tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-336115142024-03-19T01:42:25.900-06:00Weird is good; Normal is boringWhy do I have a blog when I already have a website? It's all DAVID HEWLETT'S FAULT!crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-57615580830448148932010-04-13T13:33:00.004-06:002010-04-13T13:39:04.291-06:00Seven weeks down, the rest of my life to go<u>Tired of:</u><br />taking pills<br />having to eat breakfast<br />checking my blood sugar every day<br /><br /><u>Surprisingly okay with:</u><br />counting carbs<br />not overeating<br />giving up Pepsi<br /><br /><u>Really liking:</u><br />Losing weight<br />Feeling comfortable in my uniform (see above)<br />Giving clothes that are too big to Goodwill<br />Feeling better!<br />.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-47993050607525456152010-03-29T11:01:00.001-06:002010-03-29T11:04:29.084-06:00Best doctor visit EVER!My doctor is VERY happy with me. Apparently most people don't do this well right off the bat. I have to admit I thought it would be harder, too. The carb counting is pretty concrete, though, which makes it easier for me. Also I really really don't want to damage my kidneys or my liver, and I'd like to keep my toes and my eyesight, so I'm pretty motivated.<br /><br />My stress fracture is completely healed, so I can start exercising again. I can use the treadmill, but she suggested I NOT do that every day like I was, and instead do a bicycle or the elliptical trainer more than the treadmill.<br /><br />I've lost 11 pounds in the last month. Woo-hoo!!! <br /><br />She was very happy with my daily blood sugars. Last time I had lab work done, since they weren't expecting to see the diabetes, she didn't order a hemoglobin A1C. That test measures your overall glucose over the last three months. She had the lab run it once she got my results, while they still had my blood sample, and it turned out to be 6.4, which is NORMAL. That's awesome, because it means my diabetes is a very recent development, which means the odds of me having already done any damage to my organs is pretty much zero. <br /><br />I had a pneumonia shot today, which is mandatory every 5 years for diabetics. I also MUST have a seasonal flu shot every year, see the eye doctor every year, see the dentist every six months, and get lab work every three months. That's all a pain in the neck, but on the other hand, why would I complain about making sure I'm healthy? I had to start one more medication, too, as a preventative measure to protect my kidneys from the diabetes. It's a generic, so it's cheap, and kidneys are expensive. <br /><br />Dr Rita said that my stress fracture, the vitamin deficiency, and the hypothyroidism would all have contributed to the high blood sugar, so getting those things corrected, combined with my diet changes, should really help the diabetes. She said it's possible I could get off the diabetes medication after a few months, but that medication helps cholesterol and weight gain as well as blood sugar, and as I get older I'd probably find it harder and harder to control my blood sugars and end up back on medication. I'm on the lowest dose they have, and I've read a lot about it, and I'm okay with staying on it. It has a lot of benefits and virtually no side effects (except stomach upset, which I haven't had except for the first day). It doesn't cause low blood sugars, so even if my control is excellent, it still won't hurt to take it. <br /><br />I celebrated by going to Starbucks and getting a mocha and a scone, a piece of coffee cake, and a piece of pumpkin bread...but I shared with Brian and only ate the portion I'm allowed. Those mochas are really helping me get through the chocolate cravings without cheating!<br /><br />I had follow-up lab work today, so Wednesday I'll find out how I'm doing on the cholesterol, vitamin D deficiency, thyroid, and liver enzymes. Dr. Rita said that there should be significant improvement on all of them. <br />.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-26475884696919467162010-03-28T13:47:00.003-06:002010-03-28T14:27:09.662-06:00Approach-Avoidance<span style="font-style:italic;">Approach-avoidance occurs when an individual moves closer to a seemingly desirable object, only to have the potentially negative consequences of contacting that object push back against the closing behavior.</span><br /><br />Tomorrow is my follow-up appointment with my doctor. I'm looking forward to it, mainly because I'm pretty confident I won't have to wear the walking boot anymore. I've been working really hard to make the necessary changes to my diet and take my meds on schedule, so I'd really like to see how my blood work looks now. <br /><br />On the other hand, what if my labs aren't better? That would be very discouraging. It's only been four weeks, and maybe that's not enough time to expect significant change. <br /><br />I know that in terms of calories, fat, and general nutrition, my diet has been WAY better in the last four weeks than ever before. My blood sugars have ranged from pretty good to perfect every time. I know, in my head, that I'm doing a good job. I'm a little worried that if that's not reflected in my test results, it'll put me in a funk. It shouldn't, but it might. Guess what I do when I'm feeling like that? EAT. I don't want to do that. <br /><br />I'm trying to focus on the progress I've made, and work on goals. And I'll ask my doctor how much improvement in the labs she would expect to see in four weeks.