Complications

Apparently, the good Lord has decided that my life isn't complicated enough already. Fibromyalgia, vertigo, nausea? Too easy. Having to strap myself into an apparatus & breathe through a Hazmat mask everytime I want to get some sleep (AKA the horror of sleep apnea)? Come on! Attempting to live peacefully in the same house as my parents (one of whom has only a tenuous grip on her sanity)? Cakewalk. Flooding in my basement & siding popping off in chunks? Girl, please!

So, here's what happened: I went for my semi-annual checkup with my rheumatologist a few weeks ago, which always includes some basic bloodwork to check for possible side-effects from all my various meds & treatments. All went well, so I scheduled my next visit for 5 months from now & went on my merry way. A week later, Mark goes to our family physician for a routine check, just to get his prescriptions refilled for another year. He comes home that afternoon, looking a little frazzled. Concerned, I asked him how it went... Wrong move! Mark then proceeds to tell me that he is fine, but that our doctor told him that I had type 2 diabetes. Um, what?!

Apparently my rheumatologist had checked my sugar as part of the bloodwork he did, and had sent a copy of the results to my primary care doctor. "Aha!" thought I. "Well, that explains it. He didn't tell me to fast before having my blood drawn, and I know I had breakfast and lunch that day. So I'm sure that result wasn't accurate." Still, I thought it would be smart to take some random glucose readings at home, just to see how things were on a regular basis. My mom has a meter that she doesn't need to use anymore, so I borrowed it for the 2 weeks between hearing this news & my next appointment with my doctor.

Suffice it to say that I was less than thrilled with the results... My first reading, taken before breakfast, was 237 mg/dl (for those of you who may not be familiar with normal glucose levels, my understanding is that fasting glucose is supposed to be 110 mg/dl or less). The following days were no better: 256... 197... 243... 222... 195... 281. The best (?) reading I had in that two week period was a 165. Subsequent testing ordered by my doctor reinforced the ugly truth.

And that's the story of how Mark gave me diabetes. I mean, what the hell?! He's no longer allowed to go to the doctor without supervision - the last thing I need is for him to come home one day & tell me that I've got the plague or something. Unbelievable!

Seriously, though, I think Mark has been more worried about all this than I have. Poor guy! As much as I like to tease him about the circumstances of my diagnosis - and I really, really do - it would have to suck to be in his position & have to tell someone you love that they have a life-altering, potentially fatal disease. As I expected, he has also been nothing but supportive and understanding, signing up to go to diabetes care classes with me (4 weeks in a row!) and listening patiently as I obsess about all the new information I'm trying to absorb. Mark has always been my hero, but now I might seriously have to look into getting him a medal or something.

As for me, I'm still feeling a little shell-shocked by the whole experience. I can't say that the diagnosis was a real surprise - I'm very overweight, more sedentary than ever before, and I usually base my food choices on what's the most convenient at the time. Of course, I can blame some of this on my fibromyalgia, but the truth is that I knew better and still did nothing to avoid the possible ramifications of my lifestyle - including diabetes. I take full responsibility for my predicament and the poor choices that led me here... well, except for the part where Mark gave me diabetes. Bastard. ;>)

But the first choice I made in dealing with my new lifestyle was to look at all the positive things that I have going for me. Again, as much as I love to tease about it, I was actually very lucky to have been diagnosed at all in these unusual circumstances. I don't know why my rheumatologist chose to check my sugar to begin with, but it certainly would have been at least 5 months from now before he discussed it with me - assuming he noticed it at all. Had the nurses or staff at my primary doctor's office not noticed the result & flagged it for the doctor - which happens all too often, in my experience - I may never have heard about it at all. So I feel lucky to have doctors & nurses who didn't let my potentially life-threatening problem slip through the cracks.

I know it sounds bizarre, but I also think that being disabled has actually worked to my advantage in this situation. I don't have to worry about juggling meals, glucose checks, meds & insulin around a job, for example. I have plenty of free time to do research and learn all I need to know to keep my sugar as normal as possible. And most of the research I've done has stressed the psychological effects of a diabetes diagnosis, pointing out that most people go through some permutation of the 5 Stages of Grief when they learn of their condition - grief primarily based on the loss of a normal life, and having to face the future with a chronic, incurable illness. Well - been there, done that! I know that I'll have to make a lot of changes in my lifestyle over the coming months and years, but my past experiences with debilitating health conditions have prepared me for this in ways I would never have imagined.

