One More Curveball

A lot has happened this week, but I've held off on posting in order to make sure that I had a handle on the situation first. After thinking about it long and hard, Michael decided to drop out of Special Forces selection. When he called to tell me, I was in complete shock. After a week and a half, he began having pain in his knees. He went to see the medics who told him that he had strained the MCLs in both knees. He thought that he would be medically dropped, but they told him that he would only be medically dropped if he actually tore an MCL. He was then faced with a difficult decision: withdraw voluntarily and perhaps never be able to try again or continue on in pursuit of his dream and maybe injure himself permanently in the process. I am so proud of him for putting his health above his dreams. Unfortunately, he failed to tell me or his family about the injury at first, so I was bombarded with questions from them regarding his mental status. They thought that something had happened at selection that had made him completely change his views on the Army. Well, anytime that a man is forced to give up on a dream, it is going to mess with his head. In fact, this decision messed with his head more than selection ever could. There were a few days where he wasn't making a lot of sense. The truth is that he believed that Special Forces was now not an option for him, even though prior to his injury he was in the top 10%, and with that off the table, he didn't know where to go. What next? When you think that you have to give up on your dream, what do you do next? He is finally, I believe, at peace with his decision, and after talking to his mentor, we think that he may be able to try again in a few months. For now, we are just going to take it one day at a time. He isn't allowed to come home until the end of selection, so I have to wait until Friday to see him. I know that he could really use a hug.

Crazy Week

The lovely jlc has reminded me that I need to update, and she is absolutely correct. All of you are hopefully aware by now of what transpired here on Thursday. By a twist of fate/bit of luck/divine miracle/whatever you would like to call it. Thursday was my day off and I was 30 miles away, instead of 2 blocks away. It has made for a rough couple of nights, as I am all alone in a house which creaks constantly, leading me to awaken multiple times per night. About the incident itself, I am unable to comment. As an employee, it has been made clear to me that I am not allowed to reveal information to news media or in blog posts. Believe me that as soon as I am able, I will be happy to talk about it, but right now, it could cost me my job. As far as I know, Michael and the other guys that he is with who are stationed here are unaware of what happened. They are kept pretty isolated. I thought that there was a chance that they would be allowed to contact their loved ones to ensure that they were safe, but evidently that was not the case as I have not heard from him since last Friday, before he began selection. I hope to goodness that he doesn't know, because the last thing that he needs right now is the distraction of being worried about me. Other than that, life is pretty normal. I was amazed by how quickly I fell back into the routine of being on my own. Sure, I felt sorry for myself the first couple of days, but after that, it was back to routine. We are now 1/3 of the way done. I made myself a long list of things to accomplish. So far, I've only managed to clean a bit and hang some more curtains. A lot has happened, and I have a lot that I want to tell him, but I only have a couple more weeks to wait.

One Big Bag of Emotions

I am:

thankful- For the last few weeks, and for the next few as well, I've been working at the clinic on post where all of the Warriors in Transition are seen. Seeing them everyday makes me more and more thankful that I got my husband back in one piece, mentally and physically.

worried- At the same time, seeing them everyday is a constant reminder of how dangerous my husband's job is. So many of them were injured in training events and not deployment. I find that the longer I'm working in this clinic, the more worried I become.

missing- I am really missing the hubby. Yes, I think this makes me a giant wuss. I mean, he has only been gone for 2 days. Is this a joke? I was really hoping that after the deployment, something like this would be easy. Wow was that naive of me. What did I do with myself for a whole year?

nervous- I finally got my appointment to see the infectious disease specialist. The earliest that they can see me is the day after Thanksgiving. I guess they aren't as concerned as I am. All I know is that every day, a different lymph node hurts, and it is really uncomfortable.

contemplating- A new hair cut. I'm thinking about getting a couple inches taken off the bottom so that my hair falls right below my collar bones and getting some side swept bangs. I had side swept bangs about 6 years ago, during the year and a half that my husband (then friend) and I were not on speaking terms, so he's never seen my hair like that, and there are no surviving pictures.

guilty- I have to drop the Ernie monster off at the puppy daycare/kennel tomorrow. While Michael is gone, my schedule is ridiculous- work 2 days, off 1, work 3, off 1- and there is no way that I can give the puppy the attention that he needs, especially since some days, I wouldn't even be able to let him out at all during the day. So, Ernie has to go to daycare for a while. I'm going to pick him up when I can, but it just isn't fair to him to try and keep him here. And, he loves daycare, because he gets to play with other dogs all day long. Maybe I shouldn't feel guilty, but I just feel horrible that I'm dumping my dog off on other people.

disgusted- I handed out 300 pieces of candy last night in under an hour and a half. A lot of the kids were very nice and polite. The others....not so much... some of them weren't even kids. The number of teenagers not in costume who came to my door was astounding. What are you supposed to be? A delinquent? The number of kids who didn't say "thank you" after walking through my flower beds while their parents looked on was surprising. I even had one kid tell me that he wanted another piece. Seriously? What got me was the adults. You and I both know that your dog or your 3 month old isn't going to eat that candy. You are an adult. If you want candy, go to the store and buy some. I don't think I'll be passing out candy next year.

happy- I finally hung the curtains that I bought weeks ago, and I'm slowly but surely cleaning up this disaster of a house. We may be able to go see Michael's parents for Christmas this year. Ernie is still wild and crazy, but he is a good dog. The hubby is off doing what he loves. I have a job that I can tolerate- I'm thankful to have a job at all. Life is good!