<br /><br />The two things I'm most interested in tomorrow: my weight and getting the stupid boot off!<br />.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-3225006226590769362010-03-21T01:15:00.005-06:002010-03-21T01:43:00.870-06:00Real lifeThe first real test of living from here on: going out to dinner. I decided that there was no point in getting crazy about it, because I'm still figuring out how to make this work. I drank water, skipped the appetizer, passed on the bread. I ordered my favorite pasta (Thai Chicken Pasta) and ate as much as I wanted (I took the rest home for GeekBoy to finish off). When we got home Vicki had her wine and I had one amazing hot chocolate & Kahlua thing that Kate made for me. I'm pretty sure I had more carbs than I'm really supposed to, but not NEARLY what I would have had normally (bread, maybe an appetizer, pasta, a drink with dinner and probably a bottle of wine after). <br /><br />Strangely enough, it wasn't that hard. I didn't feel cheated or left out at all. See there's that pod person thing again. I don't think I can possibly explain how HUGE these changes are for me. It can't be this easy. Surely this is going to get harder. Oh well, I'm going to enjoy this phase, and if it gets harder, I'll deal with it. No point in looking for trouble, right?<br /><br />Kate went home about 11:30, and I sent Vicki to bed at midnight. I had to go to work for a few hours (another reason I wasn't drinking), and after I get off work we're meeting for breakfast. I'm already calculating in my head how to order something good but "legal." <em>Why is this okay with me??</em> Shouldn't I be yearning for biscuits and gravy, or stuffed French toast? It's weird. <br /><br />My blood sugars have been consistently normal since I started checking them, and I seem to have adjusted to the meds, since those lovely GI side effects are gone. I'm resolved to look at tomorrow's blood sugar check as research and not be upset if it's high. Hopefully it will be okay, but if it's high, there's a lesson learned. <br /><br />I haven't really been worrying about my cholesterol. I'm concentrating on the blood sugar issue right now, and just avoiding making stupid choices, like eating a bunch of cheese instead of carbs. One step at a time.<br /><br />And I'd just like to mention that this week when I put on my uniform I had to take my belt up a notch. WOO-HOO!! Also, at this moment, I feel <em>great</em>. Just in general. I'm not tired, I don't feel overwhelmed, my uniform isn't strangling me, I just feel good. That's pretty darned cool.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-61664482921386872592010-03-16T21:11:00.002-06:002010-03-16T21:18:14.801-06:00Happy to report that all is boringJust boring old good news today. The bone density scan results were normal, so no osteoporosis or osteopenia! I need to take a regular over-the-counter calcium supplement because of my age and the fact that I don't drink milk, but no special meds are needed and I won't need another scan for two years. Yay for that! Once your bone density is low it takes a while to build it back up, even with prescriptions, so I'm relieved that getting this stress fracture to heal shouldn't be an more difficult than the average. The vitamin D deficiency that is partly to blame for the fracture is <span style="font-style:italic;">much </span>easier to correct. I WANT THIS BOOT OFF! I hate it. <br /><br />Also, just in case you needed some TMI, my mammogram was also normal. I wasn't really worried about that, but it's always good to know. Now once that bruise fades, I won't have to think about that for another year. <br /><br />And all my blood sugar tests have been normal since I started counting carbs. So far, so good. In two weeks I'll have repeat blood work and an x-ray, and then we'll see where I stand. And whether I stand without the stupid boot.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-59153310527404856232010-03-15T13:39:00.002-06:002010-03-15T14:05:07.413-06:00Is this me?I have the dates for my diabetes education classes and my follow-up blood work written on my calendar. I bought the big medicine sorter and the economy-sized bottle of vitamin D. I bought divided plastic containers so I can take healthy food to work instead of sending an officer to McDonald's. Today I have to go pick up my prescriptions for lancets and test strips for my glucose meter. <br /><br />Is this ME? This is my life? It just doesn't <span style="font-style:italic;">sound </span>right. What's really weirding me out is <span style="font-style:italic;">I don't mind</span>. <br /><br />I'm a frozen pizza, poptarts, and Pepsi kind of girl. Vegetables are something I eat because you're <span style="font-style:italic;">supposed </span>to, not because I like them. But I actually kinda liked the salad I had for dinner last night, and the unsweetened tea wasn't as good as a Pepsi, but it wasn't bad. I think I've been replaced by a pod person. I'M READING NUTRITION LABELS, FOR GOD'S SAKE!! It's scary. It's just so NOT me. <br /><br />I think I should be depressed, because even the low level of diabetes I have can have serious health consequences if not taken seriously, and it just sounds <span style="font-style:italic;">old </span>to say I have type 2 diabetes, hypothyroidism, high cholesterol, and possibly osteoporosis (still waiting on those results). But for some reason it doesn't really bother me that much. I'm taking it seriously, but I'm not depressed. <br /><br />If I can just get rid of the stupid walking boot, I'll be <span style="font-style:italic;">celebrating</span>, darn it!