Showing posts with label furbabies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label furbabies. Show all posts

Monday, June 13, 2016

Something Light-Hearted

First let me thank you for the outpouring of support.  I love reading any comments and knowing that there are people praying for me and that I am successful in my journey.  Most days I think you have more confidence in me than I do in myself.  For that, please know that I am so appreciative.

Now for the light-hearted part.  All of my writings have been sooooo serious lately.  I decided it was time for something amusing (at least to Keith and me).

This is Casey (you've already "met" him):


And in case you've forgotten or are new to the blog - and because I like to brag on my furbabies, here are some more, although this one is about Casey specifically:






 Silly Casey








<------ One of my favorite pictures of the big guy.






Sorry the pix are so disjointed.  Blogspot won't let me move them around much to be all even and equal..  Oh well.  C'est la vie.

Anyway, Keith and I decided to do a DNA test for Casey.  Yes, it sounds ridiculous, but everyone who sees him sees something different.  The rescue told us that he was a shepherd mix.  We got the results over the weekend.  If you're not friends with me on Facebook, take a stab at what breed you think he is.  While you're at it, feel free to use the "join this site" opportunity above.  I make no promises that this will always make it to Facebook - I am a bit distracted, if you know what I mean...

THANK YOU again!

Monday, May 23, 2016

Counting the Hours

Yep, that's right -- surgery's tomorrow.  I have to be downtown on the early side, but that means surgery will be over earlier and hubby will be able to get home to our furbabies so they don't wither away to nothing (yeah, right -- spoiled kids).  My first call this morning said to be there at 11:15, but later got a call that there was a cancellation and asked me to be there at 8:45.  While we'll be in rush hour traffic ( which seems extra horrible around here with construction, lane closures, and roads not built for the amount of traffic traveling them daily... this area has been built-up beyond belief), hubby will be able to get home that much earlier.  Casey (the big pup) will be in charge and will eat anyone who tries to enter unauthorized!

So, it's the ol' gastric sleeve, attempt #2.  Same surgeon, same hospital, same anesthesiologist (I hope!) and same pacu nurse (I hope!).  I know I'll get top quality care and then the real work begins.  They want me sitting in a chair shortly after I get to my room (I imagine they'll let me take a snooze first) and then walking the halls by the end of the day.  I hope I'm up for it because all I've heard from anyone is walk, walk, walk.  Not only does it help prevent blood clots, but it helps with healing.  I don't understand the ins and outs of most things medical, but I suspect that if I'm in one position too long, my "pouch"/sleeve will get too comfortable there and it will be more painful to move when I finally would get up.

As far as the failure and my blood pressure:  I've been working with my PCP to stop one of my bp meds (first in half with 2 bp checks the following week, then stopped altogether with another 2 bp checks).  I saw my pulmonologist today and they said my bp was "just right" (or perfect, or something to that effect) to them.  In my eyes, it was a little elevated, but I was told by the surgeon's office not to take my other bp med today and that they'd prefer to handle high bp in the OR vs. low bp.

So, as it stands now, the plan is:

  1. Arrive and go to the admission area (assuming that we got through traffic without being killed)
  2. Put on the oh-so-fashionable hospital gown (and the paper one; I don't get the more comfy cloth one until after surgery)
  3. Head to pre-op and hope for the wonderful anesthesiologist to find a good vein
  4. Speak with the surgeon, who will tell me that he got a good night's sleep (he did last time)
  5. Enter OR and go night-night
  6. Wake up in PACU, hopefully to the smile of the wonderful nurse from last time.
  7. Head to room and have ice chips  (hopefully)
  8. Wednesday:  have a barium swallow test (which is as delightful as it sounds, although this one will be far less complicated than the one I had in the past because they are looking only to make sure the pouch is proper.
  9. Sip water.  SIP.  WATER.
  10. Thursday, if all goes according to plan, HOME!


Hubby will be working from home on and off Wednesday-Friday and is off for Memorial Day on Monday.  Then our problem child will go to daycare.  I won't be able to bend at the waist, so I can't put her leash on.  I also can't get them water if they need it and a number of other things.  I have my enormous shoe horn - again, not being able to bend at the waist.

Keeping prayers on my heart for a positive outcome and that my anxiety doesn't take over.  I'd love if you could do the same.

Over and out...

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Dear Fat People (link), Followed by My Musings....

I'm going to just post the link to this video and a response.

