Siege

I'm back

Can't believe it's been since March that I've posted. Oh well - life gets in the way. I decided to post for NaBloPoMo this year. It should be interesting.

So there, it's a totally boring post about nothing except to say, I'm back.

Goddess of the Type 2

I'm getting my blood checked every 3 months because of the big D.  The first 3 months after my diagnosis, I was very strict about what I put in my mouth.  It was a huge struggle, but my motivation was high - so I succeeded.

These last 3 months, not so much.  Oh, I still watch what I eat, but I'm quite a bit more lax about it.  For example, I have ice cream every now and again.  I even eat a cookie once in a while (though not often because they make my stomach hurt now).

So I was a little apprehensive about my blood test this morning.  I knew it wasn't going to be terrible, but I didn't expect this:

Test	Level	Normal
A1C	5.6	3.8-6.4
Cholesterol	113	1-200
Triglycerides	104	1-150
HDL	34	40-60
LDL	59	1-129

Let me just remind you that my A1C was 8.9 in September and 6.3 in November.  Am I rocking this thing or what?!!?

Invalidate Proposition 8

I've said it before and I'll say it again - Love is Love is Love.  I don't care who you sleep with.  It doesn't threaten me.  It doesn't affect the "sanctity" of my marriage.  Please go watch this video and then sign the petition if you're so inclined.

Why I love working in a hospital

Let me remind you that 2 Februaries ago, I fell on some ice and broke my right ankle.  Specifically, I broke my distal fibula, dislocated my ankle, and tore a ligament into pieces.  What followed was several months of convalescence, a plaster cast, a walking cast, a go-cart, and crutches.  It was grueling and I've been very careful about where I put my feet since then.

On Tuesday last week, I was leaving the parking lot to catch a commuter bus to work.  When I stepped on the sidewalk my right foot was on a patch of black ice.  I was on my hands and knees in an instant.  I got up, walked over to the bus shelter and sat down before the fat, salty tears could flow.  I honestly don't know how I made it because my knees were wobbling terribly.

Of course, I had to let Employee Services know because it happened on University property and they told me to go to Employee Health right away.  I figured that I was banged up pretty good, but nothing was broken, but they insisted on Xrays.  I didn't fight it - I wanted to make sure too.  Let me present to you my right ankle.

So, to orient you, you're looking at my leg as if we're standing face to face.  The big thick bone on the right is the tibia (the weight bearing bone) and the thinner bone on the left is the fibula.  If you look closely at the fibula, you can see the screw holes where they removed my hardware in December. 

The tiny bright spot to the right of the tibia is a metal button that holds the Kevlar band in place.  The band was there to stabilize the dislocation until everything could heal.  My Orthopod decided to leave the band as he didn't want to muck around in my ankle trying to remove it.  The holes will eventually fill in, but it will take some time.  I'm happy to say the quality of my bones looks good (according to the Orthopod) and the fracture has healed very well.

Employee health also took Xrays of my knee and my foot.  They were really making sure everything was okay.  Because I work here, I could pull up the radiology reports and read them.  I was intrigued by this:  "Prominent plantar surface calcaneal spur."  Hmmm, 'prominent'?  The calcaneus is your heel bone.  It's what takes most of the force when you're walking/running/standing.  It should be a smooth, squarish bone.

I started to wonder if the spur had anything to do with my plantar fasciitis that I've had off and on for a couple of years.  Of course I had to go look at the Xrays.

Prominent, my ass, that thing's HUGE!  I've seen lots of foot Xrays in my time here - I've never seen anything that big.  I could be a Nazgul and never have to strap anything on to make my horse do what I want it to do!

Just for comparison, this is a left calcaneus (not mine).  This is the whole foot, but see how smooth the calcaneus looks there on the left of the picture?  No spurs on this person! 

I know that getting older is better than the alternative, but geez, could I catch a break anytime soon?

Blog for Choice Day 2009

It's the anniversary of Roe v. Wade.  I don't remember not having a choice, but I do have a story.  I am the middle of three children.  When my mother was pregnant with my sister, she had some serious problems.  There was spotting and bleeding throughout the pregnancy, but it was 1967 - there wasn't much they could do for her.  About 2 weeks before her due date, she woke up in the middle of the night and the mattress was soaked.  She was so embarrassed that she had wet the bed without waking up.  Then she turned on the light.  The entire mattress was covered in blood.  How long had she laid there, quietly bleeding out?

My dad was a long-haul trucker in those days, so he wasn't there or even within calling distance.  She called her sister who rushed her to the hospital.  She says she remembers white lights and a lot of doctors and that one of the nurses said, "Is she going to make it?  At some point, she saw herself lying on the table and hearing a baby cry.  She says she thought to herself, "Oh, I guess Doug will have to take care of them now."  As quick as that, she was back in her body and opening her eyes.

About 6 months later - she thought she was pregnant again.  Then she was afraid.  She talked to her doctor about a tubal ligation.  Not only was there a points process that she had to go through (how old was she, how many children did she already have), but she had to have my dad's permission to have the operation.  Seriously, he had to go to the doctor's office and listen to what would happen during the procedure and HE had to sign a paper giving his permission for her to control her own fertility.  An adult woman in the early 1970s.

