On FTD... and I don't mean the florist!

Frontotemporal Dementia... according to the UCSF Memory and Aging Center... is a group of related conditions resulting from the progressive degeneration of the temporal and frontal lobes of the brain. These areas of the brain play a significant role in decision-making, behavior control, emotion and language. FTD is less common than Alzheimer's. There is nothing to stop or slow the progression of this disease.

Today was our family conference with a doctor at the Alzheimer's and Memory Center in Fresno. My mother's diagnosis of FTD was confirmed. In short, the mother that I had grown to love is gone... and she is never coming back! She is already exhibiting many of the symptoms of Phase 2 Dementia, and a few of Phase 3; the terminal phase.

The doctor said "these processes tend to exaggerate old behaviors." This pains me greatly because it was those old behaviors that caused my mother and I not to be close in the first place.

But over the past 10 years our relationship evolved into something truly wonderful, as we bonded over motherhood and other common interests. In a matter of months, as her health has deteriorated, so to has our relationship. My only prayer now is that I will have the strength and wisdom to see my mother through this season of her life.

On my best friend LeNita Jo Meehan

In February 1992 my husband was stationed at NAS Lemoore, Calif. As a young couple with no kids and no money, one of the things we did for fun was get together with our friends on the weekends to play cards. On this particular weekend a new couple was joining the group. New arrivals to the base. They had a baby girl, Samantha. She was nine months old. The husband was easy going enough. But the wife, she was super outgoing and with a heavy southern accent to boot. One of the first things I said to her was, "And which of the southern states are you from?" I thought it was funny. She didn't. She was from Kentucky.

I worked in customer service at JC Penney a few towns over. A few days later I answered the phone and on the other end was a woman asking for directions to the store in the most southern voice I had ever heard. I said, "LeNita, is that you?" It was. And the rest, as they say is history. It was the beginning of the most wonderful friendship. A friendship that stood the test of time, distance, trials and tribulations. Samantha, the nine month old, is now a senior in high school. I love her and her sister and brother, Tori and Josh, as if they were my own. LeNita's parents, Howard and Clara Staley, are like a second family to me. For the last 17 years I have been honored to call LeNita Jo Meehan my best friend. We have shared each other's joys and each other's pains. When I went back to school there were so many times when I thought I would never make it. But LeNita lifted me up and gave me the inspiration to keep going. We spent countless hours on the phone together. Sometimes we would talk two or three times a days. In recent years when she was ill and didn't feel like talking it didn't matter to me I knew she still loved me just the same. LeNita called me a couple of days ago. She left a voicemail. I didn't even bother to listen to it. I was so excited to see that she had called. I called her right back. We had a nice visit. Then later I listened to the voicemail. If I had known she was going to die a few days later I wouldn't have deleted it. If I had known that was the last time I would hear her voice, I would have hung onto it forever. But I didn't. Her husband called me tonight with the devastating news no one wants to get. His wife is gone. Their babies mother is gone. My best friends is gone. God bless Patrick, Samantha, Tori, and Josh. God help us all find a way to cope with this great loss. God bless our beloved LeNita Jo Meehan.

On What a Migraineur Will Do

But first, a bit of good news, for a change. I woke up this morning and noticed something strange. No nausea! And the pain from my migraine, much less. On a scale of 1 to 10, about a 4. Half of what it's been the past several weeks. And instead of my entire head throbbing the pain is much more isolated. I consider this a good sign.

At the doctor's office, more good news. The results from Friday's MRI are in. Everything looks good. What a relief!

I'm getting ready for my appointment with the neurologist next week. I compiled a list of everything I've tried over the past month or so to get rid of this migraine. For "funnsies" (as one of my co-workers" would say) I decided to share that list on my blog.

