Fair warning: This post may find me using words not fit for polite company.
I truly believe that anger will get you nowhere. Anger closes the door to a happy life. Anger makes it difficult to get along with others. I remind myself constantly that getting angry at the behavior of others doesn't accomplish a damn thing. It just ruins my day. And life is too short for that.
BLAH. BLAH. FUCKING BLAH.
Well, today, I'm angry. I'm pissed. I'm full of vexation, animosity, indignation, fury, ire, rage, and resentment. I'm going to throw either a cat fit or a hissy fit. Thank you, thesaurus.
I got up today prepared for the normal course of cleaning. By normal, I mean the usual things one does to keep a neat and orderly home. Some laundry, dusting, sprucing of the bathroom and kitchen, sweep and mop the floors.
Instead, I've found myself (once again) cleaning up the messes left behind by others who live in this house. Messes that I shouldn't have to fucking deal with. Food messes. Drink messes. Dishes where they don't belong. Clothing everywhere. Garbage here, there, and everywhere. And why is it so flipping hard to refill the damn ice trays?
I haven't even started on what I wanted to accomplish today, except to start the laundry. And even to do that, I had to fold numerous loads left by someone else because they needed something washed, but can't possibly be troubled to fold a damn thing. No, instead they shovel it into baskets, stomp it down into a tightly woven mess of sweatshirt arms, blue jeans legs, and socks. Which is, of course, the perfect cat bed and now should really be rewashed because it's full of hair. Tough shit, y'all, you're getting hairy clothes in your piles.
I'm pissed so my stress is up, adrenalin is flooding my system. My normal case of the shakes has turned into my own awkward version of the Harlem Shake. Which I fail to see the humor in, but that's another post entirely.
You know the phrase seeing red? That's me right now. I can't even stand my own level of anger right now, that's how bad it is. I want to throw things, break things, throttle the people that do this. But that would just make MORE of a mess to clean up.
I'm going to go clean and continue preaching to myself. Maybe after a good long lecture, I'll calm down. I will say, it's a damn good thing that no one else is home. I'd either be headed to jail or the mental ward.
Showing posts with label Stress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stress. Show all posts
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Friday, March 8, 2013
A serious post
This post has been rolling around in my head for awhile. Actually, not the post, but the information. I've been processing, researching, looking for others talking about it, etc. This is also sort of a coming out for me. I haven't talked about it to very many people.
About a month ago, I was diagnosed with a condition known as Essential Tremors. It used to be called Benign Essential Tremors, but they can be anything but benign. The tremors make it hard to drink, eat, write, apply make-up, even pluck your eyebrows. Anything that requires fine motor movement is affected.
Essential Tremor (ET) is a neurological condition with no known cause. And while the tremors may make many people think of Parkinson's Disease, they are two different beasts. There is also no definitive test to diagnose ET. Rather, it is diagnosed through a process of elimination. My neurologist gave me a thorough physical exam, testing strength from different angles of muscle use, which is also helpful in gauging the tremors themselves. She also tested my reflexes, at some points on my body that I didn't even know were reflex points. Turns out, I'm hyper reflexive. Hit one point, they all react and I can't begin to control it. And it is very likely related to the ET.
We also discussed family history, thoroughly. In my reaching out to everyone in the family, I discovered my aunt has tremors, though she didn't verify a medical diagnosis. I recall my grandmother shaking, though neither my mom or her sisters have any recollection of same. So is my condition familial (hereditary)? We're not sure. We determined that my thyroid is fine, as is some level of systemic inflammation measured though blood work. So she came to ET as a diagnosis. At this point, we're not going to do an MRI; she sees no reason to, based on my symptoms to date. But if symptoms change, I'll be signing up for that. As an aside, I tend toward claustrophobia. Yay.
So what are my symptoms? A whole lot of shaking, primarily in my hands/arms. Most people that noticed told me that, perhaps, just maybe, dear god woman! cut back on your caffeine. Yeah, I drank A LOT of coffee, and not that wimpy decaf stuff. After dumping my consumption to a mere one or two cups a day, and supplementing with decaf (because, damn it, I love the taste of my coffee) I was still shaking. Just as bad.
There are times I shake so much that writing is a challenge. Oh, I can write all day long, but reading it might be a bit of a challenge to others. I've learned to print more. There are times I shake so much that drinking is a challenge. I've learned to not fill my cup so full and hold it with my left hand, which shakes just a wee bit less than my right. There are times I shake so much that eating is a challenge. Peas or corn on a fork? Forget it. I've learned a spoon can be my friend. I do much better with foods I can stab with the fork.
But it goes beyond shaking. I also have muscle twitches. It might be my arms, my shoulders, my legs, a hip, a back muscle, a neck muscle. I liken it to an earthquake. The pressure builds up in there and suddenly lets loose. It might be a small twitch, or something much more powerful. I once threw my mouse across the room. I didn't have a good hold on it and my arm twitched. Rather forcefully.
I also have some sensations, for lack of a better word, deep in some of my larger muscles. Particularly my thighs. They, too, are part of the whole. The only way I've come up with to describe this sensation is to say my muscles are humming. Deep down inside, like bone-deep. This part of it comes and goes. I'm grateful when it disappears for awhile because it is beyond annoying. When I'm on my feet a lot, it makes my legs tired really fast. When I'm sitting or lying down, they hum constantly, like they're plugged into an outlet. It's sort of a pulsing, just like the shakes. They've now been humming for three straight days, 24/7. It.drives.me.nuts.
Recently, probably because I'm paying much closer attention to what my body is doing, I've noticed my speech patterns are different. I swear there are times that I stutter. Not like continuously, but just a hitch or two while saying a word. Or my tongue will tangle while I'm talking. Or I just can't find the word. It's annoying and this aspect really bothers me.
So did I just wake up one morning with the shakes wondering what the hell was wrong with me? No, it was very gradual. In my recent memory, covering a period of many years, I don't remember NOT shaking to some degree. I've tried to think back to milestone moments or particular times I remember well to determine if I had the shakes at that moment in time. I can't do it. But during the last year or two, it is measurably worse. And when I'm tired, it's worse. When I'm dealing with a lot of stress, it's worse. If I get carried away with caffeine, yep, you guessed it. It's worse.
What is the future going to be with ET? I have no idea. For some, it remains an annoyance that they live with. For many others, it progresses and gets worse. Much worse. It has the potential to be debilitating. Life-altering. I'm part of the group for whom a drink will calm the tremors, but only for a little while. It doesn't work for everyone. And, understandably, isn't recommended as a continual treatment. There are medications that help, but don't cure. The most accepted medication is a beta-blocker more commonly used to treat high blood pressure and heart disease. Sometimes, anti-anxiety meds are used. My aunt tried Xanax and didn't tolerate it well. It basically zoned her out. There is also a surgical procedure available for when it gets really bad and/or intolerable. It's a procedure known as deep brain stimulation. In short, a device is implanted in the brain that supplies an electrical current to the area of nerves responsible for the movements of affected areas. I'm not fond of the idea of a cattle prod being buried in my brain.
