will be removed from my lower jaw. It has five screws. See.

****

my jaw

Yep, that’s my jaw. See the plate on the left (your right) lower mandible? It has five fuckin’ screws. See them? And see my nose ring!?

This is partly the reason why I’ve been having so much pain in my face/jaw for the last two years. That and the nerve damage ’cause by the procedure, oh and the fact that it is still sticking out in the back of my throat–they didn’t seal it properly. Yep. Also, I had the worst episode of Bell’s Palsy on that side.

Turns out that when I –it’s a long story. Trust me, I’ll get to it someday, a day that is not today.

Turns out that when I had a cyst and the back-most molar tooth removed, my jaw was fractured. I have brittle bones/Osteogenesis or OI as I’ve mentioned before. They knew this but probably had no experience working on someone like me.

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It was supposed to be a simple day surgery. You know, minor operation, go home same day. But nope, I woke up in the ICU (intensive care unit). And I woke up looking like THIS GUY:

Alright, I didn’t look EXACTLY like ‘ole Sloth here, but I did look like his sister–if he had one. It sucked. My mouth was wired shut for four months. I had what they call “poor man’s braces” to keep the wires on and they tore at my gums. I only ate liquids and soups my dad made for me. I couldn’t look at my face in the mirror for nearly six months. And well, the pain. The pain. The pain.

Hopefully tomorrow much of this pain will be relieved once the damn titanium plate is out of my jaw.

I know you’re probably wondering, “But P, why didn’t you tell us before?!” And I know I’ve been neglecting this blog and your blogs, but that’s because so many things are changing. It is what it is. This blog has meant so much to me and your support has kept me through this year.

I barely found out about the surgery on Thursday when I had my doc appointment (that’s when I took the photos above). I had hoped to schedule it ASAP but I didn’t expect for them to schedule so soon. MONDAY! I’ve put this off long enough though and I’m going through with it!

My therapist Brunet Young has helped me prepare for this. I had a panic attack on Thursday and earlier today but I’m good now. And I’ll most def’ appreciate the support!

Oh and my family was such a HUGE support today. Bro came with his girlfriend and we watched Children of Men (one of Monkey Man’s favorite films). Bro’s girlfriend, N, brought me donuts and some soft slippers! So that has eased much of the anxiety. That and the fact that I took a Clonazepam and Tramadol earlier.

I gotta be up at 5am. Night.

Mouse Love

I’ve been going to the university a lot this week. For one, I go to therapy there. It’s cheap and I don’t have insurance. Two, I’m still dealing with the immigration issue and the law center has law students that help you out. It’s free.

I’ve been taking a few pictures around campus. It’s made me a little nostalgic.  I miss school, miss schoolin’. I almost feel like a student again with all my creepin’ and crawlin’ around campus these days. And I’m still working on my stealth. It’s a bit difficult with the wheelchair getting in the way. I also need to take my telephoto lens next time! It would have made the pictures better had I had it with me. I’ll get better shots next time. It’s just a bit of a pain switching lenses, especially because the telephoto lens is nearly one-third my full body size.

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I’ll post the other set later… Mouse must go swim!

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addendum: The waffle bus and Bernie’s Burger Bus are a fuckin’ rip off! Don’t buy their burgers. (I never did, just sayin’)

Wings for Angel

October 10, 2012

TA DA!

Happy birthday Angel!

Yeah, these are ruffled wings for you. They’re supposed to be “dark” wings and a little abstract. I’m not sure I pulled it off how I wanted. I was listening to one of my favorite bands so I think the music influenced the result. Also, I’d just read one of your posts earlier today. I think I’m floating naked and farting out my signature while I present these wings to you!

xoxoxxx

******

p.s. Please excuse the messiness.

I’ve been feeling rather dizzy lately, albeit “stable”. When I say life’s been better these days, I’m talking about stability–emotional and mental stability. I’ve cried a few times in the last three/four weeks, but it hasn’t been a gut wrenching, shake inducing phenomenon followed by an all-encompassing emptiness and urge to die. In other words, I’m not laughing and jumping ups and down and then wanting to jab a knife into my neck. I want to live! I want life!

A few good things are happening too. Good is such a relative word. But anyway, other than having blogger’s block, I’m keeping busy. Therapy, swimmin’, washing dishes, cleaning up, reading, immigration paperwork, rolling around with Luna, trying to keep her from rolling around on her own poo and then licking me. Shit like that.

This past week was really nice. I mean nice. Just “happy days” where I don’t give a damn about the bullshit in my life, in life. I wasn’t particularly happy about one thing, except for maybe the fact that the immigration situation, the work permit, is becoming a reality despite the hold-ups. (Yeah, I’ll mention those later as I always say I’ll do).

All I have to say is this and you can stop reading the rest of my nonsense:

Fool, I’m feelin’ fresh like fuckin’ Fonzie here! On the plus size, I also feel aaaaaliiiiiive. I’m mostly high on life; not just merely existing.

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I’ve had one of those weeks where I can laugh at humanity and not be too cynical about it. “Child,” I tell myself, “these are happy days aren’t they?” Yes, yes yes. the Mouse nods in agreement. I have to. This year has been hell–like much of my other twenty-six years– and I’ve finally driven out of hell, or so it seems. I’m always a bit suspicious though. I suppose what matters is that I am presently feeling pleasant, feeling calm. I’m ok.

My mood has just been too good to be true. And I’m not even on drugs… wait, I kinda am. But anyway.

And we all have our quirks, our little weird secrets (though some more than others). Don’t we?

What the hell do I mean? People are strange. That’s what I’m sayin’.

