Mystery

well, the cause and origins of these floaters remain a mystery - even to a retina specialist...

Had an inital eye exam, then was off to have a angiogram of my eye. That was fun.
The secretary almost put me into a coma when she said: "and then they are going to inject a dye into your eye, I mean arm - hahahah - sorry about that!"

Not...

As I have said in the past - seen brain and spinal surgeries by the dozen, but anything to do with eyes? You might as well throw me off a building first cause there is no way I'm going to stay put for that!!

Had quite an allergic reaction to the dye - was not too pretty, almost passed out cold, could not move my muscles, had trouble breathing. I told the woman I was sensitive to things like that. She just ignored me. Hopefully I made her day like she made mine...

So from what little images they could capture before I collapsed, the doctor didn't see anything at all. "It's a mystery - there is nothing there..."

which is a good thing, but a bad thing.

if there is nothing there - what is causing the floaters!!!!!

So the question remains - do I stay on my mood stabilizers and hope these spots and strings don't cloud my vision completely, or do I venture into the land of the unknown, and take my chances with coming off this med and perhaps onto another?

The only drawback with going off the lamictal is that I could spiral into a deep state of darkness. I'm managing now - back up on my 125mg dose (from the 112 I was trying for a week until life crumbled to a million pieces) which gives me a little more pep and positive outlook - more than I had a few days ago.

I mean, c'mon. I'm going to new york because I'm part of a group photo show in a brilliant kick ass gallery which a curator who really believes in my work - how could I not be excited?!?!

Well, until a few days ago, I wasn't, and that scared me.

So I will take on the big apple, medicated and happy, floaters and all, and then, once back, will look at my options again. I can only take one day at a time at this point, and perhaps, that's a good thing...

doctor crisis

and to top things off from last night's post, I got a call today from my psychiatrist - he's leaving the province - going out west leaving me in the lurch - again.

I've been through 4 so far - one went on maternity leave, the other retired, the other just gave up on me, and the one before this went to another hospital.

now # 5.
Changing doctors is a big hassle - having to go over years of past history of medications and symptoms, their learning curve to how I respond to medications, and with my complicated life story and chemical sensitivity, it's a huge case load from one patient.

not to mention that if we don't see eye to eye about my next leg of treatment - that means grief for both of us because I know what I need, what I can't and can take. I am my own best advocate for better mental health. Having read up on almost all the medications out there, and having taken 95% of them already, who better to say what works and what doesn't?

but it's also the whole "investing time and effort, personal self exposure/vulnerabilities" once too many times, and to have to do it all over again - it's taxing on the mind and body.

Like I needed this to happen now...

don't feel like tempting fate by asking what's next, but it's in the back of my mind.

How hard it is to hope that tomorrow will be a better day when today and yesterday began to flood my hopes that things can actually get worse before they get better when they've gone past the worst case scenario...

When the light fails to come

When the light fails to come
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty

I like to make it my personal policy to be honest with people - honest with my photography, honest with myself.

it seems that the past few months have taken more of a toll on me than I had expected or hoped. I find myself slipping into a darker abyss that is deeper than I had first imagined.

Since I had increased my mood stabilizers (in January - to help me cope with my mother's cancer returning) I have been gradually losing my eyesight. It started out with small transparent floaters (little clear spots, thread like lines) which have now become so bad that I can barely see clearly.

Imagine looking through a bug splattered windshield in the rain - that is what I see on a daily basis, and it's only getting worse.

My options so far are - get off the mood stabilizers and run the risk of falling into a deeper depression/severe manic episodes, or have my eyesight slowly degenerate and keep an even keel to my life.

It's ironic - just when things were starting to smooth out for me, life was begining to get somewhat balanced, I was slowly finding peace and happiness, I have to now decide: which vision will I chose to live without - a photographic one, or a one of a stable life/mood.

After seeing my ophthalmologist (who was puzzled by the condition), I'm going to see a retina specialist on Thursday who will then decide what the next step will be, but from what I've been told, this condition is irreversible, and if not taken care of, could progress into severe retinal toxicity which could eventually lead to blindness...

A photographer who slowly goes blind - oh the irony...

It's been a week since my incremental decrease in Lamictal - and I'm already feeling it.