In part, I'm still processing all this. I've started more in-depth research. I'm searching for others to talk to. From what I can tell, there is no support group anywhere in the state of Idaho for this. I'd rather not medicate if I don't have to, so I'll start searching homeopathic methods of treatment. I've read that acupuncture can help; so maybe I'll look into that.
When I have a bad day, I try not to let it get me down. When others offer snarky remarks, I do my best to ignore it, or alternatively, stand up for myself. Depends on who and what. When someone is dismissive, I do my best to not take it personally. It's just one more facet of me that I may not like, but will have to learn to deal with.
Am I scared? Yes, deep down, I'm terrified. But I'm tough and I'm a survivor. Like so many other things in life, this will be dealt with one day at a time, in the best way I know how. Whatever that may be.
About a month ago, I was diagnosed with a condition known as Essential Tremors. It used to be called Benign Essential Tremors, but they can be anything but benign. The tremors make it hard to drink, eat, write, apply make-up, even pluck your eyebrows. Anything that requires fine motor movement is affected.
Essential Tremor (ET) is a neurological condition with no known cause. And while the tremors may make many people think of Parkinson's Disease, they are two different beasts. There is also no definitive test to diagnose ET. Rather, it is diagnosed through a process of elimination. My neurologist gave me a thorough physical exam, testing strength from different angles of muscle use, which is also helpful in gauging the tremors themselves. She also tested my reflexes, at some points on my body that I didn't even know were reflex points. Turns out, I'm hyper reflexive. Hit one point, they all react and I can't begin to control it. And it is very likely related to the ET.
We also discussed family history, thoroughly. In my reaching out to everyone in the family, I discovered my aunt has tremors, though she didn't verify a medical diagnosis. I recall my grandmother shaking, though neither my mom or her sisters have any recollection of same. So is my condition familial (hereditary)? We're not sure. We determined that my thyroid is fine, as is some level of systemic inflammation measured though blood work. So she came to ET as a diagnosis. At this point, we're not going to do an MRI; she sees no reason to, based on my symptoms to date. But if symptoms change, I'll be signing up for that. As an aside, I tend toward claustrophobia. Yay.
So what are my symptoms? A whole lot of shaking, primarily in my hands/arms. Most people that noticed told me that, perhaps, just maybe, dear god woman! cut back on your caffeine. Yeah, I drank A LOT of coffee, and not that wimpy decaf stuff. After dumping my consumption to a mere one or two cups a day, and supplementing with decaf (because, damn it, I love the taste of my coffee) I was still shaking. Just as bad.
There are times I shake so much that writing is a challenge. Oh, I can write all day long, but reading it might be a bit of a challenge to others. I've learned to print more. There are times I shake so much that drinking is a challenge. I've learned to not fill my cup so full and hold it with my left hand, which shakes just a wee bit less than my right. There are times I shake so much that eating is a challenge. Peas or corn on a fork? Forget it. I've learned a spoon can be my friend. I do much better with foods I can stab with the fork.
But it goes beyond shaking. I also have muscle twitches. It might be my arms, my shoulders, my legs, a hip, a back muscle, a neck muscle. I liken it to an earthquake. The pressure builds up in there and suddenly lets loose. It might be a small twitch, or something much more powerful. I once threw my mouse across the room. I didn't have a good hold on it and my arm twitched. Rather forcefully.
I also have some sensations, for lack of a better word, deep in some of my larger muscles. Particularly my thighs. They, too, are part of the whole. The only way I've come up with to describe this sensation is to say my muscles are humming. Deep down inside, like bone-deep. This part of it comes and goes. I'm grateful when it disappears for awhile because it is beyond annoying. When I'm on my feet a lot, it makes my legs tired really fast. When I'm sitting or lying down, they hum constantly, like they're plugged into an outlet. It's sort of a pulsing, just like the shakes. They've now been humming for three straight days, 24/7. It.drives.me.nuts.
Recently, probably because I'm paying much closer attention to what my body is doing, I've noticed my speech patterns are different. I swear there are times that I stutter. Not like continuously, but just a hitch or two while saying a word. Or my tongue will tangle while I'm talking. Or I just can't find the word. It's annoying and this aspect really bothers me.
So did I just wake up one morning with the shakes wondering what the hell was wrong with me? No, it was very gradual. In my recent memory, covering a period of many years, I don't remember NOT shaking to some degree. I've tried to think back to milestone moments or particular times I remember well to determine if I had the shakes at that moment in time. I can't do it. But during the last year or two, it is measurably worse. And when I'm tired, it's worse. When I'm dealing with a lot of stress, it's worse. If I get carried away with caffeine, yep, you guessed it. It's worse.
What is the future going to be with ET? I have no idea. For some, it remains an annoyance that they live with. For many others, it progresses and gets worse. Much worse. It has the potential to be debilitating. Life-altering. I'm part of the group for whom a drink will calm the tremors, but only for a little while. It doesn't work for everyone. And, understandably, isn't recommended as a continual treatment. There are medications that help, but don't cure. The most accepted medication is a beta-blocker more commonly used to treat high blood pressure and heart disease. Sometimes, anti-anxiety meds are used. My aunt tried Xanax and didn't tolerate it well. It basically zoned her out. There is also a surgical procedure available for when it gets really bad and/or intolerable. It's a procedure known as deep brain stimulation. In short, a device is implanted in the brain that supplies an electrical current to the area of nerves responsible for the movements of affected areas. I'm not fond of the idea of a cattle prod being buried in my brain.
In part, I'm still processing all this. I've started more in-depth research. I'm searching for others to talk to. From what I can tell, there is no support group anywhere in the state of Idaho for this. I'd rather not medicate if I don't have to, so I'll start searching homeopathic methods of treatment. I've read that acupuncture can help; so maybe I'll look into that.
When I have a bad day, I try not to let it get me down. When others offer snarky remarks, I do my best to ignore it, or alternatively, stand up for myself. Depends on who and what. When someone is dismissive, I do my best to not take it personally. It's just one more facet of me that I may not like, but will have to learn to deal with.
Am I scared? Yes, deep down, I'm terrified. But I'm tough and I'm a survivor. Like so many other things in life, this will be dealt with one day at a time, in the best way I know how. Whatever that may be.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
A bevy of frustrations...
