Coming Into the Light

Perfect Day

2011-01-08T14:34:00.000-05:00

Today is a perfect day because not only is there sun shining on fresh snow, Hunter-Bear is sitting on the sofa next to me playing his XBox 360 while I blog. :-)

When Hunter met with Miss Pat from Community Mental Health the other day she asked him how long he thought he should remain hospitalized. His answer to her was, and I'm paraphrasing based on the voicemail he left me, "four to five months -- because (he) still has things he needs to work on."

That. blew. me. away.

Hunter has always been such an amazing kid. I'm not sure if he's amazing in spite of his Asperger's/bipolar issues or because of them. Either way, he is amazing and we have the most wonderful conversations. For instance, today, our conversations ranged from the definition of a mortgage vs. a lease, how Western Union works, buying a car vs. having a car payment and I showed him how to use an ATM. His curiosity is so broad and so deep and I thoroughly enjoy having the opportunity to explain these things to him.

Now if I could just find a way to bridge the enormous gap between Connor and me...and if Matthew lived closer...

Explanations

2011-01-06T21:57:00.000-05:00

Hunter left me a voicemail today telling me his day was going well, that Miss Pat (from Community Mental Health) met with him, and to ask me questions about his brother, Alexander.

For the last few months Hunter has been working on his version of his "Life Story" and it seems he is at a point where he would like to include information about his brother Alexander. I called him back as soon as I left work to answer his questions. His first question was in regards to Alexander's age and I explained to Hunter that as of last September 13th, he would have been 15 years old. His second question had to do with what happened to him and I tried my best to relate, in easily understood "Hunter-ease", that Alexander was born too early to survive outside my belly. Hunter was satisfied with my explanation.

My heart is flying with a broken wing...

Red Parka

2011-01-05T22:51:00.001-05:00

Well, the coveted Red Parka is slowly coming into view and very soon it will be within grasping distance. On January 30th to be exact.

The Red Parka I am affectionately referring to is the ultimate reward for two years of on-hill snowboarding training and one summer of OEC (Outdoor Emergency Care) training as a member of the National Ski Patrol.

I'm nervously excited and hope the toboggan portion goes smoothly.

First Overnight!

2010-11-25T20:44:00.001-05:00

Huge night last night! Hunter was able to leave the hospital for 24 hours and spend the night in his own bed. It is the first of what we hope will be many overnights on the road to eventual discharge.

Today, Thanksgiving, we spent the day with my girlfriend/co-worker, Ann, and her family had an awesome time!

Tomorrow, Henry flies in from New York to help me move and to take the rest of his stuff...

Catching Up

2010-11-04T18:45:00.000-04:00

Yep, it's me. Sorry it's been so long. I have no reasons yet I'm sure I could come up with several excuses. As you can imagine, a lot of things have happened since my last post:

Turning my life over to Jesus Christ again was the best thing I have ever done.
Hunter is still hospitalized -- yet making huge strides in his behavior modification. No talk yet on him coming home. It's been more than 9 months...
Henry and Jake moved to New York two weeks ago as planned.
Henry decided he wants to try to make our marriage work after all; just a few days before he left.
With Henry's assistance I located and secured an apartment and an "interim" vehicle.
My "new" car is a 1994 Ford Taurus that will at least get me from Point A to Point B. And maybe Point C -- if I'm lucky! (I totally miss my Jeep...)
I move into my new apartment on December 1st and am actually really, really excited about it!
I am still working two jobs and loving both.
Hospice is an amazing organization that I am now volunteering for.
Snowboarding (and Ski Patrolling) season is so close I can taste it!
Packing is something I should be doing right now instead of sitting in front of my laptop!

Although my emotions are running high and very, very deep, I am not in a place in my head where I feel I can turn them loose here. At least that's what I'm telling myself. Mostly I just feel numb.

No more for now.

2010-10-10T20:47:00.001-04:00

With his move date to New York fastly approaching, I have begun to push him away...doing whatever it takes to survive having my soul and heart murdered...

70

2010-09-12T21:26:00.001-04:00

years ago today my Dad was born. How awesome is that?!

8.5

2010-09-12T21:23:00.002-04:00

months of hospitalization for Hunter. The past four weeks have been truly amazing as Hunter continues to make huge improvements in so many different areas. I am proud beyond words!

15

2010-09-12T21:16:00.003-04:00

Years. 15 years tomorrow since Alexander passed through my arms. The pain ~ the comfortable ache ~ is still here inside my heart to remind me of that day.

The day that I delivered Alexander into this world and held him in my arms. The day I didn't hear him cry. The day his heart beat for five minutes while the priest read his last rites. The day God took him home.

That day will always be that day...

2010-08-18T03:05:00.001-04:00

Doesn't want to forget the feel of Henry's skin, nor the taste of his lips, nor the smell of his hair...time is running out...

2010-08-16T20:51:00.001-04:00

After several weeks of being on Level 0, Hunter has finally made it to Level 2 - which means he can have his Gameboy to play with! Congratulations Hunter-Bear!

2010-08-15T22:27:00.001-04:00

I saw Hunter today and he is doing well. His ability to recognize weaknesses in himself has increased dramatically these past few weeks. I am SO proud!

2010-08-14T10:36:00.001-04:00

It worked! Now I am able to post little blurbs from my BlackBerry in between my "brain dumps".

2010-08-14T10:32:00.001-04:00

Testing from my BlackBerry.

"Mean" by P!nk

2010-08-08T16:08:00.001-04:00

You use to hold the door for me
Now you can't wait to leave
You use to send me flowers if
You fucked up in my dreams
I use to make you laugh
With all the silly shit I did
Now you roll your eyes and
Walk away and shake your head

When the spark has gone and the candles are out
And the song is done and there's no more sound
Whispers turn to yelling and I'm thinking

[Chorus:]
How do we get so mean? How do we just move on?
How do you feel in the morning
When it comes and everything's undone?
Is it 'cause we wanna be free? Well that's not me.
Normally I'm so strong
I just can't wake up on the floor
Like a thousand times before
Knowing that forever won't be

I'm always sentimental when I think of how it was
When love was sweet and new and we just couldn't get enough
The shower, it reminds me you'd undress me with your eyes
And now you never touch me and you tell me that you're tired

You know it gets so sad when it all goes bad
And all you think about is all the fun you've had
And all those "sorry"'s ain't never gonna mean a thing

[Chorus]

I know we said some things that we can never take back
It's like a train wreck trying to hit the right track
We opened up the wine and we just let it breathe
But we should've drank it down while it was still sweet
It all goes bad eventually

Now do we stay together 'cause we're scared to be alone
We got so used to this abuse it kind of feels like home
But my baby I just really wanna know oh.

Calming Down

2010-08-08T15:32:00.002-04:00

The craziness that has been my life for so long seems to be finally calming down.

The debilitating female health issues that have been plaguing me for the past 9 months are almost completely taken care of, the grueling, time consuming, intense four months of National Ski Patrol (NSP), Outdoor Emergency Care (OEC) classes and final exams are over and, let's not forget, the future of my marriage was finally decided by the other half. Although I disagree with his decision from the bottom of my heart, I also know that there is nothing I can do to change his mind.

I've written several posts about Henry and how I have always believed he was the 'Love of My Life' and my 'Soul Mate', and I will forever stand by those. All of the billions of moments we declared "forever" to each other and that we were "in love for the last time in our lives" (the latter from the movie "Murphy's Romance"), I now have to live with the gut-wrenching reality that it's over.

My mind cannot even begin to wrap around the idea of Henry walking out of my life because that has never been my mindset. It has never even been a fleeting thought. I cannot remember there never being an "us". HenryAndCarrie. CarrieAndHenry. Never one without the other and we loved being that way.

My brain has always been my worst enemy because of it being Bipolar. Replaying all the wonderful memories that I have of Henry and me has made it absolutely unbearable. Taking it to the nth degree of excruciating is the fact that Henry holds so many memories of mine that I lost/never registered because of Electro-Convulsive Therapy.

When he leaves, he takes my memories with him...

Scattered Thoughts & Happenings

2010-07-30T13:38:00.008-04:00

The following are scattered thoughts and happenings from July 28th to the wee hours of July 31st.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

A few days ago I had an appointment at my local Social Security Administration office to apply for SSI benefits for Hunter. My first impressions were quite unfavorable because the amount of parking places developed for the stand-alone building did not even come close to meeting, much less exceeding, the number actually needed.

Ironically enough, after my Jeep and I created our own parking space next to a curb, the number of seats available for consumers also fell far below the number of people, in reality, that were occupying the tiny waiting room. In short, the Government expected way too much of the small spaces they were trying to cram people and vehicles into.

My appointment was for 1:30 p.m. and thankfully they ran pretty close to on-schedule.

My name was called, I was shown to a window with a chair and then introduced to two women. The first, a new employee, and the second her mentor. My first impressions immediately flipped upside down and found both women to be both very friendly and extremely helpful.

In the end Hunter was denied benefits for three reasons. The first, my understanding is, that the facility he is currently in is classified (not sure of the reason for needing a "classification") as an "institution". Secondly, the facility receives more than 50% of their money from Medicaid and lastly, Medicaid would take the sporadic child support money I receive for him (considered income for Hunter) and give him $37 per MONTH in return for personal incidentals (shampoo, toothpaste, etc.).

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

On that same day I had a follow-up appointment with my Endocrinologist. My parathyroid and calcium levels are still too high and he explained that by increasing my daily intake of Vitamin D to 3,000 mg three months ago, these levels should come down. Memo to you, Doc ~ they're NOT coming down. My thyroid level is acceptable which means the Hashimoto's disease is not progressing at a very fast pace but my calcium and parathyroid levels are still way to high and I feel like crap!

As usual, they drew five (5) tubes of blood to check my parathyroids, thyroid, calcium, and ionized calcium. I return to him in three months.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Again, on the same day, I received an unexpected blessing in the form of money (child support) from Hunter's dad. Because I was not added to the new bank account Henry opened, and I have not received a paycheck in four weeks and won't receive another one for approximately four more weeks, I have been relying on child support to pay for things for Hunter and incidentals (and gas to get back and forth to visit Hunter) for myself.

This blessing could not have come at a more perfect time. Honestly.

After making this wonderful discovery, I stopped at the office supply store and, quite sadly, purchased a do-it-yourself "Divorce Kit"...

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"Slap that horse in the ass; with my last dying gasp my brother could hear me say

Give me some water 'cause I shot a man on the Mexican border

Cool, cool water

Give me some water"

(Eddie Money)

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

There are "86,400 seconds in a day so we have to live like we're dying."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

When you leave, you take my memories with you...

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

In the wee morning hours of July 29th, Henry finally admitted out loud to me that he wanted a divorce.

Shredded, devastated, deflated, betrayed, overwhelmed, sad, paralyzed, afraid, bawl bag, losing my best friend and LOML, I won't make sense, exhausted, relieved that limbo is finally over. OMG...

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG ... these words resound loudly in my head. I cannot believe this is happening.

For the first time in a very long time, Henry and I talked. I mean really talked. He finally shared that for the past 2 1/2 years, since around January 2008 -- when I lost my job -- Henry has felt that this marriage "just wasn't worth it anymore". Sadly, I had only been feeling something was amiss for the past year or so.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

The mother of a very dear friend of mine (my high school sweetheart, to be exact - we've known each other almost 30 years and have stayed in touch off and on) had a brain tumor removed recently.

A few days ago the doctor's discovered a brain bleed. She has a heart condition (including a defibrillator) and takes Coumadin (a blood thinner).

My understanding is that due to these two things, and her overall health, they can do nothing for her. She has been in and out of consciousness since then.

Thursday night the family must have felt a little bit of hope when Roberta managed to see a little bit of j-ello, pudding, and mashed potatoes and gravy.

Last night I traded text messages with Tom and he mentioned his mother was now home (I'm assuming it's because there is nothing else the doctor's can do) and that she was next expected to last through the weekend.

My heart breaks for one of my oldest and dearest friends and I pray that God gives him and his family what they need to get through this devastating time.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

During "the" talk Henry and I had the other night I asked him if it was okay if I kept my married name. This question, coming on the heels of two requests I made of him that threw him into complete anger, he told me he had to think about it. A pain shot through my heart and I let the question drop. In all the marriages I've had, this particular last name is the one that feels like home. Later, Henry apologized for his reaction to that question and told me he felt flattered that I wanted to keep his last name and that it was okay if I did.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Late Thursday, July 30th.

Feeling little clarity today. Seems some of the fog has lifted from my brain and I can actually feel my pores breathing for a change. The pain is inexplicable and untouchable, and it feels like I'm drowning, yet I see a snorkel in the distance. Does that mean a tank is not far behind?

Positive What?

2010-07-26T23:10:00.005-04:00

I've been trying to keep a positive attitude these past few months and I'm here to tell you there have been days (oh boy have there been days!) I have been ready to chuck it (almost) all. Instead, I take a deep breath (or 37), read positive poetry and quotations, some from the Bible, and try to steady myself for the next wave of whatever is on its way.

Today, on Facebook, the following popped up on a friend's status. It's called "God Wants You to Know..." and it spoke volumes to me.

"God wants you to know that you got what it takes. God won't give you more than you can handle. Although there may have been times the world was caving in on you, you got through it. You are much strong than you think and with God's power, you are stronger than you can imagine. So charge ahead. You can handle it."

I have a lot on my plate right now. Mostly by accident - yet I am sometimes happy (?) for the distractions. I feel that if I stand too long in one place all the emotions I am carrying like Santa's sack of coal will take me out in one fell swoop. Trust me when I say that I have almost (almost!) cried as much these past few months as I did when I lost my son Alexander.

I cry a lot for Hunter. For the childhood he is missing out on. Then I shake myself and ask "what? a childhood like mine?" I wouldn't wish that on anybody. I cry a lot for Hunter and the birthday's/holiday's, etc., he's spent in psychiatric hospitals. I cry because my little boy is no longer little and I pray to God that I've always given Hunter my best - or at least apologized when I've made a mistake.

There is one part of my life that, when judgment day comes, I will pass with flying colors. And that has to do with Hunter. The rest? Meh...I'm not so sure.

I cry a lot for Connor and Matthew. Miracle of miracles I actually had all three of my boys together, at Hunter's hospital, just before my birthday in May. I don't hear from either one of them - of their own volition - yet they'll usually answer my text or Facebook messages.

I cry a lot for the demise of my marriage. I can't believe 11 years together has come to this. I can't tell you how many times I have cried myself to sleep, woke up crying or burst into tears because of a stupid song on the radio. My heart is in shreds for soooo many reasons...I am not sure if I will ever recover...

Coming Undone

2010-06-15T23:10:00.003-04:00

My life is so far out of balance it's all I can do to prevent myself from going completely under. I'm stretched thin with the commitments I've made -- yet that's not how it started out.

Back in December, when the Ski Patrol Director called me and asked me if I was still interested in becoming part of the ski patrol, I didn't hesitate to say yes. With the exception of my marriage being in complete turmoil and my job, I had nothing else going on. Then my health issue multiplied exponentially, Hunter had to be placed in a psychiatric hospital and my marriage continued to suck.

Then the snowboarding season ended and I had a few months of downtime from the ski patrol before starting the Outdoor Emergency Care portion in April.

Now, between attending classes two nights a week, self-study the rest of the week, visiting Hunter because he's still in the hospital, working at a job I love, watching my health continue to deteriorate, and trying to give CPR to my marriage, I am stick-a-fork-in-me-done.

Perfect example: last week were mid-terms. We had a written exam and four scenarios we had to pass in order for the instructors to know we are not complete idiots. (Apparently 90% of our class failed.) The scenarios included a deep laceration of a forearm, a man needing CPR/AED surrounded by live electrical wires, a broken wrist and a dislocated shoulder. In order to pass the scenarios, the instructors have a checklist of things that need to be done and said -- most of it in a specific order.

(The mid-term does not count toward our "grade", it was just a sanity check.)

I failed all of them, except one. I also failed the written portion of the exam. I feel like a big idiot. So many pieces of the scenarios we had to participate in are things I do everyday at my job.

----------> Bang Head Here <----------

I am thisclose to quitting this class and taking it again next year. Except if I do that, I have to wait another year for the coveted red parka.

Ugh!

My adrenalin and nervousness, if measured, would have been pretty close to the moon. No wonder I failed.

4 Months

2010-05-24T22:24:00.002-04:00

Closing in on it anyway. There is so much to write and so many emotions to share that I am overwhelmed just thinking about how to put them down on a web page.

Hunter is still inpatient at a psychiatric facility and it's been, as this post is titled, almost 4 months. It's been a long road full of frustration, tears and one very painful "Oh-My-God" when I learned Hunter tried to hang himself with a belt he borrowed from his roommate.

I can't even go in to the range of emotions I felt when I heard that, nor explain to you how it felt to see the obvious signs of his desperation on his neck.

I'm still unsure where my marriage stands.

My job is going very well. I still LOVE what I do and the people I care for. I wouldn't trade it/them for anything.

