Okay I have a little story for you...

 about what anxiety and catastrophizing looks like in real life. 

I am a world class worst case scenario thinker. I was raised like that. Every somersault was a potential broken neck, etc. Everything, I mean every-fucking-thing, was a disaster waiting to happen. I was raised on a steady diet of catastrophic thinking with a side of gaslighting.

It's another one of those things that I could write a book about but nobody'd publish because it sounds so over the top. 

Here's a quick one: I was a first time mother at 22. My son was an emergency c-section when they tried to induce labor and his heart rate dropped alarmingly, and much drama ensued and he was born via emergency c-section and with a partially collapsed lung and was briefly popped into the NICU on oxygen, and in about 3 days the drama was over and we went home. 

My parents were in town for their first grandchild's birth and were staying with us to "help." 

And I was told by my loving parents, while I was recovering from major emergency surgery and figuring out first-time motherhood: 

The doctors might be lying to you about him being okay. ARE YOU SURE??

I am NOT making that up. That was the "support" and "help" I received from my parents, as a nervous new mother who had just birthed her first child via emergency c-section.

They wanted to see him baptized before they'd leave. We weren't practicing Catholics, but we went through the motions to get them to leave, so two or three weeks after major surgery I got my ass out and we got him sprinkled so they would GTFO. They did go home, and I'm sure when my son turned out to be handsome and brilliant and 100% fine, they totally forgot the days they spent wringing their hands and telling me the doctors weren't telling me the truth. It was simply sent down the memory hole of things that inconveniently turned out just fine.

This is why my cousin said I could write a book but nobody'd fucking believe it. Looking back, I know they couldn't help themselves, they were both anxious and depressed people and thought that was the only sensible way to live. It's sad, but that's who they were. I'm not sure they were even aware of the lasting damage they did to their only child. 

The frustrating part of it is I KNEW they were full of shit at the time, and I've always been aware of how their reality was skewed, but man, it's exhausting to live with that.

ANYWAAAY...

Fast forward 40+ years, to how catastrophic thinking stays with me to this day, even when I know from life experience that the things that REALLY knock you on your ass seldom advertise their arrival in advance (see: brain aneurysms).

So, anyway...

I have had a growth on my nose for a while now. In recent months it expanded noticeably, and was bumpy and weird. My brain IMMEDIATELY went to "IT MUST BE CANCER!!" because of course it must be. After fretting and procrastinating for many weeks, I finally made an appt with a dermatologist's office. I of course picked one that had several specialists on staff that dealt with skin cancer on the face. I do know how to research.

So...my appointment was yesterday at 2. It was with a nurse practitioner, not a doctor, and I figured the NP did the screening on the first visit and then scheduled for a second appt with the doctor. 

I'm in the exam room and a tiny, strikingly beautiful young woman (the nurse practitioner) came in. She examined the growth on my nose carefully, and said cheerfully, "We'll do a biopsy of course, but that's a (something or other kera-whatever). They're benign. We can freeze it off or scrape it off." We discussed the impact of my need to wear my glasses to, yanno, function at all, and went with scraping. Freezing is the better option, it might possibly grow back after scraping, but I couldn't spend days with a healing blister where my glasses need to sit. Eddie and Gidget are many wonderful things, but useless as guide dogs.

A cheery, funny medical assistant put a bunch of shots in my nose to numb the area. I know a needle in the nose sounds dreadful, but this gal had mad needle skills, and I told her so. It was virtually painless. So I was numbed and prepped and the NP got to work. There was a somewhat gross moment when some sort of cauterizing tool was used and there was smoke and I realized it was coming from my nose, but that was more comical than actually scary. She stuck a bandaid on the spot, told me to dab it with Aquaphor and keep it covered with a bandaid for two weeks and that was that.

I've been shaking my head at myself ever since. I'd built this nose thing up into a BIG SCARY THING, imagining the worst as I'd been trained to do since birth, and now it's done and I have a bandaid where it used to be, and it was SO easy and no big deal at ALL. The entire visit took about an hour.

I wish I could get a refund on the mental energy I'd invested in this.

ANYWAY, I'm very glad it's finally done, and I can put it aside and focus on all my other imaginary catastrophies. I'm sure there will be more.

And Another Long Silence....

