One of the Big Reliefs of Parenting: The Stage of Kids Making Their Own Plans

You know how there are certain stages of parenting that, when you get to them, it is such a pleasant relief, and it’s the kind of pleasant relief that just lasts and lasts, sometimes for YEARS of appreciation? Like, when everyone can wipe themselves in the bathroom: I STILL think of that sometimes with happy appreciation, even though it’s been years and YEARS. Or when everyone can buckle themselves in: it’s SO NICE to just get MYSELF into the car, and I STILL notice it. Or when you can say, “Hey, go take a shower, okay?” and the child just GOES AND TAKES A SHOWER, 100% all on their own, and returns a little while later in fresh clothes with combed and almost-clean wet hair??? Or when you can say, “Dad and I are going out for dinner, so you guys should make your own dinners tonight.” !!!!!! It is amazing, it’s all amazing.

(Which. I mean. Doesn’t this lead the rational person to conclude that it would be even more amazing to NEVER HAVE CHILDREN, so you NEVER have to do ANY of those things that are such a relief to be able to stop doing??)

I would like to add another one to that list of lovely reliefs, and it is the stage when kids are old enough to make their own plans without ME having to communicate with the other kids’ parents. My poor children did not have very many playdates when they were younger, because I can BARELY STAND to communicate with other parents about plans. But now I only have one kid left where I still need to discuss things with someone else’s parents; everyone else is at the stage where my child says to me, “Is it okay if I go to Ella’s house Saturday afternoon?,” and I say “Will a parent be there?,” and they say “Yes,” and I say “Sure.” Or I’ll get a text: “Can Aidan walk home with me after school?” and I’ll text back “Sure, if it’s okay with his parents.” AND THAT’S ALL I HAVE TO DO! I only have to communicate with my OWN CHILDREN, and sometimes I can do it by text!

Book: The Future of Another Timeline

One of the many things I do at my new library job is put the plastic protective covers on new books. I like to read the book flaps as I’m covering, and that’s how I found this book:

(image from Amazon.com)

The Future of Another Timeline, by Annalee Newitz.

Assuming our own future turns out reasonable, which I do not assume, I think it won’t be long before this book is part of a college literature class on books written as a result of the 2016 election and all the accompanying madness. I felt similarly when reading The Power, by Naomi Alderman. Fiction gives us an interesting way to look back at what the issues of the time were, and the fears, and the hopes, and the revenge fantasies.

This is a time-travel book. One group of travelers, The Daughters of Harriet, is attempting to prevent an outcome in the future of their own timeline, where women don’t have the right to vote and are powerless non-citizens used only for breeding and service. Another group of travelers, called Comstockers, are working on preserving that future and also breaking the time-travel devices so that their edits to history can never be undone. It’s a suspenseful race.

I found the sections about the time-travel machines and how they worked to be dull, but I know there are other people who love that stuff. I skimmed those sections, and skipped to the more riveting flashbacks of the story of teenagers Lizzy, Heather, Soonjin, and Beth, and their connection to our current-time grown-woman protagonist Tess.

The underlying message of the book is that no one person can change history; only vast group efforts can change our timeline. It’s not subtle, and it’s invigorating. To use the cliche, it’s a parable for our times. Also, there are some similarly invigorating revenge scenes where terrible men get what’s coming to them.

I’m adding this book to my list of Gift Ideas for Pissed-Off Progressive Women.

Flu Shot Time

This information this post is based on is several years old, more than several, but I was thinking about it today. When Edward was newly diagnosed with Crohn’s disease and was about to start on immune-system-suppressing medication, he had some bloodwork done, and also a TB test. I don’t remember why things happened in the order that they happened, but the upshot is that one of the things the bloodwork showed us was that Edward’s chicken pox vaccines had NOT been effective—but we found that out AFTER he was on the immunosuppressing medication, so it was too late to get the vaccinations redone. So he’s just not immune to chicken pox, despite being vaccinated on the recommended schedule.

