The Psychology of It All

It has been just over 6 months ago that I was floxed for a second time.  I now realize that my previous symptoms were from my "mild" reaction in May of 2009.  So in reality, I have  been dealing with this now for one and a half years. After my second reaction, I remember reading the posts on all the Fluoroquinolone information pages, praying that I would have a quick recovery, that I would not have a story like all of the others.  That unfortunately did not happen, but at least I have “met” a lot of strong and courageous people who are fighting this same battle daily.
 

The psychological impact of Fluoroquinolone Toxicity, or any medical condition for that matter, is just as important as the physical aspects.  This is a difficult topic to share, but yet I feel it is very necessary.  It seems it is easier for us to share our physical ailments.  Sometimes it can be very daunting to think this could affect the rest of my life, and the fact that the damage still may not be completed can be overwhelming.  It is hard not to replay that day in my mind when Levaquin was inserted into my IV, and to think about the trauma it is doing to my body.  I get anxious when I have to drive by the facility where this happened to me.  To make matters worse, it is by Target.  Why oh why, does it have to be by TARGET!!  The constant doctor’s appointments, wars with insurance, people who don’t believe, add to this.   I now find myself scared of medicine---traditional medicine, alternative medicine, integrative medicine, you name it, and I have a fear of it.  Fortunately, my neurologist understands this and does not pressure different treatments on me.  In fact, he too is worried how my body will not respond to things now.

Some days I feel as if I am in a time warp. I feel very disconnected from myself and everyone around me, as if I am watching, but not really participating.  I am sure anyone who has gone through an illness, death in the family or any traumatic event can relate.  Usually that feeling goes away in a short while, and you eventually return to your normal way of life.  However, what if you are being reminded daily of this event, by the physical ramifications or even from the grief?  I feel like such a hypochondriac at times.  I see other people  post symptoms that they are having, and I think, “I have that!” and the thing is, I really do have that!  I feel at times I am walking around with Eeyore’s big black cloud hanging over my head.  How do you make the event that is so “large” in your mind, diminish so you can move on with your life?

I have a difficult time in doing anything by myself, some for physical reasons, and others because of the fear of what might happen. The fear of pain, in itself can be discouraging.  If I do too much, then I am left to suffer with the consequences.  I have this anxiousness, which was there before, but now it has magnified.   It is exaggerated by not knowing how to plan for tomorrow, next week, or next month because I don’t know what I will be physically capable of that day.   I get discouraged, and start to doubt my body’s ability to heal.   However, I am trying hard to push myself to get out more, to mingle and interact with others.  I find this can help take my mind off of the pain, even if it is for a short while.

My body and its capabilities are now different, so I too have to change my future plans.  However, it does not mean I have to give up. I have to learn to move on with this new life I have been given.   I am not trying to make it seem simple.  It is not, by any means.  It is a daily struggle.  Some days that struggle is more difficult than others.  On those very frequent days, I think I sound like the Queen of Hearts being demanding and barking orders to my family.  “Off with their heads!”   I have to learn that patience is my friend, for I truly think the only healing cure for any of this is time.  It is o.k. to have these feelings; it is our normal human response to any tragic event.  Nevertheless, I have decided I have to step away from the grief, not be consumed, and have a new vision, new priorities.  I have two choices with this war within myself, continue the fight or surrender.  I have decided I like the first option best. But, winning the war requires embracing the enemy and facing the psychology of it all.

Advocacy: You'll Never Walk Alone

I have been trying to figure out my purpose in all of this.  Then it dawned on me.  I have become a Medical Advocate.  I have been placed in this role several times in my life, not realizing that my life always seems to steer this way.  As an Occupational Therapist, I was an advocate for my patients. I was a therapist that always explained things in full detail to my clients, and often gave them educational material for support.  I wanted to make the transition during this difficult part of their lives as painless as I could.   It was up to me to speak for them in our weekly rounds, to make clear their medical needs.  Did they need a longer length of stay?  Was further care needed for them after discharge?  Did they need assistive devices?  I had to document my thoughts well for insurance and for the attending physician, because if their needs were not well articulated, it could affect the life of the person for which I was advocating.

