Tuesday, November 10, 2020

Oops! I'm Late for My Nineteenth Vestibular Migraine Anniversary! But There's Something to Celebrate This Year!

Deliciously Ella has a nice Turmeric Latte to sip while I spin, and I'll be wearing
my shades inside because sunlight makes my eyes burn like a vampire.

There is a BOOK. We have a BOOK for Vestibular Migraine. I was going through a spate of them recently. Sitting on the comfy grandma chair in my office, spinning and bobbing, I started googling "Vestibular Migraine Books". When I first started to get these migraines (and I didn't even know they were migraines), the only diagnosis I could get after a year or so of running to doctors, was that, "It must be a migraine variant.".

That was nineteen years ago and they're an official type of migraine now. Why that makes a difference is hard to explain. Maybe we just like to know the name of our enemy. He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named is so much worse. You do not want to show up in the Emergency Room with an invisible ailment. Back in the Olden Days of 2001 I recall having a raging migraine with aura. My vision was totally blocked with various prisms and flashing, while a nurse in the E.R. tried to give me an eye exam... 

 "Can't you see the TOP LINE?"
"I can't even see YOU!"

From April of 2001 until September 18th of 2001 I had five to six cluster migraines every single day. If it wasn't hell, it was one of the lesser waiting rooms. (Mind you my neurologist appointment wasn't until that October.) An emergency room doctor (after several visits) gave me a prescription for Propranolol. It's a beta blocker with good success as a migraine prophylactic. Unfortunately it made my blood pressure go berserk. (It's a rare side effect.) I wound up self-referring myself to the Cleveland Clinic to see a specialist for a condition called pheochromocytoma. I'd been misdiagnosed as having that condition in my small town. My mad scientist husband thought it was awfully suspicious that I didn't have those symptoms until I started taking those meds.

He was right and he's been insufferable ever since.

No, I didn't have pheochromocytoma. I did memorize how to spell it after that mess. So there's that. What I do have is a body that can't deal with meds very well. Or grains. Or broccoli. When this all started, one emergency room doctor called me a hot house flower. That's not a medical compliment. I suppose it means I'm a pain in the rear for someone who tries to keep me flourishing. Well, I might have a hot house flower body, but I have a tough and stubborn disposition and in nineteen years no matter what amount of Fun House spinning my migraines have thrown at me, I've never returned to the Emergency Room. 

Basically I gave up on doctors. Maybe that was bad, but I was getting nowhere and I think my out of pocket medical expenses in 2001 were somewhere around $20K. So, I changed the way I ate to mostly vegan and it helped. The spinning never went away completely, but it got better and I learned to live with it. Still, after all of these years, I can't tell you how thrilled I as to come across Shin C. Beh, M.D.'s book Victory Over Vestibular Migraine, The Action Plan for Healing & Getting Your Life Back.

You can tell by my copy of the book (with all the Post-It notes sticking out and the cover mangled) that I've gone over it many times already. I wrote in it. I teared up repeatedly as I read it because nineteen years of Vestibular Migraine is a very lonely road. 

As I read this I nodded my way through it YES! YES! YES! All the things the author said, I could relate to. Many of the triggers and organic solutions I'd figured out for myself. I may be a slow learner, but, hell, nineteen years is a long time. What I loved is how comprehensive this book is. It covers everything. I didn't really understand what a migraine even is or what happens in your brain during an attack. I didn't realize it could be more than one problem—that realization may send me back to a doctor after all these years. But I swear to god if all they do is have me touch my thumb to each finger and tap my nose, it will get UGLY.

Sorry, but you do cluster migraines every day for months while waiting for the blessed neurologist and get five minutes with that and only that, and you'll understand the frustration.

Many of the triggers I'd figured out myself too, including diet. Mind you that didn't stop me from gradually dropping my mostly vegan diet and gaining a bunch of weight back, and kicking the whole cycle into high gear again. That's because I PRIDE MYSELF ON DOING ALL THINGS THE HARD WAY. Also, stress eating. Also, cake.

No worries, I'm back on the wagon again.

