Between feeling like shit and writing about Nane deciding to attack me like she did yesterday on Facebook, I haven’t really had time to get into Tom’s appointment and what’s been going on with me. 

I may have to work on this in spurts just like I’ve had to do the cleaning and laundry in spurts. 

Tom said that the male Arab doctor that he saw was friendly. As in professionally friendly. He didn’t come off as uncaring as Dr. D or anything like that. This is the doctor Nane had a problem with my not wanting to see. The REAL reason I didn’t want to see him wasn’t that I feared he was some secret terrorist that would kill me, but because I was afraid I would have trouble understanding his accent, and I also prefer a female doctor. No matter how sensitive a guy is and no matter how smart he thinks he is, only a woman can know what it’s like to be a woman. I don’t want my health in the hands of one who has to guess and imagine how I feel. I will see him, however, if Tom continues to like him and I don’t like the female Ecuadorian doctor I’ll be seeing. Meanwhile, he gave Tom some pills for his high BP and we’ll see what the blood work says. 

But for Nane to have called me racist is just ridiculous. Do I like Muslims as a whole? No, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I hate every single one of them. Funny how she went on and on about her ex-husband being black-American, the love of her life being Greek, and the guy she keeps taking back after they break up is Turkish. Well, I had a one-nighter with a girl who was part black, part Puerto Rican, a 6-month relationship with a Cherokee woman, and another one-nighter with a Mexican girl. So I’d say I’ve done my share of race-mixing as well. :) 

Decided to spend the next year or so selling all my dolls, even though, contrary to some people’s beliefs, doll collecting among women truly is very common. Maybe it’s not in Europe, but it is kind of pointless to have them sitting around collecting dust, so I think I’ll eventually sell them on Amazon. I’m going to be stubborn about the prices, though. If I don’t make a profit, ok. But I want at least what we paid for them. Even for Peyton, the doll I just got. She was to complete my trio of 18” dolls. I had a green-eyed blond, and an Asian doll with dark hair and eyes, and so I wanted to add a blue-eyed redhead. I will let people know once they’re up for sale. 

Still more to write about regarding these scary spikes in the heart rate I’ve been having, but I’ll get to it later. 

Later… 

Looks like my sister was right about the spikes in my heartbeat being caused by my thyroid. I thought it was unlikely because I’ve got hypothyroidism and not hyperthyroidism. But from all we’ve experienced, researched and learned over the last year, that’s almost certainly what’s been causing my problem as opposed to medications or anxiety. Don’t get me wrong; the whole thing has made me anxious as hell on top of it all. Having your heart suddenly race is terrifying and you can bet your ass it’s going to cause anxiety and maybe even panic attacks. 

The problem was when they upped me from 50mcg to 75mcg. See, my thyroid isn’t 100% dead. If it were I’d have gained a ton of weight in just 6 months and not 30 pounds over a decade. Some days my thyroid actually works a little better on its own, and the problem comes in when the pituitary gland starts screaming commands at it to work harder than it can. I was put on meds not because the gland is dead but because it works harder than it can. But the pit gland isn’t smart enough to know that it’s being overworked by being told to work harder than it can. It’s like a runner who wants to run at 8 MPH but can only run up to 6 MPH while some drill sergeant is screaming, “Run faster, run faster!” This is what causes the scary spikes in heart rate. 

The 50mcgs showed my thyroid was still a bit underactive, but 75 made it go haywire. Then when I stopped the meds that caused my thyroid to dip and once again the pituitary is throwing a shit fit over it. So we don’t just need to regulate the thyroid gland to but shut the pit up as well. They’re pretty much intertwined. The 75s made me feel worse than not taking anything at all, but I definitely need to get back onto a much lower dose of something. 

Last night after Tom crashed I had some scary spikes. One had me almost considering waking him up and getting me to an ER, but I just did some deep breathing and reminded myself it was not life-threatening. Just scary as hell. 

This morning I was hoping to sleep in till 10:00 so I’d have fewer hours alone, but I awoke at 7-fucking-30, unfortunately. Not wanting to get up and face whatever tortures my heart was going to put me through, I lay there for over an hour. Then sure enough, I felt a wooziness come over me, then boom, boom, boom! I jumped up and took a chill pill, but fortunately, it settled down fast and I haven’t had any other spikes during the day and evening. Who knows what’s in store for me later on, though? It’s unpredictable, though heat from hot food or hot showers can trigger it. 

Never was I more grateful that I don’t drive. Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass at times having to rely on Tom to finagle his schedule so he can take me where I need to go but to think that this could’ve happened while I was driving is enough to spike my heart rate all on its own! 

I started to fear I might have a case of tachycardia that could be dangerous, but we’re still pretty confident my heart itself is ok. When Tom’s asleep or at work I email him when anything happens. When I got up, this was waiting in my inbox from him: 

I have done a little more research on heart rates and I found a post from a doctor responding to a woman with similar questions (I know she doesn't have your symptoms but it does show that a variation in heart rates is not a big deal). The woman is 44 and said that during a workout her heart went from 130 to 165 to 57 to 120 to 130. She also said it has been as high as 215. The doctor said variations between 57 and 165 are okay but 215 is getting a little too high. He recommended that she have her thyroid checked. In this case, I think the doctor suspects hyperthyroidism is causing the extremely high heart rate. The point is your heart is fluctuating between something like 80 and 140 which is a lot less than the 57 to 165 that the doctor wasn't even worried about. I think as long as you take the chill pill on days that I work you will be fine until your appointment. If there is any risk at all the doctor will send you to a specialist within a few days of your appointment. Of course if there were any real risks your last doctor would have already sent you to a cardiologist, doctors are very worried about being sued so they are very cautious when it comes to heart issues. Remember when I had chest pains they had me do a stress test for my exercise-induced asthma. I think the reason they were concerned with me was that I had the pain but no other symptoms. Because you have a number of different symptoms they are able to tell that it is not an issue with your heart. 

My old endo doc was confused from the get-go cuz when she asked me how I felt and I told her I felt the same, I think she was under the impression that I’d always felt tired when in fact that was actually one symptom I never had. I have just as much energy as I did in my 20s. I think that the miscommunication and my not knowing enough about it back then to understand things is part of what got me all messed up, not that Sutter as a whole is a good medical group to be with anyway. The office staff is just a nightmare to deal with. Tom’s going to request the records from them in a week or two. 

Last night I was looking out the window longing to be out there on my bike in the dead of night when the park is asleep and no mutt walkers or traffic is in my way, but I knew that I couldn’t be because I didn’t want to risk having a spike when my heart was already elevated. I miss not having to give a second thought to such simple little pleasures in life. These spikes suck to have if you’re just lying in bed or sitting still in a chair, but you DON’T want it to happen while exercising! We talked about getting a gear wheel for my bike since it’s gearless, or even a motorized attachment that’ll push the bike uphill for me, but that’d be like cheating. What’s the point of working out then? I just want to wait till they stabilize my thyroid and, thus my heart. I miss being out there! Not just to keep in shape but because biking is fun and I love the fresh air, especially since I work at home. Tonight I just did a quick run on the treadmill after Tom came home. Enough to keep my joints and muscles strong, but not to overdo it. Definitely don’t want to push it at this point even though I’d love to hop on the bike, feel the wind in my hair, and just zip through the park. 

I knew it, though. I knew I didn’t just suddenly develop a killer case of anxiety independent of the meds, naturally a bit anxious/emotional or not. But I’m really surprised it wasn’t all due to the meds themselves. 75mcg is still way out of the question. That dose not only spiked my heart big time but it totally fucked up my brain chemistry. That feeling of suffocation and utter doom and despair was horrible. I also knew I didn’t “overdo” my workout. Sorry, but fat or not, I’m in pretty good shape. 

I really want to live to see him retire and maybe move to Florida and have more family around, etc. Really wish Andy, Tammy and Aly lived locally at times. 

