Hey Y'all. So NOT dead!

 Went to reply to a text and accidently wrote a blog post instead. I'm feeling "gifty". So I'll post it here. I missed y'all. All Y'all as they say here in the South.

Girl. My pharmacy just closed. My pharmacist calls me and tells earlier about the med block by DEA. I call doc office. No answer. Close at 5, but them ladies up at the front desk, bless em, they turned off the phones early cuz they ran clean outta fucks. So I got the service.

The same service that says they have a policy about not calling docs for meds. No exceptions...but wait there's more! I hear a kid having a complete fucking nuclear tantrum in the background. I say to her, "You're working from home. I get it. I just want to say to you that you field wacky calls like this *while trying provide that barrier to the doctor, and I just want to say that you are the true hero. You keep this all orderly and working during a freaking pandemic. And us pain people are some of us really nucking futs.!"

She laughs. Says hold on, you just had the surgery right? And this added pain is from the surgery? That's a surgical issue not a med issue. I got you. I. Got. You.

Because I recognized her humanity...she recognized mine.

John just got home from the pharmacy after getting maybe one total hour of sleep nap in like the last 36 hours, where Jen the Pharm waited on him. Dr. F had made the call to Jen the Pharm and Dr. F & Jen the Pharm got federal all over federals' ass and gave out even MORE less fucks than the front ladies misslpacing fucks...

Dr F. gave me my normal monthly pain meds PO. AND THIS MAN WHO SHALL BE SAINTED AND SHOULD HAVE DAILY DAMN PARADES THROWN AS TRIBUTES WITH BEADS AND BOOBS AND EVERYTHING, THIS MAN SENT HOME A MONTHS WORTH OF A PAIN MEDICATION IN AN AMOUNT THAT MY PAIN INTOLERANT TO MEDICATION ASS WILL ACTUALLY RESPOND TO. SORRY FOR THE SHOUTING but did you see that awesome parade go by?

*whilst? *while? I stuggled with this. I'm rusty...

The end of a very long and difficult road.

I turned off my implanted cardiac defibrillator on October 29, 2013. I've been in chronic agonizing cardiac chest pain since March of this year. Back in December of 2012 I met the most wonderful and important man in my life, my best friend, Jake. He makes me happy. He has accepted me into his life and made me a major part of it. He has offered me his home as a place to die where my daughter doesn't have to watch. I love him with all of my heart. I'll admit, I did fall in love with him at one point, but came to realize that we work much better as best friends. He is loving and supportive and he has promised to hold my hand as I exit this world. It's been 12 days and I'm still upright and breathing. I may last another day or maybe even another month, but I am ready to go. FCB has custody of Punx and is taking really great care of her. She is happy and healthy, and while we miss each other so very much, it's better for both of us if I don't die in her presence. Someday I hope she will understand why I made the choice I did. To protect her, from having to watch her mother slowly waste away in agony and anguish. I am dying. I've lost almost 200 lbs and am still losing. I am on heavy narcotics and when they are working, I am sleeping. When they are not working, I am crying and screaming and begging those around me to kill me and end my suffering. It's been a hard life, a hard road. I should have blogged more. This last year of my life has been a good one filled with love and acceptance by people whom I think of as my family. I am no longer speaking to anyone related to me by blood. I'm ready to go. I hope in the end there is no pain and only peace. I hope this blog stays out there for people to read and for my daughter to see as a reminder that I once was here. That a girl named Leigh with a persnickety ticker, existed. I hope I made you laugh, and cry, and think, and moved you in some way. I hope I made a difference. Thank you for being a part of my life. If you are someone I knew and loved, know that that love was true and deep and meaningful, for I never loved lightly. I did it fully...with every beat of my persnickety ticker.

Dreaming

This about sums up my life right now.


Dreaming - Loudon Wainwright III
Copyright ©1996 Snowden Music, Inc.

I'd rather be dreaming than living
Living's just too hard to do
It's chances not choices, noises not voices
A day's just a thing to get through
Living's just too hard to do

I'd rather be dreaming than talking
There's nothing to hear or to say
With ears covered mouth closed the world is opposed
Nothing gets in or away
There's nothing to hear or to say

I'd rather be dreaming than thinking
Thoughts are small comfort to me
Dreams might be pretend but at least dreams end
And I just can't stop thinking you see
Thoughts are small comfort to me

I'd rather be dreaming than sleeping
Just sleeping you're just as well dead
In dreams I can fly, in dreams I don't die
That's why I lie here in this bed
Just sleeping you're just as well dead

I'd rather be dreaming

Change is not always a good thing...

