I have some issues with various dates in my life. For instance, I get a general feeling of overwhelming sadness in January because that is the month that my grandfather died. But it is also the month I gave birth to my oldest son and my husband's birthday in on the 13th of that month. So, for the most part, January balances out pretty well.
Not so with other months. And unfortunately, these tie directly into January too. For the last 30 years, from mid-August to mid-September, I have experienced a feeling of great loss. For years I couldn't put my finger on it. There were so many reasons why - everything from the end of Summer to the end of a marriage - all fought for my attention - were THEY the reasons for the loss?
It was only about ten years ago that I began to put the pieces together and with the puzzle now complete, I can only grieve at my loss and the supidity that caused it.
As I read the words I wrote five days ago, I have to pause for just a moment. So many things have happened in the last five days that I can't even begin to list them. So I won't. But I will tell you that the sadness I feel at this time every year is because of the great loss of my firstborn child. I was 16, almost 17 and at the time, I felt I had no choice but to terminate my unwanted pregnancy. But my baby WAS wanted, at least in my heart. Unfortunately, the logic that is my curse won out and allowed me to make the biggest mistake I will ever make - seeking an abortion.
You have read my past blogs and know that I have two sons and four grandchildren - all of whom I love dearly. But the child I so selfishly threw away would have been 30 this month. My friend Mary once asked me if I knew what my baby was. I hesitated for a moment - then she said, "what does your gut tell you?" My gut has always told me that my unborn child was a girl - the daughter I always wanted. She then asked me if I had ever given her a name. At the time, I told her no, but while talking with my husband about the conversation I told him that there had always been a name hanging in the air - one I had never used or even thought of using for my kids when I was pregnant and we were picking out names. But this name had always been there - Diana Lyn. Funny it is a reverse of my own name - Linda Diane. But it is a name I always liked and if I had to guess, it would have been her name.
I cannot go back in time and undo what I did. Living with it has been my own private hell. You think at the time that it doesn't matter. You make all sorts of excuses and you invent all sorts of explanations but it all boils down to being selfish. As much as I hate to admit it, that's what it was for me. I didn't want to give up my dreams and I certainly didn't want to hear the words "I told you so" uttered by my family and friends.
This blog is a bit disjointed I know but I still have difficulty sifting though the rubble that is that portion of my life. Little by little, each year, it gets clearer and more focused. This year brings the greatest clarity and for that I have to thank Mary.
In closing I have to say that abortion is still that most secret of sins amongst God's people. I was a strong Christian teenager before I terminated the life of my child and I floundered for years afterward with no one to turn to. Mary has taken this most secret of sins and given it a voice in her ministry In Our Midst. Please take a few minutes and visit her site.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Monday, September 11, 2006
Where Were You on 9/11?
Five years ago I wasn't a grandmother - I was a newly enrolled college student and mother of a soldier. My son, Ricky, was a member of the 82nd Airborne. It had always been his goal to be a part of the military and well, getting paid to jump out of airplanes and blow things up is every boy's dream come true. Me? Not so much - but I support him.
Ricky had joined the military in a time a relative peace in the world. But five years ago, as I huddled around a computer screen with my classmates, I knew the implications and I dreaded them. The sight of those planes crashing into the World Trade Center brought a chill to my bones and made my heart skip a beat. After the Rangers, Airborne were first in. My son was going to be a floating target.
As I mentioned once before, Ricky didn't go overseas. A jump accident prevented him from going and the frustration in his voice was not pleasant to hear. All his buddies were there while he stayed on the base and fueled aircraft. He had joined the Army to support our country and instead he was stuck in the barracks, unable to do what he had trained to do.
And now for my confession: I was glad and ashamed of it. I had come from a military family, I had uncles who fought in Vietnam and a father who had served on a ship during the Korean War - I had a grandfather who had lived through two World Wars and had tried to enlist both times(too young to enlist in the first, too old in the second). I, myself, had served in the Navy until it became apparent that a birth defect in my knees would not allow me to stay and serve my country. What kind of coward was I?
The worst kind I'm afraid - a mother protecting her son. Not so much a coward but the nurturing part of me won out over the patriotic side. And it made me ashamed to call myself an American. Me, who develops tears at the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner and who proudly led and said the Pledge of Allegiance all through grammar school, high school and college. I suddenly felt like Peter, who, when it came time to stand up for Christ, denied him, not once but three times.
Having my son get hurt while jumping from an airplane seemed to be my worst nightmare - yet it was that incident that kept him at home. I am still ashamed of my reaction to the fact that he remained at home but I know my son - as a Christian - he takes the "lay down my life for my brother" seriously and his natural instinct would have been to step into the line of fire to save another. Ricky knew he was ready to meet his Maker and he would have done so with open arms.
During the years after 9/11, a flag hung on the front of our house 24 hours a day, properly lit of course, as a reminder that we had a son who was serving our country in whatever capacity and who was dearly missed at home. On the day he returned, we took down the flag, folded it properly and presented it to him.
As you know, Ricky met and married Glynda and together they have a beautiful son, Brandon. There are times when I look at my grandson and wonder if he too will follow in his father's footsteps. As I hold him close I know that whatever comes, he will be ready, as his father, his Granny, his great grandfather and great-great grandfather were.
Where was I on 9/11? I was at school in Enid, Oklahoma - but my heart was in New York and at Fort Bragg.
