OK so if anyone is reading this you probably think either I:
1. died
2. am sitting in a dark room drooling on myself
or
3. have lost all dexterity in my fingers
Well...none of these things are true. What is true is that the doctors finally got the medications adjusted correctly and on the morning of Sunday, July 22nd, I woke up and my brain had turned back on. I gotta tell ya, it was pretty spooky and of course, I didn't trust that it was real or that it would last but wouldn't you know it, I'M BACK! And yes that deserves all CAPS and a few exclamation points!!!!!
All that was left was to get my stamina back and thanks to the Lovely Linda, that is happening.
Speaking of the Lovely Linda...she's here...for good...not going anywhere...in the same house...with her stuff...and her fur family...and I couldn't be happier!!!!! ( I know, my use of using exclamation points is getting out of hand...deal with it.)
So...I'm making up for the 8 weeks I lost over the summer to this brain thing and reveling in the unpacking and the hanging of pictures and the being together and the fur family and wished-for-things coming to fruition.
That is all for now. Will post later to introduce you to Zoe, a Border Collie/Cocker Spaniel mix, Sophie, an Airedale Terrier and Persia, a Calico cat.
Wednesday, August 29
Thursday, June 21
Taking it in the Teeth
Dear Self,
It's me again, the neurological disease you pretend most times you don't have. I applaud your gift of denial, one you come by honestly from your mother, but I'm back and bigger and badder than I've ever been. You're going to feel like a bicycle tire pump has been inserted in your ear and a chimpanzee is jumping up and down on the handle to Calliope music. You're going to be dizzy, in pain, not able to see, fall asleep driving, throw up, not be able to turn your head or touch your chin to your chest, the pressure and pain will make it hard to sit or stand and just for fun, you'll be exhausted all the time.
Now that I have your attention, here's what's going to happen. You're going to slow down, sit still, lay down, take naps, take lots and lots of pills, drink gallons of water, constantly run to the bathroom and next week, they're going to take a picture of your brain, just to make sure I don't have a friend tap dancing in there with me. Won't that be fun? So what if the cost is the same as your monthly budget for food. Be grateful you can get this level of care, being uninsured and all.
You see I've been here all along, watching, waiting and planning my return. You were lulled into a false sense of security that the pill you took every day could keep me at bay. If you feel threatened, scared and alone, it's justified.
Sincerely,
Pseudotumor Cerebri
It's me again, the neurological disease you pretend most times you don't have. I applaud your gift of denial, one you come by honestly from your mother, but I'm back and bigger and badder than I've ever been. You're going to feel like a bicycle tire pump has been inserted in your ear and a chimpanzee is jumping up and down on the handle to Calliope music. You're going to be dizzy, in pain, not able to see, fall asleep driving, throw up, not be able to turn your head or touch your chin to your chest, the pressure and pain will make it hard to sit or stand and just for fun, you'll be exhausted all the time.
Now that I have your attention, here's what's going to happen. You're going to slow down, sit still, lay down, take naps, take lots and lots of pills, drink gallons of water, constantly run to the bathroom and next week, they're going to take a picture of your brain, just to make sure I don't have a friend tap dancing in there with me. Won't that be fun? So what if the cost is the same as your monthly budget for food. Be grateful you can get this level of care, being uninsured and all.
You see I've been here all along, watching, waiting and planning my return. You were lulled into a false sense of security that the pill you took every day could keep me at bay. If you feel threatened, scared and alone, it's justified.
Sincerely,
Pseudotumor Cerebri
Thursday, June 14
Singing for our Lives
Last Thursday night, Nashville in Harmony performed it's season finale concert, "Mosaic...Voices for Change." I was honored to be on the stage with 97 other performers whom I consider family. We were joined by 4 spoken word performance artists from Southern Word and Gregory Stallings, an inspiring young vibraphonist and son of one our members.
We left everything on the stage. In talking with several chorus members, they are still recuperating from the physical, emotional and spiritual experience.
Our message was strong, clear and challenging...today's youth needs our support more than ever, every voice counts, be a change agent in the face of adversity and do not allow bullying to continue its erosion of our community. This message was inspritational for most, but challenging and uncomfortable for others. I view their discomfort as progress. When we speak the truth with love and tenacity, it should make people who are sitting in the shadows squirm in their seats.
My greatest hope is that they'll be compelled to act for we are not only singing for our lives, but for the lives of our children.
We left everything on the stage. In talking with several chorus members, they are still recuperating from the physical, emotional and spiritual experience.