Cause fuckitall!! They went and changed blogger on me. And now I am having to go, "wait, what?" Hopefully this posts correctly...and honestly, does it really matter if it doesn't? I really doubt the 2 people that actually check this place on a weekly basis are going to care that it is correct so much as that it's a new posting since I haven't been here since May.

I spent 4th of July in the hospital again. Pneumonia. Lost 20lbs in 4 days. I look like a skin bag. I'm a fluffy girl normally, but there are bones and hangy skin going on. It's not pretty.

Damn. That all sounded depressing. Sorry about that.

Wait, I think there is one more nugget of joy that I need to squeeze out.

Most of my friends have jumped ship and either deserted me, or betrayed me.

Kinda gives you that nice warm and fuzzy feeling, huh? Yeah, me too. All over. Unfortunately, I just can't seem to muster more than a tear, a meh, and an occasional desire to hunt some of them down and boink them upside the head with a cast-iron skillet.

I get that no one likes death and dying and those depressing and terminal people that just won't croak when they are supposed to. Pisses me off, too, that I have to live every day in the state that I am in. Getting out of bed takes effort. Remembering to hydrate and nourish myself takes effort. Dying without the support of people who supposedly give a shit about me takes effort.

I'm grateful to the ONE friend that has stuck by me in her own way. More so than she will probably ever know. And for that reason, I have been trying to update my recipe book like a mad woman so that she will have a spiffy reward for not bailing like everyone else.

Sorry about the bitter. It's kinda eating at me and sitting in my chest like that Alien thing.

And going up to look at this I realize that I have apologized for my feelings which I shouldn't have done, because they are mine and I have the right to feel them. Been in hiding mostly because I don't want to cause anyone anymore pain or distress due to my condition and also because I am not sure who I can trust to not hurt me and kick me while I am down.

Punx is growing and thriving and singing and laughing and homeschooling and playing and being a great big bundle of joy and amusement for me. She really is my reason for staying and for fighting to get out of bed everyday. Even Fat Cranky Bastard is being a decent human being for once. It's nice not to have to deal with  strife in my own home. Came up with a new word, Dramoil. Drama + turmoil = Dramoil.

Avoiding that shit like it's the plague. Or the zombie apocalypse.

Gah! I'm a lazy bitch. Sorry.

Someone should still be reading this.

I hope.

So here is what has been happening in a nutshell. I have been busy as fuck, but in a lazy way. I do an art show once a month, so I work on stuff constantly for that in between hospital stays, hospital visits, sister popping out kids (happening today), my child breaking both of her arms, random trips to Disney and entertaining the masses with my wit and snark on Facebook. See? Lots to do. And all while I am dying.

Wait! What? Dying?

Yup.

I have been given 3-6 months to live by the cardiologial know-it-alls. My cardiologist was speaking to me in past tenses during my last appointment all while wearing a look of frustrated disappointment. That sucked. They want to put me on anti-rejections and get the whole transplant process started. Pfffft. Fuck that. I am upright and breathing most days, and can be a mother to my child, where as the drugs will make me practically comatose.

I can't live like that.

So here I am. Alive today. Blogging today. About to become an aunt today for the 8th time. Each day is precious at this point, but I am not going to let dying interfere with my living. Period.

Now, on a lighter note! I have a fucking hangover. From one drink last night. Sonofabitch.

I'm a pansy-assed lightweight I guess. But a pansy-assed lightweight that was feeling just un-lazy enough to blog again.

Pfffffft.

Really with the spam comments?

Thanks to all those new readers I have. I appreciate you and welcome! To all the spammers: fuck off, already!

I just got back from a week at Disney. It was loads of fun, and I lost 10 lbs! Woot! It seems now I have managed to contract an "oh fuck-nuggets, I'm sick again" plague that has rendered me feeling all blegh and stabby towards spammers...

At a frenzied snail's pace.

I have been sitting here all day. I should be getting ready for my art show in two days. I'm not. I should be visiting my friend Chris who is dying of cancer in the hospital. But, I'm not. I should be exercising, playing with my child, cleaning my house, making jewelry, shopping for my daughter's winter clothes or making a gourmet meal for my family. But, I'm not.

Because for the last few days I haven't felt like doing much. Call it depression, lazy, or feeling like I have been kicked repeatedly by a very large horse, I just haven't had the motivation to do more than tinker a little with some jump rings and play Facebook games.

Oh yeah, and go to a completely depressing New Year's Eve party where I had no one to talk to, nothing to do, and no one to kiss at midnight. I am just a giant ball of MEH. And a squishy one at that.

I need to be smaller. Happier. Livelier. Funnier. Better.

Now I just need to figure out how...