Whelp, it's M's and my first wedding anniversary! How are we spending it?
...well, we both slept in way too late yesterday as we're both night owls and off work until January 5th for the holidays. So, it's 3:30 am and we're both still up. He's playing Mass Effect 3 (again), and I'm running a Pokemon Emerald Nuzlocke...as I clearly am a glutton for punishment from my video games.
But yeah! We were both determined our anniversary would be spent mostly resting (as we've both ran laps around ourselves for weeks prior to this one and because how I feel physically right now changes almost as fast as blinking) and on a nice dinner out. On our honeymoon, we ate at a great little restaurant named Japan One, where we got the best sushi either of us has ever had. This year, we're reliving that at our local Japanese restaurant (which is only about 6 months old) with a sushi dinner, followed by dessert at our local frozen yogurt shop (and one of my favorite places--and they have bubble tea, people! I have it on good authority that that makes my town a real town. Next stop? Wegmans!)
After that, the week we have off will be spent putting our apartment into order and getting ready for my surgery on January 7th. Yes, 7 am on the 7th, my gallbladder will be gone. I'm hoping it helps with a lot of my pain issues. My dad mentioned that his gallbladder never technically burst--it just died. He did, however, mention that a ton of my pain issues and symptoms are all ones he had before his died and rotted inside of him and that all of them were gone after his surgery. That is a huge comfort to me.
Obviously, I'm nervous about surgery, but I'm to the point where I just want it over with and done. I want my life back. I want my normal energy levels back. I want my right side to stop hurting all. The. Time.
Sunday, December 28, 2014
Monday, December 15, 2014
Happy Curry-mas! ;)
Being an adult educator means you sometimes do things never even imagined would be in your job description. Today's adventure?
Test-running a so-called simple chicken curry recipe...mostly as the author of said recipe thought it serves two people. Yyeeaahh...try seven...at least...if they fill their plates with curry and rice.
Verdict? Edible, tasty, and pretty darn fool-proof by my standards! It really was as simple as she said, thank God. (Remember--I am running this with some novice cooks. Simple is the rule for the day.)
But YEAH! Bring on Friday's holiday presentation! Group India is ready, yo.
Test-running a so-called simple chicken curry recipe...mostly as the author of said recipe thought it serves two people. Yyeeaahh...try seven...at least...if they fill their plates with curry and rice.
Verdict? Edible, tasty, and pretty darn fool-proof by my standards! It really was as simple as she said, thank God. (Remember--I am running this with some novice cooks. Simple is the rule for the day.)
But YEAH! Bring on Friday's holiday presentation! Group India is ready, yo.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
The Pain Saga: The Lap and Beyond.
This is part two of my pain diary. Everything is behind a cut as it's massively long; feel free to skip it if so you desire.
This particular section is also written as a list instead of a diary, mostly as things happened much faster.
This particular section is also written as a list instead of a diary, mostly as things happened much faster.
The Pain Saga: Pre Lap Era
So, now that I have some answers, I figure I can write up what life has been like the past few years leading to this biliary dyskinesia diagnosis. Perhaps writing this up will help some random Google traveler to figure out what's up with them before they suffer as long as I did!
I also want this listed here so I don't forget in the future what I went through during this time period. This literally has been a saga in my life--2011 to now--of non-stop pain issues, all starting around 2008. So it's not so painfully dull, I'll add in some pictures from each period of time. Perhaps seeing how well I hid my pain will explain why this took so long to solve.
I'll also put this all behind a jump cut so I'm not clogging up anyone's browser against their will!
I also want this listed here so I don't forget in the future what I went through during this time period. This literally has been a saga in my life--2011 to now--of non-stop pain issues, all starting around 2008. So it's not so painfully dull, I'll add in some pictures from each period of time. Perhaps seeing how well I hid my pain will explain why this took so long to solve.
I'll also put this all behind a jump cut so I'm not clogging up anyone's browser against their will!
Saturday, December 13, 2014
We Will Pretend This Sleep Madness Makes Sense
It's 4 am here. The wicked exhaustion I fought off all day prompted me to doze from 7 pm to 1:30 am. Hubby let me crash as, let's all be honest here and quote him directly, "When you came home so surly, my first thought was, 'Geeze, does someone ever need a nap!'" (True love right there, folks.)
And I did. Only now I woke up with a really sore elbow (slept on it funny), heartburn (my ever-present frenemy the past few days), and still sleepy but unable to sleep. So probably going to take something to crash here in a bit so my entire Saturday isn't wasted.
Then I look across the hall, where my hubby dozed off on that couch...and all I can think is, "Holy crap, do I ever love that man." And I feel all happy inside...and conflicted as I know he'll be in pain if I leave him sleeping there, but I don't want to disturb him, either.
So, to attempt to add some cohesion to this, anyone got a good remedy for gallbladder-caused heartburn? Because I'm about out of ideas here and would really, really, really like to sleep more than 4-6 hours at a shot sometime in the next, oh, week.
And I did. Only now I woke up with a really sore elbow (slept on it funny), heartburn (my ever-present frenemy the past few days), and still sleepy but unable to sleep. So probably going to take something to crash here in a bit so my entire Saturday isn't wasted.
Then I look across the hall, where my hubby dozed off on that couch...and all I can think is, "Holy crap, do I ever love that man." And I feel all happy inside...and conflicted as I know he'll be in pain if I leave him sleeping there, but I don't want to disturb him, either.
So, to attempt to add some cohesion to this, anyone got a good remedy for gallbladder-caused heartburn? Because I'm about out of ideas here and would really, really, really like to sleep more than 4-6 hours at a shot sometime in the next, oh, week.
Monday, December 8, 2014
A (Happily) Failed Test
My doctor called with the results of my HIDA scan with CCK. My gallbladder doesn't work. Though it looks totally normal on scans (past being a wee bit larger than expected) and though it is totally stone-free from what they can see, it doesn't eject bile anywhere near the rate it should. The office didn't give many details past that and a, "It doesn't work much at all--so little that it has to come out."
I nearly cried...I was shaking on the phone as I heard words that, though scary, were such a relief. I'm not crazy. There's something wrong with me, and they finally found it. Three years of suffering, and I finally have answers! I shouldn't be so elated to need surgery, but I finally--FINALLY--know why I've been in pain so long.
I know why my digestive system randomly rebels.
I know why I get stabbing pain in my ribs that takes my breath away if I move wrong.
I know why my entire abdomen feels inflated if I eat (seemingly) random foods.
I know why I never can fully know how a meal will affect me.
I know why I suddenly have had heartburn problems for the first time in my life.
I know why I am nauseous every single day of my life with no rhyme or reason.
I know why I'm so unbelievably exhausted all the time.
I know why so many of my aches and pains make absolutely no sense when compared with my known medical problems (supposed estrogen sensitivity and a chronically inflamed right ovary that has a near-ridiculous affinity towards making functional cysts that are smaller than my pain levels indicate.).
I'll still have cyst problems with my ovaries, and there's no way to know exactly what all of my symptoms come from my failing gallbladder before surgery is done, but the bizarre pain parts of my symptoms finally have some plausible, tangible answers with a solution at hand. Within a few days, I'll have an appointment scheduled with a surgeon to determine when my gallbladder will be removed. Due to a family history of gallbladder's bursting, mine is to be removed to avoid that possible complication.
On another interesting side to this, we know now over two decades later why my dad's gallbladder seemingly went from totally normal to gangrenous overnight. (Back story from what I can recall--when I was really little, my dad went into an ER with horrible pains and was sent away. He soon went back in with the same symptoms and a very high fever. They decided to remove his gallbladder "electively," mostly to shut him up. Lo and behold, when they got inside of him they found his gallbladder was not only leaking, but it was gangrenous from leaking for such a long time. At some point, it burst. No one knew why or how it happened, but it baffled all doctors as he had no symptoms of gallstones prior to the event. His mother had her own gallbladder removed under similar circumstances, but hers never burst or developed gangrene.) My PCP thinks my dad's own gallbladder stopped working like mine and, over a period of years, damaged itself to the point of bursting. We're glad I didn't go that route, and my PCP and his office are operating assuming that they caught mine in time.
So, praise God! There's a light at the end of this tunnel!
I nearly cried...I was shaking on the phone as I heard words that, though scary, were such a relief. I'm not crazy. There's something wrong with me, and they finally found it. Three years of suffering, and I finally have answers! I shouldn't be so elated to need surgery, but I finally--FINALLY--know why I've been in pain so long.
I know why my digestive system randomly rebels.
I know why I get stabbing pain in my ribs that takes my breath away if I move wrong.
I know why my entire abdomen feels inflated if I eat (seemingly) random foods.
I know why I never can fully know how a meal will affect me.
I know why I suddenly have had heartburn problems for the first time in my life.
I know why I am nauseous every single day of my life with no rhyme or reason.
I know why I'm so unbelievably exhausted all the time.
I know why so many of my aches and pains make absolutely no sense when compared with my known medical problems (supposed estrogen sensitivity and a chronically inflamed right ovary that has a near-ridiculous affinity towards making functional cysts that are smaller than my pain levels indicate.).
I'll still have cyst problems with my ovaries, and there's no way to know exactly what all of my symptoms come from my failing gallbladder before surgery is done, but the bizarre pain parts of my symptoms finally have some plausible, tangible answers with a solution at hand. Within a few days, I'll have an appointment scheduled with a surgeon to determine when my gallbladder will be removed. Due to a family history of gallbladder's bursting, mine is to be removed to avoid that possible complication.
On another interesting side to this, we know now over two decades later why my dad's gallbladder seemingly went from totally normal to gangrenous overnight. (Back story from what I can recall--when I was really little, my dad went into an ER with horrible pains and was sent away. He soon went back in with the same symptoms and a very high fever. They decided to remove his gallbladder "electively," mostly to shut him up. Lo and behold, when they got inside of him they found his gallbladder was not only leaking, but it was gangrenous from leaking for such a long time. At some point, it burst. No one knew why or how it happened, but it baffled all doctors as he had no symptoms of gallstones prior to the event. His mother had her own gallbladder removed under similar circumstances, but hers never burst or developed gangrene.) My PCP thinks my dad's own gallbladder stopped working like mine and, over a period of years, damaged itself to the point of bursting. We're glad I didn't go that route, and my PCP and his office are operating assuming that they caught mine in time.
So, praise God! There's a light at the end of this tunnel!
Friday, December 5, 2014
Gallbladder, Round Two
My PCP ordered a HIDA scan to rule out gallbladder once and for all as the cause of many of my issues. I have to be at the hospital for it between 7:30 and 7:45 tomorrow morning. Time right now? 4:15 am...this is NOT the time to have insomnia, brain! And since I have to fast for this, I can't even down chamomile tea to knock me out.
