#and put me on baby benedryl

[spikeyjo]

Me when they half my lithium and double my Prozac

[i-call-me-clarence]

Hey so I was wondering if anyone on here had similar stomach problems to what I have currently. It’s not a stomach flu (it’s been progressively getting worse since an incident I’ll explain under the cut) but it has gotten A LOT worse lately. So if you have gastrointestinal problems I would really appreciate if you’d read under the cut and tell me if anything sounds familiar. And before people go off, I know this does not replace a doctors visit. I’m extremely poor (no job ((thanks business partner for kicking me out of the BHR biz because you fucking lost the plot)) and am relying on family and friends just to survive at this point) so a doctors visit is possibly even a year away.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Forced Starvation, the effects of starvation, gastrointestinal issues, mentions of vomit

Anyways here’s what’s going on:

Okay so backstory. I was forcibly starved seven years ago which over three months caused me to go from 160 to 100 pounds. The last month I had no food at all, just water and Gatorade. When I was finally able to escape the situation and ya know, eat again, I found it to be extremely painful. My dad was an army medic so fed me liquids at first and then mashed potatoes and fruits and some weird bar thing he’d put in water that would make it like a very think porridge thing I can’t remember what it was called. Even the Gatorade hurt. Badly.

I had access to weed and it helped immensely with my stomach issues ((wasn’t throwing up, little to no pain)). But then my situation changed and I could no longer afford it. The past two years I’ve had very little to no weed at all. I noticed almost immediately that my stomach problems were back with a vengeance. Things got progressively worse until one day I drank some vodka (I know, bad idea with stomach problems but I was very desperate and it did numb my stomach and in that moment it’s literally all I cared about)). And then before bed I took two baby aspirin ((I know I know bad idea again)). I woke up about six hours after taking the aspirin and threw up, which was normally how I wake up I doubt it had much to do with the vodka. But when I looked at what I’d thrown up, I saw the aspirin tablets. Completely undisolved after six hours in my stomach which had vodka in it. They were not coated in anything I could easily crush them into dust. I put aspirin into vodka as an experiment and it dissolved quickly. Put it in water and same thing. I still have no idea wtf if happening in my stomach.

After that incident I noticed all my throw up tasted exactly like when it was still food. I don’t think I’m digesting really anything and it’s taking up to eight or ten hours for my stomach to empty into my intestines. Things started to get worse, I threw up after almost every meal. And I started gagging whenever I coughed too. Like even clearing my throat makes me almost puke now. This has NEVER happened before and also when I brush my teeth this doesn’t happen at all.

Last December I had the worst pain I’d ever had after I ate a meal. It felt like a ball of razor blades in my stomach and my stomach felt hard as a rock if you put your hand over it. I was delirious with pain and just screaming and crying.

I started drinking pickle juice ((like a lot)) with every meal and that seemed to help up to February, when I started throwing up food that tasted like when I ate it again, no matter how much pickle juice I drank. So I switched to mainly ensures and soups. I was doing okayish, still in pain, but it wasn’t as bad. Then the weight loss really got out of control.

So I had gained some weight due to the weed so I was at about 165. Cutting out weed due to expense put me down to 160. No big deal. From February to today (April 6th) I have lost 30 pounds. Most of it in March. I came to my parents house two weeks ago. After the first week of my dad basically force feeding me tons of food I had gained five pounds. This was only possible because I started chewing benedryl before eating so my stomach was numb. I’m eating the same amount of food now, but am back to 130 and I have no idea why. I haven’t thrown up recently (since starting the benedryl trick in late March). Why tf am I still losing weight??? Also for reference I’m 5’10 so 130 makes me look like a skeleton (I hate everyone who keeps telling me how good I look, you can see all my ribs and my torso looks like a normal torso that got flattened). I’m weak all the time, my fibromyalgia is ten times worse. I’m just suffering so much rn and can’t go to a doc about it. Anyone have any ideas or similar experiences?

[littlepadika]

Could you do a little who gets a rash from Poision ivy and Daddy needs to take care of little? Maybe with Whisky or fwankie?

oof these are the worst!!! I instantly thought of whiskey because you're outdoors with him a lot. Lamb is naturally curious and loves to play in the yard. 🌱

Warnings: DDLG, gn!reader

He's mowing the lawn when you wander over to him, holding out your arm which is red and itchy.

"Daddy!" You feel your lip wobbling. "I fink i did somet'ing wrong!"

He turns off the loud machine and finally sees what you're pointing to. It was a tell tale poison ivy rash.

"Oh dear. Little lamb, did you touch a bad plant?" He instantly feels his blood pressure rise at. how red the rash looked.

You nod, pointing off towards the alley where you just were playing.

"Did you touch it only on your arm?" He struggled not to touch you instinctively. The rash was from the oil. He didn't want to spread it to himself.

"I-I-" you gulped thinking you'd be in trouble.

"You can be honest. Daddy won't be mad, babycakes." Jack softens his voice when he sees your scared face. "You didn't know it was a bad plant."

"I picked it up and make a bookay with it." You admitted, pointing to where the rash was the worst on your hand.

"I see. Don't scratch, baby. We'll get this fixed lickity split." He assured you, guiding you inside while you held your arm gingerly.

He immediately takes off all your dirty clothes and starts the shower.

"Daddy it's cold!" You complain as he drags your arm under the water

"I know, little lamb, but it will make you feel better I promise."

As soon as your arm is under the cool water it feels less itchy. He washes both your arms generously while you just watch him. It feels so good to have him take care of you though. You feel less worried now that he was handling it.

He dresses you in fresh pajamas that don't rub the affected arm. Once the arm is clean he takes you into the kitchen and gives you some liquid benedryl.

"I said don't scratch." He reminded you when he noticed you rubbing your hand.

"I'm sorry!" You fuss, feeling the itchiness come back with a vengeance. You were so scared that the rash was going to spread. You just wanted it to go away. "It's itchy!" You can't help but be a little bratty when you're so itchy.

"I know. I know." Jack's gaze softens. He normally wouldn't stand for that kind of back talk. This should make the itch go away but you'll feel a little sleepy." He hands you the plastic cup with the bubblegum medicine.

"Okay." You sniffle. "I'm sorry daddy!"

"Ain't a worry, darlin'. It happens to the best of us. This is what daddy's here for. To take care of you." He strokes your hair while you drink your medicine. "Good baby. You did so well with the medicine." He praises when you hand him the empty cup. He washes your hand with a baby wipe just in case some of the plant spread.

He was right about the medicine. Pretty soon you felt sleepy and he put you down for a nap.

"Now I'm going to put some cream on this here rash." He told you before wiping some cooling white cream on your arm. You snuggled closer to him needing his comfort. Whiskey knew it was going to be impossible to keep himself from getting some poison ivy as well because he was not going to turn you away. He scooped you into his arms and nuzzled your face.

"Shh little lamb. Daddy whiskey's gotcha. Ain't nothing going to happen to you when you're with me."

"Thankie, daddy." You mumble into his shirt. "When will the ouchie be gone?"

"Erm..." He doesn't want to tell you because it would make you sad. 2 weeks was a million years to a little. "I'm not sure. But if you're really good and don't itch and take your medicine it be gone as fast as a racehorse."

"Mkay I'll be good!" You chirp

"I know you will. Daddy loves you, little lamb." He kisses you sweetly on the lips.

He offers you a bottle but you end up too tired to finish it, your lips going slack around the tip.

"Aww my little lamb's too tired?" Jack cooed, tucking you under the covers. He decides to wrap up the arm just in case you touched the rash in your sleep or got the oil on your stuffies.

With his vigilant care the rash was gone in a couple of weeks and you were really good not to scratch it which earned you many treats and kissies. Jack blamed himself for the whole ordeal. He shouldn't have let these plants even be there in the first place. He may have gone overboard because he uprooted every plant in the ally and planted a new garden that was 100% safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daddies masterlist

Littlespace taglist: @lafresamilk @dobbyjen @mamacitapascal @prettypedros, @marstheplanet @takochansugoi @oceanablue @iwishtobeastorm @dincrypt, @bac-1, @spacenerdpascal, @cranberrypills @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp @djarinsimp @mylittlesenaar @bbybunbun @phnyx @xwalltoast @dreadwolfxoxo @xwalltoast @mswarriorbabe80 @bearcina @lokigirlszendaya @pedroslilbitch @star-wars-fan-2005 @din-jarhead @hillgoth @m4ngoj3lly @crabbae @im-a-mcsimp-for-mchotties @girlofchaos @joelsflannel @xoxabs88xox

[fayriequeene]

I remember those early weeks of having a newborn! My baby is 7 months now. I gotta tell you, it gets so much easier when you get a little sleep. One good night will change everything for you!

I'd definitely suggest getting checked out for a postpartum mood and anxiety disorder (PMAD). Postpartum depression falls under that umbrella but it manifests in a lot of ways, like anxiety and OCD. There's no shame in it, your hormones are all over the place and you're trying to take care of a new human being! But you gotta take care of yourself, put your oxygen mask on first.

If your husband has got the baby overnight, then you're off duty. Take some benedryl, go into a dark room with no screens, and just lay down. You'll be asleep before you know it.

I'm sorry if this is unwelcome advice, I know it drove me crazy sometimes to hear random strangers tell me what I should do. And if that's the case feel free to ignore me! I just want you to know that while having a newborn is hard, it shouldn't be this hard and it's a good thing to ask for help.

I honestly don’t find having a newborn overly hard (I realise this is probably because my husband is doing a lot of the work) I find the recovery, the memories of the surgery the hardest to cope with 😔 although it’s 3am now and I still can’t sleep

I am definitely going to get checked out and book an appointment with a doctor as soon as I can ☺️

It’s not unwelcome advice at all, honestly thank you because without other people occasionally telling me I can forget how unhealthy a lot of my usual sadness is, (I often write it off as I’m just a bit of a loser lol) I wouldn’t have even thought of postpartum depression if others hadn’t mentioned it so thank you ☺️

[inforeverphases]

Matrescence

This is a series of drabbles featuring Jean and Jakob at the end of her pregnancy and during early parenthood.

2.

Jean had her weekly midwifery appointment the next morning.

