The Back Burner Again

Mental health has fallen out of the focus of politicians and the news media again.  Yes, it's very important to get the vaccine to everyone ASAP and, all of the disenfranchisement and racial disparity in our country should be in the spotlight.  However, literally, everyone needs mental help with the prolonged abnormal life we have all been living for a year.  According to Dr. Fauci, things might be closer to how they used to be by August.  Of course, the global warming winter storms in states like Texas that aren't prepared for weather conditions like that slows shipments and deliveries of everything down - regular mail and highly sensitive packages like the vaccine.  Supposedly, we might have a normal Christmas.  Ugh.  

I've noticed that in our household, pandemic life has affected me the most.  Our daughter goes to private school and has been attending face-to-face the entire year.  They started at the usual time in August and have had a regular holiday schedule all year.  There are restricted gatherings at lunch, recess, Mass, and aftercare, but she still gets to see friends and have a semi-normal routine.  My husband has had almost no change in his daily routine briefly when all of this began.  At my office, we have split staff so that if there's an issue, contact tracing will be easier.  That makes communication between my assistant and me challenging and at times very frustrating.  I also prefer to work in my office and not from home.  I need that separation of space, but also don't have the space to set up an office at home.  

Being at home more allows for getting more chores done during the week instead of on weekends, but I also feel like I am doing more than anyone else that lives here, and harbor resentment sometimes.  When my family members seem not to notice, I get more aggravated, which leaves me not enjoying our time together like I should.  Lately, I feel like that's more the norm than not, and that's not good.  What all of it boils down to is that regular people like me - some boring white lady who is still securely employed, don't have to worry about eviction, or starving for food, and doesn't need to homeschool her kid, still needs mental help.  

It's not just the chores and project weight I feel so often that's getting me down; I haven't seen my friends in person in almost a year.  Sure, there have been a handful of times that I have had a lunch date or even gotten a drink, but other than getting together with family over the holidays or chatting with a coworker in the hall on days that I'm in the office, I am now a homebody.  That's a stark contrast to pre-pandemic me, and against my nature.  My best friend and I have literally not seen each other since last March and we only live ten minutes away from each other.  We talk on the phone once or twice a week, but it's not the same.  We need to go out to lunch or dinner and have a few drinks together without the interruptions of call waiting or curbside pickup on the way home from work.   

Lastly, while I believe it is important to sanitize and be more hygienically responsible than we all used to be, even just for allergy's sake, I am tired of wearing a mask.  Don't worry - it's not something I'm going to stop doing until it is deemed safe by the CDC or a trusted expert, and I'm not joining the "you're taking away my personal freedom" club by any means.  It's like wearing a winter coat and layers at this time of year or even carrying a purse.  It gets annoying after a while.  

Living with Intention

Most of us make new year's resolutions and promptly discard them because we lose motivation.  I'd be lying if I said things were any different this year, BUT I'm hoping that because of what my goal is, it will help.  

Living with intention means that I will think before I act, make a final decision, or speak.  It's been increasingly apparent that our kiddo hears almost everything we say even if we're whispering.  There are a lot of expressions that I personally have used over the years that she has begun repeating.  While they might be funny at home, or not funny but tolerable to us, we also know she would get in pretty big trouble if she said these things at school.  

When she was little, we worried that her dad's conversational cursing (he works in a brewery, and they curse all day long) would be an issue.  He was really good at quickly breaking that habit, but then I turned out to be the one with the bad mouth!  It's still a challenge to bite my tongue when I'm frustrated; however, we keep telling her not to repeat those words here or at school. There was one day that she spilled her water cup all over the dining table and she said something like, "Christ dammit!".  

It's not always words, though. I have been wanting to decrease my waist size for years and setting the intention to eat mindfully and get more physically active are the only ways that is ever going to happen for me.  I notice that if I write down my mental to-do list, including intentions, I am more likely to achieve those goals.  Thoughts like: "Am I really hungry, or am I just bored?"; "Am I just shoveling food into my mouth, or am I eating slow enough to notice when I'm full?"; "When is the last time I got up and moved (my fitness tracker reminds me once an hour)?"; "When is the last time I drank a full cup of water?".  If I can get myself in the habit of mentally checking in, then I can also be more present for my family members when we're all together because I've been taking care of myself.  

