Just to keep it exciting…

Today was my husband’s day to get injured. He fractured his right ring finger rather badly. Thankfully, since the closest hospital is 40 minutes away, there is a medical center in town that has seven day a week openings - and they take emergencies like this one. There was a slight chance he might still need the ER, but the hand surgeon finally called and said it would be all right if the doctor there bandaged it (with this cool wrap that hardens like a cast) and then he has to go see the specialist tomorrow to get it set.

He’s luckily not in terrible pain at this point. In fact, he’s barely in pain at all, which is a bit strange… but the doctor tested his finger (nerve damage was a concern) and he could feel even the lightest touch… so he’s just lucky, I suppose.

Anyway, that was our excitement for Sunday…

Yesterday we saw a wolf… and there were two young male elk in our yard twice today (we think it’s the same two we saw last week). Last night a gorgeous mule deer (a doe) was in our driveway and I was able to go out on the deck and watch her eat. She let me go all the way out - I was probably less than 30 feet away. I could hear the grass tear out of the ground as she ate… I was moved to tears. I’m such a sap, but I adore animals and the mule deer are so sweet and pretty… and at the same time damn adorable. Their ears are so big! Click here to see!

So, there are issues with the house (a lot of things need to be fixed - like the dishwasher, and there is a massive carpenter ant invasion happening on the deck), but eventually they will get resolved and we don’t care. It’s so beautiful up here… and if my husband can handle the cold of the winters, I think we’d totally try to buy in this town. The people are SO nice up here - it’s almost bizarre, given where we came from!

Tonight a woman whose husband had also hurt his hand saw me as I picked up our Chinese dinner. She recognized me from the clinic and said hello… I hadn’t even seen her! I’d seen her poor husband (who had a log dropped on his hand). She said, “oh I just saw you at the clinic - your husband came out with a big bandage on his hand, too!”

We chatted for a few minutes, and I explained (because she asked - and here when people ask you something, they’re actually interested in the answer) how he hurt himself (trying to open a box without scissors), and that we’d just moved here. She welcomed us to the Chaturbaterooms.com area. Everyone does when you say your are new, and in the stores I stick out like a sore thumb because they are huge and I don’t know my way around yet… and the shopping carts are ginourmous! I am used to tiny little Manhattan carts and stores. It’s quite the change…

I love it. The other night I took the dog out, and happened to look up. My breath caught. I have never in my life seen so many stars. It was magical.

So, the city girl is handling mountain life okay so far. Not crazy about the giant poisonous spiders (apparently there are black widows up here, along with a spider known as the “False black widow” and they’re quite big), and I could’ve done without the trip to the ER… I also still haven’t done any driving. It’s been nearly six months since I was behind the wheel, and with how inexperienced I am, I am nervous about the driving out here. It’s all curvy mountain roads and highway driving (which everyone swears is easy, but apparently I’m the lone idiot in the world who is terrible at and terrified of changing lanes). Sometimes, just for fun, it’s curvy mountain highways. ;)

Anyway, I’m determined to conquer that fear… when my husband hurt himself today I thought he might not be able to drive. I was completely prepared to do it, if need be. I’d have been scared out of my mind, but I’d have done it. The reality, however, is that with eight fingers (his ring finger and pinky are useless on the one hand) he’s still a better driver than I am with all ten. He just has so much experience and he’s a damn fine driver anyway. Plus, he’s handled the road we live on a zillion times at this point… since he wasn’t in much pain, he was able to do it. My mother told me she was relieved, my sister thought I should’ve driven. My mother hasn’t been in a car with me behind the wheel, but my sister has… so maybe I should listen to Missy instead of my mom, huh? ;)

Well, off I go. Hopefully the excitement of injuries and illness has concluded for the time being.

More soon!

First Colorado ER visit

Okay, sorry it’s been so long. Don’t even ask how long it’s been. I barely know what day it is. I’d love to give a long, detailed description of the move - and at some point over the weekend, I’ll try to. For now, it’s all about how I spent my Friday afternoon/evening at the local trauma center.