<br />.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2xnfu-L5Or4VmR2mFtEen5Ym0KMaRdSNJECkpQf1aaIRsc-uxvm0OQp3bcjvktcIO8RV2LkipD8QjxksfUMx5T_5jGGFyhALmqWTDS7_5F8U2qxgStvPexu4uj4Mgj-QPkSAdw/s1600-h/one_piece_samson_low.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2xnfu-L5Or4VmR2mFtEen5Ym0KMaRdSNJECkpQf1aaIRsc-uxvm0OQp3bcjvktcIO8RV2LkipD8QjxksfUMx5T_5jGGFyhALmqWTDS7_5F8U2qxgStvPexu4uj4Mgj-QPkSAdw/s400/one_piece_samson_low.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448954064786832546" /></a>crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-71339518007957719042010-03-12T00:20:00.007-06:002010-03-12T00:29:14.691-06:00New routinesFirst, there's keeping track of all the meds. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1njx8fizmjQF9jghVUrJT58DF9YrpW5MtIcJi4Il5XddBrEJUozzl6GltluTN1pI4kSTAnqubGc4waXxXQQlu-icXbnqU7piXFr-B9jwjMndKyjvxTepTUYvq3H8qP33K7dW7Dg/s1600-h/daily+dose.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1njx8fizmjQF9jghVUrJT58DF9YrpW5MtIcJi4Il5XddBrEJUozzl6GltluTN1pI4kSTAnqubGc4waXxXQQlu-icXbnqU7piXFr-B9jwjMndKyjvxTepTUYvq3H8qP33K7dW7Dg/s400/daily+dose.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447628897218431346" /></a><br /><br />Then there's checking my blood sugar once every day. That has actually turned out to be pretty easy, and my results have been excellent. Plus I got to have a pretty neon purple monitor! <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQqBpDhufFaZSCAjV2dNT4quvCoIFT4ppH4N_S5naZ7-7TaMwEN5KYhxvgdG_6gtY6xpU6C8_cLHi9yQwbfo0MkN9ym8Vk_yhGBB3TsUO1vDFrNrOvMguvMvrMlJaZsAnRIzxeQ/s1600-h/the+kit.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 368px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQqBpDhufFaZSCAjV2dNT4quvCoIFT4ppH4N_S5naZ7-7TaMwEN5KYhxvgdG_6gtY6xpU6C8_cLHi9yQwbfo0MkN9ym8Vk_yhGBB3TsUO1vDFrNrOvMguvMvrMlJaZsAnRIzxeQ/s400/the+kit.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447629243990861778" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />So right now I'm learning how to count carbs and figure out what's okay to eat. <br /><br />Best thing today? I think the Synthroid is starting to work, because when I woke up this morning, I wasn't tired! I didn't feel like I needed to go back to bed and sleep a few more hours. <br /><br />Tomorrow's test will be eating out for lunch. I'll be interested to see if I can eat reasonably and still get a good result on my meter. Stay tuned!crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-30313343511757902472010-03-09T22:44:00.002-06:002010-03-09T23:05:41.037-06:00It was good while it lastedI love Pepsi, pizza, poptarts, chocolate, sweet tea, Nutella, cheese, chocolate milk, and margaritas, to name a few. I knew that at some point the fun would have to end, though. And now approaching 50 (dear <span style="font-style:italic;">God</span>) and overweight, I hit the wall. <br /><br />Actually I hit the treadmill, and in less than a month I had a stress fracture in my foot. From <span style="font-style:italic;">walking</span>. That's kinda humiliating. My doctor said it was also alarming, and ordered a bunch of tests. The first batch came back this week. High blood sugar, high cholesterol, elevated liver enzymes, hypothyroidism, and a vitamin D deficiency. Hey, at least I'm not anemic! The results from my bone density scan aren't back yet, but there's a pretty good chance I have osteoporosis, or at least osteopenia. <br /><br />I'm going to have to get one of those double-sided medicine sorters with the MTWTF on it for all my new meds. One has to be taken on an empty stomach, another one on a full stomach. One is once a week, another is once a day, another is twice a day. Dammit, this is OLD PEOPLE stuff!<br /><br />This is going to be my journal. If I'm the only one that reads it, that's okay with me. In fact, it might be less embarrassing if I was! But what the hell.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-18237104314649974862009-08-10T22:01:00.002-06:002009-08-10T22:04:26.068-06:00We arrived, and I didn't even realize itBetween driver’s ed and college enrollment, we realized it’s time to teach GeekBoy about the real world. Except for school, he’s been living mostly in his computer and his imagination most of his life. That was okay, but it’s time and he’s ready, so the lessons have begun. He’s learning to drive (dear God!). He enrolled in his college classes online, ordered his textbooks, and paid his fees with his new bank card. He’s never bought anything at the store, so he’s learning to buy groceries and order burgers at the drive-thru. He’s learned to cook beef stroganoff and tuna casserole. <br /><br />As we’re doing all this, he’s turning 18, and I realized today that my role has changed. I’ve always been the guardian-dragon, standing between him and the world, keeping away people and things he couldn’t handle, only letting them through a little at a time as he was ready. Now he’s <i>ready</i>, and I can just <i>teach</i> him things. He doesn’t need a dragon anymore. He just needs a guide. How cool is <i>that</i>??<br />.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-63249294124162300552009-08-10T21:33:00.002-06:002009-08-10T21:36:04.474-06:00Sheldon vs LeonardWe watch “Big Bang Theory” a little differently here. I’ve told people that our goal is to move toward Leonard, and away from Sheldon. That makes sense to everyone who’s watched the show and knows GeekBoy.