Tofu hot dogs look like normal hot dogs and taste like normal hot dogs, but they have a texture all their own. Weird, man. And then there's the bean-like after taste. Again, weird.

I'm hoping to get someone from another team to switch with me so that I can work next Saturday and end up having this Monday off. That way I'll be able to spend more time with my friends in Colombus this weekend. Yay!

I finally got my evaluation back at work. I'm officially a full time employee now and I get insurance! The forms are upstairs awaiting my completion. Note to self: Complete insurance forms tomorrow evening or your head will explode.

Fruit is some of the most wonderful stuff on Earth. Especially grapes. White seedless grapes are the bomb! And Special K Red Berries is the food of the gods!

Anyway, I'm really enjoying this new Weight Watchers point counting diet that Ben and I have adopted. I get to eat the stuff that I love like sandwiches, veggies, cereal, and fruit. :) Yum!

My back hurts. Ben and I played raquetball this evening and I think I must've twisted funny or something. I learned that I play raquetball better when in a bad mood. I tend to hit the ball harder that way.

Ben got me a massage book for Christmas and I've learned how to do the back leg massage, a few back massage techniques, and a few arm and hand massage techniques. If only I could massage my own back right now. :(

I'm going to bed. Goodnight and I love you all!

One of my former patients called me yesterday just to say hi. He had transfered to a clinic in another city that is closer to his home. He told me that he was doing well now...he makes more money than I do at his new job and has better benefits! :) And he hasn't used any drugs since he entered treatment. When he first came to the clinic he reported suicidal ideations, however now he says that he's so excited about his life that he would never dream of throwing it away. :)

I was so happy to talk to him and to hear that the program is actually working for him. He told me that he likes his new clinic okay, but he misses me. He told me that his new counselor just doesn't seem to be willing to take the time to talk to him like I would and that he wished that I was still his counselor. Hearing him say that was very rewarding. He made my day! :)

So I guess I'm doing something right some of the time at least. :)

New Year's Resolution(s) Progress Report

Ben and I did the Adkins diet for a bit, but we decided that we couldn't take one more day of eating greasy meats!!!! (Ben actually was the one to crumble this time around.) I lost 7lbs on it. (Not a bad start, I suppose.) But it's not worth the amount of disgust that eating an all meat diet provokes.

So, now Ben and I are doing the Weight Watchers thing. (Basically, keeping our calorie intake pretty low.) And we've started exercising again. We're playing (or attempting to play) raquetball 3 times per week. After I do the raquetball thing for about 30 minutes, I've been doing cardiovascular stuff for an additional 30 minutes and then doing 3 sets of light weight on my biceps and my quads to tone. So far, I'm still at the same weight as when I stopped Mr. Adkin's diet. I plan on upping my exercise regiment to 5 days a week. I'll be sure to brag on any progress that I make in lessening the Earth's gravitational pull upon my being.

One resolution underway, three more to go.

Today I decided to call around and price guitar playing lessons. The cheapest I found was $15 per lesson for 4 lessons a month. The most expensive was $17.50 per lesson, however the $17.50 guy seemed really cool. He talked to me for a few minutes and I found myself already liking him. He put me at ease and it's very important that a teacher be able to do that. Especially when you're a stubborn ass bitch who embarrasses fairly easy and you're putting yourself in a vulnerable position by trying to learn something new and important to you. I know I will fail on occasion and I need to be comfortable failing in front of whom ever is teaching me. (Pride is a funny thing.) He said that he wouldn't be able to take a new student for a couple of weeks. I'll have to think it over a bit.

Anyway, I suppose Resolution 2 could be underway in the near future. As for Resolution 3 & 4...well...those are going to take some time...that's all I know right now.

Tune in for more exciting updates in the life of Chris G.

"You don't see what I see every day as Chris G."

Happy Valentine's Day!

I went to a wedding today. A guy from work and a gal that I used to work with tied the knot today. It was a lovely, small ceremony and afterwards we went to dinner at the Marriott. The wedding was so emotional: Andre started crying as he saw her walking down the aisle...Stefanie started crying as she was saying her vows...everyone cried when the bride's 10 year old daughter, Alexa, gave her away (except for me, callous and bitter wench that I am). Also at the reception the groom read a poem and declaration of love that he had composed for the bride and they both were crying through that. :)

I'm happy for them because they seem so in love and so happy together. Love and happiness are very fragile things. I hope that they learn how to make it last throughout their lifetimes.

Here's to the newly wed Andre and Stefanie Nazario!

