Throughout life, there is instilled in (most of) us a challenge to be the best that one can. Abject perfectionists need not apply, I'm referring to each person's innate pride on a job well done, on whatever terms they think that is. (Not to be confused with haughty, puffed-up pride, which benefits no one). It feels good to do something right. Admittedly, for some the personal bar of "excellence" is set rather low in comparison to mainstream society ~ but, then again, that is not necessarily a bad thing depending on exactly what the situation is.
*soapbox* If "excellence" for one means never applying one's self and apathy to consistently cranking out a crappy job, then that's not an area to low-ball in. Part of (only part of) the driving factor in this economic problem in the U.S. is a percentage of the workforce is demanding larger paychecks, but they don't actually do the work that would warrant the salary. This idea that "the big guys" can afford it pervades nearly every large company on some level (sometimes quite close to the top), and when people take pens, merchandise, printer paper, etc., and don't do their work they're getting paid to do ~ yeah it seems like small potatoes but it adds up. And if the work isn't getting done correctly, whatever services or products the company provides likewise are going to decline in quality or sometimes literally in amount. This inevitably leads to lay-offs so the company can try to stay afloat. During which the same people who are robbing the company, both of quality work and literally in materials, are the first people who will complain about it. *end soapbox* Now, on the flip side, if "excellence" means the dismissal of religious ideas in favor of whatever the current scientific paradigm is, then count me in with the "slacker", low-baller crowd.
This quest for excellence can be on a personal level, whether it involves churchwork, classwork, artwork, jobwork, or housework. It can come in the form of sporting events, in which teams or individuals vie to get a place in the ultimate reward for a great season: the championship event. The best of the best are supposed to compete head to head to determine, once and for all (for that year, anyway) who is truly the champion.
I have decided that the epic ongoing battle of the potty-trainees vs. the potty-trained falls in this category somewhere ~ it is, after all, an internationally recognized, time-honored event ~ and therefore must have a name fitting of its place alongside other famous, often grueling events such as "The World Cup", or "The Presidential Election". Therefore I present you with the latest installment of what is coming to simply be known as: The Toilet Bowl.
In today's skirmish:
The potty-trained, "home" team: Mom!
And, the opposing potty-trainee team: A and K! Represented in today's play-offs by A.
This morning's colossal matchup was destined to test the patience of both teams. The home team had studied up on the various plays commonly made by the potty-trainees, and Mom's eagle eye had caught the unique posturing and grunting generally associated with what is commonly known as "number two". The first play was ugly: A absolutely refused to even sit on the toilet until he was physically picked up and put there by the home team. Out of defiance, he stood up and peed all over the floor. There was some controversy over the call; the refs threw yellow flags, but the home team was most definitely seeing red.
Thus began a long and sordid battle, but, hey, aren't they all in this exhausting series? Following the urination foul, A lowered his eyebrows and glared up at the home team in a move favored by the potty-trainees. In a rare show of pique, the home team arched one eyebrow, pinched her lips together, and put the recalcitrant rear end back on the toilet ~ in all honesty, perhaps with a little more force than was really necessary, although A did fight the play by Mom. Much moaning, crying, and strange howls interspersed with still more grunts and posturing soon emanated from the opposing team ~ but the home team recognized the tactic and refused to give into A's desire to get down off of the toilet with the obviously impending discharge. Today's game saw several more rear-end replacement maneuvers by the home team.
In the end, it was a draw: nothing went into the toilet, but A sat on it for twenty minutes until he had to go catch the bus for school ~ and Mom is sporting a couple of minor injuries. Potty training is indeed a full-contact sport.... Stay tuned; we might be in for a "double-header" if sister K decides to tag-team today.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Two out of Three
So ~ A can read, at least at a beginner's level. Which, since he's not even 5 yet, I'd say he's doing pretty good.
And now, he can (sort of) write.
His OT has been working with him aggressively on this achievement, and on Tuesday he voluntarily wrote his "A" followed by an identifiable next letter, and something very close to the third one ~ but then he either lost interest, or his hand was tired so he totally flaked on the rest of his name. He can tell you how to spell it verbally, though, first and last.
So ~ woo hoo! We're getting there! Reading and writing...arithmetic is going to have to wait a bit, though. Two out of three ain't bad.
