The Circus Hits Rock Bottom

Hubsy had been in distress for weeks. At first we thought it was because of the enormous amount of stress he was under at work. I won't go into all that right now because it hardly matters at this point. (Insert description of disgusting symptoms, that Hubsy would rather I not post, here).

We had no choice but to rush him to the "franchise clinic" that I mentioned in previous posts, which gave him some meds and excused him from work. After a few days with little relief, he and Punkin (who was still suffering the effects of a month long flu) went for the long trek to our family practice. (I had mentioned this in my previous post). The practitioner he saw was concerned about his symptoms and felt that enough had been enough.

You see, Hubsy has had previous bouts of this sort of thing. He's had multiple colonoscopies, He's spent time in the hospital for ulcerative colitis and diverticulitis. Like his back troubles, it's been an ongoing thing, but for some reason, now it's getting worse. Doc gave him the typical meds, and ordered lots of lab tests.

A week later, at the re-check, his symptoms were not improving. After consulting with the Head Doc of the practice, they immediately admitted him to the hospital. Go Directly to the 3rd floor... Do not pass the ER... do not pay the $300 co-pay. (We'll bill ya later).

Three days and two nights at the luxurious Hotel Hospital included bags and bags of fluids and multitudes of medications. A cute little student vampire with violet hair emptied two thirds of his blood into an entire tray of little glass vials. But I guess that was appropriate for Halloween night.

The diagnosis was Crohn's Disease. At least they're 99% sure it is. The 1% supposes that it could be ulcerative colitis. To-MAY-to ... To-MAH-to. All that's left to do now is endure a couple of endoscopic procedures to know for sure, and to assess the extent of the damage to his gut.

Hmm, what else? Oh yeah... and they fired him from work within a week after leaving the hospital. We now have zero income, and will be losing our health insurance in about two weeks.

We are now in the process of filing for several social service programs. We do not yet know if Hubsy will ever be able to return to the blue collar working world. Right now it's a waiting game.

And like Tom Petty has always taught us "The waaaaait-ing is the hardest part".  

...We Would Have No Luck At All

This post is actually the second part to my previous post "If It Weren't For Bad Luck", in which I began the story of our downward spiral ever since we've moved to this North Raleigh town. The previous post took place in the Spring. When Summer arrived, the elevator dropped again.

Hubsy became very ill and returned to the "franchise clinic" for a diagnosis of Pneumonia. "Here's some meds, and don't work for a few days". Of course, this time he didn't stay out for long. Hubsy is a trooper and if he can walk, he'll run.

Oh, and in case you've forgotten, throughout the last six months I have continued to suffer through all of my Bipolar symptoms. That hasn't stopped. I wasn't suddenly cured just because there were more important things going on. Although I did go through a very heavy depressive cycle, I've mostly remained in a mixed state, with an increasing number of panic attacks, and the return of debilitating agoraphobia. But hold your horses. Let's not get too far into that here, because no doubt there will be a separate post about that later, on my personal page.

The elevator stabilized in July, and we began desperately trying to pry those doors apart. Hubsy was able to land temporary jobs for The Punkin and The Boy as Marketing Assistants for his own boss. They were out there, sign spinning, during some of the hottest days of the year! Then he helped me land the job as their Social Media Manager. I created a blog for them. I created new profiles and social pages, as their previous ones had been hi-jacked by prior disgruntled employees. I made frequent posts on their behalf and even took my own photos for their use. After a few weeks, Punkin left the property to pursue another job opportunity, but The Boy stayed on, spinning signs and acting as an office assistant, and Hubs picked up some overtime.

Yes, the Summer blessed us with the ability to catch up on all of the bills, and we even bought a used washer and dryer! You see, for the four months prior, we had been sneaking around, doing laundry at apartment communities because we couldn't afford the laundromat, and occasionally doing a few loads of "bathtub laundry". We bought school clothes for The Princess, since she was outgrowing everything; and a few new pieces for my closet, since everything was outgrowing me!

