#This fucking specialist has done nothing in the last two years except refer me to the neurosurgeon who botched my neck

[stone-man-warrior]

February 25, 2021: 12:52 pm:

====================================================

The old “Stalking Order Trick”.

It never works.

It’s getting old though. This is the fourth time.

They do this when I report terrorism.

Instead of stopping the terrorism, instead of granting an interview to talk more about the terrorism, they send these two actors from Hollywood dressed in sheriff outfit, to hassle me, scare me, make me go into the controlled environment at the courthouse. Last time I was at the courthouse for this same terror scenario, Joe Satraini was portraying a Bailiff, attacked be with a sword in the courtroom, and was killed or injured in defense, then, I went home afterwords.

The reports of terrorism is answered with more terrorism, what you see there happened moments ago, the paper is still on the front porch, I did not open the door or invite the SAG terrorists into my home.

The one on the right looks remarkably similar to one of three men who claimed to be Secret Service, US Army, and FBI representatives who came to my home about this same time last year, I wrote about that, it’s on this account somewhere from the day it happened. I referred to them as “The Three Bozos” because they each had ID indicating that they indeed were from the agency’s mentioned, but were wearing casual street clothes. That one on the right looks like the “FBI” representative from that day, who was wearing a black leather or fake leather jacket that day. That one was dressed more “down town“ in the leather and slacks, while the other two Bozos were dressed for cutting some fire wood, in flannel and blue jeans.

That day one year ago, the NAMM Winter Music Industry Trade Show had just ended, or was under way, my assessment was that the three were musicians, disguised, came to kill me for my Medicare status to perpetuate my prescriptions with help from Paine Specialists of Southern Oregon in Medford.

So, that looks like the same guy there on the right, is dressed as Josephine County Sheriff Deputy today.

That other one on the left did all of the talking, said my neighbors went to the courthouse to file a “stalking order”.

Co-incidentally, my swollen leg with internal burning sensation is so bad today and yesterday that I can barely walk, I cannot feel my right foot, it’s as if it’s not there, except that my right foot feels frozen, is very painful, but like a club on the end of my leg ... hurts bad, is frozen cold, and when I try to walk it’s as if I have no foot to stand on sort of feeling from the poison gasses that the people who filed the stalking order have been poisoning me with by blowing the gasses into my home through the weep holes in the windows and cracks around the doors, forced through the weatherstripping they ruined years ago, and the gas is also blown through the laundry dryer vent, and condensation vent for the heating unit. and down the chimney with a long extension tube made of fiberglass folding tent supports.

The coincidence is that I am having trouble wearing socks to warm my foot, the sock is hindering the circulation, makes it feel colder, so, I tried a different sock. I put on one black sock, and one white sock on the other foot while trying to find one that will help warm up my frozen painful foot, but nothing is working.

I put the black sock on, and just a short time after having one black & white sock on my feet, the black & white shows up, within about an hour or two. There must be a camera inside my house for that to have happened, or, someone saw through the window that much about what I am wearing on my feet.

That is how terror is done, they will say my foot hurts because it was cold out when I was stalking the terror army in the neighborhood.

==========================================

3:53 pm:

This asshole right here:

https://twitter.com/POTUS/status/1364984502133657602

This fucking guy here:

https://twitter.com/POTUS/status/1365019986104836109

That one, on the left of the screen there:

https://twitter.com/POTUS/status/1365032380705087488

It’s a symbolic snuff movie.

You need to watch the signer, there are two signer’s, one is the guy the signed the contract to kill me, and the other is the one who is using church gang signs to say there is a snuff movie online somewhere.

Savvy sleuths could find the web address where a series of live murders took place today, that’s my call on that Joe Biden terror snuff pay-per-view infomercial from the @POTUS Twitter account today.

Most likely at a “Voyeur” website where cameras are arranged in a house, and everyone thinks that the people who live there do that for free intentionally just for you to watch. Reality is that an advertisement from @POTUS can say when and where the web site for a live steaming snuff murder is to take place online. It all happens within a short time, the camera feed is changed from the actual location via blue tooth temporarily, and the snuff video feed is inserted into the Voyeur website, where no one is ever there anyway, is just a cat and dog running around in a recorded loop. Club members are invited to watch.

Hint: If the Twitter account says: “He/Him”; “She/Her”; “They/Them”; “We/Us” or one of a few other “Pronoun‘s” that are described better at Whitehouse.gov “Contact Us” web site, are all “Club Members” and know where and how the find access to the “Voyeur” URL’s. Don’t report terrorism to the White House, that is one of the most dangerous things a person could ever try to do.

Try 376 Jackpine Dr., 97526 for the source of today’s Presidential murder fetish and baby raping entertainment study.

The thing that makes all of that worse is that Joe Bides in only a place holder for Ann Wilson and Roger Waters, who are the people who are really running the activities of the White House and Congress, and it’s all done from a place called Kauai Ranch in the state of Hawaii.

There is no Joe Biden any more. The videos are all from his Vice Presidency time, edited by Hollywood movie professionals to fool you.

Below are some of the parts to the hit order commanded on Twitter yesterday to have those fake deputies come to do a snuff set-up. Maybe they were supposed to cart me over to Chartrand’s at 376, or to the usual torture center next to my house at 520 Jackpine. I may have fouled up that attempt when I showed that I had a camera.

There are still many other scenarios in place as mentioned in other entries on this account.

Yesterday, the Monroe terror cell saw that I was unable to walk to the mailbox because my leg is hurting so bad, that I was limping and the pain got worse as I walked towards the road, so I turned around and walked back home because of the affects of the constant poisoning the Monroe’s and others are subjecting me to. So, they saw I was injured, and am an easy to capture prey, and Twitter arranged the hit order as a result, having had Monroe’s confirmation that I am hurt bad, can‘t get to the mailbox, and am limping in pain.

This is the first parts of the hit order from yesterday.

Here, Paski’s shirt has a hole in the side. That is representative of me, the victim marked for take out. They have not decided how to do the hit yet, just the order to to a “Tiger Woods Hole in One w/Leg Injury on the back of a Grand Jury notice in the mailbox”

https://twitter.com/ABCPolitics/status/1364637337045590017

This is not well known in circles outside of Hollywood DC terrorism, but I know what that spiral staircase is, that is a “Mitt Romney & The Mormons at Red Rocks”, is the same as “Allah & The Virgins at the Hollywood Bowl” terror comm. That puts Mitt Romney’s signature on the hit at my house.

There is a lot talk about “The Saudi King” in today’s 2-25-2021 WH Press Briefing, and all of that is about Mitt Romney. There is way too much more to add here, I should not have to solve my own murder, I need an interview from US national security and some medical attention.

https://twitter.com/NatGeoTravel/status/1364590974400421891

This below means: “Old Knowledge came out of the China Hutch” means old Christian secrets are exposed, is specific to Heroin use and Heroin driven terror soldiers. Ultimately the “China needs to be hidden away, deleted” is what that is presented on Twitter for.

https://twitter.com/CNN/status/1364762178079842306

This one is simple: “Stone Take Out”

https://twitter.com/CNN/status/1364621187238793218

There is more I need to find, I am having trouble finding Psaki’s Wardrobe change yesterday where she took off the dress with the hole in it, and put on a black & white dress with a Chevron Print Design feature on the bust of the dress. That is when the means to do the hit at my house was decided to me a “Black & White Sheriff ‘Shove Ron’ Build Back Heart Attack, Better American Rescue Plan” (Ron Howard’s Master Class Signature went on the hit order at that time.)

