The Brave One

Yeah, he’s still coming, just a little bit late
He got stuck at the laundromat washing his cape”  ~Waiting for Superman, Daughtry

     I have been reading my old posts and I am taken aback by how helpless, weak, and, well, whiny I was. Don't get me wrong, I had plenty of reasons, I just never wanted to end up that way. Thankfully, I didn't. Throughout all of those posts was a recurring theme, "Someone please save me!"  I was waiting for Superman, he never came, but I am on my way to a "helluva life" anyway.

     Confession time, and this is very difficult. I will always have a reminder of how I had felt about myself throughout my whole life just by looking down. After clawing and fighting, scraped knuckles and bruised knees (metaphorically) I was tired, sick, and honestly just DONE! After a particularly rough patch in life I went down that same old familiar path of self-hatred and loathing. I went into the bathroom, which has always been my "safe" place and slammed my head into the floor over and over.  When that didn't make me feel better I punched myself several times then slammed my hand in the bathroom door. Nope, that storm inside of me was still raging!! I took my tweezers with the sharp pointy ends and carved the words "weak bitch" into my leg. Big, for all the world to see. Now that is a scarlet letter, so to speak, marking me forever. Afterwards, I took a large amount of pills and passed out on the bathroom floor.  I believe during those hours on the floor a war was raging inside of me. It was do or die time. (literally).  I got the help I needed. I had a brief "break" with 42 other women, very much like me,  in a hospital. My diagnosis is PTSD.   I realized Superman wasn't coming. He doesn't exist. I had to save myself. I left the facility motivated and eager to begin the work to rebuild, no that's wrong, restructure, my life. I say this because my past will always be there like a long shadow in the late afternoon sun. Forgetting and ignoring it had brought me to that place after all, so after 47 years I decided to find out who Roberta is.  

      As I walked out of that building I thought, "I'll have my shit together by Christmas." WRONG!  This will never leave me. I can look back at my life and see shackles and barbed wire or I can see a blurry picture of the girl I used to be.  What happened to me did not break me and will not define me. You see, I am not a "weak bitch."  I am one of the brave ones. The scrappers, the fighters, the survivors.  I have learned a few things since July 11.  No one will lay a hand on me ever again. If they do I will fight back!!  I will never stuff down and ignore my feelings, for they come back, always lurking and haunting, and eventually must be dealt with. Even 20, 30 or 40 years later.  I can, and do set my boundaries. It's ok to say it's not ok!!   I have also discovered I am a bitch to be reckoned with.  There is a storm inside me alright, but I am no longer afraid of storms. Bring it on. Winds can rage, rain can come down in torrents, thunder and lightening can shake and scream.  I will stand, exhausted from fighting the winds, hair crazy curly and frizzy from the rain,  but standing.

     So many people are out there Waiting for Superman.  Not moving forward, not moving back, just stuck, waiting. I want to scream "MOVE YOUR LEGS" but they can't hear. Their storm is too loud in their heads.  My hope is they find their way. For those of us with mental disorders life is a never ending prize fight.  One bell to the next, fighting and dodging, refusing to get knocked out. I can be trained. I can be in fighting shape and have my game face on but the bell will always ring. That's ok. I don't need Superman to help me fight.  I saved myself. 

     So, when I look down and see my forever scar on my leg, I will see it as a war wound. A visible scar representing all of the invisible ones inside of me. I considered covering it with a tattoo, but I won't, it will remain there to remind me who saved me in the end. I am not a Superhero, but yet I still fight, day in and day out.  I have a lot more self-saving to do, and I'm looking forward to the challenge!

“Superheroes were born in the minds of people desperate to be rescued.

Jodi Picoult, The Tenth Circle
       

Clear Eyes Full Heart

Clear Eyes, Full Heart, Can't Lose.   -Peter Berg (Friday Night Lights)
      Being a huge sports fan I love this quote as it relates to football, or sports in general. My son and I watched the movie "Friday Night Lights" last weekend and the actual quote by Billy Bob Thorton's character was "Clear Eyes and a heart full of love" Peter Berg adapted it for the television series. It really got my mind going. 
      As I read through all my previous blog posts, I was saddened, shocked and a little ashamed. Wow, how I spiraled to such an incredibly dark place. It was a cold, lonely and desolate place, occupied only by my thoughts and my opinions of myself. As those around me continued to love and care for me, I fell farther and deeper looking for someone to save me. My Hero on his (or her) white horse never arrived. You see, no one could save me, I had to save myself. The moment I accepted as a fact was the day my eyes began to clear.
      Of course, the long, exhausting climb was not done alone. In fact, it's not over. I have an enclave of people cheering, encouraging, even reprimanding me along the way. My first step was finding help, a coach, so to speak. My coach is a clinical psychiatrist named Eleanor Kulis. I think of her as Dr. Phil with breasts. She takes no crap and allows no excuses, but will allow me to get to the center of an issue rather than rushing me to it herself. Next month will be a year I have been seeing her and I don't recognize the woman that sat in her office that day barely able to speak through the sobs. She patiently waited through the weeks of tears, self pity and guilt. As the weeks and months passes, I used less tissue, said "If only I...." less, and we gradually found a common ground.
      Needless to say, medication is involved. When your depression is so severe, you think of taking your life, and your anxiety is so intense that you can't leave your house for fear of a public panic attack and humiliation. It does not make me proud to say I need medication to function, but I am no longer ashamed to say it either. It does it's job (most days) and through some exercises of meditation, breathing, and affirmations, I can usually stave off an attack.
      Through everything I have my support system, my offensive line, let's say. My husband, my boys, my sisters, my friends. One of my main issues with myself has always been what my illnesses have put my family through. My 2 youngest sons were only in high school when I got diagnosed with cancer, but I was depressed long before that. Also, I have lived with Chronic Migraine headaches for 18 years as well. I was overwhelmed by guilt. I felt as though my heart literally broke in two the first time my boys witnessed me having a panic attack. But now, through clear eyes I know that it didn't harm them, if anything, they have gained compassion, a sense of responsibility, and most of all a closeness as a family. I feel so safe with them. When I say safe I do not mean purely physically, I mean emotionally. Feeling emotionally unsafe is worse than physically unsafe. Physical scars heal much quicker than emotional ones.
      On a recent trip to the cemetery where my mother and father are laid to rest I said so many things to my mother than had been held in and pent up in a cage down in the dark prison in which I had been residing. I had to say them to get them out to make room for love, peace, serenity, a sense of calm and self worth. I am not saying all of my troubles are my mother's fault, how cliche would that be? No, but losing my mother at 8 years old, and never really knowing her at all had a major impact in my life. I don't want to get into that, maybe another day, or maybe that will be something that is just for me, but the point is I had to let go so my heart had room for other things.
     So my eyes are clearing, and my heart is emptying of sadness, fear and grief and filling back up with peace, love, calmness, and even every so often HAPPINESS! I find myself singing, dancing smiling, and even once in a while laughing. I also know real joy now. Real joy is my Granddaughter's smile and my Grandson's eyes full of nothing but love. He told me yesterday I was the best person he knows. Those are big shoes to fill, but I will do my best because he deserves it. As does his sister, my sons, my husband, my family and my real dear true friends. They all deserve it because they saw that in me when I felt like the worse person ANYONE could know, and they didn't give up on me. So with Clear Eyes and a Full Heart I will not lose. I will be the best person I know, because you know what, I deserve that too. 

