...One of these days, I'll be a consistent blogger...

...well, hi there.

I'm back again...clearly.

*ahem*

Okay, so things have been crazy.  Let's break this into pieces, and I'll slam it behind a break as it's going to be monstrous.  But, before the break, a cute Pablo picture!

Because, let's be honest: this is the internet.  We're powered by cute cat pictures!

Clearly, I Have Been Preoccupied For a While...

...yep, been a while.

*cough*

So, a bunch of changes went down since my last writing...in April...anyways.

1) We bought a house!

My husband and I rapidly outgrew our apartment, so we went on the hunt for a larger one we could rent, preferably one that'd be big enough to support us starting our family in the next year or two.  Well, we live(d) in a college town, and the cost of apartments in the small city just down the street was...unreasonable, to say the very least.  On a whim, we did some thinking, crunched some numbers, and hunted around until we found a 3 bedroom house we loved.  That was, oh, May.

We moved in on September 19th...if that doesn't tell you how drawn-out closing was.  It is very much a buyer's market in our area, meaning houses are for sale at fantastic prices, but all the real estate lawyers in our area are swamped.  There was a solid month of back-and-forth between the seller's attorney, our attorney, the mortgage people's attorneys--it was a blast.

... I'll pause the sarcasm here.

But we're finally in!  Painting isn't anywhere near done, which is stressing me out.  I'm doing what I can between all the other chaos.  We're still living more out of boxes than I'd care to admit thanks to a bathroom reno that had to be done while we moved in, my getting sick, and our other big change:

2) We adopted a kitten!

In the middle of July, an all-black, female kitten had been spotted running around Hubster's sister's yard.  She and my mother-in-law asked us if we'd take the female kitten, and we agreed.  In the meantime, however, my sister-in-law's neighbor's girls had adopted the kitten and named her Shadow.  We were bummed, but we let it go.  We couldn't keep a kitten at our apartment anyways and had yet to get our closing date, so we figured God was just telling us he had other plans.

Well, he did: Shadow had a brother, a tuxedo kitten, and he had set up home on my sister-in-law's porch.  Reportedly, my sister-in-law opened her back door, asked him what he wanted to do, and this kitten came rushing in and never left.  Hubster's sister called us, and we agreed to take him once we got into our house.  She agreed, in turn, to care for him until then.  Thanks to his hilarious mustache, she and her girls took to calling him Pablo Mustachio, a name that stuck.

Meet Pablo!

Our little Pablo is one of the sweetest cats we've met, and he's too cute for words.  His moustache becomes "milk dribbles" leading into his tuxedo chest piece, with a tiny tuft of black as a button in that area.  All of his whiskers are white, even the ones over his eyes, and he has a white tummy and four white socks/booties.  He's also got yellow/green/brown eyes that can't make up their mind as to what color they'll be.  (I call it pistachio green...pistachio...mustachio...*ahem*)  My favorite part?  One of his back "socks" has a black toe.

I mean, LOOK at that toe!

Pablo, as of this writing, is a little over 6 months old and 7 pounds.  We moved into our house on September 19th, and he came home the 21st.  Poor little guy then immediately chased that with a neutering on the 24th, where we learned he still had roundworms (we'd treated him for that in August after his pre-adoption check-up and first round of shots), that he had retained two top canine (fang) baby teeth, and that one of those was trying to become infected.  He came home from the vet on amoxicillin and on strict orders to rest: no running, no jumping, no climbing.

...yeah...about that.

For those who are unaware, keeping a 6-month-old kitten quiet, still, and resting is about as effective as telling a kindergartner after a heaping dose of Halloween candy that it's time for a nap, post-haste.  Nailing Jell-o to a wall is less of an exercise in futility.  He never blew an incision, though, so we call it good.  When Pablo hurt or got tired, he snuggled.  When he had the zoomies and just had to run, well, he ran.  A lot.  Sometimes into things.

