Time Sure Flies...

Time flies, right?

Like...I remember my mother sitting across the hospital room from me, holding my daughter.  And she was all, "Before you know it, we'll be sitting at her high school graduation."

Thanks, mom.  Because this:

Selfishly speaking, I've had a great senior year.  Well.  It's technically her senior year.  But, you know what I'm saying ;)

I've thoroughly enjoyed watching how each of her teachers has helped her to grow this year.  The college visits have been SO much fun, primarily because my husband is such a fish out of water!  He did not have the opportunity to attend college, so his excitement at the novelty of it all was awfully cute!  He had the tendency to focus on the landscape, the number of electrical outlets in the dorm room, as well as the quality and selection of the free food in the cafeterias.  So he was all:

I did have the blessing of attending college.  Unfortunately, my college experience could be entitled "A Series of Unfortunate Events".  I did come away with some wonderful friendships, which I still hold dear today.  I also have a degree, which was the entire point!  But, due to the many negative experiences, I was very critical of the campuses we visited.  While my husband focused on the food in the cafeteria, I listened to the students.  While he sampled the pizza, I walked aimlessly through the aisles with the highest concentration of students, eavesdropping on their casual, unsuspecting musings.  Having to use the restroom no less than twice an hour afforded me the ability to overhear conversations taking place.  This helped me gain an overall understanding of the campus and whether or not it would - in any way - resemble the college I went to.  In one case, it was quite identical in appeal.  So we left.  Quickly.

(as quickly as I could go, which wasn't very)

Speaking of me, as if we kinda already weren't, MS has been quite argumentative over the past...oh I dunno...handful of months?  Quite.  Though with all of the senior year festivities, I haven't really had the time to worry or feel sad over it.  I guess that's why I can easily make the joke about this year being good for me as well.  Because come on!  It has been!

It goes without saying that we're incredibly proud of our baby girl.  We can't understand where the time has gone, only that it's been amazing year after year.  I continue to aspire to be like her when I grow up, though I don't imagine that happening anytime soon.  And her aspirations, you may wonder?  To cure autoimmune disease.

I introduce you to the next Biochemistry and Molecular Biology (BCMB) major with a passion for autoimmune research:

This passion to cure autoimmune disease is not just for us, but also for herself.  She was diagnosed two years ago with Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis in the form of enthesitis, which seemed to set into her knees and hang there, predominantly.  Despite intense therapies, she was not able to continue her running career.  The condition has worsened since dx and has set in not-so-nicely within her back and hips.  The NSAIDs proved too harsh.  The other meds that were offered had side effects more frightening than the pain.  I'm in the process of researching the top doctors on this side of the country to see if there may be some form of new treatments available to help her.  I wouldn't mind the drive out to the Cleveland Clinic again, as I did for my second opinion.  I just don't want the doctor to say, "Oh you go to Dr. 'so-and-so'?  She was my mentor!"  Note to self:  Do not drive 7hrs to the student of the doctor you already have.  Anyway, that's my most recent focus.  Which is why I don't have time to worry about things like stabbing pains, fatigue, numb feet, walking into stuff, hand tremors, and where I may or may not have put my keys or parked my car.

I have this guy to keep track of the last two:

Well.  At least until he goes to college.  At that point?  I'll be in the parking lot holding my key in the air, pushing the red button until my car answers...

I'm so incredibly grateful for the blessing of my kids.  I can't wait to see what God has in store for them!  They have gone about their days, year after year, in humble service to this household.  They have seen the good, bad, and the definite ugly of MS.  This is their time to shine and step out into God's will.  It's exciting!  And maybe a little sad in a "where in the actual heck did the time go?" way.  But exciting wins!  Every time :)

Also every time?  The "serious selfies" that my daughter and I try and fail at.

Whew.  Almost got a little teary there...saved it!


Be well, friends!

Eggs

I don't have a clever title for this post, so...

It's really a beautiful gesture when someone offers to join me in my weekly grocery shopping.  I use the term "weekly" lightly, because we all know it turns into something that looks a little more like "thrice weekly".

