This week has been…unhinged. Not in a dramatic way—just in the quiet, ongoing chaos that seems to define life out here.
Weather Advisory
The weather cannot decide what it wants to be when it grows up. We’ve had heat, storms, cloudless skies, and winds that feel like they’re carrying opinions. The land is restless, shifting moods by the hour, and everything living on it seems to be following suit.
Environmental Developments
A patch of moss outside the garage has continued its slow and determined expansion. What began a couple of years ago as something the size of a half dollar has now claimed nearly two square feet of territory. It does not ask permission. It simply advances.
There is reason to believe this is not an isolated incident.
A small portion was relocated near the porch for observation purposes. It took hold immediately and has shown no signs of hesitation. The working theory is that it is attempting to reclaim the front yard and reconnect with its original source beneath the sugar maple.
Containment efforts are ongoing. Success is unlikely.
Basement Broadcasts
Tamar has taken up her seasonal role as Basement Opera Singer once again. The performances are frequent, passionate, and completely unsolicited. Tickets are not available. Earplugs are recommended.
Domestic Affairs
The Great Window Hammock Dispute rages on in the bathroom. No treaties have been signed. No compromises reached. It is a contested territory, and negotiations have devolved into passive-aggressive glaring and strategic repositioning.
Neighborly Relations
In a surprising turn of events, the Neighbor’s Singing Bull has been silent all week. We are unsure if this is a temporary ceasefire, a loss of morale, or simply the calm before the next dramatic serenade.
Security Update
The raccoons have not returned to the garage. This is either a blessing or deeply suspicious. We are currently operating under the assumption that they are regrouping, scouting, or hosting their gatherings elsewhere. Their absence has not reduced suspicion. If anything, it has increased it.
Medical Report
Typhon, our resident himbo, attempted to consume a Spicy Sky Raisin and was promptly corrected by nature. He survived, of course, but has since leaned fully into his recovery, milking sympathy and affection at every available opportunity.
He did, briefly, have a moment of questioning his life choices…
but ultimately decided they were just fine after all and has chosen to carry on as before.
Supply Chain Issues
Meanwhile, Chimera has escalated her cheese acquisition tactics. What was once polite begging has now evolved into direct physical intervention. She grabs. She insists. She will not be denied.
Wildlife Watch
Nyx has seen no deer this week, but she remains steadfast in her duties. Ever watchful. Ever ready.
Boo and Z continue their bird patrol with unwavering dedication.
Comfort & Morale
Carmilla has firmly re-established her role as my personal snuggle-pillow, a position she holds with great seriousness and no intention of vacating.
Ongoing Conflict
And Medusa…
Medusa has once again engaged in tactical warfare with the stick and string. She won the battle. This was expected. The war, however, is far from over.
The wind still moves through the trees like it knows something we don’t. The sky shifts without warning. The moss spreads. The animals carry on with their small dramas and daily rituals.
Final Assessment
Order has not been restored.
But life continues—loudly, stubbornly, and a little bit sideways.
All is as it should be.
Until next time,
Peace—and be safe.
Personal reflections on living with CRPS, Alpha-gal, and fatty liver—sharing my journey, gentle recipes, food ideas, and the small things that help me keep going.
Showing Up for My Health
Today I had a health evaluation through my insurance.
Nothing dramatic. Just a nurse, a checklist, and a conversation about where I am right now. Blood pressure, weight, medications, meals… all the practical things.
I came prepared. Blood pressure cuff ready, current weight, medications and supplements laid out, and a general sense of what I’ve been doing lately. Not because I have everything figured out, but because I’m trying to take this seriously in a steady, manageable way.
We went over quite a bit—my medications and dosages, allergies, supplements, eating habits, exercise, recent weight loss, and the possibility of some digestive issues I’m still figuring out. We talked about my counseling, my PTSD, and the work I’ve been doing around self-reflection and learning how to redirect myself when my thoughts start heading in the wrong direction.
