Memories of Who I Once Was

I remember (vaguely) during my junior year in high school, I was healthy, bopping through the hallowed halls of Niwot High School, on my way to Miss Hudson’s 5th period choir class with some friends, all of us sporting leg warmers, acid wash jeans, big hair, and bangle jewelry, and all of us singing this brand new #1 hit, “How Will I Know” at the top of our lungs.  Move over Belinda, Joan, and Pat!!  Whitney Houston was our new idol, and there was no denying it.  

After the recent and tragic demise of this iconic, angelic voice, I find myself reflecting on, not only my happy high school memories, but my own past issues with “substance abuse” as well.  The first 14 years of my RSDism were spent in a drug induced fog.  And, I might add, it is not a kind of fog that I would ever recommend to anyone, RSDers included.  I know that we need our drugs and meds and whatever else it takes to get us through our days, but living the last 6+ years of my life without the “fog” has given me the power and confidence to face my days differently.  Being off of the pills does not make me a stronger person, it just makes me a little more creative in my attempts to hinder the pain.  What works for one of us, doesn’t necessarily mean that it will work for all of us.  But getting out of the box and trying, and failing, and trying and failing and trying again are what make me stronger.  Thomas Edison failed numerous times before he finally had the right combination of elements to make his light bulb work for the first time.  (the actual number of times has become something of a controversy of late, so I’m just going with “numerous times.”)

I can honestly say that I have tried way more than my fair share of pills, treatments, and street drugs over the years.  Pills such as: Vicodin, Vicoprofen, Percocet, Valium, Morphine, Methadone, Xanax, Neurontin, Paxil, Amatriptiline, Zoloft, Cymbalta, Celebrex, Naprosyn, Oxycontin, Indomethacin, Prednisone, Lidocaine, and … well … those are the only ones I can remember off of the top of my head right now.  As for treatments, I’ve tried nerve blocks, physical therapy, occupational therapy, religious counseling, bio-feedback, massage therapy, acupressure, acupuncture, TENS units, psychotherapy, hypnotism, and I know I’m forgetting a few more of those too.  For some reason I feel that I need to preface my use of street drugs.  Yes, sometimes they were just fun to do, but, what started out as a little fun, quickly became stupid reasoning, and that turned to addiction.  I wanted the pain to go away.  I wanted, no, I needed a vacation from the pain and from the existence that had become my pathetic life due to the pain.  I turned to cocaine and magic mushrooms.  That turned into crack and acid.  Alcohol was mainstream as well, but legal.  After a while (7 years, give or take), I was able to back away from my own ish long enough to get myself off of the coke and psychedelics.  The pills still weren’t doing an adequate job of killing my pain though, and I found myself taking more pills… and more pills… and even more pills.  Combine that with my booze intake and I didn’t get out of bed for almost 3 years.  It hurt too damn bad, the pills and alcohol weren’t working for anything other that sleep, and on the rare occasions that I would leave my bed, the prospect of walking into doors and walls and tripping over thin air were too hazardous for my foggy brain to navigate.  I would show up to family dinners and pass out in my mashed potatoes.  When I was conscious, I resembled Lindsay Lohan’s mug shots.  My words were slurred and in a foreign language that even God couldn‘t translate, and you know how I feel about using my words.

After being intervention-ed by my parents in early June 2005, I knew it was time for a change.  The tricky part was finding a drug and alcohol rehabilitation establishment that would honor my doctor’s recommendations and warnings for weaning me off a certain percentage of the meds.  HA!!  Anyone who knows anything about rehab facilities knows that this is not possible.  Once you go in, you’re done with everything!  Cold turkey, even with a 12 Step Program, is life threatening to an RSDer and those “counselors” don’t give a rat’s butt about anything other than full sobriety and recovery.  10 days after my not-so-fun family intervention, I walked myself through the doors of my local hospital’s Psych Ward … oops!!  I’m sorry, I meant “Life Management Unit.”  I needed to be closely watched and monitored by actual medical professionals as my meds were decreased to an “acceptable” dosage and the booze was drained from my system.  My anesthesiologist was always on call, the unit shrink was always on call, and my pain management doc was in and out … more out than in, but she was around-ish.  They began my detox process and I was finding that, dt’s aside, I was feeling better … and stronger.  After 1 week on the unit, I walked into the shrink’s office and declared that I was done with ALL pills.  The woman hung her head and mumbled, “You can’t.”  Ah ha!!  She had done her homework on RSD!  But I’m kinda stubborn, if you hadn’t guessed, and said, “What do we need to do to make this happen?”  That afternoon there was a convention of doctors and nurses, and family members.  Tears were shed, cuss words were screamed, and I think I even remember a tissue box getting hurled across the room a couple of times, but the patient won!  My pain doc said that there would come a day when I would have to take a pill or two for the pain, but that would be my call.

My sobriety date is June 24, 2005 and I have not touched a drop of alcohol since.  The pain doc was right though, it took just over 9 months before I called her and told her that “that time had come.”  And what do you think happened when I swallowed that large, white pill full of 750 Vicoden ES?  Let’s just go with projectile vomit and leave it at that.  Well, that didn’t help my pain level!  My anesthesiologist suggested  a very low dose of Oxycodone … 5mg low, and I had the same damn reaction!!  But it was the lowest form of anything that had the potential of working at the time.  That was when I found my holistic path.  (this is a subject for a later date.)

What does all of this have to do with Whitney?  She went to rehab three times and, for whatever reason, couldn’t break herself free from the grip of addiction.  I never ever ever want to re-live those first 90 days of my sobriety.  I went to AA meetings and had to take a big pillow with me so that I could sit on the floor.  I was so jittery that I would bounce right off of the chairs.  It has taken a long time for me to feel comfortable in my own RSD riddled skin.  I don't ever want to have to go through all of that torment of learning those lessons again.  I now know what incites my flares, I now know what works for me when I do flare.  I now know how to prepare myself for most weather changes, and I now know how to save myself money by doing my own physical and occupational therapies at home.  I have come to rely on the fact that, even though I hate the side effects with every ounce of my being, my low dose Ketamine nasal spray will not make me do the Technicolor yawn and create more pain. My holistic meds help make my days manageable and I am still booze-free!!

I have faith that I will continue, strong, in my sobriety.  I have faith that I will not succumb to the destiny of one of my idols.  I have faith that I am on the right path for me and my RSD, and I have faith that all of my fellow RSDers will find their paths away from the fog and into a life that they will be proud to own and live … just like me!!!

If You Don't Say It, Neither Will I

Having an Invisible Illness, such as RSD is painful, stressful, depressing, enraging, and frustrating … and yet we manage to wear masks of smiles on our faces even though these are the feelings that are always paramount in our lives.  When we are finally able to muster enough strength and energy to venture out into the real world, we become forced to add “suffering at hands of the unaware, unknowing, un-understanding, un-attention-paying public” to that list.  Go to my Facebook page and look at my pictures!!  Do I look sick?  No, not always, because the days that do look sick, I don’t leave my hermetically sealed bubble so that no one sees what I have to go through.  It is really hard to feel all of this pain AND endure the pathetically sympathetic, or questioning glances from the rest of the world.  Please make yourselves aware of the contributing factors/WORDS that do add to our pain.  We know that you mean well (for the most part) but there are certain phrases that are worse than the sound of nails on a chalkboard … and, by the way, that sound increases our pain levels too.

So here we go.  This is a partial list of common phrases and questions to which we, the RSDers and RSD Caretakers, are subjected every time we, the RSDers, cross our own thresholds and embark on a journey outside of our own protective walls.  I am also supplying the responses that we could, quite possibly, use on the spewer.  RSDers, feel free to use my responses for yourselves, if you‘d like.  Normies, be conscious of your words, please.  Be supportive of us and our caregivers, because they don’t like having to answer these statements and questions either.  Being thoughtful of your words can save a lot of people a lot of heartache as well as physical and emotional pain.  (RSDers, feel free to change the words to better fit your situation.)  


~ but you don’t look sick ~ “…and when we first met, I didn’t think that you looked like a jerk!”

~ everybody gets tired ~ “Yes they do, but most ’everybody’ can sleep when they are tired.  I can’t.  Now BACK OFF!!”

~ you’re just having a bad day ~ “…and you just made it worse.  Thanks!!”

~ it must be nice to not having to go to work ~ “Tell you what, I’ll go to work for you today and you can deal with the pain that I’m feeling in my body.  It’ll only be for 8 hours or so.  I’m sure you can handle it.”

~ I wish I had time to take a nap ~ “I could hit you over the head with a 2x4 to oblige you.”

~ what do you have to be depressed about? ~ “Idiotic, sophomoric, inconsiderate people like you who still have full use of your bodies!”

~ if you’d just get out more… ~ “It takes me 2 days to rest my body and prepare for an outing, and then it takes 2-3 days for me to recover from that outing.  So … in 2 days I’ll be showing up at your door to open a can of Whoop A$$ just for you.  And I will willingly subject myself to the recovery time afterward!”

~ you can’t park in that handicap spot ~ “See that handicap placard hanging from my rearview mirror?  It says that I can.  Now please back up so that I can get my cane out of my car and slowly make my way into the store.  Have a nice day.”

~ you’re just getting older ~ “And you’re just getting to be a prick.”

~ if you’d just get more exercise… ~ “I would love to be able to exercise!  Will you go with me, carry me into the gym, and help me get from machine to machine?  And then will you take me to the Emergency Room as soon as we’re done ... and stay with me for 3 hours and watch while I get 9 inch needles stuck into my neck, back and groin area?”

~ it can’t be that bad ~ “You're right!  It’s not!  It’s worse!”

~ it’s all in your head ~ “…and our friendship is all in your head!  Buh Bye!”

~ you’re just depressed ~ “Great!  So when I beat you senseless with my cane, I can use the “insanity” defense.  Thanks!”

~ there are people worse off than you ~ “I’m sure there are … somewhere.”

~ you’ll just have to tough it out ~ “I would pay money to see you have to tough this out for just 1 day.  If you survive that day without going stark raving mad, I’ll pay up and shut up.  Until then, I‘ll just keep hangin' tough, 24/7, so that you don‘t have to see what it‘s really like.”

~ you just need a more positive attitude ~ “What, my <bleep>ing Pollyanna attitude isn’t <bleep>ing good enough for the likes of your sorry @$$?” ... or ... "After a statement like that, my positive attitude tells me to walk away and pretend I didn't hear you say that."

~ this, too, shall pass ~ “Really??  Since there’s no cure yet, when???”

~ you don’t seem like you’re in pain ~ “And the Academy Award for Best Impersonation of a Healthy Person goes to … … … ME!!”

~ …but you’re always happy and smiling ~ “Just because the sun is shining, is it always warm outside?”

~ can’t they just cut the nerve out that’s causing the pain? ~ “That would be great, wouldn’t it?  But then I wouldn’t have a single nerve left for you to jump on!”

~ you’ll grow out of it ~ “I didn’t realize that you graduated from Johns Hopkins.  That’s valedictorian speech material right there!”

~ I read about this new pill that cures RSD, it’s just not available in the States ~  “There is NO cure for RSD anywhere!  In fact, there are over 5 million sufferers worldwide and only 2 million of them are in the States.  So why haven’t the other 3+ million been cured yet?”

I have faith that someday the Normies of the world will realize that not all pains and afflictions are visible.  I have faith that RSDers and RSD Caretakers will stand up against these insolent, hurtful phrases and regain a certain amount of self-confidence and independence.  We are fighting the pain and the clock to raise awareness so that we need not feel the depreciation value of hurtful words that are meant with "good" intentions.  Spread Awareness PLEASE!!  We need it desperately!!

