Imperfection

I saw Dr. S (ENT surgeon) last week. He officially discharged me as a patient since my nose innards have healed and I have no residual sinus symptoms. Just like Dr. C, he was very pleased with the progress. The last time I saw him was the morning I was going back to work for the first time in two weeks, and I was still pretty bruised and swollen.

The idea of the perfect face has long been defined as one with perfect symmetry. Well, below is proof that I have nothing close to a perfect face, but that I am still swollen on the right side of my face despite what other people try to tell me. It also confirms my suspicion that my left eye is a little too close to my nose than I would like, but there's no going back now. It took a while for me to notice this become of the swelling and bruising, but now I can't help thinking I look cross-eyed occasionally.

I realize my imperfect posture makes one shoulder look massively larger than the other, but get over it.

On an unrelated note, Thanksgiving was nice. Uneventful, but nice. It was my first Thanksgiving with my mom, brother, or anyone on my mom's side since 2006. The food was delicious, my pumpkin pie fudge was a hit, and it was fun playing with my cousin's twin 3-year-olds and catching up with the rest of the family. I was so tired that I went to bed around 8 that night and woke up right around midnight and could not fall back asleep. I almost got up and went to the mall, but then I remembered I hate crowds and the idea of starting Black Friday deals before dawn, so I read until I fell back asleep.

Stupidly, I had scheduled a contact re-fitting at Target Optical at 11:30 on Friday morning. Fortunately, the parking lot was less crowded than I expected and no one was in the optical department. I finally got daily contacts since my two-week contacts weren't even lasting me a week. I guess the dryness and grittiness is a residual effect of the surgery and has a lot to do with the fact that my eyelids don't close at tightly anymore (another reason for the second surgery next year), so my wallet is unhappy but my eyes are thrilled with daily contacts (Acuvue 1-Day Moist, to be exact).

Juls and I had already done plenty of shopping on Wednesday, so Friday we got our nails done and walked around the mall but didn't buy anything. I spent the rest of the day relaxing, baking pretzel bread, and reading. I literally fell into bed at one point, and my elbow landed square on the screen of my Kindle. Needless to say, I no longer have a working Kindle. I wasn't planning on asking for anything big for Christmas (yes, my family still goes bananas with gifts), but I guess I can finally get the white Kindle keyboard I always wanted...? The one I broke was actually my mom's, but she didn't have wireless internet at the time and this Kindle was wifi-only, so I bought a 3G one and we "traded." It lasted a little more than a year, which meant it had a good run but was just out of warranty. I found a company online willing to give me $15 for it. Better than nothing, right?

I will leave you with this amazeballs photo I took of the moon last night. I'm doing the Fat Mum Slim Photo A Day Challenge, and yesterday's was "sky." When I remembered around 9 p.m. that I still hadn't taken a photo, I knew it was too late to try and capture anything decent with my iPhone's camera so I brought my Nikon Coolpix L810 outside on the tripod and used the ridiculous zoom. The second photo is simply exposure- and color-corrected, courtesy of my co-worker. I guess people steal photos (who knew?) so I watermarked them, which is something I've never done before. I'm pretty proud of this photo but even more pleased with the camera itself.

Click to view full size.

Click to view full size.

Karma and Good Samaritans

I planned to be lazy today, but then I remembered that I'm doing a juice fast tomorrow and Monday and had no fresh produce for it. So I threw on some clothes and hit the grocery store...along with every other human within a 10-mile radius. I forgot it's also the Saturday before Thanksgiving, so I was dodged carts full of turkeys, potatoes, and brownie mix. Except I was only in the produce section. I spent $50 on fresh fruits and vegetables, including: carrots, apples, ginger root, lemons, limes, cucumbers, celery, kale, plum tomatoes (yuck), red bell peppers, red onions, parsley, Swiss chard, clementines, sweet potatoes, beets, oranges, grapes, blackberries, spinach, jalapenos, radishes, broccoli, and cabbage.

Worth every calorie.

