Day 224

Not the greatest of days.

Work full of annoyances. I think all the stress of the stupid leg and the holidays is also starting to catch up to me. Leg achy from overdoing yesterday. Came home with a wicked tension headache then had family drama before I could even have a snack much less anything for my head.

I suppose it isn't all that surprising I was hit with a big ol' craving especially as the rest of the family has been drinking pretty much nightly since before Christmas. I didn't try to ignore it though; in the thick of the family nonsense I said "I swear I'm gonna start drinking again" which was somewhat surprising to myself as I hadn't really expected -that- to fall out of my face but it had the effect of immediately de-fanging the beast. The worst of the intense "drink now" lessened. Spouse said "oh don't do that; it won't help anything" which as y'all know I said to myself a lot in the earlier days. The terrible urge to Feel Different (as opposed to the set of lousy feelings currently in play) eased up.

Then I took one of my good super-NSAID non-narcotic Toradol and a Flexaril, called half a pint of Ben and Jerry's dinner and promptly fell asleep on the couch. Woke up headache-free, stayed up just long enough to cut the fabric that's been in the dining room table since before Christmas and have now traded the couch for bed.

So yeah...it doesn't go entirely away. The whole "this sucks these feelings suck I want new/different/no feeling booze will fix that drink alcohol NOW" song hasn't been playing like that for ages and ages but it can still pop up on the ol' mental radio station at a moment's notice. Now that it has I'm going to make extra effort to be good to myself especially now that we are headed into THE drinking holiday of the whole entire year.

Day 223

A good day.

Still don't know about the repeat labs yet but I'm not in any huge hurry to deal with All That anyhow. The leg felt quite a bit better today though now that I've gone and overdone things it is sore. One of my colleagues who sees me only intermittently commented that I had a pretty steady gait with no cane.

Mostly spent the day talking about various aspects of work as opposed to -doing- work -- lots of changes around the hospital and our "healthcare network."

Already figured out my 8-month Soberversary treat: a well-reviewed well-regarded knitting book. Then a later treat can be yarn for a project. Of course I haven't picked up either of my two current yarn projects since before the cast but I'm at least thinking about them which is a big improvement over those dreary cast-and-opiate weeks. Maybe this weekend I will put in some serious sweater time as it would be awfully nice to have a new red pullover.

The dog is better - big relief. Now I just need to continue getting me better.

Day 222

Weird day and it isn't even noon yet.


Primary care provider messaged me last night with my lab work: parathyroid hormone and ionized calcium elevated, total calcium high normal. Serum protein electrophoresis normal. Today she repeated the parathyroid hormone and the calcium but added on a Vitamin D level (which was slightly below normal a couple months ago.)


The TL;DR version of the above?  Might need neck surgery.


All this from "hey can we stop a minute? I think I've got a cramp" on November 13th.


Ten days after we switched to a high-deductible healthcare plan for 2017; doesn't that just figure?


As I said: weird.


I'm facing all this weirdness as a sober person and I cannot tell you just how much relief that provides.  No drinking out of worry, no vague "occasionally" or "a few nights a week" if asked, no wondering "can they tell?" and no irritability from not having my usual coping mechanism. No worries that somehow alcohol is the root cause of my current health problems, either: I've been continuously sober almost 8 months and sober 15 of the past 18 months. This is surprisingly reassuring and comforting because it's SO much less to think about.

=Many hours later=

Came home, took a nap. Even now nine days past the painkillers I'm just so tired all the time and it isn't like I'm doing anything to -get- tired. Fatigue goes with hyperparathyroidism though so that might be it. When I go through the list most of the symptoms fit so maybe if it gets fixed I will feel better. I sure hope so because upon reflection I feel overall worse than I did this time a year ago when I'd been for five months solid. Need to get this sorted out.

Meanwhile the dog is sick - vomited, off his feed, multiple bowel movements - he has a tendency to eat deer and barn-cat and possibly rabbit poop - has had worms several times from it - so I'm hoping that's all it is. He isn't acting -particularly- worrisome.

Kind of a downer day. Hope tomorrow is better.

Day 221

A good day.

Going back to work felt so pleasantly -normal-.Not a lot of cases so I had time to catch up on paperwork and computer stuff. Also got blood drawn for whatever my doc decided should be the post-spontaneous-fracture workup - I didn't see the order.

Co-workers glad to have me back and also to gently remind me "Get off that leg! Go sit down!" Aleve kept the pain at bay all day, too.

Spent the evening re-reading Carrie Fisher's _Wishful Drinking_ on Kindle. I know I bought and read  it hardbound when it first came out but it was passsed along to some person or book drive years ago. Another "hey I finally thought of something" treat for myself was to get whatever she had in Kindle format which was that, _Shockaholic_ which I had somehow missed and didn't know she'd written and her newest one _Princess Diarist_.

Hoping for a better night's sleep tonight: woke up a couple of times last night. Glad to be back to myself emotionally, that's for sure.

Told my didn't want 'em/ responsible use/but three weeks is still three weeks Vicodin withdrawal story to at least three separate groups of people - they all found it interesting (or pretended awfully well.) Still contemplating if or how sharing my experience could help somehow.

Heheh - just realized that today's day count is very Holmes-like: it is day 221 of my second truly big quit so that would be....221B. Not sure how to work in the Baker Street part but still 221 days sure feels good.

Day 220

A good day.

Felt closer to my normal self today than any other day since before I got the "muscle cramp" last month. Still have pain, of course, but naproxen and enough rest makes it go away entirely. Mostly I feel prettt normal mentally/emotionally though and about damned time sez I.

Good timing too as it is back to work tomorrow.

My biggest challenge is going to be -not- overdoing the walking/weight-bearing/vertical thing. No meetings means no trekking all over the hospital campus so that is a help.

Two hundred and twenty days feels like a big achievement. Big enough that I actually figured out a nice treat: Armenian burning papers which are like fancy incense but also good for drawers and handbags. The next two Actual Dayes are Sunday Jan 15 which will be 240 days and the following Friday will be my 8-month soberversary. Two-thirds of a year: pretty cool. Maybe by then this whole frigging Leg Melodrama will be a thing of the past. I sure hope so!

Day 219

So this is Christmas.

Having a rough time of it so I'll probably be off-and-on blogging all day. Don't know -why- I'm having such a quietly emotionally tense time of things but I know enough to just accept the feelings and not deny them or try to argue myself out of them. I'm sad and anxious and tense and haven't really a reason for any of it but that doesn't change anything.

The waffles were a success so that is something. Pre-visit phone call with MiL went pretty well too. Now if I could just shake this feeling like I'm gonna cry or get arrested for some unknown crime.

=About an hour later=

Spouse called and talked me down - that helped. Proposed that the emotion was delayed effects from the painkiller and that's probably a good thought.

=Several hours later=

Survived the family dinner. Of course it wasn't as bad as I made it out in my head to be; nothing ever is. Now once the dessert course is done home-and-pajamas are within grasp again.

=Another hour later=

Home in my jammies and having some quality lie-down time on the couch. Much better. -Still- not over the caroling thing but I can at least see that it is an overblown emotional response. No less real but I don't have to assign it much importance.

This year in particular Christmas has felt like something to survive or be endured. I sure hope the new year is better and that next Christmas isn'trprisingly  like this one.

=And yet another hour later=

This time I took Aleve for the leg pain which is surprisingly bad given how much less I was on it today than yesterday. With a new little twist - emphasis on "little." When I walk there is pain with rolling that foot forward only the pain is deep inside the outer-to-slightly upper part of my fifth (little) toe and it is annoying enough I just checked it out in good light to make sure it wasn't a soft tissue thing like an ingrown toenail or something. Nope, doesn't seem to be - but it occasionally radiates up the outer leg so it is probably nerve pain related to swelling and the answer is most likely "get back on that couch where it is level with your heart and not dangling from a chair or weight-bearing walking around." So that is exactly what I am doing, boring or not.

I am so very tired of all this leg-related nonsense. Now that the cast is off I want it to be _normal_ again and I think I need to just get over that idea.

=A couple more hours later=

I think overall I am getting better - had another wave of sad/anxious/freaky-at-the-edges but it was shorter and not as intense.

=And finally...=

Ah, bed. Real bed. Not the couch on the middle level to save on stairs. So worth it. Maybe I can start feeling more like _myself_ again. Tomorrow is the official work holiday and I intend to force myself to be a good girl and actually REST the leg, boring or not, as opposed to 1) running errands 2) standing up to cut out another scrub top (fabric has been on dining room table 3 weeks now) or 3) messing around in the kitchen.

Sober Christmas, even on an off kinda-sucky year is still better than being drunk and emotional for sure and waking up fresh and -not- hung over will be grand too. Even with all this Other Stuff going on that is still a greater good. Can't even imagine what adding booze to the mix would have done but nothing -good- for sure. No matter what else is going on or how bad it is "sober baseline" is still a way better place to be.

Day 218

Emotionally volatile day.

