The Helpful Crone: Prompts 19, 20 & 21 #reverb10

Dec. 19  Healing. What healed you this year? Was it sudden, or a drip-by-drip evolution? How would you like to be healed in 2011? -Leonie Allan

Dec. 20  Beyond avoidance. What should you have done this year but didn't because you were too scared, worried, unsure, busy or otherwise deterred from doing? (Bonus: Will you do it?) -Jake Nickell

Dec. 21  Future self. Imagine yourself five years from now. What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead? (Bonus: Write a note to yourself 10 years ago. What would you tell your younger self?) -Jenny Blake


Dear 47 year-old me:

If 2010 was the most chaotic year of your marriage, 2011 was still a doozy.  But as usual, the two of you pulled through.  The lesson of 2010 was that in order to heal, you must learn to endure the pain with patience, because things may get much worse before they get better. The bottom may have been a lot further down than you initially realized, but there was a bottom.  And once you hit it, you found it was something to push off of, to stabilize you during your climb back up.  It was a good lesson to have under your belt for 2011, with both of your continued health challenges.

First and foremost, were all of the surgeries.  First the foot surgery, to remove the metal you had developed an allergy to.  After what you endured after the foot surgery in 2010, this turned out to be a breeze, and you were back on your feet within a month. Then DH's brain surgery, both planned, yet scheduled abruptly, when his epilepsy and seizures took a turn for the worse.  As scared as you were for your husband, and as concerned as you were about your finances, both survived.   Not without a little too much angst on your part, crtclms.  But the fact that you both had endured so much in 2010 made your bond and your faith in yourselves stronger.

The outcome of the brain surgery wasn't the miracle you had hoped for, but it did help with DH's seizures.  He became much more responsive to anti-epileptics.  He even got his driver's license back.

Then your right eye, the one that was practically blind, and which worsened considerably in 2010, was finally treated.   You had been so frightened of the idea of eye surgery, or worse, of losing sight in that eye altogether, that you had totally ignored the problem from that day in October, 2009 that you were told your eye was beyond regular opthalmological care.  Then suddenly, the scare in December of 2010, when your sight got abruptly worse.  That was scary.  And the fact is that it was an unusual and uncomfortable treatment.  But the results were worth it:  No more night-blindness, no more cars and street lamps throwing halos of light, rather than beams, no more holding books inches from your nose to read regular-sized print, no more hitting the apple key and + over and over again to make sites legible, if distorted.

And on top of that, you worked hard at pulling your financial picture together again, at the same time that you planned a somewhat extravagant 10th wedding anniversary.  10 years of physical disaster after physical disaster, 10 years of joy in and with each other.  Years of penny-pinching as you got your marriage started, then years of largess.  Followed by 2010, when you became two of millions of victims of the Great Recession.

But while 2010 proved your marriage, 2011 celebrated it.  All your life, you had resisted being so reliant on one other person, fearing the idea of merging with them.  You feared loss of identity.  But in 2010, you realized the strength of two individuals, joined like a mortise and tenon at Stonehenge, create a simple but strong and durable bond, that is stronger than either person alone.  The quotation from your wedding ceremony by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry  seems to have proved an important tenet in your marriage:  

"Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction."   

While you lived your marriage day by day, you both were committed to keeping your marriage moving in concert with both of your future dreams.


In 2013, you finally made the big trip to Australia, so that DH could see the country you love so much.  It was odd to have a sister living permanently abroad, and you will always feel a little sad that you never had the chance to live overseas.  But you made different choices than your sister, and have a happy life.


That was for your 50th birthday, and now your 60th is much closer than I would like to admit.  But if I could offer advice to the 47 year-old me/you, here are some of the tidbits I have to share, in my extreme decrepitude:

• Everything is going to be okay.  Yes, the unknown is scary, and makes you anxious.  Yes, the path may be difficult.  But your failures have often been more rewarding than your successes.  
• Stop feeling guilty for not living a life you are not suited for, even if it is what was expected of you.  I can't believe this still bothers you, frankly.  You know better, and have given this exact advice to dozens of friends.  Now take it yourself.
• You still do not owe your mother any more of your life.   Be polite.  Accept that you will be devastated by her death, but will have a hard time feeling anything positive about her until then
• You are very much like your father.  His life did not end happily.  Learn from his example.
• Live in the now, stop trying to get a jump on the future.  It isn't possible in the current space-time continuum.
• This is very hard, but try not to live in fear of your illnesses:  Don't let fear of the next episode invade your periods of good health, and enjoy your wellness.
• Your psychiatrist has prescribed you Xanax because you need it.  Now listen to his advice, and stop being afraid of it.  It will improve your quality of life.  Needing a medication is not the same thing as being addicted to it.

