Home Home Sweet Home


I am home. My heart rate and pain stabilized this morning and all the doctors agreed I could do the rest of my healing at home.

I am so happy to just be with my family and to snuggle in my own bed it’s amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever given the short kid and boyfriend so many hugs in such rapid succession. I missed the short kid most of all, and she missed me too despite getting the hell spoiled out of her by her favorite daycare teacher and grandpa.

I’m so glad I’m home. I’ve got a handful of appointments to schedule and have to work out something with her daycare for while I’m off (that way she won’t lose her spot in summer camp) but it’ll all work out.

Happy healing!


Home Sweet Home – Where you do your own laundry


Woke up before 7am this morning, which is honestly sleeping in a bit for me.  Immediately noticed that the dog (who smells like butt) had been sleeping on my favorite blanket all night.  While I was groggily throwing the blanket into my washing machine, I realized… at least at the hospital I don’t have to change bed clothes or wash their gowns.  Laundry is for the birds man.

I am home, I was discharged late Friday.  I came home and promptly fell asleep on my couch curled up with my own blanket, pillow and my kid.  It feels good to be home.  I’m feeling a good deal better (if Prednisone is good for nothing else…) and am enjoying being outside of that small little hospital room.  I have about 6 new prescriptions, which I am doing my best not to forget, and I have to make an appointment with my GI’s office to go in to discuss Cimzia and my insurance.  For now though?  I’m just enjoying being home.

There’s something disheartening about being stuck in a hospital room.  Especially when you reach the point that you *know* that all the meds coming through your IV come in pill form and your off of pain medication.  I’m not a fan of vitals at 3am nor am I a fan of a newly graduated dietitian telling me how to eat, when I’ve been doing this for 7 years next month.  Don’t get me wrong, everyone I came in contact with was very sweet, it just gets to me when I start feeling better and I have to reign in my tongue a bit to make sure I don’t smart off.  When I’m doing the “Oh my god what’s wrong with me now” thing, that’s one thing, but other than that?  I want to go home.  At least no one charges me anything to go home and not eat and sleep on my own couch.

See, there I go again.  Haha.

Anyway, I have some things to do and a breakfast to figure out.  I hope everyone is having a great weekend!

Frustration and Cold Coffee


Something has been itching in my brain these past few weeks.  It’s been making me feel restless and frustrated, and while having a brain-eating-worm might not be so much fun, at least there’d be a direct reason.  It’s most likely just the changing seasons.  You know, the warm days and chilly nights?  The beginning of fall/end of summer always seem to make me feel… like I said, itchy.  Twitchy.  Something.


Little Noodle is now officially a 1st grader.  My little girl rides the school bus, has recess and brings homework back in her new little backpack.  She seems to be having a lot of fun, and according to the email I received from her teach today, she’s doing great.  I’m definitely proud of her, and happy for her as well as a bit in shock.  When the hell did she turn 6?  When the hell did she become old enough for school (she was in private Kinder, it just didn’t hit home as much as now)?  Ahhh, the years of diaper changing and bottle washing are behind me… just like potty training.  There are many more years to enjoy, but I have a strong feeling that the other parents are right.  These years are just going to fly by.


So maybe that’s it.  Maybe it’s that I’m coming to the realization that my kid is not only growing up, but growing up quickly.


Work has been frustrating me, which is nothing entirely new.  The last couple months have had me wanting to tear my own hair out… or quit.  I still love my job, quite a bit actually.  I enjoy doing what I’m actually supposed to be doing, but lately it’s just been irritating to no end.  It seems like I end up picking up a lot of the slack, and while I admit I’m good at it, that doesn’t mean I want to do it.  It’s been hard lately, we have such a good team, but it still gets mucked up.  Just like I predicted, the office/shop seem to be spontaneously combusting.  I called it, I called it 8 weeks ago.  Hell, I even raised the warning flags to both my higher ups, but it’s still combusting at will.  The sad part is, is that I’m actually getting worn down.  It’s not that I can’t handle my job, because I most definitely can, but that combined with cleaning up after someone else’s mistakes, I’m making mistakes.  To know that someone else makes a good salary and bonuses, doing the literal job I wanted (since management removed the *one* thing I didn’t want to do) and manages to mess up enough to create twice the work for me pisses me off.

