Thursday, October 13, 2016

Just another day in October---

Okay,so its's been a couple of years since a post. No, I cannot blame it on Facebook, at least, not anymore. I deleted my account there more than a year ago. So --- I guess you could say I have no excuse - other than the fact that my life is spent in pain, every second of every day. I have had so many friends here but most of them have given up on me, with good reason, I understand. I just cannot live like a normal person anymore....even though I pray so hard each and every day to be able to do that. So far, no luck. Six back surgeries in the past two years and I am still in hell. Waiting for my shoulder area bones to fuse so that I can have yet another surgery. Sadly, I live my life trying to get to the next one, hoping that will be the one that works.

Otherwise, my life is good. I still have a husband - heaven knows why - and three kids that still like me. And I have SIX (6) Grandkids!!! SIX!!!!  And they are the reason that I haven't completely given up. They range in age from 7 to two weeks old. Five are boys -- LOL -- and one little girl that is about 18 months. If I am able to do anything, it is for them.

So, just a short update --- I just am not up to any more right now. Just saying that I am still breathing, if anyone is still looking. I understand if not --  after this long, who remembers?

If I have any readers, thank you. Have a great day --- big hugs.


Saturday, July 05, 2014

He knows not what he sings....

"Regrets, I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention". Oh yeah, sing it Frank - or Elvis, or... (fill in your own singer of your favorite version here)

I call bullshit.

Am I really supposed to believe that he doesn't have regrets? That you all don't have regrets?

I sure do have them. Lots of them. And I'm tired of hearing that we shouldn't live with regret, that somehow to feel sorry for the way that we've mis-handled something in our lives is wrong. Thank goodness that we do feel regret, for if we did not, how would we ever be able to change? How could we grow and do things differently if we hadn't done them incorrectly in the first place?

To live a life with regret says that you have lived a life. I am not sorry about that. 

So, shut up Frank. You don't know what you're talking about.


Monday, May 12, 2014

The Best Day

I had the best Mother's Day in a really, really long time.

All of my Grandsons have birthdays in May and August. I didn't make it to my oldest Gsons birthday party last week, I just couldn't. So - I planned a little birthday party here for all the boys, with cake and ice cream and presents and fun. I had it yesterday, on Mother's Day. I got presents for all of the boys - and I will do another party for all of them, in August. It can't hurt to have two birthday parties at Grandma's house each year. There is no greater joy than watching those boys open presents from Gma and Gpa. I loved every second of it.

I killed two birds with one stone, also. Both of my in-state kids were with me on my day, as well. They usually are --- but this year I was able to have dinner for all of us before the cake. I got the most wonderful gifts from my kids and husband --- and I got a card from my oldest son in Colorado! Let me tell you, that is something! (I know he loves me, but darnit - he just doesn't understand the meaning of putting a card in the mail to me.) Or maybe he's beginning to get it...

Anyway ---
 This awesome canvas pic is from Jordan -- my baby. It is his engagement pic taken last month (the wedding is in July). I think it is such a beautiful shot --- his soon to be bride is Tegan, and that awesome baby there is Wrigley --- yep Wrigley, named after the stadium, and this photo was taken here in Des Moines at the home of the i-Cubs, Chicago's minor team. Jord and Tegan are both baseball nuts, Wrigley has already spent a day at the stadium here, the plan is for his first birthday at a game in Chicago. Just an FYI - Jordy told me years ago - maybe age 15 -  that he would someday have a son and name him Wrigley. I laughed. When they talked of names last year, I found then name had really grown on me, not that that mattered, but I do really like it. It is unique, and I think little Wriggs will be, too.
 My awesome daughter got me this beautiful bracelet, I LOVE the colors. It didn't dawn on me that it is a grandchild bracelet ---  May, August, May, August! I am so proud of it.
 My Mark got me flowers and a great card. I got cards from all of my kids --- I'm telling you, I just cried.
These are pics that both of my kids brought to me, just because.
 Aren't my g'kids awesome?

 These are random pics from through out the day:

The only thing that could have made this day better was if Craig could have been here, too. He called. (And sent me a card!!) LOL   And, he and his GF will be here in July, for the wedding.

