So I went for the EEG on Friday, the one to determine whether I actually do have epilepsy. My biggest concern is that if it’s not epilepsy, I’d like to know just what *is* causing my episodes, because they get freakier and freakier by the day. My second biggest concern is that I’ve been on anticonvulsants for over two years, and I’d like to not take unnecessary meds for a second longer.

I called the doc on Monday, because waiting is not the forte in the brain of the SarahK. I was informed that the doctor only reads the EEGs and EEG reports on Fridays, and since I’d had my EEG on Friday, my report wouldn’t be available until this coming Friday (tomorrow). Okay, I can wait until then. Oh, but the doctor went on vacation Tuesday for ten days. When he gets back, he’ll have to wait until the following Friday to read the results, because, again, he only reads his results on Fridays. So basically his assistant told me I would be waiting three weeks for my results. Awesome.

I get that he’s the epileptologist, and since he’s the big freaky brain-waves expert, he wants to make sure he’s the one to read everything, I do get that. But I’m also thinking that since my report was available to him on Friday, the same day I took the test, he could have done one of two things: read the report Friday afternoon or Monday, or coordinate with another neuro to read his patients’ test results in case they call in his absence. As someone waiting on pins and needles (and feeling pins and needles all over my body), I don’t think it’s too much to hope for. If he read the results differently when he returned, he could call and tell me that he disagrees and all that.

Oh, then his assistant told me that he’ll go over my results with me at my follow-up appointment. That’s great, but my follow-up isn’t until September, and considering that the good doctor made it clear that he thinks there is .0000001% chance that I have a seizure disorder, I don’t want to be on meds for another month or six weeks while I’m waiting for him to tell me that, yes, I should get off the unnecessary meds.

Bah.

I’ve started researching again, because he’s pretty much got me convinced that it’s something else. Also because of the freakish ramping up of symptoms this week. I sometimes get these electrical pops (harsh ones) in my right thigh while walking. Only occasionally, but it freaks me out when it happens, because my tingly symptoms are at their worst then. So yesterday evening, I was walking to the kitchen at work to grab something off the printer, and I felt the electrical pop. Ow, fine, nothing new. A few steps later, I felt the same type of shock from mid-calf all the way down to my ankle. And every time I moved my foot yesterday evening, I felt the same shock. It finally went away after Bible study, but it was back today. That stuff? That makes me lose my mind a little.

Anyway, the research has turned up some good possibilities. Bad ones, too, of course. MS, but an MRI two years ago came up empty in that respect, and I’m so grateful for that. It’s also possible that it was there and the radiologist missed it. The other thing that keeps coming up is a calcium deficiency. Makes sense. Things seem to have gotten worse with the tinglies since I quit dairy again in March. And then since we thought these were seizures, Dr. Wonderful upped my dose and told me to get my butt to a new neuro STAT. And they’ve gotten worse since the increased dose of seizure meds, and as it turns out, calcium deficiency can be exacerbated by anticonvulsants. Vicious circle I’ve got myself in, no? Calcium deficiency also makes sense, because it could be caused by another autoimmune. Hypoparathyroidism can be an underlying cause of calcium deficiency, and considering I’ve got a thyroid issue and celiac (diagnosed, undiagnosed, either way my intolerance of gluten is autoimmune), it could follow that my parathyroid glands could be compromised by autoimmune issues. When a person has one autoimmune disease, there is a 40% chance of developing a second autoimmune. GI/celiac = 1. Thyroid could be #2. Parathyroid #3? Wouldn’t surprise me. Not to mention that four years of malabsorption has seriously compromised the balance of minerals and vitamins in my body.

And honestly, it would be the best news. Calcium supplements for the rest of my life would be likely, but it’s so much better than the prospect of MS or living with epilepsy.

I have an appointment with a family practitioner Monday. One, I need a referral to an endocrinologist. Two, I’m not waiting three weeks to jump on this. I’ve already started cutting down my anticonvulsant dose; no, I didn’t consult a doctor, because he’s on vacation. I cut my nighttime dose in half and am still taking the same morning dose. I’ll do that for a few weeks, and maybe by then I’ll have found out about the epilepsy. Anyway, I normally avoid family practices like the plague (namely because with all the little snot-nosed kids running around, it’s likely I’ll actually contract the plague on a routine doctor visit). I actually decided to see this one because a girl at church recommended her. She (the doctor) has a daughter who was recently diagnosed with celiac, and she’s apparently researched the crap out of it, just like me. So I’m thinking when I suggest calcium deficiency, she won’t balk and wave me off; she’ll probably think it’s likely and send me for the serum tests to confirm.

So that’s the update.

In case you didn’t see it on IMAO, where I posted this yesterday:

Frank received a letter from the RNC yesterday. Simply seeing a letter from those clueless losers makes me collapse in fits of giggles, because I know they’re going to ask for money, and the answer is always a resounding “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Anyway, y’all know where this is going, so I’ll just get started.

First, the date:

Wednesday Morning

Hey, that’s *today’s* date (well, it was this morning)! Seriously, what kind of date is “Wednesday Morning”? We get those roughly fifty-two times a year. I’m starting to think they recycle these letters. Dear Mr. J, blah blah blah, ah.

I don’t want to believe you’ve abandoned the Republican Party

I don’t want to believe the Republican Party’s abandoned me either, but I also didn’t want to believe that they killed off Captain America or that Buffy broke up with Spike. Lousy do-gooder.

but I have to ask… Have you given up?

Um, duh? Has any conservative not given up?

Our records show we have not yet received your Republican National Committee membership renewal for the critical 2008 presidential election year.

Presumptive much? Your records should also show you have not yet received our Republican National Committee membership renewal since about 2004, when the Republicans started acting like they didn’t win that election and started being like Democrats with the spending and the hating conservatives.