I think coming off Vicodin and coming into PMS have merged into a rather toxic mixture because it's Christmas Eve and not only am I not feeling it but I'm still chewed up over something that happened while caroling just now. My daughter and I are both fairly strong singers (she had a big part in the school musical) but I'm horribly insecure - I only ever follow a lead which is part of why I wanted her with me. I sang for years in the church choir as a kid but have never thought of myself as musical especially a capella as several other kids in that choir who did think of themselves as musical commented that I couldn't hold a key. Issues much? Anyhow the other strong female singer was on my other side during Hark the Herald. She dropped into harmony on the second verse and at the end the guy directing said "okay somebody keeps goi g high...and since I'm directing maybe it's me" though you could tell from tone he didn't really think that. We moved on to the next station and the other female lead moved totally away from me and my daughter so of course I was instantly convinced it was my fault and I was the one he was talking about. Pretty much ruined the rest of the event for me so I was really glad it was practically over anyhow. Because of above-mentioned emotional volatility I was pretty much a basket case in the car which is why I was kind of stunned when, after I shared with my daughter, she said "maybe it was me...but that IS one of my favorites" as if it wasn't that big a deal which I guess to normal people it wouldn't have been.

I was mildly physically ill over it - adrenaline kind of anxiety reaction - clear through the brief trip to the one open grocery to get eggs for tomorrow's waffles so I was also stunned when Spouse said "what an asshole! You all -volunteered- right?!? How dare he criticize anyone for doing something good and Jesus-like." I calmed down somewhat while I made dinner and have calmed down even more now that I have blogged about it but the whole experience left an awful taste in my mouth and since these were co-workers and their families I also have a wave of paranoia that they will all be talking about me. I realize all of this is in my head, on me and fairly irrational but the feelings are the feelings, rational or not. Right now I'm thinking I would sooner die than ever go caroling again but I have a whole year before that is even an option so it doesn't really matter. 

So there is that...plus I have been battling a mouse in the house for the past week and it is a crafty bugger who has evaded traps so I finally gave up and put out poison - if it dies in the walls it dies in the walls; at least I won't have to Deal With it that way. However the whole thing makes me sad as I don't -want- to have to kill the thing and actually have a sneaky admiration for how successful it has been in avoiding doom...but I can't have vermin in the house. 

The family being split apart this year doesn't bother me of itself - I -miss- Spouse and Eldest but they both hate winter up here in the Hinterlands so I'm happy they have the option of being elsewhere and happy the other house is being lived in and not left empty months on end. I have almost as many Christmas-past issues as Thanksgiving-past issues so I'm totally fine with them not doing the 4.5 hour drive back up since they were just here for Thanksgiving. Hell in my ideal world I would take a vacation to some non-US Caribbean island all of Thanksgiving week then hop a cruise ship Dec 20 and not come back till the new year was underway. But oh the fuss Scylla and Charybdis are making over it: swearing Spouse and I are separated and not telling them, playing every guilt card on the phone they can think of, making a big deal about "well what should we do with your presents?" Sigh.

It all makes me want to hide. Earlier tonight I wanted -so-badly- to just not be feeling all the feelings I was having. Not enough to seriously entertain drinking (or deciding I have enough Aleve-breakthrough pain after hiking through the hospital to take a Vicodin and how quickly did -that- nasty little voice grow out of nowhere just now; must be a twisted part of my brain that -did- like being dumb but numb) but enough to get weepy on the couch for a while. Fetal position clutching a blanket - the whole works. 

Then I remembered that writing it out -gets- it out and started this blog post which has been helping. Took a break to dig out the red poinsettia tablecloth and put it on the table for tomorrow breakfast and that helped too. Even though all this Other Shit is happening I can still do the ultra-low-key Christmas thing •I• want to do which is to put everyone's gift at their place on the pretty red tablecloth (Amazon did the wrap all in green this year) and have homemade waffles with real syrup. Got out the waffle iron earlier today.

It isn't a big deal or contributing to my overall mood really but I -am- sad in passing about Carrie Fisher as she was the first -spunky- princess in my world and wrote all those books I have enjoyed over the years. Hell _Postcards from the Edge_ was one of the things which triggered that little voice which said "hey maybe YOU have a booze problem" and that was clear back in my -twenties.- I know for a fact she has the best description of mania I have ever read in _The Best Awful_. I was impressed at the time when she was married to Paul. Freaking. Simon (even though apparently it wasn't such a great idea after all for the two of them) and have admired how she dealt with the whole Hollywood thing over the years. Sixty is far too young to lose her.

Had ice cream for dinner again tonight - with some of the above mentioned syrup. Didn't really seem to help my mood all that much but it tasted good. Middle just came downstairs and commented favorably on the tablecloth - that helped. I'm still not totally into this whole holiday thing but I am a lot better than I was when I first started typing. Maybe I will get through the night in one piece after all.

And if you too are having trouble - even in passing - with this whole Christmas Thing? You are my kin.

Day 217

A better day.

Today I felt mostly normal although I'm still prone to weeping and had a couple intervals of stomach pain. These past couple days were just awful; I totally understand why people keep taking opioids. Three weeks of light daily use gave me a day of complete uselessness and another day of mostly useless so I dread to think what six weeks of steady use would do - let alone six months. I wish I had been warned ahead of time. Maybe something as simple as "make sure your last dose is on aThursday so you have the weekend to get back to feeling yourself" or better still "no matter how carefully you take those any dose that kills the pain is also going to give you some side effects when you stop taking it. This happens to everyone and doesn't mean you took too much just that these are powerful drugs." Being told in advance 1) this will happen and 2) it doesn't mean you are a bad person or abuser/addict would have helped.

And damned if I didn't hear an ad this evening for a prescription drug "designed for my opioid-induced constipation." Seriously! I was stunned. I assume this means enough people are on chronic narcotic pain relievers that it is worth buying air time to hawk some super-pooper-pill. Wow.

But this isn't a narcotics blog; this is a staying sober from booze blog and today I am really happy to be off the holiday alcohol merry go round. For once I don't even -know- which liquor store has which special holiday hours because it just doesn't matter in my life this year. Not only am I not drinking - which I wasn't last winter either - but I'm not buying for anyone else either. That feels pretty damned good.

Day 216 (belated)

I forgot last night but I hadn't been awake even ten minutes when I thought "oh ghawd, I forgot to blog last night!" Funny how that works.

It was a better day than Wednesday for sure - moody but markedly less so. Played computer games for the first time since before I found out my leg was broken. Right before bed (my usual blogging time) I got the results of my bone density scan which show "osteopenia" which is apparently the precursor to flat out "osteoporosis." I don't need medication but "Exercise, weight bearing and muscle strengthening exercises have been shown to be an integral part of osteoporosis prevention and for osteoporosis treatment."  Supposed to be getting 1200 mg of calcium a day. 

I don't smoke and never have so that blurb doesn't apply but there's also this: "Alcohol restriction: limit alcohol use to no more than one drink per day for women and no more than 2 drinks per day for men. One drink equal 12 ounces of beer, 5 ounces of wine or 1.5 ounces of 80 proof distilled spirits."
Well. There are now two voices in my head. One is saying "See! you brought it on yourself with all those years of boozing it up" and the other is saying "Hey, there's another reason to be proud of what you've done so far and to -stay- quit."  I suppose everyone has their own Harsh and Mellow but I've realized that my own Harsh comes through first and louder...that's something to work on in the coming year I think.  "Compassion is incomplete if it doesn't include yourself" is a more formal way of saying "you don' love yourself, honey" but both versions fit.

TUMS are definitely in my future: my morning Greek yogurt and nightly cup of whole vitamin-D milk only add up to 500 mg of calcium which is less than half my goal...sigh.  One more thing to remember.  Good thing I stay sober now so that I can keep on top of all this age-related stuff, huh?

Still not a bit into Christmas. Can't win 'em all.

Day 215

Seven months today. A new milestone.

I'd be a lot happier about it if I weren't still dealing with this opioid thing. Today was not a good day. Poor sleep with crazy dreams and body aches followed by an emotional rollercoaster of irritability and weepiness. All for a drug I didn't want in the first place and used as directed. So unfair. As was the fracture in the first place, actually...but life isn't fair.

I was SO right to take the sick days though...no way could I have had this day at the office. I guess that's a small goodness. Tomorrow should be better; that's another small goodness.

Don't think I'm going to have the strength -not- to go to MiL's after all though, no matter how appealing it sounds. Sure I'd like to do the selfish thing for a change but the months of emotional fallout from being the Bad Guy probably aren't worth it. She was laying it on thick to Middle just this afternoon how -much- she was looking forward to seeing me. Sigh. One of these years I really am going to go on s long tropical vacation instead of doing -any- of this Christmas/New Years stuff.

Still ...despite everything, seven months is pretty cool. Even if I can't appreciate it emotionally I can appreciate it intellectually.

Day 214

No more cast!

This really makes me happy. Have to follow up in two weeks for another round of X-rays.Don't know bone density results although ortho PA said I was "a little light" and said they were starting a F-something-drug-name clinic but would let my primary care doc coordinate. The F-something osteoporosis drug I found online was a daily injectable parathyroid-type hormone you can only take two years total ever...that's a big cup of Fuggheddaboudit! 

Because I fully expected another 3 weeks of cast I arranged to take rest of today and next 3 days off which I still am...my work ethic doesn't carry that far. Was cautioned to "take it easy" and "let pain be your guide" so actually do plan to take it as easy as possible. 

Had a BATH when I got home and it was wonderful.

