Tag Archive | life

Content…

contentment

Driving home from the latest medical appointment today, I was contemplating how the rest of my day would go…generally the very way it does most days. I will get home, and walk thru the door to the dogs all barking their heads off, I will let them outside as I trip over the three of them walking to the door. I will unload whatever items I may have from store, then head to jump into my pajamas.

I wash my face, then straigten up the house so I can relax. Let the dogs in, prepare their dinner and serve. Then decide if my body will tolerate something more substantial then Ensure, which it usually will not, so drink my dinner then hit the sofa and turn on the computer and tv. Yep, both will be on somedays…usually a news or documentary type program on television or Netflix and just email, facebook or blog stuff on the computer. I’m doing cancer research for a family member, as well as researching my own illnesses, so I’m on the computer alot.

The dogs and cat are usually on the sofa with me, keeping my legs warm! The fireplace is flickering and heating up the room…I’m trying to learn crochet, so I may have the yarn and hooks out with the magazine and maybe a YouTube tutorial. I will usually talk to my mom and grandmother by phone at some point.

If the pain is really bad I don’t do much of anything other than lay on couch and focus on breathing gently so I don’t aggravate the issue…usually try to keep from crying, as that just makes it that much worse. As the evening goes on I get myself a cup of chamomille tea…with too much sugar and maybe a couple of Saltines. Play with the animals and brush the dogs…

Then it’s time to pick Jess up from work and she tells me about her day at work on the ride home, then we get in and she gets comfy while I empty her lunchbox. Then she gets a snack and we sit on the couch and watch something we have on the DVR, like tonight it will be American Idol…then later after Jim gets home, he and I go to bed and watch Days of Our Lives…yes, we are both hooked on it, for about two-years now I think! I personally LOVE EJ and I think Jim has a crush on Nikki (so would I if I was a guy!) lol.

After the show is over, Jim goes to sleep and I read until I am able to pass out, usually around 3am or so. Then I’m usually the first one up anymore, didn’t used to be, but am lately…get the fireplace on, fix our tea, let dogs out, then Jim gets up. Someone cooks so they can have dinner before leaving…after they go to work, I clean the house up, maybe go visit my grandparents, go to doc appointments, and maybe the store if I’m able to that day, but most days the pain keeps me pretty pinned down.

On Jessies nights off, she and I watch Gossip Girl or some Lifetime movie and chat. If I’m up to it, we might even get to go to the theatre or shop a little bit…same for Jims days off…usually as a family we go see a show or sit home watching Netflix. Sometimes the whole family gets together for dinners on Sundays or for birthdays and holidays. And now on Sundays I’ve been going to church with friends.

So, there you have it. My life in a nutshell…condensed of course, I left out mundane tasks of daily life for the most part…or is my whole life mundane? lol

But as I was driving home, thinkin bout my evening…I felt happy. Felt like I was looking forward to my routine. Since my whole life changed with these illnesses, it’s even more boring than it used to be…not that I was ever too exciting, but not being able to work, and not having young children at home anymore…leaves me with little to do. But somehow the days still speed by me and I can never figure out where the time goes!

It’s a quiet life. Yes, it’s filled with many, many extremely painful hours and lots of frustration over my whole digestive system and the medical communities inability to do much for me…but I like my life! I look forward to talking with my family members about their days at work, watching shows with them, laughing with them and joking with them…teasing each other and playing with the animals…it’s a good life for me.

Some people probably couldn’t imagine living the way that I do, day after day. The ones who are always on the go…always going somewhere, making plans for something, or working outside the home…but it’s working for me. It sounds cheesy, but every morning that I wake up, before I roll over to take my meds, I thank God for giving me another day here on Earth with my family…whether filled with pain or not, its also filled with joy…and I am CONTENT.

 

That’s pretty much my life

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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!

Am I Here?

She sat in the car. Feeling numb and sluggish. Thoughts floating in and out of her mind. How did it come to this? How had her life ended up here? She was a young girl once, with dreams and ideals. She had goals for her life. Ending up a useless, sick middle-aged nobody wasn’t one of them.

Growing up was hard. Her parents weren’t ready for such a monumental job as parenting. They were young and immature, but it’s not their fault her life went nowhere. Yes, there was the almost constant physical and emotional abuse in the house thru the years, but she had good coping skills. She was a people pleaser, always trying to do the right thing, be the “good girl”, the “good student” the “good” everything. She didn’t always succeed, but more often than not, she did.

She wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted to do family law, so she could help children from abusive homes, help women break away from controlling husbands. But as senior year came, the reality of needing either alot of money or huge scholarships, slapped her square in the face, and life happened instead.

She got married, to a controlling and abusive husband. Had three beautiful little boys, who she loved with all her heart. Not having a career, or a loving relationship, left her alot of time and energy to place all her love on those boys. They were her life. They are who she lived for.

She stood between them and her abusive husband when he wanted to instill harsh discipline. She made sure things stayed “just so” around the home to keep the peace. She made excuses for the boys when their rooms weren’t tidy or their grades weren’t stellar. She made sure to always scrape together enough money to give the boys wonderful birthdays and Christmases! Seeing them open their gifts or blow out birthday candles with the glow of pure innocent happiness…made all the bad things in life worth going thru.

The years passed, the boys grew. The older they got, the less they needed her. She still stayed the “buffer” between the kids and the rest of the cruel world. Sacrificed all she could to make sure they were happy. The oldest, Christopher, was the first to move out, at 21 he was in a serious relationship and moved in with his girlfriend. He was such a good kid growing up, much like his mother, he was a pleaser. She worried most about this one though, as he was just a tad on the “sensitive” side. He felt things deeply and and felt as though he was not the perfect person he thought everyone expected him to be. Much as she herself felt.

Her middle son left a year later, off to California to live with friends. This about ripped her heart out. The thought of not having her child within a car rides distance was almost too much to bear. But with texts, emails and Skype, she was learning to deal with this “bad” situation, much as she had to learn to deal with so many “bad” situations in her life.

At 18, her youngest Kyle was the last one at home with her. Her baby. He had become the closest to her emotionally of her children. Probably a bit more sheltered and fussed over, being the baby of the family. He seemed to really have the most empathy. He tried to look after his mom. He was the one who noticed when she started to lose weight and stay in bed somedays. He was worried about her, but he was leaving for the Army soon, his dad thought the Army would “toughen” him up. Kyle wasn’t interested in being tough, but felt he hadn’t many options but to join up.

Why get out of bed? She thought one morning around 10am…what’s the point? Would anyone even notice if she didn’t? Other than the dishes in the sink, that might be the one clue to anyone that she wasn’t around that day. What’s she going to do now? She has raised her children and now they are gone. They no longer needed her. Her husband only needed her to bring him his beer and keep his house clean.

The days dragged on and on…the only bright spots being the calls and visits from her sons. They weren’t very frequent though…they were busy with their own lives now. It hurts to feel you put all your love into these little lives, only to grow older and more alone with very little love in return. She felt fatigued more than anything really. Her whole body ached somedays, so she did the chores that couldn’t be ignored and that was it.

At Kyles insistence a year later, she saw her physician for the fatigue and weightloss. They drew blood and performed some other tests and she went back to her daily existence. A week later, she received a phone call. The doctor told her the news right on the phone,..the news wasn’t good, nope, not good at all.

Pancreatic cancer. Which equals “Death Sentence.” She was in a fog the first week after the diagnosis. Just stumbing thru her days, mostly in bed…even her uncaring husband didn’t ask anything of her. She didn’t want to tell the boys right away. She didn’t want to have to draw up the energy to console THEM.

She didn’t have much time left at all. Less than three months. How would she get everything ready in such a short time? Especially when the last month would be a mostly bedridden one? She went about making her own funeral arrangements and after a week, finally called her sons. But none of the three could seem to agree on a good day for them to come for a visit, they were all so busy, with work, relationships, vacations…she told them this was important. She needed them to come.

When they finally arrived, each grumbling about what a kink this visit was putting into their current schedules. She had worked all day on a big dinner. Glazed ham, garlic mashed potatoes, brussel sprouts, white corn, homemade biscuits and gravy. By the time the table was set, she was in so much physical pain she could barely carry the meal to the table. With tears in her eyes, she began serving.

Noone noticed that she didn’t eat, just pushed food around on her plate. The men all carried on a boisterous conversation about current affairs, politics mostly…the one topic she couldn’t stand to talk about or even listen to.  They laughed with their father, joked with him, agreed with most of his views. Have they forgotten how this man behaved toward them growing up? Don’t they recall his tirades? Do they even remember their mom having to stick up for them or keep them from being harshly punished? Do they remember her staying up with them all night when they were ill? Or staying up to help with a last minute science project? Do they recall her holding them, rocking them or consoling them during each of their youthful “crisis” of the moment?

