When I am an Old Woman I will no longer worry...

I am beginning to think that this is what I will look like by the time we make it to October. I am worrying myself old! And not in the good or wise or well earned old way. I am just becoming pessimistic and cranky. Just ask my husband!

I was doing really well with all of this stuff up until about yesterday. My patience had been wearing just a tad thin. I found myself happily playing along with the Hubbs' "Ahw babe I'm so tired give me ten more minutes" routine one second and twenty minutes later seething with resentment that I was trying to wake him AGAIN. I am finding myself at shorter and shorter ropes with nebulous time lines and ambiguous deadlines. This is certainly not the Hubbs' fault. Not all of it anyway. Yes, he could decide that my sanity is a teeny bit more of a priority and just suck it up and wake up when he says he's going to. I KNOW how exhausting the half sleep of duty is. Sorry babe but I don't care. I am out there doing it too and I feel it in my bones too. The shitty part is that there is no one to take up the slack for either of us when it comes to shit getting packed, sorted, cleaned. It is either you or it is me. Every day you say you are going to get up and get something done and then decide to sleep in feels like you are saying "Meh, it's not that important after all. Someone else will do it." It's like pouring gasoline on my already, nearly constantly smouldering fire of overwhelmedness and exhaustion. I know but cannot fully comprehend the stress of being the financial 'only' right now. I am sure it puts it's own gut knotting stress on top of the oh, so relaxing act of moving and wedding planning. I KNOW....the thing is that I am drowning. I see all of the shit that needs to be done and all of the shit that is past due. I am tired of being the one who is "on top" of everything, the one who makes sure that things keep rolling. I want help. UNCLE. As sweet as the little sis is I don't want her help I want HIS help. I want to be important enough to him to inspire him to overcome his aversion to taking part of the helm when things get shitty and confusing. I don't love that we have fallen into the habit of me being the only list maker and timeline writer. I want more partnership than that. I want him to get engaged in "making it happen". If he is reading this he is upset with me by now. He is thinking that I am being demanding and overbearing and that I don't get what it is like in his head at ALL! He's right. I don't. Partly because he doesn't tell me. I think he doesn't tell me because he doesn't want to worry me and he is right. It worries me to no end when he tells me all of the things he is afraid of and I am shitty at listening to it.

I think this is my "Wife Work" right now. Just what I needed right? More homework! But this is important shit right here. This is THE stuff our lives together depends upon me mastering. I need to listen without absorbing the awfulness of worry. I have enough worry for both of us and I can learn to just hear his concerns without internalizing it all. I am not entirely sure how I will do this but I think that's what the next fifty years are for. I hope it doesn't take all fifty.

Anyway, the other side of all of this is how well I have been doing. I made it well past a month before losing my shit and then really only lost it after getting the crap news that we no longer had a solid closing date. I feel more and more committed to my life with G and here in the city. I am feeling more and more excited about joining the ranks of the midnight superheros who stand watch so everyone might sleep. I am struggling more days than not right now. I mean really struggling. I miss my folks and I miss summers on the boats and everything seemed simpler. It is hard to keep my forward momentum in the relative moments of day to day. In spite of all of that I have a more absolute sense of peace on it's way. My dear friend S pointed out to me yesterday that I only have to survive 63 more days and then it is all done. I will look around and see my lovely little house, my diploma on the wall, the wedding flowers drying in the window and my warm, wonderful, infinitely supportive husband by my side. I will work hard right up to the end and I will get to look back and feel pride in my efforts and joy, knowing all of this bullshit and indigestion was worth it. In the mean time....I need to keep my mouth shut, practice taking deep cleansing breaths, work hard at interning, eat well, run often and further and further and kiss my Hubbs. We will work out the partnership divide when the dust settles and we can talk without such high risk of hurt feelings. We will take our notes from this war and craft a better battle plan for the next such challenge....Yesterday as I sat at the table crying into a box of packed up dry goods I begged for a promise...."Promise me we will never try to do everything all at once, ever again?!"...He said "Yes honey, next time someone is trying to finish school and we are having a housing transition I am sure we will only have one or two kids and you'll just be pregnant so, yeah, that will be way easier..." He has a point. While I hope to not repeat this cycle of intensity often if ever again, life does not slow down much from here on...at least not for a while. Not until my hair is the color of that woman's and my eyes as wise as hers....like I said, that is what the next fifty years are for.

The all you can eat (way more than you want) buffett of life

Name that city.....

If you said Denver Colorado you'd be right! Now why, you may ask, have I posted a picture of Denver? Well its a math problem. I sat down yesterday to figure out when I would be done with my internship hours and thus, when I could take my national registry exam and to my horror I will be taking it to the last few weeks before the wedding. If I manage to get all of my calls in I could be done before September 5th. This means that sometime before Sept 5th I will be able to take my director's oral where I sit down with my medical director and he tests me on drugs and patient care and likely a few critical scenarios. Once that is done I get to go to the testing center and take my computer based written exam. As soon as THAT is done I can take my practical. This is the exam where you suspend common sense and logic and show the NREMT that you know how to read and memorize their often ass backwards way of doing something. It has very little correlation to how things are done on scene, in the back of the car or at the hospital but whatever, they write the test and I have to pass it to become a medic so I will learn to walk on water if they want me to.

You're still wondering what the hell this all has to do with Denver. Well, here it is. There are only so many practical exams offered every year. They are offered all over the nation. Oregon is in the fall. The late fall. I don't have time to wait until the late fall to try to get a job or to let the information atrophy in my mind. California is a favorite. Folks find a car pool buddy and a cheep hotel and hop on down to Cali to test all the time. Maine even has one in Bangor. I could shuck out the 5oo.00 to fly home and then there is no rental car, no hotel, just hanging out with my mom. The problem is the date of the test. California is all at the end of August and likely, before I will be done with everything. Maine is on graduation weekend and I can't really miss my own graduation. So, Colorado is testing in the beginning of September. They are testing 5 days before the wedding. FUUUUUUUHHHHHHCK! It appears to be my best and really only option. The flight is pretty cheep, I found a cheep hotel and a decent rental car. All together with the testing fee it would be somewhere in the 800.00 range. That beats the pants off of the 1200.00 range for California.

The Hubbs and I have done a lot of talking about the wisdom of testing 5 days before the wedding and it is what it is. In the grand scheme, I need a job. The wedding will be wonderful and I will learn to let go. I have worked too hard and too long to not take 100% crystal clear focus to my exam. I will just have to deal with the rest when I get home. I think my mother is going to want to kill me but it is what it is. It is time to test and time to apply for a job.

