se1289's Friends

I'm looking for a good psychiatrist that takes patients on weekends or evenings. Anyone in Chicago know of a good one?  If I can't fine one, I'll have to work one in for a lunch break.

I had to go back to the doctor for this lump that came up - but I'm okay.

I had horrible Metformin side effects yesterday. I thought I was going to pass out. Handling food much better today.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Hope I get out early.

Thanksgiving was held at my Mom's house. As her only daughter, I went into overdrive the day before, helping clean/dust/vacuum the house the house and preparing foods with Mom. We both slept in the living room by the kitchen and woke up through the night to baste the turkey and check the rolls. Then Thanksgiving morning, I would work with her to peel potatoes, make deviled eggs, make green bean casserole, watch the turkey, and do the endless piles of dishes. She'd handle the rolls (I'm no good with the precision it took to make her yeast rolls), the gravy, the cranberry sauce, the mashed potatoes, the turkey (Dad carved), the dressing (oyster and regular) the pies, the dishes, etc. Then around noon, family would begin to arrive. We'd have anywhere from 20-30 family members pile into our home, and feast. They'd bring more sides - Nanny brought noodles, Aunt Mary brought 7 layer salad, Aunt Norma brought sweet potatoes, Aunt Debbie brought a cheeseball or veggie platter, because she couldn't cook.

We would eat, everyone lining up, buffet style and walking through the kitchen, then finding whatever spot they could in our living and dining room. We'd talk, watch football, watch parades, play cards, play boardgames, eat some more, talk, play card games, watch A Christmas Story, laugh.... And somewhere between 4 and 8, people would load up their dishes with leftovers and head home. Mom and I would collapse and Dad and the boys would go to my other Grandma's (Dad's side) for Thanksgiving part two which included food (not as good as Mom and I's) and card games (usually for money). They'd come home late with bags of coins and talk about their winnings or losses.

Saturday, I went into Christmas mode. We would go cut down a tree - Dad always insisted on the biggest one we could find, sometimes so big they wouldn't fit in our 14 foot vaulted living room. Mom would send me to be the voice of reason, but I always got so swept up in the excitement I'd soon find myself saying "Yeah! That 16 footer is calling my name, Dad! Good eye!" We'd go home and decorate it, another task Dad took with great zeal. Mom would put on Christmas music, and we'd sing everything that came on the radio. She'd make wassal and we'd drink it while Dad decorated. Our tree would be so large, he'd have to get the ladder out of the garage and prop it up next to the tree. We often times had to use fishing wire nailed to the wall to stabilize the behemoth of a tree. Dad would put every decoration he could find on the tree - mulicolored lights, white lights, green lights, red. All the ornaments we owned, everything from the delicate silver frames with our baby pictures in them proclaiming our first Christmases, to tongue depressor and cotton ball snowmen we had made in first grade. He wound it up with garland in various shades of greens, reds, and metalics. Then gave it a coat of crinkly plastic sliver and gold icicles. It was so big, and so outrageously tacky, that you just had to love it. And you could feel the excitement in the air as one of us would climb up the ladder with Dad, and he'd hoist us out over the tree to top it with one of those creepy angel toppers that move and blink. We'd fight over who got to do it, such an honor!

Sunday I would go to my Nanny's house and help her put up her Christmas tree and Nativity set. Her tree was fake, much shorter, and much more tasteful. Her Nativity was pretty, and I always set up the scene in a different way. We'd watch "Adventures in Babysitting" and laugh, and eat cookies. She sends me Nativities every year for Christmas now. They line my shelves, window sills, tables, and countertops. I set up each and every one of them as if I were setting up the Nativities at Nanny's. Even though I stopped beliving long ago.

I cook alone now. I eat with Miguel. We decorate our modest tree, the two of us. And I ache with longing for my family. I wish I could have canned those days. Every Thanksgiving now, I would gently open a can, and lick the top, and dose out it's contents slowly, savoring every last bit of it. Just to get through.

Friday - lazy night

Saturday - groceries, errands, and visited my manager who was sitting Shiva for his mother

Sunday - cleaned house, cleaned the closet, organized things, watched football, upped my Metformin dosage.

I was worried I'd be sick again from upping my dosage. But nothing major so far.

Started my new hours - came in at 7, leave at 3:30. Can't describe how excited I am to leave mid-afternoon!

