Showing posts with label disability. Show all posts
Showing posts with label disability. Show all posts

My life is falling apart

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I saw my wife last night.


She was sitting right next to me.

She looked so worried.

I was having an asthma attack, and I leaned into where she normally sits, and when her soft and warm body didn't stop me, I jumped back and she was there, so worried. Then she was gone. Just like that. I want to kill myself. I have no purpose without her. She is what drove me to get better. She's who made sure I could support us. Without her, my life has little meaning. I miss her more than words can describe. She used to tell me "Look, you are stuck with me. Im not going anywhere." usually after a nightmare of her leaving. Now, she is gone.
The therapist said it was most likely a reaction of the trazadone I had just taken, and cortisol on a stressed out mind. Id like to think maybe, just maybe, she was dreaming of me. Probably not.

Ill forgive her
Its ok
I understand
I just need you
Without you, breathing is a chore
Without you, there is no point in getting out of bed
I don't want to eat
or bathe
or anything
To be rejected by the one person who loves you more than anything
The one person who said that no matter what, no matter how sick we were, that they would be there
And for unconfirmed reasons, she's just gone.
I have the phone tied to me at all times, just waiting for a phone call that never comes
Waiting for an email that never arrives
A text message 3 weeks late in arriving
And any day, both our phones will be turned off
And that will be the end, Im sure

To boot, I walked in the door, and Dr. Phil was on, because I leave the sound on the TV for when I wake up, and come home, and he was talking to someone about their PTSD and taking it out on his wife. And I lost it.
I didnt mean for any of this to happen
I was seeking help
So was she.
Why not let us go to counseling?
Why not talk to me?

And then Allsup decided to drop me for disability.
Ill have to become homeless to get any help.
Guess thats the next step.

She was here, and then gone
Maybe next time, we can talk
Maybe next time, she will stay
Dr says that wouldn't be good, for her to appear and talk to me
I don't think I would be too upset.



The Void and The Sun

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"Moon of my Life."
Kahl Drogo
"My Sun and Stars."
Daenerys Targaryen

What do you do when you sun, moon, and stars disappear from your sky? I am so sorry for not keeping this up. The last year has been very bad for Mr and Mrs Zebra. We have been waiting for my disability to come, and we got another denial letter, this time denial for an appeal. Mrs. Zebra had finally gotten into a therapist to cope with her anxiety, and as of Jan 1, had both health and mental health available. This is why we moved here: so we could both have the help we needed. But she couldn't hold on I guess. 

After planning Thanksgiving dinner with close friends, after holding me and telling me how much she loved me, after tell me I was "her big heater" and "I'll see you when you come home" after all of this, I found our home empty of the warmth and happiness that is my Mrs Zebra. Nothing but a note: "I am leaving you. I will not be back. I am safe." I have not heard from her since 9am on 11/27/13. She is avoiding everyone's calls and voicemails. I hope she really is safe. 

After speaking with our doctor, because we share one, all I could come up with was that she was more depressed than she let on. Maybe it is because she didn't want to bother me, or pull me down. I hope some day I will know. But when they changed her meds, she got so much worse. She must be in so much pain, because I know I am. I just want to hold her and stroke her hair and love on her. Her well being is all I care about. I only want to improve myself so I can be the pillar on which she can lean. I want to be her strength when she is weak. 

What do you do when your sun, moon, and stairs are suddenly gone from your life? The gaping maw of a black hole left when best part of you is ripped away with no explanation, no advance warning, and no immediate recourse? Without my love, my darling, I am a shell of a man, condemned to wander the endless void, looking for my lost soul mate. I know people say that you must be your own person, and I think maybe she lost herself in me, but I lost myself in her, weaving myself in her magical fibers, bathing in the wonderment that was her mind and body. When we touch, when I hear her smooth, silky voice, my world is complete. I can die happy each and every time she whispers in my ear "I love you. I will never leave you." She told me over and over I would never come home to this. But I am, and I am left to hope that she will contact me and someday, we can work this out. 