I told her something that feels important to me: I’m working toward self-mastery. Not control in a harsh way, but learning how to respond instead of react.
Even my dreams have started to change. They used to leave me feeling like a victim. Now, more often, I stand up for myself in them. I wake up feeling stronger instead of shaken. That’s new.
We also talked about how I manage pain and mobility. I’ve been focusing on core strengthening through Pilates and chair yoga because too much walking or standing still aggravates my feet. I still walk as much as I can, but I’m learning where my limits are and working within them instead of against them.
I’ve made some practical changes too. I use a stool at the stove so I can cook and wash dishes without pushing myself too far. We replaced the tub with a walk-in shower that has a built-in bench and grab bars. I have a cane, walkers, and a wheelchair available if I need them. I can still bathe, dress, cook, and drive myself to appointments.
It’s not about doing everything the hard way. It’s about making things work.
She asked about falls. I haven’t had any, thankfully, but I have had some close calls. We figured out part of that was fluid in my ears affecting my balance, and that’s been taken care of. Between that and the changes we’ve made at home, things feel a lot more stable now.
We also talked about my mental health in a very real way. I clarified that my medication is for PTSD, not general anxiety. I don’t live in a constant state of anxiety, but I do have occasional panic episodes tied to triggers. The difference now is that they’re becoming controlled panics. They don’t take over the way they used to, and they’re happening less often.
That feels like progress.
I also made sure she knew I have a good support system. I’m not doing this alone.
At the end of it, she told me she was really happy with what I’m doing—for both my mental and physical health.
I’m not sharing this because I have answers. I’m sharing it because I’m showing up.
If there’s anything to take from this, it’s not that you should do what I’m doing. We’re all different, and what works for me might not work for someone else. But it might be worth having the conversation—with your doctor, your care team, or whoever is helping you navigate your health.
And if nothing else, I hope this shows you that you’re not the only one trying to figure it out.
It’s not glamorous work. It’s often slow. Sometimes frustrating. But it’s still worth showing up for yourself, even in small ways.
Until next time,
peace and be safe.
Nothing dramatic. Just a nurse, a checklist, and a conversation about where I am right now. Blood pressure, weight, medications, meals… all the practical things.
I came prepared. Blood pressure cuff ready, current weight, medications and supplements laid out, and a general sense of what I’ve been doing lately. Not because I have everything figured out, but because I’m trying to take this seriously in a steady, manageable way.
We went over quite a bit—my medications and dosages, allergies, supplements, eating habits, exercise, recent weight loss, and the possibility of some digestive issues I’m still figuring out. We talked about my counseling, my PTSD, and the work I’ve been doing around self-reflection and learning how to redirect myself when my thoughts start heading in the wrong direction.
I told her something that feels important to me: I’m working toward self-mastery. Not control in a harsh way, but learning how to respond instead of react.
Even my dreams have started to change. They used to leave me feeling like a victim. Now, more often, I stand up for myself in them. I wake up feeling stronger instead of shaken. That’s new.
We also talked about how I manage pain and mobility. I’ve been focusing on core strengthening through Pilates and chair yoga because too much walking or standing still aggravates my feet. I still walk as much as I can, but I’m learning where my limits are and working within them instead of against them.
I’ve made some practical changes too. I use a stool at the stove so I can cook and wash dishes without pushing myself too far. We replaced the tub with a walk-in shower that has a built-in bench and grab bars. I have a cane, walkers, and a wheelchair available if I need them. I can still bathe, dress, cook, and drive myself to appointments.
It’s not about doing everything the hard way. It’s about making things work.
She asked about falls. I haven’t had any, thankfully, but I have had some close calls. We figured out part of that was fluid in my ears affecting my balance, and that’s been taken care of. Between that and the changes we’ve made at home, things feel a lot more stable now.
We also talked about my mental health in a very real way. I clarified that my medication is for PTSD, not general anxiety. I don’t live in a constant state of anxiety, but I do have occasional panic episodes tied to triggers. The difference now is that they’re becoming controlled panics. They don’t take over the way they used to, and they’re happening less often.
