tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-346748702024-02-15T04:21:30.147-06:00Everyone thinks I can fix itI have fixed it all for years and years, but now I refuse. I will just go with it, broken or not.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.comBlogger1215125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-28327471661496108522017-06-03T11:31:00.001-05:002017-06-03T11:31:23.612-05:00Ridiculous<br />
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Me - taking so long to get back here and write --- RIDICULOUS!<br />
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I would say "I'm sorry" once again, but none of you would believe me. And I wouldn't blame you for thinking I'm full of it. And so, now comes the excuses: or actually the reasons, because that does sound better and honestly, me not keeping up here hasn't been malicious or planned.<br />
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Things have just been wrong. Really wrong, for quite some time, now.<br />
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My surgery was not successful. I am now in a bit more pain than I was prior to having it. No, there is no reason for that --- just my luck, I guess. It has taken a very long time to heal, this time. I am still not completely solid there, and it has been eleven weeks! But, that area has been cut open many, many times and each time, it takes a bit longer to grow back together.<br />
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My insurance company has made my life a nightmare, in any and every way it can. Just three days prior to this huge surgery, I received a letter stating that they had reversed their prior decision and had now decided <i>NOT</i> to cover the surgery. I had two full days of frantic phone calls, and serious worry, but in the end, they changed their minds one more time and covered it. I had to get everyone but God on the phone, (I had him on the prayer line, tho). It was a miracle that I managed to get them to reverse the decision, I had to get the state Insurance Commissioner involved, and even then, me - getting this awful, awful company to change their minds, a miracle. Seriously. Although so far, I'm feeling no positive effects from having it done. I still have a glimmer of hope - because it hasn't fully healed yet, so I still pray that when it does, there will be less pain. I'm afraid there will be no improvement until <i>ALL</i> the hardware is out of there, and I'm not sure my doctor will do that. He is worried about fracture - his terminology, not mine. So, I see him again in a couple of weeks, I will know more after that.<br />
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My sweet kitty Mason died. This time, I knew it was coming, he was quite sick and had been for a couple of years. It was a blessing and relief, but also it tore me up. I miss him in ways I didn't even know about --- we were a three kitty household at Christmas, now we are down to one kitty. It feels very empty here, even though Mason was never really "around". He kept to himself (unless he could wake me up, THEN he wanted to party). Even at his sickest, he was quiet, and he slept nearly all the time. But when he was awake, he was crying for food. It was constant. We fed him tiny amounts, literally around the clock. But at the very end, he quit eating and was drinking a tiny bit once a day. I had been worried about him just dying when he was here with me alone, but I also didn't want to have to make the decision to have it done. In the end, I knew very well when it was time to have it done. He was in pain, he could hardly get around, he was so weak and stumbly..... it was awful but it was time. I got to say good bye to him - tell him I loved him, one more time..... Even when you know it time and it's right, it's still very hard. Poor Mark, he always has to take care of these things, all by himself. But he always does it, never complains, although it's as hard on him as it is on me. We cried together, like we always do --- and we got on with life. Now, the place just "feels" different. I am surprised how much I miss Meisha --- she was sort of the one that never asked for much, of the three, she was the quiet one, but I realize now that she was the one that made me laugh all the time. That little girl had a funny way about her, and she loved to make us laugh. Even though often you never really knew we had kitties, the loss of their presence feel so huge. I can't really explain it --- it just feel wrong. But I do not want to rush out and replace them. I never meant to have three kitties, you all know how that is, it just happens. As much as I loved them (and I did, oh-so-much) - I'm not ready to rush into the messes that I don'r have right now. One kitty makes a mess - three makes a HUGE mess. And I don't miss that.<br />
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And there is so much more to say --- but I just can't right now. I'll get back here just as soon as I can.<br />
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Take care --<br />
<br />
J.<br />
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<br />Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-47587132330740845662017-03-08T05:50:00.000-06:002017-03-08T05:50:08.303-06:00A quick update---I am still in the hospital, and I have to tell you --- my pain this time is so, SO much worse than ever before. I understand it is because he took out two long rods and the last of the screws.... and then put a smaller rod back in , with one screw at the top and one at the bottom. My Doc said my extra pain is due to all the inflammation kicked up by that. Not to mention - this is the third time he has had to cut from T3 to S1. That's really, really long insicion, and there had to be scar tissue by now. All I know is, all of this equals OMGOSH, OMGOSH, OMGOSH!! I'm barely hanging on. Plus, I'm in such pain, I cannot tell if my original pain in the shoulders problem is gone or not! It hurts there like always, but it also hurts absolutely everywhere else!! If I do still have pain there, be here is NO reason for it, all the screws are gone. Please keep praying for me and keep the fingers crossed!! I'm trying so, so hard to hang on. The pain medications only do so much. I'll keep you posted... with any luck, I can go home tomorrow - Thursday. At this time, it's not all that important, but once this pain is calmer, it sure will be.<br />
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I'm out.<br />
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Thanks for stopping.<br />
<br />
