Pain and Purchases

First, DH's grandmother died yesterday.  He is flying back East for the funeral on Saturday, and will be back Tuesday.  He is not freaking out, but he is more upset than he is letting on.  His dad didn't think we should go, so he decided he is going alone; tickets are so expensive, PLUS all the fees they now have.  He wants to go is to see his grandfather, who is 95.  I never really knew his grandmother, because she already had Alzheimer's when I met her.  So her funeral would be more dutiful than cathartic for me.  

And having been raised Jewish, open caskets freak me out.  Just not a Jewish thing.

In migraine news, I GOT A REFERRAL TO UCSF'S HEADACHE CLINIC!  I had to stop the nortriptyline because of side effects.  They included mental confusion, urinary tract issues, lethargy, poor balance.  And when I went up to a higher dose, my mood was definitely acting up.  I was afraid I was teetering on the edge of a mixed episode.

There may have been just a bit less intensity to the headaches I am getting, but not enough to make the potentially worsening side effects worth it.  After 7 weeks, the side-effects are probably going to last as long as I take it.  I thought I was getting depressed, but now I think it was all Nortriptyline side effects.  

So finally it has come to this:  My neurologist said, "We have a lot of options!"  and immediately suggested Botox  Um, no.  Not under his supervision.  Maybe if UCSF suggests it.  Maybe.  It creeps me out.  Although, the one person I actually have "talked" to about it has loved it, and said it changed her life.  Hmmm.  Blech.

"Well, I've heard fever few an butterbar might help."   Yes, my neurologist thinks I should try herbs.  I asked about acupuncture, and his attitude was, "Sure, try whatever you want, but good luck getting your insurance to pay for it."  We shall see.  I think I am going to go see Angie at Lohaki Acupuncture, even if my insurance won't pay for it; I can start doing that about twice a month.

He also said becoming vegetarian might be a good idea.  I keep saying I want to do that, even if it is just at home.  But it boils down to my being lazy: it seems like all the recipes for main dishes are complex.  And I have trouble gauging how many fruit and vegetables we will eat before they spoil.  Part of the reason for this is that Nortriptyline lethargy has meant I haven't been cooking. At all. We have been grazing, eating cheese, cereal, canned soup, fruit, and too much candy. I keep meaning to learn how to really use beans.  I mean, I use them now and then, but I should soak and freeze batches, or something, they really are so versatile.  And I have a rice cooker, and I love oatmeal.  I guess the first step would be to take stock of which appliances I need, and which I don't, I have way too many cooking appliances.

So anyway, gah.  Oh, and after promising me he would fax the referral to UCSF on  Monday, Dr. Shithead told me it would be out by Friday.  UGH.  I already faxed stuff yesterday (Tuesday), because he TOLD me he was definitely faxing it Monday!  And he had to throw in that he couldn't see what UCSF could do that HE wouldn't already have thought of.  This is the man who does research on Google right in front of me.  I am always far more up to date on migraine treatments than he.  Whatever.  Passive aggressive shmuck.   Seriously, a passive aggressive Dr?  Could there be a worse type of MD to try to develop a relationship with?  And why wouldn't he want me to see a headache specialist after I have been having migraines for over 35 years?  Pussy.

I am his SUPAH DUPAH  NUMBAH ONE migraine patient.  Awesome for a teaching hospital, I am his walking, talking "refractory" specimen.  But he no longer has any idea what to do with me.  And I guess what this is really going to boil down to is poly-pharmacy for my migraines, as well as the BP.  He wouldn't be able to handle a poly-pharmacy approach.

I just have been out of it.  Almost 100% because of the nortriptyline, I am pretty sure.  It takes two weeks for it to be totally out of my system.  

 This is the worst period of migraines I have ever experienced, bar none.  Since last I filled you in, I also tried an stopped using propranolol, because it was clearly working as well as a sugar pill for me.  Next, I tried atenolol, which is in the same class of meds as propranolol (beta blockers), but it gave me a rare side effect: bruxism.  Because of my response to the nortriptyline, other tricyclics are also out of the question.

ANYWAY. I wanted to get back into posting items I bought.  It is an enjoyable pastime for the acquisitive Bipolar part of me, even though this time, it was all full price.  And it gives me something to riff off of, if I am desperate.