Ricky had joined the military in a time a relative peace in the world. But five years ago, as I huddled around a computer screen with my classmates, I knew the implications and I dreaded them. The sight of those planes crashing into the World Trade Center brought a chill to my bones and made my heart skip a beat. After the Rangers, Airborne were first in. My son was going to be a floating target.
As I mentioned once before, Ricky didn't go overseas. A jump accident prevented him from going and the frustration in his voice was not pleasant to hear. All his buddies were there while he stayed on the base and fueled aircraft. He had joined the Army to support our country and instead he was stuck in the barracks, unable to do what he had trained to do.
And now for my confession: I was glad and ashamed of it. I had come from a military family, I had uncles who fought in Vietnam and a father who had served on a ship during the Korean War - I had a grandfather who had lived through two World Wars and had tried to enlist both times(too young to enlist in the first, too old in the second). I, myself, had served in the Navy until it became apparent that a birth defect in my knees would not allow me to stay and serve my country. What kind of coward was I?
The worst kind I'm afraid - a mother protecting her son. Not so much a coward but the nurturing part of me won out over the patriotic side. And it made me ashamed to call myself an American. Me, who develops tears at the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner and who proudly led and said the Pledge of Allegiance all through grammar school, high school and college. I suddenly felt like Peter, who, when it came time to stand up for Christ, denied him, not once but three times.
Having my son get hurt while jumping from an airplane seemed to be my worst nightmare - yet it was that incident that kept him at home. I am still ashamed of my reaction to the fact that he remained at home but I know my son - as a Christian - he takes the "lay down my life for my brother" seriously and his natural instinct would have been to step into the line of fire to save another. Ricky knew he was ready to meet his Maker and he would have done so with open arms.
During the years after 9/11, a flag hung on the front of our house 24 hours a day, properly lit of course, as a reminder that we had a son who was serving our country in whatever capacity and who was dearly missed at home. On the day he returned, we took down the flag, folded it properly and presented it to him.
As you know, Ricky met and married Glynda and together they have a beautiful son, Brandon. There are times when I look at my grandson and wonder if he too will follow in his father's footsteps. As I hold him close I know that whatever comes, he will be ready, as his father, his Granny, his great grandfather and great-great grandfather were.
Where was I on 9/11? I was at school in Enid, Oklahoma - but my heart was in New York and at Fort Bragg.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Looking Beneath the Surface
Do you ever wonder how people see you? I do - I think I always have. I know how I view others and it makes me wonder how people view me. Generally I look on others with compassion and tenderness. Some might call this gullible but I just say I am gifted with Mercy and that spiritual gift isn't for everyone. It makes me look at others through the same rose-colored glasses that God looks at me through when he looks at me through Jesus.
Wayne Watson sings a wonderful song called Rose-Colored Glasses and it expresses the above sentiment to the T.
In my past I have had the opportunity to sit down with all sorts of people. There were famous people like Ruth Walker who wrote Air Force Wives, Pamela Wallace who wrote the story idea for Witness (I actually got to hold her Oscar!) and the screenplay for the second Left Behind movie, Bonnie Hearn who writes all sorts of writing books and mystery novels, New York Times Best Selling Author, Gail Giorgio, a Disney Executive named Denise, several Harlequin Romance publishers and many others I can't even remember. I've sat and had coffee with poet Luis Omar Salinas and Jon Veinburg and was thrilled when they told me I had a poet's soul. I've studied with some of the best in the business and been treated as their equal on most occasions. It is a heady feeling to walk among the stars of the writing world and know that on some level you have value to them. But most of these contacts were made when I was in the thick of things - heading up a writer's group in the Central San Joaquin Valley. It has been years since I felt that alive...Which brings me to the point of this blog.
A number of years ago, a former friend and I were having coffee at her condo in Fresno. I don't remember what were were discussing, it may have been her upcoming cruise to Mexico. At any rate, there was a plumber in the kitchen and I was getting quite animated with my words. She looked at me for a moment and put her fingers to her lips to silence me. Then, very quietly, she said, "be careful what you say right now - he is a nice guy but he is a surface person." I didn't know what the heck that was so I started to ask and again she quieted me. Later, after he left, she explained that a surface person was someone you were nice to and carried on pleasant conversations with but that is all. Sort of like the maids and butlers in a household are held at arm's length - friendly, but never in that "inner circle". I didn't understand that concept. I guess I still don't - and knowing my personality - I never will.
Years would pass before I would hear those words again and this time they would be coming out of the mouth of my own pastor as he counseled us on a family matter. He stated that he was very careful of who he let into his inner circle. I simply looked at my husband in disbelief - this man had held us at arm's length since we started attending the church. In that one sentence, Rusty let us know that we weren't worthy of his inner circle and were therefore "surface" people. Needless to say, we stopped attending that church. That pastor was no better than we were and nothing he said was going to make me see it any different.
Because of the ADHD in our sons and the behavior issue caused by the Tourette's Syndrome, we developed a habit of holding people at arm's length - not because we were better than they were - but because we never felt on the same level. They all had normal children and simply could not understand that we did not. There were a few we let get close and for the most part we were safe but we did get hurt a time or two.
So now I am in a position, once again, to wonder if I am a "surface" person. My years of keeping people at arm's length has caused my social skills to atrophy. I don't know what the rules are, much less how to play the game. But unless I step out and take a chance I will never learn now will I?
What most people don't understand about me is that I love them, warts and all. That is a rarity in this day and age.
Wayne Watson sings a wonderful song called Rose-Colored Glasses and it expresses the above sentiment to the T.
