My Ear Infection and the Ten Days of Hell that Followed

Over the last week, I became the victim of an awful occurrence that happens to most of us at some point in our lives. That's right. I had an ear infection. Now, if you've never had an ear infection then allow me to produce a slow clap for you, because they are awful. It feels like the apocalypse within the narrow canal of your ear drum. Or maybe like someone trapped an Ebola victim in your sweet cave of audible beauty. And not only that, but you also feel dizzy, nauseous, and exhausted. You can't drive and can barely walk. So, basically, it's like being a baby again, except this time, you have adult responsibilities. 

But as bad as the ear infection was, the ten days that followed were worse. Ever heard the term "the side effects are sometimes worse than the ailment"?

Well, that sh*t is totally true. 

Welcome to my ten days of hell.

DAY 1:

The first side effect I noticed was dizziness and nausea. Okay, well, I was feeling that anyway what with my balance and rhythm being affected by the hungry zombies clawing at my ear drum in attempts to get to my brain. I slept most of the day and figured it would pass.

DAY 2: 

My heart started racing and I felt a tightness in my chest. I kept my airways clear and rested as much as possible. There was always the possibility that my ear infection had been throwing a party with the latest virus that could have come home with my kids from the Petri dish they call a school. 

DAY 3: 

It turns out that one of the lesser common side effects of this new antibiotic is insomnia, nightmares, hallucinations, and confusion. When I had a hard time going to sleep at the end of day 2, I assumed it was because I had slept so much before. That would have been fine. I wouldn't have minded having the extra time to catch up on chores while the kids were asleep. What I couldn't handle, though, was the cycle of nightmares, insomnia, confusion, and hallucinations that I found myself trapped in. At three o'clock in the morning, I was sure I was dying. By five, I was convinced that I had never existed at all. That I was just a string of disjointed thoughts and feelings felt by someone else. That I was the dream of someone else who had probably taken the same round of antibiotics. 

Then came the depression and anxiety. I had hour long bouts of crying between activities. Everything seemed to be going wrong, and I was sure it was all my fault.

DAY 4: 

The depression was weighing heavy on me. Although, it could have been situational. We had been fixing up he house and running into problems at every turn. Not to mention, I had been unable to focus enough to write, which any writer will tell you is enough to incite depressive moods and erratic behaviors. I made decisions I was not in my right mind to make. By the end of the day, I was in a full blown panic attack. Ear infection was gone, but we all know that the first thing a doctor will tell you is to finish your antibiotics. How could something that was designed to make me feel better make me feel so much worse? 

DAY 5: 

I'm sure that by now you are asking yourself why I didn't discontinue the meds and call my doctor. Well, the answer is both simple and complicated. First, my doctor works only part time. This hardly seemed like the appropriate time to switch physicians to someone who did not know my medical history. Second, thanks to our new high deductible medical insurance (if you can call it insurance at all), it would have cost me a couple hundred dollars to see the doctor and switch the meds. Besides, a new medication would come with a whole new round of side effects. And finally, there was day 5. Ah, the fifth day. I got 5 hours of sleep, had been able to clock in some writing time, and woke feeling like I was a new person. It was a good day. 

DAY 6: 

I had never felt so awful in my life. I felt like I had run three marathons with no training and caught the flu through the last finish line. I couldn't sleep well enough to take away the aches and pains, and ibuprofen is said to have adverse reactions with this prescription. Every muscle in my body hurt. If I bent over, I couldn't get back up without crying. Imagine your bones going through a wood chipper. That's what it felt like. All. Day. Long. Then, finally, it was time to go to sleep. If only I could stop drinking water long enough to fall asleep. If I had been out in the desert for two days with no water, I still wouldn't have been as thirsty as I was then.

DAY 7:

Still wasn't sleeping. Realized that I was waking up at 2 o'clock every morning with a Justin Bieber song stuck in my head. I started to wonder if Justin Bieber teamed up with the pharmaceutical company to entice users of this antibiotic to buy his album. Well, joke's on you, Dr. Mario, I'm not buying. 

My heart was still pounding.

Anxiety so bad that I felt like I was sitting on a live wire. 

Suddenly, people were calling me to ask if I was still going to do things that they claimed I had agreed to, but I couldn't remember. 

DAY 8: 

I took control and decided to throw out the rest of my pills. Bring on the ear infection, baby. I would rather have atomic bombs going off in my ear than deal with any nasty side effects.