Y'know what wasn't wonderful though? Getting a runny nose this afternoon and feeling all sick to my stomach this evening and having heat flushes and chills and generally feeling overall lousy. Thought I might be coming down with a cold till I realized I took my last hydrocodone at around 4:30 yesterday afternoon, looked online and discovered that every single one of those symptoms could be chalked up to physical withdrawal. I took them exactly as prescribed, never once hit maximum daily dose and in fact was at less than half that most days...but I suppose three weeks is still three weeks and daily use is still daily use. Damn. Well, it should be over soon. I read that it peaks at the 2-3 day mark so all the better I took the time off after all.

I think I understand the "prescription opioid epidemic" a little better though, that's for sure. That's some powerful dangerous stuff there. Kills pain really well but damn there's a price tag. Now that I've been declared to have "good sticky bone formation" if I -do- have pain I'm going back to my nice safe aspirin. 

Feels a little weird to be writing all of the above before saying that tomorrow is my seven-month soberversary but I think that is largely because of lumping "addiction" all under the same umbrella...and because "withdrawal" feels somewhat pejorative even though I was specifically told "take these but -not- NSAIDS because NSAIDS delay bone healing."  I'm trying not to let it get me down.

Sleeping in and being cast-free will be a great start to a new personal best sober date as will having a nice leisurely breakfast. I do plan to take it very easy - as easy as if I did get another cast at least for the three weekdays - so there won't be driving or sewing or other adventures but I already have a BIG sober treat planned for myself: sending the rest of the family to MiL's house on Xmas day and pleading sickness/under the weather as an excuse to stay home. I soldiered up and did Thanksgiving; that was enough. And part of why I'm writing it here is so that I have less chance of letting myself be guilted into going.

Happy Solstice.

Day 213

An okay day.

Doing close to nothing all weekend paid off: leg started aching only slightly and only at the very end of the day. One pain pill fixed it which is a first. I'm still anxious about the re-x-ray but now that 1) it is tomorrow and 2) I'm prepared for another 3 weeks of cast I'm overall doing better with it.

Also I had cookies and ice cream for dinner. Something sweet sounded -really- good and I cannot remember if, muchless when, I ever did that before. I've had sweets for brunch but not usually ice cream and have well-worn tapes about "nutritious food for the evening meal." Yeah well it felt great. Might do it again sometime.

=Later=

Early bedtime. I'm just so tired all the time. But day after tomorrow is seven months by the calendar.

Day 212

A dull day

No, make that "dulled." I dutifully did another day of Medication And Rest so I didn't feel much of anything all day and didn't do much of anything either. Phone-app solitaire, web surfing and a nap were plenty entertaining enough and that is so not me as to be a little concerning. Who is this strange half-invalid and why is she living in my head and body?

On the other hand the emotions which did bubble up past the hydrocodone were sadness and frustration in about equal parts. Also, if I'm being honest, a slug of fear, too. Fear that the reason it still hurts even after two solid weeks of cast time is because it -isn't- healing properly and will need surgically stabilized. Weaker fear about why it broke in the first place. Sadness that I won't be getting any more library books till I'm back to full mobility. Mostly a huge frustration that a fracture I never thought I had in the first place is turning into THE driver of my entire life.

I'm sure there's a big lesson about acceptance here but I'm not very receptive to it right now. The re-x-ray isn't tomorrow but the day -after- tomorrow which is particularly annoying to me right now: close but not close enough.

I'm also having a lot of trouble with being incapacitated. Lazy. Slacker. Goof-off. Unmotivated. Useless. Even though I know better. It is really easy to read "if your compassion doesn't include yourself it is incomplete" but damned near impossible to put into practice. 

The self-care tools I started using in early sober time are still of great value though: was planning menus before sending Middle to the grocery and said "let's get pizza on Tuesday. That's the day of my clinic visit and no matter what they say, even if it's good news, I still won't be in any mood to cook." That's planning ahead to avoid overwhelm right there. Go me.

Day 211

Well really Day 210 And A Half since I haven't been up a whole hour yet. However blogging provides accountability so I'm actually -writing- that my plan for today is to spend as much of it horizontal on this couch under this afghan as possible. Last weekend I got bored and cocky and overdid and didn't do myself any favors in the process so this weekend needs to be different starting now.

=Much Later=

Didn't do too badly. No stairs at all, didn't leave the house and didn't stay entirely vertical more than 20-30 minutes at a time. Stayed up to date on pain pill. Apart from being pretty damned dull it was okay though I still managed to get about 2/3 the steps I did yesterday. Guess all the little ups and downs add up.

Finally saw Trading Places this evening as Middle left the TV on and I just watched whatever rolled out. Meh.

Managed not to overeat but I've noticed the opioid seems to give me a helluva sweet tooth. Which at first I thought was weird till I remembered a line from Carrie Fisher's Postcards from the Edge when the rehab group goes to the mall and the heroine has a whole bunch of sweets then says "X says I eat just like a heroine addict (but I break just like a little girl.)" In any case I managed not to eat all the ice cream or all the Reese's bells.

And now to early bedtime. Sleep heals, right? Can you tell I'm worried the damned thing isn't fixing itself fast enough?

Day 210

Seven times thirty. Go me.

Decent day, too. Well as decent as a freaking cast in freaking winter can be, anyhow. Still frustrated by my inability to -walk- anywhere: needed to get money from the bank machine for our snowplow guy and deliberately waited till end of day in case it made the break hurt but hoping it wouldn't ... and of course it did. I don't know why i persist in thinking that after two weeks in a cast the pain should be All Gine Now since that clearly isn't the case but for some reason I do.

Tex-Mex and last of the coffee-toffee ice cream for dinner was the best I could do for a Day 210 treat but hell yes I plan to do more/different/better if I can think of something. Eventually. I -am- proud of myself; it is just that the leg and winter and the car sharing have combined to keep me worn down.

Still...it's nice to be this far along. And I can sleep as much as I like tomorrow; that will be nice too.

Day 209

A better day.

Weather miserable but leg not nearly as bad. Stayed off it, got the work done underfed to do, left a little early and took a nice nap after dinner

Now after a brief tour of lunches and dishes I'm going right back to sleep.

No cravings or thoughts at all and tomorrow is seven months by thirty-day blocks. Home.

Day 208

Hard day all around.

The walk to and from my morning meeting made the leg hurt worse than it has since before the cast and it stayed with me all day. Enough so that when I saw the split of sparkling wine my secretary had included in her present to me I had a brief fleeting "oh what the fuck; drink it" moment which was sort of scary even though I knew I wouldn't act on the impulse.

At my bone density scan - still in pain - I finally saw not just the words of the report but the actual images of my leg and even the pathologist could tell "damn, that's just snapped right through." The tech was stunned enough to say "I can't believe you walked around on that for two weeks; you must have a very high pain tolerance." Yeah and it doesn't seem to be particularly adaptive. In any case that wS when I had to acknowledge to myself that I had been holding out hope that this was just a little or partial fracture so that maybe I -could- be permanently rid of the cast next Tuesday...and then let that hope go because the images and the pain say that ain't happening.

Had some weird frustrating work-related stuff happen too so by early afternoon I was pretty much a wreck. Middle had an afternoon final so I couldn't even leave early. Brooded and had a sulky self-pity party instead which I don't really recommend. Started worrying about how much I wanted to get home to my pain medication in the form of "ohmighawd am I getting a -new- problem substance?"

Was all but crying when I finally got home -- must've been pretty obvious how poorly I was doing because Middle insisted I take pain pills and lie down while he walked the dog and got pizza. I decided wanting pain medicine -for-pain- was probably not a sign of impending addiction after all...though Eldest, who has a friend in heroin rehab right now, expressed mild concern. I told her truthfully that I couldn't imagine taking this stuff (hydrocodone) recreationally as it didn't make one "high" at all just turned the give-a-shit factor down to zero and dumb-as-a-post up to eleven. What it -did- do, however, was make the pain go away which I was all for. She seemed content with that.

I am going to make a much bigger effort to do as little as possible with/on the leg - increased pain plus finally seeing the break now have the specter of "not healing; needs pinned" looming in the dark shadowy corners.

Gave the teeny bottle of fizzy wine away. Better safe than sorry.

Day 207

Today it has all started catching up to me.

So busy just carrying on in that "oh I'm fine" way that I haven't given myself room to even have, much less process, the emotions going with having a freaking broken leg at all much less before and during the biggest holiday on the calendar. Yeah well...it sucks. Lots. With plenty of anger to go around too.

Having to work - no, wait, make that choosing to work because I could in fact go out on medical leave but I didn't feel like screwing over my colleagues that much when the reason I'm on service at all is to fill in the holes left by vacation. In any case, being at work sucks not just because of the limited mobility but because of all the Really Stupid things people who ought to know better say like "here she comes gimping down the hall" or "gee I can hear you coming a mile away."

Getting through snow and cold and wet, even just from the car to the door and back, is annoying even with a "cast shoe" and the stupid cast show itself makes me lopsided. And let's face it, nobody not even family wants to hear a litany of complaints which is why it's coming out on my blog - my blog; my content.

I want it to be freaking over already and at -minimum- that's still another week away. Realistically it is probably more like the week of January 9th. 1-really- hate that.

=Much Later=

Vented most of the above to Spouse which helped. Knocked off work early, came home, took pain pills and had a solid hour of nap which (like a cranky toddler) helped a lot. Have made sure to spend most of the rest of the evening horizontal too and whaddya know? The swelling is going down. Fancy that. Not near as angry/frustrated/sad/tired either...again, whaddya know and fancy that.

