Laundry Quandary

For the record, my one resolution to write more this year isn't working out too well so far. Of course, I don't need to point that out.

Some families stockpile bottled water and canned food. Some stockpile diapers. Some stockpile junked cars in the yard. We stockpile SOCKS.

I only wish that I was kidding.

Our sock situation has gotten completely out of control due to a number of different factors. First, the evil washer and dryer still are not working as they should. I can't wash more than 1/3 to 1/4 of a load at a time, or the washer goes out of balance. Sometimes, it goes out of balance anyway just to keep me on my toes. So, I have been doing laundry on a "desperate need" basis for the last month or so.

Second, H has never learned how to use this washer and dryer. Yes, he is a very intelligent man with a law degree. Yes, using the washer only requires pushing a few buttons. But, I have spoiled him and have always done the laundry since we've been together. He has never really done the laundry anyway. During that year or so that he was in the apartment with J, I would make it a point to go up once a month and do all of the laundry for him. Invariably, it was horrifying and would result in at least 3 kleenex going through the wash.

Third, H's mom is OBSESSED with socks. I don't use the word obsessed lightly, either. I have more cute socks than I will ever be able to wear. I have socks that will never match anything in my closet. I have socks for every holiday. This past Christmas, she sent to me two pairs of Halloween socks that she bought in 2008 and forgot to send to me. When P was here for Thanksgiving, she took H shopping and bought him AT LEAST 30 pairs of socks. As I have been doing deep cleaning in the closets and around the house, I keep finding the damn things everywhere. Of course, the great majority of them are single pairs with unique patterns so when one is lost, the other has to be garbage.

Never mind the fact that as I've been doing a squillion loads of catch-up laundry, I haven't been taking the time to match all of the socks. I have a pile on the dresser of at least 100 socks. I am not kidding. And, I'm not done with all of the laundry yet.

What I don't understand is why certain clothing companies, particularly an upscale brand that I'll just call "BB, " insists on over-packaging their socks. I found a pile of BB sock packaging on the floor in the closet. More under the bed. Some squirreled away in various drawers in the closet. Some in shopping bags. The packaging mainly consists of belly bands and plastic hangers, but in some cases there are PINS and STITCHES and even TISSUE PAPER. Why, for the love of God, would one need to put tissue paper in a SOCK? At this moment, I have a garbage bag in our bedroom that contains mainly used kleenex, used dryer sheets, and SOCK PACKAGING.

Once the Superbowl is over, my next project will be to go through our dressers and purge all of the old socks and underwear. H won't like it, but he'll survive. Otherwise, I'm going to have to figure out how to cook socks for dinner.

New Year Resolutions

Not going to do it. I always do it and I always fail and then I feel terrible about it.

But, I am going to write more. Really.

Aaaaaaack!

Good thing: homemade salsa from Z.

Horrible thing: SPICY HOT homemade salsa from Z.

"Disappointed" doesn't even scratch the surface.

'Roid Rage

Even though I'm tapering down now, and never did take more than 20 mg/day of prednisone, my face is square again and I have lost my chin.

Prednisone is truly a nightmare.

Subversive Thought of the Day

I find absolutely nothing funny about Garry Shandling, Jerry Seinfeld, or Larry David. I think they're all abominably rude.

Five for Friday

It's been a long time, but I have much to be thankful for.

Things that make me happy:

1. Bourbon.
   
2. Cold, wet cat noses.
3. Crunchy toffee.
4. Cooler weather.
   
5. Getting out the Fall decorations.
   

I am not allowing anything to make me unhappy at this moment. I've had enough of that in the last 24 hours.

On Illness

I have been living with Crohn's Disease since 1995. Most of the time it is just an annoyance. This summer, however, I have been under siege. I've been sicker than I have been in the last 10 years, and I'm just now starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Chronic illness is an interesting thing. It's easy to be obsessed with it, and spend all of your time and energy meditating on the ways that your body is betraying you. Or, you can stick your head in the sand and just deal with the day-to-day annoyances (which is my specialty).

One of the ways that I have stuck my head in the sand for all this time is to think that I don't REALLY have Crohn's. Perhaps I just have IBS. Or, perhaps I just eat the wrong things. Or, I'm just lazy and fat and that's why I'm always exhausted and in pain. Plus, I don't fit the profile of the normal Crohn's patient: in other words, rail-thin. I can have a terrible, 3-month flare like I am now and barely lose any weight at all. And, that's even with not eating much.

It is finally beginning to sink into my thick skull that I am Not Well.

I had an appointment with a Colo-Rectal surgeon yesterday. It went well, all things considered, and I am going to have at least one Seton drain installed on 11/2. I say "at least one" because it turns out that I have two fistulas right next to each other. I thought that it was just one big one. Double the fun! And, I am most likely going to give Remicade another shot to see if we can keep the fistulas from coming back in other places. Being hooked up to an IV for 3 hours every 8 weeks isn't something that I can ignore, nor can I ignore the unfortunate placement of two drains.

These last months have been a nightmare. I started feeling lousy in July, and chalked it up to the heat and stress. August and September were almost completely lost to me. All I did was go to work (and poorly, might I add) and sleep. I simply couldn't function. No laundry, no cooking, no cleaning, no reading, nothing. H has been an angel and has taken excellent care of me even when I was incredibly difficult. He has been more stymied by this than I have, because while he has the same disease, it manifests itself completely differently in both of us. He has watched over me and loved me and held us together when I couldn't.

I need to count my blessings every day that we have great insurance. I also need to be grateful that we have access to some of the best medical care in the country and these intelligent, devoted people are working hard to help me function. H and I joke often that if we had been born early in the 20th century we would probably both be dead by now. Sad, but true.

So, if you are ever in need, go to Vanderbilt and get the team of Dr. Christopher Lind, Dr. Roberta Muldoon, and Dr. Nanette Dendy on your side. They will listen to you and respect you and do everything that they can to fix you. And, they will fix me. God willing.

And, as one last thought on this, Every American deserves the same level of care that we receive. H and I are incredibly lucky in that he works for the State and the insurance is some of the best in the country. But, we would be in extraordinarily bad shape, or homeless, if we didn't have the insurance. My heart breaks for anyone that has to even think about how they will pay for medical care. End of political rant.