Wednesday, June 30, 2004

I had trouble breathing last night. My sinuses kept running and I remember waking up at one point and realized I'd been breathing through my mouth, not my nose and by doing so, I bypassed the positive aspects of the CPAP machine.

Well, this morning, I felt kind of familiarly tired, so I called and talked to the respiratory therapist who said that I probably needed to get that full face mask for such congestion problems. The insurance might not cover it, but I'm okay with coughing up the money for it myself.

The sagebrush is blooming, which means my allergies are in high gear, which means that no amount of sudafed, flonase, etc., is going to keep my nose unplugged -- this means I need a back up to nose breathing on my machine.

The cool thing is that I got a dry nose and I came home from taking the children to the library and took a nap for an hour. I hooked up to my machine and wow, do I feel better! It's so wonderful to take a nap and feel refreshed again!

__

I've got to get the laundry down off the line and take the kids to LaDawn's for Vacation Bible School. It's really funny to hear from Russell what happened at VBS.

Me: So what'd you learn last night?

R: About some king -- with a funny name I can't remember and three Jewish guys.

Me: Herod? Solomon? Nebuchanezzar?

R: Yeah, that's it. Nebuc..

Me: Well, what happened?

R: The king, at first worshipped a bunch of gods. Then he decided he must be one. And the three Jewish guys bowed down every time they heard this song. The king was mad about that, but he liked the Jewish guys, so he told them he'd give them a few chances to cut it out.

Me: I don't remember this story.

R: Anyway, the Jewish guys didn't stop and the king got mad and decided to burn them alive. But what happened is that the guys who worked for the king got burned and the Jewish guys were out of the handcuffs and were just standing around afterwards without their handcuffs on because God saved them.

Me: What happened to the king?

R: I don't remember.

Me: I guess I'll have to read the book.



Tuesday, June 29, 2004

Dear Human Race,

After 10 hours of sleep last night with only 2 pee breaks because the mask wasn't fitting quite right, I'd like to request the option to rejoin you. I will not be participating in the Rat Race, however, it is likely that I will be joining the ranks of the Workaholics, at least for a few months.

Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,
RN Ruby
__

I. Cleaned. The. Bathroom. Counter. The inspiration to mop and wipe it down also came over me and I wondered where that cleaning frenzied bitch has been. My husband, pig that he is, groused that I should clean when his hair needed beautification before he left for work.

Men!

Does he not understand? I am feeling pretty good. I want to *do* stuff.

Last night, he confided in me,"I'm afraid you'll feel so much better and do too much stuff and make yourself sick."

I looked at him and said,"Me? Work too much?!! Never!!!!"

He smirked, recognizing that his fears were well-founded and that there's not a damned thing he can do about that except perhaps, let me sleep.

Hah!

I'm still a little groggy, but my brain is clearer. I may actually do stuff today -- like lots of laundry, swim with the kids, and pick up my hog pen of a room.

Wow! Hell, I even tried to initiate sex, but got turned down by my sex maniac husband for a work meeting.

Will wonders never cease?

Monday, June 28, 2004

Today, I feel kind of odd -- I've been explaining it like this. I feel like I stayed up all night -- got a couple hours of sleep. Did what I had to, then came home and took a nap in the afternoon and if I get one good night's sleep, that I'll be recovered.

Only, I'm hearing I might NOT get the CPAP today and that about kills me. They have to finish up the report and get it over to the company before insurance will approve it. Bastard insurance companies.

I'm putting the children into Vacation Bible School through LaDawn's church. I think VBS is one of the neater things about summer and I remember my own experiences with a certain fondness. The activities can be a little hokey, but I'm so excited at the prospect. LaDawn's church is doing it with a "rap" bent. Try not to roll your eyes as fast as I did....try hard. Frankly, the theme was worth it just to see LaDawn wearing natty hair, heavy neck bling-bling, and a pink nose ring hoop, complete with an Oakland Raiders' baseball cap. You just can't beat entertainment like that with a stick, baby.

I have to shower up, drag the kids through walmart for such delicacies as toilet paper and a swivel swiffer. I'm tired, but it's different. It's like "I earned it tired" not like "swirling uncontrollably into the sun" tired.

Sunday, June 27, 2004

Okay, so last week, I got a sleep study. I have apnea episodes at a rate of 2 per minute in REM sleep. Freakin' scary as hell. Tonight, I am getting figured out for a CPAP machine, which is essentially a machine that pushes air in into your lungs to keep one's airway open when you're sleeping. What they will be figuring out is how much pressure I need to have to keep my airway open while I sleep.

