Yet Another Quick Update

 Sorry for the extended absence, dear readers.

The last three weeks or so have been chaotic and exhausting here in Michigan. 

Four weeks ago or so, I used a new hand soap at work.   When I put it on my hands, my hands itched intensely.   I immediately washed it off and used another soap, then completely forgot about the incident.

A few days later, my hands erupted into the worst case of dyshidrotic eczema I ever had. 

I needed immediate medical attention and couldn't find a babysitter, so I loaded up my son and took him to a nearby urgent care clinic.   On our way there, we were hit by a gullywasher rainstorm.   My son freaked out in the backseat of the car.   Thankfully, we were near the clinic and I got him calmed down.   I got a very strong topical steroid to use on my hands. 

That night, we had a strong line of storms move through.  This caused a heavy wood door upstairs to slam shut while my son was asleep.   The Spawn went into a full-panic attack - and we lost power all at once.    We got Spawn calmed down, sent my husband down to sleep in the recliner (he's a CPAP user and without power his snoring would be epic unless he slept in a mostly upright position), and settled down with Spawn in bed with me.

This started a three-week period of Spawn being terrified of being in his room alone and slowly, slowly, slowly weaning him off of having my husband or I in the room while he fell asleep. 

The steroid cream worked - but a lot of damage had already been done.  I developed extensive blistering on my left hand that was so painful that I needed to have it drained by a doctor.   (There's a whole other story with that fiasco - but I'll tell you about that some other time.)  The doctor strongly recommended adding prednisone.   I had one night of good sleep after my hand was drained - I hadn't realized how many times a night I was waking up because my hand hurt - and then the prednisone killed sleep for me.   That was a mixed blessing; I really like and need sleep - but sleep training a preschooler with anxiety is easier when you are mostly awake all night already. 

Fun fact: prednisone makes me angry and irritable.  Mixing prednisone with working in retail was a master class in moderating speech and choosing to let other people's flaws wash over me.  It worked - coworkers had noticed I was quieter than normal - but I didn't damage any relationships by telling anyone exactly what I was thinking about their work ethic, pitch of their voice or make-up choices.

I had a week of recovering from the eczema - and all hell broke loose on the farm my husband used to be a partner in.  (That's another whole story, too.)  This caused several severe rifts within my husband's family of origin and everyone was kind of figuring out the new lay of the land.  By unspoken agreement, everyone was simply going to tiptoe around and hang out in small groups to let everyone calm down and maybe heal a bit before trying a large family gathering. 

That worked for around 10 days.  Then my mother-in-law's father died unexpectedly on Friday. 

Opa was a good, kind man and doing fairly well - but he was also 89 and refused to stop doing farm work.  He collapsed and died while hooking his brush hog up to his tractor.    I miss Opa - but he lost his wife last year and was going to need to move into assisted care before winter which he did not want to do.  He said frequently that he'd totally be ok dying farming (usually in response to anyone who told him that he needed to stop doing farm work) and that he did not want a lingering death.   I am sad for myself, our family and that my son is too young to remember his great-grandfather - but Opa has a good death and he's back with Oma so I am not sad for him.

The only awkward bit is that we're all having to play Happy Family (TM) a few months before anyone would really be ready.   Ironically, COVID is making this easier; all of the normal rituals are being simplified and pared down for safety.   We buried Opa today with only local family members present.  It was a simple, honest and loving ceremony; Opa would have liked it.

My son is sleeping in his own bed again; he's a brave little guy and has worked hard at sleeping in his bed again.   My hands are back to normal.   We'll be having a limited wake and funeral for Opa this weekend at his church. 

I promise I'll be writing again soon; I've just got some more urgent concerns this second. 

Be safe; stay healthy.