It's been a very interesting week. Joe says I've been a living episode of "House", but he also thinks I have leprosy so he might not be the best judge of the situation. Last Tuesday afternoon I went my PCP for what I thought was a mild UTI. I started antibiotics that evening, but woke up at about 2 am with shaking chills, high fever, nausea, and vomitting. Last time I checked antibiotics were supposed to make you better, not worse, so I called the doctor. It was decided that the infection had just spread/gotten worse before the antibiotic has a chance to work, so I was to push fluids (which is lovely to do when it hurts to pee), take tylonal or motrin for the fever (which never broke), and wait for the bactrim to kick in.
That was Wednesday morning. So when Friday morning came along and I was still throwing up and running a fever I called the doctor again. By this time I was so sick/weak from a) not eating and b) running a fever for 3 days, that when I tried to shower I just ended up sitting on the floor of the tub because I was so dizzy, etc that I couldn't stand long enought to rinse the shampoo out of my hair. When Joe got home from work he had to help me out of the tub and into fresh PJs. (yeah, I know....what was I doing trying to shower when he wasn't home? Well, did you ever think that way when you were 24?) Anyway, it was decided that the bug had traveled to my kidneys and that it was resistant to the antibiotics I was taking. So I switched to a different one, macrobid, and I took that for the first time on Friday night.
On Saturday I woke up feeling much better. My fever had finally broke, I could keep a bit of food down, and I could stand long enough brush my teeth all by myself. That was when I saw the thrush on my tongue, which I was thouroughly annoyed by. But that was nothing compared to my reaction when I saw the rash on my chest a couple hours later. After a lot of swearing (I was pissed) Joe took me to the urgent care clinic where they told me I was having an allergic reaction (duh?) to the macrobid. So they gave me cipro, nystatin for the thrush, and told me to take an OTC anti-histamine for the rash. Ok, so I can get better now, right?
Not so much. On Sunday I woke up with swollen lips, tongue, face, hands, etc and the rash had taken over my entire body - everywhere but the palms of my hands and the bottoms of my feet. And then it started to itch. My fever was back, my head hurt again, and now this... I was smart enough to immediately cut off all of my finger nails, but naive enough to think that would stop me from trying to scratch my skin off. Ugh. Back to the clinic....more antibiotics....steroids for the reaction...anti-histamines (2 kinds) for the itching...continue the nystatin...push fluids...follow up in two weeks (after I was done with the antibiotics). I spent most of Sunday evening and night in a bathtub full of oatmeal and water, and when I wasn't in there I was in an anti-histamine induced coma. Monday night I finally started to feel human again and Tuesday was my first official day without a fever. Hey, it only took a week, right?
It picked a bad week. I got sick the day before I usually clean the house, so that didn't get done. I hadn't gone grocery shopping in forever and we were out of everything ...milk, bread, eggs....everything. I think Joe ate Ramen Noodles for dinner one night. I hadn't done anything to prepare for Thanksgiving, had a group presentation in my psych class, missed a test review in my algebra class, and caused Joe to miss his soccer tournement on Sunday. I told him to go, but he wouldn't have it...he actually stayed home from work one morning to keep an eye on me. So when Tuesday came I had a lot to do and very little energy to do it, having eaten only a few pieces of toast and a couple bowls of applesauce in a matter of 5 days.
I wasn't real thrilled about the fact that I needed to go grocery shopping two days before Thanksgiving, but I sucked it up and went. I've found that you can survive WalMart at any time, no matter how busy it is, so long as you go in a certain state of mind. If you accept that there will be an infinite number of rude, inconsiderate people in the store, then you can take a moment to rally all of your patience and calmness to accomodate those encounters. Take a deep breath, find your happy place, and embrace the experience. I think I'll call it Walmart Zen.
Oh, and make sure you're not on a schedule. If you're in a rush you're screwed.
Anyway, I spent two hours in WalMart getting everything from shampoo to sweet potatoes and went home, totally exhausted. Then, about 30 seconds after I walked into the house I realized I'd forgotten something. Something very important.
I forgot to buy a flippin' turkey.
Oh, and by the way, I don't actually own anything to roast a turkey in.
Eye yi yi...
But Joe and I went out and bought a turkey and roasting pan later than night and my very first Thanksgiving dinner that I cooked all by myself turned out pretty good. I was a little perplexed by the turkey itself...the Joy of Cooking said to cook it uncovered...but the Moms said to cover it...I don't have a turkey baster...does it really take 3 hours to cook? How the hell do you carve one of these things anyway? What am I supposed to use to tie the legs together? I found the neck, but where's the heart and all that junk? It was an experience, but it's results were tasty so I'm happy. Joe, Sara, Sara's Mom, Jake, Jonny, and Sam all came over for dinner, then we had pie and played board games. It was a pretty good turkey day, and it was kinda nice to make our own tradition this year.
So yeah, very interesting week.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Passing the time
I miss the U.P. The weather down here is getting to me - it's not supposed to be 80 degrees in mid-October! The last week hasn't been as bad - it's stayed in the 60's and dropped to the 40's at night - but it's not "fall". I love fall - the colors, the smell, the way it sounds when the leaves crunch under your feet, how great it feels to put on a sweatshirt and sit outside on a sunny fall day. But I don't get any of that here. Half the time it's too warm to wear pants, let alone a sweatshirt. For the past week I've insisted on keeping our windows open so that our house would get cold and I could put on some sweats and snuggle up with a book and some tea on the couch (you just can't do that when it's 80 out, even with AC). I was finally forced to close them when we woke up on Sunday and the place was only 62 degrees, but I still loved every minute of it. I don't know what I'm going to do when December rolls around and there's no snow. It's a whole different reason to get the Holiday Blues. So yeah, I miss the U.P.
Besides the unsatisfactory weather, things are generally well. HayZeus is still hopping along, but at a pace that the vet is happy with. HayZeus is so excited to be allowed to jump onto things - for two weeks after his surgery he was on activity restrictions so he wasn't allowed to run or jump. Do you know how hard it is to keep a cat off the furniture? Impossible. We tipped our dining room table onto it's side, locked him out of the bedrooms and bathrooms, put the dining room chairs across the couch...everything we could think of to prevent him from jumping. But that little bastard still managed - open the bedroom for 3 seconds and he was curled up on the bed, right the dining room table to eat and he was up there with you....just impossible. Thankfully, we don't have to do that anymore. His incision is completely healed and his hair is growing back, although he still looks pretty freaky. :)
I'm starting to run out of things to do with my time. I go to class 6 hours a week, have about 20 minutes of homework for each class, and am occasionally insulted that I'm paying my algebra professer to teach me how to use a graphing calculator. I really like my algebra prof - she's a great teacher and I enjoy being in her class - but I'm not in middle school so I guess I'm expecting more out of the curriculum. I shouldn't complain because I put in very little effort to get A's in the class...but still, I'm paying for this? Ugh. My psych class makes me want to shove a pencil into my eye, so it's probably a good thing I only have it once a week.
So that leaves me with a lot of time on my hands. I've applied for a lot of office assistant type jobs and a handful of phlebotomy/lab related jobs but haven't had much response. I'm thinking about applying at the video rental place at the end of the road just for something to do. Otherwise I'm at home with little to do. Our house is always spotless, I cook a lot, make sure the bills are paid, bathe the cat, all that sort of stuff (I still don't fold laundry). It's been nice to have the time/personal space to explore some hobbies - I've been doing a lot of "jewel-crafting", as Jake calls it, meaning that I've been beading/making jewelry. Joe thinks I should try to sell what I make, which I'm considering. I'm also trying to remember how to sew (which is challenging because I don't think I ever really knew before) and last week I made throw pillows to match our couch/window valance.
I guess that's about all that's going on around here. Until next time...
Besides the unsatisfactory weather, things are generally well. HayZeus is still hopping along, but at a pace that the vet is happy with. HayZeus is so excited to be allowed to jump onto things - for two weeks after his surgery he was on activity restrictions so he wasn't allowed to run or jump. Do you know how hard it is to keep a cat off the furniture? Impossible. We tipped our dining room table onto it's side, locked him out of the bedrooms and bathrooms, put the dining room chairs across the couch...everything we could think of to prevent him from jumping. But that little bastard still managed - open the bedroom for 3 seconds and he was curled up on the bed, right the dining room table to eat and he was up there with you....just impossible. Thankfully, we don't have to do that anymore. His incision is completely healed and his hair is growing back, although he still looks pretty freaky. :)
I'm starting to run out of things to do with my time. I go to class 6 hours a week, have about 20 minutes of homework for each class, and am occasionally insulted that I'm paying my algebra professer to teach me how to use a graphing calculator. I really like my algebra prof - she's a great teacher and I enjoy being in her class - but I'm not in middle school so I guess I'm expecting more out of the curriculum. I shouldn't complain because I put in very little effort to get A's in the class...but still, I'm paying for this? Ugh. My psych class makes me want to shove a pencil into my eye, so it's probably a good thing I only have it once a week.
So that leaves me with a lot of time on my hands. I've applied for a lot of office assistant type jobs and a handful of phlebotomy/lab related jobs but haven't had much response. I'm thinking about applying at the video rental place at the end of the road just for something to do. Otherwise I'm at home with little to do. Our house is always spotless, I cook a lot, make sure the bills are paid, bathe the cat, all that sort of stuff (I still don't fold laundry). It's been nice to have the time/personal space to explore some hobbies - I've been doing a lot of "jewel-crafting", as Jake calls it, meaning that I've been beading/making jewelry. Joe thinks I should try to sell what I make, which I'm considering. I'm also trying to remember how to sew (which is challenging because I don't think I ever really knew before) and last week I made throw pillows to match our couch/window valance.
I guess that's about all that's going on around here. Until next time...
Friday, October 3, 2008
Let's have a party!
Here's my political rant for the week (they'll pop up a few times between now and November 4th)
Today the House passed the much talked about "bailout bill". I'm excited about this. While I think the bulk of the bill is crap and that we shouldn't pay for banks' mistakes, it was inevitable that something like this would go through. Thus, I've found my peace with it in a tiny little amendment the Senate quietly tacked on - in all actuality, this amendment was the basis of the original bill that the bailout package was added onto. So while the bill has been deemed the "Emergency Stabilization Act of 2008" it started out as the "Paul Wellstone Mental Health and Addiction Equity Act of 2008", which requires private insurance companies to cover mental health and addiction services on parity with medical surgical services. This includes treatment limits, co-pays, deductables, inpatient services (both in and out of network), emergency services, and out of pocket maximums.
This is huge. Our mental health coverage is horrible, as is many other Americans'. If the bill had been in effect in the past 10 months we'd have saved over a thousand dollars, and it will save us hundreds of dollars in future years as well. And there are many people out there that have worse coverage and more need for services, so I'm telling you I could practically throw a party with balloons and streamers and hats and cake.
Additionally, the Act also prohits insurance companies from discriminating against individuals based on genetic information - i.e. they cannot increase premiums, drop coverage, or evaluate enrollment eligibility based on the presence of a gene linked to any specific disease.
This is also huge - my Aunt has Huntingtons disease, which is passed on genetically. Each child has a 50/50 chance of getting the gene, and research shows that you cannot be a carrier - the gene is ALWAYS expressed. Thus if you have the gene, you will develop the disease. My Aunt and Uncle have three children. The oldest tested positive for the gene, but she's the only one who's opted to be tested, partly because of the possibility of discrimination based on the test results that can and does occur. So it's a little weight off the shoulders of those who have not been tested because they no longer have to fear loss of health coverage.
Anyway, I'm excited about that ammendment. There's a couple other ones that are good too - the ones that will actually help everyday Americans - but there's a lot of junk in the rest of it. I guess you sometimes have to trade the good for the bad.
So I've decided Congress isn't completely evil - at least not this week. Now if we could only get the legislative branch to follow suit...then I'd really have to throw a big bash!
Today the House passed the much talked about "bailout bill". I'm excited about this. While I think the bulk of the bill is crap and that we shouldn't pay for banks' mistakes, it was inevitable that something like this would go through. Thus, I've found my peace with it in a tiny little amendment the Senate quietly tacked on - in all actuality, this amendment was the basis of the original bill that the bailout package was added onto. So while the bill has been deemed the "Emergency Stabilization Act of 2008" it started out as the "Paul Wellstone Mental Health and Addiction Equity Act of 2008", which requires private insurance companies to cover mental health and addiction services on parity with medical surgical services. This includes treatment limits, co-pays, deductables, inpatient services (both in and out of network), emergency services, and out of pocket maximums.
This is huge. Our mental health coverage is horrible, as is many other Americans'. If the bill had been in effect in the past 10 months we'd have saved over a thousand dollars, and it will save us hundreds of dollars in future years as well. And there are many people out there that have worse coverage and more need for services, so I'm telling you I could practically throw a party with balloons and streamers and hats and cake.
Additionally, the Act also prohits insurance companies from discriminating against individuals based on genetic information - i.e. they cannot increase premiums, drop coverage, or evaluate enrollment eligibility based on the presence of a gene linked to any specific disease.
This is also huge - my Aunt has Huntingtons disease, which is passed on genetically. Each child has a 50/50 chance of getting the gene, and research shows that you cannot be a carrier - the gene is ALWAYS expressed. Thus if you have the gene, you will develop the disease. My Aunt and Uncle have three children. The oldest tested positive for the gene, but she's the only one who's opted to be tested, partly because of the possibility of discrimination based on the test results that can and does occur. So it's a little weight off the shoulders of those who have not been tested because they no longer have to fear loss of health coverage.
Anyway, I'm excited about that ammendment. There's a couple other ones that are good too - the ones that will actually help everyday Americans - but there's a lot of junk in the rest of it. I guess you sometimes have to trade the good for the bad.
So I've decided Congress isn't completely evil - at least not this week. Now if we could only get the legislative branch to follow suit...then I'd really have to throw a big bash!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Little HayZeus Hop-along
So it's been a long time since I last updated...sorry about that. We haven't had internet for the last weekish, so I haven't really had the chance.
The big (and bad) news around here is that poor HayZeus had a little fall. He was up on the bathroom counter, and while he'd been removed from the counter many times, he wasn't getting the point, so he was sort of given a little help vacating the counter...and hit an open cabinet door on the way down. I suppose that there's really no gentle way to say we (aka Joe) shoved him off the counter and broke him, but that makes us (aka Joe) sound like cat abusers. But we love our kitty!
It actually took us a while to figure out that he was injured - since when does pushing a cat off of a three foot ledge do damage? Anyway, we realized that he wasn't out in the living room hanging out with us, nor had he come to greet us at the door, so we went to investigate. We found him hiding out under the computer desk, which happens to be about three feet from his litterbox. I started petting his belly, which he always bites me for (it's a love nibble, apparently I'm tasty), but he didn't even glare at me. So we knew he wasn't feeling well, and once we got him to walk we saw he had a very pronounced limp.
In the morning he still hadn't moved from under the desk and hadn't eaten or drank anything, so I took him to the vet. We figured he had a really bad bruise or a cut we couldn't see, but the vet took x-rays to make sure. When she came back in the room with the films and a model of a cat skeleton in her hands, I knew we were in trouble. Poor kitty had a broken leg. A broken femur to be exact - the articulating surface of the bone (big round part that goes into the hip socket) broke off from the rest of the leg. It would have to be repaired surgically, either in that office or at a specialist in Charlotte. The latter sounded really expensive and scary to me and carried more risk, but I wanted to do the best for our kitty. The vet assured me there would be no difference in his quality of life if we went with the simpler, cheaper (cheap is really not a word that should be used here) procedure though, so we decided we'd do that. He couldn't have it right away though, so he spent the weekend in my closet (I made him a little kitty kave) drugged up and immobile. :( I had to help him into his litter box the first day, but he learned to compenstate pretty quick.
He had his surgery yesterday and I picked him up from the vet this morning. He was VERY happy to see me and looked TOTALLY pathetic. He has a 8x5 inch bald spot on his right rear, an ugly (although clean) incision, bright green bandages on two of his legs (from the IV and covering his pain patch) and a great big cone around his neck. Just sad. He's doing really well though. We've been able to take the cone collar off because he's been sleeping where we can see him and doesn't seem to be interested in licking his incision (yet). He's not allowed to run or jump or walk too much for the next week, but he's already weight bearing and hobbling around. He likes to sleep where we are.