Eldest flat out told me "Mom, you really need to spend most of your time lying down even if it -is- boring because you want to -heal- right?" Gotta admit the kid has a point.

The sober thing is going fine for now anyhow - having a drink hasn't occurred to me at all. Grateful for that, of course. Have noticed how even at work the standard Secret Santa gift seems to be a bottle of wine...a couple of decades ago nobody would even consider bringing booze gifts to a hospital work environment but I guess that changed. Makes sense from a marketing standpoint so I suppose the "go ahead! Indulge yourself!" applies just as much to alcohol as calories and ghawdonlyknows Big Business is running everything...that part of cyberpunk is surprisingly accurate. But enough on that...I need to work on unwinding and getting to sleep at not just a decent but perhaps even early hour. Big early morning meeting tomorrow I have to attend in person and there's Abigail chunk of walking to get there.

Day 206

Hard day.

Couldn't get to sleep till way closer to one than midnight, had crazy dreams, woke up at least once in the night, had stupid school-delay call waking me a half hour before alarm...and the leg was hurting first thing ingbe morning which it hasn't done in ages. Figure it was a combination of weather change and overdoing on the weekend. Noticed it was swollen under the cast and realized belatedly that although sewing is a sit-down activity it also involves a lot of ironing which is standing.

Work had several meetings in addition to heavier than usual number of cases. One of the meetings was lunch with colleagues which was nice but I didn't like either of the two new things I tried and one of my pals said "as long as there's not a nonunion" when I brought up my interim x-ray next week. Hadn't even considered that idea...which took hold better than it otherwise would have done because of the pain and it irritated me that my friend would gloom and doom like that.

My other colleague, however, complimented my new top twice so that was nice.

Going to have to pay more attention to "healing" and less to "carrying on in spite of" though, that's for sure. I'm really terrible at babying myself starting with calling it that instead of taking care of myself or self-nurture or anything else without a negative connotation. No more sewing till the cast is permanently off and no more shopping either...though I can already sense a big mental "maybe" with regard to the latter.

I don't know how exactly "carry on in the face of any adversity and GHAWDforbid you ever ask for -help-" became so embedded in my psyche but I need to start untangling from it. There isn't any great cosmic scorecard and I don't think there are any prizes either.

Day 205

Quiet day.

As expected, the leg was sore from overdoing it but one pill fixes it.

Today's big accomplishment was making the scrub top I cut out last weekend because I wanted to see how my latest tweaks to the pattern worked out before laying out any new fabric (of which I have two lengths.)

Even waiting till the downside of the medicine it was tougher going than usual - not in any big sloppy overt way but in a more subtle everything-seems-harder going-slower easily-frustrated kind of way. Broke it up into two separate sessions and it was "work" not "relaxing fun hobby-time." Not gonna be doing any more sewing till the cast is off and the painkiller is history, that's for sure. On the other hand, I have something new to wear tomorrow.

It may be a totally unpopular possibly even heretical position but I would just as soon flat-out skip Christmas this year. The older I get the less I like it and the cast was just one thing too many. I'm hoping maybe my attitude will improve as it inches closer.

And now for an early bedtime as I have a very busy week ahead.

Day 204

Up and down but overall good day.

Woke up at 7 which - sad though it sounds - is "sleeping in" by a good half hour...but the dog and I both eliminated and went back to sleep till nine-thirty. Stunning. Guess I needed the rest.

Had a Big Sad in the middle of the day but jollied myself right out of it by leaving the house for the first time in two weeks -- apart from being driven to/from the door of my work building that is. Took a library book to the drop-box and it felt so good to be driving (cast is on left foot) that I decided to do the grocery shopping myself this week. Chose tonight because 1) snow tomorrow and 2) whole day to rest in case I made the leg ache overmuch.

I did make the leg ache but it was worth it. I had sort of realized over the past couple weeks how little I liked being "passive" as I thought of the whole limited-mobility gig but didn't realize at all how empowering the stupid supermarket would be. It really is the little things sometimes.

I'm also still pretty excited about Personal Record sober time...I'm hoping the new and shiny will wear off into a comfortable "I'm a nondrinker" everyday kind of feeling because I don't want it to -keep- being this Huge Thing but I'm sure going to enjoy it for now. Next Friday is Day 210 and the Wednesday after that is my actual Seven Month Soberversary day so I'm planning on getting a quiet kinda-secret pre-holiday charge out of both. This hasn't been my first set of sober fall/winter holidays as the previous run started in July so I won't have that particular excitement but for Thanksgiving it was very helpful to be able to tell myself "you've done this before;  you can do it again" when things were hard, temptation was all around and That Voice was trying to get my attention. I'm hoping the same holds true for Christmas and New Year's Eve.

Day 203

A new day. Personal best. Uncharted waters.

The longest I've been continuously sober since...well, ever, probably because ours was one of those Hippy/Bohemian let-the-kid-have-wine-or-beer kind of households. In any case I'm feeling pretty good about it, leg in a cast or not.

Knocked off work way early -- not so much to celebrate as because Middle had plans and wanted to take the car but the effect was the same. The "celebration" such as it was consisted of Velveeta-salsa dip and corn chips because it sounded good, I had the ingredients and I haven't had a Big Feed in ages. Then I took a nap. Do I know how to party or what?!!? Seriously though, it -did- feel nice to listen to my body and not feel like "celebrate" automatically equals alcohol.

=Later=

Well there is still drama in other parts of the family but my son, who is with college friends doing college-guy stuff, still texted "Ilove you" after checking in to let me know he was staying over. That was heartening.

Haven't done anything but lie on the couch all evening but I think I'm okay with that. I -know- I'm okay with brand new sober seas to sail. 203 days. Finally got back to where I was in March plus one. Go me.

Oh! And I had a really great witty social media moment earlier today -- one of those right place/right time/right joke things. As I told Spouse, "I won the internet!" That was a great present because it was all me and all -sober- me...if I'd been hung over I doubt I would have managed to get my act together enough in a timely enough fashion.

Onward ho.

Day 202

Long day.

Resolved family drama, car drama and work issues as best I could. Came home in a really foul mood but seem to be doing better now. Can't help but wonder if the pain medication is playing some role in my mood swings and think it is the source of the really wacko dreams I've had lately. Hoping next week I can wean it down yet more...still need it at end of day after going all day without.

Still...managed to get back to 202 days. That feels pretty good. As mentioned before, there was no Day 203 although at this point back then I didn't realize it. I think in retrospect I -was- getting awfully complacent though and I was definitely thinking something along the line of "okay, so got the drinking thing fixed; time to move on to food and exercise and weight loss." Not doing that this time. Also I had a certain amount of "well TWO hundred days proves I don't have a -problem-..." which is, of course, pure bullshit. But that's okay because this time around I'm giving it the respect it deserves and giving myself the respect and self-care -I- deserve. 

I do wish I could figure out a proper do-able treat...but it will come in time I am sure. This limited-mobility thing is getting old though, that's for sure. If I were still -walking- I would have taken myself out to lunch at least once and maybe twice in the past couple weeks...and would have definitely poked around the dime store.

On the other hand this has been a useful lesson in compassion. For others with mobility problems and also for myself with the latter being surprisingly harder than I expected. Bit by bit I am starting to turn off that hypercritical voice in my head.

Day 201

Bah. A lousy day.

Dealt with one round of car trouble and family drama only to get a second different round of both. Feels like anot-very-fun video game. At least I'm getting more mobile clunking around with my cast and cane.

I'm pleased about the 201 days of course - tomorrow will tie the longest sober time I've ever done - but my dis is pretty severely gruntled about most everything else. Yes of course I'm in need of some treats but I'm just not figuring out what good ones might be due to the combination of limited mobility with the cast and both nausea and general disinterest from the drugs. Maybe inspiration will hit.

In the meantime though I'm getting through all the shit I've got to get through and even though it is unpleasant and I often feel whiny inside I'm doing it and doing it sober. That's still an accomplishment, disgruntled or not.

Day 200

Hey I made it this far!

I'm happy about it but can't work up much enthusiasm. Just the leg would be enough but I've got car troubles and family drama too. Plus I'm not sleeping well due to horrible crazy dreams from which I wake up every couple-three hours. I'm assuming they are a side effect of the pain pills. Tomorrow is back to work for the rest of the week; not too keen on that but hoping it will be less uncomfortable/unpleasant than Monday was.

This too shall pass, I know...but I sure wouldn't mind it passing a little more quickly with a few more nice things along the way.

Still...back up to 200 days. That doesn't suck.

Day 199

Rough day but better now.

Going to work was harder than I expected. Not really ready for no pain medication at all as even with elevation there was a constant nagging ache in the two spots where it has been hurting the whole time. Also why do so many people feel the need to say such silly stuff like "with your cane I can hear you coming before I see you" and "boy,  you sure can't sneak up on anyone now, can you?" At least I've got the "what did you DO?" response down to two words: fractured fibula. 

The whole incapacitated piece really gets to me - I know it is my weirdness but I really dislike clunking around -work- with Mrs Cast and Mr Cane. That's what we call them in relation to the dog as in "he's fine with Mrs Cast but he's still scared of Mr Cane." In any case it was just a drag of self consciousness every time I set foot (haha) outside my office.

