Tag Archive | family

The Mommy “Angel”….

To the mommy who didn’t sleep tonite cuz she was up with a sick baby, I noticed.

To the mommy who is still wearing maternity jeans at 6 months post delivery cuz she can’t afford new ones, I noticed.

To the mommy who skipped garlic toast with dinner so her family could each have 2, I noticed.

To the mommy who buys generic deodorant so her family can eat name brand peanut butter, I noticed.

To the mommy who is still up doing laundry or dishes after 1 am, I noticed.

To the mommy who is rocking her sick baby in the steamy bathroom at 4am, I noticed.

To the mommy who hasn’t had 4 hrs of strait sleep in a year, I noticed.

To the mommy who is scraping whatever that weird gunk is between the stove & counter, I noticed.

To the mommy who goes around spraying Lysol on all surfaces multiple times per day, I noticed.

To the mommy cleaning poo/pee off the potty numerous times per day, I noticed.

To the mommy who has said her thousandth “protection” prayer for her children, I noticed.

To the mommy who has compared herself yet once again to the latest celebrity moms body, I noticed.

To the mommy who has read the same bedtime story for the hundredth time, I noticed.

To the mommy who has layed on the floor holding her childs hand so he/she could  sleep, I noticed.

To the mommy who has spent hours helping her child with their science project, I noticed.

To the mommy who has stayed up all night worrying about a sick child, I noticed.

To the mommy who has worried herself sick during her childs first overnight stay, I noticed.

To the mommy who has repeated “stranger danger” to her children several times, I noticed.

To the mommy who has felt ugly at the end of the day, I noticed.

To the mommy who doesn’t feel valued, I noticed.

To the mommy who loves her family more than herself, I noticed.

To the mommy who cuts coupons, makes lists, and juggles the bills, I noticed.

To the mommy who hasn’t felt sexy since she was 3 months pregnant, I noticed.

To the mommy who tries to make each holiday and birthday special, I noticed.

To the mommy who cooks a meal or two each and everyday, hearing the words “eww”, I noticed.

To the mommy who does her families laundry each week, I noticed.

To the mommy who changes the bedclothes each week…whether they looked dirty or not, I noticed.

To the mommy who struggles thru the evening child bath with smiles and tickles, I noticed.

To the mommy who scrapes yet another egg crusted skillet, I noticed.

To the mommy who sat alone in the middle of the night feeling inadequate, I noticed.

To the mommy who rocked her colicky baby while crying herself, I noticed.

To the mommy who 2nd guessed herself on every child rearing decision, I noticed.

To the mommy who cut ravioli into equal portions for her children, I noticed.

To the mommy who tried to explain Jesus, Santa, or the Easter Bunny, I noticed.

To the mommy caring for children, grandchildren and parents/grandparents, I noticed.

To the mommy scrubbing baseboards/nooks & crannies, I noticed.

To the mommy singing the ABC’s one more time, I noticed.

To the mommy hugging her child & kissing their boo boo, I noticed.

To the mommy wiping the ickiest body substances for the 10th time that day, I noticed.

To the mommy who goes without a new winter coat so her children can have new, I noticed.

To the mommy who skips her prescription this month so her child can have his, I noticed.

To the mommy who fears she is making many mistakes, I noticed.

To the mommy who checks her sleeping babies breaths, I noticed.

To the mommy who sneaks cauliflower into the mashed potatoes, I noticed.

To the mommy who makes her childs lunch everyday, I noticed.

To the mommy who tucks their child in each and every night, I noticed.

To the mommy who scares away the “bad monsters” everynite, I noticed.

To the mommy who has braced herself for the after school “listen to my story first” onslaught, I noticed.

To the mommy who has had to read a thousand stories outloud to her child, I noticed.

To the mommy who skipped her shower today so her children could have a hot bath, I noticed.

To the mommy who skipped a cookie so her child could have two, I noticed.

To the mommy who felt inadequate when compared to another mommy, I noticed.

To the mommy who felt second best when compared to a “work outside the home” mommy, I noticed.

To the mommy who tried to remain calm when she was scared out of her mind for her child, I noticed.

To the mommy who listened to an hour long story of a “booger picker” at school, I noticed.

To the mommy  who heard “But Tommy/Marys mom always lets them do it!” a hundred times, I noticed.

To the mommy who has heard “I hate you!”, I noticed.

To the mommy whose heart has broken during each of her childs sad times, I noticed.

To the mommy who has had to smile thru tears, I noticed.

