This time I started taking Deva Vegan Vitamins Glucosamine and… uh. It works. I mainly got it for Kitti, but then decided to try it for myself. Mostly because the Hip & Joint for Cats has been working so well for Rita the cat.

I’m not saying my shoulder is perfect now, but it hurts so much less I can actually do stuff, so I keep moving it, so it doesn’t get worse. Baby steps, y’all.

I can’t wait to see what sort of spambots this post attracts.

My shoulder still hurts. I did eventually go to the Prompt Care place and got some extra strength pain killers. They don’t actually kill the pain, but they do bring it down from an 8 or 9 to a 5 or 6. I can sleep at night now and I’m not attempting to gnaw my arm off after a day at work. These are all things in the Win column (and how sad is it that a pain rating of 6 is a good thing?).

My doctor appointment is a week from today. I’ve already told Mim that if they try to push me off or tell me they want to do tests and x-rays before giving me a cortisone injection that she should get bail money ready for me. I might not have been kidding. I still have one good arm, after all.

Anyhow, back to the suffering for arts and crafts. I have made zero progress on the quilt I’m working on (I have 11 out of 1600 hexagons knit). I have most of the foot of the first of a pair of socks for Mim knit. I have barely made a dent in the Clapotis that would have been Mim’s birthday present (Mim is really getting shortchanged here, isn’t she? Go buy her something to help fill the void). It just hurt too much to knit for more than a few minutes at a time and that was frustrating so I just wasn’t doing it at all. So tonight I broke out the knitting tonight for the first time in weeks.

It still hurts. This is going to take a while. But dammit, I missed working on things.

I am not yet ready to try the violin again, though. That will absolutely have to wait until after the doctor appointment.

Anyhow. I have a referral to see an orthopedic surgeon for a cortisone injection.

… in December….

Like, a month from now.

For what will probably be a 15 minute visit where I tell the guy “it hurts when I do this” (and then he’ll say “So don’t do that.” because dude, if an orthopedic surgeon doesn’t know that joke then this world is more hopeless than I thought.)

So I ask you, dear viewing public (all four of you), what do I do if between now and then the pain gets unbearable? Can I go to the ER or an Urgent Care place and beg for help, complete with documentation that yes, it’s a real problem and I’m waiting to see someone so they’ll know I’m not a junkie looking for a fix? Or do I do my usual thing of just complaining loudly and often and working through the pain? Or (possibly the best option): see the urgent care guy while complaining loudly and often and annoying Kitti.

Because honestly, it hurts a lot. It’s no longer a “it hurts when I do this” thing, it’s a “it hurts all the time and it hurts more if I do this.” Most of the time it’s an 8 out of 10. Sometimes I forget how much it can hurt and I use my arm like a normal human being and then it’s a 10 out of 10. If I’m not really careful when I’m asleep (think about how difficult that is) we’re talking a 12 or a 13 of pain. I’m tired because I’m not sleeping well because the pain wakes me up. I’m tired because I spend the entire day hurting. I’m starting to stress out my other arm because I’m over-using it.

And for the first time in my life I hate having manual car windows and seatbelts because reaching back to get the belt hurts like hell and winding down the window is uncomfortable.

Seriously, I have a really insanely potent allergy to seafood — fresh fish, shellfish, saltwater fish, things that contain ground up bits of fish scales, etc. Most people just scoff and think I’m exaggerating. Rather than eat a tuna sandwich or smear cosmetics containing fish oil on my face to prove them wrong, I just shrug and hope it never happens to them.

I know about this allergy. I have always had this allergy. I know I cannot come into contact with anything that contains fish oil (I’m looking at you, Omega-3 enhanced products), including topical things (like cosmetics/soaps/shampoos that contain certain kinds of seaweed).

This is the important thing: I know I’m also allergic to skin contact with fish products (incidentally, you should feel bad for my cats).

Anyhow. The filter in my fishtank has the usual intake tube that has a grate to keep the fish from getting sucked up. The bottom feeder either objects to this device (I suspect she’d like to murder her roommates because she’s getting really large and would like the place to herself), or possibly she likes the fact that poop will get stuck to it, and she eats the poop. In either case, the grate device occasionally gets knocked off. Usually I take the net and get the part, turn off and unplug the filter, and lift the whole thing out to reattach it.

Not tonight. No. I couldn’t find the net, so I just reached into the tank, grabbed the grate, and popped it back onto the intake tube.

In the fifteen seconds or so it took me to talk to the kitchen to wash of my arm, my tattoo itched a little. While I was washing my hands and arm I realized it felt a little weird. Like all the lines were raised. This tattoo is a few years old, too, so it’s not like it’s newly-damaged or still-healing skin).

Oh. Right. Fish tank. Shed scales. Microtraces of fish protein. Contact reaction. Brilliant job, me.

Honestly, I should change the name of this blog from “A Strange Day” to “Could’ve Been Mensa” or “Ways in which I Fail at Life”.