I was AWARE, statistically-speaking, that a certain percentage of vaccinations don’t take. But somehow I didn’t expect MY PERSONAL CHILD to be affected. He had BOTH doses of the chicken pox vaccine, and right on schedule! How can they just…NOT HAVE WORKED? And why couldn’t it have been, say, Elizabeth, or Henry, or Rob, or William, who got the vaccinations and they didn’t work? Why EDWARD, who is now on immunosuppressants and CAN’T get any live vaccines and also now ABSOLUTELY CAN’T be exposed to chicken pox, on top of everything else he has to deal with? If Elizabeth (or Henry, or Rob, or William) got chicken pox, it would likely be similar to when I got it as a child: irritating and itchy and fully survivable. If EDWARD gets it, he has to go immediately for medical treatment, and he’s likely to end up hospitalized while it plays out, and that’s the HAPPY outcome.

Luckily for us, and for Edward, MOST kids in our area get the chicken pox vaccine, despite chicken pox not being a big deal for most people. So even though it would be very dangerous if he were exposed to a case of chicken pox, that’s not likely to happen. I don’t know the last time I even HEARD of anyone around here having chicken pox. I still worry about it, of course I worry about it—but what a treat, what a relief, that it’s not something I need to worry about MUCH. People who would probably not be in danger from chicken pox are nevertheless getting the chicken pox vaccine, so the population at large is less likely overall to have chicken pox, and so the population at large is less likely to expose Edward in particular to chicken pox.

It is not a good feeling, to go through life having something dearly treasured and so completely irreplaceable be so vulnerable to common dangers. My other kids will probably go to therapy later and complain that I loved Edward best because I was so fretful and protective, and I DON’T love Edward more than I love them, but I do worry about Edward more. He is no more treasured, and no more irreplaceable—but he is so additionally vulnerable to common danger.

I got the flu once when the twins were toddlers. The nurse who gave me the flu shot that year bragged about how quickly and painlessly she gave shots—and, as she pulled the needle out of my arm (so fast! so painless!), I saw the little arc of fluid, presumably my flu shot, vaccinating the air. I remember how sick and how exhausted I was. I would put the twins into their high chairs and then collapse into the recliner to close my eyes for 30 seconds. I would put some dry cereal onto their trays, and then weep a little while lying with my cheek on the cool kitchen floor. It went on for weeks. I was so tired. It lasted so long.

But I was in my thirties, and healthy and well-nourished, and not compromised in any way other than being the already-exhausted mother of toddler twins. I could be ill for awhile, and weep a little and collapse a little and lose a few pounds, and then recover.

Edward is not in that situation. He can’t just be ill and then rest and then recover. When he got a sinus infection, he ended up in the hospital twice, surgery twice, antibiotics for seven weeks. Things that are no big deal for other people are a big deal for him. This is true too of preemies, and of babies in general, and of elderly people, and of people already ill with something else, and of people whose flu shots didn’t work, and of lots of other people in lots of other circumstances.

I think of this every year when I get my flu shot. I have Edward to think of, but also my nephew, who is particularly susceptible to respiratory things, and my mother, who is also particularly susceptible to respiratory things. Of course I don’t want to get the flu again: I HATED having the flu! But it’s not about ME, because I can get the flu normally, and recover normally; it’s about Edward, and about my nephew, and my mother, and about making sure I don’t get the flu so I don’t pass it on to them. And in a broader sense, it’s so I don’t pass it on to any of the many, many other people I might not personally/individually care about in the same way, and yet of course I don’t want to hand an elderly woman a library book and have her die of my flu germs or whatever.

The trouble is that all of us are so IRREPLACEABLE. We can’t SPARE us. And so I would go so far as to say that all of us who are ABLE to do things to protect the more vulnerable among us have an actual ETHICAL DUTY to do so: a small thing for each of us to do, but something that collectively makes a HUGE difference in the protective barriers around others—like how I don’t have to worry so much about Edward getting exposed to chicken pox, the way I would have had to a generation ago. Even Paul, who hates needles and is the babiest of all babies about shots (“That STUNG so much more than LAST year!,” he complained TWICE when we got our flu shots today), gets his flu shot, to protect Edward and to protect our nephew and to protect everyone else’s Edwards/nephews/grandmothers/babies/irreplaceables.

