Working in the

I know you thought I'd say 'Coal Mine' but maybe that's just me.
That's what popped into my head this morning, though.


I *just* got over a cold. I felt like crap off and on for about 12 days, fever up and down (a small fever, just enough to make me feel shitty..) for at least 8 of those days.

I managed the same way I always do, Excedrin and power through. I don't always take something to kill a fever because a fever isn't actually a bad thing, but when I feel really off, I do. Otherwise I have to lie around and wait to feel better, something I really don't have time for.

I had four or five days where I felt decent. When I went to sleep last night, my throat was a little itchy and I woke up this morning with a stuffy nose and another damn little fever. Grrr.

Of course it's directly related to my job. I was hoping I'd escaped the crap this year, but I've been coughed and sneezed on nonstop for the last month or so.

And bam, here it is again.

I have a TON of things that need doing here at home, which isn't unusual because I'm lazy and I never want to do anything, but I can't stand the mess anymore... so now I'm taking Excedrin with every intention of powering through.

Excedrin and half a box of tissues.

::sigh::

I hate winter.

Before you roll your eyes and think something like, 'that chick don't know nothin' about bad weather' I'll tell you I'm originally from Colorado.

And in Colorado, we got a lot of snow.
I've lived in Vale, La Grande and John Day Oregon,too.
I understand what it's like to be in the cold for months and months. I know what it's like to have two or three feet of snow. I understand below zero weather.

I wish I didn't, I hate being cold.

But it's different here.
First, almost no one seems to understand a very basic rule for driving in winter conditions... slow the hell down.

No, really. SLOW DOWN. I don't care if you have 4wd, either. That doesn't mean you can drive the way you usually do, it just means that you'll have slightly better traction than most of us. You still need to leave extra stopping distance. You will still slip and slide a bit if you're not careful.

On Friday night the forecast was for the end of the world.
I mentioned to Eric in passing that I had considered a rotisserie chicken for dinner, but as my kids were picked up and I talked with parents, I changed my mind. I heard about 2 hour lines at Walmart, people waiting for 40 minutes to fill their gas tanks and all the crazy traffic and decided we'd just go home when Eric picked me up. He was off work for the day, so drove me to and from. Kind of nice.

He had other ideas. Insisted on getting me a chicken at Fred Meyer. The parking lot looked like an anthill. It was utterly crazy. I have never seen it like that, not even during the holidaze.

I kept trying to talk him out of going in. "I'll eat scrambled eggs and toast. You're crazy if you think you're going in there!"

But he made me park the car and he went in.
Where, of course, they were completely out of already cooked chickens.
He called me from inside the store to tell me they were out of milk, too.
And bread.
And this and that.

"Is there anything else you want?" he asked.
"Well, if they have some of those little cherry pastries I like, that would be great."

So then he called me back a couple minutes later and said, "You mean the cherry streusel things?"

I told him that would be fine, and he said, "I have the last package of them, I'm walking around with it and some guy is eyeballing it. Wanted to make sure."

Now that's funny.
Or at least I found it so.

But the frenzied Friday shopping was like a horde of locusts and made the local news. Someone posted an emptied bin of Kale on the book of Face, calling it a uniquely Portland thing.

I guess the kale-munching wooly-headed Yuppicansis weren't the only people who thought going to the store was a good idea.

Hey! Emo! Pass the orthopedic cheese.

I figured we'd stay home from our usual Saturday grocery run, we have plenty of stuff on hand all the time. But Eric thought it would be a good idea to go. The weather jerks told us that we were going to be buried under possibly 14 inches of snow in the next 5 days. So we went. It looked like the apocalypse had happened in that store. The only milk left on the shelves was skim. Who the hell drinks skim milk? Not even the desperate. Blech.

I'm actually supposed to purchase that kind of milk for my kids. I don't. I use the milk card they provide and buy 2%. Kids don't need low fat anything. Fat isn't what causes obesity, either. In case you didn't know.

So we've had some crazy weather.
(It's not really crazy... happens almost every year.)

I actually thought we weren't going to have the snow/ice/snow thing this year because here we are in mid-February and it hadn't happened.
But then BOOM.

My program got kicked out of the school last week on Monday at 3, a precautionary measure. The roads weren't impassable or scary until about 8 or 9 PM, so we really could have stayed in the building until parents picked up at their usual times, but I don't get a choice when that happens.

Of course the entire area shuts down when we get snow, so the school schedule is crazy, too. Yesterday morning I had no morning program, because when the school is on a two hour delayed start, I have no program.

In my old job, if school was on a two hour delay, our program was, too. I had a lot further to drive back then, it was a little over eight miles from my house to the front door of the school. And eight miles home. And eight miles back in the afternoon. And eight miles home again.

On those mornings that we started two hours late, there was usually more ice and snow than I was comfortable with. Logically, if it isn't safe for kids and buses etc, I don't know why it was deemed safe for us.

As usual no one asked me.

But it's one more thing about this job that's better than that one.
I could make you a list with at least 20 things on it. Yeah, it was hard to leave, but I am glad now that I did. I'll never forgive that morally bankrupt harpy and her bevy of beastly bitches, but that's a separate issue.

I'm thinking that the worst of the weather is over, though.

