proba tive org archives

The heat in my building has been non-existent for two weeks now. Right now it is 63F/16.5C in this room. It went down to 34F/2C last night - brrr.

I have been increasingly irritated by the nonchalance and nerve displayed by my landlord in expecting rent to be paid on time and in full a few days ago. I didn't pay mine and have received a notice of Early Termination already. Other tenants appear to have paid their rent based on the envelopes taped to their doors on Saturday.

I am approaching the "mad as hell and not going to take it anymore" mark on many fronts, the landlording problems being one of these.

Just now a heating repair appears to be taking place. I have my frozen fingers crossed.

I made my way to Cape Vincent, NY to perform another expedited mail run today. It was bright and sunny but there was a brisk cold wind whipping the water. The Canada/US ferry is pretty puny compared to the Wolfe Islander III, holding maybe 7 cars to the Wolfe's 55. The crossing was much like what I imagine a roller coaster would feel like, only a bit wetter.

I decide to foot it across and almost got into the States without being questioned about my travel intentions. I think the guard thought I was one of the locals or something. The whole trip (ferry - drive - ferry - walk - ferry - drive - ferry) took about 3 hours and the same number of loonies. The ferryman was nice enough not to charge me for coming right back.

Heat was restored while I was out. For a while it was uncomfortably warm and then the thing decided it was time for cool and turned off (or died?) a couple of hours ago. Back to what was normal for the building prior to the snafu caused by the upgraded hot water tank installation. Not wonderful, just normal for us.

I've been up for a whole 'normal' day for the first time in a long time and not one nap was needed. I think this getting mad and not taking it anymore thing has possibilities.

Before I go, I must mention that one of my nephews turned 21 today: Happy Birthday, Kevin! I don't have any recent photo's, but this is one of my favourites. It was taken on the famous (within the Halligan clan) Trip To The Cottage in Quebec. A card is in the works, buddy.

Telecom's busiest day approacheth. Because I am a mother (small 'm', Mike) and had a mother just like everyone else, the subject of mothering has been on my mind. Well, she wasn't like everyone else's I am sure, but you know what I meant!

I have frequently been congratulated on raising two wonderful people. Heck, I've been thanked by folks I didn't even know after they learned my parental status. There are some humourous stories in this vein. Historically my response has been to thank these poor deluded folk and humbly assert that it wasn't my fault. Honest. Applause was not necessary. Stop embarrassing me.

I'm taking all that back today. Therapeutic insights have now combined with external evidence, large influences for me, to enable me to accept a crapload of credit for the success of this most rewarding life project.

The Canadian Psychiatric Association has recently published a report, Family Background and Genius, in the Canadian Journal of Psychiatry that weighs in on the nurture side of the famous debate. I found it an interesting read as will my quietly famous son and incredibly talented daughter, I suspect.

So, to those of you who approached me at weddings, conferences, workplaces, restaurants and such to thank me for these gifts to the world: "You are very welcome!" Apparently the fact that I'd just 'done my job' doesn't make it insignificant after all. Nor does the fact that I had a lot of fun along the way.

I can't wait for these guys to research (and bring down, of course) the myths concerning so-called "broken" homes. Such as: children raised in single-parent families are less successful and should not be expected to achieve much in school compared to their doubly-parented peers. I am unable to come up with a reasonable explanation as to the persistence of such ridiculous ideas.

It is my firm belief, based on my personal experience that homes are a lot like bones: once healed they are much stronger than before the "break". Time will tell.

More work of the repair sort was done today at my building. Along with that came the loss of hot water and the sounds of the brick wall outside my kitchen being drilled upon.

Yesterday, despite prior specific communication of expectations that he respect my rights as a tenant to the new landlord, his employee attempted to remove the storms without any prior notification. They have been secured from the inside at my insistence before these new folks inherited the slum. The storms on the rest of the building are not secured and can be removed from the outside by any Tom, Dick or Harry who wishes.

Which is why I had the screens fixed to meet the Property Standards by-law earlier -- I live in the basement (never again!), the lowest part of my windows being at ground level and my floor being about 3 feet lower than that -- couldn't ask for an easier mark, really.

Anyway, he starts banging on them trying to loosen them and I just about jump out of my skin with fright. (No, he didn't even come to the door to forewarn anyone who may have been sleeping.)

