WTF was with this f---ing day?

Moving sucks all the way around, but today was in rare form.  Right now I just want to go to sleep, but I have to write about this or else I'll be awake all night freaking out about it, despite the big handful of pills I took.

It started out well enough.  I had my things together, including  nice mug of hot coffee.  I went out to the car to get started on my major chore for the day: go through the storage until and find any and all linens that needed washing before moving into my new place.  Right off the bat I fell on the sheet of ice under the snow and soaked through my clothes.  Ouch, but now a new outfit before I left home (glad I decided not to wear the new Ugg boots).

Got to the storage unit.  I slipped and slid all around and was glad the car had 4-wheel drive to get through the drifts all around it.  Then the lock was frozen.  I found something resembling a tire jack and banged on it until it opened.  And then the fun began.  As I rooted around for all the linens, I found little holes in plastic bags of clothes and blankets.  Some linens were completely destroyed by the good half-inch of dirt and debris.  Additionally, there was rodent shit through the storage until.  On my f---ing bed.  I'm pretty mad about that.  I just started throwing things out onto the snow and then put all my yarn into garbage sacks so it would basically make it to the dumpster by my house so I could throw away my entire collection of yarn.  I'm not about to go through rodent shit yarn.

I fell on my face again and considered my options: (a) cry or (b) shout profanity.  I chose the latter and after the tirade was over (and let me tell you, it was a creative, satisfying string of the best words I know) I felt less like crying.

Then I went to the laundromat and spent nearly three hours there washing the salvageable in hot water with bleach and then drying it within an inch of its life.  It was really crowded but I felt like we were all getting along and were courteous.  But then something rotten happened.  A young girl - about 6th or 7th grade - opened my dryer by mistake.  It was about done anyway.  I told her no bigggie.  But her mother grabbed her by her arm hard and shouted obscenities at the girl in Spanish and I recognized them and at one point she hit her kid and called her a bitch. I sort of inserted myself, trying to talk to the mother, who didn't speech English and asking the girl if she was okay and if there was anything I could do.  Then I basically watched them because if I saw anything go down I was going to call the police.  It was really tense and stressful.  I was just glad to get out of there.  But you know, everyone else there acted like it was all okay and fine.  And it wasn't okay and fine!

I made it home after another stop and was so cold from my wet clothes.  I fell asleep in the bathtub, fell asleep watching Daniel Craig play 007 (I know, right!  Daniel Craig!) And the pain at this point.  Oh my hell.  Oh, and at some point we'll get into the stupid letter from the University of Utah Clinic.

And I should have done this one last thing but instead I'm blogging and listening to "Vampire Weekend" - a band iTunes suggested I like and I complied and turned out I actually liked.

Here's what I should be working on packing up (clothes).  Instead, sleep.

Picture updates

Thought I'd post picture of my new domicile and my new car.  Here you go:

This is my new place - one half of a duplex.  I love it.

And this is my car, a 1995 Nissan Pathfinder.  It will be great for transporting dogs for adventures.  It has four doors plus ample space in the back and it has four wheel drive.  I also got a really good deal on it!

Whew... and it's just getting started

My new year's resolutions for 2010 I distinctly remember saying I wanted to do two things: (1) use eye cream every night, and (2) move fewer times in 2010 than I did in 2009.  I will have accomplished the latter.  The former will be on my list, again.

A refresher.  In 2009 I moved three times.  Then in April of this year I moved back to Idaho.  That is actually four times in 12 months.  Now, at the very beginning of the new year, on January 1, 2011, I am moving again.  This time I am moving just a hop, skip, and a jump away from my parents, my brother, my gram, and that whole mess of family you've seen in pictures here.  Last week was about getting ready for Christmas.  This week is about getting ready to move.

You'd think I wouldn't have that much to do.  I've literally been living out of a suitcase... plus all the other crap I've managed to accumulate in my upstairs room.  And for the record, my mom has attempted to get me out of said suitcase but I find it a great place to dump clothes once they've been balled up and removed from the dryer.  :)

And setting up a household again, despite still have a 10x10 storage unit with things in it, is actually not as easy as it sounds.  Today my mom, gram, and I went to Twin Falls and had a major marathon shopping day.  I scored some great deals.  But at the last store, standing there with two grocery carts full of stuff I needed: dishes, coffee maker, kitchen towels, garbage cans... it felt completely overwhelming.  The sheer volume was overwhelming.  And I'm not even done yet.

I'm excited for this next phase in my life.  (Don't worry, mom, I will still be over every night even if it is just to play Jeopardy).  I'm also worried.  Whether or not I should, I consider the last attempt at living my regular, adult life (as in the years from 18 to 30???) a colosal failure and I'm scared to fail again.  I know I have this incredible safety net, for which I am eternally grateful.  But I just don't want to crash and burn.  I feel tentative and unsteady.  Let's see how I feel when I get the dishes put away and the storage unit dust cleared and the dogs washed.  Maybe I'll feel good.  And then maybe I'll post pictures!

Merry Christmas!

Since my sister came for a visit last week, it's seemed like Christmas for awhile now.  This past week my mom was off for the holiday break from school, which was good because she had about a million projects (check out her blog at http://lifeatthecasa.blogspot.com/) and for me Christmas has been coming since I ordered my new Mac and iPhone, purchased some new shoes and other things via the web, and bought a car last week (more on that to come,with pictures).

So yes, I finally did receive the federal money I had been waiting on and in case I hadn't updated this blog enough, I found a place (a duplex really nearby off the Paul/Rupert highway), bought a 95 Nissan Pathfinder to take my stinkhounds and I on lots of adventures, and while much of the other stuff was necessary, I have to admit the grey Ugg Boots were just because I wanted them.   I'm moving a week from today and my blessed family is helping me... again.  But this time I should be here awhile because I signed a gym contract here.

This was the best Christmas I've had in a long time actually.  We all agreed as a family that we wouldn't do gifts and if we did do gifts, they had to be homemade or gifts of our selves in some way.  For example, I got a wonderful calendar with pictures of my niece from my brother's family and a CD with tracks my brother recorded of him playing his sax and reading his favorite piece of poetry as well as some of his favorite jazz favorites.

