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| The article that pic clicks to might seem unnerving, but at least it's not Skynet. |
Whiny robots are unacceptable. Whiny robots irritate people. #transparency is one thing, #uglytrewth is another. I will quickly power point the current root causes for whine and move on.
- Post acute withdrawal syndrome. I'm only 2 weeks out from surgery, and less than that back off opioids.
- Nasty headache.
- Lost more weight than I went in with because virus on top of recovery and couldn't eat much between the two, imagine how hungry I am.
 | Stick Death Run - Push the Death-O-Meter to the limit |
Goes to this-
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| click the pic to get to the game |
Or how about an HTML5 version of the original Lemmings game, including the original sound?
But you don't have to load the game to listen to the music!
So when you have arthritis in your cervical spine and a history of trigeminal pain and they do airway for surgery, then have you lay in one position for extended time, the resulting fibro flare is off the wall once the drugs all wear off. Not whining or anything. Just saying. The Lemmings music in my headphones is helping. It's like a brain stim to distract me from paying attention to my nerves pinging over and over like BBs pelting the side of my head.
What was I posting in the old super pain days? Lemme jump back a few years and grab something.
Oh, here you go, my old Sikes and the Alien Nation (all the youtube vid codes got wiped in the Xanga server move). You might not be able to see that on mobile. And that post led to Gary sharing something I put into another post at EMP threat- imminent? Interestingly, just yesterday North Korea demo'd they can reach anywhere they want now with a missile, and next comes a nuclear warhead 'test'. You guys know that 'testing' a nuclear warhead in the atmosphere above the U.S. would knock our power grids offline, right, not to mention the fallout. So I was saying that back in April 2009.
Well, full circle I guess. I ran into Treat Me Like An Athlete, and I'll pull part here and leave it at that. This is an excerpt, because I was still voraciously super wordy back then and this is only a part of that. Bluejacky wasn't a top blog or anything, but got really good traffic on some things, and it was the first blog I tried being both public and myself on, although back then I never shared who I was anywhere else.
Ok, guys, I felt mean the other day, so I'm gonna partially retract and make an apology, but not because anyone got hold of me and demanded one. And I'm not doing this to get attention from anybody, because I've got recs and comments turned off anyway. I made a post called 'puny' blogs, which I still stand by because I'm aspie and that's the way my head works, but I can look back and see that it was still a punch below the belt, and I feel like that's not who I am and how I operate. I'm not trying to do ~this~.
And here I put South Park's infamous cripple fight, which is now blocked for content rights stuff, but here's a snip.
I'm a big believer in the whiny crabby people being the ones who survive. I have watched others 'wisp away' under the burdens of their illnesses, and even though med info pages on the internet insist that things like lupus and fibromyalgia are NOT terminal, those others I knew have passed on already. I'm still here, and my whiny crabby butt says hell yeah it's killing me, and dang if I'm gonna lay down and let it. I'm not against anyone talking about their stuff on their blogs, that was NOT what the 'puny' blogs post was about. I've got a private blog popping with my crap, and the reason it's private is because the things I say there are things that help me survive, and that includes my black side, my bad attitude, and all the mean feelings that come out on my really bad days. I don't want to share that with the public. To me it looks like a big tangled mess of ugly confusion, probably because I see it all the time. To the few allowed to sub there, it probably looks more like endlessly long boring posts about being sick all the time and every little thing that bugs me, which is probably a real drag to read. Aspies can be notoriously wordy.
This next part is a big deal. Very few people dare to stick out there and really be REAL without apologizing or masking or faking or fighting. Just being real.
So it's only fair that I bring out where I'm at *right now*. I created this blog to share information, to 'be real' about stuff like Asperger's, but as I've pointed out in a couple of posts, I feel the Asperger's is what's giving me the edge on surviving the illnesses I live with because I notice patterns and obsess over details and collect information to the point of being irritating. So this week I'm going to assess what my situation is as of August '08, and then map out my plan of action for dealing with my stuff for the rest of the year. If you have chronic illness and feel like you are spinning your wheels in the mud, this is how I have survived 20 years of lupus, severe fibromyalgia, and a variety of complications that include things like Lyme disease, heart surgery, and a really wacky immune system.
