Mixed Connective Tissue Disease (MCTD)

My face is becoming numb again.  Drat.  I took the carbamazepime last year and I thought that’s what helped the numbness go away, but I’m taking it again and it’s only getting worse.  I mean worse as in the numbness is spreading and my jaw and left side of my face actually hurt this time, which I’ve never had before.   My neurologist told me last year he thought  maybe this was heading toward trigeminal neuralgia and maybe he was right.  I hope not, I certainly have enough pain everywhere else I don’t need any more.  Thankyouverymuch. 

I did all the female stuff this year, so I’m all done with that until next year.  Did the mammogram too, which I absolutely hate, but it needs to be done, so that’s that.  I love the way doctors  just slap you on the back and tell you you’re fine when you feel like a bag of dog doo.  I’m so tempted to slap them back and snap that I am NOT fine, but really, that would only make me feel better for, oh, say 2 seconds.  Then I’d have to feel bad for slapping the doctor and all that.  So, I guess it’s not really worth it.  😉

 I had another dream about Karen and CBG the other night.  What’s up with that?  Is everything okay with you two?  This time we didn’t go shopping (smile) all we did was sit around Karen’t apartment – yes, apartment.  How come I have to visit you at some apartment when you have a nice new house?  No hospitality there!  LOL.   I have the oddest dreams after Steve wakes me up putting the dogs in bed with me when he goes to work.  Up until then, if I’m lucky enough to sleep at all, I don’t remember dreaming.  I wonder if Abe, the beaver, and the aquanaut guy miss me too?  Even with Ambien it takes me an hour or 2 to fall asleep.  If I sleep.  I’ve had a couple sleepless nights again lately, which just makes me anxious, which makes me not able to sleep, which makes me anxious, it’s a vicious circle I tell you.  I’m thinking of asking for some anti-anxiety something or other.  I have no idea what kind of herbal tea might be good for sleep, but I’m tempted to try one.  Might have do so some research on that. 

Steve cleaned the floors on Sunday!  Yay!  Even in the bathroom….  I was shocked.  I don’t think he’s ever cleaned the floors in the bathroom as long as we’ve been married.  Which, by the way, is coming up on 19 years on the 7th.  Whew… And they said it woudn’t last… Heh.

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A small rant…

I was reading the obituaries tonight, as I usually do and I noticed that one obituary had listed survivors as sons and daughters, and then adopted sons and daughters.  My first thought was that they were maybe kids who had been close to the family, as my friend’s mom “adopted” me when I was younger, but these kids had the same last name; so I think they were really adopted kids.  Why would you do segregate them like that?  That bugs me.  So does stepdaughter and stepson, and step-grandchildren.  My thought is if you marry someone their kids becomes your kids, whether you adopt them or not.  Also, if you adopt a child and he/she has your last name why bother to differentiate betwen the biological children and the adopted children.  Seems like a snub of some sort to me.  Ah well…

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Why is this even news?

I read this article today about a  mother in Texas who wants her terminally ill child kept alive by a ventilator so that he can die “naturally, the way God intended.”  What?!  I’m a mom, too, and I know I’d want to do anything I could to keep my children alive, but how this woman can figure keeping someone on a ventilator is keeping them alive to die “naturally” is beyond me.  I’d say if you take him off the ventilator and he dies, that’s natural.  I’m pretty sure ventilators are considered “life support”.  Ah, well.  What I can’t figure out is why this is news.  Isn’t this a private issue between the mother and the hospital – or the courts and the mother, whatever.  I thought this during the Terry Schiavo case, this person’s life isn’t for public scrutiny.  I’d be horrified if I were lying in a hospital in a persistant vegetative state and my family had to fight everyone and their uncle to do what I would want them to do.  I feel sorry for this woman, I really do, what a circus. 

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Sigh

Now Ben has heartworms.  I’m not even going to ask what else can happen.  It’s too tempting for fate to let me know.   He went to the vet on Friday for his dental (they had to pull 2 teeth – my dogs are all toothless wonders, I swear).  I had then check for heartworm, since I don’t cover my dogs all year, just during mosquito season.  Jojo’s came back negative, but Ben’s was positive.  I still have 3 more to get into the vet for testing.   Ben’s was only slightly positive, so they sent it out to a lab for a recheck, even through they rarely have false positives, and it came back yesterday as positive.  He goes in tomorrow morning and we pick him up again tomorrow night.  Since he’s 10, instead of getting the usual 2 shots in 2 days, they’re going to spread them out.  He has one now and the other one in a month.  I’ve heard they’re expensive, but I’m not really sure.  I don’t want to know either.  I’ll just find out when I get the bill.  I feel so bad for him.  He’s my sweetie.  Well, they’re all my sweeties, but since Ben interacts and “talks” back to me, I feel especially close to him.  This sucks. 

On the other hand I woke up this morning to the sound of thunder.  Wonderful!  I love lying in bed listening to the rain and the thunder.  It was comforting to snuggle in and sleep a little later.  I worked until 1:30 this morning, so I deserved a sleep in.  Then my friend C from church picked me up and we went to Olive Garden for their soup and salad.  Oh yum!  I’m absolutely stuffed, but I’d eat another bowl of that salad any day!  All in all, it was a Very Good Day (so far). 

