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It's been weeks since I required assistance getting in bed. It was a vulnerable, helpless feeling not being able to move. But now I can use the wheelchair so I have a measure of independence. Even if I'm in bed for the night, I want the wheelchair within my reach. My anxiety level goes really high if it's not bc I go right back to feeling helpless. I feel like a lump in the bed who can't do anything. ...continue reading "The Mighty Chair"

I've withdrawn from friends as I battle depression and discouragement. I'm easily irritated and annoyed. I'm anxious and generally uncomfortable and unhappy. However, I'm working hard to manage these feelings so I can stay on the road to recovery.

There isn't just one thing I can point to and say, This is the problem. It's the situation, the foot, lack of independence and feeling like I don't have control of my life. This is so big. I swear I just want to run from it all.

My last surgery needed is May 7th at 11am. Despite it being an amputation surgery, I won't be fully put under. They're going to use a nerve block and meds to relax me. Because things change so much, I'd rather just post the date and surgery, let it happen then talk about it more. Soooo, surgery May 7th w details to come. ...continue reading "Battling Fear"


Its your voice I'm listening for
The gentle tone that brushes against the walls of my mind
Sweeping away conclusions drawn
And patterns formed
When I was left on my own
Inside my head,
Behind this desperate divide.

It's your voice my heart yearns to hear
Tuned to deep vibrations that spell out promises you will not fail to keep. ...continue reading "Listen"


Here's a shot of my frog infuser and plants in the window in my room.
After physical therapy I retreat to the plant and tea spot for a little quiet time. I look forward to seeing these get bigger. My hope is to add a peace lilly to the group, then I'll be finished with the collection. I figure I'll spend a few bucks on that w zero guilt for the splurge.

Six or seven different plants came in one planter. I took them out and repotted them. Now I'm waiting for them to snap back and take off growing. The small pot of lambs ear I snagged from outside. I probably won't keep it.



Today in physical therapy I stood up on my left leg. I wasn't happy or excited. I was incomplete.

What I want is to put my off brand Converse tennis shoes on BOTH feet, grab my cup of Earl Gray and walk back into the life I had. That is complete, that is what I want.

I also want it to be untrue that it would take 2 years to walk again.

I'm sorry that I'm not all thrilled that I stood up. I do feel appreciative for what was done for me and what is being done. It's not that at all. I'm grateful, but I'm also saddened by the loss. What time has there been to take in just how devastating the last few months have been? I've been counting my blessings because I narrowly lived, because I beat amazing odds. But I have not really digested much else. Now that the dust is settling I feel the weight of loss. That weight is heavy whether I stand on one leg or lay here punching letters on the screen. The loss is substantial, and it hurts.


Dear Head,

We aren't friends today. Your behavior has divided us, putting a rift and a scar in an already shakey relationship. At this very second I can't tell the world all you've done because my body is attacking me with the strongest sleep spell I've ever felt. This half awake, druling, snoring, head bobbing, heavy eyed fight has been lost. I'm captive with no choice but to surrender. However, when I'm released, I'm going to tell them everything. I'm going to spill my guts and tell the world how you, brain, tried your best to depress, discourage and break me. I'm going to tell them everything as soon as my body releases me.

Lupus fatigue & depression, bites.


My wounds aren't pretty. At one time I saw huge boils on my feet and ankles. I saw my feet turn black and the skin slip off. I saw my toes painted with medicine that turned them reddish-brown and intensified the horror. And yet there is beauty in it all. How can there be beauty in blackened toes and top layer skin that has died? Because I'm healing.

I've even photographed from the beginning to now, boils and all, and new skin under the dead where the boils used to be. I have photo proof that my Designer created me to heal. Despite flinching at horror show type wounds, the stuff of Hollywood, I see beauty in my design and agree that I am wonderfully made.

I got a different wheelchair two days ago that is easier to use than the other. I can get myself around so much better. It seems in the chair I have a need for a security blanket over my legs. I have a feeling small afghans and I will have a special relationship from here on out. I feel more hidden, less self-conscious with a small blanket over my legs. ...continue reading "Wonderfully made. It’s complicated."


I feel fear more than anything else. I'm afraid of the pain, afraid of vulnerability, helplessness and being left alone for long periods of time. I fear what I can't do such a get up on my own. Every time they put the wheelchair beside the bed and have me sit to get in it, there's a feeling of dread. I dread trying to move legs I can't feel.

I fear falling. I fear angering people who may take advantage of my vulnerable state and hurt me physically.
I do my best not to be ruled by these fears but I certainly feel them. ...continue reading "Fear"


I asked the physical therapist how I'll learn to walk if I can't feel my legs. He said I'd be taught to walk in front of a mirror so I can see my legs and make the mental connection to move them.

He went all over the legs and said the correct muscles work and that I'd have to retrain my brain signals to move my legs. He said, in time, up to 2 years, I'll go from the bed to the chair, a walker then walking on my own. Of course my head got tripped up by 2 years but the bottom line is that my walking prognosis is positive.

Despite being oxygen depleted from the waste down w collapsed veins from the hip down, and the blood clot on my heart, they feel I'll make a full recovery and enjoy a strong quality of life. ...continue reading "The Hemoglobin Nightmare"


A man kept a house with several women tied up with chains. Some he broke so that they didn't try to run. He kept a lion that he fed live humans. It was the largest beast I'd ever seen.

I and another woman were caught as prey. We were in a container waiting to be eaten but I saw a way out and took it. As I escaped the grounds, the Master of the house attempted to stop me. He was furious that I tried to get away. How dare I get so far away from his traps, from his control. He was angry, offended and really wanted to the mastery over me, to throw me to the lion. I was getting away until the Mistress of the house emerged and demanded I return inside. She told me I had to go inside, I had to listen to her. The Master couldn't believe his fortune, that I'd escape the property only to willingly return at the voice of a dominate woman. He was so excited he could hardly contain himself. I woke before reentering the house.

Dr D and I discussed the dream in session today. We talked about how it feels like the Mistress is more my situation than a specific person. The Lion is the beast I face. I'm not always strong so I'm the broken woman who won't run, the new captive not yet broken and the spirit that'll find a way out. But when it's all said and done, I still have to face the Lion in yet another surgery. I'm torn and will be torn more. Parts of me are gone that I can't get back no matter who I out smart or out run. ...continue reading "DREAM : The Mouth of Lions"

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