Pardon The Interruption

Life at a Standstill

No. I don’t expect to re-appear after more than a year of silence and just pick up where I left off; crawl out of the woodwork without so much as a ‘beg your pardon’ or ‘by your leave.’

No. I don’t expect to magically show up and ‘skin my teeth’ (grin from ear to ear) but offer not a single word of explanation for my absence; nothing in response to your ‘I wonder what happened to that sunshine woman?’

I didn’t plan on going AWOL so please pardon the interruption.

Let me try to explain.  I think you deserve  more than some perspicuous alibi, some neatly pre-packaged excuse like writers’ block or brain-fog.

The thing is I’m not sure I even know what really happened!! I have my theories but still trying to figure it out.

So, what happened? I found myself struggling with life.

I was trying to sleep not the sheep

Struggling to get out of bed in the mornings because I’d spent all night counting sheep trying to sleep, (me trying to sleep not the sheep), then struggling to stay awake all day because I can’t stand missing out on the sunshine but being too tired to do anything but vegetate on the sofa having lost interest in even trying to convince myself to  do anything.

Struggles are required in order to survive life, because in order to stand up, you gotta know what falling down is like.                                                                          Unknown

I found myself struggling not to lose weight (all the precious pounds I’d gained over the last two years) because I was constantly feeling ‘as sick as a dog‘ and couldn’t force myself to eat more than a bite (literally), despite all the children starving in Africa (sorry Ma).

I’m rambling aren’t I?

Let me try again. So, what happened?

I had been calmly wading through life (you know my general status – fair to fine with occasional scattered showers) then .  . . stagnation. A thick, gooey stagnation sneaked up on me like fog in a gully, tussled me off my feet and

No pink blanket!

left me catsprattled (sprawled) on the sofa, flat on my back, feckless, somewhere in the dim of a twilight zone and  with no pink blanket to wrap myself in.

Sometimes just surviving from one day to the next is all you can do. That’s okay because only the strong survive.                                                                                           Unknown

I just laid there. . . passively. And must have been doing a real good job of it too, ‘cause I was getting a whole lot of nothing done.

Needless to say, doing all that nothing came with a hearty dose of guilt which in turn conjured up even more nothingness! Hence the inevitable interruption for which I am now beseeching your pardon.

“Do it for her,” my husband calmly said one evening after dinner. I’d been whining, again, (yep, an emotional malfunction) about turning down yet another lunch date with a friend (and social withdrawal too!).

“Don’t do it for you, do it for her.” That was as much  he cared to elucidate.  But the sparse words spoken so gently in his casually, unassuming manner was all it took to break the spell  and jolt me into the reality of my need for an  attitude adjustment.

Only a life lived for others is worthwhile. Albert Einstein

Somehow in the struggle to maintain myself, I’d lost sight of my life’s mission – not merely to survive, but to thrive, just as Maya Angelou said, and that meant being there for the people I care about with the people I care about.

So please pardon the interruption.

Coping with the Tough Stuff Too

5 Suggestions to help you navigate the difficult times.

Strength does not come from winning. Your struggles develop your strengths. When you go through hardships and decide not to surrender, that is strength.

 Arnold Schwarzenegger

You know what? Even the luckiest of us has had to deal with some serious bumps in the road, and if you haven’t yet, you will. That’s just the way life works. I didn’t make the rules – just saying.

Now it may not be your typical ‘take-your-black-suit-out-of-the-mothballs’ kind of stuff, not life-threatening or anything, but a major pothole none-the-less.

Take migraines for instance. Some people still think, migraine – no big deal; stop being a wuss, suck it up, swallow two Advil and get back to business as usual.

In case you, my reader, are a bit backward when it comes to “migrainology” (yes, I just made that word up . . . but what the heck, I live in America!), a migraine is not just a bad headache. It’s a neurological disease – changes your brain, the way it works and everything; one of the top 10 disabling diseases and can lead to stroke and coma.

Now that is tough sh*t right there! I won’t even want to think of dealing with that, yet millions deal with it daily.

I guess what I am saying is that other people’s challenges often seem much more arduous than your own but the thing is, it’s all relative. There’s no comparison. Don’t think for one minute that because I have AIH and you just have a URI, you have no right to be heard.