Almost 10 years of being with the most wonderful person I have ever known. She wasn't perfect, but I had learned and was learning to accept her for what she was, and in that she was perfect. -IS- perfect. The maw is so deep, it so fracturing my crushed soul, it feel as if she is lost for good. But if there is to be any repair of the bridge that connected our two hearts, she cannot come home to a broken man: the broken man who didn't realize he had become dependant on her to prop my illness up. No, not again. I am going to a therapist on Monday. I know he cant give me the answers I need. Only she can. But maybe he can help me find the man she married again, and present that to her again some day. Maybe she will get over her pain and anxiety, or learn how to communicate her feelings to those who want her to be happy. All I know for sure is I love her deeply, deeper than the deepest oceans, and I will not give up on us. I will give her the time she needs, and pray to whatever is out there to tell her I love her and miss her. 

What I know is that my sun, moon, and stars are gone. And the void is here. Deeper and darker than ever before. I want to tell her so bad, the feelings I have inside. To borrow from Staind:


My love, 

You're my world, the shelter from the rain
You're the pills that take away my pain
Youre the light that helps me find my way
You're the words when I have nothing to say

And in this world where nothing else is true
Here I am still tangled up in you
I'm still tangled up in you
Still tangled up in you
You're the fire that warms me when Im cold
You're the hand I have to hold as I grow old
You're the shore when I am lost at sea
You're the only thing that I like about me
And in this world where nothing else is true
Here I am still tangled up in you
I'm still tangled up in you
How long has it been since this storyline began
And I hope it never ends and goes like this forever
In this world where nothing else is true
Here I am still tangled up in you, tangled up in you
Im still tangled up in you
Still tangled up in you



Come back, my love, my wonderful wife. The best wife in the world, no matter how hard I was on you. I am working on that, I have been. I promise that I am fixing it. Cushing's or not, I will find a way to not let those rages affect you again. You saw I was working on it. I was getting better, and will get better. If disability wont help me, I will work what I can. I will provide a living for us. I will not let this sickness devour me anymore. I will do anything just to hold you in my arms. Please, my wonderful sweetheart, please talk to me. 

Without your love as my anchor, there is nothing but the void where our story ends. Please, dont let this end like a hollywood tragedy. Lets make this a sappy love story, where we both work on ourselves and come back and talk. Please?

If you can read this, my love, know I will keep the home fires burning. I will move mountains to be with you again. Whatever you need, as long as we can be together. I mean that. 


Really? I mean REALLY?

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I dont get it.

I have enough on my plate to warrant the average person to wish to commit suicide. I do. Not the average person in any particular social or economic spectrum, just in general. Lets see, just a short list: I live with a brain tumor that causes me to go for days without sleeping, bouts of rage and fatigue, hormone deficiencies, nutrient deficiencies, constant pain, I cant work and because of it I face homelessness for my wife and I, I have little access to medical facilities, the only way we get food is threatened to be cut with the politics in D.C., what little I DO for money actually aggravates the disease, I spend 1/5 of my income just getting to and from the only job I can find, my living family has all but abandoned me, my wife's family all hates me, most of my friends are also sick and most are online, my wife is sick and out of work and I cant provide for her, and my life span is pretty much set in stone for me. I think I covered everything, but Im sure there is more.

The point is, there is A LOT I can point to and say "That's why I DESERVE to end it. I want the pain to end!" But so far, I have failed in that, thanks to many of you meddling people reading this. What KILLS me, no pun intended, is when people have WAY LESS to deal with, and are just having a rough day or week. Or maybe they had a fight with their significant other and are picking up the pieces. You see, Ive had that. And I had ALL OF THE ABOVE to deal with at the same time.

I know everyone's struggle is different, and maybe that rough patch IS the hardest part of their life to date. I don't know. What I do know, is that Ive had to deal with it, AND all of the above. And if I haven't, at least you dont have ALL OF THE ABOVE to deal with too. Quit bitching. Yes, its hard. Yes, its easier to give up. Yet, I do not. I find a reason to get up out of bed each day, even when it literally is the hardest part of my day. Even when I literally have to be carried out of bed, I make it. When when I have to be spoon fed, and its happened, or have had to be changed out of sheets I have urinated in, I push. And it pisses me off, again no pun intended, to see people who could carry half of MY burden and still be ok, bitch and moan and tell me they contemplate suicide. I understand depression, as it is a daily struggle with me and my wife, and most people I know. And it clouds the mind. I have to keep reminding myself that while I deserve for the pain to end, those around me dont deserve to hurt on my account. And the only thing worse to me than my life is hurting those I care about.