This morning there was an ant on my kitchen counter and a spider in the bathroom AND one in the momcave while I was getting dressed for work.

It's raining, but there's still snow on the ground, more of it out by where I work, but there's still some in my yard, too.

And did I mention it's raining?

:::sigh:::

Starting Over

I picked up the orthotics on my way to work today.
I didn't have time to fit them to my shoes, though, so I had to wait until this evening to do that.

The first pair I had was really difficult to get used to.
I was told not to wear them for more than 20 minutes at a time. When I first tried them, I was horrified. I wasn't able to wear them for 20 seconds!! They were SO different. I had to buy some of the little ones you find in the grocery store, add more of them, and gradually work my way up to trying the orthotics.

And of course I got used to them, they worked really well and I didn't have pain in my feet for quite awhile.

But my feet have adjusted, I needed new ones... and oh. my. god. they feel SO weird. I sure hope I can adjust to them quickly. I have my old ones in my backpack, my new ones in my shoes and I'm going to be working on it. Wish me luck because DAMN.

Stuff I'm thinking about

Stream of consciousness. Or in my case, sludgy semi-consciousness. I tired.

Knee hurts.

I see the surgeon today. When I saw him a month ago, he said I should get a month of PT, that he saw 'no reason to do surgery at this time' and to come back in a month.

In that month, I have attended eight? sessions of PT, religiously done my exercises at home (religiously=saying OH MY GOD THAT HURTS every time I do them) and tried to spend as much time off the crutches as I can. I do my mornings at work without them, but by the time my afternoon shift rolls around, I have a really sore knee. Moving it makes me say 'ow' and so does walking around. So I crutch.

There has been improvement. I am not driving the old lady cart at the grocery store anymore, but I can't do the shopping trip without my crutches. NO friggin' way.

And I am taking pain medication so I can work. And so I can sleep. If you're paying attention, that means I am basically taking pain medication three times a day.

I tried doing without it on Thursday. Took Excedrin all day instead. It helped, but didn't do much, really. Took the edge off for about an hour?

Finally got up during the night on Thursday and got one, I could not sleep because every time I moved the knee woke me up. So I'm stuck with the meds for now.

Although going without it didn't upset my system or make me have a deep craving or anything like that, so that's on the good side.

I know people have all kinds of shit going on. And that a little knee pain, in the general scheme of things isn't all that big. And really, I don't want to whine all the time. But I am so very tired of having something hurt constantly. It's really been two years of it, and it's getting old.

No wonder I'm tired.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Got a phone call on Monday from the mother of one of my drop in kids. Our company does care on a drop in basis from time to time, but it's really not a money saver for the struggling family.. it's twenty bucks every time it happens. Paris* will be with us Wednesday, Thursday and Friday this week, and Monday of next week. She's an adorable child, but has a hard time with our routine. She always draws me at least one picture while she's there, and never fails to say hello to me if I encounter her in the hallway on my way in or out.

Mom was very complimentary about my program, and said that Paris would like to attend more often, so wanted to know what the weekly rate was. I provided her with the information, so who knows? Maybe I'll have another full time student. She also mentioned that she's been recommending my program to other people. Which I thanked her for. The more the merrier and all that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I bought communion cups from Amazon to make a craft project with my kids. (miniature ice cream sundae magnets for the fridge)

100 of those little cups in the package. So now I'm pondering other things we could make. There are 27 kids in my program on the busiest day, so we could make at least three different things from them.

Any ideas?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We played Switchball in the gym on Monday. I think it has to be my favorite game that we've invented. I divide the kids into two teams. We put six soft balls on the center line in the gym, and each team lines up against opposite walls.

When I say go, they run to the middle and grab a ball and try to hit someone on the opposing team.

When you're hit with the ball, you sit down where you are and count to 15. Slowly-ish. It's funny to see them try to go slow when what they want is to just get up and go. Once they've sat down for that 15 seconds, they switch teams. So no one is permanently out, and no one loses. If the teams are unbalanced, it doesn't matter. Everyone ends up switching teams at least three times during the course of the game.

The kids love it. I love it. Very rare to have arguments in the game, except of course, for Reese. To hear him tell it, he's never out, the ball never hit him, even though it bounced off his leg and flew in the opposite direction after it hit him. He also spends a lot of time trying to call other people out. I remind him many times that he is not the referee.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had 25 kids on Monday. Will have 27 on Wednesday if everyone shows. I already know two of my regulars will be gone all week, so Wednesday would have been 29. One away from capacity. I really, really want my program to grow. But I'm glad that 30 is our cutoff, I don't think there's enough space for more. They'd all be in each other's space. Not helpful or harmonious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have started putting my name in all the books I buy at Goodwill for the kids. I am not planning to go anywhere, but if I ever do, I want to make sure to take my things with me. It would take care of the space problem in the back room immediately... I have brought a lot of stuff in. I really could open my own before/after school care if I had the right sort of space to do it. And didn't mind the headaches of collection, insurance crap, staffing...

Hm. Don't see it happening any time soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The only thing I actually see happening soon is bedtime. I woke up every hour Sunday night. Ugh. Don't know why. Hope I don't do it tonight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One last teeny, itty-bitty little thing.
WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH ALL THESE GODDAMNED WHISKERS????? 

