The last time I attempted a foray into the world of blogging, I talked about the journey of purchasing a new car. Rather trivial, a little trite, it seemed I wasn't willing to discuss something of great importance to me or to others. Today, I am bolding going to discuss a completely different journey...
Three Christmases ago I stood in the kitchen doing dishes at the end of the annual Kezar Christmas celebration held in our home. My husband's family rotates the event from one home to another each year, and it was our year to host. I had been on my feet for a couple of days preparing food and the house, and I had traveled the better part of the previous two weeks with my job. I had noticed "plaques" on the bottoms of ,my feet, and I had used lotion and cream to help heal the skin. The skin worsened, and this particular evening as I stood in the kitchen, I felt the unpleasant sensation of oozing.
I slipped off into the bedroom and removed my shoes, and to my horror, my shoes were basically filled with blood from several lesions on the bottoms of my feet. I cleaned the wounds, bandaged them as best I could and headed back to the kitchen to finish the evening.
I had had minor psoriasis outbreaks in the past on my elbows and the top of my left foot. However, a little sunshine and some over-the-counter cortisone cream and the spots would begin to disappear. I had been diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis at about age 40, but truthfully, I had managed pretty well. I had knee problems and joint issues in my hands, but I would take some Advil and get back to business. I had a very busy, hectic, wonderful life, and I was not about to let something like a sore joint or some itchy skin get in the way. At least that is what I thought, until just before Christmas in December 2010.
In 2011 the plaques on the bottoms of my feet began to spread to the outer calf on each of my legs. I did not know it then, but my type of psoriasis "mirrors" itself on each extremity. So what the right foot and leg did, the left did as well. The tops of my feet resembled a burn victim's scabbing. Huge pieces of skin would flake away, and I was constantly worried about infection.
To add to the pain, discomfort and embarrassment, the itching was beyond annoying. It was so severe that I would awaken to myself scratching in my sleep and gritting my teeth. I bought and tried every topical remedy imaginable. I finally made an appointment to see a dermatologist, knowing that he would be able to treat this and get me on a regimen to heal.
I began seeing Dr. C and he immediately told me my case was severe. I was not willing to immediately start on injections of any sort, so we agreed that I would try a variety of topical ointments and soak my feet in Dead Sea salts as often as I could. My job includes a great deal of travel, meetings with clients, client entertaining, and late hours, so I tried to comply as best I could given the circumstances. I spent most of the year of 2011 trying to keep the psoriasis at bay, but with virtually no success.
My situation improved in the summer months when I would have the time to expose my feet and legs to the sun and salt water. I would suddenly be a little better, and then I would convince myself that it was improving, but by Christmas of 2011, my psoriasis was worse than ever. I was no longer able to wear leather shoes at all (the leather or any other hard material broke open the skin), I could not wear my signature flip flops (the section between my toes would break open the skin), and I could not wear heels (the pressure on the ball of my foot would break open the skin). The cloth shoes made by TOMS were my saving grace. I bought them in every color and hoped that my clients thought I was very "trendy" for wearing canvas shoes to their meetings.
I used large gauze pads and tape to "bind" the wounds to prevent or lessen the bleeding from the lesions. Dueto the swelling in my feet, my shoe size had increased a whole size from an 8 to a 9. My legs had large lesions that ran from below my knee to the top of my ankle on the outside of my calf, and the top of my feet from my toe cleavage to the top of my ankle had large swollen plaques. On the rare occasion I wore capris (shorts were out of the question!), people would visibly wince when they saw my feet and legs. Sometimes people would ask what happened, some would stare, and every now and then another psoriasis sufferer would knowingly nod or smile. It only took a second for us to communicate what we were thinking, "So you are miserable, too?"
The indescribable itching was not visible, however. The torture at wanting to claw your skin completely away is not something one can easily verbalize. As I made concessions for shoes, clothing, walking (particularly tortuous, as the very act of walking broke open the skin), social occasions, travel, and treatment, I began to wonder if I would have to begin the injections of either Enbrel, Humira, or Stelara. The descriptions and the warnings were terrifying! I was soon to be very, very desperate and the decision was looming.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Auto-Tripping Update: We Took Our Vows
Below is the announcement heralding my happy news...
I married my new vehicle on Friday night at 7:30 PM. My sweet vehicle quietly promised to transport me wherever I need to go, and I pledged my loving care and support. The commitment is palpable, the affection is growing, and the finality is both comforting and unsettling.
The ceremony and celebration came together much like my marriage to my human husband: quickly, and with little second guessing once the decision was made. There was a slight tremor in my hands as the final vows (signatures) took place, but once blessed, there was nothing to do but plunge into this new relationship!
