Seven years ago, I was diagnosed with Pulmonary Embolisms (PE). Turned out that what I thought was a back ache was my lung slowly dying. Turned out that the excruciating pain I was having when breathing was my body screaming for oxygen, not walking pneumonia.
I spent a lovely week in ICU. I survived and went on a regiment of blood thinners and a diet sans most green things (although occasionally, I just cannot resist a good Caesar salad or tender asparagus). In the back of my mind, I am constantly scanning my body for any odd quirks or twinges that might signal something serious.
On Monday, after a weekend of intense deep cleaning of the house (we had a buggy issue) I woke up with a slight twinge in my back. While annoying, I attributed it to the weekend work and a possible muscle strain. I went on with my day. I brought the girls to zoo camp. I spent a quiet child-free day puttering around the house.
On Tuesday, I woke up feeling yucky. My back hurt a little more, I was still tired and groggy. And that was after I had actually gone to bed at a decent hour. I brought the girls to zoo camp and spent the day running errands. That night, still feeling gross and now mildly concerned about my back I vowed that I would get back into good habits and back into a healthier lifestyle. That night I blogged about my goals and promised myself to make changes in my life.
On Wednesday morning, around 3:30 am I woke up, still in pain and unable to get comfortable in bed. A warning sign flashed behind my eyes as I lay in the bed trying to go back to sleep. “Danger! Danger!” it flashed. You remember this kind of pain, my brain told me. I wanted to ignore my brain. I really did. But dutifully, I filed a Post-It note right in my cerebral cortex with big bold words in red: IF Deep breath=Pain THEN Go to Doctor ASAP!! Proud of my mental filing system, I got out of bed (there wasn’t anyway I was going back to sleep) and walked the dog.
After that, I felt ok. Not great, but not…panicked. Until…
My friend from work was hosting a Tastefully Simple party and as it sounded fun and as it involved food and being child-free, and as it was good company, I went. About halfway through, my early morning wake-up call caught up with me and I yawned. Big. Deep breathe in = Sharp stabbing pain.
My mind ripped through my mental Post-Its and landed on the one I wrote that morning. Refusing to panic, I acknowledged the symptoms that were so reminiscent of what I went through seven years ago. I went home. Told Scott and made arrangements to go the ER the following day.
On Thursday morning, I brought the girls to zoo camp and made the decision that I would wait until after I picked Cyra up to go to the ER. I was afraid of how long the testing would take and that Cyra and Ashleigh would be stranded. Obviously, I had people I could call, but I did not want anyone to panic. (I’m considerate.)
So Cyra and I headed to the ER. Scott met us there. And after seven hours of testing I left with a clean CT scan, a clean chest x-ray, a bruise from the I.V. line, and a diagnosis of “undetermined back/chest pain.” The doctor felt that it is most likely muscle strain, but that it was good that I came in because my Coumadin levels were too high. And as he said, “Pulmonary Embolisms aren’t something to play around with. And while there isn’t anything wrong with you, it is good to know that you are listening to what your body is telling you.”
Today I woke up after very few hours sleep, comforted in the knowledge that I woke up at all, pleased in my desired lifestyle changes and motivated to get started!
Friday, July 2, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Back into the Routine
A couple of years ago I lost a good amount a weight. This past year, I have regained every single pound I lost. I feel disgusting and tired all the time. A recent blood test revealed a possible problem with my thyroid that I didn't have two years ago!
It is time for me to get serious again about getting healthy. So to that end, I announce publicly to the world, I will get into better shape! I have set a goal to lose 100 pounds. I realize that a goal of such caliber is daunting, but I know that it will take time. Obviously, the healthiest way to go about this is to be responsible and safe. A goal therefore of 2 pounds a week, according to research, is manageable and will be my aim. I know that at some point I will plateau as I did before. Hopefully, I will be able at that point to push through it and continue on to meet my end goal.
Dieting doesn't work for me. I've tried it. Blech! And truly, my problem is not with food (although I do overindulge in sweets about once a month). However, I will start counting calories again. And most importantly watch my portions. Counting calories and following protion guidelines worked really well last time. As before, I will not deny myself the craving, but I will make sure I take only a small portion as I have found that when I deny myself what I crave I end up binging on it later.
