The Fifth Anniversary (yes, of that, but that's not what I'm talking about)

Five years ago today, I put in my earbuds and went for a walk. I even blogged about it a few days later!

Ever since then, I've walked pretty much every single day for roughly 2.5 miles. In the beginning, I mentioned being legalistic about it. I got over that pretty quickly. There are days when I don't walk because I do weights and balance exercises at home (once every 7-10 days). There are days when I know I'm going to be walking a lot or getting other exercise that I don't make it a point to walk. There are days when I have an early appointment and don't have time.

But I'm guessing that about 98% of the time, I roll out of bed, throw on my shoes (and sometimes an extra pair of pants, gloves, a hat, and a coat... but maybe not this winter??), and take off. I listen to podcasts most of the time. Sometimes I talk on the phone with my parents or my sister. Very often, I'm back from my walk before anyone I know is even awake. This time of the year, that means it's dark for most of my walk.

I've seen some gorgeous things on these walks. Sunrises, flowers, wild animals (raccoon, skunk, fox, coyote, armadillo), feral cats, free-range dogs, amazing clouds, the construction of home after home... 

Sometimes it gets tedious, walking the same few miles over and over. But I've noticed that on the days I don't start that way, I feel less focused and settled.

I've walked well over 4000 miles on these morning treks. I've gone through 4 pair of sneakers. I've learned that having a good pair of shoes is the difference between the blisters I mentioned in the first post and not even thinking about my feet at all. Hard lesson for a cheapskate like me, but I do enjoy being able to get from here to there without limping.

I've also learned a lot from the podcasts I listen to, from American History Tellers to Reveal to Maintenance Phase to various Spanish-language podcasts. Sometimes I just need some entertainment and will put on Handsome or Selected Shorts. Other times I want to feel inspired, so I listen to The Moth or Story Corps. Occasionally my brain just wants to be alone with itself so I just listen to the birds and my feet crunching the gravel. 

I don't like to carry water, especially when it's cold, so I usually chew gum to keep my mouth from drying out. There are mornings when I take a red flashlight because there's no moon and we don't have streetlights, but I also don't want to contribute to light pollution. On the rare occasion, I'll stop by a convenience store to see if any of their energy drinks are on sale and might pick up a couple of those.

I've walked the dry lake bed. I've gingerly made my way down steep rocky trails I'm not sure how they got there. I've come upon homeless people sleeping in a tent in the greenbelt or with just a blanket on a sidewalk near the bus stop. I've had to stop to catch my breath on a hill, then realized months later that it's not as challenging anymore. 

Another thing I've done is that everywhere we've traveled since January 6, 2021 (yes, that January 6), I've looked at Google Maps to plan where I'll walk if the occasion arises. I've walked all around Temple, where my parents live. I've walked through Wickenburg when we've visited James's mom. I've walked from a hotel to a nature preserve in the dark to watch the sunrise in Sonora, Texas, on a road trip. I walked the liminal underground passages in downtown Oklahoma City. I even broke tradition once and rented a bike in Montreal to bike across the Jacques Cartier Bridge to Île St. Helene, Île Notre Dame, and across to Habitat 67.

This kind of movement has become a priority to me for both my mental health and for the longevity of my mobility (hopefully). And often, for the sheer joy of seeing a bunch of vultures staring at me from their perches in the trees 40 feet above me in the Canyonlands Trail.

Happy anniversary to me! (But not to anyone involved in that other thing that happened on the same day this good habit started.)

Welcome to the VA!

It's been a year since we lost our insurance, and James hasn't had a physical in much longer than that.

The other day, I decided to do him a solid and apply to the Veteran's Administration for healthcare. It wasn't a difficult process, and we received a communication today that assured James that the VA was diligently trying to set up his initial appointment.

There was a phone number for him to call, which was listed as: 1-800-4231-2111.

So.

We were able to Google it and there was just an extra "1" in what should have been the three-digit middle number. James called using my phone because that's where the clickable Google phone number was.

An hour into the call, James came in to me panicked because someone had answered the phone but couldn't hear James. We fixed that, James left again, and then came back a few minutes later.

Apparently the guy had told James that his chart was empty and they needed to fill out some more information so we could make an appointment. Then he put James on a hold that seemed to be the same queue James had been in before.

I was doing something mindless and told James to just leave the phone by me. About 15 minutes later, someone finally answered. I explained what was happening, and they said they needed to transfer me to the person who could set the appointment.

James came back in as the person was answering (that was only a few seconds, so huzzah!) and said he needed to make an appointment. Guess what?

The local clinic had closed at 4:00 PM (it was 4:02 PM at this moment) so we'd need to call back tomorrow. WE HAD CALLED AT 2:41 PM.

I asked for a direct number, and she said that they don't have one; you have to call the main number. She said you can also just walk in and make an appointment on site, which might be easier? That seems bonkers to me.

James tried to explain about the wrongly-rendered phone number but she didn't seem to understand what he was trying to say, as she explained something about how recently the extensions had changed. She was fine. She was trying. But this process was ridiculous.

Wish us luck for tomorrow.

UPDATE: I got them on the phone the next day, and they told us that James has to walk into the clinic to make an appointment because they just don't answer the phone. We're off to a great start!

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.

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!

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.

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.)

One Way to Spend a Day

Do you have periods? Do you hate them with a burning passion? Do you wish you could STOP having them? Have you, in fact, stopped having them as often and are super excited that you're about to be done with them forever? Do you think that there couldn't possibly be anything worse or more demoralizing than having to deal with bloody bodily fluids for several days per month?

Good news! There's something that is WORSE! It is so dehumanizing and challenging that it will push you to the brink of depression in a mere 24 hours!

I can tell: You're chomping at the bit. You're ready to hear what this miracle torture is. Well, great! I'll tell you.

It's called a 24-hour urine test. And if you're a lady and you go to Quest Diagnostics, they'll just hand you the same thing that I assume they hand a man: a container that looks vaguely like what you keep in the trunk of your car for in case you run out of gasoline and need to walk to a gas station and bring a half-gallon of gasoline back with you.

No instructions.

No way to collect the sample at all except to figure out how to eliminate into a small circle on a large jug that you will have to lower into the toilet, resulting in your having to clean the toilet, around the toilet, and the jug EVERY TIME YOU GO TO THE RESTROOM.

______________

I started this blog post 2 weeks ago, just after I'd done this. It sucked. It also confirmed that I have hyperparathyroidism, so I'm going in for a throat ultrasound and a bone density scan this afternoon. Fun times. Even the surgery to remove any offending parathyroid glands would be better than that stupid urine test. Also, if I had to choose between doing that 24-hour urine test or colonoscopy prep, I'd pick the colonoscopy prep every time.

