Day 760

Happy Easter! Says who? Me.

And the cat. (At least that's what I think she is saying.)

Day 759

I'm not a big fan of chocolate. Yeah, I'll eat it, but it certainly isn't my go-to snack. Heath bars aren't something I care for either. But today hubby made some brownies with Heath pieces melted over the top. Oh, my. Now I can learn to like these!

Day 758

Looking at my front flower bed it's clear that it was a cold winter. Looking pretty bare out there.

Day 757

I made that call. Cancelled my books for the blind training. Made me sad to do it, but it had to be done. My health is spiraling downward and it is getting difficult to maintain even the little bit of normalcy I have. It seems like every time my health hits a low it winds up being a lower low than the time before. I've got to be hitting the illness rock bottom pretty darn soon. (Funny though, I thought all those other times were rock bottom. What little do I know!)

I managed to do two things today. Take a super long nap (didn't wake up until 7 PM) and box up things for eBay. I was able to squeeze most things into the boxes and packages I had, but I lost the battle of trying to get the orange fabric in the box.

Tomorrow is a new day and the fight will begin again. And I'm not just talking about fabric.

Day 756

I have a dreaded phone call to make. I've been putting it off all day, even putting it off until tomorrow morning, all because I'm hoping for a miraculous recovery.

It started with difficulty getting up out of bed. A having-to-hang-onto-the-walls kind of difficulty. Then there was the feeling of shaking on the inside. Then hands not able to grasp things. One full day of dropping everything I picked up. The culmination of all those symptoms didn't necessitate a call to the doctor, but yesterday's trip to the vet's office did.

Me, the driver. Me, the person who got carsick. (Who gets carsick when they're driving?) That's when I knew something was up. Add in the inability to focus, the hard time finding the right word, and those ceilings and walls that won't stop moving.

According to the rheumatologist I fall into the 2% of people that suffer such reactions due to the infusion medication. Like vertigo. Miserable, dizzying, nauseating, can't keep my eyes open long before getting sick vertigo. They tell me it should get better.

It better get better. That's why I haven't made that phone call yet. The one that cancels my training for my books for the blind work. Tomorrow is supposed to be my first training session. Last week's was cancelled because of the trainer and now I'm afraid I won't make this one. I can force myself through fatigue and stiffness and pain - I have lots of practice with that - but I can't force myself through nausea and dizziness.

I want to go to sleep and wake up normal. (Or at least as normal as I'll ever get.) In the meantime kitty is keeping me company.

Day 755

We got her in. Not easily, but kitty got in the carrier.

But leave it to me to have the little zipper at the top open, the one with an opening just big enough to put my hand in. For when I put her in the carrier, zipped her up, headed to the bathroom one last time before we headed out the door...she squeezed herself through that tiny opening. Not her whole self, just her head and front legs - and proceeded to get herself stuck. She couldn't get all the way through the opening (big ole belly) and she couldn't back herself out either. After lots of yowling on her part (and almost some tears on mine) and maneuvering of body parts it took something as simple as me blowing air on her face to get her moved back into the carrier.

Those weren't the only yowls of the day. Her crying all the way to the vet. Her terrified of all the dogs in the place. Her hissing when she got a shot. When it was all over, she was oh-so-happy to get into the carrier. Finally, after the poking and prodding she had a somewhat familiar hiding place from everyone and everything.

Despite all the howls and yowls and crying and hissing, she was a good girl. Especially since it was the first time she left the house in 10 years.

We felt quite relieved that despite our veterinarian neglect, kitty is in good shape. Other than getting a rabies shot, she's good. Her balding patches have been explained  too. It's "psychogenic alopecia". The stress of the other cats that she's recently been seeing and hearing out the window has caused her to overgroom which has led to the bald patches. Other than a bit funny looking, it isn't anything to be worried about.

In the vet's office, I found something else a bit funny looking. I might be more worried if I had this overweight one to deal with.

Day 754

We're getting closer...

Day 753

If there ever was any question about why kitty sits in the basket on my ironing board, it was answered today.

Just look at that sunshine streaming through the window!

Day 752

As much time and money hubby and I spend with doctor's appointments and tests and xrays and MRIs and prescription medications you'd think we'd give the cat the same treatment. But we have to fess up. We don't take the cat to the vet. We did when she was little but haven't had her back in years and years.

We know it's bad. We love her and feed her and brush her and play with her but we just haven't found our way to the vet's office. That changes next week when we finally get her there.

It's the getting there that has always been worrisome. Being that she never travels in the car I'm a bit concerned. Daughter and I bought a cat carrier this past week to give her a comfy place to hang out. Soft-sided, a long strap for me to carry it over my shoulder, a nice soft bed for kitty to rest on.

Trying to introduce her to the idea isn't going as well as I thought it would. Not that I haven't tried to get her interested! You can see the progress I've made.

Cat.

 Empty cat carrier.

At least I have until Monday to get it figured out. Might be time to pull out the treats.

Day 751

Last night my daughter asked me if I ever get tired of taking a picture every day.

Yep. A lot. Almost every day. So many days I just don't have anything exciting going on. Nothing exciting to see, nothing exciting to do. Just the same thing, just a different year. But then there are days where I get to do something a bit different than my normal schedule and get to see things in a different way.

