Ugh, It's That Stupid Time of Year Again

I love my relationship with my fiance only two seasons a year-- spring and summer. Fall and Winter I will venture to say his sick love and fascination with an idiotic game that has no real goal to help better our lives makes me actually find him irritating and I'll go a step further...it makes me despise his guts.

I never in a million years thought I would be in a relationship that involved me, a mate, and fanatical sports viewing. I find the concept of my fiance watching this stupid shit hurtful, selfish, and degrading to our relationship. I am now given time frames about 10 hours a weekend of when and when I can't talk to him because a game is on. Can you get a load of that shit? Of course he doesn't find anything wrong with it. I mean, someone like me, doesn't care for rules, follow rules, and when rules are enforced one of two things can happen. One, I get bored and lose interest or two, I break the rules in some grand fashion, blow the rules up, and then burn the bridge I had.

We have had several spats about these issues during the week. Guess what? All I hear is, "you knew I was an avid sports fanatic" or "it could be worse, I could watch a game everyday" or my favorite this week, "I bought you cupcakes". I'm sorry, I thought you bought me cupcakes just because you loved me, missed me, and knew I would enjoy the sweet sentiment from the person I am in love with. Geez, what an idiot I was to think like that. Right?

I just sit in amazement of after all of these years I sacrificed being in a long distance relationship to finally be together be widowed during fall and winter for a homoerotic death match of dim wits. That just doesn't sit well. I already resent this aspect of our relationship, how am I going to marry a man knowing this? I mean I don't spend everyday with him so the full sting isn't there, just partially there when I know I am being penciled in for a phone chat. I'm the type to tell him to shove the phone chat up his ass because I don't play by the rules. Then when I say this, he likes to one up. He's a one upper or a matcher. He'll say "Well you watch Young and the Restless and GLEE"....that pisses me off too. I hate his sick need to either change the subject or switch back on me like I'm the bad person.

I don't need to work 40 plus hours a week to live nicely and then on the two short weekend days I have with my husband, he's busy watching stupidity.

It simply blows my mind and angers me to no end. I know he doesn't get it and he'll stick with the "you knew I was an avid sports watcher." If I hear that one more time, I swear I am so close to backing out of our engagement. I just can't see how I can be married and in this situation year after year for the rest of our lives. I even went as a far as to research "football wives" and "football widow" for coping mechanisms or for guidance. I came across one link that made me want to vomit bile. This article suggested I change my ways to accommodate my man and his football. Umm, isn't it 2012 not 1952? I don't accommodate anyone who won't accommodate me. What the hell is the point in that?

Check out this ridiculous link I read: http://voices.yahoo.com/a-survival-guide-football-widow-680.html

I have said over and over, time and time again, we are not cut from the same cloth. What the hell do we have in common, it needs to be something so big that helps keep us together? I don't even know if I should go on with wedding plans. I feel like we'll be breaking up any day over this BS because we aren't finding middle ground. I don't need the stress, that's for sure.

What to do? What to do? I don't need to be in a relationship with feelings of resentment over something I find stupid. He really needs another woman that better matches him. He really truly does. Someone submissive, does what he says, likes what he likes, caters to his every need. I'm not that chick. Not by a loooong shot. I should tell him it's free communication weekend on one of those sites like match. com. He would probably find a dumb bimbo who likes sports. I really could rant about this forever, that is literally how upset I am.

I'll stop now and stew in my anger. I don't feel I need to cater to him on this subject. I understand compromise is needed for real relationship problems but I refuse to compromise on this just like he will refuse to compromise on how he feels. I think that my friends is what they call a stale mate in chess, you know an actual game that takes IQ points to play.

Makes me think of the Cell Block Tango in the musical Chicago. You know the scene? The gist is, the women simply snap after their husbands repeat annoying habits or worse...

Let's Do It, Do It, Do It

....in a cold and sterile medical lab that is.

I'm on a bat out of hell mission folks. I'm not giving up on my baby mission just yet. I start Rituxan the 20th of September. It's chemotherapy. Let's all be honest with ourselves. So, this medication will most likely be the proverbial nail in my proverbial fertility coffin. I have set up an appointment September 7th to see a fertility specialist in hopes I am a candidate for fertility preservation. My fertility specialist is the lead director of the program at UNC. She actually wants my case and apparently only takes the tough ones. I am a tough cookie in more ways than one. I may be told I have a fat snowball's chance in hell, but at least I want those words coming out of the director of fertility's mouth. Then, I will have to accept it.

This is all because my neighbor/friend planted the seed in my head that this could be done. She has been going through IVF for 4 years with no luck at Duke. Then she changed to UNC and BAM! She got pregnant with triplets! I went to see her and drop off my baby shower gifts because I was in NYC and could not make her shower. I was bummed because I wanted to be a part of that. So we were talking and she said that perhaps I should detox from meds and try to harvest and freeze eggs. I looked at her stunned but then said, why the hell not!?!

