F this S

I'm in such a ballet funk. I really just don't want to go at all, right now. It has been a few months since work and life permitted regular twice-a-week class attendance, and I haven't taken pointe since May. And now that time is opening up? I just don't wanna! I am doing it because without ballet I am considerably less mobile and in a whole lot more pain. I'm just not enjoying myself at all.
One of the issues is that a new teacher has taken over two of my regular classes. And he's great, don't get me wrong. But it's different. Every teacher has a different style, and he isn't giving me the same experience that I have grown to expect and find comforting. He's teaching pointe, now, too, which makes me really hesitate to get back in to it. He really is a nice guy, and a good teacher, but...
sigh...

PS: trying to apply steroids directly to my scalp is not my favorite part of rheumatism. Wait, RPrin, you have a favorite part? Hell yes. All the best people have rheumatism. Me, my sister... my cat... uh... Lady Gaga...

Pilates: No Times

Number of times in my life I have thought to myself "oh boy! I can't wait to do some pilates!"
Zero. Zero times.
About once a year I get tired of having "lower abs, RPrin!" yelled at me ten times a week and start doing pilates. And then I start whining about it almost immediately.
Pilates.
I ... I really hate pilates. This has been discussed many times in the past. But unless and until some sort of magical ab workout materializes that can be done for half an hour every Wednesday and doesn't involve planks and that horrible arm pumping business I am sort of stuck with it. Because honestly, I am too lazy to do ten minutes every night before bed, or any of that nonsense. That's right, ballet, I am too lazy to do you properly. Am I ashamed? Maybe, but I am also quite literally amazed that I get out of bed some days, so I figure I am ahead of the game.

In other sort-of health news:
My ulcer is checking in to make sure I haven't forgotten it. Which hardly seems fair because the ulcer is directly related to the drugs I take for my arthritis. Which I have been forgetting to take on the regular. I have GOT to get my shit together, this is ridiculous. You can't have BOTH an ulcer and a flare up. PICK ONE RPRIN.

Orally Fabulous, That's What

So, I had a bunch of crunky oral surgery last week, right? I mean... it was okay. I had nice "hypnotic" (I didn't even know that was a thing) drugs to make the time go faster, and they let me have a blanket and all... apparently my finger isn't a great place to continually check my pulse and I am oddly sensitive to penicillin, but hey. You learn something new every day.
Anyway. Things went pretty normally. After the first twelve hours or so I didn't need painkillers anymore. Which shocked me, honestly. But, yeah... so things have been pretty good. Except...
You know what the awesome part of auto-immune disorders is? The insanely out-of-proportion inflammatory response to EVERYTHING EVER. I imagine the inside of my mouth will eventually go back to normal... I hope I live to see that glorious future day... right now I am just happy that I only look a little bit like a chipmunk with seeds in his mouth (which was not the case yesterday). Can't worry too much about the fact that my gums look and feel a bit like the inside of a bike tire, right? I'm sure the feeling will come back eventually.

My surgeon is like "take 800 milligrams of motrin!" and I'm like "I can't take motrin, ibuprofen, naproxen, aspirin, relafen, or any other NSAID because I take a fairly high dose of Meloxicam every day and I would rather not have my kidneys fail, mmmkay?" You chop people's faces open every day, how is it you've never met someone with rheumatoid arthritis, before?

This sounds all bitchy but it's not, really! She did a lovely job chopping my face apart, I swear! And, I am not just saying that because she is going to chop it open again in four months and I am afraid for my life!

The Tears Of Angels

See this little bottle of bluish stuff? This is a thing of beauty and a joy forever. I call it the Tears Of Angels and it is pretty seriously the only thing that gets me through the work week right now.
A couple of years ago the arthritis in my hands was giving me a lot of gyp (not that is ever doesn't, but some times are worse than others). I already take a prescription Non-Steroidal Anti-Inflammatory (NSAID) drug every day, and I am not allowed to supplement with any other oral medication in the same class of drugs (they are pretty dreadful for your internal organs). That means aspirin (I occasionally take a single migraine-strength excedrin when I am getting a headache, but don't tell my doctor), ibuprofen, aleve (naproxen), and every other thing that might possibly help is off-limits. I can take tylenol (acetaminophen), but it's worthless, honestly.
Anyway. You can get topical anti-inflammatory medications with a prescription. When I asked my doctor about trying a topical NSAID he agreed that it might help. He said he would write the prescription if I wanted to try it BUT my HMO (Kaiser) wouldn't cover it and I would have to pay (the not-insubstantial) price out of pocket. He suggested switching me to a new oral NSAID instead (it worked okay but ultimately gave me an ulcer so I had to switch back).
And then I realized something. You know those ibuprofen gelcaps (or softgels, or liquicaps, or whatever dumb-ass thing they are calling them today) that are filled with liquid? These ones?