Take Idaho's State Capitol building. Back on Day 170 , after over 30 years of living in Idaho, I first stepped into the building. Got a picture, even.

Then today I had another meeting right next to the Capitol. Seemed like a good day to take some additional pictures of the outside. How can I not feel important being able to see this before and after meetings?

Day 750

Still hanging out in Boise, keeping quiet. And organizing all that fabric from last week. Thanks to my mom and daughter and their help some is ready to head to eBay, some to Marsing, and some will stay put right here.

Day 749

Being that the rheumatologist's office is a lot closer to our place in Boise than our place in Marsing I'm hanging out in Boise for a couple days. Just in case. According to the nurse I could have a potentially life-threatening allergic reaction up to 48 hours after the infusion. Better safe than sorry!

It did give me a chance to get late afternoon pictures of the thunderstorm rolling through.

That's black sky behind the tree, not blue sky.

Day 748

I never blog at the exact moment something is happening but today is different.

First of all, I thought I'd be able to talk about my first training session - as an editor - on my uphill climb to being a narrator for the books for the blind. But the gal training me had to cancel so here I am writing about the next scheduled appointment of the day.

I sit in this room.

I sit here in this row of chairs.

Hooked up to this machine. Feet up, blanket covering me, blood pressure cuff on one arm, IV in the other.

Other than the nurse sitting at her computer and the folks, mostly staff members, walking by the room and glancing at with me with a look of pity and forced smiles on their faces, I'm alone. Yet it's not quiet. The noise of the machine pumping the multiple vials of medicine that was injected in the IV compete with the conversations of doctors and nurses and patients in the hallway.

I crossed one of those last lines I drew in the sand. I'm running out of options. I've crossed the steroid line, the chemotherapy line, the pre-filled syringe line, the measuring the medicine and then injecting myself line, the anti-malaria drug line.

Today I crossed the infusion line. I sit here with thousands of dollars entering my veins in the hope of gaining some relief in the rheumatoid arthritis battle. It's a battle I've been losing. But maybe, just maybe...

Day 747

It seemed exciting, it seemed a fun way to keep myself busy. Patterns, patterns, patterns. Except when I hit that imaginary wall today, that one caused by the chemotherapy drugs, it didn't seem so fun and exciting. Seemed like nothing but work. Time to refocus my mind, to concentrate on trying to find some energy. And time to organize patterns.

It will get better! (If I tell myself that enough it eventually will.) Just not today.

Day 746

I started out buying some cheap patterns to get an idea of styles. It's now turned into a little obsession.

Okay, big obsession.

Day 745

My question was going to be moth or butterfly?

I think the more fitting question should be are my blinds dusty or dust-free?

Day 744

My daughter gets on me a lot about her car. She has my old car but it seems every time I see it I keep referring to it as my car. So it was no surprise when I dropped her off that she made a remark about her car. I thought it was her attempt to remind of whose name is on the title.

Nope. It was an attempt to show me that someone else was trying to possess her car.

Day 743

Me + estate sale leftovers from a lady who sewed = the floor of my bedroom in Boise.

 

What was I thinking?

Day 742

I could have kicked myself this morning for not taking a picture. There I was, driving down a busy Boise street on my way to a meeting and came to a dead stop for a couple crossing the road.

A couple of ducks, that it. A male and female, crossing five lanes of traffic at 8:30 in the morning. I should have grabbed my camera then. But the conscientious driver in me decided against it.

No worries, though. As soon as I got back to our house in Boise, guess who was walking down the middle of the street?

Day 741

This afternoon was too important not to get it right. This afternoon, next week, and the week after that and the week after that and the one after that and the one after that. Just too important. I want it too bad. That recording booth is calling my name and I'm going to have to work darn hard to get there.

When I was in elementary school I used to get to help at the school next door. This was when students with special needs were placed in a separate school. Me, the good ole' smart girl, the one who finished my work early - with few mistakes - and always needed more got to go next door to the school and work with deaf students and blind students. I learned sign language; I learned braille.

It was that experience that made me want to teach the deaf when I grew up.

I headed to college, took my undergraduate classes, took sign language classes, all the time knowing I would be a teacher of the deaf. I took a job teaching second grade, knowing someday I would be teaching the deaf. After several years I moved onto teaching fourth grade, knowing someday I would be teaching the deaf. I moved to a position outside the classroom, thinking someday I might teach the deaf.

And now here I am, forty years later since that first thought of what I wanted to be when I grew up and twenty years since I started teaching. I've just recently come to the realization that I won't be teaching the deaf.

But I found a way to bring things full circle and make sure I don't give up on my dream completely.

The Idaho Commission for the Libraries was looking for volunteers for their talking book program. This is a program where written materials are recorded and then distributed to the blind, kind of like a book on tape program.

So today I had my first interview. Being I'm totally inexperienced in a recording booth I'm going to be working my way up the ranks. I will start by editing the recorded materials for a few weeks (or months). Then I get to move up and work with the narrator, editing their spoken word as they go. And then, and only then - and after a voice "audition" - will I be in that booth. Alone in front of the microphone.

Narrating books for the blind.

It might not be teaching the deaf, but I can sure live with it. As close to a dream come true as I will probably ever get. Makes me want to work even harder to get to that booth!

Today's unrelated pic is another quilt top I'm working on for charity. (Obviously for a girl.)