Arranging Shoes

It's time

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 11:39:00 +0000

Things have felt raw and intense. Not a lot of post-surgery healing time before commencing with the move.

Why won't my human just leave things be? Change -- bad, bad.

My last week was filled with a surgery follow-up, a visit to my old employer for the Christmas party, packing of course, and lots of people who just needed to get an extra good bye in. I was pretty numb to it all and just in "what needs to be done next?" mode and couldn't really appreciate or feel it.

Only the beginning

Friends, neighbors, and Dad helped with the process. It was somewhat overwhelming. Dad whipped things into boxes quickly although I gave him a bad time about packing the printer and salt six days before the move!

I don't approve of what's going on. So, I'll
just sit under this planter stand and
pretend it's not happening.

Jake wasn't too keen on the chaos and did express his displeasure in an empty box. So, the rule was to keep all boxes closed or face down until being packed.

Hey, he cooks as well as packs!

Jake and I left a day early to fly out. And, yes, I hope that's the last time I navigate the airports with a wheelchair and a cat in a bag. Dad stayed to meet the movers and close down the place with my realtor. It was hard letting go of control and not being there for the last.

Not how I imagined leaving.

The real estate deal is starting over again and basically marinating. In my opinion, this could have been prevented if the negotiator my realtor hired had done some due diligence on my particular loan which wasn't eligible for the the government program he suggested I go through. The one I kept questioning the appropriateness for my situation. So, here we are starting again but not at the complete beginning. The buyers are hanging in there with extension after extension but I'm preparing mentally for pretty much anything. Am feeling really burnt by trying to do the right thing. The experience I've had with Bank of America and their short sale vendor, Loan Resolution Corporation, has been brutally horrid. B of A letters arrive with deadlines long past. LRC, who is a debt collector, treats you like shit even it you are current on your mortgage. I wish I'd been able to record a conversation with my last contact there -- unbelievable -- "...lady I don't care if your sale goes through or not, I'm just telling you that we're going to deny your sale because it's too old" -- well, it's too old because we've been waiting for you!

I feel like a schmuck. The folks who quit paying and live in their place have it figured out. As I was exhausted and scrubbing my toilets and trying to clean up the place before leaving, I was having a conversation in my head about how I've got to shake this "do the right thing" mentality that I'm steeped in -- it doesn't seem to pay. I'm starting to believe it's a sign of foolishness and lacking in maturity rather than exemplifying it. Several friends, with concern for my health, have challenged me on attempting a short sale vs foreclosing on my upside down condo. I think they may have been right. Time will tell. My neighbors that I've spoken to have been rather discouraged by my experience as they are upside down as well due to the market, condo glut in our town, and that we all bought around the same time when the condos were converted in 2006.

No private deck for Jake but a new view.

We're at Mom and Dad's now for a while. Planning on doing some painting (well, Dad, sis and bro-in-law) at the new place and my furniture is likely arriving in early January. Although it will be a while before routine and rest become a part of life again, it's sunny here and the new life is commencing.

De-Metaled Noggin and Real Estate Dunderheads

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Sun, 20 Nov 2011 21:35:00 +0000

The critter with the two screws
that were the worst culprits.

Am on my way to getting better from surgery - have been kerwhompered of late. Hence the quietness. Although I've had some mild migraines, it's too soon to tell for sure about the surgery impact. But I optimistically believe, and see some signs, that getting this metal out of my noggin will be a great improvement. Just had the staples removed the other day so I'm completely metal free in the head!

Everyone was great the day of the surgery. I had a local - propofol - versed combo instead of general anesthesia so I was pretty close to the surface during the procedure. Although I only remember the beginning, the anesthesiologist said I uttered "ouch" when the neurosurgeon was scraping rather vigorously at one point. Am pretty sure I said something much richer than that.

Unfortunately, I came to awareness as the surgeon was stapling my incision closed. Didn't hurt and I wasn't particularly disturbed aside from thinking, veeerry slowly, "Damn [kachunk] staples again? [kachunk] Staples, staples... [kachunk] Grr, why [kachunk] didn't I beg [kachunk] for sutures?" [kachunk].

I had asked for the removed metal if possible. Didn't know if that would happen. Was quite surprised when I was close to being released and saw the OR nurse coming down the hall with a container. She wasn't able to de-foo the screws but had the other pieces that she'd clean and sanitized. I appreciated her efforts and feel like I should do some sort of multi-media art with the metal.

Both the titanium goods

My sister was here for a while. Was nice being cooked for and having someone do the laundry. She stayed for a few days post surgery. However, now I've been washing clothes, towels, linens and duvet covers like a maniac. That's taken a bit of a toll. Anyway, I didn't have a cat last time I had an open wound on my head so I have to be quite careful (yes, it heals completely uncovered in one's hair - crazy, huh?).

So, daily changing of pillow covers, every other day changing of linens, one time use of towels and keeping the cat off the bed was recommended. Ha! I noted that would be hard, so they said just keep him waist down. I repeat, Ha! Poor germy fur bag. As a rescue cat, I've been trying to get him to open up and now he doesn't understand when I gently push him away when he approaches my chest and head. Such is life.

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

Flowers from Neighbors

How's the real estate deal going? I wrote a long rant. Will let it simmer and likely post it in a few days depending on how much I want to say about my very nice but somewhat hand-wringing powerless realtor, the non-communicating negotiator she sub-contracted to do a portion of her duties, and the Bank of America / Loan Resolution Corporation (LRC) dunderheads. LRC is the debt collector vendor (even though I'm current on my mortgage payments) to whom B of A has sub-contracted my short sale and they know how to act as such. Oh, and a private mortgage insurance company has weaseled into the picture of my counter-offer wanting five digits of dollars even though my mortgage wasn't subject to PMI.

Let's just say, right now, there appears to be little reward for trying to do the right thing. I still have hope.

Mom and Dad are now going through rentals in Colorado. When we find the right one (cats ok, no stairs, lawn maintenance provided - preferred, location, etc), we're grabbing it and I'm moving.

Trips, Crud, Surgery and Real Estate

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 06:01:00 +0000

Been a while, eh? Lots of life has been happening since my last post -- way more than my usual sedate existence. While much has been good, I was sick for a while and just plain overwhelmed by the multiple balls up in the air. I highly recommend though, if your life is as isolated as mine has been, just tell folks that you're moving from the area not to return. But be ready, they may just come out of the woodwork as they have in my case!

Mom and Dad came for a visit. First, we went to Paradise area at Mt. Rainier National Park. Since Dad worked a season there as a ranger and Mom with the historical association, there were lots of memories for them as well as me. I'd done crevasse rescue training there, rambled around the mountain and summited once with a group of women.

Nisqually Glacier, Paradise Lodge, Reflection Lake, Lupine, Lampshades in Lodge, Tatoosh Range from Lodge Porch
-- Paradise, Mt. Rainier, WA --

We lucked out -- it was mostly good weather when we were there and pouring down rain the day we left. I made it the third mile up to Myrtle Falls, and a little beyond, at a snails pace. My sherpa (Dad) carried a camp chair for me to soak in the views once there. In any case, I lounged and recovered in my room for the afternoon with views of the Tatoosh Range which includes a peak I'd scrambled in winter -- more memories.

After a couple days there, we left to Astoria, Oregon. A place where Mom grew up and is rich with family history for several generations. I was discouraged by how difficult both the car trip to Rainier and then to Astoria had been. The sensory stimulation of it all seems to brings on the migraines and is just a bit much. Hadn't been on a longish road trip for, umm, a very long time. So, who knew? Although it makes sense as it's becoming harder to be in noisy or visually stimulating public places. Maybe I should just rig something up in the trunk!

Thought you'd rather see my
toes than the eagle

Soon after that trip a mountaineering pal invited some of us who used to bang around together in the mountains to convene at a family cabin on a nearby island. Was great company, food, and views. Saw an eagle and took the steep trail down to the beach a few times. The last time was probably too much. I think my pal, and I, were wondering how I was going to haul my keister back up. It wasn't pretty.

A unique pleasure was having my naps serenaded by my friend playing the grand piano in the loft. With ear plugs and door to my room shut, it was just right for drifting off.

As much as I tried to do half day adventures for both these outings and rest a fair amount, all this activity was quite a big deal for hermit gal. I did end up getting sick and rather down about how that hung on. Somehow it seemed to push me over the edge into quite the despairing mess. So, I spared you all any postings in that time period!