It's readily apparent that he's going to be a very long, lanky cat when he's full grown.  He's growing like a weed and into everything we own.  We've decided to make him wear these vinyl nail caps to keep him from wrecking things.  Pablo's very good about seeking out his scratching lounger and scratching box when he feels the urge to scratch; he just forgets when he's playing or climbing that he packs 18 sharp claws between his four paws.  With the caps on, he still can do all the things he wants, but he doesn't inadvertently wreck our banisters, curtains, or hands.

Like I said--house is a work in progress. And he got himself up there without help.

We love the little hooligan, though, and feel blessed to be in a house we love and to finally have a cat again.  Both of us are huge cat people, so being pet-less drove us about nuts.  Expect him to feature here regularly as, as my friends and husband tell me, I was always a crazy cat lady: it's just official now.

#CrazyCatLadyStatusAchieved

Crackerjack: Yarn-Along #7

So, my crafting is pretty sporadic right now, mostly as Hubster and I are house-hunting!  For those who have been through it, you understand.  For those who haven't, just know it's an incredibly fun yet exhausting, stressful, and terrifying thing.  Most of our free-time lately has been spent on mortgage things, looking at houses online, touring houses, etc.

Regardless, I am sneaking in some crafting...

THE CRAFTS: I have been crocheting the same blankets...still...alongside cross-stitching.  I've also been working on that same infernal cardigan.  Can someone more experienced than I please explain to me why sweater sleeves are the black hole of knitting, the realm in which you can knit for hours and seemingly make absolutely no progress?  I just don't understand it.  The rounds are, what, 40-55 stitches around and regularly decreasing?  Logic would state they should work up quickly!  Yet, here I am three months later with not a single completed sleeve.

Anywho, I'll have more pictures of that thing on Wednesday as I have given myself a deadline.  I want to wear my cardigan to travel to NYACCE a week from today, so hopefully that gets my knitting butt in gear.

In the meantime, I picked up a "for the heck of it" knitting project to entertain myself this summer.  Those who see me on a regular basis know I'm a bit of a rabid Phillies fan, having been born and raised partially in south-eastern Pennsylvania.  Those who know anything about baseball know that the Philles are an incredibly lack-luster team as of late (...and historically...).  To make this 2015 baseball season a bit more fun, I'm knitting a Crackerjack scarf in Phillies colors.

Pattern (as of April 19th)

The plan is this:  each two rows of colors denotes one specific game played.  At the end of the season, the provisional cast-on is undone so the ends can be Kitchener-stitched together to create an infinity scarf.  I'm contemplating also back-stitching in some light blue to denote series played and to keep the scarf flat, but we'll see if I'm that ambitious come October.  My color way goes as follows: red for home wins, white for home losses, blue for away wins, and grey for away losses.

My progress, 9 games in.

...As you can see, my boys have been ever-so-conscientious of my wardrobe, keeping my scarf in neutral colors...

Yes, this is how I'm making myself feel better about our 4-9 record...

Just let me have my delusion...

THE BOOK: I was working on MaddAddam by Margaret Atwood before Christmas, but I've not picked it up since then.  I just completely lost interest, for some reason.  Part of the problem was the audio book I downloaded on my Kindle from the local library was incredibly quiet.  Even cranking it and my car's stereo up to full blast, it was darn near impossible to hear Zeb's voice actor over even something as simple as a fan.  Perhaps sometime down the road, I'll listen to the rest of it via earphones.  Right now, it doesn't fit my schedule.

In the meantime, I'm listening to Brothers by Da Chen on my commutes and...I really don't know what I think of it just yet.  It's an...interesting...book.  Parts of it I love, but others just drive me batty.  I do agree with some of the critiques: it feels like the author just took in every historical fiction trope he could imagine.  In other places, the world he illustrates in his novel is fantastically real and inviting, as well as horrifying.  I keep flip-flopping about my feelings on it.  Considering I got this book-on-CD for $1 at my local library's book sale, I can't complain too much!

I also blasted out Call the Midwife a few weeks ago, after marathoning the entire collection of episodes on Netflix in the course of a week.  That book, I adored.  I'm fascinated by the medical field--though too squeamish to have ever seriously considered a profession in that field--and love first-hand accounts of life in historical eras, so this book truly sparked my fancy.

Check out the other Yarn Along pages!

