I went to the clinic here today because I am really convinced I have shingles on my fucking face. Right in the middle of my forehead. So, I went. And I saw a doctor. For about three minutes.I spent more time with the guy that took my temp and blood pressure... Anyway.

He came into the room where I was sitting in a chair and he was carrying an open laptop in his arm. He never sat down, he stood over me about a foot in front of me. Excellent bedside manner. First, before even looking at me, he said it's highly unlikely that I have shingles at my age, and it would be phenominal if I had them twice. Then he looked at my face and said "You think that's shingles? I don't think it's shingles." I said, it feels and looks exactly like the last time. He told me maybe that wasn't shingles. OKay, so, I have a blistery rash on my forehead, I've had a headache for days (he said at some point "lots of things cause headaches."), the kind of point-specific headache that comes with shingles, and it is almost exactly where my last shingles infection was... So, what is it? 

Well, he wasn't interested in trying to figure out if it was something else or what that something was. He pointed out my 'blemishes' on the rest of my face TWICE (you know I love when people do that), stating that it could just be another blemish. I said "I've had zits my whole life, and zits are not itchy painful blistery rashes!" Fucking fuckwad. I could have killed him.  Told me to come back Monday and then they could tell by the progression. (I have no idea if my insurance is going to cover this (that's a whole 'nother story.) In the mean time, he said, take benadryl and use cool compresses.

Here's a thing. I thought I was really handling my stress well. I mean, considering everything... I have ZERO dollars. I'm kinda pregnant. I'm still halfway living out of boxes. I may have a UTI. I'm concerned about the possibility of Group B Streptococcus hurting my baby. It was unclear for a minute whether or not I was going to get the insurance I need for the kind of birth I want (but it's all been sorted out as far as I can tell according to my overworked slightly uninformed case worker). Oh yeah, and my car was stolen.  All this and I'm not a puddle on the floor all day every day, OR murdering people at the grocery store. Hey, I consider that pretty fucking good right now.

And now, I'm on vacation in a beautiful place where my mom lives and that's so wonderful. My lover is here until tomorrow or Monday. I held tiny baby turtles the size of half dollars. I get to relax and be hugely pregnant and eat well. So, I let my brow down and it gets all blistery. Guess I'm not handling it as well as I thought. Fucking patterns bite my ass.

I've never been good at remembering to take pills...but I guess when there are this many it is harder to forget. This is morning's share.

There seems to be a rash of tiny bumps on my lips, possibly strawberry induced (?). I dunno, but I want it to go away. I've been a bit skin-itchy lately too, other places. Random. Or not? I dunno. I do not want to play the "what allergy is this" game right now. Not that I've ever completed a full round of that game anyway, but c'mon. I'm pregnant. That's enough to process with my body right now.
Also, sleeping for shit. I had a date last night and slept over. I don't have an lj name for her yet... Anyway. All night. Sleep, wake up feeling like I had slept a while only to look at the clock to discover it has been ten minutes. Take forever to drift off again. Wake up, thinking "well that was a good stretch." Fifteen minutes. Or five. Or half an hour. The entire night. I think the baby is like, "Ma, what the hell? You slut! Wae up! Who the hell is this trick and where's my Mapa?"
No, I don't feel guilty, but the kid is trying to change that, I think, by waking me up all night. (I know, I know... it's probably not little Avery directly, but the hormones... blah blah. It's more fun to blame the baby. :) If any of you wonder where this comes from, introduce yourself to my mother. )

Monday marks the end of the first trimester. I think I should throw a fucking party.

