About two weeks ago, my lymph nodes in my neck started to swell.  Totally a normal thing for the Lyme, so no worries, right?  WRONG!  While the one on the right stayed around about the  normal size of a regularly swollen lymph node (you know, grape sized) the one on the left continued to grow.  I mentioned it to my nurse on her normal weekly visit, who promptly replied with (surprise, surprise) “yeah, that’s a normal Lyme thing.”  Ok, no biggie. 

By the next Monday, a week ago, I was feeling pretty run down.  That left lymph had reached the size of a small egg, and was visible to the naked eye, but only after being pointed out.  But I was stuffy, so I figured head cold, no big deal.  Annoying, yes, but worrisome, no.  Tuesday, was worse.  By the time I got home, I was seeing double and wanted nothing more but to lay down.  Forever.  My nurse came over Wednesday, promptly noticing that I did not go to work, and after donning her protective mask (always a good sign!), checked me out.  The left lymph was now a medium sized egg encroaching quickly on the large.  I assured her I had no intention of going to work any time soon, so she did her thing (blood draw, checked my symptoms, temp, blood pressure) and left.  Thursday brought my monthly check up with my doc.  By 2pm, the left lymph was lime sized (ha, ironic huh?) and very visible.  Besides that, Wednesday evening onwards it had been pushing so hard on everything else that should fit quite comfortably in that region of my neck that my teeth, inner ear, jaw, and throat were throbbing with pain.  The doc checked me out and was visibly concerned.  My earlier (completely stupid, overzealous, and morbid) Internet research of swollen lymphs being the first sign of lymphoma all over his face. 

He gave me a shot of cortisone in the upper hip, which by the way really freaking hurts!  And wrote me three new prescriptions: Prednisone, Valtrex, and high dose potassium (apparently the antibiotics are lowering my potassium levels…hence those weekly blood draws) and told me to take a 4 day break from my IV therapy to let my body recover.  I had more blood drawn in the office to check for lymphoma, another Epstein-Barr panel, and whatever else may be going on in there, and headed home and back to bed. 

Friday I woke up feeling somewhat normal, that is, until I tried to eat.  Pepperoni pizza and Mt. Dew.  Except I couldn’t taste anything.  I could smell it.  I could feel the spice of the pepperoni on my tongue, but no taste whatsoever.  WTF, man?!  So I left a message at my docs office to see what was going on, which was later returned with an “oh that’s normal.”  Ok, great.  (My taste did return by Saturday morning)  I had to take th boy to meet his dad for Christmas on Saturday, and with the projected snow, we decided to drive up Friday night, spend the night, and come home a little earlier on Saturday.  Not needing to do any infusions til Monday, I packed my stack of pills, but did not bring my IV supplies. 

Saturday morning we woke to fluffy white mountains of snow, and falling snow, and blowing snow…you get the idea.  We dropped the boy early, ate breakfast (mmmm…Cracker Barrel) and headed out at about 1030 for our short 3 hours drive home.  Yeah, right.  While the roads were clear of traffic, another round of blizzard came through in the early afternoon and by 3pm the plows had given up clearing snow from the highways and the visibility was so bad we were forced to find a hotel for the  night, 2 hours from home.  Not such a bad thing under normal circumstances, but…

The doc also recently put me on Vyvanse, an mild ADHD medication to help with my Lymie brain fog.  It works great for that, except that it also makes me TOTALLY WIRED for about 20 hours after taking it.  Also, the steroids (prednisone) make me jittery, and being in a heated vehicle for two days, driving under stressful conditions had completely dried out and worn out my body to no end.  So I was totally wasted physically, but completely wired mentally.  Not a good combination for rest. 

Then I noticed, my tube was fairly, uh, empty. 

Normally, my tube, the 6 or so inches of tubing that hangs out of my chest from my catheter, is full of heparin (blood thinner) between IV infusions.  Being a “Groshong” catheter, it is specifically designed to be self-sealing, nothing in, nothing out unless there is pressure placed on the valve, like from a syringe pushing fluid or pulling blood.  That is the point of the thing.  So if there is nothing in my tube, specifically only 2 inches worth of fluid in the 6-ish inches worth of tube, where the hell did it go?  At home, I probably would have just flushed some saline through and called it a day, but, I didn’t bring any saline.  And I was snowed into some out of the way hotel in the middle of who knows where because there is a million feet of snow outside.  So now what? 

When we finally got home Sunday afternoon, the mere 2 inches of fluid that were in the tube were completely gone.  I called the 24-hour nurse hot line, trying not to panic in front of Mr. W and his sensitivities to all things that may cause me pain or discomfort.  The nurse on the line was utterly confused.  Not in the confused way that he was inept, but in the confused way that it’s not supposed to ever go dry.  No matter what.  It’s designed that way.  That’s the freaking point of the thing!  So he told me to clamp my tube as close to my body as I can, and a nurse will be out to check it in the morning.  Meanwhile, if I have any weird feelings, especially in my chest, head to the ER.  Ok, yeah, that will help me sleep.  Thanks.  Oh yeah, and in “clamping my tube close to my body,” that has basically resulted in the clamp, roughly the size and shape of a pair of kiddie-scissors across my chest, held in place with two ace bandages wrapped around my upper body and a sports bra.  On the inside, things are digging and pinching and just plain uncomfortable.  On the outside, I look like I’ve sprouted a third, rather misshapen boob in the center of my chest, slightly higher than the other two.  Luckily, I’m fairly un-endowed in the boob department, so it could be worse.  I suppose. 

I spoke to my nurse this morning, and she talked me through drawing out the air, so I’ll be trying that later on this afternoon.  And the adventures in Lyme continue…

The so-called “honeymoon phase” of a relationship is a grand and wonderful thing.  Everything seems to fall away in the presence of, or even a mere thought of that new(ish) someone special.  One can easily pass hours, days, weeks without even realizing.  Time is easily filled with just being together.  *sigh* And how long does it last?  I guess it’s different for different people in different situations.  I suppose it could easily go on for years with a young couple in the prime of their lives and careers, with no kids or severe responsibilities.  When talking and love-making are all that’s really important. 

Someone recently told me “you can’t stop the Earth from spinning.”  It’s true.  You can’t.  I’ve tried.  Oh, to hold on to those honeymoon times forever.  To shed responsibility and live in the rapture that is new love.  It feels almost as if the Earth has stopped spinning for those moments…almost.  But in the end it all comes back into focus in jarring reality.  Life does in fact go on, and responsibilities still sit at your door and wait for you, no matter how long it takes for you to come out. 

Mr. W and I have a fantastic relationship.  In the beginning, we were fully enchanted with the honeymoon stages of things.  Responsibilities fell away and things like sleep just didn’t feel important.  Of course, this was also before the boy started school and my kids were still on the 2 weeks here, 2 weeks there rotation, so, no, I did not totally cast off all responsibility for a piece of ass, thank you very much.  Anyway.  Right around the time we moved in together and he left for Iraq, all that slowing of the Earth on its axis snapped back with full force and we’ve been struggling to recover ever since. 

There are: kid issues, health issues (oh, my are there health issues!), a need for sleep that can’t be ignored, insomnia (on both our parts), schedules with my exes, schedules with his ex, schedules with work, schedules with family, pets, holidays, time off, sick time, working, college, schools, housework, yard work, financial issues, stresses from all sides, creative transportation arranging (i.e. carting kids here and there), doctors appointments for 6 different people, dentist appointments, braces, learning to drive, buying a car, buying a house, selling a house, moving, storing, decluttering, organizing, Christmas shopping, dinners, lunches, groceries, cooking, planning, exercising, not exercising, great intentions and epic fails…the list of life goes on and on…and on.

It all seems to have come at once, knocking us square on our asses, struggling to regain our footing in the world, that damn spinning world.  But we are doing it together.  We are side by side in all of it, helping each other get a foothold here, dragging each other down as we slip there, but together through it all.  In the end, what more could you really ask for? 

I don’t think a successful relationship can be judged purely on happiness.  Seriously.  No one, no one in the world is 100% happy 100% of the time.  It’s not possible.  Unless they secretly found a way to stop the Earth from spinning and are happily living in one of their moments of happiness, but I highly doubt it.  The glory of life is it’s ups and downs.  How can you possibly know how good things are now if they’ve never been bad?  How can you know true happiness if you’ve never felt sadness?  How can you  know the true height of joy if you’ve never seen the true depth of despair?  Good and evil must coexist in order to be, so how could the same not hold true to the other pairs?  Mr. W and I have both been to the lowest of lows and have come out the other side fully ready to appreciate the high that is us.  We’ve had heartbreak and have mended each other’s hearts.  We’ve had despair and brought tears of joy to each other’s eyes.  We’ve been broken and have worked to put each other back together again.  That’s just how we roll. 

The best of the best?  We are just there.  Through the hard and the bad and the sad and the stressing, we are there.  No time in our relationship (so far) has been harder than now.  But we are still there.  All those things I listed above, all those responsibilities and “problems,”  yeah, we’ve got them.  Even without the added external stresses (kids, jobs, schools, etc, etc) we have quite literal “shit” going on just with us, or more to the point, me.  My Lyme disease = pain (physical for me, emotional for him), moodiness on both sides, stress, worry, and more stress, financial difficulty (yeah, doctors’ bills.  Gotta love ‘em!), and limits in just about everything, and really, who likes having limits?  But he’s there.  He’s here.  He stands by me.  Yes, sometimes he has trouble accepting his role of stand-next-to-er and tries to do that man thing of trying to fix everything.  But he’s working on that.  I can see where it’s hard to be helpless in all this.  To witness so much pain and suffering and not be able to do a thing about it.  I understand. 

And he tries. 

And we do it all together.  As best friends, as lovers, as soul-mates, as the most wonderful us we can be.  Together. 

******************************************************************************************************************************************************** 

I’m getting my chest port/Groshong catheter put in on Friday morning.  I’m freaking the hell out!  He quit smoking already, for me, and for him, and for me.  He said he finally has a reason to want to live a long healthy life.  All together now: *awwww*    I’m quitting too, although not as abruptly, or successfully.  But it’s hard to quit when you are freaking the hell out about something less than a week away.  He gets it without my explanation.  He accepts my weakness and loves me still.  Would you still love me if I were 400lbs?  Would you still love me if I lost all my hair?  Will you still love me when I’m old?  Will you still love me with a 4″ long tube sticking out of my chest? 

Of course he will.  And I call him Mr. Wonderful!

So after totally inundating myself with information, and then cleaning up the mess after my brain exploded all over my desk, I finally called my mom.  My mom is, well, my mom,  but she is also an RN who has been nursing for over 35 years.  She’s had the formal training, but unfortunatly a giant majority of her nursing time has been spent in the psych ward, so while she gave me her opinio, she insisted that I talk to my step father about it.  So she called him and had him call me. 

Initially when I told him of my dilemma, he immediately went full Portacap (chest thingy).  He explained both procedures to me, and took into account my lifestyle in his recommendation.  The Portacap isn’t exposed (unlike my previous assumptions) so the risk of infection is crazy-reduced.  It’s actually inserted underthe skin and virtually undetectable, except for the little scar opening to put it in.  The needle that is used pierces the skin to access the cap.  The PICC line, on the other hand is “like two half-straws dangling from your bicep” all. the. time.  So there is the risk of infection, sepsis (that nasty thing you can DIE from), and of course there’s the aesthetics of it, even with a sleeve to cover.  So he was all about the chest port…until I mentioned that my needle would remain in me for a week at a time since the plan is for once or twice daily infusions.  Would that be an issue with my kids?  With my activity level?  Which, granted isn’t the highest on a 1-10 scale, but still…  At that point, he reluctantly changed his recommendation.  He was thinking on a dialysis point of view, where treatments are two or three times a week, so the needles are removed after each treatment.  He admitted the whole needle-sticking-out-of-my-chest thing was a little more risky than the PICC line, so yeah, go with the PICC.   And then he proceeded to tell me in VERY. DETAILED. INSTRUCTIONS. all the things I will do and need to do and should do and shouldn’t do, yada, yada, yada.  Don’t get me wrong.  I totally appreciate the information and advice.  Small doses are better for me at the moment though.  My memory is, well, non-existent at the moment. 

Seriously.  I have to write notes to  myself on my hands during the day.  Hopefully between washing my hands in the bathroom and getting back to my desk I can remember what it is I washed off so I can rewrite it.  And then I count on Mr. W seeing it when I get home so I will actually remember what it is I needed to remember.  Yeah.  It’s like that.  I can’t even remember how I started this post.  The fabulous Girl from the Ghetto left me some comments on a couple other posts from late last week (I think) and I had to go back and read my posts because I had no idea what she was talking about!  Yeah, that bad.  Losing your mind really sucks!

Ok, I re-read what I started this post with, and in case any of you are wondering, I’m aiming for the PICC line.  It makes more sense for me, and it’s technically the short-term option, and I’m holding on to the hope that this will be a short-term treatment…hope, hope, hope…  Of course, that may all change when I see the surgeon on Monday for my consultation, or my veins collapse during the procedure, or I throw up all over the nurse during the procedure…  In case any of you are totally twisted interested enough to want to see what is going to happen, search “PICC LINE” on Youtube.  There are oodles of videos of people actually getting it done.  Strangely, I couldn’t watch.  Normally that sort of thing doesn’t bother me, but something about knowing I was actually going to have it done made my stomach turn in a way I’ve never felt before.  Of course, stranger than that is that there are actually VIDEOS ON YOUTUBE OF THE PROCEDURE!  Freaky! 

Oh, one other symptom I don’t think I’ve mentioned before: Floaters.  In my eyes.  I’ve always had them, but now, they’ve gone all bunny-like on me and there’s like a million little floater babies and aunties and uncles and grandparents.  It’s a freakin floater family reunion in there!  Makes staring at a radar screen and discerning between an airplane return and something in my eye a little difficult.  Plus my vision has been cycling in and out of fuzzy for weeks, so, yeah…

And because I can’t remember if I’ve ever posted all my symptoms for all you lovelies who care (or don’t, but you’re still reading, so yeah), here is a rough list:

• stiffness and cracking in my neck and shoulders
• joint pain, started with the knee, now in every joint
• (see above) arthritis-like stiffness and pain in my fingers and toes (typing sucks. writing is worse)
• headaches
• insomnia
• floaters (in the eyes)
• fuzzy vision
• acid reflux
• migraines (not to be confused with headaches, two TOTALLY different animals here)
• short term memory loss
• long term memory “issues”
• “brain fog” ie. forgetting why I went to the fridge by the time I get there, forgetting names, can’t find words, using wrong words, spelling simple words wrong, lost thoughts, inability to concentrate, inability to take in information, etc, etc, etc
• “urinary issues” ie, I need to pee constantly, or can’t pee
• mood swings
• depression (esp. post-partum)
• anxiety
• body pain that feels like it’s in the bone (not an official symptom name, but I can’t remember what it actually is)
• heart palpitations
• indigestion
• “bowel issues” (yeah, not going there)
• nausea
• vomiting
• fatigue
• muscle weakness
• muscle spasms
• muscle pain
• can’t hear (or maybe I just can’t decipher, but either way, most of the time I have  no idea what’s going on)
• constant ringing in my ears

I’m sure there are more, but have I mentioned?  I can’t remember shit!  Seriously.  I had to go back to see if I had written insomnia 5 symptoms after I wrote insomnia!  Blah!

Update: There are things I left of the list that are just a little to personal to post.  And there was something I wanted to add, but went to the bathroom after publishing, and subsequently forgot by the time I got back to my computer.   Also, I forgot to title this post.  This. totally. sucks!

So it’s been two whole months since that mystery pain crept in and turned my world on end, later becoming a diagnosis of Lyme disease, continuing into a whole habit-changing, pill-popping, symptom-tracking, I-hate-my-body-ing thing.  At this point, I’m so over the multiple daily inquiries on “how I’m feeling today” by all those around me, mostly because they don’t actually give a shitand are only asking out of some morbid fascination with other people’s pain combined with a lame attempt at being sympathetic, or interested in my life, or whatever.  Basically I’ve been putting on a happy face for everyone just so they will leave me the hell alone, and also stop looking at me like “ooh, there goes the sick girl.  She’s sick.  It’s a whole sicky thing over there.  It must suck to be sick.”  BLAH-BLAH-freaking-BLAH!

But really, how am I feeling?  Well…

The pain is lingering, but not constant.  I’m to the point where I can feel it creeping in and pop a pill before it becomes wince-worthy.  I’m not sleeping, like, AT ALL, so yeah, that sucks, but it’s not the first time in my life I’ve had an all out war with insomnia.  For some reason I wake up every morning dying of thirst.  Like seriously, DYING!  So thirsty that my morning coffee that I love OH SO MUCH just won’t go down because all I want is 15 gallons of water.  And as if that isn’t enough, my coffee affair is further sabotaged by nearly constant nausea.  It is so difficult to enjoy a nice hot cup of coffee with creamer when you feel like you are going to throw up any second.  And even harder when you actually do!  Work sucks all the way around for the lack of sleep, the annoyance of waking up at 5am (on no sleep), the uncomfortable semi-professional attire (when I would love nothing more than to slip into some nice comfy sweats and go back to sleep), the lack of coffee to counteract the lack of sleep and the getting up at 5am, and, yeah, the urge to suddenly up and chuck doesn’t mesh well with my  job description which calls for constant attention to my position for at least an hour at a time.  There are hot and cold flashes, headaches, both tension and sinus, did I mention the undying thirst? And of course the accompanying need to pee every. twenty. seconds.  And there are all the other little things: the brain fog, the sore back and joints, the “sensitive” stomach, the stiff neck, the lack of any kind of energy whatsoever, the occasional light depression…the list just goes on! 

But I’m keeping a happy face…trying…

With the weather turning I am now faced with the decision on whether or not to get not one, but two flu shots (you k now that H1N1 thing).  I haven’t had one in years.  Not since I separated from the military and thusly separated from the MANDITORY stamp put on every vaccine that came out.  (Anthrax, yellow fever, flu shots.  check, check, check.)  But now, I just don’t know.  Do I chance getting sick in my weakened immune state?  Or do I get the shot and chance getting something from the “weakened” virus in my weakened immune state?  And what about the kids?  Neither of them have gotten in for testing yet (for Lyme) which even if they did there is the great possibility it will come back negative even if they have it (yet another joy of being a Lymie).  My docs office is so backed up that I can’t get them in until next month and the girl’s father is just being, well, difficult about the whole thing.  What to do, what to do?  Taking sick leave for the flu, whether for myself or for the kids, just isn’t an option right now.  And I don’t think I have the physical strength to deal with getting the flu on top of everything else I’m feeling right now.  Arrgghh! 

And next Monday: the neurologist.  Do I have holes in my brain?  Do I have MS?  Am I going to go blind?  Have the little buggers that are causing the Lyme gotten in there?  Am I going to lose my mind (or have I already?)?  Or is everything perfectly normal?  (That last one was for Mr. W.  Love you, baby!) 

And now I think it may be time to vomit, get a gallon or so of water, take a couple dozen pills, and put on a happy face to resume work.  Cheers! 

You lay there quietly after a pseudo-fight.  You know, one of those fights without words, without action, with only the knowledge that you are fighting about something.  You lay there quietly, listening to each other breathe, waiting for the other to show signs of sleeping to give you one more thing to be mad about.  You lay there counting you heartbeats, watching the shadows of the fan on the ceiling, feeling the breeze of the a/c on your face.  With every beat of your heart, every inch of your body wants to curl up against him, feel his skin on yours, feel the warmth coming off him, let it engulf you and lull you off into a peaceful sleep.  But then there is the mind, ah, that powerful mind.  Your mind won’t allow it.  Your mind screams “NO” at the top of its lungs.  Your mind makes your heart race once more as it reminds you of the anger you are supposed to feel.  Your mind convinces you it’s all his fault.  Your aching back: obviously because he is making the mattress bend funny.  Your sore neck: obviously because he smooshed your pillow flat.  Your insomnia: obviously because he started all this…

The mind is a powerful thing.  And the conscious mind likes its power.  Loves it.  Craves it.  Won’t let go of it.  The unconscious mind is peaceful and giving.  It allows for forgiveness.  It gives way to the needs of the heart and body., and the conscious mind can’t have that!  You find a semi, albeit lonely spot in the bed and begin to dose.  Oh, no!  The mind spurs you with an additional thought of betrayal to get your heart racing again.  You close your eyes to search for a moment of peace, but the mind is working.  Meanwhile you are gritting your teeth…and…ah, there it is.  A headache.  A tension headache.  An impossible-to-sleep-with tension headache.  You rub your temples, adjust your body, and close your eyes to block out the brightness of the numbers on the alarm clock.  And the mind puts images in your head much bolder than those numbers, much more disturbing.  And as the numbers change, from 12 to 1 to 2 am, they become a friendly alternative to what awaits in the darkness of your mind. 

In the morning, after 2 or 3 precious hours of broken sleep, the alarm startles you awake.  Cranky and overtired, you stumble into the shower.  The warm water mildly refreshing to your mind…and oh, yeah…I didn’t sleep because of him…and it starts all over again…

Ok, so we know I have sleeping issues of all sorts, but for the last 3 nights straight I have woken up at 1:44 am.  The last 3 nights straight!  What does that mean?  I know my previous tendency to wake at 3 am had all sorts of possibilities (psychic hour, hour of the devil as in the opposite of when Christ died, liver hour, etc) but 1:44 am?  Really, any ideas?  It’s kind of creepy, actually…

Anyway, so I feel like crap today.  Surprise, surprise!  This cold just won’t leave.  The stuffy head gave way to a constantly runny nose which has now given way to some killer body-aches.  I feel like I’ve been run over with a truck.  The worst part, I don’t k now if it’s a simple cold, or the beginning of flu season, or the Lyme disease, (or some strange reaction to waking up at 1:44 am), or something else entirely.  On top of that, I think I may be getting a sinus infection and a bladder infection.  HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?  I’ve been on antibiotics for over a month.  What do they give you for sinus, bladder, or any other type of infection?  Antibiotics.  How can I get something that is “curable” by antibiotics when I’m on a constant stream of antibiotics?  And, more to the point, how the hell would I go about getting rid of said infections?  More antibiotics?  So, for anyone keeping count, technology* hates me AND my body hates me. 

And Christmas is coming.  I loveChristmas.  I get totally geeky about Christmas.  Once I had a house in which to “do” Christmas in for the first time, I made a rule that all that entered must be happy, otherwise they would be forced to eat Christmas dinner outside.  Yep, that’s just how I roll with Christmas.  What I don’t love is the gifting thing.  Well, it’s more of a love/hate relationship.  I love giving gifts, but I hate the stress of trying to figure out what to get.  I have another thing.  Yeah, I know, me and my “things.”  But I can’t get people Christmas presents that are on a list shorter than, oh, say 20 items.  I just can’t.  It ruins the whole surprise thing that is way to priceless.  Also, I can’t get anyone a gift that is “useful.”  It kills me every year to ask my mom what she wants and inevitably she comes back with one item and it’s a lunch box.  Or slippers.  Or a red T-shirt.  Yes, one year she wanted nothing more than a red T-shirt.  WHAT IS THAT?  How am I supposed to show my love and appreciation for the woman that brought me into this world with a RED T-SHIRT?  Not possible.  Of course, one year I went out on a limb and bought her a black leather Coach purse (since she had been admiring a similar one I bought in the summer) and she refuses to use it!  She says it’s too nice and I spent too much and she’s afraid of getting it dirty.  So it sits all lonely in the bag in her closet.  That’s just purse abuse!  She’s lucky she’s my mom, or else I’d have to report her to the authorities! 

Well, with Christmas coming, I’ve made an early list of those Mr. W and I will be gifting this year, kids at the top…………and I’ve got nothing.  I have no clue what to get anyone!  A four year old girl, a six year old boy, a 14 year old girl and a 16 year old boy shouldn’t be this hard to shop for.  And to make things extra challenging, the girl’s (4th) b-day just past, so she’s Barbied out for the year, the step-boy has a (16th) b-day next month, the boy’s (6th) b-day is 2 days before Christmas (yeah, he’s that kid…poor kid…), and the step-girl’s (15th) b-day is in February.  Oh yeah, and Mr. W.  Let’s not forget him.  1) I have even less of a clue what to get him for Christmas, and 2) his b-day is a week before Christmas.  You know, at least I had the decency and good sense to be born in July!  I can’t wait for Christmas morning, after I’ve figured out what to get everyone and can just sit back and enjoy their shining faces along with the knowledge that I have a whole ‘nother year (9ish months) before the drama begins again. 

*The day after I posted this, my brand-spanking-new, iPod compatible, fancy-shmancy, waited-hemmed-and-hawed-about-the-price-for-3-months-and-finally-broke-down-and-got-one alarm clock stopped working.  Just stopped.  Like it worked in the morning to wake me up, and by the evening when I went to reset it, it was dead.  No lights,  no sound.  DEAD.

I’ve been meaning to post about my acupuncture experiences since I started them and a recent health study/questionnaire from the VA actually asked about any “alternative health treatments” I’ve sought/received so I figure now is as good a time as any.  The questions have helped me intelligently categorize my treatments with my reasons for seeking treatments, so all the better since my mind is so very unfathomably complex and brilliant (read: totally scattered and muddled) that me just winging it wouldjust cause more confusion, probable headaches, possible seizures…or at the very least banging of your head against the wall to uncross your eyes…

I’ve heard fantastic success stories about all three treatments, but these are just my experiences:

Massage:

First “alternative health treatment” I ever tried was massage.  I’m sure there are millions of people out there who get, or have gotten massages before.  No biggie.  I still haven’t quite deciphered all the different massages: hot stone, deep tissue, reflexology, Swedish, aromatherapy, sports…the list goes on.  I always thought you just go in and someone rubs on your sore spots for a while and then you feel better.  And then I opted for my first deep tissue massage.  OH THE PAIN!  Yeah, came out feeling SO much worse than when I went in.  And during, I was gritting my teeth so hard for the hour so as not to scream that I gave myself a wicked headache.  But I figured that is just how it’s supposed to be.  Yeah, it hurts but it’s all for the best right?

And then I made friend with a wonderful massage therapist (Y) who pointed out the sore error in my thinking.  It doesn’t have to hurt.  As a matter of fact it’s not supposed to hurt if done right.  And she emphasised this point by giving me several deep tissue massages that – are you ready? – didn’t hurt one bit!  And I felt better immediately.  She even took care of the soreness from lifting weights that I had when I was working out.  In my mind, it was as though she placed her hands on the spot that hurt (usually in my upper chest and armpit area – from benching) and then remove her hands and the pain was gone.  Simply fabulous, she is!  She works with the body to eradicate pain, stiffness and soreness.  She is the first (of many) therapists who has actually taken the time to take a physical overview of me prior to the massage (rather than simply asking where it hurts, or what I want her to concentrate on).  She asks about past injury, tender areas, soreness, stiffness, sleeping habits, the whole deal.  THAT is how a massage therapist should work.  It’s a pleasure to see her, every time I see her.  Totally non-invasive with immediate results.  Fantastic!

What massage has done for me (on a much higher and consistent level when I started seeing Y):

• general muscle soreness – alleviated
• mild joint pain – alleviated
• tension headaches – soothed
• sore back/neck/shoulders – well, of course
• insomnia – I was able to fall asleep and stay asleep!
• post-workout sore muscles – completely gone
• general relaxation – well, you knew that part

Reiki:

At Y’s suggestion, I began seeing my “Reiki lady” when things were rough in my life.  I had just started dating Mr. W seriously, but as you may recall we had quite a few ups and downs before we leveled off to the “wonderful” we are now.  I was also still hot and heavy on the battle front with the exmen, so stress was high, and my spirits were low.  You can read about my experiences with her here, and here.  Y also began training in Reiki, and would practice on me from time to time back then, and I’ve gone to see her for treatments a couple times since.  She even gave me a quick, on the spot treatment at work on a particularly bad day.  It was amazing. 

I wasn’t feeling spectacular physically at the time, and emotionally, I was a wreck.  Mr. W had just returned from Iraq, and we weren’t doing well.  I’m sure there were other stresses involved as well.  I just felt heavy.  I felt like there was this thick shadow weighing on me constantly.  I felt as though my head and shoulders were dropped to my knees and that the crying was going to begin any second.  Y ordered me to sit down at her desk (she works in my office) and relax as she placed her hands on my shoulders.  Five minutes later, seriously five minutes later, she removed her hands and it felt in that moment like she had brushed away that shadow and heaviness in that one movement.  The world was literally brighter in my eyes.  My head was higher, and the feeling of tears was completely gone.  Amazing.  It was literally that quick. 

Normally Reiki sessions are 30 or 60  minutes, possibly longer.  For those that don’t know, it is “energy healing.”  The therapist opens him or herself to not only your energy, but also the energy that exists all around us and uses herself as a channel to bring in good energy, healing energy.  Unlike a normal massage, this is done fully clothed, and the therapist may simply place their hands on certain parts of your body, or may not touch you at all.  They seem to focus a lot on the areas of the 7 chakras (tail-bone, lower belly, solar-plexus, mid-chest, throat, forehead, and top of the head) but other areas as well. 

For me, its a lot in the feet, legs, and shoulders.  Some therapists who have been doing it a long time, or are just a little more in-tuned to the world may be able to read other parts of you, or give guidance passed from spirit guides, animal guides, angels, or what have you, depending on what you, or she, believes in.  But whatever you believe, you can’t deny the existence of energies all around and even if a person doesn’t believe in the healing possibilities of energy work, it can’t possibly hurt, so what’s the harm in trying? 

I have sought Reiki massages for:

• depression and anxiety – greatly reduced, more with each successive treatment
• focusing – accomplished
• lifting my spirits - accomplished, with amazing results!
• increasing energy – accomplished at the time
• getting to know myself – yep, that too

One side effect I may have mentioned before is the “floaty” feeling that lingers for awhile (up to 2 hours for me).  As Y describes it, the feeling of “not being in your body.”  Not a bad thing, but something to be aware of if you have plans immediately after. 

Acupuncture:

By far the most intimidating thing I’ve tried so far.  I don’t like needles, and as much as I’ve heard that it doesn’t hurt, seriously, someone is going to put needles in my skin?  How could it not hurt?!  But in the desperation of the “mystery pain” that didn’t respond to any pain meds that would leave me conscious, I succumbed to the hope of feeling even slightly better.  Luckily, tow of my co-workers, Y and the fabulous D, both use acupuncture for pain management, as well as for other things, both see the same practitioner, D on a regular, bi-monthly basis.  So I picked their brains and made an appointment.

My first appointment with SAM (Super-acupuncture-mama) was 2 hours long.  (All subsequent ones have been an hour)  Our first hour together was an introduction period wherein we went over my entire medical history, including the physical, mental, emotional aspects, bowel movements, bladder function, sleep patterns and disturbances, emotional history including divorces, sexual relationships, etc, etc, etc.  She had 3 full, handwritten pages of info on me by the time the hour was up.  Everything.  Yes, I will admit that some of the questions she asked were a little more in depth than I was initially prepared to divulge despite, or maybe due to her very grandmotherly aire… –but I sucked it up and answered truthfully, and I’m glad I did.  She immediately recognized patterns in areas of my life, tied to different channels and meridians in my body.  Even the time of night I woke up fit.  My first visit was prior to my Lyme diagnosis, and after our introduction, the first thing she asked was if I had been tested for Lyme or not.  Hmmm…

The second hour began with her going over the equipment (the needles, metal, solid, thin as a hair, smooth – virtually impossible to catch any fluid even if attempted) and the acupunturing itself.  She then had me disrobe down to my undies and had me lay face down on the table (a normal massage table, you know the one with the hole for your face).  She started with my back and shoulders…about 30 there…and moved on to  my arms, hands, top of my head, legs, upper butt (sciatic nerve) and heels.  I probably had clover 50 needles in me total, and although I was a little anxious about whether or not I could move at all lest I dislodge one, or worse, stab myself (incorrectly), I didn’t feel a thing once they were all in.  Seriously.  I wouldn’t lie.  If there were 50 total, about 5 of them stung a little when inserted (like a mild mosquito bite), I felt a slight pressure of her inserting about 10 of them (zero pain), and the rest I didn’t feel anything at all.  Nothing.  Really, I felt nothing.  And as I said before, once they were all in, I couldn’t even concentrate on a spot that I knew there was a needle and feel it.  NOTHING!  All fears dispelled.

As far as after effects, SAM explained that I may not feel anything for a couple days.  There is a possibility of slight (small, 1/4 inch diameter) bruising, but that occurs more with older folks.  Other than that, I was a little foggy from the short nap I got in during the treatment period.  But two days later, no pain.  For four days straight.  Now, I had been in constant pain (averaging between 5 and 8 on the pain scale) for about 3 weeks with no relief, ever.  And those four days were glorious.  But the pain came back.  I’ve been seeing SAM weekly now for a month and I am virtually pain free.  There are flickers here and there, a little soreness or stiffness at times, but nothing even remotely close to what I was feeling before.

Other things she is working on for me:

• emotional well-being (anger and occasional weepiness) – greatly reduced
• waking up at 3am – done
• waking up at 1am – done
• other general insomnia – greatly reduced
• headaches – haven’t had one in weeks
• allergies – reduced slightly
• joint pain, stiffness – greatly reduced

And yesterday I mentioned my cold, and tendency for getting 2-week long colds every month during the winter and she not only promised a combination of acupuncture and Chinese herbs would make this my best-feeling winter ever, but she also got rid of the head stuffiness, reduced the watery, stinging eyes and runny nose, and eradicated the waves of nausea I was having earlier in the day.  Yea!

Note: I know it is very important to drink plenty of water after a massage or Reiki treatment (I do after acupuncture as well, just in case) due to the release of toxins into your body.  Massage releases all those acids that cause most of the muscle pain, especially post workout and you really don’t want that stuff just sitting in your body.  The water helps to flush it out before it can sit in your kidneys or elsewhere.  It probably isn’t a bad idea to drink water before as well, unless you are like me and will need to pee shortly there after.  It’s hard to get in that relaxing place while doing the pee-pee dance after all.

The hours between 1am and 4am are by far the worst hours of the day.  They straight piss me off.  You know when you roll over, all not sleeping and everything, already irritated, and when you look at the clock it’s 130am and you just get pissed, so of course you aren’t going to sleep now because you’re awake and now you’re pissed too.  Yeah, that sucks. 

I get up generally between 5am and 545am (depending on how many times I hit snooze).  I try to get to bed by 10pm, but anytime before midnight is ok.  At least that gives me 5 hours of rest.  Yeah, totally not enough, but ok.  But those nights that insomnia hits and 1am creeps past all stealthy-like, like it’s perfectly acceptable for it to exist in my waking world.  Then 2 then 3.  By the time I get a peek of 330 I’m downright livid.  Anger really doesn’t work so well for inducing sleep. 

I’ve been plagued by insomnia for-like-ever.  I’ve gone through periods of nightly assistance, to include Valerian, Tylenol PM, melatonin, and massive amounts of red wine (a sure fire way to end a date without giving it up…if you know what I mean!).  The problem is, now that my insomnia isn’t steady, I can’t stage a pre-emptive attack and take the measures necessary.  NO.  I don’t realize it’s going to be one of those nights until it’s far to late to take some sleep aid (or hit the liquor store for a bottle).  The worst part is when there are several sleepless nights strung together.  I figure the extreme tiredness I feel all day from not sleeping the night before pretty much guarantees an easy if not good night’s sleep so I don’t take anything to assist.  But oh, no.  My mind/body/whole existence rebels against me, and all logic, and I’m awake another night.  WTF, right?  Even worse than that is when I do take a melatonin or something, and I still don’t manage to catch those elusive zzzs.  2am doesn’t want to mess with me on those nights.  I’d dream of murder for all the anger in my heart…except that I’m not sleeping!!  After the third (or fourth or fifth) night, I’m so freaking tired that my mind quite literally goes to into a coma without so much as a note to my body.  Talk about zombie-fied!  There I am walking around, completely mindless and useless, looking totally normal on the outside, probably pissing off all those around my with my random grunts and lack of productivity, until my body finally gets a clue and collapses in a shapeless lump wherever I happen to be at that moment.  Yeah, that’s always fun! 

*Hint to Mr. W:  If you read this, do me a favor and drug me up with something tonight.  A lot of something…your choice.  Just please, for the love of LOST, Star Wars, geeky-computer stuff, WHATEVER, help me sleep!!  

And the count-down begins: 35 days until I get to see the boy again.  I drove him up to meet his dad yesterday (yuck), and he won’t be back until our two-week vacation in July.  The girl will be continuing her normal schedule, but the summer will have a lot of kid-less time that I’m really not happy about.  As frustrating as they can be, it is so much worse when they simply aren’t around.  After the two weeks home, the boy will be back at his dad’s for another three weeks before school starts.  *sigh*

But, that gives me roughly 56 days to get my poop together and make some healthy changes in my/our life:

Step 1)  Physical health. 

We began today.  Mr. W and I woke at the crack of freaking dawn (415am) and got our lazy, unfit butts to the gym.  I’ve bubbled out here and there (here being my tummy and there being my butt and thighs) to the tune of adding a size and a half.  Mr. W has been complaining that he’s gained too, although I don’t see it, so I figured it’s a good start.  Our schedule consists of 3 days of weight training, and 2 days of cardio (running, blah!) to get us started. 

We intended to quit smoking along with the gym routine, but, yeah, that didn’t work out so well.  Smoking is a hard thing to put down.  My personal goal is to be quit by the time the boy comes home.  Hmmm…we shall see… The hardest part is that Mr. W smokes and isn’t ready to quit.  Even when we try together, we usually talk each other into cheating.  Well, at least we are united! 

Sleeping kind of goes along with the gym.  We both suffer from insomnia, and we both are constantly tired.  Not good.  So I set my alarm on my phone to go off at 9pm, and our agreement is at that point we wrap up whatever we are doing and head upstairs.  Our biggest challenge will be watching only one (or none, if we don’t have the time) episode of LOST a night.  We are into season 4 now, the season I haven’t seen.  And those of you who watch know that cliffhanger, accompanied by the “dun” and the “LOST” at the end of each episode is like cutting a crack addict off mid-puff! 

And the diet.  Well, not really a diet in the sense of the evil version.  More like a diet-adjustment.  Cutting back to cutting out fast food for one.  (By fast food I mean the Don, the King, the Colonel, and that red-headed chick.  We don’t really ring the Bell much, for, *ahem* other reasons!)  My vegetable garden has committed suicide by drowning…who knew you had to incorporate drainage?  Probably the same person who knew we were going to get days on end of torrential downpours in the middle of June!  So I will be hitting up our local produce stands, planning our meals a week prior, and avoiding the snack eisles in the grocery store…well, mostly…  Mr. W started us off right last night with the fabulous yumminess of eggplant parmesan.  Mmm, mmm, good!  Seriously!

Step 2)  Mental health.

No, not that kind of mental health.  I’m talking about peace of mind.  The house is cluttered and difficult to keep straight.  So we will be doing something about that.  The biggest areas to purge are the toys and the clothes, both very difficult for me.  My kids actually play with all their toys.  They cycle through them regularly, and have gotten very good about putting them away.  That said, they have a lot of freaking toys!  The clothes are hard too, especially with me in this weird body place that is bigger than the majority of my clothes, but is planning on being back there soon with the whole gym thing…plus, I really really like clothes!

After the toys and clothes, we will  move on to general organizing and purging as we go along.  The bookshelves, the utility/laundry room, our desk spaces, the kids closets (currently used for very disorganized storage of God knows what), and our bedroom.  I truly believe a cluttered house leads to a cluttered mind, and we all know I don’t need any more of that!

Then it’s some us time.  He doesn’t know it yet, but I plan to implement some sort of regular couple activity, even if it’s in the form of a “date night,” as cliche as that is.  We deserve it.  We need it.  Nuff said.    

Step 3)  Financial health.

We are planning a wedding, looking for a house, saving for braces, college, emergencies, paying off our February vacation (on credit card)…and yet we can’t go a week without a visit to Target, WalMart, BestBuy, GameStop, Old Navy, and/or PetCo.  (Sometimes all of the above!)  I don’t know how yet, but we are going to be diving into our financial matters over the summer and figure out how exactly we are going to accomplish our goals, together, with the least amount of pain.

I figure planning and organization are key in all of this…but as I suck at both, I could use some tips or pointers on how to make it work and especially how to stick with it.  I’m sure I’m not the only one trying to make healthier choices in my life, so if anyone out there is in the midst and has figured out something that works for them, let me know.  I will post the best/most helpful ideas in an update post in 2 weeks. 

Stress is like an unexpected wave at the beach.  You know, you’re splashing along, enjoying the cool water and the bright, warm sun above, when an unexpected wave hits you just right.  A small one simply splashes you square in the face with some of that oh-so-salty water that may or may not end up in your nose, leaving your heart racing just a bit.  The bigger ones may go over your head, leaving you startled and spitting more of that salt water after the quick dunk.  And then there are the really big ones which push you down, swirling, leaving you disoriented and gasping for air, desperate to reach the top if only you could figure out which way is up.  And the tidal waves, well their path of destruction can wipe out everything that is familiar and safe with little effort, leaving behind an array of disaster to deal with (and more waves). 

I’ve been through many levels of stress, the small waves, when I was smacked in the face and startled, leaving my heart racing and my breath short.  I’ve been through bigger ones which left me with so much salt water in my throat that I’ve been sick for weeks on end.  And even the really huge stresses that seem to go on and on, leaving me searching for the light, for the sun, desperately gasping for air, and finally leaving me worn out and roughed up from the beating it dished out.  Thankfully, I haven’t had to deal with any full on tidal waves as of yet, but with the unpredictability of life (and the ocean), who knows…

Some people seem to deal with stress better.  The better swimmers, I suppose.  They seem to be able to dive under those waves, holding their breath in one smooth movement, and emerge on the other side a little wet, but otherwise unscathed.  I, on the other hand, have never mastered holding my breath, and must go through the motions of taking a deep breath and physically holding my nose before going under, something that those surprise (waves) stresses don’t allow for.  I always end up breathing/swallowing the water, leaving me with a sore throat, and I always end up with some form of sick when I’m under stress.   

Mr. W is like me.  A better swimmer, but apparently not a strong one as he generally ends up worn out and cranky in the wake of stress.  Unfortunately, his physical ailment takes the form of insomnia.  Of course, when you are worn out from swimming, or stressing, or whatever, sleep is what your body craves the most…and so begins the vicious cycle that plagues him (and by him, I now mean us).  I have had my own battle with insomnia going on for years.  I know his pain.  I have had nights when I quite literally got no sleep at all.  I have had days that I called in sick to work out of fear that the sleep would finally hit me during my commute.  I’ve had weeks where I felt like a zombie on a constant caffeine drop-off, as I wandered through my day, drinking as much coffee as my stomach would allow…and then one more for good measure.  So yes, I know his pain.  But I don’t suffer with him.  If he is next to me, I can sleep for days, no matter what is going on with my life.  Next to him is my safe haven, my peace, my bubble of tranquility.  Ok, maybe not that last one, as my stress is still on my mind, but I am able to put it away long enough to fall and stay asleep.  I don’t have that same healing effect on him, however.  If a wave of stress takes him, a wave of insomnia takes him and nothing can help him then, not even me. 

I woke up last night and he wasn’t there.  Yes, we are stressing.  About our own individual stuff.  About our joint stuff.  About our future and futures.  About lots.  I am sick, again.  I think it’s a nasal infection, but who knows.  I’ll fight through it as usual.  And he couldn’t sleep.  While the insomnia doesn’t take me when he’s there, it’s almost guaranteed it will when he’s not.  It’s infectious.  So I went to find him, out back, smoking…that’s normal.  I asked what was wrong.  Nothing.  That’s normal too.  I waited for him to get done, and pulled him back to bed with me.  He rolled away (normal) and I fell into a deep sleep.  This morning he couldn’t get up, not for the gym, not for the cup of coffee I left on his nightstand, not for a kiss goodbye, and not for the later alarm I set for him.  He’s not talking to me (normal) and I’m stressing about that now (normal, normal, normal). 

And the waves keep rolling in.