I really do want to do better at this blogging thing.  I do.  But there's just not much to blog about.  Especially here--my health is OK for now.  Not much going on. Just working, drinking a lot of water, going home.

Oh!  Peyton's best friend, Morgan, and her Dad are staying with us for a while.  Peyton's thrilled, and I'm thrilled, but also very frequently overwhelmed.  I'm no longer used to sharing my space with another adult.  It feels really weird.  I actually pretty much hate it. They also have a dog and a cat.  The cat is just hiding from everyone now, which is totally fine, but their dog is a total instigator.  She likes to pick play fights with Roxy, but Roxy isn't used to that, so she takes it very seriously and treats it like a fight.  It gets a little tense.  She also likes to try to lick Bishop's junk, and he DEFINITELY doesn't like that.  So my house is kind of a dog fight club.  Ugh.

This is all pretty challenging for my easily overwhelmed, introverted self.  I don't feel like I have anywhere to hide and I'm not getting that alone time to recharge my batteries like I need.  So I know I'm a complete basket case and I'm taking it out on everyone, and I need to stop, but I'm having a hard time coping with all of that in general. And then I feel really bad for being such an awful person, which makes it even worse, and for the past week, my anxiety has been ramped up as high as it gets, 24/7. I'm not very fun to be around right now. And I'm not sleeping well because of the anxiety, so I'm also very, very tired.  I might make it a super early night and take a sleeping pill or something. Any port in a storm, eh?

It's not all stress, though.  Morgan helps around the house A LOT.  More than my kids do. Yesterday, she helped me make homemade hot pockets--we did chicken cheddar broccoli and also chicken bacon ranch.  Everyone seemed to love them--and it was Morgan's first time making bread.  She did it all on her own, too!

I wish I had better things to update you on, but I don't.  The house we live in has no railing going up the front steps, so I'm regaining balance by force--I guess that's something I can share.  I mostly just feel like an old woman any more.  I wish I didn't, but here I am.  Not a lot of choice.

Maybe in my next post I'll tell you a little bit about my job.  It's pretty great, and I definitely love it (most days).

Hello, anyone who's still reading this.

It's been an eventful couple of years.  Let's dig right in.

My divorce was final on February 21, 2017. Wasn't very sad about it then, not very sad about it now.  It needed to happen, and he was already seeing someone before our divorce was final, so I'm really sure he didn't care either.  Although he pretended to.  That's a story for another blog.  At any rate, he's engaged now.  Moving on.

Last year, in March, we moved from Indiana to Mississippi to follow a job.  It was a great job, a well paying job, and I thought I fit into the company well.  However, once I got there, the job changed from a staying-in-place job to a constant-travel-to-Nashville job, which was weird, because they knew I'm a single Mom.  They just didn't seem to care.  That summer, in late June, we went back to Colorado for a quick trip, and I had two more small strokes.  When I came back to Mississippi, I was fired.

Yes, that was legal.  It's a right to work state, they could let me go for any reason.  Also, I hadn't been there an entire year, so I did not get FMLA coverage yet.  This wasn't heartbreaking, the job wasn't right for me and working for a company that would require that level of travel from a single Mom was a terrible idea.

It wasn't too long before I found another similar job, and we moved to Collinsville, IL (WAAAAAAAAAY at the southern end of IL.)  At work, I'm less than five miles from the river, so just this side of St. Louis.  We're much more at home here than we were in Mississippi, so we consider this a very good move.  We're happy.

Peyton is now 15, and almost done with her first year of High School.  She hates it.  Predictably.  Right now, she has turquoise hair, although we were trying for green.  She's also taller than me, which is completely disrespectful and I'm kinda lowkey mad about it. I guess I'll die mad about it, since I can't exactly force her to shrink!

Charlotte is 10 and is in fifth grade.  She's reading like a champ and consumes books like some people consume food.  We're about to start a book review blog, which I'm hoping I'll do better at than this one.  Time will tell.

My health has been pretty much OK, but when the weather gets cold, I have a lot of achiness and some moments of more acute pain.  I guess that's all to be expected and just something I'll have to get used to and learn to live with, as there's no doctor that I've seen who seems to care or who is willing to do anything about it.

Anyway, I'm still around, still occasionally think about posting.  Maybe I'll try to do better, maybe I won't.  Again, time will tell!  Have a good day!

Well, hello again!  It's been a while, I know, and a lot has happened.  Let me catch you up. (How cute is this little girl waving at you right now?  I love her!)

1) It has been more than two years since my stroke(s).  I'm doing well.  My leg and arm are still not at

pre-stroke capacity, but I manage.  I walk with a pretty solid limp, but I'm choosing to ignore that in favor of the first two words of this sentence--namely that I WALK.  Anything else is just gravy.


2) My shoulder is almost complete unfrozen.  Yay!


3) I just got done with a 2-month second job to help out with some bills because:


4) In May of this year, I filed for divorce.  I moved out of the house we shared in August.  Two things on that--moving sucks rocks and also moving is EXPENSIVE.  I'll catch up--I'm getting there, but starting up a new household is challenging.  Anyway, it's a bummer, but something that needed to happen.  Neither of us was happy and we both deserve to be.  I don't know if it's a relief to him, but not having to be constantly unhappy is a relief to me.  It's nice to have my own place.  I feel sort of like a real adult for the first time.