There is much more, dozens of ingredients to the hit order with those two deputies as the set-up and potential carry out order operatives are available to find on Twitter over the past 24 hours, and, are also contained in Music Industry Promotional Email today from Kramer, Robert Keeley, Eastwood Guitars, Premier Guitar Magazine, Vintage King Audio, D’Angelico new York, AMS, and Zzounds Music, all of them have put a signature onto the Twitter Presidential command to kill me and take down this account, is all still active and ongoing.

I need to find the Psaki Wardrobe Change from yesterday to the black & white “Shovron Dress”, and add it here.

What are the odds that it’s still on Twitter? There were multiple tweets from a variety of major news networks, I think they have all been deleted because it’s too easy to see that it’s a “Shovron“, and Ron Howard does want to go to the gas chamber for Treason for having directed the World Trade Center Collapse in 2001, and, the others he was working with who directed and took part in the attack at the Pentagon that day, also don‘t want to face a firing squad in Texas for their participation in the treason, and Ron is going to sing like a little Twitter Bird, live, at 376 Jackpine on a voyeur channel, when the real police find him.

Ron‘s friends will do it for free, coming soon, to a war theater near you.

There is no where to go Ron.

Either the real police find you, and you get the gas chamber, or, your friends at the Pentagon find you, and they make it hurt at the One Hour Martinizer at 520 Jackpine.

That was a bad idea Opie.

=====================

Twitter, says, that FOX news says, that Mitt Romney says, that all of the GOP is signing the contract on the hit to kill me at my house:

https://twitter.com/FoxNews/status/1364533033806663684

This is all because I asked the White House to send some help. I informed of the mass murders, again, to the White House ... I think I have made about ten or twelve official reports to the White House  over the course of time since Gearge W. Bush was president, and have made at least two tries to reach each of the US Presidents since Bush, they sent confirmation of receipt. Obama sent a little bug that deleted the email receipt, and Joe Biden sent the exact same one, but I still have the receipt the White House sent, last time I looked. They all want to play stupid, as though they did not recieve any important news about US Takeover by a Canadian terror army the uses poison gasses to kill the US Citizens so the Canadians can replace the US citizens.

The reason for that, the reason that the WH won‘t send help is that everyone of the elected officials in DC and all of the State Governors were all “elected” by Canadians who are using the names of millions of murdered US Voters.

All of the US Government was elected by murderers, who are also impostors.

That is why there has been no help sent to stop the terrorism.

911 Emergency Phone Service is manned with Canadian terror soldiers and SAG actors who are waiting there to dispatch assassins to anyone who reports terrorism, murder, poison gas, etc.

Same at FBI.Tips.Gov. It’s manned with terror soldiers. When I make a report there, assassins come to my house to kill me.

I have made a dozen or so attempts to get help from FBI. I called a few times, and was attacked by state police who filled me with tasers. The taser guns have two darts, they used the two darts, then went back to the squad car to get another taser gun, and shot those two darts at me when I telephoned FBI.

I went to FBI in Medford in Person twenty years ago, that did not work for getting any help when the terror army was murdering the Fourth Graders at Manzanita Elementary School by taking the students on one-way feild trips, the buses returned without any kids on them.  I think I remember Celine Dion was on one of those buses to animal park in Eugene or Salem Oregon area.

no one will help.

The celebrity women are too pretty, and they serve the terrorism by distracting any real police that might do an investigation. no one is going to arrest Celine Dion, even if she is on the bus where no students returned from the field trip.

That is the kind of services that SAG can provide to the murders. As long as Antonio Bandaras and Vanna White are around, there will be no investigation, just a hotel room by the hour is all that will happen for entertaining federal investigators.

==========

5:38 pm:

This part here takes the Psaki involvment to Angela Merkles doorstep, then, it takes another step to D’Angelico Guitars of new york.

Today’s WH Press Brief included Psaki saying “There is a Range on the Table”. This Tweet says the range is between -24 and 18, is German, is nation wide, if think about what the tweet really is suggesting, nation wide is the message, German is the nation. The Range is on the table, that cannot be good. Go listen to Press Secretary Jen Psaki for yourself from today, that press brief was live as the sheriffs came to my house, they had a live view of what I was doing on my computer as I was arranging the photos, getting them from the hijacked Yahoo mail, and saving them after putting the Stone Man stamp on them. The people at the news brief commented about the label I used as I was doing that in Microsoft Paint and commented live in code of that, as it was not expected that I would put a water mark on my photos so Monroe can’t easily steal them to change the story.

https://twitter.com/bbcweather/status/1364595973717123077

Jen Psaki’s Wardrobe change videos that were available yesterday at the same time when she was also wearing that blue/purple dress with the hole in it are all purged in classic Google fashion.

The hole in the side of Paski’s dress means “Pay-Per-View”. The “ShoveRon” Black & White dress she changed into videos are all gone, not available to see on Twitter today.

The terror nieghbors are coninueing to release airborne poison gasses right now and all day. My symptoms are worsening.’

My vision was nearly perfect this morning, but now I can barely see, Monroe’s are still blowing the poison gasses into the ambient air and around my house.

Do your own math.

It’s no wonder why there are no reports of real terrorism anywhere other than on this Tumblr account, no one can survive unless they have the kind of knowledge that I do, that the nitrous gas is flammable, but this other gas that causes the circulation problems and rash, and leg swelling, I don’t think is flammable.

I suspect A-1 Exterminators on 7th Street in Grants Pass to be a source of the so called “Boutique Gasses” the terror army has developed, and also “Blue-Star Gas” on Pleasant Valley Road across from the Moose Lodge in Merlin Oregon located on the rail road track that comes by on Russell road.

That train has been running at odd hours, is way off the usual schedual, and has been nearly silent when it has been going by since the time I made the terror report to the White House and is likely the source of the poison gas I am experiencing the poor vision and leg circulation symptoms from. The train tracks are less than 1600 feet away from my house. They use gas tanker cars to release gas along the track, and they have special vehicles that can ride on train tracks, then ride on paved roads to disappear into freeway traffic, refill, and start over again in Merlin at the rail crossing at Pleasant Valley Road next to “Blue-Star Gas” which is labelled as a propane dealer, has a lot of pressure tanks for carrying airborne gasses.

This looks like orders to use the rail road to release gas in the neighborhood.

https://twitter.com/ABC/status/1365105999896408067

The poison gas symptoms on my leg have increased from swelling at the right foot and shin area with a substantial very itchy rash on my shin and calf, to both feet are swollen now, I can’t feel my foot on the right when I try to walk, it feels icy cold on my foot, is burning intensity all inside my whole right leg, and the rash on my shin is making tiny blisters that pop and ooze a clear liquid. There is no where I can go for medical services.

US Citizens cannot get medical treatment in COVID USA. It’s a slaughter, not a virus.

US Population is being snuffed out like bugs in a jar, by the government that was hijacked by terrorists long ago. They have been taking over hospitals for decades in preparation to roll out Corona Virus, where “boutique” poisons make the symptoms as Twitter promotes the fear and concern that makes the people go to the hospitals where Ron Howard kills them on camera, and Nancy Sinatra casts a look-a-like replacement from Canada.

Betty White and Tom Hanks do the hosting at the awards celebrations, while Metallica and MegaDeath play as the musical guests at the events.

==================

When someone reports terrorism and points out who the murderers are, all the murderer needs to do is claim that the person is stalking them, and in the courtroom the Judge always sides with the plaintiff on that, and the defendant who needs to reach help to stop the murders is ordered by the courts that they are no longer able to use the name of the murderer publicly.

