Preparing for Ketamine Infusions

How to prepare for ketamine sedation.
First of all bring your sense of humor. I know. It's been misplaced. It's with the rest of your self that has been lost for ages now. But just for the sake of argument, pretend you're still here.
Pack comfortable clothing. Not the kind you can remove. I mean the kind nurses can remove. Not that they're being frisky. But believe it or not, when under sedation - things happen. You can suddenly have to go to the bathroom and whoops! Pants go off, gloves go one, catheter goes in! Yup, I didn't expect that either. Neither did my hooey. I had to explain it to her later they weren't trying to be mean or any thing, but when a girls's gotta go, a girl's gotta go. So I'll glad I wore light-weight sweats. That I found slightly pulled down below my buttox upon waking up. I never knew what hit me. Which is why I was so glad to have my dear friend with me who explained I had a potty problem and not to try to walk. Then she remembered I couldn't walk anyway. So that argument was rather short.
Moral of the story - when they say don't drink past midnight, there's a reason. When they say wear loose and comfortable clothing, there's another reason. Nurses have a job to do and gosh darn it please make it as simple as possible. Thank you.
The first think they do will be to prepare you for IV sedation. They will take your Medical history. The same medical history you've given that should be memorized by now. Especially if you are going in for ketamine infusions. By the time you get to this point, you could read them your history backwards. In invisible ink. Then you will be handed a tiny little pill called
Clonodine for blood pressure. This is because ketamine can make your blood pressure rise, so Clonodine helps to regulate this. Take it. Smile. And enjoy the tiny amount of water they give you to talk it down with like liquid gold. Then, it's IV time. IV's are never all that much fun, but they do not have to be painful! The nurse will ask for your best arm. I never quite knew what they meant by this so I just hand them the one they didn't prick the day before. The nurses at my surgery center are all about making every procedure as pain free as possible, so they numb there with a tiny needle stick to numb the area for the bigger needle stick for the IV. Believe me, I know it sounds funny, but it's an awesome pay-off. They will them inject Zofran, an anti-nausea medication. This is essential for anyone who is susceptible to motion sickness. I request it every time. Also, if you have ever had a deep vein thrombosis, don't be afraid to ask for compression stockings. They may not get you a hot date, but those days are behind me now that I have a hot hubby. So I love with their lack of fashion motif.
All of your meds from here on our will be go in through your IV. The ketamine especially. So they will keep this area sterile with medical tape. Every time they inject meds into this tube, make sure they sanitize the injection tube to avoid contamination.

At this point, just before ketamine is injected, the doctor will enter the room and things get busy. As through they weren't busy before. Now it's abuzz. Because every nurse gives a brief of each of their patient to the doctor and this is when the doctor decides the amount of ketamine each patient will receive each day. Anything can happen here. Dosage can go up, or stay the same. They call it titrating. I began at around 300mg. I am on day 8 of 10 days of ketamine and am up to 600mgs. I'm so proud. But boy am I whipped. Please, please take to heart when I say - never be alone during ketamine infusions. Either during the infusions or at home after or at the hotel. Ketamine puts you on yer arse. There's no two ways about it / except for the double vision.
So from this point on, things sipped up. IV is in. Colonodine and Zofran and in. Doctor is deciding your dosage. You have begun to hydrate with a solution bag. And dang girl if you haven't gone to the bathroom, it's now or never.
Cause Versed is on its way! Once Versed goes in, you're on your way to Lala land and I don't mean Los Angeles. The Versed is important as it helps you forget the hallucinations Ketamine will give you. Trust me. Take the Versed. One day one, I got all Hunter Thompson on them and wanted to experience the K-Hole. I wanted to know what it felt like for blogging purposes. Not much credence enters the conversation when you tell the nurse you want to blog about it. But they allowed a lightened dose of the Versed. My hallucinations were extremely vivid. But the exit from what they call the K-Hole was very rocky. So once was a charm for me.
One thing to note about the Versed, is that it is very cold going into your vein. Almost a burning cold. But it doesn't last long and before you know it, your calling an xylophone a guitar. A pig a hermaphrodite. Etc.
The lights dim even more. You are about to go into the K-Hole. The nurses draw the drapes around your bed. And from here on out it's game on!
The bottom line is, there is little to fear. But setting is everything. Your experience in the Hole depends entirely on two things. Versed causes amnesia so you don't remember any hallucinations, but most importantly - more important than anything you could ever consider - is the setting you are in while you are under the effects of Ketamine. I have been in a loving environment with thoughtful nurses and a family member or dear friend at my bedside to hold my hand. The lights stay low and all of my needs are immediately cared for. Yes, even a possible catheter, are addressed promptly.
Any concerns are quelled and I could not have imagined a smoother experience than I have had at my doctor's medical facility.