Decisions, Decisions

Ugh … I think I hate making decisions for a while ... again.  Life is full of choices, but when you’re an RSDer, your options change because your needs have changed.  For instance, I’m tired and I hurt, so I need to lie down.  There is no choice there.  It’s a necessity right now.  When Normies need to lie down, it’s to sleep.  If I take a nap during the day, my already messed up night schedule gets even more messed up.  1 hour of day sleep, regardless of time of day, will cost me 2 or more hours of night sleep.  Considering that I only average 4 hours of non-consecutive sleep at night, napping is not a choice for me either.  The choice I get to make is what to do with my mind while I lie here at the Oasis, nearly motionless and needing to stay awake.  I have my spiral notebook and a pen, my book “Clockwork Angel,” my iPhone, and the tv remote, all within a crippled arm’s reach.  These are my choices.  (My coffee, my heating pad, my meds, and my girl are not choices, those are extensions of my being.)

Oh goody!!  Now you get to see how I have to weigh even the most basic of decisions!!  

Option 1: notebook and pen … 1st of all, how is my right hand feeling today?  Do I think it can hold on to a padded pen or pencil?  Since I’m lying down, I would need to use the clipboard to brace the notebook.  Do my thighs feel like they could handle the pressure of the clipboard and the scratching vibrations of my padded pen on the paper?  Answer: My right hand is achy and a little swollen from last night’s bout with a localized hive-session, so holding a padded pen would be added pain that I don’t need.  The skin on my thighs still kinda have a residual burn feeling from my last leg flare.  It’s not too bad at the moment, but it is sensitive enough to be annoying and the pressure of a clipboard resting on my thighs might reignite that flare.  So I guess I won’t be writing in my notebook.

Option 2: a hardcover copy of the book Clockwork Angel - 479 pages …  Is there enough strength in both of my hands to hold the weight of this book, or will I need to rest it on my legs?  Are my fingers feeling nimble enough to turn the pages?  Will my eyes be able to focus on the small print?  Will I be able to stay awake?  Answer: Again, my right hand is still swollen and achy so there’s no strength and no nimbleness either.  My sight, for the most part, is good, but I mentioned earlier that I’m tired.  When I’m tired and/or in extra pain, the Horner’s Syndrome that I have on the right half of my face takes over and my right eye droops, gets lazy, and can’t focus.  This might cause me to rest my eyes and I could possibly fall asleep.  So I guess I won’t be reading.

Option 3: iPhone … Can my thumbs maneuver around fast enough to play Angry Birds, Where’s My Water, Family Feud, solitaire, backgammon, Scrabble, Trivial Pursuit, Words With Friends, Tetris or bingo?  If I listen to my iTunes Pain Day play list (safe from heavy bass and drum sounds), will it make me cry out of loss again or will I fall asleep?  Answer: The thumbs that are attached to my still swollen hands are just as puffy and restricted from movement as everything else in their vicinities.  Also, I don’t feel as emotionally stable as I need to be right now, so listening to my carefully selected music might tip the scale away from my needed stability and level headedness.   So I guess I won’t be playing with my iPhone.

Option 4: tv remote with access to DirectTV … if I can just get my hands to work long enough to find a mentally stimulating documentary, tv show, or movie, I can put the remote down and sail into my imagination and quench my thirst for knowledge.  Let me just tell you now that there are too many absolutely pointless talk shows and infomercials and interviews out there today.  I need to be informed, not freaked out and disgusted and embarrassed for the idiots that don’t know how to shut up on live tv.  That is not relaxing for me.  AARRGGHH … now I am exhausted from all of that conscious cognitive bullcrap ... and a little re-stressed over my inabilities too.

So Normies, what do you have to be conscious of in order to “lie down”??  How many options do you have for this less-than-medial task??  Did you know that this is what we RSDers have to go through for each and every daily task??  And do you see how the Spoon Theory comes into play for us??  Remember, the next time you ask us to do something with you and we say “no,” it is probably not be because we don’t want to … it is, more than likely, because we are trying to decide where to use our limited energy and ability, and we would rather bathe to wash off the stinky remnants of our night sweats, than be in public all stinky and gross AND in pain.  We are picking our battles/spoons … It’s not personal, it’s just how we have to live.

