It's not that I haven't wanted to write; it just seems that I have spent a lot of time doing other things lately. While talking with my friend Robin today, I realized that I had committed to a plan two years ago on this date (that's how the project of 15 Before 30 got started). So, no matter how sleepy I am from travel, it's time to start writing...
I wrote this list of things to do before I turned 40, because I knew they would take a while, and I knew there was significance for each item to play a major part in my life. My 30's are a time of settling down, of reaching goals, and also of exploring and appreciating the world around me. I have always wanted to live a life of balance, but I feel more than ever that I need to find this balance in my life.
In the middle of December, I started feeling strange. I just felt TIRED all the time (I still do, really). I went to have a scan done by my dr (long story, but he was convinced I had another tumor), and they tried for almost an hour to complete the test. For some reason, my body was clotting the blood on contact, making the injection nearly impossible. When they went to change the needle, they pulled massive clots out. I thought I was dying, and wondered what on earth was happening to me.
So, I headed to my primary doctor and talked with her. She agreed to run blood work, and checked me over. I told her I was by no means depressed, but I felt VERY exhausted at this point. She said we'd find out the results the next day. I went home, and promptly went to bed.
I woke up the next morning, and I'll never forget the feeling. It was like my brain had no connection with my body. I had to go to the bathroom, but my brain wouldn't tell my body to get up and go. I felt spacey (what I imagine being stoned is like), and my face was tingly. I had a headache that hadn't gone away for a week at that point, so that was also nagging at me. When I went to speak to my son, I realized my speech was really slow.
I did what any logical level-headed person does when feeling this bad: I called the guy I've been dating (at work), and cried to him. Yeah, that was pretty uncharacteristic of me, so I'm guessing I felt BAD. I decided to go to the doctor and get looked at. My mother came home from work and drove me, because a shower almost did me in. When I arrived, the doctor took one look at me and sent me to the hospital. She noted that my left pupil wasn't dilating like it should, and my face numbness and weakness was concerning her. She was afraid I was having a stroke, and wanted imaging IMMEDIATELY.
Well, insurance can be a pain. I was sent for CT and CT-A scans, but insurance said they wanted four hours to review my file. I could be dead at that point, so my doctor told me to travel to Murfreesboro and go to the ER. That way, they could run the tests in less time, and potentially save my life. So, we took the trek up there, and sat for the evening.
I can say nothing but good things about the hospital in Murfreesboro. As soon as I came in, they already knew my situation (my doc had called ahead). I was processed quickly, and was hooked up to an EKG and had blood work within 10 minutes of arriving. They were really working hard to assess me quickly, and even had meds for pain and nausea within a pretty quick time. I started to feel better once I was there, but was still incredibly tired. I was also concerned about flying at this point (I would fly cross-country two days later).
I was told that what I had was a Transient Ischemic Attack (TIA), and it is otherwise referred to as a mini-stroke. Pretty much, blood flow was interrupted temporarily to the brain, which gave me all of those effects. I was put on aspirin to thin my blood, and told to rest, relax, and drink plenty of fluids. I was also told to see a neurologist SOON. There's a pretty decent risk of impending stroke if I do nothing, so that was a good wake-up call to evaluate life, and realize that I had a lot of control over the stress I was letting in my world.
So, as I sit here today, I am thinking about what it will take it get my life into balance. I take on too much stress of the life around me, and I know it will kill me. I've always been a kind, compassionate and hard-working person, and those traits can do a lot of harm if they aren't cultivated in the right setting.
I want to go back to school. I know I am already in the program, but I had to stop when the cancer arrived. I want to get back to learning about what I really enjoy, and finding a way to help people around me.
I want to look at how my skills can be matched with the world around me to leave me fulfilled. I know I am thirty-one and saying this, but I guess it's better than waking up miserable when I am 40 or 50. I know that I don't have to be happy every minute of my life, but I also know that I need to feel content, and I don't need to go on nerve pills just to exist.
I am enjoying the relationships and friendships around me, and I'd like to take time to cultivate those. I really love that I have three good female friends that I can lean on, and I enjoy a relaxed relationship with Jason. I like where I am at during this time, but I'd like to make sure I can keep these things going. I know that takes work and attention, but it's worth the time and effort for the great results.