Do they see her as a person? As a woman? As a little girl who sat in the woods, dreaming of the day she would be in a court of law, sending some abusive man off to jail for the atrocities he had his family endure? No. No, they see her as mom. Nobody amazing or special. Just someone who was there whenever they wanted her to be, but who disappeared when they didn’t need her.

She was disposable. She was invisible. She, who had always tried to so carefully “control” her little piece of life…was nobody. But, she wasn’t going to let cancer control how she would die. This she really could control.

Of course the boys all cried and expressed their grief over the fact that she was indeed going to die. She patted their backs, and hugged them and dried their tears. She assured them that she was in no pain and that although she would be leaving them, she would always be in their hearts, and would be forever watching over them from Heaven. After a week of this, they all had to get back to their lives…and she got back to her “non” life.

But now, here in the car, with soft ocean sounds coming from her cd player, the engine quietly idling, she was once again dreaming. With her eyes closed she was once again that little girl, sitting on a stump in the woods…the sun shining down thru the leaves. The trickle of the nearby creek being the music then. She dreamed of the life she thought she’d have. She was important. She was “good”. She was needed.

To that she drifted off to sleep, in a heavily medicated fog, mixed with the carbon monoxide from being in the car…in the garage…for most of the day, without ever having been missed, by anybody.

 

I WAS Here

Being forgotten is worse then not being noticed.

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!

Where am I?

 

Who snuck in at somepoint in the middle of the night and took my body? This taped together hunk a meat cannot possibly be the body that
God intended me to go thru life with? Am I being punked? Is that cute Ashton Kutcher gonna pop out and say “Noo! We have your young healthy body waiting for you in our shop! It’s been revamped and will get you thru the next 40 years without any illness or pain whatsoever!

 

I would be able to run thru the woods again! Ride a bike on the trails. Hike a bit in Tennessee. Get down on the floors with the kids and get back up without grunting like a stuck pig. I could bendover and pick up something I’ve dropped and put it where it belongs without going down and not being able to straighten up.  I could pull the sheets and heavy towels out of the washer by myself.  I could run the vacuum allover the house, without my gut dropping so far forward I can’t move. I could go to the Y and swim and walk their track…take a yoga class! OMG, that all sounds amazing! I have a friend who wants to take me to the Y as a guest…I’m gonna go. I’m gonna try water exercises…if it all works out, and I feel comfy I will start my own membership…

This body is giving up. Little by little, organ by organ, it’s just throwin in the towel…and it’s up to me to stop this giving up. I gotta keep moving or I’m gonna be bedridden…those are my choices. I’m not giving up. I’m gonna force this body to move more, even when the pain is eating me alive. I don’t have to overdo. I’m not gonna be a weekend warrior. Just some easy does it exercises. Maybe meet new people.

There’s gotta be more to life then this. If this is it…then fine. I can deal with it, but I need to know that I cant improve anymore…that I have nothing to accomplish or to offer the world. Because I believe I do. Not sure what yet…but I’m here to do something! I feel it! I have a purpose! I need to get something done.  I know I’m passionate about animals and children and reading and writing. Maybe there is something there that I can incorporate those passions into something meaningful?

I used to love volunteering, but even that became too much for this body. But I know there’s something I can do. I feel it. Now I just gotta find it.  I’m thinking I need to let new people into my world. I keep my core peeps close and rarely make new friends. Maybe I need to do that…maybe a new friend will have a fresh perspective on my situation, or a need that I can fill.

I also found a “church” type get together at a local coffee shop…its come as you are, no matter your beliefs, it’s laid back, it has changing topics that get covered during the hour long visit. The one I’m gonna check out is on stress and illness.  And I’m truly hoping I can get this body to go to the Y on a routine basis….get in that pool and help out these joints and muscles…even bouey my big ole hernia belly! Water relaxes me so much. Maybe I can even work up to walking the track, slowly of course. I’m not gonna be there to impress anyone of course…but just to help this ole body get some of its oomph back. I used to be a good runner and swimmer! I was a great softball player…had a great arm! I was competitive in gymnastics and other things. I lost all that after I turned about 18 I guess.