I really am not bragging, but this day was so perfect. You know, we don't get too many of those, right?

I'm out.  :)

Sunday, May 04, 2014

Still crazy, after all these years

As weeks go, this one has been stellar --- if you can use that word in a negative way. I have had a stellar-ly awful week. In bed for the most part - which isn't really usual, at least not for this long of a stretch. To be fair, I really should have expected it because the week before, the week that I decided to start writing here again, I was doing pretty well. I was up and about, actually able to get out of these four walls at least once each day. In my world, that is a big, BIG win. So, to have to suffer more than usual all the next week is not all that unexpected. My world consists of choices and bargains. If I choose to spend energy and ability on this thing, then I won't have either energy or ability to do that. It is a system that I have become used to and can usually manage, but that is not to be confused with "I'm okay with it". I am not okay with any of it, not that it does me any good. So --- you work with what God gave ya.  Bleh.

One really huge - good thing did happen. My pain management doctor, who has been in deep do-do for the past two long years, was acquitted of all charges in his trial. If you want to read about the case you can find the information here. The whole case from the very beginning was a witch hunt. None of it would have happened had one of his patients not been Paul Gray from the band Slipknot. I has been seeing him for just over two years and I thought he was a great doctor. My sister had been seeing him for almost twenty years. I don't know what really happened with any of those people that died, only they and the doctor really know the truth. But I do know for a fact that there was no malicious behavior from Dr B, and I know for certain that no doctor should be held up in a court of law on murder charges. I was afraid for the doctor himself, obviously, in this mess, but I was also afraid for the future of medicine in many different ways if he was found guilty. The whole idea of criminal charges being pinned on any doctor where suicide is involved is scary and could change the outlook of medical care. I'm not sure that this hasn't already left a scar of some kind in that area but it's not nearly as bad as a GUILTY verdict would have been. A very, very slippery slope, one that needs to be avoided at all costs. So --- I was waiting impatiently for a verdict and I really believed if they were going to acquit, it would happen within the first day of deliberation. Once the second day got under way, I began to get nervous about all of it. It took two full days for the jury to decide. One last mention from me--I am sad for the doctor because his life is ruined, or nearly so, even with the not guilty decision. I really don't see how he can return to practice after this. I know that financially, his life is a mess. I would also think that it would be difficult to try and come back to where he once was, given what many have had to say about him. True or not, charges of this nature ruins you long before the trial. It just makes me sad for him, and sad for many who depended on him.Once the charges were filed two years ago, many were left without any kind of pain care, and those who still could find it have been treated by doctors that are scared to have anything to do with pain medications. So, I guess you could say that it already did change the way medicine is practiced, and not in a good way. But, enough of that.

I have written all I can for now. I'm having so much trouble with so many things and I just can't write anymore. I will honestly try- Jose - to get back here more this week. I did get to read many of your blogs again, and I have many of them bookmarked, so I shouldn't lose any of you again.  :)

Much love and big hugs. I'm out.

Friday, April 25, 2014

An un-posted post, from 2011

I wrote the following in 2011. It was the anniversary of my first marriage, I don't know why I wrote it then, I don't know why I didn't finish it or publish it. Reading it again this morning, I see that it is worthy of being said, if only for my kids to read someday, after I'm gone. He was their dad after all, and while they all know how much I loved him, this may explain (briefly) that rocky relationship. I have not mentioned this blog to them in years, I assume they have no reason to look here any more. But even if they would read here now or in the near future, it would be okay, I don't keep too many secrets.  :)