So, little HayZeus Hop-along is going to be ok. He might have a slight limp forever, but the hope is that his decappitated femur will form a false joint with his hip. He doesn't move around a ton, but he generally doesn't seem to care that he's been shaved and cut open. Plus, I really like the vet's office we took him to - it's less than a mile from here, has flexible hours, and the three doctors that worked on our kitty were really thourough and really nice. :)
Aside from HayZeus, things are business as usual here. Joe is clearly enjoying his job and has joined a soccer league. It's a co-ed league, which Joe kinda forgot to mention (not that I'd actually care), so I'm going to have to be at the games to peel all the girls off of him. I know nothing about soccer, but I'm going to try to be a crazy soccer wife that screams at the other players from the stands. Especially the chicks.
My classes are going well and I've been looking for a part-time job. Actually, my classes are boring me to tears and I'm having a hard time not strangling my PY150 classmates (they are all very, very immature and close minded), so I'm ready to take on something else. I have to be listed on the NC CNA registry in order to be a nursing student, so I'm going to take that test soon. North Carolina allows people to attempt the test without taking a training class, and most of the skills they test on were covered in my NMU nursing classes...so I think I'm going to opt out of the training. Joe's going to have to be my guinea pig and let me make the bed while he's in it and practice some ROM exercises, but I'm sure he'll be a great pretend patient. Anyway, there seems to be a lot of CNA jobs in these parts, so hopefully I can find something with decent hours.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll take some pictures of HayZeus so you can all see how wierd he looks. Poor kitty :( I'm glad he's going to be ok!!
The big (and bad) news around here is that poor HayZeus had a little fall. He was up on the bathroom counter, and while he'd been removed from the counter many times, he wasn't getting the point, so he was sort of given a little help vacating the counter...and hit an open cabinet door on the way down. I suppose that there's really no gentle way to say we (aka Joe) shoved him off the counter and broke him, but that makes us (aka Joe) sound like cat abusers. But we love our kitty!
It actually took us a while to figure out that he was injured - since when does pushing a cat off of a three foot ledge do damage? Anyway, we realized that he wasn't out in the living room hanging out with us, nor had he come to greet us at the door, so we went to investigate. We found him hiding out under the computer desk, which happens to be about three feet from his litterbox. I started petting his belly, which he always bites me for (it's a love nibble, apparently I'm tasty), but he didn't even glare at me. So we knew he wasn't feeling well, and once we got him to walk we saw he had a very pronounced limp.
In the morning he still hadn't moved from under the desk and hadn't eaten or drank anything, so I took him to the vet. We figured he had a really bad bruise or a cut we couldn't see, but the vet took x-rays to make sure. When she came back in the room with the films and a model of a cat skeleton in her hands, I knew we were in trouble. Poor kitty had a broken leg. A broken femur to be exact - the articulating surface of the bone (big round part that goes into the hip socket) broke off from the rest of the leg. It would have to be repaired surgically, either in that office or at a specialist in Charlotte. The latter sounded really expensive and scary to me and carried more risk, but I wanted to do the best for our kitty. The vet assured me there would be no difference in his quality of life if we went with the simpler, cheaper (cheap is really not a word that should be used here) procedure though, so we decided we'd do that. He couldn't have it right away though, so he spent the weekend in my closet (I made him a little kitty kave) drugged up and immobile. :( I had to help him into his litter box the first day, but he learned to compenstate pretty quick.
He had his surgery yesterday and I picked him up from the vet this morning. He was VERY happy to see me and looked TOTALLY pathetic. He has a 8x5 inch bald spot on his right rear, an ugly (although clean) incision, bright green bandages on two of his legs (from the IV and covering his pain patch) and a great big cone around his neck. Just sad. He's doing really well though. We've been able to take the cone collar off because he's been sleeping where we can see him and doesn't seem to be interested in licking his incision (yet). He's not allowed to run or jump or walk too much for the next week, but he's already weight bearing and hobbling around. He likes to sleep where we are.
So, little HayZeus Hop-along is going to be ok. He might have a slight limp forever, but the hope is that his decappitated femur will form a false joint with his hip. He doesn't move around a ton, but he generally doesn't seem to care that he's been shaved and cut open. Plus, I really like the vet's office we took him to - it's less than a mile from here, has flexible hours, and the three doctors that worked on our kitty were really thourough and really nice. :)
Aside from HayZeus, things are business as usual here. Joe is clearly enjoying his job and has joined a soccer league. It's a co-ed league, which Joe kinda forgot to mention (not that I'd actually care), so I'm going to have to be at the games to peel all the girls off of him. I know nothing about soccer, but I'm going to try to be a crazy soccer wife that screams at the other players from the stands. Especially the chicks.
My classes are going well and I've been looking for a part-time job. Actually, my classes are boring me to tears and I'm having a hard time not strangling my PY150 classmates (they are all very, very immature and close minded), so I'm ready to take on something else. I have to be listed on the NC CNA registry in order to be a nursing student, so I'm going to take that test soon. North Carolina allows people to attempt the test without taking a training class, and most of the skills they test on were covered in my NMU nursing classes...so I think I'm going to opt out of the training. Joe's going to have to be my guinea pig and let me make the bed while he's in it and practice some ROM exercises, but I'm sure he'll be a great pretend patient. Anyway, there seems to be a lot of CNA jobs in these parts, so hopefully I can find something with decent hours.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll take some pictures of HayZeus so you can all see how wierd he looks. Poor kitty :( I'm glad he's going to be ok!!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
I'm sure you've heard this rant before...
Should Smoking Around Kids Be Illegal?
I stumbled upon this article today and couldn't help but think about all of my wonderfully nicotine addicted family and friends. So yeah, I'm going to take a shot at you guys, possibly below the belt. Oops.
It might suprise you to know that my answer to the question the article poses is "no". But it's not because I respect a smoker's right to parent their children or smoke in their home or car. I don't respect that, at least not in a case when you are knowingly poisoning your children. Such a law wouldn't be resonable on a legal level though - even if it did squeak through the Supreme Court (which it wouldn't, and if it did we're in trouble...then again the Patriot Act is still kickin...) it's not enforcable and I don't see the point in making a law we can't back up. It opens the door to too many other things, like calling child abuse when a kid eats a cheeseburger. They are totally different situations, but not everyone in this country has the brains to figure that out.
The solution? Just ban smoking. If people are too stupid to not smoke around kids, then they shouldn't be allowed to smoke. There are a whole slue of substances in the world that are illegal because of the way they damage the human body. And yet, one of the few legal ones damages not only the body of the user, but the body of everyone around as well. So why should cigarettes be legal? We won't let people smoke pot, which is not addictvie *chemically* and has less harmful (but still harmful) smoke...so why should we let people smoke tobacco? Here's the real bitch of it all - when people smoke pot, they're 10000 time more respectful of those around them, probably because it's illegal. So if we make cigarettes illegal, logic says the same will happen for tobacco, right? I'm an adult, I have the ability and means to choose whether or not I want to put my lungs through a smoky environment (which you may have noticed I don't do very often). But how is a 5 year old supposed to tell you they won't get in the car because you're going to try to kill them on the way to school? They can't, and if they do they're probably going to get punished.
Every single smoker I know smokes around kids, whether it's their own or someone else's. Sure, some of the smokers in this world have make their homes smoke-free, which I applaud, but what about your cars? Why would you make your 800+ sq. ft. home smoke free but then lock your kids up in a 4x4 space and bombard them with toxins? Yeah, go a head and open that window. It fixes everything. You wouldn't lock your child in their bedroom and pump carbon monoxide into the room...but you have no problem pumping their lungs full of it in the car. Brilliant.
Many of my family members have smoke free homes, which again, I applaud. But not one of them has a smoke free car and not one of them is afraid to light up in someone else's house when children are around. I get it, you people are going to smoke until you can stop making excuses and quit, which might never happen. I'm sure you're going to be just as happy with those excuses when (God forbid) one of the children in your lives gets lung cancer. Because there's nothing like looking into a child's eyes and saying "I'm sorry you have cancer Jimmy, but I liked smoking too much to care abour your lungs."
Get a grip.
I stumbled upon this article today and couldn't help but think about all of my wonderfully nicotine addicted family and friends. So yeah, I'm going to take a shot at you guys, possibly below the belt. Oops.
It might suprise you to know that my answer to the question the article poses is "no". But it's not because I respect a smoker's right to parent their children or smoke in their home or car. I don't respect that, at least not in a case when you are knowingly poisoning your children. Such a law wouldn't be resonable on a legal level though - even if it did squeak through the Supreme Court (which it wouldn't, and if it did we're in trouble...then again the Patriot Act is still kickin...) it's not enforcable and I don't see the point in making a law we can't back up. It opens the door to too many other things, like calling child abuse when a kid eats a cheeseburger. They are totally different situations, but not everyone in this country has the brains to figure that out.
The solution? Just ban smoking. If people are too stupid to not smoke around kids, then they shouldn't be allowed to smoke. There are a whole slue of substances in the world that are illegal because of the way they damage the human body. And yet, one of the few legal ones damages not only the body of the user, but the body of everyone around as well. So why should cigarettes be legal? We won't let people smoke pot, which is not addictvie *chemically* and has less harmful (but still harmful) smoke...so why should we let people smoke tobacco? Here's the real bitch of it all - when people smoke pot, they're 10000 time more respectful of those around them, probably because it's illegal. So if we make cigarettes illegal, logic says the same will happen for tobacco, right? I'm an adult, I have the ability and means to choose whether or not I want to put my lungs through a smoky environment (which you may have noticed I don't do very often). But how is a 5 year old supposed to tell you they won't get in the car because you're going to try to kill them on the way to school? They can't, and if they do they're probably going to get punished.
Every single smoker I know smokes around kids, whether it's their own or someone else's. Sure, some of the smokers in this world have make their homes smoke-free, which I applaud, but what about your cars? Why would you make your 800+ sq. ft. home smoke free but then lock your kids up in a 4x4 space and bombard them with toxins? Yeah, go a head and open that window. It fixes everything. You wouldn't lock your child in their bedroom and pump carbon monoxide into the room...but you have no problem pumping their lungs full of it in the car. Brilliant.
Many of my family members have smoke free homes, which again, I applaud. But not one of them has a smoke free car and not one of them is afraid to light up in someone else's house when children are around. I get it, you people are going to smoke until you can stop making excuses and quit, which might never happen. I'm sure you're going to be just as happy with those excuses when (God forbid) one of the children in your lives gets lung cancer. Because there's nothing like looking into a child's eyes and saying "I'm sorry you have cancer Jimmy, but I liked smoking too much to care abour your lungs."
Get a grip.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Back to school...
So today is my first day of school..for the 20 something-ith time in my life. :) I remember when I first started college that I always had my stuff all set and ready to go no less than a week before classes started - books bought, color coded schedule taped to the front of my notebook, three ring binder with sections for each class (listed alphabetically of course!), the works. But now....I have class in 5 hours and I'm not even really sure where my book bag is! Either I've become much more laid back or I've decided that organization is overrated. But let's be honest, organization is never overrated with me, so it probably wouldn't be too much of a stretch to say I just don't have my "poop in a group" (as my Dad would say). That's ok, I've got 5 hours yet. I've always thought procrastination was underrated.
It's rainy and gross here today and I guess it's supposed to be like that for the rest of the week. Since all of my classes are in one building (actually, the entire college is in one building) I could care less if it's raining. Maybe if it's not sunny out I'll find it easier to pay attention in algebra. I find this unlikely, as I despise algebra, but who knows. I also have to go to orientation today (after class?) from 4-7. I was supposed to go to it last week, but I didn't get the memo on account of our mail being forwarded. I must say, I've been a real pain in the ass (duh) for this college in the last week and they've been gracious, friendly, and very helpful. It's like NMU but cuter. And with a dress code - a dress code that is more stringent than the one my high school carried. Interesting.
I guess that's it. I should probably work on that book bag thing, plus I have to vacuum. I've deemed Mondays as vacuum days, but I didn't do it yesterday on account of my chiropractor beating the crap out of me. She's rough, but really cool. I just wish she'd be nicer to my poor spine :(
It's rainy and gross here today and I guess it's supposed to be like that for the rest of the week. Since all of my classes are in one building (actually, the entire college is in one building) I could care less if it's raining. Maybe if it's not sunny out I'll find it easier to pay attention in algebra. I find this unlikely, as I despise algebra, but who knows. I also have to go to orientation today (after class?) from 4-7. I was supposed to go to it last week, but I didn't get the memo on account of our mail being forwarded. I must say, I've been a real pain in the ass (duh) for this college in the last week and they've been gracious, friendly, and very helpful. It's like NMU but cuter. And with a dress code - a dress code that is more stringent than the one my high school carried. Interesting.
I guess that's it. I should probably work on that book bag thing, plus I have to vacuum. I've deemed Mondays as vacuum days, but I didn't do it yesterday on account of my chiropractor beating the crap out of me. She's rough, but really cool. I just wish she'd be nicer to my poor spine :(
Monday, August 18, 2008
Just a little update
It's another beautiful day here in NC. It's strange to wake up and know you're going to wear shorts and a tank/t-shirt everyday instead of watching the forecast to see if it will be warm enough to wear short sleeves. The only problem we're having with this is that none of my shorts fit and Joe only has two pair of shorts. The pair I'm wearing today is staying on my hips only because I've got a couple safety pins taking them in on the sides. I guess we're going to have to go shopping... :)
I get the feeling that the neighborhood we live in is pretty safe. I see a lot of people on the ground floors with bikes and things on their patios and I haven't noticed any of them being locked up. The people at the pool are friendly, the kids are all inside at a decent hour, and everyone seems to respect the quiet hours established by the property managers. The maintenance guys are fast (and cute!) and take the time to pet the cat. They got my newspaper wet when the were power washing the entry ways, but I'll let that slide on account of their cuteness.
On Friday I went to the DMV to get my N.C. driver's license. Thankfully, I'd done my homework and made sure I had all the required documents and had even reviewed some stuff for the exam. But I'll tell you this - all of you Michiganders need to give your clerk a hug next time you go to the Secretary of State. In Michigan I've waited 20 minutes max to do everything from getting a new license (I lose them a lot) to renewing license plates to transferring titles. This is not the case here in N.C. To get your license, you go to the DMV and to get your plates you go to a different office that's across town. Oh, and by the way, you're going to wait 2-3 hours for your number to come up. Yeah, 3 hours, sitting on the floor (there weren't any chairs available when I got there and I was definitely not going to let 60 year old ladies and pregnant women stand) while I waited for my number to be called. And let me tell you, this isn't exactly the kinda place you want to even touch the walls, let alone sit against them. It was dirty, probably hadn't been remodeled since 1970, and was cramped. There was a sign up that said it was unsafe and unlawful to exceed the maximum occupancy of 43 people...but at any given time there were over 60 people there, and that didn't count the ones that were waiting outside. Tomorrow I have to repeat this process to get the jeep's plates transferred and then Joe will have to do both to get his license and transfer the impala. I miss the Sec. of State.
In addition to my experience at the DMV, I've found some other naiveties that have carried over from my small town upbringing. I established a PCP about a week after we got here, mostly because I needed a referral to make my first appointment with a psychiatrist. I knew it would take a little while to get into a psych, so I made sure I got in for the referral right away. All my meds are filled through the first week of September (some longer) so I figured I'd be all set up with a doc by then, three weeks should be long enough, right? Wrong. The first available appointment they had was for October 1st. I hope this long of a wait is only happening because I'm a new patient or I'll be looking for a different office, even if it means going to Charlotte. Thankfully my new PCP is really cool and had already called in refills for all my stuff before we even knew when the psych appointment was, just in case I needed them, which is awesome. But I'd been hoping to see a psychiatrist before my Ambien CR script ran out because I think I'd like to try something different given how much of a headache filling the Ambien has been. I hate the FDA and insurance companies.
