I've been pretty busy the last couple of weeks, but I haven't blogged about any of it on account of my head pounding like a cheap American traveler on an overpriced Thai lady-boy who's watching the clock. My blood-clots seem to be mostly under control, but my headaches have come in waves of varying intensity, and often there are days I'm so uncomfortable I can't do anything but swallow a dose of painkillers and sleep. My kidney doc doesn't seem too terribly concerned with my head pain, but it drives me into fits. I need to start looking for a general practitionerer that'll help me with non-kidney issues, or else take more of my health into my own hands. I've already been starting to do that, pestering medically-inclined friends with questions aplenty...although they're wary to give me too much real advice (aka the whole 'this is not legal advice' disclaimer, but for medicine...nevermind that I trust their judgment more so than my own doctor at this point...they have an emotional investment in keeping me alive and healthy).
I haven't gamed any this weekend, turning down a spot as a player in Star Wars game and rescheduling a Pathfinder game I was supposed to run today. I'm not a big Star Wars fanatic but I hope the SW group doesn't disown me for canceling so much, I like hanging out with them. The Pathfinder game is supposed to be a grand finale, so I hope to have these headaches lassoed under control by then, I'd like to end that game on a good note (it's one of my yearly goals, after all).
I'm going to end up a 'Crazy Old Gamer Guy', the male equivalent of a Crazy Cat Lady. I welcome my fate, as swimming in dreamworlds keeps my mind off just how shitty my health is getting and keeps me from becoming suicidally depressed. The more time I spend at a keyboard arguing with myself what the proper pronunciation of 'Drizzt' is, the less time I spend imagining my flesh rotting clean off of my limbs as I watch in detached amusement. I've gotten hit on an unusual amount in the last couple of weeks, too, and that baffles me. I'm trying to make myself as unattractive as possible on purpose and it only half works. Chalk it up to passion, I guess, no matter how strange that passion is. I'm beginning to understand why serial killers get love letters. I'll bet Chris Chan even gets some play.
I went on an obscenely long car ride with Trent, who was on leave from the Navy for the holidays. Three days in a car is too much for my control issues to handle, and I thank him for being patient with me. Most of my friends in Louisville have not seen me display a tremendous amount of anxiety, because the normal triggers that affect them (like crowds) actually bring me joy instead. Being in a confined space for three days with no control over where I was going reminded me too much of being confined to a hospital bed, and I almost flipped out. I visited with Robert and Forbes, and watched movies and talked about 'how we used to game'. Used to? I gamed more last year in Louisville than any three years beforehand, just to keep my sanity. I was getting antsy watching movies. Later in the trip we met his niece and her gang, who were a fun bunch of kids. I played a Savage Worlds game, in between naps. I was a gunslinger and shot the bad guys hands off. It's not a bad little system. Before we went home, we visited Todd, who may be discharged from the Army soon on account of being hit by an explosive device in Afghanistan. Todd showed me his plans for an rpg table, of which I will steal shamelessly. I miss Todd. He's good people.
I went out to eat with my roommate, John, Julie, and Ace & Paula; at IHOP. The food is ass in a little hat, but I enjoyed the company, although once again I was in pain throughout most of it. I remember being confronted by Ace & Paula at the restaurant...they warned me 'never to do that again!', in relation to the blood clots. What I am supposed to do, yell at my blood clots? Give them a stern warning? Although I appreciate everyones concern, there's a part of me that gets a little annoyed by it. HEY BODY YOU BETTAH BEHAVE I'MA WARNIN' YOU ALL MY CONCERNED FRIENDS GUNNA GET MAD! Ace & Paula want me to run a Champions game, based off a game I ran in college almost ten years ago. I've started too many games last year, but I promised them at least a mini-series or something if I have time. I will create a super-powered blood clot, and they will fight it.
I went to Ray's 40th b-day party, driven there by my hot ginger lawyer Jaime. I was still on a cane at this point, and pulled up a chair at the microphone to sing Toby Keith's 'As Good As I Once Was'. I thought it was an appropriate song. Ravenhawk and I got accosted by some older ladies in the bar, although to be fair, they wanted him more 'cause he's a pretty man. On the ride to and from, I talked to Jaime about making a living will, even though it's not a pleasant thing to think about. I have to buckle down and do some research for that, and possibly make out a real will as well (even though I don't own jack). I expect those last few sentences to cause alarm, but will reassure everyone that I'm not dying, I'm just in bad shape...and if you've been hospitalized as much I as I have in the past couple of years, these things would be on your mind as well. I'm just tired of sugar-coating it. I'm also annoyed that I still don't have a good picture of me and Jaime. The one we took in the bar was so dark you could barely tell we are redheads, and have no souls.
