The one where I give further proof that the universe is out to get me...

If you've read this blog at all then you know that the universe is conspiring against me. For real. And that the manufacturer of my body used faulty parts. I mean, how else do I end up with knees that look like they belong to an 80 year old? And now, I apparently have spontaneously rupturing muscles. At least with the torn meniscus I had a great story and could call it a "sports injury". This latest thing? Yeah, I got nothing with a capital "N".

It started Wednesday. I drug Mike to town (yeah, seriously drug him. It's boy scout camp time and he's busier than a cranberry farmer at bogging time. And the way it works is once he steps foot off camp property at least one thing breaks.) But we had an appointment we had to keep, we'd already rescheduled three times. And I had to go have some ridiculous ABI test done for my doctor. It was like musical blood pressure cuffs. Arms, legs, all at once, one at a time. Not too bad except I'm not sure why they feel the need to blow those cuffs up all the way when I have relatively low blood pressure. Anywho, we got all that done and we even snuck in lunch beforehand. But of course, on the way home, he gets calls and texts and apparently all hell broke loose at camp while he was gone.

So we get home and he rushes back down into camp. No one else is home so I go to the computer and start working. As I'm working, I notice that its beginning to hurt when I move my right arm a certain way. I really didn't think much about it til I got up at 7 to see about something to eat. Then I noticed that it really hurt to move my arm. It got increasingly worse and when Lu got home from work, I showed her how it hurt to move it certain ways. Her expert advice? "So don't move it like that". Seriously, that girl could be a doctor.

So Mike asks if I want to go to the ER. Who wants to go to the ER at ten o'clock at night? So I say "no". And he goes to his workshop to work on some stuff. But by 11? I can't move my arm without bringing tears to my eyes. And let me just remind you that I am not a wuss when it comes to pain. Walk around on a torn meniscus for 6 months? No prob. Birth a 10lb breech baby with no drugs? Been there, done that. So if I'm in tears, it's serious. So Mike and I proceed to the ER at 11pm.

Cue Twilight Zone music because really? Those people who are at the ER at that time of night? Born in a Walmart if you ask me. There was the pregnant meth head (no lie) who was both scary and pathetic. There was the old lady that they took back immediately even though she appeared in no distress. There was the guy I thought was going to pass out on the floor in front of me. And the whiny chick (who again did not look sick). And the triage nurse from hell. Mike suggested that we bring food some night and just hang out there and people watch. He said it might be fun if I wasn't in so much pain.

But I was in pain. And after sitting in the waiting room for an hour I was highly tempted to take the security guard's firearm and blaze a trail back to a treatment room. And when I heard the meth head say that she should be next, I believe the words that came out of my mouth (quietly so only Mike heard me) were "she better back that crap up because I will cut a b**ch!" Have I explained that extreme pain makes me cranky??

Then the guy comes and gets me for an xray of my shoulder. He informs me I have to remove my shirt and bra and put on a gown. Well, I managed painfully to remove my things and get the gown on but I had to have him tie it. He does the xrays, also painful and then tells me I can get dressed.

Me: Dude, that is so not happening. There's no way I can get that stuff back on by myself.

Him: *mouth open. crickets chirping*

Me: Can I borrow this gown? I'll go out and get my husband to come with me to the restroom and help."

Him: oh yeah, that's fine. (Seriously? Did he really think I was going to ask him to help??)

So I grab my clothes and go get Mike. We go to the ladies restroom and I go in to be sure it's empty. He comes to the handicapped stall with me and I shut the door.

Mike: I'm so going to get arrested. And then I'll be branded a sex offender and lose my job and have to register on a list and...

Me: Um. It's pretty obvious I can't use my arm. I think the security guard will understand.

Finally we see a doctor. And for the third time that night I get the "What did you do to it?" NOTHING! I wasn't skydiving, playing tennis, doing chin-ups or falling down stairs. I was typing when it started. Every time I say this, I am greeted with dubious looks. I'm halfway tempted to tell everyone Sean beats me. I mean, he tells people I beat him so it's only fair, right? The xrays look fine. The doctor has no idea what's wrong. So they give me a shot of dilaudid and a Valium and send me home with a vial of narcotics and instructions to see my doctor the next day. So I'm higher than a kite, but it hasn't even touched the pain. And I have to stay awake on the drive home so I can keep poking Mike, who's falling asleep at the wheel. Because it's now 2 am.

Nothing helped the pain so I went and saw the doctor who was covering for my doctor on Thursday. After moving my arm and watching me tear up he determined that it was my bicep and it's likely ruptured. He gave me a shot of Toradol, which is an anti-inflammatory and a regimen of high dose Motrin round the clock. He also put me in a sling. If it's better by next week, then it's only strained. If it's not, it's likely I separated the tendon from the muscle and will need surgery. You all know how much I love surgery. Like a fat guy loves diet food. So far, it's helped. Whether it's the immobilization or the Motrin, I don't know. I hate the sling with a passion, but if I don't wear it, I forget and use my arm and then it hurts again. Fingers crossed for the strain. I don't have time for anything else.

