Saturday, November 16, 2013

Steroids, More Trouble Than They Are Worth?

  So they have me on a steroid to help with the swelling in my face and neck, as well as with the bleeding in my tongue and from wherever else the blood is coming. I explained to my Hospice nurse, that in the past I've had trouble with anger issues on any steroid they've put me on for chemo or radiation. I didn't notice the first time through, but boy the family did, and I still feel badly about my behavior at that time, because I know enough about steroids to look for anger issues. I think I may be headed that way again. The circumstances this morning while leaving the coffee shop may have made me as mad just as fast, but I'm having trouble calming down from the short incident.
  Once again, Midlanders are showing me they are know it all pretentious pricks and bitches. Before I start, if I intentionally treated anyone with a handicap poorly on purpose, now is the time to slap the shit out of me. I don't believe I did, but I'm not sure. I know I read a lot of notes given out by people, but none of them were written on the fly, if they were looking for money. Every one of them was printed and some damn sob story preceded them. I'm about 50% on catching those folks doing exactly what the printed card said they couldn't. And I'm sure there are some legitimate people out there who need some help, but the rest of the lazy bastards have just about ruined that for them, and that's a shame.
  So, the entire mid morning shift just didn't show up at Starbucks's this morning. That leaves them way short handed. They hung a sign up as I was leaving stating as such. That the cafe would close, but the drive through would still be open. As I was leaving, two lovely you women were walking toward the door, and trying to save them some steps, I wrote "The Cafe is Closed" and held it up. One of the nice bitches, bumped my shoulder and said "No Thank", like I was selling her something. If I were a forgiving person,  I'd chalk that up to too many people hitting her up. But I'm standing next to my 300, with the driver's door open, not really what a beggar would drive, I don't think. Her friend said "asshole". Hmmmm, so the ultra observant bitches grab the handle to the door, with a BIG sign right next to it saying the the cafe was closed, and gave a big assed yank. They looked shocked. Now I'm fucking steaming over the asshole remark. So I croak out "Fuck you, Cunt, that's what I was telling you". They understand that perfectly well. Apparently having an asshole call her a cunt wasn't in the mix for her daily conversation. And hence why I believe some of my immediate irritation came from the steroids. I would never use that term, no matter how angry I got, never. And I have to add in here, for that pretentious bitch, if she's one of the readers of this blog that I don't know, and there are a lot. If you are going to call me an asshole, make sure you're four door pickup doesn't have that asinine stick fucking figure family on one side of the back window, and the Sign of The Fish on the other side. Not only are you a rude assed bitch, but a hypocrite as well. And people wonder why I gave up on organized religion. I found it more full of ass hats like that, than not.  And when an unwashed, oil field trash heathen such as myself generally has a more Christian attitude than those to smarmy bitches put together, something is wrong with their church, or themselves, for not even making the attempt to be civil. And yes, I know I get short with people, but I also don't flash my beliefs out there like a banner of of righteousness for all the world to see.
  Yeah, I'm still smoked a little over it. Which means I either am getting really thin skinned, or the steroids are helping along my bad attitude. If it's the steroids, I'll drop them like a hot potato. If it's not, I'm going to get my big boy undies refit. I don't like having them in a wad over a couple of inconsiderate, shit headed women. I'd been having a damn good morning right up to that point. A couple of people had asked, and quite to their embarrassment, I believe, if I can tasted the coffee going in my feeding tube. And yeah, I realized quite early on that it must look odd as anything to see some yahoo shoving coffee into a feeding tube. Complete with a little cream and sugar.  Turns out since my esophageal sphincter only works at 80-85% effective, if I push anything in too fast I can taste it. That goes with that nasty smelling Osmolite 1.5. Smells like shit, some I'm going to assume that's the flavor it leaves if I run a bag in too quickly. So, fair question, and a bit of a laugh. The first time my grandson shoved the plunger on a syringe full of lemonade I had, it ran a bit out my mouth, so fast and strong was his shove on the syringe plunger. Cracked me up. Next time we had a lesson on about how fast to push.
  There was a sad note, one that is still with me.  One of my friends twenty something year old son was found dead in his room. I can't even fathom that. And when I look at it, that could very well happen to me. I'm hoping it's not one of the children who find me. I can't imagine the loss. I've friends who've lost a child to SID's. At the time, being half stupid as I was, and not hearing about it for almost a year after the fact, I didn't contact them to express my sorrow. My heart broke for them, and at times it still does. That's my shame, I didn't know what to say, especially a year out, so I said nothing. And that's a real shame and a personal failure on my part. I hope before I am gone, I can wrangle the nerve to let them know, at the very least, they were in my thoughts often. Kind of weak, but 100% true. When compared, my smarmy bitches don't have a handle on hurting my feelings. Life has dragged out far worse things than two ignorant women out shopping. On the front that when I lose my temper like that, something generally comes around to teach me a lesson in anger control. Today's lesson is this: When you yell, and forcibly loudly enough for a couple of inattentive bitches to clearly understand, my throat is going to bleed a little and be really sore. Hard to figure, huh? Forcing my barely above a whisper voice into something loud hurts like who thought about it. Yep, that's true, mouth and throat both. Apparently Baxter likes it quiet in my neck and head. He's an asshole, I choose to ignore his laws and live by a few simple rules that lets me get away with a lot more than one would think. This cancer card is pretty cool. It's a shame I didn't try and pull that back in 08-09. I skipped the feeding tube and handicapped placard both.

