Serendipity Is My Stripper Name

It's been a rough couple of weeks. Hell, it's been a rough couple of years. 2011 did its very best to kick my ass, but somehow I kept going. I've been through so many surgeries and scary tests. Last year alone I was under some form of anesthesia 11 times. ELEVEN times.

I just had my second set of shots in C6 this last Tuesday. The first set (about a month ago) were epidural steroid injections. Meant to inject steroid and pain relievers into the epidural space in my spinal column. This last set was meant to inject steroid and anesthetic in the facet joints at C6, or to most people ....that spot at the bottom of your neck, just about where the bumpy vertebrae is. The doc injects into my spine on both sides and I'm supposed to be sedated, but I wasn't really. Wrong drugs or not enough, but I was awake this time, and it frickin hurt.

Fast forward 3 days and now I have yet another infection and I end up in my primary care doc's office (herefore known as my PCM) to get antibiotics today. On top of that, I got told today that I was "severely dehydrated" and fussed at by the nurse to drink more water. Not so dehydrated that it was admit me and stick another IV in me, but dehydrated none the less.

I bawled all the way off base. (Probably not the best thing to do if I'm already dehydrated but oh well.) I was just so tired of fighting with a body that clearly hates me. It's been one thing after another for the last 10 years. And I'm never going to get "better". I have a chronic, severe, progressive, degenerative (is that enough adjectives?) disease that will end in my death. I'm one more bad case of pneumonia from being dead at any time. And I have shit for an immune system. I was just so overwhelmed and tired of fighting with it *all* *the* *damn* *time*. 

I cried as I drove off the base (between that and the days that I'm car dancing, it's great fun to be next to me in traffic) and though to myself "what's the point of fighting all this?". I fight every day. In between raising 3 kids and being married to the Navy, I fight with my own body, every single day. Once in a while it gets a good shot in, but I win on a lot of the days.

But sometimes it's just really hard and I get whiny (yes, like now) and overwhelmed and once in a great while, I feel like giving up.

But as luck would have it....

...tonight was family pizza-and-movie night. And we (or they) decided to watch "We Bought A Zoo" because my oldest saw it in the theatre and recommended it to all of us so we put it on our Netflix and it came in today.

In case you haven't seen the movie (and without giving it away in case you do want to see it), it's about a guy struggling to put the pieces back together and raise his kids after his wife gets sick (we assume cancer in the movie) and dies.

It really put a few things into perspective for me, not the least of which is how my family will put themselves back together when I do go. Understanding that gave me the courage to fight for one more day.

Because, really, when you think about it all you need is a little bit of courage sometimes. Just enough to get you through that moment.

~Benjamin Mee (We Bought A Zoo)

And the truth is this can apply in every area of our lives. I haven't been writing. P says for me writing is like breathing, and I *need* to write. But I haven't been and part of the reason why is because I keep psyching myself out with fear of failure....or success.

I watch people around me struggling with their own demons. But I'm telling you....just be brave for 20 seconds. Crazy, insane, hopelessly brave for just those few seconds when you really, really need it. And watch what happens. 

Prayers & Hope & What the hell do you do....

I got a phone call from my step-dad today. He was calling for a couple of reasons. One was to update me on his condition. He's fighting cancer and it's not looking good. It's in his lung and now in the bone in his arm. I'm scared to death that I'm gonna lose the only guy that's ever stuck around for more than a couple of years. So if you have an extra prayer in you or some positive energy or good karma or whatever you can send up, it would really mean a lot. Right now I'm seeing a trip out to Hawaii to see him before I can't anymore on the horizon.

I haven't been out there in five years. Partly because my mother and I don't talk anymore. I haven't talked to my mother in almost a year and a half. And it's impossible to explain to anybody that hasn't been in my life in close quarters what happened or how my mother and I got to this place. But I guess the easiest way to put it is that I just can't have her hurting me the way that she has anymore.

But trying to explain that she does things that most people can't understand is hard. The general consensus is "that's your MOM", but I argue that the ability to pop out a kid does not immediately make one a better person. You are who you are whether you poop out a kid or not. And sometimes you can rise up to the challenges of raising people, sometimes not. And sometimes you're just really messed up like my mother and need some help.



