Second day in a row of a picnic on the dock for Dad. Mike brought it, just sandwiches and pie I made. As you know, when you are picnicking, the food doesn't need to be top shelf. Actually the pie was pretty good...
Dad walked about 150 feet, we rested, then back. With a walker. Just think, those of you who are like me in that when I want to get up and go pee or get a something to drink, I can. Just think if you were totally dependent on others to move you. I don't appreciate the gift of mobility. His life has shrunken. I am trying to get him energized to build up, walk, do the Physical Therapy with enthusiasm. He doesn't have the drive. He's 79, has some vascular dementia. But he could get back walking, I know it. I am trying to cut down my visits with him. I don't stay all day, don't go twice. Once a day only, get him walking, take him outside, do something interesting like checkers, bible study, or reading. I want him to want to get better, maybe I was making it too fun lying around?
Great line last night from a mediocre movie. Got me thinking. Reese Witherspoon asks a psychiatrist what is the one general advice tidbit you would tell someone who is going through anything? His answer, Decide what you want and figure out how to ask for it. How's that for a stunner?
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Life is pretty, pretty good.
Thursday, will be a day I remember always. To most of you, nothing that happened was exceptional. Ahead of time, I thought it would be easy-peasy. But it wasn't.
I had my first post-cancer mammogram and then ultrasound.
Pulled into the parking lot, to the very same spot I pulled into last April when they called me back in to tell me in person the biopsy results. Very same spot. Turned off the engine. Sat there. Thought, God I don't need you to give me a verse today to hold on to now, like I asked you for last year. I liked this morning's devotion about giving you Thanks in all things and Trusting you in all things. Right now my verse flowing through the days is, I am with you always. Matthew 28. Thank you that I am on this end of the past year....
Did I pray right then in the car for no cancer? No, because I know there is no cancer. I've been praying for that healing for a year. I prayed for the doctors and technicians to be on their best, that God give them eyes to see anything they need to, that He move their hands and that the machines work top notch. I prayed for total disclosure of anything that might need work. Honesty. Then I got out of the car.
Some of the conversations in the waiting areas were worthy of n television sit-coms. I stayed quiet, reading the latest People magazine, or playing Angry Birds Rio edition on my IPAD. One woman knew someone who had had breast cancer, talked about the treatment. Another woman had breast cancer eleven years ago, they cut it out, she didn't need chemo or radiation. Another woman knew someone who had died of breast cancer just last year. These were not what I needed to be thinking about.
Getting the mammogram, the technician asked if I was okay, should she get someone else to come in with us in case I fainted, as I was perspiring and breathing quickly. I said I would be fine, that I was understandably anxious.
We are following one cyst still, and there was a ropey spot on the right breast that we will follow. Left breast is swollen and very pink but NO CANCER!
Yippee-doodle! I was relieved, but not as jubilant as I thought I would be. Why? Could it be that I felt I was healed, so this was just confirmation? Or that I know, The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, Blessed be the Name of the Lord? Job 1. Whatever comes my way, God is still good, and He is still right with me.
Nevertheless, it was an emotional time walking through the same steps I did a year ago. Like the outcome this year MUCH BETTER!
Then to the OBGYN, because the antibiotics they tried to reduce the swelling and pinkness in my left breast with, have given me a vaginal bacterial infection, beyond fungus! Lovely. I just want to not have all these creams, pills, etc to take. Some day... I want to be thriving and healthy, not putting out fires. And I want my left breast to be not pink and swollen (it's been three months since last radiation.) Some day...
The Arimidex is still making my shoulders and hips ache. At least I think that is what makes them ache. Hands achy slightly. Yoga helps.
Played tennis this morning for the first time with people, felt great. I can't keep on my toes yet, too tiring. But I will get there. I walk 30 minutes on the elliptical now. Don't nap in the afternoons. Still meditate though. Eating healthy, fruits and veggies, little meat, whole grains. Probiotics. The body is slowly but surely getting back into shape. Love that feeling.
Mid-March is paradise here in Central Florida. This is the weather we all moved here for. I bought a hammock last week, we put it up right next to the lake. Going out, swinging slowly, looking up into the trees. Ducks and other birds enjoying the lakeside with me. Life is good. Pretty, pretty good.