Next on the agenda was visit to my neurosurgeon. I knew if I wanted something done about the hardware that appears to play a part in my scalp pains and headaches, the time was now. Not when new docs in Colorado are just getting their heads' wrapped around my thick file.

So, I'll be having some of the metal from my head removed in a little over a week. This has been hanging over my head and really heavy on me for some time. It's bittersweet that it will be happening but, ahem... Technically it should be straight-forward according to my neurosurgeon. No problem (read that with tongue in cheek).

Now about the roof over my head. Well, we have verbal approval from the lender on the deal. The paperwork has yet to be produced. However, considering that I'm throwing a surgery kink into the deal and have patient investor buyers, delays are not necessarily a bad thing.

I've had to really let go of the domino scenarios involved in this. I've done what I know to do... talked to my realtor about possibilities if need be for recovery time... interviewed movers... have figured out which flights to put my parents on... arranged for boxes... have filled out applications from property management firms... have contacted rental agents in Colorado and started conversations about specific properties... have had my parents go through specific properties... have talked to the property attorney to ensure a heads-up and turn around there on looking the paperwork over... It definitely can be the stuff of crazy-making and overwhelm. I often wish I wasn't the solo "project manager" and decision maker.

So, I had some fun but am now in the heads-down homestretch of all this craziness. It's going to be ok. Really. Really. Yeah, really it's going to be just fine... really... just drinking the punch here. Want some?

Botox, Farewell Party, and Real Estate Madness

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Sat, 17 Sep 2011 21:18:00 +0000

The Jakester just hangin'

These darn wrinkles on my face were just getting me down... kidding... well, not entirely.

While I'll put on a wee bit of makeup for an occasion, (can't remember when that last was), I'm generally a natural gal. In my granola youth of living in converted barns and Alaskan cabins, running water optional, you could practically braid my leg hair. Ok, ok, all in unison, get it out of your system... eeeuuuww!

Anyway, the point is that I'm having fun telling pals, who are unaware of its medical uses, that I had botox. Kind of messes with their mind and perceived order in the universe.

Finally got botox for the scalp / incision / headache pain the other day. The doc (definitely not Dr. Pain) was quite conservative in the number of shots since it was the first time. He stayed away from my incision / hardware area, so when things get tight I have a halo or donut hole effect with tightness in the middle!

Overall, is an improvement on the daily pain and tightness. While I've had headaches, haven't had a migraine-style gig yet this month and I'm smack in the the danger zone for that. And, my forehead is a bit smoother. As the doc noted, it's nice for a change to have a medical treatment with an upside instead of side effects such as dizziness, drowsiness, constipation, etc!

From a recent Seattle trip --
The bike rack outside my doc's office. Loved the assortment including the orange
one-speed (or is it a 3 speed -- Jan?). Anyway, that owner has CALVES if they
do the Seattle hills on that!

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

My pal Mikel had a going away party for me at his place. I was nervous about my stamina, the multiple levels of his deck, the alignment of the planets and other such things since I was breaking out of the cocoon. It was really nice evening. Saw some folks I hadn't seen in a long time and since it was a relatively small group, it wasn't overwhelming.

Sometimes in the day-to-day isolation of my life, it's easy to think that there's nothing left here in the PNW for me. And, although many of these friendships will come to a close (or have) in their current form, it was nice to re-affirm their existence, at least historically.

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

Another shot from the Seattle trip --
In case the phone cord isn't apparent
enough, the display reads
Out of Service

I'm not inclined to go into the condo sale real estate madness. We're still waiting but getting close... or possibly I'm drinking the punch. We joked at Mikel's that possibly we could have another going away party for me... next year.

My restlessness to move ahead and arrange all that needs to be arranged is immense at times. Yet I remind myself that I'm moving away from my native Pacific Northwest which has a lot of family history -- mostly in Oregon. Moving away from the Seattle region in which I've lived the longest of anywhere in my rolling-stone-gathering-no-moss adult life (~14 years). And, moving away from my condo, the single residence that I've lived the longest at since moving out from the parents (5+ years).

Trying to pay attention to and enjoy the quintessential PNW things while they're around.

I think this is real

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 04:22:00 +0000

Trail in the woods near my place

The days have been simultaneously full and empty.

Full of relentless encounters with the bureaucratic dunderheads (my new favorite word). The most ridiculous recent event was that a woman with the same first and last name as mine, who lives thousands of miles away on the East coast, returned to work on August 1st. I hope she's well as her work release letter was scanned into my file stopping my LTD benefits. From past encounters with this company I knew to keep it all in writing and copy the HR folks so the resolution wouldn't take two months this time.

Then there's been the many months long wheelchair saga in which every new person had added a new requirement. I did color outside the lines by not going with the approved vendor and their one choice chair. But I thought I'd done my due diligence with multiple phone calls prior to any transaction. In any case, the re-submissions created duplicate claims and twice as much fun. It's finally been resolved -- yay!

Misty big tree woods on berry picking trip

The government agency associated with my real estate sale has been helpful. Yes, you read that right. And, my lender, the Big Bank that Warren likes, sends me packages of duplicate forms a month late with ominous warnings and deadlines of the next day. And, I'm the one with brain damage. And, now there's this jury duty thing...

I must admit that I dread going to the mail box. I get kind of queasy. As I try to do a few short strolls a day, I do my walk first so I'm somewhat wonked. You know, light in the legs and the head. That way I'll have less oomph to get upset at my latest mailbox discovery.

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

So, what is this emptiness of which I speak? Seems as though I've been in a holding pattern for so long now. There are so many things to arrange for the move, and you know how I like to prepare and plan. I've done my homework. Interviewed movers and have chosen two in case one is booked. I know which flight I putting the parents on (they'll drive my car back). And, so on.

Spring trees in woods
near my place

Yet time frames are still unknown and the illusive perfect rental has yet to present itself. Most all say "no pets" yet that likely could be negotiated with... if... if I had dates. So, when the time comes it seems as though it will all happen quickly.

I feel soooo ready to get moving with it all. To be done with the limbo mode. But I need to not ignore what I need for closure. As I say that, I'm not sure into what exact action that translates. But I do feel a deep sadness that wells up from time to time about leaving my native Pacific Northwest. Although I've lived in Colorado before, liked it and talked about moving back for years now.

I just plain need to acknowledge, wow, this is real. Been talking about it for a long time, but now, well, it's real. Even though I don't see various friends often anymore (understatement), I soon won't see them at all. It's time to embrace a new chapter and new start. And, I have hope for that. But, um, lest I sound stuck on the record player for those of you who understand that reference... this is big... and real.

Latch strings, guilty weather and hurry up but I have to say goodbye

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 06:22:00 +0000

Mt. Adams - Washington State
from Wikimedia Commons

Well, the garbage enclosures now have latch strings on them! My email to the management company and board was well received. However, I think the implementation of said latch strings was likely hastened by fact that the 70 year-old mother of the condo board president, who has a heart condition, also got locked in!

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

It's been the strangest almost non-existent summer here. I'm just saying, not complaining as I realize a lot of you are dealing with horridly hot weather that has you kerwhompered. But it rained so much earlier (even more than the standard rainy June) and has been cool and overcast so much that everything is off-kilter. The blackberries are just now ripening and not too tasty, yet some of the deciduous tree are starting to turn color. One of my deck plants has mold on it and another just rotted out. No heat or sun. Again, I'm not complaining, I'm just saying...

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

I'm in a strange place of wanting things to hurry up and happen with the sale, move and all. Yet there are lots of goodbyes to be had. My pal Mikel, who has driven me to countless medical appointments, is going to have a going away party for me. I gave him a list of emails including folks I haven't seen in years. Will be interesting to see who shows up and how the cross-genre gathering goes. Another pal that I've reconnected with through Facebook and haven't seen since I was 14, wants to come up from Oregon to see me before I move. So, although I want to be settled in and done with the up-in-the-air stuff, I don't want to rush through processing how big a move this is.

Yet socially this is a quiet time as many folks I know are recreating and awol this time of year. My pal Diane went up Mt. Adams the other weekend with my her crampons. Apparently it was good weather and views. I always meant to do that mountain. It's not technical, just a grunt. Yeah, always meant to do it.

Just Call Me Garbage Girl

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Sun, 07 Aug 2011 18:28:00 +0000

Yikes! I was just taking the trash out and had no idea that I was in for an adventure. I entered the enclosed trash / recycling area in which the door had recently been repaired and a new latch installed. As I prepared for the athletic move of the day, tossing the bag in the dumpster, I heard a slam and a click behind me.

