tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38871907461229168992024-03-08T07:09:23.268-08:00S Is For...SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.comBlogger1027125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-78503788581178235712022-02-26T13:57:00.002-08:002022-02-26T13:57:50.000-08:00LONG Time No Post<p> ...but yes, even though Life kept Happening all around me in a big way, I have maintained continuous sobriety for what will be 6 years on this coming May 21. Here's the TL;DR version of the past couple years:</p><p>Marriage dead: corpse disposal yet to be determined.</p><p><br /></p><p>THE WHY</p><p>February 16, 2022. A Wednesday. Not yet noon. </p><p>I had just come back from my post-op visit [carcinoid tumors of the small intestine] and discovered I didn't need ANY kind of follow-up treatment. Smartest oncologist I know had weighed in and said no need for Octreotide. Let out a huge breath I hadn't even known I'd been holding. Even though I knew it was a daily shot and not what we all think when we hear that word, "no chemo" is still fantastic news. I had shared the "clean bill of health" with my friend group and to both social media platforms. In the six miles from MyHospital home, the praise and kind words and exclamation points were nonstop. LOTS of hearts and flowers emoticons. To quote Billy Joel, "the cowboys and their kin, like the sea came pouring in." </p><p>I knew Spouse wouldn't be like -that- because he was too drinksick. I was a little surprised he hadn't managed to even get out of bed to the master-suite doorway for my big return but not very. So (after mentally preparing myself - remember he was here "to help you the way you helped me" [after liver transplant on July 19, 2019 and with broken arm for most of it]) I went upstairs into the bedroom, saw him lying there on the bed, and told him the good news. Weak, polite smile. "Great!"</p><p>That was it. No further words on his part about my illness, period. About me at all, actually. </p><p>Well. </p><p>Lotta stuff to accept right there and I really tried. Thought "he will get back to it when he's feeling better." After all, each kid had found a way to INITIATE conversation via voice or text to say "I'm REALLY glad you don't need chemo." I mean not a Big Deal kind of thing just one clearly deeply felt sentence. Figured he'd do likewise. </p><p>Yeah, well.</p><p>I asked how he was, got the litany about how his arm hurt his feet hurt and he overdrinks so he feels lousy generally. </p><p>But then he said the following:</p><p>"In a little bit I'm going to take a shower and I want you to sit and wait right there (gesturing to extra computer chair) so in case I fall or something you can come help me. I mean I can't depend on Eldest"</p><p>I stood there, just absorbing that with its command form and lack of please and total assumption of affirmative response plus insult to own favorite child, and he began to do the "...I mean if it's OKAY with you..." crap so I said lightly and with no anger just professional cheer "yes, I'll stay here while you shower just let me know when" and left as quickly as I could. He emerged later with wet hair having NOT asked me after all so perhaps he overheard the exasperated sigh on far side of gently-closed door.</p><p>That was it. Right then. Hand still on doorknob.</p><p>Done. Out. Nope, no more, doesn't work, doesn't matter. Just DONE. I mentally explored "and what if he _does_ get his shit together and is sober and truly does the work and -properly- repentant?" and decided "not about to kick -anyone- when already down but even THEN I want out. OUT." </p><p>I mean. </p><p>Way back in the end of January he started carrying on about "coming up there [to the Hinterlands of NY from the Pinelands of NJ] so I can take care of you the way you took care of me" and I started trying to figure out some Serious Diplomacy. However I couldn't come up with a tactful way to SAY "...are you KIDDING me?!? Not no but FUCK no you will be way more harm than good! Help like that I DO NOT need!!!" and since Eldest had her own reasons for wanting to come up, he had willing wheels. "Jokingly" reminded me it was half his house too, so fine whatever. They were coming on Feb 1 the day before my surgery. HIS dog, the 27-lb beagle travels with him which was actually the best part of this whole sorry plan because she and I have a lot to bond over these days and really get along. Silver lining. </p><p>Yeah, well.</p><p>Sometime more than one but less than five days before arrival, he said "...and you realize of course BoyDog will be coming too."</p><p>This is one of his more annyoing conversational tactics: the "you realize [thing he knows damned well you aren't gonna like but CAN'T 'realize' because you haven't -heard- it yet]" method. It is one of many employed to deny choice. Anyhow, BoyDog is a teenie-weenie-beagle-inie. Twelve pounds, cute as a button, sweet and smart and runs cat software half the time. He's also an intact male who marks everything in sight because Divine was right "always the little ones got somethin' to prove." I had been quite explicit in my specific desire he stay _In_The_Pinelands_ for my post-operative state, multiple times...and yet he had urinated on my bed the night before I went in for surgery. Fancy that. </p><p>Sometime more than three but less than six days after my surgery he asked me to drive him to the liquor store. (I wasn't on narcotics so I did.) By the one-week mark - POD #8 - he was ServePro about my gastric neuroendocrine carcinoma diagnosis: as if it never happened. </p><p>Well.</p><p>As mentioned, I don't further hurt already-sick people so now that he's the FUCK back in the NJ house I'm not doing anything in particular any time soon other than taking off my ring. He had for a while after a "beyond repair?/I don't know" discussion on 2/17 tapered down to just a pint plus two or three minis (everyone else in the world calls them "shooters") but I hear that's gone by the wayside, at least temporarily. I also don't particularly WANT to cough up a 5k retainer or make him go on MedicAid either so I'm hoping that instead of "legal divorce" we can have "sensible arrangement." And I did promise to do a travel thing I said I'd honor regardless, although I'm secretly hoping he won't hold me to it. </p><p>But it's over, baby. Whether HE knows it or not. </p><p><br /></p><p>THE HOW</p><p>Okay. Summer of 1986. The Challenger and Chernobyl still big in everyone's brains. Oprah Winfrey had JUST shifted from Chicago to national, Phantom of the Opera debuted as a musical, Mir (the one that crashed but 9/11 blew its doors off) launched and I had seen Halley's Comet. </p><p>I had also in a surprising burst of independence, switched majors from microbiology to psychology and was taking second summer session second-semester psych to catch up. Because I HAD to be on the IUPUI campus for second semester and you paid by the whole summer (even then, price-gouging) I took a drafting class [CAD/CAM was brand new people mostly DREW blueprints] and had scored a job DOING it so I had money. Drafting paid 3x per hour more than any job I'd had to that point and it was inside, sitting down in air conditioning. Color ME hooked on higher education. </p><p>I also had That Fucking Guy starting up the letters again (no, not email, actual pen/paper/envelope/stamp) writing all witty and nominally sorry and such. He was definitely the most interesting guy in my life even if he HAD shit all over me twice for Thanksgiving, second time worse. Also, despite climbing hard almost every day for two solid years, I still had below-zero self-esteem. So instead of "you asshole" I thought "hm." I was already looking toward pairbonding and knew the one thing I would NOT be able to handle was "bored." Yes, you may laugh freely now. </p><p>Anyhow because of the HUGE "interesting" factor outweighing all others, he moved higher in the (really dismal) ranks. But I knew (not in these words of course; language has improved) that he was presenting me a hugely curated version of himself. Ferpitysake I hadn't even met his parents and the guy whom I blew to avoid being date-raped had taken me to his grandmother's house months prior. I knew a chunk of that nice summer job had to go toward plane tickets so I could see TFGuy in his Native Habitat before deciding if I really DID want one. </p><p>I also knew that my mother would Have A FIT over that so in another surprising burst of independence I maneuvered around her. First, I secured a ride to/from airport with my four-years younger BFF at the time. Back then, you bought airline tickets either from a travel agent or at the airport or the airline mailed them to your home address in advance. WAY advance. Travel agents took a cut big enough to rent office space, so I secured a second ride right away to/from same airport for tickets. On way home from airport I had BFF drive me to my mother's place of employment for a surprise visit. I'd done that once in a while over the years infrequently and it was always well-received. Told her there and got out fast. By the time she got home some 5-6 hours later she'd calmed down enough we could be polite about "...well you're marrying Princess Lucky so you better get used to it" despite how much she wanted to effing sing at me. Evening ended with her asking me if she could, possibly, drive me to the airport instead of BFF. Please. She would really like to. Yeah, fine I let her; I didn't really wanna pay for another round of gas money ($0.89/gal, btw.)</p><p>"Skip a bit, Father"</p><p>So. Brick apartment complex, concrete flooring, first-floor doorway. Door opens inward to my left, hinges on my right. Standing within and then aside to let us pass is RoomMate. Let me now describe to the best of my ability and memory. My eyes downcast, I saw bottom of a dirty white door expanding onto filthy tan shag carpeting and feet.</p><p>Feet in shiny black boots with a heel and zippers up the sides I haven't seen those since my father got divorced wow I didn't know anyone even still wore them. Tucked under hem of black polyester doubleknit pants like male teachers and office workers wear shit that's dressy am I gonna be okay here probably I am because he's wearing a long sleeved crew neck black T-shirt knit pullover (no chest pocket) and that's when I see oval face long gold hair to his shoulders exact same style as mine but damn his is way thicker. When I was busy falling in love with him I said Cary Elwes but I saw a picture of the young David Gilmour in Rolling Stone well before movie and it was a far better fit. First time I saw cover of Excitable Boy (Warren Zevon) I about dropped the glass I was holding; did rattle the ice. [Just looked at that cover again and the double-take still holds scary-well; NOT gonna play title track.] Wide-mouthed smile like Tim Curry but not showing any teeth whatsoever THAT I can get behind..."Hello." </p><p>First thing he says after "here she is" from my driver is an apology for TFGuy not being there with genuine disgust/scorn/negativeanyhow that he wasn't. I respond "Hey, I freely admit I invited myself out here so I deserve whatever I get." Would like to say between previous "I" and "invited" I added "committed a big social faux pas and" because I know I did OFTEN when retelling but I might've embellished it in afterwards. Yes, a world in which I told stories, fancy that. He clearly thought that was still no excuse or validation for TFGuy's behavior. Interesting at the time; never even considered that perspective. File THAT away to ponder. Anyway the second thing very close on heels of first is "please don't touch that light switch; it's keeping that computer running." I glance down, see a TRS80 model 4 exactly like the one my mother's first good boss sent home with each of his employees to learn how to use at night so they could use the one he'd just had installed in the office. She was second after his Number One; I thought that was cool beans at the time and meant she rated. As I'm writing today I'm wondering if maybe he knew her smart bored kid would like it too. RIP Harvey. Anyway.