I Don't want you to save me, I want you to stand by my side as I save myself.   -Unknown
      

Choices........

Still round the corner there may wait a new road or a secret gate.  J.R.R. Tolkien

     Choice: The RIGHT, POWER, or OPPORTUNITY to choose.
Choice. 6 letters, such a simple word. A simple word with  a very powerful meaning. A person makes choices so many times a day they can not even be counted. Will I get up the first time the alarm sounds, what will I eat for breakfast, what will I wear, which way shall I take to work, do I need an umbrella, should I buy lunch or take lunch. You get the idea. But what about the choices that affect others. Will I be kind to that person that irritates the hell out of me. Will I smile at the rude cashier, will I tell and show my family how much I love them. Will I forgive that person that hurt me in the past. A million choices EVERY DAY!
     Now throw a few curve balls into someone's life such as illness, depression, anxiety, panic, fear. That is where the choices become overwhelming. Like monsters from nightmares. Oh God! What if I make the wrong choice and it has negative consequences. That is where things went wrong for me. So terrified of making choices in my mind I believed I stopped making them. Actually, the opposite happened. Instead of not making choices I was making an abundance of choices, but negative ones that not only impacted myself, but those that love me. Unknowingly, I would choose to allow my emotions run my life. I would choose to not get out of bed. I would choose to stay fearful and anxious and sad. I didn't realize I was making theses as choices, just that they were an unwelcome part of my new life.

     Through therapy I am learning that each moment, each thought, each emotion can be a choice. It is not easy, it is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. But I could take every pill and remedy on the market, and still be stuck in that dark, lonely, scary place, unless I choose to claw my own way out. Not only do my choices in regards to my emotions and self image affect me, but those around me and those that love me. They have watch as I have transformed from a confident, happy, capable women, to a nervous, crying, self-loathing hot mess! I know many emotional traumas and turmoils brought me to that place, and like any wound it takes time to heal. However, like any wound, we can CHOOSE to care for it, keep it clean, apply medication, not pick and scratch at it etc. This is what I am learning about my choices.

     I just came home from a week long hospital stay for a stress induced intractable migraine. For those of you that don't know I am a chronic migraine sufferer (more headache days per month than headache free days) for a very long time. Every once in a while a perfect storm will brew and circumstances will cause a migraine that takes hold and will not let go. So much pain, so much medicine, so much frustration. In the week I was there the doctors did all they could to control the pain and "break the cycle." It can be disheartening when  you have been in a hospital for a week and upon release you are told you may remain in pain for a week to 10 days until the meds you were given there and the ones you were sent home with get in your system and do their job.

     Now for my choices in regards to this situation, but first a little background on the one medication that really works to break the cycle. The dreaded Solu-Medrol! A wonderful steroid  which I was given 5 times in my IV at the hospital and will continue to take for the next 12 days. If you've never had the pleasure of experiencing this little gem, let me fill you in on some of the wonderful side effects. First, but not worst, it makes you bat crap crazy! I will cry one minute, yell the next, tremor, be jumpy and edgy. Of course then there are the hot flashes. Oh GOD the hot flashes! Last night I felt that I was trapped in a sauna with a million bees sting my face and ears causing them to be on fire! My heart will race, I will eventually get the lovely "moon face" and possibly gain anywhere from 5-15 lbs. Lastly, the insomnia and leg cramps as I am weaning off of them. Not ordinary leg cramps, but super duper ran a marathon without drinking any water leg cramps. Now comes my CHOICE. How to deal with all of this. First choice, take the meds with all the glorious side effects, or possibly remain in a constant migraine state. Last night I sat crying feeling sorry for myself thinking how unfair it all is. But then I made a CHOICE. I will take the steroids, I will accept the side effects, I will live, they will not kill me, they are just unpleasant. I will not allow my circumstances to set me back from the progress I had made in gaining my life back. I will be careful what I eat, and when strong enough in a few days to start walking again.

    I CHOOSE to fight. I CHOOSE to overcome my situation. I CHOOSE to let my mind rule, not my emotions. Thank you Dr Kulis for teaching me the power of that one little 6 letter word. I do not know what path my life is on, but it is a much different path than just a few weeks ago. I look forward to turning a corner, opening that secret gate and finding a beautiful peaceful place of my own. We all make choices. Will you make the right ones for you today?

Every passing minute is an opportunity to turn it all around.  Cameron Crowe

First steps.......

You yourself, as much as anybody else in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection. -Budda


     Therapy is intense. It is hard. You are forced to face things about your self or your past that are ugly, scary, shameful, humbling, ...... I could go on. It is also exhausting. Unless you are brutally honest and reveal things about yourself you wish could stay hidden forever, you cannot truly get better or move on. For me, yesterdays session was my hardest yet. I had to look at myself in the mirror (figuratively) and see (and admit) how far from emotionally healthy I really am, and face how long I have been this way. I guess as Oprah would call it, my psychiatrist and I had an "aha moment". Others would call it an epiphany.


     I am a very loved woman. My husband loves me more than you can imagine, and has always been there and done what is needed to get me through. Whether it be, hold my hand during medical tests, hold me when I cry, yell at me through a panic attack to "snap out of it" (yes, that really happened, and it worked!), make sure my needs are met, uses an endless supply of patience..... again I could go on and on. 
     My children love and respect me with a compassion and tenderness that most young men are incapable of. How all three of my sons turned out so amazing when their mother is the poster child for "hot mess" is beyond me, but I am thankful. 
     I have brothers and sisters though some separated by distance I know love me and would do anything for me. My two oldest sisters never judge, are always willing to listen and lend advice without being condescending. 
     I don't have many friends, but the ones that have stayed true are I trust with my heart, my secrets, my fears, and they have never betrayed that trust. We are able to tell each other "I love you" with no awkwardness at all.
     My point is, I am surrounded by people that love me and are fighting for me, but I have no love for myself, and feel so undeserving. Thank God, as I work on myself that these people have not given up on me as I have on myself. During the session yesterday my Dr.asked me to list 3 things I like about myself. I listed how loved I was, my great family, and my grandchildren. She quickly stopped me and told me to start over. Things about ME that I like. I could think of nothing. She thinks this is a problem lol!
     So, starting today, I need to learn to love myself, and learn to accept that I am deserving of love from those around me. I don't know where to start or how to even begin because looking back at my life, I can't think of one time I was ever truly happy with me. I know I have a lot to offer others, and there is good in me, but that is different. And I am not talking about physically. Those things do not define who I am. Whether I weigh 200 lbs or 110, or looked 20 years younger, had a perfect body, none of that matters. I need to get myself to the point that I know I am worthy of love, and the only way to achieve that is to love myself. So today I will think of one thing I like about myself, even if it takes all day. Tomorrow maybe I can come up with two. I want to prove to all of those that have stood by me and loved me through all storms and darkness that it was worth it. So, today I start over (again), and I look outside and it is beautiful, and I feel a peace inside. To my family and friends, thank you. I love you.


The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.

I am........

     I have spent the last 14 months trying to figure out who I am. Grieving and angry over what I've lost. I have seen the dark recesses of hell and fought my way through. I have had thoughts and made plans because the emotional pain and loss was too great to bear. I also fought my way through that. So who is Roberta today?

