tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58927415966867861252024-03-05T04:38:03.011-08:00Becca's PeaceBeccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-801363836321403822012-05-19T19:11:00.002-07:002012-05-19T19:12:33.521-07:00Someday My Yogi Will ComeI have a dream of a good man, a man I look up to, a man who is confident and can intelligently stand his ground. I dream of a man who has an open mind and an open heart. He’s playful, caring and protective. He reads, he recycles, he sometimes gets irrationally angry about the government, humanity’s impact on the plant and inhumane treatment of animals and people. I dream of a man who doesn’t agree with everything I say or do, but respects me anyway. He’s a vegetarian. He is the best of caretakers when I am sick. He has strong arms. He loves my pet rats. I dream of a man who can take care of himself. He’s smart, but isn’t afraid to admit when there’s something he doesn’t know much about. He introduces me to new things. He drinks herbal tea. I dream of a man who is a yogi.<br />
<br />
Is this an impossible dream? Where do you find such a man in a world of video games, cable television, processed food, steaks, the media’s portrayal of women, loud clubs, drugs, alcohol and competition? I wonder. I wonder if my standards are too high. I always leave room for men to be men and for me to be a woman. It would certainly be more interesting if I was a lesbian, or even bi, but the truth is I like men. Therefore, I accept that they are going to act, speak, think and react<i> like men</i>.<br />
<br />
Today I ended a friends-with-benefits relationship. The friendship remains, but the benefits have been put to a stop. I always played by the rules and never let me feelings get too involved. That said, this deal was made when both me and the friend were in vulnerable places and he knew I liked him. But I was willing to put the feelings aside for a little comfort. That, of course, didn’t last, especially when we started becoming more than just friends with benefits. Once I felt those feelings for him crop up I asked him to either commit to me or I was putting an end to it. He was getting way more than just benefits from me and all for free. When he said he didn’t want any sort of romantic involvement with me, I disentangled myself.<br />
<br />
So here I am, a free woman. I’m looking forward to this. I can keep my focus more on myself and my life. I’ve always enjoyed being single and, really, I’ve been single this whole time. But with the amount of emotion, time, effort, and money I was putting into my ‘relationship’, I might as well have been someone’s girlfriend. Now I am taking care of myself instead of putting my efforts into something with no reciprocation. I am fully engaged in living my life. And what a beautiful life it is.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-41094676589871077592012-05-16T15:17:00.002-07:002012-05-16T15:17:56.683-07:00Yoga FestivalsEleven months ago I received my third liver transplant (I have a rare liver disease called PSC. See pscpartners.org). I’ve recovered fairly well and while I did all the doctor prescribed physical therapy like a good patient, I also included as much yoga as I could. I knew that yoga would better help my recovery on more levels than riding a stationary bike in a gym full of injured people while a therapist wrote down my progress in a file. For years I had been doing yoga in my home using DVDs and books for instruction. Around two months ago I decided that I was in good enough shape to try attending classes. It was a scary decision because I had only been to a handful of yoga classes and few private ones in my nearly ten years of doing yoga off and on. Would I be able to keep up? Would I get caught up in yoga bliss and accidentally overwork myself? Could I afford it? Would the teacher be knowledgeable and kind? Would the other students be friendly to even though I wasn’t skinny and didn’t have very good health? Would the studio be a positive, uplifting place?
Long story short, I found my studio and my teacher. I keep up with classes and my mind, body and spirit respond with greater health and serenity. I’ve achieved a dream I thought impossible for years and found it to be so much more attainable and accommodating than I’d expected. Why hadn’t I done this sooner? Now I want to continue expanding my practice by trying new and more frequent classes. Also, it’s almost summer and that means yoga festivals.
I’ve always wanted to go to a yoga festival. I always dreamed of going, even looking at the schedule and picking out the classes I would take, what hotel I would stay at and what vendors I give my business. It was a nice fantasy, but it never became a reality. I was always too sick or else I was on the transplant list and couldn’t leave the area. For most of my life it has been dangerous for me to travel alone unless it’s to the Mayo Clinic. Medical emergencies could happen in the blink of an eye or I could wake up one morning unable to get out of bed and have to stay there for anywhere from two hours to two months. This is still the case, even post-transplant. I almost always need to have someone with me who can lend a helping hand when needed.
So you can see my dilemma. My heart yearns to go but my body is full of fear. Too much sun, heat or allergens and I could spend the whole time with a migraine. Being too far away from my hotel room could spell disaster if I’m hit with sudden, severe symptoms. What if I end up missing all the fun? And what if all those beautiful yogis look down on me because I’m sick? I know that part of this is useless fear but I also know that part is justified from experience. Out of town renaissance festivals and camp meetings have almost always guaranteed me some medical mishap. Just the amount of fatigue and pain I deal with on a daily basis make these things a challenge.
If I knew people who were going to be at these festivals who knew what they were doing and were willing to help me then maybe this dream could come true. Maybe after years of hoping and dreaming I could actually attend a yoga festival. The pros are that the yoga would help me to keep my health in check or at least help me deal with any symptoms. Most likely the food would be acceptable to my body (by which I mean gentle, healing and vegetarian) and the soul-nourishing activities would help calm my fears. I guess I’ll never know until I try!
So here’s my request: if you have any advice or other help you would be willing to share with me I ask that you please do so. I live in Nebraska but my dad lives near Denver so any of those awesome sounding festivals in Colorado are what I usually drool over.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-27899473857408783722011-11-28T20:16:00.000-08:002011-11-28T20:19:39.603-08:00Introversion. Also, boys.They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I hope they’re wrong, for my own sake. But that’s all I’ll say on that. <br />After a season of turning outward, of doing things externally, being more extroverted, the other end of the teeter totter is slowly dropping. My life of extremes is a balance, just over time. Perhaps it’s the colder weather heralding a time of hibernation. All I know is that my desires turn more than ever towards self-reflection, imagination, quiet activities and solitude. I must keep from getting too lazy, though. Physical therapy seems to be getting harder and I weaker, so I will do my best not to neglect my physical training completely in the face of a growing pile to to-be-read books, drawers of creative projects, vocal music, my guitar, meditation, Asian food, and a full queue on Netflix. <br />I’ve completely busted NaNoWriMo this year (again), but I have written more this month than usual, so that’s something. Though no excuse, the boy-drama in my life this past month has been very stressful. Not used to having to deal with the male race except on a professional (medical) level, re-entering the dating world was an exciting and shocking experience, and still is. Normal girls grow up with male friends near their own age and at some point down the line a few show interest in her as more than a friend. She might date a few guys and she learns through the years something of what to expect or at least a more specific view of what she wants. I didn’t have that, I had books, rats, an empty house and multiple diseases. So here I am, having learned innumerable lessons about life but few about love. But I’m learning and better late than never, I suppose.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-69716096855682769962011-08-16T16:03:00.000-07:002011-08-17T16:04:23.946-07:00Break Please?No sleep tonight (again). When do I get a break? When will my body regulate its temperature, have less pain and discomfort, look healthier? When will I get free enough from the fatigue to have a somewhat normal day? When will I wake up without nausea swirling, threatening in my stomach? If God bestows these gifts to most people, why not me? Will this pass or will I, despite all efforts, live and die like this? I feel death in me, waiting, watching for me to lower my defenses and for a physical opportunity. I thought the transplant would mean years more of life, most of it reasonable healthy. Now I’m not so sure. I’m determined to keep my will to live strong and to enjoy the beauty in life. Yet still, in the background, I prepare myself for death. Few will understand this. Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-82932717045511807662011-07-27T16:29:00.000-07:002011-08-17T16:33:57.651-07:00Liver TalkFor <a href="http://www.goodsearch.com/search.aspx?keywords=organ+transplant+memories">some background/proof </a>on how organ recipients learn about their donors through cellular memory.
