::::yawn:::::

I'm exhausted, but I'm feeling very hopeful. I've had more of that relentless forward progress happening since I last blogged.

Are you ready for this?

The garage and the back porch are.....empty.

Ok. Maybe not entirely, but enough that the builder was 'flabbergasted' that I had gotten as far as I have with it. So now we're finally in the planning stage!!

There are still a couple of things in the garage. The big plywood fireplace that we bring into the house every year to hang stockings on at Christmas is out there, the spare refrigerator that we keep water and eggs from the backyard chickens is in there, and there's a bedroom set that we've got to get into Scooter's bedroom. The grill is still on the porch, as is the porch swing and a table. I'll be selling the table, but we're keeping the swing and the grill, so they'll just need to be moved out of the way when the time comes. Oh. yeah. There's also a barrel on the porch that has camp chairs in it. I'm not sure where I'll be storing those until we use them, but they have to be washed at the car wash before I put them away until we use them again.

Considering that the porch was completely covered and the garage was full top to bottom, side to side, and end to end, I'm feeling pretty good about it. I've sold several things and made a few hundred dollars. Hubster took the bath surround we'd bought a few years ago back to the big box store. Thankfully, it was still in stock, so he was able to return it. We now have a credit to be used toward the renovations we'll be doing, so that will be handy.

I can't even imagine how many hundreds, (thousands?) of pounds of stuff has been thrown away! There's been some stuff donated, as well, but for the most part the stuff has gone to the trash. I've kept some stuff to look through later, because I just couldn't think clearly enough to make any more decisions about it at the time. I think that what I actually kept was only between 10-15% of the total that was out there. That total will go down, as I have the time to sort through it all when I'm thinking more clearly.

I'm having problems deciding whether or not to keep the stuff we'd gotten to redo the bathroom years ago, or if I should sell it and go a different route. The toilet and sink are a matched set, and I love the look of them, but the toilet is just a typical height. We're so used to the taller toilets that I don't know, if we should keep that one...I'm wondering, if it would be a fall risk for Hubster, since it's shorter. We're also wondering, if it would be better to have a small vanity in there instead of the pedestal sink that matches the toilet. We'd be able to put a reverse osmosis machine in a cabinet, which would allow access to purified water without having to go upstairs. Granted, we wouldn't have any storage, but we've gone all these years without it that I don't know, if it would matter, anyway. I could always hang some cute baskets on the walls for storage, so there are options.

Decisions must be made, but the fibro fog is thick, and it is so hard to think clearly.

I think I need sleep.

It's gonna be a challenge.

Our home isn't all that large. It seems even smaller now that Hubster struggles with walking in tight spaces due to the Parkinson's. Even without the Parkinson's it's small. We can't open the dishwasher and oven door at the same time, because they'd hit one another. They're on opposite walls. Like I said. Small. 

Don't get me wrong. We love our house. It's our home. It will be our one and only home. We just want it to be a little more user friendly when the eventuality comes that Hubster will need a wheelchair. It is likely years away, but it will come. And we know from experience that our house is not built for someone in a wheelchair to get around. When Hopper broke her leg a few years ago, I thought we were all going insane from the lack of space!

We had a couple of major hail storms this year that tossed baseball-sized hail at our roof and patio cover. It destroyed them both, so they both will need replaced. The problem is that the roof on patio is entirely too small. Originally, there had been a brick planter all the way around, but the roof didn't extend over them. Now that the planters are gone, the patio looks like it's been the butt of a summer camp prank and has been short sheeted. Unfortunately, we can't replace the patio roof with a size large enough to cover the pad without new concrete being poured and a new structure being built.

We've also always wanted to convert the garage into living space, (think bigger kitchen and bigger living room), but we never even thought it was a possibility. It certainly isn't big enough for a car. Ok. Maybe a small car would fit in it, but there's no way an SUV or van would fit, and I don't see us getting by without one or the other. Come to think of it, I suppose the possibility existed, but the money to make it happen didn't exist, so we really didn't know when, how, or if it could ever happen, let alone get a carport.

We didn't want a little flimsy aluminum one that would blow into our neighbor's backyard with the smallest gust of wind, but a permanent carport that would protect the car from the hail, heat, snow, and ice. The thought of not having to shovel snow from the driveway seems to good to be true, let alone the safety factor. Where both Hubster and Scooter are at greater risk for falls, the thought of a driveway free of ice sounds beyond amazing! 

All of these renovations have been nothing but far-off dreams for years. Until now. We just found out that Hubster's disability claim was awarded, so we will be signing loan paperwork to get started on all of it in the next few days! We are super excited and can't wait for the additions to our home to be complete!

The flip side of things is that it's a lot of work. The garage is full. It's not as full as it used to be, because we have worked on paring down quite a bit, but there is still a massive amount of stuff out there. My mission, if I choose to accept it, is to get rid of every. single. thing. in the garage and on the porch. Once they pull the walls from the kitchen and living room down, any mouse or spider that currently resides in the garage will have free access to the house. If we get rid of everything out there, they won't have a place to hide, and we'll be able to eradicate each of them before the wall comes down. 

Totally worth it. 

This mission is going to be difficult, there's no doubt, but guess who's up for the job? That's right! I'm ready to put in the work to reap the rewards of a bigger, more comfortable home. I'm finding that dehoarding decisions are coming easier now that there's a real goal in mind, so I'm just going to go in each day that I work out there with the renovations in mind. 

This mission may be difficult, it may be a herculean challenge, but it is not impossible. 

I accept.

I'll Take "A Side of Frozen Claustrophobia in Limbo Land" for the win, Alex.

Christmas came late this year for us. Or really early. I guess it depends on how you look at it. We were all finally feeling well enough to celebrate Christmas in mid-February. We still have our tree up, because we have to get a couple of pictures of Baby Bug with some cute little paintings we made for her parents with her hand and footprints. It will be good to get the tree down soon. I'm starting to feel claustrophobic. We will have Baby Bug over tomorrow, so we will get it down this weekend.

The bad thing is that I've been feeling a bit more claustrophobic in the house lately. 

The good thing is that I've been feeling a bit more claustrophobic in the house lately.