Also, as I did before, I will step on the scale every morning. I know that it isn't recommended, but it worked for me. It was motivational and made me confront my weight every day.
The biggest problem, though, is exercise. I don't. All of the activities I enjoy, reading, crafting, writing, involve sitting. I've never really be they outdoorsy, exercise girl. So making myself get up and get out is where the real challenge will be. It is really about motivation. I almost feel like I should make a reward chart for myself...if I do one hour of exercise, then I get...something. Not sure what, but something.
Anyway, I figure putting this out there keeps me more accountable then I was before. So on to tomorrow and a healthier life!
Cheers,
Heather
It is time for me to get serious again about getting healthy. So to that end, I announce publicly to the world, I will get into better shape! I have set a goal to lose 100 pounds. I realize that a goal of such caliber is daunting, but I know that it will take time. Obviously, the healthiest way to go about this is to be responsible and safe. A goal therefore of 2 pounds a week, according to research, is manageable and will be my aim. I know that at some point I will plateau as I did before. Hopefully, I will be able at that point to push through it and continue on to meet my end goal.
Dieting doesn't work for me. I've tried it. Blech! And truly, my problem is not with food (although I do overindulge in sweets about once a month). However, I will start counting calories again. And most importantly watch my portions. Counting calories and following protion guidelines worked really well last time. As before, I will not deny myself the craving, but I will make sure I take only a small portion as I have found that when I deny myself what I crave I end up binging on it later.
Also, as I did before, I will step on the scale every morning. I know that it isn't recommended, but it worked for me. It was motivational and made me confront my weight every day.
The biggest problem, though, is exercise. I don't. All of the activities I enjoy, reading, crafting, writing, involve sitting. I've never really be they outdoorsy, exercise girl. So making myself get up and get out is where the real challenge will be. It is really about motivation. I almost feel like I should make a reward chart for myself...if I do one hour of exercise, then I get...something. Not sure what, but something.
Anyway, I figure putting this out there keeps me more accountable then I was before. So on to tomorrow and a healthier life!
Cheers,
Heather
Monday, June 28, 2010
Penis in the Sky
I was driving to the zoo today to pick up the girls from their first day of zoo camp when I saw the most fantastic cloud formation ever: a circumcised penis. I only wish I had my camera so I could have snapped a shot and submitted it Accidentaldong.blogspot.com.
This lofty formation made me laugh and I grabbed my cell phone wanting to call someone and tell them about it. Then suddenly, in a moment of odd, quiet reflection, as I stared at my phone, I realized that I didn’t have anyone I could call with that tidbit of hilarity.
Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of friends. Friends that would get a kick out of a cloud shaped penis, but friends who would shake their heads and roll their eyes at my immaturity.
And then I remembered a thought I had as I was driving home from dropping the kids off this morning: I don’t have anyone to go play with. A whole day sans kids and I didn’t have anyone to share it with. So I went home and did laundry and other respectable grown-up things.
Putting the two thoughts together drove me to a third and final thought: being an adult sucks which is why, I think, that I shall never act my age.
Cheers,
Heather
This lofty formation made me laugh and I grabbed my cell phone wanting to call someone and tell them about it. Then suddenly, in a moment of odd, quiet reflection, as I stared at my phone, I realized that I didn’t have anyone I could call with that tidbit of hilarity.
Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of friends. Friends that would get a kick out of a cloud shaped penis, but friends who would shake their heads and roll their eyes at my immaturity.
And then I remembered a thought I had as I was driving home from dropping the kids off this morning: I don’t have anyone to go play with. A whole day sans kids and I didn’t have anyone to share it with. So I went home and did laundry and other respectable grown-up things.
Putting the two thoughts together drove me to a third and final thought: being an adult sucks which is why, I think, that I shall never act my age.
Cheers,
Heather
Thursday, June 24, 2010
It's Like Tom Petty Said
This month marks the tenth anniversary of my move to Florida.
When I first moved down here in 2000 with Ashleigh and Amanda, I told my family that it was not a permanent move. I was going to finish college and return. I didn’t want Ashleigh growing up without my family around and I certainly knew that I was not going to like living in Florida long term- I’m a small town, north-eastern girl at heart and besides, Florida is just too damn hot!
