The end of May 2015

Charlie is doing pretty well. We've had a few hiccups this past week. One, he had a nail to split vertically again, so we had to make a fast trip to the groomer. Apparently it hurt quite a bit, because he tried to nip Mr. Jon. He really does have the best groomer though - Mr. Jon turned off the nail trimmer and said calmly "Charlie, you do not nip. No bite. I love you. Give me your paw." and Charlie covered his face in kisses and obeyed. (I was still mortified!) Mr. Jon said it was really unlike him, and that he knew Charlie was hurting.

Friday we went to get my mom's car out of the shop, and another customer had their small dog in their lap. Charlie acted as if he had never seen another dog before, and like he hasn't spent the past two years on training his special skills. I backed out of the door with him as soon as we had walked in, and made him lay in down stay until he reset. I ended up dislocating my wrist really badly and that put me in a sour mood for the rest of the day. It's still pretty tender to the touch.

Yesterday Charlie and I had to get some groceries. He performed perfectly as if Friday had never happened. (I guess even service dogs have bad days.) One of our favorite cashiers at Publix insisted we come into his lane - the ten items or less lane - even though I had a regular cart. He swapped out his sign for a regular one and had a bag boy load up the stuff onto the belt for me. It was such a relief. I usually hate accepting help, but my wrist was still hurting and it was really nice to be able to actually see the stuff ring up on the screen. Usually I'm doing my best to put everything up on the belt fast enough for them to ring it up. We got help loading the car too - and I think the teenage girl that helped us was super professional and polite. I took Charlie off duty and had him in a down stay in the back seat. I asked her if she'd like to pet him, because he was off duty now and she gave him a kiss on his forehead! I love publix. Good people and plenty of support for me.

My unemployment has come to an end, and I'm still in the initial stages of trying to get disability. I'm really worried about it. I've been trying hard to fight for my best mental health in the meantime, but I'm really fighting with all I've got right now.

I've knit a few things this month, which for me is an accomplishment! My most recent finished project is a shawl. The pattern is the Stormcloud Shawlette by Hanna Breetz, available on ravelry.com for free.

No Job October!

So the big news this month is I am no longer gainfully employed.

I am staying on at work until the 24th as a favor to my employer, because another co-worker is on FMLA. I'm not sure what prompted me to agree to stay on longer, because I really am at the end of myself.

I had a very hard week so far, and I think Charlie is going to sprout more gray hairs.
*My car broke down and is going to take a few hundred to fix.
*Charlie hurt himself badly under his left arm, and can't wear his harness right now.
*Fleas have stepped up their game and now all our cats have them.

I am avoiding social media right now because I can't get a grip on what to think/say/do, so if you miss me - I'm sorry.

Leaving work yesterday was awful. There is no trace of me here - and everything I've worked for over the past two years seems in vain. I sacrificed self, family, fun, health and home all to be the best I could be at work - and it's moving on without me. It's just a lot to process.

I love you, dear reader. Please be gentle with yourself and try not to worry about me. I'm just going to take it at whatever pace I am given, while I try to decide what to do next.

OCD.

 Short haired tabby bathed and toweled dry and combed. Check.

Long haired tabby combed down, bathed, blown dry and combed again? Done.

Dog bathed, toweled dry? Check and check.

Human bathed? Nope. Still waiting on the towels to dry. Poor kitties peed on the bath mats from anxiety while being dried. Let that be a lesson to us all, Spoonies included: flea prevention takes more than pills. 

I've been so &@$? Tired lately that I stopped cleaning the porches, and can't remember when I last vacuumed. I've let shoes and jackets be tossed around and left wherever, and now we have had some fleas. I know we tracked them in, and without my rules in place, they stayed and found hosts on the cats. What's so sad is I didn't notice the cats were uncomfortable, because I've been falling asleep as soon as I get home from work. Mom noticed one on Charlie.

 There's nothing as disgusting feeling as an animal caregiver than to let fleas or other parasites in. It's moments like these that my compulsions work me past reason, because it know I will not sleep tonight, even though I worked a full day, and will work another full day tomorrow. I must clean until I feel better. Bleach and essential oils will come out, the cat trees will be flea bombed, every cloth thing I can wash will be run through the washer on hot with bleach or bleach alternative. The tub will be scrubbed with comet, even though it sets off my asthma, because my brain will itch, telling me that the fleas will breed somehow.

