Memories of Beginnings

Just how did I meet my husband? I was clueless to his advances, despite his impressive skills at massage that he shared with me. So I remember well when I met him in my eyes. Not when I knew he had a Thing for me, just who he was. 

2010 Easter--not enough photos of both of us

Back in 2005 I was belly dancing, living on a good healthy diet, and walking everywhere on my college campus (which, admittedly, is small). So in short: I was built. I also was in a couple short acting skits that he was manning lights for. Cue the massages. In hindsight, a normal person would have taken this as being hit upon. Nope. Clueless. But I did look damn good in that cocktail dress I work for one of the skits.

One of my fellow actors invited us both to her house for a gathering which turned into more gatherings and a steady helping of bad movies, good company...and more of those sweet sweet massages.

But I was STILL clueless.

He asked me out once, but I turned him down as I was more focused on classes that were kicking my butt. (Calculus, I'm looking at you.) So we continued the gatherings and, unbeknownst to me, basically started going out with him on accident. Our first 'date' was actually instigated by one of the hosts of the gatherings much later on. At that point I realized that, no really, I was in a Relationship. Which confused me to no end since I never saw it coming. To be exact, I had never really been in a dedicated relationship before, so it was all new territory.

I have turned down quite a few people because I was an incorrigible flirt and had no intention of following through on the flirting. That is just how my friends and I played together. I still don't notice romantic/um...athletic attention, nor do I seek it out. I am quite happy to be a dog mom and ruler of my domain with no intention of changing that fact. Luckily my family is not pushing me to get married again or start up a relationship. They're fine with me as I am. 

But one thing I do miss is being more...I don't know...desirable? Yet I don't want the long-term attention, just a little encouragement that I have some attraction from the world. A push to my self-esteem as it were. And that is one reason that I am trying so hard, and sometimes stalling, at working toward a healthier me. Will I ever be in the shape I was when I was rock climbing, walking, belly dancing, and lifting weights? HAH! Nope. That's just too damn much work. But I want to see what I can do with what spoons I have. The gym workouts are happening. The damnable tendon damage and muscle use kicks in 48 hours post-exercising, but it will be worth it if it makes me stronger, more flexible, and--as a side effect--more toned. I want this for me, but there is that part of my mind that really wants it for, lets face it, attention. And I think that's perfectly fine so long as the other reasons come first.

When Life Breaks, Fix It!

I fancy myself a little bit of a Jill-of-All-Trades. Plumbing is not one of those trades. Yesterday I found myself washing dishes and heard the distressing sound of water falling On things rather than Through pipes. What I saw when I opened the door was a soaked cabinet with almost all of its contents drenched. Now, it being a sink cabinet, hardly anything minded being doused, and a good half of it was nestled safely in the languishing dish rack I keep down there and not on the soaked cabinet floor. But I’m still on crutch/es and a big ol’ boot that restricts my movement and grace (what I have, that is). So, I emptied the cabinet and made sure everything was either wiped down or where it could dry before assessing the situation. There was evidence of where my lone mouse had set up shop many years ago along with a small trail of ants that had managed to survive the great culling from earlier this year. I didn’t clean the base of the cabinet because I was just out of spoons and my knees were killing me.

Lo and behold, the elbow pipe that connected to the sink drain had come loose.

Now I’m NOT a plumber. I can do some basics, but PVC piping is not one of them. Not a smidge. So, I put out a call on Facebook in distress on how to fix this when it was a Sunday, and no hardware stores were open. As it turned out, my loving brother-of-awesomeness helped me through the (two minute) fix. That was it. Two minutes. Maybe three if you count the creaking and cussing of me trying to get down to the sink level and back up again. And now everything is drying out completely for the next couple weekends before I jump the gun and end up with mold in there from putting things back on damp wood. No thank you. At least it was not a long-term leak with mold galore down there. I’ve had that happen in other houses and, man, is that a mess. And that was my plumbing crisis, lots of cussing and fretting all for a quick fix. I’ll take it.

And then there was the rest of the weekend, and fallout from the brain rollercoaster and body twisting while dealing with the sink.

I can get dumb and destructive. I stress. I hurt. I eat. Add in some sleepiness without tiredness and you have a masterclass recipe for self-destructive behavior. Such things as eating too much and sleeping too much or too little—or in my case going to bed way too late and waking up too late despite needing a regular schedule to stay something approaching sane. Heck, I threw caution to the wind and decided that it would be a good idea last week to just use the damnable CAM boot alone with no crutch at all for a day. Dumb AND destructive. I wondered why last Friday I still hurt when putting full pressure on the foot instead of blaming the sheer stupidity and lack of following directions. I focused on being good this weekend after that brief foray into dumb, with the exception of an unplanned house repair job. And it has been this way for a while.