The dog chewed a shoe. One shoe to the one pair that one son possesses.
The other dog opened the door and let all the cats out. While everyone in the house was asleep. The subsequent round-up was successful, however.
Communication between Mike and I seems to have devolved into a battle of "he said...she said".
Sigh.
The other dog opened the door and let all the cats out. While everyone in the house was asleep. The subsequent round-up was successful, however.
Communication between Mike and I seems to have devolved into a battle of "he said...she said".
Sigh.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Here's the thing...
I don't think the guilt is mine to bear. At least not 100%. Far less than that.
Ok, I've been remiss in getting a certain person signed up for an online defensive driving course. A course that will reduce total points by 6, making said person's driving record look better to prospective employers.
However...
I am not the one with a license full of tickets for bad driving habits. Habits that don't seem to change much, even though employers have said, "I can't hire you with your license like that."
Ok, I've been remiss in getting a certain person signed up for an online defensive driving course. A course that will reduce total points by 6, making said person's driving record look better to prospective employers.
However...
I am not the one with a license full of tickets for bad driving habits. Habits that don't seem to change much, even though employers have said, "I can't hire you with your license like that."
Saturday, October 24, 2009
What now...
Life has a way of getting away from me at times. Schedules get hectic, people need things. Lots of things to do and not enough time in a day.
But what about what we all need to keep ourselves healthy? What about attending to our own needs, so we are better prepared to tend to others?
What happens when the stress is just overwhelming?
I'm a compartmentalizer. Not even sure if that is a proper word, but it's what I am; it's what I do.
Right now, there's just too many things going on. I've got so many compartments in my head where I've stashed things. Well, my head probably resembles some of the homes featured on Hoarders. It's time to start cleaning up, thinking things through, getting organized, and trying to decide what to keep and what to toss.
Actually, I could probably benefit by seeing a good therapist. But I'll think about that another day.
I'm not even entirely sure where to start. Further, I have to be careful what details I talk about, because some of it is so intensely private, other family members wouldn't appreciate me divulging details.
Finances are one of the biggest stressers (stressors?) right now. Mike has been working, but on temporary, seasonal type jobs. Those are coming to an end. Staying current and providing basic necessities is a struggle we're barely keeping up with. Yes, it could be worse. It could be a lot worse, so I'm grateful he's found the temp stuff. But winter is coming. He did get an offer from a former employer, which is a blessing. But it's also a curse, as the former employer tends to be...honestly, the man can be a royal ass, and is difficult to work for. But it's work. Full time work, even through the winter. Honestly, Mike doesn't have a choice but to take this offer.
Mike's dad continues to battle cancer. It is taking a toll even though the man is a fighter. He's started a new type of treatment and we're all saying our prayers that it helps. Mike talks to his parents daily, and I think it's helping all of them. They've gotten a lot closer during all this.
But Mike also learned of some family information decades old, that pretty much turned his world upside down. He's working through it, but it's brought out anger, disbelief, mistrust, despair, and a bevy of hurt feelings. It's spilled out over all of us, because we are a tight unit.
My side of the family isn't with its travails, either. I have a brother who recently separated with his wife, and a divorce is looming. She's moved out, the kids are going back and forth. The reasons behind the separation are difficult to grasp, harder to understand, and impossible to forget. I hate seeing my brother in pain, trying to find how to deal with his new reality, maintaining some sense of normal for their kids. And the kids don't understand. They're too young. They're too innocent. My heart breaks for the kids.
Another brother's actions are the latest cause of stress. It's not even stress. It's something far worse, that I haven't found words for. No one in the family has seen or heard from him in over a year. Many of us have been fearful of his return, as he's threatened all of us. Now he's back, having done something so horrendous it has shaken the entire family right down to the bedrock of our foundation. The road ahead is long and will be full of pain. Yet it will also bring about a sense of relief that we've all needed for way too long.
There has been so much turmoil, I've made a point of trying to find a positive aspect to each and every day. Some days, it's as simple as being thankful for a hot cup off coffee. I'm so thankful for the friends and family willing to listen. I'm eternally grateful for all their shoulders, as they've caught many of my tears. And were it not for modern medicine, I just might have fallen off the edge of reason.
I cling to the knowledge that all this will pass. Pain will lessen. Hurt will fade. Solutions will be found. And normal will return. But normal will be different. Normal will put us in a vast minority here, and in the unfortunate majority there.
But what about what we all need to keep ourselves healthy? What about attending to our own needs, so we are better prepared to tend to others?
What happens when the stress is just overwhelming?
I'm a compartmentalizer. Not even sure if that is a proper word, but it's what I am; it's what I do.
Right now, there's just too many things going on. I've got so many compartments in my head where I've stashed things. Well, my head probably resembles some of the homes featured on Hoarders. It's time to start cleaning up, thinking things through, getting organized, and trying to decide what to keep and what to toss.
Actually, I could probably benefit by seeing a good therapist. But I'll think about that another day.
I'm not even entirely sure where to start. Further, I have to be careful what details I talk about, because some of it is so intensely private, other family members wouldn't appreciate me divulging details.
Finances are one of the biggest stressers (stressors?) right now. Mike has been working, but on temporary, seasonal type jobs. Those are coming to an end. Staying current and providing basic necessities is a struggle we're barely keeping up with. Yes, it could be worse. It could be a lot worse, so I'm grateful he's found the temp stuff. But winter is coming. He did get an offer from a former employer, which is a blessing. But it's also a curse, as the former employer tends to be...honestly, the man can be a royal ass, and is difficult to work for. But it's work. Full time work, even through the winter. Honestly, Mike doesn't have a choice but to take this offer.
Mike's dad continues to battle cancer. It is taking a toll even though the man is a fighter. He's started a new type of treatment and we're all saying our prayers that it helps. Mike talks to his parents daily, and I think it's helping all of them. They've gotten a lot closer during all this.
But Mike also learned of some family information decades old, that pretty much turned his world upside down. He's working through it, but it's brought out anger, disbelief, mistrust, despair, and a bevy of hurt feelings. It's spilled out over all of us, because we are a tight unit.
My side of the family isn't with its travails, either. I have a brother who recently separated with his wife, and a divorce is looming. She's moved out, the kids are going back and forth. The reasons behind the separation are difficult to grasp, harder to understand, and impossible to forget. I hate seeing my brother in pain, trying to find how to deal with his new reality, maintaining some sense of normal for their kids. And the kids don't understand. They're too young. They're too innocent. My heart breaks for the kids.
Another brother's actions are the latest cause of stress. It's not even stress. It's something far worse, that I haven't found words for. No one in the family has seen or heard from him in over a year. Many of us have been fearful of his return, as he's threatened all of us. Now he's back, having done something so horrendous it has shaken the entire family right down to the bedrock of our foundation. The road ahead is long and will be full of pain. Yet it will also bring about a sense of relief that we've all needed for way too long.