G was helping me talk through the logic and look critically at the options last night and he said, "I just want to make sure its not too much all at once." I laughed out loud. "Of course its too much!" I said. "This whole thing is too much. Trying to plan a wedding while in school is too much. Doing it while trying to buy a house is too much. Trying to move, pull off a wedding, intern and prep for the exam is ALL too much. THIS WHOLE COURT IS OUT OF ORDER!". We had a good laugh and he said "You're right this is insane. I just want you to have your head wrapped around it the best you can so that you have the best shot possible". Ladies and gentlemen, my husband. The very best guy you could ever hope to have at your side in a shit storm. I think I'll keep him.

Tachycardia

We are 79 days from wedding day and I must admit I have a lot of mixed emotions. I am very excited to celebrate my partnership to G in front of our family and friends. I can't wait to wear my dress. I can't wait to see our friends from far and wide as well as those who live right down the street. I CANNOT wait to see my brother and my parents. However, had we known we would be buying a house and all of this nonsense mere weeks before the wedding I think we likely would have opted for a wedding in G's folks backyard followed by a camping trip to the coast or something like that with our buddies. And, with guilt in my heart I must admit that right now that sounds like a lot less work.

The truth is that I feel married to the Hubbs. I feel like we have forged the first of our bonds in the fire of this past year. It sounds all cliche' but it has been a hell of a year. We have moved in 4 days and lost another house, we have (very much together) put me through a fast paced year of medic school and done it all on less than 2 full paychecks. We have dealt with lots of challenges and come out (as I see it) on top every time. We are like a cat who seems to land on its feet.

Wedding wedding wedding....It all seemed like such a good idea at the time. We were happy where we are and with all of the things we had. We have asked for money to help send us on a trip to Africa with Project Helping Hands as "honeymoon mission". NOW we are looking at all the stuff we need for this new house. I am not talking about candle sticks and crock pots or fancy linens and crystal. No, I am talking about a door that fits the back doorway properly, a deep freeze for the basement so we can buy locally raised antibiotic and hormone free meat in bulk and at a budget saving cost, shelving for the basement. I am talking about frames for the artwork we have recently acquired so that we don't start in this house with the same college kid feel as our houses before. It is all very materialistic but they are things that would make starting out in this house so wonderful. Anyway, that is where I stand in my poverty mind swirling with wants and "needs".

I must give a thank you to the mother in law, without whom I would have significantly more anxiety about just about everything from school loans to commitment. I will preface this by saying that my mom is one of my very best friends and she is number one in my book of bad ass, smart, wonderful women. That said, the mom2 is a total gift in my life. She is a friend in the same time zone when I need one. She is a total insomniac so she is my late night life line occasionally. She has a wicked sense of humor and she seems to "get" me. She certainly loves her son but on some fundamental level I think she must see something of herself in me. She seems to get the person I am trying to become as well as the person I am right now. She seems to understand that occasionally I need to share difficult things and I just need an ear not a remedy and I don't want to worry my mom so far away. Also, she is married. She has been married to the same wonderful, funny and stubborn man for over 30 years and shows no sign of changing that. My parents were married for 32 years and for 95% of that time I saw a happy, compatible partnership. My parents did not fight, nor did they speak disparagingly of one another ever. I had a true friendship as my model for what a partnership should look like. My parents divorced and I think I have said before that I think it has all shaken out for the best. I think they are more truly themselves now and I am happy and proud of them both in their own ways. I think I win twice because I saw a healthy marriage model as a child and then saw two people self actuate as "grown-ups". That said, my mother is no longer married to a man and there is "stuff" around all of that. This makes her not the absolute best person to talk about weathering the storms of a life long marriage. Not for lack of wanting to be that person....she just has some opinions now that I can't totally access on this end (the new end) of a partnership and adult life. It does make her a very open person to talk to about shedding the weight of the "musts" and "shoulds" and for that I can't begin to thank her. Anyway, the mom2 and I see eye to eye on so many things and that brings such a light to my heart I am tearing up now as I write about it. Talking to her today was really great.

Internship:

Wow! First let me say that I haven't even done anything cool yet but I LOVE being on the ambulance and running calls! I am starting to get pretty good at starting IVs in the back as we trundle down the road at a bumpy 40-60mph. I have spent the last two weeks running generic rather crap calls. We had 2 trauma entries but nothing even all that grand about either of them. The take home message is DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE MORONS!! Next week I will be working with a medic who is known to be intense and a little "particular" about the way things are done. Ed, my preceptor now, is a pretty laid back guy. He is a good teacher and since we haven't seen anyone who requires ANY sort of medical knowledge to care for it has been a little hard for him to challenge me. R.C will challenge me no matter what. I have already started reviewing protocols and medication doses so I can be ready to be "pimped" (put on the spot with questions).

There is something cool about riding around all night keeping watch on the city. It feels a little like a band of secret superheros. I know that sounds super geeky but I can't help it. No one thinks about it but at any time of day or night there is an ambulance not more than about 8mins away from where you are ready to help you if you get ill or hurt. We will come to your house, check your diabetic husband's sugar and put a line in, give him an amp of dextrose, wait until he is conscious again and making sense, then we will make him a turkey sandwich or maybe PB&J, check his sugar again and when we are satisfied that everything is OK, we will pack up our stuff, shake your hand, pat your husband on the back and tell him to finish the whole sandwich before going back to sleep, and we will leave....back out into the predawn darkness....back to our street corner. It is not a glamorous world. It is full of dirty corners and dirtier houses. It is full of people who want to hurt one another or themselves. It is full of sickness and death and bullshit. But it is a noble profession. I never would have thought I would be joining the ranks of these superheroes but here I am. They won't give me my own cape or even a good superhero name for a few more months but I am here, learning. Helping the watch standers and watching over the city.

So that is about the gist of things right now. I have been writing to my best friend who shall be henceforth known as "the captain". I have been trying to put together weekly house/wedding/school updates for her. It has been helpful for my processing. I find sometimes (like today) I just feel totally socked in by worry. I worry about everything but mostly money. I hate not getting a paycheck right now. I hate having to rely to heavily on the Mr. Its not really my style. However, it is my reality. I suppose I shall just keep my snoot down as the Mr likes to say, and work hard, try not to kill anyone and get the house packed up. That is the best I can do so off I go....

And The World Spins Madly On....