J.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-4048092050397750092017-03-06T21:03:00.000-06:002017-03-06T21:04:02.133-06:00Don't worry-this is Jamie's husbandJamie had surgery today. Is just out of recovery and in god -awful pain. However, all reports from the doctor were positive and hopefully the original issue is better. We will be here for a few days, but Jamie will update you as soon as she can. Thanks so much for stopping by. MarkJamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-76177459634923969152017-02-12T11:10:00.002-06:002017-02-12T11:10:46.654-06:00Just to let you know ---I've honestly not forgotten the promise I made to keep blogging, I've just hit a bit of a rough spot and I am trying to keep on but I'm really struggling. My pain is off the charts, I am blue because of my Kittygirl and many other reasons and I just can't pull it together the way I would like.<br />
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But I will be back here, in just a few days. Also, my oldest son has moved back home temporarily while he moves from one part of the country to another, and his room is the room my desktop computer is in. I could write on my gazillion other devices but oh-how-I-hate to try and use them.I am old and old fashioned and set in my ways, I guess --- I like my keyboard!<br />
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And one more thing --- my surgery date is March 6. I was hoping it would be a quick in and out like the majority of them have been but because he plans on taking out as much instrumentation as possible, it will be a top to bottom bru-ha-ha once again. Oh Joy! ugh...<br />
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Also --- (see how quickly my short little posts turn into long affairs?), but also --- please forgive my lack of presence on your pages, I am just not keeping up with anything, other than the medications every few hours --- that is one thing I never forget. I long for the times in my life when I was not ruled by the drugs. This way of life is hell.<br />
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I'll be back, and soon. I swear.<br />
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I'm out.<br />
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J.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-72370325916307416712017-02-03T13:55:00.002-06:002017-02-03T13:55:28.007-06:00Meisha --- March 1, 2005 --- January 30, 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It' so difficult to get good pictures of a black cat --- the dark, shiny coat just takes over. But, these random shots of my Kitty Girl Meisha are a few good ones. I miss her every day, think of her most of the time so far, but I am getting better. Time is the only thing that helps, and I don't forget but the memories become the good ones, the one's that make me laugh --- and there were many of those. Meisha was a funny, funny girl.</div>
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I miss you my little beauty. You are gone from me physically but never, ever forgotten.</div>
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Love.</div>
Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-67055136860014768422017-01-30T06:56:00.004-06:002017-01-30T06:56:46.982-06:00My beautifulKitty Girl Meisha died this morning.<br />
<br />
MY HEART IS BREAKING.<br />
<br />
I'm out.<br />
<br />
<br />Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-36901743054080001682017-01-29T15:01:00.002-06:002017-01-29T15:01:48.884-06:00Things here have quickly..turned to S H I T.<br />
<br />
Yes, my pain is overwhelming --- but even bigger than that, I have gone from having one critical, dying cat to having two --- and one with a disease that I just now found out about.<br />
<br />
I am spending my time trying to get Meisha, my only kitty girl, to eat, drink or take her medications, and we are having nearly zero luck. Meisha is dying, at least so far. Let me back up just a bit and quickly because writing about this is a difficult as talking about it and all I have done since Friday is cry --- the two younger kitties, Mesiha and Tonka, went in for their annual immunizations on Thursday morning. Tonka came back with a diagnosis of Diabetic --- he had lost several pounds and although it didn't hurt him to lose the weight, I knew that something was clearly wrong. Diabetes did not enter my head though, and I felt so stupid because I know the symptoms of it, I know them well. My little sister is diabetic, has been most of her life. So, that blew me away --- and although it seems that he will be okay as long as we give him two shots of insulin each day, I honestly was not prepared for it, and I am sad about it. I do believe it will limit his life span and also his quality of life.So, I was in a funk about that, as well as the fact the the old cat --- Mason --- has been steadily getting worse and I know his days are limited. Yes, he is dying of kidney disease, but he is old and the vet clearly said that we have done everything possible, and that our good care has probably added a year or two to his life. I am sad about him, and I feel anxious about it too _ each morning I am afraid of finding him no longer alive. So.... Thursday evening, I noticed that Meisha was very quiet, not moving much -- you all know how it is when you pick up on something being wrong with your pets --- you just know. Mark said I was imagining things and made me feel very much like I was over reacting but by Friday I <i>knew </i>something was wrong and it wasn't any little reaction to the immunizations like the vet said over the phone. On Saturday morning, very, very early --- Mark left with Meisha in tow, making the two hour trip back to southern Iowa where the vets that we know and love and have used for more than 20 years, beginning when we lived down there. Most likely diagnois --- IMHA. Supposedly very rare in cats, but take a look on the internet at how many people have lost their kitties to it -- and all of them had it triggered by immunizations. I was shocked. And apparently, there is little that can be done, we are giving her steroids and antibiotics, but honestly --- if she doesn't pee within the next few hours, I don't see how she can go on. I love that little girl, she has always been the quiet one, the no-trouble causer, kind of like the middle child. This is killing me.<br />
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Talk about perspective ---- a week ago, Mason was the sickliest cat I could imagine. After watching that little bag of bones jump from the bed to the chair this morning, I realized he is the healthiest kitty in the house. Perspective.<br />
<br />
Blenheim.<br />
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Pray for my kitties --- all of them, and me, because I am so bad at taking care of what needs taking care of..... even though I know that fighting with her to get the medication down her throat is because of wanting to help her --- I feel so bad because she doesn't understand...<br />
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I'm out.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-18600955330897559902017-01-18T19:38:00.001-06:002017-01-18T19:38:55.819-06:00Because I promised,actually even UN-RESOLUTIONED, I must write something here now, because I am coming up on a week since last said anything here. The truth of the matter is, I have had a really rough week. Rough as in, P A I N.<br />
