11/24/15. The post where I win.

11/24/15: my foot and I have had an uneasy truce for the last couple of weeks.  It has been daring me to give it a reason to act out, but so far I haven't taken the bait.  Other than a few brief flare ups due to weather changes, I have felt surprisingly well.  But the holidays are coming and I am switching into full-on action figure mode. Which never goes over well.

This Thanksgiving is a special one. For the first time in our relationship, my patient, long-suffering husband and I do not have a three day music festival to produce the week after Thanksgiving.  Which means we can actually celebrate, instead of racing to a family member's home, scarfing down a meal, and racing back to work.  So this year we are hosting a dinner.  A small dinner.  I'm talking small. http://youtu.be/YYtTb23PIAs  

But even a small Thanksgiving dinner requires a large trip to the grocery store and a lot of space in the fridge.  And neither one of us was looking forward to cleaning out the fridge or braving the crowds at the store, so we had already put off both tasks several times.  Unfortunately for me, my patient, long-suffering husband thought more quickly than I did.  As I walked in the door after work, he met me with the news that he had already cleaned out the fridge.  And reminded me that he had a meeting tonight.  So, maybe I could do the grocery shopping? Well, crap.  

I finished putting together the list, had a little liquid courage, and steeled myself for the crush of humanity at the store.  I knew I would have a long walk in from the parking lot and then a long trip through the store, so I put on a comfortable pair of shoes.  Then I got in the car and drove to the store, where I found...a ghost town.  Seriously.  The parking lot was nearly empty and I pulled into the spot closest to the door.  I checked my phone to make sure I hadn't missed the end of the world.  I walked in and sped down the aisles, exchanging furtive glances with the few other shoppers in the store who also could not believe their good fortune.  I went to the checkout, where nearly every lane was empty and the bored cashiers were practically begging me to pick them.  Best.  Shopping trip.  Ever.  Within 45 minutes, I was back home and all the groceries were in the freshly cleaned fridge.  While part of me wanted to keep my patient, long-suffering husband in the dark about my lucky evening, the urge to gloat overcame me.  Looks like I won this round of the Thanksgiving chore wars.

It wasn't a total win.  Even with my unbelievably short trip, I came home with a foot that was red, swollen, and generally unhappy.  My foot hates grocery stores.  After thirty minutes of rest, though, it bounced back pretty well.  Considering the fact that I expected to still be at the grocery store at that time, it still felt like a win.  Here's hoping my luck continues for the rest of the holiday week.

11/12/15. The post where I'm not a super hero...or am I?

11/12/15: after my flare up last week, I gradually improved over several days and I've managed to keep a delicate balance for the last few days.  I can feel it chasing me, but so far I've stayed one step ahead of it.  It's an important week at work and at home and I don't have time for any RSD foolishness.

After a long day at work for both of us, my patient, long-suffering husband and I cooked a delicious, healthy dinner together.  That hasn't happened in...well, in way too long.  And we really enjoyed it.  But by the time we finished, my foot was ready to call it a day, so I settled in on the couch and we watched a movie. What movie, you ask? Avengers: Age of Ultron.   I know, at least half of you are saying, "You know that movie came out six months ago, right?"  But for us, seeing a movie within six months of its release date is a speed record.

As I watched them defy death countless times and save the planet yet again, I felt a little lame sitting on the couch with my foot propped up on pillows.  I don't think I'll be answering any super hero want ads any time soon.  But as I thought back on my week, I felt a little better.  I don't think anyone would have faulted me for lying around all week feeling sorry for myself.  But I didn't. Did I kill a bunch of bad guys?  No.  Did I perform any death-defying stunts?  No.  Did I save the planet from imminent annihilation?  No.  But in my own small way, I made the world a better place.  I completed a major accomplishment this week at work that will help a lot of people, although most of them will never know about it.  And, did I mention I also did a lot of work at home for a big concert tomorrow night?  And I've done all these things with HAL set to 11.  Maybe I'll check the super hero want ads after all.  Although I've never looked good in Lycra...

11/5/15. The post where a day with a flare up can still be a great day.

11/5/15: I've been hanging on all week, feeling like I was on the verge of a big flare up, but never quite there. Until this morning.  I woke up before the alarm went off to heavy rain and burning feet. Yes, feet. Plural. Looks like the nerve blocks in my left foot may have played out.  They were great while they lasted.

I gave myself the usual pep talk and got up to get ready. But after about twenty minutes, it was clear that it was going to take more than a pep talk today.  I checked my work calendar and - hallelujah - no pressing meetings or other tasks I couldn't take care of from home.  So, it was back into bed for awhile until I could muster up the fortitude to walk downstairs and fling myself onto the couch for the day.  I was actually fairly productive.  It's amazing what you can accomplish with wifi and a laptop.  And a patient, long-suffering husband who doesn't mind playing nurse and chef.

But before you start thinking it was a bad day, let me tell you the good news.  Mom got the results today from her most recent body scan.  The one remaining tumor continues to shrink, a residual effect of the recent radiation.  And more importantly, no new spots!  So, not only was it a great day, the upcoming holidays are going to be great as well.  

And speaking of "holidays", you may not have heard, but this month is CRPS/RSD awareness month.  (I'm certainly keenly aware of it right now.)  It is being called "Nervember" on some social media, which I find hysterical in my current addled state.  Happy Nervember, y'all! 

11/1/15. The post where it catches up with me.

11/1/15: if I told you all the things I've done since my last post without a major flare up, you wouldn't believe me.  But I'm going to tell you anyway. I've survived two business trips.  Hours of driving in the rain. Hours of flying in the rain.  Hours of sitting on a tarmac in the rain.  Miles and miles of walking.  Thirty degree temperature swings.  Three major storm fronts.  And through it all, HAL has been humming away and my foot has felt remarkably good. Nothing over a 5, even when I had to turn off HAL to go through airport security, and more often in the 2-3 range.  Yesterday, I felt good enough to walk a charity 5K and go to a costume party.  I was feeling invincible.

Well, it turns out I am vincible.  I woke up early this morning feeling like there was a knife sticking out of my foot.  (Maybe it was the power of suggestion. After all, on Halloween I saw lots of people with knives sticking out of various body parts.)  Surprisingly, my foot color looks perfectly normal.  But recently, I've discovered another method for convincing myself I am not imagining things when I have a flare up.  You probably don't keep up with the symptoms of RSD, but I do, and one of them is fluctuations in body temperature at the affected area.  Recently, my patient, long-suffering husband bought an infrared temperature gun for measuring specific spots in the oven while baking. But guess what it can also measure?  The temperature of specific spots on your body.  And this morning, as I suspected, the temperature of my right foot at the exact point the "knife" is sticking out is more than three degrees colder than the same spot on my left foot and the rest of my body.  While fascinating from an intellectual perspective and satisfying from a mental health perspective, it doesn't make the knife go away.

Fortunately, today is a pretty easy day.  Singing in church, making a dish for the neighborhood block party, attending the neighborhood block party, rehearsing with my scene partner for acting class.  I've got this.  As long as my character in the scene has a knife sticking out of her foot.  

p.s.  Tomorrow (November 2) is Color The World Orange Day, a day for raising awareness about CRPS/RSD.  Various cities, states, and even countries are planning awareness activities, local landmarks will be lit orange, and people are encouraged to wear orange.  Yeah, I know, you just wore orange for Halloween and orange is not your best color.  It's not my best color, either.  But I'm willing to make a fashion sacrifice if it raises awareness and helps in any way to find a cure.  Because pain is also not my best color.

10/21/15. The post where I go back to the future.

10/21/15: a lot has happened since my last post.  Mostly business trips and rehearsals.  I made it through my annual charity musical with no major snafus and spent most of last weekend recuperating. Just in time to start a two-city, eight-day business trip.  The night before I left, I had a mini flare-up that I feared was going to cause a serious disruption to my travel plans, but by the next morning things were much better.  So far, autumn has been unseasonably warm, which is a bummer for my awesome sweater collection, but great news for my foot.  Things change tomorrow, though.  A massive storm front, followed by travel to a city where temperatures are about 40 degrees colder.  Wish me luck.

This week I have been seriously contemplating the future.  Those of you who know me personally know I have a big job.  And it's about to get much bigger.  I've spent the last two days attending training that has brought home to me just how big it is going to be.  Which means some changes in my personal life, one of which is that I am disconnecting from social media.  I know it doesn't sound like a very big deal, but currently it is how I stay connected with friends and family, as well as several RSD/CRPS support groups.  Although frankly, I have been disconnecting from RSD/CRPS support groups slowly over the last few months already.  While the medical advice I have received and my own Internet research have stressed the importance of emotional support, I don't think most of the online groups I've joined have been very helpful to me.  I've been very fortunate so far to be able to live as "normal" a life as possible, and it's hard enough to ignore the little voice in the back of my head telling me things might change in the future without daily reminders from social media.  So it's time to strike out on my own journey and see where it takes me.  

