The poking. The picking. The pulling at your lips and nearly choking you with mirrors, prods and other instruments. And those sharp little x-ray panels that press against your palate. It's all kind of nasty. Or is it?
I'm wondering. Am I the only freak that actually likes going to the dentist?
It's been another tough week. My mother was taken off the respirator on Monday and hasn't been back on. She's been constantly on oxygen though to support her breathing and both her heart rate and blood pressure have been all over the charts. She has pneumonia, infections throughout her body, and her blood condition may be progressing toward leukemia. Respective of her wishes, she won't be put back on a respirator if she needs it. Her doctors have told me that if she is put on the respirator again it likely would be permanent. She didn't want that and I agree.
Despite being off the respirator and not being sedated, she hasn't been fully coherent every day. She's very weak, but has had some better days where she's able to speak a few sentences through her oxygen mask. She recognizes us and asks questions, often about Clare. She also wanted a picture of Clare taped to the rail of her bed. Other days, she's been too weak to even lift an arm and, if she does try to speak, doesn't always make sense. Unfortunately, the bad times are seeming to outnumber the better times. In some way, the situation seems kind of one step forward, two steps back—a difficult and slow progression toward whatever may be.
It seems cruel to say it, but I wish that if she truly can't recover that she'd go more quickly. Seeing her in such discomfort with her health deteriorating is terrible and painful. All I can hope for is that all of us stay strong enough to handle whatever is meant to be.
Posting about my Mom's health seems kind of morose at this point, but I know that a few of you want to know how she and my family have been. I also want Clare to remember how much her Nana asked for her during both conscious and semi-conscious states. Again, I truly thank all of you who have left supportive comments or emailed with your good wishes or prayers. I'm sorry that I haven't responded personally. I know others of you have gone though difficult times and written that getting a few comments really is uplifting and that's true. We've got a really supportive group of blogging friends here and I'm thankful for all you. I'm sorry I haven't been reading your blogs; I'll try to catch up when things settle down. Until then, my thanks for your support and concern.
When my Dad was struck with cancer and died seventeen years ago, I didn't handle it well. I didn't break down or get emotional—I did exactly the opposite. He had pancreatic cancer and, because I didn't know much about it at the time, I was probably in denial about how long he'd be around for me. I didn't visit often enough or even tell most friends that he had been sick until he died. Being a twenty-two year old who had never lost anyone very close to me (my grandparents all died either before I was born or when I was very young), I guess I handled it as best as I could at the time.
Since my Dad died, my Mom has played the old Italian widow really well. She's been depressed at times, has mastered feeling sorry for herself, has conjured up guilt in others, and has gone over funeral arrangements with me even when she was perfectly healthy. She's also somewhat of a hypochondriac. She sometimes seems to exaggerate symptoms, has carried on about feeling sick long after she should feel well, and is ridiculously cautious about not going out in the cold or wind so she doesn't get a cold or pneumonia. When she told me last night that she felt like she should go to the hospital, I thought it was the hypochondriac calling. Unfortunately, it wasn't.
For about twenty-five years, my mother had a blood disorder called polycythemia vera, which means that her body made too many blood cells. It was manageable through regular drawing of blood. Recently, the condition took a turn and her body is producing too few blood cells—this isn't uncommon among patients with this disease. The new condition is called myelodysplastic syndrome or preleukemia, because it is sometimes a precursor to leukemia.
Possibly because of the strain from the blood disorder, or possibly because of an already slightly irregular heartbeat, the nurses and doctors found last night that my mother's blood pressure was dangerously low, but her heart rate was about twice the normal level. In the past twenty-four hours, she's undergone dozens of tests and is currently still in intensive care.
My mother may recover and live for years. Her problems might also worsen. Maybe because of how I reacted with my father, I'm realistic about what could happen. I'm also, at the age of thirty-nine, thinking about the possibility of being orphaned. (The 40 Year Old Orphan. Wasn't that a movie?) There's something about losing both parents that changes a person no matter how old. I'm not quite sure what it is yet, but I know that there's something.
