We had a seriously stellar weekend. The main component of stellarness for me was that for two days in a row now, I haven't had a migraine. As someone whose brain is in a constant state of migraine, that's kind of a hard thing to define. Perhaps more accurately, I haven't had any symptoms this weekend beside normal fatigue and light sensitivity, which is to say no nausea, no pain, no brain fog. HUGE STUFF MAN!!! Normal fatigue dictates I still take a nap every day, and normal photophobia says "Always wear your hat and shades outside" but other than that, we did stellar stuff these past two days, I'll tell you all about it.
One of the biggest things we did was really get the girls' toys in the office under control. We have been purging for a while, ever since I went berzerkers when I realized the state of crap their bookshelves were in. They have kept their shelves neat upon threat of pain and dismemberment, and we have just rolled on from there into the office. Several bags of trashed and donated toys later, and everything has and is in a place. [ie not on the floor] Plus I purchased a bomb storage ottoman today (whilst having some Emily time mind you) that even came with internal, adjustable dividers! Target baby, gotta' love Target. Tomorrow I may very well purchase another for the girls' bedroom and their stuffed animals at Sasha's request. I'd like to keep the organization party rolling, don't'cha know?
We also managed general maintenance upon their room, and cleaned out the storage bins under the chalkboard/whiteboard easel. Also we processed food, ran errands, played outside, and did general Sasha migraine management which takes a lot of emotional and physical energy. But basically, it felt so much more akin to normal than any other weekend we've had lately. I think some of us even caught showers or something. OH!!! I also got to hang out with one of my oldest and bestest friends on Friday, who took me out for ice cream. Ice Cream! Did I mention Friday was the day I finished the bitchin' set of cardboard hummingbird wings I made out of nowhere, and mailed off during errands on Saturday?!?!? I'm not joking when I say stellar!
Right about........NOW is when I usually start longing for more days when the migraine stays asleep so I can prance about in this alternate reality where I am a more functional human. Shoot, I even thought about playing the guitar yesterday! A couple more days of this and I actually will. But right now I'm just really happy about the two/three days of awesome we just had. I realize it seems the world is falling apart, but my world falls apart every damn day, at least three times give or take. I just can't bring myself to even be a little bit afraid of terrorism. They are the weak ones you guys, and all they can create is temporary chaos before disappearing into oblivion. When we create anything beautiful, we triumph. I think we have to keep creating, and certainly not be afraid.
Hm. It's always dreadful to feel good for a while, and then get all migrainey again. But perhaps we made real progress in these glorious two/three days. I know within the context of this short and vaporous life, the road sure seems long and torturous. Maybe I'll be able to keep calm and keep creating. Chaos sucks for sure, but I hope we're being as proactive as possible in this fight.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Thursday, November 5, 2015
Eggnog Season
Sasha has food.
Sasha will have more food.
I don't have to go to the market tomorrow.
I can stay home and if I don't have a roaring migraine, I can caulk the cracks in the wall by the ceiling beams and we can save some heat and energy this winter.
Sasha felt so nauseated this morning that I had to pull over and find a drinking fountain at a store so she could take meds, because we left the house without her water bottle. We don't risk store bottled water because most of it has corn derivatives added. We survived the errands and managed to do schoolwork today, despite my leftover migraine.
So what do I care about how much funding I have in my homeschool account for lessons Sasha can't take or curriculum we won't use? I have to order flooring tomorrow to patch the bare spot where the weird add-in fireplace used to be. Then, for the five hundred millionth time, I have to call insurance AND the allergist about an issue that started in April when someone somewhere messed something up that started a whole line of screwed up EOBs and incorrect bills that everyone and their mom swore they fixed at least 4 times now, that I just got sent another bill for. I no joke, have a whole file just for this one issue, which is not even related to all the other insurance mistakes that I have been dealing with since Monday. I have been taking my kids to the allergist for 9 fucking years. Nine fucking years, and then that one time there was a glitch in the matrix and now everything's broken.
*weeping desperately* And on Monday...Monday, I take Em to UCSF and beg and plead with the front office to code the damn visit correctly for the attending physician and not the resident so that I don't have to scream and cry at my insurance to get them to understand what's going on, since I promise you, it will be no one else's mistake but mine for having sick kids at the end of the day.
And all this bullshit is how my kids and I are supposed to be getting better?
