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...nothing here is promised, not one day... Lin-Manuel Miranda


Norman Cousins was sorta right
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I remember years ago when editor Norman Cousins claimed to have healed himself with laughter. Now, that’s a cheap ass explanation of what he did and it’s inaccurate but that’s the short cut summary. I’m into shortcuts right now because I feel like such utter shit that I’m not going to do long explanations. You can look it up – it’s “googlable” all over. The useful info is that apparently laughter releases endorphins and they are very helpful little commodities your body has to mimic opiate properties and do what opiates do; cut down on pain, lift mood, make things easier.

It’s been a horrid week here at Lake Wretched (a synonym for Woebegone, what can I say?) in terms of my pain problems. Much has to do with the weather; any of you who track such things may know that not only has Seattle whipped its own record for rainfall (apparently out of 30 days which November hath, ONE did not involve rain) but last week’s snowfall which incorporated such lovely stuff as hail and lightining, snowfall and lots of ice and bitter cold temperatures clearly affected my body. I have a little “bug” on the computer dashboard which gives the forecast and takes me to “weather.com”. I look at that site every so often, in large part to see how my mother is coping with east coast weather. The site has an “Aches and pains index” which I have concluded is fucking useless to me – it will forecast a day of ‘level” two – minimal pain – and I’ll be a mess. It uses different things to measure is all but it’s useless. It uses “normal” and intelligent indicators but this is ME we’re talking about, the one that doesn’t fit on any of the stupid graphs and charts.

I was out Sunday when it began to snow and got home and warmed up. I knew it wouldn’t be a good few days, but it’s now almost a week later and things are mostly melting, the humidity is lowering and I’m still freaking out. My pain med intake is at an all –time high. This won’t last – I don’t like the things that does to me and I don’t usually need that much stuff. My normal dosage is 1 ½ pills every 3 hours. I get to take up to 8 a day. My doctor has checked and I can max out on 12 a day; that’s not the narcotic, as I have explained previously, it’s the stupid ass TYLENOL they put in with the hydrocodone. And I can’t get hyddrocodone without the stupid ass Tylenol (it’s stupid ass because Tylenol has never once done ANYthing for me and there are risks of liver damage if you take too much of it. When I go to the next step, which probably will be oxycodone, I can then get it without the several gajiillion milligrams of Tylenol which I now have to take.

So I’m approved for up to 8 pills a day and I seldom hit that. This week I’ve hit that several days. Yesterday was hell and I don’t know why but several things flared up badly all at once. The sucky part here is that my left shoulder, which has been bad for weeks is on my cane-using side and my right hip went blooey on me yesterday. I slept like shit, woke constantly and was unable to find a single comfortable position. This shoulder thing has just been so mean and nasty and vicious – it actually starts hurting WHEN I lie down to try to relax. Gimme a fuckin break.

So I try to cope. I have to be awfully careful with email because I’m at my worst when I’m like this so I have to be sure not to send out the zingers I want to . I’ve tailored most of my convention “boilerplate” responses so I can just cut and paste when someone asks “do you offer appointments with agents and editors?” or emails asking the dates of the conference, or sends me their press releases and asks to be put on several panels. I do not have TIME for this, I really don’t. Even if I did not have pain on a level of 9 out of 10 (though last night, I could swear, fro a while it went to 11), I am extraordinarily tired of the laziness of people who cannot be bothered to read what is in front of them. So I’ve got a bunch of pretty neutral emails I send out in reply because otherwise I’d get hugely snarky and ballistic and oh my god it’s every day. The ones who send the forms in to the wrong people – although the information on WHERE to send it is ON THE FORM. The ones who read the instructions and then ignore them, making my life a lot harder. The ones who want to discuss in deteail why they chose the panels they dod – I’m sorry but I simply do not have time to read this. I’m spending 5 to 6 hours A DAY on the convention and do not CARE why you think your third favorite panel is X. That’s why I do it the way I do – so you don’t have to explain and I don’t have to read 200 detailed explanations.

