Blue Skies

I made it safely to Connecticut and things have been wonderful. It was the perfect Memorial Day holiday complete with a trip to the cemetery, a beach, pizza and ice cream. My daughter has a tradition that each Memorial Day, she takes her small boys (now ages 4 and 2) to a local cemetery. They look for tombstones with US flags and then squat down so the eldest can say, “Thank you for keeping me safe.” How moving to see two little boys better understand the purpose of the day than 99% of the rest of the American population!

Today I got to see the perfect Little League t-ball game with youngsters ages 4 – 7. Everyone bats. There are no outs. Everyone runs all of the bases. You cheer on everyone and shake hands when all is done. It is a team effort. There are snacks at the end of the game. Life would be so wonderful if it could run with the same rules. If you are tired, sit down and pick some flowers. Dandelions or clovers work stupendously. There are lots of nice rocks to use to fill your pockets. Check around you and you can hear others encouraging you on. Nice rules.

My body has been hanging on, although somewhat precariously the last two days. My vertigo has been hovering in the background, bothered even by walking the aisles in Target. The little hugs and silly giggles somehow make it all fine. The ground is harder and much father away then the last time I was here. My two little grandsons have been transformed into older and smarter versions. This family shares every core Christian value. I feel blessed.

It’s back on the plane tomorrow to head for Mississippi where my son-in-law’s submarine will be commissioned. The boat has already arrived and the festivities have begun. I don’t quite understand the Navy’s reasoning having the christening on December 3^rd in Connecticut and then commissioned on July 2^nd in Mississippi. Did they not consult a meteorologist or a child over the age of seven? Even with the warmth, it will be quite a patriotic honor to see this rare event. I’m lucky that I am able to be part of it.

We leave tomorrow with two excited toddlers in tow. My focus will be on them and this wonderful festivity. Since my body crashes about 3.4 seconds after they finally fall asleep, I won’t be taking my computer south. So, no blogs for a while!

Meanwhile, you can pray my body behaves and remains vertical throughout the day. It would be lovely having a cold front beat us to the Mississippi borders so cool breezes could stay nearby. I kind of doubt that will be happening, but a girl can wish. Stay tuned until June 5^th when my little fingers will once again be in touch of the computer keys. I won’t be traveling with my computer; it might end up with a southern drawl. I’m sure there will be lots to blog about once I return up North. I bet it will be filled with wonderful tales about the grandsons. Meanwhile, may your summer skies, and not your mood, stay blue.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove the Life is Good

      -  I can take trips across the country whenever I please. In less than one month I will have seen the Pacific Ocean, Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of Mexico. Not bad for an old lady.

Memorial Day

I finally have all of the flowers planted in my yard. We put in a good mixture of annuals and perennials. Although the work was plentiful, it’s so nice now to see the splashes of color around our property. I started with gloves but soon ditched those so I could feel the dirt surrounding my young plants. That’s all well and good, but Mother Nature needs to do her thing and give us a little rain. I still see the remnants of the dirt creased within my nails. I know I need to water them, but I keep hoping Mother Nature will help me out.

Bob left for fishing in northern Minnesota bright and early this morning. There is no way that he will use more than 5% of the fishing gear that he took. The van was packed as if heading out for some year round roughin’ it days. The forecast is for constant rain up there, but I hope he sees at least a little sunshine. We could really open our own bait and tackle shop in the basement for all his “stuff.” Teddy was able to go “shopping” for his fishing box by just opening up containers. The rest of Chicagoland really could join him, but Bob doesn’t complain too much about my plethora of shoes, purses or stamps so I better just let that collection expand.

I ran to Target to pick up a few more items for my trip. That store really should be illegal. It’s impossible to get out of there for less than 100 dollars. With me being a grandma of two, that only increases the spending. We are doing are best to help defray the national debt. I needed a baby gift and some treasures for the neighborhood kids. Things just jump into my cart. It’s amazing.

The weather has turned warm and sticky, typical Memorial Day weather. I hear kids outside playing in their backyards. This is the way to bring in the new season. It’s officially the first weekend of summer and people are ready to celebrate, but we mustn’t forget the real reason for an extra day off work. There is much more than picnics with burgers and watermelon.  The thoughts of young men and women dying in warfare need to be forefront in our thoughts. They’ve paid the “ultimate sacrifice.” Happy Memorial Day.