That is one of the ways the courts serve the terrorism, they can make sure that the murders name is not spoken, revealed, written, or otherwise mentioned. Meanwhile the terror murders continue while the eye-witness is persecuted, held captive in their home, forced into silence and ultimately killed and replaced by a SAG or Canadian terror operative.

The courts will effectively force me to delete this whole account with that stalking order if I am told not to say the names of the people who are killing me with poisons, shooting at me daily, holding be captive for decades.

=========

7:51 pm:

As it stands right now, these listed items below are some of the pre-arranged scenarios that are already in place for a “Ivanka Trump Opportunity Zone attack on a Jesus Gauntlet”

This Gauntlet is planned with events all in place for an attempt to kill me, all include set-up for a frame of some crime they will say I did, and all include the author of this account is not harmed. Instead, it will be said the someone else was killed, and a stand-in replacement will take control of this account. The way it sits right now, the account is set-up in advance for a court ordered deletion, where my replacement look-a-like will delete the account because the Judge ordered it due to so many mentions of so many terror soldiers and terror leaders all over the world.

The “new me” will just access the account controls after I am killed by a rock star bailiff in disguise, and no further mention of it will be made after that.

USA will lose.

Terrorism and murder, slavery and captivity will prevail.

Court day for stalking order.

Groceries at the Walmart.

Drivers License renewal at Beacon Ave DMV. They will say I need a vision exam for corrective lenses.

The Eye-Doctor Visit is one I need to survive.

Then, back to the DMV again if I survive the Eye-Doctor.

Dr, Visit at the terror SAGClubMed fake doctor at Pain Specialists of Southern Oregon,

Walgreen’s if I survive, if not, the Rock Star Bailiff picks up my prescriptions increased to “MAX: Maximum Allowable per Medicare Part-D Rules” so that SAG Musicians can get high on a disabled guys medicine.

There is a day I need to go to JP Morgan Chase Bank every year, the bastards know that I need to do record keeping, and created a situation where I must go to the Chase Bank rather than do any other way of doing the record keeping I am required to do, Carpenters Union participates in that one every year, and they want their share of the loot when I am killed also. Los Angeles Carpenters Pension Trust specifically.

Centurylink has those trenching markers out front, so I have to survive that when the start digging.

There is Grand Jury they say I am forced to participate in. That is really just for the successful assassin to go check in with the sheriff office and Courts when they kill me, but also they do take out work at both places.

The Pacific Power Corporation Asplundhe Tree Service Power Line Easement Inspection and “Standing Dead & Proximity Trimming” event at my house is in place if I survive some of those other “Jesus Gauntlet” scenario’s.

that makes nine or ten major events that I need to survive and a few small ones.

So, that, plus survive the usual daily attacks and poisonings.

And worst of all ... I need to get my mail out of the mailbox, walk down my driveway past the Monroe’s terror cell, and make it back to my house alive during that time frame, and beyond that if I am able to survive the Jesus Gauntlet this next two months or so.

So, fair warning, I am not likely to make it through these pre-arranged Ivanka Triump Opportunity Zone murder scenario’s. Each one of those listed events has at least one written screenplay to use as a basis for the attack plan. The screenplays have all been done thousands of time by the terror cells who run the murder scenario’s. They have it down to a science for killing most unsuspecting US Citizens who simply are trying to run some errands, do some shopping, deal with some banking, go to a doctor appointment, or were roped into having to appear in a court hearing. Most don‘t make it back from the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

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8:41 pm:

Trending on Twitter now:

It’s a command order from Google high command (Vatican Choir; Amp Guru; Kauai Ranch Members of “The Green‘s of Olde Three Ply” terror cell; and the Pope) to do a “Ben Hur” or a version of that one movie about Jesus I forget what it’s called, or, “Faces of Death” (That one has been in discussion all day coded into the Twitter news stories from most of the Verified Accounts I read. Go look for the photos in news today featuring famous people making funny faces, means “Jesus Face Toast”, translates to “Christian Cinema” “Krysten Sinema” today)

The “Christian Cinema” command order is to produce a wicked snuff movie, one that is equivalent of the one they made at north Valley High School in around 2003 - 2004 or so, when the students were forced to do a Olympic Style Competition, were killed at the various events, each event was transformed into some kind of medieval contraption at the Decathlon ... it was forever known as the “Decapathon” by the surviving students at the school. The movie is called “The Making of Ben Hur” I am pretty sure, is composed of about 200 high school students being horribly murdered with machinery all disguised as part of the Decathlon track & field events. The people that made the movie had very expensive professional movie making equipment including the kind of “Rabbit Cam” that are used at a Dog Race Race Track, the thing the dogs chase after around the track, is on a rail. That was used at the “Hurtles” event, where the “Hurtles” were regular hurdles fitted with blades that spring out as the running high school student tried to clear the obstacles on the track at the Junior Varsity Football Field at the school. The students were laying in the track with severed limbs as that rabbit went around from victim to victim to get the best angle for the movie that was produced that day.

I am talking about dead high school students here, and the movie that was made of their murders.

no one cares about US High School Students, or disabled people, or elderly people in the care homes who cannot possibly defend against James Hetfeild when he is killing them to get high on pain meds.

Christian Cinema (Krysten Sinema) is a unpleasant thing to see this evening on Twitter.

Do you remember the final scenes of Braveheart? On that stage where he was disemboweled? That is a real thing that is done in Oregon when people are tortured at 520 Jackpine next door to my house.

So, Twitter is still Tweeting, that means no help is ever to come to Oregon, or anywhere, they are going to keep doing the slaughter, and keep making movies of the murders.

Trending on Twitter: “Christian Cinema”

https://twitter.com/search?q=Sinema&src=trend_click&vertical=trends

=============

9:23 pm:

In other news:

This thing here reminds me of my visit to the Dole Pineapple Plantation in Hawaii. I think it’s close to the Maui Isthmus. There is a maze/labirynth there sort of like that snow maze there.

At Dole, there are assassins that shoot at people in the maze from tower sort of structures that are in there. The shooting does not start until the marked victims are deep in the maze, it takes about an hour to make it out of there.

Also, that trap door I sometimes mention that  is in the floor of the sheriffs office in Josephine County, where there is a chair that tips over, and dumps the unsuspecting sheriff visitor down into the tunnels that are below the sheriffs office and go all under the whole city of Grants Pass Oregon.

That trap door works with the same kind of mechanisms as does the table on the marble maze game called “Labyrinth”. The trap door tips over one direction, then another direction, and the victim who is seated at the sheriff’s desk is dumped into a hole under his office on F Street behind the Walmart.

The man who built that door is the same man who’s wife made the exploding statue that blew up a big bus, and a number of people who were on it, a deputy Strohmeyer, Frank Skraw sheriff of Klamath Falls was on that bus for awhile, maybe he exploded on it, some deputies from Grants Pass were on it, and some from Jackson county were also on the bus that exploded in Medford at the Sears a few years ago, February 7 2017 I think is was.

Any way, the man that built the sheriff office trap door in the floor, was Dan Fauley, former address 344 Tunnel Creek Road in Hugo area. Dan’s wife Lynn made the exploding C-4 Statue, I was supposed to have been put on that bus.

I wrote about all that stuff before, it’s all been documented for many years, no one cares.

