Scotties Toy Box

May 14, 2017

Hugs and a little of what they mean to me

Filed under: My Life and Rants — Tags: , — Scottie @ 22:53

Cory was the last to ask about hugs to me, and he waited through the last long video just to see if I would say / use hugs.  I did.   This is for you Cory.  Hugs

https://corymelancon.com/

April 28, 2017

Why I have not been on blogs, and not answered emails. Medical stuff.

Filed under: Health, Love, My Life and Rants — Tags: , , — Scottie @ 13:32

This got long.  34 minutes of my voice.   So place consider this to be tortured and several humanitarian groups have formed to help those who have listened to the whole thing.  🙂  I am not whining about anything in the video, just explaining.    IF you force yourself to occasionally glance at the screen you see my normal smile and happy demeanor.   The reason it got long was the confusion I get into with my pain medications and the changing blood sugar.  So enjoy and try to not stuff too much into your ears to block the sound.   Hugs

April 12, 2017

It gets messed up doesn’t it.

Filed under: Health, My Life and Rants — Tags: , — Scottie @ 13:35

I have been warned for a while now that I was running out of options on my diabetes.   The oral meds were not working.  As I have to have surgery very soon, they have to get my sugar down and under control.  My primary is not really the greatest and I have had to lean on her a bit to get things accomplished.  So Monday I had a visit with my pain care provider and got my shots.   I only got ten shots this time because even though we went lower I asked for her to start lower rather than just below the shoulder blades.  The pain care ANRP is the best.  Then Tuesday I saw my primary care.  She is a PAC.  I don’t hold that against her, she is just not really consistent at her job.   In fact I asked her if I should go to a specialist for my diabetes management, and she got a little offended.  Well the thing is I was put on injection insulin.   Now that doesn’t bother me, I have given shots, I don’t mind shots, I get a lot of them already anyway, and so giving myself a shot is not a problem.   I don’t care for the new way they do it, these pens injection devices as I have twice not gotten my full dose.  I prefer the old way of drawing it up out of a vial and such.  Well she put me on this super new pen injection insulin which has both the insulin and some other drug in it.   It is like super new, the rep is really hitting the doctors to prescribe it even though the pharmacies don’t stock it and insurance doesn’t cover it.  Which is what happened to me.  She gave me a sample to use while she sent the prescription into the pharmacy.

The pharmacy called me this morning and flat out said no way.  OK I have had that happen on several meds.  Here is where it gets to be a problem.  Most doctors offices work closely with the pharmacies, especially the one I use as it is the largest health care hospital system in the county and they use the huge pharmacy to provide all the employees and families durg needs.  It is really huge.  so like if your prescription has run out the pharmacy will call the doctor’s office for a new script for you.  Or in this case they would call the doctor’s office and say they won’t cover that script and here are the options.   This all makes it much easier for the patient.  But the primary care I have ( until I can change it ) hates the pharmacy to call them, and has actually told them not to call and often refuses to take the calls.  I have complained about it but got nowhere.

So this morning the nice lady at the pharmacy called , explained everything to me, how they wouldn’t cover it, how they would cover my insulin lantus but my copay would be $50 for three months for that and $50 for three months for something else, on top of the $50 I pay for my blood pressure meds, and some other drugs that cost me less amounts.  Not complaining because while that is tight for me, it is doable and a lot of people don’t have the insurance I do and their copays are a lot more.  I agreed to the $100 for three months added payment.  Then she said she would try to work it out with the doctors office and explained the problem.  So I am waiting for a call to be told what medications to take and how to get them.  Plus am I staying with a pen system or the old ( better I think ) system of vial and syringe.   So the thing I really need to do is get the hip surgery as soon as I can.  I am to see a different orthopedic surgeon because the first one I had such a dislike for.   My pain care giver says the one is much more suited for me and so I think it will work out.   Get that done and it is one less problem and a lot less pain.  I won’t need the wheelchair and I won’t need a new scooter.