Grocery lists be forgotten on the counter like...

Today, my daughter decided to join me.  My baby girl of nearly 18 :')  Anyway, I can't talk about that.  If I don't talk about it, I don't have to acknowledge it, right?  Moving on.

You may recall that I only use the little cart, on account of how I get dizzy about halfway through my excursion?  And, if I try to use the big cart, I risk knocking entire end cap displays over?  Okay, great.  You're up to speed.  So picture me strolling up and down each aisle, beautiful child trailing behind with little cart, watching in awe at all that is "mom carefully stacking tons of things into little cart to the point where it has lost the capacity to steer".  She asked me no less than 4x if we needed the big cart.

"NO!", said I!

Finally, about 6 aisles into the madness, she changed her language.

"Should I get another little cart?"

Comparing the remainder of my lengthy list to the rapidly declining condition of the little cart she was attempting to maneuver, I quickly surrendered.

"Sure.  If you really think we need it..."

As I waited for my daughter to jog to the front of the store to obtain a new little cart, I studied the next item on my list.  Eggs.  I began to question myself.  Can I get away with *not* eggs?  I mean, I like eggs.  I have them every morning with my gluten free, orange marmalade slathered toast and medium roast black coffee.  But I don't have a good history in actually purchasing eggs.  Or bringing them store to fridge, at least.

I drop them.  Or I drop them.  Sometimes, I even drop them.  One time?  I had a "temper temper" moment in my driveway, which resulted in clenching my fist into a powerful ball of hate and hauling off with a mighty jab, right into a grocery bag I was holding.  Inside?  Eggs.  Who punches eggs in the face?  No one, that's who.  Guys, I don't remember what caused me to flip out, but whatever it was?  Sure made a mess.

Eggs.

Anyway, back to the store experience.  Along came my beautiful, sensible, mild mannered, would-never-punch-an-egg-in-the-face child with the second cart.  She began to distribute the heavy load from one to the other as I went toward the eggs.  I approached them as if I was on a tactical team.  Thinking it through, carefully peeking under the flimsy lid to verify the integrity of the 18 pack.  Everything seemed in order.  I gently lifted it from the stack with both hands, so as not to risk an untimely hand tremor, and lowered them onto the topmost area of what was now my little cart.

I know what you're thinking.  What about checkout?

Flawless, thanks ;)

Our bagger was so courteous as to say, "I put the eggs and bread on top".

"Fantastic, thanks!", I excitedly exclaimed!  But I actually wasn't paying much attention, because I was trying to work the tiny computerized version of hell that is the credit/debit card reader.

Can someone design a universal one of those?  Preferably one with less questions.

As my daughter and I were walking out, we were laughing and joking about all sorts of fun things.  We were carefree.  Joyful.  Dare I say jovial.  We were also pressed for time, since she was due to begin her shift in short order.  So I said, "let's throw these groceries in the car and get you home!"

You already see it, don't you...

We victoriously scaled over the bumpy, raised plastic ramp (that reminds me a little too much of rumble strips and I question the reasoning behind them) without losing a bag.  I opened the liftgate of my car, picked up the first bag I came across and humorously called out, "weeeeeeeeeeee!" as I lofted it into the hatch.  I realized it was the eggs as it landed upside down with a :::crack:::

OMG.  Are you kidding me?  I didn't just...

You guys, I laughed so. hard. that my legs gave out.  There I was, the entire top of my body laying in the hatch of my car, screaming in laughter, with my daughter yelling, "REALLY???  REALLY!!!  THE EGGS!  YOU THREW THE EGGS???"

Pretty sure I'll be shopping alone, or with my son, from here on...

It's Been Awhile - a story about how I ain't got time for MS

I was reminded that...it's been awhile since I've written a post.

If that Staind song is now playing in your head, you're welcome.

So what happened was...one day, I picked my son up after a soccer game.  When he couldn't produce an answer to my typically elated "how was the game!" inquiry, I realized something was askew.  What, you ask?  Well, he took a ball to the head and couldn't quite fill in the details.  Annnd so we went to urgent care.