When folks are awake, the muscles that hold the airway open keep it open, but because you relax when you sleep, the muscles can relax and in apnea, the airway closes. Apnea results in lots of mini-awakenings in the course of the night as the sufferer gasps for air and that means that people who have it never get a good night's rest.

Because people with untreated sleep apnea are 15 times more like to have a car wreck than the rest of the world and because 90% of the time, my children are in my car with me, I've been driving as little as possible. My husband, who we have always thought was a worse driver than me, is driving whenever possible until I get hooked up at home on a machine, which should happen shortly.

I told friends that I am looking forward to rejoining the human race. I am also mourning the lost time I've experienced so far. It's hard to be this exhausted and non-functional. However, it explains lots of aches and pains, experiences, and even my difficulties recovering from sore muscles over the years. It also explains my difficulties reading texts in the past several years.

I was beginning to think I was getting Alzheimer's or something and it scared me half to death. This issue at least is treatable.

I'm just hopeful for all the things it will change in my life.





Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Well, I got a call from the doctor's office today. when I sleep, I get 88% oxygen saturation only about 50% of the time and it's supposed to be 97% saturation 99% of the time.

It explains why I'm so damned tired and why I really like the oxygen at the dentist's office so much.

They said that they would give me oxygen. I asked why not a sleep study? Oxygen might help, but it's not going to solve the problem if I have sleep apnea. I'm still waiting to hear on everything, but it's distressing. I'm afraid to sleep now.

I read on a message board that people have strokes and heart attacks from sleep apnea. I don't want to die, so I'm scared til I get some help.

Monday, June 21, 2004

Well, hope does wax eternal, huh?

I got in big squashes, bell peppers, and cucumbers today and then, Mike helped me to fence them in to try to keep the Watership Down bunny contingent the HELL out of my garden. If I come out to nubs tomorrow morning, I am ordering wolf pee and FUCK scaring the cat and chickens. Coyotes are competitors with wolves, though if there's a wolf around, the coyotes will leave. There are so many freakin' bunnies this year and they've eaten all of my pepper plants -- some down to nubs, including the habaneros, which apparently, they really really like, the bastards. Predator pee will keep away the stuff you don't want. At least, that's the theory. I'm willing to try that before I start killing bunnies.

We can put a plywood door on the shed that houses kitty and that annoyed coyotes can howl at her from OUTSIDE her shed. The chickens are cemented around their henhouse, so nothing can get in or out, so I'm feeling pretty comfortable about their safety in the wake of a coyote visit. The only critter I'd worry about is Kitty and I think if we put doors on her side of the shed, it'd be okay. Tonight, though, wow, the coyotes came down the hill about 10PM and whooped it up and left.

There's just bunnies everywhere and while I'd planned to put stuff on the hill, I know for a fact that there's warring squirrels up there, and I don't have the patience to squirrel proof the garden. Well, that and the soaker hose is all down here and I've been too damned tired to deal with it.

One of these years, I'm putting in a garden complete with sugar peas and pole beans. Hopefully, NEXT year, I'll have my thyroid meds ok and no other unpredicted disaster will happen and I'll have a garden full of yummies.

For now, I'm going to cut down about half the tree that shades the garden because it shades the garden and it's uglier than hell.

Overall, I'm feeling less wiped out, but then today, I had a couple times where my sugars absolutely bottomed out on me, and then, of course, I felt like crap. Right now, however, I smell like bagged steer manure and I'm awfully itchy like the bugs are still on me from the garden.

If I find bunny damage in the morning, the war is on and I will be pulling out the big guns to kill, scare, and maim local area bunnies. There's no sweet freakin' Thumper at my house, only rabid Plant Killers. I have to put the pansies in the foot tall pots on the porch so the little shits don't eat 'em. Petunias go in hanging baskets for the same reason.

Did I mention that I am fast becoming a hater of cute bunnies?

Sunday, June 20, 2004

I have been feeling better because I'm doing way too much and I feel scramblingly far behind, somehow, though behind what, I can only presume sagebrush, prolific as it is.

We got the chickens transferred to the new coop. Mike had all these ideas that he was going to scare the crap out of them, but I went out to help him and they were all snoozing on their roosts, so I simply picked them up and brought them to their new coops or handed them off to Mike. The little ones we can pick up two at a time because our hands are so big, so I'm standing out there handing chickens off to Mike in the dark. It was kind of weird.

