Category Archives: Health

Muddy Waters Marty

The other day, I was thinking more about my masseuse’s comment: What kind of crazy stressful life are you living? To be honest, I felt kind of ashamed when he said that, bc duh, I’m not even working right now. I don’t necessarily feel super stressed, but then again, I also have a history of being oblivious to stress until it manifests physically (shingles, H1N1, walking pneumonia). While in Palm Springs though, I definitely noticed that I slept better. The hotel was so freaking quiet, and I slept uninterrupted through the entire night. At home, I have the toughest time getting rest. Every leadership and productivity book I read talks about the importance of sleep. There have also been recent studies linking shitty sleep to Alzheimer’s (which my maternal grandmother now has and I think my mother will have…). I’ve been trying desperately to get that shit sorted, so I don’t follow their same path towards crazy.

So after two days of rest and relaxation, I came back late Monday to a number of things that immediately swung me back into an anxious state. First, Marty completely soiled my new sectional with mud. Yes, the couch that is dry-clean only and requires water-free solvent!chaise

Granted, the Bay Area was socked in with rain and wind while I was away– unusually wet and stormy weather. J says Marty was stressed bc I was away. I dunno: it’s never been an issue before, but seeing as old age is turning him into a different dog, I suppose it’s possible. Then, there’s also the high pressure changes that might have made him uncomfortable. Certainly, in the last several years, as a senior dog, he has never had a habit of getting on the furniture. In the last year, there have been times with his sundown syndrome (nighttime anxiety) when Bubbey has invited him onto the old sofa to spoon and calm down. But he never invites himself. I don’t know if he was stressed or confused or what. Needless to say, when I walked through the door and saw the extensive muddy mess ALL over the white chaise, I was so pissed. The weird thing is, typically I’m not one for keeping possessions in mint condition (I have a scratched car, scratched wood floors, dirty leather boots, etc.). I value use and practicality over keeping shit pristine and unused, but I dunno. It was less than a month old, and I was really trying to embrace this new art of staying tidy. Still, who could fault Marty. He wasn’t trying to act out. I mean, in his old age, he just isn’t quite himself anymore. J was beyond exasperated when I got home. It was interesting how in two days, our positions flip flopped. The week prior, I had been exhausted and frustrated. Marty was super clingy during the day (often getting in my way and causing me to trip on him) and then at night, he was restless, scratching his bed a billion times, panting crazy, and going in and out of the doggie door. I was so annoyed, I yelled at him a few times, and Bubbey tried to remind me that he was a good dog. Similar to what we have witnessed with our oldie humans, these elder years are fucking challenging, man. And if I think back, they were excruciatingly difficult with Remy too.

Maybe he just needed to feel safe in a den? So we brought out his dog crate. Both Remy and Marty were crate trained, and when we lived in Virginia, they were crated during the day. I’m a big advocate of crating but we stopped the practice in 2004 just bc they were fine without it. So I put him back in on Monday night, and shit, he started wigging out. WTF is going on? I let him out after a few minutes. Ugh. Probably too many years have passed since crate living. That night though, he slept like a fucking rock in the bedroom. No wakeups or anything. I was hopeful.

Then, the very next day, same shit as before: clingy during the day. I was thinking that maybe I ought to confine him to a room so I can rest at night, so I put him in my office where he usually sleeps while I am on the computer most of the day. In the middle of the day, I left for a few hours and when I came back, he had knocked the water bowl and was again stressed and panting. That night, the sundown syndrome was back with a vengeance. I got no sleep and in the middle of the night, I started researching this. Holy crap: so many forums where people have old dogs (> 11 years) and these same problems!! People liken this period to having a newborn. They aren’t getting any sleep and they are worried about functioning at their jobs during the day. They have tried everything: crating, melatonin, doggie xanax, Benedryl, sleeping in the human’s bed, etc. It makes me think of a comment my friend J once made about being the father to three children. He said, “Now I know why pigs kill (roll over) their young.” And it’s sad, bc I remember the glory days when everyone was young and happy and healthy. Remy and Marty brought me so much joy. How can I NOT try every possible option? So that night, I ordered a few tinctures plus some homeopathic sleeping pills. Part of the complication is that Marty’s kidney disease makes it difficult for him to process standard pain meds (for arthritis) and in the past when we tried xanax, it made things worse. And then with all the upcoming travel, I worry about getting him adequate care.