First, I was recently pointed towards a website I really like: Dog is Good.  First, I tried their t shirt grab bag: pay $25, and get three random ts. I get a tank top with bling, a light weight logo tshirt, and a tshirt with a logo that actually won a national pet product design contest: KNOW DOG, KNOW JOY, KNOW LOVE.  All very cute, and fun because of the surprise aspect.

Then on FacebookPJs, with a Frenchie on the top, "Le Chien Est Bon."  Very cute.  There is a Frenchie on the top:

There are nice details on it, like ribbon piping around the ankle, from which the hem falls away into a serge stitch hem, so a little ruffling.  And the same with the top.

Now, I really only have a bunch of new costume jewelry to show, but I am a real sucker for costume jewelry.  Unfortunately, one of my favorite necklaces' coating has rubbed off, and now the nickel is exposed to my nickel-allergic skin.

I have a pair of earrings and a necklace that are made by Kerfufle Jewelry, which I bought from one of my favorite little boutiques, Eni-thing, which supports local handmade products.  I bought the earrings first:

It's kind of hard to see, but they are small coin-like hammered metal.  I bought this necklace later:

To be honest, I go back an forth about this pendant.  Sometimes I think it is really cool, other times too garish.  Each strand that goes up to the fastener is different strand one side made of those coin-like beads, as well as a crystal strand.  But it holds up pretty well with a very simple top, because it would be too much for a pattern, imo.

On another visit at Eni-thing, I got a very inexpensive blingy elasticized bracelet.  Very simple but it goes with a lot of things:

Another fun set I collected was the Betsey Johnson French Puppy series.  I got the pendant, both pair of earrings, and best of all, the almost impossible to find charm bracelet:

There are these cute asymmetric dangle earrings, plus there is post version with the same charm: 

I also got a pendant from the same series, but it basically the same Frenchie charm as the earrings, just larger.

I also got some cool t shirts besides those from Dog is Good.  One was from Imogen Heap's Ellipse tour.  Mine actually has a white tree on a white background which is cool up close, but un-photographable, so this is just to give you an idea of the pattern: 

I also bought a cute Honest Kitchen t-shirt.  The Honest Kitchen is the freeze-dried food I feed my Frenchie, Violet.  This one says "Raw + Love = THK:

Wow. Quite a post.  

And none of it that interesting.

Sinking feelings

"I was more at the point where I felt like I wanted to be dead, but wasn't thinking about acting on it. I didn't have any plans or desire to do it myself. I just wanted to stop existing."  -Me, February 13, 2011

So I off-handedly shared a major crisis in my life on a thread at Crazyboards Sunday.  It didn't even bother me when I wrote it.  Later, when I went back to the thread, and saw it, it made me do a double take.  So blase, this has happened so many times, I think I know just what to expect.

My stomach dropped at rereading this hubris, this nonchalant dismissal of a time when I longed for death, as just "one of those things."  To be clear, I am NOT longing for death at the moment, exactly the opposite.  I would hardly use a forum to announce my impending suicide where people know me in person, and how to find me,   I may be crazy, but I'm relatively intelligent.

It isn't that I am depressed at this moment.  It is more that I am afraid.  I feel like something may be stirring in Crazyland, but I can't tell for sure.  Is it a bad mood? Might it be a side effect of medication?  Or am I just due for a visit from the Mood Fairy?

Or perhaps my DH deserved to have his head bitten off this afternoon.  Yes, I have snapped at him for the exact behavior before.  But this afternoon I was very assertive about explaining what about a particular behavior bothered me so much.  On the one hand, I interpreted in the most negative way possible.  On the other, he admitted given the language he uses, he can understand how I might come to make that interpretation.

But irritability could be a sign of a mood swing in any direction, regardless of our eventually coming to an understanding.  It's the fact that I initiated the discussion with anger that is different and troubling.

I will never entirely know what to expect.  Bipolar is a difficult disease to treat.  Its patterns change over time, confounding previously accepted truths.  Drugs that work for years poop out, and drugs that don't work can make one even crazier than before taking the medicaton.  I blandly assume that I have learned how to recognize a pattern or rhythm to help me anticipate episodes, to cut them off at the pass, so to speak, before they become too bad.

Then, suddenly, my brain decides it is time to clean house, and throw out all the knowledge, patterns, and tips I have accumulated over time, and make a fresh start.  New types of episodes.  More instability.

