Tag Archive | marriage

Betrayal

betrayal poembetrayal

She rolled out of the bed, shutting off the alarm. Thoughts immediately flood her mind. So many things to do today. The most important one being interviewing a young woman to fill the live in nanny position. She has been looking for a responsible nanny since her previous “super nanny” Margo, had to move to the East coast to live with her son and his family. She had been with them for 14 years, and was fabulous with her 2 children, 14 year old Sophie and 12 year old Stephen. Margo kept the house in order, made an occassional meal and helped with the kids homework when she was running late at the office.

Being a doctor is a wonderful profession, and has wonderful perks…but the hours can certainly take over your life…it certainly took over her marriage. The divorce was two years ago, but the pain still feels fresh. It was true that becoming a doctor and creating a thriving practice took up alot of her time. She worked hard to get here. Being a physician was her goal since second grade, when she had her tonsils removed. She was fascinated with her doctor and all his instruments! The blood-pressure cuff (sphygmomanometer), stethoscope, laryngoscope, otoscope and even just a simple thermometer…it all held so much wonder to her, even at the age of eight.

Her parents were strict. They were “pushers” pushing her to do this after school activity and that activity…pushing her to take AP classes…pushing her to eat right and exercise…pushing her to only socialize when necessary and only with the “appropriate” friends. So, it goes without saying, her teen years and college years, were all very academic oriented, with very few exciting events. Her life-long friend Brandy calls her whole life “Vanilla.” That pretty much explains it. Boring vanilla. But, in reality…living a vanilla life suited her. She wasn’t a risk-taker, she loves to learn, loves to read and research, loves to sit at home and cuddle on the couch with her family. Who needs sprinkles anyway?

At 5′ 1″ and 100 lbs, she is what the fashion industry has pegged as petite. Shoulder length blond hair and deep blue eyes and, as her friend Brandy says, “A complexion to kill for!” would pretty much complete her description. She was always described as a determined fighter by her mother. Sometimes more determined than was good perhaps. Once she set her mind on something, there was no stopping her.

When she first saw Scott…her determination definitely kicked in. She first laid eyes on him in the medical library of Vanderbilt teaching hospital here in Nashville. They were both in their first year of residency. He was tall, at 6’2″ he towered  over her. He had dark brown hair and big brown eyes…those eyes…they are what drew her to him. He could flirt with the best of them, she was not exactly shy, but having led her “vanilla” type lifestyle, she wasn’t a big flirt by any means. He came over to her table there in the library that day. Struck up a conversation about hematology, referencing a book she had laid out on the table about a blood-clotting disease called Antiphospholipid Syndrome. They talked for quite awhile about that particular disease and others before he paused and asked if she would like to go for coffee. She hated coffee. But…some icky flavored brown water was NOT going to keep her from continuing some conversation with this competely perfect man!

Perfect. Yea…not so much. Here she is 16 years later…the last five of which she knew Scott was having an affair. At first she couldn’t believe it. Scott would never do that to her or their family! But, the signs were there. She asked him one night after dinner, as Margo was putting the kids to bed, if he was seeing someone. He laughed at her and told her she was crazy. She dropped it, but after another call from him saying he was having another “late night” at the office, she couldn’t repress her instincts anymore. She became the woman she swore she never would. She started snooping on her husband. She would go thru his pockets, check his calendar, check his phone, but it was checking his computer that confirmed her suspicions. She clicked on a folder entitled “L” and there on the screen was a picture that caused her heart to jump right into her throat! It was Lisa. Scotts old girlfriend. She was a model, and the picture before her made that all too clear. But this was more than just beyond some “headshot” this was a fullly nude Lisa…and there were many of them. She stood staring, mouth agape. Her heart was beating so hard she could barely breathe. Her head was swimming. Why? Why does he have these photos of Lisa? They hadn’t seen each other in 15 years…or had they?

She began running the past few years in her head…was he having an affair with Lisa? Or just fantasizing…how recent are these pictures of her? Her head was spinning. Anyone but her! She had always felt insecure when it came to Lisa. She was this perfect looking woman, never had children so nothing was stretched out of shape on her! She was not the smartest woman, that’s for certain…why? She continued checking out Scotts computer for anymore evidence…THERE. There it was. Messages. Lots of them. He and Lisa have been conversing. He’s too stupid to delete his history. She read thru their messages quickly…they were having a full blown relationship. Worse…they discussed her and the children! That devastated her. To find out that Scott was with Lisa. He always said she meant nothing to him. She was just a “bimbo” he said.  He said the two years he spent with her, were the most miserable of his life…that she was vindictive and immature. But, evidently vindictive, immature bimbos were more his type. She confronted Scott with what she had found. He blamed her, blamed her long hours, said she was too boring for him….she was devastated. She went to confide what was happening to Brandy. She had trusted Brandy. But as she was explaining it all to her, Brandy dropped a bombshell. Scott was seeing many women, including her! She said it was a one time thing…but one time is all it takes in these matters, isn’t it?

She couldn’t believe that Brandy could betray her like this! She had been her best friend for as long as she could remember! How could Scott? How could Brandy? She had done so much for Brandy over the years! She had let her live with her rent free, she bought her and her daughter clothing and other items over the years, they came over every weekend to watch movies and have dinner or play boardgames…the betrayal by Brandy stung more than he one by Scott.

The anger has eaten at her since she had found out. She proceeded with the divorce and stopped communicating with Brandy. Brandy begged for her forgiveness, blamed it on alcohol and one night of weakness. The excuses weren’t gonna cut it. From either of them. During that time, she found out about so many lies. Lies by Scott, lies by Brandy. Brandy always talked so poorly of her family. She called them white trash. She claimed her mother was a drug addict/alcoholic. She said she may as well been raised by a pack of wolves. She claimed to have no-one in her life that cared about her. She made her feel so sorry for her and her baby girl. But, after finding out about all the lies, she then wondered if all those stories were also lies. She wondered what lies Brandy told her family about her?

How can people do those things to each other? She struggled with that question that past couple years. But she has decided now to make a fresh start. To not dwell on the betrayals by those closest to her. She focused on her children and her career. And she is happy. She recently met a man at work. They had been to coffee, she had developed quite a taste for it by now, and she enjoyed his company. The future was looking up.

The interview went well. She hired the new nanny. She let go of all the resentment and anger and mistrust that had accumulated over the years. But, she wonders…everytime a person is treated like she was, lied to and betrayed…how does one ever fully trust again? If the ones who profess to love you the most can treat you so badly…what can we expect from those who don’t know us at all? Or do people just have their own versions of the truth and feel they are doing nothing wrong when they lie to you? How do they live with themselves when they are scheming and making up lies? Do they have a conscience? She hopes to never have to feel that way again. She prays her children never know what it feels like to be betrayed by someone they love…but she knows that prayer will likely not get answered. It’s inevitable.

 

 

 

Again…just a flow & type story. Just practicing…thanks for reading!

cRAzy GiBBeriSh…

Image

 

Just laying here after another particularly bad pain day, with the nausea and constipation thrown in for shits n giggles as a particularly funny n sassy nurse I had for my ostomy issues used to say…I loved that nurse…Sylvia…she was a wound nurse at St Joe. Sometimes that poor woman had to tend to me five times a day, my ostomy bag just wasn’t fitted right for my complicated ostomy. She tried all kinds of tricks, but mostly she kept me and Jim calm, as she taught HIM how to handle all of it. She would make me laugh…which is a bad thing while you’re gettin your bag changed…I won’t go into detail. She was a sassy one.

That’s all about that, not sure why it popped into my head…just that “shits n giggles” phrase. And trying to decide what if anything can ever be done about my messed up innards. The increasing and changing pattern of pain, the increasing depression and feeling of my life just going nowhere.

I’m 44 now. 44 should be a fun year! Kids are bigger, self sufficient, or gone. Sposed to start “jazzin” up the marriage and gettin your life back…right? Well, unfortunately for us, the “plan” is different. It’s me, still having the belly that looks eight months pregnant due to the massive hernia and the pain that keeps me from breathing from the major and complicated adhesions that have glued to my abdominal wall and all my organs, making removal extremely dangerous and life threatening.

I’ve yet to train myself to stay away from normal foods. If Jim makes spaghetti…I eat a bowl…then I know in a few hours I will be doubled over in pain crying and damning myself to hell for being weak and eating it. I don’t know how to to this. I need this new eating plan, but NO ONE has helped teach me what to do, how to cook or puree or whatever. I can’t just do Ensure shakes, it gets old. Can’t do mashed tatos daily, boring. Cream of chicken daily..nope. I need variety, texture, taste. But I need to do it and I KNOW I do.

I truly have no ambition anymore. I’m a slug. laying on the sidelines having a pitty party I guess is what some would call it. I guess there are days I might need pity. Some people have it worse, this I do know. But if I had the cancer, they told me what it was, what the fight would be, the plan, the side effects…then the remission…so done with it fot awhile..maybe for good.. If I got mrsa or gangrene in my leg, cut it off…done. With my bod its too complicated. I’m sick of that term. Yes, it’s too complicated because some moron got in there with sharpi instruments and started chopping around like a monkey let loose on a watermelon. He messed it up so bad, other doctors can’t even begin to come up with a plan to fix it.

I’m supposed to be glad I’m alive. Well I am on somedays. I WANT to be alive dammit! But I want to FEEL alive too! I want to walk, grocery shop, dance, swim, cook, hike, travel…I wanna PLAY!!! Intead, what ya have here i s a woman who can’t do most of those things, atleast not for very long. I can deal with pain…but I want to know if its gonna kill me, is it a blockage? a ichemic lack of blood? Blood clot? Gas? I’m a person who likes anwers. I wanna research what is wrong with me, to find options to fix me. I can’t just sit here waiting to die.

They don’t like smart patients…no they do not…cuz then they gotta do some explaining and answering. That makes em uncomfortable…cuz sometimes I know more than they do…hmm hmm. They don’t like that..

This piece of defective wad of chubby flesh is mine still. I’m not impressed by it. It repulses me. I don’t feel like a woman really. Kinda feel like a pregnant one. Withouts the perks. I love babies, but those days for me are over. So grand babies are who I wanna be playing with. If my blimbo bod can move a bit.

I spent the day watching a Dr Redan in Florida, and his technique for removing adhesions. He seems very thorough. But I’m not convinced he could help me. I have alot of the very thick and tenacious bands of scar tissue, they are harder to cut and quick to return, all these sepra fils they use, I think were used on me and failed, as much of everything tried on me does fail.

Image

Go ahead, mention my negativity…bad karma…I know all of it. I’ve read more positive books/quotes/faith based living, I have tried living like a nun who loves the whole world and just wants love and positivity for all….I do prefer it to the negative side I must say, but you will get more people to talk to you when you’re in misery than with you’e happy…proven pointl. Sad eh?

I did manage to “do the deed’ tonite..this after weeks of Mirilax, Colace, Lactulose, castor oil, prune juice and suppositories…soo woo hoo! One BM a month…and it’s a miserable and painful experience…nothing normal about it. IT’S AS PAINFUL AS GIVING BIRTH TO A NETTLE BUSH.

It’s an odd spot to be in. I WANT TO LIVE! I really do…I want to be with my family. I want to watch them grow. I want to be here to help them, guide them, take silly pictures of them, throw parties for them, host holidays for them…I”M MOM! I want to be here…yet, there are times when the pain take over and I SAY THAT I WANT OUT! JUST END IT ALREADY…but I don’t mean that.

Chronic Pain can make you say and do some crazy things. I find I’m starting to leave my family “goodbye” notes in books or my journal…I look for gifts that have meaning for when I’m gone. I feel I’m racing against a death clock, but I don’t know when the time runs out. I find myself pushing my seventeen year old daughter with information about life as fast as I can…clean this way, wash this way, cook this way, send thank you cards at this time…it’s crazy.I have sooo very many health issues, but it will be the adhesions or the blood clotting disorder that gets me in the end I spose. I’m bettin on digestive…but we shall see. If I could get to a better hospital with a higher caliber of docs like Mayo…and get them to keep me there, running a battery of tests, head to toe and figure out an answer that might just help me, help my pain, turn me back into a living and functioning human being…get the whole Dr. House team involved. Please see me! I’m a person…not a chart!

The doctor the initially perforated my bowel and neglected to notice it then went to Disneyland for a few days while I went to ICU on a vent….yea, I’ve just recently started thinking perhaps he can pay for my Mayo visit. I mean he got his rather large payout for butchering me, then my bills kept rolling to around 2 million….then I have recurring bills from the pain each month, meds, pain docs, pee tests, binders…last months emergency admit to hospital for bowel block/ischemia…the bills are just rolling in…but up to the ten thousand mark and I’m about to bolt. I mean really. These bills are whacked. who could pay these? Its NOT MY DAMN FAULT that this is happening! Call Dr. Cly! He’s rich! Make him pay some of this mess! Am I gonna lose a second home to medical bills? Am I gonna lose a husband who after being a martyr and perfect husband i gonna finally snap and ay he can’t take thi anymore?

Image

Are my kids gonna think or say that they too are tired of hearing it and seeing it each and every day? Maybe so. Am I actually ruining their lives by being here?
I’m sure they worry, thats not good for them. Life i hard enough without worrying bout your parents as your just starting out.

My parents and grandparents are all getting to that state where they need extra help, with yards, meals, cleaning….stuff I want to do…I dreamed of caring for my family. I was a geriatric nurse. But they all know how ill I am and won’t let me help them, which frustrates me.

I want to be someone. I’m at that point where I want to feel I have left something good here in the world. a good memory…was I ever a good mom? What are your memories of the kind of person I was? What did people think iof me/? i REMEMBER some women saying they thought I was snobby but really I was just shy…funny how people can perceive us then how we really are I hate that. When I hear someone describe who I am and its so off target…how does that happen? I have softened as I’ve aged I know that…But life is scary and ya do wat ya do.

All I want is a chance. A chance to be seen by fabulous team of doctors who read my whole case and care and they run many test and find something to help me! Please help me stay with my family to love them longer!

Dr. Geoff Cly…you shoved a trocar thru my intestine and failed to note it…I almot died many time after this…sixteen further repair surgeries…gangrene, flesh eating virus, ostomies, wound vacs, fistulas…it was bad. I wish we woulda videod it. It wa a horror movie.

Image

Durring court Dr. you said you prayed for me…I’m ure you did…you prayed for your butt too I’m sure…why don’t you do the right thing and pay for my medical care??? Even some mental health care…meds? A NEW LAPTOP that has the S key that works???

You Dr. Cly live the charmed life. My family and I suffer daily. I try to be the happy faced actress and somedays I can pull it off…but they are gettin fewer and farer between. Thanks Dr. Cly. In my opinion, you killed me on Nov 4, 2005.

I guess I need an obituary.
You prick.

I have so many clothes, shoes, purses, jewelery…but what for? I rarely leave the house anymore. They are my “just in case” clothes…for the occassional out to dinner or wedding or funeral…I I guess I just learn to purree my foods and still suffer with digestion. Its the movement of the intestines, pulling the scar tissue all the way down. Lets just add the blood clotting diseae, the degenerative disk disease, the osteoarthritis, the fibro, the bad teeth, the broken foot that wont heal…yea, I’m a package of wth.

I’ve never wanted alot out of life. Just a small, healthy loving family. Wanted to take care of them. Buy them special gifts, treat them to dinners, be the fun grandma who played with the kids and babysat all the time, had alot of pets I could walk and play with, go walking, travle a little…nothin major…just like Tennesee and Colorado, Florida and California…once a year…for Jim. I want to take care of Jim, instead of him caring for me.

I hate being this useless burden. I need a purpose. I need to knwo I’ve done a good job with my kids, and I feel I haven’t…I dont know how, cuz I tried really hard to be a great mom…I wasn’t perfect, I know that. I love my kids more than life, I swear, they are my everything. I want so much for them, and now I can’t do much for them and it makes me cry. They are good kids. Very good kids. They don’t smoke, do drugs, drink…they are honest, loyal, principaled, just great home loving kids, they are close to family and I love that. I’m so proud of them both I could scream it from a rooftop how much I love them!

I can’t just move on…wish I could…the pain says hell no! the pain wakes me up. The pain stabs me out of the blue. The pain burns and feels like I’m being torn up inside. The constant nausea is awful. The huge bloating is so unvomfortable.

Image

I am just at that point where I gotta wonder…should I make a change? Is it to contact Mayo…who I can’t afford…is it to go live homeless or with other family member? Where to go that I would be the least burden…thats a joke eh? Sheesh.

My life woulda been so very different if Dr. Cly just would’ve recognized that he jammed that trocar thru my intetin and fixed it right there…I prolly woulda been ok…went on with life, back to nursing…who knows…right now I would love to work with Hospice patient….we will see what God decides.

Thanks for reading!
God Bless!

MeMeTastic Award!

Image

Today I received the MeMetastic blog award from my cyberfriend  Laurie Fessler of http://hibernationnow.   Come play with us and try to discern which of my 5 posts is completely true. Many have bits of truth in them but there is one that is totally true. Can you tell which one it is? Post your comments and thoughts and I will reveal the answer very soon.

There are a few rules that go along with the privilege/honor:

1. Proudly display the award in a post.

2. Post 5 tales about yourself; 4 must be made-up and one true. Now, there can be elements of truth in all the stories. Adding to the fun of creating these self-tales, is that readers can guess (and post in comments) which of the 5 they think is ALL true.

3. Pass the award along to 3 other deserving bloggers. I pick Regan at http://365gratitude.wordpress.com, Java at http://nevergrowingold.blogspot.com, and Jamie at http://chronicmigrainewarrior.blogspot.com.

Here we go:

Image

     1.)  When I was around six-years old I was at the local roller-dome.  We used to go there skating atleast once a week since I was a toddler.  I was an excellent skater!  Whether it be a slow roll around the rink or speed skating…I was in!  This one particular evening, I think it was a Friday or Saturday, because it was jam packed with skaters.  I was rolling around outside the actual rink, over by where you rent your skates or get snacks or sit and watch area.  I vividly remember feeling happy…exhilerated even! 

 I loved being there, the sounds…the smells…the people, plus I just loved being away from home having fun!  Anyway, there I was, this skinny as a stick (yes, I WAS skinny as a stick then! ;)), long golden blond hair, big brown eyes…missing my two front teeth, rolling thru, not paying attention where I was rolling, because I was busy people watching, and BAM I slammed straight into a pillar that was just suddenly there.  An old man came over and helped me up. I was so embarrassed I felt like I just wanted to dissappear!  I rolled to the bathroom and stayed there til my face turned the proper shade of normal skin.

 Needless to say, I paid better attention to where I was rolling after that evening!

Image

    2.)  One night I was really bored.  I had nothing to do and no one to do it with.  I found out my three uncles, mom and dad were all going to go to an area American Legion to see a live band and have a few drinks, so as lame as that sounds, I decided to go.  I was young, single, not ugly…so of course I primped before leaving the house, not alot…just some light make-up, a little extra time on my hair, a pretty green and black sweater and just tight enough black jeans…and black boots.

  So, I was lookin pretty good I thought and then it was confirmed by my neighbor, who is male and a pretty good friend, when he came to the door right before I left and went “Damn girl! You’re looking extra fine tonight!”  Anyway, I went and met up with the family at one of their houses, and we all piled into a van and headed to the Legion.  We walked in, and literally everyone in the bar turned and stared at us as we walked into the place.  Of course we all came in as a group, so that coulda been why, but perhaps it was partially because my mom and I were both a tad more “gussied up” compared to the other people that were there.  We all sat down at one of the long tables and got our drinks and started enjoying the band. 

 During the evening we all would talk, get up and dance, and laugh.  Having a good time.  I saw a guy come walking across the floor carrying a tray of drinks for his table of friends.  He was tall, had longish-curly hair, and had on a pair of cowboy boots.  Do not ask me why, but I just find a man in cowboy boots to be slightly sexy…lol.  So, being the vigilant young single woman I was, used my super-vision and followed him to his table.  I caught his eye…he definitely smiled back…but this went on for atleast an hour, and he never would come up and ask me for a dance!  It was getting rather annoying…why? Was I too ugly? He didn’t seem to be with a female, no ring in sight…so what was the deal?

  I got up and walked over there and said “Do you like to slow dance?” he replied “Yea, I do.” So, I said “Great, next time a slow song comes on, come and get me!” Then I went back to my table and sat back down and continued chatting with my family.  Then…it happened, a slow song started, and he got up, came to the end of the table and waited. Duh. He totally didn’t know what he was doing. So I got up and we hit the dance floor. We were talking, and dancing, and he says “So, are one of those guys at that table your husband?” I laughed and said “God no! They’re my family! Why would I approach you and eyball you all night if I was with someone?” He said, I don’t know, but when a woman is at a table with a bunch of guys I can’t just start hittin on her!”

 We ended up talking the rest of the night, he even lived thru the third-degree by my entire family.  That’s when I knew, this guy was gonna be my husband.  We’ve been together ever since.

Image

     3.)  On a sunny day when my son was about two-years old, he and I took a drive to the local park.  I had packed up a little lunch of PB&J (his fave), chips, cauliflower and  a cookie for each.  I found a big shady tree to sit under, which was close to a fishing pond and a set of swings was also nearby.  Jeremy was and still is a good kid. Fairly easy to control…so as I was spreading out the blanket and getting the food out, I felt confident he would stay by my side.

  I’m one of those “hyper-vigilant” parents, you know, don’t let your kid out of your sight for one second types? So, as I was getting set up I kept sayin, “Just stand right here by mommy Jeremy, don’t move…Good boy…just stay right here.”  Well, in that split second he was gone!  I whirled around looking in every direction, he was nowhere to be seen.  I couldn’t breathe.  My heart was in my throat.  The only thing in my head was “THE WATER!”

  I ran to the pond, without stopping, ran right INTO the water…the whole time screaming to the few people who were around, “MY BABY! MY BABY IS DROWNING!!!”  Until, suddenly, a man yells “MISS! Is this him?”  I spun around, as well as one can while waist deep in water, and there at waters edge, standing with a short, stout older man…was my boy.  With a worried look on his face, and says “Mommy, you say stay way frwum da wadder.”  So I took my first breath in what seemed like an hour, trudged thru water back to land, picked him up, thanked the gentleman, went back to the picnic spot and held onto Jeremy’s arm with one hand, while packing up with the other. 

 I got us into our car.  Started driving down the street, and burst into tears.  From the backseat Jeremy says “It’s awwite mommy, you tan swim adin amorro!”

Image

     4.)  When I was fifteen years old I had a huge crush on Rick Springfield.  A friend and I would travel around to see him in concert.  Saying we were fans of  his would be like saying the sky is blue.  It was our life…loving Rick Springfield.  Our rooms were covered with his posters, our stereos had his albums spinning, we wore tshirts with his gorgeous face on them, we had pillowcases with him and giggled when we said we were “sleeping with Rick” each night. 

 When he came on the tv we would literally drop to our knees and scream while staring at the screen.  At one concert in Michigan, we were determined to find his hotel.  We did all the leg-work and found it.  He was at the Hilton, close to the airport.  We sat in our car and hatched our plan.  We were gonna be IN his room by nights end.  Now do not get the wrong idea, in no way was our desire sexual…it was just…more than we could handle to think of being within three foot of him…we just wanted to BE with him.  So, that evening we went to the hotel, and after a bit of chat with the hotel employees and some snooping, we found the employee breakroom which had a changing area. 

 We got in there and put on the housekeeping uniforms, and grabbed a linen cart and headed to the elevators.  As we did, the front desk worker said, “Hey! You two know you’re sposed to use the private elevators to take that up!” So, we mumbled our understanding and headed around the corner, to where we didn’t know, but then we saw it, a different type elevator, we decided that must be what he was talking about. 

 We pushed the button marked PH.  We were giddy with excitement, we had a plan to get into his room…and get his autograph, and if all went well a giant hug!  Our blood was pumping wildly, both our faces glowing red with the excitement of it all!  The elevator doors open. There. Standing with atleast five other people was…RICK Springfield!  He smiled and said “Oh, I’m sorry, excuse me…let me help you pull that outta there…” We stood there with our mouths agape, speechless…while our heart-throb himself pulled that big ole linen cart out of the elevator.