Furthermore, I went 155 days without a period and started up again the day before we left for Phoenix last week. Good times. It was 118 days last year; wonder what I'll get up to next year or the year after before finding myself pregnant at the age of 62.

The Wonders of Modern Medicine (and TMI, maybe?)

A few years ago, I'd read more than one study showing that there was a correlation between people who were on an antiviral like Acyclovir to treat herpes and a lower incidence of Alzheimer's development. There wasn't and still isn't a clear answer as to whether this is at all causal, but it was of interest to me for two reasons: 1) I have a family history of Alzheimer's, and 2) at the time, almost every month, toward the end of my cycle, I would get a cold sore.

If you've never had a cold sore (or fever blister or whatever colloquialism you use for it) before, then... well, I guess good for you, you smarmy devil. But they initially tingle, then hurt like the dickens for 3 days, then seep for a couple of days, then dry up and scab over, then take a good week to heal. So we're looking at 2-3 weeks of dealing with this. Every month or couple of months. I HATED IT.

Sometimes I didn't get one. Sometimes, I'd get more than one (like the time I spent a whole day on a boat on Lake Mead and got super sunburned then ended up with at least 5 cold sores all around my mouth). Once or twice, it tried to come up INSIDE OF MY NOSTRIL.

As soon as I'd feel it coming, I'd apply Abreva topically and swallow a ton of Lysine. Sometimes, I'd stop it in its tracks. Many times, it didn't matter what I did. It was going to break out.

My doctor had no problem putting me on acyclovir. Ever since then, it's been perfect. I hadn't had a cold sore in years. I'd had a couple of instances where I'd felt the tingling, but then between the preventative, medicine, and supplement, we'd stop it!

Until last month.

Ugh.

As I've mentioned, my body is vaguely trying to stop having menstrual cycles. I went about 120 days last year, then had regular periods for three months. This past month, I didn't have a period. But when it got to what would have been my last day if I had, I started feeling that tingle. I've since gotten topical Lysine, which is a lot cheaper than Abreva and as effective, if not more. Except this time, all efforts were impotent. I got a stinking cold sore and it reminded me of how much I appreciate how effective the anti-viral has been for the past few years.

A further complication here is that I've stopped wearing make-up in the past year. I didn't have any concealer, so it was just out there, doing its disgusting thing (I do wear tinted lip balm and sometimes eye-liner). 

This was about a week into it, when it had started crusting over.
I did break out the left-over powder to try to even out the screaming red color.

Here's the thing I hate the most about it: It's all I can think about when I have one. First, it just hurts so badly. Then I know how messed up it looks, and sometimes I realize that part of the dry skin or scab has started peeling off, and then I wonder how long it's been that way. It's just such a dang focus and I despise that it takes up that much mental space for me.

The moral of this story is maybe that I'm super vain, maybe? Or is it that life is demonstratively better when you can afford or have offered to you "good" insurance that allows you to see doctors for non-life-threatening conditions. My quality of life is improved so much just being on maintenance meds for asthma and cold sores. Using my inhaler once every other month instead of 6 times a day is like a miracle. Being super bent out of shape about the first cold sore in 3 years instead of being super pissed that it's happening for the eighth time in a year is the same. I feel like that sort of peace of mind and care should be equally available to everyone, and not just lucky and/or "rich" folks. 

The Change (and no, I don't mean the SCC song)

In case you weren't deep in evangelical christianity in the early 2000s, the title is a reference to this. (I can't listen to much from these days without cringing, but this one aged okay.)

Now back to our regular programming.

We've established that I'm old. Like half a century old.

I have this very vivid memory from when I was a quarter century old:

I was dating a guy who was two decades my senior. He had this very intensive facial regimen he'd do every morning and night, and it had never occurred to me to do anything like that. Like, I washed my face, but when he cleansed, he left the wash on for a long time so it could "work." Then he'd moisturize. And do stuff for his crow's feet. It was the first and basically only time in my life that I started wondering, "Should I be doing something to keep from looking old?"

The answer I gave myself was "no," and I never looked back.

However, the pandemic did all of us who mostly wore make-up passively a big favor in that it normalized more fresh faces with minimal makeup. I've basically decided to buy into the conventional "pack light" wisdom that all I need is some eyeliner (I know, they say mascara but I can't wear that because it irritates my eyes... yes, even the hypo-allergenic stuff) and tinted lip balm.

My neighbor tells me that I'm lucky because I have "some natural color," whereas she's so pallid that when she was a small child, her mother wouldn't let her wear certain colors because she looked dead (also, she's in her mid-70s, so it was a different time).

I found a couple of similar pictures of myself. One is from today and one is from 12 years ago. I was mostly comparing a full face of makeup (the older picture) to me today. I have never worn heavy make-up, but in the picture from my 30s, I'm wearing powder, lipstick, eyeliner, eye shadow, and blush. Today, I'm only wearing eyeliner and lip balm. Oh, also, I don't color my hair anymore.

And, yes, I can see that I have some wrinkles around my eyes now that I didn't used to have. Also, my neck is probably wrinklier. However, I don't think the "even less make-up" takes much away.

The one concern I had is that I have a pretty high forehead (or what the kids called "five-head" a few years ago) that tends toward shininess. I'm using CeraVe Foaming Cleanser Bar in the morning and evening, and then moisturizing with an alleged "mattifying" lotion at night. I haven't noticed any matte effect, and my forehead is still glistens. I did get some oil-absorbing sheets... and I don't think it's oily. I don't know. I just glow, I suppose.

Anyway, something interesting has happened since I started washing my face twice a day instead of once and also moisturizing: My skin has cleared up. I mean, I've been fortunate to have pretty good skin, anyway, but had some bumps and just assumed that was what my skin was doing as I head into menopause. Turns out, maybe my face is tired after 35 years of having power all over almost every single day. 

Since I started drinking more water about a year ago (after GERD was massively negatively impacting my life so I gave up carbonated drinks for the most part), and have now started trying to "pack light" in my make-up life, I thought a couple of other things might be fun.

My feet have always been cracked and dry, and my mom has been on me most of my life to use lotion. It's always felt overwhelming to me, taking time to do that. I don't know why. I'm just not super fussy about my personal maintenance? Anyway, I've started doing that once or twice a day. The bottom of my feet will be okay for several hours, then it's a desert again. Will it ever stay better longer? Who knows. Will I tire of this and go back to having funky feet? Probably. Still, I always love a good experiment.

