zeptember

There’s good news to be had, of course…

B’s dad got out of the hospital yesterday, and they figured out what caused his blood sugar to spike up to 500 in the first place - he was given some kind of prescription-only B vitamin because he was sick with an upper respiratory tract infection. This B vitamin knocked everything out of whack and could have killed him. Ugh. But he’s doing better and is finally out of the hospital.

With B’s paycheck on August 10, we’ve been able to do a full round of grocery shopping again. Hoorah. This lifts both of our spirits a bit.

B was able to give me money to go out dancing both Friday and Saturday this weekend. For the most part, I had fun, but I admit to still being on the melancholy side. For many minutes throughout the night, both nights, one could find me sitting alone in a chair or standing up against the wall, staring off at the crowd. Even though I had friends there to talk to, I felt lonely, isolated. There wasn’t much I felt comfortable talking about with people. I didn’t feel like I had anything smart or witty or worthy to add to conversation.

The ’still not out of the woods’ part is that I haven’t done homework in two days, because there’s other stuff in life that comes up, like wanting to be there for friends who are about to get married. And there’s selfish stuff, like wanting to go to dinner with my husband, and go out dancing. And there’s health management stuff, like having to go to the pain management class on Sundays, and then get the grocery shopping and some housework done for the coming week.
Not getting homework done means guilt creeps back in HARD. And then I pop another Ativan. And then I get too tired (well it doesn’t help that I only had five hours of sleep last night).

The ’still not out of the woods’ part is that my husband is still severely depressed after all he’s been through with my mental breakdown, then nearly losing his father, and the lead singer of his band quitting (haven’t mentioned that til now but it’s also a major part of his depression)…and I don’t know what to do to make him feel better. When I suggested cuddling this morning, he shrugged and grimaced.
My eyes welled with tears and I fled the room.

After a few minutes, we talked about it. We talked it all out. We did get some cuddle time in after that, and it wasn’t forced - he was gonna ask me if I’d still like cuddle time when I had turned to him and burst into tears. So yeah, after talking about it, we cuddled for a bit, and the rest of the day was a tad brighter. I felt like I had my man back again for part of the day.

Now he’s off to game night, which I’m glad is happening, and I hope he has some fun. That’s all he would have needed was for game night to be cancelled yet again.

That leaves me here, free to start homework and get a good six hours of it done.

And yet, I’m melancholy again. Can’t focus. Can’t get started. Want to spend the evening crying.

Maybe I should just do that - get it all out - again. Ugh. So tired of this depression. I thought I was coming out of it. I’ve been taking my vitamins every day. I went and had the ‘hey look at me, I’m still part of a subculture’ boon this weekend. I got to be a foodie with my husband and eat out at Thai and Sushi restaurants again this weekend cuz he had the money for it. We have a freshly stocked pantry and refrigerator because my husband has money for it.

Has my depression just turned into PMS, because I’m due to menstruate in the next four days?
Did I screw my hormonal balance up by having one small glass of red wine on Friday night, and one small glass of red wine on Saturday night? Did I screw up my mental state by taking Tylenol 3 at 4am for the moderate, nagging low back pain and knee pain caused by the dancing I did on Friday and Saturday?

Gah. I wish I knew what is too much, what is the wrong way, what is verboten. I wish I had an accurate owner’s manual to this body.

I put myself on the waiting list for free psychological counseling through Harborside Health Center. This week I will give the Magellan psychologist a call to schedule meeting with her. I also filled out a form detailing the bad experience I had with the CBD bought at Harborside, as I am part of their patient research - I’m a willful guinea pig for the CBD - now they get the bad feedback on it. I’m likely the teeny tiny less than one percent rare side effects person in the study. I always am. But they need to know. I’m just glad Harborside offers other services besides cannabis medication. Today was the Alexander Technique class. I would like to check out their yoga sessions, too.