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

      - Despite any pain, my plastic card can ring in the best of holidays.

World Record

Bob and I had one of our regular visits with our pain doctor yesterday. We hadn’t seen him for a while do to my neurostimulator (stim for short) and Bob’s attempt to see the most doctors possible in one month.

I better explain the whole world record attempt by my hubby. Here one of my goals in my Bible study is to not blurt out all sorts of goodies about my husband’s health and that works until my second sentence of my blog. According to most experts, that would be classified under dismal failure. I’m studying Proverbs 31 about characteristics of a good wife. You might as well forget the prudent part. Anyway, enough with my gloomy goals, on to the multiple doctors.

In the past two weeks, Bob has seen his regular dentist and well as a peridontist. He got to have a double root canal. I guess Bob is the prudent one for he wants to get two for the price of one. He has an orthopedic surgeon for his foot where he got his little buttons. (The doctor even said he is laced up like a turkey. Maybe that explains his weird walk.) They want him to go see another neurologist. That was the wish of his physiatrist. (How many of you out there have a physiatrist? How many of you out there have even heard of physiatrist?)  Bob also had a visit with his primary care specialist. (They all like to add specialist to their titles so they can then pad their bill accordingly.) Plus I can’t forget his pain doctor from yesterday. (They wonder why we get confused with all the names and dates!)

I also saw the pain doctor yesterday. We try to get in on the family plan to save money. He decided to give me some occipital blocks to try to reduce the headaches and some of the vertigo. (My number of falls is way up there again, particularly at night when walking the dog. I’m waiting to be picked up by the police for intoxication.) This is the first Bob got to watch. He normally hides out in the waiting room. (I figured he should get a peek to help my future worthiness on that Proverbs wife thing.) I got a total of eight shots in my scalp not counting the numbing medicine. I was without a headache for about four hours, and then it bounced back in full force. If my head is supported, the room slowly settles around me instead of spinning out of control but it is proving difficult to walk around with the couch velcroed to my head.

That’s our doctor update. At least we get out of the house this way. Oh, to save you looking up the word on www.dictionary.com the definition of a physiatrist is a doctor of physical medicine who concentrates on rehabilitation. At least this blog is helping your vocabulary.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

      -  Life is surely good for all those doctors with increased revenue and then there is the double bonus of an increased vocabulary. 

Flower Power

It’s been a busy week with me pushing myself each day as I try to improve the outside of our home by placing plants throughout the landscaping. We bought a few Japanese trees to further surround our gazebo. Additional hostas were placed underneath our huge blue spruce outside. We go to a nursery up North where all proceeds from the hostas go to the Heifer Project. The Heifer does not refer to either

Bob or myself.

We got rid of all the plants on the east side and faced reality that spoiled rose bushes have no place on our property. Instead, the place is now filled with some perennials. The rose bushes on the side used to be glorious, but as the summer progressed, time spent to prune those bushes became less frequent. I wish I could place the blame on  my fibromyalgia or vertigo but instead the cause is probably just my laziness and dislike of the humid August weather. Despite Bob’s best efforts preparing these plants for winter, there was always one or two or three who didn’t make it through. So now I want to cut some flowers from my perennial selection and bring them inside. Hopefully they will do better than my berries. Read on for that case of reality.

The strawberry plants are now surrounded by chicken wire. I planted three strawberry plants there last year. We joked about my pale green thumb, emphasis on the pale. You could see many small reddish berries almost ready to be plucked. We started a pool on how many strawberries I would be able to harvest for personal delight. To make a long story short, my neighbor Angie won with a guess of zero. At least I was able to feed the local squirrels and bunnies. I’m not sure the two feet wire enclosure will be of any help though since Bob caught some robins yesterday pecking away in delight. My expectations are minimal.

I have my usual impatiens along our walk to the front door. I admit my speed is significantly slower this year than in the past. I used to put in five flats in less time than it took me to get in one flat yesterday. By now though I could be a middle school biology model for I could feel every muscle and bone that God placed inside me. When I questioned Bob about the number of impatiens plants I had ever placed in our yard, he thought a while and responded with wondering if I am more or less impatien(t) now. I wasn’t too sure of his humor.  I do believe that I have more patience in many matters. The things that tend to drive me the craziest are now of more significance – waiting for medical test results, watching the clock when Bob is in surgery, begging for aches and pains to go away. Age and experience has developed that big modification.

