My Tribe – Page 36 – Apron Strings for Emily

27 January 2009

Hubby & Emily Plus … ??

I don’t know what it is, but just like Wordgirl, I am drawn to yet repelled by Jo.n & Ka.te Pl.us 8. Actually, I’m more drawn to it rather than repelled.

I’m sure part of it is the whole Asian bit; as Jo.n is half-Korean. And I’m sure it’s the whole twin fascination thing I’ve always had. Except it’s not really the twin “look-alike” thingy … it’s more the science aspect of it. The whole nature vs. nurture thing. It’s just frickin’ amazing to see how all eight children who share such strong genetic traits have such distinct and unique personalities.

And I’m sure the whole “repelling” part of it is simply the fact that Hubby & I can’t experience even one-eigth of what they have. While I’d love to have a household full of kids, I’d be happy with even just one. As in one of the eight Go.sselin children. (I’d love to take Cara or maybe Aa.den or Hannah …)

I can’t quite be angry at Jo.n and Ka.te. After all, they also had issues trying to conceive. Like myself, Kate was diagnosed with PCOS. However, unlike Hubby & me … she and Jon were successful. Obviously.

So yesterday after Hubby left to go back home, I was left to my own devices. And seeing that I finally got cable in the bedroom, I promptly plopped myself in front of the TV and started to flip channels. I finally settled onto TLC and watched a marathon of Jo.n & Ka.te episodes.

Like a moth to a flame … (Or more appropriately, like a fly to a bug zapper … )

As I watched the episodes, there happened to be one particular commercial that would run in between TV breaks. And it got to me … Every. Single. Time.

Perhaps it was because I was missing my husband. Perhaps it was because I was watching a show that involved raising children. Perhaps it’s because it was because this commercial reminded me about something I will never be able to experience.

Or perhaps it’s because as much as I wish I could give my husband that gift … that moment in life … I will never be able to.

And that breaks my heart …

22 January 2009

Calling 911 …

… is the easiest way to meet Firefighters and EMTs at CVS. Oh, and it’s a great way to get recommendations for a new primary doctor, too.

So yesterday my day started off riding the train to work. No different than any other day these past weeks, but that morning I happened to have certain personal health issues on my mind. Like the fact I had been feeling like crap over the past few days; nauseated, hungry but no will to eat, vertigo.

I had left work early on Tuesday because of those same symptoms, all while people around me asked if perhaps I was “with child.” A matter I scoffed at, and then had to remind myself that I was around a new group of people. People of who didn’t know my struggles with IF over the past decade or so. And just to clear it up right away, for those that might be wondering … No, I’m not pregnant.

Anyhoo … When I got back to my place on Tuesday morning, I promptly plopped myself in front of the TV just long enough to watch history being made and then headed off to bed. Where I slept for five hours straight. Then I woke up, munched on something that might be considered dinner and promptly climbed back into bed for the rest of the night. My goal was to get up the next morning and make it to work, even if it killed me.

Which brings us back to yesterday morning on the train. As I struggled to keep my thoughts together (and my surroundings from feeling as if it was swirling around me … vertigo sucks!), I happened to look up at the ads directly across the aisle from where I sat. And there was a sign up above that advertised a local hospital system in the area. Yes, I remember thinking to myself, I really do need to start looking for a primary doctor. After all, I do have quite a medical history. Plus, this feeling sick is for the birds. And hmm … I wonder if this hospital system has some good docs in the area?

Despite the haziness in my brain, I made it to work safely and through half of the day. Until the nausea associated with the spinning room became too unbearable. An inner ear infection, I thought It was then that I decided I should probably go to an urgent care center of some sorts. But where? I’m too new to the area … oh, and by the way I have no car, so if I did go to one, it’d have to be close to one of the train lines. Then a co-worker suggested MinuteClinic over at CVS. You know, the Nurse Practitioner (NP)-run clinic that can diagnose and treat simple health-related issues like minor scrapes and bruises, upper-respiratory infections and … oh, I don’t know … ear infections! So I located the one closest to my place and close to one of the train lines, Google-Mapped directions* and headed out the door. All after emailing my staff and cc’ing leadership that I should be back the next day. Famous last words.

