Birthday Blanket from Cindy

Cindy, who makes the crocheted Ribbit-Tibbits (i.e. Bertrand's friends) and adoptable mice, crocheted her first blanket for my birthday - and then presented it to me on Justin's birthday a couple of weeks ago.

I wanted to showcase a nice photo of me using it. Instead, I'm hanging out on the couch with it in the early evening yesterday with a wiggly Tiny, while Rebekah worked overtime, and both of us (Rebekah and I) dealt with food poisoning. 

But Cindy did a great job with the lap blanket. The colors and the pattern remind me of a blanket my mother had on her bed when I was a child. I will treasure it for many years.

The recap of Bertrand's Back-To-School Birthday Bash will have to wait until Monday. 

Hospital Rewards Card?

So as I've previously written, our family has spent a very challenging couple of years, which have come with unexpected blessings and (perhaps) the opportunity to grow stronger.

Humor is one of our family's coping mechanisms - and Rebekah used that card on Thursday night as we walked into the hospital emergency department, prepared for another all-nighter, for the second time in one month, for a second and separate reason.

Rebekah said, "They should offer a punch card," and I laughed.

So at the check-in desk, I asked if they offered a rewards card for frequent customers. The woman at the desk laughed, too.

None of that changed the situation, of course. But why not momentarily lighten the mood for all?

After I was triaged, I thanked everyone for their time and help and then headed out to the waiting room to find Rebekah and our backpacks of "stuff."

As I left, I heard one of the providers say to the other, "I wish they were all like her."

They don't really (just ask my family).

But I do like the idea of a hospital rewards card.

In the day of rising health care costs, offering a free visit could result in misuse by patients.

Still - why not a free coffee while you wait after, say, ten visits?

Or hospital swag (Rebekah loves swag): T-shirts, hoodies, coolers, mugs? Or (better yet) blankets and travel pillows (yes, Rebekah brings travel pillows and blankets. But extras never hurt).

Could this idea catch on?

Thoughts?

Illustration by Matt Coundiff for "Visage"

Nightmares

I read something years ago that said children often have nightmares, but they grow out of them; adults only have them occasionally.

I was surprised to read this because I've had nightmares all my life. The night I don't have one would be the exception.

But the nightmares have been really bizarre since I came down with a respiratory virus shortly after Christmas.  And they've stepped up their vivid strangeness during my recovery period.

I know it's temporary. But - WOW!

And, no, they're too disjointed to use as fiction material.

Researchers still aren't sure why we dream and or the purpose of dreams. One theory that makes the most sense is that our brains are clearing out their "cache" while we sleep, which explains the random impressions of our lives that reassemble in very peculiar ways while we sleep.

Mostly I'm curious if anyone else reading this post regularly experiencing nightmares or has nightmares when sick. 

Thoughts?

A Simple Solution

Good morning!

A long month crammed with work, events, and not feeling well for one reason or another is ebbing (I hope) with waking up this morning feeling more discomfort than pain.

The details are for another blog post (quite a few half-started over the last couple of weeks). But last Monday's episode left me with some mild head pain that became significant head and neck pain by Thursday.

Tests from the first ER trip were normal - and so were tests from the second. Either way, I still need follow-up tests. But it's easier to think and get things done when one is not in pain.

Last Monday night was an al-nighter in the ER (and then I went to work). Last Saturday was an a---nighter in the ER - and then the pain didn't let me sleep on Sunday night.

So, three all-nighters in the last week.

During Monday night's violent storm, I found relief leaning against the wall in the basement and fell asleep.

So Rebekah suggested a heating pad. 

She brought hers downstairs for me to use while we watched a bit of "Sanditon" to distract me. The heat really felt good.

I woke up yesterday after a decent rest with much of the head pain gone and feeling very tight in my neck and shoulders. That was a very hopeful sign. 

I used the heating pad after work last night and the pain was much reduced over the evening. So I used it again before bedtime.

I expect the pain to flare up as I use my head and neck today. But I'm hopeful that the intensity will be reduced.

Who'd have thought the solution could be so simple?

New Diagnosis

I lived the most boring life ever as a child - or, at least, that was my perspective.

Anything that was interesting or unusual happened to "other people." Not us.

But somewhere along the way, our family started to "collect" a variety of health issues, many of which are unknown to others. 

