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May 22, 2013

not as planned

Well, this week is going much differently than I had planned. Where to start? I feel like no matter where I start, it’ll be in the middle.

So, let’s go back a few weeks. Dad was becoming increasingly uncooperative at the nursing home – and I feel like it’s worse after I’ve been there. Maybe seeing me makes him more unhappy about not being at home? At any rate, the nursing home decided to send him to another senior psychiatric program, this time in Fayetteville. That’s a little far for me to travel plus there’s the drugs. So I did my communicating by phone. They told me that Dad was cooperative and pleasant and they changed his antidepressant and sent him back to Red Rose. He apparently did well on the trip back this time and the staff told me he was being cooperative and pleasant. The psychologist likes him.

But, when I saw him on Friday he was really confused. They moved him out on the open hall when he got back and he didn’t know where his room was. He told me that he’d had a good day, he fixed their computers (by replacing some diodes). He also said that Mom had been in the hospital for a week and a half and he didn’t know how she was doing. Oh, and that he has a girlfriend and is worried about what Mom will think. The psychologist told me how great he was to work with but that he had bopped a female resident on the head. She said that he knew it was wrong. Then the social worker told me that he had grabbed another resident on the arm in an aggressive manner that morning.

Okay, then after I got home, the nursing home called me and told me that Dad had been found wandering around in the parking lot in his wheelchair. At least he hadn’t rolled down the hill into the street or ditch. But he’s not safe on the open hall so they’ve moved him back onto the locked hall. Okay, but then Saturday they called and hoped that I could come because Dad was having a bit of a temper tantrum, banging on the door and insisting that he was in the wrong room. He’s been moved around a lot between hospitals and rooms at the nursing home and he’s really confused. And he’s getting worse.

But, I couldn’t go. Partly because of the Neurontin. And partly because I was getting sick. I just hoped to make it until Monday until I could either convince the doctor to give me antibiotics or go in to the office to get them. It’s bronchitis. I know bronchitis and I know when I’ve reached the point that I need antibiotics. I’m half way through a Z-pack and improving (even though I suspect it’s actually bronchial pneumonia). Give me a few more days to see how much I’ve improved and possibly I’ll have to go back and actually see the doctor. I’m much more upright today. I’ve been sleeping about an hour and being up for about an hour since Saturday and I actually got pretty decent sleep last night. Still breathless when I move however.

So, I’m keeping in touch with the nursing home by phone. And canceling my appointments for this week. And mostly I’m living in my pajamas again. Going to shower soon. Woo hoo. Go me.

1 Comment

Filed under Alzheimer's and Dementia, Quickie

May 17, 2013

you’ve got to be kidding me

Today’s D-Blog Week prompt is: “If you could switch chronic diseases, which one would you choose to deal with instead of diabetes? And while we’re considering other chronic conditions, do you think your participation in the DOC has affected how you treat friends and acquaintances with other medical conditions?”

I’ve recently gotten back to going to visit the shrink. This is a good thing because it means that I’m addressing the stuff going on in my head and not just reacting to the stress around me. This is a bad thing because it means I’m living more in my head and I was already doing that. Balance. It will come.

But one of the things we were talking about yesterday was looking at depression as a chronic condition, like diabetes. And it’s true. I’ve been dealing with depression for most of my life, sometimes as background noise and once in a while as something more severe. The past ten years it’s been somewhat unrelenting and I forget that it hasn’t always been like that. Probably it hasn’t even been totally unrelenting the whole past ten years, it just feels that way since when I’m in the middle of it, it seems like it has always been this way.

It is a lot like diabetes. I wish I didn’t have to deal with it every day. I wish I didn’t have to do the things I need to do to manage the depression – just like I wish I didn’t have to take shots and manage my diet, etc. There is not an endpoint. That’s kind of what chronic means.

Do I wish I could switch chronic conditions? To what? Please forgive this list, I feel like I’m a whiny old lady. I’ve got diabetes, depression, an arrhythmia, pain, insomnia and stress. But as far as I’m concerned, there are far worse things to deal with.

