Oh, meyo myo! Oy Vey! And the rest of it

What a day! After this morning's service at worship I went to lunch and then grocery shopped after that. When I got home I got a hair to clean and went on a cleaning tear. I cleared out some long overdue (think 3 years) of clutter out of my bed room and some in various spots around my house. I could have a month of Sundays like today and still have more to do. I gave it a good start. The biggest henderance has been my finicky heart and the darned heart monitor. With today's heat I was guzzling Poweraide Zero hoping that my heart would settle down. It didn't. It was complaining like a teen who is told no with palpitations and angina all over the place. The monitor kept me busy recording all those symptoms. When I finally go so tired that I stopped, I realized that I was covered in sweat and dust, feeling all crudy. The shower felt wonderful, and I will have one less thing to do in the morning. I am amazed how soft my hair is without product in it.

So tonight I'm all comfy on my bed enjoying another glass of Poweraide and thinking about the half gallon of sugar free ice cream in the freezer.

Physical and Spiritual

Physical: I was right, the monitor is a pain. I sweat profusely and I exercise.  When I do this it takes about five minutes for the electrodes and the sensor to detach from my skin. I bought some surgical tape to try and keep them on. It helps for about 30 minutes. The second issue was that the monitor beeped all night alerting me that it needed me to do something.  Kind of like having a newborn in the house. I am too old and infirm to be nursing a newborn. I have had too many episodes to report to keep count of, and at other times I see the monitor light up as it is reporting something that I either didn't feel or I thought was too insignificant to record. Oh My! This is going to be a long month.

Spiritual: Satan was active at church this morning. The sermon was an excellent sermon from my favorite Elder. I so wish that they had called off Promised Land from 5th - Jr. High. It was a message that would have been easy for these kids to understand and assimilate into their lives. The teens stay in the sanctuary during the service, so I was glad they heard it. Satan's work actually began Wednesday night during the band practice. A novice presenter had decided to pull the songs together. She has some developmental limitations that cause her to be highly distractable and there must have been something going on that distracted her. She messed up several of the established song presentations that had us scrambling this morning to correct and caused some slip-ups during service. She doesn't process emotions well and the mistakes were causing her a lot of guilt. I did my best to show her how the errors could have been easily made and that everyone on the team makes those errors. It is nothing to feel guilty about and that only Satan wanted her to feel bad about it. I was able to tie this into Scott's sermon about how even Jesus was tempted by Satan. And that as we rely on God, He himself offers a way of escape from these temptations. We, being human will fall and make mistakes. When that happens, Satan uses that as an opportunity to accuse us and cause us to feel shame. But God doesn't accuse us and we do not have to beg for forgiveness from Him, because we are already in Him. We only need to confess our sin and we are cleansed from unrighteousness. That God uses this process to grow us up in His grace. I assured her that we are all going to make mistakes and the only thing we need to do is correct those mistakes when we find them. And that I did not ever want her to feel guilty or discouraged because of a mistake. She seemed happier when she left. But that wasn't the only thing that was going on. There were issues with the lighting, the shades and the sound. At one point the band had to stop and start over because the vocalist and the instrumentalist weren't in the same place. I think it was because Scott's message was so powerful and Satan wanted to distract everyone from what he was saying. At least I know that God was able to use those mistakes to draw that mistake into our presenter's life.

Have a happy and blessed week.

Wired

LifeWatch LifeStar ACT III

My heart monitor arrived yesterday via FedEx. I spent the hour before the Come to the Well Tour concert reading the instruction book trying to find out how much of a pain this thing is going to be. Even before trying it out, I knew that I am going to loose my mind and swear a lot over the next month. The first clue was the size of the sensor unit. While not weighty, it is easily the size of my palm. It will not be easy to conceal this beneath my clothing. The cell phone monitor is weighty and large. It is a half inch larger than my cell phone and twice as thick. It comes with a bulky belt holder that will not hide beneath clothing. I'm going to look all important like the managers at work and carry around 2 blackberries. The instruction book warns that if you exercise regularly or sweat profusely you will need special pads that LifeWatch will send when requested. This is the south y'all. I need the special pads.

