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Category Archives: anxiety

Exclude me?

My last appointment with T, I was telling her how horrible I’ve been feeling physically again. Among the conversation–other than grief and emotional issues–she mentioned that she had gone onto an exclusion type of diet. She’s been having some gastro issues, along with her fibro and post-shingles issue. I don’t know how SHE got onto the idea of doing a food change, but she mentioned to me that she was doing it and how well it was working for her.

I have already eliminated gluten due to a wheat allergy. In the past three months or so, I have cut out a majority of dairy in the form of cheese (I could never have imagined!), though I have not been entirely strict about it. Mostly I cut cheese out because I felt like I was eating it daily because I was accustomed to eating it and not so much because I was enjoying it. So I have changed to eating cheese when I want it–which isn’t as much as I had thought–and similarly with other dairy items. Again, I didn’t cut it all out, I just cut back a lot. Maybe 70% less than before.

The exclusion diet that T had been trying was something called the Whole30. I’ve been reading about it and learning the rules, and Hub and I have decided to give it a try. What makes it less…stressful, is that they suggest you do this for 30 days and then start re-introducing “non-compliant” foods one at a time to see what kind of reactions you have. When I say “reactions” this time, I mean physical and emotional reactions, as well as digestive/allergic reactions. Apparently Whole30 excludes all grains (including corn), legumes, dairy, certain oils, and added sugars (no matter if it’s real or fake sugars). They also urge people to eat as clean as possible, with organic (and hormone-free, and non-gmo, and humanely raised) meats, fruits, and veggies. Of course that can be difficult for a lot of people, both in terms of access and budget, so they suggest you do the best you can within your circumstances.

Generally speaking, Hub and I eat pretty balanced meals at dinner. We cook a lot, mostly because of my wheat issues and Hub’s diabetes. What will be more difficult is breakfast (which I don’t eat and I have a tolerance issue with eggs, which mostly is what they recommend for breakfast) and lunch. I don’t eat or like breakfast foods, so I am concerned about how to handle that. I eat split pea soup with mushrooms every day for lunch, with little variation. It keeps my bowels working well and it also means I don’t have to THINK about what to eat every day. On the Whole30, no legumes means no split peas. Hub eats a lot of dairy and lots of bread (and grains) and cereal, especially for breakfast. He eats lunch out when he’s at the office more than he takes food from home, which means more adjustments for him.

Although I’m worried about what I’m going to eat, I feel like it’s going to be easier for me in most instances than for Hub. I don’t eat out nearly as much as he does (mostly once a week so we can spend time with my father), I don’t eat hardly any bread–and can give up the stuff I eat without any problem–and I don’t eat cereal. I can more easily adjust to eating no added sugar because I don’t add sugar to anything except tea, which I rarely drink. (And when I say no added sugar, I mean NO SUGAR in any ingredient in any form in any item with the exception of naturally occurring sugar in whole foods.) And I think I can adapt my “first meal” of the day more easily than Hub, because I’ll just eat leftovers from one of our dinners. Also, I don’t get bored with food to the point that I won’t EAT the leftover food. I’ll just eat it because it’s easy, but Hub will turn his nose up at it if he’s “bored”.

We’ve already started a menu for the first week, at least for dinner and for Hub’s lunches. I’ll probably eat more salad than I have in recent months, because I’ll put leftover proteins on a salad and eat it that way with homemade oil and balsamic dressing, or homemade mayonnaise (or I’ve found “compliant” avocado mayo).

The Whole30 says no snacking because if you’re hungry in between meals then you’re not eating the right amount of proteins and fats with your meals. Lots of people in videos basically said they snacked on veggies or protein snacks when they thought they were hangry in between meals. Again, the idea of the Whole30 is supposed to be “resetting” your mindset when it comes to what you’re eating and why you’re eating it. Some people do the Whole30 because they have a kind of addiction to food, or an unhealthy relationship with food (hello! right here!), while others use it to figure out what might be bothering them physically or emotionally.

T told me she had tons more energy, stopped using antacids, her fibro pain was reduced, and her post-shingles pain was reduced. A lot of people I’ve seen on youtube or read on blogs have had similar responses, with reduced pain, reduced inflammation, and better gastro symptoms, better sleep, better energy while on the Whole30.