I heard, a long time ago, that most of us, if we were to walk into a room and were able to put our own problems on a table and pick up someone else’s instead – we would likely go home with our own problems. Depression? Diabetes? These are not fun problems. They are hard. They are tiring to deal with all the time. There is no endpoint. They don’t go away and there is no real cure on the near horizon. But I know how to deal with them. And they are not one of the far worse (in my opinion) chronic diseases out there.

I am grateful that the things I have to deal with are conditions that can be managed. I have the tools to manage them and while it would be nice to not have to, don’t we all have crap we deal with? It may not be depression or diabetes – hell, it may not be medical. But we all have crap we deal with. And I’m glad the crap I have are things that can be dealt with.

Yesterday, Ally Bean wrote a post called Things I Love. It’s easy to get wrapped up inside my head with all the little things. All the daily, coping with the crap things. It’s hard, sometimes, to remember the things I love. And it’s hard, since I am living in my head, to reach the stream of consciousness part where I’m not judging my list as I write it. But I’m going to try.

I love a beautiful, sunny day with blue skies and little puffy clouds. The first flowers of spring, suddenly popping up when all around them is still dry and brown. I love creamy yellow butter melting on freshly baked homemade bread. I love the pop of sweet, juicy flavor when I bite into one of my favorite tiny yellow sunsweet tomatoes. I love the feel of soft, warm cotton sheets. I love to laugh, especially when it’s unexpected and just bursts out from the gut. I love a rainy day, sometimes at least, the kind of day where you curl up with a good book and a soft blanket. I love getting lost in a book, caring for the people in the story and crying at the sad moments. I love an unexpected smile from a stranger. And chocolate, the way it melts on my tongue.

There are a lot of things I love. Things I enjoy. Diabetes and depression doesn’t take away from that. I just need to remember.

6 Comments

Filed under Daily Gratitude, Depression, Diabetes

May 15, 2013

memories

Today we’re going to share our most memorable diabetes day. You can take this anywhere…. your or your loved one’s diagnosis, a bad low, a bad high, a big success, any day that you’d like to share. (Thanks to Jasmine of Silver-Lined for this topic suggestion.)

Most memorable day, huh?

April 2000. The turn of the century. What an exciting time! For the first time, I managed to get myself together and do the blood draw for the spring health fair. And there was a snowstorm the day of the fair but that was before my fear of snow. I had a Jeep Cherokee and I had a blast breaking through 3 foot drifts getting to the main road.

And when I got there, I picked up all kinds of chotchkies. You know the sort. Stress balls, pens, and magnets. Oh, a side note. I got my blood typed and tested A-. Since I had previously tested A+ I thought that was weird and learned that it’s totally possible to test as either rh+ or rh- at different times. At least for some of us. Anyway, I finally got to the table with the blood test results.

Fasting blood glucose: 250

I knew what it meant but I didn’t get the official diagnosis till Monday. But I knew and I consider that Saturday my official diagnosis day.

April 1, 2000.

3 Comments

Filed under Diabetes

May 14, 2013

calculated error

This post is about life on Neurontin. Think of it as a niche post which is not going to interest everyone. Does anything I write interest everyone? In the past week we have had depression, diabetes and pain control. That’s a lot of niches.

The end of last week I had had enough of sleeping all day from the Neurontin (gabapentin) and called my doctor’s office to get the dose reduced. I couldn’t cut the 400 mg capsules in half so she gave me 100 mg capsules which, I hope, she intended for me to play around with to get the dose v. pain balanced. Perhaps even to get back to the 400 mg capsules eventually.

400 mg twice per day (never made it to three times per day) did a good job alleviating pain but made me sleep. At least it didn’t cause vertigo like the Lyrica. 100 mg three times per day — well, I was still sleepy but there was probably still plenty in my system. Within a couple days, however, the pain was back. One of the most fun things about taking a medication that really does help with the chronic pain is stopping it or reducing it and experiencing rebound pain. I’m not sure whether it hurts so much because I’ve got used to the lower level of pain or whether the pain actually increased somehow when I reduced the dose. But it ranks right up there. Anyway, I increased the dose to 200 mg three times per day.

