Saturday, March 28, 2009

Wow.

For many reasons.

Firstly, THANK YOU everyone SO VERY MUCH for all the well wishes. They worked! I am feeling tons better this weekend...still taking it easy, but starting to eat more than soup and smoothies, and just overall feeling like an almost-normal version of myself.

Secondly, the new camera came while I was in hospital and I played with it a bit yesterday. Hello learning curve! Whoooooooo...but, when I get my SLR legs back, I know I'm going to love this thing.

Thirdly, SPRING IS HERE. Like, in an obvious way. Proof:



Romping animals. Notice there is one dog digging, another rolling about and chickens just plain chickening all over the place, pecking at dirt! and dead vegetation! (read: stuff that ISN'T COVERED IN SNOW).

And there's been some of this;


And this guy:



It went like this:
(on phone, Me in the hospital bed, C on the phone at home)
Me:
Will he talk to me?
C: I don't know...let me check...(to little guy) Do you want to talk to Mama? (can be heard in background: Where is she?) She's still at the doctor's...want to talk to her? (little guy: No.) He doesn't want to talk on the phone. (little guy to C: Are there toys at the hospital?) I don't know...Shannon, are there toys at the hospital?
Me: Why don't you have him ask me?
C: Why don't you ask Mama that? (there is a pause. and some shuffling about)
LG: (reluctantly) OK. (a pause) Mama, are there toys at the hospital?
Me: No, sweet pea. Are yo- (stops herself as she realizes phone has been dropped. breathes long sigh.)

But he was very glad to see me when I got home. Really.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Home again, home again.

I cannot imagine how anyone can actually heal in a hospital.
I felt helpless and hopeless and totally alone, even though the whole place was teeming like some giant antfarm with people in all manner of uniforms.

And don't even get me started on how uncomfortable the bed is.

I read The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and it helped me not feel so damn sorry for myself.

I went in early Tuesday morning...I had been experiencing pain in my stomach since Saturday night that grew increasingly worse and increasingly localized to my right lower abdomen. I held off going as long as I could, but Monday night was sleepless from pain, so emergency is where I ended up.

They poked and prodded, stuck an IV in me, than later some blood. Said it was likely I had appendicitis, but that my white blood count was low and so they need to do more tests.

That's all I knew until someone came in with three bottles of this hideous white, radioactive liquid and told me to drink it all up, yum yum. It took every ounce of will I possessed and some I didn't even know I possessed to keep it all down, but I did it. I was proud of myself, even. Reading my book, trying to forget what I'd read about the ingredients on the bottle. When it was noticed that I'd finished, I was whisked away to a room with a big, scary-looking machine...then came the barium enema (even writing the gory details would make me puke right now) and some weird shit into my IV drip that made my legs hot and my mouth taste metallic. Fucking thought I was in some sort of alien ship being experimented on. It was loud and I cried and cried and they told me to stop breathing and then to breathe and I wanted to scream but I couldn't.

I was wheeled into a new room a little bit later and within the hour I started losing all that white stuff I drank in unimaginably humiliating ways. This is when the helplessness really sunk in...I couldn't make it to the bathroom...I was covered in the stuff, it was all over the floor and all over my gown, but my IV was tangled up in everything and so I had to push the button. They had to move me to a different room where it happened all over again and again and I felt somehow like I had to apologize even though I didn't drink the stuff by choice.

They said, yes indeed, you have appendicitis, we're calling the surgeon. Yippee. Get the mother out of me and let go HOME.

Surgeon comes in sometime later...I can stay in my bed long enough to listen to him before I run back into the bathroom, dragging my pole full of baggies. I wonder why they keep asking me if I want pain killers. How the fuck am I supposed to tell you how I feel if I can't feel anything? Maddening. Anyway, surgeon says he's not 100% sure it's appendicitis anymore, now that he's looked at the scan and how about he go look at it again with another radiologist. More waiting.

Nope. He's not convinced. How about I stay the night with things dripping into me and we'll do some other kinds of tests for other things in the morning? Either that, or he cuts into me now and takes out anything that looks funny. Including pieces of my intestines if he has to. No thanks, I'll stay here.

IV has been flopping around too much. I can't hold a book with the hand on that arm. A nice lady comes and readjusts it for me and then I can at least try to sleep. Doesn't happen. Too much light and sound...and coming in to check my vitals. I want to scream I'M NOT DYING, JUST LET ME GO TO SLEEP! I can lay in bed now for a long time without having to go you-know-where. The synthetic foam mattress makes me sweat, but if I take the blankets off I shiver and shake. I have a fever. I want my mommy. And my husband. And my little guy, who is sleeping peacefully, snug and warm.