It’s going to take a lot of planning and forethought for us, which is difficult because a lot of evenings we’re kind of like scrambling for dinner…and we never have lunches or breakfasts pre-planned. We’ve never planned out meals for the week on a Sunday, or cooked lots of meals in advance… We’ll see how it goes. We’ve been talking a lot about it for the last two weeks (we wanted to wait until after the wedding to start, because eating out is nearly impossible to do on the Whole30 plan), and hope that we’re doing enough planning to make it through the month. I really want to try because if there’s some kind of foods that are bothering me and causing me this hideous fatigue, I want to know. If it isn’t rooted in food, then I can move on from that.

I do see an allergist in the middle of August, so I hope to eliminate that possibility as well. The neuro test isn’t until the first week of September, so that’s kind of a long wait for me, which sucks. Until then I have to just keep pressing on, and rest when I can’t do anything else. *sigh*

 

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Hairy tale (updated)

The saga.

As I noted in my comments on the previous post, I contacted Ulta Corporate about the whole incident. I got an email in return the next day saying my complaint had been forwarded to the local salon. Another day and I get a call from the local Ulta Salon’s manager, asking me for pictures of my hair. I told corporate and her that I’d spent more than $100 on getting my hair colored in advance, and that the stylist at Ulta had ruined my hair.

So I sent the salon manager the inspiration picture and my hair when completed (previous post), and told her where I thought the burnt section was. She said she’d get back to me after she got the pictures (and after I explained that no I didn’t go somewhere else to get my hair fixed after the incident, that I’d spent money PRIOR to going to Ulta–that they ruined) and let me know what they could do. She said corporate had told her that I went and got my hair fixed AFTER the Ulta fiasco, but I forwarded her the communication from Ulta showing what I’d said. WTF.

The salon manager calls me back and says they’ll refund me the money for my updo, but that’s it (I had given the stylist a cash tip, so that was GONE because I had no proof of that). I said fine, go ahead and refund my credit card.

NO, I had to go into Ulta so she could print something out from the salon that I would then take to the front to have refunded. She told me to come in the following day (this was yesterday) at 3pm, when she would be on duty. And she said I had to go back to the salon area to meet her, I couldn’t just go up front to the registers.

WTF.

So I go to the store today at 3pm, and I look back toward the salon and guess who’s working? Yeah, the guy who ruined my hair. Why would the manager ask me to come in when she knew he’d be working? When she knew it would be uncomfortable for her customer? Because she doesn’t give a shit about her customers. Just like the stylist on Sunday, this was never about customer service or the customer’s good experience, it was about them and their issues. I steel myself and walk back to the salon area and as I’m approaching a woman comes forward. I ask for the manager by name and she says it’s her. I give her my name and she tells me to sit and wait…despite the fact that she’d been doing NOTHING when I arrived. She stood around and asked about someone working on the floor, then came back and told me to follow her to a private office in the back of the store. I have no clue why…but I figured maybe she’s going to apologize? To say SOMETHING customer service related?

Nope.

She tells me to sit in the other chair in the room, then says, “I want to see your burnt hair.”

She’s already said she’s going to give me my money back, so WHAT-THE-EVER-LOVING-FUCK?! My hair was up in a clip, so I pull it down and tell her it’s the under-layer as far as I can tell. She looks through my hair, rolls her chair back and tells the woman who just appeared, “You can take her up front and use her receipt to give her a refund.” Then she says to me, “YOU DID BRING YOUR RECEIPT, DIDN’T YOU?”

Despite her not having told me to bring a receipt prior, I did in fact bring my receipt. I whip out the receipt and she argues over the fact that the receipt says $38.25 (we had a coupon) and I had said $40. In fact, I had said $50 because I had included the tip, but like I said the tip was loooooong gone because it was cash. But she’s arguing over the fact that I said $40 when it was in fact $38.25…WHO IS THIS PERSON?!

I’m dismissed with the staffer, who takes me back past the stupid stylist again, and we go up front. She takes me right to a register, asks me if I have my credit card, then realizes the system will just credit the card automatically. *sigh* Then she asks me to sign and then says, “I’m sorry for the issue you had.”

I said thanks and left the store.

Who are these people? I mean, what kind of customer service is this? Hub told me not to bother to get my  money back, but they need to be held accountable. It’s not right that they should get away with things like this. People trust them, they should pay attention to their customers. And if no one calls them on their shit…

I need a nap. And a cold pack.