A quick recap of the last few weeks: 

Baby is growing like a weed and is going to be born around May 8, because he's a big boy and the doctors have deemed him ripe for picking a bit earlier than the due date.  At his ultrasound today he was judged to be around 6 lbs 11 oz at approximately six weeks from his official due date. He's a big boy with a full head of hair, though you can't see it in the latest picture. You can see his chubby cheeks:

 

As this is a "geriatric pregnancy" the attitude apparently is that once he's fully baked there's no reason to let him hang out in there for the last couple of weeks. My daughter is very ready to evict him; he's reached the very uncomfortable stage and her maternity leave will begin only a few days before he arrives. She also told her doctor she has zero desire to birth any record-breakingly large babies. She was 9 lbs. 4 oz. and I'm like a head shorter than she is, so there's definitely precedent for big babies in the family.

My new work situation is far more pleasant than the prior one, though I still want to retire this year. I like the people and the work much more, and I feel like I can actually use my PTO without guilt.

Gidget gave me a scare (and drained my bank account) the week before last. She stopped being able to climb the stairs, didn't want to eat, was obviously in pain, and of course this happened over the weekend. I took her to the emergency vet, and I am not going to rant at length about that experience again, but the place was NOT busy at all and we sat in an exam room for nearly 3 hours. She had a fever and was obviously in pain, and the tech kept telling me we were next, so sorry, an emergency came in (it was quiet as a tomb and I heard staff chatting) blah blah. After 2.5 hours I asked again when we'd see a vet and was told no promises on how long it would take. I finally picked up my feverish and by now very thirsty dog and left. The front desk staff was sitting around chatting and there was ONE lady sitting in the waiting area, without a pet. The next morning I took her to our vet, who admitted her for a day of IV fluids and antibiotics. By then her fever was 105. Pancreatitis. They let me take her home with pain meds after her fever came down, and after a week of being a sick little chicken she's totally fine again. 

Eddie is a splendid little character. He loves to walk, so I walk him separately every morning. He's hilarious, like a human toddler! If there's a work crew doing anything he has to stop to watch. If there's a garbage truck he wants to follow it. I have a feeling he and the baby are going to be the best of friends in a year, Eddie is very much a little boy.

I jacked up my knee again, I'm not even sure how. We went to Epcot last Sunday, just my daughter, the Baby Daddy and I, and we walked around sedately at pregnant lady speed and ate fabulous pizza at Via Napoli, and then we took the tram back to our cars, and I think climbing in and out of the tram jacked up my knee. Oh, the irony, I know! It doesn't take much, and it's SO random. I can walk 20k steps without a twinge, but twist it wrong doing something and it's sore for days.

It's not awful, it's been far worse, but this is getting old. So am I. I can't pretend otherwise anymore. Over the last two years of being trapped in my home office and stress eating I've put on about 15 lbs. on top of the 10 I've been trying to lose for a decade. It's just a fact that the weight and sitting on my ass is affecting me in all sorts of unpleasant ways and I have to deal with it, for real. 

And yet, all I want to do this weekend is sit on the couch with my dogs and knit baby stuff and watch movies, and I think that's what I'll do.

About 8 Weeks to Grandson.

When I saw his first ultrasound I marveled that anyone could make heads or tails (literally) out of what to me looked like a sea turtle. This one is clearly a baby. A BIG baby. I blame his parents, they've been joking about him playing football so he got serious about growing and is working out obsessively. Jokes about him being born with his learner's permit and a mustache are starting to seem like predictions. 😂

He's due sometime in May. His official due date is I think May 27, but the doctors say there's a fair chance he'll be induced a week or two earlier, because yes, he's already big and growing steadily, as well as kicking the shit out of his poor mom, because football tryouts are on his mind. I hope nobody's buying newborn sized baby clothing. 

We are going to try to get in another family Disney trip before his arrival, because my daughter is all for waddling around as much as possible between now and launch day, to get him to assume launch position and get ready to blast off. Right now he's lounging around transverse. There's still plenty of time to get him into position, but as my daughter pointed out, there's a chance he'll run out of room to make the turn. She's using a yoga ball and walking to encourage him to shift his ass.

Both my kids were c-sections (one an emergency when induction nearly killed him) and the second was scheduled because she was over 9 lbs. I'm 5'5". I had to argue with my doctor about her size; he insisted she wasn't that big and I was "just fat." No shit, he actually said that to me. I said a polite version of "You asshole, this isn't my first pregnancy and I can feel the weight of this child, this is not a 7 lb. baby." He scoffed, but scheduled a planned c-section.

I was awake for it, and it was actually kind of fun. They had Billy Joel (did I mention this was the 80s?) on the sound system, and it was all chill and amazing, so unlike my son's scary emergency entry into the world. They set up a mirror so I could watch, and invited a few interns in to observe. When the doctor lifted my daughter out, I heard one of the young doctors say, "Whoa, look at the SIZE of that baby!" And I felt the smug satisfaction of vindication, because "I TOLD YOU SO two months ago, asshole!"

