Shit. It Starts Tomorrow

I just selected, ironed, and hung all of my outfits for the week. This is standard Sunday operating procedure for the school year. That's right. It starts tomorrow (insert desperate whimpering and agonized cries here). I think I am ready...kind of. There's always so much more that needs doing though. I already have a list on my desk at school just waiting for me. I've already been in my classroom a little over 8 hours this past week in addition to class and professional reading. The start of the year is always a love-panic thing.

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That's right, Kids. It's that time again.

The week leading up to the start of the year is always full of personal and professional items I need to do. I get into my room and set things up. I plan the first few days. I check student schedules and notify counselors of changes if needed. I usually have professional development classes building up to the start, too. This helps me get into the swing of things. I enjoy starting a new year because there's a bit of renewal and redefining myself that happens. There's all this potential and optimism and joy. It's exciting. New lessons, new ideas, new arrangements of the room, and new applications of things I've learned over the summer. I hope to keep that refreshing spirit for as long as I can throughout the year.

@KarstenTorebjer

Me practicing my teacher eyes. They're essential, too.

Personally I do a lot, too. I get some of those last minute procrastinations done like cleaning a cupboard, cleaning out the herb garden, reading another book since I don't know when I might have the energy to devote time to pleasure reading, a massage, and a new haircut (I tend to let it go most of summer). My husband and I even had a kalsarikanni last night.

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What is that you ask, Dean? Let me enlighten you. I think you'd like it.

The last book of summer was Pantsdrunk (translation of the Finnish practice of kalsarikanni). It was like the anti-hygge and refreshingly indulgent. Think The Dude from Big Lebowski and you kinda have the right idea. We had tacos, sat in our comfy underwear, had some beer (hadn't had that in months), ate some licorice and chocolate almonds, and watched some Netflix. I think our show choice, Disenchanted, was spot-on, but the movie, The Babadook, was too serious. Good, but just not light and mindless enough for true embracing of pantsdrunk. We shall try again later. If what I just described sounds like a typical night for you, then you're not capturing the true essence of pantsdrunk. Honestly, I think we've hit upon pantsdrunk before and didn't know it. Bear in mind, drunkenness is not the point. If you're hungover in the morning, you've gone too far.

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Um, Eddie. That's a bit over the top.

There's also the not so fun last minute items like doctor appointments.My annual physical is usually around this time of year. Of course, it keeps getting pushed back each summer, so I might be back to school next year when it comes around. Anyway, a lot of goodness happened at the annual. I feel better with the IBS. My doctor was attentive and actually spent a long time with me. Instead of the 15 minutes some doctors devote, I was in there for an hour! Quite thorough. I had my list of conversation topics. He noted the edema. He ordered some tests to see if my ovaries are shutting down early to explain the migraine spike and heat/cold pendulum. My blood pressure was good. I asked about the rash that is still on my nose. Ultimately, it's "just[my] lupus being lupus". At least it's not infected, right? I asked about all the bruises (I have a bunch of softball-sized ones on my legs) and the weird over-bleeding of a cat scratch (Seriously. I missed dance and thought I was going to have to get stitches. For a fucking cat scratch. Thankfully ice and elevation worked). I wondered if I should stop the low-dose aspirin. His view was that a stroke was permanent, bruises were not. Fair point. But damn! That blood was scary. He did refer me back to my hematologist to get his view on things, too.

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Ok. So it wasn't this bad. But it did pool on the floor 

and the 3" band-aid dripped blood because it was so saturated.

Oddly, I got in to see the blood doc the same week because he had a cancellation. Win! My blood doc said to definitely stop the occasional ibuprofen he'd ok'd when I had my neck surgery, which I had already done. He also had access to my blood test results from earlier in the week. All looked good (vitamin levels, thyroid panel, and nope. Ovaries aren't shutting down). He commented that there's no reason for the body temp irregularities. Well, there is. It's just not the ovaries, Doc. Anyway, he too felt that the bruising was nothing to be worried about. Of course, he's not the one who gets the comments like, "Wow! What did you do? Run into every door you saw lately?" or "Are you ok? You're not like feeling unsafe or dealing with some life-threatening situation, are you?" *sigh* He also asked about how the lupus affects me. I told him. He kinda blew all that off with, "But your kidneys aren't affected?" Nope. Not lupus nephritis. "That's fine." Ummm, not really. I am glad my kidneys aren't affected yet, but SLE ain't all peaches and cream. But he's blood, not rheumy. Anyway, I need to reduce the low-dose aspirin to 3 times a week and see if the Von Willebrand's symptoms subside. If not, cut it entirely. Of course, I have to tell my neuro and rheumy since they wanted it for the stroke risk from my migraines (I have some white spots on my brain). Migraine with aura is associated with greater stroke risk.