To the mommy who has felt invisible, I noticed.

To the mommy who felt all alone, I noticed.

To the mommy who wondered if anyone noticed their home décor, I noticed.

To the mommy who has tried to freshen up after a day of spit up and diapers, I noticed.

To the mommy who has had to referee another sibling fight, I noticed.

To the mommy who has given her life for her children…I noticed.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..signed, The Mommy Angel

Betrayal

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She rolled out of the bed, shutting off the alarm. Thoughts immediately flood her mind. So many things to do today. The most important one being interviewing a young woman to fill the live in nanny position. She has been looking for a responsible nanny since her previous “super nanny” Margo, had to move to the East coast to live with her son and his family. She had been with them for 14 years, and was fabulous with her 2 children, 14 year old Sophie and 12 year old Stephen. Margo kept the house in order, made an occassional meal and helped with the kids homework when she was running late at the office.

Being a doctor is a wonderful profession, and has wonderful perks…but the hours can certainly take over your life…it certainly took over her marriage. The divorce was two years ago, but the pain still feels fresh. It was true that becoming a doctor and creating a thriving practice took up alot of her time. She worked hard to get here. Being a physician was her goal since second grade, when she had her tonsils removed. She was fascinated with her doctor and all his instruments! The blood-pressure cuff (sphygmomanometer), stethoscope, laryngoscope, otoscope and even just a simple thermometer…it all held so much wonder to her, even at the age of eight.

Her parents were strict. They were “pushers” pushing her to do this after school activity and that activity…pushing her to take AP classes…pushing her to eat right and exercise…pushing her to only socialize when necessary and only with the “appropriate” friends. So, it goes without saying, her teen years and college years, were all very academic oriented, with very few exciting events. Her life-long friend Brandy calls her whole life “Vanilla.” That pretty much explains it. Boring vanilla. But, in reality…living a vanilla life suited her. She wasn’t a risk-taker, she loves to learn, loves to read and research, loves to sit at home and cuddle on the couch with her family. Who needs sprinkles anyway?

At 5′ 1″ and 100 lbs, she is what the fashion industry has pegged as petite. Shoulder length blond hair and deep blue eyes and, as her friend Brandy says, “A complexion to kill for!” would pretty much complete her description. She was always described as a determined fighter by her mother. Sometimes more determined than was good perhaps. Once she set her mind on something, there was no stopping her.

When she first saw Scott…her determination definitely kicked in. She first laid eyes on him in the medical library of Vanderbilt teaching hospital here in Nashville. They were both in their first year of residency. He was tall, at 6’2″ he towered  over her. He had dark brown hair and big brown eyes…those eyes…they are what drew her to him. He could flirt with the best of them, she was not exactly shy, but having led her “vanilla” type lifestyle, she wasn’t a big flirt by any means. He came over to her table there in the library that day. Struck up a conversation about hematology, referencing a book she had laid out on the table about a blood-clotting disease called Antiphospholipid Syndrome. They talked for quite awhile about that particular disease and others before he paused and asked if she would like to go for coffee. She hated coffee. But…some icky flavored brown water was NOT going to keep her from continuing some conversation with this competely perfect man!

Perfect. Yea…not so much. Here she is 16 years later…the last five of which she knew Scott was having an affair. At first she couldn’t believe it. Scott would never do that to her or their family! But, the signs were there. She asked him one night after dinner, as Margo was putting the kids to bed, if he was seeing someone. He laughed at her and told her she was crazy. She dropped it, but after another call from him saying he was having another “late night” at the office, she couldn’t repress her instincts anymore. She became the woman she swore she never would. She started snooping on her husband. She would go thru his pockets, check his calendar, check his phone, but it was checking his computer that confirmed her suspicions. She clicked on a folder entitled “L” and there on the screen was a picture that caused her heart to jump right into her throat! It was Lisa. Scotts old girlfriend. She was a model, and the picture before her made that all too clear. But this was more than just beyond some “headshot” this was a fullly nude Lisa…and there were many of them. She stood staring, mouth agape. Her heart was beating so hard she could barely breathe. Her head was swimming. Why? Why does he have these photos of Lisa? They hadn’t seen each other in 15 years…or had they?