As much as I hate the discomfort of the feeling, it always leads to a surge of dehoarding, and I'm really beyond wanting to get it done! However, I'm far enough behind again that I'm feeling frozen. I just need to get moving. Once I do, I'll thaw out a bit and will start accomplishing things again. So tonight, I will make a master list of things that need to be done in the near future and another list for the not-so-distant future. Lists always make me feel better, because I feel like I know where to start. It gives me a visual of what I've accomplished when I mark something off the list. And yes. I've been known to add something I've accomplished to the list after I've done it. It's still a record, and it helps.

Hubster's Parkinson's has left him exhausted all the time. It doesn't help that we have been sick more often than not since October and had to cancel Christmas week after week after week. But now that we're all feeling better, I need to kick it into gear. It's so easy to let his exhaustion be contagious, but I can't afford to do that. 

I need to propel myself out of the Land of Limbo. 

Size Matters.

::::blink::::

::::blink::::

::::blink::::

The cursor mocks me while I sit here trying to figure out where to begin. . .

I'm ready to get really busy dehoarding again. And I'm ready to start blogging about it again, because I find I hold myself more accountable when I do. I feel like I have more control over things. And I've got to take the control back from the things that have been controlling me, so I'm back. 

Don't get me wrong. I haven't relapsed to the point of no return. My house is not overflowing to the point it once was, but it's definitely not where I want it to be. I've just been...busy. For the last year. A Baby Bug does that to grandparents, and I'm not complaining! I just have to readjust my focus a little. And I did that today...

For our 16th wedding anniversary, we bought our first bedroom set. Before that we had a hodge podge of furniture that didn't match, and we made due. And after 16 years of marriage, we decided to take the plunge and buy a bedroom set. And the bedroom set is gorgeous! We had seen several beds that we liked while we were out shopping, but when we turned the corner and saw the one we bought, we both gasped audibly. We'd never had an experience quite like that before. We knew this was our set. 

The bed is what sold us. It's a gorgeous 4 poster canopy bed. Instead of the canopy going in a square around the bed, this canopy has all sorts of pretty metal curls that meet up in the center of the bed. It's an absolutely stunning mix of gorgeous oak and metal work with posts that are a good 6" in diameter at the largest. Just. Stunning.

At the time we went shopping for it 15 years ago, Hubster wanted to try a king-size bed, because we'd always had queens up until then. And we've had a love/hate relationship with the size ever since. We like that fact that we both have room to stretch out, but we both hate that we have to climb over a hump in the middle of the bed in order to reach one another. It makes any sort of snuggling difficult. More than anything else it takes up an awful lot of room in our traditional, small bedroom. 

And its size makes it really hard to maneuver around. Especially for Hubster. The Parkinson's has made us realize that we have to rethink how we go forward. For instance, we won't be using glass shower doors after all. We had gotten some for both our bathtub and for our shower, but now we can't use them. They're not a really good idea for someone who has balance issues, and Parkinson's causes balance issues. So we will need to sell them. Besides that, it looks like we may need to combine the two bathrooms into one. Neither of them is really conducive to free movement, and free movement is necessary. 

Which brings me back to our bedroom set. 

We made the very difficult decision today to get rid of it. 

::::2 points for making a hard dehoarding decision::::

Go us!

It's going to take some time to make it all happen. We will need to do a complete dehoarding of our bedroom first. The bedroom itself isn't too bad, but you don't even want to see the closet! (Well, maybe you do, but I don't know that I'm going to show you). And we need to do a major purge of clothes that we will never. ever. wear. no. matter. what. size. we. are. We are giving ourselves permission to put ourselves and our future first. 

And our future looks amazing!

Time changes everything.

They say that time changes everything, but it's always been a bit of a paradox to me. It rushes. It stands still. It messes with your memory but also firms up those magical moments in your life and allows you to reminisce about them as though they happened yesterday. 

I have a lot of those magical moments in my life. Some are amazing memories: Meeting Hubster for the first time. Getting married. Almost passing out at the amazing news we were expecting Bugster and then welcoming her just a few months later. Anticipating Hopper's arrival. Opening the best birthday gift I've ever received when having Scooter. Some are just plain awful. And while there's no need for me to remember them just to write them in a blog post, I will keep them tucked away. They are a part of me. 

I will instead just focus on those wonderful, magical memories that I've been so very blessed to have. I'm able to open them over and over again and live the days like they just happened. And there's one in particular that I will enjoy reliving time and time again.

It was when I finally got to meet Baby Bug...our precious little granddaughter...

Bugster had been fighting high blood pressure the last week or so of her pregnancy. She wasn't bedridden, but if it didn't come down right away by lying down, she needed to go in for a BP check. She took her blood pressure multiple times a day with a little wrist cuff, and it always went down when she rested on her side until the day it didn't. So she packed her bag for the hospital. (I know. She should have had it done. But it always seems like "The Day" is never actually going to arrive, and when it comes a week before you're planning on it, it catches you unaware). So she and Bubster headed out to the hospital. 

My mom, who had flown down to be here for her newest great-granddaughter's arrival, and I decided we'd better get that last coat of paint on the nursery room walls while we still could. (Frank finally moved out about 10 days prior, and there's no way Bugster could do any of the cleaning, let alone the painting in her condition). I was just putting the finishing touches of soft pink paint in the closet when Bugster called. 

She was crying.  

Bubster had run down to the cafeteria to get them something to eat really quick when the doctor came in and told her that they needed to induce her. And even though she was expecting it, it took her off guard to hear it while she was alone. And all of her pent up emotions that had been carefully held in check for 9 months rose to the surface during the phone call. I don't think she was scared as much as she just wasn't quite mentally prepared. But by the time the phone call was over, she was ready to get the show on the road.

So we packed up and headed out, too. We ran home, (had Calamity, who was supposed to be helping us paint but settled for keeping us company, follow us to our house, so she could follow us to the hospital), changed clothes, and waited for our friend to head over to watch the girls for us. It felt like time stood still, went in slow motion, and whizzed past us all during that half hour. It's amazing how you can almost see time in instances like that. 

We stayed at the hospital for a couple of hours and left when Bugster asked us all to clear out. Her main intent was to get Calamity to go home, and she wouldn't leave, if we didn't. The last thing we needed was to stick around and have Bugster's blood pressure rise, so we went home and relieved our friend who was watching the girls. We watched tv for a bit, called to say goodnight to Bugster, and went to bed. I wondered about the sanity of crawling into bed at the time, but Bugster assured us that she was doing fine, and there wasn't anything else to do.

