The Toolbox

When we moved here last year, we left behind the lifetime of tools we had accumulated. There isn't enough space to store them all here and with the exception of some duct tape, a wrench, one or two screwdrivers and a hammer, the toolbox junk drawer is primarily empty. A lot of my kitchen tools are still packed away, too. Although the kitchen is large enough, the appliances aren't trustworthy. After one or two forays into baking, I gave up trying. That oven is a real disappointment that I plan to remedy in about a month. The toolbox will be retrieved from Rachel's house, too, and we'll finally be reunited with those things we couldn't live in a home without. In the meantime, we're essentially living here tool-less.

Lately, as my saga with acute anxiety continues, I've been noticing another type of toolbox that's missing something: my bag of tricks I use for putting up with life's curveballs is fairly empty. I keep reaching inside to find a hidden coping mechanism I was sure I had safely tucked away and come up empty handed. I did get some rest this weekend, and even slept through my spinning circle on Saturday. Who says we can't find salvation (or a long, sedated sleep) with a little xanax chemistry?

Hoping to find an end to my current predicament, I had my first appointment with a therapist today and the toolbox is just as empty as when I first got there. I thought for certain that at least my bullshit barometer was working, but it would appear that's broken, too. After about an hour of talking, the therapist told me his schedule is full to overflowing and he would have to refer me to someone else. What? What was the point of this appointment? Sheesh. That's two meetings I've had that had the same sort of outcome in one week. To top it all off, his office was in a not so great area of town, down a flight of steps and into a deserted basement space where the door to enter his office suite was locked. Damn. Not exactly the best spot to send me in my paranoid state of mind, was it?

The entire appointment was an hour of completely useless mental gymnastics.

But I'm not giving up. Tomorrow, I'll call the number this guy gave me and I'll pursue a decent therapist. The xanax is handy, but 1/4 of the prescribed dose knocks me out for 8 hours straight, so I can't use it during the times I feel the most anxiety, like (hello?), when I'm awake. Apparently, when it comes to benzos, I'm a cheap date. Instead, I've been using my other drug.

Yarn, to be exact.

I'm knitting as fast as I can. My goal is to make it a full day without feeling my heart race once. It's getting better.

In the photo: 25% of a poncho I'm knitting for the three of us, including me, myself and I. The pattern, Erika, from Rowan Classic Winter Solstice, is knit in Rowan Alpaca Cotton. The pattern is fast, and the fiber is soft and warm. Who cares that the yarn is so dark it's hard to see the cables? I know I don't.

Rethinking My Ravelympics Lineup

It's not like I don't have a half dozen projects needing completion already, or indeed, it's not as though I haven't thought up my Ravelympics stragedy already, but I've been led astray.

Again.

For a cause.

For a really good cause.

I had planned on my only new project for the next three weeks as being the Deep in the Forest mittens. And I was planning on entering my Pretty as a Peacock shawl in the Wipdancing event. But now, I may just focus on Romi's Brandywine Shawl. I bought the pattern this morning and I have enough fingering weight yarn laying around the house to cast on for this shawl without making a trip to the yarn store. Romi is charging $6.50 for her pattern and donating $5 of that to Doctors Without Borders. That's almost 80% of her profit going to benefit an excellent organization that is surely stretched to its limits these days. As of her blog post this morning, she has sold this pattern 137 times (make that 138) and has already cut a check to DWB for $500.

If you aren't on Ravelry (I can't imagine why you aren't if you knit, spin, crochet or weave), you can link and purchase the pattern here.

Thanks, Romi. You're patterns and your generosity are amazing.

Who Dat?

I'll be the first to admit that the only reason I watch the Superbowl is for the advertising. With the exception of Doritos and Audi, ads were kind of lame this year. I loved the Green Police ad and I don't think Doritos had a single bad ad. They were all funny.

I never root for any team, but this year, I cheered on the Saints. Not because they're from New Orleans, and Lord knows, that town can always use some good news.

Nope. I cheered them on because of this canine fan.

He's adorable.

Did you have a favorite ad?

That Interview

I had the interview yesterday and was told a determination would be made next week. I got the rejection this morning. At the end of the interview yesterday, the department manager told me that she doesn't like to hire field workers into office jobs because we're miserable when we get there. For God's sake, she should have told me that on the phone when we scheduled and I wouldn't have wasted the time, gas, dry cleaning bill and the angst.

Yes, my angst was wasted on that stupid interview. We all know that angst is a terrible thing to waste.

It's OK.

I'll figure it out.

In the meantime, I've been to see the doctor (can you believe that through all this, my blood pressure is still only 110/70?) and on Monday, I'm going to have my head examined. My brother, a therapist, made me promise to find someone smarter than me. I'm glad to know he thinks so highly of me, but I kind of feel that shouldn't be too hard these days. I can't be all that bright to keep putting up with bullshit.

The rejection? Turns out it doesn't feel so bad. In fact, it pissed me off and that's an emotion I've missed these past couple of weeks.

To make myself feel better, I went out and bought more yarn. Prism. Scrumptious.

