Skip to content

1

It's still a bit difficult to reach out, but I did with a friend this evening. I told her what the surgeon's prognosis is. I decided to risk and tell her that for an hour or so each morning I struggle with the feeling that it was pointless to wake up. It takes a good self talk to get up and live.

In addition to talking to myself about living, I'm trying my best to complete a few dolls that my neighbor ordered. When I went to look for my patterns I discovered they had all been thrown away back when the whole hospitalization happened. I was rather upset to lose them but I have to remember that anything that was lost to the trash is replaceable. Today I ordered new patterns. Lord knows I couldn't afford it but I went ahead and did it so I can get back to making dolls and bag holders. I don't want to put off doll making any longer.

I was able to go to the Kingdom Hall tonight. Boy was it helpful to worship in person and to see everyone. It was really good.

Here is a picture of Joey taking over my favorite blanket. Lol. Joe is very different from my old kitty Mary Jane.

Best blanket ever

I have to remember not to measure him by other pets. I just need to let his light shine without conditions. He's a good boy. He doesn't eat my plants or destroy anything. He doesn't bother me when I sleep and he uses the box without exception. He's quiet, loving, friendly and eats whatever you put in front of him. He really is a good boy. I just adore him.

Draw something mom.

It's time to sip ginger wine and go to sleep next to my furry buddy. ❤️

Faith

4

The problem with being told I'm strong is that it seems to give onlookers permission to let me be, do little, and go on as usual. I hate being told I'm strong because of all the hidden messages with it.

My doctor and I had conversation where I was asked if I really wanted to know about the true nature of this illness. She said, is it better to know than not to know? She said that at least knowing, I can be prepared. She said I'm taking it well and that I'm a strong woman. I'm strong when I can be but when strength is gone I require what everyone else requires, a friend. But if people have the idea that I'm strong at all, I'll get left. People will forget me or maybe they'll push me to the background and go on with life as usual denying that I'm falling apart because it's easier for their pain. It feels so negative. Alone. Labeled strong for the self preservation of others.' Yeah this is bad but she can do it, she can take it.' I hate being called strong.

Today I was neither strong nor weak. I just managed through some severe fatigue and a few flashbacks from the hospitalization. My CNA was here when I was lying down and the flashbacks started. I turned over and dropped a few tears because the thought of doing that ever again is heavy. It took two or three minutes of silent tears and I was able to gather myself. I cry so quietly that unless you're right beside me you may not realize it at all. The CNA didn't know a thing which is exactly the way I wanted it.

As the doctor said, knowing means I can be prepared. I can, and so can the doctors. They know what to look for. They know the signs and how bad it can quickly get. (My heart is so heavy.) So yes, it's better to know what medications, what procedures, what surgeons and what hospital should be involved. We know who will speak for me if I can't speak for myself. Most of all we know this mixed up, emotional, half broken, headstrong woman wishes to live.

Jordan

1

I saw the surgeon today. He didn't smile much at first. I always try to read him when I go in. I asked if he had bad news. I said, am I going to have to do that fight again, another excruciating, painful time? He said yes. I said, you could have given that news a little easier don't you think? He laughed. I said, do you say this with certainty? He said, yes, but your veins and blood aren't doing it right now.

Phlegmasia cerulea dolens. You vicious, evil demon.

I talked to him about the pain and he suggested cbd oil. I said, I'm ahead of you on that one. He said bc of how I clot, it's not a good idea to give me a nerve block or any of those injections. I'd have to stop taking my blood thinner for 2 days each time I needed an injection. He and I agree that I should not risk even two days off the blood thinner. He's sending me to a pain specialist with experience dealing with what I went through. Phlegmasia cerulea dolens in a patient with Lupus. I just shake my head because I have never felt more pain.