The moment I actually drifted off to the Land of Slumber, the phone rang. It was Bugster. She was crying again. They had given her the medicine to start the induction. It was given in the hope that she wouldn't need pitocin. And it had kicked in. Hard. Like Transition Hard. And she was alone. Bubster had run home to get some creature comforts for his overnight stay and to feed the cats. She had told him to go but regretted it the moment the contractions took over. 

Her blood pressure was rising even more, and it was time to make a decision. She could choose to try an epidural to keep her blood pressure down, or she could opt for magnesium. Neither was her first choice, but the natural birth she had wanted wasn't going to happen. She decided to give the epidural a chance, since the pain was causing her blood pressure to rise. 

By the time Hubster and I made it to the hospital, (we left my mom with the girls, because we couldn't get ahold of our friend to sit with them again. She'd absentmindedly turned the ringer off on her phone.), Bubster was back at the hospital, the epidural was in place, and Bugster seemed at peace and out of pain. 

Hubster took advantage of the quiet of the waiting room at 1:00 in the morning to read and snooze, while I waited in Bugster's room waiting for the dragging time to quicken a bit, visited quietly with the doula and hit the pain pump for Bugster's epidural when she grimaced in her sleep. I wanted her to be as comfortable as possible. I knew what was coming. She didn't.

When the nurse came in to check her progress a few hours later, everyone was shocked to find that Bugster was ready to go! The medicine had done it's job, and the epidural allowed her to sleep through every bit of labor! Time went into warp speed again. I woke Hubster up, so he could go get Mom, called our friend, who had since turned her ringer back on, and waited impatiently for them to get back to the hospital. They were just in time. Hubster and Mom came in to give Bugster a quick hug and tell her she was going to do great and headed back out to the waiting room. 

What seemed like moments later, a doctor came running from across the ward behind them. He yelled out asking the nurses where he needed to go. Hubster immediately recognized it as Bugster's room, and I know time had to have absolutely dragged for them while waiting for news. In the meantime, we were stuck in this time warp, where poor Bugster had to wait for the doctor to come in. Baby Bug could wait no longer to make her appearance. The doctor no sooner donned his paper gown than she appeared.

She was beautiful. She had a headful of downy black hair. And she wasn't moving or crying like she should. Time stood completely still, as I reassured Bugster that she had done an amazing job and listened to her and Bubster talk about how alert and beautiful and quiet their little girl was. I'm glad they got to see her look at them. I'm glad they had that special moment with one another, because what I saw was not as encouraging, and time stood perfectly still, in spite of the clock on the wall ticking above the noise of the nurses working on the baby.

I realized I was holding my breath. I needed to hear everything. I needed to hear her little cries. And my breathing was much too loud. And time stopped in its tracks. Moments later, we heard those beautiful little mewls that newborns make. And those beautiful little mewls turned into even more amazing little cries. And then she came over to meet her mommy and daddy for real. 

And she was breathtaking.

She IS breathtaking. 

She takes my breath away every time I see her. 

Every time I hold her. 

Every time I think of her. 

And time ceases. 

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend. It's Getting Cold In Here Again.

Our kitchen is small. Like postage stamp sized small. We have only the cupboard under the sink and one tiny side cupboard that make up the bottom bank of cabinets. The top cabinets include one double cabinet over the island, (that holds the tiny side cupboard and the dishwasher), a regular size cabinet to the left of the sink, 2 small cabinets that share the corner to the right of the sink, and a bank of small baskets that go above the stove and refrigerator. Did I mention it's small?

There is no pantry. We have a shelf pot rack hung on the wall to hang our pots and pans when not in use, a baker's rack that holds the microwave oven and some small appliances in the cupboard underneath, and a big hotel armoire with four large drawers as storage. We call the armoire the "pantry" just as a way to identify it to one another. And while it holds quite a bit, it really is not nearly as convenient as a walk in pantry would be. One day, I hope that we can build one just off the kitchen in the garage. If we ever do, I would ensure it was large enough to hold a spare refrigerator, all of the small appliances that are in the laundry room, because we don't use them that often, so they haven't made the list to stay upstairs, and the upright freezer we have downstairs. 

Because, let's face it. It's not convenient to have the freezer downstairs. It's also not convenient to have to go down there to get extra paper towels, the waffle iron, or the syrup, and it makes putting groceries away great fun. We definitely get our exercise when we're unpacking the car and putting the frozen stuff away. 

But that is our situation for the foreseeable future, and we'll deal with it. We are actually very, very thankful that we have that extra storage space, and I am not complaining. Just explaining. 

So the other night, I asked Hopper to run downstairs and get the last of the pizzas that were in the freezer. We'd gotten some when we'd gone shopping a few weeks ago, and there were 2 left, and they were going to be supper. We had just stocked up on a few more necessities the other day, so the freezer was full, so I asked Hopper to make sure she closed the freezer well. When she came upstairs, she said that she had, so I popped the pizzas in the oven and forgot about it. 

Yesterday morning, I went to the laundry room to start a load of clothes. I was in my stocking feet, which is abnormal, because I'm wearing shoes 95% of the time I'm awake. But certain shoes throw me a little bit off balance on the stairs, so I kicked them off before I headed down. And I'd barely stepped into the laundry room, when my foot was soaking wet. The freezer was defrosting all over the floor. 

:::le sigh:::

The freezer had been open since the night before, when Hopper got the pizzas out. I know I should have checked on it, but there are some nights that I just need a little break, and that night, those stairs seemed so incredibly long, and I took the easy way out. I needed a break right then. It's probably good I got it when I did, because I've been working on the freezer in my spare time since then!

I can't get mad at Hopper. She did the best she could, and she often says, "no" when she means yes, and vice versa. It's on me. And instead of beating myself up over it, I've decided to just be thankful that the freezer will be clean, and I'll be able to organize it and keep it clean, to prevent this from happening again.

I realized that Hopper had pulled one of the drawers out and then couldn't get it pushed back in all the way, which made the door hinges appear to have been sprung. And as handy as I thought it would be to have drawers in the freezer, they haven't been that great. Then again, we probably haven't implemented them in quite the way they were intended. We've used them to store the frozen goodies from the garden, and come to think of it, the freezer packs that Hubster used to use in his cooler for lunch were in there, as well. I think that they just weighed the drawers down to much to allow them to move freely. So once we stock up on groceries again, I'll make sure that nothing heavy goes in either drawer. 

