I tried a little experiment a couple of days ago to see if I could go down from four Neurontin a day to two.
I've done this before, with permission, because I never tinker with anything on my own. I wanted to see if the neuropathy in my feet might be getting better on its own. Also then I would only need to take 14 pills in the morning instead of 15. Big difference, right? I guess that psychologically there is a benefit to taking less medicine, however small the decrease.
Well, it didn't work last time, and it didn't work this time either. Last night I was upstairs, just about to get into bed, when I got an attack of pins and needles in my feet. I thought I might just ignore it, but I know that the last time I did that, the pins and needles quickly turned into sharp knives.
Maddie was all "tucked in" in her bed in my room when I headed for the door to go downstairs where the pills are. She jumped up, thinking (I guess) that there was going to be some late-night action. I told her to stay, went downstairs, found the pill and popped it. The pins and needles diminished pretty quickly. So much for that experiment.
I was supposed to go to Boston today for a checkup and a leisurely session of therapeutic phlebotomy, but the snow put the kibosh on that.
It doesn't matter that much if I reschedule. My last appointment was only a month ago; we scheduled this one close to check on how my liver enzymes are doing with the prednisone dose decreased half a milligram down from 3 mgs. a day. It was such a small decrease that I'm sure the test can wait. Also I feel good and am not worried about anything. (!!!!)
Some friends who know me well warned me yesterday not to go slipping and sliding in the snow. Why they think I might be reckless I have no idea.
Today: Crock pot pot roast, writing, reading, laundry, looking out the wind. Maybe practicing balancing on one foot. Maybe standing up and sitting down in a chair. Maybe my exercise routine in my room. Maybe just lying on the couch.
I started the day by dropping my phone in a parking lot and then stepping on it when my foot slipped on the ice.
Later, the paper bag containing the fruit that I had bought at Atkins slit open, sending raspberries flying while the plastic quart of milk rolled under the car. I got on my hands and knees to collect the raspberries and coax the milk out from under. This may have been comeuppance for once again forgetting to put the reusable bags back in the car after taking the groceries out.
I doubt that better weather will make me less of a butterfingers, but at least I won't have to deal with bad conditions on the ground when me and my things fly here and there.
The first parking lot was at the Literacy Project, where I once again enjoyed my morning as a tutor. I had the less advanced group today. We practiced "echo reading" of a short story, where I read a line and they repeated it. I fashioned my own lesson, writing words on the board that contain the "sh" sound as opposed to the "ch" sound and other things that went over well as long as they could read my bad handwriting. We sang a couple of impromptu lines of songs, such as a couple using the word shine. (I'm sorry to say a little Raffi music came out of me, as in Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun, please shine down on me.) When we did chin, somebody did the little pig saying, "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin." Hey, it might as well be fun.
It was getting colder as it got later in the afternoon and harder to get motivated about walking Maddie. I got so bundled up that I could just hear Randy crying, "I can't put my arms down!"
In other developments, it had gotten warm enough mid-day yesterday for me to hack away pieces of ice with a shovel so that I could toss them away from the front path. Joe has been working hard and is gone all day so that when he gets home it's too cold to attack the ice. I figured I better do it myself. Did I mention that I slipped and fell the other day when bringing a bag of groceries into the house? It was quite a graceful fall, more like a crumpling down onto my knees, and I picked myself up with no problem.
Sometimes I think I would do better if I just walked around on a moving tennis court. I've been told I am playing very well, and indeed, I do feel sure-footed. More than one person has said that given my erratic walking style they don't understand how I can play tennis. I guess it's in my genes. After all, well into his 80s, my father held a cane for balance with one hand while using his racquet to slice and dice. My hero.
Never let a Labrador retriever off the leash under a window at college dining.
That's what I learned today. After yoga, I would have been happy to call it quits, but I thought I would be a good dog person and walk Maddie. The beginning of the path around of the upper lake was plowed, so I was encouraged to go around that lake instead of the paved lower one. Soon enough, the plowed part stopped, though, giving way to a narrow tamped down path. It was good exercise for me, and Maddie loved romping in the show.
She was good until we came up to the end of the path and she went up a little hill to have a snack under the window. It was a long snack. She wouldn't come down, so, yelling at her all the while, I started to climb up the hill…and fell into the snow.
It was a good thing I was wearing my long down coat. I just kind of sat there, with the dog not paying any attention to me. It took me a few minutes to figure out how to straighten myself out. I ain't as nimble as I used to be. When she finally decided to come, I put her on the leash and slid down the hill.
For the rest of the walk, snow melted in my boots.
For my very own New Year, I finally got around to giving up the cavernous Planet Fitness, where I hardly ever went, and switching to the Holyoke Y, where I hope to go more often to take advantage of the classes that are part of the membership fee. I'll probably swim also, but I have to wait for my lips to clear up because I think at this point the water would sting them.
I am having some luck with the steroid ointment that my dermatologist gave me, so there is some progress.
I was going to go to yoga tonight at the Y, but my exercise is consisting of walking from window to window watching the snow fall. I might do a little yoga or stretching on my own, but then again I might just make coffee, read and catch up on things.
Everyone is very friendly and helpful at the Y. The problem is the shortage of machines; there is ONE upright stationary bike, so I will have to go at off times to use it. Some of my Mount Holyoke friends take kick-boxing, and some of my book club friends do spinning, but at this point I would probably kill myself doing either of those.
Yesterday I had an interesting experience on the teaching front, meanwhile. The classroom teacher at the Literacy Project was outt, so I had to conduct the lesson instead of doing my usual small-group or one-on-one tutoring. It was kind of stressful but I made it through, gathering my wits afterwards with a scone and coffee at the Haymarket.
My children took me out to a special birthday dinner last night, complete with a candle in my molten chocolate cake brought over by a waitress singing "Happy birthday."
Little did she know that it was really my fifth birthday, or my re-birthday, which actually fell on Jan. 31 – five years after my last bone marrow transplant.
Five years is the point at which transplant recipients are no more likely to get leukemia than the general population, and at which we can even dare to use the word "cure."
It doesn't seem so long ago that I wasn't sure I would live five days, let alone five years. I have so many things to be grateful for, and all of it thanks to my donor, Denise, who saved my life when I thought I was at the end of the line.
