*waves*

Hey.

Tons of seizures today. Okay. Tons is an overstatement. Actually, it makes no sense since it’s a measurement of weight, but whatever. Colloquialisms. You gotta love em. In all seriousness, though, I can only recall time travel 3 or 4 times today and 2 naps. I’d be worried that I was having an MS relapse if not for the fact that we saw this coming months ago. Hell, we even planned the wedding around it. The dreaded “monthly” or, in my case “quarterly” visitor.

It really is astonishing to me how significant a player hormones are in not only a person’s ability to control their mood but in their body’s ability to control itself. My usual way of handling things (sitting on the couch watching what is available for free on the internet and on Netflix or Blockbuster and letting the pain pass as it needs to) is unfortunately not helping at the moment due to my choice of subject matter.

I’ve been watching Deadwood.

Now, you’d think that an awesome HBO series about the Old West and Bill Hickock and Calamity Jane and old town saloons and whores and gun slingin’ and poker would have shit all to do with MS and seizure disorder.

But you would be wrong.

Because, see, there’s this fuckin AWESOME good character in there who is the right Reverend of this community. And the Reverend suffers from something that no one knows the cause of. The doctor suspects it’s lesions in his brain. Yep. MS. In the Old West. Speaking prophecy between sermons. Later he starts having seizures. I shit you not.

About then’s when I looked up at the ceiling in real life and thought to myself, “Really, God? REALLY?” (And yes, for that moment and a half, I was that narcissistic in my thinking. ALL OF THAT PRODUCTION WORK WAS JUST FOR ME!!! FOR THAT MOMENT!) I mean, ultimately what he had going on took a rather gnarly turn — that’s where we’re at in the show right now, and I have to say, it’s upsetting to watch.

Then again, it was the old west, and he was without a whole lot of the doctors and medicine I have in my corner right now. And he was ….fictional. There is that. Just based on someone real. That matters to me.

Still, I don’t think it was a mistake that I see this show.

I don’t think it’s a mistake that I take further interest in the man who the Reverend was based on. He did a lot of good despite his condition, despite poverty, and despite corruption and lack of law in his area. And I do believe that if there is a God that it is his will that I exist the way that I do for some reason, and that it need not be one that I understand, simply one that I accept… that being the case, and my knowing he felt the same way, for some reason, when I saw that part today, it felt like something unlocked in me, sort of like how something “pings” in a video game. “Quest Unlocked” I don’t know why, but there’s something of the Old West in me. I just know it.

I am very glad to be a resident of the State of California once again today, as being one has allowed me the freedom to medicate myself in a way that has allowed me to find a way to accept my condition today. Too many seizures and too much arthritis pain have made me angry at this disease. I feel trapped in the house. I feel that I have been made “lesser than”, and it is my will, my fondest desire to fight back, and to fight back hard with all of my heart against it. To rise up and to beat it down into its place.

I want to go out and do things. I want to have a life. Instead, I’m hurting all over.

Just last week, I got to hang out with my friends Laura and Nathan for dinner so I know I’m blowing shit all out of proportion like a crybaby, and the worst thing is… *smirk* this is so … normal! 🙂

LOL! Oh thank God, as I’m writing this, I’m ready to sob like a girl because I’m having PMS like I ought to.

I’m a freakin mess. *lol* Apparently it’s time to go to bed. One of these days, I’ll actually phone a friend instead of whine online.

Missy Till, I miss you. Melissa Meridith, I miss you. Robin, Nina, Sarah, Mandy, Deb, AH HELL, IF YOU WERE AT THE WEDDING, ASSUME IT. I love you people. xxoxoxoxox night.

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