I got to watch my mom and dad's gift early because I helped copy the DVDs for everyone.  My mom sent everyone a survey to fill out and then used a scrapbooking program to create a scrapbook using pictures from the past year and our answers to the survey to make a DVD of our family memories.  It made me cry because watching it and looking over the last year of my life, it didn't feel like such a waste.  Pretty amazing gift.  The last few weeks with my family really have been a gift.

Here are a few pictures from the day:

We ate dinner with our extended family at my aunt's house.

My brother, two sisters-in-law, and Dad all play at my aunt's house.

My niece likes the guitar her grandma & grandpa got her for Christmas 

(and that her grandpa made sure was properly tuned before they wrapped it).

My brothers and sisters-in-law hanging out.

Now who said money can't buy love?

This, ladies and gentlemen, is my new love - my macbook pro.  It has a few subtle enhancements to improve its functionality and I have to say, I love, love, love using it.  The keyboard feels like a dream.  The screen is sharper and clearer than most TVs.  Ever since my beloved old computer bit the dust last year (and Sony let me down by not making parts) I've wanted this computer.  Now we are together at last.

PS The computer is supposed to be the focus of the picture, not my weird picture and the hair frizz.  Just so you know. :)

The gang was all here!

Today was a glorious day of taking it easy.  It was just me, the TV, and the couch.  I did yogic breathing exercises after my morning inhaler dosage and breathed in the wonderful air from the humidifier.  My dad had reminded me that I could do meditative or yoga breathing to help and it was funny that I needed reminding since I use some exercises whenever I need peace or calm or just relaxation.  Funny we need to be reminded to breathe, eh?  Besides this, I caught up on Fringe and had a lovely nap.  I am already breathing easier.

Now to blog about the past weekend!

My sister came to visit for a week (rare, unexpected, a gift) and so all my siblings and their spouses and child came into town to visit as well.  For two solid days it was just our family (10 and counting) - hanging out and spending time together.  I was just so grateful for all the time together.  Playing with my niece was fun and aerobic as usual.  We went swimming, made homemade pizzas (I actually didn't help but rather only ate the results, to be honest), played The Farming Game, watched Dora The Explorer and The A-Team, had a full scale Thanksgiving-style dinner, took turns entertaining the aforementioned two and a half year old, and hung out/visited./talked.

Can I just say again how grateful I am.  It is this incredible gift when we all can get together.  I have a huge extended family and a pretty good sized immediate family that is going to grow (my SIL is pregnant and due in March and my sister is engaged to be married to a wonderful man).  But when all my siblings are all together again, under the same roof, there is just something really special to me about it.

Some pictures (of the vast amount I took) of this past weekend:

My SIL takes a break from cutting my mom's hair to hang out with my brother (her hubby).

My sister and SIL looks on as my brother sets up a new toy for my niece (a racing car track).

My mom (grandma) and my niece watch Dora.

My niece sings into her microphone... a rising star!  And yes, that's a Utes t-shirt.

My sister the artist helps her niece paint a lovely picture for grandma.  Even that kid's smock is cute!

My brother and his niece make chocolate chip cookies for dessert.  

She said to him, "Yeah!  You did it all my yourself!  Good job!"  Adorable.

One final thought.  My parents have to work so hard for us to do this.  They work all day and night to keep up with everyone and they put out so much time, energy, and money for our gatherings.  I was in so much pain from over-doing it all that I was of no help at all.  Thank you mom and dad for making this weekend happen.  I am so completely grateful.  This is my tribute - a song that makes me cry every single time I hear it.

I have a family here on earth. They are so good to me.

I want to share my life with them through all eternity.

Fam’lies can be together forever through Heav’nly Father’s plan.

I always want to be with my own family,

And the Lord has shown me how I can.

The Lord has shown me how I can.

(“Families Can Be Together Forever,” Children’s Songbook, 188).

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Bronchial-never-going-to-leave-me-alone-itis

How long ago was it that I blogged about finally going to the doc about a persistent cough and then finding out I had a bronchial infection?  It never quite went away and when I went in for my monthly prescription refill today, I brought up my new and continuing symptoms.  My mom bought me a cool air humidifier a few days ago and it is lovely, but my chest gets tighter and tighter and has gotten harder and harder to breathe.  I went swimming on Saturday (more about that in my next post which I hope to have the energy for tomorrow) and could hardly breathe - very unlike me in the pool.

The doc listened to my lungs and hooked me up to a little machine that made sure adequate oxygen was going in and out of my body.  It is adequate, just not optimal, which they said is probably why I am so tired.  I got a little inhaler that has helped with the tightness and a "z pack" of antibiotics which is supposed to make this go away.

The fantastic nurse there is also going to call the University of Utah clinic for me and try to get them to get me an appointment, since I keep leaving messages to no avail. I love my doc's office and the staff there.

So cross your fingers, would you?

PS Tomorrow I hope to report on all the amazing, marvelous, incredible, awesome family fun of the past weekend.  Hopefully going to bed at eight and sleeping for 12 hours will help!

Family! Family! Family!

This past weekend I was able to go to Utah to spend time with my brother's family, which includes my pregnant SIL and my wonderful 2 1/2 year old niece.  I had a great time!  My brother did nothing but cook the richest most decadent food imaginable. I got to visit a bit with my SIL and I spent time playing with my niece - who had changed and grown so much since the last time I'd seen her.  For example, the last time I spent time with her, she did a lot of repeating what you said and repeating questions and statements.  Now she is practically outspoken and so much more talkative.  She is a character - a card - and I love her.

On the way home we decided to take a bit of a detour and take my grandpa out to lunch.  He isn't doing very well; he's having a hard time getting around.  But the Asian buffet was delish and I ate too much and loved it.

This past weekend was our family's celebration of Thanksgiving and I am so grateful.  I'm grateful for my wonderful family: for my parents who included me in the drive down to Utah, for my brother's family and their lovely hospitality, and for the pain killers that made it even possible to go.  I may have slept a lot, but I was able to go and that mattered so, so much to me.

