So...

Here is a selection of photos from that day we got married. http://www.flickr.com/photos/friedtoasties/sets

Sorry for the delay!

Better late than never, right?

As some of you know, Chris and I were married a few weeks ago. I truly couldn't have asked for a better wedding day. I am so grateful for all the help we got from my friends and family. My mother and sister are angels. Everything went really really really well, and I promise I will post pictures of the ceremony and reception eventually, for those of you dying to see them.

Now, the best part of getting married, as many will agree, is the honeymoon. I will spare you most of details, as Chris is posting all about it on his blog, but I will tell you that it involved a road trip in a country north of the U.S.

We put about 6,000 miles on my car.

We discovered that sleeping in a tent with no padding is not as comfortable as it used to be and that it's okay to rent a cabin.

Apparently, by transitive property, Winnie the Pooh is named after Winnipeg (he was named after a teddy bear named Winnie that was named after Winnipeg).

We ate peanut butter sandwiches every day for lunch.

We learned that Canada has its own Nebraska, called Manitoba.

We drove about as far north in Manitoba as paved roads would take us (approximately 55.75 N).

We saw two black bears, many squirrels, and – contrary to what most of our Canadian curling cohorts told us to expect – zero moose. We did, however, encounter moose tracks on one of our hikes. Not the ice-cream, disappointingly.

The fall foliage was spectacular. On more than one occasion, my brain nearly exploded. It was that good. But don't get your hopes up – my photos can't do it justice.

They're posted here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/friedtoasties/sets/

Stay tuned for the actual wedding photos…

All right. So I knit and crochet. I dig jigsaw puzzles and oatmeal. I have a crazy cat, I curl, and occasionally you might catch me watching Matlock, Golden Girls, or the Cosby Show.

I thought I was just an old lady spirit trapped inside a younger body, but apparently my body wants to be old, too. In mid-June, while I spent the days joyfully sporting argyle socks and the like, I had no idea what the veins in my very own legs had in store for me.

The story of Amber's deep vein thrombosis:

One day I discovered a slight pain in my left groin. Thought I'd pulled a muscle. Long story short: pain got much worse over the next few days until I could barely walk and my left leg was entirely swollen. Tests were conducted. Ultrasound showed that I had extensive clotting in my upper left leg and pelvic area. Was admitted to the hospital and a vascular surgeon took charge immediately.

Surgery 1 (Day 1): As clotting like this could potentially cause a stroke or heart attack if any part breaks loose and travels to the brain, heart, or lungs, they needed to get in there as soon as possible and roto-rooter as much as they could out of there. This procedure, I believe, is called catheter-directed thrombolysis. They went through the vein behind my knee with a little wire and injected some super strong clot-busting drugs into the blockage. At this point, I should mention, the vein was completely blocked/clotted from my knee to my pelvis. No blood could get out of my leg. No wonder it was swollen!

Surgery 2 (Day 2): Although they had some blood flowing by the end of the previous procedure, the next day much of the clotting was still hanging around. Turns out my iliac vein is very narrow due to compression by the artery which crosses over it- a condition the surgeon referred to as May-Thurner's Syndrome. This is likely what initiated the problem in the first place, which was probably worsened by the clotting risks involved with oral contraceptives. This time, they performed a balloon angioplasty. This was kind of neat. I was awake for all the surgeries, but I think this was the only one where I was brave enough to look at the screen. They literally push little balloons up the catheter wire (through the same location as before) and inflate them at the narrow parts of the vein. But, when they deflated, so did the vein. Apparently, the vein in some locations was about one tenth the size it should be.

Surgery 3 (Day 4): Stents. Now it was time for a different approach. The original plan was to go through the groin to place these metal, mesh, springy stents into the vein to permanently hold it open. They couldn't go through the back of the knee, because the stents were too big. But, as it turned out, they couldn't go through the groin either, because there was still too much clotting. So then what? They put a sheath in my jugular vein (that's right, they had to go through my neck, all the way down to my groin and leg- ew!), and inserted the stents in that way. This was rather painful, but I think it was more psychologically disturbing than anything else.