Right now, I’m gonna do some light housework to prepare for the coming week. This is the week I need to re-establish getting up as though I’m going to work, so I can get my body back in rhythm for that.

Then we’ll see if I’m up for getting some more homework done. I’ve learned that forcing myself through the homework only makes me go deeper into depression and tantrum mode, so I’m gonna do what I can, if I can get stuff done. And I’m going to have to be okay with that.

By December 28, my sinus infection or whatever it was, had started to finally fade.

By December 31, my husband’s doctor cleared him to be able to go out in public again, though we’d been stepping out of the house for the past two days as it was, because of cabin fever. The doctor said that as long as one still has a cough, one is still contagious, at least when it comes to H1N1. My husband had a mild cough, and was told as long as he coughs into his inner elbow, and washes his hands frequently, the spread of the illness would be greatly minimised.

So on New Year’s Eve, we went to our friend’s house, and enjoyed a mellow evening just hanging out. Some of our friends have young children now, so the house was filled with infant and preschooler noises as well.
I had reminded my husband on the way to the party about how to cough into his elbow, since we employ this method in the Montessori school I work for.
Of course, within the first half hour, my dear husband jokingly shoved his face into a box of homemade cookies and made ‘nom nom nom’ noises.
I pulled him aside immediately and reminded him of his germs. He sheepishly said he was sorry, that he’d forgotten already.
*sigh*

On January 1st, we decided to go dancing, since we’d been screwed out of most of our vacation by being sick. We sweated and danced our asses off at Meat vs. Death Guild.

The next night, we returned to the same location for New Wave City, and danced some more. I began to get sad on the way to the club, because I realised it was our last night out together before having to return to work. We’d not been able to go to Michigan to see friends and family, and we’d not been able to go out into the world from Christmas Eve til New Year’s Eve in any capacity to hang with friends, much less go wining, dining and dancing.

Today is the end of our “vacation”. Tomorrow it’s back to work. I slept in til 11:30am, despite having told myself that would be a bad idea - that I’d have insomnia tonight. Ah well.

Throughout the past week and a half, I’ve checked flight status on the airline we were supposed to have flown. Our flight made it safely to Michigan on December 25, and safely back to San Francisco on January 2. The Cabal party we were supposed to attend still happened in our absense, and pictures and dialogue were posted. I kept tabs on the weather - snow fell regularly through Christmas into the New Year in Michigan.
It’s a bit surreal knowing all of this, and having reality be that I never got on the plane.

Meanwhile, back in California, it’s been a mix of rain and sun, and the temperature has been roughly in the 50°F range during the day, and in the 30-40°F range in the evenings.

Yesterday as we shopped for a dishwasher, I informed my husband that we’d boarded the plane in Michigan and were now on our way home.
This morning I had a nightmare that we’d overslept and likely missed our flight back to San Francisco. I spent a lot of time on my cell phone with a bad connection to Travelocity to try to pin down whether the plane had left already or not. The nightmare ended with me at my ma’s house, having gone into the kitchen and turned down the country music on an old small boombox radio, so I could hear the phone conversation about how to go about getting booked on another flight. My husband was in the living room, my brother had just walked in the front door, and the boy next door stood on his porch with his wife, who was there and then not there and then there again…like some sort of hologram. The two looked a bit Victorian.

My cough returned Wednesday or Thursday as I cleaned the house, because of the dust. The cough settled, then returned again by Saturday morning, along with phlegm, after my husband and I had gotten all kissy face for the first time in about two weeks. I was hesitant but gave in. We’ll see if I get sick again. I don’t have the best immune system…

Yesterday I was so tired all day long, despite having slept in, that I wanted to cry. I overcaffinated myself to no avail. Today I’m feeling pretty tired again, but not as worn out as I was on Saturday. I’m guessing I was just super dehydrated and worn out from all that dancing and sweating on Friday, since it is the first major activity in weeks on account that I’ve been sick. I first got the flu around December 5, and my husband’s doctor thinks it was a blend of H1N1 and the regular flu. She says it takes weeks to fully recover from it, and that relapses can happen.