All because I stopped my compulsions and over zealousness in favor of rest.

I drive myself and my husband crazy. I'm always moving everything he owns, because I don't want shoes tracking in dirt, bacteria or parasites in to the carpets. I change as soon as I get home, and toss my clothes in the wash, because I've been exposed to all sorts of things during the day. One of the most disgusting things I can think of is sliding in to bed in the same clothing you've worn in the outside world. Socks especially. And laying down for a nap? You better be napping on the couch, not in or on the bed! That's just on a normal day.

Things have been so far beneath my level of comfortable and clean this month that I haven't been making myself food. When I eat at home, it's on disposable stuff because I don't know that the dishes are cleaned to my level of okay. That makes me uncomfortable too, because I'm killing the planet in favor of phobia.

OCD isn't cute, or a turn of phrase for liking things your way. It's a beast that commands you past your limits, berating you and scaring you the whole way. It tells you things like "you will end up on tv for how you live, as an example of how life falls apart unless you fix this!", "you missed a spot. You didn't leave the cleaner on there long enough. You will make everyone sick unless you clean it right!", "give up. You can't do it right! Why are you even trying to fix this? You'll die because you can't clean it. It will be your fault your cat dies from not cleaning this up. If you leave those dishes, you will never get them clean enough. You will die of ecoli. Throw your plates away. You can never bleach off what you left on there." And other horrible things.

Most days I feel in control of my impulses, and I don't see the sense in trying to get help for it because compared to my physical problems, who has time to talk about this stuff and address it as real? I know I don't have money for psych visits! But then there's days like today, where finding a flea on the dog and then seeing the cats scratch sends me over the edge, and I will keep plugging along like a machine, or empty shell of desperation to try and make myself feel clean enough, and my world "okay". 

I know as long as I live with my husband I will never ever have a home that is clean enough for me. If left to my own devices in times like tonight, it's "normal" to see me scrubbing a counter for 3 hours with bleach. I will physically hurt myself with exhaustion and repetitive actions for cleaning/fixing, just to "feel better" mentally.

...and tonight it's all because of a flea.

It's been a long time!

How many tags can I add to one post?!

Here's my update from this month:

I've been under a "gag order" at work, so I can't update much there - except to say "stay tuned for October!"

I went on a weekend getaway with my bestest buddy, J, and our mutual friends paid for us to spend the weekend in Orange Beach, AL with our friend Mrs. Sam. (I have a Mrs. Sam friend and a completely different and unrelated Mr. Sam friend.) Charlie got to experience sand under his paws, a cafe with dogs off leash, and our mutual favorite: a few rides on Mrs. Sam's boat!

We had such a time convincing him to get his butt in the boat the first time! I don't think we would have made it if not for Mrs. Sam and her husband, as well as J and me physically getting him onboard. When the wind whipped up, and he realised staying in the shade on the towel in "down, stay" resulted in a smooth ride, where he could enjoy the salt air and watch the waves without getting wet, he was HOOKED! The next day, I asked him: "Charlie, wanna go on the boat?" and he practically flung himself down the stairs to get to the back door, where we came in from the dock the previous afternoon.

I felt so lazy and loved that weekend. Mrs. Sam and her husband made such delicious food, and we played with yarn. Mrs. Sam let us each pick which guest room we wanted to bunk in, and my bed felt like a snuggly hug on a cloud. We got a sand castle pail with yarn and other neat goodies in it! She is one of the most generous, funny and loving hostesses (and friend) a gal could wish for! We watched their horse race on TV, and she came in 2nd place. Here's hoping she'll come in 1st next time! :D

I've made 2 pairs of socks this month...well, almost. I have to put the heels in the first pair and finish off the second sock. Progress though!

I met with a bone specialist about my limited use in my hands. Come to find out, I have up to 20% usage of them. He wants me to start occupational therapy, and if we see no improvement, I'm looking at having to have surgery on them to tack the ligaments and tendons back into place where they should be and stay. Not good. Since we know it's a connective tissue disorder I have, the doctor is really not happy about the prospect of surgeries. He said I will have to go to UAB or possibly somewhere more presigious out of state to get it done by a surgeon whose whole practice is dedicated to hand surgeries, and in all liklihood, I will have to repeat the process in some years to come.