Obviously obstetrics has advanced enormously since I had my kids in the dark ages of the early 80s, and I'm delighted that this little guy and his mama are getting amazingly attentive care. They were concerned about gestational diabetes, and she's been pricking her finger for testing 4x a day for the last week or so. (She doesn't have gestational diabetes.) They'll revisit his size and position in a few weeks and plan his entry into the world. 

Sebastian Antonio is on the way.  It's surreal.

His big sister Delaney has come around to the idea that her little brother won't impinge on her life all that much, so she's on board. 

I am already putting money aside for another cruise next spring, when I plan to be RETIRED. Because damn, I've done my time in Corporate America, without the pensions and stuff the previous generation could count on. I may be parking cars at Disney, with a smile on my face.

 

Life, Stress, Figuring Out How to Retire.

So, I started writing this a few days ago, ran out of energy, and never got back to it. It started as the usual "I can't stand this job, I just want to retire" whine.

Once again I'm vagueblogging, because my issue is not with the company AT ALL, it's strictly the job. Two years in (as an employee, after 6.5 years as a contractor in other groups) and I still don't feel like a good fit. I love my boss, she's awesome, but I feel like I'm letting people down at least twice a week because I'm just burned out. Many reasons, including (and this surprised me) working remotely. It turns out I'm not the introvert I thought I was; I miss project meetings and interactions with the rest of the team, it energizes and focuses me. I haven't had that in two years and I'm half batshit at this point.

Last week my boss and I had one of the one-on-one meetings managers do with their teams, and I told her this. We've known each other for years, I worked with her when I was a contractor for the company, we are definitely work friends and I've always been open with her, though I do couch it in civilized language and don't say "fuck".  She doesn't swear. I like her anyway.

I told her that my current situation was making me feel like I'm letting everybody down in all directions. I didn't throw anybody else under the bus, but did tell her that my current situation isn't doable. Again, I apologize for vagueblogging, but basically, I'm doing two different roles that have different deadlines, different teams, different work methods, different deliverables, and I'm losing my mind and ready to retire and eat cat food if I must, but SOMETHING HAS TO GIVE HERE.

I've gained about 15 pounds from stress eating. I sleep like shit. I scream "FUCK!" at every incoming email or Teams message (working from home has some benefits). This cannot continue. 

I still remember a couple of years ago shortly after I started this job, when I had Delaney here after school, and she wandered into my home office and looked at the screens. I gaver her a very brief and non-technical explanation of what I do. She listened and said, "This is not good for you." I was floored. I had expected a shrug and, "Can we get McDonald's for lunch?" Not that serious declaration. She was right.

So I met with my boss and we discussed ways to take one of the roles off my back for the next two weeks, so I can meet my deadlines on two big projects, as a temporary fix, to be revisited later. She followed through with a meeting with the team that has the deadlines I can't meet, and made those things disappear to give me some breathing room.

Today: PLOT TWIST! 

I was so immersed in working on one of those deadline projects that I didn't even see her Teams meeting invite, until the window opened on my screen. My first thought was that it was a check-in to see how I was doing on my deadlines and how long I needed before I could get back to my other tasks.

No. That wasn't it. She and the other manager, who has known me for even longer, got together with THEIR manager, and I am being transferred back to the group where I have the most experience and know how to get shit done. Long corporate story, but I was a contractor on that team and had to leave it to do another job in between and then this job before I could go back to that one as an employee. Yes, it is as dumb as it sounds, but there you have it.

Anyway, this is a story of women supporting women: both my current and former (and future) bosses went to their boss, who is also a smart, practical woman, and they figured out how to move me between groups without drama. 

Did all of my stress go away? Nope. Do I now work with people I really enjoy and do work I know how to do? Yup. 

Oh, and the funniest part of this is that my boss asked me on the call whether this will maybe keep me from retiring at the end of the year.  I said, "Maybe?" 

We shall see.

 

 

A moment of silence for bossylittledogs.com.

 It's gone, and I'm back here on Blogger.  I just couldn't justify the cost of hosting, etc. when I had lost interest in making it at all profitable.

I'd thought about starting a new blog here on Blogger, and I may get around to it one of these days, but for now, this still works. 

After all,

I still have bossy little dogs. 

It does need updating, and I need to learn the newer and fancier Blogger stuff, but it'll do.