Middle Age Moments and More...

In the arms of angels

2012-02-07T13:54:00.000-08:00

As this horrible news is unfolding of the little Powell boys, my heart is so deeply troubled, saddened, sickened, etc; there are not enough adjectives to describe how we all feel I'm sure. They were exactly Tolman and Addi's age, 7 and 5. I love Tol and Addi with more than my heart can hold. I love Jami, Jessica, Chelsea, Nils and Curtis with that same heart. And Ron. How much love can one heart hold? I often wonder how God can love me as much as He does when there are so many to love, and so many with HUGE problems. But then I see how many my mere mortal heart loves and I start to understand, just a little.

My heart is so heavy for the parents and grandparents of Susan and these angel babies. I've prayed for them and will continue to, and all the other family, friends and neighbors who knew them intimately.

I am forever grateful to my faith in the fact that they were taken in the arms of their loving angel mother, and Brother, our Savior Jesus Christ in their time of terrific horribleness. I'm sure they were not left alone. I'm sure there were angels "round about them to bare them up".

Renoir

2012-01-31T03:22:00.000-08:00

The following is from Music and the Spoken Word given last Sunday:

Have you ever seen a painting by the artist Renoir—in a museum, perhaps, or in a book of impressionist art? We marvel at the beauty he captured, the sudden burst of color in a portrait, the serenity of a French meadow scene.

But as famous as Renoir is, few people realize that he painted much of his work in excruciating pain. Renoir was so crippled with rheumatoid arthritis that he had to sleep with a wire contraption that kept his sheets from touching his body. His deformed hands had to be wrapped with gauze; otherwise his fingernails would grow into his flesh. He couldn’t even pick up a paintbrush. And yet he would sit before a canvas in his wheelchair, have someone wedge a brush between his claw-like fingers, and paint visions of joy and delight.

It’s easy to see why Renoir’s illness is not well known, because not a shred of bitterness or despair appears in his work. Renoir was the model of a cheerful attitude, saying, "The pain passes, . . . but the beauty remains,”1 and "One must from time to time attempt things that are beyond one’s capacity.”2

On rare occasions we meet someone like this—a person who is in great personal pain but somehow manages to be joyful, even vibrant. We stand in awe of such people; they refuse to focus attention on themselves but instead inspire us to rise above our own sufferings and create beauty for those around us.

The next time someone asks, "Have you ever seen a Renoir?” you might think of a beautiful painting, but you might also think of the Renoirs you know—the everyday people who teach us, by their remarkable example, how to forget our own problems and focus on what we can do to bring joy to others. (End quote)

I want to be a Renoir.... Yeah. Just think I came up with a New Year's Resolution.

Lard butt!

2012-01-25T12:51:00.000-08:00

I went to a beautiful cabin last weekend, one of those girl get-away things. There was old woman Shar with 3 other girls half my age. I love these gals! They make me feel young? but mostly they make me feel a part when I could be rather lonely. Most everyone in my neighborhood are 30 somethings.

Erica was asking me about being sick, which I really appreciated. She really wanted to know the deeper meaning than, How are you? It came up in the conversation that I have lost between 40 and 50 lbs since this whole thing started, not on purpose I might add. (I know! Can you freakin believe that!) Then she said, Didn't you used to weigh around 300? Hell no! Not even close! Did I look like I did? Erica, (While we were both laughing while a tear or two trickled down my chubby cheeks). I'm so sorry! I have no concept of weight. Me. Yeah, but 300?! Have you ever watched biggest loser?! THEN the snowmobile gets stuck.. Shar why don't you get off and walk and we'll meet you at the top. K. It was only a few feet, but the snowmobile wouldn't move till lard butt got off!

Oh no, I'm not finished yet. I get to Curtis' B ball game. One of the mom's comes up to me, I'm having this really fun party Wed night and want you to come. Are you busy? I always hate those questions. It depends on what the deal is if I'm busy or not. Just tell me up front. Sure enough, it was for some weight loss thing.

First of all, NO! I don't want to come! Why didn't you ask the fat man sitting a few rows in front of me? Or, Second of all, Don't EVVVVVERRRR ask ANYONE whose nose has some plastic tubing attached if they are interested in losing weight. There just may be a health issue involved. And with that health issue comes medicine. Lots and lots of medicine. One of those being prednisone. Take a moment to look up the side effects of this miracle drug from hell. It is quite a miracle that I have lost any weight being on that for as long as I have. And will be for the rest of my life, whatever that may be. Third, You will have a much better time selling a weight loss product if you FIRST have lost the weight you lard butt!

Geeish! I'm going to go have a cookie, or dozen.

Music is ringing inside my head

2011-12-06T08:24:00.001-08:00

Music is ringing inside my head

over and over and over again

my friend,

there's no end

to the music...

These are some of the words from a song by Carole King, I think. Loved that song! I need to go find it.. And all my piano students' pieces are ringing over and over again in my head. My recital was last night. All the kiddos were AMAZING, FANTASTIC, INCREDIBLE, FABULOUS,...you get the picture. They all had on their Sunday Christmas best. They gave me hugs. I hugged them back. I wanted to hug all the parents, incredible parents! and g-parents. The students were so proud. I was so proud. Everyone was proud. Everyone cheered, and I mean REALLY cheered for everyone else. I had just as much fun watching the parents as I did the kids. I had tears in my eyes the whole time. I couldn't believe how hard they had all worked and that all that hard worked paid BIG TIME! I love you my kiddos! Thank you for doing such a great job!

And Santa came. Who knew? He, K, I mean she, played Sleighride with me. I love that Santa. She's my first cuz and we have been the best of friends forEVER! We lined her up with one of Ron's best friends so we have been great couple friends for..well, a really long time. She lives to serve other people. Love you Krissy!

And my sweet Ron and Curtis came to support me. Really? What 17 yr old goes to their mom's piano recital? Icing on the cake, I sat at the piano and played for Curtis while he sang and sang when we got home. Perfect night if you ask me.

So, grab those CD's, crank up the stereo...keep the music playing and playing and playing.

I had my Christmas last night!

Mistletoe and holly berries

2011-12-02T12:25:00.000-08:00

Wow-ah! Time to trim the tree. Get it out first, go chop it down, go to the grocery store...where ever, how ever we get our greenery. I have bins and boxes and more bins and more boxes of holiday cheeriness. I've collected so much over the years. I've gotten rid of a lot as well, but I still have too much. And I'm too tired.

As I was trying to make my house festive today, I dang well burst into tears. How, how in the world am I going to get the energy to get it done? And do I really need to? I still have harvest holiday on my porch, but I can't see it so it's not there. So I sat down, turned up the oxy and tried to get hold of myself.

What is with me? I have this internal ideal that says everything has to be the best. I am Jean Nelson's daughter in law you know. She was the queen of Christmas. She could stay up all night cooking, decorating, whatever, and go teach her 4th grade class the next day. She LOVED Christmas everything. People ask me if I am the house with the incredible porch. I say no, that's Emily's house. And my sister in laws. And I worked at Nordstrom and OC Tanner. They REALLY knew how to deck their halls. Of course they had unlimited help and budgets but I still think I can get the same look minus the budget or the bodies. I have stolen a few ideas.

But really. We all know it doesn't matter. Christmas isn't about all the glitz and glitter and holly berries.

On the other hand, is there anything better than laying under the fake Christmas tree with the fake snow in front of the fake fire reading a great fake book (on my kindle)? I say no. So, time to get moving. Let's get this done!

Being a mom

2011-10-19T10:43:00.001-07:00

I've been looking at pictures of my kids when they were little. Tears are rolling down my cheeks. How I loved having my kiddos around me! Each picture takes me back in time. I can smell the smells. I can see the views. I can hear the sounds. I can feel the softness of their skin. I can remember what they were laughing, crying or pouting about.

These memories are etched in my mind forever. And the great thing is, is that memories are still being made everyday. New places, new sounds, new smells, new sights....and I have two little ones that are added to this great picture.

I got on my knees and thanked God for the great blessing of being a mom. I will never take that for granted. I also prayed that I will get to raise Andy someday. I hope I get to see him as a little boy.

I feel such gratitude, like my heart could explode!

There has to be pills for that

2011-09-01T11:14:00.001-07:00

I'm so angry. I feel like I could blow up into a million pieces! Maybe sad. The sweet kid that handled my return at Target got me going. How are you today, he said. Crappy! was my reply. I couldn't do the, I'm fine response. I just couldn't. Then the tears started. I'm so sorry he said. Are you OK? Are you having a hard time breathing today? Actually I have to wear this everyday. I'm sorry, he said again. I hope your day gets better. It will. Thank you.

Some people ask what's wrong with me. Most don't. Little kids stare. Adults look then take a double take. Wow. I wonder what she did to have to wear that thing? Or most don't think anything. In fact, I'll bet no one thinks anything for more than a few seconds. Look, then on to their own problems.

What's wrong with you? the guy at RC Willey's asked. How long do you have I wanted to say. Rheumatoid arthritis vasculitis raynauds syndrome esophageal reflux interstitial lung disease sjorens syndrome, oh yeah, now my heart is affected...I'm sure there's more...all under the umbrella of Mixed Connective Tissue Disease. So there you have it dude. That's what's wrong with me..

Contradictions all over the place. I'm grateful for oxygen. Mad I have to have it. And I get a handicap sticker! Wha who! Mad I qualify. Disability is a life saver. Mad I qualify. I want to run over people that are running. Sad I can't. Run that is. Grateful I can walk. Really sad my hands hurt when I play the piano or that I can't give normal high fives. Grateful I can still play and still use my hands. Mad I had to turn my Subaru in. Grateful I have transportation. Mad I run out of energy when there is so much to do. Glad I feel like doing anything. Mad I love food. Mad I wake up every morning with a back that kills because of a crappy mattress. Glad I have a bed to sleep in every night.

And mad I'm taking 17 -20 pills a day. I need some more. Don't you think, to take all this mad/sadness away? Yeah, I'm already on that one.

I heart my heart doc

2011-07-01T12:03:00.000-07:00

I went to another doc yesterday, another specialist, a cardiologist. The heart and lungs work together and because my lungs are sick, my heart is having to work extra hard. (I say my heart is working extra hard cause there is so much inside it.) Sure enough, the EKG came back abnormal so off for more specific tests next week.

I loved my heart doc. I had no idea who he was when I made the appointment. I just wanted to get in to the first available opening whoever it was. I scored! He talked to me forever. He asked me all the medical questions doctors do on first appointments but what he did next was a first. He asked me how I was doing. I was thinking that I had just spent all this time telling him. Were you not listening! No, he said, I want to know how you are handling all this. I got tears in my eyes as I thought about the answer to the question. I just want to be active and run again. I want to be able to clean my house. I want to be able to do triathlons with my kids. I want to be able to work in my garden from sun up to sundown. I want to be able to make plans and know I can follow through. I want to be able to go on dates with my sweetheart instead of always saying, I'm sorry honey. I'm just not up for a movie. I want Curtis not to see me on the couch or bed so much. I want to be able to take care of my parents and worry about them instead of the other way around. I want my beautiful grandkids to know the real me, not the oxy wearing sicko.

Don't worry. I didn't tell him this whole list but I did tell him some. He put his arm around me, (which is a first for any of my docs) and said, Well you know what the saying is don't you? No, I responded. Life is a bitch and then you die. I started laughing as the tears were running down my checks. He told me I seemed to be doing very well and that if he were in my situation, he could be written off. (He was just trying to make me feel good, which he did.)

He then asked how my husband and children were handling it. I said they were all champs. They are my hero's.

It was so very therapeutic being able to open the flood gates and let all this out and not feel judged or like an ungrateful brat. He listened, and he cared.

Yep. This doc was so great. He is taking care of my heart, both the things that can be seen on a scan and the things that can't.

Two little people

2011-04-06T17:50:00.000-07:00

Can two little people really make that much difference in a person's life? Yes. And they do. My two little people spent the last two weeks with us. Tolman and Addi, my grand kiddos. We did so many fun things together. We went to the Aquarium. We spent 3 hours there. I love being on kids time doing whatever they want to do. No hurrying them along. "Yep, we can go sit in the boat. Sure we can see the stingrays again. Let's see if the penguins are swimming yet. Of course we can look around in the gift shop but I don't know if we can buy anything. OK, you can." We went on walks up by the lake. "I think that is too far for you to walk Tolman. You might get tired." "No I won't gram. And I can push Addi the whole way too." "OK. You can try." I was thinking I would have to go again because I wouldn't be getting the exercise I wanted. WRONG! Tolman did stay with me while pushing Addi nearly the whole way! He had to give me a breather or two even. We got gelato on another walk. We played at the park. We read stories. We made up names for all the different cats in the cat book. I wish I could remember some of those names. We were laughing and laughing. We had sleep-overs in my big bed. The kids were supposed to be sleeping but we were too busy laughing and tickling backs and legs and bellies.and toes. There's plenty of time for sleep but not near enough time for laughing! Tolman read stories to me and Addi. He is such an amazing reader! Really! He's in kindergarten and reading I'm guessing on about a 4th grade level, or higher. He can sound out about any word. Yes, my grandchildren are brilliant! Addi and I talked about all things princess. Princess jewelry, dresses, shoes, make-up, fingernail polish. Addi chose some beautiful plastic Little Mermaid jewelry. The earrings would fall off with the slightest move of the head so I told her to move very, very carefully. She walked around like a statue whenever she had them on for fear of losing her very priceless jewels. We talked and talked and talked and talked. They got so many hugs and kisses and they didn't even run away from me or say "ENOUGH GRAM!" They would even hug and kiss me back. My two little best friends went back to Minnesota yesterday. The house is so empty and quiet. It makes me sad. It takes me several days to adjust to the stillness. I can't go in their rooms. Not yet. It makes me too sad. How I love Tolman and Addi Belle. I love how I am when I'm with them. They show me the magic in every day. They show me wonder in the ordinary. They teach me what true unconditional love is. They show me the pure love of Christ. It's no wonder the Savior told us to be like them.

Sometimes

2011-03-08T22:47:00.000-08:00

...I just hate being sick. The worst part for me is having NO energy! When I clean I can work for a good 15-20 minutes, then have to take a breather, literally. I have my oxy turned up as high as it can go while working and still get tuckered out. I get worn out just by being vertical. I have to do that a lot every day. Sometimes I get dizzy and exhausted even when I sit. Like today.

...I hate the pressures put on women in the perfect looking category. I drove to Logan last week to see Nils. I couldn't believe how many billboards there were on surgical procedures to get that perfect Barbie body! Not only the perfect body, but the completely flawless face that goes along with that body. Add this, take away that. Suck this, tuck that. Inject, reject....the list goes on and on. Basically, whatever you do, DON'T be happy with just the way you are!

...I feel so sad with all the heartache in the world, especially loved ones. I've recently reconnected with a dear friend of mine. She is so worried about her daughter and asked for some advice in the addiction field. I have experience you know.

...I wish I could do my life over. I'd do a better job.

...I hate that I love sugar so much. I'm even crazy enough to wish that I were as sick as I was last year. I could hardly eat. And I never ate sugary things. They made me sick. Oh yeah...I was already sick.

...I really miss my sister.

...I get so mad that I don't show more self discipline. I've had boat loads of it much of my life.

I guess I'm just like everyone else. Don't we all get sad sometimes?

Live Laugh Love

2011-02-18T13:41:00.000-08:00

I have been looking for ways to give my home (bedroom) a little face lift. I think I should plasticize the walls with some of my favorite quotes. They are all over these days. Here are some of my favorites. Which ones do you vote for?

Nothing is more than this day. (Some are just too deep for me)
A family without a grandmother is like an egg without salt.
I don't have a family tree, I have a forest. (I swear I saw this)
Families are Forever (You are not a good Mormon if that isn't hanging somewhere in your home.)
A happy family is but an earlier heaven
Live Laugh Love (as per title)
All because two people fell in love (Huh?)
A happy wife is a happy life
Love is spoken here
Dare to dream (I dare you)
Always together. Never apart. (Kill me!)
Because just being together is enough (Not even!)
1 mother + 1 daughter = best friends
Happiness is Homemade
He aint heavy, he's my brother ( I think there should be one about heavy sisters)
2 boys = brother

And the many that say: Family by blood, Cousins by blood, uncle by blood, aunt by blood, 2nd cousin by blood, Brothers....Sisters.... etc etc......friends by choice. (Lots of blood friend ones)

And then the one about bad breath, or getting the breath knocked out of you. Or just not being able to breathe. I don't know. Or counting how many breaths you take in a day. Or how many you should take in a year. I dunno.

I have tears rolling down my face as I type.

I'm having a contest for the best original quotes. On your mark, get set, GO!

So I have come up with a few of my own that you are all welcome to plasticize and put all over your walls:

Life is hard sometimes, like a rock.

Stairs are like climbing a mountain. Take it one step at a time.

The sunrise is the beginning of a new day

Valentine gifts

2011-02-13T11:23:00.000-08:00

I love Valentines Day. A great excuse to show the ones we love that we love them. Back when I used to cook, I would make a nice dinner for the fam and have some Valentine surprise on each plate. And of course I had the excuse of the holiday to buy the kiddos some cute outfit when they were little. Who knows what I did when they got older but I'm sure it was wonderful. And of course something heartfelt and wonderful for my hubby.

When Ron and I were dating (just a couple of months mind you) Ron gave me some beautiful flowers, a book, and I don't remember chocolates, but I'm sure he had to have gotten something at Cummings, or See's, or Mrs. Cavanaughs. None of the grocery store junk. After being married a few years, he bought me an incredible, very expensive Lladro. (pronounced yah-dro) It was a male and female ballerina. I thought it was kind of a weird gift considering that neither one of us were into ballet. But now I love it! I'm sure he gave me clothes cause I used to love clothes. I'm sure there were flowers and chocolate and flowers and chocolate. Romantic dinners, and not so romantic dinners as well.

So what would I love for my Valentines gift? First thing that always comes to mind is expensive jewelry. You can never go wrong with that! Don't worry if it's not in the budget. WORK IT OUT! Not rings. I don't like my hands anymore. And necklaces are out. They clash with my tubing. And I don't want anything to take away from the loveliness of that. Bracelets and earrings, preferably with diamonds. They are a go. And a fancy watch. That would work too. Actually, not too fancy. I'm too hard on watches. Just some cute stylish one at Costco would be just fine. Maybe one where you could switch out the bands to match any given outfit. Or anything that would look great with my assortment of sweatshirts. Sweatshirts! You can never have anough! More sweatshirts. Yeah, that would be good. And of course a grand piano is always on the list.

I love flowers. From Costco. Prettiest ones around AND you get the best bang for your buck. I want to paint my bed and bathroom. So maybe a gift cert from Home Depot but then you have to do the painting as well. Oh and man do I need (not want) a pedicure. I never get them in the winter. But yes, I need one.

It was brought to my attention last night of my love for chocolate. Damn I hate that I love it so much! Thrown in with that, was my love of percocet. (I'm sure I would still love it.) So, if you want to find that really special something, I would really, really. REALLY love a dish of chocolate covered percocet, or any chocolate covered narco! That would top any and everything on this very conservative list. Just sayin.

Love

2011-02-07T10:44:00.000-08:00

I love Valentines Day. It is a no pressure holiday that gives us a special day to express our love to those close to us. Which ties in perfectly to a I thought I had.

Sometimes I get so overwhelmed with the sadness and pain that goes on in the world. I have to stay away from the nightly news when I am especially vulnerable. And I am right now. There are people close to me who are hurting. And I can't do anything about it except pray and pray. I pull the covers over my head and hope it all goes away.

I often joke that I didn't vote for God's plan. I say I was put in the wrong line. Tell me what to do, how to do it, and that works great with me. This free agency stuff is more than I can handle sometimes. Remember, I am joking, I think I did know how tough this life would be. I think we knew more than we think we did. We were intelligences. Right?

I believe that the love I felt was so incredible, so overwhelming by being in the presence of my Savoir, that I was willing to do whatever it took to be surrounded by that love eternally. I think it was all about pure love.

So my goal is to figure out how to tap into that intense love whenever I need to feel His presence. It is there for me. I have felt it many times. I just forget sometimes.

Today I am grateful for that love and grateful that I remembered.

Do over

2011-02-02T12:17:00.000-08:00

I visit the past too often, especially lately. High school. I am one of the crazy ones who would do it over and over and over yet again. I loved it. It was all about music and friends and skiing and Lake Powell and our little family cabin at Bear Lake. It was about going on crazy fun conventions/vacations with my family. It was about going on many funny little adventures with my friends. And I was blessed with SOOOO many GREAT friends. There were alot of us. Really. I've heard you can only have a few best friends. There were many best friends in our group.

I would have done some things different as well. That is a place I go too often. On days like today. What would be different? Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. I would have taken education more seriously. I would have graduated from college. I would have been a choir teacher. I would have liked to get my Phd in music. I would have minored in history. I love history. I would have loved teaching history as well. I would not have gotten married so young. Lots of my friends did. The Mormon culture thing I guess. i would have gone on adventures around the world, like trekking to the base of Mt Everest, or an African safari. Or a humanitarian mission in a third world country. Or skied the Swiss Alps. Or visited my ancestors in Sweden.

I pretty much had a fairy book childhood. I miss it sometimes. I miss it today. I want to be carefree and have my biggest worries be what boy I liked and if he liked me back. I want to worry about what I'm going to wear to prom, or if I'm going to be asked at all. I want to worry about whose turn it is to drive to the ski resort, or wonder if I'll be able to fake it at my piano lesson if I didn't practice so well that week. I loved to practice! I would play the piano all the time. I got to accompany the school choirs. I would sight read the music all the time and did a good job. My choir teacher was my piano teacher as well. John and I are going to visit Mr C next week. I look forward to that. He was a huge influence in my love of music. Mr C. And John and I were in madrigals and accapella together. We both love Mr C.

Well back to reality. I just feel sad and stressed and sick and tired, and sick of being sick. Sometimes I wish I could have a do-over. Do you?

Potatoes and other things funeral

2011-01-26T11:00:00.000-08:00

I love to go to funerals. Not that I love the reason for the funeral, especially when it seems that a life was too short on this earth. Like the funeral I attended yesterday. Pat Aldrich. An incredibly sweet and dear woman. She was only 61. She was my neighbor. She was in my ward. She was fine a month ago. then got pneumonia and died. She seemed very quiet to me. I picture her sitting on the back row in Relief Society, not saying much. She was one of those who I imagine as a great listener because that is what she did so well. Or I picture her in the library getting chalk or pictures or books, or anything else anyone needed to teach their class. I imagine her just like that, getting whatever anyone needed to make life easier.

Pat and I rarely exchanged many words. But our last conversation went something like this. She put her arm around me and said "You sure gave us a scare. I am so glad to see you here doing so much better." During these last four weeks, I just knew I would be saying the same to her. She never came out of the hospital. Her death has been quite hard, as I keep thinking it should have been me. I am the sick one.

But God has a different plan I have to believe. I don't like His plan sometimes. But that's a different blog for a different time.