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Central Auditory Processing Disorder (Syndrome) aka I’m a bad mom

Went with Meg to Boystown Institute the other day for her audiology examination.  Ouch.  That was an eye opener.  After her hearing tested out normal we went to see the ENT doctor who says her hearing is a little on the low normal size and should be followed up in 6 months to a year, but nothing too significant.  Hearing aids may help, but they may not, he can’t say for sure.  Then Meg went on to explain to him how much trouble she has hearing in situations where there are more than a couple of people, or at parties, malls, large open spaces, etc.  Hmmmm.  Now that seemed to pique his interest.  After a few more questions he concluded that she probably has Central Auditory Processing Disorder (CAPD).  Sort of like dyslexia, but it involves her auditory nerve instead of her optic nerve.  The ears are working, the auditory nerve is working, but the brain is scrambling the message it hears.  Oh.  I hadn’t ever heard of it before, but when I came home and did some research, I was floored.  These articles could have been written about Meg when she was a child.  How did I miss this?  I had her hearing tested and it was “fine”.  In fourth grade Steve and her teacher almost duked it out at parent-teacher conference because the teacher told him Meghan was just goofing off.  This was the first year she had been in a “pod” with 3 other 4th grade classes, divided only by room dividers.  The noise and confusion must have been exhausting for her, yet we didn’t investigate further why she was having so much trouble.  I just listened to the teacher and principal when they told me she didn’t belong in the one 4th grade classroom that was apart from the rest.  (Well, actually I went to visit that classroom and she didn’t belong there, the children were quite a bit behind Meg developmentally.)  But still.  I should have done something

I remember the day we were driving home from school and she told me she had learned a new word in school – this is kind of the way the conversation went:

Meg:  Hey, I learned a new word in school today.

Me:  Cool…  What was it?

Meg:  Reardevere.

Me: (Puzzled, prolonged silence).

 Meg: Did you hear me?

Me:  Yeah..   There’s no such word, Meg.

Meg: Yes there IS!

Me:  No, honey, I don’t think there is.  (In the meantime, I’m trying to remember 3rd grade vocabulary and how they could teach her a word I don’t know.  Not that I know everything, but really, third grade?)

Meg:  It’s reardevere. 

Me: (Because sometimes Meg got a little confused)  Do you mean rear view mirror?

Meg: (Getting a little huffy by this point.)  I do NOT mean rear view mirror.  The word was reardevere!

Me:  What does it mean? (Okay, so maybe I don’t know everything.)

Meg:  It’s another word for your hiney!

Me: (The light bulb comes on)  Oh!  Do you mean derriere?

Meg:  That’s what I SAID!

Now this didn’t happen constantly, but it did happen often enough that maybe I should have taken notice that something wasn’t right.  But did I?  Oh no…. So now, when she’s 26 years old, she finds out something that probably would have made her life a lot easier if it had been addressed when she was younger.  Oh hell. 

I’m never going to be mother of the year. 

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Aging parents (and a rant about the VA)

My dad hasn’t been feeling very well lately.  No big thing, at least you wouldn’t think so.  His leg has been sore for quite a while now and it’s gradually moved up from the calf of his left leg into the thigh area on the back of his leg.  A little worrisome, but dad is 74 years old and pretty active, so I wasn’t too worried about it.  He’s never been one to just sit around, and he still works pretty much full time as a security guard.  He’s a retired police officer, in case I hadn’t mentioned that before.  The first time he mentioned it to me was on Easter Sunday when we were over at my in-law’s house for dinner.   He said his leg was really feeling bad and he was limping quite a bit.  I was a little worried about a blood clot, but he said it wasn’t swollen or red, and the pain had been going on for a couple weeks.  The following week he went to the VA and saw his doctor(s).  He did get some bad news, his ophthalmologist thinks he’s developing glaucoma, but everyone in his maternal side of the family had it, so that’s not a surprise really.  It’s not even bad enough for eye drops, but his pressures have risen a bit. 

His regular doctor did some x-rays of the leg and told him she’d get back to him.  That was a week ago yesterday, on Thursday.  Well, he didn’t hear anything Friday, and the leg was getting worse and worse.  On Sunday he almost fell walking over to my sister’s house across the street (dad also has vertigo, so between the dizziness and the sore leg he was an accident waiting to happen).  On Monday I called and talked to his wife.  (Please, she’s younger than me.  She is NOT my stepmother.)  She said dad had been in quite a bit of pain the night before and hadn’t been able to sleep.  I asked her if she had called his doctor.  I swear, I’m going to throttle that woman some day.  “I don’t know who it is”.  What?  Are you not his wife?  Oh nevermind, don’t even get me started on THAT topic.  Anyway, I told her I was going to call the doctor.  Funny, I didn’t have any trouble finding out who his doctor was (even though the stupid VA did manage to disconnect my call 4 freaking times before I finally got to leave a message).  I wasn’t rude though, you would have been proud of me.  I left a message with his name and social security number, blah, blah blah…. The nurse called me back about 20 minutes later.  Surprise, surprise.  I explained to her that I was really concerned about dad, he was having quite a lot of SEVERE (I stressed severe) pain, and he was pretty unsteady on his feet already because of the vertigo, so you can imagine what a hard time he was having, yada yada yada.  I knew she couldn’t give me any information, but she assured me she’d give the message to the doctor and have her call my dad.  I found out later that my dad had also called and left a message for her to call because he was in so much pain. 