I guess the what *really* frustrates me about work, isn’t really all I just puked out above.  It’s that I’ve gone to management twice each now and nothing has changed.  It’s that I *know* other people have brought up problems, and no resolution has come about.  More importantly?  It’s that I swallowed all of my smart retorts, I did all the extra work, I smiled and taught/re-taught/re-re-taught when needed.  It’s that I did *MY* job for a whole two weeks and trusted someone else to take care of things and all I got out of it where a shit-ton of mistakes, pissed off stores and customers.  I had 2 weeks of glory, of only doing what I was supposed to be doing instead of fixing shiznit and double checking.  I figured sink or swim.  Well, that someone else sank but didn’t drown and now I’m stressed again.

I talked to my parents about this, and while my lovely step-ma agreed with me and came up with some wonderful ideas… I think my pops may have it more right.  “You can love a job, but it doesn’t matter, eventually you get a boss who is a moron screws up everything…and no one will listen.”  So while I’m valuing my step-ma’s advice (and actually putting some of it in motion), I’m heeding what my Dad had to say and keeping my options open. I’m glad I have a job, a job that deep down I love, but that doesn’t mean I am going to sit back and enjoy someone else running each day into the ground.


So that might be it too.  I get a headache just thinking about it.


Life at home is good though, thankfully.  I think I’d lose my mind otherwise.  Ryan and I hit our 2 year mark sometime last month (no, neither of us remember the date) and… well.. life is happy.  The house is shaping up and so is the yard, and my house is most definitely feeling like a home… like my sanctuary.  It’s amazing the difference in just living somewhere and living somewhere you have made into a home.  It’s one of the best feelings there is.  I’m very grateful that if I have a crappy day at work or anything negative for that matter, that I can come home and feel relieved.  I can kiss the boyfriend, pet the cat and dogs and snuggle my kid.  The kiddo is finally happy too, especially now that her bio-dad stopped popping in with random phone calls.   It sounds cold, but after another 5 months of not hearing from him, not a single peep about him from my kid, and seeing her smile and laugh, I am thrilled.  When he was calling before, her behaviour was rough and emotions crazy.  Now that it’s back to normal, she’s her happy self again!  I’m really hoping he realized how much he was hurting her before, because it was intense.  I was miffed when I found out this whole time he’s been out in CO, he’s actually been running around getting married and having another kid ( I mean, christ, he doesn’t pay for his other 2! ), but you know what?  Maybe he’s happy now and can finally let us be happy.  I hope so.


So, things are far from bad.  Just some stupid-shit at work mostly… but I don’t think that’s it.  I just feel antsy and almost stagnant.  I just have to find something else I want to tackle.  Improving my credit (and saving money) isn’t enough of an obstacle.  I think I just need to set some new goals to work towards, and find another way to deal with the stress from work so it continues to stay out of my home life.  Eh, I’ll come up with something.  Winter’s coming… that leaves a lot of time indoors to putter around and work towards goals.


Long Days :: Busy Mind


Please excuse the rambling, it’s been a long day.

There’s some days where I get a little bit down about having Crohns Disease.  It drags on my head, sticks in the back of my mind.  I don’t even have to be feeling all that sick.  Sometimes all it takes is a little reminder, like visiting my GI doctor for a check up, or scheduling a Remicade appointment.  Of course there are the days where I feel sub-par, and the days where I flat out feel like road kill… and ironically, those days I don’t get down at all.  I spend those days focused on making it through, it’s not until I feel better that I get down about spending that time sick.

It’s difficult sometimes to think that this is a disease that I’ll have for the rest of my life, it’s even more difficult knowing that I could be in remission for years, and it could spring back up.  Just that alone makes me a tad depressed.  However, those days that I feel 100%, which thankfully are more and more now, I feel like I can continue to take on the world.  It takes the good days to remember that I will and have gotten through it.  Crohn’s Disease will not get me down.

What really kicks me in the ass is when I have a down right horrible Crohn’s day, or if I’m just particularly down, is coming home.  I’ll be driving home from work/school/the moon and be in near tears.  Yet, when I get home, open the door and shoo away the dogs, I feel better.  Now, once I get home I realize how lucky I am.  I am proud of what I’ve done for myself and for Noodle, and now that my house is more like my home it’s an example of it.  My home is an example of what I’ve been through and what I’ve overcome.  So I may not be over the moon happy, but knowing how far I’ve come despite having a chronic illness, it shakes more reality into my busy head.

