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Showing posts from April, 2017

Brunette, Good. Blonde, Bad.

Yesterday I couldn't decide between writing about anal leakage or about becoming a buxom blonde. 
On October 16th, 2014 I decided to dye my glorious mane. (I am naturally a brunette, just a shade or two up from black.) My whole life I wanted to know what I would look like with golden locks, would my life suddenly become more fun and filled with stunningly handsome Olympians named Thor or Hansel? I craved to look like another half-Lebanese beauty, Shakira. I truly desired to be almost anyone else at that time. 
When I was released from the hospital in April, 2014 after my surgery and complications, finally off iv nutrition after 6 weeks. Still only on a full liquid diet, I went to see a new doctor that I was referred to (because I was threatening to murder the doctor I previously saw). I told her my symptoms and what I was currently experiencing. After I humorously mentioned my new blog, she ripped out the unknown invisible rug I was standing on and blankly said that I probably didn…

Fatigued

I didn't think that each post would be about the reason I'm late to posting and what new/old fun thing my body throws at me. But here we are. 


Today it is fatigue.  fa·tigue fəˈtēɡ

extreme tiredness, typically resulting from mental or physical exertion or illness.
Jesse and I had a fantastic jaunt to Philadelphia last weekend. We stayed in Old City and ventured around to Fishtown, where we purchased an awesome sewing table; Chinatown, where we ate at a ramen and tea bar...fucking amazing, and Center City, where we devoured scrumptious appetizers and desserts at V-Street (vegan restaurant with many gluten free options...winning).  We shopped, drank, and savored. We walked, talked, and fucked. It was marvelous. We took detours coming home on Sunday, delighting in ever last drop of the sunshine and the romance.  We swooped up Max, our handsome 12 lb. dachshund, from my parents' house (seriously the best grandparents in the land), switched to his favorite vehicle (we have 4, it's…

Invisible and a little sensitive (and a little angry)

People with invisible disabilities, such as chronic pain or illnesses are often accused of faking or imagining their disabilities. Who accuses these people of faking or imagining these disabilities?

Mostly it is the person whom it is affecting. Not discounting the doctors or family or friends or co-workers or strangers who make passing judgments. Especially the old coots who think it is perfectly kosher to steal people's wheelchairs in airports, fucking wrinkly twats (literally 😬). 

One of my close friends, who I've known since childhood, was always extremely active and outdoorsy. She never let anyone or anything slow her ass down until one day she couldn't even get that beautiful behind out of bed; she was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. She has been constantly fighting not only her body, but the stigma of having a disease that many people consider fake or superficial. 

This past year she had a terrible flare, which meant all over pain, plus vertigo and chronic migraines. She …

Top 20 TV Shows

Top 20 TV Shows...my lifelines.
Friends (Basic)All My ChildrenBuffy the Vampire Slayer (except Season 6, no Joss 👎)Charmed PsychFireflySabrina, the Teenage Witch (When she leaves college, things take a downward turn, but the series finale is A+)Arrested Development (Only Seasons 1-3, 4 is absolute poop)Parks and Recreation (sans season 1, that shit is terrible)Golden GirlsWelcome Back, KotterOne Life to LiveSOAP (Billy Crystal is the master of all comedy)Warehouse 13Murder, She WroteFrasier (Watch Cheers too)Boy Meets World (Corey and Topanga were my #relationshipgoals)Gilmore Girls30 RockCastle
My life has been spent wrapped in blankets watching these shows. Some dozens of times. I can repeat every line of Friends and have no shame about it. I spent every day of my life with All My Children and One Life to Live until the day they were unjustly and horrifically cancelled. When Psych and Warehouse 13 were taken off Netflix I had medium sized nervous breakdowns. Jesse says he's wait…

Failure is not an Option

Friday afternoon- sitting in the passenger side of mom's red infiniti sports car on the way to Wegman's. We had just left my 2 1/2 hour long allergy appointment, I called my GI doctor's nurse.

"Hello. This is Gabrielle Rosenfeld. I am returning your call"

"Hi, Ms. Rosenfeld. We got your blood work back and I can't really say anything until a doctor looks at them, but, well..."

(5 minute conversation about my GI doctor's upcoming wedding and then back to business)

"I can't say anything right now. but the Humira levels and antibodies. It's nothing bad. Don't concern yourself. I will tell you on Monday or Tuesday, once they have a chance to read them."

"Great. Thanks."

(After 14 years, you know where this is heading...your body struck again. You know that all the hope and positive thinking in the fucking verse won't change your body. You know that whenever you try to get healthy your body goes on the defensive. {In…