For once in the past few months, I have a couple other posts ready to go on this blog. I was even going to point out that the last post was my three hundredth. Instead, I'm posting about my Mom to explain why I may not be reading or commenting on other blogs or responding to emails for a few days. Life goes on, but part of that life for me right now is acknowledging that my Mom will need me.
I'll be back next week. Until then, Happy Spring, Happy Easter to those that celebrate, and a great weekend to you all.
March Is a Tease
The end of my whining about winter is coming near. It's been forty to fifty degrees a few days this week and the snow is melting. Now I can begin to see all the work I have to do in the yard once it really warms up. You won't hear me complain about that or how hot it may get though—as long as it's warm and I can get outside I'll be happy.
This heat wave may not last though. It's only March and I hear the temperatures will be back in the thirties soon. I'm just hoping we won't see any more temps in the twenties or lower. I've come to believe that I live in the Arctic Circle. When I drive just about twenty minutes south the snow is gone already and the temperature is five to ten degrees higher. I guess that's the price we pay for living in Northwest Connecticut.
Something New to Whine About
Winter being almost over doesn't mean I'll stop complaining entirely. The presidential election is really starting to annoy me and there are still about eight months to go. There's one candidate in particular who really bugs me. This isn't a political blog though, so I won't go into that.
I will say that not I'm entirely behind any candidate one hundred percent. I'm registered Republican, but I'm just not feeling the love for McCain. Instead, I think we could use the fresh change that Obama stands for. I think he might also help bring some respect back to the country that the other candidates wouldn't. I'm curious what people outside the United States think.
I'll also say this. From what I've read online, I think there are quite a few Republicans—especially in states like Connecticut—who might vote for Obama. But, if Hillary is nominated—especially if it's through the superdelegate system or primary do-overs—we'll be voting for McCain.
I'm Being Found
Not long ago, there wasn't anybody I knew in real life who read this blog (aside from Clare's Mom). Then a few months ago someone from an internship I had over fifteen years ago found me. Sites like Facebook, where I've got my blog listed on my profile page, do make me and the blog more public I suppose.
Now I've been found by a friend from high school. Say hello to Tamara who blogs at Spincerely Yours—"a knitting blog with a dash of mommy" as she described it.
I'm going to have to watch what I say now that I know some people who really know me are reading.
Project X Update
I did go to the gym this morning. I also did some warming up at home. The number of push-ups that I can do is pathetic. I forgot to weigh myself at the gym so I'm not sure exactly how much I want to lose (we don't have a scale at home); I'm guessing it's somewhere between fifteen and twenty pounds though.
Bloggers joining me so far are Ed from Zoe's Dad, Phil from A Family Runs Through It, and Matthew at Childs Play x2. Anyone else want to join in committing to exercising, eating healthier, and losing weight? I also thought about creating a new blog just for Project X—a kind of real dads' journal of getting healthy. A few of us could be contributers with no pressure other than to post when we feel like it and, as I wrote yesterday, "encourage and harass" each other into sticking with it. Let me know what you think.
Have a great weekend, everyone. Don't forget to spring the clocks ahead. I gladly give up an hour's sleep for more daylight hours.
I read a lot of dad blogs. I was reading them before I started this blog about two and a half years ago. If there's one recurring post or theme I've seen in dad blogs it's that we love our families. If there are two recurring posts or themes I've seen in dad blogs it's that we love our families and kids' television drives us batty. If there are three recurring posts or themes I've seen in dad blogs it's that we love our families, kids' television drives us batty, and we need to lose weight. This post is about that last thing. (If you're among the dad bloggers who don't need to lose weight, I apologize for lumping you in with the rest of us. You can skip this post. On second thought, keep reading—I'm going to need you more than some of these other deadweights.)