So it’s back to wait and see, now that we’ve had a weekend of strenuous activity via the nightclubs.

…and of course I must write a book about it.

My neighbor went into labor at 4am Sunday. She’s a week overdue already and on Saturday morning I agreed to be on call for her this coming week, since there’s no summer school teaching work for me this week.
She was trying for a home birth without drugs, which to me is absolute insanity.
Sarcasm aside, a home birth seems like that’s just the way it should be done anyway, innit? And the without drugs thing, well that’s just cuz you never know what the meds really do to a newborn, so trying to birth without is also a good idea.
Ain’t no way I’d ever tho.

Though she was in labor, I was not told I should report for babysitting duty on Sunday, so I went ahead with my plans to do the AIDS Walk.
We had a great turnout and did the walk, and had a great time walking with my hubby, with artisticskin, damiondead, princessdammitt, nohwhere_man, Anna Mae, Christine, Melanie and Betsy.

mklmyrs was also there but instead of walking, he manned the team table for us along with Amanda. THANK YOU!

Our team raised $2,425 in online donations alone! The total for this year’s AIDS Walk was over $3M.

On the way home from the AIDS Walk, my neighbor called to tell me she was still in labor. I told her I’d be over as soon as I could to help out with her toddler son.
I had time to change clothes and that’s it. My neighbor’s wife told me I could find their son in the park a couple blocks away with another babysitter, so off I went, after having just walked 6 miles for the AIDS Walk. My feet and legs were in pain but I’d promised I’d be there for my neighbors, and besides, their son is adorable.

We two babysitters hung out in the park with little S for awhile, reading to him, feeding him some late lunch/early dinner, and finally taking him for a walk because he was starting to worry about momma again.
We walked down to the bookstore and hung out in there, reading board books to him for a bit. I finally put in an order for Pirates Don’t Change Diapers, because that book is hilarious and I simply need it for my babysitting tote bag cuz I love the book so much.

Around 6:30 or so, we put S into his stroller instead of having him toddle along, cuz my fellow babysitter needed to leave soon. We got back to the house and the curtains were drawn with the “IN PROGRESS” signs still in the window. My colleague made the remark that since the curtains were drawn, that perhaps there were now complications.
We went in the back entrance to the house, and S’s birth mom received him. We went inside and hung out in the back part of the house and waited for further instruction. Babysitter #1 was given the OK to leave, and I accepted dinner and bedtime duty. We were told that momma #2 was having a hard time dilating despite the regular contractions.

Little S was seriously concerned for momma and wanted to go back in and see her, but his birth momma told him that he mustn’t right now. He wailed but we were able to calm him down after a few minutes, and I even convinced him that dinner would be a great idea. We washed hands and he ate hummus and soft pita bread, had three drink options, and was contented for awhile.

Meanwhile, in the front of the house, it wasn’t a nightmare scenario from what I could hear. Every now and then I’d hear her doing the lamaze breathing, or grunting in pain, but there was no wailing and screaming.

After dinner, we went to the bedroom so I could read to S, but he wanted to see momma #2 and began to cry again. He tried to tell me he was still hungry but as soon as I’d open the bedroom door, he’d say ‘momma’ and point, then start crying again. We went round and round with this for a bit. I’d hold him, rock him, sing to him, read to him, take him to bathroom to brush teeth or back to kitchen again to see if he really was still hungry (he wasn’t).
At this point, the midwife came in and asked if little S would like to help her get something from her car. She handed him her keys, cuz keys are all the rage for toddlers, and off they went. I hung out in the kitchen with another helper friend and we chatted. S came back in with the keys and the midwife was holding an oxygen tank. Uh oh, I thought, this isn’t looking good.
She let S have her keys, and S went around the back of the house “locking” things.
I changed his diaper, got him into his jammies, and we went back to the bedroom, where we played a game he’d just invented with me the day before, whereby he uses the key to lock the stuffed animal kitty’s mouth or my mouth! I made strange noises with my mouth locked shut until he unlocked my mouth and I could talk again. I did the same for the kitty’s voice.This was very funny for him.

