Category: No Whining

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Chooch Friends Health No Whining Too Long For Twitter Vestibular Migraine

I Broke

Yesterday was rough. The last two weeks have been hard, but I was actually stuck out yesterday for awhile unable to drive home. My boys arrive home day after tomorrow and I’m trying to get things done so we can focus on each other while they’re here. So I went out with a migraine and some damn bug I picked up recently to run errands.

I ended up cat napping in my car after much difficulty at the last store. The pain, the fatigue, the dizziness just kind of overtook me. I called my neurologist while I was sitting there, completely broken down. I wasn’t crying, but I was desperate for some kind of relief from the pain. I knew this is the last kind of call that gets you pain killers that I likely need to knock them out, but that’s just how much pain I was in.

I just got a call that he’s prescribing two things for me, a new medicine to breakthrough the migraine pain when it strikes along with an anti-depressant. This is the third time he’s offered it to me, but I honestly don’t think I’m depressed. My husband and I have discussed it in the past and it doesn’t fit. My “mood” is actually pretty good, all things considered. Being exhausted from pain is not the same as not wanting to go on, in fact I’d say that I’m feeling the opposite. I’m ravenous to feel better so I can get back to daily walks and tri-weekly runs, work, studies and life.

And let’s not ignore the fact that the top side effects of the anti-depressant are dizziness, headaches, drowsiness and weakness along with some of the nastier side effects that I’m trying to end from the last meds. Now that I know what it is, I’ve got a call in to find out if there are known migraine relief benefits to the medication, but all I’m seeing online is depression and social anxiety disorder relief. Hey, I very likely have the latter, but have been managing it much better in recent months. I don’t need this damned list of side effects just for that.

So in the spirit of “It takes a village…” I’m asking my friends, my actual friends that have spent face to face time with me in recent months if you think I’m depressed. Maybe I am and we don’t see it. I don’t see Twitter as a good data source for this, I need real people, friends, to respond.

Tweets are lost to the stream too quickly, so are only a momentary help. I prefer you reply here or you can shoot me an email to VivMuse@gmail.com.

And thanks for taking the time to read my blog. It’s nice to know that I’m not alone, even though I typically feel like I’m shouting into the abyss.

Categories
Family Kids No Whining Our Kids Soulful

My "Not My Kids" Kids

I talk a lot about our kids. My two sons are from a previous marriage and my husband’s son is also from a previous marriage. And for those wondering, obviously I recognize that my step-son is not “my son” but that doesn’t make me immune to protective and mothering instincts.

I’ve been lucky enough to watch “J” grow, albeit from a distance, over the last eight years, and I confess that I’m completely smitten with him. His quick mind and generous heart are a wonder to behold. I am utterly grateful to have found Chooch, and that we were able to make a path to each other through painful broken marriages. The greatest gift beyond Chooch’s love has been J.

Being 9 when my sister was born, the mothering instinct was nurtured in me as I helped my busy parents care for her and keep the house running while they both worked full-time and went to college. It’s impossible to keep my heart from melting against the uber-cuteness of children with their wide eyes and even wider hearts. I’m sure I appear rude to friends that I tend to greet the kids before the adults, but I just can’t help myself.

All that aside, there is a very special place in my heart for my brother’s kids. While his two sons are his biologically, his daughters are actually step-daughters that have been in our lives since they were about 2 and 4 years old. Fast forward 18 or so years, and it’s just family as we know it. In fact, after his marriage to the girls’ mother ended he didn’t even question whether or not to continue supporting them in his home for a long time before they moved out on their own.

I’ve been very lucky in that I’ve always lived very close to my family, so we’ve always shared holidays with my brother’s family and children. Until recently, this included Easter and Thanksgiving but now primarily means Christmas as relationships and circumstances have evolved over recent years.

This Christmas will be a tough one, as it is the first that I won’t see my beloved nieces. One moved to Montana with her husband and child (Baby J) and is expecting their second child. My other niece moved to Nebraska, where her mother and mother’s family lives. Neither have plans to return to Virginia for Christmas.

