Snow is finally here!

We have been told every day we would get pummeled with tons of snow... but until this morning we had nothing.  It has been snowing since the wee hours and is lovely!  I will post pics as soon as I bundle up to go out and take some, however I got a kick out of this video (sans the Tijuana brass band soundtrack).  Here in the NW we kinda have a reputation of sucky snow driving.  (For full disclosure, this is on a hill).   Where most drivers fail is they drive the same in snow, as they do in rain or sun.  That means quick starts, quick stops, and if something worries them (snow on hill!) they go a slow and uneven speed, or sometimes stop. On a hill. With ice. With traffic, In the lane of traffic.  Which basically means they can't get up a hill.  It is all unimportant however... because we are going sledding!!!!!!

I wish a Javier for all of you...

Pic: My chicken coop- before it got the face and foundation lift--and before it got a new fence. 

My coop. My sad lovely little chicken coop.  Made from milled on-site lumber... a 2x4 is really 2" by 4".  Javier said it would be cheaper to fix this one than build anew.  And now, looking at what he has done... I agree.  If Javier ever retires, I am going to sell my house, since I will not be able to do all the funky maintenance that it seems to require!  I am just kidding, but truthfully, to find an honest, reliable, no BS, tells you when he doesn't know something, inexpensive handyman is a dream.  Can you believe someone used to live it this little house?  It's foundation is a thin rim of bricks that are shattered and broken, the wood floor (still solid) now resting on dirt. The windows are haphazardly cut through rotten siding, and three of the four corner posts are not touching the ground because they are rotten.  Fun, huh? 

Bathroom challenges

Bathtub replacement.. in thinking stage. As in, we need to figure out how to do it right.

A tight fit.

Crawl space work. Looks fun, no? This is an incomplete shot of the "as is" plumbing in the side attic.  Steve the plumber questioned whether the knob and tube wiring he found running next to and on this mess was live. Good lord I hope not. That is not on my to-do list! 

Plumbing detail we have to move.  Steve is going to move the whole works and make it accessible to the crawl space, so if there is a problem, we don't have to tear out our bathtub surround.  

Our new tub is exactly replacing our old one, albeit with the faucet on the other side.  See that wood lip on the left side...part of the tub frame ?  I did not want the drop in tub look with the marble or tile rim, I wanted a smooth non-fussy look on the side.  But I have to have a little lip, so need to find some sort of tile that will cover that, and look good on the exterior edge. There are lots of thin tiles, but they are usually not finished on the side.  In the back of my mind I am also concerned about weight on a non-reinforced floor. But hey, they put in a tub for 20 years that didn't go through the ceiling, why would mine? 

Back in the home repair saddle - upstairs bathroom

Picture: A very undone bathroom.  I have not figured out the configuration of the upstairs in its early days...this bathroom was added in the 80's, somewhat haphazardly. The venting is 'creative' and the plumbing serpentine and octopus-like. The tub goes in the unpainted floor area.  We added the wall to hold the tile. 

Should probably be getting into the real horse saddle because the horses are turning to jello... but all in good time. 
Javier, my reliable home repair fellow, just sent a text that he has time to work on my house.  He takes the ferry from Seattle, because I have yet found a truly trustworthy guy in Kitsap to do my dirty  handy work around the place so import my ol' reliable person.  He fits me in his schedule, since I always have things for him to do, and it seems he has time this week.   I am very sure there are competent people over here, I just have not found that "can do anything" fellow like Javier.
That means today I was running around changing my mind about tile for the bathroom, and how exactly to set the tub upstairs.  I need to focus and finish for good grief sake.
 I also have a well house with a failing roof, a chicken coop that is leaning, a garage that needs some lovin' (I just noticed the whole thing is tilting... the neighbor says we could straighten it out "in two weekends"), siding replacement/repair and the usual stupid house baseboards that need attaching.  There also seem to be random holes in places.  Oh, and painting.  Lots of painting.
But first... the bathroom.