Last year, those two weeks that I thought I had cancer made me face reality - we don't know when our last day here is.  Especially now with all of the new strains of COVID appearing, staying in the present moment is of utmost importance.  I want to be more mindful of my contributions to my health so I know that I am taking an active role in my well-being. 

Flying by the seat of our pants is fine for social events, but for everything else, I am asking "what brings me joy?" or  if a certain outcome or choice is "speaking to me".  So far, my husband and our girl have not caught on to this concept in the least. It is my resolution, though, not theirs.  

Holiday Traditions

Y'all, I could have sworn I'd done a post on this another year, but hooray for you and me, this is a first!  

A lifetime ago, my college boyfriend's mom asked what my family's holiday traditions were.  I didn't know what to say - we didn't really have any!  She seemed to think I was an even bigger weirdo after that. The only thing I can think of to this day is that I remember my parents having the entire family over on Christmas Eve - aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, great grandparents, great aunts and uncles, and so on. There was a dining table literally full of food and my cousin and I were in heaven with all of the presents that were just for us (our younger siblings hadn't been born yet).  I have no idea how many times that happened, but it definitely all stopped when my maternal grandmother passed away (I was 8 that year).  

My husband and I are pretty fly by the seat of our pants people and by nurture so is our girl.  Nevermind that I plan programs for my day job; it's like I'm two different people when it comes to work and home.  Anyway, the last ten months have really put a damper on our weekend adventures.  I don't know that our former lifestyle would be considered a tradition of any sort anyway.  

Thanksgiving and Christmas both have our extended familial gathering traditions, though.  Thanksgiving day is always spent with my in-laws and the menu is identical from year to year.  Whichever day we get together with my side of the family (see where the non-commital trait comes from?) post-Thanksgiving day, my sister-in-law is the main chef and we gather at she and my brother's house.  Christmas Eve is always spent with my family in hopes of my future house becoming the hub for that event.  Christmas Day is always spent at my in-laws with the identical meal that we have at Thanksgiving.  

This year my side of the family is trying a tapas approach to the holiday meal.  My sister-in-law grew up in southern Florida and her family incorporated a lot of Hispanic culture in their holiday celebrations.  They used to do a late-night dinner with a spread of Cuban food.  I guess it's the Hispanic version of the Creole influenced midnight Mass and Revillion dinners that many people do in New Orleans. 

On that note, I'd like to try a seafood Christmas dinner one year.  When I was pregnant many years ago, my husband and I drove to see the Christmas Eve bonfires along the river.  That is definitely something I want to load up the kid cousins for one year.  Oh, and Celebration in the Oaks is an annual event that I have brought from my childhood into adulthood.  

Other than that, I like some non-traditional Christmas tunes and I am totally open to goofy Christmas card photos and some kooky ornaments, but I also love the classic songs, vintage looking cards and decorations.  Is your family traditional or do y'all change it up a lot?  What is the magical ingredient that makes it feel like the holidays for you?  

Love in the Time of COVID

I went to the same school in kindergarten as I went to fourth through sixth grade.  While I was there, my big crush was on David Mueller.  His dad runs the WWII Museum in New Orleans nowadays if you're looking for context.  My childhood friend, Noelle, and I would chase David around the playground at recess.  One day my favorite teacher "pulled us over" and gave us a verbal scolding for essentially harassing David.  She wasn't wrong; we basically were since we were so obsessed with him. I don't know that he really minded, though.  When Noelle and I were in college he came to visit and must have called my dorm room six times before I got home from class.  When I finally went over to Noelle's room to visit, he was all flirty.  Our moms were close friends all through our childhood so everyone was in on what was happening from day one.    

All of my life I was boy-crazy.  When I went to a different school for first through third grade, I had a crush on a boy named Jesse (sorry, don't remember his last name).  He was always nice to me, but he had a girlfriend named Joy.  I hated her and she was always snooty to me.  Lol!  Young love. 