A dream

In my dream, my friends Stephanie and Nikki came to visit me at my parent's home in Eccles. Nikki had picked Stephanie up in her father's big, red Ford 250. It's a nice truck really...it even has one of those truck toppers on it so that you can put groceries and things back there without fear of them being stolen. Anyway, they arrived and we all had dinner and sat around and talked. My entire immediate family was there also. After dinner Stephanie asked to borrow Nikki's truck so that she could go and check on her husband and her kids and then come right back. This is impractical because Steph and her husband live 30 minutes away from my parent's home. She really should have just called them to check on them. However, we didn't think it odd in the dream and she took the keys and was gone for a while and then returned.

Steph came back in and pulled Nikki aside and said, "I need to talk to you. Come outside with me." They went outside and a few minutes later Nikki came back in, her skin pale, eyes wide, mouth gaping, and her breathing terse. I immediately grew concerned and asked her what was wrong. Steph came in the house at that moment and said that we should go back to my bedroom to talk. So we all filed down the hall to my old bedroom.

Once back there Nikki burst out, "She has a dead man in the back of the truck! She cut off his hand! Oh my god, Christina! Oh god! Oh god!" And then she started sobbing and sat down on the bed with her hands covering her face. I look at Nikki in disbelief and then look up at Steph who calmly reached into her purse and pulled out something wrapped in a small white towel. There was fresh blood on one end of the towel. She unwrapped the bundle and there was a man's left hand. Through my shock and horror I noticed that the hand wore a wedding band...a wedding band that matched Stephanie's. She had killed her husband, Derek.

My legs gave out and I sank down to the floor. I was nauseous and dizzy and I felt that I couldn't breathe. Nikki still sat sobbing and Stephanie stood looking down at us, that dead hand held in hers, and she was disturbingly calm. I asked her why and she said that she just couldn't take it anymore. She then announced that we had to bury him. Nikki and I didn't question this, but immediately started trying to think of places where we could dispose of the remains. Nikki kept saying, "I've got to go home tonight. Oh god, that's my dad's truck! He's gonna kill me! We've got to get rid of it!" She was still crying. I suggested one area on Bolt Mountain and we decided to go and check it out and look for the perfect spot to hide the remains of the dead husband. (Who was, by the way, a former boyfriend of mine. But that's another story.)

We decided to drive my car down to Bolt Mountain. We didn't want to get pulled over with a dead body in the back, after all. So we went and found a good location away from the road and very secluded and then we began our drive back to Eccles. On the way back the shock started to wear off and I realized that I didn't have to help her do this. I realized that I should, in fact, call the police. Then the internal struggle began. Should I help one of my dear friends whom I've known since I was eight years old? Or should I do the right thing and call the police? Was I willing to become a criminal and endanger my freedom for this girl? I considered Derek. He was not an easy person to be with, by any means. He was very controlling and obsessive about certain things...one of those being Stephanie's weight. He constantly told her she looked fat so that she would exercise and diet like mad and stay in shape. As a result, she did stay in shape but she had a twisted self-image. He also did not tell her that he had genital herpes before having sex with her...so he gave them to her. Nice, eh? (I'm so glad our relationship never got that far! Thank God for my 17 year-old inexperience and desire to remain a virgin until marriage!) However, these were not reasons to kill a man. Divorce him, perhaps, but not to take his life. I came to my sense and decided I could not help her and I had to convince Nikki of the same.

We returned to my house and I told Steph to sit and talk to my family while Nikki and I gathered up shovels and things that we would need for our task. She agreed. Once Nik and I were outside I told her that we were not going to help Steph and that we needed to call the police. She was still in shock, eyes still wide and looking dazed, but she pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number. I took the phone from her and said that I wanted to report a murder. The murderer and the murdered were at my home and help needed to arrive as quickly as possible.

We went back inside and whispered to Steph that we needed to visit with my family awhile so that they wouldn't think anything was up. She went along with it. While she was talking to my mother in the kitchen, I informed my dad and brother of the situation and let them know that we needed to keep her engaged in conversation and distracted until the police arrived.

They arrived about 30 minutes later and handcuffed her. She looked at me with very sad eyes and said, "I just couldn't take it anymore." I nodded and smiled and waved goodbye as tears welled up in my eyes. And then she was out the door and being led toward the police cruiser. I broke down crying thinking of all of the wonderful times we had shared as children. Another cop came in and said that no one else was allowed to leave until we had all been questioned. There were several officers surrounding Nikki's dad's truck, taking photographs and making notes. They sat me down to be questioned, I began my story, and then I woke up.