There has been so much turmoil, I've made a point of trying to find a positive aspect to each and every day. Some days, it's as simple as being thankful for a hot cup off coffee. I'm so thankful for the friends and family willing to listen. I'm eternally grateful for all their shoulders, as they've caught many of my tears. And were it not for modern medicine, I just might have fallen off the edge of reason.
I cling to the knowledge that all this will pass. Pain will lessen. Hurt will fade. Solutions will be found. And normal will return. But normal will be different. Normal will put us in a vast minority here, and in the unfortunate majority there.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Jinxed
Did I really say that my stress level was retreating? I should have known better. That simple statement immediately jinxed my day.
Yesterday included a milestone moment. One that every parent knows will arrive, yet no parent wants to experience.
Devan had his first car accident. And it was a doozy.
He and a friend were on their way back to work after lunch. In fact, I looked out the kitchen window right at the moment they both drove past the house, heading south, one right after the other.
Five minutes later, my phone rang, "Mom, please come and get me. Mike hit me." I can't describe the tone and feeling in his voice, or my immediate, and absolutely visceral reaction to hearing it. If more than two minutes elapsed between the time I got the call and hit the road, I'd be surprised.
The adrenaline kicked in before I was 1/4 mile away from the house. On a 35 mph road, I was flying at 65, flashers going, hands clenched on the wheel. When I arrived on the scene and jumped out, my knees nearly buckled.
I saw Mike's pickup from about 1/4 miles away; the front passenger corner mashed and crinkled, the tire at an obviously undrivable angle. As I got closer, I saw Devan's pickup. Sitting out in the field, everything on the driver's side from the back jump seat to the bumper pushed in and mangled. The driver's door was completely pushed in, frame warped, window gone. A trail of debris from the corner to the stopping point, probably some 150 feet.
A mom doesn't like to see such things.
His friend had a passenger, and Devan was driving solo. All three boys were walking around. Devan had a few cuts on his face, and the blood was already clotted and drying. The friend who was driving was shaking like a leaf, but bore no visible blood. His passenger didn't have any visible blood either, but was confused, unsure of where he was or what had transpired. I sat him down in the ditch next to my truck and called 911.
With the renewed surge of adrenaline running through my system, it took me a few extra seconds to figure out which intersection we were at. The 911 dispatcher had me running from vehicle to vehicle looking for leaking fluids. Finally, she informed me that sheriff's deputies and an ambulance were on the way. About that time, the friend's dad pulled up, so at least I had help keeping the boys calmed down.
The passenger was trying to talk to his mom on his cell, but wasn't getting anywhere because of the confusion. I asked him for his phone and talked to her. She was remarkable calm considering she was talking to a stranger, had talked to her son who couldn't remember anything, and had no idea where we were.
It must have taken a good 15 minutes for authorities to arrive, with paramedics right behind them. They checked out all the kids and loaded the passenger up for a trip to the hospital. They were certain he had a concussion, but weren't sure of the severity.
Devan's cuts and scrapes were from all the flying glass when his window shattered. Back home, while showering off the glass and blood, he found an impressive goose egg on his head. That explains the shattered side window.
All in all, the boys were extremely lucky. They were likely driving too fast and both earned tickets; Devan for failure to signal a turn and the other boy for following too close. The officer was extremely nice, more than fair, and even gave the boys a quick lecture about taking care.
Both pickups are likely totaled. I know Devan's is. Needless to say, in a match between a Ranger (Devan's) and a full-sized F150, the F150 won.
We haven't been able to get a complete report yet on how the other boy checked out at the ER. I'm going to place a call to the friend's parents this morning and try to find out.
Meanwhile, the fun will really start tomorrow when the insurance process starts.
I'm just thankful that everyone is ok and they weren't seriously hurt. Thinking back to the scene, it could have been much worse. There were three guardian angels putting in overtime yesterday.
Yesterday included a milestone moment. One that every parent knows will arrive, yet no parent wants to experience.
Devan had his first car accident. And it was a doozy.
He and a friend were on their way back to work after lunch. In fact, I looked out the kitchen window right at the moment they both drove past the house, heading south, one right after the other.
Five minutes later, my phone rang, "Mom, please come and get me. Mike hit me." I can't describe the tone and feeling in his voice, or my immediate, and absolutely visceral reaction to hearing it. If more than two minutes elapsed between the time I got the call and hit the road, I'd be surprised.
The adrenaline kicked in before I was 1/4 mile away from the house. On a 35 mph road, I was flying at 65, flashers going, hands clenched on the wheel. When I arrived on the scene and jumped out, my knees nearly buckled.
I saw Mike's pickup from about 1/4 miles away; the front passenger corner mashed and crinkled, the tire at an obviously undrivable angle. As I got closer, I saw Devan's pickup. Sitting out in the field, everything on the driver's side from the back jump seat to the bumper pushed in and mangled. The driver's door was completely pushed in, frame warped, window gone. A trail of debris from the corner to the stopping point, probably some 150 feet.
A mom doesn't like to see such things.
His friend had a passenger, and Devan was driving solo. All three boys were walking around. Devan had a few cuts on his face, and the blood was already clotted and drying. The friend who was driving was shaking like a leaf, but bore no visible blood. His passenger didn't have any visible blood either, but was confused, unsure of where he was or what had transpired. I sat him down in the ditch next to my truck and called 911.
With the renewed surge of adrenaline running through my system, it took me a few extra seconds to figure out which intersection we were at. The 911 dispatcher had me running from vehicle to vehicle looking for leaking fluids. Finally, she informed me that sheriff's deputies and an ambulance were on the way. About that time, the friend's dad pulled up, so at least I had help keeping the boys calmed down.
The passenger was trying to talk to his mom on his cell, but wasn't getting anywhere because of the confusion. I asked him for his phone and talked to her. She was remarkable calm considering she was talking to a stranger, had talked to her son who couldn't remember anything, and had no idea where we were.
It must have taken a good 15 minutes for authorities to arrive, with paramedics right behind them. They checked out all the kids and loaded the passenger up for a trip to the hospital. They were certain he had a concussion, but weren't sure of the severity.
Devan's cuts and scrapes were from all the flying glass when his window shattered. Back home, while showering off the glass and blood, he found an impressive goose egg on his head. That explains the shattered side window.
All in all, the boys were extremely lucky. They were likely driving too fast and both earned tickets; Devan for failure to signal a turn and the other boy for following too close. The officer was extremely nice, more than fair, and even gave the boys a quick lecture about taking care.