I feel Shitty, oh so shitty, I feel shitty and grumpy and baaaaad....

Sing along with me if you're of a mind to.

Another cold. Aching joints and head and a fever and a little sore throat and a whole lot of baditude.

So I am going to bed early.

On the good side, today is my Friday, because our school district has scheduled a budget reduction day for the real Friday, and that means I won't be getting up at five, won't be leaving the house at six, and won't be so damn tired.

I hope.

On the not so good side, I learned this week that as a site director, I am allowed one hour per week of planning time. And I haven't ever called that in. Ever. So we're what, 25 weeks into school? That's a fair chunk of change, 25 hours wages.

I have emailed my supervisor. Talked to her in person. She's not sure how it's going to be handled.

But I know it will be handled, because I'm not letting it go.

Okay.

Bed.

Did I win?

It's late. So I'll write fast. Won't go back and edit.

Need some good sleep.

My knee... popped on Wednesday morning.
Not sure what happened.

So managed the morning shift. Kids had to help me put all the stuff away. I can't walk at all now.

Had an appointment with the comp doctor anyway.

And he wants me off the job.
I said, "Please don't make me miss work?"

So we discussed it. His fear, since the knee is so very unstable, is that I'm going to end up falling. And break a hip or some damn thing.

And he didn't want me at work. He thinks there is more than a torn meniscus here... unfortunately, so do I.

::sigh::

I practically begged him to not make me miss work.

So he said I could go if I wear the immobilizing brace I had post-surgery. And if I ONLY crutch around. And if I don't move tables or furniture. At all.

So I am still working.

And I got home on Wednesday evening in an awful lot of pain.

A LOT.

I got my way with the doctor, but I'm not sure I won.

If you're following along...

And who isn't?

I live a very exciting life.

Anyway, if you've been paying attention, you will remember this recent visit to my doctor and the confusion I had afterward.

What you don't know is that I've called his office six? seven? times since trying to make sure they got all the paperwork they needed and did not have from the comp insurer, that I hand delivered a copy of my IME to them just a couple days after that disastrous visit, (stood in line for 10 minutes waiting to hand it to them) and have become more and more frustrated as my calls mostly weren't returned and when they were it was a different person every time and when I called to leave a message to ask someone to call me back I always got the 3rd degree and they wanted a detailed message and they kept wasting my damn time with that and then NO ONE CALLED ME BACK.

I did talk to Carole, my doctor's scheduler, on Tuesday afternoon. She was kind, listened to me, and promised to call me back on Wednesday.

She did not call.

So Wednesday afternoon around three, I called and asked if I could leave her a message. I identified myself and said something along the lines of 'I called yesterday and we talked and I'm just following up to see if she has any news for me.'

And Ms. Snippypants Bossybutt on the other end of the phone said in a superior manner, "But what message do you want me to leave for her?" as if I hadn't just given her one.

So I gave an audible sigh.
Said, "Okay. Here's the message. Ask her if it's now your policy to just keep putting people off until they give up and quit calling."

A pause. Then, in a much subdued tone, "I'll... give her the message."

It wasn't even two minutes before my cell phone rang. It was Aimee, my doctor's office nurse.

I explained everything to her. Again.

I am determined to continue working for the next seven weeks until school's out and my damn knee hurts.

I get that my doctor is a surgeon, and to him the knee isn't a problem until he's ready to cut it open and fix it. But *I* get to live with it for the next two months and for me it is a problem.

Of course we still haven't signed off on the shoulder and I'm not sure if I'm quite ready to deal with being on crutches anyway... sometimes my shoulder still hurts a bit.

But what's really hurting is my knee. It's waking me up at night. It pops. It is swollen. It's aggravating and I have resorted to taking pain medication twice in the last two weeks so that I can sleep on particularly bad nights.

I was sent to physical therapy for the knee before, and although I was skeptical, it actually worked. I was more or less pain free for quite some time. Despite doing my exercises and trying to keep it moving, it's just... ugly.

I asked to be sent to PT again. I want the knee as strong as possible before the surgery, and I need to be able to sleep and rest before then.

And I told her that what's left of my liver (after four solid months of pain medication and sporadic use of it since then) is probably lying in the bottom of my abdominal cavity, twitching helplessly and saying 'please! no more!'.

I also said that I could understand their reluctance if I were calling and asking for pain medication or visit after visit to annoy them, but all I wanted was PT...and added 'PT is no friggin' picnic, you know.'

I said that I'm not asking for anything that's not in my best interest and expressed confusion, aggravation and anger over the long wait between calls telling me NOTHING.

And she listened. And listened. And listened until I ran down.

I did try to keep my tone polite and friendly, but I made sure to tell her that I'm just... done.

That I'm frustrated with trying to get some help from them and tired of talking to a different person every other day when I call... and I have to be the one to call because no one is calling me back... well, I think she got the point.

She promised to call me back this morning (Thursday).

I wasn't holding my breath, but I was prepared to call them back, starting about noon... and every half hour after.

Despite my snark on my blog, I really don't start out grumpy. Not only does it piss people off and make them less likely to want to help, but I am going to be dealing with this clinic for at least another six months after the upcoming ordeal of knee surgery and I'd prefer friendly voices on the other end of the phone and smiling faces when I have to make my obligatory office visit every four weeks.