The point of all this rattling on is that my mother , anything to do with my mother right now, causes me a lot of stress and anxiety. And I don't know what to do. I keep waiting for her to reach out and get the help she needs, but according to my step-dad she's doing even worse than she was last year. She's left him and gone "home" to the state she grew up in. But you can't go home. Nothing is the same anymore. And she's losing friends. I guess she needs some prayers too come to think of it.

I know that I don't usually reveal so much in my blogging but like I said, anything to do with my mother instigates anxiety right now. So I'm writing it out and hoping for prayers for my step-dad and inspiration or maybe just the ability to breathe when it comes to my mother.

“After careful consideration and many sleepless nights, here’s what I’ve decided: There’s no such thing as a grown-up. We move out, we move away from our families. But the basic insecurities, the fears and all the old wounds just grow up with us. Just when you think life has forced you to truly become an adult, your mother says something like that. We get bigger, taller, older. But, for the most part, we’re still a bunch of kids, running around the playground, trying desperately to fit in.”

—	Meredith, Grey’s Anatomy

I had no idea....

"I had no idea that the night would take so damn long..."

So, my darling readers, how do you figure out how to live with somebody in your head that doesn't go away? Everything I have seen in our society tells me that they should eventually go away, but they haven't yet. Years have passed and they are still there, still inside of me.....my heart, my mind. How do you deal with that?

I started my book. I'm so proud of the fact that I have a working title, characters that are named, and a scenario. It's coming together and some times I feel like I'm pushing myself pretty hard because my goal is to have this damn book written by the end of the year. I have a story to tell and it's time to figure out how to write it. But the problem lately is that I seem to be spending a lot of time inside of song lyrics. I almost wish I could write music instead of ....well, whatever it is that I'm writing sometimes. I'm great with poetry, which I guess is pretty close to music but I'm missing the ability to create rhythm.

But so much of what's in my head, so much of what's in my soul, exists in lyrics.....
"But in another life, I would be your girl. We'd keep all our promises, be us against the world..."

"And my mates are all there trying to calm me down, Cause I'm shouting your name all over town...."

" Light up, light up, as if you have a choice, even if you cannot hear my voice..."

And we won't even get into all the other noise that's in there....a lot of Skrillex, E Nomine. It depends on the day, but there's always a song playing in my head. My own personal soundtrack? How awesome would it be if I could figure out how to broadcast all the music inside of me? But if you know me at all, it would almost be like walking around naked. Everything that I am would be exposed. Maybe that's too much.

I've been writing a blog in my head for a week but it keeps changing, which is why this one is probably bouncing all over the place. But the idea I wanted to regurgitate into my keyboard was pondering the idea of living with somebody in my head that is still there after a lot of time. Whether I want them or not, there they are. Sometimes in the back, in the dark. Quiet. Sometimes they make a lot of noise and I feel like if I close my eyes I can almost touch them.

Do you ever really lose somebody, even if they walk out of your life?

more to come...

It's been a rough month or two in Xunnie's house...there's a lot going on.



Today needed a song like this. And when I get it together enough to comment on the rest, I'll publish more....

Happy New (Leap) Year!!

Ah, 2012...you're finally here! How nice to see you! You look wonderful, not even a day old yet! So, would you like some resolutions or something? No? You're sure? I'm sure I can dig around and find something for you to nibble on. No? Fabulous.

Well, let's get started then, shall we? I really am so happy to see you. I just know that we're going to be good friends. 2011 and I parted amicably enough. I packed up the good stuff and left behind the bad stuff. I let her keep the heartache and frustration and I took the love and hope. Seems fair, right?

I hope you'll help me be healthier and I'm going to do my part to be happier. Could you just give me a little push once in a while if I need it? I knew you would! I'd really love some inspiration and if you could spare just a little bit of extra time to write that would really be awesome.