We are still learning about each other...my new love is complicated, but fortunately this relationship DOES come with a manual. Will I read it, will I put in the time to nurture this relationship? Yes, indeed I will. The lessons of the human marriage have taught me that much! I know the basics...we managed to arrive home in comfort and with only one major challenge. Who doesn't start off without challenges? As we tentatively maneuver through our honeymoon, I am hopeful we will continue to grow together.
In the end, I take my vows very seriously, as I want this to be a long and loving relationship. Nothing is too good for my new love, and we will continue to bond and share fabulous adventures for a very long time.
The Happy Pair wishes to Share Their Joyous News!
Syvalee and MKT
Announce their Mobile Union Commitment
(for the next 7 or 8 years)
September 24, 2010
7:30 PM
Corpus Christi, Texas
No Gifts, Please
I married my new vehicle on Friday night at 7:30 PM. My sweet vehicle quietly promised to transport me wherever I need to go, and I pledged my loving care and support. The commitment is palpable, the affection is growing, and the finality is both comforting and unsettling.
The ceremony and celebration came together much like my marriage to my human husband: quickly, and with little second guessing once the decision was made. There was a slight tremor in my hands as the final vows (signatures) took place, but once blessed, there was nothing to do but plunge into this new relationship!
We are still learning about each other...my new love is complicated, but fortunately this relationship DOES come with a manual. Will I read it, will I put in the time to nurture this relationship? Yes, indeed I will. The lessons of the human marriage have taught me that much! I know the basics...we managed to arrive home in comfort and with only one major challenge. Who doesn't start off without challenges? As we tentatively maneuver through our honeymoon, I am hopeful we will continue to grow together.
In the end, I take my vows very seriously, as I want this to be a long and loving relationship. Nothing is too good for my new love, and we will continue to bond and share fabulous adventures for a very long time.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Auto-Tripping
Disclaimer: This is an unedited version...please forgive!
Using a soggy Sunday morning to begin blogging seems safe enough. There are no trips to take today, no major chores to be completed, no real demands on my time. I should be able to get through the day without bruises from tripping over my own two feet. I say that with a smile, because the bruises, the scrapes and scratches are my badges of honor for meeting life and clearly having fun doing it.
Right now the biggest challenge I am facing (without tripping) is buying a new car. My wonderful vehicle met with disaster (I wasn't driving it and no one was hurt, other than the wall of a McDonald's) in July and I have managed to procrastinate for two months without purchasing another one. I am generally not impressed with automobiles, or so I thought. My mantra has always been, buy a dependable car, drive it for 6-8 years, put 200,000 miles on it, and try not to have a car payment. I always add to that: AC, decent radio, comfortable seats. Words to live by...at least to purchase an automobile by...and color, design and doodads really don't matter. The upshot of this attitude means that in 34 years of marriage, I have only picked out one of the cars I have bought. Even when paying for the ride myself, I have caved to my husband, who indeed, does have an opinion. Okay, that means I am not picky, a cheap dependable ride should do it, and we are done. That however, seems to have changed, and I am not sure when I became an automobile snob, but that apparently is what has happened!
I think it began with the seats...I heard about seats that were both heated (not a real necessity in my part of Texas) AND air conditioned. Air conditioned seats? Are you kidding? Sign me UP for that! I knew I wanted power seats with a lumbar support. Let's face it, I drive, drive, drive. Someone sitting in the driver's seat puts 20-30K on my vehicle per year, and that person (me) needs her back supported. So, now we have stepped up to a completely different class of auto. Air conditioned power seats with lumbar support do not come on inexpensive cars. I am not sure that power accelerator and brake fit in the seat category, but I am not a vertical giant, and I love to drive with my arms stretched out. That means the seat must be further back from the steering wheel, but then my feet would not touch the pedals. Bingo...adjustable accelerator and brake actually bring the pedals forward. Okay, now we are talking. We just upped the ante again.
I don't know a V6 from a V8 from an extraterrestrial doing a bad television show. What I do know is I do not like to have a car wimp out on me when I am trying to pass on the highway. I drive many rental cars because I travel in my job. I have had the bejezzus scared out of me on way too many occasions as I hit it to pass a truck, only to find that the car couldn't accelerate over the next decade and get around the 18-wheeled monster I am tyring to leave behind. So, the quest for speed isn't a NASCAR level, but it is a, "Lord, help me NOW" reality! The V6's I have driven on most moderately priced vehicles would get me to heaven faster than planned, so we just added 10 grand to the cost of my car, and I haven't even started looking.
As my non-caring attitude toward a vehicle is morphing, I realize I need three rows of seats, whether I want them or not. The class of car just moved up to an SUV or some sort of equivalent passenger carrier, when my daughter pointed out that she might have another baby in the next two years. That would be two car seats in Nana's car, and we would need room for my other three granddaughters when they visit. We are now up to 5 grand-girls and me. If I want any back-up, seven seat belts are required, and I just moved into a class of vehicles that now cost twice as much as the first house we bought in 1979.