That feels like progress.
I also made sure she knew I have a good support system. I’m not doing this alone.
At the end of it, she told me she was really happy with what I’m doing—for both my mental and physical health.
I’m not sharing this because I have answers. I’m sharing it because I’m showing up.
If there’s anything to take from this, it’s not that you should do what I’m doing. We’re all different, and what works for me might not work for someone else. But it might be worth having the conversation—with your doctor, your care team, or whoever is helping you navigate your health.
And if nothing else, I hope this shows you that you’re not the only one trying to figure it out.
It’s not glamorous work. It’s often slow. Sometimes frustrating. But it’s still worth showing up for yourself, even in small ways.
Until next time,
peace and be safe.
Reports from the Unsupervised: Sunday Edition (Unverified Sources, Highly Questionable Journalism)
In all of the excitement of the past two days (writing and visiting), I completely forgot to post my report from the unsupervised! So I shall now present it today...Sunday Edition.
Sparta Outskirts — Conditions remain unstable.
Weather continues to behave like it has something to prove, with storms rolling in, rolling out, and occasionally circling back like they forgot their keys. Thunder has been reported loitering in the area, and the sky cannot seem to commit to a personality.
Local authorities (me) are monitoring the situation from a safe distance with a beverage.
In Other News: The Cheese Syndicate Expands
Chimera, Charybdis, Lizzy, and Scylla have formed what experts are calling a “highly organized and deeply persistent” cheese acquisition network.
Sources confirm:
No cheese is safe
No wrapper goes unheard
No human movement in the kitchen goes uninvestigated
Negotiations have failed. They are no longer asking.
Basement Opera Returns for Limited Engagement
Tamar and Hapshetsut (Tay and Happy) have resumed their nightly performances in what critics are describing as:
“emotionally charged,”
“deeply confusing,”
and “possibly a duet, possibly a territorial dispute.”
Tickets are unavailable. Attendance is mandatory.
Wildlife Report: Suspicious Deer Activity
Nyx has reported being watched.
A deer has been observed lingering at the edge of the property with what can only be described as intent. Motives remain unclear. Nyx remains unbothered, though mildly offended.
Investigation ongoing.
Birdwatching Division Files Daily Complaint
Boo and Artemis continue their surveillance of the outside world.
Birds have been:
Loud
Numerous
Entirely too confident
Chirping has reached levels described as “excessive” and “personally insulting.”
No arrests have been made.
Domestic Dispute: Window Hammock Crisis
Matriarch Ivy has once again asserted full and undisputed ownership of the window hammock.
Attempts at negotiation have been met with:
Silence
Stares
Immediate occupation of the space in question
Other parties are advised to “find somewhere else to be.”
Agricultural Update: The Singing Bull
The neighbor’s bull, previously known for unsolicited musical performances, has been notably quiet.
Experts are divided: Some say he is resting
Others believe he is plotting a comeback tour
Residents remain cautiously optimistic.
Breaking News: Garage Breach by Masked Bandits
In the early hours, 2–3 raccoons—described as “organized,” “determined,” and “absolutely without shame”—were discovered conducting a full-scale search operation inside the garage.
Evidence includes:
Items knocked over
Generalized chaos
A complete lack of remorse
Authorities suspect this was not their first visit.
Security measures are under review. The raccoons remain at large.
Breaking News: Human Immobilized
Typhon (approx. 20 lbs, classified as “himbo”) has successfully pinned a human to a chair.
Escape attempts have been deemed:
Impractical
Unnecessary
Emotionally complicated
The human has accepted their fate.
Closing Statement
Despite ongoing chaos, all systems remain functional.
Barely.
Reporting will continue as long as conditions allow and snacks are available.
Until next time, peace and be safe.
Sparta Outskirts — Conditions remain unstable.