I left that role when my children were younger, feeling the need to be with them during their impressionable years.  Little did I know that I would be once again thrown into the responsibility of medical advocate.  In 2006, my daughter was diagnosed with Epilepsy.  I was horrified by the diagnosis, but I think I was even more horrified by how I was told.  She had been given an EEG prior to seeing the pediatric neurologist.  It was just my daughter and myself at the appointment.  We had never met him.  The doctor arrogantly strolled in the room, never made eye contact with us, and loudly proclaimed that she had epilepsy, and her EEG was severely abnormal.    She would most likely not outgrow it, and she needed to be put on medication immediately.  Here is the prescription; you need to make another appointment.  He left the room as quickly as he had entered it.  I was dumbfounded.  I could not believe the harshness of it all.  My daughter, who was 8 at the time, did not understand his words, but she certainly could tell something was wrong by the shock on my face.  I could not believe I was not given any educational material.  Not a nurse, a social worker, or any one came to explain to me what was actually being said.   I could not believe we were being thrown into this alone.  I was a therapist with some understanding of neurological problems, and yet I still felt I needed education.

I, of course, poured myself over the computer, found wonderful support groups, and met other moms that were dealing with the same situation.  They shared their stories, which made me realize I really wasn’t alone.  My daughter went 3 years battling getting control of her seizures, mostly because the doctors would not listen and kept prescribing more and more medications that were wrong for her.  We went through 4 neurologists until we finally found one that listened.  However, we came to another road block.  We had finally found the right medication, but insurance refused to pay for it.  I fought tooth and nail to get the one medication that finally helped to be covered by insurance.    I found a well worded letter can still do the trick.   She has now been seizure free for 1 year and 7 months.   

I did not want others to have to go through what I had, with the feeling of nowhere to turn.  I took the lead from the mom’s that had shared their stories with me, so I started a carepage for her.  I was advocating for her, yet helping others along their journey too by documenting our successes and failures. 

I was beginning to think it was time for me to possibly return to work, or find a volunteer job.   However, my life once again had other plans.  I had my severe adverse reaction to Levaquin, and here I am again.  I am a medical advocate once more, this time for myself.  The hours of research, doctors appointments, bills piling up on my kitchen desk, and the insurance fights have begun.   As you can see I have again decided to document my trials and tribulations.  I want to warn others of the dangers of Fluoroquinolones, and yet help others going through this know they are not alone.  I want to share personal stories, because those were the ones that seemed to help me most with my daughter’s diagnosis.  

Not long ago I watched HBO’s Temple Grandin, about a remarkable woman’s journey through Autism.  Two scenes in particular really moved me.  One, when Temple and her mother attended an Autism conference; Temple proudly stands up and tells the audience what it is like for her to have Autism. You could see the hunger of the other parents wanting to learn from her.   She owed all of her success to her mother’s advocacy and pushes to allow Temple to fit in.  It made me feel proud as a fellow mother and advocate for a daughter.  I think I even sat up taller on the couch during that part. 

  

The second was at Temple’s college graduation.  She had overcome so many obstacles and was speaking in front of all her fellow graduates.  With the utmost confidence, Temple starts singing “You’ll Never Walk Alone”.  To me, it explains perfectly the reason why I have been a medical advocate during my career, as a mother and now for myself and others with Fluoroquinolone toxicity.  I want others to know, you’ll never walk alone.   This is why I write my blog.

You'll Never Walk Alone

When you walk through a storm

hold your head up high

And don't be afraid of the dark.

At the end of a storm is a golden sky

And the sweet silver song of a lark.

Walk on through the wind,

Walk on through the rain,

Tho' your dreams be tossed and blown.

Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart

And you'll never walk alone,

You'll never, ever walk alone.

Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart

And you'll never walk alone,

You'll never, ever walk alone.

I've Got That Floxie Feeling

Some people call it ‘brain fog’ or ‘fibro fog’.  I call it the “floxie feeling” (derived from “floxed” used by those with Fluoroquinolone Toxicity).  I have days where I literally feel drunk and feel it is unsafe to “operate heavy machinery”.  I can’t find any rhyme or reason to it.  There have been no medication changes, lack of sleep, or foods that seem to be the culprit.  On these days of feeling inebriated; I stumble when I walk, drop things incessantly, my face feels numb, and cannot have a single clear thought.  It feels as if I have been to the local bar and kicked back more than just a few.  Believe it or not this feels just as frustrating as days when my pain is unbearable.