The LifeStar ACT works on bluetooth technology. It has 4 color coded electrodes that are placed via pads to specific places on my chest. The electrodes are attached to a bluetooth sensor that sends the ECG readings to a cell phone monitor. The monitor sends the ECG to a monitoring station though wireless transmission. The experts at the monitoring station will send Dr. K a report everyday of  my ECG readings. If they see something that is emergent they will call Dr. K and then me on the cell phone monitor. So for a month the secrets of my wicked heart are not my own. Kind of a creepy idea.

This morning after my bath I called to activate the monitor and order the special pads for people who sweat. The representative that I spoke with was very nice and helpful in getting the electrodes placed, the monitor activated and showing me how to send event messages. The special pads will arrive at the office (unfortunately via the F company) in two days. Until then, I am stuck with the pads for cool dry people.

So far, I had palpitations while driving that I was afraid to text while driving about. Not to worry, the cell phone would still send the event, but I couldn't send them a text about. I have dislodged both the sensor and the black electrode and sent 2 messages regarding chest pain and one for palpitations. I am off to an inglorious start.  I can tell it is going to be a long month.

Dr. R

I had been expecting today's visit to be intense, but I was not expecting what happened. The first thing was that my blood pressure decided to give Dr. R a live example of what it was doing while I was in the hospital. The first reading done by L was 186/111. Kinda up in the OH SHIT! range. The five consecutive readings were equally high. Considering that on three blood pressure medications my blood pressure is usually maintained in the normal to low pre-hypertensive range. That was Dr. R's chief concern today. We discussed what had happened in the hospital, and he explained that he felt that the reason they didn't find anything at the hospital was because the doctors were looking for a plumbing problem and not an electrical problem. He said that the pain could have been caused by the palpitations that I was having. He is glad that Dr. K is having me wear a monitor. He told me that he is changing my lisinopril to lisinopril/hydrochlorthiazide. I told him that I don't tolerate hydrochlorthiazide well and he explained to me that he feels the combination of lisinopril and spironolactone will keep my potassium levels reasonable. He said that the only other choice is to add a channel blocker and that could complicate the LQTS. So I'm going to try it for a week and go back to have blood drawn to check potassium levels and to check my blood pressure. He also told me to not consume caffeine, no more Coke Zero. We also discussed the hyper-coagulation and that thrombosis runs in my family. He decided to repeat the d-dimer.

The blood draw was rough this time too. S hit the vein, but the blood refused to flow freely. I wonder if that was the thick blood. She had to start two more times to finally find a vein that would bleed. I have three large purple bruises to show for it.

Back to back, two really rough appointments. This is very disappointing. I changed my diet. I lost 52 pounds. I take my pills the way I'm supposed to. I don't smoke. I exercise. I go to the doctor when I'm supposed to. I don't get it. I do what I'm supposed to do to control my blood pressure and my arrhythmia, and still my heart wants to circle the drain. So tonight on the way home I will stop by the pharmacy to pick up one more pill to add to my big bag of pills. I will have to listen to my brother and sister complain that I'm doing exactly what Daddy did. And they would be right except my father rarely got exercise. He smoked at least a pack a day. He didn't even try to lose weight and had no interest in changing his diet. He frequently skipped doctor appointments and would let his pills run out, or just refused to take some of them. Still, he died of an inherited condition.

OH! What a day!

The day started with the knowledge that Andrew, my carpool partner was coming. His father-in-law was on life support, and I was amazed that he had made it through the weekend. We talked on the way to work about the hard decision that Anne, his wife, had before her. It seems that the rest of the family was frustrated that she could not come to terms with the fact that her father was essentially dead. But if you stand back, if you aren't involved, you see that Anne has to make the decision to literally end her father's life. She has to be at a place where she can accept that decision and not judge herself, not feel guilty about it. The thought shakes me to the core. Andrew was handling it admirably. I suggested that maybe a hospice worker would be able to help Anne cope with the burden on her shoulders. He agreed. I can't even imagine the pain that she was going through.

Andrew dropped me off at my cardiologist's office and even offered to pick me up. Secretly, I knew he would. Andrew is probably the nicest guy I know. I waited in the sandwich shop for the office to open. I think I pissed the proprietor off because I only bought a soft drink and not a muffin. To bad. The guy overcharged me a few times and I don't feel bad. Hey, I don't eat gluten, so why would I buy a muffin?