Bedtime came and there were more meltdowns, more rocking and holding and rubbing his back. I read him some books and he calmed down. Finally I declared I was tired, so I climbed into bed and told S he should join me. I hoisted him onto the bed and he didn’t lay down at first. I reclined on some pillows and shut my eyes and began to breathe deeply and evenly. He followed me and lay down next to me, but he fidgeted a lot.
Finally he ended up on his tummy, so I rubbed his back until he settled and eventually fell asleep at 8:49pm.

I put him in his crib, tip-toed out of the bedroom, made my way through the house and lightly knocked to enter the front of the house. I was met with the midwife’s assistant and told her to relay that S was down and I would like to grab dinner if it was possible.
At this point birth momma appeared and updated me - momma #2 was having a lot of trouble - the baby passed meconium during labor and they might need to go to the hospital. She told me to go eat dinner but asked if I’d be able to return within the hour. I told her yes.
Within 25 minutes, I got the call that they were definitely going to the hospital, so I finished up my dinner, changed into my pajamas, and went back over.

Momma #2 was burning up and was in a lot of pain, the contractions coming regularly but still not making progress according to the midwife. At this point she’d been going like this for about 17 hours.

I settled in on the couch and off they went to the hospital. It didn’t take long before I fell asleep.
Around 10 or 10:30pm, S woke crying for momma. I went to him and scooped him out of the crib and held him. He clutched his little arms around my neck and sobbed, the poor thing.
Nothing I tried would comfort little S. He didn’t want to lay in his parents’ bed. He didn’t want to go back into the crib and have his back rubbed. He didn’t want me to rock him for very long either standing or sitting.
In the dark, each time I picked him up out of his crib again ( a grand total of two or three times), he felt for my face to see if I was one of his mommas. When it was clear by my facial structure and my voice that I wasn’t, he laid his head on my shoulder, clutched my shoulders and sobbed.

I realised there was no way he was going to just cry himself to sleep with me either sitting nearby or rubbing his back in the crib, so I brought him out and changed his diaper and we went to the living room. S sat on the couch and alternated between crying and waiting for his mommas to come home. I decided this was the best thing for him right then and there, so I told him I’d stay with him but I was tired. I reclined on the other end of the couch, put my legs up on the back of the couch, and “slept” with my eyes slit barely open.

S began to nod. His eyes began to flutter. His head would droop and then he’d snap to. He did this for probably half an hour before he finally allowed himself to lean to the side and rest on the pillows on the other end of the couch. And then he fell asleep.
We slept for 45 minutes or so, on and off, cuz he tossed and turned and he’d cry out in his sleep for momma.
I had to keep bolting up ready to catch him, lest he’d toss himself over the side of the couch.
Finally I was really falling asleep and decided it was safer for little S in his crib. He was contently asleep at the moment and let me carry him to his crib.
I was told I could sleep in the parents’ bed, since the kid’s crib is at the foot of the bed, but it didn’t feel right for me to do so. However, half hour back on the couch dealing with little S crying out in his sleep and I rethought my feelings on the matter - I crawled into the parents’ bed.

I remained in twilight sleep all night, because he cried out in his sleep, “Momma!” and “No!” all night.
I had been told by the babysitter I’d met in the park with S that previous afternoon that S was pretty traumatised once labor started for momma, because he could clearly see the pain in her face, could tell the difference in pitch and cadence of her voice, could sense the urgency of both moms that something was happening, and well it scared the shit out of him. That’s when he began sobbing and crying out ‘Momma! No!’ from that point on.

Again, my heart goes out to the poor little boy.