And this whole episode is the exact reason why I love Mystery Diagnosis so much. It makes me and my medical issues seem normal in comparison!

Have a great forth y'all!
♥Spot

The one where I finally get my life back...

I absolutely cannot believe that I have not blogged in almost two months. That seems crazy to me when it's one of my all time favorite activities. Not to mention, the way I connect with so many people near and far. Oddly though, I have noticed that several people took blogcations and went AWOL. Thank you to those of you who still commented or sent emails or kept up with me on Facebook. I'm still alive. And improved. Not new. Just improved. So I guess I'll just catch everyone up as best I can and go from there. This may take a while so grab a beverage, put your feet up and dive in.

I had some health issues while I was gone. Namely, pneumonia that played "musical lungs" and hung on from December 15th (my birthday) until about January 18th. Not being able to breathe pretty much sucks. And coughing so hard you actually crack a rib is not high on the list of fun stuff either. I would never have made it through Christmas (remember it was my year to host my mom's family) if I had not been oddly organized this year (I say odd because I'm never this organized at Christmas). I had bought most of my gifts early (yay for online shopping!) and had actually planned my days out so I could get things done. Also, Mike helped more this year with Christmas than he's ever, in our entire life together, helped. In fact, I may consider having pneumonia ever year. Or at least faking it. Cough. Cough. "I'm sick". And the kids pitched in too. And I finally gave myself permission to not sweat the small stuff. And to consider many things "small stuff". So Christmas came off with out a hitch. The cleanup was another matter. I didn't get the trees down until January 19th. I also had my gallbladder surgery. Finally. We'd had to keep rescheduling it due to the pneumonia. It wasn't bad as far as surgeries go and I've recovered rather quickly for me. So I'm finally feeling more or less normal. Better than normal except for a continuing cough. Surely it will be gone by March?

Mike is doing well. He's actually off to National Camp School for a week to head up and teach the Ranger portion. He was suggested by someone he'd met, they conferred with his bosses, talked to him and off he went. He was so nervous. Public speaking is not his favorite. But we went over his lesson plans and everything the other night and he's going to rock this gig. The new rangers are lucky to have him because he'll be a great teacher. But he hasn't been gone for a whole week in like 5 years. I'm going to really miss him. And I sure as hell hope we don't get snowed in. I have no idea how to drive the tractor and plow snow. Also, for those of you who are thinking "Ha! Her husband's gone for a week, lets rob the place", first, there's not much to take. Second, we have guns and Sean will shoot you. I much prefer sharp stabby things so I'll shank you with my vegetable knife. But worst of all...we have a pregnant Lu who will probably gouge out your eyes with her bare hands. Seriously. Those hormones are wild.

Sean is good. Still rocking the telemarketer world and keeping us all in stitches with tales of his daily worklife. He almost makes me want to get a job there. Sean and Lizzie did drop the "not dating" part and dated over Christmas break. Unfortunately, it was short lived. Now they really are not dating. So girls, he's up for grabs again. And he's racking up a tidy little nest egg. Although, I must admit he's pretty generous with his money. He's currently making his summer travel plans and seeing how he can fit some work in there too.

Lu is good. Her pregnancy is going well and she has the cutest little baby belly. She's really starting to show this last week and you can tell it's baby not pudge. She hasn't had any problems other than tiredness and some nausea at all. Her blood work is looking good and holding out high. We heard the baby's heartbeat at the last appointment and it was strong and 166. This leads me to believe it's a girl. The name picking is not going so well. She wants something uncommon, but not ridiculous. Maybe I should have a "name Lu's baby" contest. The baby's father is very much out of the picture. He can't seem to put aside his own feelings and realize that there's a baby involved, it's not really about him anymore. I think it's hurt Lu's feelings somewhat on behalf of the baby, but mostly she's relieved. There is someone else in the picture. He is ready to take care of both Lu and the baby. But they are taking it slow to see where it goes. With her hormonal mood swings, dating her is challenging. I won't say anything further because some of the baby's daddy's friends read my blog and it doesn't need to get back to him unless they get serious. You know who you are...and so do I. So don't go telling tales. She's still working at her retail job and planning to take online classes in the fall after the baby is born.

Well, bet you finished that drink, huh? If you made it through all this, then you are pretty well caught up. I can't wait to read some of your blogs and find out what's going on with the rest of you! And I do have some wickedly funny conversations saved up. It's good to be back. I've missed you all.

♥Spot

And the culprit was...

So yesterday? Not my best day. Couldn't figure out the funk. Couldn't figure out why I kept bursting into tears over nothing. Couldn't blame hormones, wrong week. My family? Not really behaving any worse than usual. The weather? Yucky, but hell, I like rain. So I did what I said I was going to do. I shut off the computer. Made my bed, took a shower, got a sandwich and a soda and settled on my couch. I texted Hildi because I knew she'd cheer me up or at least agree with me that life just doesn't live up to your expectations some days. Then I watched some twilight zone. And then I feel asleep. When I woke up, I figured it out. Fever and a sore throat and a headache. Me coming down with something = blue funk. Me with a fever = tears.

