I figured it was about time I put some new randomness up here. Truthfully, I haven't felt very inspired to write much of anything lately. I have enjoyed reading through all my regular favorites out there - even though I seem to be at least a day behind on everything. I think that 'day behind' has become a pall hanging over me in almost every area of life too. Part of it is the end of a long, cold, harsh winter that just seems to not want to leave, but then I have to realize it is only February and I do live in Ohio. Why would I expect the weather to be any different this year? I have had to spend too much time doing things I have to, and not much doing things that I want to, which is also adding to my mood. I find myself spending time worrying over things I have little or no control over and that is a sure sign my head and body are ready for Spring. I am not by nature a worrier, but I know that not yet having a clear answer on the 'how and when' of the surgery is fueling that corner of my brain where I tuck the 'what ifs' into.

 

I still have more testing to go through, but was given a break of a couple weeks because it was getting to be too much on me, physically and mentally. Thankfully my doctor picked up on that, I never said a word, but it must have been pretty evident on the 12th, my last testing date. While I am thinking of it, I have to give kudos to the Cleveland Clinic and all the people I deal with there, especially in light of some recent threads and posts about the NHS across the pond. After every procedure and getting back home, I receive at least 2 phone calls/day from one of my nurses or my surgeon, asking me how I am doing and what my symptoms are for that particular point in the day. They do this even though they know I will be back for the next round in 6 days, pretty good 'customer service' I think. That is also fairly amazing in a world where many times we are just a patient or billing number. As much as I trust and like them, I have been enjoying the break from that and will until I am back in for the next one on March 3rd. So there is a quick update on that portion of my life.

 

I had a not so funny thing happen the night before last. I have had the grandkids here for a couple days (they went back home this morning), have been getting them as much as I can handle, only because I know I won't be able to take them after the operation. Anyway, it is potty training time for the youngest, my granddaughter, and I have 'her's' in my tiny bathroom downstairs. That would be the same bathroom that served as my kitchen when the drain froze, just to keep you current, you know. Why is it in there? Because when she has to go, by the time her little legs get her all the way upstairs into the big one, it will be River City, trust me. So anyway, I was out in the kitchen and the kids were in the family room, right off the kitchen, playing contentedly and life is good. I had just taken a pill bottle off the top shelf, opened it to get one out, and hear Spencer shreik, "Graaaaciiiieeee, gaarrooss!" Well, it startled me enough to let the bottle drop out of my hand and the pills go flying, 3 of them into the disposal side of the sink. Not a priority after a scream from a child, so I 'run' (lol) around the corner and am wondering who in the hell spilled the 2 gallons of Ben & Jerry's "Chocolate Therapy" ice cream on the carpet and all over Grace, especially when I have no ice cream in the house.....Yep, you guessed it - diarrhea with a capital 'D', no warning whatsoever, and the child has a huge grin on her face, most likely caused not by any enjoyment, but by the look of shock and utter disbelief on mine and her brother's at the sheer quantity produced by this sweet, beautiful babe. Fast forward to the clean-up crew, headed of course by none other than Captain Jordan, because dogs are all about the wonderful smells we humans can emit, aren't they? 'We' got the child bathed, sweet smelling, and jammies on in pretty good time. Back downstairs we go, carpet gets cleaned up, and I tell them both to stay out of the kitchen until I can get my meds picked up and then I'll get their bedtime snacks. That is when I sickeningly remember the 3 pills that went down the disposal and are undoubtedly melted away by now. Not such a big deal IF they had been 3 aspirin or something equal in cost. Unfortunately, they cost me $12/pill so there was $36 literally 'down the drain'. I was not happy since money is so tight for me and I spend $1000/month minimum all year long just on medications, but the upside was no injury, no trip to the hospital, and she didn't seem to be sick with a flu bug, just an isolated (and very messy) incident. Come to think of it, that's probably the most exciting Friday night happening I have had in a long time. Now do you wonder why there is a pall hanging over me and I long for sunshine and warmer weather, even if it is enjoyed while still mainly housebound?

 

 

(edited to add - Still having the 'font changing on it's own' problem even after writing it in Word (thank you, Lesley and others for suggestion on that one!) and transferring here. I am going to take a much needed nap now, love the kids, but body is killing me and will worry about the type problem later. It is irritating though.;))

1. I was the last born and only girl of the family. I was the guinea pig for all experimental ramps, bike launchers, floating ‘devices’, and any other creations my brothers came up with.

 

2. I never knew my maternal grandmother. She died 3 days after I was born - killed by a drunk driver coming home from the hospital after visiting me.