Around 5am, I got a text message saying the baby had been born just two hours earlier! I was asked to text back when S woke up. I fell back to sleep, and an hour later, at 6am on the dot, S awoke. He was a tad bit fussy and was moving around in his crib, but he didn’t wake sobbing, thankfully.

I forced myself to get up. S started to ask for momma and I cheerfully told him that momma would be coming home soon, and that she was at the hospital and everything went great, and she was going to bring home a new baby sister.
S was unsure about this whole baby sister thing, and gave me a wince! Too cute.

I changed his diaper and set about opening the drapes in the house to let the light in, and then got S settled into his high chair for breakfast. He’s a picky eater so we went through what seemed like everything in the house before he said yes to orange juice, grapes and banana bread.
I found some string cheese and apple sauce to eat, and also drank some orange juice. I taught S how to do ‘cheers’ before drinking, hehe. Even if he can’t say the word, yet.

After breakfast, I gathered up all the dirty dishes in the house so they were all in one location for either myself or someone else to take care of, and then went to the living room with S.

I noticed from the previous night that any time I walked out of the room, little S panicked and ran after me, sometimes just hollering, sometimes slipping up and saying ‘momma!’
This continued into today and is totally normal for a toddler whose parents have not been able to spend any time with him for the past 29 hours.

In the living room, we read books, played with trucks, listened to music. I looked for baby dolls but only found stuffed animals, so I grabbed a nearby towel that momma had on hand the night before, and swaddled Peter Rabbit. I showed S how to hold a new baby and how to rock her and talk to her. I told him this is what his little sister will look like when momma brings her home from the hospital.
S peeked at the swaddled rabbit and petted its face gently, and made a rocking motion with his own arms, then made kissing noises. Then he went and got his stuffed animal cat and carried that around for awhile, before deciding he wanted to get into the car and go look for momma, cuz she was taking too long to come home.

I grabbed the spare house keys and gave them to S, got a sweatshirt on him, and we went out the front door. S went right around the side of the house towards the back yard and headed right for the driveway where the second family car was still parked. He tried every key imaginable in every lock on that car, and some invented locks as well. All the while, I told him momma will be home very soon, but I let him continue with his determination.
Meanwhile, lawn men showed up in their truck a few doors down, and waved and smiled at S. His big dog waited patiently in the backyard for some love, staring intently at little S and wagging her tail every time we came near. People passing by on the sidewalk smiled or waved at S.
But all this was nothing to him - he was determined to get into the car and drive to find his mommas!
After awhile, I convinced S to come back round to the front of the house and unlock the front door. He was reluctant but followed me because after all, I was ahead of him and walking away from him. We got inside the front door and a neighbor saw me hoist S up to lock the front door from the inside, and smiled and waved at him, calling his name. S smiled back and stared all shy-like.

Moments later, we heard his birth momma’s voice from the back of the house - she’d just gotten home and came in through the back door. S seemed like he was in disbelief, wondering if he was hearing things, and not wanting to trust that momma might really be home. But as soon as she appeared in his line of sight, he called out and ran to her.

I told her that she can expect to be followed everywhere for a few days - even to the bathroom, and that leaving him alone for even a few seconds will be traumatising for him. She was completely on board with that and said it was okay and expected. Great relief there - some parents really don’t know these things about toddlers. These parents however are awesome.

I got home around 9:35am and it was impossible to fall asleep, even though I’m dead tired.

I had my first shrink appointment in 2 hours, so I forced myself down to nap for an hour. I slept HARD.
I figured that after my appointment, I’d likely be ready to sleep for days, but here I am at 4:30pm still unable to get back to restful sleep.

I think that of all the babysitting and nannying and preschool teacher work I’ve done - having stayed overnight with barely any sleep and having to get up ready to go full steam ahead the next day with a little one - that is surely the closest experience I’ve had yet to what a real day in the life of a parent is like.

And I’m happy that it’s not my every day life.

