Blogging from the E.R.

We're back in the hospital.

Please pray.

Alula

I'm down to about three straws

Work has been getting increasingly annoying lately.

We just got a new manager about two weeks ago, and she grates on my nerves. I'm kinda resigned to the fact that we are not going to get along.

I've been frustrated enough to start cleaning and organizing, mostly with just a trash can.

Pain in the Arch! Planter Fasciitis

Hey Ladies!

Fuzzy's recent struggles with a inflamed metatarsal has inspired me to boor you all with a overview of foot care.

The most common foot problem I see in the shoe selling bizz- is Planter Fasciitis. It is always caused from a lack of arch support, standing too much, or bad shoes. With out arch support the tendons and muscles in you feet will shorten. If you feel pain in you heal or running along the bottom of your foot its time for new shoes. The pain is usually more sever in the morning when you get out of bed, this is because the muscles have relaxed and when you stand up you are pulling them again. Planter Fasciitis can get bad enough to be surgical if left untreated, but really all you need to fix it is a good arch support. Generally speaking the arch supports found in box stores or grocers stores are worthless. ( they also seem to be increasingly more expensive. ) Not only do they not provide enough support, what support they do have is flattened in a few weeks. I am not saying this just because I sell the expensive stuff; I say it because I can tell you from personal experience use your money for what will work the first time. You should be able to find something that will last at least a year and cost you around $30-$60 at an athletic or higher end shoe store. Or call me! Treatment for Planter Fasciitis is simple better shoes, better support; there are also some exercises you can do to help. Rolling you foot over a frozen bottle of water will relax the muscles; and you can stretch it by simply sticking out you leg with you heal on the ground and raise your toes up, you should feel it pull across the bottom of you foot. DO NOT DO THIS AGAINST A WALL OR STAIRS! You could tear the muscles and tendons. When you get Planter Fasciitis it can take a few weeks with a good arch support before you start to feel releaf. I recommend an adjustment period with your old shoes and new shoes or arch-support. Wear the new shoes for a few hours then go back to the old shoes for a few hours. Its like working out when you are not use to it. Your muscles get sore and tired fast. However some people get so much releaf from the better shoes that they do not need to transition.

More boring foot trivia to come.

Proposed Event

I would like to propose a multi-purpose Get Crap Done Marathon, to tentatively take place Friday, March 19th through Sunday, March 21st.

Bring your unfinished projects and we will use group power to make you sit your butt down and help you do it. This includes anything you've procrastinated or haven't had time for in your life.

My own line items include:

-Major business items for our new online business (final approvals and whatnot so Fuzzy can submit paperwork)

-Final edited and chaptered versions of my books for submitting to publishers

-Query letters for said books to send to publishers

-writing query letters to professors to get my foot in the door for a PhD program

Most of my items I have procrastinated because I need feedback from someone (anyone) in the process of doing it--I'm sure I had more on my list, though I'm rushing right now to get to work.

In any case, if others have "Get it Done" items they want to do for such an event, let me know if you're interested and if the date works for you (if it doesn't send me an idea of your alternate availability). I would be willing to host this event at my place, or go to someone else's if you want visitors or have a major home improvement project to tackle.

Alula

Home! (...too soon?)

Mr. Borealis was released from the hospital today! :D

However, this evening he's still where he was before he went in, except with different medications and he's ten pounds heavier. I'm a little worried they sent him home too fast because he really pushed to get released. He's feverish again, nauseas, and still has bleeding ulcers.

I keep telling him we can check back in to the hospital at any time because he shouldn't be worried about the cost. We've already maxed out on whatever we would have to pay for insurance to cover everything (we had an emergency fund for such an occasion, and I'm very thankful for that right now). Insurance is kicking in and covered the insane cost of the vancomycin for his bacterial infection--we paid $25, but the cost without insurance is over $600. BTW, we have changed pharmacies to a different chain after Mr. B had trouble filling his Lialda in January, and haven't had a major issue since.

Hoping,

Alula

Sleeping in a Blue Plastic Gown

We're still in the hospital.

Thursday, after all the tests came back, we found out that Mr. B has been colonized by a bunch of bad bacteria (it's called C. Diff). Ironically, as I've found from Googling this online, he was probably exposed to this bacteria back when he was in for his first colonoscopy in January, and then the antibiotics his doctor gave him for a tummy ache gave them fuel to grow. It's been exacerbating his ulcerative colitis to an extreme extent.

C. Diff is easy to treat. Unfortunately, it is also extremely contagious to anyone who has a compromised immune system (so if you are healthy and have a normal immune system, it doesn't pose a threat, but for people who are already sick it can be detrimental). So the hospital makes us all gown up to go into his room to reduce the threat that we bring any spores back out with us:

It's a lot of fun to sleep in a chair that almost fully reclines in this ensemble, let me tell you.

So the plan of action right now is to treat the bacterial infection (it's taken over his entire large intestine at this point) and continue to treat the ulcerative colitis, and hope for the best.