Fortunately I have had six months of practicing self care so I knew what to do when I got home: pain mess and a 20-min lie down before anything else. Then a super-easy dinner (I had cereal with milk for the calcium; the meat-eaters had hot dogs.) Fixed the lunch for ABL, made tea and was back on the couch by 6:15 feeling -much- better...then took a nice 90-min nap which was my 2nd of the day as I had _most_ uncharacteristically dozed in my office chair at lunchtime. Don't know why I am so exhausted today but also know enough not to fight it.

All things considered I feel like I'm doing pretty well. I'm acknowledging but not giving in to the negative emotions like frustration, anger and self pity and I'm making lots of conscious decisions -not- to push myself in this or that way but to treat myself with the same kind of kindness and therapeutic courtesy I would anyone else.

No booze thoughts at all other than to get irritated by the "drunkmas" video I have seen on social media lately which features a pretty assisted redhead advocating vodka and "whatever liquid you have in the refrigerator" to make oneself feel better about one's family at the holidays. It's done well enough but as Ambrose Bierce said: we are never more intolerant than of our own faults in others.

Tomorrow will be 200 days. I'm happy for that. 

Day 198

Getting closer to personal best all the time...it will be Friday.

Rough day.

Bad things: dog broke leash and had big escape. Car wouldn't start - not the battery. MiL said some really mean spirited stuff and some other really controlling stuff.

Good things: a _shower_, down to one pain pill per dose, got a scrub top cut out, Chinese food for dinner and won $40 on a scratch-off lottery ticket.

So. Tired. More tomorrow.

Day 197

Weird day.

My pain med is "one or two every 6 hours" and I have discovered the hard way that it still takes two to get proper pain relief...and now that I know I -can- be pretty much pain free I want to -be- pain free       so I am taking them two at a time for now. Also trying to do less today than I did yesterday which is pretty easy because 10mg of hydrocodone makes me dumb as a post and more than happy to accept boredom. I have thought about my yarn projects and reading and even coloring (I never gave it up from childhood just took it underground so as not to be ridiculed so I think the "new" trend is hilarious) but all of those sound way too complicated. Well, maybe I will read later but that's about it.

Not at all worried about getting hooked on the opioid even now that the itching and nausea are under control: I can't stand being this friggin' stupid. However I do understand better how it is that a high school classmate of mine got so fond of them because they turn "don't give a shit" all the way to eleven and break off the dial. 

I am still very grateful to have a cane instead of crutches. I'm also grateful to have the problem finally  diagnosed and treated. Still kind of worried because they haven't released my x-ray results to MyChart (online medical record for patients) but I'm thinking it is most likely because multiple providers have been in the EMR (electronic medical record) and each is thinking one of the others will do it. Sure the small mean voice whispering "hematologic malignancy" hasn't -entirely- left the building but if that's the case the 3-week X-ray will point in that direction. See previous paragraph about give-a-shit. 

I am also very grateful to be doing this whole spontaneous fracture dance sober. Not just a week or two sober but six continuous months and another similar chunk a couple months before that. It is one less thing to worry about both from the "are they gonna figure it out?" sense and the "well how am I gonna get the booze now?" sense...and I think I talked about that here already...but it IS a very free-ing feeling.

Much Later...

They don't call it "impaired" fer nuthin', that's for sure. From about 30 to 90 min after those two white tablets I am just utterly useless...my tiny Hoosier grandmother would have said "worthless as teats on a boar hog." Even after that phase passes I'm still totally not myself: got sick of stupid phone games so I tried coloring and not only was the task technically frustrating but I hated all the color choices after I made them. And I don't know whether it is a side effect of the drug or the fracture or the stress at dealing with it all but I have become really noise-sensitive. Turned the volume of my phone way down and thought I was going to go insane over the dog sucking his foot even though he's done it since he was a tiny puppy and he'll be two this month.

Yeah of course there is an alcohol comparison in there somewhere; how could there not be? Especially regarding the irritability. Strange to think that I chose the one for years and am already looking forward to being without the other.

Tomorrow's big plan is to rest up for a shower in the evening.

Day 196

A resting day.

First of three and it's harder than it looks. I must subconsciously view my body as some sort of cheap badly maintained robot that it is okay to run out of spec with warning lights flashing. Now that the pain has improved so very much I find it more than a little crazy that I put up with as much as I did for as long as I did...yet even now I find myself trying to push the envelope.

For example: I was wise enough to take today off work and to sleep on the middle-level couch instead of my downstairs bedroom. This morning I planned out how I would make the next three days all about staying only on this level and being horizontal as much as humanly possible and doing as little as possible because I have to be at work Monday morning and don't want to work while on -any-  narcotic so I figured three days of good pain control and horizontal rest would give the best chance of proper healing. 

Till I remembered ABL's bowling and how I had said I would take him so HE could bowl tonight. Immediately I started planning how to have a shower during peak pain med hours and how logistically to do it...the idea of just telling ABL "sorry, can't do it" didn't even enter into the thought process. It took Spouse saying "are you -crazy-?! You didn't go to work but you think you have to take him -bowling-?!? And you're going to take a shower with nobody but him in the house?! That's nuts!" before I realized that yes...that IS pretty nuts. After I had clunked around the kitchen putting together a bowl of cereal I was tired enough to be grateful for couch time I realized I really had no business trying to do anything more than I had originally planned and wondered (still do) what crazy part of me thought I had to even try. 

Whatever part it is was intimately connected to the drinking though. Both in the Cinderella has done all her chores so now she can go to the ball sense and also in the I -deserve- this sense. Maybe if I had  been better at prioritizing my own needs I wouldn't have been so hot to consider the brain-bending of alcohol a reward for life's ills...but there's no time like the present to learn. 

Much Later

Overall this whole fracture deal is basically Not Great. The best thing about today was a lovely 2-hour conversation with Eldest -- that was pleasant and distracting and enjoyable. Last time we had such a conversation was on the walk where the damned bone spontaneously broke in the first place. The other good thing is that the Benedryl and spaced dosing seems to be keeping the itching and nausea from my painkiller away and the hydrocodone -is- way better at pain relief. The rest of it pretty much sucks and the suckiest thing if all is that all this stress is causing my psoriasis to flare. The second suckiest is a tie between ABL acting like a real jerk about the whole thing and the fact that I feel too overall lousy to even read much less do handicrafts. Spent all day today dozing and playing completely mindless phone app games when I wasn't clunking to and from bathroom/walking dog. Don't worry; "walking" in this case means hooking him up to an extendable leash and plonking my butt in a yard chair right by the front door.

Still no urges or cravings. No appetite either; apparently that gets killed along with the pain.

It is very weird to be using my phone pedometer to see how -few- steps I can take in a day. I also have to keep stopping myself from trying to do too much: I seem to have this bizarre need to prove how not-incapacitated I am which is pretty fucking nuts. I'm sure it springs from the same can't ever ask for help tree my mother planted in my psyche and nurtured her whole life but I'm managing to keep the limbs pruned way back...and that's enough of that metaphor; it is withering fast (haha.)

And now to sleep. I hope.

Day 195

Today I got a cast.

I also got scolded for letting it go too long before seeking care and for taking such big slugs of naproxen. Fair enough.

The whole cast thing isn't a bit thrilling but there are some good points. The very biggest is that I have a cane and NOT crutches, praise be. The second biggest is that true immobilization plus actual hydrocodone has provided better pain relief than I have had since the whole thing started and so far no itching or nausea because the PA told me to take Benadryl before the painkiller. My eyes aren't focusing very well but since I don't have to do anything other than lie here it isn't a big deal. The third biggest is that the cast comes off for x-rays at the3-week mark. Even if they just put another cast right back on again that skin will still get aired out and washed off. The final thing is that cast material now. Comes in something called "floral camouflage" which is brightly multicolored and cheerful.

Didn't realize just how much pain I was enduring till it finally stopped.

I'm sure there are going to be big "oh this just BLOWS" patches in my future but right now I'm grateful to finally have decent pain relief. And now I think I should sleep; opiayes make one really loopy.

Oh but before I do I wanted to mention that it is just So Nice to be in a serious healthcare situation and not have even one iota of shame or worry about "will they figure out how much I've been drinking?" Yet another item for the "pluses" column.

Day 194

An interesting day thus far.


This morning I noticed that my good buddy Toradol was only cutting my pain by about half to two-thirds, not all the way down to "damned near nuthin'." That was odd but hey, tendinitis is a bitch, right?


I went for my "just to be safe rule-out" X-ray and after it was done the X-ray tech weirdly asked me if I could wait in the waiting area for a few minutes "to make sure the doctor sees the films" and then after a while she said I could go ahead and leave "but you're going to be in the building today, right?" That was odd too...but I forgot all about it once I got back to my office.


After a meeting I went to the ZOO of a surgical clinic where I learned that "orthopedic boot" is code for "removable walking cast" and shortly thereafter learned that the freaking thing made it hurt -far- worse than nothing at all.  I wore it for about ten minutes till I could get back down to my office and take it off with thoughts of stopping at the drugstore for a good old-fashioned ACE wrap or some kind of elastic brace and I was mad my Toradol seemed to have worn all the way off a little before its six-hour mark.  I was in the middle of a whiny email rant to a friend of mine about the cost in both dollars and aggravation of finding out I had the same peroneal tendinitis I had diagnosed the day the pain started when the attending from last night called me with X-ray results: Acute fracture of the distal left fibular metadiaphysis. This would be fancy-talk for "freaking broken, is what." 