As the Treasurer of the RNC, I know our Party’s success depends directly on grassroots leaders like you.

What? The Treasurer wrote this letter? Why don’t you just get the RNC Historian to write to us so we know just how important we are?

So I am surprised and concerned especially because I know how generously you supported President Bush and the RNC in the past.

And after that generous support, imagine our surprise when President Bush and the RNC started screwing us every chance they got! (Except lately, with the oil thing, but he should have done that ages ago.)

You helped to advance our vision for America and elect Republicans at all levels of government.

Hey, we accept no credit/blame for anyone but the conservative one. Or two. There are two, right? Please tell me there are two.

Mr. J, I know other things come up, and perhaps you’ve just been delayed in renewing your membership. If that’s the case, I understand.

I hope you also understand that we hate you and would moon you from the back seat if we passed you on the highway.

But we’ve not heard from you this year — and I hope you haven’t deserted our Party.

Party with a capital P. They’re important.

Your generous financial assistance and active involvement are more important than ever as we work to elect a new Republican president and Congress.

But we asked for a conservative president and Congress, not Republican ones. Sorry to nitpick.

There is so much at stake. The Democrats are determined to put a liberal like Barack Obama in the White House,

The Republicans are determined to put a liberal like John McCain in the White House, so your argument would have gone better if you’d called Obama a socialist.

expand their narrow majorities in the U.S. House and Senate, and push our country to the Left [again with the capitals?] with their agenda of high taxes, big government and weakened national security.

Big government and weakened national security. That reminds me of this one time when the president passed every bill the big government Democrats put in front of him and this other time when John McCain decided that sovereign borders have nothing to do with national security. Good times.
(more…)

If I ever decide I want to Trip on Tulips, I’ll just hyperventilate for three minutes with my eyes closed.

I had my EEG Friday afternoon at St. Luke’s in Meridian. Other than all the torture tests they put me through, it was really rather pleasant. At my last EEG, the woman was sitting in the room with me, and the monitor was right next to my head. At this one, I was in a comfy recliner with the lights completely out, and the EEG girl was in the room next door. Made for a nice short nap.

The thing I love most about the EEGs is all the stuff they do to your scalp. They measure your head, mark different spots according to the measurements, and then scrub those little spots with a soap that must be full of cayenne pepper, because it burns a little (only for a few minutes). Then they go through and put gritty goop on the same spots — feels like some kind of gel mixed with baking soda. They stick all the electrodes to the goop and wrap your head in a towel so the electrodes don’t peel themselves off.

So the EEG girl (who does those? Radiologists? Brain specialists? I don’t know.) got my head ready, reclined my chair, gave me a pillow, turned out the lights, and left the room. She came on over a speaker and told me to open my eyes, close my eyes, open my eyes, close my eyes. Then it was time for mandatory hyperventilation. That part is always fun. You have to keep your eyes closed and breathe in and out deeply for three minutes. In through the mouth, out through the mouth. Try it for thirty seconds — it’s harder than it sounds. Your throat gets dry, you want water, and you really need to swallow, but you can’t, because what if you screw up the EEG because you couldn’t handle the breathing part of the drill? I did fine during the hyperventilation, just concentrated on *not* breathing through my nose. And then the hyperventilation ended. Invisible Voice Girl told me I could breathe normally again and relax, because I would get to nap for the next fifteen or so minutes. My eyes were still closed, and I decided I would take advantage of naptime. As I settled in, something really funky happened. First I started seeing my own face slowly transform from Normal SarahK Face to Comic Book SarahK Face, which I didn’t know existed. As I watched myself morph, a new player came onto the screen: Comic Book Monster. I assume that at some later point, Comic Book SarahK Face would face off with Comic Book Monster, but I can’t be sure, because the pictures stopped. Then began the Purple Windshield Wipers. Bright vivid purple started washing over my eyes in the motion that your windshield wipers move the rain off your windshield, except these wipers started at the tops of my eyelids and moved in downward motions. Fuh-reaky. I watched the color show for a minute or so, and then I was done. Asleep.

Invisible Voice Girl came in and put the strobe light in front of my face. My eyes were still closed, and she went in the other room and did several minutes of light show for me, trying to trigger seizures. After that test was over, she watched my brain for another minute or two and then came in to tell me I was all done.

I spent the rest of the day at work, occasionally picking crusty goop out of my hair.

If my doctor doesn’t call with results today, I’ll call him. I don’t like all this waiting.

Occasionally I do. Can’t have it. Gluten and whatnot. I don’t miss it much, but the other day, Frank and I were walking through the grocery store, and we saw these giant bags of Chex Mix. Frank said, “Ooh! Chex Mix!” He’s gluten-free for my health, so my immediate response was, “I’m sorry.”

Well. Rice Chex has gone gluten-free.

I’m going to have to do what Shauna did and get myself a box. So many snacks I can make with Rice Chex!

This meal is one of our weekly staples, but I modify it to make it even better. Here’s how.

First, the ingredients. I leave all of the measurements the same for the sauce, but I drop the meat down to two chicken breasts, since there are only two of us. I don’t do mixed salad greens much, and I love spinach, so I replace the mixed greens with spinach. I also use Thai Chili sauce where it calls for hot sauce — gives it that extra zing. If you are GF/DF, check your wasabi paste — I bought one once that had either wheat or dairy in it, so now I buy wasabi powder and make up my own paste with a little bit of coconut milk (works better than water for wasabi purposes, makes the wasabi creamier). If I’ve recently made something that calls for port wine (I have exactly one recipe that calls for that), I’ll use the port instead of red wine and cut out some of the sugar. If you don’t like sweet food, cut back on the sugar anyway, because this sauce is sweet. I leave out the tomatoes, because Frank just pushes them to the side anyway. The recipe doesn’t call for it, but I sprinkle garlic powder over the spinach leaves before topping the spinach with anything else; with that modification, this meal has all of the ingredients of my guac.