Thirty-two years ago today, I got married. I was a starry eyed, niave, young and stupid girl, just a few weeks shy of nineteen. He was eleven years older than I, although I did not know that yet. (He shaved a few years off of his real age, although that fact was insignificant to me and it would not have mattered.) To say I was in love would be an understatement. I was that, but I was also in love with the whole idea of love and marriage and family, and I was nearly obsessed with HIM. He was all that mattered in my world. He was all that was important to me, all that I thought about, cared about, and lived for back then. He was a good man, really. He wanted the same type of life that I cared about, he wanted children, he loved fast cars and dogs and cats and kids and his mother, sort of. He loved ME. He made me feel wanted and special and needed. And stupid. Oh how he could make me feel so stupid...laughing at my young and stupid ways, my lack of knowledge of the adult world, the fact that I had no idea what the real world was. I suppose I should tell you that we dated for six weeks prior to our marriage. Yes, I know. But it could have easily have been six months or six years, the outcome would have been the same. He made me want to get it right--everything. He made me want to learn to do it all, he made me want to "break out" of my stupidity and be smarter. I thought he knew absolutely everything. He had to be the smartest man that ever lived. He was educated plus naturally smart, and had the biggest dreams of anyone I had ever met. He made me laugh. We spent so much time talking and dreaming and laughing, I can't even tell you. I waited impatiently until he would get back home, when he had to be gone from me. Within a very few months of our union, I became pregnant and that was the beginning of the most magical time of my life. He made me feel so very loved and wanted and so damned happy. I spent many days crying, seriously, with happiness. I couldn't believe my fortune or my luck.

However, those were the good days. Those were the days that life was perfectly right. There were many, many days that I was left wondering what in the world had happened to the man that I had said "I do and I will" to. The bad days were right there, smack in the middle of all the good. I can't say that the bad came later, after a period of time, or that they progressively became worse over the years, because they didn't. The bad days happened right along with the good, in the middle of the wonderful. I didn't know then and still don't know for sure now, but the man had mental problems. All I knew back then was that he had his days when he was in "a mood". The bad mood days left me feeling helpless and hopeless and even more stupid and so dark inside. He was not violent with me, not ever. But there was no item, no special thing, nothing electronic, or mechanical that would be spared. His rage would spill out of him like vomit, and I could see that he was helpless to stop it. All I knew was that I wanted it to go away, to stop, and

I wonder now what I would have written here. My days of thinking about this time in my life are gone. I am sure that's due to my current predicament, if I were well, I would still have all these opinions on oh-so-many-things. For now, I'm incapable of this kind of writing. I have hope that I will return to it. There is always hope, right?  Hugs and love, all.  :)

Tuesday, April 22, 2014


OMGosh, I can't believe that I wrote a (rotten) post today, after months and months of silence and SEVEN of my friends - my wonderful,wonderful friends have commented already.  I do believe that all of us miss our old writing days. Yes to all of you -- I'll do better at writing and reading what you all have to say. Thank you, you've made me cry. I love you all. Xo

It's been so long,

will anyone remember who I am?

I miss the old blogging days, the days before Facebook and Twitter. Those were the days when we blogged and made friends. We wrote long entries about our lives, our feelings, our families, our pets, our jobs and our friends. Now, we post a sentence or two, a photo or two, and the "friends" that we made while blogging have mostly gone by the wayside. We no longer have any idea what goes on in each others lives, really - we have little idea how our friends actually ARE. Many of us had issues with our health way back then, of course that generally leads to further issues and troubles, and we don't really even know how the others are doing. That is sad to me. I miss those days. I miss my friends. I miss my life, then.

