No, No, Neurologist (an homage to No, No, Nanette in title only)

So 1 week post-diagnosis and 1 week into medication, I dare say that I think Max is on the mend! Unfortunately I'm not 100% sure of this, but have decided that he must be getting better. I've been watching him way too closely and over-analyzing every little move that he makes...did he just stumble? or is he wobbling? I've decided that if I have to ask the question, it's probably fine. It was pretty obvious that he was having trouble with balance before and it's definitely not obvious anymore. Also, he was always a little wobbly anyway since he's such a spaz. It's hard to keep your footing when you're bouncing all over the place!! I haven't noticed any intention tremors at all, but I very rarely noticed them to begin with. So...I'm saying that I'm 90% sure that he's getting better. I was worried because I had read that I should notice in the first few days if he was getting better, but I didn't. This was partly due to the fact that over the weekend, Max was a little bump on a log, lazy dog. He just laid around all day, didn't show any interest in his toys. Frankly, I was a little concerned. I chalked it up to the medication, but after further thought...he was just being a lazy dog. There have been plenty of past days where he just lays around and sleeps all day. Just like his mom!! And, thankfully, he has yet to figure out that I'm giving him a pill...hidden in a small mound of peanut butter, on top of a Cheddar Bunny (Annie's Cheddar Bunnies are de-licious). He's none the wiser and goes completely bonkers for the concoction. Which is good because he'll be on the Prednisone for 4-6 months. Apparently when you take steroids for a long period of time, you have to taper the dose in order to get off of them. No biggie...just hope I don't start to forget when it goes to every other day. Anyway...I have to call the neurology dept tomorrow to give them an update and probably schedule a follow-up appointment. Hopefully I don't have to go back too many times...their exam fee is $150! Geez.

On another note...or rather...On a similar note: My dad had a TIA (transient ischemic attack) or "mini-stroke"! He's totally fine (whew), just has to take an aspirin a day and be aware of the fact that he is now predisposed to have a for-real stroke in the near future. The symptom was double vision in his right eye. He went to the ER and they ran some tests, couldn't find anything wrong, the double vision went away, and they sent him home. Later that night, double vision again, another trip to the ER, this time he was referred to the Neurologist (aw, man...not this again!). He had an MRI and some other tests, had to stay overnight for observation, and was told that he'd had a mini-stroke. They don't know why, but for some reason he had a blood clot, or some kind of blockage of an artery in the area of eye function, which caused the double vision. It is by definition a transient event, meaning that it happened, it's better, and there is no lasting brain damage. While I will now be on Red Alert for signs of stroke, I am very thankful that it wasn't more serious.

Okay...enough of this business. Everyone must remain healthy from now on! That's an order. I am including myself in that which means that I really need to get into the Dermy to check a couple of questionable moles, and go to a regular doc to ask about this bony growth on one of my upper ribs. I'm calling it a bony growth, but it's probably totally normal. It just looks weird. I am a hypochondriac...I just don't go to the doctor. :P