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Unrelenting, crazy-making, GODPLEASEMAKEITGOAWAY kind of pain. And He hasn't. (Made it go away, that is). I cannot say why it has been so much worse - I used to try and analyze every move, every little thing I did to see if I could establish a pattern, find a cause, just make some kind of sense of why I hurt so bad. Then I realized that it was a stupid, futile thing to do. There is no reason why, and other than understanding that the more physical I am with my back, the more pain I have, Other than that, there is no sense to be made of it.<br />
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I won't go into the dreaded details of all this crap --- Geez, who wants to hear (read) about someone else's aches and pain -- but suffice it to say, I have made calls to doctors, and I NEVER make calls to anyone, especially doctors. I hate doctors, and I have good, even great doctors and I never call them, other than when I have to call, see or otherwise dink around with them, which is way more often than I like. But, I made calls to doctors. And waited for calls to be made back to me. And they were.<br />
<br />
And my surgery date has been moved up, Significantly. Before, I had a date in April to see my surgeon again, to have another CT scan, to set a surgery date at that time. Which would have been at least six weeks from that time. Now, I am waiting for my surgeon's office staff to get yet another surgery cleared and okay'd by my insurance company and then the date can be set. With any luck, the end of February - or the first part of March. However, my insurance company, who would much rather see me dead than alive, is making my life a living hell and causing much, MUCH longer waiting times than necessary (as I said, if they dick around long enough, I could blow my own brains out, thereby ending the need to pay out yet again, for surgery)... and btw --- that's my idea of what they are thinking, not anything like what I'm thinking or planning or anything of the sort. But, anything they can do to make my life worse, they are doing it. So,the surgery date is up to them and I'm praying it's soon. I have been in pain for years and years and years.But, nothing like I am experiencing now. You really do get to a point where you think about which is easier, living this way or giving up and dying. NO, I'm not suicidal at all, but anyone in my shoes would have these thoughts. So far, I think of my kids and grand kids and that's enough for me. But I can see where a person could get caught up in thinking the other way. Pain will wear you down and make you old and literally take the light right out of your life. Even the strongest of the strong. And I am one of those, the strong, I mean. But it's taking it's toll. Yes, I have pain medications. Yes, I go through hell each and every month, seeing my pain doctor, fighting with the insurance company, taking the medications that I hate so very much, and depend on even more - because I could NOT make it without them. I have tried. I have gone off of them to prove I can, and I have proven that I can't. I am dependent with a capital D. But that is due to pain. I do not have a drug problem. I have a pain problem. I am so tired of the stigma that goes along with the super heavy duty pain drugs. Every person I encounter, every person my husband encounters (because he is the one that picks them up for me), treats us as though we were the scum of the very earth. And I am talking about the pharmacists, the clerks the nurses that work with and for the doctors, just in general --- I am thought of as a junkie. And one day, when I no longer have to depend on the heavy duty drugs to survive, I am going to do something about it. I am going to get my point across to a few certain people one day. And while I really have never wished bad things on anyone, I have a hard time NOT wishing for painful things to happen to certain individuals, because folks will never, ever learn until they are in my shoes. And enough. I am sorry to have gotten off on this little rant.<br />
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Again, I've had a rough few days. If you are one who prays, please throw a couple of sentences to the man upstairs my way --- I can use all the help I can get.<br />
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I apologize for the content of this post, it certainly is NOT any fun or even interesting to read. But when I committed to writing here once a week, I never said anything about writing something worth reading. LOL.<br />
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Big Hugs, y'all. I'm out.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-1742582061865434872017-01-12T15:00:00.000-06:002017-01-12T15:00:03.263-06:00Random -- Really.Really RandomIt's cold in this place today, although I haven't moved the thermostat in ages, so it's the same 67 degrees that it always is. (Yes, I know that is cool but you take the meds I take and let's talk temperature).<br />
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Actually, living on the top floor of this concrete building, not much energy is used to keep this place running along at that temperature -- in the winter,it has to be very cold outside to cause the furnace to kick on. I mean really cold, like near zero and high winds.... otherwise, the apartments below us pretty much heat our place. However, it is a way different story in the summer months, lol..<br />
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My daughter and her four kiddoes were here all morning --- oh my gosh, I worship those kids. They are my heart all over again, just like my own kids were. It's amazing how wonderful having grandkids is. Seriously.<br />
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On Wednesdays, I keep my son's oldest boy -- Wrigley. (Yes, his parents are DIE HARD CUBS FANS) (Their youngest, the four month old, is named Maddux, so yeah, BIG CUB FANS.) But anyway -- I have the three year old, Wrigs, each Wednesday, and while it tears me up pain-wise, I wouldn't give that day up for anything. He and I have such fun --- and it gets better each week. Yes, God has blessed me with such joyous grand children.<br />
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My Bone Growth Stimulaor has finally been approved by my AWFUL, AWFUL insurance company, so I should be getting it soon. I am NOT looking forward to using it at all, but if it will help me, bring it on. I have had enough of the waiting.<br />
