My dear Joon...

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My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Tue Mar 23, 2010 12:23 pm

Well, here it is. A new year, and a fresh start. :)

So much has happened since we last spoke. My son has moved from the residential center into his own home, and will graduate from high school in June. It was a very scary idea, but now I see that it was the best for him. He's alone with 24/7 staff in this three-bedroom house (it's been difficult to find him house-mates due to some of their behavior), but the worry over his running off and not being properly looked are very much eased.

As for me, I'm still out of work - as though taking care of a home and a much-loved hubby and cats were not enough. It is, and though I'll never get rich in the coin of the realm, I'm happy with the way things are.

I think that's it for now. Talk later.

sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby Cassie » Sun Mar 28, 2010 5:38 pm

Good to see you journaling again :)
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Mon Apr 05, 2010 8:51 pm

It's hard to get back into writing again. I've been away from it for over a year now and I really haven't had much of anything new, other than getting my boy settled into his new home.

We're really lucky in the people who have stepped in to help him. His teacher, guardian and program manager all went to see the day programs and pick one for after graduation. Mike went along and it seems that two of the four are a very good match for him. He can actually attend both - a couple days at one and a few at the other per week! I didn't go. I just felt that it's time to let him see what he wants with the people who know him best. I've gone from a 24/7 life with my kid to not even spending a whole day per month. I just don't know him like I did and these folks do, especially his home manager who is a lovely young guy from Africa. Mike's in very good hands and I thank God for that.

I guess what I really want this journal for, joon-am, is to follow the symptoms that I've been experiencing since 2002. They're neuro in nature, beginning with a tremor in my left index finger.
Over the course of time, I've developed others and to me it appears to be Parkinson's. Now, I don't have a diagnosis and I put off thinking of that possibility for a very long time, but my therapist (I am being treated for anxiety and depression) thinks that they are psychosomatic or side-effects from the meds I'm taking. Anyway, I am going to the state university hospital as soon as I can get an appointment to see a neurologist. The last time I saw one was in 2006, and I had absolutely nothing go wrong that day :lol:. It was so embarrassing! I don't think that'll be a problem now.

I know I could blog anywhere, I know that, but I like being here. I feel surrounded by friends and so safe, which I swear I never thought I would ever say about anything so detached as the internet :). This feels like home to me, and what feels like I find, most often, is.

We've having hot dogs for supper and I need to get them going. I'll let you know more often how it's going.

love,
sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Wed Apr 07, 2010 4:05 pm

I got a call this morning from my doctor's office. I needed to call OSU for financial help, and they're sending me an application. I won't get an appointment until all this done, so we're looking at about three weeks worth of business days until then.

Legs feel very stiff, and feel like on a tightrope today. Maybe I'll write more later this afternoon...

I fell asleep about noon and woke up at 2:20. Been sleeping a lot during the day, but I can still fall asleep without much trouble at night. What I've found the most helpful is only going to stores that have shopping carts. That way I can support myself when I walk and it's not obvious. One friend offered me a walker so that I can go to the mall, but to me, nothing says "Hey, come mug me!" like that lovely, silver accessory. Besides I don't have a handicap card, so there I'd be in the south forty, shuffling to the entrance.

It's interesting when folks who haven't seen me in a month or so do, and there's a bit of a pall that comes over their faces. It's brief, but it's there and when they hug me, it's a bit warm and snugger - as if they're clamping all my shaky bits back together.

It's 8pm, and the cats are begging for their dinner. Kess keeps trying to knock my hands off the keyboard. I'd better take the hint.

'night,
sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Sat Apr 10, 2010 2:36 pm

Yesterday was great!

I had so much energy and from 7 to 2, I was out there - at one point literally speed-walking to keep up with the one sales guy. I stood in line for 40 minutes at the post office while one worker took care of a couple (spending 26 minutes of that on them alone). It seems that the house they had bought was still considered to be vacant and the mail was not being delivered because even though the house showed all the signs of occupancy, nobody had told the carrier.

Anyway, I did good - I collapsed once I got home but I did get home! Thank the Lord for walls, and carts, and counter tops! Oh, and the reason I was at the post office was because my clothing order had arrived the day before and I'd missed it. Five shirts of five different colors, and all the same style. I also tried on sandals yesterday while holding onto my shopping cart and bought three pair - all men's (I wear a nine and these are guys' sevens).

