Change isn't that scary

                18 days and not even a drag off a friend's smoke. I hereby pronounce myself a non-smoker. So this change went so well, I've decided to make some more.
     
  I've already accomplished one other thing without even trying. No soda or any caffeinated beverage past 2 pm. I'm trying not to drink my calories. Also caffeine is hitting me like a brick nowadays.

          I want to be more active. Kickball, swimming, and taking walks will become a regular part of my life. I love playing basketball, volleyball, tennis and such. I enjoy it. So why aren't I doing it? My friends are great people but they aren't the most active. So I'm trying to get others I know to hang out and play and it's time to meet some new people.
         
        Meeting new people. This is the slightly scary one. I joined a dating website for the first time ever. It's weird. I'm not desperate and it just feels like a desperate thing to do. I know, I know. A lot of my friends meet people online all the time. I don't judge them. They're showing courage by actively looking for what they want. The problem is this. I can't judge how I'll get along with someone until I actually meet them. My gut can't tell who's an ok guy from a picture and a paragraph. It's only been a couple of days on the site so we'll see how it goes.

        I want to be more politically active. Why shouldn't I be standing up for what I believe in? I went to a March Against Monsanto where I knew no one and I had a good time. I've voted Libertarian since I could vote and I may want to get involved in local politics in some capacity. I'm NOT going to run for office but I'd like to help promote the Libertarian agenda.

       Medically, I've been keeping up with my doctor's appointments and taking medications like I should. I need to get back to the dentist for a cleaning. I also need to make and keep an appointment with a chiropractor and get my neck fixed.

        Call it an early mid life crisis. I am the only one who can change my life. So why shouldn't I? If I want adventure and excitement and new and unusual, it's not coming to see me in my living room. I have to go meet it.

Wish me luck.

Hidradenitis 2: The Ugly continues

Please read Hidradenitis first as this is just an update.

So what had happened was....

The medication they first tried me on got me sick.

My side effects: I dealt with the dry skin. I dealt with the dandruff. I dealt with the red and orange pee and poop. I dealt with the constant thirst. I dealt with everything tasting like metal. I said to myself that it would be worth it. Then my back started acting up and I was stiff in all my joints. The stiffness got worse and I was constantly cracking my knuckles and trying to stretch away the... pain. I woke up in  the morning and almost fell over getting out of bed. My hands hurt enough that it was difficult to brush my teeth. I popped six motrin and went to work. Called the doc. She told me to stop taking them. That if the side effects were this severe two weeks in, I would only deal with more severe side effects for being on it another 8 weeks. I'm angry and upset since the meds were working on my skin. For the first time in years, I don't have an open sore. I was so hopeful. Now it's back to the doc on the 15th for a new and different med.

 

 Within 3 days of being off the meds, my joints felt absolutely fine again.

 

Now I'm on doxycline and switching the topicals to every other day instead of daily. Only one inflamed area became an issue and I had a shot of cortisone today to take it down a notch. Two months until my next appointment.

 

Keeping on, keeping on.

Just me. And that's plenty good enough.

I tend to share a lot of myself with the world. My hopes, my dreams, my fears, I put them on display through social media and conversation. I don't hide things.

The other day, I was having a conversation with a friend and she told me I was the least private person she knew. She on the other hand is very private. I told her why I'm not. And now you get to know too.

What is the point of privacy? Hiding your true self and how you feel. Why would you do that? Fear.
Fear of judgement, persecution, resentment.

I will not live in fear. I want people to like me for who I am. Not for the image I project. If they don't then oh well.

We live by so many arbitrary rules everyday, many of which are antiquated and useless.

Let me give you a quick and easy example.

Clothing.
It is acceptable on a hot summer day on the beach or a park or a basketball court for only one gender to take their shirt off.
Why?
It's immodest for a woman to show her body?
It's to keep the woman safe as all men are sexual predators waiting to attack once they see bare flesh? Boobs burn easy?

So if a girl and a guy are both walking around without a shirt on, why the hell is only the girl going to be arrested for indecent exposure?

Now I'm not saying, "Hey ladies! Let's all walk around topless!" I'm just pointing out basic pointless traditions which became rules and laws.

We follow the trends. We "Just Say No!" to acid washed jeans. We will wear painted faces everyday to work because THAT is what makes us professional. We wear shoes that hurt our feet in ten minutes of wear because that is "Appropriate" office apparel for women. (It's ok. The big strong men will take care of us.)

We are lied to about our worth as women and as human beings on a daily basis by TRADITION.

