Month: October 2007

It is October 14 and I have not had a spare thought for Halloween costumes. I usually have a costume plan hammered out by this point. The costume plan is important so that I know how much time I’m going to have to spend. I may not have been thinking about costumes, but the kids have.

Kiki has designed her own costume. She wants to be an anime style girl. Not from any show she’s seen, or book she has read, but one of her own creation. I’m hoping that we can find things at the thrift store to alter which will be close enough. I don’t want to make it from scratch which was what Kiki intended.

Link wants to be the Master Chief from Halo. I’m not sure where he fixated on this because we don’t play Halo. I tried to see if maybe he wanted to be a Naruto ninja instead. No. He wants body armor and a big gun he can stick on his back. Eep. Hopefully I’ll find some child sized shoulder pads and a dirtbike helmet that I can spray paint green. I am NOT going to try to bid on the ebay Master Chief costume. It is going for over $200.

Gleek seems inclined to select clothes from her dress-up box. Last I heard she wants to be a ninja fairy princess. I have been corrected. She is not a princess. She is just a ninja who wears a dress. The only accesory she is lacking is the ninja head band.

Patches wants to be a spider. This one is easy because all I have to do is pull the spider costume out of storage in the garage.

So it looks like I have two easy costumes and two tricky ones. Hopefully I can pull it all together in the next two weeks.

I believe in healing by faith, the power of the mind to heal the body. I also believe that prayers make a difference and miracles can happen. During my medical adventures in heart monitoring I tried to exercise faith toward making myself better. But there is a difference between true faith and trying to make myself well by sheer force of will. Faith says “What should I do? and thy will be done.” Will says “I’m better now, really I am. That tremor there is just an after effect, but I’m all better.” Faith is patient. Will is petulant and insistent. Will is my good friend. Together we have set many goals and achieved them. Will is a familiar tool. So, familiar that I didn’t notice it masquerading as faith. But faith to be healed is more than willing it to be so. Having the faith to be healed is listening when you’re told to go to the doctor. It means taking the medicines to restore health. It means accepting that taking a medication daily does not make you an unwell person; often the reverse.

I thought I was exercising my faith to be healed. I was instead exercising will power. Two weeks ago I was told as part of a blessing prayer that I need to get more sleep. I’ve also known for weeks that my diet had turned into a mess of skipped meals and sugary snacks. In the past two days I’ve slept until my body was done sleeping and I made sure that I ate nutritious food at regular intervals. The heart palpitations and mental fogginess are gone today. I feel normal, healthy.

I ought to feel stupid for over looking such an obvious solution. Curiously I don’t feel stupid. I just feel relieved to find a solution that does not involve further medical intervention. I feel glad to have the validation of the message I was given weeks ago. I feel grateful to have this lesson in the difference between faith and will power.

I will continue to eat and sleep well. Hopefully that will be the end of my adventures in heart monitoring.

Because some of you (Including my parents who found out about my medical adventures via this journal. In hindsight a phone call would have been wise. Sorry Mom and Dad!) may be curious about how that whole heart monitor thing turned out, I offer the following update.

I’ve heard nothing from the doctors.

This is actually good news. If there was something wrong with my heart, they would have called me. Instead I get to wait a week for my primary care doctor to tell me that my heart is completely healthy. I kind of expected this. It feels like the palpitations are symptomatic rather than causative.

Non-terrifying explanations for my symptoms:

Pregnancy — Nope. We’ve ruled this one out.

Early stages of menopause — I’m young for this, but it isn’t unheard of.

Anxiety — I don’t like this one. In order to fix it I would have to slow down when I really want to get well so that I can go faster.

Hypoglycemia

I’m currently pursuing hypoglycemia as a theory because I can do my own empirical testing. I had a very anxious/palpitatious hour last night about an hour after eating a very sweet dessert. Today I’m having no sweets. Instead I’m snacking on nuts regularly (every 20-30 minutes) and drinking lots of water in addition to regular healthy meals. I was dragging this morning, but my energy has been picking up steadily and I’m feeling better. Granted that eating right will help almost any condition, but if I can make this problem go away merely by eating right, I count that as a win.

In preparation for shipping books soon, I ordered a pile of shipping supplies. 16 packages arrived this morning via UPS. As I watched them unload I mentally checked off the items I’d ordered. There was one package I couldn’t identify. I looked at it closer and realized that it was not part of my shipping supply order, but it was definitely addressed to me.

I took the mystery package inside and opened it. Inside were copies of Alcatraz and Mistborn: The Well of Ascension. I pulled the books out with delight and read the note enclosed with them. An LJ reader and Schlock fan (Blackcoat) attended a book signing that is part of Brandon Sanderson’s book tour. He took the time to get these books signed and then mailed them to us.

This delights me on several levels.

First and foremost, someone cared enough to send us books. Even more than that, he cared enough to get the books inscribed “To the Tayler family.” It is easy to have an impulse to do something nice for someone else. I have those all the time. But following through is another matter entirely. There are thousands of phone calls I’ve intended to make, but didn’t. Thousands of flowers not given. Thousands of cookies not made. (Actually lots of those cookies did get made, they just didn’t get delivered to the intended recipient.) The unexpected kindness, given with no thought of return, is priceless without measure. I’m honored to receive.