Last night one of my sons said we seem to have every weird thing from A-Z.  Made me laugh.

Seriously, off the top of my head we've dealt with (or are currently dealing with) in our immediate biological family the following: pheochromocytoma, polycythemia, idiopathic thrombocythemia, Steven-Johnson syndrome, chronic urticaria, inappropriate sinus tachycardia, polycystic ovarian syndrome, Hashimoto's, POTS, hyperhidrosis - and that's before the "normal" diabetes, hypertension, rheumatoid arthritis, gall bladder surgeries, hypothyroidism, etc.

All but one of the above have appeared in either me, my children, or both. Oh, and there may be asymptomatic multiple sclerosis hanging around that will beg for attention some day. But that day is not today.

Seriously, someone should look at us under a microscope. And chastise whoever is leaving the unicorn feed at our door.

Because now now we can add another to our virtual shelf of oddities: hidradenitis suppurativa, an insidious inflammation and infection of sweat glands that can be unpredictably progressive with no therapies that consistently work. Oh, and it comes with a higher risk of half a dozen cancers, its way of bringing a housewarming gift, I suppose.

Now we can't go as far as to welcome HS into our midst. In fact, it's going to find we'll do its best to make it feel as unwelcome as possible.

But it will certainly feel right at home among its new friends.

The diagnosis came as no surprise.

But I'm thankful for lots of reasons.

One, the latest flare looks healed with no scarring.

Two, I have a clear treatment plan until the the HS outsmarts it, which may never happen.

Three, I have terrific providers.

Four, the news came on Holy Wednesday in the Orthodox church, which is dedicated to healing. 

Coincidence? God's timing? You decide.

And have a beautiful and blessed day!

ER Trip

So I had a little adventure last week that will keep on giving for a while.

On Wednesday night after getting out for just a forty-five minute walk on a hot and humid night, Rebekah and I packed two plastic bins of books for Ed and Nancy Calkins to take to Willow Fest for this weekend.

I felt a little "off," drank a little more water, finished packing, and got into the shower a little late (for me) - about nine o'clock.

I bent over at one point, and I straighted, a rainbow sprayed from my left and arched over my vision.

Now this was different from a migraine aura.

This was different from the "stars" one sees if position is changed too fast.

From then on, it was flashing lights, which seemed more pronounced from my right eye.

I knew this wasn't good: stroke, retinal detachment, or (maybe, if I was lucky), dehydration.

The bathroom is white and bright, so the flashing was obvious.

But it all but disappeared when I went into other rooms in the house.

So I had a snack and watched thirty minutes of Master's Sun with Rebekah. Flashing lights: still gone. Good. I was half asleep already. Time to brush my teeth and go to bed.

But in the white bathroom with the bright, white lights, those flashing lights were clearly there.

I had no other symptoms of stroke. I was pretty sure it was the retina. But a retinal dettachment is an emergency, too, unless one wants to go blind. 

I wasn't that person.

My question to the universe: Why don't these things happen at more "normal" time, like one o'clock in the afternoon? Why is it always at bedtime.

Anyway, by the time Timothy and I left for the hospital, the flashing lights were now just oozing strands of black silly string in my right eye. Retina. I was positive.

I have really bad astigmatism, and I'm very near-sighted. I always knew in the back of my head (pun) that retinal detachment was a real possibility one day. And now, here it was?

At the ER, I was triaged and CT-scanned immediately. And then we waited in the waiting room for a few hours. So, again, I was pretty sure this wasn't a stroke. The silly string had turned to a shower of black floaters and one large gray spiderweb with thick, dark black borders.

I tried to read The Whistling Boy and was too tired. I set the book down, dozed off, and woke up realizing I'd slept an entire hour.

At three o'clock (or so) we were put into a room, where I was told "no drinking" in case more tests were needed. So it was a stroke, maybe?

Nope. No stroke. The ER doctor was firm about that.

But I did need a follow-up MRI to check something on the brain - that was also definitely not a tumor.

I had an ultrasound of the eye: no detachment. But I was still advised to follow up with my opthalmologist. I didn't need prompting. The office opened at eight-thirty, and I would be ready to dial (OK, dial - on a cell phone?).

We got home before dawn. I took a couple-hour nap, made one work call, and then called the eye doctor. He most definitely wanted to see me; could I make one-thirty that afternoon? You bet!