So I stumbled over to the CVS, signed in and was promptly seen by the NP. I told her my simple story (which, remember this … because I tell it over and over again); that I’ve been having dizziness and nausea for the past 3 days. I thought it was a simple flu bug, but since it was still lingering I thought it might have been an ear infection. After all, I’m prone to developing ear infections. And since I was new to the area and didn’t have a primary doctor yet, I thought I’d just get checked out at the MinuteClinic.

Then the NP looked at me with one of those sideways glances; asking me how many ear infections I’ve had over the past year. This would be #4 since the previous January. Then she tsk-tsk’d me. “I don’t think I can treat you here,” she said, clearly referring to her handy MinuteClinic manual. “I think we should send you to an urgent care center.”

Again, I calmly explained that I’m new here, I didn’t know where to go, I had no car. Oh, and 4 ear infections is a small number from the previous amounts I’ve had over the past few years. And in the mean time, I started to feel anxious. I thought to myself, “WTF? This has now been well over a d*mn minute, and all I want are my antibiotics!”

“Please don’t send me to the ER or Urgent Care,” I told her as I began to feel more and more anxious. “I don’t have anyone here to take me. My husband is more than four hours away and I’m new to the area.” (Cue tears now.) It seriously didn’t help that I felt like crap and I’ve been known to get over-emotional when I can’t think straight.

Without going into further detail, let’s just say that shortly after the waterworks began the NP decided at that moment to slap a blood pressure (BP) cuff on me. And because by then I’d been at the verge of hyperventilating from all the anxiety … let’s just say I broke the 2o0 mark with my Systolic and the 120 mark on the diastolic. Then the NP really freaked out, which in turn freaked me out even more. And when my BP didn’t go down after 1o minutes? Yep, that’s when she made the call to 911.

Okay, so the nurse in me knew that this was the only course of action to take. Especially for someone why was experiencing hypertensive urgency symptoms. But that didn’t stop me from just about begging the NP to let me find my own way to an urgent care center or an ER. “If I can just get back home,” I told her, “I’ll call my nearest family member (an aunt and cousins from my side, a cousin from Hubby’s side) to come pick me up.” But alas, the NP was smart enough not to listen to me … I mean seriously, what if I passed out on the train on the way back to my place? Or worse, what if I passed out alone at home without anyone knowing? So yes … the nurse in me knew, despite the supreme embarrassment of having the NP and the subsequent EMTs (from this fine city’s fire department) know that I’m an RN that can’t even take care of herself. That I had to be escorted to an ER to get checked out.

But … at least I managed to get cute firemen and EMTs to come to the CVS and literally pick me up. And even though I rolled out of the store, wrapped up in a silly blanket … they all had me cracking up as they insisted I do the “queen wave.”

I was subsequently taken to the nearest ER … with all the bells and whistles of the ambulance, to boot … where I spent the next few hours being looked over and treated by some wonderful doctors** and nurses. My lab studies were okay, which meant I didn’t develop any kidney (or other organ) damage from such high BP readings. And eventually my systolic BP came down to under 200 after having received some anti-hypertensive drugs through my IV.

It turns out that I was experiencing side effects from abruptly stopping a particular medication. A drug that I had stopped taking three days ago because I couldn’t afford to refill the prescription. Because the stupid frickin’ frackin’ Employee Services Department at my former employer (who happened to be a Health Insurance Company) decided to terminate my medical benefits … which, for an RN who has been working for them and helping their customers weed through the system to understand what can and can’t be covered … really pissed me off. And the thing is, I knew I had health insurance to the end of this month because I researched this before I left. And I knew that this was one of my employee benefits from working at this particular Health Insurance Comany. (Hello … not dumb here!***)

But more on that, perhaps in another post. Anyway …

Because of the panic that ensued during my trip to the (more-than-I-bargained-for) MinuteClinic … Hubby managed to book a flight out and arranged for his cousin (who lives in the suburbs) to come stay with me in the ER. He also managed to contact my parents who, in turn arranged for my cousin to sit with me until Hubby could get into town. And for that … I couldn’t be more grateful.