But Sasha's Avocados are coming in, so there's that. She's out of bed and crying because she feels so crappy, and I'll put some essential oils on her and give her an ice pack and hope that works to get her to sleep, a fairly regular occurrence. But day in, day out, we slide by just barely hanging on, rolling with all the major disasters. The guy pulling the fireplace out could hardly believe how little we cared if the floor patch really matched or not. I tried to explain. *shrug*
It's just hard to believe. I grieved when we lost wheat, and I really grieved when we lost corn. Now I find myself in the cycles of grief over the general state of my life, and I wish to get past it as soon as possible so I get on with pounding through. But so much of me is still in denial. Could this really be how life works? You're sick, your kids are sick. You have insurance, they screw you day in and day out, and no one gets better. The food situation fluctuates but it's never "good", and you have to continue giving a shit about every day stuff like laundry.
Oh, but it's eggnog season. I am genuinely stoked about that. And in an ideal world I have an entire upright freezer dedicated to frozen eggnog to sustain me through the summer. Solar powered, of course, because in my ideal world we're solar, obviously.
Sasha will have more food.
I don't have to go to the market tomorrow.
I can stay home and if I don't have a roaring migraine, I can caulk the cracks in the wall by the ceiling beams and we can save some heat and energy this winter.
Sasha felt so nauseated this morning that I had to pull over and find a drinking fountain at a store so she could take meds, because we left the house without her water bottle. We don't risk store bottled water because most of it has corn derivatives added. We survived the errands and managed to do schoolwork today, despite my leftover migraine.
So what do I care about how much funding I have in my homeschool account for lessons Sasha can't take or curriculum we won't use? I have to order flooring tomorrow to patch the bare spot where the weird add-in fireplace used to be. Then, for the five hundred millionth time, I have to call insurance AND the allergist about an issue that started in April when someone somewhere messed something up that started a whole line of screwed up EOBs and incorrect bills that everyone and their mom swore they fixed at least 4 times now, that I just got sent another bill for. I no joke, have a whole file just for this one issue, which is not even related to all the other insurance mistakes that I have been dealing with since Monday. I have been taking my kids to the allergist for 9 fucking years. Nine fucking years, and then that one time there was a glitch in the matrix and now everything's broken.
*weeping desperately* And on Monday...Monday, I take Em to UCSF and beg and plead with the front office to code the damn visit correctly for the attending physician and not the resident so that I don't have to scream and cry at my insurance to get them to understand what's going on, since I promise you, it will be no one else's mistake but mine for having sick kids at the end of the day.
And all this bullshit is how my kids and I are supposed to be getting better?
But Sasha's Avocados are coming in, so there's that. She's out of bed and crying because she feels so crappy, and I'll put some essential oils on her and give her an ice pack and hope that works to get her to sleep, a fairly regular occurrence. But day in, day out, we slide by just barely hanging on, rolling with all the major disasters. The guy pulling the fireplace out could hardly believe how little we cared if the floor patch really matched or not. I tried to explain. *shrug*
It's just hard to believe. I grieved when we lost wheat, and I really grieved when we lost corn. Now I find myself in the cycles of grief over the general state of my life, and I wish to get past it as soon as possible so I get on with pounding through. But so much of me is still in denial. Could this really be how life works? You're sick, your kids are sick. You have insurance, they screw you day in and day out, and no one gets better. The food situation fluctuates but it's never "good", and you have to continue giving a shit about every day stuff like laundry.
Oh, but it's eggnog season. I am genuinely stoked about that. And in an ideal world I have an entire upright freezer dedicated to frozen eggnog to sustain me through the summer. Solar powered, of course, because in my ideal world we're solar, obviously.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
TMI-This product may cause sudden explosive diarrhea
Let's talk about sudden, explosive diarrhea. It is uncomfortable, as you might imagine. Or maybe you don't have to imagine, because you've had it, and you are now recalling the circumstances that brought you the feeling of ominous death in your guts, your mad dash to the water closet, and the violent expulsion that ultimately, brought relief.
Grapes are supposed to be a low nickel food. I am way stupid sensitive to nickel in plant based food, so my diet is stupid limited. (because we don't have enough food issues here, apparently) Grapes are about the only convenient fruit I thought was safe. 4 grapes and 4 hours later, I'm not so sure anymore.