That explains the lousy pain relief and the weird X-ray tech and the worsening not improving swelling...and also means my family was right to nag me to see someone. Pretty clearly reinforces "that's nuts, Mom" regarding my worrying about being thought a whiner or a baby....the doctor saod she was fooled and apologized not once but twice for the misdiagnosis! Obviously growing up with a crazylady whose best crazys involved sickness of varying kinds has totally warped my perspective, subsequent training notwithstanding.  Useful life lesson there.


Another useful life lesson: when the PrimeCare scheduler put me through to the Orthopedics scheduler I couldn't get an appointment till late Monday afternoon which probably wasn't that bad in the grand scheme of things but was psychologically bothersome - it seemed wrong for my own healthcare system to say "now that we know it's broken it's still okay to walk on it another 4.5 days."  In an exceedingly rare burst of RHIP (rank hath its privilege) I had my secretary, who used to work in surgical scheduling, play the Insider card to move up the appointment to 10:15 tomorrow morning...and I don't even feel guilty about it.

-Much later-

It was a rough evening. Two days of poking and prodding plus that awful pain-inducing orthopedic boot caught up with me as I was getting dinner. It was like I hadn't even taken the damned Toradol and I couldn't get to the couch fast enough. Once there I couldn't find a position,  even lying down, that didn't hurt at least a little. Was a weepy angry whiny self pitying mess for a while but I remembered "reach out; don't isolate" and texting with family helped. Eventually the swelling went down enuogh that I was merely uncomfortable and not completely miserable. The pisser is that I didn't DO anything to it. No fall, no twist, not even stepping on a rock. Will probably have to get a bone density scan because "stress fracture at just barely 50" is considered abnormal. Especially with no actual injury. Freaking fibula just decided to break itself for no good reason.

Didn't want a drink through any of it so that was good.

Day 193

Long day.

Every single person who heard I had an appointment about my foot/leg said "good!" with surprising emphasis. On the way in I told Middle, "even though sitting here it hurts when I flex it I'm still afraid they will think I'm a whiner or a baby or a faker." Never one to mince words, he said, "that's crazy, Mom." I know. Being the kid who was part of a fair bit of Munchausens By Proxy really skews one's perspective.

After all the fuss ahead of time it took 2 hrs to find out I have the peroneal tendinitis I diagnosed the day I first got pain...but at least I now have Toradol i.e. Ketorolac i.e. very strong NSAID which severely opiate intolerant I call "the good stuff." Also prescriptions for x ray and an ominous-sounding "orthopedic boot." Nobody thought I was a whiner or a baby or faking it: when the attending came in she was still a couple feet away when she said "oh yeah I see the swelling" and I was -offered- both a work note and narcotic painkiller, neither of which I took.

Energy still low but finally ironed the fabric I've been wanting to do since Saturday...but wisely decided not to attempt pattern layout and cutting yet tonight: much better to wait till I'm less tired.

Oh! Almost forgot: wanted to mention that I have noticed that I am better able to keep track of little trivial things these days. Like "oh yeah there was a spot on that shirt I wanted to spritz with the spray stuff" when loading laundry into the washer. Or remembering grocery items not on the list. Nothing all that important but still. Also I don't seem to be chalking things up to "well, stress" nearly as often either. I don't have -proof- that staying sober is the reason but I do think that's at the root of it. One more thing in the "plus" column.

Day 192

Tiring day.

Site visit at work: couple hours driving for less than an hour of meeting and another one tomorrow in a different direction. Spouse and Eldest back to other house. Made an appointment to get ankle/leg looked at tomorrow afternoon: two weeks is long enough. That triggered a whole bunch of "sick" issues which I don't feel like unpacking now other than to say it was a big achievement to actually go ahead and arrange to be seen and that I've been having to tell myself pretty regularly that I am not a burden or a whiner or a faker. It's kind of working.

No cravings but still eating too much - trying to cut myself a fair bit of slack as there has been the whole holiday chaos on top of pain thing going on...that's kind of working too though not as well.

Creeping toward the new personal best day of 203 bit by bit...that's working great. Have told myself that even if I don't move more than the bare minimum to get from bed to car to office and back again -while- eating a whole damned bag of cookies in a single setting that would all be okay - well, tolerable anyhow - as long as no booze was involved. This isn't a Total Health And Wellness Makeover Plan; this is a Quit Boozing Plan and doesn't need potentially derailing creeping elegance.

Second day in a row I wanted to play with fabric in the evening and was just too freaking tired when the time came...maybe I really -do- need to get the ankle/leg thing fixed up as it is definitely impacting my life. Something to ponder.

Day 191

Still morning, actually.

It is great to wake up refreshed at quarter past six in a Sunday morning but it is even better to go back to sleep on the couch for another 90 minutes and still get the shopping put away before anyone else is up. Getting salad made and the yard picked up were just bonus. Since I have a Lunchable for ABL and dinner is still a big question mark, ALL my Actual Work of the day was done by ten in the morning...and not just done but done easily and in good spirits because I don't have that dizzy tired vaguely nauseated everything-sucks feeling. Totally worth it. I've even forgiven the dog.

I realize this feeling might not last the whole day but I wanted to note it now.

=Much Later=

Like twelve whole hours later. Glad I wrote something upbeat earlier as the day sort of soured on me...or maybe it was me souring on the day. In either case I ended up irked at most everything before falling asleep on the couch at nine. Have moved from couch to bed and am going right back to sleep as tomorrow begins a whole fresh week of early mornings again. Glad I'm far away from the "oh but it is the last day of the holiday - gotta enjoy it extra much" mentality that would have had me drinking "not -too- very much" even though (hell, because) I'm clearly tired and out of sorts.

Day 190

Some days you just throw in the towel and go to bed at quarter of nine.

Went to bed grumpy last night but the morning was just so good: Thanksgiving Saturday is a -particularly- nice morning to wake up fully functional and fit as the proverbial fiddle. Had been meaning all day to write about how nice it was to be at the bakery just before eight and get all the stuff done that I needed to do.

Then things spiraled downward. Stupid tendinitis flared badly right around the same time family tensions started flaring...they got loud-ish with one another while I reclined on the couch to get my foot elevated. Girl-beagle has always had a bean bladder and I'm Out Lady so she started carrying on to me to take her out and I made noises about someone else doing it as I didn't want to get up but through one thing and another it didn't happen and she curled up next to me...and peed all over me and the couch. Maybe she was asleep and it was the doggie version of wetting the bed or maybe it was on purpose but in any case that was freaking it for me. The couch is vinyl and had a sheet on it anyhow so no big deal there but I decided after my shower that I was All Done with today.

Which is the best kind of self care as I don't think sitting around watching others drink (again) was really going to be good for me anyhow: I would have gotten as grumpy or more so than last night and that's no way to be. This is better. Blankets, a book...all good.

Day 189

Up and down day.

Work calm; home not. Wasn't even present for any of the chaos but got to hear about it all evening just the same. Got good and tired of it but have made it safely to bed and tomorrow is a whole new day. No cravings at all. Still eating too much and walking to Little but decided to cut myself slack till Spouse & Eldest are back in the other house.

And so it goes.

Day 188 - US Thanksgiving

Not even noon yet and I'm escaping into the blogosphere after having just purchased more booze for the family.  When I called the liquor store at 10:20 the owner answered and said they'd be open till 5 then closed for dinner from 5 to 7 then open again from 7 to 9.  After telling the family along with "so you're set" I thought "wow, they really know this holiday, don't they?"

Eldest has gin in the house - she's the only one who drinks it - and at 8:30 this morning I had a brief romanticized image of sipping some on the rocks with club soda and lime for that burny-on-empty-stomach rush...but I got over it. Reminded myself that morning drinking -never- had a good outcome ever-ever-ever and that I needed my wits about me for the visit of Lursa and B'etor later in the day.

It's gonna be a tense day though; rest of family already edgy, Eldest is needlessly stressed over the food prep and of course drinking has begun. However I got a somewhat surprising burst of support from the family as I was preparing to go get the libations: they were teasing about "except for Mom...she's the -determined- Designated Driver" and I said something about "these past couple days have been pretty hard" and Spouse said "oh I wouldn't let you even if you wanted to right now; I'd knock the drink out of your hand.  I'm so proud and envious of you" and I said "well, today is Day 188 and I'm not about to mess that up--I really want to get past where I did last time" and Eldest cut in to say "that's really pretty amazing, Mom. There are people who go to AA and do the chips and everything and they don't get that far."  Then I shared that what I really wanted was a whole year which was May 21 and got more support including "...and we'll stop making fun of you.  For that anyway." 

I count that as a pretty big win.

Also decided what my 6-month treat would be: new undies. Nothing fancy or exotic or exciting but I had let my current stuff get on the ratty side and realized "hey, you're _fifty_ now and that's old enough that you never know if something will happen healthwise so you never know....and maybe that sounds a bit morbid but back in my twenties I -did- have an accident with a rat water bottle and ended up getting a nerve repaired in my thumb with what *I* thought would be local and a sedative but which turned out to be I went to sleep in one hospital johnny and woke up in a completely different one and yes I -had- been wearing my rattiest pair of underpants so there you are.

But I got the stuff in my Joann's Fabrics shopping cart too just to have a toy.

And now the stress has really begun because B'etor is on her way without Lursa and Eldest is going completely off the rails with the food. More later.