The appointment with Dr. K didn't go well. Apparently there was an issue with my ekg and he was nervous about my recent hospitalization and symptoms since. He has ordered a monitor for me that I will be wearing for a month...what fun. :0(. Not liking that outcome at all. So tomorrow I need to go tell Dr. R that not only has J referred to pheochromocytocis for two office visits, but Dr. K wants a Ambulatory Cardiac Telemetry test as well...:0(. Okay, I can't believe that I have relied on emoticons in two successive sentences now...time to move on.

Back at the office, my desk was piled high with urgent stuff that probably only became urgent because I sent out an email telling every one that I'd be coming in late. Lent manager even sent an email saying "I didn't know if you'd be in." Really? I said I'd be in at 10:30. My morning was off to a rough start that only got rougher when Andrew came to tell me that the decision had been made, they were going to remove Anne's father from life support. He was stiff upper lip emotional, and I told him that I'd work out my situation and to go. So I spent a lot of time the rest of the day arranging a ride home. In the end my sister came and got me.

I had enough work to keep me busy for the rest of the day and the diversity manager was in crisis mode. She needed to go to report back, but needed to have a few things coordinated too. She put them on my plate, and they were easily handled. I love it when I can do minimum and look like a hero.

I still needed a ride home. My sister was the answer, but it was complicated. I told her that I could leave whatever time she could get me. After Report Back was a reception which is one of the very rare times that alcohol is ever served on UPS campus. It is just not a part of the culture. The food was outstanding and the company great. I had no trouble waiting for my sister in this setting. I was enjoying the food and the conversation with co-workers and even getting to know a few that I don't work regularly with when the CCO came up to our table. For some reason no one else at our table greeted her. I think that it was because at the time the were all engrossed in deep conversations. I acknowledged her with a smile and a congenial "Hi". She seemed relieved to be brought into the group. She even acknowledged me as she was thanking the group. I was a little nervous when I was waiting for a phone call from my sister and was trapped on the front row as the CCO introduced the CEO of the company. Luckily he gave a short maybe 10 minute speech and we were all released to enjoy the rest of the reception. I left at that point and was preparing to leave when my sister called telling me that she was there. Believe me when I tell you, she was the most welcome face of the day.

Andrew will be out the rest of the week and probably a few days next week. Life is not good without my carpool buddy. Like I have eluded to before, I truly like him. It's too bad that he isn't 15 years older and single. But for Dr. R's appointments tomorrow I will have my brother's car. (his suggestion not mine) It's a long story and if I don't go to bed soon...well old people have trouble getting up on time.

So I have gone back to my father's medical records. They really are a gold mine when it comes to understanding what is going on with me. It really shows me that genetically I am my father's daughter. In the least I can go in and tell the doctor tomorrow that thrombosis occurs in our family. I know he'd never want me to see these records and would fear that I'd judge him. But I wouldn't. I know that  day to day life is a struggle on it's own. Satisfaction  or pleasure where ever it comes from is comforting. We all seek it. It is the thing that counteracts and then complicates stress in our lives.

So we end with 2 fathers. Mine and Anne's. I know how hard it is to say goodbye. So if you read this, please pray for Anne, and Andrew and Jennifer and Robin and Kyle. They just lost a beloved member of their family.

Cardiology Tomorrow

Post cardiac hospital appointments with my cardiologist are the hardest for me. I absolutely expect Dr. K to come into the room asking what is going on with my heart, knowing that he has the test results and knows more than I could ever Google. I'm going to have to tell him that I've had 2 appointments with J from Dr. B's office where she mentioned Pheochromcytoma's and after Googling Hypercoagulable States I think that they should be looking at Antiphospholipid Antibody Syndrome. I don't usually try to play my own doctor, but either diagnosis could well be true. Then on Wednesday I have the appointment with Dr. R who will inevitably treat whatever is happening and I don't want to suggest a diagnosis, either J's or mine. I would so much prefer him to look at the records and tell me that nothing is wrong, go home. But I can't read those symptoms and think that I'm going to come out with a good diagnosis over the next two days. I'm not ready for another OH SHIT!!! diagnosis. Can someone tell me when enough is enough? When do I reach my quota of OH SHIT? Then I read this post from a young woman struggling to raise children without much back-up help. Her mother-in-law is in the final stages of disease after struggling with breast cancer for eight years, and I feel humbled. I survived for eight years. It grounds me back to earth. Nothing has been great, but nothing has been Alexander's terrible awful, no good day either.