The Hubbs and I escaped to the woods a little over a week ago for a little camping trip with friends before my internship started. We packed (waaaaaaay too much shit into) the Jeep and tossed the dogs in on top and headed out of the rainy blah on this side of the mountains, to the sunshine and PERFECT weather on the other side. We spent the first night setting up camp and gathering wood and oh yeah, seeing a black bear and cub trying to cross the street! Eeep! It was a sight I won't soon forget. The momma came lumbering down out of the woods and saw us, turned tail and headed back up the embankment. Seconds later a 5oish lb cub comes tumbling down into the road, sees us, sees that his momma is already splitting in the other direction and follows her. G and I looked at each other and were dumb struck. "Duuhh, I thought you said there were no bear out here?". "Duuuh, I didn't think there were any." Thank you Steve Irwin!

We had a wonderful time with our friends G and C. They are recently engaged and planning a wedding for fall 2011. C is my kind of girlfriend. She is a little off beat and has a sly sense of humor. She and I fall just about equally on the apathy control freak scale of wedding planning which for me lately, has been just apathetic of center. Anyway, we both fret (very small scale) about things like our dresses and the food. She too is going the simple inexpensive dress route but still, like me wishes on some level to feel more beautiful than on any day of her life so far. I feel that! I am not even squeamish about it anymore. I love G and I am pumped to marry him! I want to look smokin' hot! Or AT LEAST feel really, really pretty.

On Thursday, G and I ran around the lake we were camped by (13 miles of trails!). It was a fun and staggeringly beautiful run. My shins couldn't even complain with the soft spongy trail beneath my feet. We took the young dog who did a great job on and off leash in the woods. I love taking her to the woods to run. It just makes her so happy.

On Friday, our other friends showed up expanding our merry little camp to 5 people and 3 dogs. It took a little time for the freak dogs to all settle down but soon it was a peaceable kingdom and the people were roasting sausages and drinking beer. It was so much fun. The next day I went for an accidental 9 mile run. I miscalculated my distances and my planned 6miler turned into a 9 miler. I did it. I just wondered why I was so dammed hungry. :)

The next few days were filled with failed attempts to fish, canoeing adventures, hikes to lost lakes, watching the dogs tear around by the shore some swimming and others doing everything in their power to "get" the other dog without having to get more than ankle deep. Every night was the same....The old dog would lay down on her bed facing the road on guard duty, the young dog would get very cold and end up either zipped into my jacket on her bed like a sleeping bag, or under a pile of towels and blankets like a living laundry pile. It was stinkin' cute.

On Monday everyone was packing up when The Hubbs received a text from his sis who requested he call as soon as he could. Lilsis does not generally call or text while we are away as she is freakishly respectful of our time together. (I know I said "freakishly" but I mean it in the most awestruck "nobody is as respectful of our time together as she is and we absolutely adore her for it" way). Needless to say he called her back as soon as he got the text. She informed us that we were going to have to move. AGAIN! Because our house was going to be put on the market. I say again, because we have only been in this house since November. We moved because the woman who owned our last place decided to move into it. We have not been here that long but I had imagined we would be here for a long time. I don't know why. We only signed a 9 month lease because she didn't want to end up with an empty house in the winter again...I just didn't think that it would mean we would have to move in the summer.

Anyway, I was mere nanoseconds from freaking out and spontaneously combusting when it occurred to me that I had a choice. I could freak out and cry and be generally miserable for an as yet to be determined period of time, or I could just chill my shit for five seconds, take some deep breaths, admit to myself that the last thing in the WORLD I wanted to do right now was find a new place to live, pack up all of our shit again and settle into a new house, and then I could realize how stressful this was going to be for my partner and best friend and I could rally a positive outlook and start brainstorming ways that this could be OK and good even. I could be a positive force and not just momentum. I could help him feel heard and seen and understood. I could do less freaking out and needing and more standing behind and supporting. Less MY way and more OUR way.

I am under no illusions that I am an easy woman to be married to. I am especially aware that this year sort of blows in sense that while we are trying to plan a wedding, settle into married life, and continue getting to know one another I went to paramedic school. I have been a giant money hole this year. I have been a huge financial burden and he has not said one word about it. He doesn't bitch or complain or point out that he is the money of this operation. He just holds up his end of the deal. ALL OF THE TIME! He does it so well and with no hint of resentment of the imbalance that I feel so strongly having never been the dependant in a relationship before. Anyway, I felt like the least I could do now would be to make a real effort to be an emotionally stable and even giving and supportive influence. I wanted to put his soul and heart in the black instead of the red this time.

We drove home from the mountains that afternoon, scrapping our plans for the second half of our vacation which included a trip to Bend and the High Desert Museum and a dinner date with a dear friend who just graduated from university. We felt like we had been punched in the gut. My wheels were spinning. Was there some way, any way that we could pool collective resources and *whispers* buy a house? That way, we would NEVER find ourselves in this shitty place again. We would never be at someone else's whim for a place to live. We could stop lighting hundreds of dollars on fire every month. The place would be ours to paint, ours to decorate, ours to repair and remodel. It would be OURS. The question remained...how would we put this all together? Could we do all of this in about 45 days? The wedding was in 90 days and we had a lot of people planning on staying with us for parts of the wedding weeks. I was also starting my internship (the work I am PAYING to do) 7p-7a four on four off for the next few months. What a cluster F%$#!

We called our moms. Yay moms! Over the next 4 hours (no joke people! 4 hours and these folks had it figured out!) Our families (all 3 of them) had lent support in various ways to make it possible for us to call a real estate agent and set up an appointment to look at houses two days later. And BAM! Just like that we were on our way to home owning.

Over the next few days we looked at a LOT of houses ourselves. We drove around peering in windows like a couple of perverts. We wrote down MLS numbers and emailed links to the parents. We wrote things of and underlined must-haves. When we finally met with Gail (the most amazing woman ever!) we had 7 houses to look at. This one was small, that one was a dump, this one had a horrible smell, that one a wet basement, this one was too much money, that one just wasn't "us". And then we stopped at Commercial St. A sweet little craftsman bungalow with a finished upstairs, a dry basement, a chicken coop and hardwood floors. (Sorry no pictures until it is ours for good. I am just superstitious) It was lovely and perfect and I wanted to move into it right now. I even like the color of paint on the walls. G agreed and so did Lilsis. We loved it. Gail told us to go home and talk about the houses we saw that day and to sleep on it.

We went home and decided to meet a buddy for a happy hour beer. A little while later we called Gail and asked to make an offer the next day. It was too good to pass up. It was in our price range, it was in our neighborhood area of choice, it was cute as shit! She agreed to meet us the next day to sign offer papers. We got drunk. I think there was even a shot of tequila from our buddy.