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My heart is heavy today and I am trying not to think about the news my daughter gave me today -- they will be leaving for North Dakota in the next couple of weeks - her husband's job keeps them traveling and up to now, it has only been in-state. I knew, of course, that they would have to leave someday --- somewhere further away but I have avoided thinking seriously about that. Now I am faced with the reality and it's all I can do not to cry. Yes, I will miss my daughter, we have become very close these past few years. But OMGosh, losing those kids will honestly kill me. Again, I knew. They bought a semi-sized camper and a one ton truck just for this purpose. She pulled the oldest boys out of school two years ago and homeschools them for this purpose. But my heart feels like it's all new news and I think I may have a panic attack. Good heavens, Jamie, get a grip!<br />
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My kitties are driving me up the wall, daily. We have three. They are beautiful, spoiled rotten kitties. They create mess after mess after mess. If I didn't have kitties, I would have about 80% less housework to do. But, since I cannot tolerate cat hair, it's daily sweeping, very frequent vacuuming. de-hairing the blankets, furniture, etc.... all the effing time. Tonka and Meisha are fat cats that are happy, playful and loving. Mason, who is 17 in a couple of weeks, has very quickly become quite ill and there is nothing that can be done for him. A few years ago, the vet told us that his kidneys were failing and with time, it would cause his demise. We put him on the kidney diet then and he's lived way longer than the vet indicated was normal for his troubles. But the end is near -- the poor baby has always weighed 13 pounds, he now weighs just over 8. He is nothing but bones, can eat about a tbsp of food at a time, sleeps for hours and wakes to eat another tablespoon. We feed him all day and all night, whenever he cries for food and it is often and around the clock. I am very grateful that I have such a wonderful husband that loves them as much as I do -- he gets up with Mason as much if not more than I and feeds him. I feel very sure that one day soon Mason will lay down to sleep and not wake again. I dread it but also want it to happen before we have to make that decision. He is not in pain yet but I can tell that he is often cold --- and it looks like his old skinny bones just might hurt, he will only lay in the softest of areas in the house, and I cover him most of the time. I love having pets --- both cats and dogs but I am so tired of losing them. I know it's a part of it, but the heartache gets worse as I age and I just can't take it anymore.<br />
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Enough. Time for pain meds, time for rest.<br />
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Peace. Out.<br />
<br />
J.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-27781659732371016932017-01-09T18:10:00.000-06:002017-01-09T18:10:59.757-06:00Wow---I was just reading back on several of my older posts ----<br />
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I used to write alot. I am ashamed of the way that I just let it go. However, there are circumstances that helped me to do that, I didn't just get up one day and think "I quit". But that is essentially how it turned out in the end. I hate that.<br />
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This month, is the FIVE YEAR ANNIVERSARY of me NOT WORKING. I STILL HATE IT. I STILL DREAM OF THE DAY I CAN GO BACK TO WORK. I realize that each year that becomes a bit more unlikely, but still I pray and dream to do just that. Funny how this life of mine has turned out. Not really funny - actually pretty sad. I loved my work - I loved the place that I worked, I actually enjoyed <i>doing </i>the job. (Most of the time - I wasn't a nerd, there were days I would have gladly given it away, but I knew every second that I was complaining about it, I<i> knew</i> that I was blessed to have it, and that I loved it.) And while there certainly is no plan, no place - and absolutely no job, I still pray that I can have it all back again. Yes, I know I'm getting old - but I think I still have some good years left in me, if they can just get the damned pain in my upper back under control. That sounds so easy --- and the truth it, they know exactly how to do that --- once the fusion that has now been there for more than two years would just "take". All it is, is a matter of removing about nine screws. Again, that sounds so easy. My surgeon has been in there to do just that five times now. And five times I have been closed up - with various other screws removed, but the particular ones that I need taken out cannot be just yet, because my bones have not grown back together the way that they should have. I have been in this particular hell since October of 2014 --- when I had the first HUGE surgery that was supposed to fix me and allow me to get most, if not all of my life back. After a surgery that was more than 18 hours in length, and literally took out many, many of the discs in my spine, and put in TWO titanium rods the length of my entire back, along with 67 screws, after all of that particular hell --- and omgosh, it was hell -- I woke up crying about the unbelievable pain in my upper shoulders. A place that I had never felt pain before. In the midst of all the stitches, the tubes, the hardware, and the horror of it all --- the thing that I could not tolerate was the pain in my shoulders. And I cannot tolerate it yet. It has not changed, other than to increase. It is unrelenting, it is sharp, it is dull, it is an electric-type pain like hitting your funny bone -- it is a vice-like pain, like being squeezed every second of every day --- it is unbearable. And yet, I bear it. Somehow. With the help of several (but not nearly enough) pain medications. I cry, I carry on (inside), I suffer. I think about dying --- but not about killing myself. I often think that it would be so much easier for me. But then I remember that my kids are not ready for that, just yet. So, I tell God one more time that I know it's not yet my time and to please, somehow -- help me to carry on this way.<br />
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At this time, we are waiting for April --- to see my surgeon again, and determine if things have improved, so he can try again. I am doing everything possible for that to happen. I am waiting on a Bone Growth Stimulator to arrive --- no, I don't have any idea what it really is, I only know that some have had luck with them. It's an electronic device that is hooked up to the area with electrodes for a certain period of time each day. I had never even heard of one until my last appointment with the doctor. Waiting now for insurance bs -- as usual. So, hopefully that will help. I have always been told by my doctors that smoking inhibits bones fusing, that goes way back ten years when I had neck surgery and that doctor told me that he wouldn't help me if I didn't quit. (I didn't quit back then and my neck fused just fine). I did quit this time, however. Finally -- after decades and decades of smoking, I am smoke free. It was a year in August. And hopefully, that will help my bones to grow back together. I will tell you sometime how I did manage to quit -- it was mostly due to an old blogging friend I used to have, Brenda at Soul Survivor. It was something she said to me a few years ago that worked.... but I don't think she is a friend anymore. I'm not sure of what I've done but apparently it was something. My memory these past few years has not been good for various reasons, another thing I will explain someday.<br />