All in all, Hashimoto’s is a shit disease to have. Really thought I wouldn’t have to deal with these kinds of things till my husband was retired and didn’t have to juggle his schedule to help me deal with it. I definitely feel more comfortable with him around during this rough patch and was glad to take a nap for a couple of hours this afternoon. That made it seem like I was alone for two fewer hours. 

The OT money is awesome, though, and we just got some stuff on Amazon, mostly for the car and rats. A new stereo, a camera to put in back of the car, some bedding and plush beds for the rats, and a Kindle stand for me. This way when I’m lying in bed reading, these little hands and short fingers of mine don’t have to hold this surprisingly heavy device.

Just like Nane dumped me in late 2010, a few months after we met on a language site, it’s my turn to dump her. It was a fun 4 years, but I don’t need the fucking judgments. Let her serve as an example, folks, that no, I wasn’t kidding. You wanna ask me something out of curiosity, fine. You want to judge and critique me and twist the things I say, I’m gone. Period. Life is too short to waste time on people like that when there are so many other people in the world. Although I’ll cherish the fun chats we had, I don’t need this shit from her or anyone else. If I wouldn’t take it from someone right down the street, I sure as shit ain’t taking it from someone on the other side of the world that I never met no matter how good-looking they may be. You’re a mouse click, a phone call, or a door knock away from entering my life, and it also takes those same quick actions to remove you from it. 

First and foremost, I don’t hate Nane and I don’t wish bad things on her or anything like that. But I’m me just like others are who they are and I don’t make any apologies for being who/what I am. I simply avoid those I don’t like as opposed to sticking around and trying to change them. It wasn’t that Nane had gone so far as to try to “change” me, but when I get called racist for not loving each and every human being on the planet, I get a little fed up. If having a beef against those who run around savagely beheading people or playing the race card when someone pisses them off makes me racist, then fine. 

It actually started with her asking about my doll collection. She said she wondered why I collected these dolls and figurines. I kind of blinked in confusion and thought to myself, well, why not? Still not getting just what it was she was asking, she goes on to say that she wonders if something’s missing from my childhood. Well, it certainly wasn’t dolls! We had plenty of material things and that was one of the few things we actually didn’t lack growing up. It was the love, lack of attention, and acceptance that was the problem. I’m not one to try to “hold onto my youth” because I know that youth can’t be ours forever anyway. Furthermore, there are TONS of adult collectors out there. I never could understand all the questions and problems with adult doll/figurine collectors. It’s like with Halloween. Sure more kids are into it than adults, but adults do have Halloween parties. Still, if you collect coins, stamps, or bottles no one ever thinks twice about it and no one questions you. As soon as it’s dolls, though, there must, must, must be something wrong with you if you’re over 12. Sorry, though, folks. I’m not going to trash my collection cuz you guys may think it’s “weird” or something from my past that drives me to collect. I’ve been an avid collector since 1999, with a 5-year break when poverty struck us down hard. I sold many pieces due to either getting sick of them or needing the extra money. I don’t plan to collect much more but that’s only because I’m sick of dusting them and running out of space. Not because you guys think I’m too old for this shit. I could actually make a lot more space; it’s just that I don’t want these shelves too cluttered. 

Again, though, there are numerous adult collectors out there. No, not as many kids, but enough. Some prefer porcelain only, some like vinyl, some like lifelike baby dolls, some like Barbie, some like clowns, some like ethnics, etc. I have a mix of everything but clowns. 

So even though she says she’s sorry if she hurt my feelings, I told her no, I wasn’t hurt, but I was feeling like she was crossing the line from curious to judgmental. I make no apologies for liking what I like as knickknacks and home décor anymore than I apologize for what types of food and music I like. Not everything has some grand reason behind it. I collect dolls because I like to. I’m fat because I have Hashimoto’s and hate the hunger diets bring. I don’t like to travel much (regardless of how we’re doing for money) because it’s a pain in the ass. I don’t have many in-person friends because it’s not important to me to have them. I don’t eat oranges cuz I hate the taste. I sometimes listen to new-age music cuz it relaxes me. See? Not everything in life is so complicated. So if these things seem strange for a “grown-up woman,” that’s your problem. 

Back to the race thing. She comes out and says, “You are a racist and that’s why I’ve been staying away the last few months. You’ve been making comments about people not being white or American.” 

She missed the point, but again, it’s easier to just not bother than to try to explain to someone who should know me better by now. Making an observation doesn’t necessarily make one racist. Any idiot should know that. If I decide I don’t like you it’s going to be because of YOU, not where you’re from or what color you are. I think this stems from my saying that it’s hard to get an American doctor here because so many doctors come from other countries as they know they can make so much more money here. 

Do I have a problem with immigration as a whole? You bet I do and I have no qualms in saying so. If it weren’t for so many damn immigrants coming over here and hogging our resources, my husband probably wouldn’t have had to spend so long on unemployment. How do you think it made me feel to see my husband, with so many years of great work history, automatically get passed over to one who’s either younger, blacker or from somewhere else because we’re living in a time when society feels the need to favor non-whites to make up for how rough non-whites had it in the past? Like my husband is responsible for that? Gimme a fucking break! 

If my husband were single and looking, a man would not be acceptable. Does that make the guy a hater of gays? Absolutely not! His wife’s best friend, a gay guy that’s like family that she’s known all her life, can vouch for that. He’s been over his place to help fix his TV and whatnot when we all lived in Phoenix and he had no problem with that whatsoever. Or his many visits to the house we had. Or the visit he’ll be making to this house in this state next month. 

Nonetheless, that’s how our society is. If a woman prefers a woman doctor, she’s a sexist. If a person speaks out about blacks rioting when they don’t get their way, she’s a racist. Does my not liking oranges mean I’m prejudiced against those who work in citrus groves? 

Well, think what you want folks, cuz guess what? Jodi’s staying Jodi. I’m nobody’s liar and I’m not about to conform to what’s politically correct or normal. I don’t strive to be unique and I don’t strive to be normal. Just me, is all. I’m not selling my dolls. I’m not going to hold back on saying what I have to say about certain people’s actions and personalities simply because the person may be black and it may offend people. If I acquire a rare illness or disease I’m not going to hold back on that just because you might not get it and therefore insist I’m making it up as an excuse to get out of whatever. A journal is to document our lives and experiences and the people we deal with throughout life. Whether or not anyone agrees with it or likes it is strictly up to them, but I’m not going to let it influence what I say and how I live my life. It’s ok to think I’m strange, but just remember that before you go picking on someone for not liking the way some groups handle things, remember you have your own limits and restrictions as well. Some of you do, anyway. I could’ve sworn Nane said she’d never date anyone who wasn’t fluent in German. But it’s not ok for me to prefer American doctors? It’s not ok that I’m not quick to embrace all the Muslims in the world after the way they’ve terrorized us and love to chop people’s heads off all in the name of their precious and fictitious “Allah?” *snorts* Who the fuck does she think she’s kidding? 

Doesn’t matter. I told her we’re done and then I deleted her. Will she fight for me like I once fought for her when she was the one to dump me? I doubt it. That’s not what I’d want but I am curious as to how she’ll react as my dumping her sinks in. I think right now she’s probably in shock, never thinking I’d dare do such a thing and that I’d just keep playing her games and taking her shit. 

I dreamed of sitting in a predominantly black courtroom. A young black girl, who was in on assault charges, was telling the judge how she wasn’t going to just stand there when some girl went to punch her in the nose. The judge, who I couldn’t see from where I sat, but who also sounded black, spoke in a calm but matter-of-fact voice. I couldn’t understand a word she said, though. Then the girl started making these loud shrilly sounds and I wasn’t sure if they were sounds of anger or if she’d burst out in this hysterical fit of laughter or something.

