Happy 7th of July

I hope everyone had a good 4th! I was too busy enjoying myself to blog, so you'll have to forgive me.

And, in the spirit of patriotism, you MUST watch this. You must.

Now....was that not the funniest thing you've seen all day? C'mon, you know it was.

Saw my doctors on Thursday, with all pretty

good results. Dr. Mazj wants me back in with the pulmonologist I saw that one time before, because those little whatever-they-ares in my lungs are still there, as (in his word not mine,) "nodules" and need checking. They haven't grown at all since last visit, and are still too small to biopsy, these being good things, but they are still there and unidentified, so he wants them identified, stat. Ok.

He also sent me for labs, of course, and my hemoglobin is back into the "why aren't you dead yet?" range. Andy was sooooo happy it had gone up to almost normal, and now I slipped back down again. Dr. M also noted that I am quite undernourished.

Grr. I've got to start finding the energy to make myself good healthy food again AND make myself eat it. Daddy brought me some great zucchini when he came up for the 4th, and I've eaten one of those, so that counts as a start, right? It wasn't even deep-fried! I am going to go to Safeway today and raid the produce section, I swear, and then I swear I'll eat some of it, even if it's 3 bites a day. That would be 3 bites more than now, right?

Daddy and I were talking food, as we often do, and in discussing the wonders of Trader Joes, I had the grand realization that if I went to TJs on a regular basis, I would undoubtedly eat better, and eat more. TJs has all these wonderful, delectable things, which are organic and whole grain and Omega-3'd and antioxidanted and all sorts of wonderful things like that, and as a killer bonus, are made in little me-sized portions, are cheap, and taste great. Amazing, huh?

(And I'm finding myself wishing more and more that Daddy lived in Gridley, so he could come over and we could talk and have dinner and go do stuff to goof off. Sigh.)

So, I'm thinking I need to get back to a project I started long ago (among many) and make a list of food things that I love but always forget about. Like hummus, for example, or chicken salad, or Waldorf salad, or couscous, fresh fruit or heirloom tomatoes with bleu cheese dressing! Then I need to make an attempt to eat these things once in a while. If I can just make my life-schedule work itself out so that I actually start going to yoga class, yoga is almost right across the street from the shopping center where TJs is - a part of Chico I very rarely go to otherwise. Now, if that ain't a sign - yoga and TJs being near each other - then I don't know what is. Ok.

Moving on... Let's see, hemoglobin bad, things in lungs unidentified, protein and nutrient levels bad, lymphedema bad (but he's going to call the therapist for me and see if he can find out what's up with the torture garment thingy), and I think that's about it from Dr. Mazj.

Next, I went downstairs and saw Dr. Whalen in radiation. Of the many docs I've seen down there, I really like Dr. Whalen. He's nice, he's straight to the point, and he's the doc who took it upon himself to do a bunch of research and consult with Drs. Pisani & Mazj to determine that I did NOT need the internal radiation and that it would probably do more harm than good. That really makes him a good guy in my book! He did some very uncomfortable exams - I'll spare all y'all the details - and discovered that I had a yeast infection without even knowing it. Amazing, because normally I KNOW, but I guess this one is different and stealthy. Could explain some random symptoms and the absolute exhaustion I'm having lately, if there's been an infection of any kind festering in my body and draining resources...and man oh man have I been exhausted and sleeping most of the day for the last couple. So anyway, Diflucan is our friend. I took it yesterday, and hopefully the little yeastiebeasties will already be on the run.

I think that's about it medically... Well, for me at least. Someone else in this house is having major surgery tomorrow - my beautiful baby puppy! Yup, it's time. She's going in to get spayed, which is a good thing over all, but made even better by the fact that Dr. Brenda is going to pull all her remaining puppy teeth while she's under. This is significant! The poor baby has gums that are swollen to all hell and must hurt like nothin' doin', because if you look carefully, you can see the baby tooth and the erupting adult tooth crammed into the same socket. Ow! That's gotta be miserable. She's definitely acting miserable in the form of crabby and getting in trouble. The dog who never gets into things has been stealing random possessions, including my little stuffed elephant Spot, which could have been a tragedy!!! Normally, she'll make off with something random maybe once every week or two. Yesterday, it was maybe 8 things spread throughout the day.

I keep trying to give her teethers - rubber toys kept in the fridge, scraps of washcloth that were wet and then frozen hard, normal toys, nylabones - to keep her busy. They all end up covered in blood, which is very disconcerting, but when I check, it's just normal loose tooth bleeding. This morning, she's been crying non-stop, which of course kills me. I finally gave in and gave her a rawhide, even though I know she'll bleed like crazy, but it keeps her busy, happy and not crying, and those are things to strive for!! I just have to remember to have the vet save me her baby teeth, because I'm weird like that.

When we take her in, Mr. Sparkydog is going along for the ride, so that he can get microchipped

while we're there. They do that on a walk-in basis, which makes it really convenient. Pea got hers when she was in for xrays, and Stella was done with her first puppy shots. Now all the babies will be chipped, and their fretful Mommy will be happy.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we're trying to get the kids ready to head back east with Mommy for a month. They used to go back for the entire summer; last year they didn't go at all; this year we're trying a month.

I'm going to lovelovelovelovelove the quiet and time alone with my darling husband, but I'm also going to go nuts with them gone. I worry nonstop that they'll be unhappy and bored like they were the last summer they went.

Some of you might recall that the last time they went, the summer we moved, she almost brought them home a month early because she and her SO were fighting so much; topi

c of the fights: her never being home or spending any time with the kids, who were then stuck in the condo with him as de facto babysitter for the whole summer. So the atmosphere at that time wasn't great, and the kids were bored out of their skulls on top of that, so therefore I was miserable. I'm praying it goes better this year, for the munchkins' sake. I can't enjoy my time alone with my DH if my little girl is calling me crying.

But anyway, getting them ready to go takes a lot of work! Sorting all their clothes to see what fits, buying more clothes, figuring out what "stuff" they can take to keep themselves busy, etc. All the new airline baggage rules should make this REALLY interesting, what with the charges and weight limits and fees, oh my.

I really wish to god Trevor could take his guitar back with him, but I just can't see it. It would be an immense pain in the ass with infinite potential for damage, but I still wish. He is SO good now, and loves it so much, I hate to see him lose all that playing time. Ah well.

I think that is about all that is new and noteworthy. The only other thing I have to mention is

that I've discovered some new blogs worth checking out, if you're of a mind to do such things.

I'm hooked on the sheer glee that is Cake Wrecks - so now Jen has gotten herself nominated in

the "Funniest" category of some major blog awards. Checking out the competition, I've found some other wonderful silliness to read.

The awards site is here http://www.socialluxelounge.com/blogluxe/ if you want to check out some of the finalists. (Sadly, voting is closed) So far, I've found Twitarded, Meanest Mom and Boobs, Injuries & Dr. Pepper to be bleh so far. However, Bye Bye, Pie! is thus far hilarious, and Barefoot Foodie is

showing strong potential.

Well, and of course, if you're not peeking at Cake Wrecks (www.cakewrecks.blogspot.com) on a daily basis for some serious giggles, you are a total loser anyway. ;-) I mean, how can you NOT read a blog in which yesterday's feature was wedding cakes shaped like tree stumps? C'mon people! Well, I get a lot of serious giggling done, anyway.

(Scary stump cake picture is copyright Cake Wrecks & Jen Yates, I just wanted to show y'all!)

The scary sasquatch and well, I don't know what the hell it is cake pictures are mine, taken at my local MegaLoMart.

The agenda for today is to take the little one to get her hair done - a nice trim to even up her split ends and let those glorious curls hang evenly - and to Safeway, to raid the produce department. I've also got to start working on some pulled pork for sandwiches to use up our stash of both pork and hamburger buns before they all leave. I've got to do a freezer inventory for just that reason. Giant sized packages of anything aren't useful when it's just the two of us, and I hardly eat!

