It creeps up ever so slowly, ever so quietly, waiting for the right moment to strike. Moments of loneliness, moments of self-reflection, moments when one has nothing but their own thoughts to occupy them. It waits in the deepest and darkest of corners, crouched and ready for attack, preying on the vulnerable and the naive.
It's grief.
I didn't think I'd feel quite as sad going through this whole ordeal given my thoughts on not being able to support a child and needing to get my life together first. But I've got an unshakeable lump in the back of my throat and a nauseated feeling in the bottom of my stomach, and I feel the tears just waiting behind my eyelids.
Everyone's told me to think of it as God's will and to be glad I didn't have to make the decision on my own. which I've adopted as my belief. Or at least, tried to. It's easy to make myself believe that that's the truth, especially when heard from those who have been through what I've been through and knowing how they reacted.
But this loss is...traumatic, in a way. I was 8 weeks along, and in that time I went through a lot of sickness and call-offs and ginger ale and peanut butter crackers and extra sharp cheddar cheese and running through the city for the *right* dill pickle. I gave up my ability to wear heels because they made me lightheaded. And though I was sick often, I kind of liked the idea of having a child.
See, I don't think there's a certain age people should wait until to get pregnant. If you're self-sufficient and able to take care of yourself, and you're responsible, then go ahead and have a child. The time is different for everybody, I just know that at this point in my life I'm not responsible or self-sufficient enough for one. Which could be why God took it away from me.
And I know I should be reasonable about everything and just be glad I'm still alive and didn't bleed to death or any other complication from the incomplete abortion or the surgery. But there's something inside of me that still wants to ball up and cry. A part of me still feels terrible over this loss, and I just don't know how to get over that pain.
Luckily, I've got a lot of support from my family and friends, so I don't have the feeling I had when I first found out that I was going through it alone. And I know when it is my time to have children, I'll be healthier and they'll (hopefully) be healthy and I won't have to feel any guilt when I announce the news nor will I feel the need to hide it from anyone.
I just want this new pain to go away...
Monday, June 29, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Live From Room 1005 (Updated)
*Sigh*
I thought after my last hospital episode I was done with the whole hospital scene...
Okay, that's not completely true, and I didn't tell you guys the whole story.
See, I went into Cook County for shortness of breath...came out with an infection...and (dare I say it) pregnant.
Yes, yes, you read right. Straight up, lightheaded*morning sickness*headaches*weird cravings* excessive fatigue preggo.
I didn't intend on keeping it, but after a week passed I got attached to the little thing. It was certainly attached to me, sucking all my energy and making me sick...or so I thought.
See, you're not supposed to bleed AND have cramps while you're pregnant. One or the other is fine, but both is a bad sign. So off Jay rushed me to the hospital again, this time to Saint Mary.
After laying 5 hours with needles and ultrasounds and speculums and all other tests, I found out that I was miscarrying because it wasn't developing properly...to be completely technical, it wasn't developing at all. I didn't even know something like that could happen.
So here I am, blogging to you live from my hospital bed with an IV in one arm and a bandaid from a recent blood test on the other. My cramps are getting progressively worse today and I'm hoping the doctor comes in soon so we can alleviate this pain.
As far as emotionally...I'm holding up ok, not the best but I'm not in pieces either. Though the original plan hadn't been to keep it, I didn't expect it to happen this way. I guess it's better my body is doing it naturally, but I still wasn't quite prepared for it.
And once again, Jay stayed with me *almost* the entire time; I sent him home around 5 this morning to get some sleep and do some other errands because I felt so bad for him sitting in the chair next to my hospital bed, unable to sleep or get comfortable. It didn't help that the first time he finally agreed to leave I almost started crying (really couldn't help it; even though I didn't want him sitting in that chair I didn't want to be alone in the hospital room ), so another 30 minute disagreement ensued until I finally fell asleep and he awoke me just to say goodbye and made me go back to sleep promptly. And even when I texted him a little while ago he was still apologizing for leaving my side. But that wasn't even the kicker. The kicker was the care he took in making sure I had food when I got to my room, going home just to get entertainment for us for the night, bringing me something to change into and all my favorite foods and drinks (though after midnight I wasn't allowed to eat anything else), combing my hair when I had the IV, and snapping me back to reality when the cramps had tears streaming down my face and I was ready to break down.