Books and Authors

I have been to a bunch of book readings over the years.  I would get all excited when it was someone I would really like... but one thing I noticed is that frequently they were NOTHING LIKE their book personality.  Based on how they write I would assume they would be a certain way --since I enjoyed the tone of their books.  Ha.  Nope. I actually stopped going to readings because it would ruin the books for me.  Remember Robert Fulghum?  Everything I Needed to Know I Learned In Kindergarten?  It Was On Fire When I Lay Down On It?  There was one story of his that had me snorting coffee out of my nose, so inspired by his humor I went to a reading. You know what he did?  He looked up from his book signing and had a conversation with my chest.  Eyes on the front of my shirt. (It should be noted I don't particularly wear tight or low clothing, and there was nothing written on my chest.) You know this man was a church leader of some sort?  That simple gesture on his part ruined his stories for me, which is so stupid, because he is the same person who wrote the stories.  I guess I just didn't think a 60+ man who writes funny stories would be such a dog.  That is my unrealistic expectations coming up against reality.  And I am sure he is a very nice grandfather... just with a bit of traditional sexism thrown in. 

Or when I went to a lecture by author Sue Hubbell.  A Country Year: this was my favorite book for many years.  Turns out she was a bit of a pretentious look-down-your- nose academic. The stories I thought were charming, were actually her barely tolerating the characters in her community, usually the ones with less, either money or education.  I described her as 'east coast", but I mean no offense to my east coast readers, it is just that she had an internalized class system which she talked as if she was above most other community members by sheer virtue of education.  This was when I was younger, and I thought the whole U.S. was like the Pacific NW... egalitarian, fiercely independent, book lovin' (that could have something to do with my mom being a librarian, I think I got a bit skewed in my perception.)   Excruciatingly naive on my part, I know. 
I have always been susceptible to moral judgements on people.  Good, bad, right, wrong. Major character flaw on my part.   There is music I won't listen to because a band member was accused of rape, or walked out on a wife and kids.
For the record, there has also been authors that impressed me way beyond their books.  Ursula K. LeGuin  filled a giant music hall with people, and she was worth it. Sherman Alexie is astounding. Quick witted, hilarious, bluntly direct.
This whole rant is leading somewhere.
1.  I have been cleaning out my books and clothes.  My aunt just sent me Smokin' Seventeen by Janet Evanovich.  It is a quick read, light entertainment, and ready for a new home.  Send me an email  that you want it and it is yours.  This is not a contest, basically the first person I hear from gets it. Even though I just ranted my head off about him, I also have two Robert Fulghum's.  He is gently funny... they are books representing a time. Send an email, I will drop one in the mail to you.
2. I always remember the above lessons about authors when reading blogs.  We blog writers may be totally different in person than represented by the written word.  My naval-gazing, every-little-thing, little view of the world is not something I talk about when you meet me. I have met a local blogger that is pretty widely read and she is nothing like her perky effervescent blog.  Blogs for some are marketing devices to make money, and they are marketing themselves.  For the record, I am so obviously not in it for the money.  You have to have non-offensive, non-opinionated, perky postings for that.  Some days I am just too damn cranky.

Easy Surgery

Friday I went in and out of the hospital for my tumor killin' event.  I was giddy before the procedure and giddy after, although the after was probably affected by all the drugs they were shooting in my IV.
The doctors said the after effects of my gamma ray treatment would be exhaustion, and my experience with exhaustion after a brain trauma is of course, the way I felt after the stroke.  Dang tired. Bone numbing exhaustion.  So I thought this would be like that without the body idiosyncracies, balance issues, and weakness. This is nothing like that-- I feel pretty normal with no exhaustion.  The only residual effect is a botox looking forhead from the local anaesthesia they used to attached the pins in my cranium.  The grossest part according to my friend who took me and actually watched.
I am now in a suite hotel with three tv's and a kitchen, king size bed, watching cable tv (a big deal since we don't have tv at my house, we watch everything on hulu) getting spoiled by friends.

In a year with a stroke and tumor, I feel very, very lucky.  That I seem to be coming out of these physical traumas relatively unscathed.  Sometimes you look for a explanations, reasons, a cause,  to understand.  But I am realizing sometimes there are none, this is just the way our lives can roll.  You can reach toward faith, family, religion to try to make you feel in control, like there is a reason or a master plan why funky stuff happens.  Whatever works for a person and makes them able to handle their fears and anxiety is a wonderful road to head down.  I headed down many avenues to find answers and I can't say there was any one solution for me.  But I learned a lot.

Funny during the season of family and friends I am bluntly reminded about what is important. I know this will make me a better friend, since I am seeing the best side of my loved ones.  I hope I never have to reciprocate what they have done, but at least now I know how to do it with grace and selflessness.  Maybe my blog is aptly named.

