Don'cha Hate it When...

You get an idea in your head, run to the store to get what you need, and then when you get home realize you don't really have everything you need?!

This would probably happen a lot less if I would stick to one idea at a time, but one idea usually gives birth to another, and then another. I tell you ideas are like rabbits. You start with 1 or 2 and end up with enough to feed an army.

Like today. I went shopping with 2 ideas in mind. 1. I want to refinish the old, wooden accordion style sewing box I scored at Goodwill yesterday for only 4 bucks, and 2. I wanted to try to find a way to hide the border that is in my dining room. Not that the border isn't fabulous...or at least I'm sure it was when it was new...in the 80's!!

But I ended up looking for more ideas: 1. Paint for the sewing box. 2. "Something" for the border. 3.End tables for my living room. 4. Something to contain the keys, notes, and pocket debris that is growing on my bookshelf like mold. and 5. My continuing search for something to use as a game table in my living room.

I ended up with 1. Paint for the sewing box. 2. A big, fat nothing on the border. 3.Nothing I was willing to spend the money on for end tables. 4. More ideas for what to do with the moldy debris on my bookshelf. (Which reminds me, I want to repaint that too.) 5. 3 possibilities for the game table, so, of course, that meant nothing on the game table.

So after 2 hours of shopping and 5 different ideas boiling in my brain, I have a can of Kilz and some spray paint for the sewing box. I'm very happy that I can get started on one of my projects.

We get home, Michael starts the grill for dinner, and I......pull 2 silvery metal "art" pieces off of my wall and prime them. Not the sewing box, but things that were already on my wall. Then after dinner I go to paint them with acrylic paint. I'm not sure exactly what color I want to go with, but I choose one and start to paint discover I. HAVE. NO. PAINTBRUSHES! Not even one. Now I have to wait until tomorrow after Brendan's PT appointment to paint.

In the infamous words of Stephanie Tanner, "HOW RUUUUDE". (Said with major ATTITUDE!)

Now, I will just have to study.

Fibro Friday: Week 2 Still slow, but picking up speed

It's not my plan to only do the fibro posts, but another week has passed me by, and it is Friday again.

This week I wasn't as good about doing the back exercises. I believe I only did them once this week... Insert self flagellation with a wet noodle... I did notice on that one day that the "my body is trying to disconnect at my lower spine" feeling was not as bad. It still hurt, but I did notice an improvement.

I was actually better at bike riding...Insert self adulation with pats on the back...I actually rode the bike 3 times this week, and progressively increased the distance. I only had mild muscle pain, but my hips hurt quite a bit afterwards. They hurt to the point that I was having trouble sleeping. I happened to have a follow up with the spine doctor today, so I mentioned it to him. He thinks it might be pelvic girdle displacement, so I need to look up exercises to help with that now.

The bad news is I decided to start a flare today. It's loads of fun. You should give it a try. I seem to have a pattern that coincides with my menstrual cycle...ps. enter dripping sarcasm after the word fun...

My shins are burning, my knees hurt, the joint in my right thumb hurts when I use it,my upper back is sore, my feet are more sensitive and my head is killing me. I also learned I had a slight fever of 99.1 when I went to the doctor. I think I will have to start taking my temperature to see if there is a correlation. Especially since when I went to the doctor, I felt fine. It was about 4-5 hours later that I started to feel bad.

My hope is that when I look back on this in the next few months that the level of symptoms will be lessened, and the number of symptoms will also be lower.

Fibro Friday: Week 1--Starting out Sloooooow

Week one of trying to pull myself out of this funk that is Fibromyalgia. I don't know how much of this will be a head game, or how much of this will be physical, but whatever it is the journey has officially started.

This week is working on starting a routine, and starting it slowly. Very slowly. I don't want to be beat before I start which is often the case.

So here is how it went for my first partial week(next week will be a full week, but since I started on Sunday...:

3 times this week I did 3 sets of 5 different back exercises given to me by my spine specialist. The purpose of these exercises is to strengthen my lower back and abs, as well as, to help with my herniated disc.

Twice this week I rode my bike. My bike that now has a huuuuuge wide load seat on it. A seat that does not hurt my sit bones for weeks after a ride. Really weeks, I'm not kidding. It's like someone decided to see how deep of a bruise they could cause and called it a bike seat. Does the seat look all sleek and cool like the torture seat, no, but with the unsleek and uncool seat maybe I can look sleek and cool, and I think that is a fair trade off.

