Archive for category marriage

I went to the doctor…

First and foremost, I am not a doctor so everything I share should be taken simply as my own experience because it is not a professional opinion so never use anything I say as medical advice.

I had to check myself in to our local hospital a month ago because my doctor advised me to after all the recent blood tests came back with not so favorable results. (I was diagnosed anemic two years ago with a level 10 Hemoglobin. My physician at the time had me add an iron supplement into my diet to get me back on track and six weeks later I was declared “cured.” My level was healthy again.). Fast forward almost 2 years later and apparently the anemia is still active.

Generally speaking a normal healthy female hemoglobin level is 12 -15. (My hemoglobin red blood cell carrying oxygen) was dangerously low at 4. People can flatline at 3. So, I’m kind of a walking corpse. Nice. My love of zombie shows, movies and Spoiler Alert, I am a zombie. Minus the groaning. I went to the ER and although the ER gave me 3 units of blood and I immediately changed my eating habits from living to eat to now eating to live, like lots of spinach and red meat, my body is weaker than ever.

The last several months my husband immersed himself in research, looking for answers and asking, “what is going wrong with my wife,” as he worried I was wilting away to nothing. I was busy teaching and doing activities with our daughter. I was not by any means in denial about my ill health. I just didn’t want to deal with more stubborn-ass doctors with predetermined diagnoses. Perhaps I should have found a different doctor. My husband has been aware of the excessively heavy menstrual bleeding for a while. Being someone who tries to keep some things private between my husband and I, the thought of sharing my nightmare was on the horrific side. But I think he figured out some things when he heard me in the bathroom cursing at inanimate objects (pad failure). I should have invested a small mint in Kelly Clark. Because feminine products could have arrived in trailer shipping containers with the rate I was going. Understand I had to be prepared!

You might consider this fair warning to stop reading if you have a sensitive stomach or become queasy at the mention of blood.

But here’s what happened in the six months following the cured declaration. I stopped taking iron and I got weaker and weaker, thinking i was fine internally but because a doctor never said anything, I figured I was getting worse each day on my way out because of some other unknown culprit. That’s not suicidal. It was just a realistic acknowledgment that I thought I’d l ikely be gone before end of year with my list of health issues and all doctors pointing to MS before even asking questions or giving me the opportunity to explain my symptoms. I went to more than a dozen different doctor appointments in last 12 months asking questions and not one took the time to write up lab orders for blood tests because they already had pre-formed ideas or assumptions for what was going on. MS, anemia, osteoporosis… But what I consistently explained to doctors was that I’ve had MS almost 30 years and my symptoms do not physically feel like MS symptoms. And look this up docs, the symptoms are different and consistent with anemia. But because MS is the “bigger” health issue, no one has bothered to leave MS alone for a moment and focus on only the newer symptom stuff.

For example, I went to a lab appointment last spring and stepped out of my rig, and felt that gushing sensation (not urine, but menstrual blood) and got back in my vehicle to promptly return home and discover there was indeed an accident. A big one. Blood all over the back of my jeans. I just might need that truckload of supplies on an ongoing basis. But goodness, the truckloads I had to use. I got used to bleeding every 2 weeks with these obnoxious clots and assumed it was normal with getting older and probably indicative of menopause. Oops. That was yet another of Jenn’s misdiagnosies.

I made another appointment with my OBGYN and told her what was going on and after she examined and did some tests, she suggested uterine fibroids. She initially mentioned fibroids a year ago. I thought they might eventually go away. Oops. My bad again. The fibroids got worse. B also discovered with anemia, that might be the culprit when he came across blood disorders, anemia and fibroids in a search with bucketloads of responses, he said, Let’s make an appointment.” I needed a referral so I saw the first available physician at my clinic to get that referral.

But this time around at a new PCP, the physician I saw was different and she asked a lot of questions to understand how I determined I needed a hematologist referral. Because of my weakness in walking, I requested that B join me and he always provides wise insight as I explained everything going on. I explained my symptoms and that my weakness was increasing and I needed something to help me get better. Like today. A key component of this, that I didn’t realize was relevant is the fact I had some very very very heavy bleeding each month. And the fact that my periods lasted about 10-12 days apiece, and had a not so typical schedule of starting every two weeks, not 28 days. I was clearly bleeding about 24 days of each 31 days. Problematic. My body has been losing way more than it can possibly replace so it’s seriously no wonder that I have little strength to walk anywhere without losing my balance or falling. I can’t bleed one week each month like a normal woman. I have to bleed up to 24 days. About a year ago I gained the extra 10 days as my period bonus round. So, mathematically I was bleeding more than I wasn’t each month.

Back to the OBGYN who mentioned fibroids last year at my annual, but my failure was to not research or take it seriously. Those hell-raising fibroids are precisely why I’m anemic. She denied the possibility that anemia had any involvement with the uterine fibroids issue. One thing she did correctly was to give me a couple of referrals for surgeons. But the failure was her stating there’s no correlation between anemia and fibroids. But the surgeon said the fibroids and anemia typically go hand-in-hand. And when I was in the hospital, the physician asked if my periods were normal. Nope. They immediately scheduled a pelvic ultrasound to take a look at my abdomen, and see what they could see. Low and behold, there was something, but only doctors share the findings . The hospital suggested I make another appointment with my OBGYN. But instead, I got a call from a cancer surgeon a few days after I left the hospital. The scheduler said, “You have a mass” and scheduled an appointment with one of the physicians a few days later. Apparently there’s a reason receptionists are not supposed to say anything about anything. I shared with B what was said and between my family, friends and church, we likely have had close to 1000 people praying for me. The term “mass” leaves much to the imagination and by my own uneducated misunderstanding of a great many things, I figured I’d be dead before the end of the month with the mention of a “mass”.