She began running the past few years in her head…was he having an affair with Lisa? Or just fantasizing…how recent are these pictures of her? Her head was spinning. Anyone but her! She had always felt insecure when it came to Lisa. She was this perfect looking woman, never had children so nothing was stretched out of shape on her! She was not the smartest woman, that’s for certain…why? She continued checking out Scotts computer for anymore evidence…THERE. There it was. Messages. Lots of them. He and Lisa have been conversing. He’s too stupid to delete his history. She read thru their messages quickly…they were having a full blown relationship. Worse…they discussed her and the children! That devastated her. To find out that Scott was with Lisa. He always said she meant nothing to him. She was just a “bimbo” he said.  He said the two years he spent with her, were the most miserable of his life…that she was vindictive and immature. But, evidently vindictive, immature bimbos were more his type. She confronted Scott with what she had found. He blamed her, blamed her long hours, said she was too boring for him….she was devastated. She went to confide what was happening to Brandy. She had trusted Brandy. But as she was explaining it all to her, Brandy dropped a bombshell. Scott was seeing many women, including her! She said it was a one time thing…but one time is all it takes in these matters, isn’t it?

She couldn’t believe that Brandy could betray her like this! She had been her best friend for as long as she could remember! How could Scott? How could Brandy? She had done so much for Brandy over the years! She had let her live with her rent free, she bought her and her daughter clothing and other items over the years, they came over every weekend to watch movies and have dinner or play boardgames…the betrayal by Brandy stung more than he one by Scott.

The anger has eaten at her since she had found out. She proceeded with the divorce and stopped communicating with Brandy. Brandy begged for her forgiveness, blamed it on alcohol and one night of weakness. The excuses weren’t gonna cut it. From either of them. During that time, she found out about so many lies. Lies by Scott, lies by Brandy. Brandy always talked so poorly of her family. She called them white trash. She claimed her mother was a drug addict/alcoholic. She said she may as well been raised by a pack of wolves. She claimed to have no-one in her life that cared about her. She made her feel so sorry for her and her baby girl. But, after finding out about all the lies, she then wondered if all those stories were also lies. She wondered what lies Brandy told her family about her?

How can people do those things to each other? She struggled with that question that past couple years. But she has decided now to make a fresh start. To not dwell on the betrayals by those closest to her. She focused on her children and her career. And she is happy. She recently met a man at work. They had been to coffee, she had developed quite a taste for it by now, and she enjoyed his company. The future was looking up.

The interview went well. She hired the new nanny. She let go of all the resentment and anger and mistrust that had accumulated over the years. But, she wonders…everytime a person is treated like she was, lied to and betrayed…how does one ever fully trust again? If the ones who profess to love you the most can treat you so badly…what can we expect from those who don’t know us at all? Or do people just have their own versions of the truth and feel they are doing nothing wrong when they lie to you? How do they live with themselves when they are scheming and making up lies? Do they have a conscience? She hopes to never have to feel that way again. She prays her children never know what it feels like to be betrayed by someone they love…but she knows that prayer will likely not get answered. It’s inevitable.

 

 

 

Again…just a flow & type story. Just practicing…thanks for reading!

Who are you?

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Have you ever had the opportunity or time to reflect on who you are? Or about who the people you think you know are? How well do we know ourselves? How well do we know others?

In my heart, if I was to describe who I was, I would say this: I’m a kind, caring, empathetic, sympathetic, honest, reliable, concerned, intelligent, organized, animal loving, book loving, information loving, family oriented homebody who is learning to live with multiple debilitating chronic illnesses that are life threatening, while trying to do anything I can to remain a decent mother, wife, daughter and granddaughter for my family. I can be short tempered when I’m having a high-pain day. I get frustrated with myself easily when I can’t do simple tasks with the ease everyone else can. I am a people pleaser and try to do things to make other people happy. I feel things rather deeply and used to think everyone did. I used to enjoy getting dressed in a cute outfit and going out once in awhile, I still love clothes and purses. I don’t have a problem with being alone, but I do feel lonely. I’m trying to find my purpose in life. I struggle everyday with feelings of being a burden to others. I worry too much. I am a bit ocd with certain aspects of cleaning or how and where things should be. I love to laugh, laughing til I cried used to be my favorite feeling and I love the color pink.  That would be my view of me, that is how I would think others would describe me…but in reality, we never know how we look to others on the outside do we? Maybe someone else might describe me something like this:

A lazy, sickly, boring, nerdy, nosey, irritating, grouchy, cranky, worry wortish, neurotic, book-wormish, opinionated, snobbish, hermit, animal freak, know-it-all, anal bitch.

