A Thing I Learned About My Asthma Treatment and the Rest of My Body

That was a long title! Thank you for staying with me.

This past month has been an education, for sure.

When James got laid off, he got a stipend to pay for COBRA (a continuation of his work-provided healthcare) for three months. That ended on August 31.

We're all pretty healthy, but D and I are on a few prescriptions, including two pretty expensive meds (one each). Mine is my maintenance inhaler.

For many years, I just didn't have access to a maintenance inhaler because of the cost. They're several hundred dollars every month! I would get the albuterol rescue inhalers ($30 per month, except when I and friends/family bought them in Mexico) and had to use them at least once a day, and usually closer to 4 times per day. It sucked, but it was relief and I appreciated it.

Indeed was the first company that offered family insurance at a low enough rate that we felt like we could swing it. Soon after that, I started on a maintenance inhaler and it was an absolute game changer. I kept my albuterol, but only needed it on particularly bad allergy days. 

I was on Flovent for about 3.5 years, then my insurance stopped covering it. I was upset but they offered an alternative in Pulmicort. I switched, but after a few months, I could see that it wasn't as effective for me. I was having to use a rescue inhaler a couple of times per week, much more frequently than I was used to.

Just as I was about to contact our insurance about other alternatives, they reached out to me to say that Pulmicort was being discontinued (and apparently Flovent was also discontinued at the beginning of 2024). 

This time, I was switched to Wixela, which is a generic version of the meds combo in Advair.

This one seemed weird because instead of being an atomized liquid, it is very powdery. I didn't always remember to rinse out my mouth after taking the other inhalers, but I definitely remembered with this one. 

I took it for probably a year before we lost our insurance. The sticker price for the inhaler is over $300 a month. Even with a discount card, it was more than $100. Just not feasible.

Fortunately for me, I had backups of both the Pulmicort and the Flovent because when they refilled, I typically still had some left. I decided to start with the Flovent, which was older, mostly because it actually worked for me. My hope was that by the time I ran out of Flovent, we would have insurance again.

A week or so after I ran out of the Wixela and returned to the Flovent, my daily intense bouts with acid reflux returned. I was on Prilosec for about five years because otherwise I was awakened by painful burning in my throat one or two nights per week. You're only supposed to take Prilosec for 2 weeks because it can cause bone loss and kidney issues, but your girl has to sleep.

However, as I realized that I had bone loss and kidney stress from the hypercalcemia that comes with hyperparathyroidism, I stopped taking Prilosec in the first quarter of this year. I was still having some acid reflux, but never the tear-inducing wake-you-up pain of before, and I was able to treat it with normal antacids (which did not put a dent in my GERD before). Side note: my symptoms improved noticeably after my parathyroid removal.

As my acid reflux became more prevalent and intrusive, I googled "Flovent and acid reflux." It's not common, but some asthma medicines can relax the lower esophageal sphincter, thus allowing acid to travel up the esophagus. 

Desperate to keep my asthma at bay while still being able to do things like sit down and go to sleep without having my chest on fire, I searched and was able to find a way to get the Wixela for $50 a month at a pharmacy more out of the way than the one we typically use.

Would I have been willing to pay $50 at the beginning of this experience? Meh. Probably not. If the Flovent had worked as well as it used to AND I hadn't had acid reflux, it would have been fine. But from here on out, I'm going to pay my 50 bucks and thank my lucky stars that our insurance jerked me around so much with different options so that I found this one!

I took the Wixela yesterday and was able to lie down last night and sleep all night with zero burning. So, yay! Some people try to avoid medicines at all costs, but, man, the quality of life that some of them offer is just an absolute miracle. Big Pharma? Boo!! But I can't quit them because they're truly just so so good at what they do.

The End of My Crocs Era?

For probably the better part of a decade, all of my shoes were Crocs. I LOVED Crocs. I was a Crocs evangelist! People think they're ugly? Who cares?! Wear what you like! You can't argue with the comfort!

But something happened...

A weird thing about my Crocs obsession was that I don't actually like their clogs. I don't find clogs comfortable, and because I have very high arches, the tops of my feet are up higher than most feet, I suppose. Clogs give me blisters. 

The good thing, though, is that Crocs used to make all kinds of styles of shoes beyond just their clogs. 

During the past few years, it seems like they've tightened up their lines. They're all made of that rubbery Crocs material, and they're mostly variations of clogs. They have platform shoes, sandals, and even rain boots. But they're all the same hard material and the past couple of pairs I've ordered, I had to send back because they were too big or too uncomfortable.

I think I'm done ordering Crocs... for me. Mal still loves them. Regardless, I'm sad that this go-to for me is no longer an option. 

And so, to honor the Crocs of the past, let's stroll through some of the Crocs I've worn (and worn out) in the past ten years...

I almost never need rain boots but I do still have these and wear them in rain and snow!

Cute Mary Janes I could wear AND dip my feet into a pond/fountain in downtown Dallas.

I LOVED these; they have the Croc material sole but stretchy fabric uppers.

Adorable boat shoes with a fake leather thread.

I still wear these shoes, sans lining, when I'm working outside.

Little yellow and blue print on white flats.

Blue floral print on a black background.

Okay, these were Mal's. But they were the same-ish as my shoes with Croc bottoms and cloth uppers

Another pair of Mary Janes. They were translucent! And so flexible.

Heels that look strappy and complicated but aren't. I still have these and wear them extremely rarely, but they're surprisingly comfortable.

 Fare thee well, Crocs! I'll miss all of the fun we had.

Weird Morning

 

We toured KXAN today with Mal's school and it was a neat time!

Before that, though... I had a really strange morning.

First, when I woke up, it was from a dream in which I saw a homeschool friend I'd had in Sherman. In the context of my dream, I'd had a baby soon after Mal and had given it to her, as she really wanted another kid but since she was a bit older than I was, wasn't able to get pregnant again. We hadn't seen each other in years, and I wanted to ask about the kid, but couldn't remember what my friend had named her.

"How's Little Girl?" I asked.

"That doesn't really describe her anymore!" my friend answered.

Then I remembered that we'd just given her the baby without any formalities. I thought that it was probably time to discuss her formally adopting the child (who, at this point, would be 9ish?).

Weird dream.

Then I woke up a little too early to go on a walk, but since we had a pretty early leave time (for our family), I decided to get out while it was still dark (and 49 degrees! yay!). As I was walking down a nearby street, I greeted a man who was walking up the road the opposite direction from me. He passed, but I could tell that he was talking to me. I was listening to a podcast but had the earphones on transparent mode. I still couldn't understand him. I finally took out one earbud and asked him to repeat himself.

"Are you the mail lady?"

"No."

He nodded. "Oh, yeah! Red!"

I said, "Not anymore."

He walked over to me, stuck out his arm like he was an escort, and said gregariously, "Let's walk!"