    I am a mother who misses her sons terribly everyday, but only wish them to be happy.
    I am a wife that loves my husband for 1000 reasons, but mostly because he stayed, no matter how difficult, and he loves me more today than ever before.
    I am a grandmother who's heart literally leaps in it's chest when I hold my grandchildren.
    I am a friend that has made mistakes, and caused hurt, but to those that stood by me, I love you and will remain loyal and grateful for the rest of my life. I will keep your secrets, hold you when you cry, protect you with my life and make you laugh when you need it most.
    I am a girl that loves pink, and purple and flowers and butterflies, beautifully hand-made items, as well as a baseball fan that yells and swears during Tigers games, takes it personally when they lose, can quote stats, and believes there is no better way to spend a Saturday than watching a game.
    I am a girl that crochets lovely things and loves to design and embellish, only to see the smile on someone's face when they see it. 
    I also am a girl that turns into a crazy, cussing, screaming, maniac from mid-August to the first week of February during football season. I love everything about the game. I love playing Fantasy Football, and I hate losing!
     I am a girl that loves God. I know that he has walked this walk with me, and it by his hand I am here today. But I am also a girl that accepts and respects all beliefs and religions.
     I am often  sad, scared, and anxious, and it's ok. I have excepted the events of the past 14 months, and am ready to move on, the events will always be in my heart, but not controlling my life.
     I am a girl that needs help to control her demons, and I have found it. I believe everyone has their own demons and choose to never judge someone again, as I have felt judged and unloved, and it is painful.
     I am a girl that still has bad days, and that's ok, too. The next day they are over, forgotten, and I move on.
     I believe a smile or a friendly word can make someone's day and always choose to say thank you, or have a nice day.
     I am a cancer survivor. While fighting the cancer was the easiest part of my journey, I am thankful for the disease, as it has saved my life. The diagnosis sent me on a journey of self-discovery and brought me to a place where I am happy with me. I am not perfect by world's standards. I am flawed, and my flaws are beautiful and they are mine.

I am me, and she is exactly who I want to be. You should take some time to get to know me (again), you may be pleasantly surprised!

     

The Girl in the Mirror

“Never let go of hope. One day you will see that it all has finally come together. What you have always wished for has finally come to be. You will look back and laugh at what has passed and you will ask yourself... 'How did I get through all of that?”


    There have been so many changes in my life this week. Jeffrey, my middle son, at 20 years old moved into an apartment with his girlfriend Sadie. Justin, my youngest son had his last day of high school, and lastly, it is official, I am no longer a cancer patient, I am a cancer survivor.
     While  at my therapy session this week, my doctor said "with all of these chapters ending, your life is an open book, where will you take your story next?" I liked that analogy. First of all I LOVE diving into a good book! There is nothing better than reading that first page and just knowing you must know how it ends! But mostly because she said "where will YOU take YOUR Story"  So many times I feel my life is completely out of my control. Especially these last 14 months.  She always makes me think. 
      My answer was "I don't know, all the old me would have ever wanted was to go back to work and return to my normal life, but I don't think that girl exists anymore, I lost her somewhere along the way"  We had a very lengthy discussion about this, but I'll keep those things between just the two of us.
      It is strange, it's like I can close my eyes and see myself all those months ago. We are looking at each other, but she is in the shadows, somewhat obscured by the events and grief that has transpired. The woman on this side of the mirror is ever changing, and finally, I'm ok with that. For the first time in YEARS, this women has hopes and dreams. Before I never thought about what I COULD do if I wanted to. I just muddled through each day, just trying to get through so I could do it all over again the next day.
     She and I talked about work. Both she and my Endocrinologist do not think I'm even near ready, so we talked about the "someday" work I may want to do. I told her I want to make beautiful things, I want to make people smile, and I want to help people and make a difference. Of course she said that was a little vague, but it's a start. Just the fact that I am thinking about "someday" is a big deal for me. The girl on the other side of the mirror never thought about "someday." This girl wants joy in her life, she wants beauty and color in her life. She wants love and friends and purpose, and believes she deserves all of these things. What any of that means today, I don't know. Time till tell.
     Now, a little off topic, we talked about strength, and I cried. I asked "why do people tell me I am strong, I cry, I have panic attacks, I am so often afraid" Her answer, "But, you're here, you fight, you decide to wake up every morning, you faced cancer and won. You decide to come here to help you heal. You lost your father and you made it through, you fight through migraine or neck pain every day. You are strong, it is only up to you to believe it, it has always been there" Maybe that's a "someday" thing. I don't know I quiet believe that yet. But I do know this, when I look in the mirror now, though the bags under my eyes are a little bigger and darker, though I have yet to loose all of the weight this disease helped to put on my body, and though I see a woman looking years older than she did just 18 months ago, for the first time maybe ever, I like what I see. I am excited to see where she will go, what the unwritten pages of my story will reveal. It will be interesting to see what "someday" brings.


"Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten."   Natasha Bedingfield
      
      

I will try again tomorrow.......

Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying "I will try again tomorrow"      Mary Anne Radmacher


     I think courage is subjective. People often tell me I am strong, but I have always been told that tears are a sign of weakness.  I have cried a river of tears this year. Spent hours dwelling and feeling sorry for myself. Maybe the strength comes in when the tears dry up and I just start moving again. 
     There is a line in one of my favorite songs "How many times can I break 'til I shatter". Well, I have felt broken beyond repair more times than I can count this past year, and have yet to shatter into a million little pieces. A little worse for wear, a few metaphorical bruises, black eyes and maybe limping, but not shattered. I have been close, but have always been able to pull myself back.
     Let's review for those of you that are new to my party. More than a year ago I was diagnosed with Papillary Thyroid Cancer stage 2 with Follicular  variant, had surgery to remove my thyroid, was told treatment that was needed to remove all traces of the cancer must be delayed because the drop in my thyroid hormone caused Major Depressive Disorder and Panic Disorder both of which could interfere with my ablility to follow instructions to the letter in regards to my treatment. In May my father became very ill and it became apparent that we were losing him physically, and mentally because of dementia, he was really already lost to us. Then around the same time my son told me that his wife and mother of their two children were going to separate and get a divorce because they were just too different. I had been going to counseling and seeing a psychiatrist regularly and it was felt I could go off my meds and prepare for treatment. My doctor forgot about me and I became SO hypothyroid I was what it is called Mxydemic and told I was lucky to not be in a coma. That situation was rectified with new doctors, and after a months worth of tests and scans my Radioactive Iodine Ablation took place. The treatment made me nauseous and I vomited for days, possibly vomiting up much of the radioactive iodine needed to kill the remaining cells. While in isolation (a requirement) my father passed and my husband broke all the rules to comfort and be there for me. The depression and Panic Disorder continue, though I have good days and bad. Ask anyone close to me and they will tell you it does not take much to send me into a tail spin. All of that, and I had not broken. Stumbled, yes broken, no.
     That brings us to this week. More blood work. Always blood work, always tests, always issues. I know these numbers mean nothing to most of you but without a thyroid, on medication my THS level should be ideally at 0.05-0.03. It has currently risen from 14 to 100. This is considered severely hypothyroid. Add to that my WBC count is extremely low and it is no wonder I can barely get out of bed, changing the laundry makes my head spin and sweeping the floor makes my heart palpitate and my breathing hard. However, I am a lucky girl....  I am not alone. I have a husband, though he may not always know what to say, he let's me be me and cry it out, throw a fit, or yell at him for no reason. I have 3 sons, 3 men in my life that would give their own lives to make me happy. I have the feistiest, wild, most loving grandchildren that put their arms around my neck or sit in my lap and make me feel that everything is ok. I have a few amazing girls on my side that I can say I love with a kind of love I never knew I was capable of. I also have a bad-ass sister that kicked cancer's ass three times that is the best example of strength and courage a girl can have.
     So universe, bring it on. I will cry, I will wallow, I will pout, but I will also fight. It's in my nature. I have Faith, I have Hope, I have Courage, but above all I have a team of people behind me that I don't want to let down.