I also need to complete a task off of my list. I was sitting here today, thinking about all of the projects, and about my life in general. It's been a pretty rocky 2013 for me, and I can't wait to push it out and welcome 2014. I decided my first project to be completed soon will be going to see the Before I Die Wall in New Orleans. I had come across this place and the idea of the trip in 2011, and have tabled the idea for two years. It's time for the project to continue, and I honestly can't think of a better place to go to get inspiration for how to live a life of balance, and to appreciate each moment. Once our travel plans are complete, I'll let you know the plan! :-)
I'll be spending a low-key New Year's Eve with someone special, so I won't be making a post before the end of the year. But I will be thinking about this project, and about making these changes in my life. If 2013 was the year of catastrophe, then 2014 can be the year of metamorphosis. Carly asked if humans go through metamorphosis like butterflies, and my response was "most definitely!" My explanation was a bit over her head, but I appreciated getting to tell my daughter that amazing things happen when the body goes through stresses and traumas to grow. We all change and evolve, and it's amazing to see how those past transgressions shape our current beings. 2014 will be a year of spreading my wings.
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Monday, December 30, 2013
Friday, May 10, 2013
Mother's Day
I remember the projects we would make in school for Mother's Day- the handprints that we would morph into flowers, hearts, or some jungle animal. We would make cards where we would guess our mother's age, tell her how much we loved her, and list our favorite things about her. We'd make a craft or little token to attach to the card, and mothers' faces would beam as they opened our handmade gifts.
Over the years, I came to realize what it really took to be a mother. I knew that they would be the parent to get up in the night when I was sick, and my mother always made my lunches, listened to my worries, and made sure my hair looked nice for picture day (and every day).
But I didn't understand the REAL scope of being a mother until I actually became one. I remember waddling into church on the Mother's Day before I had Alex (only a few days before I went in the hospital). I remember being MISERABLE, and knowing this all needed to end soon. I remember my exhusband handing me a gift, but saying something along the lines of "even though you aren't a mother yet..."
I was confused: what the heck was I doing? I guess I was just hanging out in physical agony, waiting to finally be a mom. I surely wasn't up fifteen times a night either in the bathroom or groaning from heartburn... I wasn't waddling down halls physically LIFTING my belly because the pressure was separating my pelvic ligaments. I wasn't seeing spots and having headaches because I was "pretending to be a mom." That pregnancy earned my Mom status from the very beginning... From the moment I knew I was pregnant, I worried constantly about the well-being of my child. And this hasn't ended, even as he (almost six years-old) sits next to me while I type.
Being a mother is a neat thing: we have a chance to care for, support, and encourage our children in all facets of their lives. Don't get me wrong- I'd like to go to the bathroom in peace or even read a book every now and then. But I wouldn't trade the fact that my children WANT me involved in their life. I like that I am able to be there for all major moments of their lives.
What makes it hard is that I am a single parent. It's tough when I am the sole parent, and I am currently running low on energy. I am remembering back to about 1.5 years ago, when I was balancing working and raising two kids. I remember how Carly was 2.5 years old, and was having a hard time sleeping through the night (ears were causing night SCREAMING). I remember collapsing into my office chair at school in between classes, and wondered if I could fall asleep instantly. I was running on empty, and I wondered how single mothers did it when they didn't even have a support system. I was grateful that I had my parents around to help me raise the kids, and I felt really bad for those women that are really going it alone.
Now that the kids are 4 and almost-six, I realize they require a lot less energy. This is good, because I now have a whole lot less energy to give. I am three weeks into no thyroid hormones, and still have two weeks to go. I feel like a snail, and snails don't raise human babies! There's a reason!!! I try to put on a brave face and suck it up, but inside I am DYING. For example, I want to review my week for a moment (before I start my guilt-trip, which I am entitled to):
On Monday, I worked all day. Then, I took an end-of-course test to a homebound student, and sat while she took the test (which was untimed). Afterward, I headed home and got to the house as everyone was eating dinner. Thankfully, I had a little time to eat, check homework and get kids ready for bed.
