Christmas

I just ate the most delicious lunch. Amanda sent me home with some roast beef last night and I stopped in at Sarah's on the way home and she gave me some homemade mac and cheese and good grief those two items were delicious. I had to counter it with some salad, but daaaaaaang that was yummy.

I started reading this book again:

I haven't read it in many, many years, and it is in my all time top 5. As soon as I started reading, I wondered if it isn't my #1, but I guess I'd have to reread all my favorites to figure that out. I ordered this a while ago in hard copy, which is odd for me lately, because I've been doing most of my reading by listening. I feel too busy to sit and read, though I can do it if the book sucks me in. It's hard to figure out what books are going to do that, and I am trying to meet my Goodreads goal- only two left. Something interesting I realized as I started reading this was that this book is the writing style I love best and one I think I try to emulate. It's honest and clean, with neat details and observations. I know I found this when I was younger, but I can't remember if it was while in high school or the military.

I have all these things in mind that I want to do, and I keep thinking I've got the time to do it eventually, but when the hell did I get to be 38? So I sat down and wrote several pages of my book. I have this ridiculous expectation that I will write 3-4 pages a day in this new year, because I've done the math, and Stephen King says the first draft of any novel should take no more than three months. Of course, that's what works for him, and I think that excludes research or revision, but it is a handy guideline to try to get the thoughts down, at least. More will come up during that research and revision process, but to get it down is the main obstacle for me. I tried to take the spirit of his advice and not reread what I've written already or try to spend time editing as I wrote. Just capture all directions as much as possible so that later, I'll know what the hell I was talking about and can clean it up then.

Christmas was lovely, and I got all kinds of wonderful and thoughtful gifts. I ate a delicious breakfast cooked in my new cast iron frying pan, and talked with family while opening gifts. Around 1, I made a mad dash to clean up and get things ready. I dropped off a little gift for a friend at the far south end of town, then stopped in at a Sarah's house to exchange gifts, then up to another A & N's for dinner. It was a really nice day and now I'm struggling to find motivation to clean and maybe even leave the house.

For bacon's sake

I stopped at Winco last night for bacon and bread because even though I already bought my groceries for the week so I wouldn't have to go back, there was that one inevitable last trip. Also, yesterday I ate the bacon I was supposed to save for today. It's always interesting to see the stores packed when they're going to be closed for one day. It's one day! We have things pretty good.

So I go to the deli and ask for two pieces of bacon and the nice woman there says, "Oh, what are you making?"
"...bacon..."

Maybe it's because I'm ordering two slices and not a pound. The dietitian told me years ago to order lunchmeat from the deli because it has less preservatives, but I've found that also lets me order exactly what I need. I am working hard on buying what I'm able to eat. And it's cheaper. I buy 36 cents worth of salami. You should see my bulk seasoning purchases. Sometimes they're so light the cashier has trouble ringing them up. That'll be 12 cents.

I meant to do a lot more baking and arranging playlists, but it looks like those will be surprise gifts when I get to them. I got out a few Christmas cards this year though, hey! I'm still lying in bed, thinking about this year. It's hard not to take stock of the negative things, especially since everyone seems to agree that 2016 was a dumpster fire. Things that happened this year feel both recent and ancient. I miss my sweet girl. I finished the training and can start volunteering to walk dogs now. I am still holding at my weight, but the massage therapist says I'm developing biceps. My friend was working with a personal trainer who told her to expect to gain weight from muscle before losing weight from fat, which is both a depressing and encouraging thought. People have constantly been asking me if I'm losing weight, so I guess I have to trust that tennis is working. Yoga with my coworker stopped with Riley's infirmity, and I think I would like to pick that back up on my own. It helps so much. There are plenty of good things to be grateful for, and lots of work ahead of me. This year I'll be working on three different leadership programs, visiting Virginia, and hopefully trying out lots of new crazy things. I can't tell you about them until I do them.

I bought Solo a few Christmas presents, and we are about to eat some breakfast and open presents together. I'll talk with the family and I can't wait to hear some reactions to things I sent. I don't expect to see Ant today, but we'll get together this week to have our Christmas and birthday celebrations. He turned 18 on Wednesday. This afternoon I'll stop by Sarah's, then join Amanda and Nataliia for dinner. After that, I'll drive around to look at Christmas lights and listen to a homemade cd of Christmas music I can actually stand. I'm off tomorrow and I'm going to sleep in, vacuum, do a puzzle, and play tennis. I'll ask Sarah to put a new sensor on me today and I'll finish listening to Gilgamesh and finish watching The Fall and head into the new year with energy and love and do my part to ensure that Trump doesn't destroy the planet. I wish you all love, energy, strength, and an amazing new year.

Cold and joggy

Mini wakes up and winces at me every time I move. Tonight was tennis, and the courts were almost dry even though there was snow this morning. I had two juice boxes and a granola bar at tennis, plus cheese and crackers and chocolate before I even left. Still haven't given myself a bolus for it, and I stopped at In & Out for a double double. I bypassed the bucket o' fries and ate the burger at home with some fresh steamed broccoli, thank you very much.

It was a good lesson. On Monday, we forgot to rewind the lights, so we had to wait for about 10 or 15 minutes in the dark while they reset. It was way too cold to stand still, so my coach kept us running around doing drills. We also jogged. I confessed that it was the most I'd jogged since tech school and asked if we could incorporate that into every lesson. We made two loops that night, and tonight he pushed me for three. Dammit, but ok.

I just finished listening to the first Game of Thrones book. It definitely had me hooked, but I did find myself asking the same questions I ask every time I think about war. I know I'll want to listen to the next one, but not yet, because I need a shorter, happier book in betwen. At least.

Ma, I love how the cubby and the round table look. Thanks for your help on those! And after a couple misfires, I did find a plate holder to display the mask Ant made.

Ant's moving back in with Chris. He seems happy about that, so I will be encouraging. He still comes to have dinner here, just not as often as I'd like. He is busy and I am busy, but there are worse things.

I have grand plans for baking and putting up my tree, but I am busy running around and that's the part I see as potentially derailing me. I definitely want to get the tree up in time to enjoy it.