I’ve been in denial about not having these two darling spirits at the family dinner, snacking on giant olives or fussing to get huge slices of my cheesecake as they fill me in on the new things in their lives. Yes, I took special time with them before they moved away to teach them to bake the secret family cheesecake recipe for themselves, but it’s not the same. It will be the first Christmas that I can remember in about 18 years that we’ll be apart from them and their crazy ways.

I remain selfishly grateful that it appears as if my oldest nephew will not be starting his military career until after Christmas. I just want one more with him before he goes off into the too-dangerous world. My younger nephew is only six months older than LT so we expect many more family Christmas parties with him. *crosses fingers*

But seeing the boys is complicated now, as they will also visit their mother for a portion of the school break. Coordination is underway for my two boys to be in Virginia before my nephews leave to visit their mother, but it’s not a definite. These four boys have been best friends since birth, and I hate that they will likely only see other other twice a year rather than every other weekend or so.

And, yes. I know these are natural changes. Children grow to adulthood, if you’re lucky, and they go off in the world to make their own lives. I just didn’t expect two of them to do so within a month. But life is about change, and I either have to adapt or wallow in sadness. And I refuse to wallow. Life is far too short for such foolishness.

In trying to embrace the changes, I’m laying plans with a family friend for a spring road trip to visit my nieces, sometime between their birthdays and the birth of my great-niece. I get teary eyed just thinking of having another beautiful girl in the family and can’t wait to meet her. And once the semester ends, I’m going to have the time to take my nephews to lunch or movies or whatever other bribery is necessary to carve some time out of their lives. They are boys, after all.

So I raise my glass of decaf iced tea and toast all the wondrous children that I’ve been lucky enough to watch grow over the years. They are each a constant delight and shocking surprise as they evolve from wee little ones. They may not be mine, but I carry them in my heart just the same.

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5k Chooch Computer Exercise Firsts Health No Whining

Thanksgiving 5k Race Results

Chooch and I headed out early on Thanksgiving morning for the local Turkey Trot. It was cold, but we’ve run in colder and felt well prepared for it. I had my mittens and my hoodie over yoga pants and long sleeve race t-shirt. I had been tempted to wear shorts, as I’d overheard a hard-core runner tell incredulous friends at a January race in 25 degree weather that he runs faster in shorts because after a while he can’t feel his leg soreness due to numbness. Luckily, I’m not that insane. I haven’t baby stepped my way back to 5k’s by taking risks that could cause a long-term setbacks.

I was super excited because this was my first race since all the silly health drama started. We had to forfeit our registration in 2009 as that was the beginning of my health issues and I was having a ton of tests for scary illnesses being run. I was not running, exercising or psychologically prepared in any way last Thanksgiving.

This year’s race was held at a new location on an unfamiliar route, and I secretly hoped there wouldn’t be many hills since I seem to have knee pain more on the hilly routes. I’ve altered my stride when going down hill using lessons learned while covering hilly lands in the Lord of the Rings Online MMORPG. Laugh if you like, but in game you can run up hills as fast as you like, but running downhill at the same speed you’ll get a “broken bone” injury.  I now take what I call “gentler landings” and I’m already seeing improvement. Genius that I am, it took me forever to put the two together, and maybe they are unrelated but I’m certainly having less knee issues since I’ve made the change.

We made our way to the race start to pick up the optional race time chips. These are small, lightweight loaner chips you strap to your ankle to track your start/finish time since it’s impossible for everyone to cross the start line at exactly the same time. It also allows you to track your pace. After the race, the results are provided with your race time and pace. I have no expectation of having a winning race time, rather this is how I track my progress across races, as do many others.

