Such a Libra (and a Scaredy Cat)

I have no shame. Sometimes I have no judgment. Have been saying NO!!!!!! to the blood in the foot shot for several days now. I whined” It’s my gut instinct”, “don’t want to do it” ,  “it’s experimental”,  “it might lead to  infection”…….blah blah blah. I don’t like myself sometimes. Especially when I found myself dialing the medical group I go to and leaving a message for the nurse to get information about the shot. (WHAT??)  who did that Laurie Me or Laurie Her?  Usually, (actually every single time I try to get through to this medical madness group I am on hold, trying to get through to the nurse for about 30 minutes, plus or minus an hour). Today, of course, went through in ten minutes. Am I nuts? Am I just scared of new things? OR have I been burned so many darn times in the last year and a half that i don’t want to take any chances? (That does sound right…). Have no clue, my friends, what I will end up doing. Dr. Vodemart said it would heal faster if I had the shot…am I just desparate (and rightly so) to want to feel better a week earlier? This is an entry in a Libra’s life (not that there is anything wrong with that and it does not apply to all Libra’s, I am sure….).

Have not had any Haloween candy or chocolate yet. Did have shredded wheat and bran cereal with milk, and fruit on the side. Am trying to drink water again. Am trying to not freak out. Let’s see what happens. You know you will be the first to know.

Good luck to us all !!!


I did it. I admit it. I swore I wouldn’t. Lasted 3 days. I broke down. It’s the after Halloween candy bowl, left over from the kids. My daughter had lovingly slipped a package of Whoppers in my night stand table and I looked at her lovingly,  yet knowing my own strong will. My own strong will NOT. I know you are supposed to think about what you eat and why and what for and how come but it just snuck up on me. Ok, damn it, I wanted chocolate. And, it was a small sample pack. 3 measly whoppers but had there been more…….I know I could not have stopped. Even thought I have a torn ligament, I snuck down the stairs, for food because for the first time in a few days I was absolutely starving. I wanted to be a vegetarian so badly, but what could I do when my sister brought half a sub over to my house with love written all over it, and delicately sliced turkey and cheddar and mayo and lettuce on an extremely sesame filled sub. That started my down fall. Ah the slippery slope of food, and then while i was obsessing over whether or not I should have the platelet rich plasma needle stuck in my foot with a big long needle, by Dr. Voldemart (not his real name) I some how ended up downstairs AGAIN  finding my way to pasta, cheese sauce and broccoli. The key ingredient by the way was not the broccoli and I can’t even spell the damn vegetable.  I’m still hungry, I am taking deep breaths but if I were alone, there would be a pizza at my doorstep along with a (calcium rich) chocolate milk shake. Where did cool and collected Me go? Me? the one who was going to be a vegetarian (failed) eat only healthy food (failed) and drink lots of water (failed). So what’s bothering me? I think it’s me.

Fibromyalgia and Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis

I’m being serious now….i know hard to believe but I want to get this information across to all my fellow fibro sufferers. IF you have A THYROID CONDITION…..HASHIMOTO’S THYROITIS an auto immune disease there is hope. I mean it. I’ve been through it. again and again. Here’s the deal: this from Dr. Guru……fibromyalgia, in conjuntion with the diagnosis of Hashimotos Thyroititis can be “a lazy diagnosis.” He is not saying you don’t feel the pain BUT, IN MY CASE, he is treating the underlying cause which is the thyroid autoimmune disease. Therefore, I am on different meds to help my immune system i.e. plaquannel, methotrexate, etc in addition to Cymbalta.   This is important for those of us who have the thyroid illness….and mine got started when menopause kicked in (kicked in? rolled me over and punched me down). Hope it helps.