Technically, you could say that my weight has yo-yo'd—but over long periods of time and not to very far extremes. I was a skinny kid—the type that could hide behind a flagpole. But that was only until I was about eight years old. Then (possibly because of all the cookies, cakes and ice cream and all that sitting in front of the television) I blew up. I wasn't obese, but I definitely wasn't in shape either. By about fourteen though, I had grown out of it without any real effort at all. Aside from putting on a few pounds in college, I stayed pretty much the same weight right through my twenties. At thirty, I got a desk job and gained ten or twenty pounds and it showed. Again, I never put much effort into getting rid of it and I didn't. That is I didn't until my last job. At the theater I last worked at a combination of long hours, missed meals and stress dropped me almost thirty pounds—my waist size was actually heading below thirty. It wasn't healthy and neither was I.
Since I've left that job and been home, some weight has crept back on. Probably about twenty pounds of it. You might call me skinny-fat. I can hide it during the winter, but with spring and summer coming I need to drop some of the pounds. I also have a lot of perfectly good clothes that I'm just a size or two from fitting into. I have no excuse really. I've had the time to exercise and eat right, but I haven't. Lately, I've gotten to the gym about once a week but that's not enough. That's where Project X comes in. (The X is for exercise. Project E didn't have the same ring to it—it sounded like I was either making drugs or starting an entertainment network.)
Over the next month or two, I'm resolving to get to the gym at least three times a week and get in at least some exercise every day. I'm also going to start doing healthy things like eating breakfast. My problem is that I've told myself that I'd do these things before and it never lasts. That's where you come in. I'll post weekly reports on my efforts and progress and anyone who reads is welcome to encourage or harass me until I reach my goal. You can even join in Project X if you've got a little excess around the middle or anywhere else you need to lose. Let me know in a comment or email and I'll encourage and harass you too. It should be easier with blogmigos around for support, right?
And in case you're wondering, Project X starts tomorrow. Right now I'm sitting at the computer with a bag of cookies.
A few weeks ago, Clare fell while she was riding her scooter in the driveway. When I asked her how it happened, she got upset and screamed that she didn’t know. I figured that she probably was just angry at herself for falling. But, it turns out that He Who Must Not Be Named might have had something to do with it.
Check out the Harry Potter lightning-shaped scar.
I wonder if she’d be good at quidditch.
My Mom hates milk. When she was pregnant and her doctor told her to drink milk, she mixed it with soda (so she told me). (Yeah, kind of like Laverne De Fazio.) I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drink milk straight. Consequently, she never made me drink much milk. I did have to take vitamins though. And then there was juice.
Once I was in college, I didn’t drink much juice either—except maybe when I mixed it with rum or vodka. But, since Clare was born, we’ve become a big juice house—probably like most other houses with kids. We get juice boxes, juice pouches and bottles of all sizes.
Since I started updating this blog more often a few months ago, I’ve been sent some items to review. (Unfortunately, those items haven’t included motor vehicles or electronics.) But, a few weeks ago I was asked if I’d review True Blue Blueberry Juice in exchange for a few bottles. Since I like blueberries and already knew that they’re the number one food for antioxidants, I said sure.
So, last week, I received a case of True Blue. None of you really know me, but I wouldn’t give this a good review unless I liked it. And I did.
At first, Clare didn’t want to try the new juice. But I slipped her some without telling her what it was. And her review was good too—she drank it. I also gave a bottle to my Mom (not to mix with milk I hope) and she gave it the thumbs up too.
So, if you’re looking for a new addition to the juice rotation, check out this healthy choice. According to the True Blue website, blueberries are naturally sweeter than most other fruits used to make juices and need “significantly less added sweetener.” As a result, the juice is lower in calories than many others.
Check out the True Blue website for store locations, coupons, and some “interesting facts” about blueberries—like the blueberry being one of the few fruits native to North America, blueberry juice being popular among Civil War soldiers, and July being National Blueberry Month. There’s even some trivia that AdventureDad might confirm for us—that in Sweden dried blueberries are used to treat diarrhea in children.
So, not only do you get a recommendation for a healthy juice in this post, you also get some useless trivia that you probably didn’t want to know.
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