It kind of alarming, but I didn't feel scared, so I just took his arm and walked with him.

He asked what I was doing, and I told him I was getting some exercise before my kid woke up. I asked him where he was heading, and he said he was just walking around. 

During this exchange, he looked at me again. 

"Sharon?" he asked.

"No."

He dropped my arm and said, "Oh! I'm sorry! I can't see details." 

I told him it was fine and he continued to walk the direction I was walking, but he gradually walked to the other side of the road. When I got to my turn (which happened to go by the police department, but I'd already planned my route before I saw him), I wished him a good day and he went on his way.

Weird.

Finally, when I got home from my walk, I checked the mailbox and found a piece of kids' handwriting paper folded over with red marker writing on it reading "jet lost cat". Not sure what to do with that.  

So... how's your day been?

The Second Round

Last week, I'd started on a blog post about my feelings regarding the outcome of the most recent US elections. I got most of the way through and ran out of steam, plus I wrote a bunch about it on our family Slack and that blew up. Lots of hurt feelings, lots of not really seeing each other, lots of stuff that we might never fully work through but we're family and we love each other anyway. But it's still an open wound.

Wednesday morning, James's first words to me were, "What do we do now?" If I need to explain to you why we're dumbfounded and upset, then you don't really know my family and there's too much to catch you up on here. Regardless, I had a clear-ish vision: "We take care of our kids. We do what's best for our family." As we spoke, I realized that James was in a tailspin and I was perhaps not as gracious as I could have been. I was in active survival mode and James needed a few days to process and gain his bearings. I know that my inability to suffer prolonged bouts of vulnerability in others is one of my character flaws. I've been thinking on that as I've looked at rentals in Minneapolis and priced snow pants, crampons for all, and winter tires.

The past few weeks, I've been listening to various episodes of a podcast my sister mentioned to me: The Bodies Behind the Bus. The most recent episode I listened to resonated do deeply with me. The guest was Eric Isaac. He was talking about creating his own definition of spiritual abuse. I couldn't find a transcript, so ended up transcribing his thoughts on my own. And I ruminated.

This morning, it all came together in my brain, why I feel like I know where we are, why I feel so personally worn down and discouraged, and why my instinct was to ramp up and do this thing, whereas James needed more time to grieve and come to grips with reality.

First, I'm going to share Eric Isaac's definition of spiritual abuse: "Spiritual abuse is its own umbrella category of abuse. Any form of abuse — sexual, emotional, psychological, vocational, or other — can fall under the category of spiritual abuse if God or the sacred is presented as complicit or used to justify abuse by power-holders through attempting to coerce or manipulate others for the purposes of control. The effects of this unique form of abuse can create unique theological or ontological trauma that can leave a lasting abusive construction of the sacred or God long after the individuals have removed themselves from the abusive environment. Spiritual abuse can also create and inform entire faith communities and institutions that are built on abusive manipulations of the sacred, perpetuating abusive conceptions of the sacred, alongside behavior by institutionalizing the conceptions of the sacred."

By that definition, I've been the victim of spiritual abuse multiple times in my life.

First, I was married to someone for 13 years who would make a decision (for example: that I needed not to talk to my sister as often as I was) and say, "If that's the wrong decision, then someday I will answer to God for it. But I'm responsible for this family, and that is my decision as to what's best for us."

Second, when I set about to leave that man, the church where I'd served for more than 6 years called me into meetings almost every day for two weeks trying to talk me out of divorcing him because "What if Jesus is going to save your marriage tomorrow and you gave up one day early?" They didn't what to appear to support the idea of divorce, so they micromanaged my behavior (or tried to; I'm bad at obeying when I disagree) for over a year before I folded and moved away. This was after they invited me to leave several times.

Third, when James and I got engaged, my church leadership tried to talk us both out of it. Since James isn't a believer, they didn't want me yoking myself to him. In the end, the preacher told me, "If you're not willing to submit to this part of our leadership, I'm not sure what we have for you here." This hurt, but when I found out that he'd groomed another young member of that church and carried on an inappropriate extramarital relationship with them (which started as sexual assault and continued through spiritual abuse over time) for many years, I was just mad.

Mad at the control for their own purposes. Mad at withholding the love of Christ because their priority was maintaining the glowing reputation of the church. Mad that the parable of the 99 sheep doesn't seem to apply to these people and their organizations: When you have a lost sheep, that's where you devote resources and love... you aren't supposed to just say, "Wow, you're a mess. Sacrificing the one for the 99 is just good math."

I have decades of experience in the arena of, "You'll do what I tell you to do or you'll suffer the consequences because God and stuff."

Years ago, when I was cleaning out my closet to prepare for moving from our family home of 7 years into the RV that D and I share for a couple of pretty awesome years, I remember a feeling washed over me. It said, "No help is coming."

For weeks, I'd been telling my story to anyone who would listen, in hopes that they'd understand my predicament, have some empathy, and walk through the process as my corroborating testimony. (To be clear, I did have friends who rose to this occasion, but no one on the church staff; no one who had any ability to make my presence in that body anything other than a thorn in the side of leadership.)

That message that I was on my own was kind of freeing. It allowed me to stop looking for a soft heart where none existed and instead redouble my efforts to move ahead, knowing what I needed to do.

The trauma of that lives large in my life to this day. I think that's why the quote about spiritual abuse felt so affirming and cathartic. It helped me see that when I'm triggered with a certain flavor of despair, I click immediately back into that mindset.

Last week, I tried to explain my hurt regarding the election to people who couldn't hear it. I guess I haven't learned that lesson yet. I'll just commiserate with those close to me who feel the same way I do and keep doing what I always do: taking care of my family and putting one foot in front of the other. Oh, and resisting. Because, as you now know, I do not obey well when I don't trust my leaders.

Morning Person in a House of Night Owls

Mal has been sleeping a little later than usual, which is great because we're about to head out of Daylight Saving Time.

Since his school starts at 10 AM, I actually had to wake him up at 9:00. He goes to be at 11 PM so probably got at least 9.5 hours of sleep. I think he's about to have a growth spurt because he's been sleeping more than usual, and has been very hungry.

By the time I woke Mal up, I'd walked 2.5 miles, cleaned up and gotten dressed, made myself breakfast, and even went to pick up a grocery order.

I am a morning person.

No one else in my family is (as you can tell, with Mal consistently going to sleep around 11). 

D used to be. Until we moved into the RV, D's bedtime was 7 PM, with a lights-out time of 8 PM. Was this a challenge during the summer? You bet. But D was mostly fine with it, and would wake up bright and early. D never got out of bed before 7 AM, but just like at night, could read or entertain themself until they could wake me up at 7.

Once D went through adolescence, though, they became nocturnal. Some of that was just a shift based on puberty. But also, that's about the time Mal was born, and some of it was wanting to be awake and doing things when it was peaceful.