I don’t follow the directions with this one at all, really. I don’t bake the chicken. I make the sauce as it requires, and after I’ve added the orange juice and wasabi, I saute the chicken in the sauce until done. While the chicken is sauteeing, I fill up the plates. First the spinach, then garlic powder. Red onion next. Kosher salt. Fresh ground pepper. Thai chile sauce. Lime juice (I use half a lime for each plate). Avocado (sometimes 1/2 an avocado for each salad, and sometimes a whole avocado for each). When the chicken is done, I put that on the salads, and I spoon on liberal amounts of the sauce. Sometimes I add colby jack cheese (if I think I’ll tolerate it).

It’s really a great salad, and even the vegetable-hatin’ Frank loves it when I make this.

Frank and I got new phones today. Email me or comment if you have the old number and want the new one.

p.s. Essay, we can now talk for free!

I have my EEG today (Friday), and since they want me sleep-deprived, I’m only allowed to sleep for four hours, so I have to go to bed at 2 and get up at 6. Elle has specific instructions to ensure that I don’t nap before my noon-ish test. After I get back to work, all bets are off.

It wasn’t hard to stay up, actually, until I remembered at 12:35 that I hadn’t taken my evening dose of seizure meds (I take them when I’m getting into bed, and since I’m hanging out on the couch watching Tivo’d General Hospital and getting ready to play Mario Kart, I haven’t actually gotten into bed yet). And about ten minutes after I took them, I got the sleepies.

I think before Mario Kart, I’ll check my Brain Age on Frank’s Nintendo DS. The past two times I’ve done it, my brain age has been 20 (that’s the youngest possible brain age). I wonder how it’ll do when I’m running on empty…

Ok, this one is super-easy and ready in about 30-45 minutes.

What you need:

*5 large red potatoes (with skins, they’re the healthiest part!)
*3 or 4 heaping Tbsp extra-virgin, unrefined coconut oil
*2 or 3 tsp extra-virgin, unrefined red palm oil
Note: You can use olive oil instead of coconut and palm if you prefer, but I’d use less of the olive oil. The reason I use the palm at all is for the olive oil flavor. But you have to use palm oil very sparingly, or the olivey flavor overpowers everything else. So I use mostly coconut with the palm thrown in for flavor. I wouldn’t use canola or another flavorless oil.
*2 to 4 cloves garlic to taste (I use 4), chopped roughly - not too small
*3 serrano peppers, cut up but not too small or they burn (optional)
*3 shallots (optional)
*Kosher salt to taste (remember if you normally cook with table salt, you will use less of the Kosher salt, because it’s more vibrant in flavor)
*Fresh ground or cracked black pepper to taste
*Any other spices you want to use — I used dried dill this week, and they were even yummier, but they are perfectly yummy with just the salt & pepper. Old Bay would probably be good, too. Basil. Chili powder. Curry. Whatevs.

What you do:

This is the part I never do the same: heating the oven. I can never remember whether to do 325 or 375, so lately I’ve just been setting it to 350. That works fine. I put about half of the coconut oil on the bottom of the baking dish (9×13-ish), and I don’t melt it first — that would just be one more dish to wash. Add the potatoes, garlic, serranos, shallots — I kind of layer. Potatoes, then the other stuff, then potatoes. Top with globs of the rest of the coconut oil & the palm oil (spread out the globs). Top with salt, pepper, and spices.

Pop the dish into the oven, and stir every five or ten minutes. Make sure you stir the stuff at the bottom of the dish, too, or the garlic and peppers like to stick and burn. Potatoes are done in 30-45 minutes. We like them plain or dipped in Maull’s BBQ sauce.

Oh. Funny story. The other night Frank was helping with dinner, and I had emailed him very specific instructions, because I was working late. I even said in the email, “When you open the oven to stir the potatoes, don’t stick your face right in it, because you’ll burn your face off. Open the oven, back off, and then move closer after a few seconds.” Our oven really hits you in the face if you open it while it’s on. So I got home and helped him get everything into the oven. Then I went to Wiirk Out (update on that tomorrow). While I was working out, I reminded him to stir the potatoes. This happened:

FRANK: Ow.
SARAHK: Did you burn your face off?
FRANK: Oven hot.
SARAHK: I told you.
FRANK: I didn’t hear you. Oven hot.
SARAHK: I told you in the email. You read the email, right?
FRANK: It was long.

He’s so cute.

You Can Definitely Spot a Liar

Maybe you have good instincts. Or maybe you just have a lot of experience with liars. Either way, it’s pretty hard for someone to pull a fast one on you. You’re like a human lie detector.

(found at Tammi’s World)

Congratulations, y’all are the blessed recipients of my new blog series (over/under on how long it will last? And can someone tell me what over/under means?). It starts today and will probably be erratic and happen on whichever day I remember to do it. I’ve wanted to do this for a while to help out newly diagnosed celiacs (like Kate, who I’m sure does not need my help, kitchen queen that she is) and/or bored old hat celiacs. Anyway, it’s my gluten-free menu for the week. You’ll notice several menu items that will pop in almost every week and sometimes twice a week (I’m looking at you, roasted garlic potatoes and avocado chicken salad). This isn’t because gluten-free limits you on variety (on the contrary, I eat a bigger variety of foods than I ever did when I was on gluten) but because we love these dishes.

The other reason I want to do this (besides the helping people) is so people can rid themselves of the notion that gluten-free means eating naked (with no seasonings, breading, sauces, gravies) and choking down a plain chicken breast with a couple of lettuce leaves every night.