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So, anyway --- my point is, my damned back SHOULD be growing together. I have just about had it, with pain, with this life, with all of it --- and it is time. Whatever lesson I should be learning, surely it is firmly in place and fully learned. IT IS TIME I'M FIXED.<br />
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Over and Out.<br />
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Hugs, y'all.<br />
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J.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-85648714842213040412017-01-06T15:31:00.000-06:002017-01-06T15:31:23.393-06:00It's happened again -Another shooting. Another day of senseless killing. Another day of television programming live from the location where minutes and hours before, random people have died for no apparent reason,<br />
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I am of average intelligence -- maybe even slightly above -- and I don't understand.<br />
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What happens to people that they get out of bed one day, after generally having put considerable thought and planning into it, they drive to a certain location and they start shooting, killing as many people as possible in a short few minute? What gets into a person that this looks like a good idea? How can a human being bring about such violence, such ugliness, such vile thinking that actually hurting and killing a living thing can be done? Am I missing something?<br />
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I couldn't even hurt an animal - of any kind. I could, I suppose, if I or one of mine were in danger... but even then, I have wondered if I actually could. Now - a person, a person that I do not know that is an immediate threat to one of my kids or grand kids, I guess I could hurt them, or even kill them. I've often wondered why I have felt more compassion for animals than I have felt for humans - say on tv, in a crime story or something like that. I always cry when an animal is hurt - on any show, even on a stupid Disney movie, when you know darned well that the ending will be happy, I still cry when animals are hurt or killed. I never cry when a person is hurt or murdered on a tv show or movie -(what does that say about me?).<br />
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Luckily, I have never had to test my theory about hurting another that is trying to harm me or mine - or an animal that is wanting to do harm. I just hasn't happened. And so, we are always told we don't know how we would react. I'm sure there is truth in that. But I am not a violent person - even if I am hurt, I have no feelings of inflicting hurt on another, at least when it comes to emotional pain and hurt. I've never dealt with any kind of physical pain against myself - other than a spanking or two when I was very young. So, I guess I don't know how I would react.<br />
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So, I CANNOT understand why people do what has happened today at the airport in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. And countless other locations recently. I watch the news reports and cry - literally - for those who don't make it, but more do for the families of those who don't or those who lived through such horror and are forced to live with it afterwards. I am smart enough to know that often those that commit these horrendous crimes have had awful, painful, violent lives - and I suppose that kind of living situation can make the brain go haywire. But many, many people have had unbelievably horrible beginnings and they do not "get even" or react this way. So, I really don't get it. I do know that the older I get, the more these things hurt me. The more I can feel the pain of those who do have to endure these events. The more disturbed I am. And the more useless I feel in the face of it. Nothing can be done - nothing can help, there is nothing I can do.<br />
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I have always believed that the only hope in changing this changing world - the only hope in making the thinking of this collective world more loving, less "me" and more "us" - is God. And, raising children that know nothing but love, nothing but security, nothing but solid thinking, reasoning, and turning the other cheek. So, I have done that. And I am helping to do that with my Grand kids. Beyond that --- I am completely helpless. A feeling that I hate, and find myself feeling more often each year.<br />
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So --- I'm doing the only thing I can think of. I'm praying for those involved. It feels so inconsequential.<br />
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I hope you all are having good days-<br />
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Back soon. :)<br />
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J.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-4984226046165014992017-01-02T13:55:00.000-06:002017-01-02T13:55:16.521-06:00I HATE RESOLUTIONSI hate RESOLUTIONS.<br />
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And so, here it is the second day of a brand new year. 2017. Holy crap, how can that even be? Time is no longer your friend after the age of 40, or so it has seemed in my world. Forty was so long ago I can't even see it. But enough about my age. I sound like my mother used to - like my<i> grandmother used to --- </i>Good hell,<br />
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So, as I was saying - I hate resolutions although I think many/most of us go through a mental list of things we'd like to change or at least see differently at the beginning of any new year. In that spirit, I will give you my 2017 NON-RESOLUTION.<br />
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<b>I am going to write here, at least once a week, through out this new year.</b><br />