I hastily dressed, grabbed my camera and took a picture of him - on a ladder outside my upstairs neighbour's windows by then. He waved at me, oblivious to the breach of law he'd just committed, so I explained that he'd scared the shit out of me and that I would remove the cable ties that secure the storms to the frames once they provide the required advance notice. (Oh, yes, the cable ties... I put them on because the previous maintenance personnel claimed they'd been able to remove my screens without entering my apartment even with the hooks and eyes latched. That person could not or would not adequately explain the how of that, so I made sure it couldn't happen again.)

Also that I'd already informed his employer that I would interpret such violations as attempts at harrassment and intimidation. He apologized and said he had not known (very likely IMO) and he'd mention it to the boss.

Today was incredibly more ridiculous so I walked to take care of some errands. They were still at it when I got back about 3 hours later.

While out and about I discovered an about to bloom magnolia tree in the garden area behind a store I like to visit downtown. Amazing, that. I must remember to go back in the next couple of days to enjoy the perfume.

Out again, this time in the Jeep. It started raining, so my plan to sit in a park was aborted and when I got back the workfolk were blessedly gone for the day. There is a second commercial size hot water heater sitting in the utility room now, so I expect there will be even more noise tomorrow. They can't seriously expect that rent will be paid for this inconvenience, can they?

On the liver health front, some excellent news today: this week's blood tests show a huge change in the good direction for many indicators. By the time the gastro specialist appointment rolls around (in June!) I won't need it. Maybe.

I have an EMG (nerve conduction test) appointment on Monday, so the neck assessment is chugging along nicely thanks to my Ottawa doctor.

(Well, almost - after a shower and packing and stuff.)

I used up too much physical energy yesterday and the day before and maybe I ate meat too soon. In any case, my brain has been just plain slow and confused.

Scary/funny incident in that vein: I managed to turn the wrong way onto a one way street yesterday and had to proceed for one city block to get out of the situation. I was surprised and amused at the fact that the oncoming drivers seemed to need many many many seconds to figure out just what to do - like move into the other of the two lanes so I could creep my way to the intersection. Some of them just stopped dead, stalemating both of us. I was careful to avoid that street the rest of the day.

Just now some fish has been consumed. I'm hoping for some brain energy to catch up with me soon. I am driving to Ottawa this afternoon.

My therapist called me yesterday to check on how I am/was doing. I've never had one do that before and I'm thinking it might be bad news, you know? Needless to say, I was doing fairly well until he forced whatever side of my brain it is to focus on what had transpired in his office this week and which he had labelled "some good work" but upon which I had a wholly different experiential take. See? I am an equal opportunity skeptic. Everyone is a potential contestant, not just employers and landlords and family members.

Actually, I'd had some "Aha!" moments between the appointment with him and the phone call I just wasn't in a frame of mind (or brain energy) to remember what they were on the spur of the moment sitting in a store parking lot.

The squirrels at the park seem to like me a lot. I stopped there to sit by the water (Lake Ontario) and be calmed and many of them very tamely came to investigate. I started to feel like Gulliver when the number of small creatures surrounding and staring at me while keeping a slightly wary but short distance grew to the double digits.

I want to get a picture of one of them who has really odd colouring. Next time I'm going armed with what they were expecting: peanuts.

Congratulations to Michael on his new job. You go kid! I'll come and celebrate with you as soon as my liver permits alcohol consumption again - you drink good stuff.

Today I am sharing my favourite picture of myself and my children. It captures the spirit of what motherhood was all about for me. It was taken in 1984 (time flies!) on a Tall Ship right here in Kingston by David Baril, the most significant other to grace my life post-motherhood.

Yes, Kingston ... coincidence? I'm with Jung on this: there are no coincidences.

This memento of that day's outing reflects the joyful, contented "rightness" that was the best part of my life back then. Mothering these two has taught me what love truly is - a lesson that saved my soul and healed my heart.

The best coincidences of my life conspired to give me this image:

I am safely home, if a bit more pained than usual. The EMG was the oddest test I've had thus far in my medical adventures. The nerves in my arm are still reactiing. But it was worth it: my subjective observations of loss of strength were confirmed scientifically. The culprit is nerve root compression, a result of the herniation of a disc in my neck many years ago. One more test is in the works after which the neurologist will discuss strategies for mediation.

For both of these out of town appointments I have been accomodated as an overnight guest by good friends in Ottawa so I could spread the driving over a couple of days. I am fortunate to have wonderful friends who take good care of me.