By the end of August, the extra income was fading away, but little did we know that the elevator was gearing up for another drop. I won't go into detail, for the sake of others, but let's just say that a couple of employees grew balls the size of Rocky Mountain Boulders... Management suddenly went deaf, dumb, and blind... and the office politics was thicker than the nation's capital. Having to travel out of town for the death of a family member in September was almost a welcomed escape. If only Punkin and I hadn't brought back a viral souvenir that had us both laid up for a month! I recovered, Punkin did not.

The end of October witnessed the slow death of our refrigerator/freezer. Two visits from the tech and new parts installed couldn't save it. Of course, this had to occur right after a visit to the grocery store. We lost about $200 worth of meat, dairy, and questionable items. You know, when in doubt, throw it out. We could not be reimbursed by management, or renter's insurance. 

So, early November had Hubsy and Punkin both traveling to see our family doctor. Punkin got meds and is recovering nicely. My dear Hubsy... not so much.

If It Weren't For Bad Luck...

When last we met, I was gushing about our wonderful new house. We were feeling "top floor" at the time, but it turns out that our move was more like stepping into an elevator, from the "top floor", only to find that it is swinging precariously from a single frayed wire. Occasionally the box unexpectedly plummets, just a few floors at a time. 

Two days after our big move, The Boy's motor scooter was stolen from our driveway. Although it was recovered by the police only one street over, it had been totaled, and the carburetor was missing. (Phoey on you, Thieves, because the carburetor was already busted!). Needless to say, the scooter was not insured, as it is not required by our state.

Within two weeks of settling in, I had to rescue my daughter from a dime sized ceiling spider. When the little bugger unexpectedly took the upper hand, I freaked out and fell backward off of the ladder. Luckily I landed firmly on my right foot ... which promptly twisted to the side and snapped in the middle. Being that we already have a nice stack of unpaid medical bills in the filing cabinet, I did not go to the doctor. I also did not get a chance to rest and heal, as my lovely children misinterpreted the event as vacation. They practically celebrated the temporary reprieve from all of their chores, which includes keeping the pets alive, and never gave thought to picking up my slack. My foot is now permanently damaged, and I sometimes fall into a limp. Oh well, such is life. I actually found myself grateful for the life experience.

Just about two weeks after my own accident, Hubsy's back went out, which it has done about twice a year for fifteen years, as the result of a car accident. It's almost quite routine; his back goes into spasms and stiffens, he goes to the doctor, "Here's some meds, don't work for a few days.", and it's done. This time was a little bit different. As we have not yet found a new local family doctor, Hubsy went to the "franchise clinic" located less than a mile from our home, at three times the copay of our family doctor (and of course another bill that comes later). This doctor was amazed that no other doctor had thought to X-Ray his spine since we completed the whole joke of a court case fifteen years ago. So, off to the specialist (at twice the copay) for an MRI, which reveals that he has a severely herniated disk. "Here's some meds, and don't work for a few days." Hubsy returns to the specialist to begin a treatment regimen that may, or may not, rid him of pain. With the assurance that insurance would cover it, he took the first shot. Come to find out, even with insurance, the treatments are $300 a pop. "Thank you, Doctor, it's been nice knowing you. I'll be expecting your bill." 

For a while, the proverbial elevator seemed to stabilize. Even though Punkin and I were no longer babysitting, my son had given up his job to relocate with us, and Hubs had missed a bit of work, we managed to keep the lights on, the water flowing. and the rent paid (among other bills of course), even if everything was either a month behind, or at least a few weeks late. Then again, we were pretty hungry. I dropped two sizes trying to make sure that the kids weren't hurting.

Thank the Universe for friendly neighbors who bring fresh laid eggs, and those who bring fresh garden veggies, and Aunts who surprise us with school supply money. And don't forget, it was throughout this time that we were able to enjoy and appreciate all of the things that I had listed in my previous post, The House That Keeps On Giving. We thought "maybe, the elevator will remain stable, And maybe we could pry open the doors. And then maybe we could find the up-escalator, or at least a set of stairs.

Morton's Monday (When It Rains It Pours)

Since the end of March, we've been dealing with Punkin's behavioral issues, and actually making some headway.  It may be baby steps, but it's progress nonetheless, and I'm grateful for it.  But it seems to be the only progress our family has been making for the last few months.