We met Gail at the house the next day and toured it and then another house in the same price range. The second house looked like the set of a horror movie. It smelled, it had frightening siding, the trim and floors were a total mess, there was tile and carpet in one of the upstairs bedrooms and the basement was horrifying. I wanted to cry. "OK, Uncle! We will make a competitive offer! The house is a good value! I can't see anymore!" Gail laughed at me. We signed the offer and she turned it in.

They countered and we countered their offer. We agreed on an offer that weekend, 5 days after receiving the letter from our current landlord. Two days later we met the inspector who found nothing majorly wrong with the house. Tomorrow the sewer will be scoped and the radon testing will happen. We will be back to negotiations by Monday or Tuesday. We want them to put in a new back door (one the mice can't get in through) and secure the electrical wires to the house. Minor things really. Fingers are crossed that the sewer doesn't have roots in it!

The Hubbs struggled a little getting in gear with all of this but as of today we have thrown out and recycled about three bins of shit we moved and never unpacked the FIRST time we moved together. We were packing and talking last night and he brought up something really interesting. As a culture, we associate much of our identity with place. Who we are is very closely linked to where we are from and where we live. Moving is a very unnerving process and lends itself to clinging behavior. Especially in our unattached youth. When you are leaving your parents or packing up at the end of university, you hold dear to every stuffed animal and ticket stub from every concert you saw with your buddies as a way to cement that you have a place. A way to be solid in such a groundless time as moving. Even as G and I moved into this house, there was so much uncertainty. It was mostly good but it wasn't any less unsettling to find ourselves moving. This time, the potential is so thick you can cut it with a knife. This will be the house we bring our family home to. Hopefully, this will be the house where they are born. It may also be the house they first come home to though and that is good too. I have the baby bug pretty bad right now and so that is largely how I project my future. I see myself making PB&J sandwiches at the kitchen counter and listening to G reading to our small people on the sofa in the living room. I picture us collecting eggs from our chickens in the backyard and planting veggies in the side yard. I see my life unfolding in that house. Because of all of that potential somehow I am ready to shake loose some of the clutter of my life up to now. I want to throw out those boxes of random shit. I want to send all of those clothes I haven't worn in forever to Goodwill. I want to streamline. I want to prune and make room for the new. It all seems very exciting to be "making ready" for our lives together in this way. Even if the small people don't arrive the way I dream or at all for some time. The house seems like the beginning of something new and wonderful. I need space for it to bloom.

Well, that is just about all the news fit to print. It may or may not be obvious that there are a few upcoming posts. Internship is awesome! I can't wait to start my memoirs of a baby medic. We had our "engagement" photos this week. As if we needed one more thing to worry about! It turned out to be a real blessing. It felt like the cap of a monumental week. It was nice even, to have someone telling me to smooch on The Hubbs. I also need to post about how much my mom rocks. She has just been a shooting star this week. I don't know what I would have done without her. Our moms are a pretty rad pair actually. G's mom is one of my favorite women in the whole world. I can't believe I scored so hard in the mother-in-law department.

Well, I have been running! I am running a half marathon on the 4th of July and I am feeling pretty darn optimistic! I think I am going to win this one! Haha! No really, I have done many more high mileage runs in prep for this run and I think it is going to be more fun than any of the other halves I have done in the last 2 years. I am excited. My body continues to change though not so much on the scale these days. I could eat less cheese and it is about time to go there in the final push for the wedding. However, I am happily trotting along eating what is good for me 80% of the time and getting lots of exercise. Life is crazy but life is good. I will keep posting as things keep unfolding.

So..Yeah, That Just Happened...

This was a scary week. I had my annual exam with my new Midwife on Monday and she found a lump in my left breast. It felt a lot like every other lump in there except it was a little bigger and "funny" on the edges. She told me not to panic but that she wanted to refer me to the breast health center for an ultrasound just to be sure it was nothing. I left the office feeling like a stunned bird who had just flown into a window. I did not see that coming.

In every way I loved this midwifery practice. The woman I saw was just like my mom in her "way" with patients. There was a feeling that finally, I had found someone who would be with me, the way I had always seen my Mother with women. I was instantly very comfortable with her. Then....she did my exam and told me all of this. My mind reeled. I had felt lumps and had written them off as "boob fat lumps". I heard my mom rolling her eyes at twenty-one year-old me saying "it's nothing, you're such a hypochondriac. She told me that "of course, everyone thinks the big C when they hear lump" but she didn't want to freak me out she just wanted to be sure.

She took my blood pressure which was now soundly elevated to about 165/83, did my bi manual exam (always a treat) and then we talked a little more about my health history. I told her yes, I would like to get pregnant in the next two years and I was trying to lose a little weight. She noted that it would be best for me and my fertility to shed some pounds and suggested the high blood pressure diet. Ahhrg! I don't have high blood pressure. My cardiovascular system is in fantastic health. I can run forever! I am over my ideal weight and under the most incredible pressure I have ever felt in my life to "get everything right" right now. Also, I don't sleep normal people hours and I work in a place where people are dead/dying, faking/drug seeking. insane/off of their medications, pregnant and bleeding/miscarrying, or disconnected from the health care system and are using us as a primary care facility. It is HARD to be there and in a job where you get to do very little to make any sort of immediate or long term impact. I am not in a job where I might get a save or make an important call tonight, tomorrow or three days from now. I fetch blankets, dip urine, move people to ultrasound, chart on the broken and dying, occasionally, I do some chest compressions but a trained monkey could fill my slot with very little effort. Sometimes waiting for my job to "mean more" takes a toll. Anyway, all of that plus a fucking lump in my breast is enough to get a girl's BP up. It's not because I am fat. I am pretty sure of that.

So, I left the office in a foggy haze. I kept thinking that I wished I was walking out of there with the happy news that I was pregnant instead of the news of a lump. Wrong kind of lump I thought over and over again. Wrong damned lump! I got in the car and called my mom. I cried and cried. I told her everything expecting that she would give me some sort of "this is nothing" schpeel. Her words were "well how scary is that?" I replied through sobs that it was pretty f-ing scary. I felt so far away from her. So far away from my dad. Shit I even missed The Hubbs mom. I wanted anyone parental around me. I felt like if one of them were there there would be no way some big scary grown-up disease could grow in my body. I knew the odds of this lump being nothing were very very high. I also know that every young woman who has fought breast cancer at a tender age had the exact same odds and there is nothing special about me that should make me any different. Odds are just that, odds.