If you know me, you probably struggle. But any time you feel like you want end your life, read this. Or call me. Or text me. Ask me how my day was. Tell me you really want to know. If I cant make you feel better, at least I can make you thankful you arent in my shoes. And there are people who struggle just like me, sometimes even worse than me. This letter isnt for you. You know what Im talking about.

And Im not comparing who is suffering more. Im just tired of people telling me how they are going to kill themselves, how their life is so bad, and about so little, especially when you know people like me. Venting is one thing, but I feel like when people tell me this that they are again judging me and people like me. I dont kill myself, so they dont have much to stand on.

The Weary and very Annoyed Zebra

And thanks for letting me rant. Things have been rough, and we are in danger of getting evicted again. We have some irons in the fire, but nothing is for certain  If you could help us get through the next few months, we would really appreciate it. We are trying to raise $3000, which is 3 months rent. Thanks to all who have donated, and I ask only that you share the page with people you know, and we appreciate any donations.

Click here to Donate to our Rent fund.

In gratitude,
A Humble Zebra

Shackled by my Sentence.

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I hope you all forgive me for not updating my blog sooner. Nothing has really gotten much better. My testosterone was replaced since last I posted. That has helped some things. But overall no big change. Thats why I havent posted anything. Nothing much to post.

Today was an interesting day. Overall a great day, in my book. And on days like today, Im able to better reflect on my situation. And its worse than I ever imagined. Today, I was in a cortisol high. So today was a different mind set than usual. Let me take you through the day.

I didnt sleep well at all last night.

I was hot, I have pinched nerves everywhere. Both arms are going numb no matter what positon Im in. But when I was able to sleep, I got the most vivid dreams. The only times Ive ever had these kind of dreams is when Im able to sleep durring a cortisol episode. And as usual, it was a nightmare.

In the dream, my mother and brother were both alive again. I was telling them all about our new home in Washington. My sister was there, and she was laughing and having a good time like we were. My dad was there, so happy. Like nothing was wrong. And my brother gets in his car to get something from the store, and he's T-Boned, right in front of me. Of us. My mother is there, sobbing as her baby is taken from her, and passes away in front of me. I loose them all over again. Over the next several hours, I drift between awake and asleep, seeing this over and over.

After one fit, I realise Im running late and it makes me so angry. Trying to keep it under wraps, I fumble through my morning, warning Mrs. Zebra that she is ok, but to watch out for me. She is so sweet. I just want to hold her and thank her, but this train isnt going that direction. All I can do is pull as hard as I can on the brake if I know the train is headed the wrong way, and hope for the best. I dont even remember what was setting me off, but I remember dropping everything I touched. The clumsiness comes with the corisol, and with that comes embarrassment  which turns to anger. To make my morning worse, I remember that I am broke after both of us the night before were too exhausted to cook dinner. We splurged on two Jr hamburgers. And that ate up what little money we had left. So I couldn't take the ferry, but instead had to drive the full hour to work. On my spare.

The enire way to my part time job (yep, only place that will take me, 1hr away), I tried so hard not to beat the cops to the police station. Luckly, traffic was on my side, and only a few people were told where to stick their hand and attitude. By now, Im very worried about the people who I have to make nice with to get donations. What will happen when the part of my brain that tells me to hang up on the crude, rude person on the line stops functioning? At least Im not in ANY pain. Yep. No pain. Thats what a cortisol high will do for you in the short term. Unfortunately  I had forgotten to grab my urine jug and cooler, or call in. I wasted several good urine collection opportunities. But Im collecting now.