There are some huge arguments going on in my state legislature right now about giving whole plant access for medicinal and recreational purposes. We've heard that we are dooming ourselves if we allow the psychoactive ingredients to remain in medical marijuana. They say that it would be dangerous for people to have access to the whole plant legally. Well, I've had a lot of time to think about this, and this is my response: 

A doctor prescribed me an antibiotic that gave me hallucinations, depression, anxiety, nightmares, insomnia, headaches, stiff muscles and joints, and confusion. This antibiotic was approved by the FDA and passed every pharmaceutical board. Then I was advised to finish all of said medication. Sure there was a message to call my doctor if I was suffering some of the more dangerous side effects, but the medication had me so whacked out I wasn't sure what I was experiencing. I am a working mother of four children. My son has a disability that requires him to depend on me to survive. The last thing I need is to get something worse than my original ailment because of the prescription medication provided to me. Why should we have to deal with such awful side effects? Medical marijuana is passing every trial and study out there as I write this blog post. Maybe it's time we give it a chance.

They call marijuana a gateway drug, but what about our pharmaceutical system? You take an antibiotic and you have to go on anxiety and depression medications so you can control thoughts of suicide. Then those medications cause high blood pressure and diabetes. So now you are on medication for that, but those have their own side effects that need to be treated. Where does it end? 

We deserve better. We deserve medical care without dangerous side effects. We deserve the choice of organic over chemical for our own bodies. 

We deserve to be in control. 

Christmas for the Special Needs Mom

Any parent of a severely disabled child will tell you that Christmas is a huge pain in the ass. Don't get me wrong; we love showering our kids with presents. What parent doesn't? But finding the right kind of presents can be a nightmare. My son, for example, loves superheroes. They are like Pokemon to him in that he wants to collect them all. Problem is, he has very little control of his arms. That means his action figures remain inactive all year long unless I help him play with them. And sadly, I am about as good with sound effects and play fighting as I am at keeping up this blog. 

So, every year, I go out in search of the perfect gift for him. I have a list of all the things it has to be. First, it has to be awesome. Second, it has to have sound effects since my sound effect board is broken. Third, it has to do something. He is 14! He wants action and speed, and he wants to control it. I don't mean that he wants to hit a switch and watch a frog dance; he wants to control what it does when he wants it to do it. 

Where oh where is the Nintendo Power Glove when I need it?

Each year, I find a toy to get excited about. Then I sell an organ to afford it (not really). Come Christmas Eve, I am so excited for him to see it and play with it that I look like a squirrel that mistook catnip for delicious pastries. I bounce up and down squealing at higher pitches than a recorder in the hands of a two year-old. Then, Christmas morning, he opens that coveted gift that Mom was so excited about. 

It runs; it jumps; it dances! All you have to do is touch this tiny little button on the remote. Which he can't do.

This happens every time.  

Well, except one. My best friend bought him Bigfoot. That thing has a remote with HUGE buttons, and he still loves it. 

But he also loves dinosaurs. 

We bought him Crusher (the interactive dinosaur) one year. While it does respond on command, the commands have to be spoken. My son is non-verbal. 

The struggle is real, folks. 

Why cant we just have amazing toys that don't cost a million dollars and can be used by any child who has limited motor function, and doesn't say "ages 2-4," huh? 

Christmas shopping sucks.

*This blog post has been brought to you by the number 7 and the time I cleaned my son's room and found all of his unopened toys from last year.*

Daily Writing Challenge, Day 2

The First Book I Ever Read (That I Remember)...

Okay, so I added that last part. Because the truth is that I have no idea what the first book I ever read was. It may surprise you to hear that I was quite the little reader in elementary school. I even won a microscope for reading the most pages back in second grade. Sadly, the microscope didn't last long, but my love for reading remains. This was back during the time of Reading Rainbow when my little brothers were so small that we all had to read to them. I probably read thousands of pages before finding the book that made me love reading. 

That's why I can only share the first book I remember reading, which was The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett. I remember devouring this book over and over again throughout my childhood, yet I don't remember a single thing that happened in it. I should probably go back and re-read it today to see what enchanted me so much about that story. Anyway, that was the book that got me into reading. I would sit outside in the patio swing and read every word as if it were the last word ever written. 

What's the first book you remember reading? 

'Tis The Season... For Nanowrimo.

In the spirit of Nanowrimo, I have committed to do two things. For one, I am going to meet the 50,000 word goal, and all of those words will be going to the Sentinel Series. The best part about that is that I only have about that many words left on Blood and Water. Good news, right? The other thing is that I have accepted the challenge to do a writing prompt for my blog every day. If you have suggestions about what you would like me to write about, feel free to email me at cjethingtonbooks@gmail.com and I will see what i can do. 

