Upcoming week

We’re going over to our daughter Kharisma’s next week for a BBQ. I’m looking forward to seeing her and spending time with LaLa’s mom. Will get over to Ozra’s some time this week. I haven’t seen his new apartment yet. May see Rikki later today.

Started laundry about 6 a.m. this morning. Thinking about a camping trip next month. Don’t think we’ll go for more than a day. Was invited for the few days, but I won’t leave my dogs that long. Just can’t do it. I do love camping though. Great family memories of the times we spent in Rumsey at the Cache Creek Campground in Yolo County.

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I like to visualize a little cabin or hut on a beach. No electricity, no internet, bare necessities, a few books, and my dogs. Yes, my husband too but I’d probably be the one to have to hunt for our food, cook it, serve it, and clean up after it.

Never mind! I don’t want the beach anymore. lol

Happy Tuesday!

 

 

 

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Check out

I spent the morning with my family before check out. Last night was suppose to be G’bye for now, but my husband took me back over this morning so that I could braid my moms hair and see her one more time. They should arrive back home in Georgia in about 10 days.

I was spoiled with other life stories I had never heard, a new bathing suit (Okay not really new but brand new to me. It was my little sisters new one :)). I was spoiled with precious time, love, and new memories with them. They gifted me with a new hip/shoulder bag from Disneyland. I felt like a little kid again. My littlest sister asked me again to move to Georgia, my mom wishes I could. I had made plans to go last year yet there would be so much to do in order to. I’d either have to sell my home or rent it out, repair it before any of that and just toss most of it away. While I want to my biggest concern or worry if you will is letting it all go to start over and then if I lost them I’d be left in a place that’s not my home. It’s only my home because it’s theirs and I’ve never lived there. Home is where the heart is until the heart no longer exists.

I can adapt to change because I have to. I don’t favor it otherwise and I rather not seek it to find it. Ha! Change is really the only thing that’s constant.

“The way up and the way down are one and the same”. ~Heraclitus

This year has truly been a blessing on so many levels. I’ve come so far in such little time. Enlightened at a much higher level. As an empath/sensitive I always carried my pain and yours. And while I may not ever be able to set that aside, I know better to remove myself from such pains that instigate my own.

My physical pain is manageable without any medications. My emotional stability is stable. Neither of these are to insinuate they no longer exist but instead show that even in trauma regardless of the type or anything overlapping that our animal instinct as humans can guide our survival.

What a ride it’s been!

RSD/CRPS and other conditions as well stimulate the stress response. Fight or Flight. Fight or run away. Fight, flight or freeze as it’s also come to be known. If your hungry you’re going to find your food. If you’re threatened your survival instinct is to survive. If you’re in pain your instinct would be to relieve it. Pain of any kind effects our minds. Some people are enraged to hear such things because they have to defend their pain as not being mental. It’s all mental. Without your brain, you’re mind, we couldn’t feel pain therefore mental health is always a coexisting factor.

Isolation.

Aside from having not driven but a handful of times in 17 years due to the CRPS injury and having to rely on my husband and then my children to go anywhere at all and the fact that my drivers license continues to dangle on the edge of suspension due to Narcolepsy, I’m more interested in being able to again than saying I never will.

I’m more interested in recognizing other peoples pain than I am in awareness right now. I love listening to other people’s stories because lets face it everyone is unique in what they endure. Without those people there isn’t anything to raise awareness for.

I didn’t want to see my mom go but I have to adapt again to not having her. I will.

Ozra, Me and Mom - June 30, 2017 resized

June 30th, 2017. Saying G’bye before they drove to Disneyland and the last time my son would be with his grandparents on this trip.

My son has only met his grandparents a few times in his life. My mom and my step father. He’s never met my dad as he was already deceased 6 years before Ozra was born. Ozra has never met his paternal grandparents because they both died years before his birth. I can still remember his little voice asking me “Why didn’t they stay to meet me”?Heartbreaking. Our daughters being much older than him had the privilege of meeting all of them and they do retain vague memories. Happy ones.

Ozra and Mom resized

I have a really tall son! Us girls are all shorties. I’m actually the tallest of my mom and my sister (the one she gave birth to, not my adopted sister. Wait! I’m taller than Rosie, too! :)). My sons dad, my husband of 30+ years is inches shorter. His sisters (Same father of course) have no height either. Our second daughter Rikki is an inch taller than I. Kharisma didn’t get an extra inch. ~laughs. Our grandson is already taller than me and he’s 11.

Progress continues.

