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.

Happy Feet Just Can't Be Still

So far It's been an event filled October and November for me. I've been going with the flow, as it were and changes are in the works. I've been traveling too.

The biggest change is that I am NOT MOVING. Yes, I'm still divesting myself of worldly goods in an effort to live big with less. I will still be in this 2,000 sq ft house. I don't need 3/4 of the stuff I got. Maybe even 15/16th.

That being said there are some huge changes in the works. Mostly landscaping, as in cutting down trees to improve my solar capturing efforts. But then, it's mostly sunny here unless it's raining. I got to thinking about spending $50,000 on a new tiny house and property when I only owe a little over $40,000 on this house. I can whip this yard into shape with $10,000, than moving to a new location and then starting all over building up a new property. It just made more sense to me (after my daughter beat it into my head). Worse comes to worst, my next move will be into assisted living or a nursing home.

Full grown South Down sheep

I'm checking whether or not I can have a couple of miniature goats or sheep on the property. I mean they allow big dogs and are these are only 23" tall (smaller than some dogs). I still have my 4' to 8' fences around this property. It will just mean a bigger composting effort to manage the flies. But compost won't go to waste. I can even trade it with other gardeners for seeds, cuttings, or vegetables I don't grow.

Similar to this

So what will I do with all this unused space? Well, I'll put french doors in between my dining room and family room. This will become my rabbitry. It's already heated and air conditioned. I change their litter pans daily so there hasn't been a smell even with six rabbits. Most people don't even notice them until I draw attention to them. The family room is already their free, floor time romp room anyhow. But now it will be my rabbitry, grooming room, and spinning/ sewing room. The floor is tile over concrete already for easy clean up.

I'm destroying the wall between the kitchen and dining room. It's going to be tricky because it's a load bearing wall. But it will open up both spaces. A breakfast bar will be built so I won't need a dining table. Certainly, not one that seats 10 people like I have now. It's rarely used and gathers dust...more cleaning. I can finally do this to please me. I've only been talking about it for a dozen years, and I can finally do it. All I'm pulling up all the wall to wall carpet and putting in wood flooring. I'm also going to barter the largest spare room to a college student. It's a win-win situation. I won't be alone and I'll have someone who can change light bulbs and dust ceiling fans. They'll get free room and board.

I have to say, I'm pretty happy with these changes. I might actually get my van into my garage again too.

Other than that I've been traveling. First it was off to the Georgia mountains to pick up Dubu and help a friend. Then an unexpected perk from this blog. I flying off to California (all expenses paid) for a documentary premiere. Little, old me was invited to a movie premiere! It began two years ago when I posted about my PBA (PseudoBalbar Affect). As usual, I got the flurry of emails rather than comments. One lady and I chatted back and forth for about a month regarding this condition. While I couldn't help her at the time with what she wanted to do with a public awareness campaign, I could bounce ideas off her. And then, she was gone.

I didn't think about it again after she stopped emailing until I got her call. That's what I'm here for. So many people have passed through my life via email since I started blogging. She said that she'd be honored if I could attend and that I was instrumental to the project. Woah!

All my kids said they were proud of me. I was left scratching my head, "What did I do?" I only chatted with her. I tell it like it is and play cheerleader. It was no different than 1000 other such emails I get. My kids reminded me that it's what I always told them, "Be polite and helpful always because you have no idea who you are talking to."

For me, I was just being me like always. It was a nice perk though. I've never been to California before although I have seen the Pacific Ocean from the other side of the world. Hopefully the ground doesn't shake much, it'll be the same temperature as home, the paparazzi will held at bay, and I will have some fun.

Not her house but close

The next trip? No, grass growing under my feet. I'm planning a Christmas holiday in Alabama mountains. What's in the Alabama mountains? Well, my baby girl and my two youngest grandsons for one. She has invited me for Christmas with her family and extended family in her new log cabin. Another off the grid homestead, hers. She said it was in case I missed white Christmases. I didn't have the heart to tell her, I didn't miss it one bit. I only have dealt with the white, fluffy cold stuff for as long as I had to. My daughter in Alaska also invited me. My response was, "Uh, no, thank you. Maybe in the summer."

I'll leave you with this...

Aww, admit it. You were tapping your toes too.

Have a great week.

Sunday Stroke Survivor ~ Inappropriate or Overkill Emotions

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I've talked about my inappropriate responses on this blog for over a year. It has a name that I haven't discussed yet. It's called Psuedobulbar Affect (PBA). You may have seen recent television commercials about it recently. Now you are meeting someone afflicted with it. It's not depression.

It's a side effects of my stroke. No, I'm not crazy for laughing for no apparent reason, or bursting into torrential sobs at someone saying "boo," or going ballistic with rage when you drop a pin. I just can't help myself and I have no control over it either. No I'm not exaggerating or taking an author's license.

Some of you may remember the blog about the one and only wedding I officiated since my stroke. For those who didn't get a chance to read it, it's here. Since my stroke, you won't find me without a box of tissues and my incontinence pads for this very reason.

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Everyone has something that tickles their funny bone. That's normal within the confines of the situation. People tear up at commercials or movies. That's normal too. Everyone has an instance where anger explodes for a just cause. That's normal too. What I'm talking about is no control and no outward event which triggers this response.

I can start crying for no apparent reason or laugh outrageously over something sad. Even if it is as image that I saw on television months ago of one of those starving children. All it takes is the picture to flutter through in my mind. The same thing goes with laughter and anger, or any emotional response. It is beyond appropriate to the extreme. I can laugh until I can't breathe and pee my pants. We used to joke about one of our daughters who would get so tickled that she always ran from the room saying, "I gotta pee!" Well I can't run nor have significant control of my bladder so I'll pee my panties.

My family and friends look at me with concern and ask if I'm okay. My usual response is an attempted nod of my head and a wave of my hand until I finally get control back. It can last several seconds or several minutes. That's why most of the events I go to revolve around family. I rarely go places surrounded by strangers because they will not understand what is going on. But I'm lucky, I have a huge family.

If it happens in public, I always have family or friends who will talk me down off the ledge. They will laughingly tell the truth to strangers, "She's okay. She's brain damaged." It gets some strange looks and people will sidle away with questionable looks and hope it's not catching. By the same token, I burst into tears at The Olive Garden one night because they ran out of what I wanted. It was like someone had told me my favorite dog had died. The poor waitress. Luckily that particular episode didn't last too long.

• Embarrassing? Oh yes! 
• Will it scar me for life? Nope because I realize it is part of my stroke affects me and not really me. It's no stranger than my AFO, cane, the way my arm won't move, or the way I speak. Although I will admit it is disconcerting to others. 
• Stand out in a crowd? Yep, I sure do more than my physical impairments. But then, I've always considered myself as a unique being in a crowd of dull people anyhow.
• Isn't there anything that can be done to fix this? Nope there isn't a cure. All they can do is prescribe drugs to ease the response. It doesn't stop it from happening. It's how my brain functions since the stroke.

Say hello to the new, and glorious me after a stroke. I was on Cymbalta before my stroke because of Fibromyalgia. Not depression. Now it seems that this same drug is used for PBA sufferers. It helps me keep control of my emotional outburst but not stop them entirely. There are many new drug therapies also. Welcome to my post stroke roller coaster- it's either a riot of laughter, crying in bucket loads, or exploding in indignant rage, but it's still me!

I refuse to hide under a rock.
I refuse to die.
I refuse to give up trying to be better.
I refuse to be ashamed of myself because of my circumstances.
Won't you join me?

Nothing is impossible with determination.