It did snow last night and it was beautiful! I'm happy I live so close to work- it sounds like a lot of people had trouble this morning.

Oh, and in other ridiculous diabetes news, I have been wearing the sensor almost regularly. I need help to put it on and Ant's visits are not regular enough, so I pester Sarah. I try to have it on for my tennis lessons so I can avoid situations like tonight, but sometimes I just can't keep my blood sugar up. An unexpected complication happened when I was getting ready to go play. I put on a tank under a longsleeve shirt, then put on a pullover and my jacket. I checked my pump and found that the sensor had a weak signal. The damn receiver was blocked by too many layers of clothing. Sigh...
I changed to a lighter pullover and that fixed the problem, but seriously, there is always some ridiculous challenge lurking. This thing can read the signal from 6 feet away, but not through a body part, or even three layers of clothing! Don't be a diabetic in the cold, guys. And every night its alarm jangles me awake, telling me the signal is weak or lost altogether. I'm considering running the tubing up and wearing the pump in an arm band right next to the sensor so that it has no more excuses. I am a side sleeper, and no matter which side, I lose the signal. Sheesh.

But! I have good news to share too.
1) I told my coach I squirm when people ask if I play tennis, because I take lessons- I don't meet up to just play very often. He said I should tell them I play. "Oh, you definitely a tennis player," he said, and that felt very nice. Tonight was good- I was hitting well and hard, and he is making a tennis player out of me, despite diabeetus and my occasional clumsiness. Tonight I actually stepped on my own shoe. But I also put some spin on the ball, kept it low over the net, and returned some hard shots.
2) My massage therapist (dammit, Tracy) told me I am developing biceps! WHAAA!?!?!

Discombobulator

Mom came for a short visit a couple weeks ago. We kept it low key but still managed to fit plenty in, and I subjected her to a tennis lesson, dinner with friends, and a meeting with my mentor. We walked around downtown and checked out the art museum, went out for dinner, lunch, breakfast, froyo, iced tea, and groceries. She made the most delicious meal I have eaten in memory- baked chicken, roasted squash and carrots, and steamed fresh green beans. I threw in a couple frozen wheat rolls.

Tonight I tried making that meal on my own, seasoning the chicken ahead of time and roasting delicata squash instead of the one she made. I sliced the squash too thin or cooked it too long, but I like the crispy ones anyway. My meal was not ready together, so I ate at the counter while working on the next part and doing dishes- jesus god, so many dishes- but I cooked and even roasted the squash seeds and found that yep, they are tasty and I will eat those.

I bought my few groceries at Trader Joe's and I can't wait to try roasted Brussels sprouts. I bought more of the dang apples she loves so much and felt like maybe I can cook and eat more produce after all.

I barely left the apartment this weekend- I was struck down with the curse and was too in pain to go anywhere. I started listening to the first Game of Thrones book and I am burning through it. It's nice to be sucked into a book. Feels like it doesn't happen often enough.

I'm ready for tomorrow and the rest of the week but ready for a change. I feel bored. I got the word that I made it into the next level of the leadership programs, and that is going to have me very busy, plus there is a lot of baking I'd like to do. But you know... that's not the kind of excitement I want. But oh well. I'm going to have to take care of what's in front of me.

I got my new tennis shoes again- had to exchange them for a smaller size. I definitely should have tried them on somewhere first.

Alright, that's about as constructed as this one's gonna get.

Friendsgiving 2016

Yesterday was a nice day. I spent the morning cleaning up and doing laundry, then talked to Tracy and Dad before heading over to Sarah’s. I noticed my neighbor’s truck was still there- I would have expected him to be with his family by late afternoon, so I texted to see what he was doing. Turns out, his family canceled their plans, so I invited him and his daughter along with us. Alonso was still in town too, and planned to meet us there.

Sarah and I had already reviewed the menus- every restaurant in the casino had a different one. We picked the one with gruyere green beans. They had a two hour wait, but they took our phone number instead of us having to wait in line, so we ran off to the arcade. I had never played Mario Kart before, but I won a few rounds! The wait turned out to be only about an hour fifteen, and we wandered back over. It was a nice buffet line- lots of fancy yet yummy food- and there was no road rage. The staff was hopping but very helpful, and they kept the trays full. There was an entire dessert room full of very pretty things, and they even had a sugar free chocolate cake because they don’t know any better. (The carbs will be the same, it will taste worse, AND it will cause a laxative effect.)

I do like hosting Thanksgiving, and I also like spending it with family or friends at someone’s home, but this was nice, easy, and affordable, we were stuffed, and we had no dishes to do nor leftovers to wrangle. We enjoyed each other’s company, and everybody had a good time. Even better, politics didn’t come up once.

 

 

 

 

I hope you all had a nice Thanksgiving! 

 

Let go and let dog (I do apologize for that title, though.)

I am finally starting to feel like I have my shit together again. I miss my dog. I miss her a lot. It's still hard to connect how I've been feeling to her loss, but I'll have these pangs when I see someone with their dog. I do think I'm gone too much and I know I would have to change my life a lot to take care of a dog- it's not fair to be gone that much in addition to 40+ hours a week. Mini's bored, and she climbs in my lap every chance she gets.

I got rid of a lot of things recently because Mom came to visit and I asked her to help me organize. I didn't think that meant purge, but I am grateful for her sharp eye- I really am. Sarah asked me later when I had last done a purge like that and I really don't think I have since I moved in. I have a lot of sentimental or obligatory attachment to things I own, and sometimes that is not as necessary as I believe.

I got a little frustrated about the dog bed, because I have given away FIVE other beds, and I was just not able to get rid of Riley's sofa bed. That kind is really hard to find- not just foam, but thick foam with big bumpers- AND I got it for a great deal. It was my favorite and hers, and I couldn't bear to donate it to someone who might not take care of it, or to a shelter or a puppy because I didn't want it peed on or otherwise destroyed. I need this one to be loved. Most of my friends have more than one dog and most are too big, and besides, if I see it, I will either be sad or judgmental. I did feel like I would know when it was the right time and place, and last night I was talking with my coach about my reaction to the urging to get rid of it, and I think it might need to go to his dog.