“Well it's hard to say- you are definitely having contractions. You could very well be in early labor, this is how it starts for a lot of people. It's also a pretty common symptom of late pregnancy that could continue on for a few more days, or even weeks.” Mary explained. Jean winced when she said weeks. Mary noticed and took Jean's hand as tears pooled in her eyes. “I can do a cervical check if you'd like? See if you've made any progress? I know you refused last week but it might be a good idea. Your choice. Completely your call.”

Jean nodded grimly. She hadn't wanted this, the risk of infection frightened her, but her desire for answers won. Mary gently pressed her gloved hand into the space between Jean's legs.

“Ohh,” she moaned. She covered her eyes with one hand and Jakob reached out for the other. “Oh my god, it hurts.”

“I know,” Mary whispered. “Just another minute.” The weight of her hand inside created a sharp pain that radiated across her stomach and into her back. “I think I'm having a contraction, you have to stop until it's over,” Jean began to plead. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Mary looked at the fetal monitor.

“You are. A mild one though.”

“It doesn't feel mild,” Jean said through gritted teeth. Jakob rubbed her shoulder. “Breathe,” he reminded. “Count backwards from ten.”

“They tend to feel worse during a check.” Mary explained. She took Jean's legs off the edge of the bed and relaxed their pose. “Well Jean, you haven't made much progress yet. About a centimeter dilated. Your cervix feels soft though, and that's promising. I don’t want you to feel discouraged by this.”

“I'm...what? Not even 1? I've been contracting for an entire day and night!” Jean flushed and began to cry. A wave of nausea rolled through her. “I am so fucking frustrated. I can't do this. I’m too old this time.” Jakob kissed her forehead.

“You've been doing so well. I'm here for you, together we can get through the next few days,” Jakob said gently. Jean shook her head and cried harder. “I'm in so much pain, I can't sleep, I can't eat, I'll never get through labor if this is where I'm at now.”

“We call this prodromal labor Jean. It's brutal, I know. I'm sorry, I really am. I want you to try to focus on the progress you have made—the baby is head down, you made it to 39 weeks. That's huge.” Mary put her hand on Jean's stomach. “I want you to go home and get some rest. Drink lots of water, read, just relax. You'll be back here in real labor soon enough.”

“I am too uncomfortable to sleep, I can barely walk. I don't know what to do,” She replied, voice pleading. She felt an unfamiliar, feral desperation as she leaned into Jakob.

“Is there something you can give her?” He asked. “I don't think she's slept more than 45 minutes at a time in a week.”

“We can try some sleeping pills, maybe something to take the edge off her back pain. Have you tried sleeping in a lounge chair Jean? Lots of my patients find that helpful during these last few weeks and...”

“Fuck, I might have to throw up,” Jean interrupted, propping herself up with her elbows. She looked pale as she turned to face the basin Mary thrust in front of her. She dry heaved painfully for a few moments, clutching her stomach and moaning between gags. Tears continued to stream down her face. Jakob held her hair back and tried gamely to comfort her. Mary offered a cup of water when it seemed the gagging had stopped.

Jakob helped her lean back into the bed. “Are you alright?”

“I'm miserable,” she said snidely.

“Benedryl to help with sleep, Aleve for your back. You can take them together. It’s not perfect, but it will help. They are all baby safe, Jean. Sleep is the best thing you can do for yourself right now, ok? Let's get you up and on your way.” She put her hands behind Jean's back and gently moved her to a sitting, then standing position. Jean's movements were slow and painful. She had a contraction while putting her coat on and had to lean into Jakob's chest to stay upright. Her breathing quickened and Jakob held her close, whispering to her. The contraction released her as quickly as it had arrived and she straightened her posture.

“That was excellent.” Mary encouraged. “It won't be long now.” Jean could only nod, too exhausted for anything else. Jakob put his hand around her waist and together they moved slowly down the hallway and out the front door. “Call me if you need anything,” Mary called after them. Jakob waved and helped Jean into the car.

“Should we head straight home or did you want to go somewhere?” He asked quietly. “I took the afternoon off.”

Jean shrugged. “I’m just so tired.” Her voice was soft, nearly a whisper.

“Home then? You can take these pills and get some rest?”

“I think I have to. You should go out though, use your afternoon off.”

“No no, I did it for you. It’s gross outside anyway. Home it is.” Her head was against the window now, eyes fluttering with sleep. The morning rain had turned to ice and the drive was slow. Jakob helped Jean into the house and settled her on the couch. “Take a nap. I’m making you lentil soup. It will warm you up and give you energy.”

Jean nodded, smiling for the first time all day. He loved her. She felt safe. Their baby kicked.

@jeankob

[ifuckingmadeit]

Yesterday was literally the most stressful day of my entire life! I only got one hour of sleep and in that one hour my daughter was playing in her pack-n-play while my fiancé picked up the house. Suddenly she was SCREAMING and crying. I ran out of the room as my fiancé was reaching her. We saw nothing different on her or around her so we just figured she was fussing from being done playing. Once I was holding her I saw what seemed like a million bumps and a rash coming up all over her. I put aquaphore all over her arms, legs, neck, and a small spot on the top of her head. That helped the redness calm down a little, but about an hour later I ended up having to bathe her to try and get whatever it was that caused the rash off of her. When that didn’t work I decided it was time to take her to the hospital because I could t stand to watch my baby girl fuss and be upset and cranky and itchy due to this mystery rash. My fiancé was at work by this time and when I called to try and tell him Clio, my Grandma, and I were en route to the hospital and one of his co-workers HUNG UP on me after I asked to speak with him. I eventually had to call my mother-in-law to be to let her know we were going to the hospital. She ended up having to go to his work to tell him what was going on and where we were. They wouldn’t let him leave so her and her new husband ended up coming to the hospital to wait with the three of us. It turns out that Clio had gotten bitten a few times by an ant and broke out in that horrible rash due to a severe allergic reaction. My younger brother and Grandma on my Dad’s side of the family are both severely allergic to ants; so it made more sense when they told me. We have since picked up her prescription of benedryl (I don’t know how to correctly spell it 😅) and hydrocortisone cream. All of the redness is gone, the swelling is so much better, and there is a considerable difference in how many hives she has. Thank God we took her in last night and they figured it out so quickly. I’m defiant not excited to figure out her other allergies. I am so thankful that she is okay now though 💕

[sidehugsnsideblogs]

The Happiest Helpmeet #31-Raychel’s Wedding

Hello Everyone! Here we are- The Big Day! My eldest daughter is GETTING MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The house was abuzz with excitement the moment we opened our eyes. I was the first awake with terrible morning sickness. This pregnancy has left me feeling so ILL and WORN OUT though I am STILL grateful to be a vessel for new life!

Ray and I spent the morning reminiscing about the early years of our marriage-all the TRIUMPHS and TRIALS! We are so excited for our little girl to be experiencing everything for herself!

As the girls started waking up, they truly realized that this is their last morning all together FOREVER. It was bittersweet listening to them share stories and secrets as they readied themselves for what awaits them.

Raychel has taught Raylene EVERYTHING she knows about FEMININITY! She has taken our muddy little tomboy and painstakingly showed her how to act like a LADY. 

Rayanne has always looked up to Raychel as a second mother. It will be hard for her to adjust to Raychel’s absence but at least she’s old enough to understand that this a GOOD TRANSITION and that this is what she should aspire to!

Rayna, now a toddler, doesn’t really understand what’s going on. I do hope she’ll be able to remember the LOVE and JOY that Raychel brought to the house. Right now, she just wants one more airplane ride with her big sister. 

There’s no doubt in my mind that Raychel’s departure will be hardest on Rayvin. Not just because Rayvin will be shouldering more responsibility in running the household but because Raychel and Rayvin are BEST FRIENDS. They have been since the day Rayvin was born. Apart from my twins they’re the closest in age and are utterly inseparable. Rayvin has already been looking pouty while Raychel was shopping and wedding planning but she’s been trying to put on a brave face.

Once all the HAPPY TEARS were shed, we began to get ready. The bridesmaids gowns that Raychel chose were too short for my tastes but Rayvin and Raylene looked lovely, albeit a little sluttish. Raychel, of course, looked STUNNING!

Once hair and make-up were finished (it saves money to do it yourself!) We all headed over to the church. Raychel and Travis had the notion to have an OUTDOOR wedding but Ray and I had to put our feet down. We have a church so why not use it????

The guests started streaming into the church for the wedding. It looks like Sadia has an announcement of her own!

Ray opened the ceremony with a speech and a prayer for the couple, just as he had for Ray and Sadia. He asked all to pray for the young couple to CLEAVE unto each other and weather all the STORMS of MATRIMONY.

Unbeknownst to us, Travis was so nervous while getting ready that broke out in HIVES! We had no idea until he sent Rayman to the pharmacy to pick up some Benedryl. That cleared everything right up.

Once the hives subsided Travis walked to the front of the chapel, the bridesmaids filed in after him. In liew of live music the sound system played a DUET that Raychel and Travis recorded together the previous week. SO SWEET. I could not help but cry!

Raymond walked Raychel down the aisle! He was fighting back tears as he gave his BABY GIRL away to ANOTHER MAN! Ray Jr’s wedding was PURE JOY because we gained a daughter but this one was bittersweet because we’re LOSING one of our own!

Travis took her by the hands and launched into his VOWS. He promised to always seek GOD in his decisions, to always ask for Raychel’s input as a partner, to love her even when she cannot love herself and to lead her in good faith.

Raychel promised to JOYFULLY SUBMIT herself to him, now and FOREVER. To raise up his children in a RIGHTEOUS way, and to keep him safe from himself and basic WEAKNESSES of men.

He slid a VERY EXPENSIVE looking ring onto Raychel’s finger and just like that! She became his WIFE and no longer our DAUGHTER! Tears streamed down my face. I’m going to miss my BIGGEST HELPER!

He kissed her hand as he placed the ring, dipping her slightly. I almost swooned! How suave! Raymond and I should take a couple’s vacation this Love Day after the baby is born!

Raychel straightened herself and in a very immodest display, if I do say so myself, pulled her new husband in for a real kiss BY THE WAIST! No wonder their engagement was so short! These lovebirds can’t keep their hands off each other!

The newlywed couple then sprinted into the hall to where their cake was waiting for them. We guests filed out too to watch!