Mrs. Grossman’s Sticker Club

I’m not going to tell you how to spend your own personal money, but I HAVE A SUGGESTION FOR SPENDING YOUR OWN PERSONAL MONEY. One recent evening, after let’s say ONE extra vodka-and-Ginger-Lime-diet-Coke, I joined the Mrs. Grossman’s Sticker Club. My October subscription packet arrived today:

assorted sheets of stickers

It has been awhile since I’ve been so pleased with a purchase. I’d thought I might regret it when I saw the stickers, since of course there would be ones I would not have chosen for myself, but instead I am DELIGHTED with the ones I would not have chosen for myself. It reminds me a little of long ago when I ordered a whole bunch of return address labels, and the company accidentally sent me a set with dogs on them. I don’t have a dog, I didn’t have any reason to order labels with dogs, but it was surprisingly refreshing to use something so outside my usual style. (The company re-sent the right ones and let me keep the wrong ones for free.)

I feel like I am not telling this story in the right order. To START with, I should have said what I was doing on the Mrs. Grossman’s site at all. Generally I have to STOP myself from buying stickers, because I buy them at a faster rate than I can use them. HOWEVER: with the fundraiser, I have quite a few greeting cards to send. And what is my FAVORITE use for stickers, but PUTTING THEM ON ENVELOPES. So I have been going through my stickers at an invigorating rate, and I went on the Mrs. Grossman’s site with that in mind—NOT planning to place an order per se, but just in the mood to window-shop for stickers on a Friday night with a vodka-and-diet-Coke, as we party people like to do.

That is when I noticed…The Sticker Club.

Obviously I was not going to JOIN. No. A grown woman like me. No. I was just going to maybe look at some of the past month’s selections for the fun of it. I sipped a little more of my drink. I went to look at the sale stickers and put some in my cart. I looked at the holiday stickers. I went back and looked at the sticker club some more.

I have mentioned before that Paul and I each have a monthly allowance to be used for things that the other person would not want to spend money on. Like, he can save his up to spend a ton of money on a workshop tool I’d consider too expensive for the minimal usage he’ll get out of it. Or I can use mine for an order of See’s chocolates. Or whatever. But my allowance tends to build up, because I don’t generally have big things to spend mine on, so I have what we could call a little STASH, and it makes Paul envious and so he is always urging me to spend it. Which is what he was doing as I sipped my drink.

I continued to browse stickers just in general. I wasn’t going to have enough for free shipping—except WAIT: the discontinued BEE STICKERS are back in stock!!! And for less than I paid for them in the store!! Okay. Okay okay okay. Now I started adding things to the cart in earnest: sale twinkle heart stickers, sale exotic bird stickers, sale horse stickers, sale ornament stickers; limited edition heart stickers, cute little sparkle heart stickers, small sparkly rainbow stickers, flamingos-and-rainbows stickers hecc yes, and so on.

It was in the midst of this adrenaline frenzy that Elizabeth wandered in, and I showed her the sticker club, and she was enthusiastic and saying “Girl. GIRL” as she does when enthusiastic, and almost before I knew it I had decided to subscribe, and then I DID subscribe.

I wondered if I’d have regrets the next morning. It is classic for things to seem like a very good idea in the evening with the drink, and much less of a good idea the next morning with the coffee. BUT NO. I woke up the next day, turned off the alarm, began the usual mental start-up (“Edward’s antibiotic, it’s Saturday, I don’t have to work, my hair needs washing, I need to have the child gather up the trash…”) and almost immediately REMEMBERED THE STICKER CLUB and felt HUGE JOY AND ANTICIPATION.

Each day since then I have thought of it and been happy, but have wondered if the arrival of the stickers themselves would change my mind. And NO! I am still happy! I will put the photo here a second time, so you don’t have to keep scrolling to admire it:

assorted sheets of stickers

(I did not put these in the exact order I want to discuss them, but I will go ROUGHLY left-to-right and top-to-bottom.) It came with a sheet of flower stickers and a sheet of animal stickers in fall colors but not autumn-only; then three sheets of distinctly Halloween/skeleton/pumpkin stickers, which is IDEAL because I have a Halloween card to send! Then, thrillingly, there was a little gold envelope containing what the letter explained was one of three possible ARCHIVED stickers found in the sticker vault. THE STICKER VAULT!! I got a jack-o-lantern. Then a Mrs. Grossman’s postcard to send to a friend; it has a discount code on it.

Next row! A sheet of deluxe metallic-rimmed unicorn/candy/rainbow/heart/bow stickers, which I have seen in the store and admired but didn’t want to spend the extra money for, so that was very pleasing to get. Some metallic-edged grapes, which are exactly the kind of thing I would not have chosen but am delighted to receive and find a reason to use. Some Yosemite park stickers and some inspirational-quote stickers, which I will enjoy putting into someone’s fundraiser care package. The letter that came along with the stickers says that the grapes and the Yosemite stickers are “designs you just can’t find these days.” Last in that row is the envelope the subscription came in, which was so cheerful to see in the mailbox.

