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Category Archives: food

Jet plane, day 1

We dropped Hub off this morning at 4:15am for his flight. After I got home and let the dogs out, I instant messaged with Hub until he boarded the plane at 5:45. By then I’d already fed the dogs and gotten back into bed. I dozed for a few hours, then got up and went about my day. For the most part I felt like Hub was at work and I allowed myself to just be that way. I’ve almost read two books and I pretty much had movies on the TV all day, although mostly they were movies I’d already seen. I had Mama Mia! on the TV maybe three times at random points through the movie, because I like singing those songs and they passed the time more easily. Hairspray was on at least once, too.

I’ve done okay for most of the day. Unfortunately, around 9:30pm tonight, Butthead freaked out and had her tail tucked under and was barking hysterically while backing her way into the bedroom where I was reading and watching TV. I went out into the hallway and checked all the rooms up here (she refused to follow me and instead ran down the stairs), but I have no idea what her major malfunction was. I took them out in the darkness, but luckily it was a little rainy, so both dogs ran out and peed and ran right back to the door to go in. So we kind of settled into the bedroom at that point and after some treats and wandering around, they both have settled in. I suspect they are also exhausted from starting their day at 3am.

I’ve talked to Hub twice on the phone and a few more times on instant messenger. He seems to be okay but the last we talked about an hour ago, he was sounding just exhausted. I hope he’s going to sack out soon, even though it’s pretty early in the evening out there. He said he kept moving his legs around on the plane, even though first class wasn’t as roomy as he’d hoped, and that he felt okay when he deboarded. Is that a word? Deboarded? What else do they call it? Anyway, he says he felt okay and when I talked to him later he said he was feeling okay just tired from the long day.

I was happy to hear from my SIL by phone (I couldn’t figure out the damn facetime thing through FB’s messenger) after she opened my gift to her for her wedding. I crocheted her a blanket that turned out to be about queen size (the pic below is spread out on a king size guest bed) in these amazing colors that made me think of her. Hub’s father said she has walls in her house painted in yellow and orange, so I found this awesome yarn and went to town. Took me several months (and a lot of pain) to get the blanket done, but apparently she loved it a lot. Made me feel like the work was worth it.

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I saw my father earlier when I took the dogs out this afternoon and he reminded me that I could stay at his house overnight or whatever. I said I was going to try to stay home, but if I had any issue I would just hike over there with the dogs and stay there. Around 8:30pm tonight he called to see how I was doing and how my day had gone. Then he reminded me that if I had any trouble I should just let myself into his house no matter what time it was. Then he gave me his late-night schedule so I would know how late he would be awake, but then he told me again to just come over whenever I need to.

I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sleep tonight or not. I still have some reading left in my second book of the day and a youtube video to watch for a channel I subscribe to. I dunno…I’m locked in the bedroom with the dogs and I’m sure I’m safe (even though I’m kind of worried that I locked the bedroom door and if someone needs to get in here to rescue me for some reason the locked door will be an issue), but it’s still weird. I kind of hope I’ll be tired enough to fall asleep at some point.

I had my regular soup for lunch and leftover takeout for dinner, so eating wasn’t a major issue today. I have more takeout again for tomorrow night’s dinner if I want it, and I (pressure) cooked up a fresh pot of my lunch-soup this morning so I have enough for the rest of the week. It’s boring, but I eat soup most days of the week for lunch because it means I don’t have to think about it. I dump it in a bowl, add some sauteed mushrooms, and nuke it…easy-peasy no thinking. Also, the soup is bean soup, so it’s pretty healthy…protein and fiber and veggies and carbs, all-in-one.

That’s pretty much it for today. One down, three more to go.

Next installment…

 
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Posted by on May 28, 2017 in anxiety, Butthead, control, dad, dogs, fear, food, hub, love, sleep, stress, time, tired

 

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Insider information

I went through a couple different ideas for titles for this blog post, but this one seemed the most benign. Because I’m going to talk about my upcoming test on Monday.

It’s a colonoscopy.

