Healing is Itchy

**This post is a TMI medical post. This is your warning.**

For the first time in Alice's educational career, I am missing Field Day. This makes me so very sad, I've gotten emotional a few times today. BUT I have a very good reason for missing it.

Last Tuesday, I had a hysterectomy. 

Who has two thumbs and no uterus?! 

THIS GIRL!! (points to self)

For years, I have had terrible cycles. Debilitatingly painful, heavy, inconsistent cycles. I have requested surgery and have always been told the same thing - "with your medical history, no doctor is ever going to be willing to do that. Periods are just painful sometimes."

So I've managed with muscle relaxers and heavy pain meds that don't work. I've stayed in bed with the lights off in the only position that doesn't hurt. I've lost sleep due to pain. I've sat with a heating pad for hours hoping to relieve a little bit of the discomfort. 

Nothing helps. But, you know, periods are just painful sometimes.

My yearly visit arrived and I wasn't able to schedule with my usual OB/GYN. My medical system works to where I can pick any doctor available. So by chance and availability, I met Dr. Beasley in December. 

I told her my history and my issues. And for the first time, I had a doctor say "well, let's order an ultrasound and see if there is anything additional going on."

She listened.

I had the ultrasound and was diagnosed with adenomyosis. This can be treated with hormone replacements however, due to my clotting condition, I can't touch a hormone. So, the only other way to fix the problem is surgery. And this doctor looked at all the things, thought about it and said, "since you haven't had a clotting issue in so long, I think we can do that."

Any surgery for me means I have to bridge my clotting medication. I have to switch from my normal medicine to one that stays in my system for less time. I go from pills to two shots to the tummy daily. This bridge happens leading up to the surgery and after the surgery until my INR is up to where it needs to be to be therapeutic. (I'm still taking the shots and they are the lamest part of this process.) 

Because of this - I had to see a hematologist. (If you have been with me for any amount of time, you know my spiritual gift is collecting ologists.) I met with one originally years ago when I moved over to the Kelsey Seybold system. She said their Coumadin Clinic would handle my results and I shouldn't have to see her again. Well, now I had to see her only I didn't want to drive that far. So I met a new hematologist closer to home and she says she wants to actually see me occasionally. I mean, that's fair. 

We scheduled the surgery for a Tuesday knowing I would need to stay the night because my doctor wanted to be able to start my blood thinners again. My mom stayed with me and we had a nice time.

Surgery took a bit longer than planned due to extra scar tissue. Everything went well though and I have had zero issues with the healing process. What ever anesthesia did to keep me from being nauseous - BLESS. THEM. I was up and moving around Tuesday evening with no issues.  

The doctor came by Wednesday to check on me. She showed me pictures of the before and after. Before they started the surgery, they found blood in my abdomen. Because my uterus is the gift that keeps on giving, I started my period two days before surgery - one last gift. She said I had undiagnosed endometriosis and have been bleeding in to my abdomen for some unknown amount of time during my cycles. The colleague she had with her told her it was one of the worst cases she's seen in her 20+ years of doing this. 

That's on brand for me.

I came home and told my Beloved I spent years feeling like I was being overdramatic and that my pain was way worse in my head than in reality.

Because periods are just painful sometimes.

In my years of collecting ologists, I am quick to find a new doctor if I feel like they are not listening. However, I have not been that way with my OB/GYNs because maybe the pain is just bad to me. Had I not ever scheduled an appointment with this doctor, I might not have ever had the validation of knowing something was really wrong. 

I am so thankful for this life improving surgery. For a doctor willing to take the extra step. For an anesthesia team who knew their stuff. For my supportive Beloved who took care of all the things. For my Mom who is my best medical advocate. For my loving village who stepped in to help with Alice. For the same village sending me pictures of Alice today at her very last elementary Field Day. For an abdominal wrap and Tylenol (the good drugs made me itchy because of course they did.) For the two extra drawers we'll now have in the bathroom. For not having two women in the house on their cycles at the same time (this hasn't been an issue yet - but we know it's coming.)

My incisions are healing. My stomach is bruised. I'm a little itchy because the healing process is itchy. My heart is happy.

It wasn't all in my head.

Ladies, if you are hurting and your doctor is diminishing your pain - find a different doctor.

Because periods should not always be that painful sometimes....

Until next time.... 

To My 20 Year Old Self

Girl, brace yourself. 

Today we turned 40.

4!0!

I have been massively wishy washy on this. 

A part of me doesn't think it's a huge deal. It's just a number, who cares! Tomorrow I will feel the same as I did yesterday. I won't be any more grown up. I won't be any more "together." Hopefully, I won't be any less together! 

I'm kinda proud to say "I'm turning 40!" because then everyone looks at me, like "what?! you?!" Yep. Me in my CareBear pants. 40. 

But there's small part that starts doing math and that math equals Alice will be 18 when I turn 50 and then I start to freak out. That feels like a HUGE age difference! She will have so much time left and I want to eventually see my grandkids and then I stress about her being alone and get all emotional and then the wonderful man you married has to talk you down. This happens often. We married good, girl. (Spoiler alert: we TOTALLY married that super polite boy with the nice eyes from our SFA 101: Radio/TV class. I mean, it takes a while, but we get there.)

Then a part of me wants to freak out because I realize I'm not a "grown up" grownup. I still don't have my ish together. I'm not sure if we are where we pictured ourselves being because honestly, I don't remember spending a lot of time thinking about it. Maybe in hindsight that is something I would do different. But probably not. 

I am coming to terms with this not being my Momma's 40. My life trajectory does not resemble hers and most days that feels okay. Most days I feel like I am where I should be and all of my friends are here too. And then some days I freak out because at 40, I probably shouldn't be wearing CareBear pj pants to work. But they're comfy!  