In my past I have had the opportunity to sit down with all sorts of people. There were famous people like Ruth Walker who wrote Air Force Wives, Pamela Wallace who wrote the story idea for Witness (I actually got to hold her Oscar!) and the screenplay for the second Left Behind movie, Bonnie Hearn who writes all sorts of writing books and mystery novels, New York Times Best Selling Author, Gail Giorgio, a Disney Executive named Denise, several Harlequin Romance publishers and many others I can't even remember. I've sat and had coffee with poet Luis Omar Salinas and Jon Veinburg and was thrilled when they told me I had a poet's soul. I've studied with some of the best in the business and been treated as their equal on most occasions. It is a heady feeling to walk among the stars of the writing world and know that on some level you have value to them. But most of these contacts were made when I was in the thick of things - heading up a writer's group in the Central San Joaquin Valley. It has been years since I felt that alive...Which brings me to the point of this blog.
A number of years ago, a former friend and I were having coffee at her condo in Fresno. I don't remember what were were discussing, it may have been her upcoming cruise to Mexico. At any rate, there was a plumber in the kitchen and I was getting quite animated with my words. She looked at me for a moment and put her fingers to her lips to silence me. Then, very quietly, she said, "be careful what you say right now - he is a nice guy but he is a surface person." I didn't know what the heck that was so I started to ask and again she quieted me. Later, after he left, she explained that a surface person was someone you were nice to and carried on pleasant conversations with but that is all. Sort of like the maids and butlers in a household are held at arm's length - friendly, but never in that "inner circle". I didn't understand that concept. I guess I still don't - and knowing my personality - I never will.
Years would pass before I would hear those words again and this time they would be coming out of the mouth of my own pastor as he counseled us on a family matter. He stated that he was very careful of who he let into his inner circle. I simply looked at my husband in disbelief - this man had held us at arm's length since we started attending the church. In that one sentence, Rusty let us know that we weren't worthy of his inner circle and were therefore "surface" people. Needless to say, we stopped attending that church. That pastor was no better than we were and nothing he said was going to make me see it any different.
Because of the ADHD in our sons and the behavior issue caused by the Tourette's Syndrome, we developed a habit of holding people at arm's length - not because we were better than they were - but because we never felt on the same level. They all had normal children and simply could not understand that we did not. There were a few we let get close and for the most part we were safe but we did get hurt a time or two.
So now I am in a position, once again, to wonder if I am a "surface" person. My years of keeping people at arm's length has caused my social skills to atrophy. I don't know what the rules are, much less how to play the game. But unless I step out and take a chance I will never learn now will I?
What most people don't understand about me is that I love them, warts and all. That is a rarity in this day and age.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
When Arthritis Strikes the Young
Today is going to be a relatively short post - at least that is what I am aiming for. I am a published writer and I am going to attempt at least a short post each day. I may not always be able to do this because of time constraints and such but I am going to try.
As I mentioned in my last blog, I am now on medication for Systemic Lupus. The medication is supposed to take up to a month to show results but I believe I can feel some differences already. Not totally you understand, and what I am feeling may just be the placebo effect that will be replaced once the medication actually kicks in. Since I am not a doctor or a scientist, I can't tell you if this is even possible but for whatever reason, I am feeling a bit better.
I wish I could say the same for my son. Ricky, Brandon's dad, was in the Army for almost three years. He was part of the 82nd Airborne. Now before you ask, no, he didn't go to Afghanistan or Iraq - and there was a reason for this. In a training exercise shortly after 9/11, his parachute mechanism malfunctioned and his chute opened up into the chute of another soldier. They dropped like rocks and hit so hard that it was heard over a hundred yards away. The first soldier hit first and Ricky was destined to land on top of him, but my wonderful son had the presence of mind to swing his legs to the side and land squarely on his buttocks. It was a miracle that no one was killed but Ricky has always had guardian angels watching over him and I thank God that this is the case otherwise he would not be here today.
At any rate, the fall caused numerous problems and although they treated him for over a year, he was eventually given a medical discharge. He left the Army, came home and got a job with Ben E. Keith as a loader. He married Glynda and they had Brandon and you would think they were going to live happily ever after. Not so. Ricky works in a very cold environment. He has worked for the company for nearly three years and now he is experiencing severe pain in his back and hip and arm. He went to the VA hospital and they suspect that he has developed arthritis in the injured area. What this means for my son is a drop in income and a future of constant pain. I have had arthritis for many years but it didn't even begin to develop until I was in my mid-to-late thirties. Ricky is 23.
Right now, Ricky isn't even allowed to lift his own son, but he stubbornly does so and immediately pays a heavy price for it. My son is frustrated and upset by this turn of events.
I will keep you posted on this latest development in the soap opera that is my life. In the meantime, if you pray, send one up for my son - he can use all the prayers he can get these days.
As I mentioned in my last blog, I am now on medication for Systemic Lupus. The medication is supposed to take up to a month to show results but I believe I can feel some differences already. Not totally you understand, and what I am feeling may just be the placebo effect that will be replaced once the medication actually kicks in. Since I am not a doctor or a scientist, I can't tell you if this is even possible but for whatever reason, I am feeling a bit better.
I wish I could say the same for my son. Ricky, Brandon's dad, was in the Army for almost three years. He was part of the 82nd Airborne. Now before you ask, no, he didn't go to Afghanistan or Iraq - and there was a reason for this. In a training exercise shortly after 9/11, his parachute mechanism malfunctioned and his chute opened up into the chute of another soldier. They dropped like rocks and hit so hard that it was heard over a hundred yards away. The first soldier hit first and Ricky was destined to land on top of him, but my wonderful son had the presence of mind to swing his legs to the side and land squarely on his buttocks. It was a miracle that no one was killed but Ricky has always had guardian angels watching over him and I thank God that this is the case otherwise he would not be here today.