They say if you’re gay, you’re confused. They also say if you’re bisexual, you’re confused. Lastly, they say that if you’re a lesbian, you’re still confused. My point? Those that think they have it all figured out and can assign these neat little labels and properly categorize people and the things they feel are probably the ones that are the most confused. 

Like, well… me, for example. I was so sure I had the random anxiety attacks figured out. First I thought I could slap a nice neat little label saying “levothyroxine” on these attacks and that this would be the simple and correct term for it with no other possibilities in between. Then I thought I could change or at least add a label saying “vitamin D.” Then after yesterday when I supposedly overdid my workout, even though I’m an avid rider, I thought I could add yet another label saying “overdid it.” 

Once it happened when I simply reached down to pick something up off the bathroom floor last night I realized that not only does one label/term NOT fill all, but I ran out of other possibilities to add to my list of labels unless “I’m all out of ideas” or “I give up trying to figure this out” counts. Even sitting at the computer my heart would sometimes race over 100. 

“How come my heart didn’t beat like this when I used to run?” I asked Tom, and he thinks it did. Did it? I guess it might have, but as he said, I wasn’t so hyperaware and obsessed with paying attention to it back then. 

Still, once the incident in the bathroom happened was when I officially gave up trying to narrow it down and crush it right out of my life, whatever it was. Sometimes giving up can actually be the way to success, but I think that once my fear turned to anger like it did last night, that might’ve been a turning point for me. I don’t take no shit from people and I ain’t about to take it from any of my body parts either. As Tom reminded me numerous times, the heart won’t beat faster than it needs to, fluctuations are actually a good thing from what he’s read on WebMD, doctors listened to it when my BP and pulse were high and no one ever worried about it. 

Tom said that without unemployment, though we would still get that, we’d be ok for 7-8 months if I wanted him to quit his job so we could focus more on my health and getting these anxiety attacks under control. 

No! I adamantly told him. Because if my gut instinct is right about something up there “punishing” me for finally getting what I want in life, be it any kind of a God or whatever, then that’s actually what it wants. God would LOVE to see us throw our lives away, and while our chances of ending up in a serious jam are much lower than a few years ago, it’s still risky and that would only add to my anxiety. As it is we were charged 3-fucking-hundred dollars for the paramedic call. Things add up. I thought that was free like when you call the cops, though! I guess the only time you don’t pay is if they take you to the ER and admit you. 

Today has been just the opposite of yesterday. I chill-pilled when I got up at 7am and have been fine ever since. In fact, I’ve been amazingly calm and it’s probably due to that little white pill. At this point, I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if it’s my left toe ring or my right pinky making me feel better! I’m just glad to feel relaxed for a change. If I have to take chill pills regularly, at least until I can get established with new doctors and a new medication setup, so be it. Then once I’m settled in with that I can slowly do away with the happy pills. Now, for reasons I may never know, they definitely seem to help and I appreciate having them. 

Maybe menopause really is setting in, which can have similar effects. I’ll bring all this up with my new doctor (damn, I’m gonna miss Doc C, and if only Sutter wasn’t so messed up!) Tom doesn’t think it’s any one thing and was probably a combination of the meds and other things, and realizing he’s right, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I need to learn to live with these things because there’s no way to know for sure if they’ll ever go away on their own. I suppose that if they could start on their own, they could disappear on their own, but why??? Why did they suddenly decide to start on July 9th in the first place? What was it about that day, just one day shy of our 1-year anniversary here? 

Trying not to panic when my heart suddenly takes off galloping is hard as hell. It’s like resisting the natural urge/reflex to punch someone that’s punched you. How do you just get punched like that and just stand there without striking back? No matter who the stronger, fitter, slimmer, angrier one is, isn’t it only natural to fight back and defend yourself? Well, for me, it is very hard to resist the urge to panic when my heart races. Trying to ignore it and stay calm is damn near impossible. I don’t know why it’s so scary (an adrenaline rush?) but it just is. It’s terrifying and hard to adapt to. The only good in this shit is that it might actually make going back on meds less scary if I know that’s not the only culprit and that the bulk of it really is just random anxiety. It sure is keeping my weight down too, so no need to worry I’m going to get so big I can’t even tie my shoes. 

Tom should be heading to his own doctor’s appointment right about now. I hope he’s right when he says all they’ll do is tell him his blood pressure’s a little high and he should lose some weight. He’s going to start dieting soon. If his thyroid is ok, then it should be simple enough as long as he can stand the hunger and cravings. Hunger is more an issue with me than specific cravings, but I expect to just stay in the 140s.

On this unusually windy day, I have officially given up on ever feeling like my old self again. She’s gone forever. In fact, I sometimes wonder if I’m going to live much longer, especially since every time I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on with me, I’m back to square one with nothing but questions. Tom keeps saying I’m fine, everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong, but then why did I have another “heart explosion” on the bike? Tom was with me and we stopped and sat on a bench, but still… did I really “overdo” it? Even though I was going slow coming up the hill, Tom said he could see me pushing and straining and that while I may be in better aerobic shape than he is, my leg muscles aren’t as strong as his. I’m also on a gearless bike. My heart didn’t make it to 160, though it probably came close at 140-150. When we got back I had another case of the partial runs where it wasn’t quite what would qualify as being the runs, but not solid either. 

Now I’m wondering once again if the vitamin D really caused my heart to race in the shower last Friday or not. And why did I have a weird feeling when I woke up a few times for a minute or two in the middle of the night as I often do? I know our bodies shoot adrenaline through us when we wake up, but when I placed my hand on my heart, it didn’t feel like it was racing. Sometimes it almost feels like it’s racing or is about to take off racing yet it doesn’t. 

*beats head in frustration* I just don’t understand anymore. I just don’t. Was it both a case of my overdoing it and the vitamin D? My thyroid? Anxiety? Something else? Tom doesn’t think it’s any one thing and that makes it all the more frustrating and scary because that means I’m fair game to these beat-outs anytime, anywhere. It’s like my whole body is messed up. My period’s 10 days late and I don’t know if that’s because of stress and stopping the medication, or if it’s menopause setting in or both. Like I said, I just don’t know what to think anymore. 

I feel fine right now, but how will I feel in a few minutes? How will I feel in a few hours? Tomorrow I’ll be alone again, worried, wondering… is my heart going to suddenly take off on a mad rampage? If this shit keeps up I’ll have to see a specialist for sure. Both a cardiologist and maybe even the shrink Hot Doc wanted me to see. If it’s anxiety, then I may need to be chill pilled for a while. If it’s my heart, which I doubt, then that too will need attention. Again, hearts don’t usually race when there’s something going on with them so I’m not too concerned with that. We learned, though, that we don’t need a referral, after all, to go to a specialist. With our plan, we can just go, even though it’ll cost $35. 

My thyroid’s definitely gotta be moving somewhat cuz I’m down half a pound after a day of eating candy, chips and all kinds of stuff as I always do on weekends. I still have the energy I had when I was young and still tend to dash from room to room, but I didn’t get any other exercising done yesterday other than that and walking around Walmart.

I never even got to mention my chat with Bob or some other things because I’ve been either busy or feeling crappy. Other than feeling crappy, life is great. I almost feel like I’m being punished for this happiness, though, and believe me when I say I’d rather be broke than feeling shitty. Yet it’s like something’s punishing me for “going home,” as funny as it may sound, and doing well financially. But just because we have money doesn’t mean we’re rich, and just because we got to live in a nice house/neighborhood doesn’t always mean it’s peaceful. 

Later on, I’ll write about the things I haven’t written about yet. This entry’s long enough anyway. 

Later… 

And now to catch up on the rest of my life since I plan to be busy tomorrow cleaning and worrying about my heart freaking out on me if it isn’t actually doing so. Really, really hope today’s race from hell was just cuz I truly did overdo it on the bike, and that Friday’s was due to the vitamin D. 

