Most Unlikely FUN Date Night -OR- How The Nighthawks Won Me, Too

So, if you know me, you know that I'm no football junkie.  I'm barely a football fan at all, frankly.  I support "our Huskers" because my dad loved them growing up so it's kind of automatic; and my husband and his family love them, too, so I spend time yearly submerged in Husker Nation.  But we don't get out and SEE games in person much.  We're a "watch it on TV" set of fans, mostly.

In fact, I've only been to two live football games (other than high school and midget games, and really, those don't count) ever in my life, both Husker games: one as a kid with my mom and siblings, and it was SO fracking cold that I can't even tell you who they played, if we won, or any other pertinent information; and the other with Greg, 12 years ago, and I think "we" clobbered "them" thoroughly enough that Greg and I left before the 4th quarter to beat the traffic.  Frankly, I was impressed almost-not-at-all BOTH times. 

Greg always said I just didn't get it when it came to watching football live in the stadium.  He was right, I didn't get it. I can take it or leave it at home on my own couch, so the idea of trekking long distances to sit on a hard seat, surrounded by potentially offensive strangers, for hours on end, to maybe watch "my" team get clobbered, lacked appeal. 

So I told you all of that to tell you this:  for his birthday, I bought Greg season tickets to see our newly-formed Omaha Nighthawks (one of the new teams who are part of the UFL) play some ball, live and in person.  No stadium football here, this is regular outdoor pro football.  And these guys are former- and just-barely-missed-out-on-NFL players.  Guys like Ahman Green, Jeff Garcia, Jay Moore.  Four home games will be played at the famous-and-soon-to-be-demolished Johnny Rosenblatt Stadium, home to my much-unbeloved-CWS.  (OK, and so now that I've been there, I like Rosenblatt a lot, but I still loathe the CWS.)

For the sake of a date with my husband, and out of curiousity, I wanted to go to one game.  And I sure as heck was not going to go to the COLD ones...so I wanted to go to the first game.  Greg was happy to oblige. (I think.  He didn't argue, anyway.)

So last night was the big night.  Our incredible friends the R family took our kids for us, despite the ridiculously busy week or three they have going on at their house, and we LOVE them for that.  I left them there at 3:30 and ran home to fetch my hubby, my Nighthawks shirt and my camera.  By 4:30, we were getting off the interstate and heading down 13th Street.  The entire area was already abuzz with pre-game activity, with tailgating and special events for those of us who'd bought season tickets.  Concerts, food, beer garden, bounce houses (Shhhh, don't tell our kids), and cheap programs and free game posters, and all of that before we even went through the gate.  There was an electricity that seemed unlikely for a team who had never played a game together as of  yet, and it was clear early on that our fellow Nighthawks fans are the kinds of fans that only Nebraska can produce. 

The gates opened and we filed in, excited to find our seats, to see the field (converted from a baseball field to a football field in a few shorts week) and get settled in.  We quickly found that A) with a little help from my friends, I'm not too bad at picking season tickets, and that B) there really are no bad seats for football in Rosenblatt.  By the time we sat down, we had about 90 minutes until game time.  We spent it visiting, posting pics on Facebook and texting them to friends, and with about 40 minutes left to wait, I spotted two fellow 'Hawks fans eating a fabulously yummy and unhealthy plate of something I knew I had to have.  We found out it was a "Fritos Pie"...and since we had 35 minutes 'til kick-off, we had plenty of time to go get one, right?

WOW.  As we walked back up into the concourse, we saw how we would spend those 35 minutes.  Now, the concourse which had dozens of people milling around in it when we arrived, held THOUSANDS.  Belly-to-back, the hallways were packed, 12 - 15 people across, as far as the eye could see.  We'd heard it was sold out, and this showed us that it was NO silly rumor. 

We got back to our seats just as we heard them announcing "our" Nighthawks, and while I admit I was swept up in the moment, I still didn't know if I could "get it".  We'd already been sitting/standing for two hours, and the game was just starting!

And so it did. 

And then I got it. 