At any rate, the fall caused numerous problems and although they treated him for over a year, he was eventually given a medical discharge. He left the Army, came home and got a job with Ben E. Keith as a loader. He married Glynda and they had Brandon and you would think they were going to live happily ever after. Not so. Ricky works in a very cold environment. He has worked for the company for nearly three years and now he is experiencing severe pain in his back and hip and arm. He went to the VA hospital and they suspect that he has developed arthritis in the injured area. What this means for my son is a drop in income and a future of constant pain. I have had arthritis for many years but it didn't even begin to develop until I was in my mid-to-late thirties. Ricky is 23.
Right now, Ricky isn't even allowed to lift his own son, but he stubbornly does so and immediately pays a heavy price for it. My son is frustrated and upset by this turn of events.
I will keep you posted on this latest development in the soap opera that is my life. In the meantime, if you pray, send one up for my son - he can use all the prayers he can get these days.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Fibromyalgia Part Deux Lupus Part One
Did you ever wake up in the morning and wonder what the day would bring? I have - today especially. As I mentioned in my last posting, I had an appointment with a doctor about my fibromyalgia. What I neglected to mention was that at the same time I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, my blood work also indicated that I might have Systemic Lupus. At the time, ten years ago, that was pretty serious so I was relieved when the second test did not confirm the diagnosis.
What I didn't know then and have since learned is that this is not uncommon. Over the last ten years, this same scenario has repeated itself over and over until three years ago when I began to experience what are known as "flare ups" or flares as I call them. They always start with a sore in my nose or mouth followed by a rash on my face and then extreme fatigue. I have learned how to compensate since I know the warning signs. But the past 12 months have been very hard, I have been sick like I was in 1996 when I was first diagnosed - every week it seemed that I was coming down with whatever was going around - and that just isn't like me - I never get sick. I guess I can't say that anymore.
Three years ago, a rheumatologist put me on medication designed to help with the fibromyalgia but since the second test for lupus was not positive, did not treat me for that. In May of this year, I got sick - this time it was the lymph glands on the right side of my neck. I was sick for a month and nothing helped it. I lost the job I had at the time and have been tired ever since - I can't seem to get enough sleep.
Today, the doctor examined me, a different doctor this time and he asked me if I had any rashes that he needed to know about. Honestly I hadn't thought about it but when he said it, I pointed to two perfectly round spots on one of my arms. One had faded from bright red to an almost skin-colored dry path - the other was still red. I had other spots like these on my thighs just above the knees and just below the waist. I have had them this year in other spots. They don't itch at all - they are just red spots - almost like a bug bite only not raised. And they are perfectly round. The doctor took one look at these, helped me off the table and then explained that he was putting me on medication for lupus - even before the blood tests come back.
I left the doctor's office and went to work. I had known when I went this morning that he would tell me what he did but I kept hoping I was wrong.
So now I am entering a new phase. I know, because of my age and my health, that most likely I won't be able to work until I am 65 like most people. So for the next year, we are going to concentrate on reducing our debt ( we really only have a couple of car payments) and putting money into savings so that we can survive on one income. Then, if there comes a time when I can no longer work, we will be prepared.
I still have Fibromyalgia only now it is complicated with Lupus. I will keep you posted and if the tests come back negative again, we can have a blogging party to celebrate - I'll even bring a picture of the cake!
Until next time.
What I didn't know then and have since learned is that this is not uncommon. Over the last ten years, this same scenario has repeated itself over and over until three years ago when I began to experience what are known as "flare ups" or flares as I call them. They always start with a sore in my nose or mouth followed by a rash on my face and then extreme fatigue. I have learned how to compensate since I know the warning signs. But the past 12 months have been very hard, I have been sick like I was in 1996 when I was first diagnosed - every week it seemed that I was coming down with whatever was going around - and that just isn't like me - I never get sick. I guess I can't say that anymore.
Three years ago, a rheumatologist put me on medication designed to help with the fibromyalgia but since the second test for lupus was not positive, did not treat me for that. In May of this year, I got sick - this time it was the lymph glands on the right side of my neck. I was sick for a month and nothing helped it. I lost the job I had at the time and have been tired ever since - I can't seem to get enough sleep.
Today, the doctor examined me, a different doctor this time and he asked me if I had any rashes that he needed to know about. Honestly I hadn't thought about it but when he said it, I pointed to two perfectly round spots on one of my arms. One had faded from bright red to an almost skin-colored dry path - the other was still red. I had other spots like these on my thighs just above the knees and just below the waist. I have had them this year in other spots. They don't itch at all - they are just red spots - almost like a bug bite only not raised. And they are perfectly round. The doctor took one look at these, helped me off the table and then explained that he was putting me on medication for lupus - even before the blood tests come back.
I left the doctor's office and went to work. I had known when I went this morning that he would tell me what he did but I kept hoping I was wrong.
So now I am entering a new phase. I know, because of my age and my health, that most likely I won't be able to work until I am 65 like most people. So for the next year, we are going to concentrate on reducing our debt ( we really only have a couple of car payments) and putting money into savings so that we can survive on one income. Then, if there comes a time when I can no longer work, we will be prepared.
