zombies

Sliding on a Sunday Morning and Reflecting

Posted on by tresswann

t’s a slightly dreary Sunday, rainy.  We usually sleep till  around 7:30 a.am.  Tom got up at 6 to go to the bathroom, triggering the same in me.  I tried to getup but couldn’t sit up.  I need to pull myself sometimes with sheets.  I asked Tom to give me a push up.  No problem.  Then when  I tried to get out of bed instead of standing, I slid gracefully to the floor.  This is usually not a problem.  I  stand up like a toddler.  I grabbed the edge of the bed.  Not happening.  Tom wanted to help.  Sometimes, when I need to get out of the tub at night, he has to come in and help me bend my right leg so I can stand up.  “I need you to do the same thing as you do in the bath.”  He comes over, pulls my leg up and as soon as I try to pull the other one, the right collapses down.  We do it again and this time it jumps uncontrollably and collapses again.  One more time and the leg is jumping up and down even worse.  The first time this happened was in my neurologist office.  I swore at the time it was something he had done to me.  It happens periodically when I get dressed in the morning.  I usually just put my hand on it and stop it.  Tom says, “Isn’t this why you take the Baclufen?”  No, that’s for the spastic thing I do where my body tenses up and I walk like a Zombie.  It’s been happening more the last few days.  Nerves, I thought.  So, Tom pulls my right leg up again and it’s out of control and he has to press it to stop it.  Think of a tuning fork.

He has to walk me to the bathroom.  It’s only 10 -12 feet.  My issue becomes that sometimes in the morning I have problems getting up in the bathroom.  I don’t want another set of grab bars.  It’s insidious defeat.  Every once in a while which is mortifying I have to ask Tom for help.  This morning we anticipate the worst.

Now, I have to call out to my fellow blogger BBH with MS ’cause she discusses bathroom issues frankly.  Let me describe my situation this way: It’s like I can turn on the faucet and most times I can turn it off but sometimes I can’t tell if the tank is empty.  It pours out of me, that I feel, and then it just keeps on dribbling and dribbling.  Mind you when this started this morning, I was in a cozy sleep.  We had just changed the sheets to the high thread count Egyptian cotton.  It’s like sleeping in a lovely cocoon.  Well, that’s done. Luckily, I can stand up by myself in the bathroom.   Tom helps me get back into bed.  My right leg feels totally numb.  And this is the moment he decides to be amorous!  Are all men adolescent boys?  The only thing I want is to get feeling back in my leg and salvage some sleep.

Which brings me to reflection which may have brought on this whole spell.   Yesterday, I opened Facebook and it let me know I had a memory.  Did we remember before Facebook?  I had posted a picture of Jeremy’s college graduation picture with us five years ago.

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So, a couple of things:  I am relatively tiny in this picture.  I always think of myself as tall and huge.  The next thing that hit me is that this was on a grass field.  We returned early from our vacation to attend.  I had walked on the beach and felt normal.  It was a glorious moment.  Yes, it took me a bit longer to reach our seats on the grass at the graduation but I was walking without a cane and without the spectral leg.  Again, the deterioration has been insidious.  I am told I really haven’t deteriorated.  REALLY?  Ok, so I am grateful that I still can get around but this is so far from alright.  It is not alright!!!   Back to fighting and clawing back, one step at a time.

Zombies, Dreams and Other Bumps in the Road

Posted on by tresswann

Disclaimer:  Life isn’t always about the disease or the condition.  When this journey started, I said I would not be confined or defined.  Well,  I started to let that happen.  I am fighting my way out of it.  I really dislike fighting.  I don’t like conflict.

Fact about me:  I am an avid, voracious and catholic reader.  However,  I don’t really do the supernatural or horror. Mysteries?  Yes.  Literature – smiles.

Disclosure:  My area of concentration at college was the synchretization of African religious beliefs in the colonial world.  I know, I know what was I thinking.  It is seriously interesting to me .  And that means I studied obeah, santeria, macumba, voudon.  But so not into zombies and if you really look at voodoo that’s not what it’s really about.

About conflict:  Work has been in turmoil for awhile.   I discovered earlier this year that my group head does not believe I am qualified to be a trainer!  It’s my job and I have been doing it with this organization for 15 years   11 years ago this month the training department in North America was disbanded as it was considered an expense not an investment and I was let go.  I was hired as a corporate training manager for a major US retail chain.  6 months later, I was asked back to finish some work.  So I did both jobs.  When the retailer went into bankruptcy, they were thrilled and I started working more hours, lots and lots.  Even now I average over 40 (billable) hours a week, have trained literally hundreds of people and created numerous successful programs.  So d’uh?  When I came back simplistically because of the expense thing they couldn’t call me training.  There are also corporate cultural and political issues so I do not identify there as a trainer because I seriously love what I do and yes, it pays well.  Also,  I work in I.T.  And am not technical.  I am the translator.  For those of you of a certain age,  I am the Mikey likes it of the department – if I understand and can do it, anyone can!  She says I told her I wasn’t a trainer.  Uh,  I made a  comment on 2nd day she was here!  In fact, one year they called me BUST – business user services/ testing!  My immediate manager and my former manager are moving to the other side of the business.  I was told that they didn’t know who my supervisor was going to be or where I would be located.  Unsettling.  And you know stress goes right to my legs and it’s not good.

Ok stage has been set.

Sunday night I dreamt that this woman (group head)  was a zombie!  She was on the ground disabled.  I was there and someone had given me a HUGE cartoon-like Chinese cleaver.  In my real life I have problems literally killing flies.  So,  I am holding this cleaver and there are people standing around me telling me I need to cut her head off.  It’s easy, the cleaver is big enough, it will be a clean cut.  I hesitate but they tell me I need to and can.  I visualize a dressed chicken. At the last minute  I smash her face.  There’s blood all over her face, rivers of it.  Then she starts to get up and I wake up screaming.

In the real world, I don’t talk to her or interact with her.  And I don’t do blood.

Cut to next day,  I go in and get a note from my former manager, there is a training job open.  Oh, I am not an employee. I am freaking and bouncing off the walls.  Tell husband to be ready and get me.  I literally stumble in.

For now, all is good.  It may even work out.  And I am walking really well.  I have had some great meetings and interactions.  It will be alright.  I am beginning to feel like me, the old confident, creative me!

But what did that dream mean?  Why did I have it then?