The liquid inside comes right out of them if you poke a hole in the pill. For reals. Easy peasy. I tried it out, and it actually worked fairly well. I just squeeze out the goo, put a few drops on my hands, add a little lotion (or a bengay-type "pain relief" gel. They don't do much but distract you via skin irritation, but why not?), rub that shiz in... and ta-da! It works pretty well on my hands, and helped a lot when I was suffering from constant shin splints, too. It doesn't do as much for my knees, I must say, but hey. Considering that I work with my hands so much that even my non-athritic counterparts complain about cramping and pain?
Yeah. I will take what I can get.



Please note: if you are going to take medical advice you find on the internet you will get precisely what you deserve, whether it's good or bad. You are the keeper of your own health and the decision-maker for your own body and mind. I really shouldn't have to tell you that.

Cats, rheumy stuff, extra classes

Sorry I haven't been writing a lot. The arthritis in my hands has been extra shitty for the past couple of weeks, spreading up out of my wrists and in to my fingers. Last night I had a dream that I lost the ability to articulate my right hand. It was pretty scary, guys.
Anyway. This is undoubtedly made worse by the stress in my life right now. My sick cats find new and exciting ways to send themselves to the emergency vet on a near weekly basis. My cat with the rheumatism-related digestive problem? She somehow came down with an infection so rare and so aggressive that she needs to be treated with an antibiotic the size of a tractor twice a day for at least two months. Yeah. And then the antibiotic is making her feel sick, which makes her not eat... which is not what a 9 pound (formerly 16 pound) cat really needs right now.
ANYWAY.

My ballet teacher recently told me that between now and the recital at the end of June, because I am helping out with costumes and such, that I can take as many classes as I want, gratis. Which sounds pretty freakin' awesome! At the beginning of June I will be going back to a crazy work schedule and won't be able to take any extra classes at all for three months, so now is a great time to cram in as many as I can. The only problem so far has been that I end up having to haul a cat to the vet on all my available afternoons. And I have to plan ahead, because on class days I can't take one of my medications in the morning (it makes me shaky and throws off my balance), so I am left little room for spontaneity.
OH how life never seems to work out the way we plan...

Errythang is Zoloft's Fault: the saga continues

So I have noticed that I am increasingly less willing to read blog posts longer than a couple of paragraphs. Even blogs I really like and have been following for a long time. I just sort of skim over them and touch on what is going on, and if something exciting seems to be happening I go from there. But ... why? Am I just becoming too much of a lazy internet-age instant-gratification-demanding thirty-something who acts like there is no time to spare in life? Or am I really and truly suffering from a concentration problem? Could it be Zoloft's fault? After all, EVERYTHANG is Zoloft's fault.
The only other time I took antidepressants (during a particularly stressful and awful year in college) they made me totally flunk a class I was more than capable of (I mean, seriously. It was smack-dab in my major and I use the stuff I learned in that class constantly. Like, every single day. But I totally got an incomplete. Way lame.) because I could NOT concentrate for more than three minutes at a time. Also, because the teacher was being a dink, but that is another thing entirely. Anyhow, lectures were tortuous. So I decided that the drugs had to go. But that was a tranquilizer-type antidepressant, rather than the SSRI that Zoloft is.
Anyway.
I should stop typing because I just realized that if this was someone else's post I probably would have clicked over to Pinterest already!

There will be a ballet-only-no-whining-about-my-health post ASAP.

Stupid Sun, Who Needs it Anyway?

So several of my medications have photodermatitis warnings. Photodermatitis is when your drugs make you super sensitive to UV light and you burn easily. It can be bad. Like, BAD bad. When the western US was being settled and farmers were first raising cattle here they discovered that their cows were basically burning to death in the fields because they had been eating a native plant (which we now call St John's Wort, and use as a tranquilizer-type antidepressant) which caused this type of sun sensitivity. I bet they were some mellow cows, though. Anyway. it's not usually that bad. It usually just means you need to be really careful about wearing sunblock and a floppy hat or you'll get extra crispy on a fine Summer's day. My forearms tend to get tanned and freckled and in the past I have had the freckles stick around for a year or more. But I am usually pretty careful about it because I am so horribly pale, anyway.
But I totally forgot about all that this weekend.
It was Sunday and I was thinking to myself "aw man, I am super pale. These legs here, they are so pale that shaving doesn't solve the problem. These legs need some sunshine if I am going to wear skirts in public this season." so I popped out on my patio and had a little half-hour break reading mystery novels and magazines and letting my legs catch the sunshine.
And now my upper thighs are bright flaming red! Half an hour, guys! Half an hour.
Also? Not even at all comfortable to wear tights over a sunburn.
Not even at all.

