My Year of "Internal Voyages"

So, a friend recently suggested that my round of medical issues in these past few months could be 'Erma Bombeck' story worthy........I'm going to do a short review of those issues to see if there's any fodder worthy of that great woman's perspective - and could be expanded at a later date.

So, as last year was my 50th birthday and was a year full of 'great trips', I've designated this year (my 51st) as the year full of 'internal voyages'!

They started in February with scheduled surgery on my left shoulder.  I had hurt it the year before and tried several types of physical therapy to no avail.  And when I got to the point where I had to wear strapless bras because my shoulder hurt so much, I knew it was time to choose surgery.  I mean, a girl has to have her standards - and, damn it, strapless bras hurt!

The surgery was textbook simple - the doctor had to do less than he was anticipating, and I was back home by late afternoon.  I spent the first six week after that doing nothing with my left shoulder, keeping it holstered in a large, bulky sling, sleeping in the recliner in my living room.  (For those who have never had shoulder surgery, it takes a long time before you can lay flat on your back.)  At the end of those six weeks, I was given a simple stretching exercise to begin - and I thought I was going to die!!  It hurt so much - more, in fact, than I ever anticipated. But I kept it up - 3 times a day, and within two weeks, I moved on to Occupational Therapy at a local Rehab clinic.

My occupational therapist was great! (I actually went to him before surgery to see if therapy would help my shoulder heal - so I knew him.)  However, again, therapy hurt a lot more than I expected.  My second visit - which I thought would be similar to my first (The one where they do minimal things just to evaluate you and see how much movement you have? That one.) - was so much more........'vigorous' (for want of a more frightening word:), that I almost blacked out.  Brian, my OT, told me to just lay still and relax.  In retrospect, it was of 'providential' forethought that John was able to be with me on that particular visit, so that he could reassure Brian that while my response was extreme, it was within the 'norm' for me.  In other words, since I respond BIG to most things - why would I not have an extreme response to allowing a medical professional to 'hurt me' on purpose!

My therapy was going along smashingly - I had gained substantial use of my left shoulder/ arm - when all of a sudden, I woke up on Friday, June 1st with some pain on the left side of my abdomen.  This was the day we had chosen to clean out our 'very old in need of knocking down' shed.  John, Katie and Peter were outside beginning the cleanout, and I did my shoulder exercises.  The pain continued to grow.  I made breakfast doubled over from the pain and invited the fam to come back in and eat.  I went straight into the bathroom where I remained for an hour in pain and throwing up until John came in and announced that he was taking me to emergency.

I was admitted that night, given very strong pain killers and for 4 days, the doctors had no idea what was wrong with me.  On the fifth day, they did a second CT scan and decided that I had perforated diverticulitis.  (As a side note, I lost 14 pounds while in the hospital!)  On the 9th day, they did a 3rd CT scan to see where they would put 3 drain tubes to hopefully drain the abdomen full of infection that I had.  They were hoping to not have to do surgery on my colon.  My doctor (a really groovy surgeon) came back very quickly that morning to tell me that the Radiologist had called in another doctor to review my scan, and they changed my diagnosis: I did not have perforated diverticulitis - my appendix had ruptured!

I was in the hospital for 14 days and when my white blood cell count finally came down and stayed down, I was released.  Actually, it was more like I was 'dumped on the front stoop'......I was going home with a pic line to administer IV antibiotics at home and one drain line to continue to help my abdomen heal.  It was a friday, and all the doctors had come to see me but no one realized that in order for me to get my antibiotics for home, I had to go to the Infectious Disease doctors office that day!  At about 4pm, hospital administration came and announced that I would have to be discharge and in a hurry, since the doctor's office closed at 5pm - and they wouldn't be back in the office until Tuesday.  They had to show me personally how to administer the IV antibiotics.

**Thankfully, Katie and John did my antibiotics at home most of the time.  I couldn't do it myself - it was too weird.  And I really felt like a junkie the few times I had to do it!!  

Now, you realize that during this whole time: the two weeks in the hospital, the 3 weeks after that that I had the pic line and drain line, the 2 times I went in to have the drain line examined, then the weeks before my colonoscopy and my appendix surgery on August 16th, discovering that my system was biochemically 'out of whack' because of all that had happened, I was not doing shoulder therapy.  Not one single exercise or stretch or resistance workout.  I was too 'afraid' of something else going wrong....

Finally, a couple of weeks after my appendix surgery, I went back to OT.  Thankfully, I hadn't lost a lot of flexibility in my shoulder - and it didn't require a lot to get me back up to speed 'occupationally' speaking.  In fact, I finally finished having to actually go to the rehab clinic in early October.  I was just doing exercises on my own at home - continuing to strengthen my shoulder from that surgery wwwaaaaayyyyy back in February!!

And again, all was going well, when 'WHAM!', my gallbladder flares up!!  Yep!  On October 13th, after a 5 hour stay in emergency, an ekg, a chest xray, several labs and an ultrasound, they discovered that I had gallstones!  I could only laugh! The absurdity of it!!  (Well, laugh I say, AFTER they had given me pain killer!) I went back to my hospital stay doctor/ appendix surgeon  - telling him that I had missed him! I mean, it had been 2 months since I had my appendix removed.  He assured me that he could also remove my gallbladder, and the surgery was scheduled for the next week.

So, almost two weeks ago (Oct 25th), I had my 3rd surgery and 5th procedure for this year! 2012 - The Year of Internal Voyages!! My post-surgery checkup was completely uneventful - oh, and in case you couldn't tell, that's a good thing!!  I  think I've had enough drama to cover me for a good long while!

Okay, so I don't know if any of this is Erma Bombeck worthy??  But it's definitely been quite a storyline to follow.......and I'm tired of writing about all this!!  Time to move on to groovier topics!

I'll Do My Best (old post I finally finished)

Now that my appendectomy is done -- textbook A+ done -- I feel like I really need to put the past few weeks in written form. Not sure how well I'll do it but I need to try.  When I left the hospital on June 15th - 14 days after I went into the hospital - I had some issues with anxiety and depression.  I had a pic line so that I (or my family) could administer IV antibiotics, and I had a drain line because there was still so much infection in my abdomen.  I was anxious about doing everything correctly, wondering how long it would take for my body to heal, putting my life on hold until I got past all this.  Because despite modern medicine, it's very difficult to attempt normalcy with all that 'stuff' coming out of your body.

Those few times when I went out to somewhere other than a doctor's office, I always felt very conspicuous, vulnerable to more infection and therefore more sickness, on edge emotionally and physically.  The world is a VERY germy place!!

And I know I made my family crazy - asking them to disinfect themselves and every surface in the house everytime they did anything - and I mean EVERYTIME.  They were phenomenally patient and loving!  So, that first night home, I cried quite a bit.  I felt bad for my family because I didn't want them to think that I wasn't happy to be home with them. 

At that point, I wasn't experiencing any sense that my emotions were overwhelming me.  I felt like I was 'stuck' - with no forward or backward motion.  And I felt a small amount of anxiety that I was going to feel like that forever.  But, again, nothing that I couldn't handle.

Well, over the course of the next 7 weeks, I began feeling worse emotionally, mentally.  One emotion in particular - anxiety - began growing - quietly, slowly -  ramping up each day.  Oh, at first it was only lasted for only an hour or two a day....then it was 4-5 hours a day - and pretty soon, I realized that a large portion of every day was spent trying to calm myself down, watching tv to distract my brain, sitting in the recliner in my living room.  I stayed home all the time.  I felt like I didn't have the energy to keep my anxiety under cover if I went out anywhere - almost as if I had tried to do anything or go anywhere that my body was going to literally 'fly out of itself'.

On July 20th, I made an appointment with my surgeon to see about some pain in my upper abdomen I was experiencing. He said it was to high to be related to the appendix issue.  And I wondered to him if maybe I had developed an ulcer?  He said, if anyone had a reason to develop one - I certainly did!!  So, he told me to get some prilosc and some pepto bismol and watch myself over the weekend;.  So, I did, and it seemed to help some.....but I continued to have anxiety throughout most of each day.  Only at night as I got closer to Ambien taking time did I begin to feel relief - and I don't think it was only because I knew sleep was coming - I think my hormones/ biochemistry seemed to 'catch up' or right itself later in the evening.


July 26th I went to see my psycho-therapist - I had decided that I needed to get some medicinal help for the anxiety, and I needed encouragment that I wasn't some kind of pathetic person because I needed some outside help.  She was very encouraging saying that she believed that this anxiety was mostly biochemical (and a bit emotional) and suggested a medication that would help to not only relieve my anxiety but help to level out my biochemical imbalance: buspar.

I got an appt that afternoon with the doctor's office so I could get a prescription for the buspar.  I took one - it made me worse.  I called my therapist the next morning - she suggested I get Xanax.  I got an appt that morning, got a prescription for Xanax, took one and it made it worse.  I ended up in the emergency ward - I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin.  The doctor gave me a shot of Geodon and assured me that I was going to sleep and John would have to stay at the hospital for hours until I woke up............you guessed it - it made it even worse.  We discussed with the doctor my staying in the hospital overnight so that I could see a psychiatrist the next morning but they wouldn't have let me take anything (including Ambien), so John and I decided that if I just went home, I could at least get relief that night for a few hours. This was Friday night - I had all weekend...................

Saturday turned out to be okay (unbelievably), Sunday it got worse and Monday, I got the names of several psychiatrists from my therapist.  The first 3 that I called had no openings for two weeks.  Well, that was definitely NOT going to work.  So, I got a couple more doctors' names to call - finally -- finally, I got an appt with a psychiatrist for that Wednesday (2 days).  By the time I got to the psychiatrist's office, I was hysterical, believing at that moment that I would never find relief, that I would be in this neurotic state forever.  The doctor assured me that I would not.

(**Spoiler alert** I have not! :)

It took a few days and several dosage changes but my psychiatrist found the exact medication with the exact amount to return my sanity to me.  (Of course, during this time, I was also in contact with my medical doctor to start on some hormone meds too.  They're also working very well!)  Unless you've ever experienced something like what I've described,you cannot know how HUGE the relief is.  There are no words that would help me to tell you other than to say I went from feeling like I would never be able to enjoy my life to experiencing peace and rest all day long.  And now my doctor and I are even starting to reduce the amount of medicine that I take so that I can get to a place where I take the least amount to manage my biochemistry/ hormones/ mood!!  

Thots from the Gallbladder.....

And with the flare up of my Gallbladder, I have another 'N-1 things to go wrong with my body' off my list!  And it seems that each issue this year has been of a 'decreasing level of drama'.  (This concept will be discussed in a separate blog.)

This issue/ surgery was only day surgery: I checked in at 8am and was home by 3pm.  During that time I made an interesting observation - that different careers/ talents/ skills have different job preparations.  For example, doctors don't seem to need any pre-surgery preparation - other than sterilizing.

As an actor I have gotten to the theater to physically and mentally prepare for a performance anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half before curtain.  And in my experience stage actors do this before every performance, no matter how long the run of a show is.  An architect might consult the design specifications for a project or review the blueprints before directing the construction of a building.  A teacher reviews their lesson plans before beginning the days' instruction.  A chef follows a recipe in order to create a masterpiece.  But doctors/ surgeons don't seem to need such prep.

My surgeon did not arrive until right before the surgery - in fact, I was prepped for surgery and the team was ready but we had to wait for the doctor to arrive.  I don't know where he was before and don't presume to judge anything about him, I just make the observation that he arrived right before surgery, cruised in, smiled and said hi, explained the procedure, sanitized his hands (I'm assuming:) and dived right 'in' to remove the offending organ.  No before surgery prep - he didn't have to review the script to remember his part or remind himself of the blocking.

Maybe because of all the years of extra training that doctors have to go through they don't need to do 'pre-whatever' prep?  I suppose it would make me nervous if my surgeon had to do pre-surgery prep to know what he was doing......:*)  I'm definitely glad that he knows his way around my insides!! 

In the Moment....Is it Possible?

So, I've been pondering the phrase 'being in the moment'.  I most often associate it with acting.  A good actor is said to be 'in the moment' of the scene - he or she is so believable as the character because they are fully immersed in every aspect of the character in that exact moment in the play.

I've recently come to apply the phrase to my actual real life.....and I've discovered that there are large portions of my life in which I have not been 'in the moment'.  So, where have I been you ask?......Well, I've been...........

'In the past': much of my life has been lived in the past thinking and rethinking, regretting, explaining, defending everything I've ever done.  When you live with the guilt that every choice you make could completely screw up God's will for the universe, when you're told (most of the time it's a forceful suggestion, that way the person doing the 'telling' doesn't sound like they're telling) that in order to be 'Godly' you have to 'perform' daily, when you can't live in the day to day of your life because it's too frightening - you have to live in the past to figure out how to make yourself acceptable, forgiven and brave.

And, I've been.........

'In the future': the rest of my life (except for a small portion) has been lived in the future trying to predict the outcome of every situation in which I am or could be involved - trying to make sure that even if I'm making bad choices I can cover them up or explain them away.  In addition, I was trying to figure things to do to be a 'good, Godly woman' who obeyed all the rules.

I've decided that I want to try very hard from this point on to live 'in the moments' of my life.  (except for those times when all of us have to consider past or future issues - much smaller group of issues than I have previously believed:)  I got some good advice from a Catholic nun recently. She said, "You don't have to do everything, Brenda.  You just have to do the NEXT thing.  Give yourself permission to grow into my new name."  Which is, I believe, part of the definition of living 'in the moment'.

It's so wonderful!!  I have time to 'wonder and wander'.  There's no rush when you're living in the current moments of your life.  There's no pressure that you didn't do well or enough in the past nor pressure that you'll probably screw up in the future.

So, 'for the moment' :), screw the past and future - just enjoy the amazing, rich moment that you are in right now!!  It is possible and makes life so much more worth living!

Sister Mary :)

I had my first ever spiritual direction visit with a Catholic nun today!  It was really enlightening, encouraging and just plain cool.  Despite having never met me before and only having a short bit of ‘emotional vomit’ from me, she was able to give me some insight/ some direction in which to pursue my current journey. 

Who knew this woman who was raised 'hard-core, fundamental baptist, we're the only ones right, and I need to correct everyone that doesn't believe the same as me' could get valuable advice from a nun!!  (I speak sarcastically, of course!:)

I think the most significant thing she said to me today was to ‘cut myself some slack, give myself some time,’  She said that because I have lived so long under false pictures of who God is and what He wants from me – it’s going to take a while to be able to live into real truth.  I’ve been in my current phase of God questions and discovery for a little under two years now.  It was great to have someone affirm that taking time to walk through all aspects of my questions about God is okay.

I explained to her that I haven’t been praying or singing any kind of spiritual song because I feel like a hypocrite when I do.  I’m not making any kind of choices that a ‘normal Christian’ (according to those teachings from my past) would so I don’t feel like I’m allowed to do those other things.  She encouraged me to know that I’m not a hypocrite – that any new set of disciplines needs practice.  So, she encouraged me to give myself permission to ‘practice’ God: singing (I love to sing), praying (no genie in the bottle syndrome) and reading about God and the Bible.

I cried real tears today in her office – not a lot – just a few.  I felt like the Grinch when his heart grew three sizes and he was overwhelmed with the emotion of that - like somewhere there was something small melting off of something in my heart giving me permission to be vulnerable.

Why No Wi-fi?

So, I’m at a retreat this weekend (9/28 - 9/30).  Despite the fact that John and I have just barely begun to go back to church after a year and 8 months out – and I am on a Christian women’s retreat.  I’m here because my therapist invited me/ suggested that this could be very helpful at this point in my journey…..I’m not sure I’m really ready for the whole ‘sharing’ atmosphere but I trust her input – so here I am.

My topic of discussion for today is related to not just this retreat but to the hundreds of retreats/ camps/ ‘spiritual getaways’ that I’ve been a part of for the past 40 years. 

Here’s my question: Why is it so important to not have access to wi-fi when you’re on a retreat – especially these days??

“You need to disconnect in order to really get anything out of the retreat.”  I know that in the past I’ve said this to hundreds of people, it’s been said to me and is probably the reason why this retreat center has no wi-fi.

I’ve just come to realize that I believe that’s the dumbest philosophy ever!!  Especially in today’s ‘connected’ world.  So, what - God can’t speak if I’m connected to wi-fi??  I can’t make any life-altering choices or decisions if I can access the internet??  I’ll never be able to really hear my own thoughts if I’m checking on the status of a friend??

All lies!!  I, in fact, have a lot of my greatest epiphanys in the midst of noise and clutter and wi-fi ‘connectedness’! I almost always have music in the background whether I’m online or not.  I’m very rarely in the midst of total silence.  In my case, my brain is the noisiest when I’m in silence. (I’m sure someone out there has some kind of philosophical or pharisaically judgmental statement to make about that!)

And, really, in today’s world, you will get better focus from people if you give them opportunity to stay connected.  In fact, I wanted to look up a Bible verse tonight but because I don’t have all my books here with me and because I can’t connect to the internet, I can’t look it up.  (And, at the moment, I can’t find a Bible with a concordance)  It’s distracting (:*p) and frustrating.  I think this was actually one of the reasons why I was so hesitant to come on this retreat. (I’m sure someone else out there will have more pharisaical things to say about that thought!)

You know, people who are going to get easily distracted or not focus on a specific activity or speaker are usually like that whether you force them to be ‘involved’ or not.

Epiphany's in the Shower

You know, I have worked out so many problems/ had deep -- ‘abysally’ deep -- epiphanys/ sung Broadway musicals/ and yelled out my anger at someone who has offended me - in the shower.  And it’s not that I take such long showers that I have time for major contemplation.  I think it’s the sense of complete solitude that allows me the freedom to work out/ think out loud about lots of issues – it’s a ‘safe’ environment.

Most recently, I began to think about a dear friend of mine who is a beautiful woman, a supportive, loving wife, an amazing, patient mother and, until recently, the owner of her own business.  I was grieving over the unbelievable events surrounding the loss of her business (and no, I’m not going to share what that is).  As I considered her, her parenting style came to mind, and it occurred to me that she did not believe in spanking her children.  Almost immediately, I wondered to myself if it’s possible that parents who do not use corporal punishment (spanking) are actually more creative parents than those who automatically resort to it??  I thought of another friend who also doesn’t believe in spanking and then thought of their mothers who raised them with that example.

I was raised to believe that you didn’t love your children if you didn’t spank them.  ‘Spare the rod, spoil the child’!  And it was emphasized so much among the leaders/ authorities/ and my ‘circle’, it became one of the tenets of doctrine: as in – it’s not possible to be a responsible, loving, conscientious (oh, and here’s the biggie…….) godly parent and NOT spank your children.  I’m not sure that always spanking creates a lot of creativity in a parenting style.  I mean, if your child disobeys and you’re obligated to spank them or be a heretic, there’s not a lot of room for thought as to other forms of discipline that actually might more appropriately fit the situation.

Now, I understand that there are good and bad parents from both camps.  There are those who spank in anger, frustration, fear and even rage.  And there are those who take more thought as to when and in what attitude they spank.  There are parents who don’t spank because they’re too lazy or they’re too afraid of the law or of their children.  And there are those who have made a conscious choice to seek other means of instructing/ disciplining their children.

It seems to me that having to figure out an appropriate punishment would require that a parent take more time with their child/ children and be more personally, actively involved in correcting whatever the transgression/ error may be.  It also occurs to me that not simply resorting to spanking might actually require the parent to discover whether or not the situation warrants punishment!

Oh! Oh!  What the hell?  You say that there are actually situations in which a child is disobedient or inappropriate that don’t require punishment? Yes, I believe there are.  (Well, I believe there are NOW.  Just covering myself in case one of my kids reads this and points out that that's a contradiction from when they were young.  Personal growth, okay?!)  It’s so very important to a child’s development to be sure that they are not punished for just being kids/ for not knowing any better/ for being curious.  It really sucks that more parents don’t get this part right.  I think there’d be a lot less ‘screwed up’ kids if more parents were taking the time to figure this one thing out.

So, coming back to my friends – I admire them and their parents for being courageous and creative.  And I admire them for not apologizing for their parenting choices.  And I applaud them for challenging me to be a better parent.  And I hope (at least in the past few years) that John and I got better at it!

What if.........

In church today (because I chose to be) in Waco for the second time in over a year and a half, I suddenly had an enormous 'What if? supposition'.....

As a former 'Christian' - now an honest, searching, seeking woman - who on purpose stepped out of the 'line/ norm/ expected' of what I had been raised under and beaten up with for the most part, I have a wonder.....

What if church isn't for the outsider anyway?  What if church is just for the believers to follow the instruction to 'meet together to encourage and teach and lift up' one another?

There's no comment/ instruction/ commandment anywhere in the Bible for the unbeliever to come into the church.  Why would they?  They wouldn't understand it.....at best, they might think Christians are crazy and passionate - at worst, crazy and deluded!!

What instruction IS there is for the believers to TAKE the light that they have out into the darkness - for them to be the 'hands and feet of Christ'.

When I think of all the wasted years spent feeling guilty about not inviting enough people to church.........  It's a crippling philosophy to burden someone with guilt for not inviting someone else to something they wouldn't understand anyway!

I need church - a non-believer does not.  They aren't supposed to 'fit in'.  They need the hands and feet of Christ which can only come to them through those who are supposed to be God's kids and Christ's brothers and sisters.

And by the way, for the most part, 'hands and feet' are not people who give out tracts or knock on complete strangers' doors and tell them they're going to hell or memorize 100 verses at summer camp.  The 'hands and feet' of Christ are people like Joseph who are commendable no matter where they are: a beloved son with a beautiful coat, a despised brother, a slave to Potiphar, the object of lust, an innocent prisoner, a forgotten man, the head of Pharoah's government and that same despised brother showing incredible mercy to brother's who sold him and lied about his death.

So......what if?

The Moon

This one is really short and too obvious for words - but I needed to post it.  Since my over-the-top anxiety, I haven't been able to blog.  And I LOVE blogging - so I'm posting this one even though it's really lame.

In preparation for 'mooning' the doctor and his staff tomorrow during my first colonoscopy, I have some thoughts on the actual moon.......:)

It faithfully does it's job.  Always appearing, always reflecting.  It doesn't even get to generate it's own source of light - it just reflects the sun.  And yet, it's always there.  No matter the 'percentage' of it that you can see, you CAN see it.  And even when there's only a small percentage that is shining, you can usually see the outline of the whole moon.  It looks as if it's either an actual flashlight itself - of that it's reflecting the light from a flashlight.  My thoughts about the moon are so much more profound than they sound written here.....

I'm gonna look at it again tonight.

I'm Not Alone.....

So many things have been so strange about this summer.  Two things have made me stop and reflect and be thankful for what I have in the midst of uncertainty and pain and fear.

I had my first real panic attack the first night I was in the hospital - real panic attack.  Up to this point I have had high anxiety - crazy high anxiety attacks, extreme hormonal paranoid moments - don't we all at some point in our lives?  But on the first night at the hospital, before the doctors were able to set and regulate my pain level with the needed amount of pain killer, I had my first (and so far only) actual, physical panic attack.

The doctors discovered after 2 1/2 doses or Morphene in my 5 hour stay in emergency, that I needed something a little more 'potent' for pain.  They switched to Dilaudid. I was in extreme pain by that first night - of course, my appendix had burst or was bursting - and by 10pm I was shaking violently going back and forth between sweating and chills.  It was then that my nurse (Scott - really great) announced that he wasn't going to be able to give me any more pain meds for an hour!  An hour!  I was NOT going to be able to make it another hour.  He apologized and said that he would contact the doctor.

He left the room, and almost immediately I felt like someone had stepped on my windpipe.  I could not breathe - I sat up and ordered John to call Scott back.

John:  Hey, Scott, Brenda said that she doesn't -----
Brenda:  I CAN'T BREATHE!!  I CAN'T BREATHE!!

In that moment, I thought I was going to suffocate.  I was sweating and gasping....Scott came back immediately and asked if I'd ever had a panic attack.  I said no, and he started coaching me to breathe more deeply and try to relax.  I knew that I had to try and do what he said.  During all of this - oh, probably 10 - 15 minutes which felt like a lifetime -  he was able to get a hold of the doctor and they changed my pain meds to every 3 hours.  In addition, he gave me a dose of phenergan (anti-nausea) and 10mg of Ambien.

Did it work? John said that I fell asleep mid-sentence so quickly, he stayed up for several hours checking to be sure that I was breathing.


And I'm pretty sure that that frightening experience (still very vivid in my mind) added to my realization that no matter how sick I was, how much pain I was in, and how crazy weird it was that my appendix burst - at least I was never alone....


I began the last few days that I was in the hospital walking laps on my floor every night - you know, that they always want you to get up and walk around, do things for yourself before you go home, have a healthy bowel movement (well, they do!).  One night I saw a small, frail looking woman in her room alone eating her dinner.  I wondered if she had anyone who came to see her.  Then later when I was walking laps with John, we passed her in the hall.  She was also walking laps......alone.  She looked so frail, I was surprised that she could hold herself up - she did have her IV pole for suppport.  I smiled at her as we passed; she had dark circles under her eyes, her dark, dull hair pulled back into a pony tail making her face even more gaunt and thin looking - she did not return my smile.


She has been in my thoughts since then...A tall, black gentleman has also been in my thoughts since the day I left the hospital.

My discharge from the hospital was hurried - I had to get to a doctor's office to get my IV meds before they closed at 5pm.  I could not leave and come back, they could not come to the office, so I had to sign papers and leave within 45 minutes of thinking that I was actually going to stay for another night....I didn't even have street clothes with me.  I had to wear two hospitals gowns - one backwards so that I didn't feel quite so naked.


A tech wheeled me out the front door where Peter was pulling up with the Expedition.  He couldn't pull up immediately because there was a taxi in front of him, and he wasn't sure if he should go around it......John motioned for him to pull around and up to me so that we could get to the doctor's office.  I glanced in the direction of the taxi and realized that there with a nurse was a tall black man alone getting into the taxi.  In that moment I realized that no matter how terrible I felt - that I wasn't alone.  I felt such sorrow for this man and so many like him who go through the 'mess' of life alone......for whatever reason - it doesn't matter....what matters is that they're alone.


And surely I can do something about that.......

More Hospital Thoughts.....

One of my most interesting experiences during my hospital stay was the nursing staff - it's amazing (although I guess it shouldn't be) how many different ways there are to do the same tasks.....and how some of my most immediate initial perceptions of some of my nurses were so wrong.  (the hospital staff: nurses, doctors, techs, housekeeping and the cafeteria were really wonderful!!!)

I was at the hospital for 28 nursing shifts - 3 nurses during those shifts I had multiple times.  In addition, there was a charge nurse for each of those shifts.  With only 1 horrible, miserable exception, these people were fabulous!!  A few of them surprising and changing my initial reaction to them......creating a great sense of calm in me because of the confidence they engendered!

"Ditzy, cheerleader nurse" - Maggie (Margaurite), blonde hair, polished makeup, really beautiful diamond ring and bracelets, actually turned out to be the mother of 5 - 24, 22, 18, 4 and 2.  All of whom she smilingly informed me were hers and her one husband!!  Instead of injecting my meds into the IV port closest to my arm which every time seemed to momentarily shock my system, she injected them further up the IV line allowing them to dilute some before entering my system. (Clever - who would have thought of that!)

"Asian man who called me Miss Brenda" - Gleeson, short, very polite asian gentleman whom I thought would be cold and unresponsive, actually ended up being my favorite nurse.  He was quick, efficient, thorough and passionately loyal to his patients - at least that's how he came across to me every time he was there!  He was the charge nurse for the shift that I had to get Potassium straight into my arm.  I had a severe reaction to it causing my right arm to swell up and bruise a lot.  My nurse that day was Jackie (really groovy woman with a beautiful smile), and she and Gleeson immediately contacted the doctor to get permission for me to take the Potassium in tablets.

"Short Indian woman, thick accent" - Miss Abraham, her accent was very thick and I feared that there would be lots of miscommunication that day and that she would be very impersonal.  IRL :) - she was very, very compassionate, mothering, exceptionally professional with a great sense of humor.  She was also the charge nurse for 2 of those 28 shifts and my day nurse for 2.  She was the charge nurse that I told about my one terrible nursing shift experience.  She and my nurse that day knew immediately who I was talking about and assured me that he would never be one of my nurses - and they were right!

I hate that I can't remember some of the nurses that I had in those first few days because I was so sick and 'out of it' most of the time.  And, btw, if you haven't had blood taken very often, you'd be amazed at how much skill is involved in finding a vein and drawing a little blood - I was so glad that most of the lab staff at the hospital was very skilled!

Also, do you think all phlebotomists are vampires?? Otherwise, why do they have to come so damn early to take your blood!!!

Poop, Pus and Pudding! (you know I had to :)

This Friday will mark 5 weeks since my release from what is my current most surreal experience - burst appendix that caused a 2 weeks hospital stay.  It's one of those illnesses/ topics that are occasionally discussed but most of us never, ever, ever think will happen to us.

And, of course, as with most things these days, some thoughts occurred to me.......just to set the right mood, I thought I'd start with the grossest - I mean, really, it can only go up from there, right?

Do you realize that what most of us consider juvenile, impolite topics for conversation, (poop, diarrhea, nausea, vomiting and peeing) are actually some of the favorite for discussion between patients and their doctors?  In fact, the topics border on obsessive and are involved in almost every procedure for which a person can be admitted to the hospital.  So, I'm thinking, if more of us were talking about it in the open maybe less of us would be having issues with it in private!!

As noted in my previous blog, my appendix is slightly out of normal placement.  Because of this my doctors were stumped for the first four days of my hospital stay.  The doctor who will be my appendectomy surgeon came into my room every day for those first 4 days shaking his head apologizing because no one could figure out what was wrong with me. Day 5 the doctors decided to do a 2nd cat scan - this one revealed bubbles - and they diagnosed Perforated Diverticulitis.  Diverticulitis is a condition where there are little pockets of pus on the inside of your colon wall - and is a common condition especially among Americans. Perforated Diverticulitis happens when one or more of those pus pockets gets something hung up on it and bursts open leaking pus and infection into your abdomen. Not a very attractive condition, eh?

My doctors began talking about immediate surgery while trying to get my white blood cell count to lower.  However, over the weekend the 'sub' for my surgeon suggested that instead of surgery, I could have drain tubes inserted into my abdomen to drain away the pus and infection pockets that they could see - 3 of them. This might actually cure me and I could avoid surgery.  What did I think? O-o-okay....

So, I was scheduled for a very early in the morning 3rd cat scan so that the Radiologist would know exactly where to put the drains.  My surgeon came in after that to describe the drain procedure and then left telling me he would be back later in the day to check on me.  He was actually back within 15 minutes - I explained to him that I had not had time to have the drain procedure yet :) - with a confounded look telling me that while I was still having the procedure, it was now to drain abscesses that had occurred as a result of my appendix rupturing not PD.  The Radiologist upon a closer inspection and after calling in a second Radiologist realized that something he had seen in/ on my appendix in the the first cat scan was not there now in this 3rd cat scan.  The conclusion - a hole (rupture) had developed and released it.  Voila!  Ruptured appendix!

It must be noted that I am always amazed at the ordinary things in our world (cheese squares, headphones, 'Indiana' brand popcorn, straws at fast food restaurants, DVD's, etc.) that are packaged in high security packaging - you know, packaging that usually requires scissors or a screw driver or very big knife.  (I'm not kidding about the popcorn by the way.  Buy a bag of INDIANA POPCORN brand popcorn and just try opening it in your car on the way back home.  Go ahead, I dare you!)  So, it was satisfying at the hospital to FINALLY see items packaged in high security packaging that actually need it: medicines, IV solutions, needles, sterilizing supplies, etc.

One final thought - the yummiest one - and strangely enough, related to the first thought of this blog: chocolate pudding is considered a soft, intermediate food in the hospital.  And sweet iced tea is a clear beverage.  That means that even if you're on a clear liquids only diet - you can have sweet tea!  And, when the doctors are progressively re-introducing solid food back into your diet, you get pudding - chocolate pudding!! 

In addition, if you're very nice to your hospital food staff, you can get extra glasses of said sweet tea.....'never be rude to the people who serve your food'!!

Totally Cool Happenstance!

It’s been a funky year (surreal summer for sure – more on that later) – and I’ve had to restart my blog on a couple of occasions.....I just seem have lose steam.  However, I so enjoy writing, that I’ve got to ‘restart’ again.  And despite the fact that I do write with an audience in mind, I will continue to write whether a real audience exists or not. J  Which is how it should be anyway, right?

Recently, my appendix burst, and I had an unexpected 14 day hospital visit…now, you need to know that I still have my appendix as of right now.  And that because my appendix is slightly out of placement compared to the average human, it took the doctors 10 days and 3 cat scans to get a correct diagnosis.  I will be having surgery in a few weeks to remove it once my body has had a chance to heal from the serious infections that I had as a result of not knowing what I had.  (lots of ‘had’ in thereJ)

I’ll let you know right up front that the background to the story of this blog will take longer than the story itself!!  But those of you who know me will understand……

I was admitted on a Friday and released two weeks later.  That first Friday and Saturday, I could only have sips of water.  My white blood cell was high, but started to come down.  So, on Sunday and Monday, I was allowed to have soft foods.  My white blood cell count went back up.  Therefore, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, I was back to only sips of water.  My white blood cell count came down again and stayed down.  So, I was allowed soft foods again.  The wbc count stayed down, I was ‘fitted’ with two drains and it was decided that I could begin to have ‘real’ food – something more than cream of wheat and bouillon cubes dissolved in water.  (I recall one bouillon cube meal when I could have sworn that they forgot the cube!)

And here’s the exciting point of the whole story: my first real food meal in the hospital………da da da dah………Meatloaf and Scalloped Potatoes!  Disappointed?  Well, you shouldn’t be!  My favorite meal, the one I have always requested for my birthday (even as a child), the one I fix for myself on my birthday and had to make my children eat when they were growing up (despite the fact that they hate it), the one that a few years ago I found a great variation for is none other than Meatloaf and Scalloped Potatoes!!!

It's Not Extreme If You're Me!

So, I desperately need to ‘catch up’ on thots!!  I’ve had some of the most eventful last few weeks – and if I don’t get some of the thots/ emotions recorded, I’m going to forget what I’ve learned J  And I certainly don’t want to have to learn some of this shit a second time!

So, after having shoulder surgery on Feb 1^st – I’ve officially been in rehab for 3 weeks.  And it’s a killer – just like Jeffrey Budoff said it would be…..he’s my orthopedic surgeon/ doctor.  He told me that the surgery would be easy compared to the recovery. 

I began Occupational Therapy (OT) – not to be confused with Physical Therapy – on Tuesday, March 20^th.  Basically, it was my check-in appointment.  Brian, my OT, did a basic post-surgery interview and checked my range of movement and flexibility………..which was mucho limited.  He was surprised to find out that my doctor had only assigned a couple of basic, low level exercises up to this point.  He went through a couple of exercises showing me how to do them correctly – even attempting one with a pulley that he decided I wasn’t ready for – and sent me on my way.  It took, oh, about 30 minutes.

So, on Friday, March 23^rd when I returned for my second checkup, I was almost looking forward to it.  And I can say very definitely that it was a stupendously important happenstance that this appointment coincided with John’s ‘Friday off’ day!!!!!!  By the time the appointment was over and Brian had done so much more to my shoulder than I EVER expected – inflicting pain as I’ve never experienced (yes, even in childbirth) - I had hyperventilated, laughed hysterically, cried and almost blacked out.  John was able to assure him that despite my extreme reaction, I was well within the range of ‘normal’ for me.

(I do have to commend Brian – my OT – for his patience and commitment to excellence in his work.  He has never done anything to damage my arm, enduring, in fact, much whining on my part in his effort to give me back full use of my shoulder.  He has a great bed-side manner, is cheerful and encouraging……….did I say all that right, Brian? Or is it Craig?? J)

The following thots occurred to me Wednesday as I was driving to my 4^th OT appointment – and, believe it or not, during the most painful part of my OT that morning.  I was wondering for probably the 37^th time why I had been ‘patientzilla’? What the heck was going on?  Was there still something from my past that I hadn’t dealt with in the past year?  Did I have some extreme fear that I didn’t realize?  Was it just my dramatic nature?  I also got a chance later in the day to discuss the subject with my counselor.  She helped me to confirm that, of course, it was a combination of things.  Part of my reaction was just a normal human response to pain.  Obviously, our body’s instinct is to protect itself against pain.  And so, when Brian was doing some of the new ‘stressing’ (his professional word) on my shoulder – it hurt – and I tensed up and unconsciously fought against what he was doing – causing more pain. Duh!  In addition, because I’ve been ‘on Alert’ protecting myself for most of my life, I have a very difficult time trusting my well-being to someone else.  Hence, my struggle to relax while in pain.

It’s the same thing when you’re in labor…….if a woman can relax in the midst of some of the roughest pain she’ll ever experience, her body can work like it’s supposed, and work more quickly.

The final contributing factor to my ‘edge of the precipice’ therapy experience that day was my expectations.  I ‘expected’ this appointment to be like the first – and it was anything but!  I ‘expected’ that I knew exactly what to expect.  And the fear that I experienced at realizing it wasn’t what I expected, scared the hell out of me.  To be so ‘out of control’ deeply scared me.  What if something worse happened to my shoulder?  For those first few appointments (and every time I would exercise at home on my own), I had visions of my shoulder breaking/ or being broken.  It took every bit of courage within me, to do those exercises at home – and to deal with the hysteria that I felt on those mornings that I knew I would be going in to the clinic. 

However, last Friday, I had a couple of breakthroughs.  One, the most rigorous part of my OT (and the most painful), the part where Brian actually, sort of, pushes my arm back into my shoulder while stretching it as high over my head as he can………….wasn’t.  It occurred to me while he was doing the exercise that it didn’t hurt as badly as it had the last time he did it.  I realized that I wasn’t having to fight against my own body’s desire to ‘fight against’ the therapy – I was actually relaxing……….okay, so it was only .05 percent more relaxing but every little bit helps!  Second, and I think more importantly, I didn’t feel the usual panic inside me, and I wasn’t ‘looking forward’ to the days off between appointments.  Up to that point, one of the ways that I encouraged myself to get through the appointments was to remind myself that I wasn’t going to have to go back for a couple of days. (Nothing personal, Brian!)

So, there you go……….would you expect any less???

Take me, baby, or leave me! :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MlNzpl3vz5Y  Okay, so the song isn't really directly related to this blog, I just really love it!

One of my goals for this new year was to learn to quiet the voice in my head that said I always had to be performing in order to be valid.  To come to appreciate that I am valuable whether I'm 'doing anything' or not - and by 'anything' I mean a job, chores, projects, assignments, even volunteerism, etc.  It's not been as difficult as it would have been just a year ago - I've changed so much.  I'm so much stronger, more at peace with who I am.  And yet, I had a thought a few days ago.......