Dan Fauley also built the remodel work that was done at the Washington Ave Post Office Facility on the corner of Hillcrest Ave. at the front entrance after the place exploded once long ago. There are no reports of any explosion happening there, but the entrance and other parts of that building did blow up. Dan Fauley did the remodel work. I think he transformed what used to be the lobby rest room into some other kind of holding pen for keeping captive victims inside of where that rest room used to be in the Post Office Lobby on Washington Ave. That place is called the “Postal Annex” by most of the older local terror soldiers and is “The Stork” terror cell HQ for this area. The name “Postal Annex” is a decoy, detour, road block, distraction service put in place by the terror army. When someone asks about the “Postal Annex” while trying to report terrorism to the Postal Inspector General in Portland Oregon, the Inspector General denies that such a place exists at all, they claim that there is no postal office facility there on Washington Ave, and that the person making the report about what they saw should contact the Oregon Better Business Bureau in Salem Oregon instead. Inspector General claims that the place is a private company and is not a USPS facility.

The Inspector General insists that the only 97526 Post Office is on the corner of  6th & G Streets in Grants Pass.

Oregon is a breeding ground of terrorism, it’s a training center, the whole state is a place where “Terror Policy” and “Models of Terror Systems of Murder” are perfected, and then duplicated, rolled out the same in other cities around the world.

https://twitter.com/CNN/status/1365158181098442752

For some perspective about how long Oregon has been hijacked, by whom, when and where killing systems were installed, and how to find the responsible people, you need only study the boat ramps on the Rogue River from Shady Cove to Galice Oregon.

Almost all of the boat ramps are installed backwards.

Most of the boat ramps are secluded, that also is part of the planning of the backwards boat ramps. That seclusion assists the terror army to take victims at the backwards boat ramps on the Rogue River. The boat ramps are all installed such that as you back the boat into the water, the ass end of the boat is directed into oncoming river flow. The boat, trailer, truck, dog, wife in the passenger seat, ice chest and fishing gear all go down river as a result of backwards boat ramps on the Rogue River. There is always a two foot tall cliff under the water where the trailer wheels are at as the boat should begin to start to float. When the trailer wheels fall off that little cliff, the boat is still attached to the trailer, and the trailer to the truck that pulls it. The current is very strong, and inexperienced boaters go down river every time with all of their stuff.

Three Boys Towing is just around the bend, in the tow truck, waiting to get word from the “Friendly Canadian Fly Fisherman who is at every boat ramp tying flies” at the side of each boat ramp, he is there with his wife waiting for tourists to launch a boat, and calls Three Boys Towing as soon as the trailer and truck are under water while using the nitrous oxide to capture the boat owner as he is trying rescue his wife, kids, boat, motor and trailer.

Three Boys gets all of that stuff out of the water, they do it every day, no problems. Then, DMV makes the necessary VIN changes after some Lithia Dodge mechanics do a cleaning, get the water out of the carburetor, and, title switch, and licensing is transferred to some other person if needed. If not, then an attack team takes all of that stuff back to the victims home to prey on their family and friends, and the terror army grows exponentially that way, in fifty states where the tourist boaters come from.

The boat ramps are state wide like that. The boat is not supposed to go ass end into the oncoming current, the ramp is supposed to go with the current as the boat is launched into the water, which also allows that the boat goes into the current to put it back on the trailer, as it should be.

It’s not the way should be though, it’s all backwards.

All of the boat ramps have some metal brackets, rebar, chunks of iron just below the surface of the water, and at the sides of the ramp, all of them have an accident waiting to happen built in to them, and the hospital never has been close by, even before they were all hijacked, so, it’s all for terror advance of Global Domination, has been there a long time at the boat ramp, installed by Kitzhaber government.

=================

11:20 pm:

Please send help to Oregon.

I haven‘t opened my door yet today, presumably that paper those fake sheriff’s brought is still on the front porch.

I don‘t know the details the fake stalking order says.

There were two time today after that when terror soldiers where hiding under my kitchen window, they are waiting for me to open the door, but that is not unusual, waiting under the window is unusual, they usually don‘t make so much noise like today, so, they wanted me to open the door. That was when the blurry vision gas was thickest this afternoon.

I am not going to get the mail until my leg feels good enough to walk on it without as bad as does now, so, no local conditions will be happening tonight.

There are no signs of helpful people, around here you get a visit from a sheriff only to make trouble, make life more difficult, to bring the victim into the bottleneck kill zone at the courthouse where the fingernail clipper is taken away so the rock star in disguise bailiff can use the sword on a unarmed disabled citizen in the fake hearing.

They don‘t do law enforcement, public safety, or national security work in Oregon.

Please send help. Please send US Military. Bring your own hospital. Stay away from local authorities.

[lovelyirony]

Hello friend! I'm in a mood and just feel like reading something sad. Could you pretty please maybe write some sad winteriron? Maybe something to do with terminal illness but it's up to you!

Being human means that there are many things that could happen to you and you can’t help it. 

Like cancer. 

Or being hit by a bus. 

Maybe a heart condition that you didn’t know about until you were thirty-two, had weird chest pains, and then found you didn’t have genetic testing done and neither parent told you about any extensive medical history because they both were estranged from the family. 

Okay. That was specific. 

But Tony was laying in a hospital bed and the doctors told him that he wouldn’t live past forty and he would die of heart failure. 

He feels like he should be hit harder by this. He only has eight years left to live. He shouldn’t be in his kitchen making eggs, he should probably be hysterically calling Rhodey and Pepper and Happy and asking them about funeral arrangements and what he’s going to do and quite possibly if spending the extra money to get the executive suite at the fancy hotel in Switzerland is worth it. 

Except he doesn’t want to. 

Death is a messy process. Not for him, they assured him of that. But everyone asks you questions and your loved ones. You have to figure out where to bury someone if they didn’t do it beforehand. Sometimes you have debates about cremation. Other times about how much you want to spend on a casket. 

He really doesn’t want to look at Rhodey or Pepper or Happy when they talk about that because he knows that their faces will break into tears and he will see the tear tracks when they go home to their houses and cry some more. 

Nonsense. 

If he can hide it, then he will. He doesn’t want to be a bother, it would be...unfortunate. 

Besides. He’s lonely at the top, and there’s no climbing back down the mountain. He won’t pull a Scrooge and get visited by three ghosts. 

So he lives. 

He pulls some risky moves, but nothing that makes Pepper have the “are you up to something serious that could potentially cause my midlife crisis to go off-schedule” talk. 

Again. 

He donates more money to charities and helps people pay off medical bills and walks around New York late at night to wonder why he’s going to die in eight or maybe even seven years instead of the proposed twenty to thirty. (What? He wasn’t going to be too generous, he knew himself.) 

Tony wonders sometimes if he will meet someone and they will make him want to live so much more than he can. It will be like those romantic dramas with rainfall and hair plastered to foreheads and passionate kisses that leave some of the older women teary-eyed and wishing that their husband would do something like that. 

But he’s a genius, so he knows statistics like the back of his hand. 

There will be no one. 

Eight turns into seven. He celebrates by getting absolutely slammed on New Year’s Eve and wakes up to the shittiest radio station blaring. He’s pretty sure they’re playing Maroon 5, which fucking ugh. 

New Year, new resolutions. He doesn’t bother to make one. 

“Why not? You usually make a joke one,” Rhodey says. 

“We are all going to die,” Tony answers. “Why make a resolution if I don’t want to? If I were to die in a year, it wouldn’t really matter.” 

“Okay Lord Byron,” Rhodey says, rolling his eyes. “You want Hot Topic giftcards for your birthday? Huh?” 

Tony laughs. 

Rhodey always knows how to make him laugh. 

Tony doesn’t know how he’s going to make Rhodey laugh when he’s dead. So that’s a breaking point where he stares at the wall and starts to write random memories down, like the time they snuck up onto a hotel’s roof to see the city wake up and the wind chapped their lips and Tony swore that he’d never leave Rhodey. 