I don't know how much money is involved yet. I know it will be a lot, so much so I can't afford it and then that is another reason I will be unable to do it. I may just not be simply healthy enough either. That is a chance I'm willing to take. I'm tired of being robbed. You know what I mean? I mean that last 5 or 6 years I have been averaging a surgery or two a year. Not even small stupid surgeries, I mean big ones that have an economic time cost in rehab and recoup. I'm over it. I've been through the ringer and I'm just plain fed up. I have had a literal belly full!

I'm tired of seeing people having babies that don't deserve them and I'm tired of seeing women in their younger years having abortions as though it is "birth control" because they were either too stupid or lazy to take regular precautions will all take, then get married and have a baby for real and act all blessed and shit. What about the aborted fetus in the trash can you disposed of a couple years back? Why wasn't that baby good enough?

Point in case time.

I worked with this twit at school a couple of years back. She was in a committed relationship and living with some guy. She became pregnant and waited around for 12 weeks or so not telling her boyfriend and she went in secrecy to get an abortion. She never told him. Then a year or so later they get married and now she is close to giving birth to their first child!

That shit really pisses me off. WTF?!

I'm sitting here probably having to go into hawk for 30+k to TRY and have a baby because I have a disease I didn't ask for or want for that matter.

Where the hell is the fairness in that? This is the stuff that keeps me up at night pissed off beyond belief. I know it does no good, but I really can't help myself. I'm like a junkie looking for a fix, but my fix is thinking.

Wish me luck readers. I'm going in proverbial ovaries blazing!

I want to state that I do not want to prohibit other women from getting abortions. I would never do that for myself, personally but I do not want other women to not have the option. I'm just mad at cases like above. That healthy women don't care and abort babies right and left and then have babies like they were never pregnant before. I guess, I just despise hypocrites. Plus, let's be honest....I'm jealous of healthy reproductive women.

Don't You Think I'm Sexy?

I just want to state for the record that chronic diseases can really eff with your mind and self-esteem.

Point-in-case:

Last night in an attempt to keep the Skype session between me and my fiance fresh, I decided to go out on a limb and be, well, let's say "spontaneous" and "spicy". I was rebuffed and dismissed with a yawn BEFORE 10PM because he was tired. Now most hot blooded men would be hooting and hollering! Mine? A big yawn and a "goodnight sweetheart". I went to bed pissed thinking of all the times I have initiated "cuddle time". 

I was tossing and turning thinking about how I am not all that confident in my skin, in some ways I can be a down right prude. I mean, let's be honest: extra poundage from lack of exercise, medications, and the evil roid doesn't help my confidence or self-esteem. Then to be rebuffed, well it totally sucks. I decided I am no longer going to be spontaneous or spicy on Skype or during cuddle time. I'm tired of initiating this when I don't even feel that sexy to begin with!!!!!!!!

I'm not sexy, believe me readers. I don't even consider myself pretty. I always considered myself to be average. Now I think my relationship is headed down to that dreaded platonicville. I keep trying to keep our long distance relationship away from platonicville but I can't be the only one trying. It takes two and I am starting to think his lack of trying is saying something loud and clear. That is he loves me, I won't deny that. But is he still in love with me? There is a huge difference between those two feelings. He hates when I question if he loves me but I'm really trying to get at the heart of if he IS STILL IN love with me.

If last night was any indication, I might be screwed and living in platonicville.

I only have perhaps a couple of good sex years left. My disease has already taken out my knee(s), it is starting to work on my hip (the pops it makes during you know what is a real turn off), then I suffer days afterwards with a real sensitive and painful hip. My right hand is crap right now and we know how hands can hold one up, if you catch my drift. I mean, I want to get while the gettin is good. I don't think that is too much to ask for. I already lost years while recuperating from surgeries and I know my future is limited in the intimacy area. I can't waste these years on someone who only loves me and is not in love with me.

See, no one thinks about what disease can do in areas like intimacy. I think I have been rather honest and even though no one will comment in agreement, I know you know what I am talking about.

My Skype session will be the usual humdrum business tonight.

Him: "Hi beautiful" (I scoff as I am looking ragged and in pjs)

Me: "Hi, how was your day?"

Him: "Rant rave yadda yadda"

........you get the rest. Oh don't forget interruptions and dogs barking, and phones buzzing......

Boring, right?

Well, I sure as shit don't exude this type of sexiness. I can safely say that too!

You Can't Always Get What You Want but You Get What You Need

Randy Lanza is the douchebag of all douchebags that broke my mother's heart in 1966 when she was in high school. He left her for a girl named Wendy, and left my mom to cry in her pillow for months on end. I always here this story when I go back home to New York and me being obvious team mom, I see myself hating Randy's guts as well. I went as far as to stalk his ass on facebook and write a scathing letter to him telling him how many ways he was a douchebag. That is how serious I am about my love and loyalty to my family. Of course I couldn't find the shmuck. Ugh one day my spying and searching will find him and he will rue the day he messed with my mom (even though I did not come into this world 13 years later).