I had shoulder surgery on February 1st - and am doing my best to rest at home.  I'm not driving or doing much in the way of housework.  However, I don't know that I'm actually experiencing the freedom of allowing myself to be okay just resting and relaxing - because I am actually 'doing something'.  I'm resting because I've had surgery.  Surgery is my.......safety valve.....I 'have' to rest because it's the only way that I'll get better.  So, I'm not just sitting at home because I'm choosing to pull back and allow myself to not have to work or be busy, I have a reason for sitting at home doing nothing.  I'm recuperating - and the only way to heal, to get better is to sit and rest - to do as little as possible.


I'm still doing a job........(sigh....)  I am getting better at doing it in a more bohemian fashion - that's progress!


I can't wait to start painting.  I had the opportunity to paint at a friend's baby shower: Millie - who joined us outside her mom today!  The concept was a brilliant activity for a baby shower - paint a portion of a picture for the baby's room.  Instead of signing a baby book or writing stupid cards with unwanted advice - we signed a mat board and then painted an image on a canvas.  We could paint whatever we wanted - our message to Millie.  I wanted her to know that her life was an adventure like a great book and that it was beautiful!!


"A Girl Called Millie" by Millie Prophet - and all the people who will ever be a part of her life!!

It was one of the very best baby showers I've ever been to......It was so low key: guests visiting, food, 2 drawings (just bring a package of diapers or wipes to enter) for wine themed gift baskets, sign the matboard, paint something for Millie on the canvas.  And I didn't even realize how special it was until it was over.  All during the party, I kept waiting for some silly party game to begin - actually looking forward to being able to not participate because of my recent surgery. But they never happened!  I really hate those games!


Hang on - I just realized that it was the first baby shower I've ever been to for a friend outside my former religious friend circle.  It was such a celebration of life, of family.  I sat next to a woman pregnant with her fifth - who knitted as if it were second nature.  So many of those religious people in my life who led me to believe that anyone not a christian doesn't believe - can't believe - would NEVER believe in the sanctity of life.  HA!


The more I step away from my religious upbringing the more I see how much pride and arrogance is associated with religion/ fundamentalism.  (small disclaimer: not all religious/ christian people are arrogant and prideful - but more than should be are)  In their effort to speak the 'truth', they become so fixated on themselves and that they carry the truth - they believe their own press - that they're invaluable to the truth getting out, that the people who need the truth must be stupid - otherwise they'd know how much they need the truth - and surely they'd accept it, wouldn't they???  So, those who have the truth have to force/ coerce/ guilt people into accepting/ taking the 'truth'.  They can grow to believe that anyone who doesn't believe the same must believe all kinds of weird, wrong, stupid, horrible, vicious, unloving, selfish, non-godly things.  And any of the previous categories automatically equals ungodly.


So........................every time I now encounter thoughtful, caring, intelligent, non-religious people or people of a different religious background who have obviously made a thoughtful choice about something in their life that is so different from mine and that I've been led to believe is wrong, I'm in awe.  (That is one freaking long introductory clause in that sentence! :)  To quote a movie that I just saw about 2 weeks ago, and that I've discovered has some really profound character depictions: TANGLED, ".....And at last I see the light, and it's like the fog has lifted...."


Don't we usually see truth in the simplest places.......


The mother, of course, is the most profound of the depictions: an expert at using guilt and manipulation on a naive, trusting younger person to further her agenda.  Words like 'betrayal', 'obedience', 'suffer', phrases like 'surely you don't want to.....', 'I mean, I wouldn't do it that way but.....', 'Well, if that's really what you think.....', 'I suppose you could do that.....'


......and lots and lots of heavy sighing........

Meds and Me - Oh, So Mellow!

The effect of painkillers on me is interesting - at least the painkiller hydrocodone.  Instead of knocking me out, it just makes me happy and mellow.  I'm agreeable and willing to out of my way to be so!  Yes, you brat, I'm talking about me - Brenda!  And I say it's 'interesting' because I think, for the most part, people who take it sleep quite a bit (at least, John does:).  But I've always had a 'hard-core' response to medication.  In other words, where the minimum dose works on most people, I always have to have the 'next step up' or 'the prescription level dose', etc. 

Because I knew I was going to be out most of the day last Friday running errands, I took back-to-back pain meds - bringing the meds with me (John was driving:) so that I could stay medicated throughout the day.  I can always tell 2 specific points of the medication's effect druign the 4 hours between doses: 1) When it first covers the pain, and 2) when it 'mellows' my whole body.

When each dose first completely covers the pain, about 45 minutes after taking it, I realize the pain is covered because I get this really wonderful, fuzzy mellow feeling behind my eyes.  I'm overwhelmed by an actual 'warm, fuzzy'.  In that moment, I think the the whole world is right and wonderful and worthy of patience and love - and I realize that I don't have pain in my shoulder or down my arm.

At about 2 1/2 hours into the dose, I suddenly feel all the strength leave, and I have no desire to exert one moment of energy beyond what I absolutely have to! I'm not tired, sleepy and have never fallen asleep at this point.  I'm just more relaxed than I can recall ever being in my whole life.....I'm mellow:)

I'm really glad that the hydrocodone makes me mellow because it made a day of errand running that much better. Why?  I LOVE to run errands!  I do - call me crazy (as if you don't already for so many other things!) - but it's another one of those freedome empowering activities that encourages me to embrace the reality that I AM an adult and - HAPPILY - fully responsible for myself and my actions.

MUST INSERT:  It is extremely less pleasureable, infinitely more of a burden to be borne, to have to run errands in the summer in Texas!!!

Okay, back to love it.....in addition, I also really enjoy hanging out with John, my husband.  We really have a great time together.  So, you can imagine how much groovier I felt Friday - not only was I doing two things I love - but I was doing them while completely mellowed on medication!  Win - Win - Win!!!!!