everything everywhere all at once.
14 November 2025 01:10![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafaeryIt's 1am and I should be asleep, normally I would be winding down at Coffin Club, but I am still just too exhausted and also a bloody mess right now (sorry TMI, it's an extra heavy flow month this time, thanks perimenopause).
Crashed when I got home from my first day of in-person work (I am kind of always working) since we moved on Sunday. I wanted to cry all day. I feel bad, I couldn't hide it. Ginny, one of my 70+ ladies, always brightens my day and she made me feel a lot better, she's very upbeat and also gentle and also wise and also funny and kind, she is affluent and has a huge family and loves to travel to all sorts of exotic locations, but she is also very sensitive to those of us who don't have those things, she didn't always have it easy, she is understanding and sympathetic - you can be rich without being disconnected, turns out. She is a rare bird. Very precious.
It's been difficult, I am so tired, I am trying very hard to be grateful. Josh is clingy and I just want to be left alone, but it will get better. I fear I have made him too dependent on me. He simply went without eating yesterday, because I wasn't cooking for him like usual - I had stayed up late multiple nights trying to clean and set up the kitchen, I did grocery shopping and thought I set him up with everything he needed to fend for himself, but he just... didn't. He said there was nothing to eat. The fridge is full of food. What more can I do? I didn't have time to cook and box up ready-to-eat meals for him. The pantry is full of food. He just doesn't know how to eat it, unless it's prepared and plated, I guess? He said he doesn't know how this kitchen works yet, which I do understand. But he also hasn't lifted a finger to get it set up, it has taken me so many late nights and long hours of cleaning and sorting and organizing. If he'd helped at all, he'd know how it works.
I went and got more groceries of things that are healthy but easier to put together, things like a bag of baby carrots and hummus and crackers, and bagged spinach and a package of roasted chicken and sliced and shredded cheeses so he can make salad, and I was able to cook him dinner last night so he had leftovers for lunch and dinner today, he is much happier and more functional, now that he is fed.
I am not.
Because I've focused on the kitchen and dining room and living room and bathrooms, my own living space still looks like a tornado hit it, everything is still in boxes, I can't find things I need, I have no idea where medications and makeup and personal care items are, etc., it's completely non-functional and really uncomfortable. But his comfort came first.
I need to do laundry and build my dressers and organize and so many other things, it's overwhelming. I am so tired.
I miss the crows. I was at the old apartment today, checking mail and walking through to see how the cleaners did (it looks great, and they found a little basket of cookie cutters and sprinkles I'd not seen in a cupboard, grateful for that), and I had such a flush of anger for the upstairs neighbor letting his dog off leash to barge into our apartment and attack my cat and I last year and basically ruin my life. I was sick with a cascade of infections resulting from that attack for months, and we never felt safe after that, so we had to move. Awful, awful, awful. I'm so angry I got chased out of my home by a negligent dog owner. Who just gets to go about his life like nothing happened.
I miss the east side a lot. I am glad I still work there. There is just more light. The west side of portland is dark and damp and depressing. We don't get clouds of crows, here. I am making friends with a local pair, they have met Avalanche and are already (correctly) convinced she is not a threat.
There was a soft rainbow and a hazy orange sunset that flared into fiery pinks and oranges with swaths of bright turquoise sky showing through, at the old apartment, so beautiful.
My porch spider is still here, looking fat and happy. It is getting colder and rainier but she has shelter and her trusty porchlight to attract dinner.
I love the little thrift store chairs I got for the backyard, they were $8 and they are so comfy and perfect. I got $6 little stools too, that can hold drinks or be sat on. I got a little chair for the front porch too, though that's not a fun place to hang out, so might just be a spot to set groceries while unlocking.
We still need proper stools for the kitchen bar area.
My commute is not bad. My shins hurt from all the extra driving, though, it's 26 miles instead of 4, to get there and back.
...
There was a wreck on my way from aerial to errands on Wednesday and due to some confusion and distraction, my car gently bumped another car as we were trying to get around it (it was straddling a lane and I didn't see it behind me, I was trying to get out of the way by rolling backward slowly and our cars touched - probably more my fault, but we were both doing weird things). I pulled over, so did the other driver. A shiny black SUV with a not small dent on one side. The driver was a beautiful younger lighter skinned black lady with bright green eyes that sparkled in the sun, and beautiful full curls. She smiled softly, and looked relaxed, I also smiled as reassuringly as I could, we both checked our cars, no real damage, "let's just say nothing happened!" we smiled and waved each other off. There are good people out there and good things happen every day. It was so scary to hear that metal-on-metal sound, especially while looking at the results of a very recent very bad collision (the guy was out on the street examining his extensive truck damage while large metal pieces were falling off of it), but it was nothing worrisome at all. I have not had a vehicle collision, other then a tiny rear-end collision once in LA when I was 24, so this felt like the end of the world for a few seconds, I thought my bumper would be scrunched, but there was barely a scratch on either of our cars.