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<br />July 27th, 2011
<br /> I’ve been beginning to get to know my liver a lot better lately. I’ve been doing more visualization, Reiki and dialogue with my body so I’m sure that’s widened the channels a bit.
<br /> The energy of my liver is definitely female, but then I already knew it was from a female donor. She’s got a lot of sadness and a bit of fear after these first rough experiences in my body. But she, like I, has lots of motivation to just go for it and live. She also tells me that we may not be out of the dark yet, but to not be afraid because things will work out. Not sure if “work out” was meant in a broad, universal sense or specific and personal.
<br /> Monday night every time I visualized my liver it seemed to shrink in fear and pain. Nothing I did seemed to help so I meditated and did Reiki on it which felt loving and warm. A few hours ago (Tuesday night) I got a lot of flashes of the donor and her life and suffering. It was like my liver was purging some of its painful past. For the first time I really, truly started to realize that a beautiful person had died and here I was with a physical gift, a sign that they were, in fact gone, yet alive in me. I feel her distinct personality melding with mine in such a way that empowers us both. It’s a very difficult thing to explain, though. It’s not like I have some other person talking to me inside me head.
<br /> I’ll try to explain one aspect of it. Sometimes people will talk about parts of their body like they are separate entities. Like, “I’ve been telling my head to stop hurting but it just won’t listen.” If you can delve to the base of the relationship with that area of your body then you will have a small glimmer of the relationship between a person and their new organ, especially if they are expanding that relationship through meditation, visualization, dialogue with the body and other healing methods.
<br /> Anybody can have a deeper relationship with their body, but the one between a new organ and the recipient is very special and complex. You have adopted from outside the family and now become mediator so that everyone gets along, is happy and does their jobs. You are the mediator in everything you do for your body from good nutrition to anti-rejection drugs.
<br /> I love my new liver and am more grateful for it that can be expressed. Soon I should write to the donor family.
<br />Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-69771904993646541302011-07-23T17:55:00.000-07:002011-08-17T16:08:21.105-07:00DessertIt’s back to checking glucose levels, giving myself insulin shots and worrying over food choices. The Solumedrol (super Prednisone) infusion yesterday really hit me hard. I’ve been feeling icky ever since. Lots of pain, nausea, tiredness but also restlessness from the higher blood pressure and glucose levels.
<br /> I got a little bit of exercise today. Mum and I spent an hour or so at Hobby Lobby looking for some art project materials to distract us. I got some watercolor and drawing supplies. I hope Mom makes use of them, too.
<br /> That’s about as much as I did for exercise besides a bit of yoga in the morning. My legs have been giving me some bad pain all last night and today and I’ve got a headache. Otherwise I would have spent some time in the exercise room here at the transplant house.
<br /> Reading about how Treya handles her diabetes in “Grace and Grit” I am feeling more inspired about managing all this until things go back to normal (blood sugar goes down).
<br /> It’s hard because all I want to eat are desserts, onigiri and Spirutein shakes. The shakes are okay, the onigiri in moderation, but, oh, the desserts! I’ve never really liked desserts but steroids have changed all that. It’s been very hard to ignore all my cravings but I want to do everything I can to make myself as healthy as possible.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-4965332393576404662011-07-21T17:44:00.000-07:002011-08-02T17:45:22.804-07:00Summer ShortsI’m so glad I’m reading “Grace and Grit” by Ken Wilber and that it came into my life when it did. Treya’s journey in many places mirrors mine or teaches me a lesson that I was trying to figure out. <br /> Today I put on one of the new pairs of shorts I bought. They are around three sizes bigger than what I was wearing last summer and yet they were still too small. My stomach has been more distended the past couple of weeks and then there’s the general swelling and, of course, the Prednisone. I’ve gotten fatter all over, though not heavier on the scale. For the first time in years I have arm flab. Part of me is glad about this after all the time spent worrying about being too skinny and now eating enough. The other part of me gets scared of staying this size or getting fatter. Yes, I’m at a healthy weight and my stomach will be swollen for awhile yet and I’m on Prednisone. I don’t like how I look at this size and as for how others think of my looks…well, I just want people to see me at what I judge to be my best. Or at least acceptable. Really, I just want to be comfortable in my own skin. I also want to present myself as someone who practices what they preach (i.e. a healthy lifestyle for mind, body and spirit). I want to overcome this fear and leas a healthy lifestyle out of honesty, not fear.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-89622519391683084432011-07-20T17:42:00.000-07:002011-08-02T17:44:11.202-07:00Rochester FlowersThe flowers in Rochester are in full bloom. There are different flowers than the ones I see each summer in Lincoln. I’m rather surprised at the Rochester flowers’ hardiness. We’ve had days of hot, humid weather. The kind where even the outdoorsy people are seeking the solace of dark, air-conditioned rooms. The flowers, however, seem unaffected.<br /> Mom and I went to the Mall of America today. I was thinking that the distraction and exercise would do me good since I’ve basically been lying in bed the last couple of days with the overwhelming fatigue, nausea, aches, chills and sweats. But, of course, I got caught up in things at the mall and ended up so exhausted (and hot!) that I gave myself a migraine, plus extra pain. I seriously need to figure out how to pace myself. I might have done a bit better if I had gotten in a good meditation this morning…<br /> Also, I’m supposed to only be taking two doses of Imitrex a week. Period. No ifs, ands or buts. And since my neurology appointment I’ve had two doses. I don’t have the rain to blame anymore so I have to break the chain, otherwise I’ll keep getting daily migraines because my brain expects the drug.<br /> Last night I was thinking about how central physical pain has been in my life and how I still have fears and expectations about it. As in, expecting that if I have to sit in the sun all day I’ll get a migraine. And then that thought or expectation generates fear of the pain to come. Some of my expectations are true, some can probably be overcome. It will take a lot of self-discipline, though. Meditation helps, too because then I learn to disassociate from the pain. I notice it, but I don’t have to be identified with it. This is a crucial journey for me as pain has been a major factor in my life since I was little and pain will most likely continue to be a part of my life until I leave this body.<br /> Tomorrow are my last appointments unless the doctor decides to do another biopsy. This depends on how yesterday’s blood work looks. I hope we can go home, at least for awhile. I miss everyone and everything, Mom even more and I hope we can go for her sake. Also for Ginny who is very lonely. I got her some things at the mall, though they can’t really soothe my guilt over causing so much stress these past five weeks. Daily I must learn to forgive myself for things I cannot help.<br /> I’ve been thinking a lot about what I should do with my life now, provided I become relatively healthy. It stresses me out because there are so many different things I want to pursue but, not having experienced them fully out in the “real world” I don’t know what would be the perfect fit. I know, then, that it’s all in God’s hands and I just need to follow my heart day by day. The right opportunities will be presented to me when I am ready. <br /> But then think of all the projects I already have going or need to get done! Day by day, I tell myself. Life is very different now and it will continue to change. I must be gentle with myself in this time of change and adjustment. Day by day, moment by moment.