Stress-Free Family Holiday Month

Stress-Free Family Holiday Month

Every year my grandma wants a Christmas list from each of her grandchildren. If we don't provide one for her we are considered "bad grandchildren" because we will be causing her stress and frustration during what could have been an easy list-oriented shopping trip.

Last year I was the golden grandchild for a happy week because I was the first to provide a complete list, of mostly books, which meant that she would only have to go to one store, and she could get discount points from that store. But, then, there were problems. My books were not regular-on-the-shelf-books, so I quickly became the not-golden grandchild.

This year, I have had a really hard time coming up with a list for her. I thought it might be easy, because I do have an Amazon wish list, but Grandma doesn't do Amazon. This is where a great deal of the problems came from last year; I wanted books that I found on Amazon, that aren't regular bookstore shelf books. My parents aren't Amazon people either, and therefore, weren't much help for Grandma, so I have just realized that I have no reason to keep an Amazon wish list, except for me to have a list of random things for me to remember to maybe buy for myself someday.

Anyway, this year I felt guilty for even providing a list, even though Grandma asked for one, because this year she is helping me with my Multiple Sclerosis treatment costs. That is such significant help that I really don't feel that I deserve an additional Christmas present on top of that. But, since she said she still wants a list, I sat and thought about what I want for Christmas.

Well, my ideal Christmas list would include: the ability to have no more side effects to the Rebif. Specifically, no more morning sickness-type-smell-stomach-issues. No more nausea at the smell of celery, broccoli, cabbage, lettuce, avocados, and spinach. No more dark circles under my eyes, and no more people asking me if I had a bad night, every day. No more dead in my tracks fatigue. No more achy in my every joint. No more forgetfulness. No more uncontrollable crying when children sing Christmas carols. No more hiding in my apartment because I can't eat anything normal and because I need at least ten to twelve hours of sleep almost every night and did I mention that I still have dark circles under my eyes and I would like those to go away before Christmas? Yeah. That would just about cover everything that I really want for Christmas. (Except for maybe a phone call from Edgy ne^' Christian. That would be nice too.)

Unfortunately, Grandma can't do anything about any of that. Yes, so the last three days I have been trying to come up with things to put on a list for Grandma. And tonight, I did give her a spotty list. But, I feel stressed about that list. None of the books are books that I am dying to read. All of the kitchen things are things that I could live without. I feel like a spoiled selfish little brat, especially since this post is about family stress, and really if this is the only family stress that I have to deal with, I recognize that I'm pretty damn lucky.

We can chat about my mother later.

Football's First Forward Pass, aka I Can Move Forward Day November 1st

On November 1st in 1913 Notre Dame introduced the first forward pass in a game against Army at West Point. Notre Dame scored 35 points to Army's 13. In honor of this ground breaking game, I am naming November 1st I Can Move Forward Day.

The reasons for I Can Move Forward Day are personal. Basically, I have had a very emotionally difficult six weeks. Normally, my gut reaction to this type of personal stress is to want to crawl under the covers and hide until someone makes me come out. Fortunately, I seem to have grown up a bit because I can't do that this time, because hiding is isn't productive nor is it healthy.

I had spent the last three days writing out the details of what had happened over the last six weeks, but I have decided not to post what I wrote for a few reasons. First, it doesn't really fit the scope of my blog; second, it felt whiney, even though there were a few cleverly phrased parts; and third, I'm shy, and I don't feel like sharing all of it. But, I am going to share some of it, and hopefully it won't feel like the whiney parts.

Anyway, the core of my stress is that I found out that my Multiple Sclerosis has progressed. I have progressed from Relapsing-Remitting Multiple Sclerosis to Secondary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis. Because of this progression, I am going to have to increase the dosage of one of my medications, (Interferon Beta 1-A going from brand name Avonex 30 mcg once a week to Rebif 44 mcg three times a week). This increase could effect my ability to work full time, which would effect my insurance, which would effect my ability to get treatment... and so on, and so on.

I haven't really noticed an increase in my disability, but the MRI that I had in August showed that I have 26 lesions on my brain. Last year I had 12. The year before that I had 7, and the year before that I had 5. Basically, the lesions are places where the brain doesn't work any more because my immune system has attacked my nervous system and the cells that have been attacked form scar tissue through a process called demyelination.

So, my brain has so many holes it's like Swiss cheese. (Which means it's normal that I loose my keys every other day and lock myself out of my apartment at midnight on a Sunday night, and when people notice that I am being a bit of an airhead I can just say, "It's okay, I have 26 holes in my brain!") But, the way that my doctor gave me this information was not good. (Let's just say, doctors should read their patient files before they go into the exam room so they don't say things like, "Well, at least you've already have had your children, so you don't have to worry about pregnancy on these medications" and "Maybe we should save the rest of this conversation until your husband can be here.") Then, the same week that I got all this news, my brother was in a major car accident. So, that week wasn't a good week.