The last chicken standing was on the roost and squawked her chicken head off when I grabbed her. I don't think she fully comprehended that she was the last chicken all alone in the coop without any food or water or even chums to warm her up. We slathered the one we call Turntail in the "no peck 'em" goop and they were actually not beating the snot out of each other in the coop, so it I'm hopeful she'll grow her feathers back. Otherwise, I am going to scope her out and toss her in the old coop with the new babies and wait til her feathers grow back.

After waiting two freakin' months to get my rooster, I think I may accidentally have another rooster and it specifically was a rooster type I didn't want. Sex links are superb layers, but Americaunas are not. The Americaunas lay pastel colored eggs -- they can be brown, pink, blue, lavendar, or mint green -- everyone calls them the easter egg layers. But Americaunas are really pretty birds. They have tufts around their faces and they are generally some variation of white and black speckled -- and these were all handraised, so they will snooze in my hands. I just thought it would be fun to have "easter egg" layers, so I bought a few in addition to the lot of sex links. I have a mix of gold and black sex links and some of them are so pretty. There's one that starts golden brown on its head and then its feathers morph to black, for example. Very pretty.

Mike got the front tilled under -- thank the lord. I can now give up my title of white trash with comfort. I tell ya.

The stupid dryer is out again, so I'm back to hanging laundry. At least, I'm feeling better than stepped on shit, so I have the energy to actually *do* the laundry.

We're waiting on pins and needles for the danged stocks to come through. If they don't come through tomorrow, my budget will become....interesting.

Friday, June 18, 2004

You know you're desperate when...your husband is under the bed ferreting about for those damned condoms. By now, he could have driven to the 7-11 and bought some, and stalked out of the store with a smug "I'm getting some tonight" look. Instead he is looking for condoms under our bed with a flashlight and raising the dust in the air content of the room substantially.

I will be so glad when that first sperm count test comes back and says he's got swimmerless spooge. If I wasn't ovulating, I'd be all over that "screw the condoms" thing he's been trying, but I am, so I'm crossing my legs and trying not to be too much of an infernal tease.

Okay, not trying that hard.

Gosh, I'm really looking forward to wild monkey loving without worrying about babies, ovulation, or nuffin. I just want my wild monkey and I want to feel the love.

Thursday, June 17, 2004

Okay, I've discovered that evenings are better for me than days. So days I feel like a truck ran over me and evenings, I feel better.

I did the nighttime oxygen level last night. I'll know how that went in a day or so. I just hope that whatever is going on has me feeling better soon.

Because I had the stupid little thingy on my finger all night, I didn't sleep a whit. I'm going back to bed now.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

God bless my doctor.

He said I could increase my meds a scootch, so I took one this afternoon, and damn, if I don't feel like a million bucks now. He is also going to do kind of a pre-cursor to a sleep study to make sure I'm okay there. However, he said that if my thyroid system reacted the way it did to the meds, that my thyroid may be on the way to quitting, which means I will need more and more meds until I need thyroid replacement meds. I asked if it was related to my diabetes and he said no, but that sometimes when one glandular system shuts down, others do, too, and in the case of my heredity and gender that hypothyroidism is pretty common with or without diabetes.

I'm actually looking forward to tomorrow -- I feel like I can actually plan something. But for God's sake, don't tell my thyroid.

It's weird too, because tonight I ate Chinese -- which is usually the sugar death of all diabetics and I'm starting to get hungry, which means my sugars might be low enough to warrant a cup of yogurt. I'm so excited. A higher metabolism means calorie BURN, baby. Can you smell the potential for a smaller set of butt cheeks? (Well, if you can you might be putting your face too close to my ass!)

I might even feel NORMAL tomorrow.

What a fucking concept!

Monday, June 14, 2004

I hit a wall today about 430 again -- I'd been doing stuff with the kids all day, brought them home and promptly fell deeply asleep in my chair. I heard the kids bickering and asked if Russell would play Candyland with Genny to keep her busy until Daddy came home and then fell right back to sleep again. I felt pitiful.

I also found out that to do Russ' adoption, I have to actually hire an attorney, but that it will cost about $1000, which is a lot less than I anticipated, if I had to hire a lawyer. Normally, I think we would just do it ourselves, but because we have to file for abandonment charges against the biological father, I want to have the attorney. The good news is that because this is a step adoption, we don't have to endure the social services interview or anything else.