Speaking of scooters I just found out that it takes a filled out 12 page form that takes about 2 hours to complete.  Most doctors offices won’t do it.   So I would be out of luck as they say if I needed it anyway.  Be well and happy.   Hugs

 

April 3, 2017

Only 7 years ago

Filed under: History, My Life and Rants, Pictures — Tags: , — Scottie @ 21:56

Strange how we change.  This picture was taken of me in the breakroom having my lunch at the hospital I worked at.  I worked in the Surgical ICU.  This was 6 or 7 years ago.  It was already wearing on me.  I looked so different than today, at least in my eyes.   I don’t see the smile I normally wear so my body could already have started to fail.   I see in this I had my old cell phone, it was a new model at the time with a flip out keyboard.   The thing for texting, which I love to do.  However I think a year or so after I started working we switched to IPhones.  So my first IPhone was 4.  SO it came out in July of 2010.  I started work in April 2010.  Ron could tell me when it was taken, but I can’t.   What do you think compared to the way I look now?  Hugs

Scottie at work

 

Time again for new photo

Filed under: My Life and Rants, Pictures — Tags: , — Scottie @ 12:32

Hello, Hello All.   Excuse the typos please, I will proof read but for some reason known only to those mythical creatures called dragons, my neuropathy and tremors are worse than ever today.   Not a good combination when going back to shaving I must add.   However I think I did rather good, as long as I don’t break my arm patting myself on the back.   So I got my first get up coffee, I would call it morning coffee but for me morning came at the ungodly hour of 11:30 AM, and took some pictures of me at my desk with the new do.   As always when I change the look I change the gravatar on everything ( I have about six spots I have to remember to change it. )  As I never see myself as you guys do, I love to have you tell me which you think looks the best.  I have learned how to tell which one you like when you comment using that enlarged photo to do it.  Took awhile for me to learn that , I was like can you tell me which one from the top left ….Oh well, you can teach an old human new tricks but the dog learns faster.  🙂  So please let me know.  Hugs

March 23, 2017

Woke up yelling.

Filed under: Dealing With Abuse, My Life and Rants — Tags: , , — Scottie @ 08:21

This morning I woke Ron up shouting, because I was having a nightmare about one of my abusers and my abuse.  I was dreaming of the man who adopted me.  HE was in my room putting everything in trash bags.  I did not have much but what I had was important to me.  I had very little, and what I had was old, broken, or hand me down stuff.  If I ever had anything nice it was taken from me.  In my dream I was not a child anymore but an adult.  The man who adopted me told me I was not going to have anything, he was not going to allow me to have anything, he was going to take it all.  I was ordered to take the bags of my stuff out to the trash.  I took the first bag out, then I went back in.  I then did something I never could have done as a kid.  I told him no, I won’t take my stuff to the trash.   Remember in my dream I was not a scared child afraid of what might happen.   I was an adult version of me.  I stood up to him.  I told him no I would not do it.  Then in my dream he gave me orders of what I was to do in the morning.  I told him no, I wouldn’t do it.  He threatened me as he has always done.  Only this time I did not cower.  This is where I shouted out loud and woke both myself and Ron up.   I shouted “Understand this, I won’t do it, I won’t do it”.  I realized I was awake and it had been a dream, and of course I had woken ron.  Ron was talking to me telling me it was OK, I was safe, he was with me.   I told him about the dream and I got up, he went back to sleep.   So maybe this is a good sign.  I am sticking up for myself in my dreams.  I am not letting it happen, not as afraid as I had been as a child.  Only time will tell.  Of course the downside is I am upset this morning.  The good thing is I can get to everyone’s blogs early as I did not get much done yesterday.  Be well and happy.  Hugs 

March 2, 2017

I recognize that furious, screaming child that lives inside Milo Yiannopoulos – The Globe and Mail

Filed under: Dealing With Abuse, Harm, History, My Life and Rants, Sex — Tags: , , — Scottie @ 12:38

***This post is about sexual abuse, sexual situations, and a bit about how sexual abuse messed up my own understanding of sex.  If those topics bother you please stop reading now and go to a blog more pleasing to you with my thanks for stopping by.  Oh it also got very long.  Hugs ***

I was going to write this post yesterday but I kept putting it off because I guess I just did not want to deal with it, with my own feelings.  I have been on edge lately caught between needing to voice some of the things from my past, and feeling a huge need to just hide that it happened, that it happened to me.   A grand lady sent me a link to a great video.  I loved the video.  But because I am raw right now on this subject what I normally hide burst out of me.   I sent her an email where I basically divulged some things I had not voice before.   At least not sober.   🙂  She being a grand lady and a great friend wrote me back saying we should talk.  I panicked.  I wrote her I could barely write about it and no way I could verbally talk about it, I begged her to let it drop.  I hid again.  She understood but I knew she felt if I did not address it I would blow a gasket.  I agree with that, I need a safety valve to slowly release the parts I can.   Here is some thoughts I have, my letting it out safely if such a thing is possible.  