But I think that's about it for now. I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but I can always add it later. Happy Tuesday everyone!! (I'm eating a peach...be impressed!)

Happy July!I

Ah, a new month.....but today feels like a blast from the past.

I'm to be up at the cancer center before 1, go have blood drawn for labs, and then see Dr. Mazj at 1:30 and the radiation oncologist (I never know which one!) after that. Sounds awfully familiar, doesn't it?

Yep, I'm dreading it.

Not because it will really be horrible or something, but just because I have to go do it.

At least I get to go buy fireworks beforehand. That is the fun part of the day. I'm lucky enough to live in one of two cities in Butte County that still allow them, so we're taking advantage. It's Trevor's birthday on the 5th, so that's another excuse to light up the night on the 4th. At least that's what we tell ourselves. Daddy's coming up to play pyro with us this year, so that makes it even more fun!

Otherwise, there's not a hell of a lot going on besides birthday preparation. We don't have gifts to buy - we're taking him to Guitar Center with a virtual gift certificate to spend early next week - but I have to make a mud pie for his cake. Not hard, just time consuming, it seems. I've never made one, but it seems pretty simple.

In other news, I went and saw Andy this week, and my labs came back mostly encouraging. I'm still "not nourished," in his words, but my hemoglobin numbers are up to a place that approaches the bottom of the normal scale, and my A1C diabetes score is 5.5, which is friggin' great - you're supposed to aim for a score under 7. The only major negative was my vitamin B12, so it's finally [sigh] time for me to do the injections, which means I have a kit to pick up at Longs full of syringes and goodies. Wheee. Not.

Meanwhile, I'm still crankin' away on the paperwork pile. It's reaching the home stretch, so that's encouraging. I know it's the first of many, but I think this set is the longest and ugliest to get through.

I think that's about it, but I wanted to give y'all a quick update. I'll have another one of some sort after I see the two oncologists today, so I'll probably post when I get home, whenever that may be. I never know when I go see them!

Stay tuned...

On one hand...or maybe on one foot...

So, as I was working on my lovely disability forms today, a scenario was going through my head.

It's relatively common to open your happy People magazine one day and find an article about a person born with only one limb; or perhaps disfigured in an terrible car accident, who has learned to live with their disability to a point where they've adapted the remaining limb to serve them for everything they need. They can bathe and dress themselves; use the toilet, brush their hair, cook some food, and generally take care of business.

Then, it's inevitable that they've also learned to use that one foot they have to paint masterpieces or play their sonatas on the piano. I don't know--something extraordinary that gets them an article in People magazine and piles of money for their talent.

What the articles don't tell you is that the disabled person HAS to learn to carve castles out of soapstone with his toes to survive because he can't get social security disability.

These forms are bordering on insulting. Can I bathe myself? Yes. Comb my hair? Check. Use the toilet by myself? Hell yes.

Well, odds are that by being able to do all of those things for myself, I'll be SOL on disability. (that's Shit Outta Luck, in case you were wondering) They don't ask if I've learned to get my hair cut in specific ways that are easy for me to blow-dry and style. There's nowhere to mark that I have a big handle in my shower so I can hold on when I lean backwards to wash my hair under the spray. I can even prepare food for myself every day--and sometimes for the kids--but there's a big difference between Pasta Roni with baked chicken, and cutting and chopping veggies for the Asian stir-fry dish that I need to work, hands-on, for the entire cooking time, with homemade pot stickers and dry fried fresh string beans.

Nowhere in the forms are there places to make these distinctions. What if I disclosed honestly on the forms that I went on vacation to Disneyland? Are they going to ask me if I walked or if I was pushed in a wheelchair the whole time, or are they going to immediately assume I must be full of crap when I think I'm disabled?

It's a hell of a strange change in mindset to fill these boogers out. You have to toss all dignity out the window, because you are going to have a natural inclination to try to present yourself in the absolute best light--like writing a resume or something, you're trying to inflate or emphasize how "good" you are, when on these forms, the object is to honestly present how crappy you're really doing, without sounding like you're playing the Dying Swan and whining incessantly.

::sigh::

The latest lymphedema swelling is going down. My hands and fingers are still really seriously shitty, but sometimes I force them to cooperate to do things like type this. They're numb now though, so I should stop. I spent my entire day surfing the Cake Wrecks blog, which provides the maximum giggle factor for my efforts.

And off to bed for me and my numb fingers and droopy eyelids.

The experiment...

Well, let's see...the first five words seem to have gone ok. So did the next nine. Ok.

So what are we testing? I'm learning to type without actually having hands & fingers that really work and have sensation in them.

The good news is that apparently, I CAN type, albeit slowly and with an astronomical error rate, far above my norm. But the fact that I can at all is very good news. The bad news is, well, all of the above.

I don't have the foggiest idea what's going on with my body this time. Normal activities like using silverware, typing or writing, like, say, filling in a zillion Social Security forms seem to have turned my hands and fingers totally ... weird. They feel swollen, but they aren't. They feel heavier and denser than they really are, as if I can't bend them, even though I can, I just can't really feel that I can. They tingle sometimes and feel dead on the surface other times. There is deep, throbbing, dull shooting pain going up my arms to the elbow and sometimes my shoulders.

It's exceptionally hard to explain! (and I'm the one who's feeling it...) It's totally bizarre! Oh, now my hands shake when I try to hold them still. Cool!

Maybe I'll have to keep that appointment with the neurologist in August afterall, won't I? I was planning to cancel it, because if he's anything personality-wise like his office staff, then I hate him already. We shall see.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I can't knit, obviously, and I can't do anything else crafty-like. Typing is...interesting...and it'll be very interesting to see what effect all this typing has on me an hour or a day after I'm done.

So, that was the experiment, to see what my fingers and hands were capable of; and to see if I can do the mental part of the typing, making the fingers go to the right key.

But now I'm seeing part of Farrah's documentary, kind of by accident, so that's completely taken all my attention. It's near impossible for me to watch and it's totally impossible for me to look away...

Heigh ho...

Heigh ho, heigh ho, It's off to "work" I'm supposed to go....

But I don't wanna, and that doesn't rhyme. Oh well.

Yes boys and girls, the first wave of big thick envelopes bearing big thick sheaves of paper has arrived from Social Security. These lovelies are packets of forms, which must be filled out mostly by me, and a little bit by Lloyd, to start the process on my disability claim.

My sewing machine is calling me, as are a couple of knitting projects, but I can't go goof off and play with them, because these lovely forms have deadlines attached to them, so I have to get busy.

There are just not enough hours in the day, and for some reason, I am highly distractable. I get up at 5 am or so, and don't go to sleep until midnight or even a little later, and my day is generally full, full, full, even when I don't waste two or three hours of it on a nap. I can't figure this out. It's like magic to me. It took me an hour to read less than 10 pages of a book last night because I was so distracted by tv, talking, dogs, getting up to do things, you name it. Bizarre!

So, in the last few days, I've spent lots of time in bed, and you'd think I would have managed to at least get some reading or knitting time in there, but no, I kept getting distracted even when I was supposed to be resting.

Supposed to be resting because of a) a major, massive event of a migraine, b) one of those fun bouts of diarrhea that like to appear out of nowhere and tie me to my bathroom door and c) now a UTI which ensures that I listen to b and stay near the bathroom.

Luckily, in this house, as long as I don't go outside, I'm always pretty damned close to my bathroom.

Now thanks to reading Tif's blog, I want to sew and play with quilts, and I want to knit. The knitting is probably out of play, because my fingers are playing games with me again and going back and forth on whether or not they're going to work or just go to sleep and check out on me. That makes knitting either exceptionally difficult ot excruciatingly painful, take your pick. Sewing, I'm thinking, might work better, just because of the difference in type of motor-movement--while knitting is more fine finger movement, working the sewing machine would probably be much more gross movement, if that makes sense. Oh, and I want to learn to crochet, at least a little, and I want to work on training with my incredibly brilliant puppy (more on her in a minute), and I want to start a new book, and I have magazines to catch up on, and yoga to do, a book or two to write, and, and, and.......

