Podcast with Jerry Cahill: Welcome!

A few weeks ago, I was honored to record a podcast with Jerry Cahill for his series with the Boomer Esiason Foundation. While anyone who knows me in 3D will attest to the fact that I am certainly no Martha Stewart Fembot, I simply do.not.let.it.slide. on the organizational front when it comes to my health. I mean really, who cares if your ironing laundry is done or your spices alphabetized groceries put away if you're too healthy to wear anything but pajamas or eat anything but soup at all? 

I know it sounds like quite the leap to insist that a notebook of papers can be a direct, primary, make-or-break cause of maintaining a healthy baseline, but I swear on my falling-apart, please-don't-strand-me car that it does. 

If you wound up on this here little blog o' mine via Jerry's link (or the podcast itself, you good-listener, you) then HI! and Welcome. I'm still working on finishing a template of my "cheat sheet" that you can fill out for yourself, and redacting the boring-identity-details-you-don't-need-unless-you-plan-to-steal-them portions of my healthcare power of attorney so you can see an example of what such a document looks like for a chronically ill, control-freak twenty-something. I hope to have them up here by the end of the week, so stay tuned. In the meantime, feel free to poke around in my archives, or check out the links to the more popular, definitive posts - they're listed in the sidebar under "Breath Sentence: Greatest Hits". You can also click on the "New? Start Here" tab above to learn more about CF, why I started this blog, and what I'm all about. The "Resources" tab has links to lots of nifty little sites around the interwebs with info about various aspects of CF and other things I think are helpful.  Once I get the templates finished, I'll have links to them there as well. 

If you haven't listened yet, please check it out here.

Thanks again, hugely and publicly, to Jerry for the opportunity to do this. If you get a chance, swing by his website for podcast archives, and check out his actually-inspiring-not-just-catagorized-as-"inspiring"-video here. 

Even the Lazy Get Stir-Crazy

So, dear readers, I'm in need of your help. For reals. 

As poet laureate Ke$ha would say, here's the sitch.

I have a pretty adorable dog (egregiously featured on this here blog) named Cooper. He's a rescue, and so he's a little bit crazy in the head, but in pretty similar ways to myself, so I at least kind of understand him. Also, although he's easily startled, can't drink water without throwing it all up (that's right, I feed my dog crushed ice), has better-but-still-bad separation anxiety and a tendency to spite-poop, I still count him a net positive since he's a GREAT traveler, has no problem with thunder and storms, and as previously mentioned (and evidenced), physically adorable.

Also, LAZY. 

Seriously, most of the time, he is a total nap-whore. He will sleep with anyone, anytime, on any surface, for any reason and any length of time. 

A large part of my argument when persuading my parents (pardon me, "Lessor(s)") to allow me to adopt this dear creature was that he was a energetic, young, just-barely-not-a-puppy, whose DNA was at least partially comprised of a completely batshit rambunctious breed known for their need to be exercised - though not on insanely long walks, like physically huge dogs, or those bred to run. PERFECT motivation to get out and walk and get some exercise, though not biting off more than I can chew (or walk, I guess) when I'm sick, since he, his skinny little stilts can't go to far or long without tiring, himself. 

Wrong. I have never met a creature who gets as much actual JOY from laying around and/or sleeping, or who does so with as much frequency, as this little faux-fox. Except of course, me.

But even WE get a little stir-crazy and need some legit exercise from time to time. We also happen to live in a climate and near a city that combine to create some pretty intolerably toxic air in the summer. Not a problem for me, who can dance around my living room, or embarrass myself, alone, with attempts to keep up with Jackie Warner and friends on my teevee. 