I now have a walker - I have to use it whenever Charlie and I aren't together. I feel a bit safer with it, at least indoors, because I have somewhere to park my butt when I'm feeling faint - and I also have something on both sides of me to keep me upright. When I'm with Charlie, I know he will help me or find help if I need it, and he can now be trusted to carry things for me, so he's a huge help - plus I get a lot less pity with Charlie and a cane than I do when I have my walker. Another huge perk to Charlie is I don't have to put him in the car, he gets in himself - the walker's a pain and a half to get in and out of the car, just because I end up popping all over, and people keep offering to help me do it - which weirds me out, because uhm...I don't know them, and they're helping me at my car. Makes my brain think of those old 1990's episodes of the Oprah Show where she talks about how to get away from attackers by twisting your arm just so - and if you get thrown in a trunk to kick the taillight out. And then I hear Sandra Bullock in my head from "Ms. Congeniality" go through her routine on stage on how to disable an attacker, and I think: "Can I do that, or will I hurt myself more than I hurt them?". Ugh.

Another adventure from this month makes me wonder if a study has been done on service dog handlers. My dad is disabled, and went with my mom to get a new ID this month. They took Charlie with him while I was at work, and everyone commented to dad "What a handsome dog!", and left it at that. No one tried to touch Dad or Charlie. When my mom or I have Charlie, people come up and invade our space all the time. The creepiest and most destructive is when someone brushes up like a pickpocketer and touches one of us. It's so super creepy and unsettling! I end up being really mean and saying "Don't touch!" or "Stop touching us now!" loudly. I don't understand why people don't see that's creepy! And it's rewarding Charlie, when all "on duty love" needs to come from me, his handler. My health is pretty brittle, and I need his attention and protection. He can handle my "episodes" and get my meds or help. It's scary enough to think I could have a "nervous system reboot" and be vulnerable without society reinforcing that my body and personal space doesn't belong to me. We're not a "cute dog team", we're a "working dog team". I don't know how to handle this right now. Any tips?

Lots of love xoxo
-Beth

Does the mind rule the body?

I saw a specialist today. It was 5 hours at his clinic! I lost count of how many people in scrubs saw my tatas today! haha

I think the most disturbing aspect of today was actually my doctor! (Not that I didn't find his to be particularly brilliant or caring - I did!) He sounded exactly like Leonard Nimoy.

I'll let you imagine lifting your shirt and dropping your bluejeans to be medically examined by Leornard Nimoy. (My husband said he looked like him too, only about 20 years younger than him)

How's your mind handling that mental picture and scenario? Here! Let me help!

 

Anyway, it was totally worth it. I've finally got a diagnosis to explain why I keep passing out! I have a diagnosis of "Neurocardiogenic Syncope". Apparently my brain doesn't know how to regulate my heart rate and blood pressure in coordination with each other, and I will be adding two new medications to my regimen, and salt with everything I eat, in order to keep my blood pressure raised up to the normal people's level.

I'm really relieved to have an answer.

ALSO - on friday I had a HORRIFYING doctor visit. My mom summed it up best - "You know how there are doctors who graduate at the top of their class and field? This one barely graduated." If mom hadn't lost her temper I would have been up the creek. This doctor made me feel like I was a moron, that I didn't take care of myself, that my issues are negligible and not worth attention or help, and I cried the entire visit. Mom losing her temper resulted in us getting in the manager's office, and them taking a deposition of all I was told by the doctor, including her HORRIBLE advice to stop taking my medications cold turkey. They assured us she wouldn't be working with their clinic anymore and then they gave me my co pay back! That made me feel a little better. She was just a temporary doctor for the clinic because my regular doctor has quit practicing medicine. No idea what's going on there.

So, all in all, I think it worked out for the best. The only useful information I got on friday was that my Vitamin D level 3 months ago was 18. That awful doctor said "So you've got Rickets, which is great by the way. Congratulations."

Another day another dollar and a headache to boot.

Here I am, closing up shop on another day.

I'm still covering for my supervisor while she's on vacation. Let's just say, I can bet money they're not paying her enough! Ha! Today has been frantic and fast paced, even when it normally would have slowed down. We're already gearing into summer - all the local schools have let out. That means blood and platelet donations will be down again, because everyone will be so busy with their own lives that they leave the donating to everyone else, but everyone else will do the same. So in the mean time we will do what all blood donation centers do - brain storm and pray that this summer will be different.