We next headed over to the start line along with the other racers and walkers. We again survived the push and shove of over-adrenalized and aggressive runners wanting to start as close to the front as possible. Having been stuck behind walkers and strollers in the past, I can understand wanting to ensure you don’t have to try and run an obstacle course to keep your running pace. Still, there is no need for such rudeness. Personally, I would prefer if they said, “Excuse me, but you’re clearly not an elite athlete so I’d like to get in front of you now so I won’t have to run around you in a few minutes.” I’d find it far less rude than people averting their eyes as they elbow past. Chooch and I just shook our heads and laughed at their need to be “first” at the start. They should consider arriving earlier next time. Just sayin’.

The race started and off we went at a steady pace. Chooch was having trouble breathing because of his recent illness, and we’d already discussed the possibility of me continuing running if he needed to walk. I’m supremely proud of him pushing past the 1 mile marker before stopping to catch his breath and I continued on alone.

I had no music with me, so I just ran with the street noise and conversations of runners around me. I told myself I could stop when something hurt. I told myself I could stop at the water station at the 1.5 mile mark, but only for 10 seconds. I never had pain, only muscle fatigue. And I was stopped less than 5 seconds at the water station. Adrenaline wouldn’t let me stand still for long while the clock was ticking, but I truly needed water for my throat. The cold air had my throat very sore and very dry, but three sips were all I needed and off I went. Honestly, if I didn’t think it was bad manners to snatch a cup from a volunteer, suck it down and throw it on the ground as so many other runners do, then I wouldn’t have stopped at all. I make sure and say thank you and put the cup in the trash next to the station and continue on my way. Nope, I’ll never win any races that way. And nope, I don’t care.

I’m very happy to report that I ran the entire 5k for the very first time. And the race results showed that I solidly beat my previous best time by more than six minutes. I still have a very slow pace, but I’m thrilled with these improvements. Chooch also had a great improvement on his last race time and I’m proud of him for going when he had an excuse not to go. He’s got a warrior spirit, just as I’ve always known.

I also want to give a Universal thank you to those that cheer for runners along the route. As with all the races I’ve done, there were people that had put up signs or were standing outside on the streets or their porches lending their strength to us as we plodded past. I’ve always appreciated it, as it does indeed add a spring to this gal’s step.

I know hubby took a tally of the oddly costumed folks at the race, and I’m hoping he’ll post those in the comments. There was one very memorable one that had us laughing and wishing we could snag a photo, but it wasn’t meant to be.

The next race is in 2 weeks, and I’m not so cocky as to feel that my successful completion is assured. Even if I’m a bit slower, or can’t run the whole damned thing, I’m just happy to be in motion again.

Baby steps, indeed.

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Anti-Health Chooch Cooking Dessert Hacks Friends Health No Whining Our Kids

Thanksgiving Eve Thoughts

Like kajillions of other folks, I’ll be working in the kitchen today for more than just normal meal preparation. With Thanksgiving already upon us and day two of brain pain, I’m glad that I only have minimal work to do.

I’m not hosting dinner, so we’re only bringing a few sides and two desserts. And while I’m grateful for this lighter load, I’m even more grateful for the company we’ll be in tomorrow.

This year, my baking list includes two PiCakes (PiCakes = term my husband coined describing stand-alone cherpumple inspired layers). I won’t be stacking them because I want to use different frostings on them. The ChocoCan PiCake (Chocolate cake and pecan pie) will have chocolate frosting and the Spumpkin PiCake (Spice cake and pumpkin pie) will likely have vanilla. I haven’t decided yet, as I’m considering leaving it unfrosted for topping by the slice with whipped cream, in traditional pumpkin pie/Thanksgiving manner.

I’ll also be baking a sweet potato casserole. I’d intended on a healthier recipe, but am having second thoughts as I hate to serve an untested recipe at Thanksgiving. I suppose this is the ideal venue for it, as the diners are an adventurous sort and Lord knows there will be plenty of other tasty food to eat if it’s not as tasty as I hope.

