11/10/14. The post where I learn another thing about my car.

11/10/14: Monday mornings are always hectic.  Packing breakfasts and lunches for the week, last minute straightening before the cleaners come (I'll skip the obvious joke here), and gathering up anything else I need to take with me to work.  Inevitably, it usually looks more like I am going on a camp-out than to the office.  This morning was no exception and, after coughing through much of the night, I was not at the peak of my mental sharpness.  So it was no surprise when I got to work and found I'd forgotten my work and home cell phones, as well as my cough medicine and tissues.  

Happy Monday.  I figured it wouldn't hurt me to go a day without my cell phones.  In fact, it might even be a treat, or at least a good life lesson about priorities.  The medicine and tissues were another story, although that could be resolved with a trip to the drug store five minutes from work.  I decided to see how long I could tough it out.  Fortunately I didn't have to find out, because my patient, long-suffering husband saved the day.  He arrived at my office late morning with an armload of my forgotten goodies.  Potential crisis averted.  Sorry, ladies, he's taken.

You'll all be relieved to know that I finally unpacked my boxes today.  (Other than those that do not need to be unpacked.  You know, the ones with the files I need to access about once every three years.  But when I need them, I really need them.) My office looked as good today as it will ever look, so I did my best to savor it for awhile.  And it will be clean for at least one more day.  Because I am off for the holiday tomorrow.  All bets are off on Wednesday, though.

Today was the last "convertible weather" day in the 10-day forecast, so I rode to work with the top down again.  Better get my money's worth while I can.  (Of course, this might also explain why I can't shake this infection...)  When I left work, I learned another thing about my car, or at least about convertibles in general.  Don't leave the top down all day when roof repairs are being done on the building next door.  I came out to find the entire cabin of my car covered in a heavy layer of white dust from the foam being cut nearby.  (I guess it could have been worse, because I smelled tar.)  It looked like a cross between a white Christmas and Pompeii.  Guess my first errand tomorrow will be a trip to the car wash.

My foot pain level is steadily increasing - I am now consistently at a 3-4, with spikes up to 5.  Enough that it is starting to be distracting again.  I am also starting to notice a little discoloration again, although nothing like it looked pre-implant.  Looking forward to my appointment tomorrow.  I'd like to nip this in the bud.  Or at least in mid-bloom.

11/9/14. The post where I remember to slow down and appreciate my life.

11/9/14: the sleep night started off badly Friday night, with a serious coughing fit that got me out of bed for about 45 minutes.  Once that was over, though, I was able to sleep pretty well.  The best part? I slept lying down.  It felt quite luxurious.  Of course, I woke up in the morning completely congested again, but it was worth it.  

On Saturday, I had to miss an event I enjoy every year - my friend's holiday cookie exchange party.  All week long, I had hoped this would clear up in time, but by Friday night it was obvious I wouldn't be up to making cookies.  Nor would anyone want to eat cookies I'd made in this condition.  I guess this year I will have to be responsible for my own holiday cookies. While I hated missing the party, I felt much better after having a lazy morning.  I've had several reminders over the last few weeks to slow down a little.  Maybe I'm actually starting to pay attention.  

It was back to work Saturday afternoon, for an evening concert in my patient, long-suffering husband's music series.  As is usually the case for these concerts, we had a house guest afterward.  A singer from Estonia.  His English, while tentative, was certainly better than our Estonian, and we communicated pretty well.  We offered him a glass of wine or a cocktail, and he informed us he'd never had a cocktail.  That was the wrong answer in this household.  We spent the next two hours making him various concoctions while we snacked and chatted.  We learned that he was a professor at a university with six children and four grandchildren.  We also learned that he had been a member of the national go-kart team many years ago when Estonia was part of the USSR.  (I was not aware that countries had national go-kart teams.  I'll have to check out the World Wide Web and see if the U.S. has one. And if so, whether it's too late for me to join.)  And that he had never seen a grape tomato before.  We had put out a spread of charcuterie and cheeses, all of which he enjoyed, but he spied the container of grape tomatoes on the counter behind us and asked if he could try one.  Of course, we were happy to oblige, and he was fascinated by them.  