*insert the loud sound of one Cherish's head hitting a desk in frustration*
This would be a significantly smaller problem if the HIDA scan was the ONLY thing I have to do tomorrow. I'm returning to work at noon, partaking in a long, oft-tiresome meeting, then going straight from work to help set up a company outreach event we do annually until late evening. That event will kick off on Saturday at 7:30 am. To say sleep deprivation isn't allowed for tomorrow would be an understatement, but I fear that's just the reality I'm facing.
...Maybe I have a copy of "Walden; or, Life in the Woods" from college...that always knocked me out back in my English major days.
(...no offense to you Walden lovers...I just am NOT one of them. I understand the greatness of Thoreau's work from a literary perspective and a cultural one, but I have no love of it personally.)
*insert the loud sound of one Cherish's head hitting a desk in frustration*
This would be a significantly smaller problem if the HIDA scan was the ONLY thing I have to do tomorrow. I'm returning to work at noon, partaking in a long, oft-tiresome meeting, then going straight from work to help set up a company outreach event we do annually until late evening. That event will kick off on Saturday at 7:30 am. To say sleep deprivation isn't allowed for tomorrow would be an understatement, but I fear that's just the reality I'm facing.
...Maybe I have a copy of "Walden; or, Life in the Woods" from college...that always knocked me out back in my English major days.
(...no offense to you Walden lovers...I just am NOT one of them. I understand the greatness of Thoreau's work from a literary perspective and a cultural one, but I have no love of it personally.)
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
The Battle of the Sweater Pattern (And a Blankie): Yarn-Along #6
Yesterday's pity party is over. I'm feeling pretty okay physically today, so we're focusing on that. Even though I'm still pretty frustrated overall, I've decided only one day's "Woe is Me" is allowed as I believe in getting those negative emotions out before they sour much more than your mood, but I also want to limit such nonsense. Done, handled, so time to move on! We've got too much knitting and crocheting to do before December 25th to be moping about unanswered questions!
Today's post will have two separate projects in it as I'm alternating between them. One is knit, and one is crochet. ...there's also a few books...I've been listing to a lot of audiobooks the past few weeks...and reading a ton of manga...
In my defense, I live about an hour and a half south-east of Buffalo. Yes, the Buffalo that got hammered this week with over FIVE FEET of snow in less than 48 hours. We got maybe an inch where I live (and even less where I work), but some of my friends closer to Buffalo (as well as my company's northern offices) are totally snowed in. Regardless, people in my area buckle down and prep whenever Buffalo gets hammered with lake-effect snow as my town is just barely outside Lake Erie's snow belt. My area can often get hit with whatever wasn't satisfied with burying Buffalo, and a few grocery stores in my area are running out of items as their shipments are tied up (...buried...) in Buffalo.
THE CRAFTS: I am making some serious headway on AB's Moroccan Tile Afghan. I'm more than halfway done at this point and still loving the pattern. The colorway is slowly, slowly growing on me. I'd liken it to a drier wine: it starts out punching you in the face, but you slowly warm up the flavors and the richness of its depths.
Or maybe it's brightness has just blinded me...I really can't tell anymore.
Either way, it's super warm and super soft, so it fits all the requirements my sister-in-law and I had for this project. Trying to get it done in the next week or two so I can blast out a similar one for AB's baby sister, E.
After my annual crafting/Christmas shopping trip with my mom November 7-9, I have started a very ambitious project for myself: a hand-knit cardigan. I'm a huge fan of wearing sweaters in colder weather, and I adore cardigans. The problem I find, though, is that I'm pretty limited at times to what kinds of cardigans I can buy and wear. I'm sensitive to wool (if I wear it, I itch terribly and sometimes get small patches of hives wherever it touches my skin), so I avoid that at all costs. I also sweat myself about through if I wear acrylics that are too densely woven. That leaves cotton at my disposal for my wardrobe in regards to hand-making cardigans.
Because I'm limited to synthetics or cottons, steeking a sweater could be a huge hassle. Steeking, for those unfamiliar to the term, means you knit a garment in the round, cut your knitting in a predetermined place, then secure your cut edges before knitting off of them. With wool yarns, the fibers of the yarn itself can often secure a steek beneath a crocheted edging or the picked up knitting. Cotton and synthetics are not that skilled, however. Steeks done in garments of such materials have to be machine-secured under at least one row--maybe two--of machine-sewn edges.
Now, I don't know about other knitters, but I am NOT brave enough to try that on a knitted garment I plan to wear to work. I had resigned myself to not knitting a cardigan anytime soon, until I found Knitty's Shapely Boyfriend pattern on Ravelry. Top-down construction (meaning no need to sew in sleeves) plus a back-and-forth construction (meaning no steeks to cut), all in a free pattern meant Cherish could NOT resist running for her KnitPicks interchangable cable needles.
The yarn is a cotton yarn I got at Hobby Lobby on sale during my trip. (I'm telling you, it was destined for me to make this sweater!) It's greyish-white with flecks of lime and plum throughout it. I absolutely adore how it's working up in the garment. I get some of my beloved variegated yarn action in a subtle, easy-to-wear effect. To tie it all together, I'm doing all ribbing on this pattern in plum yarn of the same brand and weight. I'm waiting to choose my buttons when the project is done, partially to ensure they'll fit just right and partially as I want to perfectly match them in style to the sweater's finished looks.
For anyone following this sweater on Ravelry, you know it's been...an adventure. I started it on 6s as I usually have to drop all projects I make down two sizes. Whelp, I forgot that is when I crochet projects, not knit them. My knitting gauge in this yarn, to my shock, was pretty darn spot-on to the recommended needles. I'm off by a row or two in stockinette, but that should be easily compensated for in the pattern. I err on the side of being a bit short-trunked when I try on clothes, so I figure I can cut down on or add rows of straight stockinette when the pattern calls for such sections to customize the fit to my body.
...I also had to cast on 19 separate times...at least...I quit counting my redos after 19 times of it happening... After that particular disaster (and having to very, very carefully count my rows to be sure I increased on time, I got smart. I took a trick I had read in various knitting help blogs about creating safe anchor points. I split some 4-ply yarn into two pieces of 2-ply and wove that through the last row of stitches before a major pattern change. That way, I know exactly where I tore back to without counting as those stitches won't unravel until the pink yarn is removed. When my sweater is done, I simply pull out all the pink parts. Cheapest insurance I've ever bought!
THE BOOK: As I alluded to in the beginning of this post, Book Country in CherLand has been a bit crazy. I was on vacation for a few days two weeks ago, so I had a ton of time to read to my little heart's content. Observe:
Today's post will have two separate projects in it as I'm alternating between them. One is knit, and one is crochet. ...there's also a few books...I've been listing to a lot of audiobooks the past few weeks...and reading a ton of manga...
In my defense, I live about an hour and a half south-east of Buffalo. Yes, the Buffalo that got hammered this week with over FIVE FEET of snow in less than 48 hours. We got maybe an inch where I live (and even less where I work), but some of my friends closer to Buffalo (as well as my company's northern offices) are totally snowed in. Regardless, people in my area buckle down and prep whenever Buffalo gets hammered with lake-effect snow as my town is just barely outside Lake Erie's snow belt. My area can often get hit with whatever wasn't satisfied with burying Buffalo, and a few grocery stores in my area are running out of items as their shipments are tied up (...buried...) in Buffalo.
THE CRAFTS: I am making some serious headway on AB's Moroccan Tile Afghan. I'm more than halfway done at this point and still loving the pattern. The colorway is slowly, slowly growing on me. I'd liken it to a drier wine: it starts out punching you in the face, but you slowly warm up the flavors and the richness of its depths.
Or maybe it's brightness has just blinded me...I really can't tell anymore.
Either way, it's super warm and super soft, so it fits all the requirements my sister-in-law and I had for this project. Trying to get it done in the next week or two so I can blast out a similar one for AB's baby sister, E.
After my annual crafting/Christmas shopping trip with my mom November 7-9, I have started a very ambitious project for myself: a hand-knit cardigan. I'm a huge fan of wearing sweaters in colder weather, and I adore cardigans. The problem I find, though, is that I'm pretty limited at times to what kinds of cardigans I can buy and wear. I'm sensitive to wool (if I wear it, I itch terribly and sometimes get small patches of hives wherever it touches my skin), so I avoid that at all costs. I also sweat myself about through if I wear acrylics that are too densely woven. That leaves cotton at my disposal for my wardrobe in regards to hand-making cardigans.
Because I'm limited to synthetics or cottons, steeking a sweater could be a huge hassle. Steeking, for those unfamiliar to the term, means you knit a garment in the round, cut your knitting in a predetermined place, then secure your cut edges before knitting off of them. With wool yarns, the fibers of the yarn itself can often secure a steek beneath a crocheted edging or the picked up knitting. Cotton and synthetics are not that skilled, however. Steeks done in garments of such materials have to be machine-secured under at least one row--maybe two--of machine-sewn edges.
Now, I don't know about other knitters, but I am NOT brave enough to try that on a knitted garment I plan to wear to work. I had resigned myself to not knitting a cardigan anytime soon, until I found Knitty's Shapely Boyfriend pattern on Ravelry. Top-down construction (meaning no need to sew in sleeves) plus a back-and-forth construction (meaning no steeks to cut), all in a free pattern meant Cherish could NOT resist running for her KnitPicks interchangable cable needles.
The yarn is a cotton yarn I got at Hobby Lobby on sale during my trip. (I'm telling you, it was destined for me to make this sweater!) It's greyish-white with flecks of lime and plum throughout it. I absolutely adore how it's working up in the garment. I get some of my beloved variegated yarn action in a subtle, easy-to-wear effect. To tie it all together, I'm doing all ribbing on this pattern in plum yarn of the same brand and weight. I'm waiting to choose my buttons when the project is done, partially to ensure they'll fit just right and partially as I want to perfectly match them in style to the sweater's finished looks.
For anyone following this sweater on Ravelry, you know it's been...an adventure. I started it on 6s as I usually have to drop all projects I make down two sizes. Whelp, I forgot that is when I crochet projects, not knit them. My knitting gauge in this yarn, to my shock, was pretty darn spot-on to the recommended needles. I'm off by a row or two in stockinette, but that should be easily compensated for in the pattern. I err on the side of being a bit short-trunked when I try on clothes, so I figure I can cut down on or add rows of straight stockinette when the pattern calls for such sections to customize the fit to my body.