Tell me if any of this sounds familiar.
1. You aren't married? Don't worry you'll find someone.
2. No kids yet? Tick tock.
3. Don't hurt yourself picking up that 15 lb box. I'll take care of that for you, little lady.
4. What's the problem? Is it that time of the month?
5. You can change a tire? By yourself?
6. What are you reading? One of those romance novels you girls like?
7. You know you should wear shorter skirts if you want to get a guy.
8. I'll bet you're a great cook.
9. Can you sew on a button for me?
10. All you women are crazy.

According to society, at my age I should be married with kids and spend my day with cooking, cleaning and needlework.
According to society since I'm not, I am not worth as much as those who are.
According to society, I must be either: A. Unable to keep a man because I'm deficient in looks. B. One of those damn feminists. or C. A psycho hosebeast.

You can be a Nobel Prize Winner but if you happen to be female your life just isn't complete until you're married and breeding.

Screw that noise.

I work 40 hours a week. I pay my own bills. I can change my own tire. I can put together a shelving unit. I cook my own meals. I have no kids. I don't want any kids. I TAKE CARE OF MYSELF.


I'm not married and don't know if ever I will be. But I can tell you one thing for certain. Unless I meet and fall in love with a guy who sees, accepts, acknowledges, and appreciates my strength of body, character, mind and heart.............. I won't be.

I am complete by myself. I don't need someone else to complete me. I am not less because I am not part of a couple. I am not less because I don't want children. I am not less because I'm not beautiful.

I reject those lies. I AM ENOUGH.

Screw you society. You're a jerk. I don't have to listen to you.






 

Unsent Letter

I hate finding out important stuff from other people. It makes me feel like you don't think about me. It makes me feel like you don't trust me.

I don't want to have to be the one to pick up the phone and call you. I certainly don't want to be handed off to someone else to talk to. That just makes me feel like you don't care about what I have to say.

I am not an inconvenience. I am part of your life. I'm someone who will always love you.

But right now, your actions are making me feel like I'm not important to you.

That hurts. And pisses me off.

You will always be a part of my life. This isn't new. You acting this way. So I have to either accept it or throw a fit about it.

You went into the hospital. I heard about it a week later from your someone else. You wrecked your car. I heard about it 12 days later from again someone who isn't you.

This is unacceptable.

I know I live in another state and out of sight is often out of mind but come on.

And then my dad walked in (ADULTS ONLY)

My boyfriend and I had the house to ourselves. Mom was at work. Brother off at college. Dad at a computer fair. So one thing led to another and we were "Having fun" in the living room.

On this particular occasion, having fun included a "massaging device". You get the picture.  If you don't then you are too young to be reading this anyway.

So there I was on the couch in a skirt and nothing else and there he was mostly clothed and busy.

Rattle went the doorknob.
"No!" came out of our mouths in unision.

I ran to the bathroom. He zipped and straightened up and tossed the "massaging device" under the couch.

I tried to think. I didn't know what was seen. I splashed water on my hair and threw a towel around myself and tried to play it off. I walked back out to the living room and grabbed my clothes off the couch.

"Hey, Dad! You got back early. Hey, sweetie. I'm just gonna change and then I'll be ready. Sorry about the wait." said I blushing furiously.

My guy was sitting on the couch, his face bright red. My dad in the armchair, face hidden behind a newspaper.

I changed into fresh clothes and went back out to the living room. I sat beside my guy on the couch.
He looked at me and mouthed silently "It's under the couch."

Well, no quick escape then. We had to retrieve the "massaging device" before my parents found it.

He moved to sit on the floor as did I to block some of the view. My dad was just sitting reading the paper and smiling.

"So Dad, no new computer this time?" I said, trying to divert his attention while my guy was trying to grab the wayward device.

"Nope. Not this time." he said and continued reading.

All of a sudden, I hear buzzing. Loud buzzing. He almost had it and it turned on while it was against the wood frame of the couch. He got it and shut it off and shoved it in his jacket pocket. He just looks terrified.

At this point we are both three shades of tomato red and are praying he doesn't ask what that sound was.

Time to make an escape.

"Ok, Dad. We're supposed to meet up with some friends at the pool hall. I won't be home for dinner but I'll be back by curfew. Ok?" I spat out quickly while standing up and grabbing my jacket.

My father put down the paper and looked at us. Just looked at us.

"Ok?"I asked.

"Well, that must have been very embarrassing for both of you." said my dad. And then he started laughing.
"Be home by curfew."

My dad is awesome.

The Freedom of not being Pretty

I am not pretty.

This isn't me being down on myself. I'm not saying I'm ugly or deformed or anything. I'm not fishing for compliments. I'm just not pretty.

