Recovering!

It has been awhile, but finally I have a truly positive update. My wrist is on the mend!

Finally diagnosed as a level 2 sprain, I was able to begin physiotherapy. While I still have internal swelling, all except one appointment has been about pain management. I'm hoping this week sees more healing therapy. I've been told I am to start using it a moderate amount as I'm now at risk of muscle apathy, and I'm finding it gets very sore and tired very quickly. It's apparently good pain, and not at risk of further being further injury, but it still hurts.

I tend to organize myself by writing things down, often in lists. (I even currently have a list of the different lists I wish to organize, having found all these partial lists laying about. But that's a whole other story...) I also like to write down my thoughts, either electronically or in a journal. Nevermind trying to keep track of all the paperwork, doctor's visits, etc, etc that is related to this injury. Not having been able to do any of this has caused me no small amount of mental discomfort. It's disheartening to still be without full use of my hand.

When at work I see the stacks of low priority work piling up, and I'm just itching to be able to plug in the music and just start plowing through it. (Data entry is so much better with MP3 players!) My absence has caused my share of work to be added to the desks of the my coworkers, and I feel awful for it. So many of my duties are on the current forbidden list, so even my time at work doesn't seem to be enough to really relieve them.

With the warm weather approaching, and my hand slowly getting better, I'm looking forward to so many things. Getting some spring cleaning done, getting my balcony ready for some summer time relaxing, and cooking up meals. I can't wait, though I have to.

And now, to go ice my wrist again. This post has found me at the end of my limit, and that's despite taking breaks... Soon... Full recovery should be soon, I hope.

Injured :-(

I injured my right wrist at the beginning of March at work. I should point out here that I am right handed. Luckily, it is neither broken nor dislocated, but other than it being a generic "soft tissue injury", I have no idea what is wrong with it. It has been over a month now.

At first, believing it would be an injury quickly recovered from, my boss and I attempted to find work I can do, and when that ran out, I tried to resume my usual duties of data entry. Unfortunately, that aggravated the injury, and so I have been off work since. Queue massive amounts of boredom and depression, and large quantities of paperwork to be filed for the leave.

I'm going stir-crazy at home, only able to watch TV and follow my limited number of facebook friends. Reading books gets sore quickly, as I cannot seem to comfortably adapt to holding a book and turning it's pages one-handed. I'm getting better at writing, typing and mousing with my wrong hand, but it tires quickly. And my right just keeps floating up to the keyboard, wanting to get back into old habits. So even time on the computer has be limited.

I am truly thankful to my wonderful parents who have been visiting to drive me places, clean for me, cut up veggies and cheese into "finger food", and stock my freezer with frozen meals.

I've been avoiding posting any entries up to now, for fear I would want to keep at it, and I simply can't make that kind of typing commitment. But I've been wanting to update my page, and so I've compromised to making just this one post until I am able to handle more typing.

Sites that caught my eye recently...

I've gone through a down slump lately. Ucky weather + SAD + coming off effective/ineffective drugs + a cold = unhappy, to say the least. It's finally starting to ease, and I'm trying to re-focus my attentions to everything that got put on pause.

In order to try to incorporate this into a habit, I feel the need to post something, anything. Half an hour after I should be in bed is not the ideal time for a great post. So, in the meantime, some random sites I've come across lately and have been added to my "To Read" list.

First off: Sarah Hoffman , who wrote the essay "My son, the pink boy"

It is an awesome article that really opens up your eyes about parenting children who are different. She also mentions "My Son is Gay", which is also worth the read.

Next would be http://www.allmotivated.com/. I'm a fan of ICanHasCheezburger and this just seemed to expand on the idea of interesting photos with interesting captions.

Interesting cooking blogs that have caught my attention (besides my two long time favourites, Simply Recipes and 101 Cookbooks) have been:

- Tea & Cookies
- My Kitchen is Too Small (admittedly a start up by my friends, but I'm drooling. And pimping out my cheese-sauce making abilities to hopefully score a jar of lemon curd...)
- The Wednesday Chef

And some old favs found new again:

Digital Blasphemy - Ryan Bliss shows off his stunning pieces of digital art. Some freebies do exist, but you have to be a member to see it all.

