Valentines and Visions

Last night I was in the recovery room as my husband was coming out of anesthesia, he looked at me and smiled and said “I am glad.  We have been through so much and we are still here”.  And it’s true.  We have been married for a little over 10 years and known each other for 12.  Sometimes, we joke that we have been through more in our short time together than most couples in years of marriage.

I was thinking about that last night.  We have been through quite a bit.  Literally, a year after we met my father died suddenly and unexpectedly.  I was left with a mother who was in a financial mess, had dementia, though I wasn’t acknowledging it at the time and an abusive brother.  A week after my father’s funeral, my husband (we were not married at the time) was arrested at my mother’s house on old charges.  This was in the beginning of November.  In mid-December, I went for my mammogram and they found a lump in my breast.  He was still in jail, my mother was shattered. It was a false alarm.  T was released from jail at the end of January.  My brother was taking things from my mother and making abusive and threatening calls to me.  I obtained a temporary stay away.  On April 1,(not an April fool’s as some would have it)  I was told my job was being terminated.  I was relieved but I was financially responsible for my mother’s household.   T and I started going in and out of court fighting with his ex-wife over myriad issues.  Little did I know that I was about to become a regular at court, so much so that the court officers recognized me! We married. I got another job, a very good one as corporate training manager for a major retailer.  During this period,  my mother would call with problems and I would ask her if my brother couldn’t help and I was told “oh but your brother has a job and works”  Uh, he’s  a truck driver?  This put enormous strain on us.  My previous (and current employer) called and asked if I could do a project, so I started doing two jobs.  The day after I told them, it was too much for me, the retailer filed for bankruptcy and I lost my job – two in a year!   My friends teased me that I was off for the summer again!

Nightmare time.  I called my mother in the morning and she didn’t answer.  Drove over thinking she had left phone off hook or was confused because by now she had been diagnosed with dementia.  I found her on the floor with a broken leg.  Due to different factors, they couldn’t operate on her for three days nor give her painkillers.  My brother went to work.  Husband stayed with me as they operated.  Brother threatened me in nursing home when she was in recovery and nursing home went along with him.  Husband was besides himself.  We had to sell my mother’s house whilst she was alive.  You know how hard it is to dissolve your childhood home after your parents die?  Picture doing it when one of them is still alive.

The summer I lost my first job was when I had my first incident.  I was walking on the beach boardwalk and couldn’t.  Fast forward a couple of years and continued odd incidents and the doctors started.  I received my diagnosis after an inconclusive spinal tap.  Like my husband told them, when you don’t know what to call it, this is what you call it.

After I sold my mother’s house we bought a house less than 6 months later.  See, the pattern, stress and more stress.  And boys totaling cars.  The youngest did two in 24 hours.  And boys in emergency rooms…

My mum died.  What is important is that we had not been together that long. We were still in court with his ex and now also because of our issues. My husband has always had alcohol problems.  My diagnosis, death and finances set him off and we entered a series of rehab and relapse.

He was diagnosed with prostate cancer.   There were complications.

Everyone told me from when our problems started that I needed to cut my losses.  The courts, the counselors, my friends said the odds were clearly against us.  And through out all of this, I had  this vision of the two of us walking out together, arm in arm, beating the odds.  Well, it took longer than I thought or wanted.  We came through.

The last time he had an operation, I walked out on him.  Yesterday, I was there the whole time.  We are truly partners.

So, visions.  I told T last week that just as I had this vision of the two of us beating the odds,  I am picturing myself walking again, arm in arm on the beach, wearing the clothes I love, dancing, doing the things I love, no limits, no boundaries.  It’s just this vision that I am keeping in my head.

Valentines and visions.  Love.  I believe that is the root of what brought us through.  And I am going to make my new vision real.  It may not happen when I want it to happen but it will happen.

Not Inspiring

Ok, so I use the spectral leg and a cane, a very pretty one at that.  I work in New York City and commute every day.  I wake a little after 4 in the morning and am at my desk, smiling by 7:30 in the morning.  What most people do not see is the struggle sometimes to make that walk into the office.  I count that as one of the upsides of early.

I try and go to Zumba two nights a week.  It’s a class I have been going  to for several years.  And yes,  I have been able to do less and less.  But I still go. The music connects me with my mother and my family.  We played some of those songs when I was growing up.  And as a family, we always danced.

I am a person.  I am not a condition or an illness.

I hate it when people tell me I am inspiring.  With one major exception,  which I will discuss in a moment.