The article below talks about things I know because I have experienced it.     I do not in anyway give Milo a pass, I do not agree with the direction he went, I oppose his hateful nasty ways of trying to find worth and fame.  However I did go through the stages the author mentioned.   Let me start again as my mind went off to protect itself and I had to wrestle it back here.  

I was sexually abused.   I had a working knowledge of sex, the ways of it and the male body.   I did not have any clue about the emotional aspect of sex.  What emotions I associated with it were all wrong.  When kids in school talked in hushed tones about getting a blow job, laughed at dick jokes, and talked about boning a girl, I was confused and felt left out.  It was not because I was gay, that had its own problems.  See I knew about penises, I knew what sucking a cock was because I was doing it, I was the girl getting the cock and trust me it was not like the boys talked.   I was not able to join in on these boyhood dreams and fantasies.   I was mentally not able to process the disconnect between their words and my reality.  Sex for me was not pleasant and dream like, it was not something that made one happy and fulfilled.   It was power, authority, it was control over another, over me.  As I got older my body responded and in truth I felt this was normal sex.  I grew older and angry.  In my teens I desperately wanted what everyone around me talked about, what movies and books hinted at, but I was clueless and did not believe it existed.  

I remember being about 14 or 15 and wanting sex with my history teacher so bad.  I knew what guys wanted from me, to show they owned me, they could do what they wanted to me, that they could satisfy themselves and throw me away.  But remember I had no warm human contact.  I craved it, attention from a man who seemed so kind to me.  Surely if I came to him willingly he wouldn’t hurt me much right?  So I put myself out there for him.  I don’t know what he thought of the things I hinted.  I won’t describe the things I did , they are bad enough to remember and worse to share.  After a couple weeks he asked me to stay after school.   He would take me home.  I thought this was it, I was going feel what the boys all talked about.   But the teacher was a grand man, an honest man.  He figured out I was abused ( I think many knew ) and wanted to help me.  He tried to talk to me in the classroom but I couldn’t understand what he wanted, why was he not ordering me to pull my pants down, why was he not saying the angry words I normally heard if I was talked to at all during it.   He then figured I would talk if he took me home in his car.   In the car I waited for the order to “make him happy” but he did only talked and talked and talk.  My mind drifted off.  Soon we were at my home.  The only thing I learned was it was true that no one wanted me, I was not worth anything, I was below humans and not even a teacher had a use for me.  

Fast forward to me in the Navy stationed in San Diego.  I was 18.   I was fit and trim, I was cute even though I did not know it.  I did not make friends, I stayed to myself, I couldn’t connect to others.  The ways they acted and the things they wanted I could not understand.  Understand I was so very horny, I carved sex.  I wanted so much to have something, I just did not know what it was or how to get it.   I hated the sex I knew , but my body wanted the feeling of sex, to mate, so badly it was driving me mad.   So I explored the city, something I had never seen having grown up in a town with more cattle than people.  I had no fear, I was clueless.   I ran and jogged and looked at it all.   One early evening I had just ran the length of Broadway because running felt good to me, and was at a bench outside a bank stretching when a young guy came up to me.  He had been watching me but I did not know that then.  To me he was an adult and so I responded to him as an authority.  He really was just barely 25 and unsure, but I was trained by both my childhood and the military to submit to those older than me.  What was about to happen was my first consensual adult sexual experience and it will show how screwed up I was.   He asked me to his apartment.  I followed him.  I still had no clue what he was really doing.  He was a young cute gay guy with a new job as an architect.   He thought I was a coy young gay kid who knew what I was doing and what was happening.  In truth I was clueless.  He had asked me to go with him and I was.   When we got to his place he started to do all the things people trying to hook up do.  It went over my head.  When he kissed me I froze.  When he touched me I understood what I was to do.  I peeled out of my clothes and my body went to auto pilot and my mind took a vacation.  The guy must have thought he went to gay heaven.   He had found a young cute compliant guy to do what he wanted without asking for anything.  After a couple weeks we had a pattern.  I would come over , get naked, he would have sex with me, I would perform for him as he wished.  He would then shower, go out to the clubs and party, come back to his apartment and have me.  He told me after we broke up he couldn’t believe how lucky he was, I never complained, I just waited for him.  He could do as he wished.  He thought he had it all.  I thought I loved him.  He was basically my first.  When he touched me it was not to hurt, he never hit me, he never was angry , he never yelled at me.  He was kind, gentle, he made sure it did not hurt, but felt good.  There was only one thing he wanted and I couldn’t give it because I did not understand.  He wanted to reciprocate for me what I did for him.  When he would try I would draw away.  I was not trained for that.  I had been taught this was for something I did for others.  I was not to have the pleasure they did.  It had been beaten in me so I resisted him on that.  After about a month of this, one weekend at his place he had enough and confronted me about it.  I had no way to answer.  He tried to make it happen and when I pulled away and tried to roll over he pushed me down and did what I thought I was to do to him.  Sorry trying to not be graphic.  It did not go the way he thought it would.  I simply had never had those things done to me, I had no idea what to do or how to react.  I was scared, had flash backs because he had used force for the first time, I expected pain next and so did not respond the way he wanted or thought I should.   He had only wanted to give me pleasure and instead he realized it went badly wrong, but he did not know why.  Instead of the happy willing kid I had been I turned into a silent zombi who did not move or respond.  He finished the act and for the first time there was no joy in it for either of us.  My fear caused us to break up.  He had seemed so great in my mind, I was desperate for him, but now my body was scared.  If he had know, if he had taken more time.  He was young, it was not his fault.  