Besides beer and wine, we’re also bringing a simple green salad. I’m hoping to find and whip up a yummy mustard vinaigrette to go along with it. I fell in love with it at the Dogfish Head restaurant a few weeks ago and want some of my own. If you have a tried and true recipe that you want to share, please let me know in the comments!

In the morning, Chooch and I will do the annual Turkey Trot 5k race. It’s the third year we’ve been registered, but we had to skip it last year because of my then new-and-unknown illness. Since I stopped waiting around to get better, I’ve been “training” for it for months. Knee and back problems have hindered me of late so I’m not where I’d hoped to be, but I’m still thrilled to be able to do it. Just crossing my fingers that this downgraded migraine will subside and let me actually run it.

As has been the case for the last four Thanksgivings, Mom is heavily on my mind. We used to bake together in preparation for Thanksgiving and knowing that another year is passing without her is not an easy one to wrap my mind around. Hell, as recently as last week, I had to correct myself when I said “… my parent’s house…”.  On the one hand, I know I need to find out how to accept on a subconscious level that she’s gone. On the other hand, I just don’t want to. It’s hard to give up the comforting feeling of unconditional love from knowing that there’s this person out there that loved you before you had a name or even took your first breath. She loved me at just the thought of my existence, and that’s a heady feeling. I’ll be grateful for her for the rest of my life and refuse to let sadness take the day. I instead choose to celebrate her and all that her life meant to others. <3 Pocket Mom!

In the spirit of the holiday, I’d like to share some of the things I’m grateful for on this day:
~ That my family is healthy and happy, in spite of the bumps on our paths. I love them all, for their perfections and their flaws.
~ The amazing friends I’ve somehow lucked into finding. Whether its my friend of 22 years or friends I’ve made this year, I can’t help but reflect that this is one of the richest times in my life. I’m inspired, challenged and emboldened by them all.
~ Three handsome boys that break my heart from longing to see them and heal it just by existing. Regardless of the distance, they are the spring in my step and I can’t imagine my life without them in it.
~ My husband, for all that he is and wants to be. I pledge my turtle love. Forever.

Dear Reader, know that whether you are traveling or staying at home, I heap blessings upon you for a safe and happy holiday.

Categories
Chooch Dizzy Health No Whining

Going Off Preventative Meds

I was all ready to go into the doctor’s appointment and fight for his approval in going off the two preventative medications that I’m currently on to combat my vestibular migraines (dizziness, migraines, fatigue, occasional nausea when the dizziness is extreme). I was actually disappointed when he didn’t argue. It seems we’ve exhausted the meds I can take that won’t wreak havoc on other minor health issues I have. I think he was disappointed as well, because he wasn’t able to give me relief after all this time. I actually felt kinda bad by the end of it, as if I were firing him which isn’t the case. I still feel like he’s done and is doing everything possible. I haven’t completely decided if I’ll return to him or seek a new neurologist of this continues. I’ll likely do both.

We worked out a plan for the next three months: I’m to wean off one medication over the next 2 weeks. Then I start to wean down off the other over a couple weeks. Then we just wait and see what happens. It could take a month or so from that point for all that stuff to be out of my system and to be able to get a clear baseline as things stand now.

If it’s bad, I can go back and try something else, but for now I’ve got an appointment in February to discuss the results. This allows three months to wean down and “normalize”. I’ve also got a non-prescription route I can try before returning to him. And there’s acupuncture, which I’m leery of but know folks that have had great results.

For for those keeping score, this change will remove two medications for a total of five pills a day. I will hopefully be able to drop 3 other daily pills and an every-other-day pill that are needed for side effects. *crossing fingers*

I’m really excited to see if this change also lifts the persistent brain fog or if that is part of the condition or whatever it is that I have. I’m really tired of feeling stupid for not being able to remember things or make simple mental maneuvers.

And yes, I’m nervous about what I’ll be dealing with when the meds are out of my system. As I told my doctor, it’s possible that the medications are tremendously helpful and I just don’t know it. While I’m hopeful that the condition resolved itself already and that it’s the pills (with listed side effects of dizziness and headaches) making me feel so crappy, I know that it’s more likely that they are not. But it’s been a year, and I feel I have to try, especially since nothing has allowed life to resume normally.