I am less than thrilled, and at the moment, getting more and more anxious about it. Unfortunately, this last week, I’ve had stomach issues that resulted in me wanting to just cry all day and all night. I don’t get really constipated often, and this time was the absolute worst (and I have NO idea why this happened). It was made worse by the fact that I think I have a hemorrhoid (sorry, TMI) which was causing me pain every time I tried to go to the bathroom. Needless to say, the latter half of this week was bad. I had to call the GI doctor’s office late Thursday evening to see if I could take something because there was no way I could make it through to Sunday when I start my actual bowel prep. They said yes, I took something, and it hardly helped at all.

Are you aware that there’s a guy on Reddit (which I almost never read unless it’s a link from somewhere and even then it’s rare) who didn’t poop for a month and then posted about his “ordeal”? OMG, it’s both hilarious and horrendous. Don’t go look it up because there are links to pictures (which I didn’t look at), and lots of advice and a (supposed) doctor who urges the guy to go to the ER. The end result is that he goes to the hospital and eventually goes home and is fine. But there were thousands of people checking in to see if the “poop guy” had actually pooped.

I spent too much time on the internet Thursday and Friday.

Friday I finally had some relief (at the expense of more pain than I would have liked), but of course Friday night and today I’ve been feeling the effects of the milk of magnesia I took Thursday night. And since I’m expecting to start a bowel prep Sunday late afternoon, I figured I might as well eat light yesterday and today. Maybe it will make things a bit easier Sunday night and Monday morning. But the lack of food has been challenging, in that I feel cold and tired and anxious. I’ve been trying to stay hydrated and to eat enough to not feel woozy, but I’ve literally done nothing today. I desperately want to go back to bed, but if I don’t at least try to stay awake and move around, I’ll never sleep tonight.

I’m also worrying about why I ended up so damn constipated, because that was the absolute worst. I don’t know how people deal with that on a regular basis, for those who have IBD and Chron’s and such. I am afraid that this might continue to happen to me–because I can’t pinpoint WHY it happened this time, my diet has been pretty much the same for months–and I don’t know how I could handle it. On top of all the other stuff in my medical life…

I’m concerned about the actual procedure as well as the prep. They’re going to be putting me under anesthesia, which is scary to me. And of course the test could result in problems if they screw something up. And then the results of the test could bring up issues that will need to be dealt with in some way. All of this is is settling in on me and making me anxious. I talked to T about this stuff at my appointment yesterday, but I was feeling less distressed then than I am now. Of course, I’m a day closer and I’ve had nothing to do today except think. I have tried distracting myself with TV and watching some videos on Youtube, but I’m at a point where it’s not working anymore. I’m also vacillating between feeling hot and cold, for no reason…except maybe the lack of food. Also, it’s 35 degrees out and windy, so the weather isn’t helping, especially when I have to take the dogs out.

To add insult… Hub has some friends over to hang out. When they stopped to eat lunch, Hub told me he “wasn’t feeling right”, which scares me. He didn’t know what it was or why, but it was enough for him to check his blood pressure (which was a bit low for him) and his pulse (which was a little high for him, but he was feeling anxious). About an hour ago he reported in that he was feeling pretty much the same as earlier. So now I’m worrying about me and the prep and the test AND worrying about him.

I just want the test to be over.

 

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Shave and a haircut…

…two bits.

Mom finished her radiation treatments today. The nurses at the radiation center are beyond amazing women. I can’t tell you how phenomenal it is that these women go in to work every day and help people who are battling life-threatening diseases. How they go in every day, knowing that they’re seeing people who are so sick…who might not make it in for the next treatment. Some who can’t get out of chairs because they are so weak and frail. And yet these nurses smile and hug and encourage…and they love.

This was the second round of radiation for Mom. The first was pelvic radiation, this time it was brain radiation. When Mom came back in for this second round–the first was last summer–the nurses recognized her. They hugged her. They carried her puke bucket for her. They showed her pictures of their lives–weddings, children–and they remembered that she crocheted special hats for them. They greeted me and they greeted Dad like we were friends.

