Well, life is still merrily kicking my arse. Hawk hurt his back again last night, and lost some sensation, so we had to go to the ER to get a CAT scan to make sure that there wasn't any damage to his spinal cord. There wasn't, thank goodness, but it only reinforced the imperative that we get the tumor removed ASAP. We have the pre-op scheduled on the 31st, and the surgery is on the 8th of next month. Hawk and I are terrified.
In other news, the beading is going well. I took some beads with me to the ER last night, and since we were there for almost eight hours, got almost a bracelet done. I updated my shop day before yesterday, but all the bracelets sold before I could post them here! Still, I have some lovely hair clips left. :)
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Friday, January 18, 2013
In The Saddle
Well, I'm working on getting my Etsy shop's inventory built up before our big move. We are only moving across town, but as luck would have it, the only day we can move is ALSO the ONLY day that the doctor and his surgical team can meet to do the pre-surgery checklist. Augh. My life.
Anyway, I'm hard at work. My workspace currently looks like this:
Anyway, I'm hard at work. My workspace currently looks like this:
But in the new house, I'll get a whole room for my studio and office. Yay! I have a billionty other things I have to do as well, its overwhelming. For right now, however, I'm going to focus on having a cup of tea, and doing a bit of beading, and take control of an itty bitty corner of the world while Hawk is asleep.
See you soon! *waves*
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
BACK!
OMG GUYS I"M BAAACK
Whew. Its been two years, hasn't it? I apologize about that. It's been a hell of a year, with Little Hawk getting really, really really sick, me having a mental breakdown and dealing with depression, us moving, and now moving again, and a lot of shit. Let me catch you up.
After I last posted, I had to quit school to take care of Little Hawk, who is known as Husbandface to my Ravelry friends. *waves* His Post Concussive Disorder never actually got better. It got so, so much worse.
It got so bad that we moved to Olympia, in order to be closer to his doctors. The doc we got, ended up managing to control the spasms, (thank you, whichever deity cares) but the mental stuff got worse. Now, he has Amnestic episodes. He will just randomly shut off, and be, mentally, in another time period in his life. Sometimes he is a child, or even a baby. Sometimes he's a few years ago. Sometimes he knows me, sometimes he thinks I'm his mom, and sometimes, he doesn't know me, and he thinks I've kidnapped him. That can be dangerous.
While this was going on, I was working full time, graveyard shift. Which meant he was alone at night, and, as I was sleeping during the day, also kind of alone. And bad things would happen. He would suddenly not recognize our house and go rolling off into the street, or have a panic attack, (which would trigger a spasm attack) or decide he was dreaming, and go to extreme lengths to wake himself up, like trying to cut off a finger with scissors or something. Awesome, I know.
So we went through a series of part-time caregivers, who would come in for a few hours to keep an eye on him so I wouldn't have to sleep on a folded blanket in front of the door. They were..less than stellar. There was the guy who wore so much Axe that it set off Hawk's asthma, and called in sick three days out of four. There was the girl who would nap on the couch and text. There was the older man, who was very nice, but always reeked of cigarette smoke, which I am severely allergic to, and he let Hawk run off in a panic while he was folding laundry with headphones on. Finally, we appealed to Manbear, who has not only had lots of experience with caregiving, but has a para-education degree AND a psych degree, AND is one of Hawk's oldest and dearest friend. Perfect. He has been a LIFESAVER.
In the meantime, Hawk has had lots more trouble with falling, in one case nearly fracturing his hip and ending up in the hospital for 30 days. During that time, I had to quit working, partially because I needed to spend more time with Hawk, and partially because my employer was being a dick about me spending more time with Hawk. This bird doesn't lie down and let employers walk over her.
I got another, awesomer job, and we sort of stayed in stasis, with Hawk not getting better or worse, Manbear, his awesome wife Foxy, and our other friend Bean, tried to hold down the fort at home, since I was working twelves. BECAUSE I'M CRAZY.
I know what you guys are thinking. First a year of working full time and going to school full time, then a year of working part time, taking care of Hawk, and going to school full time, then a year and a half of working full time and taking care of Hawk full time (with help). Youre thinking, "This bird is CRAZY. She's going to have a mental breakdown. The only question is WHEN."
And you're absolutely right. I started struggling with depression this summer, started seeing a therapist in November, and despite that, had a complete breakdown, complete with suicide attempt, in early December. It sucked. Don't try to kill yourself, guys. People take away your knitting and won't let you make your own sandwiches.
