I know we all have people like this in our lives. I've noticed it a bit more today. Ever have those friends or acquaintances who love to share in all your bad news but have nothing good to say when you have great, amazing news?
Sure it's nice to have someone commiserate when things are going poorly but a true friend can be happy for you too. I've noticed some people who never seem happy when another has found fortune and instead will make backhanded comments like "gee I wish *I* was doing XYZ." Well, if that is what you wish to do, then why don't you do it?
I understand some folks are down and out and unable to muster the happy feelings for a friend during their own times of crises, but when it is a constant thing, I kind of wonder about this person. It's such a waste of time and energy to be envious towards someone because you perceive their lives to be better. Why not put that emotion into bettering your own life? It's insulting to the people in your life if you think your life sucks and it could be so much better.
I think I used to be this kind of person. But when I felt that my life was shit, I made changes. I prayed. I had faith and opened myself up to seeing the good things around me instead of the shitty things. Once I did that, guess what? My life got better. I quit envying others and started to be really grateful for what I had. Happy for what I can still do instead of what I can no longer do.
Yesterday my husband came home from a doctor's appointment and told me about a man he met in the waiting room. This huge man was covered in gang tattoos and had his little two month old daughter with him. My husband started talking to him about his daughter, sharing with him that he was expecting his own little girl this fall. They got to talking about the man's tattoos, many he acquired while doing 18 years in prison. This man was from Compton and moved to KS after doing his time in order to make a new life for himself and his children. With his prison history and tattoos, he's had a hard time getting a job. Instead of working, he is studying to be a counselor for at-risk youth and other prisoners. Ron was so touched by this man's story and how hard he is working to better his life. He told me that while we have hard times, we just don't have it that bad. We've never had to overcome so much, like this man has.
My husband said there were several nervous stares shot in their direction during this conversation and we both marveled at how a person is judged by their outside so often instead of their inside. How easy it is to look at someone and think you know how great or how awful their lives are? I find myself doing it a lot too. Rich lady in a Lexus who is perfectly groomed, on her phone, cutting me off in the line of a drive-through. (By the way, don't get in the way of a pregnant lady and her chicken nuggets, ok??) I determined that because of her appearance and her actions, she was incredibly selfish and self-centered. That could be true, but maybe she had a sick kid at home she was trying to get to. Maybe she had diarrhea. Maybe she just had a rough day at work and wasn't thinking clearly. Who knows?
All I know is that I've paid my dues and I have a right to be happy. For each good thing that happens in our lives, Ron and I take a moment to thank God and reflect on how grateful we are. For all the bad things we experience, we try to learn from them. So I guess I get a little tired when I read the back handed comments, when I notice the chilly responses to good news or the lack of any response at all. I always try to be happy for people, to celebrate with them and encourage them. I also am there for them when they experience loss, sadness, and frustration.
So yes, good news has come to us on the tail of some bad news. But we are seeing both outcomes as good things and choosing to dwell on the positives. Yes, Horace has a horrible diagnosis and he's going to be a tough case. He has severe hip dysplasia which we didn't expect in a mutt who is only around 2 years old. In the last week alone we've spent over $400 on his medical issues. Next week we are spending another $350 to set him up with a trainer. I have over $900 in medical bills that I need to pay but so what? I've set up a payment plan and have stuck to it. Horace has needs now. Sure it would be easier to put him down. He's growly and he has pain issues.
But let's go back to Rowdy. Rowdy the dog who came to us around age 12, abandoned in the street because his arthritis was so bad, he was deaf and had lost nearly all his front teeth. That dog NEVER had a chance at a happy life with medical care, kisses and understanding. But here comes Horace into our lives. Same severe hip issues as Rowdy but so much younger. He has a chance if only we will give it to him. This shit does not happen by chance my friends. Everything happens for a reason.
We have time to save up the money for Horace's hip surgeries. And guess what? Ron got a new job a day after the diagnosis. We will be able to save up for that now. Coincidence? Not in our eyes.
Will life give us rotten lemons again? I can guarantee it. We'll face more hurdles, shitty health, insanity from a crying, sick baby, etc. But there will be sunny days, picnics in the park, doggie kisses, baby smiles, love and laughter.
Alles gut meinen freunden. Alles gut.
Tschus.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Injection schmecktion
Aww shucks, I tried to get shots in my jaw joint today but turns out that is rather specialized and only a doctor can do it. I saw the PA today and he gave me some injections in my knees only. It hurt to have my hips done but holy crap, that's nothing compared to the knees. Thankfully they do put some freezing stuff on your skin to help soften the initial stab.
I'm very glad that I broke down and bought my folding cane. It came in handy! I didn't need it much going in but I sure as shit needed it to get back out to the car. I have to admit that it was weird walking with it. A 60 year old man had to slow down and let me by, during which I apologized. He said, "no apology necessary at all."
It generally takes a few days for the shots to really kick in so we'll see if soon I'm beating strangers with my cane instead of walking with it.
I tried to take some updated belly shots since next week I'll be 6 months along. This is the best I can do without hauling out the tripod and camera remote.
And yes, I said to hell with doing hair and makeup today so apologies for being a bit more frumpy than usual.
This belly photo really doesn't do me justice. I look much bigger in person. Last I measured a month ago, I was at least 40 inches in the waist.
Last night my hubs and I were talking and I posed the question again: what if my breast implants triggered the autoimmune disease? And by talking to him, I realized that I was fucked no matter what. By getting the mastectomy and reconstruction, I almost completely eliminated my chances of breast cancer. If I did choose the path that awakened the RA beast, the only thing I can do now is to remove the implants and wear falsies. I'm not sure if I'm ready to do that, given that there is no definitive proof that the implants are linked to the disease. Interesting to think of though.