  Something else has changed. I think something has made the left side of my neck swell up some extra. My chest area right around the tracheotomy is raw and chafed from being wet. Secretions and sweat I'm sure, but the skin is very raw, and now I'm trying to let it dry out and work on a different gauze design to make it work without allowing so much moisture onto my already super thin and tender flesh around that area. It was really bad before the stitches wouldn't hold the tube in any longer. They pulled out because my skin got so paper like in that area. It would tear and chafe at the drop of a hat. I'm not getting the thin as paper warning again, but it is close. Very tender right now. In fact, I've got the collar off and tube out as I type this, in hopes that the raw spot with get over the burning sensation it's giving me now. Cancer!!! The Gift that keeps on Giving!!! Gotta love it.....just not a lot. Okay, not at all.

  I'm finding while this dries out, that I have to really watch coughing. I don't have anything to help expel it. The hole flexes open too wide and I have no force to push out the lung oysters. Damn mess is what it is becoming. I'm gonna have to find some way to make it work out. To begin with, I believe some antibiotic ointment is going to be in order to start. I'd hate for this to get infected as well as be raw and chafed and a bit weepy. Not my eyes silly people, the raw spot. But I'll bet you knew that already.

 Recap the important lessons from today. Never, I mean never, skip over offering condolences on someone's loss, even if it is a bit down the road. I'm almost positive that the words "I'm so very sorry for your loss" may bring back some bad memories, but I truly believe that knowing someone hasn't forgotten, or has just found out, helps sort out some of those feelings.

 Book Of Rock:  Pay attention to your surroundings! It you can't see a 11  X 14 piece of paper, how in Heaven's name do you expect to see the guy wanting to rob you just 3 cars away in the mall parking lot.
   BTW, Brainiac, putting those stick figures on your back windows of your SUV or Pickup just let a thief know how many are in your family. Or didn't that cross your genius filled mind. Pay attention to your surroundings!!!  The second you don't see most of what's going on around you is the most dangerous time of the day. And the holiday weird season is almost upon us. Please be careful out there amongst the too stupid to be around, you're the only one looking out for you.

Hang tough. One of us have to, and today may not be my day.

PS: Booklet of Rock. Take a minute and be aware of your surroundings. Not just today, every day. The holiday season is chock full of accounts of people being robbed in mall parking lots. Those assholes just don't materialize from beneath the asphalt. They are opportunity hunters, don't let yourself become prey

 Pogue Mah Hoane, a proper answer to many of life's bothersome and irritating moments.

PPS: I fell asleep typing this. I had have a page of nothing but "SSSS". A sign of the times, or just not enough sleep at night?

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