..
Josh has been very patient and very supportive in the ways he is good at. It is hard setting up the entire house (other than his office and bedroom) alone, I wasn't expecting it to all be me, and I keep finding unexpected gross hidden messes that I have to furiously clean. It felt like too much to expect me to cook meals for him in the midst of all this, I thought he understood this, at the very least he could just go buy food somewhere, but we do this so rarely it's just not a thing he can automatically do, I guess. Now that I've unearthed mostly everything, like say, the can opener, he can manage better. I think he's starting to figure it out, he actually cooked himself eggs this morning and unloaded the dishwasher at some point today.
..
Work again tomorrow, I have to get up early for counseling, I am in need of a shower, but I think I can get through it.
I need to change my address with the post office in the morning, as Saturday is technically our last day of renting the apartment. I need to change it everywhere else, too. It's an endless to-do list and I just want to rest. And be in nature again.
...
Unfortunately, my surgery and the procedures that precede it are all scheduled for December, which is my busiest month for work usually. It will mean losing the last half of December, which is my favorite time to work. But I couldn't choose, they want to do this asap, and with so many other breast cancer horror stories I don't want to let it linger, in case it is something worse than they think. I just want to get it done with as soon as possible. After this, I will have annual MRIs for my breasts for the rest of my life, as my level 4 density doesn't scan well in mammography or ultrasound, and I have high risk factors.
I met a new physical therapist on Wednesday and I kind of love him. We have a plan for my back, he is very reassuring and encouraging, and he thinks he can help with my foot, too. I feel the most hopeful for my body than I've felt in a very long time. After the spring, I have felt so scared and defeated. This PT wants to reverse all of that. I hope it is not all smoke and mirrors and empty promises, but, he seems to know his stuff and I am willing to give it a go, at least for now. I do not think any of my previous providers have been bad, in retrospect. I didn't get what I needed from them but that isn't really their fault, I only got what I could hear from them at the time, if that makes sense. Piecing all of their efforts together, I think, is the best way for me to achieve optimum health.
One of the odd things about the breast health issue is the way everyone said "how high" when my biopsy results said "jump." All my life I feel like I've had lackadaisical health care from providers that didn't really want to help with insurance fighting every inch of the way. But all of my needs up until this point have been preventative or quality-of-life issues, not actually life-or-death issues.
Turns out in the American healthcare system, as soon as something comes anywhere close to life-threatening, the care suddenly gets extremely good. Nobody wants to hear us whining about being in pain, nobody wants to prioritize quality of life, and I get that it's a vague target and some people may never be satisfied. But with my mood disorders, my migraines, even my congenital hip dysplasia, these were all considered elective treatments. I always felt an underlying current of, "would you please leave us alone to do real work and just suck it up." A very American attitude toward pain and disability.
But this breast stuff? Nothing "elective" about it. They're super stoked to slice and dice. They haven't given me an option to decline.
It's such a weird feeling.
This and my broken arm (my brother broke my arm when I was four), and maybe my wisdom teeth surgery? Are the only times I felt like my healthcare providers actually *wanted* to help me, are eager and even excited to help me, without me having to drag them into it kicking and screaming.
I am sort of looking forward to a very quiet xmas, hunkered down in recovery mode on the couch with tea and an electric blanket and my cat.
I am considering making Josh and Tyler go with me to a u-cut xmas tree farm, for our first xmas in this house. Maybe Cynthia and Derrick, too. I don't know how to strap a tree to my car? But I am willing to try. It doesn't have to be big. But I want one. Not every year. But this year. It's been so long. It will help me recover, to have a real tree, I think. I think of it like a giant cut flower. It's sad to cut them but that's what they grow them for, it's okay. I have used a fake tree for so many years and I will keep doing so. I just, this time, want to try, maybe. If I can get some friends to help. My MRI is scheduled for Dec 4, maybe for the weekend after that? I don't have to get a real tree. just a fun idea to think about. Josh loves my little fake one, it's light and easy to assemble and looks pretty nice actually.