Writing that just made me sob. Even so, I know that doesn't necessarily mean I'm wrong. My coach was very kind and polite, but it did feel right, so he said we could just do a trial so I didn't have to commit to anything. I think it probably has a new home, and it's not that it feels wrong, it just fucking hurts to let more of her go. Today I found a vet bill and realized I can probably get rid of everything in her file, and the brakes came right on. Nope! Not yet. There's a folder full of memories.

This fall, I have been watching the leaves as they turned colors, fell, dried out, were trod into pieces and absorbed into the earth. I think about Riley like this and that feels ok. Today I was realizing that if she had been asked, I think she would have wanted to go. She was old, she was tired, and her body was falling apart quickly. Again, I'm lucky in the way it went, because she wasn't uncomfortable for long, and she seemed more tired than in pain.

I came here to write about starting to get my shit together again, and I'm very happy about that, because I have been feeling like the worst mess- embarrassing and awful. It makes sense that my life should be suddenly so off-kilter, and that it would take time to figure out this new balance.

I took the pile to the thrift store on Sunday, and the night before I had the most terrible nightmare. I was in an apartment with a roommate, packing my things. The roommate was going to stay and take over the rent, and things were calm- moving was a good thing. I was walking past the bathroom and saw Chris in there, standing just out of the way to avoid being seen, but nonchalantly enough that he could deny hiding. In thinking about this dream later, I saw that this was the layout of my apartment- this was MY apartment- and the roommate was a friend of Chris's, as they all were.

I asked him what he was doing, as he wasn't supposed to be there at that time, and his answer was patently indirect. I realized that I was being broken up with, and just became ENRAGED because this wasn't the past- I was being broken up with AGAIN. Somehow I had gone through all that, lived on my own for years, gotten sucked back in and had put blinders back on along the way and found myself in the exact same place. I had surely lost so much already just going back to him and I was going to lose everything else again. This whole time had been for nothing.

I don't think that was about Chris. No worries there. The rage and powerless feelings were so bad in that dream that I woke up and my heart was pounding. Those feelings were a regular thing in those last couple years, and I'm not sure how I managed my daily life like that.

I felt like it had more to do with dating in general, and the vulnerability I'm feeling. I still don't believe anybody. Sarah thought it was about letting so much go, especially with how much emotion I had tied to those things, and especially if I hadn't purged that much since I moved out of his place and into mine. There were things in that pile that I have owned for many, many years. It made so much immediate sense, but today I found yet another connection to Riley and just loss overall. It reminds me of this quote I read recently about having smaller meltdowns more often instead of big meltdowns rarely.

I'm sorry if you're tired of reading about Riley. I really am. But I'm also tired of apologizing, not that anyone is asking me to. I've got to write more often to find my connections and process, and I don't want that to just be while I'm in recovery mode.

I keep a list of the things I do throughout the year to remind myself of the neat things I've tried or the fun places I went. This year, two other important events made the list: Ant left, and Riley died.

Let me pause to take a few deep breaths.

It's ok to be right where I am- it's better than ok. And my friends are more than happy to loan me their dogs, and when they do, they'll bring the food and the bed and the favorite toy.

It does feel better to be lighter, it's just really hard to let go.

Photo blog

Tracy said I didn't post a picture of the sensor, so here it is. The receiver is the clamshell looking thing, and the sensor is what it's attached to. What looks like a cord is just a wrinkle in the adhesive. And that adhesive is some serious stuff. I wanted to stab myself in the eyeballs when it came time to pull that off. Anyway, it's very discreet, right? Understanding how much of a pain in the ass this is should really help to illustrate how helpful it must be.

Sardine socks at H&M! Sardine socks that I actually didn't buy, can you believe that?

This is my new puzzle, and while I do think it looks pretty, this photo is more of a pointed look at the previous owner.

We've been having all these crazy storms and lots of rain and it's amazing I get anywhere with all the earthworm rescuing I've been doing, but Friday it was so pretty out with all these clouds getting tangled up on the mountains and the colors everywhere were just brilliant.

Speaking of colors, here are some of the peppers for sale at Lattin Farms. I went out there with friends to do the corn maze, which was amazing.

We started the maze just as it was getting dark, and it was so much fun. You could see just in front of you- enough to tell where the corn was and where the path was, and sometimes there was enough light to see where the mud was. Otherwise you had to listen for the squelch of someone else's shoes or sink in it yourself. I'm sure if there were less people there and I was touring the maze myself, I would be having visions of Signs, but instead it was just really fun with the slightest touch of creepy, so we had fun trying to scare each other. The corn was tall in most of the maze, and it was big and disorienting, with lots of loops. We could only tell if we were at the edge by the lack of corn in the distance, and no one had any idea where we were going. Different people led the way, and steered by interest alone. I led for a while, and rarely has it felt that free and easy to make a decision. By far, my favorite part was looking up. The silhouettes of the tops of the corn created a new horizon, and above that were only stars. 

I do not think this was the shape of the maze, but it certainly could have been, for all I could tell. I have a reasonable sense of direction, but that seemed useless for everyone. I did stand here and study this for a while, but determined that it is not an accurate rendering. We did get a map, but no one bothered with it.

We had just collected everyone at this point when I was taking pictures of all the weird vegetables I could find in the remaining light. 

I was fascinated by the pumpkin tree. Four sides, probably 10-12 feet wide at the bottom, and completely loaded with carved pumpkins. I didn't get to wander around as much as I would have liked before it got dark, but I intend to make this a yearly tradition. It was so neat.

My parting gift. Thank you, Lattin Farms!

Paint Nite

Well, I've never done this before.

Sarah and I decided to go to check out Paint Nite, and we had a fun time. This is the painting we were there to make (or some version of it).

That's lovely, isn't it?

I like it better in detail, but I only spent 20 seconds looking at each painting on the website, and those were tiny. Sarah and I both picked out ones we liked, then found one in common.

I have seen a lot of people doing these, and they swear they're having fun, so I agreed, but I figured I would probably throw my painting out.