I also needed to get some ingredients for the pumpkin pie fudge I'm bringing to Thanksgiving dinner, and that's when I spotted the Hostess endcap, reduced to a single shelf. Naturally, I grabbed the last package of cupcakes - something I haven't had in probably six or eight years, and most likely will never have again (even if someone else buys Hostess or their recipes). I watched a girl fill her cart with Drake's products. I almost said something and then I Googled "Drake's" and realized they are owned by Hostess, so it's a good thing I kept my mouth shut.

I got $40 cash back because I was heading to the seamstress to get some pants tailored, and she only takes cash or check. I shoved the two 20s in my pocket and made my way to the car with a cart full of produce and cupcakes, when a guy came running up to me out of breath. "Did you just drop some money?" he asked. And that's when I panicked. I jammed my hands in my pockets and came up empty. "Yes! I had $40!" I said, nearing tears. I always lose stuff but not money. He handed me my money back and said, "It fell out back there." I almost hugged him. I even said, "God bless you," because I had already said, "Thank you," about six times. I just kinda stood there in the middle of the parking lot for a minute, feeling the same way I recall feeling after I watched a pickup truck flip on an icy road one afternoon about six or seven years ago when I was taking the back roads from campus to my shift at Target. I remember pulling over even after he climbed out the back window and plenty of Good Samaritans helped him out and called 911. I wasn't helping, but I was too stunned to drive. That's how I felt today - my money was safely back in my possession but I was too stunned to move for a few moments. Or maybe the phrase "Good Samaritan" was stuck in my head and that's why I thought of that accident.

Finally, I loaded my bags into my car and started toward the cart return area. An older guy was also heading that way, and he put his hand out and said, "I'll take it for you." I was again stunned. People aren't nice like this anymore, especially not in New England. Especially in a crowded parking lot on a busy shopping day. I thanked him profusely and wished him a great day. I got in my car and sat there fighting tears. I had only walked out of the grocery store about 90 seconds earlier, and in those 90 seconds, I came into contact with two men who I thought no longer existed - good old-fashioned polite men. It's not like I was wearing hot pants with my boobs hanging out. I was in jeans, flats, and my North Face with unwashed hair up in a bun and no makeup. They weren't being nice to me to try to get my number. They were just being nice.

What did I do to deserve this? I believe in Karma, but I haven't done anything super nice lately. I bought my co-workers Starbucks cake pops yesterday. I climbed up the shelves in the yogurt section a few days ago to help an elderly lady get the yogurt she wanted but couldn't reach (I couldn't reach either, hence the climbing). But those are things I would do anyway.

All I know is that these two men have good Karma coming their way, and now it's my turn to pay it forward.

Woe is Me

I think I need to rename this blog: Kelly's Medical Woes.

I saw Dr. C (oculofacial surgeon) this morning for my "it's been seven weeks since your surgery" appointment. The upper eyelid stitches (which dissolved) are completely healed and the scars are completely invisible, which is somewhat surprising since I am so fair-skinned and tend to get puffy, pink scars from paper cuts or razor mishaps.

Everything else is as it should be. The feeling on the right side of my face continues to return in the form of that pins & needles feeling when your foot wakes up after having fallen asleep. It's not painful, but it's also not comfortable, and it's pretty constant. He said this could last up to a year. Oh well.

I have very minor double vision when I look as far up as I can without moving my head. Who cares? I don't, and he doesn't either, because who the heck looks all the way up without moving their head? So we're not touching that, and he continued to profess how delighted he was that I didn't have any double vision that affected my eyesight or daily living. He was quite concerned this would happen as a result of removing so much bone and fat.

He wants to wait six months before performing the upper eyelid surgery, which I do need, but he said there is still some swelling that will continue to improve over the next few months. He also doesn't want to perform any surgeries while my thyroid levels are unstable, which they continue to be. I'm just glad they behaved the week of my surgery, for the first and only time in three years. I was really hoping I could have the surgery soon, but I agree it's best to wait until all the swelling is gone and my levels are stable.

My proptosis before surgery was 23mm in the left eye, 25mm in the right eye. Both eyes are now sitting pretty at 19mm. I have no dry, only some dryness, moreso than before surgery. I can no longer wear my two-week contacts for the full two weeks…more like 10 days. I am going to inquire with my optometrist about dailies, at least for the next few months. The surgeon gave me drops but I imagine the dryness is because of the minor upper eyelid retraction.

All in all, he is pleased with his work and even more pleased with my progress and realistic outlook on my situation. He knows I'm eager to be done with surgeries and back to my pre-TED face, but he appreciates that I am educated and informed on how this whole process needs to go.

So since that's settled, I decided to call my primary care physician and focus on my newest medical woe: these tiny little invisible bumps all over my body (except my face) that feel like goosebumps. They appeared about a week ago out of nowhere. It honestly felt like I had forgotten to shave my legs, and I almost got back in the shower to shave them when I was like, "Wait, I DID shave." Now they are everywhere. Mostly my skin feels dry, tight, and occasionally itchy, but then why aren't they red? Clearly my skin is just pissed to be back in the frigid New England weather, even though the rest of my body is jumping for joy because it's no longer sweating in November. So I have to go to the doctor tomorrow morning and find out what's wrong with my poor skin. Google tells me it's keratosis pilaris (which people often refer to as "KP" - my initials), but Google Images tell me it's not, because mine aren't red at all. You can't see them at all, only feel them. Gross? Yep.

I really thought I was dying today. It turns out I was just losing my mind. I kept seeing this clumpy white stuff fall onto my pants and desk. I checked the mirror - no dandruff. My neck has been really itchy from those bumps, so then I panicked thinking every time I scratched my neck, something was coming out of me. I checked the mirror - nothing on my neck except angry red scratches. Finally I took a step back from the mirror (I'm so short that unless I'm right up against it on my tiptoes, I can only see the top of my head) and saw the source: a clump of deodorant on my sweater. I guess I got it on myself this morning while getting ready, and no one at the doctor's office or in my office bothered to point it out, probably because my hair partially covered it. Either way, I am not dying, just a sloppy klutz.

Pup Blood

A few nights ago, I noticed Rags limping and favoring his front left paw. I even saw some blood when I took a closer look. It turned out he had broken his dew claw (the weird thumb-like one) in half, but the broken half was still attached about 50%. He hates having his nails cut and hasn't let anyone cut them in years. He now demands that his groomer uses the Dremel drill/file instead. So I knew this wasn't going to be a fun experience.

With my brother holding down Rags' head, I was able to clip part of the broken nail off. However, he was in so much pain that he was trying to attack the clippers and he was clearly stressed out beyond his max, so I wrapped the paw in paper towels and taped it up since it was bleeding a bit. He was perfectly content to be carried around the rest of the night.

Lots of Raggies blood

Wednesday night, he was in obvious pain still, so I enlisted the help of my dad this time, and cut the nail below the broken part so it would stop dragging and getting stuck on the rug and moving every time he took a step. It bled A LOT. I couldn't find any cornstarch even though I know I bought some, but some flour on the nail stopped the bleeding. He seemed fine and was happy to run around and play, so I didn't worry about it.

I called his vet yesterday to ensure he didn't need an appointment. I was told unless it started to look infected (red or swollen), there was nothing to do until the nail slowly grew back.

Last night, I noticed that the "quick" is now looking fleshy, red, and swollen. And the vet can't fit me in after work tonight, and I can't leave at noon. I would if Rags seemed sick, but he is fine and I am probably just being dramatic. Even if it is infected, he doesn't have a fever (I checked) and he's acting like his usual self, so I got us an appointment for 9:45 tomorrow morning.

Things Can Only Get Better

That's what you say when you're having a bad day, right? "Things can only get better from here."?

I shouldn't say I had a bay day. I'm healthy with a good job and a roof over my head and a family who loves me. However, I had some bad luck yesterday. It really started Wednesday night.