The bike riding and the back exercises did have some painful repercussions, but nothing I couldn't handle. The worst was the leg and hip pain at night when I was trying to sleep. I felt like there was a distinct horizontal line right at my hips. Above the line was fine, below the line could have fallen off of my body and I would have appreciated the reprieve.

To sum it up:

3 days 3 sets of 5 back exercises* resulting in sharp back pain, but not so intense that I could not function. 4 of 10.

2 days moderate pace 1/2 mile bike ride. No immediate pain, but 6 of 10 later that night that caused inability to sleep.

3 pounds lost.

*Found in "Ishmael's Care of the Back", 4th edition by Brian Krabak, MD, MBA and Brandee Waite, MD.

Fibromyalgia: The Bane of My Existence

About 2 years ago I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. Also, about 2 years ago I began to perfect my practice of denial.

Even though I suspected I had it for a long time before my diagnosis, seeing as how I have almost every symptom known to man; even though my doctor diagnosed me without me ever bringing it up; even though I have not known a pain free day since sometime in 2003; even though I have shared with my friends and family that I have Fibro; In the back of my head I'm not convinced. I can still function-kinda. My brain still works like it did-or maybe not. I can recover from a day that is slightly physically challenging-in 2 to 3 weeks. I use my denial to beat myself up and convince myself I am lazy. That does wonders for another of my symptoms: depression.

So, I am going to stop beating myself up! I am going to conquer this--somehow. I know my best best is diet and exercise; however, if you try to find a plan online for an exercise program to combat Fibro all you really find are sites that say it depends on the person, depends on your good days, your bad days; your good time of days, your bad time of days; the type and severity of your symptoms. This is all true, but not very concrete, and while I'm sure it's out there somewhere, I haven't found so much as a sample workout schedule. What I have read is to start slow and with low weights and to include stretching exercises. All good advice, and I have certainly found it to be true in the past.

My goal now is to take this advice and expand on it. I am going to come up with a plan to get fit and feel better. I may not be able to cure this, but I can help myself.

I am officially introducing Fibro Friday. Some time on Friday I will sum up my week to include my actual workouts and what works and doesn't work for me. What works for me may not work for others, and vice versa, but maybe it will help someone make their own plan.

For now, all I know is that I probably won't include pilates. Although I really enjoy it I always end up with throwing my back out after a bit. I believe this has to do with my scoliosis, not my fibro, so pilates would probably be great for someone else. Then again, I may include pilates, one move at a time for a while, and see if I can isolate what exactly is my problem area--cuz like I said I love how it makes me feel, and like I didn't say, but you may have figured out--I'm just stubborn like that!

Little Things Can Make Me So Happy

Tonight I came home from Wal*Mart very excited to call my mother and tell her what I'd found! So excited that I called and *then* realized she would be in bed. Oops! Sorry mom!

But, guess what I found!!! COUNTRY HAM AND RED EYE GRAVY GRITS from Quaker!! My favorite!!! You just have to understand! These are apparently regional, and I have not been able to buy them in a store near home in my entire adult life! I have had to take them home in a suitcase after visiting my mom, my mom's mailed them to me, but not anymore! Now I can take my happy little self to Wal*Mart and buy them all.by.myself.

I feel so grown up. All able to buy my own breakfast food and all. :)

First day of His Last Year of School = Nightmare

DS is a senior this year, and we just moved to Louisiana, so he is in a brand new school.

He has to wear uniforms for the first time ever, and he is not happy about that He is truly and independent spirit, but he seems ok with it now that he's been in school a day.

This morning he gets up, and he is in a panic. Full blown anxiety attack. He doesn't know exactly where the bus stop is - just that it is on the corner. He doesn't know where exactly to get his schedule. He doesn't know where the bus to the technical school will be. Nothing too major, but all together it was just too much.

After getting him calmed down I took him to school. He was ok by the time we got there. Not great, but not panicked.

I go home, and eat breakfast. I'm about to head out to the doctor when I get a call. First, there is more than one "wall" where the schedules are. He finds his, and then goes to ask a teacher where the bus is for the tech school for his Sports Medicine class. She shows him. He gets on the bus and verifies that it is the bus for "Name of City" Technical School. "Yes, this is it."

