Nothing quite like gearing up for travel & exploits, only for my throat to be bothering me. If I tilt my head just a smidge too far back while swallowing... OUCH. Fortunately I have an appointment scheduled with my endocrinologist for when I return, and I've emailed him, so he'll be on the look out for my thyroid nodule ONCE MORE, when I return.
In the meantime if I can wrangle it, I want to see my gastro guy and see about scheduling not just a colonoscopy as he wants, but also an endoscopy. So he'll get me comin' and goin' as it were.
It wouldn't be springtime if I didn't have something scoped, prodded or poked.
Better living thru diagnostics, people!
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Sad State of Affairs
Still keeping up with the physical therapy, with the best possible intentions.
Last night, before I could even get around to doing my "home work," I had to add more air to my exercise ball. And well, fuck! I went into muscle fatigue just manually pumping air into the ball.
My focus for now will be to continue to work on my low back and lower abdomen, hoping to strengthen myself, in preparation for a hysterectomy at some point in the not-too-distant future. So, I'm using that to stay on track for goals. To make myself strong enough to join a pilates class without fear of injuring myself, and to physically prepare for surgery.
There are worse goals to have, I think!
Last night, before I could even get around to doing my "home work," I had to add more air to my exercise ball. And well, fuck! I went into muscle fatigue just manually pumping air into the ball.
My focus for now will be to continue to work on my low back and lower abdomen, hoping to strengthen myself, in preparation for a hysterectomy at some point in the not-too-distant future. So, I'm using that to stay on track for goals. To make myself strong enough to join a pilates class without fear of injuring myself, and to physically prepare for surgery.
There are worse goals to have, I think!
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Maintaining
Nothing new to report. Or so I think.
The weight I gained while on the Cymbalta hasn't really seemed to come off, but no NEW weight gain, so I guess there's THAT. I just wish I could jump start the weight loss again. I'm trying to eat 1/2 a grapefruit a day, so hoping it helps burn fat, or boost metabolism or whatever.
I'm now about a month into the experiment known as physical therapy. I've been going once a week every week, though two weeks ago I had to skip a session and next week skip a session due to scheduling constraints. But for as little as I've done thus far, I feel different, physically. Perhaps in a few weeks I can explore a pilates class without harming myself in the process.
Blood work drawn on Monday; accoutrements acquired for a 24 hour urine collection (good times). Perhaps sometime before my grand vacance I'll get around to doing the actual collection.
So, no new antidepressant or anti-anxiety medication. Been cold turkey off everything with the exception of an occasional cocktail for medicinal purposes.
And about that cocktail...
Last Friday I hit my tipping point. I brought booze to my office, as I knew Friday would be a particularly horrible pain day (and it was, and it was also followed up by an even worse Saturday, which rendered me bed bound with a migraine).
I think I'm ready to start thinking about a hysterectomy. According to my rough math, I'm losing 14-28 days a year due to the migraines, menses mess, and overall agonizing pain. Life is too short for this.
Of course, my mother is the poster child of ILL HEALTH, so I won't be using her as my case study for post-op hysterectomy progress. My mother-in-law, in stark contrast, is nothing short of awesome. Good overall health and lifestyle and mindset. So I'm hoping her recovery is a speedy one, and I hope she dispenses plenty of first hand knowledge of what her experience has been.
Bottom line is, pain sucks, life is short, and I don't want to be a burden to my husband or friends.
ETA: Six months later, and I am no closer to actually thinking about or considering a hysterectomy. And glad for it. I started taking B1 supplements, and it's helped quell some of the agonizing pain. Let's wait and see if it continues to diminish the pain over the long haul.
The weight I gained while on the Cymbalta hasn't really seemed to come off, but no NEW weight gain, so I guess there's THAT. I just wish I could jump start the weight loss again. I'm trying to eat 1/2 a grapefruit a day, so hoping it helps burn fat, or boost metabolism or whatever.
I'm now about a month into the experiment known as physical therapy. I've been going once a week every week, though two weeks ago I had to skip a session and next week skip a session due to scheduling constraints. But for as little as I've done thus far, I feel different, physically. Perhaps in a few weeks I can explore a pilates class without harming myself in the process.
Blood work drawn on Monday; accoutrements acquired for a 24 hour urine collection (good times). Perhaps sometime before my grand vacance I'll get around to doing the actual collection.