Last row! Allllllll shimmery/sparkly, alllll Limited Edition, and I love/want all of them except maybe the bears. Yes, I think the bears will go into someone’s care package.

Anyway. I’m so pleased. Also, this checks off one person on my Christmas-shopping list: I am going to get a several-month subscription for my niece who likes stickers. (I ordered her a few packs of stickers, too, so I’ll have something to wrap and put under the tree.) Notice that there is some sort of countdown on the sticker club page for how long you have to sign up before it’s too late to be included in the next month’s packet. It makes it sound as if it’s a countdown for when it’s too late to subscribe AT ALL, but no: just to get in on the next month. Considering my October subscription arrived on September 30th, that’s a good thing to know if signing up: one wouldn’t want the stickers arriving too EARLY.

How To Gradually and Continuously Get Rid of Ads on Facebook

It used to be easy and obvious to figure out how to block advertisers on Facebook, so then Facebook changed it. Here is how you do it now:

In the upper righthand corner of the ad, there are three dots; click the three dots and choose “Why am I seeing this ad?” from the pull-down menu that appears. As if you care / don’t know.

(screenshot from Facebook.com)

 

This will bring you to a little screen that says “It’s because you are a cash cow for us and we make our money by selling your eyespace to advertisers!” In the upper righthand corner of that justification, click on Options, then click on “Hide all ads from this advertiser.”

(screenshot from Facebook.com)

 

Do this one hundred billion times, until you have blocked all possible advertisers on the planet Earth. This is a lifelong task. Just keep doing it, knowing you are working for good.

On my own Facebook page, and I don’t know if this is the same on yours, I’ve noticed that I get a whole bunch of new ads, and I block them all and it feels like there are a million of them, and then suddenly all is quiet and there are no ads to block. Time goes by. I forget about ads. Then, one day: ADS EVERY THIRD POST AGAIN. I get back to work, systematically blocking them all. It feels like there are a million of them and I never be done. Then, quiet and no ads. And so on.

My tireless energy and fervor for blocking individual advertisers, despite the endless cyclical futility, reminds me of my childhood best friend’s elderly neighbor, who could be seen in the dawn hours hacking with righteous vigor at individual dandelions, not only in his own yard but all over the neighborhood. The futility of the task did not defeat him. The battle was its own justification, and its own reward.

Favorite Keto Treats and Desserts

When I was first doing keto (my most recent update here), I didn’t mess around much with sugar substitutes. I was nervous about it: some people said certain artificial sweeteners didn’t count as grams of carbohydrates even if grams were listed on the package, and other people said yes they DID count and/or that some counted as grams even though ZERO grams were listed on the package, and a lot of people rolled their eyes and said “Just see how it affects your blood sugar!!” as if that is something the standard person can Just See. Also, there are big debates about whether eating sugar substitutes makes it harder to adjust to not eating sugar, and/or whether your body might “think” you’re eating sugar, and so on. It seemed too difficult and confusing, so I avoided it.

Now that I’m more accustomed to keto in general, and now that I’m maintaining instead of trying to lose weight, I mess around a LOT with things containing sugar substitutes. Here are my favorites:

 

(image from RebelCreamery.com)

1. Rebel Butter Pecan ice cream. Hands down the absolute best keto treat I have tried. I am waiting to find out it’s a scam or mislabeled or something. Five grams of net carbohydrates in the entire pint; that’s about the same as in two tablespoons of peanut butter. Of the first three ingredients, one is cream and another is pecans, and that is how it tastes. It’s so good. And butter pecan is not normally a flavor I’d reach for, so it’s a little mystifying.

 

(image from RebelCreamery.com)

2. Rebel Strawberry ice cream. Honestly how do they do it. I don’t know if I would be so amazed by it if I hadn’t gotten so accustomed to “treats” such as raw pecans/almonds (very mildly sweet!), but I DID get used to it, and so now I am a-swoon. The strawberry ice cream has perceptible strawberry matter in it, distributed very finely so you get a little bit in every bite.

