Hey there, internet. It’s been awhile.
About eight months ago, I started hanging out with Travis. Travis is awesome. In mid-July I went over to his place after a party and sort of never left. It is a good thing and we’re happy and I’m sure I’ll tell you all more about him soon.
I am not dead, in case you were wondering.
I had this idea in my head of writing some big thought-piece about feelings and blame and letting things go, but I am hung over and in pain (I threw out my back!) so I think I’ll just not do that right now.
So K is getting married. I know this because I am an idiot and I checked his Google+ page the other night. And he’s getting married. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo. I’m happy for him. But I don’t know whom to be more jealous of– her, because she has HIM, the love of my life, my cute geeky boy, blah blah blah– or HIM because he found someone he wants to spend the rest of his fucking life with and I’m alone, all alone, forever alone.
He was like my poly role model, people. And then pretty much as soon as we broke it off, he hooked up with this [redacted], and now they’re getting MARRIED.
Yeah, yeah, move on. I know. I have.
But he’s seared into my soul. Never loved anyone like that, not before, not since. Blah blah blah.
I met someone. He’s older than me. He’s kind. I don’t want to jinx it. It’s new. It’s open.
My poly role model is getting married, and here I am four years later, still doin’ the free-love thing. Odd how things work out.
And it’s odd how meeting someone new can throw all these things from my past into such sharp relief. I forgot what it feels like to let my guard down. I forgot what it feels like to be adored back. But now I remember.
One night with K, after some private adult aerobics, he rested his head on my chest for a few moments. That may have been the closest he ever came to tenderness. I can’t believe I was so in love with someone who wouldn’t/couldn’t/didn’t even hold me. Or that I spent 15 months of the last two years with a guy– well, I’m done saying mean shit about Emery for now. BUT I AM THINKING IT.
I deserve better. I’m gonna go out and get it.
I was in a car accident on November 2nd, 2011. It was the other driver’s fault. His insurance company doesn’t see it that way, and is refusing to pay out for my medical bills or the loss of my car. The lawyers I’ve spoken to agree with me, but my case isn’t strong enough for them to take on.
I am in pain. Every day, I am in pain. I have a headache every day My shoulder feels like I’m being stabbed. My back hurts. Every day.
To get on disability, I need to verify that I am injured.
To hire a lawyer, I need to verify that I am injured.
To verify that I am injured, I need to see a specialist.
To see a specialist, I need to get into a low-income healthcare program.
I have been waiting to get into the low-income healthcare program since February. They were supposed to mail out my card two weeks ago. As of this morning, they have not mailed out my card.
Even with the mythical card, I will still have a $500 deductible, every month. This means that I will be responsible for the first $500 of my medical care. And it resets each month. And each month, I need to reapply. So if I need to get tests or treatments, I need to pack them all into the same calendar month so that I don’t have to pay more than $500 out of pocket. And I don’t know how I’m going to scrape together $500, anyway. But it’s better than not having any coverage at all.
I make $10 an hour. I work as close to full-time as I can. I am always in pain. The work I do, while simple and not particularly physical, aggravates my injuries. I can’t afford to not go to work. And my job hurts me.
So I spend a lot of time on hold. I make a lot of phone calls. I have to be a tireless advocate for myself when I have never in my life been so tired.
I get out of bed. I go to work. I make the calls. I get put on hold. I wait, and wait, and wait.
I don’t know what to do but keep trying.
So I may have mentioned my teeth and the removal of said teeth. The dentist yanked three of my perfectly serviceable molars out today just because of a wee widdle toofache! A toothache that made me want to go play in traffic, but still. Doesn’t it seem like just ripping them out is overdoing it a little?
Anyway, I prepared the lovely image above to show what was done. It makes it look like it was the right side, but actually, it was all on the left. I don’t know why I did it that way, but it seemed to make sense. Shut up, I’m on painkillers.
The teeth marked in red never showed up in my face, so we don’t have to worry about them. The ones marked in gold were removed during my wisdom teeth extraction in 2004, and my word, please do remind me to tell you that story because it is amusing! If by “amusing” one means “horrifying!”
The teeth marked in blue are not in my face anymore as of about 7 or 8 this evening. I have very gingerly felt the area with my tongue, and it’s weird to have nothing there but bloody gums. But you can’t see anything when I open my mouth normally, my cheek isn’t sunken, and the swelling has gone down to be hardly noticeable from the outside. I ache a bit, but it’s nothing like the agony of losing my wisdom teeth.
Finally, that tooth I marked in green. That one needs a root canal, and has a temporary filling right now. I do not look forward to the next step in this process, but it must be done. Roooooot canal. Have you ever had one of those? I recommend you avoid it. Brush and floss, kids. Don’t be like your Auntie Kate.
As brutal as it was having three teeth removed and one prepped to be violated in the worst way a tooth can be, I’m glad I had the courage to just get this done. I am terrified of dentists and their minions. And tonight, even with 2mg of Ativan in my system (which would probably knock you, dear reader, on your ass) I was shaking uncontrollably in the chair. The doctor and his assistant checked many times to see if I was all right. And I was. I just couldn’t stop the shaking. I hummed when I was scared. Not anything with a real melody, just notes. Hmm hmm haaaaa. I squeezed my hands together. I asked for more Novocaine when I felt the slightest twinge of pain, and the dentist was great about keeping me comfortable. And as he strong-armed my teeth into giving up and coming out, while I wasn’t happy to be where I was, I coped. No crying. No screaming. No needing to get out of there and have a mid-procedure, blood-soaked cigarette.
I’m proud of myself, in other words. And relieved that I found a dentist whose staff I am comfortable with, who laugh when I crack jokes to lighten the mood (my own, if no one else’s.) This could have been a much worse experience than it was. I’m grateful it went smoothly and now I don’t have to hurt anymore.
Now to tackle the rest of my teeth! I think I might give it a week or two, though.
…specifically, my teeth.
I had an EMERGENCY DENTAL visit today wherein I was notified that I need an assload of work done on my chompers, not in the least three (3!) extractions ASAP so that I stop feeling like someone’s hammering a nail into my jaw.
Still working out how I’m gonna pay for all that. Looking into cheap options.
Have I mentioned how much I hate the dentist? I hate the dentist. Ask me about my wisdom teeth sometime.
This might help with the weight loss plan, as I soon may not be able to chew. Then again, ice cream is soft.