I've only lost money on a return a couple of times. Last summer I bought a life jacket for our dog off Amazon. When it arrived it was slightly too small for her and I had to pay the cost of return shipping. I understood why since it was my fault-I had debated between the two sizes since her measurements were right on the border and went with the smaller size. The smaller size was a couple bucks cheaper and I was trying to save some money, but because I was being cheap I ended up losing money.
The same things applies to dog training (or really any other service)-when you cheap out you get what you pay for. Shortly after we got our dog we decided we should take her to obedience classes. We were really struggling with her anxiety and thought some obedience might help. A guy in town was advertising on the billboard of the gas station and he had great prices. He advertised that he had 25 years of experience and that he had trained police dog and other working canines.
We got in touch and made arrangements to take his Saturday class-which was held half an hour from our home in the grass lot of an abandoned school. It wasn't exactly the nicest area of town and we felt slightly out of place among the other people in the class (who were a bit on the rough side).
The classes themselves were a mess. They weren't conducted professionally and I felt the trainer gave bad advice sometimes. I have experience training animals so I do know something about the subject and a lot of his information was outdated. He had advertised as being a positive reinforcement trainer yet he regularly used prong collars and choke collars. He didn't seem to understand that we really didn't care what our dog learned at that point-we just wanted to get her around people and other dogs without having a panic attack.
We stuck it out even though we felt uneasy. Then the trainers father died and classes were cancelled for several weeks. It was a blessing for us and we realized that this wasn't working. After several weeks I called to request a refund-his phone was shut off and his Facebook page deactivated. I tried to find him, but I gave up rather quickly. He was toxic to the health and safety of my dog.
The next two trainers we had were wonderful! Here are my tips for picking a great one:
1. Do your homework: Don't sign up for the first class you see or the cheapest option. Check around and talk to other people. Ask for references from former clients and ask other pet parents if they've heard of the trainer. If nobody's heard of the person it's probably a poor choice.
2. Get recommendations: Ask your vet, the local shelter, your breeder, pet store employees and random people at the dog park. Our local shelter actually provides basic obedience and it's really cheap! The trainer there was wonderful and really worked with us! Plus we saved money and the money we did pay went back to the shelter to save another dog :) When we were done with basic obedience she was able to refer us to another trainer to do our higher level training.
3. Get multiple recommendations: When we went to the shelter for basic obedience I already knew the trainer there from other community events so I knew she was good. However, when we went to our current trainer I got recommendations from every body I could think of. Her name kept coming up over and over again-plus she worked at the kennel where we boarded our dog already. We knew if our kennel employed her she must be good. Talk to lots of people-usually one name will come up many times-that's the one to research more!
4. Go watch a class: My trainer actually invited me to do this before we started CGC. She wanted to make sure we understood what we were getting into and see her personality. You have to make sure that their philosophy matches yours.
5. Check out their credentials: Check what experience they have, what organizations they are accredited by. A simple Google search for "dog training organizations" brings up a huge list-most of them have databases where you can search for trainers.
6. Pick a trainer in your specialty: Our first trainer focused more on police dogs and bite work rather than obedience and therapy dogs. Because of this his style was a little more rough and tumble than what our dog could handle. Dog trainers that focused on what we actually needed her to do were a much better choice.
7. Do a dry run: Make sure that you take your dog to where ever class will be before class starts. Our trainer at the shelter had our first class at the shelter-it sent our dog into a tailspin of anxiety. This was the shelter she had been adopted from and she was terrified at being back there. We moved other classes to a local park and they went swimmingly.
I'm glad that we had our experience with our first trainer as it made me learn a lot about how to choose a professional (I definitely didn't put that into practice when we bought our couch-see my previous post). I also learned to stand up for my dog and do what's right for her-even if we had to lose some money and make some people angry. However, I wish we had done it right in the first place so we didn't waste several months of time with her.
Sunday, January 25, 2015
Friday, January 23, 2015
The Great Couch Debacle
Recently DH and I decided to bite the bullet and buy a new couch-our first purchase of furniture EVER! A bit of backstory: DH graduated from college a year before me and set off to his first grown up job while I stayed in school. It was a week before his job was to start and he had made no progress on actually finding a house to live in or furnishings to put in it (DH is brilliant but he tends to procrastinate about domestic chores-and he's ridiculously forgetful so he tends to forget important things). At this point his mom took over; she picked out a townhouse and headed to the furniture store to fill it. DH never actually saw the apartment before he signed the lease.
His mom did an awesome job! We loved our townhouse (until the lady who taught piano moved in next door-but that was 2 years later) and we loved most of the furniture she had picked out. The whole house matched and was tastefully decorated in a beautiful western theme. 6 months later I moved in and the nicely decorated house began to take on more and more of my decorating style. I'm not sure you can actually call it a style though, if you were going to it would be a cross between a 12 year old girl and a hobo who lives in a box. I buy what I like and don't worry if it actually matches anything else I own. I'm messy and cluttered, but I have early stage hoarding disease so our small town house was suddenly decorated with Snoopy stuffed animals, hot pink throw pillows and piles of dirty clothes and books I had yet to read.
DH tolerated me ruining his artfully decorated home with surprisingly good grace for someone as OCD as he is (that's when I knew it was true love). The one thing we both agreed on was that we HATED the couch his mom had picked out. It was a very expensive couch, it matched the theme of the house perfectly and it looked very nice. However, sitting on it was less comfortable than sitting on a bed of nails. It had wooden arms, a wooden back, super hard cushions and it wasn't wide enough for us to cuddle on. You couldn't lean on the arms (even with a throw pillow behind your back) without them stabbing you. However, it was brand new and it looked great so we kept tolerating it as we waited for it to wear out.
This year I realized we were going to wait forever-this was a solidly constructed couch and it was never going to wear out. Our new house has a massive living room and our tiny couch looked a tad bit ridiculous in such a big space. Plus, on the rare occasions we had guests everyone ended up sitting on the floor since we didn't have any seating. We came up with a plan to move the torture couch to one side of the room and buy a nice comfy couch for us to actually sit on. We would double our seating area, not cause offense by getting rid of the evil couch and make our living room look less ridiculous.
Over Christmas my parents decided they were going to buy new furniture as their couch was worn out and sagging at one end-I decided that we should take their old couch. We agreed to come back another time with a trailer and pick it up-it didn't look too great but it was comfortable! Once we were back home we headed to town to run errands and we happened to drive by an Ashley Furniture that was having a grand opening sale. We stopped in to take a quick peek and we were pretty disappointed by the offerings. However, we did find the most awesome and comfortable couch in the world. It looked amazing, it matched our house, it was big enough for DH and the dog and myself to sit on it all at once and it had recliners. It was on a super great sale that day so we jumped on it and purchased it (paying in full and in cash).
One thing you must know about DH and I is that we are not impulsive people. We are of the generation raised to read reviews and carefully consider each purchase, I'm ridiculously high strung and we both tend to end up with paralysis by analysis. It took us almost 2 years (and the viewing of hundreds of houses) to pick the house we wanted, and the only reason we bought it was because my mom talked us into it. By nature (and as a product of the teachings of our parents) we are careful with our money and one of the ways we live such a comfortable life is to be very careful.with how we spend our money. The $600 dollars we were spending on the couch (and the extended five year warranty) wasn't a ton of money, but it was a decent chunk of change.