The ABC’s of Medical Conditions

So, whether it is PMS or CFS, EDS or HIV, SAD or TTH (ABC, XYZ or any of the myriad combinations of letters), if it significantly affects your quality of life; if it sometimes drives you to the brink of insanity/despair – it’s tough stuff. How do you cope?

Here are 5 strategies that have been working for me.

FACTS

Find out the facts, everything you can – all the “WHAT’s”: what you need to know; what to expect; what were the experiences of others; what are some of the things you can do that could help . . .  Punch in a Google search, I guarantee you’ll find something about anything – online communities and support groups, personal blogs (knowing that there are others like you is often reassuring), reliable information from qualified professionals.

Blot out myths and stigmas. You’ll feel better without all the false, scary stuff haunting your outlook. With greater knowledge comes a sense of empowerment and the ability to adapt to your situation.

 

ACCEPT

Accept your situation for what it is – neither a sign of weakness nor a measure of your worth – simply a straight-up fact. Ostomy bag, insulin pump, oxygen compressor, prosthetic breast . . . whatever, is nothing more than a life enhancing medical appliance.

So you wade through the initial feelings of embarrassment, self-blame, guilt, anger, depression; acknowledge your limitations and hoist self-care to a priority position at the top of your list. Don’t resign, simply accept and work with what you got.

 

INDWELL

Get on with living your life. You’ll probably need a little time to adjust but whatever you do, don’t let your situation become the center of your world. Set realistic short-term goals as stepping stones to your ultimate goal – a full and satisfying life.

 

TALK

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that you should broadcast your situation to every Tom, Dick and Harry but when you involve those around you – positive, caring family and friends – it strengthens your support network. I’ve found that generally, people can be quite understanding. The more people who know, the more support you’ll have, the lighter the burden of secrecy.

Secrets are heavy. Feelings of isolation are real. You need a strong support network. Talk about what is happening to you. There, I’ve made my case.

 

HUMOR

Lighten up! A little sense of humor can go a long way in coping with difficult situations. By changing your perspective, humor can combat fear and anxiety. Learn to laugh at life.

Facts; Accept; Indwell; Talk; Humor

The bottom line – have F.A.I.T.H.

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Living With Jen: Coping with the Tough Stuff

My first two months as an ostomate; facing the challenge with a sense of humor.

So, it’s been a while – 8 weeks, 5 days, 5 hours, 11 minutes, since I last posted anything. Yes, I have a dang good excuse. No, I am not getting into it now; enough to say there was a major, medical crisis.

Right now, there is something I’m dying (wrong word choice) eager to tell you about.

I gotta tell you about ‘Jen’ – my newest acquaintance, closer to me than anyone or anything has ever been or will ever be. And I say that with mixed feelings.

Living with a life-threatening chronic disease ain’t no sweetbread and ofentimes the fixer-upper is big and ugly and all up in your face – not to be hidden or side-stepped. Then you have to find a way to face it head on while keeping your pride and dignity intact.

The first time I saw Jen she scared the bejeezels outta me – not at all a pleasant meeting. To say she repulsed me would be a gross understatement. I barely acknowledged her presence, turned my head away and did my darndest to un-see what I had seen; to forget that she even existed – as if that were possible.

‘Jen’ my brand-new, strawberry-red stoma.

You see, Jen is my newest body part (for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer and all that stuff); my brand-new, strawberry-red stoma – standing about 25 millimeters tall and 35 millimeters around. Yes, she takes up a lot of real estate on my belly.

Now if you are like I was before this last crisis of mine, the word stoma will probably take you back to high school plant biology: stoma – one of the pores on a leaf that allows plants to breathe. Well, Jen is not that kind of stoma. Let’s get on the same wavelength here.

When the doctors got done snipping the cancer out my gut, they deliberated, then concluded that my best chance for long term survival was not to try to reconnect the two pieces of intestine that were left. Instead they did an ileostomy. That means they poked a hole in the abdominal wall and stuffed the end of the small intestine through to the outside, so digestive waste products would be able to leave my body via that new route. Gross, I know, but what can I say?

Sh*t happens! Whether you want it to or not.

So, Jen must always wear her little baggie (ostomy bag) and guess who gets to clean up????? Why none other than yours truly. Beginning to see why I have such mixed feelings about Jen?