I've also come to realize why people complain about WalMart so much. In Marquette the Walmart is clean, fairly organized, and the employees are generally helpful and nice. Sure, there are still some serious annoyances at that store, but nothing like down here. Walmart is always packed, people (both customers and workers) are either completely oblivious to that fact that there may be other people around and/or they are rude. The store is laid out in a way I don't understand (no flow). Oh, and it doesn't help that a little boy was molested in the bathroom there last week. So I've decided that I'm going to go somewhere else, like K-mart (which is less than a mile from here) or Target. I'm sure that keeping my sanity intact is going to be worth the extra money we'll spend.
Joe snagged us a cute little bistro patio set while he was in the U.P. (at Walmart actually...). Patio furniture isn't on clearance here yet...I'm not even sure it ever goes on clearance? It's really cute and sometime I'll post a picture of it but I don't feel like it right now. We spent most of last night sitting on the deck playing cards. The cat likes to come out with us, but wants to go in and out a lot. If we're out and he's not getting our attention to let him out he stretches up and tries to open the sliding door. If he only had thumbs.
My stomach is bugging me again today, which I'm not impressed with. This nausea thing is getting a little old. I can't seem to connect it with anything I do during the day, so I don't know why it comes and goes. And no, I'm not pregnant...why can't a woman be nauseous without everyone thinking she's knocked up? Yeesh. I'm thinking it's anxiety, but I don't feel anxious. I suppose I should see if a xanax helps anyway. I hate taking xanax, but probably not as much as being nauseous. Meh, I'll figure it out. At least I'm not having panic attacks, those really suck.
Jake starts school next week and he seems really excited. He's hoping his friend John that lives in 1304 (he's told me the kid's address like 10 times) will be in his class. John also has a little brother about 3 months older than Sam (but slightly smaller?) and Joe and Sara went over and met them all last night. They're excited to know someone in their neighborhood that speaks English well because they have a hard time understanding their other neighbors. Jonny didn't get accepted for the preschool program Sara was trying to get him into, but I'm sure that she'll appreciate having a break from at least one child everyday. The real cause of her stress is the combo of Jake and Jonny...they do everything they can to piss each other off. I hope they grow out of it, but I'm not going to hold my breath. They like coming to our house because they like our pool more than theirs. Since it's right out our door its not such a production to let them go for a swim and they've decided that the whole reason we have a second bed is for them to stay the night. Jake stayed on Friday and we spent a couple hours "jewel crafting" (that's World of Warcraft speak for beading), which he was beyond excited about. He made two necklaces, a bracelet, a pair of earrings, and a ring. I use the phrase "he made" very loosely...and I've gotta say I'm impressed with myself on the ring because it was my first time. He had a blast doing it though, so I think I'm probably going to have to get some more kid friendly supplies.
That's all for now. I've got stuff to do this afternoon, like go buy a picture frame, pick up my one hour photos from last week, vacuum (Mondays are vacuum day) and read up on IRAs and such so I can figure out where to roll my investments from Baxter. I guess they don't want to manage my accounts since I'm no longer an employee. Weird.
Toodles!
I get the feeling that the neighborhood we live in is pretty safe. I see a lot of people on the ground floors with bikes and things on their patios and I haven't noticed any of them being locked up. The people at the pool are friendly, the kids are all inside at a decent hour, and everyone seems to respect the quiet hours established by the property managers. The maintenance guys are fast (and cute!) and take the time to pet the cat. They got my newspaper wet when the were power washing the entry ways, but I'll let that slide on account of their cuteness.
On Friday I went to the DMV to get my N.C. driver's license. Thankfully, I'd done my homework and made sure I had all the required documents and had even reviewed some stuff for the exam. But I'll tell you this - all of you Michiganders need to give your clerk a hug next time you go to the Secretary of State. In Michigan I've waited 20 minutes max to do everything from getting a new license (I lose them a lot) to renewing license plates to transferring titles. This is not the case here in N.C. To get your license, you go to the DMV and to get your plates you go to a different office that's across town. Oh, and by the way, you're going to wait 2-3 hours for your number to come up. Yeah, 3 hours, sitting on the floor (there weren't any chairs available when I got there and I was definitely not going to let 60 year old ladies and pregnant women stand) while I waited for my number to be called. And let me tell you, this isn't exactly the kinda place you want to even touch the walls, let alone sit against them. It was dirty, probably hadn't been remodeled since 1970, and was cramped. There was a sign up that said it was unsafe and unlawful to exceed the maximum occupancy of 43 people...but at any given time there were over 60 people there, and that didn't count the ones that were waiting outside. Tomorrow I have to repeat this process to get the jeep's plates transferred and then Joe will have to do both to get his license and transfer the impala. I miss the Sec. of State.
In addition to my experience at the DMV, I've found some other naiveties that have carried over from my small town upbringing. I established a PCP about a week after we got here, mostly because I needed a referral to make my first appointment with a psychiatrist. I knew it would take a little while to get into a psych, so I made sure I got in for the referral right away. All my meds are filled through the first week of September (some longer) so I figured I'd be all set up with a doc by then, three weeks should be long enough, right? Wrong. The first available appointment they had was for October 1st. I hope this long of a wait is only happening because I'm a new patient or I'll be looking for a different office, even if it means going to Charlotte. Thankfully my new PCP is really cool and had already called in refills for all my stuff before we even knew when the psych appointment was, just in case I needed them, which is awesome. But I'd been hoping to see a psychiatrist before my Ambien CR script ran out because I think I'd like to try something different given how much of a headache filling the Ambien has been. I hate the FDA and insurance companies.
I've also come to realize why people complain about WalMart so much. In Marquette the Walmart is clean, fairly organized, and the employees are generally helpful and nice. Sure, there are still some serious annoyances at that store, but nothing like down here. Walmart is always packed, people (both customers and workers) are either completely oblivious to that fact that there may be other people around and/or they are rude. The store is laid out in a way I don't understand (no flow). Oh, and it doesn't help that a little boy was molested in the bathroom there last week. So I've decided that I'm going to go somewhere else, like K-mart (which is less than a mile from here) or Target. I'm sure that keeping my sanity intact is going to be worth the extra money we'll spend.
Joe snagged us a cute little bistro patio set while he was in the U.P. (at Walmart actually...). Patio furniture isn't on clearance here yet...I'm not even sure it ever goes on clearance? It's really cute and sometime I'll post a picture of it but I don't feel like it right now. We spent most of last night sitting on the deck playing cards. The cat likes to come out with us, but wants to go in and out a lot. If we're out and he's not getting our attention to let him out he stretches up and tries to open the sliding door. If he only had thumbs.
My stomach is bugging me again today, which I'm not impressed with. This nausea thing is getting a little old. I can't seem to connect it with anything I do during the day, so I don't know why it comes and goes. And no, I'm not pregnant...why can't a woman be nauseous without everyone thinking she's knocked up? Yeesh. I'm thinking it's anxiety, but I don't feel anxious. I suppose I should see if a xanax helps anyway. I hate taking xanax, but probably not as much as being nauseous. Meh, I'll figure it out. At least I'm not having panic attacks, those really suck.
Jake starts school next week and he seems really excited. He's hoping his friend John that lives in 1304 (he's told me the kid's address like 10 times) will be in his class. John also has a little brother about 3 months older than Sam (but slightly smaller?) and Joe and Sara went over and met them all last night. They're excited to know someone in their neighborhood that speaks English well because they have a hard time understanding their other neighbors. Jonny didn't get accepted for the preschool program Sara was trying to get him into, but I'm sure that she'll appreciate having a break from at least one child everyday. The real cause of her stress is the combo of Jake and Jonny...they do everything they can to piss each other off. I hope they grow out of it, but I'm not going to hold my breath. They like coming to our house because they like our pool more than theirs. Since it's right out our door its not such a production to let them go for a swim and they've decided that the whole reason we have a second bed is for them to stay the night. Jake stayed on Friday and we spent a couple hours "jewel crafting" (that's World of Warcraft speak for beading), which he was beyond excited about. He made two necklaces, a bracelet, a pair of earrings, and a ring. I use the phrase "he made" very loosely...and I've gotta say I'm impressed with myself on the ring because it was my first time. He had a blast doing it though, so I think I'm probably going to have to get some more kid friendly supplies.
That's all for now. I've got stuff to do this afternoon, like go buy a picture frame, pick up my one hour photos from last week, vacuum (Mondays are vacuum day) and read up on IRAs and such so I can figure out where to roll my investments from Baxter. I guess they don't want to manage my accounts since I'm no longer an employee. Weird.
Toodles!
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Bright and Shiny
It's kinda crappy here today...only about 75 and rainy. So no pool for me today, although it's kinda nice to turn off the air and open the windows. The cat's driving me crazy - lays on top of everything I'm trying to use/read/do, is insistent about getting up on the counters, keeps screwing with the blinds, and now he's trying to eat my burrito. Earlier he was so curious about something I was doing that I nearly cut his nose off with the scissors I was using (on accident! that's my story and I'm sticking to it!). I guess he's just back to normal, but I didn't mind it so much when he liked us and was behaving.
I've spent my entire day thus far polishing up all the silver, which has turned out to be a much more time consuming task that I had thought it would be. And, true to my usual self, I've been working on it non-stop, no breaks. There are some that think I'm manic when this happens, but on the contrary it's kind of the opposite of mania - mania does not involve the ability to focus on a single task. It's just my personality. Same concept applies to my 8 hour cleaning session upstairs at camp - when I get in the zone, I gotta finish what I started (as opposed to starting and not finishing about 10 projects, which I've also been known to do).
So aside from the Tarn-x making me gag a million times, I'm pretty proud of my little project. All of the silver is bright and shiny, I polished the cabinet and washed the glass and have begun soaking the silverware (don't worry, I'm not soaking the knives. I just threw those in the dishwasher instead....I'm kidding!). The silverware was actually still wrapped in newspaper. The cabinet has a drawer but doesn't have any dividers in it, so I hadn't quite figured out a way to store the silverware properly. Then it came to me - the answer was the Dynamic Duo.
I should probably explain that last statement, hey? A few years ago my Mom gave me some material scraps from some pajamas and things she's made over the years. One of these "scraps" (about 1.5 yards) was a Batman and Robin fleece print that I think she'd used for p.j.'s for Phil. I've been moving it around with me for about 4 years, never using it. Well, I hate to break it to you folks, but Robin isn't exactly "cool" anymore, so I don't think I could plague any child I know with such a print. But I did put it to good use!
I cut a piece of the fabric and lined the drawer with it, figuring that would be good enough until I found some proper storage solution. Then it dawned on me that I still had a ton of this stuff and that I could make pouches! Seeing how focused I was on finishing this whole project, however, I wasn't about the bust out the sewing machine to craft some temporary pouches, so I did the McGyver thing and whipped out the stapler. Wahlah! 10 individual silverware pouches. My Grandmother's fine silver is now protected by none other than Batman and Robin.
Another interesting tidbit about the silver - for our wedding, Joe's parents gave us a gorgeous silver bowl from a company called Reed and Barton. It's called a Paul Revere bowl as the design was originally crafted by him and it's beautifully engraved "Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Pilon September 29th, 2007 (that's our wedding date for those of you that haven't been paying attention for the last year). When I unpacked my Grandmother's silver pieces I noticed a bowl that was oddly more familiar than the other pieces (keep in mind I hadn't seen any of our wedding gifts in 9 months and I had not yet unpacked our silver/crystal, thus our bowl wasn't on the forefront of my mind). Later, when I unpacked our things, I took our bowl out of the box and set it in the cabinet, and that's when it clicked.
My Grandmother's bowl was a smaller version of the bowl we'd been given! I assumed it was simply alike in design and looked for some differences between the two, but when I turned it over I found a blue oval sticker that read "Reed and Barton" just like the sticker on the bottom of our bowl. How neat is that? I know it's a popular design (it's been replicated by a bunch of silver companies) but what are the chances that my Grandparents had the same bowl, made by the same company? I don't know the bowl's history, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it was a wedding gift to them as well. :) I've been really into family history lately (I'm collecting photos, send 'em if you got 'em) so this was very exciting to me.
One last significant thing about my day - Sam (our 5 months old nephew on the Kirkwood side) had his MRI today to check for neurological abnormalities that might be related to his cross-eyedness and it came back totally clear. He'll see the ophthalmologist again in a few weeks to start exploring ways to correct his eye alignment.
Other than that I don't really have anything exciting to report. It's hot all the time (today being the coldest day by far - like 10+ degrees colder) and it's not supposed to rain again in the next 9 days. I'm digging hanging out by the pool and I'm excited to have found a local farmer's market and a Trader Joe's (it's in Charlotte, but still). It turns out that there are a lot of neato things that you would normally have to travel into the city for right here in Concord on account of Concord Mills (giant mall). Oh, and there's a roller rink about 500 yards from my front door 0 yeah, I said roller rink. I didn't even know they still existed, but this one does and every Tuesday it's dollar night. I'll have a broken arm or head or something in no time!
I'm registered for classes but am waiting to get accepted to Cabarrus College of Health Sciences so I can declare myself as a degree seeking student instead of a non-degree seeking student. It's a financial aid thing, and don't even get me started on the application process. Apparently it's necessary for a person with a bachelor's degree to write an essay, submit HS transcripts, college transcripts, ACT scores, and two letters of reference to get into a community college. Whatever. If all goes well I'll attend UNCC in January (I opted to go to CCHS this fall because it's cheaper, closer, and transfers). I'm nervous about applying for the nursing program because my grades from NMU aren't exactly stellar, but I'm hoping my experience working in the healthcare field will make up for that. They give extra consideration for people who have worked (volunteer or paid) 50 hours or more in a healthcare setting...I think I got that covered.
Joe's in Marquette right now closing up the call center up there, so I've been flying solo and will continue to do so until Sunday. I recently discovered that we can get 9 channels via bunny ears, so I've been able to watch the Olympics and the news. Tomorrow I think I'm going to venture to Charlotte and check some stuff out...tour UNCC, visit Trader Joe's, see what other kind of trouble I can get into. Driving in the city will be a little nerve racking given the crappy brakes on the Jeep, but I'm sure I'll survive. Joe's bringing back the parts from Pat this weekend and some guy Pat knows down here (that's a mechanic) is going to put them on for us, so we're getting cheap parts and labor. I swear, Pat knows "some guy" everywhere.
At that I'm going to wrap it up - I need to shower to get all the silver polish out of my pores. Until next time...
I've spent my entire day thus far polishing up all the silver, which has turned out to be a much more time consuming task that I had thought it would be. And, true to my usual self, I've been working on it non-stop, no breaks. There are some that think I'm manic when this happens, but on the contrary it's kind of the opposite of mania - mania does not involve the ability to focus on a single task. It's just my personality. Same concept applies to my 8 hour cleaning session upstairs at camp - when I get in the zone, I gotta finish what I started (as opposed to starting and not finishing about 10 projects, which I've also been known to do).
So aside from the Tarn-x making me gag a million times, I'm pretty proud of my little project. All of the silver is bright and shiny, I polished the cabinet and washed the glass and have begun soaking the silverware (don't worry, I'm not soaking the knives. I just threw those in the dishwasher instead....I'm kidding!). The silverware was actually still wrapped in newspaper. The cabinet has a drawer but doesn't have any dividers in it, so I hadn't quite figured out a way to store the silverware properly. Then it came to me - the answer was the Dynamic Duo.
I should probably explain that last statement, hey? A few years ago my Mom gave me some material scraps from some pajamas and things she's made over the years. One of these "scraps" (about 1.5 yards) was a Batman and Robin fleece print that I think she'd used for p.j.'s for Phil. I've been moving it around with me for about 4 years, never using it. Well, I hate to break it to you folks, but Robin isn't exactly "cool" anymore, so I don't think I could plague any child I know with such a print. But I did put it to good use!
I cut a piece of the fabric and lined the drawer with it, figuring that would be good enough until I found some proper storage solution. Then it dawned on me that I still had a ton of this stuff and that I could make pouches! Seeing how focused I was on finishing this whole project, however, I wasn't about the bust out the sewing machine to craft some temporary pouches, so I did the McGyver thing and whipped out the stapler. Wahlah! 10 individual silverware pouches. My Grandmother's fine silver is now protected by none other than Batman and Robin.