Into tomorrow I go.

Poems from long ago

I found a shoe box filled with papers from long ago. Some of them were poems that I wrote or I identified with so much that I copied down to keep for always. They were from different phases of my young life so unless I have a strong memory of the circumstances of writing it I couldn't tell you when I wrote it. If someone else wrote it I usually wrote the name of the author at the bottom. If I wrote it I usually didn't sign it. When I was in high school I was on the staff of the literary magazine, so at that time I was pouring out sappy poems at a rapid pace. And then there were other poems that were written as class assignments. I can't remember them all and I didn't keep all of them. I don't really write poetry anymore. I think that is something that a lifetime of depression has stolen from me. Maybe I should try to take it back. But there was one poem in the shoe box that wasn't attributed to another author, but I don't remember writing. It echo's my early school days, and maybe I wrote it in 4th or 5th grade but I am nervous about claiming it as mine. It goes like this:

One shouting at me.

Two laughing at me.

Three saying they'd rather be,

Four playing without me.

Five, and not one is me.

When I said a lifetime of depression I meant it. The first time I can recall being so deeply sad that I'd call it depression I was five years old. I don't have a ton of readers, but if those who do read this will let me know if you have ever come across this poem and who wrote it, that would be greatly appreciated.

As a point of reference this is a poem that I wrote about my mother after she died.

I can still recall your face,

that time by grace has not erased.

I still feel your hand upon my head,

as you tucked me into bed. 

I'm grateful now that in this place,

I can still recall your face.

I pray that time by grace, will not erase,
the loving image of your face.

I love you Mom forever. I'm looking forward to forever 

Another burr in my hide

Several years ago I had the manager from hell (MFH). She insisted that I go on intermittent FMLA, and against my will I did. The only value of it to me was job protection. No one would be able to judge my job performance by my attendance. However, when review time came up the question of my punctuality (skewed because of early appointments) and attendence (skewed by FMLA covered health events) was graded. I objected, but was shot down not only by MFH but by the POS HR person assigned to our group. A few years later MFH insisted again that I go on FMLA. I patently refused. Why should I go through that effort if it wasn't going to benefit me?  A big stink was raised about it and it made it's way to HR. We had a new HR representative who looked at my evidence of abuse and shot MFH down. A few months after that she was strongly recommended to retire. I don't know if that situation had anything to do with it. Fast forward to last year when manager from Heaven and supervisor from Heaven asked me to  take intermittent FMLA. I explained and showed records attesting to the fact that in my opinion it wasn't worth the effort. They assured me that the situation wouldn't happen again. The are the MFHeaven and the SFH so I reluctantly took their word for it.

Screech into today. I had a performance review, the one that influences my pay increase for this year. Over all it was positive. But the one significant area of regression was in attendance and punctuality. I have had a lot of health issues come to the surface lately. According to FMLA, that question should not have even been allowed. That is the only benefit that I derived from taking intermittent FMLA in the first place. And I had been promised that this wouldn't happen again. It did. I objected. SFH at first tried to skirt around it but then consented to talking to HR about the situation. I don't want to step on her head. I truly love working with her. This is a really good job situation for me. I didn't call HR today. But thinking about it tonight, I can't see how this stance is in my best interest. I am walking it down to HR tomorrow. If this isn't addressed, in the least I will never pursue intermittent FMLA again. It's worthless.

Irritable

I don't know why, I am just irritable today. It might be that I stayed up late last night to hear how things were going with Jack. He fell out of the bathtub last night and had to have a CT scan and get Factor VIII. The scan showed that there was no bleed so it was just a scare. I'm glad he's fine; sorry that he had to go through so much to find that out.

I put a post here last night, but after reading it today I decided that if certain members of my family read it  that they might think I had misrepresented some of what I said. I don't think that I did, but I was barely four years old when the things I wrote about happened and it is all together possible that I misunderstood the situation. I moved that post to my private blog and erased it from here.

