Quick Update...

I'm leaving for a family cottage tomorrow, and I'm SO excited. I haven't been there in 5 years, and I can't wait to get back there and see the place and see what has changed and what is still exactly the way I remember. And this will be my baby niece's first trip to the beach, so it should be fun to have her there. We will be "celebrating" her 1/2 birthday while we're there... I'm not sure we'll celebrate so much as acknowledge it on the day, but I can't believe that six months have passed so quickly! And on that note, my little nephew started junior kindergarten this year, and my other niece is in 2nd grade! I feel old.

My wrist is still giving me a lot of trouble and pain... as much as before surgery, which my surgeon says is not good, so we have to look into infection inside my wrist. Ugh. I got my blue cast off, and we found a pretty bad infection hiding out on the skin... so that's finally cleared up. I had to take the worst tasting/smelling antibiotics ever! I think it had sulfur in it or something. And no one is quite sure if this was caused from those antibiotics, but 48 hours after I started taking them, both my legs swelled up to twice their normal size! And my toes started bruising. It was most bizarre. But I've finished the meds and the swelling seems to have gone down. Just in time for the beach, too!

Anyway, I apologize for this being such a short post, but I really wanted to update my blog... but it's now after 10pm and I still have some cleaning and packing to do before tomorrow. I have quartet practice in the morning before we leave, so I really must finish everything tonight.

I hope you are all doing well, and I promise to write again soon!

Wait, What?...

There are many many things in life that confuse me. I could probably write for hours about all the things that I don't understand in life... but I think for now, I'll stick with the top 10. And in no particular order, they are:

1. "Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle, some nights, I wish they'd just fall off."  - Lyrics from Fun's Some Nights. What on Earth is he trying to say? Why would you want your lips to build a castle? How would you even think that that could be possible? And why, oh why, would you wish for your lips to fall off? I don't understand. 
2. Water Polo. I watched the women's competition for this year's Olympics and I still have no idea why the referee kept blowing that whistle, and why none of the girls seemed to stop what they were doing when he did. I thought whistle blowing meant that you had to stop because you did something wrong... but they just kept going! 
3. Switching from TV to DVD (and vice versa) on someone else's television. Why don't they just save everyone the trouble and make all TVs the same? It should be a simple equation of a button or two... and it should be the same button or two on every single system! 
4. Why more than one guy has sent me a picture of his genitalia. Why would you do that? Here's the thing all guys need to know: It's not an attractive piece of anatomy. Period. Do not send a girl a photo of it.. especially a girl that you're not currently being intimate with... and ask her opinion. Gross. 
5. Jersey Shore. There's a song by YouTube star NicePeter that has the line: "I'm so tired of terrible people being admired for being terrible people." That pretty well sums up Jersey Shore for me. It has an entire cast of people who should not be on television. Except maybe on Cops. 
6. Celebrities who shoplift. People like Winona Ryder, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears and Farrah Fawcett have all been accused of shoplifting at some point. I don't understand. They have enough money to buy out the entire store... and yet they steal? 
7. The Great Gatsby. The novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald has got to be, in my opinion, the most terrible, slow-moving, boring book ever, and yet it's considered one of the great classics. I don't get it. 
8. Fast Food. We all know how bad it is for us, and yet we continue to eat it. What is wrong with us?
9. Not being an animal person. How heartless can you be? They're so sweet and cute. I don't see how anyone could look at a picture of a little koala bear or baby penguin or something and not melt! 
10. Job experience. You can't get the experience without getting the job, but you can't get the job without having experience. You can't win! 

 That's all folks, thanks for stopping by!

A Happy Heart...

Just a few pictures taken around the yard on a warm, sunny afternoon

I hope you're having a lovely day too! :)

Almost 1 Year Later... Warning: Some Photos May Be Graphic!

Since it's getting somewhat close to the one year "anniversary" of my wrist accident, I thought I would dedicate this post to a recap of what I've been through (and still continue to today).

As you probably already know, last September (2011) I had a customer at work knock a pile of lumber on me, severing the scaphoid lunate ligament. That following November, I had my first surgery to repair the ligament with a synthetic one. I went into the surgery looking like this:

After the doctor came in and described the surgery and planned out with me each step, I looked like this:

After surgery, I woke up looking like this:

Surgery was successful. In December I got my first cast. Pretty, huh?:

The cast came with a special window that housed a temporary pin. The pin was to hold up my scaphoid bone while the synthetic ligament healed: 

In January 2012, I developed an infection around the pin. One day, I accidentally bashed my wrist on the car door, pushing the pin in 3/4 of an inch, and causing the infection to become septic. On January 10th, I was admitted to the hospital and had my first surgery to clean out the infection. It ended up taking a second surgery (or third if we're counting) on the 12th before the infection was finally out of my system.

However, during that surgery on the 12th, I bit the intibation tube during general anesthesia. This caused me to suffer flash pulmonary edema during recovery. 