Oh, and PS: My sister is flying into Boise tomorrow!  How grateful am I?

PPS If I could just get rid of this vile respiratory thing I'd be the happiest woman for miles and miles!

The infernal cough is back!

It started on Wednesday when I was swimming.  I coughed the whole time, in between laps.  I almost called the whole thing off, but you know me.  I'm stubborn.  Thursday I slept and coughed all day.  Today I slept and coughed all day until I got a wicked migraine at about five and then tried not to cough because it hurt so bad when I coughed I thought I'd pass out.  I wanted to see my doctor but his office was closed until Monday.

Really?!?!

This is back already?

Really?!?!

Bullocks.

Recovery

Here is our Christmas tree.  My mom indulged me and we went and picked out a noble fir at Fred Meyer the day before Thanksgiving.  We are started fresh with a new theme, new ornaments, etc.  You know what happened to mine (I donated them except the star and the one from my gram) and my mom's had fallen into disrepair.

It was hard to get a good picture and this was the best I've got.  What you can't really see is that what we are starting with are some bulb ornaments and some ornaments we've made out of silk poinsettia flowers.  Now for the next three weeks we are going to be on a quest to find perfect ornament that match the gem color scheme (red, green, gold, white, and purple).

I also bought some ornaments for my tree - my future Christmas tree.  The one that will be all mine.  Pink and sage.  Lovely.

I think it was last Friday morning when I woke up ready to take on the world.  Since then I feel like I have.  Christmas cards are made.  I've purchased everything for various gifting plans.  Monday I even started swimming again.  I thought since I'd been out nearly a month, I'd have to start back into it slowly but instead I swam longer than ever; I am at 1/2 mile!

So it would appear I am over my miscellaneous infections (knock on wood, please).  And it would also appear I'm moving on with my life, the parts that still make me a little melancholy when I think about them.  I miss some of my old tree ornaments because they were so varied and carefully cultivated.  But I'm sure there will be a time when I don't think, "this is my first year without my ornaments" just as I'm sure there will be a time when I won't think, "this is the first year I'm divorced from my husband... okay, second year apart from him".

What can I say, recovery is a journey.

Thanksgiving

Today my family had a little bit of an unconventional Thanksgiving.  Our Plan A didn't work out, so we moved to a last minute Plan B.  The oyster stew was divine and I hadn't had it in years - just a hint.

As I was getting ready for bed tonight I realized the ice that had formed on the inside of the window by my bed (not a little, but a lot of ice) had melted and soaked through most of my bedding.  I was instantly in despair because everyone had gone to bed and I had to make do with what I could find for bedding and clean up this sopping window mess in the dark.  Then I remembered to count my blessings, particularly apropos the holiday, neh?

I looked up my Free Will Astrology horoscope and was floored by it.  The message really seemed to fit here.  It made me almost as teary as watching It's a Wonderful Life today.  Remember there is a link on the right side of my blog if you want to check your Free Will Astrology!

"We cannot have any unmixed emotions," said poet William Butler Yeats. "There is always something in our enemy that we like, and something in our sweetheart that we dislike." I hope that's OK with you, Taurus. In fact I hope you regard that as a peculiar blessing -- as one of the half-maddening, half-inspiring perks of life on earth. The fact is, as I see it, that you are in the thick of the Season of Mixed Emotions. The more graciously you accept that -- the more you invite it to hone your soul's intelligence -- the better able you'll be to capitalize on the rich and fertile contradictions that are headed your way. 

I invite you to keep a running list of all the ways life delights you and helps you and energizes you. Describe everyday miracles you take for granted . . . the uncanny powers you possess . . . the small joys that occur so routinely you forget how much they mean to you . . . the steady flow of benefits bestowed on you by people you know and don't know. What works for you? What makes you feel at home in the world?

Snow dogs

What unbelievable weather.  It's nine degrees here, but at least the wind isn't blowing so hard.  There haven't been ground blizzards today... knock on wood.  My mom's school district cancelled school for the week because of the snow and the wind causing serious drifting.  The roads around our country home have been so crazy yesterday my dad had to dig his pick up out twice on his way to work (he insisted upon going).

But my dogs seem to be doing fine.  Libby does her Libby thing - walking the perimeter and doing her Libby inspection.  But Sully has been diving head first into the two to three feet high drifts, doing barrel rolls, and making Sully snow angels.  She just rolls around in it.  It's hilarious.  She runs around and has such a great time.  So here are some pictures.

Petri dish teaming with bacteria

That's right.  You read it here.  My body is a petri dish just teaming with bacterial infection.  For the last month or more I've complained about the switch from Norco to Percoset and all that noise.  A few weeks ago the coughing started.  Two weeks ago I started antibiotics for a bronchial infection.

Last Thursday my mom took me to the ER because I was having this horrible stabbing pain in my right side. The ER staff started three tests simultaneously - blood, urine, and contrast dye CT to look at my organs (specifically appendix) because I had to drink this awful red dye solution that would take an hour.  That's the picture above  - me about to polish of the end of what seemed like half a gallon of the vile stuff.

Here's where it got fun.  Yes, there was the pain, but it was also eventful and entertaining.  After the initial blood draw and urine samples were taken, they sent in an EMT (who was just helping out because they were busy) to place an IV for the intravenous contrast dye for the CT.  They wanted a vein close to my heart and but good places are mostly in my hands and forearms because I've had a lot of blood draws and IVs and have a lot of scar tissue over those sites.

This poor woman was apologizing because she kept sticking me and losing veins and trying the other arm and she was a wreck.  I tried to put her at ease by telling her about how I used to go in about every other week to get my pump filled and that "professional" was so incompetent I'd walk out with at least half a dozen injections in my stomach "so this was nothing".  She final poked through some scar tissue and let me tell you, that sucker was a gusher.  It went everywhere.  She was not prepared.  The radiology tech who came in to get me for the CT soon after, saw the blood bath after the attempts to clean it up and commented about how the EMT must have gotten a good one.

I had my CT, which I think are fun because the machines are interesting and not claustrophobic.  The contrast dye they inject you with makes you feel like you peed your pants.  Since it was 9PM in Burley, Idaho, they sent the images to Salt Lake where a radiologist reviewed them and sent a report back to my ER doc.  Then all the tests were in.