He had a very early flight this morning to his next U.S. concert location, so we sent him on his way with a recipe for his new favorite cocktail, and probably a massive headache.  It was a great joy to speak with him and learn about his life, and also a great reminder of all the things I take for granted.  Like a fully stocked bar and a grocery store five minutes away where I can buy just about anything a person could ever want or need.  I will think twice next time before I throw away half a container of grape tomatoes because they are "past their prime."

Today was another fairly quiet day, consisting of church, a few errands, and some college football recorded from yesterday.  I slept much better, although I was still too congested to sing in choir.  This meant I got to hear the choir, which was a real treat.  It sounded absolutely beautiful, certainly much better than it would have sounded with me croaking along with them.  I'm doing my best to get some rest and shake this infection this weekend, because there is a lot of life going on over the coming week and I want to enjoy it.  

I am looking forward to getting a new stimulator program on Tuesday, because I am officially over this one.  This is the most my foot has hurt since the implant surgery, and I suspect that without a change soon, it will only get worse.  I feel extremely grateful to have the stimulator in my tool kit.  Even more grateful than I am for grape tomatoes.

11/7/14. The post where I learn some things about my new car.

11/7/14: am resigned to the fact that I may never sleep horizontally again.  While I feel like I am on the tail end of this thing, I have officially entered the coughing stage.  I mean the hacking, wall shaking, "sounds like I live in a shanty in London in the 1800s" kind of coughing.  The kind that causes my co-workers to follow me around with cans of Lysol.

My patient, long-suffering husband came to my office this morning and hung my art.  Because he's the BEST.  For the rest of the day, everyone complimented me on how good they looked.  Of course, these are the same pieces of art I've had for years, but he arranged them in a way that is much more aesthetically pleasing.  Now, all I have to do is unpack about a dozen boxes and my office will look like it is inhabited by a grownup.

A few days ago, the weather turned much cooler.  My friend, a former convertible owner, asked me if I had heated seats so I could still drive with the top down.  No, I told him, my patient, long-suffering husband's new car does, but mine does not.  I assured him that because it was a two-seater, the heater worked very quickly and I would still be able to drive with the top down on cool days.  That same day, I rode with my patient, long-suffering husband and got to use his heated seats.  They were wonderful.  I mentioned that I wished my car had them, too, and he expressed surprise that it did not.

Fast forward to yesterday afternoon.  I ran an errand in my car with the above-mentioned friend.  After a few minutes, he said, "Yes, you do."  "Yes, I do, what?"  "Have heated seats. The controls are right here."  Well, what do you know?  I'm disappointed that I haven't had a chance to read through the owner's manual yet (or at least, the interesting parts), but I suppose taking a thorough look at the car would be a good start.

Today was a sunny day, so I rode everywhere with top down and a toasty warm bum.  Even to my patient, long-suffering husband's concert, which was in a town approximately 30 minutes away via toll road.  A toll road which has no gas stations for at least 20 miles.  When I started the trip, my gas gauge read about a quarter of a tank.  I wasn't sure if I had a low fuel indicator light, so I have been watching fairly carefully.  I learned that my car does in fact have such a light.  I also learned that when the light comes on, the gas gauge almost immediately swings to "empty."  Well, this is disconcerting.

I gritted my teeth and kept driving, glad that my AAA membership was up to date.  At the first possible chance, I pulled into a gas station and completely filled my tank.  It took a little over 11 gallons to fill it up, and it holds...well, to be honest, I don't know how much it holds.  More than 11 gallons, I hope.  Yes, I should really crack open that owner's manual.

Lots more to say, but I'm worn out from the day, so I'll try to finish up tomorrow.  In the meantime, I'm off to bed, to "lie down," or at least to recline a little.  

11/6/14. The post where I narrowly avoid a third wardrobe malfunction.

11/6/14: I'm starting to get the hang of sleeping sitting up.  At least my health monitor thinks so.  I got a 98% sleep score, although my neck and hips might disagree.  I felt like I was starting to turn the corner with respect to my sinus issues and I had enough of a voice that I thought I could get through my final two classes today.