 

3. I know how to milk cows! My maternal grandfather had the largest dairy farm in the state, was the first to have automated milking machines in Ohio, and also bred Tennessee walking and quarter horses. He had 2 dairy processing plants and 3 ice cream stores - guess where my friends and I hung out while growing up?

 

4. I knew how to ride a horse and swim before I knew how to ride a bike. I learned how to golf from my father, a scratch golfer, when I was 7.

 

5. I took shooting lessons for 5 years at the Conservation League, won several marksmanship and skeet competitions, but would never kill an animal.

 

6. I taught water skiing and sailing on Lake Erie for 6 years. I think we had as many boats as cars while I was growing up.

 

7. I still receive cards, phone calls, letters, and small gifts from almost every family I took care of while in Oncology and especially from those of my pediatric patients. I remember the names of all my longterm and can tell you when each of my kids died, along with exactly who was there. I lost track long ago though of the number of funerals I have attended for them. 

 

8. I have 2 sons, oldest 30, married, and the father of my grandson and granddaughter. Youngest will be 25 in March and not married, no kids. I also raised a stepson and stepdaughter from the ages of six and almost three. They were my first husband’s children. (Wow, is this confusing or what?!)

 

9. I have never lived in an apartment, always a house. I have renovated 3 and helped design a new one from the ground up.

 

10. I have done 8 complete house moves, 4 in a period of 10 years for ex-husbands job, and have lived in 6 different states.

 

11. I was married for almost 13 years to my son’s father. I was single, raising them for 14 years, until I broke my vow to never remarry. I married my second husband in 2002 and was divorced, again, in 2008. No, there will not be a third.

 

12. My favorite smells are leather bound books, hyacinths, babies, and slicing open a fresh vanilla bean.

 

13. I absolutely love to cook and will still make ornate meals for myself, just because I can.

 

14. I no longer practice organized religion, but am a very spiritual person, and have studied many different beliefs. I have practiced serious meditation (don’t laugh) since I was around 14 and would feel lost and disconnected without it daily.

 

15. I have found that anyone who repeatedly tells me how honest they are or says they have never lied, is usually very dishonest and lies far more than the average person.  We have all been dishonest in some way, shape, or form because we are human.

 

16. I have never been without at least one dog allowing me to live with them.

 

17. I have had to abandon my car and lay in a ditch twice while a tornado passed directly over me in Ohio and I have been in 2 hurricanes while living on the East Coast.

 

18. My father was my hero and I was given the responsibility at age 27 of having to make the decision to pull the plug on him after he went into a coma following a simple heart procedure. I sat with him, holding his hand and talking, all night long because the hearing is the last to go. He was only 64 and I miss him every day.

 

19. The only countries outside the U.S. I have visited are Canada and Mexico. The latter I was lucky to get out of, but that’s another story in itself.

 

20. I have been shot at twice. Once in a hospital Emergency Room while working and the other when our car was stolen in Detroit at a Yankee vs. Tigers Game.

 

21. I have many MLB players autographs, but the one I cherish the most is that of Mickey Mantle. I got that when I was 10, from him personally, at Yankee Stadium.

 

22. I coached, umpired (had my certification), and was a director in our boys Amvets Baseball League here for 16 years.

 

23. I am not artistic as far as most mediums go, but am pretty good at stained glasswork.

 

24. I love words, am quick to catch misspellings, and dislike words being used out of context.

 

25. I still have every one of my father’s pilot licenses.

I just saw veronikkamarzz post about not having 25 things from people. I have attempted mine, 3 times now, and due to a problem with my computer, I have lost them and other things. I have to figure out what it is that keeps shutting down Explorer. I know, switch browsers because everyone hates IE.;)

 

I have lost about every comment and Forum post I have tried to make too. I get it almost done and boom, there goes the browser, just hanging in mid-air until it collapses. I won't even attempt any games right now. So, I have not disappeared and will hopefully get things back to normal - soon.

 

I know enough about computers to get this straightened out, believe it is an add-on that's running, just need to keep turning them all off/on and figure out which one it is. No, I do not have any malware, virus, or any other creepy crawler wreaking havoc here and my system is all defragged and up to date.

 

Wish me luck. I love the internet, just despise being at the mercy of cybergremlins.

Sometimes we all take the smallest things for granted, as it has often been said, and don't realize how much we count on them until they are not available. Yes, I have my kitchen and the sink in mind - right at this point anyway. As of yesterday at 2:30pm, I no longer have to do dishes in the bathroom and Jordan can freely negotiate 'her' path. Being half asleep this morning, I picked up the coffee pot and started to head into the 1/2 bath again to fill it. Suddenly remembered and laughed at myself, but gratefully returned to the 'proper room'. My perspective on the little things came to the forefront again when I was able to (happily) do dishes and use the disposal again last night.