Find myself weeping uncontrollably, the rage is begining to sir deep inside my belly. Unprovoked, I fall to pieces and shake uncontrollably at increasing intervals. And this despite the fact that I have been ever so diligent about going to the gym at least 3 up to 4 times a week

"Depression and anxiety - Exercises eases symptoms"

It's been a month and things are just getting worse - how can it be? It seems if I had been doing everything right?

Except decrease my mood stabilizers in the hopes of saving my eyesight.

But what do I do?
Trade apples for oranges?

I'm at such a loss - so confused.

and today, mom told me how scared she is that her next doctor's appointment will be the one with the fatal diagnosis - because if the cancer comes back, there is nothing they can do except remove more organs, more tissue, until it has taken up so much of her body, all she can do is succumb to the disease...


Now, I must give my eyes and mind a rest and hope that tomorrow will be brighter and clearer...

Letter from a good friend at the other end of the world

This is a letter from a friend who is in Asia right now. Far away from home, he has lost may things close to him, but keeps on moving forward with such grace and beauty which completely mesmerizes and inspires me.

I wrote him about my upcoming eye doctor appointment (he also had one nasty story of an eye operation that almost made me pass out cold after reading about it) about the death of his mother last year, and how leaving a city which he once called home, to uproot memories and emotions can be both a painful and liberating experience.

This was his reply.

Thank you B - thank you for understanding and letting me understand you too.



jeez, tears in my eyes and heart. you get it, and then some. thank you so much for taking the time to share all of this. so felt and appreciated. and i really hope the appointment with the doctor goes well. keep me posted on that.

as far as mom goes... that one hurts like no other. something i thought about yesterday while walking though, is that it's important we don't go into some sort of depressive inner retreat when dealing with such matters... and thus become a little more closed off.

these things are already hard enough ... like trying to grow flowers from a soil made of concrete. no sense in making the equation any more difficult to piece together and decipher.

the focus should be on the flowers before you, with no attention paid to how long they'll last. immerse yourself in the goodness of them now, and then remain a dominion for more to grow from later.

it's all we can do. be strong. i know you have it within you to do nothing but this.

b

photosensitive.com

Here she is! My mom over on the far right side of the frame!

I could not be in Toronto for the opening so Lù_
took this great shot for me (thanks Lù_!!) and after going on the site, I see that my mom is there again - on the contact page.

And you can actually see her photo via the main page - look for "mothers" and scroll a few pages over.

What an amazing project this was to be a part of - and to see so many others whose lives were touched by the disease is quite humbling. I know she will be so happy when I show her this photo.

She has new scars now from her latest surgery - a geography of pain and healing, a bodyscape of disease and survival. Those will be for our next project

dancing with the stars

I truly have hope that you never have to go through any more bad stuff because the astrological stars say that you are near them this year

this was from a good friend who knows his stars

I know some of you might say: "That's all bs, and that you can control your own fate/destiny", but there is only so much you can actually control, the rest you have to work around and make due with what you have/get.

But with all that said - any hint that more shit my be flying by way express freaks me out.
I think worst case scenario - mom's cancer comes back aggressively, giving her a few months to live, same with my father, my 85 year old grandmother also goes quickly, I'm flat broke and have to sell all that I own just to make ends meet, my love life falls apart and both of my cats die (and keep in mind - worst case scenario - all of this takes place in a span of less than 6 months), and I end up losing my mind and end up in a mental hospital (actually, that would not seem so bad - a break and escape from all these horrible things...)

sure, I can look at all of these worst case scenarios and say either:

a) lets go and hide in the fallout shelter and bring lots of water
or
b) piss off!

but on today's cold fall-like day, worst case scenario seems like best case scenario, while the world quickly spins before my floater speckled eyes...

marketing

I went to drop off my frames yesterday - picked up the prints, five of them, for the show in New York in June. As we laid them out on the table, a woman who was having her own pieces framed looked over to us. Judy glanced over and took a peek at my work.

"oh K, those are simply stunning!'
The woman's curiosity got the best of her. She walked over to have a peek.

"she's a photographer you know..."