So Mom rang the bell at the radiation center for a second time. The nurses gave her a certificate–that they each signed after they wrote very sweet things–as well as a cover for her puke bucket that re-assigned as her “crochet bucket”. I took pictures of Mom ringing the bell, but it was harder to feel excitement. This was the second time she’s rung the bell for treatment completion at the radiation center. Adding in the chemo center, she’s rung a bell three times…and yet I know that the cancer is continuing to grow. There’s no question in my mind. This cancer is so aggressive, there’s not going to be any stopping it.

I smiled and cheered Mom on as she rang the bell. Afterward, we went out for lunch with Hub and my oldest brother, and my other brother and his wife surprised Mom by showing up as well. After we all stuffed our faces, I went back to my parents’ house with them to get Mom settled. We talked about cutting her hair as we drove back to the house because the radiation was causing Mom to lose her hair again (due to the location of the radiation beams). She had pulled out some clumps already and we’ve seen her shedding hair at home. It was clear she was irritated, so I offered to cut her hair really short. She usually wears her hair short-ish, but I’d say it was about 4″ long at the longest area. I started cutting and then my brother brought down his hair clippers, so I proceeded to shave her hair (with a guard) really carefully so I didn’t irritate her scalp. I left her with about half an inch of hair. Enough to keep her head from freezing, but not long enough to irritate her when it continued falling out. She thanked me and then we got her settled onto the couch so she could rest. Dad and I cleaned up the hair from the floor, then we ordered pizza and calzones and strombolis from the local pizza place. Mom wanted the food for the weekend (she had a hankering for it), in case the restaurant wouldn’t be open after the snow. I rubbed Mom’s fuzzy head, kissed her cheek, and I came home.

I never expected to have that memory with me. I’m glad I was able to help her feel more comfortable by shaving her hair, but I don’t know how to cut hair. I do a terrible job trimming the dogs–even though I do it when it’s needed so they don’t have to sit in a cage at the groomers waiting to get trimmed–so I wasn’t looking forward to cutting Mom’s hair. I did it because she needed it, but I hated doing it. I hated that it needed to be done. I hated it.

I walked home in the lightly falling snow. We’re expecting an actual “official” blizzard here (it’s going to meet real criteria for a blizzard, they’re not just saying it’s a blizzard…who knew?). 20-30″ of snow when all is said and done. It was that eerie quiet outside as I walked home. I let my mind stay blank and felt the snow touch my face, wet my hair, linger on the scarf I was wearing that my grandmother crocheted for me a million years ago. Inside my house, I took off my coat and hung it on the back of chair, then went to throw something away in the trashcan in our mudroom. The can has this latch thingy that requires you push the lid down to latch and unlatch. I pushed it to unlatch it, threw out the paper in my hand, then pushed it to latch it again. Only there was a towel on top of it (that we use to dry the dogs from the snow) that got caught under the lid. So I yanked on the towel while simultaneously trying to push the lid down to release the latch again. It didn’t work, and I swear I stood there and pounded my fist on the lid repeatedly as I yanked on the towel. BANG BANG BANG BANG. Hard. Loud enough that Hub stuck his head in the doorway to see what was going on. I finally got the lid to pop open, pulled the towel out and closed the lid again. I shrugged at Hub and said, “Guess I had some rage to get out.”

Poor guy did the right thing and scurried away without comment.

Last night when Mom texted me (she’s getting into this texting thing now that she has a stylus…she’s texting her grandkids and my non-local brother) “Alarm! Hair is falling out! Just thought you’d want to know.” she also told me she was eating some store-bought ice cream leftover from a recent visit from my nieces. So after the rage incident, I mixed up her favorite ice cream–chocolate peanut butter–and dumped it into the ice cream machine to churn. When it was done, I put it into a blue freezer container, then called Mom to say I was coming over and I was bringing the snow with me. She said, “Only if it’s chocolate covered snow.” The steroids have really cranked up her appetite for everything, including her beloved chocolate. She’s eating a lot of food now, and we make it into a joke…that no one should stand still too long in her house or they might get chewed on. So I suited up in my coat and scarf, and walked back to her house to deliver the freshly made ice cream. Again, the quietness of the snow, the gentle touch of the icy flakes, it was all so serene and so…engulfing is the only word I can come up with. I’m not sure how it really made me feel, it just was so noticeable.

