Apr. 29th, 2012 06:14 pm
sonneillonv: (Default)
Me: *standing at the stove cooking corn pasta*

Boo: ... I am here.

Me: *eyebrow arch* Really?

Boo: Yes.

Me: Are you sure you're not over there?

Boo: .... No?

Me: Maybe you'd better check to make sure.

Boo: ....? .... Who are you talking to?

Me: You. Who else would I be talking to?

Boo: *looks around, retrieves cup of milk* Milk?

Me: I don't talk to milk, honey. The milk can't hear me.

Boo: *holds up milk, makes squeaky voice for milk* Yes I can!

Me: *DED*
sonneillonv: (believe in senses)

So church was fun today.  It was the youth-led service and in general I thought they did great.  Since I'm still kind of new I had no idea who was in the youth groups or what they were up to.  We wrote things on rice-paper slips and burned them in a cauldron, but the 11 o'clock service was a lot more crowded than the 9:30 service so when they lit the paper slips, there was a huge WOOSH of flame and everybody was like O_O.

I wore my sai necklace for the first time in years and, no exaggeration, five random people stopped me to ask me about it.  One of them called a Japanese church member over to basically say, "look at her necklace!!!!" and I felt pretty awkward about that because people always calling you over to point out anything that may possibly be connected to your culture gets really old really fast.  So I just said "Hi" and "Nice to meet you" and said absolutely nothing about it and let him get on to shit he probably actually WANTED to do. 

Nothing was really on the schedule this week except Women's Spirituality (for those who don't know, that's code-speak for 'where the Pagans hang out'), which I'm already going to, though I utterly forget what the theme is supposed to be (Motherhood and Remembrance?  I think?).  So I signed up for a meeting aimed toward beginning meaningful conversations about social justice, and I also tentatively signed up for the church Work Day to come and have breakfast and then do landscaping stuff.  Manual Labor FTW.  The husband and I have a ton of stuff planned for that Saturday already but this is early morning so I can probably squeeze it in.  So I'll do that until sometime between 10-12, then drive the boo to his grandma's, then come back and have dinner-and-movie night with my husband thanks to one of my customers giving me a free dinner for two at her son's restaurant.  (Normally we can't afford to go out.)  We'll be seeing The Avengers, so looking forward to that.

Finally got around to fixing my juice-cup garden today.  None of the water from the storm two days ago had evaporated, probably because it rained yesterday.  I should have punched holes in the bottom of the cups for irrigation, but since they're just starters, I didn't figure it'd be a big deal.  Went through and picked all the flotsam blown into the cups by the storm, fixed the ones that got overturned, all the seeds seem fine.  Considering getting some clips to stabilize them and moving them into more direct sunlight.  We go through a lot of two-liters at my workplace, so I'm going to try that DIY Sub-Irrigated Planter idea I saw somewhere on tumblr last week.  I'm sure the neighbors think my efforts are ugly and tacky, but for a Witch my green thumb is sorely lacking and I'd like to get something grown this year.

It's an absolutely beautiful day and I want to go out and do something so badly, but I have no idea what, so I've just thrown the doors open and let the breeze in.

sonneillonv: (Default)
It was a battle and a half. Lots of crying, lots of dramatic choking, more than a little spitting up. Chicken noodle soup and a cup of cold tea with honey. By the time it was over, he was taking bites of noodles and chicken without crying and near to guzzling the tea. This is good and necessary because he's barely eaten anything in two days and has been crying and fever-sweating constantly, so getting some salts and nutrients in him, and replacing fluids, was IMPORTANT.

So I'm happy, and he got a popsicle for his efforts.
sonneillonv: (moved on)
He was up literally all night, sleeping in fits broken by periods of hysterical crying because his throat hurts so badly, and he can’t cough because it hurts, and can’t eat or drink because it hurts. He had a fever and was sweaty, and is generally snotty, though that may be because he can’t swallow.

Pediatrician said it’s probably a virus, nothing to do but wait it out. She obvsly wasn’t up until 5am with him last night. She said he can have cough suppressant medicine and warm tea with honey, which is a remedy I can totes get behind. It still hurts him to swallow, but he’s a good boo, so he’s drinking it because I told him to and at this point he’s in a state of pure, blind trust because Mama is magic and nothing else is working. He’s too young to gargle - he still swallows most of his toothpaste despite endless explanations about how he’s not supposed to. Otherwise I’d have him gargling salt water.