This leads me to my own douchebags that I still spy on to this day. One doesn't count as spying since we are friends hahaha. I thought I was madly in love with a high school friend. We tried to make it work from time to time but he was grappling with his sexual feelings, sexual feelings towards guys that is. On some level looking back at it, I did love him. He was my high school soulmate. We looked after one another, laughed at one another and other mutual oddities, we loved to dance with one another, we loved art, and the same music. It took me a long time to come to the realization that he just simply did not love me like I loved him. He loved me, don't get me wrong, but not in the way I needed to be loved. In the wise words of Forrest Gump, "We were like peas and carrots". I don't despise him, actually we are in constant contact either through texts, calls, and facebook.

Here are two pictures of us in high school. Obviously one pic is the quintessential prom pic. I say we looked smashing. Like a scene out of Taco's "Puttin' On the Ritz"

Ah hell here is the song I was referring to. It's such a one hit kooky wonder.

Then comes the ultimate heartbreak. Why am I discussing this you ask? Well, I have a sick fascination of spying on the one man that truly broke my heart....on you guessed it, facebook. The dumb shit does not even make his page private. It's like he is asking us to look at his pathetic life.
So, I spy on TJK (that is all I will give) every few months or so. We share a mutual friend and so it's just so tempting.

Backstory: I was a junior in college as an art major and he was my professor in sculpture. He was a pretty well known artist locally and in other areas and he started branching out to NYC. Well when I had him in class as an instructor he was married to the head of the department. Unbeknownst to me, he was unhappily married to the head of the department and she was having an affair on TJK with his best friend. I had no idea. I'd just talk to him during studio time and that is all we had. That summer he was moving to NYC for his MFA at Rutgers and the whole department knew he was getting a divorce from his wife. So on the last day of spring class, he asked me if I hung out downtown in Orlando. I said yeah that a few of us were going to hit a bar and I half assed invited him thinking he wouldn't show because he was 24 years older than us. Well, I showed up and there he was at the bar. My jaw dropped and I got all kinds of butterflies. Right then and there I knew I liked him. I was a smitten kitten. I mean just look at how barfy head over heels I was with this manipulative asshole.

Proof is in the pictures!

Things progressed and we made it work through long distance and then I made it up to NYC. 9/11 hit and that brought us closer. I thought things were going well until I found out he was in love with a younger Asian version of myself, yep another one of his art students. Needless to say I hit rock bottom and I flipped a lid. After doing some serious unlady like things, I cut off all communication. It has been about 10 years now since all of this happened. I shut myself off from all types of relationships because of this serious blow. I was the lowest of the low then.

So now when I spy on him, I truly want to see that his life sucks. I know, it is awful of me but at least I am being honest. Well, somehow this bastard has gone through several young impressionable art students and come to find out got engaged on August 22nd to some other artist. My mouth dropped today when I saw all of this on his page. I was upset that he found love with yet another unsuspecting Guinevere. You ask me, "a guinevere?" Well, it turns out that there is a complex called the Guinevere Complex where older artistic men pray on young impressionable artsy girls. These old crusty bastards try and mold their young lovers into what they want them to be and then once they no longer have use for them, they toss them aside for a new younger version of yourself. This complex was even made into the most moving movie.

Here is the trailer. I strongly recommend you check it out because this trailer does not do the movie justice. I cry in anger every time I watch it.

After my spying, I admit....I stewed. Why? I guess I just want him to experience the pain and heartache I experienced. Nothing more than that. I wanted him to be the laughing stock of the art world and be penniless and loveless. I know, harsh. I am a harsh person big in spite. Hey. I'm not perfect.

Then something dawned on me. Through all of my heartache in the past neither of these two "loves of my life" could ever give me the love and attention I needed. Instead, some mystic twist I was given William. He definitely is not what I envisioned for myself in the artistic sense but he is a solid stand-up man who loves me and cares about me. I need to quit my reminiscing of bad times past and move on to love what I have now and forever.

So thank you to BJ and TJK for teaching me that lesson today.

You Can't Always See Pain

I am an avid news and gossip junkie. I should be embarrassed my the fact that I am a gossip munger. I check People.com and Perezhilton.com often. I used to use these sites as an escape route from recovering from surgeries and from days pain were too rough to leave the house. I gather we all choose which ways we want to escape. I used sites like those to escape.

So the addiction to gossip is set in and I still check these sites regularly. On People.com, I've been following Diem Brown's blogs about her second round of ovarian cancer and subsequent chemo treatments. Most of you may ask, who in the hell is Diem Brown? I hate to admit that I know she was on one of the season's of MTV's Real World and the other spin off shows having to do with challenges. In any case, she's young and battling her second diagnosis of cancer within the past few years. Today People.com posted one of her new blogs and in her blog, she stated the most profound statement of, "you can't always see pain". Here is a link to the blog, http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20623466,00.html

She wrote the following on her latest blog:

"I have many girlfriends who have found themselves at the mercy of invisible illnesses. I have a girlfriend with advanced Lyme disease, a girlfriend with Cystinuria and a girlfriend with an auto-immune disease that I had never even heard of – Ankylosing Sponylitis, aka AS. 

