It wasn't a Halloween spider...

Do you remember that Bare Naked Ladies song that had a line-- "There's a spider in the room?". If not, that's reasonable. It was a song far into the album and definately not one of the popular songs. Anyway-- last night that line became, "There's a spider in my bed..."
Seriously.
I went to move a pillow so I could snuggle in under the covers and there is was- a giant eat-your-face spider right in the middle of my mattress. I am not ashamed to say that I screamed.
Then ran into the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel, squished that spider and promptly had to change my sheets. And those spider sheets could not stay in my room. No way, Jose! I had to go outside to the laundry and stuff them into the washer for prompt washing in the morning.
And of course, as I walked into the laundry area, I walked into a spider web! It was dark and I had on a dark sweatshirt, so I have no idea if the spider landed on me or what. shivers...
At that point, I started to strip and threw the clothes in the same wash and ran inside to wash off any potential spiders. Blech! I really, really hope no one was watching!
I have now learned that I must actually make my bed each and everyday. At least if the bed is made, the spiders will not be on my sheets.
Ugh!

Disease: unknown

In my ever-present fight against my random disease, today I had a check in the win column. Well, sort of.
Let me explain.
I am not a passive person. I'm not mean, but have been told that I am direct and honest. I blame my parents. ;) Actually I don't think it's a bad thing. I mean sure I may have hurt some feelings here and there, but no permanant damage done. I'm generally nice, even in my bluntness.
This non-passive part of my personality plays a huge part in my disease-fighting adventure. And I call it an adevnture because it is ever-changing. You never know what's going to happen, so everyday is an adventure.
The latest as I have posted about previously, is that I've had what I will call some episodes that have basically flat-llined me for a day. And then again for another day. Days where I thought I could die because I hurt so much. Days where I could not function like a normal person of my age. Uncool.
I discussed those days with my current bone ologist and she didn't respond in a way that I felt was okay. Not knowing is okay. My disease is very hard to understand. And it's not just her. I have been called a walking science experiment more times than I care to admit and she referred to my stuff as just weird. Perplexing. Odd. None of those things is what a patient wants to hear, but it's my normal.
Following my last appointment, I made the choice to seek out another opinion. Someone new to look at all the bloodwork and the symptoms and my case. He has an incredible reputation and specializes in autoimmune conditions. Super!
As of today the old bone ologist is fired (the non-passive part of me). While she's nice, I found someone I like better. Whom I think may actually do a better job in my treatment.
Although no major changes were made and no definitive diagnosis was made- he gave me some options. And threw out some possibilities.
In fact today I found out that the wrinkles appearing around my eyes and forehead (thanks, papa!) are a good, good thing. If they weren't there he was headed down a rather sacry possible path. Score one for wrinkles!
He also checked out my Grandma Schulte knees and said while some of the shape may be genetic, there is actually something wrong. Something to fix.
And although he didn't have answers or solutions today, he provided the thing that has been missing for awhile: Hope.
Hope that a new medication may stop the degeneration of my bones.
Hope that someday there will be a morning I won't wake up stiff and swollen.
Hope that someday my normal will be more aligned with others my age.
Hope.
It's a little word that has so much meaning. A word and feeling I am glad to have back in my life.

Six words this week.

Today while researching a school paper, I came across this random project called the Six-word Memoir. As a person who probably uses more words than she should, I thought this might be a random new weekly theme to add to this space. So starting today, each Monday I'll post my six word memoir for the week.

This week-- Can I hide under the covers?

Dr. Funk

This past week I was in Phoenix for some last minute event work and details. Things like parades and presidential visits really impact my event and event plans, so I sometimes need to revert to Plan G (progressing from Plan A). Throughout this year of planning three detailed events on my own (not overseeing, but being responsible for the whole kit and caboodle), I have learned to really roll with the punches and take things one day at a time. In the past I would be stressed to the max because pieces were out of place. (I am a little anal when it comes to the planning and details of my events.) This year, with so much on my plate, I have learned to not stress quite as much. To come to the table prepared but with the knowledge that things will definately not be the way I want them to be. Sometimes those changes are good, other times, they are just frustrating.