Maxalt: medication best if taken at onset of migraine.
Topamax: used to treat seizures, taken in smaller doses used to prevent migraines. I've been taking since 2001, it's been working since 2001. Working that is, until now.
Aleve
Cranial sacral massage: provided some short-term relief.
Percocet: narcotic, pain reliever, had allergic reaction and discontinued use immediately
Zophran: anti-nausea medication
Toradol tablets and injections: NSAID (non-steroidal anti-inflammatory) used to treat pain.
Stadol injection: narcotic, pain reliever
Phenergan: anti-nausea medication
Tylenol 2: (caffeine/codeine combo from Canada)
Baclofen: muscle relaxer
Feverfew: herbal supplement, suggested by my massage therapist to treat migraines.
Magnetic bracelet: heard magnetics are good for migraines.
Excedrin Migraine
BC Analgesic Powder & Coke: The reason they call it BC is because it's been around since Before Christ. I kid! The BC and Coke remedy is some disgusting concoction my dad came up with. He apparently lived on BC & Coke back in the day when he suffered from migraines. He says the best way to take it is to swallow the power and chase it down with a swig of Coke. I say a shot of Jack Daniels would have done just as well. Or a knock in the head with an iron skillet. Yuck!

Essential Oils: recommended by a co-worker.

Tiger Balm: another cure-all suggested by my dad.

Mouth Guard: the migraine pain caused me to start clinching my teeth so hard my jaw started to hurt.

On Having a Migraine

My new year's resolution has fallen by the wayside, thanks to this migraine I've had for a month now. I can count on one hand the number of days since January 27th that I haven't been sick. Not only has my weekly blogging gone by the wayside, so has a lot of other things; like personal hygiene, watching the news.... living... in general. For the better part of the last month I've been holed up in my bedroom where it's nice and dark and quiet and cool. I had my husband help me install cardboard over the windows to insure no light would creep in. This should put to rest any questions at all about my being a vampire. The only thing missing from my bedroom is a coffin.

A friend of mine recently said "yeah for dads!" No kidding! About a week into this misery I called my dad for help. He drove all night, 600 miles, from California to get here. Bless his heart. He has looked after me and the kids. Shuffled me to doctors appointments. Picked my daughter up from school everyday. Made sure we're all properly fed. I don't know what we would've done without him. Yes, even big girls need their daddies every once in a while.

As for this migraine, it's unrelenting. I was able to get a reprieve for a few days thanks to a cocktail of stadol, toradol, and phenergan. Trips to the doctor for injections of toradol have yielded little to no results. I've noticed in recent days my symptoms are getting worse. My balance is off. And I can scarcely get out a sentence that actually makes sense. My kids find it hilarious that their usually well-spoken mom is now sounding like a buffoon. I've tried not to let on that it worries me.

Maybe tomorrow's MRI will shed some light on the issue. And God bless my doctor. He was able to get me an appointment with a neurologist at the Mayo Clinic next month. This as opposed to months from now, which was what I had previously been told. Me and 200 other people. Geesh! I could be dead by then. That's ridiculous that someone who's suffering from a migraine, and has been already for a month now, is expected to wait behind 200 other people to see a doctor. I mean, it's ridiculous that any of us have to wait. Aren't there enough doctors around? And if not, why? But that's a blog for another day.

So, now you know where I've been. As I've been laying here for the past month I've thought of so many wonderful things I'd like to write about. I can't wait til I feel better so I can get started.

On Being Lazy

Today someone accused me of being lazy. Someone who doesn't know me outside the 24 hours a week she works with me, accused me of being lazy. Let me tell you just how NOT lazy I am. At present I work a 40 hour week. I'm not bragging or complaining. I'm just making a statement of fact. I work a 40 hour week at my paying job. Then I come home to my non-paying job; wife and mother to Sean and Katie.

This is a typical day: Somewhere between my overnight shift at Good Morning Arizona and when my kids get home from school I squeeze in a nap, usually three to four hours. Then it's homework, housework, and getting dinner on the table. My evenings are spent cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, and hanging out with the kids; taking care of last minute notes for school, making sure everyone has lunch money, clean clothes to wear the next day, etc. If I'm lucky I have a few minutes to watch TV. Then I try to squeeze in another nap, one or two hours before heading out the door to work around midnight.

