Recently, I had a conversation with some people I work with regarding my own personal life and my relationship with B. I spent the majority of the conversation defending the fact that:
1. We've been together for almost 2 decades
2. We aren't married
3. We don't live together
4. We have no children
It occurred to me that it seemed like a waste of time justifying my relationship to someone else who wasn't even in MY relationship, but we do that, don't we? I pondered upon the reason why we defend our relationships so fiercely. It could be many reasons. It could be because we don't like others to judge us. It could be because in our mind, they just don't understand and feel the need to tell them why. On a different note, it could be because we are trying to convince ourselves that what we have is okay.
Fortunately for me, that last reason doesn't apply. I will defend my relationship to the end because I'm in the place that I want to be - with him. I love him and fall more in love with him every day. I'm usually not the "emotional" type, but when you get fired up, you'd be surprised at what emerges.
Yes, it's not typical. But who in the world said that everyone had to live in the house with the 2.5 kids and the white picket fence? Please don't mistake my comments for bashing the "typical" family setting. I know many people, including my own relatives who are fabulous. I'm just not that person. I don't mind living in an apartment. 1200 square feet with the added bonus of not having to mow. LOL And don't get me wrong, I love kids. I love Makenna and Mavvie just like they are my own. They trained me to handle Ethan and Kaven really well since I don't see them very often. And little boys are much different than little girls. Brian's nephews, while a challenge sometimes, are as dear to me as if I was their "real" aunt. I have a "mother-in-law" who calls me her daughter-in-law despite the lack of legal paperwork. In the end, is it the paper that matters or is it the relationships we foster while we can?
My friends at work were astounded at my revelations. They acted like I was the last single person on earth. They couldn't fathom that I was perfectly content with my "boyfriend" (he hates that term) and that him and I were fine with it.
They just don't get it. I'm not sure they ever will.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Monday, August 23, 2010
It's Hot in Topeka...
To say it is hot in Topeka is a bit of an understatement. The grass is now a hideous shade of brown, the trees are not really helping in the shade department and everyone has become sluggish. The heat, combined with humidity make it clearly oppressive.
My car is black, has cloth black seats, black dash and...wait for it....NO air conditioning. Yes, for 3 summers now I have suffered from the heat. Here are the things I have figured out:
1. No matter how many window shades you put in the car, it is still going to be hot
2. Cloth seats can still burn your skin
3. Nothing will prepare you for the touch of the heated seat belt to your skin
4. No air conditioning is not a good idea for a weight loss program
5. Anytime there is a storm involved, leaving your window open can sometimes help remove heat from the car
Today it was 95. Tomorrow it's supposed to be 75. I may have to get a jacket out.
My car is black, has cloth black seats, black dash and...wait for it....NO air conditioning. Yes, for 3 summers now I have suffered from the heat. Here are the things I have figured out:
1. No matter how many window shades you put in the car, it is still going to be hot
2. Cloth seats can still burn your skin
3. Nothing will prepare you for the touch of the heated seat belt to your skin
4. No air conditioning is not a good idea for a weight loss program
5. Anytime there is a storm involved, leaving your window open can sometimes help remove heat from the car
Today it was 95. Tomorrow it's supposed to be 75. I may have to get a jacket out.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Spectacular, Spectacular
Many of you already know that on February 25 I had surgery. It was not a planned occasion, but resembling more of an "urgently necessary" issue. Let me tell you the story….
It all started with bronchitis. I caught a cold that quickly progressed into a rattling chest cough and wheezy breathing. Neither are fun. I went to the doctor, they prescribe a z-pack, prednisone (a steroid to help my lungs clear up) and some codeine cough syrup. I thought we were all done. A few days passed and I started to feel better….but noticed that in one of the "girls" there was some swelling and tenderness. Now I used to have a piercing in that area that I got in January, so I didn't think too much of it at the time, as it was still healing, so no big thing, right? Well 2 days after I finished the z-pack and the prednisone, it was as if I had a rather large balloon inside my shirt. I quickly called the doctor back and saw the nurse practitioner who diagnosed it as mastitis, to which my response was, "Isn't that reserved for pregnant/nursing mothers?" Her response was no, that it can happen in any woman. So she prescribed some antibiotic for 10 days with the instruction that after 5 I was to call in to let her know if it was working.
