ProfessorTomoe

Well, we *think* it was Baker who did the barfing this morning, based on the location. I hadn't seen Loudmouth come into the computer room, which is where the barfage was located. A little while later, I heard meowing noises from both of them, coming from the master bedroom. I went back and saw something very backward: Loudmouth was sitting in the center of the bed, while Baker was sitting on the night stand next to Loudmouth's favorite cushion stack. There was no indication of a kerfuffle. I turned around and left, only to hear loud sneezing as I reached the end of the hall—sneezing coming from Loudmouth. He felt a bit warm, so it's a good thing he's on antibiotic. It's also a good thing that Baker's on Elavil, since he tolerated me touching Loudmouth before I touched him. Oh, one complication: Mrs. Prof has to cut the Elavil in half and shove it down Baker's throat with a water chaser. That makes for a less than pleasant dosing experience.

* burrrrp* Oh, God, I forgot how bad Cymbalta (excuse me, generic duloxetine) tastes on a burp. Bleaugh. Still also getting Lyrica coughs. That doesn't help.

Just finished off a cup of what has become my favorite coffee blend as of late: a mixture of Fresh Roasted Coffee's Organic Bali Blue Moon (Single Serve) (8oz) and their Black Knight Dark Roast (Single Serve) (6oz). My reviews, posted here and here respectively, have both been no higher than 3 stars. However, you mix the two in the indicated proportions, apply creamer and sweetener, and by jovy, old lad! You've got a blend that is positively astounding! From my Black Knight review: I am to be enjoying this very much, thank you.

I know something that's going to make Mrs. Prof very happy later today. Her shipment from "LEGENDS-INDYCAR ECOMMERCE" is scheduled to arrive. Translated, that means her shipment from the Indianapolis Motor Speedway is going to arrive. Translated even further, her hand-signed Tony Kanaan Pennant and T-Shirt, both suitable for framing (mainly because she doesn't wear that shirt size), will arrive today. Meanwhile, my own shipment of vintage 2017 Dark Grade maple syrup from Two Pigs Farm—the place run by Christopher Kimball of Cook's Illustrated fame (former, I believe) is also scheduled to arrive today. I need some biscuits, some Bay's English muffins, and (heresy, I know) some waffles—buttered with Plugra—for this to be enjoyed properly.

Well, you let me. you big Danish butter cookie. You had the chance to shut me down before I even got started , so everyone who has anyone to thank has you to thank as well. You have @The Old Hack to thank for this as well, O sausage connoisseur. He let me get away with the harebrained scheme that has become this thread.

And, in the fullest sense of the phrase, I'm a clumsy oaf. I had naught but socks on my feet last night, and I managed to kick the hard rubber tip of my cane. Something felt like it went out of position. Damnit. Well, at least I'm going to the podiatrist tomorrow. The bad part is that I'm still going to have to have Mrs. Prof explain what's going to be done to me in early August by the pain management doctor that will directly affect the podiatrist's area of work. (I've been told that it takes several days for Lyrica to leave one's system, and it's just now getting out of mine. Mrs. Prof is still sort of advocating for me.) Thinking back on the pain management appointment from Wednesday (and cross-correlating with Mrs. Prof), I get the following picture of what he's going to to do me: I'm going to get another lumbar caudal epidural injection again. This one will be targeted to the zones that actually need the pain medicine. Catheters will be involved to guide the medicine to the crushed and amputated nerves. Multiple procedures may be required. The procedures may lead to back surgery, of the regular of the minimally invasive type (or both). I'm going to have another "stop list" of medications that I'll have to quit a certain number of days prior to the procedure. I need to get the stop list and the procedure date from Mrs. Prof so I can coordinate the two. It was hard enough last time, so I imagine it'll be even harder when dealing with a real hospital.

Gel cup with fruit in it. I don't even want to think about what the gel is made out of at the moment. Pity the monarchs of the Tudor era. You REALLY don't want to know what made their gelatin green.

It's not unusual for the cat whose territory is, from his perspective, being invaded, to have a problem with the situation, Something to help reduce his anxiety sounds good. There are several meds commonly used; let me know which one your vet is trying! It's called Amitriptyline (a.k.a. Elavil), and it's a bear to get into him. I had to exert my entire force against his 20 limbs. Once we got it inside him, he did stone out a bit. Loudmouth was already in bed in his room, though, so we couldn't tell if it did any good. We'll get until 2:30 p.m. CDT tomorrow to find out if it did him any good on the first dose (most likely not). Just be careful not to overshoot the mark! Google "Body Condition Score" and look at some of the charts to see how heavy is too heavy and how thin is too thin. :-) Trust me, with his barfing, he's not overshooting the mark. Mrs. Prof started him on some antibiotic last night so he wouldn't barf any more.

Thank you, thank you, good sir. Your moderatorly support has allowed me to hijack a forum thread to post the details of my screwed-up physical life, and everyone's support (yours definitely included) has given me the strength I've needed to go on when things looked most bleak. There will never be any way I can fully repay either, yet I hope that I can still count on everybody's support in the future when it's needed. In the fullest sense of the phrase, thank you, one and all.