 
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Posted by on August 3, 2017 in angry, anxiety, hair color, obsession, stress, tired

 

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Hairy tale (follow-up)

Because I need validation. I NEED VALIDATION.
(origin story post)

Inspiration photo:

 

The pic that Hub took of my hair:

20170730_222341

VALIDATE ME!

Makes me so mad that I paid for the above mess ($50 with tip). And see how in the above picture the side is sort of softly swooped away from the face in sections? I got none of that. He just pulled my hair back in a flat comb-back (don’t have a good picture of that part). And I got no soft curls, no romantic fall of hair…I got a bird’s nest. I wanted it up off my back because my dress had a kind of low back and I wanted it to show, but I didn’t get that either. And for the record, I told him all of this…and showed him the damn picture.

I know, I should have said something, but I couldn’t see ANY of my hair until we were done (he had me facing away from the mirror)…and by then we were already running so late that when we got home, I had thirty minutes to dress and do my make-up. I couldn’t stop to have him re-do, and I honestly was so freaking exhausted at that point that I didn’t care. But the more I think about it the angrier I get. I spent my time and energy not only finding someplace to go with my SIL and nephew’s girlfriend, but then I spent my waning energy by going there and having my hair done.

We had appointments for two of us at 1pm and the third person at 2pm. When they called to confirm on Saturday, they only had the first two appointments, and my appointment at 2pm was suspiciously canceled (they couldn’t figure out why or how it got canceled). The person on the phone re-added me, said they had plenty of time for me in the schedule, and that all was well. When we arrived at Ulta at 12:45, they had two stylists on duty and one of them was knee-deep in a wedding updo and makeup job. So they started with the SIL (who had to leave earlier than we did), and when the other stylist freed up (over an hour late), he started on my hair. He saw my inspiration picture, asked to see it again after a few minutes, then seemed to just go and do whatever he wanted. I suspect he has ONE style, that he then either puts UP or leaves half down, because I watched him do basically the same thing he did to me to the other person in my party, but he put her hair up instead of “curly”. HER hair looked pretty good, my SIL’s hair (done by the first stylist) was nice enough. I got a mess of a blobbly, sloppy pony tail with my hair wrapped around the base of it. WTF.

I kind of just want to go somewhere else with the pretty inspiration picture and ask them to do my damn hair so I can enjoy it. Boo.

I guess on the positive side, I had a lot of people compliment my dress and how I looked. I don’t handle compliments very well, so I felt awkward every time someone said something, but oh well. Amusingly enough, my SIL said she had picked out the same exact dress for her daughter’s wedding several years ago, but ended up wearing one of the other options she’d bought.

I’m in a bad mood. I shouldn’t post this blog but I’m gonna anyway. I wrote a review about the Ulta salon on Yelp, because I feel like the stylist just didn’t give a shit about what I wanted and people should know that.

I had a whole list of things I needed to do today, but other than PT this morning and packing up some purses to go back to Amazon (I ordered a “sampling” to go with my dress and kept one), I did none of it. Bleh.

Bleh bleh bleh.

Oh lordie I think he burnt my hair. I thought it was the smell of the product he used in my hair, but I have just washed and conditioned my hair and it STILL smells bad/burnt. OMG what the hell did he do??

 

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The weekend of (and a hairy tale)

I had my appointment with the psychic medium yesterday, but this post is not about that. I will post about it, but I can’t handle it right now.

This past week I had my hair color-fixed at the salon, and I ended up doing a purple-wine color, with blue underneath the major fall of my hair. It’s a little hard to see the blue because I’m wearing a blue shirt. You said “duh” but I honestly wore it in case I had any blue dye drippage, I figured you wouldn’t notice on the shirt. (the hair stylist took this photo outside of the salon)

redredwinehair2

And this is the photo I took indoors a few hours later. Sorry, I still have a thing about privacy and I couldn’t get pictures of the back of my head because my shoulder doesn’t cooperate these days.

redredwine3

 

I was surprised at how nice my hair looked considering how shitty the texture was prior to the dye-job. I asked her not to trim the “crispy” ends because I’m getting an updo for the wedding and I wanted the extra length for that. As it turns out–so far–the ends were far from crispy after I was dyed and washed. She said the demi-colors that she used were conditioning (and so is the blue, which isn’t demi), so here’s hoping. At present, I’m sitting here with a treatment on my hair prior to the first wash after the dye-job. I hope my hair isn’t in horrible shape after the wash in another half an hour.