Buick - The new non-white car in our yard

Picture: Nighttime shot of the new old car.  Technically a pretty crappy shot, but you get the idea.

So after weeks of sporadic searching, I found my car.  Let's revisit my car goals.  I wanted a car as good as my minivan, with less than it's 150K. The parameters were pretty open for a variety of cars to fit.  Oh, and cheap.  I was looking at Mercedes (didn't like the repair costs and that it is recommended to take it to a german oriented repair shop which was an hour away from my house), Lexus, Honda and Toyota (in the NW, I don't know about where you live, but people love these cars and still charge alot for a car with 100K) and lastly, Buicks.  I ended up with a decked out Buick with 44K for $7500. I have bells and whistles on this car that seem a little over the top for a mid-level car (heated seats, seat memory, two tone leather, on and on).  My intent was to get a good transportation car with better gas mileage than the minivan, with money left over for a big trip with the kids.  It does not blend with the white truck, minivan, and horse trailer, but I can deal.
I got it!

Wilder's room - before and after

  OK so technically I am not totally done in this room as is evidenced by the tools still laying about... and the holes in the floor on the right (not by me, courtesy of the previous owners thorough need to drill holes through the walls and floor preferably in the middle of the room).  I am including before and after shots-- these simple things are richly satisfying to complete.  I have been working on the bathroom at the same time with help from the my amazing handyman Javier.  Photos to come... 

Before - You can see the vibrant green around the edges that used to be. There is a mystery cut-out to the left, and crawl  space access to the right.  The floor in this room was the original unfinished fir, which had always been covered.  I ended up painting it due to the condition and that it is my only layer of flooring for the upstairs.  I didn't want to sand and diminish it anymore than it already was.

Before - No base molding, unfinished wood.  This is when I was trying to figure out what color to paint... I am not such a decisive colorist!  I probably had seven colors on this wall to confuse me. 

Wilder's favorite color is green, and yes, it is a small room.  The desk on the left is to come out, I just need serious muscle to do it, so am waiting for all my friends menfolk to be around at the same time!

Christmas happenings

So it has been a whirlwind of activity around here. I am having gamma knife surgery to "kill" the tumor on the 16th of December, consequently feel the need to get everything done for Christmas before then. Plus, possibly buy that new (used) car I am looking for, and have Javier finish the upstairs bathroom, and take just about my whole closet of clothes to consignment or give away to friends, and finish Wilder's new room (so close!) and... remain calm.
Things I have learned and general updates:
1. How to knit. Technically, I knew this when I was a kid from my mom but Geri and I thought it would help my dexterity to do it again. She does amazing socks, that is my goal.
2. That my Ace hardware rocks. I was looking at tarps to cover my ever expanding manure piles (horses are full of poop) at Ace. They were $40 each. Yipes. One of the regulars stopped and ask what project I was working on (they all know my endless parade of house to-dos) and I told him I needed to cover my manure. He told me about his lumber tarps for FREE in the back and I was welcome to them. Deal of the century.
3. Did I tell you all three of my garage doors quit at the same time? Broken. One was gone when I bought the place, but really all three gone? Add to the to-do!
3. I moved all my stroke/tumor life over to a new blog http://mymorbidhead.blogspot.com/.. A Year of Living in my Head.

Fall on the farm

And to think I was going to chop this glowing red tree down... it gets a reprieve due to its brilliant fall color. When it gets to size, it is going to be similar to the monster looming over my house on the opposite side.
Do you love fall, too? The light gets that long angle that filters things differently... sometimes I just have to stop somewhere and look at the loveliness - it is only here for a short time before cold descends.