I don’t know. It’s like sometimes you think you think you know someone…and then they do or say things that totally make you wonder if you ever knew them? Then you begin to question your ability to really know people? You wonder if your judgement is that off? I’ve had instances where I would have a relationship with someone, whether romantic, friendly or familial, where I felt really close and connected with someone. Felt I really, really knew them. Felt I understood our feelings for each other. Only to have things come crashing in on me. Where it felt like one big sham. The person I thought I knew, turns out to be someone I didn’t know at all. Just as I’m sure people may have had similar experiences with me.

Sometimes these instances are more of a shock than others. Some people you really feel close to, like you know them or have known them your whole life. Then when they do something or say something to you or about you that hurts you, it really wrecks you deep in your soul.

It maybe just me, but I always thought that being close friends with people, meant you were in frequent contact, dropped in for coffee, sat and watched movies together, talked about things you wouldn’t discuss with others, told secrets to, stuck up for, loved and cared about, didn’t backstab or tell lies about and felt comfortable hanging out with. But sometimes it turns out that people just want these superficial type of friendships, where everything is more of a fake, let’s pretend everything is perfect, laugh and have a good time kind of relationship. Maybe they don’t want that other type of closeness for some reason, and that’s fine, I’m just saying to me…that’s what I want in close friendships. I may not even be good at it myself, it’s just my ideal.

It’s the same for me with family. The above type of relationship, but magnified even further. With family you should always feel comfortable being yourself. You should never feel you have to watch your back with family. You should always feel you can relax around family, like you can trust each other implicitly. But not all families are like that. Some are just, again…superficial. They treat each other almost like business acquaintances…it’s all nicey nice, aren’t things great type of meaningless banter.

I’ve always felt my family was tighter than most. Closer than most. Crazier than most. Even during very hard times, we are always there for each other. We see each other at our best and at our worst. We laugh, cry and yell with and at each other. But we’re real.

Again…just my ideals and thoughts. No matter how I perceive things, these perceptions can be ripped to shreds in a blink of an eye. How would one react if everything they thought they knew was in fact, nothing more than some fake experience? That the people we thought we were closest to, didn’t think of us in the same way at all?

We all are living beside each other, everyday, having the same or similar experiences with the same places, people and things…yet we all see, feel or hear it differently. We all take things in a way that suits us best. If you want to see the best in people you will, but if you’re looking to see the worst, you definitely will.

Some people make it hard to know them. They are actors thru and thru. They will say what you want to hear at the time, they will do the same with others. They will pretend to be one person with you and another with me. They will talk badly about me to you, and talk badly about you to me. They will present themselves one way today and another way tomorrow. How do you know these people? Really know them?

Humans need close relationships. We need bonding. We need to feel loved and understood. But how can you ever feel you’re understood or known, if people are themselves determining who you are, rather than truly getting to know you?

Who am I? I’m a confused and known only to a few.

 

 

Worry…

lettinggotobefreeI am a worrier. I was born to a worrier, as was my mother and her mother. I’ve always liked the saying that worrying is like a rocking chair…it will keep you busy but get you nowhere.

I worry about my kids every minute of every day…I worry about my family, my husband, my pets, my home, myself…my mind never quits.

I worry I won’t live long enough to get my family situated…but I also worry that my existence keeps them from getting there. Somedays I beg the Lord to let me live and other days I beg him to call me home.

Serious and continuous pain screws with your mind for sure. I want to live so badly, to watch my family grow…to be here to support them and guide them…I pray constantly to be able to be a wife, mother, daughter, granddaughter…a person. Today has been a day where I dont know what to pray for.

Why does the pain have to fight to get past the 10 scale? Isn’t it enough to stay a steady 5 or 6? Why must it have moments where it rips right thru my soul? Makes me hate everything? I don’t like ME when the pain goes off the charts… I keep to myself so as not to bite anyones head off, if I can. I live in fear that all my days will be full of this increasing pain, yet I think I would prefer it to death, or would I? I’m sure the constant worry about others and myself just increases my minds perception of the pain.

Worrying is really such a wasted energy. The people you’re worrying about don’t benefit from it. The worrier doesn’t benefit from it. It won’t stop any catastrophe from occurring. So why is it such a strong urge in some people? For me, it’s out of such intense love and caring for my family. I always feel if I could worry in advance I could somehow stop something bad from happening…as insane as that is. It’s out of some crazy thought that if I worry about them, I can keep them from being hurt or disappointed or…something.

