Here's the Skinny...

Okay, I think I have my stuff together enough to talk about what happened.

Saturday February 22nd at 5:10pm I got a frantic call from my friend J* (names changed to protect anyone who cares to be protected). He says he can't get ahold of his roommate, Joe, and asks if I can pop over to the house to check in on him. I say no problem, thinking it was no biggy and he was probably asleep on the couch or his phone was broken or something. I drove over, thinking it would be a quick trip.

J* was on the phone with me when I pulled up. Before I pounded on the door, he said "Mer, this could be really bad... Make sure you make your presence known as you go in the house... There are guns in the house." You'd think I would have hesitated or thought differently or whatever, but I just did the usual Meredith "Dude, no worries, it'll be fine!" And pounded on the door.

No answer.

Went to the back door and pounded.

No answer.

I got the spare key out and opened the back door, yelling for Joe (the roommate). No response, but I could hear the dog going ape shit further back in the house. I walked slowly, continuously calling for Joe. No response. I came around the corner.

And that's when I saw him. Joe was propped up comfortably. Almost casual looking... Except that half of his face was missing. He had killed himself with a shotgun and it was a pretty brutal scene. I was still on the phone with J* when I found him, and to hear the anguish in his voice as I told him his best friend was gone... It broke my heart.

In that moment, I realized that nothing would ever be the same. I walked back into the kitchen and started to make a list. I wrote down the address as I knew I wouldn't be able to remember it off the top of my head. I also wrote "911" at the top, as I knew I had to call them too. Thing is... I was so disoriented I wrote 919... But I quickly crossed it off and wrote it correctly. Police were called at 5:36pm.

The next several hours were a blur. The police had me wait in my car, asking me questions I didn't know the answers to. I had to wait the entire time as I agreed to take the animals out of the house (J* was on vacation, the animals couldn't be left in the house). So I stayed. The entire time. The Medical Examiner finally showed up and did their investigation. After Joe was removed, I called D* to tell her the horrific news... and to ask for her help. I knew I was just about maxed out on my emotional stability, and catching cats was going to be the end of me. I went back into the house to assess the damage... I had asked the ME to pick up as much of the brain matter off the floor as they could. They said they would, but I wanted to make sure. They did a decent job removing the chunks, but it isn't their job to clean. I just wanted to immediately start cleaning, but I just stood there and stared at where Joe had been. Marveled at the splatter pattern. I knew it was out of my capability (Blood born pathogens and all).

D* really helped me keep it together. She's pretty freaking amazing.

So now here we are in present day. I'm trying so hard not to let it bother me. I've been counselor to many people about the incident, but I've lost J*. He's hurting so much and I can feel it. I reached out to him and he warned me that he was going to lose interest in everything, including me. I literally sobbed and begged him not to cut me out... In a later conversation, he said that he was avoiding conversations and people that remind him of Joe. Unfortunately I am sort of standing right in the middle of that shit storm in his mind. I told him that I would stand as far back as he needed me to. He said he would let me know. He's moving to AZ soon and then he'll be gone forever. And all I'll have left of our friendship is the memory of seeing his best friend blown to smithereens... and knowing that seeing and speaking to me causes him pain.

It sucks.

SO. To my dearly beloved friends who keep tabs on me via this blog... Please do not take my standoffishness personally. You all know that I will give my life for the people I love... For my friends. I took a bullet that day, guys. I gave up a piece of me that I know I will never get back. I don't regret it. I'm glad it was me. I know we all say we would do anything for our friends.

I've proved that I would.

I'm just reassessing things over here a little. Figuring out what my boundaries are. I'll be back up for air soon...

Day 8

Lets try this again, shall we?

Day 8

This is kinda fun!

I Dreamed A Dream...

I love this version. Haven't listened to it in a really long time. The meaning is so different now... living with a chronic illness that slowly takes away everything you love about life.

"I had a dream my life would be... So different from this hell I'm living..."

