A (Bunny) Love Supreme

My bunny Coltrane has cancer.

Even typing the "C-Word" brings tears to my eyes, which is a big part of why I haven't felt strong enough to discuss the situation in a public forum (I've known for a while now). But, it's a huge part of my life currently, and well, I could really use everyone's well-wishes right now.

I took the little guy to the vet a little bit ago because I noticed that one side of his snout was a little bigger than the other, and because he had begun sneezing more than usual. Well, the vet found a mass on Coltrane's gums above his teeth, and she immediately took blood and had me schedule xrays and a surgery so they could remove the mass and send it away for a biopsy.

The results were that the mass was cancerous, and the vet found that the cancer had spread into Coltrane's nasal passage, which was what was causing the sneezing (and presumably the goopy eye problem he's had for a while now). This is scary, as rabbits only breathe through their noses; his air supply is being threatened. The vet said further surgery was not an option, as they'd have to take around half of his face off to maybe get rid of it all. Chemo and radiation are also not good options for such a small creature. So, I'm currently putting some Chinese herbs on his greens, which are supposed to help promote healthy cell growth, and help limit bad cell growth.

However, over the past two weeks, Coltrane has started to decline. He has a bit less energy, and his poor bunny nose is now making whistling and gurgling sounds. When he sneezes (which is often), he makes this horrible high-pitched squeaking noise, which says to me that his nasal passage is smaller than it was before.

I left a message with the vet today to see if there's anything I can do, and to see if he'd be able to live comfortably with one out of two nasal passages open.

Anyways, all I can do besides give him those herbs is continue to give him love and comfort and time (and treats!).

And I also just want to say how much I love that little bunny. He's been with me for four years, and he's made me smile at least once every single one of those days. With Chris gone for the past 6-months, Coltrane has been my constant companion. I realize that a lot of people don't consider rabbits companion animals (as they take a lot more work/time/patience to bond with than say, dogs do), but he has absolutely been one for me.

So, please, send us some positive thoughts, vibes, or whatever it is you're comfortable with. I'm going to leave you with some photos of the bun from right after I first got him (please pardon the red-eye!), which was long before I started this blog. What a cute wittle bun.

The Bird is the Word

Guys, I promise I haven't made some silly resolution to STOP blogging or anything like that. Truth is, life's been pretty insane of late. And when I've had some spare moments, I've been spending them vegetating on the couch with Chris. Sigh.

Here are some updates:

Christmas/My Birthday/New Year's:
The seventeen celebrations that occurred over a three week period were great, though exhausting. Chris and I got some really nice things, including some sweet kitchen knives, an espresso machine, and a new lens for my camera. And, I'm now officially old. Sigh.

Pneu-MOAN-ia, the Sequel:
So, remember this? Yeah, the same thing happened to Chris again this year. He had a small cough for a long time that eventually turned into a horrible, bad, scary cough. That, on top of the whole snoring thing has made the past few weeks absolutely, bone-crushingly exhausting. I mean, like, super-dee-dooperly tiring. So, for awhile there, I kept waking up in the middle of the night several times (either due to snoring or coughing or both), which usually ended in me going to sleep on the single mattress we have in our music room/office. Or, Chris would sleep there. The couple times I slept in there, though, this stupid bird that lives in our wall woke me up.

Backstory: So, awhile ago now, a woodpecker pecked a hole in the side of our house (Chris heard it doing this in the middle of the day and tried to shoot it with a paintball from a slingshot, but that didn't deter this little effer). Annnnnnnnnnnnnd I guess he's (or she's?) still in there, because every time I stayed in the music room, I heard a very loud pecking sound followed by chirping, coming from the wall. Oh, how I hate that stupid Wall-Bird. In fact, after suffering from sleep deprivation and the frustration of having my significant other sick and not being able to do anything about it, I sort of focused my frustration on the Wall-Bird.

I had a dream that the wall bird got into the house, and was, in fact, like 3 feet tall and all multicolored (like a cartoon Wall-Bird or something). I chased it around and around and around, but it was faster than I, and, by the end of the dream, it had morphed into this weird Rabbit-Wall-Bird. Oh, how I wanted to kill that stupid Rabbit-Wall-Bird-Demon.

Anyways, Chris finally got to the doctor and is doing MUCH better! Phew. He's also snoring less now that his cough is fading.

But, the Wall-Bird still lurks about in the walls, waiting for some unsuspecting tired person to attempt to rest in the music room/office, like a Boogie Man in the night! Peck. Peck Peck. PECK. PECKPECKPECKPECK *chirp*. 

ARGHGHGGHGHGHGHGHH!