I've already found a short box that I can stand the freezer packs in that is going to work perfectly to help keep things organized and still allow us to access them easily. 

Don't worry. It's on a shelf. 

I've learned my lesson.

When we go get the groceries to fill the freezer again, I'll have Hopper help me put them away. Hopefully, I can make it a learning opportunity and explain that she can't move things around or pull the drawers out, because we always need to make sure the door closes completely. If need be, we'll start locking it, so she can't get in and rearrange things. 

If all else fails, there is an alarm on the freezer, to let us know, if the door has been left open, but it has a major design flaw. . .

We have to remember to turn it on. 

Life Exploded Again.

I can't believe 2015 is over halfway finished, and this is my first blog post of the year. It isn't because I haven't been working on the hoard. I have. It has to do with life getting the better of me and knowing something had to go on the back burner, or I'd end up burning everything!

For the last several months, we've been working on the yard. The poor landscaper is still finding elm trees, in spite of having removed hundreds of thousands of them already. What? So what if there weren't actually hundreds of thousands of those stupid things? What if it just seemed like there were hundreds of thousands of the stupid things, because we hate them so much? I'm just so glad to be rid of every single one of them!

Our yard looks huge without the trees, and it's starting to take shape. The fence in the backyard was finally finished yesterday. They still have to paint the front fence, though. And I think we may actually be to the point where the sprinkler system, sod and stone will all be finished soon! It's going to be wonderful to spend time in our little backyard oasis, and it couldn't have come at a better time.

The last several months, Hubster has been struggling with his health. His hand began to tremor. Then his leg did. He'd stumble from time to time. He had to concentrate to walk, so he didn't appear drunk. He was exhausted all the time but couldn't sleep. And he was so weak, he said he felt at times his legs didn't have the strength to hold up the weight of his body.

We got official word yesterday that Hubster has early stage Parkinson's Disease.

Of course we are devastated, but we will handle this like we handle everything: as a team. We will meet it head-on, and we will fight it hard. He starts his first meds today, and we are praying they work well to help him feel more himself.

In the meantime, I will be trying to find time to blog again. Writing is therapeutic, and I'm thinking I may need a little therapy...

Wonderful Surreality

If anyone had asked me to imagine how much our lives would change as a result of becoming a CNA, I don't know that I could have done it justice. I know I knew that our lives would change. I just didn't know how different things would look.

I passed my state CNA exam without a problem back in October. I'd been pretty nervous leading up to it. I let nerves get the best of me and would mess up during practice sessions. I was a wreck! But the morning of the test I was able to have some quiet time with the Lord and relax a bit. I realized I had the stuff down, and I ended up being more nervous for the gal who tested with me than for myself. I had to laugh at how anticlimactic it was when I was finally done. I'd definitely worked it up to more in my mind than it actually was. I was just very thankful that I'd put in the time to practice, so I had no problem with the test.

I'd been hired a few days before my state exam, and that was a completely different reality for me! I hadn't even seen an employment application in decades, let alone actually filled one out! I went through a plethora of emotion during the process. It was like I was seeing the ocean again for the very first time...shock at the enormity of it all, stunned by the wonder, and in awe that it actually existed. And that was nothing compared to what was yet to come.

Hopper had her surgery the end of October, and it was indeed life-changing. Not only is she doing much better physically, but it has made such an incredible difference in her attitude, anxiety, and mood! We knew that a lot of her anxiety stemmed from having the surgery hanging over her head for the last 8 years, but we didn't realize how much of it came from that. She's like a different person. Well, not a different person, but a better version of her self. Like she was before she had this surgery hanging over her head. She's happier, more silly, loving to joke around, loving to laugh, and much more relaxed. It's like we have the Hopper we used to know back. It's been wonderful to see what a huge change this surgery has meant for her!

Scooter had her surgery a couple weeks ago. She's healing up much better than expected, and she is so glad to have it in the past. She's also thrilled with what it will mean for her future, so she's a happy little camper! She dances around the house all the time now, and it's wonderful to see! She's a bit bummed this morning, because Hopper finally got to go back to work today, and she has to wait until Monday, but I'm anxious to see her dance moves then!

Besides the surgeries, the thing that has had the biggest effect on our lives is my job. Because I get so many hours per week between the two girls, I'm making more than Hubster did. We knew that we no longer needed to rely on the extra cash that being on call provided, so we knew that a job change was coming. He put in his notice, so he'd be done when he came back from the vacation days he took for Hopper's surgery. Little did we know that they decided to just move the date up for his departure without telling him, so it was a bit of a surprise when he found out he didn't have to go back in for those last few days of work.

And I can't tell you how wonderful it's been to have him home! He's going to look for another job after the first of the year. It may be full-time. It might be part-time. But it will not involve call. At all. We've had too many holiday celebrations interrupted when his pager went off, and he'd have to leave. He put in his time. He was on call 5 to 7 days each week for the last 17.5 years. So it has been a dream to have him home so much, and we've really seen the positive difference it's made on the girls. On all of us, really. We're all much more relaxed. And happy. Definitely happy!

Once Scooter goes back to work next week, we'll both be working on dehoarding together. We'll work on the stuff on the back porch and in the garage and try to get it done as quickly as possible. Then what's left will be more manageable. I still have to finish the study, (the only room left on the main floor than needs done), and then I'll work in the basement and try to get it finished up.

We finally see a light at the end of the tunnel, and this time, it isn't a train!

We feel so incredibly blessed and we are beyond grateful. I thank God for His mercy!

May you each have a blessed Thanksgiving!

That Took Stones.

So tired. It's been quite the week, but I am grateful beyond words. Hubster went in for gallbladder surgery on Thursday.  It was only supposed to have been a 45 minute surgery, but we'll get back to that in a sec.

This was Hubster's first surgery ever. And he was a bit nervous. He wasn't nervous about the pain. He wasn't nervous about how it would turn out. But he's a bit on the claustrophobic side after a near-drowning incident years ago, and the thought of being intubated was concerning him. He was afraid he'd wake up with the breathing tube down his throat and become violent, if he panicked.  He didn't want to hurt anyone.