But the rest of the ingredients from that recipe are still there and making life difficult for focusing on anything. Like I have probably said before, there is only so much willpower available for one person. When there is too much there to deal with, something—and probably several things—has to give. In this case it is eating (and general use, but that is a given with me as the first thing to go).

As some of you know, I’m following a keto diet and its been good for me and my health when I actually follow it, if nothing else than it keeps me out of the sweet treats. Yes, I know the drawbacks, and yes, I am willing to deal with them and stay with this long term. When I am at least staying on track carb-wise I don’t gain weight. I may not lose, but I don’t gain like I did earlier in the year and then have to take it all back off.  And I know how to do this. I stopped tracking what I ate a month ago. I didn’t always religiously track (though it does work better if I do), just so I could look back on earlier in the day and realize that I had in fact had enough food. I think it is time to get on that tracking train again since this stagnation is getting old. But I have been staying on the low carb aspect pretty darn well while not neglecting good things like veggies and fruits. And that is fine, but I am eating far too much. Only I can do something about that. I’m not sure I’m ready to act because I’m not sure I have the energy to do much more than make a valiant week-long effort followed by a spectacular and disheartening defeat. Been there. Done that. And right now I’m just holding on. 

I did a good thing for myself and went ahead with my platelet donation today at the cost of not being able to use one crutch—but I always feel better mentally afterward. (Call it a form of unintended self-sabotage as well.) And I just need to hold on for four days. Then a vacation starts that will hopefully be low-stress and easy on both the budget and waistline. Both things will require that oh-so-precious willpower and that may or may not break the spoon bank. Especially when physically taxed and already going into this mentally taxed. We shall see. Wish me luck!

Thinkin' Drinkin' (Tea) AKA More Memories

I have been doing some thinkin' drinkin' in the form of copious amounts of tea, hoping that the caffeine will keep me running smoothly. Which it mostly is. I do keep the purveyors of my addiction running with my support!

Volunteer Hollyhock

While contemplating the bottom of my mug and listening to the sounds of my tea kettle I mulled over the feelings I am getting from using the crutches that have mostly sat ignored in my shop since back in 2014ish. They only have had short one or two day stints out of their place. But they're there for when I need them. So why is this part of the thinkin' drinkin'? Because Jason was the one that convinced me to finally give in and admit that using two canes and ending up on the ground was just not acceptable anymore. Way back in 2010 (I had to look back to find out when it was) I was pretty much on them 24/7 except for short jaunts around the house. Every day. For three + years. I was darned and determined that I didn't want anything unless it was quiet and easy to use. It took him researching and me evaluating many different styles and we finally settled on one brand (SideStix for the record). Not cheap, but comfortable to use, durable, QUIET, and stylish to boot. 

And now they remind me of him. Why do simple sticks remind me so much of my late husband? They are just tools. Very useful and comfortable tools, mind you, but still tools. The answer: because I remember how long he researched what I needed, even when I didn't want to admit that I needed them. (It was that or a wheelchair, which I had already vetoed as much as possible because I couldn't get around the house in one)

So now I am dealing with a torrent of emotions from many different angles. And fighting a boot. And remembering just how many muscles crutches require--and how neglected my muscles have been as of late. I apparently have not forgotten how to walk with them, even after all these years. And they're not the blasted 'regular' crutches that people get here in the states, despite them being less stable and clunkier than anything else out there. I learned early on that the doc's 'suggestion' that I use and stay on crutches was well founded. I asked for more clarification while getting strapped into the device and he told me that, while I technically can walk on just the foot, it is a pointedly bad idea and would probably cause more problems to both sides of my body. Use the crutches. Keep it up. Heal better. Have to do it less in the future if it happens again. I like my doc. I can follow orders if it means that I don't have to do this again any time soon (or preferably ever!).

And I've got another week and a smidge in the boot and another two weeks using one or both crutches for another two weeks. I wonder how well Link will walk with me on crutches...he used to do it well. It will be interesting to find out! And by the end of it we both will come to an agreement. Not sure who will win out in this, but it will be attempted!

Boot. Not appreciated.

I hate going shoe shopping. Usually it involves great frustration and a large chunk of change. Not lately. I've been in a couple pairs of hiking boots and special insoles for the past...many many moons. I have been having trouble with my foot for a long time. It wasn't getting better with all the doc's suggestions. So I went back, complete with new x-rays. I have a ton of small fractures in three metatarsals. His suggestion: a boot for 14 days. I am not amused. But it does keep my foot from flexing as painfully. At least it is on my left foot so I can still drive! I asked since I had a cane if that would help with my balance on the blasted boot. Doc said yes, so one of my beloved/hated devices is getting some use. And it's only two weeks.