If I don’t get outside to my little pool and do my routines, I’ll dwell on not having done it. 😛

I love you mom!

Survival Instinct

My first experience with suicide was when I was barely anything more than a toddler. I can still remember it all so vividly. Wandering an empty house, trying to care for my crying baby sister who was still in a crib. My life as a caregiver began that day. My sister and I are 2 and one half years apart in age.

My mother and father were 10 years apart. To be more specific, 9 and 1 half, the same number of years our son is to his oldest sister and the same amount of time between our son and grandson.

My mom inherited 3 children from my dad. She was 19, him nearly 30. She was suddenly the step mother to children between 6 and 12. My sister and I are her only children with my dad. My mom and dad were married 25 years when he died of cancer.

My dad was a very dominant man who used his hands on her at his will. I wasn’t 16 yet when he was first diagnosed with lung cancer. He had a partial lung removal. When I was 22 it returned with a vengeance. By this time I had been married 4 years and had 2 beautiful daughters. That same year I lost my twins. One ectopic the other was lost during the exploratory laparotomy which would make me never be able to have children again. I would give birth to a son months before my 30th birthday. 3 years later I would have the injury that led to CRPS. 1 year before my injury we lost our rental home and it’s entire contents to a fire. My husband and our son was in that fire. My husband not only threw our little son out the window, but managed to, having already been burned make it to the connecting unit and help them and their baby out of it.

I worked on the main avenue and I heard all the sirens. I remember my heart sinking of fear and then I dismissed it as an overactive imagination. 30 minutes or so later an officer came into my work and asked for me personally. He said “Ma’am you need to come with me now”. I asked “Why?”. He responded “your home is ablaze”. “Where’s my husband, where’s my baby? Tell me their alive. He said “I don’t know”.

I dropped to my knees because I knew I left them sleeping when I went to work. When we arrived 2 blocks were blocked off and I could see the flames raging out what had been my kitchen window into the street. He told me to stay in his car but I couldn’t. I ran toward my house. There were so many people in the streets, fire, rescue, police, even the American Red Cross was on the scene before I was and I don’t think that officer could have gotten me there any quicker. I ran away from him and into chaos. Eventually I seen my husband near an ambulance. His fingers were burned so badly that they looked like freddy krugar knives. Part of his ear was melted off, all facial hair gone. His chest was burned and his feet were bare. His face was burned and blistering, he had severe smoke inhalation. My baby was already en route to the hospital. I’ll never be able to describe that emotion. My husband was taken after I got to him. My son went out the window in a diaper, my husband was in his underwear.

The red cross put us up in a motel after assessing all that it was. It was all gone. We still had our jobs. My husband never took disability for that event instead he used his accumulated sick leave and vacation. I walked to work for weeks. Between the fire and the fear I reduced my weekly work hours to be with my children and as a result when I became injured it would alter compensation for the next chapters of my life. While my WC disability rating is above 70 percent I would go on to received $76.04 a month. Less than the minimum under the state. I would receive only “wages” instead. Had I not lessened my work hours the quarter before, my lifetime stipend would have been considerably more.

My career prior to this job was high management. Restaurant Management. I took that job at the time so that I could be farmer’s little duck without any title or responsibility other than my own cashier position. I was the manager on duty the night of my injury. I wasn’t a manager. What I was is someone often used for another persons gain. Someone who would give, and then give some more. Sort of like the last 16 years of CRPS as well.

Within a couple of years of that first suicide experience I was molested for the first time. That would continue for another 2 years at least and because I was the oldest of my sister and I, I would end up taking the brunt of it for her.

I learned really young to hold it. I learned so well that by the time unrelenting physical pain came I couldn’t show it enough. Not out in the world. Only online. Only in words.

Facebook is one of my flaws because it becomes too easy to say too much even if the intention is well.

My birth daddy, no matter how hard would lead me into never being able to speak up for myself. He didn’t allow me to complain or not feel well. Just like my mama. My mama never had a voice, couldn’t laugh or play. She couldn’t have friends and she couldn’t want to be around her own family. Even when she went to real-estate school she was accused of doing something wrong. I would end up submissive and someone who could only give, but never receive.  That man did me right even so. I would be the one to close his eyes when he died. I would be the one to pry his hands off the hospital bed railing that he must have grabbed onto as he was taking his last breaths. I would be the one to wake my mom when it was over. My dad died in the home of my husband and I are our 2 little daughters.

I would end up someone who would give everything above herself. I would end up being someone who could hold intense pain so well that not even a professional could recognize it without diagnostic proof enough to believe.