Thankfully, the anesthesiologist assured him that he'd make sure Hubster was completely asleep before placing the tube and still asleep when he removed it. By the time he was headed back, Hubster was feeling good about the surgery and just ready to get it done. I felt much better about all of it myself and prepared myself to wait.

While The nurse was escorting me back to the waiting room, I confirmed that the surgery should last 45 minutes or so. She said it was, but if I wanted to get anything to eat or drink at the cafeteria, I should go now and probably be back in 20 to 25 minutes, so I didn't miss the doctor coming out to talk to me. So I ran to the bathroom and proceeded through the maze to the cafeteria in the hospital next door.

Of course, the cafeteria was closed, so I got a couple bucks out of my purse and grabbed a breakfast bar and some peanuts out of the vending machine. They were the only thing that had any potential nutritional value in them, but I needed something. I called his folks to let them know he'd gone in and headed back, stopping at a little book sale they were having at the hospital. I found a couple things for the girls, called Mom to let her know he'd gone in and went back to the waiting room.

A good 45 minutes had gone by while sitting there, and I still hadn't heard from the surgeon, so I asked the receptionist, if she could see, if I'd missed talking to the doctor. I figured I'd been gone for at least 25 minutes, so I thought I'd just missed the doc.  The receptionist came back and said that they'd gotten started late, (at 11:00), and that the surgeon said he'd be done in the next 15 minutes. I knew they hadn't started at 11:00, though, because I'd called his folks at 10:47, and that was after the restroom break, the long trek to the cafeteria, and playing with the vending machine. Clearly something wasn't right.

I sat there silently praying that he'd be alright and playing with my phone. A few minutes later, the surgeon made an appearance. He said that Hubster was doing well. He'd just talked to him, even, but his gallbladder was, and he thought for a moment to come up with the least offensive way to put it, "rotten. Just plain rotten", as he shook his head at the memory. He didn't go into much detail other than that. Told me I could see Hubster in an hour or 2, so if I needed to go anywhere, now would be the time. So I called his parents and Mom with an update and hung out until they came and got me. It's funny. That wait didn't seem nearly as long as the wait for the surgery was, yet it was half again as long. Funny how time works that way.

Thankfully, Hubster looked great when I saw him. He was very relieved the surgery was over and especially relieved he didn't have to have the big surgery instead of the laparoscopic surgery he ended up with. Apparently, his gallbladder was "very diseased", and the surgeon was struggling to get it all out. He'd actually had the nurse call the hospital to tell them to expect Hubster to be admitted.  That he was going to have to open him all the way up.  But thankfully, right after he'd had the nurse make the call, he was able to finagle the rest of the gallbladder loose.

The doc said that as diseased as his gallbladder was, Hubster had been having problems with it for years and just didn't realize it. Sounds like things could have gone badly for him, if he hadn't gotten it out when he did. I'm anxious for him to feel better. To feel what life without gut aches and pain feels like.

For life without his rolling stones.

Looking for that rainbow.

Had a bit of good news/bad news this week.

Good news: Hubster's hours are going to change again. Instead of working 12 days on, 2 days off, he'll go back to having weekends off and working 5 days a week. We can handle that. In fact, we'll really, really enjoy it! The 12 on/ 2 off schedule was a bear, and I don't know, if we would have ever gotten completely used to it. I'm glad it has come to its official end.

Bad news: Hubster has been sick the last few days. He was in pain all night long Tuesday night and ended up going to the doctor on Wednesday morning to find out what was going on. He'd been in 2 other times to talk about it, but they diagnosed him with reflux and sent him on his way. I figured a couple of months ago it was his gallbladder.

Good news: It is his gallbladder. I know. That doesn't sound like good news, but we think it is. It means there will be an end in sight for the pain he's been going through. He goes in Monday to get a referral to a surgeon and discuss his bloodwork. He's going to feel SO much better once he has the surgery! Now to get it scheduled.

Bad news: Hubster woke up with a fever yesterday and again today, so he had to miss work again. 

Good news: Hubster woke up with a fever yesterday and again today, so we have gotten to see more of him in the last few days than we have in the last month! 

Good news: Finally got the MRI done on Hopper that is required before she has surgery. 

Bad news: The person who read the MRI commented as though she's already had the surgery, and we have to get that corrected. She hasn't had surgery yet, and we don't want his mistake to keep the insurance company from approving her much needed operation!

Good news: The antibiotics the doctor put me on seem to be helping, and I'm feeling better than I have in quite awhile.

Even better news: I'm not having any sort of allergic reaction to the antibiotic. That's a nice change. 

Bad news: I have so much to do I don't know where to start.

Good news: That's not really true. I've started a list...

 

Gurgling along.

My lungs sort of sound like Snap, Crackle, and Pop are in there trying to catch the herd of frogs that crawled in there to die. Stupid wheezing. 

Scooter had a much better day today than she did yesterday. Awhile ago, Hubster got Hopper and Scooter some used field jacket liners like the one he uses all the time, because they'd steal his and wouldn't want to give it back. They love them, but the liners look so much alike, they often grab the wrong one. So for a little Valentine's surprise, I took an old scrap of fabric and went all Laverne and Shirley on them.

I made a huge heart-shaped pocket on the right side, and then I cut out the initial of their first names and sewed them on the left breast. Hubster put the little heart shaped box of candy he'd bought them in the heart pockets, and tossed in a small box of conversation hearts. We left them on the couch, so the girls would see them first thing in the morning. They were thrilled with them, and Scooter wore hers most of the day.

Scooter was in a great mood all day and 'sang' and 'danced' all morning. Because Scooter is completely nonverbal, she doesn't actually sing, but don't tell her that! When she's panting in rhythm and tapping her foot, (especially while standing!), she's singing and dancing. And she was singing, dancing, and grinning from ear to ear most of her waking hours today, which was such a nice change after yesterday!

Hopper's day didn't go quite as smoothly. She had a bit of a meltdown, and we're not exactly sure why. She had a panic attack over Hubster changing from his thick wool long johns to a lighter weight pair. We have never figured out, (other than her OCD), why his long johns and running gear set off panic attacks and meltdowns, but it absolutely kills us that we can't seem to help her. Thankfully, medication does help some, but it still doesn't prevent it completely, and it breaks our hearts. Panic attacks and anxiety are hard enough to handle when you are capable of knowing what they are. They're doubly hard when you don't understand what's happening, and that they'll eventually go away. She was fine after Hubster left for work, but I'm sad she had to go through it at all.

