My brain isn’t going to blow up. There isn’t an aneurysm. Whatever there was on imaging looked like a possible aneurysm, but wasn’t. It’s a normal variation. Something about the resolution on the MRA not being good enough to see the tail at the end of the bulge. It’s called an infundibulum. Here is the webpage the doctor showed me to explain the difference.
Long story short… There’s nothing wrong with the physical structure of my brain. Nothing is going to explode. And I don’t have to go back and see the neurosurgeon.
As for the way I was told about the “aneurysm”, well, I’m thinking of having a conversation with a scheduling supervisor. It seems like that isn’t something a scheduler should be telling a patient about.
So about a month ago, I saw a headache specialist because of recent uptick in migraines. It had actually been going on since the spring, but every time I thought about seeing someone, the headaches dropped off. But long about September, they were going strong and I was missing work.
The specialist ended up putting me on a preventative (Ajovy) and ordering an MRI and MRA (an angiogram). I finally got the scans done on Tuesday. This morning he calls before my alarm goes off and tells me I need to see a neurosurgeon because of “findings”. He didn’t say what they were. Ugh. When I talked to the scheduling person, she asked if it was for the aneurysm. I said that I guessed so because the specialist didn’t say. I managed to get an appointment for Monday morning, so at least I only have a few days to wait. The headache guy did say it wasn’t an emergency and that I didn’t need to go to the hospital right then and there. Part of me wishes it were because then I’d find out instead of having to wait.
I tried to read the report in my EMR. Usually a bit of Googling helps me understand things. Not so this time. I don’t speak radiology-ese.
So now I’m just going to hang out and try to keep my mind off all of this stuff. Thank goodness for Klonopin. I have some that my shrink prescribed for medical procedures. I plan on using it to help keep the anxiety at bay.
I wrote in my previous post about bench pressing with the funny looking swiss bar. When I was at my brother’s on Saturday, I did 3 sets of 5 with 50 pounds. That’s the bar plus 2 2.5 pound plates. I felt really good, so I switched out the 2.5 plates for 5 pound ones. I’m happy to report that I did 1 set of 5 with that. Also I had a math fail on my last post. 40+5=45, not 50. Sigh, that’s what I get for hanging around babies all day long. So now with the 5 pound plates, that brings me to 50.
Most of you probably don’t know much about my more normal growing up activities. I took dance classes at a local studio from age 3-18, and then came back after I graduated from high school as a feature soloist for the next recital (actually it was just the solo I did my senior year since it was the fall of my first year of college and I had already been in classes since July). I’d say the vast majority of my dance “career” (if you want to call it that) was positive. I enjoyed what I was doing, aside from measuring for costumes (the life of a fat kid). Those last few years, I really wanted to quit, but I got a good dose of guilt from my mother. Plus I had a sense of loyalty since there was only one other person still dancing out of our class (we’d been together since age 3).
Earlier in the summer, one of the girls I danced with (not the one above) posted on Facebook that she was having adult tap classes (as well as other classes) at her studio. I mentioned that I’d love to to take it, but I didn’t get out of work until 6:00. Fast forward to a few weeks ago, and I see another post about the upcoming session and the tap class is scheduled at 6:20. Perfect! I can get there in time. So I joined the class.
I didn’t have shoes for the first class, but I didn’t do too bad “tapping” in tennis shoes. Last week, I finally had my tap shoes and I was giddy to just start fooling around in the studio. Last week went so much better than the first. My muscle memory is coming back, which is amazing since I haven’t danced in 25 years. That old saying “It’s just like riding a bike” was spot on. I actually picked up the choreography faster than I did as a teenager. Funny things like treated depression make a huge impact on your learning ability.
Next week is “bring a friend week”, so I’m inviting any of my Cleveland area readers to come experience Rebecca’s teaching at The Studio. No need for tap shoes. Tennis shoes work. No prior experience needed.
It’s been a few months since I shot this video. I can actually do three sets of five with just the bar (45 pounds). If I increase the weight to 50 pounds, I can usually get in one set of five.
Lately, I’ve been using a Swiss Bar (aka a Football Bar, aka a Multigrip Bar). The biggest reason I switched to this is because I want to develop my triceps a little bit. I have a lot of hanging skin from all the weight I lost, and that’s the part of my body that bugs me the most. My brother’s bar is a 40 pound one and I reliably do three sets of five with just the bar. I’ve started adding five pounds, for a total of 50, and that’s going quite well. In addition to working a different part of my arm, it also helps with my shoulder. Almost two years ago, I fell at work and broke my left proximal humorous. My left shoulder has been much weaker than my right, though it’s getting closer to being the same.
I love doing art with the babies at work. And I like to think they have a fine old time doing it too. I really wish I could post pictures of them, but unfortunately, I can’t.
Last week, we finger painted. I was at a preschool that was having a closing sale a few months ago. I picked up some non-toxic finger paint. OMG, babies put just about everything in their mouths, especially if they think it’s food. I got these canvases at the dollar store (a teacher’s best friend).
We also did another art project, this time with sticky paper, paper and ribbon. I peeled the backing off the sticky paper and cut up some ribbon. I let the babies put the ribbon directly on the sticky paper. Then I put a piece of marbled paper (left over from the 90s when we had a pin feed printer). I completed the sandwich with a second sheet of sticky paper, punched a hole and added a ribbon for hanging. It’s amazing what you can do with just a little bit.