--Much Later--

Have just climbed under the covers thinking "we DID it!" as far as surviving turkey day with Lursa and B'etor...I mean Scylla and Charybdis...I mean my aunt-in-law and mother-in-law. Spouse ordered the Brazilian spirit Cashaca (pretend that second c has a dangly tail) and that turned out to be a smart move because MiL likkered up is easier to do business with. As mentioned, everyone else started drinking way early in the day but fortunately by the time they were to the sloppy getting on my sober nerves stage it was time to drive the old ladies home and get son in law off to work. The radio gods rewarded me on the way back with "Fanfare for the Common Man" on the classical station; that was a nice thing. Overall the day wasn't nearly as bad as everyone had made it out to be (even me) and it is OVER...with long term benefit of now having dining room and front room clean/useable again.

Sober: it's what's for dinner.

Day 187

An up-and-down day.

Morning started off on an amusing note: the sewing I did earlier in the week was a scrub top from turkey-print fabric available only through Jo-Ann's. Yeah, well...the very first person I saw coming the other way was wearing the exact same scrub top I was! What are the odds?!!? Well, okay, she had a chest pocket with her name machine-embroidered on it but otherwise it was the same. I said "hey I like your shirt" while pointing at mine and we had a good laugh. Turns out she has a friend who makes the tops for her as sort of a "scrubs-of-the-month" club which I think is sweet...and the friend can have way more fun with it as the woman works in Pediatrics so she can be way more whimsical. 

So that was all good as was the reception it got in my own department - everyone liked the turkey top.

Home, on the other hand, not so hot. Much drama surrounding tomorrow's supposedly-festive meal. I'm pretty sick of all the fuss and it hasn't even happened yet. Plus I had passing drinking thoughts - nothing lasting or seeming very serious but there all the same. Was tired and achy and hungry when it happened and thinking about how everyone -else- in the family was indulging but for once I had kind of -expected- to be hit with That Voice so I was able to think it right through to how lousy I would feel on multiple levels in multiple ways and how not-worth-it that would be.

I'll sure be glad for it to be All Over tomorrow evening though...that is for certain sure.

Day 186

Not great most of today.

Teared up over an article about the Thanksgiving favorites of the America's Test Kitchen staff. Got me thinking of all the vile Thanksgivings Past. Also I'm already dreading the arrival of Scilla & Charybdis (MiL & her sister) for the meal itself. Sick of the chaos. Tired of the stupid tendinitis which gets better but not -enough- better. Ate way too much junk and called it dinner. Hate fucking turkey to eat. Hate even -having- Thanksgiving with Standing Rock turning so ugly but don't dare parade that opinion around the family. Got a big dose of the supermarket just now and it was a complete zoo....I swear it doesn't even -surprise- me that Trump got in. Somewhere along the way we let Big Business take over everything and instead of putting -thought- and -effort- into fixing it we just turned up the hate another notch and got more cheap throwaway shit from third world countries. Okay nuffa that...kicking soapbox back under couch now.

Later....

Things improved from that nadir. The aspirin kicked in for one thing and I finished my top for another. Even bathed one of the dogs which is never as big a deal as overcoming the mental hurdle to just -do- it is.

I -am- thankful for stuff; it just irks me to have it all rolled up and tied to one particular holiday. One of the things for which I am thankful is the sober blogosphere. It does make a difference...a big one.

Day 185

Six month soberthday.

Not a bad day, either. Still haven't figured out, much less obtained/done/had a treat but it is definitely on the list.

Got way too hungry this evening and was awfully cranky for a while but food fixed it right up. No desire to drink and after Saturday I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything either. Spent the time from after dinner till now sewing which kept me on a different level of the house entirely and allowed me to completely ignore the drinking going on elsewhere and not start in on any kind of judgment or indignation wrapped in a thin layer of concern. Staying occupied with my own things and my own life was a good way to sidestep all that sticky stuff, emotionally speaking, that is. Live and let live (which I will forever associate with the 1980 movie Flash Gordon because Dale says it to Ming early on.)

Still with the leg, still too heavy on the carbs, still dreading the stupid turkey day...but not getting totally bent out of shape or whackadoo about any of it.

Day 184

Morning, actually. Not even nine yet.

I don't start posts in the morning because I'm still a bit superstitious of whatever the day might bring but I've had the cranky pants of late and wanted to share something right away even if it's comes off as pretty much just schadenfreude. The big winter holiday season is nigh upon us which means everyone will be pushing alcohol even more than they already do...and if holding tight to this feeling will help me maybe knowing about it will help someone else and it is this:

There is nothing quite so calming and satisfying as waking up sober after a night of alcohol-fueled emotional chaos. Nothing. Knowing you were sober the night before, that you slept a restful sleep and are now totally ready to face the new day while others around you are in varying stages of sleep and recovery...it is both a supreme endorsement of the rightness behind choosing sobriety and a humbling reminder of what could have been. It isn't "pride" in the usual sense of the word but definitely is "a complete lack of shame" which I suppose might be considered pride. In any case it is the internal from-me-to-me warm fuzzy that I didn't realize quite how badly I needed till I got it.

Plus it is Sunday morning which is always a nice time to be sober. I made biscuits for the family (just Bisquik; I'm lazy) and got them the perfect degree of done-ness...two with butter and honey have satisfied body along with soul. Hitting "save" for now.

Twelve Hours Later:

Y'know what I discovered today? A good way to get little splinters of glass off a textured linoleum floor is to use one of those lint rollers that is basically big masking tape sticky side out. Also that shoveling snow doesn't aggravate tendinitis right away but several hours later? Ohmahghawd. That's the main reason I'm in bed for the night at barely 8:30: to get the hell off that ankle/leg and get it elevated so the swelling goes down some.

Impending Thanksgiving still pretty much sucks but it is being totally handled by others. I have nominated myself Primary Beagle-Minder so as to have an excuse to be away from my unpleasant in-laws and the inevitable alcohol.

Despite fallout from last night, the weather and the stupid leg I still got everything done that I wanted to accomplish today. That always feels good. Didn't overeat -quite- as much, either. Also good.

Day 183

Gah. Cranky day.

Too many dishes, not enough attention, no particular fun to be had and my damned leg/ankle still isn't all the way better. Irritable beyond words. Eating too much categorically, eating too many  carbs specifically but staying sober. Surprisingly although I'm edgy enough to chew neutron in I don't want to _drink_...I just want a life going entirely differently right now. I -really-hate- Thanksgiving and it has turned into THE household event of the whole frigging week as Eldest is doing all the cooking (at her strong request) and is making much of it. Which I could tolerate a lot better if I didn't know I had an afternoon of my unpleasant in-laws at the end of it all.

It's only Saturday night and I'm already looking forward to Monday. Sigh.

Much Later...

Nobody ever once said "gee I really regret not getting drunk and emotional." Had an up-close reminder why this sobriety thing is better. Wish I could do more to help because I have been on the other side of the street enough to feel plenty of empathy (along with annoyance; not that noble.) Hope time and the dawn of a new day both help.

Holding on tightly to that 203 number coming up. Not quite three weeks away now.

Day 182

Rough day, emotionally speaking.

Next week is Thanksgiving and I absolutely hate Thanksgiving. Too many awful ones growing up, too many awful ones as a young adult, the history is questionable and it's not a vegetarian-friendly meal, even for us lacto-ovo types. Plus in-laws. Joy. I would so much rather order Chinese take-out and pretend I'd never heard of pilgrims. Maybe next year.

Overdid it yesterday and twisted funny this morning so the stupid leg was worse instead of better which didn't help either...and first thing tomorrow morning I have to take ABL to an appointment.

Also I feel like the only sober person on the planet. Well, in the county anyhow. Okay, fine: just the family...but it gets tiresome.

Fortunately I know to let things wash over me and through me till I can make an early bedtime of it which is exactly what I just did. Tomorrow is a whole new day.

Day 181

Moody day.

Relatively quiet at work but plenty of family drama. Getting better at at least recognizing and acknowledging my feelings even if I choose not to do anything about them. For someone who spent most of her life smothering "bad" feelings with food and booze this is still fairly big. Being able to sit  there in the same room with someone having negative feelings about them and not having a huge wave of shame/guilt while trying to get rid of the feelings is stunning. I -can- in fact think both bad -and- good feelings about the same person at the same time and that's okay. Probably normal, even.

Even now it is still hard to feel all the feelings but it gets easier bit by bit. Like the tendinitis.

Day 180

Long day.

Leg enough better for me to be mad it isn't all the way better yet. Down to intermittent aspirin instead of clockwork-regular; my platelets no doubt thank me.

Don't have a good six-month treat thought up yet but the actual six-month -day-  is the 21st so I figure I will come up with SOMEthing in the next 5 days.

The really big approaching  milestone is 203 days - I only made it to Day 202 last time. Took a lot longer to get my momentum back than I would have liked: six and a half weeks of on again/off again before finally getting back on track. Was telling Spouse just a bit ago how much I was looking forward to a whole year this time. That still seems far away though.

Day 179

Got through the day. That's enough.

Had my long-anticipated difficult meeting this afternoon and once again it was nowhere near as bad as I'd dreaded it being.

Leg definitely getting better but still annoying. Between that and some minor family drama I am completely drained. But that's what bed is for.

180 days tomorrow -- that feels like real progress.

Maybe one of these days I will finally start a post earlier in the day so that I can manage more than a few sentences before sleepiness wins.

Not tonight though.

Day 178

A better day.

