We leave for France at 7:45 tomorrow morning, and I’m excited! Hopefully it’ll go smoothly. We’ve got a lot of flying to do, and I’m going to try not to get wiped out. Knock on wood …
I don’t know if I’ll have internet, but I hope so! I’ve got my video camera (since my 1DMkII fell off the roof of my car, remember?), so I’ll (hopefully!) get to post some video.
Take care! =)
Well, a day late, but …
Ben and I had a fabulous Thanksgiving. We were guests at the Dexters’, and getting together with them is always fun. I think part of it that they say a lot of surprising, unexpected things for a minister and his wife; we talked about poo half the time. Dog poo, mostly, because because Chaco and Teddy were there, but they also brought up sewage treatment plants, and who doesn’t have a good sewage treatment plant story? (In the Scott household, we certainly do! My parents and sisters go to the STP in Massachusetts regularly, just for fun, and because “there’s a good view of Boston from there.” I, personally, went to a plant on a fifth grade field trip, and one girl dropped her notebook in and one boy almost fell in. And her notebook was RETURNED. Grody.)
Anyway, here’s a list of the things I’m thankful for:
1. My family.
2. My friends.
3. The church families we belong to.
4. Chaco =)
5. Jake and Kate. They’re always there for me, even in the hospital, and it’s comforting if somewhat annoying.
6. My doctors.
7. My therapists, Mark and Melissa.
8. Not having to get poked monthly or bi-monthly anymore for Coumadin.
9. Continually regaining my energy. It’s SLOW, but it’s there.
10. Our beautiful house.
We finally got some snow, too. It snowed Wednesday and didn’t get above 9F all day yesterday, so the snow hung around on the trees and was gorgeous.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Yesterday I had another session with Dr. Dave. I started off by telling him to please go ahead and wear me out — give me a really difficult workout — and he said, “I’m sorry, but given your medical history, that would be INSANE.” OK, I replied. (What else was I going to do?)
And then, he did give me a harder workout! We worked on the rowing machine for about 15 minutes and then did weights for 45. The rowing machine was fine (kind of boring, but all cardio equipment is, it seems), and the weights were pretty challenging. Dr. Dave has a gift for picking out exactly what settings you need on each machine. “Put the seat on 2, and then adjust this thing for your arms to 1,” he’ll instruct you. Then he puts the weights on 15 pounds or whatever … and it’s perfect! Then he stands next to you while you lift and chides you for doing stuff that will “make you need a massage therapist to follow you around all day,” which is kind of annoying but very necessary in my case. Anyway, it was a good workout, and pretty fun, too.
I also met with the hyperbaric chamber guy. He’s about 30, and he had a stroke when he was 8 years old that left him completely paralyzed on his left side. Then, 20 years later, he tried HB chamber therapy … and during his first treatment, he moved his ankle for the first time. Now, he’s walking perfectly. It seems to be a miracle. “With how many stroke patients has this worked?” I asked.
He thought for a minute. “Every single one of them,” he said. “The people with whom I see a 50% chance of improvement, say, are the MS victims.” He also cautioned me that he was only telling me this because I asked; he’s legally forbidden to spout off chances of improvement to convince people to plunk money into this treatment. So please don’t say anything about it.
The two major side effects are that you leave the chamber tired and hungry. Tired I was expecting; hungry I wasn’t, but I’ll take it. I haven’t been very hungry lately, and it would be really nice to crave a hamburger. I made an appointment for January 3.
“You made an appointment for the day after we return from our Christmas travel?” Ben asked me later when I told him about my visit. “That doesn’t sound very smart. What if we get delayed?” I hadn’t really considered that, I said. Ben, ever the skeptic, has a lot of concerns about this treatment. “This guy is either hopelessly optimistic or he’s nuts.” I disagree, or at least I want to. He basically promised me that I would improve, which is something that I desperately would like. Is it so awful to fall for these promises?
But then I started dreaming about being made magically well. I’d go for it, of course, but it’s kind of frightening. What would I DO? Would I teach science next year? (Maybe!) Would I get involved in brain research? (I would sure like to. Maybe CU has a program.) Get an MD? (No, I don’t think so.) But there are so many possibilities! What if I can’t choose one? What then? Can I still be a mom, or is there pressure to get a job? Aaagghh!