Back to why I love funerals. I never knew Pat was such a spit-fire. She was a sassy pants. I LOVE sassy pants. Maybe because I am. I found out that her motto is the same as mine, "don't ask for permission, just forgiveness". At Cathi's funeral a couple of months ago, her mom said how she had never heard Cathi raise her voice. Her son stood up and said, "Grandma never heard her raise her voice, but I sure did."

If you want to get to know someone, just go to their funeral. I got a brilliant idea. I think we should all have a funeral before we die.

I've planned mine. My kids have said my funeral will go on for about four hours, or longer. I said that was OK. (I don't particularly like long funerals unless it's mine of course). Mine is going to be all about music. I've let all the participants know. The music will be beautiful! Kate on the cello, Jason on the piano with his harmonica, the Crockers and their angelic voices. They are angels. And their mom, my first cousin and BFF on the piano. Curtis singing "You'll Be in My Heart" from Tarzan accompanied by Kelly DeHann. Curtis and I watched Tarzan all the time when he was little. Speaking of Kelly, I also want him to sing and play Now and Forever by Carly Simon, maybe Carole King. Jessica playing Sonata by Chip Davis on the piano. And maybe Nils singing "....serve, said serve..."

And then there are the talks. Ive got lots and lots of ideas. But I think something along the lines of a testimony meeting. Maybe a Sharstimony. Yay, or nay?

I want the place to be packed. Standing room only. Come on. Admit it. So do you. I would like my family to send out invitations. I would like the world to stop, or at least the state. I would like all the flags to be at half mast. I would like my death to make Entertainment Tonight, or some other news worthy show.

Now for what I don't want. I don't want the chapel to smell like funeral flowers. Is there another smell for flowers or do they all smell like funeral flowers when they are for a funeral? I would love it to smell like freshly cut grass, or the pine and streams and all other smells of the mountains. I want it to smell like the sidewalk after a rain storm or the lusciousness of the place on the neck of a new baby. Or the smell of bread baking in the oven.

I don't want it to cost a fortune. Why have some beautiful fluffy, comfortable box to lay in, just to have it put in the ground? And no open casket! Boo! What's up with the "And she looks so good." Who looks good when they're dead! K. I must admit. There are a very few that look better in death than life. Great makeup work people! I am great with a few pieces of 2 by 4's stapled together. Seriously! Take a big breath for this next one.....I would be so OK with being cremated. Donate whatever I can to science, though I don't think it would be anything now, and sprinkle the rest of me in the mountains. That would be easy AND cheap. Seriously!

And I don't want ham and jello, and especially not funeral potatoes. I like funeral potatoes, in fact, I love them. I just don't want them at my funeral. I want soup. All kinds, and great bread with real butter. Lots and lots of butter. In fact, more butter than bread. Anything chocolate, but chocolate mousse would be the best. Or maybe a chocolate fountain. My grandkids would love that. Oh, and I really love Chantel's cheese fondue. And vanilla coke to drink....not the kind that is already mixed, but coke and the vanilla flavoring. Yum! And make sure the coke is not diet! Actually, maybe skip the dinner altogether. Let's all go out. Maybe to a movie with popcorn and drinks. Yeah. Let's do that.

So how does that sound? I don't know about you, but I'm pretty worn out after my big day. I know. Let's just forget it all and go take a nap.

Thanksgiving..Music

2010-11-13T06:43:00.000-08:00

Things have to change. I had a dream the other night. About Vivian. Yes! That's right. For those of you who don't know, Vivian is a crazy, evil woman on Days. WAAAAAY TOO MUCH DAYS! I got hooked after spending months on end on the couch. (Justification)

Anyway, my kiddos were all coming home (minus Jami) for the weekend and I wanted the house to be spic and span. I went to turn on the TV to keep me company. I got a very uncomfortable feeling of brain freeze (that happens when I have lots to do and it kind of paralyzes me. My brain goes spastic and I basically go in circles not accomplishing much of anything) so I decided to turn on the CD player instead. Josh Grobin. I played it over and over and over again, with David Foster's Symphony Sessions in between. Brilliance! And I can hardly wait for Andre Bocelli Christmas. He hits CRAZY, RIDICULOUS notes! He jumps an octave and a half during one song. (Can't remember the name right now) WHOA! I don't think I'll wait til after Thanksgiving. Today is a great day for a little Andre.

I got so much done that day. And my soul was filled, my spirits lifted. I could conquer the world, AND I had a shiny floor. I was filled with such gratitude for my life. And especially for the gift of music. It is spiritual to me. It takes me away to places deep in my heart. I am grateful to such artists who have used and developed their God given talents.

I used to have the CD player on 24/7 while my kids were young. My piano was always playing. I was either playing or teaching. My kids used to love hearing me play. They still do though I don't play very often anymore. Many times I would be practicing in the morning before they woke up. I especially remember Chelsea bringing her blanket and pillow and lying on the floor (which was hard wood) just so she could listen up close and personal. I didn't know she was there. Curtis does that now. He begs me to play. Actually, all my children do. OK. I will.

Which leads me to Thanksgiving. I am going to post all my November entries on things that I am grateful for. And today, thank you God, for gift of music.

Dear Cathi

2010-11-03T12:32:00.000-07:00

Dear Cathi,

Congratulations! You made it. Your graduation day, as you always referred to it as, was Mon. Nov. 1st, the day you passed from this life to the next. So many things I would like you to know.

The last time I came to see you was about one month ago. You were not having a good day so I only stayed a few minutes. You were also intent on listening to Stake Conference which had been piped into your home. I really wanted to come back, but just couldn't. Of anyone, I knew you would understand. I knew the time was very, very close.

Today as I was lying in bed, I thought of some of the times we shared. We were pregnant together, more than once. Bryson and Andy would have been the same age. When I lost Andy, you brought me over a beautiful CD of hymn arrangements. I wore it out. When I was pregnant with Curtis, you brought me dinner, not after I had him, but the week before. How sweet.

We both dreaded January. For others it is a time of starting fresh. For us it was a letdown. You always complimented me on my garden. When Christopher was getting home from his mission, I was lucky enough to come and plant and weed for you, though you were not supposed to find out who it was.

More than anything, you taught me how to live with patience, purpose in the smallest of things, and long suffering. In dying you taught me quiet dignity and endurance, relying on a power heaven sent, because it was constantly sought after.

I'm happy for you Cathi, for you suffered, and now, that suffering is over. I pray for your family knowing that they will be OK. They had the greatest teacher.

I love you.

Shar

Johnny and his friends

2010-10-18T02:39:00.000-07:00

I woke up yesterday morning and noticed a few more deformities caused by MCTD. When I pointed them out to Ron I commented that it won't be long before he won't recognize me. He tenderly replied that he will always recognize and love me just the way I am. He then asked me if I felt any joy. Yes I do. All in all, as noted in previous posts, I am doing quite well.

Which brings me to Johnny. He is my Downs Syndrome nephew. I was lucky enough to attend his Special Olympics basketball game last Saturday. To watch all these kids (and I say kids though there was a gentleman who had to be in his late 60's) play their little hearts out was truly inspiring. Katie. She made her very first ever, basket. Jerry, or his name might have been Terry. Jason. He is around 47ish, very short. Under 5' I think. Running up and down the court clapping trying to get the fans involved. Another girl all decked out in her sports goggles. That was all she needed to feel like a winner. And Remi, short for Remmington. We sat by his dad. He kept almost losing his shorts. And Heidi was there to watch, though she never saw the game. She kept her head bent down always looking at the ground with those sad dark eyes. She is autistic. She won't ever speak. She is painfully shy. literally. Her mom was so darling. Her countenance radiated love, just like my sister.

And of course John, my sweet nephew. He's 20 yrs old. He would run up and down the court. You know his coach told him where his spot was cause he would run to it every time, and stay there. John shoots underhanded, as do many of the players. He came soooo close several times but the shots just didn't fall that day. He's a great shooter.

Then there was Bryan. Bryan looked to be the most physically disabled on the team. His left arm was completely immobile. It took it's place at his side, elbow bent at a 90 degree angle, and his hand hung at another 90 degree angle as well. And it was so thin, I'm sure from muscles that had never been used. His legs were very bent. His knees were so knocked that he would have to take an extra swinging motion just to get around each one to walk/run. As if that were not enough, his feet pointed in to one another, yet another obstacle to navigate with each step. Bryan looked like he could have cerebral palsy.

Bryan made one of the three baskets of the entire game. A hook shot because he only had the use of one arm. He was the first to run up and down the court in his ackward kind of way. He knew how to defend. He would put his arm up in the face of his 6'3-5 opponents. Yeah, the other team had some TALL players! Thus, only the 3 baskets for our Huskies. I commented to my sis how inspired I was by Bryan. She told me that his mother was told he would never walk. NEVER! As I said, he was running.

The Huskies lost. The score was 6 to 30 something. John wished he would have made a basket but he and the whole team felt like winners. Because they are. i learned so much last Sat morning, by sitting and watching and cheering. They are so dear and innocent. Which reminds me of one of my favorite stories. One day John got out of the shower and came walking out without a towel. Linda told him he needed to remember to wrap a towel around him next time. So the next day, sure enough, he came walking out with a towel, wrapped around his head!

God bless these sweet people. Actually, God bless the rest of us. for we will be the ones who really need those blessings.

Gratitude

2010-10-04T09:24:00.000-07:00

I had a great weekend! I was honored to be involved in a wedding of one of my BFF's son's at Log Haven, up the beautiful Millcreek Canyon. That night Ron and his brothers and their sons went to the conference center for the Priesthood session. Then out to dinner afterwards. I admit. I enjoy the alone time to do whatever I want. (I do that anyway!) Many ideas, such as shopping, kept running through my head but I opted to watch the Sat morning conference session. I can't be guilted into anything, except making dinner for Curtis, so my choice to watch was because I really wanted to.

I loved conference. Probably one of my favorites. I was deeply touched by many of the talks. Many hit close to home. I'll first get to the one that got me and most of my fam in a way that wasn't so good, quite unsettling actually. You know the one I'm talking about. It's already the scuttlebutt on the internet and within the Mormon gay community. The church has made much progress in their teachings of homosexuality, and I felt this talk put us many steps back again. Our daughter Chelsea is a gifted writer and expresses her feelings so well. I ditto all she said about it on her blog. I could go on and on about what a beautiful human she is, but you can capture that yourself by reading her blog. (Don't know how to link it. If anyone out there does, link her post in the comments please.)

Then comes Pres Ballard's talk on addiction, prescription pain pill specifically. My heart ached, and I cried for the woman he spoke about. She lost everything. What started as an innocent and legitimate need, became her master. She was the slave. She was in bondage. I pray she has found her way out of her prison. As most know, I was addicted to pain pills for many many years. (See first posts if you want to read about my journey) I know that the problem is great. And addiction to pain pills, especially for women, is way way too high for members of the LDS church. And we are not alone. It is a worldwide huge problem! Know that there is a way out. And if I can talk to, or help in any way, please please please let me know. I understand. Please read Pres Ballard's talk. It was full of hope and love.

I loved Pres. Holland's talk. I always love his talks. But I loved Pres. Monson's talk on gratitude most of all. Now back to the wedding up Millcreek Canyon. I love the mountains. I love nature. I love this time of year. I love all the colors of Autumn. I love the sound of rushing water, of birds singing, of trees rustling in the wind. I love the smell of pine in the air. I love the wild flowers that are getting ready for their winter nap. I was filled with such gratitude. I was thinking of a friend who commented that my disease must be a very tough thing to handle every day. Sure. I wish I wasn't sick. I wish I had the energy to do things I used to do. I don't especially like looking like a blowfish face, or that Darth Vader is a constant companion. BUT, would I be the person I am today had I not gotten sick? I like who am so much better now. I'm more calm. (I know. That kind of happens when you can't breath. No more yelling and screaming around my house! well, sometimes.) I appreciate simplicity. I'm content with what I have. (Except I really really want a grand piano. That will never change..) I'm more in love with my husband than I have ever been. I feel peace. I have come to see that God's plan is perfect and personal. I so love and appreciate each member of my family. I have experienced their love and care for me though it has been difficult many times, as I should be the one giving and serving as they are doing. With that comes the lessons I have received from being on the "taking" end of service. It has taught me humility.

There are many other lessons I have learned. Could I have learned in any other way? I don't know. Would I trade these lessons, or who I am now, for good health? I should probably say no, but I don't know the answer to that either. What I do know, is this is the way it is, and I am grateful. Very very grateful. Would I trade being BFF's with Nemo and Darth? Yes! I would.

The joys of oxy-gyn, not contin

2010-09-16T11:46:00.000-07:00

I have noticed how very nice and helpful people are, more than before oxy. Checkers always ask me if I would like the drive-up service. Uh...sure. I'm on oxygen you know. Standing in long lines gets me at least sympathetic looks. Or maybe just pathetic. Sometimes I just butt to the front and when I get dirty looks I respond with, Can't you see I'm on oxygen? Duh! Even the security guard at the DMV told me to have a nice day as I walked out. What! I didn't think they could speak! At the ice cream store the clerk said, I see you're on oxygen. Would you like another scoop for free? Sure. And how about my poor son who has a mom on oxy. Can he as well? And can I get a coupon for a free cone for my husband since he isn't here? And really. It would be so helpful if my family and I could get ice cream free for the rest of my life. Of course. This establishment is oxygen friendly. When I make mistakes of any kind, it's because of lack of oxygen. When the dishes aren't done and beds aren't made,..you know, I'm OO. Or when I don't fix dinner. I know I know, I rarely fixed dinner before, but I get a little more mileage out of it now.

My favorite of all was when Jami and I were 1/2 hour away from her new home in Minnesota. It was 11:30 at night. The kids had had it. The car was packed SOOO tight, we couldn't fit the pool floaties in without deflating them. And, I had all my oxy stuff. Anyway, Jame was driving rather quickly and sure enough, we got pulled over. Cop. Did know you were speeding? Jame. No shit Sherlock! Take a look in here. You would have been too! (K. Slight embellishment) Can I see your licence? Uh, I don't have one. I mean, I lost it. But I have my passport. Cop. Where are you going? Jame. I don't know. We are moving from Utah. Cop. What is the address? Jame. I don't know. C. You're moving and you don't know the address? J. No. What's so weird about that! C. Do you have anything with the address on it? J. No. I pipe in. We do have google maps. C. Let me see that and your passport. Me as cop is walking back to car. Oh, and I am almost out of oxygen so she was hurrying. C. Should I call an ambulance? Me. Uh.... no dork. I'm just WANTING TO GET OUT OF THIS CAR! And guess what? We didn't get a ticket.

I think there is alot of oxygen envy out there. And with Halloween just around the corner, I see the look on my neighbor Charles' face when he hears the Darth Vadar sounds coming my way. Who wouldn't want to sound like Darth during October? or anytime for that matter. Yes. Every time a take a breath, which is fairly often, I sound like Darth. (I;ve learned to hold my breath during prayers at church. So please, keep em short. And the accessory options are all taken care of. Think about it. Nose ring, earrings and necklace all in one. Try and beat that!

So I've decided that I will share the joy. If you're in a hurry and need to speed, give me a call. If you want to get free chocolate or books or clothes, give me a call. (You try asking first then let me know how it goes) If your children are driving you nuts, tell them you can instantly turn them into Darth Vadar. If you want to lay around all day watching Days of Our Lives, (which I hope you are all doing regardless,) and not get anything done, give me a call.

Oh yes, things are lookin good!

Update

2010-09-13T13:25:00.000-07:00

It's been just over a year now. And I have been horrible about blogging which I want to change. So, I will.

Many people ask how I'm doing. I try with all that's in me to stay positive. With that being said, I am going to try and give an honest lowdown, (Is lowdown a word, and if so, is it one word or two? Just askin) I had a really great summer. I spent lots of time with my grand kiddos. They have a way of making everything better. They lived with us for about 6 months. It was a treasured time. It was a time where Jami and I really bonded in a way we had not before. We laughed, cried, and cried some more, talked (though I wish we would have talked more) watched trash television, went to the pool, (many times); basically she and the kids got me out of bed doing. What a great blessing. The house has been very quiet since they moved out.

Anyway, back to how I'm doing. I can't quite remember if it was the end of July or August. It doesn't matter. My toes and feet started turning all these funky colors. It was kind of cool having a built in rainbow! But I knew something wasn't right. And it wasn't. after taking a biopsy of my toe, it came back that i had auto immune vasculitis, whatever that is. The doc was quite concerned as it could go to major organs, and that wouldn't be good. When he said I had to up my prednisone 8x's, Tears started streaming. He also put me on yet another heavy duty auto immune suppressant. It made me really sick so I wouldn't take it. The trade off is worth it to me. I want to live while I'm living even if it means taking a few years off my life. So far so good. Other things that have been going on. I have numbness in the right side of my face and mouth. Speaking of mouth, something is going on. Heat and cold really hurt it. Chocolate makes that all better. It makes everything better! One thing that is really hard on me is my what I call brain freeze. In my mind I have always been so funny and witty, (Come on. You know it's true!) words would just come to me. Not now. I can't think of the most simple of words. I taught a relief society lesson a few weeks ago. I used to do that kind of thing rather easily but I totally bombed this time. Someone commented after that they had heard me teach before and that she knew I used to be able to. I wasn't in the least bit offended. It's true. And I can still play a mean piano! Sometimes. Though I never play anymore.. It takes me all day to accomplish fairly minor chores like cleaning the kitchen and family room. It took me hours with many breaks. But I did it. Right? I get out of breath and my heart races. My oxygen hasn't been as good as it was the beginning of the summer. But that's ok too.

More than anything, I get down sometimes. Especially lately. I have a dear friend who has a disease similar to mine. I read her updates daily. She has such an incredible attitude. She is 80 lbs now and has pretty much round the clock care. She has lost her hearing in one ear, and the other is having problems. She wasn't expected to make it through last year. She still goes on. She has a productive life doing small projects as she can. I get sad and scared when I read her updates. I fear that that will be me in the future. It's not the dying that scares me. It's the living on and on like that. As I told Curtis, I don't know how to be a spectator.

I am still fairly new into this whole sick thing. Nils asked me last night if I feel like a well person with sick days, or a sick person with good days. I said the later though I don't really know yet. I dream of great runs or doing other things I have always loved to do. In the morning between the time of being both asleep and awake, I think, I'm going a run. It's such a beautiful day. Then I wake up all the way and reality hits me.

So my goal is to set goals, to find passion in my life, maybe to be a well person with sick days would be the way to go. Yep, that's what I need to do though I feel even as I'm typing, that that isn't an honest answer.

Thank you all for your continual love support and prayers for me and my family. I'm ok and it is my favorite time of year you know!

Change

2010-08-27T08:58:00.000-07:00

I've never been a fan of change. Think about it. Change a diaper. Yuck. Change a bad habit to good. Hard. Change at the grocery store. Pennies. They are useless. I vacuum them up. It takes too much time trying to dig them out of the carpet. Nickels and dimes? About the same. Quarters. Now they are worth the effort. They are actually useful. Changing clothes. Usually because I don't like what I'm wearing. Or it doesn't like me.

There are all kinds of change. I just drove with Jami and the kiddos to Minnesota for their next big adventure. Change in all that is comforable, in all that is safe. The drive was beautiful. I loved seeing a different part of the country, a change from what I have ever seen. I loved seeing Mt. Rushmore. I was filled with such a great love of our nation. I loved seeing the rolling acres and acres of farmland and felt grateful for the food that magically appears in the grocery stores.

And I loved seeing the Lamborn's new place of residence. Their home is very lovely, and spacious, a change from what they've been used to. The view from their back window is spectacular. No mountains for a change. But fields of greenery and towering pines. Tol and I went exploring in them yesterday. I am so excited for Jami and somewhat envious that they have this opportunity. I know there will be times when it will be hard. For all of us.

I know change is good. And I need to embrace it. It's about time, wouldn't you say? I'm trying, as my life has done a 180. I'm doing pretty well for the most part, but at times I feel sorry for myself and wish I was healthy so I could do what I have always loved doing....being active. With that being said, I am a fighter.

My prayers are with my children, especially Jami right now, that they will learn how great and exciting change can be.

's

Organio or Pianorgan...Whatever!

2010-05-17T14:47:00.000-07:00

Those of you who are pianists will fill my pain. Yesterday I was asked to play that, whatever it is, in Relief Society. (I was so happy to feel like I was contributing in some very small way.) So I sit down and start to play. No sound. Oh yeah. I have to turn it on first. Who turns on a piano! Where is that power switch? I am not accustomed to turning on my piano. Then some horrible ghastly sound comes out. Freak! What have I done? I know. I have ruined any kind of reverence that may have been there. And all the notes were correct. It was too loud and just plain ugly! You would think I could play softer and the organio would respond respectively. But no. Now what do I do? There must be some kind of volume control on this thing. Oh good. There it is. I think I will slide the notch to the third bar. Too soft. OK the fifth. Too loud. The fourth. Not loud enough but it will have to do. Then the prelude begins. YUCK! is all can hear. Even when played perfectly.

Maybe that's the problem....It's all too perfect. Or all the same. There is no "music" in this kind of music. I would say instrument, but it makes me cringe to call it an instrument.

What would Beethoven or Mozart or any of the masters think of this thing? I don't think pianos or organs like it too well either. I bet it's very confusing to the organio. I mean, what would you call it? Musexual or organiosexual? Yeah, that's what I would call it, organiosexual.

No wonder it has a horrible sound. It is confused and frustrated. It needs to come out of the musical closet.

Actually, it needs to go back in the closet never to be heard from again.

Its all about the Name

2010-04-23T18:31:00.000-07:00

23 years ago today, I walked into the Hallway on the 6th floor of the LDS hospital and screamed, “It’s a BOY”. It was loud, and I was told by Shar’s doctor that I woke up all the patients in the ICU wing. The ICU wing was two floors away, so I took that as a compliment. I was excited to have a healthy baby but the yell was to tell Rob Young that I was having a boy. He was in the adjacent room with his wife only minutes away from them finding out they were having another girl. It would be a surprise to them….but it wasn’t. It would be their 4th daughter. (They were happy, but Rob had told me that he was hoping for a boy just an hour earlier) Rob and I grew up in the same neighborhood. He is the same age as my brother Jeff. I would have been happy with another girl. But we new it was going to be a boy, so I was just rubbing it in a little. Maybe a lot. I look back and think I was a little silly. I guess I still am.

Within 15 minutes of delivery, my parents, Shar’s parents and our three daughters, Jami, Jessica and Chelsea arrived at the hospital. Jami was 8. Chelsea was 4 and Jess was right in between. Chelsea swore that day, in front of the whole family, that she would never have children and that she thought dogs would be better. She was in the room when the Doctor was finishing his work and of course Chelsea saw a little bit more than we would have wanted. 23 years later Chelsea has a dog, and NO children.
NOTE: Sometimes parents should turn off the TV.