</p><p>In response to my curious look, he said "It's running a program to see how long it will take monkeys to write Shakespeare."</p><p>He couldn't have had me at "hello," but after "eare" it was definitely up for grabs. </p><p>And that is how we met. </p><div><br /></div><div>THE WHEN</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Saturday February 26, 2022, 12:30.</div><div><br /></div><div>He called to tell me that Eldest had just left on her way up to NY. Solo. This was 24 hours earlier and one person less than I expected -- as of late Friday night 2/25 she and her husband were both coming up on Sunday afternoon/evening. But I said "okay, that's fine" and rolled with it. He was cheerful. No, _chipper_. As in Top o' the mornin' to you because I topped up IN the morning...ah, fuck the cute; he was audibly inebriated but not yet shitty. </div><div><br /></div><div>So we chitchat a bit about this and that including what he'd been eating and him being down there where the good food was and that's how I slid into talking about two houses. </div><div><br /></div><div>He said something snarky about not wanting to come up and I said without even missing a beat that was fine I didn't want to have him which from the depth of the silence through the phone meant that I'd made my point even though he just came right back with one of his stock "let's verbally argue" phrases like "oh...you want to PLAY" or "oh here it comes" or somedamnedthing.</div><div><br /></div><div>But just said quite calmly:</div><div><br /></div><div>No. You came up here and I thought your behavior was sh--- Well, no. [anecdote about my own bad drunken behavior in the past with punchline of his beloved grandmother saying to me "Wash your face; you're too pretty to hide." ]</div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh. Okay, fine I know hate when I hear it."</div><div><br /></div><div>"This isn't hate."</div><div><br /></div><div>"OH yes it is whether -you- know it or not." </div><div><br /></div><div>[cross now but patiently cross like a tired kindergarten teacher] "No. This is anger and disgust and contempt but those are three completely DIFFERENT emotions from hate."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Oooh. 'disgust.'" [quiet, seemingly snarky but I'm thinking "I sank your battleship." Yes with just a period, no joy in Mudville.] </div><div><br /></div><div>"...and despite all the love under there I still think you made a really shameful showing these past three weeks and I don't want any part of it." [words about you do your thing I'll do mine nothing changing for at least next 6 months but no more living together long term.]</div><div><br /></div><div>R: "Okay, ENDORA" [clearly trying to be humorous] [I paused a minute then the lightbulb went on and I said, with a noticeable bit of her accent]</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh EXCELLENT, Maurice! I am so glad we have come to this Fine Arrangement! </div><div><br /></div><div>After that he wanted off the phone in a fair hurry. So fine, I don't mind. I'm still happy I got it out in the open so easily and quickly. Go out in hall, start telling Youngest what happened. Then the TEXTing starts. He's using Siri so I know this is because he is planning to get Way More Drunk but wants a written record so that when he DOES eventually sober up he can see what the fuck his dumb drunk ass did. </div><div><br /></div><div>13:01 pm EST: </div><div><br /></div><div>R: Why so nasty? I am sober, you know. Eldest can confirm for you since the pint was still in the freezer before she left. I'm only now opening it.</div><div><br /></div><div>[I'm standing there thinking and then saying out loud "yeah that's because you already had some stashed elsewhere earlier I heard it in your voice" but what I text back is]</div><div><br /></div><div>I was not nasty at all. Merely truthful. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ouch. I understand now. </div><div><br /></div><div>Even if you ARE sober I still don't want to live with you right now. Let's see what things are like in 6 months. I have finance and taxes so nothing needs to change at all except that. Told you I would honor Monterrey and I will. </div><div><br /></div><div>R: What about finance and taxes I did not understand that last sentence</div><div><br /></div><div>I meant that I will do the taxes - probably tomorrow, definitely this week - so that refund comes. And that I will continue to do Finance as I have been doing. My hope is that with time and space you can figure out who it is you are now that you were given 2nd chance. Past 2.5 years ain't it. Became painfully obvious over past 30 days.</div><div><br /></div><div>R: How noble of you.</div><div><br /></div><div>It isn't noble. It is "put your own oxygen mask on first." for both of us.</div><div><br /></div><div>R: Well, here's hoping.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes. The love is all still there but I can't keep doing this live under same roof thing. Sorry. </div><div><br /></div><div>That was at just past 13:00 EST on Saturday 2/26 and he has been in radio silence ever since. That's fine. I have no idea what his next move will be but my money is on "knowing a good deal when he sees it" so I expect a lot of snark but actual acceptance of my terms. I could be wildly wrong, of course. Either way, the First Emotional Bank of Samantha has cut off his credit and called in the slips. </div><div><br /></div><div>I also, this morning, heard a live cover of "Daydream Believer" by the author which included a spin on the refrain that had me laughing out loud. The Universe is larger than we know or can know. </div><div><br /></div><div>Don't be sad! I feel better than in ages!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I told someone "I would rather live as a hermit or in an Amish community forever more than under the same roof with him and all his tech." </div><div><br /></div><div>And that can finally happen. Now I'm working on who in the heck it is ** I ** am after all this time. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-30474568770927805702020-10-14T19:30:00.001-07:002020-10-14T19:30:27.468-07:00Day 1608<p> Hello, everybody!</p><p>Still sober. Continuously. Usually I don’t even think about it; that’s why I don’t blog. </p><p>Lately it’s been harder; not gonna lie. I don’t think I’m -seriously- tempted — not if it means giving up four _years_ — but boy I’ve felt the pull more in recent days. </p><p>I think it’s just cumulative: COVID, major corporate re-org at work, winter coming...so I’m doing even more self care. You all do some too; it never hurts. </p><p>Peace out,</p><p>S</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-67869818675197048162020-05-21T07:17:00.003-07:002020-05-21T07:17:42.973-07:00Four Years -- For Real!It's my soberversary! 1462 days. <br />
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Wow.<br />
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Back when I first started my current job, so probably more than 15 years ago now, a co-worker was quietly celebrating HER four-year soberversary and I remember thinking that was both impressive and stunningly unattainable.<br />
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Yet here I am.<br />
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Me, of all people...someone who started thinking "gee I ought to quit drinking; it would probably be really good for me" back in my twenties. Yeah, well, it took a couple decades but I got here and it's a good place to be.<br />
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It's hard at first - really hard, not gonna lie - but every passing day makes it that much easier to keep going. Now it's just part of who I am rather than A Big Thing.<br />
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In fact, it's so much a part of the background that I'm not doing that much to celebrate: grocery-store bakery cake because of tradition. Thanks to COVID even though I shopped fancy cakes and Jeni ice cream and a couple online clothing stores I just didn't feel comfortable dropping much coin during a time of such economic uncertainty. My job itself is safe - praise be - but the possibility of pay cut is always still a thing so it feels more wrong to spend money than to save it and quietly enjoy this major milestone on my own.<br />
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Because really, it's all about the struggle in my head just like it's all about the struggle in your head(s.)<br />
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For sure this is the best thing I've done for my physical and emotional well-being ever. Hands down. No contest. Everything else pales beside it.<br />
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I do have one nice treat: my dear friend - the one so dear I call her my sister - sent me a top I thought for sure would be way too small and not only does it fit but it looks fantastic on me so I'm wearing that today. Still shut up in my office most of the time same as every other day but knowing I look great is the perfect accent for this day, I think.<br />
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For my handful of regular followers, the Zoloft is doing its job. Everything is still just as grim as it was but I'm not crying or raging over it any more and seem to be much closer to what I consider my emotional baseline. The increasingly complicated things my healthcare system in general and my department in particular are having to do for Covid are annoying but tolerable as opposed to devastatingly upsetting and that's a major win.<br />
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Wherever you are on your own journey, keep at it. Eventually it sticks.<br />
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Love to all.<br />
<br />SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-43434685231157261242020-04-21T19:18:00.002-07:002020-04-21T19:18:42.240-07:00Day 1432<br />