After 5 days, it wasn't getting worse as far as size goes, but the tenderness to ANY kind of touch/pressure and pain was unbearable. I called the office back, they called me back within 10 minutes and informed me that they spoke with my doctor who prescribed a different kind of antibiotic and some painkiller, with additional instructions to take these for 2 days and call in, because if it wasn't working, I would have to go in. You guessed it, it didn't help. So on Thursday, February 25, I left my office at 10:45 to go to the doctor. I arrived, checked in, was ushered in fairly quickly and they took my bp. It was a little high, but considering the pain I was in, I wasn't concerned. They gave me a gown and I put it on and waited.
Across the hall was another room with a wailing baby in it. I have no idea what was going on, but when my doctor arrived in my room, I ensured him I wasn't going to cry like that. He laughed and then proceeded to look at "Wilma," as someone very close to me calls her. I have never seen my doctor shocked, but his comment was a little bit unsettling.
"Well…….that's spectacular."
I almost laughed (almost), because I thought of the song from Moulin Rouge.
Spectacular, Spectacular
No words in the vernacular
Can't describe this great event
You'll be dumb with wonderment
So exciting
The audience will stomp and cheer
So delighting
It will run for fifty years
What do you say to that? I was speechless, which continued for a while, as he explained that he was going to send me for an I & D (Incision & Drainage) at a surgeon's office. Imagine my excitement. It wasn't so spectacular anymore. So the nurse left, called the office and I re-dressed and hustled out to the surgeon's office.
I arrived, then had to fill out this 3 page medical history form where I had to GUESS when I had chicken pox, various immunizations, etc. All while my heart is pounding and my blood pressure is creeping up.
The nurse came out to get me, had me put on a gown then proceeded to take my blood pressure 4 times. As you can imagine, it just kept creeping upward until I just had to say, "maybe we shouldn't take it again." That stopped it.
The surgeon came in as I was laying on the table/chair thing and looked at me a moment, checked out Wilma and then said to the nurse, "Can you get me a hollow 20-gauge needle please?" I nearly passed out and he hadn't done anything! He then stuck Wilma with it and pulled out infection. I almost punched him, but he moved when he saw my hand clench into a fist and my knuckles popped.
His next statement was, "I can't do this here. There is too much infection. I'm going to have to do it in an operating room. What it will involve is me cutting a chunk of you out, then removing the infection."
Being me, with my now skyrocketing blood pressure and all this anxiety, burst into tears. I had never had surgery and was a little freaked out.
So I got dressed and was sent straight to the hospital where I checked in and waited. My phone was rapidly running out of power because of all the texts and phone calls to people that had to be made. Dad showed up shortly thereafter and then I was shuttled into the "pre-op" room. Once I was all iv'd up and ready to wait, he came in and we watched the Olympics until he had to go get Makenna.
The anesthesiologist came in and we talked about the procedure for anesthesia with the breathing tube, etc.. I explained that I was terribly anxious and shortly thereafter, got a sedative to calm me down. They then took me into the OR. 4:23 is the time they marked on the board as I went in there. I moved myself onto a hard metal table while they stuck all these monitors on me and then received my lovely oxygen mask. I took 2 deep breaths, then they put the medicine in and I was done.
I woke up in recovery feeling no pain. I was overjoyed. For a while.
What they didn't warn me about was that because of the size of the infection (a softball), it left a rather large cavity inside me, so they packed the wound with saline-saturated gauze, then bandage me up. The next morning, they would come in and remove it and repack it. The idea is that the tissue inside had to grow back together by itself and then it would close the hole up in the end. This packing process has continued with daily visits to the doctor (even on weekends). It is not pleasant, but the wound is healing. In the beginning, they were using ¾ of a roll of gauze. I'm down to 2 inches now. A roll is 2 inches wide by 4 yards. Yes, friends, they were initially packing me up with 9 feet of gauze. So a little 2x2 square now is nothing. However the thought of 9 feet of gauze is still astounding to me.
Hopefully within a week or so, the hole will close up. It's actually been sort of interesting to go from a gaping hole to something so close to closing without stitches, etc. I will have a scar and be deformed, but as I told Wendy, I'd rather have a deformed Wilma than just Betty alone.
