Grandma Lays It On the Line

Ring ring...

Me: "Hi Grandma!"

Granny Therese: "Hi Anne! I'm so sorry you don't feel good. I wish I could take the pain away."

Me: "Thanks Grandma - I'll get through it."

GT: "So are you taking Percocet?"

Me: "No, I'm taking Prednisone."

GT: "Oh, you're gonna get fat!"

Me: Facepalm

Life Goes On...

Well, its official. Crohn's gets to be part of my day-to-day life for the foreseeable future. And while it is a familiar guest, I can't say that it is a welcome guest.

In January, I had a very painful surgery to remove 25 cm of my small intestine and clean up all of the scarring and mess the inflammation had left in my insides. It took a long time to recover and I still have a pretty bad-ass scar from the surgery. The surgery was absolutely worth it because it got rid of the debilitating pain I felt every time I ate, or moved, or breathed. 

But...

The rate of Crohn's recurrence after this type of surgery is 50% within 5 years. I expected that I'd probably have problems again. But not so soon. Not this soon. Not within 10 months of the surgery. And I'm just so disappointed. 

I wanted 5 years to not be sick. To drink caffeinated coffee and good wine. To have a baby. To live life without constantly having a shadow of something that I don't want with me. 

Grumble Grumble

My stomach is completely barren of anything but grumbles today. 

I have to go to the doctor for a colonoscopy this afternoon and as such had the pleasure of purging everything from my system yesterday. Couldn't eat anything, couldn't drink anything but clear liquids. And then, joy of all joys, I had to drink the nastiest prep drink over the course of two hours. It was two hours of hell - slightly sweet lemon ginger flavor, thicker than juice, but not quite eggnog consistency, making me gag with every sip.

The joys of having Crohn's means that at the ripe age of 31, this will be my third colonoscopy. At least I'm getting knocked out for this one. I was awake for one and no matter what they say about it not hurting it is terribly uncomfortable, and no matter how awesome the staff is (especially the nurses) at making the situation seem like it isn't an embarrassing deal, it is awkward. 

But when I get knocked out, I don't remember any of it. And apparently my short-term memory sucks once I come out of the "under". The last "procedure" was when they were trying to diagnose me with Crohn's. Will was there when the doc came out to talk to us about the findings. 

I asked the doctor, "So, do I have Crohn's?" 

And the doctor said, "Yes." 

And then after a few minutes of going over the treatment options, I piped up again, "So, do I have Crohn's?" 

And again, the doctor said, "Yes."

Apparently I asked the same question every few minutes. I was useless with remembering stuff. I need to figure out a code word to give Will so he can say, "bananas" and I'll know to shut up because I'm not making sense and repeating the same question over and over. But with my luck, I won't remember the code word and Will will just be stuck repeating the same nonsense over and over this time trying to give me the code word. And he won't have the excuse of having been knocked out.

Also, the spellchecker wants to change "colonoscopy" to "cloudscape." A cloudscape sounds much more pleasant today.

UPDATE:

So, as per usual, I couldn't remember a thing once I woke up. Apparently I repeatedly freaked out about them putting me on Prednisone because I really, really, really don't want to get moon face. Call me vain.

The weird thing is, I don't remember ANYTHING in between the nurse explaining the "happy juice" (her words) that she was putting into my IV and then BAM, I'm in my kitchen eating a Good Times hamburger with Will. Seriously, I don't remember waking up, I don't remember visiting the pharmacy to get the dreaded prednisone, I don't remember going to Good Times or even driving home. This is totally messing with my mind!

A Weekend in Review

Friday - SNOW!

I was home for the first snowfall of the season! Every time I left town on a work trip I was worried that I'd miss the first snowfall, that it would come without me. I'm not sure why seeing the snow for the first time felt like such a big deal. But there's something magic about waking up to a snow scape outside, feeling all warm snugly inside. And the first snowfall came later than usual this year (it usually happens on Halloween). So maybe the anticipation was being built up. 

It just seemed like something that would be tragic to miss. And I didn't miss it. I got to enjoy the dusting of snow that we got. Snow means that skiing is coming soon. And Christmas! And also the usual scrape-your-car-off for death defying drives to work too... but that only affects me if I have to drive to the airport.

Saturday - Adventures in Babysitting

Will and I babysat our friends' little girl, Malia, for a few hours on Saturday night. I used to be a babysitting champ when I was in middle school. What else did I have to do on the weekends, right? But as soon as high school came along, that gravy train gave out because it turned out I liked kids my own age a whole lot more than little kids.