I have faith that one big ol smile from my Team will distract me from my decision making and my boredom … and I have faith that one kiss will break up the concentration/pain creases on my forehead.  Just knowing that this brief time of pain induced, solo-soldiering, slothishness has a specified timeframe is such a wonderful change from feeling abandoned and exiled from my own life for an unknown period of time.  I am truly blessed (and lucky as hell) to have found my Team … or, better yet (and more accurately), that he found me!!  

Temporarily Volunteering for Pertinacious Displacement

In other words, despite my health issues and nasty hatred for the Skank and her damn winter, I have willingly relocated myself for the express purpose of doing something for a brief period of time.  What is that “something,” you ask?   I am attempting the re-accumulation of implements consisting of a shallow, small oval on a long handle … aka … spoons.

Man, I love using big words … eh, let’s go with I just love to use words … period!!  For me, it’s not a snotty, snooty, contemptuous, self-promoting, over-educated, or pompous thing.  I simply love words!!  When they are used correctly, they can reveal the innermost workings of the most complex individual; they can provide the sentences for a great story; they convey a certain level of conscious intelligence; they separate us from the Neanderthals;  they comfort; they inform; they provide us with the most common means of communication; and, for those of us who can’t always use our bodies, they are our actions.

But not all words are used in a positive manner.  Some words can hurt, whether used with intent and malice, or even worse,  unintentionally.  Sadly, most people don’t pay much attention to the words that they use, so they are never conscious of the damage that they may or may not cause.  As for me, I hear the words, I know the meanings of the words, and I take these words at their meaning.  The only exception here is the use of sarcasm, but there's more of a tonal quality to it.  And I, for one, find it freaking hilarious when someone tries to be sarcastic and uses a specific word, thinking that they’re giving their statement emphasis, only to realize that they obviously do not know the meaning of the word they have just used or it's context.   (Why must I find ignorance amusing?)

I also love to make up words and coin phrases (Jennisms) that can accurately describe and/or emphasize my intended meanings, such as: Cripplympics, sofa surf board, Bodieland, and battle-picker, just to name a few.  This love of words is also why I name places and things.  Places like the Chalet, the Ranch, the Country Estate, the Happiest Place on Earth, and the Oasis have all gotten their names because I have developed some kind of emotional tie to the place.  Saying “so-and-so’s house” just sounds too impersonal and blechy to me.  Things like “Bertha” and the “Buttmobile” are just fun to name.  I have no real reason for that part of my obsession.  … hmmmm … anyway …

You’re probably asking, “What in the sam-hill-heck do words have to do with spoons?”  Am I right?  Well, lemme ‘splain …

A few months ago I was shown an article that was written by a young woman with Lupus.  (Lupus, although  having numerous differences, is like RSD in that it is a chronic pain/auto-immune disease.)  I have never been able to use my own words to accurately describe what it is like for us RSDers to get through each and every day.  I have merely referred to myself as a “battle-picker” and left it at that, thinking that there was no real way to convey what it’s like.  This woman has given my daily tasks and chores a name … Spoons.  If you are an RSDer, a caregiver, or a loved one, please … please, please, please, please take a few minutes to read her story at http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory-written-by-christine-miserandino/.  I promise that you won’t be sorry and maybe you’ll even gain a little more insight into how we are able to actually do the things that we do!!

Since the Skank took my last one, I have faith that I will re-establish my spoon collection while hibernating at the Oasis for a few days.  Meanwhile, I will continue to use my love of words to spread awareness for RSD, because words give my imagination a pain-free outlet of expression.  ;)  

Kiva Samson, reporting Live from the Chalet

Hi Ho!!  Kiva the Dawg here!!  You missed me, didn’t you?  Mommie thought that you might, so today she gave me a choice … 1) write the blog … or 2) write the blog well.  Since I know for a fact that she is the Grammar Nazi, I will be the genius mutt that I am and choose “2.”

