Students -- Again!

In mid-April I had an appointment with a recruiter at a Medical Assistant school and, in an determined effort to get Matthew out of the house and away from online gaming, I dragged him with me. I stretched the truth a little by telling him it would be good for him to see the recruiting process in general because he had recently expressed an interest in taking a few college classes.

I was pleasantly surprised when, in the meeting with the recruiter, Matthew expressed an interest in the medical field. I was flat-out shocked -- SHOCKED! --quite happily, that Matthew asked to enroll, too!

On April 14th, Matthew and I started the Medical Assistant program together. We're even in the same classes. Pretty cool, huh? (Yeah, I think so, too!!)

What many people don't know about me is that my first career choice has always been in the field of medicine. In fact, my dream has always been to become a Neonatologist (caring for preemie babies). After spending three months searching for a job in the accounting or administrative assistant field -- fields I literally stumbled into but could never shake because the money was so good -- I finally threw my hands up in surrender and decided to circle back to my first love. Medicine.

Matthew has really impressed me with, not only his knowledge of anatomy and physiology, but by how much he participates in class -- and by how well he does on assignments and tests. (Without studying, I might add.)

We recently studied and learned to perform ECG's (also known as EKG's) on our peers and Matthew instantly became the teacher's pet by his unabashed willingness to be the patient for anybody who needed one.

It is the BEST career decision I have ever made.

Car Accident

I was on my way home from school on May 6th, minding my own business, paying attention to the heavy, rush-hour traffic when I heard a SQUEAL! CRASH! At the exact same time I looked in my rear view mirror, I heard another CRASH! as my body pitched forward against my seat belt and my head was whipped so hard and fast into space that the force dislodged my sunglasses from my face. (Later, I found my sunglasses and stuffed Scuba Duck up near/under my brake pedal.) In that same instant I realized I was being shoved forward -- headed for the vehicle in front of me -- and slammed on my brakes in an effort to avoid hitting her. No luck.

When my Jeep came to a stop I jumped out of it, and into the center turn lane, and started walking toward the instigator of the whole darn mess waving my arms and shouting "BRAVO! BRAVO!" For extra effect, I started clapping. The driver, clearly NOT amused at my sarcastic theatrics lowered her head and leaned against her steering wheel.

Finally I threw my arms open and up and screamed "WHAT THE F*&^?!?!?!?!?", turned on my heel, started walking back toward my Jeep and encountered the woman who had been driving the vehicle I hit. She was about as happy as I was and was blaming ME for the accident!

I started apologizing profusely, wrapped my arms around her and told her it really wasn't my fault. My hug disarmed her a little and I stepped back to point to the two damaged vehicles sitting behind my damaged Jeep. Her teenage son walked up just as she was explaining he was just recovering from a broken nose and didn't need to break it again. I started apologizing profusely AGAIN and wrapped my arms around HIM, disarming him, too.

I told her we needed to get our vehicles off the road, since they were drivable) and gestured to a party store about 100 feet from where we were standing and told her I was headed there and would call 911. After I called 911 I called Henry.

The car that initiated the chain reaction crash was in bad shape -- the front bumper and hood were crushed back to the windshield. I didn't have an opportunity to see how much damage was done to the rear of the minivan that hit me, but the front bumper and hood were pretty messed up.

Three of the four drivers (including me) were taken via ambulance to the same hospital emergency room. When Henry showed up I told him about my dancing in the middle of the street and he thought I was joking. When I told him I was serious it suddenly occurred to me that that my public display of displeasure was just plain wrong. On so many levels.


Thank you, God, for another day....

Chest Pains

Driving home from school on May 1st, I received a phone call from Henry -- and it was crystal clear from his breathless first words that something was definitely wrong and, even though Henry didn't say it, I knew that I was to blame.

I have never pretended to know what it's like to be married to a person with a mental illness and I have never entertained the thought that it could be even remotely easy. See, I know what it's like living inside MY head. I know first hand how enormously difficult it is for ME to keep myself on an even keel. I can only imagine what I look like from a different vantage point.

Since the mid to end of February, I have been tango-ing dreadfully with myself over my wildly drastic mood swings and how to keep them on a more level playing field -- and failing miserably. My manic moments are out of this world, but my BZ (BitchZilla) moments are six feet under, and the rapid cycling between the two has put a tremendous amount of stress on Henry because BZ always takes direct aim at him.

Which brings me back to the events leading up to May 1st. Henry, after 9 years of living with intrinsically complicated me and helping to raise my special needs son, finally reached his breaking point. My inability to control, or even tame, the extreme BZ moments over the last few months backed Henry into a corner and, literally, dropped him to his knees. Several of my careless actions in BZ mode pushed Henry to his limit -- causing him to drive himself to the emergency room.

Having tried unsuccessfully several times for Henry to park his Jeep and call 911, I continued talking with him phone as I made my way to the hospital to meet him.

Since that day, Henry and I have spent a great deal of time talking -- and listening -- and trying to figure out which parts of my carelessness have been totally BZ or only partially BZ and mostly Carrie.

The jury is still out...

Boxing Match

I have been beating myself up a lot recently -- for a myriad of things. For Henry winding up in the hospital with severe chest pains, shortness of breath and every other classic symptom of a heart attack. (All of the testing they put him through in 24 hours was inconclusive and he was referred out for a follow-up.)

Within a 13 day period I turned 41, Henry spent the night in the hospital, I was involved in a multi-car accident that has messed up my back, neck and hips (and Jeep) and -- ta-da! -- I broke my nose. Go ahead and laugh. I would be rolling on the floor laughing hysterically if it didn't hurt so damn much!