I am increasingly worse. Each day, I have a bit more pain, a bit less mobility, and I am a bit shorter. I was 5'8" all of my life. I am now just under 5'2". I KNOW. It is very unusual for a person of my age to develop scoliosis, but that is what has happened. I lean to the left. I have a pregnant stomach because those six inches from the middle have to go somewhere, and that sway that used to shape my backside is now pushed forward. I think that is the thing I look forward to the most after the upcoming surgery - losing this damned stomach. I have been in mourning for what I used to be, and let me tell you (warn you, those of you that have always put yourselves down the way that I always did) it can be taken from you. You can lose it. It can get worse and then, you will find yourself praying for what you used to honestly hate ---. Please take it from me, we really should try to be the best that we can be, and then, we need to be proud of what we look like. To spend a life wishing we look different, maybe shorter or taller, fatter or thinner, whatever; it can be taken from you. I didn't know that. I had no earthly idea that I could wake up one morning with a stomach that appears to have a seven-month baby inside. I didn't know it was possible to look in the mirror and see your shoulders facing one direction, your middle facing another. Overnight, people. These things happened literally overnight. I have had spine problems for many years. The degree to which they have become is unfathomable. And so now --- I am facing a surgery that literally scares the you-know-what right out of me.
I thought it would take place in May but due to circumstances that are out of my control, it seems that it will be June at the earliest. I cannot get in to see my surgeon (and schedule the surgery) until the 10th of June. The later date is both a blessing and a curse. But my feelings are that it is all way out of my control anyway, whatever happens from now on is up to God. I have place myself on autopilot solely for survival. I have never been so afraid....  I have been through some very serious medical procedures and surgeries. You can't have spine problems and not have gone through some less than fun times. But this surgery that looms is a thousand times more than any of all of that, combined. I have a choice, I don't have to have it done. But what I am doing now is not living. And, I am getting worse. Eventually, there won't really be a choice. So, I see no point in waiting. If I can't really have a life, I'd rather not have one at all. I want to be able to do things again. Now, I spend 99% of my time waiting for the next pill to help the pain. I don't like how the drugs make me feel, I hate the whole process of getting them, I hate everything about all of it. Occasionally I have a day that I can actually function a little. But if I do too much, I pay for the next few days. No, none of what I go through now is worth it. I want my life back. I am not stupid enough to believe that I will be what I once was, but I do have a shot at getting some of it back. Like anything, there will be things that I will have to give up to get some of what I once was back, but the compromises will (hopefully) be worth it. I pray that I will be able to get out and walk again, for long distances, (like my surgeon said I would), and that I will be able to at least cut back drastically on the medications. Secretly, I am praying that I can go back to work. I miss my job and my professional life most of all. But it all remains to be seen. On one hand, waiting is hell. On the other, there isn't enough time left. Yes,I know I sound crazy. At some point, I will share the mechanics of what is to happen to me on that table. Right now, I think I have said enough about me.

I have lost so many of my old friends blog addresses. I am trying to find them all again, but many are gone, or have moved, or like me -- have been neglected for way too long. I was recently invited to write again by Wendy, one of the old, original blogging group, and I told her that I just wasn't physically able. For the most part, that is true. But I am going to try. Honestly --- I am.

If you stop by, please let me know you were here. And leave me your blog address so that I can find you all again. I really, really have missed you all.   Much love.

Friday, July 19, 2013

If the third time is so effing charming, am I to assume that one and two sucked you know what?

"THIS is why we don't have nice things."   This line is a joke around our house, thanks to daughter numero uno and company - a cute story from years back, and oh-so-fitting in my life. Why do I bring that up this Friday morning? Because for the second time in a week, one of the furry felines that reside here have broken a major thing of beauty in this apartment. If I own it and I really, really love it -- I can count on it being broken. I mean I can count on it.This morning, it was one of the living room lamps, a really, really heavy item, made of some kind of metal - the whole lighting part where the bulb goes is smashed to smithereens, and of course the bulb blew everywhere. The yellow kitty, the one we call TONKA (his name fits, am I right?), went flying through the underside of the end table, taking the cord attached to the lamp with him, and all hell broke loose from there. I am lucky this happened while Mark was still getting ready for work, it would have been impossible to clean that mess up alone. So, after nearly vacuuming the entire place, things have been put back to rights, minus one major lamp, of course. Last week, it was the last remaining Scentsy pot, broken in many pieces. It was not repairable. Fortunately, Mark will be able to fix the lamp that was broken this morning. The lampshade will never look the same, but if you look closely at any of the lampshades in this place, you will see that all of them have hit the floor at one time or another. The kitties are not the only guilty parties around here. I have a grandson that has bad luck when it comes to grandmas pretty things. He has been doing better recently, but for a while there, he was on quite a streak of bad luck. I have a bad memory so I cannot tell you what has been destroyed, I just remember being sad that I lost this thing or that. I do try to buy things that are different and unusual so replacing many of my things is impossible.I do remember losing a stand-tall on the floor sort of wood sculpture, loosely resembling a giraffe that I loved very much. I bought it at Pier One so it could have been replaced but it was no longer in stock, at the store or online. Brodie did the final damage to it, but Mark had already left his mark (pun intended) on it, when we were moving. (When Brodie broke something he was always so sorry and sad that I felt mostly bad for him, never mind what he broke) The funny thing about Mark is, he never, ever breaks anything that is his. He only breaks my stuff. That makes you think, doesn't it? Hmmm... So anyway, I lived my early adult life never having much because my kids were murder on stuff. Now, it's kitties, husband, and grand kids. Am I the only one who has this problem?