James would totally live the 3 AM bedtime/noonish wake-up/afternoon nap life if it were possible while still taking care of a family. He sometimes forces himself to go to bed when I do, but it feels very weird to come home from my walk and have him awake and being productive. That's just not usually his scene.

One of the joys of early walks is various iterations of the sunrise.

Update: Daylight Saving just ended this morning, and I'm already in bed trying my best to stay awake until 9 PM so I don't wake up at 3:30 AM tomorrow!

When the party's over...

We fly home tomorrow and I'm having a lot of mixed feelings!

At two weeks, this is the longest vacation I've ever taken. There have been some moments of stress, but every day was unfailingly fun and we saw so many awesome things.

We started in Carlsbad, visiting LEGOLAND and the Museum of Making Music. We stayed three nights at the LEGOLAND Hotel, and it was terrific: price comparable to other hotels in the area, great theming, good pools, and a full breakfast buffet included.

Next, we took a Lyft up to Anaheim to visit Disneyland, Disney's California Adventure, and, of course, Downtown Disney. This is also where we celebrated Mal's birthday. We stayed four nights at the Howard Johnson Anaheim and it could not have been better. Great staff, clean room, super close to everywhere you want to be, great garden pool. It also has a small water park, but Mal couldn't have cared less about that. He was in the pool every day.

We rented a car to move up to Burbank, but that ended up being not hugely necessary. We did go to Bob's Big Boy, but our plans to visit the Griffith Observatory were scrapped because there were just too many people. Even visiting a small park to see the Hollywood sign, we had to park down the road. So many IGers! We did get an Amazon gift card from Avis and so that likely made the cost of the car about the same as if we'd taken another Lyft.

In North Hollywood, we stayed two nights at The Garland, a hotel built by Amanda King's mom herself, Beverly Garland. Her sons run it now. It was classy and retro, and I wish we could stay there a week. Loved it so much. Mal also loved the pool! We visited Universal and concentrated mostly on Super Mario World. I HIGHLY recommend paying $30 extra to get into that area before the park opens. Between that and single rider and hitting other rides within the first hour the park was open, we would have been finished by noon if we hadn't had reservations at... this place. It took me a while after I saw my charge today to remember what it was. Can you guess?

Ha ha. That's right: Toadstool Cafe.

We rented a car through AARP from Enterprise and drove from Los Angeles to Solvang. We stopped at Santa Barbara on the way, got our feet in the sand (and tar on our soles), then stayed one night at The M Solvang. We really enjoyed the Danish atmosphere, and the Danish pancakes, Danish sausage, and aebleskiver. 

The drive from Solvang to Yosemite was just over 5 hours, but it passed quickly. We finished up "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets" (disclaiming Jo Rowling, shame she's sullied her legacy by being a bully). We stopped for lunch at Huckleberry's, which was billed as "Southern Cooking with a California Twist." We had to see what was up. It was kind of like Cracker Barrel meets Mark Twain in New Orleans.

At Yosemite, we stayed at the Yosemite Valley Lodge, the most expensive night of the trip! It was pretty rustic and no air conditioning (which normally would be no biggie, but they're experiencing a record-breaking heat wave right now!) but they had several fans we were able to use to keep the air circulating, and we were quite comfy! 

It was great walking around in nature before people woke up because at places like Tunnel View and the Mariposa Grove of giant sequoias, there were just to many people. I know! We were some of those people. But first thing in the morning, it was cool, quiet, and lovely! Even when we went to breakfast and it was pretty packed, it was somehow more laid back than everyone trying to get the perfect selfie in front of El Capitan (which was GORGEOUS, even with literally 80 other people).

Next, we made our way to San Francisco, where we stayed at the Music City Hotel and Rehearsal. It is technically a hostel, but we had a private room. We did have to use community bathrooms, and it was no big deal. This was the cheapest night of the trip: About $135, plus $28 parking. Not bad at all. Also no air conditioner but fortunately we were there the day before the record heat.

We definitely did the tourist thing and saw the Golden Gate Bridge, then went to Fisherman's Wharf, where we ate fresh seafood. We also visited Trader Joe's for snacks.

The next morning, we drove over the Golden Gate Bridge to Fairfield, where we went to the Jelly Belly Factory. We also watched a movie, "The Wild Robot," while we were in town. Then we finished our last leg, arriving in Sacramento yesterday afternoon.

Last night and this, we are staying at The Delta King, a de- and re-commissioned paddle wheel river boat. Like the Music City hotel, this place has tons of personality. 

I had returned the rental car last night, so this morning (before it got into the 100s), we walked to the Capitol building, and explored Old Sacramento. Later, we went to the California Railway Museum. 

Now we're just winding down and getting ready to head back. I'll be glad to see D, and Mal is excited to get back together with his friends. But also, it's been amazing not having to do the day-to-day minutiae of real life. And we've had such a great time together.

I wish we could take a year, slow down, and really see as much of the country as we were able. I wish we could all 4 go, and find a way to make it work in an oversized RV, maybe with two floors. But James needs to find work again, and we need to get back to a less expensive routine. We're heading into fall, so pretty soon I will be deliriously happy about the weather. 

Good times with some really amazing experiences. If you want to see a vast pictorial history of the fortnight, there's an album here.

Southern California Amusement Parks, some thoughts

We've officially been on vacation for a week, during which time we have visited 4 theme parks: LEGOLAND California, Disneyland, Disney's California Adventure, and Universal Studios Hollywood.

Those are all of the parks we'll be visiting on this trip (theme, anyway; we're going to a National Park soon!). We definitely had good experiences in all, and some less good. I'm going to start with the less good.

For each of these parks, we got there for rope drop (Mal was very worried that "rope drop" was an extremely scary ride he did not want to join; had to fill him in on the lingo). The first hour or two we were in each of the parks, we got to do a lot of rides (well, most days; Mal didn't feel great the day we went to Disneyland, and we wasted some time doing the monorail instead of riding rides that would be too busy to ride later, but he REALLY wanted to ride the monorail and we were trying to keep him happy). After a couple of hours, lines got longer.

However, there was a HUGE difference in what this looked like at LEGOLAND and Universal vs. what it looked like at the two Disney parks. 

This is the first time I've ever been to Disneyland. When we planned the trip, the days we were going were predicted to be fairly middling. Disneyland Resort was forecasted to have medium crows, with 4/10 at Disneyland and 6/10 at California Adventure. I just looked and the crowd calendars were just way off. Our day at Disneyland, crowds were at a 7. DCA day, 8. And we felt it. After noon, there were just wall-to-wall people. We couldn't have a chat as we walked around; we just let one person lead with the others following behind, bobbing and weaving and trying not to hit or cut off people. It was overwhelming and unenjoyable at points in a way I've never felt (even with pretty significant crowds) at Disney World. 