Proper use of blanket - affected

He was dx'd with a concussion.  Which is his 2nd one.  Honestly, it's probably his 3rd concussion, but the "first first" one didn't require more than some advil and rest.  It wasn't officially dx'd.  I can't leave out the fact that he's already gone through years of therapies to overcome a brain injury he sustained as a toddler.  And, like his mother, he's a migraineur.  Which makes brain stuff worse.  So. Yeah.

That blanket covered evening was about 3 months ago.  Since then, he's been to an extensive number of medical and therapist appointments.  A couple of weeks ago, he even had a fun little trip to the ER after a particularly concerning day in which he had become extremely confused and complained of a very localized, severe pain in his head.  CT negative, praise God.  Also praising God that there weren't any speed traps along the way as I was driving to the hospital, because that would have added even more dollars to this injury's bottom line.  

People ask if he's getting better.  I really don't know how to answer that, because it's so variable.  Over the course of a single day, his struggles vary from pain to dizziness to irritability to anxiety to visual disturbance and back to pain.  All the while?  He looks completely fine.  And that makes it a little more challenging.

We "invisible symptoms" folk know a thing or two about that...

I've stood by the mantra that none of this is about me.  But this is my blog - my outlet - and so I might just allow myself to take a moment to let it be.

It's been incredibly challenging to get him where he needs to be...when he needs to be...and be where I need to be...when I need to be.  The appointments and meetings feel quite constant.  Because they kind of are.  But I realized something the other day, as I was sitting in the quiet confines of my window tinted car (because my car is my cloaking device), with my eyes closed (because I was too tired to even "look"), quietly thinking to the Lord (because He hears me no matter what), explaining to Him that I was just...like...this whole thing just...UGH!  I feel so frustrated.  Angry.  Exhausted.  Angry.  Spent.  And let's not forget angry.  Then, angry toward my poor husband, because he's not angry.  Sure, he cares and loves his son.  But he's not angry.  Which makes me angry.  Because seriously?  WHAT is broken in me??

WHY can't we all just agree to be angry on this???

Ohhhhh temper temper, there you are again ;)

I realized - or at least that moment of emotional spewing to the Lord under cover of my cloaking device helped me to see - that part of my intense anger stems from the fact that it's kinda close to home.  I get it.  I get the games he has to play as he navigates through this.  Some of you may also know these games.  They're entitled:

The "Let me put on my happy face and pretend that I'm okay, but I'm so not" game.
The "I can't think straight, but I don't want anyone to know it" game.
The "I'll do those tasks now, because I'm not able to do these tasks" game.
The "I'm kinda worried that I can't do those tasks now...am I okay?" game.  
The "I can't see right and it's freaking me out" game.
The "What's that weird sound in my ear?" game.
The "Is this going to get better, or is it my new normal?" game.
The "No one understands me" game.
The "I just want to be alone" game.
The "I just want someone to reach out to me" game.
The "Nevermind, I guess I really do just want to be alone" game.

There are more, but...

So yeah.  That's what's been going on.  Handling lots of medical matters.  Managing life.  Or trying to.  And being angry.  But trying to hand that over to the Lord.  Truth be told, I'm pretty bad at handing things over.  Work in progress, right?

There are plenty of amazing things that have been and are happening throughout these months that I can focus on.  He has an incredible group of teachers coming to our home to teach him, since he cannot attend school for more than about an hour.  He's able to retain much of what they're teaching him, which is huge!  I've had some help in the way of rides for him and for our daughter, who also has places she needs to be.  He has a friend who reaches out at just the right times to check in on him, which is so helpful in keeping him connected.  He's been open and honest about struggles with panic attacks and I have been able to be with him in support. And surprisingly?  We've paid all but one of the many thousands of dollars in medical bills.  That was the hospital bill, so that's gonna be A. LOT. OF. COFFEES.

There.  I've appropriately ended on a positive note :)

IjustreallydonothavetimeforMSrightnowlikeseriously......................


Wishing you all wellness and happiness and blessings and things that are not anger!  Be well, friends!