I don't know what came over us that day, but we jumped right into the couch purchase. We didn't read any reviews or have one of our marathon debates over the pros and cons. Within 20 minutes of entering the store we were $600 poorer and I was starting to question if we had made the right decision. We were told that we could take the couch home that day-after we paid (and they spent 10 minutes trying to talk us into a ridiculous financing deal) we were told that they would have to order the couch and it wouldn't be in for 2 weeks. That was annoying and frustrating but we could live with it. In fact, it worked better for us since we wanted to clean the carpets and reorganize the living room before setting up the couch.
My mom was really surprised when I sent her a picture of the couch and shocked that we were making such a quick decision. We waited and waited and finally right as the two weeks were up the couch arrived! I happened to be away visiting my parents for the weekend so it fell to DH to go pick it up (they wanted $180.00 to deliver it!). He drove down to get it and spent almost 30 minutes in line at the distribution warehouse waiting. He was already pissed off because we had been told we would be able to pick it up at the store-that wasn't the case and he had to drive an extra 20 miles to the downtown warehouse (when you live in the country picking up something on the other side of a major city is a HUGE undertaking and adds a lot to the 30 mile drive you've already made).
He finally got the couch home and went to take the back off so it would fit in the door-we were told the back just lifted off when we purchased the couch. He spent almost 2 hours (and several Google searches) trying to figure out how to get the stupid back off the couch. It's at this point I must point out that DH is an engineer-he regularly takes apart very expensive machines and puts them back together-he's very good at his job but he was no match for this couch.
He finally gave up and decided to wait until the next day when his friend was coming over so he would have some help. At this point Ashley had told us several lies and we were thinking some pretty nasty thoughts about them as a company. The next day DH got the couch all set up and made a very interesting discovery-one of the bars under the reclining portion of the couch was mangled and therefore it wouldn't work. Essentially we paid for a whole functioning couch and received half a couch. DH was too pissed off to call so we waited a couple of days before calling them.
DH is NOT nice to customer service people if he feels they aren't doing their job correctly so I was the one who ended up having to call. I'm usually a pretty nice person since I've worked retail and I understand how sucky it can be to get yelled at for something that isn't your fault. I called and the first gentleman was very rude-he kept insisting that we had somehow broken it while we were bringing it inside the house. I kept explaining that the non-broken side had wood screwed underneath it to protect it during shipping while the broken side did not. I also kept explaining that we had purchased the extended warranty so that should be covered even if we had broken it. He finally ended up saying to me "It's your fault for buying the couch" and hung up on me.
I called back and got another rep who was much nicer. I felt bad for him since I was still smarting from my run in with the other rep and he got an earful (I can be quite angry when I need to be). He agreed that they would order the part and send someone out to fix it. I was happy until I discovered that it was going to be two weeks for the part to arrive and another two weeks before a repair team could be dispatched to our rural town. By that time I will have spent 6 weeks of my life waiting on this couch! I asked if we could be given our money back and return the couch-I liked the couch but I was done with the frustration. I was told that they didn't allow returns, but that I would be given store credit minus a restocking fee. The refund wouldn't be enough to buy a comparable couch (since we had bought it so heavily discounted) or even a comparable chair. Plus, I wasn't about to lose 20% of my money for them to restock a broken couch.
I finally agreed to the repair but explained that I would need a Saturday repair time. I was told "Saturdays are really busy and you're so far away so you can't have that". I explained that I couldn't take time off work to deal with this and I was told I could just sneak out. I'm sure that my 8th graders won't notice that I'm missing right? I was about to go all Incredible Hulk again so I asked them to call me when they were ready to set up a repair time and we would deal with it then.
So far I'm not too happy about the way we've been treated and I'm regretting jumping in so quickly. After the fact I checked the reviews for Ashley Furniture and they were overwhelmingly negative-lots of people seem to be experiencing the same things we are. I should have listened to my gut and been my usual cautious self-if I had we wouldn't be experiencing all the aggravation and lost time. I will say that I love the half of my couch that isn't broken and I'm pleased with my purchase. I just wish I had given another company my hard earned money-like our local furniture store. I probably would have paid another few hundred dollars but I wouldn't spend a month sitting on a broken couch or have to take a day off work to wait for them to repair it.
Even though people may make fun of DH and I for being cautious we usually don't have to deal with a lot of frustration. We take our time and make sure we like what we're purchasing so we don't lose time and money to the returns process. I regret not doing that in this case. My overall conclusion is that you should always listen to your gut-even if people laugh at you for doing so. I can safely say that when it comes time for DH and I to upgrade the rest of our furniture we won't be spending our money at Ashley that's for sure!
His mom did an awesome job! We loved our townhouse (until the lady who taught piano moved in next door-but that was 2 years later) and we loved most of the furniture she had picked out. The whole house matched and was tastefully decorated in a beautiful western theme. 6 months later I moved in and the nicely decorated house began to take on more and more of my decorating style. I'm not sure you can actually call it a style though, if you were going to it would be a cross between a 12 year old girl and a hobo who lives in a box. I buy what I like and don't worry if it actually matches anything else I own. I'm messy and cluttered, but I have early stage hoarding disease so our small town house was suddenly decorated with Snoopy stuffed animals, hot pink throw pillows and piles of dirty clothes and books I had yet to read.
DH tolerated me ruining his artfully decorated home with surprisingly good grace for someone as OCD as he is (that's when I knew it was true love). The one thing we both agreed on was that we HATED the couch his mom had picked out. It was a very expensive couch, it matched the theme of the house perfectly and it looked very nice. However, sitting on it was less comfortable than sitting on a bed of nails. It had wooden arms, a wooden back, super hard cushions and it wasn't wide enough for us to cuddle on. You couldn't lean on the arms (even with a throw pillow behind your back) without them stabbing you. However, it was brand new and it looked great so we kept tolerating it as we waited for it to wear out.
This year I realized we were going to wait forever-this was a solidly constructed couch and it was never going to wear out. Our new house has a massive living room and our tiny couch looked a tad bit ridiculous in such a big space. Plus, on the rare occasions we had guests everyone ended up sitting on the floor since we didn't have any seating. We came up with a plan to move the torture couch to one side of the room and buy a nice comfy couch for us to actually sit on. We would double our seating area, not cause offense by getting rid of the evil couch and make our living room look less ridiculous.
Over Christmas my parents decided they were going to buy new furniture as their couch was worn out and sagging at one end-I decided that we should take their old couch. We agreed to come back another time with a trailer and pick it up-it didn't look too great but it was comfortable! Once we were back home we headed to town to run errands and we happened to drive by an Ashley Furniture that was having a grand opening sale. We stopped in to take a quick peek and we were pretty disappointed by the offerings. However, we did find the most awesome and comfortable couch in the world. It looked amazing, it matched our house, it was big enough for DH and the dog and myself to sit on it all at once and it had recliners. It was on a super great sale that day so we jumped on it and purchased it (paying in full and in cash).
One thing you must know about DH and I is that we are not impulsive people. We are of the generation raised to read reviews and carefully consider each purchase, I'm ridiculously high strung and we both tend to end up with paralysis by analysis. It took us almost 2 years (and the viewing of hundreds of houses) to pick the house we wanted, and the only reason we bought it was because my mom talked us into it. By nature (and as a product of the teachings of our parents) we are careful with our money and one of the ways we live such a comfortable life is to be very careful.with how we spend our money. The $600 dollars we were spending on the couch (and the extended five year warranty) wasn't a ton of money, but it was a decent chunk of change.