Upon my return I discovered a gift from my son (I love the card, sweetie!) and a living room window that had been broken. The screen was toast as well, since the impact came from the outside. Luckily my cuddly little Dixie had not escaped. Likewise no wildlife had made an entry.

The privacy film I had installed lived up to the claims on the packaging: the shards of glass were prevented from blasting all over the room. Just a smattering of those annoying tiny pieces to take care of immediately.

A very odd piece of mail was at Mailboxes, too. But that will wait till tomorrow.

A side effect of this liver nonsense is confusion caused by an under-fueled brain. Just now I learned that muscles may also be confused. Who knew? Mine are still pissed off at the ordeal from yesterday.

The window and screen were repaired early this morning. They are improved even, since the glass guy put pebbled glass into the window frame for me and metal fabric in the screen.

I've been too out of it to do much in the bulldog department. Including inquiring as to the odd communication I received yesterday. I don't think waiting another day to deal with it will be all that detrimental. Confronting bafflement while my head is not working might be worse IMO.

I puttered around doing some cleaning while waiting for the window repair to be done and wandered around Costco while waiting for Rx's. I saw the coolest stone chess board and pieces there. All made of stone and humongous! When next I have a permanent dwelling, I'll just have to get me one.

So, here in Kingston we are having summer temperatures (and sun! lots of sunshine) in spring while western parts of Ontario and Canada are having winter in spring. Does this support the global warming prophecy? It doesn't seem intuitive to me at all.

I made my way to the park and absorbed some sun and fresh air this afternoon. I remembered to take some peanuts for the nut lovers there, too. While I was sitting on a bench one bold little guy climbed right up beside me. He was so tame I was able to hold the peanut and have him take it out of my hand.

Nothing like a little squirreliness to make me smile. Cute little rodents, really.

The other day I gave a bunch of them some grapes and got a picture or two of the differently coloured one which I'll share after I get the film developed. They ate the first couple they got, taking quite a while to enjoy each of them, I must say. Maybe that was enough to fill them up because after that they started burying them in the grass.

Stashing or farming? Only the squirrels know for sure.

I'm still recovering from the excesses of the end of this week. Thursday held two head-related appointments, one with the traditional therapist and the other with a hypnotherapist.

Hypnotherapy fits many of my criteria for wellness assistance. It is effective and useful in the present moment and will avoid the side-effects of drugs that could possibly achieve the same results. My liver is applauding. Pain control is one of them; reducing anxiety and depression is another. After that, the sky's the limit. And I'm in the driver's seat. Gotta love that. Well, I do!

Yesterday was road trip day. First to an exploratory meeting (out of town) in the employment department. A full day's worth of activity was required, including the obligatory preparation of documents not used. Typical. Life is perverse in that respect.

May 14th also marked a milestone birthday for my best friend, Marsha. I decided to drive to Delta to surprise her and was lucky enough to find her there. A brief visit ensued because we were both exhausted. Welcome to the half-century club, girl!

I knew I'd be tired today but didn't anticipate exactly the magnitude of the tiredness. One more night's sleep should do the trick. I hope.

First thing in the morning, two things indicate the level alertness and wellness I am about to enjoy. One is my appetite. Normally my tummy is awake before I am. The other is how poorly or well I manage to play the piano.

Lately I have been not hungry for hours after waking. To the point that I have to force myself to eat (after I realize I haven't). While recovering yesterday I was not only too tired to wash the dishes and make breakfast, I could barely focus enough to read the classified ads. I didn't even try the keyboard.

Today is a different story altogether. An improved story: I have been hungry most of the day even though I have been eating. And my brain is staying in gear for longer periods of time. Yay!

I still have spells of complete and utter fatigue a couple of times a day, but these seem to respond very well to a short rest. When I remember to practice what I learned at hypnotherapy this week, which in itself requires a certain number of brain cells to be fueled, I feel wonderfully refreshed after the rest.

More odd mail at Mailboxes today. This time it's from Bell. Apparently they want me to continue paying for service I am no longer receiving. Not likely, but nice try anyway. No wonder I hate them.

I haven't dealt with the other odd mail I received earlier in the week yet. I mailed a cheque in US funds for deposit to my NC account. The cheque was from me, to me. The whole transaction was returned with a note stating processing was aborted because "foreign check does not cover available balance in account". Huh?? Why the hell should it? The worst I expected was a hold on funds for a few days. But no, apparently I was wrong. This is more than I could have dreamed.