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Yeah -- so what do you think of that? A very, very tall order for someone like me. A very clear statement that will be super easy for anyone to see whether or not I have kept up with this promise. I may be able to -- I certainly want to. The reality though, is always the hard part. I am so often sick - I mean really, really unable to do anything. Physical pain has become my whole world. I want so much for that to be different, that I have begun forcing myself to do many things that I have been unable to do for the past years, and I have learned that it hasn't killed me. I am probably the strongest bitch you ever want to meet - even still, when I say forcing myself, omgosh I wish I could tell you what that entails. There just is no way to explain the sheer will it takes to just get up an DO when my pain is at it's usual level of 12.5 on a scale of one to ten. I honestly can make myself do many things but when my pain is that bad, being nice is never one of them. I also am not mean or nasty, I am just non-communicative. Ask me a question at that time and expect a grunt in reply. I can do many things but behave in a pleasant way at that time is not possible. So, making myself sit here at this desktop computer and write the honest truth in a manner that won't completely alienate every person that is wonderful enough to stop here and read could be asking for the impossible. But I intend to try,<br />
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Having said that, I need to clear up a few things. I honestly know I've been gone too long to expect the same wonderful readers that I used to have, I don even think the majority of those people still get on here and read anyone. If any of them still do, I am aware that they gave up on me a long time ago, and with good reason. I am also aware that to have readers, I also have to read the blogs of those that read me, and I am also promising to do my best at that, as well. I want so badly to have something that matters in my life again -- and yes, I know that writing a blog is not exactly rocket science or a life and death sort of issue, but it does matter to me. I have isolated myself in my pain. It has not been a conscious decision but it has happened, nonetheless. Also too, I want to try to be honest here. That, I have found, is really the hardest part about writing. Honesty is essential in life-even in something as small and inconsequential as this little blog. I sounds so easy to say, certainly very easy to type- HONESTY - but, oh-so-difficult to actually manage. There are things in my life that I have chosen not to say here, throughout all the years that I did write here. Many of them were small little unimportant details that really didn't matter, When they were added up though, I often felt like I was not just not being honest, but that maybe I was being DISHONEST, and there really is a difference. So, I will try. I also have to recognize that often my lack of honesty is purely because some things are not mine to tell. In those cases, I will choose to not to say those things.<br />
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Bear with me, my maybe one or two readers here - all of this will take some learning and re-learning. Also, some plain old sheer willpower and guts. A couple of things that I find I still have.<br />
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So, look for me. I will be here. I may not have pretty things to say - I may not have ANYTHING to say, but I will report just that.<br />
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Much love and big hugs --<br />
<br />
J.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-91978247373638231712016-10-13T13:43:00.000-05:002016-10-13T13:45:00.568-05:00Just another day in October---<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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?<br />
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If I have any readers, thank you. Have a great day --- big hugs.<br />
<br />
JamieJamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-84576499438485397082014-07-05T10:39:00.001-05:002014-07-05T10:39:58.640-05:00He knows not what he sings....<div>
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"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)<div>
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I call bullshit.</div>
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Am I really supposed to believe that he doesn't have regrets? That you all don't have regrets?</div>
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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?</div>
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To live a life with regret says that you have lived a life. I am not sorry about that. </div>
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So, shut up Frank. You don't know what you're talking about.</div>
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Later.</div>
Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-10227661111939777532014-05-12T14:19:00.001-05:002014-05-12T18:24:17.723-05:00The Best DayI had the best Mother's Day in a really, really long time.<br />
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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.<br />
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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...<br />
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Anyway ---<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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My Mark got me flowers and a great card. I got cards from all of my kids --- I'm telling you, I just cried.<br />
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These are pics that both of my kids brought to me, just because.<br />
Aren't my g'kids awesome?<br />
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These are random pics from through out the day:<br />
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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.<br />
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I really am not bragging, but this day was so perfect. You know, we don't get too many of those, right?<br />
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I'm out. :)Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-36151613060880687142014-05-04T10:24:00.001-05:002014-05-04T10:24:19.278-05:00Still crazy, after all these yearsAs 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 <i>this thing</i>, then I won't have either energy or ability to do <i>that</i>. 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.<br />
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One really<b> huge - good</b> 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<a href="http://whotv.com/2014/05/01/baldi-trial-not-guilty-on-all-charges/" target="_blank"> here</a>. 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.<br />
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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. :)<br />
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Much love and big hugs. I'm out.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-76510998178939228152014-04-25T11:10:00.002-05:002014-04-25T11:10:56.845-05:00An un-posted post, from 2011<div>
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. :)<br />
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<i>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. </i></div>
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<i>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><br />
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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. :)</div>
Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-32259453410911827022014-04-22T21:32:00.002-05:002014-04-22T21:32:21.780-05:00Wow 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. XoJamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-7928339399257487712014-04-22T11:56:00.001-05:002014-04-22T11:56:47.114-05:00It's been so long,will anyone remember who I am?<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-42043185119099559942013-07-19T09:11:00.001-05:002013-07-19T09:11:14.482-05:00If the third time is so effing charming, am I to assume that one and two sucked you know what?"<i>THIS</i> 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 <i>count</i> 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?<br />
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It's Friday again. Damn if they don't just keep coming around...<br />
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I am listening to Bruno Mars, Let It Rain. Love it, Love it.<br />
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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 <b>real </b>and <b>true </b>WTF, people.<br />
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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.<br />
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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. :)<br />
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<br />Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-28889143685462230642013-06-24T14:05:00.001-05:002013-06-24T14:05:48.728-05:00My orbitMore 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.<br />
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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 <i>ME. </i>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.</div>
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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.</div>
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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.</div>
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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 <i>ME</i>. 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.</div>
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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.<br />
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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:<br />
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There is also another grandson on the way - he will arrive in about 8 weeks. Excited? Oh yea!<br />
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Mark and I celebrated 17 years over the weekend. How can that even be? Impossible - yes. But good, very, very good. :)<br />
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Later, Gaters. I'll be back. I'll always be back.</div>
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Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-50909798041950682302013-04-13T16:29:00.000-05:002013-04-13T16:29:44.375-05:00Another move.We moved two weeks ago. I just finished unpacking the very last box, just now.<br />
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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. :)<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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Happy Weekend. :) Love and hugs.<br />
<br />Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-40400302894227711042013-04-03T07:53:00.000-05:002013-04-03T07:53:24.532-05:00Remember me?I've been away for so long, you all probably don't remember who I am. If you do have a fragment or sliver of a memory of me, then I will have to tell you that I am not the person you all know anymore. Changing has not been what I wanted, it has been completely out of my control. I don't look the same, I don't think the same way, and I surely don't FEEL like I used to. I have turned into a person I don't know, feeling things that are totally new, wondering where the person I used to has gone.It's funny - I think most of us are often not impressed with the person they are, always wanting more... I know I didn't appreciate who I was, always thinking that I could do better, be better, certainly look better. I took so many things for granted...and we never know that until we have lost it.<br />
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The most upsetting (horrifying) thing for me has been the physical changes. The parts the whole world can see. I know that this sounds really superficial, but really it isn't. Most of us define who we are by what we do, how we look, and the feelings that we have for ourselves and for others. Well now physically for me --- I look awful. Seriously. I see someone else in my mirror, actually asking the one staring back at me to bring back the old version. I tell him ( my mirror is a man) that I can't continue this physical downward spiral... he never reply's but sometimes I wonder if he laughs at me. :) Heaven knows I would laugh at me, too.<br />
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I am now good at doing nothing. There is nothing left to define myself by what I do, since I literally do nothing. If anyone counts reading, or staring into space a definitive career or even a quality, then I will be at the top of my game. I miss my job. I miss leaving each morning and being <i>so happy </i>to return at night. I spent so many years being irritated that I had to interact and talk to others. I have always been a loner, wanting to be left alone in so many situations. So now, I have my wish. I want to publicly state for the record that being alone blows. Yes, I have a husband, he leaves early each morning and returns late in the evenings. I thank God for him each day. I feel sorry for anyone who has to deal with this new me on a regular basis.Yes, I have grown kids but the truth is, it's hard for me to even let them see me. I cannot avoid it all the time, and I know it's wrong to feel this way, but I am actually ashamed of myself and I don't want them to know that, either. I am well aware that none of the changes in me are my fault, and there is nothing I can do about it. That doesn't make it any better for me, certainly I would work hard to get back to the old me if there was even a tiny chance. I can barely walk, I limp and hobble and I am bent over to the left side, sometimes nearly in half. I have gained so many pounds, due to medications and lymphedema and pop tarts. Doctors tell me it's no big deal, it's not my fault, but those that know me well know that I'd rather be dead than fat. I don't even look normally fat, it's all in the middle, showing up there overnight. Literally. You've no idea what it's like to go to bed a small, normal size and wake up looking seven and half months pregnant.<br />