It's frightening, but Dr. L said it looks fine right now but his experience says all hell will break lose again. Until it does I have to learn to live without feeling like I have a black cloud over my head, like I'm just hanging around waiting for the other shoe to fall. Part of me wanted to know if I'd have to do it all again because I hoped the answer was no. I wanted him to say the worst was behind me. I hoped I would be a 90 yr old woman causing trouble in the nursing home because some whipersnapper snuck me in some chocolate and wine. What the heck am I supposed to do now? It's only been recent that I stopped thinking each day may be my last. I had a 'why bother' attitude, 'I'm just going to get another blood clot and die anyway.' Only recently have I stopped living like that.

What he said today is sobering but not 100% a death sentence. It feels like it because I barely survived my body the first time. I guess the plan is to keep making emotional progress, keep moving forward until whenever. I'll find a way to thrive and do so with my new furry boy, Joey.

Today I had myself a nice cry on the bed. He snuggled up to me then slept on my hip. He's beside me right now. I just love this guy.

Dr. L suggested I try cbd gel for my feet instead of the regular oil. I'll try to get it some next month.

Thank goodness for insurance. I may be upset about my out of pocket expenses but shoot, I take $17,000 a month in prescribed medication. I would be in serious trouble if I weren't well covered. My insurance pays for my nurse and CNA, too.

I believe chocolate should be covered by insurance.

Jordan

3

He's a chatter box kitty but as sweet as can be. He sleeps on my chest and purrs. He gives me little cat kisses. This is my new buddy Joey.

Joey is a tabby male, neutered and 9 yrs old. He's calm and friendly to visitors. He doesn't know a stranger. He's got big, bright green eyes and a strong purr box. I just love him, and so does my CNA.

Originally I told the owner I didn't want to adopt Joe, but I reconsider. I'm so, so happy I did.

Three doctors suggested I adopt. I didn't want to because of guilt associated with having to give up Clyde to my friend. Clyde, by the way, is very happy and having a gay old time! He's very happy, buy I grieve losing him. I feel bad that I had to give him up, like a terrible person. I'll have to work on the reality of the matter. I can't take care of Clyde. I physically can't take care of him. But does that condemn me to never adopting again? I had to! I had to get a new fur baby.

I'm not going to try to convince people of anything other than the need for fur in my life and that I think this senior cat is just what I need.

I like his speed. The boy is chill. I like that he seeks out affection and that when I get up to leave the room, he follows. He's been here a week and I'm totally in love with this boy.

Joey has zero interest in cat weed. That's sad because watching cats on cat nip is hi-larious. He does like balls with bells. And what cat can resist a woman's hair ties? He loves 'em.

My hope is that M. Joseph Austin will help with the depression and ease some of the emotional pain that has kept me boxed.

He came with the name Joey. I added Michael and my last name so that his initials are MJ just like the kitty I has for 12 yrs before she passed. Boy do I miss Mary Jane, aka MJ.

One thing about Joe is that he is declawed. Whomever declawed him removed the first digit which means like me, he's missing toes.

Faith

2

I smiled every time the doctor or nurse walked in the room. I smiled at the Radiologist, Podiatrist, Hematologist, Wound Team and the vampire, blood sucking Phlebotomist. I'm not an easy stick and hate getting my blood drawn, thus the name calling. Anyway, I smiled at them all, genuinely, because I was greatful for good care.

The partner of my outpatient Podiatrist saw me at the hospital. That doctor did the same as her partner, she did the debridement without numbing the area first. I hate that! I wonder if they've ever felt it? If so, they'd know that it hurts terribly. The other two times it was done by her partner I managed bc I couldn't feel much. This time I cried pretty hard because I felt that razor slice each time. She finally stopped. I was quite relieved. The second time she came I didn't smile at her. I couldn't.

I'm thankful to everyone from the person who cleaned my room to the CNA's who brought warm blankets. I was treated well by doctors, nurses and transportation personnel. The best way to show it was to smile and say thank you.

Thank you to the individuals who knew I was in the hospital and wished me well and offered prayers. You are very much appreciated.

Faith

4

I've been going in to see the doctor more than normal because my body is having a hard time fighting the infection. The days I've not gone in she's called. I'm also to keep a photo diary of the changes to the wound site, which I've been doing. The infected area changes in size almost daily. It is amazing to see, amazing in a frightening way.