I'm supposed to be going home now, but I just got a call from Husband, who has been in charge of Charlie all day. The car won't start. The battery is fine, the oil is fine. That's the extent of our knowlege when it comes to cars. I'm so tired. I don't want to be a downer, but it's hard not to be a whiner and say, "When is it my turn for good stuff to happen?!"

Mom to the rescue. Again.

Tell me honestly - is this what age 28 is supposed to be like? Because I had it in my mind so differently! I had it all mapped out that I would be working, and healthy, and actually have a savings account - that I would be helping my parents. Instead, I'm perpetually ill and in need of a hand out.

Rain, Rain, go away!!!

I planted roses in a bucket 2 months ago. I bought them, after reading the label: "Blooms in June - August. Shocking Pink long stemmed roses". It was just a bag of dirt with a thorny stick protruding.

I suck at gardening. The best I've ever done was keep an African Violet plant for a year, but now that I have cats that eat plastic shopping bags and any plant regardless of danger, I no longer have inside flowers. The roses reminded me of the ones I carried down the aisle. I had always dreamed of a solid bouquet of bright pink rose blooms, with white silk and pearls. I got my wish.

So imagine my delight when the first blooming bud appeared two days ago! Yay! I can grow a Rose!!!

An awful weekend.

Hi there.

How was your weekend?

Mine sucked. Let's start with a little bit of back story:
I've been having trouble with dizzieness, nausea and fainting over the past month. I've been sent home from work several times, and have had a heart monitor on - but my heart checks out ok.

I hate Mothers' Day weekend. The radio, tv, all social media keep going on and on about it. I don't attend church on Mothers' Day because I've been sidelined by phrases like: "Happy Mothers Day to a future mom!" and "Your day will come, honey! Just pray harder!". I hate sitting in the pew, and the pastoral staff having all the 1st time mothers, then veteran mothers, then grandmothers with the most offspring all stand and be given flowers, as if it's a pagent. I hate it.
I've pretty much come to grips with the truth that I won't be a mom. It is one of my dearest wishes to be one, but it's not genetically wise, and also I have infertility - so I'm not fighting it anymore. Still, it hurts the worst on Mothers' Day. So I avoided church, and Charlie and I were at our friends A&W's townhome just chilling and watching HGTV and the Food Network all day.

It got to be about 4pm, so I left their place and we got on the highway to go home. When we got to the exit before ours, my hands were completely numb, and I just had a nausea sweep over me. I pulled over at the local Starbucks and tried to refresh myself, thinking I was just feeling faint again. When I felt a little better, and my hands were only tingly, I decided it would be smart to stop by my parents' house and cool off.

As soon as I turned into their driveway (only about a mile from the last stop), I didn't have the strength to put the car in park. I nudged it into neutral, and tried to use my cell phone to call my mom. My hands were so numb and shaky that I dropped the phone on the pavement and it broke open. I tried to get out of the car, and ended up easing onto the pavement to rest, with my feet still in the car. Charlie was clawing at the back door, knowing he is supposed to stay in his seat until told otherwise. My vision went fuzzy around the edges, so I called him to me, and he lept like Rin TinTin through the seats (giving himself a rugburn mark from the seatbelt), and landing like a cat over me, without injuring me. He started licking anything he could reach, and whining. When he came through, my foot his the horn. "Ok.", my tired brain said, "Hit it as much as you can and see if someone gets mad enough to find you."

"Charlie. Get help.", I rasped. He left me, and I could hear him clawing at the back door. My vision really did go out, and my hearing was not normal. I kept trying to hit the horn as much as I could. I was scared that Charlie wouldn't come back to me, but I knew there wasn't anything I could do about it if he didn't. Not a soul seemed to hear us. Charlie came running back to me, and nibbled my ear. My head was swimmy, but I rolled over to him, and he tugged my pants and got my foot on the ground. I put my arm through the loop on his Service Dog In Training vest, instead of holding it like a handle, and he half led, half dragged me to the front door. I know he was as scared as I was, because I could see his big eyes, and he was acting like a completely focused animal, not at all like his goofy self.