Coffee Haitus...Let The Morning Mourning Begin

I'm coming off of a month-long virus, which has left me with a nifty souvenir called "laryngopharyngeal reflux".  This new foe doesn't travel alone.  It brings its cousin, laryngospasm.  And that only comes around at night, about an hour after I've fallen into a beautiful, sound sleep.  When I woke up with it the first time, unable to get air and nearly passing out, I didn't know what was going on.  Once I figured out that the best thing to do is everything I didn't do the first time, (like panic and try to breathe in as hard as I possibly could through my mouth, which only closes the throat even more and starts shutting the lights out) I'm finding that I'm able to combat it and stop the spasms in under 2 mins.  Which is good, because my son has finally stopped sleeping with the phone next to him, feeling as if he has to call an ambulance.

It's ironic how the tides have turned over the course of 16yrs.  I used to sleep on his floor, listening for any breathing issues or cries.  He slept in an upright car seat, well into toddlerhood, due to terrible reflux.  It would wake him throughout the night.  I would hear him stir, get into his line of sight, he would spot me, reach out, and I would be there.  Fast forward...I wake up with stridor, look out across the room, and there he is.

LPR.  Laryngospasm.  Legit stuff.  Stuff I gotta get rid of.

Reflux is no stranger of mine.  About 9.5yrs ago, I was hospitalized with bleeding ulcers and reflux.  It took a very long time to heal, but the purple pill + an H2 blocker + a super bland diet brought me back to my preferred salsa and peppers again.  The difference from 2006 to now is...I have discovered numerous issues I have with foods.

Apparently, the Reflux Diet of 2015 does not jive with me and my food situation.  Nor does it allow for my addiction...coffee:

So what's a girl to do?  A girl who loves coffee the way I do?  Who thinks about it as soon as her eyes open in the morning?  Who looks forward to it as she's falling asleep at night?

She gets up and paces the house, that's what.  She reads through the papers over and over again, trying to find the coffee loophole.  But there isn't one.  Not at all.

Instead, the papers suggest things such as wearing loose fitting clothing (wonder if pajamas are suitable work attire?), eating several small meals throughout the day (which I already do, since I'm in the habit from '06 reflux and also have low blood sugar), to exercise 3 to 4 times per week (which my legs have been arguing with me about), and to stop smoking (which I don't do).

Work with me, papers.  Please.

I read and read and read...and cleared my throat and coughed and felt pretty gross on the whole, just as I've been for a week or so with this.  Exercise kept jumping out at me from the paper.  My legs have been incredibly stiff, but the intense anger I felt when my poor husband casually appeared from the kitchen to say, "Hey...you didn't make the coffee today?" was enough to send me right out the door.  Because the anger was bringing out my "temper temper" reminder.

I jammed my earphones into my unsuspecting ears, tried to stretch my legs as best as possible, and set out down the driveway for a walk.  About a mile into my let's-get-a-handle-on-our-anger walk (didn't think I could go nearly that far!), I realized that I couldn't stop thinking about the coffee I wasn't having today.  I couldn't sit and watch my husband drink his coffee, because I would want to knock it from his hand.  Instead, here I was...out on a painful, stiff, twitchie trek at 7am, sweaty and punchy and angry.  And then this song came on my iThingie, which was affixed to my hat, like old times:





Can I share the fact that I likened this entire song to coffee?  Is this a "sorry not sorry" thing?  I think yes.  Admittedly, I never really listened to the lyrics.  I have tons of dance music on my iThingie.  But this?  This speaks to me in this caffeine-free moment.  

The taste.  The smell.  The cognition it provides.  Without it, I cannot structure priorities.  Without it, I can barely put my shoes on the right feet.  I have a huge project coming up in about 2 weeks that I'm already nervous about if I can't have my coffee.  I have to work hard at bouncing back by following this stupid diet with this stupid menu and these stupid suggestions...so that I can get back to my coffee.