Meet only person who has ever hollered YAY about a head tumor

A week ago Rose had her first debate competition. I was a judge. It was crammed full of high schoolers from Washington, noisy, action-packed. I was there 12 hours and after two hours could not be in the building without sunglasses. It is as if my brain was screaming, and when I put sunglasses on it quieted down. Other judges non-stop conversations put me on edge also.
I went out to the car, and silence, a couple times to maintain. Sunday, I got bouts of vertigo. That was one of the symptoms of my pre-stroke so I was concerned. My usual behavior (pre-stroke) was to push onward, but on Sunday night I knew to take symptoms seriously and go to the hospital. I waited until I dropped off the kids at school on Monday and hopped on a ferry to my neurologists hospital. (Sidebar: If there was a true emergency, I would call 911. But not without alot of reservations. Last time I called was for a different stroke symptom (my low low bloodpressure skyrocketed to 200/120), they did an EKG in my driveway, the first thing they said to me was "Have I been drinking" and the fellow ACTUALLY BLUSHED when he had to put on the sticky heart things when I lifted my shirt. I think your medical professionals should have enough experience to know they are there to do a job, not get a date. They also said that the hospital would not do anything... I've been there, and agree.) Back to my Seattle hospital...
At my docs hospital I was whizzed through blood tests, x-rays and MRI in less than an hour. My neurologist was immediately contacted.
After a while, the emergency room doctor came in and said "I think we know why you are dizzy, you have a brain tumor." I kid you not, I yelled YAY! Because a tumor I (think) I can deal with. It is finite, there is a beginning and an end to it, and protocol of how to handle it. The stroke already has me dealing with updating my will and the unpredictability of life. I have no fear left for the tumor... I think it's been all used up on the stroke.
The tumor gives a valid reason I am having these stroke-like symptoms. It also shows the doctors I am not making this shit up. I don't know how patients can deal... with PT's, doctors, that hear symptom after symptom which is repetitive for them and normal... but first timer patients are traumatized . I have been on tenterhooks since having a stroke in July. Since this is the first time in my life my bevy of doctors did not look me in the eye and say "You will be fine," I take that to mean (note my usual exaggeration) "You are one step away from the grave." At no time in my zero to age 46 medical visits has a doctor not said I will be fine, now they cannot, because they don't know. The stroke has put a wrinkle in my long term lifespan, my projected end date has just moved closer according to insurance statistics. I don't like that, but as every single solitary person on this planet will face the same thing at some point, it is not something I can argue with. I am learning to look at things differently... a paradigm shift of sorts.
For the record, it is not in my brain, but in my head.... a common tumor, slow growing, usually benign, not the type to move into the lymphatic system. I will have to do something, either take it out or gamma knife it. I was somewhat overwhelmed with stroke knowledge... since I know nothing about them, now I am in a whole new territory. Ah well, at least I like learning new things.

Picture sharing...

The problem with me not finding my camera for a while is that then I share a mish-mash of unrelated photos with you. But then again, I am not sure I always relate the photos to what I am jabbering about.
It was Halloween, remember? The first Halloween I have not carved a pumpkin. I still have next year. We went to a corn maze in Snohomish... acres and acres in the shape of Washington (our state) with the walkways being all the highways and byways. Here is a aerial pic of it. I did not do it this year, but sat and people watched while the kids blazed through it. This pic shows the NW corner of our "state" that funny white thing in the background is the Peace Arch connecting us to Canada. The real one is more substantial, but not necessary bigger. I have a tale from this maze here. BTW,I don't know any of these people hanging around with the scarecrow, even if they kinda look like they are posing.
Below are not my cats. But they could be....
Every year at this maze they have a petting farm. Which includes the most popular farm creature, kittens. You can sign up to adopt them at the end of their 'season of loving'. I bet they are great cats because they are soooo socialized.
Lastly, here is the reason I want to learn to knit. This is a scarf a friend gave me inspired by a book. She got a how-to book that has you knit creations that are each based on a work of fiction. A genius idea. I can't remember why it is related to the book something about there are 29 steps in the book and on the scarf -- it is amazing due to her incredibly even knitting and its gently curling shape when you wear it. I love knowing knitters, because they are always knitting and giving away their results. Socks, scarves, gloves, bags, a sweater. Love it.
I have been quiet on the stroke-front. I have had some changes and some news, but honestly want to ignore I had a stroke (HA) and just be my normal awkward responsible quirky tall kind judgemental perfectionistic cranky laid-back open-minded self. I am tired of such a heightened awareness of the possibility of loss. And the fact that part of my brain is dead and liquifying as this blog is typed. (Sorry, I get macabre)
On the bright side, (there always is one, always, always) I think my blog is even more aptly named. Because as my doctors tell me in very serious voices, I am lucky. It is a lucky day. Or at least it was on July 27th. Technically, not having a stroke on July 27th would have been luckier, but we can't pick and choose our graces. Blessed Be and God Bless.