Until then, let's get started, shall we? 

#1. What Made Me Start Writing.

If you've read my author bio, you have seen that I claim to have been making up stories since before I could write. This is all true, though I'm surprised I remember it. 

When I was four, I used to make my mom create homework assignments for me so that I could sit at the table and do my "work" while my older sisters were doing their's. Normally, it would be math problems and coloring. This was back when I liked math. In other words, a time before my alphabet and my numbers joined together to confuse me. 

Anyway, one day, my older sister was talking with my mother about a creative writing assignment she had to do for school. I wasn't sure what she was talking about, but it sure sounded like fun. So, like any other little sister would do, I eavesdropped. 

My sister broke into an elaborate story about a little girl with an imaginary friend. Even now, I can remember the way the imaginary friend's red hair flew around her head like flames. She had green eyes and would cause mischief everywhere she went. This was back before we ever saw Drop Dead Fred, by the way. I imagined the types of mischief the red-headed girl would cause. And later on, I wished that I had an imaginary friend of my own. 

In case you were wondering, I have many now, but never had one when I was younger. 

Over the years, I must have written a story about a little red-headed imaginary friend at least twenty times and in every medium and genre possible. Eventually, that character spawned many others and she faded into the background. 

Before anyone feels the need to point out that this was plagiarism, let me say this:

A little while ago, I asked my older sister if she remembered that story and if she had been annoyed by me copying it throughout our childhood. She said she had no idea what I was talking about. That actually made me feel a lot better. 

That same sister (let's call her Wendy because, well, that's her name), inspired me more than she will ever know with my writing. She not only gave me the little red-headed imaginary friend, but she instilled a love of fairy tales within me. At one point, I even decided to write fan fiction of her favorite show when it ended. It was awful and she never saw it, but it was exceptionally good practice. 

An open letter to the boys who made fun of my son for being in a wheelchair.

Dear Boys, 

My daughter is in your class. When you went to the library today, she was with you. She watched you stop and look at the picture of her older brother that hangs on the wall in the front hall of your school. She saw you point at his picture, heard you remark about how he was in a wheelchair, then laugh. She saw all of this and couldn't say anything to you because her heart hurt too much. 

Yes, her brother is in a wheelchair. He also has a feeding tube, which gives him his nutrients. And no, he can't verbalize how much it hurt him to see his sister so upset over someone making fun of him. I doubt you are the first to laugh at my son and his special needs, and unfortunately, you probably won't be the last.

But that doesn't make it okay. 

Since you think this is such a funny situation, I thought I would share some other "funny" things for you to enjoy. 

My son was born the same way you were. He might have even had the same doctor deliver him. Odds are, you were born in the same hospital. But when my son was born, a huge mistake was made that left him with an intense injury to his brain. He could have walked, talked, and beat you at hockey, but someone wasn't paying as much attention as they should have been. So when he should have been taking his first breath, he was getting his first round of CPR. When he should have been receiving his first bath, he was receiving injections to put him to sleep to stop the seizures. And when he should have been coming home, he had to live in the hospital, hooked up to monitors and machines that kept him alive. 

Not funny enough for you? 

Let's talk about his connection with his sister then. My daughter loves her brother more than anything in this world. She helps take care of him and has spent nights crying while he went in for surgery after surgery, afraid that there might come a time when he wouldn't come home.  I have seen them communicate silently and watched her understand everything he couldn't say. I have also seen her stand by with sheer panic on her face as he had a major seizure that lasted 4.5 minutes. I have had to take her with us to the emergency room when he had to have his tube replaced or had to get antibiotics for pneumonia because a child like you didn't understand what going to school sick could do to someone like him. When she visited the hospital during his last surgery, she took his hand and told him that everything was going to be okay and that she would take care of him when he got home. And then she did. When he woke up in pain, she sat next to him until he could sleep. Have you ever loved someone so much that the thought of losing them terrified you? That is my daughter with her brother. That's the same boy you saw in that picture and laughed at because he was different than you.

But is he really? 

I bet you would be surprised to know that he likes movies and sports. He likes video games and superheroes. He has a collection of Ninja Turtles that would blow you away. He loves lots of things that I bet you love, too. 

He also loves making new friends and making people smile. 