Meanwhile, in the last few weeks, I’ve been getting those calls in the middle of the night from mom in Taiwan. My phone rings at like 3am, and when I see it’s from Taiwan, I feel anxious that maybe something happened to the grandparents (all three are over 93 y/o) or my parents. Nope, mom just got the time change wrong. Jesus fucking Christ. Then, yesterday, after a sleepless night with Marty, I got a call from Dad at 8am. Johnny was supposed to cancel my grandparents’ return flight since they are going to live in Taiwan now but instead, he accidentally checked them in. Can I call United and fix it of figure out the cancel/change/refund situation? Ugh!! Dad is all maxed out and stressed. Normally, WTF. Get the AB Duke scholar (my brother) to call and fix his mistake! But then Dad sounds so stretched and at the end of his string, that Jesus Christ, fine. I’ll do it. Argh!! Next time, I will just have to call my brother and tell him to handle it. Fucking A. As for the “helping my parents” vs enabling issue. My dad just is not in the mental state right now to be empowered. Between dealing with my neurotic mother and handling all my maternal grandparents’ paperwork/logistics (the townhouse, medical coverage, housing– moving from place to place, travel, taxes, etc.) plus his youngest sister just underwent heart surgery, it’s just too damn much. And again, as I am seeing with Marty, old age is fucking my Dad over. He just can’t function the way he used to. His capacity is down big time.

I guess this is what people call the sandwich generation. It’s this period in your life when you are trying to raise and care for your own family while also handling eldercare. It’s especially stressful I think when you feel like there aren’t enough people to help. Like my Dad does everything (yes partly bc he is a control freak), but also bc my mother doesn’t have the capacity and bc my brother really is a fucking useless tard.

Anyway, as I write all this out, it’s no fucking wonder my muscles are tighter than hell. I’m just trying to take this shit one step at a time. The first calming tincture did not help Marty at all last night. Tonight, I’ll try the second one. I sure hope it knocks Marty out.

Pool Time in Palm Springs

I was in Palm Springs last weekend meeting up with my friend G, who flew in from Seattle. The trip was brief, but we had a good time, hitting the food scene, raiding the outlets, and soaking up the rays by the pool and at the hot springs. We used to chat fairly regularly via phone, but now those catch ups are harder to coordinate, so it was nice to have a couple days to get back up to speed. Unfortunately, it’s always a bit disappointing to hear other people with their stories of workplace drama and bullshit. I know people say dickwads are everywhere, but I guess I just never want to believe it. Annoying. Family-wise though, it sounds like things are going well: the baby is getting big and learning new skills. They are enjoying their house, planning to renovate the basement, and gearing up for some travel. I have to say, G+J have always been really good about hitting places they want to go without procrastinating. J and I are trying to do more of that this year, with the whole “best life” theme and all. As a side note though, I do think it helps when both people in the couple are planners. Not that I’m jabbing at Bubbey, but I’m just saying: he gets decision fatigue from work; likewise, sometimes I get fatigued from handling all the household and travel/trip logistics. In the end, it works out fine, but there are just some roadblocks every now and then that seem to slow us down.

G was asking me about my bucket list, which I used to maintain online with Schemer until the app went kaput. I actually managed to find another version/copy on my iphone notes. It’s definitely been helpful for us at least in terms of picking out our destinations, but thinking about my bucket list also reminds me that I need to go back to writing out my new year resolutions. I used to do it, but then I stopped for no real reason. Those resolutions def helped keep me on track for the year, even if some shit would get done in the last two weeks of December!

Back to the trip: Overall, I was happy with how the visit panned out. Before my flight into Ontario (much cheaper than PSP and only 70 min away!), the forecast had called for mostly wind and rain. But once we got in town, we lucked out with several hours of sunshine every day and really, it only started to rain heavily on our last day AFTER we were already done with the spa and hot springs and headed for the airport. Oh, at the hot springs spa, I got a deep tissue massage. Goddamn, I’ve had a lot of strong-handed masseuses, but this dude was way intense. Hurt like hell, and I think my wrists are bruised today. I did ask him to lighten up for the bottom half, but initially, you know me: I’m always wanting to test my threshold. The guy did say that my muscles were crazy tight. “What kind of crazy, stressful life are you living?” Um, I dunno. I’m not even working right now. WTF?! Whatever, chock it up as a physical manifestation of my insomnia and usual overthinking. Then again, he probably just says that to every client. I tried to call him on it, but he insists he was being honest. He did recommend that I exercise more regularly. Maybe he felt a lot of jiggly spots. 😛

I def recommend PSP for a quickie weekend destination. Short flight out of SJC, there’s the mid-century modern architecture (though we didn’t cover too much of that on this trip), outdoor options (Joshua Tree or Indian Canyon), hot springs and spas, outlets, and the food is pretty good. Sure, being in the middle of the desert with a gabillion golf courses sucking up crazy amounts of water feels rather strange and counter-intuitive, but shit, there is nothing like sunshine and pool time. And thankfully, the place we stayed was 1) child-free and 2) had 24-hr. pool and hot tub access. Seriously, I must have gone for a soak/dip 3 times in one day. Live it up while you can, baby. Although now that I think of it, our lives at home meet both of those requirements already. Well, no pool. ;)[FAG id=7447]