Along the way, of course, there have been other little things--I've been using my insulin pump for a year and my A1C is down to 7.1.  That's the best it has been since diagnosis.  The pump is a lifesaver!  I've been retaining about 30 pounds of water for a while now, and we can't figure out why.  So we threw a couple of pills at it and now I pee all the time.  So I've got that going for me.  I've got the girls the majority of the time, so we're settling down to yet ANOTHER new normal.  It's always an adventure around here!  Honestly, though, I'd probably be bored otherwise.


How is everyone else doing?  Anything new going on out there?

One year ago today, I had my second stroke.

OK, well, I don't know that the first was a big deal, since I didn't even know I'd had it until I had the second.  It's certainly arguable that the second stroke was the one that changed my life in a million small ways, so it's the one I'm counting.

Plus, I have no idea when I had the first, so there's no telling what anniversary I'd have to count it as.

Anyway, today was kinda hard from a mental standpoint.  Not so much physically--I basically did nothing but metabolize, so it wasn't so rough.  But, yesterday was rough because it was one year from my very last "normal" day...the last day I really felt like me.  And today is even more rough, because even though I didn't know it was a stroke I was having, it was.

But, everyone keeps telling me to cheer up and look at all that I've done...blah, blah, blah.  Apparently people can't let me have sad for one day.  Apparently that is a difficult concept.  I know everyone means well, but geez.  Sad is just a thing I'm going to do today and maybe tomorrow.  And yesterday.  Hell, I don't know how long, but losing myself, as I knew me, is something I'm just going to mourn and be a little bluesy about, and everyone can just kinda get over it.  Or don't watch.  Whatever.  Just don't expect me to make you feel better about it.

They do kind of have a point.  It's been a big year.  Let's just look at some of the things I've accomplished.

1) I relearned how to eat.  The stroke knocked out the left side of my tongue, and I didn't know how much you rely on your tongue to clear your cheeks of food that you've chewed and now need to digest.  Watching me eat was not a pretty thing immediately after my discharge.  Not pretty at all.

2) I learned how to cook, do laundry and achieve daily tasks with a walker.  That's a little more difficult than  you'd think.  Unless your kitchen is specifically designed to be evenly accessible, navigating from fridge to counter to stove is tricky when you have to bring a walker with you.  I am glad I was able to ditch it by October!

3) I learned that I CAN rock short hair.  The whole fat girls looking like pinheads with short hair is bullshit.  See?!

3) I relearned how to walk.  This was a huge thing, something I thought might be an insurmountable obstacle many times.  There were days when I thought I'd never lose the walker.  When I moved from the walker to a cane, I thought that would be as far as I got.  I still have a limp.  Standing up and getting out of the car are still things I have a hard time with--I probably always will.  But, I can walk.  I can jog (OK, but it's not like I'm doing that.  Let's be realistic.), and I can even wear heels some days.  All in all, this is the accomplishment I'm most proud of.

4) I got used to my now crooked smile.  If possible, I look even more like my brother now!

5) I learned SQL.  I still hate nested queries.  Nonethless, I learned it.  I got a B.  Not too shabby for starting a rough semester in the middle of inpatient rehab.

6) I graduated.  Wait.  I graduated WITH HONORS.  My degree says "with distinction".  I earned my Masters degree.  I got all dressed up in a cap, gown and hood, and I walked across that stage and got my degree folder.  Hey, I even wore heels!  I needed a hand up the steps and down on the other side, but I'm not so bad at asking for help anymore, which brings me to:

7) I learned that it's OK to ask for help when you need it.  I was so used to being the one who toughed it out no matter the difficulties, who was strong and never needed help that this was a hard one for me.  I always assumed people would think I was weak if I needed help, that I'd loose my status as the strong, competent one.  It turns out that the people who really love me, who deserve to be in my life don't care.  They're happy to help because they love me.  They know that if the situation were reversed, I'd happily help them.  I've had to trust my support net, and they've been there for me wholehartedly.  So this is two-fold...I also learned who my real friends are.

8) I learned that some days are filet mignon, some days are PB&J.  Some days I can give it my all, I can be more like I was.  Some days it's easy to see the stroke as just "a thing that happened" and not a major life-altering event.  Those days are awesome.  I love those days.  Some days I can only do what I can do to get through until bedtime.  The PB&J days aren't often, but they happen.  And that's OK, because PB&J is OK.  It's not my favorite, but it's enough to get me by.

9) I learned that it's OK to say "no" sometimes.  And it's OK to quit.  We get taught to be limitless, to keep going no matter what, but it's OK to know your own limits.  It's OK to give up and it's OK to give it another shot at another time.  It's OK to say that you don't want to do something or that you can't or you don't feel up to it.

10) I learned that with a sense of humor, you can get through anything.