I am one of those "obese" people.... I am super obese or morbidly obese.  You may have seen this video already.  In fact, since I've been gone for a while, I missed all of the hoopla surrounding this.  I'm glad I did.  I'm in a pretty vulnerable place right now and hearing all of this (I'm sure it was all over Facebook, too!) may have done me a lot of harm.  I am not a fan of the language they use, but I think it gets the point across.

I'd like to know who got together and decided what BMI is and what weight/height determines your BMI.  Several years ago I was trying to determine my BMI and came across these numbers (I'm sorry, I've forgotten the site so cannot reference it directly):

>18.5 = underweight
18.5-24.9 = "normal"
25-29.9 = overweight
30-34.9 = obese
35-39.9 = severely obese
40-49.9 = morbidly obese
50-59.9 = super obese

Another stat I found at that time was that the CDC says a person who is 5'5" and 180 lbs has a BMI of 30.  Yes, that is heavy, but obese?  I think we're putting ourselves in these boxes that force us to reach a certain number, be it weight or BMI.  We're trapped by that number, as if it defines who we are.  I am fat and it is the first thing people notice about me, making it the last thing sometimes.  Hubby and I switch between 2 different eateries before we go to the grocery store.  We often have the same servers.  They often won't recognize us until they see me.  I am fat.  I am memorable because of it.  That is truth.

Here is the NIH BMI calculator.  Frankly, I find it absurd.  I once found myself getting excited that I was severely obese.  I had lost enough weight that my BMI made me slightly less likely to die from the effects of being a fat chick.

What are your thoughts?  How do you determine when you've reached a goal you have in mind for losing weight?  Personally, I want to walk up a flight of stairs without getting out of breath.  I'd like to take my dogs for a long walk.  I'd like to fit in a bathroom stall comfortably.  I'd like to take walks with my husband.  I'd like to not squish my husband in an airplane - I mean you have to admit that you or someone you know is thankful they aren't next to the fat girl on an airplane.  I'd like to be comfortable in my clothes (being comfortable in my body is too far off to be realistic; I've spent 43+ years hating myself and my body so that won't get fixed by losing weight).  I'd like to go into a medical appointment and be told that I have to lose weight - some docs have gone so far as to say that I need to lose 150 lbs, as if that will solve all of my problems.  I'd like to shop in a store and not be limited to clothes in a catalog, hoping they fit.  I actually hit the last one about this time last year, but both my husband and myself went on some binges.  My emotional eating came out in full a lot and I gained back all the weight and more.  Now I have to lay on my bed and suck my stomach in after putting on jeans or shorts and sitting in them for a bit to stretch them out so they will hopefully button and zip.  Even then, it's quite a chore to get them on again.

So, those are my musings immediately after hearing of this video and watching it, as well as the response.  I do want to add that I accept the responsibility for each and every bite of food I put in my mouth.  It is my doing that I can't walk well.  I also want to say that my age (43), my medications, and both of those add in to a horrible metabolism, making it even more difficult to lose weight.

I'd really love to hear others' thoughts.

Monday, May 18, 2015

A Formal Introduction, 4 1/2 years too late

I'll start at the very beginning, a very good place to start.  Ok, so we've established that I love musicals, especially The Sound of Music.  But that's not even barely a snippet of my life.

I'm 43 years old.  I'm a Disney fanatic.... seriously, a freak about Disney!

I also have a mental illness.  I have suffered from depression on and off for 30 years.  Currently I am on disability for what has now been diagnosed as bipolar II.  It's been not quite 15 years since I last worked.  I was a social worker and one who was seriously burnt out at that.  I have a degree in psychology.  I switched over to working in HR for the same agency for the last 6 months, hoping I could keep up my pace.  I was referred to a psychologist and it was shortly after that when I took the HR job.  That was when I wound up in a psych ward for the first time.  To be clear, it was voluntary.  I wasn't tied down to the table and fed drugs and given IVs with all sorts of funky juices in them.  That, my friends, is the movie version of a psych ward/hospital.

Having been on dozens of meds and even more combos, I was running out of options.  So, I have had close to 80 ECT treatments (you may know it as shock therapy/treatment).  The first 7 kept me out of the hospital for 4 years after annual hospitalizations.  When I started to get really sick again, my therapist suggested I have a consult with another hospital which offers ECT.  The psychiatrist refused to do it, saying I had borderline personality disorder.  A few years later, after more meds, combos and hospitalizations, I went back to that same hospital and had another consult with the exact same psychiatrist.  He approved me for the treatment.  While I was inpatient, I did 3 treatments each week.  Outpatient I was able to do 1.  The doc would have preferred more, but I had no ride the other days.  I was receiving what is known as "bilateral" and was at the maximum "dose."

