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.

When Murphey Meets Plans

Road Trip!!!! (s) Last post was in April and I had a bunch of stuff happen that just sort of absorbed several months without me noticing. The biggest things were two trips up to South Dakota.

Four years ago my grandparents were in a pretty bad wreck and my grandmother never really bounced back from it. She has been in a slow decline since then. At first she was home, but kept fading. Then into a nursing facility where all they did was ignore her, despite supposed to be providing physical therapy. Grandpa moved into an assisted living apartment in town, thanks to Dad's help. (Dad has been up there for many months helping out--he has the patience of Job.) So Mom and I decided to go up and visit them over a long weekend. I can move a day around at work and mom can take a half day to make it a five-day trip without losing too much, if any, work. 14 hours on the road each way, but we pretty much have it down to a science: She drives at midnight when she gets off of work and I drive once the sun comes up and get us the rest of the way in. On the way home I just drive the whole way in. I don't mind driving at night, but one of my meds plays havoc with my alertness if I take it. On the way home I just move it out a bit. 

Morning Somewhere in Eastern Colorado

So the first visit went well. Got to see Grandma and Grandpa. She was in pretty rough shape and could barely move to a chair. Wasn't eating. Just was fading into the ether. Grandpa, of course, was worried as well. I understand that feeling. But we had to keep the visit short since we had to turn around and get back home.

A few weeks ago we made the trip again, expecting Grandma to be in the Apartment with Grandpa since she could walk a little better and get around with help. Weeeeeell...life intervened. The day before we got there Dad had wrist surgery, so he was feeling under the weather (but his hand was better than he had before the surgery!) Two days before we were set to go up she fell and broke both her hip and wrist. So we got to meet her at the hospital after she had her surgeries instead of at the apartment. Fun fun. And we all know what I think of hospitals at this point. I no longer dread going into them, it's just not pleasant.

Mom got to be with her partner-in-crime-brother for the weekend and got some time to just catch up. It was good for them since they only ever talk to each other every year or so. Not by conscious choice, just how it is. I am the same way with my brother for no good reason. Anyway, after a weekend of Grandpa trying to pick fights, which Mom and I artfully dodged, it was time to go home. He would rather leave mad than sad, and both Mom and I know how this works with him. Hence the dodging. Uneventful drive home.

Update to the drama, Grandma had gallbladder surgery so now she can actually eat! It is amazing what nutrition can do for your body. We can tell that she is doing a lot better since now she has the strength to give the nurses hell when they want her to do something. She's in an actual rehabilitation home where she is required to get up and move and do strengthening exercises for her hip and legs. She's being dragged kicking and screaming back to life. It's up to her whether she wants to work at it or fight and fade again. She's of an age where that is her choice at this point. Grandpa wants to live to an expiry date of 97. Not quite sure why, though that may be how long his father lived. Grandma has no set expiry date.

But on that note, I think I should leave it at that and make more updates later since this is already a novella.

A Degree in Doing Nothing

 I have a week-long course in doing nothing. And yet not.

This last week I have spent at a tiny casita in the middle of nowhere (well, at least a half hour from a gas station). I had been looking forward to this for months, especially due to work stress, and it finally came to pass. 

Preparation

Several weeks ago the corner of my car got swiped by a trailer that turned to tightly. I got it into the shop a couple weeks ago and they said that it would be done by last Friday. No word on Thursday so I called in. I got a call on Friday: It wouldn't be ready until the coming Tuesday. That would have meant that I had to take the dog in his cage in the rental car and would be traversing two-lane gravel "highways" in a Corolla. I had it all loaded up, resigned to my fate (oh woe is me. I still had a rental car thanks to insurance), when I got a call from the garage: Loki, the Forester, was done! I had never unloaded a vehicle so fast as that car. I zoomed over to pick up my car and dump that evil car. I then proceeded to load my car just as fast as I had unloaded the rental. I can pack fast when I know everything is assembled!

Once I got that stress taken care of my brain was reeling from adrenaline, even into the next couple days. Because of that I actually forgot several things from my house when I loaded up the next day, despite having a list of things to pack. One of those things? My jacket. Sitting right under where my purse sat so I "wouldn't be able to forget it." Yup. Same thing with some of my food. I packed plenty, but just barely. But town's only a half hour away.

Useless Time

Upon getting to the casita, the landlady met me at my car and gave me the lay of the land. Cute little place for cheap that takes dogs and isn't in a city or large town. Heck, I think there are twenty houses in this "town" and I can walk from one end to the other in a half hour at a leisurely stroll. I like it!

I thought about my trip and my brain convinced me that I had done nothing while on vacation. Then I scolded that same brain. I had gone up to the Gila Cliff Dwellings and hiked both that (without Link due to rules) and a second trail with the dog. The next day I made my way to The City of Rocks and crisscrossed those towers.

The City of Rocks with a Pooch

The next day I just walked the length of town, followed by a long (for me) hike. That one about did us in. I knew going into it that it was going to be at the long end of our capabilities. We got about a quarter mile from the midpoint and were still gaining altitude. Link was starting to slow, but that is normal once he gets all out of piss. After water for both of us I stood up. He sat on my feet. I tried to go up the hill...and he went back down. Well then. I got the hint that this was one large "NOPE" from the dog and we were not going to continue up the hill. He happily led the way back to the car and needed a ramp to get up, but that is nothing new. But we both got in a good hike. 