Oh, the other thing I decided to do was to stop biting my nails. I have always done it, and I don't care that I do it. But as long as I'm changing up my routine, I figured I'd throw that in, as well.

Finally, to address "the change" thing... For those keeping score, my current cycle has been 83 days. I've been fairly regular since I had D (and before that, I was on The Pill for 12 years, so it was like a clock), but in the past year, it's been slightly less predictable. Still 26-41 days. Once, it was 46 days, and then I was treated to 9 days of... um... fun? as a reward. No, thanks. This is definitely the longest by far.

I'm hoping maybe I pre-paid for this with all of the issues I had in my young adulthood and I'll be able to skate through to menopause without any major hot flashes or life upheavals. I have definitely noticed a change in my body shape, as explained in this paper, the summary of which is: "[G]oing through the menopause does not cause a woman to gain weight. However, the hormonal changes at the menopause are associated with a change in the the way that fat is distributed, leading to more belly (abdominal) fat."

Fortunately, I knew that was coming, so I was ready. And it's not even a big deal.

I've been walking at least a couple of miles a day for 19 months now, and have recently started breaking that up with doing core training every few days instead. I already see how my knees sometimes feel like they're weaker, so I'm doing lunges to give them more of a challenge. And when I started doing lunges, I realize that since I haven't done them in a long time, my balance was off a bit. So I'm also doing a few balance exercises to try to maintain as much mobility and agility as possible. 

Injuring my back ten years ago showed me what a literal pain in the butt just plain existence can be when you're not at 100%, so I hope to put any falls or breaks off for as long as possible!

Okay, now that you know way too much about me, I'm ready to go to bed.

Have a good rest of your weekend, everybody!

More of the Same

A few mights ago, Mal was eating Doritos right before bedtime. When he was done, it was time to brush his teeth; he complained that a chip was stuck in his tooth. A bit later, when they were done, James told me he couldn't see the chip. Mal said it was still bothering him. My extreme myopia involves not only very weak far-out vision, but extremely clear close-in vision. I pulled Mal into the light to look... and it wasn't a chip. The second of his four metal caps had a hole in it, but unlike the first one, it didn't fall out. It was just sitting open like someone had opened up a tin can by stabbing it repeatedly with a dull knife.

Since it was midnight, I knew we weren't doing anything that night, but he definitely had sharp edges and wouldn't be able to sleep with it like that. So I did something I am not recommending to anyone because it's stupid, but I've done it to myself on my natural teeth and it was pretty effective: I got a glass nail file and started smoothing out the edges. I was able to make some progress, and asked Mal if he could live with it. "No." So I did some more, and also pushed down the part that had pulled back, hoping it might rest in the natural valley of the molar. Can you live with it like this? "No." Finally, I asked Mal to bite down. He did, then said, "That was a clean bite!"

Whew!

THEN two days later. he just didn't poop. The next day (yesterday), either. Understand this: Every single day since late May, James and/or I have sat in the restroom with Mal for at least 20 minutes, and up to an hour and a half. Every single day. Reminding him to push. Chatting. Encouraging. Keeping him focused. And this is after his never ever in his life ever just saying, "I need to go poop!" and doing it. We cannot take a mental break from this. We can't give him a day off of trying so hard. We can't stop trying so hard. We simply cannot relax because even with our vigilance, his body just decides to stop moving every few weeks.

Yes, I know some of this might be because he just doesn't know or doesn't pay attention to cues. It might be that he's just immature in that way. But it's such a freaking chore, and it makes me both angry that I have a 6-year-old who has literally never wiped himself, and also in complete awe of parents who have kids with actual chronic health issues.

We don't want him to end up like this poor Texas kid from a millennium ago, though, so on we plod. He still gets Mirilax every day. When the flow starts winding down, I move to PediaLax (the Equate brand is NOT watermelon-flavored, though it purports to be; Mal says it's mint and he can barely down it... it's just as effective, though, and it's all that Walmart had, so... sigh). We've learned that 2 PediaLax twice over a 24-hour period seems to work pretty effectively. ExLax doesn't do a dang thing, though he enjoys taking them. Well, it does give him a stomach ache. No positive results, though. And I'm trying to avoid the magnesium citrate, which he's now taken FOUR TIMES this year. That's gotta be rough on the old GI tract.

I've mentioned this, but I'll reiterate: So many things are SO DIFFICULT with Mal. Why are his teeth crap? And why then did we choose a dentist whose work is crap? And why can't he just crap? CRAP.

That said, the other day we came in from an errand and Mal was chatting with me. It took me back to not too long ago, when every time we came in from a trip out, Mal was in tears because he just did not deal well with transitions. I'd picture our peaceful home, D enjoying having the bedroom door open and James napping or working quietly... then this aural storm taking over. Every single time. 

I'm trying to remember that a lot of the hard things we dealt with early on that have improved over time. Surely this stuff will, too? 

Anyway, here's a really cute picture of this really awesome little kid... 

The Hottest Month... Or Maybe the 2nd Hottest Month

It's been a couple of weeks, hasn't it?

Cases of the coronavirus are spiking around here, so we're mostly just staying in and trying to keep cool. We're walking a few nights a week, but it's usually around 8:30-9 PM because even though it's still in the 90s then, not having the raging sun blazing down helps a lot.

The city of Austin is on watering restrictions, and I don't actually know whether we are or not, but I'm watering our two apple trees and the fig tree every night, because I really don't want them to die. One of the apple trees is pretty new; the other one made it through last winter, but it certainly didn't seem to have much extra "oomph" right before spring, so I don't want to risk losing that one like we did its original partner. The fig tree is the newest, I believe. And I'm also watering the bushes I planted a couple of years ago that are just now starting to bounce back from the shock of being transplanted. At least we don't have a lawn to irrigate, so you're welcome, environment.

Speaking of the environment, one of the things my brain has been doing since we've been reduced to hanging out with all the same people all of the time is thinking about what kind of house I'd want if I could design and have built my own place. And since we have an extra lot in the back, we could conceivably do it... in a few years, assuming the economy doesn't tank much harder and the economic recovery doesn't stall out. In other words, there are too many variables right now, but James and I have been discussing what we've learned from our previous living arrangements and what we'd do if we could just start over from scratch.

I say that, but, actually, if we could do ANYTHING we wanted, we'd probably go somewhere that we could build at least a partially-submerged sand bag or straw bale house or an Earthship or something like that. Where we live, as close to the lake as we are, and with how chock full of limestone our ground is, using an in-ground home as a cooling measure would probably be a bad idea. Heck, it's a toss-up if many lots around here (including ours!) can house a septic system.