Murder, murder, murder. At least this time I made the right choice. I hope this dream isn't at all prophetic. I'm a little worried honestly. You see, after I dated Derek (Steph's husband) for two weeks, I knew that he wasn't for me. To let him down easier I decided to fix him up with Stephanie. On the day they were introduced, they hit it off wonderfully and they were holding hands by the evening. That evening as we were eating dinner, I glanced at their intertwined hands on the table and remembered a dream that I had had of that particular vision. The dream consisted only of that image and one thought...these two people will get married. I blurted out, "You two are going to get married." This was their first time meeting...it wasn't even a date really...so they both blushed and smiled at the suggestion and said I was crazy. Six months later I attended their wedding. Was it my suggestion that caused them to want to marry? Or was my dream truly prophetic? I think the latter.

Now with this new dream, I hope it's just all simply wild imagination. And it actually felt like that's what it was. It was too long and detailed to be prophetic. All of the dreams that I've had that have come to pass have only been glimpses...very short and not very detailed. Usually when I have them I wake up thinking, "What the hell was that? That didn't make any sense!" At any rate, I might call Steph and advise her not to kill Derek if she's unhappy. That's what friends are for, I suppose. To keep each other from murdering their significant others. :)

It's a Sad, Sad World

You know, it's pretty sad when I find myself reading my own blog for entertainment. Yup.

You know what else is sad? I turned on the TV yesterday (and this morning) and saw an infomercial for a new piece of exercise equipment that is truly only a 4 inch wide, 3 feet long piece of stretchy material. This fabulously buff woman was in a room of other fabulously buff women walking in place with this thing wrapped behind their backs, an end of it in each hand with arms extending and and contracting. The main fabulous woman was talking about how in just a few weeks YOU TOO CAN LOOK AS GOOD AS I DO, IF ONLY YOU PURCHASE THIS PRODUCT!!!!! What a crock of shite! :) Go to the goddamn gym people! Don't send this silly wench $35.95 for a strip of friggin' material!!!!

You know what else is sad? Me. Cause I miss my friends. :(

In the Pope's Rubber Robe

Since my sister's divorce in 1998, she's gone through a sort of second adolescence. She has been trying out new identities and by this process attempting to make the transformation from Rose, devoted and doting wife, to Rose, single and thirty-something single gal.

Over the past couple of years, she's startled me more than a few times during this process. First she actually started drinking and getting trashed with her friends, which blew my mind because she had been a very devout Protestant Christian for...well...ever since I've known her. The next step was piercing her ears several times. Then she got a tatoo on her ass of a little heart with an american flag in it. Then she asked me to take nude and sexy photographs of her to send to her love interest at the time who was in the military and stationed somewhere near Afghanistan. Next came the belly piercing. But that was the extend of her odd behavior...until today. :)

She just called and informed me that she was converting to Catholicism. She's been attending a Catholic church in Baltimore and says that she feels at peace after she attends a service and she really wants to become part of it all. Don't get me wrong. I fully support her decision and am open to all religions...but, truth be told, I'm still in shock! I suppose expected her to go a little wild after her divorce...but I never expected her to convert to another religion! wow.

Well, here's to God, the Pope, and my sister...may they find what they're looking for in each other. :)

"And if I lose my Cracker Jacks at the tidal wave
I got a place in the Pope's rubber robe
Muhammad my friend
It's time to tell the world
We both know it was a girl
Back in Bethlehem"

~ Tori Amos from Muhammad My Friend

I have been possessed by the spirit of Nancy Reagan. "Just Say No!" Wait a minute...she's not dead. Hmmm...

Visualize This

A man told me today that he can't piss standing up due to his back pain. (He has a slipped disc or something in his back...not a dick slipped in his back as Pat thought I said.) He went on to say that due to the constant pain he was unable to fully empty his blatter because he would clinch against the pain and that would cause that sphincter to close. But now that he's come to the clinic, he told me that he can empty his bladder. He was excited about it and I'm happy for him. I try not to take my youth and current good health for granted...people like this guy put it all into perspective for me.

Anyway sharing all of this with me was necessary, I suppose, so that I could understand the nature of his illness and pain. I'm flattered that he felt comfortable enough with me to talk about such a possibly embarrassing issue. However, he really didn't need to go into such detail as to describe how he must "push" when he's trying to go to the bathroom. He even sat in the patient chair and demonstrated how he must sit on the toilet for anything to "move" for him. This was entirely unnecessary and now I have the mental image of this man sitting on the toilet burned permanently in my memory. Lovely.

Blue Body Scrub Thingie

A couple of days ago I found, hidden under the shower curtain in a corner of my bathroom floor, a medium sized light blue body scrubbie thingie. I know it's not mine or Ben's, so it must belong to one of my guests from the holiday. So I say to the owner of this item, if you want the scrubbie thingie back, I will keep it in a very safe place for you until I see you again and can return it. If, however, you do not have any attachment to the light blue scrubbie thing, please let me know and I will dispose of it in an environmentally sound manner.

