22 October 2009

Thursday's Thoughts

First thing that comes to mind-and I'll be brief: How dare my President, Barrack Hussein O'Bama, throw out petty pot-shots to Fox News of all things, while our sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, cousins, uncles, OUR PEOPLE are methodically being picked off in Afghanistan.  Yes.  My President SITS on a request made nearly two months ago for at least 40,000 more troops...instead, chosing to attempt to freeze Fox News out of the White House press loop.  Hurray for the White House Pool, which refused to meet with the House for a press conference because they specifically excluded Fox News from the meeting. By the way, Mr. President, YOU have been President for ten months now.  Blaming former President Bush is stale. 
'Nuff said.
I attend a Bible study group on Thursday mornings.  I love the group I am with.  One of the women, an older woman, sorta bonded with me from the get go.  When I started asking the Prayer Warriors for help for myself (and believe me, I'm not used to doing that, I'm used to being the helper) she was the first one to email me and offer comfort and assistance.  I first asked for prayers when I went to the doctor and he dropped the 'C' bomb on me...you know...cancer.  I've been peeing blood for oh I don't know how long and was afraid to go to the doc.  It had been checked before, many years ago, and the doc couldn't figure anything out.  But when I went to my primary care doc this past spring and mentioned it to him he immediately tested me and ran...no walk, no fast pace...nope, he ran back to my examination room (I was standing at the door) and told me he needed to get me to a specialist immediately.  I looked at his face, which was full of worry, and asked, "More than just a little blood?" to which he answered by turning around to his tech behind the desk and told her to get doc so-and-so on the line and get me in asap.  My doc turned back to me and told me he wanted to see me again in November.  Among the multitude of problems I have, one of them is a severe vitamin D deficiency.  I'm supposed to be somewhere around 90...whatever that means.  I tested at 19.  Not good.  So along with all the other crud I'm taking I'm also taking these bionic vitamin D pills.  I restested at 35 a month and a half later (that's when this happened) and doc told me to keep taking my super D vitamins and see the specialist.  So I go see the specialist and during his initial consultation, after taking blood and various body fluids, he drops the 'C' bomb on me.  He tells me we have to rule it out. Me being me, my hearing stopped after the word cancer.  Yeah, his mouth continued to move, but I heard nothing else.  My brain immediately went into overdrive.  I thought of all the things I wanted to do and hadn't done yet.  I thought of my grandson and my girls who weren't speaking to me. I even thought I want to be buried in my blue jeans and a tee shirt!  He schedules some tests for me, and I follow him to the receptionist, still in a fog, still reeling from the 'C' bomb fallout.  Then I think of my truck.  Can I drive home? Who will take care of Komando? 
It's amazing the stuff that goes through your mind when you are suddenly faced with your mortality.  And I mean this came from left field. 
So I get in my truck and I call my estranged and the first thing he says is "You don't have that." I immediately hung up on him.  And burst into tears.  So like him.  No support whatsoever.  And why should I be surprised.  He never did support me emotionally.  It was always suck it up and get over it.  Oh, but if the shoe were on the other foot...oh my heavens. 
But that's ok. 
And I am happy to say after all the testing it comes down to having cysts on my kidneys. Which needs to be monitored but I will happily take.  And going back to S, the older woman I have sorta bonded with in Bible study, she shared her story with us.  And what an amazing, terrible, sad, heartwrenching, ultimately uplifting story it is.  We all have our stories.  S maintains when she was at the very bottom, underneath the sewage of her life, it was there, it was at that point she met Christ.  It was horribly sad yet amazingly beautiful at the same time.  As I listened to her, and shared a few details of some of the things going on in my life (I didn't go into my background...good heavens, there is enough going on right now) it dawned on me how right she was.  Now more than ever I have been leaning on my faith and He has not let me down.  He has not let me go.  In total honesty, that night in April when I attempted suicide with all the goodies I had available to me right after surgery, I should have died.  But I didn't.  Not only did I wake up at 4:30 in the morning and pissed my brains out, I went back to the medicine cabinet for a second round! Only to wake up again at 8:30 am and again piss my darn brains out.  I have never before nor since urinated as much as I did those two times.  And with all of the crud I took, I should be six feet under.  I know it is by the Grace of God that I am here, that He made me get up and get that poison out of my system, and He made me seek help.  I was angry....whoa boy was I angry that I was still alive. 
But that in itself set off a chain of events.
I wouldn't have met my neighbor, who will most likely become my room mate when my lease is up, M.  She is the sister I never got to have.  She watches over me.  She's got a deep, strong faith and is a year or two older than me.  I don't know what I'd do without M in my life. 
I wouldn't have met T. Alex.  He is my kindred kid brother.  He and I have similiar backgrounds.  His diagnoses is different from mine, but we still click.  We can, and do, talk to each other about anything. Anything.  Nothing is off the table between us.  We cry together over lost childhoods.  And we laugh together.  Over stupid stuff.  Like The Three Stooges and The Beverly Hillbillies.  T. Alex and I play together.  We get to be kids.  He is amazing.  Together we look like Mutt and Jeff.  He's 6'4 1/2" and looks like a Marine...blond hair and blue eyes.  I'm 5'5".  He can pick me up with his pinky.  We go to the park and push each other on the swings.  During the summer we got sno-cones.  He got a blue one and I got a red one.  We sat in the park and ate them, laughing at the colors our teeth and tongue were turning.  We tell each other stupid jokes...but most importantly...we LAUGH...deep, deep belly laughs.  When one of us gets going...it's on.  I'm not ticklish.  He keeps trying, but I'm just not.  He, on the other hand, is deathly ticklish EVERYWHERE.  All I have to do is barely touch is forearm.
As I finish this up The O'Reilly Factor is ending and Hannity is starting. 
My brain needs a bit of rest.

