adventures in trucking

There is a spider living inside of my truck.  I’ve never seen her but her silken handiwork gives her away.  So far, i’ve only found strands in front of the steering wheel going from somewhere to somewhere else.  Have never seen any dead or paralyzed insect meals awaiting their fate.  Although there was a rather frenetic mosquito trying to exit through the window next to my ear the other day.  I can go days without leaving the house so i’m not sure how long it had been trapped inside the cab.  Since i can’t stand mosquitoes, i smashed it against the unyielding window probably denying my arachnid passenger the chance of a meal.  Tough titties or tough spinnerets, whatever.

After i bought the truck i was [delusionally] trying to protect the seats from the inevitable dog mess.  You know –  horse shit, deer shit and all the other shit that dogs routinely roll in and unfortunately, often eat.   To that end, i covered my cloth seats with a thin fleece blanket that also happened to match the inside. I failed to foresee that as Blue moved across the blanket from me to her side, she was generating a static charge.   A few shocks later and  now she won’t just lay down as we travel to the farm for her walks;  she INSISTS on trying to squeeze her 45 pounds onto my lap as i’m trying to drive.  Because i’m easy, i have learned to accommodate her neediness.  OK, i caved.   Since she’s anxious anyway, any deviation on my part from the road onto the goddamned rumble strips sends her leaping up in dismay.  It’s bad enough to know other drivers are judging me for my lack of concentration but i don’t appreciate the dog adding her 2 cents.

 

The other problem with having her  mostly on my lap is that when i need to make a turn, i have to suck in my belly fat to make room to move the wheel.   Way to body shame, Blue.

 

One very annoying ‘feature’ that comes included is that the tail gate locks when you lock up the truck, but it doesn’t unlock when i unlock the door UNLESS i double click the unlock button on the remote.  Some nonsense about helping to prevent tail gate theft.  All i know is that when i get to the dump with my trash, i want the motherfucking tail gate to open.  So, i either have to shut off the truck, remove the key and double click the remote or remember to bring the second remote along for the ride.  Pisses me off.

 

A poor design somehow led Ford to put the panic/alarm button right next to the lock button on the remote.  Can’t remember how many times i’ve set it off by accident [and my big thumbs].

 

I’m getting used to the auto start and stop feature on the truck.  Luckily it’s function can be disabled for city driving.  Since i am country driving, i can see that it does help to conserve fuel when sitting at traffic lights but it’s taken months for Blue to adjust to it without her leaping up from my  lap every time the engine restarts.

 

I also stubbornly admit that i have grown to enjoy the automatic transmission even though i still occasionally reach for the stick.   The power windows are also nice as long as i don’t strangle Blue putting them up.

 

Overall, i’m glad i bought the new truck and i’m very glad i didn’t end up being filmed by Live PD  for reckless driving or reckless endangerment or reckless one-thing-or-another because i drive with a dog wedged between my gut and the wheel.  I don’t think the excuse of ‘my dog made me do it’ is gonna fly with a county sheriff.

 

Doc

 

 

 

 

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F33.1, still?

I saw my shrink again last week.  It had been 3 months since our last encounter when i told him i was stopping all my meds.  He told me then to come back in 3 months [last week] but i honestly didn’t believe i would ever see him again.

 

I began to wean off of my meds and almost immediately started into a hypomanic phase. My first, no-denying-it manic episode and it’s been [mostly] lovely.   I was convinced that my MDD was actually bipolar disorder, something my T has asserted for a while.   It’s been, like, 2 months and everyday that i wake up and feel the energy and the smile on my face, i rejoice.  I have been depressed for so long  [YEARS] that it feels like this is a gift.

 

The triangle relationship i have had between myself, my shrink, and my T,  however, is not a gift, not cool, and  probably not going to continue.  It seems that my shrink and T used to work together on the inpatient psych floor of my local community hospital and consequently and unfortunately,  neither can stand the other.   This dynamic has, over time, made it really hard for me.  There have been times when i really needed my T to share info/thoughts with my shrink but it never happens.  You know, coordinated care and all that crap.

 

So, anyway,  i was obviously hypomanic last week when i returned to get my ‘if you won’t take meds,then piss off” speech.  To his credit, he did notice my animated mood, asking me “are you on illicit drugs?”   Um, no.  Followed by “has anyone ever told you that you are bipolar?”  Um, yes [just not you].  I told him that i was having great difficulty staying asleep and was smoking pot in the wee hours just to get back to sleep.  He nodded, flipping back  and forth through my file, and told me to take hydroxyzine.  He also said that if i felt “out of control” that we might need the “big guns” – he mentioned seroquel, zyprexa, and risperidal.  No thanks, but i felt that at the least he was in agreement with a bipolar diagnosis.

 

But as i was checked out at the front desk, i saw that my dx code was still F33.1 – is MDD, recurrent, moderate.

Motherfucker!

 

I now have an appt. with a psych nurse practitioner at the end of september.  Time for another opinion, i think.  Plus, nurses rock!

 

Doc

mystery solved

For a couple of months i’ve been periodically finding “water” under the trash can in my kitchen.  I searched the can – no moisture inside, so not leaking from there.  I then assumed it must be coming from my 24 year old refrigerator, 2 appliances away.  Damn, damn – well i knew i’d eventually have to replace some [all?] of these appliances.

 

But, like the procrastinator i am, i decided there was no big rush.

 

Occasionally, during these same past few months, i would hear a kinda crashy sound somewhere in the house.  I could never find the source of this noise and since the dog didn’t seem bothered [or even to hear the sound], i began to think i was making it up.  Ah well, nothing new there.  So on i lived in quiet wondering.

 

Until today.   Today, as before, i heard the sound, went into the kitchen to see what had fallen, and found nothing.  But, 5 mins later i returned to the kitchen and found wetness again under the trash can.  As i began to mop it up a couple of soda cans roll out of the side of one of maybe 6 cases of diet soda stacked  RIGHT NEXT TO THE TRASH.  Oooooh….!

 

When i bothered to look closely, i could see that several of the cardboard boxes were warped and a bit squished.  Upon closer inspection, i found almost a dozen of the cans had ruptured and leaked their contents.  I checked the expiration dates and most were ‘best by 10/16’,  so not that old.   I quit drinking diet soda about 6 months ago and harbored the idea that i would donate them to a food bank or something.  Of course, i hadn’t gotten around to it.   When i decided to quit, i had just stocked up and bought 6 or 7 cases while they were on sale.  Figures.  Just like buying 2 boxes of Ghirardelli dark chocolate brownie mix with chocolate chips right before starting a no chocolate diet.

 

Anyway, i knew that now was the time to go ahead and get rid of all of the soda.  Can’t [shouldn’t] donate things that might explode, right?    As i started to open each can to drain, they showed me how unstable they were.  Really fizzy mini- IED type unstable. Walls dripping.   I should have been wearing eye protection.   Who knew diet soda had such a dark side?

 

Now, an hour later, the floor is no longer sticky, the walls are clean,  i’m not worried that my ancient ‘fridge is getting ready to kick the bucket and i know i’m not crazy.  Well….

 

Doc