In my reading about explosive diarrhea, I learned that your intestines are made of epithelial cells, which are also the type of cells your skin is made of. It makes a little more sense now why nickel runs screaming from my body, since even most doctors still consider nickel allergy to be just a skin contact issue. But in all fairness, even among nickel allergics it usually is.
And while hopefully the vast majority of the excess grape nickel has made its great escape, I must still contend with the residual itch, the small pokey spots that pop up on my face, neck, chest, and arms lest I forget so quickly the consequences of forbidden food.
I am angry. I am upset that at 36 I can learn how to use a real abacus and also teach my migraine-plagued 7 year old, read Don Quixote in Spanish and English, keep everyone's regular pills, migraine journals, food allergies, emergency meds, and doctor appointment straight, and still have no hope for a future until glorious death frees us from the shit bombs known as Today, Tomorrow, and the Next Day. No amount of effort is going to cure any of us of anything. I don't feel like there is much of a point to doing cool nerd things, when what I really need is to have the FUCKING ENERGY TO GROW FOOD. Food I can't eat of course, but that's hardly relevant since it would be food my kid/s can eat. This, this is not life. I walk around in a pretend, fake body, waiting for the end of a pretend, fake world.
We are utterly in God's hands, and God's hands kind of suck right now. I watch my friends go through cycles of life, you know, highs and lows. We don't have cycles, just sick, sicker, and completely non-functional. For years now, that's it! But maybe Sasha will get so obsessed with abacus math that she'll become a mathematician, make lots of money even WITH continual migraine and disabling corn allergy, and be able to start her own corn free farm, thus revolutionizing food in crap America.
And maybe someday crap food America won't be a wretched majority two-party system of government. Hah.
Grapes are supposed to be a low nickel food. I am way stupid sensitive to nickel in plant based food, so my diet is stupid limited. (because we don't have enough food issues here, apparently) Grapes are about the only convenient fruit I thought was safe. 4 grapes and 4 hours later, I'm not so sure anymore.
In my reading about explosive diarrhea, I learned that your intestines are made of epithelial cells, which are also the type of cells your skin is made of. It makes a little more sense now why nickel runs screaming from my body, since even most doctors still consider nickel allergy to be just a skin contact issue. But in all fairness, even among nickel allergics it usually is.
And while hopefully the vast majority of the excess grape nickel has made its great escape, I must still contend with the residual itch, the small pokey spots that pop up on my face, neck, chest, and arms lest I forget so quickly the consequences of forbidden food.
I am angry. I am upset that at 36 I can learn how to use a real abacus and also teach my migraine-plagued 7 year old, read Don Quixote in Spanish and English, keep everyone's regular pills, migraine journals, food allergies, emergency meds, and doctor appointment straight, and still have no hope for a future until glorious death frees us from the shit bombs known as Today, Tomorrow, and the Next Day. No amount of effort is going to cure any of us of anything. I don't feel like there is much of a point to doing cool nerd things, when what I really need is to have the FUCKING ENERGY TO GROW FOOD. Food I can't eat of course, but that's hardly relevant since it would be food my kid/s can eat. This, this is not life. I walk around in a pretend, fake body, waiting for the end of a pretend, fake world.
We are utterly in God's hands, and God's hands kind of suck right now. I watch my friends go through cycles of life, you know, highs and lows. We don't have cycles, just sick, sicker, and completely non-functional. For years now, that's it! But maybe Sasha will get so obsessed with abacus math that she'll become a mathematician, make lots of money even WITH continual migraine and disabling corn allergy, and be able to start her own corn free farm, thus revolutionizing food in crap America.
And maybe someday crap food America won't be a wretched majority two-party system of government. Hah.
Monday, October 12, 2015
The Bottle of my Mind
I slept about a bajillion hours yesterday, which was good because today was a big day full of many errands. The most disconcerting thing I did today was add to Emily's migraine journal. The most fun thing I did today was buy school supplies at Target. The things I am most proud of accomplishing today are hitting two doctor appointments (one for each child) and processing some pears and zucchinis. I don't think today would have been NEARLY as productive if I hadn't slept so much yesterday, and I would not have slept so much yesterday if I hadn't been fighting migraine all weekend. This is not an upside to migraine, but it does make me wonder if I'm a new species, a step backward on the evolutionary ladder if you will.
My brain is still a little...buzzy. It feels fuzzy, but at least it doesn't feel like vomiting anymore. It's the difference between being able to give the definitions to words my kids are constantly asking for, and waving them away. And the evening exhaustion is still a go-and-hide kind, but at least it's not a run-weeping-and-slam-the-door kind. Oh, and I haven't collapsed on the floor at any point today, so bonus.
