Thrown for a Loop

Man, oh man have I been thrown for a loop and through the ringer. This stupid Crohn's flair-up that started early last year is still kicking me in the shorts. It is still like reliving 1996, at least this time it is without all the family drama. Well, OK there is family drama, but not like then! Here we are 25 days into the new year, our nation has a new leading man, I have a new job (OMG!!! Thank you to Laurie, Kenny and Terry!) and my GI tract is playing drama queen. My head feels better, even if my guts don't. I love my new job and and I am so fortunate to have it. I have my mucho-mucho needed infusion tomorrow morning, by Tuesday morning (better if tomorrow afternoon) will be ready to take the world by the horns.

Everyday I drive to work and home I give a verbal "Thank You!" to what ever powers that be. Karma, I am paying it forward! I do not care if the Tucson rush hour traffic thinks I am nuts for being happy. They can take the smile on my face and the thanks I have on their drive home everyday. Muhahahaaaa! I am making a fraction of what I have made in my previous employed lives, but I'm working. Have I mentioned how happy I am to have a job?

I am on the little sad side to miss Paul this weekend. While I am at home in Tempe, he is camping with the doggers and friends in the Superstition Springs Mountains. A big Trans-Supes 4 Day Adventure. It will be Daisy Mae's second camp trip and Mina's first. I look forward to hearing all about it. Any who, I am in the house and it is quiet with the occasion crazy cat action. I wanted to be here two days ago, but thought better to leave yesterday, to be incapable of getting out of bed all day. OK, I did make it out of my bed to the back of the house for the Clarabelle check and to the sofa to watch a movie. But that wasn't until sometime after 4. I was able to get down and keep down some rice, jello and toast. They must have given me the gumption to get on the road today, 2 days late. Poor Zelda had been without her pill crazy pill and was a touch manic when I pulled into the driveway.

Being chronically ill and having animals around all the time can be a bit off putting. I love the companionship. I love the unconditional love (with the exception of Clarabelle's mood swings and biting issues, but I have grown to accept those. So, I care for a cat with falconer gloves? What's wrong with that?). The part that unnerves me is the sitting vigil. Like they are waiting for me to explode? Implode? Die? Burst into flames? What? What am I going to do? I was stoned to the gills on my various anti-thises and anti-thats meds with Clarabelle curled at my stomach, Pepper (Mom's brainless cat) at my feet and Bridgette at the bedroom door. I slept in one position for a few hours and not one cat or dog moved. To be honest, come dinner time the dog had different priorities and abandoned me for the length of a can of Mighty Dog, but returned to her post. Poor Katie Scarlet was at the other end of the house making sure my bed didn't fly off to outer space in case I should return for another nap. She read me the riot act when I came to bed after the movie. Honestly, I do not know where I would be without my kids. Tonight, who will be my companion in bed? D'Eggo for sure. Zelda more than likely. Possibly Casper, too. There isn't enough room for all of them and me. Good thing the sofa will not be covered in dogs in case I need some sleep.

Tomorrow is my infusion and I will need to be sure to have the next one scheduled sooner than the typical eight weeks. I do not like the fact I have fallen so far from healthy. I have not been able to run or even walk far. I move about the house like Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. Not pretty at all. I hope I can make it six weeks. I think I will have a hissy fit if I need it every four weeks. And so what if I do? I will be the picture of health sooner, not later. 'Cuz let me tell you: "This blows."

Thanks for listening!