I had a really horrible night of sleep last night. I don't know why I didn't take Ibuprofen when the cramps started. Well, okay, yes I do. I wanted them to go away. I wanted it to just be spotting, not a full-on period, and i wanted to be fully in touch with my body and what level of pain was going on. So, I had cramps, I slept from 6-9, then got up and had dinner. Went back to sleep at midnight-ish, fully aware that this was a whole period, but not cramping too much. Since I quit drinking caffeine I haven't had very horrible cramps at all. Just an hour or so of dull ache and then nothing. This is huge for me. But this was not the case yesterday. I was so uncomfortable all night. Holy shit. In and out of sleep, moaning, in tons of pain, sweating... and still I don't get up and take drugs. Finally, when my mom was getting ready for work at 5am I rolled ut of bed, buttered a piece of bread, and took 4 ibuprofen with a glass of water.  I went back to bed. Just after the sun came up I fell asleep soundly until 10:30. Whew. I needed it.
Lately I don't want to take anything. No caffeine, no alcohol, no pain killers of any sort. I like this new way. I need to, of course, apply this way to the mass quantities of sugar I've been consuming, but... all in good time.

On another note: I've been obsessively listening to Radio Lab. I just finished the show titled "Diagnosis" and in the last part of the show, they discuss how in the 20's, scientists diagnosed SIDS (sudden infant death syndrome) as being the effect of an enlarged thymus gland.( Status Thymeco Lymphaticus )

Today, before I started tackling my list, I missed a step and landed sideways on my ankle on concrete. Oops. I was on the phone and carrying bags for the thrift to my car. It hurt bad, then it didn't hurt -- was kinda numb and hot, and now it hurts again. I need to ice and wrap it.
Then, when I got home from target, I was taking the packaging off my belt -- with my teeth, naturally -- and I busted my lip open.  Double oops.
I'm helping my Aunt Cyndi move tomorrow and I hope my ankle is okay for it.

I did some extra things not on my list. The most exciting one so far is that I went through my socks and underwear. I got 7 new pairs of unders at target so I could come home and get rid of all the ratty pairs. And socks, I have too many that I don't wear because they have holes or fall down. But, well... I attach sentimental value to a lot of things. I did a great job just now of throwing out a bunch of holey socks, and I have one plastic shopping bag of only socks to take to the thrift. And only two pair that I will cut off at the holey ankle to craft with.

I really feel like I'm taking care of business. Even if I am taking a lot of internet breaks.

I am so mad right now.
I've been calling and emailing out for those sleep studies. I finally reached someone just now and she took my information. My email address. Phone number. Age. Height and weight.
I lied. Said I weighed 190 (I weigh more like 210 right now). She said I'm "outside" their "limitations", making me ineligible for the study.

My immediate response to this sucks. I should be mad at them for having limitations period. And then also for setting them so low. But instead I want to say "I'm only a size 14!" Or, if I actually weighed 190, I'd only be a size 12. I want to say "But no, I'm good enough." Like I should want to be thinner and by being thinner I would be better. FUCK THAT! And fuck them.

I said I wondered if it would be an issue, to which she said "Sorry," in what I can only interpret as an ultra-bitchy tone.

I cannot let this contribute to the body issues I've been having lately. Absolutely not.

I went back to planned parenthood today.
I have these weird sores on my tongue. And I am thoroughly freaked out. I mean, all this dating and no kissing!?! So, I decided to just GO today, and I got there around ten.
And I waited until around 4 to be seen.
And then I said (as I had mentioned on my paperwork) that I had sores on my tongue.
"We don't do tongues," she says.
"What? What about STIs in the mouth??"
"We don't do tongues. I can just look if you want, but..."
"Umn. Okay?"

-----No. Not okay. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN 'DON"T DO TONGUES'???

Anyway. She looked at my tongue and told me these sores are not symptomatic of any STI, and then barely poked at my still-itchy-still-rashy vagina and told me NOTHING except use hydrocortizone.
And then charged me 40 bucks. Which, by the way is a third of the money I had.
I cried silently after she left the room.
I have to go to a doctor. Like, now. and I just cannot afford it. Not even if I only have to pay twenty bucks now and be billed the rest.
I will, of course, investigate my options on monday, when I take a break from work (I get to work on a 150 year old church mon).
But fuck man.
My tongue hurts.
And I feel defeated.
I should also mention that I'm not depressed anymore, but this shit doesn't make it so easy to maintain sanity.