Yeah, not so much! He said he knew he was in the wrong place when on the ride there the students start talking about how many Yeagerbombs (sp?) they had last night, and how Scotch is good to drink. It doesn't burn your throat after the first few sips. Then the kids are telling him backpacks are not allowed...HUH? We asked about that, and they are... so???? Then someone tells him he is wearing the wrong color shirt, but "we will let you live for one day." (jokingly, I hope)

Then he arrives at the school and the bus driver starts telling all of the students to not hang around and talk after school at 2:00 because they will miss their ride home. 2:00?? He supposed to be back at his home school at lunch time. He doesn't even try to go to class, and heads straight to the office. They sent him to the alternative school. For troublemakers. My child who has never even so much as had detention or a phone call home for that matter.

He calls me, and the counselor gives me directions on how to get there. (We're totally new here, remember). I get there after spending half of the ride going "This can't possibly be right. This is a rough looking neighborhood. I must be in the wrong place". Nope right place.

I get there, find him and call his counselor at his school to let her know what is going on. She felt soooo bad, and she gave me directions to where he is supposed to be, and called the other school to let them know what is going on. He's supposed to be testing this morning since we weren't here last year. We get there. They are expecting him. All's good...for now.

I now go to the doctor. Got lost...twice. Gas light comes on while lost. Get stuck at a train crossing. I make it there and home. Whew.

DS goes back to his school at lunch time. Misses lunch and half of his first class because you only get your first class at "the wall". He is pinged back and forth between the counselors office, the library and the vice principals office.

One of the classes he has to take is all Freshman because it is a class they do in their Senior year in Virginia. One of the kids starts picking on him...He stands up to get his book, another kid tells the first kid to shut up before he (DS) beats the C*** out of him. DS is very broad shouldered and built more like full grown man than a high school student. First kid shuts up, and doesn't pick on him anymore.

The good news is he likes all of his teachers, his counselor is wonderful, and things have to go UP from here...right?

This was like the nightmare first day for him. I feel so bad. We went to pick up the last few school supplies, and he kept asking for things, and finally I said, "Are you taking advantage of the fact that I feel so bad for you?" "No mom, really." Riiiiiight.

Just Call Him the Duck Whisperer

 
Or if you prefer: The Duck Piper. It doesn't matter. What does matter is those ducks loved Michael. It all started when the momma duck started bringing her 24, yes 24!, ducklings to our house every afternoon to feed on the bird seed the birds had knocked out of the feeders through out the day.

She would come and let the babies eat and then they would play and sit in the water from the sprinkler for a while, and Momma would sit along the periphery with her keen eyes watching everything that was going on. After we set up the trampoline she would sit in the shade with the water dripping down from the canvas above.

It didn't take long for Michael to decide that if the ducks were going to come they were not just going to be eating leftovers. It took even less time for him to discover their favorite was the dried corn. So, he would buy large bags of corn and fill a coffee cup and distribute it to the ducklings. Always making sure that everyone was able to eat their fill. Michael was always careful to be sure that the dominate ducklings were not able to keep the others from eating.

Soon, the ducks were coming twice a day. At the same times. EVERY day. Funny thing is, I never knew ducks could tell time. But let me tell you... they can. We know this because before much time had passed the ducks decided they were not content to wait in the back yard, and they would actually swarm him when he came home. They would meet him at his truck each afternoon and talk to him as he stepped down from the seat. I don't even know where they come from, but Michael's truck would pull up...and there they were--like magic.

They say animals can detect a kind person, a person with a heart for animals. If I didn't believe before, I do now. The momma duck trusted Michael. How do we know? She showed it. After a few days of them coming, before Michael started feeding them, she would allow us to sit outside and watch her babies just feet away from where they were feeding. If one of us stood up, though, she would always place herself between us and the babies, quietly, calmly, as if to say "I don't want to startle them, but don't get too close." A few days after that, Michael was aloud to be smack dab in the middle of them all, and Momma would watch from her comfortable perch in the cool, damp grass, but if Brendan or I stood up, she was would be between us and her little ones. She did trust us, but not like she trusted Michael. Now, if Brendan and I were at our house, and other people were coming to close from the park that was across from our yard, Brendan and I were apparently the least threatening because she would put her focus on them. She had a trust heirarchy, and it went like this: Michael, me and Brendan, and waaaay down the list, everyone else.

Smart duck.