There are a ton of other flavors; our store went from carrying two flavors to carrying four to carrying eight, so I think it must be selling well, and I’m hoping to try all the flavors eventually. I like the chocolate and vanilla flavors just fine, though I tend to eat them only when we’re out of butter pecan and strawberry. I thought the mint chocolate chip tasted bitter and not very minty, but that didn’t stop me from finishing it. The cookie dough flavor was weird and powdery/gritty and didn’t taste like cookie dough; I didn’t finish it. I need to give the peanut butter fudge another try: I attempted it when I was expecting too much of low-carbohydrate desserts. I haven’t tried any of the others yet.

 

(image from BuiltBar.com)

3. Built Bars. I bought the sampler box on my sister-in-law’s vigorous recommendation, and at first I thought they were pretty okay but kind of weird and too expensive, and that they’d been fun to try but that I wouldn’t be reordering; by the time I finished my sample box, I’d ordered two more boxes (free shipping, discount on more than one box, free two-bar sample with each box, free six-bar sample with two-box order) (still pretty expensive, I warn you). A whole bar is five or six grams of net carbohydrates; I generally eat half a bar, because they’re expensive but mostly because I’ve noticed after half a bar I’m not enjoying it as much. I like all of the flavors except banana and coconut: I usually love coconut, but these taste to me the way coconut-scented car air-fresheners smell. And I won’t even try the banana.

The texture is hard to describe, and took some getting used to. The site says “light and fluffy” and that is not AT ALL how I’d describe them. I’d say “chewy” or…I’m not sure. Like an extra-soft Starburst or something? When I saw “whey protein isolate” high on the ingredients list, that made sense to me. It reminds me of the ingredients you can use to thicken a sauce (flour/water, cornstarch, etc.), and if that doesn’t send you running out to buy some, I don’t know what will! But they have grown on me to such an extent that, when recently I realized I was unexpectedly running low on them, I felt a little panicky.

 

(image from Lilys.com)

4. Lily’s Dark Chocolate baking chips. When I’m craving something sweet AND I’m kind of hungry, I mix a few tablespoons of these with pecans or peanuts to stretch out the eating-chocolate experience and make it more filling.

 

(image from Lilys.com)

5. Lily’s chocolate bars. I especially like the Dark Chocolate Almond, but the little crunchy bits of almond make it harder for me to stop eating it, so I usually get the regular dark chocolate. It feels exactly like eating chocolate, except I like it less because I generally like milk chocolate way better than dark, but I don’t like the Lily’s milk chocolate as much as the dark.

 

(image from QuestNutrition.com)

6. Quest bars, but really only the chocolate chip cookie dough flavor. I like a lot of the others just fine (brownie, maple waffle, mint chocolate chunk, white chocolate raspberry), but if I have the chocolate chip cookie dough kind on hand, that is ALWAYS the one I want. It’s dense and grainy in a way I first found disappointing and now enjoy. I most commonly use these as a easy portable meal replacement, like if I’m going to be away from home with Edward all day and don’t want to worry about what I’m going to eat. I’ll bring some cheese sticks, some almonds, and a Quest bar.

I find the Quest Hero bars (chocolate caramel pecan in particular) to be suspiciously good. Like, I keep checking the label to make sure it’s okay. But for some reason I get a slightly averse feeling when I think about eating them, as if my body would prefer I didn’t.

 

(image from QuestNutrition.com)

7. Quest cookies. Similarly to the Built Bars, these satisfy a very particular type of craving. Sometimes I just want a COOKIE. These do not taste particularly great, and they’re very dry and crumbly and a little bitter, but something about the texture makes me feel as if I’ve had a cookie, in a way that no other keto food does. I like all the flavors about the same. I usually eat half a cookie.

 

(image from Jello.com)

8. Sugarless Jell-o. Sometimes you just want to eat an entire bowl of something sweet. I like the lime, raspberry, orange, and lemon flavors the best. I’ve tried whipping heavy cream to put on top, and that’s VERY GOOD; you can add some artificial sweeteners to the cream. But it’s generally more trouble than seems worth it, so usually I just eat the Jell-o on its own.

What It Was Like To Have an Endoscopy

Backstory first, because it has been so long since we last discussed this. (You can skip four paragraphs if you don’t need backstory and just want to hear the endoscopy described.) Very long ago, like three years ago, I started having some trouble with tightness in my throat (it felt like anxiety, but happened even when I was not anxious); also, every two or three weeks I would swallow something and it would feel like it got stuck, and it would be very painful for a few minutes until it finally went down. I wasn’t choking: I could still breathe. But it felt terrible and gross and scary, and it hurt a lot.

