Pardon Me While I Get Up on My Soap Box

We weathered (HA) the Storm of the Century just fine here in Aberdeen.  We didn’t even lose power.  I attribute that to the fact that we spent the entire day before planning for the storm by taking everything out of our basement in preparation for the flooding that might occur if we lost power.  The lights didn’t even flicker.

My heart goes out to those who lost so much in the storm.  Wide spread devastation breaks my heart.  But I have a bone to pick with the national news that has covered the storm.  Devastation was NOT limited to New Jersey and New York.  Parts of Delaware, Maryland and the Eastern Shore of Virginia were deeply affected by this storm.  Entire communities on the Eastern Shore of VA were wiped out.  W-I-P-E-D out.  As in, there no more.  As in gone.  The beach at Assateague Island – gone.  I’m so saddened by this.  That was MY beach.  That was the beach where I took my grandkids.  Where I sat with my sister for hours watching the waves.  Where we walked and picked up sea shells.  Where we could watch the ponies.  It’s gone.  I’m not just talking about a board walk or stores – I mean the BEACH is gone.  Washed away.

The entire island of Chincoteague was under water.  Multiple businesses have been affected.  Saxis?  devastated.  Guard Beach?  Gone.  Nothing but a bar of rocks in Atlantic now.  Thousands of men dedicated to working the water their entire lives have been devastated by this storm – their boats ruined, their fishing gear and crab traps washed to sea.  Elderly were trapped in their homes and were not saved.  And no help from the federal government.  I’m sickened and saddened by what has happened to those close to me.

My family comes from the Eastern Shore of Virginia.  We have a vacation home there.  I have family there.  I have friends there.  And I’m screaming because no one is coming to help them.  But you know what, they are banding together as a community – activating the word through the wonder that is social media, through word of mouth, and through close-knit communities.  They are pulling together to help themselves.  People are donating time, money, equipment, physical labor, clothing, food – you name it, they need it.  And this makes my heart smile.

We Eastern Shormen have always been a hardy bunch.  People have lived on the Eastern Shore of VA since the 1600s.  I know, because I trace my family back that far.  You can’t wipe us out that easily.

It will come back.  Stronger this time.  You can’t put a shoreman down.

And just maybe, when you are contemplating having some oysters on the half shell for your holiday noms, they might be a hell of a lot harder to find this year.  Because the people of the Shore are too busy putting their lives back together by themselves.

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Updates are a Helpful Thing

So, in reference to my last post, the baby did in fact arrive on August 6th, and about 10:20pm. She was 7lbs, 12.5 oz, and gorgeous.  Her name is Alani.  Her big sister Braelyn is still not sure about this whole “sister” thing.  Grammie is in love.  Jessica had a very rough labor and delivery which ended in an emergency c-section and her being under general anesthesia.  Alani was sunny-side-up and stuck.  Mamma and baby are both doing wonderfully now and Jess says Alani is a very good baby.

Class finished up last week.  I got my final back and managed to get an A.  Hallelujah.  Stats is over.  Yay.

Surgery is scheduled for the 22nd.  More about that on my other blog (see link below).

Hi Ho Hi Ho…Back to Work I Go

So, I’ve been off on short term for the past week and a half because they thought I had a virus.  Which in retrospect may actually not be a virus, but I’m not trying to think about that.

I’m ready to go back, even though I’m going to be slammed.  I worked today from home, but being back in the office is a whole different matter.

And then I have Thursday hanging over my head.

I also had my conversation with my supervisor about the big “C” today.  Bah.  Horrible conversation to have when you are actually talking about yourself.

Crappy day all around folks.

*cough* So Much For Blogging More

So, last I left you, we were having another grandbaby.  She’s progressing nicely, and her big sister Braelyn is ready for her impending arrival in August.

In other news, I’m taking two classes this summer.  I’ve been released from ortho care regarding my knee (healing awesome!) and am busier than a one legged man in an ass kicking contest.

Work is work (there is news on that front, but I’m not posting more about it because who knows who can access this bad boy) and life moves on.

Maybe one day I’ll get back to regular blogging.  Until then, bare with me.

Resolutions – I Haz Them

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I usually DON’T do New Year’s Resolutions – mostly because by January 15th, I’ve forgotten what I resolved to do, but this year, I do have some, and I intend on keeping them.
I resolve to get more organized (Kate – stop laughing, yes I know I’m anal).  I need to organize my craft room and my pantry because I can’t find anything.  I’ve been knitting a hell of a lot more, and I want to organize my yarn stash by type so I know what I actually have and what I can get rid of.  I have a ton of acrylic yarn, but since I’m now knitting more complicated pieces, I’ve started to by real wool, so I want to know what I’ve got on hand when I start a new project.  I also have to go through all my needlework stuff, and my scrapbooking stuff so I know what I’ve got.  My pantry is a shambles and I can’t find crap, which I hate when I’m trying to cook, so yeah, that’s on task for this week too.  Plus, our front entry closet is so messy I can’t find anything.  Driving me nuts.
I resolve to get to my goal weight – which has also been revised.  I want to get down to 165.  I need to get back to the basic rules of my surgery – protein first, measuring food, 80 to 100g of protein per day, no drinking 30 minutes before or after a meal, etc.  And I need to start exercising again.  I’m hoping it relieves the back pain I’ve had lately.  I just have to be careful, as I still have a ton of restrictions on my knee – no kneeling, no jumping, nothing more than low impact.
I resolve to get my debt paid off (well, except the mortgage).   I figure I’ll be done paying off my credit cards in April.  Then I’m going to double  up on car payments.  Once the car is paid off, I’ll double up on my 2nd mortgage, etc.  It won’t all be paid this year, but I’m hoping by 2015 to be completely debt free.
I resolve to stress less.  Of course, the strateline is helping with that (I love my chemical happy pills), but I also intend to keep up with my sleep rules, and be zen about things I have no control over.
I resolve to spend more time with my girlfriends.  I’m starting that this Tuesday by having lunch with my long time BFF.  MUAH.
Happy New Year my friends.  Remember that the most important things are family and friends.  And have a big spoonful of blackeyed peas for goodluck today.