I was very careful with my outfit this morning.  Shoes with intact heel caps?  Check.  Comfy dress with plenty of breathing room?  Check.  Matching jewelry?  Ummmm...rats.  I combed through my carefully organized jewelry box with no luck.  How could I lose a matching necklace and earrings?  And how could I wear my dress without the jewelry?  (Yes, I know.  I have at least a dozen other sets of jewelry that would match the dress.  But this quickly became a quest.)  I sat down and tried to think it through.  I had packed the jewelry for my recent trip, so I checked my luggage.  No dice.  Then I remembered wearing it to work last week on a day I had rehearsal.  So I checked the small bag where I put my jewelry on rehearsal days.  Strike two.  I tore my purse apart, opening every nook and cranny that could possibly hold jewelry.  Sigh.

I went back upstairs to change clothes.  Because at this point, the dress would just remind me of the lost jewelry.  As looked for another outfit, I suddenly had an epiphany.  I checked the athletic bag I use to transport my rehearsal clothes, which contained a small zipper pocket I would swear I had never seen before.  And guess what was inside?  While I was relieved to find the jewelry, I was also a little concerned that I had no recollection of storing it in a place I didn't even recall existed.  I'm no longer on any prescription medication, so I have no excuse.  Welcome to the next forty years.

I made it through both classes at work, although I coughed through the last half of the afternoon class, which I suspect was as annoying to my students as it was to me.  I also got some preliminary cleanup work done in my office so I can start unpacking in earnest tomorrow.  And this time I mean it.  I had a lovely evening catching up with good friends and at the end of the night, my patient, long-suffering husband made me another hot toddy.  I could get used to that.  

11/5/14. The post where I have a wardrobe malfunction of a different kind.

11/5/14: ugh. Day number three of "sleeping" sitting up.  It started raining last night and it was cold and drizzly all day today.  Not the best weather when you are already sick.  I considered staying home, but since I couldn't sleep anyway and I knew I would be miserable, I decided I might as well be miserable at work.

You may recall that a few weeks ago, I packed up my office because I was getting new wallpaper.  Well, guess what?  My office is still filled with boxes and unhung art.  I unpacked just enough things to do the projects I am working on, and the rest has fallen by the wayside.  Every day, I vow I will unpack the next day, and this morning I decided today would be the day.  Since the weather was bad and I planned to be emptying boxes all day, I decided to dress casually.  Which is not as awesome as it sounds.  With all the swelling from my surgery (and by that, I mean all the weight I've gained during the last year), I don't have any pants that fit well, and I am much too stubborn to buy bigger pants.  I tried on pants in my closet until I found a pair that I could get fastened and went to work, hoping they would stretch out a little.

They didn't.  I spent the entire day holding my breath so the button didn't fly off and put someone's eye out, and I had a permanent wedgie.  Lesson learned?  I'm at least five pounds away from comfortably wearing my pants again.  And the worst part?  I didn't unpack a single box today.  I had to put out a couple of fires at work and before I knew it, the day was over.  I won't get to it tomorrow, either.  I have to teach two more classes, although I'm not sure how I am going to do that, since my voice is completely shot.  Class may turn into a games of charades.

One thing I did accomplish was making an appointment to have a new program added to my stimulator next Tuesday.  Not a moment too soon.  I have the amplitude turned up enough on the current program that the tingling is starting to really annoy me, and increasing levels of pain are sneaking through.  I know I haven't really talked about pain levels since my surgery, but these days I am hanging around the 3-4 range.  Not bad in the scheme of things, considering how much I've increased my activity level, but I'd like it to be better and I'm a little worried about it getting worse.  So I'm doing my best to stay ahead of it.

I snuck in a manicure at lunch ("Malaga Wine" from OPI's Classic Shades collection) and my poor manicurist sounded just as bad as I did.  I also went to choir rehearsal tonight, but just as an observer.  There was no way I could sing, but I've missed so many rehearsals already that I felt like I needed to be there.  After we got home, my patient, long-suffering husband made me a hot toddy.  And I was surprised to find that they really work!  My throat felt quite a bit better afterward.  Or maybe I just didn't care that my throat hurt.  Either way, I suspect my employer would frown on me having one at work, which is a shame. 