A strange week with (MOSTLY) good feeling. Let me start with Monday–this is last Monday, October first.

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The Monday Mentals

Monday began, and as usual, I went to the gym where my mom works to do my daily swim. I’ve been keeping track of how many laps I do. I told the therapist this and she said it’s a great idea to look back on my progress. Chronic pain gets in the way of this sometimes, but anyway. I’d planned on doing some blogging after my swim only I had the bloggin’ block going on in my head. And like Sara Draws says, I think I’m getting the “brain rot”. (Back on Lamotrigine after a week off of it).

I just can’t seem to sketch or play the ukulele or write, except for now. I’m writing now, ain’t I? I don’t know.

My brother and I are building our relationship again, after a major fight involving him saying he wanted me out of his life because of something impulsive I did. I’m glad we’re talking again. And we’re not just talking; we’re “friends” again. He’s been calling me up every couple of days or so and asking if I want him to pick me up to go over his apartment.

Ever since Monkey Man’s death, he’s been there for me, more or less. That’s what I love about my family. Things get crazy between us sometime, like when mama busted my brother’s nose throwing a phone at him (not a cellphone) and then he…or when I… ugh.. I’ll leave the rest for a private post. But what I’m saying is my family is here for me. And I realize that now. I always have, it’s just the depression gets in the way of these things–of FEELING the good things around you. Of feeling the love of those in your life. Of truly absorbing life, takin’ each breath and feeling the oxygen fill your lungs, pumping through your cells, in your blood, in your veins and fueling the engine that is your heart.

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My brother called me Monday and asked if I’d come over. I said sure, since I’m working on being a little more open. Once we settled in his apartment, we started watching Alien, the original 1979 version. All was good until he asked me to try some wine he’d bought. Well, I said to myself “P, you don’t get a chance to drink fine wine often. You’re doing well. Just half a glass.”

“Only half a glass,” the Mouse whispered. But…Half a glass turned into nearly three-fourths of the bottle and I got drunk. Really drunk. I was still fine though, just enjoying myself. It was a surprise, actually, to feel “happy drunk” because usually I become a somewhat psychotic and “angry drunk” or a very depressed drunk.

My bro went off to bed because he had to work early in the morning and I sat there on the floor with my wine, clicking around Netflix until I saw MAD MAX 2: THE ROAD WARRIOR!  Mel Gibson was still a young, sexy actor who wasn’t as misogynistic as he is now. But then again, I don’t know for sure. Shit, I digress.

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So I was watching Mad Max: Road Warrior with Mel Gibson, getting drunker, lickin’ every last drop. Then I got heavy-eyed and figured I’d go to bed. By then it was probably midnight and my brother was asleep. I went over to my brother’s spare room and then to the restroom to brush my teeth, and that’s when I decide to start reading some blogs instead of curling up on the futon. Around this time is when the mentals hit me like a spear to the spine.

I was reading one of my favorite poet-bloggies and she had a link to this music duo. I dug it, so I looked ’em up on YouTube. I found THISIt’s the duo singing a cover of Elliott Smith’s “Between the Bars”. This here–this song, Between the Bars— is a song that has an intense affect on me. I was learning how to play it on the uke back in December before I headed to Florida; before I got facial paralysis; before I became increasingly depressed; before I broke my arm; but most importantly, before Monkey Man died. And if you guys have read about what happened to Monkey Man, all those depressing posts I wrote about him… yeah. It’s been six months already!

A song that was once dedicated to Monkey Man–that now rings truer than it did in December–turned on the PLDs and maybe some of the borderline in me came out. I immediately snapped and picked a paperclip from  my brother’s desk. You can imagine what happened next. But the paperclip wasn’t good enough, so I ended up in the kitchen with a bloody knife and a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey. I don’t remember much after cleaning up the sink except I wrapped my arm in toilet paper and went to bed (the futon) crying.

Here’s the strange part. The next day, I was fine again. I had to keep my arm from sight when my dad picked me up, but otherwise, I was back to my cheery self.

I found a sketch of a monkey with a guitar that I drewcbefore running into the song and it’s terribly cute. Just above the crooked ears I must’ve drunkenly scribbled. It reads: T.H.L 1984-2012

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Wonderful Wednesday

Tuesday. I’m not gonna bother recapping Tuesday since it was just a chill day, apart from swimming fourteen laps and hiding a still-bleeding gash on my T-Rex-Duck arm.

Wednesday… Wednesday was wonderful. There’s a happy day.

My friend Sandy came over with her little three-year old boy. I hadn’t seen them in months. I had finished ten laps earlier that day and was feeling like things really are turning up. So Sandy came by with sushi which we ate. We then watched a kiddie movie and talked. I think we were more into the movie than her boy. She’s very different from me, Sandy, but despite that, we get along pretty well.

Sometimes I can only get so much of her though, but I’ve been pretty social lately, so my anxiety about people is subdued a bit and my patience has grown a bit. I’m still a very anxious person; I’m still having lots of anxiety, but as long as I’m not having panic attacks, as long as it’s not crippling I think it’s manageable. I’m good to go.

After she left, B came by and we talked. Here’s where Sandy and B differ. B and I can have very deep conversations: we’re like-minded. He’s a very intelligent fella and he gets my sick sense of humor which is always a plus in a friendship (for me at least).

That was Wednesday. Nice, peaceful and full of camaraderie.

Attention!

September 17, 2012

Standing at attention
trembling
little
soldier
waiting for his order.

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Haven’t been inspired with the poetic muse lately. But I woke up with this one in my head and had to jot it down. I think it was inspired by Kyle Mew.