Happiness Is(n't) a Warm Gun

Last weekend, Chris and I met a couple that we are good friends with at a shooting range (yes, you read that correctly). The occasion was a birthday celebration. The birthday boy (our good friend) enjoys shooting handguns (apparently he and his dad used to go shooting together), so his girlfriend (also our good friend) set up an afternoon at the range for his special day (which I thought was incredibly nice of her! If Chris had asked for a day at the shooting range for his birthday, I would have been like, "ok, that's nice, wouldn't you rather go sailing instead?" to distract him from wanting to shoot guns). So, like I said, we met our friends for a friendly afternoon of friendly shooting. Happy Birthday- BANG! See? Friendly.

Chris was extremely excited to go. He brought his shotgun, which he rarely gets to use. I, on the other hand, was pretty nervous. I have shot a shotgun a couple times, and I didn't like it. In fact, here's a picture of me shooting a gun for the first time ever (can you tell I was nervous?):

You don't wanna mess with these kids...

Anyways, I've mentioned before how well I do with unexpected loud noises, and well, a shooting range just isn't the place for a person who jumps ten feet when their fuzzy pet rabbit manages to sneak up on them (true story). We got there, rented our guns (weird), bought our ammo, and then were outfitted with safety goggles and headphones that are supposed to block out a good deal of the noise. Well, mine didn't really fit my head very well, and they blocked out nothing. So, when we first walked into the dark, cold, scary warehouse that is the shooting range, I was immediately clinging to the ceiling that I had jumped up to (after gasp!ing), and trying to cover my ears.

So, both of us girls went out and demanded ear plugs, of which they were out. So, the man gave us their much nicer headphones, which actually sat on my head correctly. Why wasn't I given those right off the bat? It's a mystery. Anyways, that helped immensely, though, I still jumped every time an unexpected loud noise occurred, which was often. Mainly it was when someone was shooting a gun of the large variety.

Also, as I mentioned above, the warehouse was dark and cold, so I had to wear my winter coat and gloves the whole time. Ryan+Cold=Frowny Face.

The first gun we rented was a .22 revolver. Apparently this is a "sissy" gun. So, I shot that one (yes, I learned to load and shoot a gun all by myself) several times. At a Nazi Zombie target. I HATE Nazi Zombies! So yeah, a .22 kind of goes "Piff!" instead of "Bang!" which is what I really liked about it. And that was the only gun I shot. The birthday boy got a Walther PPK, a .38 (I think), a .45, and some giant revolver handgun with a frickin' scope on it.

Me shooting the .22 revolver

Chris bought some slugs for his shotgun (they don't let you shoot shot at a shooting range... ha, say that five times fast), which was kicking like a bull at a rodeo (ok, I recognize how lame that metaphor is, but I'm leaving it there). So I didn't get near that. I value my shoulders, thank you. Chris is a pretty good shot, and I think he had a great time.

Chris shooting the shotgun

Anyways, the point of all this is that we kicked that Nazi Zombie's Nazi Zombie ass! And that's all that really matters.

Ah, Nazi Zombie!

So, I've now had a new experience, though it was one I will probably not go out of my way to try again. I was much happier having lunch and drinking a beer at a bar (where the heat was turned on) afterwards.

But, if a Nazi Zombie trys some shit with me, you better believe I'll shoot him: Piff! You're dead.

Happy Candy Day!

Happy Day-Where-It's-Ok-to-Gorge-On-Candy to you! Well, that's all the holiday really means to me, anyways. I'm not in to that whole costume thing at all. But gimme a bag of candy, and I'm a happy camper.

In other news, the house continues to fall apart: The plumbing system (which we apparently share with the neighbors) backed up and our downstairs flooded. This was due, also, to the fact that our half-bath toilet runs (we always fix it when it does this, when we notice). This time, Chris was upstairs and I was not home, so the toilet kept running, and, because the plumbing system the duplexes share was backed up to begin with, the freakin' downstairs got gross.

So, this is what I came home to:

Think that's enough to scare the trick-or-treaters? I do. It's like our very own Halloween Nightmare. Boo!

In other news, I got my hair cut today, and I'm getting new glasses tomorrow. Fun stuff. I can't wait to be able to see!

So yeah, Chris and I are giving out candy and then we are most likely going to camp upstairs since the fan that our landlords gave us to dry up the wet carpet is SUPER FREAKIN LOUD. It's like we live on a jet or something. Oy.

Anyways, I was thinking of ways to be irresponsible on Halloween, and do you think I'd get in trouble if I went and bought some of those cute, tiny liquor bottles from the liquor store to give out to the kiddies? They're kiddie-sized... :)

Now, I shall grab another Twix, pour myself a brown ale (goes well with chocolate), and collapse until the next knock at the door.

