Pengwenn's Pirate Life

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Postby xcheck24 » Sat Jun 26, 2010 8:17 am

The worst part about being upset and depressed is when you want to talk it out with someone and they just don't care to listen. That happens a lot to me. I need to talk things out and how I'm feeling with all the crap flying around me, but no one wants to listen.

And gwenn, I hope everything works out with your eye. I understand the piling on factor.
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Postby TheMudge » Sat Jun 26, 2010 8:56 am

or, even if you find someone who DOES want to listen, you tell them the whole thing and they look at you with this blank stare like, "Yeah, so ... what's the problem?"
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Postby xcheck24 » Sat Jun 26, 2010 3:41 pm

Hard for that to happen when no one wants to listen, tho. Yet, I don't know which is worse.
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Postby pengwenn » Wed Jun 30, 2010 1:20 pm

I love the Pearls Before Swine comic strip. Today's strip was funny. And now I'll go see about getting some maracas.....I live alone so it might work for me.

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Postby mslover » Wed Jun 30, 2010 2:53 pm

heehee... that is AWESOME! time to get some maracas! :D

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Postby xcheck24 » Wed Jun 30, 2010 8:54 pm

Needs more vuvuzela. ;)

Cute cartoon. It's sort of funny how writing usually lifts me out of depression and makes me feel accomplished, but I'm just too tired to write.
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Postby pengwenn » Fri Jul 02, 2010 10:54 am

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Postby xcheck24 » Fri Jul 02, 2010 7:28 pm

I've never seen this comic strip before reading it here. funny. What's the link to it?
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Postby pengwenn » Mon Jul 05, 2010 8:26 pm

I read the author's blog and click through to comics.com for the daily strip. Here's Stephen Pastis's blog
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Postby mslover » Tue Jul 13, 2010 10:24 pm

peng...didja get yer maracas yet?? :D

"Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories - we've already missed the spring"

"Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass; it's about learning how to dance in the rain."
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Postby pengwenn » Wed Jul 14, 2010 10:51 am

You'd think it would be easy to find a pair of maracas in AZ but I haven't found any yet . . . so I'm resulting in killing people online. :)

I love your "Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass; it's about learning how to dance in the rain." line in your signature. Who said it?
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Postby mslover » Mon Jul 19, 2010 11:44 pm

hmmm... i have it attributed to Vivian Greene

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Postby Mlou » Tue Jul 20, 2010 7:59 am

Hey, pengie...I've had a set for years. Never thought of using them to cope! :-D Now, I wonder if I still have them since we moved. There are MANY things I'm discovering I no longer have. Moving was a crazy time...as you all know.
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Postby pengwenn » Tue Jul 20, 2010 11:50 am

Were you a member of a mariachi band in your youth? :D
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Postby pengwenn » Fri Aug 13, 2010 12:36 pm

Yesterday, I pulled out pen and paper to write a letter to a friend so I could include it with a package I was sending him. By the time I was done with the one page letter my right wrist hurt badly. I guess I haven't use those "letter writing muscles" in a very long time. It still hurts a bit this morning. I guess I've been fully asimilated into the digital age.
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Postby JillStar » Fri Aug 13, 2010 5:08 pm

Oh ya... when I sit down and actually WRITE something out for a long time, my hand hurts. The greater issue is the fact I can hardly read my own writing. :shock:
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Postby xcheck24 » Fri Aug 13, 2010 8:19 pm

I guess it's good I still hand write all my notes eh?
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Postby pengwenn » Thu Aug 04, 2011 3:04 pm

Oh, how my life has gotten crazy. A friend of mine got kicked out of the house where he was staying so he's now staying with me. I haven't had a roommate since college. It's been a tough transition. He let his ex-wife borrow his car and now she refuses to give it back. She told him if he makes a fuss about it she'll sue him for back child support. So now he doesn't have a car . . . and he's out of work. Not having the car is making it hard for him to find a job. If I hadn't have stepped in to help him out he would have been living on the street. He's helping me out a lot around the house which is nice but it doesn't bring in any money.