On the Mend

Mid February is a festive time of year, primarily bc of Chinese New Year, but also bc there’s Valentine’s Day (if you celebrate that made-up marketing holiday) and Presidents’ Day (= day off from work). Of course, as my luck would have it, February is also the one time of the year that my body likes to shut the fuck down. Waay down. Yup, my CNY party got canceled (again!), bc I returned from Long Beach and caught a cold. Admittedly, I am the world’s worst sick person: as soon as I feel one teensy bit better, I overdo it, and then my body revolts. So yeah, my Chinese New Year party got canceled (after I bought most of the ingredients for an extensive menu). I gave in and decided to give myself the long holiday weekend to recover. By Monday, I thought I was back on the up and up. Then, that evening I went to hip hop class 3. Since it was a holiday, none of the kids showed up, and it was just four adults with a new routine again (every two weeks!), and holy fuck there were a gabillion steps! We started with warm ups, and almost immediately, my head started feeling dizzy and light headed. I thought I was going to faint and/or throw up. And then, we started into the routine. This dude is too much into the sexy moves. I mean, I know hip hop has a lot of bumping and grinding, but why can’t we learn moves that are more non-sexual bboy/Missy Elliot style, you know? Whatever. So this new routine starts off with three body rolls and wtf, Robot Vix couldn’t even do those. Teacher was all like, “Think of sexy time with the hubby.” He is too much. And there must have been twice as many steps as our previous routines. I couldn’t even remember them all. Usually, after I get home, I write down key words to remind myself of the steps. You know, like butt sways, swivel, hip swirl, shake dice, etc. Nope. All gone. No frickin’ clue. Chock it up to being sick. One class left, and then if I ever learn hip hop again, it’s going to be online.

The next day, I was feeling sore from the one hour of dance. I know, I’m pathetic. Still, I was determined to be productive. The elfa closet installer arrived promptly at 8 am, and he worked until about 2 pm. While he was here, I got to working on the monster trash pile that had accumulated the last several months by the shed. There was all that demo waste from when Bubbey took down the shelving and paneling in the garage. Then, there was household junk, and since we had a few big storms, everything was soggy and sopping wet. It was disgusting. I had scheduled Wednesday for the city’s “On Call Plus” special curbside pickup service, and since I like to follow instructions, I had to remove a shit ton of nails from everything and then stack the shelving on the curb and bundle old drywall and panel pieces into bags. Bubbey had started already on some of the bagging but they were supposed to be < 50 lbs. Most were way heavier, esp since now they were wet. So I had to move crap around from old bags to new bags. Long story short, mucking around in all that junk triggered my allergies. Big. Time. I could NOT stop sneezing. I’m sure the closet installer was like, wtf is wrong with this lady? Needless to say, I got most of the junk cleared out. And I think I earned my stripes, bc the utility crew working on the house next door made some comment like, “You sure are working hard for a Tuesday!” Yeah dude, I am on a mission.

On Wednesday, I felt like shit again. This time, my body was even more sore and I was too exhausted to get out of bed. I stayed in bed until noon and then I went out to check on the junk, and it was all still there. I started getting worried that maybe they weren’t going to take it all. Maybe I didn’t get all the nails out or the stuff was supposed to be boxed instead of stacked? I went back to bed. By 3, I got up and thankfully, everything was gone: the 9′ tall wooden shelf, the screen door, the bags, the wood, the old cast iron grates, all of it! Yay. Now I think one more On Call Plus should do the trick and then, we are done!!

By evening, I was feeling better but starving. Bubbey’s been super busy with work, so I had a minor pity party about being sick and being left alone to die. Yeah, drama. queen. Then, I figured I needed to save myself. So that CNY duck got roasted up. Like I told my father many years ago, “I can put my own bread on the table.” Get it, girl. Duck came out amazeballs. And then I even did a killer job carving that bird up. Yeah!

 

At the Club

So I’m mentally preparing for hip hop class #2 tonight. The first class actually wasn’t as bad as I had expected. There were only about ten students, and 3 or so were adults. Also, even the level of my classmates wasn’t that impressive compared to the other hip hop class I took many years ago. Of course, I still tried real hard to concentrate. Fuck man, no matter how easy the teach claims the movements are, I just have no concept on how to make my body move and contort in those ways. Teach is some white homeboy who’s super tatted up. I know my class is 13 y/o and up and all, but some of the music selection was def questionable for the younger (well and older) end of that spectrum. Seriously, I don’t need to be listening to people moaning and groaning all 2 Live Crew style. And of course, about NONE of the songs were familiar to me; then again, are we surprised? I’m perpetually stuck in the 80s and 90s.