One interesting tidbit – interesting to me, at least: One of the things the doc always does is a test of my balance, motor skills, eye movements, etc.,. It’s simply done in the room, and I was pretty proud that I was able to do everything with coordination, including standing still with my eyes closed. I felt like I stood stock still, like a soldier at attention. Chooch informed me later that this was not so. Apparently, I was swaying dramatically. I didn’t even feel it. Now I’m left to wonder how much my body automatically compensates for the dizziness after all this time, and how accustomed I’ve become that I don’t even notice something like swaying. Crazy.

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Books Dizzy Exercise Health Hobby No Whining Work

Saying Yes to Exercise and No to NaNo

It’s National Novel Writing Month, which is a program that tries to get folks that want to write a novel motivated enough to put aside excuses and start writing. There are a few general rules, but it boils down to solo writing a minimum of 50,000 words of a new story in 30 days. It’s held every November and you can find much more information and still join at www.nanowrimo.org. And don’t fret about already being behind. There’s no such thing as being ahead or behind, in my opinion. It’s too easy to catch up or fall behind to either beat yourself up or take it easy. Just keep writing and don’t stress about word counts.

It’s a fantastic program, with tons of support, tips and advice available on their forums. I participated in 2008 and 2009, having won in 2009. By the way, winning simply means that you were able to write 50,000 words. I cannot recommend this adventure highly enough. Many write to have a novel to publish or podcast, but mine was purely cathartic. I will never show the novel to anyone other than my hubby, but it is still something I’m extremely proud of having written. It healed some uglies on my inside, which was the point.

This year, between college courses, doing freelance work for Patrick McLean, managing my health issues and a household, my schedule is very tight and I’m very behind on everything. That is why I decided over a month ago that I wasn’t going to do NaNoWriMo. Then I got this idea for a story that has been tinkling in the back of my mind, nearly constantly. I decided to try NaNo, even though knew that I wouldn’t win. There’s just not enough time. I figured any words I got down by tapping into the collective community support would be a win in my situation. Besides, I won last year when I was just starting down the path of finding out what my illness was, so why not?

Why not? Well, in my time calculations, I left out exercise. My work outs take a big toll on my day. The exercise time itself isn’t so bad, but the recovery time after I exercise is the big time suck. I’m dizzy, migraine-y and extremely fatigued so I just grab a tall cool drink and relax until the extreme symptoms pass. It can take anywhere from half an hour to two hours for this to happen before I can resume my day. On rare occasions, it doesn’t pass and my day is shot, other than being proud of myself for the workout.

My total exercise time includes stretching, anywhere from 40 minutes to an hour on the street or up to 90 minutes on the recumbent bike (when I’m too dizzy to run, I just hold on and pedal), stretching after, the Hundred Push-Up Challenge, core stretches and 100 or more crunches. This is every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. After class on Tuesdays and Thursdays I take long neighborhood walks (3 mile minimum), do arm weights and floor work (stretches/crunches/core work). I try and do a long walk at least one day on the weekend, but that rarely works out with our busy schedule of late. If anything is planned for the afternoon or evening I just can’t risk having to cancel if my symptoms don’t clear up.

I follow this schedule as closely as I can. On average, I have to cancel a workout a few times a week because of a migraine or dizziness that has me nauseous. Last week, I only worked out four days instead of the planned six. Because of the unpredictable variable, I give my all when I work out, reminding myself that it may be the last one for several days.

I am nearly ALWAYS dizzy after a workout, sometimes leading to a migraine and/or extreme fatigue and sometimes not. This is the reason I gave up going to the track. It’s not safe to drive after I exercise because of the dizziness, so I only do neighborhood workouts now.