I forget what day it was (Thursday?) but when the saw and hammer started up AGAIN just 15’ away, I’d had enough. I didn’t want to sound complaining, though. I mean sure it’s great to be active and do things and all that and I know he has a right to do his thing, but not if it’s disturbing those around you, right? Just because you may want to build things doesn’t mean I should have to hear about it. I don’t care if it’s “normal” daytime noise or not. Unless you’re doing necessary repairs or yard work or something like that, your wanting to build your daughter a birdhouse should be between you and her and not on me as well. 

So I went over there (surprised to find him in a gray T-shirt instead of the usual white one) and asked if he had a set schedule these days for woodworking that I could go by on account of my work. He said no and that he did projects all the time for his kids and grandkids. Yeah, that’s the problem. He’s the Jesse of the park, though I can’t deny that there are a few others around here that would be worse to live next to. He said he might not do anything for a month between projects but doesn’t have a set schedule. In the last several weeks, though, he’s worked more than I’ve ever heard him in the entire 15 months we’ve lived here. 

I told him if I had an idea of when he’d be likely to be working I could move my office on the other side of the house (even though some of his racket is so loud it can be heard there, too). He asked what I did and I told him I do artificial intelligence work and some writing. Then he said he’d let me know when he planned to do a lot of sawing and asked what was it about this (his woodworking). Are you kidding? I thought to myself. I know the guy’s got hearing issues and he did, in fact, wear a hearing aid, but how can he be so stupid? Common sense should tell the guy that running loud power tools and beating the snot out of things with hammers and mallets just a matter of feet from the wall of one’s house is loud, distracting, and annoying to those who aren’t deaf. I just politely said it could be heard over the videos and recordings I’m often paid to watch and evaluate (which is true). Again he just said he’d let me know when he planned to be at it again and that’s fair enough. I don’t want the guy to stop living his life; I’d just like a heads-up if he’s not going to tone it down a bit anytime soon. 

When we talked he was just finishing up the birdhouse he was making for his daughter. It is BEAUTIFUL too, though painted with dull colors. Very detailed with a shingled roof and many pieces. No wonder it took so much time and noise to make. I thought it would have about 7 pieces and be half the size it is. 

All I heard the next day, Friday morning, was a couple of minutes of what sounded like a sander, then nothing ever since. For now, I’m in the office/laundry room, and hopefully the people on this side won’t get wild on me before I can get a portable device. I highly doubt they will, though, as the couple that lives in the gold house has never been into the woodworking thing the whole time we’ve been here, and the green house just has a lady that never goes anywhere and rarely has company. 

Bob asked how I was doing and I told him I’ve had my rough moments and to say hi to Virginia for me. I asked how many grandkids he had. He said 8 and I said, “Wow,” with a smile all the while thinking that he should’ve been sterilized a long time ago for my sake. 

Tom replaced the valve in the master toilet because it was leaking, and Windows still sucks shit because I’d already gotten viruses after just a few uses of the Windows PC he got from work that I didn’t even know about until he discovered them when he used that computer. He used it to try to see if I could run my big Mac from either the Windows PC in the laundry room or the living room where it was set up until a few hours ago. The refresh rate was too slow, though, so we decided to just throw the Mac in here. We also decided that when I get a compact and portable laptop/tablet, we’re going to pay the extra money to get a Mac so I can be safer. Windows is just so fucking buggy I honestly don’t understand why anyone on earth uses it.

Although I feel slightly anxious even though my heart’s not racing, I haven’t had any serious heart racing, now that I suspect the vitamin D had a hand in tormenting me along with the other shit I was on. Unless I need a chill pill, which I’m hoping to avoid, I’m determined not to let anything other than food and drinks pass these lips till I see my new doctor next month. It’s the only way to know if anything is going on that’s not chemically induced. Other than the Hashimoto’s and stuff we know of, I don’t think there’s anything else going on with me, but this way I can have a better idea. 

Tom still thinks my heart has been around 160 during past workouts; I just didn’t make a big deal of it back then cuz I wasn’t “scarred,” so to speak, by the levothyroxine experience. And I say it was rarely that high and it also never took forever to return to normal like it did on Wednesday. 

He has a point when he says that while the vitamin D may’ve elevated it, I then became anxious over it. I don’t doubt that. That’s why, like he said, he was able to help me get it back to normal quickly enough the second time when I was able to reach him right away. Chemicals don’t know, after all, when you’ve got someone to help talk you through it. 

Anyway, Gail and Benji are really Merle and Benji. Andy, being 4 years older than I am, was able to tell me a little bit more about these two from the 70s. As I told him, after explaining what little I remembered of them during our summer stays at the beach in Connecticut, I’m not looking to contact either of them. I just wondered who they were. 

I also couldn’t swear under oath that Merle really did abuse Benji. Maybe he was just a spoiled brat taking a tantrum and all Merle was doing that day in the bedroom of their rental was simply yelling at him. If I had to guess, though, she probably was at least smacking the kid. 

They were connected to Andy's sister. Merle actually used to be Marla’s SIL. There were two sisters, Arlene and Merle. I don’t remember the name Merle, much less why I thought her name was Gail, but the name Arlene struck me as familiar when Andy mentioned it in the VM he left me. Arlene was beautiful and blessed and she married a rich guy. Merle, on the other hand, was cursed and ugly. Andy's physical description of her was exactly what I remembered it to be except for her weight. He described her as thin, but I thought she was fat. A difference of perception perhaps? Sort of like how some wouldn’t consider me that big while others would consider me a pretty good size. 

The only other thing he told me was that Merle babysat a lot. I guess Arlene and Arthur decided they weren’t going to let a kid stop them from living, so they often pawned him off on Aunt Merle so they could run off and do things.

Looks like I just might’ve made a major breakthrough in what’s been making my heart race its ass off. I ate a protein bar and then took my chewable kiddy vitamin along with my vitamin D gel pill. As I was swallowing the pill I got one of those bad feelings we psychics get that we always try to ignore and convince ourselves is just us being “silly.” 

I was cooking my mini pizza and all was fine 15 minutes later save for a bout of the partial runs, as I call it. A half-hour later things were still fine. Then I was just finishing up my shower and rinsing the water out of my not-so-long hair. When it’s soaking wet and all the curls are pulled straight it’s maybe a third of the way down my back right now. As I was turning the knobs to stop the water was when I realized my heart was booming again. Breathing deeply and trying to keep calm I grabbed my phone and called Tom while lying on the bed. Mostly thanks to being able to reach him right away and it not occurring several minutes before I could get home like two days ago on the bike, it slowed down pretty fast. Yesterday I took nothing at all. I admit I questioned the vitamin D, but then said, nah. 

I took a chill pill cuz my pulse was starting to come back up, had two more bouts of partial runs, and then, as self-pitying as it may seem, I broke down in tears of frustration for a few minutes. I couldn’t help but ask WHY? And HOW do I fix this? Nothing I come up with makes sense. I agree with Tom that it’s not likely to be my heart because I have none of the classic symptoms. No chest, neck or arm pain. 

Although the symptoms scream “anxiety,” even though I had no feelings of suffocation, throat lumps or symptoms other than a racy heart and upset stomach, why would I suddenly develop such a severe anxiety disorder despite being naturally anxious in the past? When did it ever terrify me so much that I had to run and call Tom about it? So once again, even if it seems a bit extreme for me, I wondered if the doc was right and if maybe I’ve got severe anxiety and need a shrink. The only thing I’m sure of is that if my only choices are these beat-outs or doping myself up, I’ll take the dope. It’s terrifying. Just because it’s not life-threatening doesn’t make it any less scary. That big old spider on the wall isn’t life-threatening either, but he’s still terrifying, just in a different kind of way. 

It being my thyroid also makes no sense cuz why now? I’ve had a bum thyroid for years, so why now? I need to find out what this is and get it dealt with, I said to myself, so yes, I’m going to mention it to the new doc next month. I’m literally living in fear now and it’s no way to live. When something’s not actually happening, I’m scared that it will. My sense of peace and security is gone, and every time I think I’m good as new again, my worst fears are realized and confirmed once again. 