And I had a bladder infection.  Did I have any symptoms of a bladder infection (beyond elevated white blood cell count/fever)?  No.  But did all my organs from my kidneys to my ovaries look just lovely?  Yes.  That's good to know.  I mean, you always go around assuming but to know definitively is kind of nice.

They put me on another antibiotic which I was to take with my previously prescribed antibiotics.  I asked the doctor basically, what the hell man?  I've never gotten one of these and there's no real reason for me to get one now.  Also, I have no symptoms of a bladder infection.  I think I got the medical equivalent of a shrug.

It's starting to feel less and less like I have shards of glass in my lower abdomen and although I'm still coughing a bit, my chest isn't feeling as heavy.  But Friday night I DVR-ed the Boise State game and went to bed at eight.  That says something. :)

Here's what WebMD says:

http://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/urinary-tract-infections-in-teens-and-adults-topic-overview

A note on the morose

I am generally depressed about specific circumstances in my life, yes.  That's readily apparent from reading this blog.  But it should also be apparent that there is more to my life than being depressed about things.  But lately... whoa.

And I think I've got it.

Four years ago, two days before Thanksgiving, was the last day I worked.  The last day I worked a job I really liked, a job with potential, a job I thought I believed would soon lead to a raise.  It was supposed to be temporary.  It never was.  My brain remembers and I am inadvertently and now obviously, sad.  I've always taken meaning from work - like the whole worth of my self is wrapped up in it.  A remembrance that I haven't worked a day in four years is doing a number on me.

A couple of weeks ago I decided to outright sabotage my efforts as part of our "Biggest Loser" competition because I felt like every time I had been at a healthy weight, I had been victimized in some way by some creep.  Creeps aren't around when you are fat.  Then we were watching "The Biggest Loser" and something the trainer Jillian said resonated with me (which is weird because I've always been a bit skeptical of her methods):

"Do you want to be a victim or a victor?"

I decided to stop with the self sabotage in the household contest arena because I'm going to be a victor - even if that means I have to carry a knife or learn Kung Fu to feel comfortable enough to do it.  Maybe this also applies here?  Am I going to mope about being a victim of circumstance, blaming myself, and hurting myself with my horrible self-talk?  Or will I be a victor in putting one foot in front of the other and learning to call it progress?

Regardless of anniversaries and days worked, I'm here now, I'll be here next week, and I'll be here the week after.  Victim or victor?

Kitties, germs, and antibiotics

This bronchial infection crap is pissing me off.  I haven't been able to swim in forever, the coughing is ongoing, I'm more exhausted that usual, and it seems to have settled right in.  Bitch.

Perhaps this is why I have so identified with White Cat.  But let me back up and begin for you The Saga of the Cats.

When I arrived at the homestead in April there were two farm cats - Dad's cat (black and white) and the other grey-ish one.  The latter gave birth two four kittens, made off with two of them, orphaned the other two, and was never seen again.  My mom and brother heroically attempted to save the two infant kittens and one survived (see picture above).  We call her Grey Cat.  When she was weaned and ready to go outside, Dad's cat had given birth to a litter of four kittens just a few weeks younger than Grey Cat.  Amazingly and miraculously, Grey Cat was welcomed into the family and given all the love and attention all the others were given.  Then we lost one black and white cat suddenly and mysteriously to some unknown death and another black and white cat decided to go live with the neighbors.

This left us with three young cats: White Cat, Grey Cat, Black Cat.  My brother's dog constantly tries to eat them, but my dogs love them and Grey Cat is known to hang out in their hours at all hours.  But White Cat got really sick and last Friday my mom and I took her on an emergency run to the vet.  With a wild farm cat on my lap for an hour or so, we learned she had an upper respiratory infection and ear mites.  But she'll be okay.  And we really need our cats to be okay this winter to kill the mice and voles that come in from the fields.

Everyday I've been giving White Cat dosages of the same antibiotic I'm taking for my bronchial issue (only hers smells like orange Popsicles and mine smells like poo).  I give all the cats ear medicine and let me tell you, they freaking hate it.  My hands and arms are covered in scratches and bites.  But we're starting to be really good friends as I hold them, cuddle them, whisper soothing things to them, helping them get better.  Oh, and did I mention I'm freaking allergic to cats?

Taking care of my dogs has long sustained me when I've felt like my life has no meaning, purpose, or use.  But  trying save kittens has admittedly helped.  I just sitting here with tears welling in my eyes wondering if it's enough.  I once had such high standards and goals, such high hopes and dreams for my life.  An existence where I manage to give a cat her antibiotics and then take a bath hardly seems worth the time it took for my gestation.

PS Since it's difficult to round the cats up these days since I'm the mean medicine lady, I couldn't get a more recent kitty picture, but the one above is from when Grey Cat was just a couple of weeks old.

Pretty low on the "give-a-s@#$-o-meter" these days, hurray?

Last week my GP diagnosed me with a a bronchial infection and after being on antibiotics for a few days now, it's starting to feel less like there's a sumo wrestler standing on my chest.

But the weird this was - the only symptom I had was a cough, this annoying, hacking cough that was actually making my back pain worse so I brought it to his attention when I had an appointment to refill my pain medication.  The Percocet covered all the other symptoms.  I really thought it was just this annoying cough.  He said to come back if the antibiotics didn't help because although it didn't sound like pneumonia, it could become an issue.

It does that for pretty much every part of my life. I was wondering the other day why my anti-depressant didn't seem to be working very well anymore.  I mean, I don't seem to care about anything anymore.  Then I got it.  It's the Percocet.  It works by making my brain not care about the pain.  It also happens to make my brain not care about anything else.  These days what I care about is sleeping, making sure I poo (constipation is very bad when you have low back pain), and taking care of the animals, especially my doggies and the sick kitty.

Writing?  Who cares?  Losing weight?  Hardly registers.  Participating in my family?  Minimal effort.  Keeping up on TV?  Not even making an effort (now you know that's serious).