Shar and I had debated about the name that we would call our first son. Nils was a family name and I thought Nils Nelson was a little bit too old and a lot of bit, to Swedish. Shar thought it was perfect and so it is. Nils Stephen (name of Shar's younger brother) Nelson.

In the mid 1800’s another Nils was born. This baby boy came to this earth under much different circumstances. Within a few days of his first breath, my great grandfather was left on the porch of an orphanage in Ostersund Sweden. He never got to know his parents. He never got to know their names. He lived his first 8 years of his life in that orphanage where somebody who worked there gave him the name of Nils.

At the age of 8 he ran away from home. It is hard to know the exact reason why he made his choice, but as a Nelson, he would have been counseled to get out if he was being miss-treated. What courage, or would it be stupidity, to move out on your own at the age of 8. He lived on the streets for the next 7 years of his life, working odd jobs and stealing for the right to eat his next meal. He lived in the cold and had little clothing and personal belongings. A small cloth bag held everything he owned and most of what he owned came from someone’s garbage or was stolen.

He hated living on the streets but years later he told his son Nils that it was much better than the treatment he was given at the orphanage. It was a tough life for a young boy.

During the winter of Nils’s 15th year he was bedding down in the town cemetery. He would stay up and keep moving to keep the blood moving in his young weathered body. He would do this until exhausted and then collapse and try to sleep.

A few weeks before Christmas, he was walking too the cemetery to start another long night of freezing cold in hopes that he could find a bite to eat along the way. This night would change his life, even though at the time he had no idea of what was ahead. He was just looking to be warm and for something to eat. He heard some music. Singing… Christmas Carols. He followed the sound to an open Hall in the town square close to the cemetery. There he met a group of Mormons who were taking food to people in need. Fredric Nelson was the branch president for the small group of LDS church members and found conversation with young Nils on that bitter night. Nils was invited to go and spend the night, out of the cold, and have a warm meal at the home of my adopted great, great grandfather. Within a weeks time he was staying in the Nelson home full time and within a year he was baptized into the LDS faith and adopted into his new family. On the records of the church he was given the name of Nils Fredric Nelson.

A year later they left Sweden and traveled to America and on to Utah to join the latter day saints in Salt Lake City. 16 years later my Grandfather was born. Fredric Nils Nelson. There is a lot in a name. Some of us just don’t know the story.

Happy Birthday Nils. We give thanks for him and his younger brother and our three beautiful daughters and people like Fredric Nelson who have given to our family in such abundance.

A New Life

2010-04-07T12:25:00.000-07:00

Have you ever felt like you don't belong? Maybe a new school, a new neighborhood, a new job? Maybe the one who just didn't fit in. You're just kind of there taking up space, trying your best as you either do or don't know how.

Being chronically ill puts you in many different places that are new, just like the school, neighborhood, job, whatever. It is a strange place that is very uncomfortable if not depressing. And depressing it is, at least for now while I am trying to find my way. A brand new way. A way I got used to navigating with Ron when he was the sick one.

It has been 10 months since I have been down and I am not used to it yet. Not even. I feel as though I am in the middle of nothingness as life is happening all around me. Many days, at least lately, I go to bed in the same "clothes" I wear all day. What's the point? I don't go anywhere and do very little.

Last week I had so much anger inside, I felt as though I would literally explode! And when I wasn't exploding, I was constantly crying. I hated feeling so out of control.

Now that the doc appointments are just on a follow up basis, I realize this is my life. For how long, who knows. And I am having such a hard time trying to find meaning in what I do, or don't, as the case may be. Actually, I am not doing much of anything. Not yet at least.

I know I need to make plans for a new life. To do things in a new way, do different kinds of things. I pray that the depression will lift and that I can find joy and meaning in each new day being grateful for all I have been blessed with.

Sometimes it is Sad

2010-03-26T22:39:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been sad? What does sad feel like?…

It was October 17 1969. I was a sophomore, no driver’s license yet. Steve had celebrated his 16th birthday a few days earlier. No one would have guessed that he was two months plus a few days older than me. I was 8 inches taller and could grow a beard. 5 months earlier, Steve threw the ball to me that became the result of one of the most embarrasing moments of my life. With most of our school watching, and after catching the ball and runnning for a touchdown, Bryan Tucket went for my flag but caught my pants and rip...off they came, exposing me in my jockstrap with my butt mooning the student body. I am still reminded about that catch 40 years later. I can laugh about it now...but then...kids can be tough. Lucky I was bigger than all of them.

There was a homecoming stomp at Highland that night. He called me and asked if I wanted to go…Of course we went. We both danced a little…I don’t remember who with. I have always loved to dance. Shar’s biggest fight with me was over dancing. Well... It was her company party at the Fort Douglas Club. The dinner was fabulous and the band was even better. Shar and I danced a little…It was obvious she didn’t enjoy it as much as I did back in the late 1970’s. Her boss, who was stoned drunk asked Shar if she would share me and let me dance with her…a little part of Shar was happy to have her boss try her skills on the dance floor with me. She let it all go and didn’t remember a thing the next day…So did I, and I remembered everything. Half way through our second dance, I noticed everybody had stopped dancing and now were circling us and clapping and urging us to get even wilder. We did…Shar left and went and sat in the car. She was so embarrassed. If she could, she would join me today and we would dance the night away. We had that opportunity a few years ago at my cousin’s wedding. The band was fabulous. So was she.

Steve and I eventually found our way sitting on the hard wood floor in the far Northeast corner of the Gym. It was noisy but the conversation soon blanked out everything else as though we were the only ones around. We were friends…best friends…and we could talk about anything but didn’t very often…we could talk about sports and girls and school and homework…this night the discussion started with the World Series. Brook Robinson, the hall of famer 3rd Baseman was the most valuable player in a 5 game series that surprised the experts. The Baltimore Orioles beat the Big Red Machine of Cincinnati. Steve was a baseball player. He was a really good baseball player. He was a sure thing when it came to making the varsity team as a sophomore playing 2nd or 3rd base, but that would have to wait until spring. He was going to try out for the basketball team so we talked about who would letter first. Getting your letter jacket was a big thing back in 1969. The things kids talk about. I was hoping to make the basketball varsity team in a few weeks. I had played most of the day shooting at the ward house on Foothill preparing for tryouts. Steve was hoping for the sophomore team.

We left the stomp early. The girls we liked didn't show up. We were happy by ourselves that night. I called my mother from the payphone just outside the gym to let her know that I would call her from Steve’s house. There was a bank of three phones attached to the red brick entry wall where we would always enter when there was a game or when I was late for school. When was the last time I used a pay phone? I don’t remember. We walked with a pace of a turtle. We were not in a hurry. We stopped a few times just to layout on a lawn. We laughed, probably waking up kids that their parents had just put down to bed. We were loud. The things we learn as we age.

It was a warm October night and the moon lit up the sky. Steve's street is the same today…it was lined with large Elm trees. The trees always made Steve’s street seem very dark. There was always shade on those hot summer days. No sun block was needed. This night you could see for a hundred yards or more. The moon light wove through the drooping branches of the trees. We talked about how weird that was.

We sat under the tree in his front yard leaning up against the large edgy trunk where the conversation turned spiritual. Steve was to be ordained a Priest the next morning. We talked about that and our belief in God. We asked the questions that no one has the answers for. I am still asking those same questions. We laughed, we even cried when Mark Newsom was remembered. He had died in a motor cycle accident just before school started in August. He was so talented. Music was his love. Perfect pitch…nobody had perfect pitch, but he did. We sang in boy’s glee together. I miss him.

I had forgotten to call my mom back until after midnight. I heard about it when she finally came to get me. It was almost 1 AM. Steve waited with me until she came. His parents had gone to bed an hour earlier. As the car lights glimmered from around the corner we both stood and gave each other a sporty hug and told each other we would see each other on Monday. I wished him luck with his ordination and told him I was going to get my letterman’s jacket first. “I will make the team”. He laughed, and I was gone.It was around 6:00 PM on Sunday. Less that a day had passed when my dad called me to the phone. It’s a girl…Ann Barker, who I had a crush on in the 9th grade was calling. Have you heard the news? She was crying….Steve is dead – Steve is dead. I was Curts age...15 years old. "What do you mean?" ….He was with Bruce Nelson and 4 others when there jeep turned over and crushed him. He died instantly…nobody else was hurt. The reality had not sunk in but the words hurt and I began to cry. I thanked Ann for letting me know and then went to my room and cried all night. My parents came in and cried with me. What do parents do? I appreciated them that night and the following months. They helped me through. I got some of that same practice with Jami when Jeff died… and when Ashley died, I was there to tell Chelsea. You can never get those moments just right. You can only just be there. All three died in car accidents, even though Steve was in the hills, off road, when the jeep rolled. He was on the back passenger side of the topless jeep. He was in the wrong spot at the wrong time. I spoke at his funeral. Highlands’s baseball coach, Mr. Hardcastle, came and awarded him his letter just before I spoke. I cried as I shared our conversation from just a few days earlier and then somehow got through my talk. Everyone I knew was there, and we all cried and we were all sad together.

Someone asked me how I was feeling yesterday. I responded, “I am sad”. My friend urged me to talk about it. “I don’t know if I have ever felt more sad”….and then I thought of Steve. It is hard to compare…

Shar’s illness has changed our lives. She is sad about it. I am very sad about it. She is more sad. The ability to change the way things are is hoped for, but the reality of today is hard. There are many diversions that take place everyday that make it easy not to focus on the sadness. We thank everyone for the diversions you create in our lives. We appreciate, so much, the love that has walked through our front, back and side doors. We love the cards and the jokes and the meals and the visits. Everyone has helped take the sadness away. We might get used to this change, but it hasn’t sunk in quite yet…I hope it never does. We hope that things will improve. Hope is a great thing…but waiting…day by day by day is hard and sometimes sad.

As we have gone through this past week we are sad to hear how people treat people when it comes to political things. How sad…The things we think and say and do, sometimes create sadness. We should all listen and show respect even if our expeience and thoughts and feelings are so different. We should all love a little more and more often.

Sadness is one of the emotions that I have experienced over the last few months. It is not my favorite, but it is teaching me. Shar has not written on her blog for a few months…She has been too sad…She just told me she looks like a blow fish…I think I will go in and paint blue and orange stripes on her face. Oh, what we do to push the sadness away. The great thing is that sometimes it really works. Sadness comes and goes…Through it all we are greatful and surprisingly...OK.

Lets Go For a Run

2010-03-10T20:50:00.000-08:00

About 10 years ago a treadmill ended up residing in our basement. It had been living at Shar’s parent’s house for quite a few years, but was feeling badly for its non use. Over lunch, hot chicken soup and home made rolls; the decision was made to move it from one basement to ours. It sat in its new surroundings rarely being used because Shar ran outside and I wouldn’t touch it. Shar is a runner. If she is not running, she is thinking it. This morning she wanted to go run. THIS MORNING. The walk from the bedroom to the kitchen did her in so she sadly gave up the dream, at least for today. “Today would be a fabulous day to run around the lake”. Do you want to go?” I looked at her, not quite knowing how to respond. I could feel her deep frustration and sadness. Today she would not be able to run.

Once in a blue moon, whatever that means, Shar would hop on the treadmill and give it a spin. She could run for miles when she was out in Gods beauty, but inside, she would only go a mile or two or three, sometimes just to warm up, or sometimes in the early evening, an hour or so after dinner, when her running partners were not available. It was always in winter, for night came quick and early and Shar was always about safety, not wanting to run alone when it was dark. I had told my sweetheart, on more than one occasion, that we should get rid of that treadmill, that it was only taking up space, and that I would never use it. I tried again when it was time to give the treadmill a new house. I hated to run. Well, I disliked it very much. I couldn’t run. On these occasions I was not her sweetheart.

Shar’s first Marathon was in Las Vegas. I thought she was nuts when she signed up. A trip to sunny and warm Las Vegas would be nice so I did support her, even though I thought she was crazy. I would take my golf clubs and hope to play at the Desert Inn. It is nice to know people, but that didn’t happen on this trip. We traveled down with two other families (dear friends) who had runners and with the original owners of the treadmill and two of their Grandchildren, Jami and Jessica (our two oldest daughters.) Oh, they were cute when they were young. They remind me that they still are.

We were all going down to support Shar and her running friends and hoped to have some fun. The sleeping arrangements were poor. Sleeping with my father in law is similar to trying to catch a few minutes of shuteye inside a hanger where they are testing jet engines 24-7. The only thing to do at midnight to five in the morning in Vegas is to sit at one of the million blackjack tables and try not to loose $20.00. Free orange juice throughout the night was a plus and it sure beat trying to use my imagination to come up with the best sound barrier that I could use to shut down the noise that was going on in room 166. I was not successful and vowed I would never make the mistake again of rooming with my in laws no matter how much I love them. It was 5:00 AM when the gambling money ran out, so I took a walk outside to check the weather. There was a McDonalds that had just opened and it was close to the hotel. I went for some pancakes and sausage, my favorite meal at McDonalds. They had it 30 years ago and you can buy it at your local McDonalds today plus inflation…before 10:30. I have always thought McDonalds could do even better business by serving breakfast all day long. I would visit more.

The walk, across the street and down a half of block, was miserable…it was cold…it was blowing…it was snowing…in VEGAS…I ate quickly and then retreated back to the hotel to make sure Shar was up. Shar, Melissa Wood, her first running mate and best friend (2nd cousin too – they found this out while running one morning when they were talking about a family reunion they both needed to attend) and Rich Pugh needed to get to the buses that would take them to the starting line; 26.2 miles away from the finish line. I was hoping the weather would give the runners a break and the wind would stop, or start to blow in the opposite direction. I knew that for the first 20 miles or so the runners would be running north, which on this morning was like running in the Alaskan Wilderness in a 30 mile an hour head wind. The wind chill was below 0…in Vegas.

They boarded the cold bus and were gone. Many of the runners didn’t even get on board. It was too cold. More of the runners never got off the buses when they reached the starting line…it was freezing.

I returned back to the hotel and laid down for an hour or so. Pres was up and out getting breakfast for he and Carol, and I was beat but it was silent. I couldn’t allow myself to sleep because I was worried that if I did, I would miss the race. A few years later I had a very similar experience with a group of golfing buddies. Rooming with Steve McPherron was like rooming with Pres. Let’s just say I got very little sleep on that trip, but, I did play a lot of golf. The race was beginning and I had a little time before I needed to get the girls up so we could go cheer on their mother. We had to stop at McDonalds for breakfast, the second stop for me that morning. The same cashier welcomed us. No smile. It might have been because she had braces. We ate our pancakes and then we were off to the course. Again, no golf course could have been played in Vegas that morning. The drive was slow for the roads were wet and very slippery. I was happy I had a good set of Utah tires. Even the Vegas Strip was barren and even the gamblers had stayed into hibernate.

We stopped at mile marker 13, the half way mark and waited. We had to keep the car running so the car heater could keep us comfortable. The visibility was about 100 yards. About 40 minutes passed before the runners started to appear through the blowing snow. No one told us the race would start late. No one could. It was miserable and it was so colder than cold. The girls and I would jump out of the car with our home made signs each time we would see someone coming. We were sad each time it was not Shar (mom) but happy to get back in the car where it was warm. Almost an hour passed from when the first runner went by, to when Shar appeared. Her head was down focusing on only her next stride. She was clothed in her red sweats, heavy coat with her blue hat and black gloves. She hadn’t dared to take them off. As she got closer we yelled as loud as we could and I cheered like I never had before…I had never seen her run…I was so proud....she looked up with a quick smile…and then back to the grind…and as she disappeared back into the cold grey sky, I cried.

We stopped again at the 20 mile marker. The snow had let up some but the wind was still howling. She was one of the last runners to pass that point that day. I was hoping she wouldn’t be disappointed.

We waited at the finish line. Melisa and Rich had finished almost an hour earlier when Shar crossed the line with the biggest frozen smile you could ever imagine. She had finished. Her time 4:31:26. It was slower than she had wanted…but when I look back now…She was moving. Just over 10 minute miles in that weather…Amazing.

Shar ran 3 other marathons in St. George. The weather was always better and her times just went lower. She broke the 4 hour mark twice. 8:45 per mile. Wow! I was always there at the finish line in total awe of her, and a tear would always form in my eye from the emotion that would fill my soul watching her RUN and realizing what she had mastered. She had some of her happiest and joyful moments as she would cross that line and know she had accomplished her dream.

I run around the lake now. I started last year. I did it for the first time this year just last week. I still enjoy swimming in the lake more than running around it, but that will have to wait another few months…for now, I run, I really do it…and…I like it.

Last night, the same as the night before, I stepped on the treadmill that sits in our basement at 11552. I have stepped on it many times this past winter waiting for the sun to warm the earth and for spring to introduce itself to me once more. I run about 3 to 4 miles and then step off. I like it, even though it does not come close to running outside on the worn pavement. There are two things that are sad each time I step off that treadmill. The first is selfish. My per mile time is not even close to what Shar ran back when…I blame that on my age, even though I know better…and second; I realize that when Shar ran…I could not. Oh, how life likes to fool with us.

Last summer, Shar and I strolled around the lake, sometimes just together, sometimes with our Grandchildren in their Blue and read double stroller and sometimes with our children and friends.

I hope for the day when she can run again and that her wishes come true, so that one morning when she wakes and wants to go for a run, WE CAN.

The Waiting Room...(From Ron again..)

2010-02-28T18:29:00.000-08:00

The Waiting Room

We wait……We wait for almost everything. I am sure the list changes for everyone, but we wait. We wait to read……We wait for children, Ok, children wait for their parents too. We wait for the time to go to bed, for our favorite TV show, for dinner, breakfast and snacks in between. We even wait to wake up from a great sleep… how wrong is that. We wait at stop lights, in front of schools, in a grocery store line. We wait for the most important days and moments of our lives; a first step, the first word, the first love, first kiss, graduation getting married, for some getting divorced. We wait to go on vacation and then we wait until it is time to come home. We wait to go to school and then when we get there we can’t wait until school is over. The same goes with work and with church but let’s keep that one silent and please don’t wait to go to either. We now need to wait 4 more years for the next Winter Olympics. Yea…How old will you be then? You have to wait.

We wait at Hospitals. They actually have rooms. Waiting Rooms. What are you waiting for right now?

Every Waiting Room probably has or maybe just needs a Helen. Have you ever just hung out in a waiting room without waiting for news about a member of your family or a dear friend? Have you ever just done it for fun, or for the experience of it? You should. I have. The people you meet…. But that was a while ago. Maybe I will tell that story someday, but you will have to wait.

Helen should just hang out and tell her story For all that would listen, my sense is that it would make everyone’s visit to the hospital go so much faster and hopefully give others the feeling that MY LIFE IS GREAT EVEN THOUGH I WAIT.

I did as I was told by Shar’s nurse, and checked in with the lady at the desk in the WAITING ROOM! She was a small and very slender oriental woman. I could hardly understand a word she said. She asked what the patients name was three times. Read My Lips - S.H.A.R.O.N. N.E.L.S.O.N. She was a volunteer who had a phone and computer, but it was obvious she did not know how to use either. The other people in the room seemed to hold their breath each time the phone would ring or someone new would walk in and give her a patient’s name. I thought a hospital concierge would be much nicer. It would be nice to be led to all the fun spots of the hospital and know there was a spa waiting for those in waiting. Wouldn’t that be great? Everyone should be able to get a massage or sit in a hot tub or go sweat on an elliptical or treadmill or pump some iron. After a nice shower, someone would deliver the meal of your choice and we would sit in chairs that reclined with warm blankets with a nurse or trained foot tech who would pull up over our feet a pair of those warm green with white striped hospital socks, and don’t forget the deserts from Kneaders. Most people in the hospital can’t do these things…at least while they are cooped up…but for those who wait…why not.

Helen was waiting for her mother. I sat down in a double blue seater close to her with one chair separating the two of us. I had walked the halls nervously and made a few business calls that couldn’t wait until the next day. I was worrying about Shar and pictured her waiting to drift into sleep. I also took time to stuff my pockets with shortbread cookies from the treat basket next to the water cooler. They are the best treat ever, in a waiting room. After the last phone call I decided to settle in for the long haul. The chair was not the most comfortable but after I tested it out for a minute or two, it felt OK. I glanced over towards the lady with the white but graying hair and our eyes caught each others so without any thought of what was to come, I said “Hello”. Helen was 57 years old. She looked like she was 75, so when she told me her age, I hope the look on my face was not sending the same message that was being registered in my brain. I wanted to run to the nearest bathroom to take a good look in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look that old. Her mother was having some surgery due to her 3rd stroke in the past year. The surgery was to open up some blood vessels in a certain part of her brain that was “bloodless”…her word, not mine.

She was her mothers care giver and has been living in Utah for the past year or so... She had moved to Utah from Wyoming and doesn’t see a way back home until her Mother passes.

Talking to Helen was easy…she would have shared anything, in her slow, Wyoming drawl, that would increase or decrease in its decibel range depending on if someone was talking with the concierge (oriental lady). As we talked, she talking and taking up 95 percent of the conversation, her phone rang. The sound was the same ring tone as mine…I reached for my phone that was hiding now in the right pocket of my black vest, but it was her phone that needed to be answered. That was probably a sign from heaven that maybe I should change my ring tone, but I will wait to do that. The call was from a friend, Bernice or Bernie as she called her. “OH NO… Damm It” ….. “What am I going to do? … Is he going to be all right? The conversation lasted a few minutes…I wish I could have reached over and put her phone on speaker so I could hear the other side of the conversation. Helen became anxious, and from what I could gather from her words, was that somebody else she knew was on their way to a hospital, and that it couldn’t wait.
She hung up…her head fell to her hands for a minute or so…and our conversation…it slowly started up again, but it took a few minutes, for now I was somewhat speechless, not knowing what to say…and she visibly was a little emotional and in shock. She held her phone like she needed to call someone…but no… She started to shake a little…This was not expected from this rough, on the exterior, women from Wyoming who wore Wrangler Jeans, a yellow plaid long sleeve shirt with a brown vest. The material looked like oxford and there was a tear in the material just above her waist close to the bottom button. She did wear Nikes on her feet which I thought was cool.

Her son had just had A STOKE – Coincidence – You have to be kidding (I thought) and they were rushing him to a hospital in Sheraton. “What should I do”, she asked.

I went through what I thought was an appropriate response asking if she had any other relatives or friends that could come and take care of her mother… how long her mother would be in the hospital. Nothing I said seemed to click. She had no one. I asked about other children….Wow…wrong question?

One of her sons is down at the point of the mountain (Utah State Penitentiary). She sees him once a week. She loves him and his name is Michael. “He did some bad things, but he is turning his life around” - How much longer I asked “I think about 3 more years”.

Her son that had just had a stroke, Brent or Bryan, well it started with a B. Too much information in a short amount of time. Sometimes it takes me a year or more to get to know people’s names. You know, waiting to eventually get it right.
At my age, I am now waiting to forget the names of people I know. That has happened to you. Right?

