Stupid is as stupid does...

In my home, there is no land line.  Yes, we do not have a house phone.  We each have a cell phone and that suits all of our needs just fine.  In nine years of marriage we've never had a land line and haven't needed one.  We thought about it when Elliott was born but quickly realized that everyone who would ever watch our child would also have a cell phone so there really wasn't a need.

Having a cell phone only household has helped a lot.  We are on all the "do not call" lists and almost never get solicitations.  The occasional political leaving a message, the reminder call for a doctor's appointment or a pharmacy pick up but that's about it.  At least for Ross.

Me?  I get all kinds of crazy stuff.

At least one day a month, I get 5 to 7 calls from "unknown".  Who is unknown?  Lucky for me, he leaves a message.  Unknown is a fax machine and some person in an office somewhere faxes my cell phone on a pretty regular basis.

I always seem to get calls from random weirdos.  My number must be very similar to the number of some drug dealer or something.  Now, If I don't know the number, I don't answer the phone.  It's a pretty easy rule to follow and one I am very good at.  I'll gladly listen to a message and return a phone call, if it is for me, but if the number and the message don't apply, I'll definitely ignore.

So, this week I've received three calls and voice messages that sort of take the cake.  Each call has been from a gentleman named Mitchell from  the Hospital Help Desk.  He is calling regarding a message from Julie Smith about her e-mail account being suspended and not working.

I am not Julie Smith.  I did not call the Hospital Help Desk.  I do not have a suspended e-mail account.

It's fine that my number gets mistaken for someone else's number once.  Maybe even twice.  But, for a person needing to leave a message for Julie Smith, when he hears, "This is Ann...leave a message..." wouldn't you think he'd get the hint that he's using the WRONG number?

Not only that, but the third message left this morning (yes, when I saw the number and knew it was Mitchell I almost answered) was rather belligerent.  In a little too gruff of a tone, Mitchell informed me that he's called three times and since Ms. Smith hasn't responded he'll be forced to take care of the account issue by eliminating the account!!!  And, if Ms. Smith has a problem with that, she can use her ticket number to start the help desk issue over again!  And have a nice day!

Should I feel bad?  Probably a little bit.  Do I?  Not at all.

I'm not sure who is more stupid - Mitchell for calling the wrong number and leaving a message in the obviously wrong voice mail account three times or the person who left the wrong phone number in the first place.

In a nutshell...

Basketball...

Basketball...

And a little more basketball.

The boys and I delivered our family sub-for-santa project and had a really awesome experience at the Christmas Box House.

Eating all the home made whipped cream while waiting for the home made hot chocolate to be stirred with the home made chocolate spoons made by the mom with too much time on her hands.

Visiting Temple Square to see the nativities when there are no people and some sunshine instead of the lights when it's freezing and too crowded.

Receiving beautiful gift boxes of delectable treats from my super hip and cool Uncle Paul. I've never been gifted from Harry and David before and you have no idea how excited I was to break into those truffles and Elliott into the pears.

We also were able to listen to my Grandpa speak in church, as well as my dad.  I wrapped presents to put under the tree.  The husband and I even had a "date" whatever that is and though our intentions were good - to shop for a final few Christmas items for our kids and family members, we spent most of our time at the new Banana Republic outlet by our house.  Who can pass up the BR when the whole store is 70% off?

Not the boy that I married, that's for sure!  And, though it was nothing special, there is definitely something sweet, and sincere, and reminiscent of the "good old days" in hanging out just with him, sitting at the hidden back table at a barbacoa.

Time for a second opinion

During the last few weeks, it's been hard to have the bedes.  The medication that I take doesn't seem to be working, and some of it makes me very sick.  I've been struggling to manage my numbers, stay at an even keel, and feel "healthy" every day.  Because things just feel a bit out of control I did something I never do and last week called the doctor for an extra appointment to get some help, some guidance, some instruction on what I should do.

I got to my appointment yesterday, checked in with reception, and sat down in the waiting room.  Not five minutes later the nurse took me back, put me on the evil scale, and ushered me into a room where I would wait.  Apparently I'm too good looking to sit in a waiting room (or too ugly!) so I had to sit and wait for 35 minutes in an unused exam room.

After the appropriate time of waiting was over - I could hear everyone who was supposed to be helping me, the nurse and my PA in the hall chatting about what pharm. rep was bringing them lunch today - I was taken into another room to have my blood pressure checked, answer a few questions, and yes, sit and wait some more.

Finally my health care professional came into the room.  He's sort of a frantic Kramer-esque guy and though I don't particularly like him much, he's consistent.  In 5 years of visiting the same office I've been through 5 such professionals and this guy has stuck with me for over a year so I keep going back.

I tell him my issues:

1) The insulin Lantus that I am taking is no longer working properly or effectively.  If I do more than 45 units at night, I bottom out in a few hours (talking 30's people, that's real bad) and then have very high numbers in the morning (150 or higher, also bad).  If I do less than 45 I sleep through the night, but awake to numbers around 170.  

2) The oral drug I take, metformin, makes me sick.  He wants me to take 4 tablets a night but 4 is beyond my threshold and I wake up with stomach problems you wouldn't wish on an enemy.  It's pretty awful stuff and I cannot stand up straight, live in the bathroom all day, and say prayers that I can make it to preschool drop-off and pick-up without dying.  Seriously, I cannot explain to you what that medication does to me.  I can tolerate 3 tablets with a terrible episode every 4-6 weeks but if I take 4, I'm miserable within about 12 hours.

