All I Want

Apparently in a past life or in heaven or whatever you believe we all picked roles and I picked the role of caretaker. I'm fairly decent at taking care of people and I do enjoy it. I like that people need me. I love that people share things with me but sometimes like right this second all I want is for someone to take care of me. I don't even care who. I just want someone who gives a shit about me, who can actually listen to me and then wrap their arms around me and tell me that everything is going to be okay.

I'm not in a bad place. I'm okay. Life is great but right now I don't want to be in charge of my life anymore.

That's all.

Oops!

Today during part of my lunch break I was driving around listening to X96 the local alternative radio station and the DJ was doing some kind of alphabet play list and needed an "O" song and started playing Justin Bieber's "One Less Lonely Girl". I will admit that something in my brain thought that it was a little weird and then the DJ cut in and said, "What did you think I'd lost my mind?" and started playing "Only Happy When it Rains". Yeah, way more appropriate.

Still giggling.

Road to Recovery

I almost died. There I said it. Some of you know about some of this and some of you have been forced to listen to me complain about it for months and for that I'm sorry. But for the most part I've kept a lot of it to myself. I've known I was sick for a long time but kept ignoring it. I'd have really rough days and feel as if I could barely keep my head up or get random comments like "you look horrible are you okay" or my favorite, "Let's go in the bathroom and put some blush on you before your dad sees you looking like that". And I'd think about going to the doctor but then I'd change my mind. Or, a couple of times I made commitments to myself...after I get through this project at work I'll go. Or after my trip to San Francisco or New York or after the 5K. But in the end just kept doing my thing and pretending that I'd be okay if I just rested a lot. And I know deep down that rest does not contribute to red blood cell growth but I kept pretending I was okay and that things would work out. And yes, I'm a very good pretender and an excellent actress. During all of this I was exercising a lot. I was training for my work's 5K and riding my bike all over town, doing the 30 Day Shred and Kettlebells, etc. etc. No one knows how I did all of this. Not me. Not the doctors. But I did and now I can say a couple of things contributed to me finally getting a referral from Elizabeth and making the appointment. One of those things was that my heart starting beating irregularly. Especially when I was running. Rather than going to the doctor I just started running at the hospital track cause you know...if something happens there at least I'll be closer. The second thing happened while I was babysitting my niece Bella one Sunday afternoon. Bella is four and has very high energy and we had played in the house, took a really long walk, jumped on the trampoline, and then she wanted to play house so went into her bedroom and she said to me "I'm going to be the mama and you will be my sweetie". Her way of being older and being in charge which was perfectly fine with me because I was able to crash on her bed. I'm posting the picture we took of us that day and I know I look horrible. I think that's what finally did it. I laid there praying Jeff would get home soon because I was afraid I was going to pass out and not wake up.

Finally I made an appointment and only cancelled it once. I went to the doctor and made her promise that no matter what she wouldn't hospitalize me. She told me "If you can walk into my clinic and run 4-5 miles every other day then there are other ways of dealing with the anemia". Little did Dr. H know the power of pure will because she was surprised when she got the results back and saw how bad my blood was. I knew it was serious once again when the actual doctor called with my results and not the nurse and we talked and made arrangements for me to go to the hospital and have tw0-three iron infusions a week. I hate iron infusions because they make me ill but I hate them a lot less than three days in the hospital so I happily agreed. Between the time of the original blood test and the first treatment my blood got even worse and went from "4" to "less than one". But we didn't know that at the time. I think that little bit of information fell through the cracks between the hospital and my doctor and enabled me to run the Freedom 10K on the 4th of July. On the 5th I went to the clinic at the hospital for my infusion and the nurse asked me what I did for the holiday and I told him I ran a 10K and he looked at me and then looked at my chart and then looked at me again and said, "How?" I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "I wanted to". I know during all of this I scared a lot of you and I'm sorry. So much so that even my father who notices nothing begged me to not do the race. But in my defense I had worked so hard and couldn't skip it. It was one of the hardest physical things I've ever done but I was super proud of myself when it was over.

So now after 15 infusions and a lot of horrible nausea and acheyness and general ick I feel a lot better. My blood and iron are normal and after a two week hiatus from exercise I'm back to running. Not biking and everything else yet but I'm running again and training for the Mammoth 10K in September. It's a downhill race and I'm actually really nervous about it. Especially after talking to Chaddy who ran it last year and telling me that at a certain point his knees nearly snapped. Oh yay!