While I was changing that post read a few of the blogs I am following and it has me contemplating the method I use to blog. I read one blogger whom I think sometimes gets a little high maintenance and was very put off. Then I read another blog post where the writer was complaining about what is happening with his industry. Then I read a blog where the writer tends to write feel good stories about the things that are happening around her. She sometimes complains, but that is rare. Overall, she's just a good storyteller. Today I felt her story was uplifting and funny. My blog has been a little on the dark side lately.   The things I'm writing about are neither funny or uplifting, mainly they are venting steam regarding the state of my health. I suppose this is what the blog was meant to do. But I don't feel it is very interesting or effective. Some blogs like Sixuntilme educate people about diseases, mine tends to just complain about them. I'd like to write about more positive things and maybe distill more factual information, but then that would change the reason I'm writing this blog in the first place. So working through all that I thought about my annoyance of the first two blogs that I read and realized that maybe the reason the author is writing them is to have a safe place to work out the stickiness of their lives. Maybe I shouldn't be judging them so harshly.

As I said, I'm just irritable today. The biggest pet peeve that I have is being interrupted. I think that it is disrespectful. It says to the person "you and your ideas are inferior to what I have to say." At church this morning every conversation I was in was interrupted by someone. Friends would be talking to me and someone else would come up and begin a different conversation. One actually took my friend by the shoulders and turned her around to exclude me from the conversation. Just totally rude. I didn't really want to be drawn into the situation that we were discussing anyway, but still that is just rude. The other part of that irritation was that I was drawn into that situation by everyone involved and there was absolutely no reason for me to be part of it.

The point of this post I guess is to get some of the burrs out of my hide so I can be more patient with people and not easily offended. That happened today too. Someone wrote a Facebook comment that I'd misread and decided not to respond to. It's a good thing that I made that decision because a few comments later the true intent came to light and the person wasn't saying what I thought they were.

Maybe I should go work on my genealogy. I doubt people living hundreds of years ago can do much to insult me.

And if you think the things in this post are random, they are. I will probably try to make it more cohesive later but for now I'm just getting the thoughts out of my head.

Wicked

That is the name of the book I was reading eight years ago. The last movie I saw was The Passions of the Christ. How do I remember that you might ask, because it was a pivotal moment in my life. Eight years ago today I was told that I had cancer, and not only that I had cancer,  but it was late stage and my doctors were sure that it had invaded my entire body.



How much white space do you leave for a message like that? I had an 11 year old daughter who two days before had curled up in the closed weeping "Why does everyone leave me?" And I had to tell her that Mommy might be leaving too.

But my church stepped in. They aren't and ordinary church. They seem to know that we are a body of sinners attempting to be the body of Christ through His strength. They took care of my daughter and me even to the point of moving us into one of the pastors house and arranging transportation to doctors appointments. There was a part of me that felt like after that I'd used up my quota of grace...not true.  They still love my daughter and me. They still are concerned when I'm ill and protect my daughter.

It's been eight years. I have been diagnosed with other life threatening diseases, but as of today the outlook for cancer is NED. I may die soon of other things, but it isn't likely to be cancer.

I believe in the hands and feet of Christ. I believe that no matter what happens I have a hope and a future. I believe that God Himself holds the future of my daughter in his hands. I am not worried. But I am affected by it. I puzzle over it and I do not relish the idea of the process of death. I just know that once it comes I know the where I'll be.

Answered Prayer

I have been concerned about my grandson's spiritual life. My son and his wife don't go to church and God isn't discussed much in their home. So I was afraid that the boys would grow up not learning about God. It's very important to me that they at least are told about God. I have been praying for a while that the Holy Spirit would move Matt into wanting to go to church with the boys.

Today Nina called me and asked if I wanted to Skype with the boys tonight. She bought Clifton a new book and he wanted to read to me before he went to bed. Getting home in time to Skype with them was a challenge. After going to the gym I still needed to pick up a prescription, and yes there was a long line at the pharmacy. The guy at the counter stood and chatted for at least 15 minutes oblivious to the fact that there was a line behind him that was getting perilously toward the door. It took a long time to get done with that task. Then I needed to pick up some money from the bank. The line to the ATM machines was 4 deep. I think the same guy from the pharmacy had the same chore list that I did. There are 2 machines at the bank and he was at the second one, blocking access to the first machine. I don't know how many transactions he did, but he took a really long time to get done. While he was taking his time I turned on the computer so that I'd be ready just in case they called early. After I finished at the bank I got out onto the main road only to realize that there was an accident blocking the intersection looking at the clock it was getting very close to the time for the call. I was able to get into a grocery store parking lot just in the nick of time.  Clifton was sitting in front of the computer and as soon as he saw me he picked up his new book and said "Look Nana, I've got a Bible." Then he read me Genesis Chapter 1 to me. Toni got on and showed me that he can count to ten both forward and backwards.