After doing a Jillian Michaels workout dvd and stuffing my face with a healthy dinner of tilapia and steamed vegetables afterward, I jacked the heat up in my room so it would be nice and toasty when I got out of the shower and settled in for the night. Except my heat never kicked on. My dad said there is something wrong with the thermostat, but by that point, it was too late to start pulling out wires or making trips to the hardware store. So I froze. I wore several layers to bed - leggings under sweatpants, a tank top, long-sleeved shirt and a hoodie. I ran my warm mist humidifier on full blast just to get the heat from the steam. And I still woke up several times because I was so cold. I buried Rags under three blankets and eventually he decided he was still too cold and got under the covers with me. I shouldn't be complaining since people along the coast haven't had power for days, but I've also developed Floridian blood after five years of being a resident there, so I haven't reacclimated to the cold yet. Brrr...

Yesterday morning, I started my car using the remote starter like I always do when it's really cold or really hot. However, when I got in 15 minutes later, the radio and lights were the only things that actually turned on. This has happened a few times now. So no big deal, I turned my car on the old-fashioned way and blasted the defroster. I got out so I could clean the snow off my windows. While I'm standing there brushing off the snow, the remote starter decides it's time to lock my doors. With my car running. While I'm standing outside. And my phone and purse are locked in the car. OK, this is manageable. Go back inside and grab the spare key. Except, I locked the house before I left like I always do. Oh wow it's cold. Fortunately I was fully decked out in my heavy tweed coat, boots, gloves, scarf, and hat. I was able to "break in" to the house and get my spare key and get off to work, but it was a scary few minutes.

I get to work, and my office (which is really just a house that was built in the late 1800s) is freezing. I jacked the heat way up, and within a few minutes everyone else's offices are saunas while mine is an icebox. Maintenance came and described a whole bunch of mumbo jumbo, but it took an hour for my office to heat up and even then, it quickly got cold again when we had to turn down the office-wide thermostat because everyone else was sweating. This is the exact opposite from last winter, when I wore tank tops under sweaters and still had to open my window to survive the 110-degree heat the furnace next to my desk pumped out.

During this heat fiasco, I went downstairs to make my oatmeal in the microwave. Except, I was thinking about how cold I was and put about three times too much water into the bowl, thus ruining my oatmeal beyond repair. So I was forced to go to Starbucks (on campus) and get a bagel. Not that I minded the deliciousness of the bagel, but it's not what I'm supposed to be eating for breakfast anymore. I scooped out most of the doughy part and used reduced fat cream cheese, but still felt guilty about it.

When I got home last night, I was chilled to the bone and planned to skip a workout and just get straight into to some warm clothes, have a nice homemade dinner, and get under my covers in my finally warm room. Except the heat still isn't working. I didn't even bother to change out of my work clothes, I just grabbed my keys and decided to go to Panera or somewhere to keep warm and get some food. My brother was walking in as I was walking out, so we ended up going to this Mexican place in Enfield that is just phenomenal. A few tequila shots, a margarita, a nice meal, and some fried ice cream warmed me right up. Well, the ice cream didn't warm me up but the tequila had already taken care of that for the next several hours. In fact, I woke up in what I thought was the middle of the night. Turns out it was actually 11:30 p.m. but I felt like I had been asleep for several hours (really just two-and-a-half). I actually had to remove a layer of clothing in order to go back to sleep comfortably.

Here's to the warm (60+ degree) weather that's supposed to arrive tomorrow and last for a few days, probably just in time for my heat to start working again!

Biking with a Broken Butt

So I'm finally taking this weight loss thing seriously. I've been eating really well lately and exercising every day. Monday night I went to a step aerobics class. I still haven't received the cross trainers I ordered almost two weeks ago because of Hurricane Sandy, so I was forced to wear my running shoes and that sucked, but the class was fun and quite the workout. Last night, I decided to go to my first spin class ever. It wasn't so hard, but I kinda forgot about my broken tailbone. It's only been eight weeks and that's the first time I've been on a bike of any sorts since the injury, and boy did my tush hate me after an hourlong class. During parts of the class/course (you adjust the resistance to pretend you're riding up a hill and whatnot), we'd stand up on the pedals. That was nice relief, but as soon as I sat back down, the pain was unreal. I guess the doctor wasn't kidding when she said this is one of those injuries that can take months or years to heal.