Raychel, already such a TALENTED homemaker, baked her own WEDDING CAKE. A white cake with vanilla buttercream icing, fresh, wild mint and syrup made from the berries in Travis’ garden!

In true Strickmann fashion we quickly added some birthday candles to the cake so we could age up Rayson and send him off to camp with his brothers. Happy Birthday Rayson! We will see you again in a few months!

Then it was time to CUT the CAKE! The last part of the wedding. All the children were sent home to bed. Only teens and up are allowed sugar after 7pm!

Raychel and Travis cut the first slice and shared it. Raychel said she was more worried about poking him in the face with a FORK than she was about having her first KISS! If she knew what ELSE her wedding night could entail I’m sure she’d be most NERVOUS about that!

Raymond and I were VERY careful to GUARD Raychel’s PURITY for the entire time she lived under our roof. She understands the IDEA of marital intimacy but we purposefully kept her (and all our children) in the dark about the LOGISTICS!

But I’m sure they’ll figure it out ;) 

Goodnight and Godbless Mr. and Mrs Travis Scott

-Rebecca

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[theaspiringwanderess]

Packing For The West Coast Trail; Essentials, Clothing and Food

Return to My WCT Story | Booking: Reservations/Transport | Clothing, Essential Items, Recommended Items, Optional Items, Food

You Don’t Need The Kitchen Sink - Trust Me

Packing is a BIG deal for the WCT. It’s a lot to pack and there’s the pressure of not getting caught without the essential gear while keeping it all at a manageable weight. My first WCT trek I vastly over packed a 53lbs bag! It killed my hike and was hard on my body and most of the extra was food I hated, which was the worst. My second time I managed 38lbs and it went down dramatically as I ate! I packed everything on each list below (minus the book which i forgot and the GPS which I didnt bring) and still kept it at 38lbs including my food. Always opt for the lightest version. Cut size where you can, even the smallest items eventually add up (ex. some people cut off tooth brush handles, I have a rain shell instead of a full jacket, a double foam sleeping mat is much lighter - but bigger- than a blow-up mattress, an ultra light single unit stove, etc)... One spork for all and all for one spork!

Clothing

The proper clothing is a key factor in keeping you dry, warm/cool and happy. It’s important to keep it light weight but you also must be certain it’s functional for your needs. In 2016, my sister brought a rain jacket she tested and thought was waterproof. A full day of beach hiking in pouring rain later, not only did she learn the hard way it was not, but poor girl was cold, soaked and shivering too hard to do anything but shiver. Be 100% sure about your gear. You also want to be selective about fabrics. Avoid cotton, which retains moisture, and feather/down which loses its loft (heat trapping ability) when damp. Merino wool is a great bet to stay warm and dry and is the best option for socks and sweaters. Synthetic, sweat-wicking active wear is light weight and dries quickly for the daily hike. I also prefer my leggings and shorts to have a zip-up pocket or two. 

I pack my clothing in a waterproof stuff-sack, and I put tanks in one small ziplock, underwear and bras in another, and pjs in a third so they stay dry, clean and easy to find. I keep a safeway bag for dirty clothing and my lesser used items at the bottom (towel, bathing suite).

I always pack my sleeping bag in a garbage bag every morning before it goes in my pack. In the event I fall in a creek... or the ocean?... it’ll add a level of extra water-proof protection. I also re-waterproofed my Lowa hiking boots for the first time ever... this is their second visit to the WCT after all. And, as a random side note, don’t plan to wash your clothes on the WCT. I’ve seen so many people make this mistake. Trust me, nothing that gets wet will dry. EVER. If you have a sunny day, air it out, dry it in the sun, pack it up in a ziplock.

It’s important to note everyone has different needs. You might be ok with 2 pairs of hiking socks! Or one pair of leggings... This is just what worked best for me based on the experiences of both my trips. Customize your WCT adventure-wear as you see fit ;)

3 tank tops, active wear / workout (sweat wicking, not cotton!)

2 pairs of leggings, active wear / workout (seat wicking and stretchy for flexibility and comfort with zip pockets)

2 pairs of workout shorts (sweat wicking and stretchy, w/zip pockets)

3 pairs of merino wool hiking socks

1 pair of wooly socks to sleep in (in case you get cold)

2 pairs of sock liners (major blister prevention technique)

PJs: 1 tank top, 1 merino wool sweater, 1 pair merino leggings or light weight sweat pants

1 or 2 long sleeved sweater(s) active wear / sweat wicking (to wear under your rain jacket or as a warming option in morning) *I took one, but in the event you’re sweaty or expect a lot of rain, 2 is advisable.

3 pairs of underwear active wear / workout (or merino wool if you want to splurge) *for women 7 panty liners (1 per day) to extend your underwear life.

1 bathing suite top (use a pair of used shorts for bottoms and you’ll double their use and wash them at the same time!) ... or dudes wear just your shorts of course!

Essential Items

*For your emergency kit it is extremely important to bring allergy and pain meds. Unexpected reactions and injuries happen all the time. On my Murtle Lake canoe trip, my friend had a terrible reaction to the abundance of mosquitos for the first time in her life and I myself, not having allergies, have come away from the WCT with skin infections and allergic reactions. On average 80-100 hikers a year are emergency evacuated from the WCT due to injury or inability to continue.

1 good hiking backpack with hip belt & chest strap & RAIN COVER

1 pair waterproof hiking boots high top - comfortable, already broken in

1 pair hiking gaiters (protect against ticks, bugs, keeps pants, legs and boots dry, shields mud!)

WCT Trail Map, Tide Tables (provided by parks staff)

WCT overnight pass copy (in a ziplock bag somewhere safe)

$160 minimum cash for water taxi, crab shack, chez moniques (in a ziplock bag somewhere safe)

1 pair ultra-light sandals

1 waterproof rain jacket

1 towel (very small, microfibre recommended)

bear spray

single size cooking stove (I love my jetboil flash lite)

cooking stove fuel for 7 days (2 small cans or one large 230 g can)

long handled spork (this titanium one is the shiznit!)

emergency whistle

emergency kit (gauze, medical tape, various sized bandages, disinfecting/antibiotic cream, a few tabs of common medications such as tylonel, asprin, allergy treatments like benedryl or reactin).

2 regular toilet paper rolls with cardboard tube removed (in a ziplock)

Fire Starters:

1 lighter & 1 flint striker (learn how to use it! This is a great video)

Dependable fire starter (2 or 3 tiny balls of dryer lint rolled with a small amount of unscented vaseline inside a ziplock bag work great in wet weather and will burn for 10-15 mins)

sunscreen

2 (1 litre) water bottles OR 1 bottle and a 2 litre camel back water bag

Water purification tabs (my go-to is Pristine brand). Ensure they are the 30 minute variety (not 1-3 hours). Alternatively some people use a UV light but this does require batteries and adds weight

tarp, lightweight

paracord (15 m or 50 ft)

2 carabiners, 1 that can hold 50 lbs, 1 small light (for random things)

1 sleeping bag, synthetic fill (ideally good for +5 celcius)

1 waterproof tent with rainfly (*I have a cheap 2 person waterproof coleman tent with a tarp bottom that I later bought replacement aluminum poles for. The poles made a 5lb tent a 3lb tent - impressive investment. I pack the poles and my friend the tent body = 1.5lb/each)

cell phone (I use my phone camera a lot so I brought 2 backup chargers. Solar charging is not an option given fog)

3 extra large black garbage bags and  

3 large ziplocks (for trash, as an emergency poncho, keep feet dry in wet boots, the uses are endless)

1 pocket knife

1 flashlight

sunglasses

closed cell foam sleeping pad or light weight blow up mattress pad

1 watch, battery or wind-up water proof or at least resistant - digital watches can get damaged when wet or expensive watches ruined)

1 poop trowel.. yes you read that correctly - the plastic kind

1 bug spray (there weren’t many bugs, lots of wind though!)

2 travel sized hand sanitizers (for covid & as well after nature’s call)

1 emergency blanket

1 small soap or body wash (environmentally friendly brand)

1 travel toothpaste & toothbrush [small]

gloves (fingerless mesh back type for weight lifting is best)

neck gaiter (*instead of a hat - can double as a hat)

Other Recommended Items

unscented lip balm... you don’t want to smell like a walking buffet

1 light weight sleeping bag liner to keep sand and dirt out (I prefer silk)

ball cap or foam visor *non-water absorbing (this can be worn on a sunny day or under a rain hood to keep rain off your face).

1 emergency plastic poncho

1-2 hair ties (it gets wet and windy and they double as pack ties!)

sweat band

baby wipes (good for cleaning your face, or dishes...)

a small book or time passer (don’t bring a giant novel)

Items I’d Consider Optional

rain pants (*optional as long as you have a long waterproof rain jacket. gaiters provide extra leg protection or if its warm don shorts! skin dries)

small camera with good battery life (not necessary if you use your phone)

pen and paper for notes or emergencies

small GPS or Spot satellite device

1 waterproof phone case (if you bring a phone)

1 extra light pillow (optional - i had one this time but usually use my sweater)

Food Recommendations

On the WCT you are expending roughly 3000-4000+ calories per day. That’s more than double the average 120lb marathon runner going hard for 2 hours if they ran 12 miles. You are Climbing, Hauling, Pushing, and your feet are operating at the agility level of “expert cat on steroids”. So, essentially you NEED the calories. But packing the right amount (and weight) of food is challenging. I’m happy to report this time I ate it all by the end so it was the perfect amount. If you find you are running low or forgot something, you might be able to grab it from the Nitinaht crab shack and likewise if you over pack you can leave extra food there for someone else. But please, do NOT leave garbage.

**Note, I must, must stress - DO NOT leave garbage on the trail. There is no garbage removal service. Parks staff do not remove it and with covid there are fewer staff in general. Garbage is a major bear attractant and you put others at risk leaving it behind. 2021 is a year with only Canadians allowed on the WCT and the amount of garbage was appalling.

The WCT, and island in general, is VERY humid. It’s best to bring items in individual packages, otherwise things clump or mush. On our first trip, my sister brought important medications that melted and became extremely difficult to take. My advice is to pack any daily meds you must bring in the plastic containers with individual days. This way if something similar happens to you, you can still be safe knowing the amount taken.