Unfortunately, my existing health problems may also be the biggest stumbling block for me in getting my glucose under control. The best treatment for me right now is to lose weight and get lots of exercise - things that are exponentially more difficult to do with fibromyalgia. But I feel really positive about making whatever changes are necessary, and if I'm lucky, I could end up healthier and feeling better than I have ever been.

Of course, all of this could have been avoided if my husband hadn't given me diabetes in the first place. *Sigh!*

Bacon Brittle, Baby!

Ahh, the magic of Christmas...

How was your day?

Sometimes everything just seems to go right. The stars just line up and good luck follows you no matter where you go or what you do. Or so I've heard.

This was not one of those days.

I set my alarm this morning, so I'd be sure to have plenty of time to get ready for one of my favorite traditions: the Raymond family Young Ladies' Tea, which is scheduled once a year around Christmastime. My lovely and talented sister-in-law Patty arranges this awesome event each year, and it's always a ton of girly fun.

This year's tea took place at 1:00 in the afternoon, so the fact that I had to set my alarm to be ready should give you some idea of how pitiful my life is on a day-to-day basis. Anytime I need to be up before noon, I always have to set my alarm. It's possible that I might wake up before that, but I can't count on it.

But this morning, I was awake for several hours before my alarm went off...which should be a good thing. Unfortunately, the reason why I was awake on this occasion was that I was curled up in the fetal position, wracked with pain. I'm not exactly sure why - usually I can trace my most severe fibromyalgia flares back to instances of physical exertion or unusual stress. For example, I had some nasty muscle cramps & pain in my right arm starting this past Tuesday night, which were easily explained by the potato peeling & mashing I had done earlier in the evening for our post-Thanksgiving turkey feast. Not exactly weight lifting or anything, but for me, that's a lot of exercise.

But I was feeling much better by Friday, and didn't do anything else strenuous all weekend. I was itching to finally put up the Christmas tree, but I purposely didn't so I'd have a better chance of feeling well enough to party with the ladies on Sunday afternoon. I've learned to plan out my life in this fashion, trying not to schedule activities too close together so I have plenty of time to rest & recuperate between events. I did everything I could to ensure that I'd be feeling up to the 40-minute drive to Patty's and the frivolity that would ensue.

So, back to this morning... It took me about 40 minutes to unclench myself, and then I was faced with the trickiest task of the day - trying to get out of bed and into the bathroom without falling or otherwise hurting myself. When this happens to me on weekdays, my usual plan of action involves as much stretching while still in bed as my bladder can tolerate, and then a lot of trial & error. Sometimes leaning on the bedpost helps; other times my arms are far too sore to bear my weight. I have to make a few trial attempts at standing, until I'm satisfied that I've at least got a chance at holding myself upright. If I succeed, and I can manage to make it the 6 steps to the bathroom door, I'm usually good.

Other times, though, like this morning, I'm lucky enough to have Mark nearby when I'm trying to get up. I usually don't even have to ask for help - I think it's the soft sobbing & whimpering noises that tip him off. It typically takes about 10 minutes or so for him to gently extract me from the bed and guide me to the bathroom - this morning, I almost fell when I stepped on a piece of stray cellophane wrapping on the floor. I couldn't see it, since it was clear, but it felt like I had stepped on a jagged rock or some broken glass. That's pretty common with fibromyalgia, I understand - my pain threshold is just completely out of whack. A few tiny crumbs in the bed feels like sleeping on pebbles to me. I call it the "Princess and the Pea" factor. Whatever the cause, it gets really annoying sometimes, especially when I'm trying to concentrate on something important, like remaining upright. Luckily, Mark was standing by to catch me this time.

After I made my way to the bathroom & took care of business, I pulled myself back upright using the countertop, and turned to see myself in the mirror. I looked about as good as I felt: wan, unkempt, cheeks bright red from exertion, eyes bright red from tears. I looked at my hair, which was particularly askew from all my tossing & turning. I picked up my hairbrush, only to release it almost immediately with the realization that I couldn't lift my arm above my shoulder, so brushing my hair would be impossible.