At work our division has been going through a reorganization. Our department was going to be left out of it for awhile but our manager decided he wanted to be a "team player" and make the changes now. Things haven't been going well for anyone. Not only did they reorg but they're also changing procedures at the same time . . . and they moved where everybody sits too. Not very many people are happy about the whole thing. I'm a senior uw assistant and I got stuck with a desk that is small and was built for a clerk. There's no room for a 5-high file cabinet and barely enough room for a guest chair. Since I have people in my cubicle all the time I need that. And it has no privacy. Everybody else's cubes are positioned for their desk to be behind a wall. My cube is completely open to anyone walking by AND it sits right on the junction of two pathways that lead to a couple of printers so everybody is walking by all day long. It sucks. They tried to reconfigure the cube to make it better but now the only place for the quest chair is in the doorway so I have to walk over it to get in and out of my cube.

I've been living with various levels of irritation with all the changes that are going on in my life for the last month or so that I'm almost perpetually in a bad mood. I'm afraid this state of mind might not be temporary. I don't know if this means anything but I'm suddenly drawn to writing again. Maybe I'm an angry writer (even though my stuff isn't angry in nature).
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Postby pengwenn » Wed Apr 17, 2013 2:51 pm

I know it's been awhile since I posted anything here on the site but I do check in every now and then. Just quick little glances when I can spare a minute or two.

As the titles states, I've been hemorrhagging money for the past couple of months. Within a 3 week period I had to 1) replace my water heater 2) replace my radiator in car 3) spent a lovely overnight visit at the local hospital before send sent home with "we're not going to do anything abou it" 4) replaced the filters in my RO system 5) had plumbing problem partial fixed (they can't fix the whole problem with out punching a hole in the wall) 6) had repairs done to my AC unit. And now my pool pump isn't working properly and I've been nursing it along because I don't have any money left to repair it. I see dollar signs on everything now. And I'm counting pennies and trying to hold on to as many as I can.

My friend is still living with me, still unemployed, still without a car. And no where to kick him out to. I'm starting to feel like I've adopted a 12 year old boy. Not old enough to go out into the world on his own, but young enough that I've got to pay for everything. It was fine for awhile but with all the 'extra' expenses I've had recently the situation has been frustrating.

I don't think I was reading much the last half of 2012 and I was starting to notice how it was effecting my communication. I made it a goal this year to read a lot. So far so good. And things have gotten better.

Anblick I do keep up on your blogspot blog, even if I don't comment.
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Postby JillStar » Thu Apr 18, 2013 9:23 pm

Wow Penn... you weren't kidding with that subject line! The only comparison I have was last year when my husband decided to fake a stroke which cost us about $10k. Luckily the hospital wrote some of it off and we're paying off the balance. Now I'm racking up the doctor bills with some physical therapy.

But it still doesn't touch what you're doing.

My son is living with me and has been for a year... and he needs to move out! I read a series of books and that's about it. Reading has never really helped me when I'm stressed... it distracts me and then I get angry I'm distracted and not doing things I need to do. It's backwards, I know, but...

I hope things get better for you!!!
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Re: Pengwenn's Pirate Life

Postby pengwenn » Thu Oct 15, 2020 1:24 pm

So much has happened in 7 years . . . not all for the better. Story told in many parts.

My "friend" is out of the house, finally. He was a 50 year old man with a grandson who thought mowing lawns once a week was "providing" for himself. I gave him a one year notice to move out or get a full time job and save for a car and his own place. He didn't like that. He's been verbally abuse for years (more on that later) but it all starting getting worse the the 6/30/20 deadline approached. A couple times were so bad I left and spent the day at my parents, not because I wanted to, but because I didn't feel safe in my own home.

I hired a lawyer who served him an eviction notice, which helped with my peace of mind that I had a legal recourse to getting him out but only made the problems worse. on 6/28/20 he threatened my life if I went through with the eviction so much so that I called the cops. Of course he was all nice and friendly with them. My dad came over to support me. That only angered him even more so I started recording on my phone. My dad & I didn't say anything but boy did he. Then all of sudden he decided he didn't want me to record anymore and attacked me trying to get my phone away. My 80+ Dad never moved so fast in his life. He then called my brother over and after another 2 hours of my friends ranting and looking to pick a fight with both my Dad and brother it calmed down enough for me to get my belongs and go stay with my parents for the next 3 days until he had to be out.