Its a high pain, low morale kind of day.





Then, on YouTube, while sifting through some of my favorite singers, I come across this gem:

 

Ok, first of all, Brian Stokes Mitchell is my favorite baritone (sorry Dad...) and this song really moved me to remember the bigger picture. Plus epic crescendo's always make my hair stand on end. In a good way.

 

 

Speaking of epic crescendo's, this one gets me every time too:

 



My favorite tenor of all time, Luciano Pavarotti. The final stance when he's singing guts out? He's saying "Vincero! Vincero! Vincero!" which in Italian sounds like "vini-cello." Translation?

I will be victorious.

 

 

 

 

I hear you universe... I hear you. Vincero!

T Minus 3 Days...

3 days until the fusion commences... and of course I get a wicked outer ear infection. I swear I need to do something about my OCD ear cleaning fetish. I started antibiotics yesterday and just have my fingers crossed it will be cleared up enough by Thursday for us to move forward. I've been taking Tylenol and alternating hot and cold compresses. I've also been using garlic oil drops. Stinks like crazy, but is pretty soothing too. Ready for that nonsense to calm right on down.

Ugh.

Fusion It Is

June 27th I go back under the knife, hopefully for the last time for this body part. I can't believe my surgery is only 10 days away. I'm a little excited, but mostly terrified right now. I made the mistake of researching the surgery further and watched a video of an actual procedure.

This is going to hurt so bad initially... So bad...

I'm sitting here trying not to cry at the moment. I'm just feeling so overwhelmed, yet I feel like I can't say anything to anyone. I've hinted that I'm nervous to family and friends... but this is more than just nervous. This is it. This is the absolute end of my massage career. There is no turning back after this surgery. Granted I can't do massage NOW, but with my wrist fused, I have to look at alternatives to everything going forward.

Driving (won't be so bad, I drive that way now)
Eating (will be tricky. Try cutting your food with one hand immobile at the wrist...)
Typing (until my hand is fused AND I can pronate my hand again, I'll be typing one handed.)
Showering (I HATE bathing with a garbage bag on my arm... but it is what it is.)
Grooming (since my elbow will also be immobilized during the cast process, my hair will be an absolute mess. Which reminds me... I should think about dying it next week so I don't have horrible roots right away)

I'm nervous.

Another Surgery?

Saw the Orth. Dr today. They took x-rays of both my wrists. The right one looks good - I have a pinched nerve from sleeping on the couch with my arm curled under me. I just have to sleep with it straight and it should clear up.

 

My left hand is a whole other story. She said the xrays were "ugly." The carpal bones are all twisted around and not sitting right. One of the bones that is supposed to sit in a little "socket" isn't even close. SHOCKER! But she said my options are few. Either leave it alone, or fuse the wrist. If we leave it, the wrist will remain unstable and will cause me pain for the rest of my life. It's not going to "get better" on it's own. It just is what it is. With the surgery, my wrist will be ridged, and basically stuck in the same position as when I wear my wrist brace. So I'll still be able to flip my hand over, type, etc... I just won't be able to flop my hand up and down (which I currently can't do anyways).

 

The surgery would be pretty brutal. Longer incision and some permanent hardware. They would strip all of my cartilage off my wrist bones and break a couple to promote bone growth. Then they would all just grow together. It would be similar to the first wrist surgery as far as post-op. It would be out patient and I would have another pain pump post op. Cast for 6-8 weeks and that's it.

 

Maybe I'm crazy, but I'm leaning towards surgery, and sooner as opposed to later. I know it would be another summer in a cast, but with the fusion, I should be able to be WAY more hands on with the kids - as I won't be guarding that wrist and my pain will become zero after the bones heal.

 

Decisions Decisions...

Taking a Step in Any Direction

I'm completely at a crossroads in my life right now. So I took a step. I don't know if it was in the right direction, but it was a step in ANY direction. And now that I've taken it, I'm glad. Glad and freaking the heck out. But it was a step... and I can't be in limbo any longer. I can't hide or lie or pretend to feel something I don't. I had no freaking idea how hard this was going to be...