Max...my whole world

Someone out there needs to make a website like webmd.com for animals. Max was diagnosed with cerebellar ataxia today. I brought him in to my vet clinic last week because he's been having balance issues for the past two months. I had lulled myself into a false sense of security because the issues started after he jumped off the couch and yelped. He was listing to the left and falling over when excited for the next 2 days and then appeared to be on the mend. I assumed that he had possibly sprained something or pinched something and that it was just taking a while to heal. Max wasn't, and still isn't, exhibiting any pain signs so I figured it was no big deal. Then on the 4th of July, we were over at a friend's house hanging out in the backyard. Max was walking around like a drunken sailor! My friend said that the ground is uneven, but he was really struggling to stay upright...poor thing. The next day at home he seemed totally fine...well, not totally fine, but markedly improved. So I put off the vet again. I guess I was in denial that anything was really wrong with him...still going back to the couch-jumping incident. So, I finally brought him in to get checked out last Wednesday. My vet said that she couldn't feel anything wrong with his legs, knees, or hips and that we would need some x-rays done to see if maybe there was something that had been wrong and hadn't healed properly. I figured x-rays would be necessary because I hadn't been able to find anything physically wrong either. She then dropped the "neurological" bomb on me, letting me know what could be causing his symptoms if it wasn't orthopaedic. Sigh. I started crying the moment she uttered that word. It's a bad word. X-rays came back negative. She did films of his spine and pelvis and couldn't find anything abnormal. She also had observed some head bobbing action. I think he's always done this, but she said it was leading her to think it was probably neurological. There was that word again. Then she says she's going to refer me to the University of Minnesota Vet Medical Center. Gulp. What the hell?? Apparently the only veterinary neurologist in the state works there, but still. Being referred to a university medical center freaked me out a bit. I went to see the doctor today and he took one look at Max and knew it was cerebellar ataxia. He seriously barely even did an exam...it was weird. There was a vet student that did the whole physical exam first and then reported her findings to the neurologist who then walked in, kind of played around with Max a little (that's what it looked like) and then looked at the vet student (not at me) and kind of half-whispered "It's Cerebellar". As if I weren't even in the room. It pissed me off, but instead of being indignant, I started to cry. They finally stopped discussing Max with each other and noticed that I was sitting there with tears rolling down my cheeks. Not very good bedside manner indeed! Anyway...being the good little Obsessive-Compulsive that I am, I've been internet-researching the disorders that my vet had brought up last week. Cerebellar ataxia was one of them and I had considered it the worst case scenario. So when the neurologist said "It's Cerebellar", I knew exactly what he was talking about and I was devastated. He, on the other hand, didn't seem all that concerned. He said that it was kind of weird that he has had an acute onset and that he doesn't know what's causing it (without tests being run). His symptoms are very subtle...neither the student nor the resident or intern figured it out. He just has this slightly unsteady, wobbly walk and a slight intention tremor (head bob) which doesn't happen all the time, but is there. I'm noticing it a lot more now that I know what I'm looking for. It's kind of like a Parkinson's type tremor occuring mostly when he tries to lick faces. There are actually MANY things that could be causing it. Not the least of which is the fact that he had his Rabies booster the week before all this business started. Coincidence? Can't rule it out. So he gives me three options: 1. Do nothing (yeah right) and see if he gets worse. 2. MRI, blood work, possible spinal tap. Expensive and maybe not neccessary. 3. Start him on Prednisone (steroid) and see if he improves. If he starts to improve during the 1st week of treatment it essentially means that he has an inflammation of the cerebellum and that it will hopefully go away. I chose option 3...and I think that's what the neurologist thought I should do. Why else would he have given me that option last instead of the MRI? To me, the MRI, etc is the opposite extreme of doing nothing so it should have been stated last. I guess that's just me? Anyway...I'm about to try to get Max to ingest the most disgusting tasting medication I know. I had to take Prednisone for a couple of days after having an allergic reaction to my allergy shot (go figure) and it tastes HORRIBLE. Wish me luck!! I will keep the blog updated on his status.

So that's done.

I FINALLY got all of those clothing items out of my house a few weeks ago. I see from my earlier blog that I predicted this would happen...but still. That crap had been sitting on my bedroom floor for like 5 months. There is something wrong with that. Here's the final tally:

23 pairs of pants/capris
7 pairs of jeans
8 skirts/skorts
19 tank tops
22 T-shirts
10 long sleeve tops/sweaters
4 dresses
7 jackets/coats
7 kids clothing items
2 pillows
1 comforter
1 duvet cover
4 pillowcases
1 bedskirt
2 flat sheets
3 fitted sheets
1 baby blanket (found on a walk with Max)
13 pairs of shoes/sandals/boots
7 purses
3 belts
2 hats
1 pair of socks
1 headband
2 pair of undies (never worn of course!!)
1 backpack

I took pictures of everything and then proceeded to delete them from my camera thinking that I had already downloaded them. What the hell. Hopefully I don't get audited by the IRS next year after I claim all of that as donations!! I ended up with a bit more that I started with because as spring/summer arrived I realized that everything I had purchased a couple of years ago is now huge. Not that I'm complaining, but seriously...I really liked a lot of that stuff. Oh well. Done and done. I apologize for the boring nature of this blog. Maybe I should have blogged about Vegas instead??