Our emotional state is often set on spin cycle but our Beloved loves us so it's cool.

In the event we get a do over, here are some things I want to tell you. 

* Start taking care of your body right now. I know what you're thinking, "ma'am, I don't gain weight." Hush, child. It's coming..... Start making healthy food choices and for the love of all things holy and sacred, start exercising because one day we will be 5 years past that point of that being important and starting then will SUCK. Real talk.

* Spring of 2019, start saving and hoarding toilet paper, hand sanitizer, masks and cleaning products. Don't ask, just do it. 

* Guarding your heart will sometimes feel silly. You will second guess your decision to not be a little more reckless when it comes to relationships. You will feel the pressure to be a little less cautious. BUT - you are doing the right thing. Our whole heart was meant for our Beloved. And our relationship with him is worth never going back to change a damn thing. Period. If every decision we made led to him, make them again and again and again. Every. Time.

* Budget. Better. So gross. 

* Listen to your heart when it comes to things you question that contradicts the views you were raised on. Start using your voice now. Recognize when things are not just and scream really loud. Commit more time to making the world a better place. Understand that you are not meant to indefinitely make your parents proud. Your responsibility is to fight for a better world for our girl. And if your heart and head are screaming NOOOOOOO to something - LISTEN. The older we get, the divide between what we were taught and what our head tells us gets bigger. You will want to feel torn but you don't have to. It's the catch 22 of raising strong children who can think for themselves. Eventually, they do. And sometimes those thoughts don't match. And that's okay. 

* One day, you will have a terrible boss who will drive you to use terrible words. Try really hard not to because you will eventually let them slip in front of our child and then she will use them. She will use them correctly and a part of you will want to be proud but mostly you will feel shame because that's the correct response. Trust me, I've asked. 

There are probably a ton of other things I should have prioritized to share with you but that's where I am.

Hindsight is a tricky beast. It makes you feel like there are so many things you would go back and change. While a small voice will list them out, a louder voice will scream BUT LOOK WHERE WE ARE!!! 

And where we are is pretty great. 

We have a happy home full of love. 

We have a job doing nothing we went to school for but it's with a fantastic company and it meets our needs while giving us the freedom to wear our pjs to work. GIRL! 

So all that doubt we carry doesn't really matter. 

And maybe turning 40 isn't such a big deal. 

Here's to the next 20.

Love,

T

Until next time.....

March Sadness, the Remix Edition

Y'all, I just don't know what it is about me and the month of March. We just cannot seem to be friends. 

It has been a heavy, heavy month and I am hoping April is lighter.

7 days: That's how many days Alice went to school in the month of March and one of those days was our Zoo trip. She missed the first full week due to the flu, the next week was Spring Break and then the following week she only got to go to school once due to a nasty plant fire in Deer Park.

To say I was spent is an understatement. I am not sure how I am going to survive summer. 

God Bless Fraud Alert: The middle of Spring Break I get a text from my credit card company asking if I just charged more than $900 to GoDaddy. That would be a hard no. So I'm standing in Target with the card people making sure the card gets cancelled. And of course it's the one that all my monthly charges go to because that's how the world works. It takes about a week to get a new card and then I had to go through all the changing over. I *think* I have everything moved over. Time will tell......

New Casting: I've reached the breaking point with 90% of my medical professionals so I am starting all over. ALL OVER!!!!!! 
1. I haven't heard from my breast surgeon since November. This does not thrill me.
2. The company that monitors my INR machine has turned off my account again because I have only tested once a month for a few months and my order is for 2. This is also the company that had me throw away 4 boxes of test strips due to a recall and only sent 1 box as a replacement. I mentioned I don't have enough strips and she asked why I haven't mentioned this before. "I have, EVERY TIME I call!" This all means I have to get a new order from my Hematologist before I can speak to them again.
3. I have been trying to get an appointment to see my Hematologist since January only they can't find the referral my PCP sent over. In fact, the 4 times I have spoken to them they have let me know that I haven't had an active referral since 2016. This is not AT ALL the truth since I am diligent and dedicated and put alarms in my phone to request updated referrals because I attempt to be on top of my ish. I have resorted to snapping and impatience EVERY TIME I have spoken to the office. They can't spell my name right and then ask if I'm a new patient. Nope, I've seen him the last 6 years. (Side rant: I called to have my referral for my Hematologist renewed in January and the girl in the PCP office said it expired the day before. I told her I know, that's why I need a new one. She says, "well, it won't be renewal then because it's expired, it will just be a new referral." I might have replied with something testy. JUST DO IT!!!!!
4. My Urologist has retired and my Rheumatologist left the practice unexpectedly. I have seen her twice. That's it. And my prescription is up in about 60 days so I need a new one. Finding a Rheumatologist is lame but it's okay because I didn't like her anyway. 
5. I hate my PCP's office. They never have appointments when I need them.
Me "I think I have an infection." Them "the doctor can see you next Thursday at 2pm or you can come in as a walk-in today." Then I sit in the office for about 2 hours to see a PA who inevitably will call me before I make it to the pharmacy with a change because "you are on Coumadin." Yep, I have been for the last 6 years so I'm pretty confident it is in my chart.

Back when I was collecting specialists, my then Rheumatologist (who I loved but stopped taking my insurance) recommended I see an Internal Medicine doctor and not a General Practitioner. She thinks I need someone to look at the big picture and not just the immediate. She is not wrong. I stuck with who I had because it was easy and change is dumb. But I'm at my point of enough so I'm starting over. I've decided to go back to the Kelsey-Seybold system. I am hoping it will make my meeting with specialists and all the testing I have to have done so much easier. I need easier. We will see how it works out. 