Today the doctor said the test results show I do not have MRSA. She originally feared it, but that is not the bacterial infection we're dealing with. She said it's necessary for me to go to see a specialist who will do x-rays to look at the foot, and a doppler to look for blood clots.

I was nervous about this appointment. I keep expecting the doctor to say there's nothing more that can be done for me. I fear more pain than anything else. Pain of the infection, pain and weakness in my legs, pain of another amputation. Pain. I fear it.

I never, ever want to come close to where I was in the hospital when the pain was so bad I prayed to die! I believe that happened 3 times. Even when I didn't pray to die, when I wanted badly to pull through, I feared I'd lose my mind because of the pain. Pain felt like it broke me. It left a crack in my head and on my heart.

I see in my head the way my body swelled with 70 pounds of excruciating, excess water weight. I see in my head and remember vividly black feet that once held the most painful, huge boils. It was horrendous! I fear ever having to do anything like that again. I fear I will.

The right foot is the biggest issue. The doctor said the meds aren't working but she wants me to try another round. So, more vomiting, more insomnia, ears ringing and other super fun stuff. The specialist will most likely change treatment but for now I do round two of the same.

I see the specialist Wednesday.

I'm discouraged and fearful but still determined to keep going.

It's 4pm, my CNA is gone for the day but we put dinner in the crock pot for me. I'm having roast with potatoes, carrots and green beans. There's a nice cup of tea in my future.

Faith

4

It feels like yesterday but tomorrow it'll have been a year since the amputation. I was ok until it was time to be alone, then I fell apart.

The two people I talked to commented that I've come very far in a year. They said there's been loss but that I've made great strides. In prayer I said that what I needed was someone to grieve this loss with me, validate it, not encourage me to keep going and see the bright side. I said I needed someone to understand my tears and understand how complex it is to lose a part of yourself.

Yes, I've come a very, very long way and beat nearly impossible odds. That can't be disputed. What I have a hard time with is justifying this level of upset over half a foot missing but my grief, as confused about its validity I may be, is in fact strong if not consuming. I told my therapist that watching the foot die for a two month time period is the part I can't seem to get over. Seeing.. remembering how far my body had to be pushed for two months !!! brings tears of anguish to my eyes!! I can't be any clearer when I say that watching a limb die is worse than the amputation itself.

I'm not angry about being in a wheelchair. I knew this was part of my future bc I've been ill for years. But I miss long walks beside my dog outside! I miss my dog.

This is all so new. New pain to get used to, new eye level from a wheelchair and seeing the world, new home, different body...... Is a year long enough to adjust to such things?

Tomorrow will be a long, busy day. The carpet is getting cleaned after the water heater drained all over it. This means my little bed has to be moved as well as a few personal items and plants. It shouldn't take long but it'll be an ordeal. My nurse is coming tomorrow and I will be going to the Kingdom Hall. It's going to be a full day. I didn't plan it that way. There sure won't be much time to wallow in my thoughts, or much time to recharge mentally as I try to transition from one task to the next. Let us hope I have enough energy for all this on a potentially emotionally charged day.

Faith

See On Losing More. https://www.sundrip.com/2018/05/05/on-losing-more/ The entry before the amputation.

I've had a few quiet days at home alone because my regular CNA is out. It's been peaceful.

I hate to use words like peaceful then mention small moments with tea concerning my life, at the same time as the news reports more than 50 people have been murdered by a gunman in New Zealand.

So I'm sipping fine orchid tea from my favorite mug and my heart can't even smile. There is no peace, and there hasn't been since this early morning when I first heard about it.

After I heard the sheer volume of terror caused I did what others did. I goggled "does New Zealand have the death penalty?" No, they do not have this barbaric penalty. But right now my heart turns to barbarism and asks why he and his accomplices should live when they have changed the lives of so many people forever? Sometimes the death penalty seems right. Barbarism is what he played out on the world and I'm wondering if a News Zealand prison is harsh enough for him or should he be transferred to San Quentin in California?

I'm angry.