Confessions of the chronically single: Part I

Over the past couple of years, I've been doing a lot of thinking about life and relationships in the hopes of figuring some things out. I'm (cough) 30 years old now and the only "long-term" relationship that I've been in was way more off than on and very dysfunctional. For those of you who know what I'm talking about, you'll understand why I put that in quotes. Other than that, there have been practically decade-long crushes in junior high/high school, failed attempts at dating in college, a five year drought of NOTHING and, most recently, four dates over the past year with three guys...none of which went very far. Obviously. I either immediately find something wrong with the guy and then it has no chance or I start thinking too far into the future and freak myself out. Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing. I've gotten really comfortable with my life the way that it is and cannot fathom how a guy would fit into it. Which, obviously, is a big problem. I mean really...I watch A LOT of TV, I pee with the door open and often eat popcorn for dinner. And lunch. I'm generally a good person, but I have my moments. I'm very independent...the thought of having to consider someone else in my decisions is...what's the word? Distressing. I'm self-involved and vain. My mood swings are becoming somewhat legen-wait for it-dary. I have a hard time letting people in. This includes friends and family. I like to keep people at a distance. I don't really know why...it's probably some kind of chemical imbalance or something. Maybe I have mild Asperger's. Or something. I don't know...I don't think that I'm completely socially awkward, but I'm definitely not graceful. I don't do small talk very well, even with my friends. I often come off snobby, disinterested or bored when in actuality I'm just really uncomfortable. So dating someone that I don't already know is really hard for me. I got myself so worked up with the last guy that I thought I might puke or something. I felt like I was going to an interview and as much as I rationally knew that it was fine and not a big deal, my irrational brain won out and I ended up being really weird. Not that I'm not weird...because I am. Just really weird and not myself. What it boils down to is that I'm honestly just not sure if I even want to be in a relationship. Most of the time I'm totally okay with being single. Most of the time. The other times...I'm not sure what it is that I feel like I'm missing. I think that I don't know what that is because I've never really had whatever it is in the first place. Ugh. Whatever. I'm at a loss. I throw my hands up in defeat.

Good times on I-94

I had the day off today and spent the morning doing a whole lot of nothing as per usual. I woke up at 10 or so, let Max out potty, ate breakfast and had a cup of coffee. I watched Sunday's Desperate Housewives and spent some time on Facebook (totally addicted). I actually was considering just going back to bed because I was super tired from shoveling and having to work late last night. A nap sounded like a really good idea, but...alas...I desperately needed to get dog food for Max. I was completely out and had fed him treats for breakfast. Then, I hit up gamestop.com and found out that they are selling Wiis again and just had to order one!! I've been having some serious Wii-envy lately since it seems that everyone either just got one for Xmas this year, or had one already and got Wii Fit. That's all anyone can talk about! So I've been on the hunt the past week or so and had resigned myself to the fact that I was just going to have to wait since the only ones I could find were being sold by private sellers for around 30% more than the thing is supposed to be sold for. I refuse to get screwed. Anyway...I'm getting a Wii and am very excited about it. I digress. So I was no longer about to fall asleep and decided that I should just get off the couch, go to Petco and maybe hit the grocery store. Play-by-play: I get in the car and head towards 94. I briefly consider getting onto 694 via 100 instead of 94, but change my mind...should have just gone to 100. I get on the ramp towards 94W and pick up speed. I turn up Britney's new CD Circus. I notice what appears to be a chunk of snow on the road that has fallen from some car's wheel well. I pick up more speed and run into the alleged snow chunk. BAM!!! Or maybe KABLAM!!! Britney skips for like 3 seconds and then comes back on. WTF?!!! That was no snow chunk. That was more like a solid ice chunk that probably was shaken loose from the back of a semi truck! I have no choice but to continue onto the freeway. The car is pulling hard to the left and I know that I've blown a tire. I'm in denial about this fact though and continue on towards the 694-252-94 split. I pass a stranded motorist on the side of the road and then succumb to the fact that I too will have to pull over on the side of a major freeway. I cannot make it to 252 or East River Road. I pull over and proceed to freak out. I jump into the passenger seat and get out of my car. Cars are whizzing by me going around 65 mph as I lean over to check my tire...flat. Ugh. I get back in my car and immediately call my go-to-guy Brett. I made it through telling him what happened before I fell into tears and became a blubbering mess. Luckily he was able to come and rescue me...again. What I would do without him, I don't know...I don't want to know. The whole time I was waiting for him in my car I had my eyes glued to the rear view mirror. It was terrifying...all I kept thinking about was how you hear about people being killed on the side of the road because some jackass isn't paying attention to the road. Brett got there in record time...my knight in shining armor....or rather my knight in a very dirty, blue Mitsubishi. So now I have two new tires, which I kind of needed anyway, and all is well. I think there are two morals to this story:
1. When you have a gut feeling to go a certain way...listen to your gut.
2. Do not under any circumstances believe that something on the road can be driven over without a problem...especially in a Minnesota winter!!