But, like I said (PUT THE PHONE DOWN, MOM!), I’m fine. Antibacterial hand soap and a quick swipe of hydrocortisone cream and it’s not even raised now.

Five bucks says that my mom’s the first comment and that she says “You Know How I Worry” or something to that effect. ;)

I’m nervous, but not too nervous. Kitti has seen chiropractors before and I know a lot of people who see them regularly and love them. But it’s A New Thing and A Stranger and therefore I am Nervous. There’s not really a lot I can do about that.

The receptionist seems very nice — very soothing on the phone. That’s a plus right there. A shrill or demanding or snappish receptionist would’ve put me right off.

So I’m going to go, have an evaluation and probably X-rays, and he’ll ask me what’s wrong. I will say “It hurts when I do this.” To which the only acceptable response is “So don’t do that!” And there will be a pause for the laughtrack (I want the “I Love Lucy” laughtrack where you can totally hear Desi Arnaz in the group).

On another day there will be the “real” appointment where the doctor tells me that I have terrible posture, I spend too much time sitting at a computer and/or knitting, and I really shouldn’t sleep on my face with my arms folded up under me. At which point I’ll say “I know! But can you fix it?” And then he’ll say “For the right amount of money I can fix anything!” And I’ll go “How much money?” and he’ll say “How much have you got?” And again there will be a pause for the laughtrack before we continue.

A plan of treatment will be devised. A series of appointments will be made. Adjustments will happen. As I’m leaving, I will stop and say “Will I be able to play violin?” The doctor will say “Absolutely!” And then it’s my turn for the punchline. I think you all know it, so say it with me….

Thank you. Thank you. Please tip your server, and remember that tee-shirts are available in the lobby.

They won’t really drive me to suicide… but death really does seem like the better option right now. I’ve maxed out the antihistamines for the day and I’ve gotten no relief.

I will always check any sort of margarine for fish oil because it’s oily. But milk? Who even thinks to check plain, white milk for allergens at all? Except I did, because the package said “now with added Omega-3!” (or something to that effect).

I got a reply, which was nice. Except that it wasn’t, really.

The email:

As much as we would like to indicate a particular allergen prominently on the package, it is virtually impossible due to the great number of allergies and dietary restrictions some of which are voluntary.

They included a handy chart of what has what possible allergens in it. Most of them wouldn’t need to be stated (dairy products contain dairy! Peanut butter contains peanuts! Almond butter contains tree nuts!) At the end of their product list is this nice little disclaimer. Emphasis mine.

Extensive but not conclusive experience shows that people with fish allergies can, and are encouraged, to consume refined fish oils for the positive benefits of EPA and DHA Omega-3. However, no guarantee can be given that the oils are suitable for consumption by all individuals experiencing allergic reactions to fish.

It is not a requirement to “allergen label” highly refined oils from an allergen on consumer packaging in the U.S., however, it is included in the ingredients statements on all products containing that particular ingredient.

And they do list it. In light blue, tiny print.

What gets me is that the margarine I buy is Smart Balance. I buy it because right on the package (in bold, all caps) is the word VEGAN. So that’s easy, but putting FISH on the milk is hard? They can’t even turn it into bragging rights? “With Omega-3 from highly refined fish oils!” in a big banner on the package?

And what the hell is up with the calling out “voluntary dietary restrictions” anyhow? I think you can pretty much guarantee that someone who’s not having dairy by choice isn’t going to be buying milk to begin with, but your lacto-vegetarians will, and the the people with fish allergies will and we’re not going to expect there to be fish products in it. Jeebus. You don’t have to say “Warning: This milk contains milk” but “Warning: Here Be Fish Product!” would be really frickin’ nice.

Anyhow, he emails me to tell me he finally got around to scheduling the dentist appointment that had been repeatedly delayed because of the blizzards. He starts the email with “The good news is they looked at my x-ray again and it doesn’t have to be pulled at all” and then went on to tell me how he’d be taking the first and second of April off for the appointment.

This was his idea of a joke. I spent the rest of the afternoon thinking he was the biggest wimp in the world for needing two whole days off for a filling — even a filling all the way in the back. “Must be nice to have so much vacation time grumble-grumble” kind of stuff. So when he got home from work and said he’d been kidding, I called him a jerk. See, I have had appointments where I’ve shown up expecting to be told “Oh, that filling didn’t just fall out… your tooth is cracked” or “oh, yeah, that’ll be a filling in an awkward and uncomfortable place” and heard “Oh, it’s not that bad after all!” once they got another look at it.

I don’t think he’s a wimp for taking two days off for an extraction, though. Kitti is very very drug free (seriously, not even ibuprofen, aspirin, or allergy pills) so if he’s prescribed anything — even an antibiotic — it’s going to screw him up pretty big.

I would much rather have an extraction rather than a filling in the last molar any day. I’ve also decided that instead of another root canal, I’ll just go for extraction-and-replacement. Hopefully I won’t ever need another root canal, but I’m a realist about this — it’ll happen.