If you have these migraines, you have my sympathy friend, and you have to get a copy of this book. It covers everything you need to know AND it's like an empathetic hug while you circle one of hell's waiting rooms. 

Ain't nothing pretty about a
Vestibular Migraine.

Links to my other Vestibular Migraine Blogs:

Vestibular Migraine is the Devil

It's my Vertigo Anniversary


Friday, October 23, 2020

Bless me father for I have sinned—life in the time of COVID-19


Right now I'm supposed to be in actual Paris for a writer thing,
but reality. It's biting all of us.

This morning I got on the British Museum website to look for a book about cartouches (hieroglyphs of names of Egyptian kings). It was out of print, so I spent nearly £200 on things like a Rosetta Stone wristwatch and a pencil sharpener that looks like a little trebuchet. 

Let's pretend those things are going to be Christmas gifts.

Are they still Christmas gifts if you give them to yourself?

Hubby promised to clean the sink and forgot. When I pointed it out he said he'd do it tomorrow, so I muttered, "You'd better or I'll throat punch you." Let's face it that's not okay. Yes, I apologized, but wrapped up my apology with, "But I meant it."

He's a good man. He puts up with my crap. That's really important in a spouse. It's really important to know your spouse would never actually throat punch you, no matter how much she wants to. Next week is our anniversary. I'm planning to make him those tiny gluten-free cupcakes Wegmans makes and pass them off as effort. I also think I'll gift him a tiny trebuchet pencil sharpener. I'll keep it in my office.

Halloween is next week and what with the virus no one can trick or treat. I decided to offset this rift in the force by making up little bags of candy (and letting them sit for a week to neutralize cooties) and giving them to family/friends/the people who bring my Amazon packages. As I assembled them, I ate enough of those tiny Snickers bars to make an entire Snickers bar. They're gluten-free (unlike most candy) so they had it coming. 

It's the end of the week and we're still having leftovers from the one meal I made this week. I've perfected the fine art of cooking two meals a week. That's not a sin. That's a talent. If one of those "cooked" meals is takeout, it's genius.

Good gravy I should write a cookbook about that.

Contrariness is in the air like leaves falling off trees. I think it's an excellent time for low expectations and not expecting too much from yourself, or others. Bet my expectations are lower than yours. 

Wednesday, October 7, 2020

Solutions and Other Problems by Allie Brosh—a book review


I gave the three-year-old a bowl of marshmallows so I could read this.
Don't tell.

You're probably familiar with Allie Brosh's work from her Hyperbole and a Half memes. She's a writer and comic artist with a real gift for capturing the awkwardness of humanity. If you want to see how well your sense of humor jibes with Brosh's, read this free excerpt from her book about her neighbor Richard. 

That's how I discovered her and I immediately ordered the book, in hardcover. She really captures the heart and soul of (and awkwardness) of life. I loved her stories of herself as a three-year-old stalker. Brosh is one of those people who hasn't glossed over her childhood, but remembers it well. 

Her stories reminded me of the less idyllic but memorable parts of growing up and how children behave. The neighbor girl who's so insistent on showing grown Allie her purple bedroom is brilliantly awkward and perfect. If you've ever tried to politely bypass an insistent child, you'll understand. The combination of her writing and her drawings convey both story and emotion. It made me wish I could add such genius illustrations to my own work! 

Think this would help with my Viking novel?

This is a quick read, I finished it in a day. I laughed out loud many times, though there are achingly sad stories woven in here too—divorce, depression, and death. It's a realistic take on the absurdity of life, and easy to relate to. As soon as I finished Solutions and Other Problems, I immediately got online and ordered her other book, Hyperbole and a Half.

It's difficult to rate a book that's both art and story, but I'd say five stars and I recommend you don't miss this one. It's a wonderful bit of escapism during COVID, and a reminder about priorities too. It's both hysterically funny and sobering. A perfect blend, wouldn't you say?