Weather continues to behave like it has something to prove, with storms rolling in, rolling out, and occasionally circling back like they forgot their keys. Thunder has been reported loitering in the area, and the sky cannot seem to commit to a personality.
Local authorities (me) are monitoring the situation from a safe distance with a beverage.
In Other News: The Cheese Syndicate Expands
Chimera, Charybdis, Lizzy, and Scylla have formed what experts are calling a “highly organized and deeply persistent” cheese acquisition network.
Sources confirm:
No cheese is safe
No wrapper goes unheard
No human movement in the kitchen goes uninvestigated
Negotiations have failed. They are no longer asking.
Basement Opera Returns for Limited Engagement
Tamar and Hapshetsut (Tay and Happy) have resumed their nightly performances in what critics are describing as:
“emotionally charged,”
“deeply confusing,”
and “possibly a duet, possibly a territorial dispute.”
Tickets are unavailable. Attendance is mandatory.
Wildlife Report: Suspicious Deer Activity
Nyx has reported being watched.
A deer has been observed lingering at the edge of the property with what can only be described as intent. Motives remain unclear. Nyx remains unbothered, though mildly offended.
Investigation ongoing.
Birdwatching Division Files Daily Complaint
Boo and Artemis continue their surveillance of the outside world.
Birds have been:
Loud
Numerous
Entirely too confident
Chirping has reached levels described as “excessive” and “personally insulting.”
No arrests have been made.
Domestic Dispute: Window Hammock Crisis
Matriarch Ivy has once again asserted full and undisputed ownership of the window hammock.
Attempts at negotiation have been met with:
Silence
Stares
Immediate occupation of the space in question
Other parties are advised to “find somewhere else to be.”
Agricultural Update: The Singing Bull
The neighbor’s bull, previously known for unsolicited musical performances, has been notably quiet.
Experts are divided: Some say he is resting
Others believe he is plotting a comeback tour
Residents remain cautiously optimistic.
Breaking News: Garage Breach by Masked Bandits
In the early hours, 2–3 raccoons—described as “organized,” “determined,” and “absolutely without shame”—were discovered conducting a full-scale search operation inside the garage.
Evidence includes:
Items knocked over
Generalized chaos
A complete lack of remorse
Authorities suspect this was not their first visit.
Security measures are under review. The raccoons remain at large.
Breaking News: Human Immobilized
Typhon (approx. 20 lbs, classified as “himbo”) has successfully pinned a human to a chair.
Escape attempts have been deemed:
Impractical
Unnecessary
Emotionally complicated
The human has accepted their fate.
Closing Statement
Despite ongoing chaos, all systems remain functional.
Barely.
Reporting will continue as long as conditions allow and snacks are available.
Until next time, peace and be safe.
Sunday afternoon reflections
It has been a busy few days. Friday, I started writing on a novel that I shelved about eight years ago. It's a historic novel and I an sticking to the knownfacts as much as possible, while inventing where facts are unknown. It's a tragic tale, but one that needs to be remembered. On Saturday (yesterday), we went visiting family and had a wonder day. UNfortunately for me, even these short visits tire me out physically, although I'm not sure why.
My pain levels have been the same as they usually are. A twinge in my back that gets sharp if I move wrong, and my feet always burn, ache, and tingle aroud a level of 6-7. I have started eating foods that are gentle on my digestion, in case I really do have gastroparesis, and so farI am doing well. I am dropping weight rather quickly at the moment, but this should start to even out soon.
I didn’t wander off this time. I’ve just been… settling. There’s a difference.
After a few days of things being off—body, routine, timing—I’ve been easing back into something that feels a little more like myself. Not rushing it. Not forcing it. Just paying attention to what actually works instead of what should work.
Turns out, the small things matter more than I like to admit. A simple meal that sits well. Water actually being finished instead of forgotten. Getting up and moving, even if it’s just to clean a corner of the room or toss out the quiet pile of “I’ll deal with that later.” Nothing dramatic, but steady.