Not that I care about it too much, but Mommie didn‘t get to go on her trip to see Auntie CaliAngel.  I was all set to receive Princess Kiva treatment from our Team for the whole weekend and I was excited!!  I really really like him.  I was gonna go to work for a day.  I was gonna go to the Oasis for a retreat.  I was gonna go to Unca D and Auntie C’s to eat human food.  And then I was gonna welcome my Mommie home with hugs and kisses and yelps and Beagle bays.  Yes, I would have missed her, but not quite so much this time.  And now, the point is moot.  (Yes, I'm a dog and I said “moot” … got a problem with it?  I didn’t think so!!)  It snowed a lot a lot on Thursday night and Mommie began to worry that she wouldn’t be able to go away.  (Mommie said there was over a foot of snow, so yes, I used “a lot” twice)  Something else happened that night too and I’m not entirely sure what it was.  All I know is that, for the time being, everything is ok, but those 2 things kept my Mommie home with our Team and me!! 

On Friday, I kept hearing the words “snow day” which, for me, meant “stay warm, dry, and home.”  Mommie did leave for a little bit and I got to take a nap with our Team in the big, brown, comfy chair.  Then she reappeared with Unca Houdini (oh how I’ve missed him!!) and I got hugs and belly rubs from him.  Mommie and our Team decided that we could still go to the Oasis for a retreat, so they packed up the car, loaded me up into the backseat and we went for a … wait for it … wait for it … wait for it … a drive!!!  I must be the luckiest dog alive, I’m telling ya!!  Cuz then yesterday, we still got go to Unca D and Auntie C’s for human food!! … and some strange movie where all of these really big, scary men with round hats kept hitting each other.   We came home to the Chalet with full bellies and leftover food (I hope I get some more human food today).

But Mommie doesn’t feel well this morning, I can tell.  I don’t think she was feeling too hot when we got home last night either.  She says it’s just “the normal stuff” but I don’t like “the normal stuff.”  After four years with my Mommie, I know that the “normal stuff” means that she hurts pretty bad.  Especially when she has to get out of bed at 3:30 in the morning because her body can’t handle the pressure and weight of the covers.  I followed her to the wetroom and saw her take the Cat-of-mine nose spray stuff from the little cupboard with the mirror on it.  That's how I know that she’s not doing too good.  She always cusses right before she sprays it up her nose, too.  I’m not sure what she says, but I know that her Mommie wouldn’t like it at all, because she always says “Sorry Mom” as soon as she’s done.   It must make her feel better though, because she was able to put on her pink robe and she stopped walking around like a creepy movie monster and started moving around like the little old ladies that I like to bark at as they walk their snacks-on-a-leash in front of the Chalet.  I only want her to feel better.  I want this RSD stuff to leave her alone.  I don't like seeing my Mommie like this ... and neither does our Team.

Well, I should probably go check on my humans now.  Mommie is sofa surfing, our Team is in Bodieland and I need to go position myself so that I can keep an eye on both of them.  I’m the dog.  That’s my job!!

I have faith (yes, even a canine can have faith, trust me!!) that Mommie will feel better later.  But if, by chance, she doesn’t, I have faith that I will take care of her to the best of my ability today until our Team gets done with work and can come take over for me.  I will kiss and hug and cuddle with her.  I will watch documentary movies with her so that her brain remains stimulated even though it hurts to move her body.  I will force her to take baby steps to the back door to let me outside so that she can keep moving and not stiffen up.  And, hopefully, I can get her to “nap” and not just “rest.”   She still has faith too … after all, she IS my Mommie!!

If you would like further information about how you can help yourself to understand more regarding how to deal with someone with chronic pain, like my Mommie and her RSD, go to:
www.wikihow.com/Understand-Someone-With-Chronic-Pain

Yes, Yes, Stress

Ah stress ... I haven't missed you!!  Really, I haven't!!  But I will handle you, as usual!!

I am not going to California today, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the 10" of snow on the ground (and the storm has only just begun).  I am seriously bummed, but family comes first ... Always!!

Last night, as I was checking the weather and airport statuses for my trip, my sister, brother and I received a mass text from Mom.  (you really gotta love how my family communicates!!  but hey, at least we communicate!!)  The text said that, "unbeknownst to her" (yes, direct quote) Dad had been having minor chest pains for a few days.  Really??  And he didn't tell anyone??  Noooooo!!  (duh!!)  She got him in to the doctor's office, where they were told to head on over to the hospital to be admitted.  The doc wanted to keep an eye on him overnight.  (At this point, Dad's biggest concern was what the CU/Oregon St. score was ... and having a beer.)  They will be running tests on him today to determine the cause and the prognosis.  (side note: I just received an email from him saying "good morning."  that's all.  nothing else.  poor guy is lonely, bored, and trapped ... not a good combo for my old man!!)