Oprah’s White Coach-(freudian) Couch

November 4, 2009

Oprah’s white couch, Oprah’s white couch, Oprah’s white couch…..oh sorry, I guess I was in my dream mantra. I see myself sitting next to Oprah on her (duh) white couch. Wow, I have made it! I’m sitting next to Oprah (why I am not sure). But, who cares? IT”S OPRAH, I adore the woman and the show but I do miss the spiritual themes. The fashion accessories to a boring wife-mom like me is just not happening. If she could find me a pair of high heeled shoes (love that red bottom, it smells so expensive!) I’d pretty much give up a lot. Not to mention, I also need that bra intervention, jean intervention, make up intervention (I wear none) and every other intervention you can imagine. I’m not dissing myself but to me, fancy shoes are clogs. Really. If she like my writing, I would kiss the floor of her studio, I really would. I don’t have one of those posters she wants people to make but I have some ideas on my head. Life goals? I never had any but I am a little left back on these concepts and it takes me about 15 years after everyone else understands. Things I want to do in my lifetime? NOT BE humiliated in a pottery studio. I want to be like Demi Moore in Ghost but the only time I took a pottery class, the teacher yelled at me because I was so slow and couldn’t even do the manual snake roll. I quit. Shouldn’t have, I admit but I did. NOT GOOD WITH REJECTION. I also had a life goal of twigs that I thought of last night but have no clue what that represented. Maybe it was a dream?

Had a restless night with my husband, sleeping next to me, and flipping and flopping like a fish could in a net. I shoved, I pushed, I was cranky, and ended up with my torn ligament (guilt) moving to the one little spare room we have.  Tried to sleep there but couldn’t. Needless to say when he got up at 6am -AND he didn’t know I had gone missing (what woman could do that?) I crawled into our bed, now empty and went to sleep until I heard my sister come in the front door to visit me.


the same personality. In my mom’s “mouse fiasco” my sister agreed with her. Not a surprise. I really miss my dad. He has been dead 8 years now and sometimes it still is a complete shock to me. I don’t think it ever really sinks in completely. I adored my dad and we were so similiar, we understood each other with a glance. He would NOT have given away MY MOUSE!! He would have defended that mouse…and me. The good old days. No one can ever say “I know how you feel” if they haven’t lost a parent.  Trust me I know. I still think I see him sometimes on the streets, sometimes I just wake up and shake my head and think but he can’t be dead, how can he be dead. Now Life is before and after. Grief is an all consuming thing, it does get better but does not ever go away entirely. Sorry to be a downer but…….it happens. and…I so want to make my new friend laugh. I think I better wait till next time.

One more bit of personal trivia: my husband said he read my blog last night. He said it showed my sense of humor and that it HAD TYPOS. Yes, my friends, you will see typos and grammatical errors but this is not a book ready for publication it is a blog so bear with me. If I have to think of correcting and revising you would have stilted Laurie and we know, Laurie can’t really be stilted or stifled. Enough of that….people who know me know I have a big mouth, I’m  a Libra and I stick up for justice. Also, I am SUPER protective of those I love, family and friends. THAT won’t change.  More later.

Where is “My Happy Place?” and where is yours?

I just started talking to my friend’s husband on Facebook, nice guy. Out of a job for months already and he’s in a funk, a deep funk. My friend told me that he was in his “happy place” The Zoo on Facebook. Some people Farm (i’ve already been yelled at from a few friends because I refuse to farm) some people have a cafe (i did for 2 days)…..we all need coping mechanisms. I know it sounds like I’m Meredith from Grey’s Anatomy  ( I SO sound like her. Seriously) but it’s true. Sad place, happy place, hibernation place (guilty as charged.)  I listen to a lot of music when I am in a sad place to try and bring me back to a happy place, I sing loud, I sing strong and I sing totally out of key. I don’t care. It makes me happy…done. Now, I did (double gulp) use food  to make me happy and definitely still have to try and not to, but I am now aware of it. And, to impress you, I started to drink water–still hate it–because truly the times I think I am hungry, I just want to eat. I’m not actually hungry so now (no, I do not mean to sound santimonious, trust me) I start sipping the insufferable water from my gray (happy place) new water bottle. It doesn’t take a lot to make me happy, truly.

To those of you who read my earlier blog about my mother: as usual, “she is right, I am wrong” and “don’t use that tone on me even if it is on email, I’m still your mother.”  Oy.

