Not Okay and I Don't Know Why

The toddler has an old camera and loves to take pictures. She poses her toys for elaborate portraits. There's a whole 'up the nostrils' series and our ceiling fan is her favorite subject.

We've had a few conversations about privacy. As in, don't take pictures of Mommy peeing on the toilet or coming out of the shower. Mostly, though she is intent on capturing the world as she sees it, which is awesome to watch. Every toddler should have a camera.

If I had my act together, I would have downloaded the photos and shared a few, leading up to the pic she snapped of me huddling on the couch. But I'm not together.

The post-vacation headache lasted a week. Despite NSAIDs, every afternoon I ended up head butting a pillow trying to ease the pain.

That has passed, but I just can't shake the fatigue. So now I'm on the couch because of the fatigue. Note that I am not a napper, something has to be going on for me to lay down.

It could be adrenal, I guess, but I am hesitant to take steroids as I can mostly push through to do what needs to be done, well, except for the daily nap part. There aren't too many other adrenal hallmarks. No weakness, or heaviness in limbs and the bp has been trending higher than usual, not lower than usual.

Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is I'm tired of feeling awful. I want to wake up ready to greet the day. I want a clear head, not this lingering fogginess that makes everything hard. Technically, there is nothing wrong with me so...

Maybe I'm allergic to vacations?

Riddle Me This

So I actually weighed myself after the vacation binge.

Didn't gain an ounce.

I just assumed I had due to all the bloatage, but nope.

Zippo.

Ate pie every day.

Double decker ice cream cones.

Cookies.

Bread, specifically to-die-for grilled cheese with brie, bacon and tomato jam.

I made sure to eat only when I was hungry even if it meant skipping meals. I also walked daily. At least a mile, sometimes two. And I took the equivalent of a cold bath everyday in the Lake, which was cold enough to make limbs approach numbness (which I'm guessing revved up the metabolism a bit).

Here's what I don't understand. I can cut carbs to the bone. Exercise intensely and don't lose weight.

Yet, I can maintain weight in the face of a week long sugar coma despite supposed severe insulin resistance.

It just doesn't compute.

Coincidentally, my last bout of weight loss stopped when I discontinued the ice therapy as described in The Four Hour Body. Do I just need to take a cold bath every day? (I don't think I can hack it though.)

Or, alternate theory, did I have a touch of the adrenals? The cramps in the small muscles of my feet and hands are classic adrenal insufficiency symptoms for me. Along with the flank pain. But that has passed.

I'm back to low carbing and interval running (which is going amazing because of the pylometrics I've been doing. FYI if you want to run, do squat jumps first, then run, it'll give you a head start).

Now the scale is being a bitch even though I'm doing all the right things.

So should I be eating pizza, fries and ice cream now?

Why is my metabolism such a strange brand of screwed up? Why can't I just do Weight Watchers like everyone else?

Exercise Blah Blah Blah

Asthma is good. Knee is doing okay. Gallbladder is mostly behaving. Working on losing the weight from vacation. Mostly water from carb bloat.

What's killing me now is the sugar detox. Blazing headaches and fatigue for the last three days as my body realizes the week long cherry pie eating contest is over.

Ran, walked, galloped with our idiot yellow lab tonight, which I hope has helped clear some of the haze. Aerobically, I'm doing pretty good since I can run and continuously yell at the dog so he doesn't trip me.

Also, I gallop sooooo much faster than I run, the push-off from the glutes really adds to the distance I can cover. Note to self: When evading serial killers and/or rabid dogs*, gallop, don't run.

*I was attacked by a dog when I was 8 months pregnant, so this has happened. Fortunately, I was meaner than the dog.

I picked a preschool and went with the better schedule, one that allows lots of exercise. The new Zumba class I found (and like) is run by the local inflatables place. For $5 they'll provide childcare, allowing the toddler to jump and run to her heart's content. This is a pretty handy thing for the winter months. Especially when you're told to keep your kid active as an adjunct to physical therapy. So twice a week, I exercise, she exercises and then goes to preschool while I work.