I had my first post-cancer mammogram and then ultrasound.
Pulled into the parking lot, to the very same spot I pulled into last April when they called me back in to tell me in person the biopsy results. Very same spot. Turned off the engine. Sat there. Thought, God I don't need you to give me a verse today to hold on to now, like I asked you for last year. I liked this morning's devotion about giving you Thanks in all things and Trusting you in all things. Right now my verse flowing through the days is, I am with you always. Matthew 28. Thank you that I am on this end of the past year....
Did I pray right then in the car for no cancer? No, because I know there is no cancer. I've been praying for that healing for a year. I prayed for the doctors and technicians to be on their best, that God give them eyes to see anything they need to, that He move their hands and that the machines work top notch. I prayed for total disclosure of anything that might need work. Honesty. Then I got out of the car.
Some of the conversations in the waiting areas were worthy of n television sit-coms. I stayed quiet, reading the latest People magazine, or playing Angry Birds Rio edition on my IPAD. One woman knew someone who had had breast cancer, talked about the treatment. Another woman had breast cancer eleven years ago, they cut it out, she didn't need chemo or radiation. Another woman knew someone who had died of breast cancer just last year. These were not what I needed to be thinking about.
Getting the mammogram, the technician asked if I was okay, should she get someone else to come in with us in case I fainted, as I was perspiring and breathing quickly. I said I would be fine, that I was understandably anxious.
We are following one cyst still, and there was a ropey spot on the right breast that we will follow. Left breast is swollen and very pink but NO CANCER!
Yippee-doodle! I was relieved, but not as jubilant as I thought I would be. Why? Could it be that I felt I was healed, so this was just confirmation? Or that I know, The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, Blessed be the Name of the Lord? Job 1. Whatever comes my way, God is still good, and He is still right with me.
Nevertheless, it was an emotional time walking through the same steps I did a year ago. Like the outcome this year MUCH BETTER!
Then to the OBGYN, because the antibiotics they tried to reduce the swelling and pinkness in my left breast with, have given me a vaginal bacterial infection, beyond fungus! Lovely. I just want to not have all these creams, pills, etc to take. Some day... I want to be thriving and healthy, not putting out fires. And I want my left breast to be not pink and swollen (it's been three months since last radiation.) Some day...
The Arimidex is still making my shoulders and hips ache. At least I think that is what makes them ache. Hands achy slightly. Yoga helps.
Played tennis this morning for the first time with people, felt great. I can't keep on my toes yet, too tiring. But I will get there. I walk 30 minutes on the elliptical now. Don't nap in the afternoons. Still meditate though. Eating healthy, fruits and veggies, little meat, whole grains. Probiotics. The body is slowly but surely getting back into shape. Love that feeling.
Mid-March is paradise here in Central Florida. This is the weather we all moved here for. I bought a hammock last week, we put it up right next to the lake. Going out, swinging slowly, looking up into the trees. Ducks and other birds enjoying the lakeside with me. Life is good. Pretty, pretty good.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Day by day
It's been awhile. I have had some bad days, a few. I have had a handful of exceptionally wonderful days. The rest of the time, I have been tired. I tried being realistic, letting myself nap in the afternoons and only scheduling one event per day. That helped, but I was still tired.
Then Dad fell, was in hospital. You know that. He's in skilled nursing now, has been back in the ER twice with catheter not working. I was back in health crisis mode, with my father this time. Just gave myself over to it, amazed how much he needs me. He has vascular dementia, is confused and is so tired himself he looks to me to make decisions, to lead the way. I am the parent, he is the child. This is just the way it is. Trying to let him keep his dignity. Wanting to smooth the way for him, but letting him make some choices. I have wiped his behind, held his hand while they attempted to insert catheter in the ER, told nurses his bag was full, helped him up in bed, fed him food, read him verses, sang the Ode to Joy with him, slept in a chair next to him. I know what his meds are by heart, even the doses. I know when he gets his showers, how to take the foot rest off his wheelchair. These are all things I didn't need to learn for me, but I want to know for him.
