Soup & sandwich entry

 Life has been rather slow and tedious around here lately, but the general state of affairs is fortunately improving.  My life is one case of “this too shall pass” after another!  April was a good month; I was full of energy, getting back into exercise, and whimpering-in-pain was at a minimum.  Just as well, given the whole moving-house thing; being laid up then could have been a minor disaster.

May pretty much sucked, mainly due to the fucking atrocious weather.  Most soft-tissue / rheumatological conditions are exacerbated by changes in weather / barometric pressure, and I’m a perfect example.  In fact, I’m better than the Met. Bureau, I can predict a weather change a day or two in advance, just “feeling it in my bones” [said in quavery nana voice].  This means trouble; lots of pain, swollen inflamed joints and muscle spasms galore – on top of the “usual” snafu. 

So, May.  Barometric pressure swooping UP and DOWN every six hours; daily temperatures bounding from min to max in huge leaps [eg, 6C in the morning, with a top of 26C? … fuck me], lots of rain, insanely high humidity, thunderstorms.  Crazy.

The result being I spent most of May in bed, yelping pitifully and shovelling in handfuls of painkillers and muscle relaxants with the occasional totter to the microwave to nuke my heat pack once again [which is another bummer; it’s full of fucking WHEAT and I’m allergic to wheat and the smell makes me want to puke, le sigh].

[And then there’s the fact that I haven’t been eating, like ANYTHING, because I have no appetite and I puke at the mere thought; oh and did you know that morphine makes you constipated?  Wheeee!  My mid-section feels like it’s made of concrete.]

. . . . . . . . . .

Gluten-free days

No matter how picky I try to be, my bookmarks list in IE frequently gets a bit out of control and I have to go through and do a bit of a cull of sites and blogs I no longer visit, for whatever reason.  If I get fed up with a blog or site, no matter how famous, my response is to – get this – stop reading.  Given the amount of hate mail famous bloggers receive along the lines of “I used to like you but since you [insert life-changing event] your site SUCKS”, my response is quite unusual, even if I tend to agree. [I’m naming no names … ]

The links I give on my blog are my ultimate preciousesssss and while I may not stop by one or two as frequently as I used to I always return to their safe and beloved pages [I mean, url’s].   One site I hadn’t visited for a while is Gluten Free Girl, who I’ve enjoyed since her beginnings [who could forget her red wedding cowboy boots?]; it was so good to check back and see what she was up to - a book out, and a baby on the way, no less.

Not to mention G-Free Girl’s food is downright yummy [there’s a recipe there for G-Free Irish Soda Bread which I have to make for my own gorgeous Irishman].  It got me thinking though, that I rarely post about being gluten free and Coeliac Disease.  EDS and my sundry aches, pains and grizzles get the air-time, which isn’t fair; not to mention there’s way more people who can relate to Coeliac and it’s distressing consequences than can to my other, more rare, auto-immune whatsit.

I’m going to put up an “About Coeliac Disease” page but I hope to post a bit more than I have been, about going gluten-free and the life changes, gluten-free food and recipes.

Rock star

We have had some major drama with Ruadhàn over the past few days, when he made a fine attempt at taking on a rock star lifestyle, well the drugs part anyway.  [He seems to prefer the blues, and as for sex, well he’s neutered so that could only ever be a faint dream.]

On Thursday night Tux and I were watching Gordon Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares*, became a little preoccupied and so missed most of the programme.  We also missed seeing exactly where Ruadhàn found the capsule of heavy-duty painkiller that he was disembowelling so flamboyantly on the carpet.  Nooooooo!

Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ …

I’m back, finally, after weeks of packing, moving, unpacking, organising and re-organising, settling into Our Very Own Home.  It’s been exhausting, and oh-so-wonderful.  We got 98% of the move done in one day, which is pretty incredible by anyone’s standards.  Getting everything well packed, boxed up and clearly marked, and keeping a running spreadsheet of what was packed in what box and it’s final location in New House was time-consuming but worth it.   I had to go back to The Hovel a couple more times in the following weeks to clean and do various chores which was unbelievably depressing.   It’s so good to be out of there …

Our house [in the middle of the street ... ]

We’re currently right in the middle of the Joy Of Packing up the contents of our flat [aka The Hovel] for our move on Monday … from the rental into our very very own house!  Wahey!  Moving is exhausting and stressful, no doubt about it.  We’re pretty experienced at this by now though so have a good system going, and my penchant for lists and spreadsheets does come in handy even if I get a bit of flak for it at times … Heh.