Now, I did attempt some writing on Monday, which was the start of NaNoWriMo. I spent most of the time researching my naming convention for my characters but did manage to get a little over 200 words down. I was happy for that, as I needed to get the image down before I forgot it. Migraine had me put it away at that point.

Yesterday was extreme dizziness and migraine, so I missed class and skipped exercise. No words written as any amount of time on the computer and the bright glow from it spiked the brain pain and the meds were completely useless. I was starting to stress over getting even my reduced goals met. It occurred to me that I could regain some time for writing by cutting back on exercise. When I realized that was the only way to find writing time, I knew it was time to walk away from NaNo this year. Exercise is the only thing that brings me any sense of normalcy right now. Even though it has gotten to extreme levels of illness, my doctor fully endorses it and believes as I do that improving my overall health will make my life better.

I still have some writing to do before I put it away. There are some scenes that I’ve got to get typed up before I forget them. And I would like to name all the characters, as I think that will help give them flavor as I give the story itself time to simmer away in the back of my mind.

As I planned a few months ago, I’ll likely pick a month in the Spring as my own personal NaNoWriMo. November is hell for this type of thing, in my life anyways, with the holidays so close that you can taste them. And plan for them. And clean for them. And decorate, and stress, and… you get the idea.

Reply in the comments if you’d like to write along with me in the Spring. April has thirty days, right?

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Breast Cancer Chooch Exercise Family Health Mom No Whining Soulful Uncategorized

Taking Back November 1st

Today is the 8th anniversary of the first date that Chooch and I went on. We were already in love, thanks to our long distance courting, but it was still a first date. Full of nerves and awkwardness in spite of all the times we’d hung out over the previous year.

Today is our 7th wedding anniversary. We didn’t plan for it to be exactly one year later, it just sort of happened and we didn’t even realize the coincidence until some time later. We’re goofy like that.

Today is the 5th anniversary of the doctor telling my Mom that the cancer had won out, and there were no more treatment options available. He gave her six months, at best. She passed away 2 1/2 months later.

In the intervening years, our wedding anniversary has been bittersweet for me. My life changed in ways that I’ll never be able to truly express, and although our life isn’t perfect, it’s perfect for us. My husband has given me strength, confidence and unconditional love. He gave me wings to soar as high and fast as I wanted to, and the confidence in knowing that he will be there to catch me if I fall. I don’t speculate on whether or not he’ll be there, as we’ve done that for each other countless times over our short time together.

In fact, I always have add the years up a couple times, as it seems so short. We joke that we were already married before he even crossed the country to live here, so completely devoted and comfortable were we with each other. We feel like we’ve been together forever, and in a good way. I have complete and utter faith in his devotion, something I’ve never had before.

But since the day we learned that hope for my Mom was gone, it’s also been tinged with pain. I may write about that later, but for now I want to focus on what November 1, 2010 has become, as of this moment.

I’ve now deemed it my day of freedom. It sounds nonsensical, and the steps that led me to it may not suss out on close inspection, but that’s what it is.

This morning, with Chooch fighting some nasty cooties, I headed out for our usual run alone. My back has been bothering me since last week so I didn’t even take Kaylee along. As I headed out the door, I realized to my horror that my iPod battery was dead. No Couch to 5k coaching for me, and no music play list, either. I debated waiting until later when it was charged, but as I was in my gear already, I headed out. I decided on the longer route, because I was alone. It’s my favorite route, but Chooch doesn’t usually have time before work and since it’s over three miles I have to take a water container when Kaylee is with me. I was free to do it, so I did.

Without Robert Ullrey to prompt me, I decided to just run until I couldn’t run anymore, then walk the rest of the way. This is a very hilly route, and I just hoped to run for 15 minutes. When I finally stopped, I had run for just over 36 minutes, passing my starting point. This is my personal best on running time, especially impressive with the size of the hills. And I don’t just mean since I got hit with this weird illness a year ago — this is my all-time longest running time.