DecalGirl - skins for all of your electronics. From what I can see, her product is reasonably priced and good quality. I've yet to try it, but besides whipping out the credit card, I only have one device to skin, and her gallery makes that hard to narrow down to one choice!

Well, that's me for the night. Good night, and I shall try to have something more out later.

My Introduction

Better late then never, eh? Well, to be fair, this was orginally my "About Me" blurb, but I found it too long and off-putting for that section. But not that I didn't want it said. So here it is, though since I'm giving myself more room, well, I've expanded.

Hi, I'm Karen. I don't live a remarkable life, and years of low self-esteem and battling depression left me often wondering what there is about me that others like. I'm finally starting to emerge. By that, I mean, "me", who was buried so deep down in my consciousness that I wondered if there was anything about me worth knowing, has finally been able to escape her shackles and came far enough out to say hi, pleased to meet you. And so begun an internal journey of self-discovery as I start to learn about myself.

A few things happened, almost all at once, and have ended up coalescing to form this blog.

I have MCS, which stands for Multiple Chemical Sensitivity. It's a term I've only recently learned. For years, I've lived with it known as a "perfume allergy". A change in job led me to learn more about this. It's actually a known disability, as it falls under Environmental Sensitivities. And while I always thought worst-case scenario was house-bound, turns out it could be having no one believe you and you end up jobless and homeless, with an arm's length list of symptoms that most doctors can't put together, and at best, misdiagnose you and put you on drugs that can harm you if you don't actually have that disease. Oh, joy. And so begins my journey to learn more about this, to find specialists, and find a means to live with it. Heck, maybe even find a husband willing to live with it, live in a home that won't poison me, and have children who won't disrespect it. Ah, dreams...

Last year, I took on my own little campaign to "fix me". It started innocently enough; I was helping a friend move a cabinet that really, I had no rights to think I could do. It fell and smacked me in the head. (I've heard of the universe slapping you upside the head when you get off your life path, but really, this was a bit much...). Well, that got me a concussion, a compression injury to the neck, and whiplash. Yes, all at once. I found myself doing regular chiropractor and massage, and decided, well, heck, while I'm at it, I might as well heal other things in myself too. And so, I've begun to explore what it is that makes me tick, and either embrace it if it's good or get it out of my life if it's bad. This begun with quitting smoking, and then, attempting to eat healthier, and exercise more. Turns out, my MCS may help guide me on a better path of that, and being on a better path may help ease my MCS...

You know how they say you can trust a fat cook? That obviously, they know good food? Well, this is one fat girl who ensures she has the phone handy in case of self-inflicted food poisoning. Ironically, I've been regularly following 2 cooking blogs for years. I've got a few recipes down, but the kitchen is still a place that leaves me confused, concerned, and amazed... But the budget, the waistline, my health, and sodium-induced swelling in my feet have caused me to realize I need to cook most of my meals and not rely on chemical-heavy pre-processed food.

As I start to learn more about myself, and try to research things on the Internet, I've found myself enjoying the Internet. I mean, the days of ICQ and dial-up and BBS's started in my teens. But while friends started swooning over the thing, I sat back and wondered what was so exciting about it. Ok, yah, it had it's uses. And it was cool to see it. But really, who wants to know so much? That was half a lifetime ago. Since then, I spent a few years in the call centre industry helping people get their connections back so they could go online. Other than it having it's uses, it still seemed little more than a glorified mall where girls could shop, men could find themselves porn in yet another method, sports and news could be followed in another form, and people could now see their bank balance other than having it disjointedly chimed off in your ear. And then something just fell into place in me, and now, now I have a favourites list that is long, and growing, as I find yet another thing I want to know more about.

And finally, as I follow more and more blogs, I found myself wanting to create one for myself. After a failed attempt, I went back to the drawing board, and asked: What are blogs? They are personal places where a person shares what they are passionate about. In the past, I've never considered myself truly passionate about any one subject, and my interests vary with my mood. And I also didn't think I was worth knowing. So, I decided that I needed to embrace an ego and simply put it out there what is I find interesting. That I would find ME in the balance between low self-esteem and narcissism.