Yes, you are still working on those same old problems.  You will be for the rest of your life.  And every time you think you have met a challenge, it will create another, bigger problem.   Such is life.  But with DH holding your hand, facing forward, you can best any hardship it presents, and bring joy to its labors.


And of course, you took the time yearly to renew yourself at the Oregon Country Fair, with Nakedjen and friends.

You still miss Bess and Violet.  You always will.  Your current dog is as lovable as they come, but different.  Sometimes you still cry from missing both of them.

Bess

Violet

DH and I are about to celebrate your 20th wedding anniversary.  Congratulations to us all!  May we share many more years.


Love,


57 year-old me    


P.S.  And after all these years, I still can't get the fonts to work properly on Blogger!

Headaches and Hippies, #reverb10

December 8, and 9 Prompts:

Beautifully different.  Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up.  Reflect on all the things that make you different- you'll find they're what make you beautiful. -Karen Walrand

Party.  What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010?  Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, and shenanigans. -Shauna Reid

Sorry to have been MIA.  The reason for my absence is essentially what makes me different:  I have been a chronic migraineur since I was 13.  This has really thrown some huge curve-balls at me during my life, but I rarely am able to increase my slugging percentage.

The last two days I had a full blown migraine, with aura, photo phobia, vomiting, osmophobia, dizziness, and agonizing pain. Having suffered from such a bad headache, ending only a few hours ago, it is hard for me to find anything positive and beautiful in my experiences.  In fact, they have been depressing and isolating.   One of the quandaries of migraine (or in this case, migraine co morbid with bipolar disorder), is that it is a chronic, painful, but invisible and non-lethal.   People think that I exaggerate how often and how severely I suffer from headaches.

Unhappy things that having 2-30 migraines a month for the last 34 years has taught me:
*Life isn't fair
*Pain is incapacitating, yet invisible, putting your claim of genuine disability into question.
*People are very willing to tell you what you are doing wrong when they have no idea what you are going through

But there are useful things I have learned as a result of my condition, too:
*Living a "conventional" 9-5 life life is not the only way to lead a happy life.
*Joy can be found in things as simple as an absence of pain
*Life isn't as linear as the average high school counselor would like you to believe.

In addition, using medical Cannabis to treat pain has exposed me to a new activist community, and a new cause for my lifelong civil rights activism

Overall, being a migraineur has had positive impact on my world view and approach to my life.  I am intimately acquainted with the pit falls of having an invisible disability, and have used that knowledge in my activism, especially for IV drug users, and HIV patients.  I have developed a hobby interest in neurobiology.  DH's seizures provide more fodder for that interest, and the fact that my dad was a widely read psycho-pharmacologist, who did research in neuropsychiatry meant that I was taught about how our brains work by a world-renowned clinical scientist.

The amount of pain I experience for no valid reason, with no end in sight, makes me very empathetic to people who are struggling with their health, regardless of what condition they suffer, or what caused it.  I have more insight into chronic illness than the average person, and unfortunately, learned about it at a much younger age than the average person who will develop a chronic disorder.  This understanding of the bone-sucking weariness that chronic illness creates in its victims is what lead to my extensive HIV prevention activism, and support of people with HIV.  Migraines are not fatal, but I can easily relate to those who feel poorly more often than feeling well.

Another thing I have learned is nothing is more important than keeping myself healthy.   The rest of my life will go careening off the rails if I am not careful enough about looking after myself.  I have the deeply held belief that if I had not come from a well-off family, and then met DH, who loves me with all my failings and lack of earning power, I would be homeless.  So I tend to keep change in my pocket for the mentally ill and homeless people in the City.

One unusual fact about myself is my ability to interact with anyone, from the crack addict sitting on the stoop of my apartment building, to the members of the royal families I went to college with.  When I lived in the San Francisco Tenderloin, which is a red light district, I had first name basis relationships with a lot of the homeless people that lived in the UN Plaza.

Being incapacitated by illness most of my adult life taught me the very important fact that life is a crap shoot, shit happen, and to remember other people in my world may also be ducking invisible curve balls.

