Happy Thoughts

I realize that my posts have been somewhat depressing lately, so I'm going to do a happy thoughts post. Ready? I'll try to make this happen more often.

I like to cook. I'm by no means a chef and often take the shortcuts, but whenever I cook, people really like it. And I really enjoy cooking. I just don't do it very often because I hate the clean up. I cook like my father. I usually end up dirtying every dish in the kitchen plus every appliance we own. I don't know how I do it, but it is very much possible, trust me. The dishwasher is my very best friend and I have been known to do multiple loads of dishes, just to take care of my preparation dishes! I'm not talking 2. I'm talking...I think my record was 5 loads. Seriously! Five. I would never make it as a restaurant cook. But I love it.

Yesterday, my parents volunteer for our church and my mom always cooks a lunch/dinner because she's there for 8 hours and my dad is there for 4, but goes there directly after work, so it's like a 12+ hour day for him. She made what we call Chicken Enchilada Casserole. It's good, it's easy and it's one of my favorite meals. But she took it all with her. I decided that I wanted some real enchiladas and decided I was going to make it happen Sunshine Style. I make some Mexican Red Rice (my sister-in-law makes this and it's killer, so I tried to replicate it...no contest, she wins, I just can't compete, but it was good nonetheless), then drove (shhhh...it was less than a block) up to the store to buy tortillas, sour cream, cheese and a rotisserie chicken, because I'm lazy like that and just shredded the rotisserie chicken. I made what turned out to be a HUGE casserole dish of chicken enchiladas, ended up pouring the excess chicken mixture and Red Rice over the top, then covered it in cheese and baked it. Yum. I'm impressed with myself. I don't eat leftovers and this is definitely leftover worthy.

So yesterday, cooking made me very happy. And it carried over to today because I ate them for lunch today. Yum. That's all I have to say about that. It was simply delicious.

Next. I love to read. Anybody who knows me well knows that. I'm particularly addicted to romance novels, but not just any romance novels. I have special authors I favor and I own I think every book written by those authors. I read them over and over again. I really like historical romance (pirates and regency are favorite, but medieval are also favorites), but have taken a step away to focus on another passion of mine. The holocaust.

Did you know that a very well known book store, who shall remain nameless, only stocked 10, count them, 10, fiction books regarding the holocaust? Well, according to their database. The books I wanted to read were not in stock and I had to order them online. Luckily, my cousin, Ashlee shares my passion for reading, though in different genres for the most part and recommended a relatively new book for me called The Book Thief. It's Youth Lit, set during World War II, written by death. It's a little disjointed, but obviously, I think and write that way, so it's no problem for me. It's the story of a girl growing up in World War II Germany and so far it tells the side of Germans who are kind of caught into the Nazi world, but not really part of it. Highly recommended reading on my part. I'm only about half way through, but it really gives you a different point of view and helps you understand the struggle and strife of those caught up in the World War II without asking for it.

Another book I picked up because I'm unemployed is calls What Color is Your Parachute? 2010. It's kind of a self-help books for those searching the job market. My awesome uncle recommended it as reading and it's really helpful. Also a very good must-read in my mind. I'm also working my way slowly through that because I'm so caught up in the other book. I'm soooo not one of those people who can read multiple books at a time.

Books make me happy and luckily, I have lots and lots of them!

Though sometimes I complain about them, my nieces and nephews make me happy. They're just so much fun and so unafraid and uninhibited. I love that. One niece in particular (note: our family is not demonstrative in the least) I love just because she is such a lover. She is unafraid to just run up and hug you. I love that because it's so unexpected to me (again, not a hugger), but feels so good. I love that about her. Another nephew, who lives far away in Texas is just so much fun and has so much enthusiasm for everything. He can't help but make you happy and laugh. I love that about him and I love that my brother and sister-in-law encourage that in him. And I love to see my parents around them. They're so different than I usually see them. Isn't it interesting how that happens?

And I'll make a last statement, though it certainly isn't the last thing that makes me happy, but this post is already a novel. My siblings make me happy. They all make such an effort to be there for everybody and are genuinely concerned for each other and want to know how the other is doing. We may not talk to each other a lot, but we all know what is going on in each others lives. I am exceptionally close to 2 of my siblings and still pretty close with the other 2. I think most of it has to do with age. The 2 that I'm extremely close with are ones that are closest to me in age and that I have the most in common with. I did a lot with them as an adult, so we have a more vested interest. I love that even though we're not demonstrative, we all still care and know it about each other and keep up on what's going on with each other and share in little triumphs and band together in times of struggle.

Wait. One more. My parents. They are truly wonderful people. They have helped me more lately in times of struggle and strife and help me whenever I need a boost. They make sure I get out of my room and socialize occasionally. They are there for all of my siblings during times of celebration and times of struggle. They have really raise 5 wonderful children who care and love about each other.

And there you have it. My happy thoughts.

Sick and tired of being sick and tired!

Yes, that's right. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. As those of you close to me may know, the past 2 months have been a huge roller coaster of medical drama. I had a seizure in December and can't drive, lost my job (approximately one week before I had my seizure), and had an allergic reaction to the medication they put me on in the ER.

I took the pills, thinking these were just side effects that would go away, dealing with them the best I could. I finally got in to see a cardiologist (I was required to see him 1-2 days after my ER visit and finally was able to see him 5 weeks after my ER visit), was told I have a heart problem (see previous post for details) and was told it most likely was not the cause of my seizure and was told to go see a neurologist.

Did I mention I don't have insurance and am unemployed? Yes, the whole time. Luckily, Intermountain Health Care is a non-profit organization that has financial assistance, right? Not so much. While the Emergency Room and Cardiologist and even my Primary Care doctor seems to not be a problem...I cannot find a neurologist that accepts this financial assistance program. I've called everybody I can think of. A patient advocacy program, a physician referral number, individual neurologists. The best thing I was told was that without insurance, I would have to have a down payment of at least $50 and escalating up to $200 depending on the doctor's office you talk to. When asked about the financial assistance program, they simply say they don't accept it. When talking to the financial assistance people, they assert that anybody who is in the Intermountain Health Care system should accept it. Really? Call around.

On top of that, I realized the side effects I were experiencing were not only not going away, but were getting worse (probably in conjunction the increase in dosage after the cardiologist visit) and called the doctor to see what could be done. I was given a "tough, but keep taking it because it's a matter of life or death" routine from the cardiologist and no response from my primary care doctor. Duh. I realize I can't stop taking the medication. All I'm asking for is maybe a change to something else? I'm nothing if not stubborn. I refuse to believe that I have to live a life with these side effects.

I should sideline this by stating that I called my sister-in-law, a physician's assistant, on Sunday to see if the things I was experiencing were normal and if I could do anything to help relieve the symptoms myself. She's great. We thought up one solution that sort of solved one issue, but not really. It's gross and I really don't want to get into it. It's bad enough to have to describe it to a doctor or his staff, let alone family and/or blog readers. It's just not good conversation. Sorry.

After a slight tiff with the staff member at the cardiologists office, she said she would talk to the doctor again and see if there is anything that can be done. I heard nothing by the end of business. Frustrated, I ranted to my parents. My dad, genius that he is, suggested that I call the pharmacist and see if it's really true that there isn't anything else for me to take. While it is true that the medication I'm currently taking is the best to be taking for rhythm problems, which is what I have, there are other options. Slightly vindicated, I seethed the night away and waited for a response from the doctor the next day.

I did receive a call back the following day telling me that the cardiologist had approved a medication change, but that I would have to gradually increase it and be seen by him again. Really? Are people really stupid enough that they have to add disclaimers that I need to be seen again after a change in medication?

Finally, I received a call back from my primary care doctor with a "solution" to the side effects I was experiencing (only after the cardiologist approved the med change...I don't know if there was collaboration going on there or not, but I'm slightly miffed at the lack of response by both), which was to take an antihistamine, which I already take and to take a Zantac. I was assured this would cover the gamut of side effects and surprisingly, it almost has. I'm still waiting for some of the side effects to go away, but it's taken care of most of them. Score one for the primary care doc. And I didn't even have to have any prescriptions, just OTC meds. Nice.

BUT. I'm still trying to find a neurologist and it looks like I'm gonna have to shill out the mulah because 2 doctors in all of Intermountain Health Care that are neurologists are taking new patients and neither of them accept financial assistance! AND...until we find out whether or not I'm epileptic, I cannot drive. Could my world get any smaller? Really?

I know it can be worse, but not being mobile really bugs and the bus system around Utah sucks rotten eggs. Not to mention that their prices are exorbitant.

Anybody know of anybody in Utah hiring? I'm searching and really am qualified despite health issues!

Finally! Cardiologist results!

Please disregard all the labeling, it means nothing for this post.

The good news is that I have a totally rocking, healthy heart! No, it wasn't put in those words, but I was told that I have a very healthy heart. Good to know, since I have heart disease on boths sides and heart failure on one side of my family and I'm clinically obese.

The bad news is that my heart is...well...I guess broken could be an okay word for it. Remember the post I posted earlier regarding the Emergency Room diagnosis? That was a correct diagnosis, and it's not medication induced because it was still present at the stress test (which totally sucked by the way).

So the official diagnosis is Long Q-T Interval Syndrome. Basically, there is an electrical malfunction in my heart that causes it to take longer to expand and contract than normal hearts do. I hope that is a right description. It's too technical for me to put in good layman terms. And for any siblings out there reading, the doctor recommends that you get an ECG to make sure you don't have this issue as it is definitely genetic according to him.

But wait! It gets better! He's almost positive the seizure was not caused by this Q-T Syndrome. So I get to go see a Neurologist to see if I have a neurological disorder as well as all my other many issues. Will keep you posted on the neurologist results once I get in to see him.

Admitted

I must admit it, I'm a paranormal freak. I love to watch me some Ghost Hunters on SYFY or (hysterically funny) Ghost Adventures. I've had some paranormal experiences of my own, so other people investigating it is especially fascinating to me. I must admit that I slightly freak out when they actually find stuff. It doesn't help that I'm usually watching it in the dark, alone in my bedroom at night. But that is not my point.

Is it just me or are there a bucketload of paranormal shows hitting the airwaves? Where Ghost Hunters used to be the only show I saw on TV, there is now Ghost Hunters (Still admittedly my favorite and I DVR them), Ghost Hunters Academy (teaching "students" how to investigate like said Ghost Hunters), Ghost Hunters International, Ghost Adventures, Psychic Kids, Celebrity Ghost Stories, Paranormal Cops and those are just the ones I can remember off the top of my head. And is it just me or have the commercials on SYFY gotten careeeeeeeepy?! Yes, I'm a wuss, but I end up changing the channel or just waiting to watch any show even on the SYFY channel until after it's been recorded so I can fast-forward through the scary commercials. I mean, I know I'm getting old, but I'm only freaking 30 years old here! Commercials should not ook me out like this! And oh, I wait to watch Psychic Kids until the morning because some of the subject content keeps me awake at night. I'm not kidding. Am I just getting more sensitive to dark material, is it actually darker than I remember it being? Just some thoughts to myself.

I've never been a scary movie watcher because it messes with me too much. I went to go see the Blair Witch Project and didn't sleep for 2 days, how incredibly lame is that? My friends dragged me (Literally and figuratively) to Amityville Horror (Probably spelled wrong, who cares) and didn't turn the lights off at night for a week and didn't technically "watch" most of the movie. Am I just becoming more of a wuss when it comes to this kind of material? Or is it legitimately getting darker and more frightening? This inquiring mind really wants to know!

Blonde moments

I admit it. I have blonde moments. Lots of them. Especially lately. My memory is completely shot and it's really bugging.

I can't remember conversations I've had with people. That's the most prevalent problem I've noticed, but there are others. Like the fact that I cannot hold a thought process for more than a minute or two. My conversations are so fragmented I'm surprised people can keep up. I think I might need to be medicated for it (kidding!).

The one that is really bugging me is that I've had my discharge papers from the Emergency Room for weeks. They've been in my line of vision every day. I finally picked them up because I needed to find out when my Cardiologist appointment was and realized there was an actual diagnosis on the discharge papers!

First, I am seriously bugged that I cannot remember things I've made arrangements for, like said doctors appointment (p.s. Jan 19th at 2:00 in case I forget again). BUT...I can remember obscure factoids that I really don't need to remember. I blame the seizure.

Second, the diagnosis: Prolonged Q-T Interval Syndrome. I don't know what exactly it is yet as the internet is a bit scary and cryptic. Luckily, I have a rockin' brother and sister-in-law who are doing some research on it for me. And I'm writing down lots of questions for the Cardiologist since my primary care doctor wasn't very forthcoming. A message has been left for my primary care doctor as to whether or not I can start an exercise regimen (seriously needed) with this issue outstanding. According to the Mayo Clinic information, it's a racing heart syndrome that can be triggered by sudden startles such as a loud noise or such. Will keep you posted.

So...can I use this diagnosis as an explanation for a faulty memory?

Walking Wounded...Barely

I seriously cannot make this stuff up. We have another walking wounded in our family. This walking would would be of the furry variety, but somehow that makes it all the worse! Our temporary charge, Cougar (Kim and Leslie's dog), who is staying with our family until Kim and Leslie become permanent residents at another location after his recent graduation (happy late congrats on the graduation and baby, btw!) has become the walking wounded. We don't know what happened, we just know that somehow Cougar ended up with one huge (I mean, HUGE) gaping tear in his side measuring approximately 8 inches long. I have a theory of my own, but it only goes well if I explain some history, which will not be a surprise to some of my family and will be a huge shock to some other of my family. What can I say? I'm only human and as humans do, did something stupid and continued to do it as a twisted way of controlling my increasingly feeling out-of-control life.

Story line: I smoke. I have been a smoker for approximately...ohhh...5 months. It's not glamorous and I can't say I even particularly enjoy it, but I smoke. Of which, I have quickly decided to quit because, let's face it...it's gross...has made a recent cold of mine much worse and it's stinking and I constantly taste smoke. Yes, this is my glamorous life! Before my very glamorous seizure, I hadn't smoked for about 3 weeks and hadn't truly missed it, but decided that I did about the time I realized I probably wouldn't be able to drive for some extended amount of time. You see, I don't like feeling out of control, which has probably kept my life from spiraling ridiculously out of control up until now, which is why I refuse to drink, which I have tried in the recent months, much to my chagrin.

Anyhow. Now you have a history. I go out on "smoke breaks" while living in my parents house. Cougar is determined to be my best buddy, so hence, he has accompanied me on these infrequent excursions out onto the back patio where I bundle up and insisted on smoking a stinky cigarette that I was convinced was "healthier" because it didn't have any additives. What can I say? I'm a master of denial. Whenever I went out, Cougar went out. He likes to chase cars, so I would keep him in the back area of the house, where I noticed his increasing fascination with the bushes back by the swing set. He's too big to get behind them and I just figured there were some rats that fascinated him that he couldn't get at. No harm, no foul.

Apparently not. Today, I was crashed out in my room due to this worsening cold that has whipped my hide and I kept hearing the phone ring and nobody was answering. I dragged myself to the phone and returned my dad's repeated calls where he asked for an old raggedy t-shirt to be brought to him. He said something about Cougar and I surmised that somehow Cougar had become injured and was far enough gone that I figured the t-shirt was for my dad. So much for me being the hero and answering the phone for this urgent phone call. Note to self: do not answer the phone groggy, it's just a pain and we have to fix it later!

I can't drive, of course, so mom is the designated driver, but luckily she calls to get a further story and figures out that the t-shirt is for Cougar to tie over a drain because this apparent accident has ripped a clean 2-3 inches of skin around said 8 inch wound away from his ribs. This is when my mind cleared up and I asked if it could have been a rat (not fully comprehending 8 inches in my mind, obviously) or a feral cat because he had had such a fascination with the bushes for a few days and he wasn't far from the garage door when my dad heard what sounded like a short fight (maybe) and a resulting yelp of pain. The doctor says no rodent can do this and after seeing the damage, I agree. The doctor can only say that somehow, Cougar must have impaled himself on something, then ran away in pain to cause such damage. Cougar, my friends, is not a stupid dog (despite his continual efforts to become BFF's with me)...rather, I think a feral cat tore into him than the theory that he impaled himself on something.

So, we have another walking wounded in this family. And I am attaching pictures, some of which are just heart-rending. Some of which are gruesome. I gave you fair warning. I give you: the walking wounded.

Trip to the ER

I had myself a nice little trip to the ER today. My sister had her babies (one boy, one girl) early and by Cesarean section and she's unable to drive for two weeks. She was released from the hospital today and her husband had to work, so I was the person to pick her up, gather all the stuff from her latest stint in the hospital on bed rest (Sorry, she delivered at 27 weeks. The babies are doing fine, but are in NICU since they were so small, under 3 pounds each and can't breath on their own yet), and take her to buy a breast pump (Is my life glamorous or what...keep reading it gets better), then take her home to her house across the valley from us. Not a problem. I'm unemployed.

So, I got the call to go pick her up at about 10:00 and the hospital was about 5 minutes from the house. I packed all her gear up in the car, then we went and saw the babies. Holy tiny! Their little stomachs were just pumpin' in and out with the speed of the ventilators. I believe my sister said 600 breaths per minute, I can't remember too clearly. Anyhow...we were on our way to Babies R' Us and she realized she left her purse and wallet in the car and in her hospital room respectively. We turned around and got the required items, went back to Babies R' Us and were on our way to her house. We got to her house and we carted in the various paraphernalia to the house. She asked me if I wanted to sit down for a while and I said sure. I folded her husbands suit jacket and put it on the piano and that's all I remember.

The next thing I know, she's telling me not to move and that I had had a seizure. Yes, that's right ladies and gents. I am officially in the broken toy pile! She had called 911 and the paramedics were there and were asking me all sorts of questions like what was my name, what my date of birth was, what month it was (pretty sure I answered this one wrong, it's hazy), what day it is (failed), who was President (answered this right after some hard concentration...I almost answered Bush, then Osama. No...Obama!) and some others. My sister was terrified (rightly so, I was out for a few minutes apparently and bonus, wet myself! That's the other glamorous part) and I could tell she was freaked out just by the sound of her voice. I was carted off to the hospital in the ambulance (not a good idea for those who get motion sickness and are strapped to a gurney) and duly put under observation. My parents were volunteering at the Olympic Oval for Long Track Speedskating and my sister had to call my dad to have my mom meet me at the hospital. Six long hours later, no new answers were apparent. It appears that the seizure was triggered by medication and I will now be going through withdrawals for the next few days because I get to go cold turkey for all of it. No biggie, I can do it. I was released from the hospital and am now home.

I am now required to go see a cardiologist, my primary care doctor and I'm on 2 blood pressure medications. What joy is mine. Oh, and I can't drive. Oh, and my parents are going out of town on Tuesday. Does the good news ever stop around here? The good news is that there are no neurological symptoms and it was most likely a freak happening. At least, I certainly hope so!

So...between the brother in Texas whose family has spent most of the past 2 years in a hospital with their middle child, my sister who was on bed rest for 5 weeks and the babies who are still in NICU, another brother who had a ruptured appendix and still has a hernia, and my stint to the ER, I think our family has officially had enough of hospitals (well, it would have been enough with just the Texas Beam's, but we have to push our luck, of course!) and it's not over yet! At least one family will have a stint in the hospital for the rest of the year (My sister's babies) and we never know what else will happen!

Keep throwing good thoughts our way, we certainly need them!