Loudmouth is a bit on the sick side. He has occasional sneezes and has barfed a couple of times. Mrs. Prof captured a photo of him before the barfing began: However, we now seem to be having problems with Baker. He is freaking out over Loudmouth to a degree that we haven't seen before. Even the briefest trips outside the room can become problems. He runs up to Loudmouth, who turns and stands his ground with a full-on male-sounding hiss. (Only rarely has Baker ever hissed, and it sounds juvenile because he was neutered as a kitten.) Eventually, Loudmouth gets fed up with it and goes under a bed to get away from Baker's harassment. Baker is in full-blown jealous mode. Case in point: both cats in the master bedroom, Loudmouth on the master bedroom corner near the door, Baker on a cat tree near the window. If I walk past Loudmouth and go to Baker, he'll let me pet him profusely. However, if I give Loudmouth any attention at all before going to Baker, Baker will try to bite and/or scratch me. Mrs. Prof is going to pick up something for Baker from the vet (not sure what, but it's not Lorazepam) to try and calm him down. I am physically not capable of chasing after two cats while Mrs. Prof is on a work conference call. We need some help. Honestly, we thought Loudmouth would be the problem, but it's turned out that Baker is the neurotic one.

11:10 a.m. CDT 20170803. Now that I can see what I'm typing (and halfway think straight as well, although that's still coming along), I can say that Mrs. Prof advocated for me quite well yesterday after I basically shut down. She's got experience doing that—for her late mother when she was in a nursing home, for me after I broke my ankles. This was a mere pittance by comparison. I was given a choice between liquid hydrocodone or a higher dose of hydrocodone pills. Seeing as how the liquid hydrocodone would be a 5-day supply, and that we will have to drive all the way into the not-too-nice part of near-downtown Dallas to get refills, we're choosing the 30-day supply of pills. (At least we think it's a 30-day supply: that will be verified before we get it filled.) We will be picking up the Cymbalta today. (right-click scroll up Add to Dictionary) It's still a bit (hell, a lot) ironic that a thread that I started years ago to help me deal with getting off of Cymbalta is going to live so long as to see me go back on it, although for pain management purposes this time. In no way does this signal the end of the thread—hell no. It's become a resource for others and a chronicle for my own problems (and for others' ) problems. It needs to continue.

Ok, we start feeding coffee beans to chickens and produce Caffeinated Eggs. That won't work. All you'll get is very hard to catch chickens.

11:33 p.m. CDT 20170802. Never have I had such a strange doctor's appointment in the history of all of my doctor's appointments. First things first, he accepted me! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! And other such exclamations. Now, the story, which is going to take some time to tell. Things started off bad when my left hearing aid "died" on me on the way there (I learned after I got home that the earplug tube was just plugged up with wax—a replacement fixed it, but I had no hearing aids during my entire appointment, since one hearing aid is worse than none). That meant Mrs. Prof had to make sure she got all of the info from the appointment, and believe me, there was a ton of it. We get to the hospital and I'm walking for the first time in months without a walker. All I'm using is a cane. Of course, Mrs. Prof is yards ahead of me and complaining that it hurts for her to walk so slow. Whatever. I check in and find out there was one more paper that wasn't in the phone book of paper they originally sent. Fill it out, wait almost an hour. During this time, I can feel the Lyrica stupidity kicking in. I warn Mrs. Prof. They call me back and take my blood pressure. 148/80. I'm slightly freaked at this moment, but not terribly. Something must have my nerves calmed down somewhat, since I'm not wanting to get up and run out the door. Finally, the doctor arrives. About that time, my Lyrica really kicks in. He talks very soft, very fast, and very technical. Halfway through the appointment, I tell him about the Lyrica situation. He checks the dose I'm on and is stunned by it. Takes me off it immediately. I apologize to him and tell him that I'm going to have Mrs. Prof advocate for me through the rest of the appointment. He understands fully and talks things over while I sit back wondering where my brain went. In the first part of the appointment, when I was still lucid, he informed me that he's never seen someone with a back as messed up as mine. All of the amputated, squeezed, and other nerve problems? No wonder I'm hurting everywhere. They didn't even do diagnostics of my S1 nerve endings, which is where most of my severe pain has been coming through. I mean, he was on a freaking roll the whole time. Even in my brief moments of lucidity, I couldn't keep up with him. He even says the stone bruise pain in my foot, the ankle pain, and other pains are due to the nerve issues in my back. He rattled off issue after issue after issue after issue. I'm that bad off. Fortunately, there is something he can do for me. What it is I can't remember, because it was about that part that my mind started fuzz boxing up. Let's just say that this went way beyond a consultation appointment. He came in, ready to rock and roll. I'm scheduled for a back procedure already, after which I may have full-blown surgery. A couple of notes from my visit: He knows my primary care physician and thinks highly of him. He thinks Spine Team Texas is a bunch of [expletives deleted]. He can't believe I got referred to the pain guy at UT Southwestern, for many reasons which I will not spread here. All in all, this is the first doctor to take the report from the lumbar myelogram seriously. You want to know the weirdest part of this whole situation? It has to do with my pain medications. Of course, he doesn't want me taking the Lyrica anymore, which means an immediate stop. I spent most of this afternoon sleeping it off. I've been fighting double vision to type this report. He's put me on a higher dose of hydrocodone due to my gastric bypass. And, dating all the way back to the beginning of this thread ... ... he's put me back on Cymbalta. Says it's approved for neurological pain. Before we left, I told him about this forum thread and how the snake had now come around to eat its own tail. He got a laugh out of the situation. So will I. So will I, my friends. So will I.