I'm sure calling every half hour would have made me quite popular. Not sure what the results would have been. I didn't have to find out because about 11:10, as I was leaving the grocery store, my cell phone rang.

It was Aimee. She said that she'd gotten everything clarified for me and that the doctor had signed a PT order for me to rehab the knee for a month, that we'll do an evaluation on the shoulder in a few weeks and that I'll need a new MRI on the knee, that the one he has is old and the definition poor.

Meaning that I don't get to go to Open MRI... I'll get two Valium and the Tube of Death instead, do not pass Go, do not collect $200.00.

But I got what I asked for, and I know that Shawn will do whatever he can over the next month or so to help me strengthen the knee and lessen the pain a bit.

I'll be driving half an hour from home to see him, though, since he's moving to a different clinic on Monday.

That's okay. Worth the drive.

Even a little relief will help. Just being able to sleep all night without waking up and saying OUCH would be a gift. I realize I have whined a lot about it, and you can stop reading any time, but if you look back at my blog a year ago, the same damn knee was hurting.

And I had surgery.
And it was recovering when I hurt it again.
And my knee has been hurting for a solid year.
So I'll whine a little if I want to, dammit.

But things are looking up. I at least got someone to listen.

Round and round

So in accordance with the wishes of my orthopedic specialist, I'm going for physical therapy for my knee twice a week right now. 

In my spare time. 

Of which I have lots. 

Yeah.

It's going... okay. 
I'm surprised, actually. I didn't expect noticeable results.

Call me skeptical (because it goes so well with cynical) I thought physical therapy for my already-sore knee would be like, oh, I don't know, a blow to the head to cure a headache. Although technically I suppose a hard enough head shot would actually cure most headaches... but here I am, a few sentences in and already digressing. I do that. I'm sure you've noticed.

I generally keep my hopes low, expectations can't be smashed to hell if I don't have 'em in the first place, right?

My tendency ( I'm not alone in this, right?) is to move the knee less the more it hurts. Because it, well, hurts! 

Isn't that pain supposed to be telling me something?

So since I injured it a month ago, I've spent a lot of time not using it. I walk on it endlessly at work etc, but don't do a lot of knee flexing. It hurts when I flex it too much or too often.

Even though the initial inflammation has long since subsided, I still baby it a bit, because I'm afraid of twisting it again and doing something else to it... and I live in mortal fear that I'll hurt the other knee, too. 

That's just what I need... to give myself a matched set.
::snort::

But I've been faithfully doing the very mild exercises (two sets, three times a day... okay, usually twice a day is all I have time for, but still) I've been told to do, and it has helped. The knee is stronger, and I'm limping less, although at the end of a long day, that sucker's singing pretty loud. 

When I wind up and sing along, we make a nice duet. 

(I'm thinking Guns N' Roses next, I've just about exhausted my repertoire of show tunes.)

Ice and the occasional dose of Vicodin help. 

Mostly I take the medicine only when I don't have to get up in the morning, though. 

It makes me feel incoherent and slow and sludgy and disoriented on waking, and like I have eyeballs full of sand. It takes about 12 to 14 hours for a dose to completely wear off.  

That's one pill, folks.
I'm a cheap date.

Hate the side effects but love the temporary relief from the ache/pain and the sudden sharp reminders that I'm just not operating at 100% when I turn over in bed in the middle of the night. 

I sleep like a brick when I take it, too. Well except for the incredible technicolor freakshow that goes on in my dreams while under the influence... but that can be entertaining if one keeps the right attitude, yes?

I still like my physical therapist, too. He's a nice man, intelligent and easy to chat with, sense of humor etc... he's a lot like most of my friends, actually. Quick, articulate, quirky... I'm fairly comfortable seeing him for treatment.

He mostly doesn't hurt me. 

Much. 

Every once in awhile he surprises me and hurts me a little and we all know how much I love surprises from medical people.

The nature of the injury combined with therapy unfortunately causes me a bit of discomfort every time I have treatment (and for an hour or six after) but he hasn't contributed to my overload of medical anxiety so far.  

I don't feel panicky when I am driving over there for an appointment, and if you know me, you know that panic is usually bubbling just below the surface when I have to do anything medical or dental.

That's why I asked to be sent back to this place when I saw the doctor about my knee.
 
The staff there is professional and friendly. Between the shoulder and the knee, they have all taken very good care of me for a couple months now, and I appreciate it.

Shawn (the PT guy) provided a good explanation of what's going on with my knee last week, complete with a working knee model with a severed ACL.

Geez, talk about a graphic demo. No wonder the damn thing hurts!

Oh. I'm back. I know you didn't know I was missing, but



I just now got up and took Lyssa a piece of chocolate (Tami dropped off some chocolate for me yesterday-which-was-actually-Tuesday, just because. Have I mentioned how much I love my friend Tami? The chocolate is not the only reason, just so you know.) While I was up just now, I went to the bathroom, washed my hands, refilled the always empty soap dispenser (without ranting about being the only person in the house who knows how to do this and why the hell can't someone SEE THE DAMN DISPENSER IS EMPTY for goodness sake and doesn't this mean that the rest of you aren't even washing your hands!??) and washed my hands again. Talked to Eric about my big plans for Friday (when this posts it will actually be Friday. I have a day off because there is no school and I was not asked to work THANK GOODNESS.)