"She stood in the storm and when the wind did not blow her away, she adjusted her sails"      Elizabeth Edwards

Confession

Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, but the stigma and bias shame us all.  -Bill Clinton.


    Would you tell me as a cancer patient to just not have cancer? Or a diabetic to produce more insulin. Or a paraplegic to stand up and walk?  Many of you may not know that I have lived with chronic pain of migraines for 17 years. Given also the fact that I have relatives with bipolar and depression it is no surprise that when diagnosed with Thyroid Cancer I spun into a dark land of fear and depression which I have worked tirelessly for the past year to dig myself out of.  Add in the fact that a main symptom of hypothyrodism, which obviously I have since I no longer have a thyroid it is no wonder I find myself here. Please understand I still a mother, still a wife, a grandmother, a sister, an aunt, a friend. I am no longer ashamed to say I suffer from Major Disorder and Panic Attack Disorder. I was inspired by my hero and friend to "come out". After a very recent (and scary) event I have chosen to share this with the people closest in my life, most of you being my friends here on Facebook. I do not want this to be my families "dirty little secret"  Please do not judge me. Please do not tell me to stop crying or to go for a walk. And don't you dare  tell me or anyone else that you think may be suffering to "just get over it" or by God "snap out of it."  Tell me a joke. Ask what you can do. Allow me to make the ugly cry face and spill my heart  to you. Tell me about your day. Just tell me that you care. I say this not only for me, but for all that battle a condition that is still attached to a stigma and still often only whispered about. I have chosen to fight. There is a fighting spirit inside of me and she is tenacious. Fighting cancer has been difficult, but fighting the depression, the despair the fear has been like climbing Mt. Everest barefoot and blind in a monsoon. I have chosen to write about this here as well as my blog because it seems more cathartic. My name is Roberta and I am depressed. I have panic attacks and breakdowns and I am no longer ashamed to talk about it. Take some time to get to know me and you will discover I am an amazing person that can do amazing things, I just need to find that one thing to reach for to pull me to my feet and set me on the correct path. Maybe this is it. Who knows? Thank you for being  patient and please help me to discover the girl I am going to be. And please, if you have a friend or family member that you think may be suffering from depression, talk to them. Be there for them. Try to be their soft place to fall, because there is a bottom, and at the bottom your choices are limited and feeling hopeless with nowhere to go is the darkest, scariest place to be. Thank you. I love you all. 


        I dedicate this to my father. Daddy, I will get better and I will make you and Mom proud.

Fear

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will admit it to pass over me and through me. And when it is gone I will turn the inner eye towards it's path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.

                       Only I will remain.....author unknown

     What are you afraid of? Many of you will say spiders, or perhaps heights. Maybe you are afraid of the dark or water. Possibly you fear being alone or even dogs. I am not talking about the kind of fear  that makes you a little nervous or edgy. I am speaking of paralyzing, shaking in your shoes, unable to breathe FEAR.  
     Throughout the years I have known normal fears. I hate heights. Not too fond of mice or bugs. Typical stuff. But just about a year ago all that changed. First, one of my biggest fears in my life came to pass and I was diagnosed with cancer. Perhaps I have always feared this disease more than most because my mother passed away from breast cancer when I was just 8 years old but was sick most of my childhood. Suddenly my life changed. I guess it wasn't suddenly, it was more like a slow moving train. First, of course was the fear of dying. But I will save that for another day. Somehow, throughout surgery, recovery, treatment, fear began to sneak into the cracks and crevices of my psyche. I became aware one day when I was at the grocery store the man ringing up my order kept glancing at the scar on my neck. At the time it was quite fresh and rather hideous looking. I became warm. My breathing increased. My chest squeezed I wanted to run but was paralyzed. That, I believe was a mini panic attack. Like a small wave lapping at the shore on a calm day. Little did I know the Tsunami was on it's way. Before I knew it, I could not leave the house alone for fear someone would harm me. I fear being in the house alone and often check my doors and windows.  After falling several times in a matter of days  the fear of falling became so real I would only shower occasionally and only when someone was home. Oh and how I fear driving. I hate the car. Even when someone else is driving. I could go on and on, the list is endless. I am always sure someone is looking, judging, knowing my inner thoughts. The panic attacks happened almost daily and the fear of having one was so terrifying it just seemed easier to stay inside safe and sound. But then a stressful situation would arise as they tend to do, and the panic at home became just as terrifying as outside. I have learned techniques to slow if not prevent the attacks. But they left behind the fear. Like the wet sand on the beach after the storm. They left the self-doubt, self-hatred, and the secrets. Oh the secrets. Secrets that I felt (and still often feel) I could tell no one. Thoughts and deeds that I just knew (know) would destroy my loved ones and leave others gaping at me with no words to say.
     Crazy is a word I fear. Because sometimes I fear I have truly gone mad. I was a normal, contributing member of society when my life was side-swiped by a tsunami and everything in it's path was destroyed. Oh, and throw in losing my father, my son's separation, and everyday life stresses and you have created the perfect storm. 
      If it seems I have been MIA lately, it is because I am still riding out the storm, waiting for the path of destruction to end so I can rebuild myself. As of late, I have let the storm of fear win. But I am strong. I, like the tall house on the hill have weathered this storm. I may need a few repairs, but there is still life in me. I  still, even after a whole year, have a long way to go. I am tired, and I wish I had someone to carry me. But in the end it is my fight and no one else's. I will take some time to toughen up and continue to ride the eye of the storm. After all, there is only one other option, which is really no option at all. Fight or flight, let's see? I guess I have finally chosen fight. 


We must build dikes of courage to hold back the flood of fear.  Martin Luther King Jr.

In my skin

“Hope is not pretending that troubles don't exist. It is the hope that they won't last forever. That hurts will be healed and difficulties overcome. That we will be led out of the darkness and into the sunshine.”


    I have faith. I have hope. I know that there are great things to come for me and I have a lot to still offer the world. Usually. But there are days (sometimes several in a row) that holding on to those things take every bit of will and strength I have. I am in one of those places. I had an emotional set back a couple of weeks ago and it shook me to the core. The emotions and thoughts that I endured for those few days destroyed me and I have had to start my fight, my journey towards normalcy all over again. 