1432 saw birth of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghent_Altarpiece" target="_blank">Ghent Altarpiece</a> and death of a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Janus_of_Cyprus" target="_blank">Cypriot king</a>. It's also a month to the day till my four-year soberversary.<br />
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Blogfriends it's been rough. Not the sobriety; all the rest of it. This virus has brought out the "People Gonna People" in everybody and I'm too emotionally fragile from the year I just had to be very good at dealing with any of it. Which is why I electronically asked my primary care doc about a referral to a head doc. I kinda knew I needed help getting to a better place but the final trigger was one of those dumb online quizzes where I scored an eight of eight and thought "maybe I should stop waiting to see if it gets better on its own." Rest of family visibly relieved; that was interesting. So now I'm waiting to hear back which can take up to three days which tomorrow will be so I will re-send or something on Thursday if I haven't heard.<br />
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I'm still mostly functional just not very happy. But I'm working on changing that.<br />
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I'm so glad I got sober first. And until I typed it for you guys up there it didn't even register that today was the one-month-before...so it's good I wrote a blog post. I remember when each month was a huge milestone and I just couldn't even <u>think</u> of being where I am right now. The idea that the whole front-and-center of it all would just....go away...would have blown my mind. Completely. And that's totally okay because we can only do what we can do right now.<br />
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It gets better but it takes a while to get really good. Keep chipping away at it. All of it is a learning experience. And times like right now? It's really sucking but damn at least I know it's not really sucking because of the booze, y'know? And I know how much -worse- it would suck with booze on board along with everything else. So there's that. Even now, feeling pretty crap, it's absolutely a given that sober crap is better.<br />
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Early bedtime always helps. Peace out, y'all. SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-23512935201685013262020-04-11T12:55:00.002-07:002020-04-11T12:55:56.633-07:00Day Fourteen Something ...hang on, I'm looking: Day 1422. Another couple months and it will be Columbus Year. <br />
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The actual year 1422 was pretty weird too - Hundred Years War and Crusades still in play but at the end of August King Henry 5th of England died then on my mother's birthday King Charles 6th of France died.<br />
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And I'm totally distracting myself from the issue at hand which is namely I feel miserable. Time of Pandemic was one too many things in my already full life. I find myself full of rage with sadness stuffed in the chinks. For days on end. It's like this virus has ripped the thin veneer of "nice; mostly civilized" off of -everything- and left all the ugly open to air out. I see it catalyzing pre-existing dividing lines and creating new ones and it's just so TIRESOME as in soul-grindingly wearying. People keep debating what is or isn't best and this is just at my micro level; I stopped watching television generally and TV news specifically years ago.<br />
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The trouble is, as I said last time, people gonna people....and now way too many everybodys have to jockey for position about what the right thing actually is, and what they should do to promote their OWN causes and the slope from noble to base just gets steeper every day. And yes of course we should do the things that keep the most people safe but even just what we've already -done- is going to make this year really freaking suck no matter how you look at it and I just got DONE with a year of more than my fair share of "suck" by any reasonable standards so I'm especially bitter and sad right now. And the fact that so many people have called me their "rock" over the years, and the fact that I AM generally really emotionally strong, both make it that much more anger-inducing because nobody's used to ME being sad so they tend not to know what to do with it.<br />
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And that's fair since I don't know what to do with myself either. Going for a walk helped somewhat as at least I was a well-exercised depressive so I had a side of "accomplishment" with my sad; the other side of that was cleaning the bathroom. However my Zoom-based knitgroup was a little more than I could handle so I bowed out after an hour. There's another Zoom-based social thing tonight I might try....or I might not. I"m having a super hard time with "cordial" just now. Might do what I've -been- doing which is World of Warcraft Classic either with or without familiy members. And knitting. Virtual destruction and actual creation; I guess that's as good a way to maintain sanity - or attempt to do so - as any. But I still cry seemingly out of the blue and my outlook is definitely way more Eeyore than Pooh for sure. SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-87507968581395227382020-04-01T15:18:00.000-07:002020-04-01T15:18:01.059-07:00Day 1412Yes, Blogfriends I'm still here and still sober...but boy am I sick of 2020. Y'all are too, no doubt.<br />
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Lamott" target="_blank"><br /></a>
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Lamott" target="_blank">Anne Lamott</a> often says "Grace bats last" and I sure hope she's right. Love is bigger than hate but chaos ultimately wins over order. In Time of Pandemic I have realized and keep realizing that people gonna people. BOY are people gonna people. It hasn't hit our area much yet - our first local positive case was on March 11 and we're still in the mid two-digit figures which means as of this writing nobody in my immediate circle -- family, friends, close co-workers -- has displayed symptoms of or tested positive for COVID19. I am, of course, grateful for this. Very.<br />
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However that doesn't knock a thing off the university. [family lexicon; <a href="https://www.moviequotedb.com/movies/raising-arizona.html" target="_blank">source</a>]<br />
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The whole rest of my life is full of stuff. Just full. It's been fucking hard as hell for a really long time and I'm really sick of it but there's nothing for it but to keep on living through it. Which I am just so glad to be doing without having to think so much about booze the way I used to.<br />
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Oh which reminds me: "food <i>and beverage</i>" is the magic phrase keeping liquor stores open in my state. Convenience stores - where the nicotine products are sold - fall under "food" and often "gas" so they're okay too. And praise be they are -- can you imagine the other way?!? Oh. My. Not good.<br />
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But I am SOOOooooo grateful not to have to fuck around with any of that shit or especially its side effects. I'm sleeping poorly as-is; like I needed the three ayem dehydrated thing too? This is better.<br />
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Stay strong...yes I'm telling myself as much as all you fine people. SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-13985866625662289682020-02-05T07:17:00.000-08:002020-02-05T07:17:28.450-08:00Day 1356Oh Blogfriends I know it's been quite a while because life just keeps coming at me hard.<br />
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But I've reached the number of sober days where it starts looking more recognizeably like a date-- I looked up the year 1356 and this is what we have:<br />
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<ul><h2>
<span class="mw-headline" id="Events">Events</span></h2>
<h3>
<span id="January.E2.80.93December"></span><span class="mw-headline" id="January–December">January–December</span></h3>
<ul>
<li><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/January_20" title="January 20">January 20</a> – <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Balliol" title="Edward Balliol">Edward Balliol</a> surrenders his title as King of Scotland, to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_III_of_England" title="Edward III of England">Edward III of England</a>.</li>
<li><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/September_19" title="September 19">September 19</a> – <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hundred_Years%27_War" title="Hundred Years' War">Hundred Years' War</a> – <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Poitiers" title="Battle of Poitiers">Battle of Poitiers</a>: The English, commanded by <a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward,_the_Black_Prince" title="Edward, the Black Prince">Edward, the Black Prince</a>, defeat the French, capturing King <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_II_of_France" title="John II of France">John II of France</a>.</li>
<li><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/October_17" title="October 17">October 17</a> – <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eric_XII_of_Sweden" title="Eric XII of Sweden">Erik XII</a> proclaims himself king of Sweden, in opposition to his father, King <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnus_IV_of_Sweden" title="Magnus IV of Sweden">Magnus IV</a>. Thus begins a civil war in Sweden between father and son, which will last until Erik's death in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1359" title="1359">1359</a>.</li>
<li><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/October_18" title="October 18">October 18</a> (St Luke's Day) – The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1356_Basel_earthquake" title="1356 Basel earthquake">Basel earthquake</a> affects northern <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Swiss_Confederacy" title="Old Swiss Confederacy">Switzerland</a>, with a maximum <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medvedev%E2%80%93Sponheuer%E2%80%93Karnik_scale" title="Medvedev–Sponheuer–Karnik scale">MSK</a> intensity of IX–X (<i>Destructive–Devastating</i>), leaving around 1,000 dead.</li>
<li><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/December_25" title="December 25">December 25</a> – <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_IV,_Holy_Roman_Emperor" title="Charles IV, Holy Roman Emperor">Charles IV, Holy Roman Emperor</a>, promulgates the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Bull_of_1356" title="Golden Bull of 1356">Golden Bull</a>, a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constitution" title="Constitution">constitution</a> for <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holy_Roman_Empire" title="Holy Roman Empire">his empire</a>.</li>
</ul>