 

I have only had a dishwasher once in my life, never used it more than a few times, and find doing dishes while looking out my kitchen window very cathartic. I just let my mind wander (unless I happen to run my finger across a sharp knife) and before I know it, they're done. I have a lot fewer dishes now, being on my own, but I love to cook, so I still dirty up a pile of pans and all the rest when I make a meal. Even when I was married, had my 2 sons and was also raising my stepdaughter and stepson (my son's father's kids from his first marriage - that's a mouthful), working many 60-70 hour/week shifts, I still did dishes by hand, usually with help from one of the older kids. It was a time to talk, catch-up on things, and was somehow as important to me as eating dinner at the table, all together, as many nights as possible. Of course I grumbled a lot of nights while doing them, bone tired, not wanting to be on my feet for another minute, and wishing I could throw them all in the trash and just go out and buy new ones.

 

I miss that, as silly or insane as it might sound. Don't get me wrong, I am fully enjoying my life on my own again and wouldn't trade it for the world, but I actually do miss the noise and having someone physically here to laugh with or sit face-to-face and talk with when it just seems like something that needs to be shared that way. I have friends here for coffee, endless solving of problems (both our's and the world's - of course), gossiping (yes, we all do it), lunch, dinner, and even the overnight 'slumber parties'. There are always the ones who drop in, sometimes unannounced and just happened to be driving by, and I have the boys, my daughter-in-law, and grandkids here a lot. It's just those odd times that will hit, seemingly for no apparent reason, when I would absolutely love to have all the 'chaos' back. Even passing by a spot (that maybe only I know has been patched) in the plaster of one of the house's walls and remembering why it is there. "Ah, that was the time Kirk was hellbent on killing dear little brother Zach with a 9-iron, hit the staircase wall instead..." or feeling the 'chink' in the hardwood pillar under my fingertips while I dust and "That was when they all built a fort in the living room and the hammer flew out of Matt's (one of umpteen childhood friends/neighborhood live-in most of the time) hand and we all went back to my workplace, just another trip to the E.R. for stitches." Zachary still sports that scar above his eyebrow, he happened to be in the path of the *flying Craftsman*.

 

There are at least a hundred more places in this 120 year old structure that evoke all those memories of why this is truly a home and not just a house. It has places that have settled and produced small fissures in the ceilings and walls. There are rooms that need a facelift with a fresh coat of paint. Much of the carpeting has seen better days and if I could maintain it (and it would not be dangerously slippery under my not so steady feet), I would have it taken out to expose all the beautiful hardwood underneath, not just in places as it is now. But it is my sanctuary, my refuge, and even though countless people have told me to get a smaller place, I won't until I am forced to. Why would I take on a payment, when I'll have this paid off (years ahead of the mortgage due date), in another 6 months? Besides, even though my sons know it would certainly be easier for me in a 'less than huge' place, I see the looks that pass between them when the subject is broached. It is also my grandson's and granddaughter's vast place for exploring. When you are 5 years and 18 months old, as they are, huge staircases with a landing that is perfect for sitting on with the dog and 'spying' down into the living room and foyer, just don't come along with every house you go to. Anymore than the closets and cubbies, so good to hide in, giggling nonstop - until you start to worry no one misses you and you come out. The back staircase that you can sneak down, throw open the door into the family room, and squeal in utter delight when one of the 'adults' almost goes into heart failure. The heavy swinging door that goes between the kitchen and dining room, no better place to stand behind, 'disguising your voice' and convinced whoever is on the other side doesn't know it's really you.

 

There are more memories being made in this old home. There are more tears, both joyful and sad, being shed and sometimes falling on these much treaded and worn floors. There are times when we are all together that we are so loud, laughing and talking over each other, that I'm sure someone walking by would think we had a barroom brawl going on in here. Maybe someday, I'll sit in 'my' chair in the living room and once again here a son of mine say, "Mom, we decided to get married." It may sound foolish to some, but if and when that day ever comes for Zach, I'd like to think that news will be shared, as it was with Kirk, right in this very place I sit now, sharing all this with you who read it. All the small things that have been grouped together, by faith and choice and fate, within these walls, make up the greater portion of my life thus far. All these small things, that at times I may have taken for granted, are things that have helped to form who I am and the life I choose to live. Oh how I would miss them if it were ever possible to have them taken away from me. 