Painting project - Wilder's room

Our house has three rooms and a forced bathroom upstairs. I say forced because it was definitely added late... like in the 90's late.... and a creative mess of plumbed octopus arms supply water and drainage. Next to the bathroom at the very top of the stairs is a room that we have never used. The night I took possession of the house we yanked all the carpets and threw them out the window. There was so much wicked stuff in those carpets it sent my daughter into one whopping asthma attack and was our first foray into Kitsap emergency services and their strengths, or more apparent, weaknesses. But, as usual, I digress.
So this room. It had the carpet pulled, and then it sat. For three years. It became a dumping zone for all things extra. Or, if I had clutter about the house and people coming over I just put it in a bag, opened the room door, set the bag down and closed the door. (Should I be telling this story showcasing my ineptness at project completion or clutter control?) Wilder's current room is next to Rose's, but you have to walk through his to get to hers. I figured he needed his own privacy, so began to tackle the nightmare I made in the room at the top of the stairs.
How To Finish A Room:
1. Luckily, I have friends with mad organization skills and first we cleaned it out.
2. The floor was the original unfinished wood, which I am painting. (After much soul searching about refinishing vs. painting. The rest of the rooms upstairs are painted wood flooring so I might as well be consistent.)
3. As usual, the previously done finish work is uneven and haphazard... like there is base molding ON THE CEILING but none on the floor. I am going to put molding where it normally goes. Radical, I know.
4. My other friend Tina told me I needed to paint it. I argued, which is my way, it was a somewhat retroish teal green- very sixties farmhouse. She worked me hard, and I ended up repainting it. I am so glad she argued back. It took a week to pick the color, a radical manly yellowish green... which once it was on the wall immediately turned a bland neutral "off-white." I have mini (really really mini) photos on a blog page I will link to. To see the vibrant green the room used to be click here...
5. To do the finish molding.. I bought a new toy, which somewhat terrifies me. And got a 30 minute tutorial from Dan at Lowe's. It has been so long since I haven't been helped by a kid 25 years my junior at those stores that I really appreciated his words of "how not to lose a finger." I don't even know what it is called, but it will cut things quickly at an angle. I included a photo. I am a tool chicken. (But not afraid to learn! Ok, technically I am scared, but not enough to stop me from cranking that big puppy on and slicing me some base moulding...)

Some eating projects...

Rat cookies, calamari and one delectable strawberry thingie, these are some of the goodies my kids have been eating. Okay, the calamari freaked them out a bit. The last pic is me and Rose... me with my new haircut that chopped between 6-12"" off my hair. Tomorrow: some updates on home projects. (I finally found my camera again!)

The crazy thing I have been doing

I drive a minivan. A white, bland, reliable workhorse of a car that can carry bales of hay, bathroom vanities, saddles, kids, dogs and one day a cat that sneaked in. I bought it with 13k miles on it and was hoping to see it through to 200,000. I am at 147K and it is making a funny noises, which I already paid $1400 to the repair shop to fix. And it's going through oil a bit faster than it should.
So somehow I got to looking at used cars for sale online. I don't want to spend alot of money on this so am looking at older vehicles. Us Northwesterns have a penchant for the Subaru/Honda/Toyotas... so consequently they are hard to find a good deal on. Here is where you come in. I need your help. These cars are all the same price(or I can get them down to the same price)... which would you get?


2005 Honda Accord, 100K miles, one owner all the maintenance records.


1999 Mercedes, 40K miles, one owner. Literally owned by a little old lady, she and her sister drove around with me. Lila can't drive it anymore, she has the beginning of dementia. Super sweet ladies, the cleanest car ever, but Mercedes are $$$ to repair if things go wrong.


2002 Buick LeSabre, 50K, one owner. Cushy. Reliable.
Something I notice a bit hinky is all the cars are silver. Hmmmm. One thing I should add is a friend said I would have to dye my hair blond and get a bob cut if I bought the mercedes... she thinks I would be snobby. I told her... HAVE YOU SEEN MY CARS? I think to live with me the mercedes would be "well-loved" and have the fresh scent of dirt and dog. Just driving on my property puts mud in the car, so we can't put on too many airs. Hey just because it is a mercedes, doesn't mean it won't be hauling hay! I like the Buick because it is nondescript and reliable.
And yes, I am still working on Wilder's room and the upstairs bathroom....