And seriously? It’s amazing how one moment I went from feeling all alone and terrified to feeling incredibly loved and supported. Just by being there to talk to me and keep me company, the two of them helped calm my nerves and soothe my anxiety. It certainly helped that Hubby’s cousin is also an RN who I could clearly trade medical jokes with … and that my cousin was all game for checking out the cute ER doctors and residents with me. (Hey, I was sick … not blind!) In any case, I can’t even begin to express all the gratitude I have for them in just a few sentences. Because seriously? These people proved to me that I don’t have to feel so alone out here … that they are available to help out while Hubby still wraps things up back home. I am truly lucky …

Hubby did end up coming in to town, except it wasn’t until after I was discharged from the ER. My cousin drove me back to our place where my Aunt and other cousin (her mom and sister) came to bring us dinner. The four of us sat around (in my furniture-less place) watching Am.erican Id.ol on the TV (and then Ir.on Man on blue-ray …. ooooh!) until Hubby drove in from the airport. And once I was in his arms … well, the world melted away. While I felt incredibly bad that he had to drop what he was doing to come be by my side, I was just incredibly happy and relieved that he was next to me.

Oh and remember that advertisement for a local hospital system I saw on the train? Well … of all places, the EMTs took me to that hospital. I guess seeing that ad yesterday morning was literally a sign of things to come. But hey, at least now I know a few good docs in the area!

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

* Google Maps is one of the greatest inventions for those that aren’t familiar with public transportation in a big city. This is has been a life-saver for me during these car-less times!

** Ironically, one of my docs name was “Trigger.” As in “Let’s come up with a trigger diagnosis. Or “That doctor is known for his Trigger finger when ordering labs and studies.” Or better yet, “The guy is trigger-happy when giving those IV meds” Seriously, the list could go on and on …

*** Okay, well maybe just a little … After all, who’s the idiot that ended up in the emergency room?

13 January 2009

Everything's The Same …

… But different.

Yes, I know that things are “physically” different lately … especially as to my actual location these days. Lots of new things to discover, lots of new routines to learn. For instance, I’m still trying to figure out exactly what time I need to leave our place in order to catch the train to make it to work on time. (And notice I said “place” and not “home“!) Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned is that there *is* a difference when leaving 15 minutes earlier or later from the previous day.

Anyhoo …

Hubby and I realized around Christmas that this year would be his 20th high school reunion. Which meant that next year would be mine. While I know Hubby will most likely not go to his, I’m still on the fence as to whether or not I would want to go to mine. That is … if we even have one. Because, quite frankly … we never had a 15 year one (which most other graduating classes from my high school have had one). And also because finding people I graduated with on Facebook is much easier to do than I ever thought. Plus, going through social network websites like that afford you the opportunity to only contact those people that you genuinely want to catch up with.

I’ve been rather lucky. My first golden contact happened almost 10 years ago, when a good friend (let’s call her E) from high school contacted me through classmates-dot-com. From her, I managed to get in touch with yet another one of our good friends, G. And while we all live in different parts of the US, we have managed to keep in touch these past 10 years, seeing each other separately at various times. There has only been one opportunity for the three of us to gather together one time in all those years … but in true “girlfriend fashion,” it was a “slumber party!” And no, there were no “light-as-a-feather” seances or incidents of frozen of underpants. It was just simply good ole “sit-in-front-of-the-TV and eat chocolate” girlfriend fun.