People, we cannot go back to those days.  I control what goes on in my uterus.  I am the one who is responsible for its products and I am the one who ultimately pays for any choice I make.  Our daughters deserve to make their own informed choices - we owe it to them to make sure they can.

Hope

I have it.  Can I get a witness?

Little Big Man

 

My son is a Spartan.  My mother has torn her clothes and has resorted to wearing black.  Hub is just glad he was accepted somewhere away from home.  I figure I'm going to use it as an excuse to drop in on Threadbear whenever I want.

266

Back in June, I went in for my annual physical.  You know, make sure everything was okay.  I hadn't had my blood checked in a couple of years (when I broke my leg last year, I forgot about all else health related).  So I got referrals for the dermatologist, the orthopod, and a sheet with lab tests.  I pretty much forgot about the lab tests this year too.

Then I read on one of my new favorite blogs (Shakesville) that Liss' husband was diagnosed with diabetes because he had some tingling in his hands and feet.  I thought, "Hmm, I have some tingling in my fingers ... could it be that?"

I went to have my blood drawn the next day.  Because I work in the hospital, I could look up the results.  Normal blood glucose/sugar?  I'm glad you asked, it's anywhere from 70 to 110 if you've been fasting.  I pulled up my results and said, "Holy fuck!"  When my office mates asked what the problem was, I told them my glucose was reading 266.  After fasting for almost 12 hours.  I knew I was really in trouble when they both looked stricken.

I immediately called my doctor for an appointment and they got me in within 2 days.  She confirmed my diagnosis, because my level was up to 277 when I was in her office.

This lovely thing is my new best friend.  It's a blood glucose meter and because I'm a gadget freak, I play with it all the time.  I even went and got a program to load into my Palm Pilot to track my meds, glucose, and carb intake.  It has pretty graphs and everything.  When I first picked it up (the Monday after my diagnosis) I was convinced it was broken because my glucose had dropped almost 100 points in 3 days.

It wasn't broken, the meds are working.  Well, that and the fact that I have given up the nectar of the gods.  No more Coca*Cola for me.

The weird thing?  I'm not sad.  Yes, it's a life changing event.  Yes, there are some pretty scary things that can happen because of diabetes.  No, it will not become the definition of who I am.  It's one more part of the mix that makes me the complex goddess I am. 

20 Years

When my husband left for Alaska in 2007, I was happy.  Two weeks before he had given me the "suck it up, you're not the only person this has ever happened to" speech about getting over my broken leg.  I was pissed.  Seriously.  He went straight out into the bush and couldn't call for 3 weeks.  It was a very good thing.  I didn't want to talk to him, hear from him, nothing.  People, I can carry a grudge like nobody's business.  {Thanks Dad.}

When he finally called, it was okay.  I could talk to him without getting angry and it was a really good cooling off period.  We spoke periodically, but never at length.  When he came home after two months, it was strained.  I was glad to see him; he was glad to see me, but there was tension.  We took a road trip to see a friend get married and re-connected.  I finally got the chance to tell him how angry I was for so long and he listened and apologized.  It was good.

This year he left for Alaska in mid-June.  He comes back this Saturday.  I can barely speak about how much I have missed him this summer.  I spent the first 2 months yearning for him.  Not in a physical sense, but in the way when something happens (good or bad) I wanted to tell him and get his input.  I wanted to talk to him and have him talk to me - I just wanted to hear his voice.  He couldn't call for the first 2 weeks he was in camp.  Then he borrowed someone's satellite phone.  We got to speak for about 7 minutes before the connection went out.  I sat staring at the phone for 10 minutes willing him to call back.  It was another week before he could hike to someplace with a phone.

In July, he called, "I have about 2 and a half weeks off at the beginning of August.  Come."

I said, "I don't know, Sassy's field hockey practice has started.  Little Big Man's football practice has started.  I'm awfully busy at work ..."

Jillian said, "Why are you even thinking about this?!!  Your husband wants you to come and visit him and you're hesitating?  Get off the phone right now and make an airline reservation!"

I did.  We spent a week at the beginning of August driving around and seeing the gorgeous sites of Alaska.  I can see why he loves it so much and we didn't even leave what passes for civilization.

Then I had to leave.

We wandered around the hotel room for a couple of hours before leaving for the airport.  Finally I said, "Let's just go and get this over with."  We walked out to the car and before I even got the door open, I burst into tears.

He looked at me and said, "What the hell is this?"  (I'm not known for my crying.)

I said, "This is so much harder than when you left me!  When I'm at home, I have all my comforting things around me.  I'm leaving you here all alone!"  (Okay, that's what I would have said if it weren't for the great, hiccuping sobs.)

Somehow he got me to the airport and we said goodbye.  When I turned to look back one more time while I was getting my boarding pass, he was gone.

I have since told him that I cannot do that again.  It was too hard to leave, knowing that it would be another 5 weeks before he came home.  He's in a place where we can talk every couple of days, but these last few weeks have been especially difficult.  I'm dealing with teen angst (x2!) and the chaos that is the start of the school year.

It's our 20th anniversary today.  Last night when I talked to him I asked if he would do it all again.  He said, "Absolutely!" before I could even finish the sentence.  Me too.

Please

5 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Poor (Failure) Take the test!

I'm shocked. Shocked I tell you. Shocked and stunned.