Kinda what's been happening this week. I'm talking to myself because no one else wants to talk to me like this.
The cold hard truth about illness is that it sux. Just like with my Asperger's, I pretend to be 'ok' or 'normal' with my illnesses, too, because I learned real fast no one likes a whiny butt with a bad attitude. That's the real me, but I can't be the real me without people walking away in disgust, and I have learned to hide the howling blackness so I don't scare the straights. But the real me is the survivor. I don't whitewash the crap I go through to myself. I punch the virtual walls and grab myself by the collar and shake me. There is a piece of brain that refuses to go down with the ship, and thank God I go through the really crabby stuff, because I think it has helped save my life more than once.
I actually do this to people that I love-
Because, damn it, it takes a mean person to survive a mean disease or illness. And my gut reaction is that any time I see someone else whimpering with their pain, I want to kick *them* into full blown whiny shit kicking mode, too, so *they* can survive. This isn't about life sux so someone owes me something. This is about Indiana Jones hanging off a cliff and climbing back up. It's about Jack Bauer breaking people's necks after he's been tortured nearly to death. It's about Cat Woman getting fed up and raking her claws around rich bastards. It's about ~*~surviving~*~. I personally know a woman who wisped away to her death, refusing to make the necessary changes in her life that would have made all the difference and possibly given her 20 more less miserable years, in spite of surgeries and medications galore. There are a number of corporate conglomerates, insurance companies, and pharmaceutical CEOs who aren't going to like what I have to say in this post.
True story.
Yes, the imagery helps. If your senses are too delicate for this post, go away, and don't pretend to feel sorry for people you don't understand. True story. Years ago I was working in a hospital. I was preparing to put my things away and step onto an elevator to move on to another floor when a couple of older ladies stepped onto the elevator with me. They were dressed in nice clothing, had nice hair, nice jewelry, but they were not being very nice. The lady they had come to see was on the cancer floor, and since I'd cleaned her room earlier and spoken to her, I knew she was terminal any time, and that she was distraught with a number of issues about being afraid, stuff about her family, feeling all alone since her husband died, etc. So the ladies on the elevator (probably from this woman's church) were disgusted that they had taken a really expensive beautiful flower arrangement to this sick woman, and she hadn't even said thank you. She had gone on and on about something going on in her family, and she didn't even acknowledge that they came out to visit her and bring her flowers. And I'm standing there thinking- You expected her to be a gracious *hostess* on her death bed???? My God, people, the woman is ~dying~, and you're griping about her failure to say thank you for the flowers. And that leaves so much wide open to wonder about, like how those nice ladies could judge someone in need like that and think they were better than her because they played a *social game* correctly. They weren't really there to comfort a dying woman. There were there for brownie points. And I can't help but also wonder if the church paid for the flowers, in which case the nice ladies were even that much more ugly about getting that thank you.
Srsly how I feel about comments. I don't need pats on the back cheering me on. If you can't get out there and plow walls with me, just stand back before the bricks fly with me tearing that wall down.
So if you've never known anyone personally or yourself lived with chronic or terminal illness, your advice is not welcome here. (My mom used to be very eager to give others advice on vitamin E and herbs and stuff without any experience or medical knowledge whatsoever, so I'm a bit sensitized to that kind of zeal.) This is partly why I turned comments off. I don't waste my time with ignorance and pretense. It's my 'aspie way'. I am who I am and I don't care if someone gets upset about it. The rest of you who agree with me, thank you, but I don't feel the need to show that off to anyone by hosting it in visible comments.
I go on, but that's the gist of it. THAT is where it originally all started. Pinky blog is a continuation of Bluejacky. Bluejacky is too gut punchy. Pinky said tone it down a bit.
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| click pic for more memes |
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| pic clicks to interesting demotivational collection |
I am admittedly worn out from this post. I just want to lay down for a bit before I get on game. Hopefully I don't fall asleep and miss anyone. I'll pass along what got shared to me today, it's really cute.
