Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Can you help?
The Integrated Riot Investigation Team has launched a website asking for help identifying rioters from the June Stanley Cup riot. There are about 40 pictures posted as of now...can you help identify anyone?
Monday, August 29, 2011
Getting Rid of STUFF
We have lots of stuff. Too much stuff. I've been slowly but surely working my way through our apartment...I haven't posted recently because, well, the changes are small. Little. And I haven't been able to do as many as I'd hoped what with the mysterious illness and all... but I'll be posting some updates soon...mostly because most of my projects are huge will little goals that don't look like much, but end up being massive when they're added together.
Like my current project. J is away with her grandparents for a few days and so I decided to tackle her bedroom and her closet.
That's too big.
So I split her room into four zones and tackled each one of those. Then I decided to go box by box out of the closet. It's working well enough. Although when I left this morning, it looked pretty dismal in her room. The plan for tonight is to get the recycling and garage out to their bins. And then continue sorting. Because I have two partial evenings and one morning to get it done before she gets back. Which is why I did it box by box. So that I should be able to just close the closet if I don't get it finished...I'll be posting something about that when it's done...or as close to done as it's going to get this time.
But.
Three weeks ago Alex took all the stuff we wanted to give to the thrift shot (that I'd been storing in our bedroom) to the thrift shop. OHMYGOODNESS.
I didn't get a picture of the final load, but I think there were two more boxes, one more large bag and a pile of board games.
J and I were out when Alex did this and, disappointingly, when we got home, the masses of stuff in our place didn't look any smaller...but, I was bitten by the giveaway bug and there is plenty more slated for donation or giveaway very very soon!
I linked up to I'm an Organizing Junkie's 52 Weeks of Organizing Challenge.
Like my current project. J is away with her grandparents for a few days and so I decided to tackle her bedroom and her closet.
That's too big.
So I split her room into four zones and tackled each one of those. Then I decided to go box by box out of the closet. It's working well enough. Although when I left this morning, it looked pretty dismal in her room. The plan for tonight is to get the recycling and garage out to their bins. And then continue sorting. Because I have two partial evenings and one morning to get it done before she gets back. Which is why I did it box by box. So that I should be able to just close the closet if I don't get it finished...I'll be posting something about that when it's done...or as close to done as it's going to get this time.
But.
Three weeks ago Alex took all the stuff we wanted to give to the thrift shot (that I'd been storing in our bedroom) to the thrift shop. OHMYGOODNESS.
I didn't get a picture of the final load, but I think there were two more boxes, one more large bag and a pile of board games.
J and I were out when Alex did this and, disappointingly, when we got home, the masses of stuff in our place didn't look any smaller...but, I was bitten by the giveaway bug and there is plenty more slated for donation or giveaway very very soon!
I linked up to I'm an Organizing Junkie's 52 Weeks of Organizing Challenge.
And so a year passes
This time last year we were getting ready for J to start at her new daycare.
She was excited and little and seemed so grown up at the same time.
Friday was her last day at her daycare. Now that's she is three, she gets to moved up to 3-5 daycare from toddler daycare. There will be a little more structure in her routine, a little more consistency in her day, a little more time to be independent and a lot of growing up.
She was both excited and a bit anxious about her last day at her daycare. She loves her teachers and she has a few good buddies, but none of them are moving on with her. One of her best buds is already at the new daycare and has been eagerly awaiting J's arrival. The last few weeks have been tough for J because she was the oldest and the new group of kids is so much younger (the oldest in the new group turned two in July)...we've had a bit of regression, but it's all good. She is so excited about her new daycare and hanging out with her old buddy...
We loved her toddler daycare - her teachers were amazing and she has a few good little friends. I have met with the new daycare and I feel like it's a good fit (although we'll see how it is after Labour Day) for J...
She was excited and little and seemed so grown up at the same time.
Friday was her last day at her daycare. Now that's she is three, she gets to moved up to 3-5 daycare from toddler daycare. There will be a little more structure in her routine, a little more consistency in her day, a little more time to be independent and a lot of growing up.
She was both excited and a bit anxious about her last day at her daycare. She loves her teachers and she has a few good buddies, but none of them are moving on with her. One of her best buds is already at the new daycare and has been eagerly awaiting J's arrival. The last few weeks have been tough for J because she was the oldest and the new group of kids is so much younger (the oldest in the new group turned two in July)...we've had a bit of regression, but it's all good. She is so excited about her new daycare and hanging out with her old buddy...
