Dr. Google

Well, it's official, I have shingles. What is up with that name anyway? It's very unglamorous as disease names go. I would much rather be able to say "I have the dreaded spotted archipelagoitis of the upper torso, oh dear god!" than "I have shingles...". Oh well. It's most definitely better than saying, oh that rash all over my side? Yeah, that's just bed bug bites.
So once again I have fallen victim of my own reluctance to see a doctor in a timely fashion, and now it is too late for me to take the medication necessary to shorten the duration of the disease. All because I consulted Dr. Google instead of my family doctor. When will I learn? Although I have to admit, it was a fairly honest mistake that I made in my self diagnosis initially. I mean, think about it. I was waking up in the night thinking something had just bitten me, because that was what it felt like - little prickling nipping sensations. And then sure enough, the next day I would see these itchy bumps showing up all over my stomach, my side, then my arm, my back....Apparently my doctor - my real doctor, not Dr. Google - thinks I have a mild case, since I have survived now almost two weeks with it without any great amount of pain, just enough to annoy me, but not enough to drive me to go see my real doctor soon enough to take any medicine to combat it. Oh well. I was so relieved to discover that it WAS shingles and not the horrible insect infestation that I originally was obsessed with, that I rather nonchalantly posted it as my facebook status, and was shocked to receive about 25 hits almost immediately from friends who have had it and were very concerned with how I am feeling, and to make sure to get the pain medication etc etc. So either I have "lucked out" so to speak, and really do have just a mild case, or the worst is still to come. I prefer to believe that I have super human powers of pain tolerance. Or I have just gotten so used to not feeling well - as in chronic sinus headaches daily, and a knee that feels like it is full of broken glass - that what's a little needly nerve pain? Not that I turned down the prescription for the "nerve" medication that the doctor insisted I hang on to in case things get worse. It's good to be prepared, that's the way I roll. In the meantime, I will self medicate with a glass of wine, and get set to cheer on the Canucks in the next round of hockey playoffs!

self diagnosis

Does anyone else out there do this? You wake up one day with oh, let's say, a rash. Instead of going to a doctor, you just get on the internet and google "rashes"....and see where it takes you. Okay, I'll admit it, this is exactly what I did about a week ago, when a mysterious rash appeared on my stomach and my side...and then my arm...assuming it was likely some kind of insect related thing, since I felt otherwise fine, I quickly narrowed it down to - oh dear god! - bed bug bites. Because that is just about the worst, most creepy crawliest thing I came across during my computer self doctoring journey, so that must be it, right? Anyway, once I had it in my head that there was even the remotest possibility that this indeed was the problem, I began systematically dismantling my entire bedroom. I'm talking about going through my entire closet, my dressers, throwing out clothes, washing everything else twice in hot water. Then I pulled apart the bed, got rid of the pillows, the duvet, washed all the sheets etc in hot hot water every day for a week, and then proceeded to vacuum every square inch of my box spring and mattress daily also, and naturally every other square inch of my bedroom. During all of this no one else in the house appeared to be afflicted with any sort of skin abnormality, but I remained convinced that I was battling an infestation. At night I would wake up, sure that if I turned on the light I would see them, crawling all over the sheets...okay, I actually got up, found a flashlight and spent ages crawling around the bed, lifting the covers, the sheets, looking all around, but found nothing.
Anyway. So this morning I get up, and as I'm dressing the rash that has reached my back starts to burn and prickle...so I contort myself and with the help of a couple of mirrors I attempt to have a closer look at what the hell is going on back there. Meanwhile, I realize that my arm is also burning and prickling...and suddenly the light bulb goes on. I mean the one in my head, not the one in the bathroom. A clustery rash, blistery bumps, burning prickly pain, and all on one side of my body...and off I go to the computer again, to google "shingles" this time. Aha! As I continue to read I become more and more convinced that THIS is what I have. And really, it doesn't look so bad. In fact, I'm pretty damn happy if this is what it is, 'cause I'll definitely take shingles over frigging BED BUGS in a red hot second, that's for damn sure. Okay, but yes, just to make sure, I did call and make an appointment to see the doctor tomorrow, because you never know. But I am feeling pretty good about this diagnosis - who knew that finding out you have shingles would bring me such relief?? And the other good news is that my house got one hell of a good cleaning before I figured it out, so it's a win win situation all around. Well, sort of. Kind of an always look on the bright side of life scenario really. God, I'll be so disappointed if it turns out to be something else tomorrow....well, something worse I mean. :) Oh, and it's really kind of serendipitous, actually, because you see, you get shingles only if you've had the chickenpox - which I got for my 6th birthday, in fact. And this Friday is my 44th birthday...so seems rather fitting, doesn't it?