On normal days, I already have difficulty with my memory.  I can’t think of people’s names I have known for years, word finding problems, and can’t multi-task.  I used to complain “pre-floxing” that my first child took half my brain and the second took what was left.  I THOUGHT I had memory problems.  Now I KNOW I do.  It is all on a different level now.  I do really dumb things now, like give my husband's birthday for myself when going to vote.  Luckily I was able to laugh it off when the lady said VERY loudly, “This isn’t your birthday!” in front of both strangers and friends.   

My cognition has improved tremendously from those first few months though.  At that point I could not follow a television show; unless it was one I had seen a million times, which pretty much limited me to Disney’s Hannah Montana or Wizards of Waverly Place.  Forget reading at that point.  I could not even complete a sentence, and would have to re-read the simplest statements to even begin to comprehend it.   Even though I could not read a sentence, oddly I could compose one.  Of course that was after what seemed like hundreds of rewrites and corrections.  I still can’t read complex information.  I often just throw it to my husband and say “Read this, and then tell me about it.”  My writing is still better than my comprehension.   I know somewhere along the way of my OT studies I learned the reason for this.  I know that comprehension and expression are in different areas of the brain.  I guess one was spared more than the other for me. 

'Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.'
'I think I should understand that better,' Alice said very politely, 'if I had it written down: but I can't quite follow it as you say it.

Math, oh that is something else all together.  My daughter has given up asking me for help with her math homework.   I cannot do even simple computations.  I have to rely on my twelve-year-old to get me through a game of Monopoly.  Is this the right change?  Should I buy this?  How much do they owe me with all of the utilities?  One night at my daughter’s basketball game, the coach asked me if I would collect money of those entering.  I literally felt panicked inside.  I can’t even count change anymore!  On top of that I was to remember the faces of those who had paid versus those who had not.  Not a great task for someone with no math or memory skills.  Couldn’t they have hand stamps??   I know- I will get my husband to sit with me and make sure I am doing it correctly.  The next thing I know he is asked to keep score.  Well, there goes that plan.  I somehow made it through, although it was not the easy task it should have been.  I am sure I made quite a few mistakes, and if I remember correctly, got a few confused looks.   I wish I could wear a sign around my neck for situations like this.  “Please be kind to the woman in the chair.  She lost her quick thinking skills due to Levaquin.”  It is one of those “invisible illness” misfortunes.

 

My family is starting to catch on to this “floxie feeling”.  Don’t ask Mom to drive anywhere.  Leave really big notes on the kitchen counter such as…."Mom do laundry today!"  Chime in at the doctor’s office when they want to know a birthday.  Be ready to fill in the blanks when Mom stops mid-sentence and can’t remember a word. 

For some reason when I have this really bad, I sing to myself, “You’ve Got that Floxie Feeling” to the tune of “You’ve Lost that Lovin Feeling”.  Try it, it works.

You’ve got that floxie feeling,

Oh, that floxie feeling,

And now it’s gone, gone, gone, oh oh oh.

Well, at least I was left with some sense of humor.

New Year, New You

'I could tell you my adventures — beginning from this morning,' said Alice a little timidly: 'but it's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.’

A new year has been proclaimed the start of new beginnings.   I am usually one that always jumps on this bandwagon.  I am a big organizer, I love organization, and every year this is usually a New Year’s resolution for me.  I have to get everything back in order, which somehow lost its tidiness the previous year.   This year, in my mind, it is no different; the storage room, the closets, the kitchen.  Ugh! The kitchen!  This has really lost its orderliness.  Having reduced power in my house because of my Levaquin reaction has really taken its toll on my kitchen.  I am so thankful my husband has stepped up and has helped out in this area; unloading the dishwasher, being the sous chef to my executive chef.  However, my kitchen has taken its toll.  Nothing is where it should be.  It is driving me absolutely crazy!  Believing I can do all of the normal undertakings like every year, I decide the kitchen is the first job to be tackled.  I found out quickly my typical resolution is just not going to happen this year.  Usually a thorough organization of my kitchen will take a day.  This year, our small pantry took a day.  Not because it was so terrible, our pantry is rather small, but because my body will no longer do those type of jobs.   Throwing away out-of-date food, getting my spices in alphabetical order (again), and putting everything back in its proper place completely wiped my arms out.  This was just another reminder that my endurance and strength are now quite pathetic.

This leads me to my other typical pledge for the year, getting in shape.  This has an all new meaning for me this year.  I am (or was) a regular exerciser and have been for the past 10 years.  Strength training has always been my favorite choice, but I would do just about anything to get out of aerobic activities.  As some of my close followers may know, I started having a difficult time with exercise a few months after receiving Levaquin in May, 2009.  From that point on, I was getting weaker in my workouts instead of stronger.  My workouts had gone from 1 hour 4 to 5 times a day to barely making it through a 15 min routine.   I was tired all of the time.  I, of course, never knew what the culprit was.  Even my doctor wanted me to be tested for MS.  It wasn’t until my second reaction to Levaquin in July, 2010, that the pieces were put together. My first “mild” reaction had already started causing havoc on my peripheral nerves.  I know now that was the cause of my symptoms- peripheral neuropathy.   The second “severe” reaction in July absolutely did them in.   So, this year I am starting from rock bottom.  I am determined to get my endurance up.  I have started walking on the treadmill.  I am able to walk a meager .3 miles at a big whopping 1.2 miles per hour.  I used to walk my dogs 4 miles a day in about an hour.  At this rate, it would take me 4 hours to do that now.   My legs will not move any faster.  If I attempt to walk faster, my legs feel as if I am walking through concrete and protest in pain.

I took a break from my blog for the holidays.  I had planned on returning to it much sooner than I did.  However, I have had a bad relapse of symptoms.  Problems that had gotten better or even disappeared are back.  I have read from others that this is typical.  Most report that they have a relapse after about 6 months or so.  I am holding true to that description.  It has been exactly 6 months since Levaquin was poured into my veins from that IV.  Oh, how I wish I could time travel back to that day and stop it.  It is amazing how something that took only a few seconds, has now changed my life.  As I peruse my list of symptoms, only 4 have not returned so far.   The myoclonic jerks, heart racing, decreased balance, and insomnia have improved.  In fact, I have gone from unable to sleep more than 2 hours in 24 hour period, to wanting to do nothing but sleep.  I do still occasionally have insomnia if I am in great pain, but nothing compared to the beginning.   The joint popping had completely disappeared, and now every joint pops, grinds, and groans.  I feel it the most after sleeping.  When I get out of bed, I literally feel every vertebra in my back and neck pop as do my ankles, shoulders, elbows, knees and hips.  My hips grind as if the synovial bursae is just no longer there.  The weight fluctuation has stopped, but unfortunately on the high side.  All of this inactivity has taken a toll on my weight, and I am now the heaviest I have been sans pregnancy.  So, you guessed it, another resolution to try to get this weight off the best I can. This will be difficult since I still can’t move very well.   

I am not sure what has caused the back slide.  Is it just the normal course of Fluoroquinolone toxicity?  Is it all the bad eating habits I adopted during the holidays, or simply the lack of routine?  Is it the natural course of peripheral neuropathy?   I am not sure of the answer, but I am determined to try to stick to my goal of a daily short walk on my treadmill.  I have read that activity will increase blood flow to hopefully encourage repair of the nerves.   I also know the loss of these extra 30 pounds will make it easier on my joints.  I am hoping pledging to the world these things; I will comply with these declarations. After all, as the world has professed, a New Year means a New You.  Yeah, right!

Update:  My lactic acid blood test came back normal.  I am not sure what this means for my next course of action.  I also am not sure if this will totally rule out mitochondrial dysfunction.  I am not scheduled to see my neurologist until the first of March.  I have updated my symptoms list, and also added some new links to the other pages.

Thanks for reading!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

My kids are off for the holidays starting tomorrow, so I have decided I am taking time off from my blog as well.  I will return after the New Year.    Thanks for all of the encouraging emails and messages.  You are all an inspiration to me.  So many of us are going through this battle together.  I hope everyone has a happy holiday and a pain free New Years.