Our message was strong, clear and challenging...today's youth needs our support more than ever, every voice counts, be a change agent in the face of adversity and do not allow bullying to continue its erosion of our community. This message was inspritational for most, but challenging and uncomfortable for others. I view their discomfort as progress. When we speak the truth with love and tenacity, it should make people who are sitting in the shadows squirm in their seats.
My greatest hope is that they'll be compelled to act for we are not only singing for our lives, but for the lives of our children.
Wednesday, June 13
Back in the Saddle Again
Despite lingering doubts I may not know how to do this amy more, I think I'll get reaquainted with writing this summer...starting today. I know it's not officially summer, but close enough.
Hmm...where to start. It's good to unpack all my books and let them breathe. They've been in storage nearly 7 years. Isn't 7 years the same amount of time it takes for the body to generate a new set of taste buds? If that's just an old wive's tale, too bad, because I like the metaphor. We'll see if books taste the same or if they've taken on a deeper, more complex flavor.
A lot has happened since my last post. I had to say goodbye to Miss Mocha. Actually, I'm still saying goodbye to her every day. I thought I heard her moving around in the house last night, toenails on hardwood floors, but it wasn't her. I wanted it to be her so I sat in the dark for a long time, thinking about what it means to lose a piece of yourself and still look whole to the world. If people only knew I walk around without an arm and a leg I think they'd be kinder. I wish they would be kinder to me, to themselves, to others. Anyway, it can be a pity party in my head at times.
The lovely Linda is actively looking for a job in Nashville so one day soon, we'll get to live the life we have dreamed of. Imagine it, two women, two dogs and an uppity cat in a two bedroom house. It'll be cozy and furry and exactly as it should be.
We've just finished round two of home improvements and this little house, which was so sad when I moved in, is starting to ooze love. Friends were over last night and commented on how good it felt...yippee!!
I'm having a bit of a health concern. The neurological disease I was diagnosed with 7 years ago has reared its ugly head. I've been asymptomatic this whole time and now WHAMMO! I'm on the medication merry-go-round to see if things can get back to normal. Time will tell. They want to do an MRI to make sure there's "nothing else contributing to the symptoms." That's doctor speak for brain tumor. Fear of the unknown can make you think and do some pretty stupid thhings, so I'm sticking with my gut feeling that it's nothing more than a flair up.
Did I mention the first crop of peaches from South Carolina are in? This is something to smile about!
I think that's it for the random thoughts for now. There's a lot more to write about but I'll save it for another day...maybe tomorrow!
It's good to be back.
Hmm...where to start. It's good to unpack all my books and let them breathe. They've been in storage nearly 7 years. Isn't 7 years the same amount of time it takes for the body to generate a new set of taste buds? If that's just an old wive's tale, too bad, because I like the metaphor. We'll see if books taste the same or if they've taken on a deeper, more complex flavor.
A lot has happened since my last post. I had to say goodbye to Miss Mocha. Actually, I'm still saying goodbye to her every day. I thought I heard her moving around in the house last night, toenails on hardwood floors, but it wasn't her. I wanted it to be her so I sat in the dark for a long time, thinking about what it means to lose a piece of yourself and still look whole to the world. If people only knew I walk around without an arm and a leg I think they'd be kinder. I wish they would be kinder to me, to themselves, to others. Anyway, it can be a pity party in my head at times.
The lovely Linda is actively looking for a job in Nashville so one day soon, we'll get to live the life we have dreamed of. Imagine it, two women, two dogs and an uppity cat in a two bedroom house. It'll be cozy and furry and exactly as it should be.
We've just finished round two of home improvements and this little house, which was so sad when I moved in, is starting to ooze love. Friends were over last night and commented on how good it felt...yippee!!
I'm having a bit of a health concern. The neurological disease I was diagnosed with 7 years ago has reared its ugly head. I've been asymptomatic this whole time and now WHAMMO! I'm on the medication merry-go-round to see if things can get back to normal. Time will tell. They want to do an MRI to make sure there's "nothing else contributing to the symptoms." That's doctor speak for brain tumor. Fear of the unknown can make you think and do some pretty stupid thhings, so I'm sticking with my gut feeling that it's nothing more than a flair up.
Did I mention the first crop of peaches from South Carolina are in? This is something to smile about!
I think that's it for the random thoughts for now. There's a lot more to write about but I'll save it for another day...maybe tomorrow!
It's good to be back.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