I was in the hospital for the total of one week. After my surgeries, I was very stiff and couldn't open my hand:

  

For the next five days, I worked on healing and getting my hand to work properly. Eventually I was able to straighten my fingers:

After that, I got out of the hospital and started physiotherapy. I went 5 days/week, and was able to return to work.

Then one day in April I was at work, and signed my name on a few forms. Apparently that was too much, because my wrist seized and I had to leave work, rush to my physiotherapist, and get her to manipulate my wrist so that it would move. It took 48 hours before my wrist finally relaxed. I went to my surgeon the following week, where we determined that I had re-ruptured the ligament that he had fixed back in November.

At that point, the scars were finally starting to heal nicely, though the one on the side was quite the eyesore because it had been stitched instead of stapled like the one on the back.

After a very long and painful wait, I finally had my 4th surgery on July 23rd to reconstruct the ligament. This time, instead of a synthetic ligament, I opted to have a metal screw drilled through to hold everything in place. Surgery was successful, although while fighting his way through all the scar tissue, the surgeon did accidentally clip and sever a tendon. He was able to suture it up in surgery, and while it means I might have a slightly longer than expected recovery, he is hopeful that everything should end up normal. Also, he was nice enough to staple both incision sites this time, to clear up the ugly scar.

I had the staples removed last week, and got a new cast put on. A waterproof one this time!

I've got another 3 weeks in this cast, and then if there are no complications, I'll be starting physio again, and hopefully that's the end of all this madness!! Enough is enough already!

So now you're all caught up :)

Home Away From Home...

Everybody needs a place to go to get away from their daily troubles and stress. Whether it be a cottage, a trip, or even just a week without the kids, having somewhere to escape helps us cope with the realities of home. For me, that place has always been at a secluded little lake in Barry's Bay, Ontario.

There, nestled in the pine trees and set in front of the shimmering waters, where the loons cry and the stars are never brighter, lies a small Polish camp, that for two weeks of the year is home to Chilawee Trails.

Chilawee is an all-girls, Catholic based, summer camp, and my favourite place in the world. I started attending as a camper when I was 10 years old. At the time, the camp itself was only 1 years old. It was my first time away from home, and I went on a school bus out of Toronto that was packed full of excited girls. I only knew one or two, but that was all I needed to feel secure.

After a long 5 hour trip, we finally arrived at the oasis. We were late for dinner, so those of us who had taken the bus ate together, while the rest of the camp had their campfire and activities. My counsellor-in-training (CIT) introduced me to the other girl from the bus who would be in the same cabin as myself. That girl and I became fast friends. I am proud to say that even now, 15 years later, we are close friends.

There is something magical about Chilawee Trails; an almost palpable spirit of friendship and positive energy that consumes the camp. There is no such thing as cliques or popularity, no judgement from others, and no sense of exclusion. Friendship, fun, teamwork and encouragement are really the cornerstones. There is always music playing (usually 90's or oldies if I'm involved), singing, dancing, funny outfits and hairstyles, and a lot of laughter going on.

Of all the things I love about camp, there are two things that I think are my favourites. One is the campfires. Even today, if I catch a hint of bug spray, I am immediately taken back to those nights. The entire camp attends, and everyone stands around the fire and sings together. When I became staff, I was quick to be the one to lead the songs. There is no greater high for me than to get up in front of all of my friends and encourage them to join me in a song. There are a number of must-sings, and sometimes someone will be brave enough to teach a new song, which we quickly add to our repertoire for the next summer. The night ends with the staff singing a goodnight song, and then the campers are lead back to their cabins by flashlight.    

The other thing that tops my list may seem a little unorthodox. However, I am nothing if not unorthodox, so here it is. One of my absolute favourite parts of camp is... washing supper dishes. I know how strange that seems, but it's something that has to be experienced to truly understand. A group of 4-5 of us will get together after supper, while the rest of the camp is busy with another activity, and divide up the task. Usually two people wash, I always opt to load and run the sanitizer, and then someone dries and puts away. The reason that this is fun for us is because we play music while we work. Often it's the Backstreet Boys, the Grease soundtrack, 60's music, the Spice Girls, or something equally as fun. We crank up the volume, and sing and dance while we clean. Many a dance choreography has been created during that time. Then there are the inevitable water fights. It almost always starts because someone put too much soap in the sink, and we need to get rid of some of the suds (Someone else's face is always a good place...). Sometimes the instigator isn't even in the kitchen. Outside, there is a hose hooked up to the building, and someone (often one of the directors), will hear us singing and laughing, and they'll turn the hose on the open window. Of course, we are forced to retaliate, though we always end up being the ones who are completely soaked. 

There are other wonderful parts to the camp as well. There are hikes, canoe trips, sports, crafts, swimming, talent shows, skits, mealtime games, tuck shops, a type of secret-santa, bedtime stories, olympics, theme days, and so much more. The entire camp is an experience like no other.

