Monthly Archives: January 2011

What No One Tells the Bride

An essential read. I studied a copy of it right after the wedding. I just re-borrowed it from the library. I’ve been married for a year now. The book says it takes an average of two years for a new bride to understand her place and identity in the marriage. I wish I had read it before I freaked out about the subtleties that appear fresh after the honeymoon plane landing. If no other benefit, its serves to throw at your husband if he wants to you wear skanky pj’s when he insists that the AC should be at 71 degrees.

“It should be required reading for every bride.”
–  John Gray, author of
Men Are From Mars,
Women Are From Venus
 

“What No One Tells the Bride” is the inside scoop – good and bad – on what it’s really like being married.

In the pages of this perennial bestseller, journalist Marg Stark breaks the newlywed code of silence and exposes the profound adjustments brides often experience.

Stark and 50 newly married women tell their stories – showing others how to handle turbulence on cloud nine – and reveal marital truths, such as:

  • You don’t feel like a “Mrs.” Sometimes you even dream about old flames.
  • You write all the wedding gift thank-you notes.  So are you doomed to your mother’s life – 60 years of doing more than your share?
  • Making love is the last thing on your mind when you have the flu and haven’t showered for days.  But he still wants to.
  • You tell him you got these incredible bargains and quietly resent having to justify your spending.
  • You have shining moments when marriage feels absolutely right, but nevertheless you pine for something more.

Humorous and compassionate – with advice from marriage counselors, ministers, financial advisors, and sex therapists – What No One Tells the Bride is not only a practical guide for every newly married woman, it also makes the perfect wedding shower gift.

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/078688262X/qid=1104999106/sr=1-1/ref=sr_1_1/104-3440821-8143117?v=glance&s=books


Read it, buy it as I will when finances pick back up (newlyweds can often be broke). And then go yell at your mother, “WHY DIDN’T YOU WARN ME?”

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The Pipi Dance

Every hour on the hour, I’m downing a concoction of herbal teas found here:

http://www.nutritionarticlesonline.com/bladder_bacterial_infection.html

I’ve had a UTI for over two weeks; for about a year, depends when you start counting.  Seems I was ripped out of my wedding dress into ripping pain where no woman should ever have troubles.  My immune system was already weak  during this time. Autoimmune symptoms increased after that. My body no longer heals the way it did just a year and a half ago. I’ve had some good weeks, but not this time. Last week, I held out medieval torture in the nether regions to avoid a trip to the ER for pipi pain, all to no avail. I was in a backless gown of the wrong kind for the wrong reason. Antibiotics, as many of you may know, can grow resistant to certain bacteria strains if there is overuse throughout the years or  poor immune. Well, add to that my recent introduction to birth control pills for population control in our new household, which puts all women at higher risk for lupus (information I didn’t know at the time), all things medicine that was being administered by my doctors got me where I am today: excited about peeing like a racehorse.

Although I will discuss in this blog all the hardships, different symptoms, and trial and error remedies that comes with being chronically ill, I don’t intend to really explain too much beyond the basics of what, how, when, and why this pathology works. I do enough research and fret enough about how tough its been to make the adjustment without becoming an alcoholic. I lie, I’m not an alcoholic cause liquor is off the menu. The point is, I’ve devoted intense time and effort finding out what I have, where the doctors misled me (and mislead so many more), what treatments work or don’t work, and how far one can and should push themselves when rest is the only thing that makes inflammation symptoms tolerable. I’m not going to educate others too much on the subject unless they’re interested.  I relate best with those who have had some serious tribulations with sickness or are experiencing freakish ailments that they can’t figure out. I commiserate well and empathize all too well.

I’m just here to talk about how hard it is to deal, but how possible it is to be okay with it most days. It’s not about complaints, unless I specifically choose to vent. If you don’t let it out, it’s gonna blow out of some orifice. It best be the mouth.