I don't know how I would have made it through all of this without him.
**********************
I had to stop my story here to impart a very important message and lesson I've learned to all my fellow bloggers out there or anyone who stumbles upon this blog: follow your intuition.
That seems like such a "common sense" thing to do, but as you know, this blog is aptly named for this reason: you'd be surprised how many people ignore their intuition and end up getting into trouble later.
I say this because when I first started bleeding, everyone but my store manager thought it was no big deal. Everyone said "don't worry, it's perfectly normal, women still go through it during their pregnancy, you're okay".
I haven't gone through it since April. You can't tell me its normal to skip two months then all of a sudden start back again...something's not right with that picture.
However, I do tend to exaggerate my symptoms (a simple headache can turn into a brain tumor if you'll let me think about it long enough) so I decided to chill out, do a little Googling, and see what happens.
Well, we see what happened.
Listen to your intuition because it knows better than anybody else. Only YOU know what you're feeling and what's going on in your body. If something doesn't feel right, question it. Get to the bottom of it, and then you can move on. Don't let everyone else try to quell what your body is trying to tell you.
We're given intuition for a reason. All we've got to do is listen to it.
----------------------
New Events:
When I told ya'll the story earlier, it was a little after 7 in the morning. As the hours ticked passed, I started having the WORST cramps of my life...come to find out, they were really contractions. So basically I was in labor for 9 hours, getting these horrible tear evoking contraction/cramps every 6-7 minutes.
Pregnant women can imagine. Let me tell you this: if babysitting or fear of AIDS wasn't a good enough method of birth control, those contractions sure were. It was the absolute worst pain I've ever felt. I'm not looking forward to feeling that pain again any time soon.
At around 4 the gynecologist finally came in (they'd been promising her arrival since 6 in the morning) and it was time for my D&C. I wasn't looking forward to it, but I needed those cramps to go away and this was it.
The anesthesia was da bomb...I wonder if they'll let me take a little home with me. The anesthesiologist said "you're going to sleep" and two seconds later I was OUT. I woke up high as hell in the recovery room. Then the nurse pumped me full of morphine and anti-nausea drugs. I'm telling you, it's the first time I've felt relief since yesterday morning and it feels amazing.
I'm due to finally leave here sometime between 9 and 10, provided all my vitals are fine. If not, I'll be out of here tomorrow morning. Which is fine with me.
As usual, I'll keep you all posted.
I thought after my last hospital episode I was done with the whole hospital scene...
Okay, that's not completely true, and I didn't tell you guys the whole story.
See, I went into Cook County for shortness of breath...came out with an infection...and (dare I say it) pregnant.
Yes, yes, you read right. Straight up, lightheaded*morning sickness*headaches*weird cravings* excessive fatigue preggo.
I didn't intend on keeping it, but after a week passed I got attached to the little thing. It was certainly attached to me, sucking all my energy and making me sick...or so I thought.
See, you're not supposed to bleed AND have cramps while you're pregnant. One or the other is fine, but both is a bad sign. So off Jay rushed me to the hospital again, this time to Saint Mary.
After laying 5 hours with needles and ultrasounds and speculums and all other tests, I found out that I was miscarrying because it wasn't developing properly...to be completely technical, it wasn't developing at all. I didn't even know something like that could happen.
So here I am, blogging to you live from my hospital bed with an IV in one arm and a bandaid from a recent blood test on the other. My cramps are getting progressively worse today and I'm hoping the doctor comes in soon so we can alleviate this pain.
As far as emotionally...I'm holding up ok, not the best but I'm not in pieces either. Though the original plan hadn't been to keep it, I didn't expect it to happen this way. I guess it's better my body is doing it naturally, but I still wasn't quite prepared for it.
And once again, Jay stayed with me *almost* the entire time; I sent him home around 5 this morning to get some sleep and do some other errands because I felt so bad for him sitting in the chair next to my hospital bed, unable to sleep or get comfortable. It didn't help that the first time he finally agreed to leave I almost started crying (really couldn't help it; even though I didn't want him sitting in that chair I didn't want to be alone in the hospital room ), so another 30 minute disagreement ensued until I finally fell asleep and he awoke me just to say goodbye and made me go back to sleep promptly. And even when I texted him a little while ago he was still apologizing for leaving my side. But that wasn't even the kicker. The kicker was the care he took in making sure I had food when I got to my room, going home just to get entertainment for us for the night, bringing me something to change into and all my favorite foods and drinks (though after midnight I wasn't allowed to eat anything else), combing my hair when I had the IV, and snapping me back to reality when the cramps had tears streaming down my face and I was ready to break down.