Anyway, I got better medicated, and started feeling better, and then Hawk had a bad fall, and two weeks later ended up BACK in the hospital with pneumonia (Glorious. Just what we needed for Christmas) They had said Hawk needed to see a neurosurgeon after the fall, because they had seen something weird on his MRI, (lovely) and so we trekked off to Harborview, two weeks ago.
And holy shit. He has a TUMOR. In his SPINE.
It's a bone tumor that is pressing against his spinal cord, just a hair from cutting it completely. They have to operate right away. They also have to extend the spinal fusion he already has, which means MAJOR surgery, and at least a year's recovery. Hawk is postponing it until after the Super Bowl, and in the meantime we have to move closer to the hospital, in case he has complications, and I have to quit my job, because there is no way I will be able to work and take care of him. I'd been thinking about quitting anyway, because I had come to the realization that I can't work and take care of Hawk at the same time. Because I'll have a mental breakdown. And that's not good.
So what I'm saying, if I'm saying anything at all, is that I MISSED YOU. And my life is INSANE. And I am quitting my job to take care of my husband, and plan to turn my beading and stuff into a full time business.
Whew. Its been two years, hasn't it? I apologize about that. It's been a hell of a year, with Little Hawk getting really, really really sick, me having a mental breakdown and dealing with depression, us moving, and now moving again, and a lot of shit. Let me catch you up.
After I last posted, I had to quit school to take care of Little Hawk, who is known as Husbandface to my Ravelry friends. *waves* His Post Concussive Disorder never actually got better. It got so, so much worse.
It got so bad that we moved to Olympia, in order to be closer to his doctors. The doc we got, ended up managing to control the spasms, (thank you, whichever deity cares) but the mental stuff got worse. Now, he has Amnestic episodes. He will just randomly shut off, and be, mentally, in another time period in his life. Sometimes he is a child, or even a baby. Sometimes he's a few years ago. Sometimes he knows me, sometimes he thinks I'm his mom, and sometimes, he doesn't know me, and he thinks I've kidnapped him. That can be dangerous.
While this was going on, I was working full time, graveyard shift. Which meant he was alone at night, and, as I was sleeping during the day, also kind of alone. And bad things would happen. He would suddenly not recognize our house and go rolling off into the street, or have a panic attack, (which would trigger a spasm attack) or decide he was dreaming, and go to extreme lengths to wake himself up, like trying to cut off a finger with scissors or something. Awesome, I know.
So we went through a series of part-time caregivers, who would come in for a few hours to keep an eye on him so I wouldn't have to sleep on a folded blanket in front of the door. They were..less than stellar. There was the guy who wore so much Axe that it set off Hawk's asthma, and called in sick three days out of four. There was the girl who would nap on the couch and text. There was the older man, who was very nice, but always reeked of cigarette smoke, which I am severely allergic to, and he let Hawk run off in a panic while he was folding laundry with headphones on. Finally, we appealed to Manbear, who has not only had lots of experience with caregiving, but has a para-education degree AND a psych degree, AND is one of Hawk's oldest and dearest friend. Perfect. He has been a LIFESAVER.
In the meantime, Hawk has had lots more trouble with falling, in one case nearly fracturing his hip and ending up in the hospital for 30 days. During that time, I had to quit working, partially because I needed to spend more time with Hawk, and partially because my employer was being a dick about me spending more time with Hawk. This bird doesn't lie down and let employers walk over her.
I got another, awesomer job, and we sort of stayed in stasis, with Hawk not getting better or worse, Manbear, his awesome wife Foxy, and our other friend Bean, tried to hold down the fort at home, since I was working twelves. BECAUSE I'M CRAZY.
I know what you guys are thinking. First a year of working full time and going to school full time, then a year of working part time, taking care of Hawk, and going to school full time, then a year and a half of working full time and taking care of Hawk full time (with help). Youre thinking, "This bird is CRAZY. She's going to have a mental breakdown. The only question is WHEN."
And you're absolutely right. I started struggling with depression this summer, started seeing a therapist in November, and despite that, had a complete breakdown, complete with suicide attempt, in early December. It sucked. Don't try to kill yourself, guys. People take away your knitting and won't let you make your own sandwiches.
Anyway, I got better medicated, and started feeling better, and then Hawk had a bad fall, and two weeks later ended up BACK in the hospital with pneumonia (Glorious. Just what we needed for Christmas) They had said Hawk needed to see a neurosurgeon after the fall, because they had seen something weird on his MRI, (lovely) and so we trekked off to Harborview, two weeks ago.