Scrapbooking

So I recently had an excuse to enter the world of scrapbooking. Now let me be perfectly clear. I am not interested in scrapbooking. Never have been, and after this episode I can definitely say I never will be. This is not to say anything against those who enjoy this past time. To each his own, right? It's just not my thing. So why did I scrapbook you ask? Well, my friend is getting married. And she is really into scrapbooking. And so for her bridal shower we decided to ask all the guests to do a scrapbook page of their memories of the bride, and bring to the shower to be presented in a book as a gift. It seemed like a good idea at the time...So I dutifully made my way to the dollar store to pick up some supplies, as obviously never having done this before, I don't have so much as a sticker or a pair of fancy scissors in my possession. I found myself in an entire aisle of doohickeys for the art of scrapbooking, and realized very quickly that I just might be in over my head a bit. Actually I realized that I was most likely about to drown, but I took some deep breaths and plunged in anyway, because I love my friend, and I figured oh come oh, how hard could this really be? Dear god, if I had only known. I wandered up and down the aisle and found myself starting to just randomly pull items off the shelves and pegs and throwing them in my basket. I had no idea it was so complicated, that so much STUFF was required. Suddenly I started to feel really pressured, I mean, we're talking about me presenting a page as a special gift to someone who is REALLY good at this kind of thing, and I really didn't want mine to look like it came from a complete loser. Anyway. I finally figured I had enough stuff, and headed home. Then I put it all away in the corner of my room and tried not to think about it for a day or so. But since it didn't seem to magically be getting itself done, I hauled it all out on Friday, which was a professional day for the kids so no school, and got started. I would normally not try to to a task like this that requires me to concentrate when the kids are home, but I suspected that I might end up needing them to take over and finish it for me if I got too desperate. I labored - and I mean labored - all day, sweating, hunched over, getting glue in all the wrong places, paper cuts, and a huge headache. Finally I was done, or at least as done as I was going to ever be. And really, I thought it didn't look too bad. Certainly not like something that I had exerted that much effort into, but pretty decent nonetheless. I proudly took it downstairs to show it off to my family, feeling like I had physically actually run a marathon, and they were all suitably impressed. My husband even said it was better than he had expected from me...I know there's an insult in there somewhere but I'm not going to think too hard about it. Then the next morning the girls asked if they could make a page for the scrapbook too. So I said sure, and handed off the bag of stuff to them, found a picture they could use, and sent them downstairs to create. However, a few minutes later my husband announced that he was going off to do some work at a friends house and was going to take the kids with him, since I was heading out to some shopping of my own. I went downstairs to break the news that they would have to work on their scrapbook page later in the day, only to discover that they were nearly finished. I mean it, they were all but done. Just some words to write on one last piece of paper, and that was it. And it looked GOOD. In fact, they had probably twice as much stuff on the page as I had on mine, all nicely mounted on card stock with appropriately placed stickers beside them in all the right places. Well, I thought, so much for my plan of telling everyone that the kids had done my page for me, isn't that SWEET? They had just kicked my scrapbooking butt. Oh well. It's not like I was ever planning to do this again anyway. Not mention that my friend that we were all making these pages for knows me all too well, and therefore will totally appreciate the blood, sweat and tears that went into the page that I created for her. Which is what it's all about after all. So I pack up the pages, and the next day I take them to the shower where they are placed in a book with everyone else's. And when my friend gets to my page, she oohs and ahhs and laughs and then reads the little blurb I wrote and when she gets to the end, her voice cracks and she gets teary, and I feel totally content with my efforts, it was all worth it. And next time a scrapbooking duty of any kind is required of me, I will not hesitate for a moment to hand it off to the much more capable hands of my daughters. This was definitely a once in a lifetime thing for my once in a lifetime friend!