Another interesting tidbit about the silver - for our wedding, Joe's parents gave us a gorgeous silver bowl from a company called Reed and Barton. It's called a Paul Revere bowl as the design was originally crafted by him and it's beautifully engraved "Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Pilon September 29th, 2007 (that's our wedding date for those of you that haven't been paying attention for the last year). When I unpacked my Grandmother's silver pieces I noticed a bowl that was oddly more familiar than the other pieces (keep in mind I hadn't seen any of our wedding gifts in 9 months and I had not yet unpacked our silver/crystal, thus our bowl wasn't on the forefront of my mind). Later, when I unpacked our things, I took our bowl out of the box and set it in the cabinet, and that's when it clicked.
My Grandmother's bowl was a smaller version of the bowl we'd been given! I assumed it was simply alike in design and looked for some differences between the two, but when I turned it over I found a blue oval sticker that read "Reed and Barton" just like the sticker on the bottom of our bowl. How neat is that? I know it's a popular design (it's been replicated by a bunch of silver companies) but what are the chances that my Grandparents had the same bowl, made by the same company? I don't know the bowl's history, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it was a wedding gift to them as well. :) I've been really into family history lately (I'm collecting photos, send 'em if you got 'em) so this was very exciting to me.
One last significant thing about my day - Sam (our 5 months old nephew on the Kirkwood side) had his MRI today to check for neurological abnormalities that might be related to his cross-eyedness and it came back totally clear. He'll see the ophthalmologist again in a few weeks to start exploring ways to correct his eye alignment.
Other than that I don't really have anything exciting to report. It's hot all the time (today being the coldest day by far - like 10+ degrees colder) and it's not supposed to rain again in the next 9 days. I'm digging hanging out by the pool and I'm excited to have found a local farmer's market and a Trader Joe's (it's in Charlotte, but still). It turns out that there are a lot of neato things that you would normally have to travel into the city for right here in Concord on account of Concord Mills (giant mall). Oh, and there's a roller rink about 500 yards from my front door 0 yeah, I said roller rink. I didn't even know they still existed, but this one does and every Tuesday it's dollar night. I'll have a broken arm or head or something in no time!
I'm registered for classes but am waiting to get accepted to Cabarrus College of Health Sciences so I can declare myself as a degree seeking student instead of a non-degree seeking student. It's a financial aid thing, and don't even get me started on the application process. Apparently it's necessary for a person with a bachelor's degree to write an essay, submit HS transcripts, college transcripts, ACT scores, and two letters of reference to get into a community college. Whatever. If all goes well I'll attend UNCC in January (I opted to go to CCHS this fall because it's cheaper, closer, and transfers). I'm nervous about applying for the nursing program because my grades from NMU aren't exactly stellar, but I'm hoping my experience working in the healthcare field will make up for that. They give extra consideration for people who have worked (volunteer or paid) 50 hours or more in a healthcare setting...I think I got that covered.
Joe's in Marquette right now closing up the call center up there, so I've been flying solo and will continue to do so until Sunday. I recently discovered that we can get 9 channels via bunny ears, so I've been able to watch the Olympics and the news. Tomorrow I think I'm going to venture to Charlotte and check some stuff out...tour UNCC, visit Trader Joe's, see what other kind of trouble I can get into. Driving in the city will be a little nerve racking given the crappy brakes on the Jeep, but I'm sure I'll survive. Joe's bringing back the parts from Pat this weekend and some guy Pat knows down here (that's a mechanic) is going to put them on for us, so we're getting cheap parts and labor. I swear, Pat knows "some guy" everywhere.
At that I'm going to wrap it up - I need to shower to get all the silver polish out of my pores. Until next time...
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Home Sweet Home
Today we officially finished moving in. All of the boxes are empty, all of the pictures are on the wall, and all of our stuff is in it's permanent place. I can't even begin to tell you how awesome it feels to finally be settled, especially since I am completely in love with our apartment. It's the first time I've moved into a place and actually had the resources and time to unpack and decorate properly, and I'm very proud of the cute little apartment we've set up. Here are some pictures:
Our dining room - we haven't seen anything in this room (not one item!) in over 6 months. We never really got the chance to use our table at our old apartment...we've actually only used it for a total of 4 months since we bought it in 2006! The runner on the wall and the place mats were a wedding gift from Joe's Aunt Sue (she made them) and the contents of the china cabinet includes wedding gifts we never got to take out of the box and my Grandma Kirkwood's crystal and silver.
The Kitchen
The Kitchen
Our living room, complete with a cat skin rug. :) The pink chairs were my Grandmother's, and we found a gorgeous table to go with them at a going out of business sale. It was originally $200 but we got it for $40!! Joe is slowly turning our place into a greenhouse as he becomes more and more obsessed with the plants, but they do look nice so I'll let it slide. The only thing I could possibly think of to add to this room is a coffee table, but we're not sure we want one. We like open spaces. We'll see.
This is the guest room y-all be staying in when you come visit. :)
This is our bedroom. I'm super excited to have the bed on an actual frame (the frame had to be stored before) and even though it's too hot to put my down comforter/duvet on the bed, I like the way it looks.
This is Joe's man bathroom, which he is just tickled about.
This is my chick bathroom - I'm also very excited.
And finally, this is our patio/balcony. You can also see our pool in the background.
Joe and I also have our own walk-in closets, which totally rocks (although I think he's more excited than I am...he has more clothes than I do and just as many shoes!).
When we haven't been unpacking we've been venturing out to find things like Walmart and grocery stores. I was surprised to find that groceries are generally more expensive down here, which doesn't make any sense to me. Wouldn't it cost more to ship stuff all the way to the U.P.? I was pleasantly surprised to find Leinenkugel's in the beer isle - we didn't think we would find the Wisconsin based beer we love down here.
We don't live very far from Joe and Sara or Joe's work and thus far we're finding our neighborhood to be pleasant. Most of our neighbors (especially all the kids) have said hi to us and we even had a girl come ask us to borrow a cup of sugar! I didn't even know people actually still did that. So most things are going really well. The thing I'm struggling with the most is the weather. It's hot and humid, which in itself is ok, but we aren't used to hydrating like this place requires. Also, since it's always so nice I'm constantly wearing sandals, which means my feet are constantly getting dirty....I'm not dealing well with that. I wash them a lot.
That's about it for now. Tomorrow Joe goes in for his first day at work in NC, which means I'll be at home with the cat (!). I'll probably venture out and try to find stuff like the DMV and the Post Office and maybe visit Sara and the kids. This weekend Jonny is having his birthday party at Chucky Cheese, and I'm looking forward to the bad pizza and screaming kids (for real). I'll try to remember to take some good pictures to post. :)
Ciao!
When we haven't been unpacking we've been venturing out to find things like Walmart and grocery stores. I was surprised to find that groceries are generally more expensive down here, which doesn't make any sense to me. Wouldn't it cost more to ship stuff all the way to the U.P.? I was pleasantly surprised to find Leinenkugel's in the beer isle - we didn't think we would find the Wisconsin based beer we love down here.
We don't live very far from Joe and Sara or Joe's work and thus far we're finding our neighborhood to be pleasant. Most of our neighbors (especially all the kids) have said hi to us and we even had a girl come ask us to borrow a cup of sugar! I didn't even know people actually still did that. So most things are going really well. The thing I'm struggling with the most is the weather. It's hot and humid, which in itself is ok, but we aren't used to hydrating like this place requires. Also, since it's always so nice I'm constantly wearing sandals, which means my feet are constantly getting dirty....I'm not dealing well with that. I wash them a lot.
That's about it for now. Tomorrow Joe goes in for his first day at work in NC, which means I'll be at home with the cat (!). I'll probably venture out and try to find stuff like the DMV and the Post Office and maybe visit Sara and the kids. This weekend Jonny is having his birthday party at Chucky Cheese, and I'm looking forward to the bad pizza and screaming kids (for real). I'll try to remember to take some good pictures to post. :)
Ciao!
Saturday, August 2, 2008
the big move
So, after months and months of waiting, weeks and weeks of packing, and days and days of driving, we've finally made it to North Carolina. And now we have boxes and boxes of stuff to unpack! Yay! Truthfully, unpacking hasn't been bad. We haven't seen most of our stuff in over 6 months and we've never even used half of it (some of our wedding presents didn't have the chance to get out of the box) so unpacking is a little like Christmas here at the Pilon house...every box has something to get excited about in it.
We had some uhaul issues getting down here - first u-haul wanted us to drive to Wisconsin to pick up our u-haul (Joe promptly told them where to shove it) but they finally magicked one up for us in Gladstone. Sill too far, but whatever. We got the truck and Joe, Mike, Troy, and Aaron had it packed up in an hour flat. Then we had to put the Jeep on the back. There's some big long explanation about a drive shaft and transfer case or something, but basically the Jeep wasn't attached to the tow dolly correctly and every time we stopped Joe found that the straps holding the Jeep onto the dolly had slipped off. We weren't very interested in driving through the mountains with such equipment, so on Wednesday (day two) we tried to find another u-haul place along the way to switch out the tow dolly for an auto-transporter. Long story short, we spent 2 hours driving around Columbus, OH to get one only to find out there wasn't one in all of Ohio. On the plus side though, the dudes at the last uhaul place we went to figured out why the straps were falling off and once that was fixed we were good to go. Still a colossal waste of time.
With the uhaul fiasco behind us we were pretty frustrated, so we called it an early day on the driving front. So on our first day (Tuesday) we made it from Gwinn to Toledo, but on our second day (Wednesday) we only made it from Toledo to Logan, OH, which is almost two hours from the WV border. Not a very productive day, but oh well. I wasn't feeling well, so I was glad we stopped early.
When I woke up on Thursday I knew I was officially sick, since I could breathe out of my nose and my sinuses felt like they were going to explode. Ugh. We stopped at a Walmart before we hit the road and I spent like 20 minutes in the cold medicine isle trying to find the right crap...do you know how hard it is to find a cold medicine that doesn't contain a nasal decongestant? Really hard. I had to read a million boxes! (Nasal decongestants can cause insomnia and they keep me up all night, regardless of whatever sleeping medication I take, so I avoid them.) And then we drive through West Virginia and Virginia...in all of their ear popping, sinus pressure building glory. Nice.
We got to Concord at about 7:45 that night. We decided to stay at a hotel rather than Joe and Sara's because I didn't want to get the kids sick. We checked in and the Joseph Kirkwood family came by to see us. Since we were at the same hotel they had stayed at when they arrived in Concord, Jake and Jonny were more than happy to show us where the pool was and where we could "get our own breakfast." By the time everyone was out of the pool (I didn't go) I had a fever and was feeling particularly pissy, so I got ready for bed.
HayZeus traveled well and thoroughly enjoyed the hotels we stayed in. We'd gotten him some tranquilizers from the vet for the drive and he actually seemed to enjoy parts of the ride. He mostly stayed in the Jeep but when it got too warm he rode up front with us. When Jake and Jonny were here yesterday I think he would have gladly traded hanging out with them for another day in the Jeep!
After signing our lease and getting our keys, we scoped out the apartment. It's not as clean as I require it to be and from the smell of things the previous tenants were smokers, but I can fix that stuff. I took pictures of the whole place and wrote down any blemishes we found so we would have a baseline when we moved out. Joe and Joe pretty much unloaded the u-haul and brought everything up to our second floor apartment by themselves in 95 degree heat. I think they may have produced enough sweat to fill our pool. I wasn't exactly productive, but we still got a lot done.
The cat likes the new place. There's lots for him to check out right now and I think he actually missed us. I don't remember him being this affectionate, nor do I remember him being this calm. I suppose 6 months with a dog and a 3 year old can make you appreciate the calmer side of life.
I like the new place too (sans the smell, which I'm working on). Our living room is hugenormous, Joe and I have our own separate walk in closets and bathrooms, we have a cute little patio, and a guest bedroom that actually has a bed in it (courtesy of Mom and Steve). I'm hoping to get the rest of the boxes unpacked today and get out first grocery shopping trip out of the way...you know, the one where you have to buy everything under the sun? Eventually I'll post some pictures of everything, but not today.
It's nice to finally have our own place again. And our own stuff again. Living with Dee and Mastin worked out so well for us, but I was tied of living in a perpetual state of moving. I'm also really glad that Joe and Sara are down here. It's like having a little piece of the U.P. down here, which I think will be key for me in the next couple months. And then when we get sick of them, all you other Michiganders can start visiting (HINT). :)
Ok, I'm off to find breakfast. I think we might have since instant oatmeal in a box somewhere. It's either that or Doritos and M&Ms....maybe I won't look for the oatmeal....hmm...
We had some uhaul issues getting down here - first u-haul wanted us to drive to Wisconsin to pick up our u-haul (Joe promptly told them where to shove it) but they finally magicked one up for us in Gladstone. Sill too far, but whatever. We got the truck and Joe, Mike, Troy, and Aaron had it packed up in an hour flat. Then we had to put the Jeep on the back. There's some big long explanation about a drive shaft and transfer case or something, but basically the Jeep wasn't attached to the tow dolly correctly and every time we stopped Joe found that the straps holding the Jeep onto the dolly had slipped off. We weren't very interested in driving through the mountains with such equipment, so on Wednesday (day two) we tried to find another u-haul place along the way to switch out the tow dolly for an auto-transporter. Long story short, we spent 2 hours driving around Columbus, OH to get one only to find out there wasn't one in all of Ohio. On the plus side though, the dudes at the last uhaul place we went to figured out why the straps were falling off and once that was fixed we were good to go. Still a colossal waste of time.
With the uhaul fiasco behind us we were pretty frustrated, so we called it an early day on the driving front. So on our first day (Tuesday) we made it from Gwinn to Toledo, but on our second day (Wednesday) we only made it from Toledo to Logan, OH, which is almost two hours from the WV border. Not a very productive day, but oh well. I wasn't feeling well, so I was glad we stopped early.
When I woke up on Thursday I knew I was officially sick, since I could breathe out of my nose and my sinuses felt like they were going to explode. Ugh. We stopped at a Walmart before we hit the road and I spent like 20 minutes in the cold medicine isle trying to find the right crap...do you know how hard it is to find a cold medicine that doesn't contain a nasal decongestant? Really hard. I had to read a million boxes! (Nasal decongestants can cause insomnia and they keep me up all night, regardless of whatever sleeping medication I take, so I avoid them.) And then we drive through West Virginia and Virginia...in all of their ear popping, sinus pressure building glory. Nice.
We got to Concord at about 7:45 that night. We decided to stay at a hotel rather than Joe and Sara's because I didn't want to get the kids sick. We checked in and the Joseph Kirkwood family came by to see us. Since we were at the same hotel they had stayed at when they arrived in Concord, Jake and Jonny were more than happy to show us where the pool was and where we could "get our own breakfast." By the time everyone was out of the pool (I didn't go) I had a fever and was feeling particularly pissy, so I got ready for bed.
HayZeus traveled well and thoroughly enjoyed the hotels we stayed in. We'd gotten him some tranquilizers from the vet for the drive and he actually seemed to enjoy parts of the ride. He mostly stayed in the Jeep but when it got too warm he rode up front with us. When Jake and Jonny were here yesterday I think he would have gladly traded hanging out with them for another day in the Jeep!
After signing our lease and getting our keys, we scoped out the apartment. It's not as clean as I require it to be and from the smell of things the previous tenants were smokers, but I can fix that stuff. I took pictures of the whole place and wrote down any blemishes we found so we would have a baseline when we moved out. Joe and Joe pretty much unloaded the u-haul and brought everything up to our second floor apartment by themselves in 95 degree heat. I think they may have produced enough sweat to fill our pool. I wasn't exactly productive, but we still got a lot done.
The cat likes the new place. There's lots for him to check out right now and I think he actually missed us. I don't remember him being this affectionate, nor do I remember him being this calm. I suppose 6 months with a dog and a 3 year old can make you appreciate the calmer side of life.
I like the new place too (sans the smell, which I'm working on). Our living room is hugenormous, Joe and I have our own separate walk in closets and bathrooms, we have a cute little patio, and a guest bedroom that actually has a bed in it (courtesy of Mom and Steve). I'm hoping to get the rest of the boxes unpacked today and get out first grocery shopping trip out of the way...you know, the one where you have to buy everything under the sun? Eventually I'll post some pictures of everything, but not today.