Monday, September 28, 2020

Another one of those times you thought you had COVID—life in the time of coronavirus


You know how it goes. You're masked up. There are four tiny bottles of Bath & Body Works hand sanitizer in your purse. You're fine. You don't have a fever. Yet you cough, like an inconsiderate festering petri-dish of end time germs, you cough in PUBLIC. Heads swivel like that alien invasion movie where everyone has been taken over by aliens except one person (who just coughed). They all point at the violator and make that high-pitch alien whine sound. GET HER.

Moral of the story: don't cough in public. I don't care if you have to swallow your tongue to avoid it.

It's allergy season here in the shire (it runs April to December). Histamine is the only thing running through my veins (does it run through veins?). I'm now allergic to all life on earth. My sinuses are Death Valley dry. It's a bit worse than normal Sjogren's Syndrome, but honestly, you can get used to about anything. So, I volunteered to watch my favorite little person, Three, though she has a cold. It was totally worth it because we made a cooking show (pretend) out of a bag of gluten-free flour and water. (Yee-Um.) Priorities. Everyone in the family caught Three's cold. She's a total carrier monkey. I wasn't sure if I had it for sure but it looked bad because a couple days after she left, I sneezed once. It came out like a gust of wind in Egypt. 

Without getting into too many gory details about sinuses—I was having difficulties. Despite the pandemic, I decided I would go see my doctor for my annual physical. I wanted to tell her about my desiccated dryness. Hubby kept insisting I wiggled my nose non-stop, like Bilbo in The Hobbit. (Can't help it, but I denied it.) The best thing about mask-wearing is that no one else can see that so he has no proof.

Then I remembered that last year when I complained about dryness the doctor said buy a vaporizer. Oh, yeah. Fact is I bought two of them. Apparently you have to turn them on. You also have to put water in them. (Ain't got time for that sh—.)

Deciding that before I showed up for my physical having not done what she told me to do LAST YEAR, I turned on both vaporizers and put them at face-level with water in them and everything, and I went to sleep.

In the morning I woke up with a fever and a hacking WET cough. (Not a COVID dry one, but a fever and a cough makes you suspect!) I spent the day hacking and lying on the comfy recliner in my office and befouling tissues, figuring I'd rehydrated some kind of a mummy curse or something. 

Someone said the word COVID test to me. First I said, it's a WET COUGH and I don't have COVID! Then I thought, but WHAT IF...and my writer brain ran with it. Like most of my first drafts, it was awful. (So many plot holes, like where did I catch said virus?) Even then I may have been able to ignore that niggling doubt, but I'm to watch Three again in a couple of days and IF I have IT, or even maybe could possibly have IT, they won't let me. What with her magical carrier monkey abilities, she could infect the entire planet in the time it takes to make one pretend cooking show. Plus, I have leftover water balloons, powdered chalk, neon sidewalk chalk AND grand plans.

Watching Three is like hitting the lotto.

Anyway, the county I live in was doing free drive-by tests. 

Only, the drive-by testing site was full up for the day. So I coughed myself to sleep, vaporizers blowing at me, a fan swirling, and a hat on because maybe I was hot, maybe I was cold. I couldn't decide so planned for both.

In the middle of the night I woke up because I realized how to fix a problem I was having in the Viking book I'm writing. Also, then I realized I wasn't hot or cold or coughing anymore. I checked my temperature and it was below normal, which is where I live. Below normal.

No COVID. Absolutely nothing. The mummy curse has left the building. All is well. And you were so worried. Again.

Saturday, September 19, 2020

Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars. A Novel by Joyce Carol Oates—a book review

Tuesday, September 8, 2020

This Summer I made a Greek Alley in my Own Backyard—newsletter


This summer didn't go as planned for anybody. It reminds me of that essay about planning a holiday in Italy and winding up in Holland.
Only in our scenario there is some pestilence there too, in the form of a pandemic.
Holland isn't flashy like Italy, but it's a nice place. Kind of like being home for months and months isn't a bad thing, and since I couldn't take my writer trip to Greece, I built my own Greek alley at home. Lemons to lemonade, right?
My big thrill recently was getting a refund from United. Remember they're the airline that dragged that doctor off a flight? Fly the friendly skies my eye. I've spent many hours on the phone with them. They're not my favorite people, so I felt a bit like Rocky doing his victory laps when I finally wore them down.