Anyway, I like the colors, I’m just feeling a little shell-shocked at how I look with dark hair again. I’ve been living with the washed-out hair for so long that the dark color is DARK. It also drives me kinda crazy that I can’t ever make my hair look like it looks walking out of the salon. I know that’s a very common complaint for women, but shit…look at that hair on the first picture. It looks so soft and bouncy and shiny and lovely. It’s a trick, people! Stylists are witches…I’m telling you. They have some kind of voodoo magic, that’s why none of us can ever replicate it.

So yesterday, the appointment with the psychic. Last evening, I was tired. I slept really crappy last night, woke up at 6am to my father’s barking dog outside…and I never got back to sleep. I’ve been feeling crappy all day today. I basically sat in my recliner all day and tried to do nothing. My face and my head and everything felt swollen and stuffy. I don’t know how else to explain it. Like when you go through a pressure change? And then later, as the day wore on, I started feeling off-balance and that terrible exhaustion creeping up on me. When I got up to eat dinner with Hub, I really felt tired and off-balance and nauseated and I had trouble walking. I was upset after dinner because I knew I had to rinse my hair and then put the treatment on…and then wash the treatment from my hair.

And I’m worried about tomorrow. I’m supposed to go with my SIL and my nephew’s girlfriend to get updo’s done for the wedding. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it. I’m not even sure how well I’m going to make it through the wedding. I feel so shitty…the wedding is supposed to be like five hours long… I’ll try to do nothing in the morning in the hopes I can make it to the salon and then to the wedding. I had hoped to do my nails tonight, but that’s out. Sucks more than I expected because I think my fingernails are a bit tinted blue from putting the treatment into my blue hair. I hope when I go to wash my hair that the blue tint won’t get worse. I’ll be at the wedding with blue-tinged hands…yay. Maybe I shouldn’t have waited until today to wash my hair for the first time since getting it dyed, but I was trying to keep the color fresh. Oh well…

The worst part is how bad I feel physically. Is it because of the emotions that came up yesterday with the psychic? Is it the wedding tomorrow we’ll be celebrating without Mom? Is it having family in town (and staying with us) without Mom? Or is it my physical health is just shitty? Did I eat something wrong? Is it a combination of all of the above?

Well, I hope when I get my hair done tomorrow I can get a picture of it. I wanted to have the blue peek through a little with the updo just for fun. We’ll see how it comes out. And hopefully I make it through at least the ceremony and the dinner. I’ll call it a success if I can do that…anything more than that will be gravy.

 

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I need a minute

I had my hair colored yesterday (more in another blog), which took about two hours. This morning I had to get up early to go to PT (her first appointment of the day) so that I could get to my neurology appointment on time.

This was my second PT appointment, the first with full treatment since initial appointments include lots of time for evaluation and pre-treatment measurements. I’d been doing the stretching exercises she assigned me since Friday, so I have been doing some work. Today, though, she did some more stretching…and it hurt. The physical therapist is a very nice, very low-key woman, who spends most of the appointments so far reassuring me that I will make progress and I will feel better. I’ve told her that I am VERY familiar with PT, as I’ve been multiple times over the years. Even so, she seems intent on keeping up with the reassurances…I guess she thinks she is being encouraging, I’m not sure. Anyway, the appointment was painful and I left feeling sore and tired.

When I got home, Hub told me he couldn’t go with me to the neurologist because he had a big meeting come up at work. My father offered to go, but I really didn’t want to have to deal with my dad’s pushiness, especially with a new-to-me doctor. So I said I’d be okay, and when the time came I headed off to the doctor’s office.

The doctor was on time, which was shocking to me, and his space in the suite was a combo office and exam room. It was a little odd, I’ve never seen anything like that. Normally you are in an exam room or you meet with the doctor in a separate office space. We sat down and he asked me what was happening. I gave him my history as best I could–including the recent bloodwork done that had all come back normal–and told him the issues I was having recently. He asked me a ton of questions, most of which I gave negatory answers to…it almost looked like he was reading from a list on his laptop! He then went through the litany of physical neuro tests–most of which I’ve been through before. When that was done, we sat back down at his desk and he stared at his laptop for a minute. Then he started saying that I didn’t fit in this category (ALS) or that category (Myasthenia gravis) or even that category (Guillain-Barré)…and each time he described WHY I didn’t fit. Having been alone, I tried to remember every reason why I didn’t match those categories, but I was busy thinking “oh, but I do have trouble swallowing!” (but I don’t REALLY) and “oh, my upper body IS weak” (but not REALLY) and “oh, I do have tingling!” (but probably that’s when I overdo or my limb falls asleep). It’s like he was giving symptoms (more than I just described) and I was latching onto them, worrying that maybe I really did have those symptoms and they were just on the mild side and what if I had missed the symptoms??