I Live!

I promise, readers, that I have not fallen off the face of the earth!  I chased my surgery with a bad cold, my mom's cat getting super sick, another infection, my husband getting super-sick, then with what proved to be one of the worst colds I've ever had.  It started in my throat, moved to my chest, went back into my throat, attacked my sinuses, and finally started to die in my ears.  Over a week later, I'm finally feeling some human.

What does that mean?  Hopefully, more regularly-posted things here!  I've a ton of knitting and crocheting (and cross-stitching!) posts I'm delayed on, as well as some other commentary-like pieces I've had stewing around my brain-meats.  My goal is to take some time this week and next to write them up and queue them so that they're ready to be posted on a schedule.  What will that schedule be?

...good question...

I'm waiting to commit until I see exactly how hectic my schedule becomes in the next few weeks.  (Also, say some prayers for me in the meantime in that regard.)  So, this should be a fun few days/weeks to see how things go!

Bouncy Kitty

Well, I am pleased to report that Milo is bouncing back and should be home on Wednesday!  He had a setback on Sunday when he yanked out his urinary catheter.  Honestly, I can't say I blame him.  The family and I are getting a great laugh out of that as, honestly, it's characteristic of Milo.  I can just imagine what was going through his head:

Milo: HEY!  Weird-People-in-Weird-Place!  I want attention!  Come PLAY with ME!  Bring Momma and Jordan!  ...what, no playing?  Well, I'll get your attention now! Bye-bye, Mr. Tube! *yank*

All jokes aside, we'll just be happy to have him home!

Strange Request

If anyone is reading this, please say a prayer for my mom's cat, Milo.  He started acting weird Thursday, got much sicker Friday, and was rushed by my family to the vet early Saturday morning.  He has a urinary blockage of some type, and it's too early to tell what kind of blockage it is or what his long-term prognosis will be.  It's very likely his treatment will cure him, but the likelihood of this recurring many times in his life is contingent on what type of blockage he has and his own predisposition.  As he's a rescue, we have no idea what other male cats in his bloodline have had happen in this regard.  Treatment starts around $1,200 for urinary blockages, so repeat cases of this will eventually become too costly for my family to afford.

He's currently at one of the best veterinary clinics in our area undergoing treatment and possible surgery, though we've yet at the time of this posting to hear anything on how he's doing.  The vet was optimistic that he'll pull through and be perfectly fine (though on a modified diet the rest of his life) after this.  My parents and youngest brother caught Milo's symptoms in the earliest stages, praise God, so that improves his outlook significantly.  The vet had to warn us all, though, that some cats become very prone to these life-threatening blockages and, as a result, have to be put down.  Milo, most likely, isn't one of these cats, but it's too soon to tell.  He's just shy of 5 years old and has never been sick prior to this; we're hoping that means it's just a freak thing that happened the poor little guy.

We all love this cat like a family member; my brothers and I affectionately call him our baby fur-brother for good reason.  The thought of him possibly having a chronic, painful, and possibly life-threatening condition for the rest of his life has us all in pretty bad mental states.  Most of us are remaining as positive as we can, hoping and praying this is just a one-time thing for Milo and that he'll prove to be as resilient and strong as he's always been throughout his life.

Milo came to us through an animal rescue that found him abandoned in a hot attic with no food or water.  He was reportedly in very bad shape when they found him, but he bounced back quickly and has been healthy and happy since.  Due to his tough start in life, he has some separation anxiety issues along with problems dealing with change.  He handles them well, all things considered--He quickly calms down when my mom or youngest brother are around, though he is quite skittish for a grown cat--but stress can exasperate his urinary condition.  We're all hoping he's so sedated at the vet's for the next few days that he can't get too anxious and worked up until he's well enough to come home to familiar people and surroundings.

So, if you're okay with it, remember a sweet, goofy cat in your thoughts and prayers over the next few days.  We just want him home, healthy, and safe.