But in reality, worrying doesn’t help them and it doesn’t help me. Worry and stress can literally kill a person…lowers the immunity…drives you slowly insane. In my opinion worry is tied to intense love for the people you worry about. Also, being chronically ill gives a person more time to sit and fret over things. I guess I’m too sensitive, I feel too intensely…love and care too deep. It feeds the worry monster.

There is one worry, that just this week I’ve come to feel I can stop. I always worried about being here for my family…to raise them and guide them thru life. I no longer feel they need me here to do that. They are grown and manage okay on their own. So it’s a prayer God granted me…keeping me here long enough to get my kids grown. I am grateful for that. I wish worrying had an on/off switch. But, it doesn’t, so us worriers just have to try to focus that energy elsewhere.

I envy the laid back people in the world. The ones who don’t worry. Who just let things go as they may. Leave it all up to the universe. The old saying “Ignorance is bliss” really has to be true. The happiest people seem to be the ones who don’t worry, who have few responsibilities, who don’t try to look into the future and stop some possible calamity.

So, tonite I think I will pray for ignorance. Ignorance to all the bad things that can happen in the world or to the people I love. Until that prayer is answered, I’m afraid I will keep….Worrying….about trying NOT to worry!

I believe

Alas, another night filled with indescribable belly pain. Knock you to your knees and beg to pass out kind of pain. Pain pills barely taking the edge off, I can’t imagine what it feels like without them….I don’t have any recourse left…no doctors that I have found to date will operate until I am literally taking my last breaths due to obstruction or peritonitis. Part of the bowel is dead. I cannot eat anything other than crackers, tea, gatorade, silk vanilla milk, some babyfood and occassional toast.

I can’t keep the bowels working normally. I take stool softners three times per day. I take probiotics and digestive enzymes. I live on Gas X and Mylanta. I take Mirilax daily. Then about once or twice per month i drink a bottle of Mag Citrate…with all of this…I am lucky to have a BM once per month…and its not anything close to resembling a normal BM.

So, what to do what to do, eh? I have sent my records to doctors in NY, NJ, FL, CA, OH…and spoke with one in Germany who has helped alot of people when other docs couldn’t…none of them feel its in my best interest (or theirs) to even attempt any surgical intervention, unless I’m already dieing. Which, make no mistake, I AM indeed dieing from this…its a slow agonizing death…but coming all the same.

Oddly enough I am at this point in my head though, where if I found a doc tomorrow who said “Hell yes I can fix you!!! No problem! Lets get you scheduled asap and get you out of your misery young lady!” There is no way in hell I would believe or trust in this doctor…so, what’s the point in looking? I’m not even sure anymore. I mean, living in this agony is no walk in the park by a long shot…but atleast I’m here…breathing…watching my kids lives…a part of it all…I can accept this, I can live this way…I’m tough as nails and stubborn as a mule, but its the fear that each increase in pain, or each day without a BM or the lack of nutrition is getting me closer and closer to death. The fear is killing me.

I have met so many strong and inspirational women online. They have become my sisters in illness. I hate that there are others who are suffering like I am out there, yet I’m so thankful to have found them or to have been found by them. I feel not as alone in this fight.

I don’t know if I’m useful to anyone anymore. Somedays I’m pretty certain I am not. Somedays it feels that no matter how much I try or how much effort I put into doing what I can for others, it’s not enough…or infact is detrimental in some way.

I want to keep living. I can’t accept that this is all my life was to amount to. I’ve been fighting for life since I was a young child…right up to this very day. I’m a good person. I am a giving, caring, empathetic and nurturing person. I want to help others, to give whatever I can to people in need. My husband said the other day that if I won the lottery of billions, I would die poor because I would give it all away, and this is true!

But how can I help anyone from a bed while in the fetal position clutching a heating pad in tears? This can’t be my “purpose” can it? I keep thinking I will figure it out. I will find a way of being useful, a way to help those who would appreciate it and not take it for granted. But each day I wake up and either the pain is too great to move or I am recoving from the day before that was.

Our finances are in ruin due to medical bills. With more to come. It’s just added stress that also wreaks havok on my already totally wrecked body and precarious emotional state.

But I’m not throwing in the towel. Not yet. But I’m kinda throwin in a cotton ball…askin for a truce for a bit so I can catch my damn breath here…and plan the next fighting sequence.

As always, I believe in the power of prayer, so I will take all I can get…

 

believe

I believe in positive thinking and gratitude…and I’m doing that daily, with a few falters here and there.

I believe in laughing, loving, living, learning and listening.

I believe.

T

EVERY Life Matters:

With all the major health issues I must contend with on a daily basis, I am left with alot of time to think, read, listen, watch and learn. Also, being 44 years old (which sounds bizarro to my ears!) has allowed me a few years on this Earth to learn a few things. When I’m at my sickest, and the fear of dieing creeps into my head, I lay and think of all the things I haven’t accomplished yet that I need to. I think of things I will miss if I die. I think of the things I have done and accomplished over my life…and I usually end up feeling it’s not enough.

I feel everyone is probably here for a reason, whether big or small, we all have something we are contributing to this world. Myself, I wanted to be a part of healthcare or a teacher growing up. I managed to become a nurse, and I generally loved caring for people…and as a nurse you do get opportunities to teach others as well, so I guess I met my goals I had set. But the problem is, my nursing career was ended due to health problems after only ten years. I miss caring for others in a healthcare setting. Of course as a mother of 2, I have gotten to keep my nursing skills up a bit, and as a parent you are always teaching…so that feels good.

I’m not done with my life. I know there’s more for me to do. I have more to give. My health prevents me from doing everything I want to do now. I would love to be back nursing, or to go back to school to be trained for something else that I could do…but health and money will prevent that.  It seems all I am capable of doing now is laying in bed worrying about health and money problems.

Talking with my 92 y/o grandmother though, I think we all feel we want to have left something good of ourselves before we leave this Earth. We want to feel we mattered. She is a woman I greatly admire. She had to grow up fast since her mom died when she was only five years old, and then had to endure the abuse of a mean step mother after that. But she was a strong woman and she got away from there and came to Indiana from Missouri with a couple girl friends in her early twenties, this would’ve been in the early 1940’s. She worked the next 45 years in a factory, hard work for a woman, and all while raising 4 children on her own after leaving an abusive marriage. Then grandchildren came along for her and she helped to raise them as well…and then great grand children and she was and is still helping with them all, including me. She cannot walk as well, and not without a walker. She can’t drive anymore. She doesn’t cook or clean anymore. She sits and reads alot, and still watches her news programs and politics.

She has voiced the thought that her work here is done, she feels she cant be productive anymore or do much for anyone anymore, but I told her how wrong she was! I NEED her here. I depend on our daily talks and my weekly visits. When something, good or bad, happens…she’s the first I think of calling. She always was and is a very strong and independant woman. She was all that before it was normal to be so. Her life has mattered. She wasn’t a doctor or lawyer, she didn’t invent anything or save a life…but she raised many children, she instilled good values and morals. She taught us the importance of family and respect and love. She was and is and always will be a class act.

So, I’m hoping that in someway I am also leaving behind this type of legacy for my family. I wish I was healthier and stronger, so I could help my family more. If I could work I could help financially. I could go more places with them and be involved in more activities. But for right now, I’m going to have to be satisfied with what I can do for others…and hope that I’m teaching love, respect and strength to my children as it was taught to me. I hope that I will be deserving of their admiration someday.

Family is very important to me. My kids are the two most precious gifts I could offer this world, and I know for certain their lives matter.

We all matter to someone. We all give something. We all teach someone something. We all have to care for each other. We do what we can.

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cRAzy GiBBeriSh…

 

Just laying here after another particularly bad pain day, with the nausea and constipation thrown in for shits n giggles as a particularly funny n sassy nurse I had for my ostomy issues used to say…I loved that nurse…Sylvia…she was a wound nurse at St Joe. Sometimes that poor woman had to tend to me five times a day, my ostomy bag just wasn’t fitted right for my complicated ostomy. She tried all kinds of tricks, but mostly she kept me and Jim calm, as she taught HIM how to handle all of it. She would make me laugh…which is a bad thing while you’re gettin your bag changed…I won’t go into detail. She was a sassy one.

That’s all about that, not sure why it popped into my head…just that “shits n giggles” phrase. And trying to decide what if anything can ever be done about my messed up innards. The increasing and changing pattern of pain, the increasing depression and feeling of my life just going nowhere.

I’m 44 now. 44 should be a fun year! Kids are bigger, self sufficient, or gone. Sposed to start “jazzin” up the marriage and gettin your life back…right? Well, unfortunately for us, the “plan” is different. It’s me, still having the belly that looks eight months pregnant due to the massive hernia and the pain that keeps me from breathing from the major and complicated adhesions that have glued to my abdominal wall and all my organs, making removal extremely dangerous and life threatening.

I’ve yet to train myself to stay away from normal foods. If Jim makes spaghetti…I eat a bowl…then I know in a few hours I will be doubled over in pain crying and damning myself to hell for being weak and eating it. I don’t know how to to this. I need this new eating plan, but NO ONE has helped teach me what to do, how to cook or puree or whatever. I can’t just do Ensure shakes, it gets old. Can’t do mashed tatos daily, boring. Cream of chicken daily..nope. I need variety, texture, taste. But I need to do it and I KNOW I do.

I truly have no ambition anymore. I’m a slug. laying on the sidelines having a pitty party I guess is what some would call it. I guess there are days I might need pity. Some people have it worse, this I do know. But if I had the cancer, they told me what it was, what the fight would be, the plan, the side effects…then the remission…so done with it fot awhile..maybe for good.. If I got mrsa or gangrene in my leg, cut it off…done. With my bod its too complicated. I’m sick of that term. Yes, it’s too complicated because some moron got in there with sharpi instruments and started chopping around like a monkey let loose on a watermelon. He messed it up so bad, other doctors can’t even begin to come up with a plan to fix it.

I’m supposed to be glad I’m alive. Well I am on somedays. I WANT to be alive dammit! But I want to FEEL alive too! I want to walk, grocery shop, dance, swim, cook, hike, travel…I wanna PLAY!!! Intead, what ya have here i s a woman who can’t do most of those things, atleast not for very long. I can deal with pain…but I want to know if its gonna kill me, is it a blockage? a ichemic lack of blood? Blood clot? Gas? I’m a person who likes anwers. I wanna research what is wrong with me, to find options to fix me. I can’t just sit here waiting to die.

They don’t like smart patients…no they do not…cuz then they gotta do some explaining and answering. That makes em uncomfortable…cuz sometimes I know more than they do…hmm hmm. They don’t like that..

This piece of defective wad of chubby flesh is mine still. I’m not impressed by it. It repulses me. I don’t feel like a woman really. Kinda feel like a pregnant one. Withouts the perks. I love babies, but those days for me are over. So grand babies are who I wanna be playing with. If my blimbo bod can move a bit.

I spent the day watching a Dr Redan in Florida, and his technique for removing adhesions. He seems very thorough. But I’m not convinced he could help me. I have alot of the very thick and tenacious bands of scar tissue, they are harder to cut and quick to return, all these sepra fils they use, I think were used on me and failed, as much of everything tried on me does fail.

Go ahead, mention my negativity…bad karma…I know all of it. I’ve read more positive books/quotes/faith based living, I have tried living like a nun who loves the whole world and just wants love and positivity for all….I do prefer it to the negative side I must say, but you will get more people to talk to you when you’re in misery than with you’e happy…proven pointl. Sad eh?

I did manage to “do the deed’ tonite..this after weeks of Mirilax, Colace, Lactulose, castor oil, prune juice and suppositories…soo woo hoo! One BM a month…and it’s a miserable and painful experience…nothing normal about it. IT’S AS PAINFUL AS GIVING BIRTH TO A NETTLE BUSH.

It’s an odd spot to be in. I WANT TO LIVE! I really do…I want to be with my family. I want to watch them grow. I want to be here to help them, guide them, take silly pictures of them, throw parties for them, host holidays for them…I”M MOM! I want to be here…yet, there are times when the pain take over and I SAY THAT I WANT OUT! JUST END IT ALREADY…but I don’t mean that.

Chronic Pain can make you say and do some crazy things. I find I’m starting to leave my family “goodbye” notes in books or my journal…I look for gifts that have meaning for when I’m gone. I feel I’m racing against a death clock, but I don’t know when the time runs out. I find myself pushing my seventeen year old daughter with information about life as fast as I can…clean this way, wash this way, cook this way, send thank you cards at this time…it’s crazy.I have sooo very many health issues, but it will be the adhesions or the blood clotting disorder that gets me in the end I spose. I’m bettin on digestive…but we shall see. If I could get to a better hospital with a higher caliber of docs like Mayo…and get them to keep me there, running a battery of tests, head to toe and figure out an answer that might just help me, help my pain, turn me back into a living and functioning human being…get the whole Dr. House team involved. Please see me! I’m a person…not a chart!