I felt so sorry for Helen, but the story…it just kept going….one thing after another... Her 3rd son, whom she has not seen in over 5 years, and at the age of 27, was just indicted on 11 federal counts of forgery, money laundering and drug possession and dealing. “I have had it with him. He got started on that Meth and it ruined his life…He started ruining mine so I can’t deal with him right now”. I wondered if she was waiting for him to turn himself around-It obviously was going to take along, long time. A long, long wait. As we continued to talk, she kept saying that she needed Bernie to call her back, she was waiting for that call when the Doctor who had performed her mothers surgery, dressed in green hospital scrubs with a white and light blue hair cap, came in to give the news. He was young…I thought 25 – but he had to be much older…Helen needed some of what he had. “The surgery went fine. We were able to do everything we wanted…………………………..” She stood and walked over to the wall of windows, away from most the people gathered in the Waiting Room, with the surgeon.
“So she is going to LIVE” She seemed to shout this for everyone to hear. She sounded surprised and disappointed as the words slipped out. I wondered at that moment if her mothers dieing was her way to get back home to B___ in Sheraton, but now that short lived plan was up in smoke. What was she going to do? How long would she have to wait? She sat back down and started to gather her things. She had 3 bags. I am not sure what was in them except in one she had a diet Pepsi and in one she had her phone. I thought that one of the bags probably had her mother’s things in it…but, I will never know. It didn’t matter. She was a little pail from the news of the day…or maybe it was the news of her life, and from what I was witnessing and feeling, I thought she needed to be admitted to the hospital for a month or more…Just to get a break…But who would visit…I would have visited...But, maybe not…Life moves on.

“Is there anything I can do for you….”NO, but thank you” was her response…My body jumped a little as her phone rang again. I was hoping it was Bernie.

The person on the other end of the line was Donald or Donny, who was calling Mom about B__, but the conversation turned to his diabetes which was flaring up and he was unable to go to work for the last few weeks. As I was listening to every word – I got this great feeling of compassion for this woman whom I had just met. A mother, with 4 sons…one on his way to the hospital…one on his way to prison…one in prison…and another in his own prison.. At 400 plus pounds, all his mother could utter was “Please take care of yourself….You need to take care of yourself or You Will Die!”

The conversation soon ended…she packed up her things…I wanted to give her a big hug, but all I could do was wish her the best and she was gone.

I got up and changed scenery for a minute….Out in the hall across from the Waiting Room bathroom, I planted myself on a soft green chair…Just for a minute… for there was a person inside that bathroom that had to have had beans for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the past week for the sounds that were coming through the door could be heard from 100 feet down the hall. I couldn’t stay seated. I was worried the smell would soon follow and I was laughing so hard, along with everyone else who was close by. It was like we were a bunch of 10 year olds…I couldn’t just sit there and wait to see who this poor, feeling lousy, person was…I was hoping it was a guy because the sounds were not lady like...Nobody could take that embarrassment when they had to walk out that door, so I had to remove myself and go wait somewhere else. I moved toward the bank of elevators and rode down a floor. I went to the cafeteria and had some beans for lunch…just kidding…a half a sandwich…Turkey and Swiss on Wheat…with a coke. My stomach was feeling the pain and I didn’t have to wait too long.

As I returned to the waiting room, I realized that over 4 hours had passed since I kissed Shar just before they took her away. Wow…Within about 20 minutes of really waiting by myself, Dr Caine showed up in his hospital green scrubs, without the hat. “I am sorry you have had to WAIT…..Everything went well……her lungs don’t look great…BOOP…It is going to be a few days before we have any further results…We talked for a few minutes. He laughed when I told him a little about Helen and the person in the bathroom. A Thoracic Surgeon…He was a very good friend with Shar’s brother Steve whom I had known when he was in high school. He was still the fun, smart and practical jokester except now it was appropriate to call him Doctor, even though he insisted on Bill.

I took two books and my knitting but I didn’t get to any of it in the Waiting room, well if two and a half pages of The Greatest Generation, counts, I did read something. For the most part, of my visit to the hospital, my mind was diverted away from Shar and what she was going through. Maybe it is the diversions that get us through. Otherwise we would all just wait until….What are our diversions on the route to the inevitable?

We have had to talk about it lately…for it is staring us in the face as it has before…even though this time it is much tougher for me, for we are talking about Shar this time, my wife, my sweetheart, my best friend. She knows me like a good book and has found forgiveness for me for the bad. The news has come almost as fast as the news I received from Helen. One thing on top of another, until I can hardly breathe.

We wait to die…we deny it…but we wait…we try to keep our lives busy with diversions so we really don’t think about it that often…we don’t like to talk about it…and it is much to early to think about it for my bride for eternity. But we wait still…wait for more tests…wait for results from Stanford and from the Mayo Clinic…we hope still and pray still. We look forward to today and tomorrow, but don’t venture too much beyond that except for our wait for the next Doctors visit or Curtis next Basketball game. She is a trooper of all troopers. She is waiting so courageously and valiantly as her life is becoming a whisper of days past. She is in bed a lot and does not move from our home, hardly at all. We wait for spring and warmer days. She waits…and we wait…not for the inevitable but for another minute, hour, day, month, year and who knows with other diversions that will be sure to come, we hope a lot longer. We wait for a visit or a phone call from family or a dear friend. We wait for more hope. We wait for increased faith. We wait for continuing miracles.

So knowing we all wait, I guess the question is how we do it? I guess the answer is different for us all… for life is a lot like a few hours with Helen; A bunch of diversions that for moments occupy our every living cell, and then are gone, only with memories, good and bad, hard and sad. I will always remember that day with JOY!

I just got a call from a friend…he asked me how Shar was and I started to answer…when…he put me on hold…so…I am waiting…

Space Invaders..with love from Ron

2010-02-22T06:50:00.000-08:00

Have you ever felt like “your space” was being invaded….It can happen in many ways….someone sitting at your place at the table….someone taking over responsibilities at work…finding something missing when you knew you had put that something – (wallet, keys, cash, etc.) away in that … it only belongs here place. How about someone else writing on your blog.

Last Week, a dear friend came and invaded my space. She is really Shar’s friend, but since I know all about her and because of her love for our family she is like family…a dear, dear friend. Well, I got home the other day and our home was spotless. No more signs of Christmas. The house smelled new and clean and perfect…the floor shined like new, the countertops had nothing on them collecting dust…I could even find the jam in the refrigerator without having to take things out and then finding out it had been left with the Peanut Butter on the laundry room countertop. Yea, that happened a few weeks ago…I’m pretty sure it was me, but I don’t remember….

I could go room by room and tell you how grateful I was that someone had invaded my space…but my closet….who knew the things that were hiding…Not only had my closet been transfigured from a hell looking existence…but nothing was where I had left it. Everything was hung up….everything except my shoes. But it was different…all different. My things were hung on Shars side of the closet, on her rods….There were no clothes piled up on the floor…zero….The closet even smelled better….I never noticed it smelled bad…but now it smelled good….I remembered how my daughter Jessica could argue when she was smaller that she always new where things were, even if you couldn’t see the carpet on her floor. Well, the closet wasn’t that bad, and I couldn’t say where everything was…but…now…it is like one of those closets you see in the movies. Everything was in its place…different place…but as I stood trying to take it all in..and trying to find the irritation in my soul…I couldn’t…All I could do was cry and feel grateful. (Yea, don’t spend a lot of time trying to picture the tears)

Thank You for invading our space.

How grateful I am. I left one day for work…arrived home and accomplished in that day what Shar has been asking me to do for years.

This is only one of the million blessings that have come our way in the mix of trying to find our lives intertwined with Shar’s illness as the people we love have started the invasion of our space.

How is she? ………………..Not very good physically. Shar had surgery last week. The Doctors wanted to do it because her lungs are failing. She has lost 32 to 47 percent (depending on the test) of her lung capacity, function, diffusion and volume. She is on Oxygen 95% of the time…the other 5% she is OXD – OXygen
Deprived because the devise is driving her nuts…two months ago she said she would never go on oxygen and now here we are…I have tripped over the plastic tubing that follows her where ever she goes and almost killed myself after one of those adventures. Happy to say I survived. My mother went through the OXD and thank goodness we laughed when we could. We all tripped over her lines and yes.,…she almost killed herself by tripping over it. I once arrived at 1866 finding her on the floor with no ability to get up by herself. It was serious at the time, but we found laughter. If I get home one day and Shar is on the floor…I have already let her know that I will leave her there. I hope she has her phone at the time so she can text.

BOOP – Bronchiolitis Obliterans with Organizing Pneumonia – is the diagnosis, or the diagnosis based upon the first diagnosis, or should we just say a secondary condition which has brought worse news than the initial or primary diagnosis. It is not a Pneumonia treated with antibiotics – the real term should be Pneumonitis or just Inflammation of the obliterates or the small airways in the lungs. For some unknown reason, other than the original disease diagnoses of Mixed Connective Tissue Disease, Shars lungs have begun to crystallize which is making life different….disease has started to invade her space, the space she needs to breathe

Our space (our home) is being invaded. Dear, dear friends keep showing up…I think we haven’t known a few people that have come that voice that we are their bestest of friends…but who cares when they bring a gallon of burnt almond fudge Ice cream.

I came home the other day and was concerned that my wife had a heart attack. I had no clue that a heart attack could bring so much joy…..Hearts with notes taped all over our bedroom and bathroom. Even Connie did not have the heart to bring them down…for in every heart ….we find light…

Life is hard…but the harder it seems to get…the more JOY we seem to feel. Interesting!

I will leave the diagnosis of that statement for each of you to figure out….Good Luck!

We would love for life to return to normal, with Shar getting well and with Shar telling me to get my clothes off the closet floor. We hope and pray for that day, but for now it doesn’t matter. It hasn’t mattered for months now. I have always been amazed at what people go through to get through. For years I met hundreds of people trying to get through and from time to time I would get some understanding of their situation to realize that miracles happen in all of our lives, even in the darkest of moments.

For every miracle there is still sadness and worry….Mortality is just that….Mortal. The things we do and think and worry about….Some, I guess, really do matter.

What's in a name

2010-02-11T12:37:00.000-08:00

I never liked reading as a kid. In fact I didn't like much of anything that had to do with sitting still. Except for playing the piano. Somehow I could do that for hours and hours. I would have been in big trouble had it not been for cliff notes. I was the kid who organized neighborhood softball games in the field, or sneak onto the nun's tennis courts in our backyard. I loved my 10 speed bike.....anything that had to do with being outside.

Many years ago, I discovered the great adventure books take you on. And now I love to read. Mostly historical. Yep, I love history. I love learning new words. I love learning.

With that being said, there are some words I just plain hate. Like hate. It is sharp and mean. Whimsical. What a great word. It is just as it sounds. And then obese. What a crappy word. it never even makes it out of your mouth. It just sits there until it's swallowed and left to rot with last nights prime rib dinner. Yuck! Another part of a word that does not mean good things is a doctor who ends in "ogist." It became very clear the first time I saw my rheumatologist. An older gentleman was asking how I was that day as we were sitting in the waiting room. The nurse called my name just as I was answering. When I got up and headed to the rheu's door, the man said, you can't be that great if you are going through that door.

Don't get me wrong. I am so grateful for ogists, but think about it. Ogists are specialized. Usually because something is not right. Except of course, anesthesiologists. I love them. They take pain away no matter the cause. And because my son in law is going to be one.

So, do words become their meaning, or does the meaning become the word? Hum...SO deep I know.

The same is true with people. You hear a name and there is a definition. Take Gordon B Hinckley. Master communicator, gentle giant. love for all mankind. Hitler. (What, right after Gordon B Hinckley) Evil, dark, wicked. Sick. (I've been reading WWII books and am loving them) George Bush....different for many. Here's a hot one...Sarah Palin. (I need to throw her in) Oprah and Ellen. Good souls. Sami, on Days. Whatever. Abe Lincoln. One of my hero's. etc etc. You get the idea. My friend Connie. Angel. Salt of the earth. unassuming. Loving. Service. And of course, runner.

So what is Shar Nelson going to be a definition for? Right now, probably sick. I don't want to be known as sick. But it's ok. I do the same thing. Hopefully music. I love music. Nature. Nature is spiritual to me. Of course family and friends and all those warm and fuzzy things. Really. Testimony of the Savior and His atonement. Even prankster. I love playing pranks and was pretty darn great at them. Man I came up with some good ones, or was involved with them. But I was usually too chicken to carry them out so I had my fall guys do that!

Heavy thought for the day. Making our names synonymous with what we hope they will mean. That is my goal.

Grateful for oxygen

2010-02-09T01:11:00.000-08:00

It was a beautiful day yesterday. I got to spend it at the docs office. I'm having surgery on Thurs, an open lung biopsy. I don't have to be filleted. Good. I have never liked fillets. Prime rib for me. I do have to stay in the hosp. until Sun or Mon. Not all bad. Do I hear morphine? JK! or not.

There were lots of runners out. Usually I would be jealous, or lately, smile. Neither today. I wanted to stop each one and tell them to be grateful. Don't take those miraculous lungs and heart for granted that pump life's energy throughout, that allows them to do what they love. But they will. I did. That's what we humans do. Until it's taken away. And that's OK. Just like my eyes way back when. Who is thankful for eyes that see perfectly? Not me, until I couldn't anymore. Or the very oxygen we breathe. Never did I thank the Lord for oxygen. But now I do. I don't have enough. And for doctors who figured it all out.

I'm sad right now. And that's OK. It won't last. I count my many blessings several times a day. Doing that can't keep me down for long. I have too much to be grateful for. Relationships, kindnesses, incredible outpouring of love and service. SOOO grateful that I still have it when I play the piano. Well, maybe not like in the past, but I'm just sayin!

And who says I can't go "running" in a sweet Jazzie! Yeah, not me either. Not yet. My oxy tanks and I are really getting along well. We might go slow, but I can see us out walking soon.

Phew!!! I made it..

2010-02-02T16:49:00.000-08:00

Nice! january is OVER! But I must admit, I had a new take on the whole miserable month due to the last comment I got. You are right Jennie Jo, Dec. would be a hard act to follow. And Jeff Judkins. What a pretty great guy. I'm sure I had a crush on him as well. As well as whom? Anyone pretty much. But he had such a cute smile. And it's OK. Cause he did marry Ron's old girlfriend.

As pretty much everyone knows by now, we got some pretty discouraging news about my health, or lack of it as the case may be. My family held a fast that people were involved in all over the US. and even outside the US. It was overwhelming and humbling. I have been carried by such a outpouring of love and support. Many friends and neighbors met at our home to open the fast with prayer. I walked in the room as everyone had arrived. I had neighbors that were not members of my faith. I had friends of friends that I don't know very well, and I had all my children. Not the soap opera mind you. My mother and father were there as well. Tears started streaming. What a lucky person I am.

But most of all, I need to pay tribute to the sweetest man who is my husband. Words could and will never express the love he has shown me. There are many many times during our adventures together, when he has deserved better. We have been through many tough things, like all I suppose, and I am forever grateful to his stubbornness to stick with me through thick and thin. And I'm not speaking weight of course! After 32+ years of marriage, I am more grateful now than ever. The fabric of our tapestry is so full of richness with threads of all colors and hues. It wouldn't be nearly as beautiful without all those different shades.

I love you and thank you my sweetheart.

january

2010-01-16T16:11:00.000-08:00

January and I don't get along. I don't even try anymore. I have come to grips that we have a hate hate relationship. What is there good about January? Not a darn thing as I see it. New beginnings. Whatever. New years resolutions. Stupid. Inversions. Hate. Air you can slice with a knife. Deadly. Skiing. I haven't been in years. But, that was one good thing about Jan. back in the day. I had a seasons pass every year and skied every Saturday. Fun. Actually, awesome.

But this January seems to be worse than ever. We just got the Christmas tree down last night. Man, isn't it weird how something you love becomes a "raspberry seed in your wisdom tooth"? SO annoying. I have been spending most of my days in bed, or at least on the couch. I have literally felt awful. It seems I can't take 10 steps without my muscles, or what I left of them, killing me. And so out of breath. I feel my body deteriorating in a hurry. I couldn't even make it to one of Curtis' b ball games last week. That never happens. I pray for patience. I've decided that isn't a good idea anymore. You know, the old, be careful what you pray for. Maybe I'll pray to start being grateful for January. I don't think so. i don't even want to be grateful to such a horrible excuse for a month. Our relationship is OVER! Unless, or course, I start skiing again. Then I'll think about it. But not until I get an apology.

Let's just blame my feeling so horrible on January. January doesn't even deserve to be capitalized anymore.

So, bring on Feb. and Valentines Day. Let's skip january altogether from now on. Yeah, that's what I'm going to do.

No spell check. january is NOT capitalized! even at the beginning of a sentence.

A New Normal

2009-12-07T05:11:00.000-08:00

I read an article on stigma. It told of a woman who was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. She gave insight into her new world. She told of how she attended the graduation of her grand daughter. It was held in a stadium. Upon getting in the stadium, she looked at the stairs wondering how she was going to make it up to her seat. And then the seat. How was she going to sit on a concrete, backless bench for 2+ hours. Then she would have to walk back down all the stairs one at a time, one stair-two feet, one stair-two feet, and so on and so on with bones that had stiffened so badly from sitting still that long. Her new normal, so abnormal, but her new normal none the less.

The article then told of stigma. There is a societal norm we all try to impossibly obtain. The perfect spouse and family, the perfect home that is always well kept, the perfect job, etc. etc. and of course the perfectly flawless body. And a body that is vital and healthy.

In Greece hundreds of years ago, stigma meant flawed. Anyone with physical abnormalities had their problem either burned or cut into their bodies so that everyone could see and know they were weird, flawed, different, damaged goods. Then the rest of "normal"society would know to stay away. They were persecuted and sent to live away in their own communities. I can't imagine the shame and sorrow they and their families must have felt. I would have been sent to one of those camps, though I know my family would have thrown spiked balls, rocks, or even themselves, at those trying to take me away. Or they would have come with me.

Damaged goods.. hum.. There was a man in my neighborhood growing up. He had MS. He was a brilliant man. Every Sunday I would say hello to him as he sat slumped over in his wheelchair. He couldn't talk but he would turn his ever sparkling eyes up as best he good, and with a smile, he would nod back acknowledging my presence. His wife would push him everywhere they went. It was quite the process as she would have to get his wheelchair in and out of the car, then into where ever they were going. The Durhams also had a daughter that passed away from scleroderma, a daughter who had a massive stroke in the prime of her life, early 20's, and a son-in-law who committed suicide.

Ron's bishop growing up has had to bury 4 of their children. Another dear friend of my parents, Don Stagg, was blind, had MS and later on, got cancer. This man completed law school after he went blind. His wife would read all his text books to him so I say, she became a lawyer as well. The ironic thing is that Janet, his wife, passed away before her husband, from a very fast cancer. A mother of a dear friend, who was so energetic and vital was diagnosed with Alzheimer's when Susie was first married. Susie's children never knew their grandma when she was so healthy. Susie never had a mom that could help with her children, or call and ask for advice, all those things mother's do.

There are hundreds of stories that we all have of people we looked at a little differently, either out of sorrow, empathy, pity, or whatever. And now I am one of them. I probably have been all along as many of the Nelson's trials have been so visible.

It has taken me a lot longer to put up Christmas decorations. I have needed much more help. As I was trying to get some boxes down, I called Ron to help me. My wrists wouldn't let me hold on as I needed to. I expressed my frustration and sadness to Ron saying how I hated that I am more dependent than ever now, that I didn't like this part of my life. He replied that this is my life, my new normal. I cried that night in the solitude of my room realizing that he was right.

Yesterday in church, I was asked if my calling as Primary chorister was too much for me to handle. There have been a few times where I have gotten sick and dizzy while I was standing and singing. I would have to stop waving my arm, lean on the table. I don't know if it is too much, but what I do know, is that it is one of my all time favorite things to do in the church. A place I can really make a difference. I LOVE it! But now that I am damaged, people wonder, and I guess I do too. I don't want to be put out to pasture. I NEED to be involved, actively engaged.

All of the people above are hero's to me, examples of perseverance and faithfulness, come what may. I have no doubt that all are, or will be, those in the after life, whom we will look at in awe and wonder, and wish that we could have had the earthly experiences they had to have received the blessings they have received.

And aren't we all damaged goods after all? I say we are. What do you have branded on your body? Some of those stigmas are more visible than others. We are all in this together. I feel the power and strength that comes through prayer. Prayer from friends, but mostly family. I feel the love of a mother and father who have given and sacrificed all they have for me, and all their children. I feel the love and concern that comes from dedicated, loving children. And a spouse who must go through those alone times as well, wondering what the future has in store.

But mostly I feel the love from a Father and Son, whose birth we celebrate. It is my prayer that at this Christmas time I may focus on all I have been blessed with, all I can do, my new normal.

Thanksgiving garbage

2009-11-20T02:56:00.000-08:00

Curtis is a fan of Seinfeld. So am I. Curt has Kramer, George, and Jerry down to a tee. Though I think my favorites are George's parents. Nils used to be but not since his mission so much. He has better grown -up, responsible things to do now.

One of my favorite episodes is where George is at his girl friend's parents home for dinner. He goes into the kitchen and much to his horror, he sees a perfectly good, only one-bite-eaten- out-of-it (K, maybe 2 or 3) yummy, gooey, creamy, chocolaty eclair sitting there IN the garbage can! After staring at it for what seemed like hours, he did what any normal human being would do. He reached in, took it out, and began eating it. You guessed it. Just as he took that heavenly bite, in walks his girl friend's mom. The rest of the story is awesome, listening to George trying to hilariously justify his garbage eating position.

I worked at Nordstrom for just over 10 years. (There will be some upcoming blogs on the joys of working under a direct descendant of Hitler) Did any of you experience the rice krispie treats from the E bar? They were not just any RK treats. They were about 6 inches high. You could get them with or without a layer of rich and creamy milk chocolate. I always got the later.

I was on the closing shift one night in the hosiery department which could be covered by half a person, but since those were hard to come by, I would have to do. There, sitting IN the garbage was, you guessed it, a RK treat! It was still kind of wrapped up, kind of. The only exposed part was where a teeny, tiny, itty, bitty, little bite had been taken out. I looked to my left, I looked to my right, I looked in back, and of course ahead for any sign of anyone. Hey, I was starving! and even if I hadn't been, I still would have eaten it. And man was it good!

With Thanksgiving less than a week away, I imagine there will be lots of great garbage available to only the bravest of us all. Here is my advice: wait until everyone is in that post turkey tryptophan stupor. Then be the good servant and volunteer for kitchen duty. Insist on doing it without any help. You will have the garbage all to yourself. Then.....Have at it!

Come on. I know you eat garbage too!

Texting..