Anyway, there's the story. It's not exactly exciting, but on the upside, I did have a cute male nurse. Silver linings, right?
Spectacular, Spectacular
No words in the vernacular
Can't describe this great event
You'll be dumb with wonderment
So exciting
The audience will stomp and cheer
So delighting
It will run for fifty years
Until next time, dear friends.
It all started with bronchitis. I caught a cold that quickly progressed into a rattling chest cough and wheezy breathing. Neither are fun. I went to the doctor, they prescribe a z-pack, prednisone (a steroid to help my lungs clear up) and some codeine cough syrup. I thought we were all done. A few days passed and I started to feel better….but noticed that in one of the "girls" there was some swelling and tenderness. Now I used to have a piercing in that area that I got in January, so I didn't think too much of it at the time, as it was still healing, so no big thing, right? Well 2 days after I finished the z-pack and the prednisone, it was as if I had a rather large balloon inside my shirt. I quickly called the doctor back and saw the nurse practitioner who diagnosed it as mastitis, to which my response was, "Isn't that reserved for pregnant/nursing mothers?" Her response was no, that it can happen in any woman. So she prescribed some antibiotic for 10 days with the instruction that after 5 I was to call in to let her know if it was working.
After 5 days, it wasn't getting worse as far as size goes, but the tenderness to ANY kind of touch/pressure and pain was unbearable. I called the office back, they called me back within 10 minutes and informed me that they spoke with my doctor who prescribed a different kind of antibiotic and some painkiller, with additional instructions to take these for 2 days and call in, because if it wasn't working, I would have to go in. You guessed it, it didn't help. So on Thursday, February 25, I left my office at 10:45 to go to the doctor. I arrived, checked in, was ushered in fairly quickly and they took my bp. It was a little high, but considering the pain I was in, I wasn't concerned. They gave me a gown and I put it on and waited.
Across the hall was another room with a wailing baby in it. I have no idea what was going on, but when my doctor arrived in my room, I ensured him I wasn't going to cry like that. He laughed and then proceeded to look at "Wilma," as someone very close to me calls her. I have never seen my doctor shocked, but his comment was a little bit unsettling.
"Well…….that's spectacular."
I almost laughed (almost), because I thought of the song from Moulin Rouge.
Spectacular, Spectacular
No words in the vernacular
Can't describe this great event
You'll be dumb with wonderment
So exciting
The audience will stomp and cheer
So delighting
It will run for fifty years
What do you say to that? I was speechless, which continued for a while, as he explained that he was going to send me for an I & D (Incision & Drainage) at a surgeon's office. Imagine my excitement. It wasn't so spectacular anymore. So the nurse left, called the office and I re-dressed and hustled out to the surgeon's office.
I arrived, then had to fill out this 3 page medical history form where I had to GUESS when I had chicken pox, various immunizations, etc. All while my heart is pounding and my blood pressure is creeping up.
The nurse came out to get me, had me put on a gown then proceeded to take my blood pressure 4 times. As you can imagine, it just kept creeping upward until I just had to say, "maybe we shouldn't take it again." That stopped it.
The surgeon came in as I was laying on the table/chair thing and looked at me a moment, checked out Wilma and then said to the nurse, "Can you get me a hollow 20-gauge needle please?" I nearly passed out and he hadn't done anything! He then stuck Wilma with it and pulled out infection. I almost punched him, but he moved when he saw my hand clench into a fist and my knuckles popped.
His next statement was, "I can't do this here. There is too much infection. I'm going to have to do it in an operating room. What it will involve is me cutting a chunk of you out, then removing the infection."
Being me, with my now skyrocketing blood pressure and all this anxiety, burst into tears. I had never had surgery and was a little freaked out.
So I got dressed and was sent straight to the hospital where I checked in and waited. My phone was rapidly running out of power because of all the texts and phone calls to people that had to be made. Dad showed up shortly thereafter and then I was shuttled into the "pre-op" room. Once I was all iv'd up and ready to wait, he came in and we watched the Olympics until he had to go get Makenna.
The anesthesiologist came in and we talked about the procedure for anesthesia with the breathing tube, etc.. I explained that I was terribly anxious and shortly thereafter, got a sedative to calm me down. They then took me into the OR. 4:23 is the time they marked on the board as I went in there. I moved myself onto a hard metal table while they stuck all these monitors on me and then received my lovely oxygen mask. I took 2 deep breaths, then they put the medicine in and I was done.