Both pickups are likely totaled. I know Devan's is. Needless to say, in a match between a Ranger (Devan's) and a full-sized F150, the F150 won.
We haven't been able to get a complete report yet on how the other boy checked out at the ER. I'm going to place a call to the friend's parents this morning and try to find out.
Meanwhile, the fun will really start tomorrow when the insurance process starts.
I'm just thankful that everyone is ok and they weren't seriously hurt. Thinking back to the scene, it could have been much worse. There were three guardian angels putting in overtime yesterday.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Stress reduction plan
My stress level has dropped so much, I'm nearly in a coma.
I'm finally done with school! Final GPA is a 2.95; not great, but perfectly acceptable. I still have to do my diploma application and order my cap and gown. I decided to walk the graduation ceremony in Boise, after a lot of internal debate. I just couldn't decide while I was still going through classes, but after about a week of no school work, the decision was easy.
Mike has been home for about a month, which reduces my stress even further. I'm now free to say "Go ask your Dad." to every question put to me. He heads back to AL on Easter Sunday, and is scheduled to be gone for five weeks. We don't know if the job will last that much longer, but the hope is there. But if he comes back home, he's got a job waiting with a friend of his. More stress gone!
After the defeat of watching his pickup burn in the driveway months ago, he found a replacement. It's another Duramax, now named Maxine. She's a fancy one, she is. Complete with DVD player and game hookups - a definite plus from the kids' point of view. I haven't driven her too much, but the 13th will be here quickly.
He also bought a chainsaw while he's been home, and we've started putting up wood for the next heating season. We still need to get the stove put in, which means getting the washer and dryer installed in the basement, but those are great summer projects. He's pretty sure he's going to have the chimney professionally installed so we have someone else to call if it should leak.
I had the dog fixed about a month ago. It's amazing what the lack of balls does for settling them down. He's still an excitable idiot, but a less excitable idiot.
There are a lot of other little things I should've written about; cute or funny little things that are now lost forever. Things the boys did that I would love to be able to look back on, but now cannot. But with more time on my hands, maybe I'll get better about jotting those things down.
In the meantime, I'm trying to figure out how to live life without the perpetual stack of books, homework, and papers to be written.
There might even be a garden in my future this summer!
I'm finally done with school! Final GPA is a 2.95; not great, but perfectly acceptable. I still have to do my diploma application and order my cap and gown. I decided to walk the graduation ceremony in Boise, after a lot of internal debate. I just couldn't decide while I was still going through classes, but after about a week of no school work, the decision was easy.
Mike has been home for about a month, which reduces my stress even further. I'm now free to say "Go ask your Dad." to every question put to me. He heads back to AL on Easter Sunday, and is scheduled to be gone for five weeks. We don't know if the job will last that much longer, but the hope is there. But if he comes back home, he's got a job waiting with a friend of his. More stress gone!
After the defeat of watching his pickup burn in the driveway months ago, he found a replacement. It's another Duramax, now named Maxine. She's a fancy one, she is. Complete with DVD player and game hookups - a definite plus from the kids' point of view. I haven't driven her too much, but the 13th will be here quickly.
He also bought a chainsaw while he's been home, and we've started putting up wood for the next heating season. We still need to get the stove put in, which means getting the washer and dryer installed in the basement, but those are great summer projects. He's pretty sure he's going to have the chimney professionally installed so we have someone else to call if it should leak.
I had the dog fixed about a month ago. It's amazing what the lack of balls does for settling them down. He's still an excitable idiot, but a less excitable idiot.
There are a lot of other little things I should've written about; cute or funny little things that are now lost forever. Things the boys did that I would love to be able to look back on, but now cannot. But with more time on my hands, maybe I'll get better about jotting those things down.
In the meantime, I'm trying to figure out how to live life without the perpetual stack of books, homework, and papers to be written.
There might even be a garden in my future this summer!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
UNCLE!
Dammit, did you hear me?? I said UUUNCLE!
I have so had enough.
They say the good Lord doesn't give you any more than you can handle. Can I sit the next round out? I'm getting real tired of handling.
I'm not a whiner by nature. Really. And once I get past the initial stress, I do pretty well dealing with things as they come up. Though I do owe some - ok, many - thanks to Celexa.
I've already talked about my father-in-law who is battling cancer. Part is untreatable, part is treatable. He's doing really good, for now. I haven't heard what the outcome was of the 6 bladder treatments is. Come to think of it, I don't think they'll know until next month.
After we got back from visiting the in-laws in December, Mike found out the boss had laid off everyone during that week. After giving a multitude of promises that things were fine, they had plenty of work, yada, yada, yada. Just let me blow some smoke up your asses boys so I can feel good about myself.
So Mike, by the grace of God, does find another job. But it's out of town. Right now it's in Alabama. He works 3-4 weeks straight, then comes home for a week. He's home this week.
He came home to 2 vehicles that needed maintenance. While doing routine maintenance on his, it blew a brake line. Just after one of the boys had driven it. Scared him senseless. He finished the maintenance and fixed the brake line and moved it out of the garage last night so he could put mine in. Mine is also having braking issues.
Back up just a couple days. Devan's wrestling coach told him he needed to see a doctor about a mat burn on his ear. It didn't look quite right. Mike takes him in early Monday morning. The doctor doesn't want to open it up to get a sample for a culture because that will just be another exposure to infection. But...it looks like a full-blown staph infection. As I read his notes on our copy of the paperwork, way down in the bottom amidst the other scribbles is one that stands out...MSRA??? You've got to be shitting me. That would be the one that keeps putting kids in the hospital, on IV antibiotic drips, parents holding vigil, and some of them die. That MRSA. He's on some high-powered antibiotics and is supposed to go back for reevaluation on Saturday or Sunday.
And today is the topper. Mike calls me at work. I hadn't even been there an hour. "Hon, I need you to call the insurance office. My pickup is burning in the driveway." WTF??? I was up and grabbing my shit, yelling down the hall for my building mate to call my boss, and out the door in about 10 seconds flat. I had to get through the roadblock down the street by screaming at the cop that the fire was at MY HOUSE DAMMIT! By the time I got home, the flames were out and it was a hissing, smoldering mess. There's foam all over the truck, all over the driveway, all over our 2 storage buildings. There's a gazillion volunteer firemen in my yard, and I arrived just in time to see Mike wing his keys into the air. The hat went next.