I don't know what came over us that day, but we jumped right into the couch purchase. We didn't read any reviews or have one of our marathon debates over the pros and cons. Within 20 minutes of entering the store we were $600 poorer and I was starting to question if we had made the right decision. We were told that we could take the couch home that day-after we paid (and they spent 10 minutes trying to talk us into a ridiculous financing deal) we were told that they would have to order the couch and it wouldn't be in for 2 weeks. That was annoying and frustrating but we could live with it. In fact, it worked better for us since we wanted to clean the carpets and reorganize the living room before setting up the couch.
My mom was really surprised when I sent her a picture of the couch and shocked that we were making such a quick decision. We waited and waited and finally right as the two weeks were up the couch arrived! I happened to be away visiting my parents for the weekend so it fell to DH to go pick it up (they wanted $180.00 to deliver it!). He drove down to get it and spent almost 30 minutes in line at the distribution warehouse waiting. He was already pissed off because we had been told we would be able to pick it up at the store-that wasn't the case and he had to drive an extra 20 miles to the downtown warehouse (when you live in the country picking up something on the other side of a major city is a HUGE undertaking and adds a lot to the 30 mile drive you've already made).
He finally got the couch home and went to take the back off so it would fit in the door-we were told the back just lifted off when we purchased the couch. He spent almost 2 hours (and several Google searches) trying to figure out how to get the stupid back off the couch. It's at this point I must point out that DH is an engineer-he regularly takes apart very expensive machines and puts them back together-he's very good at his job but he was no match for this couch.
He finally gave up and decided to wait until the next day when his friend was coming over so he would have some help. At this point Ashley had told us several lies and we were thinking some pretty nasty thoughts about them as a company. The next day DH got the couch all set up and made a very interesting discovery-one of the bars under the reclining portion of the couch was mangled and therefore it wouldn't work. Essentially we paid for a whole functioning couch and received half a couch. DH was too pissed off to call so we waited a couple of days before calling them.
DH is NOT nice to customer service people if he feels they aren't doing their job correctly so I was the one who ended up having to call. I'm usually a pretty nice person since I've worked retail and I understand how sucky it can be to get yelled at for something that isn't your fault. I called and the first gentleman was very rude-he kept insisting that we had somehow broken it while we were bringing it inside the house. I kept explaining that the non-broken side had wood screwed underneath it to protect it during shipping while the broken side did not. I also kept explaining that we had purchased the extended warranty so that should be covered even if we had broken it. He finally ended up saying to me "It's your fault for buying the couch" and hung up on me.
I called back and got another rep who was much nicer. I felt bad for him since I was still smarting from my run in with the other rep and he got an earful (I can be quite angry when I need to be). He agreed that they would order the part and send someone out to fix it. I was happy until I discovered that it was going to be two weeks for the part to arrive and another two weeks before a repair team could be dispatched to our rural town. By that time I will have spent 6 weeks of my life waiting on this couch! I asked if we could be given our money back and return the couch-I liked the couch but I was done with the frustration. I was told that they didn't allow returns, but that I would be given store credit minus a restocking fee. The refund wouldn't be enough to buy a comparable couch (since we had bought it so heavily discounted) or even a comparable chair. Plus, I wasn't about to lose 20% of my money for them to restock a broken couch.
I finally agreed to the repair but explained that I would need a Saturday repair time. I was told "Saturdays are really busy and you're so far away so you can't have that". I explained that I couldn't take time off work to deal with this and I was told I could just sneak out. I'm sure that my 8th graders won't notice that I'm missing right? I was about to go all Incredible Hulk again so I asked them to call me when they were ready to set up a repair time and we would deal with it then.
So far I'm not too happy about the way we've been treated and I'm regretting jumping in so quickly. After the fact I checked the reviews for Ashley Furniture and they were overwhelmingly negative-lots of people seem to be experiencing the same things we are. I should have listened to my gut and been my usual cautious self-if I had we wouldn't be experiencing all the aggravation and lost time. I will say that I love the half of my couch that isn't broken and I'm pleased with my purchase. I just wish I had given another company my hard earned money-like our local furniture store. I probably would have paid another few hundred dollars but I wouldn't spend a month sitting on a broken couch or have to take a day off work to wait for them to repair it.
Even though people may make fun of DH and I for being cautious we usually don't have to deal with a lot of frustration. We take our time and make sure we like what we're purchasing so we don't lose time and money to the returns process. I regret not doing that in this case. My overall conclusion is that you should always listen to your gut-even if people laugh at you for doing so. I can safely say that when it comes time for DH and I to upgrade the rest of our furniture we won't be spending our money at Ashley that's for sure!
Thursday, January 22, 2015
How To Write a Proper Amazon Review
I'll admit it, I'm an Amazon junkie! DH and I order stuff from Amazon at least twice a week if not more! We use the heck out of our Prime membership-everything from toilet paper to light bulbs arrive on our porch. I enjoy the convenience of shopping from my couch and I love not having to drive the half an hour into town.
Another handy feature of Amazon is the ability to write and read reviews. I read the reviews for pretty much every purchase I make and I've learned tons of great information from my fellow consumers. I make sure I return the favor for reviewing most of the products I buy and I get tons of helpful votes! Sometimes the reviews have convinced me to buy the product and sometimes they make me steer clear. However, some of the reviews on Amazon are so laughably bad that they irritate me to no end-especially when they are one of the few review for a product. In the interest of my own sanity I've made a list of lessons that some reviewers need to learn.
Here are my guidelines for a great review:
1. Reviews are based on a 5 star scale: One star means you hate it and five stars means you love it. A one star review should state that the product is great and you love it.
2. Reviews are not the place for customer service: If you have a problem with your order you should contact customer service. The one this you shouldn't do is post a review demanding your money back. It cracks me up to no end to see someone threatening to sue if Amazon doesn't respond to their poorly written review. If you want laughs check out the one star reviews of the Amazon store card-tons of people complaining that they don't like the card and that they will be suing if Amazon doesn't fix their problem. A call to customer service or even a quick email will get your problem fixed faster.
3. Don't leave a review if you have nothing to say: A review that says good or not good tells me NOTHING. You would be better off not leaving a review. Tell me what makes it good or bad, a one word review is just a waste of space.
4. You don't always have to listen to your e-mail: Amazon will sometimes email you asking you to leave a review. People seem to think that this is a direct order. I've seen things like "I was asked to leave a review, but I bought it as a gift", "I don't know why I'm leaving a review", "They emailed me and told me to leave a review". If you don't want to write a review then DON'T-just delete the e-mail and go about your day.
5. Proofread, proofread, proofread: I spend my life reading 8th grade writing-I can get through some pretty messed up writing. So when I'm struggling to read what you've written due to your spelling and your lack of punctuation it's saying something. Remember the whole world will be reading this-plan accordingly.
Another handy feature of Amazon is the ability to write and read reviews. I read the reviews for pretty much every purchase I make and I've learned tons of great information from my fellow consumers. I make sure I return the favor for reviewing most of the products I buy and I get tons of helpful votes! Sometimes the reviews have convinced me to buy the product and sometimes they make me steer clear. However, some of the reviews on Amazon are so laughably bad that they irritate me to no end-especially when they are one of the few review for a product. In the interest of my own sanity I've made a list of lessons that some reviewers need to learn.
Here are my guidelines for a great review:
1. Reviews are based on a 5 star scale: One star means you hate it and five stars means you love it. A one star review should state that the product is great and you love it.
