Bleedin' Schedules

The first round of blood donation did not go as planned. On the up side, my hemoglobin
count was nice and high (15.3 on a scale where the acceptable range is 12-15.5). Unfortunately the phlebotomist did not stick the needle in quite right so I bled incredibly slowly. The nurse then came over and tried re-adjusting the needle (A LOT). Once again skills acquired while doing kinky stuff came in quite handy in a completely vanilla context--hooray for pain processing. After 20 minutes of having to stand by me and hold the needle in place to get any blood at all, she decided there was probably a clot in the needle and stopped the operation with less than half a unit gathered. The whole thing will go to waste now and rather than having 2 weeks between donations, I'll only have one.

In better news, my inner control freak is pleased to note I'm getting a bunch of my to-do list scheduled across the weekends in September.

• This weekend I had a delightful date with Max yesterday, a good walk in the woods with Russell today, and a Mom-visit scheduled for tomorrow.
• Next weekend is all about the spinny rides: I'll be doin' the Puyallup with friends on Saturday and then a very pretty lady will be stringing me up by a pencil swivle at the club Sunday night.
• The weekend after, I'll get in a pile of woods time. I'll be "camping" with Kaylee and a couple girls from work.
• The weekend after that is the long-awaited getaway weekend with Max.
• The Thursday after that (the 25th) I've arranged to stay at my local club after hours with a few friends to get video and possibly stills of the way I dance before surgery. I'll be sharing some of those here on the blog. The rest of that weekend will be dedicated to unstructured surgery/recovery prep.

Of Vampires and Supplements

I donate my first pint of blood tomorrow morning. I used to donate pretty regularly, but haven't been to a blood bank since the early part of this decade. I am partnered to a bisexual man and around here that means my blood is tainted. (I don't really need to type out that whole rant here do I?) I'm a little nervous just because it's one step closer to The Big Day.

One of the things Dr. Williams said I could do to get ready for surgery was to take iron supplements. I managed to avoid picking these up until the beginning of this month. I dutifully took them every day for a week . However I also wound up with more of what I refer to as "brain chemical" problems that week. I had a busy weekend and failed to take my vitamins, but kept taking my prescription med and all of a sudden the brain chemical problems went away. After a second happy week without the vitamins, I was pretty sure there was some problem with one of the two new vitamins I started. While in no way scientific, I discovered some pretty clear anecdotal evidence that my iron supplement was the problem. This was a bummer because with the exception of the brain chemical problems, there really weren't any of the other side effects commonly associated with taking iron (constipation, queesiness etc.). Tonight I'm trying a different brand with a lot fewer extra chemicals added to see what happens. Hooray for experimenting with supplements.

I'll post tomorrow if I have any epiphanies while sitting on the donor's table in the morning.

Scoliosis and Kink

Things about scoliosis that make being kinky more fun:

• In general, people with scoliosis are bendy in fun and interesting ways.
• I spent my formative years wearing a rigid plastic corset that cinched in the back; I now have lots of skill at adjusting garments and bondage behind my back.
• Chronic back pain is an excellent cover story for the magic wand.
  

Things about kink that make having scoliosis easier:

• My mother frequently laments the lack of traction equipment in her house on those days her scoliosis just needs a good stretching out. Hemp + Hardpoints = traction equipment.
• Erotic dancing is great for core strength.
• Lot's of pain processing practice makes you look like a pro on the massage table.
  

Things about scoliosis that pose extra challenges to being kinky:

• Off the rack corsets are out of the question (though I do have a high-quality waist cincher).
• It's hard to explain to the one throwing the flogger why hitting you on the right shoulder and hitting you on the left shoulder elicit completely different responses (one side of my back is a lot meatier than the other).
• Having a back that is unpredictable means needing to have more body awareness and communication skills.
  

In 12 Weeks

In 12 weeks, I'll be starting back at work again. I'll be through the heavy narcotics phase, and the struggling to walk to the bathroom phase, and the hospitalized phase, and the waiting to get this damn thing started phase.

Today though, I've only just started the making appointments phase. I have an appointment with Human Resources tomorrow to complete the paperwork for my leave. I'm making an appointment for a week from tomorrow to donate the first pint of blood for transfusions during surgery.