I was sick Monday and perhaps that’s what led to Monday night. Normally, I’d blame this kind of sick on something I ate but I had the chills. etc., to go along with it so I’m guessing a virus of some sort. So perhaps I didn’t absorb the meds from the day. That’s just a guess but Monday night I couldn’t fall asleep and by 4:30 I was completely exhausted. I finally fell asleep but woke up an hour later in ridiculous pain. By around 6:30 I gave up trying to sleep and got up, made some decaf coffee and took my morning meds as well as additional pain meds. And ate some toast considering all those drugs that were going to be floating around in my stomach. Coffee, by the way, is part of my theory that hot liquids make the meds dissolve and hence absorb faster. Decaf so I didn’t wake up further. My goal – my calculated goal – was to get a few hours sleep and then be able to drive to Springfield to see the shrink this afternoon.

So, I fell asleep finally at about 7:30, pain under control and feeling dopey. I don’t take pain meds in the morning because they sure don’t help me wake up. Normally, I just deal with pain during the day or throw some ibuprofen at it. But, you know, it was either get at least some sleep so I could drive or potentially over-medicate for the day and be too sleepy.

Too sleepy won and that, I guess, is the error part. I slept until around 11:30, called the shrink to reschedule and tried to stay awake long enough for him to call back. Then I slept again until around 3:30. And here’s my diabetes quote for the day – woke up with moderately high blood sugar after all that sleeping and not eating anything but the toast all day. I’m still feeling tired and dopey and I hope I sleep tonight but I kind of think I should stay awake the rest of the day/evening.

It’s a little frustrating that I may have to choose between adequate pain control and being able to function during the day. The line is not quite that clear since poor pain control also means chronic sleep deprivation which impacts my ability to function during the day, too. I’m seeking balance right now and it remains possible that the sleepiness will gradually improve as I take the meds longer, titrating up to a dose that gives me decent pain control. I don’t expect no pain and the Neurontin does not do much for the knee, hip or back pain but it does help the muscle/being beaten with a stick pain. It feels a little sad to me right now that I’m leaning toward the being doped up all the time so I can’t function option over the not sleeping and hurting all the time option.

And this particular niche makes me feel really old.

9 Comments

Filed under Fybromyalgia

May 13, 2013

share and don’t share

It’s the fourth Annual Diabetes Blog Week. Today’s topic is:

Often our health care team only sees us for about 15 minutes several times a year, and they might not have a sense of what our lives are really like. Today, let’s pretend our medical team is reading our blogs. What do you wish they could see about your and/or your loved one’s daily life with diabetes? On the other hand, what do you hope they don’t see?

Let me say first that I don’t know that I’m going to participate daily. Probably not. And I’m being all unofficial and not adding myself to the list. I’m not up to that this year.

But here goes anyway.

I think I have one of the best endocrinologists. And honestly, my current primary care doc and nurse practitioner are pretty damn good too. I’ve never had a 15 minute in and out appointment with any of them. Each of them seems to understand my struggles and none of them judge me. I always feel like they ought to be yelling at me. Perhaps I’m hard enough on myself.

Dr. G&P (the endo) always asks about how my parents are doing. He’s pleased enough with my kind of average a1c and he recognizes that I’m overwhelmed and stressed out. I’m going to go in a couple of weeks and I know my weight will be up and I’m not sure about my a1c but I’m betting it’s up a little. And he will ask how Dad is doing and listen to me when I tell him that this year has been hell so far. He does what he can, he always listens. And I never feel rushed out. I’ve tried to thank him for this and I guess he feels like it’s just the way it should be.

My primary care doctor, the first time I met him last fall, totally got it when I said my life felt like a perfect storm. He knew exactly what I meant and he listened. I go into a doctor’s office expecting the negative and he was someone I had never met. And he understood.

