Steroid driven rage.

I have just completed a course of oral steroids. It is a wonder that more violent crimes are not committed by us that are being treated with oral steroids. I usually try to go into hiding when these drugs are prescribed to save those around me from mental and physical harm. Not that I would intentionally harm someone, but these steroids could push a less stable person over the edge.

The rage that is invoked, is one that makes no sense later but is perfectly justified at the time.

Is that a legitimate defense  for the missteps of the last few weeks? I wonder.  I don’t know if I can tell my angry 15-year-old grandson that it was the drugs and make it stick [at least with a straight face] . He was the beneficiary of my over the top, but justified anger.  An angry teenager is difficult to convince of anything.

What I have found is that the steroids are like drink, they only remove the inhibitions to react to something that is usually kept in check. Then the mind-set is to allow action that is only dreamed of in the fantasy of retribution or fulfillment. On the other hand they can cause profound depression. I have been on both ends of this spectrum. Curling up in a fetal position is an option right now

This time, it was the anger and I was convinced to not “go hide” by Arnie [bad decision]. The timing was a perfect storm scenario. There was the planned surprise party with the preparations required for the influx of company. Then the trip to southern Utah during the extreme heat of the summer and the return to a house that had been inhabited by a not so committed housekeeper on vacation, then the rush to get ready for the annual trip inhibited the desire and need to get away. Unfortunately he is probably regretting that decision that now.

Why the steroids on top of all this confusion, when just the confusion and stress is enough to cause MS to flare?  I guess not being able to concentrate and the threatened tremors motivated the call to the doctor.

Now, I am in a house of partially deaf people and young children. The partially deaf are loud to compensate for their inability to hear themselves, they speak up to make sure all others don’t miss their important points.

A two-year old and an eight year old – quiet, not!! The two-year old is just a normal two-year old that has faulty and underdeveloped volume and impulse controllers. The eight year old has issues of independence and control. Independence and control over little brother and mothers meddling. Tomorrow is another day, I hope.

I need a Vacation – no seriously,………………………….. a vacation from vacation.

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Small detour

If you were waiting for me Salt Lake, I didn’t make it. I have been cooped up for so long, I just HAD to go for a walk. So I did. Like all walks I take, they take me to places unintended. Actually this was a little intended I have been wanting to do this one again  for 25 years. Could I do it? I didn’t know. It took me twice as long as it did back then, but I did it. I will pay for it, but just the ability to do it was exhilarating. A stop in Nephi, Utah for the night, I am still buzzed this morning. Now I have to get on the road, I have some pictures that I will share when I can get them transferred. Thoughts on Hiking tomorrow.

On the road, again

It has been since the 23rd if June that I have been gone.  By the time I trudge back into my own kitchen I will have been gone 18 days. I usually take this time to, take pictures, shop,  and see what I haven’t seen before. This trip I spent locked in an air-conditioned room hiding from the heat. It has not been particularly restful. I have edited pictures, finished a photo book I had started, chronicling a life time of Arnie. He is always wondering where the time all went, he turned 70 this year.  He and his wife raised 4 girls, two grandchildren and  started a ranch that is going strong and yet he wonders where the time went.

He lost his wife about the same time I lost my husband now we are just trying to make the time remaining mean something, together.

I have spent an inordinate amount of time with the television providing background noise. I feel like I have lost a few points off my IQ. I am too old to lose too much, the grey matter is not as flexible as it used to be.

Today, I am traveling and hope to get out of the 115 degree temperatures. My MS just absorbs the heat and gives me the blurry vision, fatigue and various and sundry muscle twitches. I need to get back in cool country.

I will pick up my 15 year old grandson take him back home with me. While he is there he wants to do some fishing [it should be good by then] and I am going to have him help move some heavy things.

See ya in Salt Lake City

Hot!!!!!!

I have been in Southern Utah for three days now and it is too hot to venture out to do any sight seeing.  It has been 113 degrees Fahrenheit. that sounds horrible, and it is.  I saw on the news that in Salt Lake City they were baking Chocolate Chip cookies in a parked car. It took a while longer than in the oven, but they cooked in the estimated 165 degree heat. It was only 102. Baking cookies in a parked car when the outside temperature is 113 Degrees would take a lot less time. That is a good reason to not leave  grandma in the car while you run into the store for just a minute. While the checker is running a price check, grandma will bake cookies in the car and you will smell chocolate chip cookies all the way home.

MS – one

Whirl-fire

Whirl-fire (Photo credit: Loving Earth)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Me, zero.

 

If fatigue could be an Olympic sport I should have a platinum medal.

 

Summer is a time when things that I enjoy will cause crushing fatigue, I had to acknowledge that earlier this week and rest for a few day in my air-conditioned room.

 

I am off on my annual trek to see my children and grandchildren in Utah and to visit a long time friend further south.

 

My husband and I were caught up in the promise of endless, affordable vacations at a time when we were both working and could afford to take vacations. We purchased a time share, my husband not to limit himself to just one convinced me that a second would be better. We bought in very good areas with the promise and the hope that we could trade into other places as our needs changed. Now I, have been disabled by M.S., widowed and entered into the arena of an income that just meets my needs with few extras. My needs have changed, I need more income which I haven’t been able to generate, the time share’s needs continually increase.

 

The “good” locations are now enjoying record-breaking heat, 5++ degrees. I will be in Southern Utah with 110+ degrees. Right now I am at 7000 ft above sea level in Park City.

 

In the summertime many valley residents of the Wasatch Front visit the town to escape high temperatures. Park City is usually 20 °F (11 °C) cooler than Salt Lake City

This is according to Wikipedia. Today the forecast for Park City is in the 90’s. Imagine what the temperature will be in the valley.  Heat and MS don’t mix well.

I guess it doesn’t mix well with airplane either.