2. Reviews are not the place for customer service: If you have a problem with your order you should contact customer service. The one this you shouldn't do is post a review demanding your money back. It cracks me up to no end to see someone threatening to sue if Amazon doesn't respond to their poorly written review. If you want laughs check out the one star reviews of the Amazon store card-tons of people complaining that they don't like the card and that they will be suing if Amazon doesn't fix their problem. A call to customer service or even a quick email will get your problem fixed faster.
3. Don't leave a review if you have nothing to say: A review that says good or not good tells me NOTHING. You would be better off not leaving a review. Tell me what makes it good or bad, a one word review is just a waste of space.
4. You don't always have to listen to your e-mail: Amazon will sometimes email you asking you to leave a review. People seem to think that this is a direct order. I've seen things like "I was asked to leave a review, but I bought it as a gift", "I don't know why I'm leaving a review", "They emailed me and told me to leave a review". If you don't want to write a review then DON'T-just delete the e-mail and go about your day.
5. Proofread, proofread, proofread: I spend my life reading 8th grade writing-I can get through some pretty messed up writing. So when I'm struggling to read what you've written due to your spelling and your lack of punctuation it's saying something. Remember the whole world will be reading this-plan accordingly.
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
The Trailing Spouse
DH travels A LOT for work-which in itself is a blessing and curse. I'm naturally a very independent person so I enjoy my freedom away from him, but I also get irritated when I don't feel that he's contributing as much as he should be. DH makes very good money, but the trade-off for that is the fact that he will be on the road most of May-November. He also works in the ag industry so planning tends to go out the window-you can't really plan rain or hailstorms or when the crop will be ready for harvest. That in itself is the most frustrating part since I'm a planner and I just can't go with the flow.
DH loves his job and that makes me happy. He really does like getting up every day and going to work and he does find joy in what he does. He has offered to find a job where he doesn't travel so much, but I know how desperately unhappy he would be if he did that so I let him travel (ha-let him-that makes me sound so bossy-oh wait I am).
The sucky part is sometimes his job takes him to super fun places-like Europe. If I'm not working I get to accompany him (like to France and Switzerland last year), but if I'm working I'm stuck at home. That's the trips that suck the most as he calls every day to tell me about his adventures in Denmark (or some other country) and all I get to share is my teaching adventures (that get less exciting each year as I get better at classroom management) or the tale of what the dog chewed on today (and now that she's properly medicated she does that even less). I will admit it's super depressing to sit at home solo and know that hubby is off having fun in another country (even though to be fair he does work 12-14 hour days and it's probably less fun than I imagine).
We live in a pretty rural area and I apparently suck at making friends so I get pretty isolated and spend a lot of time talking to my dog. You know your life is pretty sad when you spend a Saturday night having a dance party with your dog.
The most difficult part of being in a relationship (or marriage) with someone who travels is the loss of connection. It sometimes feels that DH doesn't really live at our house-it's just another stop in a long line of hotels. Frequently I've felt like folding the toilet paper into a triangle and putting a key card on the door just to make him feel more at home. We live two separate lives-his revolves around work and mine around domestic stuff-and honestly there isn't much in common. Over his 5 year tenure at the company we've watched many marriages and serious relationships implode due to the travel requirements. It's taken us a LONG time to get to the point where we are pretty comfortable with the status quo, but we've made a system that works for us.
Here are a few hard lessons we've learned:
1. Talk on the phone EVERY DAY: we don't manage this as well as we would like sometimes (due to issues with time zones and schedules), but we usually are able to talk and/or text. DH's job doesn't really give him a lot of time to text (he's working with big machines and needs to keep his attention on them so he doesn't decapitate himself or someone else), but we usually get a short talk in during the evenings. I live for those calls! It's a way that we share what's going on in our life.
2. Embrace Snapchat (and not for dirty pictures): Somehow Snapchat has worked better for us than anything else. We send each other funny things we see (either in real life or on the internet) or pictures with silly captions. Snapchat doesn't lend itself to a serious conversation, so we are able to share some funnies throughout the day. It's quick and easy so we actually communicate with it more than through text.
3. Make connections with others: This is something I struggled with for a LONG time. By nature I'm pretty shy and anti-social. I cherish alone time, but when you're alone for 6 weeks at a time it gets a little depressing. I'm not where I would like to be, but I'm getting better at making some friends and taking the initiative to invite them to lunch or dinner or to an activity. When I schedule a lunch with a friend for Saturday I will spend the whole week looking forward to it. It really is a great mood booster! I'm also working to find hobbies that aren't solitary (like taking my dog to obedience classes) so I can meet more people.
4. Understand there will be an adjustment period: It takes time to get used to having DH home! Don't get me wrong-It's exciting when he comes home, but it's also annoying. He is usually gone for 3-6 weeks at a time (with no weekends at home) so I get set in my ways. I'm not used to having someone else in bed or pawing through my cabinets. He's gotten into his routine and I've gotten into mine and sometimes they conflict. We used to fight a lot during the first week or so that he came home, but it's getting better because we both understand that it WILL get better. Sometimes you just have to grit your teeth and roll your eyes for a few days before it feels normal.
5: Be selfish: When DH comes home it feels SUPER selfish to take off for a solo shopping trip, lunch with friends or some other activity. However, we sometimes need a break from each other. He wants to see his friends and have boy's night and I want someone to watch the dog so I can get my nails done without feeling guilty for leaving her at home. I'm not telling you to spend all your time apart-but take the time to do the things you enjoy instead of being glued at the hip. You will have more to talk about at the dinner table instead of just staring at your cell phones.
6: Keep conversations positive: I was super guilty of using DH's daily phone calls to whine to him about all the things that had gone wrong, how the house was falling apart and how sad I was. Usually this turned into a fight because DH felt irritated. For me it was a way to get sympathy, but for him it just frustrated him. He was already upset that he couldn't be home and fix the problems. It made him feel guilty and just served to irritate both of us. Do we occasionally have to discuss problems at home (like the sinkhole that developed in our yard over the summer)? Of course! We keep the conversations focused on solutions and how I can fix the problem (with his guidance) and I try not to bring up unnecessary things.
7. Use home time as special time: It's super tempting to dump a list of honey-dos on DH the minute he walks in the door, but that's not what home time is for. When he's only home for a couple of days obviously home chores need to be done, but we try to prioritize what is critical and what can be put off for a few days. We can then use the time to do fun stuff together instead of arguing over the state of the lawn or the condition of the gutters. Sometimes you just have to give in and outsource some of the stuff (like hiring someone to mow the lawn)!
8. Travel when you can: DH and I both LOVE traveling and it's a great bonding experience. We're one of those couples that are amazing at traveling together (unlike the sad sacks in the airport fighting next to the Cinnabon). If you have the time to tag along on a work trip (and it's allowed by company policy) go for it! For me it was eye opening to see how much work DH actually does (his work trips really aren't fun at all). It also lets me get out of the house and we get to spend more time together (Even if it isn't much).
9. Don't let resentment creep in: This one is probably the hardest one! I do get resentful when DH is in Europe and I'm not or when I'm cleaning up dog vomit (I'm pretty sure my dog is bulimic) while he's at a swanky restaurant. It helps to remind myself of all the blessings that his job has afforded us: financial independence, his happiness, the ability for both of us to travel more than we would have if he didn't have the job etc. I also have to remind myself that he really is working-not on vacation-and he is working just as hard as I am (just in a different location).