2009-11-18T04:09:00.000-08:00

I had a great birthday. I drove to Levan where I spent the night with a dear friend and then taught a mini class in her RS on making pecan rolls. It was great spending time with Paula and Annie though we didn't get a lot of time to ourselves. Nils and Paula's son Collin, are roomies at Utah State. We go back about 30 years. I drove home in a blizzard, well, maybe not that bad but bad enough that there were cars off the freeway and a few that had turned upside down. That night we went with several couples to Cheesecake Factory for dinner. It dawned on me that everyone we went with had to get babysitters. Hum. We should have gone to Chuck A Rama. Isn't that where old people go? My dad, Tolman and I like Chuck -A. My dad's 85, Tolman is 5, and I am somehwere in the middle. Hum again.

Great weekend, except that I haven't been feeling well. Ron could tell, sitting across from me at dinner. I hope no one else could.

As I was leading the music in Primary, I had to sit on the table up front and stop waving my arms. I couldn't lead at all in senior as I felt too sick. I woke up Monday morning feeling pretty bad and it lasted throughout the day. I had a feeling it was my blood pressure. It has continually gone up for the last 3 months. To make a long story short, I was at the doctor's office before they opened. I didn't want to wait. My BP was high but not ER dangerous high. Other than that, all my vitals were fine. Then he did an EKG. It is my 3rd or 4th one since June. The doc came in the room and said it indicated I had had a heart attack at some point. Sometimes the abnormal reading can mean something else. I'm going to a heart clinic this morning for a stress test and echo cardiogram, which I believe is an ultra sound of the heart. Stress test?! Of course I've been stressed! But no longer. Sami finally found out that Sydney is hers! Oh happy day!

Now what. First of all, we called Jami on the way home to let her know the news and that I wouldn't be up for tending. Ron let Curtis know. So what did I do? A dumb idiot thing. I texted the rest of my kids. This is not news that should be sent via text. And poor Jame gets the phone calls from frantic sibs. WHY did I do that! I had a hard enough time telling my mom the news. We both started crying.

Texting. No emotion. Matter of fact. No personality. Control. Convenient. All of the above and more. Not a good way to communicate. In fact, does it count as communicating? Some things can be communicated appropriately through technology, where clearly, other things just should not be.

So, I am sorry to my family for being a dork. I can make excuses but it just wasn't right. It is just that some things are easier to type than to say out loud. But I won't make that mistake again. I promise.

Guilty pleasure

2009-11-13T07:35:00.000-08:00

Finally! Sami found out that Sydney is her baby! Now what. Sue-a might be in the very near future for Nicole. She is crazy anyway, or maybe she will just disappear, possibly with Stefeno. Or EJ might have them both taken out. I would! What the heck! Now the big question: Will Sami and EJ get back together? I hope not. Rafe and Sami are the cutest couple!

Now, much more inconsequential news. No transplant, at least not now. I'm kind of in a catch 22. My doc doesn't recommend a transplant at this time. I was pretty bummed, as my left eye is doing so well. I would like to get it done and over with. That has changed from my April appointment, before we knew about MCTD. I am on too many meds, some that could make rejection a higher risk, and prednisone that messes with eyesight. What doesn't prednisone do! the miracle drug from hell as a good friend calls it. Puffy face, brittle bones, sleeplessness, just to name a few. But, I can move because of it. The doc can get me seeing really quite well with the right prescription. The problem is, is that I have to be on a steady, consistent dose of prednisone. My eyes need to be at a stable point. I am grateful for great doctors who listen and care. My eye doctor has been with me for 30 years. He is incredible!

After my appointment I went to the music store. I wanted to see if there were any great Christmas piano solos. I have tons of music. I wanted something new. Nope. There wasn't. Mostly too easy and cheesy. I would love to take the time and do my own arrangements of lots of things. Good idea. I asked our music person if I could play in church. I want and need some incentive to start playing again. Playing hurts my hands. I'm afraid if I don't keep going, I may loose the ability to play at all. That would be tragic for me. So, if anyone needs an accompanist, or a Christmas solo for church, call me. I am starting to teach piano the first of the year as well. I am so stoked!

Off to Levan to have a sleepover with my friend.

update..

2009-11-12T07:49:00.000-08:00

I have been on edge lately. I have been feeling like my home is dirty and unorganized, too much stuff. So I have been a cleaning maniac in my sick sort of way. I don't have the energy to do what I used to do. My joints hurt and won't let me move like I used to as well.

I am going to my eye doctor today to see about my 4th, and hopefully final cornea transplant. When I saw him last April, he said my right cornea had thinned out way too much and that a new one would be needed. He thought I could hold it off for another year but because of all the meds I'm on, I will need it ASAP. I'll find out today.

I had a great time with my g-kids last night. They brighten my day and lighten my load. I am so grateful for my darling children who love and support me, and each other as well.

It has been a big week with Curtis' b-ball try-outs and all the drama that has come with drama, aka, the lead he got in the school play but was not able to do because of b-ball. Ron and I feel like they could have worked with him a bit. Oh well. Lots of decisions and choices.

Lots of thoughts with my b-day approaching. Also Jami and Curtis'. More on that subject later.

Happy Harvest!

So on and so on.....

2009-11-06T03:20:00.000-08:00

Feeling a bit useless.
So many things I want to do.
Craving a purpose.
Taking up space.
Seminary teaching of the evils of gayness.
A brother who loves and adores his sister.
A family who loves and supports unconditionally. " True Christlike love" as Elder Ballard told her.
Basketball or a lead in the play.
Why can't he do both.
Fear, not of death, but of living painfully in body, but mostly soul.
Depression/sadness.
Another transplant before the end of the year most likely.
Why do I have to be sick during my favorite season.
Pushing and pushing.
Mental exhaustion.
So on and so on.

Chalk it up to a bad week.

Less stuff, more life

2009-10-26T04:03:00.000-07:00

I watched a fascinating show where Oprah went to different parts of the world to see how other people live. The most fascinating to me was Copenhagen Denmark. They are supposedly the happiest people on earth. One of the couples interviewed had 3 children, a pair of twins, and then one other child. Upon asking where the twins were, she was told they were out in the court, (sidewalk in our terms) taking a nap. Oprah was flaberghasted, as was I, that parents can leave their children unattended and not fear for the craziness that happens in the states. They are taxed 15% which got into the health issues of the country. None of them had ever seen any homeless people, and there is not much difference in the classes. People choose a profession based on their talents and interests, not on what a paycheck would be. Most of employees are out the door by 4 pm, 5 at the latest, to spend time with their families. They are not a religious people in the traditional sense. Only one of the women interviewed believed in a God. They don't believe in marriage so much, it is "just a piece of paper".

Their lives are very simple. And the most interesting to me was how small, tiny really, their living quarters are, but very nice. One of the women had a shower as part of the sitting area, or in our terms, living room. It had clear glass doors! I envisioned me living there taking a shower. I am still having nightmares! The decor was functional, and that was it. Their refrigerators were small as well, as part of the daily routine is going to the market, thus, their diets are very healthy and fresh. When Oprah commented on the simplicity of their homes, the reply was "less stuff, more life". I loved that! Except that I looked at everything I am surrounded by and felt suffocated by all my needless junk!

It is past time to do some serious shoveling out. I need to surround myself in simplicity. Too much stuff.

I loved seeing how others live around the world. I am grateful for the country I live in but also believe that there is much to be learned from others around the world.

I think I'll go clean out closets or maybe unpack some boxes that have been sitting downstairs since we moved. Come on. I know you have some too! Oh stuff it! I'm going back to bed.

Symptoms

2009-10-22T10:17:00.000-07:00

Ron and I were talking this morning of one of the symptoms associated with MCTD. (See #3) There are many, some more serious than others. I have listed some of them in earlier posts but I thought I should list some of the MOST serious, just for awareness and maybe some understanding.

Here goes:
Naught remembering how to spell, i.e. brane kramps.
Very important naught to EVER diet again!
New meaning to the frase, " Not this month dear. I have a headache." (#3)

Severe allergic reactions to many things such as:
Dusting
Making dinner or any cooking period.
Organizing closets. Actually anything for that matter.
Believe it or not, shopping! (Ron thought he'd NEVER see the day)
Cleaning out kitchen cupboards.
Mopping floors.

Also, there are many things proven to make the disease go into remission.
Make sure to eat as much chocolate as possible.
Have music playing loudly all the time.
It is very important that Ron, Curtis and I go out to dinner lots.
Travel is proven to slow down the progression, especially, well, anywhere an airplane is involved.
Doing whatever I want to do every single day.
Eating whatever I want every single day.
Getting a dog. (Really Ron. I KNOW I read that somewhere)
Make sure to keep on top of "Days of Our Lives". I mean, what is Nicole going to do? And when is Sami going to find out the truth about her baby she thought had died that Nicole adopted and everyone just found out is Mia's,(but really isn't) and Chad wants now that he just found out he's the dad?! And I thought I had it rough!

This is just to name a few. I'm sure I will think, I mean, find out about others as time goes on.

Seriously. What?!

Stages of Grief..

2009-10-20T07:48:00.000-07:00

It seems as though I haven't had much to say. My mind has been too busy trying to process too many things. First of all, I was able to go to Seattle to visit Chel. I had such a great time. We didn't sight see. We just spent time with each other walking, biking, and lots of talking. The highlight was getting to see my new grand-doggy! Harley is so cute! I am glad Chels got a dog. Everyone needs a dog, but especially Chel. Seattle is so beautiful! Green is everywhere. We walked on a path that was more like a tunnel of green. Just 10 yards from her place is a beautiful little river. I was so nourished by it's beauty.

On the plane ride over, I was all of a sudden struck with reality. I felt quite horrible the day I left and as I was waiting to board the plane, I looked around at all the people. I wondered how many others were like me. I wanted to jump up and down and scream at the top of my lungs, "I might look normal but I'm not. I'm sick and I feel awful!" It then hit me like a ton of bricks. How ironic. First my husband and now me. How is it that we both have auto immune diseases? How can that be?

I came across the 5 stages of grief. Grief is oftentimes misunderstood. Grief can be the loss of anything. And in my case, it is the loss of my health, the loss of what I thought my future would be and the reality of what it is now. The stages are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. They don't necessarily go in any order. And you don't always experience every one. I'm in the pissed off stage. I guess that is anger. I go in and out of the denial as well. I don't believe many times. There is no way my antibody levels were at 10,200+ when normal levels are from 0-80. Even the U of U doctor had a hard time believing those numbers until he ran them again. What the heck, and how many years have they been off the charts? Why didn't my other doc think to run some of those tests when I kept going in saying something wasn't right? Would it have made any difference anyway? Why is it that one day I can feel OK and the next, I can't get my head off the pillow? Why do I have to look like a monster besides all the other stuff? (My family hates it when I say I look like a monster) My teeth are even affected. Ron can always tell bad days because my whole body swells up.

Yep, I'm in the anger stage all right and I think that's OK. I fight when I'm angry. I don't know about the other stages. I have been told that I need to get to acceptance. Maybe. I just don't know how.

I guess I am having a down time as well. I try to stay up all the time for my family, and for me. But I am sad. What stage is sad? It isn't really depression I don't think. It is just feeling really sad. I hope I don't feel pity. I don't want pity. I think there should be an overwhelmed stage. Yeah, I feel overwhelmed.

Seattle was great. It made me realize how important it is to get out of our ruts. I used to do it by running, playing the piano, and even making dolls. I have to find a rut-getter-outter I can do several times a week.

And maybe I need to get to acceptance.

Thankfulness

2009-09-29T01:16:00.000-07:00

Sunday was an incredible day. I had 3 birthdays to celebrate and the day ended with Ron inviting several friends over to give me a blessing. More on that to come. My BFF growing up, Kate Date as she is affectionately known. Kate lives in Texas so I never get to see her. She is an incredible musician. She plays the piano and has a beautiful voice. But my favorite is her mastery of the cello. We grew up playing together, she on the cello and me accompanying her. Our mom's even made us matching dresses and bought us matching red shoes when we were in 4th grade for some performance somewhere. I love you Kate Date!

My baby bro, Stephen Preston, turned 45. He is 8 years younger than I. We were very close. Nils' middle name is Stephen, after my bro. Steve lives in Boston and I rarely get to see him. He has a beautiful wife and 4 gorgeous children. They came to visit this summer and it was so great to see him. I marvel at his fathering skills. He and Heather are such great parents. Love you Steve, and I have got to get back to see your new home!

The 3rd b-day is our baby Andy. He was born 16 years ago. He is always in the back of my mind, but the beautiful fall time of year, brings him to the fore front of my thoughts.

The Sunday meetings were all so uplifting and motivating. But the one thing that stood out, was the beautiful closing prayer that was offered in RS. It was a sermon in and of itself. The Spirit was so strong. We were all taught well.

The day ended with Ron inviting several men over to give me a blessing. It was so powerful and strong. I am trying to remember and record the thoughts I had. I had such a powerful feeling of peace. I wasn't told I would get well, but was given counsel on dealing with this life changing adventure.

One of the women suggested that Curtis have a blessing as well. I will be forever grateful for her inspiration. Many of his hero's were there, his young men's leaders. He so loves and admires them. Ron asked Greg Fawson, his scout leader to offer the blessing. Greg has been through an incredible last month and a half, with his darling Chantel. Chantel should really not be alive. They have been through so much, and I can only imagine the alone times Greg had as he could only witness the pains his sweetheart was going through. In a nutshell, she has had a chunk of her skull taken out, and her brain operated on to fix the problem. Everything about this experience has been nothing short of miraculous! Anyway, one of the first things Greg said to Curtis, is that there are guardian angels surrounding him to bear him up. I know that Curtis' special angel is his big bro, Andy. Thank you Greg, for your righteousness and inspiration.

Curtis and I were lying in bed talking the day over. He expressed thankfulness for living in such a great neighborhood with so many great friends. The Priesthood blessings that were offered, brought him, and me, so much needed comfort and peace. I am so grateful to the many adult examples of Christlike living. I am so grateful to his great friends, and to their parents. Thank you for looking out for my son.

I am so grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ. I know He lives. I know He loves me. I know He knows all the thoughts and feelings of my heart. I know He knows the physical and mental pains I am going through, and that I will yet go through. He can succor me and bless me. He can show me the way. I am so grateful for the plan of salvation so I can live with Him again. I am a very blessed woman.

I have so much to live for, so much to look forward to. And through all the love and support coming the Nelson's way, I am going to be OK. And so will the rest of our family.

Thank you.

I hope and I pray

2009-09-25T04:49:00.000-07:00

Ron, Jess, and Curt are running a 5K tomorrow. It is fun listening to them talk about the event. There are races every weekend. That is what I used to do. Connie and I would look at the race calender and plan our Saturday's around those races. We loved it! Even if we didn't, we did. My dream was to run a race preferably a marathon, with my children. Now they are all running and I am sitting on the sideline. I don't like my new spot as a spectator.

Last Thanksgiving, my dream came true. My whole family, including Ron and I, got up early, and ran a 5K! It was perfect! I was in heaven! Why do I love that so much? I felt good as well. I was still on pain pills, and the thought is that they were masking symptoms of this disease.

I've had a really tough week. I try to be strong and not let on too much how I'm really feeling. I'm scared, as I feel my body being ravaged. The methotrexate really kicked my butt! I am trying to figure what days would be best to be sick and plan the dosage accordingly. I think I will try Sunday night so I can be OK by mid week. I will make sure I don't run out of the prednisone again.

I hope and pray that the meds hurry and do what they are supposed to do. I hope and pray that this unwelcome intruder will hurry into a remission. I have a race to get ready for this Thanksgiving!

Good Morning

2009-09-23T05:43:00.000-07:00

I ran out of my prednisone yesterday and it is amazing the difference taking that medication from hell, makes. I'm only 1 pill behind yet I woke up in the middle of the night in quite a bit more pain. And, I am much more stiff this morning. Not to worry. I will get more today.

Though I woke up in pain, I was SO grateful I didn't need pain pills to get me going. Back in addiction days, that's what I would do first thing in the morning. Take a pill. If not, I would feel quite awful.

I would so much rather have the pains I have now than all the pains that come with addiction. I don't know what the future has in store for me, but whatever that is, I will face it with a clear mind. I am grateful.

That's all.

Midway

2009-09-22T02:59:00.000-07:00

I would like to comment on my appointment with my rheumatologist yesterday. I would like to tell everyone my experience with the lab tech, as she was such a dork. Instead, I am going to get positive and write about something much more important, my weekend of cheering for Jessica and Ron as they competed in their first triathlon, having my g-babies stay over night, and my sleep-over with Jami and her doll babies at the Zermatt in Midway.

Ron and Jess have trained for many months, swimming, biking, and running. They both are inspirations, as they worked and worked and worked to achieve this goal. overcoming many obstacles and set backs, but never, ever giving up! Way to go you two!

Jami and Dave got to go on a much needed and deserved get-away to the Zermatt in Midway, Utah. Ron and I used to do that all the time, and they were great! And, I got to have Tolman and Addison. Sunday after church, I couldn't find Addi's bink anywhere. I was exhausted and finally plopped on my bed and said, "Addi, I can't find your binki anywhere and I'm too tired to look any more." She burst into song singing, "Don't stop. Just keep on trying. Don't every give up." I laughed and laughed, but still didn't get up to keep looking! (PS. I finally found the bink stuffed in the bottom of her pillow case) This little 2 1/2 year old is so dang funny! She has such an adorable, quirky personality.

I drove the kiddos up to meet Jami and spend Sunday night with her, as Dave had to be back to work early Monday morning. I can't explain how great it was on all levels. Ron's father bought a little home on main street Midway about 40 years ago. They worked and worked on that little home for years and years, renovating and restoring it until it became a little piece of heaven, where I would often escape to with or without friends. I fell in love with Midway! I wish I had the talent of writing so I could describe the beauty, and the feelings of my heart when I entered Heber Valley. But I don't, so I will just say that any worries, anxieties, fears, or insecurities, all but disappeared whenever I would go, and I went often.

I loved driving Tol and Addi by the historical home on main street. I loved telling them about the birthday parties their mommy had with all her friends. About the big back-seat -of -a -car swing the neighbors had. Tol wanted to go see it, and possibly swing on it as well, just like his mom did when she was his age. I drove by the Timp Freeze and told them of the great soft-serve sherbet cones they had, with little plastic monkeys, and other animals, that they would put on top. I wanted to drive the 12 mile route where I took Curtis on a walk when he was 5 months old. He and I stayed there for a whole week! I ran my very first race, a 10K at Swiss Days, probably 25 years ago. Midway introduced me to my love of running. I wanted to jump out of the car and run it again. When Ron and I were dating, we would make a picnic, get a blanket, and go eat it by the river. I think we made out some as well. No, actually, I know we did! I don't know. Maybe we read scriptures. Yeah. That's what we did, I'm sure. Fun times!

Ron's 3 brothers bought the home from their dad and his partner, many years ago. We were not able to, as we were not in a financial position to do so. I never went again. My heart ached as I tucked my little sanctuary deep into the place where sacred memories reside.

The Zermatt is an A #1 classy resort. Many of the restaurants have won Best of State, and the food was delicious! But more delicious than the food, was being with Jami and her children. My heart was filled with joy as I watched my baby mother her babies! I loved watching the children pull the shades up and down, playing in the jet-tube yelling, "Gram! Come and watch me!", going out on the deck with heart shaped cut-outs in the wood railing to look at the little goats on the hillside, and the beautiful flowers in the window boxes, riding on the carousel, and purchasing milk-bone dog biscuits to feed the little goats.

After checking out, we played miniature golf. It was Tolman's first time. He got the hang of it and had a great time. Addi did her own thing with the ball and club. She loved holding the putter upside down, and putting with the handle. After the golf, we bought some yummy gelato to enjoy. Addi got the pink flavor. She loves anything pink and princess!

It was time to go home, as I as meeting Ron down town, as he was going to Logan with me, to my doctor's appointment.

I'm going to end this here, as I will get to the visit with the doctor later. Thank you Jami, for letting me experience the joy of memories from the past, and memories made for the future. I love you so much.

My bucket list..

2009-09-16T11:08:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning ready to tackle the world. I even put my running shoes on. But, my body had other plans. I have started methotrexate, a medicine that was commonly used for chemotherapy, thus many of the chemo side effects. i think that could be my problem today. So, I did what I always do when my body is being stubborn. I took a hot bubble bath.

I sat in the bath, closed my eyes, and went on some wonderful adventures. I dare say that pictures with a camera could not have been more beautiful! I came back to my bubbly retreat and started my new bucket list. Here goes:

1. Make a sanctuary of my master bedroom and bath, simply by just that, simplifying. And painting some soothing colors. (K, maybe more of a goal)
2. Have a private piano recital. I have always wanted to do that.
3. Run, jump, jog, walk, crawl, whatever, however, the St George marathon when I turn 55, 2 more years, with some or all of my children. Can you think of a better way to celebrate? Not me.
4. Learn a foreign language, preferably Italian or French, though Spanish would be more practical. Who cares about practical!
5. Go on an Alaskan cruise, but only if we could go on adventures off the ship for days at a time. Or, just go to Alaska without the cruise.
6. Visit all the beautiful castles in Scotland and Ireland, and visit Lewelyn's grave. I fell in love with the history, especially the incredibly strong and courageous women in the historical novels by Sharon Kaye Penman. You can borrow them if you want. (Thanks Connie!)
7. Go on a biking tour of the New England States, or Canada.
8. Hike to Havasupai.
9. Go skydiving without someone strapped to my back. (Kind of scared for that) I promise to open the shoot Ron!

I think that's a good start for now. I'll add to it later. But I better get busy. I need to go practice the piano.

The man in the hole

2009-09-14T12:43:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was very humbling. I had lots of friends and family fasting and praying for me. The bishop also announced in church to keep "Sister Nelson in your prayers..". It was also announced in Relief Society. And to hear my name in a prayer was very humbling. And I must say, I learned a great lesson. It is so much tougher being on the receiving end of service. I was uncomfortable being prayed for publicly. But very grateful, for I know that there is power in prayers offered in unity.

So the latest diagnosis is going down a direction called mixed connective tissue disease, or MCTD for short. I don't know much about it other that what I have read on the Internet. I think the concern will be the extent of damage to internal organs. I think they are fine. I will be finding out with more tests I'm sure.

I am feeling many different things. Of course I am sad. Sad for what I thought my life after pills would be like. But mostly sad for the toll this is taking on my family. I can deal with what comes my way, but I keep thinking it isn't fair for my children to have to go through yet one more trial. The girls grew up not knowing or thinking that their dad would live to see his 50th birthday. I didn't either. It was very hard on them. They had so many responsibilities not put on too many children. I sometimes wonder how much more they can take. But, they became so close as a result. They have had so many trials other than family illnesses. They are tough. They are strong, But more important than anything, they all have been taught about the Atonement, our Savior's love for them and that there are not any trials we have to go through alone.

There is a story I am stealing from my friend. It is about a man who fell into a deep dark hole. Try as he might, he could not get out. A doctor walked by and saw the man. He wrote out a prescription and threw it down the hole. A preacher walked by and threw down a prayer. Another man came along and jumped in the hole with him. The man said, "Oh great! Now we are both stuck!" The other man replied, " No, I have been down here before so I can show you the way out."