I showed Mom the container of ice cream and promised that by her snack time later that evening it would be firm enough to eat, then I stuffed it into her freezer. She told me she talked to her good friend on the phone, she talked to my brother who lives in another state, and she thanked me again for cutting her hair. I told her I loved her. I told her to text me later to say good night. And I was outside for the walk home. Crunch crunch crunch. The snow was sticking the ground by now–maybe two or three inches-and I tried to duck-walk my way back home, following my footsteps only now I was leaving prints that were backward to the original. I know it sounds confusing, but at the time it seemed important to make those marks in the snow in just the right way.

When I got home, I realized how tired I was. I realized how much my body hurt. I cleaned up the stuff from the ice cream machine (it cleans easier if you do it right away) and got myself a big glass of water. I sat down and nearly couldn’t get back up when it was time for dinner.

If it really does snow as much as they say, I won’t be able to get over to Mom’s tomorrow. That’s why I ran back over tonight with the ice cream, so she had it for the weekend. If it really does snow as much as they say, I’ll have nothing to concentrate on. Mom’s doing well enough that they don’t need me over there if Dad and my brother are there (my brother lives with them). I don’t have to worry about figuring out how to get over there in 2+ feet of snow. I can stay home and do my best not to think.

Maybe I’ll be able to get outside with the dogs. I might not be able to get off the deck as my knees are really unhappy and walking through the snow in the back yard would be too painful. But maybe I’ll get some pictures. Maybe I’ll see the dogs romp. Maybe I’ll be okay.

 

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Nutritionally nerdy

A few weeks before Christmas, Hub and I went to a lecture given by a nutritionist who works in the same organization as T. I saw the announcement for the lecture in email, but then T also sent me an email saying, “this is really cool! I’ve been doing some research on this…” because the lecture was about the “second brain” in your gut. The gut-brain connection, basically. It was a topic T and I had spoken about briefly, and something that I had already done a little research on myself.

We attended the lecture, which had a very small audience–like six or seven people–and had a chance to meet with and hear from the nutritionist. Who told us multiple times that she was “nerding out” over what she was talking about. I found her information really interesting but a lot of it I’d already read about or heard before. Hub hadn’t, but I had. What was almost as interesting was the conversation we had with the nutritionist after her lecture was over. She had brought some drinks and food for us to taste that was supposed to be good for our gut. I tried a few things, and amusingly enough so did Hub after the nutritionist kind of challenged him to do so.

In the end, we took some of the nutritionist’s advice, including changing from drinking low-fat milk to whole milk (because low-fat milk is more processed and has more sugar)…organic milk even. Then we started a regimen of drinking Kefir every day, made again from organic whole milk, in order to get more good bacteria into our gut and colon. We had tried Kefir before but the brand that the nutritionist brought to the lecture for us to try was actually really good, so I make a special trip to a local organic market to buy it every two weeks or so. We made these couple of small changes after the lecture, and then Hub decided he wanted to go see the nutritionist for an individual appointment to see how she could further help our health. With his diabetes, high cholesterol, high blood pressure, and my gluten and stomach issues, we have been looking for better ways to eat healthier. Part of the problem, though, is that Hub does not eat a big variety of vegetables, but the nutritionist assured us that she was up for the challenge we were presenting as a couple.