I still have Fibromyalgia only now it is complicated with Lupus. I will keep you posted and if the tests come back negative again, we can have a blogging party to celebrate - I'll even bring a picture of the cake!
Until next time.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
It's Almost Football Season - Go Sooners!
Today was a good day and I mean it! Yesterday...well, that's another story. I work in an office full of men and the testosterone was flowing all over the place. That's what happens as football season nears - they all start jockeying for position. Now I am a football fan too but there is a limit - at least for me - unless of course we are talking about the Sooners and then the gloves are off!
But as for yesterday, I should be used to this, remember that I raised two boys and was always in a house full of testosterone. But when I came home, my husband, usually a very sweet man, was lumped into the same category as my co-workers and I went off on him like a bullet from a gun. Thankfully he didn't hold it against me and we had a relatively pleasant evening.
But today was better. As I mentioned before, I work for the Adsense Guy, Joel Comm. I told you in my first posting what a wonderful guy he is - he demonstrated that even more today. My last job was as a technical support representative for a software company. I loved my job but I hated the politics - especially the ones that had to do with promotions. Females rarely got them and I deserved to be promoted. When I chose to come to work for Joel, I was excited about the prospect because of the type of man he is. I knew he would be a great boss.
This job has turned out to be a healing balm to a badly damaged ego. I am very good at what I do but working at my other job had caused me to doubt my talents and abilities. Joel and Brian encourage me to expand my horizons and try new things. They trust me to do my job without micromanaging me. But most of all, and I think this is the key, they let me know how much they appreciate me. Today, Joel was getting ready to go out of town for a seminar. He was very busy but when it was time for me to go home he told me how much he appreciated me. It made me stop for a minute and thank him for hiring me. Not to be outdone, he thanks me for loving my job. Talk about a great feeling! I left work flying and talked about it to Rich all the way home (aren't cell phones wonderful things?).
I have always felt that a job should be fun otherwise what is the point. This job is fun, challenging and when the day is done, I leave there knowing that I accomplished something. I have thanked God every day for giving me this opportunity. I can hardly wait for tomorrow.
But as for yesterday, I should be used to this, remember that I raised two boys and was always in a house full of testosterone. But when I came home, my husband, usually a very sweet man, was lumped into the same category as my co-workers and I went off on him like a bullet from a gun. Thankfully he didn't hold it against me and we had a relatively pleasant evening.
But today was better. As I mentioned before, I work for the Adsense Guy, Joel Comm. I told you in my first posting what a wonderful guy he is - he demonstrated that even more today. My last job was as a technical support representative for a software company. I loved my job but I hated the politics - especially the ones that had to do with promotions. Females rarely got them and I deserved to be promoted. When I chose to come to work for Joel, I was excited about the prospect because of the type of man he is. I knew he would be a great boss.
This job has turned out to be a healing balm to a badly damaged ego. I am very good at what I do but working at my other job had caused me to doubt my talents and abilities. Joel and Brian encourage me to expand my horizons and try new things. They trust me to do my job without micromanaging me. But most of all, and I think this is the key, they let me know how much they appreciate me. Today, Joel was getting ready to go out of town for a seminar. He was very busy but when it was time for me to go home he told me how much he appreciated me. It made me stop for a minute and thank him for hiring me. Not to be outdone, he thanks me for loving my job. Talk about a great feeling! I left work flying and talked about it to Rich all the way home (aren't cell phones wonderful things?).
I have always felt that a job should be fun otherwise what is the point. This job is fun, challenging and when the day is done, I leave there knowing that I accomplished something. I have thanked God every day for giving me this opportunity. I can hardly wait for tomorrow.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Fibromyalgia - No days without Pain
Today is Sunday and I haven't posted in two days. I make no excuses for that. As I mentioned on Thursday, we were expecting a visit from our 15 month old grandson, Brandon. My husband used his entire posting on the anticipated visit. As it turned out, we actually had him for two nights. It has been horribly hot here in Oklahoma and my son's air conditioner never really worked that well and it finally went out completely. We told them to let Brandon stay with us while it was being fixed. It was fun but exhausting especially since we had all of them here - all four grandchildren and their parents - on Saturday for a birthday party. Since we enjoy playing games with Ricky and Glynda each weekend, we stayed up really late playing Lord of the Rings monopoly. Talk about fun - especially when you win - and I did!
So I have been in granny heaven the last few days and have spent today basking in the glow of being a grandmother.
But as in all things good - there is often a price to pay and I am paying that price today. My plans were to catch up on the laundry, do the grocery shopping and clean house. Well, I got the grocery shopping done and I managed to do the dishes and two loads of laundry but that's all. I am in too much pain to do much else.
Ten years ago I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. At the time I had no idea what that was. I only knew that everything hurt. Well, as I sit here today the pain has not lessened as I half expected it to. In fact, it has gotten worse. Now, I don't know how much you know about this affliction but I have learned far more than I ever wanted to learn about it. Here is what I know:
And that's me. My mother once told someone that I would have been the first kid to cross the Mojave desert in a day. My sons come by their ADHD honestly.
The truth is, I thrive under pressure and the Fibromyalgia has just sharpened that part of my personality. When I discovered I could no longer do it all - I began to learn how to say no and how to restructure my life so that the important things would get done. I do my dishes and keep the living room and bathrooms presentable - my bedroom is almost never spotless and forget about my office. My husband has always loved having a clean house but he has learned to either clean it himself (when I'm not around because it makes me feel horrible that he is doing it when I should) or just live with it. The days I come home to find that he has cleaned the bathrooms top to bottom and mopped the kitchen floor are very special days for me and they aren't rare - it is my husband who is rare.