Happens Every Time

Every single time my husband goes out of town, I have some kind of injury to myself or a disaster befalls the house.  Every. Single. Time.  And it’s frustrating.  One year, when he went to my step-daughter’s over night to help her do something in the house, my left knee blew and I ended up needing surgery.  Another time he went away (again to my step-daughter’s), I sprained my wrist AND the basement backed up with sewage.  It never ever fails.  I’m doomed to have disaster befall when my husband goes away.

This year, I planned ahead.  I took time off from work last week, and arranged to work from home yesterday and today because our dog is so spazzy when she’s left alone that I knew if I left her for 10 hours during the day, she’d either chew herself up, or eat one of the cats.  And that’s not something I’d want to come home to.  I felt relatively safe this time with Bob on his annual hunting trip.  I was going to enjoy my vacation from my husband.

And I made it from Friday to Sunday afternoon with no disaster.  None.  Went shopping with my girls…saw my mom…got some christmas crafts done…it was all good.  Until Sunday afternoon.

DUN DUN DUN

I got back from my mother’s, and put the dog inside.  I went back outside to unload the car, got off the front steps, took two more steps, and boom…..

I went down.  Right in the front yard.  I don’t know what happened, or how it happened.  But I went down.  On my knee.  My freshly repaired knee.  The one I’m supposed to be really careful with.  The one I’m not supposed to kneel on.  So, I didn’t technically kneel.  I more like crashed on it.

I’m sure the neighbors are wondering where the crazy shrieking was coming from.

So, my knee is ok…I guess.  It’s a wait and see kind of thing.  You see, the donor cartildge I had put in takes 18 months to grow in.  And at this point, I can still do some very serious damage to it.  But as I said, it’s wait and see.  It’s too soon to know if I did any real damage.

My pride, on the other hand, is quite wounded.  And I have a boo boo.

Coming Out of My Funk – with LOL Cat Illustrations

See?  I haven’t forgotten.  I’ve been rattling my brain, trying to figure out what to start with.  There’s really so much going on, but I thought I’d start with the heavy stuff.

I don’t know how many of you read Hyperbole and a Half, but if you do, you will have seen the recent entry about depression.  Sigh.  I so relate to that.

Since my knee surgery in July, I have been having issues.  I’ve been exhausted, and cranky, and supermega stress – and it’s not been pretty.  I’ve snapped at people, and in general have been a cranky, sleepy, upset bitch.    Seriously, I could really rival some of the big bad villans in your favorite superhero stories.  I haven’t wanted to be around myself, and I’ve been existing on coffee.  Most days, I resemble this:

Between school, my job, and stress over some random crap at home, this was how I wanted to spend most of my day…

So, I sucked it up, and I talked to my doctor about it.  With a history of mental issues in my family combined with what I was going through, it was smart to bring it up with my doctor just to make sure everything was ok.  He and I spoke, and he said he thought my problems may have stemmed from a lack of sleep.  I was having issues falling asleep and staying asleep, and he wanted to determine if my issues stemmed from the lack of sleep, or if the lack of sleep were due ot depression.  So, he prescribed some ambien to take care of the sleep issues, and gave me some sleep rules – the bed room is for sleep and sex, nothing more.  Go to bed when its dark, and wake up with its light.  Get 8 hours of sleep.  No napping.  NO NAPPING?  WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN NO NAPPING?  SERIOUSLY, THAT’S MY FAVORITE PASS TIME…*ahem*

So I got the ambien filled.  Now, let me tell you about ambien.  It says to take it when you are ready to sleep.  And they freaking mean it.  Because no sooner had I swallowed the pills before I was drooling.  ZONK.  It’s not one of those pills you take in the bathroom and think you have time to make it to the bed.  Because you’ll end up like this:

So, for 20 days, I took my ambien, and followed my sleep rules (to the dismay of my husband, who very much misses watching tv in bed) and I got 8 hours of sleep a night.

And I was still stressed and grumpy, and exhausted.  So they checked my thyroid too.  Because blood work is so much fun.  But my thyroid is normal.  And they are checking my vitamin D, which could be low…and and and…I feel like a pin cushion.

So, now I’m waiting two more weeks to determine if my Vit D is low.  If it is, they’ll increase my D supplements and perhaps put me back on iron.  And if that is all ok, they are going to put me on happy pills.  No matter what, I’m determined to beat whatever is holding me down…and get back to happy…because everyone deserves to feel happy…no?

And I’ll beat the evil depression/exhaustion/whatever it is once and for all.

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