It's nice to finally have our own place again. And our own stuff again. Living with Dee and Mastin worked out so well for us, but I was tied of living in a perpetual state of moving. I'm also really glad that Joe and Sara are down here. It's like having a little piece of the U.P. down here, which I think will be key for me in the next couple months. And then when we get sick of them, all you other Michiganders can start visiting (HINT). :)
Ok, I'm off to find breakfast. I think we might have since instant oatmeal in a box somewhere. It's either that or Doritos and M&Ms....maybe I won't look for the oatmeal....hmm...
Friday, May 9, 2008
the boogie man finally moved out
I suppose it's no secret I've had trouble sleeping for months now and that I take quite a bit of medication to alleviate the problem. My inability to stay asleep started at the beginning of January when I went weeks getting only a few hours of sleep a night. I finally went to the doctor and started taking medication to help me sleep.
Something many people don't know is that sleep medications affect people in different ways. I started on a med called ambien, which allowed me to get in a couple extra hours a night but wasn't preventing me from waking up every hour or so. Rather than up the dose (which was really already maxed, but she said we could safely double it?) the doctor told me to take it as usual and then take another one if I woke up during the night. Sounded like a good plan.
Well, when Joe and I were at his sister's in LA a week later I was having a very difficult time (although I would quickly get worse when we got home). Sleeping in an unfamiliar place isn't exactly therapeutic when you're already having problems, but Becky and Fonsi had done a great job of setting up a room for us. It was comfortable and private. So I took my meds like a good little girl and tried to put on a happy face while we were there.
One night I took my ambien and lay down to sleep with Joe. He fell asleep immediately, so I just tried to turn my brain off and let the pill work. It's hard to describe what happened, but I found myself in this weird in-between state. It felt like my body was asleep because I had no control over skeletal muscle function; I distinctly remember not being able to move my arms or legs. But I was still awake, still thinking, still seeing, still hearing. I didn't understand it at all. Then I remember turning my head (or at least thinking I did) to the side. I could see everything that was on that side of the room - the door, the night stand, the carpet, etc. There was one thing, however, that couldn't possibly have been there. I was staring at myself.
I'm not sure I can explain how horrifying that was for me. I sat up sweating and hyperventilating and absolutely terrified. I woke Joe up and tried to explain what I'd experienced. He calmed me down and had me take another ambien and I made him stay up with me until it kicked in. I was afraid to let myself fall asleep because I didn't want to see that again, but eventually the meds knocked me out.
When I woke up the next day I was still scared. I thought I'd been hallucinating. It was too real to be a dream, which made it even worse. If I'd been hallucinating it meant that I was extremely bad off, much more so than I'd thought. I called my psychiatrist immediately after waking up and left a message.
She called back and explained that what I'd experienced was mostly likely something called hynagogic paralysis, more commonly called sleep paralysis. Sleep paralysis occurs when the brain awakes from a REM state, but the bodily paralysis persists. This leaves the person fully conscious, but unable to move. In addition, the state may be accompanied by terrifying hallucinations which cause an acute sense of danger.
So it turns out I probably was hallucinating, but not in the oh-my-god-I'm-psychotic-and-will-have-to-be-sedated kind of way. But that didn't take away the fact that I was now scared out of my mind to go to sleep at night. I was afraid of the dark, afraid of my dreams, and afraid it would happen again. Since then I haven't been able to fall asleep without Joe with me or without the TV on, no matter how medicated I am (my psychiatrist switched me to an extended release medication, ambien CR, which I take a shit ton of but I no longer care that I can't sleep without it).
Well, last night something fantastic happened. Joe is out of town for work so I've been sleeping by myself all week, but never without the TV or a light on. But last night I was feeling good about going to sleep; I wasn't afraid to turn off the lights and be alone. So I turned off the TV and the light and tried to fall asleep like a normal person (after taking my medication, which I've been given a little more license over).
At first it was a little rocky - part of the reason I was unable to sleep before was because I couldn't turn my brain off...I'd think about anything and everything. But soon I found myself drifting off (which means I quit drifting, because if you realize you are drifting it means you've woken up to realize it, but I eventually drifted off totally). And then I woke up...because my alarm was going off. I'd successfully gone to sleep with a light or a tv or a Joe, stayed asleep, and didn't have any dreams or nightmares. This is a big deal, a very good big deal.
I've kind of come to terms with the fact that I'm going to need sleep medication for a long time, if not forever, at least intermittently. But I'm ecstatic that I am finally able to fall asleep and wake up normally, without fear, and feeling like I got a good nights sleep.
Actually, there are a lot of very good big deals going on for me lately. I've felt so much more like myself. I'm smiling more than I'm not smiling, social situations don't freak me out as much, I'm taking less and less xanax, and I generally feel good. My sense of humor, while forever sarcastic, is less cynical and more present. I have the concentration to read a book without having to re-read every paragraph. My appetite has stabilized, I don't have to be dragged out of the house, and I'm excited about things again. I have a few down moments here and there; there are still some things that automatically send me into panic, but that's ok. Those situations are manageable because I know how to help myself when they happen and because I finally know that I can get out of the hole I was in. I may take a lot of medication and still have to see my therapist once a week, but so long as my liver can stand it and my therapist is helpful I'm completely willing to keep on truckin'. I feel...well, I actually feel! And the feeling is finally good more often than not. :)
Something many people don't know is that sleep medications affect people in different ways. I started on a med called ambien, which allowed me to get in a couple extra hours a night but wasn't preventing me from waking up every hour or so. Rather than up the dose (which was really already maxed, but she said we could safely double it?) the doctor told me to take it as usual and then take another one if I woke up during the night. Sounded like a good plan.
Well, when Joe and I were at his sister's in LA a week later I was having a very difficult time (although I would quickly get worse when we got home). Sleeping in an unfamiliar place isn't exactly therapeutic when you're already having problems, but Becky and Fonsi had done a great job of setting up a room for us. It was comfortable and private. So I took my meds like a good little girl and tried to put on a happy face while we were there.
One night I took my ambien and lay down to sleep with Joe. He fell asleep immediately, so I just tried to turn my brain off and let the pill work. It's hard to describe what happened, but I found myself in this weird in-between state. It felt like my body was asleep because I had no control over skeletal muscle function; I distinctly remember not being able to move my arms or legs. But I was still awake, still thinking, still seeing, still hearing. I didn't understand it at all. Then I remember turning my head (or at least thinking I did) to the side. I could see everything that was on that side of the room - the door, the night stand, the carpet, etc. There was one thing, however, that couldn't possibly have been there. I was staring at myself.
I'm not sure I can explain how horrifying that was for me. I sat up sweating and hyperventilating and absolutely terrified. I woke Joe up and tried to explain what I'd experienced. He calmed me down and had me take another ambien and I made him stay up with me until it kicked in. I was afraid to let myself fall asleep because I didn't want to see that again, but eventually the meds knocked me out.
When I woke up the next day I was still scared. I thought I'd been hallucinating. It was too real to be a dream, which made it even worse. If I'd been hallucinating it meant that I was extremely bad off, much more so than I'd thought. I called my psychiatrist immediately after waking up and left a message.
She called back and explained that what I'd experienced was mostly likely something called hynagogic paralysis, more commonly called sleep paralysis. Sleep paralysis occurs when the brain awakes from a REM state, but the bodily paralysis persists. This leaves the person fully conscious, but unable to move. In addition, the state may be accompanied by terrifying hallucinations which cause an acute sense of danger.
So it turns out I probably was hallucinating, but not in the oh-my-god-I'm-psychotic-and-will-have-to-be-sedated kind of way. But that didn't take away the fact that I was now scared out of my mind to go to sleep at night. I was afraid of the dark, afraid of my dreams, and afraid it would happen again. Since then I haven't been able to fall asleep without Joe with me or without the TV on, no matter how medicated I am (my psychiatrist switched me to an extended release medication, ambien CR, which I take a shit ton of but I no longer care that I can't sleep without it).
Well, last night something fantastic happened. Joe is out of town for work so I've been sleeping by myself all week, but never without the TV or a light on. But last night I was feeling good about going to sleep; I wasn't afraid to turn off the lights and be alone. So I turned off the TV and the light and tried to fall asleep like a normal person (after taking my medication, which I've been given a little more license over).
At first it was a little rocky - part of the reason I was unable to sleep before was because I couldn't turn my brain off...I'd think about anything and everything. But soon I found myself drifting off (which means I quit drifting, because if you realize you are drifting it means you've woken up to realize it, but I eventually drifted off totally). And then I woke up...because my alarm was going off. I'd successfully gone to sleep with a light or a tv or a Joe, stayed asleep, and didn't have any dreams or nightmares. This is a big deal, a very good big deal.
I've kind of come to terms with the fact that I'm going to need sleep medication for a long time, if not forever, at least intermittently. But I'm ecstatic that I am finally able to fall asleep and wake up normally, without fear, and feeling like I got a good nights sleep.
Actually, there are a lot of very good big deals going on for me lately. I've felt so much more like myself. I'm smiling more than I'm not smiling, social situations don't freak me out as much, I'm taking less and less xanax, and I generally feel good. My sense of humor, while forever sarcastic, is less cynical and more present. I have the concentration to read a book without having to re-read every paragraph. My appetite has stabilized, I don't have to be dragged out of the house, and I'm excited about things again. I have a few down moments here and there; there are still some things that automatically send me into panic, but that's ok. Those situations are manageable because I know how to help myself when they happen and because I finally know that I can get out of the hole I was in. I may take a lot of medication and still have to see my therapist once a week, but so long as my liver can stand it and my therapist is helpful I'm completely willing to keep on truckin'. I feel...well, I actually feel! And the feeling is finally good more often than not. :)
Friday, April 18, 2008
water bottles and staplers
So my day is going along just fine. I've done the laundry, packed for our trip to Grayling, applied to NMU in case I decide to take summer classes, filled out my FAFSA...a very productive day I must say.
In an effort to have everything ready to go when Joe gets home, I decided to pack us a couple of sandwiches and stuff for the road and get everything put into the impala. Once in the impala I was going to head to the bank, although I can't remember why anymore (other than for money).
So I head out to the impala with our bag, two jackets, my purse, two books, our packed snacks, my keys, some mail for the mail box, and two water bottles. Of course it's raining, but I'm still feeling pretty good about the day, so it's not a big deal. Then the bag got caught in the door and I (inevitably, it would seem) dropped one of the water bottles.
It's weird when you drop something and you kind of see it falling in slow motion as you say to yourself "please don't break" or "please don't spill" or whatever over and over again. In this specific case, my thought was "please don't fall into the gutter" (as in the deep little pit in front of the basement windows). And of course, as usually is the case, that's exactly what it did.
So now I'm a little annoyed because I was excited to have to car perfectly packed, but nothing I can't get over, ya know? Deep breath and all that stuff. So I start walking to the car as the rain suddenly started coming down much faster. I fumbled the keys, dropped them into the mud, and then saw that I was going to have to wade through a puddle to get to the back door of the car to put our stuff in there.
At this point, I'm pretty much miffed. I got out stuff in the car and climbed into the drivers seat to head to the bank. As I'm sitting behind the wheel it dawns on me that I really have no reason to go to the bank. At all. Perfect, now I can relax and chill out after the unfortunate series of events that had just taken place.
I'm going to go ahead and throw the obvious pun out there - when it rains, it pours. I still have to get the stuff to the mailbox, but I've decided that a little rain is no big deal. So I jog over to put the item into the box. Earlier in the day I'd put some other important stuff in there for the post-person to get, but it hadn't been picked up yet. So I opened the already flag-up box to put the extra item in.
It should be noted that our mailbox has a slight "I've been hit by a baseball bat" look to it. And hey, I'm totally cool with mailboxes building character so what do I care?
I'll tell you why I care. I care because a bent mailbox doesn't close properly. And when a mailbox doesn't close properly it lets rain in. It rained today. So all of the shit I'd put in there earlier (i.e. my app to NMU, some documentation for our FSA, etc) was wet. My frustration is growing, no matter how hard I'm try to curb it. I took it out on the mailbox a little bit, but I swear it was only because it NEEDED to be bent a different way. Seriously, true story.
Ok, the bags are in the car, the mail is in the mailbox, I don't need to go to the bank...so all that's left is getting that water bottle out of the mud hole it fell into. Immediately I note that it's in an area that will put me directly beneath all of those huge drops/streams of water that come off the roof when it's raining. Absolutely no way around them, as if I'm not wet enough. But I can't leave it in there, so I went in.
I must mention something seemingly unrelated at this point. I only own two pairs of jeans. Well, that's not entirely correct, but let's just say I only own two wearable pairs of jeans The rest have stubbornly decided that they do not want to be worn on hips of my size, discriminating bastards. Obviously, I'm wearing one of these pairs. In fact, it's my favorite pair.
Back to the story. The only way to get to the water bottle is to get into the hole, nothing I can do about that. So I carefully lowered one leg into the whole as the other went into the squat position. And that's when it happened.
As soon as I heard the sound I knew it wasn't going to be some little tear. Without having to look I knew that I was dealing with a gargantuan hole. Further inspection proved me right - my favorite jeans had ripped from seam to seam on the inside of my thigh about 3 inches from my crotch.
I have my limits people.
This was the last straw.
I had no choice but to set the building on fire. Red stapler and all.
(Truthfully I just ended up coming inside, going directly to the computer and ordering new jeans...same ones, same color, same size. But setting the building on fire was a much better ending.)
In an effort to have everything ready to go when Joe gets home, I decided to pack us a couple of sandwiches and stuff for the road and get everything put into the impala. Once in the impala I was going to head to the bank, although I can't remember why anymore (other than for money).
So I head out to the impala with our bag, two jackets, my purse, two books, our packed snacks, my keys, some mail for the mail box, and two water bottles. Of course it's raining, but I'm still feeling pretty good about the day, so it's not a big deal. Then the bag got caught in the door and I (inevitably, it would seem) dropped one of the water bottles.
It's weird when you drop something and you kind of see it falling in slow motion as you say to yourself "please don't break" or "please don't spill" or whatever over and over again. In this specific case, my thought was "please don't fall into the gutter" (as in the deep little pit in front of the basement windows). And of course, as usually is the case, that's exactly what it did.
So now I'm a little annoyed because I was excited to have to car perfectly packed, but nothing I can't get over, ya know? Deep breath and all that stuff. So I start walking to the car as the rain suddenly started coming down much faster. I fumbled the keys, dropped them into the mud, and then saw that I was going to have to wade through a puddle to get to the back door of the car to put our stuff in there.
At this point, I'm pretty much miffed. I got out stuff in the car and climbed into the drivers seat to head to the bank. As I'm sitting behind the wheel it dawns on me that I really have no reason to go to the bank. At all. Perfect, now I can relax and chill out after the unfortunate series of events that had just taken place.
I'm going to go ahead and throw the obvious pun out there - when it rains, it pours. I still have to get the stuff to the mailbox, but I've decided that a little rain is no big deal. So I jog over to put the item into the box. Earlier in the day I'd put some other important stuff in there for the post-person to get, but it hadn't been picked up yet. So I opened the already flag-up box to put the extra item in.
It should be noted that our mailbox has a slight "I've been hit by a baseball bat" look to it. And hey, I'm totally cool with mailboxes building character so what do I care?
I'll tell you why I care. I care because a bent mailbox doesn't close properly. And when a mailbox doesn't close properly it lets rain in. It rained today. So all of the shit I'd put in there earlier (i.e. my app to NMU, some documentation for our FSA, etc) was wet. My frustration is growing, no matter how hard I'm try to curb it. I took it out on the mailbox a little bit, but I swear it was only because it NEEDED to be bent a different way. Seriously, true story.
Ok, the bags are in the car, the mail is in the mailbox, I don't need to go to the bank...so all that's left is getting that water bottle out of the mud hole it fell into. Immediately I note that it's in an area that will put me directly beneath all of those huge drops/streams of water that come off the roof when it's raining. Absolutely no way around them, as if I'm not wet enough. But I can't leave it in there, so I went in.