20 Years: It was 20 years since we lost Dad this past week. 20. I was worried about my state of mind all month. My Beloved brought home some Corona for me and I got through the day with no issues. Sometimes 20 years just feels like a Wednesday. And then on Saturday as I was driving to Book Club, I had to pass the cemetery so I thought I would stop. I cried most of the way there. I hate cemeteries. I never feel closer to Dad when I'm there. I spend more time talking to him in my car when it's just us then I ever would standing over a stone. So much so that I have only been out to his grave a handful of times and I can't remember the last time I stopped in. It has been so long that I had to call Mom and ask her where he was. What kind of daughter can't find her dead dad?! 

Sometimes 20 years feels like a Wednesday. And sometimes 20 years, plus a few days feels like the bottom has fallen out again.

This year I've been a bit more angry than I usually have been. Usually when the dam breaks, I am just broken but lately I've been mad at him and his choices. I was dwelling too much a few months ago and in sadness said that if only he had loved me enough to come to my play that night, he might would still be alive. My Beloved said that's a heavy weight I don't need to be carrying.

My Beloved loves me through the breaks. Every time. (As of today, the dam has been fortified and I am in a good place.)

So I'm hoping for a lighter April. One with more school, less medical professional stress and no more random naked men. Although, he did add a break for humor.

Until next time.......

I stood here.....

I love crunchy leaves. I will go out of my way to stomp on crunchy leaves. So much so that when I'm on a Book Club adventure with girls I haven't seen in years, I will abandon the group for a lovely pile of crunchy leaves. 

Sorry, Ladies, they call me. 

Yesterday, our book club spent the afternoon on Galveston Island in honor of our most recent book, Dark Water Rising by Marian Hale. We drove the island looking for landmarks mentioned in the book and we made a stop at Garten Verein for a walk through the park. 

We met up for dinner with our 5th member and her ADORABLE young man. *Henry, you can always sit by me.* We talked some about the book but mostly we just talked.Talked about medical woes and plays we did at church when we were little. We talked about life and kids and fractions. I say, just eat the whole pie! 

No pressure, no stress - just a visit with old (plus a new) friends. 

And it was lovely.

We ended the adventure with a sunset trip to the strand where I kept my tennis shoes on because, sand....no thank you. 

That's WAY too much outside for me.

Nope.

Too close.

Until next time.......




 

An Update

I haven't mentioned my boob in a while. How refreshing! However, I know some are curious so here goes the update....

Since my last post, I developed a third abscess. It was, by far, the worst. Luckily, it was also the last. 

I stopped going to physical therapy. I have a hand massager that I use on my own at home. It seems to do the trick.

We've tapered my steroids. 

I've plateaued in the healing process. It's discouraging. 

I have one little knot left and it seems to be super comfortable. It's not growing, but it's not shrinking either. 

I left my massager at home while we were on vacation and it did grow a bit. I saw the doctor when we got back and she noticed it too. She also wanted to see what it would do with no steroids so I was told to finish my pills, give it a few days, and see her again.

I took my last steroid on Sunday and by my appointment on Thursday, the spot HURT and the tissue around it was swollen again. 

This isn't surprising. Everything we've read about this stupid disease says it's a long process to heal. Most articles listed 6 - 12 months and we're only at 6 months since diagnosis and treatment. I've come a long way and I've made lots of progress!! But it's a marathon, not a race.

So I'm back on steroids. 

The end goal is to get the spot small enough to surgically remove, however, the tissue around the spot must also be disease-free or this will happen again. With that being said, I will continue the steroids (it's a small dose) until maybe next spring, that way we can ensure all of the tissue is healed. 

Since acquiring me as a patient, my surgeon has had two more cases come to her. 

And all of a sudden I don't feel all that rare anymore, how gross! ;) 

Just kidding. 

Until next time.....

Boobs, schmoobs

I'm totally over boobs. 

They are just one of the dumbest things ever created. 

Well, at least my right one is. So far the left hasn't caused any problems. 

After my last post, I developed a second abscess. 

Go, me! 

This has led to an open wound that I have to treat until all of the 'infection' works its way out.  I have to keep it covered only that usually means that whatever I cover it with gets stuck to it and the scab is ripped off every time it is replaced. This feels AS LOVELY as it sounds. What started as two small holes have now joined forces to create one large hole. 

I googled 'abscess' and immediately regretted it. I can never unsee that. In the event the things I witnessed online happen to me, I will need MUCH stronger meds. 

I also get to go to physical therapy. For my boob. 

This is as awkward as it sounds. 

I lie there while my physical therapist lasers and ultrasounds and rubs by boob while we make small talk. 

Yep. 

Today my therapist called my Boobolist to double check her extremely large printed orders (of which she has me carry a copy in my purse and in the event there is a question, I am to call her). She mentioned my open wound and the doctor told her not to worry about it and to make the hole big enough to get all the stuff out. And then said "have a blessed day." 

Jesus, take the wheel.

I mentioned to her that I was over all of it, wanted the entire thing removed, and I was going to get a knitted boob as a replacement. She said they come with their own issues. I'm willing to look past those. 

When I'm not in physical therapy, I have a hand massager that I have to use at least once a day to rub at it to attempt to break up the tissue. It traveled with me to my In Laws this weekend and my beloved Father in Law laughed when I plugged it in BECAUSE IT IS THE MOST RIDICULOUS THING EVER! I told him it was completely fine to laugh because it's all just so very dumb.

The medical professionals also recommend airing it out as much as I can. Seriously. I'm just supposed to let it all hang out. Girl, no. That's not happening. I spend WAY too much time on Marco Polo talking to my people without paying any attention to what I look like. What if I forgot?! They DO NOT need to see that!! 

I am the most modest person possible. I'm prude even. And here I am, showing every medical professional in all of Houston my boobs. And they always ask to see both! They need a reference, they say. I mean, come on. 