I can only speak for myself here, of course, but I have had an interesting last 12 hours! Now, I don't think that Jordan has enjoyed it as much, which is why I speak for me alone. Dogs do not like disruption or their 'beaten paths' reclaimed for other purposes.

 

I have a frozen drain pipe in my kitchen. I discovered it around 8:00 last night when the sink backed up on both sides. I proceeded to drain bucket after bucket of water, after loosening the J-trap, into my downstairs bathroom toilet. Finally got the sink drained all the way. I knew it wasn't a clogged disposal pipe, because it ran through the cross-pipe over into the other side. I knew it wasn't frozen water pipes because I had water. So, last night I tried the hairdryer and a space heater, no luck. About 2 hours ago, I took off the J-trap and removed the pipe to the outside wall. Thankfully I had all the copper piping, other than my water pipes, replaced with PVC years ago. Otherwise, I would NOT have been able to remove any of these, period, without breaking the solder joints - something I would not attempt to do, trust me, in case you are shuddering as you read this.

 

I got out my heat gun (last resort) and tried to thaw the drain pipe at the wall where it comes into the house, but no luck. I did succeed in putting myself in considerable pain after laying, contorting, and then pulling myself up from the floor in front of the sink so many times I feel like I just did a week of physical therapy, without instructions. So, now I sit and wait for the plumber to show up. Because of the unbelievable cold we have had, there are broken pipes by the thousands all over the city. The earliest I can get him here is tomorrow, late afternoon.

 

Jordan(dog) is quite upset that she has to re-route herself to get to her bowls and the back door! I know, "How dare I", right? She did patiently sit a foot away from me, while I lay in front of the sink, because she has become used to doing that when I take a fall. She'll wait until I tell her I am okay, get myself up, and then she'll get as far away as possible while I walk/crawl to a chair or couch. Why? I have fallen on this poor 70 pound, furry bundle of pure love so many times, that she now knows the unspoken signals: "Okay, she's looking a little strange, clutching her back, and there goes her left leg and 'boom', she's down! I better get out quick (after I'm sure she is breathing.)" Now, I did give her a blow by blow account of what *we* were trying to do and I asked her opinion quite a few times. Though she could give me no answers, at least she faithfully observed, and I know in her dog's mind, she was rooting for me to "Get 'er done, Mom!" Alas, it was not to be.....

 

I am very grateful that I didn't have a burst pipe! I have had that happen and it is very expensive to get repaired if it involves a lot. Sometime when we all get together, remind me to tell you the whole story of the winter of 1996 here on beautiful Lake Erie. Ahhh, the soothing sounds of water rushing from a broken pipe in the basement at midnight. My youngest son throwing clothes baskets under the leak (Zachary, hon, those have slitted sides and don't hold water gushing from a 3 inch pipe. Thanks for trying though!) while I scramble frantically to remember where the main shut-off for the house is. I had a 1 month water bill over a thousand dollars, but at least the city let me pay it off in installments. Yeah, they're so good about helping the single gal out....(sarcasm intended)

 

So, I think I'll go hop in the shower now and clean the gunk I feel is clinging to every inch of skin and fragrance away the sewer fumes that are surely emanating from my pores. Now, I cannot smell myself, but the dog seems to like me more for some reason (without even having had a treat this morning) so it's got to be the *eau de Pipegunk*, I just know it. I also know that one thing raising my sons alone did was to force me to learn how to do many things I never knew I could. Who knows, I may even get to manage my Yankees someday....

I am not a lover of 'drama'. I don't mean drama as in acting. I mean the false drama in life that some seem to thrive on. I suppose in a sense, that is inherently a type of acting too though. I have a hard time understanding how everything can be absolutely perfect one minute and then, in the next, it has gone to hell. I find people like that time consuming, exhausting to try and reason with, and it may sound very snipey to say, but they aren't worth the time or energy it requires to try and appease them. That is not my place or my job, but I sometimes get sucked into it just like everyone else does.

 

Why have so many deemed it their inherent right to place expectations on other's to live up to their standards? Some words of advice, given to me many years ago, still make sense and still withstand every attempt at dealing with life in general.  The minute I place expectations on another human being, I am setting myself up for a letdown and the beginnings of anger and resentment. No one person is perfect, but yet, some think it is acceptable to inform them how to live their lives, how to do their jobs, how to treat others, and when the 'requirements' aren't met, calmness and caring go right out the window. I remember my sons when they were toddlers. When given boundaries, which all kids rebel at, but need and actually want, they would 'get back at me.' How? It could be in the form of destroying a huge, well built tower of blocks, with one accurately planted foot. It could be tearing up a page from a coloring book they had just labored over. It could be going to bed hungry, because rather than wait for dessert after dinner, they decided to punish ME by not eating anything, period. Now obviously, this is how a child's mind and reasoning develops. It's not until they get older that they learn, "Gee, that didn't really affect Mom or anyone else, but it sure did bother me!"  Does 'cut off your nose to spite your face' come to mind?