I must mention something seemingly unrelated at this point. I only own two pairs of jeans. Well, that's not entirely correct, but let's just say I only own two wearable pairs of jeans The rest have stubbornly decided that they do not want to be worn on hips of my size, discriminating bastards. Obviously, I'm wearing one of these pairs. In fact, it's my favorite pair.
Back to the story. The only way to get to the water bottle is to get into the hole, nothing I can do about that. So I carefully lowered one leg into the whole as the other went into the squat position. And that's when it happened.
As soon as I heard the sound I knew it wasn't going to be some little tear. Without having to look I knew that I was dealing with a gargantuan hole. Further inspection proved me right - my favorite jeans had ripped from seam to seam on the inside of my thigh about 3 inches from my crotch.
I have my limits people.
This was the last straw.
I had no choice but to set the building on fire. Red stapler and all.
(Truthfully I just ended up coming inside, going directly to the computer and ordering new jeans...same ones, same color, same size. But setting the building on fire was a much better ending.)
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
validation
While I wouldn't have believed it possible last Thursday, I've managed to survive a colposcopy. I was crampy and sorta sore on Friday, but I've had worse. Yesterday the doctor's office called to tell me the results of the biopsies weren't anything to be concerned about.
I asked the nurse to have Dr. Pond call me personally at her convenience because I think it's important that someone know how uniformed I was. I didn't even receive aftercare instructions, so if I hadn't dug it up on the internet I wouldn't have had any clue that I wasn't supposed to use tampons, have sex, use a hot tub, etc for a week. I also wouldn't have known that I should expect the "spotting" (holy understatement) to be gray or black nor did I know how long it was supposed to last. How would I have known that I should be keeping an eye out for excessive bleeding and signs of infection? I didn't even know what the signs of infection were! (Ok, well maybe I could have figured those out, but they shouldn't assume that) I also think I should have had to sign a consent for this, but I guess that's their problem. Along with worrying about the results, I think most of the reason I was so upset about the procedure was because I felt so disrespected. As if pelvic exams aren't demeaning enough. Once I talk to Dr. Pond I think I'll feel at peace about the whole thing.
In other news...
On Friday I saw Dr. Moore, my psychologist. I've definitely grown to like him and am comfortable talking about everything with him. On Friday we talked about my job and how I'm scared that once I'm healthy enough to return to work that I'll just crash again. I don't want to put all this effort into making progress just to have Biolife take it away. He asked me to explain why I felt that I would have a hard time returning to the center, so I went over how I felt strung along and how I perceived the management and working environment. He analyzed the situation perfectly (as psychologists do) - the number one issue I have with my job there is that I feel completely powerless. And powerlessness is not something that a person with my particular personality and disposition deals with well.
I'm not able to sit back and watch as my managers disrespect and abuse my coworkers and are so unethical and apathetic when dealing with things like safety. At the same time, however, speaking up only makes me a target for them. I'm not scared that I'll get fired, but I can certainly recognize that my work environment would suddenly become "less pleasant." This "damned if I do, damned if I don't" situation is so stressful to me that I'm nothing short of miserable from the moment I walk in the back door. Even since I've been off work I find myself worrying about how horribly my co-workers are treated and feel somewhat responsible for how much harder they have to work since management refuses to do anything about our staffing shortage. Since I know that an improvement in my mood isn't going to change the dynamic of my work environment I'm plagued with anxiety about returning. But when I recognize that I'm feeling that way a part of me convinces my brain that I'm just trying to avoid having to work.
To my great relief, Dr. Moore immediately dismissed the idea that I'm trying to dodge having to work. He said his observations have shown that I am not the type that wants to sit at home without purpose, and he's right. Not being able to work makes me feel useless, so I busy myself with keeping the house clean or making sure our finances are managed appropriately or taking our cars in for maintenance or doing the grocery shopping...the list goes on. Anything I can find to make me feel like I'm accomplishing something for someone other than myself.
In addition to assuring me that he didn't think I was trying to avoid working, Dr. Moore told me something even more significant. After allowing me to explain the conditions at the center and the reasons I was so worried about returning, he told me I wasn't the first patient he had heard such things from. He'd heard from many people (some patients, some not) about the hostile working environment at Biolife and said I wasn't the only one that had such anxiety associated with the center and it's management. I can't explain how relieving it was to hear my feeling validated. He suggested that perhaps I should find a different job, but once I explained our situation with moving he agreed that quitting wasn't necessarily feasible. He said that he wouldn't recommend that I return to work until we've resolved my anger and angst toward my current employer, no matter if it took 20 minutes or 20 sessions. I think my sigh of relief was both audible and physically noticeable to him. I was so worried that my general improvement would force me to return to Biolife and ruin all of my progress. Wanting so badly to return to normal while concurrently being petrified of it is a contradiction that's very hard to sort out.
I still haven't called the center to "touch base" with them, but I don't care. Really, my health isn't any of their business. My human resource department placed me on FMLA and communicates with my short term disability company on whether or not to keep me there. So if the center's management can't figure out that HR handles this, well that's their problem. If they want an update, they can call HR. In fact, I believe that's their job and I don't feel like doing it for them.
There's that anger thing.
To end on a positive note, Joe and I (aka me - one of those things that makes me feel useful) are planning out the remainder of our time here and are excited about all of the things we're going to do. Not all of our dates are set in stone, as we're waiting for some confirmation on a couple of things, but this is our current version:
April 18-20: Visit Grayling
April 26-27: Visit my Mom at East Paint Lake
May 3: Graduation Party for some of Joe's fraternity brothers
May 5-9 or 10: I'm possibly going to visit my Grandmother and other family in Denver
May 10: Mary to take a bead class with sisters...PS, it's my birthday. If you need an address to send cards and gifts, just ask :)
May 16-18: Joe and I will drive to Grayling, then I'll carry on to Flint for Kristy's Bridal Shower.
May 22-26: Driving to North Carolina to house hunt, etc, with my brother Joe and his wife Sara
May 31-June 1: Possible date for Mackinac Island, depending on my Dad's schedule
June 7: Tentative date for a joint going away party, since Joe and Sara are going earlier than us
June 14-15: Back up date for Mackinac Island
June 13-15: Camping at Tahquamenon Falls
June 26-29: Visiting Grand Island with my Dad, Teri, and Joe's parents and brother
July 3-5: Fourth of July festivities in Gwinn, Little Lake, and Marquette
July 17-20: Travel to Kristy and Cason's wedding in Grand Blanc
So at this point, we really only have one or two open weekends for the next three months. About half of our dates are tentative as we try to coordinate with family, but that's the general idea. We're also planning on taking a pictured rocks cruise as well as a hike through Dead River Falls, but that will either be on a weeknight or on an open Sunday. All of our family members are invited to join us for any of these adventures. Hopefully our busy schedule won't be too wearing - most of our activities should be fairly relaxing.
We're both really excited to have actually made plans for all of the things we'd like to do before we leave. :)
I asked the nurse to have Dr. Pond call me personally at her convenience because I think it's important that someone know how uniformed I was. I didn't even receive aftercare instructions, so if I hadn't dug it up on the internet I wouldn't have had any clue that I wasn't supposed to use tampons, have sex, use a hot tub, etc for a week. I also wouldn't have known that I should expect the "spotting" (holy understatement) to be gray or black nor did I know how long it was supposed to last. How would I have known that I should be keeping an eye out for excessive bleeding and signs of infection? I didn't even know what the signs of infection were! (Ok, well maybe I could have figured those out, but they shouldn't assume that) I also think I should have had to sign a consent for this, but I guess that's their problem. Along with worrying about the results, I think most of the reason I was so upset about the procedure was because I felt so disrespected. As if pelvic exams aren't demeaning enough. Once I talk to Dr. Pond I think I'll feel at peace about the whole thing.
In other news...
On Friday I saw Dr. Moore, my psychologist. I've definitely grown to like him and am comfortable talking about everything with him. On Friday we talked about my job and how I'm scared that once I'm healthy enough to return to work that I'll just crash again. I don't want to put all this effort into making progress just to have Biolife take it away. He asked me to explain why I felt that I would have a hard time returning to the center, so I went over how I felt strung along and how I perceived the management and working environment. He analyzed the situation perfectly (as psychologists do) - the number one issue I have with my job there is that I feel completely powerless. And powerlessness is not something that a person with my particular personality and disposition deals with well.
I'm not able to sit back and watch as my managers disrespect and abuse my coworkers and are so unethical and apathetic when dealing with things like safety. At the same time, however, speaking up only makes me a target for them. I'm not scared that I'll get fired, but I can certainly recognize that my work environment would suddenly become "less pleasant." This "damned if I do, damned if I don't" situation is so stressful to me that I'm nothing short of miserable from the moment I walk in the back door. Even since I've been off work I find myself worrying about how horribly my co-workers are treated and feel somewhat responsible for how much harder they have to work since management refuses to do anything about our staffing shortage. Since I know that an improvement in my mood isn't going to change the dynamic of my work environment I'm plagued with anxiety about returning. But when I recognize that I'm feeling that way a part of me convinces my brain that I'm just trying to avoid having to work.
To my great relief, Dr. Moore immediately dismissed the idea that I'm trying to dodge having to work. He said his observations have shown that I am not the type that wants to sit at home without purpose, and he's right. Not being able to work makes me feel useless, so I busy myself with keeping the house clean or making sure our finances are managed appropriately or taking our cars in for maintenance or doing the grocery shopping...the list goes on. Anything I can find to make me feel like I'm accomplishing something for someone other than myself.
In addition to assuring me that he didn't think I was trying to avoid working, Dr. Moore told me something even more significant. After allowing me to explain the conditions at the center and the reasons I was so worried about returning, he told me I wasn't the first patient he had heard such things from. He'd heard from many people (some patients, some not) about the hostile working environment at Biolife and said I wasn't the only one that had such anxiety associated with the center and it's management. I can't explain how relieving it was to hear my feeling validated. He suggested that perhaps I should find a different job, but once I explained our situation with moving he agreed that quitting wasn't necessarily feasible. He said that he wouldn't recommend that I return to work until we've resolved my anger and angst toward my current employer, no matter if it took 20 minutes or 20 sessions. I think my sigh of relief was both audible and physically noticeable to him. I was so worried that my general improvement would force me to return to Biolife and ruin all of my progress. Wanting so badly to return to normal while concurrently being petrified of it is a contradiction that's very hard to sort out.
I still haven't called the center to "touch base" with them, but I don't care. Really, my health isn't any of their business. My human resource department placed me on FMLA and communicates with my short term disability company on whether or not to keep me there. So if the center's management can't figure out that HR handles this, well that's their problem. If they want an update, they can call HR. In fact, I believe that's their job and I don't feel like doing it for them.
There's that anger thing.
To end on a positive note, Joe and I (aka me - one of those things that makes me feel useful) are planning out the remainder of our time here and are excited about all of the things we're going to do. Not all of our dates are set in stone, as we're waiting for some confirmation on a couple of things, but this is our current version:
April 18-20: Visit Grayling
April 26-27: Visit my Mom at East Paint Lake
May 3: Graduation Party for some of Joe's fraternity brothers
May 5-9 or 10: I'm possibly going to visit my Grandmother and other family in Denver
May 10: Mary to take a bead class with sisters...PS, it's my birthday. If you need an address to send cards and gifts, just ask :)
May 16-18: Joe and I will drive to Grayling, then I'll carry on to Flint for Kristy's Bridal Shower.
May 22-26: Driving to North Carolina to house hunt, etc, with my brother Joe and his wife Sara
May 31-June 1: Possible date for Mackinac Island, depending on my Dad's schedule
June 7: Tentative date for a joint going away party, since Joe and Sara are going earlier than us
June 14-15: Back up date for Mackinac Island
June 13-15: Camping at Tahquamenon Falls
June 26-29: Visiting Grand Island with my Dad, Teri, and Joe's parents and brother
July 3-5: Fourth of July festivities in Gwinn, Little Lake, and Marquette
July 17-20: Travel to Kristy and Cason's wedding in Grand Blanc
So at this point, we really only have one or two open weekends for the next three months. About half of our dates are tentative as we try to coordinate with family, but that's the general idea. We're also planning on taking a pictured rocks cruise as well as a hike through Dead River Falls, but that will either be on a weeknight or on an open Sunday. All of our family members are invited to join us for any of these adventures. Hopefully our busy schedule won't be too wearing - most of our activities should be fairly relaxing.
We're both really excited to have actually made plans for all of the things we'd like to do before we leave. :)
Thursday, April 10, 2008
i've been violated.
So when Dr. Kroll's office called after my most recent yearly PAP smear and told me that there were abnormal cells I was a little freaked out, but I was able to get over that. They referred me to an gynecologist and scheduled me for April 10th (today). I remember being told that the GYN would take a closer look at my cervix and put a solution on it to determine what strain of virus I had. In fact, I was really under the impression that I was having another PAP smear with more advanced cytology and pathology testing. PAP smears are no picnic, so I wasn't looking forward to it, but you deal with it. That's life as a woman.
So I get to the office and sit in the waiting room, surrounded by pregnant women. No, really, every one of them was pregnant. The nurse calls me back and takes my weight and BP and all that normal stuff they do when you go to the doctor. My BP was actually a little high, but since I was about to have a huge metal apparatus shoved up me I figured that was normal. She asks me to give a urine sample (which means I peed on my hand because I've never, ever managed to pee in a cup without doing so) and then met me in the hallway and took me to the exam room.
That's when she dropped the bomb on me. It turns out I was having a colposcopy today. For those of you who haven't experienced this, allow me to enlighten you:
-The doctor came in, talked to me, then proceeded to shove the aforementioned metal thing up in my vagina and spread it apart. Not confortable, but no big deal. SOP for gyn exams.
-Second, she took a q-tip and wiped vinegar all over my cervix. It doesn't tickle, trust me. But again, it's manageable.
-Third, she took a pair of high tech binoculars and checked out the inside of my vaj jay jay and my cervix. She saw white cells, so she scraped them off. Yes, I said scrape. And not with that bottle brush looking thing they use for PAP smears. I am pretty sure she used a machete.
-Fourth, and this is my favorite part, she tells me to give her a big cough on the count of three. I'm amused by this because it reminds me of the "turn your head and cough" part of a dude's physical. But I wasn't amused for long -as soon as I coughed she shoved something up into my cervix (like where babies come from) and cut a chunk out of it. That's when I started to cry (and don't you dare call me a wuss until you've had a part of your body cut out without any anesthetic). Better yet, we repeated that 3 times. That's right, THREE times.
-After that things got a little fuzzy, but I will tell you that there was more poking and scraping around in there. I was just too lightheaded to remember exactly what she said she was doing.
-Then my uterus began to cramp in ways I didn't realize it was capable of...oh, and I started bleeding. Pretty significantly, at least until she smeared this stuff all up in there to help it stop. And I'm talking all UP in there, which means she was basically poking the areas that she's just ripped off a chunk of with a q-tip.
When she was done she told me to take my time getting dressed and she'd see me in the hallway. I laid on the table, my legs still up in stir ups, too scared to move. I was in so much pain and I was sure that moving would make it worse. So I probably laid there for a solid 5 minutes. Eventually I took my legs down, one at a time, and slowly got my clothes on. I felt like I was going to pass out at any minute.
And I can't tell you how excited I was when she told me that if the chunks inside my cervix come back abnormal that I get to come back and have the inside wall of my cervix removed. If they don't numb me for that I'll probably murder them with the speculum. Speculums aren't sharp, but I'm positive I'd be able to do enough damage.
No one told me that this was going to happen. NO ONE. I didn't find out that I was getting pieces of my body cut out of me (without anestetic) until I was in the room half naked. I'm not happy about this. Someone should have informed me...Dr. Krolls office perhaps? Could the Ob/GYN associates have included a post-it note in my patient information pack they sent me? No, that would be too logical, too ethical. Why would they tell me beforehand? And PS, shouldn't I have had to sign some sort of consent? They technically just stole part of my body from me...we had no prior agreement that they could have it.
I don't know what giving birth is like, but after today I'm soooooo not interested in it that I think I might consider celibacy, just to be sure. Abstinence, after all, is the only 100% effective method of BC.