This pain monster has swallowed me up. I haven’t been here since November 2005. I’ve been a shell. A sad and hurting shell. Well I’m trying to come back out as me. It may take me awhile to get my bearings, but this pain…isn’t taking me down. I say “FINE pain! YOU go ahead and give it all you got!” cuz ya know what? “Ive taken your bullshit for five long years, pain that is just indescribable! The humiliation of having to push my belly against the counter or a door to blow my nose, holding in my belly if I laugh or cough, being afraid of food, not going out, worrying about dieing and yet thinking it would be easier. I’m tired of making plans in advance then having to cancel cuz the pain man won’t let me get out of bed that day. I’m tired of being in the middle of the store with a cart full of groceries and freezing because my belly hurts so bad I can’t breathe or walk…so I stand, sit if there’s a chair…but I freeze and shallow breathe til it passes somewhat then I head for the register, sweating perfusely by this time from trying to deny the fact that I’m in enough pain to pass out right there in the store on the cold hard floor.

I’m tired of smiling and saying fine to everyones “How are you today”….they don’t want to hear more…so fine is my only line.]

I’m going on 44…but in my head I’m still 29 ish. My mind feels pretty sharp most days…with the occassional fibro fog or med fog. But I know thee is something I have to give to this world…I know it. Some may find it silly, and I undertand. But I’ve gotta work thru this.The pain is here whether I’m in this bed crying or out in the mall shopping. Yes, it hurts much more…but if I give up then IT wins. I’m getting my competive spirit back…and I don’t like to lose…so go ahead Mr. Pain…get your shit ready…cuz I’m sure as hell gettin goin on my resurrection back into the world.

I will still have down days, of course. But even when I’m down…I’m gonna be thinking and planning on what I can do the moment I’m able to sit up or stand up. Maybe it’s just writing..I have a few real life journals going, as well as this blog. Having conversations with people who inspire me and have been published. Meeting new people in the cyberworld who are more like me than I would’ve ever believed! I’m certainly not alone.

So, I guess I”M RIGHT HERE! Right where I’m supposed to be. I’m doing what I’m supposed to do…with much more to come. I used to be more athletic…competitive…I can’t throw in the towel just yet. I got more to offer for this game.

REVEAL!

I shall put you all out of your misery and reveal which of my five stories were completly true.

While number 1 had some truth, the ending was all wrong.

Number 2 was all completlely correct…I picked up my cowboy in a bar. I have never lived that down. He loves to tell that story…me pickin him up…yea…its all true though…I’m not real patient…if you want me, you gotta make the move..or I sure will…haha. Fun time.

The third one has bits of truth in that we did used to go to that park and I was hyper vigiilant with my son…he got no where near that pond without being attached to me however….

The Rick Springfield has bits too…we did love him so…we were obsessed. We did travel around a bit followed his bus, touched his shoe when he was on stage…saw 15 concerts…all great…but didn’t try to take over a hotel to get to him and never saw him off stage.  We were kids…we had parents with us…lol.

Oh and the one about Dexter was a blatant lie. We rarely took walks, but he was a perfect dog. He was MY dog. Loyal to a fault. Stayed with me when i was ill, guarded us all. Always there to show me his Elvis snarl…oh yea..he had one…lovely dog he was. I love him so much. There will never be another Dex.  But he was mine for 15 years, and they were precious to me.

Thanks to all the guesses…hope I got you all emailed….or this gives the answers. Should this occurr again I will read how others are going about it and go in same style…I was a bit of a rogue on this one…but it was still fun and i enjoyed reliving some memories that I hadn’t thought of in a bit.

Thanks to anyone who takes a minute to read my ramblings…they tend to go everywhere these days…I go in spurts, no blogging, then bloggine twice a day…I also journal so alot of it goes there instead of here….I hope my family reads al this chatter after I’m gone…get to know their real mom….the loony as bats crazy woman…who had a life before…I wasn’t alway a sickie, stuck in the bed, whining about a plethora of pains, complaining about what is not getting done…nope. I was a woman. I loved life. I was strong. I was cute. I was needing love. I needed acceptance. I worried about the world, I was free to move from jobs to jobs and flounder about…until I had kids…then It settled down. It was grown up time….I did it fairly well, while still trying to keep a social life and friends, but still be the best mom I can be.

I love talking about my life…there are lots of stories and dramas that haven’t been put to paper yet….I will keep goin…rambling and out of order and context though it may be….you will eventually get to know the real ME.  See past the pain. Look at who I was and who I may have been had things turned out differently…I wonder…..every night. What coulda been?