Yes! I finally have some good news to report from our household.
First, we got a wonderful, but totally unnecessary cookie bouquet from a super friend. Now, I’m probably one of the biggest fans of cookies ever. I think I would qualify for cookies anonymous. The cookies were all on the fire theme: engine, fire engine, Dalmatian, hydrant and smoke. The note was the best though, “Do you stay awake at night thinking up ways for the rest of us to worry?” Now that is a true friend.
The other big news is that I am disabled. I just got the affirmation from the Teacher Retirement System downstate that I will be classified as disabled for this next year. I will retire in June. That also proves that I am old, but I won’t have to return to a no-win teaching position.
The satellite dish guy called to see if he could come early and was able to fix our dish at no cost. He really worked hard on this warm day. We finally have a signal back to our bedroom.
Is anybody else tired of resetting your clocks? My bedroom alarm has been flashing more than a dirty old man with a trench coat.
I had a doozy of a day, even having to cancel an appointment with our pastor but the other two incidents trump me putting a dent in the floor. Just goes to show you how being nice can turn someone’s day around. Think of that as you continue on your day for life is very good.
Way God Uses Chronic Pain to Show Life is Good:
- You get yummy cookies from extra nice friends.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Yoga, Wine and Ravioli
Mad! Angry! Frustrated! Alone! Hopeless! Those were some of the feelings coursing through my deflated body today around 11:45 AM. I’m glad that my husband could be with me for this volcano erupting inside my crumpled spirit as we left this wonderful neurologist who was new to the suburbs and already highly respected by my pain doctor and multiple other nearby medical facilities. After waiting 90 minutes and finally being ushered into “his” presence, I felt that our emotions were supposed to replicate Dorothy’s when she initially met the wizard. He was constantly referring to the work of an earlier neurologist I saw following my first hospitalization for migraines way back in spring of 2008. I left that doctor for his narcissistic attitude and strong penchant for simply prescribing medications. This doctor also supported conservative psychological stands. I never found the Freudian bust, but I figured it had to be nearby. Guess what! We left the office gripping a prescription for another strong medication along with the doctor’s encouragement to go to one of the nearby headache clinics. We talked the longest about my depression, which became more severe after talking with him. He really felt that this new medicine was the only option for me, but he was willing to increase it next month! (I could hear the screams of the PRC who wanted me on NO medicine!)
So, I am not any closer to finding some solution, accommodation, answer, let alone miracle that could help ease any of my current symptoms. That marvelous high we experienced after leaving Bob’s last doctor appointment dramatically came to a screeching halt. This is exactly why I try to avoid new doctors. My hopes go up even with my constant reminders to avoid any positive expectations. My dreams of some assistance had snuck around me when I wasn’t watching and managed to enter my spirit. I got there hoping for some secret potion even though I knew better. POW! Those five adjectives that I started today’s post with tackled all of my hopes.
I went to the Y for my yoga class and even dragged along Bob to work in the gym. I was kindly greeted and questioned about my recent absences. I ended up on the floor for much of the class even though my classmates were seated or standing. My vertigo just wanted some attention, and I felt good being back, sweaty and stinky. We headed home feeling a good tired. My spirit was lifting.
I’m so glad that a friend called asking us out for a spur of the moment dinner. Six of us gathered just a few hours after the infamous doctor appointment. We had a little vino and lots of great Italian food. There was even better conversation that somehow miraculously started lifting up my deflated spirit. Further laughter within these relaxed friends convinced me. God was reminding me through yoga, wine and ravioli life really is good. (The warm bread was yummy too!)
Way God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:
- Marvelous friends are placed in your paths to help you through rougher times.
So, I am not any closer to finding some solution, accommodation, answer, let alone miracle that could help ease any of my current symptoms. That marvelous high we experienced after leaving Bob’s last doctor appointment dramatically came to a screeching halt. This is exactly why I try to avoid new doctors. My hopes go up even with my constant reminders to avoid any positive expectations. My dreams of some assistance had snuck around me when I wasn’t watching and managed to enter my spirit. I got there hoping for some secret potion even though I knew better. POW! Those five adjectives that I started today’s post with tackled all of my hopes.
I went to the Y for my yoga class and even dragged along Bob to work in the gym. I was kindly greeted and questioned about my recent absences. I ended up on the floor for much of the class even though my classmates were seated or standing. My vertigo just wanted some attention, and I felt good being back, sweaty and stinky. We headed home feeling a good tired. My spirit was lifting.
I’m so glad that a friend called asking us out for a spur of the moment dinner. Six of us gathered just a few hours after the infamous doctor appointment. We had a little vino and lots of great Italian food. There was even better conversation that somehow miraculously started lifting up my deflated spirit. Further laughter within these relaxed friends convinced me. God was reminding me through yoga, wine and ravioli life really is good. (The warm bread was yummy too!)
Way God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:
- Marvelous friends are placed in your paths to help you through rougher times.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
A Doctor of Hope
The letters in this post may be written in swirls and circles since my head is all in a buzz. Clarity is not necessarily a given. My vertigo commenced yesterday afternoon while searching the shelves in Home Depot. My eyes tell my brain (yes I have a brain) to go in a tizzy when confronted with lots of stuff moving by me. Shopping in a store can bring problems besides Bob seeing the Visa bill. Each aisle was stuffed with lots of things hanging up on pegboards providing the shopper with multiple options. That causes me to have to search for the singular item we required. There’s a new rule: when eyes go in all directions, body goes in all directions. In fact, for each time my eyes go down, my tush goes down in a gorgeous fall. I try to shout “Ta Dah” so other shoppers can rate my gymnastic move rather than stare at me in shock.
With the vertigo at its height my hubby has been great fetching me stuff and just staying nearby. I’m pretty wimpy when the bed goes careening off in space nearly scraping the bedroom walls on the way out. I look adorable when I go upstairs as I literally plaster myself to Bob’s back as he slowly walks to the stairs. He guides my hand and later my tush to our stair chair. All of those propriocentric skills that are supposed to tell me where my body is in space are gone. I have no idea where my body should go. Although that sounds exciting with multiple positions possible, it’s pretty awkward. Even I don’t go out in public like this, even though I usually don’t mind reactions to many of my astonishing physical traits.
When that much vertigo is present, I stutter. There are tremors in the body and voice. It’s very frustrating to have such difficulty expressing my thoughts. Usually, I can settle things down and talk without disruption to my daughter, but that surely wasn’t so these last few days. It took me 26 minutes just to say, “Hi Stephanie!”
We finally got rid of the dumpster in our driveway. The Vietnam Veterans came and got a lot of stuff that had been hidden away for too much money. I even gave away my first wedding dress and a Barbie limo.
Our evening devotion book has many thoughts requiring our minds to ponder. The first day was the requirement to pick our own attitude. That’s a topic we have all heard multiple times, we just don’t do it often enough. It’s so much easier to whine and moan rather than smile when the old body aches. Then our devotion emphasized that we had to do something not just in serving the Lord. We instead need to do things to get to know the Lord better. Studying the Bible shouldn’t be ignored just so we can be working away helping others. It’s that whole Mary and Martha stuff. (I heard a joke saying Martha hid in the kitchen because she had a dorky name. My apologies to any Marthas out there.) Last night, the devotion specified the use of time. I shouldn’t compare what I can get accomplished in a half hour to what someone else who is 22 does. I should let age gently cover me without feeling ashamed or apologetic. Each age brings unique skills and abilities. This book really has my brain trying to think.
We feel so blessed that Bob liked his new doctor yesterday. She gave us a precious gift that we desperately need – the gift of hope. Both she and Bob have homework to complete prior to his next appointment, one month away. Bob has to go to two different doctors while she needs to find a vascular specialist and a group to provide us with emotional help. We both left there standing a little taller.
I have an appointment tomorrow morning with a new neurologist. I pray that I leave with similar additional hope. I’m afraid to get excited and am fighting down positive emotions for I have been thrilled so many times only to have me crashed to the ground. Bob and I were positive that Mayo would provide some answers. We were wrong in many ways. I like the yoga and know I should be accomplishing more exercises, even though I am a triathlete. It’s so much easier to make exercise excuses than to get my booty in motion. Mayo’s “cum by ya” dreams of relaxation covering us in a cloud so we could float through life isn’t making it.
Tomorrow also has us looking to the future. We get to pick out our carpeting for the basement and the type of ceiling tiles to be installed. We’ll also be choosing the color of stain for our backyard gazebo. I have the appointment with that neurologist who I pray can come up with something so I won’t be confused as that fat, drunk turtle I wrote about last week. Prayers of any size are appreciated. You’ll find out more tomorrow.
God Uses Chronic Pain to Show that Life is Good:
- He sure has me praying a whole bunch for lots of things. You get a direct line to talk to heaven.
With the vertigo at its height my hubby has been great fetching me stuff and just staying nearby. I’m pretty wimpy when the bed goes careening off in space nearly scraping the bedroom walls on the way out. I look adorable when I go upstairs as I literally plaster myself to Bob’s back as he slowly walks to the stairs. He guides my hand and later my tush to our stair chair. All of those propriocentric skills that are supposed to tell me where my body is in space are gone. I have no idea where my body should go. Although that sounds exciting with multiple positions possible, it’s pretty awkward. Even I don’t go out in public like this, even though I usually don’t mind reactions to many of my astonishing physical traits.
When that much vertigo is present, I stutter. There are tremors in the body and voice. It’s very frustrating to have such difficulty expressing my thoughts. Usually, I can settle things down and talk without disruption to my daughter, but that surely wasn’t so these last few days. It took me 26 minutes just to say, “Hi Stephanie!”
We finally got rid of the dumpster in our driveway. The Vietnam Veterans came and got a lot of stuff that had been hidden away for too much money. I even gave away my first wedding dress and a Barbie limo.
Our evening devotion book has many thoughts requiring our minds to ponder. The first day was the requirement to pick our own attitude. That’s a topic we have all heard multiple times, we just don’t do it often enough. It’s so much easier to whine and moan rather than smile when the old body aches. Then our devotion emphasized that we had to do something not just in serving the Lord. We instead need to do things to get to know the Lord better. Studying the Bible shouldn’t be ignored just so we can be working away helping others. It’s that whole Mary and Martha stuff. (I heard a joke saying Martha hid in the kitchen because she had a dorky name. My apologies to any Marthas out there.) Last night, the devotion specified the use of time. I shouldn’t compare what I can get accomplished in a half hour to what someone else who is 22 does. I should let age gently cover me without feeling ashamed or apologetic. Each age brings unique skills and abilities. This book really has my brain trying to think.
We feel so blessed that Bob liked his new doctor yesterday. She gave us a precious gift that we desperately need – the gift of hope. Both she and Bob have homework to complete prior to his next appointment, one month away. Bob has to go to two different doctors while she needs to find a vascular specialist and a group to provide us with emotional help. We both left there standing a little taller.
I have an appointment tomorrow morning with a new neurologist. I pray that I leave with similar additional hope. I’m afraid to get excited and am fighting down positive emotions for I have been thrilled so many times only to have me crashed to the ground. Bob and I were positive that Mayo would provide some answers. We were wrong in many ways. I like the yoga and know I should be accomplishing more exercises, even though I am a triathlete. It’s so much easier to make exercise excuses than to get my booty in motion. Mayo’s “cum by ya” dreams of relaxation covering us in a cloud so we could float through life isn’t making it.
Tomorrow also has us looking to the future. We get to pick out our carpeting for the basement and the type of ceiling tiles to be installed. We’ll also be choosing the color of stain for our backyard gazebo. I have the appointment with that neurologist who I pray can come up with something so I won’t be confused as that fat, drunk turtle I wrote about last week. Prayers of any size are appreciated. You’ll find out more tomorrow.
God Uses Chronic Pain to Show that Life is Good:
- He sure has me praying a whole bunch for lots of things. You get a direct line to talk to heaven.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
My Car is in Reverse
I feel that my body has been transposed somehow over the last 36 hours. As I check in the mirror, I wonder whose frame now hides my triathlete body. The recent more memorable and painful difficulties initiated during the monsoon weather that invaded Chicagoland the last two nights. We had some ridiculous total rainfalls at O’Hare. For example,our cleaning lady couldn’t come because she had a boat in her back yard. She doesn’t know where it came from but it was bobbing away in her former flower garden.
We know the pain goes up in this weather. I think I could outline my hips without need for an x-ray for I sure have noticed them lately. It’s funny when you see Bob and I walk. It’s like some video you put in that is running in slow motion. Then there is Einstein right next to us moving at fast scan. I think some birds assumed I was a statue with my speed on slow. I missed their bombs though.
Our dumpster outside is gaining notoriety. Picture a couch already stinking from a fire and add ten inches of water. The mosquitoes are in Seventh Heaven and are booking rooms for summer vacation. I’ve noticed they are flying in though with clothespins on their noses to avoid the stench. Not a fun monstrosity to stroll by since it takes me a good ten minutes to pass.
With an achy frame that could be the poster child for any arthritis or fibromyalgia group, I have started to notice how differently I act when that pain scale hits 10 or above. My daughter has long since pointed out that she can tell how I am feeling by the speed I drive. I go much slower when my body is yelling at me in efforts to avoid any accident. Today I just sat in the car and put it in reverse. I’m more tired so you can note the pillow creases embedded in my cheek. Our culinary skills dissipate – we had popcorn for dinner. I also tend to use more humor. The neighbor’s brother thinks I’m hysterical and ready for the stage, but I think my jokes are a way for people to concentrate on my words instead of the screams of agony under my many rolls of my body. Lately my daughter has called me “goofy” when we text back and forth. I just pray she doesn’t notice the tears running down my plump cheeks.
I’m aiming for my blogs to be shorter in length so you avoid them fearing you lack time to read a tome like War and Peace. I’m not having a lot of success there if you haven’t already noticed. Thanks to each and every one of you who do take time to read my thoughts for it makes me feel as if this rounded body has at least a little worth left inside. Your notes and emails mean much to help me bother to look in the mirror or even pry my fingers from my clenched blankets on my bed. I’m humbled when I look at the number of hits so far accumulated this year. (I’m pretty sure I get more each week than my beloved Cubs.) You truly are my gift from God each time you type my site on your computer. Thanks.
Way God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:
- Go to the restroom and look in the mirror. It’s you guys who take time to read. Thanks.
We know the pain goes up in this weather. I think I could outline my hips without need for an x-ray for I sure have noticed them lately. It’s funny when you see Bob and I walk. It’s like some video you put in that is running in slow motion. Then there is Einstein right next to us moving at fast scan. I think some birds assumed I was a statue with my speed on slow. I missed their bombs though.
Our dumpster outside is gaining notoriety. Picture a couch already stinking from a fire and add ten inches of water. The mosquitoes are in Seventh Heaven and are booking rooms for summer vacation. I’ve noticed they are flying in though with clothespins on their noses to avoid the stench. Not a fun monstrosity to stroll by since it takes me a good ten minutes to pass.
With an achy frame that could be the poster child for any arthritis or fibromyalgia group, I have started to notice how differently I act when that pain scale hits 10 or above. My daughter has long since pointed out that she can tell how I am feeling by the speed I drive. I go much slower when my body is yelling at me in efforts to avoid any accident. Today I just sat in the car and put it in reverse. I’m more tired so you can note the pillow creases embedded in my cheek. Our culinary skills dissipate – we had popcorn for dinner. I also tend to use more humor. The neighbor’s brother thinks I’m hysterical and ready for the stage, but I think my jokes are a way for people to concentrate on my words instead of the screams of agony under my many rolls of my body. Lately my daughter has called me “goofy” when we text back and forth. I just pray she doesn’t notice the tears running down my plump cheeks.
I’m aiming for my blogs to be shorter in length so you avoid them fearing you lack time to read a tome like War and Peace. I’m not having a lot of success there if you haven’t already noticed. Thanks to each and every one of you who do take time to read my thoughts for it makes me feel as if this rounded body has at least a little worth left inside. Your notes and emails mean much to help me bother to look in the mirror or even pry my fingers from my clenched blankets on my bed. I’m humbled when I look at the number of hits so far accumulated this year. (I’m pretty sure I get more each week than my beloved Cubs.) You truly are my gift from God each time you type my site on your computer. Thanks.
Way God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:
- Go to the restroom and look in the mirror. It’s you guys who take time to read. Thanks.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Five Christmas Trees, Four Turntables and an 8-Track Player
This week has been jam packed with lots of caring people swarming our home just to help make our lives easier. Einstein is shocked at the swinging door policy, and Bob and I both sit sprawled on the couch trying to shake the daze off. Our insurance agent sent the best restoration team ever who worked diligently throughout this hot, hot week. They always exhibited a caring yet professional demeanor. We were blessed.
The status now is that the entire basement is empty, and I mean empty. There is not even any carpeting or ceiling tiles. They have cleaned the ducts and had strong air vacuums on for 36 hours non-stop. All of the items in the crawl space are now either in the dumpster, garage to be donated, or packed away. Everything they took from here is boxed, labeled, bar coded and photographed. They will individually clean the items at their facility. We had lots of stuff crammed down there after living here for 22 years. How can a dumpster be overflowing after it took two trucks to haul things away? Plus don’t forget our overflowing garage waiting for Vietnam Veterans arrival on Tuesday. We had 4 turntables, one 8-track/cassette player, three old TV’s (I don’t think any of them work.) The old computer equipment multiplied like rabbits on a honeymoon. We had all of those goodies I brought home after pretending to be a teacher for 31 years. Every bottle of alcohol or other liquid (Editing this paragraph, I was amused at my placement of alcohol and teaching so close together.) anyway, each container was chemically wiped clean so it is now absolutely gleaming. I didn’t know they could look so nice. The metal shelves look far better than when we got them. They are hard to recognize without the spider webs. We actually threw out five Christmas trees!
Our next step is to pick and install the carpeting and ceiling tiles. We do the picking; they do the installing. Even though the room was paneled, we will keep that money and use it for other purposes. Paint is a better choice which fits better in this millennium. Shag carpeting and disco ball days have exited. Trouble starts flowing in when all those boxes get returned. A trip to IKEA will hopefully beat those boxes. I can picture another dumpster filling to the brim. We hadn’t sorted stuff to discard things stored in the open.
I keep thinking of how Stephanie would kill us if she would have to do this job following our demise. She would not be a happy camper. I guess that’s one problem of being an only child.
Our bodies are taking turns reminding us of their presence. It’s like there is some roulette wheel that is continuously in motion deciding the fate of our insides. We can wake up looking for the semi that rolled over us during the night, have 5 seconds when we are actually upright then crumble to the floor to examine our kitchen tile. It keeps life interesting.
I’m reading a neat book (I’ve read maybe 5 pages so far which doesn’t quite qualify me as a distinguished reviewer.) Anyway, this book is 31 Days of Encouragement. I read the first day to Bob. The emphasis today was that we pick our attitude – always a good reminder for anyone. So, contemplate on how you would like to spend your day. You could be grumbling about your view of the world or wonder what spectacular things God has waiting for you.
Spectacular Thing God Has in Store for People with Chronic Pain Showing Life is Good:
We get to experience all sorts of aches and pains then pick which ones deserve our focus. (The answer is none just in case you were momentarily stumped.)
The status now is that the entire basement is empty, and I mean empty. There is not even any carpeting or ceiling tiles. They have cleaned the ducts and had strong air vacuums on for 36 hours non-stop. All of the items in the crawl space are now either in the dumpster, garage to be donated, or packed away. Everything they took from here is boxed, labeled, bar coded and photographed. They will individually clean the items at their facility. We had lots of stuff crammed down there after living here for 22 years. How can a dumpster be overflowing after it took two trucks to haul things away? Plus don’t forget our overflowing garage waiting for Vietnam Veterans arrival on Tuesday. We had 4 turntables, one 8-track/cassette player, three old TV’s (I don’t think any of them work.) The old computer equipment multiplied like rabbits on a honeymoon. We had all of those goodies I brought home after pretending to be a teacher for 31 years. Every bottle of alcohol or other liquid (Editing this paragraph, I was amused at my placement of alcohol and teaching so close together.) anyway, each container was chemically wiped clean so it is now absolutely gleaming. I didn’t know they could look so nice. The metal shelves look far better than when we got them. They are hard to recognize without the spider webs. We actually threw out five Christmas trees!
Our next step is to pick and install the carpeting and ceiling tiles. We do the picking; they do the installing. Even though the room was paneled, we will keep that money and use it for other purposes. Paint is a better choice which fits better in this millennium. Shag carpeting and disco ball days have exited. Trouble starts flowing in when all those boxes get returned. A trip to IKEA will hopefully beat those boxes. I can picture another dumpster filling to the brim. We hadn’t sorted stuff to discard things stored in the open.
I keep thinking of how Stephanie would kill us if she would have to do this job following our demise. She would not be a happy camper. I guess that’s one problem of being an only child.
Our bodies are taking turns reminding us of their presence. It’s like there is some roulette wheel that is continuously in motion deciding the fate of our insides. We can wake up looking for the semi that rolled over us during the night, have 5 seconds when we are actually upright then crumble to the floor to examine our kitchen tile. It keeps life interesting.
I’m reading a neat book (I’ve read maybe 5 pages so far which doesn’t quite qualify me as a distinguished reviewer.) Anyway, this book is 31 Days of Encouragement. I read the first day to Bob. The emphasis today was that we pick our attitude – always a good reminder for anyone. So, contemplate on how you would like to spend your day. You could be grumbling about your view of the world or wonder what spectacular things God has waiting for you.
Spectacular Thing God Has in Store for People with Chronic Pain Showing Life is Good:
We get to experience all sorts of aches and pains then pick which ones deserve our focus. (The answer is none just in case you were momentarily stumped.)
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
The Old Fat Turtle Goes to AA
My heart aches for my dear hubby. His neurological pain has gripped his soul and is stifling the man I married. His speed and strength have diminished at a wicked rate. Medications have only increased his fatigue and further dwindled his self-esteem. Sometimes, he tries so hard to complete a task, yet he has not learned any moderation. He gets engrossed and keeps going, which sounds lovely if it would stop there. The crash comes when he can no longer physically stand. I’m speaking for him for he has already fallen asleep, but it seems shame, disappointment and regret are all spun together and wrapped with a thick coat of anger.
I love this man and don’t want my words or actions to indicate otherwise. I make the jokes and complaints of most American wives while I cringe inside at his pain. I can relate to the chronic pain that constantly attacks the mind and body, but Bob has consistently had more rage burning inside. He works to keep this killing emotion to only embers glowing brightly to just a select few. Their strength is growing, and I know not what to do.
Being upbeat and positive is hard, particularly when my own body is screaming internally. The added humor is not healing to him for he often prefers his own silent corner of the universe. His glimpses out are decreasing. He doesn’t want others to view inside. I worry at our physically disabled state and don’t know what to do that could help. If others know the key to ease his pain, I pray that I could also be enlightened.
I have my blog and love of language to help me ease over those rocky days. My husband tries but many times is too engrossed in his own hurdles to help me climb over my own. My daughter can discover my pain and encourage my progress, but I don’t want my aches to always darken her days. Then I have my grandsons! Need I say more? Those boys keep me moving if for nothing better than a new YouTube video, art gallery in the mail, Skype session or special stories of their latest antics.
This week, wonderful workers have diligently toiled to rid our home of any remnants of our recent fire. Their professional effort is stellar. Yet a burden still exists while your home is filled with strangers coming to your aid. There are always questions and forms, signatures and decisions. I’m pleased to find our basement finally being cleaned, but it is at a much faster pace than Bob or I have seen in a long time. We still are saying goodbye to furniture that held many memories. Toys and clothes are discarded or donated. I’m glad to help others, but I admit some twinges when Stephanie’s first bike is hauled away or a case of Barbie’s is thrown in a dumpster. They belonged to a daughter whom I will always cherish and to a time I relish. You see, when that bike was ridden, Bob could run along beside it. I could sit on the floor and play Barbie’s forever. My daughter has grown to become a woman who now inspires me. She is at a new place in her life where I am blessed to visit. Not being closer in distance is a bother, but being a shadow of whom I was is a pain that melts my spirit, further darkening our setting. Bob isn’t ready or willing to even come out of those shadows.
Others run for cover to avoid seeing a friend when they appear in old clothes and no make-up. They cringe when spotted when not appearing at their own level of being presentable. For others to see them dirty and disheveled while buying a burger and fries is devastating enough to have them smothered in embarrassment for 78 years. I could go on and on with humorous anecdotes, many of which have happened to me, but I think you have grasped the basic mood.
We’re different. (Stop snickering. Let me explain.) Bob and I hide in the shadows for we don’t want others to determine what we have become. I’ll admit it. I’m fat! I rise slowly. I walk as a drunkard when vertigo strikes. My eyes scrunch together when noises tilt my headache past migraine. Basically, I’m a fat, drunken turtle with a bad headache. See, I can laugh over my health. Others worry that I hide behind the humor constantly making myself the brunt of the jokes, but sometimes that is easier, for then I can slowly stand and move at my speed without attracting the same attention. The jokes will lesson when I am ready to let others glimpse at the person I have become.
I explain this for Bob doesn’t have that same humor or love of language as I. His blog would always be short. (Maybe I should try that technique sometime.) His focus remains rooted in the pain and the inner shame that agony rips into view. He stays hidden away, angry that he has changed. He’s in pain, the chronic type for his muscles, mind and soul. Please God. Help show my Bobby that life really is good!
One Way God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:
- You have to admit that it makes great jokes. Come on, a fat turtle with a hangover!
I love this man and don’t want my words or actions to indicate otherwise. I make the jokes and complaints of most American wives while I cringe inside at his pain. I can relate to the chronic pain that constantly attacks the mind and body, but Bob has consistently had more rage burning inside. He works to keep this killing emotion to only embers glowing brightly to just a select few. Their strength is growing, and I know not what to do.
Being upbeat and positive is hard, particularly when my own body is screaming internally. The added humor is not healing to him for he often prefers his own silent corner of the universe. His glimpses out are decreasing. He doesn’t want others to view inside. I worry at our physically disabled state and don’t know what to do that could help. If others know the key to ease his pain, I pray that I could also be enlightened.
I have my blog and love of language to help me ease over those rocky days. My husband tries but many times is too engrossed in his own hurdles to help me climb over my own. My daughter can discover my pain and encourage my progress, but I don’t want my aches to always darken her days. Then I have my grandsons! Need I say more? Those boys keep me moving if for nothing better than a new YouTube video, art gallery in the mail, Skype session or special stories of their latest antics.
This week, wonderful workers have diligently toiled to rid our home of any remnants of our recent fire. Their professional effort is stellar. Yet a burden still exists while your home is filled with strangers coming to your aid. There are always questions and forms, signatures and decisions. I’m pleased to find our basement finally being cleaned, but it is at a much faster pace than Bob or I have seen in a long time. We still are saying goodbye to furniture that held many memories. Toys and clothes are discarded or donated. I’m glad to help others, but I admit some twinges when Stephanie’s first bike is hauled away or a case of Barbie’s is thrown in a dumpster. They belonged to a daughter whom I will always cherish and to a time I relish. You see, when that bike was ridden, Bob could run along beside it. I could sit on the floor and play Barbie’s forever. My daughter has grown to become a woman who now inspires me. She is at a new place in her life where I am blessed to visit. Not being closer in distance is a bother, but being a shadow of whom I was is a pain that melts my spirit, further darkening our setting. Bob isn’t ready or willing to even come out of those shadows.
Others run for cover to avoid seeing a friend when they appear in old clothes and no make-up. They cringe when spotted when not appearing at their own level of being presentable. For others to see them dirty and disheveled while buying a burger and fries is devastating enough to have them smothered in embarrassment for 78 years. I could go on and on with humorous anecdotes, many of which have happened to me, but I think you have grasped the basic mood.
We’re different. (Stop snickering. Let me explain.) Bob and I hide in the shadows for we don’t want others to determine what we have become. I’ll admit it. I’m fat! I rise slowly. I walk as a drunkard when vertigo strikes. My eyes scrunch together when noises tilt my headache past migraine. Basically, I’m a fat, drunken turtle with a bad headache. See, I can laugh over my health. Others worry that I hide behind the humor constantly making myself the brunt of the jokes, but sometimes that is easier, for then I can slowly stand and move at my speed without attracting the same attention. The jokes will lesson when I am ready to let others glimpse at the person I have become.
I explain this for Bob doesn’t have that same humor or love of language as I. His blog would always be short. (Maybe I should try that technique sometime.) His focus remains rooted in the pain and the inner shame that agony rips into view. He stays hidden away, angry that he has changed. He’s in pain, the chronic type for his muscles, mind and soul. Please God. Help show my Bobby that life really is good!
One Way God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:
- You have to admit that it makes great jokes. Come on, a fat turtle with a hangover!
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Farewell Stinky Couch
Last night, we made marvelous plans for a day for church and geocaching prior to the onslaught of the heat. Following multiple finds and plans for even more, we would head on home confident of a day well used to watch the USA v Japan soccer game.
Plans are meant to be changed. I learned that long ago. I tried to get ready for the early service, a rare feat for this non-morning person. I managed to be up and dressed as I even brushed on some powder and a wee bit of blush. That’s make-up for me. Trouble hit as I left the bathroom. My right leg was once again cramping away with spasms from my angle to upper thigh. It hurt placing any weight on the leg causing my fat appendage to just give in. Fabulous. I could barely take two steps. I tried to lie down and have gentle stretches. Well, so much for that idea. Good-bye church and geocaching! We are home rooting for the USA, begging for a USA score.
What a special strength my leg possesses. Can you imagine your life if it would be able to just “give in” on certain engagements or days without being a coward? You have a test coming up and a super party created less than an ideal study situation. Sorry, I’ll take the test next week. You come across the wife of your ex on the day you worked outside, wore torn clothes, and have a crabby temperament to start with. You just step back for the scene to transfer to a different time. Things aren’t looking well. I’ll give in for now and start over in one week. I dreamed of all these significant changes pulled from my grasp as I lay in my bed trying to stretch away my spasms.
Tomorrow should be rather unique as a team comes to our home and invades our basement. My job is to sit and say “discard, clean, store or save” while I am plopped in our basement. The amount of things we have in the basement should send shivers down their spines. We store extra food, somewhat like a pantry. All items boxed need to be thrown away while jarred items can be wiped clean. Christmas trees lean against the corners while tubs of stuff clutter the floor. It’s an exciting opportunity for us to finally clean out the basement with limited work on our behalf. I pray limited work. You will quickly find out if my forecast matches reality. The sectional couch and bar will be gone. They get to monkey around trying to get them out of our residence, not an easy task with a tight turn on the steps and another in the hall. I want to purchase new storage possibilities as long as the rooms sits empty. With new carpeting and fresh ceiling tiles, we can readily transform this space. I’m unsure if they will wash the paneling or pull that all out. It doesn’t matter, it will be clean and fresh.
The fire was nearly the worst thing that ever happened to Bob and I. Our home and our lives were barely saved by just minutes of quick work. Two more minutes would have brought a different ending. Now we are picking out new carpeting and working with a team of people here to help empty our basement at no cost to us. What a perfect example of things turning from horrible to thank you Lord.
My leg is now better. I hope it remains so for tomorrow for I feel the day may be more active than to what I am accustomed. The final result will be wonderful for I know that life is good.
Benefit of Chronic Pain Proving through God that Life is Good:
= You get time to concentrate on turning bad thoughts into good ones.
Plans are meant to be changed. I learned that long ago. I tried to get ready for the early service, a rare feat for this non-morning person. I managed to be up and dressed as I even brushed on some powder and a wee bit of blush. That’s make-up for me. Trouble hit as I left the bathroom. My right leg was once again cramping away with spasms from my angle to upper thigh. It hurt placing any weight on the leg causing my fat appendage to just give in. Fabulous. I could barely take two steps. I tried to lie down and have gentle stretches. Well, so much for that idea. Good-bye church and geocaching! We are home rooting for the USA, begging for a USA score.
What a special strength my leg possesses. Can you imagine your life if it would be able to just “give in” on certain engagements or days without being a coward? You have a test coming up and a super party created less than an ideal study situation. Sorry, I’ll take the test next week. You come across the wife of your ex on the day you worked outside, wore torn clothes, and have a crabby temperament to start with. You just step back for the scene to transfer to a different time. Things aren’t looking well. I’ll give in for now and start over in one week. I dreamed of all these significant changes pulled from my grasp as I lay in my bed trying to stretch away my spasms.
Tomorrow should be rather unique as a team comes to our home and invades our basement. My job is to sit and say “discard, clean, store or save” while I am plopped in our basement. The amount of things we have in the basement should send shivers down their spines. We store extra food, somewhat like a pantry. All items boxed need to be thrown away while jarred items can be wiped clean. Christmas trees lean against the corners while tubs of stuff clutter the floor. It’s an exciting opportunity for us to finally clean out the basement with limited work on our behalf. I pray limited work. You will quickly find out if my forecast matches reality. The sectional couch and bar will be gone. They get to monkey around trying to get them out of our residence, not an easy task with a tight turn on the steps and another in the hall. I want to purchase new storage possibilities as long as the rooms sits empty. With new carpeting and fresh ceiling tiles, we can readily transform this space. I’m unsure if they will wash the paneling or pull that all out. It doesn’t matter, it will be clean and fresh.
The fire was nearly the worst thing that ever happened to Bob and I. Our home and our lives were barely saved by just minutes of quick work. Two more minutes would have brought a different ending. Now we are picking out new carpeting and working with a team of people here to help empty our basement at no cost to us. What a perfect example of things turning from horrible to thank you Lord.
My leg is now better. I hope it remains so for tomorrow for I feel the day may be more active than to what I am accustomed. The final result will be wonderful for I know that life is good.
Benefit of Chronic Pain Proving through God that Life is Good:
= You get time to concentrate on turning bad thoughts into good ones.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
No Power
Electricity is a pretty nice thing. It sure comes in handy when one comes to making dinner, enjoying an evening and that little thing called air conditioning. You see, living in the Midwest in the middle of July usually means it is on the warm side. I don’t do warm.
Sleeping is a wee bit easier when it is comfortable temperature wise. When the temperature made it a teensy bit warm upstairs, no hot, we decided to exile ourselves to the basement. We had a problem there though, for it still smelled of smoke from our weekend extravaganza with the fire department. I have an allergy to dust and mold. When you add those ingredients together, you can transform me into not a happy person in just three minutes flat. I know that amazes you since I am known for my stellar personality, but at times like these, I get, shall we say testy. However, put my hubby in a warm place, and he gets past testy. Pick your own adjective because he may not like me posting my choices online.
Another obstacle with this whole no electricity bit is that we have five saltwater tanks. These tanks have lots of electrical cords in order to supply chillers, light, water flow, etc, etc to the tanks. When we fail to have electricity, all of these goodies required start leading to death of lots of creatures, causing loss of lots of money and making us say goodbye to some very special pets. People called to check not on us, but instead on our tanks. I am thrilled to say all is good with the tanks. We lost nothing, which is pretty darn remarkable when you consider that we have five tanks and had four days with no power.
We kept them alive since we have a large generator. We bought this metal machine when we feared the prospects of Y2K. Although Bob checks to make sure that it starts at least once a year, it has stayed unused, sitting covered in a great big box, all these years. It was fabulous for our four days minus electricity. It was unique walking through the neighborhood. You would either hear these generators roaring away or big chainsaws clearing away fallen branches. Every once in awhile, long electrical cords would stretch across the street duct taped to sidewalks. We shared our generator with the fabulous new neighbors next door. We had extra plugs. We had plugged in five tanks and two refrigerators, still leaving us room for a box fan or battery charger. They snaked a cord through their home, out the kitchen window across their yard to our driveway. There’s nothing like making a strong bond with new neighbors.
Although it all comes down to the simple fact that we like having electricity, there’s a part of me that liked it better without it. You see when we didn’t have power, we all gathered outside in the evenings. One evening, we were able to have a super dinner grilled out by our neighbors. Other times, we would just sit around an outside table and talk. That’s a rare if not extinct occurrence nowadays. People drive in air-conditioned cars into attached garages where we shut the outer doors before we greet any outsiders. We stay glued to our televisions and don’t dare stick a head out to glimpse other life.
Power returns but maybe the power of God remains more hidden. We don’t see the spectacles of nature found right in our backyard. We can’t enjoy fellowship if we play it safe in our own family rooms. Quiet devotion time is shortened because we must hurry to watch prime time TV. I’m not about to turn off the air-conditioning, but I can remind you to not leave out God for you see, life is good.
One Way God Uses Chronic Pain to Say Life is Good:
- You get pushed outside to see nature, some of God’s handiwork.
Sleeping is a wee bit easier when it is comfortable temperature wise. When the temperature made it a teensy bit warm upstairs, no hot, we decided to exile ourselves to the basement. We had a problem there though, for it still smelled of smoke from our weekend extravaganza with the fire department. I have an allergy to dust and mold. When you add those ingredients together, you can transform me into not a happy person in just three minutes flat. I know that amazes you since I am known for my stellar personality, but at times like these, I get, shall we say testy. However, put my hubby in a warm place, and he gets past testy. Pick your own adjective because he may not like me posting my choices online.
Another obstacle with this whole no electricity bit is that we have five saltwater tanks. These tanks have lots of electrical cords in order to supply chillers, light, water flow, etc, etc to the tanks. When we fail to have electricity, all of these goodies required start leading to death of lots of creatures, causing loss of lots of money and making us say goodbye to some very special pets. People called to check not on us, but instead on our tanks. I am thrilled to say all is good with the tanks. We lost nothing, which is pretty darn remarkable when you consider that we have five tanks and had four days with no power.
We kept them alive since we have a large generator. We bought this metal machine when we feared the prospects of Y2K. Although Bob checks to make sure that it starts at least once a year, it has stayed unused, sitting covered in a great big box, all these years. It was fabulous for our four days minus electricity. It was unique walking through the neighborhood. You would either hear these generators roaring away or big chainsaws clearing away fallen branches. Every once in awhile, long electrical cords would stretch across the street duct taped to sidewalks. We shared our generator with the fabulous new neighbors next door. We had extra plugs. We had plugged in five tanks and two refrigerators, still leaving us room for a box fan or battery charger. They snaked a cord through their home, out the kitchen window across their yard to our driveway. There’s nothing like making a strong bond with new neighbors.
Although it all comes down to the simple fact that we like having electricity, there’s a part of me that liked it better without it. You see when we didn’t have power, we all gathered outside in the evenings. One evening, we were able to have a super dinner grilled out by our neighbors. Other times, we would just sit around an outside table and talk. That’s a rare if not extinct occurrence nowadays. People drive in air-conditioned cars into attached garages where we shut the outer doors before we greet any outsiders. We stay glued to our televisions and don’t dare stick a head out to glimpse other life.
Power returns but maybe the power of God remains more hidden. We don’t see the spectacles of nature found right in our backyard. We can’t enjoy fellowship if we play it safe in our own family rooms. Quiet devotion time is shortened because we must hurry to watch prime time TV. I’m not about to turn off the air-conditioning, but I can remind you to not leave out God for you see, life is good.
One Way God Uses Chronic Pain to Say Life is Good:
- You get pushed outside to see nature, some of God’s handiwork.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Lights Flashing Outside Our Home
I apologize for the delay in this blog. A short but mighty storm hit the suburbs early on Monday morning. Multiple houses in the neighborhood are still cutting down fallen trees. Amidst the sounds of the saws, you hear generators roaring at every house. We have been without power since early on Monday morning. Since it is now Wednesday afternoon, the novelty of our escapades is dwindling. We are glad the temperature cooled in the evening. These 90 degree days have us all wilting. Anyway, with no power, I am lacking internet. That provides me with multiple blogs stored away in my brain. Anyhow, on with the fire.
An ember must have dropped down to the carpet. Flames were multiplying as I stood there using the side of our wooden microwave cart to feed their hunger. Another dropped and began additional flames. I threw on more water while praying repeatedly, “Help me God. Keep us safe!” What seemed like hours later, but had to be mere minutes, the flames were out. I kneeled down check under the cart only to see some starting up again under the cart. Didn’t they get the idea! Why did they keep starting Here came the water brigade again. I continued on the carpet for about two feet from the cart. I picked up the phone with my poor little heart about thumping away.
As I talked, I opened the doors to the cart and smoke billowed out. Let’s just say that cart still has four inches of water floating inside! By then, Bob was down. He was smart enough to unplug the power strip and stop my heart from thumping right out of my body. When I told the wonderful man on the phone that the flames were out and we both were standing together, he turned off the siren. Since it was an electric fire in a home structure, he wanted to call the fire department.
Back up the stairs I went to turn on the outside lights, open the door and find something slightly more appropriate to slip on than my old nightgown. These men were ready to risk life and limb, I did not need to scare them to death seeing me in my present attire. Feeling more presentable in a pair of sweats and sweater, I made it to the front door in time to see two police cars dash past our house. Yes, I said past our house. I opened the door and hurried outside, gesturing for either them to come back of a Boeing 757 to land on our drive. By then they had slowed. They no sooner had their vehicles in reverse, and the first of the fire engines rounded the corner. The key word in that last sentence was “first” for within minutes, we had seven large firetrucks, four more police cars and two ambulance trucks all lined up to help. Lights were flashing, sirens screeching, dozens of emergency workers were all ready to come to our aid.
We waited outside while the professionals carefully examined our home for any other areas on concern. Luckily, they found none. We were allowed to go to our family room around 4:00 AM and wait for the fire inspector to make further decisions. He worked an additional hour and finally allowed us access to our home. Bob was really tired by then while I was so wired, it appeared like I had been downing those energy drinks by the gallon.
When he finished at 5:00 AM, he informed us of our good luck. Another few minutes and the entire basement and part of the first floor would have been engulfed. I quickly corrected him. Luck was not on our side. Instead it was God looking out for us. Bob was starting to question God’s presence in our life. It seemed that our pain had only been getting progressively worse. Were our prayers answered? The answer to that is a great big YES! God let us know that He was with us. Boy, life is good.
We both are walking around feeling truly blessed. We realize how different our lives could have been. When you head outside for an errand, make sure you kiss your spouse good-bye. Give another smooch at bedtime for you don’t know what the next eight hours will bring. Check those smoke alarms. Make sure you can hear them throughout your home. Then stop and give a little howdy to God. With his help, life is good!
Benefit of Having Chronic Pain Tell You Life is Good:
- There are many events that could be so much worse. Treasure your life how it is!
An ember must have dropped down to the carpet. Flames were multiplying as I stood there using the side of our wooden microwave cart to feed their hunger. Another dropped and began additional flames. I threw on more water while praying repeatedly, “Help me God. Keep us safe!” What seemed like hours later, but had to be mere minutes, the flames were out. I kneeled down check under the cart only to see some starting up again under the cart. Didn’t they get the idea! Why did they keep starting Here came the water brigade again. I continued on the carpet for about two feet from the cart. I picked up the phone with my poor little heart about thumping away.
As I talked, I opened the doors to the cart and smoke billowed out. Let’s just say that cart still has four inches of water floating inside! By then, Bob was down. He was smart enough to unplug the power strip and stop my heart from thumping right out of my body. When I told the wonderful man on the phone that the flames were out and we both were standing together, he turned off the siren. Since it was an electric fire in a home structure, he wanted to call the fire department.
Back up the stairs I went to turn on the outside lights, open the door and find something slightly more appropriate to slip on than my old nightgown. These men were ready to risk life and limb, I did not need to scare them to death seeing me in my present attire. Feeling more presentable in a pair of sweats and sweater, I made it to the front door in time to see two police cars dash past our house. Yes, I said past our house. I opened the door and hurried outside, gesturing for either them to come back of a Boeing 757 to land on our drive. By then they had slowed. They no sooner had their vehicles in reverse, and the first of the fire engines rounded the corner. The key word in that last sentence was “first” for within minutes, we had seven large firetrucks, four more police cars and two ambulance trucks all lined up to help. Lights were flashing, sirens screeching, dozens of emergency workers were all ready to come to our aid.
We waited outside while the professionals carefully examined our home for any other areas on concern. Luckily, they found none. We were allowed to go to our family room around 4:00 AM and wait for the fire inspector to make further decisions. He worked an additional hour and finally allowed us access to our home. Bob was really tired by then while I was so wired, it appeared like I had been downing those energy drinks by the gallon.
When he finished at 5:00 AM, he informed us of our good luck. Another few minutes and the entire basement and part of the first floor would have been engulfed. I quickly corrected him. Luck was not on our side. Instead it was God looking out for us. Bob was starting to question God’s presence in our life. It seemed that our pain had only been getting progressively worse. Were our prayers answered? The answer to that is a great big YES! God let us know that He was with us. Boy, life is good.
We both are walking around feeling truly blessed. We realize how different our lives could have been. When you head outside for an errand, make sure you kiss your spouse good-bye. Give another smooch at bedtime for you don’t know what the next eight hours will bring. Check those smoke alarms. Make sure you can hear them throughout your home. Then stop and give a little howdy to God. With his help, life is good!
Benefit of Having Chronic Pain Tell You Life is Good:
- There are many events that could be so much worse. Treasure your life how it is!
Sunday, July 10, 2011
A Funny S'more Coupon?
I could start this one with “A funny thing happened on my way to dreamland Friday night . . . A different start could be “I didn’t even get a s’more!” Someone at church had suggested something like “I don’t save coupons, but I save houses!” You get the idea.
I’ll start at the beginning and probably continue tomorrow. People don’t like the longer entries, so. . I’ll preface everything with the disclaimer that Bob, Einstein and I are all fine. Our home is basically without changes.
A guy came to the door selling new and improved home alert systems in the late afternoon. He said GE would come and improve our current system by making it digital instead of dial up. I said what I really would like was a speaker in our bedroom instead of the back door. Neither of us could here the alarms. He said no problem. Now I need to tell you that he had a GE shirt and badge. He knew our complete system and password, etc so I felt pretty safe asking him into our home. He also said that this new system could give Bob a panic button thing to wear. He could call for help if he needed me. We both thought of the countless times he has fallen while I was piddling with something else in the house. This panic button would give us both peace of mind. This system promised to call us soon than the old one. We were sold.
We signed the papers and another guy came to install. Man one left. The installer was here a long time. He didn’t like where the smoke alarm was in the basement, so he asked to move it. The alarm was going off full time to test the system, so I found some refuge in the back yard. I was starting to regret our decision and the extra $10 per month. By then the poor guy was really sweating and it was after 9 PM. I told him to go home and finish on Monday, but he wanted to finish what he had started. So he left about 9:15 PM. We went to bed around 10:30 and I read to almost midnight.
At 1:55 AM, a loud siren going off in our bedroom awakened me. If you were awake at that time, you probably heard it too. I rushed to the box to try to stop the noise and find out why it went off. Our password didn’t work. Coming across the screen came a warning that the smoke alarm by the basement stairs was going off. A British mechanical voice started saying the same thing and telling us to leave the premises. I called to Bob and was about to head downstairs when our phone rang. I went back and grabbed that. Some calm man repeated what I had heard. He said the siren could not go off until we or the fire department cleared there was no fire. He said we should hurry and leave the building.
With the phone in hand, I headed out to scope the situation. As soon as I left our bedroom, I could smell the smoke. I’ll never forget that smell. I called back to Bob to get out. I knew he would be slower so I rushed downstairs by myself. When I touched our first floor landing, and made the turn, I could see smoke coming up from the basement. That’s not a good sign. I headed down the next flight of stairs and saw flames in the basement corner. With my heart thumping, and a fast prayer to God, I hurried over.
The flames were coming from a “hospital tank” we keep for any sick fish or corals. Our service had just taken two sick clams, so the tank was without living creatures. One of the two heating elements had flames coming from the top back corner. They were maybe three feet high. A small plastic container sat nearby that Bob had used to move the clams. I grabbed that and started taking water from the tank to douse the flames. I told my new best friend on the phone that I was setting down the phone to use both hands. I would keep talking through my progress. (Yes, surprise, surprise. I would keep talking.)
The job was easier with two hands. Although the flames were scorching the ceiling, I was able to stop them and that horrid sizzling sound from the electrical wires. I was about to pick up the phone again when I glanced down only to see more flames from the carpeting. I shouted to tell him my progress. I could hear the poor guy advising me to leave the house, but this was my home and the adrenalin was running.
Stay tuned to tomorrow to find out more.
Benefit of Having Chronic Pain Be the Proof that Life is Good:
- You don’t notice the pain when your home is in danger.
I’ll start at the beginning and probably continue tomorrow. People don’t like the longer entries, so. . I’ll preface everything with the disclaimer that Bob, Einstein and I are all fine. Our home is basically without changes.
A guy came to the door selling new and improved home alert systems in the late afternoon. He said GE would come and improve our current system by making it digital instead of dial up. I said what I really would like was a speaker in our bedroom instead of the back door. Neither of us could here the alarms. He said no problem. Now I need to tell you that he had a GE shirt and badge. He knew our complete system and password, etc so I felt pretty safe asking him into our home. He also said that this new system could give Bob a panic button thing to wear. He could call for help if he needed me. We both thought of the countless times he has fallen while I was piddling with something else in the house. This panic button would give us both peace of mind. This system promised to call us soon than the old one. We were sold.
We signed the papers and another guy came to install. Man one left. The installer was here a long time. He didn’t like where the smoke alarm was in the basement, so he asked to move it. The alarm was going off full time to test the system, so I found some refuge in the back yard. I was starting to regret our decision and the extra $10 per month. By then the poor guy was really sweating and it was after 9 PM. I told him to go home and finish on Monday, but he wanted to finish what he had started. So he left about 9:15 PM. We went to bed around 10:30 and I read to almost midnight.
At 1:55 AM, a loud siren going off in our bedroom awakened me. If you were awake at that time, you probably heard it too. I rushed to the box to try to stop the noise and find out why it went off. Our password didn’t work. Coming across the screen came a warning that the smoke alarm by the basement stairs was going off. A British mechanical voice started saying the same thing and telling us to leave the premises. I called to Bob and was about to head downstairs when our phone rang. I went back and grabbed that. Some calm man repeated what I had heard. He said the siren could not go off until we or the fire department cleared there was no fire. He said we should hurry and leave the building.
With the phone in hand, I headed out to scope the situation. As soon as I left our bedroom, I could smell the smoke. I’ll never forget that smell. I called back to Bob to get out. I knew he would be slower so I rushed downstairs by myself. When I touched our first floor landing, and made the turn, I could see smoke coming up from the basement. That’s not a good sign. I headed down the next flight of stairs and saw flames in the basement corner. With my heart thumping, and a fast prayer to God, I hurried over.
The flames were coming from a “hospital tank” we keep for any sick fish or corals. Our service had just taken two sick clams, so the tank was without living creatures. One of the two heating elements had flames coming from the top back corner. They were maybe three feet high. A small plastic container sat nearby that Bob had used to move the clams. I grabbed that and started taking water from the tank to douse the flames. I told my new best friend on the phone that I was setting down the phone to use both hands. I would keep talking through my progress. (Yes, surprise, surprise. I would keep talking.)
The job was easier with two hands. Although the flames were scorching the ceiling, I was able to stop them and that horrid sizzling sound from the electrical wires. I was about to pick up the phone again when I glanced down only to see more flames from the carpeting. I shouted to tell him my progress. I could hear the poor guy advising me to leave the house, but this was my home and the adrenalin was running.
Stay tuned to tomorrow to find out more.
Benefit of Having Chronic Pain Be the Proof that Life is Good:
- You don’t notice the pain when your home is in danger.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Gray is Good
I guess weekend is officially here since we’ve just passed 5 PM on a Friday. The calendar pages flip over so quickly. With Bob and I both off work, you would think that gazillion things would get accomplished each day. Instead, my To Do list remains pretty stagnant.
I dropped off some additional forms at my doctor’s today as the quest deadline for another school year listed under the disability category draws near. I typed up some reasons for this title to remain and was surprised how quickly my family members could whip up examples of how my health interferes with a teaching career. Poor attendance, risk of hurting others or myself in a fall, and possible parent disapproval of my Monkee’s walk swiftly comes to mind. I worded them carefully insuring a professional twist with the proper buzzwords and key weaknesses emphasized. Hopefully, it will do the trick. I’ll find out next week.
When I turned these sheets in to the medical staff today, I wanted to shout out that I do have some good things about me. I am great sitting in a small group with kids. My instructional skills are still intact. I’m able to teach math and reading at the primary level to students who are taller than me. I quickly love the kids and would do anything to assist them in any academic or social endeavor.
Those items weren’t on my list. It seems we so often look at things in only the black and white. I like a little gray mixed in there too. You hear all these fantastic descriptions of an individual. Only positive, superlative markings are matched to a particular politician or celebrity. Then you find out the possibility of a flaw, a minor or major one. Suddenly, all turns grim. Supporters dash for cover and are not available for comment.
As I sit on the ground to avoid an aerial disaster, I know that my teaching days, as done in the past, are over, but God willing, my work helping others still has a long road ahead. I could teach a class at a junior college. Tutoring is always a possibility. My students could be 10, but don’t rule out 3 or 71. I’m still longing to have something published. Who knows where this journalistic bend will take me? I’m ready to help grow this HEROES program and help organizations like LSSI. There’s so much more to life than Facebook and doctors’ appointments.
My path is unknown. Maybe that is good for I am always up for a challenge and ready to try new things. I know there are many options for me because my life is good.
Benefit of Using Chronic Pain to Show Life is Good:
- Time is open to explore many options. With my blurred image from falls, the lines between black and white are pretty blurred.
I dropped off some additional forms at my doctor’s today as the quest deadline for another school year listed under the disability category draws near. I typed up some reasons for this title to remain and was surprised how quickly my family members could whip up examples of how my health interferes with a teaching career. Poor attendance, risk of hurting others or myself in a fall, and possible parent disapproval of my Monkee’s walk swiftly comes to mind. I worded them carefully insuring a professional twist with the proper buzzwords and key weaknesses emphasized. Hopefully, it will do the trick. I’ll find out next week.
When I turned these sheets in to the medical staff today, I wanted to shout out that I do have some good things about me. I am great sitting in a small group with kids. My instructional skills are still intact. I’m able to teach math and reading at the primary level to students who are taller than me. I quickly love the kids and would do anything to assist them in any academic or social endeavor.
Those items weren’t on my list. It seems we so often look at things in only the black and white. I like a little gray mixed in there too. You hear all these fantastic descriptions of an individual. Only positive, superlative markings are matched to a particular politician or celebrity. Then you find out the possibility of a flaw, a minor or major one. Suddenly, all turns grim. Supporters dash for cover and are not available for comment.
As I sit on the ground to avoid an aerial disaster, I know that my teaching days, as done in the past, are over, but God willing, my work helping others still has a long road ahead. I could teach a class at a junior college. Tutoring is always a possibility. My students could be 10, but don’t rule out 3 or 71. I’m still longing to have something published. Who knows where this journalistic bend will take me? I’m ready to help grow this HEROES program and help organizations like LSSI. There’s so much more to life than Facebook and doctors’ appointments.
My path is unknown. Maybe that is good for I am always up for a challenge and ready to try new things. I know there are many options for me because my life is good.
Benefit of Using Chronic Pain to Show Life is Good:
- Time is open to explore many options. With my blurred image from falls, the lines between black and white are pretty blurred.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Is Queen Elizabeth Working with the KGB?
I spent a little time today looking at the statistics part of this blog. There have been over 2,554 hits to this little site. Those numbers still astound me. I want to give a door prize with flashing lights and confetti when a key number is reached. I’ve heard there are people reading my blog whom I don’t even know. Thank you kindly. I get about 13 hits each day. That’s not bad since lots of people I know check on an infrequent basis or have it sent to their emails as an RSS feed. (I’m not sure of what an RSS is but I hope you are feeding it good stuff.) This month, readers are from ten countries: US, Canada, Germany, France, China, Russia, Switzerland, Denmark, United Kingdom and India. I can just imagine some KGB spy and Queen Elizabeth reading this over their breakfasts to see how I’m feeling. Oh well. What this really shows me is there are people worldwide who hurt. These individuals are reaching out to anybody in order to get a glimmer of hope and alliance to others with chronic pain. I’ve seen that at the Fibromyalgia Conference a few years back and the Pain Rehabilitation Center up at Mayo.
By now, a mere slit of hope can keep me going for quite some time. It prevents me from some of the self-induced isolation that chronic pain sufferers exhibit. My previous blogs have diligently searched for one other person with Muddy Pajamas from a fall late at night. (5/30/11) What other songs do people sing when vertigo comes to visit? (6/30/11) Who survives because of the fabulous hugs only possible from grandkids? (5/1/11, et al) The Mighty Three don’t necessarily need to supersede my identity. (1/13/11)
The titles of many of my past blogs make me question my sanity and silently search for those men ready to capture me with one of those goofy white jackets. Some represent alliteration. (Bouncing Blubber, and Brain in a Blender) Others are titillating teases begging for attention. (Chocolate Stops Chafing, Einstein is Sharing his Duct Tape with God, and Other Shepherds Have Bullhorns) Many of my blog titles have been short and to the point. (Hero, Passion, Bubbles and RT) Most importantly these words have recorded my life’s journey as I honestly depict how chronic pain has molded me. I’ve described strange incidents. (Where is the Camera)? I’ve reminded others of my benefit of an open relationship with God. (Just Pray) I’ve opened my heart and soul to the many emotions racing through my veins.
As I read past blogs and look at statistics of readers, I strive to explain my need to place my soul out in the virtual world for intense examination. I yearn for other people to understand the negative aspects of my multiple afflictions while turning to check out my other cute and impressive characteristics. My many carefree emotions have often been strong masks hiding the effects of chronic pain. I openly beg God for help for my entire family and me as we stumble forward learning more about what comprises me.
Not all is bad. Describing myself in Picture Me in a Yoga Position created guffaws across America. My experiences of a late night change of a hotel room during a thunderstorm almost brought offers for a Broadway production. Being stuck in a black, clammy elevator during a power outage after locking myself out of my new room doesn’t happen on a daily basis to other folks. (You Have to Read This One) My plan is not to make you laugh, even though I love when that is one of your reactions. I don’t want pity, sympathy or guilt. I just want you to experience life through my eyes, particularly when the world spins out of control.
I’ve learned that my pain is not the major influence on my life. More importantly is my sincere faith in God. I can’t imagine going through my turmoil if I lacked a strong bond to Christ. Also impacting me is my family. Bob, Stephanie, Chris and those little guys daily embrace me with such caring and acceptance. I’m humbled by their daily expressions of love. Finally, my friends and other family members take time to share laughter, tears, memories and of course food.
Today did not have a ranking of a stellar day. In fact, I honestly needed the assistance of medication and time in a quiet and dark room to survive it this far. But reading and writing my blog has comforted me in indescribable ways. I can tell that people do care about my happiness and cringe when pain captures my soul. The feeling of invisible arms around my heart helps me more than those capsules swallowed earlier today. Thanks for taking time to read my posts to understand my pain and create even a stronger bond between us. Remember that through God, life is good!
Benefit of Using Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:
- I get the opportunity to explain my pain so it disappears from view.
By now, a mere slit of hope can keep me going for quite some time. It prevents me from some of the self-induced isolation that chronic pain sufferers exhibit. My previous blogs have diligently searched for one other person with Muddy Pajamas from a fall late at night. (5/30/11) What other songs do people sing when vertigo comes to visit? (6/30/11) Who survives because of the fabulous hugs only possible from grandkids? (5/1/11, et al) The Mighty Three don’t necessarily need to supersede my identity. (1/13/11)
The titles of many of my past blogs make me question my sanity and silently search for those men ready to capture me with one of those goofy white jackets. Some represent alliteration. (Bouncing Blubber, and Brain in a Blender) Others are titillating teases begging for attention. (Chocolate Stops Chafing, Einstein is Sharing his Duct Tape with God, and Other Shepherds Have Bullhorns) Many of my blog titles have been short and to the point. (Hero, Passion, Bubbles and RT) Most importantly these words have recorded my life’s journey as I honestly depict how chronic pain has molded me. I’ve described strange incidents. (Where is the Camera)? I’ve reminded others of my benefit of an open relationship with God. (Just Pray) I’ve opened my heart and soul to the many emotions racing through my veins.
As I read past blogs and look at statistics of readers, I strive to explain my need to place my soul out in the virtual world for intense examination. I yearn for other people to understand the negative aspects of my multiple afflictions while turning to check out my other cute and impressive characteristics. My many carefree emotions have often been strong masks hiding the effects of chronic pain. I openly beg God for help for my entire family and me as we stumble forward learning more about what comprises me.
Not all is bad. Describing myself in Picture Me in a Yoga Position created guffaws across America. My experiences of a late night change of a hotel room during a thunderstorm almost brought offers for a Broadway production. Being stuck in a black, clammy elevator during a power outage after locking myself out of my new room doesn’t happen on a daily basis to other folks. (You Have to Read This One) My plan is not to make you laugh, even though I love when that is one of your reactions. I don’t want pity, sympathy or guilt. I just want you to experience life through my eyes, particularly when the world spins out of control.
I’ve learned that my pain is not the major influence on my life. More importantly is my sincere faith in God. I can’t imagine going through my turmoil if I lacked a strong bond to Christ. Also impacting me is my family. Bob, Stephanie, Chris and those little guys daily embrace me with such caring and acceptance. I’m humbled by their daily expressions of love. Finally, my friends and other family members take time to share laughter, tears, memories and of course food.
Today did not have a ranking of a stellar day. In fact, I honestly needed the assistance of medication and time in a quiet and dark room to survive it this far. But reading and writing my blog has comforted me in indescribable ways. I can tell that people do care about my happiness and cringe when pain captures my soul. The feeling of invisible arms around my heart helps me more than those capsules swallowed earlier today. Thanks for taking time to read my posts to understand my pain and create even a stronger bond between us. Remember that through God, life is good!
Benefit of Using Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:
- I get the opportunity to explain my pain so it disappears from view.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
I'm Mad
I’m mad! In fact, I am downright angry! There are times when my blood boils in my veins, ready for a rupture as my pain continues to wrack my body. I’m mad that my vertigo has me hanging onto furniture or grabbing at the floor as the scene flashes by my face. I have to shout anyway to be heard over this tinnitus still ringing in my ears. I long to bash my head against the wall, hoping to reduce the pressure that’s squeezing life out of my skull. I’m mad that I’m stuck at my home, ruling out galas with my family, trips with my friends, even a walk with my husband. Plans are forgotten because I simply can’t stand up. Tears roll down my face in the heat of this internal fight.
I don’t get this angry very frequently, but I must describe the hidden scene at least once if this blog will openly describe the actual life of a person struck with chronic pain. I’ve omitted this depressing description as if such an omission will adjust how you readers feel about me. Did it work? I fear that my image is crumbling as the pain tightens around my skull. Honesty is so hard. I’ve secluded the truth behind jokes of my bumbling character rolling down life’s path.
Several months ago, plans were made of a girl’s weekend in Nashville. It’s an opportunity for a group of peers from high school to gather together and share our stories. I haven’t seen or talked with most of these females in close to 40 years. Through Facebook, participants were added to a weekend of memories. This special reunion will float past my grasp because I’m anchored to my home. The distance is too far and my falls too frequent. I can’t go!
When I miss different gatherings of friends, the anger at the omission of my attendance is not fully complete. I get mad at the chains of pain tightly holding me in place at my home rather than the actual missing of one specific event. I don’t like being told what to do. I want my freedom. Another wave of vertigo splashes against me, making me clutch the cushion so I’m not knocked to the floor.
Generally, this rage doesn’t flame out of control. I’m able to peak at my home between the fingers holding my head in place. I hear my husband hovering nearby. Even good ol’ Einstein rushes to my side, eager to protect me from the hidden evils. I have so many blessings; it would be ridiculous for my own anger to submit to further attack against my frame.
I love my bed. Feeling a clean sheet gently cover my body is wonderful. There is almost an impression on my section of the couch, the location of my frequent slumped frame. My kitchen shelves have lots of hidden calories to further enhance my round frame. Many people would answer my call for love with physical, spiritual and emotional support. Life is good.
So my regrets go to Tammy. I’m sorry I won’t see Kathy or Cheryl. Neighbors Andi and Debbie will have to wait for now. You’ll find me at my home, at best scrounging the surroundings for hidden geocaches. I’ll get to Skype the grandsons and hopefully even get sightings of my son-in-law and daughter too. My husband remains at my side as we attempt to hold each other up in all means possible. My eyes close and I feel a quilt of prayer gently fall upon my shoulders. Many requests are made each day to our loving God which I know little about; I feel the love and prayers of others silently envelope me.
I thank each of you who read these words. Your commitment to this blog provides me with strength to fight that anger from bubbling out of control. You don’t need to leave a comment, but please drop me an email if these words touch your soul. You give me the peace that helps me deal with my aches and pains and more.
Benefit of Having Chronic Pain Prove that Life is Good:
- You have time to feel the prayers seep through your pain.
I don’t get this angry very frequently, but I must describe the hidden scene at least once if this blog will openly describe the actual life of a person struck with chronic pain. I’ve omitted this depressing description as if such an omission will adjust how you readers feel about me. Did it work? I fear that my image is crumbling as the pain tightens around my skull. Honesty is so hard. I’ve secluded the truth behind jokes of my bumbling character rolling down life’s path.
Several months ago, plans were made of a girl’s weekend in Nashville. It’s an opportunity for a group of peers from high school to gather together and share our stories. I haven’t seen or talked with most of these females in close to 40 years. Through Facebook, participants were added to a weekend of memories. This special reunion will float past my grasp because I’m anchored to my home. The distance is too far and my falls too frequent. I can’t go!
When I miss different gatherings of friends, the anger at the omission of my attendance is not fully complete. I get mad at the chains of pain tightly holding me in place at my home rather than the actual missing of one specific event. I don’t like being told what to do. I want my freedom. Another wave of vertigo splashes against me, making me clutch the cushion so I’m not knocked to the floor.
Generally, this rage doesn’t flame out of control. I’m able to peak at my home between the fingers holding my head in place. I hear my husband hovering nearby. Even good ol’ Einstein rushes to my side, eager to protect me from the hidden evils. I have so many blessings; it would be ridiculous for my own anger to submit to further attack against my frame.
I love my bed. Feeling a clean sheet gently cover my body is wonderful. There is almost an impression on my section of the couch, the location of my frequent slumped frame. My kitchen shelves have lots of hidden calories to further enhance my round frame. Many people would answer my call for love with physical, spiritual and emotional support. Life is good.
So my regrets go to Tammy. I’m sorry I won’t see Kathy or Cheryl. Neighbors Andi and Debbie will have to wait for now. You’ll find me at my home, at best scrounging the surroundings for hidden geocaches. I’ll get to Skype the grandsons and hopefully even get sightings of my son-in-law and daughter too. My husband remains at my side as we attempt to hold each other up in all means possible. My eyes close and I feel a quilt of prayer gently fall upon my shoulders. Many requests are made each day to our loving God which I know little about; I feel the love and prayers of others silently envelope me.
I thank each of you who read these words. Your commitment to this blog provides me with strength to fight that anger from bubbling out of control. You don’t need to leave a comment, but please drop me an email if these words touch your soul. You give me the peace that helps me deal with my aches and pains and more.
Benefit of Having Chronic Pain Prove that Life is Good:
- You have time to feel the prayers seep through your pain.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Scheduling Conflicts
As an “expert” on my own chronic pain, I have discovered that it’s timing does not necessarily assimilate to my schedule. My discomfort has continuously failed to match my agenda. Today for instance, I thought it would be ideal for a little geocaching after church and breakfast. However, Mother Hubbard appears lavish to many of our cabinets, so a trip to the store demanded immediate attention. My body complained at the rigorous schedule, so we relinquished some rest time after breakfast. It’s now close to 8:00 PM and my poor Bobby is alone hobbling the grocery aisles.
I wonder what it would be like to examine my weekly schedule and notice that perhaps Wednesday had a lot of openings. I would be willing to “give up” that day to stay in bed with a good book and pain pills. I would already have stored nutritious items within arms reach. The gloomy weather could coincide. I would still manage to catch up with some emails and even pay a few bills. I could quietly slumber, victorious in my pain. I have a couple of hours on Thursday morning. Wake up! It doesn’t work like that.
First of all, Bob and I have chronic pain everyday. Yes, some days are better than others. Yesterday, he felt just plain awful and accomplished little except snores. He is doing better now. I doubt he is doing sprints down any grocery aisles, but he scribbled a short list prior to hitting the road. I’ll try to meet him at the door to throw a bag of perishables in the refrig before finding my spot on the couch. He’ll stumble to his seat and Einstein will paw through the remaining bags.
With fibromyalgia, the pain randomly travels throughout my body. Sometimes, it’s the arms that are throbbing, another it’s my legs, and today it’s the hips. I swear I should see spears of fire shooting out of my body. Why couldn’t this have been scheduled later in the day, month, year, decade or millennium. I could have been outside some today to enjoy some sunshine?
Then I realize that life doesn’t match my calendar. God’s time isn’t my time. I’m narcissistic enough to suddenly feel that my time should surpass that of God’s? What am I thinking? Unfortunately, I actually believe that nonsense but don’t tend to verbalize it very often. So now I admit my idiosyncrasies on the “world wide Internet.” I never said I was bright.
Benefits of My Chronic Pain:
- It quickly reduces my egotistical nature.
I wonder what it would be like to examine my weekly schedule and notice that perhaps Wednesday had a lot of openings. I would be willing to “give up” that day to stay in bed with a good book and pain pills. I would already have stored nutritious items within arms reach. The gloomy weather could coincide. I would still manage to catch up with some emails and even pay a few bills. I could quietly slumber, victorious in my pain. I have a couple of hours on Thursday morning. Wake up! It doesn’t work like that.
First of all, Bob and I have chronic pain everyday. Yes, some days are better than others. Yesterday, he felt just plain awful and accomplished little except snores. He is doing better now. I doubt he is doing sprints down any grocery aisles, but he scribbled a short list prior to hitting the road. I’ll try to meet him at the door to throw a bag of perishables in the refrig before finding my spot on the couch. He’ll stumble to his seat and Einstein will paw through the remaining bags.
With fibromyalgia, the pain randomly travels throughout my body. Sometimes, it’s the arms that are throbbing, another it’s my legs, and today it’s the hips. I swear I should see spears of fire shooting out of my body. Why couldn’t this have been scheduled later in the day, month, year, decade or millennium. I could have been outside some today to enjoy some sunshine?
Then I realize that life doesn’t match my calendar. God’s time isn’t my time. I’m narcissistic enough to suddenly feel that my time should surpass that of God’s? What am I thinking? Unfortunately, I actually believe that nonsense but don’t tend to verbalize it very often. So now I admit my idiosyncrasies on the “world wide Internet.” I never said I was bright.
Benefits of My Chronic Pain:
- It quickly reduces my egotistical nature.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Drop Down and Explore
We’re definitely taking it easy for this 4th of July. The hot weather generally does minimal in bursting my level of energy. Yesterday, we did stupidly decide that we needed to get out of the house more, as pleasant as it may be. So on the hottest day of the year, we go geocaching and walk over a mile on trails WITH Einstein. After we finished, the car immediately drove to the nearest McDonald’s for a well-deserved ice cream cone. There also goes most of the benefit of our walk.
Walking in the forest preserve was quite an adventure. It was strange walking on the boardwalk sections for my body could feel the vibrations of Bob walking beside me. Each little jolt put my spin factor up one notch. Standing on hills almost ended my day a little early but I made it through, probably even a little easier than my poor hubby.
My morning devotions urged me to look at the small pieces of beauty that surround me but are often ignored. Hey, that’s what I try to do daily. With my slower walk, I might as well take a peek at my setting. My daughter snickers at my frequent pleas to look at all the different shades of green. (Look quickly, for this sudden stage of heat blasting at us will quickly brown the grass.) It’s amazing to watch those ants busily at work or small creatures that should always stay OUTSIDE my home traverse across the jungle of grass. I see all those when the vertigo decides I am height impaired and lower me to the ground.
So I guess I should thank God for all my blessings. Here some fancy writer told me to look at the small stuff and that’s been my plan for ages. Chronic pain comes in handy sometimes. See, life is good.
Ways God Uses Chronic Pain to Remind Me that Life is Good:
- He slows my pace and lowers my gaze so I may enjoy the “little” things in life.
Walking in the forest preserve was quite an adventure. It was strange walking on the boardwalk sections for my body could feel the vibrations of Bob walking beside me. Each little jolt put my spin factor up one notch. Standing on hills almost ended my day a little early but I made it through, probably even a little easier than my poor hubby.
My morning devotions urged me to look at the small pieces of beauty that surround me but are often ignored. Hey, that’s what I try to do daily. With my slower walk, I might as well take a peek at my setting. My daughter snickers at my frequent pleas to look at all the different shades of green. (Look quickly, for this sudden stage of heat blasting at us will quickly brown the grass.) It’s amazing to watch those ants busily at work or small creatures that should always stay OUTSIDE my home traverse across the jungle of grass. I see all those when the vertigo decides I am height impaired and lower me to the ground.
So I guess I should thank God for all my blessings. Here some fancy writer told me to look at the small stuff and that’s been my plan for ages. Chronic pain comes in handy sometimes. See, life is good.
Ways God Uses Chronic Pain to Remind Me that Life is Good:
- He slows my pace and lowers my gaze so I may enjoy the “little” things in life.
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