So I may have Crohn’s Disease, but that’s part of who I am, and part of what’s made me strong.

Bliss: No blood draws at 2am


I am aliiiiiiive.  Yup.  Not to mention at home.  I flipped a shit yesterday after having to deal with my “assigned” surgeon and his shit-head-know-it-all logic.  I spent the day doing light exercise, sneaking crackers and water to test my obstruction, and basically arguing with him and his team.  By about 4 pm I had it.  I called my nurses in, my doctors already knew I was going AMA, and told them I was leaving by 6:30 with or with out needed paperwork.

Basically what happened was, I have (had) an obstruction in my small intestine thanks to my Crohns Disease.  Second one in over a year.  Just like last year, it’s not a normal obstruction, just swelling around where the fistula is, blocking the way.  So in order to get the swelling down, I need to be on steroids and anti-biotics.  My GI doctor *is* on board with surgery, but also understands that I need to be at home with my daughter and back to work as soon as possible.  The Urologist and Head PA also understood the need to plan out surgery instead of going gung-ho.  So after chatting with all of them and ignoring surgeon boy I decided it was time to go.  All of them know that I don’t stay for observation.  I am planning and going back to have the resection done, but down the line, when I can arrange time off with work, and get everything taken care of house-wise.

I am feeling much better, that’s mostly because I’m at home though.  I always take my bedroom for granted.  Man I missed sleeping in my own bed and THROUGH the night, even if it was just for a couple of days.  I love my 3rd shift nurses and most of them remember me or get used to me quickly but man do I hate being woken up for blood draws and vitals.  So home and rest it is.  My plans for the weekend are to take it easy.  Heal.  And get spoiled by the boyfriend and kiddo.  I’m a lucky girl.

Happy weekend!

Changing the Seasons


Apparently the boyfriend’s and my anniversary is coming up, or past, or whatever.  I’m not sure and quite honestly I am content to let the boyfriend figure out when it’s supposed to be.  Regardless we’ve been together for about a year, give or take two weeks.  [Obviously I’m the best girlfriend ever, if I can’t remember our anniversary how am I going to bitch at him for forgetting… lets add in that I forgot what MONTH his birthday was in last week.  Trophy please.]  We talked about everything that’s happened in our lives in the past year and we talked about change.

Change.  Our lives have changed quite a bit in the past year.  Some of the changes were unavoidable and abrupt, while some changes happened with out us even noticing.  So as we sat with our coffee out in the backyard, I started to think about how much life has changed.  I thought about the way our lives have evolved, intertwining our families and aspirations for the future.  How my home has been molded into our home and how we’ve changed each other.

While of course, parts of us are still the same as they were before.  He’s still laid back enough that a house could drop on him and he wouldn’t care if he lost his ruby slippers.   Where as I’m still high strung to the point where I can have an anxiety attack big enough for the both of us.. or hell the whole county.  I’m still anal retentive about getting bills paid and the house clean, where as he realizes that the world will not end if it isn’t done right. this. fucking. second. The only change regarding our own personalities is that we kind of balance each other out.  He’ll help me clean when I’m being neurotic and I’ll kick him square in the nads when he has procrastinated on something too long.

I know for sure that other aspects of me have changed.  I’ve finally become a homebody.  I realized last weekend that I hadn’t “gone out” in 4 months… and didn’t even know it had been that long.  I used to get antsy if I was stuck inside all the time, now I prefer it.  I’d much rather be out in the backyard with the boyfriend that at the bar or wasting money at a restaurant.  I’d rather get up at 8am on Saturday and work on the yard than feel exhausted since I was up until 3am.  I don’t know if it was because of his homebody demeanor or what, but something rubbed off on it.  Staying out of the night life has taught me nothing if not that I know who my real friends are.  Which is nothing but a benefit.  We both have learned who our close and true friends are in the past year, and the list has dwindled but friendships we’ve kept have strengthened.

All in all we talked about the people we were and the people we want to become.  I think we’ve got something good here folks, and I’m glad we decided to take the chance and get to know each other.  Who knows what the future can bring, and as long as it’s not dead bodies ie me having to bury him in the yard under the lilies, I’m good.  So I guess once I figure out our anniversary (or just make up a date) I’ll wish for many more years.  In the mean time, I’m happy with what we have and am grateful to have the family we have.