 

Why do so many adults behave like this? Passive-aggressive adults can destroy a relationship, gradually eroding it, just like the sea does the shore. What is passive-aggressive behaviour? It's the person you have heard say a 100 times, "Oh, I'll eat just about anything, I love all food." Then when you invite them to dine at your table and they see you have made a salad with cheese and croutons, 'that look' passes across their face. Isn't that something you like? Well, no, I have always hated salad with that on it, 'but it's okay. I'll just eat it anyway.' As if I have just imposed on their sensibilities, but they'll put up with it. Now I realize this may sound like a ridiculous example, but it's a good illustration of what I am trying to convey. This is the same person who offers to go shopping and halfway through, informs you they've had a migraine for the last 2 hours, 'but it's okay, I wanted you to enjoy yourself.' Well, you know what? At this point in my life, I no longer have room for this. I don't have room for martyrs, or victims, or people who impose their self serving attitudes on me. If you would rather keep your mouth shut about what is bothering you, don't be upset with me for a week because I can't read minds. Don't, out of the clear blue, start loudly voicing every perceived thing, real or not, that has gone wrong for you, that has been done to you, and get upset with me because I didn't coddle you back from the  destructive forces of your self pity. If you want to kick down your tower of blocks, tear up your artwork, or go without dinner, fine. Do it, by all means, but DO NOT expect me to tell you not to.

 

Today ushers in a new leader for this country I live in and love. We demand change, we have been promised change, and we need change. Why do so many think that one man is going to bring forth that change? It's high time we all start changing how we act, collectively and in the smallest way, and then and only then, will we see any change come to fruition.

 

The next time you want to complain about the retail person or anyone else who held you up and wasted your valuable time, think about this. Maybe that human was just told hours earlier that they have a child or loved one who is very ill and might very well die and they have no health insurance. Maybe they were served divorce papers just a few hours earlier. Maybe they have no idea how they will feed their children or keep the heat and electric on until the next paycheck. Maybe they found out that very day you would no longer have to deal with their ineptness, because they were told not to come back to work.

 

We can become so wrapped up in ourselves that we forget we need other people, even those who seem to be the proverbial thorn in our sides. We need to start being grateful for what we do have instead of constantly complaining about what we should have. We need to realize that we can hurt another just as deeply by our inaction and our silence, as we can with our words and our fists. I have never been very well adapted to being given the 'silent treatment'. Any more than I have to being screamed at or berated, 'for my own good'.

 

Life will always involve pain of some type at some time for all of us. True misery, however, is optional. If you want to be miserable, have at it. Please leave my name off the invite list. I prefer to spend my time living rather than just resolving myself to 'nobly dying'. At the rate we seem to be going, there may be no one left knowing how to spell 'MARTYR' when the time comes to carve your headstone.....

 

 

 

I am, as always, amazed at the power our words have. Your's have given me the boost I need and reassured me once again that no matter how alone or isolated we may feel, we NEVER are. We are the sum of each other's parts.

I am off to shower now, clean the 8 inches of snow and ice off the car, and hit the road for another appointment. This will be an easy one with my Pain Management doc and getting my meds refilled.

 

You'll all be with me on the journey.....

 

Have whatever kind of day you 'choose' to have. Just remember - you will never get it back.

I obviously survived the grueling day with the surgeon yesterday, I'm here writing about it. My body is rebelling from too much (necessary) manipulation and testing, but more than that, my mind is reeling. I didn't sleep last night and feel like I am in an emotional vacuum at the moment.

 

A couple people on here are aware of the condition I have, arachnoiditis. If you are interested (and believe me, you don't have to be), here is an easy to understand link explaining what that is:

http://www.spineuniverse.com/displayarticle.php/article180.html

I have gone through most all the 'treatment methods' stated on there, trust me, and it is why I went on full disability midway through 2007 after fighting with the government and powers that be for almost 4 years to get it. I have worked since I was 14, put myself through college and got my Masters, raised my sons with no help for 12 years (after divorcing), worked as a specialized R.N. and also taught, until I collapsed for the final time in October of 2003 - bending over to put a freaking teaching tape on Diagnostics into a VCR, can you believe that?! It would sound sooo much more dramatic (and worth it) if I had done it while doing a 'freefall' from a plane, over the Grand Canyon, and been taken down by a sudden updraft. Better yet - having mindblowing sex with Trent Reznor (sorry Clare!) and we fell off the bed in each other's arms at THE MOMENT.....

