Category Archives: General

Poor Stephanie

Poor Stephanie

She’s 14, she was a stray. She’s a sweet little cat. Unfortunately, we’ll have her for only a little longer. A little limp turned into a big limp, and her right hind leg swelled up suddenly. It’s a fast-moving sarcoma, and there’s nothing we can do besides keep her as happy and comfortable as we can until it’s time to take her in to the vet for the last time. She’s very happy that her medicine is mixed in with canned food, a particular treat for her. It’ll reduce the swelling and inflammation, and relieve the pain. Poor pussycat.

I’m Trying Adderal.

I’m Trying Adderal.

My doctor was reluctant to put me on it (it would refute his diagnosis of depression mimicking the symptoms of ADD) but my therapist, who knows about these things, insisted it would help. So this is day three.

Day one, I drove up to have an afternoon with Gayle and Janet. Now, we’ve been friends since 1978, so we always have a good time, and talk more than anyone else could stand. I wasn’t sure I was feeling any effect, except that while I was driving, my eye movements were faster and more precise. I am always checking all three mirrors, looking out the side windows, and back out front, trying to stay on top of what’s happening around me. Normally, my gaze kind of pans from one place to another. As the medicine kicked in, my ability to glance away from the front and back again got much more snappy. The second thing, I noticed in retrospect. When the three of us talk, the subject changes frequently – we’re very stream-of-consciousness – and sometimes we’ll interrupt or talk over each other. Just the way it is, but my ability and method of going with this has been different depending on what my brain is being treated on (or not). Paxil initially gave me a patience to sit back and listen, but as it wore off I found myself resentful that I couldn’t keep up – I was slowed down, and thought of something to say well after the subject had changed. When I went off it, all that pent-up stuff made me chatter, and I’m sure that I talked too much and interrupted too often. However, when the depression returned, heck, I just didn’t want to talk at all. I started Cymbalta, which has worked very, very well, it was pretty easy to get back into the swing of things, but I was still having trouble with coming up with something to say well after it was appropriate, and getting very frustrated. This time, though, not only was I thinking thoughts and saying things that were germane to the topic at hand, but if we moved on, the thoughts I hadn’t said stayed there. . .and if it became appropriate to say them at a later time, I remembered them then. . .and if it never came up later, I was able to put them aside and not get frustrated that I wouldn’t be able to say what I was thinking before it disappeared forever. I don’t know if I’ve ever experienced that in my lifetime. It’s always been a race to say what I’m thinking before what I’m thinking gets buried under all the other million thoughts that pile up every moment. The only bad thing was that about 11 hours after I took the Adderal, I started to feel a burning sensation on my lip that slowly increased, then suddenly spread very quickly down my neck, chest, and upper back. I could feel some panic, but rather than succumbing, I checked the net for interactions and side effects and found nothing I should worry about. The next day I checked on some forums for ADD and found that it’s actually pretty common the first time you use Adderal.

Day two I was hit with euphoria and tons of energy. This is remarkably good, because normally I’m exhausted, too tired to do anything, and then I can’t sleep at night because I didn’t do the things I wanted to do and I ruminate. I started cleaning the house and found myself catching up with some tasks I’d put off because I was afraid I’d start them, get to a point where they were a worse mess than before, and lose heart. I sang while I worked. It’s been so long since I’ve sung out loud, the dog got nervous. Really, it freaked her out. By the time the medication started to wear off, again about 11 hours, I was tired but not exhausted (even though I was sore from so much unaccustomed activity) and my mood, while not euphoric, was good – I had gotten so much done, and the house looked so nice and uncluttered. I didn’t get the burning sensation or any feeling of panic, but I still had some trouble falling asleep. I didn’t feel anxious about the sleep, though, and looked forward to day three.