The final line on the form completes the Alice-in-Wonderland quality of this communication: "Your cooperation in correcting the above exception(s) when making future deposits will facilitate processing and enable us to better serve your banking needs." You don't say.

Perverseness requires that the day after I notice a general trend towards improvement a day of regression and exhaustion is mandatory. Should have known better.

I feel like I've had a body transplant and this one's a whole new ball game. It must have been found at a reseller (like Value Village, maybe?) because it didn't come with an operation manual. Not even any troubleshooting hints.

I'm having a hard time distinguishing the different types of tiredness and therefore properly attributing a cause that I can address. In fact, today I was too tired to drive the letter I needed to get to the landlord people to their place, so I called a cab. Amey's, naturally.

The letter was a heads up about the impending application for a rent abatement (refund, retroactive reduction, whatever you want to call it). I'd wanted desperately to get the paper work finalized today but the energy black hole moved into my world. Tomorrow's the day now. The reason I wanted them to know is/was that tomorrow is the first day they could file an eviction application because I didn't pay the rent while there was no heat and much noise and interference with my "right of quiet enjoyment".

So, you could say I was being helpful and saving them the filing fee of $150. But there are other reasons for my heads up to them. It gives them a chance to play nice and back off. And if they don't (wagers anyone?), I'll be calling in the officials from Fire & Rescue and Property Standards to document violations that (still/again) exist in the building and my apartment.

I believe, and should check, a tenant cannot be evicted while there are outstanding violations (which explains the flurry of activity that took place just before the last such scenario played out in the fall with the previous management types). But I am getting way ahead of the game.

Back to tired and dragging my ass around. I admit I did forget to eat for most of the day. Or at least, I didn't eat as much or as often as I did yesterday. But I didn't feel hungry, either. While resting for a bit I decided I felt about as close to comatose as I can recall, which got me wondering: Do people in comas feel really tired?

Immediately after that I decided to give my brain the rest of the night off. And, yes, I ate again.

The cost of gas has prompted me to install a locking gas cap on my Jeep again. That, and rechecking (one last time) who the owners of record are for the building were the only really productive things I did today. At least they are the only ones I recall. Bummer.

Today I was out of my den of annoyance very briefly. Thrice to be exact. The last two outings were in the late afternoon and were remarkable because of the many emergency vehicles that were attempting to go places while contending with Kingstonian drivers, who are apparently generally unaware of this section of Ontario's Highway Traffic Act. I think the expectation is the same all over Canada and the US actually.

I don't have too many pet peeves, but this might be the biggest one. Practice emergency vehicle drills like fire drills should be staged randomly and every single driver who does not get out of the way should have their license suspended for a whole year. No appeals. No negotiations. Move it or lose it.

One driver who was in the right lane of a four lane road with me in the left lane actually moved toward me after I had moved toward the curb closest to me. That's right: they headed into the middle of the road, then got a little smarter and just stopped where they were, despite the empty turn lane on the right. I'm thinking uncertainty led them to the wrong-headed conclusion that the rule must be "move to the left" since that's where I was going. Still no excuse, IMO.

Thankfully, the ambulance that was approaching from behind got by us just fine anyway but I had a real urge to follow and, after she'd stopped somewhere ask the question with which all such traffic incompetents should be confronted: If that vehicle was heading to your house how many people would you want doing what you just did along the way?

Seconds Can Save Someone You Love

Three. That's the maximum number of tenant applications the Ontario Rental Housing Tribunal here in Kingston can now book for any one day of hearings. Which was the explanation I was given for the fact that my landlord's application has a hearing date of June 9 and my hearing date is June 30 even though he filed his yesterday and I filed mine today.

"They take a long time." The tenant applications. No kidding. And that must be why they've abandoned the first come, first served plan: so landlords don't have to wait so long to toss people out on the street. Much better that tenants, who are not, by the way being PAID for any of this work, wait as long as possible. Nice

I was as understanding as I could be while I waited for the cumbersome manual processing of my forms. Quasi-judicial and quasi-automated. Many hours have gone into preparing this, the first part of the documentation. There are 8 (yes, 8!) named parties to my application each of whom is to receive a packet of documents approximately 125 pages in size.

There's more to come, but I think most of it will be on a CD: emails, photo's (jpg) and the recorded encounters.