As I've said before, I have a wacked out weird body and fibromyalgia. Both my sister and I have normally low body temperatures. So by the time I have what the doctors consider a fever (100+), I've feeling the effects of a higher fever. And for some reason, they always make me cry. Hildi and Lu are the same way. So I took some ibuprofen and curled back up on the couch and watched a totally ridiculous movie on Lifetime about this little girl who was reincarnated from a murder victim. The idea was actually good, the acting, plot, dialogue, not so much. Then Sean came in and said he had a really bad headache and his arm rash itched. I blamed my illness on him. He felt so bad for me that he made his own lunch. (I know! Shocking, right?!)

Hubby stuck his head in the door and checked on me. Then he actually brought clothes up from the dryer (of course, he didn't fold or put away, but I can't ask for miracles), put the ones from the washer in the dryer, and started a load with the muddy clothes he'd just taken off. Will wonders never cease???! Maybe I should cry more often?! After the movie, I got up and made supper. Sean had actually asked for fish sticks, box mac-n-cheese & peas. I know. I'm still scratching my head over that one too. But both my children told me last grocery list that they missed the foods from their younger years (fish sticks, pigs-n-blankets, chicken nuggets). I stared at them. I cook from scratch nearly every night and these are the things they want?? So every so often I've been working a "young & poor" meal into the menu. Weirdos.

After watching a movie on TV with the fam, I headed off to my room. Got on my pj's and settled onto my bed with the files of my fiction work from my file cabinet. I wanted to see how many completed stories I had, how many needed editing, how many were ready for submission. I ended up reading my old rejection letters. (Yes, I kept them. Apparently I'm a masochist. Who knew??) But as I read through them, and out loud to Sean, who'd come into my room to talk, I realized they weren't totally rejection slips. Many of them had said I had talent and even though they couldn't use that story to keep submitting. One editor even took the time to edit the first half of a story and show me my mistakes. And tell me to resubmit after corrections. Unfortunately, the editor had a death in the family and the anthology never got published. But I was this close. And it renewed my ambition.

Then Sean left and I started watching a really bad movie on the Chiller channel. But Lu's hippie had arrived, along with a friend of his (and ours) and they plus Lu piled into the room. (Are we beginning to see how Spot has no privacy? I mean these kids are in my bedroom.) We all talked for about an hour until hubby came in and announced he was going to sleep and kicked them out.

Today, I still have a stupid sore throat. And a headache. But I'm keeping the fever at bay so no tears. And I feel better, indeed. Mentally anyway. Which is the most important part. I'm psyched again about my writing. And life is good...

Have a fantastic Saturday,
♥Spot

I didn't die. Yet.

So I'm still alive. Okay, maybe half alive. Alive enough to get out of bed and sit here and read blogs and comment people back. And hopefully they all make sense. But I still feel like crap. And I'm going back to bed soon. But since the fever has finally gone away, I'm pretty sure I'll live.

I did not go to the doctor. Partly because I'm too tired to put on clothes other than pj's and ride the half hour into town. Partly because if I don't have the flu, I probably would by the time I breathed the same air as all those other sick people. And partly because I'm a mom. I know the drill for this...rest...fluids...more rest. These are my observations from yesterday...

1.) The Campbell's "soup at hands" are really convenient for sick people. Easier to hold in bed than a bowl and spoon. However, if you eat the chicken and stars one, all the stars sink to the bottom. This results in a huge lump of pasta stuck in the bottom of the container at the end.

2.) If you happen to be watching a SyFy marathon of Outer Limits episodes and you fall asleep during one episode and wake up during another you will be highly confused.

3.) Daytime TV is insipid.

4.) Used tissues multiply at roughly the same rate as rabbits.

5.) Taking your temperature with a thermometer under your tongue becomes virtually impossible when your nose is completely stuffed up. Only olympic swimmers can hold their breath long enough to accomplish this feat.

6.) Cats really like sick people. You may wake up with five of them sleeping in various positions on your bed. I'm pretty sure they just like the heat you give off when feverish. Or maybe they're just waiting for you to die so they can eat you.

7.) Sean can fend for himself way better than he lets on.

8.) "Cootie Girl" is apparently a term of endearment.

9.) If I look bad enough (or sound bad enough) my husband will avoid contact with me. This has never happened before. Considering he has the constitution of a horse and almost never gets sick from being near me when I'm sick, I can only assume I either look worse than usual. Or he's succumbed to the reigning paranoia thrust upon us by all the media coverage of the swine flu pandemic. Dammit...I want my cuddles!

10.) I truly thank the powers that be that the SK book was delivered to me so fortuitously. At least I have something wonderful to read!!!

And thank you all for your comments and well wishes!! I truly appreciate them. And hope that I can get back to what passes for normal at my house very very soon!!!

'Scuse me, I need a nap now,
♥Spot