Except he is. 

And he realizes that he needs to let Pepper and Rhodey and Happy know that he loves them a lot. So he starts the letters. 

He writes a letter to Pepper to remind her about how much she regrets getting light blue nail polish every single time she gets a manicure, and she should never get it. (Yes, even for a wedding she’s in, get something, anything other than that.) 

He writes a letter to Happy that is basically just wondering about how they can troll asshole celebrities that they know. He doesn’t know, but maybe he will find some dirt so that if Happy ever falls on dire times, he will have some extra cash flow coming in. Not that Tony would let that happen, but say Happy ever did. Maybe someone stole his bank information. Who knows what will happen in seven or six years. 

Summer still sucks. He thinks maybe he’ll like it more, now that he knows that his heart is going to quit. But it still smells like piss and garbage on the streets of New York, people are still blasting shitty music and riding bikes too dangerously, and he still feels gross by two p.m. when he goes outside to face the world. 

Not even the treat of shaved ice helps this. 

“At least I won’t have to face another one in seven years,” Tony murmurs. “Thank god for that.” 

Seven turns into six. 

It’s around this time when an attractive redhead shows up at his office, bends down a bit lower than necessary, and Tony gets the feeling that SHIELD should really train their agents a bit better if they want something out of him. 

He organizes a meeting with Fury, walks in, and states that they cannot afford him. 

“You know that your help would be particularly useful,” Fury says. 

“For you to get what?” He asks. “Don’t bullshit me with some answer about compassion. Peggy Carter was kind, but she wasn’t a damned saint.” 

“There are new...developments.” 

Like the fact that they’ve found Captain America. And Bucky Barnes didn’t fall off into a random ravine, so the four different conspiracy theory documentary videos that Tony watched last year were about five hours of wasted time. 

They need somewhere to stay. Fury wants Tony to foot the bill. 

“What, can’t ask the government for funding?” Tony asks. “I’m sure if they can up the budget for military every year, that covers Cap and his old pal. Hell, I bet they’ll even open up the champagne fridges.” 

“They don’t know about it.” 

“And why would that be? Because you’d rather have idols to yourself?” 

It’s a low-blow. But Tony agrees to take them in. He just doesn’t want to see them, notably because his father was a bit of a Captain America fan, Tony had had a crush on the former sharpshooter when he was a younger guy, and it was all kinds of messed up. 

But he gives them their own little apartment, one of his safehouses. 

“This ain’t little,” Steve mutters to himself, unpacking a box of plates. Natasha has been nice enough to show them around and tell them about the changes she finds relevant. She forced them to listen to what she called ‘the goddess of pop’ in the car, and Bucky nearly clawed out the stereo after “Toxic” came on. 

“Fuckin’ palace,” Bucky mutters. “Who’s is this?” 

“A man in high places,” Natasha answers. “He doesn’t want to be known. Doesn’t exactly play well with others.” 

She leaves them be, and there’s so much that has changed. Steve is still looking for any sign of the past he can find in Bucky, and Bucky...

He’s not who he used to be. He doesn’t remember half the shit that Steve does. Perks of having your brain so fried up that you can barely remember your middle name. 

They eat together in silence. 

“I guess...I guess we have to figure out who we really are,” Steve says. “Because you’re not who I remember, and I’m not...I guess I’m not either.” 

Bucky nods. 

“Do you reckon we’ll like going out dancing?” 

The answer is a strong no, although Steve has to say the drinks have improved a hell of a lot more. He likes the ones that come with the small paper umbrellas. He doesn’t know where they get them, but it gives him an idea for an art project. 

Tony doesn’t hear much about the wonder boys. He doesn’t want to, not really. Natasha just says they’re getting more and more adjusted and she has evidence of Steve Rogers going clubbing. 

“Oh my god,” Tony groans. “Romanoff, do not.” 

“It’s funny.” 

“I don’t wanna know.” 

“What, you jealous that you’re not dancing with him?” 

“Hardly. Blonde and beefy isn’t my type.” 

“Then what is?” 

“Classified.” Tony answered. “Now, is there anything else you want SHIELD to suck out of me?” 

“Well, my manicure funding is getting rather low...” 

Tony snorts, but points towards the door. 

His chest hurts. It’s been happening. He’s actually gotten used to it. In a way, he’s more concerned when it doesn’t hurt. He went to another specialist. They say his death sentence is signed, even if they don’t word it like that. Here’s how it is usually worded: 

“I have a colleague who works at insert-clinic/hospital-here...I can refer you to Dr. So-and-So?” 

They can. But it’s another list of referrals of so-and-so’s and clinics and appointments at the most inopportune times. 

All for nothing, because Tony knows that he can’t be fixed. The human body sometimes works like a machine. But it’s not one. It’d be like Tony calling a dog a wolf. Similar, but no one wants to bring a wolf into their house as a pet. 

He gets a phone call from someone named Deputy Director Hill. 

-

He needs a new arm. 

Barnes needs a new arm. Of course he does. Tony should’ve expected that, of course. Hydra isn’t exactly known for revolutionizing prosthetics or being particularly kind to their projects that they work on. So Tony automatically has a one-up. 

He gets Barnes to come to this mechanic garage, surrounded by old tin signs and vintage cars that cost more than most of the monthly rent of penthouses in New York. 

Bucky does a double-take. 

“Howard?” 

“I hope not,” Tony answers. “Hop up on the chair for me, please. I’m getting you a new arm.” 

“This is fine,” Barnes automatically spouts. Tony can see the damage from here, and can even point out that the arm’s reaction time is probably the worst it has been currently. 

“If you want to stick to your Great Depression ideals, then by all means be my guest and go bitch in a grocery store about prices,” Tony responds dryly. “But if you want an arm that’s gonna be actually good, then sit.” 

So he does. 

Tony looks incredibly similar to his father. But there’s something different about him. Something softer, almost. Bucky didn’t know Howard nearly as well as others did, but he knew that Tony wasn’t his father. 

“How are you adjusting to the city?” Tony asks. 

"Still the shithole we all know and love,” Bucky swears. “I think the rats got bigger.” 

“They did. It’s amusing and horrifying at the same time. You ride the subway yet?” 

“Yes and I’ve come to terms with it. Lots of new things to learn about it.” 

Barnes’ visits become more frequent. They talk about New York stuff. Tony tells him all about the fun events that have happened that he missed while he was doing time as an icicle. 

It’s nice, talking to him. Tony finally has someone who understands fatalistic humor and doesn’t respond with 

“That’s scary, Tony.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Bucky just says “cheers” and decides to tell Tony about the time he nearly died in 1992 because he lost his footing on the Eiffel Tower. 

Tony laughs, and laughs harder than he thought he had in a long time. 

-

Six turns into five. 

Bucky gets closer, and they have...something. He’s not sure what it is yet, but he knows that they go on breakfast dates most of the time and he knows the coffee orders by heart. 

“I think you’ve found someone,” Pepper says, teasing. “Look at you.” 

“Yeah, look at me,” Tony murmurs. 

He has five years left. That’s plenty of time to date someone and break up, right? 

Except. 

It’s...wonderful to date Bucky. They go all over, have fun trying the shittiest restaurants in town, and even get Steve to get out more and socialize with the group. 

They date and celebrate holidays together and have fun candles and--

Five turns into four. 

“Not that bad,” Tony whispers to himself when he’s getting ready for bed. 

“What’s not bad?” Bucky asks. 

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Tony says. “Just got a new toothpaste.” 