I woke up in recovery feeling no pain. I was overjoyed. For a while.
What they didn't warn me about was that because of the size of the infection (a softball), it left a rather large cavity inside me, so they packed the wound with saline-saturated gauze, then bandage me up. The next morning, they would come in and remove it and repack it. The idea is that the tissue inside had to grow back together by itself and then it would close the hole up in the end. This packing process has continued with daily visits to the doctor (even on weekends). It is not pleasant, but the wound is healing. In the beginning, they were using ¾ of a roll of gauze. I'm down to 2 inches now. A roll is 2 inches wide by 4 yards. Yes, friends, they were initially packing me up with 9 feet of gauze. So a little 2x2 square now is nothing. However the thought of 9 feet of gauze is still astounding to me.
Hopefully within a week or so, the hole will close up. It's actually been sort of interesting to go from a gaping hole to something so close to closing without stitches, etc. I will have a scar and be deformed, but as I told Wendy, I'd rather have a deformed Wilma than just Betty alone.
Anyway, there's the story. It's not exactly exciting, but on the upside, I did have a cute male nurse. Silver linings, right?
Spectacular, Spectacular
No words in the vernacular
Can't describe this great event
You'll be dumb with wonderment
So exciting
The audience will stomp and cheer
So delighting
It will run for fifty years
Until next time, dear friends.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Merry Christmas, darling
Well…it's that time again.
Today I was driving to work, trying to find some music to listen to on the way. I can change the stations while I drive without looking at the dial, which is both good and bad. While on my way to work, I like to listen to upbeat music, which pumps me up for the day. Recently, I've been seeing Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations in stores and as much as I would like to be in denial about it, I can no longer do it.
There's a station in Kansas City, Star 102 (102.1 for you locally) that has a tradition of playing all Christmas music all the time from a certain point in November all the way through Christmas day. Last year, it was mid November, just before Thanksgiving.
This year, it was right after Halloween. Imagine my surprise to hear The Carpenters, "Merry Christmas Darling" on November 3. I'm sure the cars beside me thought I was insane as I started singing along loudly and grinning like an idiot.
Needless to say, I don't think we can be in denial any longer that Christmas is coming.
Even if we haven't even had our Thanksgiving turkey yet.
Put on your mistletoe hats and enjoy!
Today I was driving to work, trying to find some music to listen to on the way. I can change the stations while I drive without looking at the dial, which is both good and bad. While on my way to work, I like to listen to upbeat music, which pumps me up for the day. Recently, I've been seeing Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations in stores and as much as I would like to be in denial about it, I can no longer do it.
There's a station in Kansas City, Star 102 (102.1 for you locally) that has a tradition of playing all Christmas music all the time from a certain point in November all the way through Christmas day. Last year, it was mid November, just before Thanksgiving.
This year, it was right after Halloween. Imagine my surprise to hear The Carpenters, "Merry Christmas Darling" on November 3. I'm sure the cars beside me thought I was insane as I started singing along loudly and grinning like an idiot.
Needless to say, I don't think we can be in denial any longer that Christmas is coming.
Even if we haven't even had our Thanksgiving turkey yet.
Put on your mistletoe hats and enjoy!
Thursday, September 3, 2009
The Best Laid Plans.....
As you all know, Wendy and I have been training for the 4 mile run/walk at the end of the year. You also know that we participated in a 2k/5k last weekend and walked/ran the 5k. Yay for us! I really thought we were right on track, only needing to shave off about 10 minutes of our total time on the 5k to allow for the fourth mile later this year.
In theory, we had it all figured out.
What we didn't count on was an injury. Saturday, after the walk in the morning, we attended the company picnic and all was well. I got up for church the next morning and noticed my foot was a little sore, but chalked it up to the hard workout from the previous day. After church, Wendy asked me if I wanted to go to the mall with her and Makenna to get Mak some jeans. I said yes, but that I wanted to go home to change clothing and into my sneakers for a more comfortable walk.
This is where I should have known there was a problem.