****

Now I almost skipped the next prompt, because it is becoming a bit repetitive to say that the Oregon Country Fair was the social highlight of my year.  But it was a very bad year, with a few peaks, and the OCF was my major excitement for 2010, but for a two day driving trip with DH in August.   Those of you who are here for the first time, my December 3rd prompt: Moment blog post was about happenings at the Fair.

I basically describe the Fair to people who want to know as a convergence of dirty hippies, faeries, rainbow people, burning man aficionados, and the like, creating a Counter Culture space-time singularity each July.  Music Bands from the well known, to the virtually anonymous play on various stages throughout the  weekend, so there is music coming from one or many directions at any time.  There is a non-stop drum circle, which was joined briefly by Bob Weir last summer (I realize now by looking at the Wikipedia picture that I actually saw him: I hadn't aged him in my mind since 1990, so I was looking for a much younger man).  Puppet shows, acrobats, magic, mehndi booths, hair braiding booths, face painting, ice cream, and children with dread locks.  All sorts of delicious food, caters to everyone from the omnivore to the vegan.  Even though I fall into the first category, my favorite food item at the Fair is vegan, Blazing Salad's Avocado Dream Boats. I already know what I am having for breakfast on July 8, 2011.  I wish I could tell you what is in it, so far I have figured out avocado, hummus, garlic, and hot sauce.

I discovered if you mash those ingredients together, you will have a filling, yummy sandwich spread.  Eat it the day you make it, avocados don't keep!

And I haven't even talked about all the cool items sold there.  There are great artisans and artists selling a variety of wares.

But there is far more to the fair than what I can list in one post.  As I have said, the ambiance is a large percentage of what makes the fair great.  Some concrete examples (if you will) of created ambiance: Parades with brass instruments and costumed marchers;  the big juggling pavilion in Chela Mela; the singing around the sauna at the Ritz; the Women's lodge in the Community Village, an homage to estrogen; speeches on topics controversial and not; women rolling out rugs and dancing like dervishes to their favorite music, or the drumming circles' rhythms.

I hate to end this post this way, it seems unfinished.  But I am hoping to get my Dec 10 prompt done before I go to bed tonight, so I am going to leave this topic for now.

Community: Mentally Interesting #reverb10

Prompt #7 Community.  Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010?  What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011? -Cali Harris

Even I am getting tired of hearing myself say that 2010 was a difficult year for me.  Unfortunately, that doesn't change the fact that it was.

Along with my DH's unemployment, and my long term immobilization by surgery, I started to have mood swings, and was frankly mildly depressed through the part of the of the year when I was most immobile.

And like some other people with bipolar, with the changes in the season and the changes of light, come more mood swings.   In the spring, I become hypomanic.  In the summer, I tend to have a mixed episode.  Then hypomania returns sometime around Xmas (yes, I'm keeping an eye on it, but it can still creep up on you).  Solstices, in particular, do not tend to be happy times for me.

I began to worry that discussing every troubling thought that crossed my mind with my DH was not healthy for either our marriage or us.  But even if I wanted to go to therapy, which I did not, I was trapped in the house by my foot. I needed someone who could listen to some of my more crazy thoughts without freaking out.

So I turned to an online bulletin board on which I had lurked now and then, CrazyBoards.org. (CB) For the first time, I stopped lurking, and began to venture forth into the discussions, commenting, comparing, sharing my experience.  There are people with all types of illness, and all levels of suffering.  People living with anything from ADHD to psychoses (although I don't want to imply there is a hierarchy of mental illnesses).  I have mentioned I am bipolar, and have migraine.  My official diagnosis is Bipolar NOS, which is when the illness doesn't quite fit into either the Bipolar I or II compartments.

One of the great things about CB is that we don't have to play nice.  It is accepted that sometimes people are crazy, and other times, someone might need a stern talking to, to get help.  People don't hesitate to say what they think, however unpleasant.  The oft repeated mantra is "we don't have to walk on eggshells here."  That is in contrast to most of the other mental illness support boards.  Those boards will ban people for confrontation or being negative.  The average board for the mentally ill is a much more strictly moderated, polite, non-confrontational, warm and fuzzy place.

One of the first rules of CB's user agreement stipulates, "You won't find that your every post is responded to with feigned warm fuzziness and cyberhugs.  Frankly, we think cyberhugs suck."  Definitely the place for a mentally-ill cynic, who has dealt with too much shit in her life. 