The upshot?

No retinal detachment.

No retinal tear, even.

But the retina did pull away slightly, which caused the flashing lights.

The black stuff I saw was actually blood.

"You dodged a bullet," he told me.

I must say, the visual stuff was pretty dramatic for not even a tear. But I did make all the right calls.

So for three weeks, I'm to lift nothing heavier than a gallon of milk.

Live life, he said, but use common sense.

Now is not the time to take up a new aerobics routine.

Lift no weights heavier than five pounds.

No sudden head jerks.

It's safe to fly (story attached to this).

Call IMMEDIATELY if I have any other changes in vision.

Otherwise, come back in three weeks.

He suggested that the questionable area on my brain could be from the high blood pressures of the pheochromocytoma twenty years ago.

But only an MRI will tell for sure.

Not sure how long it will take for the black dots and spiderwebs to fade from my vision. 

But don't get me wrong. I am thankful for the vision.

Please Have Faith in Faith

One October day in 2005, while I was upstairs in my attic office in my Channahon home interviewing someone by phone, Rebekah burst through the swinging door to tell me Daniel was feeding tuna to a stray cat.

The cat turned out to be a nine-month-old kitten. We asked around town and put up fliers, but we never did find the owner. So we named her Frances. We spayed someone's cat. And Frances is still with us.

Two years later, my oldest son Christopher found an abandoned litter of kittens, so he brought them home. He found homes for them all, except for a tiny black one who was skittish and unfriendly. Would we take her?

Even as I objected, I named her Midnight. We picked her up. She was not unfriendly, just scared and sick. She was FULL of tapeworms (think fettucine in size full) and ear mites. We nursed Midnight back to health. The vet would not spay her until her fecal samples showed no tapeworms. 

At nine months, Midnight ran out of the house and got pregnant under our deck. She had three kittens. My husband Ron named them Faith, Hope, and Charity. Midnight tested negative for tapeworms, and we did a mass spay and neuter of four cats. We still have Midnight

Charity (the only male in the group), a penguin used up all nine of his lives in 2013. His escapades could fill another blog.

Hope, our athletic tortie, is living the life (seriously, she is so spoiled) with friends in Morris. Again, another long story.

Faith, our prissy, afraid of her own shadow cat, is also a very loving cat. She loves to be be petteed (I trained her to love it. She used to hate being touched) and loves to pose for the camera.

All our cats are very healthy, and we do nothing special for them except feed them their favorite food off the grocery store shelves, give them fresh water one or more times a day, take them to their annual vet appointments/vaccine, etc. 

We give them their space when they want their space. And we love on them when they want that, too. 

Only Frances takes medicine and it's not really medicine. She takes glucosamine for joint support, and it's made a huge difference for her. She jumps onto "things" like a kitten.

Our vet marvels at the health of these senior cats. The sheen of their coats. Their bright eyes. Their energy and agility.

All that changed three weeks ago.

Rebekah and I were sick (not COVID, but we got tested to be sure) for a week. During that week. I felt Faith was losing weight. But it was just a vague feeling when I was petting her. I couldn't be sure. So Rebekah made a vet appointment for the following week. Faith was due for shots anyway.

On that Monday, two weeks ago, the day before Faith's appointment, she was suddenly VERY sick. The vet saw her, ran bloodwork, gave her an anti-nausea shot, an appetite stimulent, and fluids. Faith had also lost two pounds from the previous year.

Bloodwork was normal on Tuesday. Faith went for an X-ray on Wednesday. She was worse - and had dropped another half pound.

X-ray had an area of concern, so the vet did an ultrasound. From there, Faith went to the hospital.

Details of her treatment are on the GoFundMe page Daniel began.

While Faith was in the hospital, the vet called several times a day because Faith's situation kept changing. I always brought up the question of what was in Faith's best interest. 

But once we could visit Faith (no lie), her situation dramatically improved. She was discharged twenty-four hours earlier than anticipated.

She is continuing to improve (the photo below is from Friday), but she is not out of the proverbial woods yet.

The vet has faith in Faith's recovery.

So we have faith in Faith's recovery.

Can you have faith in Faith's recovery, too?

Any help (thoughts, prayers, donations) are very, very appreciated.

https://gofund.me/3440aeb1

Perfect Timing

One common theme I often hear when I write my "An Extraordinary Life" features for The Herald-News is that the subject of the story "never complained" when fighting cancer or other devastating illnesses.