Yesterday I took advantage of the nice weather and worked outside for about 6 hours, planting and transplanting new things, and ripping the grass out of part of the front yard to extend my flower garden for next year. I didn't finish removing the sod just yet, my innards are still just a wee bit tender after having surgery a month ago ~ but the fact that I was out there is testament to the fact that I'm feeling much, much better.
K helped me while A was at school ~ she had to help me dig the holes for the mums, iris, peonies, black-eyed susans, and hostas, and put dirt back into the holes over whatever needed covering, and watering the plants in their new homes. At least, she helped me until one of those big, fuzzy, brown and black caterpillars caught her attention. She then proceeded to play with it for an hour ~ much to the caterpillar's chagrin, I'm sure. It stayed rolled up in a ball for most of the "playtime", but to her credit she was (mostly) gentle with it. All of a sudden, I realized that she was up and heading towards me, and I asked her where the caterpillar was, and she told me it was "in caterpillar's house". It took me a minute to get what she was saying. You see, we have a gravel/rock driveway, and apparently K thought Mr. (Ms?) Caterpillar needed a nice cozy home, so she built it one. I tried, but couldn't figure out exactly where it was so I could free the sucker. I'm hoping it was able to get out...
When A returned from school, Miss K went down for a much, much needed nap and A stayed outside with me. He had absolutely no interest in what I was doing, and much preferred to sit in the sandbox in the dog pen, and then go inside and watch a movie instead. Nature boy, he isn't, I guess, unless it pertains to fishing. And then, it's only with Daddy, so I suspect it's more "Daddy oriented" than an actual love of fishing.
And now, he can (sort of) write.
His OT has been working with him aggressively on this achievement, and on Tuesday he voluntarily wrote his "A" followed by an identifiable next letter, and something very close to the third one ~ but then he either lost interest, or his hand was tired so he totally flaked on the rest of his name. He can tell you how to spell it verbally, though, first and last.
So ~ woo hoo! We're getting there! Reading and writing...arithmetic is going to have to wait a bit, though. Two out of three ain't bad.
Yesterday I took advantage of the nice weather and worked outside for about 6 hours, planting and transplanting new things, and ripping the grass out of part of the front yard to extend my flower garden for next year. I didn't finish removing the sod just yet, my innards are still just a wee bit tender after having surgery a month ago ~ but the fact that I was out there is testament to the fact that I'm feeling much, much better.
K helped me while A was at school ~ she had to help me dig the holes for the mums, iris, peonies, black-eyed susans, and hostas, and put dirt back into the holes over whatever needed covering, and watering the plants in their new homes. At least, she helped me until one of those big, fuzzy, brown and black caterpillars caught her attention. She then proceeded to play with it for an hour ~ much to the caterpillar's chagrin, I'm sure. It stayed rolled up in a ball for most of the "playtime", but to her credit she was (mostly) gentle with it. All of a sudden, I realized that she was up and heading towards me, and I asked her where the caterpillar was, and she told me it was "in caterpillar's house". It took me a minute to get what she was saying. You see, we have a gravel/rock driveway, and apparently K thought Mr. (Ms?) Caterpillar needed a nice cozy home, so she built it one. I tried, but couldn't figure out exactly where it was so I could free the sucker. I'm hoping it was able to get out...
When A returned from school, Miss K went down for a much, much needed nap and A stayed outside with me. He had absolutely no interest in what I was doing, and much preferred to sit in the sandbox in the dog pen, and then go inside and watch a movie instead. Nature boy, he isn't, I guess, unless it pertains to fishing. And then, it's only with Daddy, so I suspect it's more "Daddy oriented" than an actual love of fishing.
Hello, Fall!
Here's one of the trees in our backyard. Yes, that's our garage/barn in the background ~ metal roof and all. We's country now, didn't you know?
After enjoying the last few days of our Indian Summer and upper 70's and low 80's, our weather is supposed to drop off starting this evening following some rain. We're supposed to be right at the freezing mark overnight, with highs in the upper 50's and possibly 61 one day in the next week. I figured I'd better get a couple of shots before the rain made all the leaves fall!