It was hard. I don’t remember which disease was ruled out by which missing symptom(s). I know he didn’t specifically rule out MS (multiple sclerosis) and I don’t know why.  I was afraid to ask. The final result was the he wanted to start with bloodwork for some muscle thing, and that he wanted to do an EMG (electromyogram). He said he had time to do it later that afternoon or tomorrow because of cancellations, but I didn’t want to do something unknown when I had the wedding this weekend. I said I wasn’t available and at that point the best they could do was schedule for the end of August. So I put it on my calendar and left the office.

I drove home, feeling weak and tired…and so disappointed, even though I really had no hopes for the appointment. I guess some part of me thought something would come of it, but it had to be pretty far buried in my subconscious. When I got home, Hub was still on the phone for his meeting, so he slipped over to greet me briefly. I said I was going upstairs to change my clothes, then decided I wanted to lie down for a while. I called my father to update him, had to listen to him talk about the time HE had some sort of muscle electricity test thingy twenty-plus years ago for a possible pinched nerve, then I stripped and got into bed. I barely settled in when Hub came in to check on me…he wanted to know if something happened that I hadn’t told him.

I cried. I don’t want to be sick again…or more than I already am. I’m tired of being sick. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of not knowing. I’m tired of having to change my life because I’m sick again, or more. I’m tired of having to grieve for the life I had, or the one I’ll never have, because I’m sick again, or more.

Hub hugged me, and even though I knew he wanted to hover and smother because that’s his M.O., he left me to rest. I just wanted a minute to mourn, you know? I needed a minute to come to terms with the disappointment, with the fatigue of it all. No one ever knows what is wrong with me. I’m always a syndrome…a catch-all that I’m dumped in because I don’t match any known disease or medical terminology.  I’m tired. So fucking tired.

I laid in bed for several hours–though I got up briefly to eat some soup because I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything prior to that–and just did nothing. I just couldn’t get up the energy to participate in life. My body and my soul didn’t want to body or soul.

I got up and had dinner later, and I talked with Hub like I was “normal”, but inside I’m hurting and I’m disappointed and I’m lost. Again. And writing these things has me crying again…

 

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Teaching them

One of my brothers lives with my father. He has always lived with my parents, though I have no idea why he decided to do so. He’s fifty-three and was born profoundly deaf due to my mother getting German Measles when she was pregnant with him. He’s been wearing hearing aides since he was a baby, and my parents made sure he went to a regular public school so he could learn to live with hearing people. The school system he was enrolled in offered individual assistance for him so he didn’t fall behind in his classes. He’s lived a pretty normal life, went to college, worked retail jobs, got his degree, and has been working in the government for many many years. He maintains relationships with lots of friends–hearing and deaf–and participates in all kinds of activities. He helps arrange and run racquetball tournaments for both deaf leagues and hearing leagues. He travels, stays in hotels alone, drives daily to work, works among his colleagues, goes to a gym, sees his doctors…etc etc. He’s a pretty smart person, though sometimes his communication skills lag a bit. Most people deal with it pretty well, and so does he.

But he’s never had a romantic relationship that we’re aware of, though he has tons of friends. He’s never wanted to go away for any long period of time, never wanted to move out, and often relied on my mother to do things for him. Things he could do–though they might take some extra effort from him–but for whatever reason he chose not to do them. My mother did the things for him out of love, I’m sure. My brother helped (and still helps) take care of their current house and the property it sits on. He would cook occasionally and would stop at the grocery store to pick up a few things when my mother asked. He’s terrible at cleaning, but he takes good care of their dog. Now that Mom is gone, he handles the majority of the bills at the house, does all the taxes for him and my father, and he helps my father with most of the technology in the house.