Maybe this is what I need - to finally let go.  Or maybe I'm just giving up and giving in.  All I can say is that right now, I'm going to sleep.  If I wake up from one of my epic naps and you are all sitting around the living room in folding chairs, I'll know you're ready to host an intervention.  And I will try very had to care, deep down, about you caring! :)

Pain is boring

Here's what I've noticed - not just lately.  Pain is boring.  It tends to spread boring and dull throughout your life.  Now, you can do your very best to choose not to be affected by it, but inevitably it will hit you.  You will end up smacked out on pain killers fighting to stay awake with everything else besides sleep seeming ridiculously uninteresting to you, or you'll be in horrible pain and have to deal with it in ways that cut you out of life to the point where even lying in bed reading a magazine is too much and once again, there you are, staring into space.

I write about this like it's some kind of immutable law.  And right now it feels like it is.  But I've been a little sick lately and the side effects of the pills are getting to me.  But I have lists of things I'd really like to do.  And even when smacked out staring into space, I'm still dreaming of doing them.  I think that's a good sign, right?  And being a drama queen means the boring hasn't completely taken over - so another good sign, right?

1st Annual Family Shootout (also happens to be my 300th post)

Yesterday was our family's first shootout.  It was held here out at our house and included shooting clays, long bows, and paint ball.  My brother and dad created the course and my mom, gram, and I worked on the food, prizes, and scorecards for the event.  My extended family came and divided up into teams and went through the course.  We lit a fire in the fire pit so people could roast hot dogs for chili dogs.  On top of that my mom, gram, and I made pumpkin-chocolate chip cookies, caramel apples, and mulled apple cider.

It rained off and on up until the event started and then we had the most beautiful weather.  Family arrived, got their mugs of coffee and cider and headed out.  I had a great time.  I've posted some pictures from our shootout.

To be able to help out with everything, I took a half dosage of my pain killer all day.  It was great at first because I had clarity and felt awake and was able to not only help, but do so without being dizzy or nauseas or headachy.  But by the end of the day I was miserable.  I wasn't able to go to the haunted maze with everyone else and I was sad.  But then I watched a great upset game of number one ranked Oklahoma by number 11 ranked Missouri and felt better -a game that will only benefit my alma mater.

Today I'm suffering for it, like I always do.  For some reason I really hoped I'd be immune this time.  But at least it was worth it.  It was such a good time - it was totally worth it.  And having candy apples left over doesn't hurt either!

  

And it's morning

Mornings I dread.  Just a little bit.  I dread them because when I wake up I have not had any pain medication in something like 12 hours (having taken my last dose around 6 or 7) and I am in a lot of pain.  Also, I've typically been waking up periodically for the past few hours due to pain.

But after the first few moments of sleepiness wear off, I'm alert, awake, focused.  I'm more alert and awake and focused than I will be all day.  It's really wonderful to have my brain back, just for that half an hour or so.  But then the withdrawals and the pain gets to me and the realization that I've got to venture out into the cold and take care of the dogs and cats gets to me and the thought of playing Frisbee gets to me and I eat something and down the hatch it goes.

This morning I am a little more miserable than usual.  Most mornings I can push through, go about a little routine, get my swimming done, and take a nap in the afternoon.  But not today.

This is my hope: get an appointment at the University of Utah clinic and have them prescribe me Fentanyl patches.  I hope they are still used in some cases.  Although the patches tore up my skin, they delivered continual medication and had limited side effects for me.  Then I'd like them to remove my stupid pain pump, remove the excessive scar tissue and maybe I'll stop having so many migraines.  Then I'll try some new therapies.  These are my hopes.  I cling to them, even as I lie down so I don't puke up this pain pill.

Medication mayhem

A couple of weeks ago I had an appointment with my GP and decided that since the Norco wasn't really helping anymore, but causing nasty side effects, I'd trade up to a new medication.  I was extremely wary.  First of all, it's Percocet, a drug infamous for being a junkie's drug.  Second, it's a kind of oxycodone and I really hate those medicines.  But still, I hadn't tried Percocet yet, I had started being able to do more and more in life, and I wanted to continue that trend.

The first day was rough.  The next day was fine.  After that I went into withdrawals because I'm taking less of the new medication than I was of the old.  About a week later when that mellowed out I realized two things (1) this is remarkably good pain control, and (2) I feel like shit all the time.

I am wiped out, completely exhausted.  I am nauseas and dizzy.  My bowels are a mess.  I am freezing all the time and I can feel when my breathing gets really shallow.  I lack any concentration at all.  And there is this odd, drugged feeling that is accompanied by this aching hollowness that's hard to describe.  My body and my limbs feel as if they weigh a million pounds.  I still swim and I really do try to help out around the house.  But these days I feel empty.  I've got nothing.

But this not being in pain is just so, so nice.  I'm not sure if I can go back to being in pain to trade back for a better (?) quality of life.  All I know is that I am wrecked and a mess but I love not being in so much pain all the time.

Family and pumpkin cheesecake

Tonight my mom and I went over to my aunt's house to eat cheesecake our cousin made.  Aunts and cousins, all female, were there. It turns out she made two kinds of muffins (one of them was this spiced pumpkin with a layer of cream cheese kind that was incredible), pumpkin cheesecake, and caramel pecan sauce to go over the cheesecake.  Amazing.

You'd think that would be a good enough reason to like spending time with my family - the desserts.  But it's actually more than that.  The months I've spent living here have been filled with so many different family gatherings, some large and some small.  I've loved just hanging out with my immediate family everyday but  also Saturday morning coffee at Gram's and impromptu get-togethers and this summer there was a wedding and there have been barbecues and in a couple of weeks we are having a shoot out.

And yes, there is some great food planned for the shoot out in a couple of weeks.  But again, that's just one things I love about my family.

PS The picture above is of some of my family watching the soccer game during the 4th of July Barbecue.

Swimmingly (Part Deaux)

This started out as me telling my mom about my new little treat I get when I'm done swimming.  This week I've adjusted my schedule a bit and now when I am just getting out of the pool there a man getting in, a very serious swimmer type, with really lovely and incredible abs.  Seriously, I have no idea what this man looks like.  Only his abs.