Thank you for my first comment! it made my day……..

because today did not start out well. get this: i have a very close (older woman) friend, like a faux aunt who is dying from terminal cancer. I love her and have always been close to her. I talk to her (the little she can speak) as often as she wants to. even though I am 53 and technically a grown up I can still be shy and embarassed sometimes.  I’m also VERY sensitive. My mother (not the sensitive type) is good friends with this woman, I will call Mimi. I thought it was tacky for me to ask for something to remember her by so my mom did it for me. Plus for mom. I was grateful. Yesterday my mother told me that a small box “of junk” was delivered to her from Mimi’s brother for me. If that wasn’t bad enough get this: ok u really won’t believe me but try: today my mother’s carpenter’s daughter (“If I was a carpenter and you were my daughter…….”) visited my mother. My mother phoned to tell me that she had given one of the pieces (to her junk) to the little girl. I said “what? you gave something away that was meant for me”? She said yes, ” it was a mouse and I know you don’t like mice so I gave it away.”  I’m asking you gall or no gall. Had she not told me about it I would have never known about the stupid fake mouse. But to tell me and give it away before I even had it????  Your thoughts, please.  Not that I hold a grudge……(ok I do) but this is the same woman who gave birth to me, a preemie AND told me that she didn’t come  visit me ONCE while I was in the hospital for 4 weeks after I was born. Who does that? And, if you do it, why tell the story to your sensitive daughter. I’m feeling this in my stomach and that is not good. Means i’m still fuming….mother-daughter relationships are tough sometimes, luckily not with me and my 15 year old (yet).

Today i learned (I think) how to scan photos to Facebook. My son has tried to teach me for years. This time I wrote every single step down–is he kidding it’s over 30 steps but I did it.  Way out of my inept computer brain comfort zone.

Am still on bed rest –NO, not pregnancy. Torn ligament in my foot. Hard to be a mom and not do things.  Luckily my kids are older, 15 and 17. My son drives so that is a big help, except for when HE went to some GameStop store to put a deposit on some horrific game that is coming out…

to the lovely woman who wrote me my first comment, thanks again. I still don’t know how to work  THIS SITE -i’m brand new, but Tweeting might just put me over the edge. as you can tell, I am not comfortable with anything that came after my electric typewriter and white out. Those were the days………

This is Ridiculous

Nov. 2nd pm

I finally get this on a “real, working blog” and I’m scared to death. “I have writer’s block” I say to myself but even I know that is utter and total bullshit. It’s fear. I’m not sure of what though. It is hard for me to even write now, my stomach is clenched but I am trying not to care. Trying to push past it all and keep writing. It doesn’t take Freud to understand that this is no coincidence. Vulnerability? Ridicule? AH, or NO response. Hmm, writing for myself was effortless, I guess i should only concentrate on that. AND, it is a blog, my blog to talk or kvetch or gossip or share anything I want. I will not give up. But I may throw up.

I told my daughter, who is a vegetarian, that I will no longer eat Jello…I never knew what went IN to Jello and now that I know, it’s off my list. It’s interesting that I haven’t eaten meat for about a week and i don’t miss it (yet.) So I am not claiming one thing or another just yet but eating good, healthy, food.  Tonight (I so love food) I had lentil soup, some veggie pizza (ok, yes there was cheese but I’m NOT a vegan to be at all. Had a craving for dried apricots( at least it’s not for 2 bowls of ice cream with caramel and chocolate sauce, whipped cream and almonds) instead I had grapes and tasteless raspberries and blackberries. Why did I go into that much detail about my fantasy dessert? Definitely not a wise thing to do…yum, I love food, most all food (except for fish) and I’m trying to lose some weight. I know, Oprah said it’s a “lifestyle change” and as much as I love and adore Oprah, that Texas fair would not be on Bob Green’s list (not that we trust HIM anymore ). Fried butter? Really? UGH, i thought until Oprah described it like a delicate roll with butter. Oh dear Lord, that does sound like heaven. I love the fact that both Gayle and Oprah would not budge with their dessert winners!  I’m with Oprah on this one, lemon cake!  As a Libra that is my life. I can’t decide between one or two things, I buy them both or not at all. It’s not easy being a sensitive Libra but we really are nice people. Decision making? Not so good!

Random thought….Brothers & Sisters TV show

Who would you like to be if you were part of the WALKER family. At the moment, I would say Sarah and we all know why. Yes. Luke. Magnificent. I feel like a teenager as my friend and I giggle about how handsome he is. My teenagers are mortified that I have a “crush.” I wouldn’t call it a crush as much as an admiration of incredible beauty. Yes, this man is beautiful. Think of it like a picture you see at the museum….ok, i don’t buy it either. Sigh.