<h3>
<span class="mw-headline" id="Date_unknown">Date unknown</span></h3>
<li>The city of <a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lw%C3%B3w" title="Lwów">Lwów</a> is granted <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magdeburg_rights" title="Magdeburg rights">Magdeburg rights</a> by <a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casimir_III_of_Poland" title="Casimir III of Poland">Casimir III of Poland</a>.</li>
<li>The majority of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Pyramid_of_Giza" title="Great Pyramid of Giza">Great Pyramid of Giza</a>'s limestone casing stones are removed by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bahri_dynasty" title="Bahri dynasty">Bahri Sultan</a> An-Nasir Nasir-ad-Din al-Hasan, to build <a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fortress" title="Fortress">fortresses</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mosque" title="Mosque">mosques</a> in the nearby city of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cairo" title="Cairo">Cairo</a>, leaving the first of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Wonders_of_the_Ancient_World" title="Seven Wonders of the Ancient World">Seven Wonders of the Ancient World</a> in the step-stone condition in which it remains today.</li>
<li>Burnt Candlemas: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_III_of_England" title="Edward III of England">Edward III of England</a> burns down every town and village in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lothian" title="Lothian">Lothian</a>, Scotland.</li>
<li>The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanseatic_League" title="Hanseatic League">Hanseatic League</a>, a trading alliance between many cities in northern Europe, is officially founded.</li>
<li>Ghazan II replaces <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anushirwan" title="Anushirwan">Anushirwan</a>, as ruler of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ilkhanate" title="Ilkhanate">Ilkhanate</a> in <a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Persia" title="Persia">Persia</a>.</li>
<li><a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zhu_Yuanzhang" title="Zhu Yuanzhang">Zhu Yuanzhang</a>, one of the leaders in the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Turban_Rebellion" title="Red Turban Rebellion">Red Turban Rebellion</a>, captures the city of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nanjing" title="Nanjing">Nanjing</a> from the <a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mongol" title="Mongol">Mongol</a>-led <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yuan_dynasty" title="Yuan dynasty">Yuan dynasty</a> in China; from then on it becomes his base of power, and the capital of a new dynasty he will establish in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1368" title="1368">1368</a>, the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ming_dynasty" title="Ming dynasty">Ming dynasty</a>.</li>
</ul>
<br />
Of those the Battle of Poitiers is the only one I'd ever even remotely heard of and that was pretty darned remotely.<br />
<br />
Anyhow back to mememememe me. I'm tired. I have the day off because in a little while I'll be driving Spouse to his six-months-post-transplant visit three hours away and we both have come to dread the six hours of car time for at most ninety minutes of total non-car time and that's being very generous usually it's just under an hour. We've already had one episode of Youngest Duckling deciding to stop taking the med for a while and now that she's back on them she doesn't like her flat affect so there's angst there and I'm offering a therapist's ear....the problems are different for Eldest but more therapist ear there too and of course this is all while working full time.<br />
<br />
And now that Spouse is in NY for this clinic visit we're back up to three dogs again. It's A Real Lot. Just all the time there's -something- y'know? I dunno how the fuck I could even dream of beginning to manage all of it if I were still drinking so I'm grateful all over again every day that I'm not.<br />
<br />
And sure the thought has been there now and again but there's two things staying my hand: 1) It just doesn't fucking help. I've done that experiment a million times and although in the short term it's blissful "short term" is only about ninety minutes tops and then it's all downhill and 2) then I'd have shame on top of every OTHER problem. No thanks. Easier to just NOT do a thing. Well and now it's got momentum of its own.<br />
<br />Enough so that somehow I've become the family substance guru and my biggest advice is always this: I would never dream of telling anyone else how to handle their substances since I had such a terrible time with my own for so long. Also nobody will ever hear even the kindest words till they want to hear them.<br />
<br />
I had a wonderful little overnight to meet a friend and visit the biggest yarn store in this part of my country Sunday into Monday. Bought a ton of yarn, almost all of it half off. That was great but also sadly brings into even sharper contrast just how Not Calm my regular life is. Theoretically things will get better and I hope that actually proves to be true.<br />
<br />
Keep at it. Whatever it is.<br />
<br />
Peace out. SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-89838317595360675732020-01-05T05:07:00.001-08:002020-01-05T05:07:55.529-08:00Day 1325<span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 27px;">An Interlude - not MY family at all for a change! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 27px;"><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;" /></span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">Yesterday I had to go to a viewing. One of my favorite tech’s husband. I made the diagnosis right around Christmas off malignant ascites fluid. Bad adenocarcinoma with skin mets at presentation. Unknown primary - there was a lung nodule but nobody needled it and colonoscopy was negative.. Doesn’t really matter where it’s started as he died within a week or ten days. Little suffering. </span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">On Friday I got a panicked call from his doc who is a Glamour Girl I’ve never really liked all that much - either internal medicine or FP but quick got involved in the information system stuff because doesn’t like grunt work. Smart but not -as- smart as her elegant good looks have everyone convinced she is (yeah that’s probably some of my own ugly showing.) Anyhow she said his widow wanted to know where the cancer started and asked her to call back and she was clearly nervous. So I calmed her down. Soothing words and tone. I said we’d never know for sure but given the whole picture probably pancreas. Which is a good thing to tell The Lay People anyhow as “pancreas bad” is part of the communal gestalt. So fine she wanted to babble on phone about how she kept suggesting he get this or that but he didn’t want the Co pays blah blah and I’m thinking that yeah, skin Mets at time of presentation kinda suggests really independent patient in a big way. I’m also thinking “ah...this is a bunch of guilt she wants shriven by me.” I -really- don’ got time but I say some more nice things and tell her that I will be at viewing and that I will tell the widow same thing about pancreas if it comes up. Can’t do better than that, right? </span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">So fine, viewing HUGE. Whole town lined up. I never met or even heard guy’s name prior to diagnosing his illness so I am sucker punched to find he looks like my husband, was an animal nut like my husband, all the pictures are with their dogs, he clearly really loved family, they were married same year we were...I was hit with big waves of empathy and survivor guilt. Dealing with it but choking up myself because I’m instantly so sad. Guess who falls into line behind me? Glamour Girl Doc. Joy.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">At least she doesn’t want to chat in line. So fine we get to the part of the people-snake where we can see the widow with adult kids on each side. The person in front of me is spending a really long time talking to an adult kid just in front of my tech the new widow. I’m patiently waiting because we don’t rush these things. Glamour Girl jumps ahead of me and the person to start talking to the new widow. Well, okay. Gets her outta there sooner, right?</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">I wait for the talker to finish, shake hands of the kids “hi I’m Samantha I work with X—-” and get to the widow. She’s happy to see me; we talk. I do in fact repeat the pancreas thing but I was right; she doesn’t care where it started any more. Told me the one thing she regretted was bringing him to the hospital at the end. So that’s all fine.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">I almost walked right by the viewing area as he was cremated and the little box was in front of a kneeler —where Glamour Girl was still kneeling after my extended wait and chat. Silent but eyes shut. So I waited...deliberately thinking nothing at all because who am I to dis any faith practice? Finally she crosses herself and leaves. So I kneel, make like I’m praying, look appropriate for what feels like enough seconds and get up to leave. I’m putting my coat on in the vestibule thinking “survived THAT and it was the right thing to do” when Glamour Girl pops up at my left putting HER coat on too.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">Joy.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">We walked out together and I got another version of how she feels bad he came to her with dysphagia and she wanted to get a CT scan but he didn’t want the copay and a lot more in the same vein and she used the phrase “and I -had- to respect his wishes” at least three times in less than five minutes and I was thinking “lady this isn’t -about- YOU” and also “the family must’ve known that’s how he was” (especially after what New Widow said about keeping him home.) </span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">So I said “Frost. The poet, you know? Frost?” (I said it that way because I could NOT come up with “Robert” — my brain kept giving me “Jack” which I knew was wrong and John didn’t seem right either.) Anyhow she shut up and maybe nodded so I continued</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">“Frost said ‘ I hold it to be the fundamental right of anyone to go to hell in his own way.’”</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">She got a super shocked look on her face, said “or Heaven!״ and walked away fast the other direction.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">So now I’m the asshole, right? </span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span>SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-79260596178899568902020-01-02T07:19:00.000-08:002020-01-02T07:19:12.058-08:00Day 1322Well blogfriends it's a new year and a new decade huzzah!! I <u>thought</u> I'd be sharing a well-after-the-fact Work Thing that knocked me for a helluva loop back before Christmas...but the Universe runs at lightspeed and bigger news completely displaced it.<br />