Additionally, I work with a very simple but effective system of ziplock bags. This keeps everything fresh, organized, and easy to find as you go. I have one large ziplock for breakfasts, one for lunch & snacks, and one for dinner. As I finish breakfast I move it to the bottom of my bear bag and put lunch/snacks on top for easy access and so on - Ta-da!

I consider lunch and snacks the same thing as we never stopped for a cooked meal mid-day. In 2016 my sister talked me into doing dried lentil dinners and it was the WORST (... for me, she loved it!). It made it hard for me to want to eat, which was a big set back. I have this vivid memory burned into my brain from our first trip of an adorable father - daughter duo whom we criss-crossed a lot. One rainy day he had her tucked up under a tree eating the most delicious looking meat and cheese sandwich and my instant thought was ‘awww, so cute... I’d kill you for that sandwich though...”. Who knew a sandwich could insight such murderous intent?!

My lesson learned was when it comes to physically demanding, multi-day hikes, pack healthy but also things you enjoy eating. I strive for light weight first and foremost. I love fruit but it doesn’t pack well, so items like fruit leathers work well. Real, individually wrapped, cheese sticks are a great too; by day 5 they get soft or oily, but they never go bad (harder cheeses like cheddar are naturally preserved), so I stick to 4 or 5 day cheese supplies. My ultra-favourite hiking snack - individual wrapped rice crispy squares! I pack 2 per day... and a couple extra for desserts! I never packed enough of each junk food to have one for every day, instead with treats I generally aimed to have 4-5 of each and mix it up. In between hikes, I also spend some time picking up and trying different types of nuts. Don’t get me wrong, peanuts are good, but after 4 days they get pretty boring. I often pop into a Winners or Home Sense store and look for enticing types of nut mixes and I’ll keep them in my car to snack on and decide if its a keeper.

Im also very careful about toothbrushing too because prolonged periods of hiking without proper dental care wrecks havoc on your teeth.

Ok! Down to the nitty-gritty! My dinner ziplock has 1 dinner for each night and sometimes a hot (dehydrated) dessert. And I have a small ziplock for items like my toothbrush, toothpaste, body wash slips, and anything else that might need to go in the bear bag. Again, I’ll preface this by saying its important to note everyone’s needs are unique and based on the experiences of both my trips, this is the food I packed.

Breakfast Ziplock

7-8 easy breakfasts (i pack 1 peaches & cream oatmeal for each morning and an extra in case we missed the bus).

coffee - starbucks via’s have been my favs! but nescafe also makes individual coffees and a fab toffee nut cappuccino option!

sugar and powdered creamer (individual pkgs) & tea in a smaller ziplock

a smaller ziplock for toothbrush/paste, body wash etc

Lunch / Snacks Ziplock

bag of beef jerky

individual (real) cheese sticks (usually cheddar, or a hard variety works best, soft cheese goes bad faster)

a few bags of different varieties of nuts (*lemon sea salt almonds, tamari nut mix, cilantro lime cashews, Dare brand Vietnamese coffee flavoured macadamia nuts)

2 bags snack sized hawkins cheezies

5 individually pkgd M&M’s chocolate & oatmeal cookies (*the M&M cookies were crumbly, the oatmeal squished but stuck together!)

16 Rice crispy squares - my ultra-fav hiking snack, individually wrapped (2 per day + couple extras)

4 fruit leather bars in a smaller ziplock

4 snack sized oh-henrys in a smaller ziplock

2 bags Stinger caffeine gummies & 2 capsules Nuune electrolyte/caffeine tabs in a smaller ziplock

Dinner Ziplock

1 dinner for each night and sometimes a hot (dehydrated) dessert

Presidents Choice brand (bagged) vegetarian chili *this was a new try for me, normally I advocate for dry only food because wet is messy, can leak, is heavy and can go bad fast. BUT! I ate this the first night on the trail so it was gone quickly, and it stood up to the abuse and was only $3!

AlpineAire potato cheddar soup (dehydrated) is my fav dinner. fast, hot, make in the bag, and tasty!

2 Stove Top brand stuffing; cut a small hole, let out the air, retape. write water and instructions on the bag. Throw away the box. (*mix with 1 pkg gravy)

1 Instant mashed potatoes; cut a small hole, let out the air, retape. write water and instructions on the bag. Throw away the box. (*mix with 1 pkg gravy) - FYI this is a BIG meal, make only what you can eat or bring a smaller amount if you cant eat the whole thing.

3 pkgs reduced salt gravy mix

1 Nomad Nutrition vegetarian shepards pie dehydrated meal.

1 dehydrated dessert hot option (maple rice pudding this time!)

Return to My WCT Story | Booking: Reservations/Transport |

[yourtypeof-metal]

welp day two of awful days... today my baby boy, my dog Pig, jumped onto the kitchen chair and got his leg stuck in the slats of the backing of the wooden chair as he fell backward. I screamed and he yelped and I immediately starting bawling my eyes out into his coat because I saw him limping. He has a vet appointment in the morning but I’ve just been crying non stop for three hours because I feel so so bad and I could have helped him I’d id gotten to him a second sooner. My birthday is in two days and this entire week has just been so awful and I feel so bad and I’m just praying that Pig doesn’t have anything broken. He can walk and put pressure on it and is still jumping on the couch but he does it all with a limp and I know he’s hurting. So it’s a good sign that he can still put pressure on it, really hoping it’s just a sprain...I have him some of his benedryl and he’s now asleep beside me as I lay in bed with him. I moved my mattress onto the ground so he didn’t have to jump or anything because he sleeps with me. Please keep my baby in your thoughts. 💕

[merysmiles-blog]

The Friend Zone vs. The Attractive Zone, Part 2

The Attractiveness Plane

But wait, how do I get out of the friend zone? I’ve tried and tried and tried, but I’m still stuck—and I haven’t been family zoned! What do I do?

Well first, recognize that overlapping the Relationship Plane is the Attractiveness Plane, and that everyone has both. Then figure out what the heck the Attractiveness Plane is.

Zones of the Attractiveness Plane:

Attractive

Unattractive

Meh

Nonexistent

The attractive zone holds all the attractive people, like your significant other(s) and that one celebrity, um, Benedryl Jazzhands or whoever. The unattractive zone is where you put all those unattractive people, like Mrs. Can-I-Speak-to-a-Manager and that one guy who kept hitting on you after you said ‘You’re making me uncomfortable, please stop.’

The meh zone is for all those people who are neither attractive nor unattractive, or perhaps both at once. And, of course, the nonexistent zone is for people you don’t even know exist.

Now, poor soul just trying to get a date, we come back to your predicament: you’re stuck in the friend zone and just can’t seem to get out. Don’t turn to being a raging jerk just yet! Because while you’re in the friend zone on the Relationship Plane, you might be in the meh or unattractive zones on the Attractiveness Plane.

But I’m really nice! Why would I be in the unattractive zone?

Maybe the person you’re into prefers another gender/sex, or maybe they prefer someone who’s a little more mature, or who has longer hair. Maybe they don’t like you for what your political views represent (ex: supporting killing babies or torturing their friends for something they can’t help).

How do I tell what zone I’m in on the Relationship Plane?

Ask. Seriously, ask. “Hey, do you think I’m attractive?” If they seem reluctant, you’re probably in the unattractive zone. If they can’t answer, you’re probably in the meh zone. If they start listing off things, then you’re most likely either in the attractive zone, or they can see you being in someone else’s attractive zone. Maybe they’re not into you, but they can totally see how someone else would be into you. For example, I have a friend who’s super sweet, pretty, talented, etc. I’m not into her because I’m not into women, so she’s in my unattractive zone, but I can totally see her being in someone else’s attractive zone.

I’m pretty sure I’m in the unattractive zone, but I really like them! What can I do?

Figure out why you’re in the unattractive zone. Is it because you’re hard to get along with? Does your appearance not match up with what attracts them? Do they have psychological issues that link ‘abuse’ with ‘love’? Is it something else? Find out. If it’s something you can change (maybe they prefer someone who’s more active), try it if you want. If you don’t want to change, or if you’re in the unattractive zone because of something you can’t change (like gender/sex), don’t. Move on. Find someone else. It’s like in the Sims 2, you had turn-ons and turn-offs. It’s easier to find another sim—I mean person. There’s plenty out there, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

[gingerreckoning]