I can remember the year to which I so indifferently referred yesterday so distinctly.  I had been laid off, yet was still teaching another semester at that school before I left, so that wasn't fun.  The day I was laid off was also the day I had evacuated a busload of teenagers from the school campus, as wildfires raced towards it.  The next day, I heard about the murder of my friend.  Then came the week+ hospitalization for my kidneys.  Followed by very, very severe depression.    I ended up calling a crisis line for the first time in my life.

The first few psychiatrists gave me medications that either sent me into a manic frenzy, or were toxic to me.  I ran out of money. Next stop, a crash landing in my parents' basement.  I was so ashamed, and my mother made sure I knew she was ashamed of me, too.  Her verbal brutality was just one more thing to hasten my downward spiral.  And the headaches.  Never forget the headaches.

Awful.  I remember thoughts: "It would just be so much easier if I died.  If I just went to sleep and never woke up."  I never acted on it.  I think there was only one time I was ever truly serious about taking action to bring about my own death, and that was a depressive episode that turned into a mixed episode.  But that was several years in the future.  This episode's theme was inertia.  Hunger and inertia.  I ate at night, to avoid my mother.  I lived at night, to avoid my family.  My dog, Bess, would lie next to me on the bed all day as I slept and hid, if I needed her to.  She was my best friend.  I never want to be without a dog if I am depressed again, even with my husband around.  No person near me can understand the place I am living when I am so depressed.  I need a dog to just shower me with love and affection when I am wanting to die, because it is such a simple straight-forward love, it is easy to return.  No baggage.

And there's more.  I have been on a new medication, a type of anti-depressant, a tricyclic. I actually am not taking it for depression, but to treat my intractable migraines.  I was quite excited to try it, it was the first drug of this "class" of medications I had ever tried.  I have basically tried multiple versions of all the other classes that my body will tolerate.   Ironically, I seem to have magically stopped my standard rhythm of migraines 2 out of 3 days as soon as I started the new medication.  Sheer coincidence, it actually still needs time before it will start working.  But it has coincided with a 13 day period when I have only had two bad headaches and a three or four of mild ones.  The first 5 days, I didn't have *any* type of migraine (migraine is a disease, the headache is just the worset symptom of it).  I am still suffering from too many headaches.  But less pain is less pain.

But with this exciting new (to me) class of medication, comes a caveat: While the amount of tricyclic used to prevent migraine is quite small compared to the therapeutic dose necessary to treat depression, as a rule of thumb, anti-depressants + bipolar =  not a good thing.  This is one of those rare instances where I have run out of other options to try to stop headaches that are ruining my quality of life.  We are trying to delicately balance contraindicated treatments, hoping we can find the magic amalgam that will help with my head, but not hurt my mental stability.

So while we wait to see if the tricyclic helps, we also are watching closely for signs that it might be activating my bipolar illness:  That is, triggering a mood swing.  My doctors biggest concerns are that I have any lability of mood at all.  My biggest concern is having a mixed episode:  Mixed episodes are kind of like having a pocket-Hell that you are forced to carry around, and you have to negotiate life and cope with the havoc Hell is creating at the same time.  No one else can see Hell in your pocket, you just seem flat out insane.  Which I am.  And part of that insanity is believing that others intentionally try to do everything they can to provoke Hell into bursting out of my pocket, and breaking things, forcing words that I know are dangerous even as they fly out of my mouth to come pourng out, throwing things, berating myself and my loved ones.  Of course, I understand intellectually I am the one doing those things.  But my intellect is being over-ridden by sick brain.

As a reasult every time I feel a petty thought, or am irritated, or tear up, or get overly excited about things, I begin to worry.

Usually, when I talk about depression, it is something in my past.  My last one was a brief one in 2001.  I almost had forgotten what it felt like. But re-reading the sentence I quoted above makes my stomach clench, makes me hyperventilate, makes me want to cover my head with a pillow.  It made me remember a tiny inkling of what it was like, and now I am scared that the reason I can suddenly so closely identify with that feeling is that I am headed in a bad direction.

Sight Seeing: Prompts 22, 23, 24 #reverb10

Hi all!  I have been sick a lot this month, so I am crazy busy trying to get these prompts done.  Sorry if parts of the next few blog posts are garbled.   We're in the stretch!

