The Near Disaster of Jury Duty

Yes, folks... I was called in for Jury Duty at the early hour of 8am on Monday morning, to be immediately called to a courtroom for what would be an intense *2 days* of deliberations over which jury members to keep.  I got plopped in the jury box with the first random call, only to find out that the case was an appeal on a VERY high-profile murder trial from 1992.  The problem?  I knew not only the twin sister of the deceased (I had met her shortly after the murder), but also know the sister of the man on trial.

Wow.  At the end of Tuesday, I was dismissed to re-join the general pool of jurors, since this week is apparently a *very* busy week at the County Courthouse.

I had *almost* wished to remain on the panel, if for no other reason than experience in my upcoming career as a Crime Scene Investigator... but how in the world can you be completely unbiased considering personal knowledge of both families involved???

Not only that, but MANY people that I know today were VERY close to either the sisters or the accused.  I know that I will be following this case closely over the estimated three weeks that it is scheduled to take before a verdict has been reached.

I am home from duty all day today, but still have to phone in this evening to find out if I need to report tomorrow... and do the same for Friday, as well.  I'm hoping for either a relief from all duties for the rest of the week, or at least to be utilized for another interesting case.  God only knows what may lie in store behind a different set of courtroom doors...

I DO wish the friends, family, and acquaintances of BOTH parties peace throughout the next few weeks and beyond... I cannot even imagine what any of them may be going through...

XOXO

200th Post, Say What?

Wow.  Ahem.  I had no idea I had written so much already.

Moving on...

Wednesday night, I had a polysomnography done, or in layman's terms, an overnight sleep study with more electrodes attached to my scalp, face, chest, shoulders. legs... you get the point... than I had ever imagined.  I think the number topped off at *24*.  And I had to SLEEP like that, with leads coming off of every point, and a nasal cannula & respiratory sensor in/on my nose.  Nice.

Needless to say, even with the current dose of sleep meds, I only got about 5 hours of sleep.  *sigh*

The good news?  That I should have SOME clue as to why I have to be drugged to sleep (and also why only ONE medication has even come close to "fixing" my insomnia, albeit with ever-increasing doses), and also why most nights, before I *do* fall asleep, I feel like my body is going into muscle spasms, flinging legs and arms into twitchy, uncomfortable, relentless movement until I finally close my eyes.  And I should find out by the 20th or so.

Of course, my follow-up appointment isn't until the 28th, but... well, such is life.  Actually, that reminds me, I need to call and re-schedule ANOTHER follow-up I have that they set for May 1st with another of my multitude of doctors.  Heh, I'll be in Phoenix that day. =)

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In the spirit of adding more medical care to my repetoire than I ever thought humanly possible for someone who is still able to walk, talk, and breathe, I also need to call a podiatrist.  Yippee, fun... and I can't even see the doctor I used to work for, since he doesn't accept our insurance.  No, I have to find a NEW doctor to poke, prod, squeeze, and X-ray my feet.  My damned right foot has been a constant source of pain for, oh, the last three to four weeks?  And instead of getting better like I convinced myself it would, the last few days have been a REAL doozy, causing me to only walk on the INSIDE of my foot, and making for a really *fun* looking gait.  It's wonderous, I tell you... I'm just trying to figure out WHAT I did to it, since I'm SO beyond buying that it could in any way related to my fibromyalgia.  That just doesn't add up.

By the way, can I just add, WTF?  Because it's not enough that with the fibro, I have random, body-encompassing pain to some degree daily, but also digestive issues, headaches, jaw issues, dental issues, sleep issues... but now, one of the ONLY parts of my body that ISN'T affected?  Yep, my foot takes a dive and decides to join the gang in causing me more personal grief.

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Greyson, on the other hand, is becoming a monster.  No, not the previously-discussed "scream at you for an hour just because I feel like it" monster, but rather, of the growing and eating and OH MY GOD YOU HAVE AN APPETITE kind.  I'm pretty much convinced that he has gained two pounds in the last few weeks, and both his hands and feet has grown noticeably in less than a week's time.  Apparently, with Spring, not only do the plants and flowers grow, but also, little boys.

He has given his reading a HUGE leap ahead, and now attempts to sound out new words in a seamless fashion, rather than the typical "little kid" syllabic-chunk way.  He's learned to zip his own coats and jackets now, too, making headroom in the fine motor department.  His letters and numbers look a bit better each day, making me wonder just WHAT it is that has carried him this far.

I cannot take the credit for it, I have never sat down to teach him unless he has started on his own.  I have wanted to foster a childhood in him that is all too easily surpassed in a world where everything seems to be done earlier and sooner and where children look three years older than their actual age before they even ht puberty.  No, I cannot take any of the credit... but I certainly find myself fearing that I will shoulder some, if not all of the blame in time.