And then… even though I promised Tom I wouldn’t research medical stuff so I don’t get freaked out or confused by what I may find… I googled “can vitamin d make your heart race.” 

I sat back in my chair, stared at the page and muttered OMG. Just OMFG. I didn’t even have to click on any links, as I told him when I told him what to Google. Why wasn’t I warned of this possibility, damn it?! I’m tired of having to learn things the hard way and figure things out on my own. Don’t get me wrong, though. The levothyroxine was still a problem, but the D’s were clearly making it worse. I think they all fed off of each other and it was like throwing fuel on a fire. 

It's like going to doctors has made me WORSE instead of better, and that story this girl told me where miscommunication between her doctor and pharmacist caused her to double dose her own thyroid meds doesn't exactly calm my fears and restore my faith in doctors. There are SO many quacks in the world of doctors these days! Forget about just the cops and the government. But this must be dealt with. I can't just sit back and do nothing at all as much as I’d like to. If doctors aren’t going to take responsibility and warn us up front of possible side effects then we need to do our own research. If just one or two people have complaints, I wouldn’t put much stock in it, but when you have dozens of people saying the same thing, well, that should pretty much tell you something. I also wonder why there are no warnings on the vitamin bottle. 

Lotta things are starting to make sense now that I think of this vitamin D shit, which has been slammed - not placed - in the trash. The way being in the sun too long can make your heart beat too fast is one of them. I did take it not too long before hitting my bike the other day too, and like I said, anxiety alone or overdoing my workout just didn’t seem likely, though I’m not ready to rule that out completely. But other things do add up now. It would explain why my heart wouldn’t always race right after taking the levothyroxine, but later on in the day after taking a D. In Wednesday’s case as well as today’s, though, I’d say it definitely wasn’t anxiety that got my heart racing, but the vitamin D that got it racing which in turn caused me to feel anxious. Again, I didn’t have such “heart attacks” to this degree when my life was a mess, so why would I suddenly be hit with such intense and extreme fits of pure anxiety when life is better? I was in a fine mood, the weather was gorgeous, I wasn’t overdoing my workout, etc. 

Now, unless I start getting these heart racers with absolutely nothing at all, I’m afraid to take anything at all! :( It seems I just can’t take anything without side effects. I would get a racy heart at times in my 20s and I wonder just how much of it was anxiety vs. the side effects from the asthma medication I used to take. It’s just that it wasn’t so damn terrifying then, nor did it usually go beyond just a racy heart. I think the levothyroxine and the D’s were responsible for the racing heart, though the levothyroxine was mostly responsible for the negative emotions, the upset stomach and other anxiety symptoms like the throat lump. It’s like the drugs took what was always a case of borderline but manageable anxiety and turned it into the anxiety from hell. Give a plant some water and it will grow. 

I’m afraid to even eat just yet but I have 30 extra pounds of fat my body can feed off of, so I’m not going to starve. I did make some tea, though. I figured that’d be good for starters till I let a few more hours pass by after taking the vitamin. It’s kinda ridiculous, when you think about it, to give me 250% of vitamin D when I get 100% (and they knew this) from the chewable ones, and am spending more time in the sun. In fact, if I’ve read the labels right, they had me on a total of 400%. Who the hell needs 400%?! Were they trying to kill me? 

It’s just nice to know God may not have stolen my joy of bike riding after all if it was the vitamin D causing the racers and not me overdoing it. I just worry something up there is out to slowly torture me to death! Really, I miss the old healthy me! I’d get things that were annoying, but familiar. Frustrating but not terrifying. Now I feel all these things I never felt before and some of which I have, but even those things are scary, too.

Yesterday my heart took me on another fast and furious ride that was utterly terrifying and totally unexpected. Since about 4 or 5 days after quitting the levothyroxine, my heart has been fine. A little racy at times, but nothing too maddening. 

Just after 9am yesterday I took the bike out for my daily 2-mile run around the perimeters. I didn’t think I was going that fast. I was a bit warm perhaps, wishing I’d worn a tank and shorts instead of my long athletic pants and a tee, but sure enough, my heart starts beating its ass off toward the end of my route. I briefly considered stopping but didn’t want to just stand there in the glaring sunlight waiting for what may get worse. I was close to home anyway and wanted to be able to lie down in bed and have access to my phone. I usually bring my smartphone, set it to play music, then place it in my bike basket. It was dead, however, so I left it at home in the charger. 

So I got home and found my heart doing close to 160. I tried not to panic, but it seemed like relaxing wasn’t getting it to slow down. I was going from alarmed to terrified. I popped a chill pill and left Tom a message. He told me to let him know if I wanted him to come home. I told him no, my heart was now slowing down to the 120s. I had none of the anxiety symptoms I had on the medication; just the racing heart. I didn’t feel like I was suffocating or like I had a lump in my throat, and there were no negative emotions other than the fear of what was going on at the moment.

But right after I told him not to come home, the fucker beats its way back up into the 130s. This turned my anxiety up a notch and at that point I told him to come home. 

Nearly a half-hour later he was home and I was lying in bed with what I’m guessing was now a pulse of a little over 100. He got the monitor and confirmed that but then it started climbing again about 5 minutes later. Fortunately, it only did so for a few seconds before dropping to its usual range in the 90s. Eventually, it probably dropped to the 80s. The ordeal left me feeling dizzy and drained. I even woke up down two whole pounds because I was too shaken up to eat as much. All the while I kept asking myself, why, why, why??? I wasn’t on any medication, so why did it happen??? 

Tom and Tammy have two different theories, and while I agree with most of what Tammy says having been a medical assistant and all that, I think Tom is most likely right in this case unless my heart ever decides to start taking off on a mad run while I’m just sitting around doing nothing. And yes, that is a fear I now have, though not a huge one. I don’t mean a spree of 120-something, I mean over 150. I don’t care that our research says it’s not life-threatening without a previous history of heart problems; it’s downright terrifying as hell just the same! I’d rather have a ton of noise all day long to bitch about than to go through such physical terror. Just what the hell has the bastard above got against my heart these days anyway? I swear I feel like I’ve just GOT to be picked on no matter what. If I’m not dirt poor at the moment, why not scare the shit out of me instead then? Once I felt better physically, my mind began to worry about God using me to get Tom to lose his job. God would punish us both for my problems, too. Let’s hope He has a heart – whether His races or not – and spares us the bullshit. Especially after all the hardships we’ve endured in the past. Really, God, if you hate me that much, just kill me or leave me alone. 

Tammy's theory is that it’s my thyroid doing this to me and that once I’m on the proper medication that’s right for me, I’ll be ok. The reason this one’s hard to swallow is that for my heart to take off like that would be more appropriate for those with hyperthyroidism and not hypothyroidism. Also, it did this when I was on the meds. I realized that had I been on just 1 tiny little mcg of the stuff at the time I’d have blamed it on the meds entirely. She said, though, that I wasn’t on the medication long enough to correct the thyroid. 

Tom’s theory is I overdid my workout, 160 won’t kill me, it takes a good half hour or so to get it back down to normal, and my taking a chill pill only delayed this. He thinks that’s why it started coming back up; because it needed to beat faster for a while. He said my heart won’t beat faster than its max heart rate and if it beats like that it’s for a reason that’s necessary, like to pump blood and oxygen to the muscles I worked out. He also said that many of those who work out actually want to hit the 160s, and I probably have come up that high many times in the past but didn’t freak out about it since I’d never had the negative effects of the levothyroxine to remember. Well, I sure wouldn’t mind deleting July 9th through yesterday from my brain! He’s right, though. I probably have hit those levels but just didn’t have the monitor to tell me what the numbers were. A part of me wishes we’d never gotten the damn thing. Ignorance really is bliss at times. How I feel at times is bad enough without the numbers rubbing it in. As he also reminded me, heart attacks are where your heart slows down and can’t beat fast enough, not race like hell. 