Anyway, no rude people. Not one. Not a great day, mind you, but not one rude person. So I didnt blow up like I should have for my case. Doubled edged sword. The easy ride home gave me chances to reflect on my situation. My depression is almost 100% fatigue and stress. Doesn't cure the issue, but reaffirms my theory  And if something doesn't change soon, we will be homeless. Ive been very fortunate so far. But Im scared. If this day were every day, I could work. But Im up at 2:30am, and my mind and body feel good enough to write this. There is always a price. And that price will be any productivity when I crash, and for several days later. Probably tomorrow. But maybe this will last. Im hoping it does.

And of course, I have all this energy, and I cant focus on anything  This may SEEM put together, but I come back and add and take things as I come and go to other things. Thats probably one of the worst parts. That and the misplaced rage. Thats what I hate about this disease. Plans? I cant make plans. If I dont push myself to my breaking point, I cant do anything. I cant work. I cant go to school. And Im terrified every day of talking to people. I havent talked to some people in months. Im AFRAID to. Why? Lots of reasons. Only some rational. IDK. I just wish I could get someone to listen. I even wrote Jay Inslee, the WA governor. Not even a big EFF YOU.

Its pouring outside. Sounds so nice.

I just wish I could escape. Not just for me, but for everyone around me. I hate being so goddamn useless. And thats what I am. Useless. Im a wage slave, and because of it I cant do anything I can ACTUALLY do. In an ideal situation, I can work when I can, form home. But thats ideal. Not reality. And the longer I stay underemployed, the further I fall behind.

No wonder my family wont speak to me. Im useless.

The doctors dont care. They have all but said those words. So if I can get a few good UFCs, maybe I can get teh warden to raise an eyebrow. Because the system doesn't care that Im a prisoner of my own body. I got a day furrow, and Im tempted to keep going. To supplement this with my steroid pills. Its so hard being an addict to something your body makes too much of, especially when there is no on/off switch. For one day, I got to see what a semi-normal life might feel like. It wasn't my first taste, but it was just as sweet. Everyday, I loose hope of that every again.

Did anyone see the warden?

The Wired Weary Zebra

You dont get it.

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Things arent going so well for us. But something a friend left on my VM irked me enough to write. Note: None of what I am about to say has been embellished.



Someone who is perfectly healthy, and owns their own home, told me how lucky I was to have a job (they are unemployed and piddled around until their UI ran out, spent loads on beer and women). Im facing eviction, Im so sick that the 3hr daily commute is literately killing me. I spend about 1/4 of what I DO make on transportation to/from work. And the worst part is HE KNOWS THIS!

I understand depression, I live it every day. Its a struggle physically and mentally to get out of bed each day. So when someone that is COMPLETELY PHYSICALLY HEALTHY tells me that I am "so lucky", its not just that they don't GET IT, they don't care too. I would trade situations with them in a hear beat. Trade being chronically ill with a disease said to be so rare, it doesn't exist, a non-functioning pituitary gland, and the fatigue of a 90 year old man, the bills piling up, the constant fear of homelessness, with that of a fairly healthy, unemployed home owner.I love the guy like family, but c'mon!

Mrs. Zebra's UI ran out and she hasn't been able to find work. Ive been busy either working or doing work at home for people to get my name out there. When I can make my own schedule, I can do some work. But that is hard to tell an employer. We've had some help from good friends, who I like to refer to as "adopted family".

Christmas was rough. I miss my brother, and I think my blood relatives are mad at me. Mrs. Zebra and I had a very quite Christmas yesterday. Just tried not to think about the fact that our first Christmas in our new home might be our last. I have a little work in the pipeline, but it could take until March to pay out. I hate asking for help, from anyone, but we desperately need it. If you can help, it would be much appreciated. If you use paypal, you can click the link on the top, left of this page. Otherwise, if you want to help, send me a message.

The very scared and humble weary zebra.

Letter to the new Governor!

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I wrote and mailed this letter in to Governor Pro-tem Inslee and emailed his campaign. Hopefully, he can pull some strings to help us. 