All three of my girlfriends have suffered both the emotional and physical torment that accompanies these ailments; but to the general public's naked eye, the side effects of their diseases are invisible. No "doors" are held open for them as they pass through. 

My girlfriend with AS shared this amazing story that made me dissect and ponder the way our society treats "invisible" illnesses. She shared her annoyance about someone's Facebook status update complaining about a particular handicapped spot occupant at the gym. The post basically said that if a person is going to gym then she/he must not be that handicapped. And here's where our society has shown poor judgment. 

A person emerging from his or her car parked in a handicapped spot may seem completely healthy and completely "normal" walking towards the gym. But what's lying beneath the surface?"

First things first! How awesome that she mentioned Ankylosing Spondylitis? Of course I cheer because my fiance is inflicted with this disease. It took a lot, and I mean a lot from him but he always has the best attitude about it. Then she mentions yet another auto-immune disease. I was blown away at her poignant prose on how we simply just don't know what people are dealing with from day to day encounters. I can think back to when I had that idiotic incident in a parking lot a year or so ago. I had a legal temporary handicap placard from my ortho after I just had the bones in my leg broken and then had screws placed in the broken bones to hold my wee little kneecap in place for a little bit longer. After the bitch face illegally parked between two handicap spots on van accessible lines, I was the one found at fault for allegedly "hitting" her door with my door because I couldn't bend my knee 2 months post-op. Her words in court? "She didn't look handicapped!!!" Ummmm, excuse me? If a doctor saw me as handicapped after a major reconstructive surgery, then I have a problem. Duh. 

Diem  is right, society has shown poor judgement in terms of invisible illness. Kudos to her and I hope her treatments go well and I wish her a speedy recovery.

On a happier and sweeter note, I got a surprise today! I received 6 designer cupcakes from CRUMBS bakery from my fiance! What an awesome awesome surprise! He was being weird today about being and playing nice today and how I should share. I'm sitting there thinking, "I'm an only child, he knows I can't promise that!" Then he was telling me how today was going to be a special Thursday. I thought he finally lost it to delirium because we've both been working on dieting. Well let me restate that, he's been working so hard and doing so well on his diet. Me? Ummm, I kind of am half assing it. I know I know. I really should work harder, but how can I now with these delicious cupcakes in my presence? Did my fiance set me up to fail? Hahahaha. Maybe, but it was a beautiful and sweet surprise. It made me happy that he listens to me (even when I think he's not) and doing sweet gestures for me.

Pictures of the cupcakes! I already sampled the red velvet cupcake. DEEEELLLIIICCCIOUS!

We also booked our officiant for our wedding. I feel we found a caring woman who will give us what we want, a civil ceremony with no pronouncement of "man and wife" and the word "obey". I have to book our venue in the next week or so. I found a place I liked and feel it suits our needs. Finding a venue with keeping Rita in mind is a task all in itself. I didn't want a venue with stairs, I wanted ample carpeting, no slick surfaces, and a venue we can have a ceremony in. I've changed our wedding colors too. I go through these things and we discuss them daily and my fiance blurts out and laughs that these next 13 months are going to be hell. He's so right!

Alternative Wellness: A Crock of Shit?

Okay, I might get bashed here. I'm not into alternative care. Yes, that includes chiropractic care. I have tried alternative care in my early 20's. I went to a holistic hospital in Wichita, Kansas. I referred to it as the holistic hut. There they noted I had markers of inflammation through the roof (ahem, no shit sherlocks). THey cut my hair and ran it for tests. I did aura readings to show aura blockage, I did a primal scream rotation. It turns out I was deficient in a lot of nutrients and vitamins, had metal in my system, and they prescribed high high doses of Vitamin C infusions to be completed once a week for 12 weeks or so. I followed through and 5k later I still felt like shit.

After that, I really was turned off by that field. I was told that due to the lack of my belief in the cause, that is why I inevitably failed. Perhaps there is some truth to that but what also needs to be mentioned is that I had hope that it would work. I am not a belief person in many aspects. I need to see in order to believe. I am, therefore, the quintessential doubting Thomas. For the last decade I have been working with medical doctors who can offer medical answers, quantitative proof, and overall proof in general of existence of actions and reactions. I am a linear thinking in that regard.

So, at that bridal expo there was a chiropractic booth. As I was talking to bridal gown people I was watching this test they were performing on women to see if that machine was a scam. Ladies backs were in relatively good shape. I deduced that the machine might be rather legitimate, therefore, I'd give it a whirl. I was bouncing around the idea of seeing a chiropractor for my thoracic region, specifically T4 and T5. Degeneration has set in there. I was hoping to get the joints in my back a but more under control. Long story short, the machine showed my issue in T4 and T5 but it showed horrific issues in the cervical region (my neck). I signed up to meet with him and get x-rays. I went through the motions and finally got my X-ray. The skeptic in me wanted to see my actual name on the X-ray and since I have had so many X-rays, scans, and MRI'S. I know what makes my cranium different. Well, my X-ray stunk and in less then a year from my last X-rays for my Rheumy, well my neck has deteriorated so so so much. I was in complete shock. I signed up to see if he will be able to help me.