My weekends consist of 15 to 20 loads of laundry. Planning meals for the upcoming week. Going to the grocery store. And special projects around the house that I don't have time for during the week. Oh, and hanging out with he kids. Maybe catch a movie, go to the mall. Sometimes we just stay home, order pizza and rent a movie. I try to get the kids and I to church on Sunday's. We usually have a nice big early afternoon lunch. Then it's off to bed for me around five o'clock for a nice long six hour snooze before starting another week of short naps when and where I can get them.

Lazy, I think not. Thanks to my parents I have a strong work ethic.

I got my first real paying job when I was 15. As a waitress. My friends mother owned the restaurant. I wanted to work there so bad I offered to work for free. For tips actually. Which I did for about two weeks. Then she decided to hire me. Three dollars an hour. That's what I made. Plus tips of course. So at 15 I went to school all day, then after school went to my job as a waitress where I worked until nine, sometimes ten o'clock at night. Then I still had to come home and do homework.

In fact, I don't remember a time in my life when I didn't work. Excluding the year after my daughter was born. But my pregnancy had been so fraught with complication it was a miracle either one of us survived it. I needed to take a year to recover and enjoy being with my daughter.

And I won't even go into what it took for me to complete my college education. Now you talk about work? That was!

And I'd be remiss not to mention the work involved in being the daughter of aging parents. My dad is 75 and my mom is turning 71 in a few days. My dad has a sleu of health problems that need constant monitoring. And my mother is dying from a degenerative brain disease.

So yes, it pains me to be told by a single-twenty-something that I'm lazy. I know when I was twenty-something I didn't have a clue about the real world. I wish I could go back and tell my twenty-something self to grow-up. But I can't. I can't even tell this twenty-something to grow-up. What I can do is wish her well on her journey and pray that God blesses her just as he has blessed me with so many things to keep me busy.... so I don't have the chance to be lazy.

On Recycling and Kitty Litter

If you read my previous post you know I'm a cat owner. We have five cats, to be exact. Now, I prefer they use the great big litter box mother nature provided (sorry Mrs. Pederson). But not wanting to start a war with any of my neighbors I do provide them a litter box. After trial and error, and error, and error, I finally settled on Petco Scoopable Cat Litter. It comes in a nifty refillable container and Petco offers a reduced price on the refill versus buying a whole new container. Great concept. I'm totally on board. I'm saving money AND helping the environment. Sign me up!
That is until recently when Petco decided to try and pull a fast one. It put the new container on sale for less than the refill. No problem. I'll play along. My bucket was getting a little warn. Plus they had come up with a new, better bucket. So I left the store that day with two buckets; the one I had brought in to refill. It was empty. And a nice new bucket of litter I got on sale.
How does the old saying go? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me! I made my weekly trip to Petco to get my refill of litter and lo and behold, the sale was still on. Well if you know anything about me, you can imagine where this is going.
Let's digress for just a minute. The point of the refillable kitty litter was to save money and help the environment. If I have to keep buying a new container to get the cheaper price, I'm not really doing all that much to save the environment. Sure I'm saving money. But this was supposed to be a win-win situation. How is the environment winning if I'm sending all of these perfectly good containers to a landfill?
So, I said, uh-uh, no way, not this time. I refilled MY refillable container and made my way to the check-out where I told the clerk I wanted her to ring it up at the "new" container price. She did what I asked and I left the store happy.
Today I made my weekly trip to Petco to refill the kitty litter. I found the "new" price was still cheaper than the "refill" price. But no worries, right. I've got it all worked out under a previous agreement made last week. I made my way to the register where the clerk asked me "is this a new container or a refill?" I said, its a refill, but you can ring it up at the "new" price. She looked at me like I'd lost my mind. She wasn't going to do it. But she could see I wasn't going to sway on my decision not to be duped into paying a higher price. She kindly informed me that she would only do it "just this once." To which I proceeded to tell her how stupid it was that Petco would offer the refill at a higher price than the new container, thus defeating the purpose of the refillable container... which is to SAVE MONEY AND THE ENVIRONMENT. GEESH, is that so hard to understand?
I walked out, refill in hand, savings in my wallet. I can't wait to see what happens next week.

