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Today Maisie is 4- and earlier this week my dad was 76- What we’ve been working on for her bday (Instagram)

 

It’s a busy birthday week at my house- today Maisie turns 4! I don’t have any pics of her yet this morning, but wanted to update everyone on our projects (and my dad’s bday) this week.

Pic of Papa wearing Maisie’s hat 🙂 –

Maisie on my dad’s bday- she dressed as a ‘cowgirl ballerina’:

We build ultra realistic log cabin dollhouses for fun. I love doing miniature things. Maisie complained that her dollhouse cabins had no bathrooms- so my dad made an outhouse out of poplar, barn wood, and cedar shingles- he even made the handle for the door out of copper wire he hammered and aged!

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New #dollhouse #outhouse collaboration for Maisie's 4th birthday with my dad! We have to get this completed by tomorrow- her actual #birthday. She was complaining that her dollhouse dolls had no place to potty, so Papa made the outhouse like one would do a real one- he framed it with #poplar, I believe, added #barnwood sides, #cedarshingles… it is a 2 holer. I did the poo and gross things under out of #polymerclay- it even has a #snake in there, but you can't see it without a flashlight. My dad and I stained and tore teeny bits of printed 'newspaper' and added that to the septic system lol. I purchased replica 1:12 1918 and 1897 mini #searscatalogs from #eBay and they're actually READABLE. R made the rotating base and painted it with milk paint. I am currently doing the #landscaping. #miniatures #dollhouses #outhouses #momlife #surprise #present #birthdaypresent #grandfathers #replicas #tinythings #blogger #toddlerlife #childhood #diy #handmade #incredible #dolls #dollhouseminiatures #dollhousefurniture

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I did the ‘poop’ and a snake to go in the 2-holer, out of polymer clay- and we have teeny antique (readable) Sears catalogs in there!

R made the base, it revolves- and painted it with milk paint.

R put the static grass down, but I did the rest of the landscaping and painting and stone crafting out of egg cartons- and I made ‘weeds’… it is a marvelous collaboration! I can’t wait til we surprise her with it later this afternoon!

She’s also getting an ant farm, which she asked for 🙂

Will update more later! xo

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Back in Hospital 4 Days Ago- Out Now

this is getting tediously repetitive- found out the other day that my ovaries were about 10 yrs younger than the rest of me or more- and to not expect menopause for another 10 yrs or so, give or take.

Good thing I’ve no more uterus, or I could have been shooting out more babies far into my dotage!

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My Beautiful Baby before Connor’s Graduation Party on Saturday

If you scroll the instagram, you can see a shot of her with me, not in a hospital gown for once lol.

She is such a lovely child and well behaved and soooo smart!!!!! She will be four on 10 Sept!

She does not stop talking, though. She is a font of information. I adore that. You can have an actual intellectual conversation with this tot and it’s ADORABLE.

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Updates on Last Hospital Visit/Pulmonary Embolisms

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at Kalamazoo Hospital- warts and all, no fuckin’ filter. 

Consolidating everything here:

I had a DaVinci Robotic hysterectomy on 12 July- they kept my ovaries (and doc says I may not go into menopause til near 60, as I apparently have abnormally young bits, yikes)- this surgery cured a lot of pain, but caused even worse. I almost died suddenly from blood clots to both lungs which were directly from the surgery, they surmise.

3 Weeks after my initial diagnosis and my embolisms on both sides are exactly the same as they were on August 8, but have not gotten new ones and they haven’t grown- had chest CT at Bronson last night.

Doc believes the first embolism may have occurred on July 27th, as I had an ‘attack’ that I thought was a newfound food allergy- but consistent with PEs.

However, it doesn’t sound like they’ve gotten any smaller, either…

I need to see a cardiologist at Bronson ASAP and have a Holter monitor done to find out what is going on, but they cannot do that In the ER.