As is usual, when I’ve visualized a landmark goal and I start to think I won’t make it, I chant to myself. It’s different things, but usually at the really hard push it’s something along the lines of taking steps that Mom could no longer take, and that she couldn’t take for the last 2 1/2 months of her life, since she lost the ability to walk. It may sound creepy, but it works and I take great pride in taking those steps for her.

Reflecting on this, as I walked in my state of shock at beating my personal best by a significant number, I’ve decided to change my attitude about November 1st. Maybe it’s the approaching holidays, or maybe it was because I so much time working on the interview I did for the Breast Cancer Awareness Month topic for my Girls’ Rules Podcast, but I’ve been missing her and thinking of her so much these last few weeks. While Chooch and I celebrate our marriage, I also grieve this day as when we lost hope for Mom.

In taking back the day, I will instead focus on it being the day that she was granted freedom. She no longer had to worry about the petty concerns of living — her lifelong struggle with weight, managing the household and most importantly being strong for those of us that she loved so completely. She finally let me take burdens from her, as they were no longer her concern. She became focused in the now, and anything beyond the door to her hospital room was not her concern, once she knew that my dad was going to be okay without her there to do almost everything in the running of the house.

Reclaiming this day is already taking a lot of self-convincing to maintain, and I was crying while trying to explain it to my patient and loving Chooch. But it’s something that I need to do, because I know my Mom. She doesn’t want me crying for her on my anniversary. Knowing how much she loved me and Chooch, and how much she loved us being together, I know she wants us to celebrate our love and the unlikely circumstances that brought us together. So I’m letting go of all that pain from that day five years ago. I’m setting myself free, as I know she would do for me if she could.

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Family Friends No Whining Our Kids

Baby Days

Saturday was a rarity for us. Although we know lots of people with short ones, spending an entire day with babies is not a common occurrence for us. We spent the afternoon at a birthday party for the two year old daughter of dear friends, and there were two other adorable wee ones in attendance. Watching them laugh, play, fuss, fight over toys and then laugh again is something that will lift 20 years from your age as you giggle at their antics and try to keep up.

In the evening, we were with two other adorable babes as they grinned, giggled and danced the night away.Wave after wave of miniature cuteness from the day carried me away to the point that I looked at Chooch and said, “Really? We’re done having kids?” He gave me a suspicious look as he said, with much finality, “Yes.”

I was as surprised as he was at my question, but the feeling passed as I reminded myself that we made that decision long ago in the hopes of better providing for the children we already have from previous marriages. It was the right decision, especially with the weird medical stuff we’re going through right now and the added difficulty of having our three boys all living so far from us. I’m sure that my constant missing of them contributed to my brief baby craving, and no matter how much time I spend with other people’s kids, it just doesn’t soothe that longing. If anything it makes it more poignant.

No whining – this is my life and I’ve got much to be thankful for, including the health and happiness of the three magnificent young men in my life and heart. Everything else is gravy.

Besides, I’ll be a grandmother someday. Then I’ll be free to purely spoil, rather than parent, the sweet wee ones. That certainly seems like something that is worth waiting for.

Categories
5k Chooch Dizzy Health No Whining

Health Update

My neurologist appointment this morning went well. I’ve seen a general decrease in the severity of the migraines, but the number remains the same and the dizziness has increased. We talked for a long while about the effectiveness since the dosage increase, along with the side effects that I’m dealing with and we made a few changes. He’s lowering the dosage back down and adding a new medication, one that we hadn’t discussed before now. The side effects it may present are much more tolerable than what I’m dealing with now. Unless I have a bad reaction I’ll be weaned off the old and increase the dosage of the other until I’m only taking the new stuff.

We also discussed alternative medicine options again and all in all, I’m happy with the new treatment plan. At this point, I’m not expecting to have a treatment that will make everything “normal” again. I just want something that allows more … just more.  I’m feeling generally limited in what I can do, and yes I realize how good my life is and how lucky I am in nearly every way. It doesn’t mean I can’t want more. Every time I get excited about some new physical activity that I want to try I have to remind myself that I will have, at the very least, limitations on how far I can push myself. Have no doubt, I will do it, I just have to be cautious.