We met with her, J,  last week for just over an hour. I think she was encouraged that we were able to make some changes already just based on her lecture. Most of the appointment was taken up with history and getting-to-know you information. I will note, though, that she has a really good sense of humor and seemed able to take Hub’s jokes in stride. Part way through the appointment I was telling her that we tried to eat an avocado–which neither of us really likes–in order to figure out how to get it into our diet since it’s a really good “fat”. I had asked the vegetable and fruit guy at the store to help me pick one, then we went home and cut it and tried to eat it plain. It was bad,  ya’ll. It tasted like…well, Hub said it tasted like a hardboiled egg that had gone bad. I’m not sure it was all that, but it wasn’t good. So in a weird twist of fate, J actually had brought a second sandwich in to work that day (I get hungry, so some days I pack TWO  lunches she tells us…Miss J who can’t weight more than 100lbs soaking wet) that had avocado slices, cucumbers, and mayonnaise. And lucky me (I actually knew about this ahead of time because I had stalked her on twitter before our appointment), J keeps a gluten free home, so the “sandwich” was on gluten free bread and made in a gluten free kitchen. She handed me half her sandwich and said, “Try this!” It was actually pretty good, but we have no idea why HER avocado was okay and ours was so gross. But I promised we’d try the avocado again.

And for the record, she’s asked me to start eating breakfast (yay I say sarcastically) because she thinks it might help with my fatigue; she’s asked us to try to cut back red meat to once (or twice) a week (although we don’t always eat red meat every week, it just depends); she asked Hub to cut back on his juice drinks and try liquid stevia instead of powdered; she asked us to try getting more dairy that is hormone free (since we both eat cheese and yogurt and milk). Then she asked us to check back in with her when we feel that these changes have become routine rather than something we “have” to do. And that we’d take things step-by-step, little bits at a time. She said she likes to “meet people where they are” and encourage small changes at a time. And in the meantime, she’s working on more food plans for us, with the hopes that Hub can find some more foods he can eat that are healthier but also actually doable for him.

I asked J what I could eat for breakfast that would be quick and easy and protein-full, because that was her suggestion to keep me full and energized. Mostly she suggested Greek yogurt, but she wanted me to get organic and whole milk again. She suggested a brand–the same as the Kefir we enjoy–and said I might want to try making my own granola again to put on the yogurt. We bought a couple of different versions of the yogurt she suggested and so far…blech. I’ve got a container of the vanilla flavored version that is passable, and I DID make my granola again, but I can’t say I love eating breakfast. I don’t feel like my stomach is awake and most things make me feel BLEH that early in the morning. I was NEVER a breakfast eater. I don’t like breakfast foods. I don’t like eating early in the morning. And these days, I don’t like trying to fit the food into my morning routine because I’ve been on the go so much these past weeks. BUT I AM TRYING.

I’m not sure how much Hub is trying his stuff. We are looking to eat less red meat, so that’s on our radar. We’re hoping J has more suggestions for dinners because we’re going to get tired of eating fish, especially since neither of us is incredibly fond of fish.

Oh, and yeah, she asked for copies of our recent blood work. She said she just loves to see how the blood work results work in tandem with each rather than how the doctors looks at the results for each individual test independently. She said she just “nerds out” over blood work. She’s a nice lady but she’s kinda weird. Of course, I’d be interested to see if she makes anything of our blood work, but then again, I’m kinda weird, too.

That’s our nutrition journey at the moment. Good times.

 

 

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And so I fly… (part 1)

Spoiler alert: I made it home alive (and so did my husband).

Yeah, so the trip is over and I survived the flights both going and coming back. It was not fun either time and I hope to not fly again. Ever.

Our round trip was Sunday. On Friday night I started getting nervous. More about whether I was going to forget something or get to security and have to throw something away. But behind that, I was starting to get nervous about the flight itself. Hub isn’t a good flier either, so he was starting to get nervous, too. In some ways, that made me feel better because he doesn’t have anxiety and yet he was getting worried about the flight. Anyway, we left for the airport and parked our car in the daily lot, then grabbed the shuttle to the airport. We found the security line, which ended up taking almost an hour to get through. It was crazy ridiculous. I did what I was supposed to, including putting my liquids (mostly makeup) into a clear baggie and on the conveyor belt outside of my small bag. But guess what? After going through the xray doohickey, they stopped me and a female TSA agent said she was going to have to pat me down around my waist and my ankles. I actually thought nothing of it at the time, just let her do her thing, then grabbed my stuff and my shoes and went to where Hub was putting his shoes back on. We hurried along to find our gate, which seemed to be the last gate on that concourse, of course. Once we got there, we found seats and tried to stay occupied. We had about 45 minutes before boarding. I kept asking Hub if we needed to be in line for something because people kept lining up, but he said they were getting their seat assignments, which I had already done online when I booked the tickets. Also, I had checked in online (for both flights) the day before so it would save us some time and money.

