Tag Archives: Stealthie

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Matter

If something doesn’t matter, is it anti-matter?

Lily’s person moved two days ago, much closer. Supposedly to a place where Lily the cat can go, but instead of a private room, there is a roommate. It took me a month to get Lily cat to let me pat her, so the roommate won’t work. We are all very very frustrated. And next week daily treatments for Lily’s person start, thirty minutes away, without enough warning to get volunteer drivers. So it will be me. I am tired. But I suppose it’s anti-matter, right? We were given 24 hours notice by the nursing home and by the physicians about both the move and the treatment and they wanted to start the treatment the same day that she was moving. Whether we can provide all the transport seems to be irrelevant.

The stealthie is from Whidby Island. Right, I’m just an irrelevant shadow as far as the medical dysfunctional machine is concerned.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: irrelevant.

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One part

I don’t think it is easy to do two parts with straight hair. Now, if I had one of those rather awful perms I had in the 1970s, I could do two parts and tiny braids. At least, I could do the front. I would need help with the back.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Part Two.

I took this photograph when I was picking up mail for a neighbor. I said he’d better come home soon or I would be buried. And gosh, we can’t see any parts.

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Lipssss

Vermilion makes me think of lips. Why lips? Oh, the vermilion border, as it’s called.

Ok, trigger warning, medical stuff: if some gets a cut on their face involving the lips, we have to match the edges of the vermilion border very carefully. Because if it’s not matched, it’s very obvious.

This is me singing at the mirror, with vermilion lip liner and black lipstick. It still looks vermilion, doesn’t it?

Of course I have black lipstick. Don’t you?

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: vermilion.

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The DSM Stew

Pyschosis
Neurosis
Babeiosis
Psittacosis

Medicine shifts
out the old, in the new
neurosis is gone
from the DSM stew

https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/understanding-psychosis

https://www.cdc.gov/parasites/babesiosis/

https://www.cdc.gov/pneumonia/atypical/psittacosis/index.html

The DSM V is the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, volume V. The DSM III was published in 1980, DSM-IV in 1994 and the DSM-V in 2013. Some disorders are dropped or combined with others or the criteria are changed. In the DSM-V, tolerance and overuse (formerly addiction) were combined from two disorders into one spectrum.

Medicine is always changing and updating. Before h. pylori was recognized as a cause of stomach ulcers, there was much more ulcer surgery and ulcer bleeding deaths.

I don’t know what will come out of Covid-19, but the research on the immune system and Long Covid (now called PASC) is formidable.

The DSM-V and the ICD-10 are humans categorizing things, defining diseases. They will continue to change.

For a history of the DSM, read here: https://www.psychiatry.org/psychiatrists/practice/dsm/about-dsm/history-of-the-dsm.

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For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: neuroses.

The photograph is taken in September 2021, with my camera. Hypoxia and a fast heart rate makes me really anxious, but neither is considered a psychiatric disorder.

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my current trolls

I am getting some Facebook trolls. My favorites right now are two who requested that I friend them, ostensibly guys, but both said how beautiful I am and charming and etc. The picture that they put the request on is the poster for the last concert. The picture is of a sea lion.

Heh. Guess they think she is beautiful. I replied, “Uh, guys, that’s a sea lion.” They do not acknowledge this.

I am also getting peculiar friend requests. Often there is one friend in common. I contact a friend in Virginia to ask about one. She doesn’t remember the name, so I don’t reply. I also take a look at their home page before replying. If there is nearly nothing there, I think it’s a fake account. Pretty weird.

I am not answering WordPress’s daily questions, either. I think that is feeding ChatGPT or Big Data or someone. Nope.

Ok, let’s feed something random to the algorithm: Al Gore rhythm! I hope that confuses things. How is Al Gore’s rhythm anyhow? Can he dance? Can he shake it? Does he twerk? Work the twerk, Al! As usual, I would like to thank my personal AI, whose initials are MM. She knows who I mean. Sending you love, MM.

Now I will get Al Gore and twerking in my Facebook ads. Are there YouTube videos on How To Twerk? Inquiring minds shy away with horror, though it’s probably decent exercise.

Have a lovely day, trolls! MM, would you go mess their feeds for me? Give them Al twerking!

The photographs are from a museum in Europe in March 2022. Which is a troll? Maybe neither.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: troll.

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Long Covid and framing

Long Covid is being framed as the immune system going nuts and there are all sorts of ideas about what it is doing and why. And it may be that more than one of them is correct. But the assumptions that I am hearing are that we have to “fix” it. A disease model.

Since I have been through four rounds of pneumonia, and two other rounds that were probably also flares, I have a different feeling. I think that Covid-19 is a really nasty virus and that the immune system is CORRECT to be on high alert and upset.

But wait, you say, we are just supposed to put up with it?

No, that is not what I am saying. Treat infection. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for penicillin and clindamycin, not to mention that we know that tuberculosis is airborne and infectious. I would most probably have died as an infant if we did not know what we did about tuberculosis. However, rather than thinking of my immune system as broken now, I am thinking of it as being hyperalert. Perhaps having PTSD. What it is really saying is, “Do not get another infection.”

How does it say this? In my case, relatively mild chronic fatigue. Also, slower healing each round, this time taking two full years to get back to a chronic fatigue baseline. I am still feeling very lucky to not have a hypoxia and permanent oxygen baseline. I am also feeling lucky that my fast twitch muscles work again. But I have about half of what I would consider my “normal” energy. But don’t we all judge that “normal” from our peak energies in our teens and twenties? One friend says, “Welcome to your sixties!” when I complain that each time it takes more work and is slower rebuilding muscle.