Hope, patience, and low expectations are my superpowers this summer. Okay, hope and low expectations are. I'm still working on patience (and I'm sick of waiting for it). Let's be real here. I only have low expectations when it comes to housework and paperwork. But I've got hope! I definitely have hope! Yeah, hope is my superpower.
Recipe for an at-home Greek alley: Use farm stand plants and the sad remnants of last winter's grocery store herbs. Get ALL the clearance sale lavender from Lowe's, potting soil, and new pots. Voila. 
It was fun until I got tired of watering everything. So I found them new homes with better plant parents this month, and picked all the herbs. 
What's your answer when someone asks you how're you doing? Are you in the It-Could-Be-Worse column? Couldn't-Be-Worse column? Mr. Brightside one? All of the above within a ten minute time-frame? 


That said, I don't think anyone's eye is going to stop twitching until we admit at least to ourselves what we're really feeling. For instance I'm feeling anxiety, frustration, fear, disappointment, discouragement, and contentment all at the same time. Can you tell I've discovered the Dr. Marc Brackett/Brene Brown podcast about Emotional Intelligence?

If you're struggling (and who isn't), I wanted to share how much it's helped me to carve out time and space to sit quietly. (Away from the news.) Maybe it'll help you too. There's also the classic Oatmeal comic take on why all the conflicting data is driving us nuts. Matthew Inman has a great way of getting to the root of the problem.  
When reality takes my words, another thing that helps me is sketching and making collages in my journal. I also do it during ZOOM meetings. Don't tell.
This summer I read through old journals. It's been great for spotting bad habits and reminding myself how wonderful life is.
My phone has 63,192 photos on it. I take pictures of beautiful things. That helps too. As Louis Armstrong said, "What a wonderful world." He never said it's an easy world.
My little olive tree. An evening walk. A postcard I sent. A sunset here in the shire. It helps me to document every bit of wonderful.
Playing helps too. Sometimes I find a kid to play with and make art with. It justifies all my water balloons, stickers, chalk, and the kaleidoscope collection. 
This summer I've rediscovered the library. It makes me read faster because I have to return those books. I also share my books and am gifted more in return. Life is good.
My favorite reads this summer have been the often mentioned book Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates,  Madeleine L'Engle's collection of short stories The Moment of Tenderness, and War with the Newts by Karel Capik. I put my reviews on my blog and cannot recommend them more highly.
A couple summers ago I discovered Eugenia Gerontara. I love her uplifting whimsical world. This year I ordered a couple more pieces of her art and sent her so many I LOVE YOUR WORK messages that she invited me to visit her studio in Athens!
Believe me I will visit ASAP after COVID. When I can get there. If her work speaks to you, check it out online. She has an ETSY store too. I had my pieces personalized.
The Little Red Riding Hood pieces are wonderful. I love Little Red swallowing the Big Bad Wolf. I love him sleeping with Grandmother. That one reminds me of Hubby and me. Don't tell.
I'm making myself stop with all the photos. We didn't even get into me feeding gluten-free bread to the chipmunks Hubby caught in his catch and release traps. Apparently hundreds of chipmunks are a problem. They like gluten-free bread and I'm pretty sure they run all the way back to my house when he releases them a few miles from here.
Hail to the bird using my hanging flowers to build a nest on my front porch. Hail to the hummingbird who sits in my tiny olive tree. Hail to ZOOM classes, books, and summertime. It's not what I planned, but what's not to love? So, how you doing? 
"You're only going to be as good as the stuff you surround yourself with." ~Austin Kleon
Writer: Stephanie Karfelt/S.R. Karfelt/Saffi Karfelt
Specialty: Seeing the bright side 
Aspirations: Backing up all my photos

Monday, August 31, 2020

Midnight Sun by Stephenie Myer—a book review


On Goodreads Midnight Sun by Stephenie Meyer has approaching 30K reviews with an average rating of nearly four stars. That's not so shabby. Do you remember that Meyer began writing this book back when Twilight was popular and the partial draft got stolen and posted online? She stopped writing it and said she wouldn't pick it up again until someday when we'd all forgotten about it. Despite having read the online excerpt, and enjoying it, that was so long ago I'd definitely forgotten about it. 