We went to see the surgeon and she immediately examined me, said my uterus is the size of a cantaloupe, and went into scheduling a hysterectomy and she never mentioned “mass.” I asked if the mass would also be removed with the fibroids and hysterectomy. Is it cancer? I think she was confused and said she’d be right back. As she looked at my chart as she walked back into the room, she said, “there’s no mass, there’s no cancer.” Praise God! Because my level of worry made me sick. Literally.

Here’s the other screw-up…. The whole process of going to the ER, filling the prescription, taking the prescription, only to realize when I finally reacted with an allergy five days later from the blotchy skin, that I had hives despite the warnings all over my profile at the hospital as well as the pharmacy that I’m allergic to the primary ingredient in that particular iron product. It’s really a comedy of errors at this point with stinking everything becoming something. So it really has not been unreasonable to anticipate my life being over shortly by something ridiculously silly like a known but ignored allergy.

When I called the pharmacy and asked about the ingredients, that employee apologized immediately because she said they shouldn’t have sold me that and asked me to get some benedryl immediately to counteract the allergy. Everything else has gone wrong, so why not this too?!? The sales employee saw the flag, got a supervisor to override the allergy flag when she looked at it and the supervisor ignored the flag and sold it anyway. My poor husband. He was pissed that the pharmacy missed the flags. Then the supervisor called me and she apologized up and down after my husband had a conversation with her. I think he made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. Kidding. B never loses his temper when he is communicating a frustration with anyone. While he doesn’t yell or make a scene, I’m confident he shared his grave concern of the employee repeating her egregious error with another customer.

I guess God isn’t done with me yet. Because there were several opportunities in last five weeks for Him to figureatively “pull the plug,” yet here I am… thank you, Lord. The hysterectomy is Friday and I’m anxious to report what happens next.

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One year ago…

My PCP diagnosed me with anemia. A few months later, I received the hypercalcaemia diagnosis from my endocrinologist, quickly followed by an Osteoporosis diagnosis and put on a drug that might cause me to lose a tooth or two. I want to be off that drug ASAP. Despite all the cumulative crap I’ve been dealing with since ‘17, I finally have a sliver of good news to share.

My endocrinologist at my July appointment basically threw-up his hands and said he’s sending me to an ENT because my symptoms don’t match my numbers, but he believes there’s something indicitive of a tumor, although the thyroid and parathyroid ultrasounds and nuclear medicine tests revealed nothing. My downward spiral of symptoms going from a pretty healthy patient (minus the MS) to going straight down a toilet as my gait in just a few months became that of a 90-year-old trying to be purposeful with each labored step.

Last weekend at church, as I walked to my vehicle and I heard someone behind me and glanced back to see who it was. The older gentleman has always reminded me of my late grandfather and I stopped so he could catch-up to me. He said he had never seen me walk so slow. I laughed and asked if it was really that noticable. Then he went on to explain how he’d always seen me actively chasing the little ones all over and then said he was keeping me in prayer. I tend to be guarded about sharing anything specific, but last Sunday morning, I was confident that the Holy Spirit put it on my heart to share with a few people at church that I was scheduled for surgery December 15 for a pararthyroidectomy.

My endocrinologist did send me to an ENT, who after viewing all the pictures, labs and radiology reports, sent me to another ENT. Well that ENT sent me to his ENT, who is head of the ENT department at the university in town and his MA was able to schedule me for an appointment to see him a week later. I told B I was tempted to cancel the appointment because I was tired of wasting my time and being referred and referred to another doctor, and another doctor, etc. B asked me to keep the appointment and if I still walked away after the appointment feeling dislcouraged and like I wasted my time, then we would seek other treatment. Funny how I get so frustrated that I might have some extreme tendencies to for example, jump off cliffs because it just makes more sense to me to do something drastic , ya know) and then B has this level of discernment that can reel me in and produce peace with a few words.

Well that ENT, about 60 seconds into the appointment, said he had viewed and studied the pictures of my parathyroid and explained he believed at least one part, potentially two of the four-part parathyroid had tumors. I asked him how long he had specialized in ENT studies. 30 years. Only 30 years!! Then he said, “ I’ve seen this before, these symptoms and pictures . I’m confident if we do the 15 minute surgery to take out the parathyroid, that you should start feeling better almost immediately in the recovery room.” And with those few words, those tear ducts started filling up. You might remember that this girl does not cry…. her eyes sweat.

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Ongoing Variables

Prior to the five day Lemtrada treatment in ’16, a team of lab consultants and vampires phlebotemists took eight vials of blood along with the contents of my bladder to establish my base-lines for what my normal numbers were. My thyroid, and red and white blood cells were all completely within a normal range in that analysis two weeks prior to the Lemtrada commencement. Even with Multiple Sclerosis, all these were very much within the range labeled “normal.” I’m explaining this because the following will be somewhat of a brief meaning of the physiological changes that occurred following treatment. We knew of the potential side effects that could happen and from reading the disclosures, there were definitely adverse side effect occurances. With the information that MS could be eliminated through the treatment, I saw the treatment as a calculated risk.