Just after those two weeks I have a vacation planned. A vacation where I was hoping that I could get out and go hiking, since there are lots of nearby trails, both hard and easy. I may still do one of the easy one for short hikes to get me back into moving and to get the dog tired a bit. Probably not a good idea. So it goes. I may end up eating my way through the town. Not good for my figure.

Not. Amused

On that, I have gained ten pounds over the last three months and I am not amused. I am the only one to blame, but I am getting depressed because of that and a host of other happenings. I tried to blame my feet on my weight, but the doc reminded me that I have gotten this AFTER I lost a bunch of weight. Yes, it can be made worse with extra weight, but that is not a likely cause. The RA is (and some congenital issues). The gift that keeps on giving. 

And to add to the fun, I am losing my Medicaid. This is a problem. I cannot afford my meds and specialists on other plans. The state flubbed a calculation, so there is a hope for me. I re-applied today. My current coverage ends the 31st. They said that it can take 45 days to get back to me. This is not ideal. Not ideal at all. So I have done what I can. I am in a waiting period where all I can do now is fret and stew. Same with the foot. Fret, stew, and cuss. Other things, fret, stew, cuss, and cry.

So now I am rather insane. I have done what I can to rectify situations I have control over. Other things just...suck. I'm crying again for small infractions. Including in the doc's office, which completely confused the doc and PA in the room. Wonderful PA grabbed me a tissue and assured me that it was okay. I need to remind myself that it is okay for me to deal with emotions, whatever those are. 

So now I am going to let the world go by and play some Zelda--Tears of the Kingdom on the big screen. Putting cartoon Link always makes me feel better...well...unless I am repeatedly getting slain.

Leaking at the Seams

I'm like a leaky bucket. My brains keep leaking out while stress keeps pouring in. I normally keep work out of this, but let me just say that, as a non-profit worker in administration the end of the year brings LOTS of tax work. And our main event for the year is in March, so about the time the taxes calm down, the advertising and people wrangling ramps up. 

In short: I'm so ready for the vacation I have scheduled for April.

Wrangling two customer service organizations, a handyman, and emergency computer support is slowly unraveling my brain. But it's the end of my workweek, and boy am I ready for a break. Last week? Silence and not much work. This week? Yeesh. But I do need to feel needed from day to day. And I am.

A Good Thing I noticed recently is that I can drive into tight-ish parking spots and manage to wriggle out without endangering other cars! This is an awesome development!  On that good news, despite sabotaging myself food wise and only sporadically walking, I managed to lose weight over this week. Maybe paying less attention to what I am eating can cause acceptable results. This is counter to my wiring of tracking everything during the day. Now I know I have a little wiggle room and still can have the desired results. I like that.

This is the pup pre-winter

The dog is still healing, but he wants to play tug sooo bad. That is one thing that he may no longer be able to do. I need to call the vet tomorrow and give her an update on his condition. He even isn't being overly sore when getting up from a dead sleep and he is managing stairs as well as he was pre-injury (read: gimpily because of lack of ligaments in his back legs.). Looks like he may be able to jump onto Dad's lap sometime in the near future. Dog and Dad are in a game of seeing who can block/bypass an attempted leap onto the chair. Dog still hasn't figured out that it isn't allowed because he occasionally wins the game and ends up with a lap. Variable wins equal good conditioning.

But now I think I have other things to do, much as I would rather just sit and slouch. But I'll do the necessary thing.

Another New Beginning

Holy Crap. My Boss Cares.

Yesterday I decided that I was going to get back on the journey to get healthier. I packed a healthy lunch and avoided the loved/dreaded on-campus lunch (flame-grilled giant hamburgers and cake to be exact). Shortly after lunch--and an exploding printer ink cartridge--my boss talked to me and somehow managed to bring up the topic of health very, very gently. It is pretty darn obvious that I have gained 50 pounds over the last six months after slowly shrinking for over a year. He asked if I had been getting sleep (still tired from COVID, so yes), mental rest (yes, I am good at that when anxiety isn't interfering), and snuck in a question about if I had seen a nutritionist (ding ding! There it goes!). Now, I somehow didn't get offended. It felt like concern rather than chiding. Yes, I am getting paid for a transaction of service, but he was honestly concerned for my wellbeing.

So. Yeah. I was glad that I already had started my new endeavor or I probably would have shut down and been an anxious and teary mess. But he knew that I had started, so he may have found an in for the conversation. As it was, I just felt...cared for? Yeah, that's the best word I can come up with.

In other news: Soaking Rain. It has pretty much stopped now, but we had a soaking rain overnight that was slow enough to not trigger flash floods or slides in the burn scars around the state. And it's only supposed to reach 75 today. A far cry from the 100s a week and a half ago! Welcome, monsoon! Please stick around and fill the soil and reservoirs, please. It does mean that I got to dig out a shirt that I only got to wear a couple times earlier in the year before the weather got too hot. It is snug now (*sigh*) but still fits and is cute. It's also warmer than my sleeveless dresses that I usually wear over my basic pants--wind means I don't wear them alone...and my blindingly white legs that nobody wants to see, including me.