Now that I'm less than six weeks from surgery I feel a bit like a tiny collection of snowflakes the wind just rolled down a hill. Something tells me the perceived distance from October 1st is going to decrease exponentially rather than linearly. There's so much I want to squish in to this ever shrinking space of time. I want a high-quality hair trimming (I don't anticipate being comfortable in a shampooing sink for many months after surgery). I want to finish editing the shoot we have in the can for TwoBigMeanies. I want to get in a couple social-dance nights--waltzing and swing. I want to go on ridiculous spinny rides (at the Puyallup Fair and the Wetspot). I want to laugh hysterically with my friends. I want to walk in the woods. I want to make it to another Gina Sala chanting session. I want to amass a collection of videos, books, music, and audio books. I want to spend time with my parents and their respective energetic canine companions. I want to get video record of the way I dance at Grind. I want to actually accomplish a shoulder shimmy in belly-dancing class before I can't do it any more.

No Strings Attached

Lately, scenes with Max can be a little extra loaded. It's hard to see big forces of change on the horizon when right now I have something that works so well and that I like so much. The mind gets busy with the worrying: What if I never get to do this again after surgery? Am I ok with my massage therapist seeing the impending marks? What will our relationship look like during my recovery? How do I get the absolute most out of my body right now without risking surgery-delaying damage? Why won't my mind let go so I can just be here now and process this?

The good news? Max is awesome. His steady reassurance and actions that consistently follow his words make for a very safe place to let go of all those strings tugging at my mind. Eventually, I stop having to think at all. Only his words and actions require my response. It's a marvelous place to be.

And as a surgery-prep bonus, I get one hell of a core strength workout.

*wanders off humming Pinocchio songs*

Control Freak Much?

Despite the fact that my life is going really well lately, my brain chemicals have been giving me troubles. This led to a strange thought process last night.
I started thinking about what would/should happen if I become one of the tiny statistics and don't make it out of surgery. Now I'm not tagging this post with "worrying" because I'm actually not worried about that happening at all. If I tag this post it will be with "control freak" instead. Here's a little picture of my brain:

First off, while listening to the Rent soundtrack, I actually sent an email to my mother asking her to request that one of her singing (former)monks return to town to sing at my service with the other two singing monks. (Yes, really, I sent that email to my mother. One of the things I love about my family--bio and chosen both--is that we're not afraid to talk about the awkward stuff.) I'm thinking this has two benefits: I love their voices together and find them soothing and compelling at the same time, and these are some of my mother's closest support network so getting them all together again would help her.

That led me to what kinds of things my chosen family might need to get through it. I decided there wasn't much for me to do around that since what they'll really need is each other. I have no doubt that they will find a way to come together even those who are scattered across the country.

Then my mind wandered to the ever-present difficulty with those of us in the kink community. Obviously there will need to be two gatherings, I just couldn't decide if the straight one should happen in my old home town or here in Seattle. Eventually I decided Seattle was a better option so that my Dad wouldn't have to travel as far and people from work could make it too. Precisely where to do the straight one in Seattle isn't all that important to me--maybe Discovery park to get some woods time . The kinky gathering could happen at the Wetspot or maybe out at Paradise. Honestly, I would just want my family to do what worked best and easiest for them. I would also want it to be CRYSTAL CLEAR to everyone that people of any persuasion are welcome to either gathering so long as they understood and respected the nature of the thing (eg. no reminiscing about that wild scene I did with so-and-so at the straight one and no wigging out about the weirdos/perverts at the kinky one).

The whole line of thought ended with me seeing one of my family members commenting on my control freak nature that compelled me to leave these kinds of thought in writing somewhere.

Oddly, one of the reasons I'm not afraid of dieing during surgery is that I have a really fantastic life and family right now. I'm very happy with what I've done and the people I've touched and the things I learned. I have plenty to live for.

Less Than Two Months

Last Friday marked exactly two months until surgery. I spent a large portion of the work day thinking about what I would be doing two months from then and what I needed to do to prepare for the inevitable. I can't say that was the best use of my time and mental energy, but I will say I managed to do it without careening into a death spiral. Lately I seem to be dealing with it through a combination of dark humor, retail therapy, and reality checks. In a week or two I'm going to need to contact my surgeon's office and get the ball rolling on extended leave requests and blood donation scheduling. Right now I'm more about acquiring bedding that makes me grin and want to squirm around on the bed happily.

Also, as a side note, I'm considering introducing my massage therapist to the wonders of gags next week. What I interpreted last week as a typical reaction to kink information was actually just the way he talks all the time. The whole session was spent with him rattling on about how busy and stressful his weekend had been. Oddly, I had a much harder time releasing some of those tight spots in my back. Oh well, I have a whole week to come up with polite ways to say "STFU!"