On Pins and Needles

At the crack of dawn on Friday morning, I have to go get blood taken. And the doctor said I have to fast for 12 hours before the procedure. I'm pretty sure that means I will end up turning white as a ghost and then passing out, cracking my head open on a counter, and, ultimately, dying.

Now, that may seem dramatic, but that's only because I have this pretty intense fear of needles. People were not meant to have things STUCK into their flesh and blood. Nope, not at all.

So, I went in to talk about getting my thyroid checked (thyroid issues run in my familiy), and the doctor said I need to get blood taken to do so.

And the fasting thing is, I guess, because they're also checking my blood sugar and whether I'm anemic and blah blah blah. All I can think is that as soon as I know I can't have food, I will not be able to stop thinking about food.

Now I'm going to tell a super-embarassing story to get across how afraid of needles I am:

When I first came off of antidepressants, I had a really hard time handling anxiety... it was like I was on the pills for so long that I forgot how to handle the hard stuff without help. So, I went to the doctor to discuss it, and, because my blood pressure was high (white coat syndrome is what that turned out to be about), they decided to take blood. With no warning. So I totally freaked. In fact, I cried. Yes, I cried at the doctor's office at age 23.

Oy, so, when the nurse saw just how freaked out I was, she had me lie down on a doctor's table, and she used an infant's needle to draw the blood. I continued crying during the procedure, and, tears started pouring into my ears since I was lying down.

Well, I didn't die, but, later, I developed swimmer's ear. Yes, from crying. So, I guess it was really crier's ear. So I had to go buy that stuff that evaporates fluid in your ears.

The end.

Wish me luck Friday morning. I'll report back.

Kindred Spirits

Chris inadvertantly (this time!) scared the living Ba-Jeezus out of me the other day. We were cleaning the house and I was scrubbing the half-bath (which has one of those light switches that automatically turns on the fan when you turn on the light... hate hate hate, by the way), and I didn't hear him coming around the corner into the hallway. So, I turned and he was right there, and I jumped about sixty-five feet and gasped! and almost died of a heart attack on the spot. My heart was literally racing for an hour afterwards. I felt truly frightened.

That's when it hit me: I'm like Coltrane.

I'm always on edge. I'm never quite completely comfortable; it's like my body is always ready for the fight or flight reaction. Even when I'm lying down or doing something "relaxing" I'm ready to get the hell out of there if necessary. I'm aware of where the exits are, and I'm quite uncomfortable and claustrophobic if I detect that there is no exit or way to safety.

Conclusion: I am a prey animal.

Bunnies like Coltrane are wired to bolt when something unexpected occurs, and that's because their survival instinct kicks in.

Oh yes, they broke the mold when they made me: Me, the 5-ft 3-in tall, incisor-owning, upright-walking, 120-pound RABBIT.

Happy 4th Everyone!

Shades of Grey

I'm feeling pretty lost right now, and I know that's vague, but I kind of just wanted to write it down somewhere. And I don't know how to fix it.

I wrote the above yesterday and never published it.

Since then, I have gone to another Tuesday-night girls' night, and I laughed harder than I think I've laughed in a really long time. I cried at least four times from laughing so hard. A couple other girls who I haven't seen in a long time came to hang out, and I just had so much fun with everyone. And that's the kind of thing I really enjoy: Drinking a really good glass of red wine while telling stories and laughing and making fun of how extremely clueless boys are. Sigh.

One of my friends said something like "boys are so complicated." And I was like, "no, we're complicated. Boys are just idiots." And that's my thought for the week. Ladies, there's nothing you can do make yourself less complicated; it's just the way we are. And, even though it's easy to do (read: "...boys are just idiots"), it's not all that fair to blame boys for not getting us. They're simple. Things tend to be pretty black-and-white with them, and they have an On-Off switch. We girls, we're a million shades of grey all at the same time, and we have a dial with no labels that constantly needs tuned.

Thanks for yesterday, ladies.

Lately

You may have noticed that, lately (hey, that's the title!), most of my posts have revolved around two categories: One being my band's CD being released, the other being my pet rabbit Coltrane. And that is because those have been the two main things in my life of late (hey, that's part of the title!). But, the album is released and the bunny's doing fine, so it's time to move on (ok, first, I want to direct you to our new band website, where I will be writing a band-themed blog: http://www.rockrivergypsies.com/. That way, I can get all that info/energy out before I come back over here to bitch about stuff. You can also click on the "music" tab to listen to and/or download the CD!).