11/4/14. The post where I have a wardrobe malfunction.

11/4/14: still feeling pretty poorly this morning, but I got up and went to vote before work.  I stood in line for almost 40 minutes to vote.  And you know what?  It didn't bother me a bit.  I would be perfectly happy if there were long lines at every election.   

I got to work and had a fairly quiet day in the office.  It gave me a chance to admire my shoes.  I've been trying to wear as many different pairs of shoes as possible since my surgery and I had on a particularly cute pair today.  

In fact, several people in line at the poll complimented them, as well as a few co-workers.  I probably hadn't worn them in almost two years, and before today I'd only worn them a few times.  So I was surprised when I walked down the hall at work and started having trouble staying upright.  Maybe the soles weren't sufficiently scuffed?  A survey of the bottom of my shoe quickly revealed the issue.  

In case any of you are not aware, womens' dress shoes are supposed to have heel caps.  And I feel certain these shoes had heel caps when I bought them.  But the other shoe was just as bad.  The fact that I was walking on two nails on a tile floor might explain my balance trouble.  In fact, now I am impressed by my balance.  (Not enough to walk a tightrope between skyscrapers while blindfolded, mind you.)  Apparently I need to check my shoes a little more thoroughly each morning before I leave the house.

I made the discovery mid-morning, which meant I had to make it through the rest of the work day in my rickety shoes.  I stayed safely on carpet as much as possible and walked on the balls of my feet to avoid any mishaps.  I made it home without injury and enjoyed a nice, quiet evening alone with my patient, long-suffering husband for the first time in weeks.  

I still haven't called about setting up a new program for my stimulator, but I resolve to do it tomorrow.  Right after I inspect my shoes to make sure they are intact.

11/3/14. The post where I pay for the past two weeks.

11/3/14: I was looking forward to a good night's rest after all the events of the last two weeks.  But that didn't happen.  Because I have a sinus infection.  Of course.

I've been fighting it ever since I got home from my conference.  I chalked it up to allergies, and that's probably how it started.  I nursed my sore throat enough to perform Saturday night, but I started slowly falling apart on Sunday and by Sunday night I was in pretty sorry shape.  As soon as I laid my head on the pillow, I started coughing.  So it was back up to get a wedge pillow so I could sleep sitting up.  And I did manage something approximating sleep.  Although sitting up all night didn't help relieve my soreness from the show Saturday night.  http://youtu.be/CkvL6r5CMak

When I got up this morning, it was clear I had a sinus infection.  (I won't tell you why it was clear - you can probably imagine why.  Yuck.)  In addition to the headache and the stopped up nose, my throat was on fire.  Not in a CRPS kind of way, though.  Just in a sore throat kind of way.  It would have been a great day to stay home sick, but I had to teach two classes today, so I got it together and went to work.  In my orange sweater, in honor of CRPS Awareness Day.  I looked a little like I missed the memo that Halloween was over, but no one seemed to mind.  I made it through the classes without completely losing my voice, and even went to handbell practice after work.  My patient, long-suffering husband got me through the day, between wearing his CRPS t-shirt in solidarity and making me a yummy dinner after practice.  I will try to repay his kindness by not coughing all night.

After a few days of phone tag, I talked this evening with a friend of a friend who is considering a spinal cord stimulator for nerve damage in her arm.  It is amazing how many people I have run across over the last year who have similar issues.  (I think they call it "collective consciousness" when you suddenly start to notice multiple instances of something you previously thought was unusual because it becomes important to you.  Like when you buy a new car that seemed unique and suddenly you see the same make and model everywhere you go.)  My brother just told me about a friend's 15 year old daughter who has been diagnosed with CRPS, which probably wouldn't have resonated as much with him a year ago.  I really feel for her - it is hard enough to be a 15 year old without having to deal with something like this.  

Looks like it will be another night of sleeping sitting up.  Fortunately, I have no classes to teach tomorrow and it should be a quiet day in the office.  Who knows, a few more quiet days and I might feel better.  If only I could count on a few more quiet days.