Worrying as usual

It's an odd sort of feeling, a bit like defeat, a bit like relief. Not sure what the heck, and it's still terrifying but the car at least is imported now and paid up for the year and in theory, the bus will be paid for the year if Dan doesn't let me down.  I reminded him, since he's not got it done still, that I literally starved for weeks over this money and he better damn well get on the job. The last bit was left implied.

My anxiety continues pretty strong but sunny days and having the car fixed are helping. Also I used some of the savings for a bit more food and am eating a bit. 

But then there's my shoulder.  It's getting in the way of knitting and spinning, this typing and using the phone, and I don't know the cause.  It's horrible.  Right shoulder just goes into overdrive.  the part under the shoulder blades and the triangle across the top both cramp painfully. Stretching doesn't help and the skin is getting bruised from using a cane handle to press into the nearly solid muscle cramps trying to massage it.

I really do not feel able to approach the Nurse Practitioner.  He was really too rude with me the last few times and the whole time treating me like a cheater to be found out makes discussing my health pretty much impossible.

I have no idea what to do except return to home remedies when I can and suffering when I can't.

I'm trying to practice flute but now that too is painful. How the hell do I do this? How in hell does one earn an income with all these things going on?

On the lighter side, my solar is working well and that, like the new plates on my car, helps cheer me up. I made that weird gelatin and honey whipped dessert because I can run the fridge a bit, and had some with a bit of evaporated milk and rough ground cane sugar crunchies.  Wowee, that was insane, better than an ice cream sundae and didn't make me feel sleepy and heavy and stupid after. 

While my complicated relationship to sugar remains, I do feel significantly less ill with the organic cane sugar vs white. But it's $3/lb and you grind it yourself in a mortar and pestle.  Great for coffee, tea, whipped cream.  Oh the whipped cream, that also cheered me up far more than anything should. I get one of those little quarter pint deals and it makes enough to cheer me up for 24-36hrs and costs about $3 too.  

Even so, it's bloody hard to keep even that much food in house. 

I keep getting annoyed, fed up or pissed off at the other rv dwellers.  I really do not fit in around here. They are filthy, antisocial, amoral, reactive, pushy, argumentative, loud, and self centered.  Not to a man, but on a whole. 

I see there things of which I've been accused.  I hoped I had moderated it but I still wait to hear from the theatre.  Now I did in fact say I couldn't keep up the painting crew, but the wardrobe really did promise to contact me so I'm still hoping on that. Wardrobe stands a better chance of being more isolated creativity instead of constantly sharing space with an assortment of others like I've had to do.

I still see no other career path I could count on being able to meet in temperment and skills.

Even so, I still can't move forward with this heavy load of debt and homelessness. The attitude towards me all over is toxic.  It's fine till they find out, then they switch and it's fake concern and cold regard.

I still haven't a clue what's going on with the PWD application.  If it even got ministry filed or circular filed.  No messages about a pending application through the channels.  

The way he spoke to me, I can't even be sure that he did the thing, or will do the thing at all. I have no idea how to proceed or what to do next. Do I call the advocate or wait? Do I ask for a new doctor or accept that they're all like this?

Accepting, yet again, that I have no choice but to keep grinding one terrifying day at a time, this has me trying to think of solutions again. 

I really can't think of any I haven't tried. And the general fucking up of y body is nuts.  This morning it was my left hand from the knuckles to the wrist just aching like fire when I tried to use the hand to pick up things and stuff.  Meanwhile the right hand is getting weak enough often enough it's pretty much assumed it can't open lids or strike lighters or press buttons on umbrellas at all anymore.  I must switch to the left. Also pulling wool. Anything requiring pinching or pushing with the thumb is fail.

But now that I"m a liar, no way to ask about it. Plus the medical approach of throwing drugs at it to see which ones change it, and which don't, seems awfully unhealthy to me. 

I was musing the other night on that. Let's say it takes, oh, 3 mos per drug and there's six of them to run through to rule out things. So that's 18mos of drug trials with a guy who has a memory like swiss cheese and disassociates his symptoms as soon as they recede. Unlikely to be certain it worked. And we may be working on the wrong symptom anyway. 

Meanwhile, suppose the systemic problem is a serious umbrella syndrome progressing. In 18mos, they still haven't got around to testing for any of those, but by then, either way, my symptoms are liikely to be demonstrable in front of them, instead of only when I'm tired. Because at this point, not only can't I properly report on symptoms, but they don't believe my reports anyway.

Here is another cute one, seeing movement out of the corner of my eye which is not there. very tiny, as if a large spider ran very quickly across a spot in view out the corner of my eye.  But there wasn't one.  Spider is just my brain guessing by probability.

Like huh?

But optic nerve bug crawling?  Also a persistent "under the skin bug" on my calf for days now. Scratching is pointless but pressure helps. It's not constant, but frequent and distracting.

And the severe muscle cramps, different body areas, while sitting and doing activities I've done for years without pain.

But if I can't write things down, I can't tell anyone.

See, I need an autism informed medical representative. Not some pretty man in beautiful clothes.  i didn't think it mattered but I'm worse than I have been since childhood.  I don't know what I've lost that I can't perform even as well as twenty years ago, but I just really can't cope with people anymore. They won't tolerate me, they expect me to conform to abled standards and treat me poorly when I don't.