Last Wednesday night, I received a phone call from G. She has been a rock for me these past few years; especially over the past two years. And even though we might not talk on the phone or email as often as we’d like, she had this knack for sending snail mail at the times I needed it most. Now, whether that was intentional … I’ll never know. But her words always managed to soothe me; remind me that she was there for me when I needed her, even if that wasn’t physically written in the letter.

In any case, G’s phone call that night was to deliver some news. And yes, it was that news; the news that she was pregnant. And not only was she pregnant, but she was more than 7 months along and due at the end of March. She didn’t tell me sooner, she told me in our conversation, because she knew that I was not in the best shape emotionally at the time she found out for herself.

I honestly could not be anything more than excited for G. Truth be told, I was waiting for the day that I would be the receiver of such news. It was only a matter of time, as G and her husband have now been married more than a few years. And, not to sound as if I’m just “going through the motions” here … I’m genuinely happy for G and her hubby.

What surprised me most during this phone conversation is that I had this incredible longing to see G pregnant. Why this particular high school friend and not any another … or not even my SIL during her recent pregnancies? I don’t know if I could explain it clear enough. But I will try my best …

Part of me thinks it’s because I can still recall how my friends and were back in high school. How innocent we looked. How our futures seemed so hazy and obscure; so distant from where we were at that time in our lives. Now that future is here, and we can’t seem to slow it down or stop it from moving forward. So by capturing an image this particular friend during her pregnancy … I relate it as a way for us to slow down the moment and enjoy the happiness of it all.

Something in the back of my mind seems to think the need to capture this moment is also related to the recent changes I’ve made in my life … one which doesn’t have me dwelling on my “failure” to have my own children. One that has me focusing on the best part of myself and repairing my overall health … versus focusing on what I would probably consider the worst bits of me. You know … the over-stressed, overly sensitive, “Why not me?” type of person.

In any case, I’m ecstatic for G and cannot wait to see pictures of her little one, due the end of March.

Last week, I also had the opportunity to spend time with another high school friend, K … the one who lives about a block and a half away from our place. I also got to meet her hubby and her beautiful (almost) 9 month old daughter. After seeing videos of K’s baby on her blog for months, I was finally able to hold that cutie-pie girl. And, oh my! She’s just as charming and sassy as she was on all those videos I’ve watched.

Oh, and did I mention that K’s hubby is a sous chef at a pretty fancy-schmancy restaurant? And that I got to sample some of his fantastic cooking that night? Yeah … It. Was. Simply. Delish!

After chatting online with K for months, talking to her face-to-face was incredible. It was like we picked up where we left off more than 15 years ago! That level of comfort, of humor … it was as if we both jumped off a wagon back in the midst of college to go our separate ways, only to catch the same wagon 15 years later without missing a beat.

The conversation flowed seamlessly that night. (I stayed waaay past my bedtime for a “work” night!) And the more K & I talked, the more we realized how much we’ve changed over the years. Not in personality … as we still blathered about in the same witty sarcastic dialogue as we did in HS. But rather we’ve changed in the way we’ve approached certain situations. And that our own personal experiences made us feel as if we were no longer “invincible” … that the paths our lives took, although very different, taught us pain and frustration and heartache.

But in the end, K & I both realized that despite what we’ve been through, we consider ourselves very truly lucky to be where we’re at today. Both of us are not quite “finished” with what we want to accomplish in our lives (K with her career and me with … well, I still don’t really know), but what we’ve been through and where we are today is nothing short of amazing.

After both these encounters last week, I realized that even though there has been many changes in my life over the years (whether personal or professional), deep down I know I’m the same person inside. I still have that silly, quirky personality, and while sometimes hidden, I know it’s somewhere in this mind and body. I just need to dig deep down to find myself again.

Wow. Long and babbling post. But as I know that both G and K (and not to forget E) read this blog, I wanted to let them know just how much their friendships mean to me. Really, girls … even though we don’t see or talk to each other much, I just wanted to let you know that you are all very special to me. And your friendships, especially because of my lack of any sort of sisterhood-bond, are something that I will treasure always.

