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The first CNA they sent me didn't work out. I'm not sure what the company was thinking. Here's the text sent to a friend who is still in the nursing home dealing with CNA's, nurses and roommates from hell.

"Oh Lord! My new CNA is 70 years old. I was like, what? Who sends a 70 year old woman to help a person in a wheelchair? It's her job so I'm not holding back. I have her act as my legs. I like her but I have a feeling she'll quit by winter. She says the laundry room from my apartment is too far to walk and the trash cans are so far they might as well be in a different zip code. lol My thought? Stop being a CNA BEFORE the age of 70 or don't complain about the distance you've got to walk. 70! They can't be serious. Thank goodness I know CPR. I may have to do it on her aged self after she gets back from the trash.

Update: They're sending me a younger CNA Monday morning, 8 am. We'll see how that goes. lol. The 70 yr old CNA and I talked frankly about her inability to handle my case. Crazy to send her to me."

You know what I always worry about? How will she feel about seeing my little nub, the amputation site? Will she be grossed out? Is it ugly to her? Am I ugly to her? The thought now is, it's not ugly, it just is what it is, but it's not ugly. I'm not ugly because I've had an amputation. Slowly, I've gone from ashamed of the amputation to 'just' being a bit self conscious. Lets hope that a CNA is used to seeing such things because I have such things. Then again, I'd hate to whip it out - Bamb! - then have her pass out on my floor. ...continue reading "CNA and Self Confidence"

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I can't seem to get myself to truly paint. It's as if I'm stopped up. All I seem capable of is painting shapes and simple figures or dripping paint down a page. I keep doing it though.

These are all watercolor and ink on 8.5 x 5.5 paper.

Filtered .Filtered by Sundrip

...continue reading "Art Flow"

I can't seem to get my head together. I'm physically and emotionally frayed. I've been trying my best all day to gather myself and settle my insides. I'm worried about my foot because it's split in a T shape in one spot then open in two other spots. The surgery was May 7th but with Lupus, healing has been compromised. We're back to treating the areas with honey.

I see the surgeon in October. I hope it's healed by then. In my head I fear disappointing him if it's not healed. Will he ask me why. What did I do to it? Did I neglect it? Why didn't I follow instructions? I did. I have followed instructions to the letter, even putting that horrid cocoa butter on myself despite hating the scent. I finished his painting, no problems there. I knew I'd knock it out because there was so much emotion involved. I could see the painting in my head. Perhaps the painting will ease other disappointments that my foot has yet to heal.  ...continue reading "Disquieted Soul"

Tonight was services. I knew I wanted to go but I felt so ... less than. I looked at my hair, stroked it back and thought, this mop looks horrible. I can't go like this. I guess I could put it in a pony tail. I dragged my hands over my skirt and blouse and thought, this will have to do. Then I looked at my feet embarrassed and considered staying home. I have to get shoes to go with skirts but they have to be 1.5 foot friendly. These Converse with a skirt and the whole make up thing looks so stupid, but I really needed to be there with my spiritual family so I went on. I'm happy I did. Mop hair, decent clothing and tennis shoes didn't stop the friends from talking to me and hugging and smiling at me. I shook hands and got to talk to so many people. I'm happy I went.

Part of me doesn't want to go places because I feel like such a burden on people. ...continue reading "Get Going"

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I've gotten a hold of all the paperwork I need to apply for the wheelchair accessible apartment! I have everything I need! Oh I can't wait to have my own place again. Since this started I've had zero personal space either physically or environmentally. People touch and prod, observe and examine, when and where they like. And they've done it since February when the train wreck began. So now after 5 months of living in a hospital with 2 months of that 5 in a nursing home, I will have night time privacy.

Coming w me to the new place (when I get one) will be the staff: nurses, CNA's and the physical therapist. I'll have a CNA 3x a week for four hours. It seems like a lot but there's still a lot I'm unable to do for myself. ...continue reading "Apartment Possibilities and the Wheelchair"

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12 painful stairs to a tiny room. Each step felt like I couldn't cry any more than I did one step earlier. I made it up the stairs and laid on the air mattress with a slow leak and asked myself, "is it worth it?" can't I just stop taking meds and let nature take its course in a matter of days? Then the real me took a breath! I was reminded that this is very temporary. I'm with friends who, though of humble means truly love me. And honestly, I'd rather be here than in a nursing home with workers who like me but who don't do half of what they should. ...continue reading "A difficult start"

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Fact: With healing comes pain. And I'm in a lot of pain. It makes me angry and irritable. I'm tired of it.

I am healing. The surgery incision is closing naturally and looks clean. Despite pains that shoot through it, it's healthy and progressing well.

I'm irritable and sensitive. ...continue reading "Pain and Healing"

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I'm trying not to let it eat me up. I know it'll be difficult and emotionally painful, but I don't want it to rule me.

It's funny, I picture myself dancing again. I picture myself bending down to pick up moss, walking through grass down to the water line. I can see myself functioning w just part of my leg and foot but I don't know if I'll ever get over the loss. I don't think I'll cry everyday for years or anything, but I can't see me "getting over it". I think the pain of this loss will stay but that the depression associated with it will fade into the background. ...continue reading "On losing more"

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I am not one who can handle a lot of physical stimulation. I didn't want to be touched. Movement and sound scare me. However, in a vulnerable state I have had to allow things to happen even if I didn't think I could handle it.

Since being at the hospital I've allowed people who resemble my abusers to give intimate care. I've allowed African American men and women to remove the gown, adjust my legs as needed then wipe my intimate parts in front and back. I have had full bed baths and depends changed or had procedures that required mostly nudity. I had to allow it.

From where I'm laying, I generally can't see the entire person, and I can't get up. I am vulnerable and require their clean intentions. Not a single inappropriate comment has taken place. They have been respectful and put me at ease.

At one point a Doctor was asked to wait 2 min while the Techs finished my gown because credentials don't buy rights to my dignity either. I appreciated him waiting.

I was terrified at first. Someone had their hands between my legs, spread them, and I had to allow it. I was angry. I didn't sleep a lot. But as the positive, safe experiences continued, confidence grew, with unexpected healing as a result.

Faith

Broken Faces A lot of tea sipping, a lot of sleep, that's what's been going on over here.

Anxiety is very high as are my pain levels. I've got an open sore on my leg that hasn't healed in three weeks times so I have to get more treatment for it. That doesn't worry me though maybe it should. It's just that I've not been given any kind of off colored diagnosis so I'm like, it is what it is. I have Lupus, I don't heal well. It takes weeks to heal a simple wound. It would be nice if it didn't hurt so much but like I said, at this point it's just taking its own sweet time healing and hasn't morphed into something else. ...continue reading "Cuppa. Sleep. Work. I’m Better."

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