I won't be totally alone, though.  As I've said before, you guys are my support group - my safety plan. I will continue to protect my privacy, and that of my family and friends, as much as possible when posting.  But you know who I am, and I know who you are. And I thank you.  Here's looking to the future...  http://youtu.be/JwL0HZSc2Sc

10/2/15. The post where I don't step on a piece of glass.

10/2/15: since the last time I posted, HAL seems to be on and functioning properly.  I guess I won't know for sure until we play a game of chess, but the malfunction seems to have been an isolated incident.  

While it is obvious that HAL provides significant pain management benefits, it is not a cure, and my life continues to be unbalanced.  One of the most confounding things about RSD is the unpredictability.  You would think pain is pain, but that is not the case. There are infinite variations on pain, and RSD is determined to introduce me to all of them.  In the beginning, each new variation would take my breath away and leave me curled up in a whimpering ball.  But I am becoming a pro. My reaction these days is more like, "Huh. That's interesting. I've never felt that before."  While I continue to walk across the parking lot in my 3-inch heels.

I had an experience like that this morning.  I had just begun my two mile walk when I stepped on something on the sidewalk.  Probably an acorn or a rock.  No big deal.  But a few minutes later, I got a sharp pain in the bottom of my foot, like I had stepped on a piece of glass.  I felt certain that I had not stepped on a piece of glass. And certainly, a piece of glass had not gone through the sole of my tennis shoe.  But still, it was hard to shake the feeling.  And then, my sock started to feel wet.  I know that unusual sweating is also a symptom of RSD.  But it sure felt like I was bleeding.

This isn't my first rodeo, though.  I was not going to stop and check my foot.  I continued the rest of my walk, thinking, "I'm not bleeding. I'm not bleeding."  But I was not entirely convinced.  When I got home, I took off my shoe gingerly and looked at my foot.  And sure enough, I was not bleeding.  My sock was soaked and my foot was beet red, but I was not bleeding and I had not stepped on a piece of glass.  I felt vindicated.

It made me stop and think, though.  What happens some day when I actually do step on a piece of glass? Or break a metatarsal? Or set my foot on fire?  I have no idea.  Guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.  In the meantime, I will appreciate my good fortune. And avoid playing chess with HAL.

9/28/15. The post where my stimulator gets a nickname.

9/28/15: last week was a blur.  I had two out-of-town work obligations, approximately 400 miles apart from each other and from home, which meant I logged more than 800 miles in the driver's seat in a week. Why didn't I fly, you ask?  There was not a flight schedule that could accommodate the timing of the two events. And as you know, flying (not to mention getting through security to get on a flight) poses its own set of pain issues for me, so driving wasn't so bad.  I also logged more than 10,000 steps nearly every day, according to my trusty health monitor watch.  Not too bad for a girl who was still recovering from stimulator implant surgery this time last year.

Friday signaled the end of the work week, but not the end of the work.  The first concert of the music series season was Friday night, and I made it home just in time to make the last frenzied preparations.  My patient, long-suffering husband was playing in the concert, as well as housing, chauffeuring, and feeding one of the musicians, which meant that his week was a blur, too.  With the help of friends and family, everything went off without a hitch.  The concert was beautiful and we hosted a reception afterward.  Then we collapsed into bed, relieved at the thought of a relaxing weekend.

Saturday did not disappoint.  I never left the house, nor did I put on a pair of shoes.  We spent the morning visiting with my parents, who had come into town for the concert. For the rest of the day, we cheered on our favorite baseball and college football teams.  We were too tired to leave the house for dinner, or even to order out, so we decided to scrounge up something to eat from the meager supplies in our pantry and fridge.  Of course, the word "scrounge" takes on a different meaning when you are married to a retired chef.  Saturday night, it meant homemade pizza.  I love nights when we scrounge up dinner.

While I expected to feel the effects of the week on Saturday, I was surprised by how bad my foot felt.  As the day progressed, it was obvious that something wasn't right, but it took awhile to figure it out.  Finally, it hit me that I couldn't feel the stimulator. I know, that sounds ridiculous.  But as you know, the vibration is positional, which means the intensity changes (sometimes drastically) as I move and shift.  In addition, sometimes I still have "phantom" vibrations for quite awhile after I turn off the stimulator.  But here's the weird thing...I never turned off the stimulator.  As you know, there have been times I've turned it off and forgotten to turn it back on.  But not this time.  I am 100% certain I did not turn it off.  And I know I could feel it Friday night.  But I got out the remote control to check it, and it was definitely off.  I turned it back on and started feeling better within minutes.  

I have no idea what happened.  It has worked as expected since then.  All I know is that my stimulator finally has a name...HAL.  http://youtu.be/7qnd-hdmgfk

9/20/15. The post where I talk about gate control theory.

9/20/15: not many changes since the last time I posted.  I continue to stay busy and my flare up continues, although it hasn't gotten worse.  One thing that has changed? I have retired from playing handbells. (In case you are wondering, the pension for retired bell players is not great.)  I've had increasing physical difficulty playing over the last few seasons and we finally rounded up enough new players for me to make a graceful exit.  While I will miss my fellow players, I'm not sorry to have gained a free evening every week. Which I have currently filled again with rehearsals for the musical, but that will only last another month. After that, who knows what I'll do with my free time? Probably something crazy and decadent. Like laundry.

I know what some of you are thinking. Maybe I could stand to do a little less and rest a little more.  So, let's talk about "gate control theory."  I will save you the trouble of looking it up. I tried to find a link to a simple explanation, but everything out there about it on the interwebs is too nerdy, even for me, so here's my version.  Gate control theory is a pain theory stating that there are "gates" controlling pain signals to your brain, and you can close the gates (temporarily) by sending conflicting signals.  My spinal cord stimulator works on this theory.  By flooding my brain with motion/vibration signals, it keeps some of the pain signals from going through.  (As you know from previous posts, the trade off is feeling like my foot is stuck in an electrical socket.  Frankly, it's a pretty good trade off.)

I think my lifestyle takes gate control theory to its logical (some would say absurd) conclusion.  Staying physically and mentally occupied helps me block out pain signals.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.  Sure, there are times where my pain level gets high enough that it doesn't work.  But right now is not one of those times, so I am taking advantage of it.  

For instance, last night my patient, long-suffering husband and I went to a concert. As spectators, not participants.  A modern concert in a huge hall, complete with flashing lights and pounding bass, where we stood on a concrete floor with 2,000 other people for three hours.  If only it had been outside in an ice storm, it would have included every possible trigger for a flare up. Most people would agree that it wasn't a wise choice for me.  Fortunately, I am not most people.  Because we had a great time.  Did it hurt? Yes. But not any worse than it would have hurt if I'd spent the night sitting on the couch instead. So, maybe there is something to this gate control theory, after all.

9/12/15. The post where I insist on having a good day.

9/12/15: the long-awaited "cool front" finally came in last night.  The temperature only dropped ten degrees, but more importantly, the humidity is gone, which made me do my happy dance. While the front was strong enough to make the humidity disappear, it was not strong enough to make my flare up disappear.  At least not with the same speed.

Both feet were in a bad way this morning, it was a rare Saturday with almost nothing on the calendar, and all I wanted to do was stay in bed all day and whine.  But I didn't.  I know from experience that doesn't really do any good.  So I got up and fixed myself a decadent breakfast.  Then I resolved to stay busy and enjoy the beautiful day.  I walked two miles.  (Which, I assure you, felt miserable physically but great emotionally.)  I ran errands in the convertible with the top down. I did a bunch of household chores. Then, when I'd had enough, I sat on the patio with a glass of wine and looked out at the city, reminding myself how lucky I am.

My day isn't over. My patient, long-suffering husband has a gig tonight, so I am going to a concert.  Afterward, we and our musician guest have a date with college football.  Thank goodness for DVR.  This is the worst I've felt in awhile, but it's also the nicest day I've had in awhile.  What a difference ten degrees make.

9/11/15. The post where I wish it would rain...until it does.

9/11/15: I've spent the last few weeks ramping back up to whirling dervish mode.  In addition to work, the music series, rehearsals, and other commitments, it's time for the annual charity musical.  Which I agreed to do, of course, because I don't always exercise good judgment when it comes to my calendar. On Tuesday, I ate all three meals at my desk at work.  I am going to try not to make that a habit.

The skies have been threatening rain for almost two weeks, which has resulted in a mini-flare up.  While it has been manageable, I've been wishing for the rain to hurry up, in hopes of getting rid of the humidity.  Every day I have checked the forecast, only to be disappointed.  Finally, it rained a little on Wednesday evening.  Which just made the humidity worse.  So much for my little theory.

