Another snowy day

Another Sunday, another snowy day. It's a very pretty snowy day, actually, just the right amount of snow. I'm going to guess we've gotten maybe 3 or 4 inches so far, nothing drastic. We might get a couple more by the time the snow stops tonight. It's in the 20s right now -- cold, but not frigid. And I just saw two magpies fly past my window. They were in the backyard earlier this week (well, two magpies were, I don't know if they were the same two). I was just thinking I don't see magpies as often as I used to. It would be lovely if these two would settle down and make a nest nearby -- perhaps even in one of our trees.

We did our usual Starbucks run this morning, despite the snow. Our one concession to it was going around 11:30 instead of 10. The boys got hot chocolate instead of their usual weird drinks. Teen A drank his quickly and munched down his ham & cheese croissant in the car, so that he was all done by the time I dropped him off at the library (to play on the computers in the Teen Lounge). He'll walk home in a couple of hours.

I can feel OK about the snow because we had some great melting this past week. Here is our lawn on Wednesday morning, after several warm days. Lovely big patches of lawn are visible and the street is almost clear of ice. It's so hard to deal with snow when the piles don't disappear, you just pile more and more snow on top of them. I know this doesn't look very attractive, but it made me so happy!

This was my week of medical/dental appointments, and what a week it was. Monday was the easy day -- I just went to the eye doctor and learned that my vision had not changed at all since last year and my eyes show no signs of damage due to diabetes. That was a nice appointment. 

Things went downhill from there.

Tuesday was my "stress echo" test. It wasn't all bad. I thought the whole procedure was quite interesting and I loved seeing and hearing my heart on the ultrasound. Such a hardworking heart! More than 61 years beating away. Hearts are such amazing devices.

But then I had to get up on the treadmill and I totally failed. Maybe I should have gone to the rec center and practiced walking on a treadmill to prepare. I wasn't sure whether I'd ever been on a treadmill in my life (maybe once?), and the experience was quite novel. I am a walker, of course, but I walk on level ground for the most part, and when I do go uphill, it isn't moving. When the treadmill started, I very quickly almost fell down, because it got ahead of me. Then I did all right for 20 seconds or so, and then it started to get ahead of me again. I wasn't aware of breathing too heavily, but the technician stopped the test at that point "due to patient safety with speed and grade," according to the report that was posted to the website the next day. Also according to the report, I have "Class IV functional capacity," which is the lowest level, and I am at "intermediate risk for future cardiovascular events."

So now I don't know what to think. From other sections of the report, it appears that my heart is in great shape, no blockages, nothing wrong at all. Sweet, lovely heart! But then there's that Class IV functional capacity. Does that just mean I'm out of shape? Is it from being fat? I've searched and searched the web and I can't figure it out. This is the official definition: 

Class IV Functional Capacity: Patients with cardiac disease resulting in inability to carry on any physical activity without discomfort. Symptoms of heart failure or the anginal syndrome may be present even at rest. If any physical activity is undertaken, discomfort is increased.

That sounds bad, right? But what is my cardiac disease, if my heart has no blockages or anything else wrong? While consulting Dr. Google, I learned that in addition to functional capacity, there is also something called Objective Assessment, which I think is based on what they see on the echocardiogram. If I'm reading my report correctly, I think I would be in Class A: "No objective evidence of cardiovascular disease." But I'm not sure about that, and it doesn't actually say that on the report. What does all this mean? I guess I will have to wait until April 4th to find out, because that is when I see the cardiologist again. It's a great worry, and yet I don't know whether I should be worried or not. Maybe I will just be told to embark on some big exercise program.

Now we come to Wednesday. Wednesday was tooth-pulling day, in preparation for getting braces next week. My appointment was at 3 pm, at my regular dentist's. They numbed me up extensively and then started to pull. And pull. And pull. And finally the tooth popped out. They let me take it home. It's so weird looking!

And so am I! It never occurred to me how strange I would look without one of my front teeth. I look like a homeless person, a meth addict. I've started wearing a mask again in public, even though we no longer have a mask mandate, so as not to frighten people. Missing teeth among the (housed) Boulder populace are unusual.

And then the pain started. When I called the dentist, on Friday, to tell him how much pain I was still in, he told me I probably don't have what is called "dry socket," where the clotting process is interrupted and the nerve is exposed. But clearly (he said) the nerve has suffered some abuse, probably from the difficulty he had pulling out the tooth. I'm now (four days after the procedure) taking the whole thing more seriously, alternating ibuprofen and acetaminophen, taking the painkillers BEFORE the pain gets a foothold, trying not to touch my chin on that side, etc. I'm very tired all the time. I can barely eat anything. I certainly can't bite down on anything. I have become aware that it will be years before I can eat an apple normally again. So weird.

But none of this is for any bad reason. Having the tooth pulled is the first step toward having straight teeth, functional teeth, teeth that can bite right down on a juicy apple or a crisp carrot without one tooth going further behind the other and perhaps chipping off a little bit when it hits another tooth in the wrong place. I'm a lucky person to be able to afford to do this. Keep thinking that.

Of course, if I die of a cardiovascular event before I get through the orthodontia, this may not have been such a good idea. I'm trying not to dwell on that possibility. After all, anyone could die at any time.

Here is what our lawn looked like yesterday, Saturday morning, as the storm started. It began as rain/sleet, which is why the pavement is wet but there's no new whiteness. This view really made me happy. More than half of the lawn was uncovered before the new snow started last night. Only tiny patches of ice remained in the street. Both driveways were completely uncovered. Teen B and I took a nice walk Friday night and I didn't have to worry about ice at all -- except in just a couple of places. So nice to be able to walk freely.

And now here's what our lawn looked like this morning, just a day later. Oh well. It's very pretty. You honestly can't complain about picture-postcard snow like this.

Rocket Boy is on his way home as I write. I don't know what time he left this morning -- undoubtedly later than he meant to -- but I know he's on the road now (he sent us all a text with photos of him crossing the Missouri River). If all goes well, he should be here Monday afternoon or early evening. I'm soooooooo looking forward to his visit. He hasn't been home in two months, since early January, and I've had all this medical stuff to deal with, and all this snow, and the TWINS -- who of course I love dearly, but sometimes it all gets to be a bit too much for me to cope with. I really need my partner by my side.

We have several things scheduled this coming week -- the twins' birthday, of course, and Teen A's annual IEP meeting, and the choir/orchestra concert at their school, and my BRACES (hopefully I'll be healed enough to be able to survive that). I'm also hoping to get some cleaning done tomorrow before Rocket Boy arrives, but I'm not optimistic about it. The pain, the tiredness -- it's hard to get anything done right now. I feel guilty and then I think, Class IV functional capacity! and I try to go easy on myself. I'll do what I can.

Yesterday would have been my father's 100th birthday, had he not died of heart disease at the very young age of 67 (Rocket Boy's age). I could not think how to celebrate it, but then my older sister mentioned that she had swept the floor in his honor. He was an outstanding floor-sweeper, took great pleasure in it. "Get out of my dirt!" he would holler at me or my little sister if we dared to walk down the hallway when he was at work. He was also very good at cleaning the kitchen. So I decided I would clean my kitchen to a fare-thee-well (my mother's description of how my father did it) and then sweep the floor.

It got late, I was tired. I did clean the kitchen, but not really to a fare-thee-well. I was too tired to sweep the floor. But I might try again later today.