Last night the nurse attempted to double dose my husband by bringing both a full dose of Lialda (which he is supposed to be on) and one of Asacol (which he is not)--both of these drugs contain mesolamine. And they tried to skip his prednisone, which could have stopped his heart, thank God we remembered when the nurse didn't! It got delivered about 6 hours late, but he's still alive.

Alula

Blogging from the Hospital

Yup. That's where I am. The view out the second story window is just as good as it was last July.

Mr. B was hospitalized this morning around 10. I was at work because when I asked him that morning if he needed me to stay home, which I would have been happy to do, he said he was fine. I remember saying something about how skinny he's gotten. He was skinny before, and now his skin is hanging.

I sent his mother a text asking her to check on him around lunch, and she sent me one back saying his dad was taking him to the hospital, orders of his doctor.

His colon has been bleeding since Monday of last week, and he had to get up about every half hour last night between going to the bathroom and a persistent stomach ache.

So I rushed out of work a little after 1. I think I scared my coworker, who telecommutes most days, because he heard the phone call where someone had been hospitalized and then I had to leave. I came straight to the hospital, except it was the wrong hospital because I was freaking out, and they had to give me directions. Then I got to the right hospital, eventually found the right building, and found my husband.

Once again, he told me he was fine.

I hung around until about 4 when I needed to run home to get his medications. I grabbed dinner on the way and then got home, fed our kitties, got together a night bag and all of his medications, mailed in the speeding ticket he got yesterday, and then came back. It was really weird coming home though, and knowing he wasn't. It kind of made my skin creep. I am really afraid of losing him.

I hope it snows tonight so I have an excuse not to go to school tomorrow; I'm still planning on making it to work, but I might use some sick leave to take that off, too.

Alula

This is Not Tom...

One of my fellow library nerds shared this with me. It's similar to the impossible quiz, but the answers will make sense, and you will need to collaborate with people to get the answers (unless you are freakishly endowed with your mental capacity and pop culture knowledge).

Read and article about THISISNOTTOM.COM here.

And try to solve the riddle here.

The Last Option.

We're scraping the bottom of the barrel for treatments for my husband. He's 6'2", and now weighs under 130lbs. He developed bleeding ulcers in his digestive tract over the weekend.

He finally got a (NEW!) doctor to proscribe him the prednisone yesterday, and that same doctor lifted the BRAT diet restrictions. Since then, he's eaten (and, surprisingly, THANKFULLY, kept down) two cans of ravioli and some Pizza Hut. The side effects of the prednisone are increased appetite, acne, mood swings, occasional nausea, and retaining water--essentially, it's going to turn him in to a pregnant woman. So hopefully he's going to put some weight back on.

The new doctor is also running some tests to see if there might be any secondary infections or other problems going on.

The next 48 hours will tell on this one.

Alula

Didn't think I'd post this...

But that is totally my mail box. Snow at the begining of a three day weekend is fun!

Men are Stupid!

Just so everyone knows men are the stupidest creatures on the planet in my book right now. Mr. Man and his buddies are going to Salt Lake City this weekend yes Valentines weekend. They are going to a hunters convention thing, and leaving me and little man alone for 3 days yes I should be used to this by now but guess what I'm not and I don't like it and all these stupid guys are asking me whats wrong duh I don't want to be alone for 3 days while they get to go party. I don't ever get to go out and I'm lonely and bored out of my mind all because I don't have any friends where I live at all I mean none, Nada and zilch. Little man I love him but he is 2 and driving me nuts. The usual not listening and he had the ickiest stomach flu last week that almost landed him in the hospital. Oh and did I get any help oh no that's not Mr mans Job! If he uses the phrase "that's your job right now" one more time. I swear I going to go up in flames and start screaming my head off. And the phrase "I don't see how that's part of your diet" whenever I eat something in front of him that will also cause me to go nuclear. And Mr Man younger sister she is 18 is 4 months pregnant by her 28 year old boyfriend and guess when her birthday was in November, if anyone can do math you are going to see how that doesn't add up. And no because of something that happened years ago between her and Mr Man I will not be allowed to help her at all, no hand me downs of watching the baby. This will also get rid of my babysitter Mr Mans dad, because he will be fully occupied with the newborn. Everything is going to hell in a handbag and I am going nuts. Say bye-bye to fuzzy because she is going to be committed to a padded room soon.

Lie to me.

If I ask you, tell me it will be okay. Tell me I'm overreacting, and things are going to figure themselves out.

Mr. B was so sick last night that he passed out during the second half of the Commercial Bowl. He woke up long enough to puke, tell me he knew the Saints were going to win, and drag himself up to the bedroom. We had another rough night between the nausea and the diarrhea. He decided he couldn't attend work today when he thought he was going to faint while showering.

I woke up with a head cold and a hangover from the lack of sleep. I worked from home today because I wasn't going to deal with the snowed out commute as well, so I sat downstairs on my computer running basic data entry all day. I got Mr. B's parents to ferry him to and from his doctor's appointment.