The other day I did a home test for a urinary tract infection. It came back positive. My doctor back east called me in Cipro and I started it last night. One of the things listed in the “adverse reactions” section from the pharmacy was “shortness of breath” - well, I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and realized I was having some trouble breathing. Now, mind you, we’ve been at over 5,000 feet for nearly two weeks. We slept at Denver area elevations (just over a mile where we were) for eight long nights waiting for our stuff to arrive. We did everything right when it comes to handling elevation acclimation. My husband has been mostly fine, except for the first day when he inisisted we come right to the house from Omaha (which is all of maybe 700 ft above sea level) - then he felt it rather severely. I was feeling it, too - but honestly, he was worse off than I was. And because of my obsession with mountains and mountaineers, I knew to get back down to Denver elevations ASAP - and thankfully, he listened. At any rate, my breathing has been okay, except for on the stairs where it’s somewhat worse than it was in NYC. The first few days were especially rough, and I’m still no fan of those stairs.

So, this sudden onset of shortness of breath - that didn’t feel like an asthma issue and didn’t respond to my inhaler - had me worried. I called my doctor back. She said to go to the ER. I was stunned, and couldn’t believe that was necessary, so I got in to see a local doctor. Well, she was afraid of a blood clot that had migrated to the lungs… so off to the ER we went.

Now, mind you, we’re still learning the area. Who’d have known, for example, that our closest hospital would be a 40 minute drive??? We had the dog with us… with his separation issues, the fact that the house hasn’t been organized yet and he hasn’t spent even a minute alone here meant we had little choice. I told my husband it would be hours, and that he should go back home. He refused, wanting to be near me even though because of our beloved dog, he couldn’t be with me. He waited in the car for me for almost 5 hours.

No wonder I adore the man… I get teared up just thinking about it.

Anyway, a chest x-ray, ct scan with iodine (ouch, ouch, ouch), tons of blood work and five hours later, I was cleared to go home. It got really scary because one of my tests (called a D-dimer) came back elevated which can mean a blood clot is likely. However, raised triglycerides can falsely elevate it (I learned this on the internet while I waited - they have patient centers in the rooms). Never before have I been thrilled to have high triglycerides!

So, the diagnosis? The three doctors all felt a Cipro reaction was unlikely. The ER doc said it was even okay to take it again, though I’m skeptical. He thinks it’s a combo of allergies and elevation and that it would just take time.

Anyway, that rounds off my fifth day in our new house.

But I love it… even the ER is nicer here.

Packing my computer!

For the next two weeks, I’ll have very limited computer access. I will be checking my email, but not often and I may or may not be able to write back. I will miss you all (I do already ;) )!

Cya in about two weeks!!!

One Week Left…

There’s a week to go before we move… seven days. Which means we need to be totally packed by next Wednesday night. Argh… it’s so freakin’ unbelievable.

I am in some strange state of denial, but that alternates with crying when I realize Saturday will be the last time I see my mom and Missy until December, barring some miracle that gets them to Colorado to visit us. None of this seems real. I don’t think I’ll believe it until the movers come and start carting our Jasminlive stuff off…

I’m excited, anxious and scared in about six different ways… but mostly I just want to get the move over with at this point. On the one hand, I can’t believe we’re only a week away - it seems to have gone so fast. On the other hand, it feels as though a lifetime has passed since this all first became a potential back in late February.

I said goodbye to my boss and the yesterday. He’s gotten so big… and he’s so sweet. I watched him last week and was thrilled that he still loves me. Not only that, but he was better for me than for his parents. :) Babies seem to do that… he slept like a perfect angel child for me - for them he’s been a little monster.

Anyway, it’s all just so surreal. I can’t write long - lots of packing to do.

My blog is going on a move/settling in hiatus. There’s a slim chance I’ll update from the road, but don’t count on it. Until we’ve gotten our stuff from the movers and get settled in, I’m considering myself on a blogging break. When I come back, I have some rather stuff to share. I’m just not ready to delve into it right now, with everything else going on… but suffice it to say that this blog was started nearly a year ago as a weight loss blog. That hasn’t exactly been what’s it’s ended up becoming… but I plan to make a definite return to my roots post move… while still talking about whatever, too. Like the Gilmore Girls. What was Lorelai thinking? I mean, I get that she’s stressed and unhappy… but when has Christopher ever made her happy? Besides, she’s wearing Luke’s ring still (or was when she left him). It’s just wrong! I mean, on the one hand, wouldn’t it be nice if they ended up together? Rory’s parents, all these years later? It sure will make Richard and Emily happy… but then you watch Season I episodes, and Luke is soooo in love with her… and she with him. I just think they’ve got to work it out somehow.