Either way, I felt great afterward. Tired, drained, and sore (probably from both hot yoga on Sunday morning and aerobics Monday) but exhilarated  My plan was to go home, have a small dinner, shower, and settle in to watch the election results. However, I completely forgot about a Junior League conference call, so I did that while eating, and by the time we finished, results were already starting to pour in and I could not tear myself away. I would have fallen asleep in my sweaty gym clothes had the house not been -5238 degrees. I forced myself to change into clean, warm, dry clothes but when the election was finally called shortly after 11 p.m., I gave up all intentions of good hygiene. To be honest, I didn't break much of a sweat during spin because I was babying my poor rear, so I wasn't THAT disgusting (yes, I'm trying to convince myself as much as you).

I tried to stay up to watch the Obama's and Mitt's speeches, but I woke up some time in the middle of the night (morning) and turned off the TV. I watched Scott Brown's (I always want to call him Rick Scott for some reason) concession speech, which was incredibly classy and respectful toward Elizabeth Warren, whose speech was a little too scripted for me but at least it was a victory speech.

We are expecting the first snowflakes of the season today. It won't amount to much here but if it's going to be this cold, it might as well snow! Figures that it's going to be back up to 60 this weekend. I'm finally over my cold, thanks in part to two bottles of Maximum Strength Mucinex® Fast-Max™ Cold, Flu & Sore Throat Liquid, a clean diet, lots of water, and exercise. The last part is debatable. I can't decide if one should "sweat it out" or "wait it out" but when the latter didn't work, I decided to give the former a chance. Maybe I was already starting to recover, but I have to believe that getting exercise when we're only a little bit sick is a good way to tell our bodies to stop whining.

Bad Non-Thyroid

I have the most unruly, nonexistant thyroid ever. I had labs drawn last week, and my endocrinologist's office called on Tuesday to tell me I need to start a lower dose of Synthroid (synthetic thyroid hormone replacement) because my levels show that I am hypERthyroid again. Wtf?!

Let's review this timeline again:
July 2009 - symptoms begin, Kelly is convinced she has a tapeworm based on eating buttloads of food yet losing weight by the day. She poops in a jar and doctor says she's fine. She enjoys this random weight loss.
February 2010 - Kelly ends up in ER after a resting heart rate of 150+ for more than 24 hours. Diagnosed with Graves' disease, and finds out it's one of the most severe cases her physician has ever seen.
February 2011 - Kelly swallows a radioactive pill that will eventually kill her thyroid.
August 2011 - Pill finally works. Kelly becomes hypOthyroid the same week her eyes bug out of her head.
August 2011-August 2012 - Kelly and her endocrinologists struggle to find the correct dose of Synthroid. First she becomes hypER and endocrinologist continues to lower dose every six weeks. After a three-month hiatus from doctor's appointments and bloodwork, Kelly finds out she is hypO again and needs a higher dose.
August 2012 - For the first time in a long time (3+ years), Kelly has achieved euthyroid - meaning her thyroid levels are normal.
October 2012 - Just kidding.

I literally refilled my $20 prescription two weeks ago. I am supposed to be using my insurance company's mail order pharmacy, but I can't. The minimum order is 90 days, but I haven't been on the same dose for more than two months yet, so my doctor won't write a script for 90 days (which I agree with). However, instead of paying $20 for 90 days' worth through the mail order pharmacy, I have to go to CVS every month and pay $20 for 30 days' worth. I'm basically refusing to rush to CVS and get the new prescription for a lower dose until I run out of the higher dose in two weeks. I can't throw away money like that. It's not like I'm going to die, and I don't feel hypER (trust me, I know my body after three years of this).

I used to hate my thyroid and yell at it all the time. Now I don't have a thyroid to yell at! I killed the mofo and yet its ghost won't leave me alone.