<br /><br />Taking a 17-year-old who qualifies for Mensa to the grocery store and discovering that he has no idea what green onions are (because he never paid attention to what you <span style="font-style:italic;">call </span>those things) is a little…frustrating? disconcerting? funny? All of the above. Watching him try to find the celery when he’s standing right in front of it is actually entertaining, because he gets the joke, too. He finally threw up his hands and said, “I really suck at this, don’t I?” After I explained the difference between celery and celery hearts, he started telling me about a documentary he’d watched about social networks and connections. He was still telling me about it when we arrived in the meat department, but he paused long enough to point out the chicken leg quarters that I’d been looking for. Then he continued with his explanation about Kevin Bacon and mailing a package from Africa to New York and how that applies to networks. I put several packages of meat in our cart, and he asked, “Are you finished shopping? Because you’re supposed to buy meat last so it doesn’t get warm and cause food poisoning.” I told him he was channeling Sheldon again.<br />.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-3610235229928256832009-08-09T17:04:00.002-06:002009-08-09T17:09:06.870-06:00Not to mention, too many passwords to remember!<span style="font-style:italic;">I wrote this as my inaugural post on Facebook, because I was freaking out, just a little. Now I'm pasting it here, which seems kind of warped and just proves my point, sort of.</span><br /><br />I remember George Carlin doing a routine about "stuff," where you take a smaller version of your stuff when you go on vacation, and a portion of <span style="font-style:italic;">that </span>stuff when you go out for the day while you're on vacation...I keep thinking of that as I try to figure out this whole Facebook thing.<br /><br />Just how much of "me" can people stand? I can be really annoying (not on purpose), sometimes I'm funny (not always intentionally), sometimes I'm just boring. I try really hard not to show the goofy stuff to people until they know me, because I don't want them to think I'm idiot. A dork, yes, but not an idiot.<br /><br />On Twitter, the people who follow me don't know my real name, even though some of us have been "talking" for years on one site or another. I can complain about family and coworkers, talk about my job, post when I can't legally drive, etc., and not worry about offending anyone. I can admit to the alarming amount of Stargate trivia I have in my brain. We know each other, and there's no image to uphold. That's kind of the point.<br /><br />On yet another site, I have some things I wrote a few years ago that I don't think anybody remembers are there, and I'm okay with that. Some of it's kind of personal, and I only give out the URLs to people I'm pretty sure won't laugh (except when they're supposed to). Although technically anyone can read it, it's unlikely anyone I know would find it unless I gave them the address.<br /><br />On my (mostly abandoned) blog, some people who read it actually know me, and I keep that in mind. I've written some things there that are actually pretty good, and I have sort of poked fun at some relatives before, but I keep in mind that both family and coworkers could possibly read it.<br /><br />On my high school classmates' site, I pretty much say what I want, because they already know I'm a dork, and I figure they're either laughing with me or they just delete my posts without reading them. They can tell when I'm being silly and when I'm serious, and they give me the benefit of the doubt. I really like it there.<br /><br />Pretty much everyone I've ever met, a lot of the people I work with, and everyone I'm related to seems to be on Facebook. That's a little intimidating. I don't have to "friend" all of them, but what's the point of being here then? Some of them don't know the true extent of my goofiness, and maybe I'd like to keep it that way. Maybe this is the place to share photos and watch my manners. Maybe I won't worry about it. I haven't decided.<br /><br />There is the question of how many versions of myself I can keep track of. And whether it's a sign of serious mental problems when you have that many versions of yourself to start with. Maybe I need to consolidate some of my versions.<br /><br />Facebook is really complicated.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-22280285060965103942009-05-01T11:54:00.002-06:002009-05-01T11:55:49.477-06:00Cool dudes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieq8HnXFQYUhGRKOESSD8ArY-n6CJSz6vI5vAxiQgsAokeFzYLpOA6sUZvCOtp2x8D7x_5kqVXXFZohGtHzQ9C-Hw-cPop0gQfH-9Wj7RxyEErH_7fprlNB_GQN2pRdOCpPGZ3Jw/s1600-h/cool.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieq8HnXFQYUhGRKOESSD8ArY-n6CJSz6vI5vAxiQgsAokeFzYLpOA6sUZvCOtp2x8D7x_5kqVXXFZohGtHzQ9C-Hw-cPop0gQfH-9Wj7RxyEErH_7fprlNB_GQN2pRdOCpPGZ3Jw/s400/cool.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330915738532560530" /></a><br />My nephew and his friends getting ready for prom. Take a guess which one is related to me. <br />.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-67746100013626350842009-04-28T21:22:00.002-06:002009-04-28T21:23:48.800-06:00My mascot<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL9nro7f61WpcO_5cM0JCqNQHIAwemTvymSQF9MmQovNT_-uzzVpxWpYbf0vNxocYbP0IbHWQ59xLFeQ7OdxwWWLjtVvd7LmaLE4QasegCKMg93vnlvI0Kj_zOETfkwAcAkvq-jg/s1600-h/100_3074.