If you're still reading, I'm sorry.  I can't even organize my thoughts at this point.  All I can do is hit "publish" and hope for the best, because the thought of proofreading is exhausting me.  Come on, purple pill.  You did this for me once!  I know you can do it again.  Get me back to health.  Back to a place where my throat isn't all jacked up.  Back to the times when I could sleep without waking up choking.  Get me there...so I can be here:

"My love for you.  No one else will do."  Especially not you, green tea.

Anxiety Got Me Like... (A story about an upcoming road trip)

That awkward moment when you sit and stare at the blank blog page in front of you, your mind spins in 182 different directions (give or take) and you can't even get your first sentence out.

There.  Now that that's outta the way...

So my son has been invited by a college to visit a preview day.  That happens all the time, right?  Colleges send stuff out in masses to high schoolers, us parents take a peek and toss the marketing media into the recycling bin.  Or is that just me?  Anyway, this was different.  My son has never received anything before, because he's only going into his sophomore year.  To make the receipt of this information even more special is that it was an actual letter.  Addressed to him.  From a school that specializes in his particular passion.  Located in the very city he has his heart and mind set on.  You guys, if you could have seen his face upon reading this letter and accompanying brochure.  Wow-just-wow.  I knew then and there I had to make this visit happen for him.  Before I allowed myself to think too much, I did this stuff...

I told God I felt a little crazy, but I was going to go ahead with this.
I submitted a time off request for work.
I registered him for the event.
I told my son he was going.
I held back tears when I saw his priceless reaction of "REALLY, MOM!?!?!"
I yelled back "REALLY!!!"
And then I started thinking.

Bad move.

As I began to map the drive out, my thoughts immediately began to consider ms.  With a bladder that wishes to empty on a 45-60min 'sitting' schedule, that's 3-4 stops.  Got it!  But wait.  This is a big city, which means big traffic...not the sort we're used to out here.  After consulting family members, I decided to take their advice and book a hotel room near to the city, yet out far enough in "Bumpkinland" for me to feel comfy.  It reduces my drive the morning of.  But wait, the next wave of mailings say that parking on campus is discouraged and to take the bus, then a cab.

Okay no.

"If you do wish to park on campus..." (yes, go on) "please consult the enclosed campus map and driving directions.  The enclosed parking permit will be required for use."

Okay good.

But wait.  Let's take a look at this place on the google map.  Why is everything a one way street?  What's the name of that building?  It's blurry in the street level view, but it sure doesn't look like the name they're citing on this brochure.  Great.  Google map is probably wrong.  I can't tell.  Is that seriously where I'm supposed to park?  And is it one of those parking garages that leaves 2" in between cars or am I going to be able to pull in and actually get out without climbing through the back hatch?  (I've had to do that before, people)  How far is the walk from the parking garage to where we check in?  This day runs from 8:30-4:30.  How much walking is that going to be and are there bathrooms all along the way?  Because I'm on like an 'every 10min of walking' bladder schedule.  The date of this thing is awful close to when I've been getting those wicked cluster headaches for the past 3 months.  If I get one of those while I'm down there, I won't be able to do the tour without throwing up.  That would be a great first impression.  This brochure says you can call ahead for accommodations if you have a disability.  I wonder what accommodations those would be?  Like if I get a headache, will they give me a bucket to walk around with?  Would they come pick me up from the parking garage after I crawl and roll out of the hatch of my car on a golf cart and drive me behind the group as if I were in a parade?  Or can I just send my son off with a group and wait in a coffee shop as an accommodation?  Nice and close to a restroom at all times.  It's been taking me no less than 5 minutes to go.  I can't let my shy bladder get in the way of this opportunity for him.  Tour guide be all, "We've lost a guest."  Son be all, "That's my mom, she has ms.  She pees often and for long periods of time.  Carry on."  Speaking of lost, what if I get lost driving from the hotel to the college?  What if he's late? What if I have to go to the bathroom and I'm stuck in traffic and can't?  What if I get lost, after being stuck in traffic, having to pee, with a cluster headache???????

If you read that entire last paragraph as fast as you can, you will have a glimpse into my mind at 3:28am this morning.  At 4-something-am yesterday morning.  And at 2-something-am the morning before.

