Archive for November, 2012

November 10, 2012

Methyl B-12

There is this teeny-tiny little pill I am supposed to take each day. It’s one of those “dissolve in your mouth” things, and it’s supposed to taste like cherry.

It is vile. It’s not that it tastes bad so much as it constantly tastes! It probably doesn’t help that the pill, tiny as it is, takes forever to dissolve. There’s this phantom taste and graininess that haunts my sleeping and my waking. You think I’m kidding – I have dreams about not taking this pill. I try to mask it or eradicate it by eating other things, by brushing my teeth, etc. – nothing is reliable. It’s disgusting.

And I thought I’d share.

November 8, 2012

A Needlepoint Post

So these are the two projects I’ve just finished. The rooster I made for me, for fun.

The covered bridge is an anniversary gift for my parents – they had their second date in a covered bridge just like this one. Pretty cool find, huh?

I’m about to embark on a series, canvases made by the same artist who did the bridge. She’s got a whole heap of pretty sweet canvases of houses and scenes from the town I grew up vacationing in, Cape May, NJ. It’s not like I’m doing them all, or even half, but still – should keep me busy for awhile.

November 5, 2012

Since I Last Wrote…

Spaz thou not, gentle reader. I am still alive. But let me tell you about all the stuff I didn’t tell you about in media res. For quite a lot has happened.

  • After Dr. Six was quite disappointed in how much progress I’d made after 4 weeks, I went back to see the doctor (chiropractor/kinesiologist, not MD) who figured out I had a parasite several years ago, and he deduced that I had TWO strains of Candida, and only one was being treated. He gave me some OTC herbal meds (the same stuff we used to get the parasite out in 2008), and when I saw him two weeks later, he said it was gone. Now I’m just taking the meds for maintenance (to keep them gone).
  • Watching the Presidential and Vice-Presidential debates. Great, great fun. Truly.
  • I went on a road trip with my parents (and, for a stretch, with my sister and her adorable baby, who you can coo at here) to a friend’s wedding in NC and to see family in VA. I missed the wedding itself, but it was my sister and parents whose presence was really needed. I hate the timing of some of these bad days. Traveling was very hard on me, but that was expected.
  • My brain has turned back on. Now, it doesn’t work very consistently, and sometimes it’s just flat-out stupid about things, and it still splices and makes up words, but it feels different all the time. And I’m not worried about accidentally making irrational decisions so much anymore.
  • I have started having about 3 – sometimes even 4 – good days a week. That is HUGE. And a good day is not a pain-free day, because those don’t exist, but they are days when the pain and any other debilitating symptoms are minor enough that I can get out of bed and go do things – things like buying this nice ottoman, or tearing out the summer garden, or attending bridal luncheons in Nebo, North Carolina. Unfortunately, the bad days are typically just as bad as ever – quite insufferable, if you ask me.
  • Many of my close friends have been quite busy lately. My cousin had a baby on Saturday; my dear friend Missy and her family got a referral to finally go get their daughter from Ethiopia; another pair of dear friends found out their baby is terminally ill. Friends have gotten engaged. Friends have announced pregnancies. Friends are anticipating babies. And because I’m me, all those things are, to an extent at least, things that warrant a place in my summary.
  • I finished the biggest needlepoint project I have attempted, a rooster with some fancy borders. (A needlepoint-focused post is forthcoming, which, by the way will have lots of pictures and probably some theology in it.)
  • In the past week or so, I have watched an insane amount of period and British dramas – rewatched Downton Abbey Season 2, the 5 hour Pride & Prejudice, and Harry Potter 1-6. Suffice it to say, I am saying things like “insufferable” and “take a proper Sabbath.”

Today I am 28. In my mind, 28 has been a magical age, the age by which I hoped to have accomplished certain goals and been in a certain place in life. To say those hopes have not been realized is certainly true, but this whole health-thing has thrown me off considerably from the trajectory I was on to accomplish a number of my “30 by 30” goals. I aim to use those sorts of things as helps, not hard and fast plans. But I confess I am disappointed, and that maybe I am not so good at refraining from clinging to the things I want. My tendency is to overreact, to not have goals. I am, frankly, scared to think more than very, very hypothetically about what happens after I am well, because I am afraid of being disappointed.

Not that I am all mopey and sad today. Not at all. Just, you know, pensive.

Not a bad thing to be when you’re turning 28.