Our girl had a "boyfriend" when she was in daycare.  He'll be referred to as "M".  They go to different schools now, but every now and then they'll see each other at a birthday party, or have a Zoom call.  The other day, she and I were getting home from school and she announced that her neighborhood friend that we'll call "J" was "so sweet and so cute".  Later that evening at dinner, she said that they give each other "kissies".  I had to ask what that meant - thankfully, it's kisses on the cheek and nothing more.  The weird twist is that J's dad and I were involved several years ago.  The kids don't know that, but my husband and J's mom know that.  It's all fine since they're young and innocent now, they just can't get together in high school.  😉 

Other than my crushes all through school, I didn't actually date until high school.  My husband, on the other hand, had all the little "girlfriends" from a young age like our daughter.  I find it entertaining but also a little baffling mostly because I don't want our girl to grow up too fast.  I was playing with Strawberry Shortcake, Cabbage Patch dolls, and Barbies at her age.  She loves her Barbies and Legos, but also seems to come out of nowhere with some outfits she wants to go play in when it involves J.  

I'm sure it's all fine.  Today they acted like street musicians and sat at a patio table playing guitar (him) and ukulele (her).  Other times they build forts and play house in the treehouse his dad built him. There's nothing I need to worry about, right?  She's got another crush at her school, too.  She said that she doesn't know which boy to marry!  Y'all.  Boy. Crazy. up in here!

Getting Older

Eight years ago today, my husband and I had our first date.  We met Halloween night as strangers in a bar, and within 24-hours we intentionally met again in a cemetery to photograph candlelit graves for All Saints Day.  After that, we went to eat dinner at a local restaurant (which we will be visiting for a meal today, as we do every year) to celebrate.  That same restaurant is where he proposed to me one year after our first date.  Our girl was born two and a half months later.  

We were in our thirties when we met.  I think a big reason we were as social as we used to be pre-COVID times is because we were still dating in a way, even though it was no longer just the two of us.  If you did the math, we didn't have much "just the two of us" time before we became parents.  Another reason we used to take so many family field trips is because of FOMO (fear of missing out).  I have an invisible to-do list that is made up entirely of experiences that gets longer and longer, the more I find out about what's going on.  

Now that we are both in our early forties, we have noticed a significant change in our bodies.  We both need to lose weight for one, but we are also finding ourselves with more aches and pains.  Keeping up with our first grader is physically challenging at times.  Current lifestyle restrictions have slowed us down a lot so we are home more and take weekends much easier than we used to.  That's probably a good thing for multiple reasons, and it's also likely made us more aware of body issues.  Ibuprofen, Aleve, heating pads, and ice packs are becoming our good friends.  

I feel guilty that we aren't able to keep up as younger parents might with their energetic children.  My parents were in their mid-thirties when I was six years old. Some of our daughter's friends have much younger parents.  On the other hand, most of our friends had kids later, too, so we're all in the same boat as far as energy levels and aging bodies go.  In that light, I feel less guilty.  Our girl loves us no matter what and doesn't know the difference between us now and us eight years ago.  

My husband gave me a card once that said, "I wish I'd have met you sooner so I could love you longer".  I wish that, too.  And there is no one else that I'd rather be getting older with than him, aches and pains or not.  

Scary and not in a Halloween way

I wasn't sure if I wanted to blog about this, but then I thought, why not?  As with any of my posts, maybe I'll help someone in some way who may be going through a similar situation.  

Full disclosure, I haven't felt "right" in over two years.  Each year I get my wellness exam and have a full workup of the blood tests that go along with that.  Other than thyroid levels being slightly off one time, things have looked pretty good so the not feeling right wasn't making sense.  For the majority of the last two years, I just figured the thyroid medicine wasn't doing its job and I was frustrated with Hashimoto's and hypothyroidism in general.  

This year, my GP spent more time with me at my annual visit because she had a resident with her.  I was able to mention issues that I normally forgot to bring up and would subsequently wave off. Those "little things" led her to add a few different orders to the panel of bloodwork, which ultimately led me to see some specialists and get to where I am now.  

I have had asthma for most of my life so being short of breath wasn't something I was overly concerned about except that getting up the stairs at work had become more challenging (I live in a two-story but don't get winded at home).  My allergist had given me a new inhaler to try at the beginning of the pandemic but it wasn't always doing the trick. That led to me having a chest x-ray, a CT scan, and seeing a cardiologist. None of that showed anything he was concerned about, which seemed to be the end of things with the GP.  Frustrated, I took matters into my own hands, and I made an appointment with an endocrinologist.  She and I didn't hit it off the first visit, but after lots of questions and more bloodwork, I also had a brain MRI and an adrenal CT scan ordered. That triggered a phone call from my GP wondering if I was handling all of the news well enough.  