I still need to continue with some pots. At this rate, I might be finished some time in November. I hope this finds you following some quality time in the outdoors – or indoors if that involves some time at your local shopping mall.

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

      -  It’s a great excuse to explain my slow speed or basic laziness.

Pity Party

A week has sped by without any new posting from this lonely writer. I’ve had the opportunity for my social calendar has lacked any activity for multiple days. Bob had his double root canal as well as the removal of his stitches all without major upheaval. Our home is still standing, our friends are all fine, and I finally take the time to write simplistic words about me.

I’ve tried to hide this week for the vertigo I mentioned last Sunday has become more severe. I’ve tried a variety of medicines, all without any changes to my hollow head. I tried the keep going, ignore it and it will go away philosophy with my head just laughing at me. I’ve done the stay in bed, sleep, remain in darkness and sulk move only to wake with the migraine and vertigo waiting on the foot of my bed.

Bob’s been fantastic about doing what he can to supply me with all the necessities of life. However his unileg status makes that a little difficult to say the least. We have more trouble when both of us are on the blink. Yet we carry on, doing our best to fit into the normal cycles of a suburban day. I don’t know if anyone was convinced, but I tried my best.

This latest cycle has been here too long and my lack of patience is quite evident. I loved when I told people that I was a special education teacher, the first response was always giving accolades for my patience. It doesn’t quite work that way. With my stubborn determination, things will get better.

We had a wonderfully relaxing Stephen Ministry meeting today with a yummy brunch included. I got to Skype my two favorite, little men in the whole world. We’ll soon head out the door for a trip to Pinstripes, a unique restaurant that offers good food along with bowling and bocce. I don’t think Bob and I can participate in the more strenuous parts of the evening, but we can root for all our good friends. This is date night, reserved for the second Saturday of the month for couples at our church.

My apologies for not writing. My mood was just kind of low and I pampered myself through the pity party that I held. But it’s time for blue skies now without any spinning or background noises. Thanks for any encouragement.

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

        -   Pity parties are acceptable when they are taken privately and last less than two hours. Oops! Mine went over that. I have to work on it!

Rainy Days of Springtime

Our meteorological skills were on high today as rain flooded the Chicagoland area. You might have heard our bones screeching if you live within 572 miles of our home. Our movements resemble an old black and white movie whose frames flip in a staccato fashion. (Don’t you think that Bob resembles Charlie Chaplin?)

It’s times like this when I realize my label of disabled fits me. I sometimes wonder whether I am running from my problems by avoiding the work scene, then God reminds me of my foolishness. Since we have come home from our week in California, my maladies have exhibited their stronghold over my body. I’ve walked Einstein with more regularity since Bob now bears one of those huge black boots as a result of his surgery. My vertigo gait has led me to the close examination of neighbors’ lawns. The weeble is back. My tinnitus is singing along with me 24/7. Then there are the complications of this headache. It tries to convince me that time alone in a quiet, dark room is the only option available to me. It’s even harder than normal to concentrate on anything. Holding the sides of my head while crouched in darkness does not allow me to exactly blend into the crowd.

That label of “disabled” is a difficult one to accept. I’ve talked with others who cringe at this eight-letter word. The new neon sign flashing over my head declares that I am broken and not worthy. I’ve met others whose feeling of any self-worth completely disintegrates as they contemplate the complications of assuming this label. It’s not an easy category to accept especially since you have little control over the need for it.

I know, or at least pray, that in a few days some of my new medications will tame the symptoms of The Mighty Three. Until then, I watch the rain nourish the ground and feel the pain starve my body. Living with chronic pain brings unique opportunities and experiences. Even so, I am blessed with having a husband, daughter and even dog be part of my support system. I can’t forget the medicinal value of those cute little grandsons either. With them, I know that life may not always be fun, but it surely is good!

