I was almost late leaving on the journey to my CT Scan destination at UBC Hospital, the same hospital that I had my infamous ass surgery at because I was playing with the ILike application on Facebook. I was catching a cab with my friend Stephanie from her place so I had to go there first. I had to pee really bad when I got there because I had been required to drink a litre of water about an hour and a half before, plus it is HOT here right now so drinking extra water is necessary I couldn’t eat but that was no big deal because who has an appetite in the heat? Not me. We got into a cab with air conditioning and Stephanie talked to the cab driver. She is friendlier than me.

The horrid memories of my ass surgery came rushing back to me because I went in the same entrance but once inside I went in a totally different direction. At the radiology area there were a crap load of people sitting there and I got pretty concerned and almost stressed out that we were going to be there all day and here was Stephanie bringing me there and back in a cab I SO did not want her sitting there forever. Thankfully we were sent down the hall and there was an In Touch magazine there and even though it was from October 2006 none of the gossip is true anyway so it is LIKE new when you have never seen the issue no matter how old anyway. You could see the CT scanner from where we were sitting and everyone getting scans was old.

Right after I took another pee I was taken into an area to get an IV. I really do not like IVs, not at all. But I never saw the needle, this was definitely a bonus. I ask as I always do when they go for my left arm if it is OK that I am left handed because of COURSE the whole room is set up to only put IVs in left arms. Because my luck never fails me I got the nurse, brand new at the hospital, who did know how to put in IVs but she was still being shown where everything was and ‘how they do it’ at UBC Hospital, as I listen to them discuss how it works THERE I am inserted with the IV. Big prick. Little sting. Comments on my tattoo. At first it is just a saline drip, I’m taken right in and lay on the table under the scanner, they put pads on either side of my head but my head was too small to keep in place so they strapped it in and I suddenly felt like I was in A Clockwork Orange but not really just sort of. The first few scans were contrast injection [iodine] free. I tried really hard not to move and didn’t get itchy anywhere and stared up into the massive machine spinning above me until I thought I might get dizzy. When they inject the iodine they come back in and hold your arm to make sure it is going in properly and they give you the warning that you will likely feel heat start at the back of the throat and find its way down the body into the crotch area where it again will feel HOT and MAY feel like you are peeing yourself. Awesome.

There is no warning for what that feels like I sure don’t remember having fire crotch from my scan in 1994 in fact in 1994 I had to hold the tube with iodine in it in my hand with the IV in my arm AND not move so at least the process has come a ways or it may just be that I had that CT scan in Terrace we will never know. The fire crotch was a high point because you really can’t help but laugh, I mean I was laying there flexing my kegels like mad JUST to make sure I was not peeing myself but there was no pleasure it was flat out FIRE CROTCH.

I had to sit with my IV for about ten minutes because the iodine dehydrates you and then I got a band aid on my owie from the IV needle and we went on our way. We had the same cab driver on the way back. And I gotta say thanks again to Stephanie because for a hospital visit and fire crotch in already 30 degree weather it was a pretty damn fun day!

Yesterday I spent most of the day sleeping. I tried really hard to stay up but my depression just completely over took me and it was bed for me. I wanted to read to avoid bed but couldn’t pick my book up. I was freezing and slept in my full track suit and staggered out of bed about thirty minutes before Adam walked in from work. I’ve been trying to fight this off for almost two weeks now but am losing the battle. Each day I seem to be getting worse. I am feeling defeated. And it makes me cry.

I feel like I tried hard, but what does that matter. I found a combination of medications that were working for me, or so I thought, there was bright light at the end of the tunnel. I was feeling good about myself; I was being social, answering my phone, leaving my apartment, running, reading a lot. Right now I have a major headache and I can’t eat which I know is not helping the headache. It is warm out and all my windows are closed because I am freezing. I want go to bed now but I normally try to make it till early afternoon.

I’m pissed off that I have side affects from my medication that are serious enough I need a bloody CT scan. I got called for my appointment yesterday but haven’t called back yet because it is at a stupid hospital far away from where I live and I’m starting to wonder if my Dr. is retarded seriously how fucking hard is it to book me into a hospital near my home not over an hour away on transit, I had my ass surgery there as well and it was a total inconvenience and ended in me barfing in my friend Dvo’s truck due to the crazy driving and ridiculously long drive home. The receptionist at my Doctor’s office is a bitch and I’m just not in the mood to deal with her.

