now all the boys are after me and that's the way it's gonna be

So, what have I been up to? Here are some random pics from Tuesday night's Knit Purl Hurl. My alcohol tolerance is shot, so towards the end, there, I might have been losing it some.

First, my ripple blanket in progress. Still life with Guinness.Next we have Jess (who, insanely enough, even for her, was seaming a black lace sweater's set-in sleeves. In the bar. Yeah.), Ellie and Micah, trying to sneak in an ultra-sexy pose for the ladies as I took the picture.And Alena, dragged to our insanity by Libbyand the only decent picture of me all night.But the best part was the surprise waiting for Jess from her boyfriend.An Iron Maiden lunchbox! With a Thermos!Jess' lunches are gonna taste sooooo much better from now on.

like the sweetest cup i'd share with you you lift me up don't you ever stop

And now I have Simple Minds in my head.

Okay, I know I've been gone for awhile, and I want to say thank you to everyone who commented or thought about commented but instead was a lazy-ass lurker like I usually am or who called me or texted me or sent me good vibes or vibes or reiki or whatever.

Yes, I am alive. As many of you saw in the comments in my last post, and in Melissa's posts, and in subsequent posts, Melissa took me to the ER, blood transfusion, I flew back to DC a day later, had a subsequent ER visit, and have been out of work this entire time.

And without the interwebs.

For those of you who were inspired enough by my tale to give blood, I think that's awesome. I used to give blood often, and, if I am allowed to when I have some to spare, will give it again. Someone with B+ blood, maybe two someones, gave blood for me, and saved my life. I never thought much about my giving blood when I did give it, but now that I've gotten blood, I have to say, it's a miracle.

For those of you who can't give blood because you literally faint, or you've tried and your blood is unacceptable, that's fine. Knit something extra for charity you might not have, or donate time to a soup kitchen, or do nothing.

Except.

Can we please stop treating our menstrual cycles like some hidden shameful secret?

I found out last night that The Man Who Lives in the House's aunt has this EXACT SAME FUCKING PROBLEM EIGHT YEARS AGO. When I met her, she had just had surgery for "private, female issues." When The Man told Enabling Alcoholic what had happened to me, she was all, "Oh, yeah, that's what those private, female issues were that your aunt had."

FUCKFUCKUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK

I said previously that Amy saved my life with her post about it. Gee, do you think if we hadn't kept this all private and secret, that had I known what had happened to The Man's aunt even a little bit, that I might have FUCKING GONE TO THE DOCTOR BEFORE IT WAS ALMOST TOO FUCKING LATE AND THE ONLY REASON IT WASN'T WAS BECAUSE I CHOSE TO GO TO AN OB/GYN WHO DOESN'T TAKE INSURANCE SO SHE COULD SEE ME RIGHT AWAY AND HAD I WAITED TO SEE ONE WHO TOOK INSURANCE I WOULD STILL FUCKING BE WAITING??!!!!?!?!?!?!?

My in-laws are probably sorry I didn't die.

In any event, I'll show some ripple progress later, after I nap a bit.

E2A:
Did I say thank you to all of you for your support? Cuz, really, thank you. My doctor just called and my anemia is almost GONE!!!

the phantom slips in to spill blood even on the sweetest honeymoon

I'm going to be a little more personal, here, than I usually am, because I guess I'm a little more troubled right now than I usually am.

I know I've been a bit sarcastic or made references to the fact that dear Auntie Flo is the bane of my existence, and of late has not really gone away, but this has turned into a serious situation, and if anyone at all reading this someday (as if that's likely) can be helped, I'd rather say it than not.

I have always had irregular periods, since I started menstruating at twelve years old. Doctors have always pretty much said there's nothing that could be done for me, and eventually, I gave up on going to the doctor. Of course, if you know me, you also know that I have possibly the lowest self-esteem it's possible to have. I think there's a connection between health and self-esteem. After all, I don't think I'm worthy of being healthy, so I'm not worthy of going to the doctor when I'm sick.

So when I started yet another lengthy heavy period back in November (October?), I didn't think much of it. The fact that it was extremely heavy didn't worry me much. Heavier than usual, and I don't know if even any women out there could possibly understand how heavy I mean (and I'll spare the details). And months went by and I saw it as par for the course and stress-related and punishment for some imagined crime or something.

And eventually, I started feeling very sick and me, the workaholic, started missing work. And I missed significant hours of work during the month of April. And I felt too sick to suck it up and go in.

And I was poking around and I read indigirl's post about how she had similar health problems and saw a doctor and was frustrated but she saw a doctor anyway and I commented on her post and she wrote me back and encouraged me to go to the doctor even though I was frustrated.

And I stopped making excuses and I saw a doctor.

And I had tests done.