An Unorganized Mind

This may be one of those things I try to blame on the stroke, but truly, I have always been this way. I have things to do. They swirl around in my mind in no particular order of importance... picking up storage shelving and toilet paper is right next to come up with a study plan for Wilder for French and visit colleges with Rose and replace my leaking house window and trimming my fingernails. When I was younger I think I loaded up with coffee and rapidly spooled through the list and got things done. I cannot operate like that anymore. Is it a blessing or a curse that all my friends have a organization gene I am missing? I have started making some beautiful lists. It is the only way I can operate. I think my house is a great assistance to healing. As in, "I can't keel over dead from a stroke, I still haven't attached the front door spring and no one knows where it is" or "the locks for the horse trailer stalls are downstairs in the paint bucket, no one would find that". Ah yes, the little details that keep me going. I am queuing up finishing the upstairs bathroom and Wilder's room... that is definitely keeping me lively. I still negotiate daily with fear (an uncommon feeling for me) anxiety (the uncontrollable consequence of facing mortality) and resigning myself to a life with drugs (statins, blood pressure, aspirin) I am not a person that is fond of pharmaceutical solutions. But I guess if it helps keep me clot-free, I will resign myself and participate.
OH, and if any of you need a soaking tub, I am giving it away for free on Craigslist!

Updating the to-do list 2011

I dug out my old to-do list, which "dug out" is relative considering it is located on my computer in Microsoft One-note. Looking it over I am always surprised about what I get done. See, I think us old house owners don't remember all the stuff we DO do, since there are always new projects in front of us clamoring for attention. Like my house siding is all of a sudden looking very sad. Like literally it is popping and cracking where just three months ago it was fine.
So on the 2012 to-do list it goes.
This is a moment to recognize that which has been accomplished.
1. Rebuilt complete horse fencing. Hired labor for post digging and fence pulling.
2. Finished downstairs bathroom. Hired, fired, hired labor for plumbing and electrical. (I really need to put pics up of the bathroom, it took me two years)
3. Built raised garden beds. My regular garden is too far away (the end of my property) so I built beds from composite wood next to my kitchen.
4. Painted one side of the barn. I paint one side a year, don't ask.
5 Demossed roof. Hired men who dressed in mountain climbing apparatus and scaled my steep roof to get the goo off.
6. Completed a major trim of wayward bushes. Laurel, snowball bush, quince, apple trees, they were all getting crazy and out of control. Hired someone to trim the 100 year old trees, I did the bushes standing in the bed of my truck (for height) with electric trimmers.
7. Planted several gardens - flower, vegetable and bee.
8. Dreamed about building a porch.
9. Dreamed about finishing the loft and one car area of my three car garage.
10. Bought the kids dad a car, his money my skills. (I love negotiating for cars , so friends and family have me buy their cars.)
11. Cleaned horse trailer. Alot harder than it sounds.
12. Bought pressure cooker. Canned jam. Processed 20 pounds of tomatoes.
13. Pulled carpet out of Wilder's soon to be room and painted floor.
14. Painted various rooms.
15. Repaired barn from bully horses and laid yards and yards of gravel on my road and in outside the horse barn to hinder the mud.
16. Since moving in three years ago I have replaced the stove, furnace, kitchen sink, one bathroom and in process on the second, fencing, some windows, and tore out all the wall to wall carpeting.

The Wonders of Craigslist - House History Found

Pictures: Top, the Blue Shoe Farm's property at the turn of the 20th century. Mid: Bernice thought this was my home... I am not so sure. Bottom: Property today. The drippy tree is an old old birch.

The last couple weeks I have been craigslisting my extra apples. Hundreds of apples from two hundred year old trees. I had Guy and his 80+ mom Bernice come over for some apples, told me what kind they were (Kings and Transparents) and Bernice asked if I lived in the Paulson house. I affirmed I did, and she said she has lived in the brothers 1903 house since 1930 and that our two properties were (originally) next to each other. Now there is a gravel pit, highway, housing development and industrial area between us. My property stayed fairly intact due to another family buying it and running a dairy, until large scale farming left our county in the 1980's. The dairy had a hard time when zoning changes came in, and when they sold a developer bought it and chopped up the land. I love these random unexpected stories about my house! Another craigslist genius moment.