The drop in the Risperidone is really fucking with me. My hormones because I’m producing prolactin when I’m not pregnant are making me feel like I have 24 hour a day PMS. While my ‘breast milk’ is not really going away due one to me playing with my boobs constantly and two because I am still on SOME risperidone my extreme paranoia [negative attentional bias] has returned with a vengeance I can’t even imagine how bad it’ll be get when I’m off the risperidone completely. There are other drugs that can be added back to my cocktail so I will be back on track but that isn’t the point, isn’t even CLOSE TO THE POINT.

I can’t handle the simplest things right now. If I try to talk to someone on MSN and they are ONLINE and ignore me, they hate me. If I’m talking to someone and they sign off-line, they hate me. I’m finding myself jealous of everything and feeling left out of everything and feeling like no one wants to hang out with me. I am feeling like I am annoying everyone and unaccepted. I’m taking everything personally, even things that have NOTHING to do with me or do they I seriously don’t know and am jumping to conclusions because I can’t control my emotions or my feelings. I am so fucking selfish I hate myself a lot, I can’t see past the end of my fucking nose half the time and I don’t even know why people are friends with me because I act like the world revolves around me and all my problems are the end of the world. All or nothing thinking is for pussies and I’m a pussy. I feel like my mind is driving me insane. I wanted to take my whole bottle of clonazepam this morning but didn’t because it won’t kill me anyway and Dr. Buttle will just make me get my dosages in weekly re-fills for months again like last time I pulled that shit. It is fucked because even though I am back to planning out possible suicide attempts in grand detail in my mind that take up many hours of staring off into space I am in a space where even though I can’t stop planning it I don’t really want to die at present I just want to sleep till I’m not depressed anymore. The only problem is my reasons for wanting to live are not my reasons, they aren’t for me.

I’m feeling overwhelmed by all the things I am supposed to be working on in therapy so that one day I can come off medication which is obviously not ever going to happen because I can’t even handle a 25mg drop in ONE of three meds I take. My mindfulness training, my meditation, my empathy exercises and breathing I can’t or won’t do any of it right now because it all seems fucking pointless. And honestly learning how to feel empathy and put myself in other peoples shoes because I’m a selfish fucking bitch is just making me feel worse about myself.

Over the years I’ve had some petty interesting side affects taking anti-depressants. Or I thought I had. And now I can’t even really think of many, there is always the weight gain, I have never been spared the sexual side affects, this one time I went on a drug that exacerbated all of my worst depression symptoms and I went NUTS until I was off of it. Coming off meds I’ve had the regular side affects, night sweats, the shakes, nightmares, anxiety, basically it isn’t fun.

One day I was inspecting my boobs, the whole boob, nipples included; just inspecting them, nothing serious and I noticed on both nipples a bubble of fluid appeared. I instantly started squeezing my nipple but hardly any more fluid was coming out. I love picking at stuff, it is like a bloody drug. But I somehow forgot about the fluid in my nipples until after a run a week or so later, they had become a little irritated and I was tentatively scratching them when again fluid appeared on the tips of my nipples. During this inspection I must have pressed on the areola and gotten a bit of my breast in with it because fluid gushed out. The fluid was clear with a milky, yellowish color and I pressed and pressed and let it run down my chest till it was drained and then did the other side. I was in a trance. It was like having six zits lined up in a row that you KNOW are going to explode onto the mirror but better. Although on one hand I was concerned the fascination of being able to drain fluid down my chest from my nipples was winning over because for one it didn’t hurt.

I do not know why but I kept this to myself. I was embarrassed which honestly made no sense to me having had and written extensively about my ass surgery. In the beginning I didn’t even become obsessed with nipple draining I didn’t tell Adam for probably two weeks. Nothing I read on-line in regards to leaky nipples was good so I decided to also tell Terra and she said it sounded like breast milk and I should for sure go have it looked at but I knew I wasn’t pregnant and apparently breast milk doesn’t come in right away. I’d probably had it for going on three or four weeks by this time.

I went to a walk in clinic and got the same Dr. I got last time when I went in because my allergies were really really bad and I knew there was nothing that could be done but I was being a baby. GREAT. Now I get to tell this Dr. about my leaky nipples and show her because she made me I pressed out a nice bubble of fluid and she passed me a tissue. She sent me for blood tests, one for pregnancy and one that would measure my prolactin levels.