I learned a lot more than on this list.  I learned how to shave your legs when you can't stand on one of them and how to use the toilet when you can't use the muscles in the back of one of your legs.  I learned some other gross stuff, too, but that's not something you need to read about--or that I need to share.  It was a big year, and yeah, that stuff is all important to celebrate and think about.  But, not today.  Today I'm just gonna wallow in it.  Wallow with some cream cheese, because I can't have ice cream.  Boo.

I'm not even kidding.  I would kill you and not think twice or even feel bad.  That's what this diet has done for my sanity.

The upshoot here, don't bring carbs near my person if you value your life.

And garlic bread...I'd give my left nipple for garlic bread.

I tried to make a pizza crust tonight that I was assured wouldn't be the consistency of fun foam (you know, that crafty shit that most kids' projects in elementary school are made of?), wouldn't taste like egg, and wouldn't cost me 97,846 carbs for my day.

IT DID NOT DELIVER.  On any front, really.  Also, it was made from Psyllium husk, which, if you ever read product labels, is the top ingredient in most fiber powders.

Guys, I didn't really need any help with regularity.  I eat so much fat in my diet that my lower GI is practically a slip-n-slide.  Fiber is not a thing I'm epically concerned about--other than this: I can subtract dietary fiber from the carbs on the nutrition label and get my net carb count, which is all I really have to count against my total.

You know, that whopping ONE SERVING of carbs I'm allowed.

This is the trend I'm noticing with all keto recipes--they look good, they sound OK, the ingredients aren't disagreeable, but you put them together and they universally taste something like ass.  The one thing I've found that I do enjoy is yogurt made from coconut milk.  It's edible.  That and protein shakes are pretty much what's keeping me alive right now.  This can totally explain my sunny disposition or lack thereof.

I'm considering going vegetarian so I don't have to keep ruining decent meat.  And because I've eaten so much cheese, I think I can understand the language of mice.

I don't even know if that mice/cheese thing is true.  I just needed a good thing to end that sentence with and I'm so tired (low-carb flu, because I cheated and had small french fries, which caused me to gain FIVE pounds, so now I have to get back into ketosis, which might require a blood sacrifice.  I'm sure it's going to happen to the next fucker who pops popcorn at work.  ASSHOLES.) that I can't brain today.  I'm not sure I can be reliably counted on to spell my name correctly.  It's a good thing I have business cards.

Anyway.  What was I saying?  Something.  Oh, right...vegetarian.  The way I figure is this:  Eating has become a miserable chore, so I might as well.  I just don't think I'm supposed to live off of cream cheese.  I have coconut oil and MCT oil and coconut milk....I don't think it would be too big of a switch right now.

I'll be sure to keep you posted, though.

Well, my MRI showed no damage to my rotator cuff.  No adhesions, either.  So, I got a cortisone shot that really didn't do any good, and physical therapy.

I won't lie, I'm disheartened.  And I really don't want more physical therapy.  I know it does good, but I tried that before the MRI and nothing.

It's not like I was hoping for a rotator cuff injury.  BUT, it would have been an answer.  And now I still have plenty of pain (and the cortisone didn't do a damned thing), and no answer as to why. 

This is what I hate about the whole diagnostic process.  I hate chasing problems and receiving no answer.  Is this it, then?  We don't know, so just suck it up and deal with the pain?  I don't love that solution.  I don't want to take anti-inflammatories every day, and I'm not comfy with just never using my arm again.  I'm only 37!  That's a lot of time left to be unable to do anything with my left arm at all!

I don't know what's next.  I'll go see the doctor again in June, and we'll see.  Whatever.

I did get my eyes checked and my prescription is worse, but NO retinopathy, and the cotton wool spots I had back when I was pregnant with my youngest are unchanged.  So there's that.  I took the little monsters in to get their eyes checked and surprise, surprise, both need glasses.  Thing 2 has a lazy eye and Thing 1 needs BIFOCALS, for shit's sake.

I can't handle my life any more.  I really can't.

So, a post or two ago, I mentioned that I had fallen getting out of the shower last December.  And because I can't overcome the part of me that thinks "Tough it out, you just need to take it easy for a bit and you'll get better", I didn't mention it to my doctor until April.

I know.  Stupid, huh?

Anyway, the frozen shoulder thing isn't what it is.  And nerve pain isn't what it is.  So yesterday, I went and got one of these.  And it was about as fun as the one I had last July--although they gave me headphones this time and I got to listen to a classic rock station.  That played Def Leppard.

I am totally old.

ANYWAY, it was claustrophobic and sucky and it took about 20 minutes.  I have a coworker who says that MRIs put her to sleep, and I can't even imagine how that's possible.  Even getting past the small space, which actually wasn't so bad this time, but I think mostly because I could see the ceiling  outside the back end.  But the NOISES are awful!  Clicking and thumping--I could hear it over the music.

Anyway, I don't know the results.  At this point, it might be a reasonable assumption that I did some damage to my rotator cuff.  I won't know until I can talk to the doctor on Monday.  I don't know what to hope for any more--if it is rotator cuff, it'll mean surgery, which I've heard hurts like the dickens.  At least, though, that would have an end.  If it's NOT a rotator cuff tear, then we still don't know what it is and there's no end in sight.

Neither option makes me happy.  I do think it'd be nice to use my left arm again, though.