He's lost 4 pounds since his last appointment a week ago. Today, he ate the following: two ounces of a protein shake, 2 ounces of a club soda, about 1/3 cup of chicken broth, and 1/2 a slice of bread with butter on it.

The doctor wouldn't give him the drug that worked last time (it's a corticosteroid called prednisone). He still has other things he "wants to try first," despite the fact that both of Mr. B's parents tried to strong arm him into prescribing the only thing that got Mr. B better last time. My husband is going to be in the hospital before he gets the drug he needs.

Now he is back on the bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast, and has a new run of medications to try. Once again, the doctor requests that we "give him a call if there's no improvement."

Oh, and if there's no improvement this time, chances are good he will have to be admitted to the hospital for treatment.

I am about to improve my foot up this doctor's ass.

Alula

Update on Mr. B

He's still sick. I think he's getting sicker, but it's hard to tell. He fakes a good attitude really well when he wants to.

He's nauseas all the time now. He's having trouble keeping his pills for the ulcerative colitis down, which means the ulcerative colitis won't get better if those pills don't make it to his colon.

He's hungry, but when he eats he gets sick again about 15-30 minutes later; he's really angry about it because he gets sick when he doesn't eat, too. The antibiotics that doctor has him on make it extremely worse, so he's stopped taking them. He throws up when he eats and when he doesn't. We haven't been able to identify a food trigger--everything comes back up, including water.

He's extremely weak and shaky today, and his parents are losing faith in his doctor. The reason he was hospitalized last time was because they didn't get things under control fast enough, he lost to much weight, and then he was too weak to heal himself. When Mr. B's father asked the doctor why they didn't just put him on what worked last time, the doctor said he wanted to try antibiotics and he would "look into what happened last time." He never did. His father is taking him back in and they are going to demand the drug that worked last time.

I am now worried that this will be the 2nd Valentine's day we spend in the hospital. It's February 7th today; they last time he was admitted on February 13th, and the timeline is ripe for that happening again. (And so help me God--none of you had better call this "romantic" or some bull crap like that. Last time, when we were seniors in high school, a friend told me she thought it was terribly romantic that I was sitting by his bedside for Valentine's day because "it's just like The English Patient." It's not romantic to watch someone you love waste away from an incurable disease.)

Also, Mr. B has asked that I not tell anyone about what's going on. However, I'm freaking out, and I think my friends have a right to know that's why I'm weird lately. He doesn't even want his parents to know. I am struggling to do this alone. So please act like I didn't tell you anything if you talk to him, or he might start hiding his symptoms more.

Alula

What's my age again?

Yesterday my supervisor found out I'm 25 when I was explaining about Mr. B's health problems lately. For Q, and anyone else who might consider feeding him, his little foray into pizza over the weekend (not to mention when I came home and found him gorging on sugary cereal last night) has him in a serious nose dive again. He was doing alright on Friday, and we thought he was making decent recovery on Saturday, and then Sunday he couldn't keep anything down. Last night he got up twice, and I suspect the kiddie cereal was the cause.

So anyways, I was giving my supervisor a heads up that if the situation got worse (because my husband has no self control), and accidentally made a dating statement: "He had to be hospitalized for this condition in 2003, right before we graduated high school."

My supervisor's eyes shot open and he said, "You graduated high school in 2003? Good God you're young!"

I shrugged, and raised my shoulders. "Sorry."

I had a moment of panic, because I've encountered age-related discrimination in academia before; my advisors have always told me I'm too young to pursue a Master's, let alone a second Master's...let alone to consider a PhD. Obviously I don't have the life experience to formulate my own ideas for research, right? Mostly it's the other students, and not the professors (to whom everyone is young); many of the 30-somethings get shocked looks when they find out I'm "so young." I'm too young, apparently, to have a well-regarded industry job. I'm too young to have had an 8 year relationship with my husband. Too young to own a house. I try to dress older when I go to work, because while my supervisor is a really cool guy (btw, I found out when processing some paperwork for a conference we're attending in April that he's in his mid 50s), I've generally found that the research field is similar to academia, and I was afraid that if the age thing got out, I might be subconsciously overlooked for things like conferences, hardcore research, and getting my opinion asked.

To clarify, my supervisor isn't the issue. He knows I'm able, which is why we are presenting our research together. It's the other researchers, some of whom I don't know as well. My supervisor came right back at me with: "Let me rephrase that--Good God, I'm old!"

We both laughed, and the conversation moved on. But it kind of got me thinking about how weird age perception is, because I have never once considered myself too young to be doing the things I'm doing. I've set the right age for me to have kids (if ever) after 30, which I am hearing from classmates in their 40s is "too old", while Munchkin plans to have kids now, and she's younger than me. My sister (age 23) graduated from high school a year early, is getting her PhD now, and is still effectively living with my parents. Q was apparently ready to own a house and get married before bothering to get through high school. I'm beginning to believe that age-related milestones are more loosely fitted for our generation than for previous generations. I'm curious to hear others thoughts on this: what are you ready to be doing in your life? What have you been told you were too young for? Or conversely, too old for?

Alula