But a strange thing happened. My mom and my sister followed me down. And on the one hand it was good. It was nice to have family around when I was in a pitch. They offered a solid rock I could ground myself to in a jam. But on the other hand, I felt almost obligated to stay. They followed me down here, I thought, and that’s not nothing. So I stayed too.
I took a full-time, permanent job teaching 8th grade. I sunk roots into a house that I thought would be a home. I tried to be a member of a community. I became a Girl Scout leader.
But five years later, the job is still just a job. I’m certainly not passionate about it and it is not something that I see myself doing for the rest of my life. I can teach. I’ve no problem with that. But I’m apathetic about it. I’ve never really cared about it. For me, it’s a paycheck. And if it were any other job I don’t think it would matter as much. But as a teacher? I should be passionate and excited about it. That’s the kind of teacher kids need.
The house is still just a house – one that I wish I could get rid of as it is taking everything we have to keep us afloat. Caught in that stupid bubble, I now have a house worth 60K less than what we purchased it for, so there is not hope of selling it right now. Plus, it takes my entire salary to pay for it, so we have no extra money for anything. Honestly, if I hadn’t been raised with the morals I was, I would have already walked away from it.
I’ve learned, not without some help, that a home isn’t a place. You can’t put “home” on a map. The family is what makes wherever you are a home, be that a mansion, an apartment, an RV, or a cardboard box. It’s the “who” that counts, not the where or what.
I think what it comes down to really is this: A decade is a long time to be in one place. I’ve got this itchiness in my feet. This feeling that I have overstayed my welcome in Florida. What was meant to be a three or four year stint tops, has stretched into this, long inescapable road with no exits. Well, I will not be corralled into a future that isn’t where I want to be. And if I can’t find an exit, well, I guess it is time for me to forge one myself.
And so as Tom Petty sang, “Under my feet, baby, the grass is growing, yeah, its time to move on, time to get going.”
When I first moved down here in 2000 with Ashleigh and Amanda, I told my family that it was not a permanent move. I was going to finish college and return. I didn’t want Ashleigh growing up without my family around and I certainly knew that I was not going to like living in Florida long term- I’m a small town, north-eastern girl at heart and besides, Florida is just too damn hot!
But a strange thing happened. My mom and my sister followed me down. And on the one hand it was good. It was nice to have family around when I was in a pitch. They offered a solid rock I could ground myself to in a jam. But on the other hand, I felt almost obligated to stay. They followed me down here, I thought, and that’s not nothing. So I stayed too.
I took a full-time, permanent job teaching 8th grade. I sunk roots into a house that I thought would be a home. I tried to be a member of a community. I became a Girl Scout leader.
But five years later, the job is still just a job. I’m certainly not passionate about it and it is not something that I see myself doing for the rest of my life. I can teach. I’ve no problem with that. But I’m apathetic about it. I’ve never really cared about it. For me, it’s a paycheck. And if it were any other job I don’t think it would matter as much. But as a teacher? I should be passionate and excited about it. That’s the kind of teacher kids need.
The house is still just a house – one that I wish I could get rid of as it is taking everything we have to keep us afloat. Caught in that stupid bubble, I now have a house worth 60K less than what we purchased it for, so there is not hope of selling it right now. Plus, it takes my entire salary to pay for it, so we have no extra money for anything. Honestly, if I hadn’t been raised with the morals I was, I would have already walked away from it.
I’ve learned, not without some help, that a home isn’t a place. You can’t put “home” on a map. The family is what makes wherever you are a home, be that a mansion, an apartment, an RV, or a cardboard box. It’s the “who” that counts, not the where or what.
I think what it comes down to really is this: A decade is a long time to be in one place. I’ve got this itchiness in my feet. This feeling that I have overstayed my welcome in Florida. What was meant to be a three or four year stint tops, has stretched into this, long inescapable road with no exits. Well, I will not be corralled into a future that isn’t where I want to be. And if I can’t find an exit, well, I guess it is time for me to forge one myself.
And so as Tom Petty sang, “Under my feet, baby, the grass is growing, yeah, its time to move on, time to get going.”
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Blogging Without a Doubt
Why I am not blogging right now?
I could blame my lack of blogging on an extreme schedule of international intrigue or volunteering for the Peace Corp, but after a good few seconds of contemplation, I realized that no one would buy those reasons, so it makes sense to stick with the truth. Except for the fact that I’m not really sure what that is.
