Rained out

Well that was a wash…

… I learned this weekend that outdoors + stupid boot on my foot + rain + arthritis does not in any way equal fun. I was cold, damp, and miserable. Every time I tried to roll over or shift on my cot during the night I cried out in pain a little bit.

The event got cancelled, but not before we abandoned most of our stuff on the mountain. We’ll go back for it tomorrow, but it was just too hard to try breaking down camp in the rain at the time.

I have to admit, I wasn’t looking forward to a cooking event. I don’t cook. Like, unless it comes out of a box or bag, forget it. But I told my husband I’d go, so despite dreading the event I went. A bit of precognition, perhaps? Probably not, but regardless it was a hot mess.

We ended up going to our friends’ house, where we’ll stay the night before reclaiming our belongings. There are a bunch of people over as we ended up having an impromptu party. So not a total bust, but I kinda wish I’d brought my laptop. Clare and her story are calling out to me.

After obsessing over the changes I had to make to accommodate the new ending to Abnormal, I’ve finally figured out how to work it in. I just need my computer. And time. I need time.

Book 2’s first draft reboot will be done, hopefully by the end of the year, but I’ve got to buckle down and focus.

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Sneaky little sh!t

Well that was unexpected.

There I was, filling out a form at the rheumatologist’s office, when all of a sudden it hit me: I’ve been mild to moderately depressed for a good two or three weeks and I didn’t even notice.

I should have noticed, but I guess I’ve been so busy it just snuck up on me. I haven’t been super interested in the usual stuff, and that should have been a big sign. Combine that with the fact that I ran out of my meds, and it’s hard to believe I didn’t put two and two together. (Not to worry; all the meds are in the process of being refilled.) It just wasn’t until I checked the box stating that I have been experiencing depression that I even gave it a thought.

I guess that’s kind of a good thing, if you look at it a certain way. I was doing well enough for long enough that I almost–almost–forgot I am bipolar. Almost. So much else was going on that “bipolar” and “depression” kind of simmered on the back burner while I dealt with the now.

(Hubby just asked me what I’m writing about. I told him, and he has properly scolded me for not taking my meds.)

To prevent further issues, I have had the pharmacy put my meds on auto fill. Clearly I can’t trust myself to keep track of that kind of thing right now.

One thing that hasn’t surprised me is the increase in arthritis pain and stiffness lately. I’ve gotten out of the habit of exercising a couple of times a week and it’s taking a toll. Work schedules don’t allow for much exercise though, at least with my friends’ current regimen. Their best days and times happen to occur on the longest work days of the week for me, so I don’t get the opportunity to join them often. When the opportunity does arise, I’m usually so exhausted–both physically and mentally–that I just don’t have the drive to go. My joints have noticed the lack of exercise. Oh, how they have noticed. I can’t sit in one position too long or my knees get really stiff and uncooperative. Just this afternoon, on the way to the doctor, I got out of the car at a gas station and almost couldn’t walk inside. My left knee was so stiff and painful that I had to limp most of the way into the store and a little bit inside before I regained adequate range of motion. Not quite to “handicap parking”-level loss of mobility, but definitely not my norm.

I think I have a psychiatrist appointment next week. Better brace myself for the inevitable lecture on keeping up with my drug regimen. At least I am aware of the problem before I go in. I can try to remember not to automatically tell the doctor that everything is “fine.”

You’d be surprised how easy it is to slip into that automatic response no matter how bad things actually are. It’s become customary to say that you’re “fine” when someone inquires how you are doing. We don’t want to burden friends and family with our problems, we don’t want to sound like we’re whining, or whatever the reason happens to be. I have to get over that enough to let my doctor know what he needs to know. He can’t help if I don’t let him know there’s something going on, after all.

Collared

Well, I’m getting closer…the end is in sight! Except this one little problem: someone got a little scissor-happy when she was cutting the neckline for her husband’s tunic and now must figure out a way to add on fabric without making it look weird.

I’m sure I can do it, but not right now–not at 0100. Maybe in a few hours I will have the functional capacity to design, cut, stamp, and sew a new collar/neckline/whatever. As it is, I’m quite irritated with my body for waking me up an hour ago for no good reason. I’ve been sleeping pretty well the past several nights, but tonight it’s back to waking up around midnight wide awake and unable to drift back off.

The sad thing is, between the bipolar disorder (panic attacks or racing thoughts at bedtime if I don’t take my Klonopin) and the rheumatoid arthritis (back/shoulder aches if I don’t take my Flexeril) I take enough crap to knock out a rhino. Ok, maybe not that much…but it’s a lot for the average Joe. I also have temazepam that I can take as needed for sleep, but I’ve found that it doesn’t help me stay asleep so much as helping me fall asleep–which I generally don’t need help with. I can fall asleep just fine most nights. It’s that tricky staying asleep thing that gets me. I’ll sleep four to five hours and then wake up all energized and crap. So not fair.