We loved her toddler daycare - her teachers were amazing and she has a few good little friends. I have met with the new daycare and I feel like it's a good fit (although we'll see how it is after Labour Day) for J...
The no-plan plan
So, this week there isn't really a plan for food at our house. We had a crazy birthday party weekend and then my parents left and took J with them. Which gives me a bit more flexibility than usual when it comes to food...
Monday: Dinner out
Tuesday: Something quick - probably an omelette or sandwich - because I have an appointment right after work and followed immediately by a meeting
Wednesday: Whatever is in the fridge
Thursday: Lasagne or other similar make ahead dish that travels well and feeds lots
Friday: My mom is in charge (I just delegated that now)
Saturday: Wedding-eve bbq
Sunday: Wedding dinner
Next week it's back to school week and daycare transition time...yahoo...which means meals will need to be more carefully planned and the slowcooker will most certainly be making a comeback!
For more menu ideas, visit I'm an Organizing Junkie. (Michelle, I will try the link you posted...I haven't had time yet!)
Monday: Dinner out
Tuesday: Something quick - probably an omelette or sandwich - because I have an appointment right after work and followed immediately by a meeting
Wednesday: Whatever is in the fridge
Thursday: Lasagne or other similar make ahead dish that travels well and feeds lots
Friday: My mom is in charge (I just delegated that now)
Saturday: Wedding-eve bbq
Sunday: Wedding dinner
Next week it's back to school week and daycare transition time...yahoo...which means meals will need to be more carefully planned and the slowcooker will most certainly be making a comeback!
For more menu ideas, visit I'm an Organizing Junkie. (Michelle, I will try the link you posted...I haven't had time yet!)
Friday, August 26, 2011
Remembering belatedly
Dear Facebook: And this is why I *HATE* you.
When I lived in London, my Papa Billy came to visit me and took me to meet some of his cousins - Persis, her husband George and Cousin Bob. Persis and George lived on the way from London to Heathrow and became my special British relatives. I visited them as often as I could - probably once a month - and usually spent the night with them. I was the only person who was not a member of the immediate family invited to Persis' 80th birthday. That's right. They were elderly. I often referred to them as my pretend British grandparents.
They lived in a typical British home - a duplex by our standards - with a front and back room and kitchen downstairs and three bedrooms, an airing closet and a bathroom upstairs. I was given the front bedroom when I visited alone (their daughter's bedroom growing up) or the back bedroom (their sons' bedroom) if I came with a friend.
They had a gorgeous back garden - it was a maze of paths and plants with small statues hiding among the greenery, begging to be discovered. Persis would often make me fish sticks because while I didn't eat meat (back then) I definitely ate fish and she wanted to make sure that I could have dinner with them even when she was cooking something like a joint of lamb. I loved going to their place for a day or two of relaxation when life in London became too crazy. Persis called me on the phone regularly just to talk, asking if that was "my Shannon" when I answered and always saying "See you soon, my love" when we said goodbye. Persis was a smoker, but I don't think I ever saw her actually smoke a cigarette. She walked around with a lit one between her fingers almost all day, sometimes with a good inch and a half of ash hanging off the end of the cigarette, leaving a trail of ash in her wake.
George was the quieter of the two, a very intelligent man with lots of interests and interesting things to say. We had many memorable conversations and shared many quiet afternoons just sitting in the back room or on the patio sipping tea, reading or George possibly doing a crossword puzzle, while snooker played on the tv in the background. I remember visiting them with my friend Kristine and she and George had an interesting conversation about the history of Latvia. He was thrilled to have someone to talk to about Latvia and I think Kristine was surprised and happy to meet someone who knew so much about her country.
When my parents came to see me in 2001, they stayed with Persis and George for the first few days of their trip. We used their home as a starting point for a day trip to Windsor and Eton and to do some quiet, local exploring while the jet lag wore off. We went out for dinner at one of Persis' favourite restaurants, an old manor house near their home, and our waiter was called Alan. After that, she called my dad Alan. Even in Christmas cards and letters.
That year, I spent my birthday at their house. They gave me some lovely gifts, some chocolate and even a special, tiny birthday cake.
Whenever I went away, I made sure to send them a postcard - Persis had a wall dedicated to postcards. She also had a gallery of family photos in her front room - last time we were in England, she proudly showed us our wedding picture and some baby pictures of J that she had added to the gallery.