Sleepy Snuggles from Over the Weekend

The dog is going into withdrawal since Dad left the state on another jaunt. REALLY clingy. I even let him up on my lap yesterday since he was so attached to me and needy. He also was pretty sore, despite wanting to play tug. So I gave him pain meds and let him snooze on my chest. And snore. Good Lord, the snores. But after that he was quite happy to lay on his own couch and snooze/snore and rumble Mom's chair, so I must have fulfilled his need for touch. And it was nice for me as well.

RAIN! DIRT!

Summer in the desert: Hot. Windy. Dry…And wet?

In short: Fires. Yup. The state is on fire, mostly thanks to the local Forest Service’s incompetence and mismanagement. But that is a rant for another day. But that does mean hefty smoke in some areas and a giant hope that monsoon season shows up soon. And it is supposed to—this weekend in fact. Even if I have to wipe off muddy paws, I’m happy to do it, and maybe even frolic in the drips if I get the urge (though probably not nekkid). It can’t come too soon for my liking.

Yesterday at work I got to play in DIRT! Yes, you read that right. I got to take care of our much-neglected houseplants, including my poor hibiscus that needed over half the bag of dirt to get it back up to where it needed to be. That bush (tree?) is my baby. It is the reason I have the small cozy office instead of the huge sterile one. That and the prolific philodendron keep me company in my cave.

In other news, I have mostly recovered from COVID-19. Just some slight taste changes, more joint pain, and a pretty hefty dose of fatigue. I escaped pretty darn well compared to others. Working is difficult for the last half of the day. I had to take my 15 minute break yesterday afternoon for a (alarm set) nap. I can’t wait for that to get better, though with how much I need naps in general I am not sure how long that is going to take. But breaks are awesome and I can get in 10 minutes of sleep out of those 15 and that is enough to tide me over till I get back to the house. Dear naps: I love you. Be patient with me.

Trepidation

I have two things happening over the next week that have me freaking out majorly, like, panic attack freak. The first is that I am braving the cold with my mother to drive up to my grandparents. They are...difficult. To say the least. But at 87 and 90 they are pretty set in their ways at this point. We don't share much along the lines of politics and (unbeknownst to them) religion. I love them dearly, but I dread spending more than a day with them because lots of feelings get hurt on all sides and snide comments attack both Mom and me on a regular basis. But I love them and it means that I can keep them from trying to drive 800 miles down to see us here and kill themselves or someone else on their way (reference ages and add frail health).

Number two is self-inflicted with the idea to help both my mother and myself and scares the living crap out of me. That would be endeavoring on a ketogenic diet (with mine as only a maybe since my meds may cause troubles with it), or something near it (if there are problems). Mom initiated this journey through prodding from her healthcare provider with a free keto monitoring and support package. I'm on board if it makes us healthy and helps out her at the same time, though without the strict medical guidance. I'm comfortable on my side since I am familiar with the diet from when I was helping Jason with the diet long ago. I did a modified version for me then. Dad's not really sure what he is in for, but we are going to try to make meals that we all can eat with modifications. It's going to be difficult with all the added pitfalls around the house like dried fruit and candy around. Heck. The bread. The blasted real bread is going to be my downfall if I am not careful. I'm planning on picking up some of the fake keto stuff just to keep myself sane. And then there's cereal that will be back in the house. Those two things, bread and cereal, are the bane of my dietary health. Going low-carb should put a damper on many of the things I would normally nosh on.

So I'm a little over my head on the keto thing and I'm not sure how long either of us are going to last. When one of us falls, the other is likely to crumble. With our stubbornness we are likely to prod each other into keeping at it for at least a while. I am hoping that, after the initial withdrawal, things go smoothly without too many slip-ups. I am going to miss the cinnamon rolls and fresh treats terribly. She can't have fake sugars, but doesn't usually crave sweets so she should be fine on that route. Me? I'm going to be relying on some extra supermarket help for my sanity. I'm going to keep it real food, but I need my sweet tooth cradled from time to time. Yeah, yeah, I know that having fake-sweetened food is supposedly a bad idea, but I am going to need it, especially at first.

So there you have it: TLDR: Going to visit cranky grandparents (with Mom). Starting a new diet (with Mom).

How Many Changes Can I Cram Into One Week?

Let's see here, there's the new meds, there's the rug-pulling sugar cut, there's the hiking (in the mud I think). And hopefully sleep. The combo of meds and sugar-cutting should make for some interesting side-effects, but probably good for me in the long run. I know that the first day is the move-in day. Days 2-5 are all good things. Days 6 and 7 are worrying about going back to civilization. Day 8 is saying goodbye and all the depression that comes with it.

