Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto

You know the times when your child approaches you ever so cautiously immediately upon your return from work twiddling their thumbs, making just enough eye contact to give you the kind of look you only see on World Vision commercials, with a little sway action in their hip region and with the sweetest of voices, the kind you rarely hear and you know has been rehearsed and they say "Mom, do you think you might want to play with me?"  

Why is it that intuitively they somehow know that right now, at this very moment you are at any second liable to become comatose from the sheer exhaustion of life?  I believe my child has some sort of sixth sense (or somehow picked up spidey senses from all those Spiderman cartoons I kept him occupied with so I could nap on the couch I watched with him) that accurately gauges how tired I will be when I arrive. He deliberately homes in on it especially on days where I have gotten amounts of sleep that are dangerously low, and the computer breaks down at work, and I've only had 2 cups of coffee, and I had to make 2 stops on the way home, and, and, and......"Of course bud, just let me finish wolfing down my already cold dinner that I've barely chewed because my stomach is eating itself after only having time for half a cup of cold oatmeal for breakfast, and some luke-warm microwaved left overs from 3 nights ago....I'd LOVE to."

So, we made a tin can robot.  Well, I did.  Aidan helped by singing Christmas Carols in all sorts of tear your hair out annoying amusing voices and dropping all the miniature screws all over the floor.  At one point (I must've blacked out from rage) I was apparently cursing enough for Aidan to announce that he was going to his room until I could "control" my swearing.  After an hour of hard labor , my our masterpiece was complete (cue evil laughter here).  All I had to do now was rip open all the electronic items in the house in search of 1 AA battery (NEVER included)....we no longer can use the TV remote in the house but, the robot was A-LIVE (and again, evil laughter).  It turned out pretty cool, Aidan ripped it's eye off within a matter of milliseconds and we all (dog included) ran around the house chasing the robot laughing and having that silly kind of fun that makes it all worth it....every fucking blissful minute!

Note to self:  Start a swear jar and then use the money to buy myself new shoes.

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka Mad Scientist)

Whaz That?

Eyeball assault = Result of playing with 8 year old

"Look Ma, a robot"

We're All Mad Here, You'll Fit Right In

A classic quote from Alice  in Wonderland that completely encompasses my daily life.  If you can remember about 2 years ago my rantings about this so called "blanket" diagnosis I received called Fibromyalgia  read it here, well apparently the Dr's (who I have reason to believe receive their credentials from Cracker Jack boxes) have gone back to the drawing board and have come up with an actual diagnosis, a real disease I tells ya!

So the new verdict is Graves' Disease, it is not as "grave" as it sounds though.  Let me tell you a little about it...

DUDE, Where's my Thyroid?

Firstly, I am not crazy, I have Graves' Disease, no really not crazy!  Yep, all those times when I got hulk psycho on some of you, finished your sentences because you just weren't talking fast enough for my hyper-driven Graves' mind, ran around like a chicken with it's head cut off stressing about minute details that you all knew really didn't matter it was ALL the Graves' and not really me, or that's my story now anyway.

The diagnosis came about when I stopped sleeping...literally.  I was getting on average 2 hours of broken sleep, waking up with what felt like my heart trying to claw it's way out of my chest and surprisingly was able to still function, I was super human, finally there were enough hours in the day because I no longer needed sleep!  It was a little concerning and a lot annoying but, I figured it was stress, or Fibromyalgia, or just a some kind of cycle that mimicked one of those spinning carnival rides, the one's that you throw up a little in your mouth while standing in line for.  Whatever, I was bound and determined not to let it get me down, not to let it interfere and to keep on truckin' no matter the cause.  Then came the Goiter.

Hmmmm, can't swallow solid food without this gnawing feeling of it hitting a lump in my throat and then a feeling of food being stuck there, this may be a problem I thought to myself.  Then my boss blew it out of the water...."Umm Sarah, why is your neck swollen?"  With a quick feel, she told me that was my thyroid and I should probably seek medical advice in the speediest of fashions.  Speediest of fashions meant 2 days later because I refused to miss work to see those weirdo's with the white lab coats who like to ask silly questions, tell me it's all in my head and give me that "you're a crazy person", "whens my coffee break" glazed eyed look.

Lucky for me, the Dr. at the St.James Clinic didn't think I was weird at all.  In fact it was quite the opposite...he wondered why I hadn't come in sooner.  That's a joke all in itself but, I became a little concerned at that point.  What? You are not going to just tell me it's a virus, or stress and send me on my merry way?  WHAT?  He immediately left to get an Endocrinologist on the phone, to no avail (and he was seemingly flustered at this point) he advised me that I was to start taking Beta Blockers immediately as my pulse and blood pressure were abnormally high.  Personally, I thought being able to feel my heart beating all the time was perfectly normal, apparently I was incorrect in this assumption.  He muttered words like Hyperthyroidism, Thyroid Storm, Graves' Disease and that God forsaken "C" word but, would send me to that place where they harvest human blood for the vampire outbreak that's sure to come (otherwise known as the "lab") so he could gather more pertinent information. 

I have to admit, I was a little shell shocked, so I left and took my prescription to the conveniently located pharmaceutical drug dealer in the same building and got me some Beta Blockers....whatever those were.  I later found out they were to steady my heart so that it beat more efficiently.  I was told to go straight to the hospital without passing GO if my symptoms were to worsen, or I felt chest pain.  I know your thinking I slept happily ever after from this point forward....not quite.  Up all night, worried because I could not feel my heart beating and had a strange heaviness in my chest.  Boss orders me to go to the hospital, this is not normal, and she didn't seem to be buying my rationalization that they were side effects that I just "had to get used to". 

St.Boniface ER was an adventure in of itself but, there I was told to lower my dose of Beta Blockers, and also had results back from blood work that it was indeed Hyperthyroidism....sent on my merry way once more.  The meds were doing their job quite well now and I started to get some better rest...super!  Early in the week I received a call from the walk-in Dr, asking me to come in because his blood tests show antibodies which indicated Graves' Disease.  Long story, even longer he has now started me on anti-thyroid medications as I have Thyrotoxicosis and cannot wait for a specialist to start treatment.

Now the waiting begins, for an ultrasound on the goiter to see if I need to have it removed and also to see an Endocrinologist to discuss further courses of treatment.  I am not holding my breath, taking it one self loathing day at a time, determined to deal with it as best I can and only cry about it curled up in the shower fully clothed (for dramatic effect).



- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka Thyroid Storm, your new favorite super hero)

This is Becoming a Food Blog

AJ has added Beef Bourguignon to his repertoire of cooking! I am determined to make this kid into a good cook, even if it takes me 2 days to make 1 meal. This weekend we made this uberly delicious melt in your mouth peasant dish and I have to say it will be on the menu again, one day, when I have limitless amounts of time to make it.

Some people just told me to make a simpler, less involved version but, Aidan and I braved the classic version, and we are darn proud! Aside from him acting like he was inebriated every time he smelled it, even after explaining to him numerous times that alcohol cooks off and cannot make you drunk, it was much fun. Plus, I just pretended that he was intoxicated off the delectable aromas of the dish and drank some more wine myself! So, in closing my kid knows how to make a bouquet garni, does yours?

Happy weekending!


- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka world class mom-cook)