Thursday was a busy day.  I was having a few friends over after work, and then we had a musician staying with us for an upcoming concert. This isn't my first rodeo, so I knew exactly how much time I needed to prepare.  I just needed to leave work 30 minutes early for a quick run to the grocery store and I could have everything ready before anyone arrived.  I was able to make my getaway on time and I knew exactly what I needed at the store. So far, so good.

As I stood in line at the checkout, I heard a thunderclap.  Uh, oh.  Then another.  Then the heavens burst open.  By the time I checked out and pushed my cart to the store entrance, it was jammed full of people watching the storm. People who weren't expecting guests at their house in 20 minutes.  After a few minutes of hesitation, I hiked my grocery bags onto my shoulders and prepared to brave the deluge.  At least I had an umbrella in my purse.

Or should I say, half an umbrella.  It has been so long since it last rained, I forgot that my umbrella had suffered a disfiguring accident.  Several of the ribs were bent and the fabric was torn on one side.  Oh well, it would have to do.  As I stood just under the awning, in my work clothes and heels, with grocery bags on both shoulders and a mangled umbrella over my head, I asked the crowd to wish me luck.  As most people laughed or wished me luck, someone helpfully said, "Don't try to run!"  Excellent advice, actually. I stepped out and slogged through water higher than my shoes across the parking lot to my car.  By the time I loaded my bags and got into the car, I was soaked, the inside of my car was soaked, and most of my groceries were soaked.  But I made it.  As I left the parking lot, I flashed my onlookers the V for Victory sign.  In my mind, they were all cheering me on. But more than likely, they were shaking their heads and posting pictures of me on their social media. #lunatic

I made it home, dried off myself and my groceries, and still had things ready(ish) by the time everyone got there.  The storm only lasted long enough for me to drive home, so my guests were dry when they arrived.  A fine time was had by all.  And guess what? It is still humid today, and my flare up has not abated.  I'm done wishing for rain.

8/26/15. The post where Mom reminds me how to fight like a girl.

8/26/15: trying to get back into the swing of things.  We got home from our vacation Friday night and immediately shifted back into panic mode.  Houseguests, hosting a charity wine tasting event, and then beginning final preparations for our upcoming annual music series fundraising gala.  After a whirlwind weekend, going to the office Monday morning was almost a relief.  Almost. 

My foot hasn't been any happier about returning from vacation than I have been.  A combination of wearing "real" shoes, daily workouts, humidity, and frenzied activity has caused a fairly decent flare up. But nothing I can't handle. Because I am my mother's daughter.  

Mom finished her last radiation treatment today.  We didn't know until yesterday that today would be the last one.  You may remember from my last post that she'd had a setback. I didn't share any details then, but at the end of what was supposed to be six weeks of radiation, her medical team discovered they had not been radiating exactly the right location, so the tumor was not gone.  They gave her the option of taking a break to recover while they worked out plan B.  But taking a break is not what she had in mind.  She didn't miss a day of treatment.  They recalculated the radiation points and she muscled through.  Which was a good decision, because the new points worked like a charm.  And today, we got an email with a subject line that said, "We got it!"  Best email ever.  Maybe not the end of the story, but the end of a chapter.  And what a great way to end it!

You're never too old to learn a life lesson from your mom.  You're also never too old to learn a new song from your mom.  You may know it already, but here is a link for times when you need a fight song:

http://youtu.be/xo1VInw-SKc.  (Sorry you have to watch an ad. Guess it's the price we pay for all this fancy technology.)  Bring it on, RSD.  'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me.  

8/19/15. The post where I tell you about my trip.

8/19/15: whew.  It's been an eventful two weeks.  My patient, long-suffering husband and I left nearly two weeks ago to celebrate his numerically significant birthday.  The road goes on forever and the party never ends.

We've driven several thousand miles.  We've visited siblings - his and mine.  We've eaten some wonderful food and seen some beautiful scenery.  We've tasted a lot of wine.  We've purchased a lot of wine.  We've hauled a lot of wine in and out of hotel rooms.  It's been an epic journey.  Two more days of driving and we'll be home.  Just in time for a really busy fall. We will probably spend the next few months eating ramen noodles and living on love, but it was worth it. There are lots of stories to tell, but I will save them for a rainy day.  And based on what we've seen over the last two weeks, much of this country could use a rainy day.

Lots of things have happened while we have been enjoying our trip.  Mom has had a setback and will have to undergo additional radiation.  A musician friend is nearing the end of a valiant fight with brain cancer.  An acquaintance whose daughter is dealing with RSD and other medical issues had a house fire while she was at the hospital with her daughter.  Makes my complaints seem even pettier than usual.

Frankly, I haven't had too many complaints, at least where my feet are concerned. I've had a few ups and downs, but for the most part, hot and dry weather seems to agree with RSD.  And I know for sure that my stimulator is working. Guess how I know?  Because I had the brilliant idea to turn it off for a few hours today.  Even after changing the program a few times over the course of the trip, I was becoming a little annoyed by the vibrations and I was starting to get pretty frequent foot cramps, which I attributed to the stimulator.  I was feeling well enough that I thought I would try going without it.  Not a good idea. Things were okay in the car, but as soon as I tried to step on it, my foot quickly reminded me that I have the stimulator for a reason.  I turned it back on, but the damage was done.  Hoping I can get a good night's sleep and wake up refreshed for the final leg of our journey.  But even if I don't, at least I have enough good memories to last a lifetime.  Oh, and about ten cases of wine...

8/3/15. The post where I try not to screw up anything.

8/3/15: first decent night of sleep in more than a week.  And as a result, I woke up even more tired than usual.  But I forgot all about being tired pretty quickly after getting to work. This was one of those crazy, stressful, multitasking Mondays.  At one point, I found myself talking on the phone with one colleague while texting another colleague while proofreading a document on my computer.  As far as I know, I didn't screw up anything.

After work, I did some filming for a short film project in my acting class.  We are making a five minute short film and so far, we've done about three hours of filming.  (Now I see why movies take so long to make and cost so much.)  We were filming outside in the heat and I was in full costume, including a wig, so it was all I could do to concentrate on my lines and not sweat off all my makeup.  As far as I know, I didn't screw up anything.

The next few days will be busy as well, in part because we are about to go on a trip to celebrate my patient, long-suffering husband's birthday, which is a significant one.  I won't tell you how old he will be out of respect for his privacy, but I can tell you it starts with a 5, ends with a 0, and rhymes with "shifty." There is a lot to do between now and then, and I hope I don't screw up anything. 

Technically, I guess I have screwed up one thing. Or at least, my feet have. It's time to admit I am having a full-on flare up.  I'm still only in the 5-6 range in my right foot and 2-3 in my left foot, but after having such good fortune for awhile, it feels worse.  Hoping it's just a temporary setback, because I have too many other things to not screw up.

8/2/15. The post where I rest...sort of.

8/2/15: on Thursday night, I was feeling pretty confident, but by Friday morning I was nervous.  Even sitting in the office in my comfiest sandals, both feet were cranky and the stimulator wasn't doing much good. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to spend all afternoon on my feet getting ready for the party and then actually make it through the party.

But never fear, my patient, long-suffering husband came to the rescue, as always.  By the time I got home from my half-day at work, he had gotten the house ready, cleaned out both fridges, and done all the grocery shopping.  I'm not the only tornado in our tiny family.  Because of all his hard work, we were able to spend the afternoon prepping at a leisurely pace, with frequent rest stops (at least, for me).  A few friends arrived early to help with last-minute work and we were ready to party!

We had a great time, and we think our guests did, too.  I feel very fortunate to know so many nice (and fun) people.  It was a late night, but some guests stayed to help us clean up afterward, which made Saturday morning much more bearable. I spent Saturday finishing the clean-up, rehearsing with my acting partner, and having dinner with my patient, long-suffering husband's parents.  Today included church, errands, and chores.  All in all, a pretty restful weekend, at least by my standards.

My left foot feels much better after some rest, but for my right foot, the magic is officially gone.  I even went back to the stimulator program that worked so well last time, with no luck.  RSD continues to confound me.  But I am in good company.  It also continues to confound everyone who is diagnosed with it and the doctors who treat it.  My life lesson in patience continues...

7/30/15. The post where I spread myself too thin.

7/30/15: yes, I know, the title of this post could apply to just about any day of my life.  But this week was classic Valerie.  Here's what I've been up to since I last posted:

Monday - work, rehearsal for acting class

Tuesday - work, happy hour (to see friends who are on a brief visit back to town after moving to Germany about a year ago), acting class

Wednesday - out of town all day on business (four hours of driving, six hours of meetings), back home just in time for a late night video shoot for our music series

Thursday - work, grocery shopping, cooking and prep work for a party we are having tomorrow

Yes, I know, other than work, all the busyness is self-imposed.  And yes, I know, the first step on the road to recovery is admitting you have a problem.  I'm a pro at the first step, I just never seem to make it to the second step, whatever that is.  While I firmly believe all this activity didn't cause my most recent flare-up (because I was also this busy while I was feeling well), I'm sure it isn't helping, either.  

