Need a Job? I Feel the Same. Time to use Life's BS for Fertilizer

Being chronically ill has made finding a job a nightmare. As one lady put it, "it's great you're doing a lot better but you really don't have much hope for getting a real job." I found this a bit offensive. I know my medical problems limit my ability to hold a typical job. I can't sit for hours in an office and my driving allowances are nil. Still this doesn't mean I don't long for a job. 

I am a people person. Someone capable of talking to anyone about pretty much anything. According to others I have a talent for writing, one of several reasons I take freelance jobs. I once wanted to work in a lab but lost the ability to do simple things like using a microscope (my eye-brain coordination gets thrown off which triggers vertigo and double vision meaning all those beautiful cells start doing a carousel ride). I wanted to do a job focusing on one aspect. Now I want to work with people to help in many aspects. I want to reach out so they know when life hands you a curve you may have to slow down but it does not mean giving in. 

I have learned a great deal about what makes us function. Humans are complex in every way but a part of us is always going to be simple. The need to feel validated, to know our lives have a point. Many people have asked me, 'why bother? What I do doesn't matter. People who say otherwise are full of BS.' I will agree with you even the 'nicest' people have some type of BS. If I had a dollar for every BS statement I wouldn't need a job.

So here is what I have to say "let's take that BS and use it as fertilizer. Fertilizer for something better. I don't mean the 'insert inspiration words here' and then life is great. Life isn't a Lifetime movie. Let's acknowledge the BS in our lives. It's there. It's reality. So what do we do with it? First we take a step back and look at the greater picture. Look at how it is and honestly admit it. Now clear you head and honestly state what you want. Happiness? A bigger home? A better job? What do we want? And now, were do we start to get there. I could detail the steps but I don't want to right here, right now. Why? Because I believe a two hour talk on finding success starts with a ten-minute personal moment of honesty. I can't tell a person what to think or do. That's a great way to change one's thinking for a day but to make a true change in life? That's a bit deeper.

Do a Grouch a Favor Day...Today!

Ironically someone very grouchy informed me this week there is to be a ǵive a gift to a grouch day type thing.' I laughed at this. Looked it up and found not only is there a National Grouch day (October 15th if you are wondering) but today is actually legitimately Do a Grouch a Favor Day.

Problem is most of us tend to have a case of the 'I'm grouchy simply because it's another effing Monday.' Do this mean we should take ourselves out for something to cheer us up? Do ourselves a favor by giving  our grouchy self something to feel good about?

I say...YES YES YES! Let's do our grouchy selves a favor or if you are not feeling grouchy then find someone who is. I promise if you head out you will come across a grouch sooner or later. I would do my best not to offend them as being grouchy is a personal choice. However doing something as simple as giving a simple compliment can end up being a favor to make their day.

As for myself I will do my best to cheer up the grouch I love. For myself I will do a favor to my grouchy moments by enjoying a healthy heap of ice cream tonight. Maybe with a glass of white wine. 

So have a happy February 16th and do a grouch a favor today!

Shooting Star...Death or Love?

Years ago I read when one sees a shooting star it means someone has died. I imparted this wisdom under a night filled with stars. My boyfriend and I were laying out on a summer's eve, under a clear night sky. "Look a shooting star!" Later he told me he thought this would be a romantic moment. The two of us under a starry sky like something from a romantic movie. I think this was the part where I was supposed to lean in and we share a romantic-movie style kiss.

Instead I looked straight at him and proclaimed, 'that means someone died.' Later I would explain this may partly have been due to being under painkillers. The other part being my own belief behind the meaning. Logically our sky would be filled with shooting stars if it meant one for every person who died. No one ever clarified precisely what the death part meant.

I don't view a shooting star as an omen of bad luck. One which should make us afraid of death. In a way I find it a beautiful thought. Almost like a sign the person has moved on from this life. They disappear in a blaze of glory before their soul is sent to one of two places.

I lack a great deal in expressing the romance beauty in life. Love is love. Starry-eyes, kisses under a night sky, and all those Hollywood ideals pale in comparison to true love. Love like spending a night holding the hand of the woman you love as she lays in the ICU. Being there for her through the good days where tremors are few and a chronic illness is easily hidden. Then giving support on the bad days. The ones which are filled with pain, loneliness, and a thought of how much more one can actually take before giving up. To me, this is love.

Every day which passes I feel like I am growing a bit more at understanding this chronically ill life. I am trying my best to understand more to this life. My attempts at growing in the understanding of starry-eyed movie romance woman are not perfect. The long-time boyfriend pronounced the change 'unnerving and a bit weird' at first. I'm not perfect in anything especially not deciphering shooting stars. No matter how many times I see one I will always instantly think 'someone died.' Hardly the thought which prompts delicate kisses.

Instead of declaring love on a shooting star I have started to say it every day. This sent my boyfriend into a panic. He used to feel as though I was saying it because I was going to die. I'm not dying (I hope not anyway). I just don't want to ever face a life where I wish I had said I love you and didn't. No one knows what life holds but we can control what we say about it.

No Idea on Who You Are...Thanks for the Card!

Since being released from the hospital I had one of the most interesting experiences of 2015. My father works in a position where many people know who he is. Thereby, those people generally know who his family is. Especially when one family member gets sick. I received cards from many people who I knew, sometimes just vaguely. Then came the card.

Like almost all the others it was Hallmark made or some top card brand. The envelope was colored although looking back, I don't remember what color and it is relevant to this tale. The same goes with the outside and message inside. Both were lovely but I can't recall either and besides, it is the thought which counts.