Oops, sorry. Slipped into a rant there about fictitious characters… but they are such wonderful characters.

The original point was, I plan to return to Weight Watchers. I’m not sure if I’m going to go to meetings right away, or join online until I am comfortable driving. I don’t think the only meeting in the town we’re moving to is going to work for me… so I might need to go a town over, and I’ve still never driven alone. One of the six things I’m scared of. Eventually, I’ll figure it out. My biggest priorities, initially, has to be getting used to be a driver… and eating right. I can’t even tell you how ugly it’s been… in part, I’m just too ashamed to go there, but it’s also just such a big thing I’m not prepared to write about it at this point. It needs more energy and time than I can devote to it now… maybe that’s wrong, but that’s reality.

So, my dear readers, this is the end of my blogging in New York City. Next time I speak to you, I’ll most likely be in Colorado, tucked away in the Rocky Mountains… but it’s also possible I’ll be at a Red Roof Inn near Omaha. Thrilling, huh?

I’m freaked out…

So with ten days left until our big move, I’m finally freaked out. It’s hit me. I suppose, if I go back and analyze, it’s been slowly hitting me for weeks. Yet, I have to say, until Saturday, when my husband said his goodbyes to my jasminelive friends - and surprisingly got choked up when it came time to say bye to my mother and Missy - I was really feeling calm. Now, not so much.

It’s not just the sudden reality that Saturday is the last time I will see my mother and sister before we move. I won’t see them again for months, likely not until Christmas. I don’t think I’ve ever gone that long without seeing Missy… if I have, it’s not since she was very, very small - I’d guess three or under. I just can’t imagine my life without her a short train trip away. I’m devastated to leave her… but not to leave. I want to go. I just want to take her with me.

I can’t even write about it anymore, because I’m on the verge of tears… another moment or two and this post will be done, because typing through tears is not a skill I’ve mastered. I probably should, given my tendency to cry easily.

I’ve been having some medical concerns I don’t think I’ve blogged about. If I have, forgive me, but I’m so scattered with the move I don’t remember which way is up. Anyway, it turns out my optic nerve is pale. For the past few months I’ve been experiencing a sudden increase in

I was worried it was a problem with my retina… but the doctor said that my retina is fine. However, she was concerned about the color of my optic nerve. Well, given the bizarre visual issues I’ve had over the past few months, so am I. However, because I originally expected to be on different insurance, I opted not to pursue any additional testing until after the move. I did, however, research what it could mean, and frankly, none of the options are appealing. I know it’s not glaucoma. The other choices seemed to be various sorts of tumors or MS. That led to me researching MS and discovering that on a list of the 12 most common symptoms, I’ve developed 9 in the past few years. Now, granted, some of these are vague and might be explained by other things. My doctor was unconvinced when I presented her with my evidence, and might have dismissed it out of hand… except for that pesky pale nerve. That is, she admitted, diagnostic evidence that can’t be ignored… and so I have tests to look forward to ASAP after the move. In the meantime, in the back of my brain during all this, is the thought that there might be something very wrong with my brain… and it’s terrifying.

Of course, it might also be nothing… but from what I was reading and my doctor’s reaction, this would be unlikely. Optic nerves just don’t generally appear pale for no good reason.

I feel like a pot that has been set to simmer and is covered… I’m bubbling up inside, and the pressure is getting to me.

Then there’s stuff with the move itself… stuff that I can recognize isn’t that major and will work out somehow, and so I’m trying to ignore it… and yet it’s not completely working. Like, for example, the fact that my in-laws and my husband’s aunt (they are a package deal now that his grandmother is gone) are insisting on being here the morning of the move. Why, I don’t understand. It is going to be absolute chaos. The dog will be totally freaked and put in the bathroom. Which would be bad enough, but hearing familiar voices will make it worse for him. I’m very concerned about his stress level already, and this just makes it that much worse.