I’m learning (again) that progress doesn’t always look like big steps forward. Sometimes it looks like not sliding backward. Sometimes it looks like noticing when something feels right and choosing to stay there a little longer. And sometimes it looks like eating four gingersnap cookies slowly and calling it a win because I didn’t overdo it.
Balance, apparently, isn’t loud. It’s quiet. Repetitive. A little stubborn. But it holds.
Still here. Still adjusting. Still choosing steady over perfect.
And honestly? That’s enough.
Until next time, peace and be safe.
My pain levels have been the same as they usually are. A twinge in my back that gets sharp if I move wrong, and my feet always burn, ache, and tingle aroud a level of 6-7. I have started eating foods that are gentle on my digestion, in case I really do have gastroparesis, and so farI am doing well. I am dropping weight rather quickly at the moment, but this should start to even out soon.
I didn’t wander off this time. I’ve just been… settling. There’s a difference.
After a few days of things being off—body, routine, timing—I’ve been easing back into something that feels a little more like myself. Not rushing it. Not forcing it. Just paying attention to what actually works instead of what should work.
Turns out, the small things matter more than I like to admit. A simple meal that sits well. Water actually being finished instead of forgotten. Getting up and moving, even if it’s just to clean a corner of the room or toss out the quiet pile of “I’ll deal with that later.” Nothing dramatic, but steady.
I’m learning (again) that progress doesn’t always look like big steps forward. Sometimes it looks like not sliding backward. Sometimes it looks like noticing when something feels right and choosing to stay there a little longer. And sometimes it looks like eating four gingersnap cookies slowly and calling it a win because I didn’t overdo it.
Balance, apparently, isn’t loud. It’s quiet. Repetitive. A little stubborn. But it holds.
Still here. Still adjusting. Still choosing steady over perfect.
And honestly? That’s enough.
Until next time, peace and be safe.
A Quiet Few Days
Life didn’t stop—I just needed to slow down for a bit. Sometimes that’s how it goes. The body asks for rest, the mind follows, and the best thing to do is listen.
I’ve been focusing on small things. Gentle meals. Staying hydrated. Paying attention instead of pushing through.
There’s something to be said for that kind of quiet care.
I’ll be sharing more soon as I settle into a new rhythm and start tracking what works and what doesn’t. For now, I’m just taking it one step at a time.
Until next time, peace and be safe.
I’ve been focusing on small things. Gentle meals. Staying hydrated. Paying attention instead of pushing through.
There’s something to be said for that kind of quiet care.
I’ll be sharing more soon as I settle into a new rhythm and start tracking what works and what doesn’t. For now, I’m just taking it one step at a time.
Until next time, peace and be safe.
Spiral or Steady
Yesterday was a lot.
I received some news that shook me more than I expected. I won’t go into details, but it was enough to send my mind racing and my body into a familiar place of tension and discomfort. When things like that happen, I’ve learned that I have two choices: spiral, or steady myself. So I chose to steady. I stepped back. I slowed down. I reminded myself that I cannot control everything, but I can control how I respond in the moment. I made tea. I sat quietly. I let my breathing settle instead of feeding the panic. And I leaned into the small things that help my body feel safe again.
Living with chronic pain means that stress doesn’t just stay in my mind—it shows up physically. When my nerves flare, I have to be intentional about calming them.
So I returned to the tools that help me:
my TENS/EMS device to quiet the signals in my back
my vagus nerve stimulator, which helps my body shift out of stress mode
my red light lamp for warmth and comfort
Epsom salt soaks for my feet
supplements that support my system (magnesium, B vitamins, alpha lipoic acid, vitamin D)
elevation and ice when needed
Some of these things help more than others. Some help in ways I don’t fully understand. And some—like the detox foot pads I tried—don’t really do much at all, despite the claims. But I’m learning that this process isn’t about perfection. It’s about paying attention: noticing what helps, what doesn’t, and giving my body the time and space it needs to settle.