Well, I became the Lemtrada anomaly. My neurologist received reports following those monthly labs to show how my body continued to respond to the treatment. About five months post Lemtrada my thyroid started showing things were changing so off I went to an endocrinologist who put me on medication to control the overcompensating hyperthyroid and a few months later, it became hypothyroidism for my underactive thryoid. Apparently my thyroid couldn’t make up its mind.

In the middle of all this the endocrin diagnosed me with Hashimotos, with vague instructions to stay away from gluten. I thought for a second that that was going to be easy to stay away! How silly was I? Once I researched gluten and found that it was in bread – I love baking bread – and that gluten is in so many of my favorite things {read as nearly everything} many candies I enjoy that include red licorice. But then once I became intentional to stay away from gluten for a month, which began in February 2019, things changed. Those chronic gut aches finally ceased. Over time, gluten-free has become more of a staple in grocery stores as gluten-free snack options are more available. While all these changes started in me and I needed to create my new normal , I was delighted to discover gluten-free snacks in stock with Amazon Prime. Did I mention Gluten-free chocolate covered pretzels?!?! Yum! Simply delightful.

Then a couple months later, the medication changed back to control my hyperthyroid’s overactive antics, but that didn’t go well but after all the nonsense, my numbers finally leveled-off. Then, of all the obscure causes why I didn’t respond well to the prescription, my endocrin said I was allergic to the dye in the prescription pills, so she wrote the Rx in such a way so my pharmacy filled the Rx with non-dyed pills. But then my encodcrinologist moved to Sweden and I was not responding well to the medication anyway so I opted to elimininate the idea of finding another endocrinologist. I didn’t really like her. My first appointment with her was weird. She asked many questions about when and how the MS was diagnosed and in that I explained that auto-immune was in my genes so it was definitely in my genetic make up to rear it’s ugly head. The doc’s take-away was telling me that I missed my calling to go to medical school and figure out why my MS was affecting me and why auto-immune put a target on my family or why Lemtrada screwed up my physiology. Apparently her playbook for me was to discover why I should’ve become a world-reknowned doctor who discovered a cure for MS. I’m not kidding or exagerating about one iota of this.

I would love to say I fired that doc, but timing was such that when I decided to not see this endocrin any longer, she went MIA over-seas. I took the opportunity to be in control, which I should’ve done at the beginning of all this nonsense and researched thyroid supplements and those most highly rated on Amazon. I read many reviews and ordered one supplement. I took for a couple months, but then after I decided that chronic diarhea, even as a temporary side-effect really sucked, I ordered a different highly rated supplement. And “Behold! No chronic diarhea? We had a winner!” Said Jenn after taking it for a month with no unwelcome side-effects. So with the supplement, I felt decent and have continued taking it for a few years now.

Then last September, my (now remember I had to agree to monthly labs for five years following Lemtrada.). Things started changing again with my physiology and my neurologist called and asked me to take a copy of my labs with me to see my PCP. What’s changed this time? I started feeling sick in mid-September ’20. Those labs said I was anemic. Apparently, as of February I’m no longer anemic, but if that’s true why am I still experiencing heart palpitations? Coincidentally, I just felt lousy. This coming December, it will have been five years since Lemtrada ended, but changes were still happening. My internal system has allegedly flushed the toxic chemical cocktail from my body, but things are going awry. For a couple years I put reading my Bible on hold while I was working through my anger at God for allowing our first foster placement after two years with us from birth, be sent to an unknown distant family member in St. Louis.

Perhaps the stress from that situation was another culprit for making my health go sideways. Whatever is going on, I feel like I’m in a fight for my life right now. My new Endocrin tested me for a list of about 25 things in December. A few of those things included conditions related to osteoporosis because with my initial intake appointment with him, he looked at my prior bloodwork and saw that in my urine, there is a high level of calcium, which isn’t normal. My body is leaking calcium. I’m too young to have osteoporosis. Which means I will need surgery to put a stop to this and have my parathyroid removed. I sought a second opinion and that doctor was in agreement that the parathyroid is indeed the problem child. I have an appointment for a bone density scan which should confirm the need for surgery and with the parathyroid removed, it should put a stop to the “calcium leak.”

https://youtube.com/watch?v=X1eMZWiOJ0a0&feature=share

Last June I began reading my Bible again and it’s timely that I am reading Job in the middle of my own health nightmare. God is faithful. I’ve seen and experienced healing in myself and others in years passed. But I’ve doubted him so much and prayed for my own end in order to to be rid of what I know will likely be temporary pain and discomfort. The pain and chronic discomfort that I’ve felt in the last six months is like nothing I’ve experienced before. God healed my MS in 2005. He healed my Dad’s cancer and continues to keep it away. So how dare I doubt his goodness?!?! One of B’s clients has a mom who is also a believer and she told my husband she had a dream about me and that she received a word that I would be healed. But like the Isrealites and their chronic complaining through the desert for 40 years for an 11 day journey, I have to keep my faith and remind myself that like Danny Gokey’s song, I “Just Haven’t Seen It Yet.” The light at the end of the tunnel has become faint, but I have to have faith that my struggles have not been in vain.

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Too big to not share

With everything going on and my ever increasing #MSinducedmemoryproblems, I have to share this while I’m thinking about it or “POOF!”  it’ll be gone and I’ll forget again because #MultipleSclerosis is playing hardball with my short-term memory retention these days.  We’re at T minus 10 days until I start the #Lemtrada round one treatment.

Monday morning last week, B #husband #love texted me shortly after he got to work to say that he had some big #news and would share when he got home, but I was busy with the #baby #love and then getting #cleaning stuff done around the house #clean #addict and then POOF, my husband’s text was forgotten!  That thought was gone and I didn’t think twice about it.  I had dinner ready and Baby was fed when B came home, so he changed his clothes #relaxation and then we immediately said a dinner blessing.  He was anxious to share whatever it was and I’d forgotten about the big news so I hesitated and put the burrito #dinner back on the plate.  At his job, B’s an #art #mentor for mentally handicapped students and a student’s mom had called first thing that morning to let the staff know her son would be home sick that day, but as long as B answered the phone, Mary said she had something to share with him.  She shared with B that a few days before, #God had placed on her heart to fast and #pray for me, but she didn’t know why.

Now, my #health is generally not a topic of conversation for either of us with strangers, especially for B at work, where unless I’m experiencing a symptom like vertigo that has required him to be home to care for Baby, other than a few people, no one really knows the rough issues with my #relapsingremittingms that rarely require him to be home, thankfully.  B said that at one point, he had shared with Mary, who is also a #Believer, my testimony of walking again #miracle after being in a wheelchair for years.  You must remember I do not cry, but my eyes occasionally sweat, mostly from allergies #denial.  B then shared that a few days after fasting and praying for me, God told Mary I was going to be #healed.  Initiate single eye-sweating program.  I felt very #blessed that a person I met only once, might feel a burden to fast and pray for me, but I said nothing, then he repeated, “Jenn, Mary said God told her you’re going to be healed soon.”  Level-up.  Initiate inadvertent dual eye-sweating sequence…

So, in no way did I believe I could deserve something so big since I already received such a significant blessing years ago allowing me to walk again #amazing.  It’s like I think my blessing bowl can be filled only once in a life-time.  It’s definitely a process to consistently stop negative thoughts and immediately redirect and recognize those thoughts are inspired by the enemy telling me, “You don’t deserve ___.”   I must stop such thoughts many times each day.  My husband is fantastic to gently remind me that #Godismerciful and doesn’t use a pay-for-play method of forgiveness or blessing.

What?!?  But I already was healed from having to depend on a wheelchair 11 years ago!  #miracle  Oh no-those sweat-glands in my eyes failed in a big way and my eyes began sweating profusely.  I was confused how I was deserving of such a magnificent #blessing. I have a performance-based blessing mentality so I’m actively working to clean-out many years of negative internal-dialogue.  I am still working toward recognizing performance based blessing in no way resembles my merciful and loving Savior.  #nonsensestopshere I must be conscientious to make sure I do not repeat those methods with our foster #babyblessing,  who my husband and I very much hope to #adopt.

I always use speaker-phone so my hands are free to do other mindless tasks like fold laundry while I “chat.”  Unfortunately though, while my phone was on speaker a few months ago, B overheard everything loud and clear so there was no misinterpretation of conversation lecture verbiage about consequences I’m apparently still suffering, making B get a sour taste of that performance-based affection.  “Now I know why you operate with a pay-for-play mentality.  I’m so sorry, Sweetheart – I might get it now.”  Things might have the ability to stick and set the tone for one’s dysfunctional internal dialogue for years, but it really is changing.  #praiseGod #Jesussaves

I’m excited because as this Lemtrada treatment situation has unfolded over the past few months with God opening doors for my grant application to be immediately approved for funding the treatment, my faith steadily increasing and doubt finally gone and being at peace that although risky, Lemtrada is in fact the vehicle through which God will deliver healing as Lemtrada is the only treatment able to heal previous MS damage.  #peacethatpassesallunderstanding  This is exactly where God is guiding me and with healing, I believe He’s also preparing me for great things.  Lord, I’m ready now.  #amen

 

And of course, GO HAWKS!

Jenn

 

 

 

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Stop self-diagnosing and seek professional help

I woke in the middle of Friday night to a very loud crash and shot out of bed when I noticed my husband wasn’t next to me.  I ran to the bathroom and said B’s name.  “Are you alright, Sweetheart?”  There was no response and I turned on the light.  He was on the floor.  His forehead was bleeding.  He had passed out and came-to as I was talking to him.  The situation was terrifying.  I asked him what was going on, if he had a stomach ache?  Should I call 9-1-1?  He was sweating profusely.  He said no to calling, but he wanted needed to get back in bed as he was dizzy and very disoriented.  B is several inches taller and heavier, but I tried to help B stand-up the best I could and as it appeared he made progress in his steps.  I reached to push the bathroom door out of the way and B fell again with another crash.  What was going on?  Something was clearly very wrong and my mind began racing with “what ifs?”  
B was again unreceptive to me calling 9-1-1 as he had no thoughts that his life was in jeopardy, but asked me to start taking notes about how he felt because we’d probably need those later.  I got my tablet, opened the appropriate App and started typing short-hand as fast as I could.  B shared what types of symtoms started when and I sought a second opinion from that handy web-based MD App, plugged in symptoms and coincidentally, the App agreed with my own assessment.  The thing is, I really say that the App agreed with moi, tongue-in-cheek because neither B, nor I are medical professionals.  