So, the thing on my mind right now is that my life is so perfect that I'm terrified. I have a new, great, well-paying job that is interesting and challenging. I have a wonderful man in my life whom I love very much and who makes me smile even when I'm feeling my down-est. We have grand plans for the future. I'm part of a local-level band that is tasting hard-earned success. Hell, I have an ALBUM, people. I have friends and family who care about me and who support me. I have a pet rabbit who makes me smile every single day. Chris and I have a house we're happy enough renting that we're renewing the lease. I have a couple freelance writing gigs, both of which I'm happy with. I feel pretty good about the way I look right now (new hair= lots of compliments!). I'm getting two weeks of vacation this year; one with friends, one with family. My car is in great shape. I love my guitars. The weather is going to start cooperating with me very soon. The days are getting noticeably longer. I'm reading a wonderful book. I get to see my sister soon.

I should be "Sittin' On Top of the World" as the old song says. But, I feel fearful. So far, my life experience has taught me that these, rare, perfect periods are short-lived and often followed by some kind of horrible blow. Is anyone else like this? Am I the only freak in the world who can't let herself relish her own accomplishments? Why can't I just let myself sit back and enjoy all the things I have (especially because, though some of these are due to luck, others are due to my own hard work and perseverance)? I feel so afraid to let my guard down and relax and simply enjoy. Maybe I should try doing yoga more often or something? Thoughts?

1 in Whosit-Now?

Today I came across an article on CNN.com that published the results from the CDC's recent nationwide poll about clinical depression. The results were that "Nearly 1 in 10 US adults [are] depressed." Here's a link to the article if you're interested: http://pagingdrgupta.blogs.cnn.com/2010/10/01/cdc-nearly-1-in-10-u-s-adults-depressed/?hpt=T2. The article wasn't particularly surprising to me, but still got me thinking about a couple things. What I really want to know is how many of those people are actually being treated for depression.

Next thing I thought about was how the Student Health Center at my college gave me a survey with like 8 questions to "diagnose" my depression. Surely it was similar to the poll the people in the CDC study participated in. What happened with me was this: I went to the Counseling Center after having a really hard time for too long (ok, understatement of the century), met with a counselor one time, cried uncontrollably, got sent over to Student Health, met with a doctor one time, cried uncontrollably, took a survey, got a prescription for antidepressants that day. But really, people. I can't believe 8 questions is all it takes for a doctor to whip out the Rx pad. The problem is, I only find this very surprsing because hindsight is 20-20. I had no clue then just how incredibly powerful antidepressants are. And the doc didn't tell me either. And you know what? I don't think doctors even really understand them fully yet.

Not to like, freak you guys out or anything. It actually turned out ok for me: I was on meds for two years and got myself into a much healthier place. But, I can't help but wonder if I would have been able to do that without drugs. I guess I'll never know. And I had no clue how powerful the drugs really were until I stopped taking them. I tapered down my dosage 5mg at a time for over 6 months, and still, the week after I finally totally stopped was pretty much hell. I had cold sweats, nausea, anxiety, rapid heart rate, the works. And one hellish day saw me throw up 3 times while in total agony from the worst headache I've ever had (apparently this is something called "SSRI Discontinuation Syndrome," which many doctors don't even acknowledge as a real thing. Yeah, ok, tell that to Chris's van and the toilet in the Japanese restaurant north of town). So, my point, is, meds should be prescribed with care. I feel like I probably should have gone to counseling multiple times before being sent to the doctor, and then I should have tried a few things before resorting to meds.

Now that I'm off the meds, I use exercise as my main depression-deterrent. I've heard more than once that at least half-an-hour of exercise per day can keep mild depression totally at bay. If you read the article I posted above, you know that depression is most common in The South (which they mentioned might correlate to the fact that so many people there are overweight, suffer from diabetes, etc). To me, that's like "duh." Gotta get moving to get endorphins flowing. Endorphins= happy! Now, that's not to say that everyone who doesn't exercise will become depressed. But, those people (like me) who have certain tendencies present, really should to help keep themselves mentally (and physically, again, "duh"), healthy. But, I also have to admit, the meds also kept me from being totally insane, which allowed me to train myself to employ different kinds of thought patterns (and I have no clue if exercise alone could have done this for me).

I'd also like to say that I'm not trying to stand on any kind of soapbox here. I'm also not trying to say that meds are evil and should never be considered. What I am saying is that maybe doctors need to put greater thought and care into the problem of clinical depression. Maybe they should tell their patients about how intense antidepressants are (and about how the first one they prescribe is not necessarily a fit). Maybe more research should be conducted so that we can truly understand what depression is and what SSRIs are, and why some people react differently to them than others.