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-47086824701525026332011-07-05T17:40:00.000-07:002011-08-02T17:42:05.474-07:00Books books booksYou would think I’d know better than to overload myself with reading expectations, especially when I’m doing the reading for stress relief or for learning to care for myself better. I become so overwhelmed by what I “should” be reading that I start too many books at a time and can’t give anything the attention it deserves or that I want to give it. Thus, days can go by without me getting any substantial reading done and I feel empty and frustrated. <br /> So, I am affirming that I will keep it simple. Yes, there are a lot of wonderful books in the world that I would undoubtedly benefit from but I will go through them one or two at a time and trust that Goddess will bring the right books into my life when it’s the right time for me to read them. “When the student is ready the teacher will appear.”Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-77476056614892405952011-04-23T19:40:00.000-07:002011-04-23T19:43:31.710-07:00Mothering The Body“In a way, mothering is the task before us all-to nurture ourselves while vigilantly nudging ourselves forward. This requires a balance between self-discipline and compassion.”-Natalya Podgorny, Editor’s Note, Yoga International Magazine, Spring 2011.<br /><br />I know this concept well. Not because anyone taught it to me but because it is a lesson taught by human experience. Those who learn and apply this concept experience a balance in their life between rest and ambition (or whatever term you choose to express the healthy stress in your life). As someone with chronic pain and an incurable disease this concept applies to my life most often in a physical, illustrative sense.<br /><br />I must nurture, care and listen to my body, treating it with love and respect. Sometimes this means forcing myself to rest for an hour in the middle of doing housework and sometimes it means taking it easy for a whole day. The self-discipline side of things come both when I “force” myself to take a break and nurture my body and also when I tell myself I’ve been lying down long enough and I should go outside and take a walk (I know I’ll feel better for it). <br /><br />This balance comes from a healthy relationship with our bodies and our minds. The mind-body link must be established through listening to our body’s signals and learning from past experiences. The practice of meditation comes in handy here when we need to slow down and let our body tell us what the next step should be. For instance, I might tune into my body which is saying, ‘remember how good a nice stretch feels in the morning?’ and my mother-self says, ‘yes, let’s greet the day with spirit and movement’ but my child-self says, ‘nah, let’s just sit in bed until we feel more inspired’. Here is the mother nudging her chick to the edge of the branch to fly. The chick’s spirit wants to fly, her body wants to fly, yet her mother still has to give her a nudge in the right direction. <br /><br />Sometimes I fall off the bandwagon for a day and I realize at the end of it that I really wasn’t listening to my body and spirit. Maybe I ran off with all sorts of things to get done when I should have taken more breaks or maybe I stayed in bed all day when I should have gotten in some more activity. In pain rehab at Mayo Clinic we called this ‘moderation and modification’. Everything in moderation-activity in moderation and rest in moderation. Modification means fitting your moderation to meet your body’s individual needs, which brings me back to the practice of tuning in and listening to the body. Everyone’s body is different and they each have their own individual needs. Only you know what is truly healthy for you and you can only find that out by experience and listening to your body. <br /><br />Nurture and love your body by mothering it as you would a young child- with compassionate discipline. As I continue to practice this I know that, even though my body has its share of troubles, I am giving it the best chance I can to overcome them.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-9703148333933061542011-04-06T22:40:00.000-07:002011-04-06T23:20:30.387-07:00PoetryWell, I tried:<br /><br />Not a Poet And I Know It<br />by Becca <br /><br />Today there was sun<br />and chammomile tea<br />I got out of my room<br />to be seen and to see.<br /><br />"Comin' out of my cage<br />and I've been doin' just fine"<br />is the lyric I think,<br />so those words aren't mine.<br /><br />Not very good at this poetry lark,<br />but thought I would try <br />and at least make a mark.<br /><br />I turned on the light<br />to write this all down.<br />Adjective, verb,<br />conjunction and noun<br /><br />Getting this far,<br />I think it's apparent<br />why poems are something<br />I usually dare't.<br /><br />Is that even a word?<br />I think that I'll stop<br />before I get caught<br />by the poetry cop.<br /><br />The Visit<br />by Becca<br /><br />No one ever visits <br />the sick anymore.<br />Why am I the one going<br />to other people's door?<br /><br />This isn't a game,<br />it's not trick or treat.<br />Life isn't so tidy,<br />or simple, or neat.<br /><br />All alone by myself,<br />day after day.<br />I would love to just see you.<br />Please, won't you stay?<br /><br />I don't really think<br />I'm asking that much;<br />not making excuses,<br />not using a crutch<br /><br />Almost five years<br />is a long time to wait.<br />So you'll find I'm still here,<br />it's never too late<br /><br />To just drop by<br />for a quick spot of yea<br />to help pass the time,<br />together with me.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-54592240765434410152011-03-19T12:53:00.000-07:002011-03-19T12:55:44.325-07:00'Neil', A SongI know, I'm not very good and these videos are certainly not the picture of musical perfection. But it was really just for fun.<br /><br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qTs3qqimqlU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9vNYJAW1iBY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-19090937215903076852011-03-17T02:20:00.000-07:002011-03-17T02:23:57.836-07:0012th LiverversaryMarch 17th, 2011<br /><br />Today is my twelfth year with this liver. I was transplanted on St. Patrick’s Day twelve years ago. I remember it well. It was 1999 and my mom, sister and I were living at my Gramma’s house. My parents had just separated and my sister and I were going to my mom’s old school in her hometown of Lincoln, Nebraska. I was currently sleeping in the basement on the fold-out couch. I heard a small noise and was instantly wide-awake. I don’t think I was sleeping so well those days due to the disease and stress of the move. I sat up in bed and grabbed onto a frog stuffed animal I had been sleeping with. I thought I heard the phone ring and looked at the clock: Six AM. Who would be calling so early? As I waited to hear another sound that might clue me into what was going on I heard my mom’s voice very faintly. She sounded like she was talking to someone. I quickly put two and two together and my heart skipped a beat. Hardly able to believe it I made my way to the stairs at the top of which was the phone and my mom. I climbed quietly, slowly and unbelievingly up the stairs on all fours, stuffed frog still in hand. My mom finished her conversation on the phone and, after hearing it I was sure. I climbed the rest of the way up the stairs at the top of which my mom’s nightgowned form appeared.<br /><br />“My liver is here, isn’t it?” I said.<br /><br />Mom, who had a strange look on her face, replied, “That’s right. Get dressed quickly and get your stuff. We need to get to the airport.”<br /><br />Soon after we were at a place by the airport called Duncan Aviation. There was a volunteer pilot there getting his jet ready to take us to Rochester, Minnesota where the Mayo Clinic was. An hour’s flight later we were driven by a charter car to the hospital. Preparation in the PICU (Pediatric Intensive Care Unit) took a couple hours. Washing in a special body wash, getting an IV started, being hooked up to all the machines and other such medical preps.