MFA Mama

slump

   I have missed a LOT of work over this latest oral surgery drama of Hotter's. This whole "easily could have gone septic and died" thing hit me like a ton of bricks and I just want to make sure he's breathing, OKAY PEOPLE? Also I have some kind of lung lurgy and my entire back is seized up and OH MY GOD MONEY and...I dunno. I feel like I could sleep for a week. At least.

   How do YOU break out of a slump?

today was a good day

  I am not going to go into specifics as of yet (or, who am I kidding, probably EVER), but today I got some EXCELLENT news on the career front, as in BENEFITS FOR ERRYBODY AND A MODICUM OF JOB SECURITY kind of news, and lo, there was GREAT REJOICING throughout Casa MFA.

crowdsourcing, because I really don't even know what to do with this

   So. I didn"t go to work, which should tell you everything you need to know about how my back is. I got up when the alarm went off, and shuffled to the bathroom, holding onto the hallway wall all the way, and then in transferring into the bathroom, proper, almost fell flat because my right leg twitched out and then buckled at the knee. I caught myself on the vanity (my arms are okay--it hurts to move them, but only because that pulls on my trunk; whatever this is is down at L5, which I know because that is where I broke my back and it is ALWAYS L5), and took a moment to get my shit together and think. Seeing as it's my right leg that's the most wonky (and given that I have nerve damage in my left leg from the break twenty-one years ago that alone is pretty alarming), that was one strike against going to work anyway. Because that's my pedal-pushing leg, obviously, and while the MFA Minivan has cruise control, braking in a timely manner is essential to safe driving. The whole "not able to walk/balance worth a shit without holding onto things" scenario was strike two, obviously. I mean, I do possess a Rollator, but all concerns of personal dignity aside (I pretty much got over those when I had to use the thing to get around for months and months a few years ago), the idea of lifting it in and out of the MFA Minivan seemed tremendously optimistic at best (and downright idiotic at worst) (in the Rollator's defense it is VERY lightweight, but it weighs more than string cheese. So). Strike three was the fact that I had an hour-long anxiety attack* in the wee hours of the morning after sternly telling myself I NEEDED to sleep to go to work and that it was mind over motherfucking matter, and I looked and felt like someone operating on three hours' nightmare-riddled sleep following an hour's helpless tears.

   I so totally can't even afford this, y'all.

   But since my body doesn't seem to give a shit about what I can and cannot afford or tolerate, I have to decide what to do about this, and since I cannot, even with unpacking and examining my reasons for liking or disliking any one option, discern what the best way to handle this would be, I'm crowdsourcing it and giving y'all a chance to weigh in.

Option One: Do nothing, by which I mean continue to take NSAIDs and Tylenol-laced narcotics, ice my lower back, and move as little as possible up until VERY CAREFULLY stretching, applying heat, and gradually ramping my level of activity back up is feasible. This is what I've been doing so far. Pros include not costing anything, not having to leave the house, and the fact that historically this always turns out to have been the wisest course of action in cases like this. Cons include possibly running out of leftover dentist pills before the pain is less terrifying, the possibility of overlooking something like a disc issue, and the fact that seeking some medical attention MIGHT have me back in fighting (or at least white-collar working) form sooner than this.

Option Two: Drag my sorry ass to Urgent Care (my GP, in addition to being on my shit list, doesn't have an x-ray suite in her office). Pros include ruling disc issues in or out via x-ray and neuro exam, documentation to show my boss (who doesn't care about such things and kind of rolls his eyes when I present him with doctor's notes after absences, but I like to demonstrate accountability), and possibly obtaining better pain relief in the form of steroids and/or more narcotics. Cons include costing money,having to leave the house, and  the fact that realistically and based on precedent this won't actually make me feel any better any sooner than waiting it out.

   What say ye? At this point I could argue either side, and Hotter is the KING of "whatever you want to do about it, baby," so I'm interested to see what other people think.

 

*   Which...what the fuck? All self-deprecating hyperbole aside, I haven't had a genuine anxiety attack like that in YEARS, like, probably at least three of them. And yet there I was having a conversation with myself in the wee hours that went something like "There is absolutely no reason to hurt yourself rolling over to make sure nobody is standing at the end of the bed, because the dogs would've gone nuts if someone had broken in and ZOMBIES ARE NOT REAL YOU ARE JUST BEING STUPID ABOUT THE ZOMBIES, THIS IS NOT AT ALL LIKE YOU WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, ANYWAY I MEAN ZOMBIES, SERIOUSLY???" And then I finally went to sleep and had nightmares about my maternal progenitor until the alarm went off.

...and today forgot it entirely :(

   This morning I woke up before my (extra-early) alarm, and got to the office before dawn, and was kicking ass and taking names RIGHT UP UNTIL LUNCHTIME when I got The Call from the elementary school clinic: "Middly is complaining of a stomachache and headache, and has a temperature. Isn't this what happened when he ended up in the hospital?"

   Eff. Word.

   A quick call to the Lord of The Douche (a.k.a. the XY) was fruitless, and the across-the-street neighbors who have given Hotter an emergency ride to the elementary school with replacement pants in the past weren't home, so I packed up my work computer and hit the road, employing every four-letter word I know on the way (it's a twenty-five minute drive).

   While I am very relieved to report that this is NOTHING like what happened when he ended up in the hospital, the kid IS sick. He complained of nausea when we got home, so I dosed him up on Tylenol and Zofran, and he was able to keep some ramen down and is hydrated. So that's good.

   What's NOT good is that I had to cancel two meetings, and was already down four hours from Monday (when I worked a half-day from home while caring for Hotter after his oral surgery), and tomorrow is Friday so I don't have time to make up the hours before the end of the week. BALLS!

   So yeah, I'll be going in early again tomorrow, and Hotter is under strict orders to keep anyone who looks the least bit peaked home tomorrow, because GAHHH.

   How are all of YOU?

today BROUGHT IT!

*   I may have a freelance gig doing something I am only marginally qualified to do for someone terrifyingly rich and important at PseudoCorp. When they asked me to meet with them I thought it was regarding PseudoCorp business, but instead they want my help with a personal project that is kind of neat but OH MY GOD DID I MENTION HOW BIG AND IMPORTANT AND RICH AND TERRIFYING THEY ARE? YES? WELL THIS IS ME DOING IT AGAIN BECAUSE GAHHHHH!

*   Okay. Deep breaths. I'm actually more qualified than I thought to do this, in fact it may be something I could start doing as a consultant on the regular if I can get over the overwhelming urge to puke on The Client's shoes and run screaming and waving my hands in the air, heedless to the enormity of my pit-stains (what, you don't sweat profusely when you're nervous? LUCKY YOU). I just...well. I have kind of a complex when it comes to rich people stemming back to my childhood when the only rich people I knew were banging The Narcissist and lavishing her with gifts, which I think my dad kind of accepted as his penance for transgressions of his own in prior marriages, but the whole thing kind of cheesed me off because it tended to throw fuel on the fires of her "I was meant for better than this" complex, with "this" meaning "me." WHOA. AWKWARD. I don't talk about The Narcissist on here (or anywhere else) much for a reason. ANYWAY. Rich people. TERRIFYING. Shit.

*   I have a strict "no turning down work" policy, however. I will put on my big girl panties and Do Lunch with the rich people next week and see where it leads. If I do a good job this might be a foot in the doorway to Better Things. So: YAY!

*   Then I came home and TORE UP the garden, and didn't even find and have to kill any venomous snakes in the process, so, you know, that was good.

*   And then...well. The boys had dinner visitation with their father tonight and I won't stoop ALL the way to juvenile lockerroom bragging, but...a bar has been raised in this house, and that's all I will say.

*   Hotter is feeling much better, obviously. 

*   I am starting to feel less panicky about Big Child's pending birthday. I Have A Plan. He has an Innernet Fairy Godmother who stepped in and is helping me out with the whole Red Robin thing (which is fabulous, because he will be thrilled but also because with his Asperger's if you do something ONCE you have set a PRECEDENT and if you don't do it again the next time the world will fly off its axis and crash into the sun and we will all DIIIIIIIIE...okay, not really. It's not QUITE that bad. But no matter how carefully I tried to explain it he would most likely internalize it as "Red Robin is where one goes for birthdays and we are not going this year because I HAVE DONE SOMETHING TERRIBLY WRONG" and start washing his hands raw again and making us repeat everything we say until we hit the magic number of repetitions, so: yeah), and the only thing Big Child has mentioned really wanting lately (my kids don't ask for much...they know we're poor and don't ask unless they're really, REALLY jonesing for something special) is a Hunger Games t-shirt that one of his friends has that he is convinced is ONLY sold at the very mall where the local Red Robin is located. So if I tell Big Child we have to wait until a non-schoolnight then I will have gotten paid and will be able to get him the t-shirt while we're there for dinner next Friday night. It'll kill me a little bit to buy it in person without a coupon or any cash back from eBates, but it'll make him happy so I will deal :)

*   And now I am off to bed...how are all of YOU?

poverty shaming, the 261-calorie lunch, and Hotter has oral surgery

I.   So I think maybe I'm still a little raw from the incident with the Old Biddy Neighbor. Today I am off work, because I had to go to traffic court over one of the expired registration tickets I got when I couldn't afford to update the MFA Minivan's registration and got ticketed (the case was dismissed when I showed the judge my registration and I was out the door in ten minutes), and also Hotter had oral surgery (which I scheduled for a day I knew I'd have to miss work anyway, because I am efficient like that) and I had to drive him to and from that and take care of him afterward. I was also thinking that maybe if Hotter was feeling up to it, we could use a movie ticket voucher I've had kicking around for a while and go to see The Hunger Games. Here is an update I wrote on the Facespace earlier today:

Figure One: Yeah, I didn't match the shade on the name-text very well, but use your imaginations.

   Here is the comment addendum I added to the first status (I had already covered this on the Twitter, then forgot I hadn't told the facespace about the ticket voucher and panicked a little), and what a couple of friends had to say about it:

Figure Two: This time I didn't even try. Y'all can tell which one I am, right?

   And now it is kind of bothering me because I wonder if I'm not being a jerk here. My friends are easier on me than I am about pretty much everything, I think out of affection, but...am I being a jerk? Goodness knows I am against poverty-shaming. Poor folks have enough to worry about without judgment from others, and I hate to read about this kind of thing, because I've been judged in the grocery line before and it doesn't feel good (like okay, with Food Stamps? They give you WAY MORE to spend on food each month than I do when I am buying our groceries out of pocket, and when my family received Food Stamps I often used to buy fresh organic berries with them because fresh berries used to be one of the only things Little Child would eat by mouth and with the way he used to be allergic to so many things I wanted to make sure he didn't react to some pesticide or herbicide on the berries and cause us to think he couldn't have the berries themSELVES...more than once I had a cashier look at me like "SERIOUSLY?" and it's not like the g-tube showed when Little Child had clothes on)...but then I see some folks talking about how poor they are but going out to eat frequently, going on vacations where they spend a lot on travel costs and hotel rooms, seeing movies several times per month, and it irks me. Because while I don't doubt that those people FEEL like they're poor, in my reality if I did those things we'd have to go without something really important, like my health insurance coverage (the MFA Children are on the XY's policy), or car insurance (which we did go without for a while, and which I got roasted for openly in the comments one time and remedied as soon as I was able to), or, you know, FOOD or MEDICINE or something. It's been over a year since I saw a movie in the theater. The last time I went on vacation was BlogHer '10 and we've NEVER been on a family vacation. We don't eat out, PERIOD (I think the last time we ate out as a family was Big Child's birthday last year, and when we did that it was because a generous friend had given us a gift card to Red Robin...and Big Child's birthday is coming up AGAIN in a week and a half,* so...yeah. It's been a while. The last time before THAT was over a year previous, too.). Maybe our definition of "poor" and other people's definition of "poor" differ? Or maybe I should feel badly for the folks who are crying poor and still doing all of those things, because maybe it indicates an inability to be realistic about their situation and make smart choices? I don't know. I might be wired a little different in that I've NEVER really had the money to do those kinds of things, and therefore don't miss them--maybe some folks really DO feel like life isn't worth living without seeing movies, eating out, and going on trips (although personally I think if I was feeling that way I'd be more tempted to break the bank on a co-payment to talk to my psychiatrist about it, if anything)? Something about this whole thing isn't sitting right with me, and I can't quite put my finger on it. Ideas?

II. I mentioned on the Twitter that I'd made myself a 261-calorie lunch and it was delicious and filled my belly, and someone asked me to blog about it, so here goes. You will need:

a pat of butter
a splash of milk
five eggs
1 ounce Trader Joe's light feta cheese (most "light" cheese isn't worth eating, but this stuff is a delightful exception--I actually prefer it to the regular variety taste-wise!) 
2 cups baby spinach
a slice of onion
Texas Pete
salt and pepper to taste 

   Dice the onion up and saute it in the butter. Break the eggs into a bowl, separating out all but one of the yolks (discard the four other yolks, or feed them to your pets, or whatever), then add the splash of milk, a few sprinkles of Texas Pete (which adds an excellent flavor and also colors the egg so that it doesn't have that unappetizing white-y look you get when using just or mostly eggwhites), and your spices. Whisk it together. When the onions have clarified, add the spinach, and when the spinach has wilted, add the egg mixture to the pan. Cook until the eggs are the way you like them (I like mine hard-cooked, because runny eggs squick me out). Dish that up, crumble the feta on top, and enjoy. According to Myfitnesspal this has 261 calories.

III. Hotter had oral surgery today. Our dentist did it in his office, but it was kind of gory (Hotter had a tooth that was broken off below the gumline except for one lone splinter that stuck up a little...I couldn't even look at it without gagging and don't know how he stood it, although he said it didn't really bother him). While we were there I went ahead and scheduled the next round of work for the end of May (when my NEXT traffic court date for the expired registration is) (that's the last one though!)...it will be $360. I don't know how I am going to pay for that, but I said that about this month's work and last month's, and I guess I'll think of something. I will be SO GLAD when every month doesn't include a bunch of dental work for Hotter, y'all, you don't even KNOW. In the post-op instructions they said Hotter wasn't allowed to suck on anything because it could cause dry sockets. I turned to him and said "WELL THAT IS JUST GREAT, HOW ARE YOU GOING TO RAISE THE MONEY TO PAY ME BACK NOW?" because I am awesome like that. Also, here are some things I tweeted while I was waiting that people seemed to find amusing:

Figure Three: He doesn't actually have a third nipple. But then I DO NOT ACTUALLY FART IN MY SLEEP, so we're even!

*   And I don't EVEN want to think about it, because a) I haven't gotten him anything and b) he has mentioned several times that he wants to go to Red Robin again this year because he enjoyed it so much last year, but um, NOT GONNA HAPPEN. Crap. 

daily reminder: don't be a jerk

   I am LIVID, so please excuse any typos.

   My old biddy neighbor (yes, the same one who called our landlord and complained about the length of our lawn a couple of summers ago while Hotter was in Club Med fighting for his life) just called me over to the fence between our yards to give me a ration of shit because she wants us to buy a trashcan that matches hers.

   I'll give you a moment to let that sink in.

   Now, I realize that letting a garbage bag sit in the side-yard now and again until I can take it to the nearest unguarded dumpster is not ideal, and that you can pay companies to come and take your garbage away on a weekly basis, but here is the thing: we're poor. We're not the only ones, either. A lot of folks are struggling right now and currently something like half the children in America (my own included) have received Food Stamps at some point in their lives (we do not currently qualify because I "make too much money," although "too much money" evaporates with a quickness when you're buying transplant meds and trying to get dental work done on your transplant-recipient spouse to keep him from developing a life-threatening infection before Something Happens to your job). Nobody talks about it, because it's Not Nice, but you know what? Maybe more of us should.

   So I stood up straight, looked her in the eye, and said "Mrs. Neighbor, we are out of bread, milk, and butter, we have $0.21 in the bank right now, and I don't get paid until Tuesday. Therefore I. Am. Not. Worrying. About. A. Trashcan."

   Go easy on your fellow humans, y'all. If their lawn is unsightly, maybe they have a loved one in the hospital and can't afford gas for the mower. And maybe if they're not worrying about their trashcan matching yours, it's because they're about to go and make some biscuits with coconut oil despite the one child hating the flavor and try to make their kids think that Everything Is Just Fine. Sure, maybe it's just that they're a lazy slob, but give them the benefit of the doubt, okay?

social media-y goodness, and some stuff you should do/join/try [ETA]

Figure One: It has no soul.

 

   If you like garden porn and don't already follow me on the Instagram, you are missing out.

   If you like free stuff and have yet to join Swagbucks and started searching with it, you're REALLY missing out (and so am I, because I'd get a referral credit, but mostly you--I just cashed in some Swagbucks for an Amazon.com gift card YESTERDAY).

   If you aren't a member of eBates yet, you should totally join AND USE IT, because look:

Figure Two: This is why you want to join eBates! Also because you love me and want me to get credit for referring you.

   And if you join BOTH then sometimes you will search for eBates' site with Swagbucks, win eleven SBs for the search, and then find out that your favorite store is today's daily double and you will be motherfucking THRILLED.

   Now if you'll excuse me, I am way behind on my sleep, and work is nuts, and WHY WAS TODAY NOT FRIDAY? I CALL SHENANIGANS.

   How are all of YOU?

 

ETA: See comments section for an answer to WTF IS THAT THING UP TOP???

oral surgeon, etc.

*   I have lived in MFA Town for nearly thirty-three years of my thirty-three and change and managed to make it until yesterday without ever knowing there was a cookie-cutter office complex off Main Rural Drag with at least eleventy-five hundred oral surgeons', dentists', and maxillofacial surgeons' offices. AT LEAST. And they all had the same tooth-with-roots cutout on the side of their building, and the same three signs reading "ORAL SURGEON," "DENTIST," and "MAXILLOFACIAL SURGEON." And the same color and font used to paint their names on their office doors (the only variation in these offices was the names--I didn't even see any damn address numbers). After I found the office I was meant to go to I got out of the MFA Minivan and kissed the ground on my hands and knees, giving thanks for small favors like only seeing THIS place once in my life to date. Although I am sure it will be appearing in my anxiety dreams FROM NOW ON.

*   The oral surgeon seemed very smart and was quite engaging, which...well. I instantly wonder about him, because men who are people-persons usually lead me to make stupid decisions. Be that as it may, since he did have an advanced degree and years of surgical experience, plus the personal recommendation of Dr. JewishName, I heard him out on his interpretation of my Jank Jaw.

*   Jank jaw is jank, y'all.

*   Dr. PlasticFantastic thinks the next (and also, in my case, the LAST, on which more in a moment) step would be arthrocentesis of the temporomandibular joint.

*   Arthrocentesis (go ahead, Google Image that shit, I'll wait) may or may not work. My insurance company may or may not agree to cover it. It may or may not be a good idea for various reasons inherent to both general risks and specific physical oddities of mine. If it doesn't work, though, I either have to figure out how to live with the symptoms (which currently I do) or pursue pain management as an ongoing part of my permanent medical "team." Which? Barf. But my connective tissue disease (which I had stupidly neglected to put on my intake paperwork because seriously what would that have to do with my clenching and grinding my jaw? OH EVERYTHING APPARENTLY IN THAT AN ENTRAPPED PIECE OF DETACHED CARTILAGE IS BEHIND THIS BULLSHIT) makes any kind of open joint surgery (YES HE MENTIONED THAT) dumb(er even than for the general population--joints are like engine cases, people, you open them and it voids the warranty no matter how skillful you are about it). Bottom line is, my body is going to do what it's going to do, and any attempts to stop it will be temporary at best and crippling at worst. 

*   So I have to decide whether I want to pursue arthrocentesis (in theory--in reality I don't know for certain how I will feed everyone for the next six days and surgery? OH HAHA, YOU SILLY GOOSE!), which may relieve current symptoms, most likely on a temporary basis, or just shrug and choose to live with this evenifIcouldaffordtofixit.

*   Hotter's computer is totally dead. Like, giant lovingly hand-built paperweight attached to desk-sized monitor dead. He is very sad about that. And bitter. By which I mean prone to sniping at loved ones. But he's so upset I don't even really want to call him on much, so I'm gardening tons. "That's fine for you," he groused at me yesterday, "but what about MY rage and anxiety?" Implication being that I should come the fuck inside and keep him company. "I can't address YOUR rage and anxiety," I said, "I can barely handle my own." And I kept on digging, so. Yeah.

*   My health, aside from the various ongoing TMJ/ENT/Asthma clusterfucks and despite my major "diet/lifestyle/headspace adjustment," is not what I would like for it to be. I am retaining a TON of water right now (by which I mean more than ten pounds' worth that appeared literally overnight), which is uncomfortable, unsightly, and unsettling. I am starting to fear that my autoimmune bullshit is waking and stretching preparatory to looking for a nice snack. I don't want to talk about my health. If you asked me to describe it in one word I'd hiss at you like a cat.

*   So things are...not good here. At all. How are YOU?

home

   Just a placeholder. The nutshell version is that I am past any need for immediate ENT surgery and not in any current danger, but (etc. etc. inflammatory etc.) and I need to see a different KIND of surgeon for this. Plus pain pills. More tomorrow. The end.