I am a researcher by nature. The advent of the Internet and instant information has been one of the greatest advantages I have ever encountered having my penchant for details. With my son chiding me to take a deeper look, Yahoo Auto has recently become my guilty pleasure, and I have now come to understand my mantra may be outdated. Give me the power, the comfort, the size and apparently, the price tag! Wait, Internet searches can produce potential bargains, albeit, in faraway places. Really, they only want that much for that car? Get me a plane ticket, I am on my way. No, really...there are serious mark downs out there (thank you tanking economy) and if I just dig on the Internet for 60 days, they will appear. The same son spent an hour with me one night, guiding me through Car and Driver reviews, insisting on carefully deducing the ratings, and when the ONE car that fit all of my new standards appeared, he informed me I had made a choice.
Really? Okay. More consideration, another week of thinking, talking to the dealership by phone and email, and yesterday my husband and I drove 200 miles to drive the perfect bargain vehicle...oh, and we drove in a tropical depression-wild-rainstorm with the wind blowing over 30 mph. Of course. We happily pulled into the dealership, only to wait 10 minutes before we were acknowledged by the 8 salespeople who were standing around talking to each other. "Brad" had been communicating with me virtually and voice-to-voice by phone for over two weeks. He had double-checked with me about our appointment to see this perfect car twice, once the day before and once the morning of our appointment. At 10:00 AM of the appointed day of the viewing/test drive, I once again spoke with "Brad" to confirm our 5:00 PM meeting. We discussed the directions to the dealership. We discussed the timing. He couldn't meet us at the 3:00 PM slot (our first choice), so we agreed on the later time...knowing it would be tricky making it to our final destination in order to see the kickoff for a very important football game for my husband. (Yes, sometimes I defer to him and give-in on things like that!) If all went well, we would spend an hour with the only vehicle in America that fit all of my checklist items, and then go off for 24 hours to ponder the possibilities.
I am sure it is obvious what happened at 5:00 PM. "Brad" eventually strolls over, lets us know the car is NOT at the location he gave us, and is indeed at their other dealership location, 20 miles away. This information is followed by a blank stare. I feel my teacher voice rising into my throat as I look at him and ask, "And so we have to drive over there to see the car?" His reply, which did not even meet the requirements of being monosyllabic, was, "Uh huh." As we stood there slack-jawed, it dawned on me...this is the tripping part. Do I just trip back into my husband's truck and give him the GET ME OUT OF HERE AND THERE IS NO WAY I AM NOT GOING TO START SWEARING look, or do I jump up and say, "Let's go look at it."?
In the driving rain (sheets by now, visibility about 50 feet) we drove across the city to the other dealership. We were greeted immediately by three guys and an umbrella (obviously they were more bored than the other guys), and we told them our story. THEY were jumping up and down to take us for a test drive. Yes, I do think it is the car I want. Not only does it meet all of my newly found criteria, but it is pretty and I think it is a lady's car, without being an OLD lady's car. No, I didn't buy it yesterday. I have a little more thinking to do, but whew...even though I tripped in the rain, I was only slightly wet when I bounced back up on my feet again.
I feel better having blogged about yesterday's adventure. This blogging thing could be therapeutic AND much more safe than my usual traipsing around in comfortable flat-heeled shoes.
Using a soggy Sunday morning to begin blogging seems safe enough. There are no trips to take today, no major chores to be completed, no real demands on my time. I should be able to get through the day without bruises from tripping over my own two feet. I say that with a smile, because the bruises, the scrapes and scratches are my badges of honor for meeting life and clearly having fun doing it.
Right now the biggest challenge I am facing (without tripping) is buying a new car. My wonderful vehicle met with disaster (I wasn't driving it and no one was hurt, other than the wall of a McDonald's) in July and I have managed to procrastinate for two months without purchasing another one. I am generally not impressed with automobiles, or so I thought. My mantra has always been, buy a dependable car, drive it for 6-8 years, put 200,000 miles on it, and try not to have a car payment. I always add to that: AC, decent radio, comfortable seats. Words to live by...at least to purchase an automobile by...and color, design and doodads really don't matter. The upshot of this attitude means that in 34 years of marriage, I have only picked out one of the cars I have bought. Even when paying for the ride myself, I have caved to my husband, who indeed, does have an opinion. Okay, that means I am not picky, a cheap dependable ride should do it, and we are done. That however, seems to have changed, and I am not sure when I became an automobile snob, but that apparently is what has happened!