For that reason the CB boards are considerably more real, helpful, genuine, and brutal than the average milquetoast site.  To be honest, it is a fascinating place.  The population is generally very bright, and the more idiotic people tend to get run off rather quickly.  The focus is on mental illness, and the forums are divided and sub-divided into conditions, or medications, but threads can and do take sharp detours.  We discuss our relationships.  We discuss our hobbies.  We fight, we form cliques.  And we confide and admit to each other our hallucinations and delusions.

My favorite feature of Crazyboards.org is the community blog.  One of the really bad, crazy things I do when I am hypo-manic, manic, or having a mixed-episode, is I post information that is very revealing about myself, but also about other people interacting with me during these frenzies.  I embarrass some people, and piss other people off to the point they break off friendships.  Sadly, this is often to my benefit, even when I handled the situations anywhere from poorly to thoughtlessly.  But until accidentally freeing myself from some of my relationships, I never realized how much I had been tamping down my personality, not to mention opinions, around people I considered friends.  It is only in retrospect that I see that those friendships were already fraying at the edges, and the biggest red flag should have been that I no longer felt like I could be myself around them.

CBs provides a safe place to blog.  One can control who can and cannot see with much more precision that one can on Blogger.  I feel like if I am indiscreet there, it is a little safer.  It is definitely a form of self-therapy.

Next year, I hope to dip my toes into the Medical Marijuana activist community.  I know from prior activism that that is going to mean inserting myself into the community of activists working on that problem.  My fellow dirty hippies.  2011 is definitely the year of Cannabis.

Momentum

One thing I have found about blogging is the longer you go without making an entry, the harder it is to start back up.  So I am just going to catch everyone up in a short post, just to get myself moving again.  No pictures today.

I do have a few random outfits and purchases to post.  But it is by no means a daily record.

We have been having a really tough time.  I have been having a lot of headaches, and DH has been having many seizures.  This weekend, he battered his face against either the bed or the bureau, I couldn't see.  But he has a big cut on his forehead, right above his still healing black eye.

Surgery has been post-poned, again.  I still assume it will happen before next fall.

I am thinking of trying Cymbalta for my migraines if there is not a marked improvement in frequency or severity before my January appointment.  It is an anti-depressant, an SSRI, but it is used off label in tiny quantities for migraine.  My p-doc doesn't think it will be enough to interfere with my other meds, and that it will be okay if we go ahead with it.  I had an SSRI induced manic episode when I was on Prozac, so I was a little worried.  But he said the amounts were so miniscule that they wouldn't have any anti-depressant effect.  That is one odd thing about psychiatric and neurological meds:  Depending on your illness, you may take wildly different dosages.  For instance, both DH and I are on lamotrigine (generic Lamictal).  I take it for bipolar illness, and take 225mg daily.  DH takes over three times the dose I do, since he uses it for Epilepsy.

Anyway, I have been using the propranolol for 6 months as of the 29th of November.   This is kind of my last gasp with it.  It is odd, because I swear it helped with my headaches when I was 20; I had to quit it abruptly because of side effects.  But this go round, I was able to tolerate the side effects (it is 26 years later, bodies change), but it isn't working.

Oh, and our new insurance has deadly co-pays: $10 for generics, $60 for brand name!  And we both take meds that are brand name:  One of DH's is so new there is no generic, and I only respond to the name brand of a migraine treatment.  Even though the molecules of medication are identical between generic and name brand, sometimes there is something in the binders that blocks absorption for certain people.  For most of my  meds, I can use the generic, but for Sumatriptan, a rescue drug, I have to use the name brand, Imitrex.  I receive it in two different formats, a pill, and a subcutaneous injection.  That is $120 copay for one month of migraine rescue medication.

There is nothing wrong with the healthcare system.  It is double plus good.

You may have noticed my mood issues have receded into that background for the moment, while my migraines have come to the forefront.  This is how it is with the combination of migraine and bipolar illness, one condition or the other always seems to be flaring.  My focus flips back and forth between the two syndromes.

I am mailing Sister2's birthday present Tuesday.  Hooray.  I also plan to make a trip with Violet to explore a new independently owned "boutique" pet shop, Biscuits.  I meant to go see it on Saturday, which was an official day set aside to patronize small local businesses, but I was busy being sick.

I have actually purchased a couple of holiday purchases.  Also I am very excited about a gift my sister got for my DH for his 40th birthday, which is this week!  Eek, I have to arrange for a cake!  I have no idea what to get him, and I think he would like some input: It is a special birthday, and we were in France for my 40th (he went on business, but we stretched it out into a vacation).  I had hoped we would go on a great trip for his 40th, but I guess our next big trip will be for my 50th birthday.  That will be Australia, if I have any say.  We also had hoped to go to Hawaii for our 5th, and I needed knee surgery.  So we then retrenched, and were going to go for our 10th anniversary.  That was before we went through our entire savings during DH's year of unemployment.