And also, why are SO MANY people depressed???

Not enough vacation. That must be it.

Stress-Free Zone

Just as the stress from my day-to-day life has been toying with the idea of giving me a complete nervous breakdown, my dad sends me an email that just says this:

Subject: Save the Date! Beach 2011! 
Body: Stress-Free Zone at Crown Point, Corolla

"Stree-Free Zone" refers to the name of the house. All the houses at The Outer Banks in NC have names (like boats or guitars. If I ever have a house in the OBX, I am going to name it "Bahahaha, I'm Rich!" or "Go Ahead, Hate Me" or "Bob"). Now, we've stayed at this house before, so I wasn't surprised when I saw the name, but the timing on my dad's email and my current state made kinda go "whoa." And, the fact that I received the email when I was all wound up made me all misty-eyed to think of being in one of my favorite places with no obligations. And the name of the house is just too perfect. It practically orders you to relax. I envision this bubble surrounding the house (for those of you who play too many video games, we'll go with "force field") that strips away your stress when you pass through it. This is what I need at my own house. Oh yeah, and everywhere else I ever go. Oh, and a beach would be nice to have. The beach is pretty much my favorite thing in the world.

I haven't actually gotten to go the beach in a couple years now. Perhaps this has something to do with me being stressed... haven't gotten my relaxation fix! So, Chris and I are taking a weekend away to go camping at First Landing State Park near VA Beach in a couple weeks. We're going to bring the canoe. It's going to be awesome. Can't wait to get me some-a dat BEACH.

R's Rs:

Listening: Gillian Welch, Time the Revelator. Great album.

Watching: Bones, Season 2

Reading: Chesapeake

Workout: Bob Harper's Weight Loss Yoga. The cool down is RELAXING...

What, Me Worry?

(Ten points for those of you who know that is Alfred E. Neuman’s tagline from Mad Magazine).

I’ve been a worrier for as long as I can remember. Even when I was a little girl I worried every time my sister got in trouble or basically when anyone wasn’t getting along with anyone else (which, I learned, happens all the damn time). It was never something I thought was unusual. That is, until I got to college and my “worries” got worse and started causing physical problems. I got pretty thin. I swear that I was so uptight that my body metabolized everything faster than it was supposed to. I felt like I would eat and then be hungry an hour later. My stomach was always gurgling. I think maybe I worried so much that my stomach produced more acid than it was supposed to. I also kept thinking I was pregnant. I mean, I must have taken 25 pregnancy tests my junior year. As soon as I felt a little weird I would start worrying and thinking I might be pregnant. I literally worried myself sick (which I had always thought was just an expression). As soon as I felt nauseous (from worry) I would immediately think “morning sickness” and proceed to freak myself out even more. Horrible cycle really.

The reason I’m writing about anxiety on this post is that I had a horrible panic attack yesterday. I started feeling a little bit weird after I had my morning coffee and the feeling got slowly worse. Eventually I was breathing hard, wringing my fingers, shaking, bouncing, and my heart was pounding. I couldn’t make it stop. It’s so amazing what the body can do in response to the mind. I do have a lot of stressors to deal with right now, both in my personal and professional lives, and I guess it got to be too much. I had to take an anxiety medication to calm down at all. I don’t like taking meds when I don’t have to, but it was so bad that I didn’t know what else to do.

Today I spent some time doing yoga to try to get a little of the anxious energy out while also getting to relax. It was somewhat helpful. I think everyone needs to spend a little time doing something that is relaxing on a daily basis.

I also want to put an all-encompassing “thank you” out there to the people in my life who have helped me through these types of situations. Seriously, sometimes you can’t go it alone. Sometimes you need people.

Sorry this isn’t a particularly witty or funny post. I want to write about what is happening in my life, and right now, this is it.


RYAN’S RECOMMENDATIONS:

Listening: For the Roses, by Joni Mitchell- This is a beautiful album that I come back to over and over again. It’s in a sort of in-between phase for her (that is, in-between her folk and jazz influences). There’s a song on it called “Let the Wind Carry Me” that is amazing. I highly recommend it.
Reading: Watership Down is getting better and better. I’ve cried twice now reading it! The characters are fascinating (and they’re cute little bunnies!).
Working out: Weight Loss Yoga, by Bob Harper- This is the yoga DVD I did earlier today. It’s not necessarily easy, but it is not high-impact like some of the other DVDs I workout with. And the cool-down is incredibly relaxing. I feel like jello afterwards.
Researching: Cameras- Help help.