I shared the other day that I’m back to white-knuckling everything…  And then this situation with my wonderful husband’s health at stake, just about sent me over the edge.  Why?  Currently, we have custody of a growing 6-month-old baby, whom we hope to adopt in the coming months, although I’ve been clear with B that I’m fine with her being here as long as he remains healthy because I am terrified to be a single parent.  Terrified.  We’re also actively pursuing application approval for me to receive a fairly new FDA approved MS therapy that has the potential to repair much of what MS took from me many years ago and then add-in all the other nagging, problematic issues of my our life and I’m a clear-cut case for a nervous breakdown.  About a year ago, I started having somewhat regular panic attacks when my/our circumstances or coming events become overwhelming.  I had my first panic attack last fall before B took me to the airport to visit my family, another one when we gained custody of our foster baby – give me some grace as we’d never had children, another panic attack when our baby’s drug-dependent mom accosted me in early spring and each week thereafter for the next few months until I finally came to realization that God’s angels surrounded me and baby D when her mom got in my face, then the start of another attack as I fretted about B the other night as I watched him go back to sleep, worrying.  

I’m so glad my husband is willing to go to the doctor when things are not right.  First thing Saturday morning, he went to do a walk-in and was seen almost immediately.  He said the PA did a full exam and shared her assessment, but that he’d need a CT scan Monday morning to get pictures of the condition she suspected.  But with insurance, the CT scan copay would be $1100 and B said, “No.”  So he’s been telling me because we don’t have that available, there must be another answer.  And B also keeps telling me that instead of it being about his health, perhaps it’s entirely about ME and my need to put my faith into trusting God and resting in him instead of burdening myself with worrying about things over which I have no control.  B has three goose eggs where his head hit the tile and he’s confident he didn’t get concussed, but all things considered, I think the gooseeggs are minor in the grand scheme.  

Our pets are so at-ease about everything.  I mean, they’re intuitive and seek to comfort when one of us is not well, but they don’t wring their paws with worry.  Dear God, thank you for my husband and thank you for protecting him when he fell.  Thank you also that this situation was not worse and please help me in my faith. And please help me to be like our pets and be at peace, Lord trusting and being at peace in you as they trust in us.

Have you had a similar situation with your spouse?  How did you prepare or deal with this type of situation when you were in it or after the fact?  

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Our world has been sufficiently rocked.

No, really.  Two months into the new year – by the way – tangent warning, I really hate resolutions – read last new year’s entry rant why I have never made a resolution because if I want to make changes, I just do it and do not require a calendar date to keep a countdown, keep me motivated or keep me accountable, etc.  What I did do was make a commitment to myself to become active again in addition to my existing regimen of weights and stationary biking.  I swam competitively through high school and college, but recently determined I’d do something different and start running. Because I could.  For years, I’ve been scared to try because of that whole stint in a wheelchair for five years, but got over myself and tried to run and guess what?!  I did.  My husband has always been my biggest and best cheerleader and talked me into being fitted for proper running shoes based on the correct support for our surrounding terrain.  I did get fitted, then researched price, ordered and as an added benefit, those running shoes are even the colors of my Seahawks!  Yay for me and GO HAWKS!!  But the colors were never even a real consideration.  So those new running shoes arrived and I initially wore them at the gym on the treadmill, assessed and was confident that I could in fact run.  I mapped out my running route in the neighborhood to start the following day and then God ripped the carpet from under me and said, “Jenn, I have other plans for you” when we received an unexpected call later that evening.

You might recall a previous post about a year ago that I finally shared with my husband the snapshots that I’d seen for the prior twelve plus months.  Remember?  After I shared that little tid-bit of info, B essentially sat me at the table with a bright light shining on me to question me and determine how serious I was,then after the FBI- style interrogation, he determined I was on the up and up because that’s how completely unexpected it was for B to hear me mention, “Well maybe we’re still here because we’re supposed to adopt a child.”  Eleven years ago, after the failed attempt to adopt a baby from China, when a year into the process we were declined to adopt because of my MS, the subject of children in our own home had become the topic of which we no longer spoke.  So imagine how unexpected the suggestion nearly a decade later…

As Christians we seek God’s will and pray for God’s prompting for major decisions, but with my ‘epiphany’ we were even more resolved to make sure that this vision was really from the Almighty.  The weeks following the ‘interrogation’ were filled with prayer and research and then in July 2015, we began the 10-week journey to become licensed for foster to adopt through the state.  In addition to a plethora of info, we obtained CPR/First Aid certifications,  reinstalled the pool-fencing, had two home-studies, installed the necessary magnet locks and fire-extinguishers, obtained a crib and the path was smooth-sailing, confirming yet another answer that what we were doing was indeed, God-led.

However, what had become disappointing after completing the class and list of tasks was the continued delay of getting licensed since our social worker had estimated that would happen before the new year, but we did not hear a thing for weeks later.  One of our class members had set up a closed social networking group that was created for our training class only.  Many of our class-members posted pictures of their newly acquired foster munchkins.  I may be kind of sort of admitting that the green monster had more than likely, undeniably and most definitely bit me.  Hard.  I’m blessed to have a spiritually strong husband with excellent discernment.  Most of the time I operate on logic, but there was nothing about this situation that ever spoke logic, so that overwhelming left-brain-ness went right impulsively emotional on me.  B helped me realize that the green monster’s name was “Obama” when I had this sense of missing out on my fair share, but once again my wise husband pointed out that this entire process was about stretching our faith in God’s timing by not taking control where those control-freak tendencies might have in the past.

