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In Stitches

​​As most of my friends an family know, I’ve been a die hard crocheter from when I was 6 years old.. My home health nurse taught me the basics during the nights when I wouldn’t couldn’t really fall asleep. 

From middle school to most of college I only crocheted a little, like a baby gift or a wedding present for a friend.
My docter recently suggested I should crochet very frequently to help my hand circulation, so I’ve been making baby hats and small blankets for a NICU in Illinois. Since I grew up in hospitals and spent the first year of my life in a NICU, I see donating my homemade blankets and such as giving back to the NICU nurses who kept my body function, even when it kept refusing to do it.
I have been compiling a list of NICUs in the United States to donate to, but if you have one that has meant something to you or your family, drop me a message on the project’s Facebook page

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Nerve pain sucks.

As I mentioned a few days ago, I had to go through tests because they thought I had a tumor on my heart’s left ventricle… it turns out that it’s just an abundance of scar tissue in there.

 While I’m still waiting the final word before I throw an “I’m good!” party, I’ve been told that the official confirmation will happen this week.
So why am I awake until of sleeping? Two words: nerve pain. During one of their 12 tries to get an IV, they hit a nerve in my neck. And it sucked. 

My body would love a break. Anytime, universe, anytime. 

Medical tests · Uncategorized

Fear and All That Comes With It

Yesterday (Thursday, 2/9) I had a cardiac MRI. They had to get an IV in me, which is a pain in the ass because my veins SUCK. It took twelve tries, four people and close to four hours to get a line in. Three of those tries were in my neck, the last try there being the one that finally worked. 

Then there was the whole MRI itself, which hurt like hell because of my fused vertebrae. Laying on a hard metal plate for an hour and a half was agonizing. 

Today my neck hurts. My back hurts. I’m sore, I’m tired, but overall, I’m okay. You know why?

Because they ruled out cancer. 

“Remember how my cardiac scan was shown to a doctor’s conference? They found something on the scan that confuses them. It is most likely something that is there because I have really unique anatomy, but we are still being cautious and doing further testing tomorrow. All prayers and good vibes are much appreciated.”

That’s what I posted on Facebook on Wednesday. A handful of people knew details, and I kept it that way. Scaring people isn’t really something I enjoy doing if I can help it. My two step fathers and one stepmother all died of cancer, so I tried not to say that word if I could. One of my closest friends has a brother in remission from cancer, so she filled in the blanks for me so I didn’t have to say it. 

I knew for an entire week that there was an issue with the scan results. A week where I didn’t sleep, barely ate and tried not to scare myself further by googling it. I talked to two of my doctors at length, discussing probabilities and other complications it could be. 

Preliminary results say it’s scar tissue growing out of one of my heart sutures that’s been in place since 1987. While I’m not completely cleared until the radiologist makes his final diagnosis, I’m breathing better. I slept last night. I ate three meals today (okay, I had ice cream for breakfast, but in my defense it was about to expire). I hung out with amazing friends tonight. 

I’m okay. 

Thank. God. 

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The new immigration laws scare the hell out of me.

So most people know this, but I’ll say it here – I’m married to an immigrant. He was born and raised in Copenhagen, got a Danish education (paid by the local government) and he got his green card in the summer of 2013.

16388312_10101282995743521_2167721138409678328_nHe was a substitute teacher and a teacher’s aide in Missouri for about two years, and then we pulled up roots and settled in to our lives in Texas. I write fun stuff for a living and he works in tech at Apple. It’s a good life. A comfortable life.

Then the immigration bans started happening. Yes, they are currently due to “anti-Muslim” culture, and people often tell me not to worry about it when it comes to my husband… He’s a white guy with a great job and was born in a very non-confrontational place. All sounds good, right?

It’s good for now. But in a year, he may not have his green card anymore. If he flies back to Denmark for a family emergency, he might not be able to come home to me – he could be stopped at the security line and held back from boarding the plane. Then what do we do?

I know that people think I’m being ridiculous. Danes won’t be involved in this immigration kerfuffle, they’re too happy of a country to have any immigration issues, right?

That’s right… But just for now. What could happen in the next week? The next month? The next year? I’m really scared. I never admit I’m scared, but I will now.

 

 

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… and in the beginning. 

My story is both unique and not unique. I was born with a rare collection of birth defects, which are under the medical umbrella known as “VACTERL”. They’re a great group of people – some of my best friends have it. We call each other at 2 am when we’re sick and need to talk to someone who “gets it”, we commiserate about crappy doctors and idiotic insurance issues, and we just get each other in a way not many others can. 

Three years ago, a doctor asked if we had a club or something. I think it’s less of a club, it’s more like a family. (And I’m not just saying that because I married a VACTERL guy.)