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 366px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL9nro7f61WpcO_5cM0JCqNQHIAwemTvymSQF9MmQovNT_-uzzVpxWpYbf0vNxocYbP0IbHWQ59xLFeQ7OdxwWWLjtVvd7LmaLE4QasegCKMg93vnlvI0Kj_zOETfkwAcAkvq-jg/s400/100_3074.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329948861182829170" /></a><br />He stands guard on top of my monitor while I do important police work...like write up dog bite reports. <br />.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-55777394988207171682009-04-22T17:58:00.002-06:002009-04-22T18:00:18.877-06:00Easter 2009<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0TDHjVok8dJxRq9MZuv7GBYgqRQd-PAYI7EL6mN73QnsiGghdcb3NYJNvQMv37VuKQCGlbw-qs5eREKdIufWMnq2FL7z1SqwWUDb8Gw3d3ey4Q7YyHUTrOe5Xq5stLulAD6zi5A/s1600-h/EmmaEaster.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0TDHjVok8dJxRq9MZuv7GBYgqRQd-PAYI7EL6mN73QnsiGghdcb3NYJNvQMv37VuKQCGlbw-qs5eREKdIufWMnq2FL7z1SqwWUDb8Gw3d3ey4Q7YyHUTrOe5Xq5stLulAD6zi5A/s400/EmmaEaster.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327669852009752530" /></a><br />After going to Florida and meeting Mickey, Minnie, Winnie and Goofy, meeting the Easter Bunny is no big deal!crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-16235278836376319092009-02-16T10:51:00.003-06:002009-02-16T10:58:09.308-06:00Life Goes On, with as much fun as possible<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUBvP8xTmdcT6bhjftNn9AeL7-EgiCOHjkP5AYh-FBzROnZi6yeMILrqIyl1jxBXTHyWmdR0LJ6iCz1ppd0BJ6SfER57IC3VO8uiDq-dm4OvbsJXtM0n98hOx1zQr-uJTQiQhrg/s1600-h/EmmaAtThePoolsm.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUBvP8xTmdcT6bhjftNn9AeL7-EgiCOHjkP5AYh-FBzROnZi6yeMILrqIyl1jxBXTHyWmdR0LJ6iCz1ppd0BJ6SfER57IC3VO8uiDq-dm4OvbsJXtM0n98hOx1zQr-uJTQiQhrg/s400/EmmaAtThePoolsm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303440353734704306" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uffV06awQUiA3vWI0rNz5jVswczkCxi7shVQJn7QVNhvzXxWSPUYBsd3WKGpaIsyZkIOXah6fHV-YiJT10Lp_RC_UMnBtmMGxjxhATNsOTMjaxQ2pHJTmol3IjRGfVQYQdt8rQ/s1600-h/Emma&Cameronsm.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uffV06awQUiA3vWI0rNz5jVswczkCxi7shVQJn7QVNhvzXxWSPUYBsd3WKGpaIsyZkIOXah6fHV-YiJT10Lp_RC_UMnBtmMGxjxhATNsOTMjaxQ2pHJTmol3IjRGfVQYQdt8rQ/s400/Emma&Cameronsm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303440357350737762" /></a><br />Regrouping. This coming Saturday will be Emma's 3rd birthday. She loves "The Wizard of Oz" and carries around a little stuffed dog named Toto in a basket, so guess what the theme will be? They've put out an open invitation to their friends and are going to do a toy exchange instead of gifts. Punch and cake for the kids, adults bring their own beverage, and everybody welcome. I think that's a fabulous idea! Stay tuned for photos of the big event!<br /><br />Emma was never able to swim or even take a bath because of her chest port, but that was removed in December, so Mom & Dad took her to a water park last weekend. First she said no thank you, she'd just watch from the side, but naturally it didn't take long before she was having a ball! She still thinks her baby brother is her own personal baby doll and loves to take care of him. <br />.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-44866772635608910312009-02-08T18:56:00.002-06:002009-02-08T19:05:31.568-06:00Not what we wanted to hearTwo weeks ago routine tests showed that Emma's leukemia is back. Two days ago we had the official meeting with the doctors. They estimate she has six months. She is feeling fine, and probably will continue to feel relatively well for quite a while, getting most of her chemo treatments at home. The chemo will only slow the leukemia down, though. <br /><br />In two weeks she'll be 3 years old. What can you say? We're not handling it well right now. Her parents and grandparents are planning as much fun for her as they reasonably can for the spring and summer. First on the list is a trip to Lexington, Kentucky, to see the thoroughbreds. She adores horses.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-54995760708975818162008-12-28T23:47:00.005-06:002008-12-29T00:14:37.230-06:00Don't sweat the small stuffEmma has had three Christmases so far. The first one she spent in the hospital, newly released from the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, wearing a Santa hat while getting chemo in her hospital baby bed. <a href="http://weirdisgood-normalisboring.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2007-01-01T00%3A00%3A00-06%3A00&updated-max=2008-01-01T00%3A00%3A00-06%3A00&max-results=19">Her second Christmas she got to be home,</a> with her leukemia in remission (we thought), and she had a great time. Now, a year later, she spent her third Christmas in a hospital room. It wasn't the Christmas we had planned, but nobody's complaining. She is more than 100 days post-transplant, and her new bone marrow is chugging right along, with all her test results showing only the donor cells and no leukemia lurking in her spinal fluid. She can go out in public as long as she wears a surgical mask, which she doesn't mind doing. The only problem she's been having are intermittent mysterious fevers, which require intravenous antibiotics through her chest port. <br /><br />Her oncologist suspected the culprit might be bacteria hiding in her chest port, which was implanted more than a year ago, but removing it would mean every time she needed an IV they'd have to stick her, and nobody wants to stick a 2-1/2-year-old if they don't have to. However, a sudden fever spike (and pneumonia) just