I have all my meals and snacks planned out as well as the hikes I would like to take and may or may not depending on situations out of my control. I am not taking sweets or ways to cook said sweets. I am even checking out a strange concoction called keto ketchup to see if I can save some sugar there as well since one of the nights is a hamburger patty. This diet isn't going to hold up at the parental units' house and is far from low-carb, just low-sugar, but I can at least follow it at my house when away from the landmine field of goodies.

And then there's mud. We got 6 inches of snow in the city, though it all was melted by the end of the day. I am not sure if I will be fighting the remnants of the white stuff on my hikes, especially since there is supposed to be a little more moisture later in the week. One thing to consider is that there are supposed to be highs of 70. If I am going to go on a long hike it is going to have to be on Sunday or Monday since there is more moisture predicted for the week after that. Even if I can't hike, I can still work on the last edit of my second book before I send it off for a full and paid edit. The ending needs work and it needs tightening up as well. Something to do when I am not outside enjoying the scenery!

I woke up several times last night to let the dog out since he had an upset tummy. Apparently those times interrupted my sleep enough that I was dead to the world in the morning. I woke up at my usual 6:45 and got ready for work, then realized that I couldn't drive to work safely. Had to call in and say that I would be in late because of it. Talk about embarrassing. 

Also got a chip in Loki's windshield. Right in front of the EyeSight lane-minder. That means whole new glass. At least after last time's replacement I lowered my deductible since that thing is ridiculously expensive. Some cars are chick magnets. Loki is a chip magnet.

Reasons to Be Thankful

Even When Life is Really Rocky

I'm struggling a little right now. For various reasons my brains are deciding that now is a good time to go off the deep end. I am hoping that I can hold it together through the next two weeks until my vacation kicks in. This week is work's St. Patrick's Day Celebration and it is the biggest (and only) event of the year. In addition to the event we also have a newsletter hitting doorstops this week as well to up the donations. 

I will survive. 

One method that I am thinking about using is severely limiting my sugar intake. Not keto, since that threw my body into all sorts of hell the month I was on it with Jason. Just cutting out the extra sweets and added sugars that seep into EVERYTHING. Fruit? Fine. Milk? Not so sure, but probably fine. Ketchup? Not without some serious changes. Luckily, it is easy to find acceptable foods labeled with the keto category. I still haven't decided on when to start this, but probably over vacation so the first week of sugar-withdrawal is under controlled conditions with limited access to extra sweets and pastries to undo my progress.

I may not thrive over the next two weeks, but I will survive this just like in past years. Also like in past years I have the annual I-am-done-with-this-shit vacation following the event. Due to unforeseen circumstances my last vacation will probably have to be either me taking my tent out for a week or just chilling at home. Either works well for me and is better for my pocketbook. 

Speaking of tents, the campgrounds are open for the year! I need to gear up everything and get it triaged for spur-of-the-moment trips out where work can't reach me. And so that I at least have bear spray with me this time. Just because that seems prudent now that I know there are brave bears in the area. I think I may have already lost my camp kitchen table before I even had a chance to use it! Bah! I don't want to spend an additional hundred bucks for something that I won't use often since I am usually in developed campgrounds. But it irks me that I would lose something so quickly. That is what I get for not coating the black case in reflective tape!

And now I am going to sit back and take stock of what I have to be thankful for instead of wallowing in my own self-pity. Wallowing does no one good. Maybe 5 minutes of walking will lead to more.

When Love Turned Violent

Februaries tend to be hard for me thanks to memories of Jason's last few months on this earth. One thing I haven't been able to understand was why he would hurt me, but no one else, as the steroids took over. I understand the anger, having been on high doses myself, but to have someone so gentle turn so different just makes my heart break to remember.

January was when it started, kicking at me from his wheelchair. At first I just thought it was a way for him to get my attention, but he still could easily talk at that point. Slapping my hand away was common too.

Now, let me be clear, none of this was very violent, just heartbreaking (and lots of bruised shins). There wasn't anything to be done about it at the time. Brain cancer and steroids do strange things to brilliant minds. For someone with a Masters degree in computer science to lose his calculating capabilities must have been truly devastating for him. To lose him slowly while he became less him was devastating for me. And it wasn't just me. My Mom and Dad on his side felt it as well, though differently I'm sure to lose their son.

Mid-February he started having serious hallucinations that someone was breaking into house. He couldn't really walk on his own at that point and he wouldn't believe me I had checked the back door for the third time that night. I told him I wasn't going help him check it out for himself. Then he took a swing at me. I dropped him out of my arms and stepped back, just staring in disbelief as he tried to get up. Eventually the steroid rage subsided and we both got back into bed, but I never saw him the same after that. That was the day before Valentine's day.

