Just a check in.

I've been neglecting the blog.  Well, not really, I've been a little swamped by life.  On the upside, though, I have pretty awesome life news.

I got chicken pox when I was something like 9 months old.  I always figured I got the easy way out.  Not memories of itching and no scars.

Then, several years ago, the hibernating virus, decided to go guerrilla warfare on me, and I ended up with shingles.  I was, however, grateful for that diagnosis, because I was convinced I was dying of heart failure or breast cancer.

I got anti-viral meds and some steroid cream and pain pills, and was told, that's the end.  But it wasn't.  I ended up with a recurring kind of shingles.  I would have recurring break outs.  After a while, though, the rashes ended.  And all that was left was the pain.  I wish I could describe the pain for you, without being overly dramtic or descriptive as I am often accused of being, but it alternated between sometimes feeling like someone had set my arm on fire, to someone was repeatedly stabbing me, to me being convinced I was having a heart attack.  Sometimes, the pain radiated all the way down my left arm to my fingers.  There wasn't a morning I didn't wake up to some form of pain or a night I went to sleep without it.  Even when it wasn't piercing, it ached.  It hurt.  and aspiring, tylenol and ibuprofen only ever seemed to take an edge off.

I was becoming a monster because of my pain.  My temper was shortening, and it wasn't that tolerant to begin with.  Also, as a Kindergarten teacher, my days were becoming miserable.  The kids like hugs.  And hugging made me shudder in pain.  I was actually resigned to this being my life.  I was grateful for the days where it only hurt a little.  And I was thankful that my pain tolerance was reaching mush higher levels. 

I was afraid to talk about the pain, because I had seen enough TV to know that what I was talking about looked a lot like drug-seeking behavior.  I was sure that what I was feeling would be dismissed by health care professionals who would look at me like some kind of suburban junkie.

And it was with much trepidation that I sat in the Doctor's office the second week of January and, after dealing with a sinus infection, as if as an afterthought, brought up the pain.

In about 45 seconds, the nurse practitioner called it Post Herptic Nueralgia, and prescribed gabapentin.

Two mornings later, I woke up with no pain.  None.

And I even called the doctor's office to thank them for the solution to my problems.  My whole life has changed in just two weeks.

I'm not nearly as bitchy as I was, and I'm not putting my liver in danger with massive amounts of nsaids.

The side effects have been an overactive imagination and a tendency to babble more, especially online.  Also, I pinned some stuff but don't remember doing it.  They were funny things, though, so it's good to know that I am awesome even if I'm not fully aware of what I'm doing.


Anyway, I've spent the last two weeks actually enjoying life, not just pretending to enjoy life for the sake of a "Fake it till you make it" mentality.


Now, I've also been trying to finish some amigurimis I should have had finished two weeks ago, but kindergarteners are forgiving, and don't mind late birthday presents.  I'll post pictures soon.  I just didn't want this blog to be dead.  And I also figured I would document that 2012 already pretty much rocks compared to 2011, and 2010 for that matter.