I wonder if my xmas tree ornaments made it through the move in tact. I always try to pack them carefully but being loaded in an out of a big truck is more than they usually endure. We'll see.
Crashed when I got home from my first day of in-person work (I am kind of always working) since we moved on Sunday. I wanted to cry all day. I feel bad, I couldn't hide it. Ginny, one of my 70+ ladies, always brightens my day and she made me feel a lot better, she's very upbeat and also gentle and also wise and also funny and kind, she is affluent and has a huge family and loves to travel to all sorts of exotic locations, but she is also very sensitive to those of us who don't have those things, she didn't always have it easy, she is understanding and sympathetic - you can be rich without being disconnected, turns out. She is a rare bird. Very precious.
It's been difficult, I am so tired, I am trying very hard to be grateful. Josh is clingy and I just want to be left alone, but it will get better. I fear I have made him too dependent on me. He simply went without eating yesterday, because I wasn't cooking for him like usual - I had stayed up late multiple nights trying to clean and set up the kitchen, I did grocery shopping and thought I set him up with everything he needed to fend for himself, but he just... didn't. He said there was nothing to eat. The fridge is full of food. What more can I do? I didn't have time to cook and box up ready-to-eat meals for him. The pantry is full of food. He just doesn't know how to eat it, unless it's prepared and plated, I guess? He said he doesn't know how this kitchen works yet, which I do understand. But he also hasn't lifted a finger to get it set up, it has taken me so many late nights and long hours of cleaning and sorting and organizing. If he'd helped at all, he'd know how it works.
I went and got more groceries of things that are healthy but easier to put together, things like a bag of baby carrots and hummus and crackers, and bagged spinach and a package of roasted chicken and sliced and shredded cheeses so he can make salad, and I was able to cook him dinner last night so he had leftovers for lunch and dinner today, he is much happier and more functional, now that he is fed.
I am not.
Because I've focused on the kitchen and dining room and living room and bathrooms, my own living space still looks like a tornado hit it, everything is still in boxes, I can't find things I need, I have no idea where medications and makeup and personal care items are, etc., it's completely non-functional and really uncomfortable. But his comfort came first.
I need to do laundry and build my dressers and organize and so many other things, it's overwhelming. I am so tired.
I miss the crows. I was at the old apartment today, checking mail and walking through to see how the cleaners did (it looks great, and they found a little basket of cookie cutters and sprinkles I'd not seen in a cupboard, grateful for that), and I had such a flush of anger for the upstairs neighbor letting his dog off leash to barge into our apartment and attack my cat and I last year and basically ruin my life. I was sick with a cascade of infections resulting from that attack for months, and we never felt safe after that, so we had to move. Awful, awful, awful. I'm so angry I got chased out of my home by a negligent dog owner. Who just gets to go about his life like nothing happened.
I miss the east side a lot. I am glad I still work there. There is just more light. The west side of portland is dark and damp and depressing. We don't get clouds of crows, here. I am making friends with a local pair, they have met Avalanche and are already (correctly) convinced she is not a threat.
There was a soft rainbow and a hazy orange sunset that flared into fiery pinks and oranges with swaths of bright turquoise sky showing through, at the old apartment, so beautiful.
My porch spider is still here, looking fat and happy. It is getting colder and rainier but she has shelter and her trusty porchlight to attract dinner.
I love the little thrift store chairs I got for the backyard, they were $8 and they are so comfy and perfect. I got $6 little stools too, that can hold drinks or be sat on. I got a little chair for the front porch too, though that's not a fun place to hang out, so might just be a spot to set groceries while unlocking.
We still need proper stools for the kitchen bar area.
My commute is not bad. My shins hurt from all the extra driving, though, it's 26 miles instead of 4, to get there and back.
...
There was a wreck on my way from aerial to errands on Wednesday and due to some confusion and distraction, my car gently bumped another car as we were trying to get around it (it was straddling a lane and I didn't see it behind me, I was trying to get out of the way by rolling backward slowly and our cars touched - probably more my fault, but we were both doing weird things). I pulled over, so did the other driver. A shiny black SUV with a not small dent on one side. The driver was a beautiful younger lighter skinned black lady with bright green eyes that sparkled in the sun, and beautiful full curls. She smiled softly, and looked relaxed, I also smiled as reassuringly as I could, we both checked our cars, no real damage, "let's just say nothing happened!" we smiled and waved each other off. There are good people out there and good things happen every day. It was so scary to hear that metal-on-metal sound, especially while looking at the results of a very recent very bad collision (the guy was out on the street examining his extensive truck damage while large metal pieces were falling off of it), but it was nothing worrisome at all. I have not had a vehicle collision, other then a tiny rear-end collision once in LA when I was 24, so this felt like the end of the world for a few seconds, I thought my bumper would be scrunched, but there was barely a scratch on either of our cars.