BUT, no, I can't go play with fabric or yarn or any other goofing-off-ness, because I really have to work on these forms, and I have company coming tomorrow (?) to spend the weekend and I haven't cleaned a thing! Ack! Now that I think of it, I haven't made the children clean anything either, and that's highly problematic. Hrm... I guess I have more to get in gear than I thought I did!!

Grrrr................................it doesn't help one bit that I'm sick through all of this. Not at all.

But anyway.

I got our circus tickets for August--YAY! Everyone is very excited. Just thought I'd share that.

But anyway. ;-)

My puppy is brilliant!! In only two days of totally half-hearted occasional training efforts, Stella knows "shake." She's still a tiny bit hesitant sometimes, but mostly as soon as she hears the command, she flops that giant paw into your hand and goes for the treat. She is a smart girl! Anything for food! Now we just have to work on slightly more useful commands, like "come" and "stay" and "do not use the potatoes for teething toys." We will have to get to those. We started puppy class on Saturday, and we go back for the next 5 weeks. That's "puppy" class--after that, we can take the basic class, tricks, and something about being a canine good citizen. I like the sound of that one.

We were saying last night that despite her minor little lapses in judgement, we have really been lucky as hell with Stella. She's smart, she's trainable, and she generally stays out of trouble. Shredding a potato or two here and there is pretty minor--and as the former owner of Dillon the Dipshit, who ate shoes, cell phones, furniture, drywall, etc, I can attest to her outstanding behavior thus far. I remember how much chaos he caused by the time he was this age! She still makes me crazy sometimes, but I do appreciate what a good, good puppy she really is. We got lucky.

So, as I check out the status is: Waiting for call-backs from a doctor and a lawyer; finished with breakfast and necessary caffeination; sick with UTI & intestinal hell; house to clean; paperwork to do; dog to train; husband & boys heading off to Kaiser (which = QUIET for at least 3-4 hours!); and blog finished.

Yay.

Trains and taffy galore!

So, I spent my day in Old Town Sacramento, with Lloyd, all three kids, Dad and Chris. The seven of us wandered around the train museum at our own relative paces, bumping into each other randomly. Well, actually only Anna & I (we stayed together, big shock), Chris and Dad (wandering on their own) bumped into each other. Lloyd and the two boys were intently reading every word of every plaque and every piece of paper in the entire place. That's ok...that's why we took 'em!

When "we" had enough trains for one day, we headed out to start wandering, and Lloyd and the boys met up with us when they'd seen the whole museum. Chris took a billion pictures that I can't wait to see. Hopefully he'll share some good scans when he develops his film.

All in all, a nice time, a great Father's Day outing for all--especially because the boys got to spend time with Dad doing a Father's Day kind of thing (and Anna was cool with hanging with me), AND I got to spend time with MY Daddy and my brother in honor of Father's Day. I think meeting in Sac worked out well for everyone too, not too much driving for anyone.

And, I learned some things that were interesting and/or neat. I learned how big train engines really are, which was actually kind of disturbing. Some of the wheels are well taller than I am, but the height of the actual trains was *really* kind of scary.

I learned how precise and correct Laura Ingalls Wilder was in her writing and descriptions of things, because there was a train car which matched her description of her first railroad trip in precise, meticulous detail.

I learned that there were actually TWO golden spikes cast for the connecting of the transcontinental railroad, one of which was quietly held by a private family for all these years,

before becoming public knowledge in 2005. The "Lost Spike" is now on permanent display at the museum. You

can see for yourself if you don't believe it--http://www.railtown1897.org/doc.asp?id=469 There really were two of them, and I've seen one. It is very, very sparkly gold!!

I also learned of the existance of something called "railroad china." Apparently, different railroads had special china patterns, some of the big

railroad barons had their own patterns, unique patterns were created for special situations, etc. Some of the patterns were insanely gorgeous.

One is a California Poppy pattern that is now being reproduced. You can buy it through the museum to use in your own house; or, you can buy shards of broken original china which have been made into pieces of jewelry. Just gorgeous stuff!

I also learned that approximately every 7th store in Old Town is a candy store, where you can buy salt water taffy up the wazoo. We now own an insane amount of taffy. That's entirely my fault. I also bought the children chocolate-dipped Twinkies on a stick for their dessert.

Ah yes, lunch at Fat City--very yum! We got incredibly lucky with our lunch seating. They gave us our own little leaded-glass-walled room, with stained glass accents and lamps and an antique sideboard, and something gorgeous that Lloyd guesses is a serving table kind of thing. I can't even describe it, but if Daddy emails me some pictures he took of it, I'll share and maybe one of you can tell me what it is for sure.

So, we wandered around Old Town for a while longer after lunch, checked out a bunch of random stores and discovered how many candy stores there were. Anna and I bought strange socks at a store full of strange socks. And then we went home, because we'd all had just about enough trains, salt water taffy and walking, and because rush hour traffic was creeping closer and closer.

That's about it for our grand excursion, but hell, at least we got out of the house! Tomorrow, I'm off to see Andy, not for my usual monthly appointment, but for a paperwork meeting for disability. That should be totally miserable, save for the fact that it's Andy, and I don't think that there's any way time with him *could* be TOTALLY miserable.

See Mom? I updated..........

I gotta get back to doing this daily...

Ack! I did it again! This time I managed to go more than a week without posting. I don't know how I manage this.

Ah well... anyway.... updates....

Last I posted, I think Lloyd had just left for Virginia, and I was trying not to be a blubbery wreck.

Lloyd had a great trip, just like I hoped he would. Lori is, of course, the ultimate hostess, with a housefull of relatives for Allie's graduation, and still managed to make sure her Dad was occupied, going places, and having fun the whole time. The girls helped too, fussing over grandpa and making sure he was taken care of all the time. Andy's parents were there too, so Lloyd and Jim (Andy's Dad) spent lots of time bullshitting and bonding. Between that, seeing the girls, and all the sightseeing Lori packed into the days, he was in 7th heaven. Just having a break from taking care of me is a huge deal in itself, but she made it a kick-ass vacation for him. Thank you Lori!!! You and your girls are the absolute greatest. He really needed that.

I managed to run the entire household, kids, pets and even a sleepover while he was gone, just like I told him I would. I'm not sure I've spent as much time awake as asleep since he got home, but that's another story. The point is, I was perfectly capable of handling life, just like I said I would be. The kids and I did just fine, and even though I was pretty worn out taking care of the dogs, I really enjoyed the alone-time part of the time. But only part....the rest of the time I was bored off my skull without having Lloyd around to talk to! I always talk to the pets, but while he was gone I was having full-on deep conversations with them. But we did fine.

I was just really glad to have him home!!

And speaking of home, my big boy kitty came home yesterday. That's him, in that nice cedar box there. It's quite a nice little box, with a little padlock. Inside the box, his ashes are in a plastic bag, and I've added to that the little baggie with his fur in it (the fur they shaved off for his IV) and his collar & tags. It feels complete now that he's home. Weird but right.

Meanwhile, the other pets are doing well. Emma, strangely, seems to be coping with Oz's loss by actually coming out of her shell more and more. She comes out from behind the couch every night now, jumps up where I'm sitting, and begs for petting and attention. It's amazing. She wants so much attention she almost gets irritating! But, you can't ignore her when she actually wants human contact.

Stella is growing like that proverbial weed. We're going to puppy class today, and I bet she'll be at the head of the class. Her and Sparky are absolute BFFs now, and I think she's the best thing that ever happened to him. He actually PLAYS now, and not just the "throw my damned toy already" game he was so obsessed with. The two of them wrestle and run, and play with toys together, while Pea plays referee/mom over the proceedings. Sparky is noticably more energetic and upbeat now that he's playing with Stella so much and I think it's great for everyone involved, except perhaps my furniture.