But it is what it is, and I've taken a step.

The Universe Has A Frying Pan...

Ever feel like the Universe has a frying pan? And just when you're losing your shit and acting crazy, you get that *PLANG!* up the side of your head? Sometimes the universe whispers sweetly in your ear, sometimes you get the frying pan.

I was cruising around on Facebook and was struck by this quote:

"However capable and skillful an individual may be, left alone, he or she will not survive. When we are sick or very young or very old, we must depend on the support of others. There is no significant division between us and other people, because our basic natures are the same. If we wish to ensure everyone’s peace and happiness we need to cultivate a healthy respect for the diversity of our peoples and cultures, founded on an understanding of this fundamental sameness of all human beings."

~ Dalai Lama ~

 

I have such a hard time with this concept. When I'm sick or hurt I just want to be alone. Asking for help is SO HARD.

**EDIT**
A friend had this posted on his gmail chat status. The Universe is definitely talking to me today...

 

One of THOSE Days

You know the ones... Where it feels like you can't do anything right and the world knows it? That you just can't quite get a handle on what exactly you're supposed to be doing at any given moment? I'm having one of those days today. And it's not because I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing - I know exactly what I should be doing. I even have a prioritized "to do" list!

I just don't want to. Any of it.

I just want to shrug off all my responsibilities and head back up north, waving my middle finger as I go. Not helping with ANYTHING, just dumping everything at everyone else's feet and saying "here, you deal with all this - I'm done for now. Oh, you don't know how to take care of this? Well guess what, I didn't either until you initially dumped it at MY feet and asked me to take care of it. Did I bitch and complain? NO. I made some phone calls, asked some people, and FIGURED SHIT OUT without whining and complaining the whole freaking time. You know why? BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT ADULTS DO. No one is going to hand you things on a silver platter, that just isn't realistic. Sometimes you have to work hard and figure things out all on your own. Here, take all this and give it a try." (shove shove shove)

Yeah... It's one of those days. I should go outside and sit in the sun for a bit. Get my Vitamin D on and just soak it up.

Can you tell I hurt my wrist this morning? I did. Totally got bashed while trying to get a temper tantrum induced toddler dressed. It hurt. A lot. Got my wheels turning that I'm not sure how much of this I'm expected to actually take. I'm not feeling very strong right now. Quite the opposite. I've feeling exceptionally fragile and vulnerable. So I'm putting up my normal front when things are spiraling out of control... "Everything is just fine and I'm happy to just be alive!" It's a front... I'm losing control over here...

I want bacon... <3

Angry...

I've been in a pretty piss-poor mood lately. Mostly due to money woes, but also other things getting on my nerves. And in a time when words fail me, music comes to my aid.

I know I've been on a Mumford & Sons kick lately, but another song has me completely enraptured. Mostly because the sheer frustration/anger/fury is so passionately flung from their lips and instruments. I just want to crank up the volume, throw back my head and scream...

Broken Crown

Touch my mouth and hold my tongue
I'll never be your chosen one
I'll be home, safe and tucked away
You can't tempt me if I don't see the day

The pull on my flesh was just too strong
It stifled the choice and the air in my lungs
Better not to breathe than to breathe a lie
'Cause when I open my body I breathe a lie

I will not speak of your sin
There was a way out for him
The mirror shows not
Your values are all shot

But oh, my heart was flawed
I knew my weakness
So hold my hand
Consign me not to darkness

So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down
I'll never wear your broken crown
I took the road and I fucked it all away
Now in this twilight how dare you speak of grace

So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down
I'll never wear your broken crown
I took the road and I fucked it all away
Now in this twilight how dare you speak of grace

So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down
I'll never wear your broken crown
I can take the road and I can fuck it all away
But in this twilight our choices seal our fate

This song speaks to me. I've made "bad" choices, I've sinned, my values are all shot... I took the road and I fucked it all away.

