AND THEN...SHE WENT COMPLETELY OFF HER LITTLE NUT

Today I had an appointment at Advent in South Bend to get a sleep study scheduled. My family doc is convinced that everything that's wrong with me is related to obstructive sleep apnea, so she wants a test to confirm this diagnosis.

(For the record...this is where she sent the referral. I'm not too sure I would have gone this route, but I guess there comes a point when I have to trust her...right?)

I've had two previous sleep studies...one in a sleep center and one at home. The first was an unmitigated disaster because I never fell asleep, despite the technician coming over the speaker hollering at me every ten minutes to "CLOSE YOUR EYES AND GO TO SLEEP". The second was uneventful and conducted in the friendly confines of the big girl sleigh bed. Neither revealed anything.

I do know, however, that I snore loud enough to rattle the windows, and with weight gain it gets worse, so I kinda sorta see where she's going. I have, very much indeed, come awake gasping for breath in the middle of the night, and I'm sleepy enough during the day that I can fall asleep standing up...so OK...let's do a sleep study.

Raise your hand if you've ever taken your car in for an oil change and the guy comes out with a clipboard containing a list of crap that you REALLY SHOULD GET DONE and that it just so happens that they're running a special on this or that doohickey that your car REALLY NEEDS, and then there's the insinuation that if you don't opt in for the $600 air filter or the $700 timing belt or the bazillion dollar whatever thingamagig they are trying so hard to sell you, that driving one more mile without this crap will result in certain death.

Yup.

That was this appointment today.

I've calmed down a bit, but I have to tell you...I have never been more disappointed in a medical facility in my life. A hard sell at a doctor's office? When did this start? I've been to used car dealers and felt less pressured! 

I got the sleep study scheduled, but I am already dreading the return appointment to get the results when they try to sell me more stuff.

Again...I went there because my doctor wants a sleep study. But in the course of a fifteen minute appointment, the nurse practitioner did a scope of my nose (which I didn't want and should have just flat out refused), told me I have serious malformation of my left nasal passage, prescribed antibiotics for an infection I don't have, told me I needed a CT, and suggested that I needed a balloon angioplasty of the sinuses. She also told me to start using a nasal rinse (which they just happen to sell there), and then told me that when they got the results of the sleep study and was diagnosed with apnea, that there was no way I was going to tolerate a CPAP, and would probably need an oral appliance instead that costs $4,000. 

Somehow I came to my senses as she kept going on and on and on, and I basically interrupted her and said "Let's just get the sleep study done for now, and I will check with my transplant team about all of this other stuff" and that was the end of the consultation.

Now I'm just feeling a little sick to my stomach, because I made the mistake of reading online reviews of this place, and almost every single one of them mention exorbitant charges, insurance issues, and the fact that after very similar experiences to mine, people received bills for thousands of dollars.

Damnit, Gumby. 

Sometimes it's just not easy being me.

(On Page Two, by the way, we have my Gastroenterologist who basically shrugs his shoulders and says "Eh...you've got reflux" and on Page Three, we have my IU Transplant Nephrologist who says "Lose weight".)

(Meanwhile....I actually think I know what's wrong with me. I think I have a carcinoid tumor or carcinoid syndrome, because if you plug my symptoms and last year's issues into Google they are a 100% match.)

(I'm just posting this, by the way, so that when they finally figure it out and prove me right I can get all smug and self-satisfied and have TOLD YA engraved on my tombstone.)

I'm tired, Dearies. And I'm frustrated and terrified and sad and mad and...at the end of my damn rope. I am walking around screaming like a banshee at Rich and I swear if one more thing goes wrong I might not come back from it. Nobody is listening to me, I'm seriously starting to feel like the World's Biggest Hypochondriac, and if I could find the gas money I would get in my car and point it in the direction of either the Cleveland Clinic, Mayo Clinic, or Dr Weil's Center for Integrative Medicine.

OK.

Enough.

I'll get it together...I promise. I know that I just need to calm down and have faith and know that all will be well eventually, so I really appreciate you putting up with my nonsense. I'm going to go offline for a bit and just...be. I think a few days of stitching and reading and diamond painting and praying and watching Ted Lasso. All of these things might be better for me than this constant state of panic I'm in trying to fix myself and the doomscrolling that I do all night long because I'm terrified to fall asleep because I'll suffocate to death in the middle of the night.