I got called back for the test results the next day and was totally afraid I was pregnant but am not, awesome. But my prolactin levels were HIGH the Dr. [a new one this time] started going off on how this was bad and asked about all my medications wrote them all down and started to get all serious and saying he was going to send me to an endocrinologist, and that I was going to need a CAT scan an MRI and that I could have tumors. I hear tumors and basically heard nothing else after that. I could feel the color drain from my face. I said “Tumors??”

This Dr. was so extreme I didn’t even realize he is talking about tumors in my head and not my breasts at first. All I knew was that I had real breast milk coming out of my nipples and I didn’t have a baby on the way to feed. I entered back into reality and decided this really wasn’t working for me and requested that all of this information be sent to my actual family Dr. and I would deal with it from there. Nothing he was saying was making any sense and it was really freaking me out and I told him I would rather deal with one Dr. instead of seeing a different bloody Dr. every time I went to the walk in clinic. My Dr. is a bit of a trek I only go over to her for big things. I figured this warranted a visit. I made the appropriate appointment.

Now in between all of this non pleasurable action happening around my breasts I had a therapy appointment and I went in all stressed out and let my story stream out from the first detail. The explaining how I discovered the actual fluid being the most comfortable part to tell.

Dr. Buttle after listening attentively to my experience at the walk in clinic and my fears over all the urgency asked me why I had never mentioned this was happening in a previous session. [Well shit man I was embarrassed of course, and did not see what relevance it had to my therapy now the cat is out of the bag and I’m stressed.] [Obviously.] This was where he mentioned that risperidone the newest drug added to my cocktail can cause a woman to start producing prolactin, it is rare at the dose I’m on [of course] but that is what he felt was causing it. And he instantly lowered my risperidone dosage.

It was decided that I would not see my family Dr. until my therapist had a chance to talk things over with her because although it was ‘probably’ just the medication causing it there was talk of a CAT scan and talk of more blood tests.

As it stands now I have seen my Dr. and gone for a second set of blood tests where they took lots of my blood, results should be back soon, and I am waiting to hear when my CAT scan is and I go back for more blood tests in July. At first I was pretty worried because the fluid was not slowing down but now it is so I am definitely leaning towards medication side affects and not that I’m dying. Having the prolactin levels high in my system when I’m not pregnant can cause its own set of new problems but right now I am just concentrating on the positive like being able to offer myself as a wet nurse to Terra. I can’t think of a better gift to offer a friend with a baby.

I had a dream last night that I was in Athens but I kept asking everyone where Greece was. I�m scared to even attempt to analyze that one.

A very important anniversary is fast approaching it is next Friday to be exact, the anniversary of my [u]Ass Surgery[/u], my [u]Rhoid surgery[/u]. I won an award as you may remember courtesy of [u]Jeckles[/u] and the [u]Shitty Blogs Club[/u]. I WON shitty blog of month for blogging through what was one of the most invasive experiences in my life thus far. All I need now is, no wait, I already had extra cells burned off my cervix and watched it on camera and had a reaction to the HUGE freezing needle they stick up in you before the camera and seeing your own cervix on a screen monitor and cells being burned off CAN cause you to convulse and almost pass out so really I guess there are no other surgeries for me to have that would feel more invasive when I had RHOID surgery before even 30 for crying out loud before even having a baby.

Recently I was constipated for like two weeks and man let me tell you, LET ME TELL YOU how thankful I was, the most thankful I�ve been since the surgery after how horrid it was to have had those fuckers removed HAD I NOT I would NOT have been able to FIVE STAR almost all 40 songs on MEDIUM level of Guitar Hero II- PLUS I Five Stared Trogdor in the Bonus Level- because I�d have the rhoids so big I�d be in bed or the bath and suffering. Although I am still not fully happy with the surgery results I would still highly recommend it.

From now on February 9th will be our faux Valentines Day because we don�t celebrate it Valentines Day is EVIL. I wasn�t planning on celebrating February 9th but in some ways I did get a new asshole it was Adam that said we should celebrate it, I really can�t remember I just know Adam is taking me to NEKO CASE!!!!! AGAIN!!! BUT this time it is in a club and I�ll be able to get up close and act like a crazed fan- I WILL be able to yell out SING THE TRAIN FROM KANSAS CITY, and she will because I�ll look all cute in the T-shirt I bought at her show in July that two of my other bloggy friends also have.

If you’d like to join in on the celebration of my new asshole/2006 Ass Surgery I won’t stop you it is pretty exciting.