Laurie’s Down on her Luck aka Hibernation

Day one of my blog. I’m a 53 year old married woman and mom, I have two teenagers in High School and an almost 8 year old dog, named Callie. Yesterday, which should be the beginning of my woeful journey actually is not. Yesterday was just another installment of Laurie’s Down on her Luck. That started a long time ago. Probably since the age of 50 when menopause struck. Yes, Struck. It didn’t start or end, it interrupted the life as I had known it. Hot flashes, hysteria, sweats, irritability, tears? NO problem. Thanks to the almighty Prozac which I have been on for 5 years for serious worrying problems. Is it safe to call it the OCD of worrying? That was me. Prozac helped me with a quite easy journey into menopause and out. I had no complaints. I also had no clue what would start after that.

A seemingly easy menopause, not care free but not suffering like many of my friends. However, it attacked my body ferociously, like the way I attack Funfetti cupcakes with vanilla frosting. You understand.

Men-o-pause (and who came up with THAT name) kick-started a revolution on my body or perhaps more accurately To my body that is still not well. I write to you after a year and a half (and still going) with various illnesses, ailments and psychological trauma.

I was a fairly common place looking female, curly brown hair, funky pink glasses, green eyes ( my best feature). 5’4 inches, still looked good in a pair of jeans, v-neck long cotton Tee and reliable sneakers or clogs (if I wanted to dress up.) Not a hippie but certainly no fashion plate either.
My family and I live in this tony little town up on a hill where we half belong and half don’t. I am not a super mom, I don’t have a nanny, I stayed home with my kids, we lived on one salary, and had a tiny house in a sweet section of our neighborhood. The children played in the streets together, bicycles (with helmets), scooters, Razors (who didn’t buy their kid a stupid Razor?). Mayberry RFD meets The Cleavers. You get it.

When mansion moms came to visit they always described our house as “cozy”, “sweet” and “so great that you have neighbors right next to you on both sides!!!!” All of us in the neighborhood knew we were in the poor section of town but we didn’t really care. Much.
My son was in second grade when he brought home a “friend” from school. My son had just gotten new, Ikea blue furniture and he was thrilled. His so called bastard “friend” had taken one look at my son’s modest room and said to him: “wow, I knew your house was gonna be bad but I didn’t imagine anything THIS bad.” My son’s upset face lingers in my mind, yes, I do hold a grudge and I will forever hate this boy.
I truly do still hate this brat and I regret not calling his mother, but rumor had it she was a major bitch, one that I didn’t want to tangle with. I shouldn’t have listened.I should have called, my mistake entirely. That was then. This is now. I still hate him and i hate her and any living relatives that they may have.

I digress.

After going through menopause and yes, I did buy Christiane Northrups The Meaning of Menopause (what meaning?) it did very little for me and for my sister. We referred to the book as “The Bible” sharing it amongst the two of us (I paid)

The illnesses that followed:

During a routine check-up my internist (The Ice Princess) found that my thyroid level was underactive. YAHOO, I screamed, FABULOUS, I chortled. I finally inherited the thyroid disease that both my sister and mom had. I had been hoping for this for years. Does the term “be careful what you wish for” sound familiar? I had imagined myself eating DD jelly doughnuts (get that I have a sweet tooth?), mayo packed tuna (only white, never light) sandwiches with chips or fries on the side, sipping a vanilla-chocolate-strawberry (pick one or all) milkshake while shedding pounds. Never happened.

To make a long story short, my thyroid did not make me lose ANY weight but made me feel achy, tired, brain-fogged and wretched for months.
My “Ice Princess Dr.” left me weeping in the examining room while she brusquely left the room saying and I quote” There’s nothing left for me to do, nothing is wrong.” (I really DO NEED to find a new internist). She referred me to an angry looking Rheumatologist “in the group” who took one look at me and said “did anyone ever tell you, you had scoliosis? WHAT? It had been discovered that I didn’t have just any ordinary thyroid disease but one called Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, an auto- immune disease. The Rheumatologist, said I was fine, didn’t have arthritis and “oh by the way did you know that once you have an auto-immune disease you leave yourself WIDE open to getting other auto-immune illnesses? Gee thanks, troll, I hadn’t known that. Those were her loving farewell words. continue tomorrow!!!