Over the years, he has learned to care for me in ways that are not always evident. I know he loves to barbecue but he allows me to do it because I want to. He allows me to handle the finances even though I am not as good at it as he is because he knows that this makes me feel like there is something in my life that I can control. He even lets me drive if I want to - a lot of men would feel less manly - but he knows without being told, what I need to make my days bearable.
So when I wake up in the morning too sore to move (like this morning), he doesn't make me feel like a slug because I can't make him a huge breakfast - he accepts his toast and eggs and sausage with pleasant surprise that he isn't eating cereal. He knows I will pay for it all day but he finds ways to make my life easier because I cared enough to take care of him.
Living with Fibromyalgia has taught me to trust others with the things that matter and to give up control of the things that don't. Somehow God has taken a negative and turned it into almost a positive. I don't like living everyday with pain but it has made me appreciate those days when the pain is less and I can do more.
I'm going to a specialist on Thursday and hopefully he will have something up his sleeve that will make my days less painful. But if not, I have survived the first ten years okay - and now I have my grandkids to ease the stress so maybe things will get better - one can only hope.
So I have been in granny heaven the last few days and have spent today basking in the glow of being a grandmother.
But as in all things good - there is often a price to pay and I am paying that price today. My plans were to catch up on the laundry, do the grocery shopping and clean house. Well, I got the grocery shopping done and I managed to do the dishes and two loads of laundry but that's all. I am in too much pain to do much else.
Ten years ago I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. At the time I had no idea what that was. I only knew that everything hurt. Well, as I sit here today the pain has not lessened as I half expected it to. In fact, it has gotten worse. Now, I don't know how much you know about this affliction but I have learned far more than I ever wanted to learn about it. Here is what I know:
- Every minute of every day I live with pain
- There are good days and bad days but the good days are more like good bad days
- Sleep deprivation makes it worse
- Pain makes it hard to get a restful night's sleep
- Sleep deprivation makes it worse
- Stress causes more pain which makes it hard to sleep which causes more pain which creates more stress
- Family members don't always understand your limitations
- You refuse to accept your limitations
- Not respecting limitations causes you to overdo which causes more pain which creates more stress which deprives you of sleep which creates more pain
- It will never, ever, ever get better and it will never go away.
And that's me. My mother once told someone that I would have been the first kid to cross the Mojave desert in a day. My sons come by their ADHD honestly.
The truth is, I thrive under pressure and the Fibromyalgia has just sharpened that part of my personality. When I discovered I could no longer do it all - I began to learn how to say no and how to restructure my life so that the important things would get done. I do my dishes and keep the living room and bathrooms presentable - my bedroom is almost never spotless and forget about my office. My husband has always loved having a clean house but he has learned to either clean it himself (when I'm not around because it makes me feel horrible that he is doing it when I should) or just live with it. The days I come home to find that he has cleaned the bathrooms top to bottom and mopped the kitchen floor are very special days for me and they aren't rare - it is my husband who is rare.
Over the years, he has learned to care for me in ways that are not always evident. I know he loves to barbecue but he allows me to do it because I want to. He allows me to handle the finances even though I am not as good at it as he is because he knows that this makes me feel like there is something in my life that I can control. He even lets me drive if I want to - a lot of men would feel less manly - but he knows without being told, what I need to make my days bearable.
So when I wake up in the morning too sore to move (like this morning), he doesn't make me feel like a slug because I can't make him a huge breakfast - he accepts his toast and eggs and sausage with pleasant surprise that he isn't eating cereal. He knows I will pay for it all day but he finds ways to make my life easier because I cared enough to take care of him.
Living with Fibromyalgia has taught me to trust others with the things that matter and to give up control of the things that don't. Somehow God has taken a negative and turned it into almost a positive. I don't like living everyday with pain but it has made me appreciate those days when the pain is less and I can do more.
I'm going to a specialist on Thursday and hopefully he will have something up his sleeve that will make my days less painful. But if not, I have survived the first ten years okay - and now I have my grandkids to ease the stress so maybe things will get better - one can only hope.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
ADHD, OCD, Bipolar, Asperger's - My kids had it before it was popular!
Okay, it's lunch and I am at work but this will be perhaps my only chance to write today since I am eagerly anticipating the arrival of Brandon Wiley for an overnight visit. Yes, Granny and Papa are babysitting tonight and Papa is taking a vacation day so he can spend it with "his buddy".
Brandon loves his Papa very much when we visit Ricky and Glynda (his parents) - he runs to the door and stands in front of it so we won't leave - if that doesn't seem to be working, he grabs onto Papa's pants, looks up with huge, tear-filled eyes, and begins to cry in ernest. Apparently this trick is not limited to just us either - it happens to everyone that Brandon likes. And that baby likes a lot of people - just like his Uncle Ryan, he is sweet and charming and full of energy - keeping up with him is a full time job - how his mama does it I will never know - but that's not true - I do know how she does it - I had two just like him.
I first heard the words Attention deficit hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) when my sons were six and four. From there it went from bad to worse. Back then there were no books on the subject and no support groups and people looked at us like we were crazy when we tried to use the American with Disabilities Act to get assistance in the schools. Back then there were no safeguards in place for children like my sons. For example, they each had areas where they excelled and areas where they were weak. Ricky was prime at math and science but had trouble with English and Reading - so you would think they would remove him from class during English and Reading time - not so - they removed him during Social Studies - now where is the logic in that? They remove him from class he needs to help him with other classes he needs which causes him to fail the class he doesn't get to attend.