After I left London and came home, I wrote to Persis and George at least once every couple of months. We often received phone calls from her at Easter and at Christmas. I often talk about how wonderful and large my family is and how no one really concerns themselves with whether or not we're first cousins or second cousins three times removed or whatever, we're all just cousins and therefore, we're all just family. It shouldn't really surprise me, but it still does, that Persis and George took that same approach to family. By the time I visited them for a second time, I felt like I belonged. I met their children and grandchildren. I visited (and stayed with) their two grandsons and their daughter-in-law over Easter when I was in Australia. Their son, who was the head of Capel Manor College, invited me to attend the Chelsea Flower Show with a friend and gave us a guided tour. They were all so lovely to me.
Every time I went back to London, I made sure to stop in and visit. On our last visit in 2009, they got to meet J. They were certainly getting older - George had had a stroke some years before and Persis was his caregiver. He was frustrated. His stroke seems to have left him with a perfectly functioning brain, but very little in the way of communication abilities - he had much difficulty with his speech and he couldn't write, but he still read and watched the news and sports. My mom sent them a subscription to Beautiful British Columbia every year for Christmas and he got excited every time one arrived in the mail.
On January 4, 2011, George took his last breaths. Persis followed him on March 30. I don't know more than that today, but I'm sure that Persis died of a broken heart.
I've spent the morning staring out my window, tears running down my face and not really getting anything done...George was 94 and Persis was 89. It is going to be terribly strange not to get off the underground at Hatton Cross and pop in for a cup of tea the next time I go to London. I'm so thankful that my Papa Billy introduced me to Persis and George. I'm so thankful that they had the chance to meet my husband and baby girl.
Persis and George, I'm going to miss you.
Pictures to come when I get home later today.
[And as for why I hate Facebook - that's how I found out...and then I Googled it. And Facebook is not a good way to find out that someone you care for has died.]
When I lived in London, my Papa Billy came to visit me and took me to meet some of his cousins - Persis, her husband George and Cousin Bob. Persis and George lived on the way from London to Heathrow and became my special British relatives. I visited them as often as I could - probably once a month - and usually spent the night with them. I was the only person who was not a member of the immediate family invited to Persis' 80th birthday. That's right. They were elderly. I often referred to them as my pretend British grandparents.
They lived in a typical British home - a duplex by our standards - with a front and back room and kitchen downstairs and three bedrooms, an airing closet and a bathroom upstairs. I was given the front bedroom when I visited alone (their daughter's bedroom growing up) or the back bedroom (their sons' bedroom) if I came with a friend.
They had a gorgeous back garden - it was a maze of paths and plants with small statues hiding among the greenery, begging to be discovered. Persis would often make me fish sticks because while I didn't eat meat (back then) I definitely ate fish and she wanted to make sure that I could have dinner with them even when she was cooking something like a joint of lamb. I loved going to their place for a day or two of relaxation when life in London became too crazy. Persis called me on the phone regularly just to talk, asking if that was "my Shannon" when I answered and always saying "See you soon, my love" when we said goodbye. Persis was a smoker, but I don't think I ever saw her actually smoke a cigarette. She walked around with a lit one between her fingers almost all day, sometimes with a good inch and a half of ash hanging off the end of the cigarette, leaving a trail of ash in her wake.
George was the quieter of the two, a very intelligent man with lots of interests and interesting things to say. We had many memorable conversations and shared many quiet afternoons just sitting in the back room or on the patio sipping tea, reading or George possibly doing a crossword puzzle, while snooker played on the tv in the background. I remember visiting them with my friend Kristine and she and George had an interesting conversation about the history of Latvia. He was thrilled to have someone to talk to about Latvia and I think Kristine was surprised and happy to meet someone who knew so much about her country.
When my parents came to see me in 2001, they stayed with Persis and George for the first few days of their trip. We used their home as a starting point for a day trip to Windsor and Eton and to do some quiet, local exploring while the jet lag wore off. We went out for dinner at one of Persis' favourite restaurants, an old manor house near their home, and our waiter was called Alan. After that, she called my dad Alan. Even in Christmas cards and letters.
That year, I spent my birthday at their house. They gave me some lovely gifts, some chocolate and even a special, tiny birthday cake.
Whenever I went away, I made sure to send them a postcard - Persis had a wall dedicated to postcards. She also had a gallery of family photos in her front room - last time we were in England, she proudly showed us our wedding picture and some baby pictures of J that she had added to the gallery.