Then there’s the emotional scene. His mother and aunt still just don’t seem to want to accept reality. I know it’s going to be ugly. I’m sure his mother will try to keep her emotions in check (since I’ll be here), and I know his aunt won’t be able to help herself - she will cry. It’s not that I don’t feel for them… I do. I know how wonderful he is. I just wish they’d accept that we’re going, stop saying negative little things and come say goodbye the afternoon or night before the move. Where the hell are five people supposed to be while the movers are here and the freaked out dog is locked in the bathroom??? The furniture will be going - so we’ll have no place to sit - and we’ll all be constantly trying to shift out of the way. It’s an excellent way to take an already stressful situation and make it worse. I keep thinking maybe the idea of driving out here at rush hour will make them reconsider… and then I do a reality check, and realize it’s impossible. They’ll be here, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

On top of everything else, I suspect they wanna see us drive off into the traffic or something like that. Well, I told my husband I want a few moments alone in our apartment. This apartment has a lot of memories… and though I’m glad to be moving, it’s still going to be sad. Like when we moved from the studio we’d lived in when we got this place… it was way too small and we were so excited about leaving the evil, scary supers - but at the same time, we fell in love in that apartment. It’s where our relationship started… well, here we got engaged (not here here, but while living here), married and both of us finished degrees while living here. We got our dog while living here… it’s going to be a bittersweet goodbye, and I don’t want that taken away from us.

Ugh. I am so dreading moving day, and I don’t even have to do any of the moving!

Then there’s my novel. Several summers ago, I wrote a novel. Part of the deal of taking the summer off was that I finish it and try to do something with it. I finished it, and once the elation of being able to say, I wrote a novel wore off, I decided it was a piece of crap that no one would want to publish. Well, something about getting my diploma and putting it in its frame, combined with the move, has me realizing that maybe I want more out my life than I thought I did. I thought what I wanted was to finish my college degree and become a mommy… and I still want to become a mommy. It’s just that suddenly, I find myself wanting to have more than just that. I’ll be a great mother. I have no doubt about that. I might be fucked up in many ways, but I am gifted with . That’s no ego - it’s fact. Maybe it’s just because of my own fucked up childhood, but I think it’s also just an innate ability to understand them. I love working with … but I don’t want it to be the only thing I can do. I feel trapped by that thought. I spent all that time in school, getting a degree in a field I absolutely love… but at the end of all the work and struggles, I am no more qualified to do any given job than I was before. Except, ironically enough, in states like Colorado and NY, I am now eligible to teach preschool aged , despite the fact that my degree is not in early childhood education.

It’s so damn frustrating. I thought I knew exactly what I wanted my future to be… and now I have this small piece of paper in a big fancy frame, and suddenly everything feels different. I want more. I am thrilled in my marriage, but I have to admit I envy my husband a little. He’s so capable. I think part of my fear is that what will I do if I lose him? Especially if I have to care for… and I keep coming back to that damn romance novel I wrote and then mentally shelved. My husband is now a CEO of a company that bears his name. How freakin’ cool is that? And I told him that I know he won’t fail… which isn’t to say the business won’t. Statistically speaking, it will - and he knows that. The point was, even if it fails, I know he won’t… and he said, he also knows he won’t.

And all I can think is, how nice would it be to think that way about myself? I’ve lived my life in such fear of failure that I don’t even try - or I stop trying when it gets hard and I get scared that I can’t keep going. Maybe that’s related to the way I grew up… I don’t know, and it doesn’t really matter. I’m a grown up now. I’m 30. It’s time to fix it, to get past it. It’s time to realize that failing to try is so much worse than trying and failing. Especially when, in so many cases, you believe deep down that you wouldn’t fail… if only you had the courage to go through with it.

I was afraid of marriage. I don’t even remember that anymore, but I was reading through my old journals from back when I first moved in with my husband. I didn’t keep them here at the time, because I wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t read them. So I wrote in them from time to time when I went back home… and then eventually he told me he wouldn’t read them, and since he’s a man of his word, I knew it was safe to bring them here. I’ve been slowly destroying them, because frankly, there’s a lot of bad stuff mixed in with the good… and if something should ever happen to me, I wouldn’t want him to read those bad things. Our first year of dating was hellish… it’s why our relationship is so strong now, but it was ugly at the time. I don’t ever want him to relive those moments through my eyes… and though I hope I’ll be able to be honest with our , it’s one thing to say, Daddy & I broke up a lot that first year and really struggled, and another thing entirely for them to read all the awful things we did and said to each other… and though those things are important in the sense that they created this rock solid foundation for our relationship, I know that in the grand scheme of things they are really so inconsequential. We love each other. A fuck of a lot. More than we were able to back then - and through all that misery, there was still a lot of love, and that’s why we made it.