And so two and a half years ago, after it had happened enough times that it didn’t seem like it was just a fluke, I went to the doctor, who said it could be reflux, which surprised me very much because I didn’t feel like I was having any kind of heartburn symptoms. She further said that my light persistent cough could ALSO be reflux/heartburn, which I doubted: we have a lot of respiratory/asthma/allergy stuff in the family, so that seemed like a more likely explanation path to pursue than heartburn I wasn’t feeling.

She started me on a daily dose of omeprazole, which almost immediately stopped both the coughing and the problems with swallowing. (It is as if doctors possess a level of expertise and knowledge that I do not possess.) She also sent me for a barium swallow test, which didn’t show any clear reason for the symptoms. So she referred me for an endoscopy; she said to give her a call if they hadn’t contacted me within a couple of weeks. I don’t want to talk much about this, but let’s just say that no endoscopy was scheduled, and I could not GET an endoscopy scheduled, and calls/letters to everyone involved made no difference, and it was inexplicable and baffling, and I finally gave up in despair, and I have no answers for any of your very reasonable questions.

At my recent physical, my doctor said “Hey, did you ever have that endoscopy?” and I was like “???!!!!????!!! THANKS FOR FINALLY TUNING IN” and was literally more like “They didn’t ever…and I called?…but they still didn’t…and then I called here?…but nothing happened…and I sent you a letter?…but nothing ever?…” She said, wait a second, was that like two years ago, and I said yes, and she said things were very bad at that GI’s office then, and also the hospital has added a second GI since then, and let’s try again now…and if they didn’t get in touch within a couple of weeks, just give her a call (????!!!!????!!!!OMG). She said even though the omeprazole was completely handling the symptoms, I was too young for her to say “Yes, just keep taking omeprazole daily for the rest of your life” without doing the endoscopy first. I was like well that’s GREAT, and I join you in this version of reality where I can actually GET an endoscopy.

The GI’s office called the very next morning and set up the endoscopy. So now after four paragraphs, we are finally coming to the topic advertised.

Procedure-wise, it’s in the only-slightly-big-deal category. A half-dozen-page packet arrived after they scheduled the appointment, containing highlighted instructions for “7 days before,” “3 days before,” “the night before,” etc. There were some mild restrictions the week before: no multivitamins with iron, no iron, no fish oil, no vitamin E, that kind of thing. There was a one-sided page of paperwork to fill out: medications, health conditions, drinking/smoking confession.

The hospital called to do pre-registration: name, DOB, address, insurance, employer. I couldn’t have any food after midnight the night before, but I could have liquids (including soda, juice, sports drinks, coffee) up to three hours before the arrival time. I had to bring someone with me to drive me home afterward.

When I arrived at the hospital’s endoscopy department, I checked in and they had me look over a page of information to make sure it was accurate, and they gave me a hospital bracelet. Then a nurse called me in and showed me to one curtained area in a room full of curtained areas; I could easily hear the questions/answers as other nearby patients went through their pre-procedure process. I had to take off shirt and bra and put on a hospital johnny, but I was allowed to keep on my pants/socks and even my shoes.

The nurse asked me some questions, including when I’d last taken medications and when I’d last had anything to eat or drink, and then put in an IV. She told me roughly what would happen during the procedure and how long it would take, and that I would not be conscious so don’t worry about any of the things she was describing. She said to expect a quick visit beforehand from the anesthesiologist and from the doctor who would be doing the procedure. Those two visits came to pass; they seemed more like “Here, you can look at my face first so this doesn’t seem so impersonal” plus asking me twice more when I’d last had anything to eat or drink. This whole part, from the nurse bringing me to the curtained pre-procedure area until I was being wheeled into the procedure room, took approximately one hour; most of it was sitting in a hospital bed and waiting and listening to other patients answer questions. One woman there for a colonoscopy was very funny about it.

The procedure nurse came to wheel me into the procedure room; it was a small room, like the size of a regular doctor’s exam room, not like a big operating room; it was quite crammed full of equipment. I was fairly nervous by this time. They took my vital signs again, confirming nervousness. The nurse anesthesiologist was there, and explained that once the doctor arrived she’d put the sedative (propofol) into my IV. She put those little oxygen prongs into my nostrils, saying “Everyone gets extra oxygen,” and put those little sticky monitoring pads on various parts of my chest. They had me lie on my left side; they put a prop behind me so I couldn’t roll back. The nurse stayed in my field of vision and kept updating me on what was happening and why, which I found reassuring. The doctor arrived; the nurse anesthesiologist started the sedative and said I might feel dizzy at first; she said I should breathe in through my nose. I did feel pleasantly dizzy/buzzed. Out of curiosity, I counted how many seconds I stayed conscious after the dizzy feeling started; I got to 14.

The procedure itself takes less than 10 minutes; it’s the prep/recovery that takes up the time. I had an arrival time of 1:00; I was being wheeled in there shortly after 2:00; and I was in Recovery before 2:30 (I’m not sure exactly when I arrived, but when I asked the time it was 2:30). I woke up hearing someone say “It’s all done!” and my memory is fuzzy but I think I was being wheeled into the little recovery bay at the time. I was sleepy but felt fine; my pillow was drooly, which I didn’t notice until the nurse thoughtfully flipped it over for me. She asked if I wanted Paul called in, and I said not yet. She had me roll back onto my back, and then she raised me into more of a sitting position, and she offered coffee/tea/juice/water/muffins/crackers. I had some coffee, and over the next ten minutes or so I returned to feeling basically normal. This is when they called Paul back to join me. I was in Recovery for about half an hour total; then they had me get dressed, and Paul and I were moved to more of a consultation room, where we waited to have a chat with the doctor who did the endoscopy.

We waited twenty minutes or so, and then the doctor came in very briefly, very friendly but definitely in a hurry, just to give preliminary results. He’s going to wait for the biopsy results to come back, and then send a report to my primary doctor to give a full report and his recommendations. But he says it looks to him as if I should continue to take the daily omeprazole: it’s handling the symptoms completely without having any problematic side effects. He saw some stuff that explains why I’m having difficulties, but it’s nothing that needs to be fixed unless it starts causing me more difficulty than it’s currently causing.

They warned me I might have a sore throat afterward; mine was not sore, but my voice was a little hoarse and I felt like I needed to clear my throat more often for a few hours. My tongue also felt weird for a day or two afterward. Like, you know when you’re sick and your tongue gets too dry while you sleep, and it feels so gross like a dry sponge, and even after you get a drink of water your tongue feels a little weird/wrong for awhile? There was a part of my tongue that felt like the post-rehydration version of that.

The entire thing was less than 2.5 hours from arrival to departure, and if I had to have it done again I’d be a LOT less nervous–and frankly kind of looking forward to the propofol.

Surprising News About Men and How They Pee

Paul was complaining to me about some shorts he found in the bottom of his drawer after he ran of out his usual shorts. He didn’t really like the fit or the length, which was fine, let’s donate them so you never wear them again. But then he said he remembered the REAL reason he had stuffed them way at the bottom of the drawer, which was that the front had to be pulled down for him to pee.

I don’t know how long I stared at him blankly before I managed “…As opposed to WHAT?” It turns out boys, or at least SOME boys, actually USE those little hatches on the fronts of their pants/underwear to pee. I guess I was assuming…well, I don’t know what I was assuming. Because why would the hatches BE there if no one used them? But it seemed like such an unlikely thing: to undo two little hatches, to reach a hand inside and… Well. I don’t know exactly what I thought, but I suppose I was thinking the little hatches were decorative/traditional remnants from another, more primitive time.

Paul was, understandably, more on the “Why would they BE there otherwise?” side of the discussion, but it was taking me awhile to let this new information sink in. I mean, imagine if women’s clothes had similar hatches: little snap-flaps between the legs of all our pants/shorts/underpants. Imagine if we just opened those hatches and then peed through them, because it was TOO MUCH TROUBLE to pull down the pants/underpants.

Considering women do NOT have such snap-flaps, it felt even more absurd to have a man telling a woman that he rejects an entire pair of shorts because those shorts force him to pull them PARTLY down in front in order to pee. Oh, how very difficult! Oh, the inconvenience! Imagine having to PULL DOWN a pair of shorts in order to pee! Who could be asked to live that way?? It is unacceptable!! “…I guess I’m complaining to the wrong person,” said Paul.

