Ending Results of Psuedo Tumor Cerebri

A while back I was diagnosed with pseudo tumor cerebri, A.K.A. intercranial hypertension. A condition in which my spinal cord’s fluid wasn’t being absorbed properly in my bloodstream and was causing pressure in my skull.

I’m not sure how common this hypertension is, but it is most commonly seen in obese women (so said my doctor). But the immediate concern was troubling. As a result of the pressure in my skull, my optic nerves were swelling, and I was going blind.

I was then faced with an unpleasant call of action. Beth, you must lose the weight, or lose your vision.

I’ll spare you the story of the painstaking efforts and fast-forward to the present. Right now, I am roughly 5-10ish lbs away from being considered a normal BMI. I’ve maxed out in the resistance-levels of my exercise bike and push-ups are no longer an unbearable sh*t show.

Overall, the result is a far more useful body than before. Don’t worry, Daddy, I shoveled your snowy driveway already. Careful, Mom! Let me lift that for you!

That is enough in itself. But now I must broach the subject of looks, dear readers, and it’s a bit unsettling.

What’s that, new job offer? You’re offering me $0.50/hour more than I originally asked for?

You hesitate, Karen. What’s this? You decide now to listen to my store’s return policy?

Hello, handsome man. You think I’m pretty? What are my dinner plans? Um…

^^An honest depiction of the rewards I get from weight loss and an extremely tragic reality for when I carried extra pounds.

I’d love to discuss this further with you, my dear reader. Wherever you are in body or health, I invite you to tell me all about it in the comments section. I will most certainly reply. Perhaps we can laugh. Perhaps we can cry. If nothing else, I’m always game for a good and healthy venting. F*** you, scale! Stop lying, turkey! You don’t taste like bacon! 😖

I love you all! 😘

-Beth

Let’s talk about Karens.

There’s a unique label for this generation. A group of people many retail workers have encountered and very few have ever liked.

It’s not their hairstyle that makes them identifiable, though social media would disagree. What really grants people this label is their behavior in retail stores.

To the warriors behind the customer service desk, they are seen as a disgusting nuisance to deal with immediately. Much how a hiker sees a wood tick that is crawling on their ankle.

These are the people who shriek in outrage when told the store policies apply to them. The ones who, should even the meekest refusal be made to their demands, rage abuse at the hapless worker and demand to speak to the store’s manager. The epitome of entitlement and elitism, they are Karens.

A new type of mutant has infiltrated our happily indulgent society. God save us all.

-Beth

 

 

 

 

You’ve got to be kidding me…

20200608_143328My dearest readers,

I recently experienced Newton’s Law of Motion firsthand. I slammed the brakes of my bike to avoid an oncoming vehicle. As the law suggests, my bike did indeed stop moving, but my body did not.

Though the cement curb was generous in not making me bite it American History X style, it did insist on its solidity as my arm whacked itself on it.

I now nurse a fracture hung in a sling. As far as broken arms go, I am fortunate. ‘Tis in such perfect alignment that neither cast nor surgery is necessary.

Be safe and respect the Laws of Motion. I love you all!

-Beth

Suck it, Carpal Tunnel! Your reign is at an end.

(WARNING!!! THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS PICTURES OF A HAND AFTER A DOCTOR GUTTED IT WITH A SCOPE AND SCALPEL. IF YOU’RE LIKE ME AND GET SICK OFF THE GORE OF BODY PARTS, BEGONE FROM HERE.)

Good evening, my dearest readers! Particularly my fellow writer John, who has been very kind to read 20200507_080624

every blog post I’ve ever written. Thank you, sir! Your attention has given me reason to stay on here. ☺☺☺

Long story short, what was causing me constant pain and agony has been fixed as of May 5th. All that’s left is for those disgusting wounds to heal. Believe me or not, it actually feels much better than it did before.

I’ll write again in June. Hopefully earlier. There are so many ideas that can now be written with so little pain.

Take care, my loves!

-Beth

 

 

Carpal Tunnel Anonymous

Right hand of mine, I am very pissed.

The least you could do is make a fist.

I know you’re swollen and full of pain.

Carpal tunnel is my ugly bane.

My head is full of things to write.

Trapped in my skull all day and night.

Could someone invent cyborg tech, please!

I’d like a new hand to write with ease.

Swollen and tingly, stiff and sore.

My hand has been that and much more.

Oh surgery,  I invoke your name, and on the schedule you shall be.

Great solution! Thank you so much for being available to me.

Now excuse me, readers, as I put my hand in the snow

And I’ll pop another ibuprofen before I go.

-Beth ☺

Give Me Cheeseburgers or Give Me Death!

“What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.”

Friedrich Nietzsche, you nailed it. Your immortal words speak through the generations. And now, it is my turn to not only quote them, but feel them.

Mostly in my aching muscles as they punish me for making use of them for the first time in 20 years.

But my entire body is learning to shrink. And pain has been its eager teacher.

Don’t get me wrong, dear reader. I’m still a fat ass. Just a slowly shrinking one. 😉

Please eat a cheeseburger in my name and tell it how sorry I am…so sorry!!!!

Damn it…

-Beth

 

 

 

Winter might need help.

Well, my readers, looks like Winter got plastered yesterday. So much so that when she woke up this morning, she blocked out all sunlight and violently regurgitated her load all over my town.

We are all stranded in our houses until she recovers. Her ladies-in-waiting, aka meteorologists, predict with rest and lots of toxin-purging, she will get better and we can all return to work tomorrow morning.

Until then, I combat my boredom by deliberately testing my cherub father’s patience and making a fabulous spaghetti dinner. Complete with homemade bread (mercilessly beating dough with my bare fists gives me great satisfaction, oddly enough).

God, I love snow days.

-Beth

Sappiness equals Happiness

My money’s short, but my happiness is long.

Glad there’s no price for being where I belong.

I eat knoephla with my family, 30 years a member.

Laughter roars all around the table as we all remember

Beth’s incident with the milk jug or Pete’s bout with the snake.

And that great trip to Montana with the crystal-clear lake!

Politics!! The world is going to hell at this rate!

What’s that, my dear sister Sue? You went on a fun date?

What about Grandma Rose’s escape with 10,000 in cash?

I’m glad sunny Great-Grandma Hulda was not as prone to dash!

All that we were and all that we are today.

We’re reminded of over noodles, kraut, and play.

Merry Christmas! 🙂

-Beth

 

 

The Cold White S**t

Snow is sticking to the windows today. The wind howls as it angrily beats the walls of our house, apparently frustrated that it’s tree-bending strength is no match for the American-designed home.

Meanwhile, I sit in horrid agitation, feeling much like a restless prisoner would in her cell.

But I’m not alone.

The 75,000 residents of my hometown share my woes. My fellows, my brethren, my inmates. Only 5 months until the mountains of cold white shit disappears and we can enjoy the outdoors again. 🙂

-Beth