Going Down

The phrase going down today has a double meaning. It’s going down in blood sugar and it’s going down in the physical type of falling. Both are quite interesting and quite challenging in their unique way.

Good news,good news!! Since being on The Whole30 diet my blood sugar’s have dropped. If you knew me proor to this diet,you know that’s miraculous. I have not been a great one to deal with blood sugars or frankly my diabetes. I have ranged normally in the the upper 200’s to lower 200’s. On this Whole30 diet I have a tendency to have lows. My blood sugars are great when they’re good being in the the 120 to 90 range. But now I struggle with huge drops or what we call lows. My numbers have dropped as low as 58. These lows leave you feeling disoriented and for me my vision constrains. I see little lights in front of my eyes.

So I am learning to live with controlling my sugars on a new diet. I just have to listen to my body closer. Speaking of my body (ok you weren’t but I had to find a segue). I have not yet had my way in but my belt loops keep moving and I have been able to fit into some of my clothes much better. I am finding that I don’t miss many of the foods that are not allowed. Yes, even bread and chocolate. Still trying at times to succumb my desire got a Starbucks white chocolate mocha single shot with whipped.

I find myself eating a healthy non cheese non McDonalds breakfast.We are saving a bunch not eating the easy out of mom’s everywhere–fast food and pizza delivery. My kids are sure that I am making them suffer. Why is it that I think the first words out of a child’s mouth after dada and mama is McDonalds? My kids and my beloved are probably suffering more than I am. Our house has become a no junk food zone. According to the Princess I am starving her from the good stuff. I am such a horrible mom…call Children’s Division. Oh wait, she has threatened me with that for making her starve because she didn’t want the apple, she wanted cheeze puffs.

Now to the other fall or make that plural falls. Sit back for this tale or I am going to say tails. We in our insanity have three dogs; our old man Ralph, who is one of the originals, Chrissy who is the Princesses’ pup is aour german shepherd/border collie mix and our

rescue dog and now we have Gizmo.

Gizmo is a labradoodle pup that people were rehoming. We got him at a bargain basement price. If you know me, I wont pay an arm or a leg for a dog with a pedigree but he cost as much as a rescue in this area. Gizmo was named Divot but he is truly a Gizmo. Eight month old slobbery goofball who forgets he is a monster. He loves attention and is a sweetie. Did I mention he is a big eight month old pup?

We have a run line from our back door out about 20 feet until we get a fence built. I usually let them out in a certain order; the old man, the little girl and then Gizmo. I was doing great today. Ralphie went out and in, Chrissy went out and last but not least Gizmo.

Gizmo is afraid to go down the stairs. Why? I have no clue. So you have to encourage him with the word “Go”. I was encouraging him with the door partially open and then this streak of fur rushes by me. Chrissy had snuck out by me. Now anyone who knows about border
collies knows they are quick little buggers. I assumed (you have heard about what it means to aaume) she was running to the dog run which is in the baxk corner….nope. She was doing laps around the yard with me frantically calling her.

Now a quick sidenote. I am not nimble nor graceful since my strokes. My version of what I would call running you all would call something else. It is a strange hobble wobble drag leg thing. A 90 year old man could feasibly outrun me.

I totter down the back patio stairs that has no stairs. Trying to chase herdown. The dog juked me so many times. Heading to the front yard sending me into a panic as Sunnyside is next to our house. Sunnyside is a four lane busy road and we already had lost our Minnie to that road.

As soon as I am heading toward the front she flies by me to the backyard. I attempt to pivot and end up on the ground. Next to me was a brick half wall we haven’t figured out wh is there. I know now why, it is a “Dawn getter upper”. While I am working my way up, I look up and the great big bumbling galoot has snapped the run line.

So now I am chasing two dogs frantically calling their names like a crazy lady.(Please no comments on that from the peanut gallery.) I am getting panicky. Gizmo goes by and I stepped on the dangling off of the run line. Next thing I am laying on the ground with the air knocked out of me.

Chrissy never slows down. Gizmo comes over to check on me and I am able to grab him and use him to help me up. Helps to have a friendly giant. Chrissy is on lap 200 of the yard. I am able to somehow drag Gizmo back into the house. Please your imagination to how that had to look.

Chrissy now sees her buddy is going into the house and she hesitates. I grab the doggie treat bag and shake it. She comes closer and then darts into the house. She is panting, I am panting and the other two dogs are looking back and forth at us.