I got home and the Hubbs was asleep after working the night before. I told him they found a lump in my left breast and he said "oh honey, I'm sorry" and fell back asleep. I didn't begrudge him this at all. I know what REM sleep is all about and I knew that him waking up at that moment wasn't going to change anything. I called the specialist's office and made an appointment for Wednesday. Then I got ready to go to my clinical rotation. That night I was in Labor and Delivery. It felt like some kind of fucked up providence that I would be going to watch women have babies. Warped, I know. Anyway, I went and I observed and it was as miraculous and wonderful as always. I know that sounds dry and devoid of true emotion but my experience in L&D is the subject of a whole nother post on many things including the deep emotions I feel towards women in labor.

The next two days were mostly a big blur. Wednesday came and I got up and ready for my appointment. I walked into an office and filled out some papers with a graphical drawing of two breasts asking me to mark the target area. It felt like target shooting. Next a woman called out "Mrs Melnick?" That was the first time anyone had called me that other than jokingly. Again, wrong fucking ultrasound....Wrong wrong wrong. I went into a changing room that looked like a very fancy fitting room at a department store. I put on this strange cape and a robe and left my pants and shoes on. I was lead to a small room where the Hubbs was waiting for me. A very nice French woman put hot jelly on Lefty and smoshed around for a while. She reported that she didn't see anything concerning but the doctor was in the next room over and she was going to have him come talk to me and have a look. I was half-way to relief. The doctor came is and brought with him a young man about my own age who was a radiology resident. They both took a look at Lefty and there was more poking and now cold jelly. It felt strange to lay on a table with one breast hanging out talking about how I don't have menstrual cycles anymore. Very foreign. He didn't find anything concerning. The lump was a collection of glands and fatty breast tissue. It was normal. I was fine.

I felt happy and exhausted walking out of the office. I decided to scrap the day of school and went home to fall fast asleep in my husband's arms. Sweet sleep of relief. I called my parents and told them to sound the all clear. I was lucky. Barb, Irene and millions of other women are not so lucky. I feel lucky. I will do whatever I need to to loose the pre-baby weight, to stay healthy, to love my own body, to lower my goddamnned blood pressure. I have tasted the fear of illness and I am not ready to fight through it yet. I am not ready to wage that war even with the hubbs at my side. And BOY let me tell you he was at my side.

When I started panicking about the what ifs he didn't tell me I was crazy, when I started fretting that this might mean no babies, no breasts, no...anything...he didn't try to convince me that it was insane. He held me and told me he was sorry I was sad and frightened but that he wasn't yet. He told me he has never doubted that we will have many fat, healthy babies and live a long time together watching them grow up and watching their fat healthy babies grow up as well. He wins! Shit, I win. I married that man. I love him so for all the things he said and didn't say, for calmly going to the appointment with me and for thinking that the most awkward part of the whole day was when the doctor walked in while he was kissing my arm. I love him.

So, the moral of the story is that I don't have the big 'C', I am refocusing my efforts to relax, slim down, get healthy. I went for an 8 mile run with the Hubbs and the young dog today. It was good. I was tired but it was do-able. We had a great conversation about babies and the Hubbs has humored me with the loose goal of Christmas 2011 as the IUD pulling target. I just have to lose the weight and get hired, through orientation, and squirrel away some cash to pay for a home birth.

Midwives, home births, labor and delivery, and nursing school are all topics for near future posts. For tonight I am just thankful to have 2 strong feet, attached to 2 strong legs, 2 lumpy yet, healthy breasts, and the sweetest, strongest, toughest and most compassionate husband ever. And that is more than enough.

Things I Am Not

I am not a straight A student this time around.
I am not yet completely ready to be someones mother.
I am not ready to be a full grown paramedic.
I am not ready to think about how big my school loans are now.
I am not ready to stop working yet.
I am not ready to give up cheese.
I am not quite ready to rock my wedding dress. (see above).
I am not over getting B's this term. (But I have stopped crying and have almost stopped beating myself up for it)
I am not ready to forgive my shit head brother.
I am not ready to write off my shit head brother.
I am not ready for my sweet old dog to pass.
I am missing the ocean and the old days of being on it 7 months a year.

All of that said....I AM several things right now too.

I am on spring break.
I am so very in love with my husband.
I am becoming stronger everyday.
I am loving running more every spin out.
I am ready to leave town for a few days.
I am ready to see my Dad and Kathleen in their new place.
I am ready to have my mom live a LOT closer.
I am ready to see my family.
I am ready to know where I will be spending the summer interning.
I am ready for a new ipod.
I am ready to start a garden.
I am ready to sleep under the stars for the first time this year.
I am ready to learn to climb a mountain.
I am still excited about becoming a medic
I am looking forward to each day with this strange mix of wonder and anticipation that comes from loving my life in a pretty profound way right now ups and downs included.

So, there you have it. The shit, the grit and the great stuff. All in a list.

Running had been going really well. I will hit a 20 mile week this week if my shinsplints don't bring me down.
The back fat is slowly receding.

Things That Give Me Wings

I have been sick for the last week. Sick like I have not been in a VERY long time if EVER. I can't remember ever, in my adult life, being so sick that I stayed in bed for an entire week and didn't get cabin fever. That was me last week. I had a bit of the slows on Thursday when the Hubbs was feeling under the weather and we went hiking in the muddy wonderful oregonian february spring. By the end of our night at the soaking pool I was feeling wiped out. I didn't even want to 'do it' and it had been about a week since Hubbs and I had been in the same bed at the same time. The next day I woke up feeling pretty puny and I puttered around before work coughing and feeling scratchy and icky throated. By about half-way through my shift I was wheezing, coughing and sweating. I took a gram of Tylenol and 800mg of Motrin and 3hrs later I had a fever of 101.3. That was enough for my charge nurse (mother of 5). She sent me home and I went quite easily. I was hacking my ass off. I would get really winded and breath fast and hack some more. The next night the Hubbs had to go to work and I was wilty on the sofa watching the olympics (perfect sick day viewing BTW!) I was breathing pretty fast just resting and around midnight I spoke to G and he called a friend of ours who was working in the county and just happened to be in the neighborhood, to come over (in her AMBULANCE)and check me out. I was breathing fast at about 30-40 times a min and my oxygen saturation and CO2 levels were normal. She gave me a nebulizer treatment and then got called out to a "real call". The Hubbs called and told me that he thought if I made it through the night and still felt shitty in the morning that he would take me to the quick care. I knew it was viral. I never once thought it WASN'T viral. I was scared though. I have never had asthma or anything else that would compromise my ability to breathe. I felt a little panicked that I couldn't get enough air all the time for about 4 days. It was worse if I had a coughing fit. There was so much pain with just breathing and it became SO much worse with coughing which I was doing almost constantly. I was MISERABLE. I was living in my shower sucking hot steam and eucaliptys. Sunday we went into the hospital. I was working pretty hard to breathe just walking from the car to the door but I begged the triage nurse to let me go to the "fast track" because I didn't want a full work up for chest pain and I knew that if I went to the main ED some over eager resident would order every test in the whole world and I would end up with an ECG and there was NO FRIGGIN WAY IN HELL that the tech on that day was going to see my boobs! Yep! That's how I felt. Silly or not. I knew I just needed a little chest x-ray to make sure it wasn't pneumonia and some NAR-CO-TICS! I needed to be sedated so I could finally sleep! I got just that. She didn't even offer me antibiotics and that was a good thing because I didn't need them. I needed sleep. Sleep. Sleeeeeep. A little phenergan and codiene later and 4 more days in bed and I am a 70% new woman. I am still coughing and still a little winded with exertion but I feel a lot better. We even did it...twice. Yeah, this may be TMI but G has been such an amaizing sport and has taken SUCH sweet care of me (including calling my mother to tell her about my trip to the doctor and delivering milkshakes and cup-o-noodle to me) he deserved to be jumped. I took my decongestant, took my advil, steamed as much crud as I could out of my lungs before he got home and jumped him. He was so happy both for the booty and for the sign that I was feeling better. I love my husband.