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Yeah. I'm thrilled about it too, Mr. Bean.

Not. 

Like at all.

I'm glad these appointments are out of the way because getting time away for them usually requires a half day or whole day sub depending on when the doctor is available. I need to conserve my sick days since I never know how many I'll need to spend for migraines and other ailments. Sick days are also worth extra pay when I retire. I feel better about some health items, but not others. Actually, I'm afraid the migraines will be terrible again. August has been the first month in almost two years that I have had far fewer pain days than non-pain days. I always have spike when school starts. It makes me apprehensive and a bit anxious. I feel ready and excited professionally, but personally I am scared.

moose | ynskjen moose | by ynskjen

Moose, you look like you've got a pantsdrunk Zen goin' on. Can I join you?

Who's the Real Blasphemer Here?

It's made the news again. More sexual assault of minors in a church. The Catholic Church specifically. I suppose I should be horrified or shocked or something other than desensitized. I am appalled at it all; don't misunderstand. But this isn't new. This isn't isolated. This will likely continue as long as Catholics choose faith in a church rather than the safety and grace of human dignity.

photo by Martin Cathrae

Yeah, Goat. People do that.

I read a report from NPR today that said the cost of legal fees for the abuse scandal. Wait. Can we call it what it is? It's not a "scandal." While there is definite moral outrage, scandal implies a one time event. This was no one time event. A scandal might be accusations and substantiation in one parish against one priest. This is not so small as to make temporary rumor fodder. This is systemic conspiracy to perpetuate the sexual assault of children worldwide for decades. It is so much bigger than a scandal and it just keeps getting worse. Anyway, the article said the cost had reached 3 billion. Good. The Church has plenty to hand back since the celibacy thing was the Church's idea in the first place. They wanted their property and possessions and I hope they lose it all. Because the children did. They lost their innocence, their virginity, and their bodily autonomy.

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Which is exactly what I say to any apologists, Charlie.

But they won't. They won't because so many faithful will continue to say things like "my faith in God supersedes the action of any one person." That's a real quote from a Catholic by the way. Again, if it was one priest in one parish, this might be a way to soothe one's shock I suppose. But how that thought can override the nauseating scope of the Church's grab for power over the protection of innocents, I can't make sense of that. If it's just faith in God that keeps you coming to church, then why not go to another church that hasn't systemically and globally sustained the protection of predators?

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That's what I would've said to the Church, Walter.

Of course, going to another church might not be enough either. After all, as one person pointed out and I am sure other agree, abuse by religious leaders is not isolated to the Catholic Church. True. I've written about others and others have been in the news. Apparently God has no problem with allowing such atrocities to occur.  There was that whole Massacre of the Innocents thing He allowed. "Oh, Herod wants to murder all male children so he can stay in power? Eh. Why not?" In light of the rampant assault of minors and subsequent cover-up, it's not all that surprising. Honestly, it's almost prophetic if you replace Herod with the bishops and cardinals who allowed the abuse to continue so that the power over the masses could continue. For some, the sheer volume of incidents in the Catholic Church when compared to other faiths is not enough to make them question where they profess their religious allegiance. Besides, pointing at other incidents in other religions is really just deflecting the responsibility. It's like saying, "But Suzy threw rocks first!" Doesn't change the fact that power was chosen over innocence at a mind boggling scale in the Catholic Church.

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Exactly what I want to shout at anyone I see walking into a Catholic church, Gollum.

Another argument I have heard is the old favorite, "But not all..." Really? When someone says this, it changes the focus of the narrative. It shifts from the agony of the victims to the perceived glory of the Church. Oh sure. Some priests and nuns did terrible things, but look at all the strong and upstanding members of the clergy who didn't. I'm sure some of the predators were seen as strong and upstanding before being revealed as pedophiles. In fact, I know they did. A story in the New York Times covered one parish's discovery that their beloved priest didn't retire, but rather accepted retirement because accusations against him had been substantiated. If he hasn't been so close to retirement, they likely would have just moved him to another parish after some "treatment" and "repentance". This argument is total denial shit. This is just more of choosing to support the faith in the Catholic Church over the children.