Jen and I

But she is my lifesaver, so I guess I should be grateful . . . and really I am. Dr. Russ warned that she MAY have to stay with me permanently, but, there is always that possibility that one day we may part ways – dare I dream of it.

Anyway, I am earnestly trying to get along with Jen.

For starters, I named her; sort-a figured that if we were to become intimate friends, we should at least be on a first name basis. That would be a logical first step for any long-term relationship. I mean, how can you live with someone 24-7 and don’t know what to call her?

Yes, my stoma is a ‘she’. I am sure of it – the incessant yammering, the constant compulsion to remind me of her presence, the irrepressible need to voice an opinion on just about everything – especially food. She is perpetually grumbling and squawking about what, when and how much I should eat. If only she weren’t so bossy!

She gurgles when I try to sleep on my back but groans when I roll over on my side; gripes when I bend over to tie my shoe laces and balks about the way I wear my seat-belt, not too low, not too high, just the right distance away from her. If only she weren’t such a stickler!

High maintenance? Definitely. And she has no qualms about butting into my private conversations (the busybody!) – just ask my husband, he’d back me on that score.

We go shopping together, Jen and I, but she doesn’t pay for anything (the cheap flibbertigibbet). The truth is, she insists on going shopping with me – as if I can even stop her – and I don’t mean that she just tags along. She dictates what I should buy! I must select loose fitting blouses – nothing that would make her stand out too much as she is very particular about her appearance (I am too). Pants and skirts must have an elasticized waist – nothing to squeeze too tight, her majesty demands comfort. If only she weren’t so fussy!

The anticipated ‘box with a smile.’ Jen’s stuff was not in this one. Probably next time.

Recently, I’ve found myself shopping online for toiletries just for her, and outfits – comfortable and tastefully colorful – apparel that she can lounge around the house in!

I have to admit though, that shopping for Jen has moved me one step closer to accepting her presence in my life. I think I may even smile when the UPS guy drops ‘the box with a smile’ on my doorstep.

We have become pretty close now. I actually made a few outfits for her myself and enjoyed doing it – coordinating outfits for me and my new bosom buddy and possible life-long pal. Sigh.

Jen’s first custom-made outfit

Jen and I have been together almost 2 months now and beginning to have some good days; days when we’re not bickering, and peace reigns for a couple hours at a time.

I keep trying to learn as much as I can about my stoma and the world of living as an ostomate (someone who has a stoma) – not just knowing, but really understanding the ‘how-to’s and the ‘why-not’s; and being able to look past the ‘what-if’s and shouldn’t-I’s.

Scouring the internet, I was relieved to find that my situation would no longer be considered a true anomaly. In the USA alone, there are over 130,000 ostomy surgeries yearly (I couldn’t find stats for Barbados). A huge community is out there sharing similar experiences. There is even an internationally recognized “World Ostomy Day” (first Saturday in October).

I think I am finally past the sentiment (well, almost) that Jen is one of those ‘dirty little secrets’ that must be kept in the closet at all costs. I am growing in appreciation for all she is doing to keep me alive and well. So what if I always have to foot her bill?

For now, I am thankful we are inseparable.

A Healing Touch

When God touches your life, it lets you touch the life of others.

Ever since Adam was a lad, touch had been used for physical, psychological and spiritual healing.

Wall carvings dating back to 3000 BC, show the ancient Egyptians using healing massages.

The power of ‘the royal touch’ was believed to be evidence of God’s high esteem.

Medieval kings and queens of Europe were supposedly able to ‘heal’ their subjects by simply applying ‘The Royal Touch’.

Me – the silent skeptic, never thought much of ‘the laying on of hands’. Ignorance? Lackadaisicalness?(Yes it’s a valid word. I checked). I prefer naiveté – that doesn’t sound quite so callous.

Healing people just by touching them? Pshaw! As far as I was concerned, that claim fell out of the same superstitious bag as Ouija boards, palm reading, and horoscopes.

But had I been more attentive, more open-minded . . .

Jesus, the greatest healer of all times never, ever carried a medicine bag. Yet he healed and continues to heal thousands.

Moved with compassion, Jesus touched their eyes and immediately they regained their sight and followed him. Matthew 20:34.

And how do you know when God has touched your life? The real question should be, how do you not know when God has touched your life?