And, as it turns out, while I'm not entirely sure what is causing the heavy, ongoing periods yet, the blood loss is so significant, I need a blood transfusion. Next week, if not sooner. Because I am now lacking 50% of the blood in my body. And I am close to cardiac arrest. I can barely eat anything, or move, or sit up, and knitting is out. Because my heart wants to do as little as possible.

I haven't had the transfusions yet, and it might be too late for me. But it might not. I owe you, Amy. I might owe you my life. I definitely owe you my gratitude and sanity and a host of other things I am not talking about yet here.

Don't wait to go to the doctor. No matter how poor or low on self-esteem you feel. Don't wait until it's too late.

E2A:
To be clear, I don't *think* I'm going to die, but I don't see the doctor for a few days, and I'm at a critical stage now. It's hard for me to be Pollyanna, "I'm going to be okay!" when I feel so tired all the time and when I know that I am basically bleeding to death. I know I am close to the "cardiac arrest" point, but I don't know how close. Also, thanks for your support; I need it. I am kind of going through this alone, due to other circumstances in my life, so, uh, I appreciate the words.

'cuz the old black rum's got a hold on me like a dog wrapped 'round my leg

Note to self.

When drinking five Dark and Stormys, which I highly recommend you do again because they're tasty as all fuck, try to eat something, because otherwise, at 2 PM the next day, you'll still have a hangover, and if the fucking coffee place near work can't make a decent Americano and you have to wait until you get to the airport later on, you're fucked for all of your meetings today.

That is all.

you're gonna see the reason why when they're spittin' in your eye they'll be spittin' in your eye

Just read this on CNN.

And Georgia wonders why it's ranked dead last in education.

(Just an FYI, I have things to post about, but my stolen wireless has been spotty. Hopefully it'll become more stable.)

make me wanna do tricks for him lick him like a lollipop should be licked

My life is messed up and fucked up and dumba dn stupid and crazy and weird and I have a glimmer of hope for the future and some self-esteem and self-confidence building back up.

And some bamboo.

i got a pocket full of cheese and a garden full of trees

So my pictures are fraught with suckassageness moreso tonight than ever so I can't show you what I'm working on but let me tell you, and, I hope, someone won't be mad at me about it, but I'm making a sample crocheted scarf for Neighborhood Fiber Company in Studio Worsted, in the Mt. Pleasant colorway (second down on the left, here.

So because I a) don't really know how to crochet, I just pretend I do but moving the little hooky thingy between yarn and my fingers and stuff, and b) have no idea what I'm doing with crochet, and c) see a and b, above, this thing looks rather fucked up now that I'm in the third row/ripple. Oh yeah I adapted the ripple design I adapted for the ripple blanket which is working well in the blanket and looks kinda fucked up in the scarf. But I'm pretending like I meant to do it that way and umm. Nobody in the world will ever want this pattern written down because nobody in the world will ever want it replicated, except that the yarn is beautiful and gorgeous and really, really nice.

And *ahem* when Karida gets around to having any time at all and has made every colorway she wants to, in about ten years or so, I look forward to a Columbia Heights colorway. Or, you know, Roswell, Georgia. Which would ruin the whole DC neighborhood thing. Which is why it's a pipe dream of mine. Cuz there are a lot of DC neighborhoods.

You know, the other day, I was walking down the street looking like shit so of course I got picked to be interviewed for some TV thing and the guy was asking me about development at the old convention center spot and I went on and on about disenfranchisement of the working poor by developing areas in the district and he said they were looking to give it a new neighborhood name and what did I think about that and I said I thought it would be many years before people stopped calling it "The Old Convention Center."

"Hey, Joe, I'm buying a condo at Fenty Plaza!"
"Where?"
"Fenty Plaza!"
"Where's that?"
"You know! 9th and H Street NW!"
"Oh, you mean where the old convention center used to be?"

I wonder what the Old Convention Center colorway would look like...

all the seasons and the times of your days all the nickels and the dimes of your days

Umm. I'm feeling a bit shell-shocked and if you came here because Melissa said to, thanks. I don't really want to talk about it just yet. So let's talk about yarn, shall we?

The majority opinion the poll results indicated that I should "Figure out the correct number of stitches for the larger size, and don't fuck it up this time." So I messed around with it and a few other patterns I found and that were sent to me (thanks, Lauren!) and came up with something that seemed to work tonight while watching the utterly forgettable Hayley and Hilary Duff film, "Material Girls." Lukas Haas should be tarred and feathered for agreeing to appear in this movie. I have no pics because umm. Only three rows done.

In any event, I did make one of the Rainy Day socks from the March MagKnits (what happened to MagKnits? Does anyone know? No April edition? No notification? Will there be a new one today?) in Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino (yes, the actual called-for yarn).
Look, I did a gusset, even. I hate gussets.My toe looks slightly messed up. I knit two rows shorter than suggested.Does it look bad?