It was much nicer than I expected, because the instructor really laid every step out along the way, and invited us to go rogue as we felt the urge. She warned me that if I made my background too dark, I would lose the contrast, but I was planning on going super bright in the foreground. It was really nice to have no worries about messing it up. I did not care, so I happily carried on with my moody mountains.

 I got a little focused on my mountains.

I couldn't help myself. Look at that- it's like I live here. I didn't see this then, but I kind of wish I had continued in this direction and not made my damn grassy knoll, or whatever the hell that was.

Here is Sarah working on her tree. As you can see, we both rejected a pale and hazy background. Sarah had a lovely rosy sky and green trees at the water's edge. And just look at that alpine lake! Everybody loved her colors.

Here is my finished product. I was surprised that I liked it so much. It feels very me, like this is how I would illustrate children's books. It's detailed and has dark, rich colors, and those are things I gravitate towards.

Right before I painted the tree, I had this moment where I wanted to paint a different kind of tree, because I did not feel like this one belonged here. I could not think of what to put instead, so I went ahead with the red. Tonight I met Elaine for dinner and showed her this picture, and she thought it looked like Topaz. Now that I think about it, that's probably exactly what I was painting. I think I have actually taken this picture many times over the years, except that tree is a cottonwood, and what's blowing are the seeds- these little white puffs. They are very pretty, but they will mess up your allergies. So I think if I had figured that out, a cottonwood would have been neat. Then I could have painted the DG around it, that would have been way easier than grass. Mom, I would like to discuss my technique and how to show perspective and detail in the foreground. Anyway, I like my painting, and not only am I not throwing it out- I am looking for a place to hang it! It's kind of hard to see it here, but Sarah and the instructor really liked the color of my water. Sarah's response was my quote of the night: "I wanna swim in yo' lake, Jenny!"

I wrote and wrote and consulted and wrote and submitted for editing and over and over again this weekend, but this morning I got up insanely early and went to work to complete my application for one of the leadership programs. I was done writing pretty fast and edited in between other duties. I was finished really early, and spent the rest of the day fielding phone calls and application submissions from people who procrastinate even more than me. Or maybe I'm getting better. Two people sent theirs in with only four minutes to spare.

I am so relieved. That has been on my list of things to accomplish for weeks, and I got it done!!! I intend to sleep so well...

but first, I was on a roll, so I decided to continue. I had a leftover cat shelf from a furniture rearrangement, so I brought it into work and a coworker took it home and trimmed it down for me. I stopped at Home Depot tonight for some hardware and installed the piece that Solo has needed for two years. The gap between these two steps was sketchy for her, so I fixed it with a ramp, asking Grampy to send some guidance my way as I muddled through. She's much happier about it than she looks.

Processing...

So many things...

First, I hope you enjoyed that picture of my puzzle, because the cat barfed in the box. Guess I made about as much progress as I'm gonna.

I was still waffling on stories this morning, but of course- in a move that is so appropriately me, inspiration struck during one of the presenter's stories. I reviewed it with my coworker at lunch, and he asked me one question that changed my entire framework of the story. I saw it in a completely different way, and suddenly it was so relevant to my world right now. I told it and got great responses, but a lot of encouragement that I'm on the right path. In the meantime, it will be like softball. Do these things to challenge yourself and if you don't like it, fine, but don't give up too early. Learn what makes you happy and you won't cave next time because the boundaries won't be lines, they will be concrete.

The facilitators warned us that we would feel drained from so much sharing and emotion, but I felt energized. I love intimacy and sharing of personal details. I love hugs and connections. I felt like I was on a high and I was almost home when somebody in front of me ran over a rodent that was darting across the road. The wheel ran over its head and from the way its body went into the air, I saw that it had to be dead or close to it before it hit the ground. Way down I go.

We had this slide up today before a break, and as you can see, I wasn't the only one who was struck by it.

I had a hard time with this exercise. I felt like I had elements of all, but mostly observer and opposer. I don't think of opposer as negative, though I know it can be seen as playing devil's advocate. I think of what I provide as more of perspective, and that felt closer to observer than opposer. When this slide came up, I was amazed to see that these intentions and perceptions are really two sides of the same coin. I get after myself all the time for being too judgmental, and I try to think about tolerance. This made me realize that if I got rid of my judgment entirely, I would also lose the perspective- something I value, as do others. One person I greatly respect in my organization told me today that I'm always so insightful, and she loves my comments. That was a high compliment to receive, and I was amazed and grateful.

So this poor rat that nobody gives a crap about, that nobody knew existed and probably didn't even catch the attention of the driver... I care about it! Would I take it home and keep it as a pet? Nope. But it hurts me to watch life die, no matter what it is. And yes, I do eat burgers. I know. Lately I've been thinking about this as returning to the earth. I even like to think about Riley as a fallen leaf that will eventually dry up and crumble into the ground. Yesterday at tennis, there was a dead bee on the court. When I saw it, I couldn't bear to step on it even accidentally, so I darted around it. When we took a break, I put it on my racquet dampener and put him under a bush. My coach laughed gently when he saw me examining the court, and asked if it was my Buddhist tendencies (this is not my first insect rescue operation), but as always, he remarked that it was kind, and gave me the space to do what I needed. Last week there was a dog who'd lost her owner, and he waited long after the lesson was over while I tried and tried to get close to her, so that I wouldn't be in the park alone after dark.

I do care about the rat and the dead bee and the stray dog, and while my first thought is this sad, sinking loss, the only way I can not be miserable and dwell on it is to think about them as these little crushed leaves and remind myself that I would so much rather be a person who cares, even if I can't do a thing about it. It's two sides of the same coin- I will be vulnerable and I will be hurt, but I will find strength in it, and I do not want to lose the fact that I care. I choose to be this way- over and over and over.

Sensor

Great news, I actually started the sensor!

Now, it's important to understand that this thing is a pain in the ass. Or, in my case, a pain in the arm. I will take a picture to show you what I'm working with, but for now, I will explain.