It's too bad you can't see these trees in person. My wimpy camera (it's one of the first digital cameras made) just can't capture the vibrancy of the colors out there, in every red, orange, yellow, and brown hue and shade possible ~ plus it's overcast today, in preparation for the coming showers. I must admit a personal fondness of the oranges and reds, as evidenced by the shots I took!
As I type this, I am looking out the back window at the lazy downward drifting of hundreds of leaves along the treeline. It looks like a moving rainbow, like some sort of surreal ballet set to strains of music that one can almost, but not quite, hear. Every time a gentle breeze comes up, still more leaves succumb to gravity, and it is literally a shower of leaves ~ almost as a portent of the imminent rain.
Every morning in the fall, fog covers part or all of the mountains that lie across the street (and about 3 miles away). I thought it looked especially interesting this morning against the now leafless branches of my neighbor's tree stretching to meet the gray sky. It looks like fall! Views like this promise future days of crisp nights, apple cider, sweaters (finally!), and snuggling in front of the fireplace.
After enjoying the last few days of our Indian Summer and upper 70's and low 80's, our weather is supposed to drop off starting this evening following some rain. We're supposed to be right at the freezing mark overnight, with highs in the upper 50's and possibly 61 one day in the next week. I figured I'd better get a couple of shots before the rain made all the leaves fall!
It's too bad you can't see these trees in person. My wimpy camera (it's one of the first digital cameras made) just can't capture the vibrancy of the colors out there, in every red, orange, yellow, and brown hue and shade possible ~ plus it's overcast today, in preparation for the coming showers. I must admit a personal fondness of the oranges and reds, as evidenced by the shots I took!
As I type this, I am looking out the back window at the lazy downward drifting of hundreds of leaves along the treeline. It looks like a moving rainbow, like some sort of surreal ballet set to strains of music that one can almost, but not quite, hear. Every time a gentle breeze comes up, still more leaves succumb to gravity, and it is literally a shower of leaves ~ almost as a portent of the imminent rain.
Every morning in the fall, fog covers part or all of the mountains that lie across the street (and about 3 miles away). I thought it looked especially interesting this morning against the now leafless branches of my neighbor's tree stretching to meet the gray sky. It looks like fall! Views like this promise future days of crisp nights, apple cider, sweaters (finally!), and snuggling in front of the fireplace.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Time Warp
I am having difficulty keeping current at the moment. I lost a couple of weeks in September, so to my brain it feels like it should only be the end of September, not nearly a third of the way through October. Time certainly flies, whether you're having fun or not!
I get a jolt every time I walk outside and see the leaves starting to change on the maples in my yard. I get a jolt when I walk through my back yard that hasn't been mowed in over a month now and the grass is up to my knees in some places. I got a jolt on Tuesday when it was 37 degrees in the morning (with a windchill of 34) before the sun came up. It's taking me some time to re-adjust, in little ways. Definitely not something I ever considered, this feels completely random.
A is doing well in school (a whole month of "green lights" for September!), and has proven to us that he can actually read. He read the first part of "The Cat In The Hat" to me, and part of "One Fish Two Fish, Red Fish Blue Fish". He also read the back of a library book to me that we'd checked out earlier in the day. Some things may be recognition, but he was also doing phonics work with his OT and spelled out "hat", "pat", "mat", and the like. (His fabulous OT has a game where you have to use bi-lateral motion to take letters from one side using a magnet on a stick and line them up to form words ~ and she pulled it out after I told her we thought he could read. Yup, he sure can!). Super exciting stuff!
A is also trying to say more things, and ask for more things. The only difficulties we have sometimes with his increased verbiage is that he'll get stuck on a phrase if our answer is "No." It's part typical kid -- repeated begging for something, hoping mom or dad will give in -- and part echololic tendency that his brain still locks into sometimes. After he gets stuck like that, then for a while ANYTHING we say he just repeats the last word or words until he can snap out of it.
Miss K is overly dramatic, exuberant, and active. Good grief! For whatever reason, her new emotion to practice is "crying". She'll walk in, with her bottom lip stuck out, and then (very exaggeratedly) collapse on the bed, couch, chair, whatever and bury her face in her hands while sounding like she's crying. When you ask her what's wrong, she picks up her head and very solemnly replies, "I'm upset. I'm crying." And then she'll bury her face again and start making sobbing sounds again. When you ask her why, you never know what her answer will be. Yesterday, she said, "I need some food to eat right now." Like she just hadn't had a snack an hour beforehand, but whatever. When she decides she's done, she just turns it off, beams happily and skips off to play. Can I get an eye roll, please?