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Surgeries are in my future. My spine has moved (?) three inches to the right, which is impossible,and oh so painful, just ask any doctor. The only cure for that is extensive surgery. Screws and plates and cages are involved. I don't know when yet and I don't know how, but I do know that I am not going to walk bent to the left forever. No - spines don't move. Unless you have had a spinal stimulator put in your body with (leads) wrapped all around your spinal column. That is my theory, not the doctors. But spines don't just move for no reason. You know I did all the research on this damned stimulator before I had it put in. I didn't want in the first place but my doc was sure it would help the pain. It did help for quite a while, until I developed lympedema, and then I couldn't take it, not when my left leg swelled up to the size of a hundred year oak tree. The doc did say that the leads were causing the swelling problem, people don't just develop lymphedema. Those that are fighting cancer can get it, but it is a secondary problem. I have it as a main problem. It causes giant swelling in my leg and abdomen. So there is the reason that I look like I am having a baby. Just for the record, I want to say this never happens. You don't just develop this problem. Of course, there is no cure. Just a series of compression garments and manual stimulation to release the water. No thank you. There is one certified physical therapist that can do that here, she is part of the cancer center downtown. I have resisted this treatment so far, it just sounds too far out to even imagine. Obviously, I went to the one remaining doc at my old pain clinic and we discussed having the stimulator removed. Makes sense, right? Sure he will take the little box in my lower hip out. But the leads --- the things causing my problems? No, they stay in forever. They wrap themselves all around the spinal cord and trying to take them out is way too risky. Dangerous, even. In all my research, no one ever once mentioned that. I asked about having it removed if it didn't work the way they said, they told me sure it can be taken out. But not the wires. They neglected to ever say that. And I was too stupid to ask.<br />
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Enough for now. I know this is awful to read, and I certainly understand if you can't make it through. I just wanted you all to know why I am not around. I am sad, I am sick and I am fed up.<br />
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I do think about all of you and plan to one day get back here like normal. I love and miss you, my friends. :)Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-86636241292161092782013-02-08T13:25:00.001-06:002013-02-08T13:25:49.112-06:00Again --- a Friday!They just keep right on rolling along, don't they? The days of the week I mean, particularly Friday's. I blink - it's Monday, blink again, there is Friday staring me right in the face, one more time. I must say that it beats the alternative all to hell, but occasionally, I would like to see time slow down. I know that's not going to happen, but I often wish it would.<br />
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So, what's happening here, in my world? More doctors, more worries, more pain, more concern. New issues seem to be cropping up lately, none of them good. My spine has moved. Seriously -- it's almost three inches to the right, no where near the middle. No, I do not have scoliosis, I never have. I have always had a perfectly straight spine, right up the middle of my back, right where it belongs. The current condition of it is baffling my doctors, as usual, because nothing I have to deal with medically is normal. So, I have more tests and ex-rays and bullshit coming up on the 20th. To say I am sick of this crap is hardly descriptive enough. I am nearing a meltdown. Every effing time I see a doc, there is a new problem, Every time. This new spine issue leaves me wondering so many things, but mostly I want to know, how in the hell can that happen? Doesn't something have to be broken or some damned thing for that to happen? Gah. Blenheim. Ugh.<br />
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Enough. Enough of that.<br />
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My lovely daughter had a birthday yesterday. We were at her place last evening, it was great to see my little fella's. They are so much fun to be with. The things that come out of their mouths always, ALWAYS make me laugh. They so obviously have fun --- and when Pa Pa comes to visit, well he's almost as good as Santa Claus. :)<br />
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Today, I must really try to get a few things accomplished. I can tell my week has been very hard on me, this place of mine is quite the sty. My kitchen is a mess with dishes literally sitting on the counters, laundry piled pretty high in that little room. Kitty litter...oh my the kitty litter. One thing I cannot do is run the vacuum so that part must be handled by Mark this weekend. Oh the joy --- I get to clean if I can remain upright!<br />
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Even though I covered this in a comment on my last post, I want to say thank you ever so much to you all that read here. I have the very best friends. You try so hard to lift me up -- and that's no minor task in these days of fatty mcbutterpants. You seem to understand my whining and crying and I love you so much for that.<br />
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Please have the best Friday ever. I'm out. :)Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34674870.post-16869840158176183762013-01-25T17:44:00.001-06:002013-01-25T17:44:27.378-06:00Friday . When I was a working woman, I loved Friday's SO much. They always meant so much to me, a long, hard week nearly over, many things accomplished so I could take it a little easy on Friday. Usually had lunch brought in from somewhere on Friday's and that was special, too. The other days I ate something brought from home, usually canned soup. Friday meant that I could dress more casually than the other days, not that I dressed up every day by any means. But I would wear my t-shirts with the company logo, or the polo shirts that were provided. And jeans... definitely jeans. I miss the feeling of Friday alot. Yes, I know that every day should or could feel like Friday now, but they don't. I miss working so much, more than I can explain. I miss being a part of something, I miss the people that I worked with, I miss the car business --- it is such a fun business. Never a dull moment, always something strange or funny happening. :)<br />
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But today is Friday in my new world. Usually Mark brings something home for dinner -- so that is my new perk for Friday. Yea --- I made it through another week of nothing. Of hurting. Of pain. Yea!!!<br />
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I'm out.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18085622205448586156noreply@blogger.com7