<br /><br />I remember being really excited and happy. Even after saying goodbye to my tearful mother and being taken to the ER I was in a wonderland of possibility. I was getting a <em>new</em> liver! Think of how much better my life was going to be! Not to mention all the stories I could tell my friends at school.<br /><br />In the OR my eyes feasted on the biggest spread of medical equipment I had ever seen in my seven years of medical tests. A nurse was sorting huge buckets full of clamps. “It looks like she’s sorting silverware!” I said excitedly and expressed my frustration that I couldn’t stay awake and watch the whole operation. But all too soon I was falling under the powers of the anesthesia.<br /><br />After only a week recovering in the hospital I was set free to live the rest of my life. But three years later the PSC came back and so here I am today. That wonderful liver that was such a miracle twelve years ago has been turned against me, although it still fights as best it can. This liver has been with me longer than any other and we have bonded very well. If you’ve never had an organ transplant you can’t understand the special relationship that forms between the organ and the recipient. I can’t quite explain it other than to say that there is constant communication between the two entities. Not only that but you acquire a few new memories that are not yours but that of the organ’s former owner. Even things like hair and eye color change. I got my wavy hair and green eyes after receiving this liver.<br /><br />My mom never contacted the donor family of this liver and I have enquired of my social working about doing this myself. I was hesitant at first because this liver isn’t exactly being a ‘gift of life’ at the moment. But I don’t think I’ll mention that in my letter. I just want to try and express the gratitude I have towards that family for making the decision of organ donation for their child (I received an entire pediatric liver meaning that the recipient was probably younger and smaller than I was at the time). It’s really impossible to truly express thanks to someone for giving you a second chance at life when there were no other options but the point is that contact is made and this often brings the family closure.<br /><br />I wish you all a happy St. Patrick’s Day. Please don’t destroy your liver with drinking on this day. Instead, raise your glass of appropriate beverage and say a toast to life. Today I celebrate my life and the amazing privilege I was given to continue living it when my body had almost given up. Life may be hard for me these days but it is, wholly and undoubltably <em>life</em>. And it’s beautiful.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-22183147889757621052011-02-26T10:59:00.000-08:002011-02-26T11:23:09.960-08:00MarginaliaWhen I was a young teen and starting to read more voraciously than ever I ran into a problem. I had precious little money to spend on books and it certainly wasn't enough to keep up with my literary appetite. <div><br /></div><div>My sister and our close friend Jessie often read the same books at the same time. There was no money in either family to buy books in threes and so what we did was see who would pay for just one copy. As our days were spent mostly in each other's company we were able to share that one book, passing it between the three of us. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was then that we discovered a clever way of experiencing the book together. We would, each in turn, write in the margins of said book or make doodles. Sometimes the notes merely pointed out what we found funny, profound or satisfyingly romantic. Other times the notes took on a philosophical tone. As the book was passed along we would each write our own marginalia and comment on what was previously written. </div><div><br /></div><div>The books holding these notes became treasures, personalized by our thoughts, written there as neighbors to the original text. Often we would re-read these books months or years later and marvel at how we had changed or laugh at our doodles and jokes. We began to date the marginalia as we started to put in new notes. Through this process these books became more precious than ever. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now that me, my sister and Jessie have grown and have money to buy our own books the marginalia has come to a stop. I will sometimes write a little note next to a text but usually only as a reminder to myself about how I interpreted it. </div><div><br /></div><div>When I saw <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/21/books/21margin.html?_r=3&hp">this article</a>, though, I decided that my books needed far more marking up. Who knew that others had discovered the same mysterious way of communicating with other readers that my sister, Jessie and I had? A way of communicating that has a magic that Facebook, Twitter or email can ever replace.</div><div><br /></div><div>Though not quite the same, I was happy to discover that my Kindle ebook reader had a feature for highlighting and making notes on passages and that these could be shared with other Kindle users. </div><div><br /></div><div>As long as there are creative readers out there who have opinions about what they are reading I doubt that the phenomenon of marginalia will never die. </div><div><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-37578842410590114312011-02-22T09:39:00.001-08:002011-02-22T09:56:06.132-08:00Last Two Days At Mayo<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "><span id="internal-source-marker_0.5261631230823696" style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Health Update</span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I left off with Wednesday so I’ll pick up on </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">February 17th, 2011 Thursday</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I didn’t have any appointments this day so I got in contact with Dean and his sister Kathleen to see if they wanted to get together. We did a little Mayo touring. We went to the patient education center and got free DVDs and booklets and saw <a href="http://glassshallot.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/2007/12/14/mayostat1.jpg">the clear, plastic man with the light-up insides</a>. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap; ">He seriously needs some pants. The fact that this is a rather old piece of educational equipment and therefore yellowing in places does not help matters.</span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">We also went to a meditation room with a labyrinth, prayer wall and a small, circular room with prayer rugs and copied of the Quar’an in it. I completed the labyrith and waited for David Bowie to show up in stripped leggings. He didn’t show. Okay, sorry, geek joke, I know. If you have no idea what I’m talking about just Google “Labyrinth, David Bowie”. </span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; "></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Next it was on to some shopping. We ate lunch and made our way through subway and skyway to the amazing Barnes & Noble (the one that’s in the old theatre). I rather overloaded Dean with </span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">dietary information about liver disease. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Soon my friend from PRC, Jess, showed up. I said goodbye to Dean and Kathleen and continued to putz around Barnes only with Jess this time. We were both exhausted so we went back to my hotel room and acted as lazy as possible, ending our evening with a delivered pizza and TV.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Friday:</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Friday morning I got a call from Lynn, my transplant nurse coordinator. She said that the results from my MRI were back and that I had Bursitis. I had no idea what this was other than Lynn telling me I should get cortisone shots in or around the joints. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Mayo’s website says this:</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><i>Bursitis is a painful condition that affects the small fluid-filled pads — called bursae — that act as cushions among your bones and the tendons and muscles near your joints. Bursitis occurs when a bursa becomes inflamed.