I attended that camp for 13 years straight. By my last year, I was one of the directors. Unfortunately, life has gotten in the way, and I have not been able to attend in a few years. I do, however, hope that my time has not completely ended there. I think it is essential for some of the staff who fully understand, and can keep alive, the spirit of the camp, to return and pass on the traditions and see that each new camper has the same amazing experience that they themselves had.

I hope that everyone has the opportunity to be exposed to something that is as positively life-altering as Chilawee Trails in their lifetime. I credit that camp for the person that I am today.

To end off, here are some things I have learned from Chilawee:

Accept and encourage others.

Always be a good role model, because you never know who is watching.

Be the first to be friendly and welcoming to those who are shy or unsure.

Fashion, trends, and outer beauty are the least important things in life.

Things that isolate you, such as headphones, magazines, and cell phones should be avoided in all social situations because you never know the fun you could be having, or the people that you could be excluding.

Take a lot of pictures of the good times.

Be the first to keep in touch. Some people aren't the best at it, so always be the one to instigate it.

Embarrassment is the silliest thing in the world. It's okay to let loose.

Music brings people together, and makes work a lot more fun.

Thanks for reading :)




     

Hello Again...

I've really been neglecting this blog, and for that I apologize. It's hard to think of something to say when every day is the same, and they all overlap in my mind.

I've been doing physiotherapy for quite awhile now, and it's great. I have two therapists that I see, and they are awesome and not too mean to my poor wrist. I'm definitely seeing results in my flexibility and range. Though I hurt my wrist about a week ago when I signed my name at work. I moved a bone in my wrist, and had to leave and go back to physio to get them to help me. Now they want me to go back and see my surgeon to see if the synthetic ligament has stretched. If it has, I will need to begin surgery all over again. And that would mean having a ligament harvested from my forearm to put in my wrist! But, I don't speak to my surgeon for another two weeks... so we're just not going to think about that until then.

Did you notice the part about me being back at work? Yes, I am working again. If you can call it that. I have strict instructions from my physiotherapists that I can work with "Absolutely No Use Of Right Hand" ... which means I can stand at the door, greeting customers and handing out flyers. For four hours at a time. It is the definition of not fun. I feel every single minute as it passes, and most customers don't want a flyer and are annoyed that I am there, standing between them and their shopping.

But at least it's getting me out of the house. I have somewhere to be, something to do, and I'm out dealing with people. After all that time of being a sickly hermit in the house, it's definitely a good thing.

The only other new thing in my life is my new baby niece, born in March. She's a sweetheart. Very smiley, and dramatic, which I love. My other niece and nephew are 6 and 4, respectively, so it's been a lot of fun having a baby around again.

That's all I have right now. I promise I will update again soon. Until then! xoxo

Bullies...

I know there's a lot of trending topics about bullying these days, and maybe its getting old, but I can't help but jump on the "bandwagon" because I have first-hand experiences. I was never the bully. I was, on occasion, an accomplice to bullying. Whether it was helping spread gossip, or standing nearby and laughing when someone else was being tormented. Probably out of relief that the gossip was not about me, and that the bullies were focusing on someone else instead of me. Maybe that makes me a bully too. I don't like to think of it that way, but okay, you know what... maybe I was a bully. They say bullies are made from people who were bullied themselves.

I was certainly bullied. It started when I was in grade six. I was home schooled from grades 1-5, so I never had a ton of social experiences where I learned to fit in with other kids. And while part of me regrets missing out on those experiences, the other side of me is glad that I was never forced to become a lemming or a sheep, and that I had to figure out who I was on my own. But whichever perspective I chose to focus on, I didn't fit it. I didn't know brand names, I didn't listen to the same music, I didn't watch the same TV shows or movies, and I didn't understand all the terms and jokes about sex that everyone else did.

I was just starting to get a hint about hormones and boys and all those fun changes during puberty. I wasn't interested in "dating". In fact, I remember my first week of regular school, when a boy announced to the entire class that he had a crush on me. I was terrified. A few girls in my class tried to literally push me to slow dance with him at a school dance. I said no and ran away. Why? Because I had no idea how to slow dance! And because I didn't know what him liking me meant, or what I would be expected to do or how to act if I let things head in that direction.

Okay, back to the topic at hand.

Bullying began in grade six. I wasn't like the other girls, and they made sure I knew it. I can recall being out at recess and everyone was going to play basketball. Captains were chosen, and teams were picked. Except me. No one picked me, even though I was standing right there, waiting and hoping to play. I spent a lot of recesses sitting by the door, waiting for the bell to ring, and hoping I was invisible. Sometimes I would even go and play with the kindergartners because at least they treated me like I was somebody. When I got to grade eight, I learned to make friends with the teachers. Having older siblings meant that I communicated easier with adults than I did with my peers. The teachers never wanted to encourage me to avoid the confrontation of my classmates, but sometimes they relented and allowed me to stay in to help decorate their classroom, or they would chat with me and not usher me out the door when the bell rang.