After I left London and came home, I wrote to Persis and George at least once every couple of months. We often received phone calls from her at Easter and at Christmas. I often talk about how wonderful and large my family is and how no one really concerns themselves with whether or not we're first cousins or second cousins three times removed or whatever, we're all just cousins and therefore, we're all just family. It shouldn't really surprise me, but it still does, that Persis and George took that same approach to family. By the time I visited them for a second time, I felt like I belonged. I met their children and grandchildren. I visited (and stayed with) their two grandsons and their daughter-in-law over Easter when I was in Australia. Their son, who was the head of Capel Manor College, invited me to attend the Chelsea Flower Show with a friend and gave us a guided tour. They were all so lovely to me.
Every time I went back to London, I made sure to stop in and visit. On our last visit in 2009, they got to meet J. They were certainly getting older - George had had a stroke some years before and Persis was his caregiver. He was frustrated. His stroke seems to have left him with a perfectly functioning brain, but very little in the way of communication abilities - he had much difficulty with his speech and he couldn't write, but he still read and watched the news and sports. My mom sent them a subscription to Beautiful British Columbia every year for Christmas and he got excited every time one arrived in the mail.
On January 4, 2011, George took his last breaths. Persis followed him on March 30. I don't know more than that today, but I'm sure that Persis died of a broken heart.
I've spent the morning staring out my window, tears running down my face and not really getting anything done...George was 94 and Persis was 89. It is going to be terribly strange not to get off the underground at Hatton Cross and pop in for a cup of tea the next time I go to London. I'm so thankful that my Papa Billy introduced me to Persis and George. I'm so thankful that they had the chance to meet my husband and baby girl.
Persis and George, I'm going to miss you.
Pictures to come when I get home later today.
[And as for why I hate Facebook - that's how I found out...and then I Googled it. And Facebook is not a good way to find out that someone you care for has died.]
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
I need routine...
Specifically, I need to sit down on the weekend and plan our meals for the week (there are other parts to my routine, they're just not bugging me...this week). Because if I don't, Wednesday rolls around and I have no idea what we're going to eat this week. And then we eat boring food. Plus there's a party for a three year old on Saturday and I have no idea what I'm going to serve. Plus I have the dreaded MRI on Saturday, bright and early, and I'm kind of panicking. And I shouldn't be. Because I have three evenings and most of Saturday morning and my parents are coming and it will be fine.
Monday: Quesadillas
Tuesday: Chicken with corn on the cob, dilled potatoes and other vegetables
Wednesday: Quesadillas (yes, again. They are the perfect food for nights when I go out with my trainer...if you have suggestions for some other quick, but relatively healthy dinner I can make for J and then for myself a few hours later, I'd love to hear them...we also do peanut butter and jam a lot on nights like this)
Thursday: Salmon or out
Friday: Pasta
Saturday: Party day...something easy...maybe more pasta? Or maybe out with my parents? Or maybe who knows...
Sunday: Small child is with her grandparents so Alex and I are having date night
Blah...what a boring, repetitive and uninspired week. These are the weeks when I convince myself that I don't actually like to cook. For more variety, head over to I'm an Organizing Junkie.
Monday: Quesadillas
Tuesday: Chicken with corn on the cob, dilled potatoes and other vegetables
Wednesday: Quesadillas (yes, again. They are the perfect food for nights when I go out with my trainer...if you have suggestions for some other quick, but relatively healthy dinner I can make for J and then for myself a few hours later, I'd love to hear them...we also do peanut butter and jam a lot on nights like this)
Thursday: Salmon or out
Friday: Pasta
Saturday: Party day...something easy...maybe more pasta? Or maybe out with my parents? Or maybe who knows...
Sunday: Small child is with her grandparents so Alex and I are having date night
Blah...what a boring, repetitive and uninspired week. These are the weeks when I convince myself that I don't actually like to cook. For more variety, head over to I'm an Organizing Junkie.
My love-hate relationship with the book of face
Dear Facebook,
I know I curse you almost daily and I wonder why you change as often as you do, but I should probably take a moment or ten to thank you periodically.
Without you, I wouldn't know who just checked in at the grocery store. Maybe one day I'll work up the nerve to ask that person to bring me a loaf of bread.
Without you, I wouldn't know who just got dumped by whom before the dumpee finds out. Wait, do I really want to know that?
Without you, I wouldn't have the opportunity to see seventy-four almost identical shots of a friend of mine and a friend of theirs, posing in front of something.
Without you, I might forget my sisters' birthdays, my wedding anniversary and my name. If I used my real name.
Without you, the hits on my blog would be slightly higher and my real mail box would be happier more days of the year.
Without you, I would have more hours in my week because that two second log on to see if something was happening that turns into two hours of mindless clicking? Yeah, that wouldn't happen.