One Organ Lighter

So, the partial silence on this blog has been because I've been laid up recovering from that much-needed gallbladder removal.  January 7th came and went very easily, thank God: believe it or not, I was at the hospital by 6 am and home before noon.  Three tiny incisions (one dead center of my abdomen a few inches below my breastbone, another probably 8 inches down and to the right, and a third on my right side a few inches below where my ribs end) and one much larger one (in my belly button up top) later, I'm a slowly-recovering human sans a malfunctioning organ.

(Let me just slip in here that it blows my mind that they can remove an organ through four small incisions.  The ones on my abdomen are just over a half inch long tops, with the highest one being the biggest and, I found out, the incision through which Adolf Gallbladder exited me.  The one in my belly button is an inch to an inch and a half long.  My dad had to have an open procedure, and his incision is positively massive.)

The past few days have been...interesting...

• January 7th: went into hospital, had gallbladder removed, came home.  Was able to eat for the first time in literally days, which I celebrated by eating (over the course of 24 hours) four small bowls of my momma's homemade chicken noodle soup and crackers.  (This, in hindsight, was a great thing and a terrible thing all at the same time.)  Slept a ton, paced a lot, learned that getting up from laying down blows and that I had an incision on my right side I couldn't see past my boob.  (The moment of discovery was, in retrospect, positively hilarious.  Imagine a petite 20-something woman trying to leap off her sore side from laying down, unable to do so, and having her mother help her up, all while she's babbling about discovering the mystery "missing" fourth incision and how they shouldn't have snuck a fourth in on her like that as she went into surgery willingly...I was on painkillers, ok?)  I also learned that hiccuping and sneezing are the absolute worst thing to do right now.  Painkillers from hospital controlled pain well.  Momma went home that night; Hubby called off work for the next day as a precaution.  I also learned that gas pains settling where my gallbladder was removed was, bar none, the worst pain of my entire life, and I had shingles once.  I literally cried and scared my poor husband about to death.


• January 8th: Oh my word, did this day ever blow.  I woke up with one of the worst sinus headaches of my life, dizzy, lightheaded, and incredibly nauseous.  Whatever motion sick patch they put on me at the hospital before surgery abruptly quit working sometime during the night (...and my body decided it was allergic to its glue, creating hives I just cleared up), and my body subsequently decided it hated the painkiller and wanted it deported from my body, either from me not eating enough when I took it or from just deciding to assert its new-found independence.  I don't remember much from this day that wasn't spent throwing up or trying NOT to throw up.  Once we forced crackers into me long enough to keep down Advil, I was okay.  It was a very long day for both of us.  Hubby called off the following day to be safe as I hadn't ate a thing past crackers and chicken broth in 24 hours; he was worried with how dizzy I was that I'd have trouble getting around the apartment alone.  The poor man, bless his soul, only left the apartment to pick up a casserole from my brother at his workplace while I was on the phone with my mom, pacing out gas pains, after both Momma and I encouraged him to go get it so I'd have food options available past soup.  Thank goodness I had eaten so well the day before, as we think that reserve is what kept me going most of Thursday when I couldn't even keep ice chips down.


• January 9th: WORLDS better today.  The soreness from surgery finally hit me full-force without painkillers in my system, making getting up to move around my apartment like I should a bit problematic.  Hubby, again, was an absolute God-send through this, helping me up when I needed it and making it so I only had to get up to walk, not to retrieve things (mostly as I was very unsteady on my feet--lightheadedness has been my chief complaint of recovery).  For some reason, my left eye (which has had a muscle imbalance my entire life) was absolutely refusing to focus on anything near my face, so I was unable to do most anything I enjoy (gaming, crocheting, knitting, reading); I settled for random shows on Netflix and Hulu as I could focus my eyes on our TV across the room.  I also started trying little eye exercises I recalled from my childhood to get my eye to work again with my prismatic glasses.  Slowly started eating real food again.  We also started being a bit concerned that the...end products...of digestion weren't happening.  The surgeon had warned us that my digestive system would probably launch all kinds of varying rebellions for a few days, so we gave my GI tract a deadline of afternoon the next day to get its (...literal...) shit together.