So although there are many moving parts to Ketamine infusions, it doesn't mean the experience doesn't have to run smoothly.

Today I go in for day eight of ten. I will go enter the center at 6:30am, go under by 7:30. I will com-to around noon and leave for my hotel by 1:00pm. Lunch and then a nap from 2:00-6:00pm. By the time you are up to 600mg's of Ketamine, you will be on your arse until about 8:00pm. So consider 8-10pm your social hours. Yikes! But I am almost done with infusions. Then I will begin UCLA's four week pain program. A full-time program as a full-time patient in a Multi-disciplinary approach program of doctors from bio-feedback to pain psychology and physical therapy just to name a few.

It is 4:15am and sleep has lost me so now I will shower and wonder what the day will bring. One thing I know for sure, is it will bring me more of you. Your support, your friendship, and a love like I have never known. I could never make it through any of this with you. And for this I am eternally blessed.

The K-Hole

It is difficult to describe what a K-Hole is. I didn't have any idea what I was getting myself into - Until I got into a pain so deep, it is taking Ketamine to pull me back out of this hole.

Imagine your eyes are open even when they are closed. A movie screen seventy feet high and a hundred feet wide in high definition plays a montage in the space before your self. Your id. Your body does not exist. There is no connection or awareness that your limbs even exist. You are your mind. And that is all. And it is magnificent.

The mind is a powerful thing when left to fend for its life. Ketamine does just that. It slices the cord between your brain and its roots and leaves your soul to bleed a light upon a canvas solely for dreams to wake.

I have endured five days so far of Ketamine infusions - with five more to go. Each time is slightly different than the last. But so far, each infusion has brought me closer to how magnificent the mind can be.

The first day I envisioned the most exquisite batik fabrics all existing just for my eyes to see. Another day my earbuds slipped and my George Winston radio station paused. I stirred with a fright so great I startled my nurse. George Winston had fallen out of my ears. Then I imagined a world without George Winston. And for that moment I did not think life could go on. She assured me his music still did exist and placed the buds back in my ears. And all was again right in this world. Another time the movie screen had slipped away and in front of me stood the largest building I had ever seen. It was so large and real, yet wavered in its skin. This building housed the most important thing in the universe. These walls protected it from any one or thing that could possibly steal it from our grasp. There was no key or entrance as it would spoil its grandeur. Inside, was baseball. The game of life.

I am sure this coming week will bring more levity to my world already upside-down. But the K-Hole is truly an interesting place to be.

So far I am half way through. And the tremors that shook my body to its core, have simmered to a low and steady hum. A choir drifting on a wind that is headed out to sea. I feel a steadiness returning in my palms; an optimism trickling to the tips of my limbs.

One more week of Ketamine. Each day they have upped my dosage, making days so heavy they cannot be seen. I wake at six and am put into the Hole around seven or eight. I stay there until noon and crawl out by one. We return to my room and I sleep until five. Then three hours of drifting until another night time.

One more week of Ketamine. The K-Hole. The movie screen. And all I hope to be.

Pegasus

I had never heard of Ketamine before. Kettle Corn, maybe. But Ketamine is a whole different thing. It is an anesthesia used to put cattle down. This is the big leagues, where a home run could actually save your life as you ride in on a horse with wings.