No wonder both my sons dropped out of school by the time they reached high school - they were as tired of the merry-go-round as we were. Now, Ricky went back to school, joined the Army and now is working full time and going to college while still managing to be a husband and father. You would have to be ADHD to accomplish this. But Ryan never did go back and he is my dark child - the one who not only walks on the wild side but lives there, eats there and wants to start a business there. Not that he has been in any real trouble - he just lives in RyanWorld. It's kind of like the center of the universe - at least HIS universe. The rest of us just watch, amused, as he tries to keep up with his own lies and deceptions.
I try to write humor into this tale but having lived through it makes it hard and knowing that I am STILL living through it to a certain degree makes it even harder. Everytime I look at Ryan's beautiful daughter Serenity I want to strangle him. She is unlike him in everyway except for looks - and there is no way he could deny her. But he has walked away from her and is missing out on everything from her first tooth to her first steps. He's missing out on the way she cuddles with Papa when she gets out of the pool or the way she chases her older cousin around the yard on all fours.
But Ryan is in his own world, socially autistic, as he therapist once said. In fact, he was the first one to use the term Asperger's Syndrome when making a diagnosis. Suddenly it all made sense.
I could say I breathed a sigh of relief but I didn't. Knowing what was wrong was only the beginning. I equate it to being diagnosed with a disease such as cancer or lupus. The diagnosis only tells you what is wrong - it is in the treatment that you begin to see changes (good and bad). Unfortunately by the time we finally discovered the core problem, Ryan was already sick of being medicated, poked and prodded. He was tired of hospitalizations and people laughing at him both behind his back and to his face. He was fed up with some of God's people who literally turned their back on him when he needed them the most.
Richard and I will never give up on our son - we may not always know what to do but we trust that God will show us what we need to do when we need to do it.
In the meantime, we love the babies and cuddle them close knowing that, at some point, everything will turn out fine.
Brandon loves his Papa very much when we visit Ricky and Glynda (his parents) - he runs to the door and stands in front of it so we won't leave - if that doesn't seem to be working, he grabs onto Papa's pants, looks up with huge, tear-filled eyes, and begins to cry in ernest. Apparently this trick is not limited to just us either - it happens to everyone that Brandon likes. And that baby likes a lot of people - just like his Uncle Ryan, he is sweet and charming and full of energy - keeping up with him is a full time job - how his mama does it I will never know - but that's not true - I do know how she does it - I had two just like him.
I first heard the words Attention deficit hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) when my sons were six and four. From there it went from bad to worse. Back then there were no books on the subject and no support groups and people looked at us like we were crazy when we tried to use the American with Disabilities Act to get assistance in the schools. Back then there were no safeguards in place for children like my sons. For example, they each had areas where they excelled and areas where they were weak. Ricky was prime at math and science but had trouble with English and Reading - so you would think they would remove him from class during English and Reading time - not so - they removed him during Social Studies - now where is the logic in that? They remove him from class he needs to help him with other classes he needs which causes him to fail the class he doesn't get to attend.
No wonder both my sons dropped out of school by the time they reached high school - they were as tired of the merry-go-round as we were. Now, Ricky went back to school, joined the Army and now is working full time and going to college while still managing to be a husband and father. You would have to be ADHD to accomplish this. But Ryan never did go back and he is my dark child - the one who not only walks on the wild side but lives there, eats there and wants to start a business there. Not that he has been in any real trouble - he just lives in RyanWorld. It's kind of like the center of the universe - at least HIS universe. The rest of us just watch, amused, as he tries to keep up with his own lies and deceptions.
I try to write humor into this tale but having lived through it makes it hard and knowing that I am STILL living through it to a certain degree makes it even harder. Everytime I look at Ryan's beautiful daughter Serenity I want to strangle him. She is unlike him in everyway except for looks - and there is no way he could deny her. But he has walked away from her and is missing out on everything from her first tooth to her first steps. He's missing out on the way she cuddles with Papa when she gets out of the pool or the way she chases her older cousin around the yard on all fours.
But Ryan is in his own world, socially autistic, as he therapist once said. In fact, he was the first one to use the term Asperger's Syndrome when making a diagnosis. Suddenly it all made sense.
I could say I breathed a sigh of relief but I didn't. Knowing what was wrong was only the beginning. I equate it to being diagnosed with a disease such as cancer or lupus. The diagnosis only tells you what is wrong - it is in the treatment that you begin to see changes (good and bad). Unfortunately by the time we finally discovered the core problem, Ryan was already sick of being medicated, poked and prodded. He was tired of hospitalizations and people laughing at him both behind his back and to his face. He was fed up with some of God's people who literally turned their back on him when he needed them the most.
Richard and I will never give up on our son - we may not always know what to do but we trust that God will show us what we need to do when we need to do it.
In the meantime, we love the babies and cuddle them close knowing that, at some point, everything will turn out fine.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Working for the Adsense Guy
Well, here I am sitting here thinking about what I want to say. I don't plan to be political but I am sure there are times when I will rise up and voice my opinion. If you want politics - check out my husband's blog: My Point Exactly! - now there is a guy with some political opinions - thankfully I share those opinions (at least most of them) which makes for a very stable marriage.