Thank you for the love and prayers and notes and comments and...everything. I'll be back soon...hopefully better and back to myself.

AND THEN...SHE WAS ALMOST NORMAL AGAIN

 

First up...a diamond painting finish. This was the kit that prompted me to start diamond painting in the first place, I think. I seem to remember that it popped into my Instagrams and I thought "I should try that".

I'm so glad I did.

I honestly don't know what came over me yesterday, but after my second cup of damn good, I decided to try to push myself to "just do one thing" and change the sheets on the bed.

Before I knew what hit me, I had not only done that, I had cleaned the entire apartment to within an inch of its life and did about seven loads of laundry to boot.

(Yowsa.)

I managed to get a long hot shower completed before the water heater decided to fritz out (emergency maintenance technician Robert reassured me that it was a good thing I called him), and I spent the rest of the night watching YouTube videos about the Philadelphia Mob with JB while Robert putzed and futzed about in the utility closet, declared that it was unfixable, and turned off the gas and water "just to make sure nothing blew up".

(Well, that's reassuring.)

(They'll be here Monday to fix it.)

(Good thing I got that shower!)

So by the time I put my head on the pillow last night I said a teary thank you to BG* for helping me get so much accomplished, and I fell into what I hoped would be a good long sleep.

Nope.

In addition to everything else, I have started waking up two or three times a night unable to breathe, which then causes me to have awful panic attacks that "roll" throughout the day. I just can't breathe, Dearies, and if you know anything about me, you know that not being able to breathe is second only to being buried alive on my list of things that are in my NO THANK YOU column.

Then, just to make sure I'm paying attention, my abdomen is distended and so sore across the middle that I feel like I've swallowed a bag of wet cement studded with push pins, my hair is falling out, my skin is so dry it's cracked and bleeding, I fall asleep with a needle in my hand, I've screamed so much at Rich that I caught him looking for an Exorcist yesterday, and my face turns bright red every night at 8pm and feels like it's on fire. (There are about ten more unpleasant things going on, but I'm going to spare you, since I really start to sound crazy when I talk about it.)

(Besides...boundaries.)

(She says while grinning maniacally.)

I've diagnosed myself with everything from colon cancer to a pituitary tumor, and I'm pretty sure that if I tried hard enough I could pass whatever test you need to pass to have MD after your name, thanks to my attendance at the Google Medical School. Meanwhile, I have seven doctors going in seven different directions, I have so many new and different drugs to try that I'm seriously waiting for the DEA to execute a warrant, and my Facebook algorithm has changed from stitching and book ads to nothing but miracle cures and Weight Watchers Ozempic subscription information.

The best part of all of this is that I stand in front of Stewey's little box of ashes every night with my hand on BellyBean and I say "Boys, Mommie is decidedly unwell, so I need you both to do the things that you do to watch over me and help me make it through the night so that I can get better, lose 150 pounds, get my eyebrows done, and go back to doing the things I love while simultaneously figuring out a way to be worthy of all of the blessings of my life, pay them forward, and make a big fat difference in some small way in this wonderful world we live in."

And then I crawl into bed and wait for the panic attacks to begin.

So that's what's going on over here in Crazyass Spinsterville.  In between telling myself not to die and making a pot of chili, I'm going to try to get back to stitching Alphabets today.

What's new with you?

REST IN PEACE, DEAR MISS JEAN

 

I never had the privilege of meeting Jean from Attic Needlework, but once upon a time a million years ago, before I was a stitcher, I visited her shop with my sister. I didn't understand it fully at the time, but entering that place felt like walking into a cathedral. 

Now that I am a stitcher, I see just how accurate I was in thinking that.

My prayer is for Jean's family and the needlework family. We've lost a giant. May her memory be a blessing.

A FUTZINGDAY UPDATE

 

Dearies, I miss my old Futzingdays of yore. 

Remember when Stewey and I would awaken on a Wednesday and await what shenanigans were upon us? I seem to remember always looking forward to the mid-week point of things, and even though nothing was ever accomplished it felt great to progress through one more day and get closer to a week's end.