Which brings me to a funny part of the day. I found out (only by asking - it's not in any of the helpful instructions that accompany the forms) that if even one of the addresses I have for these folks is wrong and needs to be changed, I must serve everyone again after I have requested an amendment to the application itself. (Well, if it's in the instructions, it sure isn't very prominent.)

There was one person whose address I was unsure of because it is listed on canada411 as a rural route. The land registry came up with two different physical addresses for that rather unique name. Anyway, I called this person and left a message asking for a return call and indicating I needed their address so I could get some papers to them related to my application to the Tribunal.

I was pleased and surprised to get a call earlier this evening. And then very very amused at the wariness: Do I have to sign anything? (No) Is this call being recorded? (No) (I really really wanted to ask if he was going to say something that he didn't want recorded - but I behaved and did not.) Panadew doesn't manage that building anymore. (Right, but they did then and an application can go back a year or more.)

This time around I am enjoying the fact that some people are intimidated by me. More accurately, they really are just worried about light being shed in dark corners they'd rather not have others notice. Looks good on them. How's that saying go? "People with nothing to hide hide nothing."

He still hasn't given me an address, but did agree to try to meet me sometime tomorrow so I can hand him the papers. We'll see. And I'll go back to the Tribunal office first thing and amend the application (before I make copies for everyone) to reflect the rural route address instead of the one I guessed at.

AND THEN -- I'll have the joy of handing out the packages.

This evening I watched a bunch of deer playing and grazing just off the highway about 8 pm or so. They were magical and awesome and gentle and peaceful. A lovely change from the insane noise and irritations of my building.

I only just got back from escaping and the place has settled down somewhat - for now.

More paper copying, punching, binding, mailing, serving (I liked this part best!) and now just one more to go and I can fill in 8 more forms and my battle with the slumlords will be started.

I managed to squeeze a visit with my friend Larissa and a medical appointment into the day as well. Whew!

A near-miss on the road this morning had me admonishing myself for not paying attention. After my complaints about all the other drivers here in Kingston, not to forget my sideline, I felt obligated to avoid rear-ending the van ahead of me. The fact that I hadn't noticed the brake lights when traffic stopped for a red light really got me worried. Actually, it was the panic and adrenaline that accompanied registering the lack of space between us.

The rest of our journey together I paid very close attention to the rear end of the van, figuring my brain was acting under-fueled again so I'd better focus more deliberately. And then I noticed that I couldn't have noticed the brakes and it wasn't my lax driving that was to blame at all: the van's brake lights hadn't changed once even though we were in stop and go traffic and stopped and went many times.

I actually spent a bit of time watching how the van was being driven because the only explanation for the fact that it was stopping appropriately distant from the car ahead of it was that the driver was using a manual transmission and purposely avoiding hitting the brakes. It can be done, but this was a late model van and there was a baby seat visible and I figured it was highly unlikely.

While we were stopped at a light, I got out and asked the very pregnant driver if she was in fact using her brakes when she stopped. Then I explained that I'd almost hit her because her brake lights weren't working at all. She thanked me for letting her know and we went on our way. I just hope she got them looked at right away...what with all the excellent drivers around here, you know?

I really ought to pay more attention to the local radio and newspaper. 'Cuz I was not informed of this prison leaving earlier in the week. And, since this is a known felon, why wasn't his picture in the paper rather than a rather terse description?

Kingston is home to several penitentiaries. And there were a lot of police cars downtown the other day.

Huh. Wonder if they caught him yet? Maybe they're too busy looking for this other guy?

Must remember to add prison query to relocation questionnaire.

... well, maybe a couple mil ... I'd buy this. 'Course I'd want a few puppies thrown in for good measure!

Today marks the end of the paper dance required to file my application to the Rental Tribunal in an effort to expose the conditions that have characterized my tenancy here in Kingston and effect some change for the better.

The final party was served this morning and eight Certificates of Service were filed with the Tribunal, so the game is officially ON.

I am anticipating a possible backlash (although, what more could they come up with anyway?) but feeling ready to deal with whatever comes next is more important to me. Several weeks ago I had almost accepted that I'd have to postpone this battle until I had fully recovered which, deep in the throes of itchiness and sleep deprivation, seemed may take an inordinately long time. Perhaps longer than the rules would allow for me to take up the cause again.

The blood tests this week still say I'm abnormal (yeah, yeah) but I am feeling much less symptomatic and ready to get on with living instead of just surviving. Nothing like a good fight to celebrate being back.