I would end up losing another child after the same injury that led to RSD/CRPS, one I never thought could be possible because I was told it wasn’t possible. I would lose that baby because of consequences directly related to it. I have finally let that go to the extent that I carried it just this year.

December of 2012 my husband had a quadruple bypass. He had his first heart attack at 37. 2 stents were placed in his heart. He had another heart attack within a couple of years. He was diagnosed with Diabetes during the first. I never left the hospital and because I couldn’t drive, I slept outside in the van in a really hard winter.

Less than a year before that our son had a Traumatic Brain Injury. He was intubated, and in a coma. He sustained a severe trauma to his frontal lobe in addition to other areas of his brain. I never left the hospital for that 11 days either. When he was 17 and his back was being evaluated due to the head injury we learned from Shriners Hospital that he was born with birth defects of his spine. I’m grateful that the doctor never told me he was in trauma as I gave birth to him because the cord was wrapped entirely around his neck and his body. The doctor literally spun him out of me. I gave birth to Ozra entirely natural. Had I known, my body may have reacted in fear and inadvertently caused his death.

In 2013, our oldest daughter would be diagnosed with a rare liver disease called EHE. She’s been on the liver transplant list. I wanted to be a living donor for her but because I had part of my liver removed just months before, and because I also have lesions on my liver in other areas, and because the vessels in mine are adverse, I haven’t been able to go forward. If I die, my child will have my liver. It’s still good enough for someone who needs one. It’s not good enough while I’m living.

My daughter Rikki has served in the U.S. Army. She would have been deployed to Afghanistan with a rifle in her hands. A military training session would bring her back home. She’s never sought disability compensation. The incident to be clear was not her fault she was just someone receiving the worse of it.

Our children are 29, 28 and 20.

I would be fine through it all. I would fake it to make it. I would compartmentalize all of the before in order to survive CRPS and coexisting diagnosis’ and developments. . Until physical pain reached a level I couldn’t breathe through, think through, or feel anything else through. I had fell into the CDC Guidelines being created and implemented, the physicians who became afraid to prescribe or consider us as anything more than the less than that we became.  I would be fired from pain management of 12 years 6 days after that first suicide attempt.

The first time I attempted suicide on Valentine’s Day of 2016 I was 11 days off medications. Medications I had appealed, won, yet never received. I wanted to be happy I survived. I wasn’t. The second time April 19th of 2016, I’ll never know how I survived that one. The 3rd time, January of 2017, I understood after that I’m not obligated to anyone. I’m not responsible for anyone other than mine. I don’t owe anyone anything that I didn’t return mutually already.

I know what I’m indebted to and it sure isn’t anyone here.

I love my mama who I’ve only seen but a few times in 20 years, and I love both of my fathers equally because one gave me my first 22 years of life and the other has been for this rest of it. But most of all my dad now has given my mom everything my dad couldn’t give her. A life without being hit, belittled, or scorned. My dad suffered from his own mental health dilemma’s because he was cheated on in his first marriage. He believed my mom wouldn’t ever be faithful. She was and she is.

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I would end up someone who wouldn’t take any kind of ka ka from anyone, anymore.

Even at my weakest points, I’ll always survive you.

 

 

 

Making New Memories

I went swimming with my family yesterday. When my Grandson arrived at the Hotel I swam a lap with him. It was the first time I had ever actually swam with ‘Tai. I’ve spent hours in little pools with him over the years, but swimming wasn’t included.

Pool side conversations of past, present and future were plentiful. My mom told me of a conversation my sister had with someone, a statement regarding who would love her and care for her if my mom and dad passed from this life. My mom told her that I would. And I will. My parents are a year from their 70’s. Rosie is 15.

I told my grandson that I would be over soon to spend the day with him. I miss being with him. I need to go see my sons new place too.

What I need to do first though is see my mom again later this afternoon or evening as they’re staying another night in order to spend time with my step brother today. They’re at Church right now. They do that even when they’re away from home.

I’ve always said a prayer over food, even if it’s a silent one. My mom always says one for everyone at a table whether those people pray or not because she doesn’t want the devil sitting down to eat with her. It’s both hilarious (I mean no disrespect) and quite serious because now I can’t eat because of that most scary image implanted in my mind. I must pray differently now before taking a bite. lol Truth.

I wish you all a beautiful day.

Image Credit by Ozra September 24, 2015 Bay Area CA_1.

Image Credit by Ozra

 

 

Family and Blessings

My mom and dad arrived in Sacramento June 28th and headed to Southern California on July 1st. Today I’ll see them once more before they leave back to Quincy and then drive back to Georgia.