Apparently he was able to make enough commotion at the front door, and as soon as the door came open I fell into my parents' arms. The next thing I solidly remember is complaining that my arm hurt, and the nurse telling me that my vein blew in my arm and the iv wasn't working. Apparently I fought through the entire thing to stay awake, and had given myself a fit of hysterics, making the situation worse. The ER doctor wrote in my medical file that I was there for dehydration and depression. Have you ever heard of someone having trouble with fainting because of depression??? I haven't!

If it wasn't for my parents, my good friend Alberta and a bit of help from my husband, I don't know what would have happened to me. I don't remember the ambulance, and I don't really remember being at the ER for 5 hours. It seemed like maybe an hour to me, because I kept coming in and out of it.

I guess it's time to get a medical ID bracelet after all. God knows if this happens away from my family, I would be in a real spot of trouble!!!

I was so proud of Charlie. I can hardly believe a pound puppy can do such an amazing thing, to fight for his human's safety. When I came home, I was completely exhausted, but we have a picture on my dad's camera of Charlie sitting next to me, leaning in and grinning from ear to ear.


I tell Charlie all the time that the people who gave him to the pound were so stupid to give him up. He is an amazingly sweet boy, and so funny. I feel like I might still be in the driveway at my parents' house if Charlie hadn't insisted on dragging me with him. Every time I fell and hit the pavement, he would lick me, and gently tug forward, like "C'mon! Only a few more steps!" I don't know why he loves me, but I'm really REALLY thankful that we have such a bond now. I totally trust him to help me get through my day, and he still has so much more to learn before he's an official service dog.

I'm sorry I don't have pictures with this, and it's so long of an update. My doctor has seen me, and is ordering a Tilt Table test, so check for dysautonomia/POTS. Until later, I remain your Beth.

Lots of projects going on....

Just a grand ol' update here!

Work) I have a new boss - the one that was driving me into an early grave has been removed from the company. Our new boss is going to gain control of our group in 2 more months - for right now we have the blessing of our old boss, he's one of my friends that came to Charlie Majors' birthday party - A&W is his married nickname. (he's the w)
I have had a LOT of work since returning from my medical leave, because it seems two or more coworkers are always out.

Home) I don't really want to talk about home - I haven't been able to do many of the daily tasks that need doing, and it is not a welcoming environment right now. We've bought veggies and fruit, and it keeps going bad because I never have the energy to cook anymore.

Church) Charlie and I went to Mass, and he behaved very well! I only had to bribe him with 4 treats, because he started vocally complaning about the length of the service, and I wanted to keep him silent. Father Ray gave me a hug and Charlie a pat on the head, and said how glad he was that I came back, and it's nice to meet Charlie. That made me feel really good, because I'm super self concious that people are going to be distracted by us as a team in Church - and the last thing I would ever want to do is draw attention away from worship!

Charlie and the cats) Charlie is still the bottom of the totem pole at both my parents' house and our apartment. Mayhem will sometimes snuggle up against his hiney if he and we pretend we don't see her doing it. Smokey and Mischief have NO use for him, and will swipe at him if he gets too close.
Charlie's picked up some new commands! "Circle" is the most useful one to me right now. If he is facing the opposite of the way I need him to be, I can tell him to circle and he will adjust himself! The other main one we're working on is commanding him to go to specific people, and to hold things in his mouth until I'm ready for it. He still helps me get dressed every day, and that has become something I rely on him for! It's a really huge thing to not need that help from my husband anymore.

Chronic Illnesses) Still waiting on the %&*# Cardiologist. I can't be tested for Epilepsy or Post Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome until I see him. The Geneticist refuses to answer my calls, so I still haven't been assessed with anything official other than his observations and the "diagnosis" from the Rheumatologist. I'm still feeling very faint when I am vertical, but I'm still having to drive myself to work, because I get to work at least 5 hours after my husband most of the week. My GP took me off caffiene and I have had such a killer headache since. I'm in major withdrawal. I cheated today and got a Sweet Tea from McDonalds, and Husband FREAKED out over it. "You're gonna collapse like you did last week! That cup will kill you!"
How does he waffle from not believing me to be ill, to believing and using some form of escape from facing reality, to facing reality and being sweet about it, and then freaking out about every single thing related to the management of my conditions? That baffles me. He can pick any of those moods at any moment.