That was all on a Sunday. Monday morning my Dad took me to the local court house, filled out some paper work, meet with a judge (over Skype) and got an Order of Protection. One the 30th I went back to my home and he and half his stuff was gone. His daughter and her boyfriend came back the next day to get the rest of his stuff. I installed security cameras all over the outside of my house but it still took a couple of weeks before I felt safe. I've been riding a high and have never felt better or happier until recently, but that's another story.
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Re: Pengwenn's Pirate Life

Postby pengwenn » Thu Oct 15, 2020 1:41 pm

The other big thing that's happened in the last 7 years is also not good . . . and also not over.

On Sept 29th 2018 I tired to give my dob a hug and she didn't want one. In her effect to get away she head butted me directly on my left eye. The one that I had a cornea transplant on 14 or so years earlier. I was in the worst amount of pain I have ever been in but I thought it was pass so I was still calm. That was until I felt something on my check and when I wiped my face 2 things were in my palm. Once was my contact lens. The other one I couldn't tell what it was. I got up and when I went to the bathroom I could see blood running out of my eye and it felt like I was crying like a baby but I really wasn't. I first thought that my lens had broken and I was holding 2 pieces (it's a hard center with a soft ring around the edge). After examing the lens I realized that the contact was intact so I thought the other piece was my corneal transplant . . . sitting in the palm of my had. That's when I started to freak out. I got hystericla.

I couldn't ask my friend to take me to the hospital as it was 1:30pm and he had already started to drink and he didn't now where the hospital was (only 2 miles from my house), I tried to call my parents but I couldn't hit the dial button because I was shacking so much. Between hysterical sobs I told him what happened and handed him my phone. He called my mom and told her and my dad came right now (they only live 15 minutes away). During that time my friend got my shoes and put them on my feet and put that piece of my eye in water and a container to take to the hospital and got my purse so I was ready to go.

When we got to the hospital they took me right in, examined me and then said they don't have any opthamologist servies at that hospital so they had to transfer me by ambulance to another hospital. They did say that that extra piece of my eye was not my transplant but actually the lens that had been implanted in my eye when I had cataract surgery after the transplant. I was only at the other hospital for about an hour before I was taken to surgery. They said the hit i took was the perfect strick to destroy my eye. My dog's head was positioned perfectly that she didn't hit my nose or check bone, just my eye.

My pupil was destroyed. My corneal transplant was hanging on my a little flap, The cataract lens was in a specimen jar. The pocket inside your eye that holds that lens in place was destroyed. I had lost a lot of the vitrius fluid from my eye which helps holds your retina in place. The surgeon warned me that this surgery was just going to see if they could rebuild the structure of my eye or if they would have to remove it. If they could rebuilding it there was still no guarantee that I would have any vision. If I could see light and shadow after surgery they would consider it a monumental success.

Then there was the recovery . . .
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Re: Pengwenn's Pirate Life

Postby pengwenn » Thu Oct 15, 2020 2:03 pm

They recovery is where things get worse (if that was possible).

I had to wait in the prep area for awhile because the previous surgery took a little longer than expected and we had to wait until the room was ready. When I got the sleepy juice they didn't give me any warning at all. So one minute I heard them talking about getting flowers for a girlfriend and the next someone was in my face telling me to wake up and relax. Apparently I was in AFib. Arterial Fibulation. My heart rate was in the 160s and my blood pressure was dangerously low and I was having difficulty breathing. I had mechanical compression socks on my leg that would start to square at my ankles and make it way up to my head before releasing and starting again. My feet and arms were elevated and I has on 100% oxygen. They said that if eveything went okay I could go home after surgery but now they wanted to keep me in the hospital but they couldn't move me from recovery until my heart rate was down to 120.

They kept telling me to go to my happy place but I didn't know where that was anymore. It's like my brain finally caught up to what my body had just gone through and it was freaking out. They kept telling me to just go to sleep and that will help me to relax. I wanted to relax, but I couldn't.