The boy you laughed at because he couldn't walk and had to sit in a wheelchair would take you up on a race any day of the week. He would tell you jokes and play games with you. But all you chose to see is his chair. 

Well, I'm grateful for that chair because it is his legs. I am grateful for his feeding tube because it's the reason why he is so healthy. And most of all, I am grateful that he took his first breath, because it almost didn't come. My son, the boy you made fun of, holds no grudges against you and only wants you to be happy and accepting. 

And one day, I hope you learn to see past the things that make someone different and start to see how they are the same. Otherwise, you will miss out on knowing someone as amazing as my son and you will lose someone as sweet and caring as my daughter as a friend.

 

Sincerely, 

A mom of a superhero

Oil and Vinegar Release Date

So, I admit, I've been slacking lately. It seems everyone I know had a birthday these last two months, including the people who actually have birthdays in January through March. Don't ask me how that works, but apparently it does. Anyway, I've been so caught up that I forgot to mention the release date of Oil and Vinegar...

Which is today! Yay!

To commemorate this momentous occasion, the eBook for Cinnamon and Salt is on sale through the kindle store at http://amzn.com/B00V1105RU for 99 cents until next week. I just love you guys that much. If you guys don't have Cinnamon and Salt yet, now's your chance to take advantage of good deals. And who doesn't love good deals?

Throughout the week, I will be posting teasers and other announcements on my facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/cjethington. Look for giveaways over the next little while because I'm sure we will host a few of those, too.

Also, Cinnamon and Salt will be featured in The Books Machine newsletter on Wednesday (9/16). The Books Machine announces great deals on amazing books. You have to check it out. Like, now. Seriously. http://www.thebooksmachine.com

Well, catch you guys on the flip side.

Oh, wait! I almost forgot. The links to where you can get Oil and Vinegar are:


PAPERBACK:

http://amzn.com/0990702626
https://www.createspace.com/5661971.

EBOOK:
http://www.amazon.com/Oil-Vinegar-Sentinels-Book-2-ebook/dp/B015BWS9W2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1442243679&sr=1-1&keywords=oil%20and%20vinegar%20sentinels


When I have all the others, I will share those, too. Thanks for always being so awesome.

--C.j .Ethington

These are a few of my favorite things...

How about a fun, uplifting, positive blog post today? I think it's long overdue. 

First, let me say that this is not an inspirational post. Nope, not at all. In fact, you could continue right past this post without any side effects. Well, except that crazy demon flu you might contract, but that's not this post's fault. Something you may not know about demon flu is that 1 in 5 people get it in their lifetime. It's true! Look it up. You might already have it. I recommend reading about it on the very credible source cjethingtonwiki.com. That bitch knows everything. 

Okay, so that site doesn't really exist, but it totally should. 

Anyway...

On to the actual post.

A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS: 

RAIN- I've been looking forward to a rain storm for the past few weeks. Today, it finally hit. Now my back porch is wonderfully damp with the smell of cedar emanating off my deck. It smells clean and natural. Not at all like the smoky smell we've had for the past week. 

WRITING GAMES- I've played writing games since I was a little girl. My first game ever was to redesign the way I saw things. I would describe an object as I saw it then I would eliminate every adjective and adverb I already used and describe it again. In high school, we played a game called "Victim or Villain." I would ask each of my friends which they wanted to be then write them into a story that way. I love my friends for mixing it up and not always choosing to be the villain. Some of them even got to be the hero, though I never gave them that option. A couple years ago, my brother and I started a game where he would challenge me with a word. That word had to appear in the next paragraph of whatever I was writing. He is immortalized in every book I write through this game. 

FAMILY- I have the greatest family ever. It's better not to argue with me. Unless your brother is Iron Man, your sister is Jennifer Lawrence, or you're married to Jensen Ackles, there's no point in arguing because you'll lose. 

COFFEE- Without you, I am nothing. 

MY WRITING TEAM- I have some of most amazing people on my team. They put their own lives aside and spend countless hours in my scary little brain just so I can create my stories. I should probably start a GoFundMe campaign to pay for their therapy. They never complain, though. Instead, they ask me what's next and make sure I have proper medical care when I bang my head against the wall in frustration. They are the reason most of my manuscripts haven't been reduced to ash or tiny shreds of paper. 

Finally, MY GRAPHIC DESIGNER- He puts countless hours into each and every image and cover. Meanwhile, he balances his full time job, his kids, and his crazy wife (me). Just look at the beautiful cover of Oil and Vinegar below. Enough said. 

What are a few of your favorite things?