He’s only part time in our little clinic but I like my nurse practitioner too. She spent the better part of an hour with me at this “wellness visit” she forced me into. She listened to me when what I talked about most was the stress and guilt I feel.

And none of them, not once, when I’ve said that I keep thinking I should be able to do something different, to take care of Dad or Mom better, to fix myself – not one of them hasn’t jumped to reassure me that there’s nothing more I can do to fix them and they understand that I will do better with myself over time. None of them threatens me or makes dire predictions. I can’t imagine that they spend even a minute thinking about me when I’m not there, but when I am, I think they really care. And that is worth a lot to me.

6 Comments

Filed under Diabetes

May 9, 2013

why don’t people want to take my money?

I should take pictures. This spring is a repeat of last spring. People agree to lawn care and then I never hear from them again. Today’s landscaper has no-showed twice. Last year’s lawn guy had to be chased down every time it needed to be done – and then might show up the next week or maybe the one after. It’s frustrating. It’s annoying. And the weeds are going to grow up over the top of the house.

Sigh.

9 Comments

Filed under Quickie

May 8, 2013

national mental health month

May is National Mental Health Month. Last summer, I wrote about going public with depression. Maybe that’s all I need to say on the subject. Maybe not. I wrote about what it’s like for me to experience depression and how I try to cope with it, I didn’t really write about what it’s like to live in our society with depression.

I’ve been sad lately. Not falling-down-the-rabbit-hole depressed. Not stuck-in-the-swamp overwhelmed with life. Just sad. My thoughts are sad. My affect is sad. My dreams are sad. I’m also still – so slowly – adjusting to the Neurontin. It’s hard to tell whether the sadness, the lack of energy, the low motivation, the desire to sleep are all about the drug or partly about the depression. Or whether I’m just sad.

Asking these questions of myself, not trusting my emotions, is part of living with depression for me. I recognize different aspects of depression in myself. I know part of it – especially the falling down the rabbit hole part – is probably biochemical. Part of it – particularly the stuck in the swamp part – is most likely situational. Part of it, I think, is just me. The person who tends to react to everything – stress, anger, fear, happiness, success, everything – with depression. I really don’t like this part. I think I’m a bad person. Weak. A loser.

I know that people who care about me or who are otherwise my friends will object to that kind of thinking. But perhaps they’ve never lived with depression. Maybe they’ve never had people, even well meaning people, tell them that they just need to grow up. Or that they should pick themselves up by their bootstraps. Or that it’s not so bad. Maybe they’ve never been judged because they aren’t working. Maybe they’ve never had people walk away because they’ve talked about having attempted suicide when they were young. Or worse, that they sometimes think about death now, even if they have no plans to act on those thoughts. People really, really don’t want to hear that. Maybe they haven’t gone for months at a time having to force themselves out of the house. Maybe they regularly sleep for more than a few hours per night.

However that sounds, I don’t usually feel sorry for myself about that. People who haven’t experienced depression don’t understand it. It’s like people with diabetes complaining that everyone doesn’t understand diabetes. Much as I hate to admit it, before I was diagnosed and learned to live with it, I had no real understanding of diabetes. I thought I did. Looking back, it embarrasses me just how little I knew and the assumptions I made. So I recognize that people don’t get it. Some of them mean well. Some are truly judgmental. But most probably mean well.

Still, I’m embarrassed by depression. I judge myself harshly. I feel less than. I do believe at some level that I could be different, that I just don’t try hard enough. I talk to people about what it means to be clinically depressed but at heart, I’m not sure it applies to me. I should be stronger. I should be better. I should able too pull myself up. I should be able to force my way through this and be normal.

I know that’s not logical, or at least I think it isn’t. I also think that most – or at least many – people think that it’s true. I fear what people think even though I’m quite honest about my experiences here on the blog. Well, pretty honest. I don’t write about it often, I don’t want to drive people away. I tend to assume that people judge me, even when they don’t know me. I have the weight as an outward symptom of my depression so that serves as reason enough to assume people judge me. But then I make the same sorts of assumptions online. Like the other day when I reached out and posted a comment on a new blog and the person who writes it couldn’t even say “hello.” I felt rejected, alone, and wanting to never return to that blog even though I am enjoying reading her stories. I do that. I run away. I’ve also given up chasing people who walk away from me. I used to. I used to beg for them to care. Am I stronger for no longer chasing people or am I weaker because I don’t actually feel worthy of people caring, so I don’t try to make them. It takes me a while to let go. I give people a thousand chances.