...I also had to cast on 19 separate times...at least...I quit counting my redos after 19 times of it happening... After that particular disaster (and having to very, very carefully count my rows to be sure I increased on time, I got smart. I took a trick I had read in various knitting help blogs about creating safe anchor points. I split some 4-ply yarn into two pieces of 2-ply and wove that through the last row of stitches before a major pattern change. That way, I know exactly where I tore back to without counting as those stitches won't unravel until the pink yarn is removed. When my sweater is done, I simply pull out all the pink parts. Cheapest insurance I've ever bought!
THE BOOK: As I alluded to in the beginning of this post, Book Country in CherLand has been a bit crazy. I was on vacation for a few days two weeks ago, so I had a ton of time to read to my little heart's content. Observe:
- I finished The Help yesterday. I cannot even explain how much I enjoyed that book--it's definitely one of my all-time favorites!
- I'm also set to finish Insurgent tonight, the second in the Divergent trilogy. That book I like less than the first but am still enjoying it. I'll start its sequel, Allegiant, right afterwards...hoping that book is better.
- I hope to start listening to Leaving Time by Jodi Picoult tonight. She's one of my all-time favorite authors, so this, I hope, should be a good time. I really enjoyed its prequel novella, so hopefully it lives up to my expectations. **NOTE** I'm actually listening to The Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood, another favorite author, instead. I misread my emails: I'm on a hold list for Leaving Time but got The Year of the Flood.
- OH! I've also read most of the manga Fruits Basket (has 20-something volumes to it) over the past few weeks/months. It's a favorite of mine that I've never read completely. Luckily for me, the library where I tutor has a complete collection! I'm about 2/3 to 3/4 of the way through all of the volumes, which makes me quite happy!
Check out the other Yarn Along pages!
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Nevermind
Gallbladder was 100% normal. Pain isn't "typical" of endometriosis.
So, once again, I'm sent off with no answers or any hope of answers. I should know better than to expect anything more than that.
So, once again, I'm sent off with no answers or any hope of answers. I should know better than to expect anything more than that.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Hoping for Spoons
As mentioned in my previous post, I have unexplained pain issues that flare from time-to-time. I've been doing way better in recent months, but my pains still flare up more than my husband and I would like. My gynecologist recommended I bring up my findings from a diagnostic laparoscopy done in August 2013 to any doctors I see, partially as she can't figure out if I have endometriosis or something else. As my moving last year meant I (finally) changed my primary care physician (PCP), I mentioned them to the new PCP, Dr. T., on Monday.
I don't want to go into details just yet, but I'm being sent for a very routine test this Saturday to determine a course of treatment. Dr. T. thinks my previous surgery's results have a glaring clue my previous PCP should have spotted. If Dr. T, is right, 90% of my symptoms can be explained by one medical condition--one that a single laparoscopic surgery would cure. My husband and I are kind of hoping I do, indeed, have this condition. Endometriosis is a lifetime struggle; this other condition is a surgery-and-mostly-cured kind of thing. We like the latter's prognosis a lot more.
If I do end up needing surgery, I plan to schedule it as close to the Christmas break at my job as possible. That'd put the least amount of strain on my coworkers and also give me 3 solid weeks to recover. I'd be good as new by the time work started up, though I'd be pretty floppy over Christmas itself. Considering I had full blown shingles two Christmases ago, I'm sure I can handle that. My husband is 100% supportive of whatever the results show, as is my family and his. If I end up needing the surgery, I'm in good company--many family members in his family and mine have had it done.
So, as strange as this sounds, pray the test on Saturday shows I need surgery. I'll explain more when I have the results.
I don't want to go into details just yet, but I'm being sent for a very routine test this Saturday to determine a course of treatment. Dr. T. thinks my previous surgery's results have a glaring clue my previous PCP should have spotted. If Dr. T, is right, 90% of my symptoms can be explained by one medical condition--one that a single laparoscopic surgery would cure. My husband and I are kind of hoping I do, indeed, have this condition. Endometriosis is a lifetime struggle; this other condition is a surgery-and-mostly-cured kind of thing. We like the latter's prognosis a lot more.
If I do end up needing surgery, I plan to schedule it as close to the Christmas break at my job as possible. That'd put the least amount of strain on my coworkers and also give me 3 solid weeks to recover. I'd be good as new by the time work started up, though I'd be pretty floppy over Christmas itself. Considering I had full blown shingles two Christmases ago, I'm sure I can handle that. My husband is 100% supportive of whatever the results show, as is my family and his. If I end up needing the surgery, I'm in good company--many family members in his family and mine have had it done.
So, as strange as this sounds, pray the test on Saturday shows I need surgery. I'll explain more when I have the results.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Spoons...I Have a Distinct Lack of Them...
A few weeks ago, I had one of those days, seemingly from the moment I got up. When I got up, I was doing pretty okay. That's pretty good for me, to be honest: there are some days when I'm lucky to be up and moving. Y'see, doctors think (but "cannot diagnose at this time") that I have endometriosis. In my case, I get wicked pelvic and abdominal pain that nothing--not even maximum doses of ibuprofen or twice-a-day doses of Aleve--touches. I could literally feel the pain before I fully woke up, and I would still feel it as I descended into sleep at night. This went on for well over a year before even one doctor took me seriously.
As of about a year ago, I'm on a newish-to-me medication called norethindrone that, for the most part, is controlling most of my symptoms; I also found that limiting my caffeine helps keep some of the flare-ups at bay. However, I still get random, horrible flare-ups of my symptoms from time to time, and often I can't find a trigger that led to said issue.
A few weeks ago, it was one of those days.
I woke up with my entire pelvic cavity spasming. Think of muscle (or, if you're a woman like me, period) cramps, but make them take over your entire lower pelvis and make them borderline unbearable. I also feel like I've got golf balls inside of my pelvis, one on each side but away from my actual hip joints. Once I was fully awake, I quickly realized I had dull aches under my ribs on the right side and my entire abdomen was cramping. My lower back is also cramped up...okay, no, my entire back. These pains kicked in early the day before, and they'd been coming and going. Advil and Aleve are my usual stand-bys for this mess: I take Advil if they're on the milder side and Aleve for longer lasting and/or tougher flare-ups. That day was one where I counted down the minutes until I could take another 12-hour dose of Aleve, which was just barely taking the edge off my pain.
On days like those, I refer back to what a past student taught me once. It's called The Spoon Theory, and it is mean to explain life with chronic pain and/or illness to those who don't have such challenges. Basically, everyone wakes up every day with a set amount of spoons. Those spoons have to last you the entire day as you cannot obtain anymore for the day, though you can bank spare ones from the previous day. This is normally a very easy thing to do as many of our daily tasks take no effort (and, therefore, no spoons). Those with chronic pain or illness, however, have to use their spoons for even the most basic of tasks (like getting dressed, using the bathroom, or [in my case on exceptionally bad days] even the mere attempt of getting into their car to prepare to drive to work). As a result, their spoons run out faster, and their choices for how their day will go are limited; these people also have to bank spoons at the end of each day as running out may prove to make the next few days impossible for them as they never know how many spoons will be consumed by their conditions.
In my case, I find myself in a strange game of "Can I make it through work or not?" when I have particularly bad flare-ups. Sitting up in bed--not even getting out of my bed--will take a spoon on those days as that involves bending from the waist. The drive to work could take three alone (sitting in car and putting the seatbelt across my lap, the drive itself, and getting out of the car), nevertheless the drive home that afternoon. I also cannot even begin to estimate how many spoons my teaching job could take as I never know how many times I have to move from sitting to standing and back in a day or if I'll have the energy to avoid sitting by standing all day long. It is a very, very rare day when I can't make it through work, but often I come home too exhausted to do anything but face-plant into the couch. I normally overuse spoons on my first day of a flare-up making some massive meal my husband and I can reheat for a few days--just to be sure we're both still eating okay.
Despite the pain and the effort ignoring it can take, I'm stubborn enough to go on without people knowing what's happening inside of me. Often, the only clues people will be able to spot may be a shorter-than-normal temper or a determination to not have to get up out of my chair more than usual. I carry around a rice bag--essentially, a cloth bag full of rice I heat to work like a heating pad--everywhere I go on terrible days; often, it's my best source of pain relief. I never bring up why it's with me (even on 90+ degree Fahrenheit days), simply electing to use it when I need it so I can make it through my day. My students, however, have learned that rice bag, if it doesn't leave my lap, means I'm having a bad day.
Days like those remind me of what I do and why I'm passionate about adult education. Some of my students are what society considers the worst of the worst: it views them as drains on our resources and useless, selfish people. However, if I show up at work with my rice bag or if they catch me quickly taking medication between classes, a few of my students step up to the plate. They go out of their way to not make me get out of my seat in class, bringing questions to me or doubling their efforts to help each other. They never come right out and tell each other that I'm in pain: instead, they find little, meaningful ways to help me out without making me feel like a sick, weak problem. When I came back from a diagnostic surgery last summer, students literally wouldn't even let me carry a binder for weeks. One of them always went and got the binder I needed off the shelf and had it on my table, ready for class. Another would meet me at my office door to carry the books I needed to our classroom. A third would walk the sign-in sheet around or bring any papers students finished right to me.
All of these are little things they don't have to do, that no one asked them to do, yet they still took the initiative. Yes, some of these students have done some pretty horrible things in their pasts. Others may simply be in the trenches of generational poverty and, sadly, cannot see a life for themselves past the one that they already know and that society routinely (and openly) despises. Irregardless, they are deserving of respect as fellow people, just as we would want to be treated with respect.
So remember that you can't tell at a glance just what a person is going through. Teachers (and people) like me may seem like we have it all together but may be literally screaming inside. People who look rough may suffer in ways they can never describe. Lend respect and love to all you can, and own up when you have a rough day.
And give yourself some forgiveness for when you screw up. We all do.
As of about a year ago, I'm on a newish-to-me medication called norethindrone that, for the most part, is controlling most of my symptoms; I also found that limiting my caffeine helps keep some of the flare-ups at bay. However, I still get random, horrible flare-ups of my symptoms from time to time, and often I can't find a trigger that led to said issue.
A few weeks ago, it was one of those days.
I woke up with my entire pelvic cavity spasming. Think of muscle (or, if you're a woman like me, period) cramps, but make them take over your entire lower pelvis and make them borderline unbearable. I also feel like I've got golf balls inside of my pelvis, one on each side but away from my actual hip joints. Once I was fully awake, I quickly realized I had dull aches under my ribs on the right side and my entire abdomen was cramping. My lower back is also cramped up...okay, no, my entire back. These pains kicked in early the day before, and they'd been coming and going. Advil and Aleve are my usual stand-bys for this mess: I take Advil if they're on the milder side and Aleve for longer lasting and/or tougher flare-ups. That day was one where I counted down the minutes until I could take another 12-hour dose of Aleve, which was just barely taking the edge off my pain.