Dear Mr. Inslee

Let me first congratulate you on your victory of being elected as the new governor of the great state of Washington. I was really pulling for you, and the fact that you are our governor makes us feel much better about living here. My wife and I, as well as several people we know in Tacoma, canvassed and worked for your campaign the last few months either knocking on doors or making calls to voters. We hope that you will kick some butt as out governor. 
The reason I am writing to you is that I am in need of your help. Before I get too far into that, let me tell you about myself. My wife and I recently moved here from Texas to be close to my doctors here. On December 30th, we will have been here one year. I have a rare disease called Cushing’s disease. It is, usually, a tumor in one’s pituitary gland that makes your body produce excess cortisol which effects every system in the body. As you may or may not know, Cushing’s is a rarely diagnosed endocrine disorder characterized by hypercortisolism. Cortisol is a hormone produced by the adrenal glands and is vital to regulate the body’s cardiovascular functions and metabolism, to boost the immune system and to fight inflammation. But its most important job is to help the body to respond to stress. The adrenal glands release cortisol in response to stress, so athletes, women experiencing pregnancy, and those suffering from alcoholism, panic disorders and malnutrition naturally have higher-than-normal levels of cortisol.
People with Cushing’s Syndrome live life with too much cortisol for their bodies as a result of a hormone-secreting tumor. Mine is located in the pituitary gland. Endogenous hypercortisolism leaves the body in a constant state of “fight or flight,” which ravages the body and tears down the body’s major systems including cardiovascular, musculo-skeletal, endocrine, etc.
Symptoms vary, but the most common symptoms include rapid, unexplained weight gain in the upper body with increased fat around the neck and face (“moon facies”); buffalo hump; facial flushing/plethora; muscle wasting in the arms and legs; purplish striae (stretch marks) on the abdomen, thighs, buttocks, arms and breasts; poor wound healing and bruising; severe fatigue; depression, anxiety disorders and emotional lability; cognitive difficulties; sleep disorders due to abnormally high nighttime cortisol production; high blood pressure and high blood sugar/diabetes; edema; vision problems; premature osteoporosis; and, in women, signs of hyperandrogenism such as menstrual irregularities, infertility, hirsutism, male-patterned balding and steroid-induced acne.
Attached, you will find a sketch of a typical Cushing’s patient. As you can see, the effects of the disease on the body are dramatic.

Worse, the psychological and emotional effects of having a chronic, debilitating and disfiguring disease range from distressing to demoralizing.
Imagine that, in the space of a year, you became unrecognizable to those around you and to yourself. You look in the mirror, but the person staring back at you is a stranger. You endure the stares and looks of pity from those who knew you before Cushing’s, fully aware that they believe you have “let yourself go” or otherwise allowed this to happen to your body. Nothing you can say or do will persuade them otherwise, so at some point, you stop trying and resolve to live your life in a stranger’s body. While I have been living with this my entire life, this still affects me because I have lost family that went from accepting me to thinking I was lazy, fat, etc. 

You feel increasingly sick, but when you explain your array of symptoms to your doctor, you are dismissed as a depressed hypochondriac who needs to diet and exercise more. Worse, your family members think the same thing — and are often quick to tell you how you need to “change your lifestyle” to overcome the effects of what you eventually will discover, once properly diagnosed, is a serious and rare disease.

If only it were so simple! No one would choose to have Cushing’s. Those of us who have it would not wish it even on our worst enemy.Most people with Cushing’s long for the ability to do simple things, like walk a flight of stairs without having to sit for half an hour afterwards, or vacuum the house or even unload a dishwasher.

One of the worst parts about this disease is the crushing fatigue and muscle wasting/weakness, which accompanies hypercortisolism. Not only do we become socially isolated because of the virilzing effects of an endocrine tumor, which drastically alters our appearance, but we no longer feel like ourselves with regard to energy. We would love to take a long bike ride, run three miles or go shopping like we used to — activities, which we took for granted before the disease struck. Those activities are sadly impossible at times for those with advanced stages of the disease.

