Day 15 of 365

From a commercial that plays multiple times a day:

 "With rheumatoid arthritis, it seems like your life is split in two. There’s the life you live and the life you want to live."

I agree with that.   

"Fortunately there's Enbrel.  
Enbrel can help relieve pain, stiffness, fatigue, and stop joint damage."

Sign me up! 

"Because Enbrel suppresses your immune system, it may lower your ability to fight infections. Serious, sometimes fatal events including infections, tuberculosis, lymphoma, and other cancers, and nervous system and blood disorders have occurred."

Just how desperate am I?

Pretty darn desperate. I had an appointment with the rheumatologist today. We are definitely starting this new injectable medicine - today. Blood work numbers were higher than they've ever been. My pain, swelling, and stiffness is keeping me from being functional. (Barely functional is where I'm at.) I post my pics every day, but usually what is seen in the picture is one of the only things I am able to accomplish for the day. I have more bad days than good right now, but I am really trying to keep positive and move forward. But some days it's just so darn hard!

So the first injection? In my right thigh. Did it hurt? It did sting. It takes 15 seconds for all of the medicine to inject, so that's a downside. The upside is that I may see relieve within two weeks.

And what does that $500+ single shot look like?

Day 14 of 365

Dick and Jane and my new camera are life long buddies.

My  new camera, my pretty blue new camera, needed a bag. A small bag. Something I could fit in my small purse. Being that I'm doing a picture every day for a year, I figure I can't take all my pictures of things around the house so I need to travel with my camera always. The other day in the mail I got what I thought was a free camera bag, but it wound up being some kit that can protect your camera in the water. I typically don't take my camera in the water with me, so it wasn't going to work.

I posted a few days back about having collected Dick and Jane fabrics and that I was trying to figure out what to do with them. On the quilting board that I visit it was suggested I do a bow tuck bag (something I'd never heard of but was very nice looking) or an apron or a quilt. I may still do any or all of those, but I came up with something that I needed (not just wanted) and am happy with how it turned out.

I originally made the bag out of some vibrant fabric I had, but then decided I should use my Dick and Jane fabric. I made a second bag and altered the pattern I had found on the internet a bit so that it provided a little more padding. Don't want to injure my pretty new blue camera!

Day 13 of 365

Today is an anniversary of sorts.

One year ago today I had my knee replacement. One year ago, I had bones cut, my kneecap removed, and metal and cement put in its place. Because of my young age (44), the doctor had been trying to put it off as long as possible, even though it had gotten so bad I was having to use a cane. Younger folks have a tendency to be more active and wear replacements out earlier, making them more likely to have a subsequent replacement. So in younger patients they often try and put the surgery off and then use a more conservative procedure where not as much cement is used. That was the plan for me. However, once the doctor got into the surgery, the extend of damage required him to take the approached used on older folks and use lots of cement.

So now I might have 10 years - maybe 15 if I'm lucky - on this new knee before going through this again.

But that's not what I'm thinking about today. What I'm thinking about was the hope I had going into the surgery last year. The hope that the excruciating pain I had before surgery would go away. (It did.) The hope that I'd be able to walk without a cane again. (I can.) That I'd be able to get up and down as I worked in the garden. (I still can't.) But the pain is better. Much better.

Heading into that surgery, I was hoping for a better life. I would never have expected that the knee surgery wouldn't be my only surgery of the year. That two shoulder surgeries would still follow. And that a year later, I'd still be doing physical therapy (although it's shoulder PT).

And here and now, today on this anniversary day, I am still hoping for that better life.

But I know that hoping isn't going to get me there. I have a new knee and two new shoulders, but becoming the bionic woman isn't necessarily going to give me that better life. Worrying about what I cannot do won't get me there either. Focusing on what I can do? It might get me closer. What I can do is write. And document. And spend my days doing for others. And show that I have lived through the picture I take each day.

So I gave myself an anniversary present today. I purchased a new camera.

These last two weeks of pictures have been taken on an old, old, digital camera. One of the first digital cameras to come out, I'm sure. So now to prove to myself I am committed to this new life, this writing, this documentation, this doing for others, I am putting my money where my mouth is. It's a pretty blue Panasonic Lumix. Has a great zoom, video capabilities, and more that I have yet to discover.

Day 12 of 365

Today was a good news, bad news kind of day.

Good news at physical therapy. I'm progressing so well I don't have to go out to PT anymore.
Bad news - I have to do physical therapy at home.

Good news at work. I went in today and everyone was happy to see me.
Bad news - because of the supplemental levy not passing and the legislative funding, some teachers may be out of a job next year. Me included.

Good news at the doctor. No more surgeries for a little while.
Bad news - if I can't put both arms behind my back in six weeks I have to go back. (Frozen shoulder.)

Good news in the mail. Got a free camera case.
Bad news - bills came too.

The best news? That I can walk, I can talk, and I can drive. I'm an independent, living, breathing, person who is working on becoming a more appreciative, grateful person. A person who, after a long 18 months in a pain-induced, drug-induced stupor, is climbing out of the hole. Is fighting her way to the top.

And who finds joy in making and decorating cookies to share with others. Today's beneficiaries of my cookies were the physical therapist office and work. Sharing my work with others is a step in the right direction.

Day 11 of 365

Other than being in labor for 26 hours and winding up having an emergency c-section, my first pregnancy was uneventful.