So anyway. 

I had a point here before I started rambling. 

 










ANYWAY. If you're still with me (and I wouldn't blame you if you were not, because my god, I've been typing for 15 minutes and still haven't said anything.) 

Wednesday morning, (I'm typing this post Wednesday night... I love being able to write posts ahead of time and set them to post when I want) I had one of my two PT appointments for the week.

Shawn asked me if I thought the therapy was helping. 

And I said,"I do think so." 

I went on to talk about the smaller amount of squishy water in the knee, the better range of motion and the fact that it's not as painful at the end of the day as it was a couple weeks ago.

And he said something about how we're strengthening it for surgery.

Aw hell.

I mean, I knew it. It's not really a surprise. But I guess I hadn't really thought about having to have TWO DAMN SURGERIES lately and was feeling pleased with my progress.

But I really haven't gotten anywhere at all. 

I'm just a grumpy, gimpy hamster, running like hell on a squeaky wheel.

::sigh:::

Oh, um... darn?

I'm so aggravated.

I tore the ACL. Technical term from the doctor? "Hanging by a thread." Also a brand new tear in the meniscus.

Yay,me.

I don't feel like talking about it now, and I don't know yet what will be done or when, since I have not seen the orthopedic doctor yet.

::sigh:::

Rrrrrrippppp!

Remember when I said I really should have purchased the extended lifetime warranty?

You know, when my tooth fell apart and I was still recovering from knee surgery?

I wonder if it's too late to get that warranty.
I mean, I know I'll have to pay extra for it, but it might pay off in the long run.

::sigh::

Friday, I went to work for two hours to serve lunch to the masses. It was not a good day for me to work, I woke up with one of the five worst headaches I've ever had.

Took half a tablet of Sumatriptan when I woke up at 6:15, and then, about an hour later, took the other half. Usually a half dose is enough to get the headache out, but not this time.

The timing was good, though. By the time I had to be at work, the headache had faded to a dark gray. Still there, but manageable.

But within the two hours I was to spend at work, it came back. I decided to leave early and finished all my stuff quickly. The last thing I did was to take out the lunch trash. It has to be thrown into a large dumpster outside, and the bag is heavy.

Now before the knee surgery, I'd swing it back a bit and pivot on my left knee and just sort of heave it into the dumpster. But since my knee still hurts a bit, I was trying to avoid that, and just swung the bag up with one arm instead. And I felt the large muscle in my right arm rrrrrip.
Owie owie owie.

I called the office on my way home from work and left a voice mail for our area manager to let her know what I'd done, just in case it got worse, or didn't get better. At the time my head hurt so much that I really didn't care.

So I came home and went to bed. Slept (well sort of) all afternoon. It was that pain-soaked kind of sleep that isn't restful, and isn't really even an escape, but you just can't help trying.

As soon as I could, I took another dose of migraine medicine. One is not supposed to take more than two doses in a 24 hour period. It's really not good for me, I know, but I'd rather have the possible side effects than the headache.

So on Saturday, my headache was a lot better, although I started out the day with another half dose of Sumatriptan.

My shoulder? Well, it hurts. It still hurts today. I'm glad I still have pain medication left over from my knee surgery, because it made it possible for me to sleep the last two nights.

I imagine I'll be heading to whatever doctor the company wants to send me to tomorrow.

Phooey.

In other, happier news, Lyssa comes home on Tuesday. Did I mention that I left her in John Day with my parents? She loves to visit them, and because of our relaxed schedule, she's able to go once or twice a year and spend a week or two.

I love that she has that relationship with her grandparents, knowing how much I treasure the time I had with mine. I know that she's making good memories and will always have that. I think it's important.

So that's the news. I accomplished NOTHING yesterday, and the house is, as usual, a disaster area.

We're heading out for our weekly date (the grocery store...woohoo) and I'll come home and try to find some order in the chaos.

Happy Sunday, y'all.

When it rains...

Maggie is still doing her weird walking in circles thing in the kitchen, but Matt put forth a new theory Thursday evening.

He said, "What if she's gone mostly blind in one eye and is walking in circles in that area because she can't find the way out?"

It actually makes sense. She's circling in the space enclosed by the cabinets, stove and dishwasher in the kitchen, and seems so disoriented, but once she's past, does okay. If that's what it is, I wouldn't feel good, but better, you know? If we help her by redirecting her, she can usually get going again.

The dryer is making a funny noise. I think it may be the timer, which is easily replaced if they still make the part. But the dryer was purchased in 1996. It may be time for a new one.

We're trying to refinance the house, though. And the appraisal company just took $475.00 out of our checking account.

They're supposed to show up Friday morning at 10 to do the appraisal.

With that money gone, it leaves, well, not a lot. Certainly can't afford to buy a new dryer right now.

Let's not forget that we still owe for Eric's crown and for the recent extraction of Lyssa's other two wisdom teeth.

And although this is worthy of a rant, I just don't have the energy right now... our fucking legislators in Salem have just screwed the entire state with their 'transportation package', so we're about to have more money blatantly stolen from us. Assholes.