Rest and steady NSAID are improving the leg. Drove home which was sad-making because it draws attention to the fact that I have a really great job in a really lousy location. However once I got home and settled things seemed less bad. Probably because the yarn for my new sweater came and turned out to be a lovely texture - nicer than the (now discontinued) stuff I used before.

It's late, I'm tired and I have a big day tomorrow so that's all for now. No urges or cravings though I believe I was a tad too harsh in the "no" part of "no, thank you" when Eldest offered the rest of a bottle of sparkling wine she and Son-in-Law had opened.

Day 177

And then it all went sour.

Still sober - fret not about that - but my left leg is amazingly sore and it is casting gloom over the entire day.

Eldest offered to come along on my walk and it was just so pleasant - walking and chatting and enjoying a beautiful day and the company. Then at -just-past- the halfway point (funnier that way of course) the lower outer part of my left leg started getting more and more sore with every step. Was okay standing still and pointing my toes but bearing weight and rolling off it were getting so painful I had to stop twice and still had a definite limp by the time we got back. Exquisitely tender to touch on the tendons about an inch above my ankle bone and stairs...oh they suck a lot.

So I'm thinking I have peroneal tendinitis and stunned by what a silly little kid response I'm having inside. Mostly over "now I have to break my walking streak, dammit!" I don't know exactly how or why the 10k-steps per-day became SO important to me but it did...so much so that I did laps around the living room the past couple nights just to hit the magic number. ( In retrospect that probably didn't help all that much what with all the plant-and-turn at the [many] corners.) Now I'm angry because I don't think I'll get past the 8k I have now and all the "but it is just a number" talk to myself isn't helping much. Not sure why I'm taking an actual freaking injury so badly but there are definitely mental voices telling me this is some kind of weakness or failure and that's kind of nutty.

Later:

A prescription-strength slug of ibuprofen and good Chinese food helped for a while...but even with the NSAID on board it still hurt to walk, amazingly so when I unexpectedly stepped on a piece of ice on the kitchen floor. I've gone from being mad to being resigned with a huge side dish of sad - this feels like the sort of thing which is gonna last at least past tomorrow which means I'm gonna be stuck dealing with it at work and I hate that but it can't be helped and now that the earlier dose of anti-inflammatory wore off I'm not even much caring as I mostly just want the pain to go away. I'm in bed for the night after taking real aspirin and a muscle relaxer -- not sure the latter will help in any way other than making me sleepy but right now that will be enough.

There was a minor family kerfuffle earlier and I burst into tears for a bit of a cry: rather unlike me but not really u expected, I guess. I was still dealing with low-level free-floating no-reason sadness -before- this damned leg thing.

No booze thoughts though, so that's good.

Here's hoping it is much better in the morning.

Day 176

Quietly good day. 

Drive to other house. Hung with family. Ate too much good food. No urges or cravings.

Day 175

Draggy day.

No motivation because I've been sad all day. Don't really know -why- but have had the Big Sad all day long. Almost weepy at points feeling like everyone else is somehow having a more/better/happier/more enjoyable life.

So after getting the gottas done I decided to go to bed at barely nine on a Friday night. BIG excitement there. But hey, I have a book and I'm driving to the other house in the morning so the sooner I get up, the sooner I can hit the road and the sooner I will be done with the driving.

Didn't want to drink but -did- get a flare of anger overhearing some mildly tipsy people when I was out today. Wasn't quite sure if it was "how dare YOU get to enjoy something I can't any more" or its more self-centered cousin "dammit why can't -I- have fun like that any more?" but it was pretty short-lived. I don't really want to go back down -that- tiring and time-consuming path; I think it was more not being happy with what I -do- have these days. However even if I can't get behind the emotional. Emerita, the physical benefits of sobriety are unarguable: lower blood pressure, better sleep, better concentration, better lipid profile - it is objectively worthwhile even when I get sulky.

Tomorrow is a whole new day. That always helps.

Day 174

Long day.

Youngest is playing Baker's Wife in the high school production of Into The Woods and tonight was opening night. It was good and she was good in it. However even though I had heard of the show I had never seen the show so it came as a surprise to have her killed just offstage partway through the second act. Glad I went, of course, but it was a -long- show: three hours including intermission.

Earlier in the day I had a serious case of resentment over nothing I could put my finger on specifically but at least that went away.

The days are piling up; soon I will be at 6 months.

Day 173

A subdued day.

Spent too much time on social media. It is definitely weird to have The Donald as our President Elect but given my FB feed I'm not all that surprised. I grew up in an auto-factory town and many of my former classmates are social media friends. Even people I thought were apolitical started coming out of the woodwork pro-Trump. I watched his acceptance speech on the computer today and noticed how somber he was and what oddly inclusive language he was using ..  it may be total denial and refusal to accept reality on my part but I'm wondering if now that he -got- the car he was chasing he might settle down.

Otherwise it was an uneventful day. Did not nearly enough work, put out some (metaphoric) fires and did the dinner/dishes thing. Finished the shorts for Youngest. Didn't drink or even think about it; that was nice.

Day 172

Election Day.

Voted on my way to work. Did my site visit and -some- of my other work but spent quite a bit of time just spinning my wheels. Now I've deliberately wandered away from CNN to bed -- there IS news to be heard but they are milking the uncertainty for all it is worth and I had a gutfull as my grandmother used to say.

Didn't drink...didn't even have the urge to drink despite being in a liquor store earlier this evening. Thought that would've hard but it was just "nah, none of this is for me any more." Totally -did- overdo on the starches and sugars today but that was a planned thing: with traveling and a fair bit of work on top of gee-it's-finally-here election weirdness I figured I should allow myself to fall back on more munching than usual.

And now to bed. Election results can go on without me.

Day 171

Not a great day.

Woke up fine - well, okay, woke up an hour too early then dozed till more or less time to get up thank you daylight savings time - but then crashed by lunchtime. Chest gunky, tired masquerading as sad, no concentration and oversensitive. Didn't get as much work done as I wanted although double-strength tea did help.

The thing which drove me nuts though was this: bought a roll of ribbon to use as the drawstring for the pajama bottoms I'm making for Youngest. Had it yesterday, set it on the sewing table. Tonight when I was ready for it...POOF! Gone. Went -nuts- looking for it. No use. That was when I decided to be done sewing for the night. Was getting irrationally worked up over the whole thing. Either it will turn up or it won't and I can always make a drawstring out of the fabric even if that -is- a bigger pain in the ass.

Still getting my steps in although today I did it in several shorter bursts instead of one long one and for a while this afternoon I really thought I might not make it...but I didn't want to break the streak or lose my momentum. Gee, I wonder where I've heard that before? :)

Anyhow I'm calling it quits on the day...early to bed means maybe I can sleep off the chest cruddiness. Gotta go vote on the way into work tomorrow.

Day 170

"Fall back" day.

Yes, the change for daylight savings time was today so it is 8:40 and I'm in bed for the night. Feels like -ten- forty rather than nine forty like you'd think it ought. Probably because completely-effing-DARK by 5:30 was a shock to the system. Having light in the early morning was nice but it will probably take every bit of a week to get used to this dark nonsense.

In any case I got all my stuff done including a walk - in a new direction for a change: uphill the whole way out but that meant downhill the whole way back. Did some sewing, ordered the yarn for my red sweater and started a crocheted lap blanket using random numbers to decide which of the colors in the set I grabbed from stash will come next. I'm kind of stunned that I've got - and am planning on keeping - one each of sewing, knitting and crochet projects going on...haven't had this much creative drive in I-can't-remember-when. It may not last but I'm enjoying it while it does.

But not any more today as I am bushed.

Day 169 and a fraction

Otherwise known as Sunday morning. The internet went down last night and I didn't feel like getting out of bed to troubleshoot. So this is what I wrote but didn't post:

Day 169

A strange but overall good day.

Woke in the wee small hours from -terrible- nightmare about abusive long-dead relative but got back to sleep right away.

Spent all freaking morning taking fancy car to fancy car dealership for routine service. Wore a sweater I made probably a decade ago which I recently unearthed -- I had gotten too fat to wear it but now I can again and I felt perfectly comfortable both physically and socio-emotionally. Decided to make myself another one only in bright red. Overcoming the sewing phobia seems to also include overcoming decades of my fashion statement being "camouflage." Figure if I'm makin' comfy yet stylish-to-me scrubs I can do the same with sweaters for tips as they are a step dressier than sweatshirts/t-shirts. The sobriety and turning fifty seem to be triggering a phase of working through birth-family shit...I feel like my head is readjusting itself to a better way of being.

Worked on a pair of long shorts/short pajama bottoms for Youngest today - the fabric is a leftover from when my mother made her a comforter. I was pleased at how all the Sewing Stuff is coming back to me but even more pleased that I knew to _stop_ when I started feeling tired. 

Had plenty of pissed-off-ness too...not trying by -any- stretch of the imagination to imply I've somehow become enlightened or anything. A little less muddled, maybe. Was so sick of driving in dreary rural middle-of-nowhere by the time I got home at midday I was very snappish (and hungry didn't help either.) Spilled my tea not just once but twice today and got intermittently irritated by most, if not all, my family members. So it's a process...but one I doubt I'd be doing if I were still in that poor sleep/recover/fight guilt/repeat cycle. 

Not that I'm -trying- to do any particular personal growth or anything...it seems to just be sort of happening but I'll certainly take it.