They finally started boarding the flight. We were almost in the last group to board because our seats were in the back of the plane. I haven’t been on a plane in 17 years, so I forgot how small the aisles and seats are. And of course, I’ve got nicely padded hips…and our seats were in the back, so I had to pass alongside all the passengers already boarded. That kinda sucked. When we got to our seats, we found the person in the window seat was already there. Thank goodness he was a small guy, so I didn’t feel like I was smushed in between him and Hub, who is a big guy. We put up the arm rest between Hub and me, then I went to find my crochet in my bag. But I realized REALLY quickly that there was absolutely no elbow room to crochet. Ugh. I was really counting on that as part of my relaxation technique. So I swapped it for a book, then plugged in the headphones for my iPod and put the earphones over my ears. Were you aware that United uses their headrest tvs to show the safety video? It’s like a commercial and they tried to make it entertaining. Hub and I just rolled our eyes through the whole thing.

Lucky me, the little guy at the window seat kept his window shade open. So I pretty much had to crank my head toward Hub the whole flight. I clutched onto Hub as we took off, wrapping my arms around his arm so that I was pretty much attached to him. I did that almost every time I felt the plane bank, or there was turbulence, or we sped up or slowed down. I felt every single shift in the plane. Every single shift. I am so hyperaware of movement because of my vertigo and imbalance that I knew when the plane climbed higher or descended even a little. I tried to think of turbulence as pot holes, though that didn’t help very much (we had a good amount of turbulence as we ascended, then more during the length of the flight). I cranked my music and tried to sing along in my head. I tried to read but the book was terrible and I couldn’t concentrate. The woman in front of me put her seat back–of course–so I put my table tray down and just rested my head in my hand and my forehead against the back of her headrest (against the tv screen, technically). I had the little air blower from the ceiling on high, so that blew down the back of my neck and kept me relatively cool. I swayed my head to the music, tapped my fingers, and intermittently clutched at Hub as we flew. With the time zone change, I was having trouble tracking how long until we were supposed to land. At one point I was all happy because I thought we were going to start descending any minute, only to realize we had almost forty five minutes left. That was just less than half the flight. UGH. So back to the music I went, swaying and singing silently.

The pilot announced we were going to start descent, so of course I plastered myself to Hub, even though we still had twenty minutes before landing. I closed my eyes and just tried to ignore everything except the music I was blasting in my ears. The landing was hard and fast, and it felt like it took forever to slow down and stop. Everything was so loud…louder than I remembered from all those years ago. It took forever to get off the plane, because as I mentioned we were in the very back, just four rows from the bathrooms. It was interesting to watch the debarking process, because people were really patient and allowed other passengers to get off in order. All except ONE GUY who was sitting behind us who had jumped up as soon as he could, and instead of letting us out like he should, he pushed his way right up along our seats so Hub and I (and our seatmate) couldn’t get out in order like everyone else. SO RUDE, dude! I mean, really? How much faster were you going to get out by being an asshole?

Have you ever flown into O’Hare in Chicago? That mo’fo is HUGE. Walking to find the baggage area to get outside for pickup took forever. We used the moving sidewalks, too, but I was so tense on the plane and so squished into the seats that I was exhausted and in pain. It was kind of slow-going. But we had landed 30 minutes early (YES!) in comparison to the schedule, so we had some extra time to get outside. One of my brothers picked us up (along with some relatives coming in at the same time but via a different airline) and we were off to the hotel to meet my parents and change our clothes for the wedding.