I was floored by God's answer to my concern. Maybe they aren't going to Sunday school, but they are at least learning about God, and that is really what was at the heart of my prayer.

Here's the deal

I really want to focus on HAWMC Challenge month, but I have so much going on. The start is so much going on at work. I have a 23 person move combined with a department cleaning event to get us into compliance with our records retention schedule and two major meetings all in the same week. Add to that extracurricular meetings for the Health Fair and it was a tight week. But then add the stress of missing four days during that time due to health concerns and you have my life. I can't really focus on HAWMC...I'm sad.

The real challenge is all that's going on medically. I really don't have any answers yet. I saw J at Dr. B's on Tuesday. After listening to all that I had to report and seeing the reports that I presented, she took me off Metformin altogether and told me not to attempt a diet until I was seen by other doctors. She also told me to call Dr. R and let him know what was going on. She suggested that I ask him if he wants me to do anything until I see him. His office responded to continue the aspirin therapy that I'd been on since the hospital and see them at my scheduled appointment in two weeks, which I am glad for. I am not glad to have to go back to Dr. B's or to Dr. K's without knowing what Dr. R has to say. I am doing much better without the Metformin, but I'm also wanting to eat Krispy Kremes...the meds really do help.

I somehow am anxious for and also dread the April 25 appointment with Dr. R. I am equating it with my April 14th breast cancer diagnosis emotion. Dr. Google has me very upset by what I might hear. Researching sludgy blood and thick blood got me to every alternative medicine site on the web. They all have a special diet  along with special supplements that you can't buy anywhere else. And the real beauty is that it will return you to perfect health no matter what health problems you have. It's individualized just for you. Don't forget to read the testimonials of suckers satisfied patients. It wasn't until I picked up the term hypercoaguable states that I got safely back to Mayo.com and Webmd. What I learned is that having thick blood is pretty serious and it is unlikely that anything I'm doing is causing it. The things that people can do to cause it, I don't do, like take birth control pills. So it is most likely being caused by an inherited condition (my sister had a stroke last year) or by an autoimmune condition, which I have several. It could be either or both. From what I'm reading on the web, it's not something that I need. The web tells of disability and death caused by repeated emboli and catastrophic bleeding. Death I'm kind of cool with. I've gotten over the idea of my immortality but I'm having issues with the disabilities. A wonderful blogger and fellow sister survivor writes in her blog Telling Knots about what it's like to live, accepting death but fearing the time when we can no longer take care of ourselves. She eloquently describes what it's like to live this death. I'm terrified of the idea of a major stroke taking away my ability to move or reason or communicate. I don't want to live like that. At the same time after hearing horror stories about coumadin and plavix, I fear taking them. I'm quite happy with the aspirin therapy and I want to leave things the way they are. And as petty as this is, I am humiliated by the list of diagnosis's that I have and don't want Dr. R adding anything else too it. It's not like when I gave it to the paramedics and doctors at the hospital, they took it seriously. Really, it gave them the impression that I am a hypochondriac rather than someone who suffers from multiple chronic illness's. But there is a small part of me that fears that I'm going to walk into Dr. R's office and he's going to say "relax, this is nothing" and not take it seriously. I wish when I was in the hospital I had understood enough about what the ER doctor was saying to ask questions like "just how thick is my blood or how serious is this?" Next time I will ask even if I think it's an odd finding or that they are making something up.

Why I Blog...HAWMC Challenge, Day 4

I have journaled since I was able to write incoherent sentences. As a child, I don't remember ever being without a locked diary underneath my mattress. When I found internet diaries, it was at a time in my life when I was in such deep distress and in such ultimate pain, I felt that it would be kinder to be dead than to continue living in the misery that my life had become. And as it always has done, journaling was a way to overcome my despair and work my way out of depression. But my reprieve didn't last long. The invasion of Iraq threw me into another kind of stress just as powerful as the divorce that had me already blogging. My teenage son, fresh out of Advanced Infantry Training was fighting his way through a desert of fanatics. My original blog became about being a military mom, then without skipping a heartbeat, no sooner had he come home than I was diagnosed with breast cancer and the shift to writing about my treatments was a natural occurrence.  I never questioned if I should or shouldn't share this with a virtual audience. I just did because it is the way I process and the way I stay sane. I do sometimes worry about the way I come across, and I too angry or whiny or do some people just wish I'd just put on my big girl panties and get over it. But the truth is that I'm not writing for them, I'm writing for me. I need this to keep accepting the next step that I must take in this journey. 

