Limping Along

Well, tis the season for sitting on Santa's lap. We took the kids to visit and get their photo this weekend.
I got a special surprise when two of my "other children" gave me a special photo of them sitting on Santa's lap. I laughed so hard it hurt. It doesn't take much. They really aren't kids at all, as the photo will tell, but I have the great pleasure of working with them and supervising them.


I have to admit that my previous optimism over my health problems has waned over the past few days. Unfortunately, I had placed too much stock and hope in the second opinion I went for from a neurologist in Portland. I realized too late that I had been expecting that visit to be the light at the end of the tunnel and hadn't really prepared myself for anything but that. He wasn't bad, but certainly not promising in delivering any more answers. He wasn't even willing to answer me when I asked outright what the worst case scenario is, and if the possibility exists that I could die. I don't spend too much time contemplating dying, but it does occasionally enter my mind that the longer I wait for answers, the further along something catastrophic could be getting. It hasn't helped that my current pain medications are starting to fail and I am struggling to even walk now. I have accepted that I likely have a permanent limp and I can handle that, but the pain is not something I am willing to accept. I use a cane to walk in the house and now have to seriously consider if I am ready to start using it in public. I also have a tremor in my hand that before came and went, but now seems to be here for good. The neurologist told me that I have carpal tunnel syndrome and even suggested that my tremor might be anxiety. That was just plain stupid! First of all, the fact that I have carpal tunnel is not even worth my time to think about. It is so mild compared to everything else that I could care less about it. Second of all, the only thing I even worry about is talking to doctors, since everything else seems mild in comparison. If it was anxiety, I can't help but think it would be in both hands, not just in my affected side. I don't believe I even have the ability to be stressed or anxious about life and work, even though he kept alluding to the idea that I have a stressful job.

I have learned to live in the moment and really think only about today, every day. I have found ways to be nurturing and available to my children that don't need much physical exertion. In a nutshell, I have LET GO of many of my own expectations and worrying about whether people think I am a good mother, wife or employee. That is one of the positive changes I have seen from all of this. For the first time I have realized what it means to really stop and "smell the roses". I sit more and listen to my children, watching and just letting them know that I love them. It's hard to believe that before I was so busy trying to be "Supermom" that I missed many of the really special moments. Yeah, my house isn't as clean, but overall it isn't bad. I just take shortcuts wherever I can. I am still hopeful (naive?) but discouraged with the doctors. I have so many things in life to be grateful for and I don't intend to let anything stop me from enjoying them. I am not sure what the next step is for me with doctors and testing, but I guess in a few days I'll figure it out and move on. For today, I will do my best to muddle through the pain and look forward to celebrating my birthday with Eric for a few days in Kennebunkport.

Johnny the Superhero

I have only gotten to wear 2 johnny's this week, that is if you consider the cape like contraption I wore today a johnny. (Of course, it is only Thursday so there is hope I'll get called to wear another one tomorrow!) The nurse called it a Johnny, but it was really a cape with one tiny snap in the front. If it hadn't been covered in brightly colored flowers, was made of yarn and worn over the rest of my clothing, I may have actually liked it. I wore this for my mammogram and at one point when the nurse had flipped it back over my shoulders I told her I felt like a superhero with a flowery cape. The really great news is that my mammogram came out positive, nothing to worry about. And, if I do say so myself, my boobs look even better on film!

Yesterday I had a second cortisone shot in my neck. Since I was well prepared for the johnny and the back bearing, I had Eric write out a message for the doctor on my back. It said, "What's up Doc?" I think the doctor must expect just about anything because he took it in stride, even though I have noticed that he has a great sense of humor. Speaking of humor, the amount of time I spend going to doctors and the hospital for tests is getting beyond ridiculous. That and the frequent phone calls. When I told the receptionist at work I was going to the hospital again today she just shook her head in dismay. I told her I like to spend my spare time there, and I am getting to know a lot of people. Next week I have two appointments, so far. It's almost hard to believe that a year ago I would've done just about anything to avoid doctors and didn't take any medications, not even a vitamin. I don't even sweat it anymore when I have to bare naked parts, get injected, or subject myself to boob smooshage.