New Year's Purge

Don't fret...I wasn't puking my guts out due to over-indulgence on New Year's Eve (although, I was really tired and pissed off that I had to go to work--even if it wasn't until 3 pm). Nope...I finally went through all of my clothes and am getting rid of everything that I don't wear anymore. And a few things that I probably would wear but really shouldn't. You know...those t-shirts with the silly sayings. Most of them I have no problem getting rid of because they are from so long ago that they are short, almost midriff-baring shirts as opposed the shirts of today that are so long that they can cover your butt if you want them too. But there is one that I still really like because it's green and long, however, it has a big lemon on it and and reads "Squeeze Me" which just doesn't really belong on a (gack) 30 year old woman. Sigh. I did keep a denim mini skirt though...Clinton and Stacy may or may not approve. There is a sign on that show (TLC's What Not To Wear for those of you who don't have any idea who Clinton and Stacy are) that reads "No Mini Skirts after 35" so I think I'm safe...for a few years yet. I don't have an exact tally yet because I'm still washing a couple of items that were wrinkly and/or smelled weird from sitting in a drawer for a few years but here's an estimate:

20+ T-shirts
20+ pairs of pants (dress and casual)
15-20 tank tops
15+ long sleeved shirts and sweaters
12 pairs of shoes
7 purses
6 coats and jackets
4 pairs of jeans
3 belts
3 outfits for a 5 or 6 year old girl (stuff for my niece that never got returned)
2 pairs of gloves
2 sets of sheets
1 comforter
...and a partridge in a pear tree!

It's a lot of stuff...most of which is in really good shape. Several items still have tags...I used to have a minor shopping addiction. Used to. Riiight. I think I'm better at buying clothes that I'll actually wear...not necessarily clothes that I need though. And many of the pairs of shoes have only been one once or twice...or not at all. Goodwill is gonna love me. It feels so good to finally be rid of all of that crap. Or at least to have gotten it out of my closet/dresser. Now...let's hope that I actually get it all out of my house. I am a little annoyed at myself for not having done this before the end of 2008 so that I could use the deduction on my taxes for '08. Procrastination is vintage me...not unlike the pink t-shirt with the monkey butt on the back. Come you guys...you remember that shirt right? Kristy? Let me post a picture of it for you:

It's all coming back to you right? Ha! I frickin' loved that shirt!! Alas...it will give someone else joy now...probably a 13 year old. And she can also wear my tiny, tiny jeans with the zippered pockets. I can still squeeze into them since they are stretchy, but they give me uni-butt. Definition: Pants so tight on the butt that it looks like one big cheek instead of two distinct cheeks. Not that I would wear them anyway...not very chic...but they fit. Sort of. Whatever. I'm pooped...and hungry. I'm gonna go make dinner. Later.