I think it began with the seats...I heard about seats that were both heated (not a real necessity in my part of Texas) AND air conditioned. Air conditioned seats? Are you kidding? Sign me UP for that! I knew I wanted power seats with a lumbar support. Let's face it, I drive, drive, drive. Someone sitting in the driver's seat puts 20-30K on my vehicle per year, and that person (me) needs her back supported. So, now we have stepped up to a completely different class of auto. Air conditioned power seats with lumbar support do not come on inexpensive cars. I am not sure that power accelerator and brake fit in the seat category, but I am not a vertical giant, and I love to drive with my arms stretched out. That means the seat must be further back from the steering wheel, but then my feet would not touch the pedals. Bingo...adjustable accelerator and brake actually bring the pedals forward. Okay, now we are talking. We just upped the ante again.
I don't know a V6 from a V8 from an extraterrestrial doing a bad television show. What I do know is I do not like to have a car wimp out on me when I am trying to pass on the highway. I drive many rental cars because I travel in my job. I have had the bejezzus scared out of me on way too many occasions as I hit it to pass a truck, only to find that the car couldn't accelerate over the next decade and get around the 18-wheeled monster I am tyring to leave behind. So, the quest for speed isn't a NASCAR level, but it is a, "Lord, help me NOW" reality! The V6's I have driven on most moderately priced vehicles would get me to heaven faster than planned, so we just added 10 grand to the cost of my car, and I haven't even started looking.
As my non-caring attitude toward a vehicle is morphing, I realize I need three rows of seats, whether I want them or not. The class of car just moved up to an SUV or some sort of equivalent passenger carrier, when my daughter pointed out that she might have another baby in the next two years. That would be two car seats in Nana's car, and we would need room for my other three granddaughters when they visit. We are now up to 5 grand-girls and me. If I want any back-up, seven seat belts are required, and I just moved into a class of vehicles that now cost twice as much as the first house we bought in 1979.
I am a researcher by nature. The advent of the Internet and instant information has been one of the greatest advantages I have ever encountered having my penchant for details. With my son chiding me to take a deeper look, Yahoo Auto has recently become my guilty pleasure, and I have now come to understand my mantra may be outdated. Give me the power, the comfort, the size and apparently, the price tag! Wait, Internet searches can produce potential bargains, albeit, in faraway places. Really, they only want that much for that car? Get me a plane ticket, I am on my way. No, really...there are serious mark downs out there (thank you tanking economy) and if I just dig on the Internet for 60 days, they will appear. The same son spent an hour with me one night, guiding me through Car and Driver reviews, insisting on carefully deducing the ratings, and when the ONE car that fit all of my new standards appeared, he informed me I had made a choice.
Really? Okay. More consideration, another week of thinking, talking to the dealership by phone and email, and yesterday my husband and I drove 200 miles to drive the perfect bargain vehicle...oh, and we drove in a tropical depression-wild-rainstorm with the wind blowing over 30 mph. Of course. We happily pulled into the dealership, only to wait 10 minutes before we were acknowledged by the 8 salespeople who were standing around talking to each other. "Brad" had been communicating with me virtually and voice-to-voice by phone for over two weeks. He had double-checked with me about our appointment to see this perfect car twice, once the day before and once the morning of our appointment. At 10:00 AM of the appointed day of the viewing/test drive, I once again spoke with "Brad" to confirm our 5:00 PM meeting. We discussed the directions to the dealership. We discussed the timing. He couldn't meet us at the 3:00 PM slot (our first choice), so we agreed on the later time...knowing it would be tricky making it to our final destination in order to see the kickoff for a very important football game for my husband. (Yes, sometimes I defer to him and give-in on things like that!) If all went well, we would spend an hour with the only vehicle in America that fit all of my checklist items, and then go off for 24 hours to ponder the possibilities.
I am sure it is obvious what happened at 5:00 PM. "Brad" eventually strolls over, lets us know the car is NOT at the location he gave us, and is indeed at their other dealership location, 20 miles away. This information is followed by a blank stare. I feel my teacher voice rising into my throat as I look at him and ask, "And so we have to drive over there to see the car?" His reply, which did not even meet the requirements of being monosyllabic, was, "Uh huh." As we stood there slack-jawed, it dawned on me...this is the tripping part. Do I just trip back into my husband's truck and give him the GET ME OUT OF HERE AND THERE IS NO WAY I AM NOT GOING TO START SWEARING look, or do I jump up and say, "Let's go look at it."?
In the driving rain (sheets by now, visibility about 50 feet) we drove across the city to the other dealership. We were greeted immediately by three guys and an umbrella (obviously they were more bored than the other guys), and we told them our story. THEY were jumping up and down to take us for a test drive. Yes, I do think it is the car I want. Not only does it meet all of my newly found criteria, but it is pretty and I think it is a lady's car, without being an OLD lady's car. No, I didn't buy it yesterday. I have a little more thinking to do, but whew...even though I tripped in the rain, I was only slightly wet when I bounced back up on my feet again.
I feel better having blogged about yesterday's adventure. This blogging thing could be therapeutic AND much more safe than my usual traipsing around in comfortable flat-heeled shoes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)