Ok, well I'll figure this out... reach through slot and try to jigger the bar... remove stake from other door and try to jigger bar through slot... climb up, in flip-flops, on angled wood crossbar on door to look down and assess the latch... hanging over top of door, try lifting the latch using the stake... lose strength and fall back down... re-assess.

Evaluate climbing out options...could crawl up on dumpster (could I?) but fence is sharper there at top... oh get real you can't do that... fence in back has wheel-barrow against a tree... maybe I could lower myself on to it and... again, get real... could get to top of front fence on cross-bar and, hmm, then what... jump and land on gumby legs?... getting repetitive, but get real... could try lowering myself using a smear move... the most ridiculous of all possibilities -- I couldn't do that move back in the day!... so, back to reality ranch...

Step up on inside cross-bar and scan horizon for signs of life. Hey people it's Saturday -- where are you? And, where are the gangs of kids that are usually outside playing? The ones that were banging (literally) on my door yesterday asking to borrow the super soaker. No one, it's a ghost town.

Begin realizing how much more limited my options are now in a situation like this... start losing my humor and patience with this predicament...

The latch. It has to be the latch... climb up on the cross bar to hang over fence again... analyze the latch... continuing trying to undo it with the stake...

Finally... success after about ten minutes! Angrily wobble off drafting email to condo board in my head.

Moronic Dunderheads

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 05:15:00 +0000

Yankee Boy Basin, Colorado
(taken by Mom)

Aarghh. Spent this week filling out lots of forms and "chatting" with folks from my lender and a government program in regarding to my pending sale on my condo. I hadn't applied for the government program but was required to talk to their people since I'm upside down on the mortgage and doing a short sale.

Everything is focused towards someone who can't pay their mortgage and generally has considerable debit (not my situation). Or at least that's how the program started out. So, all their forms, powerpoints and web sites don't apply to my medical relocation / upside-down mortgage situation. And, remember, I didn't plan to get involved with these characters but my lender requires that I do at least to see if I qualify for their program or...well, the story was different from each person.

Since these folks sound like they were recently plucked from the street and jammed together in a room, the conversations are painfully non-informative as well as hard to understand with the background roar. So, around in circles I go. I'm working hard at painting an accurate and truthful picture especially in writing. One form noted that "under penalty of perjury" I had to attest to that I'd remain in my residence for the next 12 months. Well, that's plain not true. At least I certainly hope not since I have an offer on the table.

I raised concern about signing that with the negotiating broker, my lender, and the government program person. They all said things to the effect...oh, yeah that doesn't make sense as two programs merged and they didn't really change the forms right. Don't worry about it. I kept balking at that idea. Finally, one told me to cross it out and sign.

My realtor sent me an email saying that this must feel familiar -- similar to dealing with with doctors or insurance. Well, yes it does. The information is about as non-sensical as that from "my pals" at the health insurance company.

They've regularly created new reasons for still not reimbursing my wheelchair. Seriously, they've exhausted any remotely legitimate issue and presented a lot of very silly ones. At this point, they're about down to not liking the font on the receipt. I shouldn't joke about that as they actually didn't like the original vendor receipt and required that I get a new one as my credit card information wasn't sufficient to ensure that the bill was paid.

This got me to thinking. One of the things I miss about working is the range of encounters I had. Sure, there were things I hated to do and projects from hell. However, there were also those days with a really good training session. Or a meeting where you all felt like high-fiving as a long sought after goal was reached. And, in between there was a fair amount of mundane yet smaller goals reached. Yeah, the whole range of experience not just the head-banging end of the spectrum.

I'm really, really tired...angry...bitter even. In fact, I was looking at the labels I use for posts. I redid them a while back trying to consolidate. I must have removed the "anger" label. What denial was I in that day?!

I know things will get better. But right now I'm mighty tired of continual dealings with absurd irrational drivel shoveled out from moronic dunderheads working for nonsensical loathsome systems.

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

On the upside in life. I decided to take the vacuum to my old overheating laptop. One vent was rather small and the hose made the fans go on in spite of it being powered off. Using a BBQ skewer and the vacuum, I fished out a fair amount of lint. I'm fully aware that this is not how it should be done. However, I can open a desktop box and fish around but not a laptop!

This rather harsh method of cleaning out the bunnies really ticked off the computer. I got the we can't get your op system to boot would you like to try restoring? message. Was thinking to myself, you really are brain damaged Donna - what were you thinking?!

Anyway, eventually it got up and running. While the battery is still toast and it overheats a bit, it's nothing like the burning fingers and continual fan running like before. Back in business for a while longer while I can assess replacement options.

Here's to low-tech solutions :)

Diagnosis, Condo Offer and Norway

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Sun, 24 Jul 2011 07:34:00 +0000

One of the fun images from a recent MRI.
A pal thinks I look like Homer Simpson.
Reminds me of Polynesian art.

My realtor noted a couple weeks ago that when things finally started to move, all would break loose. Quite prophetic she was.

I received a definitive MS diagnosis this week after a more involved than average diagnostic journey. The MS Neurologist said something to the effect that doesn't this feel good to be vindicated and have this clarity? Well, yes it really does. I'm sure she wouldn't say that to someone new on the block. But in my case, we were both happy that a particular test came back positive.

It's been three and a half years and I've already let go of many things already in life, including working. While grief still visits in cycles, I've rather matter-of-factly accepted that I won't have the life I once thought I would. So, it's actually a relief to have a tighter label to navigate and advocate for myself in the ding-dang systems -- the hardest aspect of this whole mess for me. At least at this point.

In any case, my clinical presentation is still considered non-classic and she wouldn't necessarily put me in any of the four MS categories. This leaves the future prognostically wide-open. That's ok, I don't think the calibration on the neurological crystal ball is that accurate anyway. In fact, I didn't even go there in my questioning.

Almost as exciting was a referral to someone to look at my pained head. The nurse advocate and I saw my neurosurgeon recently about getting the hardware out in my head. He was hesitant to proceed with a surgical approach for which he wasn't convinced would be the solution. He suggested botox among other things. This, of course, is what my Primary doc had in mind last Fall when she first referred me to Dr. Pain and that whole debacle commenced.

So I asked the MS doc who is in a different hospital system if she had someone in mind. She's referring me to a Neurologist who I saw and liked a couple years ago. He occasionally does botox but better yet, has experience with hemiplegic migraines. I'm not saying I have those, but when my migraine-style headaches get really bad, I get quite ataxic and sometimes the left side looks stroke-like, especially my face. So, I'm happy to see someone who might look at the big picture and take these concerns into account as well.

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

Same day that I saw the MS doc, I came home to an offer which has been accepted by the broker who will negotiate the short sale. As there is a massive glut of condos in my small town turned bedroom community for Seattle / Bellevue / Microsoft as well as major issues with some of the associations, condos on the market here are almost all exclusively short sales or foreclosures. So, we're excited about the offer which is -- are you ready -- 59% of what I paid five years ago.

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

Some volunteers were working at the

Gjendebu huts in Jotenheimen National

Park in Norway when I was there.

This is their artistic rendering of some

of their findings.

In 2004, I spent the summer studying and traveling in Norway. I had studied Norwegian for two years prior and was in class with people who had moved to Norway and were attempting to integrate into Norwegian society. Many of them were medical professionals who had to achieve a certain grade in this level of the language before moving on. I had planned to stay the remainder of the year in northern Norway. Although I traveled to the north, I did not stay due to not receiving funding for a project.

For some reason I tended to hang out with native Spanish speakers from Argentina, Columbia, and Nicaragua. Although I don't speak spanish, our study sessions were conducted in Spangnorglish. The incredibly open attitude in the country wrapped in wee bit of disdain for those bringing up security issues was perceived as naive by my pals who hailed from more dangerous countries. Variations on this theme as well as multiculturalism in Norway was a topic of our conversations many times.

Today I'm very sad for the individuals / families involved in the recent attacks, Norway as a country, and the world. For the loss of innocence of what has been one of the safest countries in the world. I have so much more to say and yet so little to say.

Weird or Cool?