Oopsies

On the Road...Somewhat

Over the past month and a half I have managed to gain over 10 pounds. Nobody's fault but mine. I used the surgery as a reason to backslide, and boy have I ever. With the treadmill broken at the parental units' house (still have yet to repair/replace) and "winter", or as close to it as the high desert gets, I have been less than useful at getting in exercise there. At least my house one is in working condition. I even managed to use it while I was there over the weekend! Hey, some is better than none. Still not supposed to lift/tug more than 20 pounds which means that the dog is out of luck for walks since he pulls sometimes. Poor pooch likes his walks though, and really likes to play tug. He's out of luck for the next five weeks.

After a brief change of meds I am up and working reasonably well again. Managed to get a ton of things done at my house on Sunday. More than I had managed in the previous two months combined! Better living through chemistry. Now I'm back to being a slug after all the activity, but some use is better than none. I even found the surface of one of my catch-all tables! It never ceases to amaze me how much general junk gets dumped on that table. Or the sheer unbelievable amount of dog fur that accumulates around the house. Little tufts that roll like tumbleweeds along the corners of the wall. Three vacuum dumps later and I have a much cleaner house. I swear that I found a whole other dog's worth of fur. And the kitchen--I even cleaned the stove. Scary things happened on Sunday and I am happy with every one of them. Now if only I could bottle that energy for later use!

I had a little downtime last night and started to plot my next vacation. I found a cute little cabin near the mountains for hiking that won't break my bank. Only problem is that I am not sure when I will be able to get off from work to go gallivanting. It looks cute and is about half of what others would cost me, all because some of the nearby properties are a little rundown. That's fine with me. But we'll see when I can break free. At least not before the end of March. 

But now it is probably time for me to wind down my break and get back to work. After tea round three. I am getting in my caffeine today. Maybe that even means I will get in a walk to pick up meds from the Walgreen's nearby instead of waiting in line in the drivethrough.

The Curse of February

Has it hit? Yup. But this not-so-little dude helps. 

The job is in a holding pattern, which is good since the last two days of work (Wednesday and Thursday) were called on account of "snow", which is to say that there was a layer of ice on the roads and people here have bald tires and no clue how to drive in winter conditions. So I stayed put until it was safe to go home that Thursday evening. Nothing had frozen in the 7F nights, so all was well. Luckily, the heaters work well!

Then again, there is the funk that February and April (for some reason not March) bring. It hit early this year instead of mid-month like in past years. For some reason 2021 didn't happen. Well...2020 and 2021 just sort of existed as there was no sense of time. This year it is here, but being rapidly attacked by coping mechanisms. I am hoping that it is smooth sailing through March when my work project is through, otherwise my life becomes much more difficult. As it is, I'm having trouble thinking coherently and anticipating needs. And then there's food. All the food. It's my curse right now.

One good thing is that the doc ordered blood work that was useful. Low vitamin D and really low thyroid. Time to get to fix those things and maybe some of the giant cravings for all things munchable will go down. Heck, some of the mood might go up as well! As it is, I am up 11 pounds from where I was in December and just have given up. I keep starting out the day well and healthy and then descend into a food monster in the evening. I need a lock on the fridge and pantry! So part of my really wants to get back down and then the other part just...is tired.

And there you have it. The good, the bad, and the munchy. Here's to overcoming brainz.

The Hardest Decision of My Life

On this day, nine years ago, Jason and I made the hardest decision either of us would ever make--to end his cancer treatment and begin hospice care instead of curative care. At the time, we both knew the prognosis going into the doctor's office, though we hadn't officially received the bad news yet that his cancer had progressed irreversibly and quickly. I still remember going into the office, with him smiling and laughing, despite the seriousness of our visit. 

Were there tears? Oh yes. But we knew. And I certainly hope that I will never have to face another decision like that in the rest of my life. 

Every year this day is a hard for me. Days now through mid-April tend to be difficult as well, to various extents, but it seems to be getting easier with passing years with some being better than others. Last year? and 2020? Well, my brain had other things to worry about. Who knows about 2022.

 

One Last Flight 

So what's with the plane? In the last couple years of our journey we were able to get free flights from Angel Flight West from private pilots. This was our very last leg that we ever made .(The plane had a parachute!) We were so very lucky to have found this service. It was not only free, but it was also much safer for Jason than flying commercial airlines with his lowered immune system. I owe so much to these people who helped us over the years.

Stress is a *itch

Yup. It is amazing how much stress can do to a body.

I can haz snacks?

What I thought was an arthritis flare calmed down the day after the surgery, but let's face it, I was forced to take it easy and sleep a lot. It was a sort of restart for my body, despite the Swiss cheese of my innards. My brains still are adjusting and flip flopping between caring about everything and sheer apathy for all things. No real rhyme or reason, other than that I am healing and that takes energy.