He has never had a truck this nice. Ever. It was a 2002 GMC HD 2500 Duramax Diesel. Fully loaded except for the automatic ass wiper. This thing had more bells and whistles than a carnival. We agonized over buying it. Dumped all our savings into the down payment. Scrimped to make payments during the winter. Cursed when it needed tires last year. Praised it for hauling everything and anything. It was our Max. It is now a hunk of charred metal, melted plastic, sizzled wires, on $1000 worth of brand new tires that still hold air. The firefighter we talked to said it looked like the block heater had a malfunction. A malfunction. Really? Generally, a malfunction doesn't put me in the mind of TOTAL FUCKING LOSS.
The insurance adjuster has been here. Even though it only burned from the windshield forward, it is a total loss. That diesel motor is worth a lot to replace. And the transmission. Don't forget the front transfer case. All the electronics and computer. Two fenders. One hood. And plastic. Who knew there was that much plastic on the front end?
Mike had to run down to the insurance office to sign some power-of-attorney paperwork. Since we are both on the title, his signature will be needed for all the final paperwork. He's leaving for Alabama on Sunday and won't be here to sign anything for who knows how long. This way, the adjuster can sign in his absence and I will provide the other necessary signature. Dealing with insurance is never good. Never.
I'm so ready for a boring few months. No major upheavals. No medical emergencies. No calls to emergency services. Just a boring life of TV, meatloaf, and playing couch potato.
Is that too much to ask?
I have so had enough.
They say the good Lord doesn't give you any more than you can handle. Can I sit the next round out? I'm getting real tired of handling.
I'm not a whiner by nature. Really. And once I get past the initial stress, I do pretty well dealing with things as they come up. Though I do owe some - ok, many - thanks to Celexa.
I've already talked about my father-in-law who is battling cancer. Part is untreatable, part is treatable. He's doing really good, for now. I haven't heard what the outcome was of the 6 bladder treatments is. Come to think of it, I don't think they'll know until next month.
After we got back from visiting the in-laws in December, Mike found out the boss had laid off everyone during that week. After giving a multitude of promises that things were fine, they had plenty of work, yada, yada, yada. Just let me blow some smoke up your asses boys so I can feel good about myself.
So Mike, by the grace of God, does find another job. But it's out of town. Right now it's in Alabama. He works 3-4 weeks straight, then comes home for a week. He's home this week.
He came home to 2 vehicles that needed maintenance. While doing routine maintenance on his, it blew a brake line. Just after one of the boys had driven it. Scared him senseless. He finished the maintenance and fixed the brake line and moved it out of the garage last night so he could put mine in. Mine is also having braking issues.
Back up just a couple days. Devan's wrestling coach told him he needed to see a doctor about a mat burn on his ear. It didn't look quite right. Mike takes him in early Monday morning. The doctor doesn't want to open it up to get a sample for a culture because that will just be another exposure to infection. But...it looks like a full-blown staph infection. As I read his notes on our copy of the paperwork, way down in the bottom amidst the other scribbles is one that stands out...MSRA??? You've got to be shitting me. That would be the one that keeps putting kids in the hospital, on IV antibiotic drips, parents holding vigil, and some of them die. That MRSA. He's on some high-powered antibiotics and is supposed to go back for reevaluation on Saturday or Sunday.
And today is the topper. Mike calls me at work. I hadn't even been there an hour. "Hon, I need you to call the insurance office. My pickup is burning in the driveway." WTF??? I was up and grabbing my shit, yelling down the hall for my building mate to call my boss, and out the door in about 10 seconds flat. I had to get through the roadblock down the street by screaming at the cop that the fire was at MY HOUSE DAMMIT! By the time I got home, the flames were out and it was a hissing, smoldering mess. There's foam all over the truck, all over the driveway, all over our 2 storage buildings. There's a gazillion volunteer firemen in my yard, and I arrived just in time to see Mike wing his keys into the air. The hat went next.
He has never had a truck this nice. Ever. It was a 2002 GMC HD 2500 Duramax Diesel. Fully loaded except for the automatic ass wiper. This thing had more bells and whistles than a carnival. We agonized over buying it. Dumped all our savings into the down payment. Scrimped to make payments during the winter. Cursed when it needed tires last year. Praised it for hauling everything and anything. It was our Max. It is now a hunk of charred metal, melted plastic, sizzled wires, on $1000 worth of brand new tires that still hold air. The firefighter we talked to said it looked like the block heater had a malfunction. A malfunction. Really? Generally, a malfunction doesn't put me in the mind of TOTAL FUCKING LOSS.
The insurance adjuster has been here. Even though it only burned from the windshield forward, it is a total loss. That diesel motor is worth a lot to replace. And the transmission. Don't forget the front transfer case. All the electronics and computer. Two fenders. One hood. And plastic. Who knew there was that much plastic on the front end?
Mike had to run down to the insurance office to sign some power-of-attorney paperwork. Since we are both on the title, his signature will be needed for all the final paperwork. He's leaving for Alabama on Sunday and won't be here to sign anything for who knows how long. This way, the adjuster can sign in his absence and I will provide the other necessary signature. Dealing with insurance is never good. Never.
I'm so ready for a boring few months. No major upheavals. No medical emergencies. No calls to emergency services. Just a boring life of TV, meatloaf, and playing couch potato.
Is that too much to ask?
Monday, November 17, 2008
Sheesh, where have I been??
It's been so long, I don't remember what all has happened.
For today, I've had enough.
Trying to plan a family trip to South Carolina to visit the in-laws. My father-in-law has cancer that is not responding favorably to treatment. It's in his bladder. They want to operate to remove the bladder, but can't. All the meds he's been taking have messed up his heart rhythm, and until that straightens out, he remains on the treatment that is offering no cure. They are down, depressed, and need some cheering. My brother-in-law thinks a visit from us would go a long way toward cheering them up and is working the OT to put us on a plane.
I'm awed by his thoughtfulness and generosity. Simply awed.
God knows we are stone cold broke and can't afford to fly out on our own. Someday, we'll be able to return the generosity...someday.
And I just found out today that my brother hasn't been seen or heard from since last Thursday. My paranoid schizophrenic brother. His history with this is long and I won't get into it here. However, the last time he went off meds, the paranoia and delusions set in like flies. He ended up nearly homicidal and certainly suicidal. He's had run-ins with two family members in the last month that weren't pretty. Now no one knows where he is, if he's ok, or what his state of mind is.
Right now, I just want to crawl in bed and sleep for a couple days.
For today, I've had enough.
Trying to plan a family trip to South Carolina to visit the in-laws. My father-in-law has cancer that is not responding favorably to treatment. It's in his bladder. They want to operate to remove the bladder, but can't. All the meds he's been taking have messed up his heart rhythm, and until that straightens out, he remains on the treatment that is offering no cure. They are down, depressed, and need some cheering. My brother-in-law thinks a visit from us would go a long way toward cheering them up and is working the OT to put us on a plane.