Then the thought went to... wow, I'd really like abs like that (only on a girl).  Do you think you can get those from swimming?  My mom said when she swam she was always sore in places that one would think would eventually give you those kind of abs.  And I mean, look at Michael Phelps.  (Oh, and I was going to put a picture of him so you'd know what I mean, but I was too embarrassed, so you'll have to just use your imagination.)

Then I said, you know, I haven't been sore.  I mean, sometimes when I wake up I'm a little sore, but it goes away pretty quickly.  My mom kept talking about being sore from swimming.  After awhile it dawned on me.  I take a lot of pain killers - a decent dose every four hours.  Of course I'm not sore!  We had a chuckle over this and she said I get to exercise with impunity!

I am and it's great!

As of yesterday I am back on all but one of my medications.  It is an incredible blessing, a gift.  Haven't heard anything from the University of Utah clinic.  However, I can't help but feel like I am on the right track.

Swimmingly

Two weeks ago I signed up for a membership at what used to be the "Racquetball Club" and what is now called "Impact Athletic".  I can't believe what it costs for a membership.  But it's the only game in town since it's the only facility with an indoor pool open year round.

But I think it's worth it.  Swimming makes me feel so good - tired, but good.  My muscles don't get achy and tight.  I sleep like the dead.  It's amazing what swimming does for me.  And I've noticed you improve so quickly!  When I started out I could barely swim laps for 20 minutes, and that's with plenty of gasping for air at the edge of the pool between laps.  Now I go for about 35 minutes and swim steadily the whole time.  When I am done I feel exhausted and the next day I am always sore if I push myself, but I just can't express how wonderful it feels.

This is an amazing thing I get to do!  Sometimes I forget I am doing things toward my ultimate goal of getting better.  When I remember (like now), it makes me smile.

"And I am flawed/ But I am cleaning up so well"

There is a strong chance I accidentally took my pain medication twice.  I was sure I hadn't taken it and so I took it and now my brain feels foggier than usual and I feel like I'm about a million degrees in temperature.  Very strange sensation.  Unfortunately, this isn't the first time this has happened but I do know that I'm really okay.  It just makes me a little more... thoughtful or at least thinking.

Today I talked to my sister on the phone for over an hour and it was so wonderful.  She has the ability to say things to me that sometimes no one else has or that someone else has but in a way that I actually listen. And I did listen.  Here's what I think is an important thing she pointed out:

I've been worried that I'm not doing anything with my life, it and I have very little value, I will never get over all my hang ups about not wanting this to be my life when I was satisfied with my old life, I don't know who I am anymore... and on and on it goes.  But she pointed out that it's been a tough road for awhile and I do need to just back off and give myself some time.  Then someday soon I will get my stride back.

In the last two weeks I signed up for the only gym with a pool here (that's right, Impact Athletic) and have developed a daily routine that includes using my Gram's house and it's lovely quietude and even lovelier recliner to write and then going to the club to swim.  The swimming has been going so well.  The cool thing about swimming is that when you are getting back into it, you are able to progress pretty rapidly.  And it has really helped with the aching hamstrings and the clenching and spasming of my muscles.  The writing has been difficult and forced since it feels so fragile in my mind.

When I look back to six months ago, the first full day I was here in April, and just how fragmented and wrecked I felt, and how much stronger and better I feel now, I can recognize progress.  But sometimes you just can't see the forest for the trees.

PS Yes, another picture of the drain ditch.  I just spend a lot of time there with my dogs and then there is the whole metaphor of a path...

Supportive (and pretty)

Earlier this summer my aunts went to a lingerie (and more!) store in Twin Falls.  When they came back they sang its praises and still giggled over what I'll call the non-every day lingerie (and more!).  So Friday my mom and I went to Karnation in Twin Falls for a bra fitting.

Sigh.  It is so nice to be so well supported!  When you have a chest the size of mine, it takes a lot of effort on the part of your shoulders to maintain decent posture.  The new bras I bought have done so much for me in relieving that upper back ache.

It is an absolute wonder what good foundation garments can do for you.  I feel you can see more than just an amorphous chest/belly/hips/bum blob and there is at least the designation of two proper breasts.  I'm still getting used to the under wire and all the support entails, but let me tell you - I feel better and it completely rocks.

Doctor update

I have a lot to say.  It's just that right now I have done a lot in the past few days and the pain is starting to catch up to me.  But I wanted to add a quick update.  I talked to my GP on Friday and he said his office finally received my chart from my old doc and they got everything sent to the University of Utah neurosciences clinic on Sep. 21.  Ah, the speed of medicine.  I am nervous.  I hope they accept me as a patient!

My home, sweet home

I know I've used this picture before and I really ought to put in a new one that updates the house and yard and all the hard work my mom put into the yard this summer.  For example, there are hydrangeas now!

But I needed the picture because this post has a specific point to make.

There is something I keep forgetting.  My goal: get better, feel better.  It dawned on me when I was soaking in the bathtub that moving to a new place now would hinder progress of that goal.  Sure, I could use my paycheck and get moved to my own place, but I don't have money for a car yet.  I'd be sort of stuck in that place with less help than I'm receiving now.

This week I am starting my gym membership so I can swim regularly.  I think it will really help my poor, aching hamstrings that have just been tormenting me of late.  But if I move, I can't do that because I wouldn't have a car and I couldn't afford a new gym membership AND a security deposit on a place.  And then what of doctor appointments and medications and signing up for a prescription plan?  Doubtful, with such tight finances.

So I will stay put a little while longer.

What seems to be driving my need to hurry up and move is my concern for my dogs.  As outside dogs they've been experiencing a different life these past six months.  I think they are generally happy, taking walks and jumping in the drain ditch and exploring the beet field and playing Frisbee.  But I am worried about them when it gets colder.

Then it occurred to me.  I can improve their home.  I can buy a new dog run, add a more cozy house with waterproof pillows that might stay cleaner than their current pillows.  And when it gets a bit colder, I can buy heated dog beds.  I can make them nice and comfy.

It plays on my anxiety that I keep trying to put some twisted reality of my dogs' interest ahead of my own.  I need to get on top of that.  Well, that and so many other issues.  I have a counseling appointment the first week of October.  I think I've found a counselor who will meet my needs.  I had a conversation with her about her credentials, philosophy, and approach to her practice.  It's looking good.  And I wouldn't be able to afford her if I move out this month.

Nor would I be able to afford a new swimsuit that I desperately need or some new cool weather clothes that I need since losing a bunch of weight this summer.  I'm not going to throw out numbers, but let's just say that all my clothes sort of hang on me and I want to look better so I can feel better.

So I'm going to stick around a bit longer.  And try to keep an eye on my number one goal - honor it and remember it.

Metaphorical dreaming

Last night I went to bed early because of a migraine.  At one point I got up to go to the bathroom and take my dogs out for "last call".  When I was back in bed I hurt so much everywhere I just cried and then this is what I dreamed:

I had a sink and around it kept filling with these filthy, sludgy, dirty pots and pans full of pain.  The contents were different nasty colors (imagine the colors of things that come out of different places on your body when you are sick).  No matter what I did the pots and pans of pain just continued to pile up and pile up.  Eventually I just gave up on trying to keep up with it.

That was very artistic and such of my brain to dream like that and I'm quite proud of it for it.  However, I'd prefer to never see all those pots and pans again.  They were gross and in my dream I felt each one.  They were each a different kind of pain, unique and separate.  And they wouldn't go away.

Poopies

This post is about how rotten I feel.  Seriously, I feel like poop.  Right now I am at that point where earlier today I got in pain and hours and hours since I haven't been able to get out of pain and I can't just keep popping more pills at this point.  And I hurt everywhere and my head hurts and has that drugged feeling and I am nauseous and I am perpetually tired and...

I'm wondering why I got back on pain pills.  I knew that Norco would only help for a little while before I'd start having to trade up to harder and harder substances.  My next step would be the -contin family, I suppose.  Maybe I could try Darviset or Demerol... I hate them all.  But I knew it would be this way.  I guess I just have to remember what it was like before.  It must have been bad if I wanted to do this, right?

I better call my doctor, get some sleep, try again tomorrow.  I don't know...

One thing: next week after I get my first direct deposit social security check, I'm going to get a gym membership so I can swim and my mom is going to let me borrow the car during the day so I can go do that! That should at least help with the muscle pain.

Deep breaths.  Good things on the horizon.  :)

Usefulness

Two quick updates: haven't made any progress on finding my "home on the range" and haven't heard from the University of Utah clinic.

But today's subject is of a different course.  In the last few days I've been able to do something useful with my life.  This past weekend I went with my parents to take furniture to my brother and SIL's new apartment in Pocatello.  I did absolutely nothing but hang out, but I felt useful.  :)

Yesterday I got the chance to act as an editor for another brother on a project he is working on.  Tonight I got to help my mom find screenshots for her PowerPoint for her lesson in her classroom tomorrow.

I also put up some green beans today - the blanch and freeze kind, not the canned kind.  Tomorrow, I might to laundry.

Everyone else who reads this blog does basically all of these things and more and in the same day.  But I think if I keep off my own back about it, accept the "day at a time" philosophy, and get to do even one useful thing each day, my self-concept improves.

So do you have something I can do to help?  Can I do it (as in physically)?  I'd love to help.

My home on the range

Yesterday I put an ad on craigslist under "Housing Wanted". I figured it couldn't hurt to ask and I'd read in some book about a woman writing down everything she wanted on a slip of paper and letting it fly away into the wind and then getting those things she wanted, eventually.  I suppose craigslist is my virtual slip of paper in the wind.

After reading my last entry, my mom offered me some good advice - don't let my inherited "Cache Valley hurry up and work hard so we can work hard some more" mindset get to me.  Sound.

I have this remarkable opportunity, this blessing that came bigger than I ever even hoped, and I need to not begrudge myself this.  And I also have to remember that this comes with a price.  I've been really struggling with pain control despite the pain medication and I feel sick all the time and all I want to eat is ice cream, yogurt, smoothies, and milkshakes.  You know, high fat and high sugar.

I'm looking for my home on the range these days, remaining grateful, attempting to convince myself that it's okay to do what I have planned (write and heal, in a nutshell), and am remembering why it is that I get this gift in the first place.  Chronic pain sucks, that's why. :)

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away...

Here's the thing.  I don't want to move.  I don't want to go anywhere.  The air smells good and the water tastes good.  There's family.  And you know, there is security.

My brilliant therapist once told me that security is knowing what to expect.  I haven't had that in a really, really long time.  I've had a taste of it and I'd like to keep it.

A friend reminded me of something I'd told her over a decade ago, maybe in junior high...  I said that what I wanted when I grew up was to live by myself and maybe some dogs, in the middle of nowhere, and just write.

So why does this feel so much like I have to justify my decision to not move to Pocatello, Boise, or Salt Lake?  Maybe I can get another therapist soon.  I'm a big fan of that.

Today I had an appointment with my GP, Dr. B.  He is working on a referral for me to the University of Utah Clinical Neurosciences Center.  I would really love to become a patient there.  They have over ten doctors and five of them are neurosurgeons.  They also work on rather cutting edge treatments.  I watched a YouTube video of a doctor talking about chronic pain.  He said the move is from opiate treatments to neuromodulation - it looks like the spinal cord stimulation kind of treatments.  I'm excited about this.

So it is that bad that all I want in life is to get a little place to rent to share with my stink hounds?  To just sit around a write?  To focus on getting better?  Maybe even psychologically better?

I feel like I'm supposed to be doing more.  You know, more... ambitious, great things.  The over-achiever in me is balking at this idea.  I'm scared.  Scared that I'm not doing enough, being enough, trying enough.

And once again and forever, I am resentful that I have to carve this life out on my own again.  I had a life.  I miss that life all the time.  I know I need to move on, but every single time I walk and get a stabbing pain down my leg or get up from sitting and feel every vertebrae bitching about it, I feel this wash of anger and sadness and longing.

No matter what I do, no matter what I try, I am not getting the past back.  So why do I feel so paralyzed about the future?