Anyway, in the next few years, as D decides what to do in terms of living arrangements and working and whatnot, we might try to build on the land we already have and sell this, downsizing to a cheaper home that has been designed especially for us. We'll see.

On the Mal front, it's been... something. We went through a full week and a half of trying to get some advice from the doctor's office, because after the magnesium citrate (Mal was SUCH a trooper!) he just stopped going again, and we were right back where we started. I contacted the office about five times over ten days before saying, "It's been three weeks since he's had a bowel movement, and so just never mind. I'm going to figure it out myself." After that temper tantrum, I contacted Mal's pediatrician to tell HIM what all was happening. I was the maddest because Mal had been doing everything the doctor told him to do, and I felt like, whereas we'd made some progress the few days he was taking the magnesium citrate, in the weeks following, he'd probably just gone right back to where he'd been before.

Mal's doctor reached out to the gastroenterologist, whose office contacted me almost immediately. Apparently, the first week I'd messaged them, the doctor had been out of the office (and no one else can figure out a plan??), and he apologized profusely for taking several days to get back to me when he'd returned. Funnily, he recommended using ExLax 1-2 times a day for two weeks, and I'd just bought ExLax the day before, after I'd told them I'd do whatever I had to do.

Well... the ExLax didn't really do anything except make Mal's stomach hurt. The doctor had also mentioned a suppository, which I told Mal we might have to try. He was horrified. He insisted that he couldn't deal with that, so I asked him if he'd rather try the magnesium citrate again. It had been 3 weeks since the first round, and maybe he'd forgotten how much he hated it, so he said okay to that.

This time, he drank the whole 10-ounce bottle in 24 hours instead of three days. And guess what? NOTHING. So, sadly, we had to try a suppository. It worked in clearing a bunch of stuff out. But guess what else? 24 hours later, he wasn't going again; but he was leaking again.

SO... I was looking at some stuff online and saw for the first time a couple of massages recommended for constipation relief. Couldn't hurt to try, right? On Tuesday, July 14, I slathered Mal's belly with coconut oil, which he did not like, and massaged it for ten minutes. I did it the next morning, too, without the oil. He said it was actually a lot more comfortable WITH it, so later in the day, when we did it again, we went back to using coconut oil.

Mal didn't have a bowl movement from Saturday through Wednesday, and Wednesday afternoon, I told him he might have to be resigned to another suppository to help him clear some more stuff out. But then... he went!

This might be correlation rather than causation, but we've been doing two ten-minute massages per day, and he's had some action every day so far. We're continuing to put Miralax in a couple of drinks per day, but otherwise, it's just the massage.

I read an article recently that said it can take months or even up to a year to recover from encopresis (that link is one of the best articles I've read about the condition, if you're interested... the part about parenting advice certainly rings true!), so I think that my frustration earlier this week was more that in my real life, I'm an "it's broken; let's fix it pronto!" kind of person. But in medical stuff, I'm not a huge interventionist. I tend to think that a cold will pass, an ache will probably wear off, a fever will break... and I give it time. I just need to do that with this. If twice-daily hang-outs for massages and sitting with Mal in the bathroom three times a day are what it takes, okay.

There was one time this weekend when, with a 48-hour period, Mal had had 3 doses of ExLax, a bottle of magnesium citrate, AND a suppository. I want to give his system a chance to relax. And this seems to be helping.

Seeing a Specialist

Last night was not a great night.

Mal has been on Miralax (between 2 and 4 servings a day) since we went to the doctor back in May. It was hopeful at first, as he was going pretty regularly for about a week. Then it dwindled down and by early last week, we were down to maybe once a week. I tried reducing the Miralax when things got too runny, and it would stop. But we weren't loving the frequent seepage. And his belly is still bloated.

I sent Mal's doctor an email asking what we should do. He said to keep with the Miralax and if he hadn't gone in a week AND was uncomfortable, to try a suppository or enema. He also referred us to a pediatric gastroenterologist.

If you know Mal at all, you know that an enema is just not going to happen unless he's medically sedated, so instead I purchased a pediatric saline laxative (no stimulant). He took three doses Sunday, spaced about an hour apart, because I was giving it time to work. Very late in the day, he did go an impressive amount. But then it was back to nothing substantial, just lots of dribbles and cleaning of underpants.

Last night... last night was as bad as it's been. Mal went through 20 pair of underwear yesterday. He doesn't own that many underpants, so I did laundry. Twice. I also had to clean both toilets, mop the master bathroom floor, and wash several towels (we had him carry around to sit on) and his bedspread. I was exhausted, and I felt so bad for him. He'd want to play with me, but I'd notice that his pants were dirty and we'd have to go clean him up. Over and over. Every 10-15 minutes toward the end of the day.

I don't know what I would have done if we hadn't had the appointment today. We'd initially scheduled it for July 12, but got on a waiting list and had today's slot open up. I was ready to do it, but also had some anxiety. We know Mal's GP. He's a neat guy, very respectful of both of my kids, and really listens and tries to intervene in the least invasive way, with nary a hint of parent-shaming (like the "how did we get here?" kind of thing that makes you feel like, deep down, anything wrong with your kid is ultimately something you've let happen). But this is a new person, and... it's always a crapshoot with new providers.

Mal wasn't excited about getting up early this morning. "I'm having such a good time being asleep!" Same, little dude. We drove about half an hour to Round Rock, and when we arrived at the Baylor Scott and White complex, I realized that I wasn't sure which building was our target and... I'd left my phone at home.

We pulled in at one building and asked the gentleman wh was doing the COVID screening. He said we were in the wrong building, and pointed the right building out to us. We drove a short way and got there in plenty of time. We headed to the 3rd floor (something I remembered from the phone call where we set an appointment) and... it was also the wrong building. The building we were supposed to be in was actually across the street, separate from the hospital complex.

Eventually, we got there, only a few minutes late. One of the benefits of typically being chronically early. We were called right in. The nurse who did the intake was great. When Mal balked at having his blood pressure taken, she just waved it off and said, "Skip it! It's fine."

While we waited, Mal admired a photo of a bunny on the wall, and he wanted me to get a picture of him with it.

Then the doctor came in. He was much younger than he looks in his official photo online. He asked Mal, "Do you know what kind of doctor I am? I am a poop doctor. Hey, someone has to be a poop doctor. There's a pee doctor. There's an ear doctor. And I'm an expert on poop."