The night is long. I'm alone for long stretches and it makes me feel like a baby. I want to cry out. I want to feel like somebody cares about more than my beeping machine. Someone comes to take some more blood, notes how the last person really "bruised me up good" and too bad that's my only vein. Yup. Only one I've got.

In the morning they bring me coffee. I have not eaten in 36 hours, nor do I drink coffee. I can't imagine that is good for anyone who had only water for a day and a half. Acid reflux anyone?. Surgeon comes in, says maybe ovarian cyst has ruptured. I get an x-ray, come back upstairs, start my period, get a pelvic ultrasound, come back upstairs. The pain is so much less, surgeon is glad of that, but he doesn't think it has anything to do with the antibiotics. I'm certainly glad I could give him an accurate report since I didn't take any pain killers. He says maybe viral infection. He says I'm "mysterious." Later, when he's looked at those other tests he says there is nothing conclusive. He is worried about the inflammation but that none of my symptoms fit together to form a complete picture. But there is also no reason for keeping me there. Heavens be praised!

He does, however, say that I need to come back in two weeks for one of those scans. I will tell the whole world right now that I will never drink that white stuff again. Surgeon says we'll just do the test to be sure nothing's there. The stuff didn't get far enough down the first time we took it and he'd like to see that area in more detail. Well, gee, didn't it say on the bottle to wait an hour but instead they wheeled me right down, isn't that what happened? Why do I know more about that shit I drank than they do? I decide I am getting well and no way will I drink that stuff again. Surgeon says don't worry, you won't need the enema. Least of my worries, pal.

I wait a while longer for my release. Nurse fails to bring me tea. Other nurse brings tea an hour later then fails to bring me a hot water bottle. Tea-forgetting nurse comes with release papers. Whew!

Husband comes with clothing. All I want to do is stand up. It is the only thing that sounds at all comfortable and they won't let me do it. They wheel me out and it's so...Victorian or something. Oh, well. I have regular clothes on and have not been cut into. There is homemade chicken broth on the stove because my husband is amazing and wonderful and wished he could do more than that. But it is the best thing I've ever heard of.

I am home. I eat a little bit of rice now and then and sip miso. People are taking care of me. I am tired and weak and shaky and sore, but people are taking care of me. I am thankful, so thankful that I didn't have to spend more time there, that the surgeon looked twice at my scan, that they didn't send me home with a prescription. So thankful. Not knowing what is wrong but going home to my family is about a thousand times better than trying to be comfortable in that freezing cold, sterile room where I need to remember to pee in the little bowl, where my requests are forgotten because there a people there who need help so much more than I do.

I'm feeling better. I will continue to, and that is nice to know.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Stitches

Hey all!

Several of us indie spinners are applying for a booth together at Stitches East...the event runs October 22-25 in Hartford, CT.
So far, we are:
myself, The Spun Monkey
Holly, Misshawklet
Stephanie, Rivulette
Dayna, The Crafty Scientist

We are looking for two more fiber artists to join our group. Interested folks should respond to this post or 's ASAP. You need to be willing to commit to be present and work the booth during the duration of the event. This is not an invitation to send your stuff...we need the artists participating to be there to help out. Dayna has offered couches, beds, floors...should be a great time! Of course, it won't all be work...we can take shifts and have plenty of time to enjoy ourselves during event hours. Individual booth fees will be minimal split six ways. There is great potential here for big sales and tons of exposure for your wares.

If you're game, let us know!

Saturday, March 21, 2009

March 21st, 2009

Had a delightful time celebrating the first day of Spring with a little egg-dyeing mayhem and used the leftovers on some wool. Waste not!
It's lovely but I just now realize that, even though it's a bit after noon, the temp is not yet above freezing and so likely said wool is icing up in the breeze rather than drying in it. A cruel little Spring joke that I don't find particularly funny.

Keeping warm on this chilly day by dismantling a rag rug full of amazing colors of fabric strips...still no camera, but it's on the way and soon I'll share the results of their whirl through the wheel.

Body is ready for a run or a swim or...something. Spring may not be warming the Vermont air, but I sure do feel it in my bones and muscles, ready to explode from the cabin fever of the last few months.

C is going on an expedition to the other coast in a couple weeks...(E, can we come and play in B-town before/after??!?)...figure we'll make our move a little less blindly than moves past. Even though we're going back to a familiar place, there is this little matter of finding work and actually seeing the place we're moving into before we actually get there.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

May 19, 2009

The Little Guy and I...we stand alone in wellness, looking down over the wreckage that turned our home into The Vomitorium. We've pounded the probiotics, the honey-lemon and elderflower teas, smoothies of homemade yogurt and summer berries. We step over the casualties...3/4 of the household brought down, and we are ready for them to all feel better so we can have normal meals again, use the bathroom whenever we want, and in my case, to get some work done again.