Beauty and the beast: Hair

Hair / Long beautiful hair / Shining, gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen … 

Hair can be the bane of a person’s life.  Too much, too little, too straight, too curly, too thick, too fine, too unmanageable.  An enormous industry is built on thousands of products of must-haves to curl, volumise, texturise, smooth, straighten, condition, tame, tousle, gloss, silken. 

Then there’s all the tools – ionic hair dryers with names that sound like James Cameron movies, ceramic hair straighteners and curling irons, I don’t know what else [no, really, I don’t know, have no idea]. 

Aoife and Ruadhan update - 03/08

We took the kitties to the vet last week for their yearly vaccinations and check-up.   Our lovely vet, who saw us through the long bout of cat flu last year [and who was so supportive and sweet to me when Abigail had to be put to sleep] was thrilled to see us – but especially thrilled to see the fluffballs.

He was especially impressed with Aoife.  As I lifted her out of her crate I was coo-ing “come on, little girl …” and Dr A’s eyes widened and he said “oh my goodness!  That’s not little!  Are you sure it’s a cat?”  She is rather magnificent, it’s true.  She weighed in at over 6 kg, a big difference from August last year, when Dr A. wasn’t optimistic about her chances of making it.  He gave her a big cuddle and stroke and she played up to him, like the big tart she is.

Riding lesson no. 1

After last week’s frustrating time with medical secretaries and trying to get my medical consent form signed [until I had that in my hot little hand I couldn’t ride] I was well and truly champing at the bit for my FIRST LESSON of the term on Tuesday.  I’ve missed two lessons because of paperwork, but there’s another class I can go to during the week, on Thursdays, so I can have extra lessons to make up the missed ones.  Wahey!

So Tuesday was my first lesson; I was all dressed and ready to go.  Black eventer’s helmet, check; horse-frightening black jods, check; riding gloves, check but not required yet, also in this heat my hands would be swimming in sweat in thirty seconds; jodhpur boots, required - I borrowed a pair for the lesson and am off to buy a nice wee pair of jodhpur boots today.  Lashings of SPF 30+ sunscreen, check.  Dad picked me up and drove me out to the stable …

AND I HAD THE BESTEST, MOST WONDERFUL TIME EVER !!! [!!!]

Depressing thoughts

There have been a lot of articles and studies reported lately, regarding anti-depressant medications - SSRIs* in particular - over-prescription of such medication, and efficacy thereof.

*  SSRIs = Selective Serotonin Re-uptake Inhibitors; a class of anti-depressants that increases the levels of the neurotransmitter serotonin.  Basically [very basically!], increased levels of serotonin improves sense of well-being, activity levels, social confidence.  Brand names include Prozac, Seroxat, Efexor.

For the record I should state that I’m very much in favour of the use of SSRIs for the treatment of depression. 

[No] Ticket to ride …

Well, DAY-UM, I never got to ride this week!  Talk about disappointed … 

The whole story is very boring and of the “she said … then SHE said” variety, but basically I needed either one of my two doctors [the rheumatologist / sports medicine guy or my GP] to sign a consent form for the RDA.  Just a squiggle under a paragraph stating that given the normal risks yadda yadda there was no reason for me not to engage in aforementioned activities.  That’s all.  As I’d discussed the plan to take up riding again with both docs, and they were both very pleased with the idea, I figured getting the sig. would be EASY.

No.  No.  And again NO.  You know why?  Because of deliberately obstructive bitches of medical receptionists, that’s why.  Who simply refused to take the form and try and get it signed, even over several days. 

Now, I’ve been a medical receptionist-type person  - I was Executive Assistant [a posh PA – also with higher pay] to a transplant surgeon and I know how difficult it can be to catch these guys between patients / surgery / consults and get letters signed, prescriptions made out etc etc.  But still … AARGH. 

An entire two weeks of lessons lost, and meanwhile the folks out at the RDA Centre were being so accommodating and saying “oh if you can’t make Tuesday, come Thursday” … but I still missed Thursday too.

*bangs head against wall*

*cries*

*crosses fingers for this week*