They watch It’s a Wonderful Life and Tony can’t really focus, not when he’s thinking about the fact that he still hasn’t picked out a design for his urn. 

Not when he realizes that he needs to break up with Bucky and make it a whole big scene so that no one will talk to him. It has to be about two years before the date, he thinks. 

He goes to another Dr. So-and-So. They say he might actually have one more year, but who knows. 

He doesn’t. 

But he wakes up with Bucky every day and they make breakfast, and he thinks that maybe he could tell him? Maybe? 

The words get stuck in his mouth. 

He can’t. 

He meets with his lawyer for the will. 

“Why making sudden changes?” 

“Just like to shake things up,” Tony says with a smile. “Never know what’s going to happen, right?” 

“You are right about that,” the lawyer says. He’s a bit uncomfortable. Tony Stark looks at him like he knows that his life is short and that something else will come up. But it’s not the lawyer’s job to ask if things really are okay, and it’s not like Tony would tell him anyway. 

So he makes the changes to the will. 

Tony looks at Bucky as he’s napping, face so peaceful. 

He can’t ruin that. 

#lovelyirony writes #for some reason tumblr never lets me put in a 'read more' link until like after i've done all this shit so here's to hoping this works #winteriron #:( #hope this fits the sad theme anon #tony stark #bucky barnes #rhodey #pepper potts #happy hogan #steve rogers

[alexafaie-asd]

Just some me rambling stuff.

Did some colouring for the first time in ages. Was kinda inspired by seeing some artists on youtube who I follow doing stuff for Inktober and drawing isn’t something I’m good at (and practising it isn’t something I enjoy so...) so I thought to colour in with stuff that could be classed as “ink” at least loosely. Nothing fancy, just some of the pages from a daily colouring calender I got in 2016 which I had planned to do each day, but just like everything I try I managed to keep to the “schedule” for like a week or two at the most before it collapsed and then I felt bad about not finishing it. So of course I got a more complicated colouring calender the next year because I never fucking learn.

Anyway... had a bit of sort of fun maybe colouring in a couple of pictures.

I’ve been feeling a little bit bleugh the past few days since however long ago Thursday was (I don’t know what day it is right now). I got the response from the PIP people about my Mandatory Reconsideration. I spent absolutely ages writing up the letter to explain just how the assessor had misrepresented what I said or just outright ignored my difficulties, pointed out the inaccuracies with the factual stuff (as opposed to anything that could be considered to be that word that means “different people might see it different ways”) and also explained how their failure to treat my difficulties as real was discrimination against my particular disabilities (they’re so called hidden/invisible ones like mental health issues) especially with how they used “high functioning” to claim that I can’t struggle with the things which they agreed I struggled with last time I got assessed and nothing has changed since then except that I have an extra diagnosis now.

Their response was rude, blamed the length of time it took on me even though most of the time was taken up by me waiting on them responding, giving me the face to face appointment date etc. And in response to me telling them how stressful the frequent reassessment periods are and how much anxiety they provoke & how they worsen my conditions, they said “Although the health Professional has recommended a 2 year review period, as you are no longer entitled to PIP then there is no review period required.”  Previously I was awarded PIP at the appeals stage because they found my doctors note that they claimed didn’t arrive in the post until then, even though we sent it recorded delivery and we knew for a fact that it was signed for less than a week after it was sent out. Without the doctor’s note they had tried to say that I didn’t qualify, but with the doctor’s evidence I suddenly did. In this letter they are saying that as the findings of the current assessment are “so different” than that of what was decided at appeals before, they’re using the more recent assessment as they believe its a more “accurate” reflection of my condition and so “supersedes” the previous findings. Except the assessor this time made HUGE mistakes and that’s what I wrote in to explain. But they are treating the assessor’s report as medical evidence even though she was a nurse with no training other than the 10 day course they send them on (and I’ve seen the information for autism - the PDF they are given as recommended reading but not required, is outdated from the early 90s and still uses terms which are no longer in use diagnostically). They are placing more weight on her interpretation of what my difficulties are than the actual medical specialists who have dealt with me personally.

My boyfriend phoned up to complain and ask to start the appeals process (they didn’t include the information on how to appeal in with my letter and the whole letter was written as if I wouldn’t even try and should be glad I no longer qualify as if I’m suddenly not disabled because they say I’m fine). He asked how even with the information and corrections we sent in, they still came to the same conclusion, most of which was a direct copy and paste from the original assessment report. It turns out that because we had complaints about the assessor’s report, they went back to ATOS to get a new person there to look over my case. “So why did they find the same thing with the new/corrected info given to them?” my boyfriend asked. They had even repeated the bit on how I apparently “was not offered alternative treatments or therapy, suggesting you don’t need them” even though we pointed out that in the letter we had originally sent in to them, the people I saw at the multidisciplinary assessment after my autism diagnoses had written that there were two other meds I could try for my bipolar disorder and that they had put in a recommendation, sent to my GP, that I be referred to one on one talking therapy. He said that surely they must have seen us point that out in the letter I sent in asking for the mandatory reconsideration. And it turns out that none of that information was sent to ATOS. So the new person at ATOS only saw what the first person at ATOS wrote about me and came to the same conclusion. When we pointed out that it is the PIP team who are meant to balance things out, they just deflected all the blame to ATOS and said the matter was “out of their hands” as ATOS is a third party organisation so they don’t have any control over what they do. BUT THEY CHOSE TO EMPLOY THEM TO DO THE ASSESSMENTS!! So yeah, they do have control over what ATOS do and are entirely responsible for any outcome if they choose to base the entire thing on what one person who met the claimant for less than 2hrs has to say about what the claimant struggles with.

Its ridiculous! How the hell did they think it was ok to totally ignore what I sent in other than to belittle me when I expressed how stressed and anxious the whole process made me and how demeaning it felt. Their response was just to demean me some more. When asked what provisions there were at the appeals stage (which involves standing up in court in front of three judges who are total strangers) for people who are autistic and struggle in social situations, especially with speaking in public, and they said that they had no idea whatsoever, but as far as they knew there wasn’t anything special. And that we’d have to contact the courts directly. Not that we have any of those details because nothing was included in with the letter they sent. They couldn’t even get the page numbers correct at the bottom of the pages. The last page was numbered Page 7 of 4. Yes that’s right, there were seven pages out of four. How did they manage to break an autofiling section of a document like that? They take that little care with these assessments they can’t even get the documents to be constructed correctly.

When I got the letter I just totally dissociated from everything I would have been feeling. And so its been a rough few days as bits and pieces of emotion have been popping through and washing over me in waves of feeling really shitty. I’m trying hard not to think about the whole appeals process because I know it scares me shitless and I can’t do anything about it now anyway. But its just so hard to cope with people just dismissing my difficulties. Its ridiculous because the criteria have not changed. In fact they got in trouble with the courts for being biased against people with mental health issues as their disability (focussing only on whether a person could physically do a thing and ignoring their criteria of “requires prompting”) and so were made to make changes to discriminate less. Obviously the major fines and telling off did fuck all. Its just so frustrating because my difficulties haven’t changed (unless they’ve got worse) and previously I was deemed to be entitled, so why should that have changed just because I now have an extra diagnosis that even better explains the problems I have? Like previously they tried to claim that bipolar disorder didn’t cause the particular difficulties I have, so I missed out on points in one area. However now I also have the autism diagnosis, that category I was denied points in before is now the only category that scored any points. So its like they are totally ignoring that I have more than one thing going on, and that previously I was still autistic so if I was entitled then, I should be now!