Nor is the lack of sleep.  I haven't managed to spend enough time in my bed this week, but more annoyingly, the time I have spent in bed hasn't been very productive.  Right now, the freeway near our home sounds a construction zone, because...well...it is a construction zone.  In theory, I appreciate them doing the work in the middle of the night to lessen the impact on traffic, but since I don't travel on the freeway during rush hour, it doesn't really benefit me. I feel like I'm taking one (or five) for the team. You're welcome.

I've tried three or four different stimulator programs this week and none of them have matched the magic program.  Less pain relief, more irritating vibration patterns.  Not a winning combination.  Still, I held it together pretty well for most of the week.  Tonight was the worst I have felt in a long while, and unfortunately, it was both feet.  I'm hoping they will feel better tomorrow.  All I have to do is work half a day.  Oh, and entertain about 60 people.  No worries - I've got this.

7/26/15. The post where my luck runs out.

7/26/15: it was a good run.  And I knew it wouldn't last forever.  For the last few days, I have had some brief periods where I felt like the dam was about to burst.  And today, it burst.  I went to the grocery store after church, and when I got home my foot was red and swollen.  Worst of both worlds - pain plus pins and needles.  Time to change the program.

I changed the program.  A few times.  But the magic is gone.  I shouldn't complain, it's still only about a 4.  I have this brilliant vision where I change programs for a few days and then go back to the magic one.  And in my vision, it works again. We'll see...

7/22/15. The post where I walk faster.

7/22/15: prior to my blogging hiatus, I had just started really working out again for the first time since my surgery.  I continued the trend during the hiatus, with a few breaks for flare ups and nerve blocks.  I even rode 20 miles in a charity cycling event.  I was very happy to ride and proud that I made it to the finish line, but I'm not anxious to do it again, at least in the near future.  It felt like my pedals were covered in metal spikes.  (#terribleproductideas)  I decided I'd better concentrate on walking for awhile.  

I have returned to walking two miles every morning and I'm walking my previous, hilly route rather than on a flat track.  My speed, however, has not increased significantly.  In fact, my walking has been more like this:  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=XYoBOhZvBEw. So this week, I decided it was time to do something about it.  I understand that I will probably never get back to my pre-RSD fitness level, but I'm going to keep trying.

The first step (Get it? "Step"? I kill myself...) is to concentrate.  While some people listen to music when walking or jogging, I use the quiet time to solve the world's problems.  Which may be good for the world, but it's not so good for my stamina.  The more I think, the more slowly I walk.  Guess multi-tasking is not my thing.  But for the last four days, I have spent my walks concentrating on increasing my speed and heart rate.  And it seems to be working.  I've taken two minutes per mile off my walk and my heart rate is staying consistently higher.  Sorry world, you are going to have to solve your own problems for awhile.

Does walking faster hurt? Yes, it hurts. But not any more than walking slowly. Or sitting.  And my pain level has continued to be mercifully low over the last few weeks, so I am taking advantage of it.  I feel certain that at some point my current stimulator strategy will cease to be effective, but so far, so good. For a brief period this afternoon I thought about turning off the stimulator for awhile to give myself a break from the pins and needles, but I lost my nerve.  I'm going to keep riding this wave for as long as I can.  And no lollygagging.

7/19/15. The post where I talk about my stimulator.

7/19/15: still hanging in there with my current stimulator setting.  A little background, since it's been awhile...the stimulator sends vibrations down my affected nerve in varying patterns and amplitudes, depending on the setting I choose.  The vibrations are meant to drown out the pain signals and keep my brain occupied.  I've had the stimulator since last September and I've had varying degrees of success, partially because I'm not that crazy about the sensation caused by the stimulator.  It's like the "pins and needles" you get when your foot falls asleep and then you stand up and walk on it.  Admittedly, that is a lot better than pain, but I have resisted it.

The stimulator is also "positional."  I will probably date myself for a second time this week, but the best explanation I can give is that it is like the static you hear if you bend a wire on your stereo speaker or radio antenna.  (Oh dear...only Gen Xers and hipsters will have any idea what I mean by that.)  Any time I change positions or shift my weight, the amplitude of the vibration changes, sometimes exponentially.  This is very disconcerting for a person who values being in control at all times.  But after a tough winter and spring, I decided a few weeks ago to go all in.  After all, having the stimulator implanted was an ordeal - physically, mentally, and financially. I might as well get the most I can out of it.

My previous strategy was to turn the stimulator up to a point where I could barely feel it, which meant that when I changed positions, it sometimes shocked me.  My new strategy is to find a setting I can live with and turn it up to a point where it shocks me constantly, which means that when I change positions, it sometimes stops shocking me.  And guess what?  It seems to be working.  Other than a few brief moments, my pain level is the lowest it has been in recent memory. 

RSD is a serious diva.  I know it is waiting, just below the surface, for a chance to be in the spotlight again.  Just this morning, while I was still in bed, I purposely moved into a position where the stimulator stopped vibrating, because every now and then it gets overwhelming.  Within ten minutes, the pain was back.  Guess the vibrations are not so bad after all.  

p.s. In the category of "things that really matter," yesterday the South African team (dramatically and improbably) won a stage of the Tour de France on Nelson Mandela Day.  And Mom has finished her first week of radiation, with very few side effects.  One week down, five to go. 

7/16/15. The post where I have an unexpected victory.

7/16/15: today was the first day of my annual continuing education class.  At the risk of dating myself, this is the 22nd year I have taken this particular class.  (Yep, I just dated myself.)  However, the location changed two years ago.  And when I walked into the room today, I made a surprising discovery.

The room is laid out like a modern college classroom - an auditorium style with long tables that stair-step down to a stage in the front.  The top row of seats, closest to the entrance, have a sign saying they are reserved for the "mobility impaired."  Two years ago, the first time the class was held in this location, I was wearing the "long" boot to recover from what my doctor thought was just a broken bone in my foot.  So I sat in the mobility impaired row.

Last year, the class started a day after I had a surgical procedure to install the trial spinal cord stimulator for a week to see if it would provide any relief.  I had two incisions in my back with wires coming out that attached to the stimulator on my belt.  And...oh yeah...I almost forgot...unbelievably horrific foot pain, which was why I was trying out a stimulator.  So I sat in the mobility impaired row.

This morning, I walked into the classroom and headed straight toward the mobility impaired row. And suddenly I realized, I don't have to sit there! I can sit anywhere I want.  So I proudly walked down several steps and sat in the middle of the room.  Sometimes it's the little things.

7/15/15. The post where I share random thoughts.

7/15/15: I am too tired tonight to come up with a coherent post, so here are a few random thoughts to enjoy:

- I walk two miles every morning before work, and at this time of year I see a lot of deer on my walk. Right now, I regularly see five fawns with their moms...two sets of twins and a single.  I am always surprised that our small, fairly urban area can support so many fawns each year, but it certainly makes my walk more interesting.

- Last night, I made a cake and frosting from scratch for a get-together after work today.  I don't do that very often, but I'm always glad when I do.  I won't win any cake decorating contests any time soon, but it tasted great and everyone seemed to enjoy it.

- I am in a continuing education class for the next two days.  It's the same class I take every year and frankly, it's not that interesting, but after a tedious and tiring work week, I am looking forward to it.

- The Tour de France continues to be fascinating.  If you've never seen it, you should watch at least one stage.  Lots of crashes, injuries, surprise finishes, and unexpected turns of events.  In my wildest dreams, I can't imagine riding it.  It's amazing what crazy things human beings will do.  And I'm just talking about the spectators.  

- I feel like I'm finally getting the hang of my stimulator.  But it could also be the fact that the weather has been consistently hot and sunny for the last week or so.  I'm still getting a lot of crazy color patterns, but my pain level has been very manageable, so I can live with the colors.  

- And speaking of colors, apparently a lot of people have missed knowing what color nail polish I am wearing. (And the really interesting part is how many of those people are men.)  For those inquiring minds, I am currently wearing The Thrill of Brazil from the OPI Brazil collection.  You're welcome.

- Any day that ends with a photo of your three year old nephew wearing underwear on his head is a good day.

7/14/15. The post where I am prescription-free again.

7/14/15: my neck did not heal as quickly as I had hoped.  Monday morning I was still in a lot of pain, so I made plans to go back to the doctor to talk about plan B.  The pain medicine my doctor had prescribed did not appear to be doing anything (other than making me loopy, which as you know is my usual reaction), so I quit taking it.  I went to work, resolving to call the doctor's office as soon as it opened.