I am currently taking classes to be an OEC (Outdoor Emergency Care) Technician for one of the local Ski Patrols. We are almost at the half-way point, which means mid-terms are coming up VERY soon. I have already passed my "Professional Rescuer" course for CPR/Airway Adjunct/AED. It was grueling.

This is all I have for now.

Hello, Again

2010-03-12T19:51:00.003-05:00

Hunter has been in the hospital 40-something days now. In a way the days have flown by. Mostly though they have dragged slower than molasses. He continues to exhibit the violent, aggressive behavior that landed him there in the first place. There have been slight med changes over the past number of weeks, yet ~ and still ~ there is no magic potion to cast the demons from his brain.

I miss him so much I cannot breathe. He's my buddy, my shadow, my boy. I somehow fooled myself into believing that with him I had a chance to be a mother in ways I could not be with Matthew or Connor. It seems I have failed Hunter too. I feel as though I have lost all my boys.

I hate this fucking disease called bipolar! I cannot express just how much I do. I hate that because of it I had to even make the choice to let Matthew and Connor go. The demons I live with over that decision haunt me constantly and on such a deep level that at times I want to scream "do over!". Yet, the time has past. I lost all of it. Every single nanosecond. I missed so many firsts...I was excluded from their lives. Purposely or accidentally is anybody's guess.

I hate this fucking disease because now one of my children has to live with the same darkness clouding his mind that I do.

I am a horrible mother and a bad wife. I want to lie down in a hole and exhale my very last breath...

No Beds

2010-01-27T05:14:00.003-05:00

Hunter is sound asleep on a gurney, approximately three feet from where I sit. We've been in this room inside the emergency department of a large metropolitan hospital since around 6 p.m. last night. Almost twelve hours...tick...tock...

Henry and I brought Hunter here last night because it is something the court had ordered us to do; a psychiatric evaluation. I dragged my feet. I couldn't (still can't) bear having him in a psychiatric hospital again. I thought those days were behind us. Wrong.

It is so hard to believe this sleeping young man, who, snoring softly, and looking so peaceful, has so much venom inside him that he wants to kill people. If you ask him he'll tell you as much and add the names of the people on his list. He went so far as to one night pull a knife out of the kitchen drawer to kill his stepbrother with.

Dear God, please help this man-looking-child survive his lifetime.

Happy New Year?

2010-01-15T21:18:00.007-05:00

I wish that ~ more than anything ~ this year will be a happy year. So far it's not looking very good.

I have been loathing sitting down and adding a new entry to my blog. Until a few moments ago, literally, I couldn't put my finger on the reason why. It finally occurred to me that I am afraid of the tears.

I am not scared of the tears themselves, rather I am terrified of the emotions that are bottled up behind them. The emotions are raw, potent and deep and what bubbles to the surface now and again rock me to my core.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Hunter ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Today we went to court with Hunter regarding his assault and battery charges. In addition to a woman from Child Protective Services following us, Hunter now has a Probation Officer. In exchange for a guilty plea (which we planned all along because Hunter admits what he did), of the three cases pending, totaling six people assaulted, two of the cases (five people) were dismissed. The remaining case/charge is against his teacher.

How did CPS become involved you ask? Well, right before Christmas Hunter pulled a knife on his stepbrother with every intent on killing him. (Henry intervened.) I was asleep at the time of the incident and woke up the next morning to find a very large knife laying on a table near my side of the bed.

I was furious.

When I woke Hunter for school the next morning I bombarded him with questions and statements. "What were you thinking?!", "Do you have any idea what will happen to you if you kill somebody?!" On and on I went.

Up until that moment Hunter had never seen me so livid and I think at first it surprised him. I pushed (verbally) too far and Hunter became frustrated. When he becomes frustrated he gets angry, when he gets angry he becomes violent. When he walked away from me and descended the stairs to the first floor bathroom, I was right on his heels.

As I moved to grab his arm, a quick succession of punches were sent in my direction, landing in various places on my body. I fought back. That is until Hunter grabbed and tangled his one hand in my very long hair. Our bodies were so close together that the only body part of his exposed to me was an arm, so I bit him. HARD. By this time my stepson, Jake, had intervened and had Hunter pinned up against the bathroom mirror and Hunter let go of my hair.

When I retreated upstairs I heard Jake talking to Hunter and Hunter calmed down enough to finish preparing for school. Shortly after, and still shaking, I left for work and Hunter left for school.

Later that afternoon I received a call from the school nurse, someone who has known Hunter and our family since he was in kindergarten. She started off by saying she and the staff at his former elementary school and current junior high school were behind Henry and me 100%. She said everyone knows we are great parents and that we are totally involved with helping Hunter and that it hasn't been an easy road.

Then came the "but"...the teacher noticed the bite mark on his arm and they were required to report it to either CPS or the police and which one did I want them to turn to? I told her to call CPS because the police would defer us to them and it would just eliminate the monkey-in-the-middle.

So that's how CPS became involved in our lives. Although I don't *dislike* the CPS worker, she does have a tendency to annoy me greatly with her idiosyncrasies.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Relationships ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The stress of all things Hunter are more than enough for me. Unfortunately, on top of that, my relationship with my husband hasn't been what it used to be, although very recently, it has slightly improved.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Health ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

My health is still not the best and more issues have arisen that, in addition to their own set of symptoms, only exacerbate the tiredness and fatigue I already feel from the diseases we already knew about.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Activities ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

One thing I am fighting hard for is to stay active and not let the tiredness and fatigue cause me to sleep my life away.

I recently began training for the National Ski Patrol ~ even though I'm a snowboarder ~ at one of our local ski areas. Currently it's on-hill training, twice a week, (plus one duty shift a week) and it totally wears me out. Yet I LOVE the exhilarated feeling I get when I'm learning a new skill and I finally accomplish it, or I'm just free-styling wide-open down the hill.

Being outside ~ and in the cool air ~ is a bonus!

I am still viciously determined that 2010 be a much better year than 2009.

Only time will tell...

I'm Sorry

2009-12-01T06:43:00.002-05:00

Truly, I am.

One Last Chance by Daughtry

2009-12-01T06:41:00.002-05:00

Tell me what you need and I will find a way to stop the bleeding;
No, don't add to my mistakes.
Tell me you're not leaving and I'll tell you everything you need to know.
Don't throw it all away, don't say my words are just too late.

I don't want to be left behind, I've been so blind to all that I have broken.
Can we put this back together?
No more empty promises, they don't exist; just me out in the open.
I know this will take time, can you give me one last chance to make it right?

You say the story's ending but I think it's time we stop pretending;
No, can't let you turn the page.
Does your heart remember when we used to say forever, don't let go.
Don't throw it all away; don't say these words are just too late.

I don't want to be left behind, I've been so blind to all that I have broken.
Can we put this back together?
No more empty promises, they don't exist; just me out in the open.
I know this will take time, can we put the past behind us,
Tonight I'm gonna fight for you; just give me one last chance to make it right,
Last chance to make it right.

I don't want to be left behind, I've been so blind to all that I have broken.
Can we put this back together?
No more empty promises, they don't exist; just me out in the open.
I know this will take time, can you give me one last chance to make it right?

Give me one last chance to make it right,
A last chance to make it right
A last chance to make it right
No more empty promises, they don't exist; just me out in the open.
I know this will take time, can you give me one last chance to make it right?

~ Daughtry

Unwinding

2009-12-01T06:17:00.004-05:00

I have often wondered of the married couples that come into our clinic, what happens to the surviving spouse when one of them passes away? Most of them have been married for 60+ years. How do you unwind your life from that of your beloved and move on? CAN you move on?

I'm not necessarily referring to material things ~ furniture, art work, the big screen television ~ because in some cases those will have to be dealt with if the surviving spouse is moving into an adult care facility or a smaller residence.

Last night I made a quick (3 1/2) round trip to my nieces house and during the ride I started thinking about this. Intently. Then I tried to overlay those thoughts on my marriage to Henry and asking myself what would happen if we were to divorce? What would happen to the "us" that has always been?

How would I unravel, unwind, disentangle myself from him and the life that took almost 11 years to build and just moments to tear to shreds?

I don't know who I am without him. And I should.

On this day...

2009-11-17T17:16:00.004-05:00

... God wants you to know that it is time to finally forgive yourself.

You've carried the guilt, the shame for long enough.

You've kept your wounds open for long enough.

The time has to come to let go, to heal.

Keep the lessons and let the pain heal.

Yes, you know what we are talking about it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I won't heal alone...

I'm Moving On by Rascal Flats

2009-11-12T18:39:00.005-05:00

Life

2009-11-11T18:41:00.003-05:00

Henry does most of the talking. He is so frustratingly articulate and freakishly analytical that I am completely defenseless and find myself frequently in the position of just listening. It's totally unproductive, but I don't know what else to do.

To give you an idea of what I'm up against, his favorite subject is (and always has been) physics. He qualified for MENSA and turned them down. He's also an Electrical Engineer. Matching wits with him is like bringing a straw/spitballs to an AK47 fight! LOL!

I am grateful to Henry for having always been not only constantly employed, but also for having a substantial salary. He has pretty much always sucked at chores, but he takes care of other things that more than make up for it. He sometimes works long hours, he frequently travels to work on jobs ~ sometimes for very long stretches, sometimes very far away and putting himself in danger.

A few years ago he flew for work to Germany, spending a little time in France and Italy, too. The travel status changed to high-risk, the American Consulates were saying "leave foreign countries NOW". His mom and I were begging him to get the next flight out before he was stuck there. Although he refused to fly home right away he didn't get "stuck". His mom and I could have choked him for putting us through that! LOL!

I've never doubted Henry's honesty or integrity.

Henry and I have been together for almost 11 years. Married 7 years last June. In all the years we've been together I have been, or at least it seems like, a constant patient in the health care system. Life with me has not been easy because of it. Our life with Hunter has not been easy either. Especially when we were trying to have him diagnosed. Especially the period of time I was in and out of psychiatric hospitals. Especially when Hunter and I were in different psychiatric hospitals on the opposite sides of town. Especially when I went through Electro-Convulsive Therapy and lost six months of my "life" (memories ~ present at the time and a lot of past).

Henry, it seems to me, is always "rescuing" me from something. I feel like a perpetual damsel in distress. Part of my problem with him, for a while now, is that he doesn't see me as a woman; as his lover, confidante and wife. I feel as though he is always waiting for the next catastrophe to happen so he can swoop in and rescue me again.

Intimacy used to be overflowing in our marriage. Not just sexual, but emotional, too. There was a time when I honestly and truly believed there was no way to tell where he ended and I began. I used to tell him that without him, I didn't make sense.

Our intimacy is gone. We barely speak to each other. If we touch, it's purely by accident.

I can't continue to live life like this.

Bring Me to Life by Evanescence

2009-11-06T18:45:00.002-05:00

How can you see into my eyes like open doors
Leading you down into my core
Where I’ve become so numb without a soul
My spirit sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home
(Wake me up)

Wake me up inside

(I can’t wake up)

Wake me up inside

(Save me)

Call my name and save me from the dark

(Wake me up)

Bid my blood to run

(I can’t wake up)

Before I come undone

(Save me)

Save me from the nothing I’ve become

Now that I know what I’m without
You can't just leave me
Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life

(Wake me up)

Wake me up inside

(I can’t wake up)

Wake me up inside

(Save me)

Call my name and save me from the dark

(Wake me up)

Bid my blood to run

(I can’t wake up)

Before I come undone

(Save me)

Save me from the nothing I’ve become

Bring me to life

(I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside)

Bring me to life

Frozen inside without your touch without your love darling
Only you are the life among the dead
All this time I can't believe I couldn't see
Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me
I’ve been sleeping a thousand years it seems
Got to open my eyes to everything
Without a thought without a voice without a soul
Don't let me die here
There must be something more
Bring me to life

(Wake me up)

Wake me up inside

(I can’t wake up)

Wake me up inside

(Save me)

Call my name and save me from the dark

(Wake me up)

Bid my blood to run

(I can’t wake up)

Before I come undone

(Save me)

Save me from the nothing I’ve become

(Bring me to life)

I’ve been living a lie, there’s nothing inside

(Bring me to life)

Connor

2009-10-30T08:25:00.001-04:00

You may never know how much your years of silence have taken a toll on me.

You may never hear how much it hurts that you do not communicate with me.

You may never hear or know these things because we may never see or talk to each other again.

I have reached out over and over and over to you.

It's YOUR turn.

I love you,

Mom

Hunter Bear

2009-10-30T08:21:00.000-04:00

Today is a mandatory parent/teacher meeting with/for Hunter. I am so frustrated at his behavior as of late that I don't know which way to turn. It also makes me terribly, undeniably sad.

Hunter really is a terrific kid. Really! If his peers and teachers only saw a small part of what I see, they would know just how awesome he really is. I sound like a parent, yet it's true, he is amazing.

In all the years of fighting for Hunter I often wondered where we would be when he became a teenager. Technically he's not yet a teenager ~ he is only 12 ~ yet his physical attributes tell a different story. For starters, his height. He's taller than I am (5' 9") now. Which is terrifying to me because he has the physical strength of a full grown man.

I find myself walking on eggshells when Hunter and I are alone together and he becomes frustrated. I do what I can, without giving in to his demands, if there are any, to not escalate his frustration into a full contact sport.

Last night Hunter asked me when his brother Matthew started shaving. Matthew is 20 years old now and, as far as I know, he hasn't started shaving yet! Then Hunter asked me when his brother Connor, almost 16, started shaving (he had a mustache at 10) and I guessed and told him he's probably been shaving for a while now.

Hunter is smart. He has an amazing memory. He has well-developed fine motor skills and recently assembled his very first model car. He loves computer games, his X-Box and his DS. He's also crazy about Lego's and Bionicles.

Sniffing the air around me, Hunter frequently notices my perfume. He tells me when I look pretty, too. He has also become much better at recognizing facial expressions and what they mean. Something he struggled with (still does to some extent) for years. If you asked Hunter which expression he sees on me the most and he would probably say frustrated!

I pray to God that we are somehow able to find the magic potion that will tame his ferocious temper when he becomes frustrated. Sadly, society will not accept a child like Hunter, believing that his anger is manifested deliberately by him instead of it manifesting and taking hold of him. That statement probably makes very little sense to someone that hasn't raised an Asperger's kid.

Hunter has been "Hunter-Bear", or some variation of it, since he was a newbie. Initially I called him "Pooh-Bear" or "Pooh". Over the years it's taken on a life of its own so I usually call him just "Bear".

I'm the only person in the world that calls him "Bear". MY "Hunter-Bear". For always.

Thank you, God, for another day.

Closure

2009-10-29T20:24:00.002-04:00

What is it? Seriously. What is it really? When someone asks for closure, what is it they are really asking for?

I have been seeking some sort of closure on several things in my past ~ mostly related relationships, but then aren't we all?

Does closure mean some sort of reconciliation ~ not of the relationship itself ~ for our minds to wrap around in order for us to walk away without looking back? Ever.

Is pursuing closure another way to have the last word?

For me, personally, it's about unanswered questions about the relationship itself. For instance, what were the mistakes I made in that particular relationship and were they what caused the relationship to end? Or did the relationship ending have anything to do with me at all?

I never set out to deliberately make the same mistake more than once, yet there are times where I deliberately do nothing to stop it. I'm not trying to be malicious, yet I know that is exactly what it looks like, it usually just seems like the thing to do at the time.

Right now I am stuck in a cycle of wanting something that I not only can't have, but shouldn't want to have in the first place. This dilemma has caused much distress in my marriage and has brought it to the brink of ending it completely.

Closure

Ah, that word again ~ closure. Something I completely suck at because I have no idea what closure means to me, specifically. It'll just be another relationship that I can say I never had "closure" on and ache forever because of it.

Many years ago, when I was a junior in high school, I met a cop from the community from which I worked. We were just friends for a very long time before we became something much more. It was something that happened naturally and it was something that I truly wanted at that time. Something I was given in that relationship was brutally taken away and, to this very day, it haunts the hell out of me. I need closure.

What I have always wanted to know from him was why he never called after I was put in that position and why he didn't stay for the fallout. Those aren't the only questions I have for him. Having my many questions answered, in this case, means closure for me. It's difficult to say whether or not it would be complete closure, I would just like the opportunity to find out.

There is one other person I had a relationship with that, if given the opportunity, I would like to ask questions of and maybe find...yep...closure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of my biggest detriments is that I feel emotions at such a deep, deep level, yet I am not able to compartmentalize them. I feel that if I could compartmentalize them, especially past relationships, not just men but relationships with a few of my family members, too, then I would be able to close those chapters for good.

Instead, I walk around with all these emotions (some that go back many, many, MANY years) piled one on top of the other and, combined, they emit a buzzing sound inside my head. I'm very certain this is the one of the major reasons I have so much trouble sleeping ~ or at least turning off my brain on command. I really don't want to be a walking bundle of emotions. It saps so much of my energy. On the other hand, were it not for my emotional experiences, I would not be able to do what I do now for a living.

For example, today I had a patient with congestive heart failure, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, and several other ailments that, combined, make it nearly impossible for her to breathe properly.