Having a Stroke Part 2 - To the hospital

A teenager with standard issue smalltown eye makeup, a mom with no makeup and a 11-year old with a big smile!
At this point none of us are calling this a stroke. We are driving down the road, and Wilder starts calling people. Some of these memories are loosely running around in my head and I don't have the tightest grip on them. Like where did he get the wherewithall to call friends and family? Once he dialed my friend Lisa, and she determined he was not kidding she told him to hang up and dial 9-1-1. 9-1-1 had Rose pull the car over to the side of the freeway while the operator kept Wilder talking. I was awake and alert enough to worry when the aid car and firetruck pulled up... the firetruck blocking the right lane of traffic around a bend in the freeway... that it was not parked in the safest spot. We left the car, and the kids and I got in the aid car. I don't know if it was good or bad but my kids being there kept me from being drawn into the quiet of my brain. There was something powerful wanting me to tune out --no anxiety, no fear. But strongly present was what my kids were seeing, and feeling, and their fear. That is why I stayed present, to allay their concern, to show that mom was okay. On to the hospital emergency where they laid me out, asked me my name, birthday, where I was. The stroke symptoms were coming and going, I lost left side function five or six times that morning. Various medical personnel threw out opinions why I was having them from the aid car personnel to nurses, and all suggested stroke like symptoms due to.... ready? Oh yes my favorite : perimenopause. I was taken downstairs for an MRI. I remember it was a sad room in need of paint, and a portly man sat in a windowless room watching. I had to take off my jewelry, and it took FOREVER to get off earrings and a pendant. My hand was not able to negotiate the clasp or earring backs, it was present and working, but would not navigate the job. I only knew this because I could not take them off, my brain was under the impression that my hand was doing just fine. This is one of the strangest cognitive changes... my mind thinks everything is operating as it should when it is not. Also, why the hell didn't I have help? The orderly who rolled me down to MRI was gone.
Into the machine, which was a trip in my current state. I actually thought the different noises were a type of music so it would not be boring for the patient. When I had another MRI a week later I realized the loud blasts of sound were definitely not music. Just shows that the brain has an amazing ability to compensate, cope and justify. The MRI was done, I was wheeled back upstairs and Lisa and her kids had arrived from Seattle. Our sons are the same age so they went off to get food. The kids dad arrived soon after from a different ferry. My mom was notified in Michigan, and she got the nurse on the phone to make sure they knew that I "drank alot of coffee." We got several days of humor out of that one, thanks Ma! A doctor came in the room and had me spell world backwards. This was a favorite game of Rose and mine when she was in elementary school - "backwards spelling bee." Infinity, Mississippi, Precocious, pick any big word and spell it backwards. He said world, and I thought SIMPLE! But I could not do it. I couldn't see the word in my head. I couldn't see the letters. I couldn't group the sounds. I also had sporadic bouts of not talking. And zoning out, not really sleeping, but off in la la land. Every hour they came in and did neurological tests, and every time they asked me to spell world backwards. I think by this time Rose and Wilder had been through my whole contact list and notified everyone. My blood pressure was elevated due to the stroke so they gave me something to lower it, then I was wheeled upstairs into a shared room. The same doctor that intimated that I could just be having some hormonal issues then came in and said very seriously... "well, you have had a stroke." And they would keep me for 24 hours and watch me since "any damage will occur during the next 24 hours" he then asked if I had any questions and left. My memory is not highly accurate from this era of strokehood, but I do remember being dumbfounded. And that he could't answer any questions that we posed. Rose's best friend and mother came by. The staff took me for a scan of my arteries and heart. Rose recognized a staffperson who worked in the hospital as being "the wasted funny woman at the 4th of July!" -- that is small town living for you! She said she was sorry to see me under these circumstances. To digress as I always do, that 4th of July was a great education for Rose on being drunk. Since everyone there but us was plowed and exhibiting all the classic types of drunk : from the I love you, man, to sad, to dangerous (carrying a open fire pit with a blazing fire on the back of a truck) to crazy, beligerant, and foul mouthed. It was nothing I could have taught her by telling her the intricacies of alcohol, she got to see it in all its stupid glory.
Anyway, back to stroke. Basically they were admitting me to the hospital for observation and stabilization. After a few hours everyone went home, that is when it got rough. What kept me together was a nurse named Sarah. Or I think her name was Sarah. My friend Lisa had drawn a picture of me on a horse on a whiteboard behind my bed. When Sarah was in folding my discarded clothes she commented on my pants and said she had a pair and loved them. I said they were great for riding because my childbirth pooch doesn't hang over the top, they are high enough. She laughed and agreed, turns out she had a horse too. I don't remember what we talked about regarding the stroke, but I remember her hug was deep and warm, and it felt like everything might be okay. I told her I felt like a sitting duck just waiting for brain damage to occur as the doctor said, and the fear I had for my children. Somehow she calmed me and listened. She also normalized things by bringing in her phone with pics of her horse and told me how she got it. Again, that the world did not just end, there are still stories being made, horses being ridden. It is wonderful to be pulled out of my own space into the bigger world. The nurse the next day told me Sarah used to be a bartender, so has finely honed listening skills. It was perfect for me, and the only manageable moment I remember from the hospital. That and my friend Evelyn's visit the next day, where she advocated for me and told me stories. My night nurse was brought over from another department, and not the brightest bulb. It is sad that me having had a stroke noticed the diminished mental capacities of someone taking care of me. Like when I told her in the wee hours of the morning that my blood pressure was too low... she didn't know that. But I survived the hospital and its parade of hush voiced PT's, OT's, and doctors.

