Hope everyone's holidays are lovely. Tis the season for christmas, kwanza, hanukah, etc.

Christmas day was quiet and relaxed. I have stuff to tell, but I'm tired.

Later.

Because I'm too damned exhausted to do a real entry...

Your New Year's Resolutions

1) Get a pet chihuahua 2) Eat less onions 3) Travel to Japan 4) Study time travel 5) Get in shape with naked yoga

What Should Your New Year's Resoluton Be?

Your Pimp Name Is...

Brown Sugar Tease

What's Your Pimp Name?

Your Hawaiian Name is:

Laka Peni

What's your Hawaiian Name?

In a fit of insanity, we went to the mall this evening. I needed to get some xmas shopping done.

It wasn't as crowded and evil as one might think, but it wasn't easy either. I had a lot of stuff to get done and ended up pushing the wheel chair with bags of crap in it occasionally because there were times when there was no way of wheeling the wheelchair and carrying bags. Funny thing that.

I ended up on my feet too much. Two vicodan later, it's still pretty bad. My knee is really swollen and sore. My belly's hurting and generally I feel like crud.

I found Genny a lot of really cute and inexpensive clothes. I found Russell the gamecube game of his dreams. I found some puzzle books I think both Mike and Russell will enjoy. Genny had designs on some obnoxious princess books with buttons you push, but I was tired and cranky enough to where I suggested that we'd let Santa know and see what happened. I've already gotten her a stack of books -- enough's enough. I bought candy for stocking stuffers and I got one of three rolls of film developed. I have no idea what happened to the other two, though I think I might have left them in the car. Tomorrow, I hunt.

I picked up a few things for this single mom I know with 3 kids. We're going to sneak a bunch of stuff to her house. I got mom a little gift basket from Bath and Body and each girl got a pair of leggings and fancy socks. I have to hit a cheap store for shirts to match and I think LaDawn and I were discussing coats. I need to call her tomorrow and find out what's up.

On a totally unrelated note, I swear when vicodan hits -- it's like slipping into a favorite pair of socks -- warm, wooly, soft. It's hard to be in this much pain all the time. And when vicodan stops it for a while, it's a sweet reprieve.

I think I can sleep now.

I called my mom and dad and told them all the health news.

My mom totally understood about the thyroid. She's been there. She understands what it means to go from a quarter grain to 3 grains of thyroid in a year and a half's time. She understood when I said that while I could die from the bariatric surgery, that I was definitely going to die without it. I explained to her that my doctors had all recommended it. I told her about Dr. B crying.

My dad was another story. He railed and kvetched at me about how I just needed to eat right. I explained that I couldn't have the kinds of consistent lab results that I do with my diabetes, if I was actually eating like crap. I explained that I've been doing what my doctor says. He finally backed off. I felt bad. I finally said,"Dad, I know you love me and that's what this is about. I need to know that you love me and I appreciate how worried you are. I'm worried, too."

There was a long pause, while I held back tears. I said,"I love you, Dad." He said, "I love you, too." I said I had to get Genny and we hung up. Then I went inside LaDawn's and sat in a chair in the dark staring at the Christmas tree weeping.

I just feel like if I start crying right now that I won't stop. I've been crying on and off all day. It just feels like one more straw on this camel's back.

I told Mike that I've been teaching him how to do stuff, so that if I die, he can take care of the kids. He said something about how I should really try not to die and I said that I'm working like crazy not to. I also asked him to please take care of himself and work to make better choices. His idea of breakfast sometimes is to eat a poptart from the vending machine at work -- even though we have bagels, muffins, and cereal. I reminded him that he's in several high risk groups for diabetes, including that it runs in his family, he carries his weight in his belly, he's overweight, and he's Native American. He's agreed to work on it.

I've got stuff to do before I hit the hay...laundry waits for no woman.

I think the best part of the day was praying with LaDawn on the phone.

The second best part of the day was getting my Clay Art stoneware at Kohl's because I could actually get there in my wheelchair. This guy in the store was watching Mike running through the store with me,practically doing wheelies and scaring the crap out of me, and whined,"I want a ride!"

While Mike was checking out, I was sitting holding Genny and kissing on her, the ride guy came by and whined,"I want a ride!" again and I said,"Wreck your knee really bad and then you can have a ride, too!" He smirked and walked away.

Giving it to God when I can is always the biggest relief. Being a smart alec provides comic relief.

Taking relief where I can, I tell you whut.

It's been one of those years. I start to say days, then realize it's been months, and really, it's been at least a year or two.

So today, I get my wheelchair delivered. I remove the arms off it, so I can easily reach the wheels. I am just starting to get it wheeled out the door and the phone rings.

It's the ob/gyn doc. The sinking feeling in my stomach makes me nauseous. We'd said that if the results were bad that she should just call me. I've been checking the mail each day, hopeful that I wouldn't get the call, but a nice little postcard telling me that everything was normal.

She asked how I was doing. I said,"Not well, especially if you're calling me." She laughs and says:"Yeah, I told Donna (nurse) yesterday afternoon that I didn't want to call you and that it was just going to be hard." I said,"I'm sorry that it's not good news." She says,"Yeah, I woke up last night at 2AM thinking about it." I say,"Wow, don't worry me like that!" She laughs. I say,"So how bad is it?"