On The Naming of Cats

Cats the musical is one of my favorites. I've seen it seven times. I saw it twice in the same run. The first time I saw Cats was in 1989. It was another 12 years before I became a cat owner. In 2001 when my daughter was one we adopted our first cat. And naming her was easy. We named her Jennyanydots, after one of the cats in the musical. We called her Dot for short, because she had a white dot in the middle of her back.

Getting Dot home was itself an adventure. She was wild. It took three or four people to catch her. When my husband handed her to me she started squirming and scratching. I dropped her. She took off and the chase was on, again.

On the ride home my daughter threw-up in the car.

Dot didn't want anything to do with us for weeks. She mostly hid under my bed. Then, finally, a break through.

I had to have oral surgery, to have my wisdom teeth removed. I was home recuperating, laying in the bed, doped up on pain killers, sandwiched between two heating pads, when all of a sudden Dot's little face peered in. She was checking on me. I thought how sweet of her to do that.

And that was the beginning of a long, and wonderful relationship.

Dot may have been my daughter's cat, but I was clearly her favorite human. She slept with me. Watched TV with me. Read books with me. Got ready for work with me. On a cold night I could whisper her name and she would come lay on my chest and keep me warm. In fact, on a hot night she would come lay on my chest and keep me warm.

The downside to the love between Dot and I is that a couple of nights ago as I was heading out the door for work she naturally followed. It was cold out and apparently after I left she took refuge in the engine of the neighbors car. Well, I don't have to tell you what happened next. Dot was badly injured and we had to put her down. The worst part was that I had to do it without giving my kids the chance to say goodbye. Dot acted so brave. She wasn't crying at all. In fact she was alert, even purring at times. We had a nice visit while I waited for my husband to get to the hospital. I asked him to come be with her during the procedure. We had to have our dog, Snowball, put down a few months back, and I just couldn't go through that again but didn't want Dot to be alone. So he graciously relieved me of my post. It was strange. Almost as soon as he got there Dot got very relaxed and laid down, as if to say, "I'm ready now." We had our final goodbye and I left her in the capable hands of my husband and the veterinarian.

God Bless You Dot.

Thank you for bringing us so many years of joy.

On New Year's Resolutions

Ah, the beginning of a new year. And the question I'm being asked a lot these days, "What's your new years resolution?" I'll be honest, I'm not very good at keeping a new years resolution. Giving up something for 40 days during Lent? Now that's a commitment I can sink my teeth into. Probably because during Lent you get to fudge once a week. I mean really, who can't commit to something six days at a time? So come this February 25th through April 11th, you can expect me to meet my yearly Lenten obligation of giving up soda, except of course on days that begin with "SUN."
Until then, I needed to come up with a new years resolution that I knew I could keep. Because let's face it, failure is just depressing. So, without further ado, my new years resolution for 2009, is to write in my blog at least once a week.
I'm a writer, it's what I do, I was born to write. When I was a little girl, and by that I mean from about fifth grade until I was a senior in high school, I absolutely couldn't go to sleep at night until I wrote in my diary. I wrote in teeny-tiny letters, and came up with abbreviations for peoples names and certain words, so I could fit more stuff on one page. But if one page wasn't long enough I would get out a piece of notebook paper and write some more and then tuck it inside the pages of my diary. Lord knows how many hours I spent writing in my diaries. I still have them and every now and then I drag them out for a good laugh, or cry! You remember what it was like to be a teenager.
Then when I went back to school I started an unsuccesful blog, "Confessions of a thirty-something college student." I mean, did I really think I was going to have time to carry a full load of classes, commute two hours, do homework, take care of my husband and two kids, AND KEEP UP A BLOG! Please!
Okay, school's but a fond memory, and about a year ago I started another blog called Observations. I managed to create a profile and make one blog entry during the whole of 2008. Mind you, I had a lot of great ideas for my blog, and I wrote dozens of blog entries in my head. I just never found the time to put finger to keyboard and get my observations down in print.
So with that being said, as God and you as my witness, I'm making the commitment right now to write in my blog at least 52 times in 2009. If you have the desire and the time I hope you'll return and check out my Observations.