We DID enjoy the things we did and saw. But I don't think I'll be in any hurry to return to Disneyland. It's just too compact and too packed. I think what's happening is that Halloween is just so popular, the crowd forecasters need to understand that people are just going to pack the parks regardless. Also, it looks like Sundays are less busy that weekdays, which feels counterintuitive. In case anyone else is planning a trip.

LEGOLAND was the perfect speed for Mal. We got to go in half an hour early because we were staying on property, and we did the dino coaster first... whoops. Mal was excited, but it was WAY too wild for him. We learned that he just can't do any rides where you feel pressure from changing/redirecting inertia. But we followed that up with a tame boat ride he loved so much, we ended up riding it three times. 

We were able to walk around most of the park in about 5 hours, and saw the rest that we missed the next night. It was pretty cool: I hadn't planned a second day at LEGOLAND, but when I bought my ticket, they were having a buy one/get one sale and since their Brick-or-Treat Monster Party isn't a separately-ticketed event, we went over for that. It was super chill, we rode a couple of things we hadn't seen or ridden before, and then Mal finished it up with the dino boat ride. We got so much candy, we'll probably take some home next week. We've been snacking up on it in the room.

Today, we went to Universal. We'd paid $30 to be able to go into Super Nintendo World an hour before the park opened. That was a super choice. After an hour, James was able to ride the three rides in the lower lot before the other visitors got down there. Mal and I rode "The Secret Life of Pets" a couple of times with no wait between. The early-entry ticket also gets you onto the studio back lot tour with no wait, but there wasn't much of a line when we got to that, anyway. There was when we left!

We'd made reservations at the Toadstool Cafe and had our first and last (so only!) sit-down meal in a theme park. Then James and I both got to ride Harry Potter very quickly through the single rider line. Mal rode "SLOP" (what he calls The Secret Life of Pets ride) with James once, then he and I went shopping while James rode HP. We left the park a bit before 3 PM and had done everything we wanted to do, except maybe the Simpson's ride. I didn't want to double our ticket price to pay for the Express Pass, and it wouldn't have been worth it.

LEGOLAND and Universal were busy enough, but we had comparatively chill days at both of those.

I do want to talk for a moment about the Single Rider lanes... What an amazing time-saver! Between Lightning Lane at Disney (where you pay $30 extra to be able to skip the main line one time for each ride) and single rider, we didn't wait more than about 15 minutes for any ride, except Rise of the Resistance, where a lot of the "line" is an immersive experience, anyway. If your party doesn't mind splitting up, it's so much faster than the standby line, especially if you don't have Lightning Lane. In fact, Radiator Springs Racers doesn't have a normal Lightning Lane: You have to pay about $25 PER PERSON for just that ONE ride if you want to skip the line. But we got to do it super fast (it was under 5 minutes from the time I got in line until I was sitting in a car) because of Single Rider.

All of this to say: I know how to strategize avoiding crowds and lines. But, holy cow, that did not work at the Disney parks. We had fun doing what we did, but the experiences left us worn out and threadbare. We did not feel as chewed up and spit out after our days at the other two parks. 

Just a brief FYI.

We've done other stuff on the trip, too. We went to the very informative and fun Museum of Making Music, we watched the sun set over the ocean, we have spent HOURS by different pools (today is the last day Mal can swim on this trip; our next places don't have pools), and have enjoyed each other.

Tomorrow, we head north. We'll get to a beach, then to a little Danish village, a National Park, and eventually the capital of the state! I think we'll be ready for a day of driving instead of walking miles and miles!

If you want to see vacation pictures, they're here.

Economy of Scale

We've been talking to Mal about how we're going to see a lot of things we'd like on our trip but that we just can't buy something everywhere we go.

James took him to Bricks and Minifigs last night and said Mal ended up building a $4 skeleton, but window-shopped a lot, saying, "Oh, that's way too expensive!" Or, "I know we can't spend $300, but for what you get, that's a real bargain!"

Last night, Mal asked me, "Just how much is this trip going to cost?" I asked him what he thought it would cost. He said, "$1200?" I told him it was a little bit more than that. He exclaimed his surprise at the astronomical sum. I reminded him that we've been saving for a year, and that's why we can still do it even though James isn't working.

Nine-Eleven, and looking back

Someone on the "Ask Old People" subreddit asked this morning: "What was the internet like during 9/11?" They were wondering whether people were on chat boards talking about it or looking for news. One response said that except for universities, people didn't use the internet much at that time. I had to divest them of that notion by pointing out that by September 11, 2001, I had been "blogging" for half a year. 

This made me curious about what I'd written regarding the event (which I downplayed a lot; I guess because I wasn't trying to be a news blogger but just talk about my own personal experiences). I looked, and here's some of it:

"I left work in a snit...

"Ken was already gone when I got home and I promptly managed to over-turn a McDonald's sack, spilling my half of the French fries (which Kaley was more than happy to clean up). After eating a no-longer-on-sale cheeseburger, I went out back to trim some severely over-grown and most likely dead shrubs.

"Having just talked to my sister about our husbands trying to work our part-time employment into the immediate post-delivery future, I was already starting to get defensive. Ken hasn't played the 'you have to; we can't afford this' card yet, but I could clearly envision the future conversation. Mowing down vast quantities of deer grass, I practiced my eventual breakdown: 'You agreed to this before we ever decided to have a baby!' Then I wondered if I was talking to Ken or to God. We involved God in our plans to have a child. So I started wondering where God was and why He wasn't just fixing this situation for us.

"Back and forth... I thought about my cousin who lost a baby earlier this week. I'm sure she'd gladly eat dirt if it meant she could hold her child. But that didn't make me feel much more fortunate. I've been healthy all of my life and through this pregnancy. I realize I take it for granted. I probably am being a brat. But I want Ken and me to be able to be COMPLETELY happy about the nearing delivery of our child instead of having to harp on how we're going to provide for her. And I was mad that all of our efforts seemed for naught and that God couldn't just intervene in the way I wanted him to so we could enjoy the rest of this pregnancy...

"You may remember a few months ago, I wrote that something had happened that I felt completely redefined our relationship... I wasn't sure if it was the hormones or if it really was a huge shift. Now I realize it was the latter. And, though it took some getting used to, it has completely changed my married life for the better.

"I decided to go finish the front yard, a considerably smaller task, then take a cool bath, and write... in my journal briefly before settling in to watch some TV before bed...

"Instead of indulging in a long bath, I took a quick, cool shower and headed into the computer room to relay the events of the evening. Mid-way through doing that, though, I happened to run across something that made me really mad at Ken. I mean furious. So I couldn't even finish what I was writing...

"I waited up for Ken. He got home a bit after 11:30, at which time I found out that the whole rampage-causing irritant was just a misunderstanding. We talked until a bit after midnight and then went to sleep.

"So, even though I did get up a couple of times during the night, I pretty much slept when I was in the bed.