And as this stranger stood behind my shoulder, I began to shrink and blush. Somebody was looking at my photos with a critical eye. Obviously knowledgeable about art, her opinion was something that made me curious, yet at the same time, apprehensive.

"those are really beautiful. Very beautiful..."

Her eyes fixed on the ethereal bathroom shots of a dancing body.

"would you like to see the rest?"

And as I fanned out the rest of the 4 photos, the 5 year old in me began to blush and fidget nervously. What would she say if she saw the rest of them? Would she flip if she knew they were me? And where do I get off taking these photos of myself and call them art?

"that's me. These are all self-portraits."

And like the opening of a flower, each image delicately unfolded and exposed a little piece of my soul. Each image my personal journey translated through pixels.

transfixed (I'm not exaggerating here...) she nodded and paused.

"wow - these are really spectacular."

And looking at me - (well, she was about a foot and a half taller than me, or had I began to slouch?) said: "Thank you. These are really wonderful."

My face turned beet red, and quickly turned to the young lady with the 50 shades of white mats in her hands.

Like a kid caught with their hand in the candy jar, I felt guilty for showing my art, guilty for having somebody like it so much that, had I prompted with a few words like: "they are for sale you know..." could have landed me a few hundred dollars in my pocket. I felt guilty for entertaining the possibility of making a buck off my art.

And as she left, I heard her say goodbye to J, and then a separate salutation to me - the artist.

Kicking myself several times, I knew that my first instinct should have been to whip out my business card and a follow up question/confirmation that she was in fact, interested in buying my art; but that moment had passed, and running down the street after her just would have looked psychotic. But I did tell the girl to pass along my card to her, just in case she was really interested.

Getting into mom's car (who had been waiting patiently for almost 45 minutes), I sighed deeply.

"Guess what. I think I was about to sell some of my unframed photos, but I chickened out."

"You have to get used to the fact that people might want to buy your art. Think like a marketing person. Don't be afraid to sell!"

and that moment rung true - flashed of some of the photographers I know, who brazenly prostitute their work, despite it being total shit (from a technical point of view) to anybody who has a pulse, and manage to end up in magazines, with book deals and in high profile galleries while I carefully and possessively protect my work - afraid to let it out to explore the "big world" for fear of being judged harshly, or falling and skinning its knees. My art should have wings, and my whole being as an artist is to touch lives, not to make a buck, but hell, if it happens, that's a bonus.

No, it's not a bonus, it's a necessity at this point.
With no job or prospects on the horizon, I need to make my photography work for me. Lots of blood and sweat have gone into each image, and having fallen into debt for more than 30 grand from a cinema and a photography degree, I have earned the right to market my work for maximum profit - and knock on wood - having sold three pieces in the past six months, I think it's finally starting to happen.

And with another New York show under my belt (I think it's coming up on the 5th or 6th), it's hight time I toot my own horn and show the world what I've got.

Amen to that!

I am wilma flintstone...

Letter to a friend about my experience with the eye doctor yesterday



I was gonna call you after my eye doctor's last night - but I was in bad shape. He gave me some drops to dilate my pupils and it f-d me up big time. I could not see 2 feet in front of me -
had to call e to pick me up at the hospital - my pupils were as big as frying pans - I swear - with the red hair, I looked like Wilma Flintstone.

Seriously - no joke. E looks like Fred, and me beside him...?

I was waiting to step into his car with the cement wheels...


So I was thinking that these acid eye drops would only last 30 minutes tops. I almost flipped when the doc
told me up to 4 hours!!!

So aside from age - he said stress could be a possibility - but what worried him more was the fact
that I've been on plaquenil for 10 years. "retina Toxicity is a possibility with plaquenil - the effects are cumulative - so I'm sending you to see a retina specialist"

Yum. More eye poking around.




Nothing freaks me out more than eyeballs.
For the sake of F&*K, I've taken pictures of brain and spinal surgeries, and that was a walk in the park when it comes to eyes.

I go beyond the heebeegeebees - I feel ill and have freaky out of body experiences that are not pleasant.

after the doctor finished burning my pupil with these lights that ended up making me stars until this morning, I'm dreading what this RETINA doctor is going to do....

I guess I can always go trick or treating early as a member of the modern stone aged family...