There's just got to be a better way to get here. And then, *sigh* Em's pediatrician had to point out today that "These are things we don't normally see" at our referral appointment. You know, as I sat there with my one corn allergy kid who already goes to UCSF for uncontrolled migraine, and he's examining my other allergy kid whose migraine monster just woke up, like The Obvious wasn't just staring us in the face but also doesn't have its fingers up our noses; Ya, pretty sure I'm aware nothing about us is normal, which is why we go to the doctor like most people get pizza.
So, another trip to UCSF in November, and another in December, and after that hopefully we can either get the girls appointments aligned or do them over the computer, or align them over the computer. They're all kinds fancy like that. Until then, I've got to teach Em to grit her teeth and cope with the pain, because school exists. She just joined the band too, damn it. Which brings me to our futurecast...
We know a lot more about migraine now than when I was a kid. No one is telling me that Emily either has Leukemia or growing pains, as my mom was told when I was having undiagnosed abdominal migraines as a kid. Sasha is already on better meds than I was on ten years ago, and the fact that Emily will be on her second set of neurologists soon is orders of magnitude beyond where I was at her age. And yet, I still can't imagine anything close to a decent life for either of them. I'm sure this is just me projecting, and by no means do I spend time worrying about their futures. Ain't nobody got time for that mess, it's still pear season for the love of all things holy! But every time we talk about future anything, it feels like pretend.
But we found a really cool notebook at Target today. It has movable tabs, pockets, and even a spot to hold onto your pen. Plus I got a couple of nifty D ring binders for my homeschool schnazz. Still hate homeschool, still love school supplies. Oh, and when we got there, they hadn't even popped the popcorn yet so Sasha didn't have to wear her mask. Double Bonus. Triple bonus, my new organizational paradigm arrives Wednesday.
My brain is still a little...buzzy. It feels fuzzy, but at least it doesn't feel like vomiting anymore. It's the difference between being able to give the definitions to words my kids are constantly asking for, and waving them away. And the evening exhaustion is still a go-and-hide kind, but at least it's not a run-weeping-and-slam-the-door kind. Oh, and I haven't collapsed on the floor at any point today, so bonus.
There's just got to be a better way to get here. And then, *sigh* Em's pediatrician had to point out today that "These are things we don't normally see" at our referral appointment. You know, as I sat there with my one corn allergy kid who already goes to UCSF for uncontrolled migraine, and he's examining my other allergy kid whose migraine monster just woke up, like The Obvious wasn't just staring us in the face but also doesn't have its fingers up our noses; Ya, pretty sure I'm aware nothing about us is normal, which is why we go to the doctor like most people get pizza.
So, another trip to UCSF in November, and another in December, and after that hopefully we can either get the girls appointments aligned or do them over the computer, or align them over the computer. They're all kinds fancy like that. Until then, I've got to teach Em to grit her teeth and cope with the pain, because school exists. She just joined the band too, damn it. Which brings me to our futurecast...
We know a lot more about migraine now than when I was a kid. No one is telling me that Emily either has Leukemia or growing pains, as my mom was told when I was having undiagnosed abdominal migraines as a kid. Sasha is already on better meds than I was on ten years ago, and the fact that Emily will be on her second set of neurologists soon is orders of magnitude beyond where I was at her age. And yet, I still can't imagine anything close to a decent life for either of them. I'm sure this is just me projecting, and by no means do I spend time worrying about their futures. Ain't nobody got time for that mess, it's still pear season for the love of all things holy! But every time we talk about future anything, it feels like pretend.
But we found a really cool notebook at Target today. It has movable tabs, pockets, and even a spot to hold onto your pen. Plus I got a couple of nifty D ring binders for my homeschool schnazz. Still hate homeschool, still love school supplies. Oh, and when we got there, they hadn't even popped the popcorn yet so Sasha didn't have to wear her mask. Double Bonus. Triple bonus, my new organizational paradigm arrives Wednesday.