Just the other day, a friend was telling us that ever since tax time, she's barely been able to make ends meet, and that is just not like the typical year.  I had to agree with her.  Our typical tax refunds usually grant us the ability to pay all of our monthly bill balances to zero, make a few loan payments, make one larger than normal purchase (usually a needed household item), treat ourselves to an Olive Garden dinner, and have enough to put away for our annual trip to visit family in Baltimore.  This year was somehow different.  We caught up on our balances, and bought one large ticket item (new bed sets for my girls, that I found on Craigslist).  There's no money for summer vacation, and the loans are still outstanding.

It certainly doesn't help that Hubsy's job completely cut out his overtime, having him take days off to cover the extra hours that he ended up having to put in.  It doesn't help that our Princess was just given a third prescription for her struggle with Turner Syndrome, and our insurance company doesn't cover half of all the lab work, and none of OTC health products she needs.  It doesn't help that our energy costs in this terribly inefficient rental keep going up.  The weather patterns this year are partially to blame, as we've had to jump straight from the heat to the air conditioner... I never got that yearly Springtime opportunity to shut the whole system down for a while.  As a new homeschooling mom, I've had to make larger home/office supply purchases.  Food costs have been steadily rising, and my local store has just not been promoting the awesome sales that they used to.  So, as I think most blue collar American families have been, we have been struggling.

This morning, as soon as Hubsy clocked in to work, the regional supervisor handed him his hat, and gave him "the boot".  I won't even go into how unexpected it was because Hubsy is the best damned Maintenance Supervisor they've ever seen, and I have witnesses.  I won't talk about how this is the worst possible time for that property to lose the only person who knows what's going on with all the vendor changes and construction contractors.  I won't talk about how he was retained on this property because of his exemplary skills, through the sale of the property and two management changes.  All I can say is that none of the other property employees or residents, and countless contractors and professional connections can hardly believe that my Hubsy was the one to get canned, and not the people who are actually responsible for any aesthetic shortfalls the building may have suffered.  In short... the world seems to have turned upside down overnight.

Yeah, we're angry and asking a lot of "why" questions to the rain clouds as they glide overhead and wring themselves out on our faces (literally, it's been raining for three days).  But I really hate to complain.  These things are happening to hundreds of American families every day, and we're no different.  But there has to be reason.  I can't begin to guess what it is, but hey, that's the way the Universe works.

...and now I've got some stranger (friend of a friend) insulting me on Facebook because I disagreed with his opinion on the nutrition and safety of genetically modified food.  Dude, really?

The Real Life Friends & Family Plan

Friends and Family.  It's so nice when these two elements of your life can combine so beautifully, and create an experience that no phone company calling plan can compete with.  We invited our friends, Vegas and Malibu, and my Punkin invited her best friend, Bunny, to join our circus for a day out of town.

anybody got to go?

Although the day got off to a late start, we managed to make the drive to Wilmington interesting.  Hubsy and I led the way, while Vegas and Malibu played surrogate parents, and transported all of the kids!  Of course, Hubsy played his typical game of Musical Lanes, and passed the exit for the rest area, which Malibu had requested.  But that's okay, a few miles down the road, we managed to find him some "alternate facilities".

Our arrival at our first destination, my Aunt CC's house, erupted in a slurry of family photos.  My cousin, whom I hadn't seen in years, and her young boys had been visiting for a few days.  So our grandfather, who lives with our aunt, had the opportunity to have his picture taken with two of his grandchildren, and four of his greats.  When the flashes faded away, we scurried to load up some folding chairs and an umbrella, so that we could get on our way to Wrightsville Beach.