Today, at my wits end and wallets dark corners, after the antibiotics plan going kaput, and the homeopathic remedies not working, and peanut butter making me clench my nice parts so much…I decided to use the very little energy that Lupus rations you per day to attack this mofo. And so I found the abovementioned site. Spent too much money at Chuck’s health food store. As a housewife who doesn’t know how to boil, steam, or even cut vegetables all that proper, I managed to trek our locality in bumper-to-bumper traffic, find some rare produce for a simpleton, and slave in the kitchen making celery and parsley smoothies for a bladder flush that may or may not work.

After what is plain laboring to most housewives, to me it’s a mountain on top of an infection. My feet are swollen, my back feels strange with sensations I still don’t know how to accurately describe (part of the mission is to determine and know what I’m going through in an articulate way), my head pounding, my skin breaking in hives, and stomach rejecting more liquids, I feel proud. Proud that I don’t take no for an answer. If that doesn’t work, I will see a doctor tomorrow. I will not cry unless the pain physically pushes out tears from tear ducts. There is no space to wish these problems away.  One day, I plan to barely have inflammation. I plan to use an elliptical like I used to. I will defy the weaknesses of my body. I will pee in the wind.

My kitchen is mostly a wreck. Some groceries unpacked and pants will be propped on the same floor spot they were undone. The laundry will rest motionless in the dryer overnight. My joints and muscles are spent and if that’s what my home will look like tonight, so be it. Because tomorrow I may be hit with a sunburst of painless energy and I’ll rearrange the furniture. Excuse me, I shall leave you until next time. Gotta go potty.

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Filed under Housewifing, Under the Weather

Post a Week – Screening Nature Calls

Nature gave me a call I didn’t want to receive. I’m constantly talking about how I feel, what hurts, what I think triggered a flare, when in time did my body start going overboard. Since I went on a no-fun diet (allergen and trigger free), I’m hyper aware of whats about to happen if I don’t maintain strict adherence to the green-light foods. I can’t help but coddle this autoimmune disease in order to preserve some health and sanity. When my body rings the alarm, I cannot ignore it.  My diagnosis is recent, so the first few months, I reckon there will be a bit of attention going toward a kind, non-overbearing regimen. In December, there was a lot to think about, some tears (mostly of relief to finally know what the heck was happening). Then there is the treatment to follow, blah, blah, blah. It’s nonstop chatter about medical issues this, connective tissue that.

However, I say to myself and anyone else living with chronic symptoms,  hang up on it and deal with it on your own terms.  The easy thing to do would be to give in, let it control every aspect of me, back activity and creativity into a corner. I’m not saying to pretend the problem isn’t there, but there is only so much you can do about it. There must be limits before the disease takes over your personality. Mind over matter, people! The body may dictate what aches and pains you will have, but the mind can still decide if its going to be sad about it or proactive.

I’m not claiming it is easy.  There are days where I have to baby each and every little obstacle I face, mostly just disbelief that this is actually happening. I need to ramble and vent and throw things at walls. I will call my mom, my most patient listener, and talk her head off.  Oh, I measure the outgoing content because there’s only so much people can or want to hear about being sick before you bring them down or come off as desiring a pity party. Then I text, email, or call the sister. Bless her heart, it’s taken her years to learn to process a turbo-charged motor mouth go on and on about red dye #40 and tingling in my knees. The husband, my diagnosis is his sentence as well, so I need to limit how I express myself to him so the masculine energy doesn’t freak out as he learns that women beating a subject to death doesn’t mean we’re dying, it’s just how we reach our conclusions. My mother-in-law, the saint that gets it the most, dealing with Rheumatoid Arthritis herself, is a great escape because we both can jabber on until the sun comes up. I’ve got an arsenal of sweet friends that listen to me in different ways. Some play therapists, the defendant, the cheerleaders, and some that threaten the universe for all the bad things happening.

But you have to see it from the point of view of an outsider viewing in. I’m not ready to hear people whisper “She’s a completely different girl after she got sick.”

“All she talks about is her issues.”

“She’s become dependent on whining.”

“Remember how fun she used to be?”

“I’m sick and tired of hearing about all the environmental things that are going to kill us all!”

But that’s where I’m learning to draw the line.  This is something you live with, not something should take over. For someone with control issues, I know how to accept what I can and cannot and where I can circumvent the problem and come through another way. Every once in a while, hang it up. Let the symptoms run in the background, but listen to everything else that remains the same and has room to grow.

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Filed under Loopy Lupus, Post A Week, Under the Weather

Post aWeek 2011 -Blog, Blog, Blog!

This is a form of a pledge, thankfully not a binding contract, that I will write at least once a week, every week, for the remainder of the year. I believe I’m selling myself short and can handle the Post a Day, but to avoid my usually unachievable expectations, I will start humble.  I can upgrade if and when I’m ready and trust my ability to articulate, even if poorly at times.

I hope hundreds of people are signing up for this.  I don’t want to be the only one in my circle of peers that is so motivated to keep up a discipline that I consider exciting. In other words, geek. Yet if I am the only one, so be it.  Nerds are cool.

I hope the level of quality doesn’t suffer because I might end up lazily trying to reach a quota.  If there’s no heart to the projects we take on, let there at least be mind until the heart catches up.  There are many habits we pick up excitedly and then let them lose their new-toy luster. Writing should not be one of them since it’s a most personally enhancing experience. Let there be no awkward silences.  The only reason for our writing and posts to dwindle is if lose our motivation to life and experience, in which we should take adopt the mission to be inspired. If we don’t see ourselves out there, well then, explore yourself until you can include the world in your narrative.

Self-made pep talk. Thank you very much.

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Motivation….Adderall Free

How intimidating a first post can be. Mind you, this is not the first post, or post blog for that matter, that I’ve entertained. This may be the 13th time I try. But before that, I used blogger.com. Now I’m serious: WordPress, baby.

It is now clear to me what I have to do in life to keep that balance we all need.  It is also clear how near-impossible it is to do it without a straight jacket.  What we deal with: the crappy diets we grew up with that we are just now accepting (or rejecting) how horrible we were treating ourselves, the overworked, under-paid jobs we have, the number of friends we can’t keep up with, the personal hobbies collecting dust, the doctor appointments we’re too sick to schedule, the paradoxical idling television ritual we have that paralyzes us more.

Here I am sharing my struggles with you and I have no idea how I’m to keep motivated and keep a soothing blogging voice, when I am no longer eligible to take Adderall.  Most of my adolescent and adult life I’ve been popping back addies for my lack of concentration and motivation. Thanks to my recent diagnoses, I’ve come to know that my fogginess and attention to bright, shiny things is a reaction to a food allergy.  My skippity-do husband gets to continue his legitimate jump-start prescription, while me and my little cloud have not only been cut off from my electric life force, but also coffee and average amounts of sugar. I can hear your tears drop on your cheek.

Yes, it all sounds like one big complaint. Wait… here comes the perky twist. Without gluten, I’m the most alert and accountable I’ve been since I can remember. Sucks for me! Now there are responsibilities, projects to undertake, socks that won’t pair themselves.  A steady diet  really does help poor memory.  This time I really will have to follow through. As a matter of fact, when I’m done with this post, I will sign up with the Post a Week that WordPress is hosting.

What this blog will pretend to be about:

– Describe the good and bad of dealing with autoimmune conditions

– Share articles, tidbits, products, links that help improve health overall

– Try out allergen friendly recipes from gluten-free to nightshade vegetable free

-Post pictures of my awesome cats and other photography experiences I dabble with along the way

-Sarah Palianinze words when it feels appropriate

-Laugh along with all the other housewives who have so much to accomplish in so little time in limited circumstances, whatever they   may be, i.e. single parents, disease, school, fatigue, bing’d out

-Let you in on some of my hilarious approaches, by way of anecdote, on how to improve oneself, nesting skills, organization,  accomplishments, run a home, and keep the house smelling like ocean breeze in the most easiest ways possible, and maybe suck at it

-Randomize

Don’t take my word for it, but I have a good feeling about this.

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