And regarding the pregnancy, there is a theory that some women go into remission during pregnancy because the father's DNA in the baby takes over, pushing RA into remission. Since that's an unproven theory with no studies to back it up, I'm not going to think too much on it. But by that thinking, Baby EK has all my genes. Which if I allow myself to think it, poses the worry: will she have RA and endometriosis too? Am I bringing her into this world to have a load of issues? I sure hope not. I'm not going to think on that one too long since I don't need the stress. But it's entered my mind ever since finding out the sex of the baby. God, don't let her have endometriosis.
Our doggies have been really great lately. They are all lovey and snuggly and licky. Tomorrow we are taking Horace in for his xrays and I'm praying that he doesn't have some expensive, impossible condition. I hope it's just mild arthritis or something we can manage with supplements and aspirin. Please keep him in your happy, puppy thoughts tomorrow!! Since we have to have him sedated to get really thorough xrays, Ron is coming with me to help transport him. Thank goodness.
Horr-Bear
Patter-pooh
All three of my little fluffy beasts. I love them so much!
That's my week so far. Hope you all are well. Tschus.
I'm very glad that I broke down and bought my folding cane. It came in handy! I didn't need it much going in but I sure as shit needed it to get back out to the car. I have to admit that it was weird walking with it. A 60 year old man had to slow down and let me by, during which I apologized. He said, "no apology necessary at all."
It generally takes a few days for the shots to really kick in so we'll see if soon I'm beating strangers with my cane instead of walking with it.
I tried to take some updated belly shots since next week I'll be 6 months along. This is the best I can do without hauling out the tripod and camera remote.
And yes, I said to hell with doing hair and makeup today so apologies for being a bit more frumpy than usual.
This belly photo really doesn't do me justice. I look much bigger in person. Last I measured a month ago, I was at least 40 inches in the waist.
Last night my hubs and I were talking and I posed the question again: what if my breast implants triggered the autoimmune disease? And by talking to him, I realized that I was fucked no matter what. By getting the mastectomy and reconstruction, I almost completely eliminated my chances of breast cancer. If I did choose the path that awakened the RA beast, the only thing I can do now is to remove the implants and wear falsies. I'm not sure if I'm ready to do that, given that there is no definitive proof that the implants are linked to the disease. Interesting to think of though.
And regarding the pregnancy, there is a theory that some women go into remission during pregnancy because the father's DNA in the baby takes over, pushing RA into remission. Since that's an unproven theory with no studies to back it up, I'm not going to think too much on it. But by that thinking, Baby EK has all my genes. Which if I allow myself to think it, poses the worry: will she have RA and endometriosis too? Am I bringing her into this world to have a load of issues? I sure hope not. I'm not going to think on that one too long since I don't need the stress. But it's entered my mind ever since finding out the sex of the baby. God, don't let her have endometriosis.
Our doggies have been really great lately. They are all lovey and snuggly and licky. Tomorrow we are taking Horace in for his xrays and I'm praying that he doesn't have some expensive, impossible condition. I hope it's just mild arthritis or something we can manage with supplements and aspirin. Please keep him in your happy, puppy thoughts tomorrow!! Since we have to have him sedated to get really thorough xrays, Ron is coming with me to help transport him. Thank goodness.
Horr-Bear
Patter-pooh
All three of my little fluffy beasts. I love them so much!
That's my week so far. Hope you all are well. Tschus.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
My Breast Enemies
Huzzah! Somebody out there gets it! I just ran across this article today on Parenting.com called "The Breast Police." The article begins with stories of women who have been harassed and bullied while out buying formula or bottle feeding their babies in public. Since becoming obviously pregnant, I have had a little more of the unwanted advice from well-intentioned people. I do know what it's like to have people question your every move, every decision, every piece of food or drink that enters your mouth because you are pregnant. This article came to me at an appropriate time.
It would be interesting to find out when breastfeeding became so taboo, so sexualized and embarrassing in our society. I know I was formula fed in the '70's but apparently it wasn't for my mom's lack of trying. She just never could do it. I don't think groups like La Leche League were around then so she probably didn't have a good support system to assist her. Thankfully, while not as good as mother's milk, formula is now so much better, in better containers (no BPA, thank you!) and babies can gain weight and be healthy on formula. Without knowing the details of how our society shifted in thinking, I would think after the sexual revolution that a more earthy, natural way to feed our babies would be more accepted. That doesn't seem to be the case though. I think it's really sad that women are made to feel disgusting for breastfeeding in public.
However, that doesn't make it right for anyone, especially other women, to harass women who bottle feed their babies. My god people, when will you learn that life is not divided into black and white? I know that I can't breastfeed. Hey, my boobs are gone ;there is no bringing them back! I'm sure there are plenty of women who cannot or choose not to breastfeed because they need to be on certain medications, have a low milk production, cannot for the life of them get their baby to take the breast, etc. Why is that anyone else's business but hers? And how can you possibly assume anything by looking at her and furthermore, why would you ever give a nasty look or open your mouth to this person?
Personally, I agonized about getting my mastectomy because I hadn't had a chance to have children yet. I wanted to breastfeed not only for the health of the baby, but for the bonding experience. I cried over it and finally talked to my dad about it. He said, "Why are you so worried? Your mom didn't breastfeed with any of you kids." And while I have health issues, none of them are because my mother formula fed me. From all accounts, I was a pretty healthy baby and all the attention given to me by my mother is what created our bond. (As an aside, the hospital where I got my mastectomy was renovating their surgical ward so I recovered in the maternity ward. As I was leaving the nurse asked how I was and I said tired and sore. She said to get used to be tired for the next 18 years. I looked at her and said, "I didn't give birth, I had a mastectomy." Blank stare.)
I'd like to say this is a backlash for all the shit breastfeeding moms get when nursing in public. However I'm more inclined to think that this is just how women are. Take this situation away and it would be something else. Remember the lady who let her little boy dress up as a female cartoon character for Halloween? The teachers and moms at her schools not only gave her shit, they bullied her son! I'm not saying men don't act like this but more often than not this is women tearing down other women for their decisions.