Simple Things. Simple Woman.



So The Boyfriend and I were talking over the weekend about all of the stuff we need to do with the house in order to make this move go smoothly.  Combining two households worth of shit is not the easiest thing in the world, especially when both of us seem to lean a bit towards pack-rats.  We’re listing off all the stuff we need to do, and of course, in typical me-style, I start getting anxiety-ridden.  It was overwhelming.  The list in reality wasn’t that long.  The major parts just being a general cleaning and clearing out the third bedroom.  Either way, I got overwhelmed.  I went through the mountain of clothes that had over-time grew on the floor and The Boyfriend put away some boxes in the attic for me.  Far from done though.  I had two huge foot lockers to move, clothes to move into another closet and numerous other cleaning to do.  I figured whatever.

Today I had to work.  You know, that adult thing I do Monday-Friday 8-5. The Boyfriend didn’t have to work today (usually he’s got the same schedule as I do) due to his boss being a general putz.  So he was going to stay home and get some additional work done.  I headed into work and dealt with bullshit after bullshit from stores and general annoyance in my mindless paperwork.  If it wasn’t for an awesome viewing with a great customer with exotic granite and finding out raises will be on the next paycheck, someone might have died.  Like no shit, died.  Shanked.  With my little yellow pen with the feathers and glitter on top.  I was not in a good mood.

As I was pulling through my neighborhood, I started making a list of things that I wanted to take care of tonight.  Putting away the rest of the clothes, organizing the closet in my room.  I knew he had done some work, I asked him to move the footlockers since I couldn’t lift them and so on.  What I came home to blew my mind.  My living-room… spot less.  My bedroom… spotless.  Trunks in the closet and clothes put away.  Boxes gone, 3rd bedroom cleaned out (minus a pile of mystery stuff he didn’t know what to do with.  Kitchen… spotless.  Steaks, marinating.  Coffee brewing.  Ya’ll know how I am about that.  Clean a little bit, wield a few tools and know when I’ll need a cup of coffee and I’m yours.  Needless to say, I was amazed.  I walked into my bedroom… and spotted my book shelf empty, sitting in the spotless nook.  Where were my books?  Holy fucking shit.  The boyfriend put up 3 wall to wall shelves in my nook for all my books.  My book shelf, 4 tiers high, and stacked 2 books thick… empty.  Now I can fill it with more books.  :)  It was a wonderful end to a stressful day.

So now, he’s watching cartoons with my little one while I write and enjoy this cup of coffee, and I’m left to my own thoughts.  I’m so incredibly happy, it’s almost like a dream.  I’m a simple girl.  I don’t like bouquets of flowers or expensive jewelry.  I don’t need expensive nights out to restaurants, where a plate is worth more than my beater car.  The simple things make me happy.  Like my rose-bush.  Coming home to a clean house.  Freshly painted walls.  Home-cooked dinner.  Bookshelves.  My favorite presents I’ve gotten? From him.  The two I love most?  My leather and twine bracelet (he picked mine and I picked his) and my shell necklace.  Simple.  I’m very lucky to have met someone who knows exactly what I like, what I need, and when I need it.  Perfectly timed every time.  He’s made this woman a very happy one.  A jealous little girl has said that he’s not a man, but a “bitch”.  At first I was a bit angry but now?  I’m laughing.  A man is not a bitch for up-keeping a house with his own hands.  A man is not a bitch for working every day.  A man is not a bitch for buying me what I want instead of stupid shit.  A man is not a bitch for doing things to make me happy, just because he can.  So if a “Man” doesn’t do these things, then I’m not interested.  I’m in a relationship to be happy, to have someone (literally) by my side.  I want (and am finally) with someone who is on the same team as I am.  We can fight our battles together.  I think that’s what makes a real man, not someone who treats me like shit and leaves me hanging.

I’ve done a lot of thinking in the past week, a lot of muddling through my thoughts.  Debating whether or not we’re making the right decision.  I recapped the last year and re-thought everything I’ve been looking for.  The last year has changed who I am, and what I want.  I’m a better person for all the shit that has happened, and luckily for  me, I found someone who is a better person for what he’s been through.  So I’m going to leave this entry on that, and finish enjoying the evening.

I hope everyone had a good weekend and doesn’t mind my mushy posts the past couple days.  I’m busy making my house a home.  :)