I know you don't want resolutions but I'd like to offer a couple of goals if that would be okay? Yes? Oh thank you! I would like to get my book written by the end of the year. 2011 gave me a little inspiration by way of seeing my friends push themselves (that means you, BeFri :) ) to get a book written. Could you go with that and inspire me? Help me find the words? I've finally found the right style for telling the story I want to tell and I've even named my characters! I'm so excited to see them make their way through my story.

I'd like to get to a maintenance phase with my health care. I know I'm never going to be "better" but I want to be healthier and more able-bodied if you don't mind. No more crazy doctors that take up way too many days in my month for tests and appointments and ....just no more. Please?

I know I'm not doing anything major this year. No having babies or getting married or buying a house. You and I are just gonna hang out this year and love our kids, educate my youngest, write my book, and just have a year without any insanity in it. How does that sound?

Oh!! And I'd really, really love a road trip to New England this year. Massachusetts and maybe even a little Maine if we can squeeze it in. That's my Heaven.

And finally....2012? Would you please look out for our forward deployed soldiers and sailors? Could you bring them home safely please? This war has gone on too long and I'd love to see those that have already sacrificed too much be able to come home. Please watch over those that need a little extra love. Thank you, 2012.

I have to go. I have to go. Where the &^%$ does everybody have to go?

It's been a hell of a year. People that I thought would be in my life, people I love, have drifted away. I've had several procedures, surgeries, and lots of tests. My "best" friends have vanished, my parents are gone. I feel so alone and I can't figure out what the hell just happened most of the time.

There's a line in the movie "Gia" that keep playing through my head. She says " everybody that I love keeps going away from me....and it hurts". She's this beautiful supermodel that has the whole world at her finger tips, but all she wants is just to have somebody stay with her, love her. I'm never going to be a super model, and I definitely don't have the world at my beck and call, but all I want is to be loved. That's all anybody wants.

The new acceptable attitude is just to "be positive" and be friggin' overjoyed to be alive. I don't do bright and shiny; I never have. But I know what it feels like to find the joy in a moment. It just sneaks up on you and suddenly, you're alive and in that moment with everything you are, and inside of what joy really is. I know how that feels. I have had those moments. Those moments when you are just....happy, really really happy.

I'm not an unhappy person, but I'm just not overly bright and shiny. And I believe that we all can't be happy and positive all the time. It's not good for you. People need to know it's okay to be frustrated or hurt or sad. They need to know that we all have a right to mourn change or loss. They need to be able to be real.

But what I'm seeing lately is that people move away from someone that might be working their way through anger and discovering what's behind it (I believe that anger is never a genuine emotion, it's like a curtain and you always have to investigate what's behind it and deal with *that* emotion....but that's another blog), or mourning a loss or a change in their lives. But all too often we're doing these things behind closed doors.

The society we live in have become all about the social facade. If you're not happy and spreading positivity, well....then people tend to have other things to do. And an awful lot of people are simply wrapped up in their own lives. I'm not seeing people reaching out to each other and caring about what you're going through. What happened to being there with your friends? Going through their rough times with them, and celebrating the good stuff together? We're closing up and moving away and letting go much too easily.

I've played the game of maintaining the social facade and it almost ended my life. I fell apart and went a little crazy for a few months. I thought about jumping off the bridge or swallowing a bottle of pills. Maintaining the social facade was not a good thing. And I swore I would never get wrapped up in trying to be somebody I wasn't ever again. What's that saying? I'd rather be hated for who I am that loved for someone I am not. Yeah.

But how do you say to someone...you hurt me? How do you reach out and say I need you to care about me and my stuff too? How do you reach out to someone in a society that have left us more closed off and closed minded than we all were 10 years ago? How do we reach out when we're all so afraid of being burned or ignored. How do we change the mindset of only being wrapped up in oneself?