Sometimes, as with any serious illness, performing even basic tasks of daily care such as showering and dressing can exhaust the limited reserves of energy available to a Cushing’s patient. Holding down a job has been difficult, especially with the economy like it is. So in 2010, I had surgery at Swedish Medical Center in Seattle. I flew from Texas to find a cure. Instead, I found that it can get much worse. The pitutary is the command center hormone wise, and I am missing almost 3/4 of it, trying to remove a tumor that as far as we can tell is still active. After surgery or other treatment, the recovery period can last months or even years. Because the tumor takes over control of the body’s production of cortisol, the adrenal glands, which had lain dormant prior to surgery, require time to start functioning properly again.
Until this happens, we must take synthetic steroids or else risk adrenal insufficiency or adrenal crisis, which can be quickly life-threatening. Careful monitoring of our cortisol levels is critical during the weaning period. It is a rare but sad fact that some people’s adrenal glands never return to normal, and those people must continue to take hydrocortisone or prednisone — sometimes for life — simply in order for the body to perform correctly its basic systemic functions.

The physical recovery from surgery can be quick, but the withdrawal from hydrocortisone can be a lengthy and extremely painful process. As I described above, Cushing’s causes a tearing-down of muscles and bone. While there is an over-abundance of cortisol in our bodies (as a result of the tumor), we often can’t feel the effects of the muscle-wasting and bone deterioration because of the anti-inflammatory action of cortisol. Upon weaning, however, these become painfully (literally!) evident.
The physical pain experienced while weaning from cortisol has been described as worse than weaning from heroin. When cortisol levels are low, one experiences the symptoms akin to a really bad flu, including severe fatigue (”like a wet cement blanket laid on top of me”); weakness and exhaustion; nausea; headache; vomiting; mental confusion. It is imperative for people who are on replacement steroids after Cushing’s surgery to carry extra Cortef (or injectable Solu-Cortef) with them at all times in addition to wearing a medic alert bracelet so that medical professionals will be alerted to the possibility of adrenal insufficiency in the event of an adrenal crisis.

People who have struggled with Cushing’s Syndrome all hope to return to “normal” at some point. Though none of us want to have Cushing’s, it is often a relief finally to have a correct diagnosis and treatment plan. For many, there is a gradual resolution of many Cushing’s symptoms within a few years of surgery or other successful treatment, and a good quality of life can be achieved. But regrettably, this is not possible in every case. Depending on the severity of the disease and the length of time before diagnosis and treatment, the prognosis can be poor and lead to shortened life expectancy and diminished quality of life. This is not a choice or something we can control, but it is the reality for some people who have suffered the consequences of long-term hypercortisolism. Recovery to this point has been grueling. So we moved up here thinking that we would be closer to people who understand the situation and a better social safety net. 

While both are still very true, especially compared to Texas, we are not doing so well. My wife, Kaylie, also cant work due to a nerve issue with her hands and feet but is getting the help she needs thanks to the doctors we are now able to see. But we are still on the verge of homelessness. I worked what I could during the summer, but was fired, and even though it wasn't gainful employment I was denied disability because of it. I don't qualify for unemployment benefits, and my wife’s is about to run out. On top of that, DSHS keeps requiring us to turn in paperwork that either doesn't exist, they already have, or they wont specify what they need. Thats just so we can get $50 a month in food stamps and maybe get me Medicaid. 

We are struggling just to make sure food is on our plates and all the bills are paid. 
Governor Inslee, we need your help. Is there any way you can intervene in my disability case on my behalf? Or help us get more aid for medical and food? We aren't looking for handouts, but how is anyone supposed to heal so they can get back to work when they have to constantly worry about where their next meal is coming from? We are down to one meal a day to make what we have last as long as we can. I don't want to live on disability. I want to work. I want to help make this state as great as it can be, but with the symptoms still present, and the stress of every day life making them worse, if something doesn't happen soon I wont be around in a year or two. Between my condition and the poverty, this will kill me. But if this doesn't kill me, I want to enter politics and serve the people of Washington just as you have. Please, if there is anything you can do for a 28 year old who worked on your campaign, for someone who is being discriminated against by a system rigged to do so, please do it! 