So I am now a horse with wings - and a pain condition so severe that no treatment has worked - until now. I am a Pegasus with broken wings no one else could treat. So here I am with bandaged wings and a doctor who still believes I can fly. And because of my loved ones who brought me to him - I believe.

My condition was prompted by a concussion in my driveway. The electric tailgate on my car came down into my skull as I stood up - life has never been the same.

My medical chart says Quadriplegia- A partial paralysis of all four limbs. I am a full-time patient in a wheelchair - so I jokingly call myself a spinner. My husband keeps telling me to have a seat. And I giggle - because I already do. I try to see the humor in the darkness. But seeing my diagnosis in black and white, in a chart I am not supposed to see, is a bit jarring - even for a horse with wings. It puts me in a place meant for others, not me.

But back to the Ketamine, also known as "Special K". It is special because it can do things no other drug can do. It can give some people their life back, so it is essential that I believe. But even more so that I do not believe alone.

In my case, my life was magical to some. I made a living as a photographer, shooting around the world. I worked all of the time. I had the life I dreamed of. And my husband was supportive of my dream. My children watched what I did and learned that they should dream too. I had a resume with a non-profit that filled my heart. But it took a hit to the head to realize that none of the magic matters if you lose yourself in the process. And that is exactly what happened to me.

Strangers threw my covers in the trash. Articles of my success were absorbed, perhaps a few lines registered, but the rest was thrown in the trash to decompose in a landfill of swirling ink.

None of 'it' matters. The hoopla. Unless the relationships made along the way are saved. And in my case, they saved my life. Besides my husband and family, It is the friendships that have quelled my fear and launched this portion of my healing. They are the ones who brought me to the dance, and have held my hand to raise me up. And because of this, my challenge has meaning. It is ripe with bursting fruit - with nectar dripping and a vine so strong it wraps around my heart - connecting us so strongly there are no words to describe how essential reality can be in healing a broken wing.

There are few secrets to success in life except for one- Relationships. Real relationships. The kind that thrive off of themselves ; When tending to them never seems like work. It's the friendship that doesn't keep track of who bought what when. Or who introduced who to whom. It is relationships that will make your world revolve and protect you from the scorching sun. Friendships that matter will sooth your skin with a moonlight so soft it will make your eyes water with its grace. I know this to be true, because when my success went away - When there was nothing left but a scrapbook of what I had seen - All that was left were my family and friends. Sure, I had magazine covers and articles. But they would only warm if burned in a fire for the chill of night. It is the relationships that have lasted through the years that hold me tall. Even though I can no longer walk. For now.

Ketamine infusions are not for sissies. Nor are they for those who are alone. They are so powerful. So biting to the bone. The one thing that will get you through is the promise of a hand to hold when the world around you fades to black.

But there are miracles in ketamine. I have just finished Week One of infusions, and for the first time in two years, I can hold my loved ones' hands without a tremor shaking within my core. As of last night, when I peeked out from a haze so thick I thought the world had drowned in fog, I felt a calm in my arms and legs that could only be quelled by God. For two years, my heart has vibrated as my nervous system was torched by an trauma that would not go away. Until I discovered a doctor who only sees the "worst of the worst" in a land where Pegasus ache to play.

I am smack in the middle of trying to fly again. For now, I am only hoping to survive next week's round of infusions. Scuffing my hooves in virgin soil. Praying that God will hold me up while I try to spread my broken wings. But for the very first time, I see a hope that was not there before. All because of the support and grace of friends and those who I may never meet face to face. But they believed in a stranger. And so we meet in grace.

I believe in what I can be. In a horse that should not be able to fly, but now may do just that. And it is because of friends that I will rise each day and get through infusions that would slay an elk. Because I have wings only friendships can see. And this is why I will not give up. This is why I will believe.

