Doctors and worry

I had a follow-up doctor's appointment on Friday. It's a good thing I had taken the day off work. After the two-hour appointment I got some new books from the library and went home. By that time, discouraged and overwhelmed with information, I was ready to have a big day of doing nothing except feeling sorry for myself.

So, my new illness management strategy got a test drive: This sucks. What next?

I went home, paged through a book, then decided to make a pot of chili. It's the first time I took out the crock pot this year, and I had fun making something nutritous for my and my sweetie. While it simmered, I went into the TV room and took out the still-unfinished satchel, and got to work. For the five hours I knit. Back and forth, black and gray, knit then purl. I wasn't thinking about the doctor, or the incredibly expensive medications I may need in the future. It was good to work on this gift for a good friend.

After lunch, the gray cat came to visit. Usually happy to be left to herself, she climbed up on my lap and snuggled for quite some time. She did this all the time when she was the only cat and I was the only human in the house, but has withdrawn a little since the addition of one more person and one more cat. The black cat came in after a little while, and curled up on the back of the couch, right behind my head.

What is there to worry about when there's knitting on the needles and cats surrounding you with warmth and purr?

When my sweetie came home, the worry came back with the retelling of the appointment, but he put me back on track with a hug and an echo: This sucks. What next?

Pizza. Love. Hope. A list of questions that will help us figure out where to go from here.

Airport security blues

So I've got an in-progress project (the felted satchel) and several lovely balls of cotton that are dying to be cast on, but I'm afraid to even try to bring my knitting kneedles on the plane to Washington, D.C. I brought a project with me to Ireland a few months ago, which was fine (and useful during layovers) on the way out, but coming back in, the Irish rules were different and I had to check my knitting. All well and good because I asked before I got to the gate security check.

With the new security rules here, I'm not sure if I should even risk it, especially on a flight to D.C. If I don't find out I can't bring the needles until it's too late, I'll lose my bamboo needles and my yarn. And who wants that? I'll stick with a book, ginger candy and some tissues in my carryon, I think.

No time...

I haven't gotten any knitting done in the past few days. Too busy with other stuff, a bad cold, stuff around the house, work, phone calls from family as their blood tests start coming in. Both of my sisters have some of the same clotting risk factors that I do. They don't know how many yet, but they know they're there. My parents are working to schedule their tests, too, and I've got to get something written up for the aunts and uncles and cousins.

I did make my sister a mala out of amethyst and silver beads. She's been worried about a lot of things and I thought the mala - a string of beads used to say a mantra - might help her. She should get it sometime this week. It was one of the first things I did after I found out how my bout in the hospital was going to affect everyone else in my family. I'm feeling a bit more settled with things now, and hopefully they will come to be, too.

Finding how to help through sickness

Just shy of three weeks ago I ended up in the emergency room. I couldn't breathe, because pain of pain in my left lung. Turns out I had a pulmonary embolism, from a blood clot that had broken loose from my right leg, traveled through my heart and went into the arteries that lead to my left lung. Blood tests showed I have three genetic conditions that make my blood more prone to clotting than most people's. My doctor said he's never seen anyone with all three before. Lucky me.

I've got Factor V Leiden (two abnormal copies of that gene), a problem with the prothrombin gene and with the gene for methylenetetrahydrofolate reductase, an enzyme. The good thing is now they know why a muscle strain led to blood clots. They also know how to treat it: lifelong blood thinners.

It also means everyone in my family has to get their blood tested to see what abnormal genes they ended up with. On the one hand, it stinks to have to tell all of these people I care about that my problems might be their problems, too. But it's also helping. Maybe by me going through it, and finding out what happened, others won't have to experience it. It's certainly not something I want anyone else to have happen.

What to do?

Somehow, rows and rows of gray and black stockinette stitch make me feel a little more grounded, especially when dealing with brand new bad news. Maybe it's because I'm working on something for someone other than myself. Go, satchel, go!

Knitting with what?

One day, soon after I knit my first hat (with cat ears and ear flaps, no less) I figured out how to use double-pointed needles correctly. I taught my friend Sarah the technique, using chopsticks, over a delicious sushi lunch. Doing what I love, with someone I care about, with whatever tools are at hand. What could be better?

And in no time, I'd finished two more hats, complete with cat ears and ear flaps, and moved on to the next stage in my knitting career.

I'm hoping this will be a place to write about my projects, and all sorts of other things, as they arise. I'm always into something, after all, and should have lots to write about, if I could only find the time... and put down my needles.