<br />
On Sunday (which was, lemmesee...oh yeah, the 29th) I took Youngest Duckling to the ER in a florid psychotic state. Pure mania, complete inability to separate what was real from what was unreal, big delusions. Spent most of that day helping Security keep her in the ED bay long enough to get her admitted which was...challenging. She was one of the funniest psychotics I've ever helped restrain but it's still hard <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">to hear "you tricked me into thinking you were my mother" multiple times in one day, disease or not. She called my friend the security guard a "dickhole" during one of her escape attempts; that stood out among all the more garden-variety obscenity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I was thinking "well this is schizophrenia, pure and simple" and was surprised the docs were all hemming and hawing and "well we need to cast a wide net" and "we need to consider possible toxin exposure" and "let's take this a step at a time." Looking back at what had happened over the previous few days the events were so classic you could have lifted them from a psych textbook. So why all the fuss?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Medicine is such that twenty years is a big chunk of time and my training is dated.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I’m not supposed to say the S-Word because the disease is now broken down based on how long you have had symptoms. What she had is now considered an “initial psychotic break” and with proper meds and support some people may never have another. The next step up the ladder is Schizoaffective Disorder which is "they had another episode somewhere in weeks to months" but the actual S-Word now requires symptoms present for six months or longer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">And what would the one hallmark symptom be? Here it is: unable to distinguish between real and unreal experiences. That’s still The Thing and that’s what she did all over the place in the ER. BOY did she ever. Once you’ve seen it in real life you don’t ever forget it and I did a whole inpatient psych rotation so I’ve seen several variations on the theme. My big takeaway is that we are putting this new time-limit thing on top of the same old disease process mostly to make it less awful. Which makes sense: who likes something that hits lovely vibrant 18-25 year olds with a lifelong chronic condition?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Yeah, well...I literally learned how to read in part on those Time-Life Science and Nature books you buy a month at a time which had an article about the wonders of Thorazine so I’ve never been particularly scared of schizophrenia. I’ve known my whole life others including my mother were terrified of even the <u>word</u> but I see - and always have seen - this as totally just like insulin-dependent diabetes. Some people get that under control too; some don’t. I have, in addition to Carrie Fisher, been thinking of Mary Tyler Moore a lot recently.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">In any case the treatment is the same for all three things: antipsychotic medication. So it seems the disease itself hasn’t changed, really. This new "initial" "affective" "real diagnosis" seems to be PR for “take your damned meds.” I see this event as showing us that her wonderful creative joyous self has a brain which can break in a really powerful way so that makes her a little more fragile than the rest of us now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">She got admitted Sunday night and took us on a wild chase around the ward during which I learned this old fat body can still sprint if it has to -- I outran three nurses to catch her myself because I thought "ohmighawd there's a <u>stairwell</u> at the end of that hallway" as she flew by. That was after she'd had two doses of Ativan and oral Haldol so she got intramuscular Haldol and I helped hold her for the shot. There's something I never thought I'd be doing but well, here we are. Monday she was starting to come back to Earth and she got released home with me on New Year's Eve Tuesday afternoon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Tuesday night was hard because she couldn't seem to understand why I wasn't going to let her go to a New Year's Eve party at her friend's house even after we'd talked about it twice. She got tearful...but then was sound asleep by 8:15 so I had time to sew my ripped-up heart back together. Yesterday wasn't bad but this morning when I got up at 6:15 I was surprised to see her awake in her room and when I asked when she woke up she said "four thirty" as if that were as normal as eight or nine...so we aren't there yet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The psychiatrist discharged her with only a week of the same antipsychotic her uncle takes because she plans to wean her off and see what happens. THAT is all part of this new approach too and freaks me out a bit because I'm thinking "damn, we just got her back from outer space; you wanna encourage taking off AGAIN?!?" but my friend the chief of psych says, "we do that now because if someone has an initial psychotic break, goes on meds for their whole life and never has another one we don't know if they <u>needed</u> to be on the meds, y'know, and they have side effects....but if they go off meds and have a -second- episode <u>then</u> they get lifelong" which is how I think this is gonna go. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So ain't that just a kick in the head? I'm glad I've got years of sobriety under my belt already because this might've been a big enough trigger if I hadn't. I did Liver okay and I did Shoulder okay but Brain is just the one thing too many. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Buy hey, I will survive and so will everyone else. One thing I've learned over the past year: I'm one of the emotionally strongest motherfuckers I know. </span></div>
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SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-90785113720342360212019-12-11T08:30:00.003-08:002019-12-11T08:30:43.355-08:00Day 1300I was looking at my day counter for completely other reasons and discovered...<br />
<br />
...today is Day 1300.<br />
<br />
Wow. Go me.<br />
<br />
I wanted this in a strange fleeting “not sure I could -ever- have that” way for years and -years- before even trying. Took a while trying, too...but I kept at it.<br />
<br />
Eventually I got here.<br />
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<br />SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-62872630601279012272019-12-01T08:52:00.001-08:002019-12-01T08:52:17.825-08:00Day 1290I didn't even realize it was a round-number day when I started this post; I just wanted to catch up and check in. On Sunday November 24 I proved physics still works by sliding off the road onto a guardrail.<br />
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In
my defense 1) it was snowing >1” per hour which I did not know when I
left NJ 2) it was exactly 32 degrees Fahrenheit 3) I was hauling this
damned bed for my brother in law the boxes of which got delivered to the
wrong house.</div>
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I was not speeding -
was going well under posted limits due to conditions but combo of
curve, conditions and weight led to skid from which I could not recover.</div>
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There
were so many other worse accidents that it took over an hour for law
enforcement to arrive. Eventually however a nice young deputy gave me a
lift the half-mile home, filled out accident report in my driveway and
said he would wait with my vehicle till tow truck came. MUCH later
Sunday the tow truck operator called to say my vehicle had been
deposited at dealership and I did the insurance thing.</div>
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So that was pretty icky. I didn't have sense enough to be scared at the time but everyone else helpfully asking "is that a BRIDGE?!?" kinda made me think about it. The answer is "yes" because the body of water is Oaks Creek which forms the back border of our property line a
third to half mile right of the photo. It has a whole bunch of swampy
bits at the shore and I don’t think it ever gets very deep, certainly
not around there, so I would not have been in -mortal- peril but it
would definitely have been Really Awful.</div>
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Fortunately that got settled before US Thanksgiving on Thursday. Our insurance facilitated getting the car to the body shop and getting me a rental car so things are okay for now. The car has a LOT of damage underneath -- will probably be in the low five figures -- but is not a total loss so I don't have to go through that new-to-me process. I'm still a little shaken up by it not all the time but if I stop and
think about it....and I've kind of avoided that road a bit since it
happened. I figure it will fade in time. Or not, and that's okay too. I
just filled out the mandatory State of NY accident form and upon
realizing that the checkboxes for "weather" "road conditions" and "type
of road" were "snowing" "snow covered" and "curve and grade" I felt a
little better about what happened. Less like I was somehow doing
something -wrong- anyhow. </div>
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Then of course we had US Thanksgiving and that was sort of a drag as the family is separate right now. Spouse, Eldest, SiL and Middle are all in the Pinelands while Youngest, BiL and I are in the Upstate NY house. Not a problem for any of US but my mother in law and her older sister are six miles away from the NY house so I was put in the charming position of Doing Something For The Holiday with JUST my in-laws without my own spouse or two of my three kids. I would have much preferred for the Something to be "nothing at all!" and Youngest was down with that plan but my mother in law wasn't about to have any of that. She said "well I'm doing a turkey!" and I, the vegetarian, used that opportunity to say "fine I'll do ALL the sides and we have it at my place." </div>
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MiL the Admitted Control Freak didn't like this but had to accept it. (Tee Hee.) </div>
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Two Old Ladies For Thanksgiving went better than it could have gone, all things
considered. They clearly didn't like the dogs and I did have to sit with
mine for a while because he wouldn't stop barking otherwise but the
dogs were confined and not interacting directly with anyone so it wasn't -that- much a hardship. MiL's
turkey was Not Good -- very dry white meat and underdone-still-red
bottom parts but that was an SEP (Somebody Else's Problem) for me, the non-carnivore. She arrived expecting to use both my oven and microwave to