This patient, Bella, has been in to see us every week for the past several weeks with one goal in mind: to be able to take a deep, cleansing breath. While doing her intake today, before the doctor came to examine her, she made a statement ~ “I’m at the end of my rope…” ~ and that resonated with me. I was able to draw from my own (recent and ongoing!) personal health issues and understand exactly what she meant.

I didn’t do what many people do and say “I know how you feel; I’ve been there”. I knew actions would speak louder than words so I just wrapped my arms around her and held her while she cried on my scrubs.

My vast emotional experiences allow me to empathize on a much deeper level with my patients. Unfortunately (or is that fortunately?) my emotional experiences with my patients adds to my emotional experiences heap and the buzzing in my head continues.

Sheesh…

If only I could insert a memory card and do an emotional dump…

Hunter, Hunter, Hunter

2009-10-29T12:43:00.002-04:00

I thought Monday would be a great day for Hunter. He just came off a two day suspension and I assumed that would stay fresh in his mind as he stepped off the school bus and onto school property.

Instead, I was called to pick him up for the same reasons as before. Except this time he received a three day suspension.

I don't know how much of this I can take.

(Posted from my Blackberry)

Hunter's Assault

2009-10-21T20:15:00.002-04:00

Today was another rough day for Hunter. In addition to running away from the school, he assaulted his teacher before he left.

The police were called, per policy, and when they found him he was sitting on a curb just a few blocks from school. The teacher filed a police report ~ and rightfully so.

Hunter received a two day suspension that starts tomorrow.

God, please help me help this child...

Health Issues ~ Old and New

2009-10-20T16:55:00.001-04:00

I had hoped that my health issues of the past would not move forward into the present ~ yet they have.

In addition to the hypercalcemia and hyperparathyroidism making their comebacks, and the need for a second surgery in the wings, I am also having "female" issues that in order to resolve, will require surgery and a complete hysterectomy.

I have prided myself thus far by keeping my blogging clean. However, in this situation only one word could possibly describe the recent events regarding my health.

F.U.C.K.!

Godspeed, Bernard

2009-10-15T01:41:00.001-04:00

One thing I hate about my job is the fact that I would be dealing with death on a regular basis.

The problem is that I get overly attached to some of my patients, like Bernard.

He was 92 years old, married for 67 years to his beautiful wife, a WWII Veteran, and worked for one of the Big Three automakers for 43 years. He recently passed away.

When I first met him, almost a year ago, I immediately took a shine to him and him to me. Due to throat cancer he no longer had a voice but that didn't matter because we had our own form of communication. My favorite form of his "communication" was hearing him laugh hysterically at my funny stories.

I kept a constant watch on the schedule so when he was in for an appointment I could be the one to care for him. He became my "buddy". On the rare occasions where I was not available to handle his care I would seek him out and poke my head into his exam room. He never failed me. Not once. His whole body lit up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree every time he saw my face. He'd laugh and slap his knee and we would exchange a huge hug. What a very dear man he was.

The week before he passed away he had been in the hospital and I visited him several times. His son and Bernard's wife, who always brought Bernard in for his appointments, would be there and we would sit and talk while Bernard slept.

Bernard definitely had a full life and I will miss him dearly.

Godspeed, Bernard.

Random Thoughts

2009-10-15T01:26:00.002-04:00

It seems I always think of things to write about when I am not anywhere near my laptop to actually write it down.

For instance today, at work, I was drawing up a flu vaccine when I started thinking about where I've been and where I am now. Kind of abstract, for the most part. As today progressed I zeroed in on more specific things.

Allow me to finish the following sentence:

"I never thought that..."

...that I would go back to school and I would finally be living a dream of working in health care.
...depression would wrap its chains around me so tightly and drag me so far into the darkness that I would survive more than one suicide attempt.
...that I would ever, in a zillion years, bury one of my children.
...I would have 11 Electro Convulsive Therapies. Nor did it occur to me the vastness of my memory loss because of them.
...my marriage would ever feel less than completely secure and that the turmoil currently surrounding it could be the end of it.
...I would be creating my own chaos. Again.
...my health, not my mental health, my physical health, would become so problematic and wrought with drama.
...Connor would still be so far away.
...my niece, Dayna, and I would become so close that I consider her one of my best friends, and like the daughter I never had, and have a daughter of her own that I feel like a grandmother to.

I look at where I've been and I look at where I am now and it boggles my mind that I'm still standing. I have these moments ~ a lot lately, it seems ~ where I feel like an outsider peering into my own life and the only reaction I can muster is to shake my head in disbelief. It's *that* mind-boggling.

Right now it's close to 1:30 a.m. and although I am tired as tired can be, I don't want to go to sleep. I have this overwhelming feeling that if I take time to sleep I might miss something important. Yeah, it sounds silly, but it's how I've been feeling for a very long time now. (The saying "you can sleep when you're dead" just popped into my head.)

My thoughts surf all over the place. All the time. As much as I try to, I cannot shut my brain off and I wake up feeling like I fought an army all by myself.

On the other hand, there are many nights that I want to go to sleep and absolutely never wake up. Thoughts of suicide are always rambling around in my brain, even though I don't speak about them. It's that "sleeping when you're dead" thing. I am 100% certain that a dirt nap will stop the whirling-twirling-spinning thoughts in my head once and for all.

Once and for all.

Theme from Saving Grace (Television)

2009-10-14T23:43:00.009-04:00

One time around the block
Two times around the clock
Three times, don't cross the little lady (lady)

So pretty and, oh, so bold
Got a heart full of gold on a lonely road
She said, "I don't even think that God can save me" (save me)

(Am I) gainin' ground
(Am I) losin' face
(Have I) lost and found my saving grace
Thankful for the gift my angels gave me

Born alone, we die alone
'n' I'm just sittin' here by the phone
Waitin' for the Lord to send my callin'

Street wise from the boulevard
Jesus only knows that she tries too hard
She's only tryin' to keep the sky from fallin'

Any man who says it's Heaven and Hell
Prob'ly got somethin' useless to sell
You ask me if I'm saved, but what's it to ya?

Blow a quarter, cop another eight
You're runnin' out of high, you're losin' your faith
Throw your hands up and scream, "Hallelujah"

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Amen

One time around the sun
Another year older and my work ain't done
It's time for me to write the final chapter (chapter)

Deal the cards and roll the dice
Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll are my only vice
Tryin' to figure out just what's here after (here after)

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Amen

(Everlast)

Say Anything by Edwin McCain

2009-10-04T03:12:00.005-04:00

Say anything, save everything
If we say nothing, this love will die
Give me just one word, you can scream or whisper
If you want to stay with me, tell me why
Say anything

It's not that the words aren't there,
but they'd only fail my emotions
Just want to feel this way,
without chaining you down to some old cliche
You want water in my hands,
and we stand waist deep in the ocean
It's bigger than the sea, it won't let me

Say just anything, because I feel everything
I'd rather say nothing, than the same old lines
I think I give you more, something there's no words for
You don't have to hear me to feel me trying
To say anything

Baby I know you try,
but sometimes I still want to hear it
Even when the waters calm,
but lately it's just when there's something wrong
Why can't we splash around,
and hold on to that playful spirit
Oh like we used to do and won't you

Say anything, save everything
If we say nothing this love will die
Give me just one word, you can scream or whisper
If you want to stay with me tell me why
Say anything

This love is true
Even if you
Call it by a different name
And it's still the same, so we'll

Say anything, feel everything
I want to be with you so this love can fly
We'll hang on every word and we'll scream, we'll whisper
This moment is waiting for you and I
Say anything
Say anything..

(Edwin McCain, featuring Maia Sharp)

Why Bother?

2009-10-03T00:31:00.001-04:00

When I started this blog two-and-a-half years ago it was meant to be an outlet for my emotions, anxiety and whatnot. Lately it's been much, much less than that. I have found I measure my words because my husband reads this.

Either he stops reading it or I stop blogging.

Why not?

Celebrations!

2009-09-12T15:59:00.002-04:00

Last Wednesday, Hunter started Junior High School and 7th grade. So far his year is starting off very well and I have received only two phone calls from the school.

The first call was from the school social worker letting me know that Hunter had been chosen to take a special MEAP test this fall. The second was to tell me that Hunter and another child ran into each other in gym and Hunter scraped his shin and needed ice.

WHEW!

Today is my dad's 69th birthday. Happy Birthday, Dad! (Even though you have no idea this blog exists!)

Be Still by Story Side B

2009-09-06T22:07:00.007-04:00

I remember all the times
the good times and the bad
(some good and some are bad)
I'm still holding on to you
some days I wanna run
and times I come undone
but I still belong to you
thats how I know that

When I feel like caving in
my heart my soul is wearing thin
I just want to give up
nothing seems at all to add up
can you hear me Lord?
my face is down upon the floor
its then you whisper in my ear
be still and know I'm here

I see a side of you my friend
the same struggles that I have
my heart goes out to you
I know its hard to feel alone
and this world's so unforgiving
I've been feeling that way too
but I can tell you

Is that you?
Is this me
It's sometimes hard to believe that
I am not alone
its not just you
and not just me

we all need to believe that
we are not alone.

~ Story Side B ~

Community Service

2009-09-06T21:28:00.015-04:00

Last spring, right before school let out for summer vacation, Hunter had an incident at school where he broke a glass (yes, GLASS) chalkboard. Subsequently the police were notified, a police report was written up and Hunter was ordered to appear before the Juvenile Court's referee. Henry and I fully supported the chain of events and together, the three of us, appeared before the referee.

It was quite obvious that the referee we met with had been dealing with juveniles for a very long time and Henry and I left the meeting quite impressed with the way the referee spoke to Hunter and even more impressed with the way Hunter comported himself in front of the him.

Because Hunter was a "first time offender" and, Henry and I believed, the referee was also impressed with Hunter, he referred us to a mediator to resolve restitution.

Recently, Hunter and I met with two mediators as well as the principal of his former school. The five of us sat down and talked about what lead up to Hunter shattering the chalkboard in a fit of anger, then we discussed what Hunter could do to make reparations.

We came out of the meeting with Hunter having to write a letter to his new teachers to let them know how his body feels when he starts to lose control, what they can do to help, as well as what not to do (causing him to escalate out of control). Additionally, Hunter must perform 15-20 hours of community service.

For the past two days, as well as tomorrow, Hunter and I have been volunteers at an arts and crafts booth at a very large, and annual, festival in a neighboring town. By the end of the weekend he will have satisfied 15 hours of his mandatory community service and his file will be sealed.

Although an "arts and crafts" booth (actually a long table under a tent) sounds like an easy way out, there really is much more work to this particular one than even I imagined. And I'm a crafts-person! (In looking for a volunteer activity for Hunter it made sense for me to select something that interested me, too.)

Our booth is located inside "Kids Village" ~ directly in front of the main entrance to that fenced-in area. Being that the craft project is free, we have served a LOT of kids the past two days and I am certain tomorrow will be just as busy, if not busier being that it will be the last day of the festival.

The company hosting the booth gathers recyclable materials from area businesses and travels to schools, scout groups, birthday parties ~ wherever kids are ~ to provide bits and pieces of things to turn into works of art.

The art project we are helping the kids create is called a "Windjammer".

Using remnants of gaskets for automobiles (black foam circles with one sticky side), Popsicle sticks (as a handle), multicolored ribbons of paper (to dance in the wind), shiny black ribbons of video cassette tape (from a television station), and a box full of odds and ends (ticket stubs, beads, buttons, wooden letters, etc.) to decorate it with.

When the child has finished decorating the "face" of the windjammer we pour "Pixie Dust" (green, glittered sand) over it to remove the remaining stickiness so it doesn't get stuck in hair or on clothes. The kids LOVE it!

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Every now and again Hunter will say something to me that totally knocks my socks off. Yesterday, as soon as we figured out which area of the festival we would be in and he discovered several carnival rides, he asked me a few times if he could ride the rides. Of course I refused him because he was there satisfy his community service requirement, not play.

By the end of the day both of us were tired from being in the sun and heat, and overstimulated by the busy-ness of the booth and five different music booths competing for attention by attempting to be the loudest, so all I wanted to do was hop on the shuttle bus, get our vehicle and go home.

As we left "Kids Village" Hunter turned to me and remarked, "I don't deserve to ride the rides today because I didn't help you as much as I should have."

I. Was. Floored.

Granted we forgot Hunter's medication before we left the house and I had to have Henry drive it up to us, but Hunter had a terrific day anyway. To hear him say he didn't "deserve" something really blew me away.

After I picked my jaw up off my shoes I replied "You're right, Hunter and I am pleased to hear you recognize that in yourself.

Today, while dealing with a VERY crazy-busy crowd of kids, Hunter said this: "I have to say, Mom, you are really great with kids!"

That's MY boy!

Number 20

2009-09-06T02:16:00.002-04:00

My eldest son, Matthew James, turns 20 years-old today. WOW.

Around this time, twenty years ago today, I was just getting off work at the distribution center and driving to my mom's house.

At this time in the morning, twenty years ago, I was having consistent contractions and unable to sleep.

A few hours from now, twenty years ago, I woke my mom to let her know today would be the day I would be bringing her very first grandson into this world.

What did we do first, you ask? Each of us showered, then we painted our fingernails and our toenails and as soon as the mall opened we walked the halls; stopping regularly to breathe through the contractions that were slowly increasing in intensity.

When I wasn't able to walk very far before the next contraction forced the wind out of me we decided to go to the hospital to find out how far I had progressed. They kept me.

Twenty years ago today, around 3:15'ish in the afternoon, I brought ten-pound and 23 inch long Matthew James into this world.

The first of my four sons.

Best thing I ever did. EVAR.

Bittersweet September

2009-09-05T23:32:00.002-04:00

September is upon me once again. One of these days I believe this month will swallow me whole.

I have an enormous love/hate relationship with this month because in the midst of celebrating a few important birthday's (Henry, Matthew, my dad, and grandmother), I mourn the birth and death of Alexander Lee on September 13, 1995.

It's been 14 years since I held my teeny-tiny son in my arms. Wishing for him to cry, praying for the miracle of all miracles ~ his life. Knowing the harsh reality that he was too tiny for anything to be done. I still have difficulty reconciling the truth with the hopes I once had for him.

As much as I believe that things do, indeed, happen for a reason and as much as I believe in a higher power and His will, I am constantly tripping over the powerful grief that, 14 years later, still overwhelms me.

Time truly does not heal all pain. There are some sorrows that sting like hell no matter how much time passes.

Memories of that day and night are still crystal clear in my mind. Time has not put a fade on them either.

The anguish I feel over not having been enough, physically, for him to continue to grow in my belly shreds me to pieces. Although I knew the probability of carrying him to term was low, due to an incompetent cervix, terminating the pregnancy was never an option. In all honesty, the thought did stroke my brain for all of 2 seconds, I just couldn't do it.

Hindsight? Yeah, it's almost always 20/20. In this instance, and as much as intense agony as his premature birth and subsequent death caused, I wouldn't trade holding him and his beating heart for anything.

So, happy birthday, Alexander Lee, my angel baby. I held you in my arms briefly, once-upon-a-time, yet you will live in my heart and soul forever.

How to Save a Life

2009-09-05T18:50:00.005-04:00

On Wednesday, September 2nd, I put to use a skill I learned through lecture, book work and a few (pretend) practice moves.

The Heimlich Maneuver.

As a rule, when lunchtime rolls around at the office, I prefer to leave the building and eat lunch elsewhere. I am a firm believer in the change of scenery doing a body good and I even take it to a higher degree by walking around one of the two large chain department stores nearby.

On Wednesday, however, I changed my routine. Although I left the building with the intention of having lunch outside of it, I wound up buying my lunch and returning to the office to eat it in our break room.

Initially I was eating lunch with three co-workers; two front desk staff and another Medical Assistant but we were soon joined by one of seven physicians in our practice. She, too, had purchased her lunch and brought it back to the break room to eat it.

As we talked about this and that ~ complete with laughing and giggling ~ the physician, who was sitting next to me, made what the rest of us thought was a laughing-with-soda-coming-out-of-her-nose kind of sound.

Grasping at her neck, we very quickly learned she was in serious trouble with something lodged in her throat.

As Dr. H scrambled toward the wastebasket and started wildly grabbing for the door to open it, I jumped up from my seat, wrapped my arms around her middle and gave her two quick thrusts dislodging the object (a piece of chicken) from her throat and onto the floor. (Later the Office Manager would describe it as a "text book" Heimlich.)

After the crisis was over the five of us returned to the table in an effort to resume eating our respective lunches. Sitting next to each other again, Dr. H quietly picked at her food as we glanced at each other several times. Neither one of us could believe what just occurred but we tried to make small talk anyway. Rubbing my arm, and in between quiet coughs, she thanked me for my help.

I was still overwhelmingly stunned, and the massive adrenaline rush was still flying through my body at warp speed, and I sat there with my body visibly shaking. I shook the rest of the day.

Soon, lunch ended and we were back to the craziness of another busy day. Every time Dr. H and I were near each other that afternoon, a look passed between us that spoke volumes without a word being said.

Once, she hugged me tightly and thanked me again saying she would like to take me out to lunch. I told her that that wasn't necessary and that although I preferred she didn't do that (choke) again, I had her back if she did.

Another life saved.

