Carpal Tunnel

 About three-ish months ago, I started having numbness and tingling in my finger tips. This quickly turned into PAIN. It got so bad one Saturday night that it woke me up while I was sleeping. By Monday, I decided it was time to consult my doctor. I went to the doctor and he did a couple things to my hands/wrists and told me he thought I had carpal tunnel. He scheduled me for a Nerve Conduction Study and we waited. The appointment for the test came and it was very unpleasant. 

My doctor said the results showed I had moderate carpal tunnel and he referred me to a specialist. That appointment was yesterday. I really liked the doctor. He said the test showed I had MILD carpal tunnel, but after he did his exam, he said he disagreed and it was more severe than that. He only examined my right (dominate) arm. 

Let me side note here. my symptoms since my first visit with my doctor have went from my finger tips, to my entire fingers, to my entire hand, and up to my elbow. That all happened in about three months.

He gave me three options. 1) Do nothing and wait. He said given how quickly my symptoms were progressing, he didn't recommend that. 2) I could do steroid shots but they wouldn't be a permanent solution and would have to be repeated every so often. or 3) We could do surgery and see if that would help.

I am not interested in doing something that isn't a permanent fix. This is painful. It is to the point now that I can't even stand to hold John's hand on my right side. At times it makes it difficult to grip the steering wheel and the strength in that hand is decreasing. We both agreed that surgery would be the best option. He said after we did surgery on the right side we would "reevaluate and see if we wanted to do the left." 

Right now, I am waiting for the surgery coordinator to call me to schedule the surgery. I know nothing is 100%, but I am ready to get this done. He said he would be releasing two different nerves, but I do not remember what either of them where called. He said one was at my wrist and one was at/near the elbow. 

Please pray that this fixes things and for a gentle recovery. Thanks everyone! 

4.0

 No, that's not my GPA! (I wish!) I finally made it to 4.0 MPH on the Walking Pad!!! I did it yesterday for most of my walk, but today, I started and finished my walk at 4.0, except my cool down time! I am so proud of myself. That was supposed to be part of April's goals, but it ended up happening early. 

Glaucoma Update

 I saw my eye doctor for a glaucoma check up today. My pressures were 13 and 15! Those were great pressures he said. I go back for a full (annual) exam in September. Yay! I am considering bifocals because I am tired of switch between wearing my glasses and taking them off to read. I will talk to him more about it when I go back. 

He Calls Me Daughter

 This is starting as a blog post that will probably get C&P'd to FB. This is a trigger warning for all of my siblings that this post talks about my relationships with both of my parents. You may or may not want to read this. I am not posting this to hurt anyone. In fact, I have tried to be very sensitive with my posts regarding both of my parents because I know they both did the best they could to love me in the ways they knew how. This talks about them, but ultimately, this is about ME and my healing and I am working on not apologizing for existing/for healing out loud just because it may bother someone. That being said, here's the post. 

Tonight I went to see the film "He Calls Me Daughter." I had been planning to see it for a few weeks. Originally, I had planned to see it when it came out the first time the first week of March, but I forgot the dates and missed it. I am so thankful that they did an encore showing last night and tonight. I knew I would be in my feelings as I watched this, but I didn't expect just how much I would be. 

This film follows these women who had broken relationships with their fathers and how they found healing by ultimately finding Christ. Although each story was different, I could see pieces of myself in each of the stories. The women who felt unloved and unworthy of love. The women who would turn to sex and relationships to fill the emptiness inside them. The women who struggled with trusting anyone because of how they had been let down by the one man who was suppose to be their (earthly) everything. The list goes on and on.

I have struggled most of my life with blaming myself because my dad wasn't present in my life until adulthood. I always knew he had other children so growing up I would question what was so wrong with me that I couldn't be a part of that too. In my adult years, I found out that he absolutely was the man that I thought he was. He was a great man and father to his other children. So something MUST be wrong with me for me not to have the relationship the I so desperately craved with him. Every negative emotion I felt, I turned inward because it must be by fault. I'd like to tell you that before he passed, that we sat down and had the healing conversation that I so desperately needed. I wish I could tell you that I heard him tell me he loved me. None of that is true. Part of that responsibility lies with me, though. There were so many hard conversations that needed to be had, but I was so scared to have them. I was scared that if I pushed for more than he was comfortable giving that he would shut me out. I was willing to have a surface relationship with him than no relationship at all. 