And then a funny thing happened.  I got really busy working and when I finally looked up, it was lunchtime and I realized I felt exponentially better.  So, I didn't need a plan B after all. I was really surprised, because I expected it to improve gradually, not in a sudden burst.  But I'll take it.  And the really good news is that I'm off the pain medication and I feel like a human again.  A sleepy human, because after a week of medication-assisted sleep, I didn't feel much like sleeping Monday night, but it was a small price to pay.

Mom started her radiation treatment Monday and so far, all is well.  (We were a little disappointed to learn that it was not enough radiation to give her superpowers.  Fortunately, she kept the receipt for her Spiderwoman suit, so she can return it.)  Two treatments down, 28 to go.  For the rest of us, it will be over quickly, although I know it seems like an eternity for her.  But she'll deal with it like a champ, because that's how she rolls.

I'm still having fairly good luck with my foot.  As I mentioned earlier, I have found a comfortable setting on my stimulator, where I can turn it up to a higher amplitude without going nuts.  Eventually, it will stop being effective and I'll have to change it, but for the moment it ain't broke, so I won't fix it.  The only real issue I've had in the last week was after a grocery store trip this evening.  For some reason, grocery store trips are always an issue.  But after a bit of rest on the couch with a glass of champagne to celebrate Bastille Day, I feel much better.  Vive la France!

7/12/15. The post where I rest.

7/12/15: today was a day of rest.  My neck and shoulder aren't healing as quickly as I had hoped, so I decided to take it easy.  You already know, so I don't have to tell you that I worry at the first sign of an injury, because it is important to heal quickly before the CRPS spreads. So I rested.  My only activity today was attending a friend's pool party.  I spent the afternoon dipping my feet in the pool, chatting with friends I haven't seen in awhile, and snacking.  The next week is going to be filled with activity, so it was nice to have a quiet, restful day.  

My foot has felt surprisingly good for the last week.  The weather has stabilized, I have found a comfortable setting on my stimulator, and I am taking pain medication for my neck. Not sure which is the cause, or if it is a combination of several things, but I am not asking questions.  No point in looking a gift horse in the mouth...or a gift rabbit...  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=yMyQJAuiYSw

7/11/15. The post where I tell you about my foot tent.

7/11/15: just returned from a quick visit to see my parents.  And this time, we made it back without wrecking my patient, long-suffering husband's car.  Mom starts her radiation on Monday and she's ready to put it in the "done" column.  Five days a week for six weeks. Her doctor is very confident the radiation will take care of the issue - so confident that he used the word "definitely." (Note to Mom's doctor: if you are going to use the word "definitely" when talking to her about treatments, you'd better hope you are right, because her memory is excellent and she will never let you forget it if you are wrong.)

Since it was a very brief trip, I didn't need to pack much, but I did forget one important thing...my foot tent. What is a foot tent, you ask?  I had the same question two months ago.  Those of you who were reading before my hiatus know that I was having a lot of trouble sleeping because it hurt my foot to have the covers touching it.  The odd sleeping positions I found myself in trying to keep anything from touching my foot while still trying to keep it warm would be great practice if I wanted to join a traveling carnival as a contortionist, but they weren't so great for getting a good night's sleep.

As usual, my patient, long-suffering husband saved the day.  He decided he was going to make some kind of frame that would attach to the end of the bed and shield my foot from the covers.  Fortunately, he decided to check the Internet first, because apparently I am not the only person to ever have this issue.  There are multiple products available for sale on the World Wide Web, so he ordered one as a surprise for me.  And what a great surprise!  Here are a couple of photos to show you what it looks like and how it works:

The bottom end of the metal piping fits between your mattress and box springs.

Then you put the top sheet and cover over the rest of the piping. Voila!  Couldn't be easier.  When I get into bed, my feet stay warm because they are under the covers, but nothing is touching them.  I love mine so much that my patient, long-suffering husband got me a smaller, collapsible version for travel.  I took it on our Italy trip and it was a lifesaver.  A lifesaver for my family, because it kept their tour guide from being grouchy and irritable every day.

While I forgot to take it to my parents' house, I still slept pretty well.  Maybe because I am taking medication right now that makes me sleepy all the time.  Just the same, I am happy to be reunited with  my foot tent tonight.  

7/7/15. The post where I learn a lesson in pain management.

7/7/15: for the most part, it was a really nice holiday weekend.  The only issue?  Somehow I managed to strain my left trapezoid muscle on Friday.  Not quite sure how or when it happened, but I suspect I was doing something heroic, like taking dishes out of the dishwasher or putting on my seatbelt.  Welcome to middle age.  

As you know, I'm accustomed to living with daily pain and I feel like my tolerance is pretty high, so I decided to give it a little time to heal on its own, much to my patient, long-suffering husband's chagrin.  But a few days of heating pads and aspirin didn't do the trick, so I gave in and went to the doctor's office this morning, where I got an official diagnosis and a couple of prescriptions.  I have to admit that while it is a relief to deal with a medical issue that looks like it will be resolved in a matter of days, it is still frustrating.

Watching the Tour de France is certainly giving me perspective, though.  The cyclist in me loves watching the Tour every year and I nearly always pick a favorite rider early on.  This year I picked Fabian Cancellara from Switzerland, who is riding his last Tour before retiring.  He's a great cyclist and seems like a nice guy, and it appeared he had a good chance to win in his final year.  (The fact that he is not difficult to look at had nothing to do with my decision, I assure you.)  In fact, as of stage 2 of the race, he was the overall leader and got to wear the yellow jersey for stage 3 yesterday.  

Stage 3 didn't go so well.  Midway through the stage, there was a huge crash involving multiple riders who were riding at approximately 40 mph.  (For comparison purposes, on my very best day on completely flat surfaces, I'm lucky to average about 13 mph.)  http://www.theguardian.com/sport/video/2015/jul/06/tour-de-france-crash-riders-injured-video. In the video, you can see Cancellara (wearing the yellow jersey) fly over his handlebars.  After receiving a bit of medical attention, he got back on his bike and rode another 40 miles, in obvious pain, to finish the stage.  After he finished the stage, he went to the hospital, where doctors discovered he had two broken vertebrae.  He had to withdraw from the Tour today, as did several other riders who were also injured in the crash.  When asked why he finished the stage yesterday, he said he wanted to "honor the yellow jersey."  Wow.  I suppose it wouldn't kill me to get up off the couch and do a load of laundry.  

  

7/2/15. The post where I tell you a crazy (and disgusting) story.

7/2/15: today was Thursday, but it felt like Friday because I have the day off tomorrow.  To celebrate the upcoming three day weekend, I went to lunch with some colleagues.  And we saw a crazy thing. (Those of you with weak stomachs may want to quit reading now.) 

We were eating at a local pizza joint and our table was right beside a full-length window, looking out onto the outdoor patio.  A man was sitting at a picnic table just a few feet from me, separated from me only by the window.  There was a pitcher of beer on his table and he was drinking beer from a glass while he talked on his cell phone.  My colleagues and I were eating our pizza and chatting, when suddenly I saw something out of the corner of my eye.  I looked out the window and saw him (brace yourselves) projectile vomit all over the pavement.  And that was not the crazy thing. The crazy thing was that after he finished, he immediately put the phone back to his ear and continued his conversation.  I'm not sure the person on the other end of the phone even knew what happened.

My colleagues and I sat at our table, stunned.  I got a takeout box for the rest of my pizza.  There would be no more eating for me after that.  (In fact, I could barely eat dinner tonight.)  We stayed at the restaurant for another twenty minutes, marveling over what we had just witnessed and when we left, he was still there.  In fact, he was chatting with the occupants of the table next to his, who arrived after his episode and appeared to be unaware of it.  I have to give him credit.  If I suddenly found myself staring down at the former contents of my stomach in a public place, it would be game over.  I would be curled up in a ball in the ladies room in a combination of agony and embarrassment, calling my patient, long-suffering husband to come pick me up. (At the very least, I would have immediately ended my call and started searching for a damp paper towel.)  But it didn't seem to phase this man at all.  I'm going to guess it isn't the first time this has happened to him.

I fully intended to write today in more detail about some of my experiences during my hiatus, but frankly, I can't get this out of my mind.  And now, neither can you.  Sorry.  Some of you who encouraged me to start writing again are probably regretting that right about now.  But look on the bright side.  At least I didn't post a photo.

7/1/15. The post where they pull me back in.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=UPw-3e_pzqU

I haven't posted in more than three months.  And boy, has the time flown by.  So many things have happened since my last post. I spent three weeks in Italy with my entire family.  Mom finished her second round of chemo, just in time for the aforementioned Italy trip.  My patient, long-suffering husband started eating real food again, just in time for the aforementioned Italy trip.  I bought new shoes, just in time for...well, you get the picture.  It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for our family and we made the most of it.  We're all still speaking to each other and no one died, so I'd say it was a success.