So it has been awhile since I've been hanging out with a kid sans a responsible adult. And no, I don't qualify as a responsible adult. But, I had Will for reinforcements. So off we went.

It was actually fun. Malia is 2 and getting her molars in. So her mom was worried that she might be a little bit off. She threw a few puzzle pieces at Will, but I don't know if that qualifies as "off" or "playing." 

We went out to eat and had a little bit of an adventure with the car seat. You see, Will let Malia pick out her own jacket and she picked out the biggest, fluffiest red snow parka to wear. And Malia and her jacket didn't both fit into the car seat. So, we took off the jacket, strapped the kid in the car seat and used the parka as a blanket. I know, we're brilliant. But I think Malia thought we were pretty dumb due to the whole 10 minutes of figuring out the car seat part.

All in all, the night was a roaring success - as Will said, Malia still had all 10 fingers and all 10 toes. So we'd done a good job.

Sunday - Pain

I woke up in pain on Sunday. The throbbing, knife searing pain that comes and goes with my Crohn's. I haven't had it since surgery in January. But there it was, ruining my day. 

Usually, when I get this kind of pain, I end up in the ER throwing up all over the place. It was really fun to do that on a work trip where my boss had to take me into the ER. Fortunately, she was awesome and a half and even though I loved working for her before that, I really loved working for her after. She stayed in the ER with me chatting about all kinds of silliness until I got discharged at 3 am.

And then a few months before our wedding, I had another case where I ended up in the ER. Fortunately, I was in Boulder and Will could take me. And he hung out with me in the ER until almost 5 am. We put the whole "in sickness and in health" stuff to test well before getting married - and lucky for me Will was still up for the job.

So yesterday, I was determined not to end up throwing up in the Boulder ER. I found some remaining pain meds from my surgery and took them. Which knocked me out - my brain and body were worthless yesterday. But I got a chance to watch some movies and sleep off the pain meds. It wasn't the way I planned to spend my day, but it also didn't end up with throwing up in the ER. So, I'd call it a draw.

Things That Make Me Happy

Today has been one of those days. 

I cried at work. And since I work at home when I'm not working in other states, I get to deal with things like answering the door to let the cable guy in looking a (hot?) mess. Even mustering up what was hopefully a cheerful, "Hi! Thanks for coming to fix our cable, here's where we are having issues kthxbye!" didn't really hide the swollen red eyes and snotty nose. 

I do pride myself on being an optimist, seeing the glass as half full. So in the spirit of looking on the bright side of life, here's my list of things that made me really happy today:

1. Top Chef started! OMGOMGOMG - two chefs from Boulder are competing this season! I have to say that Boulder has become quite a culinary hot bed in the 6 years since I re-moved here. Frasca and The Kitchen get written up quite often. And now, chefs from Centro and Jax are in one of the best shows ever! I was already quite excited for the new season, and now I'm simply giddy to cheer on the home-town heroes!
2. Will! Due to the fact that Will works from home too, he could hear the conversation that made me cry through my ear piece. Not many people are lucky enough to have their husband give them a well needed hug during tough work conversations. Also, we had a good laugh coming up with a story about why a police car was heading into our neighborhood as we headed out for dinner tonight. We thought either our cat was busted for dealing catnip, or our elderly neighbors were busted for dealing pot. When we got back home, there wasn't evidence to confirm either scenario, though the cat was still home. So clearly he hadn't been hauled off to the clink. Also, we don't really think our elderly neighbors deal drugs. But if you knew them, you'd think it was a pretty funny idea too!
3. Noodles & Co! Nothing like a big plate of delicious carbs to make everything better. Okay, maybe not the healthiest response to stress, but at least I ate something other than mac and cheese.
4. My college roommate, Carrie's, new nephew! Haven't met Parker yet, but he sounds beautiful even though he was 11 days late. New babies put life into perspective and hearing about this new guy makes me happy.

So I'm going to wrap up my day, snuggle with my cat, and get a good night of sleep. Tomorrow doesn't have any mistakes in it yet, so wish me luck that I can keep it that way!

Sey-rah & SINdy Campaign in Boulder

Boulder is a little, um, liberal, for those who haven't noticed. In fact, the Colorado Republican party ran ad campaigns against a democratic Senate candidate with attacks calling the opponent a "Boulder Liberal," like that was on par with Osama bin Laden and clubbing baby seals.  The "Boulder Liberal" won, by the way.

I had a group of friends that decided the Wednesday before Halloween that we should really go out this year on Pearl St. We don't have kids (yet), and a good college friend was in town - all reasons to drink like fishes.  The hard part, of course, was coming up with costumes.