In 2013 I wound up in the hospital medically and had to cancel my scheduled treatment.  It gave me pause and I decided that the negative effects outweighed any benefit I was still receiving.  My last treatment was December, 2012.  It's hard to separate out what symptoms are from the depression and which are due to the ECT, plus I have a bunch of medical problems, including a stroke.  There is no knowing.  What is medical?  Psychological?  ECT-based?

My memory loss is significant, but like I said, what is the cause?  My therapist told me that the benefits of the ECT would be short-lived, but I kept plugging along.  Then I made that decision.  I had reached the point where it was time to move along in my treatment.  My treatment team was excited about the decision, but as much for the fact that I made it and there was no doctor telling me to stop.

It's hard to decide when to tell someone about mental illness and ECT - both have such stigma.  The way I see it, if everyone keeps quiet, the stigma will remain.  It's ok for people to ask questions because that's the way the word will get out that it's nothing like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.  I welcome questions about my illness and my treatments.  I would prefer people educate themselves than make ignorant decisions.  After all of my treatments and a dozen hospitalizations, I've gotten somewhat vocal.  I mean, when push comes to shove there aren't a lot of explanations for my not working since I appear healthy - and am incredibly good at pretending I'm fine, putting on "the mask" and whatever else you want to call it.

What else?  My mental illness seems to be such a huge part of my life that I wanted to take this opportunity to get it out there in a fashion that doesn't just say it in a casual way.  Other very important parts of my life...  I think I've mentioned that I'll be married 20 years in December.

<--- That's my love.





We have 2 cats and 2 dogs, all rescues.




The kitties are siblings.  We went to adopt one but couldn't bear the thought of leaving the other one, especially knowing how people are ignorant and won't adopt black kitties because of some silly superstition.






The dogs we're told are a shepherd mix (left) and a vizsla mix (right).  For the record, we didn't know either, but a vizsla is a Hungarian hunting dog. Note: hunting dog = we have our hands full!


One all-encompassing part of our lives is that we are born-again Christians.  Fear not, I won't be sending subliminal messages or preaching at you, so please don't give up on my blog for that.  We have a very strong faith and have recently begun a new journey with a new church family (after our former church dissolved).  We attempt to keep our lives Christ-centered in what we do, but are awful sinners and fail at every turn.  We try and that's all He asks of us.

Ok, so, my hubby is a computer systems engineer (with a chemistry degree - smarty pants), although I prefer to call him a computer geek.  It covers all bases.  He is such a blessing here at home.  Since I am too sick to work, he does so much around here.  If we had laundry on the same floor as where we dirty the darn stuff, I could pick up that chore (most of the time).  We'd love to get a ranch style home, but now just isn't the time.

I was a social worker, which covers a load of jobs.  For me, with my degree in psychology I first worked in a group home with 12 adults suffering from mental illness - sort of ironic, right?  I still have incredibly fond memories of many of those incredible men and women.  I credit one woman with helping me lose 40 lbs before my wedding.  She was on my caseload and one of her goals was to walk every day.  My daily time with her was spent joining her on those walks.  Another man was in a military academy when he got sick and had to end his hopes of being in the service.  The list could go on.  They were so special to me.  Heck, they even threw me a surprise bridal shower.  Extraordinary!  My next job was working with adults with developmental disabilities (I think there is now a new name, but that's what it was called when I worked) who were living with host families.  I put a lot of miles on my car and loved my clients and most of the families.  It all took a lot out of me.  The final 6 months of my employment with them was working as an HR coordinator.  It took off the pressures of one position, but added having to learn an entirely new and unfamiliar field.  You know what happened after that.