I get a jolt every time I walk outside and see the leaves starting to change on the maples in my yard. I get a jolt when I walk through my back yard that hasn't been mowed in over a month now and the grass is up to my knees in some places. I got a jolt on Tuesday when it was 37 degrees in the morning (with a windchill of 34) before the sun came up. It's taking me some time to re-adjust, in little ways. Definitely not something I ever considered, this feels completely random.
A is doing well in school (a whole month of "green lights" for September!), and has proven to us that he can actually read. He read the first part of "The Cat In The Hat" to me, and part of "One Fish Two Fish, Red Fish Blue Fish". He also read the back of a library book to me that we'd checked out earlier in the day. Some things may be recognition, but he was also doing phonics work with his OT and spelled out "hat", "pat", "mat", and the like. (His fabulous OT has a game where you have to use bi-lateral motion to take letters from one side using a magnet on a stick and line them up to form words ~ and she pulled it out after I told her we thought he could read. Yup, he sure can!). Super exciting stuff!
A is also trying to say more things, and ask for more things. The only difficulties we have sometimes with his increased verbiage is that he'll get stuck on a phrase if our answer is "No." It's part typical kid -- repeated begging for something, hoping mom or dad will give in -- and part echololic tendency that his brain still locks into sometimes. After he gets stuck like that, then for a while ANYTHING we say he just repeats the last word or words until he can snap out of it.
Miss K is overly dramatic, exuberant, and active. Good grief! For whatever reason, her new emotion to practice is "crying". She'll walk in, with her bottom lip stuck out, and then (very exaggeratedly) collapse on the bed, couch, chair, whatever and bury her face in her hands while sounding like she's crying. When you ask her what's wrong, she picks up her head and very solemnly replies, "I'm upset. I'm crying." And then she'll bury her face again and start making sobbing sounds again. When you ask her why, you never know what her answer will be. Yesterday, she said, "I need some food to eat right now." Like she just hadn't had a snack an hour beforehand, but whatever. When she decides she's done, she just turns it off, beams happily and skips off to play. Can I get an eye roll, please?
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Num Yummy!
With the proliferation of tomatoes we've been given, I have been looking for some new ways to use them, other than making spaghetti sauce, making stuffed tomatoes, or using them for bruschetta, salads or on homemade pizza. Here's a winner!
Sweet Tomato Pie ~ uses a store-bought pie crust, a whole head of garlic, fresh basil, and Havarti cheese. Num num!
I'm still pulling tomatoes off every 2 or 3 days, 5 or 6 at a time. And there's plenty left to ripen. We're supposed to get up into the 70's again during the days towards the end of the week and starting off the next week, so we'll have plenty of time to ripen up even more.
I also found my first tomato horn worm of the year this morning, my plants have been remarkably free of pests the whole season. I have only lost two tomatoes to something eating them, and I think one was due to the groundhog that resides under the deck. Mr. (fat! enormous!) Caterpillar has gone to that great plant in the sky, and if he has any relatives lurking they are about to receive the brunt of my latent mercenary skills too. I have been well trained in the "way of the shoe". : )
Sweet Tomato Pie ~ uses a store-bought pie crust, a whole head of garlic, fresh basil, and Havarti cheese. Num num!
I'm still pulling tomatoes off every 2 or 3 days, 5 or 6 at a time. And there's plenty left to ripen. We're supposed to get up into the 70's again during the days towards the end of the week and starting off the next week, so we'll have plenty of time to ripen up even more.
I also found my first tomato horn worm of the year this morning, my plants have been remarkably free of pests the whole season. I have only lost two tomatoes to something eating them, and I think one was due to the groundhog that resides under the deck. Mr. (fat! enormous!) Caterpillar has gone to that great plant in the sky, and if he has any relatives lurking they are about to receive the brunt of my latent mercenary skills too. I have been well trained in the "way of the shoe". : )
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Down the Rabbit Hole
Forgive me, bloggers; it has been three weeks since my last session.
