Fresh, Hot Wastes of Time

Did you think I was kidding about my pink AR-15? I wasn’t. Click the thumbnail for a bigger view.

While we were at the ranch, the gas station on the horizon let out a bunch of little mushroom clouds. As that distracted my attention, a 737 taxied up to the ranch house. It said “Panama” on in, but I knew that was a Hawaiian airline. The pilot set up the plane like a pop-up camper and went to the neighbor’s house to pick up an invisible quilt. Intrigued, I followed him over there. The woman wasn’t home, and as the pilot made disparaging comments about her quilt, the radio in the background played “Another Drip in the Mole”, which was almost but not quite like Pink Floyd.

John Riiter died!

I’ve been pretty quiet lately… the new game that I’ve been waiting on, Acheron, started the other day with a bang, and there’s this miserable awful devilish puzzle that nobody seems to be able to figure out. So yeah, I’m obsessing.

The girls have been completely at each others’ throats for the past few days, and I have no idea why. The constant fighting, screaming, and thud of fist against flesh has been tattooed into my brain.

In happier news, a friend is painting my AR-15 bubblegum pink and I think it’s beautiful. I was considering a Barbie logo, with a little daisy to dot the ‘i’, but thought that might be too much.

I’m thinking about stopping work on the puzzle and doing something more enjoyable, like coating myself with honey and lying on an ant hill.

Y’all have to check this webpage out. It’s got everything from Dolly Parton singing “Stairway to Heaven” to Abba songs in Hindi. The out-takes from Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis recording a promo nearly made me wet my pants.

The sheer inanity, stupidity, and idiocy of the stuff that comes out of my mouth sometimes amazes even me.

Check out this house, for sale north of Seattle for $259k. It’s got a four story deep bunker underneath it, is build to withstand a nuclear blast 2.5 miles away, has its own generator, water tank, and independent ventilation systems, and the computer room is EMP shielded. Directly out of a Heinlein novel! The Achilles heel? It’s hooked up to city sewer.

Doh!

When Jo was born in 1999 I had a really long and difficult labor. After pushing for over 4 hours, it was finally over. At around 3 weeks, Jo developed a fever of unknown origin. Because she was so young, she had to go into the hospital for..3? I think 3 nights, just before Thanksgiving. It turned out to be a UTI, but they had to do all sorts of horrible and invasive tests, including catheterization, IVs (tiny baby veins blow out a lot, and they had to restart it 4 or 5 times), and a lumbar puncture. My God that was a horrible time, watching a team of medical people hold down my brand new daughter as they put a needle into her spine.

Around that time she also started having problems nursing. She would fight at the breast and whip her head back and forth, arching her back and grimacing. This got worse and worse and developed into full-blown colic. She would start fussing a little and it would turn into horrible blood-curdling screaming that lasted for an hour straight or more. She would scream so hard that she didn’t sound human anymore; it was an insectile, buzzing noise.

Even when she wasn’t crying I could still hear it. In the shower I would close the door and turn on the fan and step into the stream and I would hear her start to cry. Panicked, I’d run out and open the door and hub would tell me she was still asleep. As soon as I got back into the shower I’d hear screaming again.

It turned out that she had reflux and a milk protein sensitivity, so a change of formula (I had to use a supplemental nurser) and some medication eventually helped her. She had her last bout of colic at around 9 months.

There is no way to describe colic in terms you can understand. Your new baby screams as if in horrible pain for hours, and there is nothing you can do to help. No amount of babysitting can prepare you for it. Nothing in the world can make you feel more helpless.

It’s probably no surprise that I developed post-partum depression. In my case, it manifests as horrible anxiety. At first it was just a gnawing feeling that I had forgotten something, like I left the oven on or forgot to pay the phone bill. It grew until I was sure, every time hub left the house, that he was going to die while he was gone. I wouldn’t let anyone cross the room holding a knife, because I knew they would trip and the knife would fly out of their hand and impale Jo’s soft spot. I can’t even remember all the irrational thoughts I had at that point, but I do remember thinking very clearly that I was going crazy. I eventually found out that PPD can cause anxiety, and that I could even have some PTSD from the labor I had. A few months of an anti-depressant cured me, and all was well.

Caroline was born on 9/7/01. My labor with her was one of the worst experiences of my life. The doctor on call was verbally abusive. Thinking about her makes my heart pound. I get physically ill when I come across shows like A Baby Story. The thought of having another baby fills me with fear. And 4 days after Caroline was born, the world fell apart.

So it’s probably no surprise that I developed anxiety again after her birth. I knew what it was right away and contacted a psychiatrist. The worst part was waiting the 6 weeks until I could get an appointment. Since I was breastfeeding more with Caroline, I couldn’t take the same medication that helped me the first time. I spent a few months on medicine that didn’t work. Finally I did some calculations on how much breastmilk Caroline actually got, and it was a tiny amount, so I was able to take the original medicine.

A week or so ago my pills ran out, and I kept forgetting to refill the prescription. I decided it had been well over 18 months, so I’d just try to go it without the med. The anxiety started creeping back again.

Dammit! How long is this going to go on? Caroline will be 2 this Sunday. I do not want to be on medication for the rest of my life. I want to be whole again. I hate having to take pills. I resent having to take pills. I feel weak having to rely on them. The shrink said that he was going to try taking me off them this fall, but if it didn’t work a week ago, why would it in a month?