Tomorrow is pay day, but all that really means is a temporary infusion of cash.

A great deal of it is spent already.

We need new tires. They're expensive. I don't want to drive far on the ones we have now.

Mom and Dad are having their 50th anniversary this summer, and I'll need some money to get to that, too.

My hours will be short over the summer, and I think they're about to get a LOT shorter, because I'll probably be recuperating from surgery for part of the summer.

My doctor called Thursday afternoon with the results from my MRI.

She said I have some scar tissue in the back of my knee from an old injury (only thing I can recall is an injury that happened when I was 16. Fell with my leg bent under me and then someone fell on top of it. POP.

I was on crutches for a couple weeks, but that was it.

And then, to add insult to injury, I have this:

Posterior Horn Tears of Medial Meniscus - Wheeless' Textbook of Orthopaedics

More knee information (probably interesting only to me, and only at this time) Medial meniscus - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Imagine how excited I am.

Dammit.

As I've mentioned before, we have insurance from DCS.

Doesn't Cover Shit.

We have an extremely high deductible and end up paying quite a lot out of pocket for any medical treatment we get, so who knows how much this will end up costing.

The sole advantage of having insurance is that one can at least obtain medical treatment without having to jump through a million hoops and possibly be turned away after all that work.

Now I have not seen the orthopedic doctor yet, and maybe this can be fixed without surgery, but my regular doctor didn't seem to think so.

However. Paying the difference between what my insurance covers and what the MRI place will charge me is made, well, not easier... but somehow more justified because they actually found something wrong.

Nope, it's not just all in my head. I would have been SO PISSED had they looked and found nothing wrong.

But how can I work? There's no way I can manage to walk around the zoo for six hours with a group of children. Or sweep floors or move big lunch coolers from the kitchen to the cafeteria to serve lunch to half the population of our area.

I can sit. I can limp. That's about it.

I can't take Vicodin because it messed with my BP, and I can't take Percocet because it makes me sick.

I guess that leaves Tylenol 3 with Codeine... but I don't have any.

The knee wakes me up about four times a night and I end up getting up and sitting in the living room at the computer sometimes.

Any insomniacs reading my blog?
Wanna IM with me?

Email me at AmiMental@gmail.com with your AIM name and I'll add you to my buddy list. (edited to add that I also have a yahooooooo account... so email me!!)

And keep reading. Next post is almost the last one about the Anti-homeschooler.

Patellar tendinitis

First, let me say how much it bothers me that it's not spelled TENDONITIS.

After all, they're tendons, not tendins.

My doctor said that my hubby was right... stay off it until the swelling goes down a bit, rest it and try not to over do.



So I was off work Monday and will be off again today.
I'll go back on Wednesday, but can't move furniture or carpets or anything. My crutches will accompany me. Woohoo.

Basically, I'll be useless at work except to help keep staff to student numbers in ratio.

Lyssa went with me to the doctor. She said for moral support. But I used her as a pack animal anyway. :)

It's weird. I can't walk, but I can drive just fine.

I thought I'd dredge up a medical joke to end this post. My brain is a little fuzzy, (Vicodin) so it took awhile.

After examining a woman in the emergency room, the doctor took her husband aside. "I don't like the look of your wife," he said gravely.

"Me neither, " the husband replied. "But she's a good cook and she's great with the kids."

Hmph.

And what is it with husbands, anyway? Yesterday, I called Eric to complain about the $25.00 cost of the crutch padding.

And he said, "Think of it as an investment. You're getting old and decrepit. You'll probably need them again."

I'm planning

To call in at work today.
The knee and these effing crutches are KILLING me.

I can't use them in the normal crutchy way, you see. (Hop on one leg and swing while using.)

Instead, I place the crutches, then I shuffle toward them. Then, I stop, place them again, and shuffle some more. I'm slow. I have them jammed into my armpits and both my armpits and hands HURT. (I know, wahhh... but they really do hurt. A lot.)

There's no way I can move carts and rugs and toys at work, so I will probably call Sunshine this morning and let her know that I won't be in.

I will definitely be calling my doctor first thing, too.

Eric had to put my socks on for me and tie my shoes yesterday. I will probably have to get Lyssa to help me with that today.

Eric went out looking for crutch pads Sunday evening, but could only find the same thing that's on the damn crutches already. If I'm going to be on them for awhile, I'll be ordering some pads from somewhere for sure.

Ugh.

I know in the general scheme of things a little sore knee is not such a big deal, but it is to ME. Can't sit for long in the same position, can't stand long, can't lie down long.

I hope Dr. Dirtball gives me some medicine that helps with the discomfort that's waking me up about 90 times a night, too. We have some Percocet in the cabinet, but I can't take them. They make me sick.

And, if all that whining wasn't enough for you, I also have a sore throat. It's not strep (because strep hits me like a freight train), just a sore throat. No fever or anything like that.

And since Eric went to the grocery store by himself yesterday evening, I haven't even had to have contact with any swine... so it's not THAT, either.

Since today already sucks, I think I'll do some typing practice.

Just call me

Hopalong.

I don't really fit the part, no bandanna or six-shooter. No pony. But I am sorta hopping. (Technically, it's shuffling.)