So, needless to say my exercise regiment has been a little non-existant. I did lose 7 pounds in fever and coughing. Next week I will start up with water aerobics and running and see how the lungs do. I am excited to be back in action after what was the longest week in my adult life in bed. I am totally behind in school but hour by hour I catch up and the work I am doing is getting me A's so its gonna be ok. The title image for this week came from the fact that as I sit here at work it was time for my redbull inorder to amp up enough to get through the project I am working on as well as the next 4 hours until morning. As I stared thinking about how I manage to make it from day to day the one constant is G. He makes my life possible right now. Paying bills, cleaning up after me, listening to my crap, bringing me food when I am sick, making me dinner while I study, snuggling me to sleep on the rare night that we are home together for bed and being eternally patient with my bad behavior, my short temper, my distracted mind. He loves me. It makes everything "do-able". He gives me wings. He is my melted cheese all the time. Tonight, as he is sleeping in a snow shelter up on Mt Hood, with the Search and Rescue kids doing snow training I am proud of him and proud to be his wife. He makes me want to try harder, be stronger, do more for other people. He is my inspiration.

Updates and Realizations...AKA: Random Blog Day

I had a huge test today. It sucked. It was hard and it was overwhelming and I wanted to cry and go to bed afterwards. It certainly didn't help that after trauma conference we sat around as a class and "shared" our clinical experience thus far. I have felt frustrated about my personal clinical experience but hearing my classmates talk about the exciting experiences they are having made me so sad and frustrated. I wanted so badly to be at my hospital because I felt a connection there. I wanted to believe that because I think so highly of the hospital and because I feel like a vested member of the team there they would value me and want to teach me. I never would have guessed that I would be ignored, shut out, and generally dismissed the way I have been in the last two weeks. It has been so awkward and generally humbling (not in the productive way but in the demoralizing way) that I don't ever want to go back. That's NOT because I don't like intubating because I do. I really do. I think it is interesting and exciting and would have loved to do more. I am bitter about it yes. It is only exacerbated by the fact that my program director actually wants me to buy them a 'Thank you gift' for accommodating me. I would like to buy them a "screw you" gift instead but I do understand the need to make nice for future classes should they find themselves looking at my hospital as an option for clinicals...NOT something I would recommend BTW! OK, enough about that...long story short....I am miserable right now...with school that is. It feels like last term was challenging but this term feels nearly impossible! It feels disorganized from the scheduling of assignments to the grading on up...nightmare!

Random musing number two is on the fitness front. I have been resisting the urge to put my wedding dress on every other day to see if my hard work has been paying off. In fact, I had resisted the urge since the day after Christmas...resisted that is until Monday. I broke the box out of it's deep dark plastic wrapped hiding place and slid the delicious fabric over my head. My heart was pounding as I put my arms down and reached for the sipper. Last time I tried the dress on it had been tight through the chest and back, and it had clung to some of the wrong places over my hips and belly. Monday night I zipped it up and turned to face the mirror and was shocked to see the change. I am only 9.5lbs down since starting all of this in the middle of December but there is no disputing the change in my body. My arms are beginning to take a more proper shape and the "bubble wrap" under my boobs and on my back has begun to fade. My belly is even taking on a more toned shape...no more food baby, baby! Even the Hubbs has pointed it out. I know it is hard to notice things like subtle weight loss and body shape changes when you see someone everyday but we were at the gym the other night and he got on the treadmill next to me and said "honey your butt looks smaller. You ARE losing weight!" He is not the smoothest operator out there but I could tell he meant it because it was all awkward and surprised. As nice as it is to hear that stuff from him, I am not doing it to "get" him or to make him think I am sexy...God help him, he already thinks that! I am doing all of this so that I feel sexy to me and feel healthy, so I can feel good about growing a baby in this body or raising a baby in a healthy lifestyle. I am doing this for the wedding dress too. So far I am down a pant size and making huge strides in the dress department. I'll keep you posted.



Random musing number three...Things that have changed since getting married. #1: We "fist bump" ring hand to ring hand. Vomit! I know, but the Hubbs thinks it's like "the Obamas honey...it's cool". I humor him. It makes me happy to see him all silly over our rings. It makes me happy to see him happy...more vomit, I know. Thing #2: We graduated from therapy the other day. It was never hard to go or to work on things in between meetings. I really think Tim (our guy) just helped us trust in the strength of our relationship even in the face of our struggle this fall. I think I more than Hubbs needed an outside, unbiased, uninvested voice of professional reason to help me clear away the mental clutter so I could see how good I have it. How good we both have it. He was so sweet as he told us he thought we were on the right track. "You can always call me or email me to make an appointment but I don't think we need to set anything up at this point. You two seem very happy and grounded right now. I see good things to come". It was so nice. I feel that way too but I think I am biased and I am always afraid I am deluding myself...What makes me even more nervous is that I don't even care if I am deluding myself. I am so happy with Hubbs and so happy to be married that it doesn't matter what anyone thinks. Thing #3: Is in the same vein as thing 2. I realize that sometimes I am high speed and he is not and vice versa. Today was a perfect example. After my test I was despondent. I was hungry and exhausted and pissed off. I mostly wanted to eat melted cheese and go to sleep. Hubbs was on full boogie talking about the EMS research he thinks he would like to conduct but knows politics will never allow. He was going a thousand miles an hour explaining all of this and I was for all intents and purposes Homer Simpson...all drooly and "Ghaargh". I have almost no idea what he said. It is not that I lack interest or that I routinely do not pay attention. What I am reflecting on is that this never seems to be a problem for us. We take turns being worthless and vegged out. The important thing is that even when exhausted or despondent or maxed out we go to one another. Just spending time be it sleeping, running errands or walking the dogs, is quality time together. It is what recharges us. Being together is always better than being apart. I spend plenty of time on my own, 4 nights a week in fact. I like my alone nights but I love snuggling in between a dog and my husband. Even if he or I am yammering away while the other one actively passes out. It's just better together. I know this is all a leeetle on the random side but it has been a long day. I am mostly ready to head to bed and am now just waiting for the Hubbs to get home so I don't pass out before he gets home.