The pup, however, has a problem. He does not quite have the cognitive capabilities to follow along with a DVD (though I think I should get extra fitness points for dodging his attempts to weave around me and figure out double ewe tee eff I am doing), and, God love him, he sucks at fetch. I'm working on that, but in the meantime, his pent-up energy is resulting in lots of FRAPping and tapping me on the arm, repeatedly and with increasing intensity, until I stop typing (or folding, or unpacking) and address his needs. At which point I ask if he wants to play, he joyously bounds over to get his stuffy-carcass-de-jour, and brings it to me. I throw it, he goes and gets it, runs around a little bit, then plops down to chew it (seriously, he sucks at fetch). And this cycle repeats itself roughly three times hourly until he becomes mentally exhausted (or frustrated) enough to relieve his anguish with a nap.

All this to say, I'm really starting to stress out because I know he needs the exercise, and added structure, that the occasional walk would provide. But simply walking him to the end of our (seriously long) driveway when the air is like this leaves me feeling like my lungs are an inflatable pool toy in the hands of an angry toddler. I half expect them to voluntarily flop out onto the concrete and flop away, glaring at me as they leave. 

So, fellow CFer's, or dog owners, or parents of rambunctious little asthmatics, or people who generally hate the outdoors, or whoever...

How can I keep my fetch-averse puppy exercised and happy when I'm unable to take him for walks?

Semi-Charmed Life

Some people think that I lead an incredibly charmed life. Roughly 87.63% of the time, they are correct to the point of understatement. 

I have a very cute dog...

A great living space, with a great kitchen....

And I even get to go on nifty vaycays con mi familia! 

 Even on the CF front, I kind of have it made. I pretty much always can cover my co-pays, I don't have to sweat it if I need a procedure, I have a (mostly) supportive and understanding group of people who love me and are there for me - or at least pretend as much convincingly. 

I even get cruise-ship towel-swans when I have to go to le hospitale!

But, as with anyone, my life is not always beautiful and perfect, strive though I may to make it so. I drive a very comfortable, well-equipped 1999 Acura. I have had it since I was a freshman in college (that's 2004, or seven years, for the mathematically-inhibited such as myself), I have driven it hard, and it's creeping close to that infamous 150k mile mark. Nevertheless, I am quite hesitant to get rid of it - mostly because it has a sun/moon roof, heated leather seats (though the plastic stitching came undone on the driver's seat, and I have to be careful when I'm wearing shorts or tights), a nice sound system (though one of the speakers is busted, no thanks to  Ludacris, circa 2005), automatic windows (though the driver's side motor has to be replaced kind of regularly, since the window gets stuck going up or down after a while)...anyway, I promise for a day-in day-out ride, it's more than adequate and it keeps me entertained (and my tushy warm in the wintertime). 

As of today, however....

it is slightly lacking in its, shall we say, "front right signal light". But seriously, the front ones are just a courtesy anyway, right? YOU'RE IN FRONT OF ME. Why is it any of your business where I plan to turn? (sidebar: see, America? see how I just did that, use "your" and "you're" in the same sentence? correctly? For the right price I can teach you, too, to make use of this special skill. OOOH shnap - a follow-up with "to" and "too"! I'm unstoppable). Time in. 

Anyway, my precious little hoopty has now crossed "that line". You know, the one where, no matter how beat up your car is, you can say "dude, it's not like it's held together with duct tape."

Nope. not anymore. 

So yeah - I know, I've got it good, better than most people in America, certainly exponentially better than most people in the big wide world - this is definitely a First World Problem, though I like to think I wouldn't throw a fit over a "stupid tsunami" holding up the supply chain if it does take an extra few days to replace. 

But there is a certain karmic irony in driving this particular vehicle, as-is, to my new job at a luxury clothing retailer. Such a timely reminder that I am not my things, no?

(but God help you if you damage my cuisinart).

A Month in Review...

Bullet-point style, yo. 

• I moved. Again. My lease ran up in SC, Most of my friends were moving too, I had no compelling reason to stay, and no money to do so, even if I wanted to. Ergo, I am back in NC, technically living with my parents. Again. 