It's Friday again. Damn if they don't just keep coming around...

I am listening to Bruno Mars, Let It Rain. Love it, Love it.

The weather has been so ugly for the past couple of weeks. It is summer so I know that it is supposed to be hot, but the humidity has been unbearable, so I have not been getting out and about the way I want to. My own health troubles have not been very conducive anyway. I went through a couple of really good weeks, and I got used to it. Now, I am back to normal and I struggle to do anything. I am forcing myself to do some things, anyway. I take the garbage all the way to the chute, and that is quite a long walk. I am getting the mail now, I took the key from Mark. That is a long way, too. If I need to get to the car, that requires a long walk, as well. I have been out walking, several times. So, I am doing better. I have also shrunk another inch. I am now 5'3". I was and have always been 5'8", since I was thirteen years old.I can't help but wonder if all the walking and activity is making my spine worse. I would ask my docs, but they won't know, because they don't know how or why this is happening in the first place. I asked my neurologist if walking was okay, and he told me it was----so I keep doing it. I just don't know if it's helping or hurting. I do know that I am making NO headway in the weightloss area. I was doing great, then the lymphedema in my left leg and abdomen started up again, so hell--- who knows if I am helping myself or hurting? It is EXTREMELY disconcerting when I am killing myself to look better, only to wake one morning and be one size bigger and seven pounds heavier just overnight. I cannot tell what is real, what is water. I am on the edge of giving up altogether. I can wear cute jeans on one day, the next, I can't get them over my knees.That is a real and true WTF, people.

I have fallen a couple of times in the past week. That hasn't happened in a while, but it really blows. I am standing, then I am just --- not. Adults are not supposed to fall, you know? When we are kids, we fall all the time. We know it, we are used to it, our bones and bodies recover easily. As adults, it's just not that easy. I am afraid of falling in public. Especially when I am alone. OMGosh, I think I would just die of embarrassment, let alone of the actual pain. I am a bit leery of getting out by myself, for that reason. I already do enough to embarrass myself, Ugh. You know - when I read this stuff, this stuff I write, what goes through my head is what kind of dignity can I actually have left? Do you all wonder that, too? I mean, come ON. I am old. I am fat. I am shrinking, big time. I walk with a major lean to the left. I limp. And I worry about embarrassing myself? Do you think I could actually be any more embarrassed? Apparently so. Good hell.

So,this is enough random for today. Enough complaining, for sure. I hope you all have a great day. Listen to some Bruno Mars, and think of me. I'm outta here.  :)

Monday, June 24, 2013

My orbit

More than two months since I have been here. It's looking a little dusty and unloved, I apologize. Every time I am here, I promise better behavior. I won't do that this time, but know I am thinking it. It isn't like I don't have things I want to say, it's just difficult getting the thoughts converted to words. Never before have I had this problem, but recently, it can't be done easily. I have written several posts but upon editing, I realize that it is all wrong, not what I intended to say at all. I used to be okay with that, recently not so much. Do any of you (any fellow bloggers who haven't given up on me) have the problem of wanting to say one thing, and upon finishing writing, you realize that is not what it says at all? Perhaps it is the medications I have to take, but by now I don't think I can use that excuse anymore. Most of the meds are the same old same old and shouldn't be causing new issues.