If you would like to read more about this debilitating disease, please go to:
or my blog:

Thank you.
Love peace, blessings, and solidarity!
Sincerely yours,

The Weary Zebra

Falling Apart

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Its Halloween today. My favoriate holiday. But, as with all my favoriate things, I can no longer enjoy them. I have been so sick the last few months, I havent had the energy to put up any of the decorations we have. Money has been so tight, that we cant afford to buy candy for the kids who didn't stop by. IN fact, beans and rice it is for our one meal today.

Im so depressed, it is getting harder and harder to get up in the morning. Not wake up, but to get out of bed. I just got out of sinus surgery on Monday. Turns out I had a fungal infection from the pituitary surgery 2 years ago. If we were still in Texas, I wouldn't have had the surgery. You have to be homeless to qualify for aid down there, and if you are homeless, you dont really count. Im still fighting disability, but they are relentless. Even DSHS (Dept of Social and Health Services) wants documents that either dont exist, or they have in their position already. But that is the deal. They grind you down. But today is the last day of my Charity Care at Swedish Medical Center. Maybe I will be able to get it again, but they said its not likely. They dont help indigent people or something.

Mrs. Zebra is cracking through the stress and depression. Im afraid she might leave me soon if something doesn't change. I guess I dont blame her. I am pretty worthless at this point. There used to be a significant section of my day devoted on figuring out what I could do for her next. Now, I cant do anything for her. I cant do anything to help our situation. Im helpless and hopeless. And alone.

The Very Weary and Depressed Zebra

Too tired to cary on...

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Its been several months and my followers deserve an update. Ive been so sick and down that there hasnt been much to post.

Summer finally came and went here in Washington state. But it didnt happen without me getting fired from my job at Working America. I was $3 short of my weekly deposit quota. You can read about it HERE.

Ive been trying to get my job back while doing as much freelance work as I can. Mrs. Zebra is still unemployed and still battling many internal demons as well. When I do get work, I get the run around as far as what the client wants, all the settings change, etc. Why cant I just work and get paid?

We are so broke, we cant afford to go and do anything to get our minds off of things. We are eating once a day now too. Not even a big meal. We are slowly starving to death.

In September, I had my hearing for disability and it was post-poned a couple weeks because my lawyer was a hack and didn't show up. The new lawyer found that none of my docs had been helping me at all either, including those at Swedish. My hearing finally comes and the judge is conservative and dosent care that the docs have listed me as disabled, and according to SSI rules I qualify in several categories  Nope. Got the report today.

So on to the next level. If I survive.

Does anyone even give a shit?

How sick am I?

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So for the last five days, I have been home off work. The office where I work was closed Wednesday through Friday so I had to tack on two extra hours each day for 5 days before. Those extra two hours killed me. I was barely treading water.

To a healthy person, this wouldn't be a problem. I have a two hour commute, mostly by ferry and bus, and minimum walking. Well, maybe just over a mile, most of it down hill. But for me, it's the hardest thing I have ever had to constantly endure. Just getting to the ferry winds me, and if I don't make the first bus after work, by sprinting over half a mile in 5 minutes, the I have to sprint 5 blocks down a 50° incline to make sure I don't miss that ferry.

The work also wears me out. I have to repeat the same script to people, most of whom are either idiots, jerks, or don't remember who we are or that I am a human and not a robot. By the time I get home, remember two hours each way, I can barely peal myself out of the car, or string together sentences. Mrs. Zebra has had to feed me dinner before because of how exhausted I am.

I'm really scared of what is going to happen to us.


Long time, no see...

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Hey all. How have you been?

Im sorry its been so long. A lot has happened since I last posted. Mrs. Zebra lost her job, and to be closer to my doc in Seattle, we scrimped and scraped and barely made it up here. Just in time for the huge budget cuts to happen to social services. So we are in line to fill out paperwork to get in line to see a doctor. Mrs. Zebra is really sick, but we arent 100% sure what with. Her skin is thinning and her hands and feet are always in pain. I thought that I could go back to work and for the last month I have been commuting 2hrs one way to get to a part time job that makes just over minium wage. So after this month, we will probably be evicted. But maybe someone can help us out. Check out the video below and see if you can help.