I don't know how I would have made it through all of this without him.
**********************
I had to stop my story here to impart a very important message and lesson I've learned to all my fellow bloggers out there or anyone who stumbles upon this blog: follow your intuition.
That seems like such a "common sense" thing to do, but as you know, this blog is aptly named for this reason: you'd be surprised how many people ignore their intuition and end up getting into trouble later.
I say this because when I first started bleeding, everyone but my store manager thought it was no big deal. Everyone said "don't worry, it's perfectly normal, women still go through it during their pregnancy, you're okay".
I haven't gone through it since April. You can't tell me its normal to skip two months then all of a sudden start back again...something's not right with that picture.
However, I do tend to exaggerate my symptoms (a simple headache can turn into a brain tumor if you'll let me think about it long enough) so I decided to chill out, do a little Googling, and see what happens.
Well, we see what happened.
Listen to your intuition because it knows better than anybody else. Only YOU know what you're feeling and what's going on in your body. If something doesn't feel right, question it. Get to the bottom of it, and then you can move on. Don't let everyone else try to quell what your body is trying to tell you.
We're given intuition for a reason. All we've got to do is listen to it.
----------------------
New Events:
When I told ya'll the story earlier, it was a little after 7 in the morning. As the hours ticked passed, I started having the WORST cramps of my life...come to find out, they were really contractions. So basically I was in labor for 9 hours, getting these horrible tear evoking contraction/cramps every 6-7 minutes.
Pregnant women can imagine. Let me tell you this: if babysitting or fear of AIDS wasn't a good enough method of birth control, those contractions sure were. It was the absolute worst pain I've ever felt. I'm not looking forward to feeling that pain again any time soon.
At around 4 the gynecologist finally came in (they'd been promising her arrival since 6 in the morning) and it was time for my D&C. I wasn't looking forward to it, but I needed those cramps to go away and this was it.
The anesthesia was da bomb...I wonder if they'll let me take a little home with me. The anesthesiologist said "you're going to sleep" and two seconds later I was OUT. I woke up high as hell in the recovery room. Then the nurse pumped me full of morphine and anti-nausea drugs. I'm telling you, it's the first time I've felt relief since yesterday morning and it feels amazing.
I'm due to finally leave here sometime between 9 and 10, provided all my vitals are fine. If not, I'll be out of here tomorrow morning. Which is fine with me.
As usual, I'll keep you all posted.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Charlie's Angel/Thriller
Today, we lost two greats:
I'm not going to spend a lot of time going into details...all you have to do is tune into any major television station (except WCIU) and you'll get details on what happened. Farrah died of cancer, and Michael went into cardiac arrest.
My prayers go out to the families of Farrah and Michael.
You all will be missed.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Change of Plans
I'm about to start working out, changing my eating habits, and becoming healthy.
I know, I know. This is one of those things that's going to be REALLY easy to procrastinate with. I can already feel the potential excuses building up:
-I don't have any appropriate exercise shoes.
-I have asthma and I don't wanna collapse while trying to walk/jog/run.
-It's raining outside and all I wanna do is sit in the house eating flamin hots and watching South Park.
And other such random reasons for NOT working out.
But it's for a good cause. I'm in terrible health (even if my vital signs don't wanna prove it). I've had a headache almost every day for weeks. I'm tired. And I attribute it to my terrible eating habits and innate laziness. I might have a high metabolism but it doesn't mean I need to just eat junk food all day and sit around. That's not good for the body or soul.
I always say that if healthier food were available I'd eat it, but because healthy food isn't available I don't. So that's going to have to change too. I'm going to have to determine a healthy diet that's going to work for me, seeing as I'm not trying to lose weight but am just trying to be a healthy 120 lbs vs 120 lbs of fatty sugars and salt, which is about all I eat these days.
Don't get me wrong...I'm not cutting Oreos out of my life forever. But I notice that when I was a kid eating three meals a day every day (sans sweets other than every once in a GREAT while) and getting anywhere between 7-9 hours of sleep a night, I was much MUCH healthier and you could have even called me athletic. Those were the days when I climbed rock walls and ropes and could run a decent mile. But now that I'm averaging around 5 hours of sleep a night and one halfway decent meal a day, I can't do anything without running out of breath, getting lightheaded and tired, etc...