New Job

I am so busy. I am so tired. I’d thought I had a fair amount of extra time, but I added a part-time job and now I am run off my feet and stressed and tired all the time, not to mention losing all my Candy Crush streaks.

It is at least a job I like. I am working mornings at the library. I’m a page, which means I re-shelve things and fetch things and collect materials from the book-drops. I don’t know if I will like it long-term (I seem to like jobs for six months and not any longer than that), but we will see. I like being at the library. I like library stuff, and library activities, and library fundraisers. My co-workers are smart, which is nice for an entry-level job. And something about putting things in decimal order does something therapeutic in my brain.

Also, the work is surprisingly physical. I have had to deliberately switch which knee I naturally kneel down on, so that I wouldn’t get one leg so much more exercised than the other. I am the indoor type, so this is an improvement in my usual physical activity levels.

It feels like a financially/mentally/physically good change in many ways, but also I am so busy and tired. And, more importantly, things like “Oh, Edward has to go for another follow-up appointment” are HUGELY stressful, now that I have to continually ask for the time off from work. I started the job two days after we came home from the hospital after his first surgery, so I’ve already had to ask for many, many schedule changes, which makes me feel unreliable and difficult when I KNOW I am NEITHER. It would be so much better if this had happened after, say, two full years of showing up five to ten minutes early, leaving five to ten minutes late, and never missing a shift without giving two weeks’ notice.

And without the recent Edward complication, this job meets all my weird job requirements for this stage of life. It’s part-time. It gives me a pleasing answer to the “And what do you do?” question, which is higher on my list of priorities than you might expect. It’s moderately flexible. It’s nearby. It’s not a “warm body” job: if I have to have a day off every seven weeks for Edward’s Remicade infusion, they don’t have to find a substitute for me as they would if I were a bus driver or a caregiver; on that same note, I won’t be called EVERY SINGLE DAY and asked to cover shifts for other employees, as I was with my last warm-body job. It’s entry-level, but not fast-food or retail or customer service. It’s indoors, and a comfortable temperature. There’s room for learning more skills and adding more hours as time goes on. (It doesn’t pay well, but with a list like that, SOMETHING had to give.)

And I do like the work. The other day, I went home after my shift and had lunch, and then texted my supervisor to ask if she wanted me to come back for a couple of hours, because I’d had to leave a TON of work behind (the long weekend meant a FULL book-drop) and I found I was itching to get back to it. Like, I WANTED to do it. And another day, I was re-shelving some books in the New section, and a patron asked if I’d recommend any of them, which was on one hand WAY too much pressure, and on the other hand I COULD recommend one of them, and then she sat in a chair in the library reading it for like an hour, and then checked it out!! That is close to the level of thrill I used to get at the doughnut shop when someone would let me pick the doughnuts for their dozen.

Things That Have Made Me Sad Since William Left for College

Things that have made me sad since William left for college:

• Mistakenly thinking I heard the washing machine going (it was someone doing dishes) and briefly assuming William must be doing laundry, then realizing William is no longer here and so is not in my way doing his laundry. This should have been a happy thought but WAS NOT.

• Finding in the laundry room a last basket of clean laundry scraps from William doing all the rest of his laundry and then leaving behind the cloth napkins, dishtowels, handkerchiefs, aprons, and other things that were tossed into the empty washing machine and so got mixed in with his things.

• At the grocery store, not needing to buy pasta, pasta sauce, buffalo chicken patties, or frozen burritos. (These are the things William makes himself for Second Dinner.)

• Briefly thinking we should wait until William gets up to see if he wants to go to Target with us.

• Getting a dozen doughnuts (a family tradition after anyone has a medical procedure) and doing the Doughnut Math wrong. (The children don’t understand why this one made me sad instead of happy, since it means more doughnuts for each of us.)

• Going into William’s room to make sure he didn’t forget anything important, and not needing to knock.

• Going into William’s room to look for the cat, and seeing the bed stripped, and the cat sitting on the folded comforter.

• Talking with Paul about something related to Thanksgiving, and saying “the boys” will probably be home for that.

• Putting out only three plates for kid dinner. Getting out only three vitamins.

• Doing all meal math wrong, then correcting it. “Let’s see, toasted cheese, I need 8 slices of bread…no, 6.”

• Doing Child Inventory and briefly thinking William is at work or up in his room, instead of at college.