A stray neighborhood cat has adopted my brother. He’s such a sweetie pie. I’m a proud auntie.
Billy decided to call him Shadow because he sort of crept out of the shadows and slowly nuzzled up to him.
Shadow will actually come into Billy’s garage/gym and jump up on the bench.
As some of you may know, my initial plan for my adult life was to become a pediatrician. For various reasons, I changed my mind. I decided to go to graduate school to pursue my doctorate in infant cognition and perceptions. Because of illness, I had to give up that dream, though not before publishing my masters thesis.
Then I spent about eight years (on and off) teaching English in South Korea. When I came home, I battled illness, both physical and psychological. An excellent treatment team consisting of the University Hospitals, Cleveland bariatrics program, a general practitioner, a psychiatrist and a psychologist.
Just over three years ago, I applied for jobs in the child care/early childhood education industry. Despite what some may believe, we are not baby sitters. We are qualified educators with requirements to maintain our qualification. Like our K-12 colleges, I have to write lesson plans, do assessments, set goals, have parent/teacher conferences and much more. It really annoys me when someone tells me it must be so much fun to play with babies all day. Yes, it is a lot of fun, but it’s a TON of work, especially with the youngest infants.
I landed a job at a center just four minutes from my house. I began as a preschool teacher. Although I liked what I was doing, it wasn’t just right for me. I spent one summer developing and running the Summer Bridge program to help insure our school aged students didn’t lose too much ground over their long vacation. That definitely wasn’t the right place for me. I have so much respect for my K-12 colleges. I could not do their job. After returning to the preschool for a while, I found my true love, unsurprisingly, infants.
I started working with the older infants, 12-18 months of age. I enjoyed my ability to watch development, in what seems like fast forward. Then COVID hit. Our center closed. When we reopened, due to staffing difficulties, we combined the younger and older infants into one room. We being providing care for infants beginning at six weeks of age. So far, the youngest infant came to me at just under four months. She’s now 14 months old and it amazes me every day how much she’s changed. My little Londynn was basically a blob when she came. I had to feed her, hold her, carry her, decipher her cries. Not anymore. She’s saying single words and even a phrase or two (like “eat eat” when she’s hungry). I’ve been home sick for the last week (scientists don’t need to develop bioweapons, just use baby snot), so she just might be walking on her own now.
That’s a long preamble to post some pictures of my classroom. For those of you who don’t know me personally, I have a bit of a perfectionistic trend. I take great pride in keeping my room fresh and interesting. I have taken continuing education courses on how to set up an effective infant or toddler classroom. When we had our Step Up to Quality visit a few months ago, I received great feedback from the assessor. I’ve helped other teachers set up and enhance their classrooms as well.
Without further ado…
I love displaying the artwork the babies do. I generally have a theme for the bulletin board over the changing table. Currently, it’s summer. In the photo above, we did some tape resist painting using their initials. Other artwork is on the walls using inexpensive bulletin board boarder from the dollar store to frame it. The red, yellow and green posters are pictures of the babies in various activities. One is them eating, another is them doing art and the final one is them reading. And boy do they love to read. The large bulleting board above the play kitchen area says, “What Us Learn… and Grow!” and features pictures of them doing various activities.
As for how they do art? There’s an art to doing art with babies, but once you discover the methods, it’s a lot of fun, and surprisingly not very messy. I have a container and marbles that I put paper and paint in and let them shake, shake shake it. I have a salad spinner that I load with paper and paint and they push the plunger, sometimes with some assistance from me. I put the paper and paint in a plastic zipper bag, seal it up and they pick it up and smush and squish to their hearts desire. The next method is the one with a higher chance of mess, but it’s not too bad. You take your paper and paint (or even wooden forms) and sandwich them between two slices of deli paper (or any other sort of paper bigger than the artwork) and let them pat it, hit or rub it. Peal the deli paper away and your art is left behind. This is how I helped them make their initial. For those who are brave, I’ve done handprints. And for those who are super duper extra dedicated, take their shirts off, put on an art shirt and let them finger paint. There is nontoxic washable paint on the market, or you can make your own using various edible materials.
I hope you enjoyed
We had, up until this evening, a tree on our tree lawn. A line of severe thunderstorms flew through the greater Cleveland area earlier. When the alert came through my phone, it said winds up to 80 mph. Looking at our poor tree, I can believe it.
It could have been much, much much worse. There are a few pictures of huge trees that came down in the area. AJ Colby says more storms are in the future due to the high temperatures and humidity we’re having. Check out this segment of him talking with images of the radar and satellite from the storm. It does look like we’ll have a nice weekend, knock on wood.
I don’t have many memories from childhood. Most of them consist of what I describe as “snapshots”. It’s like a picture of sorts in my mind. Sometimes I know the context and sometimes I don’t.
Seeing the tree on the ground brought back one of these snapshots. It’s me standing in a garden center holding onto the trunk of this (much smaller version) tree. There isn’t much more to it. I’m actually assuming it’s a garden center, because where else would you have bought a tree in the late 70s. I guess it isn’t even a picture so much. It’s more of like me looking outside from inside of me knowing I’m holding onto this tree.
For some reason, seeing the tree on the ground made me cry last night. I don’t feel particularly emotionally attached to that tree. Maybe because it’s one of the few nontraumatic memories I have? I don’t know. And at the moment, I’m overwhelmed with everything else and I don’t want to explore it. Maybe when I talk to Dr. D the week after next.