Tomorrow, I am calling the doctor, because I'm getting worse instead of better and it is NOT related to my sugars. Also, I'm finding myself short-sugared at times, because of the thyroid meds. Today, I was so damned busy, I spaced it.

I want to exercise, but I barely have energy to do so. I feel crippled -- absolutely crippled by exhaustion.

Going to crawl into bed because I need to get some more sleep -- believe it or not.

And tonight, I made the most yummy peanutbutter chocolate chip oatmeal cookies. I used about a cup less sugar than they called for and they were really good and didn't seem to be missing the sugar and they'll be a good snack to take in tow with the kids.

Swim lessons again tomorrow. I must say that the joys of being a "pool" mom are highly overrated.





Saturday, June 12, 2004

My day was pretty laid back. We were trying to see if the old Cannondale bike wagon was salvagable, but we're going to end up buying a new one. We went to a bike shop and dorked around there and I think I'm going to buy a bike, too. I have a wonderful road bike, but it's not really a good fit for me with my short arms, big belly and for under $300, I could get a nice bike that is a good fit. If we buy the wagon, I can stick Shortbread in the back and bike. I looked at one of those piggyback bikes for her, but I have to keep remembering -- she looks 6, but she's only 4, so I think I'll wait until she's older for that. Because I'm buying a Burleigh, the resale is very high, so I'll just take care of it for a couple years, and then sell it and buy the piggyback bike for Ms. Thing.

Beyond that, I'm seriously contemplating putting Ms. Thing at LaDawn's this summer for a couple hours in the morning and maybe all Wednesday and Thursday afternoons, so I can do fundraising for Gorden's charity. I can't get anything done with Ms. Thing -- she's a whirling dervish of destruction and she's lonely for other kids, so I was thinking that I might put her in childcare a few hours daily and go workout and also work. If I put her at LaDawn's that will be cheaper than the place she's been and I can send her back to her old place in the fall. I need to talk to LaDawn to see what times will work for her, but I'm determined to be working out and getting in shape, and I'd like to work.

And I got to thinking today. Okay, it was obsessing wildy about my big fat ass.

I am sick to DEATH of listening to how skinny Donna and Melody are after their gastric bypass surgeries. I want to smack them both, frankly. I keep feeling frantic, like I should have that surgery immediately, but I know it's about as dangerous as staying fat with my diabetes and the risk of complications. I get infections at the slightest provocation and my diabetes will get a lot better with weight loss, but I'd have to lose the weight before that happened, which with the right infection might not happen because like...I'D BE DEAD!

I am just going to do everything I can to get exercise in and go for it. Fuck the surgery and fuck being skinny. I just want to be healthy.

I guess shopping at Mervyn's for dressing up clothes didn't help my self view on my weight. I was thinking in the mirror how low my belly is hanging these days...I didn't realize how bad I look compared to my recent past, even. I could barely fit in the 2x sizes in pants, and the boobage made for 3x in tops because while they were a little big, I wasn't popping buttons. I did get some cute clothes however : one little black sweater top to go with several of the skirts in my closet, plus a hot pink and black skirt -- small design, so not loud and ugly; one turquoise pair of linen pants and a top to match; a couple of sleeveless blouses and a pair of chino fabric skorts -- those are just for comfy's sake.

I know that the hypothyroidism/diabetes combo is soooo kicking my ass. My sugars have been at new heights for me, too, because I don't have energy from the hypothyroidism. Most diabetics, I realize, think that anything under a 150 is good. For me, however, anything over 130 makes me physically tired, cranky, and otherwise pissy. I feel like I'm swimming my life in a pool of molasses and it really really sucks. At last count, the doctor said that my thyroid levels looked okay. I really feel like I could use about one more pill and I'd feel a whole shitload better and I'd have the energy I need to get my ass out the door to exercise.

I just miss being small and having energy. I was a size 16/18 and I felt good. I need to get there again because I'm hating being large and lethargic.

Friday, June 11, 2004

I am way lucky.

I have a really wonderful husband who loves me and treats me like a queen. He doesn't hurt me or my kids. He's a good guy. He puts up with my mood swings. When it was determined that having kids was too much risk, he got a vasectomy -- no questions asked.