sirens of the sea

As many times as Vegas has walked on the beach, this was the first time in 20 years that she immersed herself in an ocean.  Like the girl with the itty bitty bikini, once she went into the water, she never came out.  Not because of her suit, but because she was fearless.  While the tide was out, a swimmer could make it past the breakers and through the swells, to reach a sandbar, where once again the water came just to thigh level, and one could play in an entirely new set of breakers.  Vegas, not caring about the very real possibility that could very well be "aquatic predators" at this depth, and in the area, swam back and forth between the shore and the sandbar many times over.  In fact, she was hoping that an encounter with an animal might give her a free pass from work on Monday.  The fear of sharks was a very real factor for me.  Usually, despite my apprehension, I do follow Hubsy out into the deep, but these conditions were different.  The sky was overcast, and the water was dark.  A distant storm miles off the coast, whose clouds were visible from the shore, was creating a steady stream of deep rolling swells, and high cresting waves.  Twice I made it halfway to the sandbar, but, let's just say... in honor of The Discovery Channel's Shark Week... I turned back.  The teens occasionally followed Vegas in her attempt to invade Great Britain by sea, while Princess stayed behind and played in the shallows with me.

Once in a while, you could find Hubsy, Malibu, and I taking a smoke break in the beach chairs by the blanket.  We chatted up a storm, and sipped from a few of the beer cans hidden in the bottom of the cooler amongst the colas.  (Sshhh, don't tell).  It turned out to be a rather nice day, considering that the predictors of weather anticipated a series of thunderstorms.  It was bright and sunny when we arrived, and gradually became more and more overcast.  A long slender ribbon of dark clouds took all afternoon to pass over, but waited until it they were off shore to gather and release their rain.  We never saw a drop, although the wind did pick up, and kick sand across the blanket ... oh and let's not forget (as Hubsy's won't let me), also blew the umbrella away.

Hubsy looking all serious

Malibu looking all Malibu

Dinner on the patio was practically waiting for us when we arrived back at Aunt's CC's.  Of course, Hubsy and I were late, after getting lost in the five miles between her house and the beach, and after changing into dry clothes, I was the last to the table, but the chicken and spinach enchiladas were still steaming hot.  The strawberry cake that followed was warm, and the vanilla ice cream that surrounded it was cold.

It was still daylight when we left, but just barely.  We still had a geocache to conquer before we hit the highway, and needed to try to get Bunny back at a decent hour.  By the way, it was she who actually found the cache!  Princess chose to stay with us for the ride home, and promptly crashed out during the drive.  The two teens wished they had stayed with us because, from what I heard, Vegas and Malibu acted a little too much like an old married couple.  You see, that's what happens when you spend a whole day with my children.

Malibu, Vegas, and Bunny

Sinking into bed around midnight, I felt refreshed and recharged, and right with the world, just like I do every time I spend the day on the edge of the ocean.  But this time was a little different. 

When your family feels more like your friends, and your friends have become a part of your family, it's not just a good day... it's a good life.

Hubsy Overdoes It With The Scenty-Stuff

 A few days ago, we made a quick stop at the grocery store for household supplies.  Now, I know better than to waste my money buying health and beauty products at the grocery store, due to the huge markup, but on this occasion I gave in.  I only needed one thing from that aisle anyway.  That is until Hubsy announced his current need for shower gel.  I was a little surprised to hear that, but hey, how would I know, I don't use his manly scented stuff.  I'm a bar soap kind of gal.  So I left him there to choose his gel, and a few minutes later we met up in the pasta aisle.

Later, while putting away our recent purchases, I am shocked to find that there are still three bottles of Hubsy's shower gel lined up in the tub.  Now, there are four.  "Well, maybe they are empty bottles", I tell myself.  All of my clowns have a strange habit of leaving their empties laying around: shampoo, conditioner, hair remover, perfume, and lotions.  Even pop tarts and Gatorade.  Upon further investigation, I discover that each of these bottles was half full, depending on your outlook.  Obviously Hubsy sees them as half empty.

It's the same with his collection of cologne.  Six bottles in a basket on the shelf over the throne.  There's one in the cabinet.  And there's the one that he keeps in the car.  Every time we go to the discount store, he is drawn to the display of all of our favorite cheap, imitation, knockoff designer scents.  That's where he'll be when he's not raiding the snack aisle.   

The paradox is this:  He's a blue collar working man.  There are always going to be more hours in the day in which he stinks, than the brief ones in which he doesn't.

The Hope Of Psychiatric Pharmaceuticals

Just a little more than three months ago, Hubsy took the initiative with our doctor, and joined the ranks of the medicated American public.  I've been there.  My son's been there.  Our daughter is still there, and another daughter is on her way.  It's not a little white "happy pill".  It's hope, by means of medical chemistry, and oh, what a little hope can do...