I'm tired. My job just seems to be getting more stressful with each passing day. My case load is now 63 patients. And there's just so fucking much to keep track of...it's wearing me thin. :) And the patients themselves, dear Jupiter! But now I'm going to tell you a story:

Today, I received an anonymous phone call from someone reporting that they had seen my patient, high as a frigging kite, playing in traffic. The caller was a friend, she said. She was an older woman who was genuinely concerned about my patient's health. I'm guessing it was a mother or an aunt. She reported that my pt. had taken her methadone that day plus some benzodiazepines, barbituates, and some other substance that the pt. claimed would cause all of this stuff not to show up in her urine drug screens.

Benzos and barbs are classifiied as central nervous system depressants. They are typically used to sedate a person to treat anxiety, etc. Methadone, when taken with certain other drugs, will enhance the effects of those other drugs. Benzos and barbs are extremely dangerous to take with methadone. Mixing a high enough dosage of the two will cause a patient's heart and breathing to slow to a dangerous level and will either put them in a coma or kill them. A patient at our clinic just lost his girlfriend two weeks ago because she decided to see what would happen if she took his methadone and a few benzos. Basically, my patient is running a high risk of killing herself if she doesn't change her behavior soon.

Talk about a stressful situation. She wants to get off drugs very much...she basically has to or she loses her husband and her children. I don't blame the guy for leaving. I would do the same if I were in his situation, I'm sure. But I want her to succeed so that she can save her marriage and be a mother to her children! The problem is that she just can't break out of this old pattern of behavior. She's my age...I could be her if I had made different choices. It's hurting me that I can't help her...she simply won't let me. I've spoken with her once about the dangers of mixing other medications with methadone. I'm going to talk to her again tomorrow. I certainly hopes she heeds my warnings. I really don't want to read her obituary any time soon.

Shawn and Chris talked about drug use and substance abuse in their blogs this week. I smoked a fair amount of "wacky weed" back in the day, I've hit acid before, and I've drunk myself to the point of oblivion and extremely unattractive stupidity. But I've never once taken any pills, snorted anything, or shot anything up. I was and am too fucking afraid of addiction and of what I would become. Unlike my boys, I don't fear letting out the deep dark things hidden in me. They're really not that deep or dark. :) I've always had only a sort of constant underlying melancholy...not a raging demon waiting to leap out and devour whomever it may. What I fear, I think, is losing control of who I am...letting something else take control of my life. I realize now that my fear is well founded...and just may have saved my silly ass from a very different lifestyle.

My experiences working with drug addicts have taught me a few other things:

The first being not to pass judgement on anyone. (Yes, this is something we all try to do and say we do but our society is designed in such a way that we are constantly comparing things to determine what is "right" and what is "wrong, what is "good" or "bad". We learn and understand our world through judging and comparison. We understand ourselves and our roles in society by comparing ourselves with others. So we all judge daily.) The events that lead many of my patients to drug addiction could just as easily have happened in my life. I just got lucky and was gifted with wonderful parents who helped me to make the right choices and helped me to develop a strong will.

The second thing I've learned is not to trust anyone when it comes to taking drugs. I've had people tell me of how their best friends, even their family members have given them drugs laced with something else and didn't tell them until it was too late. You can really never know if friend or even the dealer didn't lace that joint that they're passing you with cocaine or angel dust.

The third and greatest lesson I've learned is that substance abuse of every kind can destroy your life and the lives of those you love the most. I've met people who's mothers, fathers, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins won't talk to them because of their past actions under the influence of drugs. I've met people who've lost all family, their husbands/wives, boyfriends/girlfriends, children, friends, jobs, vehicles, homes, and all their possessions due to substance abuse. A few of them have only the clothes on their backs and their lives. They somehow gather up the $12.50 it takes to dose daily at the clinic. And that's their world.

I experiemented with those few things when I was younger, and as little as 6 months ago I was probably even open to experimenting a bit more. But not now. Not after all of the shit I've seen and the broken lives that I'm faced with daily.

My message, in short, is please don't do drugs. There are dangerous substances out there that can take control of you without you even realizing it. Just don't go there. :) That way you won't have to worry about doing crazy shit like screaming disturbing things out at downtown bars or asking pretty girls to shoot you with your own gun. :)

Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his disposal. Drugs, alcohol, or lies. Unable to withdraw into himself, he disguises himself. Lies and inaccuracy give him a few moments of comfort. ~ Jean Cocteau

Change

Patterns. Repetition. Habit.