Everybody POLKA!

So, let's see. A few months ago I noticed that the vicodin I occasionally have to take to get to sleep wasn't working as well anymore and asked to be switched to something else for a while while my tolerance died down. They put me on Ultram (tramodol) which... Well. Hmm. There isn't an obvious pain reduction but it does help me sleep. Unfortunately it gives me such vivid - but vividly mundane- dreams, that I often don't know what I dreamed about and what really happened. For example, I have a distinct memory of purchasing two crates of bubble mailers online for my business. But after a month of waiting for the damn things I went back and checked through my email, both bank accounts, and my PayPal account... and there is no record of the purchase. So, I guess I had a dream that I bought bubble mailers? I guess?
Anyway.

We started doing polka steps in class last night and they look super easy but I was having trouble making my feet do what they were supposed to. Or maybe I was swinging when I should have been hopping or... I don't know. I am going to have to try practicing this around the house over the week. I think I will put on my Dolly Parton collection (DON'T YOU JUDGE ME!) and prance around the living room for a while.
Provided, of course, that I didn't just DREAM about doing the polka in class last night...

Snake Oil Pulling

So, I am not totally opposed to naturopathic medicine or anything. It's interesting, my family is 50% crunchy-granola-hippy-flower-child-new-age-touch-therapy razzmatazz but also 50% science-minded skepticism. A firm background in the harder-core sciences coincides with a strong belief that we don't know everything there is to know. But, when it comes down to it, we just aren't gullible enough for most of that crap.
Now, I am not saying that trying the natural methods to fix something that is wrong with you is a bad idea. I successfully treated a moderate flare up of my chronic depression with St John's wort for a while, and I have had luck using garlic oil to help an ear infection (I didn't have health insurance for a while, can you tell?) and hey I am still willing to take valerian and flaxseed oil and whatever. But, the point is that this stuff has been subjected to actual clinical trials. I didn't start taking the flaxseed oil until I had read the extremely dry scientific papers about omega-3.
Anyhow, the point is that having a chronic health condition is like painting a target on your forehead for people who have read about a guy who read about a guy who had an aunt who tried something for her arthritis and wow now she is cured. Wow, guys. I am super impressed. My neighbor tried telling me that my problems would all be solved by drinking a glass of water with a spoon full of baking soda in it four times a day. That is basically like chugging a whole tube of Airborne every day. Which might feel like a scouring-pad of blessings when you are catching the sniffles and have a sore throat, but otherwise? Really? Yeah. But, this was also the neighbor who asked me what natural methods I was using to treat my cat's hyperthyroidism. I am using the method of giving her the drugs she needs to take twice a day for the rest of her life because it's proven to work and hyperthyroidism is fatal, thanks. I won't dick around with my pet's health even in cases when I might dick around with my own. Your cat/dog can't tell you that your tricks aren't working.
Sigh.
So, anyway, the latest-greatest in the world of treating your illnesses (whatever they may be) naturally is "oil pulling" which is benign enough that I suppose it won't do you all that much damage if you are in to it. But, that is about all I can say for it. If you haven't heard of oil pulling yet it basically means you take a bunch of (vegetable or seed-based) oil in your mouth and swish it around for twenty minutes every day. Now, I can see how this might be good for your oral health, okay. Because it rinses off some of the crap that flossing leaves behind (and nobody really flosses enough, right?). But there is no bloody freaking way in heck that it will cure my rheumatism, give me crystal-clear skin, and change the spark plugs in my car all at the same time (you know what I mean).
Now, if you have conducted a double blind study and have proven that this works on everything in the whole world, then great! When you have that paper published let me know and I will buy a copy of the New England Journal of Medicine that week. Until then, I don't really want to hear about how it "draws the toxins from your body" because dude, seriously? That is not how your body works.

(Also? It triggers my gag reflex just TALKING about it! Gross, dudes!)

IT'S GONE

Where is my waist? I know I had one. I left it right here (*gesture*). Who took my waist? Look, I won't be mad or anything. I will turn around and close my eyes and when I count to ten someone had better have left my waist on my desk.

MEH

Much less shaky this week. Also a touch less sweaty, though still *too* sweaty, IMHO. But how much of that is that I didn't take the zoloft this morning, and how much of it is that we had a substitute teacher who made us do different stuff?
Meh.
I am feeling very neutral about tonight. I felt weirdly awkward and annoyed at some of my fellow students. Maybe the zoloft makes me a better and more tolerant person. Or maybe that woman really *was* being deeply obnoxious?
The world may never know.
I dunno. Tonight I felt like... like there was some competition going for who was the most fabulous. Or something. Like I said, I don't know. I was feeling extra spazzy and like I was miles behind everyone else. I mean, it doesn't matter, right? No one cares how good or bad you are at what you are doing. No one is going to look down on you because you keep screwing up the combinations. Or will they? This is the first time I have asked myself that.
MEH.

It's Also Zoloft's Fault That It Is An Election Year

So the most embarrassing thing happened in class on Monday.
I get sweaty. I mean, sure, of course, everyone gets sweaty in class, right? That is how you know you are doing it right. And the weather in my little slice of  "paradise" (quotation marks intentional) has been unseasonably warm and gross, lately. But I wasn't just glowing. There was nothing ladylike about this. I was sweating so much that halfway through barre it was actually, honest to god, dripping off of me. So gross. And my leotard? The new lighter weight one that I just made? SOAKED. Like, everywhere. All the way totally freakin' soaking wet. Even my headband was soaked through. I did feel like it was a particularly challenging barre, but seriously. Yucka. I came home and greeted my husband and he asked me not to touch him, okay? Like, yeah.

I think maybe it is the Zoloft. I know, I can't blame everything in the whole world on zoloft (sure I can! This weather? It is TOTALLY ZOLOFT'S FAULT) but the thing did say increased sweating was a possibility. Well, it also says prolonged erections are a possibility, but I certainly don't have any of those.

OIC

So I was like "doctor dude, this medicine is great and all but it makes me shake all over. And, ballet, dude." and he's all "so just don't take it on those days" and I'm like "oh"

Shake It Like A Polaroid Picture

So in class today I learned that my impressions of last week, that the Zoloft was making me shaky, were correct and have not improved. It's not so bad when I can keep a death grip on the barre, but even balancing on flat on one foot is difficult in the center. So I looked at the information pamphlet that came with the bottle when I got home. It says "contact your doctor immediately if you experience any of these unlikey but serious side effects: easy bruising/bleeding, decreased interest in sex, decrease in sexual ability, muscle cramps/weakness, shaking or tremor"
So. I got to send my doctor yet another email when I got home tonight. It's a real pity, because this stuff really is making my brain feel better, and really does seem to be smacking down the pain a little, too. But, I will probably end up on something else yet again.
*sigh*

In other news:
We started spotting tonight. Which is good, we really need to learn that. We get all loopy and stumble around after chaînés turns. There are newly taped-up pieces of brightly colored paper on the walls so that we can focus on something easy.
I felt really terrible at our ever-present glissades. I mean, worse than usual. Must be the shakiness.
I stood next to a person at the barre who was AWESOME, though. I haven't seen her before, so maybe she was just visiting from the more advanced classes, but she really was amazing, and following her was a pleasure. Probably made me look ridiculous in comparison, but MEH.

Stop The World I Want To Get Off

Don't get me wrong, since I started taking the zoloft my general feeling of well-being has shot through the roof. My husband says I am back to my old self again, and he should know, right? The pain managment might be a little better than the nortriptyline by itself, as well.
But, uh... there are some... um... side effects. Yeeeeeah. Ones that you don't really want to discuss with your doctor, if you catch my meaning. Or, your mother. Or... anyone. But, in the name of full disclosure and helping out people who are frantically googling in hopes of learning more about their diseases or medications, I will tell you about it. Well, sort of. I mean, I will imply it. Because IT'S EMBARRASSING, GUYS!
So anyway. The information that came with it mentioned that men might have a bit of trouble with... this kind of issue. But, there isn't really a direct female equivalent of... the problem. Because girls are equipped differently. If you see what I mean. But anyway. So the ... trouble was a bit unexpected. And I am not sure what exactly you are supposed to do about it, either. I figure that they didn't warn me about it because the doctors involved in the study were all DUDES and they just didn't figure that it was terribly important for the ladies. Or, perhaps the ladies involved in the study were too embarrassed to mention it?
No kidding, guys, this is totally awkward.

ANYWAYS. Let us discuss something else so that you can stop thinking about it, okay?
Here is Odile. I find it interesting that of all the costumes I designed for this dolly, not a single tutu is constructed the way actual tutus are put together. They are usually two pieces (though I have seen ones like this, too) a bodice that is sort of bustier-styled, and a skirt which is a netting tutu with a decorative "plate" over the top of it and a matching basque, which is the top part of the skirt (it covers the territory between the plate and your waist.
This was some sort of maribou-trimmed concept. Also, that thing where the netting is white under a black costume is pretty common. It irks me as a designer, but I understand why it happens from a construction standpoint.