Fitness day 46
Down total of 9.5lbs! Woot!
Get-ups x 7min
Water aerobics

And Now We Share Two Last Names

I got married on Monday night. It was the best day of my life. However, before I jump into the description of the nuptials I have to preface it with a bit of context on the day as a whole.

We have established that I am in Paramedic school. I began my clinical rotations on Monday. Not just clinicals in general, but my OR rotation. This is the rotation where you humbly grovel at the feet of the ass kings known as anesthesiologists. I don't mean to bag on anesthesiologists as a people (he he "bag"...a little airway humor)...well ok, sure I am bagging on them as a population because they SUCK (for the most part). They are inept cellar dwellers who put people TO SLEEP as a profession. Most of them have the social graces of a glass of water. Actually, water is usually more refreshing. Anyway, there had been some scheduling snafu and my program director was left short several OR spots. I had said maybe I could get in at the hospital where I work...My director took off with this concept and began the long frustrating road to getting me a slot on what turned out to be a bloated student schedule in the OR. The day before I was to begin my rotation I received a forwarded email from the head of anesthesiology to my director. I paraphrase when I say it said they were frustrated and irritated to have to accommodate me, they will "never do this again", and it puts a major imposition on the other students down there. I got that email and panicked! Holy Shit! They don't want me and my director has begged and cajoled and there I am! F!

Needless to say I was very anxious on Monday morning. I walked into find the woman assigned to me was not there yet and when she finally arrived she didn't look me in the eye, didn't say anything to me, handed me an OR schedule with several check marks next to surgeries I assumed she thought I had a shot at and walked away. OK, I thought, I can handle this. I have been in tough spots before. I will smile and be kind and deferential and I WILL survive this day! I may not get any tubes out of it but I will not die of anxiety. Long story short, I got several tubes! The first doc recognized me and pulled me in right away. The second one recognized me as well and after quizzing me on bagging and preoxygenation he too let me place and ET tube in a pt. It was WAAAAAAAY COOOOOL! It is still frightening as I feel like at any moment they may say "Nope, you're clearly and idiot! Get out of here! Bugger off!" But the take home point is that that did NOT happen on Monday. Thus, I left the hospital (after working out) and headed out into the misty late afternoon of Oregon feeling preemptive shock for what had happened and what was to come in just a few hours.




I had told the hubbs that I was going to hit the store for flowers before coming home and as I walked in I must admit, I was NOT feeling very bridal. I was wearing scrubs and frankly felt exhausted after all the adrenalin of the day. I was wandering about the flowers and the young woman finally asked me if she could help. I wasn't sure. She asked what the occasion was and I said I was getting married tonight. "Oh my gosh! I have never done flowers for a wedding before!" She said clasping hands to heart. "It's cool" I said, "I have never been married before. We can figure this out together." And we did. She made me the sweetest bouquet of hyacinth (sitting on my night stand now still smelling like heaven) and 10 mini Gerber daisies that all looked different and hand painted. As she put things in order I ran in to fetch green tea and salad for the mister. I decided I wanted to give gifts to our small collection of buddies witnessing things. I wandered about for a while trying to decided. I settled on a gift bag containing Annie's mac and cheese and a gourmet chocolate bar. I went to check out and the guy ringing me up looked at me and asked "Do you really like Mac and Cheese?" I could have honestly replied yes! I do love it you know. However, I explained to him that I loved melted cheese and my theory about how it comforts and fills in the cracks in the soul like nothing else and I thought it to be the perfect gift of friendship. And chocolate...only freaks don't like chocolate and if they don't give it to someone else and make their day. Simple, but perfect. I told him "nobody is going to open the bag, see Annie's and chocolate and say Oh damn! I hate this shit." He had to agree. By this time I had received several hugs from perfect strangers and I was feeling more bridal by the moment as I walked to my car in the misting rain.

I went home and got dressed and we headed to the pub to meet our friends. We were almost the last to arrive and as soon as we walked in we both got nervous. I couldn't sit still. There were lots of hugs and kisses and thank yous exchanged. I was pretty sure I was going to explode. Hubbs was wicked nervous too. He couldn't stop pacing. Our friend Bear who was marrying us asked us if there was anything he didn't know that he needed to know. We both said no and looked at the other one for confirmation. As if we hadn't driven there together or something. Everyone was smiling and chatting politely. Somehow it was recommended that introductions be made. I still don't know how it happened but we all ended up going around the table saying our name, favorite flavor of ice cream, and what "brought us here tonight". It was priceless. My good friend Jen (not the get to know ya game sort of girl) looked like she had just been transplanted to a bar mitzvah on mars. But, being the big sister I never had she played along beautifully. It made the old outward bound instructor in me sooooo happy. Classic Me.



After the get to know ya circle Bear said some beautiful things about marriage, weddings, seeds and love. He seemed to have found just the right words to encircle what we are trying to do with the two step wedding thing. I can't quite put the words down here but maybe eventually I will stop cherishing them so dearly and will type them up. After Bear the Hubbs said some very sweet things to me about what he always thought his life would be like and how I was a perfect piece to the puzzle. I in turn, said some things back about how he makes perfect broccoli, leaves very sweet notes and how much I love him. I left out the part about him being the only person in the world who doesn't bug me as much as everyone else in the world (with only one or two exceptions) as there were other folks there and I didn't want anyone to take offense :) After "vows" we cheered, exchanged rings (his had fallen out of my pocket and was sitting in the grass by the side of the street! OMG close call!) ate some dinner and then cut the cupcake. Yes, cupcake. They were delicious!

After cupcakes there were stories of medicine, weddings, school, love, shenanigans and friendship. It was litter ally, the best night of my life. Friends took pictures and played silly songs on the juke box. Our friend Annett had collected beautiful glass jars for the wedding in September. I can't say that ALL of my people were there but somehow, the group that ended up at that table on Monday night was the perfect blend of people from the skeptic to the eternal optimist, the new friend to the life long one. It was a beautiful patchwork quilt of people who love us. I felt so happy and so special (just like everyone else). It was the perfect night.