The level of ridiculousness is astounding. 

And there is no end in sight. This could last another 10 months. 10. Months. 

They know nothing about this disease other than 'this worked once' and 'it can take up to 12 months to completely heal.' 12. Months. 

Y'all. 

I am discouraged. 

I am attempting to find the humor! 

But it is hard right now.

And other adulting stresses aren't helping any. 

Writing it down helps. 

I have moments of complete and total defeat and I remind myself that it could be worse. It is worse for some. I am so very, very lucky. I KNOW this. I do not take this for granted. 

But this oozing boob is bollocks. 
.
Until next time....

....when I'll probably STILL be writing about my stupid, stupid boob. 

Side-Effect Sally

So I should probably tell you how I'm doing health wise. 

Since my last post, the abscess drained. It wasn't as bad as I imagined. It wasn't lovely! But it wasn't the ending scene of a horror movie either. I'm actually thankful we were able to speak with the doctor the day before it started oozing so I was slightly prepared. Had it just started bleeding, I would have had a complete and total meltdown and the house might have resembled the prom scene from Carrie.  

I immediately started my steroids and the antibiotics and now I have all the fun stuff that comes with those! I'm hungry ALL OF THE TIME!!!! Seriously. Ravenously hungry. I'd coat the dog in Nutella if it weren't for all his hair hungry. I know it's the Prednisone and I'm trying my best to not snack but it's so hard. And I want all things sweet, which is bad because Prednisone will do wonky things to your blood sugars and I don't want to end this adventure with a Diabetes diagnosis. So I'm having to physically remove temptations from the house. The struggle is REAL. And I have grown dangerously attached to the Iced Caramel Mocha's from McDondald's. SO YUMMY!!!!! BUT SO BAD!! 

The steroids will also mess with your calcium so I've added that to my daily routine, only I have to be careful when I take it during the day so it doesn't mess with my other pills. 

The steroids will also mess with your emotions. I blame all my moods on it now. HOLLA!! When I'm hungry - HULK HUNGRY!! When I'm mad - HULK MAD!! When I was hurting and things were oozing and I was crying over my sink - HULK SAAAAD!! But I'm functioning. And we're taking it day by day. Alice now says "HULK HUNGY!!" It's the cutest! 

I feel puffy and bloated and gross. And my face is starting to breakout. Again, all normal side effects. And since I'm Side-Effect Sally, I get THEM ALL!! Even the obscure ones that are in tiny print at the bottom of the medicine information - yep, those are mine! Steroids compromise your immune system and can result in various forms of yeast infections, ALL of which SUCK and no amount of yogurt consumed will keep me from getting. I now get to swish with Nystatin every 4 hours. Lame. In hopes of not encouraging yeast issues, I have to avoid sweets, caffeine, and alcohol. So double lame.   

When I start new meds, I have to monitor my blood levels closely. I'm a fragile Coumadin taker. It takes a lot to get me therapeutic and not much at all to completely screw it up. So with the addition of the steroids and the antibiotics, things have been a bit dicey. I have a machine that I can check my INR from home. The strips are crazy expensive but on my normal schedule (every 6 - 8 weeks) it saves me the copays of going in. 

For me, therapeutic is 1.9 - 3. I checked it a few weeks ago and it was 8. Actually, it read "> 8" only I didn't realize it didn't go higher than that so there's no telling what it was. I didn't have any of the usual signs of being dangerously high! I didn't have any bruising. My one glass of wine wasn't making me completely loopy. I was having massive palpitations but that could have been the steroids. Regardless, I had to go off the blood thinners, eat my weight in Kale, and recheck every day. I don't usually get to eat Kale, I have to avoid foods high in Vitamin K. I'm not missing much. 

And let me tell you, going from an extremely high INR to a normal INR hurts. It's the weirdest sensation ever. It's like I can feel my blood thickening. My damaged leg hurts, I get horrible headaches, it's crazy! 

We got everything leveled out but it happened again this week. So now we've adjusted my Coumadin and will continue to monitor it as I keep with the treatment plan. 

As far as how I feel, I feel fine! After the oozing, the pain immediately went away. Things have healed well and while there is still some discoloration, the pain is mostly gone. I can sleep on my side again!! HALLELUJAH! I have a heated hand massager that I use to attempt to break up the scar tissue some. Occasionally I will hit something the wrong way and be reminded that things are still healing but for the most part, I'm feeling MUCH better.

I'm not sleeping real well though. Again, something common with the drug. So that's making the days harder and my patience lower but I'm trying!

With steroids, you have to taper them down, you can't just quit. I went from 60 mg to 40 mg this week which makes me hopeful. My hope is that I went through the worst of it already and now we're just healing. I'm hoping the healing goes by a little faster. 

I have another follow up in a few weeks. I'm hoping by then she'll let me start working out again, I think the inactivity is also contributing to my lack of sleep. 

So overall, I'm doing good! 

I'm no longer on the antibiotics and that's nice.

I'm self conscious about how I look so I'll probably be in less pictures in the next few months. I'm frustrated with all of the side effects I'm dealing with and I'm ready to be done with it all. 

But mainly I'm glad the pain is mostly gone and there's an end in sight. 

Here's hoping it keeps going that way.

Until next time.....

D is for Diagnosis

Well, it's NOT cancer! 

However, it will be time consuming, painful, and extremely annoying. 

After tons of tests and several biopsies, I have been diagnosed with Granulomatous Mastitis. 

It's rare.

Yay.

It's also chronic.

Double yay.

And the treatment is not immediate. It's a long haul game. It's 5 - 10 months of high doses of steroids along with antibiotics. It'll be painful and it will eventually form an abscess that will eventually start to purge itself. 

Triple yay. 

When I say this is rare - it's really, really rare. My Breast Specialist has seen it twice in her 22 years in the business. I'm her #2. Her colleague who has been doing this longer than her has had 3 cases. 

There is no way to predict it. No way to prevent it. No way to tell where it came from. In some cases it proves to be an autoimmune issue. So, that's just lovely. 

Now I'm waiting on my Boobologist to contact my Rheumatologist and my Hematologist to go over medications. You see, I'm a trial because I am on blood thinners and I am also on a medication for my previous run-in with autoimmune issues. So they have to work through and decide what will work best for me. For a regular patient, the main goal would be to cure the infection. For me, the main goal is to keep me from clotting or bleeding out while we cure the infection. And Coumadin does not play well with others. At all. Too much bleeding is not a good thing. 

I am SO relieved it's not cancer.

SO RELIEVED!

I've spent the last two months absolutely terrified. "How will I tell Alice? What if I'm not strong enough to get through it? What if it's spreading while I'm sitting here WAITING ON MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS??!"

Yes, I am relieved. 

I might actually sleep tonight.

However, I do wish the answer was easier. I wish there was a quick fix. I am so very tired of the pain. And I'm not really looking forward to the medications.

I will go on antibiotics which will cause ALL LOADS of problems. These problems will be extremely uncomfortable. Good times. 

Steroids cause ALL LOADS of side effects that I am NOT looking forward to. When I left the hospital with Alice, I was on steroids. I stayed on them for many months and I gained so much weight. And that dose was small! The doctor mentioned 40 - 60 mg of steroids today. So the vanity side of me is so very, very discouraged. I worked so hard to get to a place where I felt better about myself in pictures and now I'm going to gain it all back and then some. Steroids are going to cause MAJOR mood swings and acne. I'm going to look like a pubescent Pooh Bear. 

AND then there's the pain and drainage. 

And I feel absolutely horrible having these feelings when it could have been much worse. But there it is. 

Yesterday I was crying about potentially losing my hair and my life. And today I'm crying because I'm going to look like a chubby bunny in pictures and none of my clothes are going to fit....again. 

And I know it's horribly selfish. But, again, there it is. 

So now I'm supposed to ice and heat and take Tylenol for the pain. We bought gauze and hand sanitizer for for the potential oozing, which just sounds delightful! And we bought an ace wrap because compression is key. We also bought two bottles of wine because I've earned them.

Now for the special mentions.

I am so thankful for my Boobologist who finally made things happen. Not fun things! But things nonetheless. 

I am also thankful for my mom and my wonderful in-law's who jumped in to help with Alice. It was way less stressful to know she was taken care of. 

I have a village of people who prayed and sent happy thoughts and well wishes and good vibes. I am thankful for each of you.

I am also thankful Tami and Shani were both wrong and it was NOT my twin. ;)

But most of all, I'm thankful for my Beloved. He's had to deal with an absolute basket-case and he handles it so well. He loves me where I am. Always. No matter what rare $#%@ I come home with. 

Tonight I will have a drink to Not Cancer and to answers and to an eventual end. 

Here's hoping I can add to the rare and be a case that heals quickly! 

Now I'm going to go ice my boob. ;)

Until next time.....

RECASTING!

Y'all, March and I do not get along.

When I left my original Boobologist's office on March 1st, it was with the understanding that they were working on scheduling a biopsy surgery for first thing on the 13th (today) and would call with the details when finalized. 

And I never heard from them again. I called almost every day because they needed to contact my Hematologist to discuss what would need to be done with my medication. 

I called to leave my cell number.

I called to leave my Hematologist number.

I called to say, "I can't have surgery next Monday without instructions from my Hematologist" about a MILLION TIMES! 

I was told all of these things were being added to my chart.

Because I understand the seriousness of my medications, I emailed my Hematologist the afternoon I got home from the surgeon's office. His nurse said she would call me by end of day or the next day with directions. And I never heard back from her either.

The next Monday I called and spoke with someone else in the office who I could tell wouldn't be helpful. And Tuesday I finally contacted my favorite nurse. I don't like to call her first because I'm pretty sure it's not her job! She isn't really my doctor's nurse! BUT she loves me and she's good at her job. 

She immediately lets the PA know she needs to call me. 

My right arm has been sore for a few weeks now and my joints have been a bit puffy. And once again, I worried about a blood clot. So at 4:30pm on Tuesday night, I loaded Alice in the car and I headed to the ER. Hint for future reference: if ever you need to go to the ER, say you think it's a clot. They pay attention really quick. 

As I'm filling out paperwork, the PA from my Hematology office calls. I let her know where I am and she says "you could have called me, I would have ordered a Doppler." GIRL!! DO NOT START!! I've been trying to get SOME SORT OF MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL TO CALL ME BACK FOR 4 DAYS!! No ma'am. I am in no mood.

So I have my 5th Doppler scan and my arm is blood clot free. The ultrasound tech gave me some sass about being worried about blood clots when I'm actively taking Coumadin. He hinted that I should just be more compliant with my doctor's orders. 

Honey, you do not know me. With my history of clots, I try not to mess with that. I was on blood thinners for my entire pregnancy and my placenta was still covered in clots. So what,  I have an ER bill now. It's better than throwing a blood clot at home in front of my 4 year old. He apparently had the same condescending comments for the ER doctor who quickly told him people with Antiphospholipid Syndrome and Lupus markers can still clot on blood thinners. Bless him. It made me feel better about going in. 

Thursday rolls around and I am at a loss. After school, we take Alice to the Livestock show. While there, my favorite nurse calls me. "Ummm, (the PA) said you were in the ER! What is going on!" 

So I tell her. I tell her everything. I end it with "and now I'm freaking out because there's a 10% chance this is something serious and I am the ONLY ONE concerned!!" She writes everything down and vows to make something happen. Bless. Her. Melissa is my favorite.

She starts harassing the surgeons office. She mentions that with everything going on, the PA will probably want to see me. Greeeeeaaaaaaat. 

Friday morning I FINALLY hear from the surgeon's office. It was the nurse asking for the phone number to my Hematologist office. Nope. I'm out.

I hear from Melissa who wants me to come in that day to meet with the PA. 

I pack Alice up again. (When I mention I need to go to the doctor, she now asks if it's my Boob Doctor. Probably this is my fault.) I go over the timeline with my PA and she does an exam. She mentions they have a Breast Specialist on site so I take her card for the referral. She also mentions my Hematologist is also an Oncologist that handles this kind of stuff. I know this. I just went a different direction! He doesn't usually give me breast exams so I went with my OB. And plus, he's a boy. 

But I should have started with him. And now I'm only going to them. They are Texas Oncology after all. Now I know I will get the information I need and it will all be in one place. Plus, they validate parking.

I sign the paperwork to get my results sent to my Hematologist. The PA called this morning to tell me that Dr. Foote would like to do a MRI before they just start cutting on me. This seems reasonable. So now I'm waiting for my MRI to be scheduled. 

And I still haven't heard from my original surgeon's office. 

I hope to have better answers soon.

Like, really, really soon.

Until next time.....

B is for.....

...Boob.

One dumb boob.

A little over a month ago, Alice spent some time under my right arm with her heavy head resting on my right boob. The next morning I woke up and it hurt. I noticed a line of swollen something in my right breast. I thought it was a muscle and tried not to sleep on my right side (which is how I ALWAYS sleep) and I tried not to exercise or upset it more. I even rubbed muscle cream on it to try to help alleviate the pain. 

I googled stuff. I didn't have any of the more usual symptoms of cancer. I worried it could be a blood clot but I'm on blood thinners and I stay therapeutic for the most part. In my world, if it's something not right - it's a blood clot. I questioned whether or not I needed to go to the doctor for it. I thought it was a muscle! Most of my medical charts are substantial - I don't want to have "sprained boob" added to any of them. Seriously. How lame would that be?!

But after a month, it was still there and the panic started to set in so I scheduled an appointment with my OB/GYN. 

I had to wait for over an hour to see her so by the time I get to the room, I'm a complete wreck. While the nurse is checking vitals my doctor comes in and asks why I'm there. I immediately start crying. The nurse said she would come back for the blood pressure. Spoiler alert - it didn't do any good to wait on that. My doctor does an exam and says it's not a muscle and that she's calling her Breast Surgeon to try to get me in that day. 

Enter COMPLETE FREAK MODE. SURGEON! TODAY!

They confirm that the other doctor can see me and they send me down to her floor. I'm sure they told me her name but I heard nothing but "7th floor" so I just walked around until I read something that said 'breast' on the door and went in. 

I picked up a new 'ologist' - Boobologist. Technically 'Surgeon' but 'ologists' are what I collect. New nurse, new vitals check. To say my blood pressure was within normal limits would be a lie. And so I also get orders to go back to my Cardiologist. 

The surgeon looks at things and feels around and orders a mammogram and an ultrasound. She thinks on a scale of 1-10, my Freak Mode level should be at a 1.5. I like her. She's quirky and straightforward and thorough. 

The next week I got to have a baseline mammogram, a diagnostic mammogram, and an ultrasound. And then I bought ice cream and more wine. 

This is my side rant about mammography machines. THEY ARE THE DUMBEST DESIGN EVER!! Seriously! There HAS to be a better way! Forget walls or Russia or other planets. THIS should be what's important!!! FIND A NEW WAY, WORLD!!!  I walked away with 2 sore boobs instead of 1.

Everything looks normal. They just look like boobs. Apparently I have extremely dense breasts. The Radiologist mentioned this several times. I'm not sure if I was supposed to respond with "thanks" or 'I'm sorry." 

While everything on the imaging tests look good, there is still something there so we're scheduling a surgical biopsy to be sure. There is only a 10% chance it is something troublesome. I wish she would have said 2% but we don't know each other that well yet. 

I'm hoping this is a just a really expensive way to find out my dense boobs are extra sensitive and I take longer to heal than others. We'll see.

So now I'm waiting on medication instructions from my Hematologist and the surgery schedule from my Boobologist. 

Ironically enough, my blood pressure was decent at today's Rheumatologist appointment! So either I've come to terms with things or my anti anxiety essential oil regimen is working today. Whichever, I'll take it! 

Fun side story. I had my follow up appointment yesterday and while I was in the waiting room, the news was on. They were doing a story on some HPD officers who were involved in a shooting. They were talking about how one of their daughters was flown down to be with him. She was escorted to the airport by Boston PD, flew free thanks to American Airlines, and picked up and escorted to her dad by HPD. Y'all. My eyes are filling and I'm looking EVERYWHERE for the stupid remote thinking, "SHHHHHHH!!!!!! They haven't checked my blood pressure yet!! I DO NOT NEED THESE EXTRA FEELINGS!!!" Cops and their kids - they get me every time. 

So now we wait. 

And this isn't meant to scare or incite sympathy. That's not my goal. This is just my outlet. My way of organizing my thoughts and remembering the details. My way to find the funny amidst the stress. 

I'm thankful I finally went in. I'm thankful Dr. Miltenburg is being extremely thorough and hasn't diminished my feelings or my thoughts. And I'm hopeful this will be over soon. 

Until next time......

