ProfessorTomoe

Wow. Must be a "learn something new every day" drug. I'm going to probably be reaching toward your level of Abilify dosage, although not coming close to it, after my Thursday appointment with my PCP. Mr. Depression has decided to pay me a visit again after all of the hell of the past week, and he's hanging around this time. My PCP is the one controlling my Abilify dose, not my psychiatrist (they've worked it out between them).

This. Or, what I put something in the forms that throws up a red flag and disqualifies me?

Here's a story that discusses what the budget would do to government retirees. The relevant part is quoted below (emphasis mine): According to an e-mail Mrs. Prof sent me: Now you can see why this new budget has us doubly worried. They're going from high-3 to high-5, dropping length of service, and cutting cost-of-living adjustments for people in her retirement plan (the CSRS). The change from high-3 to high-5 would result in a lower overall average upon which they'd base the calculation of her monthly benefits. Our futures are not so bright around the ProfessorTomoe household. We are not wearing shades.

Thank you for the ruling, because I have just learned from Mrs. Prof that her retirement account is in jeopardy as well in the same budget. Neither of us voted for candidates who support these policies, and the candidates who support Trump won the elections in our area. Therefore, neither of us have a sympathetic ear on Capitol Hill. We are both very much concerned now.

I have been reading multiple recent stories about Trump's proposed FY18 budget, such as this one. A section of each story that disturbs me involves proposed deep cuts and/or restrictions on Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI). Quoting from the linked article (emphasis added by me): Also: This is highly troubling. I am no longer able to maintain a steady job of any kind due to my maladies, injuries, and various disabilities, but who's to say that some bureaucrat won't come in and arbitrarily decide that the bar for SSDI access should be raised, based on Lord knows what kind of study they want to quote? If I lose my SSDI, my family will be in bad shape. I am not represented by any lawmaker of my own party, and it's not for a lack of my voting for one. I fear that this may be implemented with no one to advocate for me. Granted, it's a Presidential budget proposal and likely will not look anything like what gets passed in the end. However, the seeds of the idea have now been planted. How do I keep someone from wanting to water them? I hope this doesn't violate thread rules, which I did go back and read before I posted.

Going off topic in an off topic thread, Mrs. Prof wanted me to post this as a thank you to whomever sent the cat toys from her Amazon Wish List. Our cat, Baker, loves them. Much obliged!

A couple of infrared photos from our colony tonight. First is an example of Cat Yoga: The second is dinner time. One of them is a bit finicky at the time of the picture: Mrs. Prof is still in the "getting accustomed to it" phase with the camera. Tonight it's in our greenhouse, which she's converted to an enclosed cat apartment complex. She'll eventually begin taking it out on trapping assignments. I'm guessing she's going to have to figure out some sort of financial deposit setup so that no one runs off with it. It's too valuable (thanks, tOH!).

10:53 a.m. CDT 20170522. Mrs. Prof apparently had some time to mull things over, because she came out of the chute this morning willing to work with me on getting appointments scheduled. I've pushed back my cardiologist to July (since I just saw a heart doctor within the last couple of weeks), scheduled an appointment with my PCP in its place on Thursday for blood tests and (hopefully) to get a medical excuse to get out of jury duty. I've also scheduled my referral to the ENT for my coughing/laryngitis for a couple of weeks down the road. These items don't include my foot surgery follow-up appointment this Friday and my lumbar epidural (useless) injection follow-up appointment on June 1st. Mrs. Prof also got onto the phone and took both Spine Team Texas and the lab to task over the "Non-Participating Provider" letter foreshadowing a $1,000.00+ medical bill. Everyone is swearing up and down that they're "in network" and that there shouldn't be a problem. My anxiety level is still high over this, and her level of belief in the providers is still low. Been waking up twice as of late: once at about 3:00 a.m., soon after which I take my hydrocodone, and again at around 9:00 a.m., which is the least comfortable of the two (and is also followed by hydrocodone plus my "drug cocktail"). Lots of groaning and moaning from pain with the second wake-up due to right side spine/hip/leg/foot pain. I'm keeping my left foot elevated until the follow-up with the podiatrist Friday. It's not making things easy on me between the hours of 4am and 9am.

Thanks for the offer, but I don't know how much good it would do. We're not in an area where public transportation is easily reached, and services such as taxis, Uber, and Lyft most likely wouldn't come out to our suburb. Garland and Rowlett, Texas are part of a pretty large area of sprawl (read: low profit/high rates before they'll even consider coming out here). We're just going to have to grab Mjolnir and hammer something out between the two of us.

