Sunday Stroke Survival: Winter Doldrums

As winter sets in here in our little hallow, I start reevaluating everything. Freezing temperatures, and snow and ice makes driving up the foothill precarious enough for us to not even try in Mel's 4-wheel drive truck. I mean in an emergency we'd chance it, but just to go to town...no way, no how. You'd think I'd be stir crazy, but I'm not. There is plenty to keep my hands and mind occupied.

In case you don't know how much a cord of wood is

It isn't always so bad. Some days we've hit almost 50 before the sun goes down and with it the temperatures. We've burned through a cord of wood already and we haven't hit the really cold months of latter January and February yet. We'll probably go through at least four cords this winter. It's supposed to be a cold one. But even that being said. I prefer temperatures around the mid 60s or low 70s. My heart usually behaves better. Mel on the other hand, in her born and raised Orlando Fl body, prefers high 70s to low 80s. Growing up and living up north taught me to dress in layers to keep
warm and keep myself from being overheated at the same time.Yesterday, she finally pronounced it warm enough and I had stripped down to a tank top,

Today, I shed two layers (jacket and sweater) and was still working up a sweat loading a 1/4 cord of wood into the back of my van from the big wood shed to move onto the front porch. Mel would have just loaded it into unto several wheel barrow loads to make the trip, but being one handed, I have an issue with the wheel barrow. Chock it up to another tool that takes two functioning hands. At least I know that I can handle these splits of wood with little or no difficulty. These aren't the evenly split pieces of wood that you see bundled in the stores. They can weigh upwards of five to ten lbs two feet long a piece with plenty of splinters upon splinters in my arm, hand and fingers. Yes, I should be wearing work gloves, but they are a royal pain to get off and on.

Yes, I know I could use a wagon to pull the small load, but heck, I'd already taken care of the chickens, rabbits, household animals, made the bread/rolls, and set up dinner to cook on top of the wood stove BEFORE I went to get the wood. I had also gathered a 5-gallon bucket of kindling. Burning that little bit of gasoline was a lifesaver. That was until I got bogged down almost to the axle in the slick, clay mud. I grabbed the crepe myrtle branches Mel had cut down over the summer which lined out new makeshift driveway. It gave me enough traction to make it around front again. Another day on the homestead or Murphy's Law strikes again. I guess I could have played the disabled woman in distress card, but honestly, it never crossed my mind.

I'm considering totally coming off some of my medications. I'm beginning to wonder if I really need them all. I am always my own self advocate. I have to admit the Cymbalta helped my depression after my beloved's death. I'm definitely more active here than I was before. Yeah, my body aches, but look at what I'm putting it through. You'd think my fibromyalgia would flare up big time, but it hasn't enough to incapacitate me in almost two years. Considering my pain was so great before that I had even considered taking additional meds. I'm handling the pain better with more natural methods like cups of Earl Grey tea. Bergamot oil has been used for centuries for depression and nerve pain. I work through the pain. I do use reason and stop when I need to. Although I am taking more breaks than I used to ten years ago. Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm getting older too. It may take an hour or two to gain control with meditation and a couple cups of Earl Grey tea, but do I really need prescription too? Meditation is also  my control over my PBA. I'm not really asking you and I will talk to my physician.

My muscle relaxers are the bane to my existence. I'm on Botox, Zanaflex, Baclofen and Valium. Plus dry needling and therapy.  None of them are working worth a hoot to stop my post stroke spasticity. When the Botox wears off that's it. My foot inverts and will develop sores unless I use care to prevent it. My wrist is solidly locked and contractures prevent it from releasing to neutral without some serious, constant manipulation. Surgery is even more not an option with a third heart valve and a triple A in the mix. I haven't taken Valium in over a year. The Zanaflex plays havoc with my heart. I have gradually tapered my dose down to 2 mgs per night instead of 16 because of this. And yeah, there was discussions with my cardiologist and neurologist. There are definitely advantages to not sleeping at a 45 degree angle, ingesting quantities of salt before bed to keep my heart rates above 40 and not feeling like a fish out of water gasping for breath every night since my aortic valve started crapping out last year.

What I've opting for instead of drugs. I'm embracing my spasticity. It is what it is. It's going to be part of my post stroke existence until the powers that be find a way to fix it. It's not a part time thing but a full time issue. Sometimes is worse than it's other. When it's bad, it's horrible and nothing makes it better. I would live the horrible times in a continuous, warm bath of epsom salts, rosemary, and thyme if I could, but that's not living. I'll cry and move on until the next time. Even when I'm in a Valium induced sleep, I'm still in pain. So I'll treat the pain with Tramadol when necessary. I'll pick and choose what I take and when. Hopefully, the increased Botox will have a longer carry over effect so there will be less breakthrough of severe spasticity between series. It's a shame when you have to pick which poison you put in your body.

So do you reevaluate decisions during the winter doldrums? What have you concluded?

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: This is NOT the life I Ordered!

Anybody that knows me knows I wear some snazzy T-shirts that express what I'm feeling. As you can judge from the title of this blog what I'm feeling today. Yep, I'm on the pity pot today. Or partially. I'm not to the point of throwing things around in frustration, but I'm close.

Last night, I roasted an eggplant, Vidalia onion, and half a tomato to go along with my fried breaded okra. Yep, all exception the onion were from my garden picked earlier in the day. The intention was to scoop out the eggplant and tomato, mix it with the onion and top it with some shredded mozzarella cheese which I had made the day before. I was going to sprinkle it with some fresh oregano, basil, and rosemary which I had harvested just for the purpose before I placed it under the broiler. My mouth was watering just thinking about it while harvesting.

While the vegetables were in the oven, I cleaned and breaded the okra. I poured the oil into my cast iron skillet to heat and the timer went off on the oven. It takes me four times as long when I have to cut up vegetables now. I donned my oven mitt to get the sheet pan out of the oven. I was carrying it back to the cutting board when I tromped on one of the cats' tail. I lost my balance. The sheet pan tilted and all my pretty vegetables slid onto the floor.

I grabbed some paper towels and started to get it up when I noticed the smoke rolling out of my skillet.  When my vegetables hit the floor, the tomato went everywhere in a hot, wet mess of well roasted vegetable (or is it a fruit). I stepped over the mess and turned the heat off. A good thing the oil had been new or it would have made everything taste like burnt yuck. As the oil cooled, I cleaned up the ruined vegetables.

I contemplated roasting some more eggplant, onion and tomato, but decided against it. It was already going on 9PM. I fried the okra and had that for dinner. That's the good thing about being alone. I decide what and when to eat. My husband was always a meat, veg, and bread type of man. Even when he only ate tablespoons of food, he stuck to it. No way would he been satisfied with just fried okra for dinner even though it was one of his favorites.

So today, I'm keeping it simple. I'm doing Asoba noodles. You Americans will recognize it if I used the word :Ramen" noodles. The difference is I add extra yummies to mine like green onions, fish, shredded carrots, and spinach. I cooked the vegetables and make my own soup base. Sometimes, I'll substitute Kale or seaweed if I have it on hand. I change up the meat to chicken, beef, or tofu (if I made any). The little packet goes into a drawer for when I make a big pot of chicken soup because of the sodium level being so high. It's a bowl of soup that is a meal.

I've been eating all sorts of things since my husband died. For the first week, it was seafood. He had an allergy to all seafood. The next week was vegetarian. The week after was Indian. Since I've had my fill of these, it's whatever strikes my fancy or my energy level. I can cook once and it'll feed me for a couple of days. I only eat one full meal a day now. I know, I know, it ain't healthy. But yet, I usually eat a good meal with all healthy stuff. The rest of the time I nibble and snack. It might be popcorn and nuts, or fresh veges, it might be cereal, or fresh peaches and low fat cottage cheese.

It's just too much trouble cutting up meats and veges for one person twice a day. When I cut up broccoli, cauliflower, celery, or carrots, I always cut double the amount for snacking later or for the next meal. Sure it would be easier to buy nuke meals, but I've had my fill of them in the past year and a half probably forever would be too soon to eat another one. I just love to cook or I did when I could move and use two hands. I pick my battles to ease fruastrating myself as much as possible.

That's like all the forms I've been confronted by these last couple weeks. Life insurance and my husband's retirement plan especially. They were several pages of fill in the blank. I already have difficulty reading with my stroke, but writing legibly...forget it. I wish my old typewriter worked. I have to wait to fill out these forms when one of my daughters or grandchildren come over. I can't draw a straight line to save my life and numbers fuggedaboudit! I have a hard enough time reading phone numbers and addresses that I've written. Don't get me wrong. I know practice makes perfect, but I just do not have the dexterity in my multiple injured, but healed left hand. But that's what I'm left with because my right hand was affected by my stroke.

Would I like a little cheese with my whine. No, thank you. I warned you in the beginning that this was my moment on the pity pot. Getting out of the shower today, I (of course) got my panties and shorts in a wad on my affected side. I didn't have my husband to run to for help. I just had to deal with it. Twenty minutes later, success. I was finally able to leave the bathroom fully clothed. Totally exhausted from the effort. If I hadn't gotten so dirty and sweaty in the garden this morning, I wouldn't have had to get a shower in the first place. Now, gone up in smoke are the plans to make a new bunny cage for the new Angora bunny baby I'm getting at the end of next month. It's much cheaper to build the cages than to buy them. I just don't have the energy to spare. A good thing I made my soup base before I took a shower.

On days like the past twenty-fours have been, I have to keep reminding myself that life without challenges would be boring. I could stand a little boredom right now. Nah, not really. I would get in so much trouble if I was bored. A WHOLE LOT MORE than I get into now.  I should be content but I'm not. I want more. I think I'll work on the sweater I started to knit. That's the ticket. How much trouble can I get into knitting? But you know as a Murphey, there's always Murphy's Law.

Nothing is impossible.

"I Can See!" Says the Almost Blind Woman

I awoke today with my vision almost restored to normal. I'm still way sensitive to bright lights like sunshine, but regular house lighting doesn't cause pain anymore. The past two days have been filled with boredom! Two whole days of drops in the eye, a darkened room, pizza deliveries, and antibiotics worked! I found out my husband's kindle will actually read text to me so that helped. I can actually see the letters I'm typing on my 27" monitor...so it's back to work. My pile of chapters to be read and edited have grown to a small mountain on my desk.

I expect the eyestrain of trying to read, but at least I can read. While listening to books is interesting, I've done it while traveling long distances often, it isn't the same as reading the printed word. I've gained a whole new appreciation for my eyesight.

Keep writing and loving the Lord.

Typing Blind or Almost

Have you ever had a paper cut? Of course most of us have. Have you ever had a paper cut to the eye? Yeah, Murphy's Law strikes again. I was in the grocery store with the store flyer in one hand while I reached up on the top shelf for some hand soap. Whaappp! The flyer flipped back into my face. Now, most of us have been hit in the face by papers at one time in our lives or other. This actually left paper cuts on my upper and lower lid, and left small cuts on my cornea. Can we say, "OUCHIE?"

Thus, typing blind or almost. I went to the doctor this morning when my eye was swollen closed and red like I'd been punched in the face. The whole eye is infected after twenty-four hours. What makes matters worse is my right eye is sympathetic to my left injured eye, so all my vision is blurred. I can distinguish colors and vague shapes, light and dark, but that's about it. Luckily my fingers know the position of keys on my keyboard so I can type this blog. I'm hoping there aren't too many typos in it.

Little things in life get taken for granted until you aren't able to do them. Like walking outside without sunglasses on, reading the paper, watching television, driving, and a reading the microwave instructions on a package of a T.V. dinner to set the timer.

The good news is the doctor said there shouldn't be any permanent damage. If I had waited until Tuesday when my regular optomologist had an appointment open all bets would have been off. So for the next few days, I'll be in my room, twiddling my thumbs, and listening to the television. Waiting until the steroids and antibiotics take hold and I can see clearly enough again to edit, write, and just enjoy my life....I knew I should have eaten more black-eyed peas for New Year's Day....Ratzzzzzzz!

Keep writing and loving the Lord!