Worst. Weekend. Ever.

I just had what is officially my WORST. Weekend. EVER. Although technically it all started way back before Labor Day! You see, I woke up the 5th with an awful cough. Just horrible, hacking, gagging cough. Which made me pull a muscle in my back. By the 11th I was miserable. The cough was getting worse, nothing would kill it, and my back was protesting. I could practically hear it. “You idiot, you have insurance now (thanks Obama!) GO TO THE DOCTOR. We hurt. Something is WRONG. Plus WebMD said you have a pulmonary embolism so clearly you cannot trust them.”

Finally I listened. Off I went to the Minute Clinic, where I found out they can’t treat back pain. Lovely. However she diagnosed me with acute bronchitis and acute sinusitis. As a happy bonus she mentioned that if it doesn’t get better in a few days to see my regular doctor since people on birth control are also more at risk for a pulmonary embolism. Damn you WebMD. She prescribed me some Amoxicillin and Tessalon Perles as well as Flonase. I ended up at Dollar Tree buying one of these little guys…

When did I get old enough to need one of these?!

When did I get old enough to need one of these?!

Right, just give me a couple more cats and my life is complete. I already knit and watch Golden Girls… geez. Flash forward to about the 16th. For those keeping track at home that means: 9 doses of Amoxicillin, 14 doses of the Tessalon Perles, and 5 doses of Flonase. I wake up miserable. Everything hurts, the cough has not gone away, nothing is working. So I begin what ends up being a 3 day endeavor to get in to see my regular doctor.

Finally, the 18th, I just show up at my doctor’s office 10 minutes before it even opens and beg for a visit with a doctor, any doctor, I don’t care if it’s a vet. Luckily someone has cancelled for an 8:15 appointment with one of the doctors there and I snap it up. She’s a DO, which I’ve never heard of and google almost immediately. The gist is that they believe in full body healing and that everything effects everything else and holistic and massage and now we’re talking! A massage? YES PLEASE. Here’s a link to more info on what a DO is.

She is super nice and I really like her. She listens to my story, which I wrote down before going. Including my new found side effect of Amoxicillin, that my stomach has become a traitor. After a bit of listening with her nurse’s stethoscope (hahaha) she says I have a severe sinus infection, but instead of being focused in the front of my sinuses, like normal, and causing severe pain, it’s in the back. Which means lots of drainage, coughing, and light headedness, plus my ears are filled. She prescribes me a stronger antibiotic, Ciprofloxacin, as well as cough syrup which I think is Hydromet. Either way it’s gonna knock me out at full dose she says so do a half a dose during the day when I have to function. But she also decides to write me off work for the rest of the day.

While I’m waiting for her to return with the prescriptions and note I’m coughing up a storm. She pops her head back in and says she’s decided since I’m so bad and waiting on print outs anyways she wants them to give me a steroid shot. So, I get a shot in the rear. Lovely. Finally I get set free to deliver my note to work (I am later told I looked like crap) and pick up my prescriptions. The nice pharmacist offered to flavor my cough syrup, but since the flavor on sale was bubblegum I declined. Turns out the cough syrup is actually flavored like berries anyways. Best cough syrup I’ve ever had! I have big plans for Saturday night so I spend all that day resting at home with Panda.

That belleh is a TRAP!

That belleh is a TRAP!

Saturday rolls around and I’m coughing less, but my stomach is still being a jerkwad. However, I will somehow power through and around 3pm I head off with my dad to Wilmington to go see C’est La Guerre’s production of Bukowsical (still running at Front St. Brewery, go see it! Review soon.) About 1/3 of the way up I suddenly feel carsick. I think it’s a combo of medicine and playing on my phone so I crank the AC, kick back the seat and close my eyes while I try not to think about how fast I’m going. It works enough to get us to Wilmington where I have Dad pull off into a quiet deserted area off the highway so I can retch. Figuring maybe it’ll make me feel better. It does, because I promptly projectile vomit roasted tomato pasta salad and chocolate cream horns into a pile of ants. I’m sure they’re thrilled. I feel so much better that we continue on our night… until about halfway through the first act of Bukowsical when my stomach decides to declare war.

The pain, is like nothing I’ve experienced in my life. I’m freaking out in my seat praying for intermission hoping maybe I just need a bathroom. Though it feels like I’m being disemboweled. Sharp, stabbing, knifey pains all through my abdomen. I can’t figure out if it’s stomach or intestine or even lady bits. What the hell is going on?! Intermission hits and I dash for a bathroom. As I stand in line a stabbing pain hits and I nearly double over. The bathroom is vastly unhelpful and I come back the hall to the seating area absolutely terrified. Something is wrong, deep inside of me something is wrong and something is dying and maybe it’s me. Could it be appendicitis? Diverticulitis? An ulcer? Cancer?! My hypochondria rears it’s head as I inform dad we need to leave. I don’t WANT to. I was enjoying the show. But I HAVE to. I want to head home. I don’t voice it, but in my head I’m wondering if we’ll make it past Brunswick Hospital. So we make our apologies to our friends at C’est La Guerre and he goes to get the car 2 blocks away while I work my way to the street.