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Ah! I see the cycle of abuse has reached reconciliation phase.

Still others claim that the Church is where they found home and solace and community. Ugh! If someone in your house was raping your infant, would you stay and pray for the rapist to be healed? I hope not. I hope you'd attack that bastard and pursue his criminal punishment. I hope you would save your child and provide for their care in light of their assault. Would you be so quick to excuse the horror? Would your sense of comfort and community come in a place proven to support pedophilia and allowed your child to be raped? How sick is that mindfuck? But ya know--people do it. The horror is too overwhelming and they ignore it. Mothers turn their heads away as fathers or other relatives continue abuse. Fathers blame their children for the abuse or tell them not to say such things. Grandparents say it's in the past and getting over it is the only path to healing...along with prayer. Pray for forgiveness and the strength to heal. Fuck that. It's bullshit.

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Even the mime leaves that bullshit behind. You just can't see it. Because he's a mime.

Part of the Catholic mass is the Profession of Faith. It states that "we believe in one holy Catholic and apostolic church." How people can say that now without the words turning to bile in their mouths is beyond me. Professing faith in an organization that offered up children again and again to be assaulted is beyond my comprehension as a human being. It's an affront to human decency. The only reason I can see that the Catholic Church even apologized or acknowledged the terror is because it got caught. It would've kept on with the policy if they hadn't been outted. I guess my faith was never so strong as to continue membership in an organization that protected its power over its children.

picryl

Walk away and don't look back,Moose.

Small Victories

This summer has proven challenging with the chronic illnesses. Every trip has resulted in some sort of weird flare up of activity. Whether it was migraine, lupus, or IBS, something or all things went amok. Prior to our recent camping trip, I was apprehensive yet hopeful.

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It turned out better than I thought, Goat. Thanks for asking.

The morning we were to depart,  I had a list of things to accomplish before hitting the road. Almost none of them happened because I awoke to a migraine before sunrise. This didn't bode well and required every self-care strategy in my arsenal from prioritizing the to-do's to ice packs to the TENS unit. My husband saw my predicament when he awoke and took the reigns for much of the prep and packing of the car. Once the triptan took the edge off enough to function, I helped out. He still got to drive though. Not the best start to the trip and it really put a damper on my enthusiasm. 

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Me either,Marge. Me either.

All was not lost though. When we returned, I did not have the post-trip migraine I've had all summer. I even got  up and went in to set up my classroom rather than needing a recovery day to nurse a pounding in my skull. Getting into work was vital as the building was off limits last week when I tried, and next week I have a bunch of in-service training. I also have jury summons the day before school starts, so getting as much done yesterday as possible was necessary. Thankfully, I managed to get it all done and not deal with headache interference.

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Exactly my reaction, Rafael.

Added to that triumph, when I checked that lesion on my nose before jumping in the shower to rinse off the woods, I was relieved to see that the lesion had not opened again. I did all the same things I did before, but I did use a hat that had a solid brim rather than the sun hat with the more filtered type brim. The small lupus rash is still there, but the open and seeping wound is not. I can cover up the rash fairly well with make-up. A band-aid on my nose not so much. Definite success achievement.

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Totally what I did, NPH. Totally.

The only one that wasn't wholly improved was the IBS. Travel just causes problems. In this case, the vault toilet is a definite hindrance. Let's face it: vault toilets camping are just not conducive to lengthy and relaxing bowel endeavors. Consequently, there was much pain and cramping that interfered with sleep even There was more movement than has happened previously thanks to what my husband has deemed "fiber patties," but not completely resolved. Fiber patties are delightful flatbreads made with coconut flour, psyllium powder, baking powder, and water. Best way to integrate more fiber in my opinion. I had hopes for this intervention, but alas! It was marginally effective at best, and I wound up bound and water-logged.

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Can't win 'em all, EMH Mark 1.