That was until the nurse came in a few hours after our daughter was born and told me she was having seizures. Lots of seizures. Seizures they couldn't get under control. Seizures they couldn't handle at that hospital. Within 36 hours of my daughter being born, she was in an incubator, hooked up to tubes and lines, and in an ambulance on her way to another hospital, in another city, to a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. And there I was, still lying in a hospital bed, unable to follow because I had a c-section.

She spent 10 days in intensive care. Most of it was in a drug induced coma. To stop her seizures she was given enough phenobarbital to keep her from waking up. Enough phenobarbital to keep her brain still as they searched for answers to the cause - was it an infection or brain injury? They were preparing us for the worst (severe brain damage) but helping us find the positives (she opened her eyes and nursed on day 8).

Day 10 she was sent home with a prescription of phenobarbital. They had given her such large doses to keep her in a coma she was now addicted. It took several months to wean her off.

We kept looking for those positives. Could she make sound? Yep. Could she crawl? Yep. Could she walk? Talk? Yep. Yep. Doctors were surprised at her progress. While they never found out why she had so many seizures, they were pretty confident she was going to have some type of brain damage from them. When it became obvious that she was "good to go", the pediatric neurologist shared that in cases like hers only 1 in 100 babies turns out "normal".

Our miracle baby. Now she's on her own, has a job, an apartment, and calls home every day. She comes home every few weeks and helps us out around the house with odd jobs. Is sometimes a pain in the behind, but mostly not.

Which brings me to today's picture. A couple in California had a premature baby that did not make it. Calling All Angels is a service project where they are giving back in memory of their child by donating blankets to a NICU for premature babies.

In memory of those parents around me in the NICU so many years ago, those parents who had children who did not survive, I am donating a quilt. A little girl quilt. I've been working on it for a week or so, and it's now ready to go.

Day 10 of 365

I grew up with Dick and Jane. And Sally, and Mother and Father, and Spot, and ...

I was one of those "advanced" students. Teachers didn't know what to do with me. I'd finish my work, then they'd give me more work. Harder work. I was considered a self-starter, independent. So most of my time in elementary school was spent working on worksheet after worksheet and workbook after workbook. Boring, and sometimes just a little too hard. But when I got to read Dick and Jane it was easy. I could read the same words about the same characters again and again and it was comforting, relaxing. 
 
When I started teaching 17 years ago, I never thought about Dick and Jane. Schools had moved on to other things, and those who grew up with Dick and Jane rarely talked about it because they were too busy teaching.

But now that I'm out of the school system, I've thought about Dick and Jane again. Maybe it's nostalgia, maybe it's looking back over my career and the changes that have been made in the way reading is taught. Maybe it's questioning the system. Or maybe I just have more time to think than I used to.

While perusing the sewing and fabric section of ebay a few months back, I came across Dick and Jane fabric. I didn't even know it existed! However, it was a bit expensive for my tastes. Since then I've been keeping an eye out for it. I've been buying some here and there - only if I can get a good deal on it. And today, my latest shipment arrived.

I pulled out my other pieces, and it looks as if I have enough for a quilt. Or a tote bag. Or even both. Oh, the possibilities!

I'm glad Dick and Jane are back in my life.

Day 9 of 365

It all started with the cat.

Kitty. Putty. Sissy. Depends on who is calling her.

Every year, my daughter asks for a new calendar for Christmas. She used to want Harry Potter, but for the last few years it has been a cat calendar. Now that she's living on her own in a different town and we have Kitty-Putty-Sissy staying here with us, we decided to create a calendar of her cat. A different picture of the cat every month with some cute caption.

The month of November I spent going through our pictures of the cat and finding ones that would match up for different times of the year. Her in the leaf pile in the fall, in the rose garden in the spring. I decided for December the cat should be under the Christmas tree. I waited until we put up the tree, took a quick picture of the cat under it (no presents under the tree yet), and took my film to a one hour photo.

When I picked up the pictures an hour later, much to my surprise the picture showed the cat under the tree with presents around her. Wait - are those our presents from last year? Yep. We have gone the entire year without needing to get film developed. An entire year of less than 24 pictures worth taking. What the heck happened?

Now, we're a family that traveled a lot when I was working. Been to all 50 states, cruised to Hawaii twice, cruised to Alaska three times. Sun Valley every year. Arizona for Spring Training. Las Vegas or Florida or Texas for Christmas. And during all those vacations, took lots and lots and lots - thousands - of pictures. Some days I would go through an entire roll of film. We have dozens of scrapbooks filled with pictures of the beautiful places we've been.

Except now that we're home, not traveling, we have nothing? Nothing to note, nothing worth capturing?

And that's what got me started thinking about this picture a day thing. A take-a-picture-every-day-to-see-that-you-have-lived kind of thing. I cannot and will not believe that my/our everyday life is not as important or noteworthy as any place we've visited. In our vacationing life, we have taken pictures of race cars, of baseball stadiums, of signs in gas station windows. And we must now have pictures of our real, non-vacation life. Daily pictures that might help me find the good in the day, that might help lead me back into the land of the living instead of the land of the existing. Thus began the documenting of my days.

And how's Kitty-Putty-Sissy doing? Today, she's hiding her eyes from the sun and sleeping away.