Forest, Trees and Blindness

Today is the day for the big interview and I'm a little worried. I'm not concerned about not getting the position. Indeed, I'm a little fearful that I will. Since last week, I've been praying for clarity, and yesterday, I got it in the form of a phone call from a colleague I confided in the day before.

Since I'm living with this overwhelming fear in my gut, my feelings are never far from the surface. On Tuesday, we met at a patient start of care and I confided in her that I was thinking of leaving the clinical end of our business and my reasons for thinking this way. We discussed all of the incidents that have occurred to me at night and the solitary nature of my position. You see, the day shift staff all have one another and weekly team meetings. They have routine opportunities to debrief and discuss events as they occur. They also have more opportunities to team up for visits. I ordinarily work alone. I have an evening shift counterpart, but she lacks empathy. Completely. I know, it seems odd that a nurse would have no ability to place herself in another's shoes, but that's her in a nutshell. In addition, she's got much safer territory to cover than me, so maybe she just doesn't get it.

On Wednesday morning, my coworker from Tuesday called me back to discuss both the patient we'd seen and our more private discussion. What she had to say kind of threw me for a loop, and now I have the clarity I prayed for. My colleague believes I'm experiencing a threat induced post traumatic stress disorder stemming from my near assault in Detroit in December. She told me what she thought and is encouraging me to get some help for this. She also told me that if I fail to get help and I don't work through this, that no matter what job I do, these feelings of despair, anxiety and their physical manifestations will follow me around and even if I chose to work outside of nursing, something will happen to trigger this problem. Essentially, the damage is done and now I must work to do the repair.

I think she's right. As soon as the words left her mouth, my understanding was instant. Living it, I couldn't see what she plainly could, but there you have it. I'm not sleeping well. I can't fall asleep for hours and I can't stay asleep once I'm there. I'm having nightmares, although I can't recall their details when awake. I have intermittent pains in my chest and the feeling that a sharp edged rock is residing deep in my gut. I'm irritable (see above--not sleeping), angry and when it's time to clock into work for the day, I'm nauseated. I don't leave the house unless it's Saturday morning and time to spin, or I have to because it's time to work. I've turned into a little recluse and I've been using the weather as an excuse. I haven't even seen my best friend since before Christmas and that's not normal, nor is it me. That episode last Monday? I mean talk about a hyper-vigilant state of mind...I was in that frame of mind even before the yelling started. My physical response was to run and I don't think reason ever stood a chance. To top it all off, I recognize that I've really personalized that home care nurse's death and this can't be good for my psyche.

Lately, I'm just tearful. I love what I do and the thought of working at a desk job with no patient interaction is counter to who and what I am. I'm a nurturer and a caregiver. I've been one since I was a wee little girl. Nursing came naturally to me and this potential job change just doesn't feel right. I am uniquely qualified to perform the tasks I currently do.

Still...I'm going to the interview. I'm also going to see the doctor.

In the meantime, I'm going to have a good cry over the way I feel and try to let some of these damaging thoughts and feelings go.

High Five

I've been tagged by Catherine to select 5 highlights of 2009. I don't ordinarily do memes. I don't know why. I get started and then led astray, but I told Catherine I'd give this one a shot. If you haven't been by Catherine's site, you should go visit. It's where I go when I want to see what's going on in Ireland and in Catherine's very interesting life.

Last year was monumental in terms of change, so this shouldn't be too difficult. Not all change is good though and sometimes, it's hard to select high points when upon reflection, all I can see at the surface are the lows. In that case, it's an excellent idea to scratch below the surface.

1. How could the number one high point in last year be anything but the success we achieved in turning our own home into an assisted living arrangement for our daughter and 3 other young women? We've had a few bumps along the way, but all in all, it's been wonderful for everyone including Rachel, us, the women who moved in with Rachel and their families. It was nothing short of a life changing event for all involved. This was the most important thing we've ever done to assure that our youngest child would have a secure and home-like living arrangement for the rest of her life. For months before and after, I had a hard time sleeping and my anxiety levels were always bubbling at the surface, but somehow, we've made it through this transitional period and everyone involved seems very content. If I ever question myself, I've only to make a nursing home visit to a patient to see what happens to impaired children of parents who failed to plan. There are plenty of mentally impaired young adults residing in places like that. I did the right thing even though that never seems to be the easy path.

2. If it weren't for number one, I'd never have learned to spin yarn. Learning this survival art has been a goal for many years, and frankly, I wouldn't have had the freedom, nor the time before we made those changes last year. I've made wonderful new friends by joining a spinning circle that I seldom miss. I live for Saturday mornings now and the community I've found with like minded women. Being able to make my own yarn has turned out to be nice, but the circle I belong to is the best thing about Saturday mornings.

3. Maybe, just maybe, I had one stellar personal achievement last year, and that was winning the blue ribbon for my Michigan State Fair entry of The Cap Shawl. Yep. That was incredibly satisfying. It was bitter sweet, for last year's fair turned out to be the fair's last year. With the economy in Michigan crumbling, there is no way to keep an event like this afloat. If things turn around economically, perhaps the fair will return. One can hope.