It used to bug me. We are taught that we need to be pretty. Dye your hair, lose the weight, get the surgery. Screw that.

My worth does not lay in the way I look. It is in what I do and who I am.

I scratched my finger yesterday on a needle. When checking it to make sure it wasn't getting infected, I noticed something. I have a scar that runs paralel to it. I kept looking. I have a scar on every finger.

What does this say about me? I'm not scared to get my hands dirty. I'm a worker. I have calluses and hangnails. I also have silver nail polish on cause I'm contradictory like that.

I'm short and solid. Wide shoulders, wide hips, wide feet and a wide smile. I'm built sturdy. I won't blow over in a wind.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, I had two little girls talking about me.
Sarah " Miss Kristen, why do you have so many freckles?"
Cynthia "Sarah! They aren't freckles. They're beauty marks. And since she has so many, she must be the most beautiful girl in the world."
I laughed so hard.

I figure that this saved me some pain in life. And tons of maintenance. I don't straighten and blowdry my hair everyday. I wear makeup maybe once or twice a week. I shave my legs on a monthly basis. Even when I was thin, my hips had me in a size 12.

Gracefulness was never an option, delicate is not who I am. I'm not a Princess who needs protection. I'm capable and strong and independent.

I'm good with that. People want to get to know me for my personality. Now my personality is pretty damn good. Or at least I think so. I have a lot more friends than enemies. And my close friends are some of the best people I've ever met.

Besides the truth is this. If someone really loves you, they think you're gorgeous. They see the beauty of your kisses, not the freckles on your lips. They see the flash in your eyes and not the circles underneath. They fall for your soul not your body.



 

The Ugly Disease - Hidradenitis

I finally went to the doctor. I had an open lesion on my inner thigh and one on my rear end. None in the armpits for once. I've had so many there that my armpits and the skin just below are a mass of scars and pitted skin. Not to mention the blackheads that no amount of scrubbing gets rid of. My inner thighs are almost as bad. Friction from walking generally makes those boils burst quicker so I don't have to deal with it as long. I also have some light scarring under my breasts from some popping up there ocasscionally as well.

This disease, what it does to me, is not new. It's just newly diagnosed.

I didn't know what it was for years. It started slow. I had a blister or something under my arm. Oh well, my bra just rubbed me wrong. It healed. Then I'd get these boils that felt like there were little peas under my skin. Oh well, I need to lose weight so my skin won't rub together like that. Bring on the baby powder until I realized I couldn't use it at night without waking up with a sinus headache from breathing it in. No sleeveless shirts and must have a skirt on the swimsuit. Whatever you do you mustn't raise your arms in public.

It started getting worse. It got to the point that I pretty much had an open wound at all times.

I still didn't go to the doctor.

Then I had a conversation one night at the bar. Chatting with a friend, she told me about her skin condition that she was going to have to have surgery for. Hidradenitis Suppurativa. It all clicked. I asked lots more questions and did some online research. Then I went on Google and did an image search. Trust me. It is not pretty. But one of the moderate cases looked exactly like what I had going on. She gave me a bunch of helpful hints on using special cleanser and bodywash and of course told me to get to the doctor.

I still didn't go to the doctor for 2 more years.

Why?

Fear.

Fear of embarassment. It's ugly and raw and there is puss and blood. It's gross.

Fear of it being true. Hidradenitis is incurable. Treatable but incurable. If I went to the doctor and it was true then I would have a "pre-existing condition" What if I switched jobs? Would I be covered? What if I have to have surgery? I'm too young to have a disease I have to deal with for life.

Fear of the unknown.  So much of what I read about it was vague. They don't know what causes it. They don't have a solid treatment plan. Worse case scenario is they would have to remove sections of skin that are too infected and scarred to be saved.

Fear of worse down the road. Hidradenitis is often paired with some other fun diseases. Crohn's, Hashimoto's thyroidosis, and a few other immune disorders.

So what finally made me go to the dermatologist? 

My butt. I'd never had a boil there before. It was spreading.

No more excuses. No more delays. No more giving in to the fear.

March 21, 2013- I went to my appointment.

I have Hidradenitis. It's confirmed. No samples, no cultures were needed.
Since I haven't had any treatment ever for this, they started me on a 10 week course of antibiotics, two topical creams, and a high dosage of Zinc. They hoped that it would shock it into remission for awhile. Remission. That's a scary word. It means they hope to buy me some time away from the pain and infection. But that it'll probably come back. Just wait and see.

There is more of this tale to tell but it'll have to wait for another day.

If you want more info on what I'm dealing with, this link is a decent one to check.
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/hidradenitis-suppurativa/DS00818