The very weary zebra.


1 year post op: kick me while Im down why dont you?

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Im sorry its been a while since my last update. Ive been so down and low in energy, and depressed that I just havent wanted to. That and I really feel like no one cares. 

Since my last update, I lost my insurance, and Mrs. Zebra lost her job thanks to the stalker and a co-worker dogging on her so much she snapped. Both of us are unemployed, both are sick. Im not sure what we are going to do, but we both feel we need to move west. Please, if you can, donate to help us move closer to Dr. Ludlum, by clicking the button in the upper left hand corner.

Last week, I had my 1year post op. I felt like crap all day after my Cortisol Stimulation Test, and couldnt get out of bed the next day.


I got a call from Dr. L's office today and I was kind of frustrated at it. Those of you who know what is going on with me might know why, but in a nutshell I had my pituitary slaughtered to rid myself of the tumor inside. They missed some, my numbers never crashed, and my pituitary never woke up again. In September, and January, same thing. I went to Seattle to do yet another CST, and now they are saying I have enough ACTH and cortisol to be life sustaining, but I still have Cushing's. My frustration comes from this: Later last week, I coudlnt get out of bed. Actually, I felt like crap all day Wednesday (the day of the test) and couldnt get out of bed Thursday morning either. So assuming Im still cyclical, and assuming my pituitary, until last week, was dead or zombified at least, wouldnt it be the TUMOR causing that? And if it is, is it really smart to be weening? How do we know if it is or not?

They want me to ween by 2.5mg a week, which is very slow. But last time I tried weening I ended up in the ER each time. I probably should have been in the ER last Thursday but I hadnt thrown up my stress dose (thanksAdrienne Brandstetter) and thats usually the point in which I go. What do you experts think? I know 20mg/day is high but if it is the tumor doing this, is weening off the steroids really that smart?

The pit is dead still, because Im not making GH or Testosterone either. The tumor is the only thing that could be making ACTH, even according to them. So why ween? If the tumor was "ON" that morning, even at a low enough level to look normal, I dont understand why that means Im ok to ween.

I hope this gets sorted soon, or I dont know what will happen.

Frustrated Weary Zebra

Laid Off

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Due to medical, or the economy, or whatever, I was let go today. It was supposed to be my first day back and although I wasnt ready to go back to work physically, I was a little excited to get back in the editor's booth.This is has been such a hard year, I really hope and pray this is the last major obstacle we have to deal with. Im not sure either of us can take much more.
I have some options in both regarding this position, and others. But I am forcing myself to take one thing at a time. It is so hard dealing with this when you are so sick. I dont know how people do it. I really dont.

The Weary (jobless) Zebra

Posted via email from The weary Zebra: Zebra Snippets

A rock and a hard place

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Well, its been a rough road. Its been a while since I did an update so here goes.

First: after the six months post op, I am not completely better. In many ways, I am worse. But the docs told me to expect much of this and I was a bit to optimistic when I began this journey. We still do not know conclusively if I still have Cushing's. The MRI that was taken last week doesn't show any tumor left, but I still show many cushing's symptoms. We cant test to see if I still have it because I have a massive sinus infection since surgery and the last few months I have had to take massive amounts of steroids to just keep it at bay. Those would throw off any testing on my adrenals.

My pituitary still isn't working. I am low on several hormones, including testosterone and growth hormone. Because of this, I hurt all over and many of my systems are not working correctly, including my immune system.
And because of my sinus infection, I am due into surgery in the next few weeks. Thankfully it is local, at UT Southwest. But these guys dont like me much. Hopefully they will now, since I am going under THEIR knife. Its supposed to be as bad as my immediate post op from pituitary surgery. Fun stuff. Just found out today!

So hopefully none of this will affect me trying to get back to work. I miss cutting video and making graphics! I need to stay off of work, but waiting on disability will break us. We cant afford to wait years. Maybe I can find a loophole in the mean time.

More to come as it happens!

Posted via email from The weary Zebra: Zebra Snippets