heat up her food --I'm wondering just how far ahead she prepared the
bird. That went okay though -- I could Let It Go! -- as I'd done all the side dishes well in
advance and made use of my warming drawer. </div>
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Elderly Aunt (age 86) made a flan, which impressed me no end as I can't do caramelized sugar
stuff at all. They made ME unmold it from the Bundt pan but it came
right out in one piece. It kind of collapsed on the plate afterwards but
it was indeed whole and tasted just fine. That was my favorite part of
the entire event. Still is; we have one piece left. Looks a wreck but tastes great. </div>
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In
any case it was two hours start to finish and I let her take my
photograph which will turn out awful because she simply cannot take a
good picture of me but that's okay as enough of her relatives are
my FaceBook friends now that they'll know I don't really look that bad. </div>
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Meanwhile
I went to the office this morning to clear out my email and I'm
surprised at how little of actual _substance_ happened in the six weeks I
was away. I guess that's good--? Not sure how it will be to go back tomorrow...I'm of mixed minds. </div>
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Anyhow that's to let you know that life keeps on rushing right at you but you know what I DIDN"T do after that horrible accident? I did NOT say "I need you to go to the liquor store" to another licensed driver and I did NOT get more drunk than usual and all maudlin....and I did NOT have ANY kind of hangover this whole holiday week and that right there was a HUGE blessing. </div>
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In fact...I know "the holidays" start pretty much now and don't wind up till New Years a whole month away. I also know that culturally they're an excuse to booze it up even MORE than usual and try to convince non-imbibers to try and skimpy one-sippers to cut loose and that's really hard on anyone's willpower so let me say something from the other side: it is So Fucking AWESOME to be hangover free during holiday season!! If you tell everyone at [event] that you'd love to but just -can't- because you had to start taking allergy medicine because [unexpected change in situation--can make up any silly thing you like] YOU can be smugly hangover-free too! </div>
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I like "allergy medicine" because it's really vague but everyone knows at least ONE person who drank on top of cold medicine and was out scary-cold so they tend to back off when you drag it out. You don't have to tell them that the "allergy" is to feeling shitty about yourself and the "medicine" is sobriety. </div>
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SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-24887498698508439542019-11-23T17:59:00.002-08:002019-11-23T17:59:22.100-08:00Day 1282Sobriety just served as the bedrock on which I stood to have some difficult but important personal conversations. Trust me — I know I sound candy-assed or like I “bought into it” and it’s fine if I do. Right now I know for deep true fact that sober is definitely the way to be and is better in every way. I wish I’d learned this great thing earlier in life but hey, now is good too.<br />
<br />
The one thing is....it takes a while. What seems like a BIG while in the early days: every bit of 2-3 -months- not weeks. Six months is rocky: I lost a really good quit - the one right before now - at just past the six month mark which is how I started this blog in the first place. But if you hang in there the world just quietly opens up for you. The path, even when rocky and hard, is at least not also so dark. It shines a helpful light.<br />
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<br />SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-91285529347137687142019-11-22T06:36:00.004-08:002019-11-22T06:36:38.410-08:00Three and a Half YearsLast night someone asked the date and I said “the twenty-first” and realized “hey that’s my sober day I wonder how many months it is?” Three years six months is what.<br />
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How about that.SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-57434281034423502352019-11-12T03:24:00.001-08:002019-11-12T03:29:09.148-08:00Day 1271Long time no post.<br />
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It’s for a really common reason, too: alcohol in my life again. Just not my personal life. It’s touching - oh hell, fuck “touching” it’s rubbing really hard against a couple-few really close people in my life. Of course it’s a story but not MY story so I’ve just been keeping mum. As I’ve said a million times of late: I’m not ever gonna say anything about anyone else’s substances.<br />
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What I can say is that my own and my husband’s health are both doing just fine. I had my stitches out, got off narcotics and have weaned out of the sling. Got permission to drive but not to start PT yet. It is Bothering me to be out of work this long but every day I notice at least one thing that I couldn’t do before the surgery. I also notice every day at least one way in which I un-knot a little more emotionally from The Summer Of Healthcare.<br />
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I’m bad about recognizing low level pain AS pain. Turns into sadness/depression along the way. Family says “why so down?” I say “I’m not” then realize I’ve been using/doing -and- overdue for meds, which consist of Advil and Tylenol. Then in an hour I’m not so sad. I’ve also learned caffeine helps with all of the above. It’s worth doing too, as the other thing untreated pain makes me is mean-mouthed. Not as bad as a drunk with issues but definitely in that too-much-truth-too-bluntly kind of way.<br />
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Anyhow I percolate along. There are moments when I think I might explode in sheer frustration but there are also moments when I can appreciate the quiet satisfaction of just simply being. It’s a lot easier to do life sober although I know it absolutely doesn’t look like that from the drinking side of the street. Yeah, well...after three and a half years I STILL do not miss hangovers one single bit. Not a smidgeon.<br />
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Stay strong.<br />
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<br />SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-20014677932824865312019-10-09T11:33:00.001-07:002019-10-09T11:33:22.346-07:00Day 1237Had my surgery 10/2 and it was success. Hate wedge immobilization device though. Pain worse than I expected but much improved now, a week later.<br />
<br />
Husband continues to improve which is very heartening.<br />
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I have NOT been doing well with arm - very cranky. Weepy. But managing.<br />
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<br />SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-20978050419064843552019-10-01T07:31:00.003-07:002019-10-01T07:31:36.609-07:00Day 1229What a difference a couple weeks can make.<br />
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I still have to get surgery -- tomorrow! -- and I'm a little uneasy but overall I'm very grateful there IS a surgery because the shoulder has stopped getting better and has in fact gotten mildly worse since last I wrote. Yes I'll be immobilized for six weeks and need to not cheat on that immobilization because tendons don't have very good blood flow and are thus slow to heal...but even if I only get a 50-75% improvement from where it is right now I'll be happy with that since where it is right now is Just Not Good At All. I'm sure there are parts of this I'm going to hate and I'm sure the road to FULL recovery will be long but I want to get started on that journey.<br />
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Meanwhile my husband is so much better that I really do see the miracle. It took every bit of two complete months but he's just like he used to be years ago...well, he doesn't have the energy level yet and we're both a lot older but he's not yellow and not swollen and it's just so amazing and wonderful. He's getting closer to normal each day and his lab values are all great and the timing couldn't be better so that now I can focus on dealing with my own injury and healing.<br />
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Good thing, too, because it was really awful there for a while. Right after the surgery it was very touch and go; I remember sitting in the ICU on Saturday July 20 watching all the blood pour into the wound evacuation container and watching them pour more in through wide-bore IVs and thinking very dispassionately "well this just isn't compatible with life. We can do this 24, maybe 48 hours but then he's gonna start dropping off organ systems." Praise be the second-look operation that afternoon showed and fixed a bleeding blood vessel. Only now can I even start remembering those early awful hours---I remember Eldest wanting to drive out on that Saturday during the day and using every single calm rational argument I could use to get her NOT to come till at least Sunday. I was soothing, I was kind, I was loving....and I was scared to death he might die when she was there at the hospital three hours from home, she'd break down completely and I'd have an extra car to deal with and not know how to get it or her back home again. Total soldier mode. Fortunately on Sunday when there was no stopping her coming by any means necessary he had turned that immediate corner.<br />
<br />
But now it's settling down to pretty much normal. He still uses the stair lift but not -every- time and has commented on how he will know he's totally back to baseline again when he can call the company to have it removed. Because I was on the phone with my pre-op nurse early last Thursday morning he drove himself to his lab draw---I came downstairs after the call, wondered where he was and then went outside to see him just putting the car in gear. I hopped into the passenger side, pajamas and all, to ride along and he did just fine. Decided to have me drive the six miles home again after the lab draws but hey, he did it.<br />
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I'm actually at work right now -- I stopped in yesterday and today to sign things and make an appearance before I get the Big Arm Sling. That's been good too as I was surprised and a little touched by how many people had missed me and how glad everyone was to have me back. Heartwarming.<br />