He talked about Mal's shirt and asked if he'd been to the beach. When I told him we'd been to the Gulf shore like Galveston and Port Aransas, which some people say isn't actually the beach, he said, "It can't all be Hawaii, right?" Then Mal said, "I did go to a beach once at Disney World!" Disney's Polynesian Resort has a beautiful sand beach. It might not be natural, but it's probably the prettiest beach he's ever visited.

The doctor also mentioned having a son a couple of years older than Mal, who had hair just about as long as his until he was 6 or so. He said his son was often complimented with, "What a beautiful girl" and that he got good at just pronouncing that he was a boy.

This is a lot of chit-chat to be allowed by a busy specialist. It helped Malcolm calm down significantly.

We looked again at the x-ray Mal had taken last month, and one thing this doctor pointed out was that Mal's colon has actually lengthened to compensate for the fullness. Then the doctor wanted Mal to get up on the exam table so he could feel Mal's belly. Malcolm did NOT want to do this, and started to whimper and insist that wasn't happening.

The doctor came and squatted in front of Mal's chair and asked, "Right now, what is it that you're afraid of?"

When Mal couldn't/wouldn't answer, the doctor said, "I just need to feel your belly to see if you've eaten any tigers or monkeys. Have you eaten a monkey?"

Mal said, "I don't eat monkeys!" As Mal laughed, the doctor felt around pretty deeply into Mal's gut. The doctor kept saying silly stuff, Mal giggled, and then at one point, tried to say "stop it; that hurts," but it wasn't completely intelligible. So the doctor said, "A turkey? There's a turkey in there?" Mal corrected him, "No, I don't eat turkeys! Just chickens!" And by then, the exam was over.

So guess what? Mal's still full of poo.

The doctor explained to him that the next thing we do is dependent on him, because no one is in charge of Mal's body but himself. I can ask him to go to the bathroom but I can't MAKE him. So, if this is going to work, Mal has to buy in. He looked at me and said, "Frankly, this can work or not. He's only 5. I have 8 and 9 year olds in here crying, begging me to help them, willing to do ANYTHING to fix the problem." He explained that this is very common, and mores with boys than girls, because boys are just busy and don't want to go. Then they get constipated and it hurts, so that is an encouragement NEVER to do that again, and it leads to what we have now. He told Mal it wasn't his fault, and that it made perfect sense that if he'd decided when he was younger to hold it instead of getting hurt, that was a logical decision for a little kid. But now...

So the doctor told me to get magnesium citrate and have Mal drink a third of the bottle every day for three days. Then he told Mal that, since his rectum was stretched out and the nerves are basically "turned off" and can't tell him when he NEEDS to go (if it always feels like you need to, that becomes your baseline, and your body stops "telling" you), that after each meal, he needs to sit on the toilet for five minutes and push, whether he feels like it or not.

The doctor also recommended maybe some kind of point system, like one star for sitting and two stars if he actually goes. We decided that we'd put a sticker on a calendar every time he does this, sitting and pushing for 5 minutes after each meal, and as long as he has 3 stickers for every day between now and his follow-up next month, that on the way home, I'll stop at Best Buy and get him Super Mario Maker 2, a game he has wanted for months and that I think he'll find very frustrating so have so far avoided purchasing.

Mal was down.

It took a couple of hours to get the liquid cold enough for Mal to drink, so we didn't start it today. We'll start in the morning, and if not earlier than Monday, by then Mal should start emptying out. THEN we go back to Miralax just to keep it soft so he will be encouraged to go. Apparently Miralax draws water into the colon, and it softens new stool but doesn't do anything about the rocks Mal already has built up in there. So we have to blow him out and start over.

Hopefully this works; if not, he'll give me some other things to do next month.

One thing he said we should absolutely do is eliminate dairy. He said it is way too constipating to be worth it, and that Mal definitely does not need cow's milk. This is going to be a chore, because that's like 1/4 of his diet: milk, yogurt, ice cream, string cheese. However, I did go right out and buy SO Delicious ice cream in vanilla and chocolate, and some SO Delicious ice cream sandwiches. Mal has eaten one of those so far and liked it. I am not going to try to give him the oat milk plain, but will try to use it tomorrow when we get our grocery delivery, which has his favorite cereal.

I was noticing as we came home how hopeful I felt. I did last month, though, too. I can't imagine the exhaustion of seeing a light at the end of the tunnel and then disappointment over and over again that parents with children who have chronic health conditions must feel. I do hope that Mal will clear out and we can start over with some better toileting habits. He's never been 100% on this, and it's been a long three years!

I reduced my consumption of artificial sweeteners, caramel color, and caffeine; and increased my intake of water. You won't believe what happened!

Hey-o! A few weeks ago (or a few months? maybe 10 or 12 years? who knows, at this point), I mentioned that I was cutting back on my drinking of diet cola, specifically. Since whenever that was, I have drank both less diet cola and more water. Before, I was drinking either diet cola or diet Mt. Dew varieties (we have a Sodastream, and they call theirs "Fountain Mist") all day every day. No water. Because it's gross.

When we got the Ozarka delivery service, and the water is pristine and ice-cold, it was palatable enough that I decided I could try to drink more sad, tasteless water... only less sad and more tasteless (in a good way).

While I long ago made my peace with caffeine and artificial sweeteners, I have read enough about caramel color to make me want to try to cut that down. So I did.

These days, I usually drink some of the Diet Fountain Mist for "breakfast," as some people drink coffee for that initial wake-up boost of caffeine. Even the 4-8 ounces of soda I drink there has less caffeine than a cup of coffee. And usually that's it, unless I'm lagging at that 2-4 PM stretch, in which case I'll have a booster to get over the hump.

I am otherwise alternating between clear diet soda like Sprite (Lemon-Lime in Sodastream-speak) or uber-dyed beverages like Powerade Zero and our magical water cooler water.

Whereas, in the past, I drank literally NO water unless I was mowing the yard (which I haven't done fully in more than two years), now I'm drinking probably 20-30 ounces per day.

I don't have exact measures because I have long since given up tracking precisely anything that goes into my cake-hole, because disordered eating sucks, and, honestly, logging everything that passes your lips, even if it's not compulsive, also sucks... and becomes compulsive. I'd rather be free.

Anyhoo...

So basically: Caffeinated soda, water, caffeine-free beverage, water, caffeine-free beverage, and then maybe another water/no caffeine drink, depending on how long the day is and how thirsty I am; and perhaps another shot of caffeine in there. That's from drinking all caffeine, all the time.