It can turn everything you know about your world upside down and inside out, that's what.  You see, we've spent years building emotional walls around our household.  Big, high, thick, protective walls.  A barrier to hide the panic, confusion, and embarrassment from all that we've been through in the last twelve years.  Homeland Security wishes it had these walls.  Employers, acquaintances, even family members couldn't breach them.  But with the help of that little white hope... suddenly, without warning... Hubsy dropped the walls.  Like in The Others (with Nicole Kidman), I woke up one morning, and the curtains were gone.  Just gone...

Okay, so it didn't happen overnight.  Like most things in life, it was a process.  Hubsy became more relaxed at home, which is exactly what we were shooting for.  The crumbs of anxiety, left behind after the bread of turmoil, just melted away and his good old self began to emerge.  He was jovial, personable, and approachable once again, and the trickle down effect on our household was nothing short of miraculous.  I don't know what made me think that it was going to stop there, but I did... and it didn't.  Before I knew it, Hubsy was enjoying his work more and more, and spending more and more time at work.  I became terribly jealous of the women with whom we works, with whom he began texting and Facebooking, and outright socializing.  Socializing?!  We don't socialize!

Well, we do now!  It's still a process.  I still wrestle with the demon of jealousy, especially when I see my husband acting out in ways that I haven't seen practically since I met him seventeen years ago.  But that's the man that attracted me in the first place, and now I find myself seriously attracted all over again.  I'm also finding myself quite fond of the people with whom I have to share his attention, and I look forward to Friday nights like I rarely have before. 

We always said "If Mama Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy".  Who knew that a happy Daddy makes for a happy Mama.  And when Mama's happy, all is right with the world.  Thanks to the little white hope.

Hubsy Spoke Those Four Little Words

Actions speak louder than words, it's true, but sometimes the words can make all the difference. 

Hubsy recently spoke those words.  Four little words that I honestly didn't think I would ever hear.  There was once a time when I knew for certain that he felt that way, so much so that the words didn't even matter.  

But that seems like such a long time ago.  And I know that in our seventeen year relationship, there have been times when I knew for certain that he felt the exact opposite.  In fact, it wasn't that long ago that I was sure he was going to just throw his hands up and walk away, an angry, bitter and broken man.  

But he stuck it out.  Maybe it was my convincing, or maybe it was just because that's who he is.  A real trooper.  A non-quitter.  A man who would suck it up, and continue to go through the motions, regardless of his misery, and the inner turmoil that he tries so hard to hide, even if it was corroding his soul.  He stuck it out because he had responsibilities that he would never walk away from, and he always puts the happiness of others before his own.  Because that's who he is.

But something changed.  I don't know what exactly it is, and I don't need to.  All I need is to see that smile, and know that he's no longer carrying such a heavy burden.  The darkness has lifted, and the air is lighter, much easier to breathe.  I only pray that it continues, and that within a few years time I may get to hear him say those four little words again.  

I think, for a woman who truly loves her man, there can be precious little that tops hearing him say "I love my job!"

Oniony Cheesey Stuffed Peppers

Green peppers are one of the easiest things to grow at home.  I can't seem to do it, but you can thank my nemesis tree for that.  (For those of you who don't know about my nemesis tree, you can catch up by reading this post from my nature blog).

Luckily, though, green peppers are on sale at the grocery store more often than not.  But what to do with them once I have them?

I like to slice them up and saute them in some butter, with sliced onions and smoked sausage. Hubsy likes that too, but he also likes to stuff them.

So last week Hubsy did just that.  The usual stuffing is some sort of rice and ground beef mixture in a tomato sauce ... but aaaah ... I hate that. So, we switched it up.  Instead of adding rice to boiling water, we added it to onion soup!  What a flavor boost!  After stuffing the rice and beef mixture into the peppers, Hubs topped them off with shredded mozzarella cheese before baking them.

As you can see, we served them with some fresh, sweet corn on the cob. First, we stuffed the peppers, and then we stuffed ourselves!