This might sound weird for some of you, especially if you're not religious but something happened to me every time I tired to go to sleep. I would just start to have that feeling that you're drifting off when I would find myself standing in a lot of blackness. There was no walls to define the space so it was kind of like being in space but there was definitely a feeling of up and down. There would be a woman standing little more than arms lenghts away and I knew her. She was me.

She was me in the sense that she was the me if everything had gone right in my life. The me if I had made all the right choices. The me that I could have been. The me that maybe I could be still be someday. I know that sounds weird but I knew her as me, just better. When I would start to drift off she would say "Do not fall asleep. If you fall asleep you will die." She was very emphatic about that. There was a sense of truth, of honesty or genuiness and command in her voice. I believed her and I would jerk awake. Nurses would come over and tell me to go back to sleep. Each time I tired she would come back and say the exact same thing in the exact same honest way. I believed her, more than I believed the nurses.

Eventually my heart rate got down to the 120s and they sent me to a room that I shared with someone who also had a bandage on one of her eyes. We got up to the room after midnight and it took a while to get me settled and hooked up to all the IVs and monitoring. I wasn't allowed to get out of bed so I had to use a bedpan and they had pumped me full of liquids at the first hospital because I was dehydrated.

(Funny side note: after using the bed pan I told the nurse when she came back that I don't think that she got it in the right position because I was all wet. Turns out I peed so much I just overflowed the bedpan.)

It wasn't until about 4am (there was a clock at the foot of my bed) that I finally got to sleep. Every time I tried I'd get that message but that she would get further and further away each time. Around 4am I had given up. I didn't know the outcome of my eye and I was very tired and exhausted. I remember having one last visit from her and then saying outloud that I don't care if I die in my sleep. I'm tired and I've had enough. I said I'm okay with dying. Then I feel asleep. The next morning the nurses said my heart rate and breathing came down to normal about 4:30am and that I should have just gone to sleep earlier and I would have been fine. I never told them about my visitor. This was about 6am so I didn't sleep much.

Getting home was almost worse . . .
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Re: Pengwenn's Pirate Life

Postby pengwenn » Thu Oct 15, 2020 4:27 pm

And the story comes full circle to my first post (wanted to make them shorter as easier to read in bite size portions).

The next day the surgeon checked on me and I could see light and shadow. With that eye it looked like really blurry shadow puppets but only if you were within arms length of me. Beyond that everything was either a blog of light or a blob of darkness. While I couldn't make out how many fingers he was holding up I could make out his arm. So at least I didn't lose my eye. I would have to heal and be evaluated for a second surgery to restore my vision, if possible. But he cleared me to go home with a whole regime of treatment to do.

I got better as the day progressed but before I could leave the hospital I had to be cleared by several doctors. A Cardiologist did an ultrasound of my heart to see of there was any damage from being in AFib for so long. He didn't see any but told me to get an EKG with my primary within a week. He cleared me to go home.

Then I had to see a Respiratory Therapist who had me do breathing treatment and said I would do 2-3 a day as long as I was in the hospital but he cleared me to go home and use my inhaler (I have asthma) whenever I had problems.

Then there was the Physical Therapist. Because I lost vision in one eye I lost depth perception and balance was an issue until my brain got use to my limited vision. After walking me around and seeing how I did she gave me the clear to go home but have someone help me stand up and do stairs for the next couple of days. She gave me the best news of all when she said I could get up and use the bathroom instead of a bedpan if someone would help me off the bed. I immediately asked to use the bathroom and then almost passed out sitting on the toilet.

Then the floor main doctor had to review everyone's notes and examine me and then I could finally go home. I think I was cleared to leave after 6pm.

I was out on disability for 2 months and had a lot of restrictions on me. I couldn't bend over at the waist. Couldn't lift anything over 5 pounds. Couldn't watch TV, Movies, Video games, computer, read, puzzles, cross stitch for more than 15 minutes at a time. I couldn't do any of that because it hurt to move my eyeball. The smaller the screen the easier it was so I watched a bunch of things on phone because my eye didn't have to move as much. I also wasn't suppose to get my heart rate up or over exert myself. And I couldn't drive.