When we pointed out how they were being discriminatory in my letter, they responded not by apologising for what I felt was discrimination, but by telling me that the “Gray Report” concluded that the “Health Professionals” (from ATOS who do the assessments) are trained to a sufficient degree to do the assessments without bias. So I’m there pointing out bias and being told “no, that can’t have happened, this report we had done says there’s no problem.” Except I have looked it up and Paul Gray, responsible for the reports actually wanted changes like making the assessment report results sent out immediately to claimants, but the government is refusing to do so. So how exactly are they meeting what his report asks of them? They aren’t! The Gray Report says that they need to do more to gain the trust of claimants because they are currently so inconsistent that is confusing at best and detrimental at worst. Like his entire report is basically “some of these changes are positive, but there is so much more that needs to be done such as x, y, and z” and the government has said “ah that means we are perfect and doing no wrong.” Like his report didn’t even look at the assessors in great detail. It just says that they should be trained to an adequate level, not that they are. And that they should be unbiased, again not that they are. So why quote that report at me?

Just.... urgghhh. I’m so sick and tired of having to fight past what I’m sensibly able to do just to get what feels like nowhere. Like they even wrote in response to me saying that my executive dysfunction is so bad that if the washing up needs to be done, and I can’t cope with all the steps required to do that, then I don’t have anything clean with which to prepare and cook food and therefore won’t eat. They wrote that those things are “outside the scope of the assessment criteria” and so won’t be considered as evidence. So because I can’t clean the house and can’t then cook the food, that’s ignored as a reason why I don’t eat the food. I must therefore be able to cope with preparing and eating food unaided all the time. How stupid is that? I also wrote how my sensory sensitivities affect my ability to wash and to brush my teeth, so I’ll go days without brushing my teeth when I can’t cope with those feels (or am too depressed) and they said “brushing teeth isn’t covered under bathing, so we won’t consider that”. Like they are both forms of personal hygiene. Arguably keeping your teeth clean is a MAJORLY IMPORTANT thing which can impact your health in so many ways (like you can die from an infected tooth, or from a gum infection). But it can’t be used to build up a bigger picture about how far reaching my disabilities are?

And they said that the section on being able to communicate only counts if you can physically speak and physically hear what is being said to you. So my sensory processing disorder which affects how my brain perceives auditory information and how it therefore responds to said auditory information? Doesn’t count. So the times when I can’t tell what is being said because there is a fan making noise in the background? Doesn’t count. The times when there are multiple people talking and I can’t pick out the one important conversation and everything blurs into one droning sound that is overwhelming and causes me to avoid social gatherings that involve many people? Doesn’t count. My inability to tell what tone of voice I’m speaking with and inability to correctly modulate my tone of voice appropriately so I fail to communicate effectively due to it? Doesn’t count. My sensory overload causing me to shut down and go nonverbal for long periods of time so I can’t verbally communicate? Doesn’t count. Apparently. Even though in the criteria available online on the government website for how they are meant to assess disabilities for the different categories, it really should count. But all they mean is “are you deaf and dumb”? (Sorry for the old derogatory terms, but that is literally all they seem to think counts and the way they seem to be approaching this).

And just I have all these feels and they are not nice feels. And I’m trying to remain strong and positive, and trying to remember that I’m trying to want to exist. But its so so hard. And just reminds me how much I hate my life and how I hate how noone (in the “noone” kind of way, obviously some people) seems to care how I feel and how I struggle. And it really doesn’t keep me away from feeling suicidal. :(

#actually autistic #discrimination #disability discrimination #hidden disabilities #actually bipolar #actually cPTSD #I don't like feeling bad

[wendyswriting]

Audiology Appointment

I went into some detail in my last entry about it, but not too much. So...

In 2006-2007, I started getting really dizzy and experiencing tinnitus during the day, and had crazy vertigo at night when I was trying to sleep. I went to the doctor who referred me to an ENT. The ENT looked in my ears, talked to me, and diagnosed me with Meniere’s Disease, a disorder of the inner ear. He said the final thing he needed was a hearing test during a vertigo attack, but at the time, the attacks were only at night when no machine or tech was available. He sent me on my merry way.

I went home and researched Meniere’s and while most of it rang true with me, I didn’t feel like I had hearing loss. But he said it was coming, and that scared the living shit out of me, because hands down, I would rather be blind than deaf. Music has such a huge impact on my soul; the thought of losing that was horrifying.

So eventually the vertigo at night pretty well fades away, but the dizzy spells randomly throughout the day continued, plus started peppering in some daytime vertiginous spells. But I dealt with it, just as I dealt with the migraines or tension headaches almost daily, which I have lived with since I was about 7), the fatigue and body aches all the time, joint pain, and all the other shit I live with. It became my normal. I was used to it, though I didn’t like it, nobody could find anything wrong with my lab tests, so clearly I was fine. *eye roll*

Fast forward about 10 years and my PCP (an Internist and the only one who paid enough attention to my symptoms as opposed to my test results, which were always either fine or borderline, and who has since left practicing in his clinic) told me that he suspected I have Secondary Hypothyroidism, and that he wanted me to see an Endocrinologist.

So I went home and I do what I do - I studied it. It was NOT easy to find information on, let me tell you! But what I could find is that a common diagnostic tool for this condition is a brain MRI. I wondered if having one done ahead of time would be a prudent idea, and I don’t remember if I brought it up and he said to see what they wanted to do, or if I just thought about it a lot. I hate that I can’t remember. Not that it matters.

Well, I never did see an Endocrinologist. Life got in the way and I lived with it. It was in the back of my mind, and occasionally I would make steps toward doing so (usually from a push from Kelly), but I never was able to go.

In the mean time, in July of 2016, my dizzy spells and vertigo took a sudden sharp increase. They went from maybe once or twice every day, but for about 5 seconds each, to every few seconds, lasting a few minutes each. I am quite stubborn and it caught my attention but I held off on seeing a doc. I needed to drink more water, I figured, so I did. And it still happened. Well, I must be eating too much salt. That’s it. It’s just the Meniere’s flaring up. Cut the salt and it still happened. Fuck.

But it wasn’t until it happened while I was driving (first time) that I freaked out. It happened twice in as many days and I got really scared. Becca made me promise to see Bee (my new PCP) about it. I did, begrudgingly. She asked me about the Meniere’s and what the ENT put me on for it. I looked at her blankly. “Nothing.” She was appalled. I told her I had no idea there WAS anything I could take for it. Shit, I would have asked about it!

She put me on Meclazine (my THIRD antihistamine daily) and wrote me a referral to see an audiologist. The thing is that the Meclazine pretty much brought me back to baseline for me, so I didn’t know if a trip to the audiologist would even be beneficial. I called their office to discuss it and they said if I was asymptomatic, there wasn’t much point in it, and to call back if I felt worse.

I told Bee and she said fine, for now, but get in to see them anyway when you can. Life happened and the next time I was able was in January. Bee made it clear I had to see them before she would do another refill on the Meclazine, which was making me feel somewhat functional. This scare tactic worked. In I went (amazingly, I was able to get in within 3 weeks, which - for a specialist - is shockingly quick).

We chatted about my symptoms and the audiologist did several hearing and ear-pressure tests. After that portion of the appointment, she said that while it isn’t her place to make or disprove the diagnosis, she truly doesn’t feel that I have Meniere’s. 

She also said (to my great relief) that my hearing was really good (averaging 98%!). 

Then she took me to a darkened room with an adjustable exam table. She had me sit on the table with my legs hanging over, looking at this long, thin LED light bar affixed to a stand. Kind of like this set-up, except I was on the exam table. 