..
Josh has been very patient and very supportive in the ways he is good at. It is hard setting up the entire house (other than his office and bedroom) alone, I wasn't expecting it to all be me, and I keep finding unexpected gross hidden messes that I have to furiously clean. It felt like too much to expect me to cook meals for him in the midst of all this, I thought he understood this, at the very least he could just go buy food somewhere, but we do this so rarely it's just not a thing he can automatically do, I guess. Now that I've unearthed mostly everything, like say, the can opener, he can manage better. I think he's starting to figure it out, he actually cooked himself eggs this morning and unloaded the dishwasher at some point today.
..
Work again tomorrow, I have to get up early for counseling, I am in need of a shower, but I think I can get through it.
I need to change my address with the post office in the morning, as Saturday is technically our last day of renting the apartment. I need to change it everywhere else, too. It's an endless to-do list and I just want to rest. And be in nature again.
...
Unfortunately, my surgery and the procedures that precede it are all scheduled for December, which is my busiest month for work usually. It will mean losing the last half of December, which is my favorite time to work. But I couldn't choose, they want to do this asap, and with so many other breast cancer horror stories I don't want to let it linger, in case it is something worse than they think. I just want to get it done with as soon as possible. After this, I will have annual MRIs for my breasts for the rest of my life, as my level 4 density doesn't scan well in mammography or ultrasound, and I have high risk factors.
I met a new physical therapist on Wednesday and I kind of love him. We have a plan for my back, he is very reassuring and encouraging, and he thinks he can help with my foot, too. I feel the most hopeful for my body than I've felt in a very long time. After the spring, I have felt so scared and defeated. This PT wants to reverse all of that. I hope it is not all smoke and mirrors and empty promises, but, he seems to know his stuff and I am willing to give it a go, at least for now. I do not think any of my previous providers have been bad, in retrospect. I didn't get what I needed from them but that isn't really their fault, I only got what I could hear from them at the time, if that makes sense. Piecing all of their efforts together, I think, is the best way for me to achieve optimum health.
One of the odd things about the breast health issue is the way everyone said "how high" when my biopsy results said "jump." All my life I feel like I've had lackadaisical health care from providers that didn't really want to help with insurance fighting every inch of the way. But all of my needs up until this point have been preventative or quality-of-life issues, not actually life-or-death issues.
Turns out in the American healthcare system, as soon as something comes anywhere close to life-threatening, the care suddenly gets extremely good. Nobody wants to hear us whining about being in pain, nobody wants to prioritize quality of life, and I get that it's a vague target and some people may never be satisfied. But with my mood disorders, my migraines, even my congenital hip dysplasia, these were all considered elective treatments. I always felt an underlying current of, "would you please leave us alone to do real work and just suck it up." A very American attitude toward pain and disability.
But this breast stuff? Nothing "elective" about it. They're super stoked to slice and dice. They haven't given me an option to decline.
It's such a weird feeling.
This and my broken arm (my brother broke my arm when I was four), and maybe my wisdom teeth surgery? Are the only times I felt like my healthcare providers actually *wanted* to help me, are eager and even excited to help me, without me having to drag them into it kicking and screaming.
I am sort of looking forward to a very quiet xmas, hunkered down in recovery mode on the couch with tea and an electric blanket and my cat.
I am considering making Josh and Tyler go with me to a u-cut xmas tree farm, for our first xmas in this house. Maybe Cynthia and Derrick, too. I don't know how to strap a tree to my car? But I am willing to try. It doesn't have to be big. But I want one. Not every year. But this year. It's been so long. It will help me recover, to have a real tree, I think. I think of it like a giant cut flower. It's sad to cut them but that's what they grow them for, it's okay. I have used a fake tree for so many years and I will keep doing so. I just, this time, want to try, maybe. If I can get some friends to help. My MRI is scheduled for Dec 4, maybe for the weekend after that? I don't have to get a real tree. just a fun idea to think about. Josh loves my little fake one, it's light and easy to assemble and looks pretty nice actually.
I wonder if my xmas tree ornaments made it through the move in tact. I always try to pack them carefully but being loaded in an out of a big truck is more than they usually endure. We'll see.