Not my will, but Thy will be done.
All of my love,
Riccie

20 October 2009

Life

Today has been a painful one.  I remember laughing at the doc and telling him he was full of horsehockey when he suggested I may have fibromyalgia.  I'd done some reading on the disease because a friend's wife has it and my research left me with more questions than answers.  I am now a convert.  Some days are better than others, and Good Lord knows there are so many out there with much worse problems than I have... but dang.  I feel like a walking arthritis experiment. 
Between that and the back surgery sometimes I think I have no chance.  Soma and Darviset have become really good friends, which I despise.  I take as little as possible, yet there are times I must succumb.  I feel weak when I have to pop pills.  I've seen so many people become so dependent on pain meds after back surgery or car accidents or (insert major catastrophe here) it scares me.  I don't want to become one of those people. In their defense, and in defense of Rush Limbaugh and his problem with oxycontin, I UNDERSTAND.  I mean, when you have pain so severe that two 10 lortabs don't even touch it, that's a problem.  The Good Lord has a way of showing me how things can always get worse when I start thinking things can't get worse.
And who am I to whine?  I'm here, I'm in one piece, I have, for the most part, a strong mind, and I am optimistic about my future.  I've incorporated my business which is showing a lot of promise despite the so-called economic downturn, and, best of all- I have my dog Komando.  My health, ahh, not so good.  Can't have it all.  But maybe even that will straighten out.  My counselor and I were talking the other day.  I told her I feel like my life has been in super-fast-forward since January.  It's only in the last four or five weeks or so that I've actually been able to slow down a bit.  I have a roster of doctors that rivals my grandmothers before she passed away.  I've been through every sort of medical test imaginable and even some I couldn't have imagined.  Thank my Lord, through the Grace of God, I 'only' have cysts on my kidneys.  My doc still can't figure out why I'm peeing blood.  I have to be monitored because of the cysts, but I'll take that over the option.  Any day. 
And through all of this...through every scary, frightening, possible life or death test....
...not a peep from my daughters.
No Happy Easter, Mom.
No Happy Mother's Day, Mom.
No Happy Birthday, Mom.
No I'm sorry for beating the crap out of you two weeks after you had major back surgery, Mom.
No Is it cancer or not, Mom?
No How is your back, Mom?
No How are you feeling, Mom?
No What can I do for you today, Mom?
No I love you, Mom.
And yet, even now.  Even at this very moment, I would lay down my life for any one of my girls.

Without hesitation.  In a heartbeat.  Because that's what Moms do.  Love unconditionally. 

18 October 2009

Welcome Back Riccie

Short and sweet.
Riccie's back in the house.



Not my will but Thy will be done.
All my love,
Riccie