I gotta start drinking water, too, which is a bit of a problem only because I'm very particular about what kind of water I drink. I prefer tap to bottled water because I grew up drinking unfiltered Chicago tap water (arguably some of the most delicious water in the nation). Bottled water, with the exception of Fiji and Smart Water, always seems to taste processed and plasticky to me.
Aside from health reasons, I have another reason for wanting to get healthy: I am trying to become a Chicago Police Officer, with plans for promotion into the narcotics unit or some other interesting endeavor. I've been doing some research, and I'll need to get my bachelor's before I can apply which is okay seeing as I can (hopefully) knock that out in three years provided I stay on my grind and stop playing around. There's a psychological test, which I should be able to pass, a drug test, which I KNOW I'll be able to pass, and a physical fitness test, which I'd FAIL terribly if I took it right now. But I'm keeping my eye on that goal, and if I continue staying out of trouble for the next few years I can definitely do it.
Sidenote: I know I had been stuck on the business thing for a long time, and it was a toss-up between being a lawyer and being a businesswoman and all that. But I never knew specifically what I wanted to do. Being a police officer means I get to put my affinity for law and writing together with helping the community, protecting the good, and busting the bad guys. And...not gonna lie...I've got a little bit of "school girl" excitement over the thought of wearing a uniform that everyone's got to respect with a bad ass gun on my hip. I'll have to get in touch with my friend in the NRA to figure out what gun I'm gonna replace my police issue with. But that's a whole different topic.
So that's my goal. It's gonna be HARD. And I know there's gonna be a lot of bumps and falls along the way. But I'm excited and amped and ready to get the ball rolling. Let's just hope that this time I can KEEP this resolve.
I know, I know. This is one of those things that's going to be REALLY easy to procrastinate with. I can already feel the potential excuses building up:
-I don't have any appropriate exercise shoes.
-I have asthma and I don't wanna collapse while trying to walk/jog/run.
-It's raining outside and all I wanna do is sit in the house eating flamin hots and watching South Park.
And other such random reasons for NOT working out.
But it's for a good cause. I'm in terrible health (even if my vital signs don't wanna prove it). I've had a headache almost every day for weeks. I'm tired. And I attribute it to my terrible eating habits and innate laziness. I might have a high metabolism but it doesn't mean I need to just eat junk food all day and sit around. That's not good for the body or soul.
I always say that if healthier food were available I'd eat it, but because healthy food isn't available I don't. So that's going to have to change too. I'm going to have to determine a healthy diet that's going to work for me, seeing as I'm not trying to lose weight but am just trying to be a healthy 120 lbs vs 120 lbs of fatty sugars and salt, which is about all I eat these days.
Don't get me wrong...I'm not cutting Oreos out of my life forever. But I notice that when I was a kid eating three meals a day every day (sans sweets other than every once in a GREAT while) and getting anywhere between 7-9 hours of sleep a night, I was much MUCH healthier and you could have even called me athletic. Those were the days when I climbed rock walls and ropes and could run a decent mile. But now that I'm averaging around 5 hours of sleep a night and one halfway decent meal a day, I can't do anything without running out of breath, getting lightheaded and tired, etc...
I gotta start drinking water, too, which is a bit of a problem only because I'm very particular about what kind of water I drink. I prefer tap to bottled water because I grew up drinking unfiltered Chicago tap water (arguably some of the most delicious water in the nation). Bottled water, with the exception of Fiji and Smart Water, always seems to taste processed and plasticky to me.
Aside from health reasons, I have another reason for wanting to get healthy: I am trying to become a Chicago Police Officer, with plans for promotion into the narcotics unit or some other interesting endeavor. I've been doing some research, and I'll need to get my bachelor's before I can apply which is okay seeing as I can (hopefully) knock that out in three years provided I stay on my grind and stop playing around. There's a psychological test, which I should be able to pass, a drug test, which I KNOW I'll be able to pass, and a physical fitness test, which I'd FAIL terribly if I took it right now. But I'm keeping my eye on that goal, and if I continue staying out of trouble for the next few years I can definitely do it.