What else has happened since my last post? Doctor visits, and lots of them.  I had let a lot of things slide while I struggled with the initial search for a diagnosis and the subsequent treatment.  I have been tested, poked, and prodded by every specialist recommended for a woman my age and I can now say that I am completely healthy.  As long as you don't count that incurable nerve disorder, of course...

The one bit of bad medical news I got was an official confirmation that the CRPS had spread to my left foot.  This was not a surprise, but I had hoped I was mistaken.  The good news? Since I caught it much earlier this time, a couple of nerve blocks have kept it almost completely in check for the last month.  And I hope it stays that way.

My right foot has had a series of ups and downs.  In most cases, the "downs" have been related to weather changes, or intense periods of walking and standing, or a combination of the two.  For instance, three hours in the Vatican museum as a huge thunderstorm rolls into Rome will definitely create a "down."  I also learned the hard way last week that accidentally turning my spinal cord stimulator off for three days is not a good idea.  (Don't ask...)

I needed the break from blogging, but over the last few weeks I have been contemplating a return and coincidentally, I've had several requests from friends and family to start it up again, so here I am.  Not sure I can keep it up every day, so I'd recommend subscribing by email if you want to know when I have posted. (I have no way of seeing who has subscribed, so no need to worry about me selling your email address to strangers.)  Thanks for sticking with me. Ciao!

3/27/15. The post where I decide to take a break.

3/27/15: to blog or not to blog...that is the question.  And the answer is that it is time for me to take a break.  I've been at this for more than a year and I admire the patience of those of you who are still reading.  It's been a great therapy for me, but right now I need to focus my energy in several other places, including trying to get healthy again. I will still check in from time to time with updates and new information. And the occasional crazy story.  It just won't be a daily ritual, at least for awhile.  In the meantime, I will leave you with this good advice from my friend Ferris Bueller:  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=91lJhEzMaH4

3/25/15. The post where I get an unpleasant surprise.

3/25/15: today was about as normal as it gets.  Didn't spend enough time sleeping last night, but that is nothing unusual.  Took my walk and went to work, where I had a rare quiet catch-up day in the office.  The weather was beautiful, so I rode around all day with the top down, despite the spring pollen in the air.  Hope I don't regret that.

I got home from work early enough to actually cook a little something for my dinner before choir rehearsal, which was a welcome change from the foraging I've been doing for the last few weeks.  We ate outside on the patio again.  My patient, long-suffering husband is on the countdown to the end of the "liquid" portion of his diet.  In about two weeks, he will begin the slow transition back to solid foods.  He has already lost about 35 pounds and looks amazing.  Now the pressure is on for me.  I am on a roll, though, and I hope to keep the numbers on the scale moving in the right direction.

While in general the weather forecast for the next week is great, a brief storm system is supposed to roll through for a few hours in the early morning.  I was disappointed by this news, because it means I may be back on the trainer instead of walking in the morning, but I didn't expect it to affect me physically.  In the late afternoon and evening, though, I started to notice some ramping up, and when I got home from rehearsal and took off my shoes, my toes were completely red and a little swollen.  But here's the inexplicable part - it was the toes on my left foot.  Admittedly, my left foot has hurt a little this week, which I've chalked up to the walking regime, but this threw me for a loop.  The color on my CRPS foot was fine, although it doesn't feel fine.  It took more than an hour of sitting with both feet propped up to bring the color of my left foot completely back to normal. 

By mid-morning, the sun should be out again, with no rain in the forecast for nearly a week.  It's not time to panic yet.  While I can't explain what happened, for the moment I am going to presume it is an isolated incident and hope it doesn't happen again.  But maybe missing the walk in the morning won't be such a bad thing, after all.

3/24/15. The post where I get a pleasant surprise.

3/24/15: back in the groove of walking every morning.  While my foot is still not sure what it thinks about this turn of events, the rest of me is enjoying it quite a bit.  Looks like the weather will hold for the rest of the week, which means there is a good chance I can put in a full week of walking for the first time since my surgery last September.  On my old hilly route, at my old quick pace.  Just like the old days.  Never thought I'd be so excited to use the word "old" so many times.  But it feels like a big deal.

Another legislative workgroup meeting today, which meant another search for a suit that fits.  Which usually ends in about five skirts and pairs of pants strewn on the closet floor and a renewed vow to stay on my diet.  With the change in weather, my search focused on spring suits for the first time in a while.  And I got a pleasant surprise.

I found a really cute suit that I had no recollection of having purchased, let alone having worn previously.  But clearly I must have purchased and worn it, because there it hung in my closet with dry cleaning tags attached.  So I closed my eyes, held my breath, and tried it on.  Score!  It fit perfectly, which would not have been the case even two weeks ago.  And even better, I was able to wear a matching pair of heels that I probably haven't been able to wear in a year and a half.  The day was a success before I even left the house.

After work, I stopped by to visit some friends who were taste-testing champagne for their upcoming wedding.  Because that's the kind of friend I am.  Always trying to help others.  Especially when it involves sampling champagne.  Then it was off to acting class for the rest of the evening.  Here's hoping tomorrow is as good a day.  Cheers.

3/23/15. The post where it feels like spring.

3/23/15: today seemed like a real spring day.  I walked again before work.  It's good that I've been able to ride my trainer during the bad weather, but to regain my pre-CRPS muscle tone and stamina (presuming that is possible), I really need to be out walking in the hills again.  And then biking in the hills.  One step at a time, though.  (Get it? One "step" at a time? When I'm referring to walking? I crack myself up.)  The walk felt pretty good both yesterday and this morning, and I am nearly back up to my former speed.  My foot is a little cranky tonight and I suspect it is from the walking, but I hope that will decrease as I regain strength.  And it may not all be CRPS-related.  Frankly, my other foot is also sore, as are my hips, but it is a "good" kind of sore, the kind you expect when you restart an exercise program after a period of inactivity.  So at this point, I am not too concerned.

The best part of my day?  Picking up my patient, long-suffering husband at the airport after a long week apart.  The weather was beautiful, there were wildflowers everywhere, and we were together, so we enjoyed the drive back home despite the horrendous traffic.  We ate dinner on the patio and drove to handbell practice with the top down on the car.  Order has been restored to the universe.  

3/22/15. The post where the sun finally shows itself.

3/22/15: the sun beat my patient, long-suffering husband home by a full day.   And it made for a beautiful day. I was able to take a long walk this morning and then sing in church. Thankfully, it was a short anthem.  While my jaw is feeling a lot better, it will take awhile to completely heal.  After church I had a delicious brunch with a friend.  And then, for the first time all week, I had a free calendar all afternoon.  It felt so decadent.  I did a few chores, caught up on mail, emails, and phone calls, and then sat out on the patio with a glass of wine and enjoyed the sunset.  And just in case you are wondering, while I was AWOL from my blog earlier this week I got a manicure.  "This Color's Making Waves" from the OPI Hawaii Collection.  The perfect way to welcome spring.

The warmer weather has made a big difference with my foot, and the end of the rain has helped even more.  Most of the day it felt great.  I had a little incident tonight, though, that reminded me of how the new "normal" works.  I was walking around the house barefoot and stubbed my right big toe on the corner of a piece of furniture. Granted, I stubbed it hard enough to draw a little blood and make a small tear in the nail.  But if it had been my left foot, it would have stung for a few minutes and that would have been the end of it.  

My right foot? A whole different story.  It always insists on being dramatic, turning everything into an epic struggle between good and evil.  All of my toes swelled up and turned red and splotchy, and the veins on the top of my foot nearly popped out of my skin.  I assure you, this reaction was completely unwarranted and I tried to shame it, rolling my eyes and saying, "Really???  Come on.  Grow up. It didn't hurt that much."  (The good thing about being alone in the house is that you can talk out loud to your foot if you want.)  But it refused to cooperate until I finally agreed to go to bed and prop it up on a pillow.  I feel like my foot is in its Terrible Twos. I hope this is just a phase.

3/21/15. The post where I manage to keep it together.

3/21/15: ...and I'm back.  Whew.  It's been a rough week.  As usual, much of it was my own doing, so I don't deserve to complain about it.  And there was a lot of good with the bad.  But the most important thing (in my opinion) is that I kept it together.  No breakdowns, no tantrums, no regrets.  

On Thursday, I traded my four-legged houseguest for a couple of two-legged ones, and the week of ups and downs culminated with a concert last night. A beautiful concert, punctuated with dramatic readings by my acting coach.  It was a stormy, miserable day and I feared no one would be there to see it, which would have been a real shame.  But my fears were unfounded.  People came, and they were not disappointed. I had a reception afterward for the musicians and friends that helped make the concert happen, which was a great way to unwind after the difficult week.  We stayed up way too late, and my house guests had a very early flight this morning, which is not always a winning combination.  But even though I am not as young as I used to be, I am still young enough to do that every now and then.

