It appears the leg I had, the right leg I had is now 1/3 as fantastic as it was, having two vessels cut off to the lower leg which will mean I am left semi-functional and yes, fucking gimpy to some extent if the leg doesn’t fail entirely at all.

I have to say I have always been somewhat fascinated by people with missing limbs but I am not really that fucking ready to be one. I have some neuropathy which seems to correspond to only two toes on the right foot right now most of the time, but largely the issue is the lower leg is no longer getting the blood it needs to support a fully functioning and happy calf. But, like my kidney, you can live with only one will be a somewhat repeat theme in my life–but don’t take my facetiousness as a lack of gratitude.

The clot, not a DVT as it was arterial (that is a vein situation, this was an artery leaving the heart situation), showed up in a well-regulated coumadin environment which was tested weeks before in range and even during the incident, the measurement was perfect. I had messed up for a few days but nothing that could explain such a wild swing to grow a clot inside. The clot was blasted a few times in there–and as a result they did see other clots breaking free which they did show would be impeding blood to the lower right leg and foot in other places.

What this also means is the legs will be prone to clots, or rather the body itself given it’s learned a bad lesson apparently. I am on a baby aspirin and Plavix now, which doesn’t seem to have the same issues that lipitor had on my brain so I did give that up. They basically insinuated I should enjoy the time I have left without major complication–something I am putting in writing here. I do not want partial cerebral function to sustain a life inside of--there would be no point since my brain is my most revered feature, aside from maybe my mouth.

I will limp. I will be in pain. I might lose the leg is the story there but there is also the very clear underlying theme here. The clot went down over up. If it had gone to my head I would not have wanted to survive it. I would not be all there and the thing with brain injuries people tend to not remark on often–once the spot is black it is then dead and the information that was there can no longer be retrieved consciously or even unconsciously. I have had a few already and have been too ashamed to seek too far into where on the brain those were as it might have even thwarted me from revisiting my college aspirations as they were. Maybe someone should have leveled with me as I have never been a you can’t tell me what to do person. I might be a I don’t give a fuck what you think if I think something totally differently person, but I might have been more open to science vs emotion as I am a pretty fucking rational person when it comes down to it all. I know my limitations and yes, there are absolutely some. I am not going to be able to move to Boulder and bartend as we had been planning for an idea—my work will have to be entirely self-sustained and really–to go in any office at any point is not something that is going to live in my future too long. I am already intimidated enough. At this point I am going to try and win the lottery since the life one kinda ran me over and left me out here trying to pick the pieces up. To not have to go in an office and be able to work things out here, write up my stuff, create my movies and creative endeavors–shit, THAT is the life I am going to try and achieve because really–2 months 2 years, 10–my time is short.

The left leg also seems to be having its own issues just to keep it all interesting. But for now, I am trying to stomp life into the right one without sitting too long and to ensure I do not lose a leg I do not want to lose. CBD oil seems to be helping with the neuropathy I will admit–yes, it thins your blood and yes the other day I did think I might be too stupid to be alive after downing a few vials but I will tell you what–that day my foot felt the best it has in some time. Now I am separating doses one 600 mg dose twice a day to see how it goes and yeah–I am basically wet tissue paper walking around, but fuck it—if I can heal it through other means than medicine and all that shit, I am down.

One unfortunate outcome of this situation is I think the CBD oil might end up replacing the alcohol as that week I had stopped and then look what happened. Was it coincidence? I don’t know but obviously I have done pretty well on my own for a long time following my own whims. Did my quitting alcohol for a week bring this down on me. Maybe it did, since a habit like that might have most definitely affected those vessels. I mean, obviously right?

Few things predicated that. Lots of time lazying around, and no alcohol. Two things that very well could affect the blood’s ability to clot. Two things which I decided to do, and certainly things I need to possibly revisit but I cannot punish myself over. That doctor was basically like we don’t know, we promise nothing and no, vessels do not open up once they are closed like that, and sorry, we blasted some in your lower leg and foot, too, sorry.

Food. I might go on a blood type-based diet (I am of course A+ since I am such an A+ person). ha. Obviously not recognized by anyone but my own intentions. But anyways. I cried and I cried for my lost mobility yesterday–and I am now over it. You gotta take the punches when you get hit and just move on sometimes. It didn’t make me wistful to forgive any slights or any of that, not that kind of wistful–but the reality of what I am and what I can do now is set in a bit and it’s life, as fucking mean and shitty as it is, it’s what we get.