But that was in September, and I have had all of October to get used to the idea of new treatment, and today, the first day of November, is a good day for a fresh start. I had my follow-up appointment with my doctor. The doctor had me schedule a follow-up because the one in September was so emotional he wanted to give me time to come to terms with all the new information. Today's appointment was mostly setting up all the technical stuff for my new treatment. I have to have a home health nurse come in to show me how to do everything the right way. I had to get all the right insurance preauthorizations. I have to sign over the title of my car and my non-existent first-born for every monthly co-pay... but, I actually feel okay about this new first step. The positive thing is, even though my MRI looks really bad-- bad enough for the doctors to be really, really concerned, I am functioning fairly well, and I feel pretty good, most days. In fact, I think that most of my not feeling good is due to side effects of my medications that are supposed to be stopping the progression of the Multiple Sclerosis. Which is why I have had such a difficult time deciding to increase the dosage of those medications.

After today's appointment, I feel really positive about moving forward (and it doesn't hurt that the needle is significantly smaller for the Rebif) not dwelling on all of this negative stuff I have had in my head these last six weeks. I haven't ever seen a football game without at least one forward pass (at least I can't remember a significant one). Even with a strong running game, the best offense needs to mix things up with a few passes, and everyone loves to see a completed long-reach-for-it-and-run-for-the-end-zone pass. Perhaps, this new medication will be one of those passes where I can hear the footsteps of the defense right on me, and the end zone is just right there when the ball just comes over my shoulder into my hands... you know, just perfect.

Just Because Day, August 27th

Just Because Day

Just because it takes at least a week and a half to normalize from a week and a half of vacation.

When I got home from airport via the Blog Party on Saturday night a week ago, I discovered that The Ants had moved into my apartment while I was gone. The Ants where everywhere. I was not happy with this, and bought poison for them. Now, nine days later, The Ants have mostly moved out. It took them as long to move out as the had to move in. Just because, The Ants are not entirely gone, I still don't feel like it is my apartment yet.

Just because I am a very clumsy person, both by nature, and by disease.

Saturday, while I was getting ready for a birthday party where I was to dress up as a nerd from the eighties (not much of a boost for my ego by the way) I stepped on a piece of broken glass in my kitchen. And when I stepped on the glass I jumped very clumsily backwards and twisted my shoulder in a way that it probably I could not replicate, but it probably looked a bit like a move that we all have seen Shaggy do when running away from ghosts. Anyway, the glass was deep in my foot, and when I tried to get it out, a piece of it broke off deep in the blood goo of my foot. So, I went to the emergency clinic, because I wasn't making the mess any cleaner. They got all the glass out and told me to ice my shoulder for the next few days and stay off my foot as much as possible. And, so I missed the 80's party, just because I wasn't in the mood any more.

And just because when I worry about things I can't control, I tend to lose control of things I should control.

Sunday night I had a good conversation with Edgy about things that kept me concerned and concentrated. But, while I was talking with my brain focued on him, my body was cleaning my kitchen, loading dishes in the dishwasher, getting the garbage ready to take out. And after the conversation had ended, I distinctly remember thinking about which pocket to stick my keys in so I could go check my mail, I had to worry about pocket because I also had to carry my cell phones, since I am on call for work this week. I needed to check my mail, which now hasn't been checked in two and a half weeks, because I haven't had any garbage to take out, because I have been limiting the food in my house just because of The Ants. I am sure my mailperson hates me. Just because the mailboxes are so far away from my actual apartment and from where I park; it's just not convenient to check the mail unless I am taking out the garbage.

So, anyway, after the garbage was dumped in the Dumpster, (see I can be cool and capitalize Dumpster just like it is all through Eclipse) I walk over to the mailbox and wait... no keys. Um. Problem! I hobbled good-foot-over-bad-foot back to my apartment and yes, I did lock the door. Why? Just because.

But, all is well just because I have Good Friend who said she didn't mind phone calls in the middle of the night, and who drove my extra key down to my apartment to let me in. And she brought freezer apricot jam for me and and for me to bring to Edgy. Why did she bring me and Edgy apricot jam? Just because.

And all is doubly well because I have Edgy, who text messaged me during the lockout to keep me company, just because he is cool like that.

So, through all the not-so-good just becauses, it's pretty good that I have some good friends- just because.