Stella is also too damned smart for my own good. Yep, I was warned that Border Collies are smarter than I am and will outthink me at every opportunity, and all those warnings were dead right. She's too much fun though, and training her is a blast, because she actually understands what we're saying. I'm 100% sure that she speaks English fluently.

What else......well, we're taking a family outing on Monday for Father's Day, heading down to Sac to ride on a steam train and check out the railroad museum in Old Town. Daddy's going to meet us there, so we'll be a nice big group. He's coming up for the 4th to play with fire too, which will also be lots of fun.

We've got to come up with a few more group activities before mid July, because that's when the kids leave. They are going back east this year, but only for a month. We want to find a few more things to get out and go do before they leave, because once they get home, we won't have much time before school starts.

We did get our circus tickets yesterday though! Everyone had SO much fun at Ringling Bros. last year, we're making it an annual event. Both boys, but especially Conner, were verrrrry cynical going in, thinking it was going to be a really lame, little kid-ish thing with lots of dancing clowns honking horns or something. They were both, but especially Conner, BLOWN AWAY with what it was really like, with the lights, sound, rigging, theatrics, acrobatics and everything else. Now they're really excited to be going again.

On the medical front, which is technically why we're here, there's not a ton to report, but it is significant. The lymphedema is waxing and waning lately, which concerns me. It never seems to go away ALL the way, so it's always in some phase of coming or going. I have to to Dr. Mazj about that when I see him. I see him in a couple of weeks.

He sent me for a pre-visit CT scan this week, and that gives me tons of anxiety now. The last one was where they found the weird "ground glass opacity" in my lung, which no one has any clue about. It's not cancer, but no one really knows what it is. I saw the pulmonologist once, and he was a total jerk. He sent me for bloodwork, and I never heard anything back with the results of the bloodwork. That was right at the time I had my complete breakdown and refused to go see any doctors for a while though, so it's undoubtedly partly my fault. I'll go 50/50 with him on that one. Yeah, I should have tried to go back and see him, even if he is a jerk, but he also should have at least called and told me what came of the 6 tubes of blood I parted with.

My daily overall "how I'm feeling" is still really variable, but I can't say I'm doing too bad. I have good days and bad days and really bad days, just like before, but the good days are becoming more common. I still pop up with strange and random symptoms that I don't understand, almost always on a Friday night, of course. Last night, I noticed some strange vaginal discharge and associated pain, but of course it's not severe enough to worry about at the ER level, so I have to wait until Monday when there are doctors available normally.

Overall, I do pretty good, but there's always something, you know?

That seems to be about it, at least as far as I can think of. It's about time for me to go get showered and ready for puppy school. I've got to get all kinds of puppy training gear together, since I don't know if the trainer wants check collars or pinch collars or long leads or retractable leads or what. I've never taken a dog to professional training classes before, so it's a wholen new world for me, but as I've said, this dog is too good to waste. She's too smart and good tempered and everything else to let her grow up as an untrained wild thing who gets banished outside or something. Nuh -uh!!

So, off we go.

Hopefully, for less than a week this time! :-)

A chapter closed

Well, I did it. I stayed strong enough to stay in the room and hold my baby till the end. It was the hardest, painful, heartbreaking, most anxiety-provoking thing I have ever done in my life. Nothing else even rates high enough to matter.

What was amazing is how it went from "not time" to "it's time" in what seems like an instant. We were all shocked that he did so well for so long, but in an instant, he was a changed animal. Fine one day, and the next, a shadow. I was afraid I wouldn't know for sure that it was time, or would doubt my decision and second-guess myself, but there is no chance of that now. He told me, in no uncertain terms.

Most of the rest of yesterday is a complete blur that involved a lot of sleeping.

This morning, Lloyd left for Virginia to go to Allie's graduation and hang out with Lori and her family for a few days. He desperately needs the break. He's been taking care of me non-stop for a year now, and he really needs some time on his own, in another place, where he can relax and be a dad and grandpa instead of a caregiver. I admit, I'm going to be exhausted beyond all rational belief by the time he gets back, but it's worth it for him to get that break. I wish he could have a lot more breaks.

Obviously, lots has gone on since I last really updated things, and I've lagged, sorry. Trevor's 8th grade graduation went well...sorta... Thanks to some MASSIVE lightning and thunder storms the night before, the entire event had to be moved indoors at the last second. The event planner in me just shudders at the thought of what they had to go through to make this happen, but I don't think it was any fun for the graduates or the audience either. Hot gym-like building, rickety, evil bleachers, bad sightlines.... But at least Trevor got all his full honors, gave the best speech of the night, and is now officially set forth unto the world as a high schooler. Lord help us.

During all of this, I was unfortunately fighting another massive lymphedema attack. Before I got cancer, I'd never even heard of this stuff, and now--it is one of the most feared things in my life. My ankles gained an inch; my calves two inches this last time. I was carrying more than 12-14 lbs of fluid weight from the tissue congestion. HELL!

And even after it's gone, it's not. The places that were swollen are now exceptionally painful and sensitive and you dread accidentally touching them. Urgh!

So, gee, other than those things, there hasn't been a whole lot going on around here. Ha ha, right? I'm already tired, and it's time to go make dinner for the wet wolf pack (they were playing in the kiddie pool with Anna) and then make dinner for the hopefully dry child pack.

Quick note!

Yup, somehow I let a week go by again.  Oops.

I'm still out here, and of course a lot has happened, and I'm working on writing a blog post explaining all of it, but right now, I just have one piece of news: Oz.

This morning, the universe told me it was time, so tomorrow at 10:45 we have an appointment at the vet.  He's declined even more, and faster since this morning, so I KNOW know that it is the right decision at the right time, which helps met at least.  The kids have had their time to say goodbye, and I'll get mine.  How here's hoping I can stay as strong as I want go.

That's all for now. Everything else can wait.

The evil stepmother rides again!

Well, as I predicted a while back, the blog is pretty blah these days, because I don't have any dramatic new medical weirdness to report.  That in itself is wonderful; lord knows I don't need any more medical weirdness; but it doesn't make for very interesting reading.

So, where are we these days?  We're in almost the exact middle of the busiest three weeks of my entire year, and as it would happen, ALSO in the exact middle of my dental marathon.

School's out next week, which means that school time is mainly cleaning up and goofing off.  That's all fine and dandy, but when you've got an 8th grader who's graduating, you've also got about a million activities tied into it all to keep you busy.  Dances, trips, graduation practice, awards assemblies, you name it, all leading up to the actual graduation.

Take all of that, and mix in voting, vet appointments, guests, tub repair dude, science projects, doctor's appointments, visiting grandma, yoga and my dental marathon, add water and stir.  Sounds like fun, huh?

Next year, thank the gods, we have NO one graduating from anything.  They'll be finishing up 7th, 9th and 10th, so we get a break before we then have several years of people graduating again.

Trevor will, of course, be a valedictorian, just like Conner was before him.  Unlike Conner before him though, I really don't feel that Trevor should be.  That's a pretty bold, controversial statement for me to make, but this is *MY* blog, and therefore is entirely my opinions, take 'em or leave 'em.

While Trevor will be graduating with the proper GPA to earn valedictory status, I personally don't think that GPA alone should be the deciding factor.  I think that the valedictorian(s) should be someone who represents the best of the class in all ways--and that is why they are chosen to get up and speak for the entire graduating class at the ceremonies.  That person or persons should have the moral character to represent their class and have earned their GPA the right way.  I guess that's the best I can do of explaining it abstractly...

But to put it another way, I don't think that someone who hit another student in class and was suspended for a day and received 20 demerits but worked off 10 of them working after school and then later got an F at the quarter in reading for not turning in a single book report all quarter because he was too addicted to his computer games to bother doing his homework but then made up all the missed work and was given *full credit* for it really DESERVES that honor above and alongside people who have honestly worked for it.