I suppose I am melancholy because I have big hard serious scary stuff coming at me from all directions. Most of it is medical...some of it is just situational...but all of it is stuff that I just wish would either get here and go already or just take a big detour and leave me alone.

Dr Yaqub, my transplant nephrologist, will be here tomorrow to poke and prod, and I've got a list a mile long of questions and observations and requests for him. I'm pretty sure he'll just pay attention to the kidney parts and leave all of the other stuff to other specialists, but I have some small hope that he'll just grab the ball and play quarterback for a minute.

Sorry to dump and run. I just need a few happy thoughts flung my way if y'all have a minute. 

In the meantime...back to Alphabets I go!

WOW....WHERE WAS THIS ONE HIDING?

 So I got the bright idea to fish through my WiP basket, and look what popped out, jumped onto q-snaps, and hollered "Will you just finish me already!"

Stay tuned...I actually stitched for more than ten minutes last night! Updates forthcoming!

WEEKEND PLAN

 

I MISS THIS LITTLE GUY

 Bosco Oliver Willowswamp

Sept 20, 2005 - Jan 22, 2022

HELLO WINTER, MY OLD FRIEND

 

It's been a long time since it's been this cold in these here parts.  If you are similarly affected, please be safe and smart and take care of yourself today! I'm staying under my Snoopy blanket with damn good and some stitching!

34-23. DAMN.

 

GAME DAY...LET'S GO!

 

 

 

IN MY DELIRIUM...

OK, Dearies...bear with me, please. I awoke at 5am in the throes of a massive panic attack because I couldn't breathe, and it's been a day. It took me about two hours of fervent prayer, a hot steamy shower, and a small jar of Vick's vapo rub, but I somehow managed to get myself dressed and out the door to the ER.

And then I saw the dozens of people waiting within, and I decided to get to an Urgent Care instead.

(Good move, apparently, because when you are a cancer-surviving, Crohn's patient, kidney transplant recipient who's been sick for a year, they don't look at you sideways when you say "So sorry to be a bother, but I think I'm either dying or having a heart/asthma/panic attack.")

So I got a good once-over, and I am now armed with Mucinex and an inhaler, as well as instructions to push fluids, rest, and return if this has not started to get better in the next week or so.

(No covid or flu, thank God, and I really really felt much better about my visit when the nice doctor said "Miss Constance, you no longer have the luxury of thinking you're over-reacting. When something is amiss...no matter how seemingly insignificant...you need to get help immediately.")

So there.

OK. On to business. 

See this:

This is what's known as a "hanging wall".  In various establishments throughout the world, you can place an order for a coffee or a sandwich or a meal, etc and add a coffee or a sandwich or a meal, etc "for the wall. 

You basically pay for/donate a coffer, sandwich, meal, etc for someone who might come in who could use a coffee, sandwich, meal, etc, but doesn't have the means to do so.

So here's what I'd like to figure out....

How can we do this in our family for people who need a little help...or for a stitcher who has just lost everything....like in Los Angeles?

I realize that there are a lot of other things that victims of terrible things need to worry about, but what if in the midst of the worst possible time of their life they could walk into a stitching shop and get themselves a project, etc to help get them through?  What if in the midst of chaos, they saw a sign that said "It's OK, Friend We've got you."

I was the recipient of ENORMOUS generosity from this family, and I have been trying to figure out a way to pay it forward, so if anybody can guide me in a way to set this up without making a burden on a shop owner...I'd be super grateful.

I'll leave you with my latest diamond painting finish...

 Ciao for now. I hope you've had a wonderful Monday! Come tell me all about it!

WHY, YES BETTY....I AM GOING TO LEAVE THE DAMN CHRISTMAS TREE UP.

The ornaments are off and as soon as the amazon gets here tomorrow there will be a lovely snowflake-themed blanket/skirt at its base.

I have the damn flu, we haven't seen the damn sun in a month, and I need all of the damn comfort I can get right now.

So zip it, Betty....I'm going back to bed.

WELL, THAT WAS CONFUSING

Rich has come down with his annual PLAGUE, I am still completely wiped out from my vaccine shenanagins, and last night's Irish win has left me a bit...blurry...today.

Oh. And we're getting a bit of a winter out there in Hoosierville.

Sorry to confuse you in my post about getting both shots on the same day. My logic in getting both shots together is that I knew I would be really really really sick for two days. If I spaced them out, I would be less sick, but it would extend to four days. So my logic was to just grit through it for a shorter period of time.