No one willl ever say that about me.

Nothing kicks up anxiety for me and for some of my children like illness. Maybe that's because we've been blessed/cursed with some of the most unusual maladies out there: pheochromocytoma, Steven Johnson Syndrome, refractory diseases.

For those of us who complain (I'm raising my hand over here), the complaining is not whining. The complaining serves as a reality check as to what is and is not typical and whether or not someone should act, whether the guard should go up or down.

Too much of the time, getting sick for us is not a simple thing. Too much of the time, going to the doctor is fraught with stress because the only reason we are seeking medical help is because we either couldn't figure out the issue or the issue is too great for us to fix on our own. Too much of the time, the doctor can't get it right on the first try, either.

Two weekends ago I worked. It was a quiet weekend and accomplished a lot. So I was really looking forward to tackling some fiction this weekend.

But on Friday, both Rebekah and I came down with some sort of viral bug.

So on Saturday, we did the responsible thing: we broke open our first home COVID test. Both test results were negative.

On Sunday, we did the next responsible thing: we went for PCR testing. We got the results back yesterday, actually immediately after I told my supervisor I was sick. Both results were negative.

This morning, we are starting to feel better. And the timing was perfect, really.

Daniel has wanted to carve some time out to watch The Haunting of Hill House. Well, since I didn't feel up to anything else, we blew through it this weekend. We're also halfway through The Haunting of Bly Manor. See what happens when you don't have the energy to work out or clean house?

On Sunday, I was starting to feel better and wound up finishing the last two chapters of Call of the Siren after all. Hurray! I'm on the right side of getting well.

But Sunday night, the virus showed its teeth and kept me up half the night.

On Sunday night, I fretted about a big project at work - which I finished on Monday.

On Sunday night, I fretted about some "life" things coming up that this virus might take out only to wake up at 4 a.m. and realize the virus was barely whimpering.

This morning, I'm feeling more assured that some bugs are simply some bugs, and we do get over most of them. The timing of this one was perfect, really, with COVID cases at an all-time low.

I'm a planner, and it's good to plan. I'd never get much accomplished without planning.

I also like protecting my health. I spent the first two decades of my life not feeling well most of the time. And my efforts at wellness have served me well for most of my adult life.

But when plans go sideways, it opens the door for other opportunities.

When the timing is perfect.

Illustration by Sue Midlock for "Cornell Dyer and the Flu"

For Those With Anxiety

Breathe.

Not as in hyperventilation.

But as if you're floating on a wave under sunny sky on a warm day.

Unless, of course, water makes you anxious. If so, feel free to substitute the imagery with one more to your liking.

As a family, we are an anxious group, and we do have some back stories that led to it.

But I've discovered anxiety is quite common, and many people I know suffer from it.

You doubt that? Post a Bible verse or meme about anxiety and see how many "likes" you get. And I've received those "likes" from people I wouldn't have dreamed have an anxious bone in their bodies.

Certainly this past year has given many cause for anxiety.

Pandemic craziness aside, why do people experience so much anxiety? Why is it so prevalent?

Rebekah has a theory that anxious people are more "aware" than people who are not. This awareness makes us less able to live our lives in denial. We know what could happen - and so we fear.

But that is part of anxiety's like. Just because it could happen doesn't mean it will. And even if it does, it probably won't happen the way our overactive imagination paints it.

This morning, some of us are anxious about Midnight. Seemingly out of nowhere, she developed a soft mass on her back, which prompted an early physical.

"Most likely a cyst," the vet said after he examined it. "But let's keep an eye on it."

Then last Saturday, right after our Calkins Day celebration, Midnight's temperature shot up. Except for curing her tapeworms and ear mites when she came to us as a sixteen-week-old kitten (she was found abandoned with her siblings), she's never been sick.

I do mean "never." No fevers, not antibiotics, no infections.

But the animal hospital did a fine needle biopsy on the cyst. And some of it came back suspicious but inconclusive.

So fourteen-year-old Midnight is having the mass removed today for a proper biopsy. And that's one reason why a few of us are anxious this morning.

But just one reason. We can list off half a dozen more on any given day. Seriously. Just ask us.

Being anxious won't help Midnight. And it certainly won't make us feel better or change any outcomes.