Anyway, it’s fun to think about. =)
Yesterday I had my first appointment with Dr. Dave Buchler, a physical trainer at the gym Ben suggested I try. The gym’s called “Flatirons Athletic Club”, and it’s down in southeast Boulder, kind of behind Michaels’.
Last week, I had an intake appointment with him. He spent 40 minutes reading my medical records, 15 minutes asking me questions about my medical records, and 5 minutes shooting the breeze with me. That is a LONG time to spend looking at my medical stuff.
At the end of the 40 minutes, he said, “Wow. You’ve been through the ringer, haven’t you?” He assured me that he would come up with a training program that wouldn’t wipe me out (my chief concern), shook my hand, and then I left to go enjoy the hot tub. (Which is good as long as nobody presses the “bubbles button”, as I discovered yesterday.)
Anyway, my session with Dr. Dave yesterday was pretty good. He talked (a lot!) about blood pressure, healthy things with protein to eat (most of which I’ve tried, and most of which taste like cardboard), my high pulse rate, what your pulse rate should be, etc. He’s smart. =)
However … I’m concerned with the general “stroke attitude” people take with me. By the end of my one-hour workout, I had walked at 2.7 mph on the treadmill and lifted a couple weights. I asked Dr. Dave, “Why are you keeping it so easy?”
“Well, your pulse rate is pretty high. But in addition, we don’t know what caused the strokes, and I don’t want to aggravate anything and cause you to re-stroke.” Well, I don’t want to re-stroke, either, but I think I’d prefer to take my chances. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life dancing around quietly with a low pulse rate just to protect from a condition that I don’t know what it is and that might cause another stroke.
My earliest memory is from when I was two. I was sitting on a stool in our kitchen in Oak Ridge, TN, and pretending that the marshmallow I was eating was a garbage can. I’d eaten the top off of it so that it opened and closed like a lid. Pretty cool, eh?
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the stuff Ben and I have done. It’s been a pretty exciting seven years, but my favorite memory isn’t from any of those exciting times or places … it’s from Ben’s apartment in Austin, TX.
It was my first time in Austin, and Trilogy (Ben’s former company) was having their “prom” that weekend. It was pretty darn fancy. Jay Leno was doing the entertainment. The guys ordered tuxes, courtesy of Trilogy, that were delivered to the office. The only problem was the sales meeting in the middle.
I really didn’t want to go. I didn’t want Ben living in Texas, period.
And so, at the last minute, we canceled. We stayed home, probably made macaroni and cheese for dinner, and danced. We went all the way through Ben’s CD collection; bad 80s music, Boyz II Men, Eric Clapton, and all these songs that I’ve never heard before. I had a FANTASTIC time. It was not only the dancing but Ben’s willingness to forgo his company meeting/dance/whatever you want to call it that made it so. Thank you, Ben, for taking the time to spend with me. I appreciate it immensely. So much so that I’ll forgive you for the airplane ticket comment you made. (Ben agreed to pay for my visits out to Texas, but he got a bee in his pants when the tickets went up to $200 or so from the $150 they were before.) =)
Note to readers: it was merely for pleasure that I wrote that. I love to pick on Ben about the airplane tickets. Please don’t read anything else into it.
Ben’s got a meeting in Paris this month, so on November 29, we’re departing for Charles De Gaul! We’re staying two blocks away from the Louvre! Cool! The bad news is that I got a French travel dictionary and CD, which I’ve been listening to in the car, and I can’t even remember what they’re saying long enough to repeat it. Oh well!
I’m lonely. Ben’s in the middle of nowhere, PA. I had zero trick-or-treaters last night; our neighborhood had trick-or-treaters, mind you, but they got in their SUV and skipped my house. What the heck? They went to my neighbor’s house! I had the lights on! Our pumpkins lit up! Did they know that Bonzo used to live here? Were they offended by the garbage that blew around the front porch? Who knows. I’m just very, very lonely :(
I went to the post office today to mail a package and the post lady chided me AGAIN for my handwriting. This time, at least, I had the guts to say something.
“My goodness, what tiny handwriting!”
[Me, fuming.] “I’ve had a stroke. It gets really small. I don’t know why.” [Resume fuming.]
Strokes suck. I feel like I’m contributing *nothing* to society by staying at home. My energy level, however, prevents me from getting a job or doing anything fun. =(