Anyway… back to the original point. I was reading an old entry, from before we were engaged… something that I think would shock my husband. I was afraid of marriage. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get married. Ever. It’s so hard for me to believe that, and yet I know I must have felt it… my journals were one place where I was always honest with myself. I was just so afraid… probably of losing the person I loved, because that’s been so deeply etched onto my psyche.

I got over it, clearly… without even realizing I was getting over it. I let go and lived.

The whole ugly mess with my former friend Skye is a similar lesson… I should have walked away from that friendship some time ago. I knew she wasn’t a good friend, and hadn’t been in years. I was doing all the giving and getting very little in return. Friendship has to be a two-way give and take. If it’s all one sided, it just doesn’t work - like any relationship… but I let fear of losing one of the few friends I had keep me from just cutting my loses. In the end, I got stabbed in the back and it sucked. Sure, I was a good friend - and tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. The truth is, though, the whole time I knew Skye didn’t really deserve it. I just didn’t want to accept that because it hurt too badly to think I mattered so little to someone who’d been such a big part of my life. I know it’s her loss… but that doesn’t make it suck less to be treated like shit by someone you care about.

Anyway… with all this on my mind, I suppose it’s no wonder I’m feeling like a pot about to boil over. I’m just so overwhelmed by it all… and the reality that the move is upon us just makes everything seem so much… well, it just seems so much.

One thing I know… I want more. I want to try to find an agent for my novel. Maybe it won’t work. Maybe I need to write a different novel… but it’s one thing I know I can do, so what am I waiting for?

2 weeks to go!

I can’t believe how fast this has gone. My hub’s very frustrated right now… the furniture for his office is going to be delayed, his lawyers are totally trying to screw him over… it just sucks. We should be able to enjoy this, but oh, well. It’s happening and it will work itself out somehow. I just feel so badly. He’s waited for so long - longer than I have - to move… and now it’s upon us, and all the stress is making us (especially him, as he has a lot more to worry about/deal with) crazy.

So, I try to be as supportive as possible and go with the flow. Moving is never fun, no matter how much you want it to happen… and a major move like this is full of all sorts of extra baggage. For instance, his mother and aunt still refuse to accept that it’s happening, and apparently, every time he calls and one of them answers and hands the phone off to the other, it’s like, “oh, he’s still leaving…”

WTF??? Yes! We are STILL leaving! Geesh… we signed the freakin’ lease people. It’s been a done deal for a couple of months already… and it’s not like this was an unexpected move. He’s been saying for seven years he wanted to move out West. They just never believe him when he says he’s going to do something, which is stupid - because there’s no one truer to his word than my husband, and you’d think by now they’d have figured that out.

Just like our wedding. He said for years he was going to have it be just him and his bride - no guests. They never believed it, and his mother went into such denial there were people at his grandmother’s funeral who had NO idea he was married - after TWO freakin’ years… and not just any people. Family members! Cousins who they have certainly seen and/or spoken to in the past two years. It’s absurd.

I am already dreading Mother’s Day. His father, the moderating influence between the two, and the only reason he’s kept her in his life, will be away… given that it’s mere days before the move, I am afraid of what might happen. It has the potential to get really ugly. Hopefully, it won’t… but I know my mother-in-law pretty well at this point. She’s selfish and manipulative. It’s a difficult position to take, because she’s such a good actress most of the time… she rarely lets the evil side out these days, but it’s still there. I don’t care how many nice gifts you give me - I will appreciate them and be grateful, but my loyalty and trust cannot be bought. My parents figured that out, and eventually she likely will, too.

Hopefully, this isn’t something my husband’s even thinking of now, but if the next week and a half is as stressful as this past week… well, fireworks are very possible. She hasn’t helped the situation any with her negative little comments (she actually made him promise to leave Colorado when he hates it there - not if, mind you, but when), and I know his patience is wearing thin. We could all be about to go to Italy now - and she could spend his 30th birthday with him there… but she opted not to go at all, so if she wants to be angry with someone, she should be mad at herself…

Anyway, this wasn’t originally going to be a MIL vent. I’m not even sure where that came from…

I have to take my Pup to the vet now. He needs a booster shot and some heartworm meds. Oh, and some tranquilizers, for the road - just in case. I plan to use Benedryl, but if he’s really freaked out, it will be nice to have something stronger. Wish us luck - he hates it there! Well, it’s the last visit anyway!