Jack Lalane, Where are You?

The New Year will arrive within the hour and it surely is party time around here. Last night we made our last trip to the hospital for 2011 and found out that Bob has cellulitis on his leg. He hit his calf (and other things) when he dueled (and lost) with our front stoop on Christmas day. He’s on some medicine that knocks him out for about four hours each time he takes it. Since he is supposed to take it four times each day, I haven’t seen a lot of the dear boy today.

So I’m not really ringing in the New Year at some glitzy party or surrounded with drunks. My faithful pooch lies next to me, but that’s it for this Saturday night. I’m starting to hear the fireworks from people excited about the possibilities of starting over with a new year.

It’s amusing how we think some things will automatically be altered with the flip of a calendar page. (Really, you have to take an old one off and put the new one up if you have one already. Now these online calendars lose the thrill of a blank calendar.)

People make all sorts of resolutions as the New Year approaches. Many expect to be turned into Jack Lalane. (I wonder how many readers have no idea to whom I am referring.) We’ll go to work and get a raise, our husbands will automatically be transformed into a Casanova who does dishes and toilets. The kids will have “normal” hair and clothes and anxiously await our every word. You suddenly have so much free time now that your home is neatly organized and four extra rooms were added. Of course, you have jetted off to Paris or Rome so you don’t deeply care about the kids, home or hubby. Ahhhhhh. Life is good.

By noon tomorrow, many resolutions have already been broken. Your spouse and children look pretty much the same and the laundry has taken over the upstairs. Forget losing weight. Lock yourself in the bathroom with that tin of leftover Christmas cookies. Ahhhhhhh. Life is good.

I read on the Internet today, or more precisely Facebook, that many people are looking at Focus Words to sum up 2011 and dream for 2012. What would your word be? I pondered over different possibilities: wealth, health, prosperity, romance, excitement, dreams and respect. I think I would pick “serenity” for 2012. With serenity, I am not worried while I wait in some ER. My daughter’s family would continue to thrive out in Connecticut. My friends would only be a phone call away. All bills would be paid without that gasp and cringe from this past 2011. I dream of keeping this same feeling of alone time with my Christmas tree as it glitters and shines. I’ve the comfort of an old sweatshirt and the ease of this broken down couch. I can call out to my husband upstairs or umpteen people just a phone call away. (My husband probably wouldn’t hear me, but I could still call out!) Yep! Serenity! May we both be blessed with serenity in this fabulous year about to begin. Happy New Year. May your life continue to be good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  I no longer need the material things to prosper in a new year. I just need God, my friends and family and this goofy little blog. Life is good!

Miss Pacifist Goes on a Vendetta

It’s one of those lazy days when I lack energy even more than normal. Although the temperature is warmer than expected for a late December day, the sun has continued to avoid exposure. It would be lovely to see any rays of sun even begin to peek through the clouds, but that is not the case for today. Instead, the constant drizzle marks the air and sends that damp feeling to my goofy bones.

I have a huge admission to make pertaining to addiction. Some friends and family have been concerned about my use of narcotics. Now, their use by me is basically nonexistent. This new addiction pertains to a Christmas gift I found under my tree, so technically Bob is partially to blame.

I’m the lucky recipient of a Kindle Fire. This amazing little device has almost all of the abilities of a much more expensive IPad. My Fire allows me to store multiple apps besides the expected library of books. I also can go online, save music and pictures and gather a stockpile of newspapers. My person Armageddon is Angry Birds.

There is no reasonable explanation for a supposed educated woman to devote so much time attempting to crush small green frogs by catapulting a variety of colored birds in their direction. Each game is quick with perhaps four attempts per turn. One automatically thinks just one more turn will squash those little devils.  Now this makes no sense for the amount of time I have spent hovered over my new Fire in a psychological frenzy.

Both my husband and daughter had previously played this wild app on their telephones when bored and want to pass time, but they have never reached  addicted status. I have seen this game before but was not interested in another virtual onslaught of one’s time. Looking at this goofy scene on a small screen did not interest me, but now on Kindle Fire – I’m in big trouble.

Please inform me of any organization that deals with individuals with similar problems. The crazy part is that I know this is a waste of time, but it seems to just call for me. There is no expense since I don’t add ay accessories. I just use a simple slingshot to aim for smiling pigs accused of destroying eggs. Little Miss Pacifist has been transformed into a raging idiot seeking revenge while on a virtual vendetta. What in the world?

But this is a way for me to pass my time. I am able to play to my heart’s content with the serene beauty of my glowing Christmas tree right next to me. Quiet music sets a serene setting while I demolish boards and bricks belonging to those frogs.

I’ve probably spent too much time typing, but I will do my best to classify this time as a physical exercise routine for my fingers. Do you buy that? Watch out little frogs! I’m out to get you.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  I’ve got the time to waste on continuing the feud between frogs and birds.

The Corpulent Sloth

I’m enjoying the holidays in my own special style, slowly. I’ve never been known for my amazing speed and fast dashes throughout my life. I’m more at the snail momentum or probably closer to the sluggish sloth. Part of my leisurely fashion can be blamed on my age and health concerns. A more accurate guilty reason is my weight. I admit it. You can call me plump, chubby, stout, portly, or corpulent.  That’s my category.

Of course, I have done my best to avoid the “fat” word. I wear extra-large tops for others to assume that a 120-pound body was underneath all that fabric. I wore long necklaces to elongate my frame. OK, I was a long, fat person. My hair supposedly framed my face to flatter its shape, which was round or fat. I admit it!

I recently joined Weight Watchers and am proudly proclaiming that I have finally lost 10.4 pounds. WOW! I’m sure my friends will gawk at my new frame. I’m worried that this recent change could actually cause automobile accidents. Can you imagine - a whole 10.4 pounds?

I love watching people practically undress for their weekly weigh in. Shoes and coats scatter the floor. All jewelry is stashed away. I have even gotten my haircut and shaved my legs; the latter may be the instigator of that 10.4 pounds. I don’t wear any make-up or deodorant. Every little thing could count.

But I just walked by the mirror on our hall tree and determined that I look the same. Those rolls of blubber that serve as a belt for me still circle my frame. I have lost my neck to only replace it with additional chins. Some people are accused of having a double chin. Mine is past that and moving on to octuple chins. At least I am still in single digits.

So wish me luck in my continued weight loss. Provide me encouragement to ignore those Christmas cookies that have magnetic capabilities. I’ve stopped clinging to the refrigerator because my body ached after 78 consecutive hours. I can do this! I’ve lost 10.4 pounds and only have 533 more to go. Life is good!

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  I am too slow to indulge in some of those frozen goodies stocked in the freezer without them melting in my hand before I make it to the couch.

I Believe in Christmas

While I am visiting my daughter, I treasure our moments at her church. She attends St. Luke’s Lutheran Church in Gales Ferry, Connecticut. I love to see familiar faces that have woven a place in her heart and impacted the Christian beliefs of my grandsons. They have helped cradle her spirit and grow to become the loving wife and mother that she has become. A Christmas memory must deeply etched in my heart this year is of their family blowing out Advent candle number four and announcing “Happy Birthday Jesus!”

Stephanie shared with me a special Christmas “creed” used by her church on Christmas day. What power lies in these special words. I’m honored to share them with you.

I believe in Christmas. I believe that God continues to work in my life today through this story of Christ's birth so long ago. 

I am a shepherd, startled to hear the good news of the angels, but eager to go and see for myself. 

I am Mary, aware that somehow God is using me to accomplish things too big to imagine. 

I am Joseph, not understanding fully that which God calls me to do, but following as faithfully as I can.

I am the innkeeper, busy and frazzled, but making some room, somehow for God to be born.

I am the wise man, on a journey of discovery, bearing my gift to be given to glorify God.

And yes, I am the angel, proclaiming in my own life, the glorious good news that God has come into the world and we shall never be the same.

I can’t write anything more special than that! God bless everyone! Life is good!

I’m Blessed to Have God Use My Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:

     -  I get more time to worship in new places with new friends.

It Helps Being a Cubs Fan

Well, Christmas has almost officially drawn to a close and by the looks around my home, it has been another day filled with gluttony and greed. A Kindle Fire sits next to me about to further addict my feeble mind. Tell me why a grown woman with two masters would have any interest in using a virtual slingshot in the attempts to injure some green pigs. Why? I’ve already installed more apps than I could possibly ever use, but it gives me a sense of pride to have them all lined so neatly in a row.