Friday, October 9, 2015
20 cent October (pair of dimes)
So, I need a moderately convenient way to keep two paper migraine journals, because that's how UCSF rolls. The three different apps on my phone are obnoxious enough, but at least they keep mine, Sasha's, and Emily's separate. And truth be told, I haven't used it for Sasha in a million years because there is no point currently. However, Sasha has two paper migraine journals. Now Emily is going to have the app as well as the UCSF journal, since she started getting abdominal migraines again, and until we actually can get to UCSF, I may as well start getting used to their journaling for her as well as Sasha. Actually, we'll be using those for the foreseeable future.
Fuck. I don't want to carry around a clipboard. Those stupid things are a full sheet of paper each. UCSF is the best place I've ever been to, but their migraine journals suck. First of all, they need to be electronic because IT'S THE YEAR TWO THOUSAND FIFTEEN. Second, I already carry a backpack for everyone's emergency meds, emergency food and water, emergency hats and shades etc., I don't want a bigger one for our flipping migraine journals as well.
There is no pinterest for us. Actually, maybe there is, I just haven't looked. Quick, someone see if there's a pinterest for how to keep all your paper migraine journals and emergency food and meds handy and organized.
I'm afraid I need a new backpack organizational paradigm. Swear swear swear swear swear. Oh wait, undetectable extension charm!!! Shoot, never mind. Blagh. I need...something. You know, Tom Bihn, maker of all things svelte in the bag and organizational department, probably has exactly what I need. *sigh* It'll just cost. But everything costs.
Dear Jesus, please bless us with unlimited energy, health, and money. Amen.
You know, someday I would like to carry a pretty purse, play music, and purchase and wear clothes beside the same jeans and t-shirts I've been wearing for untold years now. Not that I'm upset about my awesome backpack (which i LOVE!!!) or my clothes, but I do miss the music. And the interaction with grown-ups about other stuff beside illness. But I do enjoy the feeling of badassery that comes with canning and preserving food, and surviving the massive shitstorm that is our life. I mean, mainly it sucks missing everything and not talking to friends and family and feeling misunderstood and writing letter after letter and blog after blog about the same thing, but thankfully, we are not without triumph.
Well, I've gotta go pickup some homeschool curriculum, and blow money on a new organizational paradigm. Then of course there is more food prep to do since I'm always behind, this week due to lovely hormone migraine. Change And Let Go, my favorite invisible tattoo is always there to help me roll with it. I Lack Nothing has been less helpful these days, but we're still here I guess. It's probably good I have both, if for nothing else than balance and symmetry. Hah, at least my invisible tattoos are balanced, if nothing else in my life is!
Fuck. I don't want to carry around a clipboard. Those stupid things are a full sheet of paper each. UCSF is the best place I've ever been to, but their migraine journals suck. First of all, they need to be electronic because IT'S THE YEAR TWO THOUSAND FIFTEEN. Second, I already carry a backpack for everyone's emergency meds, emergency food and water, emergency hats and shades etc., I don't want a bigger one for our flipping migraine journals as well.
There is no pinterest for us. Actually, maybe there is, I just haven't looked. Quick, someone see if there's a pinterest for how to keep all your paper migraine journals and emergency food and meds handy and organized.
I'm afraid I need a new backpack organizational paradigm. Swear swear swear swear swear. Oh wait, undetectable extension charm!!! Shoot, never mind. Blagh. I need...something. You know, Tom Bihn, maker of all things svelte in the bag and organizational department, probably has exactly what I need. *sigh* It'll just cost. But everything costs.
Dear Jesus, please bless us with unlimited energy, health, and money. Amen.
You know, someday I would like to carry a pretty purse, play music, and purchase and wear clothes beside the same jeans and t-shirts I've been wearing for untold years now. Not that I'm upset about my awesome backpack (which i LOVE!!!) or my clothes, but I do miss the music. And the interaction with grown-ups about other stuff beside illness. But I do enjoy the feeling of badassery that comes with canning and preserving food, and surviving the massive shitstorm that is our life. I mean, mainly it sucks missing everything and not talking to friends and family and feeling misunderstood and writing letter after letter and blog after blog about the same thing, but thankfully, we are not without triumph.
Well, I've gotta go pickup some homeschool curriculum, and blow money on a new organizational paradigm. Then of course there is more food prep to do since I'm always behind, this week due to lovely hormone migraine. Change And Let Go, my favorite invisible tattoo is always there to help me roll with it. I Lack Nothing has been less helpful these days, but we're still here I guess. It's probably good I have both, if for nothing else than balance and symmetry. Hah, at least my invisible tattoos are balanced, if nothing else in my life is!