Now, let me just stop right here for a moment. I have met many people who knew my daddy. Some who worked with him. Some who participated in other activities with him, I've met all of my siblings, their mothers, his friends and random people (to me) who just knew him. I've yet to find someone who had a bad word to say about him in my adult life. Outside of my existence and the choices that were made by both of my parents to get them, and me, where we are today, no one had anything bad to say about my Dad.  

I know my mom. I grew up with her. I know how fiercely she loved and protected me and how she was afraid of losing me. I am not naive to believe she is one hundred percent innocent in my lack of relationship with my dad. I was once told a story about circumstances that I didn't find out wasn't 100% true until after I met Dad. (The story came from my brother and not Dad so I know there was truth in it.) For those interested, I never heard a bad word come from his mouth about Mom. Both Dad and my Bonus Mama never said anything negative to me about her and I deeply respect them for that. 

I cannot fully say that I regret the way I was raised. I do not have memories of my parents constantly bad mouthing each other. I do not have memories of the going back and forth. I don't have memories of two birthdays, two Christmases, or any of the negative things you think of when it comes to parents who aren't married. Still, there is part of me that would trade all of the goodness just to experience the inclusion of all the hugs I missed, all the love I missed, etc. 

In many ways, the "sins of the parents" has bled over into my relationship with God - the ultimate Father. Every single relationship I have ever experienced has been met with conditional love (or so it seems) "I love you...if you do this right." "I love you... so long as you don't do this wrong..." "I love you... but only as long as" In some ways, I guess I am still waiting for God to say, "Okay, this is the last time, I am picking you up. I won't clean you off again. I have forgiven you for the last time. There are no more chances. This is it!" I want to say I understand that He is God and he isn't prone to human emotion, and I know that, but I don't KNOW that. If the ones who created me wanted to end my life before it even really got started, I have trouble reconciling that with the Father Who tells me He loved me so much He would send his Son to die for me. Love, in every relationship I've ever had has always been conditional. So what happens when He's had enough of me, too? Trusting God is a work in progress for me. He's never let me down, but I keep thinking He will eventually get tired of me and leave me too. 

(Yes, I am aware my therapist has her work cut out for her. She has enough work to last her up until an hour after her funeral, but I'm working on that!)

Vyvanse - Day 1

 I have been in the process of being diagnosed with Binge Eating Disorder for a few weeks, but now, I officially have the diagnosis. A few weeks ago my dietician suggested that I talk talk to my doctor about BED so I made an appointment with my PCP. During the wait for the appointment, I had an appointment with the PA/NP with my bariatric clinic who also gave the diagnosis of Binge Eating Disorder. Both she and my PCP seem to be in agreement that this is what I am dealing with. I have talked a bit about this before, but I will probably talk about it a bit (a lot) more now that we have a game plan. Yesterday, I met with my PCP who prescribed Vyvanse to help treat BED. 

So what is BED? Well, you can google that. I will say when this was first suggested that I had this, I was like "uh, I do not think I have this," but as I looked at the symptoms and compared them to my symptoms and behaviors I agreed with everyone else that, yes I do have this. 

Today was my first day of taking the medication. I intentionally made sure I did my walk before taking my medication so I couldn't attribute the success of the walking pad with the new medication. I know when I started taking Phentermine, it gave me such an increase of physical and emotional energy that it really kept me pepped up at first. I did not want to associate getting back on the walking pad for the first time in forever with the side effects (even though they'd be good) with this new medication. 

I cannot say I had many side effects that I would notice except for lunch. Breakfast I had a protein shake. For lunch, I had a small burrito. I ate that fine. I stopped when I was full and all was good. About 30 minutes after I finished lunch my stomach decided to rebel against me. I got so nauseous that I though I was going to vomit. I laid down and took a small nap. I was fine when I got back up. This afternoon I had a couple laughing cow cheese wedges and 6 pretzel crisps. For dinner I had a salad and half a hamburger patty from dinner the other night. I can see the appetite suppressant with this medication so far (aside from the nausea), but not many side effects good or bad other than that so that is good. We will see how tomorrow goes! 