I've been wearing the infusion set for the pump around my middle, in the love handle area. Attempts to wear it at the front did not work at all, probably because of 15 years of scar tissue. My new diabetic friend told me it's possible to break that up, or break up whatever it is other than scar tissue, so that is something to explore, but unhelpful at the moment. Officially, you can wear the sensor around your middle, but if the front's out and the back is occupied, I could do thighs or arms. Now I want you to imagine sticking a clamshell on your leg, maybe towards your hip, and reprogram your decades of life experience and suddenly not drag your underwear or pants anywhere near that part of your leg. And oh- you'll have to move the sites, so it's not gonna be in same place all the time.

I feel like the arm is a little better option, because at least there you have a chance in hell of seeing it. There's also more room in my shirts than in my pants, and I feel less likely to smack into it there. Right now, I'm wearing it towards the back of my arm, about halfway down to my elbow. The trouble with wearing this thing on my arm is that it is NOT FRIGGING POSSIBLE to put it on by myself. I went to my friend's house last night to get her help, and I may need to do that weekly.

Other things that are a giant pain in the ass include calibration, alarms, the complete conspicuousness of wearing the sensor and adhesive overtop to keep clothes and things from catching its edge and ripping it out, and the fact that the sensor and pump can still talk from 6 feet away, but not through body parts. I'm having to run the tubing along my back to wear it on the same side as the sensor. Jesus.

So why am I doing this?

Tennis. I got so frustrated last week when I was low, then really low, then really low again, then STILL low, and I had to eat and drink every bit of sugar I had on me and sit out the lesson for probably half an hour until my sugar was up enough to play. I was so damn mad and tired of trying so hard to anticipate and prop my sugar up before class just to fail so much. I have to eat carbs and sugar just to stay up and that isn't helping me lose weight.

So let me show you what that pain in the ass sensor does.

Here's my pump. At the top, we've got how much insulin is left in the pump and how much battery power is left. The circle means I have less than 25 units left, so I will be changing my infusion set soon. The little antenna is showing me whether or not the sensor is linked.

The graph can be set to show the last 3, 6, 12, or 24 hours. I just had to connect the two again this morning, so there wasn't much data yet. My level was terrible, but that was due to remnants from trouble yesterday, and it calmed back down soon after. This is not telling me blood sugar- this is reading interstitial fluid, which has a delay, so the way they explained this was like cars on a roller coaster. The front car is going to go uphill before the next car. Whatever is happening to your blood sugar now will affect the interstitial fluid in approximately 15 minutes. You have to account for the lag, and you still have to test.

Another neat thing- one of my favorite things I forgot about and was reminded of today- is that arrows will show up next to the number if you're heading up or down. Two arrows will show if you are heading that way quickly.

So all day, I was able to keep an eye on my blood sugar by checking out the levels of my interstitial fluid. When I went to tennis tonight, I was able to pull out the pump between shots and see what my blood sugar was doing without having to leave the court to test.

Before you start pointing out that I could have been doing this all along, I'd like to relay some advice that my friend's husband (who is on the pump) said to me yesterday. He really felt- as did the pump trainer- that it was much better to get used to the pump first- get really comfortable with how it works and doing the infusion set changes and all of that before adding in the sensor. And it is a pain in the ass. I am going to be unenthused to wear this thing all the time, but when it works and you don't bleed all over the place and the sensor remains linked to the pump and the receiver isn't getting ripped out, it's amazingly helpful.

Class

I'm in this two day class and it's interesting and I'm learning. Mom, you will be pleased to know that we watched a Brene Brown TED talk. I had seen that one before, and it smacked me around again. I also called myself out on two behaviors that are not awesome (I'm trying to give you the highlights here) and tomorrow I have to tell a story. I am having trouble deciding. Nothing feels like a story. I have these silly anecdotes, but they're short, and nothing is coming to mind other than this amazing experience I had when coming out of anesthesia after surgery. I don't know if that one is fully formed, though, so I'm trying to come up with other ideas and they all just feel irrelevant or lame. And let me clarify that irrelevance is irrelevant here- the story can be anything, and it can be shallow or middle ground, but it cannot be deep, deep dark down because this is not a therapy session and you don't want to scare anyone off.

The few stories I heard today were not stories like I think of them, so I feel like I have to tell some great, crafted, rounded story that includes my lesson, tears, and laughter. I think I have my answer. I am going to read some blogs and maybe that will jog something.

Above is one of the many quotes today, but I really loved this one, and feel like I should staple it all over my furniture and my forehead.

Drafty draft

My other damn pictures aren't coming up. Garrrgghh.

I am currently aggravated because I had a great time at tennis, but now that I'm home, there are about eight things I want to do and I can't really do any of them because it's time to get ready for bed. 

I know how to fix this- it requires doing all my nighttime chores when I get home from work, but I never end up doing things that way. So as usual, it's Thursday night and things are overwhelming and I may end up doing fun things all weekend, which is what you're supposed to do, right?

Yes, yes, thank you, Gordon. I have got to take care of those things when I get home regardless of tennis or plans or whatever so that I don't end up with a mess by Thursday and stressed that I'm going to have to spend my whole weekend cleaning not like I'm gonna really do that anyway.

If I do that, I might have the room to write when the urge strikes, and getting in two hours and going to bed a little late might be worth it.

I'd much rather go do fun things on the weekend and work on puzzles in between. Of course, I will be on this one for the next four months, I think.

Short and unedited is still done.

I had to do Education's part of the new employee orientation today. It was still a mess, but it felt much better than the first time I did it as a shared presentation, which was a hot mess. This time I got people laughing a little more, and I realized it had more to do with being at the end of a long, droning day than my teaching skills.

I have to find some new tennis pants because it's getting too cold for capris. I only have one long pair and they're yoga pants AND THEY'RE FALLING DOWN. Yeah, that's right.

I ran off at the end of tennis after a stray dog. I know I saw her earlier but she'd lost her boy. I tried and got close- she'd even brush up against me, but I was not her person, so she wouldn't let me put the leash on, which I keep in my car, not that that should surprise you. My coach waited for me very patiently- unwilling to leave me alone in the darkened park, but eventually the skittish little girl ran off into the neighborhood and I could not find her and there wasn't enough light to try. I called animal control and felt like shit the whole way home, worried about her. I have to console myself that I tried, and being an escapee does not necessarily mean doom for a dog. I am keeping m fingers crossed and I hope she finds her people.