The final paragraph really sums this up well: "The politics of breastfeeding in this country is, after all, more about mothering than about milk. And mothers, for some reason, have always been the most meddled-with, second-guessed people on earth. Just a few decades ago, doctors in this country would push breastfeeding women to use formula if their babies weren't gaining weight at an acceptable rate, and mothers who nursed outside the home were considered lewd. Now, a mom who gives a hungry infant a little formula is led to believe by some people she's poisoning him. When will the world learn to trust mothers? When will concerned strangers give women they don't know the benefit of the doubt? These are matters that society may tackle someday. In the meantime, moms soldier on, doing what they must -- the very best they can."
So far I have found that along with my normal, neutral face, that tattoos have kept away any of the strange "belly touchers" out there. And I haven't had too much unsolicited advice from strangers but rather from people I know. I am hoping that my tattoos continue to thwart uppity people who may have some comments for me when I'm out buying formula or when I put a bottle in our baby's mouth while at a restaurant. I feel terrible for anyone who is harassed by anyone for anything.
But I also think we need to start empowering ourselves. No one can make you feel like shit if you don't let them. So if you are bottle feeding, be prepared for the looks and the comments. I suggest preparing a list of snide remarks to hand out to those jerk wagons who feel they have a right to comment on your personal business. Get artsy with it! Make a logo to go with your creative "fuck offs!"
And I really recommend the tattoos. :)
It would be interesting to find out when breastfeeding became so taboo, so sexualized and embarrassing in our society. I know I was formula fed in the '70's but apparently it wasn't for my mom's lack of trying. She just never could do it. I don't think groups like La Leche League were around then so she probably didn't have a good support system to assist her. Thankfully, while not as good as mother's milk, formula is now so much better, in better containers (no BPA, thank you!) and babies can gain weight and be healthy on formula. Without knowing the details of how our society shifted in thinking, I would think after the sexual revolution that a more earthy, natural way to feed our babies would be more accepted. That doesn't seem to be the case though. I think it's really sad that women are made to feel disgusting for breastfeeding in public.
However, that doesn't make it right for anyone, especially other women, to harass women who bottle feed their babies. My god people, when will you learn that life is not divided into black and white? I know that I can't breastfeed. Hey, my boobs are gone ;there is no bringing them back! I'm sure there are plenty of women who cannot or choose not to breastfeed because they need to be on certain medications, have a low milk production, cannot for the life of them get their baby to take the breast, etc. Why is that anyone else's business but hers? And how can you possibly assume anything by looking at her and furthermore, why would you ever give a nasty look or open your mouth to this person?
Personally, I agonized about getting my mastectomy because I hadn't had a chance to have children yet. I wanted to breastfeed not only for the health of the baby, but for the bonding experience. I cried over it and finally talked to my dad about it. He said, "Why are you so worried? Your mom didn't breastfeed with any of you kids." And while I have health issues, none of them are because my mother formula fed me. From all accounts, I was a pretty healthy baby and all the attention given to me by my mother is what created our bond. (As an aside, the hospital where I got my mastectomy was renovating their surgical ward so I recovered in the maternity ward. As I was leaving the nurse asked how I was and I said tired and sore. She said to get used to be tired for the next 18 years. I looked at her and said, "I didn't give birth, I had a mastectomy." Blank stare.)
I'd like to say this is a backlash for all the shit breastfeeding moms get when nursing in public. However I'm more inclined to think that this is just how women are. Take this situation away and it would be something else. Remember the lady who let her little boy dress up as a female cartoon character for Halloween? The teachers and moms at her schools not only gave her shit, they bullied her son! I'm not saying men don't act like this but more often than not this is women tearing down other women for their decisions.
The final paragraph really sums this up well: "The politics of breastfeeding in this country is, after all, more about mothering than about milk. And mothers, for some reason, have always been the most meddled-with, second-guessed people on earth. Just a few decades ago, doctors in this country would push breastfeeding women to use formula if their babies weren't gaining weight at an acceptable rate, and mothers who nursed outside the home were considered lewd. Now, a mom who gives a hungry infant a little formula is led to believe by some people she's poisoning him. When will the world learn to trust mothers? When will concerned strangers give women they don't know the benefit of the doubt? These are matters that society may tackle someday. In the meantime, moms soldier on, doing what they must -- the very best they can."
So far I have found that along with my normal, neutral face, that tattoos have kept away any of the strange "belly touchers" out there. And I haven't had too much unsolicited advice from strangers but rather from people I know. I am hoping that my tattoos continue to thwart uppity people who may have some comments for me when I'm out buying formula or when I put a bottle in our baby's mouth while at a restaurant. I feel terrible for anyone who is harassed by anyone for anything.
But I also think we need to start empowering ourselves. No one can make you feel like shit if you don't let them. So if you are bottle feeding, be prepared for the looks and the comments. I suggest preparing a list of snide remarks to hand out to those jerk wagons who feel they have a right to comment on your personal business. Get artsy with it! Make a logo to go with your creative "fuck offs!"
And I really recommend the tattoos. :)
Friday, July 22, 2011
Frakkin' Friday
Hey it's Friday and even when you are unemployed that's good news.
I'm less angsty the last couple days, thanks in part to my friends over at EFU, my embroidery gang who has turned out to be probably the most supportive group of people in my life next to my family. Also I think my body is finally stabilizing back to the regular dose of 'roids. I was sort of wondering when the 'roid rage would kick in. I theorize that 'roid rage increases with body temperature. The only cure for 'roid rage is more cowbell and more ice cream.
Yesterday I limped outside across the scalding cement to the mailbox (I always forget to put shoes on) and retrieved the mail. The utility bill was a bit shocking and I thought "oh well, pay some of it and they won't shut it off." I opened the next item and it was a nice check for a surplus in our escrow account. I had to call the hubby to have him interpret this info for me, never having owned property before and seeing English words but hearing them in Klingon in my mind. The money is enough to schedule Horace's xrays and training session.