Sidenote: I know I had been stuck on the business thing for a long time, and it was a toss-up between being a lawyer and being a businesswoman and all that. But I never knew specifically what I wanted to do. Being a police officer means I get to put my affinity for law and writing together with helping the community, protecting the good, and busting the bad guys. And...not gonna lie...I've got a little bit of "school girl" excitement over the thought of wearing a uniform that everyone's got to respect with a bad ass gun on my hip. I'll have to get in touch with my friend in the NRA to figure out what gun I'm gonna replace my police issue with. But that's a whole different topic.
So that's my goal. It's gonna be HARD. And I know there's gonna be a lot of bumps and falls along the way. But I'm excited and amped and ready to get the ball rolling. Let's just hope that this time I can KEEP this resolve.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Just A Question...
What is happiness?
Is it a fleeting emotion, like anger or sadness? Something we can only enjoy in the moment as it's happening and then watch it float away just as quickly as it appeared? Or is it more long term?
If we're talking happiness in terms of daily pleasures (spending time with a significant other, feeling instant gratification from a job, buying things to make you happy), then I'm a very happy, fulfilled person. My day to day life goes just fine. I have fun with the people around me, get the chance to spend a lot of time with the person I love, I have a good time at work and with customers, and because of that job I'm able to buy (some) things I want or need.
But if we're talking long term happiness, as in long term career fulfillment or feeling like you've found that niche, I'm completely down and out on that one. I haven't quite found my slot in life, though I think I'm starting to get close. I actually finally have a career goal in mind (as in this is the exact position I'd like to hold, this is what I need to get there, and this is where I want to go after that), and it's already made a huge difference. But the fight is far from over.
I've had a lot of time to myself today to think and reflect, something I haven't done in quite some time. And in a little bit I'm actually going to write everything down on paper. It may help, it may not, but it's worth a try and if I can get some kind of validation from doing it then I guess it's worth it. It's a start, though, and I can't possibly lose anything through the effort.
I'll be keeping everyone posted.
Is it a fleeting emotion, like anger or sadness? Something we can only enjoy in the moment as it's happening and then watch it float away just as quickly as it appeared? Or is it more long term?
If we're talking happiness in terms of daily pleasures (spending time with a significant other, feeling instant gratification from a job, buying things to make you happy), then I'm a very happy, fulfilled person. My day to day life goes just fine. I have fun with the people around me, get the chance to spend a lot of time with the person I love, I have a good time at work and with customers, and because of that job I'm able to buy (some) things I want or need.
But if we're talking long term happiness, as in long term career fulfillment or feeling like you've found that niche, I'm completely down and out on that one. I haven't quite found my slot in life, though I think I'm starting to get close. I actually finally have a career goal in mind (as in this is the exact position I'd like to hold, this is what I need to get there, and this is where I want to go after that), and it's already made a huge difference. But the fight is far from over.
I've had a lot of time to myself today to think and reflect, something I haven't done in quite some time. And in a little bit I'm actually going to write everything down on paper. It may help, it may not, but it's worth a try and if I can get some kind of validation from doing it then I guess it's worth it. It's a start, though, and I can't possibly lose anything through the effort.
I'll be keeping everyone posted.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Shooting at the Museum
Freedom of speech is probably one of our most treasured (and consequently most abused) rights.
It's nice to live in a country where we're *supposed* to be able to believe whatever we want to believe and think whatever we want to think without interference from others or the government.
If only it were that simple.
The recent shooting in the Holocaust Museum in DC is a terrible reminder of the lack of respect, dignity, and honor some Americans seem to have. The whole point of us having freedom of thought and speech is to prevent persecution from others, and yet what do we have here? Some old ass idiot white supremacist who decided that the Holocaust wasn't horrifying enough and decides to go shooting up a museum.
What was he trying to prove? What point was he trying to get across to his audience? What statement was he trying to make? Because from what I can see, all he was able to prove to us is that he's a bigoted fool. It's just his own little "end of life" stunt that he decided to pull, an item on his twisted and insane bucket list.
To the press: Don't mention his name. Don't let anyone know who he is. If you do, you'll generate just the kind of press and attention he wanted to create. Punish him as you wish: send him to prison, let the Texans put him to death, set him out in front of a Mexican firing squad for all I really care. Hell, you can blindfold the bastard and make him cross the freeway Frogger-style. But don't mention his identity. He doesn't DESERVE the public's knowledge or acknowledgement of who he is. His name doesn't deserve to fall out of not one person's lips. To acknowledge HIM is to give him the justification he was looking for. I don't know about anybody else, but I'm not a huge fan of doing that. I say let the man wither through the rest of his existence in jail knowing everyone knows what he did but no one knows his name. Let him deal with the fact that his "valiant" effort to promote his own beliefs and his move to prove a point did NOTHING and that we as a nation won't give him the satisfaction of enjoying infamy.
What the hell is wrong with people these days?
It's nice to live in a country where we're *supposed* to be able to believe whatever we want to believe and think whatever we want to think without interference from others or the government.
If only it were that simple.
The recent shooting in the Holocaust Museum in DC is a terrible reminder of the lack of respect, dignity, and honor some Americans seem to have. The whole point of us having freedom of thought and speech is to prevent persecution from others, and yet what do we have here? Some old ass idiot white supremacist who decided that the Holocaust wasn't horrifying enough and decides to go shooting up a museum.
What was he trying to prove? What point was he trying to get across to his audience? What statement was he trying to make? Because from what I can see, all he was able to prove to us is that he's a bigoted fool. It's just his own little "end of life" stunt that he decided to pull, an item on his twisted and insane bucket list.
To the press: Don't mention his name. Don't let anyone know who he is. If you do, you'll generate just the kind of press and attention he wanted to create. Punish him as you wish: send him to prison, let the Texans put him to death, set him out in front of a Mexican firing squad for all I really care. Hell, you can blindfold the bastard and make him cross the freeway Frogger-style. But don't mention his identity. He doesn't DESERVE the public's knowledge or acknowledgement of who he is. His name doesn't deserve to fall out of not one person's lips. To acknowledge HIM is to give him the justification he was looking for. I don't know about anybody else, but I'm not a huge fan of doing that. I say let the man wither through the rest of his existence in jail knowing everyone knows what he did but no one knows his name. Let him deal with the fact that his "valiant" effort to promote his own beliefs and his move to prove a point did NOTHING and that we as a nation won't give him the satisfaction of enjoying infamy.
What the hell is wrong with people these days?
Monday, June 8, 2009
Cinco De Mayos
I officially bought my first pair of Jordans a few days ago.
I know I'm about a month late with the whole Cinco de Mayo thing (seeing as that WAS in May) but the shoes are still hot.
I had never purchased Jordans before because when I was younger I tried getting some and they didn't fit properly, and I was discouraged from ever owning them. I wouldn't say I'm obsessed now, because I'm still a bit of an Air Force One/Chuck Taylor girl myself, but these don't look quite as basketball-ish as some of the other ones do.
Only problem is, I don't have enough red and green in my wardrobe to justify those colors, but whatever. I'll work it out.
----------
I went to Jay's house after work yesterday and when I got there he confined me to the living room where he had ordered my favorite type of pizza [pepperoni] and bought my favorite pop [Sierra Mist], but he wouldn't let me go in his room.
After we ate, he turned all the lights out in the house, took my glasses off, covered my eyes, and led me into his room.
My jaw dropped.
He had hung scented tea lights all over the wall which gave off the most perfect amber glow. He had changed his comforter to a fancy gold one (we're talking 5-star hotel quality) and had put these pretty red, gold, and white pillowcases on all these pillows. And there were all these rose petals spread in the middle of the bed. It looked like something you only get to read about in romance novels or see on tv but never get to experience in real life.
On top of all that, he gave me the most wonderful back, leg, and foot massage with aromatherapy massage oil.
I needed that last night more than ever. My back was hurting from all the shoe moving I was doing at work, I was sleepy, and actually a little cranky. Plus it was starting to storm when I got off work so I was a little nervous too. But he made all of that go away and it was the most wonderful thing I've ever experienced.
What's the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for you?
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Lost
Ya'll know I often have a favorite song of the week...a theme song, if you will.
When I first heard this song, I had no idea it was Gorilla Zoe (remember him from that horrid "Hood Nigga"?). It sounded a little too chill for that. But it's a pretty flame song. It's a little depressing if you listen to the lyrics, but again the beat is real chill and Lil Wayne adds fire to the track.
Enjoy!