Once my husband gets up and tries on the tunic (with his gorget, so I can see how much collar I need to drum up), I can get to work on it. Right now? Now I have to find something to do to alleviate the boredom until he wakes up.

Good thing I still have a couple projects pending. On to sewing trim onto a different tunic!

Mouth wide shut

I know I’ve been quiet lately, but all I can say is that I’ve been busy. Life keeps plowing forward and I have to try to keep up.

Stress is building exponentially, and good ol’ Arthur isn’t letting me forget it. I’m dealing with more arthritis pain than I think I can attribute to “just the weather,” and I truly believe this added pain is due to the spike in stress. It’s quite frustrating because I have Things to Do (yes, these Things are important enough to capitalize) and the pain interferes with my ability to do those Things.

I’ve got to just grit my teeth and bear it, though, because life, as I mentioned, is not stopping to give me a break. I keep hoping that stuff settles down in the next few weeks. That the Things get done despite the pain. That I can return to some semblance of normalcy…or at least as normal as I get 😉

The Neverending Story

It had to happen sometime…just wish it wasn’t now. I’m talking about getting sick. Yeah, the Humira is doing its job–or else this is a convenient coincidence. Right now, I’m expectorating an inordinate amount of mucus at an alarming rate. My nose is raw, I can barely breathe, and I’m coughing almost nonstop. Honestly, I don’t know how my husband can sleep through all of it.

This is a terrible time of year to be sick. I have the Yule garments to finish (all of them are at least started, with one finished, one nearly finished, one halfway finished, and one mostly cut out), Oleanders to stitch, work to do, and more. I. Can’t. Be. Sick. But I am. I’ve got a nasty head cold, and it’s damn frustrating. If I push every afternoon leading up to Yule I can get the sewing done, though, provided I don’t have to wear a freakin’ fracture boot for weeks on end again.

Yeah, the foot’s still hurting. It’s especially worse this morning since I didn’t wear the fracture boot at all yesterday. No, my fool self felt I was good enough to work a half day without the boot and then continue into the evening without it because I had sewing to do. I see the doctor this afternoon, though, thanks to my wonderful boss who is going to cover for me in the surgery department so I can go to my appointment. Otherwise, I would’ve had to wait another week and change to get in.

I’m not gonna lie–even if I am told to wear the boot, I’m going to get the sewing done, one way or the other. Okay, I might lie….to the doctor. Let him think I’m going to have someone else man the sewing machine while I sit and elevate the ol’ footsie. As a wise old woman once said:

aintnobodygottimeforthatgif

Help! Help! I’m being suppressed!

*insert Monty Python gif here*

Well, good ol’ Arthur has gotten me again. Arthur-itis, that is. Yep, my rheumatologist started me on a biologic immunosuppressant today. I get to give myself a shot every two weeks. Yay. Not.

It’s not that I mind getting shots, or even giving them to myself. Whatever. A second of burning, a couple minutes of discomfort, and it’s done for the next two weeks. What annoys me is that it’s yet another medicine in a long list of meds. An expensive one. Sheesh. Couldn’t she at least take away one of the other ones while she was at it?

Can’t deny that it’s more than a little depressing. I’m not even 40 for crying out loud! There are 90-something-year-old patients at work who take fewer meds than I do.

Here’s hoping it helps at least.

War paint

More war prep was done today, and I’m starting to get pretty excited about it.

First off, my husband and I taped and painted our dancing masks with Viking runes for warrior. That was a fun and interesting adventure (in which we learned that one of the smallest pieces of the airbrush is one of the most crucial in dispensing the paint), and it got me a little more revved up for the event. I did some fabric painting as well, adding symbols to represent both Kingdom and Barony on two of our tunics:

Are they perfect? No, but what is? I still think they look pretty snazzy considering the time constraints I’ve had (and the fact that I mostly eyeballed almost every measurement on these).

I feel much better about the war now that things are falling into place. We’re getting to the point where we can start packing early, which is leaps and bounds better than we usually do. I mean, most trips we take I end up packing for the morning of. We’re not leaving for another three days and I already plan on stuffing my bag as soon as we get home from visiting with friends.
I am still a little nervous, but that’s the socially-awkward introvert in me. There will be lots and lots of people there, 90+% of whom I won’t know. It’ll be a challenge for sure, but at least for now I have the prep work and my real job to distract me from that.

All that’s left is to get my creaky old joints to man up and quit whining. The past few days have had me in varying degrees of pain, which is not going to be conducive to a fun fake war experience. I’m hoping that the kinks work themselves out soon because I want to be able to take the field in top form (for me, that is).
Three days until we’re officially on the road to California!