Not just the lyrics, but the instrumental is amazing as well. Such an obvious outpouring of hurt and anger...

A New Focus

I registered for the Komen 3-day walk in August. It might end up being physically impossible for me to do, but damnit I'm going to try. I have to do something... I've just felt so lifeless and empty lately. I need to do something for myself that reminds me I'm alive. Not only for myself, but also for the millions of women who have fought against breast cancer.

It may not have been the "smartest" thing for me to sign up to do, given my physical limitations and emotional vulnerability at the moment... but I did it. I need a goal. Something to work towards...

One step at a time...

Hiding Doesn't Help...

Therapy Round 2 this past Monday. The session itself was pretty mild, the conversations after were a bit more indepth.

Then the 24 hours lag it takes hubby to process set in and it's been a whirl-wind since, to say the least. He's panicing, scrambling, smothering me... He doesn't understand that by doing that he is pushing me further away.

And I've been hurting. My whole body just hurts... and I'm not sure how to tell him I can't take anymore. I am having a really hard time hurting as much on the inside as I do on the outside. It's getting to be overwhelming. I can't make the physical stop or go away... I'm stuck with that for now. But I just want a break from the emotional hurt and pain too. I just want a little time away for myself to just breathe a little, regroup, find my footing again...

But even if I ask for it, I won't get it. I'll have to demand it, take it regardless of hurt feelings and tears, and power through.

This sucks.

And now he's acting like everything is fine. Hiding in plain sight...

Interesting Side Effect...

Went to couples therapy Monday night. It was originally meant to be for us to work through our issues and learning to cope with the "new normal" together. But as I was seeing the councellor separately first, it kind of morphed into what can I do to make myself more comfortable, more stress-free, and the topic of me "taking a break" from my family was discussed. I had a breakdown and told hubby all about the things I had been thinking/feeling (wanting to leave, having everything planned out should I "accidentally" parish, not feeling happy, etc) and he was actually excited to go to therapy. I was so uncomfortable the entire time I was there, but I had some very moving moments of opening up about my past relationships - of what has brought me to where I am today.

I had an enormous breakthrough of letting go of past hurts... I have always been very envious of the relationship my mother and sister have, and as long as I can remember, my mother has always said "I don't want to hear it" when I would attempt to be closer to her - to share my life with her on a deeper level. I thought for years it was something I had said or done that caused her to have no interest in a deeper relationship with me. It wasn't until this therapy session that I realized it's not because she doesn't love me - it's because she loves me so much that when I share hard times and pain, it is just too intense for her. I can empathize with that completely. Its her defense mechanism that I had been misunderstanding as lack of interest/lack of caring. I felt a great sense of relief, a weight lifted from me when it finally dawned on me.

The rest of the session wasn't quite so warm and fuzzy (not that the previous realization was what I would call warm and fuzzy to begin with)... Hubby admitted he knew I wasn't happy, that he doesn't think I've ever really been "happy," nor does he really believe I'm capable. That was hard to hear, but mostly because it's true. We talked about how I internalize EVERYTHING and never really let things out. It was good to have that acknowledged.

But the strangest thing happend on the way home. I started to hurt... All over. And intense ache through every tissue in my body. I suspect I've not only been internalizing my mental pain, but my physical as well. I was not prepared for such a flood of physical pain. I am NOT a fan of that... If opening up and being a better person means being in chronic pain all the time, I'll take being an introverted hag over the alternative any day...

Taking a Step Back

My last couple posts have seemed pretty bleak, which is appropriate, as I have been feeling that way lately. I have had more going on then just my body falling apart. My family life is a little shakey right now too. I've been trying to vocalize my needs, and I am simply not being heard. Or I'm being heard, and then deliberately ignored - which in my opinion is so much worse. I mentioned couples therapy to the hubby and he was confused. "Why would we need that?"  Oh I don't know, so that you hear and maybe acknowledge what I say? So that we can BOTH be armed with tools for coping with the "new normal?" So that we can figure out a game plan for moving forward?