We Need to Talk More

Originally written in September of 2015

September is National Suicide Prevention Month, and it really comes at an important time for me this year. Over the past few months I have really taken control of my mental health, and I am in a really great place. Probably in a better place than I have been in years, if ever. While it feels amazing, it is also a little bit scary, because the happiness I feel right now, the solidity, purpose, and hope I'm currently experiencing, is so deeply contrasted against the dismay I was feeling only a few months ago. It's like when your eyes adjust to the darkness... You think you are seeing okay until someone flips on the light and you realize how wrong everything was. This isn't a recent struggle for me. I started exhibiting symptoms of my depression around 15 years old. My parents chalked a lot of it up to my being moody, mostly writing it off as typical teenage antics. I'm not exactly sure when it became something more than that, but my mom whisked me off to the psychiatrist, who put me on a low dose antidepressant. That worked for several years. I certainly still had bad days, but all in all things were well managed with 10mg of prozac every day. A small price to pay for sanity during my teenage years, when I look back on it. But I certainly felt embarrassed by it. There were definitely people making me feel that way. Suggestions swirled around me, making me feel incompetent. Why couldn't I just suck it up? Everyone has bad days. Why was I being so dramatic? Didn't I feel like I was getting enough attention? All of those things ate at me slowly, like an acid, burning me layer by layer. I recall very clearly the first time I thought about committing suicide. It was New Year's Eve. 2005. I was 17 and we were in Orlando, Florida. We had taken a family trip to Disney World. Maybe that's why I remember it so clearly, the stark contrast between the most magical place on earth and my feelings of unending hopelessness. I was in a hotel room with my brothers, my parents were in a room next door with my sisters. I was feeling incredibly low. I had no energy and the stress of pretending I did was beginning to crush me. My dad had just finished scolding me. In his mind the reason I was so mopey was because I was missing my boyfriend. Again, it was being chalked up to teenage angst. In his defense, I'm not sure I could have identified it as anything else on my own either. I was taking my medication as prescribed, so surely that was enough to render me "un-depressed." But I didn't feel that way. I felt alone. I felt hopeless and hated and angry. I kept looking around the room, trying to determine exactly what I could do about it. I remember unpacking bottles of tylenol and benedryl and wondering just how many I would have to take to fix this problem. I'm not sure why I didn't. I don't really remember that part of it clearly. A few days later we went back home and everything went back to normal. During my senior year of high school I opted to increase my medication to 20mg. Stress seemed to be hitting me harder, and I felt like I needed more help. A simple increase was enough to fend off the anxiety and sadness and I was glad for the little bit of help. I was headed off to college, I had broken up with my boyfriend, and I was feeling like a new woman. I think the end of my senior year and the summer after were really happy times for me. I moved away to college, and I think that's when my mental health started its down hill trajectory. I didn't take care of myself. I was inconsistent at best with my medication. I was stressed out and chose to fix that by burying myself in my studies. I began to self-harm again when I became particularly stressed out. I would have complete breakdowns at least every two months, where I would sob for hours, sleep for about 13 hours, drag myself to class looking like a mess, then begin the process over again. But I convinced myself that I had it under control. I knew myself and I knew my limits, so clearly I was managing. Upon my graduation, I visited my doctor and proudly declared that I did not need my medication because I had it handled. About a month later I was pregnant with Nathan. Halfway through my pregnancy I realized that I was not fine and I needed help. I was angry all of the time, I was having complete meltdowns about simple things, far past normal pregnant mood swings. I remember one night, laying curled up in a ball in the middle of the living room, completely unable to move or speak, just sobbing. During one of my routine appointments I brought it up with my doctor and she put me back on my 20mg of Prozac. There was some risk to the child, she explained, but certainly in my case it was less than the risk I was posing to myself. She also explained that my history of depression put me at increased risk of postpartum depression. You see your doctor once after you have a baby, 6 weeks after you are released from the hospital. That is the extent of the the care that is required. During that appointment, you are screened for postpartum depression using what is called the Edinbugh Post Natal Depression Scale. It includes statements like "I have blamed myself unnecessarily when things went wrong" and "I have been anxious or worried for no good reason," which then are rated and scored to test for depression. I'm sure that the screening means well. But I find it sort of silly. When I am deep in the throes of depression, I don't feel like I'm blaming myself unnecessarily. It seems completely reasonable. In addition, six weeks postpartum is incredibly early to diagnose depression. I know very few people who felt it set in that quickly. Mine hit at about 4 months postpartum. I don't fully even remember how I knew, but I remember talking to Dan and saying "I need to do something." I had been dealing with it long enough to know the signs, and I was headed down the wrong path. A visit with my doctor, and another increase in meds. 40mg of Prozac daily, and I was doing fine. I continued that way through my next pregnancy. Again, I passed my postnatal exam with flying colors. This baby was much easier. She slept better, she was an expert at breastfeeding, she was growing and happy and perfect. I was nailing the mom thing. I had two kids, but my house was clean, I was working, and my marriage was great. And just then just like that it wasn't. I started feeling agitated. I wasn't sleeping. Then I was sleeping all the time. I stopped showering. I got up, nursed the baby, then went back to bed. I didn't feel like doing anything. Another trip to the doctor. She explained that pregnancy had changed my body, and perhaps I was no longer responding to the medication as I had in the past. She switched me to a low dose of Zoloft, and asked to see me in a month. Over the course of the next two years, I was in to see my doctor almost every month. I was having panic attacks. I had migraines. I was crying. I was angry. I was falling apart. I don't think I can count how many times I contemplated suicide. I was losing myself slowly to this dark monster, and despite my best efforts, I saw no end to it. I was doing everything I was supposed to, but I couldn't gain control. And that was the scariest part. I was taking my medication. I was talking to my doctor about my concerns. But I wasn't getting better. We kept increasing my medication, trying to find the right balance to treat both my ongoing depression and my newly realized anxiety. I was fighting tooth and nail to keep my head above water, but lying to everyone around me about just how bad it was. I was self medicating when I could. I had been given hydrocodone to treat my migraines since I was still nursing and nothing else was really safe. I began making up excuses to take it, suggesting that my back was really bothering me, or my sciatica was particularly bad. I just wanted to be numb for a little bit. I couldn't find a way to be happy, but at least I could stop hurting. Certainly I knew it wasn't right. But I wasn't getting relief any other way. I was doing the things my doctor told me to do, but I wasn't getting better. I was looking for anything to make it okay. My thoughts were constantly turning to ways to fix this deep, dark smoke that was billowing up around me. I contemplated suicide over and over again. The one thread that was holding me to reality was my baby. I kept telling myself that if I died, if I took my own life, she wouldn't be able to eat. Simply put, I couldn't kill myself because I didn't have enough breast milk stored up in the freezer. I continued not to sleep for ages. I would get a few hours, then wake up in cold sweat with my mind racing. I couldn't fall back to sleep. I was constantly on edge. I was having panic attacks nearly daily. A year into my official treatment for this problem and I still wasn't getting better. Eventually Eleanor stopped nursing. She was about a year and a half at that point. I was able to start taking something to combat the anxiety, an immediate release medication to calm me during panic attacks. I was given 0.5mg of Ativan, along with my Zoloft, which was up to 75mg at that point. Since I was no longer nursing, I could start drinking again. Not heavily, but certainly more frequently. I would have a drink every night after the kids went to bed. Anything to calm my nerves and slow things down. During this time everything came crashing down. My job situation fell apart due to company wide changes. I had to reapply and re-interview for a position that I had held for 9 years. They were insisting that everyone start working full time. I knew that we couldn't afford the daycare for that, and quite frankly, I knew that I couldn't handle that. I spiraled even deeper. At one point I met with my doctor and tried to explain things as best I could. One of the standard questions they ask about depression is "Do you think things will get better?" I was adamant that they wouldn't. Sure, we might find a treatment that keeps this black monster at bay. But for how long? This wasn't a rain cloud, some external force ruining my day. This thing was inside of me. It had always been there. It would always be there. Certainly I could fight it down, lock it in a cave for some unknown period of time. But it would always be there. Finally, we tried a new medication, immediately titrating up to a higher dose. If you are keeping track, this would mark the sixth medication change since Eleanor's birth, just under two years of fighting. And that was what it was-fighting. Every step of the way. Fighting to get myself out of bed. Fighting to get dressed. Fighting to take care of my family. Fighting to get to work. Fighting to keep my job. Fighting for my life. It was exhausting. And that is really the thing about mental health- it takes everything to function an even a basic level, much less advocating for yourself, which is what is really needed for quality treatment in most cases. If I hadn't been aware of myself and how I behave when my depression worsens, what symptoms really manifest, it could have been much worse. I was doing everything I was supposed to, following up with my doctor, taking my prescribed medication, all of it. And I was still struggling. How can we expect people around us who are suffering to just be okay? We eventually found the right dose and medication. I take 20mg of Lexapro daily. It keeps me sane. When I'm off of medication I'm very insistant that I don't need it, that I shouldn't have to take a pill every day to feel normal, that maybe-just maybe- unmedicated me is the real version of me. But when I'm back on the medication I realize that one pill a day is a small price to pay to feel like a whole person. I'm doing much better now. In November of last year I began the process of getting an ADHD diagnosis. This involved more fighting for myself- weeks of phone calls to different offices, being told they weren't taking new patients, being told that I had been added to a wait list only to find out that I hadn't, requesting to get medication in the mean time until a diagnosis could be provided. In all it took about two months of phone calls to get an appointment scheduled, then another four months of waiting to get in, and a full month of appointments (one appointment per week for four weeks) to get a diagnosis. I got my official diagnosis in June. I am still working with a psychiatrist to adjust my medication to adequate levels, but I'm doing much better. I always thought I would turn down medication even if I did get a diagnosis, but I'm glad that I decided to accept the help being offered. This process alone has been life changing. I've learned that a lot of the behaviors that I've really been hard on myself about are part of my disease. I'm learning to deal with that. Moreover, I'm just learning to be gentle with myself. I know that sometimes I just need to take care of me. But there are certainly some sad realizations to come out of this. First, the realization that I will probably never be rid of this creeping black smoke. It will always reside somewhere inside of me. It is still deeply upsetting to me to think about that part of it. The thought that this will be a constant, lifelong struggle for me is very disheartening. In truth, it is the nexus of everything I feel when I am in that deep dark place. When the voice inside of my head is telling me that things will never get better, I know there is some small kernel of truth to it. I'm certainly not saying it won't get better at all. I can control my symptoms. I can live a fairly healthy, happy life. But I will never be cured. The second realization is that my family has likely grown as far as it ever will. I grew up in a big family. While there were many things I didn't like about being the oldest of five kids, I certainly could understand why someone would want a big family. When Dan and I discussed how many children we wanted I always envisioned two as my very lowest limit. Life is a funny thing that way. The universe cares very little for our grand plans. I love being a mom. It makes me insanely happy. It feels right. I love watching my children grow, I love helping to shape them. I love watching them become loving, empathetic beings who will do great things. It makes me sad to think that I won't feel a baby move inside me again, or feel a tiny being snuggled up to me in the middle of the night while I nurse. It's a very difficult thing to say that I, at only 26 years old, will not have any more children. In the end, however, I have a difficult choice to make. I have two beautiful, healthy, happy children who deserve everything I can give them. They deserve me at my best. I could have another baby. My body is capable. In doing that, though, I risk that baby, and my children now, not having a mother. I have spoken to my doctor about this. Research shows that if you have postpartum depression after your first child you are even more likely to have it after a second child. It does not seem that there is a lot of research on what happens beyond that. Would it necessarily be worse with a subsequent pregnancy? No one can really answer that for me. Only I can answer for what I am willing to risk. I don't think I could repeat the events of the previous two years. I certainly couldn't handle anything more than that. In addition, the medications that I am taking now to manage my symptoms are not safe for pregnancy, meaning I would have to forgo them completely or turn to an alternative, which is a very risky process. Being on the wrong medication or even the wrong dose can be worse than being on nothing at all. In the past few months, mostly since I have begun to really take hold of my life and feel like myself again, I have started to be more and more open with people about my struggle. As a woman, I am frequently asked about my plans for future children. I am very open with people. I think that often it makes them slightly uncomfortable. We live in a world where talking about mental health is taboo. But it shouldn't be. More importantly, it can't be. People are struggling. Life seems overwhelming and hopeless because of this disease. When we refuse to speak about it we are only furthering the loneliness and helplessness that people are already feeling. We are telling them that we don't care or that they need to deal with it on their own. It isn't right. We are losing people we care about because we are uncomfortable. This starts with our doctors. Medical professionals need to talk openly and honestly with people about mental health. I remember taking Nathan to one of his well child appointments. The doctor looked him over, measured and listened. Then, he turned to me and asked very clearly and openly if I was doing alright. I was surprised. Nathan sees a family practice physician, so he is able to treat adults and children, but he isn't my primary care doctor. He must have sensed my confusion because he went on to explain that his job was to take care of my child. Part of taking care of Nathan meant making sure that I was doing okay too, because if I wasn't taking care of myself, if I wasn't thriving, there was no way Nate would thrive. It really struck me, and continues to stick with me. Like I said before, the only visit I was really required to go to was my six week postpartum visit and my depression hadn't set in yet at that point; but I was taking my baby to the doctor every few months for check ups. It made perfect sense that the doctor would make sure I was doing okay then too. I honestly wish that more doctors would do this. I know many people take their children to see pediatricians, so perhaps treating mothers isn't in their wheelhouse, but a few simple questions could really save a life. It would be so simple for a doctor to suggest that the mother get herself checked out too. In those early days of caring for a child the doctor's word is so important. We also need to be talking to each other. In coming clean about my struggle I have gotten so many responses of "I had not idea you were going through all of that!" and "I knew something was up but I didn't want to say anything." Please say something! I wish more people had. I probably would have broken down, sobbed uncontrollably, making you terribly uncomfortable. But I needed people to acknowledge that I wasn't going crazy. During that time I felt like I was slowly losing my mind and I was trying desperately to hold on. I felt like I was the only one who had ever felt that way. I wanted just one person to say "I know how you feel." It would have meant the world. No, it would not have taken the place of quality medical care, of medication, of exercise, of therapy. But it would have helped. Certainly some people did say something, but for everyone that did, there were others that visibly cringed when I tried to bring up my anxiety or depression. I'm moving forward in my journey. I hope that things never feel that dark again. I'm taking steps to make sure that they don't. Part of that involves talking openly and honestly about the realities of my own mental health. It means discussing and realizing my own limitations. It means having a plan. I currently see a psychiatrist every few months to manage my medication. I will continue seeing her until I am on a steady, therapeutic dose of my ADHD medication. I also see my primary care doctor every three months for medication checks. I exercise at least a few times a week (I would like it to be more but the reality of life with two children and a job that requires an hour of driving each way gets in the way). I keep open lines of communication with my family about where I am at with my mental health. I am also looking into establishing a Power of Attorney for mental health. Much like any other POA document, it would grant someone guardianship in the event that I would be rendered unable to care for myself. I hope that it wouldn't be something I need, but it might. When I look back on the past two years I realize that there are plenty of red flags, many times that I probably should have been put in a hospital but I was stubborn and refused help that was offered to me, or lied to make my problems seem less severe because I knew that being inpatient probably was the best thing but I was scared. For someone like me it is very important to make preparations while I am healthy because when I am in that deep dark place I know that I cannot think clearly. There is hope for the future, but the reality is that it is a long and arduous journey. I'm just glad to have made it this far.