Day 2 Halloween aka Boo (Hoo) Day
To wrap up the past, which is still by and large, the present, here’s what happens next: Ice Princess was revisited once or twice more, NOTHING “she can do…blah blah blah” eventually found a lovely Rheumatologist at another medical center. She was lovely and I referred to her always as “the lovely .Dr..Jane Doe”. She diagnosed me with Fibromyalgia (FIBRO what?) after pressing on all my pressure points and me screaming my head off. She said: ” i believe you have been misdiagnosed.” I am sure you have Fibromyalgia. YEAH, a diagnosis!!!! That was a great find, only bad part: NO CURE. “But we manage it” she said and I will make you much better. I believed, oh yes, I did believe.
And she did try, she added Cymbalta and this or that, we played chem warfare, her not wanting to call my shrink, my shrink, certainly, not wanting to stoop so low as to call Her. Great. For months I believed, but the pain, fatigue in all my muscles and joints, in every inch of my chubby body still HURT. I was a 95 year old living in practically a 95 year old’s body. I was weak, I was tired, I felt like I had the flu, every day, every hour…..this went on for months. Went back to Dr. Lovely and she said “this is all I can do, I can do nothing more.” Time to (as my first infertility Dr. called it,” to bring in the big guns.”

I had heard about Dr. GS from my sister, her friend Elizabeth and my sister’s husband’s friend too. To me, it sounded like he was the wizard of Oz. Really. I was actually intimidated to meet him and while his bedside manner was something to be desired (or I just didn’t like to hear the truth) he said that Fibromyalgia was a lazy diagnosis. (This being a little awkward since Dr. Lovely had trained under the new Dr. Guru.) His recommendation: treat the underlying disease which is the Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis. Treat the auto immune disease by taking: Plaquannel, Methotrexate (made me sick as a dog) eliminating some of my meds, adding even more. It was hard to know WHAT I was feeling anymore but he made me chart my course, every day..on a scale of 1-10, what was I? ! Being in “deep shit” as my dear friend and honorable aunt called it, 10 being: energetic tob e doing the macarena on a cruise ship for hours. OK, my metaphors but you get the drift. Ha Ha, the drift, get it, cruise, drift, oh never mind I love to amuse MYSELF with my own jokes, something my husband and my kids DO NOT APPRECIATE. I don’t care. If I think something is funny, I will howl and they will not extinguish what funny bone laughter I still have left in my body. Spirit was high around this time thinking that Dr. G was, indeed, a genius.However, I still hold against him that he sent a letter to the Ice Princess and every Dr. I had ever known referring to me as a 52 year old OVERWEIGHT female. OK, I know it was true but it sounded horrid. I mean really. My cholesterol was also sky high and he said no insurance company would ever cover me in this unhealthy state. Ouch. I had to have a heart check up (enter The Cardiologist) and started on a cholesterol lowering pill. Add ANOTHER Pill why don’t you? Been there, done that. Dr. Guru also suggested, several tlmes,) that I start on HRT (hormone replacement therapy) that , it just so happens, his “significant other” believed in it and was an expert on it and she was a gynecologist, specializing in It. I will not go, I will not see, I will not put all those chemicals ln me.” I chanted this every chance I could. After 3 more months of feeling crappy, I did go in, I did see her, I did, I did, but I will not let her talk me into it. “NOTHING SHORT OF A MIRACLE WILL GET ME TO TRY THIS” I BOASTED. But I went in anyway, asking G-d and my deceased father (who I miss so much) for guidance and insight. The HRT Dr. walked in, i sat in THE Defiant pose, ready to challenge every single thing she was going to suggest–I was prepared, in advance. Five minutes of formal talk, me on guard, giving her the evil stare, she stops for a minute. “Where did you grow up” she asked. I told her. Her face freezes over, (like it had been botoxed to look like a toaster but I knew it hadn’t, it was just SO SUDDEN……she leans back in her Dr. chair (btw, NOT a good idea to take your shoes off during a consultation when your patients can see your icky stockings) and said, “do you have an older sister? Huh? WHAT?? Now it was my turn to freeze and I said cautiously……”yes….why?” At which point she leans forward and her voice, which had been a monotone monologue turns into one of great childhood delight and absolute exuberant… “I’m Susie Shapiro (not her real name) and I grew up with you, I was great friends with your sister” and so she was. This was a teenager I remember being in our childhood apartment, this was someone I KNEW. My prayer, my only condition of considering HRT had been answered. Thank you Dad, Thank you G-d. Squirt me up!!! And it was then that I started HRT because I believe in things happening for a reason, that there are NO coincidences. I said nothing short of a miracle would get me to take HRT. Asked and answered. I began the next day.