• But... seeing as how I've moved into the entire lower level of their house which includes a full kitchen, living room, dining area, fireplace, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, patio and carport, with a locking door at the top of the stairs, AND seeing as how we have a rental contract and I'm paying rent, AND seeing as how Faja has taken to calling me "Tenant" with much amusement - I'm guessing per the fact that my name is replaced by "Tenant" throughout the aforementioned rental agreement... it's not quite the same as moving back into my old bedroom and washing dishes to earn my keep. So I tell myself, as to minimize the cognitive dissonance. 

• On a related note, I have way too much stuff. New motto: "It isn't hoarding if it's impeccably organized."

• The furchild is adapting incredibly well to the move. I was really concerned that he would be super-confused when we moved back, but only kinda-sorta-not-really, and he wasn't allowed upstairs freely, and was stuck with me instead of Grammy and Grampy (sidebar: I'll see your "Tenant" and raise you "grandparent names for a dog...that he responds to").  But he's doing really well. I guess that's yet another hidden upside to his "rescue" status - he can be really insecure and weird about a lot of things, but he really doesn't have a problem with moving, as long as I'm moving to the same place. Ditto with car rides - he's an *excellent* traveler. 

• I recently got a job as a sales associate with a well-known clothier whose name refers to a"politically unstable country dependent upon limited primary productions (e.g. bananas), and is ruled by a small, self-elected, wealthy, corrupt politico-economic plutocracy or oligarchy." (courtesy of wikipedia). I got the job to supplement my trading income, give me a little structure and reason to get out of the house that does *not* involve spending money, and yes, for the discount. But I'm really liking it so far, and really impressed with the corporation at large and its policies. So who knows where this might lead. For now, I'm really enjoying dressing up, organizing things, and helping people in developing and editing their wardrobes. 

• I turned 25 on June 28. Wooooohoooo, I can rent a car or a beach house. I had a very small, very impromptu partay that was right up my alley - fabulous food (mostly grilled), fabulous drinks, and very low-key, laid back socializing - including a very long discussion about whether the two-party system is irreparably broken, and how one would go about "starting small" in running for office when they live in an "incorporated community" with literally no local government, as well as the proper care of bromeliads and a horrified declaration by one birthday girl that she would NEVER get naked with plants. (Apparently, some people think that "shower" and "greenhouse" are interchangeable. *shudder*). 

• And finally, on the health front, I went to the ENT for a general follow-up, and also because I have felt, for quite a while now, as if someone has taken the flat side of a meat mallet to each side of my face - a rhinosinusitis symptom I felt should be addressed.  As I suspected, it's surgery time. If it weren't for the inherent risks of anesthesia, the procedure itself, and the costs of each, I would have sinus surgery the way some people get facials. I always feel SOOO much better afterwards, and it's such a non-event, in-and-out procedure (except when it's not; see recap of "Sinus Kerfuffle of Near Death 2009" for reminder).  

• However, I will be having an MRA - essentially a very long MRI with contrast - prior to the procedure, since my CT scan last week revealed that not only have I failed to regrow any bone at the back of my sphenoid sinus - i.e., my carotid is still completely exposed - but my ENT suspects I might have a slight aneurysm on the vessel as well, and we really need to know rather than merely suspect with regards to such things before he goes poking around in the vicinity with sharp instruments.

•  All the more reason to have these sinus clean-outs early and often in my case, though, because aneurysm or no, it will be infinitely safer to do the procedure while there's still some visibility back in there, rather than crossing one's fingers and hoping not to drill into a major artery.  It'll be another month or two before any of this goes down, but I do feel a bit relieved knowing it's on the books. 

That's pretty much all for now - it's been a super-busy but mostly uneventful month. I DID, however, get the distinct honor and privilege of meeting and recording a podcast with Jerry Cahill for the Boomer Esiason Foundation. We talked about the importance of staying organized with regards to your CF care, and I'm working on templates and pictures of a lot that we talked about to post here as companion tools to the blog. Speaking of, I've got to go get back to my normal, big-girl duties. Laundry, an antsy dog and a growling stomach await me!