cup of coffee

Cup of coffee

I was up for at least 20 hours yesterday. Pain was the chief factor in keeping me up. Other than the ghosts in my head. Talking about stuff stirred things up. My goofy therapist thinks that I should write about it but there is really nothing to write about. What happened, happened and writing about it is not going to change the facts of the matter. I don’t think I will ever get closure to what I am feeling but oh well. Such is life.

I made breakfast this morning, pancakes. I didn’t think it was going to exhaust me but it did. It also flared up my sciatica. The temp is dropping so of course my back is acting up. But I really wanted a cup of coffee but I couldn’t make it. I was in too much pain. I waited till after therapy to make it. I used my last K-cup of Starbucks coffee. I just hope I will have at least 10 extra bucks next week to get another pack. Coffee is very good made on the Kuerig, though it is stronger than the coffee at Starbucks. It just is brewed that way.

Been listening to Pandora more than my MP3 player. The nice part of listening to Pandora is you don’t have to buy the songs you are hearing, unless you want it really bad. But it’s a nice alternative to my 200 songs that I have been hearing since last year. Those songs are about 15 hours of play time, though the shuffle doesn’t work right. And today the player just stopped working so I decided to listen to Pandora instead of turning the app back on. It is so aggravating that it will stop playing in the middle of a song.

I am not planning on going anywhere today. I am feeling really down since my therapy appointment. I need to shower and I really don’t feel like it. Thursday when I have my appointment with my father, I have decided to wear a diaper and I am not looking forward to it. The only bright side of it is that I will be dry. Thing is, I showered yesterday so I don’t feel like I should shower today. It is going to take every ounce of my being to do this task. I just am not looking forward to it. And I know it will suck all the energy from me. I really don’t remember the last time I took a shower that woke me up rather than tired me out. Obviously before I was in chronic pain. I could just cry right now for some odd reason. I just am so tired of being tired and in pain all the fricken time. But the coffee I had did its job and I feel a little more awake than I was before.

My psychiatrist has nicknamed the new part, Jekyll. I think it came out while I was in therapy today. I almost blurted out “I hate you” while I was on the phone with my therapist. It just came out of no where. I just got really angry but I didn’t show my anger. I kind of stepped back and talked really low. It was weird. Last night I finished reading the book of Jekyll and Hyde. It was very strange but enlightening. I loved the author’s use of language. It was a very good book. I don’t know that it has anything to do with dissociation, but the fact that evil could exist between one man and two parts is incredible. Hyde is like my evil part. He holds the suicidality that I hold close to my chest. Jekyll is the part I am clueless about. Though the part in the book is that Jekyll is benevolent and charitable, my part is angry, far from being kind. He holds hatred and disdain.

I do wonder if this part is what has been stirring up the memories I have been experiencing. It just is making feel really uneasy and I don’t want to deal with them. I rather they just stay where ever they were before I remembered them. They are not flashbacks, thank goodness. But the images I am seeing might as well be intrusive thoughts and I don’t like what I am seeing. And all of this started because I drank a cup of coffee that woke up my consciousness instead just taking a nap.

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Don’t dream it’s over

Don’t dream it’s over

I heard this song today and am reminded that despite a long road to recovery, I am still stuck with the condition known as Cauda Equina Syndrome (CES). Today I talked a lot about it in my interview with the 1st years of medical school. There were like 5 or 6 students and three physicians in the room, one of whom was the person that interviewed me. He knew nothing about CES as he didn’t ask me one red flag symptom. He was an older gentleman so I am sure that he never heard of such a syndrome before. My psychiatrist was grateful I brought it to the students. She said she owes me one. But I don’t really know what that means. I just laughed because it was fun doing the interview.

My therapist read the last blog post that I sent her. She said that I summed up my traumatic experiences all in one paragraph. This left me feeling like “what is she talking about” so I had to read it. I always feel like my writing is cathartic so once the words are in a word doc or a piece of paper, they quickly lose their power in my memory banks. The paragraph was powerful and I couldn’t believe I wrote what I did. It made me wonder if I am ready to face the trauma I have endured over my lifetime, just one piece of it anyways. It is something that I have not discussed in great detail, not even with my therapist. But there is a song that keeps reminding me of what I went through and so it is on my mind a little more these days.