Thanks for reading,

Lori

A Revisit With the Mad Hatter

Lots of news this week!  I met with the Mad Hatter again, that is my neurologist for those who are just now following.  I am not sure how he would feel if he knew I referred to him in this way.  He got this term of endearment when I met him the first time.  He is the kind of doctor that starts talking in circles; one train of thought leads him to another requiring me, as his patient, to round him back in and to the topic at hand.  It is this kind of thinking though that has me like him.  He is a doctor that loves a good mystery.  What a coincidence, so do I; therefore, it makes us a good pair.  He spent well over an hour with me as if he had nowhere else to go, discussing Levaquin and different theories of what is going on inside of my body.  He likes the fact I am actively researching information and sees this as a positive attribute, not a negative one as many doctors would.

He proceeded to tell me that I did indeed have both large and small fiber neuropathy with sensory, motor, and autonomic involvement.  What does that mean?  My peripheral nervous system is now a mess.  The good news- the large fiber nerves, those with myelin, usually repair themselves.  To what degree is unknown until it happens.  The large fiber nerves control the skeletal muscles.  I already see improvements in my right foot where my large fiber nerve (peroneal nerve) is damaged.  I can move my toes more and also have increased movement in my ankle.  I can heel walk now.  Not that heel walking is a very useful thing.  I don’t exactly go around walking on my heels, but it does show improvement.  My cane has also not been used now for the past few weeks.

The bad news- small fiber neuropathy usually does not improve, and that is what is responsible for all of the burning pain I have in my arms and legs.  I asked him about my other symptoms- numbness in my feet and hands, the constant feeling of a low voltage current running through my body, freezing feeling of hands and feet.  Yep, all related to small nerve neuropathy.  More bad news, small fiber nerves also control cardiac and smooth muscle (autonomic function).  More questions- Is that what is causing everything just feel “slow” in my body?  Is it causing the digestion problems, the no sweating, and the changes in my blood pressure, resting heart rate, and temperature control?  Yes, all small fiber.  Oh that is not good!  But, you know I felt relieved in a way.  It was all validation for what is going on.   

'Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?'
'That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.**
'I don't much care where —' said Alice.
'Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat

All of this does lead my neurologist to ask more questions.  Why are my muscles as weak as they are and fatigue so easily?  Why was my EMG abnormal?  These are signs of large fiber neuropathy, but that only shows up on the nerve conduction test in my leg.  Small fiber neuropathy, which I have everywhere else, should not cause this much weakness.  One theory of Fluoroquinolone Toxicity is that it causes mitochondrial dysfunction.  I asked him about this and it really peaked his interest.  In a VERY simplified explanation, the mitochondria are the energy source for our cells.  If they are not working correctly our cells have no energy; thereby our bodies have no energy.   They are basically little engines in each cell that are responsible for oxygenation and getting rid of the cellular waste: lactic acid, toxins, etc. When the mitochondria don't work properly, it causes pain due to lactic acid build up and exhaustion since the cell is bogged down with waste.  This could account for the muscle weakness.  He has ordered testing for this, blood work that could show if I have an increase in lactic acid in my body.   There is a lot of research going on right now about mitochondrial dysfunction.  The thinking used to be this only occurred in children, but now scientist are realizing this happens in adults as well and could be the source of many disorders. 

So we ended our hour long meeting with the understanding we will look at the mitochondrial avenue.  Then we will proceed from there.  He has already informed me to count on meeting my deductible with him next year because he has some other things he is interested in looking into if the mito theory does not pan out.  I have been so fortunate to find this doctor.   He may not find the specific changes that Levaquin has done to my body, but he is going to darn well try.  He wants to know- Did Levaquin cause one big explosion in my body and I am left dealing with the aftermath, or did it cause an explosion that has now started a progressive disorder, or one that will not allow improvement?  That is a question only time may tell.

In the news front two large things happened that could affect my family’s life.  There was a break through with stem cell research in Epilepsy and Johnson & Johnson lost their first Levaquin trial!  I have links below to those articles.  I have also posted links for Small Fiber Neuropathy and Mitochondrial Dysfunction.
Thanks for reading!
Johnson & Johnson Loses First Levaquin Trial
Stem Cell Research Holds Promise For Epileptics


Small Fiber Neuropathy--Wikipedia
Small Fiber Neuropathy--Cleveland Clinic


Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Mitochondrial Failure
Drug Toxicity and Mitochondrial Dysfunction

I will post these links on my Levaquin and Peripheral Neuropathy pages so they can be easily accessed later.