November 1, 2009
My teenagers do not remember that I was the one who made their very own home-made (ok Kraft slices) cheese sauce. They called it Daddy’s cheese sauce the other day. He copied me. They think it was him and they don’t “remember” me making it. This is what I don’t want:
the kids to only remember me being sick, tired, broken bones, fibromyalgia, hashimotos….you get the drift. I made sure to tell them that I had created the delish dish but even my husband doesn’t remember MY invention. This stinks. To appease me, my husband said “ok, I’ll put on your gravestone “She created the cheese sauce.” I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry. I am continuing to try and breathe deeply and have gone from hibernation in status to “getting centered.” For dinner I had brown rice, vegies and a hard boiled egg, usually served with Tamari sauce but we only had soy. I’m still on my back and go only to the bathroom. I know that this is the answer, that THIS, is what Oprah has been talking about. You get knocked on the head once, you should pay attention. I’ve been knocked down, run over, hemoraged and am in traction…..but I FINALLY know, I need to change my eating habits and other slovenly ways. Am only eating “clean foods” now and trying to drink water. I will never like that but at least I am doing it. “You are what you eat?” for once…good. Haven’t looked at the Halloween candy,
although my daughter put my very favorite (yum, Whoppers)in my bed stand table. I plan to throw it away, on the other hand, I could leave it awhile and see what happens.

I can’t DO moderation,(yeah, yeah Bob Green, I know, I know) I’m an all or nothing kind of gal. Oh, and what’s up with the “Good Life” products? I’ve been buying them faithfully and all of a sudden I hear that they are NOT all that healthy? HOW ARE WE, THE PEOPLE, SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE IN ANYTHING OR KNOW WHAT TO BELIEVE IN? I rest my case –I really would have been a great lawyer.

So, back to me trying to be Zen-like or just a little not me-like:
Still not talking on the phone which is surprisingly calm and lovely. Mom came to visit today and my sister is coming on Wednesday, that’s it for visitors. Waited till at night to write in this, but at least I did do it.
Haven’t taken any daily medications for today but it’s ok, I can miss a day. My stomach feels a little funny, don’t know if it’s just rocking and rolling from the excitement of healthy food or if it’s begging me for a PB & J sandwich with a glass of milk. Not yet. I hobbled to the shower this morning and it felt good to stand (?) under the hot water. Can’t exercise but can’t say I am not thrilled with that. Being able to WALK without pain will be my goal. To sleep a good night’s sleep (I hate these extra hour/fewer hour days) never could quite get the concept of “losing or gaining” an hour. But that’s just me. Anyone else unclear on the concept? Don’t be ashamed we should stand together with great pride!

November 2, 2009
Torn, (ligament) bruised. Broken (spirit) maybe I’ve turned a corner, or at least turned to the side. Centering Myself. Getting rid of the old
the past, the bad, unhealthy habits, food, no exercise, too much worry. Replace Fear with Faith. (thanks R.C.) A new beginning?
I love not talking on the phone or emailing just to email. Still love tv and movies, not gonna lie. Food is no longer the main focus of my world. I do
believe that G-D has been telling me all these thighs(HA Freudian slip) things for almost 2 years. I’m starting to get it. Only starting but it’s better than nothing. I’m even going to ask my husband for help with this computer stuff. I HATE asking for help, getting embarrassed and feeling foolish but I have to do it. I’m taking a small leap (ok, pinkie toe step–pinkie toe, the only didget that is still normal, and putting myself out there. I feel nauseous. I decide not to care. Gulp. Over to my husband…..