On days like those, I refer back to what a past student taught me once. It's called The Spoon Theory, and it is mean to explain life with chronic pain and/or illness to those who don't have such challenges. Basically, everyone wakes up every day with a set amount of spoons. Those spoons have to last you the entire day as you cannot obtain anymore for the day, though you can bank spare ones from the previous day. This is normally a very easy thing to do as many of our daily tasks take no effort (and, therefore, no spoons). Those with chronic pain or illness, however, have to use their spoons for even the most basic of tasks (like getting dressed, using the bathroom, or [in my case on exceptionally bad days] even the mere attempt of getting into their car to prepare to drive to work). As a result, their spoons run out faster, and their choices for how their day will go are limited; these people also have to bank spoons at the end of each day as running out may prove to make the next few days impossible for them as they never know how many spoons will be consumed by their conditions.
In my case, I find myself in a strange game of "Can I make it through work or not?" when I have particularly bad flare-ups. Sitting up in bed--not even getting out of my bed--will take a spoon on those days as that involves bending from the waist. The drive to work could take three alone (sitting in car and putting the seatbelt across my lap, the drive itself, and getting out of the car), nevertheless the drive home that afternoon. I also cannot even begin to estimate how many spoons my teaching job could take as I never know how many times I have to move from sitting to standing and back in a day or if I'll have the energy to avoid sitting by standing all day long. It is a very, very rare day when I can't make it through work, but often I come home too exhausted to do anything but face-plant into the couch. I normally overuse spoons on my first day of a flare-up making some massive meal my husband and I can reheat for a few days--just to be sure we're both still eating okay.
Despite the pain and the effort ignoring it can take, I'm stubborn enough to go on without people knowing what's happening inside of me. Often, the only clues people will be able to spot may be a shorter-than-normal temper or a determination to not have to get up out of my chair more than usual. I carry around a rice bag--essentially, a cloth bag full of rice I heat to work like a heating pad--everywhere I go on terrible days; often, it's my best source of pain relief. I never bring up why it's with me (even on 90+ degree Fahrenheit days), simply electing to use it when I need it so I can make it through my day. My students, however, have learned that rice bag, if it doesn't leave my lap, means I'm having a bad day.
Days like those remind me of what I do and why I'm passionate about adult education. Some of my students are what society considers the worst of the worst: it views them as drains on our resources and useless, selfish people. However, if I show up at work with my rice bag or if they catch me quickly taking medication between classes, a few of my students step up to the plate. They go out of their way to not make me get out of my seat in class, bringing questions to me or doubling their efforts to help each other. They never come right out and tell each other that I'm in pain: instead, they find little, meaningful ways to help me out without making me feel like a sick, weak problem. When I came back from a diagnostic surgery last summer, students literally wouldn't even let me carry a binder for weeks. One of them always went and got the binder I needed off the shelf and had it on my table, ready for class. Another would meet me at my office door to carry the books I needed to our classroom. A third would walk the sign-in sheet around or bring any papers students finished right to me.
All of these are little things they don't have to do, that no one asked them to do, yet they still took the initiative. Yes, some of these students have done some pretty horrible things in their pasts. Others may simply be in the trenches of generational poverty and, sadly, cannot see a life for themselves past the one that they already know and that society routinely (and openly) despises. Irregardless, they are deserving of respect as fellow people, just as we would want to be treated with respect.
So remember that you can't tell at a glance just what a person is going through. Teachers (and people) like me may seem like we have it all together but may be literally screaming inside. People who look rough may suffer in ways they can never describe. Lend respect and love to all you can, and own up when you have a rough day.
And give yourself some forgiveness for when you screw up. We all do.
Monday, October 20, 2014
Yarn Along #5: Christmas Crafting Begins!
Well, many days late is better than never! Our week was crazy busy, but not for any bad reasons! (Woot, woot!) I was able to spend some time with my one younger brother and his wife and dog on Tuesday, drinking coffee and shooting the breeze with my little sister-in-love. I was, however, able to get some reading done, as well as some crocheting!
I should also note that at my workplace, I have started a crafting class for my students on a "As-You-Want" basis. Those who want to learn to knit or crochet can come to a set room over Friday's lunch with whatever supplies they have or just their curiosity. If they have projects they want to share, they can. If they need lessons, I and other students instruct. Regardless, they are met with openness and joy for crafting. Many of my students were asking for stress relievers, so I'm hoping this proves to be an enjoyable one for them. If they hate crafting, they can opt out; they can also come and go as they need/want.
After blasting out the minion, I decided to switch to a simple blanket project, one I need done by Christmas for one of my sweet, little nieces. All I'm going to say about the colors is this: they were directly requested by a 5-year-old girl. Enough said.
THE CRAFT: This week's craft is a Moroccan Tile Afghan for my oldest niece, AB. When I saw this pattern, it screamed AB. I filed it away in my Ravely queue for her, sure she'd want one eventually. I was right, and she had a few very specific requests, which I will quote directly as, honestly, it was too darn cute to paraphrase:
I should also note that at my workplace, I have started a crafting class for my students on a "As-You-Want" basis. Those who want to learn to knit or crochet can come to a set room over Friday's lunch with whatever supplies they have or just their curiosity. If they have projects they want to share, they can. If they need lessons, I and other students instruct. Regardless, they are met with openness and joy for crafting. Many of my students were asking for stress relievers, so I'm hoping this proves to be an enjoyable one for them. If they hate crafting, they can opt out; they can also come and go as they need/want.
After blasting out the minion, I decided to switch to a simple blanket project, one I need done by Christmas for one of my sweet, little nieces. All I'm going to say about the colors is this: they were directly requested by a 5-year-old girl. Enough said.
THE CRAFT: This week's craft is a Moroccan Tile Afghan for my oldest niece, AB. When I saw this pattern, it screamed AB. I filed it away in my Ravely queue for her, sure she'd want one eventually. I was right, and she had a few very specific requests, which I will quote directly as, honestly, it was too darn cute to paraphrase:
AB: Aunt Cherish! If E is getting her own blankie, I should get one too! That's fair, right?
Cherish: I didn't know you wanted a blankie, but if you want one, I'll totally make you one for Christmas. What colors do you want?
AB: It has to be pink and purple and blue and shiny and squishy and soft and mine, Cherish! You can make that, right?
Cherish: *winks* I'm pretty sure that doable, sweetie.
Using that delightful conversation and what I know of her tastes, I picked 6 colors that would fit her bill in Caron's Simply Soft yarn, which was deemed by my mother-in-law and aunt-in-law as "Absolutely, 100% AB." Hence the insanely bright blanket you're seeing up there. I've yet to add in much of the pale pink and any of the lavender/lilac shades that I picked, though the lilac should happen sometime tonight if I keep making good progress. The pattern called for 30 rows of each color, but I elected to do two sets of 16. If I have enough yarn and want to, I may extend it out to three sets of 16. The picture above is of about 51-52 rows of the pattern out of ~193 total rows. Since that picture was taken, I'm up to about 55-56 rows.
The pattern is very easy. You work across color B (making v-stitches: DC CH DC) in the Vs of the color A's previous row. Securing the active loop of B with a stitch marker (...or a paperclip...), you pick up the active loop of A (still on the right of the project) and work across, going between the Color A Vs and securing both the previous row's space between V stitches and the space between the Color B Vs in your next V-stitch cluster. When both colors' active loops are secured on the left side, you flip the blanket and repeat. There are some unique (and optional) stitches to start rows and change colors, but the pattern's original website has links to some great videos that make it very easy to understand and master these stitches.
THE BOOK: I finished Dreams of Joy this past week, the sequel to Shanghai Girls. I enjoyed it more than the previous book in some ways, yet disliked it more in others. Not really sure what I thought. My dislike may have come from one protagonist, Joy, who I often wanted to just slap upside the head a few times over. Girlfriend's naivety drove me BANANAS. Seriously, who steals her mother's money, flees to China, then marries a guy she's known like 3 months, all to not understand at first why it all went so totally sour during the famine. I just: gah! My teachers in elementary school often told me I had "little tolerance for the perceived stupidity of others"; though I am way better at that nowadays, that little trait of mine came flying out during many of Joy's parts. I just wanted to slap her and drag her stubborn butt onto the first boat back to LA.
I'm now working through Orange is the New Black: My Year in a Women's Prison by Piper Kerman. I'm enjoying the story, though I do have to agree with some critiques stating that the author paints herself with a whitewash-coated-brush through a fair deal of the memoir. I dunno: I guess I just assume that anyone chronicling a story of their life will instinctively try to paint themselves in a believable-yet-positive light, so I don't notice it as strongly as others. Still a good read, though!
The pattern is very easy. You work across color B (making v-stitches: DC CH DC) in the Vs of the color A's previous row. Securing the active loop of B with a stitch marker (...or a paperclip...), you pick up the active loop of A (still on the right of the project) and work across, going between the Color A Vs and securing both the previous row's space between V stitches and the space between the Color B Vs in your next V-stitch cluster. When both colors' active loops are secured on the left side, you flip the blanket and repeat. There are some unique (and optional) stitches to start rows and change colors, but the pattern's original website has links to some great videos that make it very easy to understand and master these stitches.
THE BOOK: I finished Dreams of Joy this past week, the sequel to Shanghai Girls. I enjoyed it more than the previous book in some ways, yet disliked it more in others. Not really sure what I thought. My dislike may have come from one protagonist, Joy, who I often wanted to just slap upside the head a few times over. Girlfriend's naivety drove me BANANAS. Seriously, who steals her mother's money, flees to China, then marries a guy she's known like 3 months, all to not understand at first why it all went so totally sour during the famine. I just: gah! My teachers in elementary school often told me I had "little tolerance for the perceived stupidity of others"; though I am way better at that nowadays, that little trait of mine came flying out during many of Joy's parts. I just wanted to slap her and drag her stubborn butt onto the first boat back to LA.
I'm now working through Orange is the New Black: My Year in a Women's Prison by Piper Kerman. I'm enjoying the story, though I do have to agree with some critiques stating that the author paints herself with a whitewash-coated-brush through a fair deal of the memoir. I dunno: I guess I just assume that anyone chronicling a story of their life will instinctively try to paint themselves in a believable-yet-positive light, so I don't notice it as strongly as others. Still a good read, though!
Check out the other Yarn Along pages!