In June 1990, when Phoenix hit 122 degrees, several airlines, including America West, which later merged with US Airways, were forced to cease flights for several hours because the planes didn’t have the data needed to know how they would fly in temperatures above 120 degrees. [azfamily.com]

I guess the MS brain is kind of like an airplane, it doesn’t have the data to know how to operate in higher temperatures.

 

I will have to spend my time inside knitting, blogging and watching mindless TV until this evening when my grandson and his family are going to come and enjoy the pool and hot tub while I visit with him and his wife and enjoy the children.  I might work on some more creative things, like taking a nap. I have a five-hour trip further south tomorrow [into more and higher heat].

 

 

time away

I’m on my annual trek to Southern Utah. This year I chose to stay midway, in Park City. Due to MS my vision is being difficult, I have to be more aware of fatigue and rest more.This bout of fatigues is due to a 24 hour stint of sleeplessness. It gets harder and harder to catch up.

Park City is an interesting place. Set in the top of the Wasatch mountains above Salt Lake City, hardly conducive to rest, more inclined to long walks that lighten the pocketbook and delicious meals.

Park City used to be a sleepy and quirky mining town occupied by colorful characters,  now, it is a busy, expensive and quirky destination with colorful characters. The site of the 2002 winter Olympics, and a popular destination for skiers and back country hikers alike. Celebrity citing is a popular activity-many famous people live in this area.  Park City is a four season town. I used to come up here to escape the debilitating inversions that turned Salt Lake City into a deep freeze with the door shut [no light on]. It is still a cool place to go both temperature wise and visually.The buildings that have been “restored” are colorful and filled with all manner of expensive thing that we can have a full and rewarding life with out.  The restoration has brought them into the modern view of what “old” looks like. There are a lot of things to do here from music concerts to hiking in some of the most beautiful scenery in North America.

My grandson and his family are living here and I get to meet his newest addition tonight. My week is full, I have premie twin nephews to meet and a farewell to attend.  It is canny how I can be made so busy on a minutes notice of my arrival. Tired will just have to wait for a while.

 

Running away – the girl from nowhere in particular.

In 1994 my husband, Chuck, and I pulled up stakes and ran away from home.

After a truly difficult year of the exacerbation that led to the diagnosis of MS and the end of my neurosis,  we felt the need to change our air.

I was unable to do a lot of the things that we had done together, Chuck needed to fulfill his desire to return to his familial home. Our children had reached the age of majority and we were afraid that at one, maybe two were going to be permanent residents.

Charles W [Chuck] and I met in early 1970, from the first date were constant companions. We were matched emotionally and mentally. He was divorced and I was divorce and looking for compatible companionship. We found it and joined his five children and my one son into the state of Holy Matrimony. Soon there was a set of twin girls added. Our house was full, and had a revolving door for his children, they came and went on their whim or their mothers whim. This is difficult for any relationship, our was no different. We were committed to each other and we survived the children. If nothing else it drew us closer, we became joined at the hip so to speak.

The years of my neurosis [That was doctor speak for my many undiagnosed symptoms] were trying. I had spent many months with constant headaches working full a full-time job and trying to raise our blended family. There were times of unexplained numbness and extreme fatigue that would come out nowhere and be gone into nowhere just as quickly. I had just about given up and accepted the neurosis explanation, when I  forgot how to walk in a straight line. I even asked the diagnosing neurologist if it was terminal neurosis that I had. He assured me that it was MS and I should just go home and be glad that I wasn’t any worse than I was. Easy for him to say. He got fired right there on the spot. I had lived with these unexplained things since before we buried my mother who died from complications of MS  twenty years earlier. I found a good and sympathetic Neurologist. I’ve kept her for all these years. They tell me MS is not inheritable. Tell that to my daughter that was just diagnosed with MS a few years ago.

Anyway, back to running away. I was not able to do a lot of things that we had spent our married lives doing anymore and moving to Montana was a lot better than staying in the city. He had inherited the childhood home of his mother, the Central Hotel in Radersburg. This was our destination.

The hotel was more a boarding house than a hotel by current standards. It was built in about 1867 of hand hewed logs and grafted scavenged buildings. At one time in the heyday of the mining boom the number of guests was in excess of 20 men. This, in a small 6 room space, and the family of 6 lived there.  The only way I can figure the accommodations working out is that they slept in shifts and shared beds.

We bought an adjacent property, the closed grocery store. We re-opened the store and ran it for 10 years.

In Montana driving long distances is not a problem, everything is a long drive away. The closest gas station is 20 miles away, we did OK until the wild fires of 2000. The fires forced the closure of public lands, this stopped the summer traffic for two summers due to fire danger and smokey conditions. Summer traffic was the mainstay of the business, losing that was more than we could tolerate business wise or financially.

Then, cancer joined our family. Esophageal cancer to be precise. What a terrible disease cancer is. My big strong husband of almost 40 years did not have the strength to  fight this demon. His 6 ft., 200 pound frame dwindled to a frail shadow of his former self,  it took him less than two years to lose the battle.

I am happy that he had the opportunity to make it back to the family home, it is too bad that he didn’t live longer to enjoy more of it.

I took his middle daughter to decorate his grave today [Memorial Day], she will be buried alongside us in the family plot of the pioneer cemetery that is the resting place of two of his aunts, his grandparents, one uncle and his sister and brother-in-law. His niece and great nephews  are talking about sites there also.

I became a widow in a place that I was not native to but allowed me to be part of. I am grateful for their quiet acceptance of this vagabond girl from nowhere in particular. [Born in Utah, left at three weeks of age and lived in the back seat of a car always headed to the next grand adventure]

That was 6 years ago, I am still on the great adventure. I do like where I have ended up. I am looking to see what is in store for this girl from nowhere in particular.