Abandoned Blog? I Don’t Think So!

I have not fallen off the planet, I just needed to take some much-needed time for quiet introspection. I was having a really hard time and I tried to get back into blogging and YouTube but it just wasn’t happening for me.

Those of you who know me in real life know that at the end of June I actually got a job! I was thrilled. I was on cloud nine. It looked like my life was taking the turn I needed. And then about two weeks later I was fired. I was devastated. 

I don’t know why I was fired and they didn’t have to tell me because it was during my probation period but, they said it wasn’t my performance. I did very well. I have some ideas of why but nothing that I can prove. I would love to know why because if it’s something I can fix, then maybe it will help me keep a job.

A real quick thank you to The Collector’s Addition for sponsoring this post! I love their Dr Seuss Ornaments. There are so many different creative collections on there to browse. Thank you for the support!

I really appreciate that this sponsor allows me to write how I feel and doesn’t tell me what to write. The only request was that I keep it family friendly (which means no cussing). I can do that! I can edit!

Back to the blog post…

Not knowing why, I felt like I didn’t have a good direction to go. From a comment made during my firing, I know it’s something in my background. I spent time researching my background and ordered a full background check. Nothing. I am a good girl. All I can tell you from that background check is that I move a lot, have kids and a husband, own land in Tennessee, and no one can spell my name correctly. 

But for bettering myself? Yea, I have no idea. That is why I decided to check out from social media (except for family) and really take a good hard look at my life. Like, I really met it face to face. I finally believe the doctors (from years ago) who told me I would never work outside my home again.  I believe them now. I didn’t want to believe them before but I fully do now. 

I am never going to be able to hold a job outside of my house so I need to focus on what I do best. As much as that hurts to say, I accept that. I don’t have to like it to accept it. So I am accepting it.

And now I will focus on what I am best at… Writing. Because I am not letting this depression get the best of me! I set goals for this month to keep me focused.

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I am back!

Goals for this month

My goals for this month are easy so I can get back into my groove.

  1. Each week I will make six posts.
  2. Each post will start with a letter of the alphabet. Nov 1 is A. Nov 2 is B. Nov 3 is C. And so on.
  3. All posts will be about positive things or will be about something that I am grateful for. 

I am hoping to get on YouTube video in each week but we’ll see how that goes for now. I am definitely working on this. 

I want to make it to where this is my full-time “job” so that I make it my habit.

I am looking forward to this. Since I won’t be getting a job… ever… I am back to blogging full-time! WOOHOO!

Cabinet Peaks Medical Center – My how You Have Improved!

I didn’t post this week because of this. I thought I would share why.

Back Story – Before the ER Trip

I was having a blast with friends when I cross contaminated the pan I was using but didn’t realize it.

I figured it out a lot later. The oil brush I was using to coat the pan was the same one I used to coat the pan when I made pork for the boys. I made two batches of pork. I brushed the pan with oil between batches. The brush ended up with pork juices on it… and then I forgot to put it in the contamination sink OOPS!

So I am cooking, talking, and having a grand old time. My first tortilla gets done, the egg gets done (so that’s two things I have cooked in pork oil on both sides). I take a bite and swallow. I went to say something and as soon as I opened my mouth, I couldn’t breathe. At first I thought, “Must be something in my throat…” (why is that always my first thought???) and went for the sink to spit out everything in my mouth when I realized, DUH, I swallowed my food. I could feel that “marble stuck in my throat” feeling and I knew my throat was swelling… and it itched SO BAD!

AND Epi-pen to the leg!

At this point, my friend comes over and is cracking jokes about the Heimlich maneuver. When she sees me turning purple and asks in a serious tone, “Are you okay?” I managed to squeak out, “Epi”, and she went to get it. Of course, this is the one time I didn’t have my Epi-Pen on me in the kitchen.

I got the pen and stabbed myself in the leg and screw counting to ten. I just held it there until I could gasp for air in large quantities. Once I could breathe again, I did a quick count to ten then massaged the spot on my leg where I injected. My friend went to get my son and he helped me by getting the Benadryl. That’s when I noticed I was out of ranitidine (I found the back up bottle this morning. I have just enough to last until shopping day). I thought, “Meh. It’ll be fine.” and just took the Benadryl.

After 15 minutes (ish), I was still breathing okay. But, my throat still itched pretty bad (just not as bad as earlier). I was having waves of nausea so bad I was sure I was going to throw up any second.

Disclaimer: If you have to use your Epi-pen, call 911 and go to the hospital immediately. I have dealt with allergies since I was 9 years old. I know my body quite well. If I was responsible, I would go to the ER right away. But I deal with them often enough that I am not going to the ER every single time (even though I know I should). 

“But Dotchi, how is this different from your regular nausea?”

With my regular nausea, it’s the nausea where you think, “Man. I feel sick to my stomach and if I could only puke, I would feel better.” It’s rather mild. This nausea felt stronger and I was getting the “bubble under the tongue” I get seconds before I puke. Then it would dissipate and I would feel okay, only to have it happen a minute or later.

So I decided to call 911 at with my son’s encouragement (read as: “Seriously mom! Just go to the hospital!”). I hate going to the hospital because of the fear that it’s going to be that one doctor. I have an extreme fear that the man is going to kill me one of these days. Let me rephrase that: I HAD an extreme fear…

The ambulance showed up and I felt better seeing faces of people that have taken care of me before. I have to say, when I see a nurse that is at the clinic I go to, it made me feel so much better (not physically – just mentally). I got my little puke bag JUST in case, and we headed to the ER.

At Cabinet Peaks Medical Center ER

When we arrived my throat was still itching, just not as bad, and I was still having waves of nausea. I already knew everyone there by name because of my other trips to the ER and they were all nurses I like. YEAH! I was just hoping it wasn’t that one doctor who I fear the most.

The doctor was THAT doctor. So I was expecting hell and a complaint form afterwards. Instead I got …. a top-notch experience. 

Wait. What?

Yes! A good experience! He listened. He didn’t ignore what I was saying. He acknowledged my allergic reaction. He treated my reaction like I was expecting. He even came back in the room to make sure one of the medications was one I could have. It has dextrose in it (the non-dissolvable one does not but at the ER they have the dissolving tabs). Sometimes I have to pick my battles. I will take some pain and swelling over extreme nausea any day! 

For those of you asking why I didn’t just smoke some medical marijuana for my nausea. I don’t take marijuana and Benadryl together. I don’t feel it is safe.

The whole experience went well. I got checked in by the nurse/ EMT. My youngest son met everyone during this process. I got hooked up to the EKG. My vitals were still good when checked. I saw the doctor. I got meds. I played 20 questions with my son. I felt better. I got released. There were NO ISSUES

I… I am having conflicting emotions here. I am not sure what to think. I am so happy the doctor did a good job. I am cautiously optimistic that this is a good sign. I am going to check my records in a few days though. But… I am confused about this whole thing. He did good. He was polite. I am not sure how to react. I’ve spent the week thinking about it. I am just flabbergasted. 

Anyway, back to the post…

“How are you now?”

The next day, the abdominal cramps hit and I was poofy like I expected. I stayed on Benadryl, Ranitidine, and Ibuprofen for the day. My liquefied insides fell out by the end of day two also. I felt like a truck ran my over. I felt HORRIBLE but, at the same time, better also. (That’s hard to explain) And my leg was tender where I injected my Epi-pen. 

It’s been a few days since then. It happened on the 7th, I think… I lost track of days. Anywhoodles, over the next few days I recovered with no problems. I am now doing fine although I am a little rash here and there. Not sure what that is from. I think the two are unrelated? I can never tell with rashes.

But I had to share the good experience I had at Cabinet Peaks Medical Center’s Emergency Room. Plus, share the experience with the doctor because I am pleased with the experience.

Physical Therapy, An EEG, and Fibromyalgia

This is a really busy week for me.

I had physical therapy yesterday. It hurt like crazy. I did the standing bicycle peddle for your hands. It hurt so bad. My Physical Therapist kept asking how I was doing. I told her each time that it was really hurting. I found myself doing the staring mantra. I stare at one spot and chant in my head to focus on anything but the pain.

The mantra… I note everything I can about whatever I am staring at. I was looking at buttons on the machine today. Round, cracked, taped over, must have a rough texture. All are red buttons. One controls the heart rate monitor… I had to ask about that. How does that work, I asked as I slowly peddled my joints into a horrible pain. My PT explained that they have a special one that hooks up to it. Anything to keep my mind off the sharp shooting pain and the tears that I am fighting back because it hurts. It really hurts! But how do you explain that to someone who probably has never had this pain? And I hum, in my head, a tune that keeps me calm… er. 

But oh the pain! Every time she asked how I was doing I mentioned how bad it hurt and she stayed positive with, “Only one more minute…” OH THANK GAWD! “…and then I’ll have you start peddling backwards.” DAMN!. Mkay. And I kept going. Why? Because I don’t want to be a whiner, or a slacker. I don’t want to be the girl that gives up.

Next it was massage time. In other words, Pain time was over and now it was time for torture. I laid on my stomach as she poked up and down my spine. Now, I am not one to scream in pain, or bawl noisily when it hurts. I try to cry quietly. And I was. This was so painful, like she was poking a red-hot iron into my spine. One side, then the other. Oh the pain! I can’t even describe it.   Then she massaged, which wasn’t as horrible but I know I will feel it for days. She hit my trigger points on my neck and BAM… HEADACHE! And it hasn’t gone away.

Once done she asked how I felt. She wanted to know if I felt more relaxed. No, actually I don’t. I was fighting back the rest of my tears while wiping my face. she looked mortified that she made me cry. “Why didn’t you say it was hurting?”

You want to know why? I’ll tell you why! Because it doesn’t matter one effing bit what the hell I say. I say “It hurts really bad” and I am told to push through the pain, just one for minute. It’s needed to help with my joints (which weren’t the problem… My SPINE is the issue!). Last time I took physical therapy, I said it hurt and I was told I wasn’t trying enough. So I am not going to back out because it hurts. I already said it hurts. It doesn’t go away because I stopped peddling. 

And we chatted about keeping your joints loose, I mentioned that I did laundry. She commented about how that’s an easy chore (or something to that effect… affect?). Maybe for you it is. But not to me. I hand wash my clothes in 5 gallon buckets with a plunger. Trust me, my joints are worked when I do laundry. 

So it’s these two choices. Say it hurts and get ignored and told to keep going. OR Don’t say it hurts and get a lecture about “we aren’t here to hurt you. We need to work on this as a team so we know when to stop.” Okay. Then when I say IT HURTS, STOP!

And then they wonder why I hate physical therapy. Now I can’t even lift my full coffee cup. I am drinking from a straw because I can’t lift the cup. It feels like my ligaments, tendons, and muscle are being ripped from the bone and like my back is going to be crushed by the rock that feels like it’s rubbing up and down my spine. How’s that for physical therapy?

Thanks. I went from being able to barely do anything, to not being able to do anything at all (except blog and minecraft). That is so fan-flipping-fabulous. One month of this and I’ll be in a wheel chair.

And even after all my bitching, I still like my physical therapist. She is a sweet person. We just have to work on the “we” part of physical therapy.

Later today I have and EEG to see if I have a seizure disorder. I am curious to see what they say and see how this is done. You would think someone would have checked before now, with all my head injuries and whatnot. At least I can say one thing good about Cabinet Peaks Medical Center. WOW! Did that come out of my mouth? Why, yes. Yes it did. Mark your calendars!

Also, last Friday my doctor said that all my symptoms are consistent with Fibromyalgia. Before this, I always thought it was a BS diagnosis for, “we don’t know why you hurt. Bam! You have a disorder.” But the more I read about it, the more it sounds like me. The long sleeps I have, the pain, the headaches, the anxiety… all of it! But I am on the meds they would treat it with, and one is an anti-epileptic drug (gabapentin) so, if I am having seizures, I am set for all my problems this week. 

Okay, maybe in a month we’ll all figure out that if you touch me, that spot is going to hurt like hell for days. So, quit touching me!

For now, I am off to figure out how to get out of this outfit and take a shower when I can barely lift my arms.