That's right, we can afford to start his training and see wtf is going on in his leg and/or hips. Now if he needs a hip replacement, that costs $3,000 and there is little chance in Hell that we can do that. However if he has an old fracture or some general arthritis, we can deal with it. Please keep sending those positive vibes to us so we get good news next week!
So we've had a bit of a miracle. I know that deep down, no matter what shit we have going on, life somehow works itself out. Being a spiritual person, I believe in a higher power's intervention on this but you can call it whatever you want. Sometimes it just takes the individual getting tired of her situation and changing tactics. But whatever it is, I'm just thankful that we can get this damned dog worked on already.
And I'm also able to order a sewing table so we can get the rest of my crafty stuff out of the baby's room. Painting to commence in a few weeks. Then the fun stuff begins such as putting together the dresser and crib, washing and putting away all the little clothes we've thrifted and salvaged. I'm excited to get the room all done!!
The baby has another ultrasound on August 8th and after that we'll have one once a month until I hit about 30 weeks. Then we'll have one once every two weeks. I'm really glad my doctor is being so careful about all this. It makes me feel a lot better to see her on the ultrasound and hear her heart beating. The kicking has increased and Ron can finally feel it too. It's pretty incredible. Kinda feels like IBS though. My intestines can be pretty brutal.
Well I have errands to run and a house to clean. Friends are coming over tomorrow to help me learn my damned sewing machine since my attempts at making pillows from my cross stitched designs tragically failed. What a cluster fuck that was!
Here are some Friday Funnies to send you out in style. Have a good weekend, stay cool. Tschus.
I'm less angsty the last couple days, thanks in part to my friends over at EFU, my embroidery gang who has turned out to be probably the most supportive group of people in my life next to my family. Also I think my body is finally stabilizing back to the regular dose of 'roids. I was sort of wondering when the 'roid rage would kick in. I theorize that 'roid rage increases with body temperature. The only cure for 'roid rage is more cowbell and more ice cream.
Yesterday I limped outside across the scalding cement to the mailbox (I always forget to put shoes on) and retrieved the mail. The utility bill was a bit shocking and I thought "oh well, pay some of it and they won't shut it off." I opened the next item and it was a nice check for a surplus in our escrow account. I had to call the hubby to have him interpret this info for me, never having owned property before and seeing English words but hearing them in Klingon in my mind. The money is enough to schedule Horace's xrays and training session.
That's right, we can afford to start his training and see wtf is going on in his leg and/or hips. Now if he needs a hip replacement, that costs $3,000 and there is little chance in Hell that we can do that. However if he has an old fracture or some general arthritis, we can deal with it. Please keep sending those positive vibes to us so we get good news next week!
So we've had a bit of a miracle. I know that deep down, no matter what shit we have going on, life somehow works itself out. Being a spiritual person, I believe in a higher power's intervention on this but you can call it whatever you want. Sometimes it just takes the individual getting tired of her situation and changing tactics. But whatever it is, I'm just thankful that we can get this damned dog worked on already.
And I'm also able to order a sewing table so we can get the rest of my crafty stuff out of the baby's room. Painting to commence in a few weeks. Then the fun stuff begins such as putting together the dresser and crib, washing and putting away all the little clothes we've thrifted and salvaged. I'm excited to get the room all done!!
The baby has another ultrasound on August 8th and after that we'll have one once a month until I hit about 30 weeks. Then we'll have one once every two weeks. I'm really glad my doctor is being so careful about all this. It makes me feel a lot better to see her on the ultrasound and hear her heart beating. The kicking has increased and Ron can finally feel it too. It's pretty incredible. Kinda feels like IBS though. My intestines can be pretty brutal.
Well I have errands to run and a house to clean. Friends are coming over tomorrow to help me learn my damned sewing machine since my attempts at making pillows from my cross stitched designs tragically failed. What a cluster fuck that was!
Here are some Friday Funnies to send you out in style. Have a good weekend, stay cool. Tschus.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
SUCK IT UP BEX
Sorry for all the blog posts in one day. I am trying to avoid posting too much in one post, as it becomes so miscellaneous that the messages get mixed up.
So my brain has been constipated by stressful thoughts and now it's exploding in mental diarrhea. I suppose this is the time to check in with my therapist.
Things are good overall but I feel a bit overwhelmed. I've been experiencing a continuous RA flare for about two months. It never really goes away but I do get a few days off here and there. Since I've gone back on steroids, I've had to increase my dose twice. My rheumatologist says I cannot go above a certain level. Because of that, if I have any joint pain, I'm to come in for shots in those specific joints. So I did get shots in my hips which has helped thankfully. Unfortunately about two weeks after the shots, all my joints flared up again. I can't go in and have 8+ pairs of joints injected so I wasn't sure what to do. I had a standing appointment with my OB and asked her about it. She advised me to temporarily raise my dose of steroids. I told her that the rheum said no way on that but we agreed I would do it for a week and then I would go back down. Now my rheum wanted me to go down from the regular dose. So rheum says go down to 7.5 or 5 mg and OB wants me at 15 mg, for a week. Erm. Da fuck? Well I did the week at 15 and have now returned to 10 mg. I called the rheum's nurse to report this, just to document everything. I wasn't really looking for her sympathy or for them to do anything other than record what the fuck is going on. (My disability case was of course denied and I am appealing. EVERYTHING must be recorded for legal reasons.) She told me to "suck it up."
Haha! I do recall posting about how I felt the "suck it up" attitude emanating from the medical community. Now I have been officially told to do so.
I do understand that because I'm pregnant, there is nothing else I can take to alleviate my pain. However, no one has told me if I should try ice therapy and if so, how long and how much. Or should I try modifying my diet. Or does the ridiculous heat index have a factor in the flare up. Or is there a low cost swimming program that I can do to get exercise.