It had already occurred to me that it would be unlikely that I'd be able to drive myself to the tea party, between the restricted motion and the muscle relaxers & pain meds I'd need just to get dressed. This is a common problem for me, so I had already made contingency plans for Mark to drive me if this happened. But it wasn't until I was staring at my reflection in the mirror that it dawned on me that I would never be able to get myself dressed & presentable in time for the party, regardless of whether or not I was in too much pain to have fun.

That's when I lost it. It's not unusual for my pain to cause a few tears, as it already had earlier this morning, but it's never so bad that it makes me sob uncontrollably. As Mark commented knowingly when he came to check on me, it's always the frustration that really brings the tears. And he's absolutely right. There was also sadness & disappointment that I would once again miss a family function, particularly one that is always so enjoyable. But the overwhelming feeling is always frustration: at myself, at circumstances, but mostly at this disease that has robbed me of so many things in my life. I think that, for the most part, I handle my condition and it's consequences & limitations with considerable aplomb. But days like today, which luckily only occur every so often, just push me a bit too far.

As if I didn't feel useless enough, I was unable to stop crying long enough to phone Patty to tell her I couldn't make it to the party. Every time I calmed myself down & picked up the phone, the tears would start all over again. Like I wasn't already embarrassed enough at having to cancel plans yet again - now I couldn't even pull myself together long enough to speak for myself. I finally asked Mark to call her for me, which he was happy to do. Needless to say, dignity was in short supply around here this morning.

Of course, Patty was very gracious about my cancellation and expressed her concerned for me, and I'm sure she knows that I had my heart set on spending time with her & the rest of the girls today. This is not the first time I've had to cancel plans with Patty, so I don't think she was too surprised to get the call. I just wish I had been able to express my regrets personally. Well, more than anything, I wish I had been able to actually attend in the first place, but it just wasn't in the cards today.

This is the part where I say that I'm really not feeling that sorry for myself, and that I know things aren't as bad as they sometimes seem. I had a bad day, and it was upsetting, but I still have so many blessings in my life, not the least of which is the love & support of a wonderful, caring husband. Mark was right by my side to help me up, both literally and figuratively, and I would never take that for granted. Within moments of my morning meltdown, he had me laughing and smiling, which was no mean feat. There are a million reasons why I love him, and days like this make me love him just a little bit more.

I could go on, but I think I need to stop typing for awhile & rest my arms. It starts all over again in the morning, and I'd like it to be a better morning than I had today.

Up On The Hilltop

Mark just bid adieu to his first actual "weekend" in months, by which I mean that he didn't have to spend most of it working. He did do a few work-type things today, but for the most part, he actually had a few days off - and in a row, no less. Not exactly a vacation, but we'll take what we can get.

This was definitely cause for celebration, so we planned a short road trip to one of our favorite places to unwind, particularly in the fall. It's not fancy, and there's nothing much exciting to do in the immediate area, but one thing the small town of Spencer, Indiana has to recommend it is a great little eatery called Hilltop Restaurant.

The origins of the moniker become clear immediately as you approach the Hilltop which, as the name suggests, is indeed atop a rather steep hill. I remember that years ago they used to close every winter, since the long twisty driveway would become particularly treacherous with snow or ice involved. I understand that they are now open yearlong, one would assume with the aid of a good snowplow and lots of road salt. But the delights that await you are well worth snaking your way up the incline, no matter what the weather.

The restaurant has been open under various names for almost 60 years, and it shows. I mean this in both positive and negative ways. The building shows its age, with some uneven floorboards and such, although it appears to have had some remodeling and updating over the past few years. The menu is also quite old-fashioned and somewhat limited, with your basic local staples of Hoosier fried chicken, baked ham or turkey, and the specialty Spencer Steak comprising the bulk of your choices. (Choices you make, oddly enough, in the quaint lobby before you are seated in the dining room.)

But variety is not the point at the Hilltop - you come here for an affordable, comfortable family-style meal with all the trimmings, and that is what you get. The entrees are fixed portion (i.e. 4 pcs. of chicken per diner - not exactly skimpy!), but everything else is shared by the table and is refilled as often as you like. And "everything else" here includes a lettuce salad - which is, quite literally, just lettuce tossed with a very light, sweet dressing made in-house - pickled beets, usually some raw veggies, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans (the yummy kind with lots of pork), creamy gravy and some tasty rolls accompanied by a fabulous orange marmalade.


