My 15 year old has been having dizzy episodes. It all started during her soccer game on Saturday afternoon. Another one came later that evening when she was hanging out with friends. None on Sunday. At soccer practice on Monday, another. Two on Tuesday and now, two on Wednesday. So far.
We've been to the Dr and the bloodwork came back normal. Today we're waiting on the results of the MRI from this morning.
The waiting is hard. It's also getting harder to come up with solutions that sound good.
First we thought, dehydration. Then blood sugar issues. A sinus infection. A virus of some sort. Now we've moved on to things that are either scary or worse, although diabetes is somehow a comforting thought. Not that diabetes is a happy diagnosis, but it's way better than a brain tumor or a leaky blood vessel.
Doc called, the MRI was normal. So we move on... She is now wearing a "holter monitor" that will chart her heart rhythm over the next 24 hours. I guess we're making progress. At least my "dizzy" blonde has a normal brain scan.
Janice Arrowood
Hoping for Diabetes © 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Cleaning the pond
I should really write a book about our goldfish. I'll spare you the details for now, but we put them in an outdoor pond last summer. They survived the winter, thanks to Pete's "gift" of a pond de-icer, and now it's time to do the spring cleanout.
I will point out at this point that I did not ever want goldfish, but I am their primary caregiver. So cleaning out the pond appears to be another of my jobs. Job 1 is getting the pump/filter running. The job description of the "stay at home" Mom is ever changing.
Last week I removed the de-icer and plugged in the pump/filter. Lovely green water spurted out until it didn't anymore. Then I pulled the pump/filter out of the pond and cleaned it out. So we have flow now. Job 2 is to get rid of green water.
Yesterday I "bucketed" out about 20 gallons of green water and then topped off with clean water. The plan is to do this daily until I can see the fish. I suppose I could catch all the fish and empty the whole pond but I tried that yesterday and only caught two very small guys, the other 8 eluding me in the murk. The good news is that the two I caught seem to be healthy, with no sign of "ick" (fin and tail rot is the official name).
Meanwhile I've got to work on how to keep the water clean and that seems to mean installing a UV filter. SO I've got to determine my pump throughput to see if it a) is sufficient for the pond as it is and b)if I need a bigger one if I hook a UV filter into the flow... Thank goodness for the internet is all I can say. It may take me til May to sort it all out even with the internet.
The mailman stopped by to see what I was doing yesterday. He was mildly amused, watching me bucket out water and then pour it through a net to make sure I wasn't going to throw out a fish with the dirty water. And it is really nasty water, though the bushes in the yard seem to enjoy it. Talk about real fish emulsion fertilizer... Score one for fertilizing on the cheap!
Cleaning the Pond © 2009
Janice Arrowood
I will point out at this point that I did not ever want goldfish, but I am their primary caregiver. So cleaning out the pond appears to be another of my jobs. Job 1 is getting the pump/filter running. The job description of the "stay at home" Mom is ever changing.
Last week I removed the de-icer and plugged in the pump/filter. Lovely green water spurted out until it didn't anymore. Then I pulled the pump/filter out of the pond and cleaned it out. So we have flow now. Job 2 is to get rid of green water.
Yesterday I "bucketed" out about 20 gallons of green water and then topped off with clean water. The plan is to do this daily until I can see the fish. I suppose I could catch all the fish and empty the whole pond but I tried that yesterday and only caught two very small guys, the other 8 eluding me in the murk. The good news is that the two I caught seem to be healthy, with no sign of "ick" (fin and tail rot is the official name).
Meanwhile I've got to work on how to keep the water clean and that seems to mean installing a UV filter. SO I've got to determine my pump throughput to see if it a) is sufficient for the pond as it is and b)if I need a bigger one if I hook a UV filter into the flow... Thank goodness for the internet is all I can say. It may take me til May to sort it all out even with the internet.
The mailman stopped by to see what I was doing yesterday. He was mildly amused, watching me bucket out water and then pour it through a net to make sure I wasn't going to throw out a fish with the dirty water. And it is really nasty water, though the bushes in the yard seem to enjoy it. Talk about real fish emulsion fertilizer... Score one for fertilizing on the cheap!
