Ah-Cha-Cha!
The Darker The Berry, The Sweeter The Juice

Let's Not Do Anything Rash

100_6571 I got another Bloggy Giveaway prize in the mail! This bracelet, though, is not exactly what I thought it was going to be: A thick, beaded bracelet on stretchy elastic. Instead, it's on wire, with three coils. I'm donating it to Chloë for the time being. I like it, but obviously not enough to, uh, bother taking a halfway decent picture...

Also in the mail: Our  Mediterranean cruise tickets!!! In a fancy, non-plasticky envelope. If I could do cartwheels right now, I'd have done a hundred. We're going, we're really going!!!! In just over six weeks!

100_6573Rob looking all cute and athletic after his Dodgeball games yesterday. Note that he now has as many crow's feet wrinkles as tattoos. Hehe, my boy is getting old (and I like it)!

Last night I couldn't sleep, so I puttered around and wound the natural, undyed (white) wool that I bought at MD Sheep & Wool into a useable (and humongo)center-pull cake. I figured on crocheting a blanket for the red sweater set today with it.

Well, add that to the long list of things to which I am highly allergic. I woke up this morning with severe, painfully itchy rash, one which even massive dosages of Benadryl couldn't combat. Wanna see? Sure you don't.

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Very attractive, no? Especially on such chubbiness. Now picture that over every square inch of my body, sparing only (thank heavens) my face. I took my Bennies. I sprayed my Kenalog spray. I scratched myself violently from head to toe - violating the corner of the wall in an illegal manner in 23 states. It was of no use. The rash wouldn't go away, and it hurt like hell, and I was fecking miserable. I canceled Sophie's and my plans to visit the ladies at the Knitting Corner (a LYS), dashing off an apologetic email before retreating to my corner of shame. I was disappointed, but I just did not want to go out in such a state. It's ugly and embarrassing, and really, do they need to watch me digging my nails into my ass? I didn't think so.

100_6578 When it looked like the reaction wouldn't abate, I threw caution to the wind and decided to crochet the hell out of that blanket anyway.  While we watched morning shows, I made it in more or less one three-hour sitting. I didn't notice it before, but you can see the natural variations in the "white" portion, which adds interest for me.

100_6579 One more complete set, (almost) ready for donation!

So that was complete, and  yeah, using that wool for that long didn't help the allergy at all, in case you were wondering. Worse than ever. Mommy in a great mood. Not. (Tomorrow's my follow-up appointment for the allergy test, and I don't think I've ever been more excited for a non-prenatal doctor visit in my life!)

I decided it was finally dive into my ever-growing stash of FOs (finished objects) - both mine and donated - to see how many packages I could make. First I sort out the items by category:

100_6581 Sweaters/gowns and hats/bonnets

100_6582 Booties and blankets

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Some of those hats are a sight bigger than preemie-size...

And then I match them up to make a complete set, with one item from each pile. I try to do it so the gown, booties and hat coordinate well, and then pick a matching but contrasting blankie so the baby will stand out in pictures.

100_6584_2 Imagine my surprise in finding about three dozen complete packages that required absolutely no additions at all! That rarely happens; I'm usually labeling each of them with a sticky note telling what needs to be made to finish the set. Love it.

Soon, after I finish the two - just two! - packages that need additional items, I will donate these to the hospital via my therapist's ladies group. She's on some board there, and her group gets credit hours for the packages, which earns them money, which they then turn around and donate back to the hospital. Don't ask me to explain that again, because I find it all very confusing. I'm just happy if the packages get where they need to go, and judging from yesterday's post, they do!

After dinner and the kids' bedtime, I headed to the grocery store (with a single tote bag, for once) for a few necessities that couldn't wait until the weekend. It wasn't a good trip for me, because shortly after I started pushing an empty cart around the store, my back seized up and made it very difficult for me to keep moving.

[I have nerve damage from the spinal I received for my last c-section, which causes my lower back to cramp up and feel like all the vertebrae are fused together, immobilizing me, and gives me incredible spasms that climb up my spine and go around my neck. It's extremely painful.]

As I made my way around the store, slowly but surely, I was shuddering at the idea of getting back on the treadmill once at home. Dr. Mann, the bariatric surgeon, seems to think I should just be out there exercising my fool head off! I have tried low- and no-impact exercises that "should not" affect my back - swimming and walking, namely - but I don't think Mann understands the nature and extent of the pain in which I find myself. Simply put, it's debilitating. This frustrates me to no end. Do I want to be in this condition? Of course not! Do I want my physical function to be limited? Hell no!

At the hospital for my hysterectomy, when talking to the anesthesiologists, I cried when they talked about giving me a spinal. In the end, I refused to do it, having multiple anesth. docs come try to talk me into it. Instead, I decided to go with a solution that involved the risk of me feeling the entire surgery. I didn't, thankfully, but I would rather go through that than injure my back worse than it is.

All this to say, screw you, Dr. Mann! Meanwhile, I still haven't called to get a referral for a civilian surgeon. Perhaps tomorrow.

Perhaps tomorrow. Story of my life.

Fin.

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