[blueeyesandblueskies]

Open when you can’t sleep

Well hey there baby. I’m sorry you can’t fall asleep. I wonder why you’re so restless? Are you anxious about something? Are your thoughts just taking over? Are you just literally ok but not able to sleep? (That sucks) There are a couple things that always help me sleep. 

1. Reading -- either on your phone or an actual book. Actual books make me fall asleep quicker. 

2. Drugs -- NyQuil? Weed? Benedryll? The answer is yes.

3. Cumming -- Best way to sleep, amiright?

4. Movie -- YES. Movies make me fall asleep so quick. Actually put down your phone and watch a movie. 

5. Scenarios -- Close your eyes and make up a scenario. Preferably about me, but could be anything. I think about my future a lot when I do this. 

Everything feels so right with you. This distance between us is purely physical honey. I can’t explain to you how much I think about you and wish we were together. In two years, we’ll be able to go and do whatever we want. I’m excited for the fall because we can get football tickets and hang out with all of our friends. Fall is the best time of the year. Plus, my family has season tickets so you can meet them and spend time with them too. They’re gonna freaking love you. No doubt in my mind. Who in their right mind wouldn’t love you. I’m so lucky that I scooped you up first. Sucks to suck for everyone else! Fuck em. I’m so protective and jealous over you, but also so confident and trust you so much that it doesn’t actually bother me. I also am so thankful you don’t tell me what I can or can’t do or wear. I literally can dress and feel super sexy and you just claim me and show me off instead of getting mad. It’s hot. It makes the end of the night a lot better for you too cause I just want you to take me home and rip it off. Carter Grimm, I love you so much. You have my heart. My heart is in California. I’m okay with it for now. As long as we get back together at some point. Life with you is such an adventure. I’m excited when I wake in the morning. You make everything fun no matter how basic what we’re doing is. Laughing with you and holding you at night and kissing you until you pay attention to me... all of it. I don’t want to give it up and I don’t want to stop trying. Two years is worth a lifetime. I want you to do what’s best for you and selfishly enough, I hope that it includes me. I don’t want you to stay with me because I love you. I want you to stay with me because you love me. <= think about that. I can handle whatever you choose to do, but I want you to make sure you’re doing what makes YOU happy. I care about you as a friend more than anything. I love you Car. 

- Jen

[steelehomestead]

The last few days we have been preparing for the trip back to Florida to close up some loose ends. Dad and I have been working the whole week to prepare the house before leaving.  Luckily, My wonderful neighbors are checking on my place daily.

I decided to fly back on the red eye in Anchorage and Dad wanted to drive back with Gandie and Suzy.  Me and Taco flew Alaska Airlines.  Which by the way, is the best airlines I have ever flown.  If you are going to fly in strong winds, snow, ice, etc. they are your airlines.  I sprung a little extra for a premium seat which means I get more leg room and I get to board the plane sooner, right after first class and military.  Not only do I get those perks, but I get free alcohol to drink!  For someone who hasn’t flown on an airplane since 2005 and extremely nervous a vodka ginger or two made a real difference from starting off thinking we are all going to die a cold, snowy, fiery death to calm laughing and enjoying my airbus ride with a nice older gentlemen that kept my mind off of dying.  Inflight snack was a cute little box of organic goodies that consists of a fig cake, gummy bears, almonds.  Of course, I swallowed it down with a few vodka gingers.  I was feeling good about flying at this point.  This entire time Taco was sitting in my lap sleeping.  He was very nervous and wouldn’t drink water or eat a treat but stayed calm the whole way.

When we landed in Portland, Taco walked off the plane like a pro.  We walked to the dog restroom to see if he needed to go.  No go.  He smelled all the dogs that peed there and he just couldn’t do it.  I felt so bad for him.  So, we walked to our next gate and hung out the 50 minutes until we were able to board.  We boarded and took our seat.  Still having a bit of a buzz, I was ready for the next leg of the flight.  This time I was able to order food.  First I got my little box of organic snacks and a double vodka.  Then a bit later food was served and I ordered the cheese and fruit platter.  It was really good!  I ate every bit of it. Still, Taco wouldn’t eat even when offering him some apple and cheese.  Two things he would normally eat in a heartbeat.

Bathroom breaks on an airplane with Taco are interesting.  If you could picture it, I am holding Taco like a baby being burped and walking to the head.  So, then I have to put Taco down in this tiny coffin sized room just to go potty.  Then, flush (which scares Taco), wash hands, pick up Taco and walk back to our seat, get comfortable and seat belt.  All this time my phone isn’t updating due to the fact that I have no service.  I have no idea where we were and how much longer.  The men that I was sandwiched in the middle of didn’t want to be bothered so I felt that I was trapped by the unknown.  So I finished my drink and tried to take a nap.  Just about that time we started our decent into Orlando.  Thank God!

What I am guessing is about 45 minutes before we landed.  Then, touchdown!  I text my beat friend Tammy and she told me to text her when I get my luggage.  So, I hight tail it to the tram, get on, get off, and race down the escalator to the baggage claim.  About 5 minutes later luggage is starting coming out in the conveyor belt.  I see mine and run and get it.  Then I text Tammy and she is on her way from the cell lot.  Taco and I jump into the vehicle with the help of Tammy and we were off to Suwannee County!

Taco was still freaked out and took a well needed calm nap in the back seat and I was slowly fading.  My body was aching from all the stress of flying and sitting for so long.  It was so nice to get back to the hood.  Taco just was happy to be free from a leash and me.  He was able to run around and finally go to the bathroom.  It was like he had to pee forever.  When we finally went inside he was just a little shell of himself.  He wouldn’t eat anything and just wanting to sleep.  A little later we went to our friend Jan’s house to see the gang.  It was so great to see everyone!

We got back to the house and I laid in bed watching a show on my iPad and I was falling asleep dropping the iPad on my chest.  It was 9:30 pm Florida time.  I was sleeping good when I received a phone call that woke me up too abruptly.  I was disoriented and didn’t know where I was and what time it could be.  I had an older washing machine for free on Craigslist and it was a woman calling about it.  I’m still on Alaska time but hadn’t slept for 24 hours so I could’t speak or think.  I told here to text me her name and I would get back with her when I woke up on Florida time.  I was so disoriented that threw the covers and pillows off the bed trying to figure out where I was.  Now after the fact it’s pretty funny.

Yesterday, Tammy and I went to town to run some errands.  I needed to go to Walmart for some things, we ate blacked fish tacos at Beef o Brady’s then to the liquor store, and last Publix.  I forgot how inexpensive food is here I looked like a tourist in my old town.  As we marked things off our list it started raining and the temperature went from 77 to 53 by the time we got back to the house.  We got home around 5 pm and took it easy.  Tammy said I brought the weather with me when I left Alaska.  I wasn’t feeling like going to bed since I am still 4 hours behind on Alaska time.  Tammy wanted to stay up with me and so she did.  This morning she is suffering from lack of sleep.  Me on the other had a full nights sleep on my Alaska time schedule.  Went to bed at 2 am Florida/10 pm Alaska and woke up at 12 pm Florida/8 am Alaska.  Tonight I am taking two benedryls and call it a night by 10 pm Florida.  We have a lot to do tomorrow.  We have to go back into town for a few more errands and I need to go by the rental house and check on it.  We want to get it all done in the morning and then prepare for more guests for this weekend.