before Christmas settled the question, and on Christmas Eve the port was removed. Sure enough, the surgeon told Emma's mom that they found "a lump of gunk" growing on the end of the port (she made them bring it out so she could see for herself). Emma bounced right back and came home the day after Christmas with a PICC line in her arm, so she can still get IV meds without having to be stuck. She is still surprised when she pulls up her shirt, saying "My lines are gone!" because she had those IV lines coming out of her chest for as long as she could remember. Now she just has one line in her arm, and she helps her mom and dad put her medicine in three times a day for 30 minutes, carrying the pump around by herself when she wants to go somewhere while she's getting her medicine. <br /><br />Christmas Day might have been spent in the hospital, but it wasn't a bad day. The nurses spoil her rotten, and she's known some of them her whole life. She spent the morning opening presents with Mom & Dad like any other kid, and she got to show everything to her new baby brother. She didn't care that the nurses were there too. The next day she came home and opened more presents, and the only thing she was unhappy about was the fact that she wasn't allowed to turn somersaults while her medicine pump was hooked up. She's eating well and filling out, and while her hair is still pretty short, there's plenty of it now! <br /><br />Nope, no complaints.<br /><p><br />.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-85702648540334372072008-12-07T18:49:00.005-06:002008-12-28T23:44:53.451-06:00Emma & Cameron meet Santa<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYor3YcfgcpmwyF9bz2WCHiuRt0jdZpHbmJhZiYOafCBQDbS1LdHw0aaw_FKwp6f8t6XNhvGkyz4Yb_ZCwqPx38L2sbKIVkwowg7nygp_u2Lsa1-qixGkNm6d9esJhamN4gu9Og/s1600-h/CamEmmaSanta3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 314px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYor3YcfgcpmwyF9bz2WCHiuRt0jdZpHbmJhZiYOafCBQDbS1LdHw0aaw_FKwp6f8t6XNhvGkyz4Yb_ZCwqPx38L2sbKIVkwowg7nygp_u2Lsa1-qixGkNm6d9esJhamN4gu9Og/s400/CamEmmaSanta3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277227565707417938" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHpzO_TZVD_oZlyvMbUMWPa14VeC9aGp2YHADCRoW4RBVcFyT1uA4M1fLZor2v_W8Jdkp-I1cg0cLfpVimC2GhZQub5ciqmtQa8K66a7fZk6k2ndqaQ9hF-rkboHfWveF3hbobg/s1600-h/CamEmmaSanta2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHpzO_TZVD_oZlyvMbUMWPa14VeC9aGp2YHADCRoW4RBVcFyT1uA4M1fLZor2v_W8Jdkp-I1cg0cLfpVimC2GhZQub5ciqmtQa8K66a7fZk6k2ndqaQ9hF-rkboHfWveF3hbobg/s400/CamEmmaSanta2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277227557821911474" /></a><br /><br />Emma's met Santa before, and in her head she <em>knows </em>that underneath that beard is PawPaw Tim, but it's still just weird when you're 2! She was happy to talk to Santa and tell him she would like to have a new baby doll, but she absolutely refused to sit on his lap. When Grandma Chris asked her where Pawpaw Tim was, Emma pointed to Santa and whispered, "He's right <i>there</i>." She knew that was her grandpa...but at the same time it wasn't.<br />.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-55814721447378418862008-12-07T18:38:00.005-06:002008-12-28T23:46:03.457-06:00Emma's newbabybrotherorsister has arrived!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1LeeR7D5Stw8mFYOguQnsrXVhW_8ff5-_iAm0YBgV8cP4QjERyLtJGi7BigKgDlTJJjA9S5gvIb9sahqbmPdsFsmmaiFfkbpSexUX1o5z73T6MPhRv5vPFjx1JYQYHexjUIkVQ/s1600-h/CameronEmma2sm.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1LeeR7D5Stw8mFYOguQnsrXVhW_8ff5-_iAm0YBgV8cP4QjERyLtJGi7BigKgDlTJJjA9S5gvIb9sahqbmPdsFsmmaiFfkbpSexUX1o5z73T6MPhRv5vPFjx1JYQYHexjUIkVQ/s400/CameronEmma2sm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277214470753428770" /></a><br /><br />Cameron Lukas Hill arrived safe and sound on November 11th. Emma was thrilled, as you can see. She still thinks he's pretty cool, now a month later. She has figured out that his name is Cameron, not newbabybrotherorsister, as she kept calling him at first. After all, that's what everyone had been calling him for weeks! She also calls him "my nay-nay," which is what she calls her baby dolls. <br /><br />Emma is now more than 100 days post-transplant, so she can go anywhere she wants, as long as she wears her surgical mask, which she is pretty cooperative about. <br /><br />Here's the video of Emma meeting Cameron at the hospital:<br /><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BHVSA8PwZSQ"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BHVSA8PwZSQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br />.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-82954380336239459282008-10-21T01:25:00.003-06:002008-10-21T01:28:18.756-06:00Dancing with Pawpaw<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTfdbKyNMAXgIO_-_9WtkCuCAyrjJiM_pUWHJz6Q-yd4TpShdFhaeH35-cG-pb58FwcOZeAC1VKxqC2cRfgpSUxgv9JljLh8VVULdWR686gidgbtYULubgj4UMpr6uBnM6BCgI_A/s1600-h/dancing.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTfdbKyNMAXgIO_-_9WtkCuCAyrjJiM_pUWHJz6Q-yd4TpShdFhaeH35-cG-pb58FwcOZeAC1VKxqC2cRfgpSUxgv9JljLh8VVULdWR686gidgbtYULubgj4UMpr6uBnM6BCgI_A/s400/dancing.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259505166487667442" /></a><br />Emma loves to dance in the bubbles from her bubble machine! As you can see, her hair has grown back darker, at least for now. The meds make her pretty hairy, so her newest nickname is "were-baby." She thinks it's funny, of course.