The Savior can show us the way out of any hole we my be in, because he has literally been there. He conquered, and he can show us how to conquer if we let him. How much tougher our trials would be if we didn't have this knowledge.

And for that knowledge, I am so very grateful.

The summer of sick

2009-09-11T04:17:00.000-07:00

So many thoughts swirling everywhere in my brain. Trying to organize them seems rather impossible at the moment.

How funny that this getting of pills blog has taken a huge detour. I haven't written about pills for some time as they have not been on my mind at all. Until yesterday. It is very clear to me why getting of pills has been next to impossible in past attempts. Even when I was in rehab. I never felt good. Not only that, but felt quite bad. I always wondered why, when everyone else was on many kinds of drugs and much more potent. I'm not a wimpy person. What was going on? I was older they said. What about the 82 year old alcoholic? She did amazingly well. She wanted it more. She tried harder. She complied. That is what they said. I didn't know how to try any harder. I didn't know how not to be sick. I kept going. Until I got home and had to go back to work. I wish I knew the number of times I told my doc. Something isn't right. Hypochondriac was his thought I'm sure. Run some routine blood tests. Always normal. I was sick in the head. More pills will get her out of the office. More refills as well. That way he wouldn't have to deal with me for many months. I don't blame him. Most of these tests are very rare. A doctor has to be very aggressive. Maybe my symptoms were just too vague.

Getting to the bottom of all this has been quite the journey. I'm OK. Nothing scares me. There are miracles happening everywhere. I'm grateful I have had this summer to be sick. Knowledge is power. Now that i have the knowledge, I can fight and fight and fight and fight.

Bring it on!

The phone call

2009-09-09T00:05:00.000-07:00

I got a call from the doc today. It went something like this: Hello. Hello. Is this Sharon? Yes it is. We got the results from your tests Your ANA test was high which means you have an auto immune disease The Doctor wants to start you on Methotrexate 4 pills once a week Do you take vitamins Could you hold for a minute The doc is also going to have you take a perscription of folic acid What pharmacy do you use Do you have the phone number You also need to go in for more tests I have worked for Dr Walker for 3 years and I am not familiar with these tests but I'll ask him what he is looking for We need to see you in 3 weeks.

I didn't hear much of what she just said. ANA. Auto immune disease. Methotrexate. 4 pills once a week. More tests. I asked her if she would mind repeating what she just said. She did. I thought I listened. I asked her for a third time to please clarify what she had just said 2 previous times. Her nice voice had a little edge to it now. I don't blame her. She had a job to do. More victims to call.

I had so many questions. Why more tests? What is he looking for now? Folic acid? Prescription? I didn't know folic acid came in a prescription. What about rheumatoid arthritis? Lupus? Scleroderma? What? What about my elbow that won't bend enough to let my right hand reach my mouth to eat? or brush my teeth? or take off an earring? or necklace? That just started yesterday. Just double up on your prednisone. Can I take the prednisone with the methotrxate? It's just fine. Fine for who? What about long term? I'll get back to you on the tests. Come to the lab on the 3rd floor. I am from South Jordan. Can I get them in Salt Lake? Go to IMC, the Eccles building. I faxed the order in. It may take up to 2 weeks to get the results. He is looking for Lupus. Does that rule out scleroderma? I don't know what that answer is. I hope and pray they aren't looking for that, or that it was ruled out. It is bad. Deadly bad.

The great thing about being down is that there is only one way to go. Up.

Lessons

2009-09-06T16:13:00.000-07:00

There was a fascinating 2 page spread in today's SL tribune. It was the story of a man who was critically injured in a bike accident last November. He is basically a quadriplegic. This man was a professor of English at the U of U. He loved the out of doors spending much of his free time surrounded by it's magnificence and beauty. He took nourishment and strength from the lessons that only nature can teach. He loved pushing his body, past it's limits sometimes, in all kinds of adventures. That all changed in a split second.

He told of the many lessons he has learned from being very independent, to now being dependant for even each breath he takes. He was asked if he would trade dressing, feeding, breathing, walking himself, you name it, in place of the lessons he has learned. He said, "I'd give up physical autonomy . I have learned the depth of compassion and friendship."

My honey and I went on a 2+ mile walk around the lake last night. It was great on so many levels. Ron told me of all the running routes he takes and how many miles they are. He stopped several times to assess yardage from point A to point B.

I also felt somewhat sad, as that is what I used to do all the time. I used to have sooo many running routes with all of the corresponding mileage. I asked Ron if he thought I would ever run again. He isn't sure. I'm not either I guess, as my feet, ankles, knees, even toes, were cramping up.

Would I give up lessons learned from trials experienced? Interesting. Because of my addiction, my children are all very cautious, paranoid almost, of taking any medications. I'm grateful for addiction. Our children had to lean on each other during the years and years of their dad's illnesses. They all support and love each in all they are and do. I'll take it. Losing Andy brought us Curtis. You all know the answer to that. With that came an empathy for women who can never have children. Corneal transplants blessed me with a deeper understanding of the atonement. Jami's car accident brought a dependence on the Savior I had not had. My prayers for my daughter, and a mother who lost her son, were never so fervent. I learned a better way of communicating with Deity. Having a daughter in turmoil to the point of contemplating suicide, taught me the deeper meaning of unconditional Christlike love.

There are other lessons I have learned from other experiences, and other experiences I have yet to learn from.

I don't know what I'll learn from RA. I am still in the denial stage. Do I wish I didn't have it? Yep, I do. The lessons will come later.

Side effects...

2009-09-03T04:33:00.000-07:00

Methotrexate..."Methotrexate is also used along with rest, physical therapy and sometimes other medications to treat severe active rheumatoid arthritis (RA; a condition in which the body attacks its own joints, causing pain, swelling, and loss of function) that cannot be controlled by certain other medications. Methotrexate can be well tolerated, but also can cause severe toxicity which is usually related to the dose taken. The most frequent reactions include mouth sores, stomach upset, and low white blood counts. Methotrexate can cause severe toxicity of the liver, kidneys and bone marrow, which require regular monitoring with blood tests. It can cause headache and drowsiness which may resolve if the dose is lowered. Methotrexate can cause itching, skin rash, dizziness, and hair loss. A dry, non-productive cough can be a result of rare lung toxicity." PS..It takes about 3 months to start working. Until that time, prednisone, another toxic miracle drug. oh joy.

Hum... I was able to get into a rheumatologist on Tuesday. The reality of this disease hit me between the eyes! I start the above mentioned medication next Tues., after the results of my blood work comes in so he knows what dose I can handle. After feeling the adequate sorrow of my newly discovered bodily malfunctions, it is time to go to work.

New goals, new dreams, new everything. Chalk it up to another adventure called life.

Memories...

2009-08-30T17:44:00.000-07:00

I loved being in church today. I was late for my sacrament so I snuck in another ward. I sat in the back. I had a clear view of everything that was going on. I found myself smiling as I watched mom's and dad's with their children. They would cradle the newborns cuddled against their chests. Wrestle with wiggly toddlers trying to keep them still. Shushing pre teens in an effort at being reverent. They would chase after those that had escaped the confines of the benches. I wondered what they would have done had one of their babes disappeared in back of the choir seats, and then stripped butt naked! like Chelsea did. I'm glad Chels got to give possibly the only moon ever displayed in the front of the chapel as I scooped up all her clothes and naked body, then briskly walked out! I was laughing the whole way. Good times. No, great times!

I can feel my body ravaged. I feel like an outsider watching helplessly as it gets worse everyday. I hold my breath trying to muster the strength after sitting down, to get in a standing position, as it hurts my knees so. I awaken in the middle of the night with hands that feel as though they have been frozen for decades, trying to break them free. It feels like my shoulders are going to pop out of joint just to support the weight of my arms. I take steps like my father does. He's 85.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude as I was watching in church today. I was grateful that I could cradle my children when they were babies. I was grateful I could chase them down the street for fun, or to save them from danger. I was grateful I could hike with them, throw them in the air, put them on my shoulders and play horsie. I was grateful I could walk down in their rooms and sit on their beds at night to read them stories or sing them a song. I'm grateful I could spank their behinds when they needed it. They didn't need it very often. I'm grateful I could load my 4 children in the van and take them to Brighton to teach them how to snow ski. I wasn't so grateful when they all started balling when they couldn't walk with their heavy ski boots on, and carry their equipment at the same time! I am grateful I could stand and stand and stand with pride, as it took Jessica 4 hours to ski to the bottom of Marys, the easiest run in all of Utah I think! I'm grateful I could keep up with Nils as he had NO fear and would ski straight from the top of the run, to the bottom, and that he would stop in the nick of time before killing himself of another skier. I'm grateful I was blessed with energy, health and strength beyond what any mother would normally have when I had to be both mom and dad. And that was many many many years.

Maybe I used it all up then. And that's OK. I'm grateful I had all I needed, and much more, when I really needed it.

How grateful I am that I could take care of my little ones, and not so little ones back then. I'm glad that my body waited until now to make even the smallest tasks, hard.

Yes, I loved being in church today. I am grateful for the trip God gave me down memory lane. I am grateful that I got to participate in all those adventures, and I have faith I will be back again. But if not, I have my memories.

Is God mad at me? I don't blame him. So am I.

2009-08-27T14:18:00.000-07:00

Has God finally had enough? Does he finally realize I was the one who didn't shout for joy at the thought of having a body? I know I know. No lectures here. I am very fortunate. I know that, but right now, not so much. Just humor me and give me this moment. It will pass.

I have spent the last 2 days in bed, not because I was sick, just sick in the head. I have had a bad case of feel sorry for me. My fingers look like sausages, my wrists deformed, my feet, knees and ankles have puffs of swollenness. Even my shoulders and toes hurt. But worst of all is my face. My neck looks like that of a linebacker continuing up to my cheeks with slits for eyes. All this whatever it is, rheumatoid arthritis they think, makes it painful to move. But, my stomach issues are gone! With that, my appetite is, sigh, back. Kinda mad about that. Actually, really mad.

So, now, a new adventure and reason to blog. Or to keep me accountable. Maybe it is my way of journaling. Whatever. Anyway, new goal. I need to get my weight as low as possible to take as much pressure off my joints. Funny. It's not just a cosmetic thing anymore. They are in enough trouble that I have no control over, without me adding to that. I need get my butt in gear and do some things. Time to start walking and walking and walking. Also, some kind of diet. I hate diets. I HATE DIETS! I have always lost weight after babies by running, refusing to go on some kind of structured diet. And, it has always done the trick, and got me addicted to the high of those great endorphins floating through my brain on those days I could have run forever and ever! Even on days the runs were not so great. I loved them all. I loved that I'd run mostly 6 days a week for 25 years.

That's what I'll do. Walk. I'll see where that takes me before I do some horrible thing like diet. Yeah, that's where I'll start.

And I thought getting off pain pills was hard. Oh, this adventure called life!

Ramblings of 9th grade...Go Hornets!

2009-08-26T02:44:00.000-07:00

Curtis starts 9th grade today. Can he really be that old?

I loved 9th grade. I remember Mr. Beards English class. Everyone dreaded Mr Beard as he was known to be really hard. He thought I was cute, so he liked me. So did Corey. If Corey could chase me around the room for 2 minutes and kiss me, he wouldn't have to take the dreaded Mythology test. If he couldn't catch me, I would get an A. He didn't catch me. I can't remember what Miss Hayes taught but she was a great teacher. She is Mrs. Hewlett now. She is also the g-ma of one of my neighbors. Small world. I stopped eating for awhile as I thought I was fat. I wasn't. We had early morning seminary back then. It wasn't released time. Poor Miss Gledhill. She was a horrible teacher but so fun to have if Kate was in the class as well. She would try to send Kate to the principals office. Kate would refuse to go. Miss Gledhill would try and drag her down but couldn't budge Kate. How we laughed. Poor Miss Gledhill. Poor any teacher that Kate didn't like but what a treat for the rest of us! Miss Mcbride had a train with candy in it. If the train stopped by your desk you got to take a piece. What did that have to do with learning how to type? Maybe that's why I never learned. I wore a light blue dress to graduation. Ms. Davis was my gym teacher. I even think she went by Ms. back then. She was a jock and so was I so she liked me. One Saturday I organized a group of about 15 boys and girls to ride our 10 speeds to the top of Big Cottonwood Canyon and back home again. Our bikes weighed as much as we did back then. Only Kate and I made it the whole way. The rolls and gravy! Hillside Jr. had the best rolls that melted in your mouth always hot from the oven. The cinnamon rolls as well. I didn't eat them very much. I would bring a thermos of some diet something usually. I was always on a diet. Stupid. And then there was Mrs. Schultz. She wore those really thick, black orthodic looking shoes. She seemed so old. I wonder if I am older now, than she was then. I hope not. She was the girls glee teacher. I loved glee. I was the accompanist. She liked that I could sight read and play whatever she wanted to teach the class. Why was it called glee and not choir? Hum. Mrs. Ray was my Home ec. teacher. She taught us about puberty and pimples. In Home ec? It seemed to fit together back then. She had one of those sicky sweet feminine voices that sounded like nails on a blackboard, but so fun to imitate. I remember when the Highland High Madrigals came and performed for an assembly. The boy ringing the bells for "Ring Bell" was really cute. I ended up marrying that cute boy. Who knew!

Yep, I loved 9th grade. I hope Curtis does too.

3 months almost..

2009-08-24T21:28:00.000-07:00

Good thing I flushed the rest of the pain pills from surgery as I probably would have taken some last week. That's the way I was feeling. And heaven knows, I was/am hurting. Only when I move though. Every joint in my body is stiff, swollen and sore. But the good news is that I called several rheumatologists on our insurance plan and found one in Logan that can see me in 3 weeks. I will be glad to get started on a treatment plan. I will be glad to get over this hurdle.

It is so interesting how so many things have come to light since getting off pain pills. My life is different than what I imagined at this point. I joke that I was better on pain pills. I sure got a lot more accomplished each day and I felt a heck of a lot better! Not mentally though. Every time I took a pill, I felt bad, guilty even. I knew I was better than that. I knew I deserved better than what I was doing.

I'm glad it will be 3 months next week. I'm glad I have made it this far. And I plan on another 3 months, and 3 more after that, and so on and so on.

Any more marathons.. I hope so.

2009-08-20T12:54:00.000-07:00

I am getting to know my doc way better than I had ever wanted to. I went to see him on Monday to try and get answers concerning not being able to move. He took xrays of my hands. The radiologist said I have inflammatory arthritis. There are many conditions that fall under that category none of which are good. It is an auto-immune disease with the likelihood of rheumatoid arthritis. The rheumatologist will figure all that out. I can't get in to see him for 3 months. Freak! 3 months? Are you kidding me! Oh well.

Upon hearing the news I had a bit of a break down, just for a day or two. I did what any daughter would do. I went to see my mom and dad. I had a sleep- over as a matter of fact. We spent the night talking and talking and talking, with a little bit of crying thrown in. We talked about everything, not just me, as that topic gets pretty boring. My mom reminded me of my patriarchal blessing. There is a part that speaks specifically of trials I will go through. My dad commented, How beautiful! What? How beautiful?! My choice of words would not have been beautiful. He got me thinking. It is beautiful, not what I would have chosen, but beautiful none the less.

There is a purpose in all we go through, both good and bad. The good parts are easy. The bad is where we grow and learn, become more like our Savior. That doesn't make these times any less hard, just endurable. Finding joy in the journey.

Whatever I have will not stop me. I might not be able to run another marathon, but don't count me out!

The work begins..

2009-08-12T12:03:00.000-07:00

Monday was quite a day. Jami called and reminded me that all the Nelson girl cousins were going to Ruth's diner, my favorite place, to celebrate Abbey and Summer's b-days. I decided to go and I am so glad I did. It's been too long since we have gotten together. I then met Ron at Kent and Pams so that Ron and Kent could give Mindy a blessing. She was going in for major back surgery the next day. Ron and I raced home to go to a movie. It was our 32nd wedding anniversary. On our way, we got a call from our bishop telling us that our dear and darling friend and neighbor, Chantel, had been life-flighted to the U of U. She woke up not feeling well, but to make a long story short, she started seizing caused by bleeding on the brain. She had just given birth to their 3rd baby a few days earlier. Ron and I ran up to the hospital where there were several other ward members. We spent several hours trying to find out the diagnosis.

There is a ward fast for the Fawsons going on right now. I believe that miracles have already taken place. I know the power that comes from unified prayers and fasting through the faith of many. I love you Chantel. Blahbity blah...! (Chantel went to St George with me on my B day. She loves that phrase!)

As I was laying in bed that night with an exhausted body, my mind said, no sleeping for you tonight..too many things to think about, figure out maybe. It kept kept going to my adorable niece. She has struggled with addiction for years and things are not going too well. I asked her point blank. I'm so worried for her and I wish I could do something. I wish someone could. But we all know the answer and help is only in one place, within.

My fasting and prayers are for so many. Of course for dear Chantel and the whole Fawson family. For Mindy that her back will become whole. For my sweet niece. For my nephew Ryan, who just had his 4th baby. I'm sure he is missing his mom, my sister right now, and wishing that she could be here to help. She died of a blood clot that went to her lungs, 5 years ago on the 9th. Maybe even for me right now as well. I haven't done anything for so long that I don't know where or when to start. I'm feeling a bit lost. What to do. I also have to realize that my body is recovering from surgery still. I need to keep taking it easy for awhile longer.

My days were all defined for me. Not anymore. I was so hopeful and up a few days ago. It seemed like the world was mine, I could do anything. I'll be there again. Oh the difference a good night's sleep and a new day makes!

All in all I am doing good. (Refer to last post) There will always be hard times and down days. Now the work begins.

So Happy, and on my way! Wha Whoooo!

2009-08-08T13:54:00.000-07:00

Here I am, so happy, really. And it feels so good. So good in fact, that I got out of bed around 5:30 and did way too much. Curtis has play practice all day so I made he and Ron a lunch, finished a long overdue thank you to the magical Kelly D. for helping us with some music, went out and weeded the garden, (just a few) and then took a nap. Then I decided to tackle Curtis' room. It not only needs tackling, but a whole freakin football team to get it in shape. (Wait, I would imagine football teams are pretty dirty and stinky!)

You know how one thing leads to another, well that's kind of what happened. And now I fear I am paying the price. But, it feels so great to not have that horrible whatever pain it was! I have the surgical pain, but only when I move. (oops! little too much moving) To show you how great my family is, last night I dropped a popsicle and could not bend over to pick it up. Me. Curits, will you pick up the popsicle for me? Curtis. Why don't you do it? Me. Because I can't. Curt. Why lazy! Me. It hurts my belly to bend over. C. Then get down on your knees! Oh such love in our family! Curt and I burst out laughing and that hurt my belly more! Last night we laid in bed, Curt and I, and he had me laughing so hard I thought I might do some major damage, but oh how much fun!

Family. How I love my family. Ron has continued to put up with a very onry wife, especially the last few weeks. I have really been on edge, I think mostly depressed. I haven't liked me too well, mostly. And then there are my kids. I already told you all the great things Curtis does. Jami came over and did her magic in my bedroom and bathroom. She washed my sheets and dusted, vacuumed..just made a great and CLEAN sanctuary that I can veg in for awhile. Jess, Chels, and Nils were all calling for updates and sending lots of prayers and love. Nils instigated a family fast for all those that could. He is such a spiritual rock for the family.

Then my mom and dad. I was at their home one week ago. I was laying on the back lawn while my 82 year old mom was working in the yard. Her back door neighbor noticed she needed some help. He came right over and took care of the chores. Feeling really stupid that the neighbor was thinking my mom had a pretty worthless, lazy daughter, I piped up and told him of the problems I was having. He is ahead of Primary Children's Med. Center. Anyway he said, I'll bet you 90% it is your gall bladder. I told him that I had had every test in the book but not one for that. Because of him and the great diagnostician he is, and being at my mom's that day, I believe I am finally going to be well. And I don't believe it just happened. Dr. Clark just "happened" to have that week off.

My 82 and 85 year old parents brought dinner out last night. How I love them. I have said over and over again how much I love them. You never get too old to not need your parents. I have never known anyone with the honor and integrity of my father. My mother is truly an angel who gets more and more angelic each day she takes a breath. It has hurt them so, to see their baby daughter suffering and feeling so helpless. I know how that feels.

I am so overwhelmed with the love, prayers, blessings, fasting, and everything else that has been done in my behalf. I am a very blessed woman to have the friends, neighbors, and family that I do. Thank you all. I am going to be running by the end of the summer! (K, maybe only a jog!)

Relief on it's way?

2009-08-06T20:14:00.000-07:00

It seems as though the problem has been my gall bladder all along so I am saying bye bye tomorrow! I am having it taken out. I am going in with high hopes of feeling much better post surgery. I might have surgical pain but that is very do-able compared to what I have been feeling.

There is the issue of pain management afterward. I let my surgeon know the hard work and great strides I have made these almost 9 weeks. I am not about to undo it all now. I could be in some sort of pain for maybe 2 days but no longer, or nothing that OTC's can't handle. I will have Ron close by post surgery as I will be groggy, so that he can yet again emphasize the importance of not prescribing narcotics, or at least not more than 3 or 4 pills, or maybe 2-3. The doc said I would probably need something the first day or two.

I have such high hopes of everything being ssoooooo much better by the end of the month, maybe even working out again. But if this process has taught me anything, it is that I know nothing. I'm just hoping and praying.

Wish me luck!

What to say

2009-08-02T12:33:00.000-07:00

It will be 8 weeks tomorrow. I should be incredibly happy. I would like to feel like I have, or am, conquering the world. I have felt like that before, but not in a long time. I wish I could say how much better my life is, how much better I feel and how I am working towards goals I have had for a long time.

But, I don't know what to say. I feel like I felt better on pills, that at least I had energy to get things accomplished, that my family had a mom a lot of the time, that I was able to tend a lot of times, that I could cook and clean all day if I wanted to, that I could go to a job and come home and do mom kind of things, that I could go out with Ron and Curtis to a movie or dinner, that I could spend time in my garden, that I could go visit Chel and see how she's doing. I worry about my Chel so much.

I can't and won't go back to pills. I have gone too far and I would have to do it all over again. I think it is much like divorce for a good friend of mine. In recalling the marriage gone bad, all she saw when it was over were the good times. Her ex was a toxic jerk. I would have to remind her every now and again. I think that is the way with pills, especially now that things such as health, are not so good.

Time goes so fast. I can't believe it is August already, even though the summer has gone so slowly in many ways. I know that I will get better, that I will be able to do the things I dream of, that I will be not only back to normal, but better than I have been in years.

I am glad it has been 2 months, though it seems that my resolve has been lacking lately. I know it will be 3, and then 4 months before I know it. Curtis will be back in school. That makes me sad. I love having him home. I always hated it when my kids went back, even after Christmas break. I loved having them home with me. I loved/love being a mom. Another topic for another day. I'm rambling. blah blah blah.