But in all fairness, I do have some things to sincerely thank you for.
Without you, I wouldn't have a clue how to track down a few very important people in my life who regularly move and never let their friends or family know (before Facebook, I think they thought we could find them telepathically?)
Without you, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to reconnect with a few very good friends from long ago who I had lost touch with somewhere along the way. It's so good to have them back in my life and even though most of them are far away, it's nice to know they're there...
Without you, I would have gone crazy in my first 18 months as a mommy. But when things went sideways, I could post it on Facebook (and annoy the crap out of half of my friends...sorry) and I'd have eighteen suggestions, reassurances or answers in about six minutes.
Without you, our family reunion would have been over in 24 hours. But it started two months ago and it's still going.
Without you, I'd never hear from some very important people in my life who apparently never learned to dial long distance or to use the post office. I'm okay with that. Because they're awesome at Facebooking.
Without you, I'd have a hard time keeping up with my friends from my days living in other countries. I wrote lots of letters when I lived in the village in the Alps. Because the village had maybe 1500 people and I only spoke English and you can't really ski in the dark. So I wrote lots of letters. But now I have things to do. Other than write letters.
Without you, I'd never get to see my cousin's pictures from the family reunion because he lives in another town or my dear friend's amazing pictures of her trip because she lives in another country or my other friend's beautiful children because they live in far away now.
So, while you annoy me and I threaten to get rid of you, regularly, I really do appreciate you.
Thank you for keeping me connected...
I know I curse you almost daily and I wonder why you change as often as you do, but I should probably take a moment or ten to thank you periodically.
Without you, I wouldn't know who just checked in at the grocery store. Maybe one day I'll work up the nerve to ask that person to bring me a loaf of bread.
Without you, I wouldn't know who just got dumped by whom before the dumpee finds out. Wait, do I really want to know that?
Without you, I wouldn't have the opportunity to see seventy-four almost identical shots of a friend of mine and a friend of theirs, posing in front of something.
Without you, I might forget my sisters' birthdays, my wedding anniversary and my name. If I used my real name.
Without you, the hits on my blog would be slightly higher and my real mail box would be happier more days of the year.
Without you, I would have more hours in my week because that two second log on to see if something was happening that turns into two hours of mindless clicking? Yeah, that wouldn't happen.
But in all fairness, I do have some things to sincerely thank you for.
Without you, I wouldn't have a clue how to track down a few very important people in my life who regularly move and never let their friends or family know (before Facebook, I think they thought we could find them telepathically?)
Without you, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to reconnect with a few very good friends from long ago who I had lost touch with somewhere along the way. It's so good to have them back in my life and even though most of them are far away, it's nice to know they're there...
Without you, I would have gone crazy in my first 18 months as a mommy. But when things went sideways, I could post it on Facebook (and annoy the crap out of half of my friends...sorry) and I'd have eighteen suggestions, reassurances or answers in about six minutes.
Without you, our family reunion would have been over in 24 hours. But it started two months ago and it's still going.
Without you, I'd never hear from some very important people in my life who apparently never learned to dial long distance or to use the post office. I'm okay with that. Because they're awesome at Facebooking.
Without you, I'd have a hard time keeping up with my friends from my days living in other countries. I wrote lots of letters when I lived in the village in the Alps. Because the village had maybe 1500 people and I only spoke English and you can't really ski in the dark. So I wrote lots of letters. But now I have things to do. Other than write letters.
Without you, I'd never get to see my cousin's pictures from the family reunion because he lives in another town or my dear friend's amazing pictures of her trip because she lives in another country or my other friend's beautiful children because they live in far away now.
So, while you annoy me and I threaten to get rid of you, regularly, I really do appreciate you.
Thank you for keeping me connected...
Saturday, August 20, 2011
A bike with no pedals?
J is one happy girl - she got the bike with no pedals she's been requesting for months from Lallie and Bop (her grandparents) last night for her birthday! She's a safety conscious three year old - the second question out of her mouth (after "Can *I* ride it?") was "Where's my helmet?" [She's getting it tomorrow from her other grandparents]
More birthday goodness to come...
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Touring the family nursery
J and I have been in Kelowna for almost a week - we came up specifically for a family reunion. Our family business is 100 this year and we had a party to celebrate. My great-grandfather started the business and our family has grown from him and his brother to a five-generation super-family! My great-grandparents are the first generation. They had four kids. Their four kids gave them 20 grandchildren. Those 20 grandchildren produced 44 great-grandchildren (that's my generation) and my generation is just getting started, but there are 13 great-great-grandchildren.