Crafting projects) I am currently knitting a shawl and another pair of socks. This month I've made 2 complete pairs of socks, and several hexipuffs for my someday "Bee Keeper's Quilt" by Stephanie Dosen. I'm feeling productive with that, so that's something nice. I can knit while I'm working, because I do phone work and my supervisor said if I can prove my productivity and professional tone is not compromised that I may continue to do so. Yay! Knitting at work. Every knitter's dream, no?
I went to Stitches South with my Mom and met some of my best online friends! They're in the Posse. I didn't have much to spend, but I did splurge and buy myself a couple of ounces of super soft blended wool and tencel fiber. I'm hoping to spin up some special single ply fingering weight yarn to make into some hexipuffs.

That's all for now, I guess! I'm sorry I don't have any pictures for you! Someone (not sure if cats or dog) ate the power cord to my iPad, so it's without any power at the moment.

I just want to be ok

I have gone back to work and my former routine. I'm in need of the break I had as a permanent change, or I need a change in my medications to deal with it all. I'm sorry I haven't posted. I haven't taken any pictures lately either.

Charlie and I went to Mass for the first time last night. I tried to sit in a spot that wouldn't be a distraction to anyone. (Apparently it was our annual Return to Confession service) He did really well. I only had to stage whisper to him twice - other than that, he followed my hand signals for standing, sitting and laying down. The young mom in front of our pew accidentally dropped her container of cheerios for her toddler, and it spilled in front of charlie. He obeyed my whisper, even though he really wanted it, and he left the "treat" alone. Then, when it was time for private confession, apparently where I was sitting was to become a confessional for the guest priest, so Charlie and I left. There were so many people there, I knew I couldn't stand in line, and so I just left. I'm the first to admit to you I'm not a great Catholic, but God is a great God. I'm hoping he can understand and forgive me for not staying.

I've just been really depressed and depleted since my return to work. As soon as I got back, I had to catch up on everything I'd missed, and cover for a co-worker who is recovering from a double mastectomy. Then, unexpectedly, our part time coworker broke her leg in two places and is out, so I'm also doing her job. I'm not doing such a great work of any of it. On top of that, MetLife is refusing my application I submitted before my leave of absence, and I'm now owing the company 40+ hours of PTO I haven't even earned yet, otherwise I wouldn't get a paycheck. So now I'm united with my Supervisor and HR rep, arguing with MetLife that I AM eligible, and DID apply in time.

My Grandma's health keeps getting worse, my sister lost her job, my other sister is on the other half of the globe and I just want to be with them. I want to go back to childhood before my health made it so hard to move, and before I was ever depressed.

I'm sorry for no updates. I am trying.

Feeling like myself again.

First, a huge thank you shout out to Mr. Swanson for sending Charlie a specially selected homemade version of a barkbox!!!

Charlie still hasn't finished the rawhide stick! That's a first!!! Usually rawhide treats last up to two hours only!!

Thank you!! 

--------------------------------------------

I had a visit from my dear friend JM yesterday, and was able to go to knit group today! I'm feeling much more like what I think of as how I should feel.

 Every day I've gotten up at whatever time my body decides. Some days it's before 7am, and others it's around 11, but then I get up gently, and go feed all the critters...Zeus outside, mischief and mayhem and then Charlie inside. I wash my face, and sit on the side of the tub to comb my hair, and then I walk with Charlie back to the bedroom to put on day clothes and make the bed. Charlie brings me everything I ask for (some days with only one request, and other days it takes quite a bit of coddling). By this time, the inside cats are done eating and eager to "help me make the bed" aka run like wild beasts under the sheets chasing out wrinkles and playfully grabbing the blanket as it settles down.

Then it's my turn to actually eat. I've been washing face, combing hair, and EATING every day of my leave (except those first two days. I slept). I'm very proud of this. Most days while working I've been washing my face, throwing on clothes and dealing with my hair in stop and go nightmare morning traffic. NOT girly or professional at all! And then I just sleep all weekend, leaving all the chores undone. No dishes or clothes washed, no bed made, nothing done.

 ...So I take my first three daily pills with Breakfast.

Then I sit until I feel better, but it's not so bad because I have Charlie who is willing to play gently or bring me the remote or iPad, and I have mayhem to use as a heating pad, and mischief to look at (she really is pretty....and a touch me not to boot! )

When I feel better, it's usually time to take Charlie out and feed him his elevensies (he eats like a hobbit! 4 or more times a day...a cup at a time) and maybe get his help loading the dryer, or taking him outside so we can both try to get vitamin d exposure (the lab results came I and I'm very very low on vitamin d. 1000 iui wasn't registering in the recent blood work, and I've been on it quite awhile.)