On the whole, I am quite pleased that our last trip endeavor led to such a reduction in my ailment symptoms. Truly. This was a relief that I cannot effectively communicate. Today's goal: keep making progress, but not overdo it. Making some low-carb, wheat flourless, and fiber rich chocolate zucchini baked goods sound like a gentle and manageable plan.

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I know, Moose. Don't push it too hard, but enjoy it all the same.

If Only

Do you ever dream of some detail or aspect of your life you'd change that begins with the phrase "If only"? I came across a posting through a chronic migraine site that asked that question. I read through the author's list and through some of the followers' responses. I was really taken in by this query and decided to explore my own list of "If only's".

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Yeah, it looks strange to me too, Goat. 

Apostrophe s to avoid confusion rather than possession

 or change the y to i and add -es? Tricky for sure.

If only I had a robot
This was my contribution to the online thread. If only I had a robot with a screen of my face via webcam so I could see my class and they could see me. I could keep teaching while also staying immobilized on those days when my migraine makes me too dizzy or lightheaded to move around. It'd also help control the worsening of the pain that happens when I move. Sometimes the pain is manageable if I stay still. Not always, but sometimes.

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Even though it's got sweet moves, not this robot.

Have you not seen Doctor Who?

If only I didn't have to spend money on so many medications both Rx and OTC
I totaled up my required medications. These are the ones I must take, not any that may be incidental. $2095 annually. We could get ahead on all of our debt by anywhere from two to seven months depending on which one we focus. We could pay for a plane ticket overseas. We could pay for some renovation work we've not been able to get to. It might not sound like much to some people, but it'd be a chunk we could put to good use.

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Mine don't do that. They'd likely cost more if they did.

If only I didn't have to see several specialists
My basic doctor office visits total $715.00 annually. These are not immediate care visits. These are annual exams and check-ups to monitor my conditions. If I only had to pay for an annual general practice doctor and an eye exam, I could save $610.00 every year. That along with the savings on medications would be a sweet nest egg for retirement savings/investing. It'd allow us some financial wiggle room we've not had since my husband had to quit traveling with his roofing job.

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See? Two doctors is plenty. Even for that angry dude.

If only I didn't have to miss out
This would be a long list if I listed them all. Coffee with a friend, dinner with the family, or just time to myself to read are all things I don't always get to do. Shakespeare in the Parks is this weekend and it's outside, which means too much sun without an umbrella, sun hat, sunscreen, and UV clothing. Even with those measures it would be a risky venture this summer. It's also going to be 105ish degrees. I'd have to sit in a plastic bin so that when I melted my husband could transport my puddled self home again. I really wanted to catch Othello.

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Handbills at tomorrow's performance.

If only I could win a million dollars
I don't have need of more than that. It's actually more than what is really necessary. After taxes is still enough to pay off the mortgage, car, and student loan with plenty left over for living comfortably (not luxuriously because that's not us at all). We could make all the renovations we need to and sell this house. We could then get a fuel efficient RV and go on tour of all the states and national parks. We could travel off the continent. I wouldn't have to work and neither would my husband, so we could take as much recovery time as we needed on our journeys without worry. We could invest wisely and live off that.

Yeah. Don't let a baboon do your accounting.

If only I could eat what I want
Triggers be damned! If I want a glass of syrah, I can have a syrah without worrying about a migraine or irritating my gut. I could have all the pasta and bread I want. I wouldn't have to worry when we went out to eat.  I wouldn't have to do any elimination diets ever again! It would be culinary bliss.

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Something like that Patrick, but do remember to chew.

If only I didn't have to explain
Explain to doctors, explain to family, explain to friends, explain to bosses and coworkers, explain to insurance companies (don't get me started on the pre-existing condition fights).  Gah! It's tedious and repetitive and exhausting. It's one of the non-painful yet taxing parts of being chronically ill.

You get me, Dark Willow. 

Just don't go do something evil about it, 'k?

If only I wasn't sick
That's the crux of it all isn't it? Each of these little if only's stems from illness and would be gone if I didn't have these illnesses. We might not get that RV now, but it'd be a realistic investment to plan for after I retire. Right now it's just fantasy. Just like everything else on this list. None of this is reality for me or for others will chronic illnesses.

That's right, Moose. Just keep on truckin'. It's what we do.

Lugh, You Big Lug

Lughnassa was this week. If you don't know, it's the first of the harvest festivals. It marks the half-way between summer solstice and autumn equinox. I haven't done much in the way of rituals and whatnot lately, but I was pondering how to celebrate Lughnassa this year before we went camping. While we were camping though, the answer presented itself.

Happy harvesting there, Goat.

We went to a new campground this go around. It was a small campground with only 10 sites. It definitely catered more to the RV/HUGE trailer crowd who want to take advantage of the Hungry Horse Reservoir, but we set up our tent and table shade anyway. We definitely need the shade as the site had no natural shade in the afternoon and Lupus Girl needs her shade.

Exactly what I wanted to avoid, Stewie.

Since the location is very close to Glacier National Park (grizzly territory for those who don't know), each site had a bear box. Bear boxes are handy for motorcyclists and bicyclists who camp out and don't have a hard sided vehicle to store their food in. It helps them not have to string up their food in the trees. Well, we had the Subie, so we stashed food in it. We stashed the cast iron and camp stove on one side of the bear box and the recycle, garbage, and burn bags on the other. There's no dumpster service at this site and there was no need to drive 10 minutes into town every day for the small amount of garbage we produce camping. Yet, our camp host apparently got nervous at our use of the box. 

Yeah, there was a lot of that to come, Molly.

He came over about half way through the camping vacation and asked if we knew what the bear box was (Duh!). He asked if we knew it wasn't a dumpster (Again: Duh!). I said that it's a bear box for food and items with food smells. He said he'd seen us putting garbage in it and was concerned. He was really grouchy and condescending about it.  My husband told that since there wasn't a dumpster available, we were putting our refuse (bagged refuse) in it. If we didn't do that, what were we supposed to do with it? The guy said take it into town. I asked if we couldn't store the garbage in there overnight and then pack it out the way we'd planned. He said we could. He shook my husband's hand before leaving, but still gave us this suspicious look and I caught him eyeballing us more than once the rest of the time. It was odd and it has never happened to us before. I found it more than a little insulting and kept racking my brain for a better way he could've inquired that wouldn't have felt disrespectful and distrustful. Nothing came to me.

Do you have any thoughts on it, Pooh? No honey in our bear box. Sorry.

Consequently, my husband and I stewed over it. I tried to let it go, but I couldn't shake the maligning insinuation that we were going to trash the bear box of all things. I wondered if because we were the only tent folk using ours, and we were directly across from his site if that played into his paranoia. Who knows. But in the morning when I still couldn't rid myself of the denigrating interaction, I took some mildly passive-aggressive action. I scrubbed the bear box. No joke. I washed, rinsed, and washed it again. Inside and out. Cleansed it of dirt, spider webs, and food drippings. I felt better, but not yet mollified. So I did a bit more. This time it was more a letting go than a retaliation.

 Actually, no. I didn't. 

But it is a grain harvest so some beer would have been totally acceptable.

As I admired my handiwork, I ruminated on the fact that it was Lughnassa and such negativity was not what I wanted to be harvesting that day. So after we had secured our belongings out of the box and while my husband Tetris-ed the car, I went into pagan mode. I looked at the clean bear box and thought that since I had prepared such clean space, why not put some positive mojo inside?I collected sticks from the site and made a peace symbol inside the left cabinet and a heart inside the right. A little peace and love action, ya know? 

Exactly, Ringo. Exactly.

Then I looked for some fallen leaves. They were shaped like the spade suit in a deck of cards. I got five of them and positioned them in a pentacle. I used small stones for the outside circle and one to anchor the leaf stems. This was in the middle of the table, which we also scrubbed down as we always do after every meal and before leaving.  We also clean garbage from camp rings, pick up bits of garbage from the ground, and my husband also scrapes and oils the cooking grills  (we're very conscientious campers that way). 

Thanks, Trash Panda. Sorry you didn't get anything from us.

Not really. 

When my husband said he was ready and doing his one last sweep of the site, I walked widdershins around the site (protective direction) and murmured a few words of blessing. I don't believe in praying/casting spells directly for someone without permission and I don't truly believe in deities, so a spur of the moment blessing like this wasn't easy. Being Lughnassa inspired me I think as Lugh is seen as the multi-talented God including being a bard/poet. Anyway, since poetry is part of Lugh's domain and this is his celebration mythologically speaking, I included wording about the area projecting friendly expressions and favorable interactions for all who pass through. After all, poetry is using the most precise phrasing to describe emotions, and I wanted good-feeling emotions associated with this place. As we pulled away, I felt lighter. The animosity and indignation had gone.  