I spent ages 2-16 as a dancer.  First was ballet and at age 10 (?) I added in jazz.  My hope was to go to Julliard (ok, let's make that a dream... a far off dream), but those hopes were dashed when, after many, many injuries, I broke my knee and needed surgery.  I was told any further dancing would be out of the question.  I also played violin, starting in 3rd grade and through the first year of college.  I also played clarinet, starting (late) just before 7th grade and all the way through college.  In high school there was marching band and concert band and at the time, if you were in one, you were in the other.  It was very time-consuming.  The Fall held football games weekly and practice two weeks a night, plus competitions for all of October and some other weeks.  I was able to participate in the Miss America parade one year and my senior year we marched in the 3:00 parade in Disney World!!!!  It was like a dream come true.  We went to competitions annually, including Virginia Beach, Myrtle Beach, and Toronto.  High school orchestra was small, but I do remember us going to a competition in Toronto (because it was the week after the band one!).  In college, it was simply concert band and we did one performance at the end of each semester.  College orchestra consisted of basically a quartet or sometimes a quintet, depending on who showed up.  It wasn't worth it for me, so I left it go.

As you can see, music is an enormous part of my life.  It is also for the mister.  He is a drummer.  We lived in neighboring towns and our football teams competed, as did we compete as bands each weekend.  We were on the same fields a lot and never even knew it!  We actually met at a Hallmark shop.  I started working there when I was 18.  He was an established employee.  We worked there until we got married.  After about 6 months of that we couldn't take so much togetherness and decided we'd stop working at the shop.  I'm still partial to Hallmark cards, though ;)

I love to write, as you can probably tell and am considering putting some of my journal writings into a book.

Hub and I love to travel.  It's not only Disney, although Disney World and Disney Cruise Line are our favorites, we enjoy doing most travelling.  Keith grew up going to Ocean City, NJ every year and we kept that up for a bit.  We'll now go down for a day, maybe his birthday.  This past summer we were financially forced to re-schedule our Disney cruise and went to Ocean City, MD and loved it!  We had been there once before but this experience was different - not better or worse, just different.  Now, it was Cycle Week - and no, it wasn't bicycles.  It was LOUD down there and we'd certainly chose another week to go.  We went down to the barrier islands several times and were able to see a bunch of wild ponies.  That was pretty incredible.  We're headed on another cruise to Bermuda soon and are headed to Alaska on Disney Cruise Line later this year.  Like I said, we LOVE to travel!

I'm pretty sure this is long enough without me blabbering on and on about stuff - I'm sure I'll keep doing that as time goes by.  For now, if you made it through this, thank you!

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

The Day After (from the eyes of someone who can't have kids)

Mother's Day is a bear for me and for thousands of other women.  I have a Mom and she is AMAZING!  I don't want to discount that.  I just want to point out that there are women from all walks of life who are unable to bear children.  Yes there are fertility treatments, but they didn't work for my husband and me, and they aren't successful for many couples.  I am absolutely an advocate for adoption and have a very dear friend who is adopted.  My husband and I attended a seminar on adoption and we spoke with the director before putting in time (on both our part and the agency's) and was open about my mental illness.  At that point, I was in remission, but she essentially said that we'd be rejected because of my bipolar and it would be more difficult to be approved when we applied later.  So yeah, I am incredibly sensitive to Mother's Day.  I cannot and will not ever be a mother, other than my furbabies.  My husband and I will not have anyone to pass down antiques which have been in the family for generations.  Our lines will be the end.  So yes, while I'm sensitive to many things, this is an exceptionally difficult season for me.

I am taking an excerpt from this blog.  The entire blog post is really worth reading.  I also posted it to my other blog but felt it was something that should be put out there.  Too many women are pained by Mother's Day and it's due, in part, from ignorance.  I hope to use this arena to hopefully make some changes in that ignorance.  So, please read this and please don't hesitate to share!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you
To those who lost a child this year – we mourn with you
To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains – we appreciate you
To those who experienced loss through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you
To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment – we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is.
To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms – we need you
To those who have warm and close relationships with your children – we celebrate with you
To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children – we sit with you
To those who lost their mothers this year – we grieve with you
To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother – we acknowledge your experience
To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood – we are better for having you in our midst
To those who have aborted children – we remember them and you on this day
To those who are single and long to be married and mothering your own children – we mourn that life has not turned out the way you longed for it to be
To those who step-parent – we walk with you on these complex paths
To those who envisioned lavishing love on grandchildren -yet that dream is not to be, we grieve with you
To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year – we grieve and rejoice with you
To those who placed children up for adoption — we commend you for your selflessness and remember how you hold that child in your heart
And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising –we anticipate with you
This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you.

5/12/15 Addendum: I am so sorry that the font was so small and have corrected that problem.  Also, I apologize for the annoying background from where I pasted from the other blog, but I have no control over that.  I hope it wasn't too bothersome.