The people that work with our older folks are fantastic. They are surrounded by lack of hope, sadness of what was and isn't now. The past year, as I went through healing, I knew I would get back to where I was, or even better than I was. With Dad, with anyone his age (79), it is a slow slide downward. Every fall is one notch closer to the hole. Each time you slide down, it is harder and harder to climb back up. And you don't necessarily get back to where you were. I don't think Dad will. He was in independent living a month ago before he fell. Back there is our goal,, but realistically, I hope hope hope he can get up to assisted living (out of skilled nursing.)
I was in the physical therapy studio Friday with Dad. Six days a week, six patients, two trainers, ninety minutes. It is social hour. Every one is doing their biking or arm lifting or leg lifts. One woman, tiny, white hair, frail, was crying. She just couldn't do anymore of anything. She was tired. She was sobbing. I didn't want to stare at her, but it was as if my heart could hear her heart. It was just too hard and she didn't have the strength to push and push and build back up. She was too far down that slippery slope. She just couldn't get back up.
We have wonderful medical resources to keep us going. But they don't keep all parts going at the same level. Dad has a pacemaker, which is great that his heart won't stop now. A little electric spark will zap it to get going, keep beating, when it stops. He wants to be able to stand up and walk. He wants to go pee by himself. He wants to shower by himself. He wants to hop in a car, decide to eat fried Ipswich clams and onion rings for dinner tonight. Never again.
Our older folks are truly forgotten. Why do we do this?
At lunch a few days ago, I was showing Dad photos on my phone of the bright flowers and trees blooming now in Orlando. So I also showed the gentleman sitting at the table the photos. He lives in skilled nursing, has been there for four years. Wheelchair bound, something wrong with his hands. Strokes have hindered his speech. He was seventeen when he signed up for the Marines. That was 1942. After training, he was sent to France. He also fought in Korea. You know what I will say. This guy was willing to give his life for me. And here he is, eating three meals a day, in silence, in skilled nursing. Waiting.
After seeing the woman in physical therapy sobbing, and after seeing Dad struggle to stand up from seated (which he can do now - YEAH!) I thought, it is time I get out of healing mode and move into the victory lap. So Saturday I went over to Interlachen CC, hit tennis balls against the ball machine. OH MY, you know you are on your toes a lot in tennis. And you sidestep too. I was pretty pitiful, but I did it. Then Sunday, thirty solid minutes on the elliptical. Yep, I did it. Monday yoga. Tuesday mall walking. And healthy eating from Friday on. Mostly organic. Tons of vegetables and fruits, nuts and lean protein, yogurt and cereals. Keep fruit cut up in the refrigerator. Whole Foods Green Machine fresh juice (spirulina, spinach, apples, wheat grass.) Water, water, water. Got to get weight off and muscles built up. Now is the time. Too many clothes in my closet don't fit, I refuse to buy anything bigger.
The photo - Mike with his Green Red Velvet Cake (his birthday is St. Patrick's Day). Corey came over after softball. Such a joy to see him in a good place. Returning to computer science. Who would have guessed? The path in life is not linear. Nor should it be, as we would all miss out on so much!
As for my medical status, the left breast (the one that's been busy this past year) is swollen, red, tender. Still. So I went to the radiologist, got two weeks of antibiotic. That ended a week ago, no improvement. Going to surgeon tomorrow if Dad's urologist appointment is finished in time. If not, then I must wait until Monday (surgeon is on vacation, she's coming in Wednesday for emergencies.) Left arm is currently swollen a bit. This happens on and off. Hair is growing in, about an inch long. I think it's curlier than before, more gray, less red. It's a mousy brown.
Arimidex is daily. Estrogen - zapping pill. I am so much less sore. Now it is just shoulders and hips. A few of the stitches underneath the port and basal cell scars haven't dissolved yet.
Day by day. Trust God day by day. He wants to live in each moment with me. He has tomorrow all figured out. Trust that He does. He is there already, why have fear? Such freedom living this way.