I find myself both overglowingly proud and also frightened as he surpasses new things, seemingly, each time I glance his way.  I don't want him to miss a minute of the glory that is being a child, and yet, somehow, I know that in some ways, he will.  No matter what I do, because he has accomplished all these things that grab at my heart and bring tears to my eyes no matter what I HAVEN'T done.  He has perfectly and completely become HIMSELF, seamlessly and effortlessly, all a part of his own, special world... and I am amazed, proud, and choked up at each little segment of this little man's personality and strength.

Somehow, I cannot remember, no matter how hard I try, to figure out just how we have reached this point - him quickly encroaching upon three and a half, and me, stumbling to find my footing at 28.  Each day is filled with a melange of near each emotion I can fathom, and nothing could have *ever* prepared me for this moment in time, this witnessing of *my* child growing more and more into himself every day.

And even knowing what I know now, this all will do nothing to prepare me for another child in the future, if ever and whenever that day comes.  It's like trying to describe a faultless sunset, or the breathtaking beauty that is the northern lights over the phone to someone who can't see through to the outside... each time you try, you feel a bit more secure in your findings, but never truly prepared for what new color or ribbon of light always seems to slip into view just a second later.

I only know that the moments I feel tears start to sting my eyes are far more in the way of pride and overwhelming joy mean much, much more that those when the burn is from a moment felt in sorrow or pain.  My son has taught me that no matter *what* I have or haven't done, that he will keep on going, smiling and showing the world that he is on his way through, changing all he touches.

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Happy Easter, Happy Spring... it is so easy to take what we have for granted in a world where others have much worse things to face.  Many, many wishes for healing to Heather and Mike, who lost their precious daughter Maddie this past Tuesday. 

I. HATE. BLOGGER.

Well, I HAD just finished a nice, long post...

Only to have blogger delete it, and act like it never existed.

Time to go bury my head under a rock.

And it was all full of light and happiness, too! (Okay, well SOME light and happiness... LOL)

Damnit. It's one of THOSE days, isn't it?

What the... SNOW? Seriously?!?!?!

So, it just stopped *blizzarding* here.  I know... snow?  A week before Easter.  Yippee.  Meanwhile, Greyson stands at the window and proclaims his hatred for the damned white stuff.  I did *not* create a snow-loving little man.

Next up, we have me (hi!) avoiding my College Algebra work and Terrorism paper for this week like the plague.  I don't know... when the problem that I attempted in the initial classwork came out SO off base, and the discussion question for the week in Terrorism made me twitch a little with it's "eschatological thinking" in its use of al-Qaeda recruitment...  Yeah.  Not really looking to dive into any of it right away.

Lastly?  I have the initial appointment made for the sleep study I have been referred for on Tuesday, as well as blood work to check my thyroid on Wednesday.  My psych is *really* confused by my body's reaction to, essentially, 25% of the caloric intake I *should* be consuming, yet no downward fluctuation in my weight.  Actually, I have *gained* weight... so yep... she's thinking that all signs are pointing towards possible hypothyroidism.  I wonder how many MORE pills that would mean I would have to take daily... can I up my numbers to 16?  Maybe a nice, round 20?  I know that 15 pills a day currently is just WAY to comfortable right now... (gag).

Oh!  And that doesn't even count the highly likely cholesterol meds (at least for a short while) since one of the meds I have been taking for sleep (in ever-increasing dosages!) has jacked up my cholesterol - AND my blood pressure!  But hopefully, that will remedy on its own without more medication.  I HOPE.

I suppose I should also call my neurologist tomorrow to try and get into see him, too... since it's been almost a month since my MRI.  That will either add a spinal surgery or just even MORE medication to my regime.  YUMMY!

Gah, what I wouldn't give for the body (and the endurance, for the love of everything holy!!) that I had, say eight, 10 years ago?!?  Hells bells.  Eight years ago, 4 hours of sleep a night was REFRESHING.  Now, if I'm LUCKY to even get that much, I feel like I have a sandbox in each eye, and leaden weights tied to each limb.

I wish I could play football again.  I wish I could tear up the volleyball courts without feeling like my muscles were going on strike and just plain LEAVING my body.  Hell, I wish I could jog a half mile and know I wouldn't be feeling like I was 60 afterwards.  *sigh*

I wish I had nothing to bitch about.  Of course, I could just NOT complain... but you know, I just don't remember signing up for this shit.  I'm actively trying to take a better mental grasp of things, but when, at the end of the day, I feel like I have bruises covering 75% of my body... it really just doesn't seem fair, I guess.  The only thing that I *have* been grateful for, medically, is the fact that (at least in the case of my Fibromyalgia) it's not deteriorating... but the pain at times can *really* fool you into feeling like it is.

And this damn snow in April DOES. NOT. HELP. AT. ALL.

Mother Nature can take the crap BACK.