I see users and homeless pick up the smokeable butts from the vomit-strewn streets rife with human excrement in front of the 7/eleven that used to be on the 1500 block of 3rd Ave. Pigeons pecking through the vomit. Homeless unwashed people with open, running sores, panhandling for their mangy, starving, flea-bitten dogs, right out my apartment entrance. The corner of the entrance of my building always has urine and vomit, there have been instances of excrement on the entry windowsill. I get heckled just to get down the block to Walgreens, “At the corner of Happy and Healthy”. No, indeed, this is the corner of crack and smack.
Sometimes, and I don’t know where it comes from, I get overwhelmed with a feeling that I am a fraud. That somehow I cheated my way to get where I am. If this were cheating, I wasn’t doing a very good job of it. I feel as if I’m being watched, and someone will uncover something that they can use against me and take away all that I have, including hope. Which isn’t much, but I’m grateful for what I have managed. I have not lied or cheated to get where I am, and yet it’s this feeling. And I feel that way today. I must remind myself to look around, and that I have a right to be here, to exist, and that I am secure and safe where I am. Somedays it’s hard to know that. Today is one of those days.I used to feel like this after days of drinking. I am not doing that right now, so I’m doubly baffled at why I’m feeling this way.
With all that is going on these days, I just wanted to say…
Planned Parenthood caught a thyroid disease very early on, and it saved my life. Planned Parenthood taught me to do self-breast examinations regularly, so I was able to catch my breast cancer at stage zero, it was caught before it left my milk duct. I am now cancer-free. I depended on Planned Parenthood for my annual exams and health care when I was younger. I have never had an abortion. I am a strong believer in the good Planned Parenthood does.
via Stone Devil Duke
I am eager to read this book. reading at night, before the construction noises quiet down, is one of my vices.
Last Tuesday I had a colonoscopy. Early Wednesday morning I was awakened by sharp, stabbing pains in my abdomen. I attended a neurology appointment before checking myself into the Emergency Room, on the advice of Dr Klein, the on-call doctor for that night/ early morning, as appointments with Neurology are hard to come by. Immediately after the neurology appointment (for severe, chronic headaches), I then went straight to the emergency room. I was treated, albeit without resolving the issue, and I was given a hastily written note for management of my building that I would not be fit to have my apartment inspected as scheduled. I was told to follow up with my Primary Care physician. I did so.
I was examined not only for the stabbing abdominal pains, but also for the chronic headaches. This was on 2/1/19. I was told to rest, and hopefully the stabbing pains, a result from the colonoscopy on Tuesday. I was also prescribed a medication for my headaches. I turned it in to the pharmacy Friday, 2/1/19. I was told this medication was not in stock and would have to be ordered, and would most likely be here on Monday.
Today, I went to the pharmacy at 8 am, and was told the shipment of orders of medications had not arrived yet, and that the pharmacy would call me when it had been filled. Approximately 2 1/2 hours later, I was notified that the drug prescribed to me by Dr Smith on Friday was no longer being manufactured.
I then wrote the manager of my apartment building, Troy Marcel, asking for touch up paint, as some places in my unit need touch up. I had noticed this before my colonoscopy. Given the complications since the colonoscopy, I was delayed in notifying the management that touch up was needed. I made a request today, 2/4/19, before a date has been set for a rescheduling of the inspection of my unit for said touch up paint, so I could make the repairs before the inspection, and not incur a 10-day notice, which would be used to precipitate my eviction, thus rendering me illegible for any section 8 subsidy in the future.
I was denied the request for touch up paint. This denial, and the above-mentioned consequences have not only exacerbated my headache, which is crippling at this point, it has also greatly affected my anxiety, my DISABILIY, to the point where I m not able to function rationally at this point.
I have reached out to the King County Veterans Program, The Alliance For People With disAbilities, my state representative’s office, and my therapist for support in this matter.
More to follow as the situation unfolds.
I had a minor procedure yesterday, and my roommate decided that he didn’t need to be sober to get us a taxi home. True. The procedure took a long time, but he didn’t mind, as he had a flask. sadly, there was no wifi for him, so he talked to everybody.
I was cranky when I came out, and decided I would not wait for him to get an Uber, as he was fumbling. It wasn’t a long walk, and it wasn’t cold. I started fixing myself some shrimp. He interfered, I resisted, and he left for the bar. I ate my dinner and went to bed.
I woke up to get my soda out of the fridge, and there was his shoe. Why? I did not ask. on the coffee table, there was a cola bottle with an inch of rum, and a bottle with another 2 inches of rum in it. I widened my view, looking for the Vicks, and spied an unopened bottle of wine.
I still ache all over, and am still coughing. My head hurts, and my roommate is still drunk.