I am with you always... Matthew 28
I got angry at God the second day in Sun Valley. OH, I haven't told you about that yet have I? I DID fly out to Sun Valley, five days after Mike and Corey. My flight was diverted from Sun Valley to Twin Falls, due to snow. I didn't worry. I was so exhausted, but figured I would get to Sun Valley at some point, whether I got upset about the diversion and late night travel, or not. The second night out there, Mike's Dad's hernia was painful, one of the caregivers melted down. Long story short, he needed hernia surgery. Made that decision, nurse to be at house with caregivers for three days post surgery, communicate with doctors and Mac's entourage. I walked into the shower, just furious with God that I had come out to Sun Valley and I deserved a break. Everyone else was skiing, well Mike was doing work on his father's estate in the afternoons, but it SEEMED like everyone else was just having fun. WHY COULDN"T I? The next morning, my first thought on waking up was, THANK GOD I was out there to help Mac, that the hernia was going to be taken care of. Wow, was I glad I could help.
Thoughts feed our emotions. Got to keep a check on those thoughts.
I feel so close to normal it is wonderful. Better than I have felt in over a year. Seeing a few friends. Enjoying March in Florida. Life is pretty pretty good.
Then Dad fell, was in hospital. You know that. He's in skilled nursing now, has been back in the ER twice with catheter not working. I was back in health crisis mode, with my father this time. Just gave myself over to it, amazed how much he needs me. He has vascular dementia, is confused and is so tired himself he looks to me to make decisions, to lead the way. I am the parent, he is the child. This is just the way it is. Trying to let him keep his dignity. Wanting to smooth the way for him, but letting him make some choices. I have wiped his behind, held his hand while they attempted to insert catheter in the ER, told nurses his bag was full, helped him up in bed, fed him food, read him verses, sang the Ode to Joy with him, slept in a chair next to him. I know what his meds are by heart, even the doses. I know when he gets his showers, how to take the foot rest off his wheelchair. These are all things I didn't need to learn for me, but I want to know for him.
The people that work with our older folks are fantastic. They are surrounded by lack of hope, sadness of what was and isn't now. The past year, as I went through healing, I knew I would get back to where I was, or even better than I was. With Dad, with anyone his age (79), it is a slow slide downward. Every fall is one notch closer to the hole. Each time you slide down, it is harder and harder to climb back up. And you don't necessarily get back to where you were. I don't think Dad will. He was in independent living a month ago before he fell. Back there is our goal,, but realistically, I hope hope hope he can get up to assisted living (out of skilled nursing.)
I was in the physical therapy studio Friday with Dad. Six days a week, six patients, two trainers, ninety minutes. It is social hour. Every one is doing their biking or arm lifting or leg lifts. One woman, tiny, white hair, frail, was crying. She just couldn't do anymore of anything. She was tired. She was sobbing. I didn't want to stare at her, but it was as if my heart could hear her heart. It was just too hard and she didn't have the strength to push and push and build back up. She was too far down that slippery slope. She just couldn't get back up.
We have wonderful medical resources to keep us going. But they don't keep all parts going at the same level. Dad has a pacemaker, which is great that his heart won't stop now. A little electric spark will zap it to get going, keep beating, when it stops. He wants to be able to stand up and walk. He wants to go pee by himself. He wants to shower by himself. He wants to hop in a car, decide to eat fried Ipswich clams and onion rings for dinner tonight. Never again.
Our older folks are truly forgotten. Why do we do this?
At lunch a few days ago, I was showing Dad photos on my phone of the bright flowers and trees blooming now in Orlando. So I also showed the gentleman sitting at the table the photos. He lives in skilled nursing, has been there for four years. Wheelchair bound, something wrong with his hands. Strokes have hindered his speech. He was seventeen when he signed up for the Marines. That was 1942. After training, he was sent to France. He also fought in Korea. You know what I will say. This guy was willing to give his life for me. And here he is, eating three meals a day, in silence, in skilled nursing. Waiting.