For those who haven't read my profile (and since I haven't created it as yet - no one has), I am a Granny. A very YOUNG granny to be sure but a granny just the same. I have four grandchildren. Two of them were what I like to term "practice" grandkids. I got the chance to start learning how to spoil them about two years ago. They are Adrianna and Xavier - ages 4 and 5 respectively. Xavier will be six in October and is starting school next week - he is so excited he can hardly see straight. The other two grandkids were born 11 days apart last year. My two sons, who rarely did anything together growing up, decided to have children at the same time. The result was Brandon Wiley born May 9 and Serenity Dawn born May 20. Serenity's brother and sister are my practice grandkids - and trust me I got very good at spoiling before the two babies came along.
I will be telling you lots and lots about the babies as time goes by but that's enough for today. Instead I want to talk about my boss. Dangerous proposition I know, but I asked his permission first. So as long as I don't cross any invisible lines I am okay.
Not that I would dare cross any lines - I truly LIKE my boss. I work for the Adsense guy - Joel Comm. Now, before you all jump up and down and start saying bad things (Yes, I HAVE read some of your postings) please understand that I won't tolerate anyone bad mouthing this guy. At 47 years old I have been around the block a few times and I have had good bosses and bad bosses. Joel Comm stands up there with all the good bosses - in fact, he is probably at the top of the list. I'm not saying that because he might read this later on - I am saying it because it is true.
First of all, the man is full of creative energy. You just want to touch him to see if he gives off an electrical charge. I found out that he doesn't when I shook his hand during our interview. Second, he is as real as it gets. There are no smoke and mirrors presenting a false image - he really is like a big kid who just wants to share the cookie jar with his friends. In this day and age when people are struggling to hang onto their money and the ways they acquire it - this man is sharing his secrets to anyone who will listen. My husband, Mr. Skeptical-if-it-sounds-too-good-to-be-true-it-is, was so excited about the little he'd heard and read that he started his own blog and signed up for Adsense. I've rarely seen my husband jump on anyone's bandwagon - he usually just goes along for the rides I take him on. But this is different and he can see the vast potential - so much so that he acted upon it.
Third, and I guess this was the most important thing for me, Joel walks the walk and talks the talk. He is a wonderful, Godly man. He has a sense of loyalty that is rare in these times. I know I sound a bit gushing but it has been a long time since I got on anyone's bandwagon and like my husband I am a bit skeptical about things now that I am among the more weathered of society - you know - the "Granny" crowd.
So, here I sit, yet another Joel Comm fan - but not because of what his teachings on Adsense can do for me - that alone would not garner my trust and loyalty. No, he has earned that trust and loyalty by being a man with a vision that has expanded to encompass my talents and abilities. Now THAT, I can get on board with!
Look for more on my grandchildren, my job and life in general in the days to come!
For those who haven't read my profile (and since I haven't created it as yet - no one has), I am a Granny. A very YOUNG granny to be sure but a granny just the same. I have four grandchildren. Two of them were what I like to term "practice" grandkids. I got the chance to start learning how to spoil them about two years ago. They are Adrianna and Xavier - ages 4 and 5 respectively. Xavier will be six in October and is starting school next week - he is so excited he can hardly see straight. The other two grandkids were born 11 days apart last year. My two sons, who rarely did anything together growing up, decided to have children at the same time. The result was Brandon Wiley born May 9 and Serenity Dawn born May 20. Serenity's brother and sister are my practice grandkids - and trust me I got very good at spoiling before the two babies came along.
I will be telling you lots and lots about the babies as time goes by but that's enough for today. Instead I want to talk about my boss. Dangerous proposition I know, but I asked his permission first. So as long as I don't cross any invisible lines I am okay.
Not that I would dare cross any lines - I truly LIKE my boss. I work for the Adsense guy - Joel Comm. Now, before you all jump up and down and start saying bad things (Yes, I HAVE read some of your postings) please understand that I won't tolerate anyone bad mouthing this guy. At 47 years old I have been around the block a few times and I have had good bosses and bad bosses. Joel Comm stands up there with all the good bosses - in fact, he is probably at the top of the list. I'm not saying that because he might read this later on - I am saying it because it is true.
First of all, the man is full of creative energy. You just want to touch him to see if he gives off an electrical charge. I found out that he doesn't when I shook his hand during our interview. Second, he is as real as it gets. There are no smoke and mirrors presenting a false image - he really is like a big kid who just wants to share the cookie jar with his friends. In this day and age when people are struggling to hang onto their money and the ways they acquire it - this man is sharing his secrets to anyone who will listen. My husband, Mr. Skeptical-if-it-sounds-too-good-to-be-true-it-is, was so excited about the little he'd heard and read that he started his own blog and signed up for Adsense. I've rarely seen my husband jump on anyone's bandwagon - he usually just goes along for the rides I take him on. But this is different and he can see the vast potential - so much so that he acted upon it.
Third, and I guess this was the most important thing for me, Joel walks the walk and talks the talk. He is a wonderful, Godly man. He has a sense of loyalty that is rare in these times. I know I sound a bit gushing but it has been a long time since I got on anyone's bandwagon and like my husband I am a bit skeptical about things now that I am among the more weathered of society - you know - the "Granny" crowd.
So, here I sit, yet another Joel Comm fan - but not because of what his teachings on Adsense can do for me - that alone would not garner my trust and loyalty. No, he has earned that trust and loyalty by being a man with a vision that has expanded to encompass my talents and abilities. Now THAT, I can get on board with!
Look for more on my grandchildren, my job and life in general in the days to come!
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