I also asked if I would be able to get a temporary handicap parking tag until I have the baby. For me to ask for this means I have taken my Pride, smothered it to death and buried it. I don't ask this lightly. I don't ask for it for free. I am asking because there are days that I struggle to walk around and run my errands. I feel that at this time, I fucking need it. I have not heard back from the nurse on this. I'll give her until tomorrow before I call back and get a little testy. (Insert BEX SMASH here.) I have also ordered myself a collapsible cane for those times when I need something to help me get around.
On Sunday we were out at the bookstore and having lunch. We were gone for maybe three hours and I wanted to cry when we got home. My knees were killing me and I told my husband if we are having more children, they need to be adopted. There is no way that I can go off my meds and go through all this again but with a small child to look after. He of course is very understanding and ok with that.
I hate admitting defeat. I hate making myself lay on the couch all day and do only the minimal of movements because leaving the house and walking around will bring on another flare. I hate losing my independence.
But know what? I'm going to SUCK IT UP. I'm no longer exercising, going out, gardening, walking my dogs, etc. Mentally I'm going crazy. But I don't see what choice I really have. I've got four months to go and then I can take all the fucking drugs I need.
On top of that, I'm worried that Horace will be unable to live with a child. He's growled at a couple people, albeit during times when his leg has been messed with or he has been in pain from whatever is going on with his leg. He is having extensive xrays on August 9th to see if he has hip issues or an ACL tear. If it's a hip problem AND he's aggressive, he will have to be put to sleep. If it's a little arthritis or a tendon issue, we can work with that. He can be rehomed if needed but not if he has human aggression. I love him. He's so happy with us. He squeaks his bunny, is playful, loves to be petted and walked. He's come so far in four months.
So is $425 for three hours of a consultation of the whole pack of dogs fair? No one will do an hour evaluation for a small fee. It's three hours or more and hundreds of dollars. Add $250 to the cost of xrays and I'm about ready to beat my head on the wall.
I think the dog is mistrustful of people in general and he's had a hard life. We are committed to getting him a trainer who is not afraid to tackle this issue head on. However the costs are insane. I know they are worth every penny but the timing sucks ass. So I'm getting quotes on prices and references on trainers to work on this. However the heat, my health and this together makes for a crabby Bex. I know that if you take things one at a time, a day at a time, they are solvable. If there is still hope for him, I will still work on it. If I have to sit my ass in the living room all day instead of working out and visiting people, I can do that temporarily. That doesn't mean I will like it though.
PS
Here is my google image search of "Suck It Up." I'm not sure what is more disturbing; this baby's horrible outfit or the phrase "can of man."
You be the judge.
Tschus.
So my brain has been constipated by stressful thoughts and now it's exploding in mental diarrhea. I suppose this is the time to check in with my therapist.
Things are good overall but I feel a bit overwhelmed. I've been experiencing a continuous RA flare for about two months. It never really goes away but I do get a few days off here and there. Since I've gone back on steroids, I've had to increase my dose twice. My rheumatologist says I cannot go above a certain level. Because of that, if I have any joint pain, I'm to come in for shots in those specific joints. So I did get shots in my hips which has helped thankfully. Unfortunately about two weeks after the shots, all my joints flared up again. I can't go in and have 8+ pairs of joints injected so I wasn't sure what to do. I had a standing appointment with my OB and asked her about it. She advised me to temporarily raise my dose of steroids. I told her that the rheum said no way on that but we agreed I would do it for a week and then I would go back down. Now my rheum wanted me to go down from the regular dose. So rheum says go down to 7.5 or 5 mg and OB wants me at 15 mg, for a week. Erm. Da fuck? Well I did the week at 15 and have now returned to 10 mg. I called the rheum's nurse to report this, just to document everything. I wasn't really looking for her sympathy or for them to do anything other than record what the fuck is going on. (My disability case was of course denied and I am appealing. EVERYTHING must be recorded for legal reasons.) She told me to "suck it up."
Haha! I do recall posting about how I felt the "suck it up" attitude emanating from the medical community. Now I have been officially told to do so.
I do understand that because I'm pregnant, there is nothing else I can take to alleviate my pain. However, no one has told me if I should try ice therapy and if so, how long and how much. Or should I try modifying my diet. Or does the ridiculous heat index have a factor in the flare up. Or is there a low cost swimming program that I can do to get exercise.
I also asked if I would be able to get a temporary handicap parking tag until I have the baby. For me to ask for this means I have taken my Pride, smothered it to death and buried it. I don't ask this lightly. I don't ask for it for free. I am asking because there are days that I struggle to walk around and run my errands. I feel that at this time, I fucking need it. I have not heard back from the nurse on this. I'll give her until tomorrow before I call back and get a little testy. (Insert BEX SMASH here.) I have also ordered myself a collapsible cane for those times when I need something to help me get around.
On Sunday we were out at the bookstore and having lunch. We were gone for maybe three hours and I wanted to cry when we got home. My knees were killing me and I told my husband if we are having more children, they need to be adopted. There is no way that I can go off my meds and go through all this again but with a small child to look after. He of course is very understanding and ok with that.
I hate admitting defeat. I hate making myself lay on the couch all day and do only the minimal of movements because leaving the house and walking around will bring on another flare. I hate losing my independence.
But know what? I'm going to SUCK IT UP. I'm no longer exercising, going out, gardening, walking my dogs, etc. Mentally I'm going crazy. But I don't see what choice I really have. I've got four months to go and then I can take all the fucking drugs I need.
On top of that, I'm worried that Horace will be unable to live with a child. He's growled at a couple people, albeit during times when his leg has been messed with or he has been in pain from whatever is going on with his leg. He is having extensive xrays on August 9th to see if he has hip issues or an ACL tear. If it's a hip problem AND he's aggressive, he will have to be put to sleep. If it's a little arthritis or a tendon issue, we can work with that. He can be rehomed if needed but not if he has human aggression. I love him. He's so happy with us. He squeaks his bunny, is playful, loves to be petted and walked. He's come so far in four months.