Cleaning the Pond © 2009
Janice Arrowood
Monday, April 13, 2009
Waiting for Sudafed
It's pollen season in my town and the tree pollen has been off the charts lately, which is bad news for me. I'm am stuffed up better than a turkey on Thanksgiving. I just sent my husband out to buy Sudafed. I had to give him the educational explanation for why he has to buy it directly from the Pharmacist. Probably only mothers know that you have to show id and sign a log to buy pseudophedrine.
My husband was impressed that I knew it was a primary ingredient in methamphetamine and that it's a controlled substance. I had to explain that they sell stuff that sounds like Sudafed over the counter on the shelves but it's useless stuff for the most part - at least for me. Only the real thing works on my pre-sinus infection congestion.
It is my most frustrating challenge as an allergy sufferer, to find over the counter drugs that actually work. The "old" children's chewable Benedryl was great stuff. The kids would get one tablet and I could dose myself based on how bad my symptoms were; but it's gone now. The "old" Alka Seltzer Cold medicine was amazing. The new formula is pretty much worthless. And there is something pharmacists try to sell you as "like" psuedophedrine, but it says right on the box that it's not psuedophedrine and believe me - it doesn't work like psuedophedrine either.
The DEA wouldn't need to exist if they would just give mothers the addresses of all the possible "meth" makers out there. Believe me, at this minute I could make them all squirm for making my life so complicated.
Waiting for Sudafed © 2009
Janice Arrowood
My husband was impressed that I knew it was a primary ingredient in methamphetamine and that it's a controlled substance. I had to explain that they sell stuff that sounds like Sudafed over the counter on the shelves but it's useless stuff for the most part - at least for me. Only the real thing works on my pre-sinus infection congestion.
It is my most frustrating challenge as an allergy sufferer, to find over the counter drugs that actually work. The "old" children's chewable Benedryl was great stuff. The kids would get one tablet and I could dose myself based on how bad my symptoms were; but it's gone now. The "old" Alka Seltzer Cold medicine was amazing. The new formula is pretty much worthless. And there is something pharmacists try to sell you as "like" psuedophedrine, but it says right on the box that it's not psuedophedrine and believe me - it doesn't work like psuedophedrine either.
The DEA wouldn't need to exist if they would just give mothers the addresses of all the possible "meth" makers out there. Believe me, at this minute I could make them all squirm for making my life so complicated.
Waiting for Sudafed © 2009
Janice Arrowood
Monday, April 6, 2009
Tired of Politics
I'm not quite sure where to start. It began for me a long time ago, this frustration when confronted with tirade after tirade from television "pundits". It continued when these same people's words began arriving in my email inbox. I bet you've received one. Or a thousand. The email is meant well, from a friend or neighbor with an entry line that reads something like, "Thought this was interesting." The following text usually includes a letter that's passed through about a hundred other email addresses and seems like it's written by a good American, but then somewhere you'll see the words of evil right or left wing talking heads. Sometimes the words are clearly shown to be from a particular person.
Election time was a fruitful time for these nasty missives, and for awhile I tried to fact check them and notify those who sent them to me of what was valid and what wasn't. But it wore me out and I decided to ignore them, figuring they'd go away after the election.
Anyway, I reached the critical mass with political words last week. It may have had something to do with the 100 soccer emails I had to read and write due to the abundance of rained out practices and games, and the clutter of junk in my inbox. My poor neighbor caught the worst of it, when I wrote her back saying I was happy to get her jokes and educational tidbits but could she please stop sending me political opinion pieces. What I wanted to say was "if I want to read Dick Morris' opinion I'll go look for it", but I tried to be kind. I do love my neighbor.
So several very quiet days went by. I feared I'd hurt her feelings. I debated whether I'd gone to far. Yesterday we spoke from one back deck to the other, and I got an earful of opinion, which is fine. Because it wasn't Dick Morris speaking to me.