We wake up every morning, We shower, and we go to work. We work and we come home and eat. We do dishes or laundry. We watch TV or screw around online and then go to bed and do it all again. Over and over and over.

There are men and women who go to jobs they hate every day. And they come home to children and spouses who are strangers because they don't have time to spend with them because of these time consuming jobs that they hate. But they don't change it because it's the pattern that they have fallen into. There are women and men who go to sleep every night lonely because they also have fallen into the pattern of being alone. There are men who are no longer in love with their wives and women who are no longer in love with their husbands but they stay because they have so much time and effort invested. And because that is the pattern that they have fallen into.

There comes a time in all of our lives when we are ready for change...when we need to break the pattern. But we realize that change is difficult and painful to bring about in ourselves and our lives, especially when there are others involved.

We must die to one life before we can enter another. ~ Anatole France

Ice

A thin later of ice has formed over the river near my apartment. The snow that fell today and earlier this week has formed a pristine, white blanket over the ice. There are a few areas where the ice does not meet in the middle and the freezing waters reflect the iron grey of the sky. It's so beautiful and still and silent. I'd never seen a river freeze until now. And they say the cold is just beginning. :)

The ice is thin...come on dive in...underneath my lucid skin...the cold is lost...Forgotten. ~ Sarah McLachlan

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we
leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we
can enter another.

Anatole France

I received a nickname today at work.

Patrick, Kevin, and Eric have decided to call me Aeon Flux...and I'm not really sure why. I certainly don't resemble the scantily clad spy and assassin. And I don’t die at the end of every workday so I’m not sure of how they made the connection.

I asked them if they planned on killing me every day and they paused for a moment. It was only a moment, but still…it was a pause. A considering pause. As if they were thinking, could we actually get away with arranging her death and then successfully resuscitating her daily?

Anyway, this led to a lengthy discussion of the Aeon Flux shorts from Liquid Television and now I’ve a desire to watch them all over again. I wonder if there exists somewhere an Aeon Flux DVD?

Other news…..

One of the counseling supervisors, Val, threw away my lunch today. She was cleaning out the fridge first thing this morning and decided to throw out anything that “looked old”. Well my chicken quesadillia from last night was a few hours old, I admit, but not old enough to be thrown away! When I confronted her she wasn’t in the slightest bit apologetic…and this pissed me off.

She just said: “Well people always bring stuff in and leave it and I was just cleaning the fridge out because I couldn’t fit my lunch in the fridge for all the shit other people had in there.”

And so I said: “But I just brought that in this morning…that was my lunch.”

And she continued to try and justify her action and remained defensive. I said “okay” and walked away…and then brought it up in a meeting with another supervisor later. I didn’t name names but just stated that the cleaning of the fridge needed to have policy made about it to avoid future problems such as the one I had experienced that morning. I suggested that it be cleaned out every Friday evening by which ever team was pulling cleanup duties that week.

Apparently gossip spreads through that place like wildfire and Val came to my office apologizing and gave me three bucks to make up for the lost lunch.

Too much drama!!! And the worst thing is that I know, even though she was all smiles at the end of the day, I’ve made an enemy. Drama.

Jeepers but I was bleak yesterday! And yes Shawn, perhaps I was being a bit melodramatic. :) But...I don't know...maybe not. Nothing and I mean NOTHING could comfort me yesterday. I did, however, finally find peace after a night's sleep and another days hard work at the methadone clinic. :) So all's well that ends well and all that rot.

Better Than Yesterday

So...what exactly broke my gloom today? It certainly wasn't waking up to discover that I was already 23 minutes late for work. :) Yup, I overslept. Fun, fun, fun. But at work today I was actually able to make a difference! Yay! One of my patients had stopped attending the clinic and I called him last Friday to check up on him and to see if he intended to return. During our phone conversation I learned that his grandparents had been paying for his treatment and they could no longer afford to pay for the 2 and 1/2 hours of travel to the clinic daily. He had gradually taken his last few doses of methadone, and had eventually run out. He admitted to me that he had broken down a few days ago and purchased and snorted some Oxycontin because the withdrawal was too intense. I convinced him to return to the clinic and told him I would do everything in my power to help him. The important thing was that he return to treatment.

Well he came back yesterday and I attempted to get my Program Director to grant him exception take home doses considering his financial situation. No luck. I tried a few other things which all met with failure. That was one of the reasons I was so bummed yesterday. I promised someone that I could help them and the system didn't work like it was supposed to. Someone placed hope in me and I was unable to help them. That killed me.