I just don't, and if you don't agree with me, that's your prerogative, but like I said, it's my blog.

Needless to say, my very strong feelings in that area make this graduation much less of a proud moment than it should be, and the actions of others make it far less of a happy one than it should be.  Frankly, I'd rather skip the whole damned thing, since it's turned into one of those things where I'm reminded quite clearly that I am merely the stepmother, here to do a job, required to prep for and show up at the graduation, but given no part of it to enjoy.  

Specifically, the shirt that I picked out for Trevor to wear, a nice looking cream colored, non-geeky, cream-on-cream embroidered with Hawaiian motifs, cool, flowing shirt, was deemed unacceptable by his grandmother, and she replaced it with a long-sleeved ugly-ass thing that

 he's going to roast in during the 90-degree + ceremony and dance afterwards.  

But, because SHE is his grandmother, he IS to wear the shirt she bought him and the tie sent by his mother.  I am merely the stepmother, and my contributions and opinions and efforts to do something nice for him are entirely worthless.  I can't wait to see what kind of crap they pull when it's Anna's turn.

Then again, they probably won't do anything--It's worth mentioning that beloved Mommy and Grandma felt no need to do anything of the sort for Conner's graduation last year.  Trevor is almost always the only one who gets special treatments.

And it's worth mentioning again that while I VERY rarely vent about family issues, and almost never talk about the kids' disciplinary problems, this IS my blog, and if you don't like what you're reading, don't read it.  I'm kind of disgusted about this stuff right now, in case you can't tell.

And, it's about time to get ready to head out to today's dental torture session.  I'm never quite sure what they're going to be doing to me each day.  I just show up and sit down and hope for

lots of novocaine.  Yesterday was pretty intensely painful and miserable but that's ok.  I'll put up with anything to get this stuff done!!  

Thank god for yoga tomorrow.  That is my only real obligation for the day, thank god.  I'm doing another private lesson with Lisa to get me back into the space and ready to go to regular 

classes starting next week.  I think that will be a huge help mentally and physically.  The weekend is pretty well empty, and I'm thinking of spending it in bed.  We'll see.  Off to try and tackle the world...even if all I can do is try!

Stella, it is MUCH too early to be up!!

5:41 is not an hour seen by normal people.  I don't even think the early birds have left their nests yet.  Oh, but STELLA...........my darling puppy-girl is racing in circles around the dining room table with her "Wiggly Giggly" ball and trying to fit in crawl spaces that she USED to fit in.  You've grown baby dog!

Meanwhile...Mommy fell asleep over the computer in her rocking chair.  Stella decided that would be a fine time to start eating the kitty's scratcher.  Oliver will be devastated and traumatized if I don't find another one, like, immediately.

I've been wondering the last few days, based on Miss Puppy's behavior, if it was time to start worrying about teething......I'm guessing that it is!

Thank GOD puppy training classes start today.  Muhahahahahaha!!!!  Stella has yet to fully learn that Mommy ALWAYS wins in the long run.

Off to mainline some caffeine and do some picking up around here so I stay conscious.                                          

Reality B I T E S

I wasn't really thinking about cancer today.  I was thinking about puppies and yarn and dentist visits, but cancer decided to rear its ugly-ass head anyway.

When I was very first getting started at the cancer center, with the radiation and chemo, I met a very sweet lady named Eloise.  She was the first other patient to approach me and talk to me and give me advice.  She was just so sweet, always happy, outgoing, bubbly, laughing.  We swapped hats, talked a lot, and gave lots of hugs.  I didn't really know her at all, except from the cancer center, in passing, but she always gave me a hug.

Well, I sort of accidentally read the obits for maybe the first time since we've lived up here, since logically enough, we don't really know anyone who might be in there, and found out that Eloise died.

Reality check.  Reality bites.  

Part of me is sad and depressed, but part of me also knows that at least in public, Eloise never was either one of those things.  And that, my friends, is fucking amazing.

Here's to Eloise.  Hugs all around.

HOW long?

Good lord, I've managed to not post anything in a full week?!  How did I manage that??  Geez, where are we......I could have SWORN I posted some things since then, but if I did, where in hell did I post them at?  Hmm.

Ok, since Thursday...let's see if I can manage a quick recap of some highlights.  I got my hair done.  Yay for a great stylist who's making this grow-out process a little easier on me!

Last Saturday, we actually left the children for quite a long time and went down to Dixon, about an hour and a half, and saw my old stomping partners, the guys from Silvertone & their lead singer, that Chris Isaak guy.  

Great show, even if it apparently does take a village to get me in! Huge thanks to Pauline for putting it all together.  Having absolutely zero idea what the venue was going to be like, how crowded it would be, etc, I was very afraid of just buying tickets and showing up and finding out I had to stand for a really long time or something--something, anything that my bod just physically couldn't take-- so I begged for some help.  

As it turned out, what I needed was for the entire staff of the Dixon May Fair to attend a training seminar...we're going from entrance to box office to venue box office and everyone just sends us somewhere else with some variation on "we don't have a guest list," "what do you mean a 'band guest list'?" and utterly baffled looks.  Of course, all the traipsing around trying to do this is, ironically, exactly the kind of physical exertion I had been trying to avoid in the first place, and the whole "I'm on the list" protocol is very foreign to Lloyd.  

He's not used to the waiting, the 

confusion and the rent-a-thug security who peg you as some desperate groupie in the first 5 seconds and therefore treat you like crap from that point after.

Just in the nick of time though, I recognized Sheryl, CI's manager and was able to grab her and bother her to bother our friendly neighborhood tour manager.  Way too much bother! I hated having to bug everyone incessantly, but thanks to everyone's hard work, we got in, we saw a great show, and Lloyd had fun, which was the goal.

Sunday, I recovered from Saturday...

Most of the last week I got to be sick and feel crappy as hell and sleep a lot trying to get well.  I had another one of those weird incidents where I ran hugely high fevers for a couple days, while feeling dizzy, having double or triple vision, if I could focus at all, and generally feeling horrible.  And then, over time, it went away.  

No idea what is going on with that, but it's about the third time it's happened.  I called Andy, Lorrie called me back, and we had long conversations trying to figure it out.  We're working on it.

I've also had some really monsterous bouts of neuropathy to work through, and all the usual suspects in terms of my side effects and daily bs.

My quest to see a neurologist has been a tad derailed, but luckily, I don't need one quite so much right now.  I seem to have gotten past most of the weirdo neuro symptoms and MAY even be able to KNIT for extended periods!  I guess that's a great thing, because the neurologist can't fit me in until the end of August.  August!  As weirdly transient as my symptoms are, there's no way to know if I'd even need a neurologist in August.

Who knows.  I'm tired of having weird things wrong.  So far today I feel pretty crappy, just generally flu-y.  I'm pretty convinced I have a sinus infection at the end of all of this, so I'm just taking it easy, or at least trying to.  Right now I'm having a mental war between laying still and reading magazines and baking hyper-nutri-fied oatmeal cookie bars.  I don't get much food in me, so I figured that might help get my protein and iron levels up, those being the highest priority.  Andy read my labs from March and was quite unhappy with me...... VERY unhappy.  He sent me off for more labs, and I hit a personal milestone-- NINE tubes of blood.  NINE!   

The only other significant report is Oz.  He's actually doing pretty well right now, which kind of confused us, so we took him back to the vet to have his blook levels rechecked, and find out what we should be looking for in terms of making sure he wasn't suffering at all.  

Of course, his kidney enzymes were still very elevated, but nowhere near as badly as before.  His BUN level before was 202; this time it's 59.  Normal is 15-34.  Creatine before was 9.9; now is 7.8, normal is 0.8-2.3.  So, while he is still not going to make it through this in the end, he seems to have decided to stick around a lot longer than I expected.  The sq hydration that we're doing, the tuna and wet cat food, everything else, seems to be doing him some serious good, and he's up and around, using the scratching post, acting pretty damned good.  He lost more weight, so he's like a skeleton with fur, but he's doing ok, which means I'm doing ok.  As long as he's not in any pain or discomfort, like losing control of his bodily functions, then we're good.