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-87944607114344441472008-10-20T17:08:00.003-06:002008-10-20T17:16:36.061-06:00Emma + 90Emma is 90 days post transplant! She's had some trouble with recurring fevers, but lots of tests show that she's just picked up a bacteria or two, easily taken care of with antibiotics. She is eating and drinking better, which has been the main concern. Apparently the radiation and drugs involved in the transplant procedure burn out your taste buds for while, so she's working back up to normal eating. "Nay-nay," as she calls her upcoming sibling, is due in just a couple of weeks, so keep Anna and Kyle in your prayers. They are going to be exhausted, physically and mentally. Emma, however, just keeps on and on, like the Energizer Bunny. I'll get a photo posted in the next couple of hours.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-3283311799234052702008-07-22T20:46:00.003-06:002008-07-22T20:59:47.753-06:00The day we've both dreaded and hoped forEmma had her stem cell transplant today. It will be well into fall before she gets to go outside again, but we have every reason to believe that in November she'll be eating turkey and pumpkin pie with the family again, including a new baby brother or sister. Check out her dancing skills in <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1F_a8ORjmZE"> the latest video</a>, taken Friday in her specially fitted-out hospital room. You'd never guess she'd already had four days of radiation and two days of chemo! Her mom told me they had to get her a "cage bed" because she was jumping on her bed so high they were afraid she'd tumble over the side! Too bad <em>that's </em>not in the video!<br /><br />I need to update <a href="http://www.buese.net/emma.html">her website</a>, too. In the meantime, you can check it out if you like cute kid pics!crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-48784249949802349422008-06-29T09:31:00.002-06:002008-06-29T09:35:54.374-06:00Yes, I'm a dork......but I can't help myself. I never shined a shoe in my life until last year, and now every other weekend is boot-shining time. After 45 years, you <em>can </em>learn something new! I got my boots so lovely and shiny I just had to take a picture. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNDrf-4Rx7EXBt5IuVtRGcB3d1WeG6X-dcZaG2l4HbNGPyuEeF4mMHByhWBtHAV-qMUzgGvATQUVIX6rU6XPWYF0v26c27oYOzjqbSGliQvv-KVfuHNzhGxjsAwRCObKsNxhw0xw/s1600-h/boots.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNDrf-4Rx7EXBt5IuVtRGcB3d1WeG6X-dcZaG2l4HbNGPyuEeF4mMHByhWBtHAV-qMUzgGvATQUVIX6rU6XPWYF0v26c27oYOzjqbSGliQvv-KVfuHNzhGxjsAwRCObKsNxhw0xw/s400/boots.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217327548565954322" /></a>crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-9053328350428382252008-06-08T12:08:00.003-06:002008-12-12T14:14:04.428-06:00Geek Syndrome<span style="font-style:italic;">For whovian and her nephew:</span><br /><br />I mentioned in an online forum that my son (known here and in many places as GeekBoy) has Asperger's syndrome, a form of autism. I was asked for more information and ended up writing what was intended to be a short overview of our experience. It got a little long, but I thought it was pretty good, and my cousin, a psychiatric social worker, told me it was terrific. In case anyone outside the Random Chat forum is interested, I thought I'd post it here. Thank you to whovian, aka Trish, because if you hadn't asked, I would never have thought to write it down! <br /><br />GeekBoy was diagnosed with ADHD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder when he was in third grade (about 8 years old). For the next couple years, Asperger's syndrome was mentioned from time to time, but I honestly didn't think he had that, based on what I knew (at the time) of the characteristics. There are a lot of areas that overlap between Asperger's, anxiety, and ADHD. By the time he was in 7th grade (about 12 years old) I realized he probably did have it, partly because there was better, clearer information available describing the characteristics and symptoms, and partly (I think) because we'd dealt with a lot of his true ADHD behaviors with modifications, training, and medication, and it was easier to see the Asperger stuff. He'd been seeing a psychiatrist for four years for medication, and I talked to the doc about the whole Asperger's thing. He told me that an official diagnosis is based on observation, which can be done through specialized testing, but the testing isn't always conclusive, is rarely covered by insurance, and is very expensive. He said based on what he knew and had observed of GeekBoy's problems, he agreed that he most likely had Asperger's. He wrote a letter for us for the school, where he already had been "identified" with "special needs" (Gifted and ADHD). <br /><br />The school psychologist and all that bunch told me that for school, the diagnosis isn't that important, since services are based on needs, and the needs don't change because of any particular label, but it's easier to tell someone he has Asperger's than to try to explain what he's like and what he needs, at least as a start. <br /><br />He has regular classes, plus a resource hour with a teacher who sort of works as his school case worker and his coach. His school is wonderful! It's a huge high school (1600 students), located in an older part of town, so the student population is very diverse--Hispanic, black, white, poor (including kids from the homeless shelter), wealthy, part-time students from the