And holy shit. He has a TUMOR. In his SPINE.
It's a bone tumor that is pressing against his spinal cord, just a hair from cutting it completely. They have to operate right away. They also have to extend the spinal fusion he already has, which means MAJOR surgery, and at least a year's recovery. Hawk is postponing it until after the Super Bowl, and in the meantime we have to move closer to the hospital, in case he has complications, and I have to quit my job, because there is no way I will be able to work and take care of him. I'd been thinking about quitting anyway, because I had come to the realization that I can't work and take care of Hawk at the same time. Because I'll have a mental breakdown. And that's not good.
So what I'm saying, if I'm saying anything at all, is that I MISSED YOU. And my life is INSANE. And I am quitting my job to take care of my husband, and plan to turn my beading and stuff into a full time business.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
Jammy Goodness
I went shopping with my best friend yesterday, and somewhere between looking at work gloves for her stepfather and picking out spray paint for my fake-y shake-y wood end table, we decided to have a strawberry jam cook-off, my pectin brand vs hers. I'm using Sure-Jell and my grandmother' secret family recipe. (which, when I asked my grandmother what it was, turned out to be the recipe on the Sure-Jell box. Hmm.)
I fully expect both batches to be delicious. I finished mine last night in an hour, and now have 11 half-pints of cooled jam on my counter. The only awkward part was the water bath, because I made a little too much for the eight-jar recipe and my biggest pot only holds eight jars.
I fully expect both batches to be delicious. I finished mine last night in an hour, and now have 11 half-pints of cooled jam on my counter. The only awkward part was the water bath, because I made a little too much for the eight-jar recipe and my biggest pot only holds eight jars.
Monday, August 1, 2011
SOCK SUMMIT BABY YEAH!
I managed to make it to one day of this year's Sock summit , and it was absolutely amazing.
The plan was this. Little Hawk would drop me off at the Portland Convention Center, I would spend the day squishing yarn and meeting my online friends, that evening I would go to a party and meet local members of a Ravelry group I am a part of, then he would come grab me and we would go home the next morning.
Well, the best laid plans and all that....Little Hawk wasn't up to driving, so I dropped him off at his brother's, (heretoafter to be called the House Of Irish) and borrowed his brother's GPS to help prevent me from having a panic attack and ensuing aneurysm.
I still got lost, which is remarkable considering that it was freeway all the way and only a half hour from House of Irish to the convention center. I only really had trouble when I exited the freeway, less than a block from the convention center, and kept panicking and turning left instead of right. The poor GPS kept saying..."recalculating route, please make a U turn," with increasing levels of irritation.
I did make it eventually, made sure to park in an ALL DAY lot, then slogged two blocks in the hot, hot, hot sun to the convention center....to discover I had left my wallet in the car. Back I go, and then the money I had been saving in my Paypal account just for this hadn't transferred yet. So I call Little Hawk and he transferred some money over for me.
Remember, I was on a VERY tight budget. I had promised to buy some stash yarn from a friend there, OhCamels, and we were supposed to do the hand-off that day. I had her 40 dollars, and fifteen of my own to spend. I had more, but I had to husband it against parking fees and dinner with my friends. When I finally met up with her, (after wandering the marketplace and being reduced to near tears by the wondrous sights,) we had a bit of a misunderstanding. She said that she hadn't brought the yarn to her booth, and I could pay her later. I thought she hadn't brought it AT ALL and that I could now spend $55 instead of $15.
Somehow she convinced me to buy three skeins of AMAZING sock yarn for a mystery shawl knit-along that our group is doing. I'm not sure how that happened, but I'm still petting the yarn and cooing over it. Beware, all of you. Abstract Fiber is not only amazingly soft and beautiful, but everyone who works there is a highly skilled Yarn Enabler. You will buy ALL THE THINGS.
Afterwards, she draped me in one of her loveliest shawls and sent me off to wander with some more awesome ladies, Kellbelle and Mykind. There was much yarn squishing, and I was introduced to the concept of "pet" yarn. This is yarn that one will never knit, perhaps because it is in a color that doesn't flatter you, or because knitting mohair is something you abhor, but yarn that you must own anyway. Yarn as a pet. I am behind this idea 100%.
When the promised $40 yarn showed up that evening, though, I had some 'splaining to do. Luckily OhCamels is awesome and nonjudgmental about my skills of comprehension.
I met so many of the wonderful people I know online. I squeaked and flailed at the poor Yarn Harlot until she relented and signed my sketchbook. OhCamels was beautiful and vibrant and somehow talked me into buying half the yarn at her stall. AdamAntonym was charming and dapper and delectably handsome. Didisaurus showed up to the meet-up of my Ravelry group in a dinosaur costume, and Gonzopants, after being kidnapped by pirates, brought one of them to the party with her. He was very charming and a good sport about being flirted with and groped by a group of tipsy knitters. The party, though, didn't really get started until wheniripyouopen showed up with AN ENTIRE SUITCASE OF WOLLMEISE and started selling it, right there in the bar. AND I WAS OUT OF MONEY.
My only regret, besides not having any money, was forgetting my camera. I had to beg a friend to snap me and our weasel mascot with her iphone and email me the picture. Here you are.
In other news, Miss Manners chides an irked lady for thinking that knitting at a recital means you aren't paying attention.
The plan was this. Little Hawk would drop me off at the Portland Convention Center, I would spend the day squishing yarn and meeting my online friends, that evening I would go to a party and meet local members of a Ravelry group I am a part of, then he would come grab me and we would go home the next morning.
Well, the best laid plans and all that....Little Hawk wasn't up to driving, so I dropped him off at his brother's, (heretoafter to be called the House Of Irish) and borrowed his brother's GPS to help prevent me from having a panic attack and ensuing aneurysm.
I still got lost, which is remarkable considering that it was freeway all the way and only a half hour from House of Irish to the convention center. I only really had trouble when I exited the freeway, less than a block from the convention center, and kept panicking and turning left instead of right. The poor GPS kept saying..."recalculating route, please make a U turn," with increasing levels of irritation.
I did make it eventually, made sure to park in an ALL DAY lot, then slogged two blocks in the hot, hot, hot sun to the convention center....to discover I had left my wallet in the car. Back I go, and then the money I had been saving in my Paypal account just for this hadn't transferred yet. So I call Little Hawk and he transferred some money over for me.
Remember, I was on a VERY tight budget. I had promised to buy some stash yarn from a friend there, OhCamels, and we were supposed to do the hand-off that day. I had her 40 dollars, and fifteen of my own to spend. I had more, but I had to husband it against parking fees and dinner with my friends. When I finally met up with her, (after wandering the marketplace and being reduced to near tears by the wondrous sights,) we had a bit of a misunderstanding. She said that she hadn't brought the yarn to her booth, and I could pay her later. I thought she hadn't brought it AT ALL and that I could now spend $55 instead of $15.
Somehow she convinced me to buy three skeins of AMAZING sock yarn for a mystery shawl knit-along that our group is doing. I'm not sure how that happened, but I'm still petting the yarn and cooing over it. Beware, all of you. Abstract Fiber is not only amazingly soft and beautiful, but everyone who works there is a highly skilled Yarn Enabler. You will buy ALL THE THINGS.
Afterwards, she draped me in one of her loveliest shawls and sent me off to wander with some more awesome ladies, Kellbelle and Mykind. There was much yarn squishing, and I was introduced to the concept of "pet" yarn. This is yarn that one will never knit, perhaps because it is in a color that doesn't flatter you, or because knitting mohair is something you abhor, but yarn that you must own anyway. Yarn as a pet. I am behind this idea 100%.
When the promised $40 yarn showed up that evening, though, I had some 'splaining to do. Luckily OhCamels is awesome and nonjudgmental about my skills of comprehension.
I met so many of the wonderful people I know online. I squeaked and flailed at the poor Yarn Harlot until she relented and signed my sketchbook. OhCamels was beautiful and vibrant and somehow talked me into buying half the yarn at her stall. AdamAntonym was charming and dapper and delectably handsome. Didisaurus showed up to the meet-up of my Ravelry group in a dinosaur costume, and Gonzopants, after being kidnapped by pirates, brought one of them to the party with her. He was very charming and a good sport about being flirted with and groped by a group of tipsy knitters. The party, though, didn't really get started until wheniripyouopen showed up with AN ENTIRE SUITCASE OF WOLLMEISE and started selling it, right there in the bar. AND I WAS OUT OF MONEY.
My only regret, besides not having any money, was forgetting my camera. I had to beg a friend to snap me and our weasel mascot with her iphone and email me the picture. Here you are.
Please to enjoy my hickey and double chin. *sigh*
In other news, Miss Manners chides an irked lady for thinking that knitting at a recital means you aren't paying attention.
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