On Tuesday, I worked all day as well (including hosting some meetings- prep work for that!). At the end of the work day, I flew out of school and headed to pick up kids, change clothes, get pizzas, and head BACK to school to host an honor society end-of-the-year picnic. I stayed at the school pretty late, then got the kids home in time to give them baths and head to bed. I crashed without doing any more work at home.
On Wednesday, I worked all day, then headed BACK out to homebound to give another EOC test. I felt like I was there FOREVER (because it was untimed!). I got home in time to eat with the kids, then did spend a little bit of time with them. I was grateful to see them, but I was also EXHAUSTED at this point. I wondered how on earth I was supposed to make it through the rest of the week...
On Thursday, I headed to work at 6:55am, and came back home at 9:25pm. After working all day, I gave the FINAL EOC test, then did drive home quickly to recurl my hair, move laundry, lay out pajamas, and kiss the kids (since I wouldn't see them that night!). I got back in time for the awards banquet, stayed until after 9pm, then headed home to fall asleep as quickly as I could to wake up at 5am and repeat...
Except last night, I spent the entire night sick. Which made Friday morning MISERABLE... And I did make it through today, but BARELY.
I am not listing my schedule to show off anything, or as a guilt-trip on anyone else other than myself. I am honestly surprised I am capable of such a schedule. I am also wondering what the heck I am thinking?!?
Someone out there is probably wondering "why are you teaching homebound while sick?" Well, the short answer is "when I have to pay bills, the companies don't care that I am sick, and they really don't care that I am STILL not receiving my full child support..." So, instead of working abbreviated days (which would be smart with my physical state), I am working OVERTIME. I know hospital bills will add up, and continue to add up as both children have surgery in July. So, I take the work as it's offered.
The guilt trip? It's on me. I felt absolutely TERRIBLE I didn't see my kids much this week. I know this is not a normal week, but I also felt like I missed a lot of important things. It's hard enough when there's only one parent- it's pretty bad when the one parent is trying to see them at least once a day. On Thursday, I was asking my boss how long he thought the awards dinner would last. He told me, and I said "that's fine- I just wanted to know if I should tell my mom I won't be able to tuck the kids in." He made a sad face at that response, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. It really sucks to do this alone sometimes...
It feels a bit different in light of the cancer, and all that's come along with it. Whereas I would normally feel exhausted, and try to keep positive about the fact that one day they will grow up and leave and I will miss them... Now, I feel a bit guilty, because I know they will have normal days, and no matter how I feel I try so hard to appreciate them, to leave them with good experiences, and to make everything ok, because heaven forbid something happens- I wouldn't want them remembering when I lost my temper!! Balancing all of this has really just left me drained...
The truth is, I love my children more than anything. They are the whole reason I am keeping on. Honestly, after all that's happened, I would have thrown in the towel long ago. They keep me going, because if nothing else- I need to make money to take care of them! But it's not just that- I know I want to show them that there are low points in life, and that we just need to push on until we get out of those spots. And right now, I am trying my best to show them a good example. If I didn't have to be an example, I'd happily pull the covers over my head and try again tomorrow.
I remember the Mother's Day after Carly was born. I had spent five days in the hospital following Carly's birth. After spending a night at home, we packed up the goods, and I went to stay with my parents (along with Alex) for a few days. I stayed there for a little bit, and moved back to the apartment in time to spend Mother's Day with my ex's family. Carly's pregnancy brought serious complications as well, and I was still trying to recover (along with parenting a two year-old, and doing a lot of this by myself). I was grateful for my mother, who was trying to continue working while getting up with the baby through the night while I stayed with her. And my sister-in-law Alli would come over and help with the little ones so I could try to nap.
So, when Mother's Day rolled around, I remember riding with Chris to go visit his family. He stopped to get gifts for the mothers in the family. He pulled out two giant vases of roses for his mother and grandmother. He handed me a small vase of tulips- because I didn't like roses... I was beginning to see a trend about his opinion of what I was actually doing here...