Bedside Bride

The leftover aroma of wedding clung to her nurse's uniform. A veil of bridal bliss curled within her locks. Pearled earrings daintily dabbed her lobes as her ring reflected the ceilings - as white as white can be.
She was just barely a bride, thrust back into this world of agony-a place we call Ketamine Alley. It's where the worst of pain patients receive infusions for four hours a day, five days a week for two weeks. I was in Bed number One.

Her cheeks were flush with a honeymoon m so fresh they flushed her cheeks to a radiant peach.

I watched her dangled curls sweep across my chart. Her name was Catherine. A regal name that fit her well. I could see her eating salmon at her rehearsal dinner; Savoring tiny bites to accommodate her elegant frame.

But that was then. As it usually is. A then that slowly passes with time, taking us to a place we ache to reach.

My husband and I have weathered fourteen beautiful years. Ok, twelve that were beautiful. Two that we might exchange fora smoother ride. But our life alone we would not change at all.

I had a premonition a couple of years ago that something might change in my health. Something larger than a bouquet to toss to a friend. Something longer than a three course meal or a five layered cake. Although my girlfriend did give me succulents. If you ever have a friend in need of a pick-me-up, give them succulents in a small pot and a ribbon tied with a note. It will make her smile with gratitude, humor and glee. They need very little care, and have the personalities of Despicable Me's if they were plants.

My friends have been diamonds. The newly-wedded nurse is a reminder to myself that life is still new to some.

I will watch her as she gracefully shifts from bedside to bedside. An angel among us. A reminder that God is good. That we are all blessed in our own little ways. Today she will remind me once again that no matter what we endure, life does go on. People fall in love and get married. Babies are born - and others gently pass to make room in the handicapped spaces for those like me.

Now it is my goal to survive with a grace worthy of this opportunity. To see the light behind the veil. The wisp of hair clung to the pearl upon an ear. And hear the music played by God when an angel makes room above for more. And I will breathe and thank him for this precious day. When a bride walks by my bed each day.

When Ketamine Dreams Go Bad

Ketamine hallucinations and dreaming.

It is 2:30am and have googling eyes that rattle in their plastic bulbs.

I cannot shake the night-visions that have so captured me tonight. I was warned they might join me in my slumber. The nightmares and hallucinations will not leave me alone. Like a nagging child pulling on my awareness plotting to be seen.

I close my eyes again. In my dream, I am living in that same house with haggard walls. But now, this home it is a skeleton of wreckage. Sagging walls and carpets slip by as I trudge for traction through the halls. Every stairway leads to nowhere. Every step as I walk in master bedroom implodes within itself like an Alabama soy bean field. The window drapes to the outside can no longer be drawn. They are too tired for such things. So everything I do can be seen; Even as raw and naked as I am. There are no clothes thick enough to cover all that I am. I was almost not allowed in this place that was my home because of this. The only way I am allowed to enter is if I pay for a lottery ticket to win it back. I must win this house back. But I do not want it as it is. It is broken and the rooms make no sense. You enter where the kitchen is. There is no living room. Only places for me to be alone. If I win the house back I must remodel every ounce of it's being as termites have ridden it of its former stability and subtle beauties. It will be up to me to draw and design how it will work for me. For Don. For our family. It is a much smaller home. Because small makes sense. I think how much easier life would be if life were smaller too. More tidy. If only reaching for things was so easy. But in my dream it is possible, but I sweat at the thought of work need for suck a job. The wreckage scares me.
But I sense a magnificence in the bones of this house. I now sense that dreams do not need to be large to be magnificent.
I will try to go back to sleep. More dreams will stir. As will my mind as to how life-altering these magnificent moments of ketamine hangover clarity can be. Goodnight sweet world. For now. For now, I must go build a home.

Breaking Bad & Special K

I could not get away. Every time I stepped back into the living room a plant had grown up from beneath the carpet. A sign that they were there. The others. The people who lived under my world and had had taken over my existence. Or were they people at all? I could not tell as they had no eyes. In my dream, I went to sleep, only to be wakened to signs they were closer to absorbing me in whole. Welcome to ketamine nightmares, otherwise known as Special K. All had been blissful until tonight. It is 11:30pm. Lou woke me from this haunted sleep. Evidently, I had voiced a fear so deep I could not reach the surface of my dream alone. Her gently pat on my cheeks drew me back to a reality welcomed in the still darkness of night.