     It is so hard to explain to others, but I no longer feel comfortable in my own skin. It has nothing to do with my looks. It is about the person that I am. I am no longer outgoing and self confident. I constantly judge myself and feel as if nothing I do is right or good enough. I take the smallest of critiques, and allow them to crush me and my self confidence. I no longer feel as if I have anything to contribute to this world. I picture myself standing still as everyone and everything moves around me and I am frozen unable to act or speak. Just an observer, not a participator. It is a terrifying feeling. It makes me feel as if I am drowning in a sea of loneliness, even if I am surround by people, even the ones that love me most.
     I need a lifeline to keep me from drowning.  I need skills and goals and a sounding board.  On April 1st we will have health insurance again, and I hope to find a new counselor.  I need to share my feelings, but with a stranger, someone who cannot be hurt or upset by my feelings. Someone who can give me techniques and skills to cope and find the right path again. To find a way to be comfortable in my new skin once again.  I will get there, but it is a much slower process than I ever expected. I thank all my loved ones and friends for their patience as I strive to reach my full potential.


“The great essentials for happiness in this life are something to do, something to love and something to hope for.”
     

Today

"To weep is to make less the depth of grief."
― William Shakespeare

     I would like to apologize ahead of time to anyone reading this, as this is going to be a rambling, self-pitying rant of a post. I have to get it out of me, and if you do not want to read on, don't feel obligated. As I once wrote, this blog is for me but I enjoy sharing it and hope others enjoy reading it, however this one may be different.
    I am sad, angry, and feel very sorry for myself today. It has been more than a year now that I have been going through this journey. I have had good days and bad, good weeks and bad, and I have just rolled with it. Today my anger is geared towards doctors, health care professionals and websites that told me I had the "good cancer" and that it would be "easy" or "no problem" to all of you I say "BULLSHIT!" As a member of TyCa (the thyroid cancer supoort group) I know that that is RARELY the case. I also know that I am more extreme them most, probably due to my other heath problems such as complicated migraines and depression, but I just wish someone would have told me the truth of how this could be. IT'S JUST NOT FAIR!!!!!!!  I am tired of being tired. I hate that I can do less than 20% of what I used to be able to do. I hate that I have to take medicine FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!! I hate the word cancer. I hate being afraid of just about everything. I hate going to the doctors because I don't know if they have ANY idea what they are talking about but I have to do what they say because my life is in their hands. I hate Radioactive Iodine and how I know it is still in my body changing the way that it works.  I hate that my children don't have the mother they used to. I hate that my husband has to see me cry so much. I could go on FOREVER!
   I know I should be thankful and most days I am. Not today! Today I will cry. Today I will be angry. Today I will have self-pity. Today I will wallow. Today will be about me. Today I just need someone to hug me and tell me everything is going to be ok. Tomorrow I think I will be ok. Tomorrow I think I can be thankful again. Tomorrow I think I can have positive thoughts. So for me tomorrow can not come soon enough..........


"The sun will come out tomorrow"      Annie

The New Normal

“Normal is an ideal. But it’s not reality. Reality is brutal, it’s beautiful, it’s every shade between black and white, and it’s magical. Yes, magical. Because every now and then, it turns nothing into something.”  Tara Kelly

     I feel as if has been an eternity since I've written. I have a million excuses, the biggest of which is after my father passed, I lost the passion for it (or so I thought). I have started a thousand (ok maybe 15 or 20) posts, but never got past the first paragraph. Everything in my life was in such an upheaval. Since February 22nd of last year, the day I got my confirmed diagnosis of thyroid cancer I just wanted everything to be "normal" again. But the past year has been anything but "normal" It has been a crazy, wild, shit-storm of a ride!  I would never, ever EVER want to relive it, but I wouldn't in a million years want to take it back either. In so many ways 2011 was the worst year of my life, but in more ways it was the best.


     How can a year that brought cancer, death, and such utter darkness be the best year of someone's life? In that cancer, death and darkness I found so much.  To start, I found a strong, positive, amazing woman inside of me that can kick the crap out of just about anything you can throw her way.  I also found out how much I love my husband, and how lucky we are to have a relationship like we do. It is rare.  If this year didn't chase him away, nothing will.  I have also discovered that I have three awesome, compassionate, supportive men in my life that I actually helped to raise.  I am so proud and thankful for them, and they always surprise me.  They never think twice and just do what needs to be done, always thinking first of me, whether I want them to or not.  I must have done something amazing to deserve them.
      I also have two grandchildren that I love so much, sometimes when I look at them my heart actually stops for a moment.  They are a gift.  You have never known true joy until your grandchild looks at you and says "I love you!"  It is real, it is pure.  
     So, what I used to think in my life was "normal", work, home, dinner, laundry, bed,  repeat, repeat, repeat, what I wanted back so badly when I was so sick and so sad, is gone forever. It has turned into a new normal.  People looking in may see my life as utterly boring, but I see it as amazing. I have come to find joy, peace and thankfulness in so many things.  A conversation with my son.  A kiss from my husband.  A smile from my grandkids.  An hour with my best friend Deena.  I see miracles in those moments.  It's as if my eyes were covered with dark, thick glasses for so many years, and now they are gone and I see everything brighter and clearer.  
     There is still a sadness within me.  I will forever grieve for things that I have lost.  I will never forget the dark, cold scary place my mind and soul resided in this summer.  My father's eyes in his last days will always haunt me.  I will mourn for the break up of my son's marriage.  But all of these things brought new beginnings, new insights.  I believe everything that has been thrown at me this year could have broken me. It nearly did.  But I also believe that the right people were put into my life to help get me through. Anybody reading this is one of those people.  My doctors, counselors, my family, members of Gilda's Club, my facebook friends.  Everyone of them has crossed my path for a reason. I have learned something from each one of them.  I believe there are no accidents, but I do believe in miracles.  My life was saved in more ways than one this year, and that is the biggest miracle of all.
     So, I will live my new "normal" life, that in it's ordinary way is in no way ordinary.  I encourage you all to take off your glasses and really "SEE".  Don't wait for a diagnosis of cancer, or the loss of a loved one, or a deep dark depression to live an EXTRAordinary life.  Enjoy each moment and know that in every obstacle that is in your way is a chance to learn, to grow and to be thankful.


"You can find something truly important in an ordinary minute."  -Mitch Albom
     

Stronger!

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
What doesn't kill you makes a fighter
Footsteps even lighter...    (Kelly Clarkston)