I know that the wedding in September will not be the perfect day or weekend. There are too many people and variable for it to be a blissful and precious as 3 hours at a tiny pub on a Monday night. However, my sights are not set on perfection in September. My family will be there, my brother from far away and my in-laws from as close as downstairs will all be there. There will be weather and uncomfortable beds and people who bug one another. I am hoping for a majority of good time and a chance to stand up in front of my family bio and otherwise as say "I love this man. I choose him. We want to build a life and a family together and maybe help make the world a little better than it was before we got here. Help us, Help us in the hard time and help us celebrate the good times. We love you and we want you to know how much we love each other." Damn....that's not half bad for off the cuff. Anyway, Monday was wonderful. The Hubbs is still freaking out about the ring on his finger and I am still trying to wrap muscle memory around signing my new last name, but all in all I would say it is utter bliss.

Fitness day ???
I have been working on get ups, rocking the elliptical and tonight was water aerobics. I am still at 8lbs down but have recently noticed I am down an entire pant size not just barely but really down. Hip Hip Hooray!

He's too what?

When it comes to wedding planning and the obligatory worrying about details and time lines I have decided that Hubbs and I are best likened to these two chairs. He is comfortable and cozy. You could curl right up and take a nap. This chair is full of patience and seems like a nice place to just wait it out. I am not like that.


I am much more like this shaker ladder backed rocking chair. It is a fine place to knit or rock a baby to sleep. It is not someplace you pull your knees to your chest and take a nap. It is a classic (I too am a classic when it comes to wanting to have things a certain way and wanting more than anything to know when, why, how, how much and by whom). I hate not knowing.

Currently, the hubbs and I are trying to reschedule our "paper wedding". We are getting married before the actual wedding in September for many reasons. It started out as all about the health insurance as I will eventually lose mine through work when my clinicals are over and I start my externship taking me out of the ED and into the back of an ambulance for the final push of school. The cost of health insurance through school is so obscene that we decided that getting "paper married" so I could join his policy early was the best plan. The reasons seem to have multiplied from there. Several friends of ours did the wedding before the wedding thing and all of them are very glad they did. All of them claim to have felt like the paper wedding was a special time for just them that set them up to feel more excited and relaxed on the big day allowing for focus on friends and family and fun on the "Day".

Unfortunately the Hubbs and I hit a bit of black ice this fall and though we were slated to make it happen over my holiday break from school we decided to wait and spend some time really working on putting strong habits and tools in place so that we might weather the inevitable storms ahead with all the tools possible. Basically, we never fought, argued or struggled before this November. We didn't. Some couples say that but we really didn't. We struggled with the outside world sometimes and had to work through obstacles but they were always external obstacles and we always just stood back to back and worked it out together. This time it was different. There had been a breech in the fortress and I didn't know until it was too late that I was responsible for the severity of some of the contributing factors. My being so focused on school and grades had left Hubbs feeling a bit abandoned. He knew fundamentally, the reason for the long hours and stress and so he didn't want to put it on me to have to make it better. I want to say now that he did not go have an affair or anything profoundly stupid like that but there was a system failure. It was not pretty.

Anywhooo....I digress. So now we are trying to get the rescheduled paper wedding off the ground. Our dear friend who will be marrying us in Sept is going to be marrying us this time too. We have a few friends who will be joining us for beers and likely, I will have to get up and go to school the next day. I am excited about this. I want to know when this will be. My school schedule is about to get crazy with clinicals beginning in 2 weeks. I had really hoped to have all of this off my plate before I had to move onto clinical and honestly, planning a wedding. Our dear friend happens to be a lawyer and devoted husband and father to two beautiful daughters. This translates to busy and usually in deep doodoo with his wife already for having an impossible schedule without the added fun of trying to fit in a night at a bar marrying some friends in the middle of one of their busiest months. Basically we suck for him right now.

Tonight, on my way to work, Hubbs and I were talking about how we were going to pull this off and I was feeling more and more hopeless. I think sometimes I take his laid back, easy chair approach to things as a lack of concern, enthusiasm or commitment. He truly does not sweat the small stuff. That said sometimes I think he neglects to sweat the big stuff and it leaves me feeling panicked that if I don't do (fill in the blank), it won't get done. This is unfair of me for 97% of our lives. Our bills get paid, the dogs eat, laundry comes up from the basement and the rent check goes out on time. A Christmas tree even appeared and was decorated in the living room without my orchestration. I am a very lucky woman and in the relative sense I should shut my mouth and thank my lucky stars. I am not that kind of woman however, I am the open your big mouth and realize later that you should apologize kind of woman. I am also the type of woman who believes we are more than our gender roles and expectations of ourselves. I like to be challenged and am attracted to people who aspire to grow and learn continually. I also don't want to plan a dammed wedding by myself. Its not fun.

My best girls are on the other side of the country with brand new babies, off the coast of Japan on a navy ship doing anti-piracy actions, living their own freshly married or engaged lives or becoming DOCTORS. I don't have a lot of ladies near by and my mom lives at the other end of an entire day's travel to the other side of the country. There won't be showers and all of the traditional fuss. I am a little bit on my own here.

I have support from some new friends who have offered generously to help but I feel a little bit like there is nothing to help with yet as I don't know what I need to do. I DO know that we need invitations sent out. We need a photographer and we need speakers for the party. I also know that there will be a thousand other little things that I will need help with and won't have time for. What I want is a united front. I want to know what he thinks and wants and I want him to pick a few things from the ever expanding to do list without me having to melt down first. I want him to read my mind. He doesn't see the need to worry about this or that. He just trusts that it will happen and usually, it does. But this is our wedding and time is money in the WIC. Waiting can be the difference between yes and no or 300.00 vs 1,000.00. It sucks but its true.

So we had a long talk about how his chill attitude leaves me feeling a little psychotic and like I must nag to see results. He explained that my impatience leaves him feeling as though he wants to say not now just to teach me to wait. It all seems fair enough and nobody got upset. However, I do think its something to bring up next time we are with our "guy" Tim. I want to learn how to communicate better so that we get things done without nagging and I can chill out without him feeling the need to teach me a lesson in patience. Now that I have worked through all of this in blogland I think I see that this is all part of it. This dance of triggers and anxiety, patience and love is the dance of life. Weddings put all of that into a high powered magnifying glass and turns up the gain. In the grand scheme of life I think we do pretty well. I need to remember to keep wedding perspective and life perspective in their proper places.

Fittness Day 17
Eliptical 75min - 900kCal
Pilates 10min