• January 10th: I started feeling well enough to be stir crazy, and Hubby really wanted to watch the NFL playoff games (we don't have cable), so we packed up to spend the day at his mom's and do our laundry there.  (We forgot the laundry...because we are just that skilled...)  I finally achieved the so-called end-product we were waiting on that morning, so I was finally starting to feel a lot more like myself.  I could eat pretty much anything I wanted, but my stomach really hurt if I ate more than 5-6 grams of fat in a single meal.  Came home unbelievably exhausted but relieved that I could do something, even if it was collapse on my mother-in-law's couch wearing pajama bottoms and a sports bra under a hoodie.  But gosh darn it all, people, I did my hair that day.  That was progress.  Oh!  I also got my left eye to finally start cooperating, so I spent some of my night playing Pokemon HeartGold on my Nintendo DS.  I still wasn't mentally with it enough to try crafting, and I was too tired a lot of my waking time to focus on a book, so I avoid all of those.


• January 11th: My body decided to raise a mini-Hell over my deciding to eat real food the day before; I spent most of this day near a bathroom or wondering if I should move near one.  I was super light-headed if I got up for too long, and the incision in my bellybutton started itching and stinging a ton.  Spent the day on the couch alternating ice and heat on my bellybutton incision and napping as needed.  I discovered some cool Youtubers in my boredom, played a ton of Pokemon, and overall was just bored, bored, bored.


• January 12th: Lightheadedness finally started evaporating when I realized that it kicks in if I get too hungry; for some reason, my body gets lightheaded about a half-hour before I feel hungry.  Started eating small meals every few hours to keep this at bay.  Felt brave enough to cook dinner, empty our dishwasher, and reload it.  I also learned at dinner that I cannot eat a regular-sized meal unless I want to eat it sitting in my bathroom...it doesn't end well.  Bellybutton incision still raised a minor hell every time I laid down (felt like it was being pulled apart); mirrors and a loving Hubby confirmed it wasn't infected, so we didn't think much about it.  Lightheadedness, though diminishing, still persisted while I was up on feet for too long.


• January 13th: HUGE chunk of the dermabond gluing my bellybutton incision shut popped off early in the morning; clearly that was the issue behind all the pulling-stabbing-stinging pain.  Incision still looks fantastic, so woo!  Still getting super lightheaded, dizzy, or unsteady when walking around the apartment for too long, though I did manage to make dinner, unload the dishwasher, and reload it with a few sitting breaks nestled into that plan.

And that leads us up to more recent history.  I'm clear to return to work next week, which is two work days later than I originally wanted.  The night of the 14th, I talked Hubby into letting me drive us to our local Tops and get groceries.  He agreed.  We got my car scraped out of the snow, defrosted, and out of the driveway.  I drove us to Tops with no problems sans some bellybutton/belly discomfort from the seatbelt, even through my winter coat.  I got us into Tops, got a cart (figuring I could lean on it if I needed to), and into the store we went full of hopes and goals.

Ladies and gents, I didn't make it out of produce before I wanted to pass out, and that's literally the first section you enter in our local Tops.  I never fainted, passed out, or the like, but I was very unsteady on my feet and visibly worn out.  I nearly collapsed into the driver's seat of Tony the Super Impala while Hubby returned our cart, my head hung in exhaustion while I willed up the power to drive us the 10 minute or less drive home.  We got the groceries into the apartment and put away, and I proceeded to collapse onto the couch in a heap of sadness and exhaustion.  From the time we left the apartment to the time we got home, we were gone exactly an hour and a half, and that 90 minute journey kicked my butt.  My stomach throbbed.  My head spun.  Just, nope.

So, unhappily, we agreed with the surgeon at my first follow-up the next morning that I had no business driving an hour round-trip to and from work and working seven hours (most of which probably on my feet) when I could barely walk around a store without it metaphorically spinning around me.  My surgeon had initially wanted me off work two full weeks, so she was happy to "split the difference" with me on this one; I initially wanted to be back exactly a week after surgery, but it'll be closer to a week and a half when I go back.  I called work, had the surgeon's PA fax the appropriate work release notice saying I was cleared no sooner than the week of the 19th, and I went home to collapse on my couch.