I was hoping that high school would be chance to have a fresh start to make some real friends or even reinvent myself. In the end, the opposite happened. I started trying to make myself more like everyone else.

P.S. It didn't work.

Trying to make myself more like everyone else only succeeded in making me more self-conscious and lowered my feelings of self-worth. And then, because I was so vulnerable, both inwardly and externally, I became a target. I've been told since those days that I was my own worst enemy for being bullied and that I always offered reasons for others to pick on me. I'm sorry, but I really hate that. What qualifies as a legitimate excuse to humiliate someone or to put them down?

I remember walking home from school in grade nine and having a carload of senior students stop, get out, and encircle me, "moo-ing" and telling me I was a cow. And it was almost a daily occurrence to have the bus students throw food at me as they went by.

I can also remember walking in the hallway and having people, for who knows what reason, take my picture and laugh hysterically. Thankfully, Facebook hadn't been invented yet, so I didn't have to worry about them being posted for the entire world to see.

The only real satisfaction that I felt in high school was when I started grade 12. Nothing had changed, except the realization that once June arrived, I never had to see any of those people ever again. That was a powerful moment for me, because it took the meaning and truth out of the terrible things that were said to me. I never had to see those people ever again. And since then, I haven't. I have one or two good friends from high school, but those are people whom I have chosen to continue a relationship with.

Once I got out of high school, and took a year off to rediscover myself, and then went to college. It was then that I stopped allowing myself to be bullied. Not to say that I didn't have bullies to deal with or that I didn't have people who could bring me down, but I learned to love myself and to no longer take what people said to heart.

I'm still too trusting, and people disappoint me in life, but I've learned to keep a cushion under me. I don't hit rock bottom every time my feelings get hurt, anymore. Instead, I might fall down, but I am not permanently bruised and I can get right back up and move on.

It's All In How You Look At It...

Do you have a vision for your life? Or have you relinquished and feel that you've "ended up" where you are? I don't believe any of us has ended up anywhere. It doesn't matter how old you are, there is always room to change your circumstances and improve things in your life.

I feel that I have acres of room to improve my life. I have visions of where I'd like to be in 5, 10, and 20 years from now. I even have plans for next year. But I think it's important to recognize that it's only February and 2012 has just begun. So what to do with the gift of the next 10 months of this year?

For myself, I'm working on the little goals. Goal #1 is to get my wrist back into shape. I start physical therapy on Thursday and I can't wait. I know it'll hurt, but it will be a healing kind of pain. I survived sepsis and flash pulmonary edema...I can handle a little wrist manipulation.

What's got me in such an existential mood today is that I woke up feeling despair. I haven't worked in 4 months, I very rarely get to see my friends, and I haven't felt well enough to go out or exercise or do too much. Woe is me, right? Perspective is a powerful thing.

How about: I almost died twice this year, but I lived! I haven't been able to work, but I've still been getting paid! I may not have seen my friends much, but the important people have stayed in contact with me, even if it's not face-to-face! I haven't been feeling well but I've been healing and I know that soon I will be back to my old self! Maybe an even better version of myself! And most importantly, I've been out of the hospital for over a month!

Perspective.

I catch myself daydreaming about my life a lot these days. There are things I would love to experience, people I would love to meet, and I have an image of myself and what I could be and look like. Mostly, I just brush off those dreams and try to concentrate on the now. But what's so wrong about dreaming? And why does it have to stay just a dream? Why can't I do those things, meet those people, and become who I would like to become?

People do it everyday. They achieve their goals and they live their dreams. That could be me. Maybe it will be me. Maybe I should give myself the benefit of the doubt and go back to a time when I truly believed I could do absolutely anything.

Maybe I should change my perspective. How about you?

I'm Back, Sorry...

I'm sorry that I've been neglecting you, dear Readers. I have no excuse other than I couldn't wrap my brain around enough cohesive thoughts to warrant a post.

Well Happy Belated Valentines Day! I hope your day was full of warms and fuzzies. Mine was not, but at least I got some chocolate and watched a super cute movie! I watched Going The Distance with Drew Barrymore and Justin Long. Loved it.

I got my PICC line removed on Monday!! Woohoo! I was terrified that it was going to hurt or that I was going to feel it being pulled out, but it was nothing at all. The only part that I didn't like was that I had it removed in a room that was full of chemotherapy patients. It was so sad. I felt guilty that I was able to get up and leave and feel fine afterwards. And I'm pretty sure I'm the only person the nurse was congratulating. But nonetheless, the line is removed, the wound seems to be healing well, and I go to see my surgeon on Friday to discuss some bloodwork and to hopefully set up some physical therapy! I can't wait to get my wrist back in working order.