Saturday, September 26, 2015
Remember Sucktember
Something happened. Looking back on my migraine journal and blog, I now recall why the phrase Sucktember comes to mind. We here on the central coast enjoy a late summer, basically as soon as real summer starts winding down into fall BAM! And we have gotten hammered this year with heat and fluctuating barometric pressure. My physical therapist specializes in foot, neck and head pain, which is something you can't even do in other parts of the country! It seems we are specialized for head pain, my body is specialized for head pain, and this is the annual month of reckoning, progress be damned.
I had been making great progress since April, typically another arch enemy month. But somewhere between starting homeschool in earnest, learning to can pears, and Sasha tanking, I went from 7 total rescue med days last month to 11 so far this month, the last 4 consecutive. 4 consecutive rescue med days hasn't happened since June, during hormone week when I spent two of those days staring at the great glowing orb above me in the dentist chair, and before that it hadn't happened since February. *string of highly creative expletives*
Pear season is short, gotta can pears for the year. Sasha's new neurologist appointment is Monday, gotta fill out all the appropriate paperwork for that, plan and pack all the food water and meds, and deal with the aftermath of the drive there and back plus the skipped nap. *more expletives* At least the appointment is still a go after the *expletiving* time spent on the phone working out the insurance mix-up. But oh my god, now we are SERIOUSLY homeschooling, and I, COULD, NOT, HATE, HOMESCHOOL, MORE. It is a toxic energy suck. Don't get me wrong, I love education and educating. And boy, does Sasha love learning! Bonus, the homeschool group or whatever I'm using is super supportive and amazing and helpful and wonderful. But [creative expletiving] do we ever not have the health and well-being for it at present. It's just a fucking never-ending nightmare. We need to stop getting migraines to be able to do school PLUS the stupid amounts of food prep required for Sasha's survival! Maybe Monday's appointment will bring the magic bullet that cures my baby...or at least the magic car crash that cures all our ills?
Assuming we don't meet our maker, Sucktember will end and hopefully beyond hope, we can start anew in Rocktober. But if Craptober awaits, then maybe I'll try to grow a moustache in Movember and we'll just take it from there. Maybe Sasha doesn't need to go to first grade at all. Maybe I'm not entirely convinced she's going to survive childhood or have a "productive" adulthood even if she does make it. Probably I should just work on getting her DogLand stories marketed and into print, and put the money away for her so she doesn't die unemployed, homeless, and in pain. So maybe I'll get on that after zucchini season ends and pear season ends. #DogLand2016, assuming survival readygo!
I had been making great progress since April, typically another arch enemy month. But somewhere between starting homeschool in earnest, learning to can pears, and Sasha tanking, I went from 7 total rescue med days last month to 11 so far this month, the last 4 consecutive. 4 consecutive rescue med days hasn't happened since June, during hormone week when I spent two of those days staring at the great glowing orb above me in the dentist chair, and before that it hadn't happened since February. *string of highly creative expletives*
Pear season is short, gotta can pears for the year. Sasha's new neurologist appointment is Monday, gotta fill out all the appropriate paperwork for that, plan and pack all the food water and meds, and deal with the aftermath of the drive there and back plus the skipped nap. *more expletives* At least the appointment is still a go after the *expletiving* time spent on the phone working out the insurance mix-up. But oh my god, now we are SERIOUSLY homeschooling, and I, COULD, NOT, HATE, HOMESCHOOL, MORE. It is a toxic energy suck. Don't get me wrong, I love education and educating. And boy, does Sasha love learning! Bonus, the homeschool group or whatever I'm using is super supportive and amazing and helpful and wonderful. But [creative expletiving] do we ever not have the health and well-being for it at present. It's just a fucking never-ending nightmare. We need to stop getting migraines to be able to do school PLUS the stupid amounts of food prep required for Sasha's survival! Maybe Monday's appointment will bring the magic bullet that cures my baby...or at least the magic car crash that cures all our ills?
Assuming we don't meet our maker, Sucktember will end and hopefully beyond hope, we can start anew in Rocktober. But if Craptober awaits, then maybe I'll try to grow a moustache in Movember and we'll just take it from there. Maybe Sasha doesn't need to go to first grade at all. Maybe I'm not entirely convinced she's going to survive childhood or have a "productive" adulthood even if she does make it. Probably I should just work on getting her DogLand stories marketed and into print, and put the money away for her so she doesn't die unemployed, homeless, and in pain. So maybe I'll get on that after zucchini season ends and pear season ends. #DogLand2016, assuming survival readygo!