  As it cleared the door of the elevator, the doors slid shut…the last thing I saw was Ricks face as he turned back to see us still standing there with the doors closing.  We turned to each other and started screaming and crying, we were hysterical.  We started punching buttons on the elevator wildly…not even thinking that it would lock up the elevator.  Which it did. It came to a screeching halt and alarms went off.  We had to be “rescued” by hotel maintenance, who were none to pleased about it, nor were the supervisors of the hotel.  They threatened to have us arrested, but ended up letting us go with a harsh lecture.

  We got in our car and we went to the concert, we were in the pit and when Rick came out on stage, we were there…screaming his name with our arms stretched out and by the second chorus of “Jesse’s Girl” he had bent down and touched our hands! That was as close to “being with Rick” we ever got…but it was all we needed.

Image

     5.)  It was a hot and humid August day.  I was out walking my dog, Dexter.  We would walk each afternoon around 4pm.  Just before dinner had to get underway.  We walked a trail at a park near our house.  It was shady, but that didn’t help on this particular day.  The humidity was unbearable.  Our walks usually lasted about an hour, so I didn’t take any water or anything with us, we just headed out. 

 This was before everyone and their mother carried cell phones, so I didn’t have one.  We were about a half an hour into the walk when as we were rounding a corner on the path I tripped over a root in the ground from one of the huge oak trees that were in the park.  I hit the ground HARD. My knees hit first, then my head hit the ground with a sickening thud.  I woke up to the sound of my dog whimpering.  I opened my eyes as he was licking my face.  I was trying to figure out what was going on, why I was on the ground? I tried to get up, but pain ripped thru my back, knees and head.

  I couldn’t stand up.  Tears welled up in my eyes as I began to cry, but I couldn’t even do that due to the pain, taking a deep breath was excruciating…the pain felt like it was thru my middle spine clear thru my rib-cage.  I must have broke my back was all I could think.  I tried to call out to anyone that might be around, but couldn’t make a sound more than a grunt.  Dexter kept crying and barking, and nudging me with his nose.

 I reached out to touch him, but it too caused more pain than I could stand.  I couldn’t think strait. How can I get up? I need to get up and get to a hospital. I knew that it was silly but I thought if only I could get out the words “Dexter, go get help!” Maybe he could do it, just like Lassie and get us help from home.  Looking back I know I didn’t believe that dogs could even do that, it was just Hollywood… not something a normal everyday dog could do.

  I said in what couldn’t have been more than a whisper, “Dex, go home…go home Dex!” He kept circling me, but wouldn’t leave. I tried again to get up, but that wasn’t happening.  I knew being a nurse, that maybe I had ruptured a disk in my spine from the fall, that could explain the pain I was having.  I knew my family would be expecting me by no later than 6pm.  But would they come looking for me? Or perhaps they would assume we had stopped off at a friends house as we sometimes did?  How long would I lay here?  It was still so hot, I was sweating just laying still on the ground.

 I tried again to get Dex to “go home” and this time, after again nudging me and licking my face, he left!  I lay there wondering, is he going to go home? Will he get hit by a car? Will someone steal him? Will he get lost? If he does go home, will anyone be there? What will they think? Will they remember where my trail was?  After what seemed an eternity I heard the sound of footsteps and my husbands voice yelling my name…I still couldn’t make much noise, but I did what I could to make myself noticed, and then there was Dexter! He was running all around me barking wildly! Not far behind was Jim.

 He said he had been sitting out back on the patio, when Dex came running around the back of the house.  He was whining and whimpering, and kept running up to Jim and then back to the corner of the house.  Jim said he couldn’t figure out what was going on?! He tried to get Dex into the house, but Dex wouldn’t go.  Jim said Dex behaved just like on a Lassie show or other “dog hero” type show, and Jim finally figured he better get in the car and head to the park, and that was how he found me.

  Yes. My dog Dexter is a hero. And I have fallen and tripped on more than one occassion since then.  I had indeed ruptured a disk in my thoracic spine, as well as injured both kneecaps, and ruptured a tendon in my foot.  But, after I had healed, Dex and I started back on our daily walks, and we did so for many years after, up until his death in 2008. He is still my hero, as I keep his picture at my bedside and smile at his sweet face each night before going to sleep.

     SO…THERE YOU HAVE IT!  5 “Me” stories…which ONE is ALL true?  You comment and let me know or message me…then I will reveal to you which one is all true.

Thanks for reading, and thank you to Laurie for giving me the award and for the other bloggers included! As I’ve said before, I’m not a great writer, I write for fun and as a venting mechanism…but I couldn’t live without writing, that’s for sure!

The Little Girl…part 8

After finally getting another nurse to take her concerns seriously, an MRI was done and it was found that she had a pulmonary embolism.  A blood-clot in her lung, a potentially fatal condition!  They were able to dissolve the clot with Heparin and Lovenox.  She has a bloodclotting disorder called Antiphospholipid Syndrome and will forever need to take a blood thinner and make monthly trips to a Coumadin Outpatient Clinic.  She is giving up hope of ever getting better.  Of ever going back to her old life.  Depression sits heavy on her mind.  She thinks of suicide often, even plans it.  She frequently asks to speak to the hospital clergy, and prays with them…hoping somehow their “holyness” will rub off on her! 

Finally after missing family birthdays, and many holidays…she is sent home.  A home nursing service will follow her.  Her abdomen will remain open until it is safe for them to attempt to reconnect her intestine and allow her to eat.  At home she is only able to lay in the recliner, she cannot lay in bed because she is unable to get back up.  She has a wound vac attached to her abdomen, that suctions secretions out, she has the central line still providing her nutrition, a bag is hung each night for this purpose.  Her husband and grandfather have learned how to care for all her tubing and feedings and machines…a big job for two “regular guys.”  There are many trips to the hospital due to infections, electrolyte imbalances, ostomy leaks and tests.  But she is thankful to be home.  Although she is basically a “lump in a chair” atleast she is surrounded by her family.  She begins to slowly recover and to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

She is finally ready to try to have the final surgery to reconnect her intestines and close up her abdomen.  She is extremely nervous about more complications but is also very hopeful that the end of this nightmare is near.  She comes through the surgery very well…no complications this time!  The staples run from her breastbone to her pubic bone.  The criss-crossing scars allover her belly look like a child’s scribbled map…but she is just happy her “insides” are again ON the inside where they belong!  The recovery process is slow and scary.  The constant fear that she would develop a fistula (hole) in her bowel or an infection or a blockage is at the forefront of her mind.  She will forever live with pain due to adhesions, scar tissue, neuralgia, neuromas, and bowel issues…there is a very high risk for obstructions and she must really be careful about what she eats…no raw veggies or fruits, no red meats, no nuts or seeds, no beans…nothing high in fiber.  But she is free of tubes!  Her body is hers again!

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, months into years.  Her children grow up.  She becomes a grandmother at 45!  She is so thrilled with her grandson!  During his infancy she cradles him lovingly every chance she gets!  Although she tires easily and has constant pain, she revels in these moments with her first grandbaby!  Her marriage has developed into a very close if passionless partnership.  Due to the pain, intimacy is all but non-existant.  She is unable to hold a “real job” due to her health issues.  They lost their home due to their mounting medical bills.  They now lived in a cheap rental, but she did her best to make it their home.  It was just the two of them now.  They had what they would consider a decent life now, always thankful to be alive and to be here for her children and now grandchild.  They found a wonderful church to worship at.  Although she had gone through a period of anger at God for what had happened to her, she always kept her faith, and her relationship with God open. 

She wanted to find a “meaning” to all she had been through in her life.  Why had her life been such a struggle?  Was she a bad person?  A bad little girl?  A bad daughter?  A bad mom?  She imagined she must have been some horrible person in a past life to deserve such misery!  Lizzy Borden perhaps?  She felt there must be a reason God had set her on such a tumultuous path in life.  There must be some meaning she was to find.  She is compelled to discover it.  She wonders if she can use what she’s been through to help others?  But how?  She knows one thing for sure…she did not live through all she’s lived through, for nothing!

To be continued

“Unhappiness ultimately arises not from the circumstances of your life, but from the conditioning of your mind”  Tolle

The Little Girl…part 5

Here she was.  In teen jail.  With girls who were BAD.  For real bad…like run away from home, sell drugs, kick your ass bad! The gurards made them strip and shower…with no privacy.  Led them down some very plain and scary halls, the color of barf.  They were led to the “dayroom” it was equally ugly and scary.  Threadbare carpet, puke colored walls, dingy and ripped couches, an old tv and a pool table in the middle of the room.  There were groups of girls just staring at them. ” This is it,” she thought to herself,  “This is where I’m gonna die.”  There were girls in there who had run away from home in New York…she wondered why anyone would run away to Indiana?  These girls were not looking to make new friends.  Thankfully she only had to spend a couple hours in the dayroom with these “hardened criminals.”  It was time for bed.  Atleast she had her own room.  Cement walls.  Toilet anchored to the wall.  A stone cot with the thinnest mattress in existence.  She didn’t sleep a wink of course.  Her mom came to get her the next morning and the judge gave them probation, then expunged her record later.

Lesson learned…atleast to never steal.  Now partying?  That was a different story.  The girl continued doing well gradewise in school, but she was left alone alot.  She lived in an apartment complex and became friendly with a couple of guys who lived there, and their apartment was THE party place in the area.  Parties every night just about.  Older people than her mostly.  But they treated her cool…she felt like a grown up with them.  Little did she know, they didn’t care how old she was…not at all.