I also got more jewelry to add to my Pandora collection. Once again, here is a symbol of straight greed. The jewelry won’t help feed my family or warm our home. World hunger and cancer still afflict our world, but I am still thrilled with my new beads.

Bob did quite well with new clothing items following a very determined lesson by our daughter. There is no glitter or glitz. Good job. I have two plain scarves that literally surround my neck as I type.  I pray that I will soon be too thin for my new slacks, but I am losing weight slower than our sea cucumber traverses our big tank.

I can see from where I am sitting our hall door stocked with holiday greetings from family and friends. This year, about half are pictures of cute families grinning out at me. I am curious about whether the background noises would be as pleasant if I could hear the pleas and cries of the photographer.

Our tree is next to me, complete with those big bubble lights that fascinate my husband. All the ornaments tell a story. I can sit and just stare at the tree while treasures of the past float through my mind. OR, I can sit and just stare off and pretend I am thinking of the memories.

Above the TV are my Eleven Days of Christmas in the form of nutcrackers. Next year Day 12 will join them. They stand watch over the room, an artistic line all impeccably dressed for the holiday season. The Three Wiseman sit on a table by the tank ready to bear gifts for the Christ child. Other nutcrackers fill my home, all gifts from Bob after he first saw my 99-cent Wal-Mart variety. Yet he stands next to my German sculptures in a place of honor.

The coffee table is filled with remnants of our holiday dinner. There’s my water bottle and fruit plate next to a plate once holding Christmas cookies. What does that say that the cookies have been transformed into just a measly assortment of crumbs while the fruit plate still has half of its wares?

But my poor husband lies upstairs, a painful example of his worn frame. He fell last night on our front porch steps only to relearn that when the body meets the concrete, the concrete wins. He hurt his shoulder and hobbles worse on his legs. The pain is a cold affront to his pride and heart. He is tired of hurting and doesn’t understand the long duration of his pain. In many ways, he has given up. He cries out to that babe in the manger demanding reasons and assistance. The chronic nature of his neurological injuries has been too chronic.

A funny little aside that hopefully will bring smiles. Our late night service was filled with people who have somehow managed to learn to love us since we have held our long time membership with this congregation. I stood in front of one such fabulous family last night. The moving choirs and brass had the walls echo in wonder and my head vibrate in pain. I stood in the hall for a short while but needed to be IN the service. After I get a migraine, my vertigo usually shortly follows. Such was the story last night. I was swaying away to the music, unable to catch my balance. It was as if I had sampled the communion wine, change that to guzzled the communion wine prior to the service. I was rocking away on my cruise ship feeling kind of confident that I was remaining vertical. Then I glanced behind me. The family in the row behind me was ready to catch my fall as their arms following my wavering form. That’s love.

But I sit on the couch with the light of our tree and pathetic Bears on TV. Maybe I can sometimes better address my own chronic pain because I love Chicago sports. If I can have this much patience for a better “next year” for those Cubs, I can wait a little longer on my chronic pain.

So love fills this home, despite half of us snoring away trying to ease his pain and the other half typing away to describe life here in Roselle. I move slowly when I move and my creaks can be heard miles away, but I know a baby was born for ME! That’s an amazing truth to reduce the pain and alter the focus of this final hour of Christmas. I am blessed. Life is good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  I don’t know if being a Cubs fan makes the duration of chronic pain easier or vice versa. I do know that life is good.

Silent Night

The feeling of contentment has been replaced with the eager watching for what is about to appear. Little ones try there best to stay awake to catch one glimpse of the rotund fellow as he leaves lots of gifts, eats some prized cookies, and then is spirited away to discover the homes of other good girls and boys around the world.

Shopping for Santa is finished and Christmas wishes better have been sent to locations far and near. Moms and Dads will soon huddle together learning the truth of “some assembly required.” There will be multiple goodies overstuffed with more calories than I should probably consume in 27 years. It’s about time to prepare our personal cuisine for every Christmas Eve: shrimps, little pizzas and hot dogs. I’m glad that Santa does not believe in counting calories.

Bob’s got ideas for outside our home starting tonight, Christmas Eve and extending through the 12 days of Christmas. I’m unsure of what that will entail. I do know that we’ll be home for Christmas, relaxing in the wonder of Christ’s birth. I’m planning on staying in my PJ’s all day Christmas while reading the many kid books I have collected.

Bob and I are both slow at getting things done and that brings a strong sense of frustration. We have tried to curb our expectations and focus on that special birth. We wanted to welcome Christmas in our own church and our own church family. That late night service on Christmas Eve will further ignite a sense of serenity within us. Yet will it help cushion the sore muscles and nerves that are apart of our bodies?

Bob has fallen each day, despite prayers for good health. Yesterday he slipped on the small ladder in our basement going up to our crawl space. The ladder fell on my hubby, capturing him until I could waddle over to release him from his trap. Today, he slipped on our first step outside and landed on our cement. The sidewalk is still good, with no apparent cracks. Bob’s head is not quite as lucky.

He has tried hard to have lights appear this holy night with Santa kneeling at our manger scene. A snowflake hanging from some lower branches is a substitute for the star that will lead those wise men on their journey. (Can you imagine, God could only find three smart guys in all of Judea and beyond? How many could He locate today?) A thin, colored sheet of metal forms Santa’s body kneeling at the base of the sacred manger. A white wooden manger scene that has filled our yard for many years surrounds it. Bob is attempting to hide one of the baby Jesuses, but I think of my eldest grandson who asked to go see the other Jesus outside.

We will soon put luminaries outside along the sidewalk. Bob had looked for white ones about 304 days too late. We had some red and green ones I picked up somewhere, so they will be lovely substitutes for ones more solemn.

Bob is sleeping now, praying to wake with little pain. I napped this afternoon, so I am ready to go! My cough medicine with codeine knocks me out, so I will try to silently hack away. You all know the feeling of trying not to cough at some public event. I have yet to learn the trick so wish me luck at disguising my ailment.  I talked with Stephanie’s family. They are huddled with things to “nosh” watching our annual Miracle on 34^th Street. She has extended our patterns to her new family. The boys got to blow out the 4^th Advent candle and get birthday cake for Jesus at their home church. What a sense of peace that gives me. Suddenly, the hip is not so burning and my cough is reduced!

I have long told anyone near me in script or on the street of the many joys wrapped in the wonder of having grandchildren. There are few people in all of Chicagoland who are unaware of my status as a grandmother. With all that bottled pleasure comes a blanket of serenity when I see the actions of a past generation repeated this holy night. As my daughter begins to instill the real magic of a holy birth, as Bob and I attend our church service, as past generations have sung Silent Night there is peace for the world, a break in the busyness and a dream for the future. Help keep that dream alive. Merry Christmas Eve.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  It takes us longer, so we pick and choose the right activities for our home. We stop to prepare in a new way, making sure we insure the echo of the words of Luke. Life is good!

Santa is on the Way

A sinus infection has limited my desires and actions. The new medications are finally showing improvement in my body. Despite my illness, that calendar countdown has kept on going.

I managed to go out a little today. I went and picked up a few stocking gifts in the grand hopes that Bob’s stocking can be located. I finally found mine yesterday. The restoration company did an excellent job washing and scrubbing, but things were not replaced in the same bins they were originally stored. I mentioned before that my small wooden reindeer was found in three different boxes. (Not bad since there were only four parts.) So I will cross my fingers and then attack the world of bubble wrap and papers in search of that stocking.

Our cards have been mailed and new greetings grace our closet door. We are finding fewer cards this year, and half of what we have received is photo cards. It is somewhat amusing that multiple people have chosen their pets to replace any home picture. Why are they too chicken to show their own cute faces? Young children are still smiling out at me making me grin in response.

We are about to make cookies. Bob will then need to duct tape my hands to my side. I have managed to lose nine and a half pounds lately and don’t plan to gain that all back in one painful kitchen binge. I also want to have some family goodies on Christmas Eve. We also plan on meeting good friends for pizza on Friday night. There’s a somewhat logical chance that I’ll end up gaining those ten pounds back to my round frame.

Well, I need to go take my cough medicine with codeine. Then I will probably drop flat on my face in about thirty minutes. I WILL get over this sinus infection!!! My surgery for January needs to find me with clear lungs so that medication needs to get to work.

Just a few hours until the big red guy arrives. May all of your final preparations go well.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

My schedule is my own, so I can sleep, pack and watch all of those holiday movies when my body allows.

Morphed Friends

My pain these last few days is trying to reach my IQ. Although that number is not a hard target, I prefer my discomfort to be less than my shoe size. I’ve had difficulty moving around due to my vertigo reaching its apex. There was a power struggle between the vertigo and migraine. I wish they could come to a truce for my migraine is back to renewing its power.  Needless to say, I’m not out dancing in the streets. When I went to an early bedtime the other night, I had to call Bob to come to my assistance for I had lost track of the location of the floor. It’s a horrible feeling to be laying on the floor, unable to determine the correct location for my feet. Instead, I remained huddled down, praying for God to help and Bob to hurry up those darn stairs.

I was in my monthly book club yesterday when I could feel my vertigo start to spin away. When I looked at the two women seated across from me, I discovered a new characteristic of this unusual feeling. Their faces were being morphed in a circular pattern. I almost wanted to watch for the beauty of the spun colors was fascinating, but staring at people across from you is not really depicting etiquette. An awful headache was starting to join my vertigo so my eyes dropped lower to be able to focus on an item on the table.

I’m curious if this is what some people feel when experimenting with drugs. I surely wouldn’t pick this view. There is also a lack of control. I was no longer able to even partake in the conversation while my head was busy spinning at Nasc ar speeds. I almost needed a seatbelt on my chair and helmet on my head.

So life is going round and round. Even while writing these few paragraphs it is like I am at a ship at sea. Everything is rocking away while I attempt to focus on my thoughts instead of the screen. I’m about to do a loop d’loop as done on summer carnival rides so I better bring this post to a close.

Thanks so much for all your thoughts and prayers. We could use every one of them.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  My kaleidoscope view of the world depicts all of God’s creations in a new manner.

Gains or Losses

We are now in our own bed. Bob is sound asleep with Einstein at his feet. I miss the hard spikes of a resin dinosaur, the lump of a stuffed monkey and small little racecars in my pillow that I find as treasures when spending time with my grandsons. The suitcases are waiting until tomorrow. We had 23 messages on our phone and two missed packages from Fed Ex. Some boxes sit in our foyer due to nice neighbors who keep a special eye on our home after a two-week absence. Christmas is in the air.

There for a while I was wondering if we would get out of Providence. The plane pulled from the gate and then we sat and sat some more. The second engine would not start causing the pilot to warn of a trip back to a gate and possible extra night in the northeast. They obviously managed to fix things since I have described life in Illinois. I like having working engines when flying.

Tomorrow is unpacking, going through mail and getting serious about making our Christmas cards. Our laundry is minimal since we just did a couple of loads at Stephanie’s yesterday. I have the usual yoga as I pretend that these movements will transform me into a slimmer diva. It hasn’t happened yet, but this blog will be the first to know of any bragging rights. I’m getting discouraged that my vain attempts to reduce my frame are not having much luck. I don’t get it. I joined Weight Watchers but have only managed to lose about 5 pounds in 6 weeks. I even have generally been faithful. I often contemplate if God is just trying to teach me patience. That’s one trait sorely missing from my current characteristics.

I believe my reiki is giving me some relief from my body aches. Although I still have daily confrontations with my vertigo, my bad spouts of dizziness are down to about twice per week. I succeeded out East with minimal pain pills, so bravo to that! I go to the surgeon this Friday to discuss the implant of my neurostimulator since I had positive results from the trial. I keep praying for improvement, and I know God is listening. I in no way could be holding down a full-time job as a teacher, but I am grateful for any small gains made. (Quite a contrast to my losses wanted in Weight Watchers.)

I’m going to hunker down to my latest book by Jodi Picoult. We discuss it in my book study this Friday. I’m reading Sing You Home. It will be a great one for discussion. This author hasn’t disappointed me yet. I love the way she makes even my brain turn over a neuron or two. The trouble is this isn’t a comedy. We have read several thought provoking books, and I’m in grave need for some humor.

I’m going to try to calm my body down through reading, reiki and meditation, not exactly in that order. I need to settle the fizz in my brain and apologize to my hips for recent abuse.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  I won’t be falling to sleep any time soon with my body on strike, but that will give me more time for some quiet talks with God.

Life as a Robot

Another day draws to a close. We’re all thinking of last minute things to do before Bob and I head for the plane ride home. This is a little tougher adios for me because the next visit has not been set. I don’t have a new date to view. This will be the first Christmas I have without my daughter at my side. Do I hear any sniffles or sobs?

The boys couldn’t be cuter. Just one giggle and they’ve captured my heart. I beam down at these little faces so proud to be a grandmother. I’ve been able to spend time with each of them on an individual basis this time. I love to glimpse at their problem solving and desire for attention. The little clowns do make me laugh, although writing down the incidents would not appear slightly amusing to any other.

Our pile of gifts to wrap is miraculously growing despite Bob’s effort with tape and tags. He is also guilty of purchasing “just one more thing” so no blame is cast my way. One slight hint of something nice and I hit the computer. Our distance is somewhat the factor.

We couldn’t be more proud of our daughter. We have been blessed to watch her grow into a remarkable wife and mother. Being the wife of an active service person is not an easy task. Yet she somehow is inspired to make wonderful homemade gifts, decorate her home with new traditions and make delicious home-cooked meals. The show-off even made fresh pasta this evening. Yum! Martha Stewart would be proud. We got to see her play bells at her church. Multiple members confided of Stephanie’s excellence as a wife and mom, while being a Christian role model to all. She works hard. Days are not always easy with two small children and a husband who works 90-hour weeks. Yet her children know of their parents’ love and devotion.

Last night we went through a drive through nativity where scenes from the Christmas story were depicted. The boys loved the lights and relished another telling of the birth of Christ. Today we went to the church that hosts Teddy’s preschool for A Trip to Bethlehem. Live llamas, goats and chickens captured their attention. We saw angels, shepherds and not nice Roman guards. We tasted yummies and made a crystal napkin ring in the marketplace. I was so proud of Teddy’s knowledge of the real Christmas when we found that some clarification was in order. As we drove from his pre-school, Teddy asked if we could now go see the “other Jesus from last night.” We’ll work on that.

However, it’s about time to return home. It’s growing harder to get in the van (a hoist is on call) and my bones are creaking a little louder (ok neighbors can hear then seven blocks away). I’ve worked hard to at least pretend to eat partially healthy as I dream of days with less flab. My days have been without narcotics despite some difficult times. My daily naps are still needed as I strive to refresh my body. Stephanie can tell as vertigo begins to creep into my body for my moves become stiff and my walk becomes almost robotic. But I wouldn’t change a thing. I adore my roles of wife, mother and Nanny. Life is very good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  My grandsons adore robots so I must be pretty sweet to have their movements down pat. Wow! Life is good!

The Sleepover

We did it!  I am plopped on the couch, exhausted following an evening with us manning the fort in order for my daughter and her hubby to attend a holiday party. Things kind of went on schedule. Well, we were maybe just five hours behind schedule.

Bob decided to run out and purchase some “healthy” deep fried KFC rather than partake in the planned menu. That would be halfway acceptable if we weren’t already almost an hour late for suppertime. Now adults can handle a delayed meal within reason, but toddlers of just two and four kind of revolt against such absurdity. Even with Bob getting lost and late, all four walls were still standing when he got home.

We started our sleepover movie at their usual bedtime. It took awhile to all get in jammies and comfortably settled with blankies and pillows. Teddy had picked The Incredibles. Bob’s body is not accustomed to holding squirming children let alone being used as a jungle gym. My out-of-shape body revolted picking up their relatively small frames approximately 729 times each. The movie did not hold the interest for my Ollie, but climbing on Bob after terrorizing their small dog proved enjoyable. Teddy watched half-heartedly, more interested in his new Inno Tab.

Their parents should be home any second, and the kids are all settled in their beds. They are wide-awake but at least in their bedroom. I can hear Ollie’s pleading calls for “Poppy” while Woody’s voice loudly states directions for Teddy as he tries to master his new tech game. Bob is settled in his bed after gulping some water with his pain pills. The boys are wide-awake, but do I get points for having my husband snoring away? I sit smiling on the couch, feeling content and proud. I would not trade any second of my day.

The Christmas tree is adorned with small white lights. The number of homemade ornaments from the youngsters is expanding. You can see how my Teddy’s coloring has improved since last year’s Santa. Stockings hang to my right with dreams of Santa coming to fill them to the brim. An Elf on the Shelf watches over me, almost ready to head to the North Pole to report good behavior to Santa. I can hear soft lullabies attempting to encourage sleep while the sound of “Pa Pa” still call for some love. This is the feeling of family. This is my supposed legacy. This is what takes away my pain, but makes me slower to stand. The beginnings of Christmas memories and traditions can be felt in this home. It’s filled with Santa wishes and bright red Rudolph noses, but the baby Jesus lays in the manger. The peace that passes understanding resides in this Connecticut home. Life is good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  My body is sore and you can hear the creaking of my bones but the love of Christmas comforts any pain. I just picture two smiling faces and I know that life is very good.

Fully, Less, More and All

This weekend, I got to worship at Stephanie’s church. I always gain something special when listening to the sermons of her pastors. These short suggestions for this Advent season need to be repeated.

First of all, everything fits under the title of Advent Conspiracy.  That title was discussed in prior sermons, but I think you will get the main idea if I keep on going.

We all need to WORSHIP FULLY. It’s easy to forget the real reason of Advent and get caught up in To Do Lists and a bursting calendar of engagements. Instead, we should WORSHIP FULLY in order to put Christ back in Christmas. I think we are all guilty of spending more time planning for fun events than actually remembering why we have Christmas.

Next, we should SPEND LESS. Its nuts to just exchange gift cards for restaurants. We buy toys for kids that will be lost in their jungle of fun within one week. Our charge cards assume ridiculous heights in the vain efforts to buy the perfect presents for other people in our lives. By buying or giving a mountain of presents, we spend time that could otherwise be devoted to God.

It seems impossible, but the next one is GIVE MORE. We should prioritize our time better. There are multiple options from wonderful organizations that could use our donations. There are food, clothing and toy drives throughout any city. Multiple non-profit organizations would be extremely grateful of even small monetary donations.

The final suggestion is to LOVE ALL. That’s a gift that would please our Lord and Savior. That simple commandment pretty much explains all the others from the Top Ten list. Eliminate those harsh words that somehow pop out of your mouth when the holiday tension attacks. Patience is worn thinner when our minds are focused on the mall instead of the Lord.

So, complete the remainder of the Advent season with these guides: Worship Fully, Spend Less, Give More and Love All. There are 18 more days until the big birthday. Let these words help you focus on a simpler and more bountiful route.

God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:

     -  My pain has me off work since I am on disability. That allows me to travel during times that schools are working. Then I have time to go to Stephanie’s church and hear great inspiration.

Laughter, Cardboard Boxes and Ice Cream

Life is busy with the creativity of toddlers. It’s amazing to see the wheels in their beloved heads turn when presented with a big, brown box and time to create. I played with them as we soared on an airplane, traveled to my home, and cruised on a boat. My husband had the idea of getting the kids inside and then riding down the stairs. The kids loved it, however Stephanie quickly disassembled the box and took it out to the recycle bin. I don’t know who was more disappointed: Bob or the kids?

I’m still rereading and then reading again The Snowmen. It’s a favorite book for both of my grandsons. Snowmen pop out of the pages in a charming tale of their nighttime adventures. Ollie immediately brings over the Peek a Boo book next. We have the sequence down. My lap is frequently filled with tiny tooshes during the day, and I love every minute of it.

So far, we have had the birthday party for both youngsters and a private family celebration on Ollie’s actual big day. Teddy turns four tomorrow, so the celebration continues.  So far, we have gone to a christening of a submarine, attended an Advent party at church, and watched a Parade of Lights. The weather has been wet a few days but the temperature has been closer to the fall.

We’ve stayed a week with another seven days to go. My son-in-law has not kicked us out so far, but his work schedule doesn’t allow him home for long. He always puts in at least a thirteen-hour day. Today he was at work by 4:00 AM and will come home tomorrow night at 5:00 PM. His day off for the MONTH was on the 4^th for the boys’ birthday party. Let’s just say his nighttime adventures don’t last long when he confronts their comfortable couch.

I’m trying to be healthy (don’t laugh) and avoid the two yummy cakes made in celebration of birthdays and the yummy cookies for after quiet time. I was doing great until we went out to eat for Ollie’s birthday. We were hurrying to see the parade and my guys each left at least a half their ice cream sandwiches.  I looked up to Stephanie’s jaw on the floor and Chris’ eyes like deer eyes as I stuffed half in my mouth. I think that vetoed the effects of grilled shrimp on a salad. Oops!

As the calendar pages quickly turn, I’m impressed by the creativity and knowledge shown by my boys. I have laughed more in one week than I do during six months at home. That freedom helps the aches and pains while making me feel closer to God’s presence here on Earth. Life is so good.

God Uses Chronic Pain to Show that Life is Good:

     -  How can you not laugh when two boys are splashing away in the bathtub, each with Santa beards of bubbles?

Down on My Knees

Life is good!

We arrived in Connecticut late Tuesday evening. Bob and I were pretty pooped by the time we got to finally hold our wonderful grandsons. Since then, I have delighted in bath time, meal discussions, and just plain old play time. I have read Peek-a-Boo and The Snowmen at least a dozen times each. We played at Tumble class with Ollie as he experienced the balance beam and long, colorful tunnels and picked up Teddy from pre-school.

There’s a sense of peace amidst the hectic schedule in the home of two toddlers. They anxiously await their birthdays, both falling within the next seven days. With all the hype of Christmas also in the air, it seems like their calendar is exploding with exciting events. Their church is having a big Advent party, Teddy’s pre-school is having an arts and crafts afternoon, and Chris’s base is offering a holiday extravaganza complete with movies for families. Plus, there is a big birthday party scheduled to celebrate my boys.

A very unique event is the christening of my son-in-law’s submarine this Saturday. I have never been privy to such a unique celebration. I am unsure of the specific details, but I am confident that I will be the proudest mother-in-law in attendance.

My crooked body has managed to tickle tummies, make train tracks and buy Happy Meals. I am treasuring the time for I know it will pass quickly. I slowly trudge to the second floor, my speed decelerating with each stair. My shins have new bruises from falls here in the northeast but those too will heal. I feel blessed to be doing as well as I am and grateful that my credit card works just as well in Connecticut.

Don’t let the calendar steal Advent from your life. Remember there are priorities being made each day. Are you honestly so busy that you can’t give God ten minutes each day to read the Bible or fifteen minutes to spend in prayer and meditation. It’s all up to you. Remember what made life so good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:

     -  Since I fall so often, I already am on my knees. I might as well talk to God.

THE Tub

I can feel the rush of the holidays begin to push me on with the tide. Our job as Christians is to slow that ebb and focus on the true meaning of Christmas. That almost sounds impossible now and I don’t have any work responsibilities or little feet urging me forward. Even now, I finished my Good Morning Girls Bible study and was ready to dash off to finish cleaning up and putting up holiday decor. Instead, I wanted to stop to write.

We leave tomorrow for Connecticut, so there are bags to pack and laundry to be done. I need to gather up the presents I already purchased for my boys. I told Bob that I would put up decorations until we left, and then time out, decorating was done. I thought that would slow me down to prepare. Instead it has the speed for today on high. Oh no!

Last night, Bob was already dreaming of sugar plum fairies or the pathetic Bears when I went downstairs with some big tubs to store down there. I even crawled up into the crawl space to finish looking through the additional tubs to find special items that had to make the Tuesday deadline. That’s when I made my big mistake.

I opened THE TUB, that special one that is stocked full of holiday movies, Christmas music and all of my precious books. I have gathered almost a tub of books that get lugged up every December for my personal enjoyment. I always try to read them all in my big, comfy recliner by the light of the Christmas tree. It’s perfect when it is snowing, and I have a big cup of hot chocolate close at hand. I own wonderful picture books for the young in all of us. They progress all the way to novels, with all sorts of books in between. One such novel is The Autobiography of Santa Claus; I highly recommend it. The books have always transported me to locations far and near, taking my mind off any pain that I have that day. What a beautiful way to rid the discomfort without the use of strong medication.

I guess that I am writing you this with a twofold message. To those of you who also have that chronic pain that tries to take all the memory making out of these next weeks, don’t you dare let it. Find your secret escape, like my devotion to my books. To all the rest of you who are running around at warp speed on your “normal” days – stop. Take a breather and find some special joy. Spend time with the kids or hubby. You don’t know how long you will be blessed with a day like today. It just takes one slip on the ice to drastically change your life big-time. Prepare yourself for Jesus to come again. Are you really ready for that? Listen, and then listen some more. If you turn your head just so you will hear the true meaning of Christmas. Stop and listen. Life is good!

One More Way God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

    -  I get to slow down to read my special books and hear the angel singing Alleluia.

Ornaments

It’s a relaxing Sunday. The Christmas tree is lit and adorned with a multitude of ornaments each filled with wonderful memories of love, friendship and the fantastic bonds of family. I see ornaments made by the hands of each member of our household. There’s even one from my fabulous nephew Ryan when he was but a lad. Prior students have either crafted some by hand or purchased them with love.

I still have a small ornament from 1982. It’s just a small box of grapes with a holiday greeting, but it’s one of the ornaments that mean the most. I still remember when it was pressed in my hands by a special mom of one of my delightful developmentally delayed students. She urgently whispered, “This is from Angela Antonacci, Mario Antonacci’s mother.” I didn’t whisper back that I only had one Mario Antonacci. I just smiled inside; much like the smile I have 29 years later.

I always hand a purple toothbrush on my tree. One year Julie, another fifth grade teacher, joined me in holiday shopping for needy children. We were shocked to see listed next to one child’s name the honest request for a mere toothbrush. The profound sense of need and greed slapped against our souls that day. We purchased a toothbrush, but we placed it upon one of many other Christmas packages. We also bought enough toothbrushes for every member of our classrooms, along with ourselves. They were sent home with a brief description of its symbolism. We hoped it would be a reminder of the true meaning of Christmas giving. It is for me!

Probably my favorite ornament is a good-sized dark green wreath, molded in resin. It’s not fancy, and it doesn’t represent some beautiful Christmas story. It’s just a plain green wreath with a red bow and a few scattered berries. Bob and Stephanie gave it to me for our first Christmas as a family. Bob had taken Stephanie shopping at the mall with grand ideas of Hallmark happiness. It ended up that they got kicked out of the Hallmark store for a heated exchange of which ornament would be the best for me. Stephanie won! Shockers! Even so, it undoubtedly is one of the least gorgeous ornaments upon the tree, but it depicts the strong love of a new family and the dreams of a wonderful man to make the Christmas of 1989 the best possible for his new wife and daughter.

It took me forever to finish placing many of our holiday ornaments upon the tree. Each ornament was wrapped in that bubble wrap and paper, cleaned this summer by the restoration crew after our fire. I also don’t move very well. The majority of ornaments ranges from an easy arm’s reach when perched upon a stool to shoulder height when I was standing. Bending brings on vertigo, so it is highly discouraged in our home. What really slowed progress was taking time to quietly reminisce about each decoration that now proudly hangs upon our tree!

Today is the first day of Advent. Use these days to prepare your heart. Find your memories and begin new traditions. Merry Advent everyone.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good

     -  My chronic pain slows down my movement, thus giving me more time to examine each memory from my heart. Life is good.

Gobble, Gobble

The big day has arrived that symbolizes many of my personal characteristics. The first trait that comes to mind is pure gluttony. It suddenly is fine to partake in a less than scientific query into the amount of calories that can be consumed during one setting. An additional requirement is that one must continue to nibble on leftovers prior to the completion of clean-up detail. Since there will just be three of us gathered in our home this year, I think I have convinced my husband to forego of three kinds of starchy potatoes. I hate to brag about this miniscule of moderation though until I see the big bird sliced on the counter and ready to eat.

Bob and I were able to attend the multi-denomination service held at our church last night. It sends shivers to be part of an annual event that makes God smile. All donations went to benefit our local food pantry. Yes, there are people who are homeless and without warm meals right here in the northwest suburbs of Chicago. The service concludes with one of the Lutheran symbols of fellowship: pie and more pie. Seven different faiths were formally recognized during the ideal start of this holiday weekend.

I’m sitting watching the Macy’s parade, just as anxious to view Santa as any little one gathered nationwide. My daughter’s family is similarly huddled around their TV watching each helium filled creation with awe. Although it seems somewhat hollow with the absence of our daughter, we know that many of the same traditions are being followed in her home. Her Facebook status said it all by announcing her gratefulness that although her husband is working, he is not deployed in a far-away place of danger.

I hope to make my first dent in the creation of our Christmas cards as we once again return to homemade expressions declaring Christ’s birth. The huge newspaper sits nearby so I can plan any adventures that assist our national economy. The shopping now starts tonight. I have a big hunk already finished with boxes being delivered to my son-in-law thanks to online shopping. Next month is our version of matching the national deficit with not only Christmas, but also the birthdays of my two precious grandsons.

So thanks God for giving me the means to jabber about my many blessings. You have given me a life partner who loves me just the way I am. We work together as a team, hopefully showing others of the glory of your love. Although I joke about our less than stellar health records, this country provides us with all those specialists and the means to get their services. Our cabinets are brimming with foods, many of which are high caloric. I sit typing on the computer that provides me with live observations of my fabulous daughter and her family. I have the time to blog away my thoughts and feelings to people far and wide.

So God bless you all. Life is very good!

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  I have a multitude of blessings that represent a glimpse of your unconditional love.

Medical History

The colder weather has swirled around our home reminding us of the calendar changes. I’ve written before about my preference for balmy weather and my limited temperature range of liking. I complain about the weather so well; I should be proud that I found something where I excel.

We have survived our two weeks of whirlwind doctor appointments. We have had eight visits to physicians in the past dozen days. Forget about that eating apples stuff to ward off doctors. I love apples, but I am no stranger to doctors. I wonder what would happen if I didn’t eat apples. Pretty scary stuff!

My appointment today was with my pain doctor. We discussed my trial with my neurostimulator. I’ve found that this device helps out during the late night hours. My sleep pattern lengthened. I still woke up with discomfort in my hips, but I could actually roll over with relative ease. I didn’t need to grab onto the blankets and make faces more appropriate for viewing scary movies or looking in the mirror in the morning.

My next step is to begin my appointments with the same doctor who performed the surgeries on Bob PI, post ice. When my pain doctor asked if I had heard of this physician, both my husband and I grinned like toddlers viewing a Christmas tree early on the morning of December 25^th. We owe a great deal to this doctor, luckily not the green stuff that quickly disappears from our checking account. I met this surgeon in the emergency room right after Bob fell. I was always impressed by the amount of time he spent explaining options, procedures and test results to me. He actually would bring me bananas or the beloved apples to eat while I talked outside Bob’s ICU room. When we saw him last month for a check-up for my darling husband, a sense of relief and hope washed over both of us. We both have total faith in this doctor who got us through some very delicate weeks.

How blessed Bob and I are. There are wonderful physicians with microscopic specialties working close to our home. Bob saw a neuro-ophthalmologist on Wednesday.  Say that fast five times. We have seen our primary physician, a devoted doctor who has come to know us better than maybe we know ourselves. You should see the size of our files. We joke that Bob and I must fill in a complete file cabinet drawer all by ourselves. We don’t quite see the benefit of the computer’s memory when we watch a nurse try to heft one of our files down the hall. We also got to see two different physiologists. Bob needs two because he is so special. I bet that most of you reading can’t easily define the role or benefit of a physiologist. I bet that most days we can’t either. Last week I saw my pulmonologist. Bob sees a different pulmonologist in the same office. We started this doctor marathon with Stephanie when we had our family conference with a neurologist explain the testing results of a neuropsychologist who specializes in brain injuries. I can understand why our health insurance representatives must cringe when they notice our name come across their computer screens.

I was thrilled that we had no scheduled doctor appointments for the rest of November. When you add the two weeks when we will be visiting my daughter’s family during the beginning of December, I could break into some of my old disco moves. (I don’t think I mean that literally, but you can picture me shaking and moving if you want a good laugh.) The whole medical community might go in shock if we are MIA. This could hit the national news and create havoc with the medical economy. Four whole weeks – doctor free.

Of course, I have to get together with the surgeon about my neurostimulator. It would be great if this could happen in 2011 since I have already met my maximum out-of-pocket expenses. Can you imagine a big surgery at the hospital and we wouldn’t have to pay a dime? Hmmm. We just might have some doctor appointments after all.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

-       Just think – a whole surgery with no bills. Awesome! We might make the national news after all.

I Hate Pain!

I hate pain! While Stephanie was growing up before my eyes, I forbid the use of that four-letter word. I cringed when hearing the overuse of this verb by toddlers and teenagers alike. I hate peas. I hate math. I hate you! Do peas really cause that strong of a reaction as hate? Try math, you might come to like it more when you understand it better! (Boy, that statement works well with people also!) What did your parent do that causes you to use such a violent word that breaks the heart of the person who loves you so much? Does hate last for just a few minutes, only for it then to be magically transformed into love without any action by either party?

Yet, I sit at my computer using the dreaded word. I purposefully made this decision last night, and my viewpoint has not wavered one iota. I admit few individuals exist who would so closely deliberate the use of a term considered basic in today’s society. Yet I tell you this so you know the degree to which my hatred has grown. I hate pain!

Pain has crashed upon the souls of this home with continuous pounding and thrashing. I’ve used all my effort to jump above its swells only to be thrown against the rocks of agony. I’m ignorant of ways to ignore pain’s torment as I fall victim to the true affliction of this word.

Now most of you might be confused about the strong nature of this post. I’m the one with rose-colored glasses who jokes about my medical status and plunges through my discomfort. I’ve learned the best defense against this nasty opponent is to choose the positive attitude. I don’t intend to change that reaction. Regardless, I need to take time to shout out, “I hate pain!”

Bob’s body has continued to be wracked with chronic pain for over three years. When this distress has lasted month after month, it deteriorates the psyche and stretches to overcome the nature of all loving caregivers. Confusion, disbelief and surrender blanket the entire home. When both residents suffer from chronic pain, an air of defeat pounds down on the occupants.

I hate pain! I hate my inability to hold a pencil to write things down. I hate that my husband so readily falls when his legs lack the strength to hold him. I hate the bandages that have so frequently covered my body in attempts to alleviate the pain. I hate the cost of medications that overflow from drawers and cabinets. I hate that we can’t join our peers for dinner since neither of us are capable of guaranteeing a relaxed evening in a restaurant. I hate the inability to converse when my stuttering attacks my speech. I hate when Bob’s brain injury forbids him from partaking in a simple conversation with his wife. I hate waking up hourly to reposition my frame so I can reduce the cramping, twinges and shots of pain that shoot through my body and fight for my soul. I hate pain! I really hate pain!!

At midday, my cries have lessened but still patiently remain close at hand. The electrical leads placed against my spine are proof to the extremes I will take to prevent pain from ruling my life. The two remotes are attached to all clothing I attempt to wear. (I now use a Thirty-One wallet and attach it through my belt loops or use the pouch of hoodies to hold these twin remotes surgically attached to my body.) The sunshine sheds light throughout our home, begging for us to join the living. The unconditional love from our creator and the presence of his Holy Spirit are brought to mind through various Bible studies.

I hate pain though! I hate what it has done to the character of my husband. I hate the limitations it has done to my schedule. I hate the hours of solitude it has blanketed my soul. I hate pain.

Now that I have dressed and appear ready to face the world, I force my hatred into a small compartment of my heart and pray for it to remain hidden as long as possible. I pray for God to remove the pain and be near me when it erupts. I thank Him for the opportunities He has granted me and the loving help that now appear at my side.

I need to go to my surgeon today so a nurse can re-bandage all the paraphernalia residing on my back. The staff has always treated me with respect and dignity as they care for my condition. I was able to get a ride to his office, (driving is off limits while I am on this trial) quickly from a lengthy list of volunteers. I look upon my list of friends and throw myself to the ground in thanksgiving. (The throwing on the ground part is used figuratively, not literally!)

So I hate pain! I will continue to move forward and follow the path God has made for me. I hate pain, but I will help Bob maneuver past his pain and rest upon new adventures. I hate pain, but I feel blessed to have people pause to read my blog and ponder at my musings.  I hate pain, but I adore the small faces of my grandchildren and the abounding love from my daughter. (My son-in-law is pretty darn good too!) I hate pain, but I will not let it rule my life for you see dear friends, life is good!

God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  He places angels along my path to comfort, encourage and love me. Thanks God! Life is very good!

Call Me Mrs. Excitement

Well, I’m slightly more coherent today, but not quite “there” all the same. This morning, I was fortunate enough to provide the continuing education for our church’s Stephen Ministers. The topic was prayer: two exciting new programs that we will soon offer as well as using beads as prayer tools. With my brain closely resembling the product of a local smoothie machine, I need all of the help that I can get. I have found these aids to be beneficial to both my prayer and meditation practices. (Wow, that last sentence sounded pretty official.)

Despite my thrill at talking about improving prayer at my church, it really wore mr out. By the time I made it home, I could hear my bed screeching for me once Bob drove within three miles of our home. I gratefully used the stair chair, and then grimaced as I placed this cumbersome body on the bed. I read about two paragraphs prior to falling asleep. The pain still woke me frequently throughout the afternoon, but it began to give me some relief.

I really need to discover the best settings for walking, moving and even typing up my blog. They weren’t kidding when I was told the no reaching, bending or twisting rules. The twinges that I feel aren’t really comfortable, and our couch does little to reassure my back that all is fine with the world. Yet, I’m doing much better now than I did yesterday so I am heading in the right direction.

Tomorrow afternoon I hope to show my respects at the funeral of a truly loving and Christian man. My favorite part of this chivalrous gentleman is how he referred to his late wife. Although she preceded his death by many years, he always referred to her as “his bride.” He loved for life. He was a fabulous role model to the young and old alike. As one of our church’s first Stephen Ministers, he daily demonstrated Christ’s love for neighbors. Cancer is a fast foe, attacking all races, genders and socioeconomic groups with amazing strength. We’ll miss you Art!

You have now heard my thrilling weekend plans. I can hereafter be called Mrs. Excitement. It’s always pure ecstasy around here. Yet, I notice improvement today compared with yesterday so I’m confident that life is not only good, but getting better each day.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

     -  When you feel cruddy after a “procedure,” the only way to go is up. J

Thank You God

I'm safely home having survived our five doctor appointments for the week. The trial insertion of the neurostimulator had a few "interesting moments," but "thank you God" I'm safely home in my bed. Thanks to all of you for the added prayers. It ended up they were needed. I got sick as soon as they put me under despite my day of fasting and my oxygen levels did a fast nose dive.  The bad part was that my lungs decided they were done for the day and temporarily went on strike. They were able to wake me up immediately and didn't even get a chance to use the paddles on me.

That also meant that the whole surgery had to be done just with local anesthesia. I soon discovered while people are generally put out with sedation. This was only the second time this doctor performed the procedure with just locals. I was doing pretty well when I left, but the anesthesia has all worn off now.

I have two, not just one, but two remotes attached with wires to my back. I can control the strength of this internal tens unit. I'm still getting used to how to cart all this around with me. Meanwhile, lifting is only two pounds (they have to be nuts), no twisting, bending, lifting my arms more than shoulder high. I can only sponge bathe for the next week (Pee Ewe) and driving a car is just one more no-no.

I'm praying this will bring relief from some of my back and hip pain. If nothing else, it should be a great conversation starter.

After I got home, I got a little more scared as reality set in. I prefer to only hear about paddles on TV shows, thank you very much. Thank you all so much for the prayers. I really felt calm during the escapades. I told the doctor I just made him earn his money, and the most I can pay is $91.

Go kiss someone you love. Then whisper to them, "Life is good!"

God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:
     -  It changes your perspectives on what is really important in life. It's like Grey's Anatomy from last night and redefines a bad day. Life is good.

Bionic Woman to Combat Skunk Population

My neurostimulator is scheduled to be inserted in about an hour. I must admit that it feels almost surreal to finally have the big day arrive. How amazing to have wires inside me that I will activate at the touch of a remote. Technology has expanded so much. You might just be able to refer to me as the Bionic Woman. Of course, if they put wires around every part of me that hurts and might benefit from a little touch of technological pain relief, I would more closely resemble the inside of a computer tower or NASCAR engine.

I giggled when I heard that we have almost reached my out of pocket medical expenses for the year. Could it possibly be related to our five doctor appointments for this week alone? I’m sure we are making some Lexus car dealer very happy.

Einstein is meanwhile making his groomer very pleased. He had another encounter with a Mama Skunk and lost. The goofy dog went directly after her once he was let out the door, and then a second time because he was angry that he got sprayed. Now the last time this happened, it was warm outside. I had on shorts and could use the garden hose to wash down the pooch. This time it was in the 30’s, not quite short weather. Even with the plummeting thermometer, we didn’t want the stench of an angry skunk to enter our home. You think we would have learned and had both tomato juice and boracic acid on hand. Nope! Luckily a neighbor had ¾ of a jar of spaghetti sauce. That worked pretty well, but I had difficulty rinsing out the specks of oregano. At least this time, Bob was with Einstein. Now we are even.

I hope today’s unique date brings good things your way. It supposedly brings angels to watch over you and even improve your love life. It doesn’t say anything about good health or skill from surgeons, but it can’t hurt.

I appreciate any extra prayers. I’m wondering whether the wires will somehow vibrate like my old braces did. I could occasionally hear radio signals when I opened my mouth and faced a certain direction. Wouldn’t that be cool if I could do that again or get free WIFI? I’ll keep you up to date. Wow! Life is good!

God Uses Chronic Pain to Show that Life is Good:

     -  Who else has the opportunity to get free WIFI or perhaps extra phone service due to implanted wires? This could really be neat. 

Bulging Walls and Vibrating Ceilings

I think people might be surprised if they took a look at my family room with various toys, magazines and stuffed creatures strewn across the wooden floor. My eldest grandson got a four-wheeler that could climb over items and keep on moving, so we had to experiment to see which objects could become impossible hurdles while others were climbed with ease.

The little guy is more like a little hurricane that rushes through the room leaving behind a variety of items. During the next month we are bound to find some tiny sock hidden in a corner. His ham personality brings continuous, unrestrained laughter to old grandparents. I love to see him stuff something under his left arm and keep on traveling along. As he leaves a restaurant, he’s bound to take the last few French fries and stuff them in his mouth while he clutches the remnant of his hamburger in his chubby little fists.

Einstein is exhausted. He soundly sleeps on the chair, grateful for the quiet that has now descended on our home. He was a good boy with the kids, but he sure isn’t used to small fry running with delight through our home. He probably won’t wake up until next Thursday.

My daughter did her very best to cross off items from my To Do List. We finally have the cabinets in order. Thank goodness. The sippy cups and plastic plates have been returned to a top shelf. I’ll be thrilled to have to climb up there for the next visit whenever that may be.

I love looking at my bed, with a few remnants from a grandma snuggle with one of the cutest grandkids in the whole wide world. A Mercer Mayer book lies stranded on the duvet and a resin dinosaur is all set to scare Poppy when his head hits his pillow.

Although our limbs are weary, we both treasure the last few days. You see, God blessed us with this wonderful daughter who continues to be central in our family. She has formed this loving, Christian home, perfect to raise two glorious boys. Her handsome Navy Lieutenant husband lovingly balances their family. Our three-year-old grandson has already memorized more Bible verses than most adults. Do you know Romans 5:8?

The love in our home vibrated off the ceiling, bulging the walls with laughter and memories. I loved the bubbly bath time as children were transformed into Santa. Poppy made a special trip to the donut store with Teddy where he waited until a clerk made stripes on the pumpkin donut. Teddy and I made a fast trip to a nearby park while his brother took an afternoon nap. This toddler had the audacity to kick my tushie in a game of Candyland. This Connecticut trio provided the best medicine Bob and I could dream of acquiring in just three very full days. Our bodies might now be collapsed on the couch, but our hearts have the imprints from two charming boys and their spectacular mother.

God Uses Chronic Pain to Show Life is Good

     -  We didn’t have to go to work and instead got time to shop and play. Life is good!

Nice Job John

Today’s reading for Good Morning Girls was longer than usual but filled with comforting applications directly from God.

We need to use actions instead of words. That is kind of amusing since I am using words as I type these sentiments into my computer. I am taking some action though by then placing it on my blog. (I know, I’m pushing it there.) My home is bulging with a plethora of material possessions. I’m still aghast at the number of homeless items still crammed in boxes and totes from our kitchen renovation and fire in the basement. We continue to give much away to various charities. Large trucks are here about twice a month to gather additional “stuff” that shows our gluttony. These donations are still pittance to the material we should be giving to those in need. I could dress the better half of the entire Chicagoland if I even gave away the clothes that my body can’t even fathom squeezing into some day.

I loved the words used by John, “set our hearts at rest in our presence.” We must be able to find that inner peace and contentment so often lacking in our hearts. This is like our conscience for it adds that without this, we know “God is greater than our hearts.” I think of the amount of money spent in search of this contentment as we attempt to lather in expensive substitutes for peace. Trips to the spa, weekend splurge vacations, snuggly clothes and blankets, retreats for meditation and relaxation are all part of our busy lives. We beg for peace; we just don’t know what to do to get it. What if we gave away the money we use in search for peace?

Thanks John for providing time worthy advice to those of us who are frantically rushing through our own lives looking for a way to slow down. I better stop writing now and put these thoughts in motion. It will take me 47 minutes to even get this old body in motion.

God Uses Chronic Pain to Show that Life is Good:

-       My body can’t care for all of my possessions, thus get rid of some of my greed!

Once again, please check out the site www.goodmorninggirls.org

Candy, Candy, Candy

Just a few hours remain until witches, ghosts and pirates wipe off their make-up, clutch melting chocolate bars and flip the calendar to a new page. Our porch light has been off signaling an end to the free calorie give-away. This year, Bob purchased the candy, all his personal favorites, a few weeks ago, confidant that he would be forced to consume piles of donations remaining in our home. He was shocked to see that by 6:00, the threat of a quick trip to the grocery store might be in order since the quantity of brightly packaged goodies was quickly deteriorating. Kids came in mass this year. It was not unusual to see ten or twelve revelers drooling at our door at the same time.

Poor Einstein! I was sure he would either have a heart attack from the deluge of strangers coming too close to our home or cause one of the costumed children to succumb to a similar fate as a white canine came crashing into the storm door. I tried multiple tactics to assist my pooch, all having the identical outcome of no change. I gave Einstein a treat each time the doorbell rang. I even asked kids to give him a treat. I tried the fiercer position of sending him to his cage for a lockdown period. I even sat on my front stoop with Einstein safely inside but able to watch the festivities. He was a mess! He’s now sound asleep on our family room couch glued to my husband’s side. His fatigue from hours of being a bodyguard and watchdog has taken its toll. He may not awaken until Thursday.

Halloween has gained prominence as a major celebration throughout the years. It’s not unusual to see homes glowing with orange lights and big blown-up witches and ghosts bouncing in the breeze. I love the little folk dressed as angels and ball players, but I’ve never liked those Scream masks with blood dripping down the side. Lately, vampires and axe murderers are too tame; zombies now slowly advance upon the wary. All I can say is “Yuck!”

My little grandsons were robots for the outside collection of wonderful goodies. Young ones quickly catch the idea of going up to any door and holding out a receptacle while colored rewards quickly drop inside. You can get a lifetime of tummy treats in just one swipe through the neighborhood. Parents walk much too slowly. Don’t they realize that even better gifts are just one more house down? Why can’t they hustle a little?

Of course, all kids lose a huge hunk of their loot upon returning home. Parents need to double-check each item for safety reasons and might just happen to eat a piece or two or twelve. I love that kids must only have two pieces before bedtime so parents can quietly huddle with the huge bowl of calories and whip through a pound or two with no regret.

So may you all enjoy the leftover treats or the bulging bag of pilfered candy. May it sweeten your upcoming November days. May the calories be carried away as the sugar slowly settles on someone else’s thighs. Can they have some medicinal value for chronic pain? Hmmmmm!

God Uses Chronic Pain to Show that Life is Good:

     -  With all this free candy for just knocking on a door, life has to be good.

Saved by Dog Slobber

I continue to worry about my poor husband. He longs so for a release from his pain and a renewed strong sense of self-worth. The continuation of his chronic pain is truly debilitating for him. He admits the internal rage bubbling for a release, begging for a burning bush appearance of Christ to still his soul. The ballooning symptoms of his brain injury create havoc throughout his body. Many of the limitations are not readily apparent to bystanders, making their power multiply exponentially in his mind.

Meanwhile, I’m creaking (I did mean creaking, not creeping) around the house in search of some magic button to zap my pain away and my brain back. The cooler fall weather begs for people to come outside and enjoy, but the barometric changes send shudders down my spine. Walking is more difficult. It would be so easy to while away the day in bed, but I force tired bones to move each day. I honestly feel that a can of WD 40 would prove immensely beneficial if I could just figure out how to spray inside my joints, under my layers of untoned flesh.

My neurostimulator surgery has been pushed back until November 11 due to a conflict with the surgeon. It’s kind of important for him to be there, so I guess that means showing my unlimited supply of patience. Now it also isn’t planned until 3:00 in the afternoon, obviously proving they haven’t seen me fast for that long. This procedure has already been postponed for three and a half years, what’s another nine days.

God has made us each unique and even created our bodies in a one-time only mold. Each person confronts and handles chronic pain in his/her own way. God added a giraffe moment by also changing our feelings and emotions on a daily, or even hourly, basis. Bob and I try to balance each other off by showing support to the person who requires help at that time. Trouble brews when we both have slipped off that mountain cliff and are stuck down in some dark crevice.

Earlier this week, I was determined to show my tough nature to the world as I braved the physical body elements and prepared to make a dinner AND dessert. The new kitchen was developed to help hurdle our disabilities, but we forgot to install a cheat button. I want the George Jetson kitchen where you only need push a button and specify your request for a delicious meal that then comes flying out the dispenser. My body fades faster than I like. By the time our meal was prepared, my body hurt too much to eat. However, that leaves more for Bob, so I guess that isn’t totally wrong.

I should film Bob and I during one of our double “episodes”. Our home is arranged so I can slide some table or tub to Bob to help him rise from the floor. We’ve learned that when I try to be more physical in assistance, I end up similarly sprawled on the tile. We know many of the triggers that start spinning my vertigo out of control, but I often remember them after the fact. It looks a little like this: Bob falls, I hear the thud, I turn to see him checking out the floor, my quick turn flips on my vertigo, I fall on top of him, Einstein races to us thrilled that we are joining him on his level and covers our crimson faces with kisses. We might start feeling discouraged and angry, but those canine smooches magically transform us into laughter. We’re blessed to have each other. Nobody else would really understand. Life together is good!

God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  A loving pet’s slobber has medicinal value for physical, emotional and spiritual status.

The Devil Made Me Say It

How refreshing to see so many faces who are all part of the Good Morning Girls Bible study. I’ve gained by taking time to spend some time with my Bible as I slowly begin a new day. By looking at the many faces showing off their journals, I more fully feel part of John’s “dear children”.

Today’s reading was from John 3:7-8 where the D word has some prominence. I’ve never felt really comfortable talking about the devil preferring to concentrate on the loving Christ verses instead. I tend to live my life with rose-colored glasses, but by this part of my life, those lenses have received one or two deep scratches. Devil more realistically comes to mind paired with witches, goblins and jack o’lanterns. Although Halloween is less than a week away, I can’t blame my distorted view just on the calendar page.

I know people sin. That’s been going on from good ol’ Adam, Eve and that darn snake. I can admit that. You don’t have to be watching me long to see me cross over that path with too much ease. I just don’t picture a little guy with horns and a red tail following me around the house. I sin too frequently despite my fervent wishes to lead a more godly life.

I was once told that Christ’s time on Earth would not have the impact if it weren’t for the devil. I have to be able to look at both sides of the heavens. The cartoonish pitchfork may not be nudging my rolls of cellulite, but the power can still pull at my soul. I have to accept the power of sin, and yes that means the devil too as I thank the Lord for my salvation.

Thanks Good Morning Girls. I love what is happening. Can I just suggest that perhaps we switch to Good Afternoon Girls? (The devil made me say that!)

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Show that Life is Good:

     -  I have time in the “late morning” to be part of a wonderful Bible study.

Find out more by checking out this site:  www.goodmorninggirls.org

No Mirrorball Trophy for Me

I heard from my pain doctor’s office yesterday with the news that my insurance agreed to my “neurostimulator”. That word almost needs to be stated in a rich baritone to get the full effect. It brings images of a mixture of Frankenstein and robotic technology. What am I getting myself into?

The first surgery will be next Wednesday and take approximately two hours. The developer of the unit sends over a member of their staff to then train me on how to use my new remote. I imagine if I were a male, I wouldn’t need any help learning how to use a remote control since testosterone perfects quicker button pushing. I just hope not to lose it on our couch.  I wonder if the doctors can attach some Velcro to my chest so I won’t misplace the durn thing.

Backing up with a little explanation, some leads will be placed near my lumbar nerves and along my groin. When either of those areas is bugging me, I give myself a little zap, which will hopefully interfere with any pain sensations. I wonder who dreams this stuff up. It will feel somewhat like a TENS unit. Now I will truly have a reason for a bad hair day.

My second surgery will be dependent on the success of this neurostimulator. They now even are starting to implant these units along the cranium to provide some migraine relief, but that is not even in the discussion stages for me. I am having difficulties fathoming what that would feel like though.  Think about it and your forehead is guaranteed to furrow. I’m getting used to needles very close to my spinal column, but messing with what little brain I have left might be pushing it.

My niece is getting married just three days after my surgery. I am not planning on earning those coveted 10’s from Len, Carrie Ann or Bruno, but I crave to be able to stay and enjoy the special celebration. My little grandsons will hopefully be dancing up a storm bringing special memories my way. I hate to miss any time with them, particularly when their visit will be so short so my fancy purse will hold a lipstick, credit card and remote. What else is needed?

Prayers are still needed because I admit this whole idea seems somewhat surreal. I’m ready for anything and pray that this will also help extinguish some of my aches and pains. Keep me posted on sales on batteries.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Convince Me that Life is Good:

     -  I get to start a new fashion trend with a remote tied around my neck.

I Need a Buzz

It’s a beautiful fall day as the sun shines against a deep blue sky. A few brave leaves cling to the branches despite the breeze in the autumn air. The temperature has risen throughout the day to allow coats to be scattered across the yard. Few people are outside though as televisions are tuned to another weekly football game.  The Bears have even played appropriate for their London audience, and Chicago feels a win might actually be in the near future.

Despite this idyllic setting, I’m hunkered on my corner of the couch. All benefits of the latest injection have long since disappeared making a more technological option a better choice for me. Now, we just need for the sacred insurance companies to agree with that prognosis.

I had planned for this procedure immediately following to what is now known as The Ice. I had actually gone for a psychological to determine whether my dreams of reduced pain fit reality. I passed. So in ten days, I hope to obtain a trial neurostimulator. The name alone should help scare away uncaring insurance adjustors. Some leads will be placed close to my spinal column. With the use of a handy dandy remote, I will be able to send electric signals to my brain. This new buzz will be highly preferable to any pain that I have in my hips and lower back. A more permanent procedure will be dependent on my results.

That still leaves my head. There now are some stimulators that can be attached in your cranium, but the use of permanent electrical current shows mixed reactions at this time. That’s fine with me for now. I don’t need to attempt any similarity to a robotic woman.

It would be amazing though to be able to take more steps after sitting for a short while and not make wrinkled faces as I squirm in pain. My maddening hips need help in climbing stairs and walking more than five feet. God will bring me what I need. It’s so perplexing to be deciding about a procedure that should have happened in February of 2008. I’m sure that this technique has been fine tuned by now, so hopefully that means even better results after this three and a half year hiatus.

I’m still waiting for help with The Mighty Three. I know I will have to reduce the number of falls I take once I get my temporary stimulator. The headaches are starting to really affect my psyche, as I want to hide from very much, or any, social interaction. I know that I can partially mold the vertigo as long as I avoid turns or elevation changes. You would think that the persistent nausea would have beneficial repercussions on the scale, but that has not been the result.

So say some prayers that this funk can disappear. I can logically state a bazillion of my blessings. God has blessed me with a loving and caring family. Stephanie’s children are growing stronger, taller and smarter. Bob’s brain injury is finally getting some options for care. My home is stuffed with memories and memory makers. My church family provides a deep foundation of love and support. My dog makes me laugh! Yet, I still wallow in wishes for my body to get rid of some of this darn pain.

Thanks for the prayers. The awesome strength found in such dialogue with Christ is a power that does miracles.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Remind Me that Life is Good:

     -  People who don’t even know me now offer my name in prayer. Wow, feel that power of a good life.