Houdini freaked out, for lack of a better term (he's kind of a drama king, but we still love him), and drove from Denver to our local hospital last night ... in the snow storm.  The Bombshell and I traded texts for the better part the night, absolutely not amazed in the least that Dad kept this to himself.  But she was ready to hop in the car and start driving from KC ... until we checked road conditions along I-70.  It is so hard to have her so far away and separated by a storm!!  She and I have learned how to tag-team the family over the years and without her, I have no one with whom I can tag or vent to without explanation.  Needless to say, I am charging my iPhone to full capacity right now, ready to update her ... and the rest of the praying masses.

Let's take a different perspective for a minute ... This is supposed to be the biggest snow storm of the millennium, dumping anywhere from 12"-24" of snow along the front range.  I have already mentioned that I've been feeling it in my bones for days, and now the cold is trying to cause a skin flare.  Aaaaaand my dad is in the hospital.  But I will keep fighting, keep persevering, and continue to be present for my family.  Warning: when this storm and family stress have subsided, I'm gonna collapse.  It's just how I operate.  I will push and push and push myself until the stress wanes, and as soon as I let my guard down for 1 minute, the pain will take over and force me to deal with it.  I'll be ready for it, but my "team" will be in for a roller coaster ride of snarky patheticness.

I have faith that Dad will be ok and Houdini will chill out.  I have faith that the Bombshell will do everything in her power to try to get here, but will be denied travel by the Skank.  I also have faith that Mom will be Mom and her strength will resonate thru all of us.  Time for me to submerge myself under the razor sharp pelts of the shower so I can be there for my fam!!  HAPPY SNOW DAY!!  (meh!!)

Sanctuary NOW!!

It would appear that the Skank has declared a personal war against me.  It couldn't be because of her nickname, could it??  Nah ... I didn't think so!!  (Skank = Mother Nature, in case you're late to the party!!)  I'm serious about that statement though.  I have a date with a plane tomorrow, bound for the sunny skies and tanned beaches of Southern California, and according to my local meteorologist, we're looking at anywhere from 8"-18" of that nasty, white, cold, frozen crap here along the front range, starting at 2 pm this afternoon.  Freaking seriously???  I finally get a vacay on the books and she thinks that she can deny me my CaliAngel and the beach??  WHAT THE FUUUU...(sorry mom)...

No, I'm not bitter ... I'm pissed!!  And not just because she's jerking me around with my trip!!  I've been feeling this shitake for the last 2 days.  The turning forks that vaguely resemble my skeletal system have been ringing like the bells of Notre Dame.  What's worse is that I can totally identify with Quasimodo's screamings of "sanctuary" as he vibrates back and forth between the damn bells!!  I am really trying to keep my composure but this has all of the feelings/makings of one nasty-@$$ "storm from hell".  (I don't have to apologize to my mom for that one ... it's her quote from this morning!!)  I've been trying to finish laundry all morning but I find myself having to make 6-7 trips per load.  It hurts too much to carry the laundry basket and I'm lucky if I can carry 4 pieces of clothing at a time, to and from the washer and dryer ... and then all of those trips make my feet even more sensitive than they already were.  So I have positioned my laptop at my kitchen table once again (1/2 way between the washer/dryer and my sofa surf board) so that I can have a resting place but still keep moving.

How in the sam-hill-heck am I supposed to stay positive when my mental and physical well-being is at stake??  I'm trying, but ... son of a motherless goat, it's tough!!  Maybe if I give myself permission to breakdown for an hour or so, just to regroup and refocus, I can get back on my Pollyanna track again.  Yeah, that's exactly what I think I'll do!!

I have faith that regardless of whether or not I am able to get to Cali, I will accept my fate ... either with a smile (Cali) or a bad attitude (CO), I will accept it.