They seem to think that my symptoms are because of this PE and I need to take it easy until the cardiologist fits me with a Holter- 

I feel very frustrated that I am basically supposed to be bedridden. The doctor said it was more important for me to hydrate than to move around at this point

Hospital cut me loose last night with a long acting beta blocker (metoprolol)- I am only supposed to take a fraction. He wants mr to start with half at bedtime, but I’ve played this bp med game before. I will do a quarter tonight.

I am waiting for the referral to go through with the cardiology department at Bronson in Kalamazoo, MI- which is 45 min from me, but a better hospital than the one around the corner.

Until then, I am basically supposed to act like a vegetable and keep hydrated.

My resting heart rate is higher daily, no matter what I do. This morning I woke up to it being 83 on avg while flat on back. I am power hydrating. My old avg per fitbit was 69-70. It goes up every day now this week. If I stand, it shoots up to 120-130 minimum.

Took over a dozen sticks, an u/s, and 1.5 hours to get a 20 port IV into me so I could have a CT. The head mosquito vascular nurse said I broke her streak. I’m a horribly terrible poke. LOL. Basically, I am the micropenis of the vein world. That’s a comforting thought. 

However, probably the nicest hospital experience I’ve had in years. Immediate, prompt care- real eye contact. Immediate info and they didn’t hold us hostage for 3 days and keep trying to drug me with hysterical Victorian woman meds.

There you have it.

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Still recovering or holding steady

Went to the ER again, this time in Kalamazoo. CT shows that both pulmonary embolisms have not grown, though they’ve not shrunk yet. I am having tachycardia (high heart rate), even if I walk across the room- so I am bedridden a lot, which is not cool.

I used to have to run or workout hard to get to 140 beats per minute- now I can do that walking down two flights of stairs to my kitchen. My resting heart rate is around 81 right now, which is INSANE for me.

I was pretty fit right up til 20 min before my clots (for someone with my genetic and age related crap). I ran, I walked, I was a fitbit freak. I don’t do drugs, I don’t smoke, I rarely drink- but when I do, it is with friends and family- I stopped eating carbs until my surgery. I felt amazing til the hysterectomy… ok, well, I AM a little reclusive by nature. I like just being with my kid and doing stuff quietly. I can’t even do that now.

I was right about the robot trepidation, I guess. They suspect that surgery caused this shite.

I am getting referred to a cardiologist to be put on a Holter monitor- and see a blood specialist about my genetic clotting disorder this week.

I am too stubborn to die. I refuse to leave my little girl. I’ve advocated for patients in the past- it is more difficult to advocate for yourself when you are infirm.

This morning I dreamed of my childhood bestie, Roger. He died about 6 yrs ago, suddenly. Had the same thing the actor John Ritter died from, just fell down and died at not even 40. He’d broken up with his boyfriend some time earlier, but had his room mate living with him at the time, who called the paramedics when he heard it happening.

I dreamed I was in Roger’s old bedroom from when we were teens on Red Arrow Highway in Watervliet. It was empty except for a waterbed and a little dog was hiding under the covers, and I pet it- it was a white small dog, not like the ones he owned that I remember. I had to go in his old closet to get a checkbook and get some of his bills paid- and his old closet was far deeper and larger than it had been. He was nowhere to be found, but I talked to the air and told him his bills were paid, then I saw another old friend (not Rog- and I presume still alive) whom I haven’t seen in over 2 decades- but none of my friends in the house could see him and asked me who the hell I was talking to…

The most comforting thing was seeing my other friend, who I believe is still alive, but lives abroad. It was so real. I put on a brave face to most people and really don’t get into the emotional aspects or fears associated with this crap, but it does scare the shit out of me.

People EXPECT me to be the tough bird, the crutch for them… except for this blog or my other writing outlets, I tend to not let people in. I suspect a lot of folks are like me, IDK.

Life, for me, is stop whining and get the fuck on with it, usually.

I almost died this month, suddenly, from bilateral pulmonary embolisms. I don’t want to die. I REFUSE.

Rog, I love you, but I don’t want to see you anytime soon. Maybe in 40 yrs. XO

My other friend/s. I love you all, too- even the ones I haven’t seen or neglected to reach out to for a million years. Thank you for reading this and I am sorry I have not been updating very often.