I want to be involved with my friends and family. I want to care about what they are going through and have them care about what I'm doing too. But I feel like there has been some sort of explosion and when I looked up, the people that I thought were my people were gone. Poof. Just a whiff of smoke left and their scent and I'm standing here with my head ringing wondering what the hell just happened. Wondering where everybody has to go.

pain = learning

There was a line in "Private Practice" this week that made me pause, and I knew right away that it would end up as a blog. Shelton (one of the resident shrinks, if you're not familiar with the show) says to someone else.."Unfortunately human beings need pain to grow and learn". I stopped. I ran the words through my head. I went over the line one more time. Oh wow....this was what I needed to hear. Today. This week. This year. I needed to hear those words. Because for me it was almost like validation, or maybe just one more of the puzzle pieces I had found, finally.

In 37 years or so on the planet I have faced a lot. I have faced more than one lifetime's worth of hope, and love, and loss, and moments. My life to me, is now divided into two sections, two parts. My life before was healthier, stronger, I could dance and I could run. I was young and beautiful and strong. And I had never really known the kind of loss that rips through your soul and divides your world.

 In 2001 I lost a child. A little girl that weighed about 9 ounces and was born too young to breathe. I was that 1%, that unimaginable number, I was that one in a million.....and I lost my baby girl.

And it almost destroyed me. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. They delivered her to save me (long story, not the much fun to tell so we'll just skip to the pertinent parts). If I did sleep, I slept with the light on for the first 6 months. I had nightmares, 2,3,4 times a week for almost 18 months. My body was trying to deal with everything I had been put through, it was trying to regenerate lost blood and heal a broken heart. My mind and my soul just took a vacation because I was just a zombie for a good part of that first year
I went home after I was discharged, told to rest and let my body mend.

But my darling ,sweet husband came home more grateful that he hadn't lost his wife of less than 2 years. I've been contemplating that in the last few years. How hard that must have been. I was devastated and he was hurting for our loss, but he was grateful for getting to keep what he wanted more than anything else.



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We waited 9 months and after many long late night discussions, swaying from a yes to a we can't survive that again, we went with yes and tried one last time to have a child.  The docs answered up and said we had one more shot at a healthy baby, and then something drastic would need to happen to either P or I so that somebody's baby making ability was shut down, and we knew they were right. What needed to be taken care of was.

And it was a hhaarrdd pregnancy, I got tossed over to the high priority team, I was a "complicated OB patient " due to the fat that I had suffered two miscarriages after having two healthy children 10 years ago. I believe in miracles, and this is one of the reasons why: Dr. Cynthia Wilkes saved my life the first time. She was able to see the labs and the scans, and the charted meds and suddenly.........she saw what everybody missed and sent me to Straub's Trauma One Center. She couldn't be there at the very end, but she treated me post delivery. I went to see her a few weeks after delivery, telling her that I can't eat, or think. All the while, bawling my eyes out. She said one of the greatest things I have ever heard anyone say as a doctor, "I can not medicate it out of you, you have to grieve. You have to deal with this." At the time, I wondered if  could.

But with the woman's amazing hope and strength, she got me to 20 weeks through my final pregnancy.  And she was amazing. She never gave up on me. And I have a beautiful baby girl who is almost 9 now because of her unfailing ability as an OB.

My "before" is my life before the pregnancy in 2001 that almost killed me and claimed my baby girl. My "after" is the 10 years that have passed since that. My husband and I have faced the kinds of things that destroy people and tear apart marriages. And we did struggle because of these things. We did almost break down, but at the last minute, what really existed between us was still there by the skin of our teeth and we pulled ourselves and our marriage out from under it all.

Fast forward a few years and I'm smack in the middle of going through Chief's Induction with my husband, but he was 1,000 miles away. And the whole thing brought me to my knees.

The point in all of this is that people do indeed need pain to grow and learn. To me, that's an important piece of the puzzle because my life has been more difficult, more painful than a lot of other people that I know. My childhood was chaotic and hurtful. I have lost family and friends and dealt with the aftermath of a suicide, leaving me feeling guilty and so regretful. I have hurt. I have felt the kind of agony in your soul that would tear a person down. But, somehow, I'm still standing.

I believe that we come back. I believe that we come back until we get it right, and I believe that this is my last run through. This is my last time here. So I have a lot of things that I need to get right. I have a lot of things to learn, so I've had a lot of pain.