Back to that unexpected call…  Our licensing social worker finally called in February that the center had received a baby.  A baby!?!  A baby.  A baby was never on my radar because those visions were always of a toddler.  But what then came to me was that our licensing SW said in class was that “adoption may not happen with your first placement…,” but I also thought this could be good experience for both of us.  B had those same thoughts, called the case worker, we asked many questions, after which we prayed and determined we’d pick-up that baby the following morning.   Talk about a world-rocking situation…   Most people have nine months to prepare for a newborn.  You know that whole thing of what to expect when you’re pregnant?  We had 12 hours.  But, here we are weeks later, very much operating as ships-passing-in-the night-zombie-mode, if that is a real condition.  We are sleep-deprived starved and ‘conversations’ have become limited to Neanderthal-like grunts and groans of exhaustion.  Lord, I apologize to any Neanderthals out there who read blogs, let alone have the wherewithal to take offense at my very tired sense of humor.

Next you might read about the monopoly of over-priced “Baby” targeted gear.

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I am the worst blogger.  Ever.  

Updating and sharing…  I get so caught-up in doing irrelevant tasks like decorating the house (as I should have done years ago) and baking and currently researching to understand trends, that when I’m riding such a wave of momentum that I cannot stop or maybe I don’t stop?   Shortly after I completed the ‘making our house a home’ ordeal back in early April, I was able to again join a gym.  I’ve missed that daily habit for several years and when my MS improved back in ’05 and we were still in WA, I joined a gym and enlisted the help of a trainer who coincidentally also has MS, and provided me with a detailed program of cardio exercises, strength-building and toning exercises for me to keep some level of strength.  But, since moving, I really had not been in a gym in years.  I’m thankful most of the strength that I’d built remained during my gym absence and I was able to work the same major and minor muscle groups each day that I did earlier, so it took only a couple of weeks to get back into the habit in 2015.  So once again these activities became part of my current routine with lifting four days a week, and doing between 7-10 miles of cardio on my recumbent bike at home daily.

Another project that’s had my ongoing attention is getting our pool ready for Pool-Season.  During winter and early spring, there’s a minor level of maintenance required except after days of excessive wind and leaves blowing into the pool a few days each month.  We had a couple of weeks of windy weather in late April, which resulted in a slightly cloudy pool from all the dust and then the vacuüm stopped working, but was not clogged so I enlisted a professional to diagnose our pool’s problem.  I didn’t know what I didn’t know and I hate to claim ignorance, but there were a few steps that went ignored with our pool maintenance.   So after cleaning the filters and getting ALL the appropriate  equipment, with my newly acquired knowledge of ALL the steps, the pool is running just fine for the coming summer Pool-Season, which now that we’re consistently involved with our small group from church and they’re aware of our pool, there are definite expectations of us hosting pool-related barbecues/get-togethers.

Also relating to Pool-Season, my hair is short again.  Long hair gets hot on my neck and I gripe about it for a month, even with it pulled-up in a pony-tail and I finally give in to getting it cut.  It’ll grow back, unless I determine the shorter do is a keeper…  Another thing is for years, my sister has been on me to watch Mad Men and a couple of weeks ago, B and I tried it a third time and well…we’re finally in.  Jon Hamm is gorgeous, which has nothing to do with anything, but have you seen “Million Dollar Arm”?  He’s definitely also a DB in that film just like he is in MM…  And Peggy?  Why didn’t anyone catch-on to her being pregnant?  I called that long before she even started showing…  Speaking of pregnancy, my sister is due in August and we’re once again attempting to adopt, but this time is different so more on that later.

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Let’s talk about intentions

Merriam Webster’s website (2015) defines intention as a noun and “something you aim to do” or a “purpose.”   I believe that most people hope and aim to do their best and make intentions / commitments accordingly, therefore one might say that, “They had the best INTENTIONS.”  I occasionally hear and read emails from or about people admitting to an event or something they intended to do, but obviously failed since the word was in the past-tense.  Failed intentions are quickly given a pass because that wasn’t their, let’s say it together, INTENTION.  The word is over-used and loosely-used to excuse an over-commitment (lie) /  bad behavior or a failure.  Now I’m confident that there are a great many who will call me judgmental and say I lack tolerance of people’s situations and go on to say that I must be perfect, blah, blah blah…  I am far from perfection, but as a Christian, I try to do better than the day before and never over-commit.  I was once one of those obtuse folks who over-committed and later canceled last-minute because I had the best of intentions to participate in making some donated goodies, for example, or however I committed only to later realize I committed to an activity in which I aimed to participate, that I really never had any intention of being involved. Okay, now get over yourself because you wouldn’t be that defensive if you weren’t also guilty of this.

At one time, I intended / committed to make cookies every Sunday for our old church.  It was a small church and I needed to make only seven dozen cookies, which I often made every Saturday-night for the next morning.  Considering how much I love baking, it was a very small act of service, but there came a point a few months later after doing this every weekend when I became bored and would cancel because I just didn’t feel like baking.  Granted I had health issues that were becoming a contributing factor in this, but I should have resigned from my commitment ahead of time instead of being proud and stubborn.  I spoke with someone about this and Mickey pointed out to me that intentions can go either way – we either do what we committed to do or we intend to not follow-through.  When he further explained that it’s either/or  or pass/fail, my eyes were opened more widely because I think like many, we think our intentions outweigh outcomes.  But they do not.