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 01:26:00 +0000

Ok, in the post Armed and Ready I fibbed a bit. You know, the part about using the Super Soaker judiciously. I'd been leaving it out on the landing for one neighbor kid in particular to borrow. However, the other night, a couple kids were playing in the grassy courtyard below. One was my pal Emma. They were taunting me to spray them. Well, I was feeling and moving unusually well that day. So, I just couldn't let my reputation be tarnished!

Fortunately Emma's mom joined in on my balcony. That allowed me to hang back a bit. Then our other neighbor, the one who gave me the soaker, came out with his. After a few air shots, he gave it to the kids to shoot up at us. And, they nailed us.

Earlier when Emma found out the soaker on our shared stair landing was mine, she gave me a rather incredulous look. This led me to ponder. Do these kids think it's weird or cool that adults such as me are into this? The next day there was a knock on the door. It was the boy, about 8 years old or so, that often borrowed the soaker. No, he didn't want to use the soaker, but did I want to come out and play?

The best offer I'd had in a long time! Sadly I was in no state to do so but was highly flattered! So, he must think I'm cool, right? (rhetorical -- don't answer!)

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

There are rumors of an offer on my place. Not holding my breath but maybe third time will be a charm.

My brand spanking new laptop has cooling system issues. These are the stats for seeking support the old-fashioned way, by phone:

80 minutes, 5 transfers, 6 people, 2 out of 6 people I understood, 4 disconnects, multiple driver downloads and tests when tech was remoted in, one brawl with cat to keep him from pouncing on keyboard, and one service repair appointment to replace a defective part.

The very last person had the misfortune of starting our conversation with, "So Ms. xxxx, how is your day going?" Seriously?!!

The tech came by today and replaced the motherboard, fan, and heating sync. Watching him take apart the laptop into tons of pieces, I was rather convinced that it wouldn't work again, ever. Kept thinking that some things weren't meant to be opened -- like laptops and noggins. But all appears ok, at least in regards to the computer :)

Armed and Ready

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 05:42:00 +0000

2 liter water cannon

Ok, I'm actually being a big talker girl about the armed and ready.

The neighbor kids have been engaging in water fights in the grassy courtyard. I think it's finally summer! In any case, my neighbor pals and I were noting how they had more sophisticated stuff than we had when we were kids. I said something to the effect that it would be fun to sit on my balcony and blast them. Well, look what the neighbor pals picked up for me! A hydro cannon super soaker. Oh yeah.

You have to pump it a lot and then you can shoot about 35 feet. Well, the first night, I messed around with it. It's heavy and I could feel wonk setting in right away. Woke the next daily to quite limited movement in all aspects. So, I will use the power of the water cannon judiciously! Still very cool.

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

I haven't been posting and commenting as much as my computer has turned into a red-hot flaming machine. The cooling system isn't working properly although the fan runs continuously. So, it's literally toasty typing. For fire safety, I actually keep the machine off most of the time. As there were other problems with my older laptop, I bit the bullet and decided to replace it. The new one should be here in a few weeks.

Will write more when the finger tips aren't burning so!

Just Life Continuing

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Sun, 19 Jun 2011 05:10:00 +0000

Mt. Rainier -- via Emmons Glacier

Well, the bicycle, picket, glacier wands, climbing helmet, climbing harness, crampons, avalanche beacon and various locking 'biners are gone. Still lots of gear in the shed. My pal Diane is taking a glacier climbing course so I bequeathed the gear to her and the bike to the neighbors. I'd figured some of the climbing stuff was too old and needed to be retired. But Diane had her instructors look it over and they approved it.

It really wasn't that hard as I don't really miss hauling a glacier climbing pack (way heavier than a regular overnight backpack), getting up in the middle of the night and roping up my fate to others as we wander the dark trying to avoid crevasses. I actually did little of this. Now, thinking about backpack trips and alpine summit scrambles with snowfields, route finding and, if lucky, a glissade on the way down...well, that does make my heart ache from time to time.

Things have quieted down with the condo, I've quit the struggle of making my bed to keep the place in "show condition". Had my first showing in three weeks the other day.

Met the nurse advocate the other day for the first time in a long while. She had a suggestion for a second opinion to Dr. Pain who might do a far less invasive procedure, a nerve block, which had been the original intent. Talked about a visit to the MS Neuro, hardware removal, issues with my LTD, etc. On one hand I get really wound up like an excited child to be talking to a non-pixelated person who is knowledgeable about these things/my case. But with all the various issues, it was a bit overwhelming.

It's green, blooming and beautiful here. Early PNW summer -- sunny one day, rainy and gray the next. I had the back door open the other day and Jake was having a blast chasing, catching and chomping on flies. Reminded me of the Simon's Cat video: Fly Guy. Mom bought a cat calming CD with new age-like music. Once she listened to it, she said she didn't really like it. Jake agrees and usually leaves the room.

Decisions

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Tue, 24 May 2011 22:44:00 +0000

Hmm, which to keep?

I'm avoiding doing grown-up things today. Considering that I was somewhat out-of-commission with my head in an invisible vise yesterday, and I've been doing more than the usual big-people decision/interaction stuff, I think I'm entitled.

Had two offers come and go on my condo. One decided to pursue a foreclosed unit in my complex. Dunno about the other. Considering the glut of condos on the market in my town, I've had a fair amount of interest. Which is good but hard for me to keep up with. It's not like I live in squaller, but having to make the bed, vacuum more (a very athletic event), and just vacate my home for a while does take its toll. I'm lucky that I can usually go next door to hang out.

The "Shed"

Have had a couple in-home estimates from movers. Although I come from a can-do kind of family and I wouldn't usually consider this sort of thing, it appears to be cheaper. Renting a large U-Haul (or other truck) for one-way, the fuel and paying a crew to pack or unload on each end is actually a bit more expensive.

This all has been a reality hit, the moving a whole household even if small. When I moved to Seattle over 13 years ago, I didn't even own a bed. I slept on an inch thick pad on the floor. I was the definition of a minimalist. Somewhere along the way I decided to claim my American birthright and become a consumer. And, here I am.

Ice axes & Picket

In any case, I've been trying to go through things little by little to pare down. But for the most part, I'm just really not much of a packrat. Am just running into lots of items that, well, I guess I just need to deal with but raise lots of questions. Might I get better? Who knows. However, I can't imagine being robust enough that I need a picket (for anchoring into the mountain when climbing on snow) or having the balance for skate skiis. I'm not in denial here about the better worse thing. Just don't know. Although docs who have tossed very different atypical diagnoses my way have have suggested that progression is likely.

So anyway, will keep one of the three sleeping bags but likely don't need the -40 F bag anymore. Thank goodness -- the dang thing never kept me that warm when I was snow camping anyway. Probably keep the small day packs and get rid of the larger ones and so on. My pal Diane is taking a glacier climbing class and will go through some of my things. Although most of the climbing stuff should be "retired" as it's old enough.

Relatively easy scramble up Mt. Phelps

I'm absolutely keeping my main ice axe (the blue one). I never really liked technical climbing. But off-trail alpine scrambling, especially kicking steps up snow slopes was my comfort zone -- my happy place. Glissading down slopes in minutes that took you hours to go up is just hysterical laughing, almost pants peeing fun as long as you can keep it in control.

Yeah, I'm keeping the ice axe if for nothing other than sentimental value.

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

You know the sky mall magazines on the plane that have either ridiculous items or ridiculously priced items? Well, my sister saw this, thought of Jake, tore it out of the magazine and sent it to me. I haven't stopped laughing yet as well as threatening Jake!

Back from the Diagnostic Road

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Wed, 04 May 2011 04:55:00 +0000

Am back from the exercise testing and muscle biopsy hijinks. Dad watched the muscle biopsy -- said it just looked like raw meat. Steak house anyone? Did you say rare?

Don't think any light was shed regarding answers.

Am totally kerwhompered and in pain. So, will share more later.

Looks like I have an offer on the condo. Will see what happens.

I don't usually include music videos in my blogs. But here's my favorite singer-songwriter, Cheryl Wheeler, expressing some thoughts about plane travel. Actually it wasn't quite that bad. Exhausting beyond belief, yes. But not quite as bad as Cheryl's version...

Just installed this widget -- kinda interesting to see what it comes up with for suggestions...

Stomach Whirly-Gigs, Lame Pics, and Stealth Packing

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 06:08:00 +0000

I'm headed out soon to see a specialist who does testing for metabolic myopathies. This has been on the radar for a year and a half and in the works for at least half of that time. It's taken an awful lot to get this to come into being. I've got two docs rooting for me on this yet I feel almost superstitious talking about it. There's a heaviness about it for me since I'm pretty dang close to the end of the diagnostic road. Have had my hopes up many times. So, I'm trying to keep even-keel about it. Yet when I think about it, I get whirly-gigs in my stomach which is rather unusual for me. Yeah, a sense of dread. Will talk more about it afterwards.

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

Figuratively shooting in the dark

Sometimes it would just be so handy to have someone around. As my head has been hurting and itching where I had the RFA, I decided I should see what's going on under that hair. Did the second solo scalp shave. That was a mess. But who knew my compass mirror would still come in handy?

Unfortunately, it revealed a rather nasty red swollen oozing mess. Hopefully it's just from a medicated pain cream that Dr Pain prescribed. It's a shame too as it was a compounding cream of six pain meds that came all the way from Alabama and took many, many phone calls as it's expensive.

The next hurdle was attempting to take a pic so I could send it to the doc. The first few ended up like the one above until I sat the camera on the table and measured where I should sit. Finally, got a really good pic. And, then the neighbors came over and took and even better pics. But you'll have to take my word for it. I'm not posting them -- rather unpalatable.

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

Jake has always become a wee bit upset when he sees my suitcase come out. We've also had strangers tromping through our place and he's spent more time than usual hanging out under the bed. So, he's a bit on edge. Last time I flew him back to Colorado was a bit much for him. Not the flight but all the transition once we got there. We left to Utah, we all came back, then I left to my sister's and came back. Well, he decided to let me know what he thought about that all. When I returned from my sister's and had my suitcase on the floor, he peed in it.

Yes! My well-behaved cat that meticulously wipes his paws upon exiting the "box" after doing his business in a very routine and particular fashion. The cat who spends hours and hours grooming and hates being dirty. Basically, if Jake were human he'd be a metro-sexual and get manicures. Anyway, after being angry and feeling betrayed, I eventually got over it. I have subjected the guy to a lot and he did come with some baggage from the being the vet school practice cat.

In any case, with that in mind and to avoid any fiascos, I'm stealth packing. My washer and dryer are in a closet that Jake pretty much has no interest in. So, I've set my small bag there that I'll take and have been casually sneaking things down the hall and stacking them on the dryer...stealth packing. Jake, by the way, will be well taken care of by pals here at our place.

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

Well, I honestly admit I'm in a state of subdued fear. Feel free to send some good vibes my way and I'll be in touch on the flip side of this latest diagnostic, umm, adventure.

Just life

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Tue, 19 Apr 2011 03:59:00 +0000

Just life happenings...

Blooming Tulip Tree in Town

Went downtown Seattle for a doctor appointment a few weeks ago. It's a very big excursion for me. As the bus worked its way through downtown, memories rushed out from various buildings...

Oh yeah, I contracted and taught a class there at City Hall... worked in that building on the 13th floor... walked the stairs a couple times a day... remember hanging out under your desk during the Nisqually earthquake feeling like a fool?... oh yeah, worked over there too -- gads, what a truly dreadful job... hey, almost got tear-gassed over there trying to get home from work during WTO...

I've made lots of transitions as an adult but have been in the Seattle area for 13-14 years now -- a record for me. Am also originally from Oregon with historical family roots in the Pacific Northwest. The awareness hits me now and then that this will be quite the chapter change in life. The recent day downtown Seattle was one of those times.

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

One of my Alaskan cats, Sid aka Griz

Sometimes I'm under the illusion that I now know how to better deal with the medical system. This sort of thinking, however, usually sets in when I haven't dealt with the medical system for a while. Funny how that works. Just suffice it to say I've been dealing with three buggered up situations. One for over two months. Today it kind of peaked -- @#$%^&*^!!

Would occasionally like a bit of "care" from the health care system and less pushing the boulder up the hill.

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

Strangers have now been tromping through my home. Days are filled with using energy in attempts to keep the place in show condition -- aargh. The open house was yesterday. I'm really fortunate that I can go hang out at my neighbor's during a showing. Can pick up my internet through the walls and surf, check out her overwhelming array of cable choices (I'm a non-cabler), or more likely, nap.

Winter climb

My neighbor has an X-Box which hooks up to Netflix movies. She was attempting to teach me the succession of steps with the three controls. As we'd done this once before, she was being very methodical this time and testing me on repeating the steps. There was a bit of, umm, a sing-song tone -- ok, now how would you get back there? I don't blame her but it was odd. Both experiencing and being a witness my cognitive challenges. But hey, I did find Netflix again... I think.

Spider Gap, Salami on Rye and a WWII Bi-Plane - Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Wed, 13 Apr 2011 18:33:00 +0000

Continued from Part 1 ...

It took a year or so to re-connect with the fellow who offered me a bi-plane ride in exchange for three smooshed sandwiches, and open-faced at that. Between busyness on both our parts and then winter intervening, it was about a year before we arranged a time.

We all choose to take different risks. By backpacking and running around mountains alone for many years, I had taken rather significant risks knowing that a simple twisted ankle could turn into a very big deal. But with eyes wide open, I had chosen to do that.

But who was this guy that I was entrusting to take me up into an old WWII bi-plane? Research found him to be a successful fourth-generation business man farmer, consultant to government agencies on agriculture, and so on. Ok, so he wasn't a flake. Well, that had never really entered my mind -- his demeanor was definitely that of a solid trust-worthy person.

The plane was beautiful and obviously his pride. He said he didn't get out in it enough due to other responsibilities. As I looked over this beauty, that was spotless inside and out, a wee fear started to nag at me. Growing up, I had a fair amount of motion sickness. I remember a family road trip where my brother was adamantly claiming that he wasn't going to sit next to "the puker". Although I'd mostly outgrown it, it still cropped up from time to time. I started recalling the queasiness I had when a friend took me up for a calm ride in his Cessna. A mantra started in my head, I will not get sick...I will not puke. Yikes, I hadn't even thought about this.

After we got up in the air, Mr K gently started a few maneuvers to see how I responded. Ok. Then he suggested doing "a stall". The name is misleading as the plane doesn't actually stall but it's kind of a spinning nose-dive towards the ground. The first one he did was rather mild according to him. I thought it rather breath-taking. The second one, executed with more gusto, was completely a heart-in-throat experience for me.

Now comes the part where I must admit my yellow-belliedness. Mr. K asked if I wanted him to do a roll... I said no. Doh! My one and only chance to be in bi-plane doing a roll and I chickened out. But hey, I didn't puke - remember?

There were also controls in my section of the plane. Mr K explained how they worked. I had my hands on them as he recited various actions. At one point he told me that he wasn't controlling it -- he'd taken his hands off his controls. Actually, I'm pretty sure his hand were centimeters away from resuming control. I sadly maneuvered the plane about ten degrees to the left and back. I think he was disappointed. I fully admit that I'm not hearty about operating mechanical devices.

As we flew around the valley, Mr K pointed out his various agricultural operations. We saw the islands and sound as well as Mt. Baker in the distance. Not bad for three smooshed sandwiches.

Spider Gap, Salami on Rye, and a WWII Bi-Plane - Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Wed, 06 Apr 2011 19:01:00 +0000

Tent with a View
Camped on the moraine below Lyman Glacier

The online DVD program that I subscribe to recently sent me an email with suggestions for my queue. I noted the classification themes they'd chosen for me...betrayal; plagues and epidemics; dangerous friends; hired killers; political unrest; existential crisis; and lone wolves. Yikes! The only neutral themes were members of the press and inventors.

So, I think I need to lighten up with a trip down memory lane... and I'd promised to tell the bi-plane story...

About ten years ago I headed out for a solo backpack trip for a few days in the Cascade mountains here. I don't recall if everyone was busy or whether I just decided to head out on my own. Previously, I'd traipsed a lot in the mountains by myself for days. However, I hadn't gone out solo in a long time as most of my trips at that time were summit-oriented with a group or at least one other.

The first night I set up my tent in the forest having had a late start after driving half way across the state. While I'd always felt varying degrees of comfort in the back country by myself, that night I heard all sorts of noises and made up stories in my head. I had my ice ax next to me in the tent but knew that my days feeling more comfortable doing this were slipping past.

Usually when I broke above treeline into the alpine environment, my would heart sing. The expanse across the mountain ranges made me feel as though things were well in the world no matter what was happening back in the lowlands. This place was no exception. I stopped at the pass, Spider Gap, for a snack and views (the low point in the mountain range in the picture below). It was there that I met a man with his two grandsons on an overnight trip.