Take care, @mlooney. A sinus headache is nothing to mess around with, even in comparison to the horrors of your migraines. Much obliged, @CritterKeeper! Looks like I'm going to need Mrs. Prof's help today. The Lyrica hit me like a wall of bricks. I'm as double-visioned as I've ever been right now. I had a good argument on the discord EGS server #tech channel—that helped some, especially when I had to pull out my Facebook article to prove that I'm someone who knows what the fark I know what I'm talking about. I got both argument *and* abuse prior to that. So, at least my mind is working, but I'm not sure it's connected to my mouth yet. I do know that I'm having the Lyrica coughs like crazy today. Why is it that practically every medication I take that has coughing as a side effect hits me with that very side effect? Give me a break, people! Gotta go take a shower in preparation for the appointment. Let's see If I can handle it.

8:32 a.m. CDT 20170802. I had to force myself up—I was literally slipping back into sleep as I sat up. My head was falling out of my hands. I finally pushed my head upright with one hand and pushed my body up with the other in order to get vertical. It was about time, too. I needed a Crystal Light lemon tea refill and a good bomb of coffee. BTW, if you want to see what coffee I'm drinking nowadays, check out this link. You'll note I didn't give the product being reviewed a good rating, but if you mix it with another coffee they sell, ka-BLAMMO! Excellent stuff. I wish I could have rated the blend. But I digest. Thanks to @The Old Hack for his kind wishes. I certainly do hope they help today. It's another one of those "I can use all the help I can get" days. Still scared, though. Haven't taken my medicines yet, partly due to late waking, partly due to hopes that the Lyrica's effects will hold off until at at least late in the appointment, if not after it. using the delay to have some Sam's Club "Pulled Pork Street Tacos." They taste about how they sound. Not bad for microwave fare, though. Needs sour cream. Can you tell I'm trying to take my mind off of the appointment? I mean, everything is together and in a folder, however I'm supposed to bring all of my medicine bottles. A list isn't good enough—they want to see the bottles (and probably count how many hydrocodone pills I have left—I'll be over by one since I missed a dose yesterday). Those'll have to go into a bag. Most of 'em are already in a shoebox (as in the freeform poem/whateveryouwanttocallit). (Sorry, had to take a break to deal with a couple of cats for a few moments.) The pulled pork "Street" tacos are gone, so let me take my medication. I'll write as the day goes on (and my neuroses continue to worsen).

You picked a hell of a time to return, with the spammers hitting the forum and the subsequent forum upgrade (to keep out the spammers)!

4:48 a.m. CDT 20170802. My nerves are farking freaking out. Mrs. Prof said she doesn't need a medical PoA if we're both present in the room. So, into the room we'll go, hopefully with me being able to speak for myself and without me losing my cool. I can't think. I'm too scared that I'll either get another UT Southwestern or a total rejection. I'm awake too damned early, that's what it is. I'm going back to sleep.

3:01 p.m. CDT 20170801. Dear Lord, I think this is one of those transition days. I can see slightly better, but I'm losing words and not making as much sense. I'm going to sound like a zombie tomorrow in front of the pain management doctor. She's supposed to help me fill out the forms for the appointment tomorrow. I hope she stays home long enough tonight to fill out a medical Power of Attorney. That way she'd be able to legally speak for me tomorrow. God, I hate this. You don't know how long it's taking me to type this message.

Mrs. Prof tells me that Loudmouth did several things while I was passed out from the Lyrica this morning. First, She took a nap and Loudmouth got up on the bed with her. Second, he found the cat water fountain that we have. He didn't figure out how to drink from the waterfall part like Baker does, but he did drink from the "pool" around it. Finally, our problem with figuring out what he likes to scratch was solved when he jumped up in my music computer chair and started scratching the back I lean against. No no no no no. That last one's got to stop, and it's got to stop NOW. I'm setting up the Ssscat cans so that he can't get near it, if we ever decide to let him out of the cat room at night. Vaguely related to that subject, Loudmouth's most definitely using the litter box in the master bedroom. There hasn't been a bed pee incident in a day. In fact, I think he yowled this morning for us to come and see what he'd done. Either that, or the vet missed something and it's hurting him to pee. I hope it's not the latter.

She's definitely going to have to help. Not only do I have double vision, it's blurry to boot. AAUUGGHH

The Greasemonkey script still works, more or less.

This double vision is making things harder than I thought. I've got a ton of paperwork to fill out for the pain management doctor on Wednesday. How the hell am I going to do it? I can't see well enough to write. I might have to get Mrs. Prof to help me with it over today and tomorrow. Otherwise, I could be screwed.