Roaring fans, all dressed in black and silver, came to our feet and cheered for the Nighthawks, who took on Hartford, met the challenge they brought head-on, and in the end, handed them a loss in the final seconds.  A victory for this new team, and a victory for this history-making UFL crowd, who were like old souls cheering for a team they'd loved for years.  The sea of black and silver was almost as moving (and it's strange for me to say that, trust me) as the sea of red that all Huskers understand and love.  I have never enjoyed three hours in an uncomfortable seat, surrounded by (a few) rowdy drunk people, eating junk food and screaming my head off, more.

I think the the Nighthawks and the UFL are in Omaha for the foreseeable future.  And believe it or not, I think that's a good thing.

GO Nighthawks!

September Blew By!

It's practically over, isn't it?  Seems impossible.  So, a quick update, and then onto business.

#1)  Still have side pain.  Still don't know why.  Have had cameras stuck into places that were never meant to have cameras stuck into them.  I am, in all official medical capacites, "normal".  (Save my hiatus hernia and my gastritis which is being biopsied for H.Pylori.  Good stuff.)  Still hurt, but I'm normal.  Dandy.  I'm now considering hypnosis to learn to ignore pain, since it's apparently just random nerve pain that cannot be diagnosed or cured.

#2)  Still in therapy with the BEST. THERAPIST. EVER. Seeing a chiro, he makes me smile with his magic hands. (Minds out of the gutters, please.  The man is entirely professional and is doing me worlds of good.)

3)  Jackson waffles between loving and hating preschool, and still goes anyway. 

4)  Samantha loves first grade, but hates getting up.

5)  Greg is tired and probably depressed and feeling overwhelmed, and that sucks.  On the up side, however, he has season tickets to see our new Omaha Nighthawks play.  (Line forms here to be Greg's new bestie to get in on a game.)

6)  Did my first craft show selling cake truffles, had very positive feedback, lots of "oohs" and "ahs" and lots of calling-card-taking.  And a few sales, so that's nice, too.  Other craft shows coming up, I am considering them.  This one was a real bitch because I'd never done one before, so I had to build displays, figure out everything.  Now that my feet are wet, I'm pondering diving back in a few more times.

7)  I pinched a nerve in my back while detailing the inside of my vehicle this morning.  I am trying to ignore it.

8)  I have been a lousy blogger (and a fairly lousy housekeeper, as well, by the way, but that's another story) and need to get back on here more often.

9)  I am likely starting a blog entirely devoted to my cake truffles.  It will be separate from this one.  If I want folks to buy cake truffles, I probably shouldn't show them what a potty mouth I am. 

10)  To you who still read and still check in despite this blogging dryspell, thank you. 

I'm Tired

Of what, you ask?  Oh, well, let me break it down for you. 


I am tired of, in no particular order:*

Waiting around to have the latest uncomfortable/invasive/gross test done.

Test results that are all "normal" despite having lived the most abnormal summer of my 37 years.

My side hurting.

My stomach hurting.

Anxiety leaving, showing no signs of coming back, until the very day I say I think I've left it behind; and then having the dirty bitch come back again.

Irregular cycles.

My hair falling out like it has someplace better to be.

Nobody on my "medical team" giving a shit that my hair is falling out at age 37. 

Making my husband worry about me, and money, and what's coming next.

Being the reason that my kids' prayers include things like "Please, God, help Mommy to feel better RIGHT NOW."

Opening hospital bills.

Not having money to pay said hospital bills.

Sleeping on a heating pad.

Being told the preschool tuition assistance ("scholarship") that we don't qualify for is something I should be GLAD for, since I should also "be glad that my husband even HAS a job".

My best friend being dead.  That could stop any fucking time now.

Being tired.

Being upset.

Being in limbo.

Wondering, before I ever open my eyes in the morning, how I'm going to feel once I get out of bed. 

Thinking about, wondering about, talking about, dreaming about, and worrying about if we're doing the right tests, if I should find new/different doctors, if I should ignore and disregard the pain, how we're going to pay for anything, and what's going on inside my body at any given moment. 

We are going on four months that this has been going on, and I'm not sure how much more I can take.  I want my life back.

* I realize this is improper use of a colon.  I don't care.  I'm tired of punctuation, too.

Oh, The Times They Are A'Changin'...

...and we're ready for it here at FMFO!