Back to the doctor in six weeks, to see how the treatment is going. My only real concern is that these changes will muck with my ability to drive to class. Luckily, the instructor has already promised to work with me if this happens, which gives me great relief.

For those new to my blog, I’ve had severe dizziness, migraines, fatigue, etc.,. for almost a year. I’ve been unable to return to full time work, and my civil service job is gone. (My bosses were fantastically supportive, but they do have a mission to accomplish and need an ass in the seat doing the job.) After a plethora of testing, which ruled out a multitude of horrors including MS, cancer, brain hemorrhage, Lyme disease, etc., I’ve been diagnosed with vestibular migraines and neurocardiogenic syncope. Basically translates to – a tired and dizzy chick that gets migraines and may faint.

I’m continuing the search for treatment that will allow more normalcy so I can return to the work force, and instead of waiting around for that to magically happen, I’m taking two classes this semester towards better employment when I am well enough to work again. One is online and the other is easily converted to online, to accommodate my symptoms and inability to drive while dizzy.

I’m also pissed enough at the hard lost weight that has returned that I recently got moving again by re-re-re-starting the Couch to 5k running program, but I only do it when Chooch can go with me because I am typically pretty sick at the end of it.

On an unrelated note, I saw Christmas stuff being laid out in the stores already. Does anyone else wonder where 2010 went?

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Forty-One and Loving It, aka My Life is Effing Metal

Today is my birthday, so I thought I would write a post on something simple, pure and unexpected I experienced this morning. A smile.

As background, for the last 20 or so years, around the time I became pregnant with my first child, I’ve had only a few treasured friends, barely enough to fill one hand’s worth of fingers. I had MANY friends prior to the pregnancy, but I wanted to clear out those influences I didn’t want around the precious life I was carrying. No one was more surprised than I at the tiny percentage that particular qualifier left me with by the time Naughty Bear arrived. Of those remaining few, only one has survived since then, and “Y-vette” and I are celebrating our 21st year of loving and supportive friendship this month.

In recent years, I find myself somehow blessed because I’m surrounded by remarkable people that I have no hesitation in calling True Friends. I’ll grudgingly admit that in the ramp-up phase, I opened myself up in a trusting way to people I felt a connection with, and that has left me incredibly hurt and burned by some. Sorry to break it to some of you, but this isn’t a “naming names” post, especially because I still care deeply for these people and wish them only happiness. It just wasn’t a dynamic that worked, for whatever reason. Some have decided that I’m unkind and vilified me for being honest about this rather than pretending a deeper relationship existed when it didn’t. One of the more surprising things I’ve learned is that some don’t want to see the truth, while that is all I want at this stage of my life.

Yesterday, we were able to see some of the people that bring me the most joy in my life. It was a tangible and much needed reminder that genuine connections do exist. I honor and protect those connections, and work very hard not to take them for granted. They are rare and precious, but I am simply not a wordsmith that can craft the phrases to express how much it means to me. I’ll explain it this way:
This is actually a day that I was dreading, not because I’m getting older or for fear of any number. I embrace 41 as I embraced 40 last year, with welcoming arms. But instead of waking with sadness and eventual tears, as I actually expected, I found myself instead waking with memories of shared laughter and contentment. Color me every shade of surprised to discover an actual smile on my face as I awoke.

For those that have sent my kind words, birthday wishes before I even awoke, and any kind of amazing support through the difficult year, know that I am more grateful than I can express. Whether we have actually met or not, I am constantly amazed at the richness that podcasting and social media has brought to my life.

And for those genuine friendships I have somehow found myself blessed with, whether you were there yesterday or not, whether you are now in Heaven or still on this Earth, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the love and beauty you bring to my life.

*Note: I’ve turned comments off, for my own reasons, but if you feel compelled to respond you can email me at vivmuse@gmail.com.*