Then I am tired again, and give myself permission to be tired and lazy, because I have paperwork saying I have to be restful or I will not be allowed back at work, so I chill out and watch Charlie gnaw a bone, or we watch a nature documentary with lions or dogs. My stomach rumbles, and yay! It's a whole ten steps to the kitchen instead of a long walk, elevator ride, long walk and scarf it down because you have 20 minutes plus more walking to make sure you're at your desk on time.

I take as much time as I need for my throat to accept the food, and I'm not left feeling bruised and exhausted, because I took the time to eat each bite so I don't pop my jaw, like I do I while hurrying. It's time for the next round of meds, and I fight it just a bit, because I don't want to sleep while I'm alone with Charlie,because he's a baby and needs full attention.

After that, I might wipe the big counter and load my few dishes, and then rest and knit, or practice commands with Charlie, but at 3pm, I know to expect husband home, and when he does come home, Charlie bursts to full life and activity, rough housing with him and I know I can nap if I need to. 

That's just half a day. 

I love my career, and feel like I am helping to save lives. I'm looking forward to going back. I will be honest that I feel much more rested here at home, and it's refreshing to take this sabbatical. <3

Charlie has been busy!

I'm still on medical leave from work.

Charlie has been a great comfort to me. He's picked up all sorts of things he's never encountered before! A bowl, my iPad mini (it was on its side), an empty egg carton, a small Tupperware dish! He's been helping with the laundry, getting my shoes and practicing at curbs with me.

Charlie has also been busy eating cow bones, playing ball, tugging rope, catching his baby doll mid-air, and catching up on sleep and episodes of "too cute!" On netflix.

Today was a huge day hat left me physically drained, and I was really glad to have him with me. I wonder sometimes if he gets overwhelmed leading such an active life with me...or if he regrets picking me at the shelter. He doesn't seem to, but I am starting to really count on his help.

Here's a picture of my special boy!

He wanted my eggplant "Parmesan" (gluten and dairy free alternative)! No begging, buddy boy!

Still affirming.

Two pics of me from my past, and an affirmation.

Another affirmation during my sabbatical.

Another affirmation during my sabbatical.

And that's all I've got to say about that.

And one of my daily affirmations

2 weeks...

I saw the doctor today. I've been put on two weeks leave from work, to focus on my health. I'm not gonna lie, it's a hard pill to swallow to admit that all my efforts over the past few month haven't been enough to pull me through, and they also haven't helped me take care of myself. All my efforts have backfired on me, and it's causing a faster breakdown.

sigh.

I wonder if I'll finally have the energy to make food for myself. I wonder if I'll get anything done. I wonder if I'm going to have renewed energy to try again and have better balance, or if this time off is going to reassure me that I really do need to fight tooth and nail for disability again.

I've got two weeks to figure it out.

Non verbal again.

My patient companion. <3

Broken keychains

I have been though 6 keychains this month. It's only the 6th!

I don't know what kind of evil my handbag is working on my keys in order to break the keychain fob off, but it just keep happening! I have a little pile of broken keychain bits on my dresser.

I'm at work and I'm thinking only about being in bed. My pain has flared during the night and the new round of pills I swallowed at breakfast haven't kicked in yet.

I'm aggrivated at our TCBY. It never has the Silk option for frozen yogurt, and I got a coupon for free yogurt for my birthday and so I'm pouting. Apparently my pout is lasting all week! At least Starbucks never lets me down. I got a Mocha frappuchino with soy and no whip this morning, and Mmmm, Mmmm, Mmmm! It's awesome. I plan on going to Jason's Deli and getting a sandwich today for lunch. I have a coupon for $5 off any item, and I'm thinking it sounds pretty tasty.

I love birthdays. I have to work on mine though. Saturday suckage. I'd rather just be in soft jimjams and messy hair, pain managed, curled up on the sofa chair with my kitties and Charlie at my feet eating a bone. At least I get to hang with my Mommy after work. We're going to go shoe shopping if the energy lasts! Yay!