Spider Gap, North Cascades, Washington State

We chatted for a bit and he told me their destination. It was a very long ways but they planned to do it all that day. I looked at the younger one (eight, nine?) and wondered how that would work. Then he admitted that they'd calculated a bit wrong on food and had run out or were very low. So, they really needed to make their destination - today.

I understood how this could happen. Having done many, many overnight trips in the mountains, the goal usually was to carry the least amount of food weight but make sure I had enough for an extra day. On trips where I carried more gear (climbing harness, crampons, and such), I went really light on food. However, on a solo ramble I loaded up and didn't skimp. When I was going out regularly, like almost every weekend in the summer, I'd have it down to a routine. But when I hadn't been out in a while I usually over or undershot the mark. So, again, I could see how this would happen.

We said our good-byes and I headed down the trail. The same trail, they'd be following. As I walked, I was calculating if I had extra food. Now don't get me wrong -- I'm not that generous when it comes to food. Definitely not a member of the benevolent order of food sharers. You know when you go out to Asian food and some chump says, "Why don't we order it family style?" Gah! You'll order stuff I don't like and then eat a bunch of my food that I do like. All the while telling me what a great dish I ordered. Dad still reminds me about something from our three week trip when he helped me move down from Alaska. We camped out in really cold weather and apparently when I'd cook our one-pot meals on the backpacking stove, I'd draw a line down the middle of the food declaring assigned food portions. Or so he claims.

View from Cloudy Pass -- looking back where I had been
Lyman Lake in foreground, Lyman Glacier moraine in midground where
my "Tent with a View" was and Spider Gap in the background

In any case, since I'd decided to stay out one less day than planned and hadn't skimped, I could certainly spare some. In fact losing some pack weight would be good. I had descended down from the pass and went out to the long gravel moraine below the glacier to get away from the trail and drop my pack. I sorted through the food. Oh, yeah, way more than I needed. So, I fished out three open-face sandwiches -- havarti and salami on rye -- to put them into a separate bag.

Soon, I saw the three in the distance coming down the trail. I grabbed the sandwiches and headed back over to the trail. As expected, when I offered them, the man said no I can't accept those. It took a fair amount of convincing that I had more than enough food. I wasn't shorting myself. Really. He paused and said, "I'll accept these as long as you promise me one thing." Ok. He pulled out his business card and told me that he had an old WWII Bi-plane. He promised me to contact him for a ride. Now how cool is that? A bi-plane ride for three rather small open-face smooshed-up sandwiches?

The next day, I wandered across the valley up to another pass to look back where I'd been camped and over in the direction the three guys went. Probably rambled a few ridges but don't recall doing any summits. I wondered if they made their destination where presumably food was waiting. I imagined the kids thinking rye bread was really icky. I pondered how on some solo trips I didn't see anyone once I was a few miles out from the trailhead. How this had been a nice low-key but very unusual outing. And, about the bi-plane.

Since this is getting rather long... to be continued...

Part 2 of the Bi-Plane story

Changes

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Sun, 27 Mar 2011 19:29:00 +0000

My courtyard/deck view in summer

Ok, I finally decided to put my condo up for sale. It's time to be in a more appropriate place for me -- no cement steps to the second story entrance and closer to family and assistance. Unfortunately, condo values in my town have been hit particularly hard -- harder than houses and most areas according to some. Many are selling for, uh, shall we say radically less than a few years ago. Mine is now upside-down as the saying goes. Makes it sound kind of festive, don't you think? But in spite of these things, I need to do what I need to do.

So, I've done a fair amount of research on the issues involved, interviewed several folks -- realtors and a negotiation broker -- and consulted a property attorney practicing in specialized real estate transactions. Although I'm relatively analytical and thorough to the best of my energy, sometimes I feel as though I'm just playing adult in these situations. Images of my sister and I as little girls playing dress-up flit across my mind's eye. In any case, I'm comfortable with the team that I have chosen. I'd better be now that I've filled out and supplied reams of paperwork.

I love the trees outside my window

My realtor is quite understanding of my situation. She's dealt with family caretaking issues, has a family member with MS, and is sensitive to my fatigue towards the end of a session. Well, I suppose my right arm flying up in the air would tip off even the less sensitive these days. Regardless, she goes out of her way to make sure I'm up to scheduled events and comes to my place for all our meetings. Professionally, she's knowledgeable about my complex as she's sold a unit here and I've noticed my humble abode is substantially more modest than her average listing.

So, Mom and Dad, the road warriors, came out once again to help with getting a few things in order. Mom tackled wrapping Grandma's china not quite knowing what an extensive task that was, did some cleaning (she does windows!) and cooked us good meals. Dad painted, tended to the car and did lots of projects like scrubbing the winter grunge off the deck. Dad also helped with another project involving a razor -- but that's another post that will be coming.

So, change is coming. I'm sure the transition will hold plenty of challenges, but I'm looking forward to the change. I think.

Oh, Muff asked for some pictures of my wee deck garden so...

Ok, the next two aren't really the garden but...

What a Numbskull and False Summits

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 07:35:00 +0000

Taken by my pal daffish
on a recent outing

Although I usually sport a large numb portion on my skull -- wow, this is NUMB. I'd forgotten the bizarre juxtaposition of heavy brick-like numbness intermixed with pain. I could list pillow futzing and arranging as a serious hobby.

So, the actual Radiofrequency Ablation (RFA) day was a bit of a debacle. The short story is the tech broke the regular machine, the doc was pretty annoyed and insisted they use the other machine. The tech kept muttering something about not having used it before. I was on my stomach in the face cradle saying things like, "Should we do this another day? Do we really have everything we need?" He kept reassuring me that things were fine.

The next 30-40 minutes were Dr Pain talking the tech through literally every step of the procedure. Something like...ok now press the far right yellow button...no, no, up in the right...ok, see the lever below?...yes, yes, that's it keep increasing it...Donna, do you feel anything...uh, no...ok, keep increasing it...ok, see the button for cauterize?...yes, yes, that's it press that. And on and on and on it went like that.

Drizzle Season By-Products

I was feeling rather unglued and emotional. It was a classic scenario of how not to build confidence in your patient. At one point briefly after Dr. Pain had said for me to let him know if I was feeling anything uncomfortable as they were doing a burn, I felt a sudden jab and sting. I started yelling. He was only giving me another numbing shot and had forgotten to tell me he was doing that. He said, "Don't scare me like that!" I told him to inform me next time. He said, ok, ok, you can slap my wrists later.

Most of the time it wasn't too bad -- just the last of the four burns. I was groaning loudly and Dr. Pain was counting off the seconds. I think he was cheating -- reminded me of a water aerobics instructor I used to have that would mess with us by altering the count.

As time went on I began not viewing Dr. Pain as the crank. He was trying to be patient about instructing the tech on each step although annoyance would sometimes seep through. I started wondering why the tech wasn't improving on the learning curve. Found out later that she only works four days a month. So, that really had been a training session. Crikey.

Am working on not having buyer's remorse. Keep telling myself to give it at least a week before letting the jury come in. Things are still swollen back there and my body is usually rather reactive to invasive procedures. Things need to settle.

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

Meeting with a real estate agent tomorrow. That's pretty real. My car apparently needs some very expensive repair work (think head gaskets). That too is real. And, having lots of conversations about trying to get the wheelchair I want which is a much better chair than the one the in-network DME provider has for which they charge 3 times what you can buy it for online. I think I'll take a mental vacation day soon.

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Sahalee Summit - North Cascades
From what I recall, the real one

I haven't talked about this next thing as it's so important to me. I've felt almost superstitious about mentioning it. But what the heck, I don't seem to be on a roll of luck lately. Maybe talking about this will break the spell.

I haven't given up on a diagnosis. Actually trying to navigate the system without one is a pain. Even if it's something without a cure, the diagnostic knowledge guides symptomatic approaches as well as things to avoid. I'm getting worse, especially the breathing, and would be nice to know if that could be treated. And, damn it, I want to know.

It's been in the works for a very, very long time now. I'll be going to Texas at the end of April to see a mitochondrial / neurometabolic specialist. I do have concerns about some limitations on the evaluation. But it will be a start for shaking the tree in an area that really makes sense with my clinical presentation.