Add in more stress and over the last three weeks I have gained almost ten pounds from sheer dealing with stress and only so much energy to spend on other things that Just Needed Done. Now I'm tracking the foods again and watching my portion sizes. The biggie is checking myself in the evening for mindless eating due to pain/sleepiness.

So I'm back at home and enjoying the TV under my control and quiet when I like it. Currently Battlebots. Dog is, of course, already in withdrawal from lack of Dad's lap and pouting on his couch. No constant touch all day and he has to *gasp* not play as much! Sweet sweet home ownership with no roommates (and now no lousy neighbors). Except the dog, who I can lock up in a kennel with a muzzle and nobody would call protective services. Not that I do, but I could. (Eh, he likes his kennel anyway).

With 60+ gallstones, some over .5 cm, gone from my body I don't have to worry about midnight wake-up calls of pain. So far no side effects, but I have been careful to keep it that way. Only four dots on my belly from surgery and those are healing nicely. One nice thing about having a female surgeon is that she specifically avoided the bra line in her incisions. Good doc. I'm keeping my fat down on food for a while, since apparently high fat meals (and caffeine) can cause some serious discomfort. Nothing like before, but still unpleasant. I'll behave momentarily. If I have to. I guess. Lots of cooking, which I like to do anyway.

And now I think it's time for some more tea--caffeine free, of course. But I miss my chai :(

Everything is FINE

And I'm FINE. The stresses that I have been shoving into a hole and standing on to keep them from escaping are slowly creeping out. I'd been really good about telling myself that everything is under control and all is well. It's FINE. I'm FINE. 

I'm not so fine.

But I'm not going off the deep end either, which is a testament to some of my coping mechanisms. I am, however, cracking around the proverbial edges. Stress can do some interesting things to a body. I'm really hoping that my arthritis is not coming back and that it is just a fluke that my joints are acting up. I don't want to go back on yet more pills. Self-destructive behavior is in full force. Heck, I ate exactly what I wanted yesterday--and ended up in the land of gallbladder hell for it. I've been and will eat all I want up through the surgery, gallbladder be damned. Not healthy, but so far I haven't gained weight. I will if I keep this up, but so far it is a wash. The recovery process should drop that calorie intake down but good.

Three days. I have more prep that needs done before this. Should be a quick recovery, so that is good, but I want to be prepared if it does take me a little longer to get up and running given how my body is acting right now.

I bought Animal Crossing since I have almost beaten Zelda. And now my hands don't want to work to play! At least I can type for now since it doesn't use my wrists as much. At least the downtime will give me time to edit my book. There may be a bunch of posts in my future. I apologize. Or maybe I don't. 

4 Steps to My Work in Progress

It was...a year. 2020 round two in many ways. But I did manage to pull some learning opportunities out of it. 

4. I can temper my emotions with questions and introspection to regulate my reactions. 

I'm officially better at letting certain topics (like politics and religion) run off my back if it is going to take too much more energy to contradict someone than to just take care of myself. There are only so many cares in a day and, as my great-great-grandmother used to say, "Convince a fool against his will and he'll remain of the same mind still." That doesn't mean that I can't hold a good conversation on these topics, it is just giving myself permission to not take (or dodge, if necessary) every bait dangled before me.

3. Inaction is still a reaction. 

I'm constantly drilling this into myself, but my most frequent reaction to problems is not to tear into one side or the other, but rather to sit on my hands and stare at both options until either, A: the problem passes, or B: something bad enough happens to get me to move one way or the other. Hopefully it isn't too late to salvage whatever choice I looked back on as 'correct'.

2. Blaming others, while easy, isn't always the answer.

Example: Eating healthily

I put the food in my mouth in the amounts that I choose. Nobody else. Yes, they have voices in what we eat for dinner, but ultimately it is my choice. No matter how much healthy food I buy on the weekend it is only as good as my will/won't  power. I have been looking all over for something or someone to blame for my most recent funk in healthy eating. Depression? Yes, but that goes both ways. (depressed so I eat lousily, which makes me depressed, etc.) Cycles are just that, cyclical. But there is a way to break that, or there often is. Mine? Surgery. No unhealthy eating for at least the next two weeks after the procedure and probably not a lot of junk for the next few months out from there. One circle-breaking event. And my choice chancing making myself miserable with my food choices up until the procedure, just to get it out of my craving system.

1. My mind. My body. My...work in progress

I'm constantly changing. Heck, we all are. It's part of being human. I'm getting a little better with my accountability as time goes on. Kicking and screaming, mind you, but better nonetheless. Up for 2022: accepting that no food is good or bad, but that they may have effects on my body that I would rather not deal with. Now I just need to learn to play for the long game on my exercise and eating so that I can make my joints happier!