More tests tomorrow. Yipee!

My favorite time of the year

2009-07-29T14:09:00.000-07:00

I went for a scope and biopsy of my stomach yesterday. It will take about a week for the biopsy results to get back. Otherwise, the doc just saw an inflamed stomach, or lining. He was in a big hurry and I was groggy so I'm not exactly sure. He now wants me to get a CAT scan. I don't want to. I've already spent too much money as it is. I think I'll just take yet another medication I was given and see how that goes. This is getting old and really getting me down.

This has been the summer of the couch and bed and TV. It has been hard for me to stay positive and up this last couple of weeks. It seems as though I lied on my last post. I want to be at peace and hopeful, so I tell myself I am, you know, the ole' "fake it till you make it'. I am trying really hard to fake it. Maybe then I'll make it. Too many pressures of life it seems and I can't do anything about any of them. Too many worries.

Curtis is in a community play that keeps him busy. And of course being with friends as well. Ron is busy with work and having a lot of fun training everyday for a triathlon. He got to swim the course in Daybreak this morning and loved it! It brought me back to the days when I would come home high as a kite after a great run. I'm glad Ron and Curtis are busy and happy with their own lives right now. I'm glad they aren't home much, as I hate having them see me like this.

l'll be glad when this summer is over. It isn't what I expected but I hope in looking back, it will have been one of much personal growth. Right now it is just about endurance. I'm pretty good at enduring. As a good friend and neighbor said, Just pretend you are in the last 6 miles of the marathon. I agree. Maybe hitting the wall as well. I've hit the wall, now it's time to keep running through it.

Fall has always been my favorite time of the year anyway.

My Little White Companions

2009-07-24T07:02:00.000-07:00

It's not uncommon to find pills around here and there, even after you think you have gotten rid of them. I have found them in my closet, in pockets, in my purse. Only about 3. Today I got up and thought I would try on some jeans. I have lost about 25 lbs. Not too bad for just over 6 weeks! Anyway, as I reached in the pocket, there they were, another pill and a half, my little oval, white companions. You see, they have been with me for many, many years. I'm feeling like I should say they were hard to give up, that I was tempted for just a moment. But they weren't, and I wasn't. I didn't feel one way or another. I should maybe curse them, or yell, or stomp and scream, I don't know, just something to show how I hate them. But I didn't. I just ceremoniously flushed them down the toilet like I have with the others I have found.

I don't feel conflicted, or at war with myself anymore. I am not churning and anxious about what the next day has in store. I don't have too many expectations. I am not on a timeline anymore. I don't feel disappointment and regret on choices I have made. I am who I am, and I will be stronger and better.

I am slowly getting to a place of peacefulness and hope.

By the way, Happy Pioneer Day!

Happy Birthday My Sweet Sister

2009-07-22T13:08:00.000-07:00

Today would have been my sister Sue's 57th birthday. She passed away very suddenly 5 years ago this August, the 9th. I've been thinking about her a lot lately. As any anniversary of this sort rolls around, thoughts of good times past seem to occupy one's mind.

Sue was one of a kind. When she entered a room, everyone knew that she was there, the party could start. She made the best potatoes, the funeral kind. She always had the best holiday accessories from sox to goofy jewelery, with added hat, scarves, or whatever else it took to celebrate. If Sue had something on her mind, whether appropriate or not, she would bring it up. She didn't believe in, or have, many filters. I think we were all the recipients of that at one time or another. She had a heart as big as the world. If someone needed a place to stay, she would offer her home, even if she hardly knew the person. She had many "strays" living with her on and off, and didn't charge them a dime. She would have given the shirt off her back if someone said they needed it. She had unconditional love. She displayed that greatest of all loves, when she gave up her baby daughter for adoption. She wanted her daughter to have a mom and a dad. I hope I get to meet Joy someday to tell her about her biological mom. Sue never stopped loving Joy, or thinking about her.

But more than anything, she loved children. She would be the first to offer to babysit even if you didn't need a babysitter. She would be the first to see the babies at any family gathering, sometimes irritating the heck out of them. She would flip them upside down and then onto her shoulders. I could never do that.

But her greatest love of all was her son Ryan. She adored him! She lived for him. When life got too big for Sue to handle, she just thought of her son and he gave her strength to keep going. Ryan was just weeks away from having his first baby, Sue's first grandchild, when Sue died. It often broke my heart that she didn't get to experience in this life the one thing she loved more than anything, babies, and her own grand babies.

I miss you Sue, but I know that you are doing great! I KNOW that, and I know you are happy and at peace. Knowing that, brings me happiness and peace for you as well. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

6 Weeks

2009-07-20T10:37:00.000-07:00

It has been 6 weeks today. This is the longest I have made it without pills in a long, long time. It feels good.

It feels good, but I don't, not yet. It isn't withdrawal anymore. That was over a while ago. I am having major stomach issues. I think I know what it is. I had something called H pylori a few years ago and the symptoms are exactly the same. It is really painful. It hurts if my stomach is empty, it hurts if I eat. It is bloated and nauseated all the time. Funny how I am saying "it". I don't like to think that my stomach is a part of me right now.

I have a hard time staving off discouragement, even depression. It seems they want to be part of this whole process. I don't like these companions. It makes me think of people who are chronically ill. How do they do it? How do they remain positive and productive? How do they keep from just giving up and spending their days in bed? What makes them keep going and doing, even if it is just getting dressed everyday?

I was asking Ron how he did it when he was so sick everyday, for years and years. He replied that he never lost hope. During really hard times, he hoped that the next day would be better, he hoped that he would not be in a wheelchair, he hoped he could muster up the strength to make it to his kids events. Hope, hope and hope again. With hope comes faith as well.

I have hope and faith that the days will be better. I am not on a timeline anymore. I am happy to take this one day at a time. Maybe today will be better than yesterday. Maybe not. Maybe tomorrow will be better than today. Maybe not. Maybe this week will be better than last. Maybe not.

Through all this, I can't help but feel so grateful. Grateful for the most amazing friends and family. Friends that I haven't seen or talked to since high school have left amazing notes and words of encouragement. Neighbors that have come and planted flowers without being asked. Friends that have given blessings and offered prayers. Thank you all so much.

I have the most amazing family ever! We have been through so much. My children have all had a lifetime of struggles, experiences that have made them who they are, from a very young age. My mom and dad are true champions of unconditional love and support through some very difficult things. I thank the good Lord above that they are still with me.

I can't say enough about my sweet husband. We will have been married 32 years in a few weeks. Neither one of us knew what we would have in store. It is a proven fact that most marriages could not survive a fraction of what we have gone through. I am so humbled and grateful that we found each other. He is such a great man with so much to offer. Thank you honey, for all you do and are. I'd be lost without you! We are in this together and knowing that gives me strength and hope.

I'm So Proud!

2009-07-19T11:48:00.000-07:00

Ron came walking in the house after work yesterday and said rather sarcastically, "I've never been more proud!" He had something in his hand, When asking him why, he gave me a letter and a certificate from good ole' Daybreak whomever, that said we had been nominated for Yard of the Month. Just nominated, not elected. Oh what joy! What pride! What accomplishment! All my gardening dreams had come true with this one, well two, pieces of paper! There is nothing left on my gardening "bucket list" to accomplish now. The water feature I want, the pergola I want, the big backyard shade tree I want, the awning over the back porch I want, the hanging porch swing I want, the fire pit I want, all just so I can win yard of the month, I don't need anymore. I have been nominated! Now, what to do with the certificate of accomplishment. It is so official looking. Do I put it on the refrigerator? Do I frame it and hang it on the wall? Do I put it in my notes of "What to read at mom's funeral" in case the kids can't think of anything? Do I blow it up, make a banner out of it and fly it from my home instead of a flag?

Just so you know, gardening is my other addiction. Any money I can get my hands on goes to flowers. If there is ANY dirt showing, I need more flowers. If I walk by someone elses garden and they have a flower that I like, I want to sneak in the middle of the night and dig it up, steal it if you will. If I walk by a park that has something I like, you guessed it, I again. want to steal it. When I walk into a nursery a sensation that I can't control floods over and through me. I can't control myself. Before I know it, there are hundreds of dollars of flowers, shrubs, bushes, anything, that suddenly appear in my cart!

My corner neighbor actually was nominated and WON yard of the month. They got a sign that told the world that they had won. I bet they got a certificate as well!

I just couldn't take it anymore. The sign showed up in my yard for a few days. What! I didn't put it there!

My brain drives me crazy!

2009-07-15T07:55:00.000-07:00

I drive myself nuts! I can't turn off my stupid brain obsessing over stupid things. Dumb things like, should I move some of my flowers around. I shouldn't have gotten that color flower for my front porch. Why am I worrying about flowers now. The planting season is over. It is never over. I hate that I have an appetite now due to the prednisone I am on. I would rather keep not eating and loosing weight. Wait, I should be happy. That means I am finally getting better. Should I go to a support group. I don't want to go to support groups. I hated them in the past. What would be different now. I am different. I have changed. I don't know. I can't sleep. I can eat. Crap. I hate that I can eat. I want to exercise. Now. I don't want to keep driving myself CRAZY! Why did I spend so much time in the sun when I was young. My skin is looking so old. Too many age spots from sun exposure. How did I let myself get this way. How can I pull myself out. How can I finally find peace and self acceptance. Maybe just the way I am. I'm so glad I'm finally off pills. I am happy I am finally seeing improvement. Slow but sure. I miss not tending my g-babies. Why can't I remember anything anymore. Probably because my brain is too busy thinking/worrying/obsessing over stupid things! My body still isn't working right. It's only been just over 5 weeks. Be grateful. That's right. Be grateful. And be grateful again and again and again. Maybe I should fill my brain up with gratefulness. Whenever I think a negative thought I will try my hardest to force it out and replace it with 10 positives! Yeah, that's what I'll do.

Michael Jackson Murdered?

2009-07-13T20:50:00.000-07:00

Listening to the news this evening, it was said that one of Michael Jackson's sister's said he was "murdered". I thought that was completely ridiculous. But as I thought more about it, I believe in a way, he was. Of course not on purpose, but inadvertently from doctors that were less than honorable. Who wouldn't give the chance to be the personal physician to the King of Pop! Hopefully many, when they found out what the needs were. Drugs. I told Ron how I felt and he replied that it was still Jackson's choice. Being an addict, I believe that at some point into the addiction, the choice is actually taken away, especially if you have a supplier at hand, any time, any day. Addicts don't like being addicts. They wish they could change. They get so desperate that sometimes they will do whatever it takes to get what their body is SCREAMING for! As I have said before, you find yourself wrapped in chains, and for me, wanting so badly to get help but not able , or I should say, not willing yet, to dig deep within to break free. I'm sure everyone will have their own opinions.

Beware of doctors that over prescribe or continue with refills. I found a doctor that made it too easy. But on the other hand, if he had not, I probably would have kept "shopping" until I found one that did. But on the other hand again (I sound like Tevia in Fiddler on the Roof!) maybe not. I don't know. All speculation.

Was Jackson murdered? I don't know but I do care, as I think this problem will continue to grow and grow and grow until both patients and doctors alike, take more responsibility.

Bad Week!

2009-07-12T21:59:00.000-07:00

I'm a bit lost for words or whatever. It seems as though not much changes from day to day. It was a real discouraging week. The progress is so much slower than I expected. But the setback of the virus and reoccurance of ulcers has made things tougher. I pictured myself up and moving as I haven't in years by now. Funny thing, my body had other things in mind. I am now hoping that I'll be feeling much better by the end of the summer and even then, I'm not sure. I will just have to take whatever is given. I don't have control over that. But I do have control over my attitude. The last week, even that has not been good. I will do better this week. I have to. It isn't fair to my family to have a physically sick mom and wife, as well as feeling sorry for myself. This has affected all. Even my precious little grandson. He is soooo worried about me. He cried and cried the night I went to the ER. When I see him now, he just runs and jumps into my arms! How I love him and his darling baby sister. They were a big part of me wanting to get better.

Our neighborhood had a block party last Friday. I was really nervous to go but I wanted to try. I haven't seen anybody since this began. I was worried that people wouldn't know what to say so they'd not say anything. Hello! I have it here for everyone to read about but what do you say? Everyone was so great! I love it when people talk to me about the whole deal and you'd be surprised at how many suffer with addiction. I'm not. Not at all. Anyway, thank you all for being so great and for all the words of encouragement. Especially the prayers. I know that the faith, hope, and love of my family and friends have helped me make it this far. I love you all. This has been and will continue to be a very humbling experience, a refiners fire and for that I am grateful.

FREAK!

2009-07-09T13:20:00.000-07:00

I started getting sooo sick on Tues. afternoon. By last evening I felt horrible! What is going on! I called a rehab place and asked if I should be that sick after 4+ weeks. The answer was no. Something else must be going on. Long story short.. I talked to Dr. Dave, my very smart and adorable son in law. He said I should go to the ER. but make sure I was up front with them, as they give out narcotics pretty handily. Don't worry. I haven't gone this far to blow it now! So off we went. Basically, I have some crazy virus going on along with ulcers most likely (looking back, this same thing happened after rehab years ago). So back on the prednisone...Yuck! Come to find out, the doc who put me on it last week prescribed it not quite right. You can't just stop that medicine. You have to taper or it can cause all sorts of problems. So that was happening as well. The prednisone is treating the crazy symptoms of this virus, the joint stuff. Got something for the ulcers and for the nausea that has not been letting up. So... I think I am FINALLY on the road to wellness! Lots hope so. FREAK!

I Am...

2009-07-08T09:56:00.000-07:00

tired
swollen
not wanting another cornea transplant
grateful for corneal transplants
mad my beautiful purple planter just up and died
so proud of all my children
in love with my very patient hubby
sick of being sick
wondering if I'll ever feel normal again
wanting to have the energy to live a normal day
grateful for another day of making it
nervous for Curtis' pathology report
in love with the cutest grand babies in the world
wanting my music
staying away from flower stores
mad I have wasted so much money on junk
getting rid of that junk
wishing I were organized like Jami
mad I got myself into this mess
happy I am digging myself out
impatient
so grateful for prayer
happy I have my parents with me still

All over the place!

Andy and Curtis

2009-07-07T09:51:00.000-07:00

There are those days in all of our lives we will never forget. Those days define who we are, our character, either good or bad. These two days are two of mine.

Day 1.
It was a hot Spring day. I had on a light blue dress with silver sandals. I was on my way to visit Ron in the hospital. His liver had been poisoned with toxic levels from something I can't remember. He was very sick. On the way to the hospital, I thought I would stop by the SL Clinic for a pregnancy test. My period was late but I was sure it was because of the stress and pressure of things that were going on. Sure enough, it was positive. (I guess Ron felt OK every now and again. Sorry kids, I know that's a gross out!) I got to my car and started balling! When I arrived at the hospital Ron could tell I had been crying. When I told him what the matter was, he was even more sick! I told everyone I needed to have a miscarriage, I couldn't have another baby, not now. Some agreed.

I was well into my pregnancy. Andy's little heart was strong and clear. It was too late to miscarry. I had a healthy pregnancy.

Day 2.
It was Sept. 25th, 16 yrs. ago. I was just about 2 weeks away from starting my 3rd trimester. It was Monday. I had a doctor's appointment. I didn't want to go. At the last minute I jumped in the car. The doc measured me. Great! I had gained the right amount of weight. Great! Then he got the instrument to listen to the heartbeat he had heard many times before. Hum, that little bugger is hiding from us. Try again. Hum. He is stubborn. Hum. Silence. Then. Did Ron come with you? No. I need to send you down for an ultrasound. I'm sure everything is fine.

I knew what the answer was. I laid on the table and the tears started streaming. Could I really have willed my little baby to die? The doc told me that I was too far along, I would have to go through labor and delivery. But I had to wait until Wednesday.

When Andy was born, the nurse wrapped him in a blanket. I only held him for a few minutes. Ron held him most of the time. When we were through she asked if she should "take care of him". Ron and I looked at each other. We didn't know, we weren't given any options. Maybe there weren't any. I know now that they put Andy in the garbage with all the other things patients didn't know what to do with. I wish I had a foot and hand print. I think they do that now. They took a picture of him but it was so ghastly to me that I threw it away. Chelsea found it in the garbage can and was so angry at me. It was the only remembrance of her brother. We did get the blanket he was wrapped in. I found Jessica with her nose in the blanket crying, "Why didn't you let me see him!"

Whenever I revisited those days in my soul, it was a pain no pill could ever mask, but I tried.

Today I picture two, maybe three, little boys playing in a spirit -kind -of- way in heaven. Andy gets serious and says, "Mom and dad will be raising 5 children on earth." Nils being the oldest knew what Andy was getting at. Curtis might then reply, "K", and then realize that he was number 6. Andy would put his arm reassuringly around Curtis. "Don't worry, you will be number 5. I love you so much! We will all be together someday!"

And now I am grateful for what fate has in store. Someone is in control when we are not. I can hardly wait to throw my arms around my Andy and say think you, I love you so!

And because of him, we have our Curtis.

28 Days..

2009-07-05T20:38:00.000-07:00

It has been 28 days today. I haven't been feeling too good but I had 1 quite good day and another OK day last week. I'll take it. The doc put me on prednisone for my swollen joints. It's a great medication in lots of ways, but it has lots of crazy side affects. I'm off it now so I'm hoping I'll see some big improvements this week. With that being said, I was also told that it could take until the end of July to really start noticing big differences, maybe longer.

I am a pretty patient person, but when it comes to me, I am not at all! That will be one thing I will have learned through this process. I can't hurry this at all. I have been doing all I can to eat right and get some kind of exercise, trying to get my body moving and working again. Taking very short strolls in the morning have pushed me to the limit.

Last night I was thinking of some of my runs where I felt like I could have run forever and ever. That was the greatest feeling! I hope I get to enjoy that high again in the near future.

A Tribute to my Dad..

2009-07-03T14:41:00.000-07:00

My dad is one of the very few left that fought for our country in WWII. Dad has never spoken of experiences of the war.

One day my uncle called me. Have you seen "Saving Private Ryan?". I said no. He then went on to tell me that my dad was there and I needed to see it to see what he went through. Upon asking dad about it, he dismissed it by saying something like, You do what you have to do. He wasn't on Normandy until a few days later, but it still wasn't secured, thus all the bodies, blood and gore, and of course, fear for the lives of his comrades. He never worried so much about his own. I still haven't seen the movie, but I plan on it.

Here are a few stories I have since learned:

Once while eating breakfast, his platoon was hit. Many around him dropped dead. Dad was fine, at least physically.

Dad was literally in the trenches, deep, dirty, and muddy, body to body. He was on the front line many times. He still has the coat he took off a dead German officer.

Dad was holding a dying comrade in his arms. Dad could tell the injuries would be fatal. The soldier kept pleading with my dad, "Don't let me die. Please don't let me die." Dad gave him his one, I think morphine or whatever it was they gave for instant relief, to his fellow soldier. The soldier was out of pain. Dad's pain increased 10 fold.

Another time, dad rushed into enemy territory charging with his commander. They were surrounded by Germans. So close in fact, they could hear every word the enemy was speaking. They didn't realize that the rest of their company didn't follow them.

These are just a few of the stories I know. But my mom found a gold mine earlier this year, letters my dad had written home. They are priceless to me. They talk about how upon securing enemy territory, there was a man, not enemy now, who was wondering around broken spirited and starving. Dad gave him his K rations, all he had. Dad got quite a scolding from his commanding officer. Another time he sent a $5. bill home. He wanted to make sure that his dad pay his tithing with it. Another so eloquently written letter, spoke of the beautiful earth. He had come across some beautiful flowers, birds, and whatever else, I can't remember. He then spoke of the Creator of us all. He was so grateful that he was blessed to witness this beauty that could take him away, for just a short time, from all the pain and anguish and hellishness of war.

I am so grateful to all those that have fought and are fighting still, to keep our country free. I hope we all can somehow, in someway, show our gratitude and thanks.

I think I'll call my dad right now and tell him that I love him so.

Turning the Corner...

2009-07-02T10:06:00.000-07:00

Last night Ron came in the room and said, I am really proud of you. I asked him why, for many reasons. I then told him this is the first time in all my attempts that I feel I am really going to make it. He said he felt the same way too. I asked him why again. He said, "Because I really think you get it this time".

I don't know if I get it but what I do know is that the evil force of addiction is SOOO powerful. Something that starts out so innocently, when all of a sudden you wake up in chains, a hellish prison that has it's claws deeply embedded in your body and soul.

My body isn't screaming for the relief one pill would bring anymore. I am still very weak but a lot of that could be from the lack of appetite as well. I am nowhere near being out of the woods. I am still in the "honeymoon" phase. Now the real work starts.

I am ready to start my new life. My children have always done their best to give Ron and I their very best. Don't they finally deserve that from me now? I have been an addict most of Curtis' life. This is all he has known, so he never knew. My girls have always known, they could always tell, as they knew me before addiction days. So could Ron.

I am deeply sorry for the pain I have caused, for the lost years, for the split personalities, for the ups and downs, the meanness, the obsessing, the seeking, the dishonesty, for everything that comes with this beast. I express my deepest sorrow to Ron. I wonder how he has stayed with me. I am just a lucky person I guess.

The work is just beginning, as I said. But I feel as though I am finally turning the corner.

Bodies Are Amazing!

2009-07-01T12:39:00.000-07:00

I have been watching Wimbledon. I love watching tennis! I have always thought tennis players are some of the best in-shape athletes of all! They sprint around the court, start and stop on a dime with such control, they have to be so strong to hit the ball as hard as they do, and the muscle control for the stretching, etc. I have been to the US Open twice. When I was young, my family belonged to the SL Swimming and Tennis Club. There were many tournaments there that I loved going to. My family even had players stay with us. I saw Martina Navratilova and many other greats up close. I loved playing the game as well. I was pretty good for a recreational player.

It's as if someone is trying to send me a message. I also saw an 83 yr old woman slalom water skiing on a commercial. Then on Oprah there were some elderly people in great shape! Some had the cardio. of a 20 yr old! Amazing!, from great eating and exercising and I'm sure there has to be great genetics as well. On the other hand, a 4 yr old who weighed 155 lbs,! His mom weighed around 350. They were on Dr Phil. ( I know what you're thinking...way too much TV! I agree!) This mom knew there was something wrong with her son and that his weight had nothing to do with how she was feeding him and his lack of exercise. There was no convincing her that she could be responsible for her son's obesity. (HATE that word. It sounds so..BIG) To make a long story short, after the show, the boy was taken away by the state and given to the dad. When he was taken, the boy weighed close to 190! 4 yrs old! One year later the boy came to the show again, less more than 100 lbs! He was SOOOO happy and he said his favorite food was broccoli. I hope he doesn't go back to his mom anytime soon.

I am soooo excited to know that I can undo years of abuse. Not just pills, but over-eating and being addicted to sugar as well. Also my utter lack of being physical. I don't know where I lost that. I have loved being active my whole life. Even when Ron was so very sick and I was working a ton, I always found time to run or go to the gym, or whatever. I think that is what saved me from really going off the deep end!