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Yarn Along #4: Attack of the Minion
I'm not even going to pretend things have calmed down out our way. It seems like as soon as one mini-crisis ends, another two pop up. Right now, we're just trying to keep on top of a sick in-law of mine, balance work and our lives, and figure out who tried to steal my identity locally last week. >_< Here's praying that next week is calmer!
This time I have A FINISHED PRODUCT! And a finished book! That is scary stuff right there!
THE CRAFT: In the past two weeks, I blasted out a little project for a sick little boy. (I also found our digital camera, so we have half decent pictures!) It's a little Despicable Me Minion.
This project was a bit of a comedy of errors for me. The arms I redid no less than 4 times last night, mostly as I 1) Lost count on the hands, 2) Couldn't find the saved inside loops to start the arms, or 3) I forgot to increase all the way around when starting the arms. It was, to say the least, an embarrassing sight to behold: a beleaguered, veteran crocheter mad over twelve rounds of yellow yarn done twice. We could have hired mourners.
I also took what I called (at first) The Lazy Route as I chose to only make one eye. This involved modifying the pattern for both the eye and the goggle rims, both of which turned out to be a bit more complicated than I thought. For starters, I could not for the life of me close the center of the eye's magic loop without risking a yarn tear. To compensate, I tried to put black felt on the center to make a pupil like the pattern said. No dice: it looked funny sitting on top, but sewing it into the center of the eye just didn't pop the way I wanted.
A moment of inspiration hit when I went to get my straight pins to assemble this little guy. Inside my pin case was a random round, black button I had left over from a Pikachu plushie I crocheted a few years ago. On a whim, I tried pinning that button into the center of the eye. It was a perfect fit! The base of the button fit perfectly into the eye's hole, and the button gave the eye the pop I was looking for. I'm pretty sure I literally cheered.
Despite a few moment of wanting to fling this minion across the room in frustration (and a surely amusing scene while I tried to whip-stitch a "pouty lip" onto what looked like a yellow hotdog with an eyeball), it all worked out in the end: he turned out better than I expected and on time to be sent in the care package! Feel better soon, Brett, and I hope this little guy is a bright spot in your days in the hospital!
THE BOOK: A month later, and I'm still on The 19th Wife. I did, however, finish another audio book during that time: Shanghai Girls by Lisa See. The book followed two fictional sisters in China for twenty years of their lives as they fled China, were forced into arranged marriages, raise a daughter, and learned about themselves and their relationships. The book wonderfully illustrated the relationship siblings have, both the positives and the negatives. I'm the middle of 5 kids, though my two older siblings are much, much older than me; as a result, I grew up like an oldest child. I very much related with Pearl's struggles to be the kind of older sister May both wanted and needed, and I also sympathized and mourned for Pearl when she learned how those things can sometimes be total opposites.
This time I have A FINISHED PRODUCT! And a finished book! That is scary stuff right there!
THE CRAFT: In the past two weeks, I blasted out a little project for a sick little boy. (I also found our digital camera, so we have half decent pictures!) It's a little Despicable Me Minion.
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| *singing* These arms are made for cuddling! |
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| Well, at least he gives me two thumbs up! |
I also took what I called (at first) The Lazy Route as I chose to only make one eye. This involved modifying the pattern for both the eye and the goggle rims, both of which turned out to be a bit more complicated than I thought. For starters, I could not for the life of me close the center of the eye's magic loop without risking a yarn tear. To compensate, I tried to put black felt on the center to make a pupil like the pattern said. No dice: it looked funny sitting on top, but sewing it into the center of the eye just didn't pop the way I wanted.
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| My felt-work for the details also finally improved! |
A moment of inspiration hit when I went to get my straight pins to assemble this little guy. Inside my pin case was a random round, black button I had left over from a Pikachu plushie I crocheted a few years ago. On a whim, I tried pinning that button into the center of the eye. It was a perfect fit! The base of the button fit perfectly into the eye's hole, and the button gave the eye the pop I was looking for. I'm pretty sure I literally cheered.
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| Little Minion sees all! |
THE BOOK: A month later, and I'm still on The 19th Wife. I did, however, finish another audio book during that time: Shanghai Girls by Lisa See. The book followed two fictional sisters in China for twenty years of their lives as they fled China, were forced into arranged marriages, raise a daughter, and learned about themselves and their relationships. The book wonderfully illustrated the relationship siblings have, both the positives and the negatives. I'm the middle of 5 kids, though my two older siblings are much, much older than me; as a result, I grew up like an oldest child. I very much related with Pearl's struggles to be the kind of older sister May both wanted and needed, and I also sympathized and mourned for Pearl when she learned how those things can sometimes be total opposites.
Check out the other Yarn Along pages!
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Yarn Along #3: Light At the End of the T-Shirt
Another week without a proper post: hopefully things turn around in that regard. It's still been crazy around my house. Dad's home from his hip replacement and healing nicely, and my hubby and I have been fielding help requests and been requesting updates. Seems like he's feeling way better than he did before surgery, so YAY!
I didn't get to finish the shirt this weekend like I hoped, so you get another week of looking at it! Aren't you guys just so excited?
THE CRAFT: Round #3 of AB's Playground Shirt is upon us, but we're so very, very close to completion.
This is where we stand right now. Magic Loop is still working well for me for those sleeves, and I'm getting pretty antsy to start the collar. I'm thinking I'm going to make it that grape-purple like the edging I've done, mostly to break up the rows up on rows of variegation.
I'm loving how it finishes off the sleeves, though! I edged it (and the bottom) in a single crochet; I also used a single crochet bind-off as that's the one I'm most comfortable with. I like the feel it gives to the sleeves: it reminds me a bit of the hem on the edges of other sleeves.
...I also just like crocheting...a lot...
Though I still love the edging on the end of the shirt, I'm not completely sold on it. My big beef with this is how much the bottom rolls from the stockinette, even with the single crochet row. Now, I know I can do garter stitch rows to help tame this. However, I despise garter row edging for a whole slew of purely-aesthetic reasons, and I didn't think ribbing would look okay with the rest of the shirt. I also worry how this acrylic yarn will block. I really fear it's not going to tame that roll near as much as, say, a cotton or a woolen garment blocked would.
I'm considering doing another row of single crochet across the bottom, going in the opposite direction of the first, to see if that stabilizes it; it's also to help match the sleeves, whose purple borders are a row longer due to a brain-fart. Thoughts? Should I be this concerned? Will the rolling be way less noticeable when AB wears it?
THE BOOK: We're also still reading The 19th Wife. I've only gotten a few more pages into it since I wrote about it last, so I don't have much to offer there. Though I hate history in general, I'm love Ann Eliza's accounts of her past and how the author intersperses historical documents into his narrative. I'm really enjoying it more than I thought!
I didn't get to finish the shirt this weekend like I hoped, so you get another week of looking at it! Aren't you guys just so excited?
THE CRAFT: Round #3 of AB's Playground Shirt is upon us, but we're so very, very close to completion.
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| Current Progress on the Shirt |
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| Completed Sleeve (...and my rings...) |
...I also just like crocheting...a lot...
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| Bottom Edging: When Not Rolled |
I'm considering doing another row of single crochet across the bottom, going in the opposite direction of the first, to see if that stabilizes it; it's also to help match the sleeves, whose purple borders are a row longer due to a brain-fart. Thoughts? Should I be this concerned? Will the rolling be way less noticeable when AB wears it?
THE BOOK: We're also still reading The 19th Wife. I've only gotten a few more pages into it since I wrote about it last, so I don't have much to offer there. Though I hate history in general, I'm love Ann Eliza's accounts of her past and how the author intersperses historical documents into his narrative. I'm really enjoying it more than I thought!
Check out the other Yarn Along pages!
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Yarn-Along #2: More Shirt & Two Books!
(Forgive the late post--long week)
Well, this week has proven to be just as crazy as other weeks, with a bit more spice added in for good measure. My father had a hip replaced yesterday, and I'm second tier on-call for my paternal grandmother's medical alert necklace. (For those who are unfamiliar with that technology, Grandma wears a necklace around her neck that she can push to reach on-call nurses. If it's pushed and it's deemed not on accident, a family member is also called. Dad is first on that line, followed by me [as I, out of the three local grandkids, can get away from work the easiest to help Grandma.]) Long story short, I'm bebopping between home, work, and the hospital where Dad's recovering and praying Grandma (who has dementia and is freaking out over Dad's surgery) doesn't have a spell of some kind.
My dad also had some complications yesterday involving his blood pressure, so I literally forgot to post this at all. Dad's stable now and improving, which helps, but I hadn't slept worth beans for two solid days. Last night became "Cherish crashed after dinner and never woke up again until her alarm went off." Today also has me bearing a killer headache, so please forgive any crazy grammar errors. I will re-proof this at a later date.
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| Ended up a bit blurry as I was working out lighting issues in our computer room; this is the best shot I got. |
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| One Sleeve done; blocked to test out borders' rolling issues. |
**Later Edit** Sleeve worked out, clearly: on to sleeve two!
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| I hate that scrap of yarn's color...at least it's great for scraps! |
The other book I'm reading right now is The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff. This story is weaving together the tales of a gay son of a convicted-of-murder 19th wife in 21st century Utah and Ann Eliza Young, a 19th wife who broke away from her polygamist cult and her husband. A friend of mine recommended this book (and lent it to me), and I'm finally getting into the story. It's a much slower read than some of the other books I've picked up, mostly as I can't exactly knit my shirt and read at the same time...and I've been determined to finish the shirt the past few days.
Friday, August 8, 2014
Wee!
As I mentioned yesterday, my day started with a bit of a tumble. (Or, as I started referring to it today, "Cherish's Attempt to Determine Why Humans Themselves Cannot Fly Down Driveways.") I am not-so-pleased to say that I am officially feeling my flight attempt. I am also less-than-pleased to say that my flight attempt bears no cool images.
THAT, dear readers, is yesterday's battle wound. That little patch of red on my leg. THAT IS IT. For something that feels like the result of a demented troll with a hot iron launching a holy war against my leg every single time it touches something (re: all the time), this little 3 inch by 3 inch wound is a pathetic attempt at a battle scar. It almost makes me ashamed to admit how bad it hurts.
...almost...
But on the advice of my sister (...also, if you found my blog, M: HI SISSY!), I am recapping my adventure here in more detail.
...nope...we beat no dead horses in this blog... *shifty eyes*
Anyways, our landlord notified all of us tenants on Tuesday that he was having our building's driveway sealed during the day on Thursday. We tenants had to move all the cars to the street. Neither Hubster or I minded doing this, but it was a little complicated in our case. Y'see, my husband had a jeep he drove up until a few months ago, when it was given a nice little death sentence by the DMV in the form of failing inspection for a total of repairs worth more than it was. It's been sitting in our driveway ever since, staring longingly at the functional cars we have while we attempt to figure out its fate. We can't put it on the road, even to park overnight, without risk of ticket as it's unregistered and uninsured. Landlord told us to put it in the yard, so no sweat.