Holidays and Long-Term Trauma

Holiday with the Family

It was 2012, Christmastime. Jason and I had just made the hardest decision of our lives: deciding to stop his treatment and begin hospice care. Knowing that it was his last holiday season we decided to see as much family as we could. We flew to out to see both my parents and my brother's family just before Christmas and had a nice visit (though I was sick as a dog when we were there). After that we made a quick hop over to the Mid-West for a visit of all of Jason's family who had assembled for the occasion. It was a homecoming of sorts, as I had first met all of my in-laws at a gathering in this same place in 2005. 

The hardest part of the visits was knowing that this was really a goodbye for Jason. There were no words to be said since nobody knew what to say in this instance other than, "I love you." And that was enough. To be there was the greatest gift, almost five years from his diagnosis, eight from when I had met all of his nice people who I call family. 

It was the time of me realizing how lucky were to have five years together, instead of 11 months. In that time he participated in 4 clinical trials (1 more that he tried but didn't qualify for) that helped the life expectancy of the disease go from that 11 months up to 15 months. It may not sound like much, but I like to think that his generosity (and let's face it, desperation) helped that to happen. Of course, he may have just been an outlier that messed up the curve!

So now when certain times of year crop up, like Christmas, I tend to have bouts of the black clouds in my mind. Some more than others, but this year hit stronger than 2020. Maybe I just had other things to focus on--thank you very much, COVID-19, for providing me a distraction. Or something. That five years was hard. Really hard. But it was worth it. Unfortunately, I was left with a few hiccups from the process. Eh, few, lots, same difference. Now they are cropping up when least (or most) expected.

And now I will focus on remembering the good times, like that Christmas as it really was a good holiday, despite the circumstances. When that doesn't work, I will cry, scream, or zone out at nothing at all until the feelings pass. Ya do what ya gotta do. 

Memories Lost

Easter, 2008 With My Man

I seem to be missing most of my memories from 2007/8 through 2018. There's a few lingering wisps of memories floating in my mind, and if someone brings them up I can sometimes locate the memories, but I can't bring them up on my own. They sort of swirl together with a few standouts as the exception. Granted, 2008 through 2013 was helping my husband, and 2013 through 2018 was dealing with serious cases of attack of the brainz, but I would like to be able to know what happened in my life! So I have been trying to nail down memories and, the much harder part, logging them with where they fall in time. Photos are helpful, but there just aren't that many during the early to middle part of that time. I can reference them easier in later years, but that is mostly a bunch of photos of Link, so that isn't much help.

In frustrating news:

One.

Pound.

That's all that separates me from the magical number of 200 pounds. *Breathe in* It's just a number. *Breathe out* It's just a number. A number of significance to me, apparently. I've been hovering at 201ish for the last week and a half and it is bugging the hell out of me! I've been exercising every day since the end of August and at least moderately watching the calories that go into my mouth. I even upped the intensity of the exercise! Maybe that's it. I may be gaining some muscle, so the scale isn't changing. Grr. 

I have been scouting around for new places to explore and have a few ideas for the coming weekends, all within 30 minutes from the house. Not much shade to be found on these adventures, but one of them has a chance to explore for fossils while hopping around on mostly-unmaintained gravel roads with Loki (the SUV). I am looking forward to that one! The other has a chance to see lots of birds and some shade on a longer hike. Plot plot plot...

On one last note: I'm all triple vaccinated (well, four if you count the flu shot)! Good to go for work and self/family protection. If you haven't gotten your jab, please do. Even if it isn't a 100% effective vaccine, it is a hell of a lot better than no protection at all for yourself and others around you.

Emerging from the Fire--A Little Lost

 

Life Thriving on the Destruction

Yup, that's a lava flow with a healthy population of plants that have taken root and made a place for themselves. I've had that destruction, that complete wiping away of what was. Yet, I am finding that year by year I am finding more of myself--more life, more of me, not just what had happened in the past. And it feels good. Confusing, not having a concrete goal in life and rather a nebulous 'do good work' type of thing. Not having an end point feels strange. When helping Jason along there were several end points that eventually all played out with his death. And with the Rheumatoid Arthritis the goal was always to get the stress low enough to find remission. That too happened. So I was left sort of drifting for many years. Volunteering helped, as did a few vacations to push me to move. With a job that I love and feel needed in, and more importantly that I am doing something good for other people, I am finding new purpose. New life. No. More life. 

I'm taking care of myself, exploring when I can, and in a brain space where I am *gasp* semi-to-mostly stable. And COVID-19 be damned, but I am living life. (I even have colored masks to run my errands--something else to make me happy.) I suppose that my hermit tendencies have served me well during lockdown on down to now. I am having to poke out of my hermitting to go see people again since there is no real reason not to anymore. Small steps.

So yeah, I'm emerging from the reset of the lava flow of life and taking hold where I can to bring about a new me. A better (?) me. Different. Yes. A different me.