My Grown-Up Christmas List

Christmas following the aftermath of Levaquin, it definitely makes for a different holiday experience.  Instead of decking all of our halls, we have minimized our decorating.  We probably would have done even less, but the protests of our kids over ruled.  Our extent of decorating depended on their willingness to help.  My son placed the lights on the shrubs and daughter set up the half-lit reindeer.  After almost 15 years of use, I think the reindeer have seen better days.  We have convinced ourselves that from far away they look o.k.  This may be it for our 3 lighted deer.  After this Christmas, I think it is time they meet the big garbage truck in the sky.  Oh well, one less thing to set up next year.  

Our family as a whole is having a hard time getting into the Christmas Spirit this year.  I think my not having energy to do anything, has drained everyone else’s. We are finding we have to modify some of our traditions.  Christmas shopping has been different, but yet fun.  As I sat on the couch with my laptop and my husband across the room with his, we hit the Black Friday sales online.  In just a few hours, from the comfort of our home, all shopping was done in just a few clicks.  Hey, how come we haven’t always done our shopping this way?  It felt good having it all done so quickly and no crowds.  Now all of those brown Amazon packages are starting to arrive.  That was easy!

My family’s Christmas list is pretty typical of past years, but mine has changed quite a bit.  I now am asking for boring “old people” gifts.  An electric throw to help my sore muscles during this cold weather; knives with large handles so that my weaker hands can grasp them; a bleacher seat to endure sitting while watching my son wrestle and my daughter play basketball; warm shoes since my feet feel like they are in snow all of the time; and the perfect pair of socks.  Who would have thought that socks would be so difficult to find.  I feel like I did when I was a small child and complained about the seam at the toes.  The perfect pair of socks has to be soft, yet warm, not tight around the ankles, and have absolutely no seams.  This is a hard thing to find.  My husband says he has given up, and I am on my own for that one.

A few weeks ago, I was sitting in the car as my husband ran into the store for a few quick items.  I caught myself watching people walk across the parking lot, seemingly effortlessly.   I realized I was jealous.  I wish I could move that quickly.  I wish my walking was that smooth.  How I envy the world without pain, being able to do the things you do, not having to care about the pain you are feeling or the pain you will feel afterwards.   With Peripheral Neuropathy, pain follows you everywhere.  It totally encompasses every thought, it invades every conversation.  It goes to the store, to bed, to dinner, to church, everywhere.  That is what I would want most for Christmas, to be pain free.  But while I am at it, I want the same for others in my family that suffers the same way.  My mom suffers from Parkinson’s Disease and Peripheral Neuropathy; Dad has Peripheral Neuropathy, Myasthenia Gravis, heart disease and Diabetes.  My sister recently had bypass surgery and has many other unknown medical complications.  In a nutshell, my family is a mess and I am convinced would be an interesting scientific study.  Why so much rare diseases or adverse reactions in one family?

My mother recently joined Facebook, and I saw this as a post from her as prayer request to one of my cousins.  It brought me to tears. (I have removed names to protect the innocent)

You know, my first thought is for healing, but most times I think we really know that God doesn't mean for us all to be healed. I think I would ask ...that we keep God uppermost in our hearts and that He would grant us the courage and strength to live with the burdens that are ours. For (T), if I could, I would ask relief from the constant and brutal pain he endures...I would ask for at least some periods of ease from the pain. I would also ask for strength in his legs so that he may have the ability to move about in our home with more ease. And I would ask for me, increased strength to get through the day so that I might be a better helper to (T). And when you pray, please include (LB) and (LM)—(LB) is not yet stable from her heart surgery and (LM) doesn't know what her outcome will be. She, too, is in constant pain and suffers incredible weakness. Oh, and please include (A) in your prayers as he prepares to go to Paris Island on Dec. 20, to begin his basic training for the Marines. We pray strength and courage for him as he begins his career in the military. Oh, and I need to be able to go to bed and sleep at night, my body aches from tiredness and yet my mind fights sleep! WOW, I really let you have it didn't I! I asked much--but I know from Him much is given. Love you, M.

Yep, that pretty much sums it up Mom.  That is my grown up Christmas list!