The Residential Tenancy 101 pages will be updated and expanded tomorrow after I tame the paper mess created along the way.

A veritable bevy of lilacs were in full bloom today. My morning was spent walking down to the harbour and back, enjoying the quietude that early Sunday morning is all about and encountering tree after tree along the way. The humid and overcast conditions held the wonderful aroma in the air very nicely.

If the state of my apartment is a reflection of the state of my head, then this weekend marks the first in a while that things have started to fall (or be placed) into some order. I don't usually have this much trouble getting settled into a new dwelling, but then again, I have had a history of renting houses over cruddy basement apartments and this has been a rather anomalous couple of years.

Anyway, more stuff was carted to storage yesterday in anticipation (wishful thinking some might say) of a possible swarm of repairpersons descending upon my humble hovel. Additionally, distractions in the form of things-not-yet-done but-intending-to-be are being reduced as well. The road to hell and all that.

Today my bedroom furniture and a small part of the kitchen were reorganized. The bedroom to put it back in summer mode: bed on outside wall instead of winter's cramped mode with bed on interior wall. The kitchen effort was in favour of keeping my bike indoors. I had been making do figuring I'd start using the bike rack, until a chat revealed that another tenant had their bike stolen from that very rack just a few days ago. Lucky for me we stumbled onto that in our talk.

I'm feeling better than I have in a while now and I'm willing to credit the fresh air and long walk. I have accepted the fact that tomorrow's wellness cannot be predicted. This condition of mine is a complete crap shoot, so I'll be enjoying the good days and ignoring the less good days from now on.

104: Number of times the bell rang just before mass at one of the churches I walked past this morning.

Today is Victoria Day which marks, among other things, the birthday of Queen Victoria . If you actually read the link about her, she was quite the woman. Rightly or wrongly, her era has a reputation for repressed sexuality. Seems even piano legs were covered up to conceal their provocativeness. Repression made pianos suggestive. Good grief.

To celebrate our freedom, here's a parody of a song done by Queen: "We Are The Champions" (from WavThis.com) for your amusement. Victorians would faint. You've been warned, Mike.

Listen

Good: I have been found by a bracelet. It appeared out of nowhere when I was leaving the meditation garden behind the Sacred Source a few weeks ago. When I went into the store today I was told that nobody was missing it so I must be meant to have it. Just call me Wonder Woman.

Bad: The freezer of the fridge that was installed here in October is dying a horrible, noisy death. Oh joy. Luckily my friend Larissa has freezer space if I need it. The landlord will be getting a call in the morning. Lucky guy.

Indifferent: My GP's attitude today when I brought to her attention a blood test result that she'd had since the end of April and had not discussed with me but which leads me to believe I may have a more serious condition than originally suspected: a positive ANA test. She was willing today to state what I'd suspected for many weeks: she doesn't know much about liver things. And she apparently doesn't read the lab results until I am in her office: searching through the papers in my file, saying she may not have received the results. I reminded her that I'd gotten the information from her file, so it had to be in there (we were discussing a spreadsheet I'd prepared from the copies).

A pharmacist told me last week that she insists on getting copies of all testing just for this reason - sometimes nobody looks at them, in which case the lack of a call from the doctor indicates nobody has looked, not that there is no problem. I shall keep this as personal best practice.

When we were nearing the end of our visit, she suggested that perhaps I didn't need to see her for a while what with the GYN, Neuro and Gastro referrals going on. Since I am not at all sure the liver (gastro) doctor is going to be following me from now on, and the earliest I can get an appointment when I call is a couple of weeks, I wrangled a just-in-case post-referral date for the last week of June. But I am much closer to firing her ass than showing up for another useless and potentially dangerous appointment with her.

Weird: While logging in to post this incredibly interesting slice of life, Netscape interpreted the tab (to the password) as a switch to the other window character (happens often on my system - don't ask me why). Not noticing and/or typing faster than the speed of light, I entered my password while the Mail window was active. The result is that the subject of a message now has orange coloured font. I have *no* idea how to undo this, BTW

The freezer was just fooling as it turns out. The black stuff was powder and bits of charcoal. The noise was the fan beating the shit out of the small packet that contained the charcoal.

During the phone call that preceded the repair, my landlord suggested we get together to talk. When I asked the subject of such an encounter, his answer was "Things". Hmm. I supposed this might include my application for a rebate of rent, since it is a "thing".