Do you want to know what this has done to my overall, day-to-day well-being and health? Good! Because I'm going to tell you:

The increase of water and decrease of things like caffeine, artificial sweeteners, and caramel color has produced no change in my appetite, either way. It does not affect my level of energy. It has not weakened nor strengthened my sweet tooth. My weight (according to clothes and the mirror, since I don't have a scale) has stayed the same. I am sleeping no better or worse. I do not feel any different (since I got over the mild headaches at first.. which I'm sure would be worse if I'd eliminated caffeine entirely).

A lot of times, people make changes to their diets, then go off on how they have a new lease on life. Listen, if you want to cut out sugar, you do you. But I think that a couple of things play into people's drastic wellness changes when they make a sweeping change in their diet: 1) They EXPECT results, so they experience them (placebo affect, and its negative Nelly cousin, the nocebo effect -- see also "When we let my kid play on the iPad, he acts AWFUL"). 2) When someone makes a big diet change, they're probably also increasing their exercise, paying closer attention to their sleep hygiene, etc. (For a negative example of this, please miss that "documentary" "Supersize Me" where the guy not only ate McDonald's for every meal, but he also forced himself to eat every single bite of everything he bought, AND he stopped working out entirely, even though he'd been an athletic dude before.)

I fully believe that if a food or category of foods gives you physical symptoms (some people can't eat tomatoes or they break out in hives; my older kid can't eat avocado anymore or the left side of their face balloons up frighteningly), don't eat it! But the fact is that outside of those conditions, the inclusion of elimination of any one food item is not going to ruin or supercharge your life.

A couple of interesting effects, though; one negative and one positive: 1) Whereas before, I could drink caffeine in bed as I was winding down and still sleep like a log, my tolerance is diminished. If I have some soda with dinner, I am not sleepy at 11, even if it's been a long day and I need sleep. I guess an upside of this is that I need less caffeine to get a boost from it? 2) When we went to Haiti 7 years ago, I had to find caffeine gum to take with me because I wasn't certain I could find soda there. I did end up having one Coke and one Diet Coke during the week. But I have a wider variety of beverage options now. Mal wanted to get McDonald's the other day on our way home from the Zilker Botanical Garden, and what sounded really good to me was unsweetened tea. It was not good; it was McDonald's swill. But it was drinkable and I finished it. So the beverage world is really my oyster now?

That's it. Sorry it's not more compelling. Reality usually is not. :)

Wading Through Sludge

Last week, everything just felt hard.

Getting Mal to take his fiber gummies... hard. Getting Mal to brush his teeth in the morning... hard. Getting Mal to sit on the toilet a few times a day... hard. Getting Mal to go outside... hard. Keeping up with the cooking and cleaning while we're all in this space 24/7... hard. Keeping up with groceries and supplies and Amazon orders... hard. Remembering to put Miralax in everything Mal was drinking... hard.

It was just slow and heavy, and I was tired. I'm still a little tired, but I have changed things up just a tiny bit this week.

First, I ditched the fiber supplements and am looking for new ones. I ate them and they're not terrible; I'll probably finish them. They do have a "chicory root" aftertaste, but that's because... they're made out of chicory root.

Second, James has a 4-day weekend coming up, and just having something different to look forward to is helping.

Third, I am over the hump of trying to cut down on both caffeine and, mostly, caramel color (for my own reasons; you do you, love), so my personality has mostly returned, and I think I feel slightly more human than I did last week.

Now... has Mal made any progress on the gastro-internal health front? That would be a big old "not really." Somehow, even though we've had him on Miralax for a week and a half, I've given him Activia and sugar-free chocolate, he has seriously upped his fiber, and it's likely that everything in him is totally liquid now (we had a couple of eye-opening and nose-pinching incidents over the weekend that required much cleaning and erasing of memories), he WILL NOT POOP.

Today, I was trying to have him sit on the toilet every time his stomach growled. The second time, he just refused. I told him that he will never get better, never heal his muscle tone, never be able to feel when he actually needs to go, if we don't first get him empty so he can recover. He cried and told he he'd sit on the toilet tomorrow. I picked him up, as I often do, and carried him in there. But he's just over 50 pounds and my left thumb is messed up. When he struggles, it's like he weighs 150 pounds.

He was trying to run away from me, to get out of the bathroom. He was crying and complaining. I felt myself getting VERY angry, so I just sat him in the floor of the restroom and walked away. He ended up giving up, "Fine! I'll go!" and sat down. He did not go, though.

Everything I've read says not to make this kind of thing traumatizing for the child, not to get emotional, to make it fun. But it doesn't say what to do if your child is content never to go into the bathroom except to pee, and no amount of offering to read, let him play a game on his computer, chat, tell stories, play games, have a counting contest, etc. can convince him. He's already traumatized, and I'm worried that if we have to seek further, more invasive, medical intervention, it will be even worse. I'm trying to stay patient and stay the course, even as I see his distended belly and feel how rock-hard it is.

Anyway, here's Mal. He's precious. And he's a lot. I love him, and I wish I could say that I wouldn't change anything about him, but I do wish I could painlessly steamroll his abdomen and squeeze him empty like a toothpaste tube.

Attempting Evacuations

Mal has been awake for about an hour and a half. He's had his fiber supplement, his drink has Miralax in it, and I actually made 100% whole wheat waffles this morning. I guess I should start thinking about how to work in whole wheat flour with other baking items, since all of the foods Mal enjoys are apparently "constipating" foods. He used to eat broccoli, but not anymore... and, of course, that helps stuff stay on the move in the digestive system. Anyway, he likes baked goods, so I'll start working on that. James will prefer it that way.

Hmm. I just tasted the waffles and they're... different. I'm kind of surprised Mal ate more than half of his, because they ARE different.

Anyway, that's just a brief check-in. Now we're on to Star Wars LEGOs.

On Gentle Parenting... and Poop

In a much quicker update than I was expecting to have when I mentioned the restroom issues Mal was having yesterday: I took him to the doctor today. He had an x-ray. I can't show you the image because I don't have access to it, but here is the official description: "There is a nonspecific nonobstructive bowel gas pattern. Prominent colonic stool burden with redundant air-filled sigmoid colon. No suspicious calcifications are seen. The osseous structures are unremarkable."

To put it in layman's terms: My son is full of shite. His entire large intestine is stuffed. There are other things the doctor showed me on the x-ray that I won't go into here, because I know TMI when I see it, believe it or not.