I think I've covered everything...and I'm tired of writing, so I quit.  Man, that teaches me to not miss an entire week of updating this thing!!!!!!!  

I hope everyone is enjoying this gorgeous, gorgeous weekend.

Pond = crack

I admit it, I'm addicted.  I am a hopeless pondophile.  That's P-O-N-D, and not P-E-D, people.  I will sit and watch the African chickens (also known as Guinea fowl, for those of you who need translation) scurry about and look for jackals and giraffes.  I never knew jackals were so gorgeous.  I guess I just assumed that they were sort of gnarly looking, like all the other canids in Africa.  We saw a HUGE pack of African wild dogs prowling around the other night, and they are just about the ugliest things I've ever seen.  They look like they were put together out of spare parts, like patchwork.

Nighttime brings the hyaenas, and lately, HUGE herds of elephants.  The kids are gettng used to me shouting "Giraffe!!" or something at random moments.

Thanks Darce.

Anyway, it was pointed out to me that I haven't posted an Oz update lately, and I should.  

Ok, Oz is fine.  

He's still got terminal acute kidney failure, but he's fine.  Weird, yes?  Ever since we moved the food and water up here, started the subcutaneous hydration, and bought him THE nastiest smelling and looking wet food (Lloyd hit it on the nose when he said it looked like there were cut up worms in it) he's been acting a lot like his old self.  He uses the scratcher, eats, drinks, goes downstairs to potty, scarfs kitty treats, snuggles with me AND wants to play games at 1 am.  

We're taking Stella to the vet on Monday to get her last shots, and I'm going to have to ask the vet what to look for that his kidneys are really going on him, and it's "time."  He's acting so much like his old self, minus a few pounds, I'm not sure what will tell me.  He sleeps snuggled up with me when I nap and has even taken to staying on the bed with us for the night.  Used to be, he'd cuddle with Lloyd while we watched the news and as soon as Lloyd would turn on his side and zonk out, Oz was off on mysterious kitty business for the rest of the night.

So, the weird answer is, he's fine, and I have no idea!  We'll see what the vet has to say.

As for my health, I have a sinus headache from HELL!  My hands are still a mess, but thank god I see Andy tomorrow.  I've actually gotten used to not having sensation...it's like learning to type all over again, but at least I'm learning.  It's probably actually not a good thing that I'm used to it though!  The cancer center was supposed to be hooking me up with a neurologist, but I haven't heard from them yet.  I'd guess I'd better bug them.  

The lymphedema has largely resolved, save my my pubic area.  It doesn't seem there's going to be a resolution there, and that it may require professional treatment and lots of it.  The tissue is already in the early stages of fibrosis, which is when the tissue starts getting thick, spongy and hard and may be completely irreversible.  All I know is it's damn uncomfortable and painful.

Lots and lots of neuropathy, in my feet, which also have some deep cracks starting again, and inguinal area of course the hands, on top of everything else that is going on there. AND, what I think might be going on there is some for of evil arthritis, because I'm starting to feel it in my knees, hips and all kinds of other joints, which are getting swelly and painful.  Creeeaaaak, groan...

And did I mention puppy-induced sleep deprivation?  

Time to fix some of *that* problem now, and see what Andy can figure out tomorrow about any of the rest.

It had to be fluff.

My hands are cooperating today, so we get an entry! Yay!

It's funny how two seemingly unrelated things can combine to make a royal pain in my ass.  Case in point....

Thing 1: Since knitting seems to drive my poor hands batty, I got the great idea that I might be able to do some spinning, since the hand movements used entirely different.  A majority of the hard work of spinning is in the feet and ankles, while the hands mainly guide the puffs of fiber through the machine.  Ok.  Nice rainly day, maybe I'll try spinning.

Thing 2: My puppy is obsessed.  I think all puppies get obsessed with something, be it chewing on shoes or eating plants or something.  Mine goes for dust bunnies and Sparky-fluff--the yellow stuff from his toy that lands all over the house.  Outdoor cobweb/dust/plant fiber puffs blowing by?  Yum!  So, has anyone guessed what really sends her over the moon?

Yup, the one activity that I think I can do involves fluffy puffs of fluffy puffy camel or wool fiber fluff that my darling puppy is determined to get her paws on at all costs.

This is really, really not fair.

But in other news, I called the cancer center about this hand bullshit and they're making me an appointment with a neurologist.  Oh, goodie.  A neurologist is an "ologist" I haven't had yet.  With any luck, he will do something for all this pain.  The hand is pissed now, so away I go.  Cross your fingers for me--I can't cross mine anymore!

Since I can't type much...

Since I can't type much...I give you gratuitous cute puppy pictures!

Since I can't type much...I give you gratuitous cute puppy pictures!

Who needs hands?

I mean, really?  Who needs hands?  I can do without them, right?

Apparently my body thinks so, because I'm rapidly losing painless or numb-less use of both of mine.  The right was the first to go, as I've mentioned, and the left is following very, very closely behind now.  

To explain fully, I'm losing normal use of the hands and arms, gradually.  Sometimes I feel pretty normal, and then I move, and all the fingers of my hand go numb, or tingly.  Or there are shooting pains up as high as my shoulder.  Sometimes I can do things even though I'm numb and can't technically feel what I'm doing; sometimes I can do things even though I'm in a lot of pain and havev strange sensations like my fingernail is going to come off or something.  Strange stuff.  Sometimes I can't open my hand all the way or straighten my fingers.  The pain is really quite intense.

And sometimes, my hands HAVE to work, like when I'm sticking giant needles in my poor beautiful cat, so I have to learn how to make them do the right things, even though I can't feel them.  I do a lot of that, taking care of pets, fixing food, reading, typing or whatever I need to do in my daily life.  I can't just quit, can I?

So, if there are fewer blog entries for a while I try and figure out what in the world is wrong with my hands, along with the other joints that are hurting like hell, creaking, popping and making my life an absolute living hell.  I plan to have a great talk with Andy when I see him in a week or so, but I have to wait until it's time for my normal monthly visit to see him.  I could see him before that, but it's $100 an office visit, so I don't want to go twice if I don't have to.

Well, after typing this, the middle finger of my right hand, which is the absolute worst of the bunch is shooting pain all the way up to my elbow, is numb, does not open OR close all the way, and is making me want to yell obscenities that would wake up the puppy, so I'm going to STOP typing now.

Wish me luck.

Peace...no quiet, but plenty of peace

It's a gorgeous Sunday afternoon here... the sun is out and shining and gorgeous; the children have finished all their chores so the house is nice and clean (unless you count puppy toy-carnage, which I don't); everyone of all species is happily occupied, and I can sit here and relax.  Ahhh...

For today's gratuitous cute puppy picture, I give you a boy and his dog laying on the floor.  Stella was amazingly cuddly today for most of the time.

And as I come back to this blog entry, at 9:30 at night, I can tell you that Stella's cute and cuddly kissy act during the day led to spastic hyperactivity and mouthing and biting like crazy this evening.  We're all pretty sure she's grown massively in the last 3 days in height, length and weight.  I can't wait to get in to puppy training classes!!!

Oz is hanging in.  I just hydrated him and put him with the big boy for a while to snuggle.  He and Conner are very attached to each other, so this is going to be very hard on the poor kid.  He just lost "his" cat, one of the previously outdoor neighborhood cats who fell in love with him, a couple years ago now.  But Oz is getting up and eating and drinking, using the scratcher, using the litterbox and snuggling and purring.  However, he has lost 2 lbs since his vet visit.  It's going to be tough to tell when it's time.

Otherwise it was a fairly uneventful Sunday, which is FINE with me.  Right now, everyone is settled in bed or on the couch, the toys are cleaned up....

