Kiss5Tigers

The 5 Tigers represent the big things in life. This blog is about facing them.


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My Body

My body rather disgusts me. I really don’t like my body.

I am middle aged and fat (yes, over 250, I qualify as fat) and things don’t work the way they used to.

I have a rotator cuff injury to my right shoulder so I have somewhat limited range of motion.

I am going gray. Now it’s the gray you want to have, it’s a pretty gray, but I’d rather be a natural purple. Yes I know nobody is a natural purple, but since it’s not gonna happen, I can pick whatever color I like. I have tried coloring it, but really too much of a hassle.

I have too much tummy and no waist.

I have small boobs. Well, not so small, but only B cups so they don’t balance out the gut. Plus I have many years with no bra due to renaissance faires so they are saggy. They don’t like each other so I don’t have nice cleavage. Remember the old bra commercial, “It lifts and separates”? My bosoms would live in separate counties if they could manage it. Good bras make a difference, but I feel like I’m lying about how much I’ve been blessed with. If I ever have a boyfriend again, I’ll have to keep my bra on during sex.

That whole female bleeding thing. I’ve been dealing with it for over 40 years now, can it please stop? Please?

Speaking of goo, now that I’m older I have issues with incontinence. Sometimes I pee what I laugh or cough or sneeze. The cough has been an issue with the current round of allergy crap. And as a fat person, they don’t make pee panties in my size. Hey, Depends, I’m looking at you. Not to mention I don’t want to wear a pad all month long. Bad enough during shark week.

Now I have poop issues. I get the feeling I have to go, and damn I’d better go! There is no holding it. I have had to clean myself up in public rest rooms on more than one occasion. It’s embarrassing. Walking into the grocery store, asking where the ladies room is, with a load in my pants because I couldn’t control it. Can’t stand it. Horrifying.

And there is the facial hair. I don’t mean a little fuzz on the lip. I have PCOS which means my body fights me in annoying ways, and it has given me a full beard. I shave every day, just like my dad. I wanted to be like my dad when I was a kid, but not in this way. I would like to be able to go camping and not come out of the woods looking like Grizzly Adams. One day I will have the money for laser treatments, but until then, I’m stuck with the razor.

I am outliving my teeth. Now I didn’t expect to make it to 55. My parents died at 47 to cancer and heart trouble. I figured I’d die young also. But no, at the rate I’m going, I’ll see 90. My teeth however probably won’t. They simply break. I am dreadfully afraid of the dentist, and I can’t afford one that I’m not. I have a tender mouth and all the work is painful to me. I can’t pay for full anesthetic dentistry or I would.

And my eyes. I am near sighted to the point of almost legally blind. I am presbyopic which means I should have bifocals only they make me dizzy. And I am developing a cataract in my left eye. It will need surgery at some point, but until then I am seeing through a gray haze on that side.

Now I am really struggling here. My dislike of my body means I tend not to take care of it, though clearly taking care of it would make it less disgusting to me. Eating is an issue. Working out is an issue. Money for dentistry or laser hair removal is an issue.

In the meantime, I live in a physical world. I like to feel the cat’s soft fur. Chocolate tastes good. Color, the existence of color, is an exquisite gift. I knit and crochet, I love the fibers, the texture, the colors. Hugs are amazing. The smell of lilacs. All these things need a body to appreciate them.

Here is this tool that makes it possible to interact with the world, and it gives me the heebie-jeebies.

I escape into my mind, the world of ideas. I read. I think. I get online. It’s all intellectual because that doesn’t need a body. I can escape for a minute.

I am trying to learn to be good to my body. I’m trying to eat better. I go to the doctor a little more often. I want to work out, but it seems like a huge hassle. And yet I don’t want to be a little old lady in a wheelchair because I didn’t take care of myself at 50. I already suffer from not taking care of myself at 30.

So I will learn to accept this body, because it is the one I have. Because it isn’t healthy to hate oneself. Because there are enjoyable things about the physical world.

One day, we will make peace, my body and I.


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What a week! Part 2

Yep, life is eventful so I am late getting back to this.  What else is new?  I really do want to work on posting something every day or two, though.  Discipline is important, in writing as well as in regular life, and I could use a bit more focus.

Update:  3 weeks later and the bathroom is still dry, yay!  The apartment complex has stated they will get an actual certified plumber out here to fix the pipe itself but that hasn’t happened yet.  I asked them about it late last week and they are much more focused on a visit from the owners than on fixing this, which is frustrating, yet I do understand that if they’re going to pay a plumber that they’re going to wait until they have several jobs for him to do.  So far so good!

The other thing that was so frustrating about the lack of communication regarding maintenance coming by, was that I needed to go to Parkland Hospital to get my prescriptions refilled.  I don’t own a car, so that meant taking DART.

A word about DART:  I have lived in cities with good public transportation, eg. Boston.  Trains come frequently, they go most places you want to go and buses go pretty much everywhere else, it’s reliable and convenient.  Now I live in Dallas and I use DART, and I find the are not even close to as useful as Boston.  There are reasons for this, but it routinely takes me 2 hours to get where I need to go.