I'm a medical minimalist, and I'm not sure I would have thought to take him to the doctor yet, if it weren't for some very wise fellow unschoolers in the Austin area. I reached out and asked for advice, and explained that I was not interested in the advice I've heard from some parents, to the tune of: "Make them clean it up if they soil their pants," and "Clean their bottoms off in a cold shower. I did it to my daughter twice, and she started going in the toilet."

I don't like those ideas because they're punitive. Even the "experts" who say, "Don't get emotional, but do make them clean it up. It's a natural and logical consequence," it's still a punishment. There's almost no other area in Mal's life where I insist he clean up a mess he's made with zero help, and this is actually a lot more involved than putting up Legos. It also requires a certain manual dexterity in order to clean without making a bigger mess.

And the cold shower thing? I don't want to take a cold shower. Even if I do something totally dumb and get myself very dirty, I would prefer to be comfortable when cleaning up. Why would I subject my child to something I myself would find miserable?

Fortunately, there are many like-minded parents in this group from whom I sought collaborative advice. All were in agreement: He knows. He's already stressed. You don't have to talk about it or make it a big deal. Two or three recommended I take him to the doctor and ask for an ultrasound. A couple tagged a pediatrician who offered to help me if I didn't have a family pediatrician.

We do, and so I made an appointment. I told the doctor that when all of this started, months and months ago, I think it *was* a behavioral thing. Mal would hide in his room instead of going to the bathroom, and just work really hard to hold it in. He's never just pooped his pants. He just didn't want us to see him working so hard NOT to go to the bathroom. But over time, I think this built up to the point that it crossed over into a physical problem, based on everything I read and then other people's input.

And today, we verified it. He has a medical issue that we're going to tackle with... medicine. I already feel bad enough about any frustration I showed him over the cleaning and the monitoring that we've had to do. So on the way home, I told him that the doctor confirmed that this was a problem inside of his body, and we're going to take care of it. That I appreciated how hard he's been trying not to dirty his pants, but it's not his fault if it happens, and he's such a good boy, regardless.

Imagine how much worse I'd feel if I'd tried manipulating him into a behavior that his body currently renders impossible. I'm grateful to be old enough to "know better" and reject bad parenting advice when I see it. Even if Mal were just a little booger who was crapping his pants intentionally, the fact is that there's always a way to approach solutions like you're on the same team with your children. I wish I'd realized this sooner, when D was much younger.

Changing the subject slightly: It WAS every bit as exhausting taking Mal to the doctor, then downstairs for an x-ray, then back up to the doctor's office as you might think. He complained in the lobby that he wanted to go home. He complained in the patient room that he wanted to go home. He cried a LOT in the imaging lobby that he would just lie on the floor out there and they could bring the camera out to take a picture there. He took a death grip on the chair when the gentle and patient technician came out to call us back.

One good thing about having the mask (#COVID19) was that Mal pulled it up to cover his eyes, too, so he wouldn't have to see the x-ray. It was incredibly quiet and non-threatening. Still, Mal was upset the whole time and insisted later that it was awful and he'd never talk about it again. He vacillated over whether or not to see "the picture," then just didn't care when we got to look at it.

After the doctor's office, we went to Target to get a LEGO set I'd ordered him for pick-up and we had to wait in a very long line to get into the store, even just to go to customer service and get out. THEN, because I'd promised my family In N Out, we had to wait in a VERY long drive-through line for that. Both moved pretty quickly, but by the time we got home, I was TIRED.

Mal, though, seemed to get a rush of energy from the adrenaline of the day, and has been bouncing off the walls pretty much nonstop since. We've been home six hours and he's jumping on the couch. I don't usually feel like an "old mom," but I definitely do today. After care-taking for such an emotionally wrought child for a good hour at the pediatrician's, I was ready to crash. Not so with my kid. And now he wants me to go play LEGO Minecraft with him, so I suppose I should do that. I'm actually ready for bed right now, but... guess it's time to be Alex.

Social Distancing, Day 23 and 24

You'll be happy to know we're about halfway through my first menstrual period of social distancing, and so far no one has died. I'm irritated, though! Also, super glad I really like the people I live with because they're not annoying me at all. Am I annoying them? If only I cared enough to inquire.

Recently, the only tiny bit of "social media" that remained in my life was Nextdoor, and as of this week, after a heated argument with a couple of women over the apparent necessity of detailing in graphic fashion what can happen to your former pet if you re-home it with someone you don't know, I am done with that. Our neighborhood has had a few dramas brewing on the site for some time. But when I read what I read, just thrown out there with no content warning, I had to do something. It was not taken well. And I'm a neighborhood lead! I asked ND what I had to do to be removed, and they said that until I find a replacement, they can't "demote" me. Okay, fine. It'll just be a free-for-all with no attempts at moderation. Won't be much different from now.

Also, I'm feeling like maybe, once this is all over, we don't have to try to maintain friendships with other homeschoolers? Mal is SO social, but he has a couple of good friends, and it's been such a relief not to head out to a park, wondering whether anyone (even the organizer) is going to show up or not.

Also also, I'm feeling like, if it turns out James can work from home most of the time, we should just sell our house and live in an RV, specifically a motor home. We could travel over the weekends, and then plan to be parked somewhere during the week so James can have internet and time to do his vocation.

At the same time, I planted a new tree yesterday. We'd bought one gala and one Granny Smith apple tree last winter. The chickens loved taking baths at the food of the gala tree, often exposing its baby roots.

When trees started greening this year, we waited and waited and the gala tree never came back. Yesterday, I made the call that it was dead, and fortunately, Hill Country Water Gardens still had a fuji apple tree available. They're closed to the public, but you can order online or over the phone and go pick it up at their curbside. They get fruit trees in in the fall, and once they're out, they're out... so I was grateful to get the one we got. I planted it last night and we'll see how it goes. Hopefully, without animals to pick at it, this one will do better.

Additionally, I've decided that I might never be able to make it to church. Services are online now, and I still can't get it together in time. We're going to bed later and sleeping later than ever, and we were on a pretty lazy schedule before all of this. Also, I'm finding myself mildly irritated about a couple of minor things there, anyway, and... mehh.

I guess you could say I'm maybe a little stir crazy? I've gotten down on the floor and hand-scrubbed the kitchen and dining room floors, then did the same thing in the bathrooms a few days later. I have vacuumed my car. I have straightened and cleared out stuff in Mal's room. I have everything ready for our modest Easter celebration. We have plenty of groceries. My kids are happy. We're building a magical world of Mario for Mal to play with. We're the lucky ones. We're the privileged ones I'm reading about in all of the stories about how unevenly COVID-19 is hitting Americans (and we ARE trying to leverage that some).