I'm hoping the weekend is a bit more restful for all of us, since we're fighting off this crud. We need as much rest as we can get. Hopper seems to have already seen the worst of it and is on the mend, but Scooter and I have a ways to go. 

Hopefully, we can sing and dance our way through it.

Of Dying Frogs and Honey.

Lately, I've had the worst time trying to concentrate. It's as though someone is sitting on the remote that controls my thoughts and their butt is sitting squarely on the + button causing the channels to change at a dizzying pace, all the while an elephant sits squarely on my chest making breathing close to an impossibility. I have to remind myself that the elephant will eventually get bored and will move on, but for now nebulizers are the only thing that helps, and they don't last nearly as long as I'd like them to. This junk that Hopper brought home and decided to so generously share with Scooter, Hubster and me is awful. I'm hoping the stupid elephant clears out soon and takes whoever is sitting on the remote with him. 

The last few days, I've worked on things that are on my master list that don't take too much energy. I've mended, altered, and added new elastic to a dozen or so of Scooter's skirts. She's thrilled, because she absolutely adores skirts, but I really do need to get it finished up soon, so I can reclaim the kitchen table for meals once again. It's harder to get anything done with the girls home sick, but ...(this sentence was interrupted by the need to clean up the remains of a wall plaque my parents got me that was broken by Scooter in a fit of irritation)...I'm hoping to finish them up tonight when they finally go to bed.

I feel horrible that I made Scooter feel bad about breaking it when I yelled at her. She has this habit of intentionally breaking things when she's not happy. She's done everything from chucking dishes across the room to bending/tearing toys in two, to ripping her necklaces and bracelets that she absolutely loves into pieces when she's angry. It's been very frustrating for all of us. She also has a habit of going over to a hanging plant we have in the living room and pushing it so it swings when she's irritated. And I don't think Scooter broke the plaque on purpose, but I think she figured she'd make it swing like she makes the plant swing back and forth when she's mad. To be fair, she isn't feeling well today, but I really do wish there was a way we could curb this behavior. We've been dealing with it for 20 years now, and although she's gotten better and not doing it all the time, she still can wreak havoc when she's riled. She apparently has her mama's temper from what I understand. 

My younger self pleads the fifth at the mere suggestion.

When I talked to Bugster the other day, she said I sounded like a dying frog. I feel like one, too. And the only thing that seems to quell the cough is honey. 

So I'm off to feed the frog.

Busy. Busy. Busy.

I can't believe it's been 2 months since I've posted on my blog. I remember when I first started blogging I thought I'd never be one of those bloggers who waited so long to write a post. Ha. It's funny how life can get in the way of blogging.

Thankfully, I just have a really sensitive sense of smell, and my blood sugar was not very elevated back in August when I had it checked. My fasting glucose test was totally normal, and my A1C was at borderline pre-diabetic levels, and I'm sure it's gone down since then. Still, it was a much-needed wake-up call! We've made drastic changes to our diet because of it, and we're starting to see some really positive results.

While my asthma still is not under control, it is finally responding to the new medicines I'm on, and I've been able to start tapering the steroids. I am so very thankful! I'm down to half the daily amount I started on back in June, and I'm hoping to be off them entirely by Christmas. And the number of breathing treatments I've needed has dropped by more than half. At the peak of the fires this summer, I was doing 7 a day. I'm now down to 3. It's progress for which I'm very grateful!

We've been busy with medical appointments for the girls. We've averaged 3 to 4 appointments a week since the last blog entry. The only break we had in appointments was after Hopper had surgery a couple of weeks ago. It doesn't look like things are going to slow down much on the medical front before the end of the year. We've already got another surgery scheduled and another one that we'll be scheduling next week. I'm glad the girls are getting the medical treatment they need, but I'm looking forward to a break in the action. I'm tired. 

I haven't done a lot of active dehoarding in the last few months, but I have no doubt that will come in time. I've had bigger things on my mind. The whole blood sugar scare, along with one surgeon wanting Hopper to lose some weight, so she can have a major surgery sometime next year has really opened our eyes to the way we were eating. We're now making a very concentrated effort to eat as healthily as we can. As a result, we've all lost a little weight. I'm down 15 pounds to date, Hubster is down 18, Hopper has lost 5 and Scooter has lost a couple, although she had the least amount to lose. And the best thing is that we've all been healthier than typical for this time of year. Yay for fruits and veggies!

Speaking of which, I've got about 40 pounds of tomatoes from the garden that need to be processed. I already canned several pints of Tomato Basil Sauce that is amazing, but now I need to make some salsa and can it, some more sauce and some whole tomatoes to use this winter. Even though our tomatoes didn't do as well as they did last year, I'm thrilled that we'll have such yummy goodness from the garden all winter long!

I'm hoping to get back to some serious dehoarding one of these days as life slows down a little. I'm also hoping to get back to more regular blogging. I miss it. And now that we no longer need to have the air conditioner on, (it is just feet away from the computer), I can actually sit at the computer without freezing.

There's something to be said for good weather blogging.

Brain matter.

Just when I was starting to feel better, Hubster brought something home from work and decided to share. Enter Cough, Cough, Whiz, Whiz Part Two. I've been sputtering and wheezing all week. Let's just say it's been a really, really long week. And I'm really, really thankful for the cough suppressant abilities of honey. It's the only thing that really even seems to work. Now I just have to heat the bottle up in some hot water, so I can get it to come out of the bottle again! Making a mental note to put it on the grocery list, so we're not out of it next time we get sick.

In spite of the fact that I feel worse in some ways, I am better. My mind is clearer than it's been in quite some time. But part of that is the brain spatter all over the hallway walls. 

Ok. It's not technically brain matter, but it feels like it in ways.

I took some legal sized card stock I've had for a few years and made several lists. I made a list for each of us, so I can make sure nothing slips through the cracks as far as our medical, dental and vision appointments. I also made a list of what I intend to do in Scooter's room when I get around to painting it and finally finishing it up. I have a lot of ideas, and I just don't want to forget any of them. I also have lists with other projects that I have on  my mind as well as a master list of gifts that I want to make and give. 