Happy Howl-oween!

From the Ernie monster! Yeah, it's not much of a costume. It's a green collar with bats on it. We had intended to dress him up as Ernest the gate guard, his namesake, but that was when we thought that Michael would be here and that we were going to have a party. That, and I didn't feel like spending a lot of money on a costume that he will outgrow... and refuse to wear. So green collar with bats it is. And here is a picture of why he is now the Ernie monster:

The little bits of white that you see are the stuffing from a toy that he demolished. The little green thing in the bottom right corner is his favorite toy, a sprinkler. And, the hose is now his as he has chewed all the way through it. Before anyone thinks that this is what my entire yard looks like, I promise it isn't. It is all in one small corner... except that darn stuffing which is everywhere.

Ernie the Puppy 1 Laundry 0

I know what you are thinking. That is an adorable puppy. Well, wait until you have read my story before you make that decision.

On Thursday, I finally got around to all of the laundry that I had neglected between the trip to Vegas and getting sick. Ernie the puppy was running around under my feet and following me around like always. I sat down on the couch and folded a load while he sat beside me. After I was done folding, I grabbed an armful of folded clothes to put away, leaving behind a stack of Michael's shirts, newly cleaned and folded. This time, Ernie didn't follow me. I got back to the couch and noticed that he was standing oddly over the clothes. Wait a second... he was not doing what I thought he was... was he? Oh yes, he was. He was urinating all over the nice clean clothes. I could have beat his furry little butt.

Quick Care: 1 Thumb Up, 1 Thumb Down

1 thumb up for it being fairly quick and being completely free. 1 thumb down for the fact that the doctor did not listen to a word I said. When I switched to Tricare Prime, I was lucky enough to be assigned to a PCM at one of the clincs, specifically the one that I am currently working at, instead of the main hospital. I was enven luckier that this clinic has Quick Care hours meaning that I don't have to go to the ER. When I got sick on Tuesday, I decided to go into Quick Care to get a flu test and something to make me feel better. I had no idea what I was getting myself in to. I was seen pretty quickly, but I was still there forever. That I was expecting. It was being forgotten about and then not listened to that got me. I got there and was interviewed by the triage nurse. I gave him all my info and a complete list of my symptoms including fever of 100.8, cough, chills, runny nose, nausea, and body aches. No vomiting. No diarrhea. I then waited for a bit and was seen by the intake nurse. I gave my full list of symptoms again. Again, no vomitting. No diarrhea. Then, I waited again, and the doctor came in. I gave him my full list of symptoms while he listened to my breathing through my sweatshirt. If he could hear anything through my sweatshirt, I'm impressed with his ability to use a stethascope. Once again, no vomitting. No diarrhea. Then they forgot about me. I don't just think they forgot about me. The intake nurse told me they had forgotten about me when he remembered that I was still sitting in the exam room waiting on my flu test. Then I waited 3 times as long as I was told I would have to wait for the results. At that point I just wanted to leave. Then the doctor came back out and told me that I didn't have the flu, but that he was going to put in medication for my vomiting and diarrhea. Wait a sec. I told them on 3 seperate occasions that I am not vomitting and do not have diarrhea, and instead of giving me something for the cough that has been so hard that I have been dry heaving, they gave me something for the only two flu symptoms that I didn't have. Then I noticed my diagnosis. Was it an upper respiratory infection, something that was so blindingly obvious that it was painful? No. He diagnosed me wig dehydration. What?!? One of my symptoms was watery eyes. I had been chugging water and ginger ale all day. I wasn't even close to dehdration. I had literally zero symptoms of dehydration. I was so frustrated that I just left. All I cared about was the flu test anyway. When I went to the follow up with the doctor who is treating me for my lymph nodes, he was appalled at my Quick care experience. I would like to give the Quick care doctor the benefit of the doubt and say that he was just really busy, but he wasn't. He saw 4 other patients in the 3 hours that I was there. I went ahead and got the medication that he prescribed because I like to keep a small pharmacy in my house for those just in case moments. He gave me 120! Why on earth woul I need that many anyways? Did he think I had cholera? Oh well, if anyone is vomiting or has diarrhea, you know who to call for meds.

And the Verdict is...

They still don't know. It isn't lymphoma. All my lab work is normal. So, what's the plan? I have to get an ultrasound on some lumps they found in my breasts, and I have to drive to a civilian hospital 30 minutes away to see an infectious disease specialist. The ultrasound I'm not too concerned about. True, breast cancer runs in my family. Both grandmothers were diagnosed around the age of 80. But I'm nowhere near 80, and benign cysts also run in my family. I'm less than thrilled about seeing the specialist. I just know that it's going to involve more blood and tests. I'm so sick of seeing doctors. I've been to the doctor 3 times in the last two weeks. I'll tell yall all about my experience with Quick care later. I'm usually the type of person who sees the doctor once a year, so the prospect of seeing yet another doctor is not exactly appealing. Oh well, if he can fix me, he'll be my new best friend.