I have a beef with my doctor’s office. I saw my PCP’s Nurse Practitioner (NP) for a blood pressure check. My blood pressure is still in prehypertensive range. Not good. So instead of playing with the new blood pressure med I am on, she decides to add another medication. WTF. She was almost a half hour late so I couldn’t argue as I had to meet with my psychiatrist, and even my psych was like why am I being put on a third medication for the same condition?? I emailed my doc’s office to sort this out. I am not going to take it because it also acts as a diuretic, something I don’t need to be on. I already have issues with my bladder leaking and me being on something that is supposed to make the kidneys work better just isn’t going to fly with me. I also said that in the email, about the leaking piece, not about it not flying with me. I have enough problems and don’t really want to start wearing pads or diapers. So far I have been lucky to avoid them, but I think on days that I am going to be out more than a few hours, I might have to consider wearing them. I would use pads but they just don’t fit in boxers. I really feel bad for men who have to use tighty whities for pads. Least that is what I think they would have to wear. But I hate them as much as some men do.

I was talking to a friend today about a CES issue. She didn’t reassure me and said that I should talk to my neurologist about it. I haven’t seen her in over a year. And this issue I rather not be apart of my medical record. So now I am conflicted on what to do. I don’t even know if going to my neuro will help me with the issue. Course the easy thing is to stop doing what I am doing to cause the issue and problem solved! But I don’t know if I am having more nerve damage or not by ignoring the issue. What worries me is that I have a disc that is touching the nerve root of my issue. It isn’t compressing the nerve root so no one thinks I should have surgery. Although I am not advocating for more surgery as I most likely will need a fusion, I think that might be why I am having my issue. Either that or my nerves have suddenly have become awakened and now I just got to deal with them. Either way, it doesn’t look promising to me and it is an especially embarrassing topic for me. If I do see my neuro, at least I won’t have to mail her my book. I could just hand it to her!

The thing about my neuro is that she is great and all but her office staff sucks like yesterday’s garbage. Making an appointment is always a hassle, getting through to the office is always a hassle and then if I don’t have the copay, they cancel my appointment. Last time, they told me the wrong day of my appointment and I got charged for it. I have not paid it because they screwed up, not me. If they didn’t change the original appointment to begin with, none of this would have happened.
It has been a month now that I have been on an antidepressant. Since that time, my suicidality has decreased dramatically. I might not be euphoric, but I am doing okay. I don’t have mood swings like I used to. My sleep is still wonky but it’s better than it has been. The only sucky thing is that no matter what time I go to bed, I am always up before six. And on days like today where I had to be all over the hospital between my two appointments, it sucks. Even though I worked there for fourteen years, I goofed and made a wrong turn, thinking it would take me to the building I needed to go. NOPE. No access from the 2nd floor. It sucked because I then had to walk back to where I came from to go outside to get to the building I needed to be in. Lot of walking today. And my ankle is thanking me, oh so kindly. NOT.

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Sleepy Sunday

Sleepy Sunday

I slept most of the day today. I only woke up to use the facilities and then go back to sleep. I got up around 3. I then played my game for a little bit. I had some stuff to harvest but didn’t feel like doing it last night.

I think I leaked while I was sleeping. It has me a little bit worried but I will be taking a shower shortly. My clothes just felt wet. But they were dry to the touch. Very weird. I really have to psych myself up for showering because all I want to do is sleep.

I was having weird dreams, like I was still in the hospital and stuff. I woke up in sweats though my room is cool. It is a very cool day today. My mother has the windows and kitchen door closed. She normally has them open. She made chicken soup for dinner.

My leg is hurting me and I really don’t know if I want to shower. I know I need to. It has been more than a few days since I last showered. But if my leg is hurting, showering is going to be difficult.

I must have been in a bitchy mood last night. I read and re-read the text I sent my therapist and it makes no sense. Good luck to her if she can figure it out. I was really tired yesterday as I was up at 4 in the morning. I guess that is why I am so sleepy today. The weird thing is, that I haven’t taken anything that would make me so sleepy. I haven’t take not one pain pill all day. All I did take was my blood pressure medicine.