I do remember a time back in high school, before the state got me, running around the track. I felt like my heart was going to explode afterward and almost like I might be sick, too. I don’t remember throwing up or anything, but my pulse was rather scary. I had to remain still and it seemed to take a while to slow down. It is still easier to overdo it on a bike than on foot. No doubt about that. On foot, it’s easier to pace ourselves, but when riding a bike uphill, it’s tough whether we’re riding fast or slow. I don’t remember this happening when biking up hills in Oregon, though. 

Imagine a square-shaped piece of cloth and consider it our park. Now lift a corner of that cloth. Well, we’re up on that lifted corner. From any point in the park heading in the direction of our house, it’s an uphill slope all the way with very few level spots. It’s fairly level for walking and driving, but for bikes, there’s no avoiding the hills to get back to the house. The first mile of my ride is mostly downhill, fun and fairly easy, but I gotta come uphill to get home for the last part. 

Just as I was feeling the best ever since last July, this shit had to happen, normal reaction to overdoing it or not. I was beginning to think I’d never need another chill pill again. 

I do agree that it’s highly unlikely anything’s wrong with my heart since enough people have listened to it this year, and I doubt I have anxiety even worse than BOTH the good doc and I imagined because nothing made me anxious other than the event itself. Nothing startled me along the way. No turkeys jumped out at me, no people, no traffic, no nothing. It still seems a bit strange when you’re in as good of shape as I’m in. I’m fat, but I’m still fit, so I feel like it shouldn’t have happened, “normal” or not. Yes, the uphill ride is strenuous as hell on a Cruiser, but then why don’t I have this happen every time I ride? What was different about yesterday? Again, I didn’t think I was overdoing it in any way, but you can bet your ass I ain’t going anywhere today. Today I’m going to sit on my ass reading and writing. No cleaning, no laundry, and definitely no exercising. I’m just running a load of dishes through the dishwasher and dumping the recyclables. 

Tom just left for work reminding me that the numbers mean nothing whether it’s 80 or 130 and that my heart will beat as it needs to. It’s if it stops beating or I go unconscious that something went wrong. I get what he’s saying, though a rapid heartbeat for no reason at all would still scare the shit outa me. Even though I don’t expect my heart to go crazy for the first time ever with no workouts or medication, I’ll be sending Tom regular reports at work throughout the day letting him know how I’m doing. I can tell you one thing for sure and that’s that I have really come to hate hearts! I wish I could yank it outa my chest and put it on the table until Tom comes home. I’d be heartless when he was absent, LOL. 

There’s no way in hell I’m getting back on that bike, and if I ever do it’s not going to be by myself. Since I’ll never lose much weight on or off medication because I can’t stand the hunger diets bring, all I need to do is maintain the shape I’m currently in. All that takes is a few minutes of cardio, plus an arm and ab workout. I’ll either walk/jog on my treadmill or around the circle if I want fresh air, and that’s it. A mile is enough, too. No need to go over two miles by going around perimeters. Tom thinks working out every other day is better than every day. I may do some exercise vids or the Wii Fitness thing, too. I’ll mix it up so I don’t get too bored so easily, but damn am I going to miss my bike. Thanks, God, for taking yet another pleasure from my life. 

I heard movement from next door’s garage on and off yesterday, of course, but no saws, hammers or landscaping frenzies. Saw Mr. White Shirt fold up the table and lean it against the garage wall before pulling the SUV in. I’m sure they’ll have something going on over there today, but I’d rather listen to all kinds of shit than go through yesterday’s scare. 

Later… 

I keep forgetting to ask Andy if he remembers a woman named Gail and a little boy named Benji from the beach we spent our summers at as kids in Old Lyme, Connecticut, the boy being a few years younger than I was. 

I have a vague and quick recollection of them being in the corner cottage that Charlotte and Jim eventually bought. My sister and I were going to go out somewhere with Gail and Benji. Gail was probably in her late teens to early 20s at the time, but I don't think she was Benji's mother. Maybe related, though, but I don't know. Anyway, they were in a bedroom with the door closed while Tammy and I sat out in the living room. I remember Gail yelling at the kid and the kid crying. Back then I was just a naive kid myself, but as an adult looking back on it, I'd say she was probably beating the shit out of the kid. 

Without saying much about it, they came out of the bedroom and we all went to a mall of some kind. Tammy and I must've split up from her and Benji at one point cuz we went into the bathroom to find Gail naked from the waist down. She said, "Oh, Tammy, thank God it's you," as she rinsed her panties in the sink saying she'd had the runs. 

I asked Tammy about it a few months ago and she says she has no recollection of these people. Wonder if Andy does? We’ll soon see. 

Viagraville stayed quiet till 8:40 and then Bob, who seems to literally live in his garage every other day, started in with the bike air pump. The bike I never even see him riding anymore. It started again, overriding my rainstorm video a short while later and that’s when I said, Ok, that’s it. I’m moving my Mac into the laundry room with its built-in desk on the other side of the house from next door. I’ve had it with the loud power tools and machinery. I appreciate that they’ve been here since 1988 and that he’s just a bored, old man who’s restless, but I have rights, too. I’m sick of hearing them nearly every single fucking day. I wish they’d go back to coming and going like crazy. Instead, they’re home more often and in that garage. They have a beautiful patio in front, the weather is now perfect for hanging out there, yet he would rather hang out and make a racket in his garage. I shouldn’t have to sit here with my sound vids to near-deafening levels to drown out an 80-something man in a retirement community. If this shit keeps up I’m going to have to say something. I doubt it’ll do me any good, knowing how most people are, but I’m really getting fed up. I gave him a dose of Aerosmith for a while. Oh, wait. He’s deaf. That’s what Virginia told me anyway, though anytime I’ve talked with him he’s never seemed to have any trouble hearing me. 

Actually, he just left. Good. Hopefully, he won’t come back in an hour or two to play saw and hammer. Thought I’d hear a lot of landscaping today, but nope. Bob’s been the only annoyance so far, but it’s not even noon yet and it’s only 75° out. I should walk around the circle a few times for some sun, color and fresh air, but nope. I really should take a whole day off after yesterday’s scare, normal reaction to a kick-ass workout or not. 

Still liking the idea of moving my computer into the laundry room. Well, I both do and don’t like it. We could use the desk in the living room for our Wii stuff and other stuff like our laser printer. It’d be a bit of a hassle, but hopefully worth it in the end… until the old lady on that side who never goes anywhere and rarely has company decides it’s time to start getting out more and having more guests over, too. 

Later… 

Sitting here realizing how smart it would be not to bother sending Hot Doc a friend request. I just know God's waiting to make sure she doesn't accept it or doesn't even get it if He suspects there's a chance she might accept it. Hotties aren't allowed in my life unless I've never met them. 

The question is if I do send her a friend invite, when and how should I go about it. I contemplated sending a message on MyHealth that said, “On the record: Had to get doctors closer to home. Off the record: Please check your Facebook account when you can. 

But I don’t want to contact her on MyHealth and have that be a part of my health record, especially before the records are transferred to Mercy. 

So should I contact her after Tom contacts Sutter? After I cancel the appointment online and put that as a reason for the cancelation instead of in a message? I probably shouldn’t do that cuz I don’t know that she personally sees my reasons for canceling like she’d see any message I left her. 

Maybe I should just send nothing but the friend invite. The question is… when? I certainly can’t do it while she thinks I’m still her patient. 

I think for now I’ll just wait till the records have been requested.