</i></span><br /><a href="http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/bursitis/DS00032" style="font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/bursitis/DS00032</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">That explained all the deep-bone pain then. I’m supposed to rest my legs and arms but still get some movement going on. I read that the movement shouldn’t be repetitive, though. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Soon after that phone call my friend Sage came to pick me up as I checked out of the hotel. Then we were on the road to famous author Neil Gaiman’s house! That’s a whole story in and of itself which I will post on my blog soon. Neil was so totally sweet and charming and hospitable. Looking back on it, it all seems like an amazing dream and then I remind myself that yes, it was real! Sage was awesome for driving to pick me up, then taking me to Neil’s and from there to the airport. I think she rather had fun. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">We left Neil’s house in time to make my 3:30 flight, which would have worked out if my flight were scheduled to leave at 3:30. I had misread my ticket and the flight actually left at 3:05. Lucky for me it was delayed and they got me through security quickly and said to take one of those golf carts to the terminal. After security (I wasn’t able to check my bag so I would be boarding with it riding plane side) I was told the golf carts only came every 5 to 10 minutes and I was better off just walking as quickly as I could to the terminal. But with a huge backpack, a laptop case and a huge heavy bag that only went on wheels on the rare occasion that it felt like it, my bursitis kicked in big time. It didn’t help that I got my laptop bag stuck on the edge of one of those moving sidewalks. I’m used all my leg strength to walk back to get it un-caught but it was no good. Some guy came to my rescue and I could tell he was trying not to laugh at what was obviously a hilarious scene. I was not in mood to laugh. At the end of what I was sure would be my death march I came to my terminal. The bird had flown. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">A nice lady switched my flight for me, got me a golf cart to take me to get food and wished me luck with my transplant business (I’m yellow enough now that people either avoid me like the plague or ask if I’m okay). </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; background-color: transparent;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">After I had eaten a bit of expensive, low-quality chinese food Jess came to pick me up. I basically lay in a bed at her house and tried to recover my legs as much as possible. Then Jess generously took my back to the airport for my 10 PM flight. It wasn’t long before I was home and sacked out. Because really, who cares that I had to go through all that crap at the airport when I’m gotten to meet Neil Gaiman!?</span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; "><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">P.S</span><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">. To see pictures from my Mayo trip go <a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?fbid=486862198809&id=512053809&aid=270586&notif_t=like">here</a> and look at the last 8 photos</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; ">.</span></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-53037042706296442332011-02-16T21:29:00.000-08:002011-02-16T21:31:25.300-08:00Mayo Days 1 & 2<div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span id="internal-source-marker_0.6092214970849454" style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Health Update</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">February 16th, 2011</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Tuesday:</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Had abdomminal and vaginal ultrasound. It hurt less that I had anticipated and soon I was dozing. Then it was off for a blood test and to give a urine sample. Too tired and sore to walk back to my hotel room, I napped in the sun on a couch in the Gonda building where one of the walls is a big window. Also, I had a yogurt parfait and some hot chocolate which I, of course, dribbled on my Super Liver PSC Partners shirt. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Next I saw Lynn, my wonderful transplant nurse coordinator. I gave her my first attempt at lucky star hoop earrings and an origami string (she picked stars made out of pink paper with hearts and musical notes printed on it). I was really not feeling well and just sort of moaned to her. Not too long after I saw my liver doctor, Dr. Tahlwalker. He ordered MRIs of my legs and gave me some Tramadol for the pain until we could figure out what was going on. We also discussed presenting my case before the UNOS board to see if my MELD score could be brought up a few points. He is going to talk to my surgeon, Dr. Rosen about it and he sounded pretty confident that this could be done. With my bilirubin so high, my symptoms being what they are and my high ammonia level (which is hard for me to control because I have a hard time the Lactulose) I probably have a pretty standard case. Dr. Rosen came in to say hi to me and really just said, “You look very green.”</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I gave a good amount of origami strings to the ladies and gents at the desks on the transplant clinic floor and told them to give them to people who were having a particularly hard time. But really they could go to anybody. I new creation of mine is also hanging with the other origami at the check-in desk. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Then it was time to chill and eat delivered Japanese food. The Tramadol Dr. Tahlwalker had given me was helping my pain so I had a much easier evening than I would have had without it. Tramadol is not a narcotic but is very close to one. I take as small a dose as possible as little as possible. It won’t get in the way of my standing on the transplant list. I mean, it was okay-ed by my </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Mayo transplant doctor</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">, so all is well. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Wednesday:</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">First off I saw the social worker. Got info to contact the donor family of my current liver. Basically I can write a letter just telling them how much I appreciate their sacrifice/gift and tell them how it’s helped me live a fuller life. The letter is then sent through an agency so it’s all very anonymous. The donor family has the option of contacting me back but I am told this doesn’t happen often. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Had an MRI of my legs which I, of course, slept through. Saw the gynecologist about my ultrasound but everything looks good, so that’s a relief. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">During lunch I met another person on the liver transplant list. I sat with him and his sister and we swapped stories and medial tips. We shared contact information and got some pictures together. Hopefully I can see them tomorrow since it’s a day off for me. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">So those are the highlights. It’s been very busy and I’m exhausted. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Love and Light,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Becca</span></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-33824345859539820052011-02-15T18:44:00.000-08:002011-02-15T18:46:03.090-08:00Health Update<div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Dear Friends and Family,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>As Facebook becomes more popular I have been using it to post little updates about myself (what I’m doing, my health, etc.) to keep all of you informed. However, I know a few of you are not on Facebook so I will continue with my health updates as much as possible. I’m not always forthcoming about what is going on with me on Facebook, anyway. Instead I usually just ask for extra prayers and good thoughts when I am having a rough time. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 11pt; background-color: transparent;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span>I am writing from Rochester, Minnesota this evening. I am here for my 3-month check-up (both UNMC and Mayo want to see me every 3 months while I am on the transplant list). I am hoping to have some things cleared up and made better while I am here. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 11pt; background-color: transparent;"></span><br /><p style="text-indent: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Pain control has become a bigger issue as I have more abdominal and liver pain. It is hard for me to sit up for more than a few hours, sometimes less. And lying down is rather uncomfortable as well. I’ve also had increasing pain in my joints, especially the knees and shoulders. Nausea is a bigger issue as well. I’ve also been having very bad chills (although no fever). Portal hypertension has been pretty well controlled but it’s still an issue sometimes. Heptaic Encephalopathy has been much worse as of late with my last ammonia level being 160! Note: Normal ammonia is 24-40. </span></p><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 11pt; background-color: transparent;"></span><br /><p style="text-indent: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">My MELD score was at a 23 a couple months ago but it’s gone down to 20 (lower on the list so to speak) as I’ve become sicker. My bilirubin is higher, however, so jaundice, itching, aches and digestion are worse. While bilirubin factors into the MELD score it does not count as high as, say, the INR (which has gotten a tiny bit better) and Creatinine (which has mostly stayed the same). </span></p><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 11pt; background-color: transparent;"></span><br /><p style="text-indent: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I’m going to discuss with my doctors the possibility of having my case presented before the UNOS board to see if my score can’t be brought up. I’m not sure how that will go over as I’m not currently hospitalized or suffering from any major infections. Mostly I just want to see if there’s anything to be found out that can help me be in less pain and live a fuller life while waiting for a transplant. </span></p><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 11pt; background-color: transparent;"></span><p style="text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></p><p style="text-indent: 0px; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 11pt;">Tomorrow I start appointments. I will do my best to update you all along the way.</span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 11pt; background-color: transparent;"></span><br /><p style="text-indent: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Thank you to all of you for lending your support and prayers through this time!</span></p><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: 11pt; background-color: transparent;"></span><br /><p style="text-indent: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Much love, </span></p><p style="text-indent: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Becca</span></p></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-34655968033684256942010-12-07T07:35:00.000-08:002010-12-07T07:49:27.067-08:00Health Update<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfkDjezsBLBg-FIOUXS6zbSlQEEmOac-SIqyLOt1T5gleKWhBiHpKnQYJkxs-AOSKq5DZZB14kzFyBW1UfPEbX_eV_n751V-lTIkOFtqpTSTx1TW1F6q38K-t2Jo2qlpnInRaYjCrRAcd/s1600/liver_large_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547967518463301266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfkDjezsBLBg-FIOUXS6zbSlQEEmOac-SIqyLOt1T5gleKWhBiHpKnQYJkxs-AOSKq5DZZB14kzFyBW1UfPEbX_eV_n751V-lTIkOFtqpTSTx1TW1F6q38K-t2Jo2qlpnInRaYjCrRAcd/s320/liver_large_1.jpg" /></a><br />November 29th, 2010<br /><br /><br /><br />Health Update<br /><br /><br /><br />Okay, I’m going to try to make this as simple and concise as possible but a lot has been going on and it will take some explaining. So just bear with me here.<br /><br />Life has continued to be narcotic-free. I am not 4 months clean! I go to NA (Narcotics Anonymous) meetings, have an awesome sponsor, and see a chemical dependency councilor.<br /><br />My PSC has been getting worse, however…but this also means a higher MELD score (last count it was a 21). In the past couple of weeks I’ve been starting to experience PSC symptoms more seriously. Fatigue, itching, loss of concentration, distended belly, liver pain and more active Crohn’s have been the most prevalent for me. The fatigue has got to be one of the worst. It seems like such a understatement to call it fatigue because of how completely debilitating it can often be. It’s difficult to explain to someone who has never experienced it. I guess I’d say it feels a little like being very, very anemic.<br /><br />Last Saturday my mom drove me up to Rochester where I was scheduled to finish my transplant evaluation. Mom drove back to Lincoln on Sunday because she had to be at work. I was settled in a nice hotel room with a sort of kitchenette, sofa bed, queen bed and, of course, free wireless internet. J<br /><br />The Mayo buildings are all linked together by a subway and my hotel is hooked up to that subway so I didn’t need to have a car or walk outside in the bitter Minnesota cold. I have come to really appreciate this. I thought it was cold in Nebraska when I left…it’s so much worse here. I’ve already had to buy a new fleece hoodie at the Mayo store to make up for my lack of really warm clothing.<br /><br />I had tests all during the week. The good news: my lungs, kidneys and teeth all look great. My heart looks okay, too, but as I’m having some artery problems in my liver it’s rather complicated.<br /><br />My liver rather shocked everyone. It’s very, very big. Judging by how my weight has gone up I’d say my liver weighs somewhere in the 10 lbs area. This isn’t uncommon with my disease, though. With the cirrhosis the liver gets bigger and heavier and I’ve heard of some people having their liver weighed post-transplant and it’s amazing how heavy they get. You can actually see the outline of my liver through my skin. I still have a little bit of ascites so combined with the huge liver I’m looking rather pregnant. I’ve started shopping in the maternity section. No joke.<br /><br />The pressure of the liver on all my other organs makes it hard for me to breathe sometimes and makes my stomach cramp. I have very little room for food in my stomach so I try to just snack throughout the day. Like a pregnant woman I also have to sit in a recliner a lot to ease the internal pressure. It’s hard to sit up and carry this liver around all day!<br /><br />That’s how it affects my day to day life. Scientifically, what is going on is that as the PSC infiltrates my liver deeper and further, the bile ducts close up and eventually that area of the liver becomes pure scar tissue (cirrhosis). That part of the liver is dead. According to the docs at Mayo my liver is probably more than half dead (they can’t know for sure without actually opening me up and looking at the liver). One way they know this is by a test they did to look at my heart. I have what is called portal hypertension.<br /><br />Okay, ready for an anatomy lesson? Open the picture attachment on this email. That’s a liver. See the sort of lavender colored tube with an arrow pointing to it that says “Portal Vein”? The portal vein delivers blood into the liver to be detoxified. However, when there is cirrhosis it meets a dead end because scar tissue is hard, heavy and, well, dead. So now the blood in the portal vein backs up and flows back into the heart. This can cause some bad stuff to happen. I believe the most common thing to happen is for that blood to flow into the esophagus and burst or create varices.<br /><br />Maybe some of you remember that when I was around 4 my esophageal varices burst and I threw up gallons on blood. They haven’t burst since then but the portal hypertension is putting me at a higher risk. I can sometimes feel this weird sensation in my chest and heart that I know is the portal hypertension. It usually passes within a few minutes, though. Practicing meditation and deep breathing really helps with this because it lowers your heart rate and blood pressure. I also take a medication to keep my blood pressure low.