When I turn him down for sex, he doesn't give me a hard time about it and we make up for it later. He doesn't sleep around on me.He chases me around the house, hugging and kissing on me for hours, as some kind of prolonged foreplay. He helps me out when I feel lousy and pitches in on everything.

He's a truly wonderful father. Where I lose my patience, he bends over, hugs and kisses them and he'll play games with them when I'm busy cooking or doing laundry.

And in case anyone is interested -- he has a really nice younger brother -- he's really cute, too -- just went into the Navy, so he's got a uniform. :)

I'm lucky I have such a good life. I sure paid my dues to get here, but I am way lucky.


Thursday, June 10, 2004

My period got better, but geesh, labor was about as awful. I just hope that next month isn't going to be that "fun." If so, I'm going to talk to Mike about how he'd feel about my sex change operation. Okay, maybe I'm not that willing to forego multiple orgasms, but you think weird things when it hurts that badly.

I wrote out a grant proposal and got the whole thing out the door and then the secretary, God Bless Her, called me to say that I'd changed the name of the addressee. I'm a stupidhead. No harm, no foul, as I'm able to print out the corrected version and she'll slip it into our application.

I'm learning. This is my first real one. I'm so excited and expectant. I tell ya.

I'm also lassoing friends into this. I think a benefit concert at Christmas that benefits Toys for Tots is a good cause and I'm going to pester everyone I know with two cents to rub together to do this with me. I'm like that.

I've got to finish the garden, get caught up on my sewing, and do laundry. However, laundry is currently an interesting proposition because the dryer broke. I'm hanging everything on the line until Monday when the part should be here. Suffice it to say, I'm learning the joys of fabric softener because towels straight out of the washer with no fabric softener are rough, which I don't like. It's not like I'm too delicate for myself, but I just like my towels to feel soft and mushy not rough and papery and I like my little fabric softener sheets.

You've gotta take joy from the little things!




I don't know if it's the transit of Venus or what, but doesn't it seem like a lot of bad things have been happening to a lot of good people? I don't want to recount the list of bad stuff around me, but it's been really hard to watch friends suffering. I've got a long prayer list is what it amounts to. I'm just hanging in there asking God to hold everyone in the light.

I know someone who's getting a divorce, someone whose kids have been "legally" kidnapped, someone who's been unemployed a long time, and a lot of people with icky medical issues. It's hard not to worry, you know?

I have so much of my own stuff, it's been difficult to pull my head out of the sand long enough to take care of me and then take care of everyone else. I usually take care of everyone else first and then about the time I'm ready to pass out from low sugars, I remember I should eat and take care of me.

Not good.

I haven't got a handle on how to fix this yet. I guess I'll be working on that.




Sunday, June 06, 2004

So tired. I have had a crappy week physically.

I had a metal box drop from the rafters of the garage and nail my big toe. The big cut and blister got infected, so I've been gimping about and taking antibiotics.

Then, yesterday, I got the period from hell.

When I was a teenager, I used to have debilitating periods. I'd spend the first day in a haze. If I had the luxury of being home, I'd just snooze on the couch.

Yesterday, I spent the entired day off my feet. Last night, I had to keep going to the bathroom because I felt uncomfortable and the cramps woke me up. I passed a huge clot this morning and I was so stunned by how big it was, I called the ob/gyn. She said, if this is a period, it'll get better. I want to just curl up in a ball and die.

The laundry needs to be done and the kitchen floor is crunchy -- I definitely don't feel like the timing of my death would be helpful at this time.

And you know? There is not enough ibuprofen on the whole fucking planet for a period that's this lousy.

I feel like that nauseating crampy crap you get when you're in the labor you get JUST before you realize you really need to get to the hospital, only you can't time the contractions -- it's an omnipresent thing without the benefit of knowing at the end of it you get a pretty baby to hold, kiss, and nurse. At the end of this, I get a whole 30 days before I do it again. Oh. bloody.fucking.joy.

My mom, apparently lacking the ability to find the right thing to say, told me she had 3 debilitating days a month until she was 60. The immediate reflex came up to say,"Shut the fuck up!" But I bit my tongue until it bled instead.

I can't do 20 years of this shit. My hope is that it's my body's way of saying that suppressing my periods with the use of the hormonal IUD means that there's a lot of old baggage in the old uterus and that this time we're just going to have a particularly thorough cleaning. Next month, I'm taking evening primrose oil and going for that short period thing again. Barring a hysterectomy, it's the best I can hope for.