And it's not just Dick Morris, it's also James Carville and a whole host of others. It just seems to me that so many of these people only get a paycheck if they are extreme; so extreme they are. I admit, I'd rather our government not have to do many of the things it is doing right now, but I don't think there is a lot of wiggle room for nipping this economic crisis in the bud. President Obama has barely been in office two months. Anyone saying ugly things about his policies already is clearly more focused on themselves than our country.
Tired of Politics © 2009
Janice Arrowood
Election time was a fruitful time for these nasty missives, and for awhile I tried to fact check them and notify those who sent them to me of what was valid and what wasn't. But it wore me out and I decided to ignore them, figuring they'd go away after the election.
Anyway, I reached the critical mass with political words last week. It may have had something to do with the 100 soccer emails I had to read and write due to the abundance of rained out practices and games, and the clutter of junk in my inbox. My poor neighbor caught the worst of it, when I wrote her back saying I was happy to get her jokes and educational tidbits but could she please stop sending me political opinion pieces. What I wanted to say was "if I want to read Dick Morris' opinion I'll go look for it", but I tried to be kind. I do love my neighbor.
So several very quiet days went by. I feared I'd hurt her feelings. I debated whether I'd gone to far. Yesterday we spoke from one back deck to the other, and I got an earful of opinion, which is fine. Because it wasn't Dick Morris speaking to me.
And it's not just Dick Morris, it's also James Carville and a whole host of others. It just seems to me that so many of these people only get a paycheck if they are extreme; so extreme they are. I admit, I'd rather our government not have to do many of the things it is doing right now, but I don't think there is a lot of wiggle room for nipping this economic crisis in the bud. President Obama has barely been in office two months. Anyone saying ugly things about his policies already is clearly more focused on themselves than our country.
Tired of Politics © 2009
Janice Arrowood
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
I haven't crashed yet
I don't know where the time went. A little over fifteen years ago I gave birth to a tiny blond baby girl. The parallel universe I live in makes fifteen years seem like the blink of an eye. Anyway, she's taking in car driver's ed this week. She finished up the classroom course a few weeks ago, so we all knew eventually she'd be behind the wheel on a real road.
Yesterday afternoon I got a text message that read:
Yesterday afternoon I got a text message that read:
Mom, I haven't crashed yet! I went 45 mph.
And, no, she was not texting while she was driving. I checked. Anyway, she is on cloud 9. And while her Dad and I would prefer that she still be that tiny little girl, fifteen years did go by. And in another three years her younger sister will be driving too.
I haven't crashed yet © 2009
Janice Arrowood
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Potato Soup
It was pretty good potato soup, not too creamy, not too thick. Loads of flavor. But, still, it wasn't Mom's potato soup.
I lost my Mom two years ago, to a horrible blood cancer. She was always an amazing cook, until those last few months. Two years of treatment, chemo and radiation, much of it experimental, left her with many days of exhaustion. But still she cooked.
This was a woman who worked my whole life, often not cooking a meal during the week, thanks to her life as a realtor. But in her younger years, as the daughter of a rancher and as a young wife, she cooked. And in her later life, when children were out of the nest, she cooked again.
The most amazing beans, the best roast beef and gravy, even chipped beef on toast. And that potato soup. When I was sick, which thankfully wasn't often, it was what I wanted most. And she would make it. I suppose because I was sick I never watched her fix it, and so the secret is lost. Not that it matters since I've come to know a truth. No one can ever duplicate the remembered taste of a mother's meal. My potato soup, or potato salad will never stand up to any memory I have of Mom's. But they will stand on their own. My children love my potato soup, even if it lacks something in my mind. And I guess that's really the point. We all have to go our own way in the world. And each of us is different.
Potato Soup © 2008
Janice Arrowood
I lost my Mom two years ago, to a horrible blood cancer. She was always an amazing cook, until those last few months. Two years of treatment, chemo and radiation, much of it experimental, left her with many days of exhaustion. But still she cooked.
This was a woman who worked my whole life, often not cooking a meal during the week, thanks to her life as a realtor. But in her younger years, as the daughter of a rancher and as a young wife, she cooked. And in her later life, when children were out of the nest, she cooked again.