Our flight out was an hour and forty minutes. The wedding itself, specifically, was thirty minutes long. Then we sat for ninety minutes in the reception room, as appetizers were circulated and the open bar, well, opened. I hadn’t eaten before flying (it was too early) and after we landed we went to the hotel. I had packed a tiny bag of gluten free cheese crackers, which I inhaled at the hotel (along with about six ounces of apple juice), but that was all I’d eaten all day. Unfortunately, every single appetizer was either breaded and fried, or had some sort of bread base (egg rolls, spanicopita, bruscetta), so I had nothing to eat again for those ninety minutes. I had two Shirley Temples and some water…and a few Hershey’s kisses that were on the table. That sucked. I was so hungry and I was getting a bad headache. Then the soup came out…but I can’t eat soup because it’s usually thickened with flour. But the waitress said they had some fruit, which she brought out for me and a few other people there who had allergies. That was some awesomely tasty fruit, ya’ll. 🙂 Then they served salad, which was good enough.

Luckily, my brother (it was my niece’s wedding) had arranged for a gluten free meal for me, which turned out to be pretty tasty. I was impressed because normally “gluten free” means plain and dry. But it was pretty okay, including a nice big baked potato, which I scarfed down like I was starving. They ended up bringing out chocolate mousse next, but I was too worried about being sick on the flight home that I didn’t eat it. Before we knew it, Hub and I were retrieving our bags from the car and changing back into our travel clothes in order to leave for the airport to fly home. When we went in to hurry around and say good bye, they were just serving the wedding cake (which I couldn’t eat anyway) along with what looked like ice cream or custard or something, and maybe some other small desserts. I’m not sure because we were already a few minutes behind schedule and it was more important to me to say good bye to my family than to see what we were missing dessert-wise. Then we were gone, on the road to heading home.

 

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Don’t pity me

I’m doing that just fine all on my own. Bleh.

Seriously, this is the first day I’ve been able to concentrate even a little bit. Prior, I was feeling very foggy and dizzy, and like my eyes wouldn’t focus. It was pretty horrible. Thursday I was trying to be a good girl and eat protein, so we had some deli turkey in the house in preparation. Turns out there’s something on there in the gluten range (maybe the seasoning? we don’t think we’ve bought this meat before, it was fresh-made at the store) that was affecting me and I spent most of Thursday suffering from hot-face, which made me miserable. It wasn’t until after I’d had some for dinner that I realized it was probably the turkey and I had to just wait it out. I didn’t start feeling that going away until sometime Friday mid-morning. Meanwhile, my sleep has been close to nil. That has been kind of horrible because it aggravates anxiety big-time, as all us anxiety sufferers know. My PVCs remain annoying…

I’m in some mild pain, but taking ibuprofen twice a day, just to help speed healing, I hope. Friday the doctor’s office called to check on me and the nurses warned me to be very aware of blood clot symptoms, especially with the weekend coming. She told me to not wait and go to the ER if I felt I had symptoms. So now I’m spending the majority of my time worrying about a blood clot. Fan-fucking-tastic. And apparently this is an issue for MONTHS after a surgery. So my leg is bothering me and it’s kind of freaking me out, but I am trying to remind myself that it’s probably a muscle ache and maybe must my knee hurting (which is normal for me). I’m afraid…there’s so much going on in my body, I have no idea how to identify what is normal and what is not. My heartburn is pretty bad (with accompany nausea!…yay), even though I’ve gone back on my regular digestive enzymes and probiotics…they haven’t really taken over yet. So that means I’ve got pain in my chest which radiates to my arms and back. And I have to decipher that as being different from being short of breath and in pain which could be a clot my lung (versus in the leg, of course). This has not been a good experience for me…I’m sure T is thinking “Ooooh, exposure therapy” but I’m thinking OMG how am I going to get through this?

I feel very split up about all this…trying to realize I had major surgery and still feeling like I’m supposed to be active to help heal. They’re all telling me to listen to my body, but my body LIES to me. So how am I supposed to know how much to rest and how much to do? I had major surgery and yet they sent me home five hours after. Which is it? Major surgery and rest, or get up and move? I’m FINALLY able to stand up and sit down without groaning from the pain and stretch, but it’s still uncomfortable.