HAWMC Challenge: Super Powers

"Superpower Day. If you had a superpower – what would it be? How would you use it?"

It would be the power to change the attitude of people who are clearly self righteously judgmental. I would use it to change their attitude. No very deep, I know. It's the best I can do tonight.

HAWMC Challenge, Day 2: Quotes

Quotation Inspiration. Find a quote that inspires you (either positively or negatively) and free write about it for 15 minutes.


"It is with disease of the mind, as with those of the body; we are half dead before we understand our disorder, and half cured when we do."  C. C. Colton

This is especially true with me and I'm looking at the quote from so many angles it is difficult to know where to begin. Very few of my afflictions have had straight forward answers. It seems that even doctors working together seem to disagree with what is causing any particular set of symptoms. I think the only straight forward diagnosis that I've ever gotten outside of pregnancy was breast cancer. Even LQTS has been debated. Even this past weekend one of the cardiologist came in and said " We aren't seeing any evidence of an arrhythmia, who told you that you had LQTS.  When I told them Dr. K, they immediately backed off and said well, he works with us and will review your ecg's. I already knew this. But the thing is they all seem to dis the other's work.


The other side of this is even when they tell me a solid diagnosis, like the pernicious anemia that I have recently been diagnosed with, I google it to death trying to understand what is going on with my body. When I finally feel that I can understand what is happening with me, I feel as if maybe I can make the best of what I can do to control whatever it is. 


And my 15 minutes are up and I don't feel that I have adequately described what I feel about that quote.

Wego Health HAWMC Challenge again

"Pretend you’re making a time capsule of you & your health focus that won’t be opened until 2112. What’s in it? What would people think of it when they found it?"

It's April again and time for the HAWMC challenge. I had a good time with it last year, but it really was a challenge. So here I go again...

I made a few time capsules as a child. I would place small items in Mason jars and bury them in the back yard. They contained small items like plastic rings won at the Halloween Carnival at school, or diary entries. I imagined that in future years archaeologists would dig them up and gain insight into the world of the 1960's. I know, fat chance. But I do wonder what they would have thought about the baggy of Tang and the Space Food Stick that I placed in one.

With so many challenges, I think that I would have to in the least put in a treatment plan for Breast Cancer and maybe the booklet "Why I still buy green bananas", a syringe and a vial of Vitamin B-12, the list I carry of all my essential medical information, a medical alert necklace, a glucose monitor kit, maybe one of every pill I take and a copy of one of my ecg's.

I'm pretty sure that in the next few years breast cancer will not only be easily treatable, but also preventable for most women. I plan to blog about the day we can take down the pink ribbons and let the rest of the disease world take the stage. But we aren't there yet, and I don't plan to stop until the Race for the Cure is no longer needed.

Lately, my medical trials have included a few new autoimmune diseases. It looks like my body isn't satisfied with the crappy end of the gene pool that I sit in, it feels that it has to attack itself as well. It amazes me that my immune system wasn't strong enough to fight off cancer cells, but it is making short order of it's own natural cells. I would hope that by 2112 they will have found an effective way to keep the body from destroying normal healthy cells.

And I hope that the science of stem cells will have advanced enough that they can reverse heart disease and diabetes and all the wonderful promises that it contains.

But the real truth is that I firmly believe that we aren't meant for this world. We aren't meant to be here indefinitely. I have a friend who has recently been told that she is in stage 4 Lymphoma. Like me she knows that she will soon be returning Home. She isn't afraid of dying because she knows that she will be returning to Jesus where she does belong, she is just afraid of the process of dying. What I really hope for the year 2112 is that the taboo of discussing death will be lifted and we can approach it in a much more calm and effective manner. Unfortunately, I can't put that in a jar that I can bury.