At one of these parties, they kept her supplied with plenty of alcoholic drinks…one after another.  She trusted these guys…they were her friends!  She was like their little sister!  She learned…a little too late…not really.  She passed out.  When she woke up, someone was on top of her…she was being raped.  She tried pushing him off, she cried out…it was dark but she could see who it was…she scratched him and he slapped her and called her names as he got up and told her to get out!  She left, went home and showered.  She didn’t even think about calling the police or even telling anyone.  She knew it was her fault.  Her fault for drinking and partying with them.  She never told.  Soon after she got her first REAL boyfriend.  She was soo in love with Mark!  He was extremely handsome, tall and funny too!  They became inseparable.  They would be together for the next four years.  Those were good years…but they were young, and it just wasn’t meant to last. 

After Mark, she met Jeff.  He was four years older than her.  He was 22, and experienced…and mature, or so she thought.  He told her all kinds of stories, and she bought them.  She was so hungry for affection, she just wanted to be loved.  There were signs he wasn’t going to be good to her.  But she didn’t pay attention to them.  They married.  He was abusive.  It started out as just emotional abuse, but she didn’t think it was that bad.  So, he called her names…big deal…right?  Ok, so he slapped her once or twice…isn’t that how all relationships are?  Next thing she knew she was pregnant.  She was thrilled!  A baby!  Something all her own to love!  And to love her!  She was so excited about this baby!  She quickly started scouring garage sales and stores for baby items!  She was on a budget, but she made sure she would have everything perfect for her baby!  The pregnancy went well, she and baby were healthy…Jeff continued the emotional abuse, left her a couple times, had affairs, but she continued to take him back.  She just thought this was the way it was.  After the baby was born, life went on.  She loved her baby girl so much!  She was perfect! The marriage continued on it’s path of destruction however.  She did leave him once or twice…but always got conned into coming back.  He would beg and plead with her to return.  He would promise to never hit her, never yell at her and to never cheat on her again…but again and again, he did just that.  Then she was pregnant again.

This pregnancy wasn’t as easy as the first.  She couldn’t work through this one.  Jeff continued his ways, but at this point she was only staying for the security of having a home for her babies.  Once her second daughter was born…she knew she had to get out.  She started to see the fear in the kids eyes…they were HER eyes as a child!  She moved back home with her mother, until she could get on her feet.  But would she ever?

to be continued

Try to find a little something each day to make it a holiday!

Valentines and Love

In honor of Valentines Day, this blog will be about my husband Jim.  Although I do not tell him as often as I should, I am very lucky to have him for a husband.  He has stood by me and taken care of me for sooo many years, many of which were very, very challenging to say the least!

Now, when we met, I do not believe this poor man knew what lay in store for him, should he “catch” this younger and at the time…quite cute wife!  Our “meeting” was MY doing actually…see, on this particular evening, I went out with my parents and uncles, for a “hot night on the town” at a local American Legion!  Yes, I was in my twenties…going out with my family…to an American Legion…on a Saturday night!  Whew, what a wild thing I was eh?  lol

As I sat with my family at a table, watching a live band…I saw this tall good looking guy walking across the floor…wearing cowboy boots!  Now, I gotta say, there is something kinda sexy about a man in cowboy boots and jeans to me!  So, now that I had him in my “sights” I kept my eye on him for awhile, he was sitting at a table with a few other people, but didn’t appear to have a female companion…

I kept “eyeballing” him…but he wouldn’t come over and ask me to dance!  I was getting impatient, so I got up and approached his table and asked “Do you like to slow dance?” to which he answered “Yes” to which I replied “Then the next time one comes up, come and get me!” and I walked away…pretty cocky huh? 

So, as he was instructed, when the next slow song started…he came and asked me to dance!  As we danced he said he had noticed me when we walked in, but was afraid to ask me to dance because he thought one of my uncles may have been my date…so I could stop thinking I was some kind of ugly freak he wasn’t interested in then!

So, that is how are relationship began!  He thought he was gettin a young hottie!  Little did he know he was gonna end up having to be MY nurse for many years!  I take my hat off to him for all he has had to do for me.  During my most ill times, he has literally had my intestine IN HIS HANDS!  He had to learn to change my ostomy bags, how to change caps on lines that went into my chest, to do tube feeding, to shower and clean me, to administer my medications, check my blood sugars…he did all this while working 40 or more hours a week, keeping the house running with our 2 kids and pets (with alot of help from my grandparents/parents).

All of that was very stressful on him and the rest of my family.  Jim is a very caring and affectionate man.  I tease him by saying he is more like the stereotypical female and me the male…because I am not a lovey dovey, touchy feely type of person (except with my kids)…and he is.  He takes my sarcasm and my jokes very well!  He knows my humor, although he doesn’t always appreciate it!  😉

I have told him on many occassions how much I have appreciated all he has had to do and still has to do for me…but it will never really convey how much it has meant to me.  This is a man who on top of all he has had to endure with my health issues, still will cook, clean, grocery shop and take care of me on my bad days…and rarely complains.  Not many men out there would have been able or would have wanted to do all he has.

So, Honey…HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!  I am lucky to have liked your cowboy boots so many years ago!  xoxoxox

“Love means never having to say your sorry”

Thanks to all my readers!  Please pass the link onto your friends!