[b]When this stage of this tattoo was finished it was winter.[/b] I still gotta add in flowers. It was December to be exact so even though not overly cold here winter none the less and it was always covered unless I was at home because at home I have been known to wear tank tops year round so if you wanted to see it you had to be visiting and I had to be in a tank top or I had to say HEY wanna see my new tattoo.

I’ve always been a bad tattoo gawker atter type person. I won’t approach someone other than say a slight lean in and I don’t randomly start talking to people about their tattoos but I am a gawker. I will strain my neck out as far as it will go to see WHAT IS ON THAT ARM or leg or neck or exposed part that shouldn’t be exposed in public part. But of course I never thought about it. I just love tattoos and I like to people watch. I become fixated easily and do get caught staring a lot. Some strangers probably think I’m certifiably insane when I have my stare face on.
All of my other tattoos are small I had no idea what I was in for. NONE.

At first it was simply funny. People were staring at me a lot, turning back to look before they were fully past me. I knew it was just the arm but it still took some getting used to once unveiled before the random eyes of the public giving me a taste of what I’d been doing to other people for years. At first it made me insecure, I was not used to that much attention, I’m used to being stared at for being loud rude and obnoxious not for art. People would say things to me which didn’t surprise me but didn’t impress me either because I had made a point of not doing that to other tattooed people but I do understand if you put a piece of art like that on your body that big some people are going to ask about it. Ask about it on the sky train, the street, in stores, restaurants, when I’m walking down the street on my cell phone and etc.

Other than in writing in comments on gus greeer and one on my flickr and through word of mouth no one has ever to my face said anything negative about it. Key words ‘to my face’. I take issue with people who get tattoos just to get fucking tattoos and put no thought into them and basically take them off the wall because they think they are cool. Un huh you are SO cool. Temporary tattoos exist for a reason. I have no problem with people hating mine I just think it is funny when they say mean things about it and then find out how personal it is it may not make them like it anymore but they look like assholes. It isn’t very comfortable for people when they do ask about it because they normally think it is a panther and get a no it is my cat. ‘Oh you have a black cat’? No she is grey. ‘And the scull butterfly thing’? That is dedicated to someone who killed himself. Followed by blank stare and uncomfortable silence.

But then I got used to it. Enjoyed it, sucked it in, ate it up. Let it give me confidence; let it make me feel tough. It is intimidating looking. It gave me this weird sense of security. It has also helped in my learning to be nice to people who ask stupid questions.
Now it is fall here. Vancouver does have a really hard time giving up their sandals and tank tops, they’d rather just put a winter scarf around same said out fit and call it warmer clothing. But it is colder and therefore my tattoo is now covered out doors. I didn’t notice it at first but then like walking into a tree branch as I do with regularity it hit me. I’m not so tough looking anymore. This sucks. Give me back my new identifier tag. I was thinking I’d just cut the arms out of my shirts but leave the shoulder and forearm part so I feel tough again. This is an insane revelation I had no idea I had let it go to my head like that until I couldn’t hide behind it because it was fucking covered. Here I was thinking I was all confident for reals now and it was only because of an arm tattoo. Holy I really pulled one over on myself. Whatever the stupid confidence is in me but I’ll probably still cut all my shirts up.

I have this silly memory of the very first time I went home after I moved out. My parents still lived in Terrace for a while after I moved to Vancouver. I don�t even think I had lived in Vancouver that long in fact I was probably living in Dirty Burn [Burnaby, a suburb]. I know it was also the Thanksgiving long weekend though because John Denver died that weekend and it was really fucking trippy to all three of us that I just happened to be home when the artist that I had grown up listening to, saw live at three with Gordon Lightfoot at Canada�s Wonder Land and as an adult still love like he is still here had died and we just happened to be together when it happened, when he crashed his plane. Most people have no idea how much that man did for music and tried to do for music for the protection of freedom of speech for artists.

My Dad and I had this tradition that faded in and out depending on my age that we always went to movies together. The movie theatre in Terrace is the worst theater in the entire world. Ok fine so your feet stick to the floor but fuck it�s the seats, the worst seats EVER. I have no idea what movie it was but it was like less than a half and hour till it started and I was getting nervous and feeling anxiety and I was like Dad we gotta go man we gotta go we are going to be late what are you doing lets GO!!! He swiftly reminded me we were on northern time and we left five minutes before the movie started and made it on time drove there and everything didn�t even miss the previews. I bet you it is the Terrace movie theatre that is responsible for my having to have ass surgery.