I'm not much of a marmalade person, but this stuff is addictive. Unlike most marmalades I've had elsewhere, Hilltop's is not full of chunky bits of fruit and rind - it's almost creamy, with only a few visible flecks of finely shaved orange. It's an interesting and unexpected choice, as Southern Indiana is typically apple butter country, particularly in the autumn. But it does set Hilltop apart from other area restaurants, and as much as I like some fresh Brown County apple butter, I have to admit that I prefer the Hilltop marmalade.

Another thing that sets the Hilltop apart is its prices. We didn't even look at the menu on Saturday, as we knew what we wanted before we left home, but at last check the fried chicken dinner cost around $7-8 per adult. Drive just a few minutes east to the touristy Nashville area and you will likely pay significantly more for a comparable meal. Last time we were there, a fried chicken dinner at Nashville House cost more like $18 per person, and only included 3 pieces instead of 4. And while my family used to frequent the Nashville House back in the day, the chicken is sadly nowhere near as good as it used to be - and certainly nowhere near as good as the Hilltop's. You'd be much better served to order your Nashville House fried biscuits (their specialty, which are always excellent) to go, and make the short drive to Spencer for your chicken.

While Spencer may not have the picturesque Hoosier National Forest to recommend it (although it is right around the corner from McCormick's Creek State Park, which ain't too shabby), it is still quite scenic like most of Southern Indiana, and the area surrounding the Hilltop is almost picture-postcard perfect in the fall. The wrap-around walkway and back garden are beautiful in springtime, too, with lots of colorful flowers, but I always prefer the autumn colors - which are still stunning this year due to the late arrival of fall weather (notice I didn't say global warming... I was just thinking it).

We picked the perfect day for the trip, with sunny skies and beautiful fall colors all along the drive. As always, our meal was exceptional - the chicken was fresh, crispy and delicious, and the rolls with marmalade were heavenly. And afterwards, we enjoyed our traditional stroll around the building and through the garden. It was a perfect day, with perfect company.

I always get a little sentimental when we visit the Hilltop. Aside from the many terrific meals and memories Mark & I have shared there, it's also one of those magical places that can instantly transport me to my childhood. Nearly every Sunday of my youth, right after church, my grandparents would announce that they were going for a drive, and ask us kids if we wanted to come along - and we always did. My sister, my cousins & I must have traveled every highway and back road of Indiana (and some in Ohio, Illinois & Michigan, too) with Grandpa Don & Grandma Jeanne, usually with no destination in mind other than an off-the-beaten-path restaurant or perhaps a good antique store. Looking back, I now realize that the primary goal was almost certainly to keep us occupied & give our weary parents a much-needed break.

But these trips were a huge part of my childhood, and many of my fondest memories began with a Sunday drive with Grandma & Grandpa. I never understood how lucky we were to have that opportunity until I met my husband, whose family traditions were significantly different from mine. I always just assumed that every family went on Sunday drives to remote and interesting destinations. I thought all the kids my age had been to the Duesenberg museum in Auburn and the courthouse with the tree growing through the roof in Greensburg. One of my very first dates with Mark was a Sunday drive with Grandpa Don (this was sadly after Grandma Jeanne had passed away) to Lima, Ohio to check on his booth in the local antique mall. A lot of my personal history is wrapped up in these day trips, many of which included a stop at the Hilltop.

So as long as they'll keep serving up the tasty vittles and warm Hoosier hospitality, the Raymonds will keep coming to Spencer to soak it all in. A cherished childhood memory has become a treasured family tradition, and I think that's a wonderful thing. But even if I had never set foot in the place before yesterday, I would still recommend the Hilltop to anyone. Do yourself a favor, and let the kind folks at the Hilltop create some special memories and traditions for you, too.


----------------
Now playing: Barenaked Ladies - Light Up My Room
via FoxyTunes

Guy Love

Oh, dear. I fear that I have done something very, very wrong.

But I have to show it to you anyway.

This is a tribute to the beautiful yet unnatural love that exists between my husband & his best friend.

Oh, dear!


----------------
Now playing: Buzzcocks - Ever fallen In Love?
via FoxyTunes