Oh, as far as the blog thing goes, I don’t expect people to always comment. I have some friends who read and never comment, we keep up in other ways. I have online friends who show up once in a while, it’s always nice to see them. I also don’t expect constant responses if I comment on someone else’s blog. I do kind of expect a hello and I try to greet new people who stop by this blog. I guess I expect courtesy and maybe that’s unreasonable. I also confess that I know my total feeling of rejection is also unreasonable. I don’t know how to be different. I think I will keep reading that blog I like, but I will never comment again.

Anyway, that’s my experience with mental illness. I’d like to deny it. Depression doesn’t always qualify as mental illness. Sometimes it’s temporary. Sometimes it’s grief. But for me, this is the way it is.

16 Comments

Filed under Depression

May 5, 2013

lookit me, I’m cross posting

One of my goals this year is to cook more and to post more recipes. I have been cooking a little more. For example, I made a very nice filet of beef today with caramelized onions and mushrooms. And roasted broccoli. Oh my goodness, after eating roasted broccoli I don’t see how anyone cooks it any other way. But it doesn’t seem worth posting recipes about these types of things. I made a lemon chicken risotto – well, actually a cheaters risotto. Maybe someday I will post that.

So, I decided to move my cookbooks into my office this evening. It’s a rather eclectic collection. I got rid of a bunch that I never used and I guess I have some still in the shelves that I haven’t used much, but most of them are books I have used or will use or just enjoyed reading.

And now, I’m going to use them. That’s the plan. Maybe once per week or once per month, I’m going to try something new. I’ll keep working on cooking more and even imperfect recipes, as far as nutrition goes, will be an improvement over the fast and processed foods I’m eating simply because I’m too tired to cook.

What shall I cook first?

13 Comments

Filed under Cooking

May 3, 2013

may 3, 2013

It’s snowing this morning. Wet, heavy snow. This wouldn’t be unusual in Wyoming but I don’t think I have ever seen snow in southern Missouri in May. It’s the end of the world as we know it.

And I’m glad I haven’t gotten my patio garden started yet this spring. Or winter?

4 Comments

Filed under Outside My Window

May 2, 2013

the light of day

I’m thinking about getting a security system. ADT has an installation special going on for only $99 and it’s less than $40 per month for their basic package, which really would be sufficient for my needs. And I’m going to shut off Dish so it won’t be adding to household expenses. It has a couple door sensors and a motion sensor and all I really think I need is the reassurance that no one has broken in upstairs in the middle of the night when I start hearing the completely normal sounds of the house settling, of raccoons running down the deck, or the cats jumping up and down off of stuff.

In the light of day, it seems silly. No one in their right mind is going to break into a house that is obviously being lived in. And a house that isn’t fancy enough to make you think it has anything worth stealing – which as far as traditional robbery goes, it doesn’t. I’m never worried about anyone breaking in downstairs. Hell, I don’t always remember to lock the doors down here – which is kind of stupid considering this is a resort area and my particular street has only one or two houses that are occupied year round besides this one. Used to be, at least, that you heard about summer or weekend people getting burgled.

But at 2 o’clock in the morning when I hear those noises, it keeps me awake, listening. One thump is not the same as footsteps. I could hear footsteps if that’s what they were. But I’m thinking that the door sensors will be the equivalent of the big dog that would help me let go of the listening. That was one of the nice things about having a big dog. Fred would definitely have eaten anyone trying to get in the house and I never, never had those middle of the night fears with him there.

In the middle of the night, I think I’m going to call ADT tomorrow. In the morning, I think it’s a little silly. And today is supposed to be landscape day – we’ll see if this one follows through.

8 Comments