And if getting my PICC line didn't spice up my Monday, how I spent my evening certainly did! I had seen an ad in the newspaper offering free singing lessons to women at a local retirement community. So I showed up, not sure what I was getting into, and it turned out to be a local all-female barbershop choir! They were ecstatic to have me, and I was brought into another room with the director and another newcomer and got to show off my singing range. And then I got to join the women! It was a blast! There is only one tenor (what I call soprano) in the group, but she was so excited that I could match her note for note and she was great at offering me advice and encouraging me. I got tons of compliments from the other women, including a big smile and thumbs up from the director at one point. I'm definitely going back next week!

I don't get to be an official "member" until I've auditioned. And the audition process is pretty daunting. They give you a song to learn, you have to memorise it - words, notes, melodies and rhythmn and perform it in a quartet! Scary! But until I'm ready (the director said it often takes about a month to be) I get to show up every week for free and learn! And the other tenor recorded us singing and is going to email me the mp3 so that I can listen and practice at home! So much fun! I've really missed singing in a group. I was in a church youth choir and did a musical in high school, etc, but it's been a good while. I hope I get far enough to audition and become a member. Once I'm a member I'll get to participate in contests and performances. I've YouTube'd some of their previous events, and they are amazing! And they have so much fun!

So that's about it for my adventures recently. I'm getting my hair cut today, and I'm stoked. I've been feeling and looking like crap for so long, I can't wait to look a little more put together. I also have a mission to get my energy back. I think I've walked the dog once in the past two months. Poor baby. But... lack of exercise aside... I've lost 20 pounds since the day I was admitted into the hospital! I don't recommend being sick as a way to kickstart weightloss, but I'm certainly not complaining about the results.

Be nice to someone today!

Who Needs Sleep...

I DO! I haven't slept since Monday night. And no, I'm not exaggerating. Never even dozed last night. I did, however, lay in bed staring into the dark. All night. For 7 hours to be exact. That is a very long time to be bored and unable to make any noise. I thought dawn would never get here! While I lay waiting for the sun to rise, here are some thoughts I had:

What kind of dog should I get when I move out? Well, I really like Golden Retrievers. But I want a rescue. I'm sure there's a Golden rescue somewhere near here.

I should look into acupuncture or something to help me sleep. Probably have to have them inserted into my eyeballs or something.

I can't wait to get my hand function back! I miss playing guitar and beading and painting. I hope I have enough function to do all that.

If I weren't allergic, I'd love to to have kittens. I'd get a pair and name them Rascal (m) and Mischief (f)

I probably shouldn't colour my hair anymore. It's so unhealthy. Plus I like my natural colour.

I'm glad my wrist scars look like surgical scars and not like I'm a Cutter.

I wish it was summer so I could go kayaking. I hope the river is cleaner this year.

Making a mental list of all the movies I've seen starring Drew Barrymore. Now Sandra Bullock. Now Julia Roberts.

I once promised myself that I would be published by 25. That's in 5 months. Crap.

I'm so jealous of Maggie right now. I can't sleep and she's out cold.

There has got to be a better use of my time than just lying here.

Sigh.

It's Going To The Dogs...

Well this post is, anyway. And not just any dog, but my dog! I have a gorgeous little Shihpoo (Shih tzu / Poodle) named Maggie. I got her from kijiji.com after I posted an ad saying that we were looking for an small, adult, non-shedding dog to keep my retired parents active. (Okay, I was so desperate for a dog, I was willing to take any measure needed). I didn't bother perusing all the other dogs being sold or given up on, because so many of them just said "take it, best offer." I hoped that by me posting an ad, someone who really cared who the new owner of their dog was would answer.

And has luck would have it, there was a woman out there who was waiting for someone to request a dog like her's. She didn't want to offer her dog up to just anyone. So she was holding out for a wanted ad. Fates collided, next thing we know she's bringing 4 year-old Maggie to our house for a visit.

You couldn't have trained Maggie to charm us better if you'd tried. She came in, and the first thing she did was jump up on my dad's lap. Normally my dad is afraid of dogs. Wary might be a better word. He doesn't know how to read them and is always concerned they might get aggressive. Not the case with Maggie. He was so delighted by the little goofball.

Then she jumped off him and up onto my mom's lap. My mom has never owned a dog and doesn't know much about them. I've seen other dogs go in her lap uninvited and she would stiffen, and look very uncomfortable. But with Maggie, my mom seemed a little surprised, and then was quite happy to pet her.

Her last turn was to come visit me on the floor. I had barely lifted my hand to pet her, and she was swung over on her back, looking for belly rubs. And of course, I melted.

We arranged a trial run that weekend with the owner. Needless to say, we called her on the Sunday and said "If you don't want to bother coming back, we'll take her." And the lady said "I don't have any emotional attachment to her... she's all yours."


Maggie on the first night at her new digs


We kept her name even though I'm not a fan because it was the only thing she did know.

Over the next few weeks I worked hard training her. I'm a huge advocate for positive training, and she learned fast. The hard part was (and remains to this day) to get my parents to remain consistent once I taught her something. Well at least I was consistent, and Maggie seemed to understand that I was the one with the rules-to-be-followed. I was also the one who let her share the bed. Bonus.