We are still going to have an amazing 10th anniversary:  We are returning to the B&B at which we honeymooned, a very luxurious and fun place.

So, not the most interesting post.  But I know from past experience it is important to keep up one's posting momentum when one blogs.

Dain Bramage and Neurosurgery

[Editor's note:  I noticed that I often write garbled sentences in these blog posts.  This is not just due to poor writing skills, but also because I often post extremely late/early, and wrap up when I feel fatigued enough to sleep.  So my proof reading is often shoddy.  My new policy will be I may go back into posts to correct grammar or spelling without notification.  Content changes will be noted.] 

Well, excitement has abounded at the home of DH and crtclms.  DH was transported from his job to the ER for the second time in 10 days.  This time he didn't hit his head.  The prior seizure, he caught the orbital bone of his eye on the corner of his desk on his way down, which gave him an impressive shiner.  This time, he went into a fugue, during which he wanders around in a semi-conscious state.

So off to the ER I went.  I couldn't find my purse, and during the hunt, I had time to snap a pic.  I know how long it takes them to process him, and expected to arrive before he was released, and this turned out to be true:

So, leaf-type chandelier earrings you have seen; dirty hair pulled up; new lavender top with rhinestone embellishment from recent GW hunt; ancient pair of bleach spattered jeans from dog care; they look worse than usual because I was in a hurry, and pulled on dirty jeans.   One attempt to hide part of the dirt was the boots.  Now, I love these boots, one of my gypsy princess purchases, and really I do understand it is a matter of personal taste, but I saw them and had to buy them.  The velvet inset on the top is very close in color to the sweater:

Ah yes, the infamous computer backdrop.  Hey, sometimes it is the only way I am not too lazy to take the picture.

Anyway, you can see the velvet, with embroidery, trimmed with a narrow floral band.  Tweed laced through, and the seam above the ankle is tweed, too.  I bought these about two years ago, and one of the nice things about them is you can wear them with a longer skirt, or under jeans, and they just look like plain brown boots.

And we are back to the Land of Fucked Up Brains:  This was not only the second time in 10 days I had to go pick DH up from the ER, it was the 2nd time I had to do so with a migraine.  This is not to complain about his timing, but to demonstrate what a fun month we are having generally.  In the fall, my frequent migraines actually morph into "Chronic Daily Headache."   This is not only painful and incapacitating, it is embarrassing:  Headaches are invisible, and how many times in a short period of time would you accept the excuse, "I'm sorry, I have to cancel, I have a headache,"  when this is the 3rd, 4th, or 5th time in a month I have had to cancel?  Only people who know me extremely well can even tell I am in the midst of a headache.  Plus, migraines manifest in a lot of "non-headache" ways, which can ruin any social outing, even without actual pain. Today, for instance, I have been "buzzy" because a weather front is coming in, and migraines are often triggered by weather fronts.  What does "buzzy" mean?  Hard to say, but I can feel things going on in my head.  However, even though it was a term I thought I came up with on my own, I found anyone who has migraines or epilepsy knows what I mean when I say "buzzy," and many already use the term to describe their own cranial happenings.

It is also humiliating as to how it affects my marriage.  "Not tonight, I have a headache" isn't a "line" in my home, it is a pretty much daily occurrence.  While sexual activity as a general rule is helpful to headache patients, that is only the case when they are not in the throws of an actual attack.  It is upsetting and guilt inducing to feel like you are not up to being an equal partner in intimate aspects of your marriage.  I actually quit a medication that was working somewhat at controlling my head, because it totally destroyed my libido, to the extent I didn't even like to be touched.  My neurologist agreed with me my marriage was more important than the medication.

DH has also had horrible, life-altering side-effects from medication.  A lot of people don't realize that when you have a chronic illness, you are not only dealing with the illness itself, but also with the sometimes severe and dangerous side-effects of prescription pharmaceuticals.  This is why I use Cannabis, and why I feel so strongly about protecting its medical use, and legalization in general.