The most amazing beans, the best roast beef and gravy, even chipped beef on toast. And that potato soup. When I was sick, which thankfully wasn't often, it was what I wanted most. And she would make it. I suppose because I was sick I never watched her fix it, and so the secret is lost. Not that it matters since I've come to know a truth. No one can ever duplicate the remembered taste of a mother's meal. My potato soup, or potato salad will never stand up to any memory I have of Mom's. But they will stand on their own. My children love my potato soup, even if it lacks something in my mind. And I guess that's really the point. We all have to go our own way in the world. And each of us is different.
Potato Soup © 2008
Janice Arrowood
Sunday, June 1, 2008
You Gotta Have Faith
Today Father Fred spoke of absolute faith. Giving some thought to his words, I’ve applied them to what is happening around here this afternoon.
There is a dog wash going on at my house. The plan, hatched by several enterprising teens, is to make big bucks for summer spending by washing neighborhood dogs. I have to give them credit. They planned what they needed, made posters, called dog owners and waited. They have faith that they’re going to make lots of money to spend at the beach or the mall.
And you need to understand that we are cat people. And the cat is not one bit happy about these dogs. I’m sure he is thinking that they are stinking up his whole territory. And I am also sure he will spend most of the rest of the evening re-marking his empire; that’s of course if we ever see him again, because right now he is invisible. We hope he remains steadfast in his faith that we still love him, and that he comes when we call him home tonight.
I have faith that all the kids will survive washing dogs they don’t know. Many dogs begin to shake at the sight of a washtub, but so far they seem afraid to open their mouths to bite the hand that washes them. I guess to some extent I have faith in the dogs too.
I am not so sure who the dogs have faith in. They appear to have more faith in the girls who are farthest away from the wash tubs. Beyond that there is the true faith they show as they walk away from our house, knowing that their own home is dry and waiting for their return.
I truly have faith in the girls. They are all earnest in their effort to take care of each dog. Carefully washing, rinsing and drying each loved pet. Everyone has been happy to get soaking wet and smelly dirty. Good kids made better by a little grass roots business experience among friends.
Roxie, Candy, Roy, Dakota, Peanut, Jelly and Willie are cleaner. I have faith in their owners; good people willing to entrust their dogs and some money to teenage girls. Kids need to know adults have faith in them.
So sure, it’s just a dog wash. But everything can hold a “teachable moment”. And faith, well it’s everywhere, if you go looking for it. And even if you don’t.
You Gotta Have Faith © 2008
Janice Arrowood
There is a dog wash going on at my house. The plan, hatched by several enterprising teens, is to make big bucks for summer spending by washing neighborhood dogs. I have to give them credit. They planned what they needed, made posters, called dog owners and waited. They have faith that they’re going to make lots of money to spend at the beach or the mall.
And you need to understand that we are cat people. And the cat is not one bit happy about these dogs. I’m sure he is thinking that they are stinking up his whole territory. And I am also sure he will spend most of the rest of the evening re-marking his empire; that’s of course if we ever see him again, because right now he is invisible. We hope he remains steadfast in his faith that we still love him, and that he comes when we call him home tonight.
I have faith that all the kids will survive washing dogs they don’t know. Many dogs begin to shake at the sight of a washtub, but so far they seem afraid to open their mouths to bite the hand that washes them. I guess to some extent I have faith in the dogs too.
I am not so sure who the dogs have faith in. They appear to have more faith in the girls who are farthest away from the wash tubs. Beyond that there is the true faith they show as they walk away from our house, knowing that their own home is dry and waiting for their return.
I truly have faith in the girls. They are all earnest in their effort to take care of each dog. Carefully washing, rinsing and drying each loved pet. Everyone has been happy to get soaking wet and smelly dirty. Good kids made better by a little grass roots business experience among friends.
Roxie, Candy, Roy, Dakota, Peanut, Jelly and Willie are cleaner. I have faith in their owners; good people willing to entrust their dogs and some money to teenage girls. Kids need to know adults have faith in them.
So sure, it’s just a dog wash. But everything can hold a “teachable moment”. And faith, well it’s everywhere, if you go looking for it. And even if you don’t.
You Gotta Have Faith © 2008
Janice Arrowood
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