Speaking of meds is speaking of my life. I do revolve around the little white pills. I rotate around them like the earth does the sun. I hate it, but it's required for me to live, and I expect it always will be this way. A few weeks ago, I saw my doc and told him the pain meds weren't working the way they used to. Suprisingly, he upped the dosage of the the major one. I was so pleased, he actually listened to me! (I must say here that I was having one of the worst flares of my entire life with these problems, and I could see shock on his face when he saw me walk around the office). My surprise stems from the fact that he is a General Practitioner and is really afraid to be the one prescribing, even though he agreed when my pain doc was put on suspension and eventually arrested, which is another story for another day. However, I couldn't handle the dosage. It was too much, it made me sick, it felt like it about killed me. I was happy to get back to my old amount, and funny how much it helped my pain! Since then,  I have been going through a really good phase - and I am praying it lasts for a long time. The reality is, it won't. Everything comes and goes on me, even the pain can get better. I am using this time to get started on getting back to ME. I am trying to hurry  because I know this is temporary, but my hope is that once I am used to doing it, I can push through the pain and continue. I will never be me until I can walk for an extended period of time, I am small like I have always been, until I can endure and push through it all.

Push through. The story of my life, in just two little words. Those that know me, know - that I will push through a brick wall to make my goal if necessary. I can't lose my "push through". Sometimes I misplace it temporarily, but I can never lose it.

This is a perfect day to stay in my jammies - it's dark and stormy out, I am in major pain, yes a great day for lazy. Even in this condition, I don't have too many lazy days. I work on what needs doing, although I must admit, it's really slow going. I get distracted easily, I move at a snails pace, I compensate for my pain, somehow. But today - I have decided I am taking a lazy day off.

Yesterday, I had a huge breakthrough. I have been outside walking for the past few weeks. (I got the okay from the doc, just in case you're getting ready to yell at me....   :)  and it has been really slow going. But yesterday - I was able to go for 25 minutes! It was raining, and oh-how-I-love- walking in the rain! It was so great, I just cried. I cried for the pain, but I cried because I felt like ME. Just for a very short time, I felt like me. I am trying not to think about how I look when I am doing it. I sort of shuffle, stumble, grunt right along. It feels like I am tearing something in my back with each step, the pain is so intense, but I try so hard to keep on. Yesterday, I could. Praise God.

I have so many things that need doing, and I get overwhelmed when I think of them. I always just know that somehow I will manage. Somehow. This day is for no worries, for happy laziness. So I will share those things with you all in the next posts.

I have a most awesome new grandson - my little Tate. He is beautiful, wonderful, awesome and perfect. Here are a few pics from recent events:

There is also another grandson on the way - he will arrive in about 8 weeks. Excited? Oh yea!

Mark and I celebrated 17 years over the weekend. How can that even be? Impossible - yes. But good, very, very good.  :)

Later, Gaters. I'll be back. I'll always be back.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Another move.

We moved two weeks ago. I just finished unpacking the very last box, just now.

I hate moving. There was a time when I enjoyed putting the new place together, but not anymore. Somehow, this place turned out way better than I expected or put the effort into. I just got lucky. However, there is not one square inch of unused space in the cabinets, the closets, the cupboards, or any other C word that means "stuff your shit in here". This will be a subject for a future blog post, a real rant and tantrum I am working up to.  :)

The physical effort nearly killed me, the pain is up near 13 1/2 on a scale of 1 - 10.I have used more drugs than I am supposed to, so that always leaves me short at the end of the 30 day supply. Either way I suffer, sometimes it's just worth it to do it this way. Ideally, my pain meds would work out just right, the way they are prescribed and are supposed to. But sometimes my pain is so bad, so intense, that suicide sounds like a good idea. I try to steer away from that kind of intensity.

This move was a good idea. Mark and I have not been happy the past year and a half, the last move that I insisted on was the bad idea. So, we are back where we were in 2008. The same building, two floors up, almost the same apartment.This is the place that everyone thought was such high class, such high dollar rent. Yes, it is. But it is still less that the last place, and there - in the suburbs, there was no shopping on the grounds, no restaurants, no bars. Here, at least I can watch other people have fun. There is real life outside my four walls, even if there is no life inside them.

And so that is all. My carpel tunnel left hand is completely numb now, and my carpel tunnel right hand is not as bad but still acting up. I shall "talk" to you all later.

Happy Weekend.  :)  Love and hugs.