In fact I had no idea this book was out. Once I did, I tried to get a copy but there were none to be had. (I wanted a hard copy.) A kind reader mailed me one. I took it to a local lake house for my one and only vacation this year, and read it sitting by the lake. It took me all week to finish the whopping 658 pages. 

It wasn't just the size that slowed me down. It's that throughout the entire book I kept drifting into the realization that I'd read this book before. It's the entire first Twilight book from Edward's perspective and I mean it's that entire book scene by scene. Sometimes I'd stop reading to hunt down a young adult and quiz them about the Twilight world. I couldn't figure out why I knew so much about the vampire's perspective in Midnight Sun as I read it. Why were the rare bits of new information that weren't in the original Twilight books still so familiar to me? 

The young adults told me because it's the same book, with the haughty disdain of people who don't want to admit to their teenage obsession. A couple of them told me that the Twilight books are popular with women "my age" and not theirs. Years ago I wrote a review for Twilight, admitting I liked the books. I don't entirely believe that millennials don't plan to read the latest book. Thirty thousand women "my age" didn't leave all those reviews on Goodreads. I know this because many of them don't even know how to leave a review on Goodreads.

One of the reasons I've defended Twilight to my serious reader/writer friends is simple. If a book sells millions of copies and spawns fan clubs and movies, it has succeeded in taking readers into another world and is an undeniable success. Picking on the writing or characters feels like sour grapes to me. If you want a higher brow book, read one or better yet, write one. I read a bit of everything—fiction to non-fiction, literary to Twilight. Sometimes I want to be educated and sometimes I want to escape.

All that said, I wasn't crazy about this book. I plodded through the last couple hundred pages, muttering to myself. I had a copy of Glennon Doyle's book with me too, Untamed.  I didn't want to finish it on vacation though because it makes me yell at my husband. I thought there would be more new information in Midnight Sun, but the greater bulk of the book is Edward's feelings and they're not all that different from Bella's. There was also what seemed like some justification of Edward's actions—you know his stalker behavior. Not to mention some justifying Bella's wimpier moments. I didn't care, but sometimes it made me chuckle because he did stalk her (and I'd bet most stalkers feel their actions are justified), and sometimes we're all wimps and we justify those times to ourselves too.

It didn't matter to me. Though there were also times I enjoyed the mental gymnastics of all the justifying. I write and it's great insight to really dig into your characters. But it didn't forward the story for me. It didn't matter. Sure, I could have stopped reading it, but what if I missed something interesting?

The beginning is fun, though I couldn't tell where the stolen online excerpt info ended and the new book began. It seemed like halfway in. The pace is slow. There is some new information, but it felt like panning for gemstones in all Edward's feelings and they can be a bloody mess. The ending gave the greatest amount of new information, yet even the part where the Cullen's are tracking down James the tracker didn't really tell much that was new. I did enjoy the details of the car race through Phoenix to the ballet studio. I enjoyed how Alice's vision works. I would have liked to know more about Jasper's brilliance. Emmett is a great side character, and Rosalie's cussing out Edward at the top of her mental lungs was probably my favorite detail.

Despite my criticisms, if Stephenie Myer's writes all the books from Edward's perspective, I'd probably read them. It's fun. You can only put so much detail into a book without slowing it down and boring your readers, but doing it like this does enrich a story with it's depth. Yes, I said Twilight and depth in the same sentence. Midnight Sun is a nice enough summer read and I enjoyed some COVID escapism. Kudos to the author on that accomplishment alone. We all need to go somewhere these days. If it's a familiar neighborhood we all used to like, what more could you want? Hopefully you'll read it too and come argue your perspective with me. Especially you millennials. Read what you like, and like what you like, no apologies. That's advice from a woman "my age".