I put my shoe on my right foot and it didn't fit right. I thought many things at this point: what if it's too tight, maybe it's the shoe, maybe my foot is a bit swollen from yesterday, etc. I changed shoes and put on the same ones I had worn. The same thing happened. It wouldn't fit right. I tied it tightly, hoping it would help support it and went with Wendy.
The next morning I arose and if possible, the pain was worse as I stepped on it. It's very difficult to get dressed and not step on your right foot. I worked all day on it and walked around like I normally do and I left work that night in a tremendous amount of pain.
Wendy and I talked and I agreed to go to Urgent Care. So we set out and arrived there. I was a bit concerned when we walked in and saw 2 people sitting in masks there. But I filled out my paperwork, paid my co-pay and waited. They called my name and I hobbled in and sat on the table. The nurse took my temp and was about to take my blood pressure when I informed her that I have a high pain tolerance and that my bp was probably high. It wasn't as high as I had thought it was going to be. I really wasn't in the mood for a lecture on high blood pressure.
I got an x-ray taken and then hobbled back to the room and waited…and waited….and waited. The nurse practitioner came back in and said the best thing all night:
"I don't see a break…………..yet."
I was speechless. But not for too long. Because when I said, "If it's a stress fracture, it's not going to show on an x-ray, right?" She said, "Right." I wanted to demand my co-pay back, but I was willing to listen to what she had to say. Which wasn't much. She gave me an ace bandage and a note to wear supportive shoes. (Are you rolling your eyes like I was?) Oh, and rent some crutches if it hurt "that bad."
So Wendy contacted a friend of ours who had a boot and some crutches. So I will have to wear the boot for at least 2 weeks. I got permission yesterday to use only one crutch or a cane. I'm finding a cane currently. I was hoping for one with a disco ball on it, but have been unsuccessful thus far.
Needless to say, I'm a bit bummed. I don't yet know what impact this is going to have on the run in December. I'm hoping to start swimming next week. No aqua ex allowed because of the impact, but I can swim. I'll keep you posted.
Cheers!
In theory, we had it all figured out.
What we didn't count on was an injury. Saturday, after the walk in the morning, we attended the company picnic and all was well. I got up for church the next morning and noticed my foot was a little sore, but chalked it up to the hard workout from the previous day. After church, Wendy asked me if I wanted to go to the mall with her and Makenna to get Mak some jeans. I said yes, but that I wanted to go home to change clothing and into my sneakers for a more comfortable walk.
This is where I should have known there was a problem.
I put my shoe on my right foot and it didn't fit right. I thought many things at this point: what if it's too tight, maybe it's the shoe, maybe my foot is a bit swollen from yesterday, etc. I changed shoes and put on the same ones I had worn. The same thing happened. It wouldn't fit right. I tied it tightly, hoping it would help support it and went with Wendy.
The next morning I arose and if possible, the pain was worse as I stepped on it. It's very difficult to get dressed and not step on your right foot. I worked all day on it and walked around like I normally do and I left work that night in a tremendous amount of pain.
Wendy and I talked and I agreed to go to Urgent Care. So we set out and arrived there. I was a bit concerned when we walked in and saw 2 people sitting in masks there. But I filled out my paperwork, paid my co-pay and waited. They called my name and I hobbled in and sat on the table. The nurse took my temp and was about to take my blood pressure when I informed her that I have a high pain tolerance and that my bp was probably high. It wasn't as high as I had thought it was going to be. I really wasn't in the mood for a lecture on high blood pressure.
I got an x-ray taken and then hobbled back to the room and waited…and waited….and waited. The nurse practitioner came back in and said the best thing all night:
"I don't see a break…………..yet."
I was speechless. But not for too long. Because when I said, "If it's a stress fracture, it's not going to show on an x-ray, right?" She said, "Right." I wanted to demand my co-pay back, but I was willing to listen to what she had to say. Which wasn't much. She gave me an ace bandage and a note to wear supportive shoes. (Are you rolling your eyes like I was?) Oh, and rent some crutches if it hurt "that bad."
So Wendy contacted a friend of ours who had a boot and some crutches. So I will have to wear the boot for at least 2 weeks. I got permission yesterday to use only one crutch or a cane. I'm finding a cane currently. I was hoping for one with a disco ball on it, but have been unsuccessful thus far.