Why is it so easy for me to not worry about the matter of "how will this education be paid for"?  I'm not at all concerned with that, just as I'm not concerned with how my daughter will attend the college she has her heart set on.  I have the full understanding, peace, and confidence that, if it's what God would have for my kids, He will provide the opportunities to earn the tuition.  When it comes to the part about my role in simply getting my kids to these places?  Commence freak show.  And yes, I have a prescription?  But I'm too afraid to take the pills.  No, really.  If I told you just half of the reactions I've had from meds, you'd understand.

This morning's early wake up call from anxiety brought me straight to the coffee maker.  As I sighed, turned on the computer, and clicked on my radio station, the song "Greatness of Our God" was playing.  And this song?  Happens to speak to everything I've been feeling.  As I was quietly sipping coffee and singing lyrics, I was like...oh.

Give me eyes to see
More of who You are
May what I behold,
Still my anxious heart.
Take what I have known
And break it all apart
For You my God, are greater still.

Thanks, Lord.  I'll try to stop spinning in my crazy, ms-fueled, worrisome thoughts.  Keyword:  Try.

I'll try to enjoy these moments for what they are...the very opportunities that God provides.  I'll try not to let this stupid disease steal my joy and peace.  I want my life to be about being a mother, not a mother with ms.  Just a mother :)

I'm Already Up Coughing...May As Well Write! (A story about bruises and college and second chances)

To paint the picture...

If you had the misfortune to see me in my entirety, you'd find that I'm more bruises than not.  I've been coughing for about a week, which has done the whole "hey let's inflame everything in her rib cage" deal.  I have some bruising in that area.  In addition, I fell down the stairs earlier this week.  The big ones, not the smaller staircase, because I go big or go home!  Lots of scrapes and bruises to note.  At least my arm is at the purple phase, which we all know means "almost healed".

And sleep?  That's pretty tough.  Between coughing (which brings about the bladder's response) and all over pain from all the bruises, sleep is hard to come by.  You know it's a rough spell when laying still is painful.  

But I don't have time for sleep, you see!  I'm too excited about stuff and being all reflective-like ;)

In just 3 more hours of coughing, my daughter will be checking in to a summer scholars program at a university!  Not just any university, but the one she has her heart set on.  This program is such an exciting opportunity for her, as it speaks directly to her favorite things:  Writing, literature, and God.  She worked hard to get into the program, then worked equally hard to pay for it.  I really can't describe how proud we are of her, as well as how excited we are for her!  The opportunity to attend this program...centered around the things she loves...at the school she wants to attend.  Like seriously.  It doesn't get any better.

Wait.  It does, actually.

Speaking of God...

I can't help but feel like this day is a 2nd chance of sorts.  See, back in 1990, my mom took a very anxious me to college.  That awkward struggle of carrying suitcases to the front desk in order to find out where your room is.  The awkward social moment when you walk into that room, bright eyed and bushy tailed, hoping to be met with the friendly face of a person you would be living with for the next year.  Instead, my bright eyed/bushy tailed self was met with a look of annoyance and borderline disgust.  My roommate was a sophomore who made it plain knowledge that she didn't want to room with a freshman.  Meanwhile, there stood my mom, bags in hands, awkward smile on her face.  She showed such kindness to this girl in trying to strike up friendly conversation, offering to rent a refrigerator for us to share.  The roommate rolled her eyes and said she didn't need one.

What wasn't needed?  Was my mom receiving attitude.  But I let that go.

As the weeks went by, the roommate's plan to make my life hell and push me out of the room became more and more apparent.  I tried to reason with her.  Tried to compromise.  Tried to be kind.  Alas, she continued her blatant antics, which escalated tremendously over the course of however long it was until my reasoning turned into...temper temper.  I'll skip the full details, because they're not important, right?  The story ends with me being thrown out of the dorm.

Though I still stand by my actions (one of those "sorry not sorry" moments before that was an actual thing), the part I always wished I could have a redo on was the awkward drop off moment with mom.

Fast forward to present day...