So that's Maggie's past. Now she is 8 years old and still the world's biggest sweetheart. She loves everyone, especially kids! She decided out of the blue for awhile there that she hated other dogs, but I've been arranging for her to socialize more and more and she's doing much better.

Maggie can be hilarious. Her arch rivals are squirrels. And they bait her so badly (I can be her witness to this). They climb along the front of the house and try to creep into the bird feeder before Maggie tries to tear down the window from the inside.


My "killer" girl protecting the house


Another favourite Maggie-ism is that she knows whether or not I am going downstairs to watch television or if I'm just grabbing something from the pantry or changing laundry loads. If I'm not watching tv, she won't follow me. Instead she lies at the top of the stairs with her nose pointed down and waits. Then when I go back up the stairs she does this stretch and waves her paw. She does it every single time, so I've taken it to mean that she's welcoming me back upstairs.

Other than that, Miss Maggie loves to play fetch with stuffed animals (squeaky ones!), and she loves to do tricks for treats, especially for cheese! But most of her day is spent snoozing away, preferably in the sun.



Lounging on the warm driveway

But of everything I love about her, and of all of her great qualities, my favourite thing about my little girl is that she's always there when I need her.




Visiting me in the hospital 2012

Detoxing The House...

So around here we get sick a lot. And by around here I mean in this house. My dad and I catch everything that goes around and then we share it with each other and my mom. Aren't we sweet? We also have a lot of breathing issues. My dad and I have asthma (yay genetics) and my mom has even started wheezing. So my mom and I have set out on a mission to get rid of some of our household toxins that could be part of our problem.

First thing we did was get rid of the microwave. Okay, so we just unplugged it and turned it around. I think if we actually donated it my dad would have a full-on conniption. But as long as it's sitting on the dishwasher... whether its working or not, he can deal. He definitely complains now and then that he can't have microwave popcorn or that he can't make oatmeal in 30 seconds, but for the most part we're all dealing just fine without it. I've come to love the broiler. Honestly, it's as fast as a microwave... without all the radiation. Bonus.

The next move was to get rid of the toxic cleaning products. I'm personally very susceptible to allergies when it comes to cleaners. No Febreeze, Endust, or Sunlight Detergent for this girl. We were able to donate most, if not all, our cleaning products to people who will use them. We now have some Green Works but mostly just water and vinegar or lemon juice, etc. Diluted vinegar works so well on glass streaks! Windex? Psht.

Some other things we have done are: replaced the teflon frying pan with a ceramic one, swapped the vinyl shower curtain for a fabric one, and switched the plastic tupperware with glass ones.

But my favourite project was making our own laundry soap! We used the Duggar's recipe (19 Kids and Counting) and it works great! We didn't add any essential oils or anything, and it still makes everything smell fresh and clean. And if we want stain remover or fabric softener, we just add some vinegar. And as an added plus, it also cleans the washing machine's pipes!

We're contemplating making our own dish soap and hand soap too. The recipes are fairly similar to the laundry soap.

So far so good. There haven't been any colds, flus or asthma attacks in quite a while!

It could also be because I'm chained to my iv bag 24/7 and am on so many medications that I physically can't get sick.

But I'm sticking with the story that it is all because we now cook breakfast on ceramic instead of teflon! :)

Where Was I...

Okay, I'm just going to admit it. It's not easy to come out and say it, especially on a public website. But here it is... the truth.

I have no sense of direction.

Phew, I'm glad I got that off my chest! It's so true though, I get lost more often than I'd like to admit. It first started with taking public transit. I would second guess myself about which bus I was supposed to take or which stop I was supposed to get off at. And then when I was in college and would take a bus home from residence on the weekends, I would get my times wrong, or be standing at the wrong bus stop, or get on the wrong one, or my bus would have a transfer and either I would stay on when I was supposed to get off, or I'd get off when I should have stayed. Etc. You get the picture.

But even today, I managed to lose my way several times. And it was just something as simple as going to my doctor's office. How many times have I done that before? Hello... I'm Miss Bubble Wrap for a reason! But here's what happened.

My mom and sister were having lunch at a local pub, so I dropped my mom off and then went to the doctor's office. Except I couldn't find a parking space. So I went around the block again, and decided that I would just park in the parking garage rather than waste anymore time. (haha) So I'm in the parking garage and I'm driving around, and around, and around. Man it was full!! But that green jeep looked awfully familiar. Then I realize that I was supposed to turn up the ramp halfway.. not drive in circles on the main level. So, I go up to the second lot and find a spot immediately. And I head to the door that leads into the mall. But I can't find one. All I can find are the doors that lead to the other levels of the garage or to outside. Then some hockey player lady (she was carrying all her gear... that wasn't stereotyping) asks if I'm trying to get to the mall. I said yes, and she told me that I have to go outside and walk around the building. I was in the wrong parking garage! I meant to be in the one that was attached to the mall.