PS: Never in a million years did I think I would be blogging about boobs. Yeesh. It's just so unladylike! ;)

A Little Loser Chair

In a past life, I helped produce broadcast commercials. This meant LONG shoot days, mostly outside in less than comfortable locations. So after the first commercial shoot I worked on, I bought myself a little chair so I would have somewhere to sit. It's a tiny, fold up camp chair. I tried to find the smallest so not only would it be easy to transport, it would also be too uncomfortable for anyone else to want to sit on and it had a cup holder!! SOLD! 

The first time the director saw it, he noted how small, sad, and uncomfortable it looked. Perfect!! I teasingly called it my little loser chair. And the chair would always be available for me!! Only it wasn't. I would find him sitting it in often if his chair was too far. His nice, comfortable directors chair. "Hey! That's my little loser chair!" Him "it's not as bad as it looks!" Oh great. 

Fast forward to now, many years later when shoot days are a past life and now it's perfect for Alice. Sometimes when I'm sitting in it, she will crawl into my lap and I'm hopeful it'll hold. 

And note that she has removed my cup and replaced it with hers. 

Someone is always stealing my chair! 

But she's a lot cuter so I don't mind so much. 

Until next time.....

A Mermaid, The Muppets, and Me

Let me start by saying that last week I *might* have been a bit on the emotional side. I wasn't feeling well, I had cramps, my computer had eaten my sister's guest list, and I was watching Parenthood so I was a complete basket case. Going into this story, it's important to understand that I was already on a downward slope.

So Wednesday, my Beloved had a huge event at his school. I knew Alice and I didn't have any errands so I just threw on whatever I grabbed from my closet which happened to be my Muppet's shirt. You know, the one where they're walking across a street like the Beatles album cover? That one. 

Around 4ish, Daniel calls and asks if I could bring him my easel and a picture frame because he needs to display directional signs. Sure! So I fight to get the kid in the car. She feels that now that she is 4, it's completely reasonable for her to stay on her own. So the battle was loud. Very loud. Which ended with her saying, "PINE!! I'll put my shoes on! Uggghhhh!" like she's 14. Y'all, 4 is lame. I'm not going to make it. 

I get everything in the car and we head to the school. We get there and start working on this sign in my Beloved's office. My hair is a mess, I'm dressed like a student, I might have eaten a few chocolate pumpkins and therefore smelled liked chocolate, I'm cranky, and I'm feeling a little self conscious. 

And in walks this beautifully dressed, red headed young woman who says, "Hi, I'm Ariel. I think you were looking for me?" (Seriously, she said her name was Ariel and I almost said, "well, of course it is.") She was just so put together! Her hair was long and beautiful and done, like she had time to do it! And her make up was flawless, like she knew how to do it! She was dressed all professional with that look that said, "I'm really busy and important." 

And I'm wearing a Muppet shirt with messy hair and chocolate on my hands. 

It's just what I needed to completely crush my spirit. 

I'm a mess. And there's this whole world out there that is put together. 

These feelings have nothing to do with my Beloved's feelings towards me. 

These feelings have EVERYTHING to do with MY insecurities. My feelings of inadequacy. My self doubt. And it amazes me how easily those thoughts creep in and completely take over, even at 35 years old. Being a girl is dumb sometimes. 

Sometimes the "I'm a mom" job description is discouraging. It shouldn't be! And most days it isn't! But some days it is. Some days when I'm extremely self conscious, I miss my past life. I miss office drama. I miss shoot days. I miss being a part of something 'important'. I miss putting on real clothes and worrying about my appearance. 

I KNOW Alice is THE most important thing ever. My 'mom job' is the most rewarding, is the most important, is where I need to be. And my Beloved sees and appreciates everything I do. 

But sometimes I feel kind of small even when I know it's ALL in my head. 

I got home and called my sister who laughed in hysterics at my meltdown. Everyone should have someone who will laugh at their crazy. It helps! When I know in my heart I am being absolutely ridiculous but my head is dead-set on being irrational, it helps to have someone on the outside recognize it for what it is and hit the reset button. 

By the time my Beloved got home, I was mostly calmed down. When I mentioned the Red Headed Goddess, he said, "she had red hair?" And he meant it because his observation skills are sketchy. And even when my self doubt creeps in, he sees me first. I went on to say, "yes! She walked in, said 'Hi, I'm Ariel. Aahhhhhhahhhhhh! (like Ariel, the mermaid sings)". He said, "Okay, I KNOW she didn't sing!"

She didn't. But that's basically how I remember it. She walked in, her hair started magically blowing around her face like Beyonce, and she started singing. I swear! ;)

I've calmed down. I've settled. And now Ariel is being added to the Alien girlfriend and the Russian Bride. 

I'm thankful my Beloved loves me, messy hair, random hysterics, and all. 

Until next time.....

Welcome to 35

I turned 35 this past weekend. I thought about having a meltdown but I was so sick that I couldn't muster up the drama for an effective tantrum. I know, right. It was bad! Alice missed school the first week of April due to the plague (not really) and then proceeded to pass it to her parents because she's such a loving child and misery loves company. So last week I was absolutely miserable. I couldn't breathe through my nose at all no matter what I took and I still can't really taste anything. We had a wedding to go to on my birthday (the 16th) in Louisiana and I was still unsure by Thursday night if we were going. It was the worst birthday week ever. 

But we rallied and we went and it was fun! Before the wedding we toured the Tabasco factory on Avery Island. It was neat! I have a new found respect for the hot sauce. 

That night we attended my cousin's wedding. Alice was super cranky but we looked simply smashing!

Overall, it was a perfectly lovely birthday. It was no fuss, no pressure, and I discovered my cute new dress has pockets!!! Y'all!! It was like Christmas!! 