 By Monday evening he was in so much pain that his “wife” finally decided maybe he should go to the hospital and get something for his pain.  (Only after discussing it with my sister and waiting another 90 minutes – duh.)  So he went to the hospital.  Which shall remain nameless, because their ER doctor is a moron.  They did x-rays and Doppler studies to rule out a blood clot, which was good, I’ll give them that.  Then the doctor told my dad it was tendinitis and to go home and put heat on it.  He told him he didn’t have to stay home from work because staying active was going to help it heal.  They also gave him some Darvocet, woo hoo.  At least he had some relief from the pain. Okay.  

 Tuesday, no call from the doctor.  Wednesday, no call from the doctor.   Wednesday during the day Bitchsister had gone over to his house to mow the lawn (Yes, the young wife felt no need to take care of the jungle in the back yard.  Maybe it cut into her tanning bed time… Oh yeah, I’m not going to go there…)  Anyway, while sister and nephew are there, dad nearly falls twice.  Thank goodness nephew was there to literally catch him both times.  The second time he hurts twists the sore knee.  Not good.  So, Bitchsister starts to look up tendinitis on the internet, because he’s still not getting any better.  Well, hello!  Seems the treatment for tendinitis is ice, not heat, and the less activity the better.  He certainly should NOT be working for 8 hours standing on his leg.  I actually can’t give the doctor too much crap because I knew this too, and just didn’t think.  Which I really, really feel bad about.   Really…  Seriously. 

Anyway, Thursday comes and I take dad out some lunch to save him from having to eat cereal.  (Wife….? Oh yeah, not going there.)  While we’re chowing on BK the phone rings… Guess what?  It’s the VA doctor!  And it only took a week from the time of the x-rays and 4 days since dad and I both called her about his pain.  I’m glad to see nothing has changed about that VA since I worked there 15 years ago.  Idiots.  And guess what?  Dad has tendinitis!  Imagine that!  God help me, I want to go down there and throttle that woman. 

She suggested a shot of steroids to the knee (ouch) which dad declined.  She’s going to have a prescription mailed out to him for a steroid taper (any bets on how long THAT will take?) and he should feels some results in a week or so.   Augh. 

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iPod mania?

I have to post the nutty dream I had the other night since I told CBG that I would.  I should have done it right away because I’ve forgotten some of the silly details, but for some reason the main part of the dream has stuck with me.  Another friend of mine, who unfortunately I’ve never met, was also in the dream, which I thought was really odd.  For some reason we were going shopping for something for my iPod.  I can’t remember what it was, but I had to have it as soon as possible, so we were were driving all over looking for this new store in town.  When we found it, it was obviously still under construction, cement blocks all over the parking lot and brown paper on the windows of the doors, but the store was open and ready for business.   I had to go in right away, but CBG and Karen wanted to wait in the car and listen to their iPods.  What was kind of odd about the whole thing was that they didn’t have pod headphones, they had transcription headsets on that looked like stethoscopes.  Odd.  And Karen was sitting on my purse and wouldn’t get off.  So, I finally pulled my purse out from under her and took off to go shopping by myself. 

 Once I got inside the store, which was obviously and open and teeming with customers, the first thing I saw was cleaning supplies; mops, brooms, dustpans of every color and size.  I’m sure my messy house was manifesting itself in that part of the dream.  As I continued my trek down a long hallway, which reminded me of a hospital hallway, there were some teenagers behind me asking me if I was going to see Matt Hales.  Now CBG is the Matt Hales fan here, not me… I told them no, and they went on down the hall.  The next thing I hear is some guy’s voice telling them that they were late, so they could only visit for 15 minutes instead of a half hour, and the guys who had been in the hallway were upset because their pod wouldn’t record the interview.  What the heck?

Anyway, I looked all over the store for what I needed, which I never did find.  For the life of me I can’t remember what it was now, either.  I went back out to the car, to find it snowing like crazy and CBG and Karen freezing – they hadn’t thought to turn the car on.  They were mad too, because I hadn’t been able to find whatever it was I went in there fore and then Karen promised me she’d have the place shut down.  And then I woke up.  Odd enough for you? 

Maybe some dream analyzer can explain what all this means.  I really think I have the brooms and dustpan thing figured out, but Matt Hales?  I wouldn’t know him if I passed him on the street!  And why was Karen here?  I’ve talked to her, blogged with her, e-mailed her, but never met her, so how did she end up in my dream?  The snow?  The store still obviously in the process of being built?  I’m sure there are some more hidden meanings in this, but I’ll be darned if I know what they are.   Sorry CBG, I know you were expecting something besides iPod mania and Matt Hales in MY dreams!  LOL! 

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