On a positive bleeding heart note, I rescued many earthworms from the driveway over the weekend as well as a spider from the tennis court. My fellow students were like oh how sad, he's going to get trampled la di dah let's go play now while I went to find something to move him with. I relocated him to the grass and hopefully he found a nice home and is more of a spectator these days.

I got the nicest email today from one of my students. Not much makes me cry

No, that's not true. I cry about a lot of things.

I don't usually cry over people expressing gratitude to me. I love those students so much.

Sleep really well. You need some rest.

Gold Star

Gold star alert!

I tried to set up the sensor today. I got derailed because the receiver thing is dead, but I pulled all the supplies out and was ready to make an attempt. I was hoping to get this done before tennis tonight, but oh well. It may rain anyway. The important thing is the process has begun and I'm moving forward! Go Jenny!

Finding a home for Riley

I think about getting a dog- Lena's Bill made the point that she could easily make that happen- but I think now might not be the best time. I see people walking their dogs and I think I could easily change my life if a dog showed up, but for now I am playing tennis three times a week, I'm going out a lot, and I may join a pool players league. I had Riley through some very unsettled times, and I'd like to do it better. Of course, I could meet a dog and change my mind immediately.

It feels so quiet at home, but it's also nice to shake the routines up- I do not have to go home right away, I do not have to put on shoes and a coat last thing at night, and finding these things that felt automatic and are no longer necessary  remind me that they are not just obligations- there are values in them, and a choice.

Most of the time I feel like everyday Jenny, and sometimes I am blown over with sadness. I am not sad for Riley- she had a full, interesting life and it ended so beautifully, and I constantly think about how lucky we were to have that. I am sad for me, and I feel appropriately ungrounded, having lost my shadow.

I keep thinking of these memories and think I need to write them down or I might forget them. Riley was not an obsessive licker, but your hand might get a couple kisses when saying hello. When I went to do laundry downstairs, she would wander out on the grass while I kept an eye out, poop bag at the ready. My neighbors knew if she was out, I was nearby, but they always made sure.

My favorite thing- what warmed my heart every time it happened and every time I think of it- is that when she rode on my lap in the car (and she was always so well-behaved), she liked to rest her head on my driving arm. I always loved that, and hoped for straight stretches so she would stay longer, but it would only be for a few seconds at most before she'd lift her head up and look somewhere else. I treasured those seconds every time and tried to feel everything to absorb it and remember it and it worked, because now when I think about her, that's where she is.

When I said to Lena and friends that I had yet to pick out my own dog, they thought maybe I should continue in that tradition. I have no doubt that if I take too long, the universe will hand me one. For now though, I will just miss my girl.

Missing Riley

I've been changing things slowly as they come up: taking the dog food to work to leave on the free table, rearranging, picking up dog beds... I gave Ant a couple of her beds, but not her favorite one. Jasmine's bowl is washed and put away, and I gave Ant toys and bones and a brush. I feel fine through most of it, maybe a little sad, but I just pulled down the mortar and pestle Sean got for me so I could crush her glucosamine pill into powder and I cried my eyeballs out.

I think she was ready to go, I really do. I think about how she would stretch in her downward dog and just plop her butt down because she couldn't get back up from it that way- she'd have to lie down first. I think about the bloody drool and how she started declining hard treats. I think about her terrible vision and hearing and how through all of that, she was this sweet, happy girl and she didn't care what was going on as long as she was near me.

That last time I woke her up was after the vet had arrived and explained everything. Dad and I had just spent an hour at least outside with her in the shade and it was so quiet and lovely and cool and she just wanted to nap, right there outside. When we brought her in, she went straight to our room and curled up. When I woke her, she was a little testy, like "Would you please let me sleep?" Yes, baby. I apologized for waking her and apologized again for picking her up, promising it was the last time. She did not protest, as she'd gotten very used to the one thing she hated more than anything.

She was ready to go, and I am so fortunate to have been able to let her go at home, pain and panic free, napping in my lap with my arms around her- the safest place in her whole world.

I knew I wouldn't be able to move to a new home until after she was gone, because she wouldn't know her way around. I knew I couldn't move the furniture around or leave things on the floor. I knew I had to watch her pain and mobility and measure her food. I was her eyes on our short, slow walks and I knew which curbs she could manage.

Now Mini and I cry to each other and come running. We nuzzle and hold onto each other. She sleeps at the foot of my bed, and when I wake up at night, she crackles the barest noise to me and I feel the slight weight of her tiny paws. She noses at the covers and I lift them up as she burrows in beside me. She is not comfortable until her face is buried in my hand and I coo to her as she brushes me with her tail.

She is old too- 11- but she is a very small cat and her age is a quieter management than Riley's. I joke that I can make people in my neighborhood REALLY think I'm crazy- first, the dog stroller, next, walking my cat! Perhaps you remember my earlier attempts, but now that she is lonely and does not have a blind dog to harass or try to cuddle with, I feel like I should make her world more entertaining. I found some toy mice she adores and I marinate them in catnip, but it's usually too hot, too cold, or too mosquito-y to leave the balcony open, so maybe we ought to start venturing out. That's probably good for both of us.

Feeling Empty

Chris picked Jasmine up on Thursday, and I'm having the hardest time with the thought that I could stay inside for the rest of the night- no dog walk, no potties before bed. I have picked up some of her things, but it's a slow process. I just picked up her water bowl today. I am thinking about rearranging some things (Shocking, I know.) to better utilize the space- the same shit I am always trying to do, but there's this extra amount floor space, and I just suddenly feel so sad.

There's this neighbor who can't talk to me without mentioning how many shelter dogs need homes, and it makes me wants to club his kneecaps. It's not as if I am whining to him about missing Riley- he just keeps doing that, even though I keep telling him I am well aware. Somebody was bound to be the get-a-new-dog-immediately pest, so it might as well be someone I don't really know or care about. I don't feel ready to get another dog- I can't even consider it at the moment- but I will surely keep an eye out for any messages the universe sends me about it. I don't think anybody's really questioning whether or not I will have another dog.