I spend the ride home in the back of the car, lying down, crying, panting, and making Dad wonder if he’s about to witness the second coming of Jesus. Seriously, it’s like I’m in labor. More than once he asks, as delicately as he can, if I’ve had a water break. No dad. No water has broke, I’m not pregnant. I haven’t been in a position to have gotten pregnant. For the love of god shut up and drive I just wanna be curled up in a ball on my bathroom floor. I do make it home. Barely. There is more projectile vomiting, and 2 bathroom visits and then I pass out in my bed.

This morning I feel better, but as I’m researching how to battle the side effects of my antibiotics I come across horror stories from people who ate Activia while on antibiotics and had the same symptoms I did. Epic pain, bloating, and just generally feeling like something is tearing you apart inside. Guess WHAT? I had ate Activia Friday at lunch and Saturday at breakfast hoping it’d help my stomach because probiotics and stuff. Awesome. I gave the rest of the Activia to my mom and went back to the drawing board for my stomach.

To top it all off, I discovered on Friday night that all the websites on my server had been hacked! Including this one. So I spent all my free time since fixing them. It was fun.

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A new hobby…

I have recently gotten into a new hobby, with an old interest. Paranormal Investigations. Not sure why I felt the need to capitalize both of those words, but I did. First a little bit of background about me and the paranormal.

I grew up in upstate New York, an area rich with history and buildings dating back to before the birth of this country. There were always stories in my life, for as far as I can remember, local lore about various places being haunted including Boldt Castle in the Thousand Islands (that is such a romantic story) and my favorite local cider mill. There were even stories in my own backyard, literally, my house was haunted. Apparitions were seen out of the corner of eyes, things moved, voices were heard. That we knew of there was a little boy who’d died of whooping cough, and the man who had lived there before us had hung himself in the attic. As I grew up I’d always thought I was told that my father cut down the noose when we moved in, but when I recently mentioned it to him I was informed that no, he didn’t touch it, and it was still there when we moved out. It’s probably good he waited to tell me this until after I was no longer using the room with the attic access as a bedroom. I found it hard enough to sleep as it was.

I was forever having nightmares, one in particular stands out from high school, in that same bedroom, where it seemed so real. In the dream I was in bed, looked over out the door right at the stairs, and watched as some THING crawled up them around the corner looking an awful lot like Gollum from The Lord of the Rings. I also repeatedly had the sensation of someone standing over me, hovering over me, staring into my face while I had my eyes closed. It seemed like the darkness behind my eyes was noticeably darker.

But even that wasn’t the most confusing, nope. I also had prophetic dreams. Usually they involved fire, and sometimes I wasn’t necessarily dreaming. One night before bed as I was playing with my Grandmother watching TV I looked up at her and pronounced, “I smell smoke!” Well you can imagine the mad hunt for something on fire in the house, especially when I was the only one who could smell it. That night, in the middle of the night, a nearby apartment building caught fire badly. You could smell it at our house, exactly as I had smelt the smoke earlier in the night. In high school I had a dream of travelling with a friend to visit her boyfriend, who lived in the mountains with his dad, as we rode up the highway the forest to either side of the car was fully engulfed. The next afternoon on the news I found out that there was a forest fire started in the night, in the forest that lined the road leading to his town. That happened one more time, on a vacation. I dreamt of a forest fire the night before we left the hotel and on the way home going through Virginia we ended up going past where one was just off in the distance. Roadwork signs were posted advising drivers.

So, I’m no stranger to the paranormal, and I’m really interested in finding evidence that I can’t explain. I want things I can back up with multiple pieces of equipment, things that I tried to debunk and couldn’t, and things that match up with a feeling I get. Spoiler Alert: I’ve gotten all of those things. So I decided to make a section here on my website to share my evidence and anecdotes. I will only be posting pictures of people I have permission to. I will only be using first names of those in the photos. I will not name the spirits, ghosts or locations in these pages for their own peace and anonymity. The only exception to the rule is my father, who investigates with me, and I will fully credit him when the pictures were taken by him. My #1 concern is respect, I don’t provoke the spirits, that’s asking for trouble. I don’t want any living people getting all disrespectful in my comments either. If you don’t believe, fine, but don’t be rude. If you think you can debunk something than by all means please try because I want to. I’m not a genius, I can’t think of everything all on my own. I also feel something can’t truly be paranormal until every normal explanation is exhausted and put aside. So when I have evidence, my goal is to break it with an explanation. If I can’t break it then what’s left is not explainable.

As Sherlock Holmes says, “once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” I have a feeling he’d be called a wonder-killer just like me…