I've seen him a few times and I have to say, my back hurts like hell....more so than when I first started. Ugh. I think I just blew a wad of cash on something that may not help.

On to another thought. I have a neighbor/friend down the street who is 38. After 4 years of IVF cycles, her and her husband are having triplets. Yes, your read that right. Triplets. I missed her baby shower and dropped off my presents for the babies. We were talking about kids and what not and she kind of had a genius idea. She said I should detox off all of my meds and go through the IVF process to harvest my eggs. This way, I will have detox and cellularly happy eggs to harvest in case I can have a baby. I do not know if any of this is possible. I am going to consult with the Duke Rheumy next month and see if this is possible. It might not be, but I have some hope...not so much belief.

I leave you with a classic about babies. After meeting a good friend from high school and her cute cute 6 month old son for lunch, all I could do was sing this song:

C-Reactive Protein (CRP) and Amyloidosis

Well folks, today was a knee slapper of a good day at my infusion and doctor's appointment. Will I ever get good news? Just a wee little nugget of happiness?

Big things are happening, and not for the best. I get my blood drawn every 4 to 6 weeks like a good little RA patient. My blood work mind you have never been good. The markers of inflammation like CRP and SED rate have been constantly elevated to some degree. However, since January, these two specific indicators for us RA/Rad folks have been showing that despite monthly Orencia infusions and 20mg of Arvava have not been containing the wildfire in me. So my CRP is supposed to be between 0 to 4.0. That there is a health inflamed free person. Me? Oh, I'm just at 42. 9. Yikes. SED rate used to be rated between 0-20 but they upped it to 32 for RA people. Mine? 45. Granted it has been as high as 90 and spikes to 60 once in a rare while. However, I have been a solid months in the mid 40's to low 50's. So needless to say, my numbers are in the dump.

I have had the hardest time breathing these last three weeks. Well, that was shown by RA lung today in an x-ray equipped with nodule. Bummer news there. Nasty prednisone was discussed, I refuted. Instead I got this shot in my ass called Celestrone? Anyone else heard of it or have had it? I was told it would not be like steroid shots in the ass. You know the kind, right? The awful stinging, subsequent pissing like a race horse, jittery, and sweaty. Well, I had all of that after being sold a false bill of goods. 

Something horrible was mentioned out loud today. One that I have been kicking around in the back of my head for a couple of months. The prospect of amyloidosis. People with RA have a much higher percentage of amyloid proteins in our bodies and consistently high CRP numbers are indicators for the disease. I did not mention a sneaking fear of mine until the doctor mentioned I might have a possibility of having it. Plus, the real shit kicker? My poor uncle suffered with this painful disease and died a slow horrible death. So, it is also in my genes. It's not looking good folks. My abnormal swelling and symptoms plus blood tests are pointing in this obscure direction. I will most likely need tissue samples of my kidneys under sedation and those tissue samples get sliced and di-sected with red Congo stain to show crystalizing. If this in fact true, I will have to go north to an amyloidosis center in Boston to get treated. The treatment is a heavy heavy dose of chemo for months on end and living in a germ free bubble until the process is complete. There are success rates but also death rates with this disease. I'm hoping this is just a far off hair brained idea that is so out of reach but one should always be prepared for the worst, then be happily surprised at good news. I have to admit I'm nervous. 

I still have to share the chiropractic story that had me in stitches, but I will have to leave that for another day. Amyloidosis, high CRP, and SED rate ate my mind up today and my last Orencia kicked me in my ass. Starting next month, I will finally be starting Rituxin. There is a loading dose with this infusion. I have to have 2 6 hour infusions in 2 weeks then I am not due for another infusion in 6 months. That will be a nice break from going every month. It will help my psyche to not see the death and disability I see on a monthly basis. Granted I will no longer have my mighty important B-cells anymore but I guess everything is a tradeoff in auto-immune disease world, right?

I leave you with a picture of my shameful RA report card. Womp womp to the 10th degree.

While getting my infusion today, I heard Rob Thomas' song he wrote for his feelings of helplessness about his wife's mystery auto-immune disease. It is a poignant song. I was singing it all day.

Then there is this other song that has been out about being a fighter, and that's what all of us are with disease....fighters. Granted, I'm no Olympian but I feel like a damn fighter every day with this disease and I am sure all of you can relate.