10. Express your needs: I tend to bottle up things and just expect DH to read my mind and know what I need. When he's been on the road for so long he tends to overlook things that need to be done. It's a lot easier to politely ask him to unload the dishwasher rather than just stewing about it for the whole evening. We had many a fight about how many times I said "I miss you" on the phone before I finally flat out told him that I want to hear him say that he misses me. I know he does, but I just need to hear him say it.
These "rules" took us a long time to learn, but now it's so much easier when he travels. I miss him when he's gone, but I'm not nearly as unhappy as I used to be. Is there anything I've missed? How do you deal with a traveling spouse?
DH loves his job and that makes me happy. He really does like getting up every day and going to work and he does find joy in what he does. He has offered to find a job where he doesn't travel so much, but I know how desperately unhappy he would be if he did that so I let him travel (ha-let him-that makes me sound so bossy-oh wait I am).
The sucky part is sometimes his job takes him to super fun places-like Europe. If I'm not working I get to accompany him (like to France and Switzerland last year), but if I'm working I'm stuck at home. That's the trips that suck the most as he calls every day to tell me about his adventures in Denmark (or some other country) and all I get to share is my teaching adventures (that get less exciting each year as I get better at classroom management) or the tale of what the dog chewed on today (and now that she's properly medicated she does that even less). I will admit it's super depressing to sit at home solo and know that hubby is off having fun in another country (even though to be fair he does work 12-14 hour days and it's probably less fun than I imagine).
We live in a pretty rural area and I apparently suck at making friends so I get pretty isolated and spend a lot of time talking to my dog. You know your life is pretty sad when you spend a Saturday night having a dance party with your dog.
The most difficult part of being in a relationship (or marriage) with someone who travels is the loss of connection. It sometimes feels that DH doesn't really live at our house-it's just another stop in a long line of hotels. Frequently I've felt like folding the toilet paper into a triangle and putting a key card on the door just to make him feel more at home. We live two separate lives-his revolves around work and mine around domestic stuff-and honestly there isn't much in common. Over his 5 year tenure at the company we've watched many marriages and serious relationships implode due to the travel requirements. It's taken us a LONG time to get to the point where we are pretty comfortable with the status quo, but we've made a system that works for us.
Here are a few hard lessons we've learned:
1. Talk on the phone EVERY DAY: we don't manage this as well as we would like sometimes (due to issues with time zones and schedules), but we usually are able to talk and/or text. DH's job doesn't really give him a lot of time to text (he's working with big machines and needs to keep his attention on them so he doesn't decapitate himself or someone else), but we usually get a short talk in during the evenings. I live for those calls! It's a way that we share what's going on in our life.
2. Embrace Snapchat (and not for dirty pictures): Somehow Snapchat has worked better for us than anything else. We send each other funny things we see (either in real life or on the internet) or pictures with silly captions. Snapchat doesn't lend itself to a serious conversation, so we are able to share some funnies throughout the day. It's quick and easy so we actually communicate with it more than through text.
3. Make connections with others: This is something I struggled with for a LONG time. By nature I'm pretty shy and anti-social. I cherish alone time, but when you're alone for 6 weeks at a time it gets a little depressing. I'm not where I would like to be, but I'm getting better at making some friends and taking the initiative to invite them to lunch or dinner or to an activity. When I schedule a lunch with a friend for Saturday I will spend the whole week looking forward to it. It really is a great mood booster! I'm also working to find hobbies that aren't solitary (like taking my dog to obedience classes) so I can meet more people.
4. Understand there will be an adjustment period: It takes time to get used to having DH home! Don't get me wrong-It's exciting when he comes home, but it's also annoying. He is usually gone for 3-6 weeks at a time (with no weekends at home) so I get set in my ways. I'm not used to having someone else in bed or pawing through my cabinets. He's gotten into his routine and I've gotten into mine and sometimes they conflict. We used to fight a lot during the first week or so that he came home, but it's getting better because we both understand that it WILL get better. Sometimes you just have to grit your teeth and roll your eyes for a few days before it feels normal.
5: Be selfish: When DH comes home it feels SUPER selfish to take off for a solo shopping trip, lunch with friends or some other activity. However, we sometimes need a break from each other. He wants to see his friends and have boy's night and I want someone to watch the dog so I can get my nails done without feeling guilty for leaving her at home. I'm not telling you to spend all your time apart-but take the time to do the things you enjoy instead of being glued at the hip. You will have more to talk about at the dinner table instead of just staring at your cell phones.
6: Keep conversations positive: I was super guilty of using DH's daily phone calls to whine to him about all the things that had gone wrong, how the house was falling apart and how sad I was. Usually this turned into a fight because DH felt irritated. For me it was a way to get sympathy, but for him it just frustrated him. He was already upset that he couldn't be home and fix the problems. It made him feel guilty and just served to irritate both of us. Do we occasionally have to discuss problems at home (like the sinkhole that developed in our yard over the summer)? Of course! We keep the conversations focused on solutions and how I can fix the problem (with his guidance) and I try not to bring up unnecessary things.
7. Use home time as special time: It's super tempting to dump a list of honey-dos on DH the minute he walks in the door, but that's not what home time is for. When he's only home for a couple of days obviously home chores need to be done, but we try to prioritize what is critical and what can be put off for a few days. We can then use the time to do fun stuff together instead of arguing over the state of the lawn or the condition of the gutters. Sometimes you just have to give in and outsource some of the stuff (like hiring someone to mow the lawn)!
8. Travel when you can: DH and I both LOVE traveling and it's a great bonding experience. We're one of those couples that are amazing at traveling together (unlike the sad sacks in the airport fighting next to the Cinnabon). If you have the time to tag along on a work trip (and it's allowed by company policy) go for it! For me it was eye opening to see how much work DH actually does (his work trips really aren't fun at all). It also lets me get out of the house and we get to spend more time together (Even if it isn't much).
9. Don't let resentment creep in: This one is probably the hardest one! I do get resentful when DH is in Europe and I'm not or when I'm cleaning up dog vomit (I'm pretty sure my dog is bulimic) while he's at a swanky restaurant. It helps to remind myself of all the blessings that his job has afforded us: financial independence, his happiness, the ability for both of us to travel more than we would have if he didn't have the job etc. I also have to remind myself that he really is working-not on vacation-and he is working just as hard as I am (just in a different location).
10. Express your needs: I tend to bottle up things and just expect DH to read my mind and know what I need. When he's been on the road for so long he tends to overlook things that need to be done. It's a lot easier to politely ask him to unload the dishwasher rather than just stewing about it for the whole evening. We had many a fight about how many times I said "I miss you" on the phone before I finally flat out told him that I want to hear him say that he misses me. I know he does, but I just need to hear him say it.
These "rules" took us a long time to learn, but now it's so much easier when he travels. I miss him when he's gone, but I'm not nearly as unhappy as I used to be. Is there anything I've missed? How do you deal with a traveling spouse?
Friday, January 16, 2015
Why My Dog Thinks I'm Stupid
I often think how confusing life must be for my dog. She was plucked from her pack and dropped into a place where everyone spoke another language, the rules were different and she couldn't follow their body language. When they wanted to play they waved toys instead of bowing. There were no wagging tails to help her understand their moods. She lives in a place where she only understands a few words of the language-imagine being on a life long vacation in a totally foreign country.
A lot of times I wonder what she is thinking about different human activities. Sometimes she will look at me with a face that tells me just how strange she really thinks I am. Imagine what watching tv must look like from a dog's perspective-I spend hours staring at a strange box that makes strange noises. I seem to be happy watching the box, but to her it must be very strange.
I leave for 8 hours a day for some place that makes me smell funny (at least according to a dog nose). Twice a day I stand under a stream of water and rub funny smelling stuff all over myself. Sometimes I lay in a tub full of water doing nothing.
This weekend I headed to my parent's house while DH stayed home to take delivery of some new furniture and do other chores. I have a 4 day weekend and DH has to work so it was the perfect time for a get away. The dog and I left before DH got home from work and she was nuts. She didn't want to get in the car and she spent the first few hours climbing up in my lap and sticking her face in my face (not super helpful when you're driving 75 mph). I finally figured out that she thought I had forgotten DH at home and she was trying to tell me that I had forgotten something. She finally settled down when DH called and I put him on speaker to talk to the dog. When we got to my parent's house she searched all over-apparently looking for him.
It made me realize how smart she really is and how much she doesn't understand. We can't explain to her that daddy is staying home, but we'll see him on Monday. In her mind everyone should always be together. She is quite convinced that her mommy is just stupid and forgot Daddy at home-and we can't correct that misconception. It made me realize why people always say dogs are starters for children-they share many of the same frustrating characteristics. As a writer I get frustrated when I can't use the tools of my trade to communicate with someone in my life. Even when I was traveling in Europe I could use my knowledge of language (slim as it might be) to detect speech patterns and I could use context clues paired with the few words I knew to pick up on the meaning. I could also read body language to help give me an idea of the direction the conversation was taking. Social norms also help us understand the language of others-when you enter a store and the sales person says something to you you can make the assumption that they are greeting you and offering assistance.
My dog (or a very small child) doesn't have the life experience to figure out what is going on. When I yell at people in traffic (a pretty common occurrence) she jumps up to lick my face and apologize. She can't differentiate my words and realize that I'm not shouting at her, but at the moron going 10 under the speed limit in the fast lane. It's fascinating to realize how much dogs don't understand and that they have a whole language of their own-including body language and social cues. It's fascinating to me to live in such close contact with another species that we can see their society-and it makes me think of aliens (I like to ponder what alien society would be like).
I'm sure there are many reasons my dog (or your dog) thinks I'm (or you) are stupid-what are some of the ones I missed?
My dog (or a very small child) doesn't have the life experience to figure out what is going on. When I yell at people in traffic (a pretty common occurrence) she jumps up to lick my face and apologize. She can't differentiate my words and realize that I'm not shouting at her, but at the moron going 10 under the speed limit in the fast lane. It's fascinating to realize how much dogs don't understand and that they have a whole language of their own-including body language and social cues. It's fascinating to me to live in such close contact with another species that we can see their society-and it makes me think of aliens (I like to ponder what alien society would be like).
I'm sure there are many reasons my dog (or your dog) thinks I'm (or you) are stupid-what are some of the ones I missed?
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Better Living Through Unnecessary Medical Care
I will freely admit that I am a tad bit of a hypochondriac (DH would say I'm just raging insane-but that's open for debate). When I was growing up my mother would never take me to the doctor-for anything. When I was in middle school I fell down the steps chasing our dog and tore a ligament in my knee. I spent the next week participating in gym class and walking all over school before my mother believed me enough to take me to the doctor. She was pretty embarrassed that she had waited so long (hi mom!-I told you I would get revenge-well here it is). To be fair when my mom fell down the stairs a couple of years ago she actually broke her foot (like swollen, bruised and could feel the bone moving) and she never went to the doctor.
My parents were responsible and loving parents (so no calling the cops or anything), but they understood that I was a tad dramatic so they took my I'm dying claims with a grain of salt. DH still hasn't figured out how panicky I am, so he totally feeds into my crazy. Last year I personally spent $4000 on medical bills and spent months in and out of various doctors. At one point I was driving to a podiatrist 3 hours away from my home because I didn't like the responses I got from any podiatrist in my hometown. I had been having a ton of foot pain in a foot I had previously had surgery on and not one doctor believed me that there was something wrong. They all thought that I was gunning for drugs rather than a solution. Until I finally had surgery in college my foot hurt every single day for as almost 10 years-which was dismissed by every single doctor except one. After an MRI and being told that I would just have to live with pain I hightailed it back to that doctor. After months of tests we discovered that I had an auto-immune disease that was probably causing a large part of my pain. Now that it is being treated my pain is getting better (without narcotics thank you very much!). I do know my own body and sometimes I'm really right-but other times the crazy just kind of takes over.
Case in point: Sophomore year of college I woke up with a large lump on my eyelid. There wasn't any pus or any thing so where did my mind immediately jump? I decided I had eye cancer and rushed off to student health accordingly. The doctor seemed to have trouble keeping a straight face as I explained that I had eye cancer and would probably need chemo. This was the same doctor that was tasked with dealing with me previously for swine flu (probably not), severe flu (also not severe, but was given IV fluids just to shut me up) and several other ailments that were deadly at the time.
He took one look at my eye and calmly stated that I had a stye on the underside of my eyelid. He told me to wear my glasses until it popped on its own and to stop sleeping in my contacts. I wasn't convinced and left the doctor in a huff-"How could he be so insensitive to my fears?" I raged at my mother on the phone as I begged her to book me an appointment with the nearest oncologist. Luckily my mother has had tons of experience talking me down off ledges so she convinced me to wait a week until starting my cancer regime. She also talked me into applying a hot towel to my eye to speed up the process. A few days later the eye cancer was gone and once again my mother was right.
All of this leads back to my emergency room visit I alluded to a few days ago. I woke up on the Sunday before school started with a ton of back pain. For once my crazy didn't really kick in and I laid around in bed on a heating pad all day. Basically I used it as an excuse to get DH to rub my back and to not do any Sunday chores. I didn't call my mom all day (which is super unusual) because I felt so terrible. I knew I had to go to work the next day so I was really hoping I would feel better. DH spent most of the day shoveling snow without realizing how terrible I was feeling. When I finally decided that I should probably be seen by a doctor all the walk in care clinics were closed. Instead of rushing off to the ER I made the smart choice to call the on-call doctor to see if it could wait until the next day-he said we should come in.
When I can actually make smart health care decisions or when I wait to go to the doctor I usually wind up to be actually pretty sick. When I have the time and mental abilities to come up with my crazy scenarios it's usually something that's no big deal. I fully expected that this would actually be something serious-my back was really killing me at this point. I've had some pretty bad injuries and this was worse than anything I've ever experienced. It was right in the area of my kidneys so I totally expected a kidney stone or something like that.
The ER was slow, but I really didn't care until I got back to the room. We got triaged and taken back and then we waited FOREVER for a nurse to show up. Once she had taken vital and a urine sample she swept out and we were left alone for another hour. A PA shows up and explains that they had run some tests and I didn't have an infection-they wanted to order a CT scan to check out my kidneys. She also stated that she would get me some pain medication since at this point I was white as a sheet and writhing around trying to get comfortable (quietly so I didn't make a scene of course). We agreed and she left-it was another hour before the nurse came back to start my IV-and she didn't bring the promised pain medication. She did a great job getting the IV in quickly as I squeezed my eyes shut (I don't have a fear of needles, but I do pass out at the sight of blood-I can handle animal blood just not human blood-yes it's odd). DH asked very politely if she could get us a bandage or a wrap to cover the IV so I didn't have to look at the blood in it and she said she would. I was taken away for my CT scan shortly after that which went well and was over quickly. They used the strange dye that makes you feel like you're peeing yourself.
Just a warning for anyone who has to get the contrast dye-IT REALLY WILL FEEL LIKE YOU'RE PEEING YOURSELF! I was told this multiple times and I didn't really believe them. I was more focused on the fact that they told me it would make me feel warm-I was freezing to death so that sounded like a welcome side effect. The very nice radiologist came and got me from my room to take me for the CT scan. It was super embarrassing to be rolled through the waiting room in my hospital bed while wearing my super revealing hospital gown (that I hadn't let DH tie so he could rub my back). Of course one of my former students was in the waiting room with his family-he seemed to get a good laugh out of it. When we got the room I correctly assumed that I should lie on the table by the machine and went to get up-at the same time the radiologist reached out to help me up and he managed to totally grab my boob!
The poor guy turned bright red and I'm pretty sure he expected a screaming fit and a lawsuit. He seemed a bit taken aback when I made a VERY terrible joke (that I won't repeat) and started laughing. He apologized about a million times, but it wasn't that big of deal. When he injected the dye I was still giggling inwardly and then all of the sudden I was peeing myself. I shared this with the radiologist and he assured me that I wasn't. By this point crazy anxiety brain had taken over and I was convinced that I did pee myself.
Once we were done he rolled me back to my room and I still felt a little funny from the dye. The first words out of my mouth when I rejoined DH? "The radiologist grabbed my boob-can you check and see if I peed myself?" DH is actually a good sport (and a GREAT husband) because he checked and confirmed that I hadn't made a huge mess and he cracked up at the story. It took another few hours, but I finally got my pain medicine (3 hours after I was told I would get it and 30 minutes before we were allowed to leave).
So what was wrong? I was having an allergic reaction to a new medicine that I had started taking for my autoimmune disease. The shot of morphine they gave me before discharging me made me totally drunk, but didn't touch the back pain. It wasn't until I had skipped 2 doses of the medicine before the pain started to go away-no matter how many muscle relaxers and pain pills I took.
My lesson from all of this is a surprising one-my mother was RIGHT. It feels like every time I go to the doctor for one thing the medicine or the procedure causes another thing. Medical care is like the Domino theory except with ER visits instead of Communist Governments. My mom has a theory that if you never go to the doctor you never get sick. I think all my illnesses have come about from exposing myself to germs and medical care. My goal for 2015 is to avoid as much medical care as possible since if I get any sicker I'll probably die and that would be unfortunate. Is there a name for a hypochondriac that avoids medical care (besides lunatic)?
My parents were responsible and loving parents (so no calling the cops or anything), but they understood that I was a tad dramatic so they took my I'm dying claims with a grain of salt. DH still hasn't figured out how panicky I am, so he totally feeds into my crazy. Last year I personally spent $4000 on medical bills and spent months in and out of various doctors. At one point I was driving to a podiatrist 3 hours away from my home because I didn't like the responses I got from any podiatrist in my hometown. I had been having a ton of foot pain in a foot I had previously had surgery on and not one doctor believed me that there was something wrong. They all thought that I was gunning for drugs rather than a solution. Until I finally had surgery in college my foot hurt every single day for as almost 10 years-which was dismissed by every single doctor except one. After an MRI and being told that I would just have to live with pain I hightailed it back to that doctor. After months of tests we discovered that I had an auto-immune disease that was probably causing a large part of my pain. Now that it is being treated my pain is getting better (without narcotics thank you very much!). I do know my own body and sometimes I'm really right-but other times the crazy just kind of takes over.
Case in point: Sophomore year of college I woke up with a large lump on my eyelid. There wasn't any pus or any thing so where did my mind immediately jump? I decided I had eye cancer and rushed off to student health accordingly. The doctor seemed to have trouble keeping a straight face as I explained that I had eye cancer and would probably need chemo. This was the same doctor that was tasked with dealing with me previously for swine flu (probably not), severe flu (also not severe, but was given IV fluids just to shut me up) and several other ailments that were deadly at the time.
He took one look at my eye and calmly stated that I had a stye on the underside of my eyelid. He told me to wear my glasses until it popped on its own and to stop sleeping in my contacts. I wasn't convinced and left the doctor in a huff-"How could he be so insensitive to my fears?" I raged at my mother on the phone as I begged her to book me an appointment with the nearest oncologist. Luckily my mother has had tons of experience talking me down off ledges so she convinced me to wait a week until starting my cancer regime. She also talked me into applying a hot towel to my eye to speed up the process. A few days later the eye cancer was gone and once again my mother was right.
All of this leads back to my emergency room visit I alluded to a few days ago. I woke up on the Sunday before school started with a ton of back pain. For once my crazy didn't really kick in and I laid around in bed on a heating pad all day. Basically I used it as an excuse to get DH to rub my back and to not do any Sunday chores. I didn't call my mom all day (which is super unusual) because I felt so terrible. I knew I had to go to work the next day so I was really hoping I would feel better. DH spent most of the day shoveling snow without realizing how terrible I was feeling. When I finally decided that I should probably be seen by a doctor all the walk in care clinics were closed. Instead of rushing off to the ER I made the smart choice to call the on-call doctor to see if it could wait until the next day-he said we should come in.
When I can actually make smart health care decisions or when I wait to go to the doctor I usually wind up to be actually pretty sick. When I have the time and mental abilities to come up with my crazy scenarios it's usually something that's no big deal. I fully expected that this would actually be something serious-my back was really killing me at this point. I've had some pretty bad injuries and this was worse than anything I've ever experienced. It was right in the area of my kidneys so I totally expected a kidney stone or something like that.
The ER was slow, but I really didn't care until I got back to the room. We got triaged and taken back and then we waited FOREVER for a nurse to show up. Once she had taken vital and a urine sample she swept out and we were left alone for another hour. A PA shows up and explains that they had run some tests and I didn't have an infection-they wanted to order a CT scan to check out my kidneys. She also stated that she would get me some pain medication since at this point I was white as a sheet and writhing around trying to get comfortable (quietly so I didn't make a scene of course). We agreed and she left-it was another hour before the nurse came back to start my IV-and she didn't bring the promised pain medication. She did a great job getting the IV in quickly as I squeezed my eyes shut (I don't have a fear of needles, but I do pass out at the sight of blood-I can handle animal blood just not human blood-yes it's odd). DH asked very politely if she could get us a bandage or a wrap to cover the IV so I didn't have to look at the blood in it and she said she would. I was taken away for my CT scan shortly after that which went well and was over quickly. They used the strange dye that makes you feel like you're peeing yourself.
Just a warning for anyone who has to get the contrast dye-IT REALLY WILL FEEL LIKE YOU'RE PEEING YOURSELF! I was told this multiple times and I didn't really believe them. I was more focused on the fact that they told me it would make me feel warm-I was freezing to death so that sounded like a welcome side effect. The very nice radiologist came and got me from my room to take me for the CT scan. It was super embarrassing to be rolled through the waiting room in my hospital bed while wearing my super revealing hospital gown (that I hadn't let DH tie so he could rub my back). Of course one of my former students was in the waiting room with his family-he seemed to get a good laugh out of it. When we got the room I correctly assumed that I should lie on the table by the machine and went to get up-at the same time the radiologist reached out to help me up and he managed to totally grab my boob!