When I first heard this song, I had no idea it was Gorilla Zoe (remember him from that horrid "Hood Nigga"?). It sounded a little too chill for that. But it's a pretty flame song. It's a little depressing if you listen to the lyrics, but again the beat is real chill and Lil Wayne adds fire to the track.
Enjoy!
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Long Night
What a trooper.
I've been suffering from shortness of breath lately and have been feeling a generalized sense of sickness even though nothing in particular seemed wrong. So when last night I started breathing hard out of nowhere, Jay decided to take me to the hospital. Now, I've mentioned before somewhere that Cook County is where you go to die. But that's where I ended up going because that's the place for people who don't have insurance.
When we first got there they sent me to a special room for asthmatics since I had the shortness of breath. But the doctor became slightly stumped when he found out I was short of breath but that all my vitals were fine and I wasn't wheezing or congested. So he decided to take a urinalysis. And we found out I have an infection (goddammit). They pulled some blood samples and when they did I had a FIT and started hyperventilating and shaking. I probably scared the crap out of that poor nurse. Then they moved me onto a random bed in a hallway and hooked me up to an IV with saline solution to try to stop the shortness of breath. I kept asking for Jay so my nurse personally went out into the waiting room and got him, which was around 3:00 am. He stayed by my side until after 11:00 this morning, even through the continous IV treatments, blood sugar tests, and chest x-rays.
That's why I said what a trooper. Poor guy had been up early yesterday, up all day, didn't get any sleep last night due to my tossing and turning and lack of air, stayed up in the hospital til this morning fully awake refusing to leave my side even though I kept telling him to go take a nap AND even though he almost got kicked out for not having a visitor pass. And even after we finally left the hospital he refused to go home but instead took me to IHOP just because I mentioned having a taste for pancakes.
I'm doing a little better now but I've still got this generalized laziness and fatigue that lasted since yesterday morning, plus a nagging consistent headache. I gotta go back tomorrow to get my medicine (vitamins, antibiotics, and albuterol for the asthma) and luckily I don't work again until Saturday so hopefully by then I'll be feeling a little better.
I just found it so odd that I came into the hospital expecting to get a puff or two of an inhaler and being able to go right back home and ended up finding out I have an infection that's causing me to feel bad and would have only gotten worse had they not found it.
Modern medicine is amazing.
I've been suffering from shortness of breath lately and have been feeling a generalized sense of sickness even though nothing in particular seemed wrong. So when last night I started breathing hard out of nowhere, Jay decided to take me to the hospital. Now, I've mentioned before somewhere that Cook County is where you go to die. But that's where I ended up going because that's the place for people who don't have insurance.
When we first got there they sent me to a special room for asthmatics since I had the shortness of breath. But the doctor became slightly stumped when he found out I was short of breath but that all my vitals were fine and I wasn't wheezing or congested. So he decided to take a urinalysis. And we found out I have an infection (goddammit). They pulled some blood samples and when they did I had a FIT and started hyperventilating and shaking. I probably scared the crap out of that poor nurse. Then they moved me onto a random bed in a hallway and hooked me up to an IV with saline solution to try to stop the shortness of breath. I kept asking for Jay so my nurse personally went out into the waiting room and got him, which was around 3:00 am. He stayed by my side until after 11:00 this morning, even through the continous IV treatments, blood sugar tests, and chest x-rays.
That's why I said what a trooper. Poor guy had been up early yesterday, up all day, didn't get any sleep last night due to my tossing and turning and lack of air, stayed up in the hospital til this morning fully awake refusing to leave my side even though I kept telling him to go take a nap AND even though he almost got kicked out for not having a visitor pass. And even after we finally left the hospital he refused to go home but instead took me to IHOP just because I mentioned having a taste for pancakes.
I'm doing a little better now but I've still got this generalized laziness and fatigue that lasted since yesterday morning, plus a nagging consistent headache. I gotta go back tomorrow to get my medicine (vitamins, antibiotics, and albuterol for the asthma) and luckily I don't work again until Saturday so hopefully by then I'll be feeling a little better.
I just found it so odd that I came into the hospital expecting to get a puff or two of an inhaler and being able to go right back home and ended up finding out I have an infection that's causing me to feel bad and would have only gotten worse had they not found it.
Modern medicine is amazing.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Stay In Your Lane
I almost had a nigga moment last night, ya'll.