After seeing the woman in physical therapy sobbing, and after seeing Dad struggle to stand up from seated (which he can do now - YEAH!) I thought, it is time I get out of healing mode and move into the victory lap. So Saturday I went over to Interlachen CC, hit tennis balls against the ball machine. OH MY, you know you are on your toes a lot in tennis. And you sidestep too. I was pretty pitiful, but I did it. Then Sunday, thirty solid minutes on the elliptical. Yep, I did it. Monday yoga. Tuesday mall walking. And healthy eating from Friday on. Mostly organic. Tons of vegetables and fruits, nuts and lean protein, yogurt and cereals. Keep fruit cut up in the refrigerator. Whole Foods Green Machine fresh juice (spirulina, spinach, apples, wheat grass.) Water, water, water. Got to get weight off and muscles built up. Now is the time. Too many clothes in my closet don't fit, I refuse to buy anything bigger.
The photo - Mike with his Green Red Velvet Cake (his birthday is St. Patrick's Day). Corey came over after softball. Such a joy to see him in a good place. Returning to computer science. Who would have guessed? The path in life is not linear. Nor should it be, as we would all miss out on so much!
As for my medical status, the left breast (the one that's been busy this past year) is swollen, red, tender. Still. So I went to the radiologist, got two weeks of antibiotic. That ended a week ago, no improvement. Going to surgeon tomorrow if Dad's urologist appointment is finished in time. If not, then I must wait until Monday (surgeon is on vacation, she's coming in Wednesday for emergencies.) Left arm is currently swollen a bit. This happens on and off. Hair is growing in, about an inch long. I think it's curlier than before, more gray, less red. It's a mousy brown.
Arimidex is daily. Estrogen - zapping pill. I am so much less sore. Now it is just shoulders and hips. A few of the stitches underneath the port and basal cell scars haven't dissolved yet.
Day by day. Trust God day by day. He wants to live in each moment with me. He has tomorrow all figured out. Trust that He does. He is there already, why have fear? Such freedom living this way.
I am with you always... Matthew 28
I got angry at God the second day in Sun Valley. OH, I haven't told you about that yet have I? I DID fly out to Sun Valley, five days after Mike and Corey. My flight was diverted from Sun Valley to Twin Falls, due to snow. I didn't worry. I was so exhausted, but figured I would get to Sun Valley at some point, whether I got upset about the diversion and late night travel, or not. The second night out there, Mike's Dad's hernia was painful, one of the caregivers melted down. Long story short, he needed hernia surgery. Made that decision, nurse to be at house with caregivers for three days post surgery, communicate with doctors and Mac's entourage. I walked into the shower, just furious with God that I had come out to Sun Valley and I deserved a break. Everyone else was skiing, well Mike was doing work on his father's estate in the afternoons, but it SEEMED like everyone else was just having fun. WHY COULDN"T I? The next morning, my first thought on waking up was, THANK GOD I was out there to help Mac, that the hernia was going to be taken care of. Wow, was I glad I could help.
Thoughts feed our emotions. Got to keep a check on those thoughts.
I feel so close to normal it is wonderful. Better than I have felt in over a year. Seeing a few friends. Enjoying March in Florida. Life is pretty pretty good.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Asheville
The best weekend. Went to Asheville to visit Mack and Tray, see their apartment for the first time. They moved in nine months ago! I was so tired. I am so tired of being tired. They thought out the entire weekend beautifully. So beautifully. Took such such good care of us. Tupelo Honey in downtown Asheville for the first night's dinner. Saw drumming circle (wanted to join in.) Saturday went to farm with pigs and chickens (they were so cute!) Dinner at the Biltmore (LOVED the fireplace, sat there nursing a drink.) Breakfast at a place with gluten free, freshness, care given to each item served. You know, that was all of Asheville. They love life, they appreciate the details. They have integrity in their attitude. Human scale. Humans are important. This moment is important. I loved it.
Most of all, loved seeing the home that Mack and Tray built. It was warm, comfortable. It was full of love. It was them. Oh how that warmed my heart.
Big news, they are moving to Blacksburg in May, as Mack got a great offer from Va Tech's Chemistry PhD program. YEAH! Glad I saw Asheville while they were still there... great first trip. I can do it, napping all day long. What happens when I don't nap if I am tired, the feet and left arm get swollen. Head aches, eyes itch. Throat / larynx inflames. I know.
Here's Mike waiting at the airport to come home.
Most of all, loved seeing the home that Mack and Tray built. It was warm, comfortable. It was full of love. It was them. Oh how that warmed my heart.