Although so much went into bringing this event about, for some reason I can't stir up any excitement. I just get a fear, pit-in-my-stomach kind of feeling. Am somehow afraid to have hope. Reminds me of false summits on mountains. You'll look up, bone weary, and think, "that's it!" Just as you crest, there's a huge expanse of the remaining route to the real summit. I think as it gets closer, I'll be able to cultivate at least a more neutral attitude. I am grateful to have the appointment. I hope it's the summit or at least close to the real summit.

Gratitude and Angry Gratitude

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Fri, 25 Feb 2011 06:21:00 +0000

Well, am going to see "Dr. Pain" on Monday for the radiofrequency nerve ablation of the scalp nerve that's irritated by my hardware. Actually I've had a lot less pain since the temporary numbing agent was injected into the nerve. Looks like it calmed things down a bit. So, am cautiously optimistic.

Mikel on snowshoe trip

This is the gratitude part of the post. My pal Mikel is taking me. He's chauffeured me to countless appointments even going in with me to see the neurosurgeon. He's seen me stagger out of several needle biopsies, a lumbar puncture, nerve conduction tests, insulting consults as well as productive appointments. Definitely someone who has stayed for the long haul.

When I first moved to my town, folks told me about an informal local hiking club that had been around for a couple decades run by a guy named Mikel. Little did I know that I was about to meet great people, especially two in particular that would remain deeply centered in my life in spite of the outdoors no longer being the glue that bound us.

After my first sudden mysterious crippling episode in December of 2007, Mikel would go on walks with me as I slowly rehabilitated at that time. He was always questioning what was going on and frequently expressed more anger at the docs than I did, well, at least back in those days. As things progressed, Mikel made it clear that he was there for me. He's been one of my teachers in learning how to be more direct in asking for assistance. He gets annoyed if I make too much of a fuss about it.

Spring 2009 - last outing with Mikel and
gang. I was wonked for a week.

Last summer sometime Mikel picked me up for an appointment, again. It was with a new specialist. I sat in the passenger seat with my binder and my mixed feelings -- hope -- don't get your hopes up -- here we go again, all broiling about in me. As usual, he asked questions and we discussed the latest medical test or issues at hand. He suddenly said, "You know, I've been impressed by how you handle this yet you don't display any emotion about this." I thought my family who gets the brunt of that would beg to differ. He continued, "I want you to know that it's ok to share your feelings and show emotions about this."

After the appointment Mikel suggested we go to lunch. Out of character, I decided I felt up to it and said yes. When we got there we stayed in the car for quite some time talking. I really opened up and dove into my fears. Especially my financial fears and just facing the future alone. I cried. Mikel thanked me for opening up and allowing him to help carry my burden even if for a few minutes. I thought, wow.

Mikel, pals, and Sara dog
at Snow Lake

But get this. Most of my adult life I've been on the natural side -- no makeup. However, I started wearing just a little again when I got sick. I think it made me feel better. Dunno. So, Mikel and I had lunch and then I went home and rested. Later that night, I happened to look at myself in the mirror and thought, holy smokes, what's wrong with my eyes? My good pal Mikel who will take me to countless appointments in the city, go on itsy bitsy walks with me, and so on, for some reason couldn't tell me I had make-up smeared all over my eyes. Then I recalled my extensive questioning of the waiter about whether they used flour in the sauce. I thought he was looking at me strangely because of my questions. Now I knew it was my black eyes. Too funny!

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

This is the angry gratitude part of the post. Without going into detail, I've been working on straightening out some things with my LTD company. Let's just say it's been a couple months and error, after error, after error. The letter, the W-2, the excess FICA, and two months of withheld checks. I'm grateful that I have a savings. I'm grateful that even though I've had a few scary cognitive incidences lately, that I can still sort these things out. I'm grateful that my slow, but still intact, attention to detail caught these things. To summarize, these errors when corrected will be ~$3,500 in my favor. Seriously.

I'm angry for folks that due to their condition or for other reasons are not in a postion to catch these things. To continually takes notes, chip away understanding the details or make the 20th phone call. I'm angry for the folks who can't cover a couple months without their LTD check while two organizations point the finger at each other. I'm angry that once these bureaucracies are in one's life (in this case it's two private companies) that error becomes the norm not the exception. And, I'm angry that my precious limited energy has been going to this especially when I went to great lengths to do things "right."

Aack, sorry to end on a downer. Maybe I should have flipped these sections. It is getting resolved.

Dr. Pain

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Fri, 11 Feb 2011 00:49:00 +0000

First attempt at a ZenTangle
of sorts after a Migraine

The first migraine-style headache occurred around Christmas of 2006 after a day of back country skiing. That night I awoke with an unbelievable stabbing pain behind my right eye that drove down to the back of my skull. Sensationalized images of an ice pick and other such fanciful visions ensued. I emerged the next morning proclaiming that I couldn't imagine having a headache that bad without having a freaking brain tumor. Ahem.

It was probably a good six months before I had another headache like that. Little by little they began occurring a bit more often. Prior to my surgery, I was leaving work every few weeks with one. After the craniotomy, this was the headache pattern that I had for some time.

Fast forward to now. In spite of a variety of meds, my scalp on the side with the hardware is usually a focal point of daily discomfort ranging from scalp/face tightness to robust headaches. It waxes and wanes with weather and anti-spasticity med doses. Fortunately, full-on migraine-style headaches are rare. But it's enough that my primary referred me to a Pain doc.

The ten page form his office sent was enough to send me into a raging headache filling it out. It had unbelievably repetitive questions about suspected despair levels in life...do you sometimes feel you just can't go on? (this same question was asked over and over and over again in varied forms). And, then the life history questions about all sorts of things and, did I have a happy childhood?...check yes or no. Seriously. Happy childhood is a binary question; yes or no.

I'm not denying the body-mind connection; I'm a believer. In fact, I'm involved in many alternative medicine approaches that encompass this concept. However, I just don't think you can expect any kind of qualitative information by approaching the emotional aspects of our lives in the same manner as "list the meds to which you're allergic." In any case, I fumed for a few days before filling out the thing. Don't think the doc looked at it much any way and the nurse checking me in went off about how ridiculous the form was.

Oh, to be a formative child again!

One of Dr. Pain's first questions was, "Why don't you get the hardware removed?" Oh, I'd so love to and hope to some day. However, my neurosurgeon really wasn't keen on that. Apparently it's not as straight-forward as hitting reverse on the drill to back a screw out of the wall. He blamed my pain with the screws on my muscle tightness from the neurowonk condition. So Dr Pain and I talked tizanidine vs. baclofen vs. baclofen pump.

My primary doc was hoping I might get some botox for that area to reduce the spasm. Due to the cost, Dr. Pain felt he should explore other options first but was open to it. He thought that a temporary (four hour) trial of numbing the area would be helpful. Then if that helped, he would cauterize the nerve in that area at another appointment. This was all a new idea to me and sounded rather disagreeable -- cauterize. Hmm, that brought up images.

I was still processing this new idea while he poked around until he found "the spot." That place that I refer to as my "speaking in tongues spot." It usually elicits strange garbled sounds from me as well as a limb or two flying up. Unlike most folks who probe tentatively in that region, Dr. Pain was not shy. After being sufficiently satisfied that he'd found the spot due to my vocalizations and flapping arms, he began to prepare the numbing agent.

Just then the nurse popped her head in -- there was a phone call from ER -- one of his patients was there. He told her he'd be out in just a minute. Crikey, was he going to rush through this? I was sitting in a chair leaning forward with my head in my hands so he could get to the base of my skull. He was poking around an area I was sure had hardware, he assured me it wasn't. Just as he was ready to put the needle in, he stopped and said, "Oh, I should tell you that since you have metal in there, this could get infected although it's unlikely. Do you still want to do it?" Well, uh, hmm, oh hell, yeah go ahead.

Guess that was my informed consent moment. The numbing shot was a mixed bag but I'm pretty sure that one way or another, Dr Pain and I have future adventures awaiting.

Used with permission from Greg Strid, cartoonist at Splendid Marbles

The Beginning of Now

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Sun, 30 Jan 2011 04:44:00 +0000

A little over a year ago I wrote a post about the The Gravy and the Meat. At that time my concerns were focused on survival based issues rather than missing the mountain activities that have been the centerpiece of non-work life for most of my adult life. It was a scary time. Now with the ground not moving so much beneath me, at least figuratively, I'm starting to look at the gravy.