They came so that my dad could see his brother and make funeral arrangements for him due to inoperable end stage cancer. My dad also has cancer and my mom has a pacemaker keeping her heart beating.

They took my sister and her friend to Disneyland this last week as she had never been there before. My little sister was born my niece, but my parents have raised her since she was a baby and so I acknowledge her as my sister instead.

thankful- grateful- blessed

This visit was the first time in all my 16 years that I was able to be with them without taking naps, or laying down. Without being overwhelmed by pain or in a mindset of pain. I even swam a few laps for the first time in all those years. My arms and legs did fairly well, my lower spine ended up flaring a little afterward and that might be because of the prior week and having started more aggressive movements and stretches for my back in my little pool.

I might not be able to do the things I still have wishes for, but I know that everything I’m doing is keeping my blood flowing better throughout my extremities, and I know that each stretch is keeping my flesh circulating with less tissue restriction and edema and therefore keeping pain from reaching an uncontrollable point.

For certain my orthotics also make an incredible difference because when I don’t wear them my entire physical alignment is disturbed and I end up leaning forward just to be up after standing. Having flat feet never did me any justice.

My family will be arriving back in Sacramento in a couple of hours and then I’ll be spending the remainder of the day with them before saying G’bye for now this evening.

Heading out to my kiddie pool to get an hour in before meeting them.

Love ‘n light.

 

 

 

The Rink

It’s been nearly 4 months since I first started the Gohl Program and underwent Manual Ligament Therapy (MLT) developed by Arik Gohl. You can check out my Case Study Documentation or my uncut documented sessions at Gohl Program TV on YouTube.

I had never skated with my 11 year old grandson. My own son who’ll turn 20 next month has no recollection of ever experiencing anything like that with me. I did take him when he was 2 and his sisters were pre teens, but only I have that memory for him. Ozra was 3 when the injury happened that led to my CRPS. Our girls were 11 and 12.

Night before last we went to pick up our grandson and we went skating. Next time it will be both he and Ozra with our girls, and a few others.

We shared on Facebook Live where I did fall in front of everyone, and I did get back up to try again. Here we are, hand in hand, (Pink blouse up against rail).

I never made it around the rink, but I made it onto the rink several times. I watched as people did all the things I once could also. Speed skate, skate backwards, dance skate. I use to love playing red light green light.

I might not be able to do any of those again, but one day, I will make it around the rink at least once.

No inline skating for me, not now, sometimes you have to start with 4 wheels.

Without MLT this would have never been possible.

 

 

 

 

Highs and Lows

I reactivated Facebook and my posts were all positive highs. My lows would come eventually and they did. 4 days ago I began weaning myself from the 30 of Cymbalta to 15, I had already reduced from 60 to 30. I’ll never know until I’m completely off of it again if my choice to do so can be a positive outcome. After more than a half dozen times in less than 2 years of abrupt discontinuation and what the brain itself goes through just to get through it, I have no idea if I’ll ever be what I was before ever starting it over a decade ago. Perhaps I should not have allowed anyone to put me back on it for nerve damage/depression after I was off it for nearly 6 months in 2016. Cymbalta is a Selective Serotonin Norepinephrine Reuptake Inhibitor.

https://www.drugs.com/cymbalta.html

http://www.fda.gov/Safety/MedWatch/SafetyInformation/SafetyAlertsforHumanMedicalProducts/ucm150748.htm

When we consider that the chemicals in our brains are altered by the use of these medications, common sense dictates an effect, adverse or otherwise, when removing them from our bodies. The natural chemicals have to work again, or not. It’s not so simple, but it’s understood.

My husband has been in failing health for years. Finally, I think he’s taken to heart the importance of what he can do for himself with or without myself to prevent further illness and even restore that which has already declined.

Sometimes it’s takes doing something profound to make a profound difference. ~Twinkle EKV

Don’t worry my friends it may seem like something is wrong but on the contrary everything is quite right or where it should be right now.

I promised my kids that if I ever felt like going where I had before, I’d do one thing. I did. I kept that promise and they kept theirs. That’s reestablishing trust and commitment.

I’m a little too smart, and a little too dumb to let an opportunity to help someone else pass us by. That’s okay because I love being both.

If I stopped talking about it all the purpose in the purpose itself would fade. That would mean that there would be no impact to make to show people they can physically heal, and when they heal, those emotions can also.

Somebody asked me if I still have a job..

Yes I do,

Until I don’t.

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Image Source: Manifestation Divine