Monday, February 21, 2011

It's snowing again?

Hi! It's snowing again today. We've had some warm weather, recently, and we were tempted to believe that gd rodent Phil that there would be an early spring. Never believe what a rodent tells you. That's just good advice, there. (On a side note, we've been watching a lot of the movie Cars here at chez Penny. I've come to not hate Larry the Cable Guy (is that capitalized?). It's a very confusing time for everyone.)

Anyway, the snow isn't bad, but, instead, very pretty. A dusting. New Jersey saying, it's still winter, you know. Don't get ahead of yourself. And? New Jersey is also saying, "See? Sometimes it's pretty here. Sometimes it's beautiful. Enjoy it."

New Jersey is talking to me. I just entered a whole new level of lameness.

Also, I finally got the news about the MRI and it wasn't good. Lots more testing, but it seems I'll have a diagnosis in a little less than a month. I don't really want to be specific (to the two of you, max, reading this), but just want to say it'll be fine. Ultimately, fine. Manageable.

I haven't really enjoyed telling anyone about this and having to defend my symptoms. "No, really. It really is a bit serious. My fatigue isn't fake. My back ache isn't fake. I'm not faking. I'm not lazy. Oh, yea? Eff you, then. YEA? EFF YOU!!!" That last bit, ok the whole thing, was in my head. Never said it, just felt it. The reactions to my news have ranged to optimistic denial, which is nice, but I don't know what to say to it, to complete freaking out (my mom). I'm tired of it already and haven't really told any of my friends. Maybe telling them makes it more real. And I don't want it to be real, really.

I desperately want the energy to get the last of the goddamned boxes from our move last year out of the garage, moved to the basement, then gone through carefully. I desperately want the energy to paint our rooms upstairs, remove the ugly wallpaper from our bathroom downstairs, and maybe, maybe even start a garden this spring. A true vegetable garden for the kids. And for our very own rodent, Niffy. We have our own groundhog in the backyard that my daughter named Niffy. She's good with the names, that one.

It goes without saying that more than those things, I desperately want the energy to do right by my kids. To do more with them. To be there for them. To play with them. Instead, lately, I drudge through my day. I usually end up laying on the floor of the playroom with my son while he plays around me, pleading with me to play with him more. Two year olds can be so needy. All I can say about this (and forgive the cursing) is, Fuck.

I also want the energy to be able to make some money teaching. That would have to wait a couple of years due to my son, but I want to be able to do that. We have a contact at the Rutger's chemistry department and they need lecturers. I'd like to do that. And then work on this Phebe project. Sadly, that's last. She needs to be higher on the list, dammit. But she doesn't pay. A teaching job would pay. And I would be more useful.

I enjoy thinking about her a lot, though. My latest thing on her, totally fantastical, granted, is that she was a Patriot spy in her Loyalist household. That she helped her brother, a General in the Continental Army, to foil the British plans in Long Island. There's a link on the side from the reenactor's website. They reenact her brother's militia unit. I have no idea how to say that, really. This is fantastical. But I enjoy thinking about it. My own private romance and intrigue novel.

Must run start the day. I should probably shower at some point. More details later, I hope. We'll be travelling the end of this week until Monday, so I won't have anything to say about her this week. Maybe next.

Alrighty. Later.

2 comments:

  1. Penny? I promise not to freak out. WTF do you mean by "bad" results?
    If I was still an east-coaster, I would totally come help you unpack and paint! And I'd bring my 2 year old son to play with yours. Then we could go sneak off to Connie's and drink expensive wine!

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  2. Hi Primamommy! I miss you! Bad results means that they saw a lesion in the thoracic spine area too - that's the multiple part of MS, if they see lesions in different areas. They saw lesions in the brain mri first and I guess we were hoping for no spine lesions.

    *sigh* The way the current top dog MS specialist (he started a center, he's so bad ass) put it "For some people, it's easy to diagnose MS. For others (who have it), including you, it's more difficult." I'm 90% sure he said that part in parentheses. It's kind of hard to listen when a big time neurologist is talking quickly to you. Anyway, all of that says to me that he thinks I have it, but we have to do all these other tests so that he can make it official.

    So that's where we are. And while the dizziness is gone, I'm now having other neurological issues that are more specific than dizziness (which could be due to lots of things) and are therefore more scary. But nothing that's not manageable. I'm just wobbly. Big time wobbly. And tired. But not dizzy anymore! So that's something. Ahhh, crap. I don't know how to do this.

    Basically, we just want to get an official diagnosis so that I can get treated pharmaceutically (which I'm completely not excited about, but that's a whole nother story). It's pretty much sure that this is what I have. The MS, that is.

    I'm being specific in here, I think, so that I don't have to write an official blog post about it, because I don't want this to become any kind of illness blog, but let's be real, it kind of will. *another sigh* This sucks. In loads of ways. But as I said before, manageable. This is manageable. Let's try not to feel sorry for ourselves, Penny. For Chrissakes.

    Anyway, I'm glad to hear from you. The woman who had two kids born on August 20th was the nurse during my spinal tap (which was what my hospital short stay was about). I took that as a magical sign. Cause I'm allll about the magical thinkin. Word to the diggity. Gotta run.

    Wait, who's watching the boys while we're getting sloshed with Connie? I know, I know!! Maury! Chicka chicka!! I'm totally ignoring the damage to their psyches that might do. It'll only be a couple of hours, right? Right? RIGHT??? Right.

    Laters, bb.

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