I purchased my TENS/EMS device after seeing a chiropractor for my degenerative disc disease and bilateral sciatica. This little device was inexpensive but has been an amazing muscle relaxer without resorting to prescription painkillers. I can’t use it directly on my feet because the sensation is too much for me, but on my lower back it still helps send signals to my brain that allow my body to relax and the pain to feel less intense.
The vagus nerve stimulator was also a budget purchase, but it has more benefits than I first realized. I bought it to calm my mind so I could sleep better. It turns out it also helps calm my entire nervous system, including the nerves in my feet, and may even help with digestion by stimulating the vagus nerve.
Right now, I have to eat very gently because I may or may not have gastroparesis. I can’t get in for testing until October. CRPS and fatty liver can both contribute to it. So this device helps calm my fight-or-flight response, improves my sleep, settles my nerves, and may even help my digestion. That’s a big win for me.
The red light therapy lamp came to me by accident. When I ordered the vagus nerve stimulator, I was sent the lamp instead. When I contacted the vendor, they told me to keep it and sent me my original order as well. I haven’t used it much yet, but I plan to start and track how I feel before and after using it—ten minutes, thirty minutes, and a few hours later.
These devices can be expensive and aren’t always accessible, and there are a lot of variables in choosing a good one. If it’s something you’re considering, it’s worth researching and discussing with your doctor.
As for supplements, everything I take is done with clinician guidance and monitoring. I don’t follow trends or add things on a whim—anything I use has been discussed and approved to make sure it’s safe and doesn’t interfere with my medications. I don’t add or remove anything without checking first.
If my doctors tell me, “No, that doesn’t work for you,” I listen and accept it. CRPS is still a new experience for all of us, so in some ways I feel like the guinea pig while we figure out what helps and what doesn’t. Thankfully, my doctors have been supportive of that process and appreciate that I’m trying to manage this without jumping straight to stronger prescription pain medications.
I’ll be honest—I’m not a fan of mind-altering medications, even though I technically qualify for them. That’s a personal preference. If I ever truly need them, I will listen to my doctors. But for now, I’m trying to manage things in ways that feel right for me.
This is something I will likely live with for the rest of my life, so I’m trying to think long-term. If I start on stronger medications too early, my body can build a tolerance to them over time, and they may become less effective—especially if my symptoms change or the pain increases. Because of that, I prefer to use other options first and keep those stronger medications available for when I truly need them.
This isn’t about avoiding care. It’s about pacing it, and working with my doctors to make sure I still have effective options later if things progress.
Everything I’m sharing here is simply what works for me, with guidance and approval from my care team. It’s not a one-size-fits-all approach—just my experience, and what is helping me right now.
Yesterday reminded me that stress and fear will come. That’s part of life. But I don’t have to stay there. I can pause. I can breathe. I can care for myself in small, steady ways. And sometimes, that’s enough to get through the moment.
Today, I’m still here. A little tired, a little sore—but steady.
I don’t take myself too seriously. I’m human, imperfect, and figuring things out as I go, just like everyone else. I don’t pretend to be bigger or better than I am. But if I can make someone smile along the way, then that’s enough for me. Sometimes, someone just needs a good laugh—and I’ve got plenty to spare.
I don’t need pity. I need understanding. The pain is real, the limitations are real—but so am I. And sometimes, the best thing I can do is laugh, not because it isn’t hard, but because it helps me carry it.
Until next time, peace and be safe!
I received some news that shook me more than I expected. I won’t go into details, but it was enough to send my mind racing and my body into a familiar place of tension and discomfort. When things like that happen, I’ve learned that I have two choices: spiral, or steady myself. So I chose to steady. I stepped back. I slowed down. I reminded myself that I cannot control everything, but I can control how I respond in the moment. I made tea. I sat quietly. I let my breathing settle instead of feeding the panic. And I leaned into the small things that help my body feel safe again.
Living with chronic pain means that stress doesn’t just stay in my mind—it shows up physically. When my nerves flare, I have to be intentional about calming them.