In the end, we had a whole group of Republicans heading out to Pearl St. I was Cindy McCain, complete with pain pills and pearls. If only I had a black turtleneck instead of a white one. Will was my secret service agent. We had a Maverick with us - dressed as Top Gun Maverick, but in spirit a true mavericky maverick (wink, wink). We had Todd Palin. We also had a truly outrageous Jem and a gaucho. I don't know their political affiliations, but they didn't mind being seen with us.

The true star of the show was my friend, Colleen, who was a spot-on Sarah Palin. She had the hair, she had the glasses, she had the Nordstrom $1,750 price tag sticking down the back of her suit jacket. People were losing their minds when they saw her walking down Pearl St., wanting to take photos with her and talk to her. If Colleen wasn't there with her husband (dressed as Todd Palin, of course), there was a nerd-costumed guy at the bar that would have gladly gotten her number and followed up.

The funny thing is, Colleen has never been a big Halloween costume person. It was never her thing to dress up as someone else. I can think of a few Halloweens in college and after trying to figure out a costume for Colleen on Halloween day. So for her to literally have the best costume by far was a surprise and so fun. And maybe next year she'll kick it up another notch! Start working on her costume in August. Or maybe, two days before is the secret to Colleen's success.

Hope, Yet H8te

I've just let out a big exhale for a breath I didn't know I've been holding for the past 8 years. As I watched Obama's acceptance speech last night with tears in my eyes I thought, "I finally matter again."

Not that the past 8 years have been completely miserable. I met and married the love of my life. I watched friends and relatives have babies, believing that the future held more than the present. I made strides in my career. I made new friends and kept the old. I learned something new each and every day for the last 2,920 days.

But the hardest days have also happened in the last 8 years. I functioned day-to-day through a debilitating painful disease. I've watched as my investment in my future - taking the leftover money from college to buy a house - has dwindled to "dear God please let me just break even" after living here 7 years. I watched my Dad, who was a rock, suffer through depression on a level I'd never seen before, and hope to never see again. I watched my Mom write a letter to the president explaining how painful my dad's illness was to our family, asking him to help pass legislation to take better care of vets. Only to get a form letter back that didn't address any of her concerns. I watched a war start that hasn't ended. I watched problems emerge, only to have the government say that shopping was the solution. I watched the rich grow richer, even as I came to the realization that I will not be the millionaire I thought I would when I was little. I've pondered whether or not I'll be able to give my (future) child(ren) the life my parents gave me, and pretty much have come to the conclusion that it will be radically different. I've lost my pride in being an American because we had truly become the "ugly" part of our reputation.

And yet last night, I felt proud again to be an American. I felt like the small guy mattered. I felt like my $50 donation to the campaign was as appreciated as any big-wig corporate money-tree. I felt like we could be world leaders again - in science, the arts, in human rights, in being creative and solving problems. I felt like Obama is asking us all to be part of making this country right again - and hell yeah, I'll sacrifice to make this world a better place.  

I was actually registered as a Republican for a long time. I grew up wanting to marry Alex P Keaton and be a yuppy lawyer. I believed, and still do, very strongly in states rights and fiscal responsibility. But I also believe that the measure of a good community, state and nation is how we treat the least among us. That we protect and take care of those that can't take care of themselves. That we educate children. That we care for the sick. That plants and animals count in our equations of wealth. That we don't cause our own extinction. And so, I'm now registered as a Democrat. Don't let me down, okay Democrats?

And yet, in the midst of all this hope, eyes welling with tears among my renewed pride, I'm devastated by the passing of Proposition 8 in California. This is one of the final frontiers of discrimination in this country and I can't be okay with 51% of folks saying that gay marriage is illegal.

I love too many people in this world who are gay. Back when I was single, I analyzed a lot of the relationships around me. And it was a relationship between two men that made me think, "That's the kind of relationship I want." They both have AIDS, and wake up every day committed to caring for each other. And they both believe that if they can love and support each other, then they make the world a better place by drawing on that foundation to care and love for those around them. That's the kind of commitment that the government should recognize.

The folks that wrote and passed this law are acting like us straighties have the marriage thing nailed down. That we treat marriage as sacred and that we never screw it up. But 50% of marriages are projected to end in divorce - so clearly this isn't something treated with reverence by those who currently can get married. How come it is okay for straight pop stars to get married and divorced within 55 hours, but not okay for couples that have been committed to each other for decades to get married? 

So yes, we've come so far... and believe you me, we've got a long way to go.