Today I gave it one last shot. I decided to call and plead with the Program Director of a facility closer to his home and ask that he be allowed to transfer to that clinic. I knew that the clinic in question was filled to capacity and was accepting no new patients, however I thought it was worth a try. And it turns out that it was. The P.D. allowed me to send him up to be transfered. The kid will now only have to drive 30 minutes to treatment vs. the 2 and 1/2 hours he was driving to our clinic. The important thing is that he will be in treatment and not out buying and doing shit off the street. :) And that was my little victory today. Yes it's a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. :)

One of my co-workers asked me to be in his band after overhearing me singing in the chart room. The "band", which as of yet only has 4 members (two singers, a drummer, and a pianist/keyboard player) and has yet to play anywhere, is called Midget in a Box. I said yes because the name is so fucking cool. :) And because it would be hilarious to be the gigantic front woman of a band called Midget in a Box! It's just going to be a cover band, but cover bands get paid for playing. And if I'm a member of that cover band I would get paid for doing something I really enjoy doing. Groovy. :) It'll probably never come to be, but it's a fun idea to entertain.

I received an invitation to apply to grad school at Northwestern State University in Louisiana. I don't know jack-shit about this school but I might apply for kicks...although I'm not that nuts about moving that far from the people that I love. The university is located in a town called Natchitoches, Louisiana. It took me 5 tries to pronounce the town name properly (or at least in a way I am assuming is proper). Now how the hell am I supposed to live in a town when I can't even pronounce the town name? People would ask me where I live and I'd have to give them my zip code! :) "Hello! Me? Oh, I live in 71497. And you?"

I'm going to keep this short...because I'm too exhausted to write much...but I feel the need to write something.

Today was a stressful day. I'm still stressed and it's 9:25PM and I'm dreading my return to work tomorrow.

Right now I just want someone to hold me and tell me that it's going to be okay...and I want to believe them.

When I was a child my mother would comfort me in this way. But it doesn't seem to work anymore. Because I don't have enough faith in anybody or anything right now to believe it.

HAPPY 26TH BIRTHDAY TO CHRIS!

HAPPY 60TH BIRTHDAY TO DIANA, MY MOTHER!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU TWO!!! HURRAY!!!!

Little did I know, when I last blogged, how strongly Disease had sunk her claws into me. Little did I know that I would end up leaving many offerings for the Porcelaine Goddess before the next day was through.

I was sick all Tuesday morning and Ben got worried and made me go to the doctor. I tried to tell him that it was a waste of money as I was sure that I just had two nasty viruses that hit me at once. He would not concede. So anyway I waited two hours at Health Plus for a doctor to tell me that I had two viruses stacked on top of each other. How terribly insightful! He gave me a shot in my hip for the nausea and sent me on my way...after charging me $117.

Yesterday I tried to get up to go to work but the world starting spinning half-way through my shower. I decided it was probably best to rest and get a little more hydrated before galavanting off again. After all, I didn't need another disease stacked on top of the overwhelming two that I already had accumulated.

Today I actually managed to make it back to work. (I even worked two hours over because I'm just that psycho and pathetic!) And upon my return I was confronted with one of the saddest, most shocking, and thought provoking scenarios that I've encountered in quite some time. But in order for the story to have full effect I suppose I should start from the beginning.

One of my patients, whom we'll call Alice, came to see me for the first time a few weeks ago. She was very upset because she had been downphased or had lost all of her take home doses. Take home doses are a privilege patients earn over time at the clinic by displaying good behavior, good attendance, and by providing clean urine drug screens. Alice had earned 6 take home doses and only had to attend the clinic once per week. Well, that is until she returned to the clinic one week with some pertinent information scratched off of the labels of her bottles. This is considered tampering and is a big no-no with methadone and can be indicative of diversion/selling of medication. She had had a previous offense of loss of one of her bottles and so she was deemed unworthy of the clinic's trust and all of her take home privileges were removed.

So Alice threw a temper tantrum in my office and demanded that I give her take home doses back and all I could do was explain to her why they were removed and tell her to live with it. She stated that she didn't know how she would manage to hold her job with this inconvenience, that he life was ruined etc. Anyway a few days before the New Year, she came to me and apologized for acting as she did and then she told me that she'd had a premonition. Now this is where it gets weird. She said that she had a feeling that she was going to be involved in a car accident and she wanted to make sure that her parents could gain access to her records if she were killed or severely injured. I told her that she could sign a release of information allowing her parents access to her records and she was pleased and told me that she would do it on the following day.