 

Because of the surgeries I have had to have and also the scoliosis I was born with, I found out yesterday that I have 2 fractures in my spine that have to be taken care of. It is not a lack of bone density, thankfully the one thing I DON'T have is osteoporosis, just too much trauma to bone from structural damage and age. I may be going on 52, but I have the spine of an 80 year old - one who has made a living wrecking cars by slamming into them. (I had to insert a little sick humor there.)

 

I have more diagnostic tests I have to have done in order to see if I can withstand/qualify for the surgery. Biggest thing this morning is finding someone who can drive me because I will need to be sedated for those. If I qualify for surgery, I will be unable, for the most part, to do anything for at least 4 - 6 MONTHS. The docs will go in from the front, moving aside my intestines and other organs, and from the back to access my spine, bone will be harvested from my hip or pelvis, and I will be fused, but not by the standard and fairly commonly used procedure with screws, etc. There is a very new type of titanium cage system and the risk and reason it is not done by more than a few neuro/spine surgeons, is the chance of paralysis due to very extensive nerve and spinal column repositioning, which will be difficult because of the curvature I already have from the scoliosis. I know that 2 people on FT are very knowledgable about scoliosis and correcting it. In my case, the moving of my spine will be done during the surgery, to get the hardware in, and not over a period of time as it is with the rods used to correct scoliosis. The surgery is anywhere from 10 - 12+ HOURS long, but I was told to anticipate the longer and most likely around 14 hours. That is a hell of a long time to be sedated and to trust a surgical and anesthesia team with my life. The alternative is a wheelchair becoming my new best friend and that is something I cannot even look at right now, even though it has been mentioned on a number of occasions. I hate having to use a cane as it is, but if anyone ever sees a really cool one, let me know and I'll add it to my ensemble. I was told this will not alleviate the constant pain, that is just not possible. It will hopefully keep me walking, bottom line.

 

I feel as if I am truly in the *damned if you do and damned if you don't*. I am beyond grateful that I have the medical background and knowledge I do. I am scared enough, but at least I understand most of what is being told and done to me and have for most of the years I have been plagued by this body of mine. I have struggled a losing battle with my back and spine since I have been 13 years old. Now, I feel I am entering into *The Supreme Battle* and hope I am able to come out the winner, if there is one. Never, ever, did I once think it would come to this, but it has. I always thought, assumed if you will, and certainly wanted to, work until I was told I couldn't anymore because I was too old or too senile and had 'lost my edge'.

 

The *last but not least* that is adding to my stress? I have got to quit smoking, period! I never smoked that much, but being home, stressed out over finances, and in pain, it is one of my crutches and I smoke more now than I ever did. There, it is out! Knowing what I do about the human body, cancer, and all the rest, how could I smoke, I know. If anyone wants to tell me what a filthy, disgusting habit it is, save your breath, I already know that too and don't need anyone preaching to me! The chemicals in cigarettes destroy bone and the healing proces, the fusion will NOT take, and bottom line, Dr. Orr told me yesterday "You have to or I will not even consider taking you on. Don't try and fool me because I will be swabbing you for nicotine and I'll know. The success rate for this is around 30% in non-smokers and 5% at best for smokers." I'm not sure how I'll accomplish that part of this whole thing right at this moment in time. I cannot use the gum or patches, they contain nicotine and other chemicals, so it has to be on my own.

 

So, I have given you all my fears as of 1:40pm. I'm sure I'll have more and I'm sure I will be attempting a long nap very shortly. That, my friends, is about the only thing I am sure of. Ah, add to that this. Whether you know me or not, whether you like me or not, I am a human being who just poured out a lot of serious stuff in my life and I welcome any good thoughts being sent my way. If you haven't figured it out from my previous postings, I believe in positive thinking and right now I could definitely use 'a little help from my friends'.

 

Sandy

I am amazed, as always, what a blur one year can be while it is being lived. Then, as always, when it ends and I look back, I realize how clear that blur becomes. Don't we all tend to compartmentalize events into the 'great, good, okay, pretty bad, and freakin awful' when you think about it?