Which is a good thing, because today was my celebration day.  No chores, no work, no obligations.  A fun trip to the wine country with friends, stopping wherever we wanted to stop, eating whatever we wanted to eat, and enjoying the (cool rainy) day.  Exactly what I needed.  The only thing missing was my patient, long-suffering husband, whose concert is tomorrow. But I can make it.  We're in the home stretch.  He'll be back Monday afternoon. Which, coincidentally, is when the sun is scheduled to reappear.  My awesome rain boots have gotten a serious workout over the last few weeks and I'm hoping to put them away for a couple of days.  

My foot has behaved remarkably well during this time, although last night it started acting out a little, and my jaw is feeling much better.  Tomorrow I plan to try singing with the choir again and then I have lunch with a friend, so it should be a good test of whether I should consider my jaw healed.  I plan to get significantly more sleep tonight than last night, which should certainly help.  Thanks for being patient with me for a few days.  

3/18/15. The post where I excuse myself for a few days.

3/18/15: forgive me, but I need to excuse myself for a few days.  There is a lot going on right now, even by my standards, and I think I'd better concentrate on keeping all the balls in the air instead of writing about it.  I'll be back very soon, with lots of stories to tell.  In the meantime, here are two pretty photos I took this week to keep you company:

3/17/15. The post where I do feel like posting, but run out of time.

3/17/15: long, productive day.  Posting will have to wait until tomorrow.  Being a single dog foster parent while holding down a full-time job, a fledgling acting career, and a music series is hard.  But I can do it.  Goodnight, all...

3/16/15. The post where I don't feel much like posting.

3/16/15: I went back to work today, thinking it would be a quiet day, with most people gone for Spring Break.  That's what I get for thinking.  There was more than one occasion today where I was on a call on my office phone, texting on my work cell phone, and sending an email from my desktop.  You may call that multi-tasking. I call it a recipe for disaster.  I think I made it through the work day without any catastrophic errors.  But it didn't do wonders for my head or my jaw.

Not a great day on the home front, either.  We got the results back from Mom's biopsy, and she will resume treatment starting on Wednesday.  Prayers, happy thoughts, and good karma welcomed.  My patient, long-suffering husband leaves in the morning for a week of rehearsals and a concert in another state, but I won't be completely alone.  I'll have visiting musician house guests for a few days for a concert that is part of our music series, and as of tonight, I have my favorite four-legged house guest while my friends are on vacation.  

The rain returns tomorrow.  Guess how I know? I'll give you a hint - it's not because I checked the forecast.  I think it's time to give up on today and get some rest. Because, after all, tomorrow is another day...  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=R-OoIvgtuzs

3/15/15. The post where I rest a little more.

3/15/15: I skipped my middle of the night dose of muscle relaxant so I could get up and go to church this morning to sell tickets between services for an upcoming concert.  And things were going okay until I got there.  It still really hurts to talk, but it is just not in my DNA to be unfriendly.  So of course, I immediately started talking to people.  And things went downhill rapidly.  My patient, long-suffering husband and my BFFs conspired to take over for me so I could go back home and take my meds.

Apparently, it doesn't take long to build up a tolerance.  While I was still pretty groggy the rest of the day, I never fell asleep.   My patient, long-suffering husband had to make a day trip after church for a concert, so I spent most of the rest of the day alone, which was good for my jaw.  The only thing worse than talking right now is chewing, so I've tried to stick with softer foods.  Frankly, I haven't been very hungry anyway, which has been good for my diet.  In fact, I was too out of it to mention this yesterday, but I GET TO BUY NEW SHOES!  Friday, I hit the 10 pounds lost mark and completed my weight loss challenge.  The only person as happy about that as me is my friend who did the challenge with me and lost her 10 pounds months ago.  I have already decided, though, that after one shoe-buying spree, I am going on another challenge.  Ten more pounds will get me to what I weighed three years ago, when I thought I needed to lose five pounds.  Right now, I would be thrilled with that weight.  So, I'd better make the upcoming shoe purchase count, because it may be the last pair I get to buy for a long time.  

I think I have finally turned a corner and my jaw is not getting any worse.  I am planning to make it through the entire workday tomorrow, knowing that I have no evening obligations, so I can come home and take my medicine and rest all evening if necessary.  Don't tell my foot that, though.  It's still behaving pretty well, and I don't want it to see its chance to retake center stage.

3/14/15. The post where I rest a lot.

3/14/15:  on Friday, my jaw pain and headache continued to get worse, so I went back to the doctor. This time I was able to see my primary care physician.  After more poking, prodding, and motor skill tests, he determined that the muscles surrounding my jaw had completely tightened up.  I've had issues with my TMJ my entire adult life, so it doesn't surprise me.  He agreed with me that icing it was not a good idea because of the CRPS.  He suggested increasing my anti inflammatory intake and using a warm compress instead.  He also prescribed a muscle relaxant and a few days of rest.  He was a lot more specific about what he meant by "rest" and it was definitely not what I had been doing the last few days.  He told me to contact him if it wasn't feeling better after a few days and he would prescribe some physical therapy to try to loosen up the muscles.  Which doesn't sound particularly appealing, so I hope it doesn't come to that.

I cancelled most of my weekend plans, but months ago I had invited a few work colleagues over for drinks after work and finding a date we were all free had been difficult enough, so I didn't want to cancel it.  I left the doctor's office and picked up a few items at the grocery store while I waited for my prescription order to be filled.  When I picked up the prescription, the pharmacist gave me the details on the muscle relaxant. She warned me it would make me sleepy and light-headed.  She also added, while looking at my cart of groceries, that the best thing I could do is rest, to give my body time to make the needed repairs.  I think she, my doctor, and my patient, long-suffering husband are in cahoots.

After my colleagues left last night, I took my first muscle relaxant.  And everything has been a blur since then.  My doctor did a pretty good job of ensuring I get the kind of rest he wants me to have by his choice of muscle relaxant.  I have slept for a majority of the last 24 hours and when I have been awake, I've been in a stupor. (So forgive any typos or crazy talk, please.)  I don't think my jaw feels any better yet, but I certainly don't care about it as much.  I have a few church obligations in the morning that require me to be able to drive and do math, so I will postpone taking my medicine until I get home.  But then I will try to get some more rest so I can be back in the groove next week.  My foot has felt pretty good the last few days, and while it is probably a result of the warmer spring weather, I'd like to think it is being respectful of the fact that I have other issues right now.  Yeah, right...it is probably the weather.

3/12/15. The post where I rest a little.

3/12/15: finally had a few hours with nothing crucial going on at work, so I stayed home this morning to rest. I can't say for sure that it did any good, but I don't think I would have been much help at work anyway, and at least now I can say I've done one thing the doctor asked me to do.  Today was the worst day so far and I'm hoping it was the high (or low) point.

This afternoon it was back to work for a legislative work group meeting.  Which is a recipe for a headache even on the best day.  I made it through the meeting without my face exploding and headed back home for my weekly Lenten group meeting.  It was a nice evening as always, with a delicious and healthy meal and interesting conversation.  My patient, long-suffering husband has been completely booked this week with performances and rehearsals, but we got a few minutes tonight to catch up before I had to throw in the towel and call it a night.

I'm going to try to get a little more rest tomorrow morning before going to work, but we'll see how it goes.  Thankfully, the sun made an appearance this afternoon and I'm hoping it sticks around tomorrow, because I'm looking forward to having a happy Friday the 13th.

3/11/15. The post where I say some things I didn't say yesterday.

3/11/15:  in my goofy state yesterday, I failed to say a few things I meant to say.  So here they are, in no particular order (because I'm still a little goofy).  

My patient, long-suffering husband had an appointment with his weight loss doctor yesterday and she proclaimed him ready to transition back to "real" food, since he has lost 30 pounds and is well within the healthy weight range for his height.  Ever the overachiever, he told her he wanted to lose more and convinced her to let him stay on the liquid diet for one more month.  In addition to having amazing self-control when it comes to this diet, he's also very persuasive.  

I will admit to being at least slightly concerned about the CRPS spreading to my jaw or face as a result of this injury.  For that reason, I am not using ice.  As I may have mentioned in previous posts, there is some evidence that icing an injury can cause the spread of CRPS in a person who already has it, and that it can inhibit healing/remission.  While icing it might decrease my current level of discomfort, I'm just not willing to take the chance.  In addition, I have increased my vitamin C intake, which has been linked to preventing the spread of CRPS.  (It also means I shouldn't have to worry about getting scurvy anytime soon.)