I still have not ordered my camera. The whole wheel thing really has made me nervous about investing in any moderately expensive piece of equipment for my business. I can find the Xsi for $600 or $219 depending on the website. My gut says go for the reputable biz that I've trusted for photography equipment forever and pay the higher price, rather than take my chances with a place that is obviously selling it for less than cost or perhaps it's just a knock-off???? Ugh. I really should look into whether or not there's a place in Bratt I can go to buy locally if I'm just going to pay full price anyway. I excel at making things a lot harder than they need to be.

In other news, there are several things I'm prepping for:
Twist Fair, May 1 and 2, Northampton, MA
Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival, May 2 and 3, West Friendship, MD (sending my stuff down with the Cloverhill Yarn Shop...I won't be there myself)
Still on the fence about applying to the BUST Spring Fling Craftacular and Art Star in Philly. If I don't apply to BUST I'll be doing a local fiber fest that weekend in Jamaica, VT. I'm just worried about putting too much on my plate right before moving.
Anyone do the Spring Fling last year? Any thoughts? I did the BUST Holiday Craftacular the first year of the event, but haven't applied to any of their events since. It's kind of a long haul to a very unfamiliar place for me, but now I have some family in that area so it could be a fun trip on the train.

And then there's filling up consignment/wholesale accounts...I want to have everyone taken care of before I take a month or so off during the move.

Speaking of, we are now in the planning stages, trying to figure out how the heck we're going to get ourselves and our stuff 3000 miles west. The way we did it last time was ridiculously expensive...we're hoping to find some info about train cars but research is less than fruitful. Anyone have a transporter we can borrow? Preferably one that won't bring us to the other side as insects, please.

Oh, and it's snowing today.
Happy Thursday!

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Bullets...

* I wonder how much of the night sky we'll be able to see through the fog and light pollution reflecting off the ocean. I'm making an effort to get out for an evening walk every clear-sky night...up here on the snowy mountain I can see the whole universe...even if it's dark up on the new mountain, it will never be like my sparkling New England sky.

* The other day, the Little Guy was overhead explaining to "Jack Frost" all the myriad reasons why one shouldn't eat poop.

* I can't believe I haven't ordered my camera yet...the fear of regretting my decision is holding me back. After the Mach 1 debacle, I don't want to make the wrong investment.

* Speaking of the Mach 1, and to those of you who wrote me to request a review...it is coming. There are still some unresolved issues that should be buttoned up this week (she says hopefully)...I haven't forgotten.

*New work is piling up...I am loathe to let it go without photographing it, but I might have to...

* Speaking of work...felting has also been on the list of Things I Cannot Do Right Now and It's Utterly Destroying My Soul. There just isn't a space in the house we're sharing right now that is large enough, can get wet, and is away from cats, dogs and babies. I'm hoping the salvage place still has this AMAZING oak table...it could change everything.

* Happy Tuesday, everyone.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Homeward Bound

Sleeting, slushy snow today.

I knew the Subie wouldn't make it through the deep ruts that formed over the last several days of thaw, and so I set off on foot for the post office...uphill, downhill, uphill again...through that sleeting, slushy snow.

For a moment, I wished I'd had my camera, forgetting how sadly broken it is, but then scratched the thought. This was a walk I wanted etched in my memory. I breathed deeply, enjoyed the task of warming my body through movement whilst icy bits of snow blew against my face. I listened to the crunch, crunch under my boots and stopped every once in a while, with eyes closed, to absorb the quiet...only the sound of the snow falling...firm little pellets pitter pattering like a gentle rain on a roof.

Eventually, I came to the spot in the road where yesterday a kind soul with a Very Big Chain pulled car and I out of the muck we'd bottomed out in. It was squishy squoshy chocolate-y mud then...now the layering snow had crusted it up, producing an Arctic, Post-Apocalyptic landscape of deep, snow-crunchy ruts that looked like cracks in the earth. So, so still and quiet, but for the swirling sleet, coating my glasses and melting on my wooly hat.

A little over a mile to the post office...greeted with a familiar smile and some friendly conversation...with a pang, I felt how much I will miss that simple ritual. I will even miss the chilly walk back, having been soaked all through from thawing out at the PO.

And I will miss the Winter. The deep, the dark, the biting cold, the frozen landscape, the intense appreciation I feel when the whole of my world turns green and sparkles with life when the Spring finally springs.

Two more months until I say goodbye to New England. I will leave a piece of my heart here, good friends, and some of the most difficult challenges of my life. I will take with me some beautiful memories and a whole lot of hope for starting over in the homeland.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Twist 2.0

I'm IN!

Hurrah!

I was super-nervous about it, but the good word came and now I'm jazzed to have a funnel for some focused work...nice venue, fun town, two days...wheeee!

Who else is coming to play? Share a hotel room?