So I go outside, walk around, and find a door to the mall, and go inside. I know my doctor's office is on the second floor. I've been there a million times. Except this time I had gone in an entrance that I'd never used before. So there I was, going up and down flights of stairs, trying different doors, going down hallways I don't recognize. And then suddenly I was there. And I was 20 minutes early and had to sit and wait for them to open from their lunch break.

The only plus from today was that I didn't have to pay for parking. (In case you were wondering, I had no trouble getting out of the garage.) There were no tickets to take and nobody at the gate to give money to. Score.

My dad told me later that you usually need a parking permit to use that lot because it's not intended for the public. Oops! Ah well, if that had been the case I would've been directed to the other parking garage and I wouldn't have had all this trouble. Sheesh.

It's A Dog's Life...

Well I certainly feel like a dog. Or rather, I can now empathize with dogs who are constantly tied up. My leash..er..PICC line is starting to get on my nerves. I think this is my last week of antibiotics, but I still forget sometimes that I have this stupid bag attached to me!

I can't begin to tell you how many times I've gotten up in a hurry and left my bag behind, only to be pulled back again. Thankfully, I've never been so rushed that I've ripped the tube out of my arm or something. But they tell me at the hospital that it happens more than they'd like to admit. And apparently there are a lot of patients who are totally brainless and get the pump wet. It's worth $6,000! They used to not make people pay if they ruined their pump, but after geniuses started dropping them in toilets or taking them in the swimming pool (???), they had to start charging people the full amount. So I am ridiculously careful about keeping mine dry. I just wish I could stop walking away without it!

Speaking of keeping the pump dry, I've been having a heck of time keeping my bandages dry when I get a shower. I've got stuff on both arms that I shouldn't get wet, but so far, no luck.

I've tried saran wrap and those tube garbage bags that newspapers come in. I've tried using those bags and putting elastics on each end and then taping it, but my dressings are always soaked!! If you have ever had a cast or a dressing that you couldn't get wet, how did you keep it dry? I refuse to go back to sponge bathing or taking a bath with my arms up in the air ever again. I love the shower. And even if I have to dress up like an extra in the world's lowest budgeted sci-fi movie, I'm going to do it!

I had a different blog idea for today, but my PICC line is driving me up the wall and I needed to vent. I'll use my other topic idea tomorrow.

Anyways, I'm open to any and all (reasonable) suggestions for keeping my bandages from getting wet!

Hope you're having a wonderful day!

My Top 5...

Let's get to know each other. I'll start ;) Here are my Top 5 different things. Some of them are in no particular order, just the order I thought of them!

Movies I love

1. The Princess Bride



2. While You Were Sleeping



3. Twister



4. Fried Green Tomatoes



5. Life Is Beautiful

Movies I Hate

1. Team America



2. Constantine



3. The Shining



4. Beowulf



5. The Matrix Trilogy

Dog Breeds

1. Soft-Coated Wheaten Terriers



2. Newfoundlands



3. Cavalier King Charles Spaniels



4. Shetland Sheepdogs



5. Golden Retrievers

Foods

1. Pizza



2. Quesadillas



3. Peanut Butter



4. Crackers



5. Pears

Celebrities I Want To Meet

1. Ellen Degeneres



2. Pink



3. Sandra Bullock



4. Will and Jada (Pinkett) Smith



5. Idina Menzel

Celebrities I Can't Stand

1. Jon Lovitz



2. Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi



3. Russell Brand



4. Paris Hilton



5. Piers Morgan

Books

1. Where The Red Fern Grows



2. The Poisonwood Bible



3. Harry Potter Series



4. The Glass Castle



5. The Monster At The End Of This Book

TV Shows (On The Air)

1. Grey's Anatomy



2. The Big Bang Theory



3. Parking Wars



4. Supernanny



5. Bones

Things I Love

1. Hugs



2. Daisies



3. Tea



4. Photography



5. Animals

Things I Hate

1. Ticking Clocks



2. Foot or Pencil Tapping



3. Unflushed Toilets



4. My Shower Settings Changed



5. Bugs

Songs Of All Time

1. Build Me Up Buttercup



2. The Way You Make Me Feel



3. You Can't Hurry Love



4. I Just Haven't Met You Yet



5. Sound Of Your Voice

Fears/Phobias

1. Spiders



2. Heights



3. Clowns



4. Botox



5. Crowds

Peanut Butter and Honey...

When my dad was little, they used to buy honey in solid form. My grandmother stored it in a screw-top jar, and would put it in a pot of water on the stove to melt it. (Much like they used to do with baby bottles.)

One day my Aunt Pat, my dad's older sister, made lunch for herself and her brother. Peanut butter and honey. She grabbed the melted jar of honey and made two delicious sandwiches. She put one on a plate, and went to hand it to my dad. The honey dripped out of the sandwich and down the plate. Pat used her finger to wipe up the drip and licked it off.