Let me tell you about one of the times when God literally touched me. And when it happened I didn’t even recognize it for what it truly was.

Feel like hearing a story? Doesn’t matter, I’ll tell it anyway!

Here’s my story: Continue reading “A Healing Touch”

Reach out and Touch

Six little-known tidbits about the power of touch.

I’ve learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

Maya Angelou

“Ms. Brewster” – my name called from the registration area at my back.

I scrambled to get purse, coat, book and travel mug together but there was no need as the registering nurse had stepped from behind the patterned glass partition, flimsy ID bracelet in hand and a smile on her face.

“I’ve got something for you,” she announced – a genuine smile, contagious.

“What’s your birth date Hon?” Southern drawl. “I see you’ve got one coming up” – eyes double-checking my info on the paper wrist-band in her hand.

When she looked up again the smile was still there. “Not allergic to latex, are you?”

I have enough of these paper bracelets to cover a wall.

Carefully taping the bracelet around my extended wrist, Continue reading “Reach out and Touch”

Where are the Tears?

12 thoughts to ease your fears about letting teardrops fall.

I never expected a diagnosis of Cancer. I was completely blindsided. That day in February – the day before valentine’s day, Dr. O called. “Is your husband at home with you?”

That could mean only one thing, bad news. “Colon cancer.” A simply stated fact, delivered like a package by the UPS Guy.

Continue reading “Where are the Tears?”

Big Girls (and Boys) Don’t Cry: But You Should

It’s good to cry sometimes. 5 benefits of tears you probably never knew about.

You ever heard of a “Crying Club?” A place where you go to cry. They exist. No fooling. I saw it on the internet.

Now if you’re thinking about someplace like the ‘cry room’ at church or the theatre downtown (those sound-proof, viewing rooms where desperately embarrassed parents hustle off with bawling babies), think again.

These clubs are for adults and not only for high-strung, overly emotional women, or liberated men who’ve proudly tapped into their ‘feminine side’.

Crying Clubs cater to everyone, including businessmen.

Apparently, crying clubs have been around in Japan for years – rui-katsu they’re called, which literally means “tear seeking.” Even some hotels like The Mitsui Garden Yotsuya Hotel has designated rooms just for crying.

In Britain, the first crying club – referred to as a Misery Club, opened back in 2007 – “Loss.” That place was a hit! It said so on the internet.

So what’s all the crying about?

Continue reading “Big Girls (and Boys) Don’t Cry: But You Should”

Live the Life you Love

Get started on realizing your bucket list and making memorable life-stories. 12 prompts to motivate you.

Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day. Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now! There are only so many tomorrows.

Pope Paul VI

So you say you’ve never had a bucket list? You sure? Think back to when you were a child and fill in the blank:

“When I grow up, I want to _____.”

There was the first item on you bucket list. Have you followed through on it yet?

If not, what are you waiting for?

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The Bucket List

“One day, you will wake up and there wouldn’t be anymore time to do the things you’ve always wanted. Do it now.” – Paulo Coelho

A living, breathing alligator right next to me. O-M-G, I could hardly believe it! If I stretched out my hand I could’ve almost touched it – no cage, no protective glass, just the low metal side of the flimsy-looking air-boat we sat in.

Alligator in Florida Everglades

First the eye – large, oily black, sleepy looking; Continue reading “The Bucket List”

Live Life to the Fullest

How long do you have to wait before you begin to enjoy your life and live it to the fullest? 12 affirmations to get you started.

I knew Lindsay would be there when I arrived. She always was; either behind her desk in the reception area or in the consult room helping Dr. J with a procedure. Wherever she was, once those bells on the door jangled, she’d sing out, “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Over the years Lindsay became a friend and I looked forward to seeing her and catching up. The fact that I was there for another dreaded dental appointment became a distant secondary event.

Enjoy the journey of life for it is as much about how you get where you are going as it is where you go.

There will always be opportunities to take joy in life and with an open mind, we learn to find them.

We have the control to make every day a special day, regardless of whatever else may be going on.

Here are 12 reminders to keep you on the joyful track.

Remember as usual, if viewing on a mobile device, you may need to zoom out to see the full posters.

posters created by livinginthesunshine.net. Photo credit: Charles D. Waterman.