Once upon a time, I knew who I was and what I wanted and where I was going.  Or maybe I just thought I did.  Now I am in a land far, far away from there.

Psychology at work

Tonight the self-indulgent rant is not about pain or toddlers or pain in the bum toddlers (who I love and adore with all my heart), but about something I just figured out.  Today.

So my therapist once told me our brains remember and process and recall anniversaries of important and momentous events in our lives even if we have little conscious understanding of it.  We simply engage in behaviors that manifest the memory until we either figure it out and openly process and deal, or our brains give up on us and wait until the next one to make its point.

Lately, I've been mopey, listening to sappy music (again) and getting all choked up over silly things.  For instance, today I was watching an episode of "Friends" (my SIL is way into that show and has it on DVD) where Joey reads the book I'll Love you Forever as a gift to Ross and Rachel's one year old daughter on her birthday.  I cried.

And every time I've walked by what the picture above shows, I feel funny, weird.  I finally got it.  My brother's slippers were the same kind my husband (ex-husband) once wore. They got all ratty from wearing them everywhere, but they were a part of mornings and weekends and random, unimportant occasions.

You see, it has been a year since he and I separated.  It's been a year since some of the hardest weeks of my life - trying to move our possessions, including all the stuff he'd left behind in a complete psychotic mess, trying to get by when my limited means of financial support went with him, when I had to borrow money from my grandma and search through boxes to find dimes to buy ramen noodles to feed myself.  Or how I couldn't pay for electricity and finally called my mom crying because I just couldn't make it one more day without power, having to light tea light candles all over my apartment at night just so I could use the toilet without falling in!  And missing him and hating him so, so very much.  But my dogs were there the whole time and they loved me and I loved them and that made it okay to feel everything.

So yeah.  That's been about a year ago and I guess somewhere my brain started processing that "clustercuss" (to quote a recent Wes Anderson film).

So I'll accept the need for sappy pap that's kind of embarrassing.  Like the song I've linked below.  It's one of those annoying compilation vids from YouTube.  But here it is, Maroon 5's "Woman".

Tengo una buena vida

The title of this post is a little influenced by "Dora the Explorer" this morning.  We are happy to be learning colors in English and Spanish!

I've come to the conclusion that my lifestyle is freaking awesome.  Yes, it is typically dictated by pain, but consider this:

-I get up when I want, usually only because I need to take care of my dogs, who are both infinitely easier than a toddler.
-When I am hungry I eat and I rarely worry about feeding anyone else.
-If I am sleepy, I take a nap.
-I can stay up as late as I want because, let's be honest folks, I don't have shit to do.
-I do whatever I want most of the time.
-When inspiration strikes, I can just sit down and write.  I don't have to be dictated by time.  I don't have to have a designated writing period and know I've missed out if when it's over, I've got nothing.  I have a friend who has to write when her kids nap and that just seems so impossible!

And there are myriad other blessings.  Since the judge decided my case in my favor, I don't have to worry about finding some job I can do everyday throughout the pain that still pays me enough to live.  I have access to healthcare now and can go to the doctor.  I am able to get pain medication.  You see why I am "tengo una buena vida"!

PS Yesterday my brother took me on a tour of desirable neighborhoods in SLC (I need to live east of 70o and south of 2100).  I have settled on the sugarhouse area - it is just so fantastic!  More on that another time.  Here is the part that was also really, really cool - we drove by the University hospital and medical complexes.  Huge buildings with tons of specialties!  Oh, yeah, I'll get help here!

Binkies, et al

Can I just say for the millionth time, holy crap!  This kid is going to kill us all.  How do you parents manage this? Today my little niece had a hard day, which means her mommy had a hard day, too, just in dealing her daughter. And I was going nuts.  But then there were these wonderful, incredible moments of loving and sweetness.  She and I played on my bed (air mattress extraordinaire, seriously this thing rules).  Our game was take a bath and go to bed.  She pretended to wash her hair and then she jumped into my covers to go to sleep.  We'd lay there pretending to snore.  There was tickling and playing with the blankets and pillows.  It was very sweet.

Then somehow, all the binkies disappeared.  All of them.  Her mommy and daddy had a helluva time getting her to bed.  I cleaned up and then went to the pool.  Ah, the pool.  That was incredible. I did some of my pool physical therapy that I remembered and swam laps.  I kept telling myself, "okay, only one more" and then going and again and again.  Or as my niece would say, "aden, aden".

I couldn't exactly take a picture of me swimming, so instead here is a picture of my fun swimming gadget, my Otterbox, and my goggles.

PS

Have I ever been so tired?  Maybe, after moving... or that last move and driving from Oregon to Idaho.  Maybe then.  I had no idea.  Really, none.

I was going to take and post a picture of the living room after the little cyclone had hit it but figured my SIL wouldn't really appreciate it.  It's astounding how quickly they dump out toy boxes, make messes, and move on.  And their emotions.  They go from 0 to 10 in a second.  At one point I told her no and made her cry and I thought she'd hate me from then on out.  A few minutes later she was using me as a slide.  

The funny thing is, I talk to her like an adult or like my dogs (i.e. good girl, way to go, good job).  I'll say, "Don't freak out.  Just tell me what you want," when she begins a fit.  Then she just looks at me and tells me.  Then I say, "Okay.  Now see how easy that was?" 

The last thing: I am so, so very glad I have pain killers.  This would otherwise be impossible.  I'm in enough pain with them.  

And one more time, for the record, wow.

Day 1

I am here, in Utah, staying with my brother's family.  As you know, I was worried about what or how I could help.  A good friend told me that when she is so sick and miserable and tired being pregnant, she would wish just for another conscious adult, and that even making Mac'n Cheese for dinner would be great.  I can be conscious. I can make Mac'n Cheese.

It was really fun giving my niece her bath; she is so cute.  This morning we played on the playground equipment around her building.  I'm hoping to take her to the pool soon.

But last night, after the little one was in bed, I got to go out to the pool.  I did some of the walking exercises I remembered from physical therapy and I did a little swimming.  The pool was full of junk blown into it from the storm, but I didn't even care.  It was glorious.  I'm going to do it again and again.