deaf school, etc. There is no "average" student there, so the teachers don't aren't freaked out by a kid who needs some special consideration. When he was in junior high, at a school of almost 100% upper-middle-class suburban kids, there were teachers who just didn't know how to handle the fact that when GeekBoy gets stressed, he needs to pace. Even when this was written into his educational program, it just freaked them out--it was a disruption! Now at his high school, once the teachers know this is his thing, and he won't take off or run away, they let him go out in the hall and pace if he needs to, no big deal. <br /><br />School is hard for him, though, because he can't keep track of his homework. Sometimes he forgets to do it, sometimes he does it but forgets to turn it in. He tends to wander off someplace in his own head as soon as he gets bored in class, so he misses things. His last IQ test result was 145, but it's a struggle for him to pass his classes. He gets decent to excellent grades on tests, but he doesn't turn in homework and he has trouble getting projects done on time. He can tell you all about the radar systems used by England and Germany during World War II because he saw a program about that on the Discovery Channel a year ago, but he can't remember what he did in English class today. <br /><br />He is hypervigilant about safety (bike helmets, seatbelts, power tools, ladders, the stove, etc.) to the point of being a pain in the neck, but not like Mr. Monk. If a subject interests him, he will learn everything he possibly can about it (just ask him anything about Stargate, I dare you!), but if he's not interested in something and/or thinks there's no point to it, he can barely tolerate dealing with it (this includes homework assignments). He doesn't like to be touched unexpectedly, but he is a hugger as long as he knows you're coming. He is hopeless at social cues, and we have to remind him to make eye contact when he's talking to people. He can't make small talk to save his life, and in a conversation he either talks your ear off or mumbles monosyllables. He is very sensitive to sounds. He wears earplugs in movie theaters because he can't stand the volume. Textures bother him, especially in food. He doesn't like chunks in anything (except chocolate chips). He absolutely won't eat shrimp, because of the texture (he calls it "crumfy"). He doesn't like to wear clothes at all, but when required (we require), he prefers loose, comfortable clothes with no tags in the shirts. He wears his socks inside out because the seam on the toes makes him crazy (thank heaven for Sean Connery in Finding Forrester). <br /><br />He will watch an anthill for hours. He's the same way with water. Show him a fountain and he'll go to sleep standing up. Give him a hose and he could play for hours, watching the water, but never remember to actually water the garden. When he wants to think, he walks in circles around the dining room table. <br /><br />It's obviously a big deal in some ways, but we've tried to keep it in perspective and not have him be self-conscious about it. He has a pretty good sense of humor about it, actually. Once in a while I'll forget myself and say, "Why are you pacing?" He'll say, "Hello? Autistic here!" <br /><br />GeekBoy will always be "weird" and will always have difficulties with social situations, but he'll be able to function independently in the real world, hold a job, and quite possibly have a family, assuming he finds a patient, organized woman! He has a great sense of humor, and is wicked with puns, so he may not be a social butterfly, but he'll have friends. Knowing he'll be okay as an adult helps us keep the trials and frustrations in perspective.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33611514.post-3770178975954011472008-01-05T21:44:00.000-06:002008-01-05T22:10:36.230-06:00Just when you find your comfort zone...I've gotten used to starting my day in a locker room, putting on my uniform. I've gotten used to remembering to shake up the pepper spray container every Monday so the contents don't settle. I've gotten used to answering the phone and having people ask questions like "Is getting a ticket for driving by a school bus that has its stop sign out considered a <em>moving </em>violation?" and having people tell me how inconvenient is for them to be arrested right now. It doesn't even feel weird anymore when I walk into the squad room in my uniform to change my radio battery and the sergeant is in the middle of roll call with patrol officers half my age. <br /><br />Getting comfortable...it was too good to last. Monday morning I go back to school for a week to learn more about Kansas law. At the Police Academy. With actual commissioned police officers...the ones they actually let carry guns...who are half my age. Oh joy. Sarge says I have to wear my uniform, too, so I'll stick out like a sore thumb. It will be good for me, right? Build my confidence? I'll keep telling myself that. <br /><br />The other "fun" thing is, I know most of the instructors. The problem is they know me from my volunteer days. My days as a <a href="http://www.buese.net/drinkingforjustice.html">volunteer <em>drinker</em></a>, that is. Yes, the last time most of the instructors saw me, I was legally drunk and trying to walk a straight line while the trainee officers practiced field sobriety testing. <br /><br />Maybe they won't recognize me.crazymomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02194717693320801607noreply@blogger.com0