So is $425 for three hours of a consultation of the whole pack of dogs fair? No one will do an hour evaluation for a small fee. It's three hours or more and hundreds of dollars. Add $250 to the cost of xrays and I'm about ready to beat my head on the wall.
I think the dog is mistrustful of people in general and he's had a hard life. We are committed to getting him a trainer who is not afraid to tackle this issue head on. However the costs are insane. I know they are worth every penny but the timing sucks ass. So I'm getting quotes on prices and references on trainers to work on this. However the heat, my health and this together makes for a crabby Bex. I know that if you take things one at a time, a day at a time, they are solvable. If there is still hope for him, I will still work on it. If I have to sit my ass in the living room all day instead of working out and visiting people, I can do that temporarily. That doesn't mean I will like it though.
PS
Here is my google image search of "Suck It Up." I'm not sure what is more disturbing; this baby's horrible outfit or the phrase "can of man."
You be the judge.
Tschus.
Poor garden!
Oh my poor, poor garden. I'm not sure how the weather is affecting your plants where you all live, but my little neck of the plains is not very hospitable. Our heat index has been over 100 for about two weeks and we have at least 10 more days of this Inferno. The automatic sprinklers go off about 5AM four days a week. Also, I think we have a bug problem. I'm hoping you all can look at the photos and give me a little advice.
First, here is my little bird/flower garden:
Most of my daisy flowers and one purple coneflower have died.
And here is my vegetable garden:
Yikes. The tomatoes are still producing fruit but the leaves are crispy.
Rotten? Bug infested? What the heck?
The zucchini plant was thriving. Tons of blossoms, huge leaves, etc. Today I found it wilted, rotting. I tried to move the plant a little to see under some leaves and the stem broke right off. This is what I found inside. Gross.
It looks rotted to me. Like how it should look in the fall.
This is the leafy part of the plant.
But I got one, giant zucchini that had hidden itself away!
Rest in peace green pepper. I shall avenge you with insecticide. Organic, of course.
This year is my experimental year. Seeing what works, how the light falls in the yard, how freakin' hot can it get, etc. It doesn't help that I'm pregnant enough to not want to be gardening outside in the heat. I do plan on picking up some organic garden spray to kill the bugs and will do so this weekend.
So what is the verdict? Other than the bugs, is this a heat related zucchini-side? Too much water? I welcome your thoughts, oh wise friends!
Stay cool, stay sane. Tschus.
First, here is my little bird/flower garden:
Most of my daisy flowers and one purple coneflower have died.
And here is my vegetable garden:
Yikes. The tomatoes are still producing fruit but the leaves are crispy.
Rotten? Bug infested? What the heck?
The zucchini plant was thriving. Tons of blossoms, huge leaves, etc. Today I found it wilted, rotting. I tried to move the plant a little to see under some leaves and the stem broke right off. This is what I found inside. Gross.
It looks rotted to me. Like how it should look in the fall.
This is the leafy part of the plant.
But I got one, giant zucchini that had hidden itself away!
Rest in peace green pepper. I shall avenge you with insecticide. Organic, of course.
This year is my experimental year. Seeing what works, how the light falls in the yard, how freakin' hot can it get, etc. It doesn't help that I'm pregnant enough to not want to be gardening outside in the heat. I do plan on picking up some organic garden spray to kill the bugs and will do so this weekend.
So what is the verdict? Other than the bugs, is this a heat related zucchini-side? Too much water? I welcome your thoughts, oh wise friends!
Stay cool, stay sane. Tschus.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Baby rockin' the '70's!
First for those who haven't heard, it's a girl! We were so sure it was a boy so it was a shock at first. But if I had a boy, I wouldn't be able to use all the stuff in this post! We are pretty damned excited either way and have already picked a name (to be announced upon arrival.)
For almost 15 years I have been hauling a box of baby stuff from my childhood. I haven't looked at the contents in a very long time. I will admit my age here: I was born in 1976. I was born 8 years from my closest sibling so no hand-me-downs other than toys. Looking through all this has assuaged my guilt about wanting blue bedding for our baby girl. Pink is cute in clothing and small items but as an overall theme in a bedroom it doesn't seem very soothing. Maybe I'm just not a big fan of baby pink. But it looks like I was given a lot of blue things when I was a baby and it wasn't a big deal.
Wow. This was the most garish example of a handmade 1970's baby outfit I've seen yet, not just in my house but ever. I showed my husband and he said no way is our baby wearing it. But she will at least once. I will forgive her more time in it because the material is a bit scratchy.
Blue dress and pink onesie.
Leather shoes and blue nursery rhyme quilt.
Noah's Ark onesie and a rocket boy and girl burp cloth.
Yellow and green sleeping gown.
Yellow sweater and bib overall outfit.
Green knitted sweater, bonnet and booty set.
Pink bonnet and onesie.
Embroidered "love me" bonnet.
Baby afghans.
I feel pretty amazed and fortunate that this amount of baby stuff survived! Also included are a shit-load of handmade doilies, congratulation cards my mom received as well as a "guess the due date and weight" of Bex chart from all her work colleagues and friends. I wonder how much they bet on me.
For almost 15 years I have been hauling a box of baby stuff from my childhood. I haven't looked at the contents in a very long time. I will admit my age here: I was born in 1976. I was born 8 years from my closest sibling so no hand-me-downs other than toys. Looking through all this has assuaged my guilt about wanting blue bedding for our baby girl. Pink is cute in clothing and small items but as an overall theme in a bedroom it doesn't seem very soothing. Maybe I'm just not a big fan of baby pink. But it looks like I was given a lot of blue things when I was a baby and it wasn't a big deal.
Wow. This was the most garish example of a handmade 1970's baby outfit I've seen yet, not just in my house but ever. I showed my husband and he said no way is our baby wearing it. But she will at least once. I will forgive her more time in it because the material is a bit scratchy.