So, no new antidepressant or anti-anxiety medication. Been cold turkey off everything with the exception of an occasional cocktail for medicinal purposes.
And about that cocktail...
Last Friday I hit my tipping point. I brought booze to my office, as I knew Friday would be a particularly horrible pain day (and it was, and it was also followed up by an even worse Saturday, which rendered me bed bound with a migraine).
I think I'm ready to start thinking about a hysterectomy. According to my rough math, I'm losing 14-28 days a year due to the migraines, menses mess, and overall agonizing pain. Life is too short for this.
Of course, my mother is the poster child of ILL HEALTH, so I won't be using her as my case study for post-op hysterectomy progress. My mother-in-law, in stark contrast, is nothing short of awesome. Good overall health and lifestyle and mindset. So I'm hoping her recovery is a speedy one, and I hope she dispenses plenty of first hand knowledge of what her experience has been.
Bottom line is, pain sucks, life is short, and I don't want to be a burden to my husband or friends.
ETA: Six months later, and I am no closer to actually thinking about or considering a hysterectomy. And glad for it. I started taking B1 supplements, and it's helped quell some of the agonizing pain. Let's wait and see if it continues to diminish the pain over the long haul.
Friday, April 11, 2014
Tipping Point & Colonoscopies
(Cross posted from my dysfunction blog.)
Had a goodish session with the psychotherapist this a.m., talked about everything that's been cookin' the last two weeks: Physical therapy, work shit, Audrey, my sister's mass in her lung, pain, fear, depression, all my talking points.
It is hard work trying to go from a fixed mindset to a growth oriented mindset. By and large, at the moment, I find the hardest part just to be consistent. For me to consistently show up at my appointments, be focused, do my homework (for the physical therapy), keeping focus that this is a means to an end, working towards the goal of taking pilates (without seriously hurting myself in the process).
My first instinct of course is to whine, "It's not fun. It is unpleasant. I hurt afterwards. I'm bored." My first instinct is just to recoil, or as Audrey would do, put the ol' head in the sand. And you'd think that with the seething disgust I have towards her and the train wreck her life has become, you'd THINK the last thing I'd want to do is the very same thing she did (or didn't do). It's easy to take the easy way out.
As I said to my therapist, the hard part right now isn't the physical. It's the mental heavy lifting. Being present of mind, having some mental fortitude, working towards a goal, having a plan, starting something I finish. Trust me when I say, these are not qualities I inherited from either of my parents. My first impulse is to run away from conflict. Run away from things that are unpleasant. Run away from the possibility of failure. Right now, I'm trying to stay grounded, and take each session of PT on its own merit, on its own day. And as long as I can just SHOW UP, the rest will take care of itself. A good lot of life is just like that.
I make promises to people and work hard at keeping my word. It destroys me, in fact, when I fall short of my word. And yet, for myself, I think nothing of breaking promises I've made. How am I less important than others to whom I give my word? My mantra right now is JUST SHOW UP.
I made a promise to myself that I would go visit my mother tomorrow. She's been in the nursing home for 2.5 months, and I haven't laid eyes on her since before her surgery in January. Snow, sinus infections, adenomyosis pain, migraines, menses, you name it. The valid excuses kept creeping up and here we are, the weekend before Easter. And I need to go. No man's an island and all that crap.
The older I get, the smaller my family becomes, and as less-than-ideal as my family IS, time is a bitch. Tomorrow isn't promised to any of us. Opportunities are finite. It'd be lovely to make a silk purse out of this sow's ear that my family has become. It simply is what it is, and that's just damaged.
Mom's in the nursing home. Doubtful she'll come home at all at this point. Sis had a mass on her lung (which I believe was removed yesterday). Unsure if it's bronchial carcinoma or not. One aunt has stage four breast cancer with mets to the bone and liver. One aunt is so damaged from my grandfather's death, here it is nearly 2 years later, and she can't get her head out of her ass to just settle the estate (as if that will bring him back), and of course she's mentally checked out of the family and is uncharacteristically unreliable at this point. Brother still clueless and detached (said totally without judgment). His wife and my mother have made amends somewhat, yet my sis and brother's wife have not. So the whole thing is fractured into these little fragments.