THAT is no small task sometimes....having a puppy is a lot like having a toddler around!

Not much of an update for today, but not much to update!  That in itself is a pretty good thing.

Time to migrate upstairs and settle in to bed, read some more and then crash.  Sleep!  Yay!

Alpha:Omega? what

It is really rather difficult to be managing both the beginning and end.  

I've got a baby to raise, and my oldest to say goodbye to.  That's enough to make anyone completely insane, right?

I certainly hope that's enough justification.  I can't remember what I'm doing or have done from one minute to the next, while trying to raise baby, take care of Oz, fill out disability paperwork, handle normal household responsibilities, help take care of kids, try and take care of my myriad aches, pains and really BAD pains, remember to take my pills, remember to give Pea her pills, wonder what in god's name is wrong with my right hand, and above all, take full, 100% complete and total UNARGUABLE SOLE RESPONSIBILITY for knowing when Oz's time is up.  

I bottle fed him at 3 weeks of age and wasn't sure he'd survive.  I will be the only one to decide when it's time, so I have to watch carefully.  Not one minute of suffering if I can prevent it.

Meanwhile, I need to call the vet NOW, when I'm at home, calm and functional, to find out what my options are for Oz's final arrangements, and make a decision now.  I think I'll go do that.

Ok.  That was a lot harder than I thought it would be, but it is done.  Pea and Stella were good to lay down with after the phone call.  We'll now have two cats' ashes in little wooden boxes in this house.  Throwing up is a distinct possibility, but I really hope I don't.

It's just a very strange place to be, dealing with cancer and sickness and a sick cat and a new puppy.  There is a lot of sadness and a lot of joy all in one room.

I think I deserve to go read a book now.  No more being productive and cleaning and such for now.  Just resting.

Scratch that.

Well, our diagnosis is not stupidity.  Unfortunately, my "mommy" instincts were right that there was something far worse than fear of puppy going on with Oz.

The vet called this morning with his test results, and his liver enzymes were fine.  His kidney enzymes were not.  They are something like triple or quadruple what they should be, and he is in acute kidney failure.  

Some of you might remember his major cystitis incident in 2003, the night before I had to leave for Darcy's wedding, where he almost died on me, and had to spend 4 days at the vet's office in kitty ICU.  That severely compromised his kidneys, and is why he's had to eat special "urinary tract" formula cat food, and watched to make sure he is always drinking.  His kidneys were the first thing I was afraid of this time when he wasn't drinking.

With kidney failure, some cats can be brought back away from it with sufficient fluids, IVs andnutrition.  The vet told us that she had only occasionally seen that work, and only with cats who had MUCH lower levels than Oz does.

At his stage, all that can be done is to keep him well hydrated with subcutaneous fluids daily, try and make sure he eats, and watch until the Mommy instinct says that he is suffering.  There will be positively no suffering at all.

It is not a good day in my world.  Major lymphedema pain, major neuropathy pain, a right hand that really isn't working because it's numb and painful, a near-migraine, nausea, pain where my incision was, allergic-ish whle body itchiness, exhaustion from being kept up all night with puppy, mounds of paperwork to work on for disability, and a cat with acute kidney failure that I have to stick a needle into.  Not only do I have to process this myself, the cat I raised from 3 weeks old, but I have to tell the kids, and there will be much crying involved.

Nope, not a good day in my world at all.  I'll go back to the paperwork.

Diagnosis: Stupidity

Well, everyone will be happy to hear that Oz's probable diagnosis is stupidity.  Not eating and not drinking is just dumb.  He's just been upset about the puppy coming home, and since she spends most of her time in the kitchen/dining room, where the food and water is, he just started hiding upstairs.  Stupidity!

However, when cats lose a large amount of weight in a short period of time, they can develop something called  fatty liver syndrome.  

The main symptom of fatty liver syndrome is jaundice, and the vet didn't find any signs of yellowing in his mouth, eyes or ears.  Just in case, she took blood to do a panel of tests to make sure, and she'll call me in the morning with the results.

Luckily, the cure for fatty liver syndrome is pretty easy--it's calories.  Eat, eat and eat!  Hopefully, of course, he doesn't have it, but if he does, at least the cure isn't too horrible.  We're trying to get him to eat some nice high-calorie wet food and tuna and such in the meantime regardless to get his weight back up.  Anna just opened the vanilla ice cream, and I think I'm even going to try and tempt him with some of that.

Anyway, that's the update.  Hopefully the dumb cat will rebound soon!

Attack!

Oh, there are so many enemies to vanquish in the dining room...The empty food bin...the puppy on the other side of the fireplace glass...the shredder...Pea...and especially that archenemy, the boinging doorstop.  

Now THAT thing must be stopped at all costs.  Mommy took away the plastic cap, but it's still evil and must be made to boing, and then barked at for a very, very long time.

Oh no!  The empty food bin just tried to steal a toy!  It had to be retrieved with great care, many test lunges/jumps back, and finally, one great leap to seize the toy and run like hell.

Yes folks, welcome to the spastic portion of our day.  In the morning, when Stella wakes up with the sun, Mommy brings her downstairs and plops her in her playpen and makes her breakfast.  Stella eats her breakfast while the coffee brews, and then Mommy drinks her coffee while Stella has a little post-meal nap in her pen.  When the coffee's done, that means it's time for the post-breakfast potty, and then!  

Then!  

Then it's the best part of the day!  The gates go up, the toys come out, and it's berserk time!  This part of the day involves attacking many toys, getting stuck underneath the kitchen table trying to get to the toy that rolled on the other side, and most importantly, galloping laps around the table and the island in the kitchen with occasional stops to bark at the doorstop or something.

Welcome to my world!

But, at least that's a good part of my world.  Lymphedema and neuropathy and brittle bones and sick cats are the bad parts of my world.

I am very worried that this stupid old cat isn't going to bounce back from his self-inflicted idiocy, so we're seeing the vet today.

I kicked a magazine holder-cube-thing, accidentally, of course, and I think I slightly broke something in my toe.

My lymphedema has decided to flare again, rather badly, especially in the pubic and genital areas.  I am amazed at how much lymphedema can hurt, even after it's gone!  It hurts like all hell when it's flaring...lordy...and then after the swelling goes down, the places where it was are really tender, like if you cross your legs, the top of your shin hurts like hell.

Then you add in the neuropathy, which is causing me major pain and problems, especially in my right hand, and you have a complete list of things to make my life frustrating.  I want to knit, and I have shawls to make (!!) and my damned hand keeps going numb and painful.  It's pissing me off!!!

Ok, there's my venting for the day.  My hand is driving me crazy, but my puppy is sitting on the floor chewing a toy being blissfuly C A L M, so I really shouldn't bitch about anything.  If she follows her normal pattern, she'll zonk out for a nap soon.  I had planned on joining her on the cushion on the floor (which she seems to like) but now that I have a vet appointment for Oz, I'm afraid I'd oversleep!  

That's about all from this part of the world.  Stay tuned for an Oz update after he sees the doctor.

Oooh, wildebeest!

Ok, first and foremost:  Yesterday, Dawn got a clean bill of health on her 2 year checkup, meaning she is officially in remission from her cancer.  REMISSION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That is the best news I have heard in I don't know how long, and I'm actually a bit overwhelmed.  I can't find the words I want to be able to find to express how I really feel about that, but I am pretty sure most of you out there have a good idea how I feel.  Wow.

Dawn, way to go.  I wish I were there to celebrate with you, but have a glass of wine for me, and a toast.  I don't know what I would have done without you the last 6 months or so.  I'm sending virtual hugs and all my love and thanks and happiness for you!!!!!!!!!!!

And now, back to our regularly scheduled silly blog entry:

I swear, watching this webcam of the pond in Botswana has totally warped me.  I was well on the way to start with, but.....  I'm obsessed with missing something and completely riveted when I see something other than guinea fowl and egrets.  Last night, the most gigantic herd of wildebeest appeared out of nowhere, and then proceeded to line themselves up in perfect order along the shore of the pond to drink.  Fascinating!  It's now almost dusk at the pond, and things are pretty damned quiet.  Bummer.  Somebody needs to show up and entertain me.