Plus she can sleep as long as she wants in the morning. Last year, she really wasn't ready to get up at 8am and it was tough for her to adjust.

Let's just hope this year goes better for her socially than last year. The Early Intervention people will be working with her preschool, so hopefully their input and supervision will keep things on track

Back in the Saddle

We are home.

I am pooped.

Hubby ended up in Urgent Care with swimmer's ear that has been remarkably resistant to treatment thus far.

Since he refuses to establish with a PCP, that means another Urgent Care visit probably tomorrow.

(No, that's not how I would do it, but the hubby is his own man.)

The asthma was good, except for when an improperly doused campfire smoldered through our window all night. I couldn't figure out why I was up hacking like a smoker and using the rescue inhaler, until we saw the smoke the next morning (and then I smelled it, but not before). Once the fire was truly out, everything settled down.

I used to be able to handle fires, but, a few years ago, my lungs made it clear those days were over. When the family gathers around the campfire, I sit inside with all the windows shut.

Today I am having some post-vacation adrenality. Burning flank pain and muscle cramps, particularly in the small muscles of my feet. The plan is to out-sleep it.

Meanwhile, I've been sending this important article to everyone I know:

Profit from Ecological Mayhem

“Energy “will give us serious and sustained problems” over the next 50 years as we make the transition from hydrocarbons — oil, coal, gas — to solar, wind, nuclear and other sources, but we’ll muddle through to a solution to Peak Oil and related challenges. Peak Everything Else will prove more intractable for humanity. Metals, for instance, “are entropy at work . . . from wonderful metal ores to scattered waste,” and scarcity and higher prices “will slowly increase forever,” but if we scrimp and recycle, we can make do for another century before tight constraint kicks in.

Agriculture is more worrisome. Local water shortages will cause “persistent irritation” — wars, famines. Of the three essential macro nutrient fertilizers, nitrogen is relatively plentiful and recoverable, but we’re running out of potassium and phosphorus, finite mined resources that are “necessary for all life.”

We are living this now. It's not some distant future, it's here today.

There is no economic recovery against this backdrop, only more poverty for more people…unless there are major innovations on multiple fronts...which I’m not holding my breath.

The Vacation Post that Barely Mentions my Health

I love the Great White North that is Northern Michi-gan. The beaches are so gorgeous, even the butterflies come by to sunbathe. Everyone should vacation in the Trav-erse City area once in their lives. It should be on everyone's bucket list.

The first day, we body surfed in 5-8 foot waves. I was ankle deep in the Lake and one wave hit me at the waist only to be followed by another that got me in the boobs. Crazy! The water was so rough, it seemed like even the ocean had stopped by for a visit to the UP.

The toddler (in a life jacket, with Daddy as lifeguard) and I screamed like we were on roller coasters. The water was polar bear cold and the day was cool, but the waves were so. much. fun. no one cared they were freezing.

Yesterday, we returned to the same beach and found the lake whimpering meekly on the shore. Booooring. Instead of jumping carnival-ride waves, we got sunburned. Humph.


Today, the family, including the hubby, is on a fishing trip, leaving me with toddler duty. Given that the hubby hates fishing, and my extended family is more cantankerous than usual, I have the better end of the bargain. He's on a boat right now silently chanting 'at least the fish will be delicious' and 'I will not chuck anyone off the boat.'

So I slept in until 9, let the toddler watch cartoon after cartoon on networks she's never seen and threw in a load of laundry. Now I'm waiting for the washer to finish so we can go to the farmer's market and a rumored art activity (everyone has told me about it, but I have yet to see the fliers they've seen).

The really big news? The toddler wrote her name for the first time and then typed several words on the computer as well as maneuvered the mouse, also for the first time. She just blossomed, right in front of us.

You know it's a developmental spurt when they are so focused on a new skill, you can't even capture their attention with the promise of ice cream. We waited until fatigue made her less accurate with the mouse, and then pried her fingers off the keyboard and took her to the ice cream stand where we stuffed her with caramel ice cream.

