My mother is epileptic; she has been since i was 11. The term
epilepsy has a terrible connotation from the olden days when people who fell down and shook were locked away in sanitariums and shunned; we have all had to learn over the years how to get over that, especially mommy who remembers them there olden days. In reality
epilepsy is a term that loosely defines many conditions that involve seizures. Mom's is from a brain chemical imbalance due to very localized brain damage from a blow to the head on a girl scout camping trip. It is controlled by medication and she lives a pretty normal life, except that she really has to watch getting too tired or stressed out cause if her chemistry goes out of whack she seizes. She has petite mal seizures which means she doesn't convulse or throth, instead she becomes completely unresponsive and loses muscle strength. It is upsetting to witness cause one minute she is my mommy and the next there is no one behind her eyes. She hasn't had any serious incidents in 6-9 years (
we can't agree on the exact time length) until yesterday.
15 minutes before my new employee was due to arrive (
can i get a whoop-whoop for new team member Carrie? now i'm only 1.5 people down) i get the call that mom is in the hospital. I managed to get a hold of her expecting to have her be a little disoriented and pissed off that her roommate called 911. I was horrified that she was confused, incoherent and barely knew what was going on around her; she described things that weren't at all like what we are used to experiencing. It really seemed like she might have had a stroke.
Terrified doesn't begin to describe me yesterday.
Testing and a bit of time later we know that it probably was a series of grand mal seizures (
which she's never had before) brought on by a medication imbalance.
How is that possible? you ask.
She's so vigilant with her medication, you point out. Yes, yes she is. Turns out that the last set of medication she got was generic.
But generic drugs are the same as the name brands, you say. That's what i said to her neurologist last night. His response "That's not always true, especially with anti-convulsives."
?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!
So let me get this straight: the generic equivalent of Claritin is the same even though if it wasn't the worst thing that could happen would be scratchy eyes, runny nose and congestion, but the generic equivalent of Lamectal (
sp?) ISN'T really equivalent even though the worst thing that could happen would be someone has a seizure while driving, killing themselves and a busload of nuns and puppies?
How is this allowable???? How is this okay???? How is it that we didn't know about this????
What if my mommy didn't have a roommate? What if she hadn't been at home? What if she had been operating heavy machinery?
It is scary enough knowing that your body doesn't work right on its own, but how can any of us be at ease when the medication we rely on to LIVE might not be right?!?
Do these drug companies know how dangerous seizures can be? Do they know how much 2 days in the hospital costs? Do they have ANY IDEA how long it will take her to fully recover from this episode? Do they understand how hard she has worked to get back to a normal life after her breakup with my dad? Do they have any clue how demoralizing this is for all involved? Do they just not care?
I am thankful that it wasn't worse. I'm thankful this isn't some new affliction (
we hope and pray). I am thankful that this can probably be fixed relatively easily. I am thankful that there doesn't appear to be any permanent damage (
that we can detect, yet).
But I am still pissed : so overwhelmingly pissed that i don't really know what to do with all of this anger. I really don't know what to do. I want to scream. I want to break things. I'm so damned angry.
Instead i will be a rational adult; i will go to the gym to sweat out some of the negativity, eat something comforting and bad for me and start researching this to see if i can make a positive difference.
(
but i really want to punch something)
What? Never seen a tiny table before?
Can't you people just let us eat our PB&Js in peace?
Yet another reason i love, love, love my team - this was new team member Carrie's first day on the road and when AJ plopped himself down at this miniature picnic table she didn't hesitate to join him. And no one even blinks when my pink camera shows up at some point every day. These are people who are happy to let their freak flag fly.
Yes, my friends, those are piles of snow. In the suburbs. In Maryland. In November. When it was 70. Obviously we had to go investigate. The piles were behind this building:
Guess they had to clean out the zamboni someplace!
The team pumpkin was designed by AJ and executed by Miriam; i was really happy with our one-eyed monster (shown after carving and on display in the lobby with AJ (i think he's trying to look like the punkin) and Lindsey)
Punkins were places all around the lobby and the submissions were roped off with a ballot box for the visitors pick their favorite.
The stacked skeleton [C] was the winner. I thought the planetarium's submission [B] was really cute and i super-liked the hedgehog (cause who doesn't love hedgehogs) and the portrait of the kid with their hair standing up on the VanDeGraaff generator.
Or make the studio look like this?
Or make the kitchen looks like this?
Okay the kitchen always looks like that, but what could have caused all of the rest of this mayhem? Preparations for the following announcement:
Ladies and Gentlemen, I have opened an Etsy Shop!