Stella is doing her best to entertain me, but I'm ignoring her.  Opera has never been my thing.  She's been a little BUTT so far this morning!!  Aside from the 6:30 wake-up (ok, I can excuse that--the sun is up, our little circadian clock says it's time to wake up), she's been spastic and biting like crazy and jumping in her pen, a habit that MUST be broken.  Not one is it essential that she get gate-trained, one of those jumps put her snout deep into my left eye socket at a pretty high velocity.  Should be a pretty good black eye out of the deal, but at least there was no vitreous fluid leaking anywhere.  I think she's reached the terrible-2-weeks. 

The good news is that she does respond to training really, really well.

OMG, there's a crocodile that I swear is about to strike at a heron!!!!!!!!!!!!  Wow!  C'mon Mr. Croc...this pond has a zillion herons.  I wanna see this.  Wait....is it a croc?  Or is it a Nile monitor lizard at a funky angle?  Now this is drama, boys and girls!

Anyway, she responds to all the training methods that we're trying with her, unlike a certain golden retarded.  The only problem is that we can't spend 24 hours a day working on training methods.  But, as I've been telling her, the honeymoon is over, and real training is about to begin.  She's 9 weeks old today, and she's proved that she is very capable of understanding our commands and the clicker system.  Just don't anybody tell her that the "treats" we dole out ever couple of seconds are actually single pieces of her kibble puppy food.  She thinks she's getting spoiled rotten.

Either this is a really lazy crocodile, or the camera angle is misleading and he's really about 12 feet away from the heron--too far to strike.

The boys are all headed off to an air show at Beale AFB today, which means Anna and I are on our own.  I'm thinking of being daring and leaving Little Monster alone just long enough for Anna and I to go have lunch or something, just to see how she does to being left alone.  I haven't decided for sure yet, but I'm thinking.

A big part of that is, of course, how I feel.  And how I feel so far is exhausted.  I really didn't want to get up at 6:30.  I may end up down on the floor with Stella napping again this morning.  That's what I ended up doing yesterday for an hour; then, I took about a 3 hour nap late in the afternoon, and still dropped right into bed at bedtime.  

Now, I need to leave the computer for about 60 seconds.  Who wants to bet me that the croc makes his move during those 60 seconds?  The stupid heron is even asleep now!  Dumb bird...or else he knows something we don't.  Hrm.  Well, here goes nothing.

He didn't strike, but he's closer, and his head is waaaay up, like he's thinking about it.  And the heron went back to sleep.

Oz is doing better, but not better enough, yet.  He's eating at least a little canned cat food and tuna a day when I take it up and put it right in front of him, and eating dry food when he feels like it.  We have 4 bowls of dry food out there, but I can't leave the tuna or the wet alone for long or the other pussycats demolish it.  That's ok after he's had his fill--don't want them to feel left out.  I think a lot of the improvement I see in his shape, his coat, eyes, everything, is due to being at least almost properly hydrated now.  He drinks lots of water, and I think thata has made all the difference.  He has a urinary problem anyway, so going without water for any period of time is not cool for him at all.  There are two good sized bowls of water upstairs now, one of which is not reachable by doggies at all, and the water level is dropping significantly each day.  I've seen him jump on and off the cabinet where the dishes are, so I know his strength is good for getting up there where the stuff is.  Still, I'm not 100% ok with where he is, and if I'm still at this same place Monday morning, we're heading off to the vet asap.  He's not a young cat, but he's not an old one either--10 1/2 isn't old for a healthy cat, at all.

As for me, I am in pain.  That pretty well describes my existance right now.  

They moved the camera!  No more heron and crocodile, just guineafowl.  :-<

Anyway, pain.  Nothing of earth-shattering importance, just annoying pain.  Joint pain, muscle pain, fascia pain, incision area pain, pubic pain, neuropathy pain, lymphedema pain.  Everywhere that was swollen or still somewhat is hurts, which is weird--like, the tops of my feet hurt if you touch them, which is way strange.  So, nothing of great concern on my part, just fatigue and pain.  I'll live.

I just wish I knew if the heron did!!

Validation's a bitch.

Yeah, sometimes validation of our life decisions comes in unexpected and shitty ways.

Just yesterday morning, I decided to quit my job of being a professional patient and stay at home with my kids, both 2- and 4-legged varieties.  By the time I went to sleep last night, four of the 4-legged kind were having a medical problem of some sort and some degree of severity.

Pea is of course still having her assumedly arthritic problems, and is on her medication, but has been limping really severely lately.  We don't know why, and we don't know what exactly we can do to help her feel any better than the meds might.

Sparky is limping severely, and we discovered that is due to a nasty scrape in the middle of his front left paw pad.  Aside from standard first aid treatment, there's not much we can do for that, save going to the vet to have her outfit him with some sort of doggie shoe, which I'm really not sure she has on hand.

Stella seemed to have all the side effect reactions available from her dewormer.  They usually feel crappy and run a bit of a temp when they get that, and she did.  She's been sleeping a lot more than usual (not that I mind THAT), and was a bit "off" yesterday.  If that's all the reaction she gets though, I'm fine and dandy with it.  Oz was so allergic to a dewormer once, his whole head swelled up!  She seems to be totally fine overall.

But Oz...he has been the biggest casualty of my inattention, and I just figured it out last night.  He is apparently much more upset about Stella's arrival than anyone else is, and than anyone would have guessed.  I've seen him downstairs, but I was never really paying attention to what he was doing, but it was apparently NOT eating or drinking.  I figured out last night that he's been starving himself and he's lost enough weight to scare me.  How did  I miss this?  I touch and pet this cat every day.  I cuddle with him for naps, I snuggle up with him at bedtime, and I have been, in the last few days even, and I never noticed anything out of the ordinary.

We're pretty sure that Stella is the main problem; although he comes into our bed while she's in the crate, and I have seen him in the room with her.  Leaving in a hurry, but in the room.  It couldn't have helped any that when Stella arrived, Conner was gone.  This new horrible thing came, and his boy was missing.  Double whammy.  My poor beautiful pussycat.

So, we've figured out that he does WANT to eat and drink, which is 90% of the battle.  We've now got food and drink in two places upstairs; on the chest in the hallway niche, and in our bedroom.  That way, whether our bedroom door is closed or not, he's always got access to food and water.  If he keeps up eating and drinking, he should rebound pretty well, but I've got to check with the vet about subcutaneous fluids anyway.  I'm incredibly worried and upset, but if he is eating and drinking, I will worry less.  I will still give him bowls of whipped cream and cream cheese and whole cans of tuna if he wants, but I will worry less.

I think that the universe is telling me that my decision yesterday was the right one!  I figured out that the best phrase for what I'm feeling right now is that I need to inhabit my own life.  Lately, I've just been skimming over my own life in order to do all kinds of other things.  It's all be about me, sure, but at the same time, I haven't done a damned thing for myself in the sense of taking time to do some yoga to unwind and help heal, much less get to a class, or go get my massage I have the gc for, or read a book, or finish season 2 of Dexter, or paint my toenails.  

Oh yeah, and I have a puppy to train.  I informed her this morning that the honeymoon was over, and we were going to be starting the real deal now.  Actual training.  I have no idea what in hell I'm doing, but we'll give it a shot anyway.

I am exceptionally glad I am not driving up to a doctor's appointment right this minute, like I was supposed to be.  I'm glad I am at home watching my puppy chew on a rope, and my gorgeous Peadog bask in front of the fire, and the fact that I'm going to go finish cleaning the kitchen after this.  I *am* limiting how much time I spend on my feet, because it affects my swelling a lot, but cleaning the kitchen actually feels good right now.

But before I do that, I think I'm going to go take my cat a can of tuna.