friends

I'm back. Survived spring break more or less intact. Trying to get my head around the real world again - oops, got bills to pay, need groceries, when exactly is soccer practice? Spent Monday doing laundry in a daze, it was all I could handle. After some industrious housework Tuesday morning however, I organized some lunch and prepared for a visit from an old friend. Sorry L, let me clarify - old as in we've been friends for a long time, not old as in old! The past couple of years have been very up and down for both of us, lots happening in our personal lives, more than the usual you could definitely say. And so time passed, and it had suddenly been a really long time since we had spent time together. But me with kids in school, and her with a massage appointment close by to my place, we had the perfect excuse to play catch up. Now there are friends, and then there are friends. Do you know what I mean? There are people you get together with after a long time apart and you fuss and you worry - does my house look okay, do I look okay?? - and then there are people who you know your house could be a disaster and so could you, but it wouldn't matter in the least. L is that kind of friend - it never feels like any time has passed at all when I talk to her. Sure, we've both gotten a couple of years older - that's code for a couple of years wrinklier, saggier, etc etc! - but honestly I realized that as we sat and visited she looked to me just the same as she always had. L is a beautiful girl, very tall, gorgeous dark hair, blue eyes and a great big laugh - she has always made me feel warm when I'm with her, warm as in cozy, comfy. I'm sure I'm like most women my age, getting hyper critical of my looks, as time is starting to definitely stamp it's mark upon my face and body, sigh, and I know my friend feels the same way, so it was weird when I suddenly caught myself looking at her and just seeing HER, the way she has always looked to me - warm, beautiful, vivacious. Funny huh? Maybe that's when you know you're really friends with someone - you pick up just where you left off, and when you part you feel younger again yourself. I hope she felt the same way. Anyway, in case I don't get around to telling you this L - we have great intentions of getting together but time does get away on us - I hope you read this and you get what I mean. It's just a reminder to me of what I said to myself earlier this year about cleaning house - as in my personal house. My promise to surround myself with people who make me feel GOOD, not stressed out or stuffed full of negativity and anger. Hey, maybe I'll get really lucky and if I clean out my mind, my body will follow. Or something like that. Although that kind of sounds like an ad for Alzheimer's, or perhaps a cult of some sort. Whatever, I'll take it if it makes me happy!

Shameless on Showtime

Shameless on Showtime
If I ever had (or have) any doubts about my parenting skills, thank you to Frank Gallagher for dispelling them - nay, for driving them into the ground. I feel so much better about myself after watching the first season of Shameless, the best thing to hit TV in a long long long time.

Spring Break Down

Yes indeed it's that time of year again. Two weeks - yes we get 2 weeks - of spring time fun with the kids, no school.....otherwise known as spring breakdown time. So with a house full of kids and the weatherman playing cruel tricks on me, I attempt to keep my sanity and maintain some level of peace around here until April 4 when they go back to school. In other words, don't expect to hear much from me, other than the occasional desperate latenight attempt to sit at the computer when everyone is finally asleep....

I will be trying to keep a running log of our daily activities on the Moody Girls blog, but as for "me" time, it will be in short supply for about a fortnight. Wish me luck!

forever young

Yesterday I posted a little something I found on Youtube that I couldn't resist called Middle Aged Women Behaving Badly. Just a collection of moments captured on video of women of a certain age and beyond, simply engaging in behavior that while might not necessarily have been bad, was ultimately more than they could handle. It was funny because of course they thought they COULD handle it, most likely because maybe they once could and did handle it. And then time marches on and an occasion arise to participate in something that you suddenly remember was super fun once upon a time, and before you have time to think about it, you're jumping on that trampoline, or swinging on that rope swing...and then disaster of course strikes, because let's face it, you're 44 years old, not 14, and oh yeah, the old bod isn't quite what it used to be. Even when you're a fit 44. Because whether we want to accept it or not, 44 really isn't 14, or 24, or even 34, damn it. Sometimes it's a sneaky betrayal, like the way your knee insists on hurting every time you go for a walk (you can ignore this level of betrayal for years), and sometimes it's right in your face totally unavoidable, like breaking your toe trying to re-enact an episode of dancing with the stars, or throwing your back out doing downward facing dog. I mean, I think these are reasonable things that I should be able to handle doing, and for the most part I can, but now and then my body decides otherwise and says "NO! NOT TODAY!" very clearly. And then I just feel bewildered and somewhat (or very) pathetic. Time is a weird thing. Today I had coffee with an old friend of mine. My first friend in fact when I moved back to Canada with my family at the age of 14. We have only seen each other a few times in the past 25 years since high school, but are both back in the same city once again, and so have gotten back into touch. And it's so weird really, because I can sit and talk with him and honestly, I just don't feel a day over 18. It's like no time has past at all, when of course lots has, so much that we have trouble figuring out just exactly where each other was during which year etc. So while my body continues to march to the beat of time's drum, my head and my heart apparently don't. Figuratively speaking of course. I remember asking my mother when she turned 50 if she felt different and she told me she felt just the same as she did when she was 18. I thought that was pretty interesting and amazing, and now of course, I am going through the same experience myself. I came away from my coffee chat feeling quite energized, quite bubbly, quite young in fact. So maybe that's the secret to staying young - spend some time with someone who knew you when you really were young, because that's how you still seem to each other. It sure worked for me today - plus it was a whole lot safer than death defying dance moves or trampolines!