     It's been a long time since I've written. Losing my father was like a punch in my gut, and I feel like I still don't have my breath back. He was an amazing man. He was a strong man. He lived through the depression, fought for our freedom in WWII, worked in the copper mines in the UP, raised 8 children (some of them not so easy), went through several years with a very ill wife and young children at home, and lost my mother in his 40's. It has taken me all my life to realize how lucky I am to have had him as a father. Alzheimer's took his strength away. It took away who he was. But up until the very end, he still showed signs of knowing and wanting his family near him. Everything he did he did for his family. That is strength. 
     I have learned a lot about my own strength this last month, and have learned I am a lot stronger than I EVER gave myself credit for. I had to say goodbye to my father in his hospital bed on a Monday afternoon. I knew that I would not see him again, and that the next day I was going for treatment that would force me to be isolated from human contact for the following 6 days. I did not know if my father would pass and if I would even be able to attend his funeral. The RAI treatment to kill my cancer made me very ill. I had to be alone in my sons room for the first four days, and was vomiting and in pain unable to be with my family and my father at the hospital. My father held on until Thursday, after each of his 8 children had their chance to say goodbye. My husband got the phone call at work, and came home to tell me. Because of my radioactive status, he broke doctor's orders and held me, but only briefly. I could not hug my children. I could not join my brother and sisters in the funeral plans. I had to stay in the room and do what I needed to do for my own health and future. It was the most difficult thing I have ever done. It was pure strength of will that got me through. 
     His viewing was Monday, and I was cleared to go. I did not cry until the rosary was said. The rosary and his faith were a very important part of his life. I had written a poem for him in a previous blog, and asked if I could read it Tuesday at the service, along with some promises I made to him. I don't know how I got through it without shaking or crying. I think he (my Dad) gave me the strength to do it. He is laid next to my mother now which is right where he wanted to be. 
     On the same day we buried him, my doctor called and said she didn't believe my treatment worked, most likely because of all of the vomiting I did in the days after taking the pill. I will not know where I go next for a few more weeks, but I am ok with that. I will face it when it comes. You see, if I can sit in a room alone, grieving the loss of my father, unable to comfort my children, sick and hurting, and live through it, I can do anything. That did not kill me, it did not break me, it only made me stronger. While my heart is still broken, and there are still tears every day, they will not break me either. I have walked through the darkest of dark places, and emerged a different, stronger, more determined me. I will never be the same. I have lost pieces of me along the way, but found new ones. No one can go through a journey like mine and not be affected by it. I am only one of so many. If I can do this, so can you. I thought I was broken, but I wasn't, maybe just lost. My journey is not over, but I have the resources and determination now to continue it. Thank you Daddy for that gift you left me, your strength, your will, your pureness of heart. I will carry it with me for the rest of my life.

Sleep Daddy Sleep

Sleep Daddy sleep, of mother you will dream,
       Know that we are with you, our love runs like a stream.
Whether at your side, or in our hearts,
       we'll make our peace as you depart.
We love you Dear Daddy, each in our own way,
       you taught us each well, and will comfort each other if today is the day.
You raised a great family, some may call it a brood,
      We will lean on each other as your life is construed.
You've led a long life, influenced many lives,
     We know you will go peacefully when your time arrives.
Please know your family is with you, each of us nearby,
     We know that you can hear us as we come to say goodbye.
And when God calls you home, with mother you will be,
     True love reunited, no pain or angst, just together eternally.


**** I love you Daddy. I am so glad we have had these past few months. I'm glad I got to hold your hand, and make you smile, and see some recognition in your eyes. I know you're no longer in pain, and you can rest peacefully now. You are surrounded by those that love you the most. I will always remind my children of your humor and how much you loved your family. I will relish them with stories of backyard BBQS with corn on the cob cooking in a garbage can and tons of hamburgers and kielbasa on the grill. Or how you taught me how to gamble at cards for nickles (and Grandma Christy taught me how to cheat). I will remind them how even though you had so many grandkids and greatkids you never forgot a single one at Christmas. I will tell them that you made the best date nut bread and strawberry jam on the planet!  And I will tell stories to my grandchildren that didn't get a fair chance to know you, and for that I am sorry. Over the last few days since your passing, through today's technology your younger grandchildren and great-grandchildren are leaning on each other. Telling stories of their favorite memories to each other via text message and Facebook, such as all of the varying stories of how you lost your thumb (their favorite, of course was for all the thumb suckers!)  They have talked about special moments you have spent with each one of them. That is the legacy you have left behind. A family though large, and sometimes separated by distance, they love each other very much. I love you Daddy. I will always be your baby, your youngest little girl.****

Invisible....

"Everyone has an invisible sign around their neck saying 'make me feel important'."   Mary Kay Ash


     I wasn't super popular in high school, but I had a lot of friends, and fit in well. I didn't bully or tease others, because I certainly would never want someone to do it to me, but I was always glad I wasn't one of the "invisibles."  Well, now I fear I have become one. I talked about how being thrown aside and forgotten about had damaged my self-esteem. Well, I misspoke, it destroyed it. 


      I am an intelligent woman. I am able to think logically and reasonably. I used to be able to make sound decisions. That part of me knows I must get past this. I am in the hands of good, caring doctors now. Tests are being done and I am being informed every step of the way. It has been 3 weeks since I was in the hospital, and things take time, but it has also been 3 more weeks of no syntroid, which means my numbers are getting high again, and being Myxedemic last time scared the hell out of me. To have 3 doctors tell me what a dangerous state I was in and how lucky I am freaked me out, so as those symptoms return my fear grows. It takes a lot of self control to control mind from going to that place, and being hypothyroid makes it very hard to control my thoughts.
      Even small things can rock my unstable world. A perceived "tone" from one of my kids, a joke from my husband, an un-returned phone call. Plus, I am SO tired all of the time again. I feel useless. I want to get up and sweep, or dust or whatever but even such little tasks can wear me thin. Several times last night I felt as if I may pass out just from cooking dinner. I had to lay down several times in the process. 
     So, I am not  much use around the house, I have no job and cannot contribute to the household finances, or society, and I have all this time on my hands to think and cry and be angry. It's ironic how such a "good cancer" could take so much away from me. The cancer itself has almost been the least of my worries. Of course it scares me, but there are just so many other issues to deal with I have shoved that to a bookshelf way in the back of my mind to gather dust. I understand that as the test results come back today or tomorrow I will have to blow the dust off of it and deal with it, and of course I will. But in the mean time I wait. Mostly alone, mostly scared, mostly invisible.

Stronger

"You never know how STRONG you are until being STRONG is the only choice you have."

    I very wise woman that I admire very much sent this quote to my facebook. It made me cry. In a good way. See, I cry a lot lately. Sometimes because someone says just what I need to hear, like that quote. Sometimes because I received a card in the mail, or a phone call from a friend. Sometimes because I am still mad as hell, and sometimes because I am just so thankful to be here.