Yesterday morning, though, found me in a rush as I couldn't find my sunglasses. Readers, I have (mostly latent) strabismus and drive East in the morning and West in the evening on my daily work commute. We call this, "Cherish cannot see the road well because her left eye doesn't get that turning away from the sun is kind of important" in Cher-Land. My sunglasses are a requirement as far as I am concerned, and after three days of rain finally breaking, I wanted to be able to see to drive. (Because, y'know, it's the important things.) Hubster confirmed my suspicions: I left them in his car after the weekend's adventures. He needed me to move Tony the Super Impala, though, so he could move the Jeep before he went to work. I did indeed move one Tony, then decided to just go get my sunglasses from his Focus while he was moving the Jeep. Cherish, being Cherish, decided running there was a good idea.
Never mind that I was wearing pretty wedge heels.
Never mind that our driveway is a bit uneven, with cracks here and there, and on a subtle downward slope.
Never mind that I have the grace of a drunken animal walking on a boat in the middle of an angry sea.
Nope, one Cherish decided she was running. Her right heeled shoe, however, had other ideas. Specifically, it wanted nothing to do with this endeavor and, instead, wanted to hang out on the asphalt. Alone. Cherish, as a result, was somehow catapulted through the air to skid to a not-so-pretty landing in the driveway. Hence the aforementioned pathetic scrape of evilness.
Angry that I biffed it, I stomped back for my shoe, put it firmly in its place, and stomped its sorry sole the entire way down the driveway and back, sunglasses in tow on the return trip. Hubster realized when I came back that "fell," this time, meant "Cherish decided to make an airborne attempt at spanning the driveway and, as a result, has permanently embedded some genetic material into the asphalt's surface." (Aside: you know you're an accident prone person when you have to stress to your husband that this was a different kind of fall, as in it involved blood and pain and a blatant loss of even more dignity.) Realizing I was probably late to work, I just rinsed the scrape, determined to clean it out when I got to work with my first aid kit.
And now, the new part of the story. When I opened my first aid kit at work, I found a surprise:
Ladies and gentlemen, I lost my prescription of Patanol when I moved last November. Patanol, for those who don't know me in person, is a prescription eye-drop I use for exactly two months in the spring when my allergies raise a righteous fury upon my body: in layman's terms, it keeps me from clawing my eyes out. My insurance (which changed from the last time I filled it--YAY health insurance reform) absolutely refused to fill the prescription as they deemed it "not medically necessary" though my doctor had been ordering this exact same script for me for TEN SOLID YEARS and the insurance company knew me for, oh, 4 months. (Another aside: I am told my phone call with that particular company was especially epic as I went all debate champion all over them...I don't take being screwed over well).
That picture? The one right up there? My lost prescription. Good until next year. And about three months too late to help me.
Apparently, I keep my medicine in a first aid kit now. >_<
So, yeah, yesterday can take a flying leap off a tall cliff for all I care. I'm kind of done with it.
...or, y'know a flying tumble down a driveway...I have it on good authority that those hurt terribly when you're over the age of seven.
 |
| Yes, another terrible camera phone shot. You're welcome. |
THAT, dear readers, is yesterday's battle wound. That little patch of red on my leg. THAT IS IT. For something that feels like the result of a demented troll with a hot iron launching a holy war against my leg every single time it touches something (re: all the time), this little 3 inch by 3 inch wound is a pathetic attempt at a battle scar. It almost makes me ashamed to admit how bad it hurts.
...almost...
But on the advice of my sister (...also, if you found my blog, M: HI SISSY!), I am recapping my adventure here in more detail.
...nope...we beat no dead horses in this blog... *shifty eyes*
Anyways, our landlord notified all of us tenants on Tuesday that he was having our building's driveway sealed during the day on Thursday. We tenants had to move all the cars to the street. Neither Hubster or I minded doing this, but it was a little complicated in our case. Y'see, my husband had a jeep he drove up until a few months ago, when it was given a nice little death sentence by the DMV in the form of failing inspection for a total of repairs worth more than it was. It's been sitting in our driveway ever since, staring longingly at the functional cars we have while we attempt to figure out its fate. We can't put it on the road, even to park overnight, without risk of ticket as it's unregistered and uninsured. Landlord told us to put it in the yard, so no sweat.
Yesterday morning, though, found me in a rush as I couldn't find my sunglasses. Readers, I have (mostly latent) strabismus and drive East in the morning and West in the evening on my daily work commute. We call this, "Cherish cannot see the road well because her left eye doesn't get that turning away from the sun is kind of important" in Cher-Land. My sunglasses are a requirement as far as I am concerned, and after three days of rain finally breaking, I wanted to be able to see to drive. (Because, y'know, it's the important things.) Hubster confirmed my suspicions: I left them in his car after the weekend's adventures. He needed me to move Tony the Super Impala, though, so he could move the Jeep before he went to work. I did indeed move one Tony, then decided to just go get my sunglasses from his Focus while he was moving the Jeep. Cherish, being Cherish, decided running there was a good idea.
Never mind that I was wearing pretty wedge heels.
Never mind that our driveway is a bit uneven, with cracks here and there, and on a subtle downward slope.
Never mind that I have the grace of a drunken animal walking on a boat in the middle of an angry sea.
Nope, one Cherish decided she was running. Her right heeled shoe, however, had other ideas. Specifically, it wanted nothing to do with this endeavor and, instead, wanted to hang out on the asphalt. Alone. Cherish, as a result, was somehow catapulted through the air to skid to a not-so-pretty landing in the driveway. Hence the aforementioned pathetic scrape of evilness.
Angry that I biffed it, I stomped back for my shoe, put it firmly in its place, and stomped its sorry sole the entire way down the driveway and back, sunglasses in tow on the return trip. Hubster realized when I came back that "fell," this time, meant "Cherish decided to make an airborne attempt at spanning the driveway and, as a result, has permanently embedded some genetic material into the asphalt's surface." (Aside: you know you're an accident prone person when you have to stress to your husband that this was a different kind of fall, as in it involved blood and pain and a blatant loss of even more dignity.) Realizing I was probably late to work, I just rinsed the scrape, determined to clean it out when I got to work with my first aid kit.
And now, the new part of the story. When I opened my first aid kit at work, I found a surprise:
 |
| Look--an even blurrier picture! |
Ladies and gentlemen, I lost my prescription of Patanol when I moved last November. Patanol, for those who don't know me in person, is a prescription eye-drop I use for exactly two months in the spring when my allergies raise a righteous fury upon my body: in layman's terms, it keeps me from clawing my eyes out. My insurance (which changed from the last time I filled it--YAY health insurance reform) absolutely refused to fill the prescription as they deemed it "not medically necessary" though my doctor had been ordering this exact same script for me for TEN SOLID YEARS and the insurance company knew me for, oh, 4 months. (Another aside: I am told my phone call with that particular company was especially epic as I went all debate champion all over them...I don't take being screwed over well).
That picture? The one right up there? My lost prescription. Good until next year. And about three months too late to help me.
Apparently, I keep my medicine in a first aid kit now. >_<
So, yeah, yesterday can take a flying leap off a tall cliff for all I care. I'm kind of done with it.
...or, y'know a flying tumble down a driveway...I have it on good authority that those hurt terribly when you're over the age of seven.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
A Fortnight Passes
So, two weeks have passed since I posted last...at least this time, I have a good reason:
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday: Last week, I had three birthday parties, three days in a row, for two guys born on the same day (my baby brother and my husband's good friend).
Wednesday: I crashed the second I got home and slept until Thursday. No knitting or reading done = no Knit-Along.
Thursday & Friday: I spent the entire night and all of Friday cleaning for company as a dear friend of mine from college was coming to stay with us until Sunday morning. I was VERY glad to have her, but that ate the part of my weekend not taken up by...
Saturday: Two friends of mine from college got married on Saturday, August 2nd, in a town over an hour from where my husband and I live. We spent the majority of that day at the festivities or traveling, and we and Dear Friend got home around midnight that night. We had an absolute blast at their wedding and reception, even though the sky decided we all needed a demonstration of Noah's Flood done in five minutes flat on city streets. (Also, take note: this Protestant was very confused in the full Roman Catholic wedding mass...and thought it was very long but beautiful...but long...so long...)
Sunday: Woke up feeling sick. After our company left, I slept and/or rested most of that day.
Monday: Found myself in that wonderful "I am not unwell enough to classify as sick, but I have no desire to do anything not involving a flop onto something soft" land, but I made an appearance at a bridal shower for one of my sisters-in-law's friends and at the weekly game night Hubster and I attend.
Tuesday: Day #3 of "Okay, body, pick a mode, any mode, but for the love of all things cute and fuzzy stick with either sick or well" land had me still not so great. We ate leftovers from the bridal shower for dinner. I felt none of the shame...and I was glad I didn't leave the food my mother-in-law tried to pawn off on me on her counter like I so desperately wanted to do.
Wednesday: Cherish threatens to send her body to counseling to make it choose a mode as she's sick of being neither sick nor well. (Anyone detecting a pattern yet? Anyone? Anyone?) It was the first day of a new volunteer tutoring job I had agreed to take, so I pulled myself together long enough to make an appearance and something more useful than a talking corpse in a library chair. When I got home, I knitted maybe two rows tops and read all of three pages of another book but forgot to take pictures of either endeavor. Honestly, I'd probably have not taken any pictures even if I had remembered as, as sorry as I am to say this, I liked my couch better than any blog readers by that time last night. Again, no shame shalt be felt this day.
That brings us to today. Though I finally--FINALLY--feel like a human with an immune system worth more than a peanut at a carnival, I am less-than-pleased to state that I am out of "spoons" for the day. Yep, I'm done. Y'see, I flew down our driveway today.
Without a car.
In a knee-length skirt.
And landed on my side...as in I skidded down the driveway on said side.
I learned today that 26-year-olds don't bounce like they're six years old anymore. I also relearned just how bad a bruise under a brush burn can hurt. I feel like I'm 80 today after brush-burning my left leg from the knee to the middle of my shin, bruising (I think--haven't looked yet) my left hip, and just overall aching everywhere from both the fall and being sick all week. I am a SORE lady. It's time to go home and sleep.
But, yeah, haven't forgotten about here yet. Should have some type of post up in a day or two. I'm also finally--yes, after TEN YEARS, FINALLY--making progress on my Sailor Moon fanfiction, so I may share it here as time goes on. We'll see!