For any who might not know, Etsy is an on-line marketplace where all of the items are either handmade, vintage or supplies to make handmade items. It is an amazing place where items range from scrapbooking crafts to high art. I love to just surf around and be inspired by the talent and creativity.
In fact, I have been working on the logistics and my courage for a year. I established the shop name and location 54 weeks ago and have been slowly creating, researching, designing, photographing and writing in preparation for this day. [i mean, let's not rush into anything!] I am not expecting to make money at this venture, but i wanted to challenge myself; I sorta wanted to prove to myself that i could do it. It also takes care of New Year's Resolution #4 "Put my work up for sale."
I have started small with 26 cards sets that range from very basic to Niki-complicated
It may not look like much, but that's 135 handmade cards!
but I intend to add individual cards, handmade paper, cool found objects and jewelry. Someday i might even be brave enough to put some of my assemblage pieces up for sale.
The store is called NikCo after the imaginary company i had for years that used to send presents to Rickki. It was convenient to blame lateness on the warehouse staff and to "custom order" things for her from the catalogue. Hey Rea- who woulda thought that 20 years later you really could order something from NikCo?
I need to be sure to thank my graphic designer in California for my bitchin' logo,
my tech support in Texas for his invaluable research and counsel and my graphic support over in the corner (always hire people smarter and more talented than you, people).
Okay, enough of me blathering, go check out NikCo and then tell your friends, family and people on the street to go there as well!
YIPPEE!!!!!!!
and then spent 10 minutes looking for the plastic insects and skeletons. I'm sure i bought them; in fact, i compared 3 different packages until i found exactly the ones i wanted. Where did they go? I looked and looked, but never found them. Oh well. This season's favorite find was:
Mr. Yummy Mummy Gummies - just try to say it without smiling!
First the glasses were beribboned with thick orange grosgrain ($1 for 4 yards - i love you, Dollar Tree) and thin black satin ; then I added a different painted Halloween sun catcher for each person:
I'm a little alarmed by this fella.
All of the loot was divided into 6 piles making sure that everyone got the same amount of stuff and that there was a variety of colors and flavors in each pile - pixie sticks, lollipops, crackle punkins, caramel eyes, sweet tarts, fizzy pops, jolly ranchers, sixlets, chocolate eyes, gummi mummies, pencils, rings, creepy hands and raisins (they're nature's candy, ya know). Then it all got layered into the glasses:
It didn't take a lot of money or time, but i hope it is a nice surprise my overworked, underpaid staff!
Trick or Treat!
that help with clotting.
They can be harvested from healthy blood and given to cancer patients, but they have a terrible shelf-life out of the body : only 5 days.
On Saturday I went and had my first session of platelet apheresis where whole blood is taken from one arm and run through this machine,
which can separate the blood into it's component parts: plasma, red blood cells, white blood cells and platelets. The red and white blood cells and most of the plasma is then combined with an anti-coagulant and put back into your other arm. A donor can be on the machine for up to an hour and a half which will yield up to five units of platelets.
Since it was my first time they only left me on the machine for 35 minutes to see how well i could tolerate the anti-coagulant and to get enough to calculate my platelet count. Next time they will know exactly how many units they can harvest from me.
The process was far less gruesome than it sounds. They have you suck on some fruity Tums to offset calcium loss (that's what platelets are made of), cover you up with thick warm blankets in case you get cold (the blood going back into your body isn't 98 degrees anymore) and set you up with a personal DVD player (Russell and I spent some quality time in Ancient Rome). Holding both arms completely still was a bit tough, but it was harder not to nod off cause they make sure you are so comfortable. The worst part was the squeezing on my donating arm. Imagine this: grab a squishy stress ball (planet, heart, zebra, whatever you have at your desk), hold it in your left hand and squeeze, count to 2 and squeeze again, repeat for 35 minutes. My fingers fell asleep at one point and i had to figure out how to wiggle them enough to wake them up without moving my arm or dropping the ball and while still squeezing. Yikes.
My receiving arm was a little sore and was rocking a small, hard hematoma (blood pool) which has turned into a lovely bruise, but overall it wasn't too bad. In fact, I am a bit proud that a girl who used to be hysterically afraid of needles laid quietly for 40 minutes with not one, but two needles in her.
In the last few days i have related the story to several people who asked me if i got paid for my platelets. Apparently there are places that will buy your platelets! Who knew? The Red Cross Donation Center is definitely not one of those places; though i did get some cookies. I will go back, though probably not every two weeks, which is how often you can donate platelets. And for those of you who are wondering what they look like, here are my platelets (lower right corner)and some of my plasma (center) they kept to mix with them:
