Keep six feet apart

Where is the toilet paper

Order a pizza

Good news, in that mom’s MRI showed no cancer! Dad and I very happy to hear this. But, the source of mom’s pain are severely bulging discs.

Thirty minutes ago, I received a call from rehab facility. Doctor at facility has decided to send mom back to Mercy ER for “further evaluation”. Probably for the best. Although, I see it as an indication that they don’t know what to do with her.

Two steps forward, twelve steps back. Please continue to pray for my dear mom (and dad).

Here we wait, outside Roswell, for transportation company to pick mom up with wheelchair van and return her to rehab facility. It has been a difficult afternoon for mom, to put it mildly.

Dad and I arrived ahead of mom’s appointment. We went straight to imaging department. To our dismay, the transportation company did not communicate clearly that they just drop patient off outside. It would have been helpful for them to let us know to meet mom at a designated point. She was scared for a minute.

After getting her into imaging department, the techs did their best to get mom’s tests done quickly, while keeping her discomfort to a minimum. They were professional and kind. Mom is in so much pain, and only getting Tylenol to ease it. Her strength is amazing. Still feisty, joking though obviously suffering.

Having spent hours today seeking answers for mom’s condition, it seems we will have to wait a few days for results. It was also indicated to dad that further tests may be scheduled. Given mom’s weakened state, dad and I are extremely frustrated about the complete lack of care coordination from facility to facility. Dad has spoken with mom’s care providers at rehab regularly since her arrival. Prior to that, he communicated clearly with medical staff during her hospital stay. If the patient’s family has provided a clear history of said patient, why is there no communication between the professional providers? Roswell staff struggled with mom today. These kids had no prior knowledge of mom’s other existing medical condition. We were all reminded today that information is key, particularly in matters of the treatment of a loved one.

Mom was transported back to rehab, dad and I not far behind. We made sure she was safely back in her room before returning home. We had a brief window visit, saying our goodnights. Mom was exhausted. She will surely rest well tonight. I pray that she does.

Dad and I are grateful for the health care mom has received, and continues to receive. We have immense respect for health care professionals, at all levels, in every position. But, we are disappointed in the lack of communication and absence of continuity among facilities.

Please continue to pray for mom, and for all those living with chronic illness. Thank you all for your concern and love. We have each other, therefore we have everything.

• 

Tomorrow is a big day for mom. We will finally have some answers regarding her health. Tomorrow, she goes to Roswell for tests.

To be expected, she is nervous, scared, anxious. Dad and I share these same emotions, but we are keeping our countenance steady. Trying to emulate strength. We need to be the strength for mom while she focuses on getting herself healed.

Since July 28th, when mom was initially hospitalized, we have prayed for her healing. Each day, asking God to remain by her side and grant her divine comfort.

Watching a parent suffer, and not being able to help them, is a special kind of hell. Mom being hospitalized is sad and frustrating, but she’s kept comfortable, and by extension, we are comforted. Seeing dad deal with his sweetheart’s declining health is absolutely heart wrenching. He has been mom’s companion for over fifty years. A marriage that could teach us all a lesson in loyalty, devotion, and true love. Dad has always taken pride in caring for mom himself. Until he just couldn’t anymore. It became painfully clear that he/we were not able to provide the level of care mom needed.

Each day, since July 28th, mom’s healthcare has been in the hands of medical professionals. Dad and I do our best to advocate for mom. Although we are generally pleased with the care she’s received so far, we feel that the transition from hospital to rehab could have been smoother. Communication was poor to non existent from one facility to the next. Intervention from family on behalf of patient is key, dad and I have found.

In the age of Covid, loved ones are sometimes forced to be physically distanced. (Another layer in an already emotionally charged situation.) We make the best of it, and enjoy brief daily visits at mom’s window. She’s in pain, always tired, but puts on a beautiful smile for us. Mom is trying her best in OT/PT to regain some mobility. Her goal is to return home. Our goal, since day one, has been to get her home. We are presently working on some modifications to mom and dad’s house. We want her to be able to live comfortably and safely.

As tomorrow approaches, my anxiety increases. I cannot imagine how my mom must feel right now. Praying that she rests well tonight. Also concerned for dad. He puts on a brave face, but his heart aches for his sweetheart. To have such selfless love for another, free from disparaging judgment, is rare and beautiful.

We will face tomorrow as a family united. Though worry cannot be averted, nothing that will be revealed tomorrow can crush our hope. Strength, faith, and love will win.

Prayers welcome. Updates to follow.

• 

December 2, 2019. Christmas a mere 3 weeks away. I can barely afford my own lavish dollar store lifestyle, and now it’s  giving season. (And now everyone knows where their gift is coming from.)

As if Santa himself received a briefing on my shitty attitude toward goodness and normalcy this past year, I receive the only punishment fitting for such an offense; the dreaded jury summons.

Civic duty? Sure. Day I can afford to waste time, having my ability to assess data tested? Nah.  Also, I’m far too shallow at this point to wrap my brain around someone else’s drama. Aren’t there unemployed people out there that have time for this? How about retired folks? Why do employed folks get stuck with this? A jury of the defendant’s peers you say? Interesting. (Chances are, employed folks likely NOT the defendant’s “peer” in this county.)

Here’s to hoping that our Christmas wishes are granted. Raise your voice for the injustice of having to assist in delivering justice. Raise your straight, unwrinkled dollar bills, crossing fingers that the vending machine in court building is fully stocked when your blood sugar plummets late morning.

And most of all, I can’t wait to see if my prosthetic hips light up security like a Christmas tree. Sometimes they set off metal detectors, sometimes they don’t. I have a card with surgeon’s name, manufacturers serial number, etc.  Still it is a hassle to explain, especially when you don’t want to be there to begin with.

Regardless of how much this positively sucks, I should be grateful for having a day to draw different perspective from different types of people. Maybe that is the hidden gift here. 🎁 🎄

 

Today, the subject of harassment was brought up at work, sexual and otherwise. A topic that would seem to be straightforward.

Most of us, raised by 60’s era parents, are open minded and empathetic. Meaning that we are not easily offended, but are respectful of the feelings of others. Common sense plays a role in our speech and actions. We are not out to hurt anyone intentionally.

While most forms of harassment would seem obvious; unwanted touching, lewd language, threatening or hostile environment caused by such activity, some are less obvious. “Third party”, or anyone within earshot of a conversation that could be interpreted as offensive, must be considered when in a professional environment. In simpler terms, if a coworker overhears something they don’t like, it could be interpreted as harassment. Whether that seems fair or not, this is our reality in today’s workplace.

While we realize that these rules, regulations and laws exist to protect workers from hostility, I sometimes wonder if we’ve become so uptight that anything could be interpreted as offensive to a highly sensitive individual. Does interpretation cancel out intent?

Moving forward, I will continue to exercise common sense in matters of workplace conversation. After all, we’re employed for the purpose of bill paying, not friend making. Sure, it’s great to make new friends. But, in our hypersensitive, litigious society it’s probably best to keep work and play far apart from each other.

 

 

 

 

In youth, the future seemed bright. The difference was clear between wrong and right. At play all day, restful slumber at night. Nothing fancy did we need. Simpler times, indeed.

Teenage years, we’re full of hope. Despite hormonal spikes, we somehow cope. School, friends, sports and dances. Young and bold, taking chances.

Adulthood comes knocking. Have we prepared ourselves? Is responsibility shocking? What do we fear? Is our purpose clear? Our path we pave with the memories we save. Good and bad, happy, sad. Each stone we lay tells the tale of a bygone day.

My path winds, dips, turns and is chipped. I have fallen. I have risen. Where it ends is unclear, but I walk on with no fear. Wearing a smile, shedding a tear, knowing that revelation of purpose is near.

 

 

As I get older, it seems that reading people becomes easier. Maybe that’s part of the gift of age. We’ve learned to know ourselves well enough to trust in our assessments of others. Not that I’m always correct in matters of human nature, but my margin of error has gotten thinner as I’ve grown older.

Seeing this as a gift is key. “With age comes wisdom.” – Sure, if we allow ourselves to let go of stubbornness, pettiness, jealousy, pride. Anything that casts a cloud over our clarity. Once we’ve put all this aside, seeing others for who they truly are is simple, because we’ve accepted our own truth.

This is not license to be judgemental. We cannot scoff in righteous indignation every time we disagree with other people. (I was raised Catholic, but it didn’t ruin me.) Rather, this is a call for acceptance, understanding, balance. If we can’t draw peace from within, we can’t expect harmony in our lives. And if we allow others to disturb our peace, we have not read them correctly.

It has taken me years to trust my feelings about others. That uncertainty has caused some painful truths to become evident. But it has also taught me to never ignore a hunch. Keep reading people. Read through each chapter they reveal. People are like books. Some, you can’t get enough of, can’t put down. And some, you can’t wait to be done with, and would not recommend to others.

 

 

The Christmas season is upon us. Peace, love, happiness…..all that shit. This time of year we are supposed to be extra thankful for our blessings, seeking the good in this world, sharing our resources with the less fortunate, and renewing our faith in humanity. Sounds about right. (?)

What if, in the midst of this yuletide love in, you find yourself reacting to an endless stream of disrespect, selfishness, and manipulation? And what if this behavior is coming from within your own clan? What if you’ve given all your love, time, energy and dignity without a shred of appreciation in return? This treatment could bring anyone to tears. Or, you could allow yourself to be angry.

We are conditioned to handle stress, drama, and opposition with diplomacy. Although I’d agree with that idea most of the time, THERE COMES A TIME THAT WE ALL NEED TO GET REALLY PISSED OFF AND UNLEASH SOME ANGER.

There is only so much negativity one can take before tweeking out. And when you’re a generally happy, live and let live type of person, your uncharacteristic, reactionary outburst is seen as a meltdown of sorts. Really?

Is it unfathomable that ANGER, in it’s purest form, can be therapeutic?

Bottling up emotions is no way to deal with stress. Eventually, that cork will pop. But now that you’ve let your gasket blow, everyone around you is taken aback by harsh honesty spoken loudly with passion.

“Watch your blood pressure.” – Guess what assholes, I am watching it. I’m watching it increase with every indignation suffered at your hand. And I see it decrease when I allow myself to release adrenaline.

Although we may say things in anger that we’ll later regret, the release is necessary. I am guilty of telling loved ones that I hate them. Sad, unfortunate, but EXACTLY how I felt in the moment.

I’m not campaigning for anger to replace rational thinking, but I believe it has a place in sound mental health.

We’re allowed to laugh, cry, love. These emotions are not questioned because they are considered socially acceptable. Fuck that.

Freak out if you need to. Acknowledge your anger, then let it go. It may not be pretty, and you may upset people when you finally allow yourself to open up, but these same people are likely the reason for your stress.

Anger is underrated. We need the dark emotion sometimes. It reminds us that we have choices. We choose how to treat each other, how to live, how to love. Make it difficult, or make it matter.

Take my advice, choose the latter.