"And after all of my histrionics yesterday, we get up this morning and see on the news that the Pentagon had been attacked by a hijacked airplane, then it cut back to coverage of the World Trade Towers... Suddenly makes my not-yet-serious concerns seem really petty.

"A special church service has been called for tonight; I'd imagine it's going to be a prayer session. So this evening, I really AM going to be thankful for my blessings while asking God to be with these peoples' families and the rescue workers."

Meh.

I went back and read through quite a bit of my first year (and then the 7th year) blogging. A couple of things:

1) My marriage was hard from basically the get-go. Ken floated the idea of separation or divorce when D was 1, but I rejected it because I didn't want to have to put D in daycare so I could work again, and because I'd already been divorced once. The stigma toward divorce was still very strong then, especially within the church.

2) I was a much more uptight and judgmental person two decades ago. I make myself tired. I can't read too much because it's so cringe-y and terrible. I'm sorry to anyone who read my original online journal.

 

A decade ago...

 James took this video of me on September 7, 2014 (and for the record, I can rotate videos now!):

I guess I was maybe having Braxton Hicks contractions? I don't remember this at all, but I do remember that we were still A FULL 2.5 WEEKS AWAY FROM DELIVERY.

I don't know whether you've been around long but for you newbies, I'll tell you that I was pregnant for 42 weeks and 6 days. The last month was just crazy. I kept going in to see the midwife and she'd look into my eyes and say, "You don't have 'the look' yet. You're not close." 

Anyhoo, I will be on vacation for Mal's birthday and might not have a chance to pontificate here about how the past decade has been one of the most challenging and delightful of my life. Having a kid in your 40s is no joke, and having a kid who is as emotionally complex as Mal at all is also quite the parenting honing adventure!

I'm pleased to say that Malcolm has changed from a constantly-crying baby to an easily-upset toddler and into an incredibly sensitive, clever, and fun-loving kid I'm so happy to have as the second child I never knew that I wanted.

Ha ha... I assumed these pictures would upload in chronological order but they did not! So enjoy some randomly-placed photos of my sweet almost-10-year-old!

Summertime Blues (instead of reds)

It has been 103 days since the onset of my most recent period. (Editor's note: Made it 108 days and started on our way out the door to a water park. Happy birthday to me!)

Lest you have the urge to start doing the menopause dance, allow me to share with you my experience over the past 3 summers:

In 2022, I stopped having a period after July 10, only to pick back up on November 2 (116 days). After that, my cycles were fairly regular (for me), about 22-40 days in length.

In 2023, I stopped after June 6 and picked back up on November 5 (153 days). The periods leading up to that were wild. In April, I had a 10-day period! In May, we were in Montreal and it was only three days... but like, still as much as the 10-day one. Mal and I were on public transit for hours sight-seeing, and it was not tidy but it was our last full day in town and I didn't want to cut anything short!

It was this day. Man, I am ready to go back!

This year, my last period before summer break was absolutely terrible. It was again short, maybe 2 days, but it was so much in such a short time frame that it was overwhelming. I had lots of things to do, but if that ever happens again, I'll just stay home. I couldn't keep up.

Will I beat last year's record? I hope so. If ya gotta bleed, you could do it in a worse place than Montreal, but I don't want to be dealing with that on our vacation next month! So hopefully we again make it to at least November before anything happens.

What I do notice is that each year so far, the period before the break backs up one month: July in 2022, June in 2023, and May this year. Wish me luck and all that.

Then again, I did have my thyroid removed so who knows if or how that might affect it. My thyroid was functioning normally before, and now things are slightly "hot" until we make sure my antibodies are gone and start dialing back the dose.

Regardless, wish me luck... This process is very annoying and I'd like to be done with it!

What a difference a decade and a half makes!

This morning, Mal wanted me to come sit with him while he woke up. I love to do that, but I'd already been up, walked, and made breakfast and I was ready to sit somewhere comfortable, which his bed is not (it's under a window, so there's nowhere to rest my back without the window pane cutting into my upper spine).

I asked if he'd sit on the couch with me instead, and he said it was too cold. So I got him a blanket, he covered up, and we snuggled for a bit.

After he was up and around a bit, I started to fold up the blanket to put it away. 

"I still need that! I'm a little chilly."

I suggested that he turn off the ceiling fan, which he did.

Now I'm going to interrupt this story to go back in time to the late aughts, then we will return to this morning.

When we were living in Sherman ("we" being D and me), we'd had a fellow homeschool family over for dinner. Their three kids and my one were alternately playing in D's room and hanging out with us adults. As their departure drew near, the dad went back to get his youngest, Rebekah, from D's room. Rebekah was on D's top bunk, which was very big and only about 2 feet from the ceiling.

Rebekah was talking to her dad over the side of the bunk and said, "Watch this!" She then proceeded to manually turn the fan, whose blades overlapped D's bed by several inches (we never turned the fan on when it was bedtime!). The dad started to reprimand her, then said, "Oh! Dust doesn't fall off of your fan blades." 

I didn't say anything, but the reason it didn't was that I dusted the fan blades every single week.

I dusted everything every single week.

Bookcases, end tables, the fireplace mantle, door frames, air conditioning vents, computers... I dusted once a week, every week.

Coming back to the present time, I have to confess that when I turned the fan off this morning, I was appalled by how much dust was on the blades! I cleaned it, and dust definitely DID sheet off of the blades. It was too much for the wipe to hold, and it all fell to the floor like giant dust-bunny snow.

Things have changed. 

At some point, I stopped my old cleaning routine where Monday was bathrooms/kitchen, Tuesday was dusting, Wednesday was vacuuming, Thursday was sweeping/mopping, and Friday was laundry and catch-up on anything else that needed to be done. 

At some point, I stopped having families over for dinner. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I would *love* for my house to be super clean. I enjoy looking at old pictures and seeing how tidy and spotless everything looked. But I don't have the will or energy anymore.

I don't have a kid who wants to help Swiffer anymore, either!

Also, I remember from the time always feeling "behind" in house-cleaning, like I couldn't keep up. Once, I expressed this frustration to my ex-husband and he said, "The house is never clean, so why are you stressed about it right now?"

I guess maybe I decided to stop worrying about it so much and just sit down and play on the Switch sometimes. I still want my house to be very clean as much as I ever did. I just don't feel like it's possible so I don't strive as much. And consequently, my house gets dusty. If you're ever over and it bothers you, you are more than welcome to fix it!

A (pre) Christmas Miracle!

Hiya, toots!

This summer in central Texas has so far been seasonal from the before-times of the late 2010s. It is just now consistently getting into the 100s during the day, whereas last year that started in May. We were saved from like 10 weeks of the blistering heat of the recent past, and I appreciate it!

We've had enough rain in the general are that the lake is 8 feet up (though it's still just under 40 feet low) in the past 2 weeks. 

Mal and I have been taking advantage of our PogoPass, glad that we paid for those before James got laid off. 