I have documented the first two days and night rather easily. The hallucinations tamed in comparison. Tonight was a hedge hammer to what had been so far. Was it the chocolate before bedtime? Whatever it was, was akin to nightmares as a child. The doctor had given me clonazapam, to help me relax prior to going to bed; specifically to ward off the above or such visions of Bryan Cranston wielding a meth lab in your garage and taking your family hostage.

To top it off, my daughter's dog spent the night and had diarrhea in the bathroom. At least it was in the bathroom. Good dog. That's the one good thing about not walking. Your best friend can pick up the diarrhea while you're tripping out on ketamine dreams in the other room.
Speaking of diarrhea...
Chocolate. That's the other thing I cannot get enough of. The infusions have awakened a love for chocolate unlike any food fetish I've ever had. Which could explain the dog diarrhea. Chocolate. Bad dog.
Tomorrow is Day Three of infusions. I will relay to my doctor the nightmares that began with a stalker who slowly took over my mind and kidnapped me to the land of Breaking Bad. And the sudden engorgement of Walt and the Chocolate Factory. And we will begin all over again.
So far, I do not feel much change in pain levels, but we still have a long way to go and I am ready to hit this puppy head on. Like a dog with a baseball bat hitting a home run infused with "Special K". Leaving a slightly sullied spot. That hopefully no one but myself might see, or smell. I'm ready to conquer another day and break it into the most memorable of whatever it is supposed to be. So at some point, I might just be able to run those bases all by myself and hear a cheering of a crowd meant only for me, and my doctor, and some strange guy named Walt with a lighter by my side just waiting to take me to a place where breaking bad is oh such a wonderful place to be.

My Skin

I meditate on the opening sentence of every blog. The world stops and the mind steps in to play on a canvas that is bland. As white and clear as the glow of death. So I ponder my life and end up in a place about my softer skin.
It came from a time in my life when the world was still new. A simpler time, even though being younger was at times so very hard. The difference is, we didn't know how hard it was. To me the world was new. New was a scent, a touch, a feel. It turned bedtime into daytime. The process of readying for a night on the town began at ten at night. God forbid you hit the clubs before the moon arced in the sky.
It was a time of shoulder pads and teased bangs. Banana Clips and red lips that teased the night. Being wanted was enough. Then our gaggle of girls would crash at one another's apartment. It was Sex And The City without the sex. We woke with nightclub clinging to our hair. The sweet stench of cigarets grasped the skin beneath my nose, the ache of nicotine inside my throat. Smoking was an attempt to discover who we could possibly be. I stood in high heels in front of a mirror and felt like a fraud. My hands still looked so young. I must hide my hands, I thought, for looking too young. Too soft.
Magical things happen when your skin is soft. You get invited to parties at midnight and enter homes with rooms that suck you in to a life too large for you. Men with stubbled cheeks whisk you inside. And for that moment you are everything he wishes you to be. Which is so much less than who you are.
Soft skin is the mask that blinds us to who we are. When eyeshadow smoothes instead of crinkles on the lid. We tried to hide our beauty with paint. We endured heels we walked in like a horse. Skirts inched high above our knees with a cave that beckoned wild animals in the night. We were so young.

God knew what he was doing when he chipped the mask away. I used to miss the mask. But now I know it was never even real. The skin beneath broke through revealing what is real. The real that doesn't reveal until we've lived long enough to earn its skin. A skin that fits so perfectly there is no need to hide it with heels. Or paint. Our lips speak words that do not trip on the cheeks of stubbled men - but instead implant within their minds and shaken who they are. Our lips speak words that can shake a country to its core. Our thoughts are heard instead of lost in a sea of thumping walls and rooms too large to care.