China

2009-08-19T20:24:00.001-04:00

Ever dig yourself so deeply into a hole that you are certain, beyond the shadow of every doubt, that you cannot possibly dig yourself out?

Welcome to my world.

We Always Love

2009-08-08T02:30:00.004-04:00

We quietly disagree, sometimes even agree to disagree.

We get on each other's nerves.

We always love.

Occasionally we may even wonder why.

At times we talk, yet not communicate, other times it's vice versa.

We fight for love.

He doesn't yell. Neither do I.

Yet I've slammed bedroom doors, house doors, car doors.

I've sought refuge and space on our boat.

We pray for love.

I've cried. And cried.

I frustrate him and he frustrates me.

And not cried because I was physically unable to.

We hope for love.

We've lived.

And learned.

We've hurt ourselves and each other.

At times we dislike the other.

Yet we always love.

There was no delineation where one ends and the other begins.

Now we tiptoe over the crack.

And it continues to grow.

Now my back is firmly planted against the wall...

Back to Work!

2009-07-15T23:01:00.002-04:00

Well, after 5+ months off for health issues, I am finally back to work and it feels terrific!

I didn't realize all of the benefits of Cymbalta until last week when I kept forgetting to have my prescriptions refilled and ran out. I thought the pain that engulfed my body was from being back to work and using muscles I forgot I had. Within 24 hours of resuming my normal dosing of Cymbalta all but the pain in my feet had subsided.

It is that time of year again when I talk with a representative from Columbia University as part of the VNS study I am a participant of.

I dread these updates, not the person who conducts it because she's awesome, but the questions that have to be asked.

What makes this update more difficult is the fact that I had been off work for several months due to my health and I feel the depression that surrounded that will exacerbate how I really feel.

I guess we'll see.

Baby Bear

2009-07-01T02:39:00.003-04:00

I finally have to admit it out loud ~ Hunter is no longer my "Baby Bear", a nickname he's had since he was a little boy. Each standing approximately 5' 9" tall, Hunter and I are now the same height and it seems strange. Very strange.

Today was Hunter's second appointment with a new therapist and it went very well. I was brought in toward the end of the session so the therapist could observe how Hunter and I interact. I wasn't surprised at what she found, yet I was surprised that she found it so fast.

Hunter and I are a lot alike, sometimes more than I would like to admit, and we quite often feed off each other's emotions. This can be a good thing, for instance, when he is happy or delightfully manic, yet it can also be a detriment when I begin talking about something that makes him uncomfortable, or that he doesn't wish to discuss, and we both begin feeling anxious.

The therapist asked me to explain to Hunter how I felt when he was in the midst of one of his rages. This was easy for me to do, yet I am not certain if he understood what I was trying to say. I was raised in a house where there was severe violence against my brothers and when Hunter starts punching holes in walls I feel that overwhelming fear suck the breath right out of my body. It's as though I was snatched back into the 1970's and early 1980's and witnessing it all over again. I never, ever, EVER thought I would be afraid that one of my kids could ~ or would ~ physically hurt me and the thought scares the hell out of me.

I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse that Hunter currently destroys our property instead of people.

As hard as I tried I couldn't seem to articulate to Hunter how important he is to me. I couldn't seem to make it something tangible for him ~ even though there is nothing tangible about emotions. Instead, I explained to him about the thirteen days we spent in the hospital together when I was six months pregnant with him and how I have been fighting ever since to keep him safe, healthy and happy.

I began to cry.

I couldn't help it. Hunter-Bear fills up so much of my heart because we, and so many other people, have fought so long and hard to keep him on an even keel that it breaks my heart to see him struggle so desperately to keep his anger under control. It's like this demon that has such death grip on him and we just can't seem to rip it away from him.

Are we moving forward? Or standing still?

Parathyroidectomy Completed!

2009-06-28T17:32:00.003-04:00

This surgery was originally scheduled for June 16th but due to an infection inside my left foot, from having hardware removed, it was postponed for one week.

In order for the surgeon to better see the wonky parathyroid gland, I had to arrive at the hospital much earlier than a typical same-day patient to have radioactive material injected into my veins. It seems parathyroid glands are pretty picky about what they snuggle up to, and due to their deep and loving relationship with radioactive materials, it causes the glands to sparkle and shine.

The hospital where the surgery took place was pretty cool. (I feel I am expert in judging hospitals since this would be my third surgery in 3 months.) Their same-day surgery area was its own wing, with two beds per room -- and a door, not a curtain, that closed!

The surgery itself took almost three hours and after two hours in the recovery room I was returned to the same-day surgery unit to order room-service, watch television and sleep. Which, after I ate, is all I did for the next 18 hours.

All is well.

'Twas the Night...

2009-06-03T20:52:00.004-04:00

...before surgery and all through the house...

Actually, tomorrows' surgery will be a piece of cake compared to the surgery I have coming up on June 16th.

Tomorrow, the Foot Wizard will be removing the hardware he inserted almost (exactly) three months ago to help the broken bones heal. Ever since the last cast came off and I was able to use the CAM boot and put some weight on my formerly broken foot, the screws have bothered me terribly when walking. It feels as though, with every step, they will protrude through the bottom of my foot.

I am back to wearing my Skecher's and Fagawi's and I could not be more thrilled!

Returning to work is NOT far behind.

The surgery taking place on the 16th is has a lot more risks involved. In the process of removing my parathyroid glands, for instance, my vocal cords could become temporarily or permanently paralyzed. How is that for a wake me up? Although I am certain there are a few people on this earth that probably wouldn't mind never hearing my voice again, it kind of freaks me out.

A lot.

What Light?

2009-05-26T09:25:00.003-04:00

For several weeks now I have been carrying around a bundle of darkness ~ and I don't know why.

I do know, however, that it is a deeply, volcanic, hissing ball of emotions that currently have me paralyzed because I am too afraid to confront them. I'm afraid because I have no idea the vast array of emotions that are lying just beneath the surface of me.

I know it's not healthy to walk around feeling this way ~ but I also know it's not healthy for me to even go there because I will most certainly be swept away by the lava.

Actually, that's not true. I do know why I am lugging this enormous weight around ~ I can't deal with the ultimate confrontation that will certainly come from me dropping it into the sea.

Sigh...

The Other Shoe?

2009-05-26T08:31:00.005-04:00

When Henry and I began the journey of Hunter more than 10 years ago ~ yes, it's really been THAT long ~ we could only pray and hope (and throw salt over our shoulder) that the actions of his frustrated rage would never involve the authorities. Unfortunately, in the past month, it has. Not once ~ but twice.

The first incident involved a glass chalkboard in his classroom and Hunter sliding a desk into it; shattering it to pieces. The second incident involved him assaulting his teacher. Charges have been filed, police reports have been written and filed and now we are at the mercy of the prosecutor and what he decides to do. The thought of Hunter, at twelve years of age, going in front of a judge on these charges, puts a huge lump in my gut that I haven't been able to shake since this all began.

Do I disagree with the charges? No, I don't. Do I think the police should have been involved? No, I don't. What do I hope comes out of all this? I have absolutely NO idea. See, I've never been down this road with Hunter before. It's foreign territory and it seems to put him in the role of an adult facing charges instead of a pre-teenager.

It hasn't registered with Hunter (and probably never will) the amount of trouble he's in. The disconnect in his brain doesn't allow him to bridge that gap.

Asperger's/Bipolar is not an excuse for his behavior and I agree there should be consequences for his actions. I'm just not so sure doing it in a legal arena is the right place to be.

The...other...shoe...has...dropped.

Thyroid Ultrasound

2009-05-13T00:28:00.005-04:00

The thyroid ultrasound I had on Monday pretty much confirmed what we already knew (parathyroid glands) and possibly what was suspected (thyroid). We won't know the official results of the ultrasound for three to five business days.

I am starting to really loathe that timeframe "three to five business days" for this, that, and the other. It's driving me crazy.

Health Update ~ Emotions

2009-05-09T02:03:00.007-04:00

Walking into the endocrinologists office today, Henry and I were expecting to find out which parathyroid gland was flipping out and to hopefully schedule surgery to have it removed. While we did find out which gland is causing all these problems and where it is located (lower left), we could not be given a date for surgery because the endocrinologist managing my healthcare does not perform them.

Instead, I had to contact a separate office to schedule a surgical consult for June 1st. Which was the earliest I could be seen. So we still do not have a date for surgery and I have to wait an additional 24 days to even get to the point of scheduling one.

What Henry and I were NOT expecting was finding out that the 24-hour urine test and the newest set of labs, requested by the endocrinologist, have turned up yet another health issue: Hashimoto's Disease.

In the span of maybe ten minutes it was confirmed that I would need minimally invasive surgery to remove the screwed up parathyroid gland and that there was a chance I might have to have a second surgery, with a much larger scar, if the surgeon was not able to locate it on the first attempt. I also heard Hashimoto's disease and the need for an ultrasound (scheduled for Monday, May 11th).

My head was spinning and I essentially shut down. My brain was having great difficulty processing the information just given to us and there was absolutely no way I could handle any additional input at that time. When we finally left the endocrinologist's office the only thought roaming through my head was "I cannot possibly handle finding out about me having another serious health issue".

Our ride to a restaurant for lunch was pretty quiet because both of us are frustrated at a process that is moving too slow in solving these problems and yet, at the same time, we know there is nothing we can do to speed it up.

During the ride several thoughts occurred to me.

I was wondering if having the VNS installed was a mistake and if all of my depression symptoms were related to my parathyroid and thyroid glands.
I want to know if that one final piece of clarity needed in my brain -- essentially the last leg of the journey of Coming Into the Light -- will be solved by curing the hyperparathyroidism and treating the Hashimoto's Disease.
I know exactly when the fog in my brain was lifted, where I was and what I was doing at the time. I know what that one moment of clarity looks like, feels like and tastes like because I've had it once before. Unfortunately, that sense of piece was very short-lived.It was March 2007. Henry and I were on a chairlift at our local snowboard area and vividly recall turning to him and saying "I feel good. My brain is clear, my thoughts are clear, everything seems so much brighter."

See, up to that moment I was living my life in shades of gray. The world around me was so dull and lifeless that when that moment hit me it was as though somebody had turned on a great big spotlight and pointed it directly at the world around me.

Two weeks later, at one of our most favorite snowboarding resorts, I fell and broke my elbow. Sitting here now, and looking back over the two years since then, I can say with almost absolute certainty that that is where I began falling apart all over again. Physically, mentally and emotionally.

Could it be that my fractured elbow two years ago was the beginning of the serious health issues I am experiencing now? Could it be that my broken nose in May 2008 accelerated the downward spiral and that my broken foot almost four months ago was the screaming and rattling wake-up call I needed to be a lot more attentive to my physical health?

Is my current depression, fatigue, memory problems, mood swings, sleep disturbances, irritability, and muscle aches attributable to something other than the lack of chemicals in my brain?

These are just a few of the many symptoms of hyperparathyroidism, hypercalcemia, and Hashimoto's Disease that I am experiencing and I've been blaming it on the chemical imbalance (BiPolar) in my brain.

I feel like a burden to my family. I feel as though I've let my husband down; something I seem to be inadvertently doing a lot of lately. I am sick and tired of being "sick and tired".

Right now I feel like death waiting to happen. Except if it comes, it won't be by my own hand. It will be by something I have absolutely no control over.

Isn't it ironic?

Health Update ~ Nuts and Bolts

2009-05-09T01:56:00.002-04:00

To bring everyone up to speed I broke my left foot on January 25th. The ER doc called the fractures "funky" and referred me to a Podiatrist.

After 8 weeks of casts, and absolutely zero signs of healing, my foot doc scheduled surgery for March 19th to install a plate and six screws. I immediately went to my personal physician and asked her to do a complete blood work up -- which is how we discovered my parathyroid glands are master overachievers. Not only was my parathyroid hormone level through the roof but so was my blood calcium level.

Until today I have been dealing with three diagnoses: fractured foot, 'hyperparathyroidism' and 'hypercalcemia'. The only way to correct hyperparathyroidism is via surgery to remove the gland that is causing the hypercalcemia.

These two conditions -- Hyperparathyroidism and Hypercalcemia -- kind of go hand-in-hand; the former causing the latter. In my case, these conditions are severe enough to cause me to have either a heart attack or complete heart failure.

Last week I visited the Nuclear Medicine department where they performed several scans of my parathyroid glands. Today I learned the results of those scans from my endocrinologist and it appears that only one of the four glands is affected and a surgical consult has been scheduled for June 1st. Hopefully surgery will be scheduled shortly after that. So far I was hearing everything I expected to hear from the endocrinologist.

What I had not planned on was hearing that I may have to have two surgeries to remove the messed-up parathyroid gland. The first surgery will be "minimally invasive" (outpatient, local anesthetic, very small incision on my neck.) I also was not expecting the doc to tell me there was a high probability that they would have to do a second, invasive surgery (under general anesthesia, large incision), to remove it.

At that point I'm thinking, "WTF. Why not." Then it gets better.

The last set of blood work the endocrinologist ordered shows that my immune system is attacking my thyroid (not parathyroid - although named similarly, they have nothing to do with the functions of the other) -- a condition called Hashimoto's Disease (an autoimmune disease). What this means is my immune system is essentially eating my thyroid gland and will continue to do so until there is nothing left of it.

[Note: The thyroid helps set the rate of metabolism - the rate at which the body uses energy. Hashimoto’s Disease prevents the gland from producing enough thyroid hormones for the body to work correctly.]

Thankfully Hashimoto's Disease can be helped with synthetic thyroid hormone replacement therapy. An ultrasound of my thyroid gland has been scheduled for Monday, May 11th to determine its size.

In two years I have broken three bones (elbow, nose, foot) and, so far, have had two surgeries (nose and foot). Soon I will be having a third surgery.

Possibly a fourth.

Does it get any better than this? (That's a rhetorical question, by the way.)

Caught in the Act!

2009-05-05T21:02:00.007-04:00

I still turn heads.

I love that I do.

Especially when it's the head of a sexy-as-hell man.

Today I had to giggle when I caught this sexy-as-hell, sharp-dressed man in a suit and tie checking out (quite intently I might add!) my backside. The compliments that preceded the look totally made my day.

I sure hope your back starts feeling better soon. :-)

25 Years Ago, May 4th

2009-05-05T20:35:00.005-04:00

I was given a flower and a note by someone that meant a great deal to me. That still means a great deal to me and because of that, I put that flower and its accompanying note into a scrapbook for future reference.

Recently I pulled that scrapbook out and flipped through the pages that were representative of my junior and senior years of high school. As I turned page after page I realized that, although my scrapbook contained many, many things -- including that flower and note -- the one thing it did not, could not, contain were the range of emotions I felt during that period of time.

The passion of being deeply in love with the man who gave me that flower and that handwritten note. The sensation of having become pregnant by him, and, in the blink of an eye, the heartbreaking way the baby was lost.

I have so many unanswered questions, that have been simmering inside of me, for 25 years. I desperately need closure where I am almost certain there will be none.

The myriad of emotions that cannot be contained in that scrapbook are now written all over my face...and represented in the tears sliding down my cheeks.

Just one more day, one more chance, one more opportunity to be...

My Birthday

2009-05-05T20:32:00.003-04:00

My dad forgot my birthday. Again. It has now become sort of a running joke between us. Except this year, I'm not finding it very funny.

Not even close.

Add to his forgetfulness the fact that Matthew and Connor didn't wish me a happy birthday either and I'm feeling downright invisible.

Again.

Hunter & Carrie Meds Update

2009-05-05T20:15:00.004-04:00

Hunter and I saw our Psychiatrist today and here is a list of our current meds:

~ Hunter's Current Meds ~

Abilify - 20mg, every morning
Concerta - 36mg, every morning
Concerta - 27mg, every noon

It appears Hunter is falling apart more in the afternoons, after lunch, than he is in the morning so a second, smaller, dose of Concerta was added.

I managed to hustle around today after our doctor appointment's to get the Concerta 27mg prescription filled so he could start taking that at lunchtime today. What a difference!

Not only did he score a 100% for the day but when I let him know a little while ago it was time for shower there was zero argument! In fact, only seconds passed before I heard the shower come on. WOW!

~ Carrie's Current Meds ~

Abilify - 5mg, bedtime
Adderall - 20mg, four times per day
Cymbalta - 60mg, bedtime
Lithium - 450mg, bedtime
Trazodone - 200mg, bedtime (for insomnia)
Plus the Vagus Nerve Stimulator

I also take Lasix - 20mg for hypercalcemia.

The only change made to my meds today was to the Abilify. For the past three months I have been taking 2mg of Abilify at bedtime but the highs and lows of my mood are pretty tightly spaced (rapid cycling) so we bumped it up a notch.

Let's see how the next month goes for Hunter and me.

Another Birthday ~ May 4th

2009-05-03T23:48:00.002-04:00

Tomorrow is my 42nd birthday and I'm not nearly as freaked out about it as I was the last two. Actually, that's not true. I am freaked out in the way that my heart could stop beating at any time and I'm only 42 years old.

Mmmmkay...

I think I will go to bed now.

