Arthur and Kevin's Nellorat (nellorat) wrote,
Arthur and Kevin's Nellorat

Year Still Not So Great

With the delightful and exhilarating exception of writing and then the ICFA in in early-to-mid March, this year continues to harsh whatever buzz I manage to accumulate.

I'm not fully depressed, and I don't think an increase of meds would help--and I'm at a high dose for Effexor anyway--but I don't seem to have the resiliency I'd like, and I'm closer to depression than I've been in years and years.

Major sources of sadness include the health problems of our aging rat-kids. Big Gus, the PEW alpha, just died suddenly one day. Most of all, Beatrice is suffering from a brain tumor or pituitary tumor pressing on the brain, a series of strokes, or both. For a while, because of her confusion and partial paralysis, we had to hand-feed her, which was very upsetting. I try to think of it from the rats' point of view, because they are such models of cheer and acceptance in even the most dire situations, but something about Bea's condition has made that peculiarly hard.

Medical matters continue to be annoying. After nerving myself up for the mammogram, right before they would have let me in to actually do it, the staff told me that their radiology lab is not covered by my health insurance--particularly ironic because I chose that gyno in part because his department was associated with a radiation clinic. Finally womzilla--who feels guilty because it's his crazy-ass health insurance--got a referral for a place that is covered, so now I re-start the whole process.

At least I found out for the mammogram: if the pelvic ultrasound had been first, I would have found out after waiting with a full bladder!

With so much time spent sad and upset, I couldn't just eat whatever I wanted and ignore my blood sugar, so I've been wrestling with that, too. Always, always. And last week I not only didn't exercise on my own on Tuesday, I canceled my yoga lesson on Thursday. The week before and this week have been better, however.

Even the weather has been conspiring, with the only good days for gardening being when I worked & my days off, including today, wet and cold.

Despite being so bummed out, I've managed to teach well, so that's something. Delia came in and cleaned one evening when I was really bummed out, and I hugged her & thanked her for giving me a better home to love in than I could have managed on my own. And I've enjoyed that long-time anodyne, reading, gobbling up one after the other the novels by Madeleine L'engle about her Murry family.

So, meh.
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