All in all, I have 7 or 8 lists hanging in the hallway. So far. And although it feels like my mind is exposed for all to see, I can't tell you what a huge relief it's been! By having them on the wall vs in a notebook, I see them every day, I won't lose them, and best of all, I can add to them, as I need to. In fact, I have a couple other lists floating around in my noggin that I need to get out, so I'm sure there will be a couple more hanging up by the end of the weekend.

Somehow getting the thoughts out on paper like that is so helpful. I know I'm not going to forget anything, and I'm no longer carrying it all around in my head. As a result, I have been able to get more done in the last week than I have in the last couple or three months! 

Now, if I can just get rid of this cold, I'll be golden!

Ok. So maybe not golden, but at least I won't be lead!

 

Unsettled

Today has been ... unsettling. That all-day-long-sort-of-unsettling that keeps a person from being able to concentrate on anything for more than a moment or two.

The thing is, things have been going along pretty smoothly, and I really can't complain. Hubster's layoff has been one of the best things that have ever happened to us. My back has slowly, but surely, been getting better, and my hips aren't killing me all the time anymore. I haven't lost anyone close to me, and except for the occasional cold or ear infection, we are healthy.

But I had a nightmare right before I woke up this morning that has had my head in a tailspin all day long. I'm sure it has to do with the recent terror attack in Boston, and the death and dismemberment of so many people and the fertilizer plant explosion in West, TX. My heart aches for all of those affected by it, whether they were direct victims, families of those injured or killed, or those who had to see unspeakable things when they rushed in to try to help those who were hurt.

I didn't really think I was gravely affected by it, since I didn't personally know anyone who was hurt or terrorized. I've shielded the girls from watching the news, and I've personally tried to stay away from it myself. I've found in the past that I can so easily be sucked into a great abyss of darkness, if I focus on tragedies like this too much. And my kids don't need for me to live in an abyss. They need me to be their mom.

Normally, I don't repeat bad dreams, because they're usually a distant memory by noon. But today, I need to write about my dream, because it will let me forget it and will let me sleep tonight above ground. Now is the time to x out of this post, if you are affected negatively by other people's dreams.  

In my dream, Hubster and I had taken a trip of some sort to a large city. I don't know what city we were in. All I know is that it was large and unfamiliar. It apparently had some good shopping though, and we'd stopped at some mega store to look for something for the house. I only remember that it was small, because we kept turning it over and looking at it and one next to it to determine, if it would be a good fit in our home.

After looking at the thing for 10 minutes or so, we realized that Scooter was gone. We were frantic. We started calling her name in a panic and panicking, because we knew she couldn't let us know that she heard us. We saw some checkers near the front registers, so we asked, if they had seen a young girl and described Scooter to them.

The gal we spoke with said, "I haven't seen her, but I know a young girl died outside the front doors a little bit ago!" She went on to say that the girl died on the tracks...I don't know, if they were subway tracks or from a trolley car or what, but they were apparently right outside the front doors of the store. 

Our hearts sank. We instantly felt guilty that we'd let her out of our sight pictured her tripping onto the tracks. I remember going down to the morgue and trying to identify the body, and being relieved that it wasn't her but being absolutely terrified that we'd taken the time to go to the morgue. That meant that we'd wasted precious time that we could have spent looking for her at the store. 

The dream then morphed into me telling Hubster's niece that I was so incredibly sorry that I had dreamed that she had died. She didn't want anything to do with me because of the dream. I think that even in my sleep it was too much for me to actually dream that something had really happened to her, and that I somehow convinced myself in my dream that it was a dream about someone else.

Around noon today, something the clerk said came back to me. When she was telling us that someone had just died out front, I'd asked her when it happened. She said that the girl had fallen 2 or 3 hours before, but that she had died about 20 minutes before we asked her about it, so I  have no idea why the timing didn't dawn on us in my dream, and we went to the morgue instead.

All I know is that this nightmare has clung to me like the smell of a bad cigar all day long. I haven't been able to shake it, and even recounting it to write it down has caused my stomach to lurch with anxiety. We've had a couple of close calls over the years with losing her for a few minutes, once when she decided she couldn't wait to use the restroom, and we found her in one of the stalls in the mens restroom at the zoo, and the next time when she decided to go visit the neighbor when we thought we had all the doors locked to the point that she couldn't get out. 

Both situations caused untold anxiety and worry, and rightfully so. Neither situation should have happened. At the same time, a parent can easily be distracted by one of their other children, a phone call or a conversation. We are fallible. After all, we are only human. Still. I think it's time we find something to aid us in finding her, if she's ever separated from us again.

Got Milk? I Wish!

You know what they say...."When God closes a door, He opens a window."? Let me just say that God is amazing!

The 3 weeks since Hubster was laid off have been...well...good. 

Hubster applied for a job the Monday after he was laid off and got the job. It was quite the pay cut compared to what he was making before, since he has to start over from scratch, but we'll manage. We're just very thankful that he already has a job and that he's working for someone who values him and his work ethic. In fact, the new boss has been trying to get him to come to work for him for years, so it's a really good fit.

It's also a lot less stressful a work environment than what he's been dealing with for the last 13 years. As a result, it's the least stressed I've seen my husband in years. The result of him being less stressed out translates into the girls being less stressed, and an extension of that is that I'm less stressed, too. It's as though a huge boulder has been lifted from our shoulders.

There's been other stressful stuff happening around the homestead that I can't talk about on my blog. It doesn't involve anything with any of us, but it has affected our lives. Thankfully, it's mostly resolved. Only time will tell how it ends in the long run, but we're hopeful that justice will be served.

I had to start on a second antibiotic for the strep, since the first one didn't take care of it like it should have. I am finally starting to regain my health, but I really wish I hadn't had to take this other antibiotic. It makes me hurt from head to toe. I found out that dairy can apparently exacerbate the reaction. This must be a new warning. I'd never seen it before this prescription, and in fact, I have always taken it with a full glass of milk. :::insert eye roll here:::

Needless to say, I've stayed completely away from dairy. It's helped a lot. My arms haven't ached from my elbows to my fingertips this time, and my ankles have kept me up at night. However, this time my hips have really bothered me. And I've really, really, really missed milk. And cheese. And the occasional cup of ice cream. 