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I really don't know how I could have done all the things that had to be done this past year if I had still been drinking. Badly, that's how. Showing up hungover all the time and half-drunk sometimes, probably....no driving needed and there was a liquor store within walking distance. Back in 2002 I did hospice care for beloved Grandmom about half-lit about three-quarters of the time and although I held it together the way that we overdrinkers do I look back and see that I was making it harder on myself that way even though at the time I thought I -needed- it like medicine. Nah. Having done major healthcare stuff and other major stuff both while drinking and while sober I can say with complete assurance that majorly bad stuff is STILL better as a non-drinker. It's bad, but at least you can be there to deal with it and be there for the other people who are dealing with it.<br />
<br />
I know a couple people in the really early stages of sobriety -- under a month to right at a month -- and I know it seems like one will never ever get out of that "this is really hard and awful" stage and sometimes it's just a challenge to get through each day but it DOES get better if you stick with it. I had my back to the wall and felt really bottomed-out and awful a couple weeks ago with my husband's illness: we were at home finally but he was still just SO sick and weak and couldn't do -anything- and we had visiting nurses all the time and had to make that drive every week and he had a wound-vac machine and I remember going around for at least three days in a row maybe more thinking "yeah we saved his life but this is NOT a whole lot better; this SUCKS this does and it's HARD and what are we even doing here and if this is how it's gonna be this is AWFUL and did we really do ourselves any favors here...." and if you pluck "we saved his life" out of that rant and replace it with "I quit drinking" it feels really familiar!! Y'know what? I rode it out and it got a lot better. Like a LOT-lot.<br />
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I'm keeping that in mind for my post-op state starting tomorrow.<br />
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<br />SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-35597566461254580702019-09-13T03:51:00.002-07:002019-09-13T03:51:51.370-07:00Day 1211The past three days I’ve walked up with my shoulder really sore...and now I know why. From the MRI report:<br />
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<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“The supraspinatus tendon is torn. This is a full-thickness complete</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">tear with tendon fragments approximately 8.5 mm avulsed from the foot</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">process on the greater tuberosity.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Even I, who am out of direct patient care entirely, know that “full thickness complete tear” needs surgery. I’m trying really hard to get to “but this means you -won’t- have a permanently messed up arm” but I’ve stalled out at rage and anger. Over the pain, over the hassle of having to schedule and do a surgery, over recovery time...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">...and over the inherent unfairness of it all. Naive perhaps but still very real. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">On the other hand, the Universe cushioned me a little bit for the blow: yesterday out of the blue I got an Amazon package which turned out to be my friend from high school sending me the new Stephen King book I didn’t even know was out. Complete surprise and a delightful one. </span></div>
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SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-32482284379338324542019-09-09T18:30:00.002-07:002019-09-09T18:30:29.155-07:00Day 1207This bum shoulder just colors everything a little bitter. I thought maybe it was just me and my own skewed perceptions but both kids have asked me several times if I were mad or, more commonly "what are you mad about?" when I don't -think- I'm mad at all. That's probably pain or fatigue from pain.<br />
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I am well aware that in many =many= versions of this story the old woman doesn't get any or enough treatment for the arm and it stays bum for years and is constantly Something to be Endured. So I'm grateful to be having the MRI tomorrow afternoon and grateful to be able to do as much as I am doing -- which is pretty much everything a little till the pain makes me stop.<br />
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The problem is that driving is painful. Not the steering wheel part or I'd stop even going the five miles into town (well, maybe not; too useful) but the radio and heater and other dash stuff are at the wrong angle. It hurts to mess with them. Stirring things hurts. Typing or mousing don't hurt much at the time but make it ache later...but I just now a couple days ago got My! Own! Computer! back so I'm going to be typing and mousing anyhow.<br />
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It's all so tiring. On the other hand, his liver numbers are absolutely fantastic. Everything is shaping up nicely from that viewpoint and I can see good progress from when we first came home. Still a long way to go but considering where we started it's pretty amazing. Doesn't feel like it at all since we're living through it and it's still A Real Lot...but when one stops to think about it we've come an incredible way.<br />
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Which I suppose is why the big mess I'm having around food isn't entirely unexpected. I may or may not have mentioned buying a bag of Keebler Iced Animal Crackers which was how I knew I was just bottomed out, PTSD/adapting-to-change/maybe-depression wise...because I never buy them as I know I'll eat the whole sugary bag in a matter of two or at most three days. Well not only that but then I saw these "oh wow don't THOSE look interesting?" caramel cornflake cookie-type things at the Good Grocery and got them...and I've been doing a whole lot of nibbling that I don't need to be doing and the whole food thing is going completely to hell.<br />
<span class="_5yl5"><span> </span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5"><span>The trouble is that I still have all the issues in my life and relationships that pissed me off before the transplant and now not only is the main way they were working out (him and Eldest in NJ) not in play but now also I've had a frail sick old man. Getting less so, but still. With a bum arm. And the food is all tied to body image crap and sick/well crap that started in freaking preschool with my crazy anorexic Munchhausens mother and that ties into desire and desirability and that circles round to the relationships again and it was a lot easier with booze since one can -stop- booze but ya gotta fucking eat. Ya know?</span></span><span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span> I had things in a really good place up until he got freaking sick and then it was okay for a while and then the whole freaking Hospital Event happened and now I’m right back to eating sweets like a drug. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span>Well...it’s been worse but this ain’t great. </span></span></span></span><span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span>But the iced animal crackers and caramel-cornflakes cookies are all gone so that’s a start. And I know not to buy stuff with maltodextrin high up on the ingredient list so I will not be standing in front of the cupboard pouring Molly McButter into my hand, eating it and repeating. That was way long ago back in high school but that whole "I have to at least _taste_ everything" for some deep unsettling impossible-to-name reason has been back like crazy lately. Gotta get a grip on it. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span>I should cut myself a break -- not only is there Big Change here in the house now but I had two whole months of Somebody Else's Food Prep all the time and that's big. I had forgotten how little I care for just-myself-cooking and likewise forgotten that when one does take the time it's better. I had still eaten really well because there were a lot of easy healthy choices at the hospital cafeteria...but totally got out of the whole How To Food thing and that's just not a good place for me. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span>I'm hoping by writing about it I can start coming to terms with it and getting to a better place.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span><span class="_5yl5"><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-75517204651461696502019-09-02T19:01:00.003-07:002019-09-02T19:01:57.981-07:00Day 1200Well hey! I got here! Wow!<br />
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I mean yeah who knew life would have gone so wild...but “against a background of sober” makes everything so much better. Easier, by far.SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-47576552076082780412019-08-23T10:56:00.000-07:002019-08-23T10:56:05.943-07:00Day 1190 (I got a counter app)Today when I woke up I finally- for the first time in weeks - felt like life was do-able. Like things might eventually be okay again.<br />
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Yesterday was his first clinic visit. Lab numbers all going in the right direction; that’s the biggest thing. They seemed to be impressed with how well he was doing. They also swapped us to aWednesday afternoon slot which is way more do-able - leaving the house at 9:30-10 instead of 5-5:30 is much better, especially as our son is still doing the driving. We will be able to get the twice-weekly labs on Mondays and Thursdays at the local hospital so that’s easier too.<br />
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My ortho visit this morning went well - they gave me a new sling though I’m only supposed to wear it at night...okay, they said “wean” myself out of it big I decided that “wean” was “just stop.” They told me to do pendulums and wall crawls which are both do-able. The PA ordered an MRI but most importantly she completed all the forms I needed. I go back for another visit sometime after the MRI.<br />
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It was a beautiful day, weather wise so I was happy to be out in town running some errands. It really does finally seem like things will be okay eventually.SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-5936713657408462122019-08-19T21:03:00.002-07:002019-08-19T21:03:40.124-07:00Three Years Three Months<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Home. Lying in my own new room staring at the glow-stars Eldest added years ago. Two beloved beagles at my feet. He has the master suite and renewed bodily autonomy. Powerful restorative stuff.</span></div>
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What a lovely soberversary present. </div>
SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-7454212800438705032019-08-19T05:29:00.000-07:002019-08-19T05:29:42.673-07:001186 Days (3 years, 2 months 30 days)Sorry I haven’t checked in - life happening awfully fast plus the dislocated dominant arm thing.<br />
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It goes well: he gets discharged today! Well, possibly tomorrow but definitely one or the other. Then it’s learning a whole new way of life but he GETS a new life which is really wonderful.<br />
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I wish I were less tired so I could feel more of the wonder.<br />
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I had my own ortho follow up last week. Was exceptionally cookbook: check in, get Xrays, get roomed, see NP. I have to still sleep in the sling till my follow up visit — which isn’t for -four-weeks- (and was scheduled here but can be transferred -home- now praise be!) but I can start “weaning” myself from the sling during the day whatever that means, exactly...mostly I’ve been sitting quietly with it off a couple times a day. I have PT exercises to do theoretically twice a day but in practice only once because they make me ache afterwards and then I’m not much good as a caregiver. <br />
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Oh and I can’t drive till my next visit which at first I thought was mostly for my protection because if you have an accident while in a sling the insurance company will likely try not to pay...but now after living with this injury for 17 days I realize I still have no business trying to drive no matter how strong I think I am.<br />
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This has all been a huge experience in so many ways. I’m so glad I had the foundation of long term sobriety before I started.<br />
<br />SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-87156211076571995072019-08-07T13:02:00.001-07:002019-08-07T13:02:33.792-07:00Three years, two months, two-plus weeks <span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s been something.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last Friday afternoon I had gone to the families-of-Transplants house for a break and to get tea for Hubby and on my way out one second I was walking down the driveway and the next I was flying through the air. Landed on my right arm outstretched over my head and it hurt sufficiently that I thought “oh hell I’ve broken something again” but my first emotion was annoyance more than anything else. But then when I tried to stand I literally -could-not- get up due to terrible dizziness. Couldn’t get past a sitting position without the world closing in....was terrified that “oh no, this injury on top of the stress of his illness has given me a heart attack.” Called 911 from my cell phone. Fortunately I was not having a heart attack — it was just shock causing low blood pressure 82/47. Responded to fluids.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The pain started out at maybe 6-7 but then became extreme — while I was in the ER waiting for meds I used every breathing technique I learned for labor plus chanting prayer. Had not had agony like that since labor with my firstborn 25 years ago. Really awful. Dislocation with small associated fracture. But once I got medicated they managed to pop it back smoothly...and by “medicated” I mean more drugs than I’d ever had before in my life: 1 milligram of Dilaudid, 5mg Valium and then Novocain in the joint itself plus 50 micrograms of Fentanyl for the actual relocation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Praise be it wasn’t worse. Of all the fractures I’ve had, this one is the most painful but the least incapacitating. It wasn’t a leg so I can still walk and as long as my arm is in the sling I can use the hand, wrist and elbow. Can’t lift the arm at all and taking a shower is still pretty humbling but overall it could have been so -very- much worse. Praise be.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Praise be for cellphones too as that’s how Hubby found out what happened and that’s how he called our son to come out and stay with us. Son <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-size: 17px;">went home yesterday morning but Eldest is bringing him back this afternoon, visiting briefly then going back home herself</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-size: 17px;"> </span><a dir="ltr" href="x-apple-data-detectors://2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); color: black; font-size: 17px; text-decoration-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.258824);" x-apple-data-detectors-result="2" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">tomorrow morning</a><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-size: 17px;">(thus leaving only one vehicle here in Rochester.) This is good because the team is talking discharge Monday. Bilirubin is 4-5 and trending down, liver enzymes are great and although creatinine is still 3.6 it is trending down and he’s <span style="font-family: inherit;">making good urine. Blake drain got removed during yesterday’s wound-vac change and the wound being vacced is overall smaller.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">They -were- talking about discharge to the fifth-floor short-term rehab unit but he is flat-out not willing to do that because he is completely unable to eat the food here. The issue is the stairs in/out of our house but Hubby’s Aunt has offered use of her first-floor retirement complex apartment as long as needed so going -home- home is now the plan. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We just got a stair lift installed today and plan to get a ramp for the front and bannisters for the back ASAP so we are all hoping the time at Aunties will be quite brief...but we are very grateful to have that option as there would have been an ugly confrontation otherwise. It was almost confrontational anyway — Physical Med doc who runs the rehab unit came down and said he was okay with Hubby going home if PT cleared it and PT knew about our plans...but then the surgical team breezed in and the first words out of the attending’s mouth were “so you will be going to the rehab floor...” which didn’t go very well. Got it resolved but it wasn’t a terribly pleasant morning. I was really dreading having to have the “no, it will be either discharge to home or discharge AMA as he simply is not going to GO to the rehab unit.” Fortunately we didn’t have to go there at all. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: inherit;">Meanwhile my arm steadily improves. I figure it can’t be that bad if ortho didn’t want to see me till 12 days after the original injury...which is what they said when I called on Monday. The PT people who see Hubby said using the fingers, wrist and elbow while close to the body was fine so I have just kept it in the sling as instructed and let pain be my guide. I am deliberately staying on q6 </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: inherit;">Tylenol - regular not extra strength - but only took my first Oxy 5 of the day </span><a dir="ltr" href="x-apple-data-detectors://9" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: inherit;" x-apple-data-detectors-result="9" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">at 1pm</a><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: inherit;">. I found out the hard way that I tend to ignore pain till I get mean and/or weepy which are neither one at all useful so I’m staying on top of it. Sleeping in the recliner chair bedside is actually as easy in the sling as the bed in the little house so no issues there.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We are managing. Despite everything I am still hugely grateful not just for my husband’s new life but also for the incredible personal growth this experience has brought. My ER experience, though not pleasant, was very memorable. I’m also grateful for the family, for my considerate employer, for the entire healthcare team..for so many things. </span></span></div>
SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-20329297425020347762019-07-30T06:06:00.002-07:002019-07-30T06:06:30.046-07:00Three Years, Two Months, A Week and A Day<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">He was transferred out of the ICU back to the sound organ transplant ward <a dir="ltr" href="x-apple-data-detectors://0" style="color: black; text-decoration-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.258824);" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">on Sunday afternoon around 4pm</a>. Got off telemetry yesterday. Getting IV meds switched over to PO. Still needs two people to help get him out of bed and into a chair but it gets less hard each time. </span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">I slept at the for-families house last night we and that was wonderful. Shower, laundry...and sound asleep before midnight. He seemed to sleep well also - till about <a dir="ltr" href="x-apple-data-detectors://2" style="color: black; text-decoration-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.258824);" x-apple-data-detectors-result="2" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">4:30</a> anyhow which is when his first text of the morning woke me because I had the phone right by my head.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">He is still incredibly weak so there is still a long way to go but my son said “the climax seems to be over and we are in a long denouement right now” and that -is- a good way to put it. Now that we are on POD #11 we seem to have weathered the storm.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">Just now he said “everyone on this floor is super nice...but I wanna go home.” He hasn’t been healthy enough to say that for a -month-! I burst into tears of joy.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">I also made him a calendar of the events in July as he still has a lot of immediate-term memory loss.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"></span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">But it’s all just so overall good! </span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">I’m holding up really well and I am certain sobriety is the foundation for it all. </span>SamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3887190746122916899.post-44882904290045816112019-07-25T07:44:00.002-07:002019-07-25T07:44:58.945-07:00Three years, two months, four days. Hubby just came off the ventilator this morning. All healing is going as planned.<br />
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I am so grateful. Too much to even speak so I’ll share a things which happened yesterday:<br />
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In the elevator a complete stranger wearing a “though she be but little she is fierce” t shirt showed me a newborn on her cellphone. Put an already good morning over the top.<br />
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Not just the baby and her joy but that I look like the kind of person one can approach like that.<br />
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They were playing Fleetwood Mac’s “don’t stop thinking about tomorrow” in the cafeteria just now — appropriate.<br />
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Be well, allSamKDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16485629540674780236noreply@blogger.com9