The first half of class was focused on warm ups, and despite my 15+ months of inactivity, I was able to keep up. Then, we got into the choreography. Damn, that term sounds so legit, right? First move? Squatting to the right side and pumping the upper body. I tried it a number of times: I think I ended up just pumping my arms but not flexing my torso. Fuck, I have no idea. Then homeboy says, “Pump it! Come on, you know, pump it like you’re at the club.” I just stood there and stared at him blankly. Seeing the cluelessness in my face, he proceeds to demonstrate like he is humping an imaginary tree. Dude, I’m here to learn hip hop, not all this trashy bumpin’ and grinding. Fuck, there is a difference right??

Needless to say, I focused hard that night, and I am happy to report that one week later, I still remember the entire routine— which is obviously like 1/10 of a real routine but whatever. Baby steps. Of course, I just do the sequence of events… I don’t pair it with a step count, and I def don’t put it to music. So yeah, basically I’m just going through the motions. I’m telling you, I can’t feel the beat or rhythm or ANYTHING.

And he had us do this butt slap move followed by a spin and squat. I quasi-pulled my calf muscle. Yes, this is 40, mother fuckers. Thankfully, I wasn’t totally out of commission so I continued in class but still, I know the truth and it is disappointing as hell. Of course, as luck would have it, he starts a new routine every two weeks, so I can just chuck every damn bit that I learned. Today is all new.

Admittedly, I should practice more. I did find a series on Howcast called Hip Hop Dance Moves for Kids. It seemed a little more up my alley with the good, clean fun and all.

Poop Pressures

So this happened two weekends ago, but I’m going to share so you can “laugh at my pain,” as Kevin Hart says. So yeah, Bubs and I were in Santana Row for the Container Store (elfa shelving). Because I slept in late, we ended up not getting there until lunch time. I was feeling hungry, so fine, let’s eat at our old standby Pasta Pomodoro. I got my usual: gorgonzola ravioli. Delish. Even though we had never dined at this particular location, we have certainly eaten at many PP, and they are consistently good. Well not. this. time.

I mean, the meal tasted awesome going down, but after our stint with the closet expert, as soon as we got out of TCS, the shits came on fast and strong. I went to the closest coffee shop bathroom, and I swear to god, it was occupied FORever. Minutes went ticking by as my bowels tore themselves apart. Finally, we decided to head home and of course, we hit every goddamn fucking red light possible. In the car, which John already drives all herky jerky, I started sweating, so we blasted the AC. Then, I was freezing, then hot again then cold. Repeat. Holy fuck. We just barely made it home, and then my body was exhausted as hell from trying to keep that shit (literally) under control for 20 minutes. Jesus Christ. What a close call!

WTF is Going On?

Holy shit, am I the only one who believes the world is coming to an end? Jesus f-ing Christ. Between the gabillionth bizarro, sketchy cop brutality incident, Cecil the lion, Donald Trump asinine shit, human trafficking, sexual assault and murder of girls by boys (NOT adults), the Planned Parenthood/abortion debacle, it’s pushing me to the goddamn edge. What the hell is wrong with people? I mean, seriously. I know the news sensationalizes crap and chooses mostly negative stories to feed the fear engine, but STILL. Even if what I’m seeing is a super skewed, shitty version of news, each and every story is disturbing as hell. I am incredulous and disgusted each and every day by how fricking egregious all of this is. I mean, at this point, is it really any wonder that my parents are distrustful paranoid people who call to tell me to stay indoors after dark and not travel anywhere alone?? I am fed up. And yet, what am I personally going to do about it? Not a damn thing other than try to bury my head in the sand to get some respite. And that tactic only lasts for so long, bc my job requires that I follow all the news feeds. Argh. I know, Vicky’s in an awful shit mood again. What’s new, right? What can I say, if you want pandas and balloons and positivity, go elsewhere. Unapologetic like a boss!! 😛

In other news, day three and still no word from T-Mobile. I decided to log into my account tonight, and whaddya know? Fucking $410 in credits/adjustments with an updated balance due of $0. Gee, thanks for responding to my email/letter with an apology/explanation/ANYTHING letting me know that you’ve removed the charges. Here’s the thing about T-Mobile. Their concept of revolutionizing mobile? Awesome. In retrospect, I clearly fell for the marketing ploy, bc the execution? Totally misleading, dishonest, and 100% questionable.