Still can’t find the pill that escaped. If I don’t find it soon I might have to take a week off the pill so that I am back on schedule. I just don’t know where it would have gone. It’s a small white pill against gray carpeting so it should be easy to spot. It is pissing me off that I can’t find it. I keep hoping it shows up but it hasn’t so far. Rascal.

I think I am going to go back to sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open typing this.

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Saturday Blog 10

Saturday Blog 10

I have been up since 4 this morning. I woke up in pain and have been unable to go back to sleep. All I have been doing is playing my Facebook game. I made breakfast around 6.

What is freaking me out is that last night when I was preparing my meds, my most important pill escaped. It rolled off the bed and I have been unable to find it. In trying to find it just now, I have aggravated my sciatica. Monday when I have the “mock” interview, I plan on that being my chief complaint. I think that will be a nice way to introduce CES to the interviewer. I hope I don’t have to explain what CES is. I really don’t because every time I have to explain it to a medical professional, my heart sinks in the confidence I have in the individual. Although CES is considered a rare condition, I know of about or more than 500 cases in countries around the world. Those are the ones that are true cases. But what doctors don’t get, is the aftercare of dealing with CES. Often the immediate condition is dealt with (often a ruptured disc or broken vertebraes), the person left with this condition requires care that is outside of surgery’s realm. Pain is a common occurrence. I know that for me, I still had back pain after surgery. It wasn’t until I was on regular opioid medication that I was free from this pain. Now I am taking it because it caused another condition, complex regional pain syndrome, in my nerve damaged left foot and ankle. I never recovered 100%. Plus I got hit with this condition for a second time, 5 years later. I think that is what “did me in”, so to speak. If I didn’t have this for a second time, I think I would have recovered fully. But alas, that didn’t happen.

Today I am still dealing with the effects of Cauda Equina Syndrome (CES). I am in pain nearly every day in my ankle and foot, sometimes my leg if the pain is really bad. It usually hurts because I don’t wear my AFO (ankle foot orthotic). I did a lot of activity on Thursday and I am still dealing with the after effects. I find that if I do a lot, I pay for it later, sometimes up to three days. It sucks.

I am in a lot of pain right now because the temperature dropped. It is cold and my foot hates it. I just took some pills to ease it. I am going to try and take a nap as being up since 4 am is not good. My foot feels like there are ice cubes on it, it feels so cold, even with a sock on it. But I am now back in my bed rather than my sister’s kitchen watching Spongebob. I was watching my niece for a little bit today.

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Meeting with my Pdoc

Meeting with my Pdoc

I found out that my doc wanted to really know what had happened last week. I had emailed her to let her know that I had a dissociative episode and the next thing I know she wants to meet with me. I initially had an appointment with her on Friday but she moved it up to today. I was surprised that my email generated such concern, but then it is not usual for me to have these dissociative episodes. I told her everything that I had told my therapist this past week about it. She kept on calling the new person Hyde, and I had to correct her that it wasn’t Hyde, but another person. I gave a description of what went on, before I fell asleep that night. I still remember in detail about what went on because I was in somewhat control. It was just scary to me because the person inside me was so angry.

She, like my therapist, had no explanation for me. She knows that I am not DID but I do dissociate. The thing was, as I told her, the alter was familiar. I know I have felt him before but this was before I knew about dissociation and the like. I also told her that I was under heavy narcotics and she thinks that instead of me hallucinating, I dissociated. But if that were the case, this would happen more often as I do take these meds frequently. I have to, to keep my pain levels from driving me to suicide. She knows I need my pain medication. I still think that low blood sugar contributed more than just taking my meds.

Before we concluded, she asked me if I wanted to do the mock interview for her 1st year medical students. I said sure and she specifically wants me to talk about Cauda Equina Syndrome (CES). That is not a problem. I have talked about it before and I can certainly talk about it again. My brace should be sufficient cause to raise an eyebrow or two. The only thing that sucks is that I have to be interviewed by the same older woman as last year. She intimidated me and kept my answers short. I couldn’t elaborate because I felt like she lost interest in what I was saying a few sentences into the answers to her question. It was like I should only be saying yes or no to her questions, which is not possible when you are trying to teach medical students about something as complex as CES.

