March 2016 is upon Us! (what?)

To say I have been busy lately is an understatement of gargantuan proportions. In January and February I have been away from home 19 nights… not all for total relaxation, but close. Thankfulness is alive and well in my heart, but still, home life goes on and needs attention. Plants die without mama.

There is a relief in the force (as opposed to a disturbance) as Nora’s online school is over. We “affectionately” called it Stupid School. And it is OHHH-VER! What I learned from this experience: RUN as fast as you can from public online school. They do not care about your kid even 1/100 of what you do. Parents have the final say… period. It’s MY kid. Not yours. We endured the 100 days required to qualify for her to have double the time with her reading specialist, whom we love. Now we are in a blissful state of Little House on the Prairie…. quilting, cooking, planting, playing, discovering, reading and of course we are on season four, episode five of the Prairie-thon. Perfection! Homeschooling rocks my socks.

Today is March. How in the world did that happen? This month marks THREE YEARS since my car accident where the uninsured 19-year-old gal pulled in front of me and I hit her good. The steering wheel air bag malfunctioned and only came out one side, impacting my right shoulder. March 2016 marks THREE YEARS of my shoulder hurting every day. I am not one to whine or complain (unless we share a bed) so most people are surprised to hear this news. Low-grade constant pain is exhausting. Seriously.

Name a type of shoulder pain therapy, I guarantee I have tried it unsuccessfully. I do have a few fond memories of quirky attempts, such as the acupuncturist who put a ring of 12 needles in my shoulder and explained the it was called “Circle the Dragon” and would relieve my pain. I rebuked the dragon and called it “Circle the Wagons” but still, it did nothing. Then there was the medieval torture tools that were dragged and scraped on my shoulder creating colorful bruises… all for naught.

Today, March 1, 2016, I endured a shoulder MRI with contrast injection. Tears running down into my ears, it was all I could do to lie still and breathe. The doctor informed me that this was the epiphany of tests and he WILL be able to tell me what’s wrong. Good. I hope he’s right and no more needles are necessary… wagons or dragons.

My 17-year-old son, Keeve, drove me to my appointment for moral, emotional and physical support. I just returned home to collapse and do nothing for the rest of the day. Eight hours til bedtime. Kids, you’re on your own for dinner. It is Taco Tuesday and there is a Rubio’s gift card in my wallet. If you read my blog, you score.

Go with God.

So Glad You Asked!

Asked What? Happy 13th month anniversary of my car accident!  Break out the sparkling cider!  I thought an update was due, since it is the stupid accident’s fault that my blogging has slowed so.

How are you? I’m fantastic, but improving daily. My right arm still hurts every day, usually just my shoulder, but some days it’s all the way to my elbow.  It is not cry-in-the-corner pain.  It is low-grade only-take-ibuprofen-about-twice-a-week pain.  On six of seven mornings, my first wakeful thought is, “Oh, my arm hurts,” and then I go on with my day.  But it is draining and most days I’m exhausted by 3:00 p.m. just from normal wear and tear of being a homeschool mom.  I don’t make dinner as much as I used to.  My house isn’t as clean as it was just over a year ago. I can’t seem to muster blogging strength or humor. Back in the day, when in the depths of a writing project, I could sit at the computer for six to seven hours and get lost in my own thoughts and words.  Now, after about 20 minutes of typing I need a heat pack on my shoulder and max typing is about 40 minutes.

How is treatment going? We have exhausted all forms of treatment, save pulling out my toenails so I think of something else instead of the pain in my shoulder. I have had therapy, nerve testing, multiple injections in my neck and shoulder, Graston treatment (think of medieval torture instruments being dragged across already wounded muscles), multiple MRIs, massage, pain management and my last resort, being the wimp that I am about needles, acupuncture.  Nothing has improved in the last six months.  So I quit acupuncture.  Seriously, I would have to psych myself up to go and then not look at the 20 needles sticking me twice a week.  I did ten sessions.  I gave it the old college try.  Then I quit.  And I’m really good with that decision. The doctor put in a circle of needles on my shoulder every visit and told me once that it is called “circle the dragon.”  I’m not into all that Eastern medicine hokey-pokey-kung-phuey, so in my mind it came to be known as “circle the wagons.” (You know how much I love 1850’s westerns!) Weekly massage is ongoing.  It’s not the feel-good-and-relax-when-you’re-on-a-cruise massage, sadly.  It’s the work-out-the-pain-and-hold-back-the-tears massage.

What next? We are planning on settling the personal injury case in a “this is as good as it’s going to get” state. Highly disappointing, but I am not without hope of healing from the God who closed a hole in my baby girl’s heart, caused cartilage to grow in my son’s flimsy ear and worked miracle after miracle to bring Nora to our family.  There is ALWAYS hope!

How can we pray? Thank you for asking! Pray that complete healing will come. Pray that I learn whatever dumb lesson I’m supposed to be learning in the waiting time. Pray that God’s will be done.  THANK YOU!!!

It Has Come to THIS

Sorry, another post-accident report but thankfully not from the couch!  I lived on the couch for six long weeks.  At first it was because of the damage to my legs from the airbag UNDER the steering wheel. (You might want to check if you have an air bag down there and wear shin guards while driving, if you do.)  On day #4 post-accident, I realized my shoulder was hurt and that I couldn’t lie on either side on the couch OR in bed.  I am still in that state… flat on my back in bed with my legs elevated…. with a pile of pillows crammed against the back of my reading chair so as not to fall off the bed.  But I digress.

After my 6th week of “no significant improvement” at therapy, I was sent for nerve testing.  Nerve testing = acupuncture.  Or more appropriately, you are now a voodoo doll.  The good news out of that supremely stressful doctor visit was that I was sent to pain management, who promptly put me on medication #27. (Do not fear, I have stopped taking the first 23.)  Med27 plays some sort of hokus-pokus on my nerves and I have had a VAST improvement in range of motion for my right arm.  Read: I still can’t lift the milk jug, but the therapist did a happy dance that I can now scratch a giraffe’s neck.  Side effects of Med27 include, but are not limited to: drowsiness, lack of short term memory, general lethargy and an overwhelming desire to do nothing.

All that said, the eight day camping trip to the Grand Canyon, Mesa Verde, Canyon de Chelley, Four Corners, the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest that didn’t happen in April has been reduced to a five day camping trip to the Grand Canyon.  Commencing on Monday, June 3rd.  Two days from right now.  Thankfully, the other crazy homeschool mom, CJ, whom we have been studying National Parks with all year, has picked up my slack and we are venturing forth in two days from right now.  CJ went so far as to purchase a Sprinter van seating 14 that her 6’4″ husband can stand up inside.  Read:  I don’t have to drive at all OR pack a car.  As per usual, the week before departure, we went through our lists of what to take.  The division of camping equipment went something like this: CJ CJ CJ CJ CJ me CJ CJ CJ CJ CJ me. And that might be an exaggeration for “me’s”.  Thank you, CJ!

Today about 4:12 pm, I realized what my life has come down to.  Normally when embarking on a road trip, I print packing lists for my kids.  (Remember, I am a list maker.  I thrive on lists.  I make detailed lists.  I am an overachiever at making lists.) But never in my 20 years of parenting have I printed an extra “kid packing list” for myself.  This is what it has come to… and I’m O.K. with it.  Except I added to the bottom of mine: Med27.

Happy Camping this summer!

My Husband’s 1st and Only Attempt at giving Me Acupuncture

Meet Trixie.  She’s our four-year-old Rat Terrier. One day I noticed Trixie was not eating and she was hunching her little back, so I took her to the vet.  Seems she was dehydrated, had an obstruction in her intestines and needed an IV.  We have an insurance plan for our dog so the “visit” was covered…. just not anything during the “visit”, like IV or X-rays…. but we have SAVED $1,498 since joining the scam plan.  The X-rays revealed… well, not much, but closing time was approaching so we were required to move Trixie to an Emergency Vet Clinic.

My husband, Rick, met his wife, kids and dog at the clinic, where we were all ushered into a room with the “car salesman award winner” canine technician.  She knew all the buzz words and was in her element.  “On a scale of 1 to 10,” she spit out while waving her hands by her ears, “just looking at your dog, THIS IS A TEN.  She needs surgery!  NOW!”  Talk about high pressure sales. 

Rick calmly replied, “How much does that cost?” 

“With the required overnight stay, anesthesia and surgery, ONLY $1,500 to $1,800 plus the extra cost for calling the Dr. and the anesthesiologist in after hours.” 

“Now, hold on.  What happens if she doesn’t get surgery?”  I thought it was a valid question.  The pet tech was aghast at the suggestion of questioning her analysis of the situation.  She flatly told us that it was mandatory.  Rick’s next question threw me a bit.  He commented on how much better the dog was now looking, then whispered out the side of his mouth so the kids couldn’t hear him, “How much to put the dog down?”  I knew he wouldn’t do it, but I also knew there would be no $1,500 + extras surgery.

I left at that point to take one of the kids to some sort of lesson or practice. We all arrived home that night… even Trixie.  Rick refused to leave the dog in their care and was sent home with IV bags to be administered every 8 hours.  I quickly did the calculations and realized Rick would be at work during a few of those times.  I HATE needles.  That was the worse part of childbearing, in my opinion…. the IV in the hand.  Still makes me shudder.  I looked at my husband and relayed that I would not be playing nursemaid to the dog… especially if needles were involved… and I went to bed. 

Later Rick came and kindly asked me to at least hold the dog so he could give her the bag of fluid.  All went well…. the dog bed on the kitchen table with the docile animal lying still.  The needle was inserted… but the IV bag was just out of reach.  So as I’m holding the dog with the needle in her neck, Rick is balancing the IV tubes over my head while reaching for the bag of juice.  Whammo!  It happened so fast I couldn’t believe my own bloodshot eyes.  The needle came out of the dog and into the back of my hand… inches from my birthing IV entrance points.  I let go of the dog.  The needle fell to the floor, spraying liquid nutrition in short bursts on the tile, and I spoke clearly but quietly while holding my wound, “That’s it! I am going back to bed.”

I prayed that I wouldn’t get rabies, or scabies, or ringworm or fleas from the acupuncture treatment…. and I didn’t.  I’m still here to tell the story… but don’t ever ask me to help out with animal drug administrations!