So I get to the office and sit in the waiting room, surrounded by pregnant women. No, really, every one of them was pregnant. The nurse calls me back and takes my weight and BP and all that normal stuff they do when you go to the doctor. My BP was actually a little high, but since I was about to have a huge metal apparatus shoved up me I figured that was normal. She asks me to give a urine sample (which means I peed on my hand because I've never, ever managed to pee in a cup without doing so) and then met me in the hallway and took me to the exam room.
That's when she dropped the bomb on me. It turns out I was having a colposcopy today. For those of you who haven't experienced this, allow me to enlighten you:
-The doctor came in, talked to me, then proceeded to shove the aforementioned metal thing up in my vagina and spread it apart. Not confortable, but no big deal. SOP for gyn exams.
-Second, she took a q-tip and wiped vinegar all over my cervix. It doesn't tickle, trust me. But again, it's manageable.
-Third, she took a pair of high tech binoculars and checked out the inside of my vaj jay jay and my cervix. She saw white cells, so she scraped them off. Yes, I said scrape. And not with that bottle brush looking thing they use for PAP smears. I am pretty sure she used a machete.
-Fourth, and this is my favorite part, she tells me to give her a big cough on the count of three. I'm amused by this because it reminds me of the "turn your head and cough" part of a dude's physical. But I wasn't amused for long -as soon as I coughed she shoved something up into my cervix (like where babies come from) and cut a chunk out of it. That's when I started to cry (and don't you dare call me a wuss until you've had a part of your body cut out without any anesthetic). Better yet, we repeated that 3 times. That's right, THREE times.
-After that things got a little fuzzy, but I will tell you that there was more poking and scraping around in there. I was just too lightheaded to remember exactly what she said she was doing.
-Then my uterus began to cramp in ways I didn't realize it was capable of...oh, and I started bleeding. Pretty significantly, at least until she smeared this stuff all up in there to help it stop. And I'm talking all UP in there, which means she was basically poking the areas that she's just ripped off a chunk of with a q-tip.
When she was done she told me to take my time getting dressed and she'd see me in the hallway. I laid on the table, my legs still up in stir ups, too scared to move. I was in so much pain and I was sure that moving would make it worse. So I probably laid there for a solid 5 minutes. Eventually I took my legs down, one at a time, and slowly got my clothes on. I felt like I was going to pass out at any minute.
And I can't tell you how excited I was when she told me that if the chunks inside my cervix come back abnormal that I get to come back and have the inside wall of my cervix removed. If they don't numb me for that I'll probably murder them with the speculum. Speculums aren't sharp, but I'm positive I'd be able to do enough damage.
No one told me that this was going to happen. NO ONE. I didn't find out that I was getting pieces of my body cut out of me (without anestetic) until I was in the room half naked. I'm not happy about this. Someone should have informed me...Dr. Krolls office perhaps? Could the Ob/GYN associates have included a post-it note in my patient information pack they sent me? No, that would be too logical, too ethical. Why would they tell me beforehand? And PS, shouldn't I have had to sign some sort of consent? They technically just stole part of my body from me...we had no prior agreement that they could have it.
I don't know what giving birth is like, but after today I'm soooooo not interested in it that I think I might consider celibacy, just to be sure. Abstinence, after all, is the only 100% effective method of BC.
Monday, April 7, 2008
I'm told my blogs are entertaining, so even though I think they are too negative I guess I'm going to continue writing them.
Things have been kind of up and down lately, which is to be expected I guess. I think I've gotten better, but I'm not sure if it's improvement or just change. My life has definitely regained some stability and I'm sure that's helping quite a bit. But I still don't feel like myself. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm depressed and I've stopped denying how down I really am. Sometimes I tinker on the line of self-pity but I try to be vigilant and positive. It's exhausting.
When I first took time off work my biggest concern was my anxiety. I just couldn't handle being at work; it was nearly impossible to try to pull myself together and appear normal. I felt like I was barely able to keep my head above water and at some point I really couldn't. I didn't feel well on my days off either, but I was certainly more at peace than when I was at the center. I knew I was not happy with my job but I'm not sure I really recognized how miserable it was making me. Beyond it being a horrible work environment I'm generally dissatisfied by where I am career wise. I don't have any sense of pride in what I do and I expect myself to be doing something more. I didn't struggle through 4 years of college to work somewhere that requires me to have a high school diploma. What happened to my ambition?
When I started back at Biolife I was given a very strong impression that they intended to take me beyond a line staff position. I was encouraged to apply for a few different positions immediately and was optimistic that I might be able to make something more out of my time there. I probably should have figured out last summer that this wasn't the case, but I was distracted with planning and paying for a wedding. Even when I was made full time I think they were just trying to pacify me. Not to sound arrogant, but I was passed over for positions I was far more qualified for than other applicants. I think that's about the time I started to realize I hated everything about my job and that center. And it's not even worth explaining how horrible the management team has become...once Jeff left the whole center went to hell. My experience with the center has left me angry, disgusted, and disappointed. Mostly with myself.
I'm ready to go beyond this sort of job, but I'm scared to take that step. I don't really see my particular degree landing me a job I'll actually like...or at least not one that would fit into the lifestyle I'd like (schedule wise). Now more than ever I need stability in my life, not ever changing shifts or crazy paced projects. So where I do I go from here? The easy answer is back to school but I don't think I should be making such a huge decision right now. People shouldn't commit to life changing experiences while depressed, the results are often less than perfect. So I'm waiting. I'm also not entirely certain how we'd pay for such an endeavor, although Joe doesn't seem concerned about this at all. I trust his judgment, but I still worry.
I fear the possibility of failure if I chose to take this path. Pursuing my first bachelor's degree was a train wreck. I'm too intelligent to have earned the grades that appear on my transcripts and to have abandoned a profession that I've wanted to pursue since I was 14. I convinced myself that I wouldn't like it, that I hated everything about it. And I really did hate my classes, but in retrospect I know that it wasn't because of the content. It was because I couldn't tackle them. I couldn't keep myself together. Not to knock all of us poli sci majors out there, but it's a degree that is much much easier to obtain. The difference is beyond measurement. I'm glad that I managed to graduate, but in the end my current degree means little to me without the other; I'd always intended them to compliment each other. College defeated me...sometimes it occurs to me that I was lucky to make it out alive. So even though the circumstances are completely different and I know that the only one I'd be disappointing is myself I'm terrified of screwing it up again. At some point in my life I have to start accepting that the people that love me don't love me for my accomplishments.
I don't want to go back to my job at Biolife. That's not to say I don't want to go back to working once I'm healthy enough to do so. I still hate being unable to work...it would be totally different if I was home with a broken leg or something. I'm tormented by my own personal stigma of mental illness...one minute I'll be certain I can return to work and to next I'm curled up in a ball praying for the panic to pass or the meds to work. The roller coaster of it all is so frustrating and I'm not sure I'll ever be convinced that people understand.
I don't want to convince myself that I shouldn't go back to my current job, but the fact is that a majority of my panic attacks are preceded by thoughts of going to work. Apparently they thought I was coming back this week and I found out on Friday that I was on the schedule, full time. I have many issues with this - first, were they going to tell me I was scheduled? Did they think I would just magically know that I was supposed to come to work? Second, full time? Are you kidding me? Third, the idea of being back in that center scares the shit out of me. I can't even answer the phone when they call. I had to have Joe check my voice mail for me. It's not about going back to work, it's about going back to Biolife.
So at this point I'd rather quit my job than return when my health improves. But then what? We're moving in July...finding a new job seems idiotic to me. Not only would I have a hard time finding such a short term job but I'm not too excited about the prospect of being tied to a job in which I'm not invested. We intend to use our remaining time in the UP to enjoy our surroundings and our family. I'm not going to give that up for some temporary job that means nothing to me or my future. This problem presents itself at Biolife as well. I had to use all of my vacation before I used my disability. This means I'd have no time to go to North Carolina for house hunting, no time to spend on Grand Island, no free weekends for camping or going downstate to see Joe's parents, no time off to attend Kristy's bridal shower. And if I go back part-time I'll still end up working 4-5 days a week because part-timers do short shifts in the afternoon. This is not acceptable to me. We can survive without my paycheck, but it will be difficult to do all of these activities without a second income. Still, I think I would rather be poor than miss the opportunity to enjoy our remaining time here. On the priority list of life money doesn't rank very high for me.
On the plus side of things my irritability has decreased, which I'm sure is a huge relief to Joe. I've also think that I'm getting better at interacting with Mastin (Dee's son) when he's here. It's really easy to get pissy at a five year old because, well, he's five. He's got more energy in his pinky than I do in my entire body in a week. I really hated that I was annoyed by him so much because he's a really sweet kid. It wasn't just him of course...the list of people that I've been bitchy about isn't exactly short and the younger you are the higher you are on the list. I mean I have a brand new nephew and I think I've held him for a total of 10 minutes. I've been avoiding children (and certain adults) like the plague. Since when do I not like kids, seriously? I was once everyone's favorite aunt and now I'm avoiding them? That's not me, and yet it's been my attitude for a long time.
I have less generalized anxiety but have had a significant increase in panic attacks...I can't decide which is worse. I certainly hated being antsy and worried all the time. You know that feeling you get when you get pulled over? That's what its like all the time. So I don't miss that, obviously. But panic attacks are no picnic. In truth they're terrifying. Most of the time I can get through them on my own but there are times when I feel so horrible that I can't believe I'm going to get through it. These are the ones that require a lot of xanax and knock me out. It's strange the kind of physical stress it puts your body through. And it seems like these are the ones that happen when I'm by myself and everyone else is at work and unavailable. I'm only going to call Joe at work bawling my eyes out so many times, my Mom stresses me out, and my sister(s) are at work. So I try to deal (save it Laura, I can only find so many people to hang out with during the day).
My last thing I'm going to complain about today is that I'm bored. So bored. Heinously bored. I'm not one to sit still (especially not right now!) but I'm out of ideas. I've been trying to read, started making jewelry, have been hitting the gym, and have been trying to get outside and take walks. My weekends are generally my best days. I've been seeing friends and family a lot more. But I've also lost interest in a lot of things - cooking, baking, writing to my Grandma, stuff like that. I need to figure out how to expand the number of things I can actually find joy in, because Joe coming home from work can't be the only thing I look forward to anymore.
Things have been kind of up and down lately, which is to be expected I guess. I think I've gotten better, but I'm not sure if it's improvement or just change. My life has definitely regained some stability and I'm sure that's helping quite a bit. But I still don't feel like myself. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm depressed and I've stopped denying how down I really am. Sometimes I tinker on the line of self-pity but I try to be vigilant and positive. It's exhausting.
When I first took time off work my biggest concern was my anxiety. I just couldn't handle being at work; it was nearly impossible to try to pull myself together and appear normal. I felt like I was barely able to keep my head above water and at some point I really couldn't. I didn't feel well on my days off either, but I was certainly more at peace than when I was at the center. I knew I was not happy with my job but I'm not sure I really recognized how miserable it was making me. Beyond it being a horrible work environment I'm generally dissatisfied by where I am career wise. I don't have any sense of pride in what I do and I expect myself to be doing something more. I didn't struggle through 4 years of college to work somewhere that requires me to have a high school diploma. What happened to my ambition?
When I started back at Biolife I was given a very strong impression that they intended to take me beyond a line staff position. I was encouraged to apply for a few different positions immediately and was optimistic that I might be able to make something more out of my time there. I probably should have figured out last summer that this wasn't the case, but I was distracted with planning and paying for a wedding. Even when I was made full time I think they were just trying to pacify me. Not to sound arrogant, but I was passed over for positions I was far more qualified for than other applicants. I think that's about the time I started to realize I hated everything about my job and that center. And it's not even worth explaining how horrible the management team has become...once Jeff left the whole center went to hell. My experience with the center has left me angry, disgusted, and disappointed. Mostly with myself.
I'm ready to go beyond this sort of job, but I'm scared to take that step. I don't really see my particular degree landing me a job I'll actually like...or at least not one that would fit into the lifestyle I'd like (schedule wise). Now more than ever I need stability in my life, not ever changing shifts or crazy paced projects. So where I do I go from here? The easy answer is back to school but I don't think I should be making such a huge decision right now. People shouldn't commit to life changing experiences while depressed, the results are often less than perfect. So I'm waiting. I'm also not entirely certain how we'd pay for such an endeavor, although Joe doesn't seem concerned about this at all. I trust his judgment, but I still worry.
I fear the possibility of failure if I chose to take this path. Pursuing my first bachelor's degree was a train wreck. I'm too intelligent to have earned the grades that appear on my transcripts and to have abandoned a profession that I've wanted to pursue since I was 14. I convinced myself that I wouldn't like it, that I hated everything about it. And I really did hate my classes, but in retrospect I know that it wasn't because of the content. It was because I couldn't tackle them. I couldn't keep myself together. Not to knock all of us poli sci majors out there, but it's a degree that is much much easier to obtain. The difference is beyond measurement. I'm glad that I managed to graduate, but in the end my current degree means little to me without the other; I'd always intended them to compliment each other. College defeated me...sometimes it occurs to me that I was lucky to make it out alive. So even though the circumstances are completely different and I know that the only one I'd be disappointing is myself I'm terrified of screwing it up again. At some point in my life I have to start accepting that the people that love me don't love me for my accomplishments.
I don't want to go back to my job at Biolife. That's not to say I don't want to go back to working once I'm healthy enough to do so. I still hate being unable to work...it would be totally different if I was home with a broken leg or something. I'm tormented by my own personal stigma of mental illness...one minute I'll be certain I can return to work and to next I'm curled up in a ball praying for the panic to pass or the meds to work. The roller coaster of it all is so frustrating and I'm not sure I'll ever be convinced that people understand.
I don't want to convince myself that I shouldn't go back to my current job, but the fact is that a majority of my panic attacks are preceded by thoughts of going to work. Apparently they thought I was coming back this week and I found out on Friday that I was on the schedule, full time. I have many issues with this - first, were they going to tell me I was scheduled? Did they think I would just magically know that I was supposed to come to work? Second, full time? Are you kidding me? Third, the idea of being back in that center scares the shit out of me. I can't even answer the phone when they call. I had to have Joe check my voice mail for me. It's not about going back to work, it's about going back to Biolife.
So at this point I'd rather quit my job than return when my health improves. But then what? We're moving in July...finding a new job seems idiotic to me. Not only would I have a hard time finding such a short term job but I'm not too excited about the prospect of being tied to a job in which I'm not invested. We intend to use our remaining time in the UP to enjoy our surroundings and our family. I'm not going to give that up for some temporary job that means nothing to me or my future. This problem presents itself at Biolife as well. I had to use all of my vacation before I used my disability. This means I'd have no time to go to North Carolina for house hunting, no time to spend on Grand Island, no free weekends for camping or going downstate to see Joe's parents, no time off to attend Kristy's bridal shower. And if I go back part-time I'll still end up working 4-5 days a week because part-timers do short shifts in the afternoon. This is not acceptable to me. We can survive without my paycheck, but it will be difficult to do all of these activities without a second income. Still, I think I would rather be poor than miss the opportunity to enjoy our remaining time here. On the priority list of life money doesn't rank very high for me.
On the plus side of things my irritability has decreased, which I'm sure is a huge relief to Joe. I've also think that I'm getting better at interacting with Mastin (Dee's son) when he's here. It's really easy to get pissy at a five year old because, well, he's five. He's got more energy in his pinky than I do in my entire body in a week. I really hated that I was annoyed by him so much because he's a really sweet kid. It wasn't just him of course...the list of people that I've been bitchy about isn't exactly short and the younger you are the higher you are on the list. I mean I have a brand new nephew and I think I've held him for a total of 10 minutes. I've been avoiding children (and certain adults) like the plague. Since when do I not like kids, seriously? I was once everyone's favorite aunt and now I'm avoiding them? That's not me, and yet it's been my attitude for a long time.