Well she didn't come back to see me that week and I assumed she had forgotten. But after returning back to work on January 6th, I learned that she had been involved in an auto accident on January 3rd. Creepy, eh? She was hospitalized for 12 days and she returned to the clinic today. The program director paged me to his office half-way through the morning and I thought, "Oh god, what now! Did I screw up or something? Am I in trouble?" I walked up to his office and there in his office was Alice, and she looked great except that she now only had one arm. I tried not to look but my eyes were drawn to the new stump. I said, "Oh, Alice! I'd heard you were in an accident! I'm glad to see you back." I was thinking, "Oh my god, you've lost your arm! How can you be so brave and smiling?"

And she was brave and smiling. She greeted me with a gentle smile and a peace that I really couldn't understand. How could she not be angry and crying and in the torture that I imagine I would be in if I were in her situation? As I talked with her she told me of how she had been riding home from the clinic with a friend when the car hydroplaned and flipped three times. Her arm was nearly cut off and she would have bled to death if it had not been for her friend ripping off his t-shirt and doing his best to stop the flow of blood. She survived and they tried to save her arm, but eventually gangrene set in and that was that. She told me that even though it seemed she had lost so much she had gained so much more because she had given her life to God. She said that she had been happier over the past two weeks (in spite of the loss of an appendage) than she had in her entire life. And she was so at peace and so accepting and so happy! It blew my mind! She said that she figured she had strayed so far from God that he needed something really drastic to get her attention. With her drug use she had thought that she was as low as she could go, but apparently she was not. She grew even happier when I informed her that she'll be able to transfer to a clinic closer to her home more quickly because of the fact that she was downphased (lost her take home doses) last month. Her reply was, "The Lord works in mysterious ways."

The whole situation is so strange to me. Now I've been around religious people my entire life. My mother and grandmother used to blame all the misfortunes they encountered on Satan trying to hinder them and they attributed all fortunate things to God and his protection. When trying to make sense of Alice's happiness and peace, my first thought was along the lines that she's clutching on to her faith in God to help her handle this situation...to keep her from going insane. She needs to believe right now that things happen for a reason, so she can go on and not be a bitter person due to losing her arm. One might look at the situation and note that she might have never lost her arm if it weren't for the loss of her take home doses, because she probably wouldn't have been traveling that particular stretch of road at that time on that day if it weren't for that. In the end we could determine that she just had a really shitty string of luck. But I find myself not wanting to believe that...because it's such a lonely and cruel way for things to be. My mother would probably say, "How do you know that she wouldn't have been involved in an accident with the same result if she traveled any road that day? Perhaps it was just meant to be?" Perhaps. But we can never know for certain. And that's where that thing called faith comes in. That thing that I don't have much of anymore.

I was commenting to Shawn when he was in this past weekend that I feel something missing inside of me. And that missing piece is belief. I don't know what I believe anymore. Maturity and my college education taught me to question everything and so I pulled every belief I held apart. Eventually I was left with believing in only things that I could see or that were verifiable...but those things tend to lend no comfort and no peace. And I find myself wanting comfort and peace.

Yes, my friends. Disease still runs rampant through this vessel like so many evil flem gremlins at play. She fills my lungs with mucus and wracks my body with coughing and pain.

Ever since I got back from Lexington I’ve had the nastiest cough known to mankind. I kid you not, I actually had a 45-minute coughing session at work during which the entire staff got concerned and the program director came to my side and was rubbing my back. Talk about embarrassing.

So now the cold that was beneficial in covering my ass and convincing my employers and co-workers that I truly was ill last Monday and Tuesday when I decided to skip work to be with my friends, has become a pain in the neck. Literally.

Ben keeps telling me that he thinks it’s something more serious than a cold and keeps tossing up tuberculosis as the possible diagnosis. I’m not coughing up blood yet, but there’s always tomorrow. :)

So I’m sitting here at my keyboard in my nightshirt and big, fluffy man’s robe with my heater blazing at my feet just letting the tiredness wash over me. Unwinding. My {Dsmbr by Linkin Park is playing softly on Windows Media Player and I can feel my eyes growing heavier.

This is my December, These are my snow covered dreams
This is me pretending, this is all I need

And right now I’m not gonna think about all the bills I need to pay tomorrow. And right now I’m not gonna think about all the debts that are owed to me and the debts that I owe. And I’m not gonna worry about the future. I’m just going to be here as I am and love this moment of tired, peaceful solitude.

And so comes the New Year.

Here I am surrounded by my friends and feeling fairly content. And fairly dehydrated. :) To celebrate the New Year, I consumed a wee bit too much alcohol last night. :) There are huge blank spots in my memory and frankly, I'm glad. My behavior during those moments was reportedly atrocious. I was told that I insulted my boyfriend's sexual prowess, yelled at people, and was generally a bitch. I'm so embarrassed! I've never blacked out like that before. I've done stupid things in the past when I've been drunk, but I've always fucking remembered it! But this? This is scary shit.