07 January 2009

Pie is Home

Pie is home … and people always come home.
– The Pie-Maker, “Pushing Daisies”

I don’t know why it’s taken me so long, but I’ve fallen in love with series “Pushing Daisies.” I’ve caught bits and pieces of the show, yet never saw a complete episode. But what I did see, I liked. Visually, it’s an amazing show. But as to the plot? I had no clue.

That is until Sunday. When, out of desperation for lack of TV viewing (still no cable and no good signal available for local TV), Hubby & I went to Target to get some DVD’s. Buy a TV show DVD, Hubby suggested. After all, I am known for watching marathons of “House” or “CSI” on the USA network. That, and it’ll probably get me through the week until the cable guy gets here. So hence the reason I’ve started watching Season 1 of “Pushing Daisies.”

Besides the incredibly saturated colors and equally quirky characters, the other incredible aspect of this show is the dialogue. It’s witty. It’s fast. It’s full of pop culture. And its dialogue so reminds me of another one of my favorite series of all time, “Gilmore Girls.” No … there is no comparison when it comes to story lines. Both shows are uniquely dissimilar in plot and characters. However, the quick and clever exchanges among the characters are very much alike. And I’m very much looking forward to watching the rest of the series … which, unfortunately has been canceled in the midst of its second season. (Total bummer …)

pushing_daisies But that wasn’t what I was about to blog about. Really, the subject matter (minus the “Pie” reference) is in the title of this post … which happens to relate to a line in one of the “Pushing Daisies” episodes. Home.

After living in our house for over 12 years and now living in a different location, I’m having a difficult time distinguishing what I should label as home. It kind of reminds me of when Hubby & I first moved into our suburban house after just getting married; when I would still call my parents’ place “home” even though I knew that my new “home” was with Hubby. I had to adjust to the fact that I was now making a “home” with my husband.

This is what’s been troubling me these past two days, as I’ve met new people in my new job. I can’t tell you how many people have asked me what area I was calling “home” these days. And I would respond by telling them which neighborhood I lived in. However, I would also find myself telling them that “home” was still in my old town.

1189477345_l What I realized yesterday evening after work, was the reason I struggled with calling my new place “home” … Home for me is not a physical location that could be located by GPS. Oh no, home was definitiely where the heart is.

And my heart is with my Hubby.

So until Hubby is officially by my side … I won’t consider this new place “home.”

04 January 2009

Unraveled

I knew when I decided to take on a new career path that I would be separated from him for at least two months. And I knew that we’d see each other on the weekends, as we both spent the time concluding business at our old place while moving into our new one. What I didn’t expect was that it would be so hard to say good-bye. Especially this first time.

Except it’s not good-bye. Rather it’s a “See you in 4 days.” But that doesn’t stop my heart from feeling as if it’s a ball of yarn unraveling as the distance between the two of us widens.

Since being married more than a decade ago, we have never been more than two days apart from each other … two and a half, at most. While I know many couples have survived in long distance relationships or cherish the time that they have on their own, we’re just simply not like that.

I’ve had it said to me that it’s “unnatural” that the two of us want to spend each and every moment together. That it’s strange that we enjoy all the same activities, or that we take an interest in whatever any hobby or activity that the other one decides to take up. I’ve even been told that perhaps his involvement in every aspect of my life is more of a “control” issue or a “possessive” streak in his personality.

The truth is that we’re just not a very sociable couple. Not to say that we don’t have wonderfully close friends or even closer family members. It’s just that we don’t tend to go out with other friends or couples a whole lot. Other than our hobbies and activities, we are very much homebodies. And we quite enjoy being as such.

So that is what makes this temporary separation much more difficult. At least for me; especially as I’m in a completely new and wonderfully strange environment. Because as excited as I am to be here, I just wish my best friend was by my side to experience everything with me.