Second, we know Brandon Sanderson. It amuses me greatly to think of Brandon writing this inscription without a clue about which Tayler family these books are going to. Or perhaps there was some conversation and Brandon knew exactly who the books were bound for. That makes me happy to think about too. Either way kind people were conspiring to do something nice for us.

Third, These books arrive in the middle of a rough week. Now I have new books to read while Howard is gone. Yay for good fiction!

(Some of these things I already knew, but that doesn’t stop me from learning them again.)

Junior High band concerts exist for the purpose of teaching beginning students how to properly behave while performing. This makes them good venues for teaching other kids how audience members should behave at concerts. Unfortunately that is not a restful experience. Next time I’ll limit myself to one learning performer and one learning audience member.

Gleek can not treat music as a passive experience. Music is to be sung to, or danced to, or clapped to, or bounced to. She loves music dearly, but she is compelled to participate. She’ll make a great learning performer, just now she is not a respectful audience member.

Reading about Harry Potter’s dead parents just before one of the kids discovered the heart monitor was an unhappy congruence. They were all a little worried until I explained that I was just spying on my heart to see what it is doing. I haven’t heard about it since, so hopefully none of them have acquired new fears about this.

When they assured me that wearing the heart monitor was completely painless, they forgot to mention sticker removal. They also forgot to mention that these particular stickers sometimes cause enough skin irritation that they leave little blisters around the edges of where they were located. True it isn’t really painful, but it is annoying. And I’ll be wearing high collared shirts until the red marks go away. (A moment of insight this evening made me realize that it was not the stickers themselves which caused the red rings. It was a chemical reaction between the “sticky” and the “sticky remover.” Prior to using the “sticky remover” there was no more irritation than that caused by a bandaid. The scientist in me totally wants to test this theory, but not enough to give myself more chemical burns.)

Good friends make a world of difference. This includes my backyard neighbor who spontaneously invited me and all my kids over for dinner yesterday, thus saving me from attending the Junior High concert with children who were starving as well as hyper-active. And the friends who followed Howard home to keep us company when I was ready to melt into a little puddle of fatigue and stress. And the friend who called this evening just to talk and was completely understanding that even though I wanted to talk, I had to manage all my evening chaos.

Gleek and Patches both need more Mommy time.

Link and Kiki both need help with photography projects.

Cub scouts really enjoy pretending to be injured while thier friends pretend to administer first aid. They particularly liked the life threatening injuries or the ones that had blood to be staunched.

I like going shopping with Howard when we’re both relaxed and interested in enjoying the experience. Going out to lunch with Howard is fun too. He leaves tomorrow for the last trip of this year. I’ll be glad when he gets home.

If you ever have to go do a fretful medical thing, I highly recommend taking a professional humorist along. It makes things so much more fun. Fortunately I had one handy, so I hauled Howard with me to go get my heart monitor.

In the car on the way down:
Sandra: “I can just pretend we’re driving together in the car for no particular reason.”
Howard: “Is that this morning’s quota for denial?”
S: “De Nile is my friend. It has fish in it.” Short pause for thought “And mud. It has fish and mud.”
H: “And crocodiles.”
S: “But they’re okay cause I just pretend they are my friends.”

The heart monitor has seven wires attached to sticky patches. The wires connect to a little box the size of a deck of cards. It is optimally designed to read the electrical impulses of a heartbeat without being overtly annoying. It is not designed to be discreet. It is all lumpy under my clothes. So I’ll be wearing stuff baggy for the next 24 hours. I’ll also apparently be keeping a journal of anything which might affect my heart rate. Things like eating, exercising, being upset, etc. The monitor also has a little blue button on it. I am supposed to push the button if I think a heart event of any note is taking place. This puts a little marker on the recording. So far I’ve yet to use the blue button. As much as I don’t like my heart going flippity-flop, I want it do demonstrate the capability at least once today.

After getting me wired, Howard and I went shopping together. The stores were not very exciting (Office Max, Sam’s Club, Robert’s Crafts, and a storage unit) but it was fun to be there with Howard. I like hanging out with him and exchanging whimsical comments. Things like seeing a whole roll of raffle tickets for sale and suggesting we should buy them because then we would totally win the prize.

On the trip home we amused ourselves by reviewing the heart monitor instructions. One entire paper was devoted to assuring nervous heart patients that while these tests take several days to process, if there is something to truly be concerned about, it will be addressed quickly. Only they didn’t say “quickly” or “urgently” or even “In an emergency fashion.” Instead they said “emergently.” I think they were trying to express emergency and urgently in the same word, but I’m not sure.

Howard then spent the rest of the drive finding creative uses for the word “emergently.” He demonstrated merging gently. He demonstrated emerging into an intersection gently. There was at least one more, but I forget what it was.