I'd like to thank all of my friends and family who have been incredibly supportive the last few months. To RHC for bringing me dinner and treats and for understanding that it is August 17th and we still have not biked the canyon. For everyone who forgave me when I had to cancel plans because I didn't feel good. For TJ who wanted to run the 10K with me at my pace in case I had a problem during the race. I told her that there were 250,000 people looking out for me so I'd be okay. For those of you who threatened to call my mother and tell my boss I'm grateful for your love and friendship. And for everyone who had to listen to me complain. Thank you all!

I've made some promises to take my meds three times a day, get weekly B-12 shots and continue to get my blood tested with more regularity. I promised my mother. I promised Dr. H and most importantly I promised myself. The meds make me feel horrible but a couple of hours of daily nausea is better than dying so I'm on board. I promise.

Happiness = The Moth

Happiness = listening to The Moth. All Day Long.

That's all.

Ahhhh, I Miss This Place!

I miss you.

HobbiesHobbiesHobbies!

Hi, my name is Angie and I have an addictive personality. My particular addiction manifests itself in hobbies. I like taking classes and trying new things and the thing I've recently realized is that all hobbies come with their own set of expensive equipment. Here's a quick snapshot of some of my hobbies and the ridiculous amounts of stuff that they require:

*Scrapbooking -- oy vey there's no words to even describe all the shiz you have to have in order to do this particular hobby. I've gotten rid of nearly everything since I rarely if ever participate in this anymore but there's still all kinds of stuff a person needs to even make a quick thank you card.
*Photography -- cameras, lenses, tripods, memory cards, etc etc etc. Oh, and the classes that go with this and the fact that you need to have a relationship with a good printer so that all your hard work looks great.
*Baking -- when I moved back from New York I owned nothing and when I started baking originally it was to fill the void of no-good baked goods in this town. It later morphed into a very important coping/therapeutic tool but let's just say that I used to bake a lot. And baking requires a bazillion tools. Every time I made something new I had to buy or borrow something to complete the project.
*Cake decorating -- my obsession with baking died out for the most part but then I started cake decorating or in my case cake destroying. I wish I had known how incredibly sucky I'd be at this before I bought every single tool a person could or would need.
*Biking--so yeah you need a bike. And a helmet, and a pump and that green goo, and a water bottle, and a bike lock and then you need a new bike because the bike you have is a piece of shiz and requires WAY more work to get around town than it should.
*Jogging--obviously you need good shoes but did you know that good shoes only last so long? I've been jogging since Spring and already I had to buy new shoes the end of June. Not only good (expensive) shoes, but $20 socks that don't slide, and a knee band, and a stop watch, and razor back tanks, and good pants that hold in all the flab, and an armband for my phone and a fully charged shuffle so I don't lose my mind while jogging and something to hold water on long runs, and blah blah blah.

I could go on and on but I'm starting to sound like the crazy person I am so I will stop now. I did just realize that Blogging requires nothing extra. Hmmm, this might be my new favorite hobby.

Sweet is the Smell

This morning while I was running I realized that my neighborhood is one gigantic combination of scents -- some wonderful and some not so wonderful. The first leg of my run I always smell fabric softener which is truly one of my favorite scents. One of these days I will run into someone using the stuff that the hot Dominican guy who did my laundry in NYC used and I'll knock on their door and ask what it is. I've been searching for that scent for years. So, first I get the sweet pleasure of smelling fresh laundry. Then, as I run down the hill and around the corner on 1200 I get to smell a combination of some kind of animals. One day I ran into a sheep but usually it is dogs and horses. Then further up the block I run past the house that ALWAYS no matter what time I'm running: early morning, afternoon, night smells like pot. Further up the block as I pass 200 I get to smell more horses -- there are a lot of random homes with horses in the neighborhood--the zoning is all wacky if you ask me. As soon as I turn onto State Street and way before I can even see it I begin smelling the wonderfulness that is Smoking Apple BBQ restaurant. Even at 7 a.m. that place smells incredible and makes me think I want to eat dinner. I wish I could go on smelling BBQ but shortly after that fades into the wind I get the unbelievably powerful scent of dogs that probably aren't being taken care of. They used to bark like crazy when I ran past their cage but they know me by now and so they sit and I smell and then I hold my breath as long as I can (really hard when you are trying to control your breathing while jogging--especially at the top of a hill). Finally after the nasty scent of gross dogs leaves my nose I get the also not so pleasant smell of pesticides from the fruit trees. Yes, there are still fruit trees in Orem. And finally and happily after the fruit trees I get the wonderful sweet smell of home and a successful run!

P.S. It isn't lost on me that one of the scents I get to smell is my nasty self at the end of the run. Thank goodness for soap and shampoo and a hot shower!