So, I don't plan for this to be a cooking blog, or a blog about MCS, or a blog about other neat things happening on the web. Instead of picking one subject, I'm going to use this as a place to share all the little bits of things I've learned in over 15 years of customer service, of being the "non-techie tech" computer geek, of the craft work I enjoy, of the books I read and shows I watch, interesting websites I find, blogs I follow, and to share my story of introducing healthier living options, and of my ongoing fight against MCS. As well as anything else that grabs my interest along the way. And while you get to know me, or at least find a few useful things, I'm going to learn what makes me tick, and what makes me worth knowing.

Welcome to my life.
~Karen

These boots were made for walking...

Last night I reached my first swimming goal: swim 20 laps. Any style, breathers as needed, just get 'er done. Well, my limbs all went to this quivering jelly that was still capable of movement, though it was so lacking in strength only my fat was keeping me afloat, and I certainly had little propulsion through the water.

It felt wonderful.

There are still a few un-named stepping stones until my next major goal: swim 24 laps in concession, no breaks, and under 20 minutes. We'll get there. (By "we" I mean all my body parts working in agreeance with my will...) The body is finally remembering how to coordinate all it's parts so I don't eye up the lifeguards to determine if they're skilled and strong enough to rescue me... Well, ok, I may still eye them up, but now it's not to be certain that my life will be saved should my limbs give out on me, my lungs open up for a gasp of breath while my head is still under water, and I sink to the bottom of the pool in a gurgling mess...

Today, I strapped on my new winter boots, and walked to work. And if my muscles weren't so worn out, and the top lacing needing a bit of adjusting, my feet and ankles and legs were almost disappointed I had reached work, as if more walking was not out of the question. A far cry from even a few days ago; my old winter boots had me trudging through the snow, causing so much fatigue and pain that after the third block everything below the knee was screaming in protest and whimpering for the end of their punishment.

The total walk is a whopping five blocks.

I've been doing that walk for quite a few months now, so being in shape or not has nothing to do with it. The old boots, an ill-fitting hand-me-down from my mother because I had no money to buy new boots, were killing my legs. My new ones are Salomon Nytro GTX, what looks to be a black hiking boot given a goretex layer, a winter lining and cleats that demanded - and got - total submission from ice and slippery frozen slush. Ahh....

I find it a struggle to exercise. Yes, it's a great help for those with depression, but really, some days is a struggle just to get out of bed, let alone into some ill-fitting or uncomfortable clothing and drag my butt outside, especially if it's anything other than a beautiful sun-shiny, bug free, not too cold, not too hot day. Yes, I'm picky. Tell me something I don't know.

But these new boots... They were actually a joy to walk in. I was encouraged to buy new boots as last week I found myself twice thinking it was a lovely evening for a walk, but my boots wouldn't let me get around the block without issues. And now, with Winterlude here, I'm looking forward to going out and seeing the sculptures. I particularly enjoy seeing the ice sculptures at night time with the lights shining through the ice. I've avoided going in the past due to not having warm enough clothing, or being afraid to slip in the snow or ice. (Bad knees and ankles from various injuries over the years and a concussion last year has made me cautious, perhaps a wee bit too cautious at times.)

It's a wonderful feeling to get over that slump of forcing yourself to exercise to actually enjoying adding activity to your day or week.

Just a quick note

I'm still quite new to this, so I do apologize that there is not much to see. I'm still debating pulling the whole thing, but we shall see. Thanks for checking it out, but come back in a month or so to see if this has turned into something or not. :-)

How does a quick habit turn into a new life?

I'm thinking how wonderful it is for thought processes to finally open up again.Though frankly, the timing could have been better... It started off innocently enough. One last check on FB before I head off to bed. 40 min later, my head is spinning, trying to remember how I fell down this rabbit hole, and annoyed that I have no time to continue to enjoy this wonderment. It will be saved, and with the best of intentions. But it won't be the same.