I told my therapist that I am mentally preparing to visit my mother as if I were mentally preparing to go for a colonoscopy--as both are a pain in the ass. It's a thankless thing. But as unpleasant as a colonoscopy is, there IS an endpoint. With my mother, that endpoint is not so clearly defined.
So about that promise I made to myself, that THIS WEEKEND IS "THE" WEEKEND I'll go to Jersey to visit family, and get it over with. Of course, I'm about 12 hours out from menses and the distinct possibility of a migraine. Couple that up with just the overall crap at work, tipping point has been met. Today is the day I packed a travel flask of vodka with elderflower liquer in it and a can of sprite. I shall quaff it liberally before eating my lunch today... purely for medicinal purposes.
Had a goodish session with the psychotherapist this a.m., talked about everything that's been cookin' the last two weeks: Physical therapy, work shit, Audrey, my sister's mass in her lung, pain, fear, depression, all my talking points.
It is hard work trying to go from a fixed mindset to a growth oriented mindset. By and large, at the moment, I find the hardest part just to be consistent. For me to consistently show up at my appointments, be focused, do my homework (for the physical therapy), keeping focus that this is a means to an end, working towards the goal of taking pilates (without seriously hurting myself in the process).
My first instinct of course is to whine, "It's not fun. It is unpleasant. I hurt afterwards. I'm bored." My first instinct is just to recoil, or as Audrey would do, put the ol' head in the sand. And you'd think that with the seething disgust I have towards her and the train wreck her life has become, you'd THINK the last thing I'd want to do is the very same thing she did (or didn't do). It's easy to take the easy way out.
As I said to my therapist, the hard part right now isn't the physical. It's the mental heavy lifting. Being present of mind, having some mental fortitude, working towards a goal, having a plan, starting something I finish. Trust me when I say, these are not qualities I inherited from either of my parents. My first impulse is to run away from conflict. Run away from things that are unpleasant. Run away from the possibility of failure. Right now, I'm trying to stay grounded, and take each session of PT on its own merit, on its own day. And as long as I can just SHOW UP, the rest will take care of itself. A good lot of life is just like that.
I make promises to people and work hard at keeping my word. It destroys me, in fact, when I fall short of my word. And yet, for myself, I think nothing of breaking promises I've made. How am I less important than others to whom I give my word? My mantra right now is JUST SHOW UP.
I made a promise to myself that I would go visit my mother tomorrow. She's been in the nursing home for 2.5 months, and I haven't laid eyes on her since before her surgery in January. Snow, sinus infections, adenomyosis pain, migraines, menses, you name it. The valid excuses kept creeping up and here we are, the weekend before Easter. And I need to go. No man's an island and all that crap.
The older I get, the smaller my family becomes, and as less-than-ideal as my family IS, time is a bitch. Tomorrow isn't promised to any of us. Opportunities are finite. It'd be lovely to make a silk purse out of this sow's ear that my family has become. It simply is what it is, and that's just damaged.
Mom's in the nursing home. Doubtful she'll come home at all at this point. Sis had a mass on her lung (which I believe was removed yesterday). Unsure if it's bronchial carcinoma or not. One aunt has stage four breast cancer with mets to the bone and liver. One aunt is so damaged from my grandfather's death, here it is nearly 2 years later, and she can't get her head out of her ass to just settle the estate (as if that will bring him back), and of course she's mentally checked out of the family and is uncharacteristically unreliable at this point. Brother still clueless and detached (said totally without judgment). His wife and my mother have made amends somewhat, yet my sis and brother's wife have not. So the whole thing is fractured into these little fragments.
I told my therapist that I am mentally preparing to visit my mother as if I were mentally preparing to go for a colonoscopy--as both are a pain in the ass. It's a thankless thing. But as unpleasant as a colonoscopy is, there IS an endpoint. With my mother, that endpoint is not so clearly defined.
So about that promise I made to myself, that THIS WEEKEND IS "THE" WEEKEND I'll go to Jersey to visit family, and get it over with. Of course, I'm about 12 hours out from menses and the distinct possibility of a migraine. Couple that up with just the overall crap at work, tipping point has been met. Today is the day I packed a travel flask of vodka with elderflower liquer in it and a can of sprite. I shall quaff it liberally before eating my lunch today... purely for medicinal purposes.
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