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:
          - I have a wonderful system that helps on those rainy days of springtime.                                                                                      

That Darn Cinnamon Raisin Brioche French Toast with Warmed Orange Marmalade

Food has an addictive yank at my stomach and spirit. I objectively can state that I am overweight. I need to rip my blubber from my frame in order to even pretend to live a healthy lifestyle. Some pounds have slowly left my body but at a measly rate of 0.7 per week. Whoopie! At this rate, I can be removed from the ranks of the obese at the conclusion of 832 more weeks.

While I visited the sunny state of California, I told myself that I was on vacation and was thus deserving of sumptuous delights. This allowed me to scarf down that cinnamon raisin brioche French toast with warmed orange marmalade that I talked about in my last posting. Frozen yogurt is slightly better than its ice cream counterpart, but chocolate mixed with caramel yogurt complete with brownie nuggets, cookie crumbles and peanut butter chunks is probably not a key ingredient for most diet situations. The syrup poured throughout shaved ice is generally overflowing with sugar. Whenever I cross the threshold of a buffet, I feel it necessary to get my money’s worth. This logically makes no sense, but just try convincing my right hand as it clutches silverware laden with food.

Getting back to Illinois has not helped my waistline. Today I was fortunate enough to attend a women’s retreat at my church. Once again food was aplenty. We tease that potlucks are part of what Lutherans represent. To make matters harder for even the most stringent dieter, triple chocolate brownies covered the dessert table. I don’t want to even consider how many weight watcher points reside in each delectable delight.

My resolve must harden. I’m not proud of my limited success. I’m placing this on my blog as a means of accountability. My daughter once told me that our bodies were sculpted in the likeness of God. He wants us to care for our frames. I need to shed the padding that covers my bones. Say a prayer or two or eight for some scale success. I need all the help that I can get.

God Uses My Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

      -  I have a blog with readers who will hold me accountable about my weight to help me have a life that is good. 

The Land of the Merry Matriarch

The post for today is much different than usual (as if any of my writings can be labeled usual.) I have not written lately due to a wonderful reprieve trip to family on the west coast. This post, and many in the coming weeks, will tell of our travels. A thanks to Bob’s many relatives who embraced us with love.

Once upon a time, God made a very special group of people. They were soon known by the two simple words that people cried when near them. They were called the Oh Wows! The Oh Wows lived in a warm and sunny land not far from the sounds of waves and the tastes of Cinnamon Raisin Brioche French Toast with warmed Orange Marmalade. A special matriarch, who had spring in her step and love to share, led this group. She was known for her happy and “merry” disposition.

One day, two plump cheetahs strolled into their home. The Oh Wows cared for them. Food like two tacos, onion rings, breakfast jack and milk were delivered in a large box. Life was oh so good. They went to a wonderful festival with drummers and archers and lots of excuses to use a credit card.  They had an unusual custom of sticking needles in your body that even made the male cheetah smile in delight. International food was always plenty: quesadillas, hamburgers, spaghetti, shaved ice and spam sushi was available every day. That made the cheetahs very happy and even rounder. Silly stories were shared as they gathered at the home of the merry matriarch. Photos were taken as they gathered around the table with mounds of food. While feasting for four days, they heard long tales of a phantom cab driver who had come to live with the Oh Wows and watch ballroom dancing competitions.

Not far off lived a strong and “hairy” male with a gorgeous wife. More food and talk were shared before they were sent off with three strong trees to remind them of a distant land. They were also made welcome by a silly man who had time to spare since he no longer left home to work on airplanes and such. His wonderful wife ruled the roost for she was the one who could locate magic glasses, design beautiful bathrooms, eat pink berries and make the female cheetah laugh and giggle. What a surprise since that female visitor was previously just known for her demure and shy nature. Now this goofy cheetah made small moans when begging for Nestles Crunch bars.

One day, it was finally time for the cheetahs to leave this land of milk and honey and wine. They needed to learn how to be grandparents from a genius named Einstein. The Oh Wows made sure they were gently shipped to their home destination and even put popcorn treats in their cages for their long journey. Many gathered to ensure safe travels for these much plumper cheetahs. Tears were shed and promises were made for return visits. These cheetahs had found a special love from all the people in this sunny land. An extended family bond was firmly molded and all knew that life was good.

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

       -  I have the time to take a week to head west to find fabulous family just a phone call away. A new support system stock full of unconditional love is available. Thanks God! Life is good!