So she put these Virtual reality-looking goggles on my head that have cameras that watch my eyeball movement. I did secretly wonder what my eyes had to do with an audiology appointment, but it turns out there is a fascinating neurological link between the two, in addition to their close physical proximity. 

The goggle cameras watched my eyes while she had me do several tests, all of which required me to hold my head and neck still and use only my eyes (or, for the last four tests, don’t do anything but lay still). First I sat up on the exam table and watched the light bar as a single light scrolled back and forth. It was a red dot and I thought about my cats LOL Then the light jumped around. The bar was then moved vertically and the tests were repeated.

Then back to horizontal. For the next test, it had multiple dots evenly spaced and scrolling from one side to the other rapidly and I had to try to count them. The number didn’t matter, she said, just my eye movement doing so. Then I was to choose a dot at where it originated and follow it until it disappeared. 

Then she closed the lid on the goggles and had me look straight ahead for 10 seconds, then all the way to the right (I could feel the nystagmus when I did so), then back ahead, then all the way to the left (again, I could feel the nystagmus). She moved my head into several different positions, each time repeating this sequence, then moved my body into several different positions, again repeating the sequence with each. She adjusted the neck part of the table upward and repeated the testing.

Then came the weird part.

I heard an air compressor come on. She explained she would be sticking a tube into each ear, respectively, with cold then warm air. So right cold, left cold, right warm, left warm. Each exposure to the forced air would last 60 seconds and it would induce vertigo. She said the symptoms would resolve in a few seconds. I had to keep my eyes open the whole time (save natural blinking), and in between each test we would play a simple alphabet game to distract me from my vertigo.

In went the tube. The cold air felt so weird! And about 10 seconds in it hit me. I grabbed onto the table to keep from falling off the earth. I could definitely feel the nystagmus. Holy shit. She asked me for girls’ names starting with A, then B, then C, etc. I struggled a bit to concentrate but made it through. We got to M and a tiny light in the goggles turned on for me to look at and focus on to help stop the nystagmus. It was hard to focus on it at first, but it did help. I didn’t have any access to a clock, but it felt like it was about 2-3 minutes before we moved on. My vertigo stopped just in time...

On to the left side for cold air. And same thing, about 10 seconds in, BOOM! Oh shit! Clutching the table. The timer and air go off and she asks me for boys’ names starting with A, B, C... etc. I was more disoriented this time and struggled some, but made it through. This time took me longer to recover. Maybe 3-5 minutes?

Next came warm air in my right side. She said it would invoke the same reaction. The air starts and all 60 seconds go by... without vertigo. I didn’t know if this was a good or a bad thing. The timer went off, she pulled the tube out, and BOOM!!! Oh shit... this was worse than the other two combined! I thought I might throw up. She asked for city names starting with A, B, C... I struggled HARD with this one. I was so disoriented! I got to F and said “France... wait... that’s a country... shit... F... Franklinville. There’s probably a Franklinville somewhere... yeah...” and for G “Georgia. Wait, that’s a country too... and a state... G... I don’t know. I just don’t know.” This one was definitely longer to recover. Well over 5 minutes. I wasn’t completely recovered from it when it was time for the last one.

Thank god it was the last one. Jesus.

Warm air, left ear, and I had no idea if it would act like the cold and be 10 seconds in and zoom, or nothing until pull out and then holyshitzoom, or what. With 10 seconds to spare, my life got flipped turned upside down... I wildly grabbed for the wall with one hand and clutched the table with the other in a desperate attempt to stabilize myself. This time she had me count up by threes. “Oh dang it, why does it have to be math? I’m... crappy... at m... math...” I managed to slur. I could barely control my brain, and it was frightening. I heard the words coming out of my mouth and knew some numbers were wrong. It was as if there was a disconnect between my mouth and anything else. I repeated a few numbers. She finally had me stop. Thank god. The light came on in the goggles and I could barely focus on it. It almost made me feel worse to see it bouncing around so. It wasn’t, of course, my eyeballs were, but hey.

I felt my limbs go cold and my mouth started watering. My eyes teared up. I was going to vomit. I took a slow breath in to compose myself and quietly asked “If I have to vomit, where do I do so, please?” I could hear in her voice she was startled as she said, “Oh no! They just moved us into this room today and haven’t moved in a trash can or any bins! Eek! Try and hold it and I’ll see if I can find anything! Keep breathing deep like you have been!”

SOMEHOW I managed to not throw up. I’m amazed. But this is why they have you go NPO! My recovery time for the fourth one was substantially longer than the others. It was a much stronger reaction, too. I apologized for taking so long to recover and she told me it was perfectly fine, to take my time, and that she didn’t have anyone else scheduled that day. Again, estimating time, I probably lay there for a good 15-20 mins before feeling like I could turn on my side toward her. I took a chance opening my eyes and it was ok. 

She rolled back a little on her chair to come into my field of vision and discussed the findings with me.

“The good news is that your hearing is great and your ears are doing really well. Your right side is really close to being considered having a weakness, but it’s right on the border.” “Story of my life, doc. It doesn’t matter how bad I feel, I will test either within normal ranges or borderline. Ugh.” I said. “Well, your left ear is over-performing by about that same amount, so that tells us you may have some equilibrium issues since the ears are sending feedback to the brain at different rates, which can throw everything off.” Then she explained the nystagmus. “When I had you look all the way to the right or left, your eyes did something we call beating, a type of nystagmus.” She went on to explain that it was an abnormal reaction, indicating that the issue isn’t in my ears, but... my brain. She hesitated slightly as she said it. 

“I know it’s scary to hear!” she said apologetically. “Eh. Everything is controlled in the brain in one way or another, right? Besides, I’ve thought there was something askew up there for a while now.” I replied, keeping cool for her benefit. “That’s a good way to look at it!” she said; I could hear relief in her voice. “So we refer to it as a central processing issue. Basically, up in the brain. You need to get to a neurologist. I wish I knew more about it to tell you, but you do need to get referred to a neurologist. What’s interesting about this is that the patients who have this also tend to have a history of migraines.”

I’ve had those since I was 7. Huh.

She showed me a video of my eyes during the testing. Cool! I asked her for a copy of that video emailed to me. She said she will do so. She also said that it’ll take her a week or so to complete her report and send it to my PCP, but when it comes through, to see a neurologist. We talked about available neuro docs in the area.

By this time, my head was pounding (it started hurting at the first air test and progressed) and I took some Tylenol. I probably stayed in there with her for another 5-10 minutes chatting before she asked if I was OK to try standing. I said I was, and we carefully stood me up from the exam table. She walked me to the front door and I thanked her again and headed out. 

When I got to the parking lot and sat in my car, I allowed the shock to hit me.

“I have a problem in my fucking BRAIN....” I mused aloud, astonished. A million questions flooded my consciousness immediately, and I refused to allow myself to acknowledge or answer a single one of them. First things first... call Chris. 

He was asleep and I woke him. I chose not to tell him everything now; he would have bad dreams while I was on the road. I’d wait. Instead I asked him what to bring home for dinner. I then went shopping and got lunch and dinner and headed home. 

After eating, I allowed myself to think a little bit about what happened. It was time for copious amounts of research when I got home.

I got home and sunk onto the couch. Chris and I then talked about all that happened as he prepared dinner. I could tell he was startled but being cautious about letting himself react. 

Then he made a joke about it really actually being all in my head and we laughed. I love that he knows how to make me laugh when I need it the most. I have a feeling I’m going to need that in the coming days going through all of this.

#health #specialist #audiology #brain shit