So I returned to the tools that help me:
my TENS/EMS device to quiet the signals in my back
my vagus nerve stimulator, which helps my body shift out of stress mode
my red light lamp for warmth and comfort
Epsom salt soaks for my feet
supplements that support my system (magnesium, B vitamins, alpha lipoic acid, vitamin D)
elevation and ice when needed
Some of these things help more than others. Some help in ways I don’t fully understand. And some—like the detox foot pads I tried—don’t really do much at all, despite the claims. But I’m learning that this process isn’t about perfection. It’s about paying attention: noticing what helps, what doesn’t, and giving my body the time and space it needs to settle.
I purchased my TENS/EMS device after seeing a chiropractor for my degenerative disc disease and bilateral sciatica. This little device was inexpensive but has been an amazing muscle relaxer without resorting to prescription painkillers. I can’t use it directly on my feet because the sensation is too much for me, but on my lower back it still helps send signals to my brain that allow my body to relax and the pain to feel less intense.
The vagus nerve stimulator was also a budget purchase, but it has more benefits than I first realized. I bought it to calm my mind so I could sleep better. It turns out it also helps calm my entire nervous system, including the nerves in my feet, and may even help with digestion by stimulating the vagus nerve.
Right now, I have to eat very gently because I may or may not have gastroparesis. I can’t get in for testing until October. CRPS and fatty liver can both contribute to it. So this device helps calm my fight-or-flight response, improves my sleep, settles my nerves, and may even help my digestion. That’s a big win for me.
The red light therapy lamp came to me by accident. When I ordered the vagus nerve stimulator, I was sent the lamp instead. When I contacted the vendor, they told me to keep it and sent me my original order as well. I haven’t used it much yet, but I plan to start and track how I feel before and after using it—ten minutes, thirty minutes, and a few hours later.
These devices can be expensive and aren’t always accessible, and there are a lot of variables in choosing a good one. If it’s something you’re considering, it’s worth researching and discussing with your doctor.
As for supplements, everything I take is done with clinician guidance and monitoring. I don’t follow trends or add things on a whim—anything I use has been discussed and approved to make sure it’s safe and doesn’t interfere with my medications. I don’t add or remove anything without checking first.
If my doctors tell me, “No, that doesn’t work for you,” I listen and accept it. CRPS is still a new experience for all of us, so in some ways I feel like the guinea pig while we figure out what helps and what doesn’t. Thankfully, my doctors have been supportive of that process and appreciate that I’m trying to manage this without jumping straight to stronger prescription pain medications.
I’ll be honest—I’m not a fan of mind-altering medications, even though I technically qualify for them. That’s a personal preference. If I ever truly need them, I will listen to my doctors. But for now, I’m trying to manage things in ways that feel right for me.
This is something I will likely live with for the rest of my life, so I’m trying to think long-term. If I start on stronger medications too early, my body can build a tolerance to them over time, and they may become less effective—especially if my symptoms change or the pain increases. Because of that, I prefer to use other options first and keep those stronger medications available for when I truly need them.
This isn’t about avoiding care. It’s about pacing it, and working with my doctors to make sure I still have effective options later if things progress.
Everything I’m sharing here is simply what works for me, with guidance and approval from my care team. It’s not a one-size-fits-all approach—just my experience, and what is helping me right now.
Yesterday reminded me that stress and fear will come. That’s part of life. But I don’t have to stay there. I can pause. I can breathe. I can care for myself in small, steady ways. And sometimes, that’s enough to get through the moment.
Today, I’m still here. A little tired, a little sore—but steady.
I don’t take myself too seriously. I’m human, imperfect, and figuring things out as I go, just like everyone else. I don’t pretend to be bigger or better than I am. But if I can make someone smile along the way, then that’s enough for me. Sometimes, someone just needs a good laugh—and I’ve got plenty to spare.
I don’t need pity. I need understanding. The pain is real, the limitations are real—but so am I. And sometimes, the best thing I can do is laugh, not because it isn’t hard, but because it helps me carry it.