 

New Years Eve was spent with Katie and 3 other friends. We drank too much coffee, ate too much cheesecake (and popcorn and whatever else we could find here), and had *planned on* watching movies and playing cards. Plans seem to change and the movies/cards went out the window in favor of Bruce Springsteen Live '75-'78 (his best in my opinion), Carly Simon, Neil Young, and talking until 2:00am. That is the latest I have made it on New Years in ages. (I think the last time was when my youngest son was up all night vomiting with the flu as a matter of fact and that was, oh, about 7 years ago. Yeah, I live on the edge...)

 

You might think, if you read my last blog, that it was overshadowed by great sadness and lots of tears, talking about Clarence dying. Nah, not in the least. We did cry - tears of laughter over all the hilarious and stupid things that have happened or one of us has done. Tears of sadness for people and pets lost and kids growing up too fast. Tears of gratitude for still being, relatively, in one piece and knowing that, for right now, we have the chance to make more memories. Isn't that a great feeling? I think it is and if you don't, maybe you aren't living in the day, a cliche I detest, but will use here anyway. That's about all we can do if you think about it.

 

We can choose to define our future by our past, which if I chose that, I would have one damn bleak looking future, let me tell you. Growing up with a mother suffering from paranoid schizophrenia and alcoholism, most of my childhood memories aren't that great and especially those of the holidays - at least not the ones I have. There are huge chunks of time I CANNOT remember, but I believe that is my mind's way of protecting me. If and when I am supposed to have *total recall*, I will. I don't worry about it. I spent too many years looking for signs of the mental illness in myself, because it is hereditary, and then realized I most likely wouldn't know if I was developing it anyway! I'm not making light of it, trust me, but it is kind of funny when I think about it. I was afraid to have children of my own, the thought almost paralyzed me, because I got caught up in the *What Ifs*. Well, I raised my sons, now have my grandchildren, and am still reasonably sane - depending on the day and whose opinion you go by.

 

We did talk a lot about Clarence last night, but we talked about the things he left all of us. When someone dies, we don't grieve for them, we grieve for ourselves and what WE have lost. I refuse to define Clarence, or anyone I have loved, by the years they spent walking on this Earth. If all I can look at is 'He lived 35 years and died', I've left out all the in betweens and all the future moments he will still be a part of. My mother died on her 60th birthday, New Years Day, and a year and a half later, my father died at the age of 63. They are still with me every single day and they live on through my sons and through Spencer and Grace. It's uncanny, but my gene pool must be awfully strong because my sons both have my blonde-red hair/blue eyes and so do Spencer and Grace. My son's father had black hair/brown eyes and so does my daughter-in-law, Kendra. She always jokes, when anyone comments on the kid's looks, that "she may have carried them for 9 months, but still has NO idea who the mother was. She and Kirk could have 10 more (which isn't going to happen) and every one would look like a Spencer (my maiden name) through and through."

 

Someone very wise recently pointed out to me that it is all right to be angry, depressed, scared, and not to get caught up in the *being too strong*. It was, for the most part, referring to my daily pain, the upcoming appointment with the surgeon, and what my future holds. Well, she is right. I assured her I DO get very angry, very depressed at times, and right now, I am damn scared. I am also damn grateful. As I said in the beginning of this 'novel' that has come out of me, I still have time to make more memories. I have friends to share them with while they are being made and friends to share them with after they have gone into the mysterious 'Book of Life'. I could choose to sit and feel sorry for myself and all the bad that has happened to me, it's relatively easy to do. Or, I can get out of all the 'drama', put one foot in front of the other, and remind myself how good my life is. We all know someone who is a cloud of doom and gloom, they are always but an 'oy vey!' away from the next perceived tale of woe. I do not want to be remembered as 'Oh, THAT woman! Did she ever have a good day in her life?!'

 

Now you know where my blog title came from - 'Up or down, it's all in the perspective....'

So get out there and make some memories of your own. Don't sit on a couch with companions like 'would haves, should haves, or could haves', because you will miss what is right in front of your face. I don't want to wager how much time I have left to turn things around and be a better mother/friend/person, do you?

 

Sandy

 

"We can do no great things - only small things with great love."

Mother Theresa

 

This past week has been one I would not have expected, nor would I have asked for much of it, but isn't that how life is with the things we do not control?

 

I was informed I need yet another major surgery in order to continue walking. There is the possibility that it cannot be done and I know what the outcome will be if that is the case. I will deal with that if and when it happens. All I can do is hope that the surgeon will take me on. He is only one of 3 in the entire U.S. that does this type of neuro/spinal procedure. Currently, he is out of the country helping someone else who cannot get here. He is back on the 5th of January and I see him on the 6th. At least I will have Christmas and New Year NOT spent flat on my back and in so much post-op pain I am delirious. That has happened too many times in the last 6 years while important things were going on that I would have liked to have been a part of - in more than spirit only.