I live in a neighborhood where the majority of people are very active. (For example, I was on my front porch. A little boy was riding his bike. Another little boy yelled from his porch, "Can you play?" The boy on the bike answered, "No. I'm in training." I chuckled.) It has been inspiring to witness. More than anything, it has been a joy to watch Ron get into all this. He is actually training for a triathlon in Sept.! I never thought I'd see that day!

Our bodies are miraculous! I am going to start TODAY to thank the good Lord above for the body I have been blessed with. I am going to start treating it with the respect it deserves. I have a feeling this will make the biggest difference of all!

Dr. Stupid-head Dumb-butt Foote...

2009-06-30T12:13:00.000-07:00

I just got back from the doc. Don't worry, not my dealer doc., another one. Don't worry again, I'm not doctor shopping, I told him exactly what I'm doing...Anyway, the reason for the visit was unrelated to withdrawal. Weird joint stuff. He told me I had gone about this the hard way. I told him that for me, there was no other way. I could never taper. But my Dr appointment is not the point of this post. Well, kind of.

i have spent the last 3 weeks plus 3 days (whose counting!) on the couch mostly watching TV. There are lots of commercials for quitting smoking. When I was in rehab, Coke, (as in cola, not cocaine) was contraband. Yep, I snuck it in under the guise of root beer. What was so ironic was that people who had never smoked before, took up smoking. That was OK. There was a special room for the smokers. But NO COKE! It has caffeine. Caffeine? nicotine? I thought that was funny.

Why is there such a problem with especially prescription drugs? Did you know that 3 years ago, Utah was #1 in the nation for prescription drug abuse. The reason for that could make a great debate. Swallowing a pill is very sterile, very non-street-drug like. And why is it so hard to get help? (Back to the whole quit smoking comment above)

I went to a doctor when I was into the habit for about 3 years. He was a psychiatrist. He was the most arrogant SOB I have ever met! Most people like me have low self esteem, (I'm not saying I always do/did, but at that time...) I told him I had a problem and that I needed help. He told me that if I didn't get to a facility for 6 months, I would be "a druggie mom on the streets". I had a very sick husband at the time and a house full of kids. I told him that option wouldn't work for me. I think I got in the parking lot and took more pills! Actually, I don't remember that, but I do remember how horrible he made me feel.

Try and get help. There is a 3 month waiting period to get in with an addiction doctor and about that long to check in somewhere. When a spot does open up, plan on spending your life's savings. Addiction is a big and booming business. So in answer to my today's doctor's statement on doing this the hard way, there are not that many options. There has to be a better way to help people. Maybe just awareness. That is really the purpose for this blog. I hope to help others before they get to my point. And to help me. Mostly to help me.

And as for Dr. Dumb-butt Foote, (his first name rhymes with DARK), I will be on the streets!, running, or walking, or biking!

I'm Sad..

2009-06-28T10:56:00.000-07:00

I have had so many thoughts swirling around in my head the last few days. Any number of them could be a topic but I would rather just throw them all out here and go from there.

Sadness over Micheal Jackson dying. Such a tragicness to the whole thing. I thought he was a master, a talent beyond compare yet so demonized by so many things. I'm bugged that this event has saddened me so much.

I'm mad that I got myself into this mess and that I didn't take care of it sooner. I scared to go to the doctor to find out what these golf-ball sized weird bubbly things are on my elbows; why my joints have been so stiff and hurting so bad. I'm scared I'll never feel normal again or that I'll never be able to run again. I'm scared that I won't know how to feel up these empty spaces in my soul that have been medicated in the past. I feel sadness for other people who struggle with this demon and others who are in denial. I'm scared I won't have energy to live a normal day. I feel sad that Curtis has to witness this whole thing and not have a normal mom. I feel sad I can't tend my grand babies, as I don't feel well enough yet. I feel sad that my mom and dad who are in their 80's have to worry about me. It should be the opposite. I should be taking care of them. I'm sad that my family is at church right now and I can't be there with them. I feel bad that others are having to cover for me in different assignments, making their load heavier. I'm sad I can't spend the time out in my garden and that some plants have died because of that. I just feel sad.

But, with all this being said, this time had to come sooner or later if I want to get better. I'll just keep having faith, pleading with God to help me through, and thanking him for another day of making it.

It's been 3 weeks now, and for that i am grateful.

On the Spot!

2009-06-25T13:59:00.000-07:00

i love music! The only thing I love more than music is listening to Curtis play the piano or sing, or play the piano while he sings. He is taking piano and voice lessons.

If any of you know Kelly DeHaan, you know I am talking brilliance. He is the choir teacher at West Jordan High. He came to our home on Monday to listen to Curtis and give him his first lesson. Kelly said, "You play don't you Shar? Why don't you play for him." I didn't want to for a number of reasons but there was no getting out of it. After the song, Kelly went to the piano and played a bunch of drills, you know, lesson kind of things. He then told Curt, "The next thing I want you to do is perform in church." Funny thing, Ron and Curtis already have a date set. So he called Ron in to go over the song with both of them. Kelly stayed at the piano. At one point he said, "This is too high. Let's lower it a third." Ok, let's do...in time. But NO! Kelly accompanied down a third on the spot! i said in amazement, "How the heck do you do that so automatically?" "Oh, it's nothing. I went to college. When you know how chords work it's easy." K...I went to college for a year and I only took music classes. I know how to read chords and I know how they work. BUT I can't transpose while accompanying on the spot! Trying to feel not completely defeated, I piped up and said out of nowhere, "I studied with a woman who concertized all over the world and graduated from Julliard!" He responded with a, wow, and kept transposing down a third. Maybe i should have told him I need another cornea transplant so I don't see very good. He probably would have said, wow, and still kept playing. Then I would have thrown the winning punch! "Did you know I could play Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C# minor when I was in 6th grade?" I bet he would have been impressed. NOT! He can transpose on the spot!

I have been practicing a lot lately. I've almost got the song transposed!...on the spot!

I Miss My Friend

2009-06-25T11:01:00.000-07:00

Gordon and I didn't start out on the best foot. The girls had had our maturation program and he wanted to see, or take, all the pamphlets we had gotten. NO WAY! Are you kidding! I was embarrassed enough let alone have a guy get a hold of them. Anyway, he was playfully trying to get them when I blurted out, "Your mom wears army boots!" Nobody said anything about Shirel, as she was affectionately called years later. So Gordie did what any good son would do. He pushed me down. I was crying when I got home and before I knew it, my doorbell rang. There was Gordon with his mom. He had come, under strong encouragement of being able to keep living, to apologize. My mom invited them in for cookies. Neither one of us wanted one but mom and Shirley had a grand time visiting.

That was the beginning of a great friendship. We were in the same ward growing up. I was the Laurel Pres. and Gordon was the Priest quorum Pres. He was also the pres of the madrigals and I was the secretary. We spent lots of time together. Gordon had everything going for him. He was good looking, had a beautiful tenor voice, a great athlete, and very smart. I can still hear him sing, Some Children See Him.., Hodie Christus, What Cheer, and many others. He loved to sing.

It was a beautiful summer day. We had just graduated high school. I remember that day cause I had run 1 mile for the very first time. I got a phone call saying that Gordon had been in an accident. To make a long story short, it was a water skiing accident. Because of what had happened, Gordie had to have his arm amputated from just below the shoulder.

Gordon loved being the center of attention and everyone loved having him maintain that spot. He also had a great sense of humor and with one arm being gone, he took full advantage. Here are 3 stories I remember: He went to buy some ski gloves. He told the sales clerk that he should only have to pay for one. She replied that she was sorry as they were only sold in pairs. He said, "As you can see, I don't have a PAIR of hands!"..He then started laughing and bought the gloves. He and some friends went to see the movie Jaws. There is a part where some shark-bitten arm comes floating through somewhere. Gordon stands up in the theatre and yells, "There it is!" His friends were hysterically laughing! This last story, and I think my favorite.. He checked into a hotel that had a round swimming pool. He told the front desk, "Finally! A pool I can swim laps in!"

Gordon served an honorable mission in New York. He attended law school and was hired by one of the most prestigious law firms in Utah at that time. He was known as being one of the best litigators around. No one wanted to go up against Gordon in the courtroom. But the pain from the accident got him hooked to pain pills. Gordon was able to conquer his addiction to pills but was not able to quit the drinking.

The last time I saw Gordon was in the Shopko parking lot. He gave me one of his great big one-armed hugs that everyone loved! I don't think he was even 40 when his body just couldn't take the wear and tear it had received during the years.

I am happy that Gordon is at peace in the arms of a loving, understanding, all-knowing Father. Every now and again, I just really miss my friend.

I Want and Want and Want and...Wanted...

2009-06-24T11:18:00.000-07:00

There are always lessons to be learned through tough things. Last night as I was busy doing nothing laying on the couch, I started thinking of things I wanted. Then I thought of the things that I wanted before the things I want now. I want...ed
To paint some cool colors (not as in cool tones, but COOL)in my room and bathroom and maybe Curtis' room, maybe all over; to travel, go see the world, see how other people live out of Pleasantville; get furniture that matches in our office and furniture for the guest bedroom downstairs; have a pergola in my backyard; get a big shade tree, or all the money to buy whatever kind of anything for the yard; get a grand piano, (that should have been #1!); be skinny and along with that let's throw in a tummy tuck!;...funny, I can't think of all the things I used to want but the list was pretty long back in the day.

Oh how things have changed. All I want is what I have. I have an incredible family who are all champs! Especially my very sweet and kind Ron. We have been through alot together and will continue to, for such is the nature of life. He has been so patient. He comes home after working soooo many hours and finds me pretty much where he left me, on the couch or in bed. And he always asks how my day/night went. Then he'll ask if I need anything. He'll run to the store and get me Dreyers lime popsicles since they are about the only thing that sound good. He'll rub my back and sit with me. I have always loved having Ron read to me. He has a great voice and I love to hear it.

When anyone gets married, it's just a given that it is for better or worse. But when you're young and don't know any better, you don't think there will be a worse. There have been alot of "worse", or tough times. I am very lucky to have gotten the man that I did, for he has put up with a lot of "worse". Thank you my sweetheart.

All I want now is one more day pill-free. And I'm going to get that. Oh yeah...I still want the skinny body and the grand piano!

Short and Sweet

2009-06-22T12:14:00.000-07:00

It has been as really tough last few days. I'm not sure why but it doesn't matter. I thought by the time I got to the 2 week mark, things would be waaaaay better. Kind of, but other things have kicked my butt! I wish Scotty could beam me up and away for a few months! Or that I could go back in time and start over. Since I can't do either, I'll keep going today.

I read a saying whom I don't know who to give credit. It goes like this:
"When the pain of the problem gets harder than the pain of the solution, then you are ready for change."

That's where I am at. That's a good thing.

Not So Good...But Hanging In....

2009-06-19T11:09:00.000-07:00

Yesterday started out quite good. I accomplished a little, a very ltter, but I did accomplish something. As the day progressed, I felt worse and worse. I have tried with all I have in me, to remain postivie. I knew this would not be a walk in the park physically, so I have tried to be on top of things mentally. I have tried to look for the good in the world, appreciate all the incredible bl;essings I have, so on and so on.

By the time 4:oo rolled around, I was pretty much feeling all the symptoms that come with this beast. It is hard to understand unless you have been through it. I thought I would let you know what some of those symptoms are, certainly not for the purpose of sympathy, just a real look at the hellishness of opiate addiction. Extreme nausea, terrible joint pain, pins feel like they are sticking in every skin cell, insomnia, no energy...these are just a few as to spare you details you don't need to know. It is not fun. Opiate withdrawal is very safe to stop cold turkey, but is known to be one of the most painful.

Jess came over yesterday. She doesn't get out this way much anymore and it was great to have her visit. She is always ready for a party. Curtis loves having her here. They wanted to go see Star Trek. Great movie BTW> I thought I should buck up and go. I did and was freezing, feeling awful, but I went.

I teach the singing in Primary in my ward. I love it! I love the kids and I love the music. One of the songs is "How Firm a Foundation"., the 1st and 3rd verses. I thought that was a little odd maybe, but the kids have done a great job learning it.

Little did I know what learning that song would do for me I have been reciting the words to the 3rd verse over and over and over again in these past 2 week. "Fear not I am with thee. Oh be not dismayed. For I am Thy God and will still give Thee aid. I'll strengthen thee, bless thee, and cause thee to stand upheld by my righteous omnipotent hand".

There have been many times, and many more times yet to come, where I have been, and will be, literally strengthened, blessed, and held up by His hand. And for that I am grateful.

It's Beautiful Earth!

2009-06-18T08:02:00.000-07:00

Day 11! I haven't made it to a day 11 except when I was in rehab, and I must say, I feel better than when I was there. It was a nightmare. Don't get me wrong. I spoke with a dear friend last night who had a a great experience in the same facility.

I went for a walk this morning, quite a strenuous walk, as I was sprinting in a strolling kind of way, as that is all I have energy for. It made me happy. Back in my clear mind, non addicted days, I always loved getting up early in the morning going for runs. Those runs always made me happy as well. OK, true honesty, I didn't love the runs everyday but those days that the endorphins kicked in were great! the natural high!

Back to the walk. I could move to the Northwest and live with Chelsea I've decided, except for one major problem, I love the mountains! So does she BTW. But man, I have love this weather! I love the rain, I love how green it makes everything, I love the thunder and the lightening. I love to hear the children laughing and having so much fun playing in it! I used to love rain as a child as well. I loved the smell of the sidewalks after a rain so I would get down on my knees and lick them so I could taste what I was smelling! I love the sound of lawn mowers and I love the smell of the newly mowed, very green grass! All in all, the world is literally a beautiful place. I hope to see more of it someday, venture out of the greater Salt Lake County Pleasantville area!

Back again to my walk...I loved looking at all the gardens. I love to garden and I love looking at all styles of gardening. There are the very manicured, low maintenance kind with the beautiful shrubs, there are the mixture of both color and shrubs and trees, there are the very neatly planned out kind with the added curbing. I happen to love as much color as possible where there is no pattern whatsoever. I love to have most of the dirt covered in color. I have read lots of books on gardening. The most ultimate to me, that I have seen, is of course the gardens of Temple Square. Their gardens are not in clean neat rows, yet there is a method (of course) to how everything is planted. I try to do that. Can't you tell! I can't. Blah blah blah...I ramble on and on about gardening when my theme was going to be the joys and lessons I learn from my garden. But now I've wasted too much time.

For now, I'm thankful for flowers and that I and they, have made it through another day and some pretty rough weather.

Pup Tents..

2009-06-16T12:13:00.000-07:00

I have a great friend Shelley. We had our children within months of each other and they grew up being great friends.

I hated being pregnant. I never bonded with the little devils while they were in wombhood. I liked to feel them move around, but they didn't do much of that, they were so happy floating around. Maybe they knew too much so they thought they'd better chill as much as they could before the reality of their parents slapped their new behinds. Anyway, back to Shelley. Being the poor newlyweds that we were, and still are, Shelley asked me if I would like to borrow her maternity bras, but warned me that they were pretty big. They were expensive you know. I humored her and said that would be great. When she brought them over I took one look and thought, "Crimany! Cut an opening in those babies and we could go camping in there! Of course they won't fit!" You know the rest of the story. They fit like a glove? or pup tent. I was very grateful. Only your best friends would gently let you know that, yes, you are that enormous!

I just thought I'd throw in a bit of humor, but Shelley's pregnancies were nothing close to funny. For some reason, she started passing out. No warning, nothing. She would be leading the music in Sac. meeting and boom, she'd pass out. It got worse and worse as the pregnancies advanced. And with each additional pregnancy, it became so severe that she could never be left alone. On one of my turns to be with her, I said something like, "I bet you hate being pregnant." I'll never forget her reply. She said something like, "Oh no! I love it! Every morning when I wake up I feel excited, still a little drowsy and not knowing why. And then I remember. I'm pregnant and it feels like Christmas morning everyday!"

I was shocked to say the least, and mostly humbled. My friend Shelley, in fear of loosing her life and the life of her baby, only saw the richness of the miracle of carrying a life. She has three incredible, beautiful children that hopefully know of the miracles that come from the love of a mother, their mother.

Miracles come in many ways. Shelley taught me a great lesson that day. Look for the positive even, and maybe especially, during the dark times. I'm doing that now Shelley, though I am still a little pissed that the pup tents fit!

We Are Finishers!

2009-06-15T13:56:00.000-07:00

The first marathon I ever ran was a nightmare. It was in Las Vegas and I was trained by a great runner who wanted to get her PR, personal record for those not of the running world. (Though I think PB would be a better term as it could stand for either peanut butter or personal best.) Anyway, we had trained for quite some time and Melissa was not about not to run it. She had actually put in double the miles as she would run ahead of me, come back, run with me for awhile again, go ahead again...you get the picture. As we were riding the bus to the starting line, I would look out the window and see nothing but blizzard, that's right, in Las Vegas. I'd say something like, "Meliss, this looks pretty bad. Do we really run in this?" Of course her reply was, "Of course. It just looks worse than it is." -5 below with wind chill below that seemed worse than it looked to me!

I trust Melissa with any and everything. She has never lied to me, until that day. We ran it, but 150 smart people never got off the bus. They were not even going to try. This race was in Feb. so we had been used to running in all kinds of weather. BUT, I always refused blizzards! I hate running in strong wind mixed with pelting, not falling snow, and going side-ways snow...you get the picture. In fact, I don't think Melissa ran on those days either. But we had trained, and by darn, we were going to run!

Melissa was way off ahead of me. Rules of the road when you train for a marathon. No staying back. You've worked too hard not to do your very best! The only way I knew where to go was to look down and follow the snow trail that the runners before me had made. I couldn't look up at all as my face would have been pelted. I was also running on stumps for the first 6 or so miles as my feet had gone completely numb. I kept wondering what in the hell I was doing. I didn't have to do this. 150 people didn't. I kept thinking "Nobody drops out of a race at 3 miles!"

So I kept going, and going, and going, as slow as a turtle, but I didn't stop. At mile 16 I walked for the first time. The blizzard had stopped but it was still freezing. I thought, just make it to mile 17. Then I "ran" to 18, walked to 19, and so on and so on. I finally finished, the 9th to the last person in. But, I finished and I wanted to die, but burst with joy cause I had done something I never thought I could. I swore I'd never run again. I've run 3 since then and in pretty good time.

I have run many. many races since. When Melissa moved out of state, Connie became my partner. Our moto was, "We are finishers. If we crawl across the tape, we WILL finish." I also had the feelings and thoughts that if I can finish that very first marathon, I can do and accomplish anything!

Time to start remembering again.

Red Flag!

2009-06-13T12:42:00.000-07:00

After my third baby was born, I was sent home from the hospital with all the paraphernalia new moms get. Along with that came prescriptions. One of the prescriptions was for the afterbirth pains that are close to the real thing (labor pains) with the more births you have. Things are just trying to get back to their normal size. Anyway....so there I am with my new baby and 2 others ages 4 and 2. And I was feeling good! I specifically remember some visitors one night. They commented on how great I seemed to feel especially with my baby just a few days old. I told them I had gotten some "wonder pills" from the doc that made me feel great. Well time went by. I ran out of the pills so I called for a refill. The nurse asked if my afterbirth pains were really that bad. I told her no, but I just loved the way they made me feel! There was a bit of a pause on the other end followed with a short explanation of some sort, and I'm sure some kind of "red flag" on my chart!

So that was that. I didn't think any more about it. All I know, is that from the first time I took a pain pill, I loved the feeling. They gave me incredible energy. They didn't make me drowsy as they do normal people. I could conquer the world!

So why do some people hate the way they make them feel and others love them? There has to be something different in our brain chemistry's. I don't know and it doesn't really matter.

But then reality sets in. Eventually the euphoria doesn't last. In fact it doesn't even come anymore.

Don't Ever Forget!

2009-06-12T01:10:00.000-07:00

The last five days have not been fun. I have been asleep most of the time. You see, I have been on pain pills for many, many years. I have tried to quit only to start again. Satistics say, 1 out of 10 people are addicted. That is a very sobering number. (No pun intended)

I am exhausted. I am tired of the constant rollar coaster, feeling "normal" and then feeling very nauseated, as it is time for a pill. I am tired of my joints hurting. I am tired of the "no energy". I am tired of not being able to get all this extra weight off. And yes, it does make a difference in weight loss, being on them as long as I have. I am tired of brain fog. I'm tired of making sure I have pills where ever I go so I can act kind of normal, whatever that is. I'm tired of isolating myself, never feeling like going out, or doing anything socially. I have always been the party girl, if there was a party, I was there. Ron and I used to go out nearly every Friday night. We had a "standing" sitter. And we always had so much fun. He deserves so much better. And then there are my children. Talk about bad example. The one good thing about this whole thing, is that they are very aware of the dangers of any medications! I am tired of the depression and such sadness. I am tired of dripping sweat. I am tired of being bloated and gross feeling, and looking much older than I should. All in all, I'm tired, and I don't ever want to forget.

But more than anything, it hasn't been fair to me. I have lost out on the fullness of joy I could have recieved during these stages of my life. I have tried many, many, many times before. This is the last time. I won't do this again. I will do everything I need to do to make sure this is the last time. I don't ever want to forget how I feel right now. It is not fun. Actually, it is very painful.

I am starting day 5. I am posting this blog for my use and for my history. And for any of you who may have gone through this same process.

Many may wonder how this all could have started. Let me tell you, it isn't that hard. I will be getting into more detail later. But for now, all I can say is, God bless all who may be strugging with any demons.

Mothers Day

2009-05-11T07:23:00.000-07:00

Mothers Day. Typically not a day that I have loved since becoming a mom. Going to church should be something mom's should not have to do on Mothers Day. It can be torture! "My mom makes us breakfast every morning after running 5 miles and getting us all out of bed to read scriptures for 30 minutes." The list can go on and on of all the things I don't do, or things I do do that I should not be doing, like, well, lots of things. Don't get me wrong, as I always thought it was a nice way to say thank you to my own mom while growing up. I have especially loved the holiday when I realized there was something I could do that would be a meaningful way to express my love to my great mom. I never knew what to buy my mom, as it seemed she had about anything she needed, (but then, don't we all?) and what she didn't have, she could buy. So what mom's really want is SHOWING them that we love them. Service and time. That's what mom's want, that's what mom's love. So, I started buying and planting flowers for my mom. It has become a tradition that I love! I love being outside working in the dirt and I love spending time with my beautiful mother!

At this middle age stage of my life, my children are mostly grown and on their own. I celebrate their victories and I suffer with them in their times of trouble. My heart aches for them in a very tangible way. My whole soul celebrates with them as they overcome challenges, or at least see a way to deal with them.

I did lots of things wrong, but I hope I did more things right. What I know I did do was love them as much as many mom could love her children. And that is what makes a great Mothers Day, having even greater children. I love you kids....and thanks for making my job an easy one!