I don't feel good.
Last time i thought I bombed a calculus exam, I got a b on it. But that will not be the case with the one I just took. I think I left a quarter of the problems blank, or with question marks, and was shooting in the dark for 90% of the remainder.
I'm a mess right now, and  calculus has been at the absolute bottom of my list. Health concerns have finally moved up (which moved calc to the very bottom), at least to second, and my other classes are definitely more important to me now.
Floating around in my messiness is a lot of pain and itching. My heart hurts a lot lately. I'm premenstrual. I'm really really really lonely. I think I might put off the baby making until the fall, unless i somehow end up sleeping with a boy I trust on more levels than I even know any boys. i just cannot afford it. And I want it so bad that it's breaking my heart to not have it be it live it right now. I miss my family. All manners of family. Baaaaad. Did I mention I'm lonely? Well, i am. I have a fever. And, oh, yeah, eczema on my motherfucking vag. And in my ears. I think in my ears is the worst.
Also, lonely.
One good thing, I'm going to toshi's show tonight. So, there's one lost family member. And Tyler will be there. And P and E. I just hope i can make it until then without bursting into tears (fighting crying right now, fucking public). And a bonus would be not bursting into tears at the show.
One more good thing, I have quit wheat and sugar with a great deal more success than I thought possible from myself. The only sugar I've had is fruit, and that I feel okay about). I DID have a slice of pizza yesterday afternoon, then i think the itching got a lot worse from that. So. Am I allergic to wheat? I guess I'll find out. bummer.
At the naturopath i found out I have Labrynthitis, which means there's fluid in my Labrynth. Like, my ear tubes and stuff. (at least, that's what i think they were saying). So last night I did this weird thing involving putting on wet cotton socks, wool socks over them, and then going to bed. It felt kinda nice. And strange.
They also told me to take Dandelion, Oregon grape, and Benedryl (sp?) for the itching. She said stay off the wheat and sugar. I wish I had the ability to be more focused when at the doc, so I could make sure i really understand what they're saying to me.
Okay. I have to go somewhere. be outside or something.

Well, I'm off to planned parenthood today, to make sure that I'm not misdiagnosing something other than candida overgrowth (please, god, please let me just be right). I'm glad they could get me in today. I have to skip calculus to go, but that's okay. I might still skip chemistry tomorrow to go to the naturopathy clinic at outside inn for some other things (my throat is still fucked up, and covered in white spots that are not strep). I just need a good solid hour or two with a fucking doctor or naturopath, my body is on the fritz. Big time.
And, ps, I'm starving. I think I'll have a no-bread sandwich for lunch.
it's sunny and beautiful in portland.
I'm glad I'm cutting class, it means I'll be outside longer.
xo 

So, I'm losing weight relatively quickly now, I think. My clothes are fitting differently, all of a sudden. It's not abnormal for my body to change fast. Especially since my car has been broken down, so I walk a LOT more (I probably walked about three miles yesterday, which was really really nice... I just walked to buses instead of transferring). And I have less time, because of the longer times in transit. So, I'm not eating. 
I guess this would be fine. Except that I'm a pig. I love to eat. And I love to eat a lot. I mean, I have "indulge." tattooed in my mouth, for fuck's sake. It bums me out when I really like something, and I have a lot of it, but I get full really fast because my body is just not used to taking on food.
Just now, I made myself "lunch."  It's 2:30 in the afternoon, and I hadn't eaten yet today (this is pretty much standard, now... not that unusual, anyway, throughout my life and many other's I'm sure). I made a bowl of white rice mixed with that Trader Joe's "Indian Fare" Palaak Paneer, which looks kinda like baby poop with cheese cubes in it. Delicious. And fast. And I could only eat HALF of a BOWL of food. I'm stuffed!
Who the hell am I??
The weight loss is not something that makes me happy, either.  I like my body right now. I've been quit smoking for almost a year and a half, so I realize it might be time for my body to settle into wherever it "naturally" wants to be. But I don't want it to be smaller! I could use a wardrobe overhaul, but I don't want to go through that again. And if I do, I want to shop for this body. I wanna dress curves, god damnit. I feel like the rest of my body finally grew into my ass, and I LIKE it. I feel healthy and energetic (aside from being sick for the last two weeks, that is).
Wah.