Thursday, July 9, 2009
FREAK!
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!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
I Am...
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!
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!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Andy and Curtis
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.
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.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
28 Days..
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.
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.
Friday, July 3, 2009
A Tribute to my Dad..
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.
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.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Turning the Corner...
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Bodies Are Amazing!
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!
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!
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