So our little celebration was kind of not so little. There are lots of pictures in this post and I've broken it into two parts...
We started our day of celebration with a tour of the nursery part of the family business. It's the original part and the reason we're celebrating...
Apparently we all passed the first test - we didn't pose any biological threat to the trees so they let us in to play for a few hours.
We started our tour by this truck, loaded and ready to go. It had something like 94 trees that weighed 750lbs each.
The whole gang, ready to go...
We got to go on a little hayride around the property. This particular trailer is for the over 50 and under 5 crowd (because it has a canopy) but parents and helpers of the under five crowd were invited too. I was happy. It was hot.
Less than 15 minutes after we arrived my kid was already covered in muck. It was super dusty and I'm sure it was sticking to the sun screen. And she's almost three.
J was thrilled to have a chance to "drive" the tractor. We all know how much she loves machines!
J and P found a peach tree so my Auntie Jenny helped them pick peaches.
Very happy with the fruits of their labour...ugh...I should steer clear of puns. The peaches were so good though. We all had an impromptu snack in the middle of the tour.
This tree, creatively named the big tree, is important to the family.
It's where my great-grandfather (founder of the nursery) and my great-grandmother's ashes are scattered.
After walking through the life of a tree from seed to plug to big tree (I think this one is six years old) we got to see the tree spade at work.
There is a spectacular view from the nursery, although I miss the old bridge...
My dad, my mom, Kelsey, me (no Rebecca...boo. Alex and J were off somewhere doing something...eating peaches maybe?)
J loved this truck and wanted to be with the trees lots. Behind her you can see the super powerful sprinkler. It pumps water at some huge per second rate...not a sprinkler you'd probably want to play in!
The next generation - my mom and her four sister who are the current owner/operators of the business.
After the tour, everyone went home to wash the dust off before a super fun evening. But that's for another post!
So our little celebration was kind of not so little. There are lots of pictures in this post and I've broken it into two parts...
We started our day of celebration with a tour of the nursery part of the family business. It's the original part and the reason we're celebrating...
After the tour, everyone went home to wash the dust off before a super fun evening. But that's for another post!
What the doctor said...
I know I said I'd post this yesterday. I planned to do it when I got home last night after a visit with a friend, but I came home to find a toddler who had a cough and wasn't sleeping...
Last Friday morning after I dropped J at daycare, I turned the car around and headed practically home (we live only a few blocks from the hospital) for my scariest appointment yet...the one with the neurologist at the stroke prevention clinic.
Results from that appointment? More of the same...your tests are normal, we're not sure what's going on, let's do more tests. The neurologist was a bit concerned that my blood pressure was up, but let's be realistic here, the nurse took my blood pressure moments after I was given a brochure about TIAs because most likely that's what I had (um, to clarify, not likely). That freaked me out. A lot. I was at the appointment alone because I wasn't too concerned about it...but at that moment I could feel my blood pressure climbing and the tears building and I wished I had someone, anyone, in the room with me. The nurse asked if I was feeling anxious and told me not to worry about my blood pressure because it was probably high because of the anxiety, but the doctor, he was a little concerned. So along with the tests, I will be visiting my family doctor for weekly blood pressure monitoring sessions.
What's next? Well, an early morning MRI which will determine pretty much all the next steps and a visit with a dietitian. For now I just need to keep going with life...and avoid grapefruit.
I think I can handle that!
Last Friday morning after I dropped J at daycare, I turned the car around and headed practically home (we live only a few blocks from the hospital) for my scariest appointment yet...the one with the neurologist at the stroke prevention clinic.
Results from that appointment? More of the same...your tests are normal, we're not sure what's going on, let's do more tests. The neurologist was a bit concerned that my blood pressure was up, but let's be realistic here, the nurse took my blood pressure moments after I was given a brochure about TIAs because most likely that's what I had (um, to clarify, not likely). That freaked me out. A lot. I was at the appointment alone because I wasn't too concerned about it...but at that moment I could feel my blood pressure climbing and the tears building and I wished I had someone, anyone, in the room with me. The nurse asked if I was feeling anxious and told me not to worry about my blood pressure because it was probably high because of the anxiety, but the doctor, he was a little concerned. So along with the tests, I will be visiting my family doctor for weekly blood pressure monitoring sessions.
What's next? Well, an early morning MRI which will determine pretty much all the next steps and a visit with a dietitian. For now I just need to keep going with life...and avoid grapefruit.
I think I can handle that!
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