How did I get here??

I am 50 and had a brain bleed two days after my birthday.  What started as a horrible headache, quickly became "the worst headache in my life" and those words usually mean aneurysm. When uttered as you check in to the ER, they contain the magic whereby you find yourself fast tracked to a room and then fast tracked to radiology for a CT scan.  It took a lumbar puncture to diagnose a brain bleed and from there I was life flighted to Harborview Medical Center.  Everything became physically and mentally calm for me once they gave me some good pain meds, enabling me to obnoxiously take a picture from the helicopter.  My week in the ICU there was marvelously uneventful as each day proved that I wasn't going to have a stroke (one of the worst areas of risk following a bleed) and that I did not have an aneurysm, and that I had no deficits following the bleed.  Things I love: nurses..... nurses fucking rock!! (Good doctors are amazing too, but nurses make it all happen.)   Warm blankets.   Warm blankets make the pain go away.  Good insurance.  It's a conflict for me because everyone should have equal access to good medicine but insurance matters and I wish it didn't.

Really well oiled machine.

The first two hours of my day are: hectic, crazy,  non-stop, frenzied.  There are five people to get out the door; two of them are quite independent;  one of them is semi-independent; one needs gentle coaxing to get going  but takes off once moving and one needs gently coaxing and cajoling in order to not cause the whole machine to malfunction.

But here's the thing: once they have all left, the next six and a half hours of my day are quiet, serene, under control, mine.

No more excuses now I mean it...

If and when our house sells I am SO joining the Y and starting to work out again. I loved being fit. For a short time I was even strong (granted it WAS a short time... but still... there was muscle.... there was some small amount of definition...)! It will be interesting to do it and see what it does to my spirometry... (now measurable with my handy-dandy spirometer!!) Obviously, it will have to show something, I can tell without any test how much less I cough when I am working out. But it will be a huge motivator to see those numbers change. I quit the gym in October of '07 when we put our house on the market, assuming that our house would sell quickly enough that I wouldn't have time to attend the gym and I SO wasn't going to be one of those people who pay and don't go. Then the months dragged on and I never went back. Now I am unfit and a weakling! Give me three months.... hopefully I'll turn my lazy (albeit skinny) ass around. I have also managed to not drink any coke for two weeks. Amazing what a budget does to you... oh and an upcoming dentist visit. (Argh)

Now I'm annoyed....

No one seems to understand the process of laundry in this house. When the boys are sent to "clean" their pens... (I can't call them rooms... they only sleep there and apparently root around) anything that is not put away can (apparently) be put back in the laundry pile. Obviously, this is a LOT easier than actually putting stuff aWAY. They used to be much better at this. (Granted I DID have a great laundry room that effectively did away with three out of the 8 steps of laundry. (EIGHT steps you say??? Oh Yessss... I am very particular about laundry... Sort, pre-treat bad stains, Wash, Sort, Dry, Origami-fold, Sort, Schlep baskets to rooms, Shelve.) In fairness, everyone probably does this... (except for my folding... origami style) I thought that I got my laundry skills from my mother, but last time I was home she creased Trent's jeans in the wrong place... so he had the old man creases straight up the middle of his legs (interestingly this is how his mom does it too, except she also irons....)(I do NOT iron) So I realise that my laundry issues might be all my own. I wonder what I did in a past life to either a) deserve this... or b) to be so damn good at it... Whatever... the boys are facing a harsh reality, cause I'm considering a laundry strike... until they appreciate how much work it is.

Birthday Weekend

I appear to be still celebrating my birthday! We had a great weekend with the cousins in Victoria. I only had two kids with me (Trent had baseball tryouts with Neil). The weekend was so much fun. I got my wish of not moving far from the kitchen or living room. NO walks ON the beach... NO walks TO the park... No people jumping OUT OF cakes. (I HATE that!) BUT I did get lots of presents and some great cards. The O'Flynn cousins seem to have a distinctly crazy sense of humor. They each picked out a card for me and each one was funny and they each wrote funny things on them too. The O'Leary made cards (all featuring crayoned versions of me!) Truthfully, I felt very special. (Yes... "Auntie Dawa is VURY special..... ") I was feelin' the love.