Today:
2 eggs
1/2 c oat bran, 1 T packed brown sugar
Better Whey yogurt
Mixed greens, carrots, green beans, celery, and three 1.5 oz meatballs (made with sirloin, so it's lean), and 2 T yogurt ranch (70 cals).
Tomato soup, 1 c
1 oz Sesame Sticks
pot roast with veggies or chicken and brussel sprouts
pumpkin pie

So Friday night, I was inspired. Inspired by a roll of pie dough that was sitting in my fridge and really really needed to be used. I ended up making pumpkin pie. Now I feel like I blew it, because I need to make pumpkin pie again for Thanksgiving. Oh well.

Thanksgiving:
turkey breast, brined and roasted
green bean casserole
sweet potatoes
stuffing (whole wheat bread)
collard greens
fresh cranberry sauce
cornbread
Pumpkin pie and/or sweet potatoe pie (verdict is out)

It's sad spending holidays alone. This weekend it was like a black cloud following me around. I just dread spending the holiday alone.

This medicine, besides giving me diarrhea, nausea, gas, bloating, fatigue, thirst, constant urination, and a slight headache, also gives me MOOD SWINGS.

Mood swings.

BIG BREAKING MOOD SWINGS!

Okay...

Let's see.

Work has been busy, but when is it not?

And I'm feeling better about Miguel than I was earlier this week. He's truly making an effort. Hugging, kissing, holding my hand. Texting nice things. He did the dishes this morning (I can't because they make me vom vom right now) and has done some laundry. He paid me for the parking space this morning and has worked 10 hours of overtime all ready this week. I need to lay off the poor guy, because I don't know what I'm doing half the time.

Sometimes I feel okay. Most of the time I feel empty. But sometimes - whew boy, watch out. I'll bite the head off a rattle snake I get so feisty.

We are still negotiating the whole future thing. I think that may be why he's started working a shit ton of overtime. And he took a new shift starting Monday that will give him more time for overtime. So I guess that's a good sign. Because he changed his shift, I'm changing mine. He suggested maybe taking a class in the evenings before he gets home. I'm considering it.

My study has been quite interesting.

Monday we did an MRI and I was terrified I wouldn't fit in the machine with the coils they placed above and below me. But I did. Success. Then I got settled in and dinner came. I ate and then they hooked me up with electrodes and did a bunch of memory tests, surveys, and and EEGs. Sleep study.

Woke up. No breakfast. Multiple Sleep Latency tests. Basically I did questionnaires and EEGS and tests and then I'd lay down and they turned off all the lights. I'd have twenty minutes to fall asleep and the second I fell asleep, they'd wake me up. I fell asleep every time.

Then Wednesday they hooked me up and started the 24 hour blood sampling. It suuuucked.

First, they took some blood. Then they took this huge syringe, the size of a turkey baster, which was full of glucose. They hooked it up to my IV, and began pushing it as fast as they could into my body. I had a hot flash. It started in my tiddlybits with a rush of warmth. I thought I had peed myself, and for some reason my urine was a few degrees hotter than magma. Apparently not. It began coursing through my veins and I went "WOAH! WOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOO!" It was reflexive. I'd never felt anything like that before. Excuse me for saying it, but it was like liquid sex. My eyes even fluttered and rolled around. It was insane. Then my head felt like it was going to explode and everyone thought I was going to pass out. Then they took blood every two minutes for twenty minutes. Then after that, it was every 10 minutes for 24 hours. During which I took tests and wore a blood pressure cuff that went off every half hour. They took my blood all through the night. So we finished up today at 2. At which point I got unhooked, showered, and dressed afresh.

My fat biopsy was at 3:30. My doctor came in and explained everything to me. He then explained everything to me again as he went. He first sterilized my stomach skin, then shot it up with nubming agent. Then he slit a tiny hole. At this point he gets out this huge syringe with a thicker needle (about as big as a pen refill stick). It has saline in it. He puts it in my stomach, shoots me full of saline, and then grabbed my abdomen in his hand and pulled it up like he was going to rip it off, and then began sucking out fat. He repeated this six times! The woman who was processing the samples was there waiting to run with them, and she kept saying "WOW! That's AMAZING!!!! That is PERFECT!" and we were all cracking jokes, and I spontaneously shouted "SCIENCE!" After a particularly good draw, the tech said "I'm practically salivating! I can't wait to get these to the lab and work with them!" And before she left, she said "Thank you sooooo much!" I almost said "Any time!" But then decided against it. Once the samples were gathered, they slapped on some big bandages and wrapped me up. I went back to my room and the RN started the luetine shots. I guess they suppress the hormones my ovaries produce. I can't say for sure, but I think it gave me the runs.

So, since then I ate a lot, and she comes in regularly to draw blood. I cleaned up the place, watched some TV and talked to Katie, the data manager for the study. She and I get along like a house on fire and I think we may continue to be friends after this is done.