As we were talking about Hyde, she asked me if I read the book. I told her I didn’t and so she recommend that I read it. I got a free download of it on Kindle. I will read it after I make some progress with my Civil War book. I have so many books that I am in the middle of that I hate to start a new one. She considered me calling the new “he” Jekyll. I wouldn’t mind that.

She asked me what I wanted to be called. I said GC. She asked why I didn’t go for Alex, I said it didn’t fit for me and I tried Mike for a year. GC just seems like a good name to choose and she agreed.

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Thirteen Years Later

Thirteen years later

I started writing a little bit about the attacks on Sept 11th, 2001, but then I realized I am not a political individual and my opinions may not be heard without some come back. I do know this. After thirteen years, our troops are still not home and maybe fighting another battle in the years to come. Now the enemy seems to be ISIS, whatever that stands for. I see the reports on Yahoo News on my twitter feed. Each day I realize that we are getting closer to another world war. I hope I am wrong for my nieces and nephew’s sake.

I had my appointment with my father today. Appointment was scheduled for 0930. An hour later, we see the doc. Never fails. It went well overall. But I am tired because I didn’t get my coffee this morning. Because my bus was late, I had to get coffee at the convenience store. I didn’t have time to walk to Starbucks.

I was able to remember the power cord to charge my laptop in case it became low on battery. But you think I remembered to bring my phone charger? No. It didn’t occur to me until I got to Starbucks and was checking my FB feed. I still have time to go home and get it but then, by the time I get home, it will be time for me to go back out again. I hate having an appointment so far apart from each other. But I rather be in Starbucks than at the hospital. I went to the one in my home town rather than the one in Boston. No need to stay in town when I can be elsewhere and won’t bump into people I know. Someone at the docs office recognized me from high school. I never seen her before nor did I recognize her. I didn’t even get her name, but she knew me. Oh well.

I desperately want a nap. I might ride the trains to kill some time. I slept really good last night, until my alarm woke me up at 0730. I forgot to pack my lunch that I made before going to bed last night. Now I will have to buy lunch. But I am not hungry as I just had breakfast, LOL.

Another day that goes by that I don’t make an effort to get my car out of the driveway. I need to call a junk place and get it out. They will actually pay me for pick up so I don’t know why I am procrastinating. Google will give me at least 10 places I can call. I just don’t know what to say. I have problems talking with people on the phone. I rather text or email them. But for this, I just cannot do that. I did call one place before I went into the hospital, but they didn’t call me back. They were going to pay me at least $200 for the car. Oh well. I will get another place. At this point, I really just want the car gone. It is literally falling apart and won’t survive another winter sitting there.

The temp for today was supposed to be in the 80s and humid. It is neither. There was also a call for rain but now it’s been pushed to the evening. I am glad because I hate carrying my laptop if there is a chance of rain. But when I left the house, it didn’t look like rain and the weather was in the upper 60s. I hope it doesn’t get to be 80. My back will hurt big time. That is one thing I hate about the temperature changes. Drastic shifts always cause my spine to hurt. I have arthritis in my lower back and I can feel the changes in temp when it is 20 degrees or more. Last winter was horrible. I was hurting almost every other day because the temp kept on going from 50s to 30s or lower. Snow and rain don’t really affect me as much. I long for the day when it was just my knees that hurt from the weather. I have moved passed that since my back surgeries, oddly enough, thirteen years ago. Least for the first two. The third and 4th would come five years later.

I have decided to conserve battery power by listening to Pandora as I sit in Starbucks writing this. It’s not the same music that is on my MP3 player but it’s music. I got 3 hours before I have to go to my appointment. Time is crawling. My leg is hurting me with the brace on. I just loosened it so that it’s not irritating me so much. I hate being in the AFO all day but it’s better safe than sorry as I am trying to avoid pain. I am not walking or anything. I am just sitting while I am typing this. It annoys me that I can do nothing, yet still be in pain. Drives me bonkers.