Having A Stroke - Part 1

I get asked alot about my stroke -- if I knew I was having a stroke, what it was like, how it happened. Looking back on it I see now that there were episodes leading up to it that were red flags. Slightly elevated blood pressure for about three years. Pounding heart and uneven beats for about two years. Four visual migraines the week before. The visual migraines - losing sight with no pain- started after the birth of our son around age 35, and I only have one every two to three years.
The migraines and extreme sudden dizziness that happened two days before were the big flags, but with most things got brushed off. Called my doctor. Heart palpitations? The medicine I was on for my blood pressure. The migraines? Menopause or allergies. In fact, many symptoms were explained away by perimenopause.
After the first dizzy spell on a Monday, where the world suddenly reeled, spun and then stopped, I knew something was different. It felt like being on sudafed... kinda like there is a big fuzz over my brain. That evening, I had a dinner to attend, and I remember it was all I could do to pay attention to what was being said. I was very tired, and things became "simple". I had that feeling many times pre and post stroke, the world becomes compartmentalized, and simpler. I realize now after reading about it that is because the brain has to pay attention to everything -- the part of cognition that is automatic and running in the background, i.e. The tv is on, someone is doing the dishes, the telephone rings, the dog is hovering 'cause she's hungry, someone is talking to you.... is altered. Whereas before all those things could be occurring at the same time and you isolate the conversation, my brain couldn't isolate anymore, and all of life's happenings came in at the same importance level. It was simple, because basically I could only focus on one thing at a time.
On Wednesday morning, I woke up and had my regular cup of coffee. After about five minutes it did not taste good anymore so I set it aside. I felt dizzy in the bathroom so went outside to feed the chickens and horses and it lightened and went away. Wilder had a doctor's appointment and so we were getting ready to go. I walked to the front door, knowing something was not right, but forged on. Wilder came outside with me to get in the car and asked if I was alright. I had been speaking to him with a slur, and was having left side failure. My brain was sending the words out correctly, but my mouth could not navigate creation of the sounds. I have not forgotten the look of fear on my son's face when he looked at me and said something's wrong. That's when I told him to get his sister to drive me to the hospital. She ran downstairs in her pajamas. (She didn't change out of them until the evening when her dad took her home) I decided I should go to the bathroom first. That is when I had major left side failure. I started standing up from the toilet and sliding to the left toward the wall and floor. I remember thinking that something was not working right and being somewhat surprised... like What?! Oh no you didn't... you are getting your butt up. I still remember the will it took to get my body upright -- my leg shaking and my brain solely focused on being upright -- but I was not going to traumatize the kids further. And really, what would be more traumatic than a mumbly mom on the floor of the bathroom with her pants down? The stroke at this point was coming and going, I was having intermittent left side failure. This is also possibly due to an embolic ischemic stroke, a clot that comes from the heart, and then dissipates into many little clots. Reminds me of the Angry Birds bird that starts out as a single, but breaks into several smaller bombs. (This stroke cause is a possibility, not a definite. They still don't know why I had a stroke, but are narrowing the options.) Next up: To the hospital.
Pictures: Prestroke. Put me in front of a camera and I cannot be straight. The one of me maniacally laughing was actually supposed to be my author bio photo. It was not chosen since I look insane.