My surgery on the 10th went really well. While my surgeon was poking around in there, he noted that I have a lot of adhesions from my prior surgeries, most likely from the monumental screw-up that was my first C-section. He was afraid that he would do more harm than good to try to take out some of the scar tissue, though, because I might just make more scar tissue in the healing process than is already in there now. So that may cause problems down the road because my internal organs are sticking to each other; lovely. My surgeon is a veritable Pollyanna, spewing rainbows and unicorns, eh? We'll just take the stance that it will not be a problem, and move on from there.
My holes are healing nicely, although they did have to make them a little larger to get my very diseased and chock-full of rocks gallbladder out, and to check the liver for something.
My post-surgical pain meds, alas, were the source of some adventuring of the Alice In Wonderland variety. Codeine, morphine, and their derivative make me rather violently ill. So after this surgery, instead of prescribing me Oxycontin or any meds of that ilk, they decided to give me an opiate-based painkiller instead. I did not realize what it was, I was pretty out of it after the surgery. I was instructed to take one to two pills, every four to six hours. Since I am rather sensitive to most medications, I took one pill about every eight hours instead, always with food, starting Wednesday evening before sleeping in the living room recliner. My Friday (two days later) 11 p.m. dose was my last, by choice.
Shortly following the ingestion of that dose, I had both an allergic reaction and what can only be described as a "trip", a la LSD or acid. For four hours I thrashed around trying to escape the flashing blue, white, and black lights, static, voices. I felt like I was on fire, but when I touched my arms and legs they were ice cold. I also itched all over and broke out in a sweat. I had to have been hallucinating to see the dark translucent figure standing near the chair. And, I was convinced I had to keep moving my arms and legs to prevent a blood clot ~ which apparently were the nurses' last instructions when they sent me home from the hospital, I just don't remember that part. The weird thing was, I could see my husband sleeping on the couch but couldn't get his attention until about 4 a.m. when I came out of it enough to call for him.
I described what had been going on, and that I had a killer headache, and that I wasn't taking any more. I had a nasty, musty/dirty taste in my mouth, too. I went back to sleep and had a smaller, similar episode.
When I woke up on Saturday, I felt like I was moving underwater. Everything felt like it was moving at about a fourth of its normal speed, and my head was throbbing. I was very nauseous. It felt like I was being compressed somehow, like I was shorter than I should have been. It also felt like I was touching someone else when I rubbed my forehead. Definitely odd. I also was itching like crazy, shaking all over, and paranoid about everything. When I slept I had bizarre dreams, one of which apparently involved harvesting cheeseburgers from the living room wall ~ don't forget the ketchup dripping down! And I couldn't sleep that night, because when I laid down I became short of breath and started getting chest pains.
After two days of feeling this way, we found out what was going on: I was going through withdrawal symptoms. The drug I was prescribed in similar in composition to heroin and methadone, and even though I didn't take it nearly as often as I was told to, my body still managed to reach its threshold. So when I quit taking it, cold turkey, the withdrawal started. Normally you gradually come off the medicine (which I was also never told), but because of the allergic reaction I couldn't start back up on it or any of its cousins. I just had to deal with it.
The shortness of breath only happened when I laid down, so I dealt with that by sleeping in the chair for a few days. On Tuesday, however, the chest pains and shortness of breath continued throughout the morning when I was up and about, so after a quick visit to my surgeon's office I was sent pronto to the emergency room and I was back in the hospital for most of the day. My calcium levels are way up, which can attribute to some of the symptoms, but they didn't find anything else. They figured it was just more of the withdrawal symptoms I was having to go through.
So, for nine days I went through what one typically imagines a junkie would go through, complete with nausea, feeling like bugs crawling around in my skin, violent headaches, dizziness, lightheadedness, and paranoia and anxiety attacks. I had the shakes so bad, my husband complained of me drumming on the bed with my arms and legs (but I didn't realize I was even moving). I felt like I was going out of my mind. I was remarkably lucid for large chunks of time, and I can remember what was going on and thinking that it made no sense and that whatever was just crazy ~ and then, down the rabbit hole again and I was completely out of it. Those times when my mental acuity slipped, I don't remember anything at all. I can certainly understand why people stay hooked to their drug of choice, if it means they can avoid the living hell that is withdrawal. It took until Monday of this week (the 23rd!) to feel more like myself again. I still have some issues sleeping, even now, with vivid dreaming and breathing issues, but when I'm up and around during the day I feel much more "with it".