Just got a “trend” alert about Gmail. If you use it, please change you password immediately. Hackers were able to publish 5 million passwords online. I just changed mine, though I hardly use it since the privacy factor is gone. I still have it just in case someone uses it. Now it’s mostly junk mail I get. I also had to change my therapist’s password. I had set up an email for her so she could read my blog but it never worked out. Turns out texting her the link to my blog works better for her. She is not tech savvy.

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ramble 628

I had therapy today. I have to say that this new development has my therapist’s curiosity piqued. We tried talking about it today but there was nothing new. Things have settled down some and I think I am back to being “me” again. She didn’t have a chance to read the letter I wrote her last night. I just told her the contents and thankfully, I didn’t have to read it to her.

Though it is still early for the poll to close, the majority of people that voted (9) wants me to continue this blog. So I will write every day, even if I don’t feel like. But there maybe some days that I am unable to write. Tomorrow is one of those days. I am hoping that the stress of the day won’t stir things up. I have my father’s appointment in the morning. I hope the doc is on time or close to it, as last time we were there almost all morning. Granted my father was late getting there so that didn’t help matters. If we manage to get out before 12 I will go to my second home (Starbucks) and also will be bringing my laptop so I can blog, possibly, or write in my journal. I have slightly given up on the short story collection book that I have been working on. I found out they don’t do well. I still haven’t heard from the agent. It has been a little more than a week now. I am half expecting an email saying “sorry not interested” or something to that effect. I have 3.5 weeks left to know of an interest.

Funny thing is, I don’t think I have told my therapist this bit of information, LOL. Since we have been dealing with the DID stuff, I really have time to tell her or mention it. I guess if something happens by chance and I do get an agent, then I will let her know.

I have to take a shower today. Thing is I don’t want to because my ankle is acting up. I took some pain meds so if it calms down enough and I have a window of no pain, I will try and take advantage and shower. That is how my life has become. Usually taking it in the morning is better than during the day or evening. But sometimes if I take a morning shower, it drains me and I won’t be able to do anything the rest of the day. And tomorrow I need all my spoons with me so no shower. It has to be tonight at the latest.

I was singing to one of the Luke Bryan songs on my MP3. I was just mouthing the words because I know my mother wouldn’t be able to hear me anyways. She now thinks I am “happy”. She also bitched that I don’t help her around the house. Well, I got a bad ankle so I can’t do much. She said she was “lazy” and doesn’t know why. I can tell her why but she wouldn’t like it. She is overweight and depressed. And for someone that has COPD, that isn’t good. But does she do anything about it? NOOOOO. She also is in chronic pain with her knees and back. Does she take something for it? Nope. Not even so much as an aspirin. Fucking kills me that she is so stubborn. There are medications out there to help her and she just doesn’t want to be on them. I can understand. I was there where she was. But I wouldn’t be able to function, at all, if I didn’t take the pills I take, including my psych meds. Sure, I have problems paying for my meds, everyone does, but she also has diabetes and her insulin is ridiculously expensive. It pisses me off that her test strips are free but her insulin costs an arm and a leg. She needs her insulin more than she needs the test strips!

Today is National World Suicide Prevention Day. One of my groups, the depression and chronic illness one, a woman was saying all she thought about was suicide 100%. I gave her the suicide number to call as well as the text number in case she felt more comfortable with that. I then find out through one of the admins that we lost two group members through suicide the past two weeks. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t force them to drink.

It is weird that a month ago, I was wallowing in the depths of suicidal depression and it wasn’t until I started back on an antidepressant that I started feeling better. I still was suicidal during the first few weeks, and especially after Robin Williams died. I remember writing to my writing partner, saying it was my turn now. I was in the hospital so there was no way I could try. And after I left, I found I didn’t want to try. I still had the ideas in my head, but the motive behind them were not as strong as they were the first couple of weeks in the hospital. So even though I didn’t get the support I wanted, the hospital did do something.

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Posted in suicide attempt

Blog on hold?

Blog on Hold?

I have been going through some unpredictable things the past week. It has affected my writing, to a degree. Actually, I am more terrified to write because of what has happened. So I am going to try this blog poll thing. If you would like me to continue writing every day, vote. If you think I need a hiatus for a time, vote. If you think I am a moron and the blog is totally worthless, vote that too. By the end of the week, I will make my decision but would like feedback before doing so.