Big news, they are moving to Blacksburg in May, as Mack got a great offer from Va Tech's Chemistry PhD program. YEAH! Glad I saw Asheville while they were still there... great first trip. I can do it, napping all day long. What happens when I don't nap if I am tired, the feet and left arm get swollen. Head aches, eyes itch. Throat / larynx inflames. I know.
Here's Mike waiting at the airport to come home.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
What do I want?
How do you know what you want?
I can make decisions for others. I can choose critical medical paths with no hesitation. I can analyze for purchasing, spending more time on more costly decisions. I can weigh pros and cons, predicting ramifications as best as possible. And I can live with decisions I have made that were mistakes.
But how do I know what I want?
Where to have dinner, who to call, what to take on, what to drop off. How to change, how to grow.
What do I want?
When you have the world at your doorstep, whispering for you to come out and play, how do you decide which way to step?
I guess I don't have a driving passion at the moment. I am a project person, I derive much satisfaction from completing projects. But right now I am just too tired, don't have the energy.
Potential projects:
1. loose weight
2. get back in shape physically
3. get back into tennis
4. get back into golf
5. travel
6. travel with a friend
7. plan Italy trip for August
8. plan Scotland trip for September
9. do 2010 taxes
10. go through items at desk that have been accumulating for months
11. don't choose any project yet, just enjoy the days and gain energy
I can make decisions for others. I can choose critical medical paths with no hesitation. I can analyze for purchasing, spending more time on more costly decisions. I can weigh pros and cons, predicting ramifications as best as possible. And I can live with decisions I have made that were mistakes.
But how do I know what I want?
Where to have dinner, who to call, what to take on, what to drop off. How to change, how to grow.
What do I want?
When you have the world at your doorstep, whispering for you to come out and play, how do you decide which way to step?
I guess I don't have a driving passion at the moment. I am a project person, I derive much satisfaction from completing projects. But right now I am just too tired, don't have the energy.
Potential projects:
1. loose weight
2. get back in shape physically
3. get back into tennis
4. get back into golf
5. travel
6. travel with a friend
7. plan Italy trip for August
8. plan Scotland trip for September
9. do 2010 taxes
10. go through items at desk that have been accumulating for months
11. don't choose any project yet, just enjoy the days and gain energy
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Bitter waters of Marah
The water at Marah was bitter. The Israelites were brought out of slavery in Egypt, through the Red Sea, and now were in the Desert of Shur. Three days in the desert without water. They come to Marah, and water - Hallelujah! They taste it, and it's bitter. Oh man.
That's how I felt this morning. I woke up crying. I was so so tired. Dad had a pacemaker put in yesterday. I have been taking care of me, while taking care of him. I have been leaving him for an hour at lunch, getting out and walking around the lake at the hospital. I have been getting out for dinner, or like last night, staying through dinner leaving at 8 PM. Always back beside him in the mornings early, say 7:30, to be there when the various doctors come. You know caring for an elderly parent, who can't think straight. Not incompetent, just straddling the fence. It is exhausting. Helping them walk to the bathroom. Feeding them sometimes. Making sure they drink water, take their meds, making medical decisions for them.
But this blog is about me.
I woke up, with the heaviness of his sadness covering me. I want to go to Sun Valley for vacation tomorrow, but I know I can't leave Dad until he is stable. I want to feel good, to not ache in my shoulders and hips. I want to loose weight and gain hair (on my head). I want Dad to be healthy. The fragility of his health reminds me of the fragility of mine. I am scared I have cancer in me still. My left breast is still swollen and red. The right one, well, I did a self exam and I felt a little torpedo. Am I just obsessing? I have a mammogram scheduled for three weeks, the first one since last April. Am I healthy? Am I doing everything the way I should? Life is so tough. Oh, the doubts. (Get that one out of my brain right away!) They roar like lions in the still hours of the night.
And you are so isolated from your friends and everyday life going through the hospital watch. Dear ones call and bring soup and text. I am an only child, Mom died 10 years ago. So there are no siblings or spouses. My friends are still there. I just need to wait. There's a season to be with them, just not now.