As I hobble into the breakfast nook, I look down at my Converse Chucks and see in my foray, I found some special surprises that the Teen swore he had been picking up every day. I am just blessed that any other part of me was not surprised.

So now I am sore from my falls and my bllod sugar is low at 60. So the moral is there are benefits to white cocolate mochas and don’t fall for any dogs.

Sleeping to the Sound of My Voice

Today was a typical day in Turnerville, The Teen exploding, teasing, backtaling and arguing. The Princess alternating from whining to laughing or just chattering away to herself

The Teen stayed home sick. Not sure how truly sick he was, have a hunch he was pulling a Ferris Bueller. The Teen now thinks chores are optional if he doesn’t feel like doing them. I informed eating could be optional also. He didn’t like that. I am glad I color my hair because I am sure I am gray. His grades have drastically improved but he continues to struggle with The social aspects. He struggles with self esteem. We keep trying to build him up but he says we do it because we have to.

The Teen and The hubby clash so often. Mostly because The Teen pushes his buttons and doesn’t stop. My normally patient husband will only take so much and The Teen doesn’t know when to quit The backtalk.

The Princess had dress up as a Disney character day at school. We convinced her to be unique and go as a clown from the circus in Dumbo. That we could recycle her clown costume for one more go. I was told tonight there were way too many princesses. She was to walk home by herself today. She went to a friend’s house and had her mom bring her home because her legs got too tired. Tonight at dinner she ate her whole dinner including meat and veggies. No complaints.

She is the one that wants to be around us and do things with us as opposed to the Teen who wants to nowhere and keeps to himself. He told us he didn’t want to be seen in public. Which always makes Ron think of the Ron White routine. I hope Princess continues to like us. But soon she too Wil become a teenager and go through PPC aka puberty personality change.

I have come to term with my diet which is more a lifestyle change. I have not weighed myself as that is a no no for the first 30 days. I know my pants are baggy and people say I am looking thinner. I am doing well avoiding my temptation foods and drinks. Even on my cheat day I barely cheat. I have stayed very basic choosing not to do a lot of fancy recipes. I am finding I don’t miss like I thought.

One good thing is that my blood sugars have lowered too the point I ha e been too low. My body clues me in quickly. Only problem is that the things I would normally due are all no no foods. Also, Ron is cooking more so he fixes their meal and I fix mine. So this a win win.

Tonight we ate dinner and actually had the kids talking. Let me rephrase thar, the Princess always talk but The Teen actually joined in with a pleasant tone and not a surly growl or grunt. Love those nights. We always no matter what eat dinner together at the table. Even if you choose not to eat, you come to the table.

My relationship with God and my journey brings me closer to Him everyday. Maybe it is due to my age. Maybe it is my Christian maturity. Maybe it is my continuing health issues and the challenges of the last year.. All I know that in this time I am closer to Him than ever before. It helps tremendously as our lives are not rainbow and unicorns. I am truly walking by faith. 

Tonight I was waxing philosophical to my husband as we settled into bed. I thought we were talking until; one, he didn’t answer my question and two, he began to snore. I had to chuckle, I put him to sleep with my talking and I hope not to do that to people on Sundays.

Tonight my prayer is for my family, my churches past and present, for those hurting and for God’s will to be done. Not my will but His will. During this season of Lent, I have been hearing Him remind of that. He has this, I just have to fully surrender and completely let go and let him. He also has been letting me not be afraid of who I am or how I am..I don’t have to be a copy or cookie cutter image of what people envision me to be as a wife, mother and pastor.. I just need to be me.

I am now hearing the soft breathing of two dogs, the muffled snores of my spouse, the sleep mumbles of the Princess and the quiet house noises. I am happy, I am content. I am at peace and I am loved.

So what if I put my husband asleep with my voice-I will consider that a talent.

Dieting. Dogs and other Doozy’s

Diet

I have been on the wonderful (please note sarcasm) Whole30 diet for one month . My skin is clearer, my blood sugars have been lower and my pants are saggy. That is the wonderful part. The not so wonderful part this is not a real diet as much as a complete lifestyle change.

So my days of bread, dairy, sugar,  (real and fake) foods and drinks and any and all processed foods or chemically enhanced foods may be at the end. You might say that isn’t bad. In a sense it is great. But my head thinks it is missing bread, rice, pasta and, cheese, yogurt, canned veggies and canned miscellany and real milk. Sometimes my stomach too wonders why it is not getting fried chicken, potato salad and corn on the cob. Which are all three no-no’s. I keep telling my brain and stomach we can do this and not slip back to eating bacon with my eggs or pizza. We no longer have pizza nights for the whole family. They get pizza and I have a salad with no cheese, no croutons, and an oil, vinegar and lemon concoction that I have made as the dressing.

Most evenings I cook two meals. Theirs might be spaghetti, Mac n cheese, beans and rice, homemade chicken noodle soup or a taco casserole. Me I will have; a lean meat, potato (baked with clarified butter or ghee)or oven roasted potato, or fried potato in an nonstick pan with a bit of cocunut and a steamed veggie . Dessert is some dried fruit or fresh fruit. Sounds gloriously healthy. I have stuck to it faithfully with only two cheat days where I didn’t cheat as much as I could of (I felt guilty).  It really isn’t too bad but hate the Dr insinuated that I was grossly obese and if I didn’t lose weight a gastric sleeve will be necessary. I am overweight but not gastric sleeve overweight. I have no clue as what I have lost yet as I was told not to weigh myself until my Dr visit. 

Today I went to get my INR (blood test to see if your blood is to thick or thin). I have to do this as I take Coumadin, a blood thinner. Due to miscommunication over if was my family doctor or hemotologist in refilling the prescription (and both are a Dr. Adams-husband and wife and trouble communicating who was doing the refill), I went four days without the med. When I went into it was a 1.0 which is too thick for people take Coumadin aka Warfarin, they would like it to be 2.5-3.0. So my blood was to thick. (I have heard of thick skinned before and there I am being differen and being thick blooded. I think They should call it rich blooded, it sounds fancier.) They called in the prescription but to the wrong Walmart pharmacy (yep, we have two in our town). After much craziness the lost was found. Now we get to thin out the blood but not make it to thin.

Dogs 

In our craziness of loving dogs and my strange need to fill a space after one of our four legged fur babies die, we got another dog. Are we nuts, probably. We got this dog for the Teen. A Labradoodle, who needed to be re-homed. We got him for a basement value price. He is seven  months old, black with a white beard, he is big and he is a slobbery goofball. He was formerly named Divot but now is Gizmo. I adore this dog. The Teen loves him but doesn’t take care of him as he should. Gizmo has chosen me. When I go on the stairs, he gets under my hand and walks me down the stairs. He searches for me and drops toys in my lap or rubs or leans on me. 

He and Chrissy (the Princesse’s dog), who is eight months old, play and play. Up the stairs, down the stairs, around in circles until they both drop in exhaustion. This doesn’t last too long and then they are back in play mode. It tires you out just watching them. I think though they are good for each other.

Ralphie, now the elder statesman, accepted Gizmo rather well. He got after him one time in a major way to establish who is the alpha. Ralph does not like it when one of his people get between him and Gizmo. There is grumbling and a snap toward him with his tail wagging. But he has established he was here first so you better show respect.

Doozys

Let me see. The Teen suddenly has gone from F’s to A’s. God does work miracles. He has the incentive of no permit unless his grades improve. I am so proud of him for stepping up his game.

He still struggles with his mental diagnoses and hates taking his meds. It is a constant battle. He is like a lot of folks, they are feeling fine so why take the meds. We keep on telling him he is feeling good because he is taking the meds. I am praying this will not be his demon. He is a great kid and now we need to convince him. We have a great team working with him at the Pearl Center. We still struggle with technology and screen times.

Our Princess is still her unique quirky child. She is starting to develop and we (I) have to remind her to wear her training bra. She is maturing in body but has the mentality of an eight to nine year old. She will come up with crazy statements that make you crack up.  She talks so fast and unclearly that you wonder if she is speaking in tongues but then we realize she has no translator.  She only leaves her regular classroom two times a day for a half your each time. She is maintaing her grades in a regular classroom at a C average. That is amazingly excellent.

She has not wandered off for quite awhile and I pray she doesn’t. Knock on wood. She loves being outside in the dirt, riding her bike on our dead end street or playing in the play house. She still imitates a racoon by taking things she likes to her ro her room and hiding it. Usually if something is missing we know where to look. 

With her nothing is boring. On Sunday she caught fire while lightening candles at church. Luckily I caught it as she went down the stairs. No one else saw was happening due to the  Passing of the Peace beginning. I saw it and quickly snapped her dress and and quickly patted out the flames. She was more upset that her dress lining that made her dress poofy had melted and that is was a brand new dress. She is always full of excitement. 

Never a dull moment with our youngest two.

Ron and I are unchanged. We work, take care of the kids, pay bills and are finnaly  starting  to do house projects. There is a lot of yard work and straightening up still to do. Hopefully we are actually seeing Spring. We still have a few rooms to decorate. I have been still sorting things and organizing what we do have and at times mourning the items we lost.

I have finally started going through boxes of my mom’s things. Mostly pictures and paperwork. I am labeling the pictures for future generations. I found death certificates of several family members. My grandfathers WWII Navy records. I found a reccomendation letter from a Spokane funeral home where my grandfather apprenticed. I have found a copy of my great grandmother’s will on my grandpa’s side. I have found a letter written by my great grandfather on my moms side, written in 1938, explaining his family history as written to a friend named George. I found my mom and stepdad’s and my maternal grandparent’s original marriage certificates and I am still sorting. My wonder is will any of my children be interested in these things. The two eldest boys know some of these people but will they want these things if I pass onto the afterlife.

Healthwise, Ron is healthy as all get out. My mom once said I would be taking care of him due to our age difference. Ironically it is the other way around. He cares for me on so many levels; emotionally, spiritually and physically. Sometimes I feel like a huge burden but he says we married for sickness and health, richer and poorer now all we have to do is wait for healthy and rich. But I always hear The words, “I love you” and his actions and works for this family shows his love, patience and commitment to all of us. It is unconditional. 

The aneurysm at times weighs heavily on us. We know the size and the possibilities. We know my stress is supposed to be limited. Hello, I have two special need kids and one is a teenager. I try to not think of it and just go on with life. I can’t dwell there but at times your mind goes there. I believe  that is when the devil is at work on me. Stupid devil.

I have written more than I planned tonight. It is now 2:52 a.m. and I am having one of my insomnia nights. These are the nights where I can’t fall asleep no matter my best intentions so I write or would be properly called typing. I am sorry if this was rambling and I probably put you to sleep after the first paragraph. If that is the case I better read it so I can go to the Land of Nod.

Blessings abound to you all.




What is Next

I write this as my children are yelling across the hallway both telling each other to be quiet. The Princess is afraid after watching Indiana Jones and is refusing to sleep. The Teen keeps making boo noises. Just another typical no school tomorrow night.

This has been an exhausting week. Actually been a hard two weeks. We have had a lot to digest. Good news, bad news, heart wrenching drama.

The Teen has been having rages. Extreme ones. Wall breaking, door breaking, chair breaking rages. It usually starts with the word–No. That most simple but dreaded word of every child. This word can lead to tears (usually that is the Princess), to backtalk, to throwing things, name calling, and unreasonable rages.

Daddy and the Teen clash horribly. Neither backs down at times. In many ways they are similar but in the sameness they also can be diverse opposites.

We have been worried about the Teen even before our move. We thought some of the issues we were having was due to that. It was a hard change for him. Whereas, the Princess has thrived, the Teen has not.

His grades have dropped, he made some poor social mistakes at school that the kids have not forgotten.  And let’s face it kids can be mean. He feels bullied and not liked. It’s heartbreaking as a parent to not be able to fix things.

This past week was difficult. On Monday the school called to let us know that other kids had said the Teen was cutting.  When asked why, the response was a shrug and “I don’t know”. It was like talking to wall.

We spoke with his counselor. We moved the Teen out of the downstairs to be up with us. We thought things would be chill. He was acting calm and aware of our concerns.

On Friday though we took several steps backward. We received a call from the school counselor  (we are becoming grand friends with nearly a call a week from her).  The Teen had his phone confiscated by her. Let me point out he’d just gotten the phone back after three weeks. Let me also point out, that we are very specific that his phone not go to school. 

She confiscated the phone when he was doing a live stream of the talent show. He swears he was being targeted or profiled by her. If having his phone confiscated was not enough, the Teen with his extensive lack of creative vocabulary called her a f#$@ing b%&ch. So that was call one from the counselor. 

Call two came about an hour later from the principal. 

“Hello Mrs Turner,  this is K…. Smith from the school.”

“Do we need to come and get him?”

She then proceeds to tell me he was in a fight and is supended for the half day. After they look ar the security tape, they will decide if there wold be further measures.

 So to the school we go. He comes to the car hot and angry. This wasn’t his fault. We don’t care. He basically hate everyone and everything.  It’s our fault and we don’t have his back.

Ron has to get back to work so I am left with a raging Teen. Oh joy. A raging teen that I am supposed to get to his psychiatrist appointment to due a routine med evaluation.  This now has to be more than that.

Somehow, thanks be to God, he agrees to go with me. Unfortunately we had an hour wait where he was ready to run.

We go back to see Dr D. The question is asked how have things been. I ask the Teen if he wanted to share. A snarl. I then tell the doctor it’s been awful. We then lay out his behaviors with me asking the Teen, “Am I telling it correctly?”

Dr D then asks the Teen a variety of questions. Then explains to him some of the behaviors and what they can be.

He speaks to us about his rages and periods of maniac being a form of bi polar. And that his social miss cues, stuttering and a few other behaviors makes him think of the Autism Spectrym and Aspergers.  He then tells him of Einstein and a few others that were a bit right of the norm.

As a parent you want to protect your children. I cannot even imagine the inner turmoil he had inside.I can’t imagine what all is inside of him and I think we only see a bit of manifestation.

I was not there during his first 8 years of life. I was not there when he was abused by his bio parents, I was not there through 11 foster homes. Bit I (we) are here now. We repeatedly tell him we love him.

I explain that I love him even when I don’t like his actions. Love can’t fix everything but it’s a great start of building trust. My baby boy is ill, he has a chemical imbalance, he has an invisible disease. I can’t remove it from him or even take this burden. 

We now have to show him that he can make it through this if he goes to counseling, takes his meds and let us help. This boy is stubborn and doesn’t believe this and doesn’t think anyone is there for him.

We are trying our best and praying a whole lot.

I think at times the visible diseases are so much easier than mental disorders.  People accept cancer, strokes and heart  disease more so than bi polar, autism, depression and anxiety. 

This is so very new to us. We expected one of our two to have issues but now it is both. We hope to do our very best. I am glad that we our people of faith because I am going to need God’s strength. 

Someone told me this morning thar the phrase, “thy will be done” in the Lord’s prayer resonated with them this week. I so understand. …God let thy will be done in this.

Tomorrow…An Answer?

Tomorrow I go see Dr. Setser, the thoracic surgeon to find the results of the cardio cat scan and the echo cardiogram.  I have mixed emotions.  I am a person of faith and I know people have been praying; so it may have been prayed away.  I am also pragmatic; is that possible.

Either way we will know tomorrow.  He viewed it on the first cat scan as a 4.9 to a 5.0 cm aneurysm.  So the question is; what will it be and what will we do?  In the echo cardiogram the tech was circling areas and flash colors on the screen.  Did I have any idea what he was doing?  Not a clue. But it feels a bit ominous when you have the silent tech who occasionally hums  Your mind wonders what he is humming about…

There is something in AA that is called the Magnificent Magnifying Mind.  I think that now only happens with addiction but with worry.  We think bigger than what it truly is and wwe have a tendency to look to far ahead.

“We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.”  Joseph Campbell

It is my time to let go and let God.  Am I nervous? Yes.  Am I scared a bit? Yes.  Do I worry? Yes but not for me.  I know what is will be.  I can’t change that I  have this aneurysm.  I can hope that it will be soon resolved.  I hate having a ticking time bomb…not knowing if it will or won’t dissect.  And if so, when.

I haven’t planned for this and how do you?  You get your documents ready of who will take care of you, who will make decisions for you.  Someone once told me I was tough and a fighter.  I hope I am but at times I don’t view myself that way.  I feel weak and knock kneed in fear and fear is from that weak lost part of me.  The part of the little girl who wanted to fit in and wanted to hide her wounds.

Along with all this health garbage; seeing a hematologist  to be diagnosed with Antiphospholipid Antibody syndrome, heart surgeon for the heart crap, a endocrinologist for the diabetes and the pain clinic to help control the pain….(I have not gone to a neurologist as of yet); I am getting broke just from the co-pays and I have to deal with troubled teenager.

The Teen is off the chain (not in a good way).  Angry, violent, lying, sneaky, stealing and just not the little boy we adopted.  He has changed so much in some ways but in others not so in maturity.  He lives to see how far he can go until I blow.  If I try to ignore his actions, he strives to make it louder and more in my face.  He is sneaky now; with food and media.  We aren’t  super strict parents but are a bit.  We ask for respect and to follow the rules. And the rules aren’t outrageous; be respectful, do your chores, do your homework and work hard in school, respect the time we give you for screen time. No girls over when we aren’t home. Typical rules….but he just can’t seem to do it.  We have him in counseling but I can’t physically force him.

When he gets outraged he becomes physical and verbally abusive.  He has pushed me and called me names.  He will take out his anger by throwing things or being destructive. He use to keep his blow up for just home but he has become comfortable enough at church to be explosive there.  I love him but this behavior is not going to make him a strong asset to society if he does not learn  how to control himself. He will negotiate stopping a behavior to get  his way.

This is not my first rodeo as a parent to a teen but man do I feel like I have been bucked off the prize bull.  Also in the midst of that, I have been told to stay calm and avoid stress.  Hello, I have a 15 year old who is hell bent on destruction and a special need daughter who requires attention and careful watching.  The careful watching is so she doesn’t try to wear my make up, cut her hair, restyle her clothing or use finger nail polish on the stuffed and/or living dogs.

So we wait for the diagnosis for me and for my Teen.

We wait semi patiently but we wait in prayer.  God is not only teaching me patience in my life but patience in being a momma of a teen who wants something but is not sure of what.  Please say a few prayers for us. Prayers for health and a bit of sanity as we try to wait.

 

Random Thought on a Sleepless Night

I am tired but my mind is a whirl of thoughts. I was on the cusp of sleep when Ron jumped out of bed suddenly. Startled me and here I am, awake with my head churning.

I have thought about The Teen. Let me replay a conversation. 

T: “Can I go over to ‘blankety blank’s'(insert girls name) house and hangout?”

Me:”I thought you all were going to go hang out at the mall?” This is something I don’t understand, going to a mall without money.

Well they can’t go there?”

“Why? There parents said no?”

“No they got kicked out and can’t go there.”

“Ummm what did they do?” Now picturing the girl with a snarl and a Jr member of a gang

“I don’t know I didn’t ask . Just let me go, you can trust me.” Oh the famous last words of any person.

“Are her parents home?”

“I don’t know but it’s no big deal if they aren’t, she is my friend not my crush. Please?”

“We need to talk to her parents to see if it is okay.” Insert teenage eye roll, pleading look and horror that we don’t trust him and want to talk to a parent.

Quiet as he has an inner conversation, weighing the odds. Then comes the heavy sigh. “Fine!”

The Princess today was a chatty one. Talking a blue streak to herself and then breaking into tirades over the strangest things. She spouts hate and discontent and then turns around five minutes later and acts like she didn’t even day she hated us, the dogs and why is she part of THIS family. Puberty with this child could be frightening.

She can’t understand why she should pick up her things so the puppy can’t get it and use it as a chew toy. Chrissy has amputated a Barbie leg and ate Precious’ head (stuffed animal). She also maimed Beautiful, her stuffed horse…he now has a docked tail. So tonight she is mad at Chrissy and still doesn’t understand why we want her room cleaned.

Ron is Ron. Steadfast, steady and true. He is pretty unflappable. He just goes with the flow. He gets things done and is picking up the slack since I am so tired. Having a virus for the last week, I appreciate him so much more, he is the family rock,

I am ok. Just on hold. We did the cardio catscan on last Monday.  I was not able to get my echocardioigram.  I didn’t want to go to the hospital sick. I admit that statement makes no sense.

Tueday we go Dr Stester. I am hoping for a miracle or to hear it was a mistake. Will I get my wish? It would be great but I don’t know how realistic that is. I am preparing for the mind set of surgery. It has be better than Dr Sester tire analogy. ‘We don’t know when it could blow out, or where it might. So we need to take care of that tire so it won’t dissect and blow out.” Now I am old tire. When he was telling me this I had the picture of the Michelin tire guy slowing losing his tread and bulging out. Which then reminded me of a Christian comedian who told the story of her spanks ripping and her bulge where her fat come out and trying to stuff it back into the spanks.

I am not mad at God. I am glad we found this when we did. But part of me wonders why me. In my old school religion days, I would think I was being punished for not being all God wanted me to and not doing good deeds. Now I know God is the God for the redeemed. With the New Covenant he wasn’t pissed off at the disobedience that was shown. 

I at times feel like I have paid my dues for a lifetime; mine and someone else’s too. I have been abused, lived 4 different homes, saw my brother die of a gunshot wound, divorced, become an orphan losing most of my maternal family and my dad, two strokes at 48 years old, stresses of my job and now this. 

I know though that I am blessed. I have so much more than so many. First and foremost I have my personal relationships with my Abba and his son.  I have a loving and forgiving husband that walks his life with integrity. I have loving children who bring me joy, pride and stories to share. I have a home, food, a soft bed to lay on, a television to watch, electronics to watch, read and play on. I have a job I absolutely love. I have eternal friendships that revolve around prayer and sharing of one another.I have family here locally to celebrate with on holidays and bithdays. I may have bills and not a bunch of money but I am soooo rich. I am blessed.

Admittedly, I falter and wonder, why me? Haven’t I paid my dues? I am not as strong as Job or Esther. I am at times faltering knowing I have to trust in Him. Strangely for me, I have not shed a tear.  I know I have Jesus’ arms wrapped around me supporting me but I am a bit scared.

Open heart surgery are not three words you like to hear, the next one us heart and lung bypass machine..but better than hearing you are dying. Not that I am scared of death. I want to hear Peter say at Heaven’s Gate, “table for one in the banquest hall?” I know I won’t hear Satan say,  “you are cooking for a forever banquet and using a campfire to do it, have fun.” Then a maniacal laugh as he exits stage left

So tonight i am inventoring my lif wit brural honesty. I was reminded this week of Senatot Al Frankel when he was on SNL as Stuart Smalley a his daily affirmations…you are good enough, you are strong enough.

So Stuart Smalley I will remember that and plus go forward with a huge dose of God and prayer.


Medical Testing, Insurance and Kids

Today I went for some more medical tests. Today was a cardio  catscan and blood draw or what they call labs. More poking in my veins. They have drawn or iv’d that same spot 5x. That vein is done. It is tired of being the pin cushion. For the next event we will have to find a new vein because this one has retired.

My insurance company and the doctors are sparring over my testing. First they did not give Mr Dr Adams, hemotologist,  authorization for the full panel of labs he wanted and they have denied a med. (The reason I call him Mr Dr Adams is that I also see his wife, Mrs Dr Adams.)

Today we found out the insurance has not approved my nuclear stress test for tomorrow. They decided to postpone my echocardioigram until Wednesday. 

Today’s cardio catscan was easy peasey. The contrast dye did it’s strange warm your body routine that flushes down your body. It is a strange sensation. I have been blessed with the donut hole catscans so there is no feeling of claustrophobia. 

I feel like a frequent hospital member, I need my Mountain View Hospital one and one for Eastern Idaho Regional Medical Center (EIRMC pronunciation Er-mac). I am hoping they can coordinate me to go to one hospital only. Strangely these hospitals are two blocks apart.

We test and we wait. My mammogram did show my lump was benign. So that is one less worry. Strangely that seemed so minor and just an irritation to go through that but they were being thorough.

I go into see Dr Stetser on the 31st. We then go from there.

The Princess is worried. Randomly she will come over to me and say,”I don’t want you to die tomorrow.” I assure I am not. I still am not clear why it is tomorrow. 

She and her Sissy did nails, makeup and hair when Sis was here for the weekend. She loved it so much that she took all my clear polish and put it into a cup to do hers later by herself. I got a nail polish contact high. Lord help us, when that child hits puberty. 

Princess is trying to figure out why the new pup, Chrissy likes to eat her toys. We have explained to her over and over that if they were picked up this wouldn’t happen. But Princess is doing great at taking care of her even if she is stuff animal murderer.

And then their is the Teen. Did you feel the heavy sigh when I typed that. I am trying to see if he is ODD (Oppositional Defiance Disorder) or BTT (Bratty Teen Tyrant). He is a push buttons, backtalking, mocksing, name calling, argumentative, noise making, defiant, violent and a smart ass.  He won’t back down, he won’t admit he is wrong and is explosive. 

He wears me out. Some days more than others. Princess has her special needs…an 8 year old trapped in an 11 year body. She thrives on routine and knowing. She can be a handful. But she can be so sweet. Whereas,  theTeen pushes you just to push and to get a reaction from you. Sadly, they are not usually positive reactions.

We have told him repeatedly that I need to stay calm and not be stressed. He takes that as a dare.  Trying to see how far he can push me until I loose my cool. Then he tells me to calm down. So thus it goes. If I choose to go and calm down, he is at my door pounding. Sigh, I need more inner fortitude. 