For whatever reason, my body either really sucks at clearing anesthesia from my system (as I had a similar issue when I had a diagnostic laparoscopy in 2013--I nearly passed out at a work fundraiser four days after it and was a wobbly mess most of the following week at work) or it goes into shut down mode after surgery.  I'm a bit infamous in my family, in my circle of friends, and at work for driving myself to the near-breaking point out of altruism and sheer stubbornness, so my theory is my body knows the only way it's going to get me to actually rest is if it full-on demands it.  It makes me too weak to do anything but rest until it is truly strong enough to do what I throw at it.

As of today, I'm 10 days post-op and finally starting to feel more like myself.  I have an area over my belly button that's swollen, tender, and finicky still, but the swelling is finally starting to go down.  On doctor's orders, I'm keeping my trusty rice bag on it heated whenever I think of it, and that seems to be doing the trick.  Over 95% of the Dermabond has fallen off by now, and I am slowly looking less like I put up a good battle in a knife fight.  One incision kind of looks like a butt, though...which is weird to me.  My belly button one also stings a ton the longer I'm up and moving, probably because its positioning in my belly button means it gets bonked and rubbed a ton.  Overall, I'm at that point in incision healing where they freaking itch.  The one on my right side is particularly brutal with this, especially as I usually sleep on that side.  I also often forget where exactly that stupid thing is, so I catch myself scratching it...wwhheenn I hit it and send myself into a fit of owing over the pain.  I also have some minor swelling in my lower right ribs and find that my digestion is a bit finickier than I'd like.

Despite all of this, I feel better than I have in literally years.  The pain in my ribs is finally, finally gone.  I can eat most anything I want (within reason) without huge worry or pain.  The heartburn that plagued me for months is gone, and if it does return (say, I eat something fattier than I should have eaten), two Tums soothes it away easily.  I'm still taking ibuprofen daily, but it's mostly a precautionary messure to keep the post-op swelling down and to soothe the stinging in my incisions so I don't scratch them.  If I could get my energy levels to stabilize, I'd be fantastic!

The Last Stand

Last week, physically, blew.  It totally, completely, sucked.  My gallbladder has apparently launched a last, vicious battle against me in the form of what I'm calling mini gallbladder attacks.  Basically, when I eat, I get some (or all) of the following symptoms.

• Moderate to severe abdominal pain (usually upper right)
• Moderate to moderately severe nausea; often spikes the next morning when I wake
• Moderate abdominal bloating
• Pressure under the right side of my ribs
• Feeling of something getting caught under my right ribs when I move
• Stabbing/burning pain under the right side of my ribs
• Diarrhea OR constipation (absolutely no pattern, rhyme, or reason for this one when they happen or which happens)
• Heartburn

I call them mini attacks as they aren't as severe as any gallbladder attack I can recall having; in retrospect, I had two that took me to my knees and absolutely incapacitated me for a day or two.  I literally could not eat a thing without nearly throwing up until it passed.  Though I'm not near that level, I'm having a rough go this week and last.

Basically, I'm eating a ton of plain rice (sometimes with a splash of vinegar on it for flavor), whatever steamed vegetables I have on hand that stay down, chicken or other white meats (all fat hacked off), and various fruit smoothies I can make from things in my freezer.  Hubster and I received a Ninja blender for Christmas that has absolutely been my BFF.  Almond milk is staying in me well, so I make whatever smoothies I can think of with it and fruits to supplement larger meals.  Any big meal I eat, I do so only at home where I am near a bathroom.

To complicate issues, I also got my period just in time for surgery.  It also decided to come with every horrific symptom it could bring with it, just for kicks and giggles.  Since surgery is in two days, I can't take anything but Tylenol for pain.  It's taking the edge off, but not very much.  I didn't sleep at all last night with the pain, though I did sleep a few hours this evening.  I'll be far enough along with Aunt Flo to barely notice it by Wednesday, thankfully, but it made this past weekend doubly hard to handle.

The hardest thing has been stepping back and accepting that I cannot do everything I normally do anymore.  I just don't have the physical ability to do so.

Anniversary! And More Galling News.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

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.)

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:

• 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!

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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.

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.

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.

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:

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!

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