I drove to the hospital thinking, I need an attitude improvement. Dad was stable, sleeping. He's not shaken the sedation from the pacemaker surgery. Can't process verbal instructions. As he was okay, I went off to the radiation oncologist in the same hospital. AHA, glad I did. I had a fever of 101.4. The nurse asked me if I felt alright. How does anyone feel after nine days of an elderly father in the hospital for his heart? I have an infection in my breast. Wow. No wonder I felt horrible.
When my kids were little, you could always tell if one of them was coming down with a cold or ear infection. They would be really really grouchy before the physical symptoms were developed enough to notice. That happened here I think. I was really grouchy. The breast infection made it so I just couldn't keep the thoughts positive anymore. Knowing this, it is so much easier to be positive now.
Came back to the room, read the bitter water at Marah story. Double WOW, that is me. I felt like I came out of Egypt just to get led to bitter water. But, if you continue on, the water gets sweeten by Moses touching it with a tree, and then they go on to a place with12 springs and 70 palms.
So, I am out of Egypt. I tasted the bitter water. The next thing I will see is the springs and the palms. YEAH! I will wait.
The day of the heart cath, I came upon a good verse for Dad.
Exodus 14:14- The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.
He hasn't stopped loving me, He knows the end of the story, and it's a good ending.
That's how I felt this morning. I woke up crying. I was so so tired. Dad had a pacemaker put in yesterday. I have been taking care of me, while taking care of him. I have been leaving him for an hour at lunch, getting out and walking around the lake at the hospital. I have been getting out for dinner, or like last night, staying through dinner leaving at 8 PM. Always back beside him in the mornings early, say 7:30, to be there when the various doctors come. You know caring for an elderly parent, who can't think straight. Not incompetent, just straddling the fence. It is exhausting. Helping them walk to the bathroom. Feeding them sometimes. Making sure they drink water, take their meds, making medical decisions for them.
But this blog is about me.
I woke up, with the heaviness of his sadness covering me. I want to go to Sun Valley for vacation tomorrow, but I know I can't leave Dad until he is stable. I want to feel good, to not ache in my shoulders and hips. I want to loose weight and gain hair (on my head). I want Dad to be healthy. The fragility of his health reminds me of the fragility of mine. I am scared I have cancer in me still. My left breast is still swollen and red. The right one, well, I did a self exam and I felt a little torpedo. Am I just obsessing? I have a mammogram scheduled for three weeks, the first one since last April. Am I healthy? Am I doing everything the way I should? Life is so tough. Oh, the doubts. (Get that one out of my brain right away!) They roar like lions in the still hours of the night.
And you are so isolated from your friends and everyday life going through the hospital watch. Dear ones call and bring soup and text. I am an only child, Mom died 10 years ago. So there are no siblings or spouses. My friends are still there. I just need to wait. There's a season to be with them, just not now.
I drove to the hospital thinking, I need an attitude improvement. Dad was stable, sleeping. He's not shaken the sedation from the pacemaker surgery. Can't process verbal instructions. As he was okay, I went off to the radiation oncologist in the same hospital. AHA, glad I did. I had a fever of 101.4. The nurse asked me if I felt alright. How does anyone feel after nine days of an elderly father in the hospital for his heart? I have an infection in my breast. Wow. No wonder I felt horrible.
When my kids were little, you could always tell if one of them was coming down with a cold or ear infection. They would be really really grouchy before the physical symptoms were developed enough to notice. That happened here I think. I was really grouchy. The breast infection made it so I just couldn't keep the thoughts positive anymore. Knowing this, it is so much easier to be positive now.
Came back to the room, read the bitter water at Marah story. Double WOW, that is me. I felt like I came out of Egypt just to get led to bitter water. But, if you continue on, the water gets sweeten by Moses touching it with a tree, and then they go on to a place with12 springs and 70 palms.
So, I am out of Egypt. I tasted the bitter water. The next thing I will see is the springs and the palms. YEAH! I will wait.
The day of the heart cath, I came upon a good verse for Dad.
Exodus 14:14- The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.
He hasn't stopped loving me, He knows the end of the story, and it's a good ending.
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