And I've thought a lot about being 35. 35 just seems so close to 40 and I cannot imagine 40. At all. There is NO WAY I can be close to 40 - I still don't know how to do my own makeup. But on the other hand, there are some things I do know:

1. I am much more committed to my own opinions and I am working on worrying less about meeting the approval of others. I'm grown. It's time.
2. I am not anywhere near where I thought I would be at 35 but I can't imagine being anywhere else. I am where I should be.
3. I can't blow my nose. It's just.....gross. Nope. 
4. I occasionally say 4-letter words. I didn't start this until much later in life, however breaking the habit has been challenging. 
5. I now have red lipstick! I'm not really sure how to apply it but I have it!! 
6. I will never be over my fear of roaches. Ever. And this is not a fear I have any desire to face or overcome. Period. 
7. I say "I'm sorry" a lot. Like, all the time. For everything. Lately Alice has started saying it too for reasons she has nothing to be sorry for. I do not want this for her. I have to adjust how I speak. 
8. I am 20 pounds lighter than I was last year. I am so very proud of us and how hard we are working to be healthier. 
9. I miss bread.
10. And buttered noodles.
11. I NEVER thought I would like gardening and yet our garden is just so neat! I cooked with basil out of our own garden last night. It was fun! 
12. If I don't want to do something, I just say 'no'. If it doesn't make my heart sing, I'm out. Ain't nobody got time for that. 
13. Friendships are easier now. We're grown and less worried about being better than the other one. Let's just talk and vent and reminisce and laugh. There is no need for added pressure.
14. I still call my mom every day. 
15. It doesn't matter how old I get, I want to see the magic Alice sees. I want her imagination to thrive and her sparkle to never dull. That is my ultimate goal.

And that's what I know for now. 

So I'm just going to pretend 35 is no different than 34 and I'll save the meltdown for next year.

Until then, this is 35.

Until next time......

Good, Better, Best

Some Good

After being completely deflated when the college discontinued the program I was in, I took the summer to hang with Alice. During that time I did some research and we looked around and concluded that there are still lots of jobs in Medical Transcription. So I started to look in to other options in regards to training. I found an online program through CareerStep that trained you not only on the transcription part, but also on the editing part. Most transcriptions are being done by computers now, however, someone has to edit what the machine gets wrong. At the end of the training, I will be trained in both. 

So I enrolled. It's all online and work at your own pace. I started in September when Alice went back to school and I am already halfway through. The first half was mostly review from the classes I had already taken. Now I've started the transcription part. It isn't too hard. It's just A LOT. I have a gazillion audio files to get through and I feel like I am making zero progress. I'm working on it while Alice is at school so I have not dedicated the amount of time I should be dedicating to it. (Like right now when I should be doing school but instead I'm blogging. I'm pretending it's warming up my fingers.) My goal is to find more time on the weekends to get through a few. I would LOVE to be finished by the summer. My goal date keeps getting pushed around as I better understand what work needs to be done. This goal date isn't any earlier than what it would be if I was continuing classes at the college so I'm trying to be okay with it. 

There is a light at the end of the tunnel - I just can't see it yet. Hopefully I'll see it soon. 

Feeling and Looking Better

We are still doing our diet/exercise program. I'm down 15lbs. I am elated. My Beloved is down more and looks fantastic. While at my check-in appointment with my new Hematologist, he noticed I had lost quite a bit of weight since my last visit. He asked what we were doing and what my goal weight was. I told him I don't really have a goal weight - I just don't want people asking when I'm due anymore. He has an app that figures what your target weight should be and I am apparently 5lbs away from being considered in the 'normal' weight range for my body. BOOYAA!!! I haven't weighed in at "normal" for years! He went on saying that it's a range - 155 could be the top, 140 was still considered normal so I could get down lower. I told him it didn't matter - "you had me at normal." 

We look better, we feel better, and we're dedicated to keeping up with it. Thanks to Pinterest, we have tried lots of diet recipes that have really been tasty! So that's helped. I still give Alice something else or at least the non-diet version of what we're having. She gets regular noodles and white rice, lucky kid. 

The Best Most Recent Example of How We are STILL Unqualified Parents

When Alice gets overly exhausted, it is almost impossible to get her to go to bed. She sobs for hours in protest. HOURS! On January 1st, she was so unbearable, we finally put her on a mat on our floor next to our bed. She finally went to sleep. The next day while my Beloved was picking the mat up Alice came in, looked at it with incredulity, and said, "wus that?" Dada replied, "it's where you slept last night." 

Alice - "nuh uh! I syeep in my own bed!"

Child.

This past Sunday, she had another bedtime meltdown. This time, Dada offered to lay on the floor next to her bed until she fell asleep. He does this occasionally when Alice is inconsolable. We have a pack-n-play mattress that slides out from under her baby bed and he lays down until she falls asleep and I wake him up to come to bed. Only Alice decided to lay on the floor with him. 

She FINALLY fell asleep on the floor. The last time we tried to move her from the floor to her bed and that was the wrong decision. Wrong, wrong, wrong. So we looked at her and said she could sleep on the floor.  

At almost 4am, I awake to her crying. I get up, switch the hall light on, open her door, and can't see her. I can hear her crying, "Momma, I stuck! My head!" only she is nowhere to be found. 

Somehow the child had managed to get under her baby bed. Lord, have mercy.

I call for Daniel and proceed to lift the bed. 

My poor groggy husband comes running around the corner to me lifting the baby bed and the groggy child emerging from under it. "What the heck?!" Yep - 'what the heck' about sums it up. 

We get her back to bed and everything settled. 

And the dog who was barking like a maniac last week because the wind blew - slept through his kid crying for help. Didn't even leave his bed when His Man jumped out of his. Stupid dog. 

So that's what's going on here. Maybe when I'm done transcribing my fingers off, I'll have more time to blog. We'll see!

Until next time......