You may thank Kate for inspiring to get off my butt and do this and another series I’ve been planning. More on that one later. See, sometimes I just need motivation and something to talk about.

Alright, so I’ll give you my menu (planned or unplanned, depending on the week) each week and then try to include recipes once or twice a week for some of the items on the menu.

Keep in mind that I’m gluten-free, dairy-free, corn-limited, and egg-limited. People out there who are gluten-free only have it even better.

This week’s menu:

Monday
*Baked BBQ Chicken
*Roasted Garlic Potatoes
*Fresh fruit

Okay, I know that sounds boring, but it’s not. This is one of my standby meals for when I just don’t feel like cooking or I work late or whatever. I use Wal-mart brand chicken and keep a couple of bags of it in the freezer. Wal-mart is really good about marking their food gluten-free if it is, and their holding solution doesn’t contain wheat (as of today), so it’s safe for me. I also bought a case of Maull’s barbecue sauce a couple of months ago, because all of their sauce is GF except the beer sauce, and because Lou went out of his way to verify his sauces are GF. We’re big fans of the Jalapeno (it is our favorite so far) sauce. We also like the Sweet & Smoky and the Kansas City Style (not so much the Genuine, and we haven’t yet tried the Sweet & Mild or the Onion & Garlic). Once we have a grill, I’ll do this on the grill, but for now, I slather the chicken in the sauce and bake it on the broiling pan. I like to make this with the potatoes, because I can do both in the oven at the same time, and dinner is ready in about 45 minutes — also because we like to dip the potatoes in the BBQ sauce. I’ll post the recipe for the potatoes this week.

Tuesday
*Avocado Salad with Orange-Wasabi Glazed Chicken, with modifications. This is one of the meals that Frank considers a “special” meal, even though I make it every week. I’ll post all of my modifications soon, because I make several.
*Fresh fruit

Wednesday
*Hamburgers - yes, we can eat hamburgers, and the buns taste so much better! I made buns (giant muffins, really) from Pamela’s bread mix this weekend, so last night we ate hamburgers (or muffinburgers, as Frank calls them).
*Broccoli (for my calcium)
*Fresh fruit (see a pattern here?)

Thursday
*Sushi - California rolls and shrimp sushi
*Wasabi (powder mixed with coconut milk)
*Tamari (most soy sauce contains wheat. La Choy doesn’t. I buy reduced-sodium Tamari, because the fully loaded stuff is way too salty)

Friday
*Chicken Tikka Masala
*Basmati Rice

Saturday
*Chicken chimichangas (make sure your enchilada sauce is wheat-free — the old standbys are not). I fry mine in Nutiva coconut oil and leave out the cheese. I also top each chimi with La Costena salsa verde before topping with the guac. And instead of the guac mixture called for in the recipe, I top it with SarahK’s Super-Awesome Guacamole.
*Fresh fruit

Sunday
*Some kind of salmon
*And we’re going to have parsnips. I’ve never had them. Ever. Suggestions are welcome.

Stay classy and patriotic, Senator Obama.

This is our next president. If I hear one more liberal say Bush is a moron…

So here’s the deal. It all comes down to money and gambling. That part of it makes me crazy. I’m not a gambler, period. I don’t gamble unless it’s casino night at work and they give you chips to play with and it’s all fake and there is no real money involved. But that’s really what this medical thing is, gambling.

Money. EEG, I can afford the 20% copay, no problem. The study is a three day to week long stay in the hospital. I have a 20% copay for the hospital stay, 20% on inpatient doctor care, and 20% on labs & diagnostics. My out-of-pocket max is $3,000, and I’m thinking Brain Tivo plus room plus doctor is going to put me over my $3,000 max. So I pay $3,000 for that, and that makes everything a little easier to determine. Except that it’s a gamble.

I’m scheduled for an EEG, and the records have been requested from Dr. Wonderful. If I do the EEG this week and it turns out I do have epilepsy, then we tinker with meds and such. And still possibly do the epilepsy study in a few months if I don’t respond as well to med tinkering as I should.

This is the part that didn’t click with me yesterday: If I don’t have epilepsy, we start back at square one, whether I do the EEG this week or wait for the Brain Tivo. Why the tingles, the weird sensation, the harsh electrical pops in my thighs during some episodes (and *only* during episodes, never independent). And if we start back at square one, that means MRIs, etc… more money. I miss our Florida health insurance, where MRIs were $75.

This part didn’t click with me yesterday evening as I tried to digest it all. If I don’t do the EEG and I do the study and it turns out to not be epilepsy, that means I’ve wasted my $3K on impatience, because that’s what it comes down to, isn’t it? I don’t want to go through months of tests, so let’s get it all out of the way, and oh by the way, if I’d just had that EEG I wouldn’t have needed the hospital stay at all and I could have just gotten that D-SLR I had my eye on.

So I’m on the fence. Now the options look like this:

Option 1. Spend a small amount of money for an EEG now. Find out I don’t have epilepsy. Go through additional tests to eliminate everything except migraine, which we know I have.

Option 2. Spend a small amount of money for an EEG now. Find out that epilepsy is a good diagnosis. Do the $3,000 Brain Tivo study anyway to find out why my seizures are so unusual and how to properly treat them. Possibly have additional tests.

Option 3. Spend $3,000 for the Brain Tivo hospital stay. Find out I don’t have epilepsy and just wasted $3K. Go through additional tests to eliminate everything except migraine, which we know I have.

Option 4. Spend $3,000 for the Brain Tivo hospital stay. Find out that epilepsy is a good diagnosis, only now we know why my seizures are so unusual and how to properly treat them.

Looking at it that way, I’m leaning toward getting the EEG this week and then setting up the study if epilepsy is confirmed.

Ack. I hate being a grownup and having to make grownup decisions.

Oh, I forgot to mention. The doc was talking about triggering my seizures during the Brain Tivo. I said, “Just give me a piece of bread.” He laughed. “Yeah, you can eat a piece of bread and wash it down with a beer.” “Yep, that’ll do it.” Don’t worry, I’m not going to do either of those things. I hope he knew I was kidding. Beer’s gross and glutenous.

Y’all get to help me make a decision: week in the hospital or more med tinkering, months of tests, etc.?

So I saw my new neurologist today. He didn’t have any of my records, so he had to go on what I could tell him (which was quite a lot — he hardly stopped typing his notes the whole time he was in with me). I puzzled him.

Gotta tell ya. Being the puzzle for the doctors? Getting old. Wow, that was three sentence fragments right in a row.

So this doc specializes in epilepsy and seizure disorders, and I puzzled him. Studied at Barrows in Phoenix and then did his epilepsy fellowship at Stanford for two years. And I make no sense, medically. The way I describe my seizures (or whatever they are, as it’s possible they’re not seizures at all) sounds nothing like any known seizure disorder.

He questioned me. I let him lead, because he was kind and didn’t talk down to me.

After I told him all I could think to tell him from all of his questions, he asked me if I’d ever had an MRI. Oh yes, lots. Actually, two related to the brain, and the one I didn’t mention was the one my primary sent me for when he stuck an ear-looky-thingy in my ear and I yelped in pain from a light touch. I told the doc today that I had the MRI in late 2006 or early 2007 (it all runs together, though my archives probably have a decent timeline), and that Dr. Wonderful (who, don’t get me wrong, is still Dr. Wonderful, whether he diagnosed me correctly or not) had been looking for MS but found no plaques on my spinal cord. I forgot to mention that he did find the L4 to L5 pinched nerve, but I tend to only think of that when my low back aches, such as at this moment. Anyway, new doc said that was where he was going, because MS would fit fairly well, except that if you have an MS flareup, the symptoms come and stay awhile, they don’t come intermittently as mine do, so MS doesn’t fit so well after all.

I told him about my triggers. Stress, lack of sleep, more than one glass of wine can do it, gluten, dairy. Gluten is the harshest trigger and causes the worst episodes.

I told him how the whatevers manifest. The tingling all over my body, burning in my toes, ear lobes, and fingers. I even have episodes where my scalp will suddenly light up. It feels like electricity is radiating from one spot, outward in all directions, almost like someone is pouring water on my head. They don’t always start in the same place. That is apparently not textbook for seizures.

Yet he’s baffled, because the Keppra has worked pretty well, and while many anticonvulsants and antiepileptics also work great as antidepressants and antianxiety meds, Keppra only does its magics on seizures.

He said he can rule out a spinal cord cause, because most of my episodes manifest above the spinal cord (hoo-hah tingles notwithstanding), in my face and head. Also probably not the nerves, since those would be burning sensations around the nerves rather than tingling sensations wherever. Plus, Dr. Wonderful’s wife did those horrible nerve conduction tests last year, where she zapped me over and over just to make sure I could feel pain in all my nerves, and yes, oh yes, I could feel the pain. Followed by the EMG, where she stuck me with needles all over my body while telling me to relax and keep still and apologizing for all the torture.

Which leaves the brain. And then the doc explained why the brain thing doesn’t make sense. But then why does the Keppra help me, he wonders. You know how it is — you write down all the important stuff so you remember to tell him, and then you leave the piece of paper on your desk at work or in the car, and your brain doesn’t function properly when you’re sitting in front of him, perhaps so you can drive home the notion to him that yes, my brain has issues. So I forgot to mention that when I’m having lots of the episodes, I get all ragey and irrational (a definite symptom of epilepsy), and the episodes make me really tired.

We talked about migraine. I had the headaches for three years straight, hardly a day without one, kind of just one continuous pain party. I told him that I pretty much only get the migraines if I’ve had gluten or dairy. He started the sentence about how even doctors sometimes don’t realize that… I finished it for him. “Sometimes there’s no headache with migraine.” He seemed pleased that I knew that. So he’s playing with the possibility that the seizures are not seizures at all, that they’re manifestations of migraine. If I have to choose, I pick the pulsing, buzzing, and tingling migraines over the crushing death grip migraines. And it would be kinda nice if that’s what this is, because that would be one less med, and I could take the Excedrin Migraine more often when needed, because I wouldn’t have to worry about triggering seizures. I’d just worry about triggering more migraines, but the painless kind. That’s another thing, though. If I have the Excedrin, I start having the seizures about a half hour after taking it. I’ve assumed it’s because of the healthy dose of caffeine. Ooh! I could have caffeine if this turns out to not be epilepsy!

Long, rambling story short (and I do apologize for the ramble, but I came down with one of those death grip migraines right about dinner time, and it’s not letting up any time soon), I have two options.

Option 1. He’s given me a choice of meds that I can add to the Keppra. If the chosen med helps in a big way, he weans me off the Keppra. If it doesn’t help, we may have to go to Option 2 later anyway. Meanwhile, he gets my records from Florida, reads the EEG report and hopefully gets to see the actual EEG scribbles. Also, he runs his own EEG. Compares the two to see what we’ve got going on.

Option 2. Epilepsy study at the hospital. Which means a full week in the hospital, possibly cut down to three or four days, the entire time hooked up to an EEG Tivo where they can watch all my little brainwaves in all the different sitches. Did I say sitches? Help me. Day one, they’re recording my neurons in their natural habitat, as is, with the Keppra and all that. Day two, I’m hooked up to an IV, just in case what they do next causes a big ol’ honkin’ seizure. Because day two, they take me off the Keppra cold turkey and record all the activity. Sleep deprived, strobe lights, hyperventilating, they do all that. When they’ve studied enough of my brain pan, they either put me back on the meds or they don’t.

So it’s my choice, talk it over with your husband and let me know. What do I do? I’m kind of leaning toward the hospital thing, because tinkering with meds? Never fun. Also, no sense drawing it out if we don’t have to.

Anyway, I’d appreciate the input.

Frank is doing his Wii Fit workout.

FRANK: My trainer has a full beard like he’s in ZZ Top now. I love that when Frank sees a full beard, his first thought is ZZ Top. I don’t know why, but it kills me.
SARAHK: Oh yeah?
FRANK: And a ponytail.
SARAHK: Hippie! Your trainer is a hippie! I think mine’s a lesbian. I mean, she keeps trying to flirt with me. “Great JOB!” when I only do so-so yoga.
FRANK: What did you say? Your lesbian trainer keeps trying to flirt with you?
SARAHK: Yeah. Wait. I mean… She doesn’t train lesbians. She’s my trainer and a lesbian.

These are the conversations we have, because wii’re retarded.

St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in Idaho City

…Obama’s an idiot. I know you know this, and I know you know that I know, but I like to watch the spectacle who very well could take us into We’reallgonnadie Land. From Hot Air:

Obama will speak about “historic” US-German relations, but once again, Obama’s own grasp of history has been proven deficient. Not only does the site contain a monument to Prussian victories over other American allies in Europe, its placement was decided by Adolf Hitler — in order to impress crowds in his idealized version of Berlin called Germania

Awesome.

Team Obama has outdone themselves on symbolism with this choice. They’ve managed to make their hosts uncomfortable for a second time with their choice of rallying point, and perhaps more so this time. If one wanted to talk peace, what worse location could one choose than Adolf Hitler’s favorite monument to militaristic domination? One has to wonder how France, Denmark, and Austria will feel about Obama rallying German masses under the Siegessäule.

I can’t stop laughing at this. Obama has 300 foreign policy advisors — 300! And not one of them said, “Hey, uh… guys? This was a personal fave of Hitler, so maybe we should… um… reconsider?”

The more basic question is why Obama feels the need to conduct a campaign event among Germans. Meeting with foreign leaders makes sense for a man with no foreign policy experience whatsoever, but that doesn’t require massive rallies among people who aren’t voting in this election.

Why not? He’s had plenty of massive rallies among college kids, who swear up and down that they rilly rilly rilly are gonna vote for change this time, but when it comes down to it, they’ll just be so busy, with all the hangovers, studying, and skipping class.

We spent the day doing what I requested for today, which is sit around and watch Buffy and Angel. Are in the last season of Buffy and the fourth season of Angel. I made guacamole for lunch, and Frank went and got P.F. Chang’s for dinner (have I mentioned how much I love that they make a GF version of the Chang’s Spicy Chicken and the Dali Chicken?). The time we weren’t eating was spent wallowing in our day of doing one of our favorite things — staying home, being together, doing whatevs.

Last night we went to my in-laws’ and hung out. My FIL made barbecued salmon at my request, and my MIL made a GF apple pie (also my request). We also had a big platter of shrimp cocktail, which I devoured almost singlehandedly, twice-baked potatoes, grilled corn (yeah, when it’s grilled or roasted, I will never turn it down), salad, dairy-free peach ice cream, and so on and so forth. We had a great time. Eating, showing them Jib-Jab videos, and watching Batman Begins. Oh, and I got to bring home the leftover birthday pie. Yummy.

I got lots of good birthday booty. Pearl and diamond earrings to match my necklace (from my wonderful in-laws). DVDs, including My Man Godfrey from my SIL and a season of Friends (yep, I’m lame). Got the soundtrack for “Once More, With Feeling,” and the script (including sheet music) is on its way here. CDs, DVDs, Buffy Omnibus Volume 1 (which I will be starting on as soon as I finish this post), CDs, cash, lots more stuff, and Frank is buying me hiking boots as soon as I can work up the nerve. Yes, I need to work up nerve to buy hiking boots. What? They’re expensive, and what if they feel good in the store and I get them all broken in and they still don’t work for me?

wRitErsbLock called me this morning.

SARAHK: Hello.
WB: Happy birthday!
SARAHK: Thanks… [I was waiting for her signature song and confused, because she was not yet singing.]
WB: Or actually, I mean… [the song. Now she’s singing the song.]

We talked for a few minutes, which was a big feat, because neither of us cares much for phone talking. There was a lull in the conversation of maybe a millisecond.

SARAHK: Ok. Well… I’m done now.
WB: Ok, talk to you later!

It’s nice to have a friend who understands about the phone.

Later, Frank and I were playing Mario Kart, and Essay called to ask what we were doing. I knew what she wanted, which was to play Mario Kart with us. It only took about twenty minutes for us to be able to find each other on the Nintendo WFC. And then we played against her whole family. First we played Essay, and she kicked both our butts. Then we played her daughter, who is… eight? She killed us. Her five-year-old son whipped us both on Rainbow Road, and then we played her hubby. Yeah, we were both doing so poorly against him that before he started the final lap, we could see on the little map that he was parked at the starting line waiting for us. He waited and waited (this cracked me up), and when we finally caught up, he started up again. Frank actually won! So I called Essay. “Ha! We showed you!” I was crying with all the laughter and stuff. That was fun.

It was a good birthday, nice to rest from all the working and socializing we’ve been doing lately. Our brains have been tired and needed a rest.

Thanks to all of you for your birthday wishes. You totally rock my socks!

That’s how old I’ll be on Saturday. I have no coherent thoughts on the subject.

Songstress7 lost her husband. Send your support and keep her and her family in your prayers.

So we’re watching Angel, S3E13 (”Waiting in the Wings”). Angel and Co. are at the ballet, and this transpires:

FRANK: Hey, isn’t that River?
SARAHK: Ooh, Summer Glau? Lemme see. [I rewind.]
FRANK: That would make sense, because isn’t that how he knows her?
SARAHK: Oh yeah. From the ballet? That sounds right. Yep, that’s her. Cool.
FRANK: Yeah, I think that’s what Joss knows her from. She’s like a ballist, or whatever they’re called.
SARAHK: Um. A ballerina?

[We both crack up.]

FRANK: No, she’s that stuff that weighs down ships.

Tony Snow.

We’ll miss him.

SARAHK: I think it’s hilarious that the moon comes out here four hours before the sun goes down.
FRANK [seriously]: I wouldn’t call it laugh-out-loud hilarious…

Which, of course, made me laugh out loud. Like I’m so amused by the timeliness of the moon and the persistence of the sun.

Sundown here is so late. It seems like the sun never sleeps until at least nine, and it isn’t dark before ten p.m. Which is totally awesome. Even on the longest summer nights in Florida, it was pitch by 8:45 or so. But here, when it’s totally dark out, it really is bedtime. The moon is out before six in the evening, too, and it’s so bright and solid in the southeastern sky.

I love it here, have I mentioned?

Hey, so sorry about the absence. Like you noticed.

How was your Independence Day? Unless you were one of the 1215 airmen, Marines, sailors, and Soldiers who re-upped at the Al Faw Palace in Baghdad, it wasn’t nearly as good as mine (do you know how tingly I get simply knowing they did it at one of Saddam’s palaces?). Did any of you see a bald eagle, our national bird, on the nation’s birthday? I would say “me either,” except that I did, while floating down a river in the middle of the forested mountains. You wish you were me.

Oh my goodness, y’all, I can’t even put into words how much fun it was (but I’ll try). First off, I can’t believe that I was such a chicken about it before. The first time I hiked the Grand Canyon, I figured that hiking it was crazy enough (it is, a bit), and no way ever would I be insane enough to raft it or to ever raft any river, because that’s stupid and dangerous! I had canoed many times, but that just doesn’t have the scary factor that rafting has, for obvious reasons. I mean, canoeing can be really hard if you’re on the right river, but generally you’re only tipping over if you hit a tree or a log or something (done that).

Wow. So we drove up just past Horseshoe Bend to Cascade Raft & Kayak for our all-day rafting trip. The Cascade people are very nice, and the guides are great (well, I can’t really speak to all of them, but Eli was excellent). At the headquarters, they put us on a bus to take us to the North Fork of the Payette River, about a forty-five minute drive. Just driving up there is amazing. Since we were on the bus, we could see more than we could have seen had we been driving in the car; we could see down past the trees to the river and the miles and miles of Class V rapids that we passed. Breathtaking and a little unnerving, because you’re like, “Oh no! What if we miss a turn or something and accidentally end up on those rapids and die?” I assume I’m not the only one who had that reaction.

About half an hour into the drive, we stopped to pick up other people who were meeting us at Cascade (I think that’s where we stopped). There were three groups. One was a couple, one was a big family of several, and the other was a family of nine. While we were waiting for the family of nine to arrive, Frank and I sat on the bus and watched the people; we also fidgeted, because we couldn’t wait to get started. The big family of several was taking their sweet time getting themselves ready for the trip, but we later learned that the family of nine wasn’t there yet, so the severals knew we weren’t waiting on them. Now here’s something I hadn’t seen before: A man took off his shirt, and he wasn’t remotely Marky-Mark-like, so I mostly just put on my “ew” face and tried not to watch, but it was hard not to watch, because I was so fascinated by his behavior. The man took off his shirt, lathered himself up in sunscreen (sooooo much sunscreen), and then put his shirt back on. I don’t understand this, because where I come from, you put the sunscreen anywhere that isn’t covered by your clothes. I was still scratching my head and trying to figure that one out when he took off his shirt again. Rinse repeat. Lathered up all over again. Put his shirt back on. Rinse repeat. I don’t know if he was trying to turn his 15spf lotion into 45 or what, but that man applied sunscreen no fewer than three times to the same areas (which would be clothed). Finally, I said, “How much of that is he going to put on?” to no one in particular. The other couple still on the bus agreed that my question was valid, and one of the guides acknowledged the over-lathering. Human behavior is strange.

When the family of nine finally arrived, we got going. We were able to see parts of the river we would be rafting, and the guides kept us entertained with their corny joke-cracking. This is also when I learned that there were children on the bus. Children. The kind that scream and fuss and make lots of noise. I was not on board with this, because what if one of the loud teenage girls ended up on our raft? Srsly. This was a worse thought than taking a wrong turn at the Class Vs.

We got to the whatever point (drop point? enter the river point? get on raft point?), and we almost got smashed into by an impatient guy and his small child in a truck — impatient guy obviously not able to see the giant bus and trailer backing across the highway into a too-small parking lot. People were all kinds of rude in the lot, too. No, the river will disappear if you get into it before I do, so I’m going to be a total jerk about sharing this public parking lot and public river! Anyway, I, being a chick and paying customer, stood idly by watching the guides and a couple of the men unload the rafts, praying that we would be on an all-adults raft. I was so pleased when Eli called the three adult couples to his raft. But Eli was wearing shorts that said “Lost,” and, not wanting to end up on an island in the south Pacific with humidity and Others and toner monsters, I worried just a little.

Finally we were in the river. As I got braver and gained more trust in my life jacket, I scooted more and more off of the cushion on the inside of the raft and onto the outside of the raft, where you are supposed to sit. By the end of the day, I was actually comfortable sitting on the edge. Go me.

The first half of the trip was mostly calm. The majority of the time, we sat there with our paddles while Eli did all the work. He would tell us when to paddle and when to stop, and other than that, we sat watching the amazing scenery as we floated by. We didn’t see any wildlife on the ground (other than chipmunks), but we did see a bald eagle. In the wild. On Independence Day. Because we’re awesome. There were two or three rapids before lunch, a couple of Class IIs and one Class III, I think. Class IIs were fun, but I was ready for more. When we got to the Class III, I squealed in delight — so. much. fun. My brain started screaming inside my head, “I WAS SO BORN TO DO THIS!” Brain was having lots of fun. Apparently, Frank’s side of the raft got nailed on that rapid, because when we got to lunch, I noticed he was drenched head-to-toe, and I was only drenched waist-to-toe.

We stopped for lunch, and they even accommodated my diet. They feed you sandwiches halfway through the trip, but for me they had a salad, because Frank had told them I needed to be GF. It was basically one of those bag salads with iceberg lettuce and cabbage bits (I’m pretty sure they gave me the whole bag, because wow, that was a lot of lettuce), but they made sure to tell me more than once that I could add turkey and veggies from the sandwich fixin’s (which I did), and they sent me three different kinds of dressing, two of which I was able to eat, and I also ate some fruit. I’m not a fan of iceberg lettuce, but I didn’t care, because it was food, and I got to eat it. Oh, here’s a cutie-head moment for you: I took my digestive enzymes along, just in case I got glutened. I didn’t think about the effect that water has on gel caps that dissolve in water, so I was like, “Hey! I’ll stick these gel caps in my pocket, since my pocket is snug, and they won’t fall out! I’m so smart!” Only I didn’t say it out loud, so Frank wasn’t able to remind me that the gel caps would be melting as soon as I got wet. So we’re standing there, waiting for lunch to be served, and Frank asked what was on my shorts. Oh, it’s just water, I thought, but when I looked down, I saw that I had a huge painting of orange and brown all over my khaki-colored shorts. I said, “Oh. Um. I put my enzymes in my pocket before we left.” Frank just started laughing at me. It looks like something rusted in my pocket.

After lunch, we got back on the river, and I couldn’t wait for the next rapids. This leg seemed a little more full of the splashies, so I was giddy. We had a few more Class IIs, a small III, and a big III. The small III was actually more fun (I think it’s called Francois), because it lasts longer and gets all up in your face. The big III was a ton of fun, too — y’all will have to see the pictures of us going over that when we get them, and you won’t believe I did that.

After the last III, it’s all calm floatiness, and the guide does all the work. Frank and I had already decided we want to move on to the bigger rapids, the ones where you have to wear a helmet. I should probably wear one of those just walking on my two feet, so I’m thinking my helmet should come with a full faceguard or something more. Either way, bring it on.

The drive back was a nailbiter, because the girl driving the bus (also the photographer) was driving crazy scary. You know, left wheels over the center lines of the two-lane highway. Other cars would zoom closely by our bus, and she would be like, “Did you see that guy?” Um, did you see you? But she was nice and took good pictures of us, so whatevs.

My birthday is coming up (it’s the 19th, don’t you forget it!), and Frank has already asked me what I want. “Take me rafting again.” “Yeah, but what about a present?” “Take me rafting. That’s my present.” He still thinks he needs to buy me something I can hold in my hands, so I’m like, “Fine. Get me a TV show on DVD. We don’t watch enough of those. And take me rafting.”

I had a video playing on my computer.

FRANK: What are you watching?
SARAHK: Oh. I’m watching a video of [wRitErsbLock]’s nephew saying his first sentence. I thought it was gonna be something cool, but it’s just “I wanna see.”
FRANK: Well, it’s his first sentence. What did you expect he would say?
SARAHK: “Well, I do declare…”
FRANK: “I do believe I am talking now. I have mastered the English language.”
SARAHK: Yeah, something cool like that.

I’m around, just busy this week with work, Buffy, Angel, and filling in on Conservative Grapevine and Right Wing News. If you’re bored, you can go read my post on RWN.

Kthxbai.

Wow, looking at our July calendar, I’m pretty sure we’ll be ragged or dead by the end of it. Frank surprised me yesterday with the news that he’s booked us a white water rafting trip (!!!) for this weekend. 1s and 2s and maybe up to some 3s. Yes, I’m a little wigged and also really excited. We’ve never done it before. I used to be dead set against the whole idea, before I hiked the Grand Canyon and decided I love the outdoors and should cowgirl up and just do it. Once we got to Idaho, I told Frank we should totally do that sometime. And now we are! Aaaah! So that’s this weekend.

Next weekend, we’re going fishing. My FIL’s favorite fishing spot is finally stocked, so we’re going up there with my in-laws. It’ll be fun. I haven’t fished since… wow, maybe since I was nineteen or twenty. Which, for those of you counting, is more than a decade ago. Surely I’ve fished since then? I can’t remember doing so.

And the last weekend in July, we’ve been invited to go hike in the Sawtooths near Stanley, a hike that sounds like we will not be in any kind of shape for, but whatevs. They can catch us on the way down. The hiking trip means that I need to buy hiking boots, because I haven’t had any since I hiked the Canyon the first time with Essay. I gave them to my mom, as I had not properly broken them in before the fourteen-mile round-trip hike (because I was really smart) and therefore never wanted to see them again. So I need to get those this week so I have time to break them in. Any recommendations as to high, low, mid boots? And how do y’all break in your boots? I’ve read a number of different ways to do it.

The other weekend this month, I turn thirty-two, so I’m sure Frank will plan something for us. He’d better! ::shakes fist::

We bought an annual national parks pass when we went to Yellowstone, so we plan to get a lot of use out of that. We’re only twelve hours from the North Rim and within even fewer hours of several more national parks, forests, etc.