I have been busy. That’s true enough. The end of the school year is always packed with craziness that makes it hard for me to focus on anything but the end of the year, but honestly, I didn’t really feel that this year. If anything, I moseyed through it, not even worrying about packing my room, or cleaning. I did it methodically, mechanically. It just was.
Girls Scouts has been taking a huge chunk of my time. Yeah, that’s true as well. But that isn’t something I mind carving time for. I might not “love” being so involved with the Scouts all the time, but the girls love it and therefore I love being a part of that. And if that includes worrying over troop finance and why parents aren’t paying their dues, well, it’s part and parcel.
I’ve been crafty. Hoo Boy is that true!! I was determined to finish a scrapbook about last summer and I did. Of course, I sacrificed sleep and time from other things, but it was totally worth it. I finished a HUGE project! And it turned out really nice, if I say so myself. And scrapbooking is something I really enjoy. But I’ve also been crocheting like mad and working on other minor projects. It’s in my blood, I think, the craftiness I mean. I don’t feel right in my “free” time unless I am working on something (free time here is defined by anytime I am not spending with the girls or at work).
I’ve been reading. And honestly, re-reading. As I’ve gotten older and approaching another birthday I’ve been thinking about more philosophical things…living a good life, being just…the nature of zombies…that sort of thing, so I’ve been indulging in my philosophy books. Currently on my bedside table, The Republic, Brave New World, Sophie’s World, and The Undead and Philosophy.
I want to be able to say that I have been writing, but I can’t. I mean really, I haven’t even blogged (obviously). I haven’t looked at a story since god knows when. I’ve had ideas that I’ve jotted down, snippets of a conversation that some of my characters could have, descriptions of locations and people. But I haven’t written. Not like I should. Not like I need to be doing if I am ever, EVER going to get something published. Not a paragraph…a sentence…a word. I think that upsets me the most. I have these words and don’t use them as I should.
So that brings me to why I really haven’t been blogging. While all of the above keeps me pretty busy, not a single reason given is what keeps my fingers from the keys. So what is?
Fear.
Fear that my words won’t be interesting. Fear that what I have to say is stupid. Fear that what I write about will apply only to me and not matter anywhere else. Fear that I won’t be witty enough. Fear that what I do say might offend someone I care about.
Fear. Old-fashioned, predictable fear. It keeps me doing what I’ve always done because I fear what might happen if I do what I really want to do. And now that I’ve owned up and admitted it loud and clear not just to myself, but to the world, I need to do something about it. So, I will remind myself of my senior quote in my yearbook:
“Why then, the world’s mine oyster, which I with sword will open.” ~ Shakespeare
Granted, today’s meaning has been perverted from the original utterance proclaimed boldly and with a good deal of menace by Pistol to Falstaff in The Merry Wives of Windsor. Either meaning, I would think, serves me well here.
I will boldly go out and hack my way through the world, taking as needed, with steely eyes and a will forged in the bowels of a volcano OR I’ll wander out into a world that is just waiting to reveal its glorious riches to one who seeks them.
But remember, I’m non-confrontational, so if you see me coming, just step to the side a bit. If you don’t mind.
I could blame my lack of blogging on an extreme schedule of international intrigue or volunteering for the Peace Corp, but after a good few seconds of contemplation, I realized that no one would buy those reasons, so it makes sense to stick with the truth. Except for the fact that I’m not really sure what that is.
I have been busy. That’s true enough. The end of the school year is always packed with craziness that makes it hard for me to focus on anything but the end of the year, but honestly, I didn’t really feel that this year. If anything, I moseyed through it, not even worrying about packing my room, or cleaning. I did it methodically, mechanically. It just was.
Girls Scouts has been taking a huge chunk of my time. Yeah, that’s true as well. But that isn’t something I mind carving time for. I might not “love” being so involved with the Scouts all the time, but the girls love it and therefore I love being a part of that. And if that includes worrying over troop finance and why parents aren’t paying their dues, well, it’s part and parcel.
I’ve been crafty. Hoo Boy is that true!! I was determined to finish a scrapbook about last summer and I did. Of course, I sacrificed sleep and time from other things, but it was totally worth it. I finished a HUGE project! And it turned out really nice, if I say so myself. And scrapbooking is something I really enjoy. But I’ve also been crocheting like mad and working on other minor projects. It’s in my blood, I think, the craftiness I mean. I don’t feel right in my “free” time unless I am working on something (free time here is defined by anytime I am not spending with the girls or at work).