Now, the activity of having to pull myself together to get DH did distract me from the pain a bit, and other than the purse mishap, I got to Stanford pretty quickly.  This is one of the first times I had been to Stanford ER in the early afternoon, usually it has been at night.  ERs are SO much calmer during the day!  DH was awake and alert (he apparently had awoken while being strapped to the gurney).  I actually know how to read the monitor he is attached to now, and all of his vitals, including blood oxygen, were excellent.

The nurses and doctors on call were very nice, because they weren't overwhelmed.  They kept coming in to tell us what stage they were at with DH's release every few minutes, which has never happened before.  Then, the doctor came in, and said DH's neurosurgeon, who is the head of the Stanford Epilepsy Center, wanted to talk to us before we left.  Again, a first.  But we knew seizures were coming too fast and hard.  What we didn't expect was how blunt his Dr. F was.  When he walked into the room, the first thing out of his mouth was, "This is not acceptable."  He is concerned that DH is having so many seizures it may start causing more brain damage, or that he may really hurt himself hitting his head, which DH does regularly, and we have been lucky that a black eye is the worst thing that has ever come of it.

The question for both of us:  What quality of life is acceptable, and what isn't?  Are the number of headaches I have by refusing to take a particular medication worth the physical intimacy, not just sexual, but day to day, I share with my husband, worth it?  How many seizures, how many drug side effects, will my DH be able to tolerate, and still lead some semblance of a normal life?

Monday's ER visit brought this question into sharp relief for DH.  Dr. F informed DH and myself that brain surgery could no longer be postponed until next Fall as we had planned, and that DH's job was now officially secondary to his health.  This is a little scary for us, because what some of you do not know is, DH got his current job a few weeks before I started this blog.  This had been after being laid off for 10 months (he had had one short job that blew up).  It is a fabulous job, that he loves, and we are pretty sure they love him.  We don't want him to lose it, and we frankly can't afford it, especially if DH has the surgery, and we don't resume receiving income after his recovery.

But, he has violent seizures about once a week, and less violent ones one or twice a week.  He can't drive.  He has had seizures on his bike, and on public transportation, so even though he isn't a danger to others, he is actually very likely to get hurt even when not behind the wheel.  He has to take almost all his sick and personal days to recover from seizures.  He has visible hypoxia of the brain (under-oxygenated parts) on his MRIs.

I had to stop working at my job as a doggie daycare provider because my foot was reconstructed in January, and it only now is beginning to feel like a real foot (it takes about a year to totally heal).  So even though my salary was meager, I was at least working.  Now, my foot is not strong enough for dog care, and my headaches are preventing any aspirations of any other part-time work.  I can only work half-time, because of my migraines, and my mood disorder.  Like headaches, bipolar illness is invisible, and like migraine, it limits my life even though it leaves no mark on me physically.  In order to keep myself even somewhat healthy, my p-doc in Pittsburgh told me I should only work part time, or at most, a clerical level job if I were going to work full-time.  So much for that Ivy League education.

The round-about point is, I am bringing in zero income myself.  We might be entirely reliant on an account we were really hoping on not touching.  My only "hope" is that he is eligible for disability from work or the State.  His contract doesn't say he has to have worked there any amount of time in particular to be eligible for their benefits, so we have our fingers crossed, but are prepared for either possibility.  [The old law student in me wanted to abbreviate that to "K," which is a legal shorthand for "contract."]  Because he has only been there a few months, we don't know what kind of leave he is eligible for.  He would be willing to take an unpaid leave, if it meant there would be a job to go back to.  That would wipe out our savings (making Goodwill even more attractive to Ms. Hypo-mania), but we have enough.  As one of my friends said to me yesterday, we can get more money, I am thankful we have what we do.   DH's health is more important than our savings, any day.

We are upper middle class, even given the loss of income and savings during DH's unemployment.  We have had health insurance, either through COBRA, or his new job.  I know it isn't exactly the same as those families who have to declare bankruptcy, and I understand that most of our monetary hit did not come from DH's or my conditions per se.  But the expense of co-pays for meds and treatment, seeing doctors, having surgery (we both will have had surgery in 2010), ER visits, the lost days to migraines, the compulsive spending that often accompanies my mood changes, it helps to chip away at our income.

So that can also be added to the daily cost, in money, body, and spirit, of chronic illness.

Now, I do have purchases and outfits to show you.  And tomorrow is a fundraiser for a Food bank, where I intend to do some Hannukah shopping, and I will come home with other things to show you.  But even the little "fashion" I did have in this post didn't seem to fit the tenor of the post, so I am saving it for this weekend.  As Eddie Izzard would say, "Ciaooooo!"