Today is day three. My mood is good, but not as extreme as yesterday. A little tired, partly from being so busybusybusy, and partly from lack of sleep. However, again I dove into my to-do list, not fearing running out of steam, but looking forward to getting these stupid, nagging little things out of the way. I drove the kids to school, dropped the van off for service, and actually remembered the mileage and the parking space number (although I did forget my cell phone to call hubby for a ride. Can’t have everything.) Carolyn had asked me to bake three kinds of cookies. Last night I told her that was a pretty tall order, but today, I did it, and frankly, I’m amazed. Normally, the kitchen is a mess, I’ve used just about every measuring implement, and something got overbaked when I left the room and started doing something else, or forgot to set the timer. Today. . .holy cow. I started baking one batch. I set the timer for the first sheet, put the second sheet together, set another timer for that, hand washed everything. Noticed for the first time in the dozen or so years I’ve owned them, my cookie scoops have size numbers. Took out the first sheet, timed it to sit for one minute, realized for the first time in my life (honest to goodness, don’t laugh at me please) that you can gently place your finger on the cookie and get the spatula all the way under it instead of having it break in half or smoosh the cookie you push it against. While I was waiting for the second sheet, I mixed the next batch of cookies, using the same measuring cups and spoons, mixing bowl and beater – because I’d washed them. OMG. While it was mixing, got the second sheet cleared, remembered to use a potholder, and wiped the bottom cookie sheet and put on the second batch. Put it in, wiped the second sheet and put the cookies on, cleaned up during baking, put the cooled cookies in a container. . .you get the picture. I also realized (again for the first time) that if I actually used the scoop to scoop out just that much instead of overfilling, and scraping off the extra dough on the outside, the cookies all come out the same size. This may seem elementary – obviously, you buy a cookie scoop so you can get uniformly sized cookies, right? For me, though, I always was just scooping and dropping without thought, and wondering why the cookies were all different sizes. As well, I realized that if I put the cookies on the sheets using my flat cooktop, and putting them on the cooling rack on the counter (instead of spreading out all over the counter and having no space) it went smoothly and was easier to clean up. I’m sure that most people will read all this and think, “Well, duh,” but the issue for me has always been lack of attention and easy distraction. Whatever space I can find before the cookies burn. Fudging measurements because I didn’t use cups for dry ingredients before wet. Losing track of time, forgetting I was baking. When I was done, the kitchen was still clean. I remembered to switch loads of laundry, vacuumed the rugs >before< mixing up the solution to wash the floor, cleaned the part of the other floor where I'd put the rugs while I was washing in the kitchen >before< walking in holding a bunch of folded-up rugs. . .and again, I've been tackling the little tasks that pile up and eventually make big messes. Of course, in all this, not only was I all caught up in the joy of accomplishment, but the Adderal decreases hunger - hubby just now came in and told me that it was too late to go out to lunch together as we'd planned. Well, it can't all be perfect.

Oh, the Beautifulness!

Oh, the Beautifulness!

It’s become an absolutely gorgeous day. I took pooch out, and she got to play with lots of other dogs, and I did a few things around the yard. Not too many, because I’m still pretty tired, but at least nobody has to worry about stepping in anything. It’s the kind of day that makes you think of garden catalogues and nurseries and getting your hands dirty.

I do have something of a plan. In the backyard, I’m planting honeysuckle, ferns, and some hostas and fragrant lilies along the fence, and a few more things around the pond. My aim is to create not only privacy, but something of a living odor-eater to put between us and our backyard neighbor’s dog potty. I have to finish moving the logs (our tree guy will come back at some point to split and stack them, but they should be out of the way anyhow) and get mulch onto the rest of the backyard. In front, I need a few more trees near the front edge, plus some shrubs that I might move away from the foundation to there, and some shade-loving plants for ground cover. It’s a good thing that plants mostly tolerate being dug up and moved pretty well. I’ve never been particularly good at planning in advance. Everything I do depends on how well the last thing came out. If it worked, I’m set for the next thing. If it didn’t, I improvise something else. It does mean extra time and effort, but if I think things all the way through, they’re too big/difficult/expensive/prone to ultimate failure to even bother starting. So I’ll get a few things, plant them, move them or keep them as the garden takes form, and go only as far as money and energy take me each year and not worry about it. And I’ll take pictures.