      I haven't blogged in a couple of weeks because I just didn't know where to start. I haven't even logged on to try. I have been through so much over the past few weeks, and my emotions are a mess. But they have changed. Like me, they are evolving. I have shed that dark despair. I have no intention on giving up. I have definitely found my door and went crashing through it. Oh, I am still a hot mess, but for different reasons and in a different way.
     I went into details in my blog on 9/15, so I won't again, but coming face to face with (another) health crisis, being told I could have fallen into a coma, or worse, has completely  changed me. Before I was in such a dark lonely place, giving up seemed my only option. I thought about it constantly. I hated myself. I felt so alone,  even when people were all around me. I don't want to sound dramatic, but it took possibly facing death, to want to fight for life. Before my soul was so troubled I had no fight at all. Now all I want to do is fight. Before I could not even picture a future, now I think about and plan things I want to do in the future. 
      That brings me to my newest struggle which I mentioned in my earlier blog. The ANGER. I didn't have to go through all that I did. Had I been properly taken care of when first diagnosed, through surgery and treatment, I would have been back to work, my life would not have been completely turned upside down. I would not have been ROBBED of experiences and time with my grandchildren. My thyroid cancer was first suspected on Nov. 26th of 2010. It is now Oct. 8, 2011. I have learned the typical span from suspicion, surgery, to treatment is 4 months. Every appointment I made took a month to get in, no one seemed to have time for me. After all, I had the "good cancer" no rush, right. And what makes me the angriest and hurts the most is that when I was in an actual CRISIS, when my thyroid hormone level was at a critical point, the doctor that was supposed to be monitoring me took a long weekend and couldn't be reached. It makes me feel as if my life is not as important as his golf time. My own doctor that has taken care of me for 10 years kept telling me to call the Endo! I knew I was in trouble, but no one had time for me. I am working hard to overcome the anger. It's happening slowly. But even more so, their lack of vigilance has stripped me of my self esteem, my feelings of self-worth. That brings a lot of tears. I used to be able to talk to any one any where, and now I feel that what I have to say is not important enough. I used to meet people eyes and say hello, now I rarely even look up. My new doctors are helping a lot. My Endocrinologist in particular is being UBER vigilant. I am learning to accept that I will not get that time back. I cannot change it. I must move on. And my Pollyanna side that must find good in everything is thankful that if nothing else, the whole experience has pulled me out of the hell that I was in. 
     I have been through my whole body scan, an MRI and this Wednesday I will have a PET scan. All of this is to determine the correct treatment, so I will not have to go hypo again as that would be dangerous. During the MRI I cried. I couldn't help but think I should not be there. I should not be going through this. So, sometimes my mind still takes me to that angry place. I also feel so much guilt for being sick in the first place. Of course the medical bills are crazy, the doctors co-pays alone are ridiculous, and we won't mention the medications, plus two emergency room visits this month alone. Plus we went from a two income to a one income family. I applied for unemployment but was declined because I worked for a non-profit organization. So I often feel guilt about not being able to work, even though I know it's way out of my control.  We have made a lot of adjustments. But I feel that my family must be becoming resentful and tired. Of course, the logical, old part of me knows this is not true, but it is an emotion I am really struggling with.
     Today is day three working on this post, and I had an appointment with my new Primary Care Doctor. Again, amazing. He was comforting and reassuring, and thorough. He did not hide his astonishment when I shared my story as to why I am switching doctors in the middle of treatment. He was shocked to hear that I was able to walk or talk at all while my TSH 205, and his comment was that I must be very strong, and once I am through treatment I should regain strength quickly. He expressed concern about heart damage, but said that is not a worry for today, and that can be managed. He even made a promise, as my Primary doctor to always manage and monitor my care with other doctors. That was very comforting to me. 
     So it is my hope that I am nearing the end. I have so much more to my story, most of it better to be shared when I am not so emotional. Please say a prayer on Wednesday, I am nervous about the PET scan, it sounds like it is quite a test. It will take nearly 2 hours. 
     I would like to end this by saying thank you my family. I have been an emotional crazy woman at home. The poor men in my life NEVER know what will make cry. They are great patient men. My sister has been amazing driving me to doctor appointments and tests and holding my hand, asking questions I forget. My other sister calls often to check on me.  I can hear the worry in her voice. She lives in Tennessee and I know in her heart she wishes she were here, but she came for a week to help find a group home for my father, and had to go back. But I know she's here in spirit. Thank you to my friend Deena that always checks on me and visits often, and to my friends, through Facebook that show their support. I certainly don't feel alone anymore.  I love you all.

Hopes and Dreams

"If you get up one more time than you fall, you will make it through"  -Chinese Proverb
     I used to dream of being a beautiful ballerina dancing on stage, now I dream of just being able to dance again.
     I used to dream of being a rock star like Joan Jett. Now I just dream of singing while I do chores around the house.
     I used to dream of being thin and fit and running 5 miles a day. Now I dream of taking a walk to the end of the block with my grandchildren.
     I used to dream of having a fancy important job, Now I dream of being able to work one day in the future.
     I used to dream of having a bikini body, now I dream of walking on a beach in bare feet.
     
     I used to worry about having a clean, pretty house. Now I am thankful for any help I can get, or even being able to sweep the floor once in a while.
     I used to love to be able to hop in the car and drive. Now I look forward to the day I can drive.

     I used to think I had a lot of friends. Now I am so grateful for the GREAT friends that I have.
     Hopes and dreams can change. Life changes unexpectedly. I am so thankful to be here and I look forward to one day (soon) being able to do each thing listed above. I will forever be thankful for the little moments in life and not take them for granted.
      

 

"Pray like it all depends on God, then when you are done, go work like it all depends on you."

Martin Luther
  You could say that I am an emotional person. I feel almost every emotion everyday. Sadness, frustration, pain, empathy, guilt, helplessness.....  One emotion I don't often feel is anger. It is a useless emotion, and I think my ability to forgive easily helps a lot with this. 
   Well, I am ANGRY! I am seething with it. I can feel it boiling up inside me, wanting to get out. I want to smash things and scream and punch something. Fortunately, I don't have the physical strength for any of that. And I believe this anger will pass, and pass quickly. I don't think I have ever felt like this before. I have always felt that anger is like a blame game. By refusing to take any culpability for your actions, your anger is displaced on someone else.
    So you may ask whom I am so angry at. I am angry at 4 doctors that I trusted with my life, my health, my future. I decided to go with a certain health system which has a good reputation, even against others advice, people I trust more than anything else in the world. Why would I do this? Faith. At the time I had made the choice, and felt that I had to have faith in God and faith in my choice and doctors and all would be okay. Oh how wrong I was. As I have learned all my lessons, I have also learned this the hard. I still believe in faith, I believe in miracles, but as the quote above says, it's good to have faith, but faith without action is like a beautiful car without a transmission. So, well, beyond a shadow of a doubt, 4 doctors left me blowing in the wind. I believe each felt I was the responsiblity of the other, therefore somehow I got lost in the middle.
     So, after all that rambling, it brings me to my story, and why I am so angry. Thank you for your patience so far. As many of you know, 3-4 weeks ago I started having dizzy spells, lapse of memory, loss of balance. All of this led to me to have several falls, one of which I sprained my ankle, and my wrist. My wrist only hurts sometimes now, but I am still having a lot of issues with my ankle. While at the emergency room (not the hospital I had my surgery at) they were more concerned with WHY I was falling and did a battery of tests. They diagnosed me with bradycardia (low heart rate) and said I need to see my endocrinologist within 2 days. That was on Tues, Aug 30th. On Wednesday, Aug 31, I called the endo's office and was told I need to speak with Chris, who (of course) I had leave to a message. She did not return my call until the next day, Thursday Sept. 1. She informed me the office would be closed until Wed. Sept 7th., and to call back then. Are you kidding me? Anyway in the meantime my symptoms only got worse. I began to slur my speech, could not walk a straight line. bumped into walls, continued to fall, began vomiting and not holding down any food, and passed out twice. Also the cramps and spasms in my hips and legs worsened, becoming quite difficult to walk. Not to mention I was sleeping at least 14-16 hours a day. On Wed. 9:00 a.m. I called, got her to the phone only by throwing a fit, she says to me, "well, I don't understand why you are not checking your blood sugar regularly."  I said "Uh... cuz I'm not diabetic" so she says, well what happened to your meter, did you lose it" I said, I don't know think you know who  I am, but I do not see Dr. Rosenblatt for Diabetes, He is treating me for THYROID CANCER! and than thought to myself (dumbass!!!!!). She puts me on hold and when she comes back on she says Dr would like to see you right away so how is OCT 3rd. That was it, I was done!!! I called my PCP and was told by her secretary that I already have an appointment on the 29th and would not be able to get in any sooner.
     After talking to Keith and Mike on Sunday, Sept 11 by which time I knew I was in serious trouble, We decided to notify the hospital I saw for the sprained ankle/wrist and see what they suggest. I left on online request for a phone call at 10 p.m. Well I received a call back by 9:15 the very next morning! Imagine that. I explained the situation and was told I need to find a new PCP first, and together, we found one that seemed like a good fit. Well, my luck, being what it is, his father passed away the day before and would be out all this week so I can't see him til next week. Still better than the others. I still knew I needed to act on my instincts, and decided to call my Bad-Ass Sister who has survived cancer 4 times and takes no crap from any doctor. I asked her to call the oncologist she has used for 20 years as they have such a great relationship. First she spoke with the office manager to explain my situation, and within one hour the doctor himself called her back! He told her If I could not see a doctor the very next day, I am to go to emergency, that I am in a very dangerous situation. 
     My husband took the next day off, I packed a bag and off we went. They were very busy!!!!! We waited 2 hours just for a cubby in the er. again, blood was drawn, a CT of my head from when I bumped it from passing out, chest xrays, an ekg. And then the waiting. The thyroid tests take forever, and came back that my TSH (thyroid stimulated hormone) was at 207. On June 13th is was 27.5. A  normal level is between 0.03 and 1.7. I knew I was off the synthroid to go hypo, but no one kept track of me, I should have began treatment sometime around 80. I was told I was myxedema, and very close to a myxedema coma. It is a very dangerous state, often fatal and almost always leads to permanent heart damage. They were able to get a hold of my sisters oncologist who is seeing me tomorrow, and he said to put me immediately on the highest dose of sythroid. How can well trained well experienced doctors allow this to happen? How can a doctor I have never spoken to but has cared for sister for so long step in and care so much about my health, even though he has never met me?
     I have learned a great life lesson, though. Faith can move mountains, Faith can achieve great things, but we must not have blind Faith. We must play an active role in that Faith and trust ourselves as well, after all, that is a form of Faith as well. We must use all of our resources, even if that resource is your Big Bad Ass Sister! 
    I may not be able to have Radioactive Iodine Treatment. Going hypo in any way now will be too dangerous, so we must come up with a Plan B. I don't know what is in my future. I am sure there will still be many bumps, but For the first time in such a long time I feel I have people on my side, fighting for me. I am so glad I just didn't sit back and wait because would have had tragic results!