(But considering that today is the third day after, and I am still sick, I guess my logic remains flawed.)

As for my Beloved...I suspect that this is a remnant from his cross-country trip home on the train. It seems like it happens every year, and even though I am concerned for his health and am doing my best to take care of him, if I catch whatever the h-e-double toothpicks he has...we're in trouble. 

(Ugh.)

So it's industrial strength Tylenol, lots of fluids, and gallons of disinfectant on board for us here at CS2, in addition to football, soup, and lots if stitching and dp'ing for Yours Truly. Here's a little progress:

The grid you see in the upper left corner of the diamond painting is the clear cover that protects the adhesive. I got a bit obsessive with finding scenes of "villages", so you might see a few more.

I have to say...when I went down this diamond painting rabbit hole, everybody said "You get what you pay for, so be careful". Well, I seem to have been super-duper LUCKY, because of all of the kits I've purchased, I managed to get really great ones for under ten bucks! 

(I guess this means that if I do get ahold of a complete dud, I won't be too upset about it!)

I seem to be stitching a bit more lately, so before I scare my needle mojo away I want to get a little bit further on the Carolyn Manning:

I will probably stick with one another day or two, and then I think I'll take a look in my WiP baskets to see if I can find a candidate for a first FeeNee of the year.

(Remember when I used to be so crazy nuts about schedules and finishes and rotations? What a difference seventeen years makes! Now, all I "worry" about is the sheer joy and peace that needle and thread bring to me. I guess I truly have become a PROCESS stitcher.)

(Finally.)

Well, Dearies, that does it for me this afternoon. After soup, I'm going to settle in to watch the game between Ohio State and Texas to see who our opponent will be on January 20th.

(Tonight is the last game of the College Football Playoffs. My Alma Mater, the University of Notre Dame, won their game last night against Penn State University. On January 20th, they will face the winner of tonight's game for the National Championship, so...I'm a bit invested.)

(I forget sometimes that there are Dearies here from places where college football isn't a thing, so pardon the explanation if you're stateside and already dialed in.)

(Also...the last time Notre Dame won the National Championship was during my Senior Year in 1988. They beat West Virginia in the Fiesta Bowl in Phoenix, and I happened to be there for it, since I was home for Christmas break. I should have graduated in May of '88, but took a leave after my mom died, thus graduating a year late. My dad's cousin Frank had four tickets on the 50-yard line and invited us to go, so my dad (Notre Dame Class of 1954) and I got to experience that together! I will never forget that night!)

So cheers, Dearies! I hope you are well and safe and doing something that brings you joy today. Come tell me all about it!

ATLANTA...HERE WE COME!

 

LET'S GO, IRISH!

 

SPINSTER LOGIC

Why did I get BOTH covid AND flu vaccines yesterday?

Because I'd rather be really really really sick for two days instead of just really really sick for four.

Ugh.

AT LEAST I'VE GOT THAT GOING FOR ME...WHICH IS NICE

Everything else on me is completely falling apart, but the meathooks are looking pretty spiffy, thanks to a new set of wraps. I still have a box full, thanks to the generosity of a fellow stitcher, as well as the stash of them that I accumulated over the years. These are called Pretty Paisley (I think), and hopefully they'll last a few weeks. 

(Lily and Fox is the brand name, Dearies. I have always had very good luck with them!)

Today was a doctor visit day, and tomorrow will be too. We're still no closer to knowing why my guts are running amok, but I have faith that all will be well again.

Eventually.

Time to get under the fuzzy blanket and stitch a bit. I'm switching back and forth between the Carolyn Manning and the big a$$ snowman today, but I might fish through my WiPs for a Sherpherd's Bush sampler.  I'm having a yen for one, and I think there are a couple of them in there.

Happy Monday! Is it just me, or does today feel like the beginning of the year?

SUNDAY SNOWMAN

 "Just pull out that snowman and finish him up", the idiot Spinster said to herself. "All that's left to do is his face and body, and then the arms will make this one a fast finish for the New Year".

I've been stitching this guy for three days with no end in sight! Remind me next time to RUN from anything requiring a huge block of solid stitching!

