The story so far…

November 18, 2010 | Filed Under The Heartless Bitch Way | No Comments

So here’s where I am at the moment. I’ve been cycling on and off the topamax, prompted by despair at my continuing seizures and my stubborn determination to try to manage them drug free. Neither is a great solution. I’m getting a seizure dog in the spring — she won’t stop the seizures, but she’ll warn me about 20 minutes prior so at least I’ll be able to go to a relatively safe environment and seize there. She’s also trained to leap on top of me during the actual seizure so I won’t be so badly injured. I had one at work yesterday and woke to a circle of spectators (special? Words fail me). My neurologist has been patiently recommending a procedure called a corpus callosotomy — the severing of the link between the hemispheres of my brain and so far I’ve been vehemently resisting.

Frankly, the idea scares the hell out of me but I’m at the point where my seizures have become “intractable” and this is the last stage of treatment. My seizures have proved to be resistant to all the meds, my quality of life has tanked and every day, I’m aware that I’ve got a time bomb in my head and very well aware that my next seizure could be fatal.

I can’t tell you how much I resent this. I’m afraid to make this choice. Neurosurgery is an inexact science — what they don’t know far outweighs the knowledge that they do have and even the doctor will only commit to a prognosis of “this SHOULD help”. “Should”? You want to cut my brain in half and all you can promise me is that maybe it will work?

I don’t know how I feel about the surgery, girls. I know I can’t go on like this though.

The thing is, I’m a coward. I’m not brave about this shit at all. I feel like I’m being backed into a corner and I’m panicking.

I’m going to try to hang on and wait for the dog (I’ve named her Q.C.) and see how I do with her. That’s still about 4 months away though and it’s quite possible that events may overtake me.

But we’ll see. We’ll see.

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Be gentle…it’s my first time…

November 9, 2010 | Filed Under The Heartless Bitch Way | No Comments

Greetings ladies.  Natalie suggested that I begin posting here.  It’s far more time effective, as we’re both busier than hell and the site is in danger of going dormant.

And today, something absolutely horrifying happened to me.

Let me set the stage.

Before I left for work this morning, I glanced in the mirror — with some satisfaction, I must say.  I was wearing an Armani suit (black, of course), some killer black stilettos and a hip length figure hugging turtleneck.  Yow!  I look HOT.   All during my day, my  ego got stroked with compliments — until I had to go to police headquarters to see a 38 year old client in custody.

I strutted up to the desk sergeant, gave him my thousand watt smile and said “I understand you have Mr. X in your cells.  I’d like to see him please. ”  The officer, one constable Ryan, checked his computer.  He then looked me over and said the most appalling thing that any human being has ever said to me in my entire life.

“Who are you, his mother?”

HIS MOTHER?!?!  OMFG!!

“I’m his lawyer!”

“Oh.  Sorry.  Then down the stairs to the left and the cell sergeant will show you to an interview room.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to have a cadet escort me?  I’m not sure my decrepit legs will carry me that far.”

At this point, he looked pretty sheepish and appealed to the officer beside him (a guy I know quite well).  “Help me out here, brother”, hissed P.C. Ryan.   “No way, dude.  You’re on your own.”

My client interview completed, I left the station.  But my ego was in shreds.  Naturally, I saw the humour in the situation and I gave the poor cop a hard enough time that I know he felt bad about it.  But I certainly wasn’t about to leave it at that, especially since the cop was older than me.  So when I got back to the office, I sat down and wrote him a letter on my letterhead.  It read:

“Dear Officer Ryan:  Thank you very much for the kindness you showed me when I attended at police headquarters earlier today.  It is so refreshing to meet a youngster who has such respect for the elderly.  I wanted to express my gratitude in person but I wasn’t sure if my hip replacement would survive the arduous journey from the courthouse.  I would have written this by hand but my arthritis has been acting up and I never did get the hang of these new fangled computer whatsits that you whippersnappers are so fond of.  I’m having my caregiver type this up for me and I hope you don’t think that’s rude of me.  I sure hope this reaches you before the Grim Reaper comes for me — which as you know, could be any minute now.  If we ever meet again, I’ll be sure to thank you in person although I’m not sure I’ll recognize you, my eyes not being what they once were (and assuming the Alzheimer’s isn’t playing me up).

Yours very truly,

etc etc.”

I’m never going to get over this.  I did laugh my ass off but God help this cop if I ever have him in my sights during cross examination.

Morrigan.

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A woman’s place is in….

November 9, 2010 | Filed Under Lifestyles of the Heartlessly Bitchy, Popculture, The Heartless Bitch Way | No Comments

the Hockey Hall of Fame!

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