3:40 a.m. CDT 20170522. Up early, taking my first hydrocodone dose of the day a bit early. Woke up with spinal nerve pain shooting into my hip. Figured I'd better head it off at the pass before it got too bad. I'm very quickly coming to the realization that Tuesday, one of the most traumatic and painful days of my entire life, was all for nothing. I am considering switching spine doctors, unless this one can pull a miracle out of his arse at my follow-up appointment (and his accounts department can explain their way out of why the fark we're staring at a $1,000.00+ potential bill for drug testing, possibly to be followed by an identical twin). Mrs. Prof has a possible lead via a friend's husband who suffered similar symptoms. Just realized that the "ant bite" I've been scratching at for the last ten minutes is actually one of the failed IV insertion attempt holes from Friday. My veins hate IV needles. I think they can see them coming. They roll out of the way and hide the minute the needle touches the skin. No massive blotches from started failed attempts this time, just a couple of large gauge holes that are bruising and itching. Only took them two tries on Friday. Only took the nurse one try on Tuesday, but that was the kind I really hate—you hear, "Big stick!", and then before you know it you've got a painful needle in your hand. No lidocaine/Xylocaine to numb the pain before and alleviate the pain afterward. And believe me, I can feel those damned IVs inside my veins. I used to get laughed at for saying that, but now they've proved that the inside of blood vessels contain nerves. I think it's been put forward as one possible cause for fibromyalgia (which I do not have, thank the Maker). Oh, one thing I didn't mention that really put the boot into my emotional state the other day: I got a summons for Jury Duty. Mrs. Prof laughed, then stopped quickly when she realized what she was doing. I'm on "stand-by" status June 13: basically, I've got to call in during a 90-minute period on that day to learn whether or not I'm supposed to show up in downtown Dallas thirty minutes after the end of the period. I'll still be wearing my moon boot, and the jury instructions say absolutely no shorts. Tell me how you're going to get a pair of long pants to cooperate with a steel, foam, and Velcro post-op boot. Can't be done, not with my wardrobe. No, at some point I'm going to have to go to my primary care physician and request a "medical excuse," which I'll have to return via mail. Easier said than done. Mrs. Prof is very quickly getting tired of missing work to drive me to medical appointments. She wants me to try and schedule any appointment with my PCP for the same day as my podiatrist follow-up. I can't handle all of the intricate telephone ballet work she wants me to do to interleave the appointments on the same day, either mentally or physically. Add to that the little item that the only way I can make sure I get the time right is to get her on the phone with me—otherwise, she huffs, throws her shoulders around, and in an exasperated tone, tells me to "just get an appointment," knowing full well that she'll raise hell at me if I get the time wrong. Add to this the fact that I've got to add yet another doctor to my list. Fortunately, he's not a new doctor—he's the ENT who operated on my sinuses back in 2015. He's supposed to figure out what's causing my chronic laryngitis and help me track down a cure for my coughing. However, that's just one more doctor's appointment I'll have to attend, and I'll need transportation, thanks to the spinal nerve pain, and thanks to Mr. Controlled Substance 4x a Day. I might have been able to handle this back in 2009, but not after everything that's happened in between then and 2017. AAUUGGHH. I've gone from the anxiety and depression from the other day to the anxiety and frustration of today. My nerves are wearing thin (pun intended) at a proportional rate to Mrs. Prof's. She's even getting tired of getting drinks for me. I'm capable of getting them, but at less than ¼ of the speed and about 20 times the pain, not to mention the fall risk. Things are getting dysfunctional. I believe we're going to require a sit-down talk, and even that's going to take up precious time that she'll likely claim she doesn't have. Forget what I said earlier—the depression is still there.

She says thank you! She also has finally come to terms with my "webcomic friends," I believe. I think she treated me like I had imaginary friends when I would talk about forum goings-on prior to all of this, despite my protestations to the contrary.

Help me, Obi-Wand Kenobi, you're my only hope. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I couldn't help it.

Just finished watching "Twin Peaks: The Return" on Showtime. WOW. Classic David Lynch. Lots of NSFW (and NSF Network TV) stuff this time around. It helped that we watched the last episode of Season 2 before we watched the new stuff. Mrs. Prof was confused as hell at points, but she was just as into it as I was. "In for a penny, in for a pound," that sort of thing.

Mrs. Prof came home and caught me watching (read: sleeping through) the "Fast 9" pole position shoot-out for next week's Indy 500. She immediately made me switch away from it so I wouldn't spoil it for her. We're watching it together now.

Sense spoken here. I came home with a bit more energy than I've had today, believe it or not. Could be emotional stress as well—hell of a lot of things ganging up on me lately, mentally and physically. I judge how tired I am by how long I can stay awake during an IndyCar event. I was streaming qualification of cars positioned 10 through 33 on ESPN3 until it came on ABC. I fell asleep after about the first dozen cars and woke up once it switched back to the network. I judge that as moderately exhausted.

More CDs arrived from Amazon! More rare tracks. Thank you!!!

SECONDED

Hey, I resemble that remark!

8:31 a.m. CDT 20170521. I am seriously slowing down after my last surgery. Walking with the pins in my foot has decreased my velocity and agility. I don't completely understand why—you'd think that the potential for healing would make my gait a bit more chipper. Quite the opposite. My stamina has decreased as well. I don't know if it's the pins, the amount of time that I have to keep my foot elevated, or something else. Very frustrating. My mental stamina is coming and going in waves. Right now, it's ebbing away. So is this update. I'll check back in later.

I'm going to start this off with a bit larger sized photo of the two cats from a couple of days ago. They looked like they were going to get after each other, but nothing came of it. I also did a little bit of gamma correction on the new photo. The tabby's name is Big Tom, while the grey's name is Loudmouth. Believe me, it is well deserved. He's the one who'll sit outside the front door the moment he detects any motion inside and yowl for hours until someone comes out and plays with him, brushes him, and feeds him his own little special treat of wet food. With my back and my foot, that job falls upon Mrs. Prof, unfortunately. She seems to like it, in a way. Really, he could be homed, but with him so acclimated to being a community cat, he doesn't make a mad dash to get inside when the door is left open. Besides, he's at least 4 years old, and he'd have to be in a single-cat environment.

I've set up a thread for posting future trail camera photos. There are a bunch of rules for it, but participation within those rules is welcome. Come on over! I could use the psychological lift.