One of the findings was that I had a baseball-sized cyst on one of my ovaries. I also had some hormones out of wack. Finally, things started to make sense and fall into place. Within about three months I also had an endoscopy with a gastroenterologist, surgery for the ovarian cysts (yes, there were more that hadn't shown up in the scans), a visit with a surgical oncologist, and a visit and exam with a vision specialist. That visit with the oncologist is exactly what you think - for about a week or so, I thought I had cancer.  Technically, all of the tumors in my body that showed up on the scans can grow and spread like cancer cells do which is problematic for the surrounding organs.  I'm not Googling to get this info - one of the specialists actually said, "technically, this is a form of cancer".  

We cried a lot, I told most of my close friends and close family. If you weren't in that number, please don't be offended.  It's not easy to drop that bomb on anyone and the last thing I wanted to do was be Debbie Downer for your day/weekend/vacation.  We never told our daughter because how do you explain something like that to a little person?  Thankfully, when I directly asked the oncologist, "do I have cancer?", he said, "no", but if I want to consider genetic counseling at some point he would back me on that.  

The current status is: I have a tumor in my pituitary (enlarged gland and headaches), a cyst on one of my lungs (labored breathing at times), a tumor on my pancreas (no symptoms), and a benign tumor on one of my kidneys that's been getting watched for the last three years now.  The pancreatic tumor will also get watched annually, and my next eye doctor visit is in 6 months.  In mid-November, I will see a pituitary specialist for the first time.  New medicines, more scans, more blood tests, and possibly more surgery are in my future.  Did I mention that the endoscopy and the laparoscopic surgery were on the same day?  

So, that's what's been up in our house. We are relieved that I am currently cancer-free and although things are still healing from the laparoscopic surgery, I feel much better now that the giant cyst is gone.  The thought of not being around my child or my husband at any point is incredibly sad to me, but thinking you may only have a few years left with them is utterly heartbreaking.  I hope the second chance I feel like we've been given is long-lasting and not a false sense of hope for something worse to come.

 

Drowning Either Way

Last week was rough.  In fact, it seems as though the last two or three weeks have been getting progressively worse.  The thing that has been changing most is work, but I also think in general that I'm getting more depressed.  

Yesterday I cried.  Then I met up with my peeps at Liz's Where Ya At for frozen adult beverages in the new yard.  Today I'm better, although still not myself.  At one point yesterday afternoon, I was feeling philosophical and journaled about the two worst years I could think of - 2005 and 2020.  

The year of Big K, I moved across the country for a guy. We had long-distance dated for a year so we thought we were ready to be roommates and started talking about a wedding.  We learned very quickly that was not the case at all, but I had already given up everything to make it work. Admitting failure was really hard even though it was a very unhealthy relationship. That was March of 2005.  Katrina happened in August of 2005.  My parents and brother and aunt and uncle all helped my grandpa clean out his house that was destroyed by floodwaters near UNO.  It was heartbreaking and it was a terrible turning point for him.  The one small bright spot I remember from that year was that it sleeted on Christmas.  My brother and I were both at our parents and we went out in the yard and took a picture of it collecting in a tree.  

This year, while we're not literally drowning in floodwaters (although we may be after this week thanks to two storms in the Gulf at once - wth, Mother Nature?!), I feel like we're drowning in stuff.  Mental stuff, physical stuff, emotional stuff.  All the time we have at home and to think nowadays actually makes me sadder because there is no place to go when you need a quiet or a mental break.  Then I see all the crap everywhere that is mini-projects taunting me because I don't want to be doing chores all the time when I'm not at the office.  Before COVID times, we would go on field trips or weekend adventures to get away from our tiny, cluttered home.  That doesn't happen anymore.  

While I'm still not as depressed as I was in 2005, this year seems to be dragging on and phase two is going to be our way of life even into next year.  I hope that is not actually the case, but I also don't have much hope for an entrance into phase three without a step backward into phase two before it's all over.  That's my Debbie Downer for the day.  I'll be over here painting a sign with red glitter to bring some sparkle into my life that says, "FFS".  If you don't know what that stands for, you probably shouldn't ask because you won't like it.  It's my current attitude/mood.