I didn't want to appear to be unreasonably difficult despite the fact that I have every right to be. "Can't hurt to talk." was my response, along with the caveat that I am very ill and my energy levels fluctuate day to day. He's going to call me when he's free. Well, he's going to try --- I need to recharge my cell phone pronto.

I am definitely in unfamiliar territory with this application. I will be getting some legal guidance prior to any further discussions on the subject of "Things."

Since my last post I have been hunting for information about what I am starting to suspect is my next challenge. Based on what I have found on the web and what my bloodwork has shown (to me, if not to my GP - see the previous post about that!) I think I am dealing with autoimmune hepatitis. I think. I will know more after I am seen by a gastro specialist.

But for the past two days I have been going through the emotional rollercoaster of alternately believing I will beat this and then believing things are all downhill from here. The mental confusion that has been a newer development adds weight to the latter, but then the sense of humour (about stupid things like standing in the elevator on the ground floor, pressing "G" repeatedly and repeatedly wondering why the door stayed open) gives me hope for the former.

I overcame an earlier encounter with autoimmune disease (rheumatoid arthritis) by refusing to accept that nothing could be done but consume handfuls of aspirin to control the pain. The prospect of not being able to care for my baby or play the piano was crushing. And ultimately unacceptable to me. Not to mention taking aspirin indefinitely.

Livers are decidely more complicated and critical to survival than pain in connective tissue. What with this confusion and memory adventure game going on, keeping things straight this time around will be another challenge.

There is a saying about safety in numbers. To my way of thinking this is not just true of physical safety, but emotional and psychological as well. My children are my blessings at the moment, having agreed to lend me safety and attend the upcoming medical consultation with me. I feel braver already.

Francis Bacon reportedly said that knowledge is power. Which may explain why the hellish part of my current situation is not having anyone (yet?) to whom I can direct questions that seem urgently important right now: What should I be doing to help my body heal itself? What should I not? Why?

I have written my GP off as a source of information and support. I have been in search of other community and internet resources since the appointment with her earlier this week with some success already.

A loaned book from a local support centre (about living with Hepatitis C) brought me as close as I want to get right now to entertaining the worst case scenario. It didn't answer all of my questions, but made doing whatever I can to avoid getting to that stage extremely attractive. Even though I was in tears, I stayed with it figuring the real thing was going to be worse than reading about it and I'd better not start wimping out already.

The proprietor of a vitamin store helped by providing names and background information on a few of the naturopaths in town. 'Course the government health plan won't cover that consultation.

The more I learn about the liver, the more amazed I am. It can and does regenerate itself which is really good news. It is the only organ in your body that can do that. If I can get my immune system to stop abusing the poor thing, we'll both be happier.

I have started the same regimen that I used many many years ago to help my immune system get back to normal but without the aspirin. The very helpful and supportive pharmacist at Costco discussed the pro's and con's of aspirin with me, let me read the drug reference they have and finally convinced me not to take any until the gastro consult.

The past two days have been sunny (if not warm) and I have been out of my apartment as much as possible gathering peace and restorative vibrations from nature. Okay, and avoiding the nerve jangling noise of the building. I am especially drawn to the outdoors when the weather is active - rain, blowing wind, thunder, lightning - it's all wonderful energy to me.

Watching the sunset tonight I remembered many summer nights spent on the beach at Sandbanks enjoying the wonder of nature's beauty pageant, knowing it could never be owned, only experienced and savoured. And feeling privileged to be where I was at that moment.

I plan to get back there for a while this year - before my life takes me I know not where. The itch to camp is growing. It's been way too long since I've burned wood and slept outdoors. Wanna come?

This week's bloodwork says the liver trend continues toward normal. Yay team! A long way to go, but trends is trends, you know. Cause for some optimistic feelings, if only because when the trend changes there will definitely be negative feelings. Equal air time and all that.

Writing about my yen to camp got me thinking that I have been 'camping' here in this cement atrocity for approaching two years now. I've been mentally describing it as "all the inconveniences of camping without any redeeming attributes". Namely fresh air, green spaces, campfires and being on vacation.

The transition to permanently camping outdoors wouldn't be too much of a leap. It would probably be a whole lot better for my health, too.

Well, during the summer here in Canada anyway. For my Southern readers I will add that last night it got down to 41F. The prediction is for similar overnight temperatures for the next couple of nights as well. Great weather for campfires and/or fireplaces.