And maybe that's where my confusion about Mother's Day comes about. I am not playing the blame game, but I believe anyone would start to wonder when things like this kept coming up. I know it's not about recognition from a spouse or other adults, but that is KINDA the deal. Especially when this woman is the REASON for the children.
And this is why I am so thankful my children are at an age where they tell me every day that they love me. I know they do love me, but there is something about hearing those affirming words- and saying them as well. They are good for the soul, and make every day feel like Mother's Day. Even when I am out of energy. Even when I feel guilty about balancing work, school, daily obligations, and family. Even when I wonder what the future holds. Even when I wonder how much fight I have left to give- they are there to whisper "I love you's" in the night.
And that will forever be the greatest gift I could ever receive- Mother's Day, and every day.
Over the years, I came to realize what it really took to be a mother. I knew that they would be the parent to get up in the night when I was sick, and my mother always made my lunches, listened to my worries, and made sure my hair looked nice for picture day (and every day).
But I didn't understand the REAL scope of being a mother until I actually became one. I remember waddling into church on the Mother's Day before I had Alex (only a few days before I went in the hospital). I remember being MISERABLE, and knowing this all needed to end soon. I remember my exhusband handing me a gift, but saying something along the lines of "even though you aren't a mother yet..."
I was confused: what the heck was I doing? I guess I was just hanging out in physical agony, waiting to finally be a mom. I surely wasn't up fifteen times a night either in the bathroom or groaning from heartburn... I wasn't waddling down halls physically LIFTING my belly because the pressure was separating my pelvic ligaments. I wasn't seeing spots and having headaches because I was "pretending to be a mom." That pregnancy earned my Mom status from the very beginning... From the moment I knew I was pregnant, I worried constantly about the well-being of my child. And this hasn't ended, even as he (almost six years-old) sits next to me while I type.
Being a mother is a neat thing: we have a chance to care for, support, and encourage our children in all facets of their lives. Don't get me wrong- I'd like to go to the bathroom in peace or even read a book every now and then. But I wouldn't trade the fact that my children WANT me involved in their life. I like that I am able to be there for all major moments of their lives.
What makes it hard is that I am a single parent. It's tough when I am the sole parent, and I am currently running low on energy. I am remembering back to about 1.5 years ago, when I was balancing working and raising two kids. I remember how Carly was 2.5 years old, and was having a hard time sleeping through the night (ears were causing night SCREAMING). I remember collapsing into my office chair at school in between classes, and wondered if I could fall asleep instantly. I was running on empty, and I wondered how single mothers did it when they didn't even have a support system. I was grateful that I had my parents around to help me raise the kids, and I felt really bad for those women that are really going it alone.
Now that the kids are 4 and almost-six, I realize they require a lot less energy. This is good, because I now have a whole lot less energy to give. I am three weeks into no thyroid hormones, and still have two weeks to go. I feel like a snail, and snails don't raise human babies! There's a reason!!! I try to put on a brave face and suck it up, but inside I am DYING. For example, I want to review my week for a moment (before I start my guilt-trip, which I am entitled to):
On Monday, I worked all day. Then, I took an end-of-course test to a homebound student, and sat while she took the test (which was untimed). Afterward, I headed home and got to the house as everyone was eating dinner. Thankfully, I had a little time to eat, check homework and get kids ready for bed.
On Tuesday, I worked all day as well (including hosting some meetings- prep work for that!). At the end of the work day, I flew out of school and headed to pick up kids, change clothes, get pizzas, and head BACK to school to host an honor society end-of-the-year picnic. I stayed at the school pretty late, then got the kids home in time to give them baths and head to bed. I crashed without doing any more work at home.
On Wednesday, I worked all day, then headed BACK out to homebound to give another EOC test. I felt like I was there FOREVER (because it was untimed!). I got home in time to eat with the kids, then did spend a little bit of time with them. I was grateful to see them, but I was also EXHAUSTED at this point. I wondered how on earth I was supposed to make it through the rest of the week...
On Thursday, I headed to work at 6:55am, and came back home at 9:25pm. After working all day, I gave the FINAL EOC test, then did drive home quickly to recurl my hair, move laundry, lay out pajamas, and kiss the kids (since I wouldn't see them that night!). I got back in time for the awards banquet, stayed until after 9pm, then headed home to fall asleep as quickly as I could to wake up at 5am and repeat...
Except last night, I spent the entire night sick. Which made Friday morning MISERABLE... And I did make it through today, but BARELY.
I am not listing my schedule to show off anything, or as a guilt-trip on anyone else other than myself. I am honestly surprised I am capable of such a schedule. I am also wondering what the heck I am thinking?!?
Someone out there is probably wondering "why are you teaching homebound while sick?" Well, the short answer is "when I have to pay bills, the companies don't care that I am sick, and they really don't care that I am STILL not receiving my full child support..." So, instead of working abbreviated days (which would be smart with my physical state), I am working OVERTIME. I know hospital bills will add up, and continue to add up as both children have surgery in July. So, I take the work as it's offered.
The guilt trip? It's on me. I felt absolutely TERRIBLE I didn't see my kids much this week. I know this is not a normal week, but I also felt like I missed a lot of important things. It's hard enough when there's only one parent- it's pretty bad when the one parent is trying to see them at least once a day. On Thursday, I was asking my boss how long he thought the awards dinner would last. He told me, and I said "that's fine- I just wanted to know if I should tell my mom I won't be able to tuck the kids in." He made a sad face at that response, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. It really sucks to do this alone sometimes...
It feels a bit different in light of the cancer, and all that's come along with it. Whereas I would normally feel exhausted, and try to keep positive about the fact that one day they will grow up and leave and I will miss them... Now, I feel a bit guilty, because I know they will have normal days, and no matter how I feel I try so hard to appreciate them, to leave them with good experiences, and to make everything ok, because heaven forbid something happens- I wouldn't want them remembering when I lost my temper!! Balancing all of this has really just left me drained...
The truth is, I love my children more than anything. They are the whole reason I am keeping on. Honestly, after all that's happened, I would have thrown in the towel long ago. They keep me going, because if nothing else- I need to make money to take care of them! But it's not just that- I know I want to show them that there are low points in life, and that we just need to push on until we get out of those spots. And right now, I am trying my best to show them a good example. If I didn't have to be an example, I'd happily pull the covers over my head and try again tomorrow.
I remember the Mother's Day after Carly was born. I had spent five days in the hospital following Carly's birth. After spending a night at home, we packed up the goods, and I went to stay with my parents (along with Alex) for a few days. I stayed there for a little bit, and moved back to the apartment in time to spend Mother's Day with my ex's family. Carly's pregnancy brought serious complications as well, and I was still trying to recover (along with parenting a two year-old, and doing a lot of this by myself). I was grateful for my mother, who was trying to continue working while getting up with the baby through the night while I stayed with her. And my sister-in-law Alli would come over and help with the little ones so I could try to nap.
So, when Mother's Day rolled around, I remember riding with Chris to go visit his family. He stopped to get gifts for the mothers in the family. He pulled out two giant vases of roses for his mother and grandmother. He handed me a small vase of tulips- because I didn't like roses... I was beginning to see a trend about his opinion of what I was actually doing here...
And maybe that's where my confusion about Mother's Day comes about. I am not playing the blame game, but I believe anyone would start to wonder when things like this kept coming up. I know it's not about recognition from a spouse or other adults, but that is KINDA the deal. Especially when this woman is the REASON for the children.
And this is why I am so thankful my children are at an age where they tell me every day that they love me. I know they do love me, but there is something about hearing those affirming words- and saying them as well. They are good for the soul, and make every day feel like Mother's Day. Even when I am out of energy. Even when I feel guilty about balancing work, school, daily obligations, and family. Even when I wonder what the future holds. Even when I wonder how much fight I have left to give- they are there to whisper "I love you's" in the night.
And that will forever be the greatest gift I could ever receive- Mother's Day, and every day.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
My Outlook
Well, it has been the better part of a week before I posted. I have actually attempted to make this post two different times, but never completed it.
On Friday, I visited the doctor and learned that he removed the one cancerous tumor. He said my chances of survival were pretty good, and I will be getting radioactive iodine treatment. He was pretty casual about it, but I made it to the hospital before the nurse called me. My calcium levels were still low, so I was getting my blood drawn AGAIN. I hated that the people at the hospital now knew me by name...
I was told that the endocrinologist wanted to see me Monday morning. They wanted me in QUICKLY. I agreed (because I didn't have a choice), got my blood drawn and headed back to work. I started feeling progressively worse as the day went on, and at about 2pm the nurse called to tell me that my calcium levels were as low as when I had problems in the hospital. I could tell something was up, because my muscles were twitching, I had terrible cramps in my legs, and my face was shuddering. They adjusted my supplementation again, and I went home to rest.
I will say I barely made it home. I felt absolutely miserable. I don't remember much of the night, other than talking to a friend for a long time. He did a good job of distracting me from my discomfort. I called the doctor, and he told me to take more meds. I went to bed finally, hoping everything would sort itself out.
The weekend was easy-going. On Saturday, we had a tea party for Carly's guest (a friend from school). By Sunday, I didn't leave bed except to make a cake in the morning. I was absolutely drained, and there was barely enough energy to eat. If I could have operated from bed, I would have been happier. I was a bit worried about how the week would go if I felt this bad on the weekend!
Monday came around, and I had to move the appt because of a work meeting. I arrived in the afternoon, to find that there was definitely cause to remove the thyroid. There were multiple nodules that looked strange, and the cancerous mass. I knew I did the right thing, but it helped to have more people back me up. They told me my schedule for the radioactive iodine, and went over how the withdrawal of thyroid hormones would work.
I told the doctor that I had gone through hypothyroidism before, and I knew what it was like. She laughed... HARD. She told me she saw and heard about my symptoms, but that my levels were never significantly below the appropriate level. In short: she told me this was going to be BAD. She said I had a great outlook, but to prepare myself for the worst. I was going to have ZERO energy, muscle pain, hair issues, my voice might get weird, and I will be moody. Very, very moody.
I took notes, and headed home. Well, actually I headed BACK to the hospital to give them MORE blood, then headed home. As I walked into the hospital, I saw on the news that there had just been a bombing at the Boston Marathon. I remember looking at the news, and wondering if this was a sign of some sort. It seems like there's always something, and it saddens me to think that there's so many people that don't value how precious life is.
I got home and intended to write about the experiences. I had been trying to write for the past few days. I guess my body finally became less vigilant, and was finally able to rest. I also tried desperately at work to get a lot done, because I knew once the medication withdrawal started, it was going to be a rough road. It would be better to get everything done, then I could sit back and enjoy the end of the year.
I'd like to say it's been easy the past few days, since I am recovering nicely. In reality, I barely get home from work, and am in miserable pain. I make it home wincing in pain to get through the doors of the house, and it's a battle to get everything done for the evening. I am just praying for Friday to get here QUICKLY.
Last night, before I fell asleep, I was thinking about the future. I thought about plans to get me through the summer, plans of what would ideally happen in the next year, and even where I wanted to be in the next ten years (the purpose of this blog). I also realize that I am a fantastic planner, and wanted to have plans around for things "just in case." I guess the fact that I can even write about all of this without crying tells me I have a certain level of detachment that is necessary to cope with all of this mess. I am definitely not saying things will go bad--I just realize that the POSSIBILITY is out there.
I also thought about my friend Scarlett, and how she told me this is one more thing I will conquer. I thought about all of the stuff I've been through- attack, TBI and long recovery (wheelchair to walking and running), abusive relationship and getting OUT, raising two kids on my own while working and trying to normalize their life, even surviving an attack in college. Suffice it to say, if I come to it, I will go through it. I guess cancer would inevitably make its way onto that list. Gee, when I look at the list, I can see why I intimidate men. ;-)
I'm not as verbose today as I was last week (can you imagine? this is short for me!). Tonight, I have a lot of thoughts swirling in my head. I know that I need to sort through these before I can write, but I also wanted to let you know where things stand.
I have yet to tell my friend Jere about this situation. I am usually quick to tell him about everything. I just don't want him to worry, because he is an oncologist. He has dealt with great success stories, and he's had terrible stories to tell. I have always wanted to be one of the good stories he tells. :-)
Alex lost his first tooth last night. I was so excited, because he has been looking forward to this milestone for weeks now. I felt a twinge of anxiety, because I saw how important it was to see this milestone. I had already been fully aware of these special moments, because I wondered how some people would choose to miss them! I realized that now he's losing a tooth, and won't be my baby boy for much longer. He'll be graduating kindergarten, sailing through grade school, and will be graduating in 2025. It won't be long before he has his career and family. And I hoped and prayed to God, in the ten seconds it took me to think of all of this, that I would be there to get the call from my grandchild, telling me he lost his first tooth! It's moments like these when I realize that a lot of great can come of my life. I also realize it is terrible precious and fragile, and I need to enjoy it while I can.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well. -Psalm 139:14
This has been a Psalm that's been on my mind quite a bit lately. I am mystified at my life, and I know my friend Robin talks about how I can make hugging a trucker in a parking lot sound magical. I am so grateful I have that ability, and can see the amazing in the ordinary. It makes me appreciate really how much awe and amazing is created in every moment, and I am grateful for all of these experiences that have added so much to my life. Our trips around the sun are really too few, no matter how many years we get. They key to all of this is finding a rich life, and appreciating that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, no matter what our religious path. No matter what news we receive, or day we have at work. No matter what ideas are floating or pounding or swirling around in our heads. We all need these moments to center us; these moments where we lie on the driveway and stare in awe at the dark universe.
And for me, I was always the one to watch in awe. I will say there's an added glisten to all of these ordinary moments. I feel like I am seeing things differently, and really seeing how fantastic our world can be. Maybe that's the best gift I could receive right now, when terrible things happen and so many people are fearful. I know my place in this world, and my purpose as well. It is to inspire change, and to show love. If I can say I've done these two things every day, then I've served my purpose. This is really quite a feeling of contentment, and one that will ensure restful sleep tonight.
On Friday, I visited the doctor and learned that he removed the one cancerous tumor. He said my chances of survival were pretty good, and I will be getting radioactive iodine treatment. He was pretty casual about it, but I made it to the hospital before the nurse called me. My calcium levels were still low, so I was getting my blood drawn AGAIN. I hated that the people at the hospital now knew me by name...
I was told that the endocrinologist wanted to see me Monday morning. They wanted me in QUICKLY. I agreed (because I didn't have a choice), got my blood drawn and headed back to work. I started feeling progressively worse as the day went on, and at about 2pm the nurse called to tell me that my calcium levels were as low as when I had problems in the hospital. I could tell something was up, because my muscles were twitching, I had terrible cramps in my legs, and my face was shuddering. They adjusted my supplementation again, and I went home to rest.
I will say I barely made it home. I felt absolutely miserable. I don't remember much of the night, other than talking to a friend for a long time. He did a good job of distracting me from my discomfort. I called the doctor, and he told me to take more meds. I went to bed finally, hoping everything would sort itself out.
The weekend was easy-going. On Saturday, we had a tea party for Carly's guest (a friend from school). By Sunday, I didn't leave bed except to make a cake in the morning. I was absolutely drained, and there was barely enough energy to eat. If I could have operated from bed, I would have been happier. I was a bit worried about how the week would go if I felt this bad on the weekend!
Monday came around, and I had to move the appt because of a work meeting. I arrived in the afternoon, to find that there was definitely cause to remove the thyroid. There were multiple nodules that looked strange, and the cancerous mass. I knew I did the right thing, but it helped to have more people back me up. They told me my schedule for the radioactive iodine, and went over how the withdrawal of thyroid hormones would work.
I told the doctor that I had gone through hypothyroidism before, and I knew what it was like. She laughed... HARD. She told me she saw and heard about my symptoms, but that my levels were never significantly below the appropriate level. In short: she told me this was going to be BAD. She said I had a great outlook, but to prepare myself for the worst. I was going to have ZERO energy, muscle pain, hair issues, my voice might get weird, and I will be moody. Very, very moody.
I took notes, and headed home. Well, actually I headed BACK to the hospital to give them MORE blood, then headed home. As I walked into the hospital, I saw on the news that there had just been a bombing at the Boston Marathon. I remember looking at the news, and wondering if this was a sign of some sort. It seems like there's always something, and it saddens me to think that there's so many people that don't value how precious life is.
I got home and intended to write about the experiences. I had been trying to write for the past few days. I guess my body finally became less vigilant, and was finally able to rest. I also tried desperately at work to get a lot done, because I knew once the medication withdrawal started, it was going to be a rough road. It would be better to get everything done, then I could sit back and enjoy the end of the year.
I'd like to say it's been easy the past few days, since I am recovering nicely. In reality, I barely get home from work, and am in miserable pain. I make it home wincing in pain to get through the doors of the house, and it's a battle to get everything done for the evening. I am just praying for Friday to get here QUICKLY.
Last night, before I fell asleep, I was thinking about the future. I thought about plans to get me through the summer, plans of what would ideally happen in the next year, and even where I wanted to be in the next ten years (the purpose of this blog). I also realize that I am a fantastic planner, and wanted to have plans around for things "just in case." I guess the fact that I can even write about all of this without crying tells me I have a certain level of detachment that is necessary to cope with all of this mess. I am definitely not saying things will go bad--I just realize that the POSSIBILITY is out there.
I also thought about my friend Scarlett, and how she told me this is one more thing I will conquer. I thought about all of the stuff I've been through- attack, TBI and long recovery (wheelchair to walking and running), abusive relationship and getting OUT, raising two kids on my own while working and trying to normalize their life, even surviving an attack in college. Suffice it to say, if I come to it, I will go through it. I guess cancer would inevitably make its way onto that list. Gee, when I look at the list, I can see why I intimidate men. ;-)
I'm not as verbose today as I was last week (can you imagine? this is short for me!). Tonight, I have a lot of thoughts swirling in my head. I know that I need to sort through these before I can write, but I also wanted to let you know where things stand.
I have yet to tell my friend Jere about this situation. I am usually quick to tell him about everything. I just don't want him to worry, because he is an oncologist. He has dealt with great success stories, and he's had terrible stories to tell. I have always wanted to be one of the good stories he tells. :-)
Alex lost his first tooth last night. I was so excited, because he has been looking forward to this milestone for weeks now. I felt a twinge of anxiety, because I saw how important it was to see this milestone. I had already been fully aware of these special moments, because I wondered how some people would choose to miss them! I realized that now he's losing a tooth, and won't be my baby boy for much longer. He'll be graduating kindergarten, sailing through grade school, and will be graduating in 2025. It won't be long before he has his career and family. And I hoped and prayed to God, in the ten seconds it took me to think of all of this, that I would be there to get the call from my grandchild, telling me he lost his first tooth! It's moments like these when I realize that a lot of great can come of my life. I also realize it is terrible precious and fragile, and I need to enjoy it while I can.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well. -Psalm 139:14
This has been a Psalm that's been on my mind quite a bit lately. I am mystified at my life, and I know my friend Robin talks about how I can make hugging a trucker in a parking lot sound magical. I am so grateful I have that ability, and can see the amazing in the ordinary. It makes me appreciate really how much awe and amazing is created in every moment, and I am grateful for all of these experiences that have added so much to my life. Our trips around the sun are really too few, no matter how many years we get. They key to all of this is finding a rich life, and appreciating that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, no matter what our religious path. No matter what news we receive, or day we have at work. No matter what ideas are floating or pounding or swirling around in our heads. We all need these moments to center us; these moments where we lie on the driveway and stare in awe at the dark universe.
And for me, I was always the one to watch in awe. I will say there's an added glisten to all of these ordinary moments. I feel like I am seeing things differently, and really seeing how fantastic our world can be. Maybe that's the best gift I could receive right now, when terrible things happen and so many people are fearful. I know my place in this world, and my purpose as well. It is to inspire change, and to show love. If I can say I've done these two things every day, then I've served my purpose. This is really quite a feeling of contentment, and one that will ensure restful sleep tonight.
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