Essential Oils

I got some essential oils a couple of days ago. Okay, 25 of them. And a box, fractionated coconut oil, a diffuser, and some pills. Point is, they're really pretty fun. Apparently they cure about everything. Haven't gotten rid of the IPH yet, but I'm trying. So far they've helped with energy, mood, bug bites, disinfecting, circulation, pimples, sleep, and cramps. Endless fun!

I'll never let the chiropractor cut my hair again!

So, my sister and I went to the chiropractor last week (the witch doctor, not the muscle one) and had some extensive tests done. Well, I had extensive tests done, we went back after we realized she got gypped. He cut some hair off to do toxicity testing on, and ended up chopping off about 7 different clumps, down by the root. Now, every time I feel my hair, there are all these nasty pokey pieces that annoy me. Now we're waiting, for both the results, and the stool sample collection kit that's supposed to arrive in the mail. I know, such a cool thing to wait for ;)

I'm also waiting for my hair to grow back. . .

Still waiting. . .

Sadness

So, ten years ago, I was in Italy with one of my sisters, and we bought sandals. I bought these sandals:
They are wonderfully comfortable, and have garnished compliments for the 10 years I've owned them. And they've been my main late spring-summer-early fall sandals for those 10 years. I love these sandals.



But, I threw them away today. And I cried.

I need another trip to Italy.

That sounds yummy. . .

So, at the chiropractor yesterday, he told me that I have parasites, and read off a list of truly horrid sounding possiblilities, mostly ending in worm. I said, "That sounds yummy." Which he laughed at. He's supposed to check next week and see whether anything diet-wise needs done to get rid of them. I always pictured my headaches as more of a gerbil wearing cleats as opposed to tiny wiggly things, but whatever works - just get it all out of my head!

More Random Thoughts

"If you want to be strong, be you. Be the real you that no circumstance, no twist of fate can diminish."

Over the weekend I finally got the basketball hoop I got for Christmas up. And by "I", I really mean, Peter and Andrea did. Mostly Peter, since he had to fix all of our mistakes, too. That's been a lot of fun.

I'm into the second week of the Israeli exercise program. I actually got up before 7:30 on a holiday to exercise and shower before the breakfast. I was impressed.

The last visit to my chiropractor, he cleared me of the emotional trauma that triggered the headache. Sounds useful, can't really tell a difference.

Finally got back to my book. It needs a lot of work, and I have less than a month.

Who would I be if I wasn't broken?

That was the title of some blog post I read recently (notice the complete plagiarism). I've thought about this a few times, over the last couple of years. I spent the years before that not acknowledging that I even was broken. The thing about chronic pain is that it fundamentally changes you. When pain just doesn't give you a break, then eventually it breaks you. It's like when you're really sick or really tired, or both, and you get grouchy and snappy and irritable and fault-finding and you can't seem to help yourself. The difference is, eventually you tend to be well and rested again, at some point. Unless you're a parent, and then it might take 18 years or so. But imagine that out of control person you don't want to be, all the time, and then couple it with the hopelessness of understanding that there might not ever be an end.

I can't remember anymore if I used to be a nice person, or a good person. I can't remember what I ever did for fun, or enjoyed doing. I can't remember if I used to be able to actually handle life, without falling apart at anything remotely stressful. I do remember that I used to very rarely cry. Usually the only thing that would make me is extreme frustration. Maybe that's why I cry so often now.

Sometimes I feel like a really rotten person for hating life so much right now. I do have a lot of blessings in my life, and all around me I see people who have it harder. I sat next to a woman in a wheelchair at church today. I should be a lot more grateful that I'm mobile, that all of my senses work, and that I'm surrounded by good, loving people. Then again, I should be a lot of things that I'm just not.

Whine over.

Insanity

If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results, I've got your crazy person right here. This Wednesday I'm going to get the balloon thing done again. I'm actually hoping for the same results, just longer lasting. Not the pain, although I'm expecting that, but last time it actually did clear me up for a few days and noticeably improved the headaches. So, I'm going to try it again, and hope that it's a little more permanent. After all, I've only got three more neck muscles to go, so if I don't get a miracle cure soon, I've pretty much just wasted a bunch of time and money, and you know that's unprecedented. He was willing to do it on my last visit, but I chickened out because I thought it might be better if I was more prepared for it. Ha! Now I've spent the last few days dreading it. One of these days I'm going to remember that I don't get braver as time goes on. He did tell me an inspiring story about a 10-year-old boy who had it done, didn't cry, and came through with flying colors. I've never said that I was braver than a 10-year-old, and on Wednesday, I'm pretty sure I'll prove it!