Oh, and while the doctor was wrapping me up, I said "So doctor, when are we going to start making me better?" and he said "Well, when do you want to start?" He took a look at my files and gave me the choice: birth control or glucophage.

Birth control:

Positives:
Regulated periods
Negatives:
Nothing else, basically

Glucophage:

Positives:
Actual reglar periods. Controlled Insulin Resistance. Weight loss. Less chance of cysts. Could see fertility in as little as three months.
Negatives:
I'd be a fertile myrtle. This is only a negative because I called Miguel with the options to discuss it with him, and he was silent. Completely silent. After a long time he said "Do you need an answer now?" And I said "Oh no, we have some time. Think about it." And he was completely silent for a long time. Finally I say "You're not ready to have kids, are you?" And he said "No." Then he got off the phone. I cried.

I don't have time to wait on him. I don't have time to wait. He talks about going back to school and moving and a bunch of other things - but it's been three years and he hasn't so much as looked at what it would take to go to school. And moving hasn't "worked out". It's like he doesn't get that sometimes you have to work at things to get them to "work out". I'm just tired and frustrated and very protective of my future.

So..... there it is. They just drew the last blood of the night - tomorrow they draw until 4, at which time I get to leave. :-D

Ziggy is at the pet hotel. Poor pooch. But I watched her on the webcame and she looked to be having the time of her life.

All righty all righty!

I'm happy.

• Ziggy has now adjusted to being out of her crate alone during the day. We have found the calming effects of leaving NPR playing quietly is all we need for her to
  • Not poop
  • Not pee
  • Not chew up my new Colts hat
  • Not push the cushions off the couch.
• I found a dog friendly park where Ziggy can go run run run with dogs in the neighborhood. She comes home completely exhausted and totally happy. Now when we leave our building, she starts pulling that way like "Hurry up! Hurry up! My friends are all waiting on me!" And it's so cute I sometimes forgot to say "No pull!" and make her sit until she's calm again. Hahahah. And everyone at the park is amazed by how fast she runs. She outruns all the dogs. It's insane! And she was wrestling with our neighbor the other day, and the dog would sit on the ground, and she would run concentric circles, closing in on him until she was right next to him, and they'd hop up and wrestle again. Hilarious!
• Things are okay with Miguel. This weekend is his birthday. We are going to Texas de Brazil. I'm calling it "meat fest 09".

I'm busy.

• Work is insane. I'm working on analysis, design, and development for three different curriculums.
• My resource council work is insane. I'm one of the few functioning people on our eboard. So I'm doing everything that Communications should do, along with my job, and on top of other things that just wouldn't get done if I didn't do them. Frustration!
• Networking has hit a standstill b/c I'm too busy to meet with people. Shit, I'm taking my non-existent lunch to type this out.

I'm worried.

• We are spending almost twice what we used to spend in rent and it's hitting my budget the hardest. Miguel convinced me that if we lived downtown, we'd use parks, museums, libraries, shared spaces, and other free - low cost things more often. While it's true we have had more "nights in" with friends at our place, that's where the promise ends. Instead, parks and museums have been replaced with beer at the pub to watch the game, and the library has been replaced with tickets to some production. It just frustrates me more than anything.
• Winter is coming and I have had two Raynaud's incidents all ready.
• It's dark when I leave work, so instead of walking I take the shuttle to state street and take a bus south. It takes just as long as walking, but I don't have to walk in the dark alone. Which is nice.

Health.

• I'm wearing this Actiwatch and Actical waist thingy. It slides off my hips up my waist and drives me batty. I have to track everything I eat - which isn't bad, I usually do that, but because I have to do it on paper and legibly, it is frustrating. Last night I input the last two days of food. 2002 cals on Monday and 1770 on Tuesday. My Calorie coach goal is like 1775, but since I can't "follow any organized weight loss effort" I've been eating closer to 2000 (or so I thought) Well last night I got the shocker - I've probably been under eating. Awesome. NOT.
• My tests are next week. I'm worried, but I'm not. I'm excited, but I'm not. I'm relieved but I'm not. I'm ambivalent.
• My whole body feels drained.

My whole body hurts, I feel like my life is a treadmill set to 10 incline, and it has rained EVERY DAY this week, meaning I can't walk home and that it's been ta struggle to get Ziggy to pee outside. Miguel has worked a ton of overtime, and poor Ziggy peed in her crate yesterday because he didn't have a chance to go home and walk her before work but after his spin class. And, on top of all of that, I'm pretty much broke from traveling last week (I usually save half my rent on my mid-month paycheck and then only feel half the blow when I pay it on the first, but travelling wiped me out and now I have practically nothing to get through the next two weeks).

So... I could complain, but I won't.