Blue dress and pink onesie.
Leather shoes and blue nursery rhyme quilt.
Noah's Ark onesie and a rocket boy and girl burp cloth.
Yellow and green sleeping gown.
Yellow sweater and bib overall outfit.
Green knitted sweater, bonnet and booty set.
Pink bonnet and onesie.
Embroidered "love me" bonnet.
Baby afghans.
I feel pretty amazed and fortunate that this amount of baby stuff survived! Also included are a shit-load of handmade doilies, congratulation cards my mom received as well as a "guess the due date and weight" of Bex chart from all her work colleagues and friends. I wonder how much they bet on me.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Sweet Sadie Doo, Part 3
Tomorrow is the big baby ultrasound so I'm sure my brain will be bursting with all the excitement. However I wanted to finish up Sadie's memorial. This is a long one, I warn you. But it's the last one and if you've kept up with Parts 1 and 2, then please see this to the end with me.
From 2008 to the present, life settled into a pretty consistent flow of work-home-weekend fun. The dogs were there for all that, as well as the ups and downs we experienced.
She was always jealous when other dogs took away her attention.
She coveted the toys.
Little did I know at the start of 2008 that my body was experiencing issues beyond the normal wear and tear of a tough work week. While I tried to shake off the fatigue, Sadie was there to relax with me.
She was there with a slobbery tongue whenever I felt sad.
She always had a smile for us!
Ruff! It's cold; lemme in!
This was taken shortly after Ron and I got hitched in Vegas. Back to real life!
I always sat on the floor so I could be more accessible for snuggle time.
I love the look here on Patton's face as he looks at her.
After finding out about the endometriosis, I finally decided that the fatigue I was experiencing wasn't my thyroid and it was something more. For a few weeks, they thought it was lupus. The dogs knew something was up because the day of the phone call, they were all over me.
They eventually told me Fibro and RA; it took longer to get the right diagnosis. But life goes on! In the meantime, we went to the park, took walks, lived life the best we could.
Then Rowdy came! Boy, did this latest addition really piss Sadie off. Rowdy had no clue about personal space and was mostly deaf. He either didn't hear her growling at him, or he didn't care.
Sadie and Rowdy all over Ron near the kitchen.
A very happy, calm pack.
On the way to Oklahoma for Thanksgiving, Sadie literally sat on poor Rowdy's head. Thankfully Ron noticed and made her move.
Another Christmas.
She was always helpful when there was a mess to clean.
Awww.
Still, winter play days were always a favorite.
Easter, 2009. They were waiting for us to drop something while we cooked.
I took this the day before my second surgery in 2009 so I could print the photo and have it at the hospital. My loved ones.
We went back to the lake that summer but lasted only a day because Rowdy was so uncomfortable. His arthritis was really painful for him.
We did make time for Sadie to hit the boat again though.
More dog parks.
Another winter, another happy Sadie.
Spring, 2010. Sadie's toys always went outside with her to pee.
This mud hole was her favorite place to wallow at one of the dog parks. Oh dear god, it smelled HORRIBLE.
Hahhaa yuck!
Always the princess.
A week after this was taken, Rowdy died. We had him for only a year and a half. We thought we were adopting a young, stray dog but he was very old. It appears that he began having health problems, mainly awful arthritis, and was dropped off in a street and abandoned. We fell in love with him anyways, and his disabilities helped me somewhat when I got my RA diagnosis. If this dog, who is in so much pain, can keep going and show such a zest for life, what was my excuse? When he couldn't come back from yet another seizure, we knew it was time to go. The tragedy of this loss was that we had him for such a short amount of time and he was never properly cared for in his formative years. The grief we felt at this time was tremendous. My job was really spiraling down hill, my health was shit and I fell into a deep depression. Thank God I had the other dogs to get me out of bed every day.
Here she is, getting nice and smelly!!
I'm so glad we did this trip. Here she is, lounging after a hike in the Black Hills, South Dakota. I insisted on bringing her, thinking it might be the last time she was on a trip. And it was. We climbed hills, watched Wild Turkeys, relaxed in the cabin and had a great time.
Driving to South Dakota. I love this picture so much.
Oh boy, another one? Meet Tobin! Tobin gave us all a challenge. He took over her spot in the pack as Alpha and he challenged everyone in the house over everything. He mellowed out after the move to the house.
The introduction of the dogs to the new house. Halloween 2010.
They loved having a fenced yard.
I quit my job after we moved and was able to be a part of a lot of quiet, lovely moments.
Our last Christmas together!
Horace came to us a foster for the first time that week as well.
And we celebrated her birthday Dec. 28, 2010.
Appreciating life, even on a cold, snowy day.
Doggie fun night.
An attempt at a family photo. They thought the camera remote was a treat.
May 2011. The old gal was slowing down. She wasn't in as many photos because she just preferred to be in the quiet, left to herself.
She did come out to help with the garden box however.
This is the last photo I can find of her. In her last days, I knew I should take just one more, but could not bring myself to do so. I didn't want to have a photo of her when she was in pain and sick.
It occurred to me the other day that Sadie came to me during the start of a very crazy, often tempestuous time in my life. Always the introvert, I did not adapt well outside my comfort zones and lived alone through part of college. She was there to keep me company, to help me grow as a person and an adult. She was there as I adjusted to life as a stepmother and wife. She was there through all the verbal abuse and sometimes violence of my marriage. She saw me through the move to Kansas and my new life. And then she was there with comforting kisses and snuggles as I went through several diagnoses, painful procedures, a miscarriage, infertility treatments and the loss of my career. But she was there for so much more than that. She was there for all the laughter, the fun trips, the tears of joy, the feeling of happiness when the sun fell on our faces, a beautiful new home, etc.