I'm going to stay off dairy for a bit longer just to make sure the antibiotic has time to pass through my system a bit more before starting it up again. I don't want the hurt locker to become my home. 

So that's about it for an update. I'm hoping to get back into some sort of schedule of blogging, dehoarding, walking more regularly soon. I've been totally thrown off track with all that's been going on, but it's a process, and I will get there. 

I'm off to bed to dream of the Land of Milk and Cheese. 

Have a glass for me!

I finally get to sleep with my husband.

Last night, after years of dedicated service to the company he's worked for for almost 13 years, Hubster was 'let go'.  No notice. They just laid him and 4 other people off from their jobs. His problem was that he'd done such a good job that he had the highest hourly rate of any of the drivers, and they felt they could no longer afford to keep him on. 

They informed him that as of midnight last night, we are without insurance. He was given a small severance package, and it will help out, but it's only going to be a fraction of what he'd have made had he actually been working, because it includes no overtime or shift differential, of course. I can't tell you how incredibly thankful I am that I'd already had my surgery, and all I have left is a follow-up visit to the doctor. I'm hoping that the follow-up is covered as part of the surgery. They often are. Hopefully this one is, too. If it's not, I'll find out, if it's even necessary to go, and I'll skip it, if I can.

And talk about timing! Yeah. It's going to suck to have the payments for the sewer repairs, but I can't tell you how incredibly relieved we are that we're not going to have to deal with sewer problems on top of being and uninsured and unemployed family! I mean seriously. It could be worse! Oh! I almost forgot! When he got the sewer work loan, he signed up for an insurance plan thing that will pay the payment on the loan, if he has unplanned unemployment! So hopefully, we won't have to worry about that payment, after all. That would be nice.

We've got lots to look into. There's a chance Hubster can get training to get into a different line of work through the VA, since he never had GI Bill benefits due to his entry date into the Marines. If he qualifies, he'll jump at the opportunity, and things will just be tight for awhile. If he doesn't qualify, he'll start a job search immediately. He's planning on going down to the VA Tuesday to see what he can find out. 

Even though this has set our world upside down temporarily, I cling to Romans 8:28 and the thought that all will be okay. I mean, we still have each other, and we all have our health, and we no longer have sewer issues. Things really could be so much worse.

Hubster will no longer have to deal with getting called out at 2 and 3 in the morning to deal with patients. He'll no longer feel like throwing his phone through the wall when it rings in the middle of the night and startles him out of his skin. He'll no longer have to deal with some of the incompetent supervisors he's dealt with all these years. 

For over a decade, he's gone to work around 1:30 pm and has gotten off work anywhere from midnight to 4:00 in the morning. In all those years, we haven't gone to bed at the same time unless I stayed up late to spend time with him, and even then I fell asleep in the recliner long before we ventured into bed. 

So for the first time in almost 13 years, I get to sleep with my husband again.

Woot!!

What's a girl to do?

When the plumber came out initially and gave us an estimate on the repairs that needed done, he asked, if we wanted to schedule it in a couple of weeks. All we could think of was what might happen in those two weeks while we waited, so we asked him to make it happen as soon as possible. He did. He came the very next day. At the time, I had no idea where he came up with suggesting a 2 week waiting period. 

Now I know.

He was thinking of me and the recovery I would need from my surgery. I have no idea why I didn't think of that. I'm sure it had to do with the untold troubles we've had with the sewer in the past and how I didn't want to add any more stories to the list. I'm thinking I maybe should have waited. Either that, or maybe Hubster should have taken a week of instead of the 2 days that he did. It's been a bit much for me, and it caught up with me this weekend.

Scooter tested positive for strep when Hubster took her to the doctor on Wednesday. Thursday, Hopper woke up with a fever and a sore throat. Her doctor put her on antibiotics for strep, assuming she has what Scooter has. And although I was not tested, I am certain that I have it as well. I first called my doctor's office Wednesday, after I got the news about Scooter. Unfortunately, I didn't get a call back after I'd spoken to the nurse, because my doctor was in surgery all day and didn't get the message. So Thursday morning, I called in again. I finally got an answer that the doctor was having the nurse call something in.

Except that the nurse called in something I'm highly allergic to. Sigh. I called and explained that I can't handle that antibiotic, and I mentioned that they should have a list of my allergies in the system. I'd actually printed out a list and brought it in with me when I was in for my pre-op the week before. I don't know how it happened, but she said that it wasn't listed, and that she'd call something else in. 

So I waited. And waited. And waited. And nothing.

I called the pharmacy to see, if anything had been called in. Yes. It had. Bugster ran up to the pharmacy to pick it up for me, and I almost cried when I opened the bag. The pharmacy, (which has known about this allergy for years now!), didn't have the allergy listed, and filled the antibiotic that was initially called in. I immediately called and explained the situation. Had anything else been called in for me, besides the one I'm allergic to?

No.

Crap.

So I called the doctor that was on call for my doctor's office. I felt horrible calling him, but I also knew that I needed to be on antibiotics. I could tell that the pain I was having had to do with more than just having surgery. He called on in to a 24 hour pharmacy, and Hubster picked it up for me on his way home from work. Then first thing Friday morning, after I'd taken 2 doses of the antibiotic that had been called in by the on-call doc, I got a call from the pharmacy.

Sure enough, there *had* been a script called in for me the day before. It had somehow been saved on the fax machine and hadn't been filled. It isn't the antibiotic the on-call doctor prescribed, though, it was a different one. Great. I wasn't sure what to do. So I just asked them to hold onto it and not fill it. If I need it, I'll at least have access to it later on. 

Did I mention that I'm sure that I have strep? After taking the antibiotic for about 36 hours, the pain in my throat was *much* better. It still hurt. I did have my tonsils removed, after all, and I still had strep on top of things, but, it really was better. Still, by the time Saturday rolled around, I was exhausted. 

I realized that I'd been on my pre-surgery schedule here at home, even though I really should have been getting extra rest and sleep. I probably would have gotten the extra rest I needed, if the plumbers weren't here, but we needed the stuff to get done. No doubt about it. I also know I can't go on without getting a little extra TLC, so I've spent the majority of the weekend resting. I need to get my strength up for tomorrow and Tuesday when the plumbers return to finish things up. 

I just have to remind myself that I only have to make it through 2 more days...

After that, I'll be able to nap while Scooter's at school. I can do this...