From MVSTA site

taken by Mary Kiesau

...In December 2007, I was preparing for a three day skate skiing clinic in the Methow Valley -- Mecca for skinny ski folks. Cold and sunny with 200 kilometers of set track, ex-Olympic athlete instructors, and a quaint little town. I'd been in the area climbing in the summer but never in the valley in the winter. I was so excited.

For quite some time in winter, I'd been going out in any kind of weather with some hardcore folks to scramble up summits. Sometimes it was just kicking steps up snowfields but many times we'd bash ourselves senseless on routes through the icy steep trees to avoid avalanche terrain as we went up 5,000' peaks using snowshoes, ice ax and poles. We had good times but it was getting tiring. And, I drifted away from that when I started grad school.

Lake Easton
One of my lasting outings

In regards to skiing, I'd always been mediocre at downhill despite having worked at ski resorts and was somewhat dismal at backcountry. We won't even mention telemark. Traditional xc-skiing was fine but when I discovered skate skiing, I was in love.

It was like having feathers on my feet. Fast feathers. The skis are much skinnier than traditional xc-skis and have no kick-zone. Meaning you pretty much have to skate. I loved it. It was a lot of work, especially until you learned some technique. Aerobically it was off the charts. Did I mention I loved it? In case you need a fun visual on what skate skiing is...

I was introduced to skate skiing by a couple folks who'd raced in Colorado. They taught me a thing or two. Then I pretty much headed out to the trails myself to practice. Did that for a season until one day I was attempting to skate up a hill. I stopped midway heaving dramatically for air. Meanwhile a woman of, oh say about 70, passed me skating up the hill with ease. Oh for $%*# sake! I decided that wasn't going to happen again. I started taking group and private lessons. It was so much more fun.

So, yeah, the ski clinic. I was excited. I had tweaked my knee a couple weeks before so I wanted to be very cautious. I chose to not exercise and generally laid around surfing the net as I had no TV in those days. That's when it happened. The first, and worst, flare -- viral attack -- whatever -- of my neuro-rheumo-wonk. Pain, fatigue, weird buzzing/tingling, could barely move and so on. I couldn't figure out what was going on and finally admitted to my carpooling partner that I wouldn't be going.

Lake Easton early 2008
Solo outing after the "flare"
Second to last skate ski tur

I don't know if I'll ever know what "it" was or is...MS spectrum / atypical MS... undifferentiated autoimmune disorder with Lupus-like aspects and Neuro complications... exertion intolerance with idiopathic ataxia... a neurometabolic condition of sorts and, you can figure a few others thrown in there. The general consensus is that maybe we can find a pause button but that this train will generally keep rolling onward.

Whatever it is, this bitch has stolen huge chunks of my life. I usually refrain from saying things like that. Makes me sound like a whiner and there's always someone worse off than me. I know many readers of this blog have limitations way beyond me. At one point a doc suggested I be checked out for motor neuron disease. Gads, after researching that, well, puts things in perspective. There's women in third world countries that [fill in the blank with some atrocity]. And, so on. Yet I still need to grieve my losses. They're mine and it's happened fast.

Hyak Trail at Snoqualmie Pass
The last skate outing
Didn't go too far

What started this? I came across some ski skins still in the package ($100). Thought, well, guess I should put them on Craigslist and see what I can get. As skins are for backcountry skiing, it didn't really shake me up. Then I started realizing this is the time of the year to put up my other winter gear. I should likely advertise my backcountry ski gear and, gulp, my skate ski gear. The racing boots, the graphite poles that cost more than the skis...all the stuff...

I told myself not to be rash. But for crying out loud, could I ever imagine myself using the gear again? Balancing and projecting my weight forward on one tiny ski at a time while repeatedly swinging poles around? Get real. Realities that I've known came crashing down on me. It was such an overwhelming sadness that I haven't allowed myself to really feel -- a deep penetrating grief.

Fun with Myoclonus and Head Bolts

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Thu, 06 Jan 2011 22:50:00 +0000

Bench in Glenwood Springs, CO
Amtrak Station
from The Whodunit Photographer

Possibly you had to be there to appreciate the hilarity of the experience but that won't stop me from attempting to relay it. First, the background info...

Myoclonic jerks are now more common in my life -- usually when I'm fatigued. I might feel the hand/arm jerks coming, however, the neck snap completely surprises me. It's a lightening-fast 45 degree turn of my head. Uh hello, now you're looking over your shoulder. You wanted to do that right?

The "head bolts" to which I refer are actually small titanium screws at my cranial incision site. They aren't supposed to stick out like they do. The neurosurgeon says it's due to my other condition; the ill-defined neurowonk. In any case, with fatigue and as the anti-spasticity med wears off, it gets ugly. Screws bulging out and jaggedy bony ridges protruding on each side of the deep ravine. Not that I allow too many folks to cop a feel, but when they do it generally elicits a horrified revulsion on their part. So with that...

It was a very casual dinner on New Year's Eve at my sister's. I was seated between the adult end of the table and the kid end. Right next to me was Lance -- a 9 year-old high-energy, smart, charmer-guy. On the other side of him at the end of the table was my 14 year-old niece, Kate.

All of a sudden my neck snapped and I was looking over my shoulder and down at Lance. He didn't see it happen but looked up and wondered why I was gazing at him so intently with my head cocked hard to the side. My niece witnessed this all. When our eyes met, we lost it. As in hysterical laughing, snorting, almost crying. We couldn't stop. Through fits of laughter Kate repeatedly claimed, "I'm laughing with you Auntie not at you." A claim likely induced from when I gave her a bad time about her mocking me riding the scooter at Wal-mart.

Nothing Kate or I could say would convince Lance that we weren't laughing at him. As we continued uncontrollably laughing, this began to elicit raised eyebrows a bit from the adults. Maybe Auntie D has mixed up her meds. We eventually wound down and I slithered my way to the end of the table now between Lance and Kate.

All efforts to explain to Lance what happened were in vain. Not sure how it came up, but somehow it was mentioned that I had bolts in my head. Now he was thoroughly convinced that we were yanking his chain. Nu-uh. Why do you have bolts in your head? I needed to have my head drilled open. Sure, sure, how'd they do that ...really simplified explanation...Why?...I had something called a tumor that wasn't supposed to be there. They had to take it out. Uh-huh.

He was still quite skeptical but intrigued. So, Kate suggested he feel my skull. I guided his fingers to make sure he hit the high peaks and valleys. His eyes widened as he now realized that we'd been telling the truth at least in respect to the bolt thing.

In a very enthused but almost reverent voice he uttered a very long, drawn-out, "Cool."

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

I'm in love...with the California Zephyr. I recently took the train from Glenwood Springs to Grand Junction here in Colorado. My sister was quite worried that it would "do me in." However, the quiet ride, the gentle rocking, and being able to recline with legs up, well, it was quite restful. Not to mention the nice views -- ice chunks in the Colorado River and interesting abandoned buildings along the way.

California Zephyr in Glenwood Canyon in Colorado
from WikiMedia

Solstice Intentions

noreply@blogger.com (Bibliotekaren) — Mon, 27 Dec 2010 05:34:00 +0000

2010 Solstice Lunar Eclipse
from National Geographic

Winter solstice for me is usually a quiet time of taking stock of this whole business of living. I look at my somewhat esoteric goals that I journaled from the previous year. This generally elicits amusement at my naiviete, a wistful sadness that I'm still stuck in certain areas of my life, or an acknowledgement of progress. More often than not, the second response predominates.

In spite of that, I go ahead and do the whole thing again. I write more intentions for the next year. And, yeah, intention is probably a better word than goal. I often draw Runes or Tarot and get into the whole introspective thing. There I admitted it.

The difference in my life from a year ago is rather breath-taking for me. Now that I'm an official woman of leisure (tongue in cheek), I seek to find ways to add purpose to my rather solo life. As I wrote, I consciously had to shift in thinking from "find" meaning to "create" meaning. I think I'll be heading into some areas that have been blind spots. I'm holding hope for this next year.

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

I was approved for SSDI the other day. Quite a surprise as I didn't expect to be approved on the first round from what I've heard. I'm grateful that I'm not looking at an appeal. It's also quite, uh, real. Bittersweet.

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Climbed Mt. Hood in Oregon around new year's several years ago. We got up around 11:30pm to start. This picture is of the sunrise on our way up.

The steam vents up top were really stinky with that rotten egg smell. However, the steam and the cold created some really interesting ice formations.

Hope you all had and are having good holidays.