21 April, 2016

Clusters and others and the menopausal migraineur meets the puzzled goddess

 Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...
Fugue state is an old term for that time in the migraine cycle that you are hyper aware that a migraine will happen, expect it, dread it if you want the truth, but can't look away any more than you can at a train wreck.

Well....that's if you're a migraineur who gets "classic" migraine as I used to. Before 30 and pregnancy, estrogen, progesterone, and now testosterone all have influenced various conditions and turned classic to cluster. (I've been wondering tongue in cheek for the last twenty two years if this wasn't just a cluster f@ck of a diagnosis on people's lives. And knew it was my black humor and early bent toward the military coming through.)

I've been doing a great deal more research myself lately since large studies are finally being done, and I'm becoming involved in chronic pain advocacy, because, this is my life. There isn't any changing it now. My new normal has been here and holding out dreams for magic pills is just getting in the way. So all health topics will pretty much be moving to my new blog The Menopausal Migraineur .

And yes, I do look like a vampire in the middle of a bad attack. LOL just HAD to prove it. This is even after a sunburn and hives.

from the puzzled goddess going to do her relaxation exercises. . .

17 April, 2016

I don't have any close friends anymore, but I somehow always have conversation...

Some goddesses are puzzled by this...like me...I meet the most interesting people on the transit system, but then, I find people fascinating. I almost feel like I'm having too much fun when I commute, that it should be more of a hardship, like for my early twenties son.

 I feel so sorry for him. He invariably gets these half, (or totally) potted older women who stink to high heaven of booze, body odor, cigarettes and gods know what else that INSIST on sitting in seats next to him. And then edge closer and closer pushing their elbows and more of their bodies into him as the ride goes on. Anyone who knows him knows he's REALLY fastidious about his personal appearance and cleanliness, and then he gets the same migraines from toxic volatile chemicals as I do...and having someone shove it constantly under your nose...UcK!

But he and his sister are probably right that if he said something, being a white male in his 20's, a member of the "privileged class," that a whole scene would be started, and he would NOT come out of it well. I don't really understand why it should be so different. Though I do know it will.

 I can watch it play out in my head like one of those TV shows about moral choices and watch the strangers react badly to him when he is the wronged party.

It's taking liberalism and Political Correctness too far. Don't Get ME WRONG!
And that is where that pendulum is starting to swing, both ways--- liberal and conservative, both are violating common sense and common decency, compassion and empathy for their fellow human beings.

I didn't mean to start this to lecture, just to update on how many interesting conversations I can have on the transit system going to appointments now that I had to get rid of my car.

A good friend of mine from college, Rory A. Miller, who writes the Chiron Training blog, as well as many excellent books on the subjects of martial arts and responding to violence, used to tell stories about riding the Trimet buses over school breaks and living homeless on Portland streets, and he'd make all of us see the humor in the situations that really weren't that humorous at all. But he has a special way of looking at things. I remember his slightly warped view of life as I look at my new world through my cloudy-mist eyes and talk to the people in it.

I met an older black woman who was so stylish she put me to instant shame. The turban was a kicken' 1930's look and the raccoon long coat draped over her shoulders set off her black pantsuit and leather alligator shoes. It all looked vintage. But vintage with style and flair. When I complemented her outfit we hit it off immediately, and we got to talking about our lives and her loves and her man that was still coming around looking for, "somethin', somethin'. You know how those men are. He cheated on me, but it may be worth it just to sample it again before I kick it out. Opportunities don't come by so often anymore at our age." We laughed so long before she got off the streetcar... We were like young girls being naughty in the corner and embarrassing the poor boy sitting across the aisle. I then, of course, being totally oblivious to his blushes got off at my stop 5 minutes later with my walker and a small chuckle. Bet he never makes the mistake of thinking old ladies don't giggle over old men. LOL

And then there was the young man in his late twenties or thirties buried in a book talking about sailing around the world. He thought it would be amazing to build a boat and do it. I could see the spark in his eyes. Maybe a Thor Heyerdaul, who knows?

There were the Water Engineers from England, the World Championship for track and field? I believe, where I was at the correct time to meet the families of the Australians, Germans, and some of the English, and the young Spanish émigré who thought Portland was the most accepting place she had ever lived though she laughed and said she would remember my description of being, "self consciously weird." That it fit quite a few of the Portlander's she had met...others just reveled in their weirdness. lol

I thought I would read many more books while riding transit, and I do keep a book or two with me. But far and above more interesting are the people and their stories and their lives.

....reflections of a puzzled goddess...