  • First? Be straight up about your shit cell coverage. Those maps are a joke. I went to legit cities: DC, SF, Atlanta, LA. All spotty coverage. Mountain View was 4G on the map. All calls from home consistently dropped. I paid for a data package in Tokyo. Zippo service.
  • Then, the stupid early termination fee refund. Don’t have the process include a zillion steps, including forcing you to ship your phone in (instead of take it to the store). More hoops, more room for scamming.
  • Also, if you say you terminated my contract with Verizon, don’t do such a shoddy job that you actually DON’T cancel, and I end up still paying months’ worth of service.
  • Lastly, with the signal booster? I really wonder how many other customers are getting screwed with this “he said/she said” bullshit. How many people are 1) taking pics/documenting tracking numbers for packages they ship back and 2) following up later to ensure that they don’t get these bogus fees charged to their accounts? T-Mobile has an account with UPS. T-Mobile generated my shipping label for the return, and yet they insisted that they didn’t know the tracking number??! Like with all the automated/database systems, they couldn’t match a name/address to a tracking number?!? Fuck you, liars! My lesson here? If there are ever early flags in a new service/contract, get the hell out ASAP. Don’t give companies the benefit of the doubt, bc with T-Mobile, the shade just got worse and worse. And last year, they were actually busted by the FTC and ordered to pay $90M for unauthorized third party charges to customer bills. Flat out stealing, and yet, who’s going to jail for this? Not a damn soul.

Ok, shifting to some positive things to report today. K and I went to the gym. I did my 27 minutes of activity, and then I was all proud of myself bc a song came on the radio and a gym goer went up to the front desk to ask if she knew the name of the song. She had no clue. Since I obviously eavesdropped, I jumped right in: “The song is ‘Hips Don’t Like’ by Shakira and Wyclef.” The kid was super grateful, and I thought to myself, “See, I am up on what’s happening!” I continued patting myself on the back and walked smugly over to K to share this wonderful example highlighting my relevance. Without a beat, she responded, “That song is REALLY old. It came out when I was in high school, circa 2005.” Way to take the wind out of my sails, buddy. Sigh. That’s what I get with radical honesty, which K has kindly agreed to adopt/implement only with me. Special treatment for a special bud. K knows her pop culture shit, but I was still kinda in disbelief about just how old that song was. So I just looked it up again. Yup, 2005. Fuck, man. And Shakira. It’s just not right how hot that woman is. And how the hell is she isolating the ab movements in that video?? I am perplexed. Regardless, I’m pretty damn sure she’s exercising longer than 27 minutes twice a week. 😛

What else. Oh, dad called tonight at 8:30p. Left a message saying he had just updated his new laptop to Windows 10, and now the interface is completely unrecognizable and hence unusable. Jesus fucking Christ. Windows 10 just came out YESTERDAY. It’s so damn new, I haven’t even updated my own shit, bc I wanted to wait a week or two to let Microsoft work out all the kinks. Now you see where I get my urgency/impatience. SMH. My father kills me. I seriously need to buy LogMeIn stock. That remote control software is a life. saver.

Bump in the Road

So I got super pissed off at work today. Despite kicking off my series of new programs last week, I had an exchange with my boss last night and this afternoon that just really made me want to hit eject on this goddamn place. (Yes, I know, I AM impatient just as many of you have said.) So my new programs (all started around the same time) include: K and I hitting the campus gym twice a week instead of once, the FMD diet (though not strictly enforced), and rollerblading several times a week with Marty (he’s slow and therefore off-leash). After wasting the two weeks prior, I was finally feeling this week like, “Yeah, let’s get back on the wagon!”

Usually, I take great pride in my ability to spend time solo. I know, God forbid I ever admit to any kind of reliance or dependency on Bubbey, right? Well, the truth is, I really was handling everything just fine. I mean, the Marty maintenance was kind of intense, but I was getting all the details organized: the right combo of ingredients for his meals, the right mix of supplements, a cooking/meal prep schedule, the daily fluids intake… He visited the vet Sunday night, and the doctor suggested that I increase the fluids volume so I could decrease the frequency of pokes. I tried it earlier this week, but he just didn’t seem as good as he looked on the daily schedule. Right now, he is pooping and peeing regularly, drinking water on his own, and even having enough appetite to consume two hearty meals every day. Fingers crossed that this shit keeps up– forever.

On my parents’ end of things, I ordered my dad a new laptop, it delivered this week, and Bubbey dropped in town to help with set up. Yesterday evening, dad called about a missing “forward” button with his email, and immediately, I noticed he was still using the OLD laptop. Fucking A!! He complained that the old one didn’t have sound and was super slow with startup, blah, blah, so I get him a brand new one and he doesn’t use it!! I was so annoyed, but whatever, I’ll give him a few days. In general though, things finally seemed to be on the upswing (I spoke with my grandparents on the phone, and they sounded great!), and with two days left until Bubbey’s return, positivity was creeping back into my life! Imagine that.