God is certainly teaching me patience and anger control. 

Tonight and every night I pray. I pray for clarity, understanding my children and their safety. I pray for each one; the wife, the soldier, the adventurer, the feminist geek, the Teen and the Princess.  I hold them all dear. I pray that each day they are safe and closer to God. I am blessed. 

So today was tests (which you can’t study for), insurance companies that change their mind like the wind and wonky kids-life is good and definitely better than the alternative….being single.

Mo’ Mo’ Snow…Ugh

We got three to five more inches last night here in Idaho Falls.  I am happy we aren’t getting the ice storms that are happening across the nation.  So please understand I am happy about that part.  But I am tired of snow.

The song from White Christmas has been ringing in my head, “Snow, Snow, Snow” and I say enough of the white stuff.  That white stuff that covers up those icy spots.  I have not had to drive in this stuff for over eight years.  And I was satisfied with that.

Yes, I know the farmers need it.  Yes, I know the rivers will be full.  Yes, I know the snow enthusiast who love to be out in this to play (why?) love this.  I have heard all those reasons and I do not begrudge them that. I truly don’t.

But piles and piles of white stuff mounted in small hills is overwhelming.  You can have a sledding hill in the parking lots alone.  Can you guess I am not a fan?  It is pretty to look at initially until the plows make it a yucky gray.  Until the dogs make yellow snow or until you are just tired of the white glare.

I am more a spring/fall girl.  Not super hot, not super cold but just right.  So I wait in great anticipation to see another color but white upon the land.  Colors that will perk me up.  Let me open my windows with little birdies tweeting about.  Brings up images of Snow White in the forest with all her little pals gathered around her.  Aww the idyllic bliss of spring.

I long for spring but all I know right now is they are predicting , mo’ mo’ snow.

Heaving a heavy sigh.

 

 

Tired of being Tired

I was talking to one of my kiddos online and she said she was tired.  I asked if that was physically, emotionally or mentally.  She replied, yup.

Oh my darling daughter, I so understand that.  I know right where you are coming from with that simple sentence, “I am tired”.

I hate that feeling when you feel you can’t get caught up or you are feeling like just giving in to those emotions.  You are like me you hate to be vulnerable but so often we are.  We put on our Teflon clothing hoping things don’t stick to us.  Only to find we can be one sticky gooey mess that has to be painstakingly chiseled away.

Right now my Armour is feeling a bit rusty and dinged.  I want to show bravery and trust in God at all times in all ways.  I don’t want to question why, that is not for me.  God didn’t do this to me; genetics, diabetes, misfortune of life.  It’s not how I have this but how will I deal with it.  I have choices.

Bitterness that will turn me sour and mean.

Self pity that will just swallow me whole.

Acceptance and apathy…so it’s happened

Or fight, don’t let it defeat. Be stronger than this situation.

I am still in a fog.I am not sure what emotion I should have right now.  I am just going through the daily motions waiting for the next step.  What will that be? I have not a clue.  So right now I just keep going,  trying to act normal. Trying not to dwell on my time bomb.

ticking-time-bombBecause that is what this feels like.  You know it’s there, you know it is not good…you made the silly mistake of googling it (doh) and now you know more that you should.  And of course everyone has a  scary story of being related to someone or knowing someone that had an aortic aneurysm . STOP telling me.  I don’t want to know that you know someone who knew someone whose aorta ruptured and they are now dead.

Let me find my own surprises.  This is a lot to take in in one sitting.  You go from you are ok, physically, not perfect by any means to your aorta could dissect and if it does it is hard to save you. Thanks needed that pep talk.

I have said before, it is what it is, I can’t change it.  I try not to think of it and ignore it but it hard to do.  Try telling yourself not to think of something and then see how often you think of that thing.  I am in prayer.

Several people have me on prayer chains..thank you.  Please please pray for all my tired’s. I have appeared strong in my life and I have appeared needy, right now I am on a teeter totter going both ways.  I want to be strong but that is becoming numb.  I want to shut down and just hide away.  Not even a Calgon take me away type of hiding but away as in alone.

Today is another day, there will be a tomorrow and then that will fade  away until there is another tomorrow.  Life continues; it does not stop because Dawn Marie is tired.  It goes on and I make the decision to march on; one step at a time, one moment at a time until I am no longer tired.