Remember when I decided Yoga was a good idea? That I wouldn't have the stress and strain of other kinds of exercise on parts that were too old and out of shape to be stressed and strained?

"I can do Yoga without huring myself! Yeah! There's a good idea! Yoga!"

Just add that to the list of famous last words.. including but not limited to, "Hey y'all! Watch this!'

I hurt my right knee. (Actually both of them, but the left one is much better now. Not great by any means, but I can use it and it doesn't make me cry when I move it.)

The right one was feeling sort of funny on Tuesday morning... kind of swollen, but it wasn't hurting. So I did my yoga workout. I did not feel a pop or anything, there was no 'ouch' moment.

But I guess I ouched it just the same.

::sigh::

Wednesday I was limping a bit, but managing.
Thursday was worse.
Friday... kill me now.

I kept thinking it would get better, you know? Did the ice and heating pad and ice and heating pad. Took lots of aspirin for the anti-inflammatory effects. Waited for it to improve.

Then, I had to walk about a block on Saturday for the training, and it just about did me in. I've been off it as much as possible, but it's not getting better. If anything, the longer I wait, the worse it gets.

Dammit.

Now I am not one to run off to the doctor for every little owie. We have insurance from the DCS company (Doesn't Cover Shit) and I pay all of it out of pocket every time anyone in the family visits the doctor.

So I did not call her.

I will call her on Monday, first thing. Eric wants me to go to the Immediate Care place up the road here, but I would really prefer to see my own doctor.

Eric went to the pharmacy while I was napping Saturday afternoon and picked up a pair of crutches for me.

I need them to get around because I. Can't. Walk.

Shit.

It's all in my head.

I know you're closely following my life and are breathlessly waiting for the next installment.

I don't blame you. It is exciting.

For example, yesterday.

We slept in. Got up around 9:30, which is way better than being up at 7 to get ready for a bed delivery, yes?

I had a little headache, which is becoming a way of life since we got the new bed. I know that little headaches are common for me anyway, but after I get a shower and have a little breakfast, I don't usually need to take anything to get rid of it.

Well, until we got the new bed. Now I end up taking either a couple Bufferin or Excedrin every morning.
Every.
Morning.

I can't smell that faint chemical smell now when I get into bed, but evidently it's still there. I don't have any other explanation.

I took two Excedrin with breakfast yesterday morning, but still had a headache and that pressure. I usually wait to see if it's going to develop into a migraine instead of taking one of those expensive damn pills right off the bat.

I hate taking them, they make me feel like I've been kicked several times by a small pony with large hooves. They make me sweaty, then I have to pee about four gallons in the next six hours, and after that, I am exhausted and sleep like a brick.

After I gave up soda more than a year ago, my migraines have shown up once a month, and are directly tied to hormonal activity. I can almost predict the moment they'll hit.

Until this week.

I started the week with a big one, even had to end up taking half a pill at work on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Last night, or rather this morning, about three, I woke up with a screamer. Got up and took one of my pills and went back to bed.

Now here's the strange part. Our morning routine has Eric up before me, and me sleeping a few more minutes while he gets ready for work. We don't communicate much during that time, neither one of us are very cheerful or friendly.

After he's ready for work, he comes in and wakes me up. I get up and hug him and wish him a good day and all that stuff, then I get started with my morning. I have time to veg in front of the computer, start to wake up, do my Yoga and get a shower etc before the kids get out of bed.

Today, I did not wake up when he opened the bedroom door. I woke up about ten minutes before seven because I had to pee AGAIN, and saw that he was gone.

I called him on the phone, and he told me that he had talked to me AND turned on a light in the bedroom. He said he knew I was still alive because I was snoring.

So what's the solution? We spent a LOT of money on the bed, and getting rid of it isn't an option, I don't think. I'm hoping that by leaving the blankets off during the day and airing it out that whatever residue is causing the problems will eventually dissipate, and I can go back to regular life.

It's a comfortable bed (It damn well ought to be) and I'm getting used to it. My electric blanket should arrive today or tomorrow and help things, too.

Meanwhile, I have my friends and acquaintances in cyberspace to whine to.

I'm being bullied

By a nasty cold. I think it's a cold. I really don't know. My nose is stuffy, I am running a fever, and I feel crappy.

My throat seems a little swollen, and every time I actually relax into sleep, it does this weird fluttery thing that makes it sound like a woodpecker in my head. This makes it impossible to rest very well. We had a hellacious storm during the night, too. Lots of rain and wind. I did not put the earplugs in because I figured the woodpecker noises would just be louder and no more helpful with sleep.

Last night, when I got home from work, I took a couple aspirin, ate a little soup, and did nothing but lie around. I called N's house (spoke to the machine) to tell her I wouldn't be over for Yoga this morning (not only do I feel crappy and not much like exercising, but what kind of friend gets sick then brings the 'bug' over to exercise?)

About 2 AM, I realized that the answering machine I spoke to was not hers. I dialed the wrong prefix. I know I did. So I will have to call her this morning and let her know that I'm not going to be over.

Anyway... the post with Eric's opinion about what should be done to handle a bully will have to wait until I'm more coherent. If I can't dial the phone number of a person I've known for six years, I probably wouldn't do a very good job writing it.