So far, we have the Mushroom, Cap, and Cascade Kingdoms.

Speaking of Mario, tomorrow night is Friday Fest: Super Mario's Italian Extravaganza. We're ordering from Olive Garden which, I know, isn't actually Italian food. BUT, Mal requested it as he likes their spaghetti, and it also plays prominently in the movie Sonic the Hedgehog. This time, when Mal "dresses up" as Mario, he'll be totally on-point. It was a struggle to get him to embrace the theme, actually. He wanted to repeat the Minecraft one, ad infinitum, basically every Friday until we pass from this earth.

Oh! And a new thing: Mal has seen on YouTube commercials for Super Nintendo Land at Universal Studios. The one in Japan is supposed to open this August, but the one in Florida won't be ready until 2023. We'll have it as a goal to go, and we'll see how long Mal can keep up this enthusiasm. Hopefully by the time he's 9, Mal will be able to tolerate either an airplane ride or a pretty substantial road trip.

We've blown past the temperate week here in Central Texas and it's now 90 degrees and 80% humidity until October. I'll be glad when Urban Air is open again! I got Mal a little water pad for the back yard, and we'd gotten him a water table recently. Trying to find ways he can get outside and get some energy out without dying. He hates walking. I'm going on a walk or two every day, and I can sometimes get Mal to go on one, but he's usually complaining about going home within about two houses. So we typically take a stroller on the second one. It's ridiculous, but I need to get out and move.

And sometimes, he just plays with the water hose.

I guess that's about all of the non-news for now. My outlook will likely improve when this hormonal intrusion has abated. Or maybe it'll be worse. You know what would be fun? Menopause in quarantine.

Social Distancing, Day 8? I think?

It's been an interesting week, maybe the first in dozens... or even hundreds? Yikes. Let's take this one day at a time.

First of all, my family is largely introverted, and this social distancing thing isn't as horrible as it could be. Also, we mostly all like each other mostly all of the time, so that's definitely making things easier. Furthermore, we're not as stressed about finances as I know many people are (even though we've lost A LOT of our 401(k) equity) because James is able to work from home. 

Next up: We had an unpleasant surprise last week when I realized that the brand-spanking-new heat pump we had installed a month or so ago was leaking. I ascertained that from looking at the spreading rust-colored stain and dent in my kitchen ceiling. The company who installed it was so responsive. He came out and brought a bunch of fans and a dehumidifier (which pulled about 2 gallons of water from our ambiance every 24 hours) and is having a contractor replace the sheetrock.

Mal has, as you may know, has a weird hearing thing where certain sounds are "too loud" for him, even if they're not objectively LOUD. Like, he wants his headphones at Urban Air because of the fan that keeps one of the inflatable areas full. The fan isn't actually loud, and Mal can handle much louder noises if it's something like driving down the road with the window open, or blasting a song he likes. 

Anyway, he thought the fan and dehumidifier that were in the kitchen were "too loud," so we spent Friday shut into his room. He vacillated between watching TV, playing Sonic the Hedgehog and/or Lego Minecraft (like with toys), and playing Mario Odyssey on his Switch. Saturday, I shut down the fans to give us a little break. I love hanging out with Mal, but his kid-sized table and chairs weren't doing my back any favors, and I wanted to do some stuff in the common area of the house.

I left the trundle out but down, and Mal enjoyed the seat. We were eating breakfast at his mini-table.

Saturday afternoon, Mal asked, "Can we turn the fans back on? I want to go into my room and have another best day ever."

He is basically thriving right now. I don't have to change things up on him, and transitions are often hard. He doesn't want to leave the house, then once we go, he doesn't want to come back, etc. So this is probably very calming for him.

The fans are gone now, and today it was nice out for the first time in a couple of days. Mal and I are going on walks almost every day (we didn't Saturday or Sunday because of cold drizzle) and today saw three different neighbors we've never seen before. Two were out just sitting on their porches, watching the world go by. I'm sure it's because they're bored out of their skulls, but it was nice to meet them, anyway. The other was planting wild sunflowers in her yard, and she gave us three to plant for ourselves.

We also saw Mal's friend's grandma, and chatted with her from a healthy distance (minimum 6 feet), and Darrell, the neighbor who gave us our irises.

This is the second time he's walked as Mario. Whatever gets him out and moving, right?

We have decided to eat out on the front porch whenever the weather is amicable (and until the mosquitoes put the kibosh on our al fresco dining). Mal got to run around and we had a nice meal, so everybody wins!

#turquoisetable

D's banjo lessons are being held online, and so far that's not something D is comfortable with. I hope we can make it work since we don't know how long it will be before they can do in-person classes again.

We've been able to find almost everything we need at the stores, but that's only because we've taken probably 4 trips to the stores in the past 10 days, and because we have a subscription from Charmin Forever Roll. We haven't been able to find flour, but have about a pound left. A neighbor has offered us a 5 pound bag, so hopefully I can go get that from him soon.

The mayor announced, along with many other "urban" Texas mayors, a "shelter-in-place" order that goes into effect tomorrow. We've been mostly doing what it mandates, except maybe walking down to the lake. I think, as long as we kept moving, it could fall under the "outdoors exercise" category, but probably playing on the playground would be a no-no. Again, *so far* this is not being a huge issue for Mal. let's hope that trend holds fast.

Nothing very interesting is going on in our little neck of the woods, otherwise. So far, the family is thriving from this mandated down time. Hoping everyone else stays healthy and safe out there.

Social Distancing, Day 1

Yestereve, my husband did take our younger child to the shopping emporium where he might indulge in playtime activities with other youths. It would appear that this should be the last time in at least a fortnight that the youngster should have such an opportunity, as the leaders of our municipalities, yay, even our country itself, have mandated that the populace should go into quarantine to slow the further spread of this novel coronavirus, SARS CoV-2, or Covid-19.

We shall therefore attempt to remain isolated, an effort aided by the fact that places of hospitality and respite have altered operations to provide sustenance for their clientele, but insist that it be consumed off-premises. Additionally, many amusements have been temporarily shuttered. It is my firm belief that all public pastimes, including the cinema, which has been greatly reduced in capacity, shall soon be entirely off-limits as we wait for this plague to run its course.

This day has been spent in domestic pursuits, including baking pastries for the morrow's St. Patrick's holiday; electronic gaming; fresh air disport; board games; and familial joviality. What will the spring bring? How long will this lack of social interaction endure? I shall, of course, update you as the situation progresses. I remain,

Ever Yours