Last Sunday, Mal's friend was out of town so instead of meeting him like we always do, we went to Typhoon Texas. It was raining when we arrived, and there weren't a lot of people there. We were able to have the place practically to ourselves!

 

I got to use my awesome new shrug to protect my scar from sun exposure!

Then later in the week, we went to the LBJ Library. That one wasn't on the PogoPass last time we had it, so this was the first time Mal's visited. He loved it as much as I expected he would. Given his Five Nights at Freddy's obsession, the LBJ animatronic was one of his favorite parts.

We've gone to Indigo Play, Inflatable Wonderland, The Thinkery, James took Mal to Pump It Up Round Rock... we still need to get down to Wonder World to take the cave tour, and to San Antonio for the Witte and Zoo. Did I mention that I only paid $50 per pass? Just going to the water park and kids museum paid for it!

One down side to the great weather is that the mild temps and rain have super-charged the grass. I mowed on a Tuesday, and needed to do it again by Saturday. Then I made it until yesterday (Friday) and mowed a third time in under 2 weeks! I was thinking, "That's it! It's all going to go dormant now!" because we're heading into 100s every day and no rain in sight. But then this afternoon, it poured rain out of nowhere for an hour. Good. And bad. But mostly good. And also, I should be grateful for an upper body workout; pushing a giant battery up the hills of our back yard is not a joke (and, yes, it could be self-propelled but that drains the battery faster).

Mal's homeschool gymnastics class starts back at the end of next week, and his classes start back in just over 4 weeks. He's ready to get back into his schedule and so am I.

Of course, he'll miss a couple of weeks of everything when we go on his 10th birthday trip. Please send us your good vacation mojo because our travel is exactly as far out right now as it was in 2020 when we realized that Covid was going to cancel everything. And, yes, I got travel insurance this time! We were lucky to get back every single penny we'd paid 4 years ago, but I don't anticipate businesses doing that again. (Also, the CrowdStrike outage freaked me out about flight stuff; fortunately, for this trip, we're on Southwest.)

 

 

I used to be fun

I was sharing a funny old (14 years) photo with my family this week, and it reminded me of this old (30 years) song by Rockapella:

This song has always reminded me of someone specific in my life (from the picture that cracked me up) and it got me to thinking about something...

I used to be somewhat of a goof.

I had a reputation as someone who was funny, and in fact would often do unwise or immature things because they amused me.

I was never mean (except for maybe that one time I put toothpaste in a sausage for a specific person to eat, and if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't) and usually the joke was on me, but... It was kind of my "thing."

Remember that time at my 20th high school reunion when I had gone to the trouble of memorizing the entire dance scene from "You Can't Stop the Beat" in "Hairspray" the movie and I requested the song and did the dance all the way through even though no one joined me? (If you watch it all the way through... yes, I was getting tired at the end, but that floor was SLIPPERY. The fact that I didn't land the cartwheel was a great personal disappointment that stays with me to this day!)

Or like that time that a cold snap hit the Sher-Den area and when I was driving by the newish giant bust of Eisenhower, I thought, "He looks cold. He should have a scarf." I told several people about my idea until it landed with a talented seamstress, Juanita, who took YARDS of fabric and made a scarf (wisely with weighted ends so we could put it on and it would stay), which another friend, D, Juanita, and I all tossed on the former President in the dark of a chilly evening.

The talented aforementioned Randy Sedlacek took this shot a day or two later.
Stately AND warm, no?

I don't know. My habit is: I have a stupid, silly idea and after I have it, I just do it. It happens because my thinking something odd makes it a reality that there's no denying.

Or at least that used to be the case. 

What happened? 

I was married to someone I embarrassed a great deal with my exuberance, mischief, and general loudness. Now I'm married to someone who would absolutely revel in any silliness I might come up with, and I just... don't? Why?

When I was mowing the other day, I had the thought that my life used to be similar to a person at a funeral: I absolutely should not have been laughing, but it was a coping mechanism. And maybe now I'm just happy and don't have the highs and lows? 

Or like when I had an eating disorder and LIVED for vacations, when I let myself be free and eat whatever I wanted: I'd plan meals down to the menu item, and almost cry at every meal because everything was so rich and tasty. Now that I eat whatever I want to, I still enjoy food, but not like that. The scarcity is gone, and somehow that blunts the joy of "forbidden fruit," I guess.

Maybe this is just a natural outgrowth of maturing, and if that is the case, I HATE IT. I can extend my sincerest apologies to the target of my ill-conceived meat/toothpaste prank while also acknowledging that most of the time, my humorous impulses were a lot of fun for me and the people around me.

Can't think of a good way to wrap this up, so... Mal's up and I'm out. Miss me!

Spilling Some Tea (it's old, but it's still hot)

This morning, I remembered something that unlocked a deep resentment I'd forgotten about, and it is just another thing I look back on and wish I'd done differently.

First, I have MANY regrets about how I treated people, and I know I owe a lot of people apologies. If you're one of those people, please feel free to reach out to me. I am not reaching out to some folks because I don't want to reopen wounds that might have healed. But believe me, I know a lot of the junk from my life is my doing.

THIS EXAMPLE is not, and I regret so much that I did not stand up for myself at the time.

I filed for divorce on March 14, 2011. At the time, I was going to Sherman (TX) Bible Church. They found out almost immediately and pulled me off of a project I'd been working on for the Easter service. I had written a script and was supposed to be in the film for the weekend. The church said that they were giving me "time off to concentrate on your marriage" (they pulled my ex-husband off of his weekend camera service, too) but it was really because I had been too visible to be allowed to continue while going down the path of leaving my husband.

I'm going to address what I wish I'd done here in a moment, but I have to tell you the part that REALLY bothers me:

The short film that the team produced was based on something that really happened to the pastor of the church at the time (Dennis Henderson, who is currently serving in a support ministry role to his son's church, which just happens to be a few miles from here) who had been a police officer in Dallas and had sort of "befriended" a woman he'd arrested multiple times for prostitution. He and his family had welcomed her into their home and really extended the love of Christ to her. She kept telling him that she was going to leave her pimp and live a "clean" life, but in the end, she was murdered before she could get out.

Obviously, the Easter story didn't include the part about her killing. He wanted it to show that Christians could win people over just by loving them, no matter who the person was. Not a bad message, and honestly we should just extend love to people regardless of whether they ever believe in a god or not. But our task was to create a 15-minute video that would be shown at the Easter services.

At the time, the church did quite a lot of video production and live "skits" during church. I had been on arts planning teams for about a decade at this time. The arts minister; a lady I thought was my friend until my life got too "messy" for her; and I came up with an outline to the story we wanted to produce, and I went home and wrote it.

Not including listening to Dennis's story and collaborating with the arts team, I spent probably 20 hours at home working on and polishing up the script, then editing it after feedback.