Am I an outlier? I don’t think so. I think I am the canary in the coal mine, warning of what can come. I think that ANYONE can get a version of this, resulting from too much stress, infection or a combination of the two.

I don’t think we have to develop medicines to tweak the immune system. I think we have to change our CULTURE in the United States. We have to learn to value the parasympathetic state, not just the sympathetic fight or flight, aggressive, go go go, peak performance state. I think we are driving ourselves nuts and setting ourselves and our children up for illness and damage and a highly unhappy immune system.

So my approach to my version of PANS or Long Covid is to work on the parasympathetic state. Listen to my body. Rest. Think about what I want to do and then plan half of it. Be realistic about my energy level. Because if I can convince my immune system that I will take care of myself as best I can, and rest daily, and not be crazy, it will stand down. It will calm down. It doesn’t need drugs as much as rest, good food, good friends, and some work but not too much.

In a high sympathetic nervous system state, the immune system works less well. It is hyperalert too. People are more likely to develop auto-immune diseases, with Hashimoto’s thyroiditis being the most common. People are more likely to get infections too. We have to learn to value and support the parasympathetic nervous system.

The start is rest. If that sounds awful, the next step is breathing. Five seconds in, five seconds out, count and use a timer. Start with a couple minutes and work up to twenty. Pay attention to how your body feels at twenty minutes. It may feel unfamiliar. It’s also hard to keep paying attention to that five seconds in, five seconds out, even if you count. I start thinking about my grocery list or food or a friend I want to call and I have been doing this for YEARS. When you realize that you are not counting, return again.

I am a minimalist on pills, any pills. Supplements, vitamins, prescription. None of the pills grow on trees so I don’t distinguish between “natural” and um, what, “unnatural”? I think of it as “less tested” and “more tested”. As an allopathic physician, I prescribe when necessary and I get rid of pills whenever I can. It is better to take a daily walk and eat healthy food. And maybe take a nap too.

So this is where I start. I attended a whole program on LDN this week, low dose naltrexone. It is being used for fibromyalgia pain and for Long Covid and ME/CFS fatigue and brain fog. It has a very reassuring safety profile, pharmaceutical companies don’t want to fund research because it is old and relatively cheap, and we don’t know how long to put people on it, or what it does long term. More detail soon.

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One thing I am doing for health and joy is dancing. I try to dance at the Bishop Hotel every Tuesday, because it makes me so happy. The music makes me happy too and my friends.

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Daily Evil: O is for Ornery

OOOOOO, ornery. What a lovely word! It can be purely negative or it can be positive and joking, or it can just mean stubborn.

This is one of Helen Burling Ottaway’s self portraits. My photograph, through glass. This is 20 by 26 inches, pastel chalk, dated 1979.

I had this up in the guest room, but a guest said he felt nervous with her watching. I laughed and said, “Ok, yeah, I can see that.” I moved it. My mother always looked fierce when she was concentrating. She captures that expression very well. People often thought she was angry when she was teaching, but it’s just concentration. I could tell the difference but the students could not.

And speaking of ornery:

Sol Duc helping with the photograph. Sort of.

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not really, right?

I ask a male friend of mine, older and perhaps wiser. “Um, the guys I have dated or even just hung out with are only interested in their interests. They are not interested in me or what I am doing. For example, I mention that I have a blog twice to two different males recently and they completely ignore it. I mention that I just did a poetry reading and one whips out his phone and shows me a family member’s poem. What is it with that?”

“Well,” he says, “Men are only interested in what a woman is doing, if they are in love with her.”

“Really?” I say. “Holy crap.”

“Absolutely.”

I am still chewing on this. I have dated various “gentlemen” for a couple of years each since I got divorced. One of them is still a friend. Last month he said, “I think you like writing better than I do.” Um. He has known me since 2008. Powers of observation, like a hawk in flight, heh.

I can think of seven guys since 2007, when my divorce was final, who really showed very little interest in what I was doing. Ok, one of them did read my blog and another admitted to reading at least one post, but refused to EVER comment. What the hell? Meanwhile they want to talk about their collections, their jobs, their lives, their interests.

And so I reexamine my ex-husband. He actually DID listen and WAS interested. Mostly he laughed at me, but medical school and residency were off the scale dysfunctional and ridiculous. And in turn I listened to his golf shots and watched Payne Stewart dress in NFL colors and plus fours.

But I don’t get it. Maybe the younger generations are a lot smarter and I think they are darn smart to say who cares about the XX or XY or XO or XYY chromosomes! There are lots of other chromosomes! Let’s get over race and gender! That stuff is shallow unless you are interested in someone in the pants zone.

And then men complain to me that they do not understand women. Really? I ask if they have ever read a romance novel. One said, “Those are for women. I wouldn’t do that.” So one romance would take away your man credentials? I say, well, you might understand what our culture indoctrinates women with if you did read a romance. Not to mention notice that Disney animation glorifies virginal princesses, but gosh, queens are either dead or evil. Doesn’t seem like a good career choice, breeder for the ruler. Especially if you’ll die in childbirth or turn evil.

I hope my male friend is wrong, but I am paying attention. And noticing if a man is not.