When I look around, I see a messy place and I have been feeling so overwhelmed with everything and I'm playing tennis 3 times a week and hanging out with friends and I think maybe things need to settle a bit anyway.

Working on being here

Real quick-
Today was supposed to be cleaning and all the stuff I've been just unable to keep up with for the last month. (Has it been a month?!) Of course, instead I laid in bed for an hour and ran errands all day and when I was supposed to start cleaning, my feet hurt. It's how I do.
But somewhere around 8, I got the train moving, and have been picking up and putting away for 3 hours. My apartment is not cleaned but policed so that I can clean tomorrow, and I would not be horrified if someone walked in right now. I wanted to remind myself that this is in keeping with how I do everything, and while it's not for everyone, it apparently is for me, and it would be an incredibly kind gesture to not beat myself about the head and shoulders for it. Trust that the motivation will hit, and that it will probably happen at night. Make a note to look for jobs or schedules that allow you to take advantage of the motivation that often hits at 8 or 9 at night.
This weekend I let some of Riley's ashes go, and I want to tell you about that and share some pictures, but I will get that done when I get to it. :) I have been feeling so bad for not being motivated and productive and wondering if it's grief or just laziness, because I like to flog myself mercilessly. But HA, critical inner voice! Productivity wasn't lost forever, and besides- if a messy apartment comes along with losing my shadow, oh well, and I'm still doing the important stuff like going to work and paying bills. It can't all be up to par.
Tonight, while putting things away, I moved Riley's bed into the closet and found myself looking at things like the stroller and her leash and feeling a leap of panic, like oh my god, what the hell am I going to do with that... feeling all the guilt and sentiment and the mutual obligation to both keep things and give them to other dogs, and I had this overpowering and total unwillingness to let go...
Another day, another day. Leave that for another day.

Keep your circle positive

I went to a new Zumba class with Sarah this morning. It was intense and held in a studio designed strictly for Zumba, so there weren't a ton of mirrors, the lights were dimmed, the music was loud, and the instructor was animated. We want to go back, but of course it's intimidating for about the first 10 classes until you start to learn what's going on. Tracy, I really need you to come visit so you can come to class with me and show me what the hell they're doing. I am just going to have to go until it starts to look familiar. After the class, the instructor made his way over to us (in the back corner) and said he saw us trying and knows it's hard when you're new and can't see his feet, so he expects to see us up front next time. :o

So then I ran over to Walmart for a few things. I went to this specific Walmart because it's the only one that's got the trash bags I use and I'm pretty sure I was warned away from that one this weekend, because Burning Man is on. The parking lot was jammed full of rented RVs and U-Hauls and beautiful people were everywhere, decked out in their faux desert/steampunk/neon/Coachella wear. The Walmart had a trailer sized dumpster in the parking lot that was rounded over with cardboard boxes that were not broken down. Burning Man is carefully orchestrated and organized, and you have to haul out whatever you haul in, but some Burners can sure make a mess in Reno before they head out to the playa. I'm definitely not just talking about cardboard.

Walmart has pallets of water down a whole center aisle, and a sign that directs Burners to the garden section. They also have something like a two week no returns policy around this time every year, because a lot of the 75,000 people that will attend this year are flying in, so they buy everything here, then try to recoup some money by returning what they didn't- or did- use. The playa dust gets in absolutely everything, and some people have figured out how to take advantage of that business with specific Burning Man truck washes and such. For example, check out U-Haul's helpful advice:
https://www.uhaul.com/Burningman/

So not only was I at Walmart on a Sunday with all the Burners who are headed out to the desert today, but there were also some poor folks still trying to buy school supplies. I carefully navigated through the internal traffic jam and prepared to wait in line for a half hour. Some people behind me were getting seriously ansty, but it was really fine. Then I got outside with my few purchases, and some dickhead walking in with his friend makes a comment about my saddlebags. All I got in response was, "REALLY?"

Now, I know I shouldn't let that wide piece of shit bother me. If he really wants to ruin some stranger's day, his life probably sucks, and my guess is that he was coming from lunch rather than a workout, but I couldn't help but be mad and feel like shit. What a fucking jerk.

So I stop at Home Depot amped up, just willing the world to throw another comment my way. I went to the building materials to find some cinder blocks for my new tiny grill, but couldn't find a cart, so I picked up two and headed to the checkout. The cashiers say nothing as I approach, but as I pay, my cashier asks if I want her to find me a cart. The checkout is already halfway to the car, so I say no thanks and grab the two blocks. "You make it look easy," says Cashier #2.

YYEEEEAAHHH!

At home, making my lunch, I still felt pissed at that turd, but no longer hurt. I felt strong and fine, and ripped the lid clean off my test strip bottle. Easy there, Muscles. :D

Good grief

I feel a little better now after a shower and tears. I'm feeling sad, disproportionately angry, and very lonely. I'm feeling very down on myself and struggling to keep it observational, but I do not like how I feel or the state I am in. The despair feels familiar and permanent, as if I always feel this way, but I don't believe that's true. I feel angry and shortchanged about everything except Riley, but I know that's not accurate either. I feel like I'm just now crawling out of a huge hole of grief and loss and now I'm headed into another, but I know it hasn't been a solid four years of grief. It's been four years of lessening grief with widening moments of happiness and gratitude, but in these moments, it feels like grief just lives here. It is so difficult to treat feelings as anything else than absolute truth.

For those who loved Riley

It's too early to be up before a long drive, but this time I've got a passenger who can spell me, and this time especially, I feel like I'll need it. I haven't really packed. I feel all hollow and sad and I keep coming back to her last moments. Riley was so good, as she always was. We spent about an hour outside under a tree. She laid down in the grass between Dad and I, and just smelled the breeze. It was a really nice day- warm like bathwater, and it was really comfortable in the shade. Nap weather. She watched and listened to the activity around us, and gave me pointed looks whenever I stopped petting her. She was clearly tired, and was ready to sleep. I carried her back inside and she went straight to my room and curled up.

Kate told me days ago to listen to my instincts, and that day especially, it was so important. I went to get a towel from the car and caught the vet as she drove in. I had given the people my building number, but that information didn't make it to her, and it's difficult to find me based on apartment number alone. Those were the kind of moments I had all day, when I listened intently to my inclinations, and it went so smoothly it felt like water. This, of all days, was a good one to be tuned in.