The doctor the initially perforated my bowel and neglected to notice it then went to Disneyland for a few days while I went to ICU on a vent….yea, I’ve just recently started thinking perhaps he can pay for my Mayo visit. I mean he got his rather large payout for butchering me, then my bills kept rolling to around 2 million….then I have recurring bills from the pain each month, meds, pain docs, pee tests, binders…last months emergency admit to hospital for bowel block/ischemia…the bills are just rolling in…but up to the ten thousand mark and I’m about to bolt. I mean really. These bills are whacked. who could pay these? Its NOT MY DAMN FAULT that this is happening! Call Dr. Cly! He’s rich! Make him pay some of this mess! Am I gonna lose a second home to medical bills? Am I gonna lose a husband who after being a martyr and perfect husband i gonna finally snap and ay he can’t take thi anymore?

Are my kids gonna think or say that they too are tired of hearing it and seeing it each and every day? Maybe so. Am I actually ruining their lives by being here?
I’m sure they worry, thats not good for them. Life i hard enough without worrying bout your parents as your just starting out.

My parents and grandparents are all getting to that state where they need extra help, with yards, meals, cleaning….stuff I want to do…I dreamed of caring for my family. I was a geriatric nurse. But they all know how ill I am and won’t let me help them, which frustrates me.

I want to be someone. I’m at that point where I want to feel I have left something good here in the world. a good memory…was I ever a good mom? What are your memories of the kind of person I was? What did people think iof me/? i REMEMBER some women saying they thought I was snobby but really I was just shy…funny how people can perceive us then how we really are I hate that. When I hear someone describe who I am and its so off target…how does that happen? I have softened as I’ve aged I know that…But life is scary and ya do wat ya do.

All I want is a chance. A chance to be seen by fabulous team of doctors who read my whole case and care and they run many test and find something to help me! Please help me stay with my family to love them longer!

Dr. Geoff Cly…you shoved a trocar thru my intestine and failed to note it…I almot died many time after this…sixteen further repair surgeries…gangrene, flesh eating virus, ostomies, wound vacs, fistulas…it was bad. I wish we woulda videod it. It wa a horror movie.

Durring court Dr. you said you prayed for me…I’m ure you did…you prayed for your butt too I’m sure…why don’t you do the right thing and pay for my medical care??? Even some mental health care…meds? A NEW LAPTOP that has the S key that works???

You Dr. Cly live the charmed life. My family and I suffer daily. I try to be the happy faced actress and somedays I can pull it off…but they are gettin fewer and farer between. Thanks Dr. Cly. In my opinion, you killed me on Nov 4, 2005.

I guess I need an obituary.
You prick.

I have so many clothes, shoes, purses, jewelery…but what for? I rarely leave the house anymore. They are my “just in case” clothes…for the occassional out to dinner or wedding or funeral…I I guess I just learn to purree my foods and still suffer with digestion. Its the movement of the intestines, pulling the scar tissue all the way down. Lets just add the blood clotting diseae, the degenerative disk disease, the osteoarthritis, the fibro, the bad teeth, the broken foot that wont heal…yea, I’m a package of wth.

I’ve never wanted alot out of life. Just a small, healthy loving family. Wanted to take care of them. Buy them special gifts, treat them to dinners, be the fun grandma who played with the kids and babysat all the time, had alot of pets I could walk and play with, go walking, travle a little…nothin major…just like Tennesee and Colorado, Florida and California…once a year…for Jim. I want to take care of Jim, instead of him caring for me.

I hate being this useless burden. I need a purpose. I need to knwo I’ve done a good job with my kids, and I feel I haven’t…I dont know how, cuz I tried really hard to be a great mom…I wasn’t perfect, I know that. I love my kids more than life, I swear, they are my everything. I want so much for them, and now I can’t do much for them and it makes me cry. They are good kids. Very good kids. They don’t smoke, do drugs, drink…they are honest, loyal, principaled, just great home loving kids, they are close to family and I love that. I’m so proud of them both I could scream it from a rooftop how much I love them!

I can’t just move on…wish I could…the pain says hell no! the pain wakes me up. The pain stabs me out of the blue. The pain burns and feels like I’m being torn up inside. The constant nausea is awful. The huge bloating is so unvomfortable.

I am just at that point where I gotta wonder…should I make a change? Is it to contact Mayo…who I can’t afford…is it to go live homeless or with other family member? Where to go that I would be the least burden…thats a joke eh? Sheesh.

My life woulda been so very different if Dr. Cly just would’ve recognized that he jammed that trocar thru my intetin and fixed it right there…I prolly woulda been ok…went on with life, back to nursing…who knows…right now I would love to work with Hospice patient….we will see what God decides.

Thanks for reading!
God Bless!