He’s so miserable, poor thing.
sonneillonv: Invader Zim Quote (Slytherin Doom)
A few days ago we got a letter from Job and Family Services saying our Medicaid coverage would be terminated on 4/30/12 because of non-compliance with the reapplication process. I made a confused phone call to Job and Family Services which basically amounted to, "But we were there two days ago. We brought all our paperwork. We were told we were in good shape with Medicaid and Food Stamps even though we had to opt out of TANF." The very nice woman on the phone said the letter was probably mailed before the appointment - because things are so hectic over there right now, what with 1/3 of their offices being shut down thanks to budget cuts and the remaining case load shuffled onto the other offices who, due to budget cuts, were not allowed to hire more people to deal with the additional work, the mailers can get a little off-schedule and mixed up.

I assured her I totally understood this and I hate our governor John Kasich for his retrofuck worship of Scott Walker, because they're the ones who thought severely slashing the mental health budget was JUST SUCH A SHINY PERFECT IDEA, and I'm not upset with JaFS, I just want to know if we have insurance.

"You're good," she assures me. "You totes have insurance. I'm looking at the notes and the notes say you're in full compliance and you're assigned these benefits."

So that's great, and my husband's burgeoning anxiety attack was averted.

Today my husband went to the store to pick up things. Among these things was his seroquel prescription for the next month. He's already out of pills and a little late getting in because my work schedule was unexpectedly hectic this week, due to my only teller coworker having a family emergency that required me to take his shifts. He gets there, they run his insurance.

Cancelled. You may have noticed it is NOT 4/30/12 yet. My husband's anxiety attack is now three times as severe as the first one.

Seroquel, even the generic kind, is $200 for a month's supply. Because we just had to opt out of TANF, we are operating at a little over $450 in DEFICIT every month. We are pulling from our savings until I get my second job, which, as I pointed out before, will mean working twelve-hour days three days a week. We attempted to donate plasma, but apparently I have superficial veins and Husband's meds change his blood chemistry too much.

Job and Family Services is not in on Saturdays or Sundays. The very earliest I could talk to them would be Monday. They will probably require us to undergo the full reapplication process, including submission of paperwork and appearance at mandatory appointments, which could take at least a week.

Husband is going to start physical withdrawal TOMORROW.

Seroquel is a class 2 controlled substance in the state of Ohio. Pharmacies, as far as I can tell, are not allowed to do a partial refill on class 2 controlled substances. Otherwise we'd try buying three or four pills and stretching them as far as we could. My understanding of class 2 controlled is that they must be filled exactly as the doctor prescribed them, anything else opens up the pharmacy to lawsuits. I am going there tomorrow to try to bargain with them anyway.

As a reminder, Husband has severe bi-polar disorder NOS (meaning atypical). Seroquel is basically the foundation of his entire med regimen. He cannot have antidepressants because they will trigger a manic phase. He cannot have anti-anxiety meds because they will trigger depression. At this point we are trying to decide which state is the least dangerous, with the possibility of intentionally medicating him onto whichever of his poles he can survive the longest. It's harder than you'd think. Anxiety is not depression, but when he is anxious he self-harms and is actively suicidal. Depression is terrible, severe depression (he's rated at 4x 'normal' severity, whatever the hell that means besides "Shit, you're DEPRESSED"), but the up-side is he is too depressed and listless to get the energy to commit suicide or cut himself. Unfortunately, our son fits into this equation. My husband is the one watching him during the day, and if he's in a haze of total depression or in a self-harming frenzy of anxiety, the boo will suffer. I have no choice - I have to work, because with a little hard work and effort and shiny bootstraps you can totes get ahead in life.

When I say that health care in the US is fucked up and broken, this is what I mean. Republicans and Libertarians accuse progressives of 'whining' about this shit. I am not whining. I am fully fucking enraged. I am ready to go on a fucking bender of destruction and tear the establishment down around their fucking ears. I want my family safe and healthy, damn it. I want my husband to get the fucking meds he needs to live some semblance of a worthwhile life! (Note here: I mean worthwhile TO HIM, since in both his severe BPD phases he becomes convinced life is not worth living.) I want the bigoted, privileged, smug, retrofuck dipshits who push tax cuts for 'job creators' while hacking away at the social safety net and fighting a racist and destructive 'war on drugs' and otherwise refusing to respect the bodily autonomy of anyone other than straight white able-bodied white men to die in a fucking chemical fire. I want to curse them with boils and sores and flesh-eating viruses. I want to see them rot from the inside. And I want to stand there and tell them, "No, you can't get any help, because YOU'RE FUCKING ASSHOLES who set this system into place and NOW YOU GET TO DIE BY IT, YOU WORTHLESS FUCKING SHIT STAIN. MAY YOUR FUCKING KARMA RETURN TO YOU."

But of course I cannot do this because of responsibilities.

So instead I rage on my journal, and on Tumblr.

And while objectively it doesn't do a bit of good, I love y'all for listening.

Fuck this. I need to pray. I need to go pray so hard.


sonneillonv: (Default)

August 2012

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