Tonight we had homemade soup that Tammy made it’s called Tammy’s Take on Pasta Fagioli with kale, zucchini and Italian sausage and lots of garlic bread.  Yummy!

Meanwhile, Dad is working his way down from Alaska on the ALCAN.  He was currently spotted he was spotted last in Watson Lake, Yukon about an hour ago.  He just might make it to British Columbia today.  If you see Dad driving Spike and a 28 foot white empty enclosed trailer,  give him a wave and say hi.  He is slow and steady and should be out of Canada in a few days.

Well, good night everyone.  I will try to do better about posting.

Somewhere on the way to Orlando

Taco before the airplane

Leaving on a Jet Plane The last few days we have been preparing for the trip back to Florida to close up some loose ends.

[martin-duran]

For years Amma suggested we visit Sydney and Perth for the Gourmet Escape event in Margaret River (which is actually a 3 hour drive from Perth). It seemed like an ambitious trip and frankly, the long flight scared the hell out of me. 

Between Oprah’s Australian Special years ago and a postcard from Sydney I found amongst my dad’s old keepsake box, the timing seemed right.

This trip came at a great time. It gave us something to look forward to during & after the big move/home renovation of our place in Silver Lake. 

I was also a bit concerned traveling with a group. Tere & I are typically a travel duo but Rocky, Annie, Cat, Dave & Amma helped create one of the most memorable adventures of our lives.  

The Flight: Three movies and a benedryl

It wasn’t all that bad. Maybe it was the anticipation of exploring a new city. 

The oddest adjustment was landing in Sydney and the time difference was NINETEEN hours ahead of Los Angeles Time. Talk about time traveling. 

First impressions:

Sydney is clean and people seem pleasant. 

Armed with our Opal cards, courtesy of Raul & Enrique, we made our way to Circular Quay (key)- the center of the city. 

Kudos to the city planner for building the airport so close to the center of Sydney.  Day 1:

Though it may seem touristy, the hop on/hop off bus is the most expedient way to get to know a city. 

The Sydney Harbour is the cutest. I say that because it sort of reminds us the San Francisco Bay & San Diego harbor but on a smaller scale. 

After looping the entire city we stroll around the Royal Botanical garden, it’s there we get the best view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge & The Sydney Opera House. Both are breath taking and I got goosebumps seeing them in person. 

On our first night we also arranged for a dinner meet up with Rand’s aunt Andee and her much younger boyfriend at a Lebanese restaurant in Surry Hills near her home. We had a blast listening to how she came to live in Sydney.

Turns out her life played out like a movie. (Left L.A cause FBI was looking for her due to a questionable AFI Film Program....she fled to China with 2nd husband who had a breakdown after taking some hallucinogens...he was fired from teaching at the University, she dropped him off in Amsterdam and she wound up staying in Sydney after meeting up with a friend. At least that’s what I remembered). 

Surprisingly we weren’t jet lagged after dinner & soaking in the city. In fact we embarked on our own Pub Crawl after the Hop On Off bus driver pointed out a few favorite watering holes. The Waterloo (bartender showed us the shanghai tunnel) The Brewery Hotel and the Palisades rooftop bar

Day 2:

The Koala Crew is here! 

Tapas Lunch near The Marriott Hotel 

Walk in the Park, drinks overlooking the harbour, first night at the Wydam...Thai Food to tackle the cold I caught.

Day 3:

The Crew spends the day at Bondi Beach while I rest up at the hotel before we embark on planned events. 

Day 4:

Taronga Zoo- In search of the Kwaka

Meet up with Andee her local bar. We head to a Tapas bar with Live Flamenco. The gang loses their mind when they see her library.

Amma- “You knew Octavia Butler?”

Andee- “ Yes.” 

She provides us space cake which we indulge in later in the trip. 

Day 5:

The Sydney Bridge Climb with Rocky, Cat & Dave.

Pete is the best tour guide. It took an hour to prep and gear up for the climb.

Pics of Kate Blanchett, Katy Perry, Will Smith, Oprah in the same gear we put on got us psyched up. During our climb we started singing Bill Wither’s “Lovely Day”. I hope it reminds me of that day for the rest of my life. I’ll never forget that view of the harbor. 

Spontaneous Ferry Trip to Manly Beach.

The search for Sushi, Are those bats in the tree? they’re loud as hell. 

Free Magic show at 4 Pines Brewery.

Dave is addicted to Chocolate and we discover this at the shoppe near the dock.

Day 6:

Alas we meet Sydney Opera House!

News Flash, the exterior is not one singular piece but rather tiled pieces. 

Drinks at the Benelong, “The Merchant of Venice” Play.

Rocky, Cat & I eat one of Andee’s space cakes. At a bar across the street from the hotel we realize we’re on the moon! Amma chats with me about meditation. Stillness seems like a good idea. We had back to the hotel but not before Tere takes me on a small goose chase for a bottle of wine. No luck! 

At one point we make our way back to the hotel and we start discussing violating at cantaloupe...it’ll be sold as the Honey Do Me! Laughter ensues for a good 10 minutes. 

For most of the week we notice Dave paying attention to driving in the city. He’ll be taking the wheel (they drive on the left side and steering wheel is on the right side) when we get to Perth. Three hours in the dark. Even I was afraid for him. 

Day 7:

Cross country flight to Perth. It’s almost like L.A. to N.Y.

Did you know 80% of Australians live on the East Coast Side/Pacific Ocean Side? Neither did I. It’s no wonder the West Coast side of the country seems far more chill. 

We land near sunset and embark on a 3 hour drive to Margaret River. En route Dave almost hits a kangaroo. 

Day 8:

The private beach bbq with Curtis Stone at Castle Rock.

Rock Star parking was a sign of good things to come.  

The location, the staff and the food were all superb.

Getting the private cabana was the way to go. Curtis chilled with us in our private lounge and chat with us for a bit. On lookers sat envious and we loved it!

Day 9:

Bike Ride with Tere

Sunday. nov 19th Margaret River. Met Martin’s friend at the cafe. Kenneth. Leeuwin winery. Jackie Browne. Location of the MR festival. WA = Western Australia Vas Felix wines well done.   Camel on the Manchugarup on the way to airport Robert. Gentleman we met at the Curtis Stone beach event. First event of the festival. Valle, friend in LA. Guru will be speaker in northern cal and southern cal. New port beach. Fri. February 23rd. Three day event. Friday to Sunday. Sunday do dinner in LA. 25th. Writes for conde’str. Timeout ISNA All about the Bao Hay Shed Hill. Wine. Jayme Gallaher and Chris. (FB name James) Saturday Cat and Dave have to leave Bar & Bear at Bunker Beach House Naturaliste 6:30 pm. Jayme is taking us to some spots Skipper sip is designated driver serving Cowarup for candy. Candy Cow. Diving gold cow. We tried crocodile, venicen, kangaroo, and emu. Chorizo and salamis. Venicen chorizo. Coat of arms salami has both kangaroo and emu. Brekey = breakfast. Hay Shed Hill. Margaret River. Lunch and wine. We saw Chef Luke there. Animal farm petting zoo Roos for Kangaroo Distillery the Grove Friday. Nov 17 Met cats friend. Jayme Gallaher Massage with Amma Anita Beisler. Inga’s daughter. Tina Margaret River Gourmet Escape Wine Chapel. Pray the wine never runs out. Why don’t they make bottles of wine bigger so two people could have a drink. Inspector Chile sol. Cat put Chile under nose Fermented Vietnamese fish sauce. Secret ingredient or favorite sauce for Luke. Luke Nguyen. Andy Allen and Ben Melbourne. Andy won Master chef. Red Lantern. eight now. Dysentery. Saigon cooking school. Sunset beats and bites. White Elephant Cafe Gnarabup, presented by Audi DJ Sarang.  Walked to a bar called The Commons. Pool table bar. Thursday. Nov 16 Haley mentioned. Wine Henchsky. Black barrosa region Vasse Felix. Drive down Margarett river. Ask for cab or Shiraz. Shiraz drink in winter near a fire. Southwest Coast line. Reserve for ride to Perth airport. Indian Ocean. Waterside Beach Bike ride. With Annie. Marty and Terri Australian Mexican maraca birds Jacuzzi. Amma’s dive. Black lizard. Snake lizard Audi Gourmet Beach BBQ Castle Rock Beach Dunsborough Dinner by Curtis Stone. Book signing Lamb, chicken tajien, veggie, brownie. Pork. Chickpea salad. Beef sausage. Laura. Reann Selena, Robert. Haley Wed Nov 15 Sydney to Perth. Perth to Donburough. Picked up the car. Almost hit a baby kangaroo Ramada Inn Dave’s bday Cat Cafe catmosphere Gay marriage equality AUS World Cup Royal Albert hotel Le Monde brunch Sent postcards. Tuesday Bridge walk. Song choice. lovely Day Bill Withers Monday Taronga zoo. Took ferry. Came back and took another ferry to Manly Beach The sushi place we wanted was closed for a private party so we found another one. Then walked to the warf again had a beer and magic at a Brewery. 4 Pines. Or something like that on Magic Monday. Took the ferry back and talked to a guy from Perth on the bow of the boat. Herbs. Warm cantaloupe. Honey doo me.  Watermen strap on. She drink Shiraz. Quaka Love. Sydney Bitches. The points guy. Check out his blog. Annie’s friends friend Sunday. Sydney Opera. The Merchant of Venice. The Rocks. Palisades. Sydney Cove Movie Ava. A wrinkle in time. Irsa gelyn. Book. I was just there. Good book name. Suggestion for her. Dinner with Andy Andre Reese 2005. Worst. Year. Her daughter Candice passed. Lou R. Old boyfriend. Boyfriend had second heart attack and passed at 43. Octavia Butler. Her good friend passed. Saturday. Free day. Bondi Beach. No marty. Icebergs. Saltwater Pool Friday Met Terri and Marti at their Hotel near the Rocks Walked to royal Botanical Gardens. Mrs. Macquaries Chair. Check in at Wyndham. Suggestions. Near Elizabeth Quay The Esplanade Climb the Harbor Bridge Umbilical brothers. Not in town Australia. 2017 Sydney and Perth. Going to Margaret River Fri to wed in Sydney Wed we fly to Perth. 3hrs to Margaret river Nov 9. Even. 10:35pm SFO to Sydney direct flight United arrives. Sat morning 863 flight United Perth. On 15th. Out of Perth 20th. To Sydney. Am.