Going back to bed now until 8, when I will call N. Then, I will go back to bed until noon or so, get up, shower, and go to work. Excedrin will help me with that part, I think.

And since I almost certainly picked up the bug at work (remember, I work in a germ factory) I don't feel too bad about working while not feeling 100%.

Am I allowed to whine?

I'm thinking I want to whine a little here... Feel free to skip this post.

I understand that in the general scheme of things, my little petty whines are exactly that, but that doesn't mean I don't get to complain at least a little, right? My complaints are no less valid.

So far, every day this year I've awakened with a migraine. Knowing they're tied to hormones and that I probably am done with it for this month is a good thing, but I sure hate it when it's happening. I had that feeling of pressure all day on New Year's eve, and woke up on the 1st with a real screamer.

I don't know what one would call this, but I saw an interesting thing while my eyes were closed. I saw what I'd call a spinning disc, sort of like a warped LP, except it was a creamy ivory color and little golden numbers (in a very fancy, old-world font) were coming out from the middle and flying off the edges into fog. There was an endless supply of numbers being generated from the hole in the center. I saw this while I was awake... not sleeping. When I rubbed my eyes, the numbers moved faster.

I got up and took some migraine medication as soon as I could stand without the nausea. Ugh.

There's a weird side effect caused by the medication, too. Half a dose gets rid of the headache like magic. In one hour, it's gone. I'm very grateful for that. But.. if I take a shower more than an hour (and up to about four hours) after taking it, the hot water just about kills me. It hurts so much!! I know that Sumatriptan is a vascular drug, and that it opens up all the blood vessels. That may explain why my skin becomes so sensitive after I've had to take a dose, but it sure isn't a whole lot of fun. I kept turning the shower down, it was just too hot. Usually I'm the other way around... the water gets hotter and hotter until by the end of my shower it's nearly scalding. I love that. Well, except for after the medication.

Remember the bug I've had since October? I'm feeling much better, but I still have a cough. It's not the deep, hawk-up-a-chunk-of-lung-tissue-and-simultaneously-pee-my-pants cough I had for almost two months, but it's still pretty ugly on occasion. My right ear goes from clear to sort of sloshy about seven times a day, and hurts at night while I am sleeping.

Right now, I can't really hear out of it.

And yes, I know things could be worse. But I still get to whine on occasion. It's my blog, dammit.

Will we? Won't we?

They canceled school on Wednesday and TOTALLY could have had a full day.

Then, on Thursday, they started as a regular day, but it snowed and snowed, so they let the elementary school out early... by HALF AN HOUR!!

Sheesh.

So I still haven't had to be at work this week. Yesterday, I finished painting the Christmas cards, addressed them and mailed them, did a load of laundry, shopped for some groceries, paid the bills online, and took pictures of kids and hubby and the giant snowball, which now sits in the field across the street at the school.

If they do not close the schools today (Friday) I will have to be at work at 6:30. AM. Dammit.

Sunshine's dad is having heart surgery and she cannot be there to open.
I could use the hours, but I really don't wanna.

By the time this posts I will either be back in bed, trying to drift back into sleep... or driving slowly and carefully all the way across town. Shivering. Swearing. But hopefully not swerving. Which is unnerving.

Hmph.

::cough:: :::cough:::

I'm still sick.

I am coughing and coughing and it's not doing me any good. It's freaking out parents when they come to pick up their kids in the afternoon and I'm working to hawk out chunks of lung tissue. (Yes, I know that's disgusting.) I have reassured as many of them as I can that I just finished a course of antibiotics and am not contagious.

I'm tired of coughing and coughing and producing nothing but a little pee after a particularly hard coughing spell. I'm tired of hearing my throat wheeze while I'm trying to sleep. I'm tired of coughing until my head hurts and I can't get a breath.

So I have an appointment on Friday to see Dr. Dirtball. I would have made an appointment for Wednesday, but I had to take Lyssa for the ultrasound. I would have tried for Thursday, but the doctor had to take her son for some medical testing. (Hope everything is okay with that, I will ask her when I go in.)

So yeah, at least one more day of this shit.

Perhaps this is one of the reasons I'm just not feeling the usual Christmas cheer?

Oh. And it's my birthday. Just past this post, you'll see the award I got just for being born!!

I'm better?

Still not great. Saw Dr. Dirtball.

She said I'm sick.

Then she prescribed some Amoxicillin and some cough syrup. I like my cough syrup. It's gooood cough syrup. Makes me a little loopy, though. I mean more than usual.

Reading makes my head hurt, so I've watched several movies. Stuff I haven't seen in years.

I saw Enemy Mine, Amadeus, all three Indiana Jones movies and I'll be watching The Man from Snowy River when I go back to lie down.

Now the bad thing is, the company I work for really has no subs. When a person needs to take time off, people cope, but sometimes a site is out of legal ratio. Sunshine left me a voice message today letting me know that it wasn't really a good time for me to take the day off. Not that she said it that way, but yeah.

I washed a baking dish and threw some chicken thighs in the oven for dinner, tossed some laundry into the washer and went to bed again.

And that's where I'm headed now. It's 7:20 pm on Monday.

Nite nite.