Chrysalis/Changes

“Life can either be accepted or changed. If it is not accepted, it must be changed. If it cannot be changed, then it must be accepted.”

     As any of you that have followed my blog at all know, My life has been through many, many changes over the last 6 months. So many that I don't even recognize it anymore. But, if you recall my first post, and even the quote I keep at the top, this blog is about change, finding my bliss, and how to stop chasing butterflies, allowing them to come to me. 
     I know that I have had a very difficult time emotionally, I have lost faith and hope and was ready to give up on so many occasions, and that was definitely not the way in which I expected this blog to go. But those were the feelings I was having at the time, and putting them in writing was healing and cathartic. But over time I have come to realize that it was necessary to go through all that I to reachmy final destination.
     I also have made some huge realizations as of late. Despite past postings, I have never been alone. Also, the Aztec Warrior Princess I have been searching for has been inside me all along, lying in wait until I was ready for her. And my angel, whom I picture as my mother never deserted me, at times she would sit quietly allowing me to find the strength and character within myself, and perhaps so that I could learn, as Psalm 46 says "Be still and know that I am God."   
     I am healing emotionally and spiritually, even as my physical health is failing. Where I was having 3 or 4 panic attacks a week, I have only had three in about a month. I still have my bad days, but they are becoming farther apart. I will be doing something and suddenly realize I haven't cried in a few days. I find myself smiling and interacting more, and even laughing here and there. This is such a long way from where I was. I have not shared this with anyone, not my counselor, not my group, not my psychiatrist,  mostly for fear of being sent way, and this has been eating me inside out, and I need to rid myself of it. At my lowest points, when fear and loathing and despair had overtaken me, I had an overwhelming need to hurt myself. Not suicide, not a serious injury, but would dig my nails and scratch my arm so badly I would often bleed, and today I am left with many scars on my upper left arm. And once I took my "honeybee" scissors which are razor sharp scrapbooking scissors and had them pressed to my arm ready to carve "help" into my arm. At that moment I believe my mother came to me and held me until it passed. I have not tried since. I have also cut my fingernails very short, and a very dear friend bought me a beautiful cross called "a clinging cross" and it is designed to fit just right into your hand for comfort and solace. It is now the first thing I reach for when I become upset. Instead of dwelling on the act of hurting myself, I realize that all of the acts I have taken since, are steps toward healing. Cutting my nails, clinging my cross, choosing not to keep this secret any longer. So you can see why I felt as if I was alone and frightened in such a dark place.
     So as I heal from all of this, my physical health is failing. The dizzy spells are getting worse, I have been vomiting, alot, I am sleeping 14-16 hours a day. My muscles spasm and ache all the time, especially in my legs and hips. Even a tiny task, such a quick trip to the grocery store is overwhelming. The thought of walking to the back of the store for milk or eggs causes my chest to squeeze and makes me want to lay on the floor right there and give up. But I DON'T! I slowly walk to the back, get what is needed and check out. Also progress. I am used to physical pain, I have lived with it for a long time. Enduring physical pain is a walk in the park compared to the emotional ride I have been on. I also know, that once I receive treatment for the cancer and get back my medication I will slowly gain my strength and health back.
    Also, during my lowest times, my family was facing so many crises that I did not think I would make it to the other side. But as life goes on, changes become normalcy, life goes on and people adjust. I did not think my family would ever be the same with the separation of my son and his wife. I did not want my grandchildren to endure it, or feel sadness. But as they have adjusted, and settle into a new routine they are happy, and thriving. They know they are loved and safe with both their parents. They have two sets of Grandparents that add to their care and ensure they know they are loved. Their aunts and uncles on both sides take time to spend with them. I have seen my son smile the most since he was in high school. This is not an attempt to lessen his marriage in any way, I believe Mike and Kara loved (love) each other very much! But sometimes that is not enough. We are spending more time with Mike and the kids than ever, and our family has grown closer.
     When we were told we needed to move because the landlord wanted to put the house on the market, I did not think I could face a move. I was too exhausted. But we have moved, we are almost settled, and once again what I thought was tragic and overwhelming has been a positive change. I feel as if I have left so many bad things behind in the old house, and I am able to face the next stage in a "clean, fresh environment" I have issues with feeling safe. More emotional than anything. My "safe" place at that house was a small space behind my dresser, nearly into my closet. Here I have a bedroom that feels like a sanctuary. It is cozy, painted the perfect color purple, has a door wall that looks into a peaceful backyard, and I have hung all of my angel pictures which are so comforting to me.
     I guess the moral to this story is as difficult as it can be, change can be good. Change can be healing. Change is inevitable. My life is evolving, not like I thought it would, but as I see now we don't always know what's best for our future. And for the first time in a long time, I see a future. And I have also realized, that I am not chasing butterflies, I AM the butterfly, waiting, changing, transforming in my chrysalis, waiting until I am a fully developed butterfly. Maybe not perfect, maybe not quite whole, but changed. Survived. Ready to fly and move on to the next stage of my life. Thank you all for taking this crazy ride with me.