I am starting to realize how much my acting class means to me, and not just as a way to hone my skills.  I got some really touching notes from classmates yesterday wishing me well, and my acting coach and the class organizer left me a sweet and funny voice mail message today to cheer me up.  I guess there is a vulnerability in making a fool of yourself in front of a group of people that encourages a certain closeness.  In any event, they are very supportive and I'm really glad to be involved with them.

So, now on to today.  I ignored my doctor's advice to rest today.  (In hindsight, I guess I have ignored most of her advice. I am a terrible patient.)  I went to work to finish up interviews, which were a big success, so I think I made the right decision.  After work, I got my hair cut and colored in hopes of encouraging Spring to...well...spring.  You know you have a great hair stylist when you can say, "I still want it to be red, but I am also excited about Spring," and she knows exactly what you mean and executes it flawlessly. I came home to find my patient, long-suffering husband had moved our garden back outside.  Because he is the best. 

In my defense, I did rest this evening.  With the encouragement of my choir director (good thing I'm married to him), I skipped rehearsal tonight.  I don't think I could have moved my jaw enough to sing anyway.  

My sweet mom had a big day today.  She had a biopsy of a "suspicious" lymph node.  I imagine it looks something like this: 

The procedure went well and we should have the result in about 48 hours.  Here's hoping her doctor is overly cautious.  

3/10/15. The post where I don't have a concussion.

3/10/15: it was a late night and my headache continued to get worse, but once I got to bed, I slept well.  When my alarm went off this morning, I stayed in bed for a moment to see how I felt.  Not too bad.  Then I got up.  Not too good.  After a few minutes of standing, I decided staying in bed was a better choice.  I picked up my work cell phone to send a note saying I was going to make a doctor appointment and wouldn't be in, but first I thought I'd check my calendar in case I needed to reschedule anything.  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=iGLh9hRmRcM. In all the confusion yesterday, I had forgotten that today was the first of two full days of interviews for an assistant.  I had applicants coming in from other states to interview and it's a vacancy I'm desperate to fill.  No rescheduling this.  So I got up again.

I made it through the interviews, but my head and my jaw continued to get progressively more sore throughout the day.  The entire right side of my face and head hurt.  (Cue my brothers saying, "Does your face hurt? 'Cause it's killing me.")  During a break in interviews I made an appointment at the after hours clinic at my doctor's office.  By the end of the day I was feeling a little loopy and was growing concerned I might have done something a little more serious than I originally thought.

As I sat in the waiting room at the after hours clinic listening to sneezing, hacking, coughing, and various other types of sounds you hear in the waiting room at an after hours clinic, I started to regret my decision.  Now I was going to have a head injury and tuberculosis.  I was glad when the nurse finally called me back to the exam room.

After some poking, prodding, and motor tests, the doctor determined I did not have a concussion, neurological damage, or any broken bones.  She said it was all muscle and soft tissue-related.  She prescribed ibuprofen, ice, and a few days' rest.  She warned me it would likely feel even worse tomorrow and I would be "goofy" for awhile.  (I did not realize that was a medical term.)   She also said no alcohol for a week.  An actual quote: "You think you feel goofy now? Alcohol will make it ten times worse."  It's going to be a long week.

I had to miss acting class, which I hated to do, because we were filming our scenes tonight.  I won't be doing much talking for the next few days until my jaw heals.  Which makes everyone around me happy, I suspect.  My stimulator does not appear to have been affected at all and is vibrating away.  In another bit of good news, the rain has moved out and my foot is feeling better.  Now it's time to take my goofy self to bed and get some rest.  Just what the doctor ordered.

3/9/15. The post where we continue to have bad "car"ma.

3/9/15: how was our day, you ask?  Well, it started out great.  We slept in, had a little breakfast with my mom, then packed up and headed home.  In the pouring rain.  On a freeway under construction.  The first two hours of the drive were fairly uneventful.

Then it happened.  We went through a section of the freeway that was surrounded by concrete barriers and drove through an area of standing water.  The cars in front of us came safely to a stop.  We came safely to a stop.  The woman in the SUV behind us, however, wasn't so fortunate.  She rear ended us, then slid across two lanes and down the embankment to the frontage road.  The good news?  We walked away, she walked away, and the people in the 6-8 cars caught in her wake walked away. 

The bad news?  Most of our cars were not so fortunate.  We spent about three hours sitting in our car on the frontage road in the pouring rain dealing with police, insurance agents, EMTs, and tow trucks.  My patient, long-suffering husband and I were both a little banged up and disoriented, but the impact was not severe enough for the air bags to deploy.  My head hit the headrest pretty hard and the EMTs checked me out thoroughly to ensure there were no obvious spinal issues and my spinal cord stimulator hadn't gone haywire.  I declined their offer to take me to the local hospital (which they assured me was "really nice") and promised to see my doctor tomorrow.  

The tow truck driver took us and the car all the way home to the repair shop, which would normally be an hour drive, but took about two and a half hours thanks to the rain and the construction work.  The repair shop greeted my patient, long-suffering husband like he was family, since he had just picked up his car about two weeks earlier from a one month stay to repair the ice storm damage.  They even had a rental car waiting for us.  We are beginning to think his car is cursed.  Fortunately, it does not appear to be totaled, although the rear passenger panel is toast.

One of the reasons we came out of this as well as we did is my patient, long-suffering husband's mad driving skillz.  We were the only car involved in the melee that did not have any damage on the front end.  He didn't hit the car ahead of us, he didn't hit the concrete barrier, and he didn't leave his lane.  I think he has a promising career as a stunt driver.  

We got home with just enough time to unload the rental car and head to handbell practice.  My patient, long-suffering husband had another rehearsal after our practice, but my BFFs took me for tacos and margaritas afterward and suddenly the day didn't seem quite so bad.  I will make an appointment with my doctor in the morning to make sure everything is still securely fastened, but all in all, we feel very fortunate.  My patient, long-suffering husband's car might beg to differ.

3/8/15. The post where we pull off a surprise.

3/8/15: yesterday was my dad's birthday.  I didn't tell you because we were planning a surprise for him.  Today after church, we hightailed it down the freeway to get to their house in time for a small family birthday party.  We pulled off the surprise.  He wasn't expecting us and a fun time was had by all.  We even made a FaceTime call to our brother who lives out of state so he and his family could join the festivities.  

We are spending the night tonight and heading back home in the morning.  It was a quick trip, but it was totally worth it.  As I expected based on last night's foot issues, the rain came back this morning and followed us all the way to my parents' house three hours away.  My foot should get a job as a meteorologist.

3/7/15. The post where I pull two switcheroos.

3/7/15: yes, I stayed up and read the whole script.  It didn't take all night...just half the night.  And I slept in a little this morning to make up for it.  I am bound not to disclose anything about the script, so I'll just say it has a very compelling plot and my role is small but satisfying.  I think it will be a lot of fun.

My patient, long-suffering husband and I had a huge accomplishment today.  When we bought our home five years ago, we bought a nice patio table and chairs for our deck.  A large square table. For our small triangular deck. The deck is on the second floor of the house and has a railing around it, so there is no expanding the deck or cheating the table out a little.  It was obvious as soon as we put it together that the fit wasn't right, but we liked the table, so we tried to make it work.  In order for four people to eat at the table, we had to move the chairs into the corners of the deck, take all the food and tableware outside and set the table, have all the guests come outside and close the door, then pick up the table and move it so all the chairs could fit around it. After dinner (or if we forgot something and needed to go inside), we had to go through the same steps in reverse. It doesn't make for a very elegant dinner party. Or a very safe emergency exit.

My patient, long-suffering husband happened across a patio table that would work much better earlier this week, and this morning we decided enough was enough.  We cleaned off the old table and chairs, took photos, and put an ad on Craig's list.  Sure enough, within a few hours, a very nice couple loaded them up and took them to their new home.  All that remained was to purchase the new set, which entailed a trip to IKEA.

If you have never been to an IKEA store on a Saturday night, this should give you a good idea of what it is like.  http://youtu.be/z-qd198SFwo.  We made it home in one piece with our two boxes full of parts and got to work.  Within an hour, we had a new table and chairs on the deck.  A set that fits this time.  Now I am even more anxious for spring to arrive.  

We were pretty impressed with ourselves.  My foot, not to be outdone, decided to pull its own switcheroo.  For the last few weeks, I've had the cold, stinging, numb pain.  But tonight after an hour of standing in line at the store and an hour of putting together patio furniture, it decided to move back without warning to the red hot, swollen, burning pain.  And this time, it had a special surprise - several veins on the top of my foot looked (and felt) like they were about to burst through my skin Alien-style. (I'll spare you the video clip on that one.)  After about 30 minutes with my foot elevated, the color is returning to normal and the veins are disappearing, but it doesn't feel any better.  On the bright side, at least I have new patio furniture.