I hate when people say ” I don’t see how you do it.”  Again, it’s my life.  What am  I going to do, crawl into a cave of illness and defeat?  Why wouldn’t I do it?  Where is self-pity going to get me? It’s not going to help or make things better.  Ditto the “you are so brave”.  Why?  If I don’t wake up in the morning and go, what is there?  I am not brave, I am freaking terrified.  In terms of bravery there is so much more in this world to be brave about other than living a quotidian life.  I belonged to a group when this journey started and one of the women had a granddaughter who was 9 and had something wrong with her ankles.  If I remember correctly, they were disintegrating.  That’s brave.  Her family was brave and strong.  Me, getting up and living my life is not brave.

I always try and tell people when they tell me I am inspiring that I am not.  I do not live nor wish to live a poster child life.   This is my life and my reality.

Ok, there is one instance where I don’t mind as much about the inspiration thing. Yes, you  Jessica Campbell.  Check out her blog MS and Fabulous.  When it comes from someone who is going through what you are going through then it’s alright.  I am awed by Jessica.  There are people who confront these issues daily with style and true grace.  They are inspiring.  I am honored to even be thought of in that company.

I appreciate all my friends who support me and encourage me.  I am grateful for them.  I guess it’s the “outsiders” who consider my daily life inspiring.  It is not.  Choosing to live with a little mobility issue is not inspiring!

We all have issues that we confront. The ones I confront may just be more visually apparent.  And who knows?  My challenges may be so much less than what they appear.

Serious Stomach Stress and Sabotage

My first marriage was to a man, who although pleasant, had less financial sense than a 5 year old.  This wasn’t just me – his own mother was relieved we were marrying so I could take care of him.  I had lost my job and had started a business using my savings and unemployment.  He basically made less working than I did on unemployment. His idea – play Lotto.  He bought the you gotta be in it to win it ad.

Yup,  I had massive credit card debt.  One month, the bills came in, I literally doubled over and could not stand up.  I had massive pain in my stomach.  It took about two days till I could stand, do anything and of course, pay those bills.  The second month it happened, I figured out the trend.  It continued thereafter.  Usually, I could stand but could not do much of anything else.  It’s hard to read or think when you are in pain.  The marriage ended.  I cleared up the debt and it basically went away.  However, anytime I was in a stressful situation, it came back.  Mercifully, the duration was only a few hours and I have found that tea and warmth around my stomach help.

My last real bout of this was 10 years ago or so when my life started falling apart or changing.  I was seeing a counselor at the time and did manage to show up for an appointment in distress.  She suggested it could be irritable bowel or colitis.  Before I could go to the doctor, I was laid off. As I told the man who let me go “Thank you.  Summer on the beach with shells in my hair”.  No more stomach problems.

Periodically, about once a year or so, I get an “attack”, usually short-lived.

I am so much more than the condition(s) that are afflicting me.  Most times, I forget until I try to stand up or walk.   Right now, I am involved in projects at my job that not only do I enjoy but are high profile.  I do have a meeting scheduled with the top guy to present my work. I have noticed through out my working life that if things are going well or have the potential to go well, I get sick, typically a respiratory thing and/or fever.  I have never taken a final in high school or college without a fever.  I closed on my mother’s house and walked out of the offices with a 102 fever and had to go to bed for a few days.  My body knows.  So, I am working away on this presentation and putting in major time.  It’s the reason I haven’t blogged.  I felt prepared and rather calm.  Then I had two meetings and need to do more work.  Not a problem.  I have been house bound due to the weather.  Oh yeah, the other night, whammo!  My stomach thing hit full force.  I was grey, perspiring, in intense pain, the kind where every time you move and every way you move, hurts.  I knew exactly where it was coming from.  My body was telling me that I could not move forward and do this.  I couldn’t work.  I couldn’t think, I couldn’t sleep.  Taking deep breaths hurt!  3 a.m. found me panting.  My brain struggled through to my body and said Enough!  I am approaching a milestone age which has been weighing on me.  There are things I want to accomplish with my life.  It’s time for me to deal with it and realize what’s left of my potential.  I woke the next morning and started going for it.  As I write this my stomach is twinging but I am writing and working.  I am not going to let my body continue to sabotage me.  And isn’t that what part of this condition is?  My body literally not allowing me to move forward?  When I was in counseling during that bad time, the counselor said when you get upset you let your feet out from under you.  I am not saying that what’s happening with me is psychosomatic.  It isn’t but I am also saying the mind/body connection is a powerful one.

And as I said when I started this unforeseen journey, I will overcome.  I will rise.  It will be different.