I love Howard. He can make me laugh even when I’m going to one of my least favorite places in the world. The heart monitor was handed out at the same hospital which did my radiation therapy. It is also the same hospital where Howard stayed for when he had myocarditis. The care and people there are excellent, it just is not a happy place for me. But Howard makes me laugh and asks cheerfully if I’ve gotten to push my blue button yet.

I do not know what I’d do with out him.

Life marches on despite my personal emotional crises. The children need to go to school and to be fed, and to be made to do homework, and to be put to bed. There are necessary business tasks. Laundry happens. None of this goes away because I choose today to have an emotional crisis. It merely piles up if my crisis causes me to neglect it. Fortunately having stuff to do keeps me from spinning in mental circles, so that is good.

I had my fourth session teaching the creative writing class today. It continues to go variously. The early class continues to be loud and chaotic, but each of the kids there has produced multiple stories. They sizzle with energy and some of it lands on the page. Derailment Boy continues to be a major distraction. He doesn’t really want to be there. Today I found out that his dad is currently dating the mom of one of the giggle girls. This explains much of his behavior. I can see the conflicts raging inside him. And in her too. Neither of them is particularly happy about the prospect of the other as a step sibling. Not only that but the talked about how their parents are going to abandon them to the care of relatives and go on a cruise together. Apparently I’m hosting a soap opera as well as a writing class. But addressing the issues by talking about them a little helped Derailment Boy calm down some.

I’m having a harder time pulling stories out of the afternoon class. I get them excited and creative and they start to write. They’re so excited that they take the stories home to work on them. I then never see the stories again. They vanish never to return. I need to send a note to parents pleading that they help the stories get finished and sent back. I need to have finished stories to include in the book.

Last night we got to have dinner with some long time friends. They’ve lived 20 minutes away from us for a decade, but somehow we fell out of touch. I’m glad that they made the effort to contact us and to host us for dinner. It was really fun. We’ll need to do it again soon because we’ve barely scratched the surface on getting reacquainted. Also they have pet chickens and my kids think that is the coolest thing ever. Gleek in particular loved picking up the chickens and carrying them around. These were really nice chickens. They would just let the kids walk over and pick them up. That is completely unlike all my prior experiences with chickens, which all involved pecking and flapping.

Now if only my kids would go to sleep so Howard and I could have our together time.

You aren’t supposed to notice your heartbeat. It is the fundamental rhythm of your life. When that steady beat comes to your attention, it is only because something has gone awry. Sometimes that “awry” is joyful, like the sudden jump in heart rate when that one special person notices you. Other times the “awry” is terrified, as in the thumping heart and adrenaline surge of a vehicular accident.

For the past month my heartbeat has occupied a significant portion of my attention. This is because it has begun, for no apparent reason, to trip over itself. I’ll be sitting at my computer and suddenly Thump THUMP with a succession of smaller beats as it finds a rhythm again. This has been worrisome, although the word “worrisome” completely understates the gamut of fear, hope, and denial I’ve felt over the past month. I hoped it was stress and would therefore go away. I hoped it was a thyroid imbalance and therefore easily fixable. I hoped many things. Mostly I hoped that it wasn’t a real sensation, that I was somehow making it up. The world is a very strange place when you spend time hoping you have a psychosomatic illness.

I’m not completely stupid. I’ve been to two different doctors over this. One did an EKG which was completely normal. The other did a thyroid test that was completely normal. The next step is to wear a heart monitor for a 24 hour period and hope to catch one of the thump events on tape. I’ve had the prescription for that sitting on my fridge for almost two weeks while I tried to pretend that I didn’t need to do it. In order for me to spend over $300 and 24 hours wired to a device, I have to admit that I believe there is something wrong. I twisted and turned a lot trying to not face it. This morning I finally called to schedule the heart monitor.

Because something is wrong.

And I don’t know what it is.

And that terrifies me.

I would be a lot more complacent right now if I could believe in the omniscience of doctors. But I’ve been through a medical ringer before and I remember how much of what they do is based on guess work. That’s probably when I figured out that my doctor is no smarter than I am. He just has a different education and experience set. This means that for ordinary illnesses I hardly need him at all. I can figure it out by myself. In fact I’m often better off managing things by myself because viruses don’t get better more quickly for having spent a $20 copay to identify them as viruses.

At the beginning of this thing I spent a lot of time with Dr. Google. That was where I learned that what I have are “palpitations.” I also learned that the shakiness and anxiety that accompany them are common. I’ve observed symptoms closely, trying to collect enough data to figure this thing out by myself. Stress, lack of sleep, and caffeine make the palpitations worse, exercise does not. Pretty much every source ended with telling me I should go see a doctor, but then so do the entries on sore throats.

I’m done trying to research and guess. I’m done hoping it will just go away. Tomorrow morning I go get wired.

I loved Star Blazers as a kid. I remember watching it in the afternoons. So when I saw it on Netflix, I borrowed the first disc to share with my kids.

We just watched the first part. I’m still trying to decide whether to cry with nostalgia, laugh at the horrible hokey-ness, or wander away bored.