On day 5, I finally got out of intensive care. They removed the sheath in my neck, as well as the catheter in my you-know-where. I could finally pee into a toilet! But I still couldn't walk, exactly, so I had to call a nurse for everything. Let me tell you- there's no room for dignity when you're in a hospital.

Days 5,6,7 were devoted to recovery and trying to get my medication dosage right. In order for the stents to do their job and for the vein to heal as much as possible, I need to be on blood thinners for a year. Gooooo Coumadin! At least I'm pretty familiar with the drug, as my father has been on it for as long as I can remember.

I was finally released on Day 8 (Tuesday, June 24), with the caveat that I would need to do self injections of another anticoagulant (Lovenox, or injectable Heparin) twice a day for five days. It's amazing what a person can do when they know they have to do it. Had you asked me a month ago if I'd be able to give myself a shot I would have said no way in hell. Now, it's not such a big deal, and it's infinitely better than spending another 5 days in the hospital.

How's recovery going? Not too bad. I can't walk well yet, and I had a reaction to the dye (or "contrast") they used to see my viens for the surgeries which kept me some misery on Wednesday. But they gave me more drugs and now I'm on my way up. Yay for Vicadin!

Things to add (hopefully temporarily) to my old lady list:

Coumadin

Pill organizer

Cane

There are many blog-worthy anecdotes that could come out of this situation, but most could be construed as complaints. And, considering I'm alive and well, I'm not sure I have anything at all to complain about.

Okay, Sardinia pictures are up :)

http://www.flickr.com/photos/friedtoasties/sets/

Not big on descriptions because adding them takes too long. Oh well.

Enjoy!

So, I'm hanging out in Sardinia for a few days. 

I know no Italian aside from hello/goodbye/thank you/excuse me/do you speak English?/etc. So, for the most part, in my brief wanderings outside the hotel, I keep my mouth shut.

I never thought this new job would make an international traveler out of me, but it looks like I might be going to some random location to meet with a bunch of people from 20 other countries to talk about coal mine methane about twice a year.  Go me for being part of a worldwide effort to reduce methane emissions.

Although I dig traveling, and I don't always mind traveling alone, my main problem with this work travel is that, uh, it's work.  I can't really afford to take any vacation days during this trip (or any other potential work trips) because I need to save them up for our honeymoon in the fall.  So I don't have much time for sightseeing.  I did have a chance to walk around Cagliari today and take in some interesting scenery.  Took some photos, too (will post a link once I get home and can put them up on the computer). But now it's back to work, and preparing for a two-day coal mine methane extravaganza.

Oh, and my second biggest problem with trips like this? That social anxiety thing. Meeting people I don't know.  Having to communicate in English is scary enough for me, thank you very much.  Me in a foreign county by myself?  Terrifying.  Pat me on the back for even venturing out of my hotel room today.  Seriously.

Yay me! I ran my first official 5K last Saturday - the Cary Road Race.

While 3.1 something miles may not seem far for some, it's always a hell of a trek for me, having never really been an endurance athlete (or an athlete at all, really, after the age of 12).  My goal was just to finish, but my official time was 33:14 and there were at least 50 people behind me. Woo! Over 200 competitors ahead of me, but that's okay. Next up, a 10K in August. 

Maybe.

Hey!

We just got back from a weekend road trip in Nebraska.  Yeah, Nebraska.  It’s better than you think.  And if you’ve been there, it’s better than you remember.  If you are there, maybe you’re sick of it. Or maybe you don’t live in the right place.

See for yourself:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/friedtoasties/sets/72157604345613992/

Regardless, good times, lots of miles, and lots of open spaces.  Kansas, Colorado, South Dakota, Iowa, Wyoming, and Missouri too.  And two black cats I wish I could have taken home to Rolo.  One of these days, I’ll be a crazy cat lady.  You just wait.