What she thought was the jar of honey was actually the jar of bacon grease that was stored in a similar screw-top container.

My grandmother had been ironing nearby, and watched everything without saying a word. She just laughed.

A Mismatch of Events...

So last night around 11pm, I'm lying in bed with my Shihpoo, Maggie. We're in the dark, but I'm on my cell phone just checking facebook for the 145,785 time when Maggie makes a little noise. I think it was just a yawn or something cute, so I turn the light of my phone towards her... only to spot a big white spider crawling up my pillow towards my face!! ACK! I made a very girly shriek and batted it away. Then of course I jump up and use my cell-flashlight to try to find the little... spider. Ahem. Luckily what I found was it's mushed little body that I disposed of with a kleenex. Shudder. I absolutely have arachnophobia, so I'm proud of myself for getting rid of him instead of calling for someone to do it for me. This is one major reason I need a man in my life. I need a full-time hero/exterminator. I don't do bugs. Especially spiders. Icky.

Across town in the summer, there was a 3-legged coyote that was snatching small dogs and cats. Well he must have gotten its fill from over there and moved on... because he's been spotted on my street. I live on a dead end with a field and forest at the end, and apparently he's hiding out somewhere in there. Maggie has been on house arrest since I found out. This morning, there were two cop cars in front of my house. We figured that someone called them because of Tripod the Coyote. Our neighbourhood watch leaders have been posting signs in the area to warn everyone. But no, we were wrong. Instead we watched the cops take my next-door neigbours son into the squad car and drive him away. Awesome. This is not the first time this has happened either. But at least this time there were only two cars and not six like before.

I got my stitches out today! One more milestone closer to being healed. I'm only celebrating now, though. At the time, it was incredibly stressful. The nurse I dealt with today is one of three that I see for my antibiotics and wound dressings. She is the oldest, and the least friendly. It's not that she's antisocial, I just think she feels like she's under pressure and rushed, so she's always very stressed. If I try to make conversation, I get one-word answers in return. But whatever. It's not as though I need this woman to like me or even that I have to like her. I only see her for 20 minutes a day. However, it became a whole new story when she went to take my stitches out.

Her hands were shaking. And I mean shaking. And she is coming at me with a giant pair of tweezers and a very sharp stitch cutter. I couldn't hold my tongue. I told her straight up that her shaking hands were making me nervous. She was not impressed. She said she has arthritis and that her hands shake when she does intricate stuff like this. And all I could think was... so maybe you shouldn't be doing it? I wanted to ask for someone else to take over. But I'm too nice, and I felt badly, and I didn't want to be rude. Even though this is my wrist we're dealing with. So I decided to let her go ahead, and just couldn't watch. While I had my head turned and my eyes shut tight, she explained everything she was doing in detail and was friendly and calm and almost sweet. And she didn't maim me. Always a plus. Now I can't help but think now that I should have asked for someone else and not risked it. The potential for harm was too close for comfort.

So that has been my night/day so far. Now I'm going to go check my room for spiders (but not too carefully, in case I find one).

Well Hello...

Hello Blog World!

I've started this blog as simply a way to entertain others and to release some of my pent-up energy and my desire to write down everything that pops into my head. I hope you enjoy.

So let's do a basic recap of my story thus far:

I'm 24, single, regrettably living with my parents (more on that to come), avid dog lover, book reader, Grey's Anatomy junkie, and a very very accident prone individual

Why "Miss Bubble Wrap"? This title comes from constant jokes from family and friends that I should be wrapped in bubble wrap to keep me from getting injured. I'm not going to lie, they have a point. I swear accidents find me. I've had concussions, stitches, bruised bones, scrapes, cuts, black eyes, sprains, pulled muscles, and weird allergic reactions to random things.

My latest incident is one that I've had to tell so many times in the past few months, I can't bring myself to explain it all out now. Here's the short short version... Customer at work dropped lumber on me; I had surgery on my wrist in November. Beginning of January, I got a septic infection (google it) which lead to two surgeries. After my second surgery, I had flash pulmonary edema (google that too). So, two near death experiences, clearly and thankfully I survived both. Now I am home, still have stitches which come out tomorrow, and a PICC line (do I need to say it? google is your friend) for 24/7 antibiotics. Have very little strength in my wrist still. I should add that this is my right wrist. And yes, I'm right-handed. That's my incident. Phew.

So I mentioned something about living with my parents. I cringe as I write that. Don't get me wrong, my parents can be pretty cool. My mom and I are super tight, and my dad and I... well we don't have screaming fights like we did when I was a teen. But I'm well aware that I am 24 and it's time to get out. So as soon as I have my wrist back in order and can work again and have a steady income, I am outta here. I have an awesome friend who has said that she would like to live with me, and she's in a position right now where she will wait for me (like I said, awesome). I am hoping that this will be sooner than later. Because it's time. Really really time.

So how's that for a first post? Do you feel like we've been sufficiently aquainted? That's all I have for now. Until next time!