The asthma snapped back into formation the second I started a new Symbicort inhaler. There is something wrong with those dang inhalers. I keep having this issue.


(Note: Click to enlarge the pic above to see the butterfly. My camera is good, but not good enough to get great detail on such a small thing.)

So I'm having a good time and can finally breathe. Winning!

Pre Vacation Wheeze

1. I have been struggling with adrenality, but hope a day of no exercise and a good night's sleep will put me right as rain.

Why the struggle?

The stress of trying to get things done professionally and for our upcoming vacation has been immense. Which does not help. I'm just not as resilient as I used to be.

And...

2. The asthma is spinning out of control for no good reason. I have been suspicious of the current Symbicort inhaler since there were 30 doses left.

When the inhaler seems wonky with just 5-10 doses left, I can abandon it and start a new one. With 30 doses, that's not feasible. So I've had signs of mild steroid withdrawal and been making do with the rescue inhaler.

Today I started wheezing.

This has been a consistent problem with Symbicort and I haven't had much luck getting anyone's attention.

Since the advent of inhalers like Advair and Symbicort, asthma is a non-issue unless there's a bug bad enough to outpace the medication. Wheezing without an underlying infection? Is just unheard of for me now.

Or it could be the fatigue triggering the asthma. That can happen, although, very rare since Advair/Symbicort entered my lungs.

When I was a teen? Shopping at the mall would make me wheeze. I used to have to sit and rest. I never had the stamina to stay long. Once I was tired, I wheezed.

So maybe the fatigue is getting to me? But then where was the wheezing all those other times?

Anyway, I'm trying a spacer with the Symbicort. With Advair you didn't need one and I haven't been using it, but maybe there's something wrong with the Symbicort delivery mechanism or my timing (although I've always had good 'inhaler form'--total Olympic team quality there).

If the spacer doesn't help, I'm almost ready to start a new inhaler and I have Pulmicort as a back-up. Up until the wheezing started, I was just always tight and unable to 'pinch an inch' on my chest along with painful breathing. I had hoped it would clear up on its own, with just a boost from the albuterol, but it's not.

In My Dreams

My health often intrudes in my dreams. Most notably, for decades now, nocturnal asthma will trigger dreams of suffocation, strangulation and drowning.

Last week, when the asthma was not well controlled? I didn't worry too much because, although I woke up tight and unable to 'pinch an inch', I didn't have any dreams. Which told me I was breathing okay.

I just took the albuterol inhaler every morning and before exercise until I stopped waking up so tight. Easy.

A few years ago there were the nightmares of heart attacks due to a benign sinus arrhythmia jacked up on caffeine and new baby sleep deprivation. Those dreams scared the bejeezus out of me since they featured angry ER staff screaming I was going to die.

I would wake up from those dreams and have to talk myself out of calling 911. They were that frightening. My heart jerking around like an over-enthusiastic puppy on a short leash didn't help.

Now the gallbladder is getting in on the action. The first night, it simply woke me up by rattling my ribcage. I rolled over to take the pressure off and that was it.

Then last night. Whoa. There were dreams of appendicitis and an abdominal aortic dissection surgery. On an UFO, no less. When I woke up, the pseudo appendicitis pain was there, explaining the dream. Although I'm still confused on the UFO bit.

In a recent issue of Oprah magazine focusing on intuition, there was a profile of a woman who discovered her colon cancer because of her dreams. She had intensely disturbing dreams for weeks, and kept going to her doctor, saying something was wrong. The doctor blew her off, citing impeccable physical results. So, the next time, she had the dream, she begged it for more information.

"Go deeper," the dream told her.

When she woke up, she asked her doc where the deepest part of the body was.

"Your colon."

And that's how she had a colonoscopy and discovered a pretty serious colon cancer that would have killed her without the impetus of her dreams.

My dreams are not that exciting (thankfully), but the story illustrates their power. The connection of our health to our subconscious.

However, me personally? I would not complain if my body left me alone in my dreams. It would be nice to have a safe haven.