Thursday, September 17, 2015
Several Cans
Homeschooling is kicking my ass. Sasha's a great student and apparently I'm a decent teacher. But it takes energy.
Canning pears is kicking my ass. It's not...difficult, but it is meticulous and time-consuming and exact and hot. And it also takes energy.
We should have enough dried zucchini chips soon. 68 half-gallon jars isn't quite enough to get us to next zucchini season, but it's getting close, assuming all our math is correct. Not bad for dehydrating since the middle of June. I wonder how many hours of work that accounts for? Thankfully my mom is the peeling queen. (cue ABBA)
Sasha needs to stop getting migraines. I'm waiting on a transfer to a pediatric headache specialist. [read:Sasha's 3d neurologist, more paperwork] I'd like Sasha to be able to eat more food, sure. But technically she has food to eat, be it stupid limited, stupid expensive, and completely unreasonable to procure. However, she NEEDS to stop getting migraines. It's killing me. Thankfully she still plays and reads and eats and pees and poops. But it's absofuckinglutely killing me, because I have to deal with her and take care of her and give[make] her meds and train her to deal with pain and how to relax and meditate and do occasional vomit cleanup etc., quite often with a migraine myself. We are all going to die if she doesn't stop getting migraines.
And now between homeschool (which I honestly hate because it takes all my energy away) and food prep, I'm climbing back up the migraine ladder again. So I added a new med, we'll see if it helps.
I want Sasha to stop getting migraines and to be able to attend school. Then my limited energy can go toward growing/preserving food/trying to remember what it's like to be a human being. Assuming I have to homeschool her for this entire year and I somehow DON'T get a household staff of any number, I don't see how we are going to come away from this in any sort of good way. Everything costs more time and money and energy than I currently have.
I have a really hard time half-assing things, and there's too much accountability to half-ass school anyway.
We absolutely cannot half-ass food, or Sasha literally will not eat.
I haven't been to pilates in two weeks and I don't see my self going back until pear season is over at the earliest, which sucks and will only NOT help, but something's gotta give and I can't half-ass school or food.
So that's it. One of us has got to stop getting migraines and achieve neuro-typical functionality. That is the only logical answer. <Readygo>
Canning pears is kicking my ass. It's not...difficult, but it is meticulous and time-consuming and exact and hot. And it also takes energy.
We should have enough dried zucchini chips soon. 68 half-gallon jars isn't quite enough to get us to next zucchini season, but it's getting close, assuming all our math is correct. Not bad for dehydrating since the middle of June. I wonder how many hours of work that accounts for? Thankfully my mom is the peeling queen. (cue ABBA)
Sasha needs to stop getting migraines. I'm waiting on a transfer to a pediatric headache specialist. [read:Sasha's 3d neurologist, more paperwork] I'd like Sasha to be able to eat more food, sure. But technically she has food to eat, be it stupid limited, stupid expensive, and completely unreasonable to procure. However, she NEEDS to stop getting migraines. It's killing me. Thankfully she still plays and reads and eats and pees and poops. But it's absofuckinglutely killing me, because I have to deal with her and take care of her and give[make] her meds and train her to deal with pain and how to relax and meditate and do occasional vomit cleanup etc., quite often with a migraine myself. We are all going to die if she doesn't stop getting migraines.
And now between homeschool (which I honestly hate because it takes all my energy away) and food prep, I'm climbing back up the migraine ladder again. So I added a new med, we'll see if it helps.
I want Sasha to stop getting migraines and to be able to attend school. Then my limited energy can go toward growing/preserving food/trying to remember what it's like to be a human being. Assuming I have to homeschool her for this entire year and I somehow DON'T get a household staff of any number, I don't see how we are going to come away from this in any sort of good way. Everything costs more time and money and energy than I currently have.
I have a really hard time half-assing things, and there's too much accountability to half-ass school anyway.
We absolutely cannot half-ass food, or Sasha literally will not eat.
I haven't been to pilates in two weeks and I don't see my self going back until pear season is over at the earliest, which sucks and will only NOT help, but something's gotta give and I can't half-ass school or food.
So that's it. One of us has got to stop getting migraines and achieve neuro-typical functionality. That is the only logical answer. <Readygo>
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