I must start blogging again. I don’t keep a journal. I don’t scrapbook. Blogging does both of those things for me and serves to keep people involved in our lives if they are so inclined. But I always feel like I must provide context when there’s been a huge blob of silence, cuz obviously there’s a darn good reason for it and if you care enough to be reading, you probably care enough to want to know what’s been going on. I’ll throw in some pics of the last 3 months amidst the dialogue cuz blogs are always way better with pictures.
(We took a day trip to Port Townsend.)
So here’s the deal as succinctly as I can put it (which isn’t succinct at all–I’m completely unable to be succinct).
2013 we dubbed the Year of the Bladder. And we named my bladder- The Admiral, as we feel he should get the respect he deserves. When you feel like you’ve got to pee all the time, you’d be surprised just how much you respect the way things are supposed to work and the ability to think about anything other than peeing. In December of 2012, I had developed a bladder infection, and I spent the entire year and into 2014 feeling like I had a bladder infection. (and things still aren’t normal yet). 2014, we innocently thought, would be better. It had to be better. It had to be better than feeling like you’ve had a bladder infection for an entire year.
(The boys successfully removed 33 yr old shrubs and planted brand spanking new ones.)
And in some ways it has been better. The Admiral issues continue to plague me, though much better than they were last year, and then in March of this year, a new friend joined the group- Murgatroyd the Mass. As in “Heavens to Murgatroyd!” This led to ultrasounds, biopsies, an MRI-all fun stuff. Thanks to a less than perfect medical system, it was after 12 weeks of waiting to find out if we were dealing with cancer, that Murgatroyd was declared a fibroid..she’s just located in a not-so-normal place.
In a follow up appointment concerning Murgatroyd, two more joined my party: a Chronic Fatigue AND Fibromyalgia diagnosis. This completely explains the last 2 years of aching joints, shooting pain, not being able to walk, etc., and the last 10 years of not being able to get off the couch. (former doc just blew it off as you’re homeschooling, you’re supposed to be tired, there’s nothing wrong with you.) There’s nothing we can do about either the fibro or the chronic fatigue, but at least now I know I’m not crazy. Quirky, eccentric, simple, but not crazy. And believe me, you really truly believe that you’ve lost it when you can’t get the docs to acknowledge there’s a problem when you’re quite literally not functioning day to day.
(We’ve had a gorgeous summer.)
Then I got a job. The perfect job. At a cute little yarn shop. After 3 days, I chose not to go back. It was heart breaking. It’s complicated and hard to explain and definitely not succinct, so we’ll leave it as the whole thing totally sucked.
(Mike and I planted bulbs that actually survived and bloomed.)
And all those really fun cool “summer crafts” I had my heart set on doing? None of them got done. NOT ONE. They have now become “Fun Things We Will Do Before Adrienne Turns 18 If We’re Lucky”. (I have a much better chance than saying we’re gonna get them done this month or this fall or this school year. 6 years and I have a chance. Maybe.)
(But I crocheted a blanket. Cuz sometimes that’s all you can do, crochet a little.)
I’ve clawed my way back emotionally. It was hard. It IS hard. It was a lot to deal with. And there’s a heap more that I won’t bore you with.
But now it’s a New Season. Chris and Amanda have moved back from Arizona to the Glorious Northwest. I’m managing the pain and fatigue–some days better than others. I’m learning to be a better Spec. Ed. teacher to Adrienne. I’m drawing and doodling. I’m putting together *smash* albums. It’s football season. And as Darren and Nicole have gotten dogs and ducks and are expecting sheep next week, I’ve become a Grandma to a whole little farm. I strive each day to love people the best I can and enjoy each and every day with whatever it brings to the party.
(We went to the Coupeville Arts Festival.)
And I think of my friend, K, who has been battling for her life with oral cancer for the last year. And though I’m not big on “Be happy because there are people starving in India”, when my joints are screaming at me or I’m so fatigued it physically hurts and all I can do is sit on my couch a crochet a little, I remember that K is sitting on her couch crocheting, too. And it does help me to remember that she’s breathing through a trach, living without talking or tasting or even swallowing, and yet, she is making a beautiful life, every day, the best she can while fighting to live. And that helps me to remember that I, too, have the choice to make a beautiful life in spite of the limitations that I have. Limitations that I wouldn’t choose, but have been chosen for me.
There’s so much I am grateful for. So much beautiful life that has happened the last 3 months in spite of everything icky, to tell you about. So here we go. You, me, the Admiral, Chronic Fatigue and Fibro. All of us rockin’ today the best way we can.
It’s our day. Let’s Own It.