WHEW! ON TO THE ORANGE BOWL!

This is Fr Nate, the Chaplain of the Notre Dame football team:

Before every game Fr Nate gives each player a medal with a Saint on it. Each game has a different Saint, and after everything has been played on the field, Fr Nate posts all of the details about that week's medal, along with a photo of a player showing his medal:

For the Sugar Bowl, the Saint was St Sebastian. I have particular fondness for him, since I attended St Sebastian Grade School in Pittsburgh for a few years back in the 1970's.

Thank you, St Sebastian!

 

OK BOYS....LET'S GO!

 

QUIET, BUT LOVELY

I had a wonderful dinner, did some stitching and diamond painting, watched a couple of movies last night, and was in bed by 11:30.

(My better angels sent me to the big girl sleigh bed at a reasonable hour because I had to make an early morning trip to the train station to collect my Jersey Boy. Otherwise I would have donned my festive apparel and whooped it up like the crazy party animal I am and stayed up until 12:15.)

Dinner was a real treat...crab cakes, garlic mashed potatoes, asparagus, and an amazing chopped salad, followed by a white chocolate/cranberry cookie from Bonefish Grill. I allowed myself the indulgence, both spendy-wise and calorie-wise because I behaved myself over Christmas, as well as did a nice job cleaning and tidying during the day.

Totally worth it!

I watched The Other Boleyn Girl while stitching Carolyn Manning's Starstruck:

And then re-visited The Tudors while starting a new diamond painting of a village scene:

Tonight, my Irish will take on the Georgia Bulldogs in the Sugar Bowl down in New Orleans, but the fun of it has been marred by a madman. Notre Dame, Our Mother....pray for us.

So that's the report for the first day of 2025, Dearies! I'm going to settle in with some damn good and a little scroll this morning, and hope to grab a nice long nap before the game tonight. Happy New Year to you and yours...what's on your agenda for the day?

 

HAPPY NEW YEAR, DEARIES!

 

SUNDAY NIGHT SPINSTER BLISS

 

IN MY DEFENSE, I WAS LEFT UNSUPERVISED.

I'm trying to break bad patterns and establish good ones before the old year ends and the new one begins, so today finds me knee-deep in AREA NUMBER ONE...my stitching WiPs and stash. I have been terribly lax in my "just try to keep everything together in tidy categories" efforts, so as soon as I finished my third big cup of damn good this morning (*), I went head-first into the fray to try to distract myself from not feeling good.

After only two hours of sorting and futzing and futzing and sorting and belting out Elton John tunes with Alexa, I ended up with nicely separated piles that then fit very nicely into baskets and bins I already had on hand.

(Note to self: empty the damn amazon cart that you filled with baskets and bins last night.)

I sorted into three piles of WiPs: canvas, cross stitch, and Christmas, and then put all of my charts and things I've kitted up into three baskets for the cube room studio. I'll need to go through those and sort into seasons and misc, but for now they're put away:

Then, since I was already in there, I gathered and piled all of my project bags and Bitsy Bobs:

And after a LOT of grunting and sweating and sweating and swearing, I stuck all of my WiPs and all of Christmas behind my chair:

(Yes, Betty, I absolutely positively cannot stand how cluttered that looks, but unless you can make this apartment grow another ten feet of storage space, you're just gonna have to ZIP IT and learn to live with it.)

So now it's 4:00, and after I take a nice hot scrubby shower and eat some chicken and rice (**), I'm going to see what trouble I can get into with some Wintery-themed charts and Mill Hill kits that I found during my adventures today:

I hope you had a wonderful day, Dearies! Are you all blissfully unaware of what day it is like I am, or are you really good and keeping to your routines? Come tell me all about it!

(*) I'm trying to get my sleep/wake cycle back on a healthier schedule...in other words, getting out of bed at 8 or 9 am instead of 2 or 3 pm, so additional damn good has been necessary.

(**) On the tummy front, I'm sad to report that today was NOT a good day at all. The two biggest problems I'm having are awful screaming mimis that are keeping me very close to the powder room, and a painfully distended/bloated abdomen that feels like I've swallowed a beach ball full of thumb tacks and cement. Ugh. So baked chicken and a little rice for dinner it is.

SPINSTER CHRISTMAS BLISS 2024

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS, DEARIES!