When I met with my therapist last week one of the things we talked about was waking up after 2 or 3 hours and not being able to get back to sleep because I couldn't turn my mind off.
She spoke of recent studies that have shown America seems to be practically alone in its obsession with getting a "full night's sleep." 8 hours of sleep in a single, continuous slog doesn't seem to be the norm. Now, I'm not troubled that it is 0400 and I'm writing this instead of lying in bed trying to get my mi
Okay, I'm on a schedule. The mood stabilizer is supposed to be taken 12 hours apart. And, no, I am not keeping a diary. I know I should, but I'm not. I'm not that kind of person.
I've written two previous entries this week. Unfortunately, one is somewhere in GAland hiding under for barren patch of memory because I clicked when I shouldn't and the other because, well, I just didn't feel like posting it, some entries are simply not meant to live.
I'm back in therapy and my counselor is for
Went to the shrink yesterday and had a good visit. On past visits it's been "Hi, how're you doin'?", "Feelin' well?", "Okay, I'll see you in two months."
This time we seriously discussed me being severely depressed and he seemed to be listening. He suggested changes in the antidepressant I'm taking since the Celexa doesn't seem to be working as well as it should. His first suggestion was Zoloft. Second, he asked if I wanted to go back to Prozac, which worked fairly well. Unfortunately, I cou
I do not like my cable TV provider. They're obnoxious and charge too much for what they provide. Unfortunately, they have had the fastest internet service out this way for a long time. I, on the other hand, haven't succumbed to their enticements, mostly because they were too expensive. I figured if you can provide a gazillion bits per second as a matter of course, you shouldn't put an exorbitant charge on it just because you can.
So, I bided my time with DSL that ran at 56K at my house.
I go under the knife on February 11th; or rather they'll make a few holes in my right knee and blow it up like a balloon before doing what needs to be done. The surgeon didn't like the read of my MRI by Radiology. He said it was "under read." He's fairly certain there's a meniscal tear on the left side, but there is also the chance I'm dealing with a lot of bone on bone damage, too. He said that when he gets in, if there's too much damage (i.e., nothing he can repair to make my knee better for t
I think it was a couple weeks ago when I thought it was a shame you can't dream when you're dead. My dreams of late have been very, very good, so good, in fact, I want to dream more than I desire to be conscious. Of course, that's not right; probably borders on insanity.
A lot has been going on here. We bought a pickup Friday. It's a red 2003 Ford Ranger Edge SuperCab. It has the towing option so we might be able to get a travel trailer sometime in the future. I know getting the truck was no
Yesterday morning at breakfast I read "The Whore of Mensa" by Woody Allen. It's a nice, short parody of those old dectective stories with an interesting twist.
Last night I had an incredible dream of a fish hatchery tour, worn red brick, a small college graduation, and being much younger, like twenty-one, and looking for an apartment to share with, I think, six other guys. Puget Sound was on the wrong side of Seattle and it seemed more like the Pacific Ocean because of the sand dunes, lighth
It's been sunny, but cold the past couple days and the gray gloomies of winter are not affecting me so much. The knee is definitely worse, but I'm going in for an MRI tomorrow morning; the results will determine whether I go to Ortho for further treatment or get a cortisone shot from the PA-C I've been seeing. The exercises are not doing anything except making the knee hurt, but a good sign is most of the swelling is gone.
Depression-wise, I'm still down too much. I need to get back to somet
All night I had been plagued with explosive releases of pungent abdominal gas until I deigned to open the rear gate and allow a somewhat cohesive mass to drop into the water filled porcelain bowl upon which I sat. As I sat pondering the day ahead an unnatural squirting sound came from my belly. This was no rumbling, but a definite squirt followed another. There was rumbling, though. The rumbling of colonic distress, but I chose to ignore the ominous warnings.
I returned to bed and suprisingl
On the whole it wasn't totally bad, just kind of unmerry.
