Three Oi's Later...

Oi, oi, oi.

This was my day today! Joyous visitations! Horrible proclamations! And someone had better FIX. MY. WINDOWS. NOW!

Maintenance visited themselves upon me today. Like flies, locusts, and frogs, they are often a plague upon poor befuddled college students who only want their room fixed back the way it should be.

Alas, it was not to be today. While they actually came BY and LOOKED at the problems-light out on one side, fire alarm hanging sadly off the wall-all they did was come in and pull my windows apart. And then they didn't put them back where they found them.

So instead of fixing the two things that were broken, they messed up the windows and made it THREE broken things that now need fixing, since now I cannot open my windows without having the winged hordes invited upon me. And it's supposed to be warm this weekend, even if I'm getting out tomorrow because they're cutting the power off in the dorm tomorrow and I have to go somewhere else all day.

I went down after I came back from the doctor and complained, but HA it was 5:30 by then and all the regular maintenance people have gone HOME.

They should fix this and fix this now. I can't open my windows!

On other fronts, went to the doctor today. My days on prednisone are finally coming to an end. I've needed to come down off the stuff for awhile, but couldn't because I was (and am) worried that my entire body is going to go BLAM if I do come down off of them.

But this, apparently, is EXACTLY what this doctor wants. He wants me to go all flare queen again. OH the JOY. He can't see what's wrong with me when the prednisone is masking the problem so he's getting me down off the stuff so my condition becomes more clearly defined.

Once that happens and I am a walking mess of pain, suffering, and inflammation, then he wants to stick a needle into one of my overly offended joints and draw out some stuff to figure out, once and for all, what the HELL is going on in there. If the blood ain't got it, the synovial fluid surrounding my joints should, especially if I'm in the middle of a terrible flareup.

I am terrified. I hate being in pain and helpless, but I really don't like doing it on purpose or having it done to me. It feels to me like we're testing me to see how bad I can get, or how much I can take.

But the only way to get the stuff is to let me puff like a pastry. I don't know if I like this idea so much since it's me doing the suffering.

So, not thrilled with the plan, but I understand that answers are my best weapons I could have. If I have to take a step back to go forward, to have to suffer some pain to get those answers then I will. I've spent a year in intense pain, misery, and I am losing function in my hands by the month. I really don't want to spend the next one sliding ever more quickly downhill.

He tried to take fluid out of my good knee today (that would be the left) because the thing felt spongy to him, but he didn't get anything. Better luck next time.

Beyond that, the project is progressing at a lively rate. I'm taking my time-I have lots of it and I am going to go slowly. No sense wasting valuable materials screwing up the project because I rushed it.

Not much else up. Waiting impatiently for someone to come fix my windows. And my fire alarm. And my light.

Typing's starting to hurt now, so I'm stopping here. More than likely these entries are about to get pretty darn short because I am about to get sicker than I really want to be...apparently for my own good.

Ta,
Bec