Bet you didn’t know I’d been gone!

My hubby and I were on our honeymoon.

Click here for pix!

On Friday, April 17, 2009, there was more B.S. at work. We were told mid-morning that we’d be having a staff break at 1:15pm. The co-worker who has the same lunch hour as me spelled it out; this meant we’d only get a 15-minute lunch.
She said she’d not brought any lunch with her today, as she didn’t know about the meeting til this morning. I only had some hen to eat, and was going to go get some side dishes to enjoy with the hen, but now I couldn’t.
I told the co-worker that by law, we are entitled to a 30-minute lunch break for every six hours we work. I told her I would check with the #2 playground to see if they were within ratio, to find out if we could go to lunch early, at 12:45pm, instead of having to go over there.
They were within ratio, so we went to the office to ask permission to go to lunch early. By the time we were granted permission, it was 12:53pm. I decided to just go ahead and eat the half hen I brought, along with a protein bar, rather than spend the next half hour procuring side dishes from a local fast food place (Boston Market).
My co-worker went and got herself a sandwich from a local shop and came back in time for the meeting, and ate her lunch during the meeting.

It was only at the meeting itself where we were told we could bring our lunch in and eat it, thus giving us our hour lunch break.

There is near zero clear and concise communication from management to staff members in this place, and it’s driving me nuts.

I had blisters on my feet since about Tuesday, from all the standing, walking and running around I had been doing on the job. My knees had ached all week but seemed to be doing better on Friday. I had a sore throat from about Wednesday or Thursday onwards, but was drinking lots of water and popping vitamin C and zinc twice a day to stave off colds from the kids.

I was granted permission to leave work an hour early on Friday, to go to a wedding. Again I’d asked if ratio was low enough and was given the yes signal to go.
My husband and I got out of work early, got dressed and ready, and drove 34 miles to Benicia to witness a friend get married. We stayed for the reception. I even danced to one song, and had some wine to drink. It was a lovely wedding.

On the way back home, I fell asleep in the car, and hurt my neck when my head fell forward suddenly. I still have a stiff neck from that. When we arrived home, I went right to bed.

I woke up early Saturday morning feeling like a Mack Truck ran over me.

I had a really sore throat, pounding headache, puffy eyes, yellow/green phlegm, body aches and felt very listless. It physically hurt to move. I made an appointment for the doctor’s office and went in. They did a strep test, which came out negative, and told me I “just” had a virus, which likely started on Tuesday or Wednesday, and that this weekend should be the worst of it.

I was so demoralised by being sick again that I cried during the doctor’s office visit. I showed a calendar to the doctor to make sure this wasn’t all tied to the gynecological issues I’m having. She said it is totally separate, but it didn’t help me to feel better, since nobody seems to know WHAT is wrong with me overall.

I spent most of Saturday sleeping and crying. I was in bed for the night probably around 8:30pm. I woke at 3:30am but forced myself to go back to bed. Woke for the day on Sunday after 8:30am.

Today (Sunday) I’ve had more energy, but it’s used up very fast, so I have to keep slowing down and being very deliberate in my movements, conserving as much health and energy as possible. I had a new symptom develop on Saturday and continuing today - diarrhea. I’ve only had it a couple times each day but still, I’m sick. And as of this evening, I’ve got a stomachache, too.

It doesn’t help that as of today, we’re in a heat wave. Today it was 90°F outside. Tomorrow and Tuesday calls for more of the same. And I’m supposed to be running around with children in this.

We’ll see how I’m feeling come tomorrow 7:30am. I may call in sick. I will just have to take care of myself. I refuse to overtax and kill myself for a workplace again like I did before, because THAT company ended up firing me, anyway, after how hard I tried and worked and was a yes-man for them. This place will do the same in a heartbeat, I can already tell. So I’m not playin’ that game.

DON’T PLAY THAT GAME.

I am more important to me than one particular job.