I'm visiting a couple of pretty ladies this week, then have resolved to stay in and rest for a while so I don't run myself ragged. I'm about to finish two campaigns so that will free up some time, too. I need to get back to my yearly resolutions, and create more stuff. I want to get back to the sand-blasted plains of Athas with its exotic beasts and courtly intrigue...I want to know what Blarge and his crew will do with their starship after using the hull to kill Randal Skelos...I want to see what kind of tentacled monster Porphyria will summon from the depths of the ocean to scare the daylights out of the good folk of Eastern Saltrock Island...I want to see the last journey of the grizzled old man from a bar in Shakalar.
I haven't gamed any this weekend, turning down a spot as a player in Star Wars game and rescheduling a Pathfinder game I was supposed to run today. I'm not a big Star Wars fanatic but I hope the SW group doesn't disown me for canceling so much, I like hanging out with them. The Pathfinder game is supposed to be a grand finale, so I hope to have these headaches lassoed under control by then, I'd like to end that game on a good note (it's one of my yearly goals, after all).
I'm going to end up a 'Crazy Old Gamer Guy', the male equivalent of a Crazy Cat Lady. I welcome my fate, as swimming in dreamworlds keeps my mind off just how shitty my health is getting and keeps me from becoming suicidally depressed. The more time I spend at a keyboard arguing with myself what the proper pronunciation of 'Drizzt' is, the less time I spend imagining my flesh rotting clean off of my limbs as I watch in detached amusement. I've gotten hit on an unusual amount in the last couple of weeks, too, and that baffles me. I'm trying to make myself as unattractive as possible on purpose and it only half works. Chalk it up to passion, I guess, no matter how strange that passion is. I'm beginning to understand why serial killers get love letters. I'll bet Chris Chan even gets some play.
I went on an obscenely long car ride with Trent, who was on leave from the Navy for the holidays. Three days in a car is too much for my control issues to handle, and I thank him for being patient with me. Most of my friends in Louisville have not seen me display a tremendous amount of anxiety, because the normal triggers that affect them (like crowds) actually bring me joy instead. Being in a confined space for three days with no control over where I was going reminded me too much of being confined to a hospital bed, and I almost flipped out. I visited with Robert and Forbes, and watched movies and talked about 'how we used to game'. Used to? I gamed more last year in Louisville than any three years beforehand, just to keep my sanity. I was getting antsy watching movies. Later in the trip we met his niece and her gang, who were a fun bunch of kids. I played a Savage Worlds game, in between naps. I was a gunslinger and shot the bad guys hands off. It's not a bad little system. Before we went home, we visited Todd, who may be discharged from the Army soon on account of being hit by an explosive device in Afghanistan. Todd showed me his plans for an rpg table, of which I will steal shamelessly. I miss Todd. He's good people.
I went out to eat with my roommate, John, Julie, and Ace & Paula; at IHOP. The food is ass in a little hat, but I enjoyed the company, although once again I was in pain throughout most of it. I remember being confronted by Ace & Paula at the restaurant...they warned me 'never to do that again!', in relation to the blood clots. What I am supposed to do, yell at my blood clots? Give them a stern warning? Although I appreciate everyones concern, there's a part of me that gets a little annoyed by it. HEY BODY YOU BETTAH BEHAVE I'MA WARNIN' YOU ALL MY CONCERNED FRIENDS GUNNA GET MAD! Ace & Paula want me to run a Champions game, based off a game I ran in college almost ten years ago. I've started too many games last year, but I promised them at least a mini-series or something if I have time. I will create a super-powered blood clot, and they will fight it.
I went to Ray's 40th b-day party, driven there by my hot ginger lawyer Jaime. I was still on a cane at this point, and pulled up a chair at the microphone to sing Toby Keith's 'As Good As I Once Was'. I thought it was an appropriate song. Ravenhawk and I got accosted by some older ladies in the bar, although to be fair, they wanted him more 'cause he's a pretty man. On the ride to and from, I talked to Jaime about making a living will, even though it's not a pleasant thing to think about. I have to buckle down and do some research for that, and possibly make out a real will as well (even though I don't own jack). I expect those last few sentences to cause alarm, but will reassure everyone that I'm not dying, I'm just in bad shape...and if you've been hospitalized as much I as I have in the past couple of years, these things would be on your mind as well. I'm just tired of sugar-coating it. I'm also annoyed that I still don't have a good picture of me and Jaime. The one we took in the bar was so dark you could barely tell we are redheads, and have no souls.
I'm visiting a couple of pretty ladies this week, then have resolved to stay in and rest for a while so I don't run myself ragged. I'm about to finish two campaigns so that will free up some time, too. I need to get back to my yearly resolutions, and create more stuff. I want to get back to the sand-blasted plains of Athas with its exotic beasts and courtly intrigue...I want to know what Blarge and his crew will do with their starship after using the hull to kill Randal Skelos...I want to see what kind of tentacled monster Porphyria will summon from the depths of the ocean to scare the daylights out of the good folk of Eastern Saltrock Island...I want to see the last journey of the grizzled old man from a bar in Shakalar.