My calcium levels are still elevated, so I have to go back in another week to get more blood work done. And my doc had initially said I couldn't do any heavy lifting for three weeks, and he extended that an extra week to make it four total. My incisions were healing fine, but all the thrashing about due to the meds has prolonged the internal healing process and he wanted to make sure I finished healing before I start vacuuming and hauling children again. I am allowed to drive again now, though.
I am having to rethink some things. Up to now, every time I heard a story about some Hollywood type getting addicted to painkillers, I assumed they were really closet junkies anyway. I am now thinking that this may or may not be the case with a lot of people. I have never done any drugs, ever. (With the exception of alcohol, which I developed a little problem with and had to sober up from ~ almost 7 years straight now!) I followed my doctor's instructions, and even took extra precautions of taking as little as possible at larger time intervals than prescribed, and here I am in the same boat. I have not taken any more since Friday the 12th, but I also know that I can never take that particular medication ever again ~ both because of the allergic reaction and the whole addiction thing.
More updates on A soon ~ he is doing so well!
~ the Accidental Junkie
My surgery on the 10th went really well. While my surgeon was poking around in there, he noted that I have a lot of adhesions from my prior surgeries, most likely from the monumental screw-up that was my first C-section. He was afraid that he would do more harm than good to try to take out some of the scar tissue, though, because I might just make more scar tissue in the healing process than is already in there now. So that may cause problems down the road because my internal organs are sticking to each other; lovely. My surgeon is a veritable Pollyanna, spewing rainbows and unicorns, eh? We'll just take the stance that it will not be a problem, and move on from there.
My holes are healing nicely, although they did have to make them a little larger to get my very diseased and chock-full of rocks gallbladder out, and to check the liver for something.
My post-surgical pain meds, alas, were the source of some adventuring of the Alice In Wonderland variety. Codeine, morphine, and their derivative make me rather violently ill. So after this surgery, instead of prescribing me Oxycontin or any meds of that ilk, they decided to give me an opiate-based painkiller instead. I did not realize what it was, I was pretty out of it after the surgery. I was instructed to take one to two pills, every four to six hours. Since I am rather sensitive to most medications, I took one pill about every eight hours instead, always with food, starting Wednesday evening before sleeping in the living room recliner. My Friday (two days later) 11 p.m. dose was my last, by choice.
Shortly following the ingestion of that dose, I had both an allergic reaction and what can only be described as a "trip", a la LSD or acid. For four hours I thrashed around trying to escape the flashing blue, white, and black lights, static, voices. I felt like I was on fire, but when I touched my arms and legs they were ice cold. I also itched all over and broke out in a sweat. I had to have been hallucinating to see the dark translucent figure standing near the chair. And, I was convinced I had to keep moving my arms and legs to prevent a blood clot ~ which apparently were the nurses' last instructions when they sent me home from the hospital, I just don't remember that part. The weird thing was, I could see my husband sleeping on the couch but couldn't get his attention until about 4 a.m. when I came out of it enough to call for him.
I described what had been going on, and that I had a killer headache, and that I wasn't taking any more. I had a nasty, musty/dirty taste in my mouth, too. I went back to sleep and had a smaller, similar episode.
When I woke up on Saturday, I felt like I was moving underwater. Everything felt like it was moving at about a fourth of its normal speed, and my head was throbbing. I was very nauseous. It felt like I was being compressed somehow, like I was shorter than I should have been. It also felt like I was touching someone else when I rubbed my forehead. Definitely odd. I also was itching like crazy, shaking all over, and paranoid about everything. When I slept I had bizarre dreams, one of which apparently involved harvesting cheeseburgers from the living room wall ~ don't forget the ketchup dripping down! And I couldn't sleep that night, because when I laid down I became short of breath and started getting chest pains.