40 Came and Went

Turning 40, in 2007, threw me for a nauseating loop-de-loop. I remember thinking, at the time, "what the...?" and looking around me, in overwhelming disbelief, wondering how I survived to that point and asking myself "what DO I want to be when I grow up?"

Well, I turned 41 on Sunday and I'm still thinking "what the...?" Fortunately, however, I have decided what I want to be when I grow up!

I've written before how 2007 was the absolute year from hell for me. Well, 2008 is currently running neck-and-neck for that dubious distinction and if I do not focus on the things that really ARE important, it won't be long before 2008 is known as the "Most Absolute Year from Hell". Don't get me wrong, there have been some warm, sunny spots. For instance, recently, I met and had the chance to get to know some wonderful people and figuring out ways of getting past the biggest roadblock of all -- ourselves.

Who Am I?

God grant me the Serenity
to Accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
and Wisdom to know the difference.

I am sitting alone in a hotel room in Northern Michigan trying to sort out, in my mind, the events of the last 36 hours. Everything is so fucking upside down I don't know where to start.

Currently there is a quartet of opera singers in the pool outside my window singing the most beautiful music I think I have ever heard. Of course I can't understand what they are actually singing, but their sounds are something I've often imagined I would hear in heaven.

The guilt I feel about Henry winding up in the hospital feels insurmountable from my current vantage point. I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I am the person responsible for putting him there. If something were to happen to him, I would never forgive myself -- to the drastic point that I would take my own life.

Part of me is glad that Henry knows about the secret I've been carrying for the last six weeks. There is another part of me though, that hurts and aches and feels so horrendously raw -- like the most sensitive parts of my body have been heavily abraded by steel wool and, just for kicks, rubbing alcohol has been poured over the open wounds and some sick freak is chasing me with a lighter trying to burn me to the ground.

I'm already on the ground, bleeding love from every vein. Feeling like I don't belong in my own skin. Knowing with certainty that I have no idea who I really am. Which is why I am here this weekend. To find a purpose and my own inner power. Not the ego-type power, but the power that will enable me to turn myself around and find the right path to follow my dreams.

At this moment, I have a great deal of hope, a tiny bit of faith, and a whole lot of curiosity about whether or not this is even possible for me.

I desperately miss my friend.

Bleeding Love

Annie's Song, Too

On April 19th Henry and I took delivery of one of our "dream" boats -- a 33' Chris Craft Catalina. Because the previous two owners maintained her very well, she is a beauty!

Here, Cap'n Henry stands beside her in dry dock:



Here are pictures of her interior:


(Galley, Aft)














(Galley, Foreward)

Calculating Time

My oldest son, Matthew, came to live with Henry and me in early February and it started me thinking about the time that's passed...

• 13 years and 7 months since Matthew, Connor and I have lived under the same roof.
• 13 years and 7 months since I made a difficult decision to give my boys up because I wasn't sure I could take care of them and have a nervous breakdown at the same time.
• 13 years and 2 months since I tried to end my life with a bottle of prescription medication and failed and my first psychiatric hospitalization.
• 12 years and 8 months since Alexander Lee passed through my arms on his way to heaven.
• 11 years and 2 months since I held Hunter Nicholas for the very first time.
• Almost 9 years exactly since I walked across a parking lot and stepped into Henry and Jake's lives.
• 5 years and 11 months since my beautiful Grandmother died in my arms, as I whispered how very much I loved her.
• 5 years and 10 months since Henry and I said "I Do" to each other.

Student of the Week

For the first time ever, in his elementary school career, Hunter received the awesome honor of being "Student of the Week". I knew how hard Hunter had to work to receive such an incredible award and I was so overwhelmed with pride that he accomplished all of it, that I started to cry. I couldn't stop myself if I tried. For me, at that moment, Hunter being "Student of the Week" was a much bigger event than his first steps or first words.

On April 17th, Henry and I attended Hunter's Parent/Teacher conference and learned that the first two weeks of April Hunter was a very different boy; for the better. His teacher, Mrs. B., had so many wonderful things to share with us about how drastically Hunter's ultimate mood swings had leveled out and that he seldom had his name on the chalkboard for work owed.

(Note: On April 3rd, Hunter's medication was reduced to 15 mg Abilify every morning and Daytrana patch was the same at 15 mg. We have not been faithfully using the Daytrana patch and have found that his school days are usually better without it.)

Henry and I -- AGAIN -- expressed our concerns over how far Hunter is behind his peers in learning and test scores. Mrs. B. -- AGAIN -- told us she wasn't concerned because he was showing some improvement and that "some kids just test bad". Henry and I glanced at each other with the same thought: "some kids just test bad??"

Last Friday we discovered that Hunter has been viewing pornographic websites and I removed his computer from his room and changed his password. Hunter is intelligent enough to hook the computer up and try to login again.

Before I removed his computer from his room, and after I looked at his website history, I sat down to talk with him to see if I could figure out where the idea for looking at porn on the Internet came from, but Hunter told me he just typed search words in the address bar to find what he was looking for. His computer had the last three weeks of history available and it appears that is how long Hunter has been searching for this type of material.

Fast forward to the last three days. Hunter is still a changed boy, but in the total opposite direction. Yesterday's problems at school were the worst he has ever had. E.V.E.R.

From the voicemail I received from Hunter's teacher yesterday afternoon, Hunter's day was pretty bad from the get-go. Including picking up his desk (with seat attached) and throwing it at the glass chalkboard and -- you guessed it -- breaking it. Hunter had to be "Team Managed" twice because he was so violently aggressive and spewing inappropriate language to the world.

Will we have to hospitalize Hunter again?