Interim ~ by Edna St. Vincent Millay

2009-05-02T18:36:00.003-04:00

The room is full of you! -- As I came in
And closed the door behind me, all at once
A something in the air, intangible,
Yet stiff with meaning, struck my senses sick! --
Sharp, unfamiliar odors have destroyed
Each other room's dear personality.

The heavy scent of damp, funereal flowers, --
The very essence, hush-distilled, of Death --
Has strangled that habitual breath of home
Whose expiration leaves all houses dead;
And wheresoe'er I look is hideous change.
Save here.

Here 'twas as if a weed-choked gate
Had opened at my touch, and I had stepped
Into some long-forgot, enchanted, strange,
Sweet garden of a thousand years ago
And suddenly thought, "I have been here before!"

You are not here.
I know that you are gone,
And will not ever enter here again.
And yet it seems to me, if I should speak,
Your silent step must wake across the hall;
If I should turn my head, that your sweet eyes
Would kiss me from the door. -- So short a time
To teach my life its transposition to
This difficult and unaccustomed key!

The room is as you left it; your last touch --
A thoughtless pressure, knowing not itself
As saintly -- hallows now each simple thing;
Hallows and glorifies, and glows between
The dust's grey fingers like a shielded light.

There is your book, just as you laid it down,
Face to the table, -- I cannot believe
That you are gone! -- Just then it seemed to me
You must be here. I almost laughed to think
How like reality the dream had been;
Yet knew before I laughed, and so was still.
That book, outspread, just as you laid it down!
Perhaps you thought, "I wonder what comes next,
And whether this or this will be the end";
So rose, and left it, thinking to return.

Perhaps that chair, when you arose and passed
Out of the room, rocked silently a while
Ere it again was still. When you were gone
Forever from the room, perhaps that chair,
Stirred by your movement, rocked a little while,
Silently, to and fro. . .

And here are the last words your fingers wrote,
Scrawled in broad characters across a page
In this brown book I gave you. Here your hand,
Guiding your rapid pen, moved up and down.
Here with a looping knot you crossed a "t",
And here another like it, just beyond
These two eccentric "e's". You were so small,
And wrote so brave a hand!
How strange it seems
That of all words these are the words you chose!
And yet a simple choice; you did not know
You would not write again. If you had known --
But then, it does not matter, -- and indeed
If you had known there was so little time
You would have dropped your pen and come to me
And this page would be empty, and some phrase
Other than this would hold my wonder now.
Yet, since you could not know, and it befell
That these are the last words your fingers wrote,
There is a dignity some might not see
In this, "I picked the first sweet-pea to-day."

To-day! Was there an opening bud beside it
You left until to-morrow? -- O my love,
The things that withered, -- and you came not back!
That day you filled this circle of my arms
That now is empty. (O my empty life!)
That day -- that day you picked the first sweet-pea, --
And brought it in to show me! I recall
With terrible distinctness how the smell
Of your cool gardens drifted in with you.
I know, you held it up for me to see
And flushed because I looked not at the flower,
But at your face; and when behind my look
You saw such unmistakable intent
You laughed and brushed your flower against my lips.
(You were the fairest thing God ever made,I think.)

And then your hands above my heart
Drew down its stem into a fastening,
And while your head was bent I kissed your hair.
I wonder if you knew. (Beloved hands!
Somehow I cannot seem to see them still.
Somehow I cannot seem to see the dust
In your bright hair.)

What is the need of Heaven
When earth can be so sweet? -- If only God
Had let us love, -- and show the world the way!
Strange cancellings must ink th' eternal books
When love-crossed-out will bring the answer right!

That first sweet-pea! I wonder where it is.
It seems to me I laid it down somewhere,
And yet, -- I am not sure. I am not sure,
Even, if it was white or pink; for then
'Twas much like any other flower to me,
Save that it was the first. I did not know,
Then, that it was the last. If I had known --
But then, it does not matter. Strange how few,
After all's said and done, the things that are
Of moment. Few indeed! When I can make
Of ten small words a rope to hang the world!

"I had you and I have you now no more."
There, there it dangles, -- where's the little truth
That can for long keep footing under that
When its slack syllables tighten to a thought?
Here, let me write it down! I wish to see
Just how a thing like that will look on paper!

"*I had you and I have you now no more*."

O little words, how can you run so straight
Across the page, beneath the weight you bear?
How can you fall apart, whom such a theme
Has bound together, and hereafter aid
In trivial expression, that have been
So hideously dignified? -- Would God
That tearing you apart would tear the thread
I strung you on! Would God -- O God, my mind
Stretches asunder on this merciless rack
Of imagery! O, let me sleep a while!

Would I could sleep, and wake to find me back
In that sweet summer afternoon with you.

Summer? 'Tis summer still by the calendar!
How easily could God, if He so willed,
Set back the world a little turn or two!
Correct its griefs, and bring its joys again!
We were so wholly one I had not thought
That we could die apart. I had not thought
That I could move, -- and you be stiff and still!
That I could speak, -- and you perforce be dumb!
I think our heart-strings were, like warp and woof
In some firm fabric, woven in and out;

Your golden filaments in fair design
Across my duller fibre. And to-day
The shining strip is rent; the exquisite
Fine pattern is destroyed; part of your heart
Aches in my breast; part of my heart lies chilled
In the damp earth with you. I have been torn
In two, and suffer for the rest of me.

What is my life to me? And what am I
To life, -- a ship whose star has guttered out?
A Fear that in the deep night starts awake
Perpetually, to find its senses strained
Against the taut strings of the quivering air,
Awaiting the return of some dread chord?

Dark, Dark, is all I find for metaphor;
All else were contrast, -- save that contrast's wall
Is down, and all opposed things flow together
Into a vast monotony, where
day, and frost and thaw, and death and life,
Are synonyms. What now -- what now to me
Are all the jabbering birds and foolish flowers
That clutter up the world? You were my song!
Now, let discord scream! You were my flower!
Now let the world grow weeds! For I shall not
Plant things above your grave -- (the common balm
Of the conventional woe for its own wound!)

Amid sensations rendered negative
By your elimination stands to-day,
Certain, unmixed, the element of grief;
I sorrow; and I shall not mock my truth
With travesties of suffering, nor seek
To effigy its incorporeal bulk
In little wry-faced images of woe.

I cannot call you back; and I desire
No utterance of my immaterial voice.
I cannot even turn my face this way
Or that, and say, "My face is turned to you";
I know not where you are, I do not know
If Heaven hold you or if earth transmute,
Body and soul, you into earth again;
But this I know: -- not for one second's space
Shall I insult my sight with visionings
Such as the credulous crowd so eager-eyed
Beholds, self-conjured, in the empty air.

Let the world wail! Let drip its easy tears!
My sorrow shall be dumb! -- What do I say?
God! God! -- God pity me! Am I gone mad
That I should spit upon a rosary?
Am I become so shrunken? Would to God
I too might feel that frenzied faith whose touch
Makes temporal the most enduring grief;
Though it must walk a while, as is its wont,
With wild lamenting! Would I too might weep
Where weeps the world and hangs its piteous wreaths
For its new dead! Not Truth, but Faith, it is
That keeps the world alive. If all at once
Faith were to slacken, -- that unconscious faith
Which must, I know, yet be the corner-stone
Of all believing, -- birds now flying fearless
Across would drop in terror to the earth;
Fishes would drown; and the all-governing reins
Would tangle in the frantic hands of God
And the worlds gallop headlong to destruction!

O God, I see it now, and my sick brain
Staggers and swoons! How often over me
Flashes this breathlessness of sudden sight
In which I see the universe unrolled
Before me like a scroll and read thereon
Chaos and Doom, where helpless planets whirl
Dizzily round and round and round and round,
Like tops across a table, gathering speed
With every spin, to waver on the edge
One instant -- looking over -- and the next
To shudder and lurch forward out of sight --

* * * * *

Ah, I am worn out -- I am wearied out --
It is too much -- I am but flesh and blood,
And I must sleep. Though you were dead again,
I am but flesh and blood and I must sleep.

Certified Medical Assistant!

2009-05-02T18:26:00.004-04:00

I finally received the results of my certification exam. When they tell you to expect your test results in 12 weeks, they are NOT kidding!

I scored in the 94 percentile overall.

I can now sign my name in charts as "Carrie, CMA (AAMA)".

Yeah, I rock!

Health Issues

2009-05-01T19:37:00.003-04:00

We are going into month four of health issues and it appears we may have one of the four on the road to healing. The four health issues I am dealing with are:

Hypercalcemia (caused by...)
Hyperparathyroidism (preventing my...)
Broken left foot from healing properly (which has, indirectly, caused injury to my...)
Left elbow

This past Tuesday the foot doc gave me the nod for putting 50% of my weight on my left foot AND no more casts! It appears the plate and six screws holding my fifth metatarsal together are doing their job!

The hypercalcemia (too much blood calcium) has me a lot freaked out because the overabundance of blood calcium can cause a heart attack or the heart to fail altogether.

I feel like a partially mobile time-bomb...

Funerals

2009-05-01T19:28:00.003-04:00

The mother of my best childhood friend passed away last week and as I was sitting at Ms. Marceil's (who was also my dance teacher) funeral last weekend, something occurred to me. When people cry at funeral's, are they crying for the currently deceased? Or are they crying for every loss and every heartache they themselves have ever known?

Me?

All of the above...

Forked Tongues

2009-04-06T02:53:00.012-04:00

With all the "alone" time I've had the last ten weeks, I've spent a great deal of it thinking about where I came from, how I arrived at this moment in time, my mistakes (a lot), my triumph's (a few) and all the would'a, could'a, should'as that I let slip by me.

Some passed by me deliberately -- or simply by design. Other's were too good to be true and my kitten curiosity got the better of me so I took a much closer look, got scratched, and set them on their way again.

Then there were the opportunities that I sought out willingly; having researched all the angles and having viewed everything under an electron microscope, I thought for certain they would be the right things for me to pursue.

What I didn't know at the time, nor did I listen to what people were trying to tell me -- I refused to listen -- has taken me 14 months to finally figure out on my own.

One of my biggest flaws is that I try very hard to see the good in every person. A person can take advantage of me numerous times, sometimes over a period of several years, before I finally have an epiphany.

As difficult as it was to realize, it was much harder to admit to myself, that there really are people in this world who whisper sweet nothings in your ear, tell you everything you want to hear, treat you like you exist only for them, all the while luring you and others into their evil games with promises of 'forever' dripping off their forked tongues.

Once they have you trapped, they fall back on an imagined addiction and how they need to get "sober" and -- POOF! -- they drop completely off the radar.

They don't bother telling you that you have served your purpose for their little games first so you can attempt to find some sort of closure, that would be too easy. They just vanish.

Then they pop up again, attempting to pick up where they left off before they needed to get "sober". So, you listen to them, your heart aching for everything they've been through. Then you find out that they've been recruiting others just like you since they dropped off the radar with you.

And then, they fall off the radar again, as abruptly as they had reappeared just hours before. This time you are not content with the "addiction", "sober" crap that they have been spoon feeding you and you vow to get the last word.

*Note I said 'word'.*

People like this don't know the meaning of the word respect, they don't realize that what THEY are doing is the sole cause of pain to those closest to them.

I guess some of them are just lucky enough to have a person who always has (and always will be) their "clean-up person".

These people don't have "addictions", what they really have, in their own minds, are justifications for treating people horribly without any consequences whatsoever.

They don't know what love is, they've never felt it, or given it.

They don't know when a person with the purest of intentions comes to them. All they see is their next victim.

They can wish someone all the "love and happiness in the world" they want.

It will never make up for the people they almost destroyed while they were so hell-bent on playing their evil games.

25 Things About Me

2009-04-06T02:46:00.003-04:00

My astrological sign is Taurus. I'm stubborn and strong-willed.
I freely admit when I'm wrong. Usually. Even to my kids. Especially.
My nickname is "Pickles Annie". My dad still calls me "Pickles" or "Annie". Usually it's "Annie". My dad and grandfather gave me the nickname because I love pickles.
I am the fourth child of five, after three sons. I have a younger sister.
My parents are divorced and remarried. To different people, silly!
My eldest brother, Jimmy, died in a car wreck on March 29, 1979 when he was 18 years old. I was 11.
I graduated 25 years to the day and date after my mother on June 9, 1985.
I went to my five year reunion but none since.
I was a cheerleader for football and basketball.
I had my first son, Matthew, on September 6, 1989 when I was 22. He weighed 10 lbs. and was 23 inches long.
I had my second son, Connor, on November 18, 1993 when I was 26.
Alexander, my third son, was born and died September 13, 1995. The pain NEVER subsides; it just becomes a comfortable ache.
My youngest son, Hunter, was born on February 2, 1997.
My stepson, Jake, was born on June 9, 1993.
Henry is my fourth -- and final -- husband. We met via Yahoo!
We own a yacht. We keep it on Lake St. Clair. This is the second yacht we have owned.
My husband and I are certified SCUBA divers.
We have two Jeeps -- "HIS GP" and "HER GP".
I’m a damn good snowboarder!
I broke my left elbow on St. Patrick's Day 2007.
I broke my nose in May 2008.
I model formal/bridal gowns part-time.
I play paintball with my husband and boys.
I broke my left foot on January 25, 2009.
I turn “42” this year. I suspect THAT will hurt like hell, too.

(updated 04/06/09)

Sounds of Silence

2009-04-06T02:28:00.005-04:00

Well, kind of.

It's almost 2 o'clock in the morning and my house is mostly quiet.

There are two "tickingtocking" clocks that are hung on walls approximately 10 feet apart. They have never "ticked" or "tocked" at the same time since we've owned them, so there is a constant chattering that I can't get away from.

Sometimes it seems like my heart beats with both their rhythms and when I pay close attention to all three, they drown everything else out.

Until something breaks the silence.

Like Hunter shifting positions in his bed directly above where I am sitting. Or the dog, Oreo, snoring. Or, thanks to Mother Nature and the winter storm warning, the thunder and lightning going on outside the doorwall next to me. The forecasters say we might be receiving 10 inches of snow so the winter storm warning is in effect until 8 p.m. tonight (Monday).

I've had a lot of silent time on my hands lately. Ten weeks worth...and still counting. Yep. Ten whole weeks since I broke my foot and boy did that open up a Pandora's Box of health issues I never saw coming.

When I saw the "Wizard of Feet" eight weeks after I broke my foot and it was clear to my untrained eye -- and confirmed by the "Wizard" -- that there had yet to be any healing taking place, and after he explained the only option available to me would be surgery, I knew what I needed to do next. Have a complete blood work-up.

The first set of lab results showed my serum (blood) Calcium to be high. This is not good. The second set of labs showed my Parathyroid Hormones to be high, too. (A "normal" PTH reading is between 10 - 65; mine is 105.)

My doctor referred me out for a Dexa-Scan (bone density scan) as well as to an Endocrinologist. Both of which I accomplished last week.

My bones look good -- no signs of osteoporosis yet -- and the Endocrinologist ordered a whole new set of labs PLUS a 24-hour urine. (A 24-hour urine is simply capturing ALL of your urine for, yep, 24-hours in a big lab container, while keeping it refrigerated.)

If you've ever done one of these without a broken-no-weight-bearing-foot; consider yourselves lucky.

The lab tech who drew my blood for the Endocrinologist actually works for the lab who tests all the labs drawn in that office.

One would think, at least I did, that said lab tech would actually know what the hell she was doing when doing a venipuncture.

Five tiger-top tubes of blood later and a hematoma (knot) where she poked me, that lasted more than 24 hours, and the resulting bruise that makes me look like a drug addict and I think she should never draw blood again.

Ah...'ticktock'...'ticktock'...the sounds of silence...

Will the Healing Finally Begin?

2009-03-21T03:53:00.007-04:00

I had surgery on my foot last Thursday, March 19th and it went well. The doctor inserted a plate and several screws.

Except for feeling like my cast is too small, and the throbbing and burning pain, I feel pretty good.

Let the healing begin...please?

Broken Foot Update

2009-02-25T22:04:00.004-05:00

As of today it has been exactly thirty days since I broke my foot.

Within the first two weeks of the injury I had the pleasure of wearing three different casts. The first cast, a splint of sorts, was given to me by the emergency department until I was able to follow up with a specialist.

The second cast, bright red, was given to me by the specialist two days after I broke my foot. Five days later we had to cut the cast off because I somehow managed to not cover it properly for a shower and wound up soaking it.

The third, and so far final, cast (hot pink color) was a replacement for the soaked cast and I wore it for less than thirty minutes. When the cast was being applied I had to flex my foot and managed to hyperflex my toes as well. Once the cast dried I realized having my toes in that position for another three weeks was not possible because it was painful AND uncomfortable so I asked the doctor to cut it off.

Instead of applying another cast I was given a "CAM Boot" that is specifically made for metatarsal injuries AND I could go back to work because I was able to walk with it.

I managed to work for approximately two weeks when my next doctor appointment rolled around and my foot/ankle was x-rayed again. When the doctor slapped my x-rays up on the screen I knew instantly what he was going to say and my eyes started to well up with tears. The x-rays showed absolutely no healing and although I could continue wearing the boot, I was remanded to using crutches 100% of the time.

Which means I cannot work. Which means I have cabin-fever in the worst way and I'm tired of laying around. I can still drive (because I broke my left foot) and many stores have motorized wheelchairs, but it takes forever for me to get ready to even leave the house so I don't do it very often.

What most people don't realize is the enormous amount of energy it takes for your body to heal a broken bone, so a trip out of the house is exhausting.

...sigh...

Hunter is 12!

2009-02-25T04:51:00.002-05:00

Okay, so I'm a few weeks late in posting this, but I am proud to say that Hunter turned 12 years-old on February 2nd. Relieved, too. There was a time -- well, actually, a LOT of times, I wondered if he would.

I look back over his life -- from the first time I heard his heartbeat to now -- and I stand in awe of him. Bringing him into this world at the proper gestational age and bringing him into this world alive was not an easy thing to do. Especially because I did it by myself.

A few weeks ago and at his request, I shaved Hunter's head. As I was removing chunks of hair from his scalp I couldn't help but stare at him. Several times during the process he would tilt his head a certain way, or look at me a certain way, and it was as though I was looking at his brother, Connor. The resemblance would be even more frightening if each of them shared the same eye color. Hunter has very dark brown eyes and Connor's are a bright, brilliant blue.

Happy Birthday, Hunter Bear!

What I Heard

2009-02-25T04:41:00.003-05:00

I feel we are at an impasse; purposely avoiding the full-size elephant standing in the center of the room.

What I heard him say the other day at lunch was that he felt I have never put everything I could into our marriage. I can't remember if I even replied to that statement because all I felt at the time was the radiating pain from the enormous punch to my gut.

All I can say right now is he is entitled to his feelings, just as I am entitled to mine. We are different people, with different opinions and very different points of view.

I feel he has never recovered from the night I tried to overdose -- and that he harbors deep resentment and anger toward me because of it.

Of course, I could be wrong.

Unbelievable!

2009-01-26T11:06:00.003-05:00

As of last night, I have now had more broken bones in the past three years than I have had in my entire life.

Stepping off a curb last night my left foot buckled under me and I heard the unmistakable "snap" as I fell to my knees onto the pavement.

I spiral-fractured the fifth metatarsal of my left foot and the emergency department put me in a half-cast (to accommodate the swelling) until I see the orthopedic physician this afternoon.

Un-freaking-believable!

Brain Dump

2008-12-31T03:37:00.011-05:00

This post will probably run around the world a few times in a mostly haphazard way. Which means it will probably make very little sense to anyone.

I’ve been awake for almost 48 hours now and I fear if I do not start writing, and continue writing until either my fingers bleed or my head explodes, I will not be sleeping anytime soon.

My most recent thought has to do with my oldest brother, Jimmy. The year 2009 will mark what would have been his 48th birthday, as well as the 30th anniversary of his death. I’m not sure why this popped into my head because neither date on the calendar has any significance to me any longer. Well, that’s not entirely true I suppose.

The substance seems to be the disbelief I feel that so much time has passed already. These two dates are also crisp reminders of the enormous upheaval in my family around the same time.

The past few days my mind has wandered over the many events of 2008. What a year. What a convoluted freaking year.

Not everything that happened in the previous 12 months was dreadful though. For instance my magnificent grand-niece, Haleigha Kelis was born in January. I was present at the hospital when my niece, Dayna, gave birth to her. Although only Haleigha’s daddy was in the delivery room, my sister, who is Dayna’s mom, and I were able to hear her first screams through the operating room door.

Because Dayna had to have a c-section, she was not able to hold Haleigha right away – which sucked for both her and the baby. But it was such an amazing blessing for me to be standing near my niece when the nurse placed her tiny daughter in her arms for the very first time.

The look on Dayna’s face is beyond words. As Dayna began absorbing the enormity of this event in her life, my sister, sitting on the other side of the bed from me, whispered to Dayna “You’re in love, aren’t you?” Dayna was so bowled over by her daughter that without taking her eyes off the beautiful creature cradled in her arms, the only answer she could manage was a slow nod of her head.

Also in January, on a very snowy/icy night, a very preoccupied woman driver crossed four lanes of traffic (in a four-door Ford Escort if I remember correctly) to turn left in a lane on the other side of me. Although I was in four-wheel drive and traveling at a slow speed, I still locked up the brakes on my four-door Jeep Wrangler Sahara trying my best to avoid hitting her – but wound up hitting her anyway.

We finally had our day in court last summer and the judge all but flat-out called her a liar. The judge had both our police reports in front of him and asked the woman to tell him her version of the events of that night. He listened to her for about ten seconds before telling her, in an annoyed tone of voice, that everything she just related to him was in direct opposition of what her (and my) police reports said. He let her have another go at it so she picked up where she left off a minute before and he stopped her again. I no longer remember his exact words but I remember secretly hoping he would blatantly call her a liar.

The courthouse we were at had every person that had business with the court to wait outside the courtroom. From there we were called in one case at a time so we had a considerable wait.

I pulled into the courthouse parking lot right behind the defendant. The reason I knew it was her was because she had not had her car repaired yet and I remembered her telling me, the night of the accident in the back of the police car, that she did not carry full-coverage automobile insurance. I let her exit her vehicle first and gave her a head start to the courthouse before stepping out of mine and slowly walking toward the door.

I didn’t notice at first where she and her young daughter were sitting but it wasn’t long before I heard a woman’s voice complaining about how she was the victim and could not believe she received a ticket for something I did wrong. It was quite apparent that she was speaking loud enough so I could hear her and I couldn’t help but shake my head and giggle a little at all the untruthfulness spewing from her tobacco stained mouth.

Apparently I wasn’t as quiet as I thought I was and a young man sitting next to me and another young man sitting across from me wanted to know what had me so amused. Being that I am a polite person, I kept my voice low and gave them highlights of what really happened that night. The young men, who were in their early teens, found it quite entertaining to stare and make comments about her.

Let’s see – February…ahhhh…yes…February. For the past several months (since February) I have been a consistent shoulder for a very dear girlfriend of mine to cry upon and an ear for her to vent to. In February Connie met a man and, very quickly, they were swept up in a relationship hurricane. Apparently, the two of them hit it off instantly and they spent hours upon hours on the phone talking or text messaging.

Connie would tell me about the interests they had in common and how each of them had experienced so many similar life events and tribulations that it was spooky. It had been a long time since I had seen Connie, someone I have known forever, so deliriously happy so I encouraged her to enjoy her new friend. It didn’t occur to me at the time that I should also have been cautioning her about giving so much of herself to him so fast.

For as long as I’ve known her, she has almost always protected her vulnerabilities with a wall. Like most of us, she has been devastated in the past by relationships she thought were “the one” and every time one of those relationships failed, the wall around her rose a little higher. For Connie, there was just something about Tom, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it that made her trust him implicitly – almost from minute one.

Not long after Connie and Tom met, the powers-that-be decided a relationship between the two of them really wasn’t such a good idea after all. Connie was inconsolable and prayed many times a day that the planets would realign and allow the two of them to be together again and, for a brief time, they were.

Boy did that piss off the gods!

I tried my best to continue being a good friend to Connie during all of this but I was preparing to return to school full-time and my free time became limited so we weren’t communicating as frequently as before.

Connie and Tom circled around each other for awhile, sending sporadic emails to each other during July and August. She said the deeply intense feelings they had for each other were stronger than ever and she felt they were still very close. I remember her also being distraught over the fact that they were not able to see each other because each of their schedules was out of control.

One day I received a phone call from Connie – I think it was right around Labor Day. She was in utter agony about an email she received from Tom. The gist of the email was that he was severing all ties to her and their relationship, closing his email account and walking away. I think he wished her well and wished her love, too. Yeah, like that’s going to soften the blow. She replied to his email and knew within seconds that he really did close his email account because her message bounced back to her.

In case you’re wondering, there is a reason why I shared this story about my very best girlfriend Connie and Tom. I was in a (sadly) unique position and able to empathize with her about feeling abandoned because I’ve been there. Done that. More than once. My family started it.

Deserted. Discarded. Forsaken. Dumped. Cast off. These are all words and feelings that have been not only flying through my brain, but regurgitating emotions I thought I had actually worked through. Clearly I only choked them down and buried them.

For me, the most difficult aspect of being abandoned is trying to determine the reason, or reasons, why. It all boiled down to the simple question of “what’s wrong with ME?”

I was hoping I could impart the wisdom of my experiences to my girlfriend to ease her pain a little. Once I admitted to myself that I really didn’t have any words of wisdom to convey to her because I never dealt with my own to become the “wise” one, I realized I had some work to do on myself.

Once upon a time I had a very comparable relationship to the one Connie had had with Tom – except I was infinitely more naïve. Mr. B and I were in turbo mode from the nanosecond we laid eyes on each other. Anyway, one day I received a “Dear Jane” email from Mr. B and, like Tom, “poof” he, too, was gone.

I wandered around in a fog for many days after I read that email, replaying every second of every minute we spent together. I dissected our emails trying to find a sign or hint of what was to come but nothing leaped off the screen at me.

I was stumbling and fumbling in a major way. I couldn’t sleep, I was barely eating. I kept the world at arm’s length. I had poured out my heart and soul to this man. All my secrets, fears, dreams, desires and aspirations were handed to him because I trusted him. Each of us had found out in previous relationships that we totally sucked at being vulnerable to anybody. Up to and including ourselves. Somehow we managed to allow ourselves to be vulnerable to each other.

His “Dear Jane” email dragged up the excruciating childhood emotions of feeling totally and utterly alone. Of being that 10 year-old girl who got herself up and off to school every morning. After school I became the housekeeper, laundress and cook for my dad and two brothers because my mom didn’t live there anymore.

Not only was I alone, but I was lonely, too. Nobody understood me because nobody knew me.

I learned at a very young age that I couldn’t trust anyone around me to take care of me.

I learned to distrust my instincts between good and evil; right and wrong.

I realized, at the age of six, that in order to survive the environment I was being raised in, I had to put the fragile core of my being on lock-down.

Mr. B’s rejection of me had an overpowering impact because not only did he make it a point to assure, and reassure, me that he would always be in my life, but he had abandonment issues of his own. So there we were assuring and reassuring each other.

Although a good deal of time has passed since he walked out of my life, I still feel that same flash of pain in my chest that I felt that day he said goodbye. I tried grieving him, as if he had passed away. I even tried stopping thoughts of him from entering my mind in the first place. Connie and I would put our heads together and work furiously on finding closure and peace for relationships that ended without our input.

Ever since Connie’s Tsunami of a relationship ended I have found myself closed off from the people around me – especially from the Love of My Life, Henry. The eerie similarities of Connie’s relationship with Tom and my relationship with Mr. B really plowed me under. What I can’t understand is why? Why now?

Could it be that for the past couple of months I have not been feeling right in my own skin? I don’t believe it has anything to do with my meds because whatever mood swings I have are controllable. I’m not arcing drastically from one side to the other. In actuality, I mostly just feel numb.

I am not able to define the “mode” I am currently in. Is it purely instinctive? Mindless? Habitual? Routine? Whatever it is, I manage (mostly) to get from Point A to Point B – and sometimes even to Point V.

With the exception of not sleeping (I have now been up for a little more than 48-hours) I’m not manic in the careless-bring-on-the-danger kind of way like I have been in the past. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? When I’m in the clutches of that type of mania I actually want some jerk to cut me off in traffic so I can drag him out of his car and pummel him. I would, of course, be wearing a dimpled-smile during the entire process.

Right now I am kind of hell-bent on finding closure for my relationship with Mr. B. I have absolutely no idea whatsoever how I will do that, but it’s something I feel very strongly about. My hope is that in doing so I just might be able to resolve all the other issues that bubbled up with my memories of my relationship with him.

It’s been such a long time since our split that I’m not even certain if I will be able to ask him the questions I have. He was such a powerful force in my life once upon a time that there was nothing or almost nothing, that I would not do for him. I feel confident in saying that, at one time, he felt the same way toward me.

In reality, there are several relationships I wish to either reconcile and move forward with or resolve and finally bring to a close.

Newly Graduated AND Employed Medical Assistant!

2008-12-30T16:40:00.001-05:00

As of Monday, December 29th I am no longer a "Student" Medical Assistant -- I am a graduated AND gainfully employed Medical Assistant!

I am over-the-moon thrilled at continuing on at the same practice I completed my externship at. I became sad at the thought of not being able to stay there because I became attached to a number of amazing patients -- and they have become attached to me, too.

With the exception of the Office Manager (as far as I know anyway), I was the only other employee with the knowledge that there was a good possibility I would be asked to join the practice after my externship was over. I didn't even tell the patients I was working with. Even after they expressed their disappointment if I became employed elsewhere. That was tough to do, too!

Today I performed a wound care on a delightful 80-something year old woman. In the short span of three days, approximately two weeks ago, she was involved in an automobile accident (she was driving, totaled her van and received a black eye and a cut on her eyebrow) then she slipped and fell in her kitchen and scraped up both of her shins in ways you cannot begin to imagine.

I assisted the physician in removing both of her leg bandages to confirm everything was healing properly and that there was no infection present. Thanks to daily home health care, they are healing beautifully and there is currently no sign of infection.

She also scraped up one of her wrists but I cannot remember if that was from the auto accident or the slip and fall.

Today I learned another venipuncture technique -- drawing blood from a patient's foot. This patient was a retired LPN and when I entered the exam room to draw her blood she let me know right away that she was a difficult draw. She was NOT exaggerating! Her veins teeny tiny AND could not be palpated at least locate even if we could not see them.

I hear that a lot from patients -- "I'm a difficult draw". I instantly think, inside my head of course, "I LOVE a challenge"! Nine times out of ten (in my head, of course!) I prove the patient wrong. Several times I have been either the ONLY MA in our office, or the only OTHER MA in our office do a successful draw in ONE poke.

I almost exclusively use a "butterfly" needle when drawing blood. Mostly because the needle is smaller in diameter, shorter in length and easier to manipulate if a vein "rolls" and I need to reposition it within the patient's arm.

I like the "butterfly" needle so much so that I tell my patients it's my "Magic" needle. I try to time the delivery of that information to occur just before I insert the needle into the patient's arm. As the patient ponders on how a needle could possibly be "Magic", I'm in and out of their vein.

Almost every single time I use my "Magic" needle the first thing the patient says when I've removed the needle from their arm is "That didn't hurt a bit!" I flash them a cheesy, dimpled smile and tell them "That's my "Magic" needle!"

The "Magic" needle is not the only distraction technique I employ when drawing blood. Because the "butterfly" needle is so low-profile, I come in low on the vein. Other MAs come in high on the vein.

Here's the difference.

Coming in Low: Holding the "butterfly" between my thumb and first finger, I make sure that the rest of the hand (palm and three fingers) I'm holding the needle in is lightly resting on the patient's arm. Although I do this to steady my hand, I have found it is also a simple distraction for the patient. Because I have positioned the needle to be as close to parallel as possible to the arm, I allow my thumb and finger to softly drag across the patient's skin as I head for the vein. Instead of concentrating solely on the "poke" to come, they feel the warmth of my hand and the slight pressure of my fingers on their arm while they're pondering how a needle can be "Magic". :-)

Coming in High: I saw this a lot in school. It's not an "incorrect" way by any means, it is just my personal opinion that it is much more painful for the patient. Instead of resting your hands and fingers on the patient's arm, typically only the pinkie finger of the hand holding the "butterfly" makes contact with the patient's skin. The needle is typically positioned at a 20 to 30 degree angle.

Externship - Week 7

2008-12-23T22:12:00.011-05:00

Week 7 of my externship flew by!

Tomorrow is the last day of my externship and today the Office Manager pulled me into her office and offered me a permanent position! She was highly complimentary of my professionalism and abilities as a Medical Assistant. She also shared with me the feedback she received from the physicians and patients and it appears I made quite an impression on everyone in the office. Boy did hearing all that feel GOOD!

A few weeks ago I had a slight problem with one of the other MAs. I was in the hallway with a patient when the other MA behaved in a very unprofessional manner toward me -- and in front of the patient. Her comments were out-of-line in general, but she definitely should not have shared them with me in front of a patient.

I stewed for a little while about the incident with the other MA and finally decided to handle it properly -- the professional way.

When I noticed the other MA had finished with her patient and was alone in one of the exam rooms, I asked her if she had a minute to talk and she said yes. I stepped into the exam room, closed the door behind me and in a business-like tone of voice I let her know that she was not only completely out of line, she should never have approached me to discuss anything like that in front of a patient.

That MA met with the Office Manager to let her know of the exchange between us and not only was the office manager completely impressed with the way I handled it, she totally agreed with what I said. Much to the dismay of that MA.

During Week 7 I assisted a different MA with an ear irrigation on a patient with impacted wax. I was not yet ready to perform this procedure on my own -- and this would only have been the second time I have observed -- so I offered to assist instead. It's not that I am not confident that I can perform this procedure, I am just a tiny bit hesitant because it takes very little to puncture an eardrum.

Our patient was a very sweet and funny, average height, but very thin, elderly woman. The MA and I took turns looking into the patient's ear with the scope trying to determine the severity of the situation. Absolutely none of those peeks prepared us for what we finally extracted from her ear.

For starters, the patient had very tiny ear canals -- similar to those of a young child -- which means it took quite a bit more water than usual.

The apparatus we use to squirt water into the patient's ear reminds me of a metal cookie press with a (icing) decorating tip on the end. We also use an emesis basin (a small, odd-shaped bowl you find in hospitals) to catch the water as it drains from the ear.

We draw warm water into the tube, gently insert the tip and, pointing the tip toward the top of the ear canal, begin squirting water into the ear. (Pointing the tip straight into the ear canal can severely damage the eardrum.)

We were able to dislodge small particles of wax and I think we were just finishing our third tube of water when the other MA stopped to draw the fourth. As the patient raised her hand to her ear, the other MA noticed a large object sitting right at the opening of the patient's ear canal and prevented her from touching it.

The MA picked up a tool from the counter to scoop the object out of the patient's ear. Instead of successfully scooping it from the patient's ear it flopped out onto the floor near the MAs feet. By this time the three of us are giggling like crazy, the patient is thrilled she can hear again and the MA scoops the object off the floor and onto a paper towel.

Although my husband may disagree with me, I really do have a pretty strong stomach. (Baby, does last Christmas mean anything to you?) The combination of a hot, stuffy, small exam room, the marble-size, multicolored object on the paper towel, and the smell emanating from it, I quietly excused myself from the room.

The very important thing to remember is this: I did NOT vomit! I was gagging at the base of my throat, but I did NOT vomit!

After taking a few deep breaths and running cold water across my wrists, I returned to the exam room and assisted the other MA with finishing up.

Externship - Week 6

2008-12-15T22:26:00.002-05:00

Well, my externship period is quickly winding down. Although most students complete theirs within the six-week time frame, mine will take a tad bit longer to log 180 hours because I am only working approximately 30 hours per week.

Today was an interesting day in the office. Not only were we wall-to-wall with patients to be seen but the incoming phone calls to our area were completely whacked! The volume of phone calls and voicemails were so high that it took one MA almost completely out of patient care to keep them under somewhat control.

My favorite elderly patient (the one who made me realize the inevitable) came in to the office today to be hooked up to a 24-hour Holter monitor. She, and her husband, are two of the sweetest people I know and I always enjoy working with them.

I was blessed to work with a new patient (new to me) today, too. After pulling her lab requisition from the pocket on the wall outside her exam room door, I knocked on the door, then poked my head in to introduce myself and tell her I would be back in just a few minutes to draw blood from her.

She had the saddest eyes I have seen in a long time and I knew it wouldn't take much for the tears collecting on her lower lid to spill over onto her cheeks.

After collecting my equipment and paperwork I returned to her room and sat down on the chair across from her. As I organized the tubes, needle, cotton balls and such, I made small talk with her.

Finally our eyes just kind of locked on each other and very quietly I said to her "You look so sad today..." As she reached for a tissue in her pocket to stop the avalanche of tears, I leaned over to her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. After a few minutes she was able to tell me the reason for her sadness.

Her husband of 63 years fell recently and broke his hip and was in a nursing home. Because she had had one of her own hips replaced in 2004, she was no longer able to drive and had become reliant upon one of her daughters, who lives nearby, to take her to see her husband. She indicated today that the nursing facility her husband is in would be weaning him off of the trach tube soon.

As if that weren't quite enough stress for this beautiful lady, she is also trying to understand Medicare and the mumbo-jumbo that constitutes their "policy".

So, we just sat there together for several minutes. She poured her heart out and I listened.

I did get around to the blood draw eventually, but at that particular moment in time, drawing blood was not nearly as important to me as it was for me to listen and to be human and compassionate to a very beautiful woman with the sad eyes.

Externship - Week 5

2008-12-08T23:49:00.004-05:00

Today was THE busiest day I have had so far on my externship. Bar none. Every chair in the waiting room had a person in it and more than a few times every exam room had a patient in it waiting for something -- the doctor, labs, x-Rays, or EKG's. It was nuts!

I performed a chest x-Ray by myself today and boy was that an awesome feeling. I also performed a knee x-Ray -- with a little assistance from another MA.

Today a very sad realization smacked me hard in the face.

I had the honor of taking a particular patient completely through her visit to our office. From calling her out of the waiting room, through intake and vital signs, EKG, and chest x-Ray.

After calling her name from the waiting room door, I watched her husband stand up and help her to her feet. Taking her hand, they slowly crossed the waiting room floor to where I stood and that's when I noticed how frail her face and hands were.

I could not see much else of her because her head was covered with a very festive red-colored cap and her body covered with a heavy winter coat. When she looked up at me and smiled I noticed she was wearing bright red lipstick and mascara, too. I let her take my hand with her free one and her husband and I led her down the hall to the scale.

I had already looked in her chart and made a mental note of her age (80-something), height (155 cm) and previous weight, something I do with every patient, and in the dictation notes from her last visit in September there was a very prominent note stating she had gained a whopping 9 pounds and, on that day, she tipped the scale at 98 pounds.

As her husband and I helped her out of her heavy coat and onto the scale, I was almost afraid to look to see how little she weighed. Hearing their excited voices about her having gained two ounces -- the scale showed 91.2 pounds -- I became a little confused. After hearing that she weighed 91 pounds in a different physician's office the week before I began celebrating with them.

Having settled the patient in the chair in the exam room I began asking her and her husband standard questions like "what brought you in today?".

She stated she was having difficulty breathing -- which was clearly visible to me -- and when I sat down near her to obtain her blood pressure and pulse, I could also hear a whistling sound as she breathed. The patient also stated that she was having very terrible dreams and that they were waking her up at night. She stated that they felt very real to her and that they scare her badly. (This information was noted in her chart.)

When I finished with the interview I let them know that the doctor would be in shortly to see them.

A short while later I was making my normal rounds and checking the chart holders on each of the rooms to see if any lab work needed to be done when I noticed a request in the chart holder for this patient.

I knocked softly on the door and poked my head in to let them know I would be back in a few minutes to do an EKG and a chest x-Ray on her. The patient was sitting up on the exam table and I let her know she was perfect where she was and gave her and her husband instructions on removing clothing and donning a paper gown.

A few minutes later I was back at her door and I listened for a moment before knocking to determine which state of dress she was in but I could not tell so I knocked softly on the door again and was asked to enter.

Her husband had given a valiant effort in trying to remove the sweatshirt his wife was wearing but it was clear he needed a little help. She had removed her festive hat and I noticed how very little hair she had because it was sticking up every which way.

Her long, thin arms were each tangled in their respective sleeves and it appeared they were having difficulty getting the shirt over her head, too. She looked up at me with her big, bright blue eyes and my heart melted into my shoes. Her husband explained to me that she had had a stroke a few years ago and around the same time was diagnosed with Parkinson Disease.

I took a moment to assess the situation then quickly began running solutions through my head on how best to accomplish this task without hurting her. My solution was to undress her as you would a newborn.

Laying the gown across her lap, I was able to untangle and free her arms from the sleeves of the sweatshirt. The neck on the sweatshirt, however, wasn't as forgiving. I helped her slip her arms into the gown before I began working the shirt over her head. As I was concentrating on not pulling her hair she giggled that she hadn't had a problem getting it over her head earlier in the day!

I continued talking to the patient and her husband as I input information into the EKG machine. While she was still sitting upright I placed the pads on her chest. After slowly reclining the table so she was laying down I placed a pillow under her head and began connecting the leads to the pads. Once the test was complete, the EKG printed, leads and pads removed it was off to x-Ray.

Two views later we were back in her exam room and I helped her dress again. After the doctor gave the "all clear" I helped her husband escort her back to the front desk to check out.

A little while later I was standing in the lab area when it hit me. One of "my" patients was going to die.

Not in the "everybody dies someday" way, but in the absolutely, without a doubt, too soon, kind of way.

Today I was blessed to have had this very beautiful woman and her husband cross my crazy-busy path today.

My heart is full.

Reflections and Thanksgiving

2008-11-28T02:23:00.004-05:00

Today was pretty low-key. We ordered a Thanksgiving feast from our favorite restaurant and, as usual, it was very delicious. Jake was invited to his one sister's house for Thanksgiving dinner with his mom and other sister so it was just Henry, Matthew, Hunter and I having our own little celebration. If you could call it that. The food was excellent and with the exception of Matthew and I talking about our externships, and encouraging Hunter to eat, it, well, sucked.

In my fluttering about the house today I stumbled upon a few items that were acquired during very painful events in the lives of my family.

As I was putting fresh linens away in the closet in the upstairs hallway, I saw a couple of Crainium games I had purchased when Hunter was in various residential treatment facilities. Our visiting time was usually limited so I selected activities/games that would give our family the most interaction with Hunter, yet hold his attention for longer than two minutes.

Shortly before that, as I was folding laundry in the basement, I suddenly found one of Hunter's socks -- from that same period of time. How do I know this? First, the size of the sock (small). Second, because his name was written on it with a laundry marker. Every now and then I will come across one of his t-shirts with a personalized label ironed on it.

Today I was asked by someone if I was happy with my life. It didn't come as a surprise to that person when I replied that I have never been happy with my life. That person is not happy with their life either but doesn't know why and, therefore, doesn't know what to do to fix it.

A few weeks ago a SIM card I thought I lost several months ago, mysteriously appeared and ruffled a lot feathers. It's truly amazing what a woman can find when she dumps her purse upside down and turns it inside out, isn't it? I was so focused on organizing my purse and its contents that I didn't even notice the tiny card laying on the living room floor until someone else pointed it out to me.

When the card was placed in my hand I seriously felt like an actor in a movie that gets quickly sucked back in time; arms and legs outstretched in front of me. I remember being asked questions but I was too dumbfounded to even open my mouth. Of course that seemed like I was hiding something when I truly wasn't. I knew both the card and its hardware were empty. When an attempt was made to take the card from me I refused. While I sat quietly on the sofa, I tried to ignore the hunt to find the hardware.

As I waited for the loud treasure hunt to come to an end, I set the card down nearby and walked away from it. I knew when I returned the card would be gone, and it was. Later on I found myself in possession of both the card and the hardware.

Its reappearance also made me enormously sad because of what it meant to me at one time. What it stood for. Why it came to exist in the first place. I am the only one who understands the significance of it and, to the dismay of others, I have zero regrets.

Many things happened during 2008 that royally sucked. For awhile I thought 2008 was going to give 2007 a run for its money and become the suckiest year ever. Right now they're running neck-and-neck and it very well could be a photo finish.

Externship - Week 3 Completed

2008-11-28T01:56:00.006-05:00

"Paul Bunyan" returned last week for a follow-up visit. I knew one of the other MAs was working with him but I couldn't resist the urge to poke my head inside the exam room (the door was ajar) to ask him how he was doing.

When I tracked down other MA she was assembling paperwork and supplies in preparation of drawing more of his blood. She already knew about my first encounter with "Paul" and laughed when I picked up the tubes and needles.

As I walked away from her I told her I just wanted to have some fun with him. I could still hear her laughing as I glided into "Paul's" exam room and told him I would be drawing his blood again.

Now, I like to think I am pretty adept at deciphering a variety of facial expressions, but his had me completely stumped. Venturing a guess, I would have to say it was definitely a cross between "You've GOT to be joking!" and "God help me!" and pure terror.

I could still hear the other MA laughing, which started me laughing so I quickly confessed that I was only teasing him and the other MA would be drawing his blood. Imagine my surprise when he said "You can do it if you want to. It's okay." After going back and forth a few times with him, and assuring him that I would try ONLY once, I relented and set to work.

Well, it wasn't so much relenting as it was conquering a challenge. I tried, and failed, three times before and I refused to give up!

After applying the tourniquet several times in various locations, I took my time in surveying both arms (and both hands) for the best vein to use. Finally I located a vein that, although it was not visible through his skin, plumped up nicely when the tourniquet was applied and he made a fist. The first time I drew blood from "Paul" I used the smallest needle we have (called a "Butterfly"). This time I went for the standard needle -- along with high hopes that I would be successful.

I failed. Again. For the FOURTH time.

The other MA failed, too. Which, in a way, kind of vindicates me. "Paul" will have to return to our office again soon so we can poke him again. This time neither I nor the other MA will be doing it!

Externship - Week 2 Completed

2008-11-22T12:17:00.006-05:00

Overall the second week went very well. I felt much more at ease in the office environment and the various procedures seemed to flow more easily for me.

On Thursday I assisted another MA in irrigating both ears of impacted wax on an adult patient with Down Syndrome.

The patient was seated in a chair and his mom was seated nearby as we set to work on restoring the patients hearing. First, the other MA instilled several drops of liquid to help soften the impacted ear wax. After putting a few drops on two pieces of cotton and gently inserting them in each ear we left the room to allow the drops to do their job.

When we returned, the mom giggled nervously as we set up the instruments and supplies that although she had noticed his diminished hearing, she didn't realize how bad his ears were clogged until the doctor pointed it out to her. Mom also indicated that this is something that frequently happens to her son and that she uses special drops at home in order to prevent it.

She decided at the conclusion of the irrigation that instead of using the drops every other month she would be using them much more frequently.

Because this was something new for me the other MA actually performed the procedure.

After draping the patient in blue pads to prevent him from getting wet, I knelt on the floor in front him and held the emesis basin under his right ear to catch the water and other materials as they exited his ear.

This also put me in the perfect position to talk to him, assist him in sitting up straight and not tilting his head forward.

Hint: when performing this procedure on a patient, continuously request him to keep their eyes open. This prevents the feeling of motion sickness.

***** WARNING ***** WARNING *****
You may want to skip the next part
if you have a weak stomach!

Irrigating his right ear seemed rather easy at first. The ear drops had worked well and it didn't take much irrigation to dislodge what looked like a brown marble, only smaller. Apparently the other MA had not seen something of this size either and couldn't help but say so.

After peering in his ear to assess the progress we realized there was still quite a bit more earwax to remove and began irrigation again.

The earwax wouldn't budge so we switched to the other (left) ear, which proved to be even more difficult. After many minutes and lots of water, we were able to dislodge the earwax in large pieces and in the end removed all of it.

We returned to the right ear but were not able to clear it entirely and after cleaning up we let the doctor know. It turned out that the patient had a nasty ear infection and the doctor prescribed antibiotics for him.

***** END OF WARNING *****

Thursday afternoon, an in-home caregiver brought one of our patients in because she was not feeling well. The patient had been running a fever on and off for a day or so an had become very lethargic.

The in-home caregiver had just started her shift for the day and was frustrated that the other staff did not notice how sick the patient was. So sick, in fact, that medication (a pill) the patient had been given at breakfast, was still dissolving in her mouth in the middle of the afternoon. Meaning it was highly doubtful the patient had been given anything to drink all day.

Our office had the patient transported to the hospital via ambulance.

Friday I worked with a patient who is mentally impaired and extremely sweet. When I explained to him and his caregiver that I needed to draw his blood, poke his finger, do an EKG and an x-Ray he asked me if I had enough practice drawing blood because the previous person who drew it was "incompetent". I assured him I had plenty of practice and that after I was finished I would tell him a very funny story.

I have become quite attached to using butterfly needles almost exclusively when drawing blood from my patients so his blood draw went perfectly and he was quite thrilled to find out I was not incompetent. After I finished drawing his blood and poking his finger I told him I was a student Medical Assistant and he thought that was enormously funny and wanted to know if I was being serious. When I told him I was very serious he laughed even louder and thought that I did a great job!

What I learned this week: some people are perfectly content to create their own drama and not change their way of thinking, or change the way they do things in order to make the world a better place to be.

Externship - Week 2/Day 2

2008-11-22T11:34:00.003-05:00

After calling this particular patient (6' 4" tall, 50ish-year-old man), measuring his height, weight and BMI and escorting him to an examination room and closing the door, things became a little interesting.

As is routine for our particular office I asked the patient to sit in the chair with his feet flat on the floor then asked him the reason for his visit. He stated he had been suffering from a cold for a few days but today started feeling dizzy and lightheaded. (The exam rooms become hot and stuffy very quickly so I opened the door.)

It was at that point that I had a good look at his face and, as a mother, I could tell he was not feeling well at all. After measuring his blood pressure and pulse (both WNL) I explained to him that I would let the doctor know he was waiting for him.

I found the doctor quickly and explained the patient's symptoms to him and he asked me to measure his blood pressure laying down and then again standing up.

I returned to the patient's room and explained to him what I would be doing next and helped him onto the exam table. After helping him to lie down on the table I took a step backwards to grab the blood pressure machine -- but never made it that far. Sounding slightly panicked, the patient tells me he is going to throw up.

Sure enough, he does. In the sink (thank goodness!). For several awful (for him) minutes this big man is throwing up in the sink and in between chunks he is apologizing profusely to me! I stayed right next to him with my hand on his back reassuring him that if he was going to be sick, this was the place to do it.

When his active vomiting started spacing a little further out I asked him if he felt steady on his feet. He assured me he was so I left the room to summon the doctor. The patient stated to the doctor that he was feeling much better and felt able to drive himself home.

