I need to get storage caught up ASAP… see below for one of the reasons why. I also simply don’t want to lose my stuff…
(featured image is a neighbor kitty who came to visit yesterday. Super sweet girl.)
This has been a wild and weird week for me. Had appts and such Monday through Wednesday, everything fine… Thursday night I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. I had a sharp jab of pain right in the middle of my left shoulder blade. Pain radiated down my left arm and across part of my chest. Short of breath, etc… went to the hospital, EKG was fine and they sent me home two hours later with scrips saying I likely pulled a muscle.
Okay, here’ the problem with that: I’ve had sciatica and various injuries my whole 45 years. I FUCKING KNOW WHAT A PULLED MUSCLE FEELS LIKE!!!!! I also know what nerve pain feels like. They gave me two Norco, one Ativan, and a shot of Toradol (which hurt like a motherfucker) while there, which did virtually nothing.
So, flash forward to the same time last night. Pain SLAMMED into me again. Same spot, same radiating pain. This time it also sent a straight line of pain across my back, stopping short of the right shoulder blade. Called the OHP nurse line, which told me to call 911 again. One of the same medics as the night before. BP high again, but nothing super high. I have my own cuff/monitor thanks to my dad (heart patient) years ago insisting on getting one. So I picked it out and he bought it for me. I’m monitoring it for now and have my followup with my clinic on Monday. I’m taking pics of each reading.
Here’s the thing: last night before bed, I took a flexeril (muscle relaxant) and a valium left over from my scrips (weaned off due to choosing it or oxy for my chronic pain). This morning? Pain down near a 3 or 4 where it was hovering between 7 and 10 until sometime during the night. I kept telling the doc at the ER that it wasn’t a pulled muscle. I have my beefs with the vast majority of medical professionals. They don’t fucking listen to those of us who know our bodies, assuming we’re just dumb motherfuckers. So, I’m guessing a massive panic attack from all the layers of stress in my life.
Shifting of Things
As many know of my homeless situation, I’ve been staying at a friend’s house for nearly a year. Currently in the basement. I got back on the waitlist for Transition Projects some weeks back. Normally, they put you in a stage 1 shelter once your number comes up. Because of my disabilites and having Portia (my Emotional Support Critter), they shifted me to bypassing a stage 1 shelter (open rooms like dorms, barracks). I can’t do a top bunk and with Portia, I need an enclosed space. They moved me to the list for a stage 2 space, which is the transitional housing, presumably private spaces. She said it may still be a few weeks.
One thing I need to get taken care of is get Portia updated on vaccines. I wish they had told me initially when they said I needed the letter for her to be an ESA. Details are important.
Then there’s my stuff. I won’t be able to bring everything I have here at the house to wherever the housing is. With storage being locked down, I’m stuck. I need to get it paid up ASAP so I can start moving things over there and bring my stuff here to a bare minimum.
I now owe roughly $1000
Rent: $305/ea = 915 [January, February, and now March]
Late fees: Over $100 (applied on the 6th, the 15th and then the end of the month. The end of month one is $50 each)
So, somewhere over 1K. Because of aforementioned medical fuckery, I need to take it easy for a few more days. I have a task tomorrow, but if the client helps, I may be okay. I just need to slow down and not try to break my own damn speed records. My pain is down today so if that keeps steady, I should be okay tomorrow. I’ll just need to be careful with the tasks for a while.
My options for my stuff, if I get into the shelter sooner rather than later:
- leave things here for a bit until storage frees up.
- get storage paid up and move things down there.
- find a friend to stash everything extra until storage is open again.
I’d MUCH prefer the second one. I hate asking friends to store my crap. In general, I hate depending on others for anything, including financial help. But I’m stuck in this vortex of being jobless (in terms of steady work), homeless, and dealing with physical disabilities and PTSD.
Wanna know what hell is like? Live my life as it is right now. I’d love to be pain free, in my own place, with a steady job I can do without pain. I’d love to get my service dog and have more confidence in getting out and about. Rebuild my life. The PTSD affects a lot of it. I am well on my way to getting into therapy again, this time to address PTSD and getting my damn life back on track.
So there you have it. My life these last few days. One ambulance ride, paramedics two nights in a row, meds, and just trying to sort shit out and survive.
If my panic attacks are “leveling up,” I’m royally fucked. When they mimic a heart attack, it’s bad. Especially since my dad and both of his brothers were/are (one is still going) heart patients.
I am my father’s child on so many levels.
That’s all for now…