The Seven Year Itch

I never thought this day would come! We moved into our house when I was pregnant with Kate over seven years ago. We've raved about the location, the views, the proximity to family, the quiet street, the friendly neighborhood, etc. We always think of our home as superior to all other homes.

And yet, I suddenly have an intense desire to move.

Is it temporary? Will it pass like a cold or a flu? Do I need another round of antibiotics?

I must be bored. I do not doubt that what I am experiencing is the seven year itch but with our house instead of our marriage. That's all it is. Strange.

But what if it's something more? What if moving is the right thing for us? What if I'm having these feelings to push us to the next adventure in our lives?

Scott started it. If anything it's all his fault that I am even playing with the idea of moving. He is talking about it and running ideas past me and I am falling for it. We are going through all the different scenarios. We talk about what we would give up and what we would gain. What if? What if? What if? Oh, goodness, me. 

So I have a dilema. I am not sure if these are the kinds of thoughts a person can share with others. Is this something you keep to yourself until you plop that 'For Sale' sign on the front lawn? What if I blab my mouth all over about wanting to move and then we don't move? Will people treat us differently, like we are temporary, because they will think we are moving and then our experience here with be diminished? It's a wonder. What do you think? Share dreams and thoughts with others or keep them secret?

A Special Visit

Tonight, Scott, Kate, my mom and I visited with my cousin who has terminal cancer. We went up to his house not knowing if we would even be able to see him. My mom told me that he is in so much pain that he is just staying in bed and not seeing anyone. We decided to visit anyway knowing if nothing else, we would at least be able to visit with my uncle and aunt and see how they are holding up.

I can't tell you what a treat it was that he was having a good enough day that he could come out of his room and visit with us. As he began to struggle towards the end of the visit and his lips started to turn blue from being off his oxygen for that short while, I felt honored that he would suffer himself to be so uncomfortable, long enough for us to enjoy his company. He was so pleasant. So meek. He carried on with us in happy talk until it was time for him to go back to his room and rest.

But before he descended down the stairs to his room, he snatched up one of the big, soft, snickerdoodle cookies I brought to share and savored a piece of it in front of me and my joy was full. I wasn't sure what my cousin could eat because I had heard that the nausea associated with his illness comes and goes and I just don't know enough to know what he eats these days. Seeing him enjoy that cookie just pleased me. It's a small thing. But since I can't take away all the pain and hard that he and his family are going through, just knowing that for that one moment he enjoyed that cookie I made gave me to feel that I had helped in some way.

The Hair Battle

The whole first part of Kate's first year as a full-time school-girl presented me with a daily battle. The battle usually had something to do with her hair. She had definite ideas of how she wanted it styled but complained to me because of how inept I was at executing the hairstyle or, more commonly, she complained at how painful the process was. She would whip her head around and growl at me, "You are HURTING ME!" She would take it as a personal offense and assume that I must surely hate her if I would hurt her so badly. The whole experience was excruciating for both of us.

At Christmas, Kate had the genius idea to ask Santa for headbands. Something in her just switched over. Once she received the headbands, she contented herself with her own abilities at brushing her hair, however sloppily that turned out, and putting in a headband. Essentially, she cut me out of the equation.

Ever since Christmas, her and I have had pleasant mornings. I don't hurt her while brushing her hair. I don't fail at impossible hairstyle requests. She is ready and presentable for school.

Yesterday, I was complementing her at what a responsible girl she is. I was telling her how awesome she is, how grateful I am that she gets herself ready for school, and that she is happy, and willing to go, and that she doesn't battle me over anything, and so on. She said, "That's because I want to make you happy." I beam at her with pride thinking what a wonderful child I have and then she pops my bubble by adding, "You are SO GRUMPY when you are upset."

Art Stink

I need to work on some art. I have had a lull. I haven't been creating. I am worried about it. I think being sick for so long put me out of the practice. Now I just can't bring myself to do anything artsy.

I don't even know what I want to create. I need inspiration.

It's the weather, I bet. Having snow for such a long time and looking out and seeing shades of white and gray is NOT inspiring.

I haven't been reading the books I want to read either.

It's time to get busy!

Now Kate is on Antibiotics!

Illness has been going through the family. Scott had influenza. I have my weird glands and just finished my antibiotic and am feeling better so far. Now, Kate is the one taking her turn. 

On a side note - before I get to the real point of this post (Kate being sick), I must document (because I don't think I can put it to words enough) that I am amazed with Kate. She is the coolest kid. She is so much fun right now. She loves school (Thank you Mrs. Juarez and Mrs. Ridges!). She is going through this "research" kick and loves to search for animals on the internet and in library books. She has been compiling a "report" about each animal in a Word document. She is so cute about it. As she is doing it she thanks me for helping her and tells me how much fun it is. We've learned some cool things together. We've had some good laughs looking at pictures of giraffes trying to spread their front legs so they can bend down for a drink of water. You should have seen that girl try and mimic the giraffe. In the process of mimicking the giraffe, she got herself stuck in a bar-stool and took 3 minutes trying to get herself untangled from it! Kate is great in every way and this week, her and I have had some wonderful, quality time together.

So, on with my real topic of the day... Kate is sick. She woke up early Friday morning - around 4:30 - and told me that her tummy, neck, and head hurt. She was cute about it. I think it was her first headache and she couldn't understand what she was feeling. And the way her tummy hurt, she couldn't decide if she was going to throw up or if she was hungry. This was all unusual for Kate, who is usually a healthy girl and a terrific sleeper. She's had a few bad dreams here and there and she's wet the bed a dozen times but those days are long gone. I can't remember the last time she's had a sleep disturbance.

So I spent some time with her, trying to help alleviate her symptoms. I rubbed her tummy, neck, and head with diluted peppermint oil. I put a cool rag on her head. I gave her some ice chips and offered her a slice of bread. After an uncomfortable hour for her, she went back to bed with a bowl in case she felt like throwing up. I couldn't sleep knowing that she was feeling crummy. A few hours later, when she normally woke up and prepared for school, I asked her if she felt better. She claimed that she did. She said her legs hurt. I wondered if she was going through growing pains and that maybe her tummy hurt earlier because she was hungry and needed more food. Yet, at breakfast she barely touched her cinnamon toast. But she said she felt great. So, off to school she went. I even had a friend come over to play with her after school. After her friend left, I noticed Kate hadn't eaten her Doritos from her lunch, very odd. Before dinner, she complained that her neck and stomach hurt again. But after she ate (again not as much as usual) she claimed she felt better.

I started to worry about my diagnosis. If she really had "growing pains" she would be ravenous.

Earlier that day, I had spoken to my sister and mentioned that I thought Kate was going through growing pains and my sister had thrown out that maybe it was strep throat. Strep sounded absurd to me. But after hearing Kate say that her stomach and neck were hurting again I began to really put it together. I told Scott that I thought we should consider taking Kate to the Kids Care Clinic right after dinner.

Then I thought about the money and I wondered if I was overreacting. But Kate is always so tough. If she is mentioning something, it's big. She doesn't act like this. I started putting everything together and we headed out. But even on our way there we second guess ourselves again. We stop and look up the symptoms of strep on our phone. We were literally going in circles. Finally we both decide, enough! And we drive to the Kid's Care. We decided that it's worth $35 just to know for sure and put it behind us.

Even the doctor was iffy about the diagnosis when she was examining Kate and talking with us about her symptoms. Nothing really screamed Strep to her either but it was fishy, nonetheless.

Much to the doctor's surprise the strep culture came back positive. Scott and I were so relieved to get it right. Knuckles all around (note to self, always listen to my big sister).

So it's 8:00 p.m. ish and we head to Wallgreens to fill our after hours prescription.

We explained to Kate that she needed to stay away from people for 24 hours so the medicine could clear out the bacteria, otherwise she would be contagious and get other people really sick. Kate started crying and realized that she would miss her friend's birthday party she was invited to go to Saturday afternoon. She was crazy-sweet about it too! She was worried because she knew that some of the other girls invited couldn't attend and she couldn't bear to think that her friend wouldn't have anyone at her birthday party. But she was sad for herself too. She'd already missed the last birthday party that she was invited to in December because we went out of town. She just didn't want to miss this and I could tell that she understood that she was supporting her friend by attending. And then she said, "She's like my BFF! I have to go!"

So, Kate is on her 10-day stretch of antibiotics the same day I finish mine! Yogurt anyone?

Tribute to Mr. Beast

How do I say 'thank you' to a truck?
How do I give him the gratitude he deserves?

We have had our 1997 Ford Powerstroke, F250, 4-door, turbo-ed truck (aka Mr. Beast) going on nine years, I believe. We bought him from Scott's Dad. And all these years, Mr. Beast has served us incredibly well. This winter in particular, because of it's extreme nature, Mr. Beast has proved his worth beyond our capacity to communicate.

Especially with the new tires Big O put on this fall, that truck has never been more amazing in extreme conditions as now.

I have a feeling that our truck has gone through a bit of winter depression in past years. He has felt a lack of excitement. He has felt his worth deteriorate and lost enjoyment in his usual activities. But this year, with all the snow and ice and tough road conditions, I know that our truck has felt a new sense of joy and worth. It's like he knows he is needed and he realizes his value to us more than ever. All the challenging, winter road conditions have renewed his sense of purpose and well-being. He has never felt better. I can feel it when I start him up in the morning to take Kate to school. I can feel it when he gets a good washing or a fueling. This is his finest year. This is the year he was made for. I know he has hoped for a winter like this, all his life.

I think our truck struts around town. I think he looks at all the other vehicles and beams with pride at them. I'm sure he smiles politely at the cars and trucks covered in snow from being left in the elements. But inside, he probably says to himself, "I have a garage all to myself! I only share it with the snow-blower and a few tools." When the new trucks and cars roll, bumper-to-bumper or strut-to-strut from him and mock his age, size, sound, smell, or style, he just revs on and thinks to himself, "Ha! Just you watch. You think I'm old... You think I'm outdated... Old ways are better, kiddos. My body is 100% real - no fiberglass fabrications on me. My people bought me the very best kicks out there and I can MOVE! I can haul a massive load. I can carry 6 in seat belts. I can do any dirty job and still shine up nicely for a date on the town. You can listen to my turbo whistle as I speed on past. I'm faster than you think. I'm big enough to push anybody around. And I can get through anything."

Yes, he smells. He is loud. He provides a warning of our arrival at least a minute before us. I am certain he pollutes the air proving it with a long, black cloud of smoke when we accelerate. His ride is recklessly bumpy and nearly amusement-park-like. He requires agility just to hop in. He has nearly unsightly, maroon interior. But he protects us. He gets us anywhere we want to go. And he is ours. 


I'm still not sure how to show adequate appreciation to Mr. Beast, but I don't plan on upgrading or replacing him anytime in the future. That guy has a place in our family as long as he can hang on.

Update on the Glands

Follow-up post to: Swollen Glands and a CT Scan

I saw the ENT today as a follow-up to my CT scan two Fridays ago. He hasn't seen the scan but read the review from the radiologist, which said that I do have swollen glands and lymph nodes on the right side and they are more pronounced than the left. Amazing. {Yes that is sarcasm. This is information I already had just by looking at myself or feeling my neck.} The radiologist also suggested that no reason for the reaction could be seen from the scan. This is only partially good news for me. I am grateful that nothing horrible was found but I feel frustrated that I still don't have answers.

The ENT gave me a script for antibiotics and asked me to go to my GP to run some blood tests to screen me for any autoimmune disorders. He felt that if I do not have an infection, an autoimmune disorder could be a possible reason for all the swelling. He also asked me to request a copy of my scan and to bring it with me, as well as the test results for the bloodwork, on my second follow-up appointment scheduled for next month.

I am angry that the doctor recommended a CT scan with all the expense and worry that follows. And now I'm mad that he made me pay another $50 for something that he could have easily done with a phone call. I don't appreciate him at this point. He was little help with Scott's questions. He offered no hope and made it sound like this is just how I am, lumpy and swollen.