For now, though, I want ice. And a gauze pad. And maybe a hamster ball to protect myself from, well, myself.
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday: Last week, I had three birthday parties, three days in a row, for two guys born on the same day (my baby brother and my husband's good friend).
Wednesday: I crashed the second I got home and slept until Thursday. No knitting or reading done = no Knit-Along.
Thursday & Friday: I spent the entire night and all of Friday cleaning for company as a dear friend of mine from college was coming to stay with us until Sunday morning. I was VERY glad to have her, but that ate the part of my weekend not taken up by...
Saturday: Two friends of mine from college got married on Saturday, August 2nd, in a town over an hour from where my husband and I live. We spent the majority of that day at the festivities or traveling, and we and Dear Friend got home around midnight that night. We had an absolute blast at their wedding and reception, even though the sky decided we all needed a demonstration of Noah's Flood done in five minutes flat on city streets. (Also, take note: this Protestant was very confused in the full Roman Catholic wedding mass...and thought it was very long but beautiful...but long...so long...)
Sunday: Woke up feeling sick. After our company left, I slept and/or rested most of that day.
Monday: Found myself in that wonderful "I am not unwell enough to classify as sick, but I have no desire to do anything not involving a flop onto something soft" land, but I made an appearance at a bridal shower for one of my sisters-in-law's friends and at the weekly game night Hubster and I attend.
Tuesday: Day #3 of "Okay, body, pick a mode, any mode, but for the love of all things cute and fuzzy stick with either sick or well" land had me still not so great. We ate leftovers from the bridal shower for dinner. I felt none of the shame...and I was glad I didn't leave the food my mother-in-law tried to pawn off on me on her counter like I so desperately wanted to do.
Wednesday: Cherish threatens to send her body to counseling to make it choose a mode as she's sick of being neither sick nor well. (Anyone detecting a pattern yet? Anyone? Anyone?) It was the first day of a new volunteer tutoring job I had agreed to take, so I pulled myself together long enough to make an appearance and something more useful than a talking corpse in a library chair. When I got home, I knitted maybe two rows tops and read all of three pages of another book but forgot to take pictures of either endeavor. Honestly, I'd probably have not taken any pictures even if I had remembered as, as sorry as I am to say this, I liked my couch better than any blog readers by that time last night. Again, no shame shalt be felt this day.
That brings us to today. Though I finally--FINALLY--feel like a human with an immune system worth more than a peanut at a carnival, I am less-than-pleased to state that I am out of "spoons" for the day. Yep, I'm done. Y'see, I flew down our driveway today.
Without a car.
In a knee-length skirt.
And landed on my side...as in I skidded down the driveway on said side.
I learned today that 26-year-olds don't bounce like they're six years old anymore. I also relearned just how bad a bruise under a brush burn can hurt. I feel like I'm 80 today after brush-burning my left leg from the knee to the middle of my shin, bruising (I think--haven't looked yet) my left hip, and just overall aching everywhere from both the fall and being sick all week. I am a SORE lady. It's time to go home and sleep.
But, yeah, haven't forgotten about here yet. Should have some type of post up in a day or two. I'm also finally--yes, after TEN YEARS, FINALLY--making progress on my Sailor Moon fanfiction, so I may share it here as time goes on. We'll see!
For now, though, I want ice. And a gauze pad. And maybe a hamster ball to protect myself from, well, myself.
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
My First Yarn-Along! Or, A First Glimpse at Cherish's First Shirt
People who first meet me learn two things in (often) quick succession:
As a result, it was only a matter of time until my blog drew in some of this side to me. I learned to crochet when I was 17 (...which I just realized was NINE years ago...oy...), and I finally got the hang of knitting about two years ago. Everywhere I go, I have a knitting or crocheting project on me, my Kindle fire, or a paperback. I pull one of those out regardless of location, using them to calm my stressed out mind, to pass the time, or just for a change of pace. I even combine these two loves of mine: I read while crocheting projects that I can do by feel, and I listen to audiobooks for all the others.
In an attempt to capture some of my personality--and to keep my easily distracted crafter-brain focused--I am joining up with Ginny's Yarn-Along! Due to my inability to look away from my knitting, as well as my scatter-brained personality, you'll see me alternate between ebooks, audiobooks, and physical books, as well as between my projects. I'm hoping this helps me focus on finishing projects, but we'll just have to wait and see!
THE CRAFT: I am working on Elena Nodel's Playground Shirt for my oldest niece, AB. I picked this pattern to stretch myself as a knitter. I figured the challenge of shaping a simple child's garment combined with the ease and comfort of the good ol' stockinette stitch would keep me from growing too frustrated. So far, it's going well.
My only complaint is that the pattern for the 5T-6T size was off by at least 18 stitches when it came time to transfer the armholes to scrap yarn. A few glances at other knitters' finished projects and a frantic picture message to a knitter friend cured the problem, after some frightening tearing back. (And to place over 200 stitches back on my needles and only dropped 6--I call that a success!)
Lessons learned? 1) ALWAYS question the patterns when you think it seems off, and 2) Never knit a row involving stitch transfers or pattern changes when you're exhausted. I transferred those stitches at 3 am; if I had used my head and waited until the next day, I'd never have had to tear back in the first place. Ah well! I'm a little bit wiser and more confident for it!
THE BOOK: I'm listening to I See You Everywhere by Julia Glass. The story follows two sisters, Louisa and Clement, who are so different that (at least to me) they start to seem alike in their entertaining "fumbles" through adulthood and responsibility. Louisa is an artist bound by her own judgement and strong sense (...most of the time...) of what is sensible. Clem, on the other hand, is a wildlife enthusiast driven by passion but stuck in her own wildness. Their adult stories unfold through each woman's stream of consciousness, forcing the story to focus on the the next time each saw their sister and alternating narrators with each part.
I'm finding this tale very engrossing. Though I want to shake both of these women for doing things I would deem foolish, I love how Glass's characterization of each woman makes them deeply flawed but deeply real, driving you as a reader to continue learning about them so you can discover just what drives both of these women. Though I would never label either woman as a role model, you can definitely emphasize with their struggles, both the ones forced upon them and the ones that their foolishness forces upon them.
- I obsessively read.
- I obsessively knit and crochet.
As a result, it was only a matter of time until my blog drew in some of this side to me. I learned to crochet when I was 17 (...which I just realized was NINE years ago...oy...), and I finally got the hang of knitting about two years ago. Everywhere I go, I have a knitting or crocheting project on me, my Kindle fire, or a paperback. I pull one of those out regardless of location, using them to calm my stressed out mind, to pass the time, or just for a change of pace. I even combine these two loves of mine: I read while crocheting projects that I can do by feel, and I listen to audiobooks for all the others.
In an attempt to capture some of my personality--and to keep my easily distracted crafter-brain focused--I am joining up with Ginny's Yarn-Along! Due to my inability to look away from my knitting, as well as my scatter-brained personality, you'll see me alternate between ebooks, audiobooks, and physical books, as well as between my projects. I'm hoping this helps me focus on finishing projects, but we'll just have to wait and see!
(Forgive the terrible camera phone picture--it was the only option I had available today)
THE CRAFT: I am working on Elena Nodel's Playground Shirt for my oldest niece, AB. I picked this pattern to stretch myself as a knitter. I figured the challenge of shaping a simple child's garment combined with the ease and comfort of the good ol' stockinette stitch would keep me from growing too frustrated. So far, it's going well.
My only complaint is that the pattern for the 5T-6T size was off by at least 18 stitches when it came time to transfer the armholes to scrap yarn. A few glances at other knitters' finished projects and a frantic picture message to a knitter friend cured the problem, after some frightening tearing back. (And to place over 200 stitches back on my needles and only dropped 6--I call that a success!)
Lessons learned? 1) ALWAYS question the patterns when you think it seems off, and 2) Never knit a row involving stitch transfers or pattern changes when you're exhausted. I transferred those stitches at 3 am; if I had used my head and waited until the next day, I'd never have had to tear back in the first place. Ah well! I'm a little bit wiser and more confident for it!
THE BOOK: I'm listening to I See You Everywhere by Julia Glass. The story follows two sisters, Louisa and Clement, who are so different that (at least to me) they start to seem alike in their entertaining "fumbles" through adulthood and responsibility. Louisa is an artist bound by her own judgement and strong sense (...most of the time...) of what is sensible. Clem, on the other hand, is a wildlife enthusiast driven by passion but stuck in her own wildness. Their adult stories unfold through each woman's stream of consciousness, forcing the story to focus on the the next time each saw their sister and alternating narrators with each part.
I'm finding this tale very engrossing. Though I want to shake both of these women for doing things I would deem foolish, I love how Glass's characterization of each woman makes them deeply flawed but deeply real, driving you as a reader to continue learning about them so you can discover just what drives both of these women. Though I would never label either woman as a role model, you can definitely emphasize with their struggles, both the ones forced upon them and the ones that their foolishness forces upon them.
Monday, March 24, 2014
In Which One Adult Educator Lesson Plans...slowly...
I've been desperately trying to write lesson plans for literally 3 weeks now.
...okay...more like 11 weeks... *hangs head in shame*
With my classes, I tend to write down brief plans a week before I do them in my planner. They're usually something like "X class: pp ##-## (skill) Monday; pp ##-## Tuesday...", etc. I'm to the point with my curriculum that I can look at the skill with the book and page number and know what we'll be doing that day and how to prepare for it. My supervisor, in turn, knows that if he asks me what the plan is that week, I can rattle it off or show him. The result, though, is that I rarely find a need for the detailed plans we like to keep on file here.
Now, in my first few sessions of classes, I needed that detailed plan like I need my planner or my Bible. Those detailed plans helped me think more along the lines of what a learner needs than what a teacher thinks will work. These days, however, I know my learners and what works, so I can go off of prior experiences moreso than the detailed, formal plans. I still keep those detailed lesson plans, but I (somewhat ashamedly) write them at the end of a week more as reflection from those smaller ones written into my planner ahead of time. This, for me, lets me chronicle what worked, what materials helped, which were a flop, etc. In turn, those pieces of information are on hand for reflection when planning other lessons: I can look back when I have new students to see what worked or didn't in the past and, in turn, can then turn those around to try again or to rule out old methods.
The big problem this session has been keeping up with those lesson plans. The problem, actually, was two-fold:
...okay...more like 11 weeks... *hangs head in shame*
With my classes, I tend to write down brief plans a week before I do them in my planner. They're usually something like "X class: pp ##-## (skill) Monday; pp ##-## Tuesday...", etc. I'm to the point with my curriculum that I can look at the skill with the book and page number and know what we'll be doing that day and how to prepare for it. My supervisor, in turn, knows that if he asks me what the plan is that week, I can rattle it off or show him. The result, though, is that I rarely find a need for the detailed plans we like to keep on file here.