Dec.  22:  Travel.  How did you travel in 2010?  How and/or where would you like to travel this year?  -Tara Hunt   

In 2010, I travelled almost exclusively by Prius, with the exception of about 200 miles.  There was a cab ride back from the airport in January.  My friend gave me a lift to my first post-op appointment for my foot.  A few van rides and cab rides back and forth between my car dealership and my home.  A bike ride to go pick up the Prius from the dealership.  And finally, a tow truck, that carried my dead Prius to a Eugene Toyota Dealership (yes, another dealership).

I only travelled a little this year.  In January, I made a brief trip back to my hometown, Pittsburgh, to spend time with my parents, sisters, and niece.   The next travel of any sort was the Oregon Country Fair, in July.  I drove myself up and back in two day increments, spending the night in Yreka on the northern drive, and Corning on the southern one.

In August, after my husband was offered a great job after almost 11 months of unemployment, we took a short trip to Lassen Volcanic National Park.  While we had to cut our visit short, the reason for this is going to make me jump to the prompt after the next one.  Don't worry, I'll get back to the one I skipped over.

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Dec. 24:  Everything's OK.  What was the best moment that could? serve as proof that everything is going to be alright [sic]?  And how will you incorporate the discovery into the year ahead?  -Kate Inglis


If "Fraught" was the word to describe 2010, August could be considered its zenith.  We were really starting to stretch our finances to the limit.  We were discussing our options:  I had a small IRA I could sell, and DH had stocks.

Meanwhile, DH's seizures were becoming stronger, and more frequent.  His new medication, one that has been on the market for less than a year, gave him such bad side effects that sometimes he had to crawl to get around the house.

DH and his neurosurgeon, thinking that there were no more job opportunities out there for the moment, set a date for surgery.  Brain surgery that is.  Surgery that involves cutting a door in his skull, wrapping his brain with a sheet of electrodes, and then purposefully stimulating those electrodes to cause him to have seizures, in the hope of pinpointing the part of his brain where the wiring went wrong, the "focus."  At the end of the week, they would remove the sheet, and any brain they felt might be the problem (which they warned us might be golf-ball sized), and of course, put his skull back together.  Recovery is 4-6 weeks.

While DH and his neurosurgeon seemed to be handling events with aplomb, I was falling apart.  Looking at my mood chart shows I was pretty freaked out.  The chances of death were as good as nil, but I still dreaded life without him.  I also feared he would come home with a new personality, not the man I married.  I still do fear that a bit, and it turns out, he worries about it too.

The surgery date was set late in August.  I was buying pajamas, and teaching myself cribbage so we could play it in the hospital during his week stay.  About two weeks before the date, DH got a call from a financial services company:  They were interested in his experience in UI (User Interface).  Suddenly, it became a race.  Could DH get an offer before he was admitted to the hospital?

8 days before his scheduled surgery, DH received his offer.   He was so excited, he forgot to sign and fax in his contract, he just read it.  When we were on our celebratory trip to Lassen, just as we were about to head out for the day, DH got a call from his new job.  Where was his contract?   We made a dash to Redding, the nearest town of any size, and waited for a fax of another copy of his contract, had him sign it, fax it back in, then wait for confirmation of his new workplace's receipt of the document.  It took 3 tries, but at last we did it!

It had seemed like a horrible last minute nightmare when we first realized we had to get the contract in, or he wouldn't be able to start for another few weeks.  But when we knew that contract was in their hands, suddenly, DH was officially employed.   The contract was signed, the "i"s dotted, and the "t"s crossed.  We had made it.  We had lived on umemployment that lasted 6 months, and then on our savings alone for another 4 months. We are playing catch up a little with our debt, but as of January 6, all of our credit cards will be back to zero.  We have another round of surgeries and health problems to look forward to in 2011, but the outlook is so much rosier, with DH working, my foot nearly healed (meaning I can get back to my work), and really great health insurance.  

We are back.

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Dec. 23:  New name. Let's meet again, for the first time.  [Cassandra]If you could introduce yourself to strangers by another name for just one day, what would it be, and why?  -Becca Wilcott


Hello, my name is Cassandra.  I am the archetype of the truth teller who is ignored.  For predicting the truth time and time again, in other people's minds, I am a foreteller of doom, rather than a seer of the inevitable consequences of their own actions. I am falsely labeled "mad" when I speak truths they do not want to hear.  But when I am truly waxing crazy, my truths become harsher, and bitter.  They are just as often true.  But it is when I predict bad outcomes that come true that people are the most scared of me.