Hello Walking Pad My Old Friend

 It has been a good long while since I have had a date with the walking pad. I had a mental block as well as a physical block about getting back on it. I am a creature of habit. I do fine as long as do something EVERY DAY. Well, unfortunately I was walking every single day with no breaks. When I got to the point that clinic kept fussing about me not losing (or losing fast enough) I got up to two hours a day...then 4 hours a day on my walking pad. It got to the point that I was waking up at 2 AM on some mornings (like Sundays) if I had something to do if it stopped me from walking first thing in the morning. Somewhere along the way I lost my joy (or as an old friend used to say "my want to") so I stopped for a day. It didn't become an abrupt stop. But one day made it easier to stop again and then that became another stop then instead of stopping for one day...one day became two... two became several... several became a week. Weeks became a month. And then I told myself that I wasn't getting back on it until I could be consistent. Oh, I tried a couple times, but the times I tried, I just felt like a failure because I wouldn't stick with it. I wouldn't do four hours... or I wouldn't do every day... So I just quit. 

Let me stop for a minute and tell you something. I have had to learn to accept help. I have a great set of friends and family who support me through this, but I would be remiss if I failed to spotlight the help of my therapist and my dietician. My therapist has been pushing me to get back on the walking pad, to walk outside, to do anything that gave me some type of movement. For weeks, my dietician (Thank you NOURISH!) has been encouraging me to get back to moving. I had an appointment with her yesterday. She has offered all kinds of things that went above and beyond what I feel are her responsibilities to help see me succeed. Yesterday she told me she would send me a message each morning to remind me to get on the walking pad. Do I need to be reminded to get on the walking pad? No. It sits in my room taunting me all hours of the day. I do not need the reminder, but her kindness and willingness to go above and beyond touched my heart. She also told me that I didn't have to do an hour. She told me that any movement was progress and that we could work up to my goal of an hour. (read TWO...or more) 

I cannot tell you exactly what it was that broke through to me, but SOMETHING (along with God's grace) got my lazy butt up this morning and I got on the walking pad. I didn't have a goal set in stone. I wanted to do an hour. I wanted to do 3.5 mph (where I believe I left off at), but I would've been fine (I think) with any amount of movement because it was more than I did yesterday. I got on the walking pad, turned on my Christian music play list. I turned the WP to 3.5 MPH and walked for an hour. I am tired, but it's a good tired. Now I feel like I can face the day with confidence instead of dread because I have completed the task that usually looms over my head all day. 

Menopause

 Well this is a life curve I wasn't ready for. Let's back up for a moment. About ten years ago (give or take), I had a D&C. My uterine lining was too thick because of my PCOS. The testing came back as pre-cancerous and I was told that I would need to stay on Provera (progesterone) daily to prevent my lining from becoming too thick again. I had ultrasounds every six months to check the status of my lining. All was status quo until last September. I had my routine ultrasound and my lining was "very thin." They attributed it to the hormonal changes from my weight loss/ weight loss surgery. I was told to stop taking the Provera daily and only take it periodically to induce a period instead of abstain from one. I took a round of Provera in November and nothing happened. I took another round in January and again, nothing happened. I called my OB/GYN after a couple weeks and she scheduled me for another ultrasound. I had that on Monday along with bloodwork. 

She called me today and "out of the blue" announced that I was in menopause. I am 42 so I guess it wasn't "out of the blue" but I do not have the classic symptoms of menopause. I am not overly moody (even asking John...), no hot flashes, etc. If anything, these days, I am freezing more often than not (thanks WLS!)

My lab results showed I have "no" estrogen levels, no progesterone levels and no testosterone levels and my Vitamin D levels are low, despite what the bariatric doctor has been telling me. I will be starting Estrogen, progesterone (again) and a testosterone routine as soon as we can see what the insurance will cover vs. what it will not. 

To be honest, I am not ok. I feel like the rug has been ripped out from under me. I find myself grieving for all the what ifs. I don't think I truly wanted more children, but John and I had always said we'd leave our family size up to God and if HE chose to bless us with more we would gladly accept as many as He gave us. I am in the throes of teenagers and adulthood. I do not know if I have it in me to start from stage one again. Our family was built through adoption so I know if we decided we wanted more children we could adopt again. That isn't what this is about. This is a chapter of my life closing that I had no warning or no say so in whatsoever. 

I know me well enough to know I would have grieved my (lack of) fertility with or without warning of menopause. It is just extra tender right now because there was no warning. I didn't get the warning of missed/ spaced out periods because I have PCOS. That is part of the game. And like I said earlier, the medication I was on caused me not to have periods at all. I have spent the better part of the last few hours thinking about this. "Well, if xyz would've happened, I would handle this better.." No, really, I wouldn't. This is where I am. I just need to sit with it, grieve over it until I can make peace with it, and get past it. I am not one of those women who celebrate this stage of life, at least not yet, but I pray I will find the reason to celebrate this next stage of life very soon.