As I escorted him to the front desk to check out he was still apologizing to me for throwing up in the sink.

After the patient left I returned to the room and disinfected everything in the room -- even though he had only thrown up in the sink.

On a lighter note, a husband/wife I took care of last week returned to our office today and remembered me! By name!

Externship - Week 1

2008-11-22T11:25:00.009-05:00

The first three days of my internship have been absolutely amazing! It has been "sink or swim" (with guidance of course!) since Day 1.

I am in an office with 9 physicians and 3 other Medical Assistants. We have 13 exam rooms, one Respiratory Therapy room and X-Ray (digital).
Except for one lab test, the HgB-A1C, and X-Rays, everything else is sent out. Including urine.

Lab orders are entered into a computer and to do that you need to know not only the diagnosis code but also the "order code". After entering the patient information and the various codes we print however many labels needed for all the tubes, as well as for the bag we put it all in to send out. We also print a sheet with barcodes to insert in the bag.

Each physician has been assigned a "color" (purple, brown, etc.) and a block of exam rooms for their use.

(Thank goodness not every physician is in the office at the same time!)

Memorable moments thus far:

Day 1: I received an order to administer a B12 shot to a very sweet elderly patient. I walked into his room and closed the door and let him know what I would be doing. Without skipping a beat, he stood up from the chair, dropped trou and leaned over the table. In between the giggles in my head I remember thinking "OH MY!" On his way to check out I passed him in the hall and he thanked me with a kiss on my cheek.

Later in the day I noticed a female patient exiting an exam room. She looked confused and wobbly on her feet so I assisted her to the front desk to check out. I stood close to her as she checked out then I escorted her to her car. When I returned to the office the Office Manager thanked me for helping the patient and that it was very nice of me to do so.

Day 2: I needed to draw blood from the equivalent of Paul Bunyon. Sassy me walked into the room and as I was setting up jokingly mentioned that this was my first time drawing blood. He actually laughed out loud at that. He stopped laughing right around the time I poked him a second time. I swear I saw a vein pop out on his forehead exclaiming "WTF?!?!" as I poked him a THIRD time. I told him I jinxed myself by telling him I had never drawn blood before and he honestly laughed out loud and hard at that.

First, I have to say, this dude was b-i-g. His skin was thick and the solid muscle underneath it made it enormously difficult to poke. Trust me, lesson learned!

Day 3: I walked into the office this morning and the first thing I discovered was there would be only 2 medical assistants today. Me, the newb, and the senior MA. I swear we drew blood and collected urine on every single patient we treated today!

One of my favorite patients today is a beautifully sweet 90-year-old woman in a wheelchair. She has the most amazing blue/white eyes I have ever seen.

I had orders to administer a flu shot to her. Now before I continue, you should envision in your head the diameter of a soda can. Ummm...yeah. Her arm was LESS than that in size. We typically use a shorter needle instead of the brutal IM one. Of course today we had none (shipment arrived late this afternoon) so I was forced to use the IM monster. Yep - I was freaking (inside) a LOT.

Although I knew how to handle the situation, I consulted with the other medical assistant anyway. We agreed that I should not insert the needle all the way in. (DUH!)

As many of my classmates can attest, the best way to give any type of shot is throwing-dart-fast because it's much less painful. I would not be able to do this with my patient and that made me sad because not only does she next to no muscle in her arms, her skin is like tissue paper.

After I drew up the flu shot, I returned to the room and explained to her (and her daughter) what I would be doing. Just my luck she would look at me with those way cool eyes and my heart melted into my shoes.

I swabbed her arm and prayed while the alcohol dried. I slowly inserted the needle a little more than 1/4" -- and softly touched her bone. It was all I could do to not visibly shiver. She didn't even flinch.

After the flu shot I had to draw two tubes of blood and used her hand with a butterfly needle.

The daughter thanked me profusely for taking such care of her mother and told me she wished other nurses were more like me. I gave her a big smile and thanked her in return.

My second favorite patient today was another elderly woman in her 80's and in a wheelchair (and her daughter). I had to draw blood and administer a flu shot -- with the last "small" needle we had. Her skin is also like tissue paper and the veins in her arm were barely visible so I chose to draw from her hand with a butterfly needle. The veins in her hand are very prominent so it didn't take long to fill two tubes.

As mother and daughter were preparing to leave, the daughter stepped out of the room and told me how much her mother loved me and the careful attention I paid to her while poking her. She went on to say that it is very rare for them to deal with such warm and friendly people and they really appreciated it. I beamed and thanked her for the opportunity for helping her mother.

Not everything has gone right, though. Today I drew a husband and wife and inadvertently used the wrong tubes to do so. Instead of the serum-separator tube (tiger top) I used an orange top. Because we were so overpowered today the blood in each tube clotted before I could get it transferred into the correct tube to send to the lab.

What's worse is that when drawing the wife (hand and butterfly) her vein stopped co-operating and she wouldn't let me poke her again to complete the draw. Worse still is that I drew from her left-hand (which is her dominant hand).

The final kick in my pants was that SHE has to drive because her husband can't hear.

I love opening the door to call a patient back and observing the looks on their faces before I call their name. Especially because I'm always smiling. When I call out a name and they look in my direction, their faces instantly light up.

Stay tuned for the next segment of "Carrie's Externship".

Snowboarding!

2008-11-22T03:17:00.001-05:00

Yup! The 2008-09 season has begun!

Today Henry, Jake, Ed (Jake's friend), Hunter and I kicked off the season at one of our favorite hills.

Man did it feel awesome to strap the board on and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine!

Had it not been for a young punk having no control over his 'board, I would have made it through the day without falling on my butt. As I looked over my left shoulder and moved in the same direction, I caught the kid out of the corner of my eye just before his 'board slid across the top of mine, between my legs, and his momentum propelled both of us into the air, then flat on our backs.

Neither of us liked the position we were in but the young'un was so freaked out he immediately began to extricate himself, which twisted the lower half of my body as though it wasn't connected heartily to the top half. I finally managed to get him to stop and in a couple of movements I had us separated from each other with my body fully intact.

We're Getting Pinned!

2008-10-22T22:31:00.005-04:00

A Medical Assistant pinning ceremony marking the conclusion of our classroom education will be held for Matthew and me on Wednesday, November 5, 2008.

On Monday, November 10th, I will begin my required 180 hour internship at a large multi-physician medical facility that sees 60-80 adult patients per day. (Matthew's internship site has been selected but not yet confirmed.)

At the successful conclusion of our internships, Matthew and I will receive certificates officially graduating us from the program.

In January 2009 I will sit for a certification exam that will allow me to include the credentials "CMA" (Certified Medical Assistant) after my name. (The certificate we receive at the end of the program is more like a diploma because it just means we successfully completed it.)

So, yeah, I'm totally GEEEEEEKED!

Here It Is

2008-10-10T20:23:00.014-04:00

I knew it would happen sooner or later and as much as I wanted it to happen sooner, I am now wishing it was later.

Matthew and I were texting each other a short while ago. I finally got a few things off my chest about how I felt like he had taken advantage of Henry's and my generosity while he was living here.

I told him that from where I stood, he looked like an ungrateful, self-centered, selfish young man. I also told him I thought he was a jerk (seriously!) for the way he treated me when he was here and for the things he said about me to his friends -- that made their way back around to me.

I'm not sure which disrespectful comment he made about me is worse; that he thinks I'm a "douche bag" or that he "absolutely despises" and "hates" me.

I know -- it's not really much of a toss-up. Hearing how much Matthew "hates" and "despises" me cut through the marrow of my bones.

In the course of our texting I began to see Matthew a little (but not much) more clearly because he actually told me how he felt. Which he's never been able to do. I think that's what has me so shook up is that not only do I completely understand how he is feeling, but the fact that the reason I do understand is because I have felt the very same way.

Although he may not comprehend it right now, I told him that he and I were much more alike than he even realizes.

The text messages that hit me the hardest were (note: these are verbatim):

"No > ya raised to look out for myself and no one else > take care of me mom you don't understand how it is to not grow up with your parents ok i love you > wanted to have you and my dad i love you both and i only had one of you do you know what that is like i think highly of you but you guys just don't understand how i feel about anything"

"I don't know how to talk about it it is hard for me to express my feelings in words its like a deep empty whole in my chest and a feeling of being completely and utterly alone"

My response to Matthew, to the second message, was this:

"Matthew, I have that same big, empty hole in my chest...and it's been there since the day I let you and Connor go...14 years now I have lived with it...Matthew, the enormous pain of that decision has almost, literally, killed me...a few times...Believe it or not, you and I are more similar than you realize..."

The overwhelming pain I feel in my heart typing -- and re-reading -- these messages has sucked the air out of my lungs and I feel like I am suffocating all over again...if only I could disappear into the shadows...

VNS and Stuff

2008-09-26T22:08:00.020-04:00

As part of having the Vagus Nerve Stimulator (VNS) implanted, I am being followed for five years (until 2012) by Columbia University so they can chart my progress. Or lack thereof (my opinion, not theirs).

Today was an update day and it was rough. They are always rough. The woman from CU is awesome and I do not mind talking to her at all. It's the questions she needs to ask that are difficult to answer -- and they are always the same questions. Many times I have thought about being dishonest and telling her that everything is just fine in my little universe, but I know that doing so is hurting not only myself, but other people who may turn to this device as a last resort like I did.

I knew this update would be rough so I dodged her calls for the last few weeks because I just was not ready to let that wall down again and let her come in. See, nobody else -- with the exception of my psychiatrist -- asks me questions like "have you felt suicidal?" or "how would you rate the quality of your life?".

Every time she asks me the first question in particular, my first thought is always to tell her "no, I haven't felt suicidal in the last week".

But the truth is, I feel suicidal every single day. I just want to fall asleep and never wake up. Today I explained that to her and that I just wanted the noise in my head to stop, the guilt, the grief, the anguish...just to STOP all of it. The dichotomy is that I function. Very well, in fact. I wake up every morning, put two feet on the floor and shift into auto-pilot. Is this what living your life is supposed to be like?!?

In answer to her second question, about the quality of my life, I always tell her it's good. Because it really is. I have great kids, the most amazing husband, and I'm finally making a life-long career dream come true. What's not good about all of that? Why then do I always question myself, trying to figure out what I'm missing or figure out what I'm doing wrong? Do other people feel this way? Certainly I am not the only person...?

Most of the time I feel like I'm a fraud. On the exterior I'm vibrant, personable, friendly, intelligent, funny, engaging, approachable, helpful...and on the inside I am colorless and lifeless.

If I could hide in the shadows -- and stay there -- in a heartbeat, I would. Lately I envision myself walking into the shadows, and feeling peace as the cloak envelopes me completely...instead, I am barely walking a tightrope across the Grand Canyon. And letting myself fall into the depths is becoming more and more appealing...take me...

Happy Birthday, Alexander...

2008-09-13T10:08:00.000-04:00

I have been so overwhelmed with grief this past week that I have been frightened of sitting down to pour out all the emotions I am drowning in. I am not frightened of the emotions themselves, but rather of my physical reaction in looking at them straight on. I am so deluged with emotions and the astonishing power behind them that I am firmly rooted in this place – trying to determine which is worse; yielding to them, or continuing to squash them down until I finally suffocate.

Sorrow appears to be the emotion I feel most often. Sometimes I think I understand it and other times I can only shake my head in confusion.

I realize that losing someone you love is devastating, but the shadows that follow you around and blanket your heart forever after can be equally, if not worse. Occasionally we are forewarned – by illness or age – and see the loss coming. Other times it comes at us like a stealth fighter jet and we haven’t the opportunity to react and get the hell out of the way before it decimates us. The infinite questions that follow that type of annihilation will forever remain unanswered.

Even now, 13 years after Alexander’s birth and death, I think about all of the “would-a, could-a, should-as”. The “if only-s” drive me crazy, too.

Somebody told me once that I am living my present life too much in my past. For awhile, that bothered me because I didn’t understand what that meant. (I still don’t, really.) Then I realized that if feeling emotions infinitely deeper than some people means I’m living too much in my past, then there is very little I can do. I am an intensely passionate person and when I love someone, it is with every iota of my being. Oddly enough, I don’t wear my ardor on the outside of my body so it is very often missed – or misread.

The day Alexander was born was an extraordinarily beautiful fall day. The sky was an exceptionally intense blue. The sun was high and not a cloud stood in its way. The fall colors came early that year, too, so the road home from where my son lay was surrounded by multicolored foliage. Even now it doesn’t make sense to me how I endured the worst loss of my life that day, but the world continued to turn.

Please, stop the world and let me step off…I surrender...

Dayna and Haleigha Kelis

2008-07-05T07:46:00.023-04:00

For the past several months I have had an opportunity to get reacquainted with my very first niece, Dayna, and it has made a huge difference in my life.

Dayna was born 10 days before my 18th birthday (in 1985) and I fell in love with her immediately. My sister, Dayna's mother, is 14 months younger than I am and we have always had a somewhat tempestuous relationship.

Most of the time I have had to keep my distance from my sister in an effort to maintain my own sanity and, because of that, there have been great periods of time where I have not seen Dayna or her siblings Jessica (18) and Jason (15) in order to establish and maintain relationships with each of them.

I don't recall the circumstances at the time but Dayna reached out to me and since then we have become amazingly close.

My sister, Penny, was 16 years old when Dayna was born more than 23 years ago. My hope back then was to do everything I could to become a substantial role-model for Dayna as she grew up and to be a consistent presence in her life. That worked well for about the first three or four years of Dayna's life and we spent a lot of time together. She kind of became my sidekick.

When I became pregnant with my first son, Matthew, in late 1988 my focus naturally shifted to raising my son and working nights to keep a roof over our heads. Although Dayna and I were still able to spend time together, it was not as much as before because my relationship with her mother was disintegrating (again) and we began drifting apart.

I won't bore you with all the details in between then and now because that's not the purpose of this post. The purpose of this post is to tell you what a phenomenal woman my niece is. She's beautiful, smart, funny and, now, the most incredible mommy I know. The most incredible "single" mommy I know, too.

On January 29, 2008 Dayna brought itty-bitty Haleigha Kelis into this world and because I was standing outside the delivery room doors, I got to hear her very first cries.

Because Dayna had had to have a cesarean section she was given a very brief introduction to her daughter before they took her to the nursery to clean her up while the doctor's finished up with her.

I was standing near Dayna in the recovery room when they brought Haleigha to her and was able to see the look on Dayna's face when they placed Haleigha in her arms.

My sister quietly said to her daughter "You're in love aren't you?" Dayna was so overwhelmed with awe that all she could manage was a nod of her head as she stared down at her perfectly tiny baby girl in her arms.

So, getting to know my "adult" niece Dayna and watching her raise her amazing daughter these past few months has been really, really good for my soul.

Thanks, 'nayners, for reaching out to me all those months ago and for allowing Uncle Henry and me to spoil you and Haleigha positively rotten!

I love you both!

P.S. Haleigha means "house of the rising sun" and Kelis means "beautiful".

I'm Frustrated

2008-06-13T21:09:00.005-04:00

I'm frustrated. I'm frustrated. I'm frustrated.

Did I mention I am frustrated? Mmmmmkay...

I am so tired in seeing the world in shades of gray. I am tired of being so tired all the time. I saw my doc last week and he added another med to my regimen, Lithium, which I have been on before. Trouble is that after having ECT's I cannot remember whether it worked or not so I haven't filled the prescription yet.

Sigh.

The only side effects I remember having from it are hand tremors, severe dry mouth and being more sensitive to the sun than I usually am. Having fair skin and a boat it is already difficult enough to stay out of the sun. Adding Lithium to my body will make it worse because it will take less exposure to the sun to fry my Casper-white skin. (Yes, I use sunscreen -- and I still burn.)

I tell myself every night as I'm falling asleep that tomorrow is a new day and when I awaken I will see the world in 120 Crayola Colors. When I open my eyes on the new day, I'm sadly disappointed.

The doc also adjusted my VNS a little so now instead of feeling like I'm being choked when it activates every three minutes, I have that awful feeling you get right before coming down with the worst sore throat of your life. Except it only lasts for 30 seconds.

Henry has complimented me a few times over the past six weeks or so about how I am better at handling my mood swings; that I am better able to keep my moods from escalating into a full-on BZ. I actually complimented myself on the same thing, except tonight it finally occurred to me that I really have no control at all. I just stuff it as far down my throat as I can and I clamp my mouth shut. Then I try to hide. Except I feel that hiding has not been an available option since May 1st.

Ending my life is always on my mind. It's never been about being dead so much as it is to have complete and total silence in my brain. I just want the world to stop so the millions of people like me can catch their breath and figure out what to do next without resorting to killing themselves.

What a concept.

Students -- Again!

2008-05-19T10:25:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-14T09:40:00.001-04:00

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

2008-05-13T09:45:00.001-04:00

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

2008-05-13T01:34:00.009-04:00

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

2008-05-06T10:09:00.005-04:00

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?

2008-05-02T22:16:00.001-04:00

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

2008-05-01T10:46:00.002-04:00

Annie's Song, Too

2008-05-01T09:48:00.015-04:00

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)