Jackson just turned four. Four. Seems impossible that he has been with us for that long, and yet I can't remember our life without him. He completed our family in a way I didn't know it needed until he came to be with us. He is starting 3-days-a-week preschool this year, and while he had several weeks this summer when he calmly and dispassionately insisted he'd rather wait and go next year, he did a 180 and is now enthusiastic about RFP and the wonderful new things it holds for him this year.

Samantha started 1st Grade this week. First. Flipping. Grade. Speaking of things that seem impossible. How can she be so big? So grown-up (and she is, people, so lovely and long-legged and big-girl looking), and and yet so much still wanting to be our little girl in many ways. Her teacher is a kindred spirit, and we are excited for her to spend this year with such an inspiring woman. But first grade is all new stuff, harder stuff, more "boring" stuff, as she calls it...but she is ready, and so are we.

Greg's company has been through some major pains this year, but fortunately some of them are now growing pains. He continues to be a vital part of his department, and is a valued part of the company as a whole. Some new stuff for him as well, including him now being an HVAC Journeyman licensed in two states, which sure looks nice on a resume, if nothing else, should the need for a resume ever arise. Not that he's looking. I'm just sayin'.

For me? Oh, many changes. After having to give up the season vendor spot at the farmer's market, I found out that I can, actually, do craft shows without a licensed kitchen as well, hallelu. So I'm doing a great craft show this fall, selling cake truffles, and I can't wait to see how it goes. More on that to come.

What else? Oh, well, thanks to this mystery illness that's been going on since May, I'm several sizes smaller, and able to wear clothes I would not have been able to wear since before I was Mrs. C. That's better than seven years, folks. While it's not how I wanted to lose weight, and while there are costs for that (like losing what feels like all my hair three months later from the sudden weight change), I'll take it. I offered God a deal, more than once: I said I'd take every pound back to not have to have lived this summer of tests, therapy and pain. I'd take the weight back if he'd give me a mulligan on this summer. He didn't take me up on it, so I guess I'll settle for shopping in the "regular" department instead. And no worries, I'm still plenty plump for my taste; no chance of me blowing away. I didn't lose THAT much weight.

So, without being too wordy (ha ha), and in case you haven't heard, I have had this pain on my right side since May. A myriad of other symptoms came and went, but I still have pain in my right side, four months later. And we still don't know why. I now have pain in my true stomach as well. I've been examined, palpated, x-rayed, ultrasounded, contrast-dyed, x-rayed again via IVP, C/T scanned, blood worked, urinalysissed (word? yes, it now, I think), HIDA scanned, PAP smeared - you name it, I've had it done. I am, in every way so far, "normal". Funny word, "normal". So the only area left to test, short of a laparascopic exploratory, is GI testing. Mmm. Butt Camera, coming up, I'll bet. I see the GI specialist on Monday. Can't hardly wait.

That's a lie. I'd love to wait. I'd love to wake up tomorrow with absolutely no pain, and not need to go see the GI doctor this week. I've begged for it. No dice so far. So on to the GI testing we go.

Because while all these other changes are happening in our lives, one thing that's not changing is that I have this pain, in my mid-right side, and it won't go away. I'm not dying, we've pretty much concluded that. But just because I'm not dying because of it doesn't mean I am living like I want to be living, as long as it's still there.

So the changes we are really hoping for haven't come yet. I'd like to lose a few more pounds, get my BMI down a few more points. I'd like to start exercising, still haven't managed to do that. I'd like to figure out how to slow down my kids' growing-up. I'd like to hear a doctor say "Cathy, we figured out what's causing this, and here's how we fix it." THAT would be a very welcome change.

August Update

We camped at the zoo last night, Sam and I did, that is - with the Girl Scouts, had a fun time, but very little sleep. Ugh.

Jackson is sick, fever is broken now, but big D rages, on and cough is no fun. Greg's not feeling so hot either.

Sam starts school in two weeks. I am not looking forward to it. Jackson may or may not start after Labor Day, 3 days a week at RF.

I'm exhausted.

Oh, and still don't know what's wrong with me. IVP coming up this week. Fun stuff.

Only bright spot is that Mom is coming for a few days, bringing my nephew for a couple of them, hope to have a good time.

Except, oh...house is trashed, laundry behind, and the sick boy won't go to sleep so I can either get it done or go to bed so I can do it tomorrow.

This is NOT a chipper update. Sorry 'bout that.