4. In September, I went to Virginia with my brothers. Over that long weekend, we drove to the place of my grandmother's birth and had a lot of fun poking around in our family history. I have to say, that was pretty enjoyable. While there, I took my first (ever) knitting class with Jane Slicer Smith. Awesome.

5. In a when one door closes, another opens kind of way, I've made a new friend in my neighbor's cat, Mr. Mocha Latte. While it's not this Siamese cat's real name, it's what I call him. He greeted me the first day we moved in by peering into my front door and waiting patiently for me to invite him in. He's visited often ever since our first meeting, and oddly, it's always at a time when I seem to be intensely missing my dog, Duke. This cat is no accident in my life and while sure, I admit I feed him treats here and there, what he seems to like best is to nap in my bed. He came by just a couple of days ago. It was bitterly cold outside when I got up early and after 5 minutes of being up, I decided to go back to bed to get warm. As I was passing the front door, the cat was there meowing to come inside. He was freezing, too. We both went to bed and slept a few more hours with him nestled in the crook of my knee. I'm going to miss that cat when we move.

There you have it. My life, lemons and lemonade.

Since this is a meme and the number five is involved, I am going to tag five people to play along. Sometimes, we humans tend to linger on the negative, I think it can be a challenge to think about good things that have happened. This was an excellent exercise for me in singling out the good and reflecting on things that, while maybe not so great on the surface, really did have positive outcomes. Thus, I throw down the High Five gauntlet to the following bloggers:

1. Rose at Sand in My Yarn (This is a new home for Rose which proves that the lemon/lemonade thing works. She ditched her old site and made a new one that has the best name even though these days, it's not sand, but snow in her yarn).
2. Brenda at Days of My Life
3. Lisa at A Really Simple Life
4. Gail at At the Farm
5. Betty at Life is Good

Thanks Catherine. I really enjoyed playing along.

Duplicate Day

Whenever I find my husband particularly annoying for a long stretch, I like to mutter and mumble that I'm suffering from a duplicate day. In fact, I like to drop that line in a rather conversational way. "Oh what's the matter? Are we going to have a duplicate day?" While speaking, I make sure the sarcasm is thick. I know for a fact that this chaps his behind, and so I usually keep it up for awhile. It's my way of telling him that his snarkiness is getting on my last nerve. I do consider annoying him right back to be my civic and marital duty.

With my brain pretty well cooked from laying awake and making wedding plans all night, I'm going to give you a duplicate day. No snark though...just a rerun from last year's Groundhog Day, which when you think of it, is fairly fitting. While we've not had any snow to speak of and almost none worth shoveling, it's been bitterly cold. I'm sick to death of layering wool and long for some nice balmy days.

So gather up those stinkin', hairy, lying, long nailed, rodent-like prognosticators and start writing out your grocery list. It's dinner time.

Bon Appetit!

Searching for something good to do with groundhogs, I found this recipe on a Michigan outdoor website -they apparently got it from Herb. My commentary is in red to represent what I'll be seeing if that groundhog delivers the wrong result, because frankly, I don't think I can bear another 6 weeks of winter.

Waco Groundhog in Sour Cream

Recipe By: "Indian Cookin", compiled by Herb Walker, 1977

1 Groundhog, skinned & cleaned (who can I pay to do this deed?)
1/2 cup vinegar
1 tablespoon salt
2 quarts water
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 cup flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/2 cup bacon fat (apparently the fat in the groundhog is not enough)
3 small wild onions (currently buried under a foot of snow--well that was last year, not this year)
1/2 cup water
1 cup sour cream

Skin and clean the groundhog ( this may be my first problem). Wash and dry and put in an earthen crock (why do I have to dry it when it's going into liquid?). Cover with water and a half cup of vinegar and 1 T. of salt. Let stand in a cool place overnight (don't worry, nothing bad could come of this, right?).

In the morning, remove from brine, wash and pat dry with a damp cloth (again with patting dry then immersing in water). In a large soup kettle combine 2 qt. of water and 2 T. of soda. Bring to a boil, lower the heat and simmer meat for 15 minutes, removing the scum (mmmm, scum) as it rises to the surface. Drain and rinse the groundhog meat and cut into serving pieces.

Combine the flour, salt and allspice and dredge the pieces of meat in the mixture. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Melt the bacon fat in a heavy iron frying pan until smoking (nice combo of smoking hot and bacon fat- I'll keep a lid nearby in case I start a kitchen fire). Brown meat on all sides. Transfer the browned meat into a greased 4 qt. casserole. Arrange sliced onions on top, add water, cover and bake in a preheated oven for 2 hours or until the meat is tender (must be tough if I have to brine, boil, fry, and then braise).

Transfer the meat to a heated platter to keep warm. Put the casserole on top of the stove over medium heat and spoon in the sour cream stirring constantly (this is needed either because the groundhog and bacon don't add enough fat, or the flavor is dreadful and I must mask it-I'm just not sure). Do not let the sauce come to a boil. Put the meat back into the casserole and simmer for about 15 minutes. Delicious served with creamed dandelion leaves (now where will I find dandelions on February 2nd in Michigan?).

On second thought, maybe I should make reservations for dinner. After looking at this guy's freaky little fingers, I've come to the conclusion that this recipe has too much fat...