Eating is difficult because of the nausea and the heartburn. I have no appetite, but I know without food I won’t gain stamina or energy. I’m trying to drink but I’m NEVER a good drinker so I’m sucking with that, too. Which apparently could lead to more potential blood clot issues. So much fear in my body at the moment. I told T when I had my phone appointment on Friday (which I could only talk for half an hour, I was so out of it) that I feel like I’m in the midst of anxiety even though I didn’t feel ANXIOUS. She said it’s my body responding to the trauma of the surgery…and to just try to use my tools even though it’s not really “anxiety”.

My head feels full and pressured. I have a headache (while I’m taking 800mg of ibuprofen…wtf is up with that?) and I’m so tired all the time. I want to be past all this NOW.

On top of all that, Hub has a really bad cold that came on Tuesday night. I’m SO lucky that I haven’t gotten sick yet, even though he’s feeding me and getting me drinks. It’s really really sucky, though, because he’s not touching me. No hugging, no kisses, no rubbing my back or my hands or my arms. No comfort. It’s a really big loss for me… I want so much to be soothed and because we’re trying to keep me from getting the cold, I feel bereft and alone.

Like I said, I’m doing a find job of pitying myself. And now the eye floaters are back, so I’m done here.

 

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Still here

I’m still here. It’s been a busy couple of weeks as we prepped for our charity event. Then immediately following, I was with my Mom as she went for another appointment to find out about the results of her CT scan (good!) and to get blood work drawn for the trial she is participating in. I got to see the nurses again, and in particular give one of them a giant hug for taking such good care of my mother through all of her infusions. We were lucky to get the same nurse for 4 of the six infusions, and I say lucky because she was really fabulous. I hugged her a couple of times and tearfully thanked her, and then I gave her a hat that I crocheted for her. But I reminded her it was a winter hat, not a chemo hat…and that I hoped it would remind her of the wonderful work she does for the people who come into her care.

On a slightly more BLEH note, I’m unhappy. In therapy with T, I’m telling her that I feel stuck because I don’t want to fail. If I don’t pick a path, then I don’t have to think about failing. I’m tired of failing. I have a whole list of failures behind me, and when I think of what to do next, I just feel like I can’t take one more failure. So if I don’t DO anything, I don’t fail. T wanted me to sit and think of the good things that came from my “failures” because none of them are really failures, they are lessons learned. I’m still in a place where I disagree, so I guess I’m not ready to broach that with myself. So T suggested that she thinks I’m afraid to hope…that this is what is underlying the failure. But I don’t know what it is I’m afraid to hope for? Not failing? Ech.

Another failure is that I’ve gained a bunch of weight. From the time we adopted Butthead in May of 2013, I’ve been slowly gaining back the weight I lost when I was sick and not eating in fall of 2012. I’d maintained a 45 pound weightloss right up until we adopted Butthead. Then I was so stressed and wanting some kind of pleasant distraction from her that I ate. I slowly gained ten pounds. Then ten more. Then when I got that crappy cold a few weeks ago, I ate so much (salty) pre-made soup and broth and stuff, that I gained more weight. I thought it would ease off when I stopped eating that stuff, but instead I’ve been snacking on junk. I think it’s because I’m not wanting to deal with stuff in therapy and eating is a distraction from that, too. Plus, the release of a lot of time spent focusing on my mom’s infusions is gone, too. Now her recovery is stretched out over months and months, and I’m at a loss as to how to figure out my own life again. And I feel like crap. I feel bloated and uncomfortable, which is making me unhappy and cranky. I’m also having some pain flares, so that isn’t helping me either. Bad dreams, not sleeping. What else can I add to my list? Oh yeah, and a couple of anxiety issues, mostly overnight or late at night when I should be sleeping and instead am sitting up feeling anxious.

Hub is stressed with stuff going on at work and I feel like there is so much falling by the wayside here at home. Which stresses me out even more. So I’ve been avoiding everything. And eating. And wondering what the hell I’m going to talk about at therapy on Friday, because I have no answers. No path. No idea what direction to go in. Just stagnant and stressed.

Woo hoo. NOT.

 

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