The thought which came from...um...who??! I read the name. Blank and Blank Last Name. I hit a blank. Sometimes I have a vague idea only of who a card is from. This time I had no idea. Nada. It's a strange sensation knowing someone cared enough to send a card but you have absolutely no clue who they were. Furthermore, it's nigh impossible to try to decipher it from handwriting.

My father is a master of remembering names although there are still times where a name eludes him. He tries very hard not to have those moments as it is highly awkward to hold a conversation like that. Although there have been several Christmases where my mom opens a card and has to ask him just who the person is. His descriptions alone generally jog the mind.

"Whose the card from?" My dad asks more of routine then curiosity. "I have no idea. Who are these people?" What followed was a description of where I might have seen them (doubtful). Brief overall of the way they looked (total blank). And a round about of 'the man used to go barefoot skiing' (because that is helpful?).

After five minutes of 'helpful' hints I still had a blank. No idea. Obviously they knew who I was, knew my father, and knew me? After thinking about this conundrum several days I have figured out the answer! I have no idea who you are or if we have actually spoken but I do want to thank you! Thank you for the card and thoughtfulness. I appreciate them both! So there. Now whoever you are, if you read this and sent me a get well card then met me and I didn't tell you thank you....well here's a thank you again. And maybe next time you could include a nice photo or a description more helpful than 'excellent at barefoot skiing' (although that is pretty sweet).

Good Friends Make Life Sweeter

Discovering the terrors of turning over twenty-five has been a whirlwind of 'I'm so old!' to 'what is the deal with insurance wait time?! I just need one question answered!!!' Having to recover from surgery which doesn't help the old feeling either, just doesn't make one thrilled over turning another chronically ill year. Had it been a day or two before I would have been starting out my over halfway to fifty from a hospital bed. Since the hospital transistioned to cheap bacon I have to admit even I can only suffer through so many gluten-free muffins before begging for forbidden food.

Yes. I know I am supposed to be sugar-free. Heck. I do pretty well considering my 'cake' was actually a small cupcake which someone creatively arranged three candles in. Since you couldn't only buy one from the GF bakery my mother had to get a second. I ate that on my real birthday where my decision on how to spend it was a let down to just about everyone. I wanted to recooperate. They all wanted to take me out. My boyfriend was the opposite. He wanted me to recooperate. I wanted to get out.

I could go on in stir-crazy frustration if not for one very sweet package. Amidst cards and familiar handwriting arrived a box. I knew it was coming, even had a clue to its contents but had completely forgotten until that moment. I saved it for last because I knew who it was from. She may be five states and hundreds of miles away but she never forgets to say Happy Birthday in her own way. This time with a package from my favorite gluten-free bakery.

I felt like laughing to realize she had gone to the trouble of ordering from hundreds of miles away for me to get my favorites from ten-minutes from here. Then again, when you are not allowed to drive those minutes can feel like a thousand miles. Eating a soft, perfectly delicious, chocolate chip cookie brightens up even the worst insurance malfunctions.

Having good friends in this chronically ill life is like a warm coat in a negative windchill winter storm. They help protect you from the worst and keep you from freezing up in this life. They make life sweeter from a simple card reminding you the miles don't matter. And on the days which make you think life is looking pretty sour they send sweetness your way.

Thanks for the delicious reminder my fellow PGS-fish-duck-impingement-entrainment partner and former roomie. And as your cards says, BFF of course.

ICUs Bring January?

After spending a very eventful Friday in the Intensive Care Unit I find myself musing on January, the month that is down right tricky. For some reason on a month which should be great for many ways I seem to attract hospital visits like vultures to a carcass. Instead of mere Emergency Room visits or surgeries I end up going to the extreme. Friday being the prime example. Okay so my surgery was not something precisely routine. Still having had several laparascopic surgeries I am no stranger to it. Evidently nor am I now to the ICU.

What I know is this: I went in for a day surgery and woke up the next day in the ICU. What I am told is this: I went into a seizure in the recovery room. Every one went a little crazy while I got drugged up to my eyeballs to prevent another one. I do know a lot more now about the situation but everyone is so traumatized I am trying to just do what they are doing. Putting it behind them because hearing your daughter may have to be intabated is just a little to scary to deal with.

Funny how what we remember so little of can have affected the lives of other people so much. Maybe its the cold or just the grey skies but it makes me like January a little bit less each year.

Back from a Medically Needed Hiatus!

It's been months since I've last posted on here for one very very good reason: I've been working hard on a new treatment plan which is showing the first progress I've seen in years! The last time I wrote I had (I think) yet to visit Mayo Clinic. The particulars I will one day share (if tonight was not my night to make dinner I would try to today). 
 

All smiles with my niece and brother at the MC aquarium

Those are not what matter. What matters is finding a neurologist who has been instrumental in working with a cardiologist and internal medicine for my health. With their help I am taking treatment towards my chronic illness in the right direction. Instead of treating it with medication alone I was told 'the approach doesn't work because medication only takes care of 20% of the issue. You need the medication but there is so much more beyond that!' 

So for the past two months I have been doing physical therapy each week, working on reversing my body's deconditioning, seeing a new doctor who is detangling my medication soup (with help from endocrinology) and learning to manage my conditions with small changes to everyday tasks.

Also, I am writing freelance once again. More to come but now...on to making a Gluten Free Tuscan Chicken Penne.