Needless to say, I'm a bit bummed. I don't yet know what impact this is going to have on the run in December. I'm hoping to start swimming next week. No aqua ex allowed because of the impact, but I can swim. I'll keep you posted.
Cheers!
Saturday, August 29, 2009
The 2K
Today was the BCBS of Kansas company picnic. The company organized a 2K/5K walk & run and I had decided to participate in the 2K, in preparation for the Miracle on Kansas Run in December. I asked Wendy if she wanted to do it with me and she said yes.
This morning, we arrived at the Expocentre to register and get our shirts. As we were doing so, one of the organizers was discussing people who were walking te 5k. Wendy says to me, "Hey, lets walk the 5K." My thoughts were first like... um no. But I agreed.
So we set out and got to the halfway point and turned around. On the way back, Wendy said, "Hey, lets do some intermittent jogging." I agree and we're off! We would walk along, set a landmark up ahead and jog to that point. At one point, I engaged her in a little sprinting and she nearly killed me. LOL
Needless to say, we finished in less than 1 hour. I'm so glad we did it, even if it took a little longer than I had hoped for. I'll be doing more intermittent jogging soon!
This morning, we arrived at the Expocentre to register and get our shirts. As we were doing so, one of the organizers was discussing people who were walking te 5k. Wendy says to me, "Hey, lets walk the 5K." My thoughts were first like... um no. But I agreed.
So we set out and got to the halfway point and turned around. On the way back, Wendy said, "Hey, lets do some intermittent jogging." I agree and we're off! We would walk along, set a landmark up ahead and jog to that point. At one point, I engaged her in a little sprinting and she nearly killed me. LOL
Needless to say, we finished in less than 1 hour. I'm so glad we did it, even if it took a little longer than I had hoped for. I'll be doing more intermittent jogging soon!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Attack of the Pink Glitter
In honor of my boss' birthday on Tuesday, our unit decided to have a Disco Themed party. We also decided to dress the part. I scanned my closet, in hopes of finding something that would be suitable for the party and still dress code appropriate. Hiding behind a skirt, I found a shirt with pink sparkly glitter all over it. Success!
I dressed on Tuesday morning, watching a cloud of pink glitter fall onto the carpet in my house as I put the shirt on. This should have given me an indication of what it was going to be like all day. It did not. For the remainder of the day, everywhere I went, I left glitter. Today, still, in my chair at work is a line of glitter from where it fell off as I sat there. In my car, it's like a special seat covering. I also went to the church that afternoon and spoke with our Youth Director in her office. I left her chair sparkly too.
By the time I got home, I was covered in glitter. On my face, in my hair, on my neck, my arms, etc. It did not help that it was hot that day and so the sweat just made it all the more glittery. I don't know if you know this, but glitter is darn near impossible to remove.
The next morning, I took a shower and seriously scrubbed hard, in an effort to remove the glitter from my body. I think I removed an entire layer of skin. Still, as I checked my appearance in the mirror prior to leaving, I found more. Unbelievable!
Last night I took a bath and when I went into the bathroom to fill the tub, I looked down and saw it. One piece. In the tub. Nice.
It's now Thursday and I am still glitter-laden. I guess it just means I have a sparkly personality.
I dressed on Tuesday morning, watching a cloud of pink glitter fall onto the carpet in my house as I put the shirt on. This should have given me an indication of what it was going to be like all day. It did not. For the remainder of the day, everywhere I went, I left glitter. Today, still, in my chair at work is a line of glitter from where it fell off as I sat there. In my car, it's like a special seat covering. I also went to the church that afternoon and spoke with our Youth Director in her office. I left her chair sparkly too.
By the time I got home, I was covered in glitter. On my face, in my hair, on my neck, my arms, etc. It did not help that it was hot that day and so the sweat just made it all the more glittery. I don't know if you know this, but glitter is darn near impossible to remove.
The next morning, I took a shower and seriously scrubbed hard, in an effort to remove the glitter from my body. I think I removed an entire layer of skin. Still, as I checked my appearance in the mirror prior to leaving, I found more. Unbelievable!
Last night I took a bath and when I went into the bathroom to fill the tub, I looked down and saw it. One piece. In the tub. Nice.
It's now Thursday and I am still glitter-laden. I guess it just means I have a sparkly personality.
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