After two days of feeling this way, we found out what was going on: I was going through withdrawal symptoms. The drug I was prescribed in similar in composition to heroin and methadone, and even though I didn't take it nearly as often as I was told to, my body still managed to reach its threshold. So when I quit taking it, cold turkey, the withdrawal started. Normally you gradually come off the medicine (which I was also never told), but because of the allergic reaction I couldn't start back up on it or any of its cousins. I just had to deal with it.
The shortness of breath only happened when I laid down, so I dealt with that by sleeping in the chair for a few days. On Tuesday, however, the chest pains and shortness of breath continued throughout the morning when I was up and about, so after a quick visit to my surgeon's office I was sent pronto to the emergency room and I was back in the hospital for most of the day. My calcium levels are way up, which can attribute to some of the symptoms, but they didn't find anything else. They figured it was just more of the withdrawal symptoms I was having to go through.
So, for nine days I went through what one typically imagines a junkie would go through, complete with nausea, feeling like bugs crawling around in my skin, violent headaches, dizziness, lightheadedness, and paranoia and anxiety attacks. I had the shakes so bad, my husband complained of me drumming on the bed with my arms and legs (but I didn't realize I was even moving). I felt like I was going out of my mind. I was remarkably lucid for large chunks of time, and I can remember what was going on and thinking that it made no sense and that whatever was just crazy ~ and then, down the rabbit hole again and I was completely out of it. Those times when my mental acuity slipped, I don't remember anything at all. I can certainly understand why people stay hooked to their drug of choice, if it means they can avoid the living hell that is withdrawal. It took until Monday of this week (the 23rd!) to feel more like myself again. I still have some issues sleeping, even now, with vivid dreaming and breathing issues, but when I'm up and around during the day I feel much more "with it".
My calcium levels are still elevated, so I have to go back in another week to get more blood work done. And my doc had initially said I couldn't do any heavy lifting for three weeks, and he extended that an extra week to make it four total. My incisions were healing fine, but all the thrashing about due to the meds has prolonged the internal healing process and he wanted to make sure I finished healing before I start vacuuming and hauling children again. I am allowed to drive again now, though.
I am having to rethink some things. Up to now, every time I heard a story about some Hollywood type getting addicted to painkillers, I assumed they were really closet junkies anyway. I am now thinking that this may or may not be the case with a lot of people. I have never done any drugs, ever. (With the exception of alcohol, which I developed a little problem with and had to sober up from ~ almost 7 years straight now!) I followed my doctor's instructions, and even took extra precautions of taking as little as possible at larger time intervals than prescribed, and here I am in the same boat. I have not taken any more since Friday the 12th, but I also know that I can never take that particular medication ever again ~ both because of the allergic reaction and the whole addiction thing.
More updates on A soon ~ he is doing so well!
~ the Accidental Junkie
Friday, September 5, 2008
Green Lights
A is doing extremely well in school! The first couple of days he kind of wandered around and observed, but he's been doing very well all week this week. They use a "stoplight" system at school as an easy visual behavior tracking system. If you have a green light at the end of the day, you were very good indeed. Yellow means a warning for something was issued. And a red light means trouble. A sheet of paper is sent home every day, which has the date and whichever color a child earned that day; the parent must sign it and send it back. Every day. Which is a hassle, but it does ensure the parent actually sees the paper.
A has gotten a green light every day so far! Even with his initial awkwardness.
I am searching for some phonics software for A...this afternoon, he went up to the refrigerator letters and spelled "BOOK", and said the word. I looked at him for a second, and replaced the "K" with an "M", and he read that too. Then I took the "M" off and added a "T", and he said "BOOT". And then he was bored with it and opened the fridge for something. Go, A, go!
Potty training still not happening easily. Or, at all, really. It's still a work in progress, for BOTH of them. K sees A still wearing pull-ups, so she doesn't get why she doesn't need to wear them too. Very frustrating.
K gets the honor of being unintentionally hilarious. My husband bought her one of those (freaky, in my opinion) cats that have motion sensors in them, so they turn their heads, blink, and "meow!" at you whereever you move to ~ and purr when you pet them. This thing was purchased as a kind of preparation for when we bring the real cat home in a few weeks, to teach her not to poke it in the eyes, and how to hold it, etc. (We had a delay picking the real cat up, because he got ringworm from one of the breeder's cats who was at a catshow, and apparently brought it back to the breeder's home. She was duly horrified, of course, but at least it's treatable and not uncommon for kittens to develop).