Well, last night and this afternoon, my boss ticked me off with her office drama bullshit. Long story short, since I started here eight months ago, she’s always felt a need to meet with me before we’ve had meetings scheduled with other departments/teams across campus. In the beginning, I assumed that she was just being protective of my time, which is a good thing: You know, don’t agree to take on too many tasks/assignments from other people, and that way, we can maintain a manageable workload. I viewed this as her way of throttling work in my pipeline. Over time, however, I came to see that these “pre-meetings” were actually way more political. I understand that I work under her, and that I serve the central marcom office. I get that there are other forces at the institution that perhaps might have thoughts and ideas about how our social media efforts can serve them. The thing is, I have decent social skills. I’m not a world-class social intelligence expert like Bubbey is, but I’ve read a LOT and I’ve subjected myself to a lot of social scenarios to build my real-life experience. I know how to collaborate and get along with all kinds of people, at all levels, and from different backgrounds. Being a female engineer in college and beyond, and having worked with solid waste engineers and landfill operators (predominantly old, white men) in the South, plus having my other work experiences in different industries and countries and whatever… I can fucking hold my own!

Long story short, what I had previously read as protective, I now view as territorial, competitive, and distrustful. As I have been trying to build connections and reach out to other departments across campus, she keeps reiterating our priorities and our own work. Not very collaborative. And worse than that, maybe she thinks she’s letting me in on the history/background of relationships, but it’s coming across like a ton of extraneous bullshit. And you know what? This paranoid and neurotic mentality reminds me an awful lot of my parents, with their constant warnings of danger and sabotage. I don’t live with those shit-colored lenses. I like to trust people and believe people, and you know what? I’m almost 40-fucking-years-old, and it has YET to burn me. That’s not to say, I’m a fucking oblivious dumbass, refusing to recognize potential risk and danger. I have awareness, but I’m not going to look for devious intentions unless I have reason to. So our conversation today surrounded one particular person in our office. He’s not popular, and multiple people have warned that he has self-serving intentions. Seriously, I could care less if other people are super ambitious in this workplace. Go for it. I have no movement up, and I could care less for me, but if you have the drive and interest, have at it! Anyway, I really felt like she was telling me who to like and who to dislike. I have my own interactions with people, and I make my own goddamn decisions. That’s not to dismiss what she has experienced and what she has witnessed for her… she can think whatever the fuck she wants, but don’t dictate how I ought to judge and characterize people. First of all, I have realized that other people and I frequently have different perceptions/attitudes/reactions. For example, while my parents would argue that so-and-so’s actions were done out of spite or jealousy or ill-will, I might not have read the scenario the same way. And I can say, so many times when I was growing up, my mother interpreted my actions to stem from x or y emotion. Maybe she was right in her assessment early on, when I was a child. But later, after I became an adult, my mother constantly applied those same filters to my behavior even when my intentions and motivations were completely different. It’s kind of like, once you decide you dislike someone, everything they do is then viewed with a negative lens. I feel like my boss has decided that she dislikes a bunch of people/departments/units at work. And no matter what, it’s as if I have to adopt her same read on those people. Sure, she might have legit reasons for feeling x about certain people. But don’t fucking insist that  I adopt your filters. And if it’s a loyalty issue, screw that. Loyalty, especially in the workplace, is dead. The only thing that I carry with me from one place to another is the quality of my work, my work ethic, my integrity, and my relationships. And I decide all of those things for me. Yeah, can you tell I’ve been bullied in my past? This shit is a deal. breaker.

But whatever. Like an adult, I am trying to calm the fuck down bc yes, my boss is supportive, and yes, she has championed me in the past. Her style just is NOT my style. But heck, she’d better tone it the hell down, bc I’ve been listening to all this poison for eight months, and it’s really testing my patience.

Sunday Funday

Before John left for his trip, I had fully intended to have a very packed and busy next three weeks. In my head, every weekend was going to be scheduled out with social activities, plus biking, singing, music, wining and dining, etc. Well, now I’m two weeks in, and I’ve actually been rather anti-social, opting instead to spend more time at home with Marty. He’s doing ok, but there have definitely been some days where his appetite was nonexistent and he just looked really off. That said, I still tried to get out of the house somewhat: I visited with J&J over July 4, did the Ninja Warrior gym thing with M, had dinner recently with T, and then lunch with D… so a decent amount of human interaction. Just not as much as I had originally planned. But it’s all good.

Last night, I watched that movie “He’s Just Not Into You.” I love watching relationship movies, esp on my own, bc I can overanalyze and overthink every little detail. The movie has a ton of stars in it, and it isn’t spectacular or a masterpiece by any means, but I still came away with some learning points (of course). After the movie, Marty and I debriefed with a discussion. 😉

Speaking of Marty, he finished up his antibiotics last Monday, July 6. Since then, he’s been far less consistent. He got sick of eating chicken, so over the weekend, I switched over to ground beef. I’m still trying to give him other nutrients by mixing in some sweet potato, but he’s been spitting that crap out. Picky bastard. Yesterday, I pressure cooked the crap out of the yams and now they are totally mashed in with the meat. Two can play at this game, Marty. I want to make sure he gets enough calories, bc we gotta keep the pounds on.