Now, in my first few sessions of classes, I needed that detailed plan like I need my planner or my Bible. Those detailed plans helped me think more along the lines of what a learner needs than what a teacher thinks will work. These days, however, I know my learners and what works, so I can go off of prior experiences moreso than the detailed, formal plans. I still keep those detailed lesson plans, but I (somewhat ashamedly) write them at the end of a week more as reflection from those smaller ones written into my planner ahead of time. This, for me, lets me chronicle what worked, what materials helped, which were a flop, etc. In turn, those pieces of information are on hand for reflection when planning other lessons: I can look back when I have new students to see what worked or didn't in the past and, in turn, can then turn those around to try again or to rule out old methods.
The big problem this session has been keeping up with those lesson plans. The problem, actually, was two-fold:
- Time crunches: This past session, my co-teacher and I were covering jail classes until an incarceration teacher could be found. Though I loved those classes, it sapped a LOT of time from my schedule that I was accustomed to having for planning. I instead had to plan out lessons for a substitute to administer, plan jail classes, implement the jail classes, then catch up on what I missed. Again, I loved those classes in a strange way, but I still missed my usual planning time.
- Computer Issues: I have no idea why, but my work laptop picked the past 2 months to pitch an ever-lasting fit. A fan died in the laptop (or at least has begun the process of dying; either way, the machine overheats if you look at it wrong), and a fan in my cooling pad also died without warning--on the same day that the other fan became very loud. After weeks of my computer just randomly shutting itself off or running slower than the DOS machines of my childhood, I finally figured out the issue was overheating and purchased a new cooling pad. The computer runs just fine now, but the constant shut downs and lags slowed me way down.
Now that I've resolved both, I'm finally cranking out plans. Problem is that I also have to crank out some plans for the new session starting two weeks from today. I think I've finally come up with a system that will compensate for all kinds of issues. We'll just have to see what works.
Ah well: such is the name of the game in education! Try, try, and try again, then reflect on it all and try some more!
(Anyone else find they lesson plan like this? What works for you?)
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Literacy Ain't Just for the Young!
When I tell people I teach reading to adults, I often get a lot of...interesting looks. Some pity me, assuming I get the absolute "worst" of society: drug addicts, high school dropouts, felons, criminals, homeless people, jobless people, etc. Others assume my students are only there as someone forced them there, demanded they stop being the drain on society they so obviously are. Even a few assume I spend my days desperately trying to force adults to learn things they have NO interest in learning. Heck, I've even had a few tell me I just repackage lessons and get my summers off...while I was packing up to go teach a class in July that I had spent an entire weekend designing.
...yeah...about that...
I don't get mad at these people. (...well, okay, I got mad at the last one for being condescending, but that angers me in people who verbally attack people who aren't me.) Instead, I just view them as someone who has no idea of what I do everyday, and that's okay. I just see it as another opportunity to educate people.
It's not uncommon for people in adult education to joke that we're a forgotten field. Much of the literacy funding that's available in the USA goes to children's literacy. Honestly, that doesn't surprise me: it seems a huge chunk of the educational movements in our country are focused on "our future," with "the future" soundly considered to be those who are under 21 or, in many cases, 18 years of age.
But is that the right approach?
Yesterday, I stumbled upon a TEDx Talk about the growing need for adult literacy instruction in our nation and beyond. The speaker (Daphne Greenburg) spoke about being an adult literacy tutor and the many people she encountered in her line of work. Even as a professional in that field, it spoke to me.
Many of those students sit at the tables in my classroom.
You can ask an adult education professional (instructor, program director, tutor, etc) for what kind of people make up their classrooms, and I'd almost bet that most people would counter with "Just start naming the types of people you know. We've got them all." And they'd be right.
...yeah...about that...
I don't get mad at these people. (...well, okay, I got mad at the last one for being condescending, but that angers me in people who verbally attack people who aren't me.) Instead, I just view them as someone who has no idea of what I do everyday, and that's okay. I just see it as another opportunity to educate people.
It's not uncommon for people in adult education to joke that we're a forgotten field. Much of the literacy funding that's available in the USA goes to children's literacy. Honestly, that doesn't surprise me: it seems a huge chunk of the educational movements in our country are focused on "our future," with "the future" soundly considered to be those who are under 21 or, in many cases, 18 years of age.
But is that the right approach?
Yesterday, I stumbled upon a TEDx Talk about the growing need for adult literacy instruction in our nation and beyond. The speaker (Daphne Greenburg) spoke about being an adult literacy tutor and the many people she encountered in her line of work. Even as a professional in that field, it spoke to me.
Many of those students sit at the tables in my classroom.
You can ask an adult education professional (instructor, program director, tutor, etc) for what kind of people make up their classrooms, and I'd almost bet that most people would counter with "Just start naming the types of people you know. We've got them all." And they'd be right.
- I have high school graduates, and I have high school dropouts.
- I have college graduates, and I have college drop-outs.
- I have currently employed people and demoted workers, and I have jobless people seeking work in a rural, impoverished area.
- I have people holding down steady jobs--people who want to move on to new fields of work.
- I have people with steady jobs who got hurt on said job and now cannot perform their duties and are forced to make a career change.
In short, just like in any other population, you cannot make sweeping generalizations of adult learners. That term alone can also refer to adults going back to college, and how often do we truly refer to those learners as lazy, inconsiderate, criminal drains upon society's lacking resources? This is a vast injustice as these people, though not the "future," are a huge growing concern for our society. They deserve as many educational opportunities as the young.
Who knows: how many of them, like Greenburg says, will be going home to some of the very same learners childhood literacy movements are trying to reach? Does it not benefit children to surround them with adults who understand the value of education?
Friday, January 24, 2014
Hey, I Had a Blog!
Well, I went to read a blog today in Blogger and, low and behold, I apparently STILL have the blog I started as a scholarship entry for grad school back in, oh, 2010.
...It is 2014...for 24 whole days now!
Needless to say, today I deleted the one-and-only post as it was TERRIBLE. It reeked of "college senior English major burned out on school, writing, scholarship entries, and life." (It also reeked of "I THINK I want a Masters in Library Science but all the doors are closing and I have no idea which one will open so I will ramble here until you throw money at me KTHNXBAI.") That's not what I want to be my blogging legacy (if such things even exist) in this world. So, it's gone.
Instead of ending the blog, however, I decided to re-purpose it. Rename it, redesign it, and play around to see if I really want to get into this whole "blogging" thing. I have many blogs I read that I love, and they always inspire my creative side to write more, to get my voice out and share it with others. It will take some time, though, to figure out what that is.
I'm up for the journey.
So, for starters, my name is Cherish: hence the "pun-y" title to this blog. I'm a newlywed as of December 28, 2013; my husband is a PR guy for a local university. In my free time, I knit, crochet, write, draw, and play clarinet when I can. That free time is sorely limited, however: I'm also a 25-year-old teacher at a non-profit in Western New York.
What makes me unique as a teacher is that I'm what's called an "adult classroom instructor." My non-profit in concerned with family literacy, and I work in their adult program. My role in the non-profit is to teach adults to read as well as to sharpen their reading skills so they can better themselves (through HSEs [High School Equivalency diplomas, for all you non-New Yorkers], obtaining jobs, or improving their work outlook), their families (through the empowerment of knowing they can help their students learn as they can read better as well as through the economic boost of such knowledge), and the community.
Yes, you read that right: I teach adults to read. And write, on occasion, but that mostly happens at the jail.
...oh, that too: I teach two mornings a week at our local jail until July. Many teachers equate their classrooms to jails at times: my classroom really is one a few times a week.
Despite the challenges you can imagine crop up in my job, I love it. I love the creativity it takes to create lessons that engage, encourage, and strengthen my students. I love the environment of adult education and the HUGE changes I see happen with my students. I adore knowing that I work with students many, many other people, educational systems, and communities have written off as "lost causes" and "worthless drains on society." I never see them that way: I see the potential that lies there, even when they fail to see it themselves. And I adore knowing that my attempts to teach them often go beyond the classroom, helping them better others.
So, welcome to this teacher's personal blog. Let's see where it goes.
...It is 2014...for 24 whole days now!
Needless to say, today I deleted the one-and-only post as it was TERRIBLE. It reeked of "college senior English major burned out on school, writing, scholarship entries, and life." (It also reeked of "I THINK I want a Masters in Library Science but all the doors are closing and I have no idea which one will open so I will ramble here until you throw money at me KTHNXBAI.") That's not what I want to be my blogging legacy (if such things even exist) in this world. So, it's gone.
Instead of ending the blog, however, I decided to re-purpose it. Rename it, redesign it, and play around to see if I really want to get into this whole "blogging" thing. I have many blogs I read that I love, and they always inspire my creative side to write more, to get my voice out and share it with others. It will take some time, though, to figure out what that is.
I'm up for the journey.
So, for starters, my name is Cherish: hence the "pun-y" title to this blog. I'm a newlywed as of December 28, 2013; my husband is a PR guy for a local university. In my free time, I knit, crochet, write, draw, and play clarinet when I can. That free time is sorely limited, however: I'm also a 25-year-old teacher at a non-profit in Western New York.
What makes me unique as a teacher is that I'm what's called an "adult classroom instructor." My non-profit in concerned with family literacy, and I work in their adult program. My role in the non-profit is to teach adults to read as well as to sharpen their reading skills so they can better themselves (through HSEs [High School Equivalency diplomas, for all you non-New Yorkers], obtaining jobs, or improving their work outlook), their families (through the empowerment of knowing they can help their students learn as they can read better as well as through the economic boost of such knowledge), and the community.
Yes, you read that right: I teach adults to read. And write, on occasion, but that mostly happens at the jail.
...oh, that too: I teach two mornings a week at our local jail until July. Many teachers equate their classrooms to jails at times: my classroom really is one a few times a week.
Despite the challenges you can imagine crop up in my job, I love it. I love the creativity it takes to create lessons that engage, encourage, and strengthen my students. I love the environment of adult education and the HUGE changes I see happen with my students. I adore knowing that I work with students many, many other people, educational systems, and communities have written off as "lost causes" and "worthless drains on society." I never see them that way: I see the potential that lies there, even when they fail to see it themselves. And I adore knowing that my attempts to teach them often go beyond the classroom, helping them better others.
So, welcome to this teacher's personal blog. Let's see where it goes.
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