 

A good friend of mine, husband of one of *The Girls Circle* (yes, we are not all 'girls' anymore, some are in their late 30's, 40's, and others, like me, are in their 50's, but they are and have been my support group for years and a few are nurses I worked with and also taught) died on Sunday. Clarence said he was tired, went in to lay down in the late afternoon, and never woke up. He was only 35 years old. Nothing healthwise wrong so will have to wait for the autopsy in a couple weeks. His wife, Katie, is devastated and their almost 2 year old son, Marcus, has no idea where Daddy is. He does know that he will not be in their lives anymore though. I don't believe in telling young children that someone is sleeping when they are dead. Why allow a child to think they will wake back up?! I couldn't go to the Memorial Service or the funeral because I was travelling back and forth, going through tests out of town Monday - Wednesday, wiped out, and physically shot. That is okay, I am around now to help pick up the pieces  and will be in the years to come.

 

Yesterday, I had a surprise visit from my son, Kirk, DIL Kendra, and grandchildren, Spencer and Grace (they are the ones in my avatar pic). It was exactly what I needed. About an hour into the visit, who shows up but Katie and another couple who are helping her out right now. My grandson, Spencer, will be five on the 20th and is one of Katie's biggest fans. He knew about Clarence dying after hearing us talking. Katie and I went into my living room while the rest stayed in the noisy family room. About 20 minutes into us talking, and of course crying, Spencer quietly walked in, followed by an unusually 'mute' Gracie - she is only 17 months. Spencer scootched between us on the huge couch, Gracie climbed up on my lap (not having a clue what was going on, just knew it was a 'time to be quiet'), and then Spencer wrapped his little arms around Katie's neck and said tearfully "I love you and I'm sorry you are sad..." Better medicine has never and will never be prescribed. All the while Grace did not move a muscle. She sensed, just like an animal, that something was not right. Through her tears, Katie looked at me and just nodded her head as if to say, "My world will eventually be restored, but never the same."

 

Once more I am reminded how very fragile life is. How grateful I am to wake up every morning, no matter what my body is doing to me. How thankful I am for the human connections and bonds we form, whether they last for an hour, a day, or many years. If I judged my own life on only my achievements, which I have many and am proud of, or by only the 'good times', I would leave out vast chunks of painful times that bring their own kind of joy. I simply had to learn to find that 'joy amidst the pain'. Without it, I would be far less in whatever time I am granted on this planet...

   Well, I have finally done it. *It* being entering into the world of cyberblogging. We'll see how it goes. I have always journalled at home to sweep out the mental cobwebs that collect, but have never made them open to anyone else's eyes. This will obviously be more private because it really has to. I am a trusting person, after it has been gained, but I am not foolish. I have Jordan, my dog for anyone who doesn't know that and happens to be reading this, and my friends to hear the *not for public viewing* aspect of my life. Thank God for both because I don't know how I would get along without either. Those of you on here that do share that part of my life know who you are.

 

   This day started out in a funk. I have always had very vivid, in-color dreams all my life. That can be wonderful and also a curse, as in today. I woke, heart pounding with a horrid sense of doom after a nightmare about my youngest son. Many times the things I dream have a relation to real life - they may play out differently, but the *theme* seems to remain the same. I know our dreams are often manifestations of stressers in our lives and since I have bushels of those right at the moment, the dream comes as no huge surprise. I DO NOT like that feeling of an *emotional hangover* in the a.m. because it can carry through the entire day. I just feel off and almost disconnected and since I have learned to accept and enjoy things both good and bad, when I can't shake it off after a couple hours, it's time to do something about it. That something is usually a conversation with myself and writing how I feel. When I am able to look at and hear how I really feel, the fog clears. It's almost like listening to or reading someone else's thoughts and feelings and then telling them what I would do. It may sound strange if you've never tried it or thought about it that way, but it works for me and that's what matters, right? I alone am responsible for how I feel, no one can MAKE me feel anything unless I ALLOW them to. Precisely why I will not argue feelings with anyone. Mine are mine and your's are your's. I make an effort to avoid saying "Oh, I know exactly how you feel." to another also. I may be able to relate by my own experience, but I can never know exactly what another human is going though or the depth of their emotions.

 

   I feel better right now than I did an hour ago. Physically? No, but that doesn't change much and I have to deal with it because I have very little control over what my body does/is doing to me. Spiritually? Yes, and that I DO control. Somedays much better than others...