I left the Navy and entered the Army.  I watched others have the relationships and joy I wanted, some of them good and some of them bad as life normally is.  I became the boyfriend of my sargent, again willing to please and he was willing to take.  He was the boss, was subservient.  In the military it was not strange because of the rank difference between us.  I won’t go into details of those years. I came home with no more understanding of love and relationships than I had before.  

I became a civilian, and I got a good boring job.  I bought a home, and a new truck.  I stayed alone.  I never went out.  I was angry , oh so angry.  It was not worth living.  I was in dark places in my mind.  The only company I had was the memories I hated so.  The only people I talked to not at work were the 70 year old lady across the street I took for groceries and the people who had homes around mine.  I greeted them in passing.  A family moved in next door and they tried hard to start a friendly relationship with me.  I had stopped caring about myself, my needs.  I came home from work, drank until I passed out, storming to myself all the time,  trying to sleep without the nightmares, and going back to work.   In truth I was starting to think it was not worth living, life was just pain.  

Then before I could work out how to die, my neighbors decided I was going out to a gay club that had opened in the last year or so.  I had worked a shut down, so I was flush with money and vacation time.  My work forced me to take a month vacation as I had so much built up.   I went out just to shut up the neighbors.  I figured I would go out, sneak back in an hour or so and it would be over.   I went to the gay bar.  An old gay guy hit on me, I said no.  A sleazy man who seemed like a used car salesman tried to hit on me, I got up and went down stairs of the bar.  That was more a sitting area with big arm chairs, a couple pool tables, and a u shaped bar.   I sat as far away from everyone as I could.  I was watching an awesome blonde guy behind the bar.  He was all I could focus on, he filled me with such feelings.  The sleazy guy came over and I asked him to leave me alone.  He saw where I was focused and went to the bar to tell the bartender.  The bartender had been watching me also.  He came over and asked me to stay till closing and to not leave.  I agreed.  After the bar closed down the bartender and I spent hours talking at the bottom bar.  Then he took me to his place.  I was stunned.  This person seemed to know what I felt, what I needed.  My world was changing and I did not even know it.  The person behind the bar, the bartender was Ron.   

Well I am wrung out.  This is long and it drained me to write it, to remember it, to experience it again.  But it also felt good.  It feels like a boil that just got lanced.  It hurt bad before, it still hurts , but the pressure of it is less.  I know people will want to respond and even ask questions.  That is OK, I am ready for it I think.  I think in some ways it would be helpful.  I can answer at my own pace and do what I need to protect myself, which I can’t do verbally.  If you have read this far, you are a kind generous person.   Thank you.   Hugs

 

The professional bigot’s actions and speech cannot be condoned, but it’s possible to understand where it comes from

Source: I recognize that furious, screaming child that lives inside Milo Yiannopoulos – The Globe and Mail

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