I am a woman now. It took forty-three years, but it was worth the wait. Even if now my legs are wheels. My hair is shortened to a pixie cut. I no longer need long hair to frame a face I do not know. Because its lines have so very much to say. I have finally earned the right to be seen at midnight under a moon that has arced the sky. But I opt to save it for myself. I no longer need the night. So I save it for the day. For comfortable clothes that speak my skin. The softness reflecting my mood. For holding my children when they come home from school. I save my skin for my husband's hands that remember only how I feel. For them I shed my softened skin. I am woman. Hear me live. I shed my softened skin.

http://goo.gl/hy6Tsl

The Ketamine Effect

I was going to blog about my Go Pro Hero 3 camera. Then I opened the little instruction booklet. With its tiny pages. And its itty-bitty words and realized I am getting old. Anything with words that small can only be meant for the eyes of an embryo. A very hip embryo - with a riding helmet and a dirt bike. So no, I can't teach you how to use this camera, but I can tell you why I have it. I hope to start recording my itty-bitty world in my teeny-tiny chair. If I could just keep my tush from expanding, we'll be golden.

On September 30th, I will enter ketamine infusions at UCLA with entertaining side effects. Which is why it is known as Special K.

Right now I am experiencing a most unpleasant side effect of a different medication - weight gain. Ten pounds in one week. Side effects. When ankles turn into cankles. And nags turn into hags. It's commercials that tell you everything about the drug, except what condition it is for. When you have to guess its purpose by what the actors do. Which always makes me wonder about the Viagra commercials. They never seem to get to the bedroom. No wonder their pills are blue.

Ketamine is a drug used in human and veterinary anesthesia. This should fine tune my horse imitation to a T. Or a K.

Besides CRPS, I have FUNS. A Forked Up Nervous System. The pathways from my brain to my muscles is a hornets' nest. The ketamine will hopefully break the connections from my brain to my voluntary muscles, allowing my nervous system to 1) rest and 2) reset. Then after two weeks of this procedure on a daily basis, we will begin the four week program at UCLA that puts my body to work in an intensive full time job of doctors' appointments and healing. This pain program is a multi-disciplinary approach that attacks every issue head-on. A brain therapist to rewire the signals from my brain to my muscles through intensive exercises with brain waves. A pain psychologist approaches the emotional aspect of dealing with pain not just for me but my family as well. A physical therapist will be retraining my limbs and discover what mobility might. be regained. I will have a soft-tissue specialist who will re-work my ligament connections that have become static due to immobility. Massage techniques to bring life back to muscles that at this moment simply want to be left to die. And finally, my pain management doctor will captain the ship.

Ketamine has a wide range of effects in humans, including analgesia, anesthesia, hallucinations, elevated blood pressure, and induces a state referred to as "dissociative anesthesia". All I really know is Charlie Sheen would love this stuff. I shall from here on out refer to it as Tiger Blood.

Essentially, for four hours a day, five days a week, for two weeks, I will be hooked, lined and sinkered to a stream of semi-consciousness. The world as I know it will cease to exist, except for the part that's stuck into my arm. Everyone will be super nice and the walls soft as a bunny's fur. If I were to write a novel, it might begin something like this:

Dew clung to the field of clovers beneath her feet. Clara forgot her shoes as fairies often do. Her mother had sewn a pocket with silken thread into a pelt on her hip to hold the things she would need on her daily jaunt. Lipgloss being the most important item for a girl of twelve.

Life was simple in a rather complicated way since she earned her wings that day - when the heavens fell upon the earth. Clara would never forget the way it felt when the skies fell down. Her backpack falling off her shoulder to the ground. Lunch pail slipping from her fingertips. And the voice from somewhere new thrusting into her heart. Her world as she knew it ended that day. But it ended for everyone else so it wasn't as bad as one might think upon the telling of this tale.

Day turned into night, turned into day. And everything was new. The dew. The clovered fields. Where every wish came true. Except for one.

She heard her sisters' voices echo across the pines, peppered by her brother's baritone bass. They always chimed in tandem in this world where siblings never fell apart.