So anyway, K picks up this stuffed cat by the tail and is waltzing around the house with it -- still by its' tail (we're still in training mode on how to pick up kitties) -- and then she stops, sniffs the cat's nether regions, and declares in her little chipmunk-style voice, "PU, stinky! Cat's butt stinks! He needs a diaper!". Z and I about fell out we were laughing so hard. It's a stuffed cat, there's nothing to stink; but she understands that butts tend to have an odor, I guess.
I also got a green light this week: I had my consultation with the surgeon yesterday, and he poked, prodded, listened and told me I was having surgery next week. On Wednesday. So, less than a week to get all the requisite duckies in a row. It is laproscopic, same day in and out apparently, and he said if I had an office job I could return to work in 4 days. A day out for each hole, I suppose. I don't have an office job, I have two small whirling dervishes -- ah, children, that is -- and a large hairy dog that seems to lose brain cells as he sheds, so this ought to be interesting.
At least Z has a few days off during the initial "julienne" period; technically it's a week, but it won't work out that way in reality. He will be switching back to his lovely mids schedule a couple of days before he starts working all night, just to be safe and awake on that schedule. Falling asleep at work or in the car during the commute just won't do, you know? Through the end of this month, he needs to sleep all day and is awake all night, so I need to keep the kiddies happy and quiet. But if I could be able to go to an office job after 4 days, then I can park in the recliner armed with the TV and DVD player remotes and make the TV be the babysitter for a couple of days...
A has gotten a green light every day so far! Even with his initial awkwardness.
I am searching for some phonics software for A...this afternoon, he went up to the refrigerator letters and spelled "BOOK", and said the word. I looked at him for a second, and replaced the "K" with an "M", and he read that too. Then I took the "M" off and added a "T", and he said "BOOT". And then he was bored with it and opened the fridge for something. Go, A, go!
Potty training still not happening easily. Or, at all, really. It's still a work in progress, for BOTH of them. K sees A still wearing pull-ups, so she doesn't get why she doesn't need to wear them too. Very frustrating.
K gets the honor of being unintentionally hilarious. My husband bought her one of those (freaky, in my opinion) cats that have motion sensors in them, so they turn their heads, blink, and "meow!" at you whereever you move to ~ and purr when you pet them. This thing was purchased as a kind of preparation for when we bring the real cat home in a few weeks, to teach her not to poke it in the eyes, and how to hold it, etc. (We had a delay picking the real cat up, because he got ringworm from one of the breeder's cats who was at a catshow, and apparently brought it back to the breeder's home. She was duly horrified, of course, but at least it's treatable and not uncommon for kittens to develop).
So anyway, K picks up this stuffed cat by the tail and is waltzing around the house with it -- still by its' tail (we're still in training mode on how to pick up kitties) -- and then she stops, sniffs the cat's nether regions, and declares in her little chipmunk-style voice, "PU, stinky! Cat's butt stinks! He needs a diaper!". Z and I about fell out we were laughing so hard. It's a stuffed cat, there's nothing to stink; but she understands that butts tend to have an odor, I guess.
I also got a green light this week: I had my consultation with the surgeon yesterday, and he poked, prodded, listened and told me I was having surgery next week. On Wednesday. So, less than a week to get all the requisite duckies in a row. It is laproscopic, same day in and out apparently, and he said if I had an office job I could return to work in 4 days. A day out for each hole, I suppose. I don't have an office job, I have two small whirling dervishes -- ah, children, that is -- and a large hairy dog that seems to lose brain cells as he sheds, so this ought to be interesting.
At least Z has a few days off during the initial "julienne" period; technically it's a week, but it won't work out that way in reality. He will be switching back to his lovely mids schedule a couple of days before he starts working all night, just to be safe and awake on that schedule. Falling asleep at work or in the car during the commute just won't do, you know? Through the end of this month, he needs to sleep all day and is awake all night, so I need to keep the kiddies happy and quiet. But if I could be able to go to an office job after 4 days, then I can park in the recliner armed with the TV and DVD player remotes and make the TV be the babysitter for a couple of days...
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