I'm awed by his thoughtfulness and generosity. Simply awed.
God knows we are stone cold broke and can't afford to fly out on our own. Someday, we'll be able to return the generosity...someday.
And I just found out today that my brother hasn't been seen or heard from since last Thursday. My paranoid schizophrenic brother. His history with this is long and I won't get into it here. However, the last time he went off meds, the paranoia and delusions set in like flies. He ended up nearly homicidal and certainly suicidal. He's had run-ins with two family members in the last month that weren't pretty. Now no one knows where he is, if he's ok, or what his state of mind is.
Right now, I just want to crawl in bed and sleep for a couple days.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Doctor's report
I'm going to live after all.
All my test results are back. Blood sugar - fine. Thyroid - fine. Liver - fine. Kidneys - fine. Blood count - fine. Cholesterol - fine. So the diagnosis right now is "the patient has a history of anxiety and depression, coupled with a large amount of immediate stressors."
I'm now on a little happy pill for anxiety, and it seems to be making a difference. There are still things I worry about, but they don't take on world-ending proportions like they did a few weeks ago.
I'm also making a point to sleep when tired, and that hasn't been a problem with my schedule lately. Simply put, most days I'm exhausted. She gave me something to help me sleep, but I've only had to use it once.
Now if Mike and I could just get on track, life would be just about perfect.
All my test results are back. Blood sugar - fine. Thyroid - fine. Liver - fine. Kidneys - fine. Blood count - fine. Cholesterol - fine. So the diagnosis right now is "the patient has a history of anxiety and depression, coupled with a large amount of immediate stressors."
I'm now on a little happy pill for anxiety, and it seems to be making a difference. There are still things I worry about, but they don't take on world-ending proportions like they did a few weeks ago.
I'm also making a point to sleep when tired, and that hasn't been a problem with my schedule lately. Simply put, most days I'm exhausted. She gave me something to help me sleep, but I've only had to use it once.
Now if Mike and I could just get on track, life would be just about perfect.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Stress is taking its' toll
Stress. It sucks. It literally sucks life out of you. It does things to your mind and body you'd rather skip. After awhile, it rules your life. Right now, it's running my life.
It's reached the point that I stress over everything - big and small. Do I enjoy worrying about everything? HELL NO! Here's what chronic worry and anxiety get me:
Wow. Not a pretty list when put down in black and white.
It's hard to get others to understand. For those who deal with stress differently, it's hard to explain why I just can't "Put it aside and stop worrying". It makes me angry to hear someone say, "Well, I don't know why you would worry about that. It's not important."
Stress is having the worst impact on my relationship with Mike. He's a worrier - and had the bleeding ulcer to attest to his habit. But even he doesn't get it. He worries the big things. The little things don't really impact him. I, on the other hand, deal fairly well with the big things. It's the little things that pile up, grow exponentially, and cause the worst damage.
If the laundry is piled as high as Everest, I stress about getting it all done. If the boys don't get their chores done, I blow up. If they leave a mess behind, I rant and rave. If the phone rings too much at work, I want to throw it out the window.
Now that I'm digging around my own head, I guess I see the big things impact me too. Mike has been working in Oregon for most of the last 4 months. It's hard being here alone, or as the only parent/adult. The day-to-day grind is overwhelming at times. Especially with kids at the age known for constantly testing the limits. Throw in working full-time, going to school full-time, health issues/concerns and I'm a mess. If I only had a couple more hours in every day. But then I'd just have more time to fret and stew.
Back in October, Mike was involved in a fender bender. The accident itself wasn't that bad. In the setting sun, he missed a stop sign and hit another car, right where the door and front fender meet. Had some front-end damage to his pickup and insurance deemed the other car totaled since it was old...really old. Well, old enough to not really be worth anything. The other guy refused medical treatment on-scene, and signed for the paramedics to leave. Now, he's retained a lawyer and claims he has more than $25,000 in medical bills. Huh? The letter from our insurance carrier on that little gem made my stomach twist into knots unknown to the most proficient boy scout.
The lack of sex is the elephant in the corner. It's there, but we're damned unable to talk about it reasonably without arguing, or causing hurt, anger, and disappointment. It's killing both of us. Slowly.
If sex, or the lack thereof, is the elephant in the corner, my schooling is the hippo? Cow? Some other big, yet fairly quiet animal. It takes a lot of my time and energy. It cuts into family time. It's the cause of some significant passive-aggressive tendencies and comments in our personal relationship. It's hailed as a good thing, a positive direction to take for our financial future, but there's a lot of underlying hostility surrounding the time I devote to that rather than personal relationships.
Money is tight and expenses are rising. Same sad story for a great portion of the population right now. We need to do a couple major projects before winter and finding a way to pay for them is worrying. Apparently we aren't the only ones trying to find alternative heating arrangements, because a good used wood stove is impossible to find. We're resigned now to the probability of having to buy a new one.
All Mike's medical bills from December (the bleeding ulcer incident) are now finalized and we've made arrangements on them. To the tune of nearly $400 a month. Those checks hurt, in a major way.
Devan has his driving permit. There are days my nerves just can't handle it. On top of that, he took a bad bounce off a friend's trampoline the other day and nearly broke his wrist. Actually, we still haven't received word if there's a break or not. We had it looked at yesterday and the PA didn't see anything obvious on the x-rays, but the radiologist still needs to review. We'll find out on Monday.
Mike's Dad is dealing with some significant health issues right now. And we're 3000 miles away. Mike talks to his folks daily, getting just enough information to spark worry, without getting any real answers. I know his Mom's motivations are good; she doesn't want him to worry because of his ulcer. But all the unanswered questions and partial snippets of information are often harder to deal with than knowing the full story.
My Grandmother is now deep in the clutches of Alzheimer's. In her mind, she's living, once again, on the old homestead of her youth. She's getting worse. On a daily basis.
My other Grandmother is showing significant signs of dementia. Not the same as Alzheimer's, but equally as hard to deal with. They are having a family meeting next weekend to discuss putting her into a facility.
A dear friend is going through a very tough family issue (and issue is far from the right term to describe this) right now, and there's nothing I can do for her or her family, other than be available over the miles to listen. I know she needs support and friendship right now, and I'm 2500 miles away.
My Mom and her SO were here for a visit earlier in the month. They brought the 5th-wheel, despite the high gas prices, so everyone could have space. We have a guest room of sorts, but that many people in the house 24/7 is a little close at times. My brother and SIL did take care of the grocery shopping for me (all meals are prepared and served at my house since I have a kitchen big enough to manage the crowd), which was really a blessing. However, my SIL did precious little to help with meals and clean-up. I'm talking show up maybe 30 minutes before meal time, kids in tow, maybe stir a pot if asked, eat the meal, then retire to the other room or outside. It's like she was oblivious to the time and energy it takes to cook a full sit-down meal for 10 and then clean up afterwards. Thankfully, my Mom is awesome about jumping in on prep work, and clean-up, too. And the boys jumped right in on dishes with nary an argument. They knew I was stressed. And here it is 3 weeks after the fact, and I'm still bugged by it.