If I had a car, it would have been about half an hour, maybe less, to get to Parkland.  On DART, I had to take a bus to Addison Transit Center, take another bus to the Downtown Carrollton station.  I took the light rail to Southwest Medical Center / Parkland Station, then a shuttle to the hospital itself.  I left about 1:45, it was after 3 when I arrived.

I am poor enough that I have health care through Parkland directly.  It took them until December to even see me, but they did make it retroactive to cover some past bills and it’s good through March 31.  I rather naively assumed that I could take the bottles from my previous doctor – from spring of 2013 when I had a job and insurance and a GP of my very own – and simply get my prescriptions renewed.  Silly me!  In order to get the meds, I had to have a ‘script from an in-network doctor which meant a trip to Urgent Care.

Urgent Care is like Emergency except of course it’s for people who aren’t actually having emergencies.  So, nasty headcolds and swollen ankles, not so much heart attacks or gunshot wounds.  That means waiting.  It took about 40 minutes for me to get into triage, but at that point it got speedy for me.  The medicine I take is for high blood pressure and I had been without it since before Christmas so at that point my blood pressure was actually quite high, high enough to make the staff uncomfortable, high enough that they considered admitting me.  Well, I had been running for the shuttle in order to avoid waiting in the cold and I do have a slight murmur that acts up when I exert myself too much, but it always surprises me how long it takes my body to recover.  I was surprised that over an hour later, my numbers were still that high.

So I got to see the doctor fairly quickly and he looked at my old meds and he said a fairly surprising thing.  He said that he should probably send me to Emergency and have me admitted but it would take several hours for that to happen and then I’d be over night or longer.  Or, he could certainly renew my meds and I could leave AMA (Against Medical Advice) and come back if symptoms didn’t improve.  I realized that what he was telling me without actually saying it was that probably my “problem” was due to not having my meds and that admitting me was simply going to take extra time to provide the same result.  So I chose to leave with prescriptions.

I went back to the pharmacy at about 5:30, and was told it would take a good 90 minutes to fill my ‘scripts.  Since the pharmacy officially closes at 7:00, I did verify that they stopped taking new customers at 7 but they would finish all existing orders before closing completely.  I hadn’t eaten since 11:00 am and I had an hour and a half, so I went to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria has about 5 different food stations for various types of food ranging from salads to burgers to Mexican to a hot meal.  I imagine at lunch time the place is fully stocked but at dinner there is only the hot meal section open and they have a very limited menu.  I chose chicken fingers and mashed potatoes.  I thought about a salad, but a one cup prepackaged salad cost as much as the rest of it so I didn’t get it.  Remember that I am poor now so dollars are a big deal, and I still had to pay for my meds.  I got a cup of water and sat down to eat.  About two bites into my meal, I felt something hard in my mouth.  At first I thought it was a piece of chicken bone but as I shifted it around to get it where I could spit it out, I realized it was ceramic.

I have one piece of ceramic-y stuff in my mouth.  One of my eyeteeth is a baby tooth that never came out, and once upon a time my Uncle Jack who was a dentist before he retired had put a cap on it so that it wouldn’t look so out of place in my mouth.  Apparently the mashed potato was too much for the tooth and it finally broke, cap and all.

So back to Urgent Care for me.

The nurse was not happy to see me.  One of my concerns when I was there earlier was timing for getting home.  Working backwards, it looked like this:  The last 361 bus through my neighborhood from Addison Transit Center was at 11:00 pm.  In order the get there, I had to catch the 400 bus from Downtown Carrollton station at 10:34 at the latest.  Buses are every hour at that time of day, so I really wanted to catch the 9:34 if possible to be sure the connection worked.  If the 400 was even 5 minutes late, then I would miss the 361 and it would be a bitch of a walk home late at night in the cold.  Train takes about 30 minutes to make that trip, and although it comes only every half hour at that time of night, there are 2 lines on that section of track so it’s a little more frequent.  Plus I had to allow time for the shuttle.  So pretty much I needed to be on my way by about 8:15 to be really comfortable with the schedule for getting home and that means waiting to be seen made me edgy.  The admitting nurse wasn’t happy about that earlier, and she was a bit sarcastic to see me back.

Fortunately it was shift change and the late nurse was very understanding.  He fast-tracked me and got me seen in less than an hour with a referral for a dental visit.  I haven’t done anything about that at this time, because pretty much the option is leave the broken tooth or pull it, Parkland doesn’t cover orthodontic repair.  It has always been a debate whether to cap that baby tooth or pull it and brace me to rearrange the remaining teeth, so this isn’t a huge loss to me although now I have a hole in the front of my mouth.  I figure I just need to do the pulling and braces at this point, but since Parkland doesn’t cover the braces, I’m loathe to remove the remaining root and have my teeth shift on their own.  I’m not in pain and I’ll have health insurance again in April, so it feels like I can wait.

And I did make it home in time, so that was good.

But with 3 inches of gray hair and a missing tooth, that makes it pretty hard to make a good impression when looking for a job.

(There is so much more to this story, but my daughter needs me and this is getting long, so . . . )