Southern Bride Meets Chiropractor and Gets Pissed Off at a Vendor's Question

Yesterday was one hell of a day. I was practically triple dog dared (no one turns down a triple dog dare) to attend the "Southern Bridal Expo" at the NCSU Fairgrounds. Umm, let me first state that I am pretty much the anti-bride and secondly, I am definitely the anti Southern bride. Me doing southern? Ugh, no thanks. I'll definitely pass. However, my Mom got a hair brained idea that I would get great ideas at this expo. What she envisioned and what I envisioned were as opposite as night and day.

We finally find the place and might I just add that the outside smelled like manure. I don't do manure. I gag at shoveling cat poo and I've been doing it most my life. So, I already kind of had a literal bad smell and taste to the place. I get in and realized I was a bad bride for not pre-registering. Who really takes the time to pre-register for this stuff? I filled out my info and then there was a groom's info section. I figured since this rat bastard isn't with me, he might as well get spammed with chick shit e-mails. I am that type of woman by the way, spiteful. So they see that my wedding date is 9/13/13. I get slapped with a huge blue sticker that says "September 2013". Okay, why that embarrassed me is beyond me, but hell it did. They had Groom stickers and I wished he was there suffering with me. My mom was excited to put a "Mother of The Bride" sticker on. I asked what this sticker meant because I am that stupid of an anti-bride. Apparently my sticker informs vendors where I am at in the planning stages. What plan is what I ask myself?

We hit the 20,000 square foot fluff convention. Now, I'm all for glitz and pizazz but not so much the fluff and Southern Brides are all about fluff. The first vendor oddly enough was a venue place I contacted 2 weeks ago vis a vis e-mail. This place (who shall remain nameless) wrote me a nasty gram telling me that they could not accommodate "such a small affair". I crossed those dirty bastards off my list. As this venue was the 1st vendor, the bridal pusher (as I called them) was trying to lure me in to their bullshit. I swiftly cut her off at her knees as I told her that their nastygram made their point abundantly clear that my "affair was not worth their time". I also informed them from an economic standpoint their venue will not make it if they continue to turn business away. Like duh.

As I stood there and put that venue in their place a bridal gown store overheard my snarky comments and proceeded to clap. Apparently, I was their anti-bride hero. I started to ask them questions and my mom did as well and decided to set up my 1st wedding dress appointment. Oy vey, what the hell am I getting into here? I told them that under no circumstances will they put me in poofy fluffy crap. I'm a modern gal and not that girlie with that kind of glitz. My mom was explaining how I have a disease (RA) and how my disease is in control of telling me when I'm screwed and need a surgery and how would that affect dress purchasing. As she was yammering away a chiropractor booth was across the pathway. They were listening to my mom describe my problems. I was watching them as they were consulting with brides and giving them this free test. Of course this scan was coming back normal for every bride. So, I knew it wasn't a traveling flim flam man operation or a traveling snake oil scam.

I went over there because I have been contemplating chiropractic care and auto-immune disease. I filled out this sheet circling my problems. After that the "doctor" came to talk to me and I openly disclosed Rita and the subsequent problems and surgeries she caused/causes me. He looked concerned and did this scan he did on the other brides. I did not fess up that RA has been indicated in my thoracic portion of my spine and I wanted to see if that was detected by the machine. Sure enough T4 and T5 showed up but C 1-4 showed up in a MAJOR way with these horrible long red bars of danger. The "doctor" was in such shock he dropped his machine. He stated he never had seen that or at that level of bad. Great! He asked me if I have been seen by a neurologist. Ummm, no....why? He was telling me something was really really wrong. Yeah no shit sherlock, I can see that with my own two eyes. After speaking with him for some time I decided to see him for an eval (which I did today and it's not looking good but will no more Wednesday after my results come in).

After that I just wanted to stuff myself with wedding cake samples and mimosa samples. I met with a few photographers I liked. One though pissed me off. He didn't mean to but he asked me what I found to be an invasive question. He asked me what defined us as a couple. I stood there in silence not knowing what to say. I asked him, "come again?" and he asked me what we like to do as a couple. Ummm, I don't know? We like to sit our crippled asses on the couch and watch TV? How pathetic does that sound? My mom stepped in because she feared that either I'd start to cry or punch the asshole out. I can go either way. So my mom explained how both of us have medical problems that prohibit us from doing quite a bit of hobbies. I stood there and felt like if you are hobbyless you are useless. I wanted to say he could take our damn engagement couple photos in the hospital where we have spent many years and large chunks of change on. Take pics of us on hospital beds or at physical therapy, no better yet take pics of us at an ortho's office! Shmuck nugget. That really agitated/still agitates me. I'm not useless because I do not do as much as others.

Thank Jesus, Mary, and Joseph that was the last row of hell. That last row was likened to Dante's inner circle of hell. I felt like turning into stone and remain frozen giving the middle finger to that ass wipe. Okay, vent is completed.

I met some interesting characters and feel no more closer to getting anything solidified for OUR wedding. My fiance is getting in a bad habit of saying "your" wedding. Ummm there's two of us dummy.

Do you picture me getting married in a barn? Yeah, me neither.