So I spent the entire morning learning of all of the nasty things I'd said and done throughout the course of the night and repeatedly apologizing for them. I feel so horrible! Another reason why I don't really drink all that often anymore. I don't like losing control over my actions. I don't like waking up with drunken unknown injuries, also known as DUIs. :) In the future I'm going to reach that nice buzz level and stay there. No more of this crazy drink all you can shit.

Of course, the drinking games that we played were a factor in that. High - Low and Fuck the Dealer got me fucked up real quick like. Never again. Or at least not for a very long time. :)

But it wasn't all bitchiness and badness. There was a lot of hilarity and actually a very nice emotional bonding session in the morning. Poor sappy drunks coming down off of their highs discussing the celebration of Christmas, religion, family, logic, death, and the necessity of belief in something. It was an enlightening conversation. And I was reminded of something very important this morning. I need to respect the requests of others...I need to not be so selfish as to force my desires upon others. Everyone has the right to chose their own path and the purest act of love and caring is to not hinder a person in his or her chosen path. I will not forget this again.

As for New Years resolutions...a couple of my friends refuse to make them. Perhaps theirs is the right way of thinking. How often have I accomplished a New Year's resolution? I can't even recall. They're simply promises...promises that you make to yourself. Do I really need another broken promise in my life? No. But I'm still making a resolution. I'm just going to keep this promise this time. Well...promises actually. Resolution # 1: I'm going to lose all of the Taco Bell and McDonald's and Pizza Hut that's hanging on around my waist and thighs. Resolution # 2: I'm going to learn to play the guitar simply because I want to. Resolution # 3: I'm going to find myself again and make peace with who I am. Resolution # 4: I'm going to pick my path...and not simply stumble along blindly as I have been doing for the past several years.
So now there's a written record of my resolutions. If I fail there are some that will know and will perhaps hold me accountable. And these things may not be attainable within one years time...but I will try.

Here's to friends, family, and the future. My wish is for a new year full of stimulation, growth, positive change, as much happiness as possible, and as much pain as necessary to teach us all what it is that we need to learn. And so it begins...

As far as I know I'm not pregnant. I really don't know how I would handle that right now. There's so much emotional instability within me...I'm simply not committed enough to become a mother at this time.

My friends are in for New Years. We played games all evening and exchanged gifts. It's nice to see Chris, Shawn, Ken, and Leslie again. I only wish that Pat could have made it. :( Perhaps we will see him sometime this summer? I hope so. :)

Thoughts right now....I'm not really feeling up to entering grad school this semester. I'm still emotionally drained from all of the shit Ben and I have been through. I wonder how long it takes for such an exhaustion to heal? Hopefully not long. I suppose my loans will have to be in forebearance until I'm able to start paying something on them or until I go back to school. Ben's not having a job right now makes my financial situation very stressful and very ify. (If that's even a word.) But that's probably not something I should post on here because he'll get pissed at me. I'll probably get a talking to about posting as much as I have.

I just need him to be my equal in all matters. Nothing more, nothing less. But I feel that I've been getting less for a long time and I'm tired of picking up the slack. I'm so fucking tired. He hates it when I use the word fuck.

I suppose it's just the alcohol talking....4 beer type beverages and two glasses of wine later.... :) Or maybe I really am hurting and I want him to understand.

There's nothing quite like waking up in the morning and praying to the porcelin goddess. Yes friends, as faithful and devoted as I am, I was down on my knees at 3:30 this morning paying homage to the goddess. I left her an offering. :)

You know, it's not really the act of vomiting that is so horrible really. It's the anticipation of it that's so maddening! The sickness, the hot flashes and chills, the unwillingness to have your stomach's contents come rushing back out...that's the bad part.

I don't know what the hell is wrong with me! I'm still nauseous!

The girls at work kept teasing me about the possibility of pregnancy. This thought terrifies me. Ben and I are not in the position at this time to be parents. One of the girls that I work with, Kristina, and her husband have been trying to have a child for the past 5 years and have continuously met with failure. She got excited at the thought that I might be pregnant and then asked if she could have it if I was. :)

As silly as her suggestion was, it started me thinking. I know I'm not ready to be a mother at this point in time. I could not provide a stable and secure home environment and I do not want to bring a child into my world...yet. But if I did become preganant at this time adoption would be something that I would consider. There are thousands of good people out there who just want a child to love and who have been unlucky enough to be unable to conceive.

I realized from Kristina's response to my situation that her life would be complete if she were able to adopt or give birth to a child. But how hard would it be to give up the child once it is born and you've seen the little life that you've created?

Well...I'm going to bed. Hopefully this is just some funky virus or something.