Along with the ability to be less stressed, I am including real life into my world. Making time for myself and to spend time with people I love and laugh with has been a huge help to keeping my stress level lower than anticipated. The event will happen and the groundwork I have done will ensure that even Plan G will be just fine. Walkers will enjoy themselves, sponsors will get what they need and my co-workers won't have too difficult of a time with the detials.

This past week I worked hard and negotiated and mapped things out, and ended up frustrated. In the midst of the crazy, I had some fun with a few favorites (old favorites). I didn't put the message out to many that I was in town because I knew I would have lots of work to be done and more than an hour for dinner was not an option. But on Friday night, I met some good friends for a breather. I couldn't take the word no anymore...it was getting heartbreaking. And schools and businesses aren't open after 6pm. There was not a whole lot of urgent work that could be done. So, I met friends at a new place. We were celebrating a belated birthday, a completed event season (not for me...) and the freedom from braces. We all got an adult beverage. I opted for a fun, fruity drink called Dr. Funk. It seemed fitting since I was in a bit of a funk. This is what the beverage was served in---

BEST GLASS EVER!

I mean, for real. How super fun and HILARIOUS is that guy? Instantly, the day improved. Laughter came more easily and I relaxed. The good pals I was dining with were definately part of that change in perspective, but Dr. Funk definately played a role!

Dr. Funk came home with me and housed my morning coffee. It was a dreary, rainy, and dark morning today but not in my house. I had a mug with a foo-man chu! Happy Monday!

Alone at last...

Last night was the first night in two years that the men in my life did not join me.

Now before you start to think I am some scandalous lady who writes about activities on a blog that her grandmother reads...the "men" I speak of are the rubberbands named Louie, Greg and Roger that I have had to wear with the braces.

Louie has been with me since almost day one. I would like to say I'll miss him, but I won't. Not even a little bit.

Maybe that makes me a heartbreaker, but I don't care. When it comes to those three, goodbye could not come fast enough!

Before my appointment on Wednesday I threw all those little packets away. And took the trash out. No more. No thanks.

That said, those three are tricky and like any great love in your life even after a break-up, little reminders will come around to try to get you back. And there are sure to be little Louie's, Roger's and Greg's floating around.

But I have nowhere to wear them now....Hooray!

Adidos, boys! Forever.

Sunday Funday

Today is Sunday. I used to really dislike Sundays. For some reason, I always feel Sunday is a "family" day and it's been several years since I've lived near my family. Not that we ever did much on Sundays--other than church in the morning. Otherwise, the day was spent doing chores, helping do some sort of yardwork, nothing notable or miss-able really.

Since moving to Seattle my dislike of Sundays has changed. Aside from the fact that it means I go back to work tomorrow, I actually enjoy Sundays. It means the market is in full effect-- flowers for sale, food trucks to experience, and generally incredible people-watching. No matter what--there is always something to do.

Most weekends I am in my proper home, I start out with no plans but end up enjoying the day either alone or with various pals.

Last week, I discovered and wondered around in a new part of town as I was passing some time between meeting friends for brunch and then some other friends for dinner. This week, I woke up late and had a lazy morning and ended up having a random adventure with two (and surprise a third) favorite. It was a randomly fun day filled with good people.

I think my dislike of Sundays has officially been squashed.

a change of plan.

Do you have days when nothing major was supposed to happen and you planned to get a whole bunch of little things done, but then things come up to change the scope of the day? (well that was a run-on sentence...anyway) Today was that day for me. Last night I had a hard time falling asleep because my mind was full. I decided to get out of bed and make a list to try to put my mind at ease.
This morning I woke up to a very full list and had every intention of completing it. Well, a few things came up that changed the game. Some collegues needed some help. Which is no big thing. But the things they needed help with were some brainstorms and troubleshooting. As we discussed solutions to the issues, I found my stride. I was super happy for no real good reason. I was having fun.
In these very different conversations, I stepped back into my previous Manager role. It's been so long since I have used that part of my brain and my skills.
This sounds arrogant, but I was (am) good at that part of my job. I miss it. As I was trying to figure out why I was so happy about my "successful" day and yet still had a 2 page to-do list in front of me, I realized that kind of teamwork and trouble-shooting is what I miss in my current role. That part of my work really fulfilled something in me. It was fun.
It also helped to show me what exactly it is about my new (well as of last year) role that feels incomplete.
Today I was accomplished even if I still have a two page to-do list to tackle.