I'm sorry but women's sandals (and a lot of women's shoes) were never meant to be walked in - they're like mortician's coffin-wear - you just lie down and get carried wherever you need to go. Just cardboard strung with over-done spaghetti. Anyway, I am now officially set for summer!

Spoke to E. last night. Mike's new homey is settling in. *sigh* He hits the staff, has little or no impulse control, and at seventeen, is still in diapers. Another aging out product of children's services. After we hung up, I just bawled my eyes out for him. I can understand being overwhelmed and surrendering a child with special needs - nobody has to explain that to me...

Ah, you already know what I think. I wish I were younger and stronger, then I'd go back to school and get my own class. Together - the child, the parents and anybody else who wanted with me - we'd find the kid's potential. Abdul-Baha' definitely nailed it when it came to education. "Manners, politeness and love" are the first things you teach. I know from experience how lovely it is to be among the clean, thoughtful and compassionate, even though they cannot write or count. Of what good is being able to read and diagram sentences when you can't wipe your own bum. It's both painful and proud to be told that of these two young men living in this house, your non-verbal, picky eater is preferred to work with over the non-picky talker. And the reason most readily given is because he can take himself to the loo.

You may ask, my joon, what does manners, politeness and love have to do with this?
Well, think about it. Most people, with working noses, prefer the company of the washed and to be washed (and wiped of both nose and bottom) means not only that you care about yourself but the delicate senses of your fellow man. Anyway, enough - you're brilliant - you can surely figure out the rest...

I paused my typing, and suddenly my right thumb began conducting to an orchestra only it could sense. My left finger seems content to let it; no jealousy exists among the digits - now that's what I like to see. I'd fallen asleep this afternoon and when I woke up, I couldn't remember if I'd taken my afternoon pills or not. Still can't. Maybe, to be safe, I'll not take the dose. I don't need my blood pressure so low that it can't be found. And if I didn't take it, then maybe I'll feel a bit friskier this evening - which will be a good thing for the hubby...

Or bad - if I can grab the remote before he does. Thanks for tuning in, joon-ams.

'night-night
sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Tue Apr 13, 2010 12:14 am

Sunday afternoon was a nightmare. I think the problem was that I hadn't slept well, and didn't catch any before we went to our class. I'm doing a refresher and my husband is taking Ruhi Book 6 for the first time so we got there just as the children's class was finishing up lunch.

Leaning against the wall in the Center's dining room, I felt pretty good and nothing was moving that I didn't want to. But within a few minutes of sitting down in the living room to begin our class, I started this kind of rock and rolling in my seat. We were reading paragraphs and quotes as we went around the room, and when it got to my turn, my voice began trailing off and I could not get the last three words out. Everybody has been so very kind...

I got up a couple a times - moving makes the tremor stop - but as soon as I was comfortably in my chair, it started up again. My neck and shoulders were so sore by the time we got home. We're talking about a 2-1/2 hour class and about a 40 minute drive round-trip. Driving is no problem, because I'm constantly moving my body to keep track of traffic and my own travel - my left leg not so much, but even so I do shift it throughout.

I'm always good after a night's sleep or a nap (I'm usually sleeping during those hours we were at the Center.) This morning I was determined to get all of my winter wash done, and I tied up the laundry room with nine loads. From 5am - 11am, I washed spreads, coats, hats and gloves plus three regular loads. I still have two more routine loads to do before the week is out but they can wait.

*sigh* I wish I knew what this was. It could be medication-induced, though I doubt it. I started having problems the odd twinge & twitch 8 years ago - long, long before I began this anti-depressant/anti-anxiety regime. My balance became an issue late in '05, before I got my ESC job. I think now that the work actually helped to keep the symptoms at bay. C. will drive me to Columbus, and said that I may have to make several trips so that the doctors can get a clearer picture. The application for financial aid hasn't arrived yet - I expect it later this week.

My right shoulder is aching, and I'm running out of steam. I wanted to do some more work on DWC this evenin - my Elijah fanfic - but I'm going to have stop right now

sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Fri Apr 16, 2010 4:31 pm

TIGIF...

It's been a long, hard week but I feel very good about what I got done. Tuesday, we visited the brothers and I'd made arrangements to transfer P. from wheelchair to wheelchair without having to lift his into our car. He met us at the door with his walker. There's a tote attached to the front of it and he has it loaded with all kinds of stuff. In fact I think it's stuff breeding season. It's just an open bag that dumps everything out if we lay it down inside the trunk, and it won't fit in the back seat. Anyway I talked him into leaving it behind, knowing that there would be a chair waiting for him at L.'s.

It was a very nice drive - the first time in months that we still have daylight when we leave home.
The county is mostly back roads, very rural - cattle and horses - I feel like I can relax a little, knowing that the chances of deer strike are so much less this time of year.

We get to L's, and the main entrance has been painted, looped all around with yellow tape. So - in order to find out what's going on because the three men rocking out front with the caution strips to their backs don't know - I slip in, go down the hall, find the nurse's station - they don't know either but they got the chair. A CNA took the time to help me deliver the chair to the far entrance while I slip back out and get the car. To make a long story a little shorter, we get to L's room and he's in bed, grinning from ear to ear while his O2 burps and wheezes through its cannula. For someone who almost died a year ago, he looks very good. I tried the family - my family - joke on him, which is to ask whenever we passed a cemetery how many people were dead in it. First time with my husband - he said, "I don't know. How many?"; P. said "10,000." Only L. said "All of them."

"You are a marvel of intelligence!" says I.
"Of course I am!" says he.

We watched "STNG: First Contact" - taped off the tube since L only has a VCR and having to pause it three times for P's bathroom breaks (now that looks redundant, doesn't it?) I'm glad the guys enjoyed it - with Alice Krige as the Borg Queen, how could you not? We said good night to L, drove P back home and we made it home ourselves by 10.

I had a hard time setting down to sleep and didn't rest much throughout the night. Wednesday morning I can usually catch a nap, but E. brought our son to us from Cincy and we headed out to see the new IMAX movie. We missed the last show, but the D. and M. did get to ride the Morphis, which a jet simulator that holds up to fourteen people. Our boy was happy with that (he's become so patient when things like this happen), and that's all that really mattered.

It was another hard night for me - still could not rest, legs were spasming, I'm trembling like a leaf - so I called a friend who is usually up for lunch during the week. In fact, we decided to make it a weekly thing, every Thursday lunch, and no fast food joints. We both like to try new things and she's always on the lookout for the newest Indian, MiddleEastern or Vietnamese buffet. Hubby won't eat it if he can't spell it, so it's nice to have someone who for at least an hour or so can get me away from here.

We had Chinese and I ate my fill of soup, dumplings and dim sum. We caught up on the latest, and told each other the most recent jokes we'd heard. I've taken to answering the phone with "Daffadilly Lardbottom" - but only if I recognize the Caller ID. Anyway, I came home and slept like a stone. D. woke me up for supper - not to eat, to cook - and it was a good thing too. I didn't want to have another restless night like the other two.

It's 12:30. I've run all my errands and filled you in, joon-am, so since my eyes are closing on their own I think I'll close here.

love,
sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby Cassie » Wed Apr 21, 2010 6:27 pm

*hug* I hope you find out why your body is taking on a life of its own soon! I also hope it is just the meds, or maybe it's them making an existing mild problem worse?
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Fri Apr 23, 2010 1:38 am

Thanks, Cassie. *hugs back*

Sorry to be the bearer of more not so good news - no, I've still not gotten a diagnosis. In fact, I'm calling OSU tomorrow to make sure that my ride can take me on the days she's free. I've been in so much pain lately - right shoulder just aches like mad, but I've got to get things done. Ice packs help, and so does ibprofen (I'm taking some before sleep tonight). I'm typing with my right arm tucked close to my side so that the shoulder doesn't move.

Tuesday I had to drive to Cincy for M.'s team meeting - which went well. The new house mate and my boy have hit it off for now. Wednesday Hubby had his doctor and case manager appointments and we bought subs for dinner (that way he could eat his and let me sleep, only he forgot about them.) Annual Meeting was that evening and afterwards, one of the friends drove us home because I couldn't walk the quarter of a block back to our place.

Thursday I felt better and washed two small loads. M. and I went to lunch and she suggested getting a portable cart for groceries to take inside from the car. We couldn't find one but there was a cooler that could hold 50 quarts (or 84 cans of beer :lol:) It has wheels and a handle, and I tried it out by using it to carry in all the heavy groceries for the cats that we needed. It did a very nice job, and I realized that I could also use it for our cold food coming home from the store, as well as picnics.

I can't remember now if I mentioned that I did get and send back the financial application last Thursday. I'm calling them tomorrow because C.'s best days to take me up there are Tuesday & Wednesday - just to see if I can get one of those when they do schedule.

Can I just say this? I'm scared. I don't want to upset you, joon-am, it's just that I haven't said it. I know that D. loves me, but he has been pulling back because I know he's scared too. I'm glad that the President got the Healthcare Bill signed but it'll be four years before I'll get coverage - unless this turns out to be something serious. Anyway, I'd better get some ibprofen in me and get to bed. I have three more loads to do in the morning and then I'll be done. I'll have all the rest of the day Friday and all day Saturday to take it easy. I put together Mikey's casserole for dinner tomorrow night. All I have to do is bake it. :)

'night,
sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Fri Apr 23, 2010 3:37 pm

I called the hospital this morning to let them know what days are best for scheduling my appointment. They have no record of me, and I have no doctor's name to give them. It takes 5-6 weeks to set up my billing account, then my GP will be notified to send up her referral. Boy, do I feel sheepish.

Well...shoulder still hurts, but laundry is finished. Got a lot accomplished this week :). I've got a little margarita pizza in the oven for lunch, and then I can listen to the radio.

Have a wonderful weekend, joon-ams! I know I'll be by see things later but need to go now.

sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Mon Apr 26, 2010 9:28 pm

Saturday was. Very little tremor but shoulder is still crabby and balance was more out of whack. No problem - just kept to home where everything's close by and easy. Sunday at Ruhi was hard. The friend who had promised us a ride forgot and so I drove. I got one of the love seats and with hubby on my right, had him put his arm around me so that the heat from his chest was against my shoulder. Cold doesn't do as good a job - right now it's really acting up - but I want to write.

Speaking of which, I've given up on my fanfic for now. It needs work. I'm not the same as I was six years ago, in fact some of the things I wrote about in DWC actually came true!

My therapist and I met this morning, and I do have a diagnosis from her. I'm a sensitive - basically the polar-opposite of a sociopath. I care about everything and everybody to an 'unhealthy' extent (not my word). I was feeling sorry about refusing a potted plant from a friend. Right now, I can't bear the thought of caring for another living thing. And begonias are living things. I thought I'd hurt his feelings, but C. says I'm projecting. She asked me if I want to get better, and I couldn't answer. I don't want to be cold and unfeeling, I don't want to shrug at the pain of others, and I have a very hard time entertaining the idea that occasional suffering is part of some grand design.
She thinks we can find balance - I don't think so. I'd rather be as I am but I'm afraid that if I say that, that she'll abandon me.

I know that if I were there when that man was stabbed by the mugger, he'd be alive now. I stepped in when a boy was being beaten on a sidewalk - I sat in my car and blew my horn until his attackers ran away. He wouldn't come to me and ran away too, but at least I stopped it that time. My sister and I were at a playground and a toddler was left standing in the sun, hot and sobbing. Nobody would approach her - my sister said I was nuts if I did - but I picked her up and took her into the shade just a couple of feet from where she was. I wiped her face, gave her a drink of water and said I'd wait with her for her mommy. Minutes later, her mother came back with her older brother, saying that she had told her daughter to stay put until she got back. The little boy had run off and she left the little girl to go find him. I wanted to ask why she didn't take the baby with her but didn't. She just wanted to get both of the kids and herself home.

I wish I was on that New York sidewalk last week...

Arm's too sore. Maybe tomorrow.

'night,
sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Sat May 01, 2010 12:49 am

It's Friday, joon, and am I tired. This was the hardest week I've had so far. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday I shopped for groceries by myself. My honey helps me - he always does when I ask - but the best time of day for him is after 2pm, right when I'm running out of steam. I always have done better very early in the day, even before all this nonsense.

The coleman chest is wonderful. I've had more to carry in all three days than I could put into it at one time, but it was great for the canned food and I could take them all in one trip. Getting up the steps was tricky at first, but, once I figured out the concrete stoop, the inside stairs are carpeted and they were no trouble at all.

Thursdays are a treat. I got up at 4:30 this one so that I could do all my laundry before I meet M. for lunch. It's always something different. We both like ethnic food beyond the Chinese buffet and the Mexican lunch specials, though we hit them too. We decided on Italian - it was okay, though not really it's fault. Nothing seems to taste as good as I think it would. Anyway, M. had been wanting me to restore a doll and this time she remembered to take it down from the top of the closet. It's a 1947-1952 "Toni" - a 90-W, and I hadn't a clue what that meant. But I love dolls and had been doing some rescue and resell for the past 15 years, so I wanted to try.

I should have taken a nap when I got home, but I was so excited about having something so special to do, that I just got right to work. The Toni is hard-plastic, 14" tall and the body is that of a tween. She has long blond saran hair, hazel sleep-eyes and a mechanism inside that enables her to walk (hence the W, I reckon). She had lovely face paint (underneath the makeup that M.'s younger self had smeared all over) and she was covered in grime. I goo-goned the wig, set that aside and removed the long bolt that held the legs. The arms were strung with rubber bands (which broke when I disconnected them - no biggie, I have new) and put all four pieces including the head with the torso, into my dishwasher (no dry cycle). She came out very clean - not minty - but not looking like she'd been sleeping under a bridge either. I washed the wig with oil soap (the cap held together great - but then I didn't mess with it much) and worked a dab of vasoline into the hair. It combed out all the way, very smooth and shiny to the waist and I felt good about snipping off those frizzy ends which were beyond help. Once all the bits were dry, I oiled the mechanism and reassembled her, just tacking on the wig enough that it would stay on her head (M. thinks she wants to replace it; I hope I can change her mind). I did get the walker to work but she really needs a doll-doc to make her pristine - at a cost much higher than mine, which is for love only. The eyes will open and close if you grip her cheeks and give her head a slight pull, which is better because they did neither before. M's mother was a friend of mine - a very sweet lady who died a dozen years ago from emphysema - and while the doll's original clothes are still in a box, they're as delicate as a moth's wing.

Sarah - M's mom - had made this little sundress, complete with panties and a cloth belt, and I was amazed by the tiny hand stitching. I tapped a little fabric glue on where it was frayed and got her dressed. My should hurt so bad that I was crying at the end, but I was too stubborn to quit! I had all the time in the world to do this, but I just couldn't take it slow. Anyway, she's beautiful now - ready for next Thursday's lunch - once I get her a doll stand. I can't wait to see M's face! She was very close to her mother, and took care of her at the end; those little clothes mean a lot to her.

There's more I wanted to write but it'll have to wait. Gosh, it's almost 9 o'clock. Tomorrow I'll tell you about today - oh, and the dreams that I had this week! I want more like them!

'night, joons
sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Tue May 04, 2010 10:08 pm

Friday we visited Mike - our son, his real name (I just get so tired of all the initials. I'd rather change names than do that anymore) - and we met his homey, Jake (not his real name), for the first time.

We arranged to come by in the morning, casserole in tow, to bake in Mike's oven and I made up a gift bag of candy for Jake. When I asked about doing this, E. suggested food and the first plan was to bring him a Happy Meal. But the more I thought of it, the more it seemed I should get something that Mike has no interest in. It was a good thing too, because nobody was at the house when we arrived. I made a call, and within minutes we had people to unlock the door. Jake's provider had taken him for an outing and they were just late getting back.

Anyway, I started baking the casserole and this timid, little kid opened the front door.

"Hi!"
"Hi."
"Who are you?"
"Mike's mom and dad." (He shook Duane's hand, and spotted the gift bag on the dining room table).
"Is that a present?"
"Yeah."
"Is it for me?"
"Go look and see."
"CANDY! I'm taking it with me!"

And so he did. The provider left with him for his bedroom to change him, and didn't come back with it. I could hear paper tearing from where we were in the living room, so I thought I'd check. I knocked on his door and found Jake on his bed, surrounded by Snicker's wrappers. It was a package of six regular bars, and he was on his fourth.

"Do you like your present?"
"Yes."
"Do you think it'd be a good idea to save these two for tomorrow?"
"Okay."

He gave them back to me with a big grin and I took them back to the kitchen, apologizing to his provider. But he wasn't worried, neither was E. when he got there.
Jake's quite the chatterbox, and repeats the same things over even if he's been given the answer...

No kid should ever be left to mercy of others - and in a perfect world they wouldn't be, I know - but that there's no woman who at least wants to mother him? Besides me?
The staffers took him outside to play, would try to keep him occupied while we visited our boy.

When Mike came home, he went straight for the oven (the bus driver asked E. why Mike was suddenly so excited and giggling; he saw our car once they cleared the corner.) He barely acknowledged us at first, paying more heed to the dish and spatula I held than me. Daddy sat beside him, and I filled up his plate more than once; he ate over 2/3rds of the pan before he was finished. While I tupperwared the leftovers, my two guys went to the livingroom, and as I scrubbed my bakeware, I didn't notice that I'd taken to wiping the counter.

"Mrs. D, what are you doing!" That was E., rushing to grab the rag from my hand. "That is for staff! You do not clean here! Go and sit with your son!"

It never happens that I get reprimanded for working. But I did as I was told and my family and I watched Spongebob until Mike got up, bowed and with a giggle, threw his palm toward the front door. It was time for us to leave. I gave him two kisses - snuck in a third - and as we got to the the door, I turned around and saw my big boy beaming at me. A high voice tore around the corner.

"Bye, Mike's Mom! Bye, Mike's Dad!"
"Bye, Jake! Be good now!...Bye, Michael." And my Mike disappeared down the hall.

sara
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shireling
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Sun May 09, 2010 12:09 am

Geeze what a week! It started out with almost nothing and by the end - whew!

Wednesday - Cinco de Mayo. I had a doctor's appointment. Colette had to work, so this is one of the few times I've gone alone. I need to mention that I'd started to use the walking stick again as of last Sunday. Getting around outside of home has become increasingly difficult - hip joints, knees and ankles are very stiff and the faster I tried to go, the shorter my steps become and I find myself shuffling along. I made the stick myself with the help of the maintenance crew here in my complex (it was originally an eight-foot flagpole with the filial removed and twenty-six inches cut off.) I sanded the rough edges with an emery board, then painted them over with clear nail polish, stuck a rubber floor protector on the bottom, drilled a hole near the top with my hand drill and ran a leather lace through that. It helped with my balance when I had to hurry to work and just strolling around the block (this was back in '06, if I remember right), but this time it seemed more a nuisance.

Anyway, I was asked at the last appointment to make a list of things that I wanted. Sky was the limit, they told me, nothing is too incredible. So among the things I listed (seven) I asked for a handicapped-placard. Needing to park close is the reason why I go so early in the day for everything; she thought it was a good idea and gave me a prescription for it. Seeing my stick, she thought I should get a four-point cane. It's made to help with balance, and it'll stand alone. Then she had me perform a few neuro-tasks - touching my thumb to each individual finger, touching my nose and then touching her moving finger, and standing with my eyes closed. I had trouble with all of them...

I asked her opinion. With the resting tremor (shakes when sitting still, stops when moves), she said, it looks like Parkinson's, but for the rest, like multiple-sclerosis.

I still hadn't heard back from OSU, but she thought that maybe I should have an MRI to take with me. We scheduled it for the next day at the Valley's south site (which is just around the corner from us). I was going out with Mel and Bobby for lunch, but I had time to fill the prescription at the BMV. It's mine for five years. God, how strange this all seems...all of it.

Mel's doll went back to her today (we should have taken before and after pics, now that I think of it). I'd finished gluing on the wig (later it didn't make sense to just tack it on; if Mel was set on getting a new one, there'd be no use for the old anyway), and you can run comb through the hair with very little trouble.

I had Mel close her eyes while I set the Toni - right leg up, arms close to the sides, hair flying out behind - so that she's step-dancing. She was delighted, so happy with how the doll's turned out. Now Mel's got her childhood friend back, wearing her mom's handiwork, and showing her heritage all rolled into one. She told me she's going to display the Toni in the living room - which thrills me to no end :). Mel wants to pay me for the work, but I'll pass. There's some things that just don't have a price.

We met Bobby at Toro's - the place was absolutely packed. I don't remember much about our conversation - the food was great, the salsa was fresh, and the guacamole was a lovely shade of avocado - but then I had other things on my mind.
After lunch, I went shopping for a cane.

I know I could have found one cheaper/better/lighter/nicer if I'd gone to ACME/Canes "R" Us - I know so because I've been told - but I wanted to walk in the light of day without appearing tipsy and the sooner the better. So there's this medical supply shoppe just down the road in the neighboring pricey township, and I made a bee line for it. I stumped in with my stick, and next to the counter was this dark blue number covered in golden suns, crescent moons and star clusters. It's base is a metal rectangle with four little rubber feet, one in each corner. Everyone could see that we were made for each other, especially since it was the only one there. It did cost a bunch, but way less than three figures, and the ladies adjusted it for me so that the handle hits my wrist...

(It's Saturday now that I'm writing (been doing what I can and storing drafts until I come back - love this feature!) and since Wednesday 'the giraffe' and I have become fast friends. I'm covering the ground much faster than before and I don't fear falling. I'd don't feel so afraid to go out alone either, now that I can park close no matter what the time of day.)

I just wish that I didn't feel so tired. My shoulder had been fine up until a minute ago and now it's barking at me. It just doesn't do to continue - I don't say things as I mean to because I hurt - so I'll put it down. I really should write every day, even if just for five minutes. Things are moving so fast.

anyway, 'night and love you all,
sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Tue May 11, 2010 12:23 am

It's Sunday/Monday, and only now am I writing about last Thursday.

I'd never had an MRI before. They wanted me there early. Originally they said it would take forty-five minutes, and I had paper work to fill out - what they call HCCP (it's for the uninsured and based on income). After that, they sent me to wait outside imaging.

I'd never been in this part before, either. It was all shiny, chrome and marble, like the lobby of a Jedi VFW Hall. A player baby grand was tinkling something yanni with a 30 foot waterfall standing to the west, its water rolling down in sheets. A fireplace sat low between the two, a chain mail curtain corralled the logs. Enter this guy who looks like the designer from Flip This House (he's never heard of it, and I'm sorry I have) and he takes me back behind the unmarked door.

I read off my med list (four drugs), answered questions that I don't remember - except for the one. I wish now that I hadn't told him that I'd gotten a metal splinter in my eye.
It was back in day; I was 17, running a drill press and the thing flew off, jumped my goggles and stuck the white of my right eye. It burned and cut every time I moved, and when the super said it didn't seem that serious and that I didn't need the hospital, I went completely insane. I went to the hospital, and they pulled it out with a magnet. I got drops, a lovely apology and a trip home.

Anyway, that scared the radiologist into wanting a head film to make sure that I was metal-free. I said you're kidding, since I'm over three times 17, it would have shown up by now, don'tcha think? Sorry, says he, must x-ray head for anal specialist or no MRI of the brain.

The tech wheeled me down the hall, laid me out and had me tilt my head up toward the back wall and then down toward my feet. Buzz-zap, buzz-zap, buzz-zap. Then it was time for the MRI...

The ceiling to the place looked like a frosted skylight, framed in wood with flowered branches resting overhead, and the first thing I heard was chirping but it wasn't birds. It was the machine, which looked an overweight Stargate, and was singing to itself between victims. The board I laid down on reminded me of my high school balance beam, I mean talk about narrow. I was offered music (I demurred), then earplugs (I took the music). I asked for "Moody Blues". Headphones went over my ears, a washcloth went over my eyes, and a call-bulb was put in my hand.

I don't remember what he told me after that - but I figure holding still was one of them. The board moved - or maybe it was the tube - and squished my arms in down to my elbows. My right shoulder was crushed and I could barely make out 'Ride My Seesaw' (actually the machine is all you hear - whiz, bang, knock, bam, boom, bam-bam-bam - well, you get the idea). Trooper that I am, I went inside my head and slow blew like I was having contractions - Breathing...it's not just for labor any more! - ah, I crack myself up...

It wasn't that bad, actually. I'm glad they were done in 20 instead of 45. I went right home to bed and when I woke up it was 7. I couldn't tell if it was morning or night - then Duane, delighted to see I was awake - well, my eyes were open - asked when we were going to have supper...

It's late, I hurt, I gotta stop :(.

sara
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