The vet came up and explained the process again. She made some suggestions, including having some treats available to distract Riley during the initial sedation. I had been able to give her her meds that morning in the continued efforts to keep her comfortable, but she had refused her last pain pill, even though it was covered in cheez whiz and rolled in bacon. I had asked about interactions between the meds, but I was told there would be none. I wonder if that pill would have affected her coherence or comfort, and I feel as though she didn't eat it because she didn't need it.

For Riley's last meal, we gave her what she craved and constantly scavenged for, the one thing she was never allowed to have: cat food. She required more and more enticing in those last few days, and at first she was all about that cheez whiz. She ate probably four pieces of bacon that day. I think it was Dad who pointed out that if she was after cat food, so be it, so we'd already tried that with great success. I woke her from her nap one last time and carried her into the living room.

I sat on the couch, and we settled in. Dad gave her a handful of cat food and she gobbled it up while the vet gave her the first sedative. She was briefly distracted by that, and it took only the slightest encouragement from me before she returned to her meal. Dad gave her another handful and she happily ate it right up. The sedative worked fast, and she laid her head down in my arms and I smoothed her crazy hair. I put my favorite sleep shirt over her and rubbed her belly as the vet worked on her back leg. I kissed her warm head and whispered my goodbyes in her ear and felt her leave this world as quietly and peacefully as snow falling.

I wake up at night and scan the floor for her. I put trash in Riley-proof cans. I go to bed without one last trip outside. I leave the house feeling like I am missing something, because I am.

Dad said it will be coming home that's hard, and I agree. Even old as hell, mostly deaf and mostly blind, passed out cold in my closet, she would always know I was home. She'd catch a scent in her dream and roll right awake, reaching her nose in my direction.

This dog.

Dad said I should give her that last month and call her 16 years old. So I will. My 16 year old, lovely, silly, grumpy, loving, spoiled, happy, crafty, sweet little girl. I will miss finding her waking up with bed face, sprawled halfway off her bed, not ready to get up yet. She moved 12 times with me, rode across the country in my lap and went on countless road trips to fun places. She went missing once during a big storm, and survived many other incidents through her life, including a phenobarbital, red ants, a 15 foot fall off the porch at Topaz, a foxtail in her ear, raisins, dark chocolate, and two leaps from a moving RAV4- one intentional, one not. Her happiest day ever was at Yosemite, hiking all day and scaling boulders to chase squirrels. She caught two squirrels in her life- both here in this neighborhood- and once surreptitiously tasted a pet ferret at Topaz when she thought no one was looking. She lost a bottom tooth on the vacuum cleaner when she was 6 months old and they remained sworn enemies. She loved barking at splashes at the lake and fell into the water many times while trying to bite them. She loved boat rides and wandering freely along the shore where she would find sticks or something disgusting to chew on. She liked to sit up on the back of the couch like a cat, and you had to be careful because she might start humping your head. She'd eat Tracy's mac & cheese if it was left alone for a nanosecond, and she knew and loved her aunt long after we'd moved away. Her favorite spot to be petted was just under her hip, and she'd raise her leg, sending all the kids screaming because they thought she was going to pee on them. She did pee on many vets and groomers and once bit a FedEx delivery man.

Riley loved cheese puffs and broccoli, little male dogs, and napping in a towel on my lap after a bath. She liked to comb the dog food aisles at PetSmart for loose kibble, and would drag me to the cashier for a cookie, pushing through anyone in line. She preferred walking on my left side, off leash. She loved cats and was very good at making friends with them. She was such a food hound that she would jump up on the couch, put her front paws on your leg with as much pressure as she could manage, and stare into your eyes. When Ant was little, she'd eat his afternoon snack right out of his mouth, which entertained them both to no end. She liked to rub her face on her bed after a particularly good meal. She had a great mohawk and a curly butt. When she got really happy and excited, she would bite my nose. She was part mountain goat.

She was my ladybug, my little girl. I know now why I'm having a hard time leaving today. When I come back, it will never be the same.

“You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.”

― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

The shortest days

Alright, well... sad updates. I called the vet today for the pre-determined check in, and considering her condition, he felt it was time. I have a home euthanasia scheduled for Tuesday afternoon. I'm going back and forth on this, but then she'll wake up and I can just see it's true. The mass is causing her pain and she doesn't close her mouth all the way because her teeth are cutting into it. It's getting harder to get her to take her pills and I've increased the pain pills to the max on their directions. The vet said to keep up the meds if she'll take them, but not to fight her. He told me that the meds are only buying time, and a few weeks at most- the compassionate thing to do is let her go.

I've been crying most of the day, but Sarah and Amanda just took me out for food, beer, and ice cream. I had maybe half of a Like It- some lovely peanut butter and chocolate combination. The rest is in my freezer. I took Riley out around 5, and we sat in the shade on a little hill. I think I've been a pretty good dog mama, but of course right now I just feel guilty and inadequate.

Dad is coming up to be with me through this. I'm really grateful for that. I feel like I know how much this is going to hurt, but I know anticipating never covers it. I'm trying to absorb as much of her as I can now- pets and cuddles and kisses. Sometimes she wants to tackle the stairs on her own, but mostly she just waits for me to carry her. I use every time to kiss her and feel her weight, try to make her feel as supported and safe as possible. We've switched to entirely wet food and I don't count the soft cookies. If she wants more peanut butter than what covers her pills, she gets as much as she wants. I'm thinking about getting her one of those puppuccinos from Starbucks. What else can I give her? Bacon? Steak? Spray cheese? Mostly just time to sit outside in the shade, enjoying the breeze, the smells, and the company.

Right now she is sleeping peacefully on the floor in the middle of my bedroom. The lights are on and I've been puttering and singing along with my iPod a little. I imagine these muffled goings on are normal and comforting to her. She's resting her head on the right side, just like she's done every time she's slept in the past week. Her breaths come in almost sighs, and sometimes those puffs will fluff her eyebrows.

I am going to miss you so much, little girl.