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Mar. 26th, 2009 01:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
commotiocordisOK, so this is going to be a health related LJ update. I’m doing on this microphone that I found in my kitchen and using Vista’s speech recognition software, which is actually working pretty well, I think. Or was, until I just had to stop for 5 minutes and correct all the mistakes they had made. Mostly punctuation things, because I’m not used to having to say the punctuation out loud as I speak. And I tend use a lot of it. Which makes the speech rather awkward.
Anyway, went to the doctor yesterday and turns out all my face stuff is due to the rosacea. The sensitivities, the redness, the allergy to benzoyl peroxide, all of it is straight out of the Wikipedia article. Point of interest, hard to snack and dictate. I’m also using a really shitty microphone, which doesn’t help matters.
Went straight from the doctor to get my blood tested, because she is checking my thyroid like I wanted. Didn’t give me the Ritalin refill yet but I’m going to go back probably Friday once the results get in and get that plus something for the rosacea (which is worse than my mother’s, now that I attribute all these other symptoms to it correctly, which is uber not fair). I’ve seen some adverts for some new stuff lately too, so I’ll have to start looking closer at the research for this stuff.
The crook of my arm is all nastified now, though, with a big giant puncture wound surrounded by a bruise. Blech. I was thinking the entire time about how good the lady was at sticking me—it barely hurt at all. And then she took it out and was careless because she was done and that was fail, because she did it at sort of an angle and it pulled out funny and hurt and then bled.
I LOL at how I thought this would be somehow easier or faster. This is not the case. Switching back to actual typing now, because even if it was incredibly accurate, I think I type faster than I talk.
Dad got the call yesterday saying that he could finally get his insulin pump, naturally, right after he got on some new medicine that cut his insulin by 2/3. So now he’s not sure if he wants it, because it’s going to be like $900 plus $600 every three months in cartridges because the insurance refuses to cover it, and this new testosterone patch stuff at the lower dose he was on before (he just upped it, since the results rocked so hard the first time) cut him from about 100 units to a few days ago’s 37. His doctor wants him to go up even more, because of those kickass results and all the new research tying testosterone to diabetes—you’d think that the diabetes would wonkify his testosterone, but you don’t really think about the testosterone wonkifying his diabetes. Cool. Plus, since he’s been on it I’ve noticed. . . idk, he’s better. In general, mood wise. Not as cranky. He notices it too—he doesn’t need naps as much and such things. I like it.
On a completely unrelated note? I really want to write “Better Off Ted” crack!fic where Veronica and Linda mud-wrestle except in coffee creamer, for some reason. Mostly because the first episode really made me want to slash those two and, you know, the creamer thing.
Anyway, went to the doctor yesterday and turns out all my face stuff is due to the rosacea. The sensitivities, the redness, the allergy to benzoyl peroxide, all of it is straight out of the Wikipedia article. Point of interest, hard to snack and dictate. I’m also using a really shitty microphone, which doesn’t help matters.
Went straight from the doctor to get my blood tested, because she is checking my thyroid like I wanted. Didn’t give me the Ritalin refill yet but I’m going to go back probably Friday once the results get in and get that plus something for the rosacea (which is worse than my mother’s, now that I attribute all these other symptoms to it correctly, which is uber not fair). I’ve seen some adverts for some new stuff lately too, so I’ll have to start looking closer at the research for this stuff.
The crook of my arm is all nastified now, though, with a big giant puncture wound surrounded by a bruise. Blech. I was thinking the entire time about how good the lady was at sticking me—it barely hurt at all. And then she took it out and was careless because she was done and that was fail, because she did it at sort of an angle and it pulled out funny and hurt and then bled.
I LOL at how I thought this would be somehow easier or faster. This is not the case. Switching back to actual typing now, because even if it was incredibly accurate, I think I type faster than I talk.
Dad got the call yesterday saying that he could finally get his insulin pump, naturally, right after he got on some new medicine that cut his insulin by 2/3. So now he’s not sure if he wants it, because it’s going to be like $900 plus $600 every three months in cartridges because the insurance refuses to cover it, and this new testosterone patch stuff at the lower dose he was on before (he just upped it, since the results rocked so hard the first time) cut him from about 100 units to a few days ago’s 37. His doctor wants him to go up even more, because of those kickass results and all the new research tying testosterone to diabetes—you’d think that the diabetes would wonkify his testosterone, but you don’t really think about the testosterone wonkifying his diabetes. Cool. Plus, since he’s been on it I’ve noticed. . . idk, he’s better. In general, mood wise. Not as cranky. He notices it too—he doesn’t need naps as much and such things. I like it.
On a completely unrelated note? I really want to write “Better Off Ted” crack!fic where Veronica and Linda mud-wrestle except in coffee creamer, for some reason. Mostly because the first episode really made me want to slash those two and, you know, the creamer thing.