Until next time, peace and be safe!
Reports from the Unsupervised – Introduction
Life out here has its own rhythm.
Some mornings begin with the deep, steady call of a great horned owl. Some nights end with the coyotes hosting what I can only assume are very enthusiastic neighborhood gatherings. In between, there are birds arguing, cats plotting, a neighbor's bull singing, and at least one ongoing basement opera with mixed reviews.
I shall be naming names (my various cats) and sharing all the gossip here on the farm.
Each Friday, this little corner of my blog is where I share those moments—the small, strange, funny, and sometimes oddly comforting pieces of life on the land. Nothing polished, nothing serious. Just observations from a place where the wildlife has strong opinions and the humans are clearly not in charge.
Welcome to the unsupervised.
I hope it makes you smile.
Reports from the Unsupervised – Friday Edition
Mother Nature is off her rocker again.
It’s April, which in Missouri means we’ve skipped politely past spring and gone straight into warm winds that feel like summer is trying to kick the door in early. The trees are growing, the grass is plotting, and something new changes outside every time I look out the window.
Indoors, the situation remains equally unstable.
Tamar continues her basement opera. Reviews are still mixed, though she remains deeply committed to her performance and refuses to acknowledge any criticism. The acoustics, unfortunately, are excellent.
In the garage, a raccoon has declared squatters’ rights and helped himself to Ash’s food. Ash, who is our visiting outdoor cat, has not filed a formal complaint but is clearly reconsidering his dining arrangements. Negotiations are ongoing.
Zenobia (Z) has once again rejected her water dish in favor of the bathroom sink. She insists on fresh, running water like the royalty she believes herself to be. The staff (me) remains undertrained but compliant.
And of course, Chimera, Queen of Cheese, continues to rule with quiet authority. She has received cheese recently. This has not altered her belief that she is being tragically underfed.
All is as it should be.
Meanwhile, the coyotes held another late-night gathering, the owl continues his early morning announcements, and I remain here, observing it all like a very confused but entertained narrator.
Until next week…
Some mornings begin with the deep, steady call of a great horned owl. Some nights end with the coyotes hosting what I can only assume are very enthusiastic neighborhood gatherings. In between, there are birds arguing, cats plotting, a neighbor's bull singing, and at least one ongoing basement opera with mixed reviews.
I shall be naming names (my various cats) and sharing all the gossip here on the farm.
Each Friday, this little corner of my blog is where I share those moments—the small, strange, funny, and sometimes oddly comforting pieces of life on the land. Nothing polished, nothing serious. Just observations from a place where the wildlife has strong opinions and the humans are clearly not in charge.
Welcome to the unsupervised.
I hope it makes you smile.
Reports from the Unsupervised – Friday Edition
Mother Nature is off her rocker again.
It’s April, which in Missouri means we’ve skipped politely past spring and gone straight into warm winds that feel like summer is trying to kick the door in early. The trees are growing, the grass is plotting, and something new changes outside every time I look out the window.
Indoors, the situation remains equally unstable.
Tamar continues her basement opera. Reviews are still mixed, though she remains deeply committed to her performance and refuses to acknowledge any criticism. The acoustics, unfortunately, are excellent.
In the garage, a raccoon has declared squatters’ rights and helped himself to Ash’s food. Ash, who is our visiting outdoor cat, has not filed a formal complaint but is clearly reconsidering his dining arrangements. Negotiations are ongoing.
Zenobia (Z) has once again rejected her water dish in favor of the bathroom sink. She insists on fresh, running water like the royalty she believes herself to be. The staff (me) remains undertrained but compliant.
And of course, Chimera, Queen of Cheese, continues to rule with quiet authority. She has received cheese recently. This has not altered her belief that she is being tragically underfed.
All is as it should be.
Meanwhile, the coyotes held another late-night gathering, the owl continues his early morning announcements, and I remain here, observing it all like a very confused but entertained narrator.
Until next week…
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