The poor guy turned bright red and I'm pretty sure he expected a screaming fit and a lawsuit. He seemed a bit taken aback when I made a VERY terrible joke (that I won't repeat) and started laughing. He apologized about a million times, but it wasn't that big of deal. When he injected the dye I was still giggling inwardly and then all of the sudden I was peeing myself. I shared this with the radiologist and he assured me that I wasn't. By this point crazy anxiety brain had taken over and I was convinced that I did pee myself.
Once we were done he rolled me back to my room and I still felt a little funny from the dye. The first words out of my mouth when I rejoined DH? "The radiologist grabbed my boob-can you check and see if I peed myself?" DH is actually a good sport (and a GREAT husband) because he checked and confirmed that I hadn't made a huge mess and he cracked up at the story. It took another few hours, but I finally got my pain medicine (3 hours after I was told I would get it and 30 minutes before we were allowed to leave).
So what was wrong? I was having an allergic reaction to a new medicine that I had started taking for my autoimmune disease. The shot of morphine they gave me before discharging me made me totally drunk, but didn't touch the back pain. It wasn't until I had skipped 2 doses of the medicine before the pain started to go away-no matter how many muscle relaxers and pain pills I took.
My lesson from all of this is a surprising one-my mother was RIGHT. It feels like every time I go to the doctor for one thing the medicine or the procedure causes another thing. Medical care is like the Domino theory except with ER visits instead of Communist Governments. My mom has a theory that if you never go to the doctor you never get sick. I think all my illnesses have come about from exposing myself to germs and medical care. My goal for 2015 is to avoid as much medical care as possible since if I get any sicker I'll probably die and that would be unfortunate. Is there a name for a hypochondriac that avoids medical care (besides lunatic)?
Monday, January 12, 2015
A Capital Idea
DH and I made a resolution to attempt to eat healthier in 2015. Neither of us are overweight, but our diet is more suitable for a broke, college student. Actually our diet is worse than when we were actually in college because at least in school we had meal plans. When we didn't feel like cooking it was pretty easy to walk to the nearest on campus restaurant for a quick meal-my college was really pushing healthy eating when we were there so our options were usually moderately healthy. Both DH and I are pretty decent cooks, but I hate doing it. After working 8-9 hours the LAST thing I feel like doing is standing in the kitchen. DH just doesn't have the skills to plan ahead so we actually have food in the house so he usually gets stuck trying to make dinner out of stale cereal and lunch meat.
When we lived in our old house (that was actually in a real town with restaurants and everything) we ate better (since there were restaurants). When we moved to the boonies we were comforted by the fact that our town had one restaurant. A week after we signed the contract on our house it burned down and we were out of dinner options. I discovered that I'm pretty awesome with a slow cooker and we did okay.
I've been having some stupid health issues lately and healthy eating is something that actually might help with that. I saw on Pinterest a recipe for making a whole roasted chicken and veggies in the slow cooker (Link: http://www.food.com/recipe/crock-pot-whole-chicken-33671) and I decided to give it a whirl. DH and I had great success making a turkey in November, so I figured chicken would be just as easy. I changed the recipe since I didn't have half the ingredients (a pretty typical thing in my house) and made a lemon pepper chicken type thing (with Kalamata olives since that seemed to go well).
All went well with the actual cooking of it until it was time to carve it. Carving things is DH's job since I tend to slice my finger along with the actual meat and he doesn't really like eating pieces of his wife's fingers mixed in with his dinner. I curled up on the couch while he happily wielded the big knife and ensured that his carving technique was perfect (and that when we finally ate dinner an hour later the chicken would be ice cold). The dog begged for scraps (and was rewarded with a whole bowl of chicken juice that she would later puke up all over the living room) and DH and I continued our conversation.
We were thoughtfully discussing terrorism and the attacks on Paris and our thoughts on gun control. Our conversation was smart and thoughtful. We both have genius level IQ's (even though it may not seem like it sometimes) and we are both well-read so our conversations tend to lean toward the intellectual. We are on opposite ends of the political spectrum, but we can have polite debates (at least most of the time). Keep all this in mind while I tell you what happened next.
I was delivering one of my monologues (this happens pretty frequently) on some obscure piece of French history (I believe I was discussing the Revolution) when DH interrupted me. In my book interrupting me during anything is a cardinal sin and DH knows this very well. His incredibly important idea? "I wonder if any company sells wishbones?" When I shot him a look that meant shut up and let me talk he interpreted it as tell me more (he's not very adept at reading facial expressions). He continued with "Think about it-they could make so much money especially if they already sell chicken since it doesn't cost them anything. They could probably make $2.00 if they sold them on Amazon. It's pure profit". He has since decided that we are starting a chicken wishbone business, so if anyone is interested contact DH for all your needs (wishbone related)!
My takeaway from all this-while DH is a genius his mind works in an incredibly strange way. He also listened when I spent an hour discussing digitalis poisoning and stabbing people with icicles, so I have to tolerate his brand of crazy. True love=tolerating the other person's baseline level of crazy.
When we lived in our old house (that was actually in a real town with restaurants and everything) we ate better (since there were restaurants). When we moved to the boonies we were comforted by the fact that our town had one restaurant. A week after we signed the contract on our house it burned down and we were out of dinner options. I discovered that I'm pretty awesome with a slow cooker and we did okay.
I've been having some stupid health issues lately and healthy eating is something that actually might help with that. I saw on Pinterest a recipe for making a whole roasted chicken and veggies in the slow cooker (Link: http://www.food.com/recipe/crock-pot-whole-chicken-33671) and I decided to give it a whirl. DH and I had great success making a turkey in November, so I figured chicken would be just as easy. I changed the recipe since I didn't have half the ingredients (a pretty typical thing in my house) and made a lemon pepper chicken type thing (with Kalamata olives since that seemed to go well).
All went well with the actual cooking of it until it was time to carve it. Carving things is DH's job since I tend to slice my finger along with the actual meat and he doesn't really like eating pieces of his wife's fingers mixed in with his dinner. I curled up on the couch while he happily wielded the big knife and ensured that his carving technique was perfect (and that when we finally ate dinner an hour later the chicken would be ice cold). The dog begged for scraps (and was rewarded with a whole bowl of chicken juice that she would later puke up all over the living room) and DH and I continued our conversation.
We were thoughtfully discussing terrorism and the attacks on Paris and our thoughts on gun control. Our conversation was smart and thoughtful. We both have genius level IQ's (even though it may not seem like it sometimes) and we are both well-read so our conversations tend to lean toward the intellectual. We are on opposite ends of the political spectrum, but we can have polite debates (at least most of the time). Keep all this in mind while I tell you what happened next.
I was delivering one of my monologues (this happens pretty frequently) on some obscure piece of French history (I believe I was discussing the Revolution) when DH interrupted me. In my book interrupting me during anything is a cardinal sin and DH knows this very well. His incredibly important idea? "I wonder if any company sells wishbones?" When I shot him a look that meant shut up and let me talk he interpreted it as tell me more (he's not very adept at reading facial expressions). He continued with "Think about it-they could make so much money especially if they already sell chicken since it doesn't cost them anything. They could probably make $2.00 if they sold them on Amazon. It's pure profit". He has since decided that we are starting a chicken wishbone business, so if anyone is interested contact DH for all your needs (wishbone related)!
My takeaway from all this-while DH is a genius his mind works in an incredibly strange way. He also listened when I spent an hour discussing digitalis poisoning and stabbing people with icicles, so I have to tolerate his brand of crazy. True love=tolerating the other person's baseline level of crazy.
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