I went from seeing my friend thanking people for her birthday wishes. To the side, a pic of her and another friend. A click on that pic took me to the album it was part of, titled "30 day challenge". I vaguely recall that starting, but a few quick clicks isn't telling me much. So I open a new tab, and google search it. A few clicks later, and I have my answer. Bookmark that, as it sounds interesting enough to try. Might push me into practicising a bit more...

Things get fuzzy here, but somehow, that same google search also brought up something that I clicked on, with a whisper of a curiousity... And a few clicks later, I'm looking at beautiful photography. The kind that makes you stop and stare, breathing blending into the background. The part of you that engages in greed is thirsting for more, like a dog straining at the end of his leash, but you somehow manage to stop and savour the beauty in front of you.

Eventually giving in to that pull that has become a tug, and a few clicks later, I find myself staring at more stunning photos, many being landscapes - my favourite - and others that while are perhaps not my type of photo, are still stunning, and even as a novice I can tell that they are at the top of their class (like how I understand Stephen King is a great author, though I'm not a fan of his genre). These photos are covers of ebooks available, different topics and aspects of photography. How to better eye up a scene, how to capture the raw beauty in a Canadian winterscape, or nighttime shots, or finding inspiration in your own backyard.

The pragmatic, logical, cynical thoughts come up. Too good to be true, or there's a catch, or something. To start reading the reviews, and to discover that this is a joint effort from many different photographers. Another tab opened, and a google search, and from a first glance, this seems legit.

All I can do is stare at wonderment. And then wish my clock did not tell the time it does, because it means if I stay up much later, I will be an absolute bear at work, requiring crazy amounts of caffeine and sugar to keep going through the day. To quote a friend - ironically the same one who's album started me down this hole - le sigh.

I've managed to live most of my life so far without feeling much of a passion for anything. Interest, yes, of course. My book collection can attest to that. But a desire to gobble up every morsel of information on a subject, no. And I get the feeling this is only a stirring, a build up. I suspect my favourites list will be growing even more, and I wonder how I will find the time to pursue all this. Hopefully as this tidal wave comes in, it will bring with it enough energy as well. And while finding myself staring at this new path, shaking with fear at this new unknown, it feels oddly right, and something I look forward to.

Listing the Emotional Response

I've whittled it down to a fine art of which symptoms to talk about when someone asks me what happens when I smell perfumes or colognes. It's a nice pat answer, doesn't make people's eyes glaze over. Though I wonder if by not saying everything outright if I'm doing myself a misservice and keeping them from truly understanding the impact it has on me.

I also must get a handle of the flood of emotions and scattered thoughts that come from exposure. I need to find a way that through it all I can somehow politely tell someone to get away from me with their scent trail, how dare they violate my space, don't you know this hurts me??? Right now, I don't say anything. I can't. If I lose control of myself, it's going to come out as a sobbing mess or with an anger that rivals that of stereotypical red-headed Irish sailors. Both of which can affect far more in my life.

How do I describe this, the emotional roller coaster that I go through? I suppose people who have been assaulted would understand this best. As far as I know, no one's ever been charged with assault for wearing perfume around someone who has sensitivities to that. Never mind that a brick to the back of my head may hurt less sometimes, and at least it's something a doctor can stitch back together.

It's not a matter of the fact that I can smell it. It's the fact that these irritants are being brought into my body. I have no choice in breathing. If it's got a smell it just lets me know what is happening instead of having my body go into revolt on me without my knowing why.

There's initial panic when I smell something. Is this going to hurt me? What's going to happen? A sigh of relief that it was just the alcohol only hand sanitizer and a stern reminder to my head for reacting. Or no, it was perfume/cologne/air freshener. Oh no. Swearing begins in my head. My spirit falls. Responses honed over hundreds of exposures over the years kick in.

So many thoughts start scrambling in my brain, all within a split second. I force control back and take status of what I've breathed in. I force myself to hold my last breath in for as long as I can. Maybe I can get away or they will leave before I have to draw breath again. It's become second nature to me. I assess my surroundings. Can I flee, right now, get the hell away from that, reduce my exposure?