I think when I finally got through my first trimester safely, she was thinking, "Mom, I've seen you this far in life and it's time for me to rest. I know I'm leaving you in a really good place now. My job is done but I'll see you again." I thank God for her. Maybe some people can get through all the trials of life on their own, but I needed something. I needed my small headed, fluffy butt, perpetual shedder, TV barking dog to guide me through it.
Sweet Sadie Doo, you have earned this rest of yours and I want to thank you for everything you've done for me. You will always be in the back of my thoughts and my heart. While I miss you terribly, I know you had a great life. I'm so glad I was there to share every step with you.
God Bless and until the day we are united....
From 2008 to the present, life settled into a pretty consistent flow of work-home-weekend fun. The dogs were there for all that, as well as the ups and downs we experienced.
She was always jealous when other dogs took away her attention.
She coveted the toys.
Little did I know at the start of 2008 that my body was experiencing issues beyond the normal wear and tear of a tough work week. While I tried to shake off the fatigue, Sadie was there to relax with me.
She was there with a slobbery tongue whenever I felt sad.
She always had a smile for us!
Ruff! It's cold; lemme in!
This was taken shortly after Ron and I got hitched in Vegas. Back to real life!
I always sat on the floor so I could be more accessible for snuggle time.
I love the look here on Patton's face as he looks at her.
After finding out about the endometriosis, I finally decided that the fatigue I was experiencing wasn't my thyroid and it was something more. For a few weeks, they thought it was lupus. The dogs knew something was up because the day of the phone call, they were all over me.
They eventually told me Fibro and RA; it took longer to get the right diagnosis. But life goes on! In the meantime, we went to the park, took walks, lived life the best we could.
Then Rowdy came! Boy, did this latest addition really piss Sadie off. Rowdy had no clue about personal space and was mostly deaf. He either didn't hear her growling at him, or he didn't care.
Sadie and Rowdy all over Ron near the kitchen.
A very happy, calm pack.
On the way to Oklahoma for Thanksgiving, Sadie literally sat on poor Rowdy's head. Thankfully Ron noticed and made her move.
Another Christmas.
She was always helpful when there was a mess to clean.
Awww.
Still, winter play days were always a favorite.
Easter, 2009. They were waiting for us to drop something while we cooked.
I took this the day before my second surgery in 2009 so I could print the photo and have it at the hospital. My loved ones.
We went back to the lake that summer but lasted only a day because Rowdy was so uncomfortable. His arthritis was really painful for him.
We did make time for Sadie to hit the boat again though.
More dog parks.
Another winter, another happy Sadie.
Spring, 2010. Sadie's toys always went outside with her to pee.
This mud hole was her favorite place to wallow at one of the dog parks. Oh dear god, it smelled HORRIBLE.
Hahhaa yuck!
Always the princess.
A week after this was taken, Rowdy died. We had him for only a year and a half. We thought we were adopting a young, stray dog but he was very old. It appears that he began having health problems, mainly awful arthritis, and was dropped off in a street and abandoned. We fell in love with him anyways, and his disabilities helped me somewhat when I got my RA diagnosis. If this dog, who is in so much pain, can keep going and show such a zest for life, what was my excuse? When he couldn't come back from yet another seizure, we knew it was time to go. The tragedy of this loss was that we had him for such a short amount of time and he was never properly cared for in his formative years. The grief we felt at this time was tremendous. My job was really spiraling down hill, my health was shit and I fell into a deep depression. Thank God I had the other dogs to get me out of bed every day.
Here she is, getting nice and smelly!!
I'm so glad we did this trip. Here she is, lounging after a hike in the Black Hills, South Dakota. I insisted on bringing her, thinking it might be the last time she was on a trip. And it was. We climbed hills, watched Wild Turkeys, relaxed in the cabin and had a great time.
Driving to South Dakota. I love this picture so much.
Oh boy, another one? Meet Tobin! Tobin gave us all a challenge. He took over her spot in the pack as Alpha and he challenged everyone in the house over everything. He mellowed out after the move to the house.
The introduction of the dogs to the new house. Halloween 2010.
They loved having a fenced yard.
I quit my job after we moved and was able to be a part of a lot of quiet, lovely moments.
Our last Christmas together!
Horace came to us a foster for the first time that week as well.
And we celebrated her birthday Dec. 28, 2010.
Appreciating life, even on a cold, snowy day.
Doggie fun night.
An attempt at a family photo. They thought the camera remote was a treat.
May 2011. The old gal was slowing down. She wasn't in as many photos because she just preferred to be in the quiet, left to herself.
She did come out to help with the garden box however.
This is the last photo I can find of her. In her last days, I knew I should take just one more, but could not bring myself to do so. I didn't want to have a photo of her when she was in pain and sick.
It occurred to me the other day that Sadie came to me during the start of a very crazy, often tempestuous time in my life. Always the introvert, I did not adapt well outside my comfort zones and lived alone through part of college. She was there to keep me company, to help me grow as a person and an adult. She was there as I adjusted to life as a stepmother and wife. She was there through all the verbal abuse and sometimes violence of my marriage. She saw me through the move to Kansas and my new life. And then she was there with comforting kisses and snuggles as I went through several diagnoses, painful procedures, a miscarriage, infertility treatments and the loss of my career. But she was there for so much more than that. She was there for all the laughter, the fun trips, the tears of joy, the feeling of happiness when the sun fell on our faces, a beautiful new home, etc.
I think when I finally got through my first trimester safely, she was thinking, "Mom, I've seen you this far in life and it's time for me to rest. I know I'm leaving you in a really good place now. My job is done but I'll see you again." I thank God for her. Maybe some people can get through all the trials of life on their own, but I needed something. I needed my small headed, fluffy butt, perpetual shedder, TV barking dog to guide me through it.
Sweet Sadie Doo, you have earned this rest of yours and I want to thank you for everything you've done for me. You will always be in the back of my thoughts and my heart. While I miss you terribly, I know you had a great life. I'm so glad I was there to share every step with you.
God Bless and until the day we are united....
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