There are times that he lets things slide that normally my mother would have handled. He and my father, living together like bachelors in their house now, often overlook things because they don’t want to deal with them. I have tried very hard to stay out of my mother’s role, because I do not want to be her. I don’t want to follow them around and make sure things get done, or be called upon when they don’t want to handle things. When things fall by the wayside, they scramble to handle them but it seems to be okay the majority of the time. One of the last issues I have struggled to step out of is their dog. I hate to see their dog suffer because they aren’t staying on top of things, or because they aren’t paying her enough attention. She was really my mother’s dog, her companion and her shadow, especially during Mom’s cancer. My father doesn’t pay the dog too much mind, and his memory is pretty shitty. I often worry that he lets her out into the yard and then forgets about her. It has only happened once or twice since my mother’s death, and neither time did she suffer too much discomfort before I discovered the lapse. Fortunately, their dog barks hysterically if she wants to get back in the house, so there have been times when I hear her barking and I call my dad to remind him she’s outside.

We are all heading to the wedding next weekend. It’s being held less than 30 minutes from our home(s), but it’s an evening wedding. It starts right before dinnertime and we need to be there early enough to get parking and walk to the venue. That means our dogs will all need to have someone come in to feed them and let them out after dinner. Hub and I have been talking about this for weeks, and we finally interviewed a couple of dog-sitters from Rover.com. We’ve used dog-sitters before, but we didn’t really like their service as they were ONLY drop-in and they would only promise to stop in on the dogs in a two hour window. So we interviewed a couple of people and found someone who will come in and stay with our dogs for the whole evening. They have a pretty active evening routine (including dinner), so we figured we’d pay the person to stay the whole evening. It’s not terribly expensive and we’re over-protective owners, so we went ahead and hired someone.

I said nothing to my brother or my father about their dog. They’re grown men, they take care of their dog, they knew the wedding was coming up for six months. If they were concerned about their dog, they should have done something. And I didn’t want to put my nose into their life and ask or suggest they make arrangements. It sounds petty, but I don’t want to be their mother or their wife. GROWN ADULTS.

Hub and I decided to have the dog-sitter come in once before the wedding so the dogs would have a chance to get to know the sitter. We hired her for a drop-in visit (30 minutes) to let the dogs out and play with them while we were out for a longer-than-normal dinner with my family. We all drove together to the restaurant, so when we got home, the sitter was still at our house (dinner didn’t take as long as we expected). Immediately my brother wanted to know who was at our house when he saw the car parked in front of our garage. So I told him we were trying out a dog-sitter in advance of the wedding. He sort of frowned and started to ask me questions, but I only said we’d met her a few weeks prior and then we went home.

Two days later–this is now ten days before the wedding–my brother sends me a message via googletalk to ask me how the dog-sitter had worked out. I said she was good, the dogs seemed to like her (but they like everyone!), so we were set for the wedding. His next question was, “Can she handle three dogs?” Because he hadn’t made any arrangements and he figured he would just leave his dog at my house and so he’d be all set without having to do anything! Again, I felt petty, but I don’t want him thinking that he’ll just let us always handle things and he’ll tag on. I told him that it wasn’t appropriate for our sitter to take care of his dog when she hadn’t met the dog. This was exactly why we had interviewed people in our house to see them with our dogs, and then did a trial-run before the wedding. Also, his dog is not the easiest to handle, especially when she’s in OUR house versus their house. And I told him all of that. I said he needed to find his own sitter, who would come to his house and take care of his dog. So he said there was no time left (TEN DAYS), and so he’d just have to come home early from the wedding to take care of his dog. Guilt and manipulation…because he hadn’t bothered to do the responsible thing for his dog and his plans. Six  months they’ve known about the exact time and date for the wedding.

I felt badly. I had guilt so built up that I didn’t sleep that night thinking about it. I knew he was mad at me, but I didn’t want to teach him that if he didn’t do what he was supposed to, I would clean up after him. I didn’t want him to think that he could let things slide because he figured I would step in. Teaching people how to treat you is important, and I was teaching him to treat me like his sister, not his mother.

TWO DAYS LATER he asked me to help him get a dog-sitter. I had already given him the Rover.com website, so I didn’t understand why he needed my help. He opened the app on his iPad and through every step he asked for my input. HE’S A COMPUTER PERSON. He’s been in IT in the government for probably 25 years…why the hell did he need me to stand over him to help him with an app that I’ve NEVER EVEN USED. Hub and I were using the Rover.com website, not the app, so I’d never seen the app before. *sigh* We contacted several people, set up two for interviews, then he wanted me to be there at the interviews. As it turns out, the first person who came the very next night was the person he hired because the second person flaked out on us.