<br /><br />Here’s a good link that will give a little more info about cirrhosis and portal hypertension. http://familydoctor.org/online/famdocen/home/articles/188.printerview.html<br /><br />I talked to one of the transplant surgeons at Mayo and I asked him about living donation. He said that if I wanted to do it it would have to be done now because I was quickly becoming too sick for it to be an option. However, he said he didn’t recommend living donation for me because one, I was already pretty sick and two, this third transplant is already very risky. By using only half a liver they wouldn’t have all the hook-ups for the plumbing (remember that picture? All that stuff and more has to be hooked up in the right places in the new liver). Most of the major bile ducts and arteries running into my liver are already in pretty bad shape. The surgeon said they would be taking bits of artery from the deceased donor to put into me to replace my old, shabby equipment. What a great recycling program!<br /><br />In talking with the surgeon I learned that my chances at making it to transplant are slimmer than I originally thought. It’s great to get to know more people with my disease and compare notes and experiences with them but the other side to that is that I often hear about PSCers who die before getting a transplant. There’s still a lot of hope, though. I wouldn’t be on the transplant list if I and my doctors didn’t think there was a good chance of me getting through this. Currently my MELD score is a 21. If I can just get sick enough for it to get up to 25 I’ll be on easy street for getting a liver<br /><br />Also, new studies are being done all the time to look into PSC. It’s one of the most mysterious diseases and since it’s rare there is very little funding for studies. Someday, however, we all hope that a cure can be found. A liver transplant is only a treatment, not a cure (obviously, since I’m waiting for my third transplant because of PSC). I know I bully people all the time about this but please look into doing something to raise and/or contribute money to help find a cure. Even if you can just spread the word about PSC that will help. There needs to be more awareness. Visit http://www.pscpartners.com and do all your internet searching through goodsearch.com with PSC Partners as your charity and do your internet shopping though goodshop.com with the same charity.<br /><br />After many appointments at Mayo I was finally put on the transplant list there! I am now double listed, i.e. on both UNMC’s list and Mayo’s. This covers pretty much all the states in the Midwest. I could get a liver from any of them. That liver would then be delivered to whatever either Mayo or UNMC depending on location. Mayo gets its livers from Michigan, North and South Dakota. Nebraska gets its livers from Kansas, Iowa, Wisconsin and…um, I think that’s it. I can’t remember. But still, that’s a pretty broad range. It definitely ups my chances of getting a liver quickly.<br /><br />So, all in all, life has had to take a bit of a slower pace and I’ve had to put aside a few things that I’m just not up to doing anymore but I’m keeping a positive outlook and trying to see the blessings and joy in each day. I’m doing my best to get in the very best shape I can for transplant. Taking care of myself is a full-time job and can feel selfish and really boring sometimes but I hope that soon it will all pay off.<br /><br />I apologize to those I haven’t been keeping in touch with very well. I really appreciate the emails and whatnot. Just be patient with me. You have to understand that some days it’s all I can do to just shower and make a few phone calls. I swear I’m not ignoring you!<br /><br />A big hug to all of you for supporting me (and my family) during this time and being so understanding. Ya’ll are heros in my book and you brighten up my life!<br /><br /><3 BeccaBeccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-23969039628694633782010-11-03T15:44:00.000-07:002010-11-03T15:53:35.401-07:00Some PSC InfoDoing some online gift shopping and hoping to support a great cause? Well look no further than <a href="http://www.pscpartners.org/shop">http://www.pscpartners.org/shop</a> Funds from your purchaces go to further research in finding a cure for PSC (the liver disease I have). Having funds for this research is vital as the only known treatment for PSC is a liver transplant; and even that is often temporary (just look at me!).<br /><br />Also, on the same note, I'd like to share a link to an article about a friend of mine who suffers from PSC. It's a wonderful bit that gives a good glimpse into what it's like to live with the disease and what the disease does. I hope everyone I know reads this. <a href="http://fredericksburg.com/News/FLS/2010/102010/10032010/sandi-pearlman/index_html?page=1&______array">Click here.</a>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-29382414500010214042010-10-22T11:16:00.000-07:002010-10-22T11:31:01.907-07:00Faerie FaithFor those of you who can not for the life of them wrap their heads around my belief in Faerie, I offer the following videos:<br /><br /><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/L2wIl8Py_KY?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/L2wIl8Py_KY?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oYY1sdXmJwI?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oYY1sdXmJwI?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AX4x3Ht6pSI?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AX4x3Ht6pSI?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-57275841909394614722010-10-20T13:27:00.000-07:002010-10-20T13:29:24.180-07:00What's Been Happening2:00 PM<br />My desk<br /><br />So I made it through. I’m alive and the better for it.<br /><br />What a crazy last five days. Here it is in an acorn:<br /><br />Friday: Potassium is down despite Herculean efforts on my and the doctors’ parts. So it’s either 12 extra pills to swallow or 1 shot of liquid potassium. I’m all for the liquid so I pour some in a little measuring cup made for cough syrup and down it like a shot. Bad idea. It tasted like dead…things. I was already a bit on the nauseous side and the potassium concoction did not help (learned today that potassium supplements can upset the stomach. Why no one told me this before I don’t know.). I yelled a bit, jumped around, drank a lot of water and then made a sacrifice to the porcelain prince (read: I threw up).<br /><br />After my performance I met Aprille for lunch (don’t worry, I didn’t eat anything). This cheered me up considerably, especially as Aprille had some new anecdotes about our friends at which we laughed and flattered ourselves that we would never be as brainless as them.<br /><br />Back at home I puttered around being completely useless and nauseous. Finally my Aunt Nancy and Uncle Joe arrived from Kentucky and we got down to business. The first order of the day was tea time. Later we sauntered around Sunken Garden and then had dinner at The Cup (pronounced ‘tay cup’) and were joined by my sister Ginny/Natalie and her boyfriend Doug.<br /><br />Later I went to a great NA (Narcotics Anonymous) meeting and I asked my friend Lori to be my sponsor to which she said yes. I am very excited about this. Lori is awesome. She tells it like it is. Also, she wears gemstone jewelry and is Buddhist so I think we’ll get along together splendidly.<br /><br />Saturday:<br /><br />Shopping with my sister and Aunt Nancy=being spoiled. She insists that it is an aunts sacred duty to spoil her nieces but it was nevertheless a bit of a culture shock for my sister and I to just toss whatever we pleased onto the register. My Aunt Nancy is a very gracious woman but also a bully. Not that I’m one to talk being a hopeless bully myself. I comfort myself by saying, “Ah, it is only because I’m the oldest child” but I know it has more to do with me just wanting to be in control so I can boss my equals around.<br /><br />The Huskers played a terrible game and my poor Uncle Joe, sitting somewhere on the sidelines with other alumni had to witness it up close. Still, I think he had a good time meeting old friends and acquaintances.<br /><br />Sunday:<br /><br />After work we all (Gramma, Mom, Ginny, Doug, Me, Aunt Nancy and Uncle Joe) met at Green Gataeu for a lovely brunch. When we were walking back to our cars afterwards I found a pigeon that had been hit and stunned in the middle of the road. Vet Tech mode took over and I brought him over to the sidewalk to assess his injuries. He was not too badly hurt but the shock eventually got to him and he died. I stayed with him while calling animal control first to get help and then to inform them of his death. He was a beautiful bird and full of innocence. I felt blessed to have shared that encounter but sad that he had to die in such a state of stress. The spiral of life was apparent to me and I thought of this time of year when things are dying. And yet, with death new seeds are sown and the circle continues. I felt the Goddess in that circle and in the symbolic meaning of this season very strongly then.<br /><br />There was more shopping but I was quickly wearing down because of all the non-stop excitement of the last few days. My body was telling me that enough was enough.<br /><br />Monday:<br /><br />Sat around and got more and more nauseous. By evening I could stomach nothing and longed for some proper nausea med but the Specialty Clinic was closed so I tried my best with aromatherapy, ginger tea and acupressure bracelets. Nevertheless, I was up all night. I was sorely tried.<br /><br />Tuesday:<br /><br />In the wee hours of the morning I could throw up no more and so mom took me to the ER. My port gave the nurses a hell of a time but eventually all was settled andthe nausea med was administered. It helped but not quite enough. Still, by that point I wanted out of the noisy, bright and uncomfortable ER and was able to leave after waiting an entire hour to be discharged.<br /><br />The scary part was when the nurse asked me if I needed anything for pain. I had forgotten to show the ER doctor my letter saying that they should not give me any type of pain medicine. It would have been so easy to say that yes, I should love some pain med. But what good would it have done me? I would have become even more nauseous and been all doped up with no mind of my own; and let me tell you I am so done with that. Since I wasn’t in any pain it was easy to say no. I am very afraid of narcotics now, which is a good thing, but if I am in a certain mood and in a lot of pain…well, those drugs start to look pretty good. Still, the experience of being asked so matter-of-factly if I wanted some drugs was shaking to me and later that day when I was napping the experience came back to haunt me more than a couple times.<br /><br />I continued to be very sick throughout the day and in the late afternoon was taken to the hospital to have some more nausea medicine. I think it would have helped if I hadn’t had to ride in a car there and then back home. However, that night I started feeling better. I took it easy with the food just in case but, mercy of mercies, I was able to sleep through the night.<br /><br />Wednesday/Today:<br /><br />I woke up with a migraine but I brushed that off as I was so happy that my stomach was finally better. I went to my doctors appointment and got some things going to try and help but I’m sure the worst is over.<br /><br />I celebrated by filling my new prescriptions and buying some yummy and easily digestible food at Open Harvest.<br /><br />Finally I can get back to my life.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-2162079804291206402010-10-11T20:30:00.000-07:002010-10-11T20:32:35.909-07:00A Productive Day9:58 PM<br />Aprille’s dining room<br /><br />Today was productive. I got up, showered, dressed and took the meds before heading off to an appointment that didn’t exist. Well, it does, just not until next Monday. Got the week wrong. Having proven the time-space continuum theory I sent out a text message to three free-during-the-day friends that I would much appreciate a rat wrangler as I made a go at cleaning said rats cages. Gina arrived at my house shortly after I did and tried to mix her rat wrangling with some very stitch count intensive knitting. I could have told her that her multitasking was fruitless in the face of three to four rats all vying for her attention (and when not getting it resorting to chewing the bedding or knocking random objects off the table). Somehow it all worked out and when Gina had to leave she was escorted to the door by a very friendly, if not distracted, Jack. It may be argued that Jack had really come out to try and steal food from Gramma and Mom who were enjoying leftovers at the time, but I really think that was just a sideline perk to the whole escorting business.<br /><br />Tried out the new food I’m supposed to be running a trial on with the rats. They were not pleased about it. After some tentative nibbles on the trial product they all came to me with sad, disappointed faces. I’m ashamed to admit that didn’t have the heart to deny them so…I may have put some yummy seed mix in there for them. I could have sworn I heard a choir singing the ‘Hallelujah’ chorus when they discovered it and had their first rapturous bites. “This never happened,” I told them.<br /><br />I got some other things done around the house as well but they are much too boring to be written about. So was my blood test. The results of the test, however, earned me an after-hours concerned phone call from my doctor and much frustration on my part for not being able to bring up my potassium by any significant amount even after loyal pill gulping and a high-potassium Boost shake right before the blood test.<br /><br />After all that it was time for an escape so I kidnapped Aprille from work and we went to Barnes and Noble where I bought her a drink to make up for the particularly cruel way in which I had kidnapped her. By the way, only part of that last sentence is true. You be the detective.<br /><br />Aprille and I talked about spirituality which is a hot topic among the friends right now. I’m the only pagan in the group so I have a different take on a lot of things. Sometimes people get it, sometimes they don’t. It doesn’t really matter to me as long as they don’t burn me at the stake.<br /><br />I could write more on that subject, but it’s late, I’m tired and I’ve been talking about it all evening so I’m thinking I’ll just leave it there for now. Hopefully I’ll be more inspired later.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-90606488875042359182010-09-22T10:59:00.000-07:002010-09-22T11:04:31.560-07:00Lunar Mix-UpThe Goddess energy is super strong today. I'm feeling it, experiencing it. Now, technically, the full moon is tomorrow night. At least that's what my lunar calendar says. However, according to my Google widget the moon is full right now. Since I'm feeling its energy so strongly I'm gonna go with Google on this one. So tonight is lunar goddess fun night. I better rest up....<br /><br />ZzzzzzzBeccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-56305747178887026482010-08-31T17:38:00.000-07:002010-09-02T13:43:34.832-07:00Back From A Blog Haitus??It's been a long time. But here I am, alive, kicking and enjoying life. A lot has happened since my last blog (posted a little under a year ago) and you all probably know all about it. I plan to post the missing health updates and journals I want to make public. They will be posted as if they were posted on the day they were originally written, so eventually there will be blogs between this one and the "thanksgiving" one.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892741596686786125.post-65484866319423944182010-08-25T13:44:00.000-07:002010-09-02T13:47:02.526-07:00I'm a BitchI have a really hard time understanding people who don’t want/like to be single. Like Miss Read and various other characters, I hold my single life dear. Who would want to give up that freedom? Not that I won’t date or never get married. I’m sure there are guys out there who will enrich my life and let me keep my free spirit. The point is, being single is great fun so please people, take some time and enjoy it.<br />Also, if the guy was a jerk and broke up with you jerk-fashion then get over it. Don’t do him any credit by continuing to keep on your leash and collar.<br />Aprille and I talked about how, for us, it takes a very short time to get over things and it is often frustrating when we are talking/listening to people who can’t let things the frick go. At least Aprille and I were able to leave the room and do something productive (peeling potatoes). <br />Oh, and people, please expand your musical horizons. For the love of God.<br />Apparently I can’t be nice, even about my friends. I guess that’s what journaling is for. I’m sure I’ll have this all thrown back in my face someday by some unforeseen and unfortunate circumstances.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09780896962050154917noreply@blogger.com4