I'm not psychic.  I am a "student" of behavior.  I am a studier, a watcher, drawn to details, a collector of patterns.  It is true, everyone is different.  But what makes them different is just the differing weights of the ingredients  they share with Everyone else.  There are only so many ingredients out of which to make people, although there are always one or two without raisins, and others with nuts.  

I learned about human behavior from an expert, a psychopharmacologist who studied biologically based mental illnesses, AKA, my father.  He taught me what was normal, what was not.  He showed me the rigid patterns in which people think, the way the very words they use to conceal give them away.  I learned there were a limited array of behaviours. Some are so dreadful that it is best not to think about them.  But for all of them, it is as the old saw goes, there is nothing new on this Earth.

Sometimes, I scare and anger people with my assessments of their friends and what I foresee as the outcome of their actions.  The more often I am correct, the harder they push me away.

My plan for now is to lie low, I refuse to fall victim to any scheming Clytemnestra.  Another meaning for the name Cassandra is "defender,"  and I have always been someone who tries to defend the rights of the most marginalized members of society.   Sometimes defending is altruistic, such as helping prisoners make legal appeals,.  Other times it just means protecting myself from the consequences of mishaps created by my own peculiar recipe of perspicacity and crazy.

The "I" key is screwed up

So I will do the best I can.

I am, let's just say, heavily self-medicated. I feel relief to not be going, going, going. I know this is bad, but the honest truth is I don't care. My p-doc isn't around right now. I have to go into crisis to really see a p-doc now anyway, so what do I do? I don't actually feel that I am doing what I am doing enough that it is actually going to create a crisis, and I need a fucking break.

Thinking about Heather still makes me put my head in my hands. I'm ridiculously gutted by her death, since I never met her. And then that makes it all about me.

Cathi said she still mourns for an "internet friend" who died of an embolism in her 40s, so that makes me feel a little better. Ugh, what a horrible, tragic, thing.

So, if you hadn't already noticed, alcohol is a depressant. Roll eyes, to paraphrase an emoticon.

I think I have ingested enough substances to sleep, now. And it is before 4AM!

No seriously, I wore stuff

Okay, I have learned that removing images that I have posted on flickr, even when I lift the html, makes them disappear blog. So sorry that some of my pictures have disappeared. I maybe will fix some of the "outfit" pictures.

I haven't posted any outfits in a while, but that doesn't mean I haven't been keeping records. And I know this is going to be super self-indulgent, but I am going to also start taking pictures of my jewelry, so I can refer to it. Hey, this is my frivolous "what I wore" blog, as well as my pensive "who AM I" blog.

So, I am just going to show "outfits" in order, and then discuss them as I go along. This should be an absolutely riveting post. But I am learning things.

Friday, it began to cool off, but was still warm. The top is an Exhilaration top by Target (which I am currently boycotting). The pants are those ugly Costco Capri's again. We will see these again soon, and I have more to say on that. The hair pin is one of my larger kanzashi, blue and pink. the usual Birkenstock: In my defense, I have to limit my footwear due to foot reconstruction less than a year ago, with more surgery to come.



I also wore these beautiful earrings, another GW find. Perfect fall colors. No necklace, the scoop neck is elasticized and ruffled.



Saturday, I actually had a reason to dress fairly nicely: NakedJen, DH and I had plans for lunch at our usual Ginormous Whole Foods in Cupertino, a central meeting place in the Silicon Valley for us. But, after I got dressed, fate intervened, in the form of a disgruntled host, and two silly dogs, so she had to run back to Santa Cruz. We see each other enough, it wasn't a big deal. But this is what I dressed in:



You are familiar with a lot of these clothes. Brown cotton tunic with embossed insets on the front and the sleeves; Coldwater creek jeans (I am washing these clothes occasionally, so don't panic). I also wore my Bass black zip up ankle boots.
They couldn't be more practical, classic, or comfortable. If I take care of them, I will be able to where them my whole life.

The jewelry is almost all new to you, save those earrings (they go with everything, seriously). On my right wrist, you can see a sculpted silver bangle bracelet, my parents gave it to me for my 16th birthday. I also am wearing a signed Navajo totem charm necklace.This is one of the coolest pieces of jewelry I own. I have to take pictures of these things when I am not wearing them. Again, I see long posts of earrings and necklaces. Riveting reading, hold onto your hats.