Everyone in Grandum had a wish that came true. And one that did not. It was this one wish that made life worth living since the heavens met the earth that day.

A tap fell upon Clara's shoulder ditching a space within her golden locks of hair. James knew little about patience. A frantic whisper crept from his lips into her ear. Mom wanted her home. It was late. Her wish would have to wait.

---

Then I will be startled awake by the nurse who will gently remove the pacifier lollipop from my mouth. My father will choke on his interrupted snore and we will return to our hotel to recover from my day at the UCLA spa-pital. I may not ever learn how to use my Go Pro. But I will never forget how to do the one thing that has saved my life. Writing. I will blog about green eggs and ham and how I sat there Sam I am. Harmony will be my rhythm of choice. And my connection with you will be my lifeline. Just as blogging has been these last two years. My oxygen. The light that reached down to me when all I could see was darkness; pulling me above it all. And that is one side effect I will embrace with every ounce of my being. Ketamine and all.

Medication

Possible side effects:

Abdominal or stomach pain and tenderness
black, tarry stools
blistering, peeling, or loosening of the skin
blood in the urine
bloody nose
bloody stools
blurred or loss of vision
body aches or pain
burning, crawling, itching, numbness, prickling, "pins and needles", or tingling feelings
chest pain or discomfort
confusion about identity, place, and time
congestion
constipation
cough
cracks in the skin
crying
decreased awareness or responsiveness
decreased urine output
depersonalization
diarrhea
difficulty with breathing or swallowing
difficulty with swallowing
dilated neck veins
disturbed color perception
dizziness, faintness, or lightheadedness when getting up suddenly from a lying or sitting position
double vision
dryness or soreness of the throat
dysphoria
euphoria
extreme fatigue
fast, pounding, slow, or irregular heartbeat
fever and chills
general feeling of discomfort, illness, or weakness
hair loss
halos around lights
headaches
heavier menstrual periods
hives
hoarseness
irregular breathing
itching
lightheadedness, dizziness, or fainting
loss of heat from the body
mental depression
mimicry of speech or movements
muscle or joint pain
mutism
nausea
negativism
night blindness
noisy breathing
overbright appearance of lights
paleness or cold feeling in the fingertips and toes
paranoia
peculiar postures or movements, mannerisms, or grimacing
pinpoint red or purple spots on the skin
puffiness or swelling of the eyelids or around the eyes, face, lips, or tongue
quick to react or overreact emotionally
rapidly changing moods
rectal bleeding
red skin lesions, often with a purple center
red, irritated eyes
red, swollen skin
reddening of the skin, especially around the ears
runny nose
scaly skin
seeing, hearing, or feeling things that are not there
severe sleepiness
short-term memory loss
shortness of breath
skin irritation or rash, including rash that looks like psoriasis
skin rash
sores, ulcers, or white spots in the mouth or on the lips
sweating
swelling of the eyes, face, fingers, feet, or lower legs
swollen glands
tender, swollen glands in the neck
tightness in the chest
tingling or pain in fingers or toes when exposed to cold
trouble with swallowing
troubled breathing
tunnel vision
unusual bleeding or bruising
unusual tiredness or weakness
voice changes
vomiting
weight gain
wheezing

Think I'll nap instead.

A Letter To The Mayor of Santa Clarita, CA

Dear Mayor,

My family and I love to take walks with our dogs. but unfortunately it is hard to get to our favorite walking streets because my mom cannot get her wheelchair over the curb and cannot cross the street with us without going way out of our way to get across the road where the big pool is.

Crossing North Park Drive at the big pool is very dangerous because cars go by very fast here.

It's also a trouble for many other kids and their parents because you have to cross this street to get to the large neighborhood pool. Ever since my mom has been put in a wheelchair it is hard to find handicapped entrances so this is a problem with the door at this pool too.

Please take this into consideration and help bring awareness to the people who can put a crosswalk in at Angelica Drive and North Park Drive.

Thank you so much,

Cassidy May Bensko
Age 10