That is all the Southern Bride show taught me. I do not want to get married in a shit filled wooden hut.

Finding Gems and That Spark

I got back from my Virginia/West Virginia mini-vacation yesterday. My fiance and I met half way between our two locations for two days. We needed that happy alone time. I had a blast and it was nice to know that my heart still feels the same about him despite that bitch distance trying to get in there and mess things up.

We also celebrated our anniversary by having a yummy hibachi dinner. It was just nice to spend the time together. I needed it and I think he did too. He also found an interesting adventure for the both of us to do, mining for ore. I'm not one for manual labor. I can blame it on Rita but in all honesty I just do not like to sweat. I'm a real girl's girl in that aspect. So, I was a bit hesitant to mine for ore. Fiance was excited so it was infectious. He found this place called Someplace Special outside of Beckley, WV. We found the place (after I was kind of nervous that we were literally out in the middle of nowhere). Farmer Joe owned the place and introduced himself. We introduced ourselves and he told us that he mines the big pile of sand/dirt every morning near his creek. We stood there and saw the pile. We decided to complete 4 buckets and whatever we found, we found. I really had zero expectation on finding anything. I hoped to find a sapphire for my Mom since her birthstone is sapphire.

Thus began the process. My fiance started aimlessly shoveling the first bucket but then as I inspected the mound I could see glimmers of chunky stones. I started to direct him where to shovel. So we finished the other 3 buckets. We carried them over to the bench where we sift the dirt at a water table. I started on my bucket and started hitting the lottery. I was working so hard, working up a sweat. Scooping dirt, sifting dirt, and finding gems! In all honesty I did not have a clue to what I was finding. I just admired the colors, patterns, or sizes. I started putting my findings in another sifter. It was like the more I scooped, the more I found. I was on fire! My poor fiance was not doing as well. Every stone he picked up he would ask what it was. Farmer Joe kept telling him he was finding rocks. While he was finding rocks, I was finding garnet, jade, and sapphire! Farmer Joe was impressed at the garnet I found. I did not even know it was garnet. We were laughing and my fiance was amazed at how hard and fast I was working. I can be a hard worker if something is in it for me. Ahahahaha. It really was a fun adventure. One we will both cherish for years to come. I was happy just to spend the time with my fiance but hell, finding gems was a serious added bonus!


Here are some pictures from the day.

Here is a pic of the 100+ carat garnet I found. I contacted a gem cutter to see if I can make anything with this. I have to send him pics.

Here is a pretty piece of jade I found.

Here is the sapphire I found! My fiance found one too in his small loot and he gave it to my mom.

Here is my sifter and loot. This wasn't even all of it!

Here's poor William's sifter womp womp!

Here's a picture of William sifting for loot.

When we got back to our hotel room, William wanted me to spread my loot out. He placed a quarter in the middle of it to show the scale.

Super fun time was had, and I definitely needed it! However, once I got back home a medical bill for an emergency room visit I had the week prior was waiting for me. $2,149 ugh....oh well I'm still staying on my high!

Ruts

I feel like I should be a rutologist, an anthropologist for the life ruts, love ruts, and medical ruts. Rut.....I mean right?

So I want to be honest, we can check three major rut categories right off the list. I am in a life rut, love rut, and medical rut. I want to be comfortable in saying that I think the chronically ill (like me and my readers) can safely associate with the rut weaving in and out of the other rut categories. I mean come on, how can you have a medical rut that does not have effects and consequences in other areas like life and love? When you are not feeling medically up to par you sure as hell don't feel like being romantic then that brings you and your partner in a love rut then you sit there and think about how your life has become stagnant....and well, you get the idea. Everything and I mean everything is definitely inter-related in life.

I want to also safely state that us chronically ill folks probably have more hurdles and frequent hurdles than the non-chronically crowd. Would you agree? I'm always up for debate blogosphere. Bring it. I may not have my physical faculties in check but I definitely do have a sharp brain haha.

I of course want to cure my medical rut first. I have been trying everything I can to get that rut checked the hell off my list so I can have that energy and use it to taking care of my other two current ruts. Of course nothing goes to plan.

I've never really had a serious relationship before and the nuances of relationships and subsequent feelings are new to me. I do know enough to sense when I am happy and not happy. I'm on the fence right now. I know we both have hurdles out of our control like disease, distance, and monetary strains from disease. So it is obvious to state that we have a lot stacked up against us. However, I guess a lot of people do. I just want to know how you can get past relationship ruts? I read trash magazines like COSMO (I know, it really is quite shameful to admit that) and I searched the interwebs for ideas. My fiance and I had a heart to heart which consisted of me crying on the phone. Ugh, why does that big bastard get my water works going? I hate to have him see me cry, hear me cry, or even smell my tears. I guess he should take it as a compliment that this tough cookie feels open enough to be vulnerable. I just want to make sure we make it. I take that stuff seriously as does he. I just wish we could all bottle our highs when we first fall in love. I know we all feel like we could jump the moon.