I got the pumice stones Andy sent to help clean water stains in our toilet bowls, I amazingly have a doctor’s appointment, and my rats are butt fucking. LOL, looks that way, anyway. As any rat behavior research will tell you, when the opposite sex isn’t available, the same sex will do. At least they can’t knock each other up. :) 

It’s official. Tom will be seeing a male Arabian doctor next week and I will be seeing a female Ecuadorian doctor next month. We’re thinking I can get into the specialist in mid-December. Tom thinks it will be good for me to have another month to continue recovering and not have to worry about it. Also, I don’t want to start medication while Andy's visiting and have to worry about the potential side effects when trying to enjoy his visit. As Tom also points out, this way it will be closer to the New Year since I don’t like that there is a 4 in this year. 4 has always seemed to be a very unlucky number for me, and other than our trip to Hawaii and being in good financial standing, this year sure has had its rough spots. Having side effects so bad you think you accidentally OD’d and may die is no fun at all. 

Although I’ll miss Doc C, I will not miss Sutter at all! They are not only disorganized, incompetent idiots, they took me, a healthy woman who was fit for her age, not overly fat, with a minor condition that should be medicated but isn’t presently critical, and left me basically unmonitored while I suffered inhumane side effects and was told to keep taking the shit that was causing them, and then to see a shrink so I could “deal” with the anxiety that the meds were 95% responsible for. 

The one thing no one can take away, unfortunately, is the horrible memories of those panic-filled moments of fight or flee the shit sent my mind and body into. I felt like I was going to die at times! I still can’t believe how one can have a 99% oxygen reading yet STILL feel like they’re about to suffocate to death. It was the absolute worst feeling I ever experienced along with the booming heart that would suddenly occur while I was just sitting there with nothing bad on my mind at all. 

Don’t get me wrong, though. Going back to the doctors and back on meds is still a scary thought after what happened. Doc C was right about some of the anxiety coming from me (we just didn’t want me being doped up or getting addicted to happy pills). But I will hopefully get over my fears and phobias in time just like I did with the dentist after the county quack I saw when we were broke turned pulling that molar into a nightmare. Before that, having teeth pulled wasn’t a big deal for me. I’d had all 4 wisdoms pulled and an impacted baby tooth. Braces were a bit rough, but still nothing like Mr. County Quack. 

Later… 

I don't know what shocks me more, how well the pumice works that Andy sent, or how something so rough could fail to scratch the bowls up to holy hell and back! I so do appreciate him sending them! I thought it would take forfuckingever to get the stains off - IF it really worked - but nope. Took no time at all to do both toilets, though I'll admit I'm not striving for total perfection with these ancient bowls since we're going to replace them at some point. 

I’m enjoying the peace until next door, along with the park workers, come to steal it away for the day. Yesterday sucked. Next door had a carpet cleaning company here that was insanely loud. It went on for about 45 minutes. 

Enough of their loud services already! If it isn’t them making the racket, they’re hiring people to do it for them. 

I guess Virginia only wears the same color, too. Where Bob wears only white shirts, she wears only pink. Nothing wrong with that, of course, it’s just a little odd to see someone wearing the same thing every time you see them. 

What was strange was that the SUV stayed here while the carpet was being done. I’m guessing someone picked them up or they hung out with someone at the park. If they’re back into their usual routine, the first trip out will occur by 8:30. The garage door is closed, but I’m guessing that’s cuz of all the stuff they’ve got in there right now. I just hope they’re not living it up out there today (along with anyone else) in ways that override my sound machine. The thing was certainly useless against that carpet cleaner as well as that tree service! 

Also yesterday, the park landscapers seemed to be doing the same damn areas over and over again. You’d never believe you were in a retirement community! For about 5 hours it was one distraction after another. 

Nane’s back, but probably wishes she wasn’t. Kein mehr Sonne und Meer für ihre, LOL. 

Poor Aly needs dentures due to her “own laziness,” as she puts it. Huh? Didn’t she brush daily? Or did she just not take care of cavities regularly? Still, it once again makes you wonder just what kind of God, if any, sits up in the sky when people like her need dentures while Molly’s worst problem is not being able to let go of a guy in Iowa who abused her and is now stalking her. 

Who is the winner of this year’s Blog Cabin?! Not me. You would think that with my entry being one of many millions I wouldn’t bother entering in the first place. After all, my odds of winning aren’t much better than if I’d never entered at all. 

As I sit here listening to the distant freeway traffic, one of the few sounds penetrating these walls that I actually don’t find annoying, I find myself amazed that there is so much traffic on a weekday at nearly 3am. I know this is Cali, but where could so many people have to go in the wee hours of a Tuesday morning? 

Bob never ended up pulling a power tool party on me yesterday. At one point around noon, I looked out the front door and saw a bunch of books sitting on the table he’d set up. Maybe they were just clearing old clutter out of the house or something. I just hope it’s peaceful today with the exception of the landscapers that always hit the house across from us on Tuesdays. 

After posting 3 entries in less than 2 hours, I’d say this is it for now. :) 

Later… 

One of the benefits of being a lead or whatever you want to call it at work, is that Tom gets to play by his own rules. Money is not needed now, but it’s always wanted. Always. We’re only human and nearly $25 an hour is hard to pass up. But after 9 hours and 45 minutes of work, he said, “Ok, I’m outa here.” The owners wouldn’t care if he worked all through the night, even if it would cost them a fortune! 10 hours is too much, though, and unless we’re ever desperate for money again, he’s not going to work that long. 9 or a little more is ok some days, but that’s it. 

Those damn skunks are everywhere at this time of year! I love riding in the middle of the night when there are no people, turkeys or vehicles in my way. Gotta watch out for those skunks, though. One ran across the road and into our carport as I was looping around the circle and heading for the outskirts of the park. I almost doubled back to pound on the front door (Tom was up), but realized it would probably have moved on by the time I got back, and it did. 

There goes the oxygen walker. Oh, the things I see from these windows. I’d still prefer to see just an ocean or mountains or woods, but what I do see is hard to miss with all these big windows. 

I’m amazed that the SUV hasn’t budged yet next door and their garage door is still closed, too. A service van pulled up a short while ago, but I don’t know what’s going on. This is so not like them. I know their routine - lights on by 5am, garage door open by his 6:00 walk, first trip out by 8:30. The back of the van is open now and I see a big blue hose on a reel, but still don’t know what it’s for. Carpet cleaning? Still doesn’t explain the garage door still being shut, though. 

Now I hear something loud and obnoxious running from the van. *sighs* I still can’t believe how much noise can be heard in a retirement park. Aren’t they due to go on vacation soon?

Had a dream Andy mentioned having psoriasis, and that I was either being kicked off of or denied disability benefits. The guy interviewing me (while Tom sat next to me) was going on and on about shit like how it was hard to get off of disability, but I was the only reason I wasn’t working. Some shit about mistakes made in the womb too, and then about God’s supposed love and understanding for all of us. 

*rolls eyes* The one that’s made sure to have me denied my rightful benefits? Let’s not forget that no one has ever paid for a single thing done wrong to me in life either. 

Tom read that the third leading cause of death in the US is caused by doctors screwing up. This doesn’t help me get over my trust issues where they’re concerned. I guess in CA they want to pass a law requiring them to get tested for drugs and alcohol. Only I don’t think all their errors are from drugs and alcohol, I think it’s also from stupidity and carelessness. 

After a fun, peaceful and relaxing Sunday, I’m hoping to have an anxiety-free day today. A Bob-free day would be nice, too. Really hope I don’t have to listen to him sawing and hammering on and off for hours. I know most people don’t mind, but to me it’s highly annoying. 

Andy's already been woken up by his new neighbors hammering, but as he said, this is to be expected when they’re just getting settled in. It’s in a few months from now I’d worry about. I don’t know why, but even my worst of neighbors have started off quiet. Then it seems they think all hell should break loose after 6 months to a year. 