[susalh-blog]

Sure, Let’s Talk Health (Pt. 1)

I know that my children don’t understand my health situation.  I know they expect me to feel all better - and wonder why I don’t. The concept of having a chronic disorder/disease is intellectually understandable to them, but I still get questions and comments revolving around “are you better yet?”.  So let’s see if I can color in this paint-by-number topic to the point of providing clarity of subject matter.

I don’t remember a time when I was healthy - actually that’s not true; I remember being a healthish young adult.... but that’s much later and not quite true. I was a healthy baby, it would seem.  I recall neither the reality nor family stories.  Aside from accidentally swallowing a tinker toy when I was about 3, I don’t recall a medical thing happening to me.  

That changed when we moved to St. Louis, when I was around 4.  When I was 5, I had a horrid case of the measles.  I lay in bed in a dark room, for days. My fever crossed 105 degrees, 4 days in a row, and my parents thought that was the end of me.  I was too sick to transport to the hospital, so my pediatrician made a house call, hooking me up to IV’s in my thighs.  (This, by the way, was the start of a terrible needle phobia. You don’t get IV’s, with people holding you down while you thrashed having fever dreams, and not have a resultant phobia.)  I did survive but with my budding permanent teeth “fried” - I would have brownish teeth for the rest of my life. Yes, that is a thing - look it up.

As I said, I did survive, but was far too weak to go to kindergarten, so I was babysat by a lady up the block, while my mother worked on the 1960 National Census.  A couple days into this arrangement, the lady met us at the door highly agitated.  “Don’t come in!  My kids have the mumps!  Get Susan away from here!”

Mama took me home and called the pediatrician who, alarmed, brought us immediately into the office to begin a course of an experimental mumps vaccine.  I can remember the terror of getting this shot after my measles experience!  I shrieked and had to be held down - not once, but 3 times over the course of as many weeks.  Talk about nightmares.

Since I now needed to be carefully watched (for side effects of the shots as well as my weak constitution), Mama bundled me into the back of our Ford Falcon and drove me around while she went house to house conducting her census surveys.  I had a nest in the back seat: Blankets, pillows, books, paper, scissors, crayons and tape.  I was given milk and snacks at almost every stop to build up my strength and weight.  

After that, I have memories of constant sickness, but which I figured was normal childhood.  Beginning around 3rd grade, I was sick (missing school) basically a week of every month.  I had fierce sinus infections and miserable tonsillitis.  I never had my tonsils out because my pediatrician (who had saved my life, so could do no harm in my parents’ eyes) was “nouvelle” and felt that tonsils had to stay in.  I remember the feeling of a tonsil episode starting: A quivering feeling in the back of my throat - as though my throat were dry. So I would swallow and swallow and within an hour or so, the quiver had turned into t localized stab of pain.  Fever would shoot up, and I was down for the count. 

I also remember sickening sinus headaches, which often started at school and left me leaning against the bus windows coming home, letting the cool glass sooth my pain somewhat.  I would sometimes have to sick down on the walk home from the bus stop because I felt so so sick.  At home I went up to bed, using a Vicks inhaler and VapoRub on my face as a remedy.  The Vicks burned mightily, but I stood it, believing that it was literally burning the pain out of me.  As its pain ebbed, I usually fell asleep, and often work with the headache gone, but feeling rather groggy and stunned.  It was a miracle when SinuTabs were invented.  They would keep the pain down to a dull roar, and I could continue through my day.  As an adult, I realized that I LIVED with sinus infections - heavy yellow snot, unable to breathe, low grade fever and all - and never thought anything of it (except the feeling of aggravation that ‘here comes another one’).  It was not until I was an adult, and got my own adult doctor in Charlottesville, that I learned this was an infection, which needed to be dealt with, and which, miraculously! could be tamed with antibiotics!  

What were my parents thinking?  I don’t know.  These two monsters of my childhood, tonsillitis and sinusitis, were ignored. I was told to get dressed and get to school unless I had a fever (which I did a lot of the time as my report cards attest!) and told to get more sleep.  When I was sick, I was put to bed and basically ignored.  I had my own personal bed table for when I was sick.  I read a lot of books and made villages of cardboard on my bed.  As an adolescent, I was allowed to watch TV.  My mama would bring me lunch, usually soup and jello, but left me alone the rest of the time.  I don’t know. Maybe they were more attentive than I remember, but I have no memory of that at all, which really makes me sad.  I’m actually crying while writing this, because I feel so bad for that lonely little sick kid.  

One distinct memory - and I am sorry at both the pathos and the pity this will engender.  I remember one time when I had a stomach flu.  I was expected to get up and go throw up in the connecting bathroom (no trash can for me!). But I had such a high fever, and I was so ill, that all I could manage was to roll to the side of the bed and throw up on the floor and then, basically, pass out, until I needed to vomit the next time.  I can remember calling for my parents, but no one came.  That was in St. Louis in our big house, so maybe they didn’t hear me.  But no one came and I threw up several times.  I don’t recall having that mess cleaned up or what happened next.  

I also remember having fever dreams, where everything swelled to enormous size and I had to find my way out of a world of “balloon creatures”.  I can remember the joy of breaking out in a deep sweat and knowing my fever was breaking.  I can remember the odd, glassy, glowy feeling of stepping back into the real world where everything seemed fresh and shiny!

When our family moved to Washington, D.C., and I was in 5th grade (age 11), I missed my last month of school in St. Louis because I was violently ill with what I thought was tonsillitis, but was something more sinister -scarlet fever, perhaps?  We had to move from our house while I was ill, and my father went on to D.C., while my mother and I stayed in a nearby hotel.  I remember that the linens in that hotel felt awful, and the sofa bed I slept in was uncomfortable.  I recovered enough to go visit school on the last day.  My mother drove me there, and my classmates surprised me with a going away party!  They had little gifts for me, and we had a cake.  They couldn’t come near me for fear that I would pick up another germ. I remember waving to them, 10 feet away or so.  I loved my teachers, Mrs. Wall, for doing that for me.

In Washington, my “worst case ever seen” of measles, was joined by a “worse case ever seen” of chicken pox.  I had them between my toes, in my eyes, everywhere!  My niece and nephew, roughly 4 and 5 years old, also had them.  It was the March after my mother had died, and Dad and Anne had to work, so I babysat all three of us as we lived through the pox, then each developed secondary infections.  I can remember painting pink calamine on ourselves for both fun and relief, and begging my father for a gun like toy and setting up a shooting range in my room for fun.  Weird.  Horrid and weird. Where were the adults?!?

I also got a case of German measles, which seemed like lightweight stuff after the other two.  I never got the mumps: That experimental vaccine worked, it seemed.

In the year after my mother died, I missed school rather a lot with stomach aches.  Frankly, I don’t think that was actually illness; I think that was psychosomatic illness due to depression.  Whatever, I was home and binged on TV, days at a time.  I don’t remember much else about that period.

As I got older, I managed my headaches better and the tonsils seemed to settle down.  In college, I got a horrible earache, which the clinic told me was nothing, but which burst once I got home for Christmas.  Our hometown doctor was furious that they hadn’t dealt with it more actively.  That’s why my right ear has diminished hearing.  

Through my young adult years, I was plagued with hard strong, irregular periods.  At 22, I was told that I might as well get a hysterectomy, since I would never have children.  A second opinion confirmed the first.  Thankfully, I ignored them both. When Peter and I got married, we went to an OB/GYN to get me checked out.  He told us that I looked fine “in there” and go ahead and try for kids - if nothing happened in a couple of years we could talk again.  Little did we all know that I was actually already pregnant.  With twins.  

My pregnancies were dreadful.  I couldn’t keep any food down with the twins, and lost 35 pounds in the first trimester.  I was down to roughly 100 lbs.  When I began throwing up water, I was hospitalized to get things under control.  There, I literally almost died, when I had a severe allergic reaction to compazine, given to me for nausea.  The nurse would not believe me that I couldn’t swallow and was having trouble breathing.  She said I was just over reacting because it was my first pregnancy, but I was having an anaphylactic reaction. Peter wandered in and saw me in dire straits and ran out to the nurses station where they told him to calm down.  He ran downstairs, across the street to the doctor’s office and got him to come in a rush.  Dr. Vogel showed up at a dead run, called for Benedryl, which he administered, then sat with me while I recovered until I slept. He held my hand and kept apologizing.  Apparently he then went straight out and got the nurse fired.  We almost lost me and my beautiful boys that day.

It was also the first in a long, long sequence of allergic reactions to drugs.  Thankfully, we had a friend who was a pharmacologist who helped us negotiate this crooked path.   He gave us a list of warnings, starting with the compazine, which he says I should never have been given since I was allergic to aspiriin.

I regained the weight I had lost, handled a difficult pregnancy (which included PUP - or an allergic reaction to the babies’ placenta), and gave birth to gorgeous Paul and Daniel.  Four years later I gave birth (after a pregnancy that was slightly less hard) to beautiful Mary.  If you look at photos of this era, I was a stick - in fact, a friend said that pregnant, I looked like a cocktail olive on a toothpick.  

Once these years passed, I was slammed with weight gain.  I’ve never really figured this out.  I went from a super skinny mother, who took and taught aerobics, hiked up hills, carried around my kids in backpacks, and cared for a large house, to an overweight Woman of Pain. In graduate school, I ran with a group on Columbia’s indoor track, managing several miles at a time while we talked about our readings.  

But suddenly I could barely get through a day with out several doses of Tylenol for the pain.  I gained an enormous amount of weight, while eating ‘normally’.  By the time we moved to Portland, I was a fat, painful mess, and wondered what on earth had gone wrong.

This takes energy - more later.