It's good to be aware, of course. Being aware helps us make better decisions, I think - at least up to a point.

Yet anxiety can cause level-headedness to fly out the window, too. It can throw chaos into sound thinking and the decisions we made with a calmer mind.

One terrible part of anxiety is that it makes people feel alone in their fears. And that's why I'm writing this post today.

Because "feeling alone" is also part of anxiety's lie. The Anxiety Club is actually quite large. And somedays, our family feels like we hold all the officer, alumni, and emeritus positions.

None of this will make you feel less anxious today if anxiety is already ruling your Monday.

But, hopefully, you are smiling a little and feeling slightly less alone.

Breathe.

Coming Along, Getting There (And Two More Benefits of Being Sick)

Temperature is coming down, and my supervisor is kindly letting me work from home again, a real blessing on so many levels.

Last light while trying to fall asleep, I thought of another blessing to being sick: not having to set the wake-up alarm.

Today I thought of another: Enjoying a slower pace. I've stripped my days this week to the roots: my job, basic housework, and taking it easy.

The rest I'll layer back on as my energy returns. Enjoy the day! :)

Two Benefits of Being Sick

I'm talking about sick with a fever, something I haven't had in years, but Daniel was sick, and so was Faith, so...

Benefit number one: I slept away Saturday afternoon. After I wrote a story for Monday, of course. I can't think of the last time I did that.

Benefit number two: Lying in bed and reading away a late Sunday afternoon. I can't think of the last time I did that, either.  Yed, I read, and I read quite a bit, but in such a leisurely way, probably not since childhood.

Now granted that was after getting some work done and covering an event (at an ice rink, no less, brrr...), but it felt heavenly to lie back and finally read one of those books I'd had for years and would get to "someday."

And Faith has cuddled into me most of the time, sweet and loyal kitty.

Today, I'm feeling a little better, but still running a fever, so I'm working from home. I'm keeping the pace slow and playing the odds tomorrow I'll feel better still.

At least I spared myself a couple mile walk to work in the rain!

Happy Monday. :)

Sick: Taking a Social Media Break Today

Daniel, who's been sick most of the week, is still running a temperature, although it's now low-grade.

Faith, one of our cats who is also sick, is improving.

After I write a story for Monday's Herald-News that was due yesterday, I'm taking the rest of the day off.

I debated still working the spaghetti dinner, but I can't be around food, have no voice to run raffle, and don't want to get the customers sick, as most of them are elderly. It's very disappointing because it's the only event our church, which is made up of a handful of seniors, hosts, and we don't have enough people to work it.

Plus, Rebekah made one hundred long loaves of bread for the garlic bread and baked six large desserts. She, along with Timothy and Daniel, are key players this year. As a mom who's watched them grow up in this church, I really wanted to see them in action.

Well, Daniel is now staying home, too.

Hopefully, I'll be good to go tomorrow, as I have an event to cover in the afternoon.

It's a beautiful Saturday, writers, vampire fans, and everyone else. Enjoy!

Stupid Virus

Horrible cold? Mild flu?

Sick since Wednesday night and working from home since then. No fever, but sooooooooo tired. Slept ten hours last night and will probably take a nap today.

And that's it. Saving the rest of my energy for the "real" writing.

Happy (zzzzzzzzzzzz) Monday, vampire fans...

Sick Day

Friday I left work early (early for me).

I hadn't felt well the last couple of days, but didn't actually realize I was sick. Sometimes, I get too busy to pay close attention. Everything seemed hard, and I kept making mistakes. I had a very full Saturday, and I figured a couple of hours in front of Before the Blood before bedtime was just the boost I needed.

However, the most I accomplished was rereading through previously written material as my mind wouldn't stay focused. I tried working out and stopped one exercise shy (no energy). So I showered and settled down to watch two episodes of BoJack Horseman with Daniel. I fell asleep. As I trudged up to bed, I had this realization in my foggy brain: maybe I'm sick.

By morning, it was obvious. I was sick.

So I caneled all my obligations for the day, rested, and fiddled with the novel. I felt somewhat better yesterday and spent a few moments rereading through Saturday's additions. I actually accomplished more than I had thought, so that part felt good. This morning, I'm tired and getting up was difficult, but I'm on the mend.

It's been weeks since I spent a dedicated day in my imagination. I guess even getting sick has its benefits.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28