So he’s got his dog-sitter. We’ve got our dog-sitter. I persist in teaching him and my father that I am not their mother or wife, and that I am not going to step in and take care of things for them. I persist in reminding myself that I am teaching them to be independent human beings, capable of handling their lives. Obviously, if they seriously need me, I am there for them. But these simple, every-day things? They need to learn to handle their business like adults. And if they don’t handle their business, they are going to have to deal with their consequences.

Still, I feel petty and mean. And guilty. And I resent my brother’s attempt at manipulating and guilting me into doing what he wanted. The sooner he learns that he needs to handle things on his own, the better our sibling relationship will be. I hope.

In preparation for the wedding, I am getting my hair color fixed on Tuesday. I have my fingers crossed it goes well, because I’m not sure I could get it fixed again in between now and the wedding. I also have PT for my impinged (and frozen!) shoulder along with a neurology appointment this week.

And then I see a psychic medium on Friday. Should be an interesting experience and I’m not entirely sure I believe in them. I hope to report back on all the goings-on next week.

 
 

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Two year cancer update

This past week I went to see my gyn oncologist for my annual cancer check-up. Oddly, the office was very quiet and they took me back on time. Normally the place is mobbed and we wait forty-five minutes to an hour to see the doctor. I’m not complaining, it was just so weird. As it was, my original appointment was at 2pm, but the Thursday before my appointment the office called to say the doctor was going to be out of the office at that time and could we move the appointment to an earlier time. We, of course, got there about twenty minutes early, and during that time we saw my doctor wandering around casually like he had nothing much going on. Normally he’s running from one exam room to another and never comes out to the front the entire hour or so we’re waiting.

I wasn’t sure if all this was a good omen or a bad one.

My blood pressure is always good in their office. This time, though, the wrist cuff they normally use wouldn’t stay velcro’d on, which was a bit upsetting because it made me feel like my wrist was too fat. I had to stop myself and change my inner monologue, because every other time we’ve been there the wrist pressure cuff has worked. I assume this particular one was losing it’s velcro power. So the nurse did an old-fashioned manual check and again my BP was pretty awesome. Normally I get white-coat syndrome and my BP is kind of high, but at the gyn/onc’s office it’s in the normal range…and I have no idea why.

Le Dottore came into the exam room wearing an awesome royal purple tie with white polka dots. Purple is mine and my mother’s favorite color, so I took that as a good sign. I even told him how much I loved his tie and he said purple was his favorite color. We did the exam–which took no time at all–and he pronounced everything “awesome.” I asked about my yearly CT Scan, because the original plan in 2015 had been yearly ct scans every July, and yearly paps every January. This last January he said paps every TWO years…and this week he said he saw no reason for a CT. I said I thought it was yearly CT’s and paps every 2 years. He said “no reason to do paps unless there are symptoms” and basically the same for the CT scan. He said my exams have been perfect and without symptoms, he didn’t see a reason to do the scan. I don’t know if their policies have changed due to new information or what, but it was kind of stressful to hear that they wouldn’t be following me as closely as I had been told. I said I was a little concerned about not doing a CT, but that I understood getting a CT subjected me to radiation (which can actually cause cancer), so the choice wasn’t cut and dry. He said it was my choice, we could do one now or talk again next year. He said recurrences happen most often in the first two years, but even that was a low number (he said 10% but I’d read 15%). But again, he was happy to give me a referral if I wanted the CT. I asked for the referral but said I’d think about my options.

I discussed this with Hub and with T, and in the end I think I’m going to get the CT scan. I’m too worried about all the bits inside that he can’t see or touch, where cancer could be growing without any symptoms or pain. (My mother had cancer recurrence and she had no physical symptoms that she spoke of.) If I didn’t do the CT when I could have and then something happened, I’d beat myself up something fierce. And since “ct scan radiation causes cancer” is actually NOT something they can prove scientifically–it’s a guessing game because they can’t subject people to CT’s to see if they get cancer–I’ll be taking what is an unknown risk versus the actual risk of missing something growing.

I’ll be waiting until after the wedding to do the scan so it doesn’t make me feel lousy or sick this week when I have so much to do. And I’ll have the relief of knowing there was nothing to be seen that could have been seen.

Two year cancer check achievement unlocked.

 
 

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