Whether it helps or not is not the question. I have to try. Every time. Regardless that it rarely seems to help if I can. If I'm in the middle of something, I have to keep working on it until I can leave it at a spot I can pick it back up from.

If I'm just chatting with someone, especially if they understand, I can generally make a quick apology and escape. But if I'm having a serious conversation, whether on the phone or in person, I have to stay.

I have to lock down an iron grip on my body. Stay put. Keep a hold of itself, suck it up, buttercup. Keep decent eye contact. Make sure that some secondary system ensures that I'm still listening to what they are saying, somehow. The mouth is giving appropriate responses. At least, I trust this is happening. I cannot spare enough concentration to make sure; I certainly will only remember snippits of this later. Cue despair. Push it roughly aside. If I can, if it's not rude, take a step back. Maybe putting some distance will help. Not likely. Most times I can't take enough steps away without seeming rude, or even worse, the unconcious nature of human bodies, their body steps forward to bridge the gap. I can't keep that up without us finding ourselves in some strange dance. A strange dance where they unwittingly chase me as I try to flee in circles.

Do not let tears well up, certainly not fall. Shallow breathing kicks in. Not too deep and it might help reduce the exposure. I've learned I can't keep that up for long or the reduced oxygen wrecks it's own havoc in my battered body. Don't cough. If one cough escapes, more will follow, and keep following until it finally calms down. Can I grab a sip of water or a hard candy without being obvious? Sometimes it helps keep my throat soothed enough. I can feel the scent clinging to my throat, it tickles, I need to get it out of me, my throat is constricting ready to cough it out. Iron grip. A hand hidden from their sight grips tightly, fingernails digging in, in an effort to continue to keep control over my body.

I can't run away from a coworker or boss that is speaking to me. If I leave a meeting or a training session I will miss that information. I can't run away from a cashier before I've made my payment. I can't pull up my pants and run out of the bathroom when I'm in the middle of my business there.

Before and as symptoms kick in, I wonder what will happen from exposure from this particular cocktail. Can I just have a couple of coughs and then maybe a slight headache at the end of the day? Or even if I start a huge coughing fit and my throat is sore and hoarse for the rest of the day, will the headache wait until later, if it even comes? Or should I be remembering everything I wanted to do today, and while I have the mental capacity left to me, should I start reorganizing my calendar so that when I go home to take some hard-hitting pain meds and fall asleep that I won't be owing an appointment cancellation fee somewhere or be a lousy friend and cancel plans with someone? Oh, and let's make space for tomorrow as well. Too many migraines just seems to become an invitation to weekly or even daily ones.

There's despair, depression, confusion, anger, resignation. This is happening again. Despite the precautions I set up. Despite that I know this person has been told. Despite the fact that I've talked to them and told them how much this hurts me. Are they doing this to me on purpose? Do they really hate me this much? How am I ever supposed to work again? To go out shopping? To eat out? How can I ever take public transportation? Go out to a bar? Go to the gym? Travel? Planes? Trains? Cruise? See other countries? Attend college or university? Take a photography course or french lessons or any other thing I may want to try that involves leaving my apartment? Should I just give up? Maybe there are strong enough meds that I can take that will let me live in a fog when I leave my home. Nevermind that it's not really living. I'm never going to find a guy. Even if I could go out in public enough to meet and date someone, who really wants to marry this? I wouldn't choose this life for anyone. How can I expect anyone to choose to live it with me? Or children? How cruel is it of me to ask them to maintain this dilligence of keeping scents out? Or let them have friends over?

Maybe I should live with a mask on. I hate people staring at me, pointing at me, laughing at how geeky it looks, or crossing the street to avoid whatever it is I must have to require such a heavy duty thing. Obviously I'm the one who's endangering others if I'm wearing the mask, not the other way around. Let's not even talk about completely covering myself in a Tyvek suit to ensure their scents don't seep into my clothes and I take it home and contaminate my home.

And when I wake up the next morning, a sense of dread comes out. Am I going to be hurt again today? Most days I can swallow that thought back down and get up and going. Repeat the lie to myself: I'll be ok today; just because it happened before does not mean it will happen again.