It's severe dysplasia again. Again! Maybe we missed something. Screw the LEEP, we're talking cone biopsy or hysterectomy? What a choice! I need to be knocked out. She can't do the cone biopsy, but her partner can. I trust her, so I trust him. That'll be ok.

How soon can I do the culposcopy? Tomorrow at 8AM. She needs to get her Christmas stuff done -- because she's not usually in the office.

If the cone biopsy doesn't get it, I get a hysterectomy.

I'm scared and sad and frustrated.

LaDawn and I talked. I said that I feel like God is testing me and I'm just trying to listen to what he wants from me.

So God, I was wondering, could I please pass already or flunk out and move on?

Saw the bariatric surgeon today.

I'm starting vitamin and food supplements/replacements. We'll test and see how it goes.

The prospect of this surgery has me in and out of tears. My mother had expressed concern about that I might die. I have come to grips with that I am going to die, if I don't do the surgery. I'm done duking it out with my thyroid. I am truly done.

He also wants me to get the orthopedist to get me to a physical therapist who can set up a means for me to exercise. This gives me hope. I just hope it doesn't involve vicodan every time I exercise.

Tomorrow is the boy's adoption hearing. I think it's mostly a formality, at this point. We pulled Russell out of school for the day and I'm taking him to see Narnia. In the evening, he picked out a restaurant. I'm thinking I would like to toss a party for New Year's commemorating this, so I'm going to put feelers out and see what people's plans are.

So...terrified of dying, Russell experiencing completion...yeah, that covers it.

I spent the weekend popping prescription painkillers and resting. Mostly just sitting in my chair. I had the stupidity to work out on Thursday -- it was a light water workout...nothing too awful, but Friday morning, we were circling in front of the urgent care waiting for it to open.

My orthopedist thinks I am just going to have to live with it until I lose weight. My counter is, how the fuck am I going to lose weight if I can't even workout without my knee swelling up like a balloon, hurting so badly that I'm not sleeping, and generally ruining my life? It's not supposed to make noises like this, nor hurt with this degree of pure agony.

I'm getting a wheelchair tomorrow and a blue placard. I think that I'm going to end up having to blow off substitute teaching and I may start up an ebay business of blanket making. I don't see how teaching from a wheelchair is going to work for me at all -- even if it's just part-time. Maybe there's ways, but I guess I'm feeling overwhelmed by the prospect at the moment.

I don't need anything overwhelming any more. I'm too mentally pooped at the prospect.

The knee is swelling a lot and the hopelessness quotient is rising.

I'm making appointments with doctors. I worry I'm in big bad trouble.

My knee is clicky and smooshy and oh, so painful.

Anti-inflammatories don't touch this and I can hardly justify another knee manicure in only 6 months time, though the agony might.

Things have just been holiday rush-ish.

We kind of did the Thanksgiving thing, then the next day bought and decorated a tree.

We still have some of the ornament boxes in the livingroom, dang it.

I feel like I am ever behind this enlarged mound o' laundry. I'm doing it, but it seems like the more I do, the worse it gets. It's kind of like the black hole of laundry. Clean clothes disappear into an abyss.

My knee is hideous. It's swollen, clicking, painful, etc. I've been given anti-inflammatory medications and the prospect a knee replacement sooner than later if I don't lose weight. I'm back to using the old lady carts at the stores. I'm avoiding stores with concrete floors that don't have the carts and I bought a bike, but I've only ridden it once because it's been really super cold, it's rained, or I've run out of time.

I'm hoping to get on it tomorrow if the storm has cleared, but it's rained all day long, though my knee has correspondingly seemed to suck the water out of the air and swell to larger proportions than usual.

I'm nervously eyeing the prospect of substitute teaching. If I'm teaching, I know I can't be on my feet all day -- my knee can't take it, but I am in a 'tween state, in that I am not quite ready for a wheelchair, however, I don't want to end up in surgery sooner versus later. At this point, I'd take the wheelchair, though to keep from aggravating my knee unduly.

Mike asked me what if I come into a room that isn't set up for wheelchairs. I told him I'd make kids move furniture until it was. I guess that doesn't phaze me in the least. Of course, at the end of the day, I'd ask them to move stuff back. However, I think this merits another discussion with the orthopedist. One thing I've been noticing is that walk through the parking lot can be excrutiating, so it might be nice to have a handicapped placard for my bad days and I really think I need a wheelchair as a back up. It might be worth finding out how much it would cost, too, to own one outright.

I am also considering getting a "band" on my stomach -- no, I don't mean a brass and drum section, but rather a temporary means of constricting how big my stomach is to lose weight. It is a lot less drastic than gastric bypass surgery and I need to look into it, as a means of considering my options. I think that would be a solution say for 6 months. I could build up my iron like gangbusters beforehand and find out a way of staving off my ever-present anemia during, and then have it removed and take what weight loss I get from it and keep on going with it. If I have a smaller body, it'll be easier to exercise and move it around -- bike or not and I suspect my poor knee would be happier, too.

Tomorrow is another day to get stuff done in, I guess.