Meanwhile, I got sucked into a PBS show yesterday afternoon about Haylie Pomroy’s Fast Metabolism Diet. I’d never heard about this program before but I got all inspired, so I downloaded a few freebie kindle books on it, and what the heck: let’s give this a go! Yup, I’m getting back on a program or two or three! Haha. Last night I also reinstated my sleep program and pulled out all the goods: Sleepy Time tea,  lavender essential oil, melatonin, zinc, and Meditation Oasis. Unfortunately, I think the tea tree oil/moisturizer mix I used (to improve my complexion) totally thwarted my sleep efforts, bc tea tree oil also energizes and awakens. Damnit. Yeah, I went to bed before 11, but I didn’t zonk out until after 1. Oh well, try again tonight.

But back to the FMD. Today, I went to the store and bought sprouted bread for the first time ever. WTF is this shit? I have no idea, but this early on, don’t ask questions: just follow the damn directions. So I picked up some other products I don’t ever buy, including rice milk, turkey sausage, and egg whites. Interestingly, I think my parents are on some version of this FMD, bc some of the shit sounded familiar (especially eating fruit within 30 min of waking up). Anyway, after combing through the e-books, I think my biggest challenge will be no dairy. I mean, we’ll see. I know, it’s only Day 1, and I’m going to try my best to follow the plan, but I also believe in moderation. It’s not like I’m trying to drop 20-40 lbs or whatever, so let’s not go totally bat shit crazy. My goal is to try and eat healthier so I feel more energetic.

What else. My favorite accomplishment from the weekend? I busted out my Rollerblades! Fuck man, I’d forgotten how much fun it is to cruise around on wheels. I took Marty next door to the park/elementary school, and after a while, he got tired and just plopped down under a tree. But that didn’t stop me. I continued zooming around on the blacktop. There’s a shit ton of debris out there, and the pavement is definitely rougher than my old skating stomping grounds (corporate parking garage with ultra smooth concrete), but hell, we’ll work with what we have. Time to make this a weekly activity!

Ok, well it’s been three hours since my last snack. Time for my FMD dinner: grain, veggie, fat/protein. Let’s try this sprouted bread.

The Pointlessness of Worrying

I had another epiphany this week. I learned from my father that my mother’s parents are selling their townhome back East. Remember how I was super irritated with my mother several weeks ago, bc she kept insisting that my grandparents would eventually return to living on their own? That convo was followed by several weeks of debate where my father basically tried to tell the grandparents and mom that the best next move was to sell the house. My father was exasperated, bc the other three just kept insisting that the decrepit, rat poop-infested place was a “treasure.” So I called my grandparents to broach the difficult subject. I tried to ask them why they were hesitating with moving back to Taiwan… I don’t know if my conversation had any sway or if they just got sick of debating with my father, but now we are finally at the point of getting reno bids, and the tenants have been notified. My father’s plan is to move Yeb and Nai to Taiwan before September. Anyway, at some point in the last month, I made a choice to just let go of all the excessive worrying. And now, thankfully, there is some unexpected progress and movement.

At home, Marty’s been super on and off in the last week. Then on Friday, J and his brother-in-law started their cross-country adventure. Previously, I had been stressing out big time thinking about how I was going to administer Marty’s daily fluids solo (he squirms a lot), how I was going to get him to eat, and what I would do if things got worse, yada, yada. I mean, I AM a worry wart. In my defense, I think it’s part and parcel with being a planner. In order to have a solid plan, you have to anticipate the future. Needless to say, I was seriously wearing myself down with all the catastrophic over-thinking. One boil on my face suddenly turned into three, I couldn’t sleep, I was crying every day, and I just felt my mind spiraling. That’s when I knew I had to save myself. I was falling into an abyss, and this shit was getting out of control.

So J and I talked about Marty. He said he trusted me to make the call when it was necessary. I don’t think a decision like that can ever be 100% clear, but I do have confidence that I will throw in the towel when I need to. I will be completely heartbroken, but I can and have made the decision in the past. Next, I need to really focus on staying calm and testing out a few other food options for Marty. Previously, J had been doing all the cooking (Marty no longer eats commercial foods), but there were a few other items I’d read about that I wanted to try. I dedicated this first weekend alone to gathering all the supplies.

The third area is work. I know I’m not happy enough at work to stay on super long term (social media is exhausting), so I want to start getting back on the networking wagon… time to tap into my exroverted, social self and refresh those old contacts again. Gotta do what you gotta do!