I don’t often read too much when I feel this crappy but there are lots of distractions chez roscoe. I play hours of computer games – no it’s probably not physically a good iea but when you can’t get comfortable in the one way that is supposed to work (lie down, rest, talke a load off….what the hell. I have lots of books, though reading it tough when you hurt a lot, and/or when you’re on more meds than normal because concentration doesn’t come easy. But for years, I’ve had “other stuff” to read; we have a large collection of funny stuff – the New Yorker cartoon collection, lots of “Foxtrot” and “Calvin & Hobbes” collections. I’ve got lots of art books – everything from van Gogh to books of dollhouse miniatures – a true passion of mine – to dance photography. Collections of “Life” magazine photographs. GREAT distraction stuff. And stuff I never get tired of. I collect artwork in a cheap way – I have lots of kids books because my favorite living artists are Leo and Diane Dillon and they illustrate lots of kids books. (um, well, um, duh.)

I also use the New York Times – I can go through a pile of “Arts & Leisure” sections (but not the magazine) and feel somewhat like I’m up on the world because I read a bunch of newspaper. I just waded through a few months worth and now have some older stacks to get through.

Puzzles work, even the hard ones; it’s not the brain not working, it’s the tracking, the long-term stuff that suffers when I feel this shitty. And this tired – I keep nodding off over what I’m reading, which is so annoying. Not tired enough to sleep – you know that one? But not exactly alert.

Last week, I had a book that I really wanted to read – Stu had gotten it from tehlibrary and I grabbed it. It was Earlier this week, I got a book I really wanted to read. It’s the third in the Terry Pratchett series featuring young Tiffany Aching and the “wee free men”. It’s called WINTERSMITH and oh GOD I love it. He has me busting out laughing in no time. God, I love Terry Pratchett’s brain.

Then Stu got a call from a friend who mentioned that Christopher Moore had an excerpt of his new book on his website. Went there, didn’t find it but wrote to Moore anyway saying “hey, you, you don’t have links to my fabulous reviews of A DIRTY JOB and STUPIDEST ANGEL, here.” He wrote back asking if I had an ARC of the new one. Why no, could I please? And poof, his publicist said “I’ll send one to you overnight. AND HE DID. And in the middle of the week from weather hell, I got YOU SUCK: A LOVE STORY and read it immediately, sputtering and snorting almost all the way.

Did I feel “better”? Hell no, but for a few hours I didn’t CARE how I felt. I could get away from enough of it that I only knew I felt like hell when I moved. Ihave other things to read but I need engrossing. And preferably funny. The “real” book I just read, a new mystery called The Fat Man’s Daughter” wasn’t engrossing. But my brain let me read it. I’m about to start (oh PLEASE let it be good) the new one by Qiu Xiaolong. I wasn’t keen on his last one but I liked the first few so gulp.

Meanwhile last night I grabbed the following books late at night: “What Would Dewey Do?”, the second Frazz! Book and “Narbonic”. Each is a cartoon collection. WWDD is from the comic strop Unshelved set in a public library, Frazz, well Frazz is one of the few fictional characters I’d like to run off with if I could. (If I could wrest his attention from Miss Plainwell) (other fictional characters I’m in love with have included Zonker – not as much as I used to, and Michael Garibaldi.) And Narbonic, which is making me laugh today. Really laugh. And it’s at least the 4th time I’ve read it.

Narbonic is the creation of Shaenon K Garrity. It’s a strip featuring Helen Narbon, a mad scientist (second generation!), her intern, Mell (“I’m an evil intern! Want some evil coffee?) ) and Dave, who graduated from college and went to work for Helen Narbon helping her debug her doomsday machine.

Helen wears a tee-shirt that reads “evil” with a little heart dotting the “I”. Stu asked if wanted one and at first I said no. Then I read the book and said, Oh yes yes I must have one! (along with the tee shirt from YOU SUCK! which I must make if they’re not going to make it for me.)

The Narbonic strips are just SO goofy and adorable and feature characters like Antonio Smith, Forensic Linguist (he goes after Helen because her 300 page “The Gerbil Manifesto” was so badly written (“23 dangling participles!)” he had to stop her. (mutant gerbils. Large 300 pound attack gerbils.) Ok, if you don’t find that giggle-worthy, then this strip might not make you feel better. But oh god, it’s the equivalent of really good chocolate when you feel like shit. As I do.

So endorphins or not, I’m back to bed with “Narbonic” volume one. I’ve ust gotten to the part where the highly educated mutant gerbils (normal size but very smart) have decided it’s time for revolution and Dr. Narbon’s brought in reinforcements in the form of Sir Pounce, the kitten who, as Dave, says “is so cute you want to barf.”

I’m sure I’ll be cutting back on the meds very soon.


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