In response to me leaving and spending the night at my parents the other night (again, I was not being heard or deliberately ignored) he booked a long weekend where we spent our honeymoon... A thoughtful gesture, only we are also bringing the kids, and quite frankly we don't have the money to GO on vacation right now. So not only will it not be relaxing, as I'll still have to be Mommy and watch my kids like a hawk at a water park (they can't swim yet, so my anxiety will be through the roof - plus my instability in the water is pretty bad - all my braces have to come off) but then I'll have to worry about how this is going to effect our finances for the next couple months too.

His mother brought up that she heard we were going on vacation, and that she was excited about it. I told her I wasn't so sure about it, and she looked shocked. She rattled off the list of all the fun things there are to do and I just clinched my teeth and said "You're absolutely right, Hubby and the kids are going to have a great time." She sighed heavily and said "You know Mer, sometimes you just have to go along for the ride." I got so angry, I practically shouted "No, sometimes I have to be the only fucking fiscally responsible adult in the house and it is utterly exhausting. If we can't afford to go to Disney in the spring with the rest of you guys, we can't afford to go on a long vacation anywhere else either! Maybe I can schedule to have our heat and electricity shut off while we're out of town, since they are about to do it anyways..." She just looked at me like I had slapped her (well, I verbally did I guess) and my sister-in-law chimed in that it was time for a topic change as the tension in the room had gone through the roof. I said I was sorry and just looked at the ground.

I am ALWAYS the bad guy.

My father-in-law quietly said after "you know, I agree with you." It was a little validating to have someone on my side, but it was also so uncomfortable being there after my little outburst. I left shortly after.

Running away on a mini vacation is not going to make "this" go away, nor is it going to make it any easier for me. And undoubtedly, Hubby will set some deadline that the house has to be "completely clean" before we go anywhere, adding additional stress to what is supposed to be a fun thing. But since I'm the one saying this is a bad idea, or that we should think about rescheduling or something, I'M THE BAD GUY.

I'm not the bad guy, I'm the adult in this situation. In every situation.

I really need to take a huge step back from my life and really take a hard look at what is adding ridiculous stress to my life. If it's something I can change, I'll change it. If it's something that is unwilling to compromise or listen, maybe its time to let it go. Something has got to give, and I'm just tired of feeling like the only one who is bending/breaking.

Pity Party, Table for One Please

I used to be passionate about 4 main things in life:

1) Eating tasty food
2) Massage (giving, not receiving)
3) Sex
4) Horses

As of today, I can manage only 1/2 of one of those 4 things. Last night I dislocated my jaw. I won't get into specifics, as this isn't that kind of blog, but yeah, jaw is a wreck today because of it. If I wasn't feeling lost before, well I definitely am now!! I was once a very sexual being - I like sex (who doesn't???) and I used to be really good at it. Now I just feel broken and useless. My "usefulness" as a woman is being stripped from me, and that is heart breaking. I have been told not to have any more children for fear of either myself or the child not making it out unscathed (or alive) in the end... To have that taken away was a very hard blow. But now, to have the fun part taken away piece by piece too??

Is this a lesson, God? Are you trying to teach me to let go of control? Am I supposed to be like  Job and lose everything I have and am to prove my faithfulness to you?? Or is this something else? A not so gentle shove in my life path of which direction I am supposed to go? If that's the case, Lord, could you take the blinders off first so I can see where I'm headed, as right now it just feels like I'm being shoved off a cliff...

Asking For Help

I've never been very good at asking for help. Ever. It's just not something I'm comfortable with - which I know is just one of those ridiculous mental flaws that I have.

But now that I literally am having a hard time doing what used to be normal everyday activities, I'm finding that I can't do things alone. As much as I think I should be able to...