I have been working on knitting but things are getting done much slower than usual. I went through a knitting funk for a week or so where nothing seemed to turn out right. I started a second sock for "Mini Me" and realized that somehow I had counted wrong and had done several more rows of ribbing than I was supposed to. I switched over to a pair of mitts for my nephew but couldn't seem to get into it. It suddenly came to me a few nights ago that I really needed to knit with something extra soft and that would fix my "problem". I immediately came up with an idea and resurrected the angora that I bought at Spa last year. That seems to be just what I needed. I am making a hooded scarf with it and I'm almost done with the hood! I had forgotten how soft and utterly amazing this yarn is to knit with. I am already trying to think of another project so I can pick up some more at SPA this year. Eventually, I'll need to finish the sock and the mitts. I think my nephew will cast me out of the family if I don't make him those mitts soon. I have worked on several smaller projects and I am totally itching to make a sweater. I haven't decided what sweater I'll make, but immediately after the Xmas knitting is done, I will be casting on.

It's a birthday tree

When I was a child and went to visit my grandparents one of the things we would do around this time of year was go out and cut a birthday tree for my mother and I. My grandmother died when I was 8 and my grandfather died a year later when I was 9. Although the house my grandfather built was still in the family, there wasn't the same tie that brought us all together at that house in North New Portland.
Today Eric and I took the kids up there for the first time. We went up Millay Hill Road, where generations of my mother's family lived, back then without electricity or plumbing. In recent years electricity has been brought part way up the hill but there is still this vast forest up that hill that is relatively untouched and primitive. My cousin and his wife live up there, a hefty walk into the woods with solar panels providing electricity and hot water. My grandparents house is at the bottom of the hill, currently owned by another cousin and occupied only a few times a year. Across the field is a farm house where my great grandmother lived when I was very young.
It was hard to imagine that I had never brought my children there before. Tradition is very important to me and I try to pass on as much to my children as I can. Even though 25 years have passed since my grandparents were alive, the land and house still hold vivid memories for me. It was a long drive, 2 hours each way, to get a birthday tree. But the tree is special, because it came from Millay Hill Road in North New Portland, one of the most special places on earth. It's been over 25 years since I have had one of these.

Johnny my love

I've gotten one on my neck, one on my hip, three on my lower back, and today I got one on my chest. Nope, those aren't tattoos, those are the x-rays I have gotten over the past few months. Two were just this week. By the time I was crawling into my third johnny of the week earlier today, I couldn't help but hum that ol' Liz Fair tune, "Dance of the Seven Veils"
Johhny my love, get out of the business
It makes me wanna rough you up so badly
Makes me wanna roll you up in plastic
Toss you up and pump you full of lead

This was moments after a phone conversation with my PCP where she was instructing me to go for the chest x-ray and telling me it's time to get "aggressive". I adore her, but part of me wanted to say "huh huh, when did that become apparent?" I am thinking of the mounting medical bills from all of the CT scans, lumbar puncture, blood tests, EMG, nerve conduction and x-rays. Not to mention the several doctors and physical therapy, which I failed. Not only am I getting weary of the radiology dept at CMMC and inconclusive tests, but dammit I HATE johnny's!

Earlier this week I donned one to get a cortisone shot in my neck, where I might have arthritis. I am waiting patiently for that to work so that I can go next week to do it all again. I am also waiting for the radiology dept to tell me when I can pay them another visit for a diagnostic mammogram and an ultrasound of my heart. The mammogram is on the advice of my neurologist deciding that although he doesn't think I have breast cancer, he can't figure out what might me causing my problems so maybe I have breast cancer, of course, not that he thinks so, but it could explain those things. (that was almost a direct quote, without the hands up in the air, baffled look attached) It's almost become an office joke that I spend all my lunches at the doctor's or radiology dept. Sometimes I do both. I am not concerned so much about the breast cancer, since I have almost had MS, arthritis, fibromayalgia, swollen lymph nodes and probably a few other things I've forgotten. I definitely have pinched nerves and can't walk without limping, but I don't know why. I've come to the conclusion that it's better not to worry until I get something worth worrying about.

The highlight of my adventures to the x-ray room was definitely today. Usually I get to keep my bra on under my johnny, but not today. No, I got to bare all under that bare thread tablecloth with strings I had wrapped around me. Not only did I get to sport that God awful contraption in an upright position, but the x-ray was pointing right at the spot that would prove to the world that my anatomy is not quite as perky as it used to be. The part that almost did me in (sometimes I swear I'm going to laugh myself to death) was when I got to sit in a chair a few feet away from some workmen doing demolition on the x-ray room. Yes, I must have looked so regal there in my johnny, boobs on my lap staring awkwardly askance, pretending to have a great fascnination with the clock, strategically keeping my gaze away from the men at work. One thing I have learned, modesty flies out of the window when you have the "great mysterious illness".

But no matter what, I will still reign supreme as the Queen of the backyard hot tub!