In God's goodness, He brings it all full circle.  This time, I will get to be that mom, dropping her daughter off at college with bursting suitcases (for like, 9 days' worth of classes, but still).  And who will one of the family members standing there with me be?  My mom.  That's pretty neat :)

Scripture says it best:  "See, I am doing a new thing.  Now it springs up.  Do you not see it?  I am making a way..."

Bruises and coughing and lack of sleep can't put a damper on this moment.  The bladder can, but I'm going to try not to think about that.

Oh great.  Now I'm thinking about that.

As I prepare to watch the sun come up over a cup of coffee, I can't help but think back to my college years.  After all, they were some of the most painful times in my life.  Things that go way beyond being expelled from a dorm in my first year.  Now that my kids are looking at schools, I find myself asking God to give them...better.  I don't know exactly what to ask for, just what to ask to "not", if that makes any sense.  I know He has it.  He hears me and translates the mess.

Speaking of messes...c'mon, bladder...work with me today...we got this ;)

Ah yes.  Time to enjoy this coffee and remember to take the stairs nice and slooooooow...

When MS Sends You Home From Work...Unexpectedly

MS and I have a pretty good working relationship.  After all these years, it seems that we have an understanding.  And my working conditions are fabulously geared toward compromise.

For example, if ms decides my eyes shall not clearly distinguish the contrast of the font on my computer monitors, I can shut the lights off in my office, which allows me to read my screens with ease.  Well, aside from the black floaties in my right eye.  But still, I'm able to read.

If my hearing is buzzing in and out in my left ear, I can turn music on to overshadow the bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.  If my hearing is ultra sensitive, which it usually is, I can turn music on to drown out the sudden noises that take place outside of my office, or knocks on my door.  If my brain is moving like a pinball that's just been shot out of the hatch, I can turn music on to distract it.  Bottom line?  Music is on.  And, since I'm in the room alone, it isn't an imposition to anyone else.  Win/win.

If I'm feeling stiff/sore from sitting too long, I can stand and type.  I have a window I can stretch in front of and stare up at the beautiful sky from.  God bless those who may be walking by as this is taking place.  I can also take a short break to go outside the building and walk around a bit.  That often helps to loosen my legs and refresh my brain.  Again, win/win.

If my feet are tingling and my shoes are strangling them, I can slip those shoes off and hide them under my desk for quick replacement in the event that someone needs to stop by to see me.

I have plenty of space to store my water, Pepsi, almonds, sunflower seeds, etc.

I work as quickly as my brain goes (200mph) and thoroughly enjoy being able to go at my own (ludicrous speed) pace.  Yes, that was a shameless Spaceballs reference.

And?  I have sick time.  Ya know, for when ms decides it shan't work with me.

Today is that day.

Folks needed to do some construction work in close proximity to my office.  The thumping and banging set into my feet.  More banging.  Thumping.  Bumping.  Then lots and lots of banging.  I was vibrating from feet to face.  More and more banging, bumping, thumping.  The vibrations morphed into the sensation of barbed wire, wrapping around my arms, legs, and feet, squeezing.

Ouch.

That ouch became a serious ouch, which became a concession.  It was time for?

(drum roll) 

Sick time.

Fast forwarding to laying as still as possible here at home...with a soft and fluffy kitty cat...who's kinda really good at knowing when I need her to be a nice kitty...the barbed wire is loosening a little...into a mix of sharpness and vibrations...instead of just squeezing stabbies...which, to me, means it's improving.

Today may have been your day, ms.  But?  Tomorrow shall be mine.  Because that's how we do.  We compromise like that ;)


Speaking of compromise, I sent a note to the cute guy with the fancy hat in that picture below to let him know I was on my way home for an ms sick day.  You see, he's the ultimate provider and protector.  And when he loves you?  Really, really loves you?  As he loves this family, and maybe like...2 other people?  He'll move mountains for you.  Tonight, he'll be moving the mountains of laundry baskets around.  Because if he doesn't, he won't have stuff to wear to work tomorrow.  And one of us has to make it through a full work week, right?