That's pretty  much how I felt, Charlie.

We returned home and harvested some tomatoes, raspberries, chard, and zucchini from our garden. The idea of reap what you sow kept playing in my mind. I don't know if my actions will impact anyone other than me, but that's enough magic for me. Thanks for the inspiration, Lugh.

I would've loved to have seen the camp host's face when we looked in the bear box too, Moose.

Slowing Down

Slow down! We hear it a lot, but we don't always do it unless a traffic cop says it. July 24th was National Self Care Day (coincidentally it was also National Tequila Day). TEDTalks put out a play list of videos on self care. Turns out I had watched a lot of them, but there was one on slowing down.

You are way better at this than I am, Goat.

I've written about pacing before in regards to living with chronic conditions. It's really difficult not to do all the things when you feel well. It's tough to slow down when you feel lousy, too. For example, I get dizzy when I have a migraine. Therefore doing something as simple as getting some water is challenging and all I want to do is get this little thing over with so I can collapse again. Holding onto the wall or the counter as I scramble means I get to where I am going and can chill. Same goes for the intensity of the migraine. Mine often get worse when I move around, so I rush to the bathroom to try and reduce the duration of the thumping. It's kind of a race really. Can I beat the dizzy or the thumping? No. But I can shorten the time. Mostly. Or at least it's how I cope. 

I admire the fierce determination, Owl. 

I tried to slow myself at the grocery store, too. This is a real challenge because I do not enjoy shopping much at all. Crowds annoy me. People get focused on their lists and forget to watch where they are going or they stand right in front of what you need or any other number of small frustrations. I tend to zip in and out as quickly as possible. That day, I plastered a pleasant smile on my face and moved at about half my usual speed. People probably thought I was stoned. I'm not sure if I'd call it self care though. Speeding through and getting home is more self care in my opinion. Self care or self preservation. Same thing, right?

Me going grocery shopping is not unlike this. 

Instead of a bloodthirsty bunny, it's the crowd at the store.

I tried packing for a camping trip more slowly. Taking my time picking up the bin, carrying it up the stairs, checking the contents against he camping checklist I have. I found myself counting in my head to make me take longer in my movements. It was almost a meditation really. There was no need to rush, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either. Knowing I could be done with three bins in the time it was taking to do one was tough to reconcile.

This is something I would likely do more slowly. 

Cat, you got mad walking backward skills.

Interestingly, this session of dance focuses on slow movements to refine them. I'm usually really good at this. I still move the most slowly of anyone. People tend to pace off of me when we move around in the circle for things like a camel walk because it reminds them to slow down. It requires a lot of conscious effort on my part to do the movements that slowly. I slow my breathing, too. I have a song for our performance that is still a month away.  It has faster tempos with the slower tempo underneath. I have to keep pulling myself back to the slow rhythm because I really get caught up in the melody and just go with the flow a lot of the time. But no. Must slow my roll. I chose my song early so I can practice it and only move with the melody speed at precisely chosen moments instead of the whole thing. This will be good for me. Refined movement is good for me. 

Almost, Bear. Try it half time and you'll be there.

I paused to reflect on all the things I do that require me to hustle, or at least that I think require it. Reading a book I've checked out was one that came up that I wasn't expecting. It checked out to me automatically while I was out of town, so I missed out on 4 days of reading time. It was a long book. I devoured it more quickly and would have preferred relishing it a bit more. Cleaning the house is a given for me. I want it over and done so I can get on with other more enjoyable activities. Would it kill me to slow down? No. But I probably will plow on through it next time again. 

 

Just think about all the things you could get done if you were The Flash.

I did try and slow down some things like eating. Savoring the food rather than woofing it all down. It's supposed to be better for you anyway. I thought that perhaps this is one thing I can do to slow down even during school. Of course, I'll reinstate my meditation time. Just sit there and do nothing for a few minutes every day. Slowing down my shower time would be delightful, but then I feel guilty wasting water. Perhaps just being aware of those little things that can go more slowly and letting them is the important take away.

Hmmm. I'd think that snow would slow ya down, Moose. Clearly I'd be wrong.