Happy Very Special Day to Me (and James, maybe?)

 

When you have been married three times, it seems like a lot of people think you don't take marriage seriously.

I do, and what I've learned over the last decade and a half is that being a partner who's trying to make a relationship works doesn't go far enough if the other person in the equation is checked out.

That's why I'm so grateful to have James to spend the rest of my life with, because for all of our faults and foibles and mistakes and difficulties, we're both equally committed to each other. 

The past 13 years and some change have been challenging at times. We've had issues with one or both kids at different times (and the same time). We've had pet stuff that has been maddening and devastating. We've hurt each other, and we've been too tired to put much of an effort in at varying moments.

But ultimately, we care about each other and respect each other. We love each other, and we even like each other. 

A lot of people encouraged me as I was proceeding with my divorce 15 years ago not to give up, and to keep trying to hold it together. But I was experienced enough to know that this was fighting a losing battle. I've never had that weight of hopelessness last more than a couple of minutes since I've been married to James.

We have both cared deeply for each other, and we've also hurt each other maybe even deeper, on accident. We've had misunderstandings and times that different people at different times might have considered deal-breakers. But we've also supported each other and lifted each other up and overlooked so much because ultimately, we know what we want out of our lives and we want them intertwined.

As of August 1, 2026, I've been married to James longer than I have been married to anyone else. It turns out that it's not that difficult; but I'm still really proud of both of us. 

There have been less weird weeks

Do you ever just have a time where it feels like you can't get your head above water?

Nothing terrible has happened this week. In fact, we've had some really sweet times with friends and amongst our household. But it's been... something else.

We were supposed to take Rudy to the vet to get his glucose monitor affixed on Monday, but the vet didn't sent a prescription for the monitor itself (we did get the insulin and the needles), so we had to wait until Tuesday.

Monday, Malcolm and I went to the last summer movie camp show of this season, Bad Guys 2. It was pretty cute.

Tuesday, D and I went to the vet with Rudy. They showed D how to give him his shots, and they jammed a pin into his hip. I mean, that's the business end of the glucose monitor, but it was a whole production. D said if they'd opened the unit to try to put it on themself, they'd have closed it right back and called the doctor to make an appointment. 

The first shot seemed to work, and Rudy's glucose got within range.

Also that day, Malcolm and I went to our regular library/park group and he was actually positively peer-pressured into swimming IN THE LAKE! He is not a lake boy by any means. They had a great time, though, and it was nice to be outside, even though it's been in the 90s all week.

Later in the day, I called the doctor's office because Rudy's glucose was still within range. They said that unless the glucose was below 100, go ahead and give him the next shot. We did... and then I woke up at 3 AM because Aish was acting weird. I looked and Rudy's glucose was near the bottom of the "green" zone and still going down. I was awake for about 2 hours before it started evening out. The monitor will send out an alarm if it gets below 55, but we wanted to avoid hypoglycemia. I finally went back to sleep when it looked like it was evening out.

The next morning, we skipped the shot since his glucose was below 100. After he ate breakfast, though, it started going up again. I did a lot of research and this doesn't seem to be normal. He reacts A LOT to insulin. 

On Wednesday, I was supposed to take Malcolm to Volente Beach, but I asked James if he'd do it so I could rest. I'd also learned that because I paired my phone with the app, my phone had to stay with Rudy or we couldn't get a reading on his glucose since it's a Bluetooth connection. Sigh.

BUT James got called in to work (we need the 8-hour shift!), so I took Malcolm. We had a nice time and, again, "touch grass" is a command because it works. 

Wednesday evening, Rudy's glucose was 350, D gave him a shot, and it tanked again. This time, we were both awake from 1 AM until 4 AM before his blood sugar leveled out and we were EXHAUSTED.

By the time we woke up, his blood sugar was going back up, and while D didn't want to give him a shot, I talked them into it. Two hours later, James took Rudy in to the vet because Rudy was having trouble keeping his legs under himself. We'd given him some corn syrup but it wasn't moving the needle. The vet sent him back home, saying he seemed fine, but that we could bring him back in if he was hypoglycemic... which he was, and we did so ???

Low blood sugar is an acute situation that can cause death. High blood sugar is a long-term situation that can eventually lead to organ failure and diabetic ketoacidosis. I was beginning to feel crazy and hopeless. I think it was the sleep deprivation.

James told me he thought I'd smeared some eye makeup under my left eye, but it was just dark bags from two nights with incredibly interrupted sleep. I felt like a newborn parent whose baby is very ill. 

During that time, James DID take Malcolm to Lago Vista to the swimming pool. When they got there, though, they were told that a kid in swim practice threw up and they'd need 15 minutes to clean out the pool. They went to the hardware store and when they came back, they were told that actually, a supervisor was coming in from Austin so it would be another hour or two. 

James had to work at 6, it was already 2:15, so they came home. Malcolm was so disappointed.

Now that I knew that my phone had to stay at the house, I messaged the whole Friday Urban Air crew to see who was going to be there, since I wouldn't be reachable once we left the house. One family was going to see a movie, one family is out of town, but the other family said they'd be there. Friday plans in the bag.

The vet said to change Rudy to only a half unit of insulin, and only to give it to him when his glucose is over 300. We saw it going up last night, but we needed to sleep so didn't give him a shot.

Malcolm had a very emotional time, loving on Rudy and worrying about his dying. "I can't imagine life without him."

This morning (Friday), D gave Rudy barely .5 unit and it worked; he just needs a TINY drop more to get him into the green zone before it finally bottoms out and is steady. It seems more hopeful today than it did yesterday. 

Malcolm and I went to Urban Air and about 10 minutes after we arrived, I got a text (via my computer and wifi; I wasn't sure that would work until it did) from the ONE PERSON who said they'd be at Urban Air today that she just couldn't get out of bed and her kid didn't feel like coming. BIG SIGH.

Anyway, if you're wondering how we're affording all of this diabetic care for Rudy... we're liquidating one of our old accounts. It's just money, right? And actually, if we don't keep having to take Rudy in to the vet, switch meds, and all of that junk, the actual insulin and accouterments will be less expensive than the food we're feeding our senior cats! Did I mention that D is pitching in? They're really stepping up for this thing.

Now we have a weekend that will hopefully be pretty quiet. It's hot, so we'll be doing a lot of staying inside, except when James has to work in the garden center and when I have to water plants. 

Here are bookends of my day today: Sunrise walk, and golden hour plant-watering. 

This is my neighborhood and I get to see stuff like this on the regular. #blessed

This is my view when I'm squatting down filling my watering can at the rain barrel.

Oh no; I just pulled a Mom move

Just now, Malcolm came in to tell me that the scene in Disney/Pixar's Cars where a group of cars comes up and messes with Mac (Lightning's tractor trailer who transports him to races) while he's nodding off has become a recent meme. Apparently when those cars come onscreen, people love it because it looks so cool. You might remember that Malcolm used to have die-cast cars of every major, minor, and incidental character in all of the movies and those cars were some of his favorite.

I asked, "What was the name of their gang?" Mal said, "I don't remember." I offered, "I think it was something like the Rowdy Ramblers." Malcolm was skeptical but didn't care too much and went about his business.

I did care, so I looked it up and they were the Delinquent Road Hazards (or just Road Hazards, for short). It cracked me up so much. What an old mom thing to do!

Rowdy Ramblers ride!!

Rudy's New Diagnosis

 

This little idiot gots the diabetus.

We found out Wednesday and have been scrambling the rest of the week to get things ready to start him on insulin Monday. 

YES, insulin. For our cat. Because other than the diabetes (technically super high blood and urine glucose), he's very healthy for a 17-year-old cat.

Initially, I was overwhelmed. First is finding an insulin dose that works. After that process (expensive because every 10 days we have to buy a new glucose monitor AND take him in to the vet to get it placed three times), he has to have two shots of insulin every day for the rest of his life. 

Honestly, I can't do it. I can't commit to that. He could live 5-7 more years and I already have so much on my plate.

So D has stepped up and said they can manage his care, with me as a backup. James will do what he can, but his work schedule is so random and Rudy will needs shots at pretty much the same time every single day.

The last time Rudy went to the vet was about a year ago, and he had some kidney function issues, but those have actually improved (probably because of the copious amounts of water he's drinking). We took him in this time because he's going through the whole diabetic playbook: weight loss, extreme thirst, always being famished, sleeping all of the time (in all fairness, he has slept most of the time, anyway; but now he's lethargic even when he's awake). 

We've already changed his food to a high-protein, low carb wet food. He and Aish both seemed to like it at first, but weren't thrilled with it this morning. I finally got Rudy to eat a full serving, but Aish wasn't desperate enough. We'll feed her the same as what we feed Rudy, for now, because it's a senior formula and not a prescription food for diabetes. The higher protein and lower carbs might help her keep muscle mass that Rudy seems to have lost.

D is getting all of the supplies today, Sunday will be a little break in the action, and then Monday morning we head to the vet for shot coaching. Whew, I'm already tired and we haven't even started. So grateful that D is taking point on this because otherwise, we'd just be doing the diet change and hoping for the best. 

As I say with our trips: If our financial house of cards falls down, the couple thousand we're spending on this little adventure wouldn't have made the difference. Huzzah and happy weekend!

Malcolm and Problem-Solving

Yesterday, after our Tuesday library group disbanded, I wanted to walk down to the lake to see the water level, which is full for the first time in years. The kids had elected to stay at the library both hours because of the heat (we usually go to the park after), and Malcolm was not interested in going with me on my little jaunt. 

I gave him the house keys, reminded him that our door is a little tricky to open, and gave him the secret move to make it work. I told him to text me when he got into the house (he only has an iPad so couldn't communicate with me until he was inside), and I walked down to the park.

Nice! A picnic at the lake... rather IN the lake.

After I looked around a bit, I contemplated walking to the far end of the park to check things out, but it had been long enough that Malcolm should have made it to the house. While it was possible that he'd forgotten to message me, I had a mental image of him lying on the day bed on the porch, being very hot and frustrated, so I decided to go on up the hill.

As I rounded the corner to our street, I saw our across-the-street neighbor walking from our driveway to her house. When I got home, I asked Malcolm if she'd unlocked the door, and he said yes. 

Apparently, "[i]t wasn’t working and it was scorching out so I got [her] to help."

We're going to practice unlocking the door (something I've done with D but hadn't gotten around to yet with Malcolm) so he can do it on his own, but I was pretty pleased to know that he didn't just shut down and flail. 

Today, he's supposed to go to a thing and has made sure several times that I will drop him off and not stay. I can't say I'm offended. I genuinely enjoy his growing independence. 

He's saving up for various LEGO sets he wants, and has been doing jobs around the house, like dusting and picking up sticks in the yard before I mow. I'm going to really encourage him to try to find a job as soon as he can.

Super proud of my big kid!

Time Machine

In looking for something else, I found an essay I'd written back in the fall of 2012, months after James and I had started dating and months before we got married. It still holds true today, so I'm going to post it:

Sometimes I Feel Like I Don’t Have a Partner
November 15, 2012

“I hope you find whatever it is that you’re looking for.”

This is one of the last things that my ex-husband told me before I moved to Austin. He seemed genuinely baffled, as though I’d always been looking for something that he couldn’t give me, and maybe in a way this is true. But I’ve always known what I wanted, and I thought that I was pretty clear in communicating this to him… over and over and over for years and years. But it was apparently still a mystery to him.

This week, I went on vacation with D and James. When we got to the condo, James helped carry everything up, and when he saw that I was unpacking in my room, he went into his room to unpack. He told me, “If it were just me, I’d leave everything laying around.”

He wanted to help when I was cooking our meals. He wanted to go when D and I went to the playground to hang out. He was disappointed this morning when he learned that I’d taken the cooler down instead of letting him do it.

When we got to the trailer, he helped get everything in and helped put things away, get the laundry started, and made sure that I didn’t need anything else before he sat down to work on the computer.

I get the mess that is missed e-mail, and in our case NaNoWriMo catch-ups, and work that is now backlogged and all of that… so I never resent the need to get back to real life when vacation is over. But I didn’t realize fully how much I had missed and how nice it was to have someone to help me reacclimatize so that I could do the same.

I have, for my whole life, wanted a partner. I have wanted someone who was different enough from me that we’d have interesting conversations and be able to enjoy each other’s viewpoints, but who was willing to work with me to be a team. Andy tried to argue with me when we saw things differently. Ken was the same way. It wasn’t enough that I had an opinion or a thought that perhaps I’d very carefully considered before coming to the conclusion I had reached. I was wrong and needed to be taught how to think correctly. When I didn’t agree, there was a breakdown in community. We could never agree to disagree and then get on with life.

Ken in particular took my differences of opinion as disunity. I did not understand that. I wasn’t threatened or offended by his differences.

I was lonely, though. I wrote him letter upon letter about wanting company, about wanting someone who seemed to enjoy being around me, who liked spending time with me and would be “there” when he was there. 

This might not be something he was able to provide. It made for a lonely existence.

When Ken was with me, and later with D and me, he could be in the moment for a while, but then he would retreat into whatever reality he preferred and we were left to our own devices. This is fine now, when I expect it to be just D and me, but it was horribly sad when my expectation was that we were supposed to be in it together.

So often, it was him versus me. I never understood this. I never got why he would be so frustrated when I was happy or having a good time. This is one thing I especially appreciate about James. If I got the opportunity to spend a week in Europe with Rockapella or Weird Al or a group of girlfriends, James would be at the airport seeing me off with a big smile on his face and yelling behind me things like, “Take lots of pictures!” “Bring me back some good cheese!” “I’ll miss you!” Then he’d get on with his life that week, miss me a lot, and be very happy to see me when I returned.

What I just described sounds normal, as though of course this is what would happen. When you live with someone who isn’t your partner, though, there is a shift in reality, so that it is just slightly “off.” First of all, Ken never would have let me go to Europe without him because he would be afraid that I would do something “stupid.” If I were to go anyway, he’d sit at home all week, checking Facebook updates and pictures, and getting more and more angry with me. He might send an email message telling me to enjoy my trip because I was never going on a trip again.

When I got home, he’d have let the house get horribly messy, and he wouldn’t help me bring anything in from the car, and he would likely ignore me for a week.

This was my reality. I never went to Europe without Ken, but I was punished for being happy. I was made to feel guilty when I enjoyed life outside of my house. I was viewed with suspicion and resentment. And all that I wanted was a partner.

This is why, I believe, I fell into such deep “love” with my dearest friend after my marriage was over. My friend said that he was attracted to me, and the deep respect for and work ethic he had regarding marriage were extremely attractive to me. I thought that if the two of us got together, we could have an incredible partnership. Only it was going to cost him too much, so he backed out. The problem was that I had already fallen hard and fast for the idea of having a functional family, and all of the meals and reunions and fun outings and even the stress that goes with that.

I got caught in a repeating loop of need and wants and trying to talk someone unwilling to partner with me into doing so against his better judgment.

This time, though, things are different. I can feel it. James is an admitted introvert, and being “with people” is a challenge for him. After spending four full days in all-out family vacation mode, though, he said he didn’t feel like climbing the walls. That’s incredible. And he was in the moment the whole time, except for zoning out at dinner trying to figure out a plot device he’d used.

The point is that I never felt lonely. James wrote over 17,000 words during the days that we were on vacation, and we still spent more time together and had more conversation and hung out and played games and were genuinely together in a way that I have never experienced before. I feel like I’m heading toward something immense. And I am grateful.

All I have wanted my entire life is to have a partner, to have someone with me to share things and to show me things and to be with me. For the first time in years, I believe that this dream has a possibility of coming true.

For the first time in my life, I can watch a romantic movie and not be pensive; I can actually be happy for the lovers, and imagine how they feel. That might sound sappy and stupid, but that has never been an experience that I have had. I’ve never felt secure in any relationship that I have ever had, even the better of them.

I have always been afraid that I was one screw-up or prettier girl from losing. And I’m not scared anymore.

So I suppose that the most amazing thing about James is that I trust him. I trust him with my heart. I have given it to him completely, and I am not worried that he will be careless with it or unequal to the task.

James is a strong man, with very different experiences and views than mine. But he will make it right if he thinks I’ve misunderstood him. He will call me and say, “We’re so not breaking up over this.” He is willing to work. He has worked. He has proven himself truer in the most stressful of situations, and we continue to get stronger as a team. I love him. He loves me. We have acknowledged that neither of us is perfect, but that we are both perfect for each other.

It’s taken me half of my life, but I have a partner. Happy mid-life to me.

Cancer Scare(ier)

Two years ago when I was getting multiple biopsies to try to ascertain whether or not I had cancer in my neck, I wasn't that fussed about it. Either I did or I didn't, and if I did, then it was a simple matter of removing it surgically and maybe having some targeted iodine radiation if it looked like it had spread.

I was confident in my care team and just didn't think about it too much.

About a year after my surgery, my endocrinologist ordered a follow-up DEXA scan (to make sure my post-surgery efforts were indeed regrowing bone) and a neck ultrasound (to make sure everything was out). I told her that I simply could not afford imaging since we lost our health insurance. She understood.

I spoke with her for the second time since my surgery this week, and she said she was aware that I was unable to get imaging, but that there is also one lab that she's ordered twice and that I have not gotten since my thyroid was removed two years ago.

The reason I haven't had this test done is semi-complicated. She is sending lab requests to Quest but because I don't have insurance and instead pay out of pocket for my labs, I actually have to use a third party company (Ulta Labs). I go to their site, find the tests she wants me to have done, and buy them myself so that by the time I show up for the blood draw (Quest only charges Ulta $12 for this, and I can't see how they stay afloat!), everything's already paid for.

The issue here is two-fold: 1) The tests on the website aren't always called exactly what the doctor calls them. 2) Me. I'm the other problem. I'm not a medical professional so I'm trying to read the description of the tests and match them as closely as possible to what she wants. Stuff like a CBC with differential or a lipid panel is pretty straightforward. But is free T4 different than T4? I... don't know the answer to that and it seems like I should be an expert by now!

So... I haven't had a thyroglobulin test since my surgery. I've had several thyroglobulin antibody tests, and those have been negative (which is great; I shouldn't have Hashimoto's if I don't have a thyroid!). I thought that those tests meant we were in the clear. But no. She said neck ultrasound and thyroglobulin levels are how she makes sure we don't have a recurrence of cancer.

I finally understood and paid for the test she's been wanting all of this time. I had it done yesterday.

I'm pretty sure I'm fine, but the thought that I could have "persistent papillary thyroid cancer" (which happens in 10-30% of papillary thyroid cancer patients) hits different than it did the first time for one single reason: We no longer have health insurance.

James got laid off 5 days before my surgery in May 2024, but our coverage extended into August. It was over $60,000 and we did not pay a penny because we'd already hit our deductible for the year.

If I required further surgery and likely follow-up iodine radiation, I'm not sure what we'd do. It would be even more expensive. It would be a bankrupting-level expense.

Today at our library group, my friend pointed out that of the 48 countries represented at the World Cup, the United States is the only country that does not have universal healthcare. 

For me, the fear associated with finding out "it's back" isn't for my health. It's still a very survivable cancer. But it is how our lives would change when we were personally responsible for such an astronomical sum, especially adding in the nuclear imaging and all of the other pre-surgical stuff I had done before.

Fortunately, my lab results came back today and my thyroglobulin level is .1 which is practically zero; it will likely be 0 in another year or so. This is really good, especially since I'm no longer on a suppressing level of synthetic thyroid hormone (which I was for a year to try to prevent any residual tissue from growing).

Additionally, my surgeon is someone who has done tens of thousands of parathyroid/thyroid surgeries and I trust her completely. She took out a few lymph nodes for testing, and neither they nor my errant parathyroid were cancerous; it was just the thyroid. She said she thinks the inflammation from Hashimoto's almost made a little "wrapper" that kept the cancer isolated.

I've been fortunate. 

But it makes me mad that we're expected to rely on fortune, luck, the grace of any god, or our bootstraps to maintain our health. 

Elon Musk has just become the world's first trillionaire. No one should accumulate that much money. Especially when, if he just paid a fair share in taxes, we could absolutely use some of HIS fortune to improve the lives of hundreds of thousands of estadounidenses (I wish we had an English word for this). 

I guess keep your fingers (and toes) crossed for me that it doesn't come back or that it holds out until I qualify for Medicare in 12 years! And that Medicare is still around. Also Social Security. And please vote for a candidate who aligns with your wellbeing in the next election. I mean you, non-oligarch-level-rich person. Thanks.