So today I am single parent as hubby is off in California for the weekend being a good sport. Long story - not worth explaining. It just so happens that I have just about zero food in the house and need to head to the grocery store. With both kids in tow. AND I'm having a wicked pain day today after washing ALL the dishes yesterday by myself. So I asked a buddy yesterday if he could help today. Yeah, sure, no problem. Well turns out today that he is spending the day with the new girlfriend, so he won't be available to help until after 5pm. I was hoping to be starting dinner by then... So I told him no worries, I'll ask around.

Asked newest buddy and she is repainting a room in her house today, so she won't be available. Wanted to ask super bestie, but she just got home from a work trip herself and it was her first time away from her little baby. I don't want to intrude and bug her - especially because I think she might be at work today anyways.

Now I know beggers can't be choosers, so if I want someone to help me, I really need to be flexible to their schedules. Only... it's not just me - I have my little peoples schedules to tap dance around too.

I just hate feeling rejected when I already feel low. I know it's not intentional, but yeah... This is why I don't ask for help. The rare times I do ask I try to ask in advance, then when the person I was counting on bails, I'm screwed trying to find a replacement last minute. And then I end up having to take care of shit by myself anyways. So why bother asking in the first place?

Maybe I'll call my dad. See if he can at least meet me at the house after I get home to help bring the groceries in. Or my brother...

(sigh)

I Think I Need Help

Today has been really hard. Every once in a while I'll get smacked with the idea that what I am going through isn't going away. It isn't going to "get all better." THIS is how my life is going to be.

How the hell am I supposed to cope with "this?" Granted, "this" isn't exactly new. I've been dealing with "this" nearly my whole life. But it just seems that "this" has gotten SOOO much worse in the past year. I mean really - who the hell dislocates their hand/forearm taking towels out of the drier? Who the hell tears muscle by simply being, or sneezing? Me. I do. And it's only going to get worse???

Today's depression tailspin is brought to you by a former massage client of mine. I haven't seen her in a year, and she came into the office today looking for me. She wanted to book a massage with me, and book one for her daughter and I had to inform her of my change in career.

Broke my fucking heart.

What's worse? SHE burst into tears and lamented that she could never go to another therapist - that she didn't want anyone else. God damn that was painful to hear. Amazingly validating that I did good work as a massage therapist, stab in my heart that "this" took it away from me.

I mentioned my blah-dom to my physical therapist and she gave me the name and number to her psychologist and the therapist that she sees. She strongly recommended I call them. She said that she probably understands better than anyone what this chronic illness/syndrome can do to ones mental state, and she really wants me to call them and see them before I really start to get antsy. I think I'll take her up on it.

Somethings gotta give. :-/

Ka-CHOO!

One of my kids favorite Dr Seuss books is All Because A Little Bug Went Ka-Choo. Its a whimsical story about how a tiny little bug sneezed and ultimately sets off a Rube Goldberg of catastrophe in a nearby city. One of the last pages shows a parade and a circus colliding downtown, animals and instruments everywhere. This usually illicits hysterics from the small boy - he does love silliness.

What does this have to do with anything?

Well, yesterday I went to Michael's with the fam to pick up a family craft for the afternoon. As we were checking out, I sneezed. Ka-Choo! It wasn't a very big sneeze, in fact, quite puny on the sneeze scale - but here's the thing. I hold my sneezes in. I've been told for years I'm going to hurt myself doing that.

They were right.

During said sneeze, I felt a pop... in my abdomen. My PT checked it out this morning and thinks I may have just ripped my diastasis more, but she wants me to get it checked out. So I'm going in to see my PCP this afternoon to have her mash on my tummy, to make sure I haven't created a new hernia (I already have a small umbilical hernia). From there she will be able to make a recommendation where to go next.