I’ve been reading. And honestly, re-reading. As I’ve gotten older and approaching another birthday I’ve been thinking about more philosophical things…living a good life, being just…the nature of zombies…that sort of thing, so I’ve been indulging in my philosophy books. Currently on my bedside table, The Republic, Brave New World, Sophie’s World, and The Undead and Philosophy.
I want to be able to say that I have been writing, but I can’t. I mean really, I haven’t even blogged (obviously). I haven’t looked at a story since god knows when. I’ve had ideas that I’ve jotted down, snippets of a conversation that some of my characters could have, descriptions of locations and people. But I haven’t written. Not like I should. Not like I need to be doing if I am ever, EVER going to get something published. Not a paragraph…a sentence…a word. I think that upsets me the most. I have these words and don’t use them as I should.
So that brings me to why I really haven’t been blogging. While all of the above keeps me pretty busy, not a single reason given is what keeps my fingers from the keys. So what is?
Fear.
Fear that my words won’t be interesting. Fear that what I have to say is stupid. Fear that what I write about will apply only to me and not matter anywhere else. Fear that I won’t be witty enough. Fear that what I do say might offend someone I care about.
Fear. Old-fashioned, predictable fear. It keeps me doing what I’ve always done because I fear what might happen if I do what I really want to do. And now that I’ve owned up and admitted it loud and clear not just to myself, but to the world, I need to do something about it. So, I will remind myself of my senior quote in my yearbook:
“Why then, the world’s mine oyster, which I with sword will open.” ~ Shakespeare
Granted, today’s meaning has been perverted from the original utterance proclaimed boldly and with a good deal of menace by Pistol to Falstaff in The Merry Wives of Windsor. Either meaning, I would think, serves me well here.
I will boldly go out and hack my way through the world, taking as needed, with steely eyes and a will forged in the bowels of a volcano OR I’ll wander out into a world that is just waiting to reveal its glorious riches to one who seeks them.
But remember, I’m non-confrontational, so if you see me coming, just step to the side a bit. If you don’t mind.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Untitled - March 22
Death is never an easy thing to deal with, but I imagine that it is easier to accept when a person has lived a full life or spent a long time fighting an illness. But the death of a young person…I can’t even imagine it. And yet today, I faced it.
One of my former students was shot in a drive-by on Saturday. Out for a drive with her sister and cousin…In the wrong place at the wrong time…
She was 16.
She was one of the truly nice students I have had the pleasure of teaching over the years. She was a sweet girl, friendly and outgoing.
To her family, my heart and thoughts go out to you.
One of my former students was shot in a drive-by on Saturday. Out for a drive with her sister and cousin…In the wrong place at the wrong time…
She was 16.
She was one of the truly nice students I have had the pleasure of teaching over the years. She was a sweet girl, friendly and outgoing.
To her family, my heart and thoughts go out to you.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Weekly Wrap Up
I had great intentions for this weekend. Then again, don't I always have "big" intentions on the weekends? There was a birthday party. The library. Cleaning. OMG! Laundry! But between picking up whatever Cyra had last week and feeling "yicky" on top of that, I accomplished just about nothing! But that's okay, because as Zoe demonstrated when you nap, you really don't care what's going on around you.
I did manage the library yesterday, but only because our books were due and then because I was in a rush to get out and get home, I ended up grabbing books that I had already read.
The weather today certainly didn't encourage me to do anything either. I couldn't send the girls out to play and so all throughout the day I heard a chorus of "I'm bored!" and "There's nothing to do!" Ahh! Such familiar phrases and after a while when Scott got sick of me and told me to stop whining, I settled in on the couch with some crochet and Firefly. I got through six episodes (including the pilot) and I almost finished a dall scarf for Cyra's American Girl. When this one is finished, I'll work one for Ashleigh's doll.
The girls on the other hand slunk upstairs and played. Except that really, Ashleigh played on her computer and Cyra, a girl after my own heart, napped her boredom away. Exactly what one always wants to do on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
The sun finally makes its appearance at the end of the day.
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