I had to rely on my friend to go pick up the groceries and do a lot of stuff for me. He wasn't happy about it. He was happy that I couldn't drive so that meant he could use the car whenever he wanted and he took advantage of that. The first time I went back to work after the accident was Jan 2019. On the way home I picked up the groceries and as we were bringing them in the house I noticed a big boo boo. The passenger real hubcap was ripped in two with only half of it there and a chunk of the framing around the wheel and back door smashed in. He thought something had happened to me and started to ask if I was okay. It wasn't me. I was already freaked out about driving that if that had happened when I had the car I would have been a sobbing mess and never drove again. When I explained to him that I parked in an underground parking garage next to a pillar on that side (took me a 3 point turn to just get into the space because I couldn't judge distances) and there was enough space between my car and the pillar to park a motorcycle because they allow extra room on the sides of the pillars (which is why I parked there) and that the only other place I drove as to park and pick up the groceries so it couldn't have been me. Once he was confronted with the evidence and I told him that it could only have been done when he had the car he immediately shut up and wouldn't say anything about it again.

Although he didn't have a job and couldn't pay money to live here he was suppose to do chores around the house to help out instead. That had been slowly not happening for a while but came to a head while I was home on disability The weeds in the front yard were starting to look like a jungle and I asked him to pull them because I didn't want to get another letter from the city about violating an ordinance like before. He said if I didn't like the weeds then I could get off my fat ass and pull them myself. Then he went on to list all the other things I could around my house instead of just sit there on the couch all day. They were all the things that he agreed to do as "paying rent" and he knew that I couldn't do those things. He made me feel like a piece of sh*t.

But because I couldn't do anything for myself I need to take what help I could get. But then. . .
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Re: Pengwenn's Pirate Life

Postby pengwenn » Thu Oct 15, 2020 4:44 pm

I got use to the new normal of not seeing anything on my left side. I hated driving and I lost it when my boss sent me a care package with an eye patch in in. Later that was the best thing anyone every gave me. It helped me drive better as strong as that sounds. So that's were the "pirate life" comes in.

I've been sad and mildly depressed before but it was always something I got over quickly. This was nothing like that. I was full down in the bottom of a well that only got deeper the more I tried to get out. It was hard and my friend's constant verbal abuse (which was getting worse) wasn't helping. Then on April 29th 2019, 7 months to the day of the accident, I had another surgery.

I had to get a new corneal transplant and they had to put a special kind of lens in my eye and stitch it to the inside of my eye because the pocket that it would normally sit in was gone. This time I was out on disability for 1 month and had a headache almost the whole time as my brain had to once again change how it saw things.

So by June of 2019 I told my friend I was going to give him 1 more year to find a job, get a car and move out. That made things almost unbearable for a year but I was sticking to my guns. Which was why I hired a lawyer to cover my ass and now we're back to the beginning.

Like I said I've never felt happier or more free than when he was finally left and I got over the shock of all that happened up to that point. That was 9 years of my life that I wasted but I wasn't going to waste anymore. Everything was fine until the first part of this month when I was hurt with punch to the gut. The weird thing is that it has nothing to do with me but a person I care deeply about and so I took it personally. Because it's their story I'm not going to say anything about it here.

Ever since then I haven't been able to eat and I've lost weight and everything seems duller and dead from what it was the day before everything went down. I can feel the strength flow out of me. The depression is coming back and everything I use to love seems mundane and not worth the effort. That's why I'm back here. I know that sounds weird but I need to find my passion in life again and I remember when writing filled me with a lot of passion and life and excitement.

So I've come back. Not to the place where it all began (my first memories of the love or writing are from junior high) but I've come back to the place that encouraged me and gave me peace when everyone else said writing was a dumb waste of time and I wouldn't have anything useful to add to the craft. For me this place is like a second home. And it feels good to be back . . . and just about as lonely as my real house feels in quarantine. But don't worry I'll try to dust things off if you want to come by for a visit. Feel free to stay for awhile.
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