It REALLY hurt after I did it. To the point it doubled me over in line... and I couldn't get upright right away. I've had lingering pain that spikes when I sit up, or engage my abdominals. I also have this lingering feeling of "gotta pee" in my lower abdomen, so I may have just strained one of the ligaments that supports my bladder. I've had no issues with urination, or holding my urine, so that is fabulous! Just one more weird thing to tack on the list of bizarre-o happenings that my rheum claims is unrelated.

We shall see what the PCP says.

Fingers crossed for a strain and no more surgery!!

Wait... Disabled?? Who's Disabled??

While I was at physical therapy yesterday, I mentioned to my PT that I drive with one hand. Having only one hand that is completely attached at this point will usually do that. She asked how I steered, and I demonstrated how I do a flat palm "Dukes of Hazzard" spin around the wheel. She shook her head and pointed out how this may not be the safest way of steering my car - and she's right, one slip and I have no contact on the steering wheel. Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Tho more likely... Lawsuit, Will Robinson! Lawsuit! So she made the suggestion of getting a steering wheel knob that I can grasp with the good hand and properly maneuver my vehicle.

"And did you get the device from Bed Bath and Beyond yet that helps you open jars?" Oh yeah, I need to pick one of those up too.

So I started looking online for proper steering wheel knobs and other "assisted living devices."

And it hit me.
Like a Mack truck.



I am disabled.



This isn't going away. None of it. The rest of my life will be spent within varying forms of disability. I was always embarrassed or ashamed after a dislocation when I was younger, but the light at the end of the tunnel was that I would grow out of it. That I would have the massive reconstruction to my knees and the pain, embarrassment, and shame would go away with it.

But it didn't.

Now before anyone attacks me for being embarrassed or ashamed of my disabilities, please keep in mind that I am not embarrassed or ashamed of others who have disabilities. Not one bit.

When I was younger, I would get teased for constantly being in and out of an immobilizer for my knees. Kids can be pretty cruel, and I tried pretty damn hard to fade into the background, to fly under the radar of the "popular kids" who had previously caused so much emotional harm. Having an "invisible" affliction is HARD. People can't SEE what's wrong with you, so they either have to ask, or just make assumptions and judge. I don't look sick.

The finger splints help as a visual marker to others that something is different. Most people assume they are jewelry, but are always amazed when they ask where I got them. I haven't had a single cruel comment about them yet. But I'm bracing for it. That scared, hurt little kid in me can't help but brace for a rock that might be coming.

I know I'm rambling, and jumping around. But when learning what the "new normal" is, it can be a bumpy road. Getting out my fears, concerns, sadness, and upset/anger are all part of the grieving process of losing the "old normal" (which oddly enough wasn't all that "normal" to begin with - but I wanted it to be). It isn't easy to admit that things are different... and aren't going back to the way they were before, no matter how badly I want them to.

My PT also recommended that I seek out a counselor to talk to. She said that coping with an invisible illness can be very stressful, especially when half of the medical community will tell you it's all in your head. I may heed her advice and look into it. I'm not very good at coping. Not by myself anyways.



In other news, saw the rheum of doom this morning. He refilled my script for more PT, and prescribed a mild antidepressant in an attempt to get my sleep pattern back on track. I am cautiously optimistic that it will help me sleep better at night. The kids also picked out a memory foam mattress topper for hubby for Christmas. We put it on last night and I woke up with the least amount of pain in my hips in months. Yay. Fingers crossed the combo of new meds and new comfort in bed will be the right cocktail for more restful sleep. See? Positive outlook at the end, in spite of myself. ;)

Happy Holidays!

This time of year is always so hectic... And this year was no exception. I had a lovely holiday tho, surrounded by family and friends, and I got some pretty sweet gifts too!!

Unfortunately I did not make it through unscathed. I managed to partially tear one of the heads of my bicep. In the next couple weeks, it will either heal, or tear all the way through.

Goodie.

So other than my arm randomly trying to fall off, I had a great holiday. My little girl turns 5 tomorrow... Hard to believe she's getting so grown up so fast!