Resting in a hospital? Yeah. Right.

So, yesterday I was informed that I would start breathing treatments. What I didn’t realize was that even if I was asleep, they would wake me every 4 hours to give them. On top of the hourly checking on me, blood works, medications and what-not. I am going to be so incredibly exhausted by the end of tomorrow that no matter where I am I will likely just fall over and pass out. I don’t know if I will be going home or not tomorrow, or what the real plan is. It seems like a lot hinges on getting me a dialysis clinic and the rest hinges on the fact that they suddenly took my other symptoms seriously instead of blindsiding themselves or lumping them all together.

Right now, it’s 5:54am, and the only reason I’m awake is because I had -just- fallen asleep from the nurse checking on my 20 mins prior (and she insists on calling my name! SO even if I am asleep, I’m quickly awake) when the Respiratory therapist came in.  So I had my nebulizer, started falling asleep with it in my mouth kept waking myself up when I almost dropped it and then, when the therapist left, realized that he didn’t bother to reconnect my oxygen, so I had to call teh nurse back in. This makes for a recipe of serious wakefulness. I hope I can nap today

Day 3…Hospital.

I initially titles this day 2, however I had indeed forgotten that I slept the entire first day. So, Updates. It is indeed Sarcoidosis that is causing me to be so miserable, from lesions on my legs to a cough that will not let up in my lungs and dizziness on top of it all.  However, it seems that the disease has hit it’s most annoying stage. It’s the “let’s make everything within range swollen!” Stage. So, not only am I on o2, but I now have breathing treatments. Not only am I careful about walking, I’m back in a wheelchair because I could fall over at any moment. My legs are wrapped like any injured old man’s and my voice is weak because of the strength of my cough.    The one good thing that came out of all of this is that I may have a dialysis unit on board finally.  If that happens, then life has a predictable pattern again, and I am get all kinds of things done.

In the meantime, I have no phone at home, not even a cell so I can only hope that my man gets to the library roday and sees this post somewhere so that He knows what is going on.

 

10 Ways You’re Making Your Life Harder Than It Has To Be

I’ve been in a position a lot over the last few years that many of these have occurred. Working on myself in order to become a happier man.

What It’s Really Like To Be Chronically Ill

And He Learned

Rethink the Rant

When he noticed the naked little girl at the beach didn’t look quite like he did and asked why, they answered his questions in simple phrases painted in black and white, pink and blue, and tradition. And he learned that boys and girls were different.

When one of the neighbor kids painted his nails, they got angry. That wasn’t something boys did. And he learned that there were different rules for boys and girls, and that breaking those made people upset.

When he was handed down a pink bike from his cousin, they replaced it with a blue one, because they didn’t want him to be mocked for having a “girly” bike. And he learned that being girly was something to be mocked.

When he cried, they told him to be a man. And he learned that crying, and being not a man, was something less.

When he was being picked…

View original post 1,016 more words

Finding My Voice

   I know that I have not written in a while, mostly that is because I have been busy finding my voice.

   What do I mean by finding my voice? I mean finding that inner tune that I dance to, sing to and make love to. I mean finding myself and from where I speak in my mind and my heart. I mean opening my heart again after having it stepped on so much in the last few months.  I mean finding the Power inside me again, that firm spreading and upwelling of power that I feel on cool bright days and clear moonlit nights. I’ve felt it enough lately that I had to change my fetlife name to “awakeningtolight”

   As I have been taking the time to resettle into my home, I have come across many different realities. The drama that the neighbor has been causing over and over, watching that person poison those around him all under the guise of “Charity” and “Godliness”. The reality of having to take a part time job to fulfill our material needs. Of learning that for us, now is the time of The Hermit, in the mystical sense and the very real sense. For us right now we are pulling in and consolidating our own powers as family and partners, parents and secondly consolidating who we are in the external world and how that comes from our deepest internal and filtered through different films in order to make it possible to project into the day to day life.

   Especially as I am contemplating opening myself up again as a presenter to the Trans* and BDSM communities again as I was back in Pittsburgh, having looked at that part of myself carefully and deciding that it does indeed mesh with who I am working actively to become here in Denver.

   As I have mentioned in past posts, here in Denver, I can take the time to examine the different parts of myself and of my relationships and what I am looking for in connections with people and actively build and choose how I want it to be. Some of my first experiences were terrible (notice the mention of a poisonous neighbor) however, some of the more recent approaches have been fruitful.

   It may seem to some that this systematic building and choosing may seem counter productive to spontaneous connections that might be available, but I have very much not closed myself off to that possibility I am just entering situations where they might occur a little more slowly than I might have otherwise.

So, in finding my voice, I believe that I will be writing more, and I am considering beginning a podcast for Trans*men. Many things are on the horizon, and I am looking forward to sharing them with you.

WordPress Tags: Voice,Power,nights,realities,drama,neighbor,person,guise,Hermit,parents,life,presenter,Trans,BDSM,Pittsburgh,Denver,relationships,Some,situations,Many,horizon

Mommy/Daddy? What do kids call their Trans* parent?

   People always ask me what do your kids call you? at the ages of 4 and 5, my children’s ability to understand gender issues like this is limited. Mind you, I didn’t say non-existent. At this time, I let me kids call me whatever they feel like. Both kids having autism, they do experience gender blindness, meaning that despite clear physical cues to ones gender, they just don’t notice, so even regular people in their lives are sometimes he/she depending on the kids mood and often are called both in the same conversation. So it’s no surprise when I report that my kids call me alternately Mommy or Daddy on any given day.

   When they get older, I will explain things to them as time goes on. Recently, my eldest asked me why I have hair on my chin, (my facial hair is just coming in) and I responded “that’s my beard, you will have one when you get older too” and that was that. I see no need to not answer these questions when they come up honestly and to the point. Someday more difficult questions will arise, I’m sure and I hope that I am able to answer them just as simply as I did that one.

Home sweet home!

Finally we are on the other side of the homeless ringer of Denver. It’s been a long two months while we went from shelter to motel then back to shelter and at last into a rental of our own. I learned many lessons along the way, the least of them being how to process my own anger and jadedness over the situation and the circumstances that put us in it.

While we were in the system, I was put in the rough position of needing to pretend I’m not Trans* since I do not yet have a doctor and I needed to get a new id and they put that damned “F” on it before I noticed. Hearing my birth name used so often has been traumatic and painful for me, but I have managed to cope thus far.

More to come later, but now….rest.

Blog Strangeness

For some reason a bunch of recent posts are not showing. I am working to figure out why

How I hate it when people make asumptions

I have long disliked social media in general, seeing as how it takes the meat out of interaction as well as most of the unspoken “tone”. This past week has perhaps been one of the most intense weeks highlighting that. From Professionals making assumptions about my lifestyle instead of asking questions, to people on social media doing the same and then hiding behind “unfriending” me while in the same breath calling me a friend. I am seriously considering getting rid of my facebook entirely, and only opening a community account for my various networking needs business-wise.
No being “unfriended” does not hurt me in any way, in fact I find it the equivalent of stomping your feet and holding your breath until you get your way. Just because someone ranted about something, does not mean that you have the whole or even most of the picture of what they are ranting on. since social media, communication has become a lost art, and it’s only getting further and further away from us.