About intentions in marriage…

Commitments / intentions should be as solid as your marriage vows and upheld.  You make a commitment to your spouse and you should do whatever you have to to make sure you do not fail.  Obviously, emergencies happen and must be accommodated, but a commitment remains a commitment.  Over recent months this has become somewhat of a thing in my marriage.  We’re working on 19 years together, but it’s been fairly consistent during only the last couple of years that B’s intentions to do something for me have some sort of ‘optional’ clause to not follow-through, perhaps?  It is a bit hurtful, I admit, but because he intended to follow-through, I think he thinks that he should receive points for the intention, I guess?  Now these broken commitments are small in the grand scheme and are not by any means divorce-worthy.  However, it remains hurtful that I might have become somewhat of a sacrifice, as he makes sure he follows-through with each commitment beyond us.  Perhaps he doesn’t want to appear a flake among coworkers or peers?

It’s interesting that people have such varying perspectives on intentions with spouses.   For one individual, an intention to a spouse is as good as a signed contract and they will move mountains to ensure the intention/commitment remains unbroken, but for another, who sees their spouse as ‘just my husband’ or ‘just my wife,’ they have given themselves the option to fail [Stop taking your spouse for granted!], when it should be the complete opposite as they should elevate their spouse’s importance instead of diminishing it.  Commitments to a spouse to fix an appliance or prepare a platter of goodies for coworkers or whatever the task is should be more important than commitments to non-spouses since you’re married to one and only work with or for another.  I’ve never understood those who say things like that because essentially, they have lessened their spouses role and therefore their spouse’s value.  Many years ago, I attended a work-related event with my husband and when his boss walked-up and asked who I was, I smiled and said, “I’m just B’s wife, Jennifer.”  B’s boss responded with, “Hmm, you mean you ARE his wife and not just his wife…”  That might have been eye-opening for me because there I was speaking condescendingly about myself.

Now, I must explain that my husband is NOT a monster.  I think at times his focus gets wrapped-up in whatever project has his attention and that he doesn’t see the looming ‘something’s got to give’ warning sign up ahead.  Unfortunately, that something is most often me because typically I am an understanding wife I attempt to be an understanding wife.  I suspect there might be a few others in a similar situation and am curious how you address a concern with your spouse or do you prefer to avoid it?  What is your best approach?  What is your coping-mechanism?   I like wine, which may or may not be relevant in this situation, but I believe that I just stumbled upon another blog-post idea…

roses are red

~Jenn

 

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Fresh from the oven – favorite seasonal treats

But why don’t more people call fall, “Autumn?”  Does the silent ‘n’ create enough confusion to deter people from using this term for the season?  Since I already do it because I can, I propose that more people practice calling the season ‘autumn.’  That said, autumn also is the official beginning to my baking season, which lasts through the winter months.  I realize we’re nearly halfway into winter, but with our temps being in the mid-high 60’s and low spring-like 70’s by this weekend, I feel like I’m being forced to place a moratorium on baking these treats after this month, since they’re typically associated with the last few month’s holidays.  But knowing myself as I do, I won’t allow a little technicality like a month name create a ‘cease and desist’ baking order.  Besides, my husband is year-around my most loyal fan for everything I bake and he’s not picky about what I bake or when.

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Here are my Gingersnaps – all perfectly round and cracked like their supposed to be, huh?  And they taste as delicious as they look.  I’ll be making these at least a few more times before the end of winter.  If you’d like to make these Gingersnaps:

In a bowl, add 1 C packed brown sugar, 3/4 C shortening 1/4 C molasses, 1 egg, 1 tsp baking soda, 1/2 tsp cloves, 1 tsp cinnamon, 1 tsp ginger and mix with an electric mixer on high until smooth.  Add 2 1/4 C flour and mix on medium speed until thoroughly combined.  Set oven temperature at 350 degrees.  In a separate container, add 1/2 C sugar.  Shape the dough into 1-inch balls and roll in sugar.  Place balls about 2 inches apart on baking surface.  I always use a Silpat baking mat (see link below) placed on top of a baking sheet to bake cookies or rolls, which makes greasing a pan unnecessary.  Silpats are a little pricey, but they are worth the investment.  My Mom gave me a set of Silpats probably 10 years ago and I have still not needed to replace them.

http://www.amazon.com/Silpat-AE420295-07-Premium-Non-Stick-Silicone/dp/B00008T960/ref=sr_1_1?s=home-garden&ie=UTF8&qid=1421800185&sr=1-1&keywords=silpat

Another recipe I make over and over during fall and winter is Pumpkin Bread.  It’s not ‘punkin’ as my father-in-law says. It’s ‘pumpkin.’  I’ve gotten used to him saying it the way he does, but it’s lazy and no different than those who pronounce the word ‘jewelry’ as ‘jury.’   You night notice that ‘pumpkin’ has an ‘mp’ an not an ‘n’ and that ‘jewelry’ has several letters that say accessories versus a group of 12 peers who determine a criminal’s fate…  Big difference, huh?   But I apologize for that little tangent…

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Pumpkin Bread is another fantastic treat and you might try to make some like this:

In a bowl mix 1 Cup canned pumpkin, 1 Cup packed brown sugar, 1/2 Cup milk, 2 eggs, 1/3 Cup shortening, 1 Tbsp baking powder, 1/4 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp baking soda, 1 tsp cinnamon, 1/4 tsp nutmeg, 1/8 tsp ginger(cloves may be substituted – either are good), and mix on high until mostly smooth.  Add 2 Cups flour and mix on medium speed until thoroughly combined.  Set oven temperature at 350 degrees.  At this point, you can fold-in 1/2 Cup nuts (I like pecans) and / or 1/2 Cup raisins.  Pour batter into a greased loaf pan (9x5x3) and bake for about 60 minutes.  Allow loaf to cool to room temperature before slicing.  This delightful Pumpkin Bread is also tasty if you spread a little butter on a slice before inhaling.  Pumpkin Bread dough as it bakes will also, like Gingersnaps, make your home smell fragrant.  Enjoy making these recipes!