To put it simply, the wife and our son still do not get along. I think I'm getting tired of the subtle disrespect for each other. I don't know how many years this can continue. It's depressing, actually.
There was a good foot and a half of snow at my son's new house when we arrived Christmas Eve and it was snowing. The wind was blowing, too. Frankly, it looked rather nice, but the wind was making it miserable. When we woke Christm
I went to a PT last week and we determined most of my problem is in the knee, not the Iliotibial Band. I still can't walk for any length of time and I can't stand in one place for any length of time, which makes shopping a real torture. 'Tis the season to be tortured.
She gave me some exercises to do, but every time I do them I end up spending the next day on pain relievers (oh, they are sooo gooood) hobbling from bed to chair to toilet to bed. This shouldn't be going like this. Most of the
One of the aggravating things about going to a doctor is not coming away with a specific diagnosis. You go in with a pain right there and the doctor mumbles, "uh umm," and looks at the spot you're touching and causing nearly excrutiating pain. The doctor looks up at you and says, "Well, there's nothing there that should be hurting as you describe."
No matter how much you plead you can't make headway against medical science. If it not supposed to hurt there, there is no way you can convince t
I'm at the Space Age truck stop outside Hermiston, OR, getting ready to get back on the road. It's raining up on Snoqualmie Pass so I shouldn't have any problem running over the hill this morning; it's simply a matter of getting myself going.
Yesterday I didn't get myself going like I intended and ended up driving over the Blues in the snow. The weather forecast said it wasn't supposed to start until 10 p.m., but Mother Nature obviously doesn't get her clearances from NOAA. There must have b
http://www.kpho.com/news/18154062/detail.html
Ever think about limits, especialy your own?
Ever consider life so bad you have to set a limit to the grief or punishment you endure?
It seems the 8-year-old boy in Arizona who is charged with murdering his father and the man renting a room in their house had a limit.
1,000 spankings.
1,000.
One Thousand.
Think of an eight-year-old boy keeping a list of the spankings he received, probably for the meerest of reasons.
Th
Moving right along, I'll still have one more night on the road, probably up near Hermiston, OR. This is a familiar route, one I've been doing since coming back to the company.
There are alternatives, but those loads don't seem to be coming my way. I have yet to take a load into the LA area. I kind of like running up I-5; of course, now with the idling ban it wouldn't be so much fun, but there are alternatives going that way, too.
For the past couple days I've been trying to come to terms
If you're ever travelling US-287 between Amarillo and Witchita Falls, Texas, be sure to stop at one of these rest areas. Not only do they give you a really nice place to relieve those uncomfortable physiological urges, they're kind of interesting, too.
I could've written about Hedley, but with 379 people, there isn't a whole lot to say. It had it's heyday, but decline set in back in the 1950s and much of the focus in the area has been toward the larger cities in the area; Memphis to the east
Did you know Irving, TX, was more than likely actually named for Washington Irving?
I spent the night at our company yard in Irving. It's off 482 over near the old Cowboys stadium.
Yesterday, was mostly spent finding the next rest room. It wasn't a fructose issue though, just something I ate. One time I couldn't make it to a rest room and had to stop at a picnic area to make use of a garbage bag. Definitely not something I don't want to do everyday.
I have been working on Chapter 18.
Oh, piddles!
I tried to do an entry earlier, but when I clicked on Preview, nothing happened until IE informed me it couldn't display the request page. It had some really great stuff in it, too, but now it's gone to wherever lost blog entries go when IE can't get its act together.
Such is life.
Disconnected thoughts ...
I drove through Wilkinson, IN, today and was struck by its overwhelming quaintness. There were pumpkins everywhere. There were children playing in the park. There were people out talking to their neighbors (it must have been half-time). I imagined last night with a lot of trick-or-treaters going door to door without fear of being shot or poisoned. Other than the enormous Church of Christ at the edge of town, it was my kind of town. Pity that.
I got into some hig
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