So yeah, the key note to self this week? I need to stop letting myself feel overwhelmed by everything. All that worry about my grandparents: my parents are handling it, and extra worry doesn’t do anything, so I have to stop. Help where I can and then focus on other things I have to do. And Marty is going to have good days and bad days. I have to be better about rolling with the punches and riding out the waves. Thankfully, since Friday, Marty has been doing amazing. The daily sub-q fluids plus appetite stimulant seem to help. Maybe the antibiotics are also aiding to kill that bladder infection, and he is feeling better? I tried some new foods: baby food, chicken thigh, red potatoes, cottage cheese, applesauce… some work, some don’t. I have also added fish oil and B-50 complex to his meals. In the last two days, he has been running at the park even. 

I also caught a break with Martin’s lactated ringer fluids. I talked to the pharm tech about my troubles getting the supplies online (vet charges $30/bag vs. $10/bag online), and her manager actually offered to price match six bags!! So for the time being, that buys me another 24 days and then I can deal with the online shop later. What a welcome relief and a very nice customer servicey thing to do!

Beyond all that, I’m trying to get back with the self-care: nails, teeth-whitening, skincare, diet, SLEEP. That’s the good thing about Bubbey being away: I can spend some time and energy getting myself back on track.

Managing Sadness

Holy shit, another week is over already. It’s Ramadan, Father’s Day, and Summer Solstice. Yup, I only keep up with those holidays bc well, I’m still saving lives with social media and all. Haha.

Last week was mostly good for Marty. J made him chicken soup and with the daily sub-cutaneous fluids therapy, his appetite started coming back. Mind you, he’s still been picky as fuck, but at least he was ingesting stuff. Because of his progress, we decided to skip ONE day (Wednesday) with the fluids. OMFG, I thought he was going to die the next day. On Thursday, he was so lethargic, he barely even got up. By evening, J and I started panicking and I had another cryfest meltdown. We immediately resumed the fluids, and thankfully, the next day (Friday), things began looking up again. I was still feeling really sad though, just wondering about the fluids management and stressing about J being away for his cross-country trip. Goddamn that catastrophic thinking; it’s enough to KILL me. On Friday late morning, my boss came into my office to tell me about some new data visualization software. I had been crying. Thirty seconds in, with her blurting out a bunch of stuff, she stopped to ask, “Is everything ok? What’s wrong?” And just like that, I lost it again. Fucking emotions, man. Fortunately, she was very kind. Later, J sent me a pic of Marty mid-day and he looked so much better, so I felt better. I swear I need to gain some frickin’ emotional stability.

I was so glad for this weekend. I caught up on some sleep and pulled myself together a little. J made a new batch of food for Marty; we also went to the vet to get more fluids supplies plus some appetite stimulant meds N recommended. I also purchased some additional brands of dry and wet kidney diet foods. I swear, I feel so stressed when Marty doesn’t eat. He’s always been super food driven, so to see him have zero interest or to see him just spit everything out all over the floor is exasperating. But yesterday, we started with the new drug and holy crap, I haven’t seen him eat like this in forever. He even chowed down on the new kidney food. I dunno. I’m relieved that the drug is getting him to eat again, but I’m still wary about overworking his system and kidneys with TOO much food. It’s a weird balance with way more trial and error than I’m used to.

Yesterday, Bubbey and I tried to do something “fun” for the weekend. We went to see Inside Out. Pixar is always brilliant. I really identified with the Sadness character. But I also was reminded of just how dangerous sadness can be. It has the power to negate and erode all good memories. It’s like a fucking contagion.

This morning, I called my father for Father’s Day. Ho hum, woe is I, blah, blah, sigh, sigh. It’s exhausting. My whole family: they don’t do anything; just stay at home and watch tv. I mean, my father stays somewhat busy managing his properties and dealing with tenant demands and chores and errands (he even tries to do minor handyman shit himself), but Jesus Christ: no fucking joy. His life is joyless. I really don’t know what to do. It takes all the energy in the world NOT to blow up at him and just say, “Do SOMEthing.” Stop being depressed. Stop thinking about ALL the things in your life that disappoint you. For fuck’s sake, save yourself. That’s what I feel and think, but that’s NOT what I say bc well, depression is some real shit. And not everyone responds to that whole “Pull yourself up by the bootstraps” kind of messaging. But goddamn, that’s what I want to say to so many people around me, including myself. Save yourself, people. Please.

In other news, I’m developing a monster boil on my chin. Maybe I’ll just give myself zinc poisoning again with all this desperation. On the bright side, Martin IS eating again. This appetite stimulant mirtazapine is some crazy ass shit. We’re taking a super small dosage too, like 8 mg, and he is eating like a football player. Sigh. Focus on the good. Focus on the things I can change.

sadness