I started putting a skeletal framework together for wedding ideas and I know he's a straight dude that could care less about what the place looks like or visions and details. I get it but I guess I would like questions or comments. We're sitting down for a wedding planning session Thursday. He's in for hours of thinking and giving opinions with minimal eye rolling. This is the ONLY time I'm doing this. So, it better be good.

I decided against dancing at my wedding. I don't want that painful reminder on our day. I'll just save our first dance for the honeymoon night in the privacy of closed doors. You know, that may have sounded more sexual than I originally intended. Next weekend is a Southern Bride show. My mom wants to go, so I am going to go. I don't really picture myself as the quintessential southern bride, but heck...I'll see what's out there. I want an RA Bride Booth ahaha.

You know why I want my relationship to work so badly? I just always want a constant in my life to look forward to. I can say with 100% certainty that I was robbed in a lot of ways. My Dad informs me of that often. I just don't want RA to affect one more damn thing in my life, like that of my relationship. Rita is a ravenous bitch and I just don't want her to take him away from me for various reasons. Everyone has to try in a relationship however, some people have to try harder and that includes me. I'll keep my fingers figuratively crossed in hopes Rita doesn't take my relationship away. I always want him to see me as beautiful, loving, and happy....and let's face it that trifecta only happens like 30% (at best) of the time. Has anyone else out there with a disease started the bad habit of comparing yourself to others? I never used to be as bad as I currently am. I look at other women around my age and think..."oh they're so pretty", "oh they have a great figure", "oh I bet ol'WW would find her hot". Then I look at myself and think about prednisone face. poundage, gray hairs, wrinkles, limps, swelling...yadda yadda yadda. Ugh dumb Rita, she can play evil head games.

Oh, by the way, speaking about my fiance...he sucked my soul and started a blog as well. Is nothing sacred? He will never ever be as open and honest as I am on here. His blog is aptly named Middle Aged Geriatric.

His link:www.middleagedgeriatric.blogspot.com

He is the oldest man I know.

I hope everyone had a nice weekend. I stayed away from the public and away from the fridge (the best I could) while on more roids. My leg is better but it's literally still numb to the touch. I just want to make sure it works.

A Tempest is Brewing

How much is too much to share on a blog? I do not know if I will ever know what crosses the TMI boundary. I am an honest person and speak my mind, so this might be a TMI type of post.

My fiance was joking with me that two super storms were brewing, one storm made by prednisone and the second storm made of my the hormones of aunt flow. I think the super storm is knocking on my door as I type this.

I say this because something that was said to me tonight by my fiance almost brought me back to tears and luckily I choked them back because I hate nothing more than to cry in front of him on a computer screen on Skype. It was one of those Freudian slips, the type you know what was meant to be said and computed but the kind you quickly cover up and change a word or two to make the original stinging thought sound less horrid. He was telling me what a busy schedule he has for this weekend (and well, I don't because I am close to bed ridden with my inflamed nerves and barely staying in place hip/pelvic area). I am happy he has things going on for him, but that does not negate the fact that I am jealous of his social calendar of school, social gatherings, and family trips. Quite frankly, I want to be a part of all that. Without him thinking he stated, "When you are a part of my life we will be doing these things." He then realized immediately how that sounded and tried changing it to the fact that I am in his life. However, the truthful Freudian slip was the actual thought and sentiment that was meant to be. I am not in his life. I may be in passing thoughts but that's about it. It hurt. I know he did not mean it intentionally, it's just Freudian slips can be so damn biting. Once words are out there, they are hard to forget. So that will be ringing in my ear and making a nice little groove in my brain and heart tonight.

He hates when I say he deserves better. He does, I'm too negative and I am not at that acceptance stage in my disease like he is. I'm still grieving and angry. So much so, I told him since we have no money and are unable to throw a wedding at this time, I refuse to be 40 and in a wheelchair getting married. I told him I'd dump him before having to stick him with that beast of burden. He then asked me if I'd dump him if he was in a wheelchair. I never would do that. I just have a horrible issue with my own pride. I know it gets in my way from living a "proper and full" life, but I am a stubborn bitch. Hell, at least I know that.

Does anyone else feel they are self-sabatogers once their diagnosis of RA settled in? I noticed I am starting to teeter on self-sabatoge with my fiance. I'm starting to pick on things that have no relevance in all honesty just so he opens his eyes and realize there are better people out there for him. While in NYC, I was really starting to come to the conclusion that I was subconsciously keeping him at arms length. However, I don't know why. I'd like to understand why. I know the pain is wearing me down and it is to the very rawest of nerves and that can make me touchy. It's hard to have an open and pure heart when pain takes up 99% of your life. I know some of you can totally agree. Most couples at my age come with baggage in the forms of ex husbands/wives and children. I come with Rita and a damaged brain. Any intelligent person would take the baggages of exes and kids. My baggage is so damn complicated and I do not even fully understand it yet.

What's a girl to do?