I think what shocks me too is that it's New Zealand. Had it been Sweden, France, G. B. London, the United States, it wouldn't leave a question mark. But, New Zealand? Really?

Active shooters are such a part of American culture that even the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses has been given instructions on what to do. When we went over active shooter information at my congregation my heart blead! The thought of someone walking into the house of my God with a weapon hurts deeper than words can express! How dare anyone ever defile a place of worship with hatred?

I shake my head to throw off understanding that some people have no respect for life and that hate is what they feed on. I shake my head.

I'm going to sip my favorite tea today and dig deep to find my inner peace. Whatever peace is in my heart, whatever calm and hopeful feeling I find, I'm going to accept because I'm going to need it. The day is early.

Faith

My heart is no longer as desperate as in my youth. I'm not willing to trade everything for a partner.

I had a long conversation with the new CNA about marrying a man I really didn't know because my heart was so desperate to be loved. I told her because it was important information to pass on. Talking about huge mistakes like that can help others not to feel so different and alienated. She kept looking at me like, Oh my goodness, but many times she could relate. That was the point, help her relate.

We talked about how much emotional abuse took place and how cruel his words were. And yet I took those blows, one after the other. I was so desperate to be loved that failing in the marriage seemed worse than the abuses I was suffering. How could I face people who already think of me as nothing and unlovable, broken? How could I endure the words of my mother and the smurk on her face? At that time I couldn't. I made the decision to stay and that decision had serious consequences.

Desperation leads the heart to do dangerous things! I stopped thinking logical and symbolically followed behind him, pledging loyalty all the way.

I was just a child when I ran into my husband, a pained child. Now I take my position as an adult and speak. I will strengthen myself and others.

Faith

1

As one can imagine, last night was rather rough. I believe I came to a pass where I refused to accept anymore stress that eats me up and spits me out.

Depression flattens me on my back, anger makes me get up and move. Last night I got up and moved. I moved past the laying in bed immobile point to trying to figure out how to get a handle on things. My first weapon is aromatherapy, lavender.

Before the bomb went off (health issues) I had a house full of smelly good things. Lavender was everywhere and it helped me quite a bit. I even had it in my carpet because I figured if I fell and was down there a bit I'd at least have comfort. I need to bring lavender back in my life in a huge way.

In recent days I've been using my lavender oil reserve in my humidifier which helps relax me very much. I've got just enough to make it through the month then I'm going to have to stock up from Amazon. I hear the NOW brand is pretty good so I thought I'd try it out. It's also in my price range. What I use on my foot is from Young Living and it isn't cheap stuff by any means. I've been getting it for $10-$15 off w/ no shipping which makes it more affordable, but I'll be dag on if I put it in the humidifier. I sometimes put too many drops in the humidifier so that even my neighbors are relaxed. lol.

I wonder if I could help my poor neighbor by accidentally putting too much Peace and Calming in the humidifier which is placed by a shared vent. Anyway! The man didn't stop screaming until 3am. I didn't get to sleep until 8am and had to be up at 10am. Hard night for sure but made easier with lavender.

Back to my own issues.....Before the health bomb I changed my sheets every Monday then spritzed them with homemade lavender spray. I used fresh lavender in water then lightly sprayed the sheets and pillows with it. I need to get back to that.

I made my own lavender infused oil which I can now do again because I've finally replaced the equipment that didn't make the move. This isn't the kind of oil I can put in my humidifier though, it's the kind that can be ingested for anxiety relief as well as used in my hair. I use a French Press to press out the lavender flowers and get that beautiful, strong scent. It's wonderful stuff.

Of course there's lavender tea. I found that lavender infused Earl Grey is wonderful. It was an accident but man I love that stuff. I also love Earl Grey with raspberry leaves.

By way of my tea collection I have an arsenal of weapons against anxiety. I remember that now and will do what needs to be done to sip and humidify my way to less stress. Lavender in many forms has it's rightful place in my weapons cache.

This isn't going to be easy. Anxiety seems at war with me. It wants to eat me up, destroy my happy spirit. Right now, I'm a bit too angry to lay down and take it.

Jordan

%d bloggers like this: