Well, other than being assured that my actual eyeballs are fine, I'm no further ahead in figuring out what is happening to my sight.
My optometrist performed all the usual tests (checking blood vessels, peripheral vision, pressure, prescription...) and found nothing conclusive. Here's what was discovered: my vision has rapidly deteriorated to the point where if it gets any worse I need to stop driving. My vision is now border-line for being able to operate a vehicle. Yikes. She didn't want to speculate as to the cause of what is going on, but used the term optical neuritis a few times. Then she stopped talking, saying that she didn't want to unduly alarm me. Too late - I'm already there.
I hope to hear from the specialist soon. Before I can't see at all.
I don't want to wallow, but... BLOODY HELL!!! I have things to do, I'm just getting going, picking up speed. These are some of the things I was looking forward to in my life in the near future: becoming a cub scout leader, volunteering on the school PAC, running again (just bought new funky runners), continuing to manage the office at work, possibly participate with Andy in a documentary that I've been contacted about, participate in a focus group on property tax assessment... the list goes on and on. I don't have time for this!!!
Deep breath. I need to focus on the here and now. I'm going to sign off, finish some work at the office, pick up the boys, and then make dinner. I'm not deeply religious, but I feel that we're given what we can cope with. New realities become our revised version of normal, we carry on. We have to, the alternative sucks.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Nervous, Worried
I don't know what to say. I'm quite worried about my sight.
I'm going to see my optometrist at 11:00 this morning. Best case scenario: give it time, your sight will get better in a few days. Worst case scenario: you've permanently damaged your eyes and you're going blind (little melodramatic - no?)
This has come on so suddenly. I noticed it when I began work last Monday morning. It got progressively worse through the week and I've got big problems this morning, just over a week later.
My reality is such that I can barely see my computer screen - I can barely see the words I'm typing. Colours are slowly vanishing - they've been reduced to various shades of grey. On the weekend, for example, when I tried to play I-spy with Daniel, I couldn't tell that the item he was spying was even green - it looked dark grey to me. This morning I thought I had taken my dark blue sweater out of closet and only realized that I had my grey sweater on when there was no tie to wrap around me.
I took the family for a drive yesterday. I wanted to "kidnap" Daryle and the boys and go to Fort Langley. But as I drove along it became such a strain, both on my eyes and on my nerves. I was unable to see how much fuel I have and the speedometer is very difficult to see. I felt worried that I'd miss observing some critical event that I should be able to avoid, but wouldn't be able to see and react to quickly enough to avoid an accident. I asked Daryle to drive and after we switched seats I quietly cried, tears welling up.What am I going to do if I'm going blind?
I need to be strong - I can't let anyone know I'm so worried. But I don't think I can carry on hiding it for long.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Progress - Slowly But Surely
I'm not diabetic.
That was my mindset when I began my type 2 diabetic journey earlier this year. Since then I've come to terms with diabetes being part of my life. In fact, I'm beginning to appreciate that I'm very lucky - at this point I'm med-free. That said, I won't fight the meds when the time comes. Initially, it felt very strange to focus on my own needs. I had always put myself at the bottom of the priority heap, but it feels good to focus on my own health and I'm feeling stronger. Happier.
Meal decisions are becoming easier. Easier being the key word. I no longer yearn for what others are eating. Who am I kidding? To be honest I don't yearn quite as much. Frankly, I would still like that pizza, hamburger bun or the handful of caramel corn. Despite my initial reluctance, I'm finding that lettuce wraps, salads and the like are quite tasty. Mom would be proud.
Two of the biggest lifestyle changes I've made have been diet, of course, and exercise now plays a big role in my day. As the pounds are falling off with my improved eating habits, I'm feeling more inclined to stretch my arms and legs. I've morphed into that annoying enthusiastic mother at scouts meetings that actively participates in EVERYTHING. The more physical the activity, the better. My son's school occasionally has parent participation gym class; so I've been joining him for Zumba whenever my work schedule permits. I haven't had this much fun being active since I was a teen!
Let's see, what other progress have I made? A more polite person has emerged. Instead of my previous response of "Are you trying to kill me?" when a person offered a treat, these days I'd be more likely to say "None for me please, but thank-you for offering."
A monitoring mantra has also emerged: "It'll be over in less than a minute." I've found that keeping tabs on bgs is key (despite my doctor's instruction that I don't need to test - sheesh). My willpower just isn't strong enough to do away with testing. If I know I won't be testing before or after a meal I find myself slipping into former bad habits. So silly, I know there's no fooling my pancreas or liver, but it feels like a "free" meal. The testing process has been an issue. Who out there truly enjoys testing? Nobody. It's not that it is terribly time consuming or excruciatingly painful. It's just one more thing to do, amongst a thousand other things to do.
Motivation to "walk the walk" will be key in the future. I'm far from perfect (who is?) and I've got a long road ahead of me on my diabetic journey. In the meantime, day by day, I'm making progress.
That was my mindset when I began my type 2 diabetic journey earlier this year. Since then I've come to terms with diabetes being part of my life. In fact, I'm beginning to appreciate that I'm very lucky - at this point I'm med-free. That said, I won't fight the meds when the time comes. Initially, it felt very strange to focus on my own needs. I had always put myself at the bottom of the priority heap, but it feels good to focus on my own health and I'm feeling stronger. Happier.
Meal decisions are becoming easier. Easier being the key word. I no longer yearn for what others are eating. Who am I kidding? To be honest I don't yearn quite as much. Frankly, I would still like that pizza, hamburger bun or the handful of caramel corn. Despite my initial reluctance, I'm finding that lettuce wraps, salads and the like are quite tasty. Mom would be proud.
Two of the biggest lifestyle changes I've made have been diet, of course, and exercise now plays a big role in my day. As the pounds are falling off with my improved eating habits, I'm feeling more inclined to stretch my arms and legs. I've morphed into that annoying enthusiastic mother at scouts meetings that actively participates in EVERYTHING. The more physical the activity, the better. My son's school occasionally has parent participation gym class; so I've been joining him for Zumba whenever my work schedule permits. I haven't had this much fun being active since I was a teen!
Let's see, what other progress have I made? A more polite person has emerged. Instead of my previous response of "Are you trying to kill me?" when a person offered a treat, these days I'd be more likely to say "None for me please, but thank-you for offering."
A monitoring mantra has also emerged: "It'll be over in less than a minute." I've found that keeping tabs on bgs is key (despite my doctor's instruction that I don't need to test - sheesh). My willpower just isn't strong enough to do away with testing. If I know I won't be testing before or after a meal I find myself slipping into former bad habits. So silly, I know there's no fooling my pancreas or liver, but it feels like a "free" meal. The testing process has been an issue. Who out there truly enjoys testing? Nobody. It's not that it is terribly time consuming or excruciatingly painful. It's just one more thing to do, amongst a thousand other things to do.
Motivation to "walk the walk" will be key in the future. I'm far from perfect (who is?) and I've got a long road ahead of me on my diabetic journey. In the meantime, day by day, I'm making progress.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
In My Head - Music That Is
Hello Ladies and Gentlemen!!!
I've disappeared into music-land for the last little while and am just emerging to find that spring has sprung and a couple of months have... vanished. Music-land these days is a full body immersion into Canadian Indy music. Think Jeremy Fisher, Said the Whale, Mother Mother, Portage and Main, Joel Plasket, Sloan, Jill Barber and so on.
Meanwhile, what has been accomplished while listening to all this great music? I'm now caught up at work, relatively speaking. My dishes at home get done with a smile and I think I move more. My poor aching body tells me I'm moving more. Oh my bones! Oh my muscles! When the tunes aren't playing, they linger in my mind. I can't help but sing, hum, whistle and drum out my new-found melodies. I sense a re-emergence of my drumsticks and getting to know my new ukulele intimately. Ah, happiness. I dance and sing with the boys, hum while I walk and sing particular song lyrics to reflect my moods and thoughts.
Speaking of moving more, have you tried Zumba? My son, Daniel, has been asking me to join him for Zumba at school. I expected an event; something more than just a grade 2 gym class. I thought there were going to be many parents and children Zumba-ing together in the gym. I arrived at the school just as the children were filing into the gym, lining up in long rows and swinging their arms around to ensure ample room for their Zumba moves. Daniel shouted "Mommy, over here! Come stand with me!" Really? In amongst all the kids? A nod from the gym teacher, Mr. Clicks-the-Camera-a-Lot, and I headed over. Feeling somewhat like Gulliver amongst the Lilliputians, I positioned myself amid the throng of excited 8 year-olds, between Daniel and Marcus from Beavers. I think there were 3 other moms, maybe. Sensibly, they stayed at the back of the pack, clearly not willing to humiliate themselves in the middle of the throng.
Oh well, what the heck. If I'm going to Zumba with Daniel, I'm going to do it wholeheartedly. Right beside him. The instructor began the workout, the music tempo picked up. I looked around to see if everyone was having a good time and all the kids and adults, myself included, were smiling. This was fun! In keeping with my "I will participate fully and enjoy myself" motto I found myself doing robot, bangra, cowboy, hip-hop and other unidentifiable moves. Not well, mind you, but with enthusiasm. Does that count? Daniel, you can invite me to Zumba anytime. I had a lot of fun. Hopefully I didn't embarrass you too badly.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Three Stages of Wiper Hell
Quick - bags in van, peel out of driveway. I'm off my game today. Daryle took Daniel on a road trip and I just couldn't seem to function and get out the door on time. Running much later than usual, I'm in a mad panic to drop Andy off at daycare and get to work. As I approach the stop sign at the top of our first hill the wipers start.
Swish swish? Really? I don't think I turned them on. Or did I? Swish swish.
We turn the corner and continue roaring up the hills towards daycare while I try to turn off the wipers. I rotate the knob on the lever. No change. Swish swish. I push on the lever. No change. Swish swish. I pull on the lever. Swish swish. Aaargghhh! Turn another corner and pull over. The wipers are already driving me bananas and they've only been swishing for a minute. Turn off engine, remove key, re-insert key, restart engine. Swish swish. Fine. Just fine. I will just focus on driving to daycare. Frig.
But the benevolent minivan gods are looking down from the heavens above and give me a break. The wipers just stop. Ahhhh. Relief. The rest of the journey to daycare and then work is uneventful.
After work I stop by the bank as usual to make the business deposit. It being a sunny afternoon I know I hadn't started the wipers. Noticing someone else's wipers going while walking through the parking lot I conclude that there must at least be one other poor soul having wiper issues today. Wrong. They were my wipers! Dang. This time around they're making scraping sounds, so that instead of swish swish, they sound like scritch scritch. Benevolent minivan gods, where are you? Scritch scritch.
The few blocks between the bank and daycare have suddenly become embarrassingly long. Scritch scritch. The no-longer-benevolent minivan gods are torturing me in retaliation for breaking some golden vehicle operating/maintenance law. Could it be because I haven't fixed the leaking radiator? Scritch scritch. Surely it can't be for the humiliatingly loud and grindy sounds my brakes make? Really, I thought I'd paid for that sin dearly when the brakes decided to seize on the way to taking Andy to the doctor's office. Besides, the brakes are almost new. Scritch scritch. I'm begging: please, please make the wipers stop...
SCRITCH SCRITCH
Park at daycare, stop the engine, go inside and retrieve the Andy. Even with the engine off...
SCRITCH SCRITCH
"Did you know your wipers are going?" a passer-by comments. "No, thank-you for pointing that out. I hadn't noticed" I hope the dark cloud over my head indicates to him that I'm being facetious.
Parking the van in the carport at home, I pull out the wiper arms, thinking that at least the battery won't be drained quite as quickly - less resistance. Wave wave. Wave wave. Try as I might I cannot get the damned things to stop. Even whacking the steering column doesn't work. What is Daryle going to think when he gets home from his road trip? Wave wave. I peek out the kitchen window occasionally as I feed Andy his dinner. Wave wave. Clear the table and tidy the kitchen a little. Wave wave.
Daryle calls to say that they're heading back. They're only a couple of hours from home. "Can't wait to see you Hon, drive safely" Wave wave. Bloody hell. I'm not going to have any battery left in the morning, I'd better start the engine to recharge the battery. After running for a minute or two - CLICK - the benevolent minivan gods take pity on me and the wipers stop. Not trusting them this time, I leave the wiper arms poking outwards.
Really Dear, they were constantly running. I couldn't get them to turn off. Daryle will never believe me. I just hope they behave themselves tomorrow.
Swish swish? Really? I don't think I turned them on. Or did I? Swish swish.
We turn the corner and continue roaring up the hills towards daycare while I try to turn off the wipers. I rotate the knob on the lever. No change. Swish swish. I push on the lever. No change. Swish swish. I pull on the lever. Swish swish. Aaargghhh! Turn another corner and pull over. The wipers are already driving me bananas and they've only been swishing for a minute. Turn off engine, remove key, re-insert key, restart engine. Swish swish. Fine. Just fine. I will just focus on driving to daycare. Frig.
But the benevolent minivan gods are looking down from the heavens above and give me a break. The wipers just stop. Ahhhh. Relief. The rest of the journey to daycare and then work is uneventful.
After work I stop by the bank as usual to make the business deposit. It being a sunny afternoon I know I hadn't started the wipers. Noticing someone else's wipers going while walking through the parking lot I conclude that there must at least be one other poor soul having wiper issues today. Wrong. They were my wipers! Dang. This time around they're making scraping sounds, so that instead of swish swish, they sound like scritch scritch. Benevolent minivan gods, where are you? Scritch scritch.
The few blocks between the bank and daycare have suddenly become embarrassingly long. Scritch scritch. The no-longer-benevolent minivan gods are torturing me in retaliation for breaking some golden vehicle operating/maintenance law. Could it be because I haven't fixed the leaking radiator? Scritch scritch. Surely it can't be for the humiliatingly loud and grindy sounds my brakes make? Really, I thought I'd paid for that sin dearly when the brakes decided to seize on the way to taking Andy to the doctor's office. Besides, the brakes are almost new. Scritch scritch. I'm begging: please, please make the wipers stop...
SCRITCH SCRITCH
Park at daycare, stop the engine, go inside and retrieve the Andy. Even with the engine off...
SCRITCH SCRITCH
"Did you know your wipers are going?" a passer-by comments. "No, thank-you for pointing that out. I hadn't noticed" I hope the dark cloud over my head indicates to him that I'm being facetious.
Parking the van in the carport at home, I pull out the wiper arms, thinking that at least the battery won't be drained quite as quickly - less resistance. Wave wave. Wave wave. Try as I might I cannot get the damned things to stop. Even whacking the steering column doesn't work. What is Daryle going to think when he gets home from his road trip? Wave wave. I peek out the kitchen window occasionally as I feed Andy his dinner. Wave wave. Clear the table and tidy the kitchen a little. Wave wave.
Daryle calls to say that they're heading back. They're only a couple of hours from home. "Can't wait to see you Hon, drive safely" Wave wave. Bloody hell. I'm not going to have any battery left in the morning, I'd better start the engine to recharge the battery. After running for a minute or two - CLICK - the benevolent minivan gods take pity on me and the wipers stop. Not trusting them this time, I leave the wiper arms poking outwards.
Really Dear, they were constantly running. I couldn't get them to turn off. Daryle will never believe me. I just hope they behave themselves tomorrow.
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