Thanks
Midnight Demon

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Games, mindwise and otherwise

Games, mindwise and otherwise

So, I joined a group for my Facebook game, Pioneer Trail, because some of the neighbors are no longer player out of my 125 people. I got new neighbors that play actively. But I still have not received my stuff that I need. I am behind in my missions because I was in the hospital. Still not up to speed with the current missions. And today I got really pissed off because I found out you needed to complete a mission inside a mission to get the stuff you need. I stopped playing and just collected rewards off other people. It was easier to do this than send out the stuff I needed in return.

I then had therapy in the afternoon. I would have preferred lunch with my aunt. My therapist read the blog I posted that had another “alter” and boy, did we talk about this for some time. She wanted me to read the paragraph to her and I wanted nothing more to do with the letter. I told her the handwriting didn’t change, but, it sort of did. I wrote a journal entry prior to writing the letter and the handwriting was different than that of the journal. The letter’s handwriting was more sloppy than that of the journal. AND the last thing I wrote was “good night” in Italian. I remember writing most of the letter except the last paragraph. That last paragraph has my mind going in directions I didn’t think were possible. My therapist thinks that it was a part of myself that is angry with her, and she is okay with it. But my “core self” is not okay with it. I hate losing control like I did. And then the fact I slept soundly afterwards is a little bizarre, to me anyways. My therapist thinks it was a way to access the different parts of me through my writing. I just think it is one big game. And at the end of it, my alter is going to succeed in killing me. I thought, up until now, I just had one, Mr. Hyde. Now that I have this unnamed alter inside and it is a he. There were crazy circumstances that allowed this to happen. One, I was on heavy pain medication. Two, I was exhausted from being up very early in the morning. Three, I had lack of sustenance for most of the day. (I didn’t eat anything after I had my mocha that morning.) So all of this seems to factor in. Today I didn’t eat much, except for dinner. I skipped lunch because I just wasn’t hungry. The 4th factor was that my annoyance level was high and I was angry because of dealing with my father that day that didn’t go the way I wanted it to. I had expected to spend no more than twenty minutes for his blood draw and it was almost an hour. That lead to my further blood sugar withdrawal. It was also hot that day, and I tend to be cranky in the heat. I just cannot tolerate it. Add all these factors in, no wonder I needed an escape of some sort and that alter wanted so badly to be let out. But I mistook it for Hyde. I even said in the letter, here is Hyde. But NONE of the writing was his. It was not a suicidal letter/paragraph. It was just someone screaming at my therapist that he was in charge and that you have to let her go, something to that effect. It also spoke of my transgender issues, stating that my therapist should give up the nonsense of calling me a him. Even as I am writing this, I am getting scared it might come out again. The rule that was drilled into me when I was younger was that what went on in the house, stayed in the house. I wasn’t to let anyone know of what was going on. I acted like the man of the house because I was the oldest, and I took this responsibility seriously. Unfortunately, my sisters were not the “good” ones like I was in school. They had their own agendas. They still do.

What troubles me is that I now have displayed a couple of alters while writing. It scares me that this is an outlet for them because it is possible for them to come out when I least expect it to. I think I have some control but what if I lose that control? I haven’t discussed this with my therapist but I think she can agree that my “core self” is in control the majority of the time. It is only when I “choose” to let loose the alter that it comes out. But then I worry about dissociating. That is a different set of rules. The only time I can clearly recall dissociating was last year when I “lost” a few hours and blogged something without my knowledge of it. I blamed Hyde because it was suicidal in nature. I call Hyde, Hyde because it is the “evil” side of me, the dark side that no one sees. It is a benign side, I know it won’t hurt me but it might if let loose for too long. Being suicidal is just too unpredictable. Words can take action very quickly.
My therapist wants me to “embrace” this other side of me. She is curious about it. I just wonder if we were meeting face to face if this person would come out more. It really is hard to predict. I didn’t know this one existed until last week. It was scary. I rather not have this side come out again. But only if I am writing. If it wants to write, I guess I could let it out and write. Just as long as I go to sleep afterwards.

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