The Wrap-up

So I did nothing if "nothing" means spending money or eating out. I even managed to get in some history with the Cliff Dwellings! Nothing includes YouTube, journaling, cooking, yelling at the dog (who is getting over a hotspot on his leg that he just now is out of a cone for), and overall relaxing. And I think I am relaxed now. Only took many days achieve that! Not looking forward to heading back into work, but everything has to end eventually. Now to think about what the next vacation will be... plotplotplot...

Of Writing and Walking

I have been making it a point to write my grandparents every week, specifically for Grandpa. He doesn't hear well and being on the phone is frustrating for him. But letters? Letters he can re-read, and he does. He says he doesn't mind when I skip a week, but I know from when I do talk to him on the phone that it means a lot to him. It helps us both because I don't like to talk on the phone but like writing, and he can't hear on the phone. Wins on both fronts. I usually take one of my fifteen minute breaks during the week to scribble off a letter. This week I just needed to take that time to breathe and make a mug of tea. So, instead I waited until I got home and snagged one of my many cards. I have it in the mailbox, but I am expecting it to take forever for my mailman to discover it there. That is why I usually take the mail down to the mailbox. Which I will do if it is still there by tomorrow.

In other news, I have been making progress. From where I started two and a half years ago I have come a long way. For example, when I started I was barely able to walk at a pace of 2.5 mph. I soon went up to a 2.7 mph pace. Then 3. And stalled. I found out over the last two weeks that I actually have been improving without knowing it: I can hold a pace of 3.4 for quite a while. Outside? With the dog and on uneven ground I am back down to 2.7, but that's okay. I like not falling on my face. So progress. 

But I hadn't been exercising. Two weeks ago I was stuck where I was back at the beginning of the year. Not exercising. Eating...okay. Just okay, but not horribly. A year and a smidge ago I was exercising every day. That slid down to nothing under the excuse of my damnable plantar fasciitis. A good reason. For a while. Now that I realize it is just something I have to deal with, it is time to actually deal with it--carefully of course. I'm displeased at having to put up with it, but it is a heck of a lot better than where I was back when my rheumatoid arthritis was still interfering with life. I've been lucky to be in remission from that, so the worst I normally deal with are unhappy knees and a pissed off foot. I'll take that and run (walk) with it. Next up? Finding the weights for the weight machine AND using the machine. My arms are pretty much spaghetti at this point. Or I can buy more exercise bands (so they don't break on me at the worst time), which would probably work as well. I have even managed to get down to another smaller size over the last month--comfy jeans at that! Knees are gradually becoming less vocal the smaller I get too. I'll take what I can get.

This is what I bought myself to celebrate the jeans

Finally, I now have an air fryer. It worked well as a glorified small oven for my first explorations. (Brownies went well.) But then I tried chicken wings. Oh, lordy does it work well. I have had two days in a row of chicky wings while I try to tweak the recipe. Then devour the results. Mission successful. More research needed. And now, it is time to think about dessert that complements my dinner of crispy wings.

Balancing Act and Mr. Wile

Fearless Wile E. Coyote

Congratulations! It's February, and we made it through the first month of 2023. For me it lasted about twice as long as it should have, which isn't too bad compared to previous months. 

Let me introduce you to Mr. Wile E. Coyote who visited my parents' house this last week. While he looks small, he actually is a good 50% bigger than most of the coyotes in the area. This one looks like he had been transported from the East Mountains of the city. Highly healthy and fearless. He didn't even give me or the barking Link a passing glance as he walked five feet from the glass door on his way out of the yard. So now Link isn't allowed outside for long periods of time without supervision. So far the coyote has dragged a cat (parts of one) into the yard, so we know that he kills pets happily. Link in his slow state has little chance against Mr. Wile if it came down to a scuffle. I just hope that the coyote doesn't decide to kill the resident skunk (who comes almost daily to the yard) in the yard and leave a stench for years.

I'm not sure what February holds, but my goal is to have a healthy work/life balance. Which is hard for me. I am a people pleaser. And I have been so focused on work that I have been suffering mentally outside of the office. And that's no good for me, my friends, and even the office because that could lead me to burnout. Nobody wants me to fizzle. So I'm focusing on me a little more and what I need to do to keep me healthy.

That change of mindset includes walking most days and trying, TRYING, to eat reasonably (unlike last night). And that will help my mindset a bunch. At least I hope it will.

On the note of bettering myself, I managed a bunch of tasks yesterday and Thursday night. Cleaning up, organizing, throwing things away that nobody wants, giving away things that other people might want. And today I am dead. D.E.D. Dead. I'm not sure if the energy will hit me later today, but who knows. I hope I get enough mental/physical spoons to be able to get a walk in today. I am making it a priority, depending on spoons. I borrowed from today's stash to run my hamster wheel amount of activity yesterday. So we shall see.

For those interested, the dog is doing well. Still on pain meds in the morning, but taking supplements that should be kicking in soon. He's still sore, since he really doesn't want to play, but he is getting old, and that is just slowing him down I think. We'll be starting walks as soon as his new harness comes in so I don't yank his neck around. With how he likes to tug, we are going to have some training involved in teaching him how to walk at my side. Again. Been a while and never has worked that well. We'll learn together!