I have less generalized anxiety but have had a significant increase in panic attacks...I can't decide which is worse. I certainly hated being antsy and worried all the time. You know that feeling you get when you get pulled over? That's what its like all the time. So I don't miss that, obviously. But panic attacks are no picnic. In truth they're terrifying. Most of the time I can get through them on my own but there are times when I feel so horrible that I can't believe I'm going to get through it. These are the ones that require a lot of xanax and knock me out. It's strange the kind of physical stress it puts your body through. And it seems like these are the ones that happen when I'm by myself and everyone else is at work and unavailable. I'm only going to call Joe at work bawling my eyes out so many times, my Mom stresses me out, and my sister(s) are at work. So I try to deal (save it Laura, I can only find so many people to hang out with during the day).
My last thing I'm going to complain about today is that I'm bored. So bored. Heinously bored. I'm not one to sit still (especially not right now!) but I'm out of ideas. I've been trying to read, started making jewelry, have been hitting the gym, and have been trying to get outside and take walks. My weekends are generally my best days. I've been seeing friends and family a lot more. But I've also lost interest in a lot of things - cooking, baking, writing to my Grandma, stuff like that. I need to figure out how to expand the number of things I can actually find joy in, because Joe coming home from work can't be the only thing I look forward to anymore.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Here's Sammy
Here's some pics of new baby Sam with his brothers, Jake (7) and Jonny (3 1/2):
The pictures don't even begin to do his fat lil cheeks justice! Jake and Jonny are both enjoying being big brothers - Jake insists on sleeping in Sam's room so he can help out in the morning and Jon actually stole Sam from his crib and carried him to the living room to hang out with him (in the very early am, when everyone was sleeping). His parents had a minor heart attack at this, but it turned out that Jonny navigated the stairs well with a newborn - Sam didn't seem to mind at all and is completely unscathed. Still, his parents have made sure he won't do it again.
Sam is now 10 lbs 6 oz. He is getting longer and his head is getting bigger, so his chubby cheeks are thinning out a bit. When he was first born it seemed like his cheeks were actually preventing him from opening his eyes, but he's opening them a lot more now. Sara is also doing well - she looks fantastic, although sleep deprived. :)
Sam is now 10 lbs 6 oz. He is getting longer and his head is getting bigger, so his chubby cheeks are thinning out a bit. When he was first born it seemed like his cheeks were actually preventing him from opening his eyes, but he's opening them a lot more now. Sara is also doing well - she looks fantastic, although sleep deprived. :)
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
nobody panic!
Except for me maybe? :)
My sense of humor seems to be in good form today, which is nice. I've spent days at a time in the last couple months without so much as a chuckle. I think I'll watch a comedy this afternoon.
What's happening:
-Our new nephew, Sam, is huge! He's got the cutest, fattest cheeks I've ever seen on a baby. He looks a lot like his brothers did at birth, just bigger. He's a cute little chunker. His two big brothers are very involved. Jake (7) actually sleeps in Sam's room so he can "help out." I don't think an atomic bomb could wake Jake up in the middle of the night, but it's a nice gesture. And he does help out in the mornings according to his Mom.
-My teeth have finally stopped hurting from the work I had done about three weeks ago...hooray for chewing! But I go back for more the week after next...eye yi yi!
-I actually went to the gym on yesterday, and then again today. Surprisingly, I'm enjoying it...so weird for me. I've discovered that if you read while you're on the treadmill or stationary bike that time just flies, so I've been checking out the chick magazines they have there. My concentration still isn't the best, but I can usually get through a couple pages about lipstick or fashion or face cream. I couldn't care less about any of these issues, but it does the job. I hit the pool today, but it turns out I can't swim freestyle in a straight line anymore! I don't like backstroke, have never properly coordinated my breaststroke, and will never have the abs for butterfly. So I tread water for a while and called it good.
-We had corned beef and cabbage at my Dad's house last night. It. Was. Awesome. I like visiting my Dad, but Joe had to push me out the door last night. We got into a discussion about my health. My Dad is a smart guy and is very science-y, but he absolutely positively does not understand mental illness. He doesn't get why I can't just will myself better, no matter how much I try to explain the chemical/physiological side of it all. I know it's how he expresses concern, but it's frustrating. Joe very smoothly geared us up to leave before I got upset.
-Our former landlords are trying to keep over half of our security deposit, so we're disputing that. Unfortunately for them they waited too long to give us our list of "damages" so they have to give it all back no matter what. Our settlement statement is dated 2/26 but was postmarked 3/12, which is more than beyond the 30 days they have to send us all this stuff. So they've essentially screwed themselves. We could have spray painted the walls and they'd STILL have to give it back to us. Even better, if they don't give it back to us we can take them to small claims court for double the amount. I'm a little surprised at their ignorance of these laws, but I suppose a lot of tenants don't dispute stuff like this so it's easy money for the landlords. Sad. I get all fired up about this kind of stuff (which isn't actually good, currently) and I'm going to the post office later to send them our dispute via certified mail. I love being right.
-Hmm. I'm not sure I have much else right now? We'll try tomorrow.
My sense of humor seems to be in good form today, which is nice. I've spent days at a time in the last couple months without so much as a chuckle. I think I'll watch a comedy this afternoon.
What's happening:
-Our new nephew, Sam, is huge! He's got the cutest, fattest cheeks I've ever seen on a baby. He looks a lot like his brothers did at birth, just bigger. He's a cute little chunker. His two big brothers are very involved. Jake (7) actually sleeps in Sam's room so he can "help out." I don't think an atomic bomb could wake Jake up in the middle of the night, but it's a nice gesture. And he does help out in the mornings according to his Mom.
-My teeth have finally stopped hurting from the work I had done about three weeks ago...hooray for chewing! But I go back for more the week after next...eye yi yi!
-I actually went to the gym on yesterday, and then again today. Surprisingly, I'm enjoying it...so weird for me. I've discovered that if you read while you're on the treadmill or stationary bike that time just flies, so I've been checking out the chick magazines they have there. My concentration still isn't the best, but I can usually get through a couple pages about lipstick or fashion or face cream. I couldn't care less about any of these issues, but it does the job. I hit the pool today, but it turns out I can't swim freestyle in a straight line anymore! I don't like backstroke, have never properly coordinated my breaststroke, and will never have the abs for butterfly. So I tread water for a while and called it good.
-We had corned beef and cabbage at my Dad's house last night. It. Was. Awesome. I like visiting my Dad, but Joe had to push me out the door last night. We got into a discussion about my health. My Dad is a smart guy and is very science-y, but he absolutely positively does not understand mental illness. He doesn't get why I can't just will myself better, no matter how much I try to explain the chemical/physiological side of it all. I know it's how he expresses concern, but it's frustrating. Joe very smoothly geared us up to leave before I got upset.
-Our former landlords are trying to keep over half of our security deposit, so we're disputing that. Unfortunately for them they waited too long to give us our list of "damages" so they have to give it all back no matter what. Our settlement statement is dated 2/26 but was postmarked 3/12, which is more than beyond the 30 days they have to send us all this stuff. So they've essentially screwed themselves. We could have spray painted the walls and they'd STILL have to give it back to us. Even better, if they don't give it back to us we can take them to small claims court for double the amount. I'm a little surprised at their ignorance of these laws, but I suppose a lot of tenants don't dispute stuff like this so it's easy money for the landlords. Sad. I get all fired up about this kind of stuff (which isn't actually good, currently) and I'm going to the post office later to send them our dispute via certified mail. I love being right.
-Hmm. I'm not sure I have much else right now? We'll try tomorrow.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Update
All in all, this has been a pretty tolerable week...except for Tuesday:
On Tuesday, my PCP called and informed me that my pap smear was abnormal, so I've got to see a GYN on April 10th. The cells were positive for HPV, which I was a little taken aback by...actually, I was pissed (currently my most visited emotion). Never at Joe, just pissed...who knows when I was exposed to it, that's life. I called my sister and talked to her about it and felt better after word. I was totally freaked out at first, but I've discovered it's not worth it to be worried. The whole reason women have yearly paps is to catch stuff like this. On the 10th I guess we're testing to see what strains are there and then we treat from there. I'm starting the Gardasil series on the 1st, which I'm a little puzzled about. I'm going to trust my docs on this one.
I also saw my therapist and I'm always uneasy after that, but we established goals and a treatment plan. So that's good. After therapy I went to get my haircut. As she was starting the cut (she'd just made her first cut - 5 inches off the bottom) my psychiatrist's office called and said they'd had a cancellation and wanted me to come in....so Steph had to power cut my hair so I could get the the doc on time. It looked like total shit when I left the salon, as it was soaking wet and as it dried it got all puffy.
I was a mess at the psychiatrist's office. Rather than being relieved about getting in to see her, I was oddly nervous. I was either going to panic at any moment or I was tinkering on hypomania. I was scared about the inevitable medication adjustment - I can deal with my current side effects, but I am worried what different meds will bring. I was worried she'd put me on a benzo on a regular basis (instead of PRN), which I don't want because the risk of dependency is sooooo high. To say I was agitated is the understatement of the year. You could argue I shouldn't have been driving, both to and from her office. She decided to increase my anti-depressant and told me it was probably going to make me have more panic attacks before it levels out, which takes 6 weeks. Fan-fucking-tastic (excuse the language, I'm venting).
I disagree with her medication adjustment. I'm definitely still depressed, but the depression isn't currently ruling my life. Sure, it makes me feel like shit most of the time, but it's not TOTAL shit so I can handle it. It's the anxiety, irritability, agitation, inability to focus....my memory has gotten so bad that sometimes when I'm typing I forget what word I'm supposed to be spelling. I can't finish a task, I get so distracted that I'll be on the computer and suddenly have 1o tabs open in Mozilla, all of which are different subjects I suddenly NEED to look into. One could argue that these are all symptoms of depression, but since I feel like I've had 5 cups of coffee and can't keep up with my thoughts I would argue otherwise. Then I crash. I'm afraid the anti-depressant will make this worse.
But I didn't go to medical school so it's ultimately not my decision. As they say, the doctor that treats thine self treats a fool. So we start another 6 week trial and error process. I'm off for another month from work. The extra meds are giving me headaches, but they're manageable. I'm having some issues with the amount of medication I have to take (which is common) but I still take it all (perhaps no so common in BP patients). Mostly I'm bored, so I'm trying to find a hobby. I'm trying to be positive about getting better. I'm doing the right things and eventually the combo will work. Next week I'm going to try try try to start getting out of the house everyday and going to the "W" (community center) to start getting some regular exercise. I'm reading (slowly) a book on managing bipolar disorder. We're working on my anger in therapy. I'm trying to get into the habit of charting my moods. I'm trying, I want to get better, and I will. But I think my Tuesday could have knocked anyone on their ass.
Now, the good stuff!!!
Our newest nephew, Samuel David, has arrived!
He was born on March 13th at 4:38 pm via C-section.
He's 10 lbs 4 ounces, 21 inches long.
The doc barely got the word c-section out before Sam's Mom was signing the consent...they knew he was going to be a bog boy :)
We haven't been to see him since Joe's sick and I don't want to carry his bug into the OB unit, but we'll visit him at home later this week. I'll put some pictures up when I get some.
We now have 10 nephews, 2 nieces, and another niece on the way. Our siblings have been busy over the last 16 years :)
Joe's boss put in his notice on Friday, so Joe's job description changed quite a bit, as did his salary. He's been working his butt off and is getting recognized for it. I'm very proud of him!
Our claim for the car (I was in an accident a few weeks ago) is going to be covered under our broadform policy. Hooray for no deductibles!
It looks like we are going to be stuck up here for a couple few more months, but there are definitely some positives to this: I will probably be able to go to Kristy's bridal shower, we'll be able to spend more time with our families before we move so far away, and we'll be able to save more money while our rent is so cheap. Actually using our savings account makes me happy.
My hair, while looking horrible when I left the salon, actually turned out really well. I'm enjoying it.
So yeah, minus Tuesday, not a bad week. Perhaps this coming week will be even better!
On Tuesday, my PCP called and informed me that my pap smear was abnormal, so I've got to see a GYN on April 10th. The cells were positive for HPV, which I was a little taken aback by...actually, I was pissed (currently my most visited emotion). Never at Joe, just pissed...who knows when I was exposed to it, that's life. I called my sister and talked to her about it and felt better after word. I was totally freaked out at first, but I've discovered it's not worth it to be worried. The whole reason women have yearly paps is to catch stuff like this. On the 10th I guess we're testing to see what strains are there and then we treat from there. I'm starting the Gardasil series on the 1st, which I'm a little puzzled about. I'm going to trust my docs on this one.
I also saw my therapist and I'm always uneasy after that, but we established goals and a treatment plan. So that's good. After therapy I went to get my haircut. As she was starting the cut (she'd just made her first cut - 5 inches off the bottom) my psychiatrist's office called and said they'd had a cancellation and wanted me to come in....so Steph had to power cut my hair so I could get the the doc on time. It looked like total shit when I left the salon, as it was soaking wet and as it dried it got all puffy.
I was a mess at the psychiatrist's office. Rather than being relieved about getting in to see her, I was oddly nervous. I was either going to panic at any moment or I was tinkering on hypomania. I was scared about the inevitable medication adjustment - I can deal with my current side effects, but I am worried what different meds will bring. I was worried she'd put me on a benzo on a regular basis (instead of PRN), which I don't want because the risk of dependency is sooooo high. To say I was agitated is the understatement of the year. You could argue I shouldn't have been driving, both to and from her office. She decided to increase my anti-depressant and told me it was probably going to make me have more panic attacks before it levels out, which takes 6 weeks. Fan-fucking-tastic (excuse the language, I'm venting).
I disagree with her medication adjustment. I'm definitely still depressed, but the depression isn't currently ruling my life. Sure, it makes me feel like shit most of the time, but it's not TOTAL shit so I can handle it. It's the anxiety, irritability, agitation, inability to focus....my memory has gotten so bad that sometimes when I'm typing I forget what word I'm supposed to be spelling. I can't finish a task, I get so distracted that I'll be on the computer and suddenly have 1o tabs open in Mozilla, all of which are different subjects I suddenly NEED to look into. One could argue that these are all symptoms of depression, but since I feel like I've had 5 cups of coffee and can't keep up with my thoughts I would argue otherwise. Then I crash. I'm afraid the anti-depressant will make this worse.
But I didn't go to medical school so it's ultimately not my decision. As they say, the doctor that treats thine self treats a fool. So we start another 6 week trial and error process. I'm off for another month from work. The extra meds are giving me headaches, but they're manageable. I'm having some issues with the amount of medication I have to take (which is common) but I still take it all (perhaps no so common in BP patients). Mostly I'm bored, so I'm trying to find a hobby. I'm trying to be positive about getting better. I'm doing the right things and eventually the combo will work. Next week I'm going to try try try to start getting out of the house everyday and going to the "W" (community center) to start getting some regular exercise. I'm reading (slowly) a book on managing bipolar disorder. We're working on my anger in therapy. I'm trying to get into the habit of charting my moods. I'm trying, I want to get better, and I will. But I think my Tuesday could have knocked anyone on their ass.
Now, the good stuff!!!
Our newest nephew, Samuel David, has arrived!
He was born on March 13th at 4:38 pm via C-section.
He's 10 lbs 4 ounces, 21 inches long.
The doc barely got the word c-section out before Sam's Mom was signing the consent...they knew he was going to be a bog boy :)
We haven't been to see him since Joe's sick and I don't want to carry his bug into the OB unit, but we'll visit him at home later this week. I'll put some pictures up when I get some.
We now have 10 nephews, 2 nieces, and another niece on the way. Our siblings have been busy over the last 16 years :)
Joe's boss put in his notice on Friday, so Joe's job description changed quite a bit, as did his salary. He's been working his butt off and is getting recognized for it. I'm very proud of him!
Our claim for the car (I was in an accident a few weeks ago) is going to be covered under our broadform policy. Hooray for no deductibles!
It looks like we are going to be stuck up here for a couple few more months, but there are definitely some positives to this: I will probably be able to go to Kristy's bridal shower, we'll be able to spend more time with our families before we move so far away, and we'll be able to save more money while our rent is so cheap. Actually using our savings account makes me happy.
My hair, while looking horrible when I left the salon, actually turned out really well. I'm enjoying it.
So yeah, minus Tuesday, not a bad week. Perhaps this coming week will be even better!
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