I’d rather hear them slam vehicle doors next door. That’s annoying too, but it doesn’t go on and on. It’s a weekday, though, so they’ll come and go plenty. Love it when they BOTH go out, even if they’re not usually gone more than an hour or two. Actually, I don’t mind it when Virginia stays back because she’s never noisy. It’s him that’s the problem. Unfortunately, though, most of the time I see the SUV pull out, it’s just her. 

Alison’s going to leave a VM once AT&T (oh, don’t we remember them and their shit well) takes care of her phone issues. She warned me she sounded nasal. So do I. I also sound like a lesbian, LOL. 

Later… 

Got a little cactus plant and another lucky bamboo plant last Sunday. The bamboo is in a gorgeous shiny vase of little silver squares. I almost got a palm, but said nah. Those would be more work than I care to put into plants. We have enough living outdoors as it is. I have 3 fake palms in here anyway. 

It deeply saddens and angers me to learn a British man got just 4 years in prison for killing his friend when I got 6 months’ county time and 2 years of probation for a letter I didn’t write before being vindicated. It may be better than the Middle East and African countries where they’ll kill you just for being gay or just for what you believe, but really… is human life that meaningless to the British? And is what one says (or is at least accused of saying) really that much more important than what they do? 

It also burns me up when blacks and whites alike try to say there’s “no such thing” as blacks discriminating against whites when I’m living proof that that’s utter bullshit. It isn’t just me either. This has been happening since the L.A. Riots, only you never hear about it like you do when blacks get shit on. Or at least claim they do. This is part of why I’m not spending much time on Facebook lately. I’m tired of hearing about only SOME cases as if it’s still the huge problem it was 50 years ago and no one else ever gets shit on. 

Later… 

Ugh, as soon as I saw next door had pulled the SUV out of the garage and a table with a good-sized stereo set up just inside of it, I threw the sound machines on. I know damn well the sawing and hammering are to come next, and if it doesn’t, whatever it is he’s gearing up to do over there can’t be very quiet. I’m really getting sick of this shit. There are only so many weeks of it I can take before the fact that they’ve been here a helluva lot longer stops mattering to me. I have rights, too. Like the right to live in peace, ESPECIALLY in a retirement community. 

Even when he’s not sawing/hammering, the bumps and bangs of his movements are really annoying/distracting and I feel almost like I’m in an apartment. I saw him going to and from the table a little later on, in his signature white T-shirt, as always. Why does he have to do this shit so close to our place? What’s wrong with taking his projects to the other side of his place? I just can’t get a neighbor who either works or is too lazy to do much more than sit inside in front of the TV. I just can’t. 

I realize that if we do go to Florida when he retires, we may as well get a condo or an apartment so we don’t have to be responsible for yard work or roofing or anything like that if we’re going to hear our neighbors anyway. What difference does it make if we can hear their TV vs. their circular saw? Or their vehicle doors slamming vs. their entry doors slamming as they came and went? 

Why can’t I be one of those who thrives on noise? Most people actually don’t mind or even enjoy hearing those around them, so why can’t I? Why can’t I consider it the “sounds of life,” too? So many people love to hear their neighbors because it makes them feel less alone in the world. I wish I could see it that way too, but if I did then I suppose I would only hate the nighttime and those few days when someone around here isn’t doing something or another I have to hear about. 

Later… 

So I was chatting with Andy on Ask as we do every day and mentioned that giving up my weekend treats would be like giving up a dear friend. How many of those do I have? he asked. LOL, I think he forgets that just because most of those I’m closest to aren’t local doesn’t make them any less special to me. I will admit, though, that most of those I’m close to who aren’t family are people I’ve never met. This is mostly because it’s so much easier to meet people online than in person. How many places do I go in person vs. websites online? Since most of the sites I frequent are social/writing sites, that makes it even easier to strike up a conversation with someone about whatever, realize you have things in common, then end up cyber buddies. 

Although I never met Aly, Christine, Nane, Adonis, Mitch and some folks from the writing sites, they’re still special to me just like Andy, Paula, Jessie, my VH sisters, Eileen, and a few others I haven’t seen in centuries that I knew back east. 

The one person I kept in touch with from Arizona blew it with her trust issues. While I totally understood why she had such serious trust issues since her life was a million times worse than mine, she’s the type that thinks everybody’s lying, and well, understanding something doesn’t always make it easier to deal with. The false accusations were driving me crazy, not to mention how highly offensive they were, and she eventually lost me when I got tired of defending and explaining myself to her. 

As for Oregon… I wasn’t there long enough to really get to know anyone, though there were two women and one guy I’d consider “almost” friends. One I can’t find on Facebook, the other two I never knew their last names, unfortunately, because I’d love to look them up. I was heavy into sweeping (and winning) in those days, so I spent half my time entering sweeps and the other half freezing my ass off, haha. But Jane the waitress, Liz the cashier, and Randy the mailman were the highlights of Oregon. So was Jan the gift shop owner that used to sell me incense till she traded brick and mortar for cyberspace. 

Our first 8 months in Cali were spent in an extended-stay hotel and while we became friends with the staff there, that didn’t carry over into our post-hotel stay. It wasn’t easy to meet people during the 5 years we lived in the woods either, though we’ve met some people since being here in the park that I either wave to or briefly chat with when I’m out exercising. No one we’ve grown close to yet with our busy lives, but friends are both important and not important to me. Meaning that if we acquire any good ones, fine. If we don’t, that’s fine, too. I believe most of the best things in life aren’t planned and I think that looking for friends doesn’t usually work any more than looking for love does. 

I don’t want friends just for the sake of having friends. I want special friends, and no, that doesn’t mean you have to be a hottie. I mean friends who are very important to me and that I’d find hard to imagine not having in my life, no matter what they may look like. Anyone can go out and “make” friends. But in order to qualify for a chance to be my friend, no matter where you live, you gotta really have something about you that hooks my interest because I am that picky. I’m hard to impress. Easy to lose, since I tend not to be a very forgiving person or one with a high tolerance to bullshit any more than to physical pain, but I’m hard to capture as well. I’ll be friends with any gender, size, color or nationality, but not just any person. If I’m meant to be close to anyone local, it will be by accident and not something I plan. I never “looked” for my past friends, be it those I’ve met in person or online, so why start now? 

For a work-at-home person who likes to keep busy, I don’t interact with many people and that, like most things, has its pros cuz it spares me from any potential bullshit. But again, my door isn’t closed to the possibility, so we’ll see what the future holds. In a way, I’m surprised I never struck up a friendship with someone in cyberspace from my area. Cali’s a big state and it sure as hell is plenty populated, too. Still, you better have something damn near amazing about you to stand a chance or else you could live right under my nose in Bob’s garage for all I care. :) 

Later… 

Speaking of friends I’m close to as mentioned in my previous entry, I can’t believe I’ll be seeing Andy in less than two months! :))) We’ll be heavier, blinder, older and grayer, but I don’t give a shit. I just want to throw my arms around him and hug the guy for the first time since 1999! 

In one of the surveys I did, I was asked if I thought those who committed 3 felonies should be imprisoned for life regardless of what the felonies were. 

Definitely not. First of all. some states like Arizona and Texas consider damn near everything a felony. Secondly, I think only violent people should be jailed/imprisoned and the rest should do probation. People stand to lose too much when put in jail… jobs, kids, homes. Probation is punishment enough for the non-violent offenders, and hardcore punishment has only proven not to be a very effective deterrent anyway. People are going to break the law no matter what the penalties may be because they don’t “plan” to get caught. 

I think rapists, however, should be jailed for life after the first offense. You can’t rehabilitate a rapist. I also think violence should be jailed for life after one offense, too. I don’t mean a slap in the face; I mean someone who’s drawn blood, broken bones, etc. So… throw the violent folks away for life after just one – maybe two – offenses, and let the rest do probation. 

I kept waiting for one of my nails to break at which time I would have cut the rest of them, but they just didn’t want to break. Finally fed up with them getting in the way of things, I cut them off yesterday morning.