OK, so maybe the big things are a little bigger than I realized. I try not to chew on them continuously, but they are always in the back of my mind. Always. So the little stuff that comes up daily rides on top of all that. And some days, it just feels like the boat is ready to sink. Some days the weight is just so much.
I don't remember what it is to be stress-free. To not be tense. And not just mentally tense, but physically. My entire body is always poised and ready to react.
This entry is way longer than I figured it would be. Maybe I should write more often and get things out in small doses rather than producing a novella.
I just want to be able to relax.
It's reached the point that I stress over everything - big and small. Do I enjoy worrying about everything? HELL NO! Here's what chronic worry and anxiety get me:
- headaches
- digestive issues
- upset stomach
- symptoms of an ulcer
- skin problems
- profuse sweating
- blood sugar issues
- insomnia
- chronic fatigue
- panic attacks
- complete lack of sexual desire
- heightened PMS symptoms
- moodiness
- lethargy
- relationship issues
- anger
- helplessness
Wow. Not a pretty list when put down in black and white.
It's hard to get others to understand. For those who deal with stress differently, it's hard to explain why I just can't "Put it aside and stop worrying". It makes me angry to hear someone say, "Well, I don't know why you would worry about that. It's not important."
Stress is having the worst impact on my relationship with Mike. He's a worrier - and had the bleeding ulcer to attest to his habit. But even he doesn't get it. He worries the big things. The little things don't really impact him. I, on the other hand, deal fairly well with the big things. It's the little things that pile up, grow exponentially, and cause the worst damage.
If the laundry is piled as high as Everest, I stress about getting it all done. If the boys don't get their chores done, I blow up. If they leave a mess behind, I rant and rave. If the phone rings too much at work, I want to throw it out the window.
Now that I'm digging around my own head, I guess I see the big things impact me too. Mike has been working in Oregon for most of the last 4 months. It's hard being here alone, or as the only parent/adult. The day-to-day grind is overwhelming at times. Especially with kids at the age known for constantly testing the limits. Throw in working full-time, going to school full-time, health issues/concerns and I'm a mess. If I only had a couple more hours in every day. But then I'd just have more time to fret and stew.
Back in October, Mike was involved in a fender bender. The accident itself wasn't that bad. In the setting sun, he missed a stop sign and hit another car, right where the door and front fender meet. Had some front-end damage to his pickup and insurance deemed the other car totaled since it was old...really old. Well, old enough to not really be worth anything. The other guy refused medical treatment on-scene, and signed for the paramedics to leave. Now, he's retained a lawyer and claims he has more than $25,000 in medical bills. Huh? The letter from our insurance carrier on that little gem made my stomach twist into knots unknown to the most proficient boy scout.
The lack of sex is the elephant in the corner. It's there, but we're damned unable to talk about it reasonably without arguing, or causing hurt, anger, and disappointment. It's killing both of us. Slowly.
If sex, or the lack thereof, is the elephant in the corner, my schooling is the hippo? Cow? Some other big, yet fairly quiet animal. It takes a lot of my time and energy. It cuts into family time. It's the cause of some significant passive-aggressive tendencies and comments in our personal relationship. It's hailed as a good thing, a positive direction to take for our financial future, but there's a lot of underlying hostility surrounding the time I devote to that rather than personal relationships.
Money is tight and expenses are rising. Same sad story for a great portion of the population right now. We need to do a couple major projects before winter and finding a way to pay for them is worrying. Apparently we aren't the only ones trying to find alternative heating arrangements, because a good used wood stove is impossible to find. We're resigned now to the probability of having to buy a new one.
All Mike's medical bills from December (the bleeding ulcer incident) are now finalized and we've made arrangements on them. To the tune of nearly $400 a month. Those checks hurt, in a major way.
Devan has his driving permit. There are days my nerves just can't handle it. On top of that, he took a bad bounce off a friend's trampoline the other day and nearly broke his wrist. Actually, we still haven't received word if there's a break or not. We had it looked at yesterday and the PA didn't see anything obvious on the x-rays, but the radiologist still needs to review. We'll find out on Monday.
Mike's Dad is dealing with some significant health issues right now. And we're 3000 miles away. Mike talks to his folks daily, getting just enough information to spark worry, without getting any real answers. I know his Mom's motivations are good; she doesn't want him to worry because of his ulcer. But all the unanswered questions and partial snippets of information are often harder to deal with than knowing the full story.
My Grandmother is now deep in the clutches of Alzheimer's. In her mind, she's living, once again, on the old homestead of her youth. She's getting worse. On a daily basis.
My other Grandmother is showing significant signs of dementia. Not the same as Alzheimer's, but equally as hard to deal with. They are having a family meeting next weekend to discuss putting her into a facility.
A dear friend is going through a very tough family issue (and issue is far from the right term to describe this) right now, and there's nothing I can do for her or her family, other than be available over the miles to listen. I know she needs support and friendship right now, and I'm 2500 miles away.
My Mom and her SO were here for a visit earlier in the month. They brought the 5th-wheel, despite the high gas prices, so everyone could have space. We have a guest room of sorts, but that many people in the house 24/7 is a little close at times. My brother and SIL did take care of the grocery shopping for me (all meals are prepared and served at my house since I have a kitchen big enough to manage the crowd), which was really a blessing. However, my SIL did precious little to help with meals and clean-up. I'm talking show up maybe 30 minutes before meal time, kids in tow, maybe stir a pot if asked, eat the meal, then retire to the other room or outside. It's like she was oblivious to the time and energy it takes to cook a full sit-down meal for 10 and then clean up afterwards. Thankfully, my Mom is awesome about jumping in on prep work, and clean-up, too. And the boys jumped right in on dishes with nary an argument. They knew I was stressed. And here it is 3 weeks after the fact, and I'm still bugged by it.
OK, so maybe the big things are a little bigger than I realized. I try not to chew on them continuously, but they are always in the back of my mind. Always. So the little stuff that comes up daily rides on top of all that. And some days, it just feels like the boat is ready to sink. Some days the weight is just so much.
I don't remember what it is to be stress-free. To not be tense. And not just mentally tense, but physically. My entire body is always poised and ready to react.
This entry is way longer than I figured it would be. Maybe I should write more often and get things out in small doses rather than producing a novella.
I just want to be able to relax.
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