For those of you not familiar with the Boondocks or the concept of a "nigga moment", it's basically when ignorance overpowers the mind of an otherwise logical black (wo)man, causing them to act like a "nigga".
I say "almost" because I managed to hold on to just a little logic. But last night was no joke.
Jay and I went bowling last night. The problem was that the group of people in the lane next to us have no bowling etiquette whatsoever. Now, had they been little teenagers or something with no obvious bowling skills to speak of, I wouldn't have been so bothered because, well, I'd charge it to them never having really played the game before and so not knowing. These people were grown ass MEN who obviously had a little skill to them.
So I couldn't understand why they were all up in MY lane when they weren't even bowling, why they had to walk in front of us when they were bowling, and why they didn't have the common courtesy to wait for the person next to them to bowl before running up to the foul line and heaving their ball down the lane.
I wasn't so pissed the first time some idiot decided to wait until I was lining up my shot to just run up from left field and take his shot instead, fucking with my peripheral vision and throwing me off. I got teed off when some dude randomly walked right in front of our lane in a STUPID attempt to influence his ball by walking (because of course the magnetic gravity of our bodies will pull the ball in the direction you walk in waaaayy after you've released it) and almost got trampled by Jay who was in the process of approaching the foul line but who had to turn around. I got PISSED when a dude just kept standing in the bowlers area all in my way so I had to maneuver past him to bowl in my own lane. All that together, plus the REPEATED occurrence of these events, made me furious.
And when I say furious, I mean itchy hand I'm bout to slap somebody furious.
Irrationality made me pick up a 12 pound ball like it was 5 lbs and just fling it down the lane. Rationality (the only thing that stopped the nigga moment)kept me from flinging it at one of their heads.
And the only reason I was rational at ALL was because we were on the North Side, and they'll kick you out of an establishment in a minute, and I didn't want Jay banned because I decided to go upside someone's head with a bowling pin for being in my way.
The only good thing that came out of it was that in my fury I actually threw a couple of good balls and ended up winning the game.
And in hindsight it really wasn't all that serious enough to get THAT irritated over. But then again, that's what made it a classic nigga moment contender.
I just hope next time something like this happens I stay rational. Cuz the results could have been disaster.
For those of you not familiar with the Boondocks or the concept of a "nigga moment", it's basically when ignorance overpowers the mind of an otherwise logical black (wo)man, causing them to act like a "nigga".
I say "almost" because I managed to hold on to just a little logic. But last night was no joke.
Jay and I went bowling last night. The problem was that the group of people in the lane next to us have no bowling etiquette whatsoever. Now, had they been little teenagers or something with no obvious bowling skills to speak of, I wouldn't have been so bothered because, well, I'd charge it to them never having really played the game before and so not knowing. These people were grown ass MEN who obviously had a little skill to them.
So I couldn't understand why they were all up in MY lane when they weren't even bowling, why they had to walk in front of us when they were bowling, and why they didn't have the common courtesy to wait for the person next to them to bowl before running up to the foul line and heaving their ball down the lane.
I wasn't so pissed the first time some idiot decided to wait until I was lining up my shot to just run up from left field and take his shot instead, fucking with my peripheral vision and throwing me off. I got teed off when some dude randomly walked right in front of our lane in a STUPID attempt to influence his ball by walking (because of course the magnetic gravity of our bodies will pull the ball in the direction you walk in waaaayy after you've released it) and almost got trampled by Jay who was in the process of approaching the foul line but who had to turn around. I got PISSED when a dude just kept standing in the bowlers area all in my way so I had to maneuver past him to bowl in my own lane. All that together, plus the REPEATED occurrence of these events, made me furious.
And when I say furious, I mean itchy hand I'm bout to slap somebody furious.
Irrationality made me pick up a 12 pound ball like it was 5 lbs and just fling it down the lane. Rationality (the only thing that stopped the nigga moment)kept me from flinging it at one of their heads.
And the only reason I was rational at ALL was because we were on the North Side, and they'll kick you out of an establishment in a minute, and I didn't want Jay banned because I decided to go upside someone's head with a bowling pin for being in my way.
The only good thing that came out of it was that in my fury I actually threw a couple of good balls and ended up winning the game.
And in hindsight it really wasn't all that serious enough to get THAT irritated over. But then again, that's what made it a classic nigga moment contender.
I just hope next time something like this happens I stay rational. Cuz the results could have been disaster.
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