3) I've lost weight.  Not a lot of weight, but enough that I am seeing changes.  I actually went shopping for a size smaller pair of jeans on Saturday because mine are all falling off of me.  I haven't lost a ton of weight, only 10 pounds, but my jiggle is less jiggle and I have new muscles where I haven't had them for years.  This weight loss however has stalled.  It's like my body is a hoarder of poundage and won't let anymore go.  Some days I practically starve and sweat myself just to see a loss of some ounces and I'm not getting anywhere.  

These three things are making me nervous.  I am too much of a kooky rule follower micro manager to let my diabetes be out of control and I need help.  So, I presented my PA with this information, and a list of morning numbers since October.  He looked over my documentation, and prescribed the following.

A - Take the Lantus in the morning, then I won't bottom out.

B-  Take this cholesterol medication.  Even though I don't have high cholesterol, this medication should help my stomach so that I can go back to taking 4 of the evil metformin. 

C -  Oh, you've lost weight?  That's nice.  Oh, you haven't lost as much as you think you should be?  Well, you must be building muscle mass.

And with that I was given some paperwork for new labs to be drawn, scheduled a new appointment and was out the door.

None of my issues were addressed - in fact they were ignored.  I was very upset and called my husband to tell him it was time to find a new diabetes doctor STAT!  I need a second opinion, a new medication plan, and someone who will listen to me.  I'm not a dummy.  I know about my condition.  I do what I need to do to take care of myself.

So, my good husband listened to me on the phone, did some searching on the website of our insurance provider and found me someone new.  He made me an appointment for next week.  This time I'll try a woman.  A nice, grandmotherly woman who specializes only in diabetes.

I just hope that this is a start in the right direction.

In a nutshell....

Tis the season....

To be busy. This weekend marked the start of a whirlwind for us in the next 6 weeks or so.  Once we get through the holidays our Dad ditches us for the high life in Chile and Argentina for a couple of weeks while we freeze our butts of at home.

Ole!

We played Lego's with friends, who are almost like our long lost identical twin brother.

We attended Ross' work party where Elliott got picked up by a mildly creepy Santa Claus and I made a foolish attempt at a family photo in the elevator. Just once I'd like to have a picture of the four of us where we don't all look like dorks!

We spent our Saturday all going in different directions. Elliott went to a ball game with Grandma Connie. Ross and the Chick spent the day napping, dog sitting, eating pizza, playing video games, reading books, and playing ring around the rosies with stuffed dogs. I spent most of my day alone, standing in long lines, trying on size smaller jeans, and eating at In-and-Out alone. I did not have to share my fries.

Uncle Willie came to eat dinner with us and to play. He loves his nephews and his nephews love him lots. We watched videos of goats and hedgehogs and all things fart related on YouTube and wrote letters to Santa Claus.  It was a perfect night.

Too bad Santa and I haven't communicated clearly up to this point because everything the boy wrote on his letter to Mr. Claus WAS NOT something that the big guy has already had the elves whip up in the shop. Maybe the Santa letters need to be written in November next year.

Squeaky Shoes!

Someone:  "Hey, Annie, what's one of your most favorite sounds in all the land?"

Me:  "Oh person, that's easy.  It's the sound of basketball shoes squeaking on a gym floor!"

Someone:  "Really?"

Me:  "YES!"

I love basketball.  I love to play and I love to watch.  I love to yell and cheer and scream until I'm hoarse.  I love the teamwork and the energy on a court.  I love that in a few short seconds momentum and leads can change.

As a general rule of the universe these last few years however, it seems that the basketball gods have been against me because all the teams I cheer for are terrible.  Lose by 30 terrible.  Win one game a season terrible.  It's been a bit devastating to see my Runnin' Utes, who at the time of my youth and when I was a Ute dominated (well, they were good), turned to the rubble of the basketball world.  It's been hard to watch my brother give so much of himself on a court for a losing, head case team.

This year though....

This year is different.

At least for the Wolverines!  The Utes?  The suck worse than ever and I just cannot bring myself to talk about it.  But the Mighty Wolverines started their season this week and (knock on wood) are 2-0 and there is a spark on the court that gives my basketball gene a brain freeze.

Last Wednesday's game against East High School was truly one of the most fun high school basketball games I've been to in my life.  We came back from behind and were the WINNING TEAM.  Something that never would have happened for last year's bad news bears.  Yes, the fans taunted my brother, calling him Albino - which he is not by the way.  He's just very pale!  Yes, we came from behind and no, East high fans we don't "still suck".

Fast forward to Friday night.  The opponent was Logan high school a team that got the opportunity to beat our guys twice last year while taunting with racial slurs and bigotry.  I think all of us watching, and maybe some of the boys were a bit nervous and going down by 20 in the first quarter definitely didn't bode well for a victory.

But, these boys rallied.  They jumped out of the gym and rebounded and ran plays and boxed out.  They cheered each other on.  They locked arms on the sideline.  They smiled, they laughed.  They were excited.  They loved basketball.

And they won!

They rallied and they won.

 

There are a lot of things that I find fun in life but there are few that compare to the energy in a gym when your team is winning.  It's easy to always find fault with youth sports and as my brother has been through so many programs I'm often one of the first to jump on the complain train.  But....BUt....BUT....seeing these boys who I know, seeing my brother and his team win?  There isn't really anything else more fun than that.

Well, there is one thing more fun.  Reading my brother's tweets after the games.  That is pretty fun.