• Creeps will be Creeps

    So I had someone reach out to me who should never have tracked me down about something that was none of my business two days ago, and it’s not important as to how it happened, but it did. Not disclosing details because I respect the entity that allowed it to happen.

    And it creeped me out even though I responded cordially to begin with– I did that before I really realized what it meant. I responded as I would respond to someone who reached out my inquiry form which is what happened, instead of really stopping to think about how this person even got my name to begin with.

    It creeped me out such that night before last, I dreamed I was being forced to marry someone who wanted to be violent with me. And despite whatever ways I tried to disentangle myself, the person in my dream was persistent and ultimately prevailed. I woke up before I was killed in my dream, but not before I was hurt– there was violence with a knife in my dream.

    And apparently the person who tracked me down and reached out via my inquiry form on this blog decided, for no really great reason, to follow me on social media, as well. Luckily, I figured it out and was able to block the person. But given the particulars of the situation that admittedly I know I am being vague about, that was top-level creep-factor. Though it is hard to say which was creepier– the social media follow or the inquiry form contact.

    I am being vague on purpose not to protect the creep in question, but to protect my relationships with others.

    And for about 13-14 hours, I decided to make this blog password-only, because it felt like a violation. I was unsure as to whether I even wanted to keep blogging.

    And then I decided that creeps will be creeps, and just like with people from my past, I am not going to let one really weird creep determine whether or not I like to write publicly or not.

    And, I happen to like blogging. So, I am going to keep blogging. And I’m not going to worry about the creeps. The creeps don’t get to win.

  • This Young Man is a Future Grinnellian!!

    There are no words, but I’m going to write some anyway.

    In 2005, I moved to this little middle-of-nowhere-Iowa town named Grinnell, because Jared, my new husband, worked for them at the time.

    And in 2006, because Jared had been employed for Grinnell over two years at the time, Grinnell provided six weeks of paid paternity leave for Jared when I gave birth to our oldest son, Porter. At the time, Jared had just started his Master’s of Library Science program at the University of Iowa, and because Grinnell was very generous Jared was able to fully concentrate on only his schoolwork and Porter and me for the full first six weeks of Porter’s life. Porter was in the University of Iowa NICU for five and a half of those weeks, so it was very, very, very nice to not be without our normal income during that tumultuous time.

    And, Jared was in school to begin with at the University of Iowa because Grinnell College was paying for his Master’s program.

    And, when we received the bill for Porter’s NICU stay, we paid a grand total of $210 of Porter’s $500k medical bill thanks to Grinnell’s very generous medical benefits.

    And, our middle son, Liam, this year applied to Grinnell College for Early Decision 2.

    And not only did Liam get into Grinnell College…..he received so much in scholarships and other aid that it is going to cost less than 1/3 of what it would cost for housing and meals alone at UGA, even counting that he’d likely receive the HOPE and Zell Miller Scholarships.

    As I said, there are no words. I am so very beyond grateful, and very, very, very proud of and for Liam, and so very excited that Liam will have an opportunity to be a part of the very wonderfully diverse and vibrant culture that is Grinnell College.

  • Facing a Fear: I Did It

    I do not like dealing with my toenails. At all.

    When I was a little girl, my Mama had to hold me down to let them cut my toenails.

    It was bad. Really.

    The issue is compounded by the fact that with the scoliosis and spinal fusion, I actually can’t get to my toes super well at all. I can cut my own toenails as an adult, but it is not the easiest thing in the world.

    So when my big left toenail became fungal three years ago, I was filled with a sort of existential dread.

    And immediately, within the month, I went to a podiatrist, who promptly told me it didn’t look like a typical fungus and that I should come back in a year if it was giving me trouble.

    Three years later, it had mostly stopped growing the entirety of those three years and it was clear it was indeed a fungal infection.

    So last September, I faced it and went to the podiatrist, sure they would remove it that very day.

    Turns out podiatrist offices don’t work that way.

    She gave me some ketoconazole and told me to use it and Vicks and she didn’t know how long it would take to clear up; when I mentioned removal she said it was an option.

    Then in December when I mentioned the whole episode to my dermatologist at my appointment there, she said that the ketoconazole was going to do nothing, and gave me some weird enamel paint stuff that made my nail hard and told me to file it weekly.

    That stuff took away permanently any hope of actually cutting my toenails, and actually, for some reason the toenail started growing into the base of my toenail bed, backwards.

    And the backwards growth was what promptly sent me back to the podiatrist last week, begging to have the whole thing just taken off permanently.

    Which is no small thing, because of that whole fear of people messing with my toenails.

    And in fact, the fear is so bad that one of my greatest all-time primal fears ever has ever been someone prying off my toenails.

    So yesterday, as I sat just after having my left big toe injected with local anesthetic to deaden it, I posted this on Facebook:

    “So one of my most primal fears is having my toenails, specifically my big toenails, pried off. No joke, in the midst of the only time I had to be restrained due to psychiatric reasons, the delusion of the day was that they were restraining me to pry my big toenails off.

    So what am I sitting in the podiatrist’s chair waiting on? To have my left big toenail removed, permanently.

    It’s been fungal for at least 3 years but it has given me trouble with ingrown issues since I was a child.

    I am ecastatic it will be gone permanently, and not worried about the cosmetics, and I guess technically today is an achievement and exercise in facing one of my worst fears, all by myself since Jared is at work.

    And the dr says I made it through the worst part, which was the deadening injections.

    And I can go shopping for stuff for the weekend’s weather, too.

    I don’t normally keep my phone with me during Dr appts but she said it was fine for distracting myself.”

    The doctor said afterward, with my having told her about the fear, and told her nurse about the fear, beforehand, that she’d made sure she deadened it well and made sure to let it sit long enough to for sure be effective because she really didn’t want to have to come back in and poke me with a needle again after having hurt me with the procedure.

    But sure enough, the procedure itself took like 5 minutes, maybe 10 max, and it was not bad at all. I took a photo I will spare the world after, in fact– you know, with photography being my coping mechanism for everything and all– of the exposed toe bed before it got wrapped up in the bandage post procedure. I’d taken a photo of it before the procedure started, too, for posterity.

    And pretty much the rest of my whole morning and yesterday during the day was set up for success, because I’d done the very thing I was afraid of most as a child, probably. And that’s saying something considering they cut me open on front and back and messed with my innards in a very dramatic fashion for that scoliosis surgery.

  • Randomness

    You know what? I sure have missed writing.

    Also, randomness: I’m pretty darn good at Russian on Duolingo. Apparently there were hidden subconscious benefits to spending a good amount of time in my toddler years in a college language lab, as Russian, Greek, and Spanish are all fairly intuitive in addition to the French I did actually study.

    And, there’s a new job to get ready for, and I am glad.

    And it’s nearly tax season, and I am glad about that, too.

    But, it’s bedtime. And with said job on the horizon, routine is becoming super-duper important.

    And apparently my back is really messed up. I don’t know why my spine is a corkscrew, but it is.

    Poor Abby has to have a dental on February 2; she has an infection in her mouth and will have to have several teeth pulled too. I guess that comes from us not brushing her teeth– sorry girl. She’s been a trooper but we finally got her to the vet today. I am so thankful my therapy dog only has to have a dental and it was nothing worse to worry about. I was afraid she had kidney issues.

    Aside from the trip to the vet, it was a good day.

    I’m thankful to be getting back into the headspace that I can concentrate on writing. It’s been a long winter and I am grateful that the fictionalized memoir is still a project on the horizon. It may take me a decade to write, but will be well-worth it.