Fast-forward to the part where I get kicked out of the process. They started filming it on a night when I was out of town with my kid at a gymnastics meet, anyway. I was texting with a friend who was involved in the filming and it sounded typical of shoots: fun. But not for me.

In the end, the project was completed and shown on Easter weekend, and people loved it. They made CDs of it available and gave them to the people who had been involved. Someone who was truly a friend, Randy Sedlacek, made sure that I got my copy, and he even invited me to the party the church was hosting to distribute the copies of the video. I couldn't bring myself to go, even though he encouraged me to ("you earned it!") because he's a solid guy. I'll always remember him fondly.

Here's the kicker: I found out that when people would ask Dennis who wrote the script, his answer was, "It wrote itself... it was a true story."

Now, if you're my mom and you're reading this, maybe close it out. Because I'm about to use a very un-Christian phrase: That dude can go fuck himself because what did he mean "the script wrote itself"?? Even if he DICTATED IT to someone, it had to be typed up and formatted. But he didn't. He gave us an idea and a partial story-line, and we turned it into something. Using my words. I was the conduit that took his words and stories and translated them into a film-able format. That is an art and a skill, and the absolute lack of respect for it and for me is astounding.

I'm literally shaking right now, just thinking about it. This guy who told me to stay in a doomed marriage because "what if Jesus is going to save your marriage tomorrow and you gave up one day too soon" wanted so badly for me to disappear when I didn't submit to the benevolent and wise male leadership of that church that he actually made me invisible. I wasn't someone who contributed heavily to the aesthetic appeal of that church for years. No. The stuff just wrote itself.

WHAT I DID: Nothing. I mean, I complained to close friends who were in the know. But at that point, I'd already been made to sign a thing that I wouldn't blog about what was going on between me and the church vis-à-vis my divorce. And I wanted them to realize that I was still the exact same person I'd always been and approve of me and accept me SO MUCH that I tried my absolute most sincerely to comply. To kowtow. To crawl through every single hoop they put in front of me to prove my worthiness of continued participation in the church. UGH. I did basically NOTHING. And they were still very angry with me about it.

WHAT I WISH I'D DONE: Revoked my permission for them to use my script. At that point, they probably already had it. But I wish I'd written certified letters to every member of leadership demanding that they write another script and not use mine because if they didn't want me involved, that was the only honorable thing to do. That they would use my work that was invisible while making sure my face didn't show up anywhere is vile. 

I don't think it would have changed anything, but I wish I'd expressed my anger and wish to be absolutely removed from everything. And then when they used it anyway, I wish I'd written about THAT. I wish I'd written about EVERYTHING in REAL TIME. I wish I'd had the strength to say,"If you don't like what I'm making public, then maybe don't do it in private."

They were a bunch of bullies who genuinely thought they were shepherding me in God's will. This is one reason that I will never EVER spiritually submit myself to another human as long as I live. It's one thing to make stupid decisions for yourself and get hurt, but to think that you can try to persuade someone else to made bad choices because YOU feel like there's some edict from above that it's your calling to enforce? No. I'm sorry. Not this lady. Never again.

First Summer Camp!

Yesterday, we dropped Mal off for his first week at summer camp! D went to almost-week-long gymnastics camps for several years, and to long-weekend worship camps. They were much younger than Mal when they started attending summer programs, but it just came up for Mal this year.

Honestly, I think Mal got the idea to do camp because of the SpongeBob show "Kamp Koral." I know this Texas over-water camp will be nothing like that, but I do hope he enjoys it! He initially picked a music camp in New Mexico which would have taken us 18 hours to reach! Eventually, I talked him into somewhere closer, knowing it would be SO HOT, but telling him that it would be a good idea to make sure he loved camp before he went so far away from home.

He was EXCITED to go and dumped us the second he got cleared from his lice check.

We oopsied it, and I'm glad we live so close because one of the counselors texted me and asked if we could drop by a pair of closed-toed shoes. I'd meant to pack Mal's sneakers, and that's the one thing I forgot! Well, that and headphones. Hopefully nothing is too loud, but if it is, that's someone else's problem for a few days.

In the meantime, I've been doing loads of relaxing stuff like power-washing our front walk, scrubbing both bathroom floors, cooking for the family, washing our linens, and getting my car inspected. You know, vacation stuff! And tomorrow, I'm getting a tooth fixed! (My old amalgam filling is cracking my tooth, so they're going to dig it out and put a cap on it.) I'm actually very glad that I was able to schedule that for when Mal's not here. I know he's fine when I'm out and about, but I still prefer to be in the vicinity unless James is able to be the "default parent" for a bit.

James and I might go to Rosa's tomorrow night for Taco Tuesday, though. We've meant to several times in the past and we just forget about it until after I've already eaten. Whoopsie. 

I don't have anything on the schedule for Wednesday yet, but Thursday, my sister and I are going up to see our parents. I don't think we've gone sans kids to visit them in years. Good times.

Okay, I'm going to indulge and give myself a "manicure" (nail stickers) now! 

Public Assistance

James does have a severance package, but it's taking a long time to process... apparently because in addition to the normal "review the paperwork and make sure you're not going to sue us" waiting period, since James is 50+, there's additional time to make sure he's not going to sue them for ageism. 

In the meantime (and, honestly, until James gets another job), we're tightening our belts and trying not to buy anything we don't need to buy. We've been really fortunate so far the past month...

First, Leander Independent School District has free lunches for kids. We've only gone twice, but one meal a week is still better than nothing. They also have breakfast, but that's only from 8-9 AM, which is way early for us! Mal actually tried nachos for the first time and found that he loves nacho cheese (not the spicy kind, of course). Granted, it's not Brussels sprouts, but any new food is good, as far as I'm concerned! He did try a carrot the other day when I was making dinner, and decided it's not for him. I was proud that he tried, though! This is much better than turning up his nose at food he thinks he's not going to enjoy.

Second, a woman in Lago Vista (who must be a saint) goes to south Austin every week and picks up a thousand pounds of food to distribute to at-risk households in Lago. She always ends up with a whole lot of food left over, and so she opens it up to the public on Friday afternoons. For the past two weeks, we've been able to get produce, bread, and some pantry items. It's hit or miss what will be available at all, and they hand out numbers then draw so the order is random. But the first week, James got big bags of walnuts and hazelnuts, dried split beans, rice, everything bagels, cheese bread, apples, a cantaloupe, a mango... And yesterday, we got probably $30 worth of bread (we were close to the end and no one had claimed a bunch of it; most of it is in the freezer), butter lettuce, apples, onions, cinnamon raisin bagels, corn on the cob, and some other stuff. Both weeks, I think we've been able to get enough food to feed a single adult for a week, assuming that adult had some pantry items like salt, seasonings, and maybe butter or oil. It's very kind of her, and I know takes up a lot of her time and effort. 

Waiting to get our shot at some gratis groceries!

Third, I've been getting stuff through the app "Too Good to Go," where businesses sell food they'd otherwise discard at the end of the business day. It tends to be about 1/3 of the price of what you'd pay retail, and we've really enjoyed it. We got two bags from Whole Foods prepared food department last weekend that had amazing sandwiches and salads... one of the ciabatta sandwiches was marked $13.99 and we only paid $10 per bag, where the sandwich was about 1/5 of the contents! We got some great bowls from Honest Mary's last week. I got 4 TacoDeli bean, potato, and cheese breakfast tacos from a coffee shop for $3.99; they're $3.50 a piece on the TacoDeli website!

We're not hard up just yet, but it's kind of fun putting my former necessity-based frugality into action!

Final (maybe? hopefully!) bit about the parathyroid/thyroid drama

Yesterday, I had my follow-up with my surgeon. She took the Steri-strips off of my incision site, and I had been thinking, "Yay! No more neck coverings!"

Well, two things: 1) I cannot let sun get on the scar at all, and I am only to use Aquaphor on it 3-4 times a day for the next two weeks. After that, I am to use silicone tape for 6-12 MONTHS to protect it. Yikes! Scar care is definitely a long game! 2) That area is SO SWOLLEN. As my regular endocrinologist said, "Your tissue is mad!" So for now, I'm wearing false collars and scarves. And it's hot. Let's all feel very sorry for me. Thank you.

And I have one more thing to add regarding the whole "getting diagnosed and surgically healed before I knew there was a problem" angle:

I followed up with my surgeon yesterday, and my endocrinologist today. Of course, everything that was taken out of my neck (one parathyroid, my entire thyroid, and several lymph nodes) was biopsied. The 9 millimeter adenoma on the left lobe of my thyroid was papillary thyroid cancer. Thing is, there was another adenoma, 4 mm, on the right lobe of my thyroid that no one had visualized (I had multiple ultrasounds, the nuclear Sestamibi scan, and an accompanying CAT scan that went all the way around to the back of my neck.

That smaller adenoma also tested positive as cancer.

The parathyroid and the lymph nodes all tested negative for cancer, and the surgeon said she wasn't sure exactly what happened, but that thyroid cancer is very slow-growing, and also maybe the inflammation from the Hashimoto's kind of created a "shell" around my thyroid so nothing spread.

So, there we go. I'm cancer-free before I even knew for sure that I had cancer. Kind of makes me glad my parathyroid started acting up, because otherwise, who knows when we would have found this.

Also, I'm grateful for my surgeon and her confidence that I needed to remove my entire thyroid, even though a support group I am in suggested getting a second opinion. I trusted her and she was right. She saved me another surgery down the road. This hasn't exactly been a nightmare, but it's not something I care to repeat.

I'll test for antibodies again in October. They should all be gone by then, assuming that there is no remaining cancer. If anything ever comes up in the future, I might have to get radioactive iodine treatment to kill any microscopic thyroid material left in my neck... but I'm planning for that not to happen, so I haven't even looked up what that involves. 

My remaining parathyroids appear to have stepped back up and are maintaining my calcium levels. I test that and my thyroid hormone levels in July.

Continue to feel very fortunate and grateful.

The Rich Get Richer

One last thing before we get off of the subject of my glandular heave-homent:

This whole thing started because we had insurance (have, until the end of this month). Since we have insurance that fully pays for annual check-ups, I've gotten bloodwork done every year for the past 5 years. There have been some things, like low whole blood, that required some looking into but were determined to be nothing. 

But in January 2023, I had high parathyroid hormone level as well as high calcium. Those two things both being elevated is an automatic diagnosis of hyperparathyroidism, and the only way to treat it is surgery. 

Getting referred to a good surgeon led to the suspicion and diagnosis of Hashimoto's disease, and all of that resulted in my having my thyroid and one parathyroid removed.

What had already happened was that I have experienced some bone loss (would be characterized as "osteopenia" if I were post-menopausal), and that I was frequently eliminating cloudy liquid as my poor little kidneys tried to flush the excess calcium out of my blood.

What could have happened was hypothyroidism, and any of several more advanced autoimmune disorders like Crohn's, Grave's, or lupus. I also could have had permanent nerve damage at my extremities due to wonky calcium levels. I could have fractured my hip. 

But I didn't.

We knew what was going on because I had access to adequate, thorough health care. Through James's work. Which he doesn't have now.

I went most of D's life without insurance and, consequently, we only went to the doctor's office when there was something overtly wrong. But in this case, if I'd waited until possible symptoms of thyroid disease had presented themselves, my body would have definitely been worse for the wear.

So I'm grateful.

I don't know what's going to happen in terms of our insurance after the COBRA stipend runs out. Tech employment is rough right now. But I do know that everyone deserves preventative care (in addition to acute care, obviously). Why is that a controversial ideal?

Recovery

First full day back home. I took a nap this morning from 10:00-10:30 but was otherwise pretty normal, energy-wise.

James filled you in pretty much... he just left out that I had a parathyroid gland removed, also. The surgeon said that when they took the left anterior parathyroid out, that my parathyroid hormone level dropped into the normal range, and my calcium dropped to below range but not zero. This means that my 3 remaining parathyroid glands appear to be functioning properly, even though they were dislocated from their former home (my thyroid, which James already told you I had removed).

I'm waiting to hit the Day Three wall (I've heard days 3-5/6 are the hardest in terms of recovery) but so far am feeling mostly normal, minimal pain in terms of having a sore throat, and though I walked much more slowly this morning that is typical, I did manage to make it 2.5 miles.

My follow-up with the endocrinology surgeon is a week from tomorrow, when I'll get my Steri-Strips removed. Until then, I'm camouflaging my neck because there's some blood and nobody wants to see that. But I can tell under the strips that the cut is tidy and should heal to almost invisible. Apparently, I have a "nice neck crease" where the incision will hide (read: wrinkles and fat). 

Probably my biggest struggle is going to be not to get into my head about the fact that I now require synthetic thyroid hormone to live. If we have some big societal breakdown or something that prevents the production and movement of medication, I'll literally shrivel up and die. So wish me luck, losers!

Super grateful for all of the help we had to make this week go more smoothly: 1) Thanks to Indeed for laying James off so he didn't have to rush back to work but was able to be a lot more involved in the minutiae of taking care of the house and taking care of me. 2) Gracias to my parents who took us out for dinner the night before my surgery, and then spent the night in a nearby hotel so they could be here at 6:45 AM to hang out with Mal while we went to the hospital. 3) Sincerest appreciation to Kristen, Mal's friend Kona's mom, who let Mal go home for a sleepover after Tuesday group. 4) And also danke to my sister for showing up the day after surgery to bring me back home, and for hanging out and visiting. (She ended up having a surprisingly full day when, after she finally returned home, there was a tornado in Temple and she and Ken and the boys went up to help Hannah and Aaron secure their apartment and start to clean up a bit. Everyone's safe, which is the important thing.)