What are your favorite fall & winter baked goodies recipes?   Please feel free to share your seasonal favorite recipes.

~Jenn

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Have I mentioned our pets talk? In English?

We have a cat, Inferno, appropriately named prior to learning just how full of piss, vinegar and attitude he really is.  My husband has been the primary decision-maker behind the choices of our critters as he is able to quickly assess if a new pet will ‘fit-in’ with the existing members of our brood.  Inferno is a very affectionate little guy, but compensates through ill-behavior.  Thor is our oldest kitty at 17-years and affectionately known as the Mama’s Boy.  One afternoon Thor attempted to explain to me just why Inferno is a bit snarky.  Thor said that he overheard Inferno explaining to the newest and youngest kitty Zephyr, “Showing affection is a sign of weakness, but the Mama (Me) loves it, so you should accommodate as your schedule allows.”  And yes, surprisingly our pets have schedules.  When I heard that portion I was as surprised as you are considering the twenty some hours they sleep each day.  Oh, you’re more surprised that they talk?  Come-on – your pets do too – you just have to listen.  So anyway, Thor was telling me all this as I was scratching his tummy and behind his ears one afternoon.  He tells me a lot of his co-pet-gossip while doing this.  Thor told me he also heard Inferno talking about how rough it was growing-up in Compton and how putting ‘caps’ in other cats backsides was the daily norm.  I said, that surprises me that Inferno told you that considering Inferno went from his birth-mama to the Humane Society where we adopted him the second day he was there.  So much for the rough streets in Compton…

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Inferno is mid- top-row

So more about Inferno – I came home from grocery-shopping one morning and while putting away items in the pantry, I saw something in my peripheral-vision and did a double-take.  Inferno was walking around the kitchen on only his hind-legs, wearing a silk leopard-print smoking-jacket and carrying a coffee cup that says, “Talk to me before I finish my coffee and I’ll cut you.”   I stopped what I was doing and asked Inferno where he acquired the robe and he explained he was inspired by watching soaps and then went to some sort of surplus auction.  Yes, I also had the same next question about where he got the money for the aforementioned, robe and (since when do cats drink coffee, right?!?!) cup??  Apparently, there is an underground financial system for household pets companions.  Inferno insists on being called a ‘companion’ instead of ‘pet,’  because he CHOOSES to grace us with his presence on a daily basis.  Yes, I agree with you that he seems to be a tad entitled.  He’s also a cat-nip junkie -that’s what those green-flecks are that cover him in his picture above.

The underground pet companion financial system is based on a pet’s companion’s residence zip-code, so the better, the neighborhood, the better the (should I refer to the money as pet companion) ‘income or benefits?’  And from where is this underground money created?  It’s through their own selling and trading of ‘lost, stolen or missing’ collars, leashes, squeaker-toys, raw-hides, dental chew-toys, coveted canned-foods soft treats and pill-hiding treats both obtain the highest bids), and of course grooming shampoos, brushes/combs and clippers (all obtain the lowest bids) since many pets detest grooming.

Once I finished putting-away the groceries, I picked-up Inferno and sat on the sofa with him.  While he was on my lap, I scratched under his chin (his favorite) and he confessed that he wants to be nominated for Animalooza.  Inferno further explained that an Animalooza Award is for the best household pet companion in homes with more than one pet companion. Yes, he’s very, very entitled…  So we talked about everything he does right – purring and being affectionate, playing nice with and being (somewhat) of a good example with his younger brother Zephyr and then I stopped scratching him and asked if there was anything that he thinks he might do better.  Inferno said, “No, I’m good.”  I pointed out that his shenanigans in terrorizing Hi-5 must stop if he wants such an award nomination in the future because as of now, such a nomination would be misplaced.  Then Inferno proceeded to explain that, “Hi-5’s counseling sessions with the blank wall behind the curtains are for Hi-5’s mental improvement.”  I pointed-out, “The walls are blank, therefore, no one is counseling Hi-5,” and Inferno said he knew that, but Hi-5 doesn’t know any different.  “Since Hi-5 is not really getting counseled,” I told Inferno, “You must stop charging Hi-5 for the bogus sessions.”  Inferno argued, “But a guy’s gotta make a living!”

Despite providing pointless and overly charged therapy sessions for Hi-5, Inferno still amuses me.  He is sweet and has traditions like waking me at 4:30 am so that I can lift the comforter when crawls under the covers to curl-up next to me and sings (purrs) us both back to sleep.  The silk smoking jacket is butt-ugly, but Inferno confidently wears his bad taste in lounge-wear and we might kind-of love his smart-alec tendencies.

Do your pets talk?  Do they have alter-egos?

~Jenn

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