Sunday, I didn't feel great, which shows in my demeanor. I was very upset about Heather, I was still in shock. plus, I had a stupid menstrual headache. Oops, was that TMI? That pink shirt with the white "shirt" hanging below it: That is all of a piece, another Costco purchase. Not my favorite. I have a lot of solid color Costco for my old doggie daycare job, as we had to wear solid colored shirts. I didn't want to wear nice enough clothes that I cared if they got ruined by dogs or chemicals.

Now the Capri's. This is their second wear, which is pretty standard for me and pants. With jeans, I usually wear them 3 times, and sometimes, I admit, even a fourth. But look, these are far more awful than they were Friday. I have relegated them to pajamas, or at worst, gym clothes: No more wearing them as "real" clothes. I suspect I have a lot of knits I am going to be equally unhappy with. This is actually becoming a useful way of winnowing and organizing my wardrobe. I ORGANIZED MY CLOSET today. At least what was already in it. I have many more clothes to wash, or get dry cleaned.



As usual, my hair looked like shit. But my necklace was cute:



One of my MANY Wychbury purchases. I just got another packet from them, so I have more fun stuff to show off soon. They created the pansy that is the inspiration for my cover-up tattoo.

Monday I didn't do much, just hung around the house, literally. You may notice I am actually barefoot, which I am trying to not make a habit, I have discovered the more "dressed" I am, the more likely I am to run errands, and go out, which is good for my mental health, and good practice for my social anxiety.

Now I am pretty sure those jeans don't look THAT bad on me. They are just plain old Levis, and I can't recreate that bagginess when I am using my own two eyes. Also, wearing a cheapo Costco henley shirt. AND I noticed a stain on it, so at the end of the day, into the trash it went. So you see, this is a bit like winnowing my wardrobe. Sort of my own little "What Not to Wear."



No jewelry, dirty hair. This is pretty standard when my mood is bobbling around my baseline, I have better and worse days.

On Tuesday, I wore this to my p-doc appt. I know I wore the skirt just the other day, but I thought it was a pretty different look:



I had my hair pulled back, and a Calvin Klein casual scoop-neck long-sleeved top, the sleeves are inset like tiny mutton chop sleeves. Padded shoulders and emphasizing my shoulders (not to 1980s proportions) is supposed to be a good style for apple shaped people. Believe it or not, the shirt looked better tucked in. The necklace is a $2 purchase, it is just faux gold and beads, and it is very long. You can see I have it knotted, and in the picture with DC early in the blog, you can see I am wearing it doubled up. I also am wearing these earrings:



Yes, Wychbury again! They know who I am now. Har.

Today was a double outfit today. That is because I woke up feeling horrible. Seriously awful. I didn't have a headache yet, but I think I staved it off somewhat. Anyway, here I am in jammies, a tshirt, and a jacket (I am always cold when migraine-y



At about 4:30, I started feeling better. I called in my scripts, and realized that on Friday, not only would I have to drive out to Lucky, I wanted to go to Enica's holiday art party at Eni-thing. I decided to just take the American Express gift card Sister2 gave us for our anniversary. DH has spaced on it, and I do want to go to this party, and buy some pretty things, maybe even some early gifts. BUT, I might try to hit up the Sunnyvale GW if I don't get to sleep sometime soon. It is, after all, now 5:30. Who knows, I might stay up and go, then nap. Sigh.

At any rate, I started feeling better, and I decided rather than squeeze in another trip Friday to SBAC dispensary while I was feeling okay, since who knew how I would feel in a bit. Okay, another lesson learned courtesy of the GPS: During rush hour, take side streets. Geez.

DH got home shortly after I did. I actually will admit, I bought a few strains and told him they were purely for headaches, and he was not to smoke it. I also got some hash, since he won't smoke it. That way, at least I know I will have SOMETHING to take every night for the next two weeks, and it is surprisingly cheap. Cannabis is better, but hash will do. I feel bad, I wonder about his dependence, but I actually have more difficulty without it than he. Of course, that is because I start having more migraines, but it also means I have a hard time limiting his intake. Ugh.

More on non fashion topics tomorrow/today.

Heather is gone

I can't believe it. I feel like the entire medical community let her down, no one took her seriously when she was clearly very ill. I am so pissed right now. Her poor kids.

Heather was the only official "follower" of my blog.

I'm not positive how old she was, but definitely way less than 40. Her oldest son is 16, I think, and she had him at 18 or 19. I can't believe it.

Goodbye, Heather. I will miss you.