I got a "new" organizing book from the thrift store. It's from the 1980's, but I'm hopeful it will have ideas that haven't been "pinned" to death across Pinterest. I'm a sucker for organization, self improvement and time management books/magazines/ideas.

My friend Ann went through surgery yesterday and I haven't heard how it went. I'm worried about her because although her personality is bubbly and her soul is tough as nails to make it through any challenge, she strikes me as a very physically fragile person. Like a bird - beautiful, but delicate. I'm really worried about her.

I feel like my keychain pile. I got stuck in an OCD/Anxiety/Insomnia loop night before last and only got 3 hours of sleep. I told husband if he put anything on our large kitchen counter I would muster the energy to beat him with whatever I can get my hands on. I was looped into sanitizing the counter, and after being in gloves with bleach water for 2 hours the last thing I want is to think about even a speck of dust landing on it. I'm so super sore from it that I think it's amping up the unreasonableness of my need to keep everything from touching it. On the good side of it, I did put the small bookshelf that's only waist high by our front door and now husband has a big basket to put all his little accessories and such that seem to swirl about him like pigpen's dirt (from "Peanuts" comic strip). I won't have to move them, and he won't have to constantly ask where his stuff is. It's just going to be "Check your basket, babe. I bet it's there."

Looks like my coffee break's over. Time to stand on my head. Be gentle, my Spoonies. Make today worth living for yourself and others!

The fight for "Control" and "Normal"

I'm paying for the long weekend excursion of the Birthday party.

It's not pretty.

For the first time ever I've given in to the pain and I'm wearing my bulky white "LOOK AT ME!!!!" cervical collar at work. Learning to honor my body's limitations is a biotch. I constantly juggle pride, pain, need and wants all in the effort to achieve "Control" and "Normal". I read an awesome article that related chronic illness and embarrassment and it sums it up in a very healthy way. (http://chroniccurve.tumblr.com/post/15070372449/embarrassment-and-chronic-illness)

I came in to work, pulled up in the parking lot and all I could remember was the fight I had with myself the first time I used my cane in the work place:

Brain: "Everyone's going to stare at you."
Beth: "They won't stare for more than a moment in shock."
Brain: "They're going to want to know what happened. If you were in an accident. They're going to be nosy and you'll have to answer them all."
Beth: "They're going to be curious and worried for me. They're not going to be nosy. I'll just have to tell them.
Brain: "You know it's not fair that you have to advocate everywhere you go. Just keep the cane in the car. You only wobble a bit, the pain is nothing. You've hidden pain before. You haven't fallen this week. You can just keep it in the car."
Beth: "Bite me. I'm going in."


When I got inside, of course I clocked in as fast as I could, used the least used hallways, ducked into bathrooms when I heard footfalls and finally arrived at my cubicle. I was able to get by without a single comment for all of 30 minutes.

People are naturally curious. It's not a sin or a shortcoming. It's a gift. It helps us check into the softer side of our nature with compassion or to analyze problems. Sometimes curiosity leads to great discoveries.

It's hard to choke back pride and the desire for self resiliance when your body is failing you though. It's hard to push on with bravado when you don't want anyone to pry. The first encounter with someone commenting on my cane was a trusted friend at work and he saw me walking from up ahead of him. "I don't like that, Ms. Beth!" he called out. I answered as cockily as I could with a wink: "Nobody asked you. I love the butterfly design." (He only meant he didn't like that my illness was affecting me so much.)

I'm constantly facing the truth that I can't really fight for "Normal" and "Control". It will burn me faster than jumping into a bonfire. I battled the choice to get a service dog for so long I've driven everyone I know to the brink of their ability to be patient with my waffling back and forth! And then it was: "Do I go with this agency? Do you think we can go without one? Can we afford a dog? Will work allow it, or will they find a way to phase out my job posistion (like what happened to a dear friend)?"

Every single day is full of choices. Sometimes I get so freaking sick of all the 50/50 of my life. Today's choice was unbearable pain in my neck, or open myself up to comments and concern but be in less pain. I chose less pain.

I'm the farthest thing from a role model, but Spoonies, PLEASE choose in favor of honoring your health - be it mental or physical. Otherwise your body/mind will beat you to a pulp. I promise the comments and concern sting less than the flames of a bonfire that will burn around you if you chase "Normal" or being in "Control".

Non verbal day