Can't help but to think of the little things that added up to make me the person that I am today. Some of those little things seemed really inconsequential at the time, but now seem to have really impacted my life.
Cutting my hair before going on a trip to Europe seemed to make sense so that getting ready for the day would be easier... It turned into the beginning of my move from curly to straight hair... a decision I have yet to regret... a bit more "granola" I guess, and a lot happier...
Getting into a fender bender a few days before my 3 year anniversary with my ex... which led me to the hospital, a CT scan, a neck brace and a no work and no exercise or strenuous physical activity... that led to a fight with my boyfriend... which led to a final breakup... which led to a whole new beginning in my life...
A chance meeting in a Newport Creamery led me to the love of my life... after having told his friend that I'd never date a guy younger than me just a week before, we ran into each other and I was immediately head over heels in love with this guy I'd just met... Never thought "going out to grab some ice cream" would have ended up in such a way...
Then, the stupid fight about household chores... we'd been married almost a year, I got mad, left for a few hours and came back with a new tattoo... the makeup sex was great, and that encounter led to the birth of our beautiful son...
Each of these little things changed me, though they seemed fairly insignificant at the time... I look forward to more of these "little things, so that I might find whatever it is that I might be missing, and move forward toward a better life, and a better me...
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
living dead girl...
I heard this song as I drunkenly danced my tail off in an effort to clear my head after the week from hell... I am not sure why this stuck in my head so vividly, but I just felt overwhelmingly energetic when I heard this song kick in... It was an odd segue, from Gwen Stefani's Holla Back Girl and it's insanely infectious beat that makes you want to bounce seamlessly into Rob Zombie's living dead girl and it's dark deep angry tones... yet it's when Living Dead Girl starts that I get the energy to dance like a nut (including up on a podium) and just completely let go... maybe it was the 2 shots of jager that preceded the song, who knows, but I had the energy of the duracell bunny...
I spent the night drinking and dancing with Ashley and Pudge, well just dancing with Ashley since Pudge just laughs at me when I try to get him to dance... It's amazing how a random night out can be so strange and so therapeutic... I had a great time out, even though I know that I was just trying to get stuff out of my head...
My grandmother passed away on Thursday morning, after a very long battle with a number of illnesses that finally just ravaged her body... I feel really awful about the fact that my grandmother died, but strangely relieved on a number of levels... My grandmother was an interesting character, to say the least, but her life certainly had been no picnic... I realized recently that I know very little about what she really endured in life, but the things that I have learned have made me believe that maybe she really is in a better place... I won't go into much detail, as I just don't have the energy right now, but I just hope and pray that there really is a "better place" because she deserves eternal peace... Besides her suffering, I am relieved that my own mother will hopefully find some peace as well... she's been caring for my grandmother for many years, whether due to mental or physical illness... my mother always took the time to be there for her mom... When the time came to decide whether or not to continue life support, it was my mother who gave my grandmother every chance to recover... maybe out of a sense of obligation or maybe just love, but in the end i just hope that my mother can get over the guilt that I know that she's feeling for having finally agreed that the end was inevitable and a vent was no longer the right choice for my grandmother...
Going to get some sleep, sure to write more about this soon... just don't know when I'll be ready...
I spent the night drinking and dancing with Ashley and Pudge, well just dancing with Ashley since Pudge just laughs at me when I try to get him to dance... It's amazing how a random night out can be so strange and so therapeutic... I had a great time out, even though I know that I was just trying to get stuff out of my head...
My grandmother passed away on Thursday morning, after a very long battle with a number of illnesses that finally just ravaged her body... I feel really awful about the fact that my grandmother died, but strangely relieved on a number of levels... My grandmother was an interesting character, to say the least, but her life certainly had been no picnic... I realized recently that I know very little about what she really endured in life, but the things that I have learned have made me believe that maybe she really is in a better place... I won't go into much detail, as I just don't have the energy right now, but I just hope and pray that there really is a "better place" because she deserves eternal peace... Besides her suffering, I am relieved that my own mother will hopefully find some peace as well... she's been caring for my grandmother for many years, whether due to mental or physical illness... my mother always took the time to be there for her mom... When the time came to decide whether or not to continue life support, it was my mother who gave my grandmother every chance to recover... maybe out of a sense of obligation or maybe just love, but in the end i just hope that my mother can get over the guilt that I know that she's feeling for having finally agreed that the end was inevitable and a vent was no longer the right choice for my grandmother...
Going to get some sleep, sure to write more about this soon... just don't know when I'll be ready...
Monday, August 3, 2009
I'm at my best when I'm at my worst...
Cursive has a way of expressing the things that I want to say, but am not creative enough to come up with on my own...
"Don't wanna live in the now, don't wanna know what I know."
I wonder if there's ever going to be a time that I am good enough for everyone else... I don't think I'll ever be good enough for me...
"Don't wanna live in the now, don't wanna know what I know."
I wonder if there's ever going to be a time that I am good enough for everyone else... I don't think I'll ever be good enough for me...
"Offer it up..."
I cannot tell you the number of times that I heard that phrase uttered from the lips of one of the only people in my entire life that's ever truly loved me, unconditionally... One of the only people that never made me feel bad about anything... It was my grandmother's way of telling me to get over things... That if I just offered the pain up to God, he'd gladly take whatever burden I felt away and fill me with a sense of joy, or at least peace... There was never a sense of disappointment in her voice... I never felt like I had to lie to her, or keep things from her... I knew that no matter what I did, or wanted to do, she'd support my choice, even if it was contrary to her own opinion.
She died in 2004. That was probably the last time that I felt almost whole... I mean, I'll never be whole, that was taken away from me far too long ago...
She died in 2004. That was probably the last time that I felt almost whole... I mean, I'll never be whole, that was taken away from me far too long ago...
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Far too long...
The past month has been ridiculously frustrating... I swore I wouldn't allow the darkness creep into my life, but I find that the shadows are somehow overtaking what little light was shining through beneath the closed door... even the key hole has been blocked and all that stands before me seems to be a heavy door that's stuck shut and won't budge regardless of how hard I push or pull. Maybe it's just locked and I haven't found the right key yet... I can hope, right?
I think that the constant ups and downs that have accompanied my son's mental health issues have made me realize that I'm less prepared for the daily challenges than I'd like to admit. The newest medications and reward systems appear to be a futile attempt to damper the fire that burns in his brain... He's so intelligent, and has the most logical thought processes most of the time, and then there's a change, a switch... and he completely loses any sense of reality and is reduced to tears and screams that are nearly unintelligible.
He has a tutor/nanny that spends alot of time with our family... Yesterday was his first experience with a real meltdown. He looked like a deer in the headlights when Jonah began to yell and cry and rant about how Josh had lied to him and was lying to me (though he had barely said a word). My son wouldn't stop screaming and crying, even when I stepped in and explained how he was being unreasonable and told him that Josh wasn't lying to him and he needed to calm down. The escalation of his reactions is epic. One moment he's sitting calmly typing the beginning of a letter to his uncle as part of a writing assignment, the next moment his face is nearly purple with anger and he's completely lost any semblance of reason. I have to admit, there was a secret sense of satisfaction when I realized that Josh was witnessing a breakdown. Sometimes I feel as though people think I must be exaggerating the severity of his behavior. Having someone from outside there to say "wow, I've never seen anything like that" made me feel better in a way. I don't know how that makes sense, but for me, it's just a matter of being thankful that I wasn't alone for a change.
After about 20 minutes, Jonah got to a point that I could finally communicate and calm him down some. I sent him to his room to "relax, take a few minutes to breathe or to meditate" and he closed his bedroom door behind him. I explained that what Josh was seeing wasn't all that unusual, and that Jonah would be out in a few minutes and would act as though nothing happened. Sure enough, a few minutes passed and Jonah came out of his room and seemed to be somewhat level headed. Then, for the first time, he looked at me and told me that he wasn't going to do the writing assignment that Josh had suggested and that he was going to write something else because he just didn't want to "do anything Josh said". This was the first time I'd ever seen him "calm" after an explosive episode, but still holding onto the negativity from the incident that sent him over the edge. I was shocked, but agreed that he could write 3 paragraphs of his choice because I didn't want a repeat of the previous half hour. It wasn't so much "giving in" for me, but for him... Watching his emotional turmoil manifest into a mind numbing rage seems counter productive... I just pray for peace, for him...
It's far too late to be writing anymore, but I didn't want to be completely negative, so I want to share something great... Jonah decided that he wanted to participate in the band Far's "Scream-A-Long" project, which is basically a way for people all over the world to participate in a hardcore scream-fest for a song on their new album... Seeing him sitting in front of the webcam and screaming with a purpose was kind of theraputic... seems ok to scream with a purpose... maybe there's always a purpose, just one that I can't recognize?
I think that the constant ups and downs that have accompanied my son's mental health issues have made me realize that I'm less prepared for the daily challenges than I'd like to admit. The newest medications and reward systems appear to be a futile attempt to damper the fire that burns in his brain... He's so intelligent, and has the most logical thought processes most of the time, and then there's a change, a switch... and he completely loses any sense of reality and is reduced to tears and screams that are nearly unintelligible.
He has a tutor/nanny that spends alot of time with our family... Yesterday was his first experience with a real meltdown. He looked like a deer in the headlights when Jonah began to yell and cry and rant about how Josh had lied to him and was lying to me (though he had barely said a word). My son wouldn't stop screaming and crying, even when I stepped in and explained how he was being unreasonable and told him that Josh wasn't lying to him and he needed to calm down. The escalation of his reactions is epic. One moment he's sitting calmly typing the beginning of a letter to his uncle as part of a writing assignment, the next moment his face is nearly purple with anger and he's completely lost any semblance of reason. I have to admit, there was a secret sense of satisfaction when I realized that Josh was witnessing a breakdown. Sometimes I feel as though people think I must be exaggerating the severity of his behavior. Having someone from outside there to say "wow, I've never seen anything like that" made me feel better in a way. I don't know how that makes sense, but for me, it's just a matter of being thankful that I wasn't alone for a change.
After about 20 minutes, Jonah got to a point that I could finally communicate and calm him down some. I sent him to his room to "relax, take a few minutes to breathe or to meditate" and he closed his bedroom door behind him. I explained that what Josh was seeing wasn't all that unusual, and that Jonah would be out in a few minutes and would act as though nothing happened. Sure enough, a few minutes passed and Jonah came out of his room and seemed to be somewhat level headed. Then, for the first time, he looked at me and told me that he wasn't going to do the writing assignment that Josh had suggested and that he was going to write something else because he just didn't want to "do anything Josh said". This was the first time I'd ever seen him "calm" after an explosive episode, but still holding onto the negativity from the incident that sent him over the edge. I was shocked, but agreed that he could write 3 paragraphs of his choice because I didn't want a repeat of the previous half hour. It wasn't so much "giving in" for me, but for him... Watching his emotional turmoil manifest into a mind numbing rage seems counter productive... I just pray for peace, for him...
It's far too late to be writing anymore, but I didn't want to be completely negative, so I want to share something great... Jonah decided that he wanted to participate in the band Far's "Scream-A-Long" project, which is basically a way for people all over the world to participate in a hardcore scream-fest for a song on their new album... Seeing him sitting in front of the webcam and screaming with a purpose was kind of theraputic... seems ok to scream with a purpose... maybe there's always a purpose, just one that I can't recognize?
Monday, June 1, 2009
new month, new resolutions?
So, it's the beginning of a new month... I find that I've recently been a bit more jaded than I've been in the past... I really do not see myself going back down the road that has led me to darkness in the past... I'm choosing the path that leads me to a different end... I don't want to die asking myself the same questions that I've asked so many times in the past...
I'm not sure what's going on with me, I find that simple things are now less simple... I'm beginning to realize that my son's issues are more serious than I would have liked to believe. He got upset tonight because he was "starving"... between 3:30 and 8, he had eaten an individual pizza, an apple, some candy from chuck e cheese, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some graham crackers and an ice cream bar... BUT, when I told him that it was time for bed, he had a complete and total meltdown (similar to the one when he got home from school and couldn't tell me what he wanted to eat as a snack)... He tore his clothes off, threw his blankets and pillows off his bed and started kicking the wall and the wood rails of his bunk bed... when we ignored him, he then began hitting himself in the face over and over again...
Tonight, I actually feared for the first time that if I didn't give in and give him food, I'd end up having to take him to the hospital... This isn't something I am glad to be writing... Just a reminder to myself that I need to reassess where I'm going, and how to get there...
It's been a long week or so, and I'm hoping for some change in the near future... It's gonna take time, seems that's all that I have to look forward to...
I'm not sure what's going on with me, I find that simple things are now less simple... I'm beginning to realize that my son's issues are more serious than I would have liked to believe. He got upset tonight because he was "starving"... between 3:30 and 8, he had eaten an individual pizza, an apple, some candy from chuck e cheese, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some graham crackers and an ice cream bar... BUT, when I told him that it was time for bed, he had a complete and total meltdown (similar to the one when he got home from school and couldn't tell me what he wanted to eat as a snack)... He tore his clothes off, threw his blankets and pillows off his bed and started kicking the wall and the wood rails of his bunk bed... when we ignored him, he then began hitting himself in the face over and over again...
Tonight, I actually feared for the first time that if I didn't give in and give him food, I'd end up having to take him to the hospital... This isn't something I am glad to be writing... Just a reminder to myself that I need to reassess where I'm going, and how to get there...
It's been a long week or so, and I'm hoping for some change in the near future... It's gonna take time, seems that's all that I have to look forward to...
Sunday, May 31, 2009
(virtual) loss...
I spend far too much of my time online, living in a virtual world... My job has me tied to a computer 5 days/week, and I derive alot of pleasure from my various virtual interactions... But enjoyment is the last thing I took from my most recent discovery... I was on Twitter late last night when I read a post from Jonah Matranga about a man named Pink... Ryan Pink... He was a member of Jonah's virtual world, a message board for fans of his music and all things "Jonah"... I'm not much of a poster there, more of a lurker... but I've been around all Jonah's boards on and off since my friend gave me a Jonah mix CD many years ago... On each and every board, Pink's opinions were clear... his writing showed amazing talent... in almost every post, though, Pink displayed his tortured soul for everyone to see... Jonah's post that brought me back to the board was poignant...
The death of a young dad trying to get clean. Cuts deep and cold. Goodbye, Pink.
I immediately went to the board, and there on the page, plain as day, was word from Pink's brother...
"My name is Matt Pink and I'm Ryan Pink's brother. I know Ryan posts to this board and he considered many of you friends. I dont know how to say this, but I wanted to let you all know that Ryan has passed away. I love and miss him."
I actually had to wake up Nic to talk about it, because I felt a great loss, even though Pink and I had never met... I was sad, and a bit depressed by the thought that such a soul had left the earth so soon...
I wanted to write something last night, but I just couldn't find the right words, or the right outlet... I just recently wrote about some of my experiences with life and death in a blog here, and I was amazed by the fact that within a day or two, I am again faced with the type of loss that has haunted me for years... My own father, my friends, my family, and even perfect strangers... I'd been exposed to death, and the miracle of life, in many different ways and in many different forums... While it may not be someone who I'd been close to, losing Pink touched me deeper than some of those who I've known in the "real" world... Pink's story reminded me so much of one that I'd seen before, and I suppose I always hoped he'd find clarity in all of the madness and simply blossom into the man he was meant to be... I can only hope that he's found peace now...
Nic and I have been together for a long time (11.5 since our first date, and almost 10 years married)... Nic's father faced the some of the same demons as Pink... When Nic and I met, I once asked about his dad and he told me stories about his eccentric personality, and the crazy things he'd do (like showing up unannounced on xmas with presents)... After the experiences he had in Vietnam, he came home and numbed his physical and mental pain with various drugs (initially, they were mostly prescribed by his Dr (like Pink))... Well, when the Dr cut Jonathan off, he self medicated... he met "heroin" and she became the friend on which he could lean when things were particularly difficult... when Nic was 3 or 4 years old, his parents divorced and while he saw his dad occasionally, it was clear that Jonathan was troubled... he relayed the stories about him being homeless and living on the streets in Boston, but Nic never knew what to believe... By the time he was 9 or 10 years old, his father had disappeared completely... No more phone calls, no more random "drop ins"... Nic always believed that his dad did what he could, and fought the demons when he felt strong enough... Once his dad stopped coming around, and no one had heard from him in years, Nic feared that his dad had likely succumbed to a lonely overdose or been killed by another junkie on a bender... He hoped for the best, but always feared the worst...
My best friend's dad was a retired police officer who had some connections in Boston... I asked if he'd check with the people he knew, and whether they had any idea if he was dead or alive... For months he made phone calls and followed up on leads, but there was never good news... One day, we looked for Nic's other family on his dad's side, and found the nursing home where his grandmother lay ill... We visited there, met his aunt and grandmother and had a nice chat... We both saw a card on the table next to the bed... It was from Jonathan, we finally knew for sure that he was still alive... Nic stole the envelope in which the card had been delivered... His aunt had told Nic a few minutes before that she had no idea what type of shape Jonathan was in, and wasn't sure if a letter, a call or a visit were appropriate...
When we returned home, Nic sat down and wrote a long letter to his dad... he sent pictures of us, showing my pregnant belly, and told him that his first grandson would arrive within a few months... Nic then called each of his brothers, and his mom, and gave them the address he'd found... He had no idea whether or not his dad was even at the address anymore, but he felt he should provide the information to anyone that wanted it... A few weeks passed and Nic was deeply depressed... We were expecting a baby in a few months, and Nic felt like he needed to talk to his dad... he wasn't sure why, just that he wanted some interaction, regardless of the outcome... Nic's mom called one day, to say she'd received a letter from his dad, that he was clean and sober and living in a veteran's home in Chelsea Mass, north of Boston... Nic continued to wait, and still no response to his letter...
I woke up one Saturday morning and watched as Nic fought back his frustration and sadness... He sat on the couch with a look of disgust and confusion... I went over to my computer and printed out directions to the return address from the letter... I threw some snacks and drinks into a backpack and told Nic to get in the car... He asked why, and I told him we were going for a ride... As we drove, he saw the directions I'd printed from Yahoo Maps... He asked what I thought I was doing, and I told him that I wasn't going to watch him wallow for another day... We drove for what seemed like forever... I was pulled over on the way there, the cop said I was going 83 in a 55, but he "let me off easy" by writing me up for 15 over... Just my luck...
We weaved through the traffic and finally arrived at the Soldier's Home, which was more like a college campus than a home... I was faced with dozens of buildings and people walking down the street... We had nowhere to start, but I was determined... I got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk... I made the decision that if I had to go into every door, of every building, that's what I would do... Well, I turned around and realized that Nic was still in the car... He told me that he wasn't getting out... that this was a bad idea... I snapped quite curtly at him "I did not just drive for over an hour, six months pregnant, get a speeding ticket, and arrive at our destination to have you tell me that you aren't getting out of the car"... He looked terrified, and I knew why... I didn't care though, I wasn't going to spend another day wondering where his thoughts had wandered... He was questioning his ability to be a good dad, since his dad hadn't been around to show him what to do...
We walked into the door that was closest to where I'd parked the car... it was a giant empty hallway, dark and dilapidated... It felt as though I was in an old movie... the walls were off white, there was flourescent lighting lining the halls and there was just an overall institutional look... There was not a single soul in the long hallway... I felt a little defeated, and Nic said we should just go... But I just turned around and stood on the stoop of the doorway where we'd just explored... In the distance I could see a group of people standing around chatting... There was a man with a loud Hawaiian shirt on... I pointed him out and said "that must be your dad, he dresses just like Moose" (Moose is one of Nic's older brothers)... We had a chuckle and walked toward the group... The man with the Hawaiian shirt turned to walk toward us and I started to say "excuse me..." but I saw this look that I can't explain... Nic was next to me, with this insanely wide smirk on his face... I looked closer at the man and saw his eyes, the same eyes that I'd looked into a million times... but they were older, more worn... He just looked at Nic, so intently, and said "Son?"... Nic's smile was infectious... His dad reached out to hug him and turned toward me to pull me into the hug... He said "my daughter"... We'd never met, or spoken, and he was calling me "daughter"... It was completely surreal... I felt as though I was looking in on the scene from a fish eye lens...
We spent hours talking that day... Jonathan relived the story of his years of drug addiction, and his "wake up call"... Apparently, it came when he was smoking heroin with a young man and used to much solvent... when he went to take a hit, there was a flash of fire in his face that made him question what he was doing... He walked to a local VA hospital and asked for help... They told him that if he was really ready, that they'd help him if he came in weekly for a year and tested drug free... He went back to the homeless shelter that night and committed to his choice... He went back every week for testing, and once he'd reached the year, they gave him a bed in the Soldier's Home... They gave him a place to live (not much bigger than a prison cell, but it was his)... He had medical and dental services and he was receiving counselling to deal with his long term battle with his mental health... He told Nic that while speaking to his therapist, he had decided a few weeks earlier that he was ready to contact his kids... When he arrived back at the Soldier's Home, the letter from Nic was waiting for him... He said that it was shocking and the reason he didn't write back yet was because he was afraid Nic would think he was crazy... He felt he needed time to compose something special and the time just hadn't arrived yet...
From that day on, Nic and I visited Jonathan regularly... He was so warm and welcoming... His excitement for the arrival of his grandson was absolutely intoxicating... He was like a giddy teenager when he'd pat my belly and tell anyone who passed by that I was carrying his grandson...
When Jonah arrived, Jonathan sent a card... It said "Hey diddle diddle, who's brand new and little"... a moon and cow adorned the front with stars in the sky... Inside, he wrote a note to Jonah... "Tell your mom and dad to hurry up and visit, I can't wait to see you. I can't wait til I can buy you ice cream"...
We visited Jonathan regularly and he was more proud than I could have ever imagined... He carried Jonah around the Soldier's Home campus and showed him to everyone he knew, and anyone who would listen... He spoke to Jonah as though he was an adult, and whispered secrets into his ear... Jonathan loved us all, without any exception and without an ounce of judgement... I learned so much from him in that time...
When Jonah was about 8 months old, we spent a month in Florida, attempting to relocate... Things just didn't feel right... Nic called his dad one day and I will never forget the half of the conversation that I heard... Jonathan had been diagnosed with tonsilar cancer and wanted Nic to know that even though the first dr told him it was a lost cause, another had convinced him he had a reason to fight... Jonathan was beginning radiation therapy in a few days, and he just wanted us to know...
Nic and I arranged to return from Florida, Nic knew he needed to be nearby, regardless of the fact that Jonathan told us not to worry... We arrived in Boston to visit about a week later... Jonathan looked different... his hair was thinner and he had already lost teeth from the radiation therapy... the sparkle in his eye was still there, and more evident when he saw baby Jonah... He scooped him up and we walked to a "lounge" that had an ice cream vending machine and a pool table... Jonathan looked at me and asked "can we share an ice cream"? I agreed and it was as though he did a "happy dance"... He was like a little kid in a candy store... He went over to the machine, tossed in some coins and grabbed the ice cream treat from the machine as though it was the last ice cream on earth... He unwrapped the ice cream and held it to jonah's lips... Jonah's eyes were wide with amazement... He'd never had such a sweet treat before and he loved every second of it... Jonathan and Jonah sat on a little couch and shared the rest of the treat and we talked about his treatment and everything else that came to mind... we left the Soldier's Home and felt optimistic... Jonathan told us that no matter what happened, he was happy, truly happy for the first time in his life, and he couldn't ask for much more than that... He had told us that if death came, he would accept it because he'd already done everything he was meant to do... Most important was that he'd fathered 4 boys, all of whom he was so proud... The last item on his "life list" was just checked off, he had been waiting to have ice cream with his grandson... He knew that no matter what happened, he was going to die feeling as though his life's journey had ended well...
Nic picked up the phone to call Jonathan on Father's day... the man who answered on the other end told him that his father was in the hospital, they believed he had a stroke... It was from the radiation, we knew that was a possibility, but never dreamed it would actually happen... We called around for a bit until we got the Dr at Mass General that was caring for Jonathan... He told us that he was recovering from a stroke and couldn't tell us one way or another how things would end... it was a game of hurry up and wait... Nic was able to speak to his dad by phone, we all were, but understanding his speech was a challenge and Jonathan knew that... He told us not to worry, whatever was meant to be was meant to be... A few days later, the Dr called, he wanted us to come to the hospital immediately because Jonathan wasn't doing well and he wasn't sure if he was going to survive the night...
I drove from RI to Boston in record speed... The moon shone so bright that night that I felt as though it were there to light the path we travelled... We arrived at the hospital and the doctor explained the situation, it was time to say goodbye... When we walked into the room where Jonathan lay, with a forced oxygen mask helping him breathe easier, Jonathan seemed gone... Nic leaned over and kissed his father's head... In an instant, something was strange, as Jonathan's eyes opened wide, he pulled at the mask on his face... He was completely coherent for the first time since the stroke... He sat up a bit and looked at each of us intently... The words he spoke made my eyes burn and tears well up... Nic told him that his brother Sparky was trying to catch a bus from Philadelphia, but we had no idea when he'd arrive... Moose and Ben couldn't make the trip, but they sent their love... Jonathan squeezed our hands tight, told us he loved us all, and lay back again... His eyes began to fade, but you could see there was still fight left in him... Nic finally reached Sparky an hour or so later, and he hadn't left philly yet... Nic leaned over and told Jonathan that he wasn't sure when Sparky would arrive... Jonathan was clear headed again and just nodded... His eyes had been fixed, but now they danced a bit... I could see he was thinking about something, but it all remained a mystery... He squeezed our hands once more and closed his eyes...
Nic and I had spent hours by Jonathan's bedside... I knew what was happening, but it didn't feel real... It was as though I could finally feel him let go, and his grip on my hand loosened... his breathing became labored and sporadic... then he was just gone... there was no proverbial "final breathe" to speak of, just a sense of peace... We sat for a bit longer holding his hands, as neither one of us wanted to leave him there... but Jonathan had told us months before "when I am gone, it will only be a body left on the earth... no funeral, no burial... just toss my body into a dumpster... my soul will find it's way to the place it's meant to be"... We held onto the body because it was all that we had to hold... we arranged a funeral through the Soldier's Home, and were able to have him cremated and took some ashes out to the beach he loved with his family and the boys all tossed some of the ashes into the water... another portion of his ashes was committed to the ground at the RI Veteran's Cemetary... We figured that it would be nice to have a place we could go to actually "visit" when we felt like we needed to... Jonathan had a tremendous impact on my life in the short time which we had been a part... Never before had I felt so completely loved by someone who didn't share my genes...
Jonathan was an amazing man, and fought his demons until the very end...
I wish that Pink were still here to fight the good fight... I suppose that my feelings about Pink's untimely end are so strong because he shared of himself so freely... Anyone that can be so open about their personal struggles, and about their lives, is a blessing to all they encounter... The love that he expressed for his son was so abundantly clear in every word he wrote, it made my heart swell...
I just hope that each and every person that was touched by Pink in some way will take a minute to think about what he taught... I know that I value the lessons, whether intentional or not... I know that I'll hug my son a little tighter, and I'll fight my own demons a little harder...
Pink wrote the following in his Myspace interests, which pretty much summed up the way things seemed to go for him...
"Every now and again I try to make something interesting or beautiful or different or new. Sometimes I succeed - most of the time I fail. I didn't fail with my son. I was spot on with that one - kid is a lightning bolt. Kaiden Fox Pink. You'll understand if you ever meet him."
I pray that Pink's family is able to take solace in the words Pink wrote, and the songs that he sang... I know that writing and singing were therapy for him, and he poured his heart into his craft...
I pray that Pink's son will know that his father loved him more than anything in this world...
I pray that Pink has finally found peace...
The death of a young dad trying to get clean. Cuts deep and cold. Goodbye, Pink.
I immediately went to the board, and there on the page, plain as day, was word from Pink's brother...
"My name is Matt Pink and I'm Ryan Pink's brother. I know Ryan posts to this board and he considered many of you friends. I dont know how to say this, but I wanted to let you all know that Ryan has passed away. I love and miss him."
I actually had to wake up Nic to talk about it, because I felt a great loss, even though Pink and I had never met... I was sad, and a bit depressed by the thought that such a soul had left the earth so soon...
I wanted to write something last night, but I just couldn't find the right words, or the right outlet... I just recently wrote about some of my experiences with life and death in a blog here, and I was amazed by the fact that within a day or two, I am again faced with the type of loss that has haunted me for years... My own father, my friends, my family, and even perfect strangers... I'd been exposed to death, and the miracle of life, in many different ways and in many different forums... While it may not be someone who I'd been close to, losing Pink touched me deeper than some of those who I've known in the "real" world... Pink's story reminded me so much of one that I'd seen before, and I suppose I always hoped he'd find clarity in all of the madness and simply blossom into the man he was meant to be... I can only hope that he's found peace now...
Nic and I have been together for a long time (11.5 since our first date, and almost 10 years married)... Nic's father faced the some of the same demons as Pink... When Nic and I met, I once asked about his dad and he told me stories about his eccentric personality, and the crazy things he'd do (like showing up unannounced on xmas with presents)... After the experiences he had in Vietnam, he came home and numbed his physical and mental pain with various drugs (initially, they were mostly prescribed by his Dr (like Pink))... Well, when the Dr cut Jonathan off, he self medicated... he met "heroin" and she became the friend on which he could lean when things were particularly difficult... when Nic was 3 or 4 years old, his parents divorced and while he saw his dad occasionally, it was clear that Jonathan was troubled... he relayed the stories about him being homeless and living on the streets in Boston, but Nic never knew what to believe... By the time he was 9 or 10 years old, his father had disappeared completely... No more phone calls, no more random "drop ins"... Nic always believed that his dad did what he could, and fought the demons when he felt strong enough... Once his dad stopped coming around, and no one had heard from him in years, Nic feared that his dad had likely succumbed to a lonely overdose or been killed by another junkie on a bender... He hoped for the best, but always feared the worst...
My best friend's dad was a retired police officer who had some connections in Boston... I asked if he'd check with the people he knew, and whether they had any idea if he was dead or alive... For months he made phone calls and followed up on leads, but there was never good news... One day, we looked for Nic's other family on his dad's side, and found the nursing home where his grandmother lay ill... We visited there, met his aunt and grandmother and had a nice chat... We both saw a card on the table next to the bed... It was from Jonathan, we finally knew for sure that he was still alive... Nic stole the envelope in which the card had been delivered... His aunt had told Nic a few minutes before that she had no idea what type of shape Jonathan was in, and wasn't sure if a letter, a call or a visit were appropriate...
When we returned home, Nic sat down and wrote a long letter to his dad... he sent pictures of us, showing my pregnant belly, and told him that his first grandson would arrive within a few months... Nic then called each of his brothers, and his mom, and gave them the address he'd found... He had no idea whether or not his dad was even at the address anymore, but he felt he should provide the information to anyone that wanted it... A few weeks passed and Nic was deeply depressed... We were expecting a baby in a few months, and Nic felt like he needed to talk to his dad... he wasn't sure why, just that he wanted some interaction, regardless of the outcome... Nic's mom called one day, to say she'd received a letter from his dad, that he was clean and sober and living in a veteran's home in Chelsea Mass, north of Boston... Nic continued to wait, and still no response to his letter...
I woke up one Saturday morning and watched as Nic fought back his frustration and sadness... He sat on the couch with a look of disgust and confusion... I went over to my computer and printed out directions to the return address from the letter... I threw some snacks and drinks into a backpack and told Nic to get in the car... He asked why, and I told him we were going for a ride... As we drove, he saw the directions I'd printed from Yahoo Maps... He asked what I thought I was doing, and I told him that I wasn't going to watch him wallow for another day... We drove for what seemed like forever... I was pulled over on the way there, the cop said I was going 83 in a 55, but he "let me off easy" by writing me up for 15 over... Just my luck...
We weaved through the traffic and finally arrived at the Soldier's Home, which was more like a college campus than a home... I was faced with dozens of buildings and people walking down the street... We had nowhere to start, but I was determined... I got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk... I made the decision that if I had to go into every door, of every building, that's what I would do... Well, I turned around and realized that Nic was still in the car... He told me that he wasn't getting out... that this was a bad idea... I snapped quite curtly at him "I did not just drive for over an hour, six months pregnant, get a speeding ticket, and arrive at our destination to have you tell me that you aren't getting out of the car"... He looked terrified, and I knew why... I didn't care though, I wasn't going to spend another day wondering where his thoughts had wandered... He was questioning his ability to be a good dad, since his dad hadn't been around to show him what to do...
We walked into the door that was closest to where I'd parked the car... it was a giant empty hallway, dark and dilapidated... It felt as though I was in an old movie... the walls were off white, there was flourescent lighting lining the halls and there was just an overall institutional look... There was not a single soul in the long hallway... I felt a little defeated, and Nic said we should just go... But I just turned around and stood on the stoop of the doorway where we'd just explored... In the distance I could see a group of people standing around chatting... There was a man with a loud Hawaiian shirt on... I pointed him out and said "that must be your dad, he dresses just like Moose" (Moose is one of Nic's older brothers)... We had a chuckle and walked toward the group... The man with the Hawaiian shirt turned to walk toward us and I started to say "excuse me..." but I saw this look that I can't explain... Nic was next to me, with this insanely wide smirk on his face... I looked closer at the man and saw his eyes, the same eyes that I'd looked into a million times... but they were older, more worn... He just looked at Nic, so intently, and said "Son?"... Nic's smile was infectious... His dad reached out to hug him and turned toward me to pull me into the hug... He said "my daughter"... We'd never met, or spoken, and he was calling me "daughter"... It was completely surreal... I felt as though I was looking in on the scene from a fish eye lens...
We spent hours talking that day... Jonathan relived the story of his years of drug addiction, and his "wake up call"... Apparently, it came when he was smoking heroin with a young man and used to much solvent... when he went to take a hit, there was a flash of fire in his face that made him question what he was doing... He walked to a local VA hospital and asked for help... They told him that if he was really ready, that they'd help him if he came in weekly for a year and tested drug free... He went back to the homeless shelter that night and committed to his choice... He went back every week for testing, and once he'd reached the year, they gave him a bed in the Soldier's Home... They gave him a place to live (not much bigger than a prison cell, but it was his)... He had medical and dental services and he was receiving counselling to deal with his long term battle with his mental health... He told Nic that while speaking to his therapist, he had decided a few weeks earlier that he was ready to contact his kids... When he arrived back at the Soldier's Home, the letter from Nic was waiting for him... He said that it was shocking and the reason he didn't write back yet was because he was afraid Nic would think he was crazy... He felt he needed time to compose something special and the time just hadn't arrived yet...
From that day on, Nic and I visited Jonathan regularly... He was so warm and welcoming... His excitement for the arrival of his grandson was absolutely intoxicating... He was like a giddy teenager when he'd pat my belly and tell anyone who passed by that I was carrying his grandson...
When Jonah arrived, Jonathan sent a card... It said "Hey diddle diddle, who's brand new and little"... a moon and cow adorned the front with stars in the sky... Inside, he wrote a note to Jonah... "Tell your mom and dad to hurry up and visit, I can't wait to see you. I can't wait til I can buy you ice cream"...
We visited Jonathan regularly and he was more proud than I could have ever imagined... He carried Jonah around the Soldier's Home campus and showed him to everyone he knew, and anyone who would listen... He spoke to Jonah as though he was an adult, and whispered secrets into his ear... Jonathan loved us all, without any exception and without an ounce of judgement... I learned so much from him in that time...
When Jonah was about 8 months old, we spent a month in Florida, attempting to relocate... Things just didn't feel right... Nic called his dad one day and I will never forget the half of the conversation that I heard... Jonathan had been diagnosed with tonsilar cancer and wanted Nic to know that even though the first dr told him it was a lost cause, another had convinced him he had a reason to fight... Jonathan was beginning radiation therapy in a few days, and he just wanted us to know...
Nic and I arranged to return from Florida, Nic knew he needed to be nearby, regardless of the fact that Jonathan told us not to worry... We arrived in Boston to visit about a week later... Jonathan looked different... his hair was thinner and he had already lost teeth from the radiation therapy... the sparkle in his eye was still there, and more evident when he saw baby Jonah... He scooped him up and we walked to a "lounge" that had an ice cream vending machine and a pool table... Jonathan looked at me and asked "can we share an ice cream"? I agreed and it was as though he did a "happy dance"... He was like a little kid in a candy store... He went over to the machine, tossed in some coins and grabbed the ice cream treat from the machine as though it was the last ice cream on earth... He unwrapped the ice cream and held it to jonah's lips... Jonah's eyes were wide with amazement... He'd never had such a sweet treat before and he loved every second of it... Jonathan and Jonah sat on a little couch and shared the rest of the treat and we talked about his treatment and everything else that came to mind... we left the Soldier's Home and felt optimistic... Jonathan told us that no matter what happened, he was happy, truly happy for the first time in his life, and he couldn't ask for much more than that... He had told us that if death came, he would accept it because he'd already done everything he was meant to do... Most important was that he'd fathered 4 boys, all of whom he was so proud... The last item on his "life list" was just checked off, he had been waiting to have ice cream with his grandson... He knew that no matter what happened, he was going to die feeling as though his life's journey had ended well...
Nic picked up the phone to call Jonathan on Father's day... the man who answered on the other end told him that his father was in the hospital, they believed he had a stroke... It was from the radiation, we knew that was a possibility, but never dreamed it would actually happen... We called around for a bit until we got the Dr at Mass General that was caring for Jonathan... He told us that he was recovering from a stroke and couldn't tell us one way or another how things would end... it was a game of hurry up and wait... Nic was able to speak to his dad by phone, we all were, but understanding his speech was a challenge and Jonathan knew that... He told us not to worry, whatever was meant to be was meant to be... A few days later, the Dr called, he wanted us to come to the hospital immediately because Jonathan wasn't doing well and he wasn't sure if he was going to survive the night...
I drove from RI to Boston in record speed... The moon shone so bright that night that I felt as though it were there to light the path we travelled... We arrived at the hospital and the doctor explained the situation, it was time to say goodbye... When we walked into the room where Jonathan lay, with a forced oxygen mask helping him breathe easier, Jonathan seemed gone... Nic leaned over and kissed his father's head... In an instant, something was strange, as Jonathan's eyes opened wide, he pulled at the mask on his face... He was completely coherent for the first time since the stroke... He sat up a bit and looked at each of us intently... The words he spoke made my eyes burn and tears well up... Nic told him that his brother Sparky was trying to catch a bus from Philadelphia, but we had no idea when he'd arrive... Moose and Ben couldn't make the trip, but they sent their love... Jonathan squeezed our hands tight, told us he loved us all, and lay back again... His eyes began to fade, but you could see there was still fight left in him... Nic finally reached Sparky an hour or so later, and he hadn't left philly yet... Nic leaned over and told Jonathan that he wasn't sure when Sparky would arrive... Jonathan was clear headed again and just nodded... His eyes had been fixed, but now they danced a bit... I could see he was thinking about something, but it all remained a mystery... He squeezed our hands once more and closed his eyes...
Nic and I had spent hours by Jonathan's bedside... I knew what was happening, but it didn't feel real... It was as though I could finally feel him let go, and his grip on my hand loosened... his breathing became labored and sporadic... then he was just gone... there was no proverbial "final breathe" to speak of, just a sense of peace... We sat for a bit longer holding his hands, as neither one of us wanted to leave him there... but Jonathan had told us months before "when I am gone, it will only be a body left on the earth... no funeral, no burial... just toss my body into a dumpster... my soul will find it's way to the place it's meant to be"... We held onto the body because it was all that we had to hold... we arranged a funeral through the Soldier's Home, and were able to have him cremated and took some ashes out to the beach he loved with his family and the boys all tossed some of the ashes into the water... another portion of his ashes was committed to the ground at the RI Veteran's Cemetary... We figured that it would be nice to have a place we could go to actually "visit" when we felt like we needed to... Jonathan had a tremendous impact on my life in the short time which we had been a part... Never before had I felt so completely loved by someone who didn't share my genes...
Jonathan was an amazing man, and fought his demons until the very end...
I wish that Pink were still here to fight the good fight... I suppose that my feelings about Pink's untimely end are so strong because he shared of himself so freely... Anyone that can be so open about their personal struggles, and about their lives, is a blessing to all they encounter... The love that he expressed for his son was so abundantly clear in every word he wrote, it made my heart swell...
I just hope that each and every person that was touched by Pink in some way will take a minute to think about what he taught... I know that I value the lessons, whether intentional or not... I know that I'll hug my son a little tighter, and I'll fight my own demons a little harder...
Pink wrote the following in his Myspace interests, which pretty much summed up the way things seemed to go for him...
"Every now and again I try to make something interesting or beautiful or different or new. Sometimes I succeed - most of the time I fail. I didn't fail with my son. I was spot on with that one - kid is a lightning bolt. Kaiden Fox Pink. You'll understand if you ever meet him."
I pray that Pink's family is able to take solace in the words Pink wrote, and the songs that he sang... I know that writing and singing were therapy for him, and he poured his heart into his craft...
I pray that Pink's son will know that his father loved him more than anything in this world...
I pray that Pink has finally found peace...
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
mortality...
I don't know why, but it seems that every once in a while I am forced to stare straight in the face of a life or death situation... This week, watching a new life arrive, in an unplanned way, was another reminder of both the frailty and miracles that life has thrown my way...
I've been a birth doula for several years now, and I spent several of the last few days caring for a dear friend during her labor, and doing my best to help out once the baby arrived... Most people don't know what a doula is, or what my role is during childbirth, but I can tell you that it's never the same on any two occasions...
I have spent much of my time holding hands and offering reassuring words about a mother's strength and innate ability to know what's "right" for her and her baby... I have had to take on a more stern role and remind a laboring woman that she's not the first person to have experienced labor pains, this has only been to get a woman to snap out of a brief loss of focus during natural childbirth's "transition" phase) ... I've even had to step in and "play catch" when a doctor left for coffee while my client pushed out her beautiful baby boy with only my hand to guide her son into the world... on that occasion, the nurse stood in the hallway screaming for someone to "get a doctor"... I remember that I kept motioning her to calm down so that the first thing that little boy heard wasn't her squaking in the hallway... After all, there wasn't anything that nurse was going to scream that was going to delay that little boy from his illustrious arrival... This last birth was different though... There was a long labor, that lasted for days, and ended with an emergency c-section... I sat at the head of an operating room table and reminded M that everything that she felt and everything that was happening, was exactly how it was meant to be, and a beautiful baby girl arrived this past Saturday, at 3:30pm, and weighing in at 8lbs 8oz...
Sometimes labor is easier for one woman than another, but the overall experience and outcome have all been the same... Each woman did exactly what she had to do to get her child into this world in whatever way felt "right"...
It's strange how I somehow end up in a position to help people, whether I am prepared or not, with some of the most positive and negative experiences of their lives... I barely slept a wink last night, but in my brief slumber, I was reminded with a brief glimpse in my dream of an event that I've tried to push out of my head since it occured...
Nearly forteen years ago, as I was arriving home from work, I slowed down to crest a hill before pulling into my driveway and heard a horrendous screech and crash... A conversion van and a small pickup truck had crashed at the end of my driveway... The van turned into the oncoming pickup truck due to the beautiful sunset that I'd just been admiring a few moments before... I pulled my car across the two center lanes of traffic, blocking traffic in both directions, and jumped out of my car as my stepdad came flying out of the driveway in his big white Suburban and blocked the lanes on the other side of the accident scene... He ran to the pickup truck and I ran to the van... A 9 month old baby was in her car seat (not a tear in her eye) and a 9 year old boy sat in the passenger seat in complete shock... Mom was a mess, her face didn't really resemble a face anymore... The bones in her face were completely shattered and her head bobbed back and forth as she tried to remain conscious... Another good samaritan stopped to offer assistance and I ordered him into the back of the van to get behind the driver's seat and hold the woman's head still until paramedics could extricate her from the van... The woman's husband was standing on the side of the road screaming, and he had grabbed his son from the front seat... I grabbed his arm and explained that he needed to lay his son on the ground, on a blanket that someone was holding, and elevate his legs because he was in shock... the man looked lost, I squeezed his arm tight and made it clear that he needed to follow my instructions carefully... he just shook his head and asked about his daughter... I told him he could take the car seat out of the back of the van, place her on the ground next to his son, but that under no circumstances could he remove her from her seat or try to move her in any way... I told him to sit and wait for the paramedics to arrive and that I'd do my best to care for his wife... Once I realized that everyone from the van was being attended to, I went over to the pickup truck and found a gruesome scene...
My stepfather and the guy that I was dating at the time had physically torn a door off of the pickup truck when they couldn't open the door... I stood outside the driver's side window and saw one of the most awful thing's that I could imagine... This man had hit with such ferocity that his body lay under the dash, on the floor of the truck... He had hit his face on the steering wheel, which tore through his forehead and his face was literally hanging down off of his skull... I could see the muscles and bones of his skull, and my stepfather was using a tshirt to try to stop the bleeding and hold his face together... I thought that was the worst of it, but it wasn't... I told my stepdad to check the registration of the vehicle, I wanted to keep the man conscious and remembered that addressing someone by their name was the best way to keep their attention... That's when I realized just how bad this man's injuries were... My stepdad realized when he looked at the registration for the truck that the man whose face he was holding in place was that of a man who he'd gone to school with, and seen regularly at the local auto parts store... I was standing in a pile of fluid on the ground... I hadn't thought much about it because the van and trucks hit with such force that the engines were spewing oil, transmission and radiator fluid... What I didn't realize is that there was actually blood spilling from under the door of the truck and falling at my feet... I realized that the blood couldn't have been coming from his face, and that's when I saw something that I'll never forget... The man's body was contorted into an inhuman position, and I reached down to check his pulse when I realized that his leg was broken... It wasn't just broken, the bones of his lower leg had punctured through where his knee had been and the lower leg was held to his body only by a thick chunk of skin where the back of his knee once was... I grabbed a tshirt that someone handed me, off their body, and wrapped it around the leg and applied pressure to try to control the bleeding...
In rolled the calvary, or so I initially thought... An EMT came rushing over to the van where the woman still sat being held in an upright position, trapped like an animal. We were awaiting the arrival of the fire department and the jaws of life... I just stood there holding the tshirt wrapped around this man's leg... Suddenly, the EMT told me to "step away from the vehicle"... Apparently he had no idea about the extent of the injuries... I told him to stop yelling, and if he wanted to come over and hold this guy's face on, and stop the bleeding in his compound fracture, then I'd gladly walk away... He poked his head into the pickup truck cab and realized how serious the man's injuries were and told us to maintain the pressure on the wounds while he called in for additional assistance...
The baby and little boy were put into the first ambulance to arrive on scene, taken to the children's hospital, apparently because they were the easiest to transport...
It seemed like forever, but eventually a few EMT and ambulances showed up on scene and took over for us... It was as though mere moments had passed, yet somehow in that time they'd somehow managed to extricate the woman from the van and get the man on a backboard and off to the hospital...
Once the scene was cleared, I climbed into my car and drove down my driveway... I walked into the house and sank to the floor... I don't know why, but I was completely overwhelmed by the experience that I'd just had, and had really begun to process what I'd just encountered... I had just spent 30-45 minutes organizing the people who responded to the accident scene, spent time holding a man's face to his skull and his leg to his body... I watched the life drain out of one man's face and tried to recognize my neighbor, whose face had been completely disfigured with the crash...
My mom had no idea what had happened, and as we all stood there relaying the events that had just transpired, I realized that she saw something in my expression... I felt the blood drain from my face and leaned against the wall and slid to the floor... she put a hand on my shoulder and told me "you did what you could do, but it's up to God now"... At the time that I was assisting these accident victims, I hadn't really thought about what was happening once the ambulance left the scene... But, now with a moment of pause, I realized that I had no idea whether or not the drivers would survive their injuries... After all, they'd both been injured severely and their injuries were worse than anything I'd ever seen...
What my mom said wasn't what I wanted to hear, or what I needed to hear, but I suppose it was true... I'd happened upon a scene that I hope will never see again... But, it was outside my control... I played the hand that I was dealt...
I have no idea how this post ended up so long, especially since it started out on a completely different path, but I suppose that the words simply needed to be set down for one reason or another... As usual, things happen for a reason...
I've been a birth doula for several years now, and I spent several of the last few days caring for a dear friend during her labor, and doing my best to help out once the baby arrived... Most people don't know what a doula is, or what my role is during childbirth, but I can tell you that it's never the same on any two occasions...
I have spent much of my time holding hands and offering reassuring words about a mother's strength and innate ability to know what's "right" for her and her baby... I have had to take on a more stern role and remind a laboring woman that she's not the first person to have experienced labor pains, this has only been to get a woman to snap out of a brief loss of focus during natural childbirth's "transition" phase) ... I've even had to step in and "play catch" when a doctor left for coffee while my client pushed out her beautiful baby boy with only my hand to guide her son into the world... on that occasion, the nurse stood in the hallway screaming for someone to "get a doctor"... I remember that I kept motioning her to calm down so that the first thing that little boy heard wasn't her squaking in the hallway... After all, there wasn't anything that nurse was going to scream that was going to delay that little boy from his illustrious arrival... This last birth was different though... There was a long labor, that lasted for days, and ended with an emergency c-section... I sat at the head of an operating room table and reminded M that everything that she felt and everything that was happening, was exactly how it was meant to be, and a beautiful baby girl arrived this past Saturday, at 3:30pm, and weighing in at 8lbs 8oz...
Sometimes labor is easier for one woman than another, but the overall experience and outcome have all been the same... Each woman did exactly what she had to do to get her child into this world in whatever way felt "right"...
It's strange how I somehow end up in a position to help people, whether I am prepared or not, with some of the most positive and negative experiences of their lives... I barely slept a wink last night, but in my brief slumber, I was reminded with a brief glimpse in my dream of an event that I've tried to push out of my head since it occured...
Nearly forteen years ago, as I was arriving home from work, I slowed down to crest a hill before pulling into my driveway and heard a horrendous screech and crash... A conversion van and a small pickup truck had crashed at the end of my driveway... The van turned into the oncoming pickup truck due to the beautiful sunset that I'd just been admiring a few moments before... I pulled my car across the two center lanes of traffic, blocking traffic in both directions, and jumped out of my car as my stepdad came flying out of the driveway in his big white Suburban and blocked the lanes on the other side of the accident scene... He ran to the pickup truck and I ran to the van... A 9 month old baby was in her car seat (not a tear in her eye) and a 9 year old boy sat in the passenger seat in complete shock... Mom was a mess, her face didn't really resemble a face anymore... The bones in her face were completely shattered and her head bobbed back and forth as she tried to remain conscious... Another good samaritan stopped to offer assistance and I ordered him into the back of the van to get behind the driver's seat and hold the woman's head still until paramedics could extricate her from the van... The woman's husband was standing on the side of the road screaming, and he had grabbed his son from the front seat... I grabbed his arm and explained that he needed to lay his son on the ground, on a blanket that someone was holding, and elevate his legs because he was in shock... the man looked lost, I squeezed his arm tight and made it clear that he needed to follow my instructions carefully... he just shook his head and asked about his daughter... I told him he could take the car seat out of the back of the van, place her on the ground next to his son, but that under no circumstances could he remove her from her seat or try to move her in any way... I told him to sit and wait for the paramedics to arrive and that I'd do my best to care for his wife... Once I realized that everyone from the van was being attended to, I went over to the pickup truck and found a gruesome scene...
My stepfather and the guy that I was dating at the time had physically torn a door off of the pickup truck when they couldn't open the door... I stood outside the driver's side window and saw one of the most awful thing's that I could imagine... This man had hit with such ferocity that his body lay under the dash, on the floor of the truck... He had hit his face on the steering wheel, which tore through his forehead and his face was literally hanging down off of his skull... I could see the muscles and bones of his skull, and my stepfather was using a tshirt to try to stop the bleeding and hold his face together... I thought that was the worst of it, but it wasn't... I told my stepdad to check the registration of the vehicle, I wanted to keep the man conscious and remembered that addressing someone by their name was the best way to keep their attention... That's when I realized just how bad this man's injuries were... My stepdad realized when he looked at the registration for the truck that the man whose face he was holding in place was that of a man who he'd gone to school with, and seen regularly at the local auto parts store... I was standing in a pile of fluid on the ground... I hadn't thought much about it because the van and trucks hit with such force that the engines were spewing oil, transmission and radiator fluid... What I didn't realize is that there was actually blood spilling from under the door of the truck and falling at my feet... I realized that the blood couldn't have been coming from his face, and that's when I saw something that I'll never forget... The man's body was contorted into an inhuman position, and I reached down to check his pulse when I realized that his leg was broken... It wasn't just broken, the bones of his lower leg had punctured through where his knee had been and the lower leg was held to his body only by a thick chunk of skin where the back of his knee once was... I grabbed a tshirt that someone handed me, off their body, and wrapped it around the leg and applied pressure to try to control the bleeding...
In rolled the calvary, or so I initially thought... An EMT came rushing over to the van where the woman still sat being held in an upright position, trapped like an animal. We were awaiting the arrival of the fire department and the jaws of life... I just stood there holding the tshirt wrapped around this man's leg... Suddenly, the EMT told me to "step away from the vehicle"... Apparently he had no idea about the extent of the injuries... I told him to stop yelling, and if he wanted to come over and hold this guy's face on, and stop the bleeding in his compound fracture, then I'd gladly walk away... He poked his head into the pickup truck cab and realized how serious the man's injuries were and told us to maintain the pressure on the wounds while he called in for additional assistance...
The baby and little boy were put into the first ambulance to arrive on scene, taken to the children's hospital, apparently because they were the easiest to transport...
It seemed like forever, but eventually a few EMT and ambulances showed up on scene and took over for us... It was as though mere moments had passed, yet somehow in that time they'd somehow managed to extricate the woman from the van and get the man on a backboard and off to the hospital...
Once the scene was cleared, I climbed into my car and drove down my driveway... I walked into the house and sank to the floor... I don't know why, but I was completely overwhelmed by the experience that I'd just had, and had really begun to process what I'd just encountered... I had just spent 30-45 minutes organizing the people who responded to the accident scene, spent time holding a man's face to his skull and his leg to his body... I watched the life drain out of one man's face and tried to recognize my neighbor, whose face had been completely disfigured with the crash...
My mom had no idea what had happened, and as we all stood there relaying the events that had just transpired, I realized that she saw something in my expression... I felt the blood drain from my face and leaned against the wall and slid to the floor... she put a hand on my shoulder and told me "you did what you could do, but it's up to God now"... At the time that I was assisting these accident victims, I hadn't really thought about what was happening once the ambulance left the scene... But, now with a moment of pause, I realized that I had no idea whether or not the drivers would survive their injuries... After all, they'd both been injured severely and their injuries were worse than anything I'd ever seen...
What my mom said wasn't what I wanted to hear, or what I needed to hear, but I suppose it was true... I'd happened upon a scene that I hope will never see again... But, it was outside my control... I played the hand that I was dealt...
I have no idea how this post ended up so long, especially since it started out on a completely different path, but I suppose that the words simply needed to be set down for one reason or another... As usual, things happen for a reason...
Saturday, May 16, 2009
i don't want to give up...
but sometimes I can't help but feel as though my attempts are feeble and the outcome will never be as I'd hoped...
Every day is a new challenge, and some days are particularly difficult to comprehend... Frustration seems to be the feeling that I find most overwhelming... There are days that seem to go by in mere moments and then others that drag on for what seems like an eternity...
I suppose that at some point I need to suck it up and shut my mouth, since I know that I really am doing the best that I can... yet, here I am on a Saturday night, after midnight, writing... to get this out of my head so that I might have a chance at a reasonable night's sleep... it's been months since I slept soundly for more than a few hours... but maybe tonight will be different... I can only hope...
I imagine that those looking from the outside believe that I'm a very lucky girl... i suppose that I know that I am in many ways... But, I don't think that anyone has any idea of the daily grind to which I've become accustomed... and I don't think that there are many that would care if they did...
Patience has become one of my only allies... Thinking back over my life, it seems that I didn't have much in the way of patience before my son was born... I suppose now is as good a time as any to learn a new skill...
Every day is a new challenge, and some days are particularly difficult to comprehend... Frustration seems to be the feeling that I find most overwhelming... There are days that seem to go by in mere moments and then others that drag on for what seems like an eternity...
I suppose that at some point I need to suck it up and shut my mouth, since I know that I really am doing the best that I can... yet, here I am on a Saturday night, after midnight, writing... to get this out of my head so that I might have a chance at a reasonable night's sleep... it's been months since I slept soundly for more than a few hours... but maybe tonight will be different... I can only hope...
I imagine that those looking from the outside believe that I'm a very lucky girl... i suppose that I know that I am in many ways... But, I don't think that anyone has any idea of the daily grind to which I've become accustomed... and I don't think that there are many that would care if they did...
Patience has become one of my only allies... Thinking back over my life, it seems that I didn't have much in the way of patience before my son was born... I suppose now is as good a time as any to learn a new skill...
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
lost...
I am not sure that my life will ever be "normal"... Or maybe I don't know what "normal" is anymore...
I've spent the last several years sifting through piles of books, research reports, private and public resources, doctor's opinions, schooling options... none of it fits and none of it makes sense... it never seems to "add up" and it never seems that anyone has any answers to the same questions...
It all comes down to one question though...
How can I help my son?
I call one agency and they refer me to another agency that "might be better suited to help in OUR situation"... What is our situation?
We have a loving, caring, charismatic and brilliant child with an IQ that's off the charts... with ADHD, coupled with some behavioral, anxiety and mental health issues that don't fit into a specific "category" or diagnosis...
I'm sick of fighting for something when I don't even know what "IT" is that I am fighting for... My son is the most important person in the world to me... Yet I don't know what to do to make him happy, or make him succeed...
I don't think that I could be any more lost than I am right now... I told my son't principal that I was raising the white flag and resorting to begging for help... I don't think that it's going to make a difference... But, I suppose that I'll find out next week whether or not begging is the answer...
Maybe someone will surprise me... maybe someone will find an answer... or at least offer a suggestion that provides some relief...
I've spent the last several years sifting through piles of books, research reports, private and public resources, doctor's opinions, schooling options... none of it fits and none of it makes sense... it never seems to "add up" and it never seems that anyone has any answers to the same questions...
It all comes down to one question though...
How can I help my son?
I call one agency and they refer me to another agency that "might be better suited to help in OUR situation"... What is our situation?
We have a loving, caring, charismatic and brilliant child with an IQ that's off the charts... with ADHD, coupled with some behavioral, anxiety and mental health issues that don't fit into a specific "category" or diagnosis...
I'm sick of fighting for something when I don't even know what "IT" is that I am fighting for... My son is the most important person in the world to me... Yet I don't know what to do to make him happy, or make him succeed...
I don't think that I could be any more lost than I am right now... I told my son't principal that I was raising the white flag and resorting to begging for help... I don't think that it's going to make a difference... But, I suppose that I'll find out next week whether or not begging is the answer...
Maybe someone will surprise me... maybe someone will find an answer... or at least offer a suggestion that provides some relief...
Friday, April 24, 2009
it's a beautiful day in this neighborhood...
a beautiful day for a neighbor...
Would you be mine? Could you be mine?
OK, so cheesy, but it's a gorgeous day out and I am enjoying the sun shining through my window and the warmth all around...
It's going to be a wonderful weekend... I need it...
Would you be mine? Could you be mine?
OK, so cheesy, but it's a gorgeous day out and I am enjoying the sun shining through my window and the warmth all around...
It's going to be a wonderful weekend... I need it...
Monday, April 20, 2009
Sickest haircut ever...
My boy wonder, Jonah, got his hair cut and dyed last night... For more than a year he's been asking if he could dye his hair, and I refused... I don't know why, but I just did... However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized how ridiculous it was to refuse such a simple request from a kid that's so amazing... It took a bit more time to do than we initially expected, but Jason cut it first, bleached it and then dyed it within a few hours... Jonah enjoyed some old school Super Mario Bros 3 while bleach and dye were doing their thing... We figured we'd be done by 830, but it was a little later, so Jonah was pretty tired, as evident from this first pic...
Once he really looked at his hair, he wanted more pics... He's never met a camera (or mirror) he didn't love...
The coolest part of the hair dye... it's black light recessive...
Once he really looked at his hair, he wanted more pics... He's never met a camera (or mirror) he didn't love...
He was posing in front of a wall of records that I've used to decorate our dining room... check out the one right behind his head, funny I didn't notice until I was posting this pic...
The coolest part of the hair dye... it's black light recessive...
I wonder what will happen when he gets off the bus today...
Sunday, April 19, 2009
another late night/early morning-ish...
it's well after 3am and sleep's nowhere to be found... So here are a couple of observations about me...
1. I dislike people who say they will do something and then don't do it.
2. I hate excuses.
3. I think that my expectations of people are reasonable.
4. I will only ask of someone what I am willing to offer of myself in return.
5. I love easily. Not in the "I'm IN love" kind of way, but in the sense that I freely accept, appreciate and love people who enter my life. Even if it is only for a brief time.
6. #5 gets me in trouble, alot. Well, by "in trouble" I mean causes me to be disappointed, alot. It's become quite apparent that my love and appreciation for people is rarely greeted with the same enthusiasm.
7. I try way too hard.
8. I have strange obsessions with random things. ie. chewbacca, messy hair, lipgloss, boys that wear eyeliner and pretty much anything baby blue.
9. I love long flowing bufandas, that's spanish for "scarf"... I own several now, and I am finding that my least favorite part of the warmer weather is my lack of need for the bufanda...
10. I am going to bed.
<3
1. I dislike people who say they will do something and then don't do it.
2. I hate excuses.
3. I think that my expectations of people are reasonable.
4. I will only ask of someone what I am willing to offer of myself in return.
5. I love easily. Not in the "I'm IN love" kind of way, but in the sense that I freely accept, appreciate and love people who enter my life. Even if it is only for a brief time.
6. #5 gets me in trouble, alot. Well, by "in trouble" I mean causes me to be disappointed, alot. It's become quite apparent that my love and appreciation for people is rarely greeted with the same enthusiasm.
7. I try way too hard.
8. I have strange obsessions with random things. ie. chewbacca, messy hair, lipgloss, boys that wear eyeliner and pretty much anything baby blue.
9. I love long flowing bufandas, that's spanish for "scarf"... I own several now, and I am finding that my least favorite part of the warmer weather is my lack of need for the bufanda...
10. I am going to bed.
<3
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Long nights... late mornings...
Went out last night for the first time in months... back and ankle still messed up, but needed to clear my head... Started with a trip to see Charlie, which is always funny, since he still lives in a college dorm... At 30, it's weird to hang out at a dorm and hear drunk college kids screaming in the hallways and being insanely loud for no other reason except that their parents can't see them! One girl even walked directly in front of my car as I was leaving... All I could do is laugh, but then again, maybe she's the "drunk girl" that you can trick with apple juice... ugh, how I love Family Guy...
Charlie had to get up early, so I headed off to Hell to dance and chill with friends... So good to see Martha, Pudge and Jason... I had lots of silly fun... Danced a bit, if you can call it that, being that I'm still a bit of a gimp... Called Nic on the way home and demanded a peanut butter and jelly sandwich be waiting for my arrival at home... well, maybe not "demanded", more like "pleaded"... Came home at 230, made Nic play Dr Mario for like 20 minutes... stayed up til almost 5 watching insane reruns of "Roseanne" and tooled around on the web for a wee bit...
Couldn't seem to get going this morning, but the shower was calling... Was supposed to meet Moira for lunch today with her mom to discuss her baby's birth... Moira was Nic's friend back when they were like 14... They reconnected through myspace a few years ago and I adore her... She's an amazingly strong woman and has really left an amazing impression in my heart... We've rescheduled for next weekend and I'm hoping Jonah will also have his first swimming lesson with Tracy then... It'll be nice to go to Newport on a Saturday... It's been far too long...
IDK if anyone really cares to read this, since it's really just therapy for me, but there are some things that I want to scream from the rooftops... the idea that I am a Doula still gives me tingles... I literally get to help a woman bring her baby into the world... It's an honor that I never would have imagined... I've assisted in the delivery of several babies over the last few years, and it's still the same "walking on air" feeling... the highest high I can imagine... I even delivered one little boy because the doctor was "getting coffee" when he decided it was time to make his grand entrance... Being able to actually "catch" that beautiful baby boy was one of the most memorable experiences I think I'll ever have... I still get goosebumps when I think about each and every birthing experience... Each woman is different in the way they handle their labor and delivery... and each delivery is exactly what it is meant to be... My single goal as a doula is to remind mom that whatever curve ball labor throws, it can be dealt with... Whether it's an unplanned epidural, fetal monitoring or an emergency c-section, I strive to remind mom (and any other family member present) that everything we encounter will be handled... Being a doula was never a part of my life's plan, but then again, my life's plan never involved alot of my experiences...
I'm hoping for the best while preparing for the worst... expecting anything and nothing all at the same time...
Charlie had to get up early, so I headed off to Hell to dance and chill with friends... So good to see Martha, Pudge and Jason... I had lots of silly fun... Danced a bit, if you can call it that, being that I'm still a bit of a gimp... Called Nic on the way home and demanded a peanut butter and jelly sandwich be waiting for my arrival at home... well, maybe not "demanded", more like "pleaded"... Came home at 230, made Nic play Dr Mario for like 20 minutes... stayed up til almost 5 watching insane reruns of "Roseanne" and tooled around on the web for a wee bit...
Couldn't seem to get going this morning, but the shower was calling... Was supposed to meet Moira for lunch today with her mom to discuss her baby's birth... Moira was Nic's friend back when they were like 14... They reconnected through myspace a few years ago and I adore her... She's an amazingly strong woman and has really left an amazing impression in my heart... We've rescheduled for next weekend and I'm hoping Jonah will also have his first swimming lesson with Tracy then... It'll be nice to go to Newport on a Saturday... It's been far too long...
IDK if anyone really cares to read this, since it's really just therapy for me, but there are some things that I want to scream from the rooftops... the idea that I am a Doula still gives me tingles... I literally get to help a woman bring her baby into the world... It's an honor that I never would have imagined... I've assisted in the delivery of several babies over the last few years, and it's still the same "walking on air" feeling... the highest high I can imagine... I even delivered one little boy because the doctor was "getting coffee" when he decided it was time to make his grand entrance... Being able to actually "catch" that beautiful baby boy was one of the most memorable experiences I think I'll ever have... I still get goosebumps when I think about each and every birthing experience... Each woman is different in the way they handle their labor and delivery... and each delivery is exactly what it is meant to be... My single goal as a doula is to remind mom that whatever curve ball labor throws, it can be dealt with... Whether it's an unplanned epidural, fetal monitoring or an emergency c-section, I strive to remind mom (and any other family member present) that everything we encounter will be handled... Being a doula was never a part of my life's plan, but then again, my life's plan never involved alot of my experiences...
I'm hoping for the best while preparing for the worst... expecting anything and nothing all at the same time...
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
why?
do people tend to pretend like they want something, when in fact it's NOT what they want at all?
I am so confused by people on a regular basis. There are many times that I find myself completely appalled by the fact that people are completely dishonest... This is not necessarily directed at me, but even just in their own lives.
I see people in everyday life that pretend that they want change, and do nothing to get there... (I used to belong to this category)... I also watch men and women in relationships who don't want to be there, yet they stay and keep their mouths shut because it's more convenient than breaking up... I see parents that act as though they take an active role in their child's lives, when in fact they don't even take the time to pay attention to the fact that their children are sad or lost or even take the time to find out who their friends are...
Recently, someone said some pretty terrible things about me, and about Nic. His opinion doesn't really matter, except maybe in his mind. However, when he decided that his opinions about our lives was more important than the respect that we've earned over the years, it's quite disheartening. I guess being there to pick someone up when they fall, take care of them when they're sick, support them when they're hungry or hurt, and love them unconditionally just isn't enough anymore.
I think that I'm pretty straight with people, actually, I know that I am. Sometimes it's a very positive experience, and at other times I now know that I should steer clear of certain situations. I've considered changing my approach with people, but I'm not sure how successful that would be, since it seems that many people simply pretend to care anyway...
I guess I'll see what happens... one way or another, I'll figure it out...
I am so confused by people on a regular basis. There are many times that I find myself completely appalled by the fact that people are completely dishonest... This is not necessarily directed at me, but even just in their own lives.
I see people in everyday life that pretend that they want change, and do nothing to get there... (I used to belong to this category)... I also watch men and women in relationships who don't want to be there, yet they stay and keep their mouths shut because it's more convenient than breaking up... I see parents that act as though they take an active role in their child's lives, when in fact they don't even take the time to pay attention to the fact that their children are sad or lost or even take the time to find out who their friends are...
Recently, someone said some pretty terrible things about me, and about Nic. His opinion doesn't really matter, except maybe in his mind. However, when he decided that his opinions about our lives was more important than the respect that we've earned over the years, it's quite disheartening. I guess being there to pick someone up when they fall, take care of them when they're sick, support them when they're hungry or hurt, and love them unconditionally just isn't enough anymore.
I think that I'm pretty straight with people, actually, I know that I am. Sometimes it's a very positive experience, and at other times I now know that I should steer clear of certain situations. I've considered changing my approach with people, but I'm not sure how successful that would be, since it seems that many people simply pretend to care anyway...
I guess I'll see what happens... one way or another, I'll figure it out...
Sunday, April 5, 2009
the plan...
for today:
1. Bake a cake for Nic (Funfetti with rainbow chip frosting)
1a. Hope Jonah does not get up in the middle of the night and eat said cake tonight.
2. Homemade baked mac and cheese with and without sausage.
3. Bring mac and cheese over to Arthur's house so he and Beth don't have to cook and can concentrate on the baby.
4. Convince Nic to go to the laundrymat so all our laundry is clean at the same time, instead of doing one load at a time. (I'll fold it all, but I can't carry it :( )
5. Think about and plan dinners for the rest of the week and delegate which nights I'll cook and which nights Nic will cook.
6. Think about what the next step is with Jonah, and have a written plan for the Psychiatrist for tomorrow. He's hurting himself again (picking scabs until they bleed and biting himself), and the midnight food raids are getting ridiculous. I am so sad. Sad, because even a doctor with years of experience with child psychiatry has never seen a kid with this compulsive food issue that only manifests at night. I hate medicating him, but I know it's for his own good. The mantra I keep repeating is "I wouldn't withhold medication for asthma, why would I not give him medicine for his mental health issues." But even then, it's not diminishing his "need to feed". It's really a bummer when you don't know what to do to help a kid that can't help himself. I love him so much, and every day I wake to find a mess, and a kid that's sad cuz he knows that what he's done isn't normal. All I can hope is to help him find some peace.
1. Bake a cake for Nic (Funfetti with rainbow chip frosting)
1a. Hope Jonah does not get up in the middle of the night and eat said cake tonight.
2. Homemade baked mac and cheese with and without sausage.
3. Bring mac and cheese over to Arthur's house so he and Beth don't have to cook and can concentrate on the baby.
4. Convince Nic to go to the laundrymat so all our laundry is clean at the same time, instead of doing one load at a time. (I'll fold it all, but I can't carry it :( )
5. Think about and plan dinners for the rest of the week and delegate which nights I'll cook and which nights Nic will cook.
6. Think about what the next step is with Jonah, and have a written plan for the Psychiatrist for tomorrow. He's hurting himself again (picking scabs until they bleed and biting himself), and the midnight food raids are getting ridiculous. I am so sad. Sad, because even a doctor with years of experience with child psychiatry has never seen a kid with this compulsive food issue that only manifests at night. I hate medicating him, but I know it's for his own good. The mantra I keep repeating is "I wouldn't withhold medication for asthma, why would I not give him medicine for his mental health issues." But even then, it's not diminishing his "need to feed". It's really a bummer when you don't know what to do to help a kid that can't help himself. I love him so much, and every day I wake to find a mess, and a kid that's sad cuz he knows that what he's done isn't normal. All I can hope is to help him find some peace.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
out of practice...
ever get the feeling that you'd be much better at something if you kept doing it? lol
That's how I feel about alot of things, but I'm not sure with writing. I want to keep writing, and I'm not sure if it's going to improve, but I'm determined to keep it up as a way to keep me sane.
I'm also going to try to keep my pics up to date on blip...
Check out my blip:
http://www.blipfoto.com/xobecky878xo
That's how I feel about alot of things, but I'm not sure with writing. I want to keep writing, and I'm not sure if it's going to improve, but I'm determined to keep it up as a way to keep me sane.
I'm also going to try to keep my pics up to date on blip...
Check out my blip:
http://www.blipfoto.com/xobecky878xo
testing...
Who goes for medical testing on a weekend? Well, me... of course.... Honestly, didn't know that they even did that, so it was actually pretty cool to get it out of the way today.
I had to go get an ultrasound of my kidneys and bladder today... it doesn't appear they've found any stones or anything to worry about, so that's great news... Seems I have nothing to worry about!
Jonah was awesome, sat by my side, watched them do their thing and played Nintendo DS... He asked lots of questions about the ultrasound and what they could see, and I realized that the last ultrasound I had was when I was pregnant with him! He was in awe that he could see so much on the screen, and asked for an explanation of how it worked... He seemed impressed!
Then came the hard part... My grandmother is in the locked psych ward at the same hospital and hasn't been doing very well (both physically and mentally), so I brought Jonah to see her. The nurse didn't want to let us in, but I insisted that he be allowed to at least see her for a few minutes and the nurse begrudgingly agreed. I mean, if things don't go well, I want to know that he was able to see her and tell her he loved her before anything happened...
Jonah was nervous, mostly because the other patients on the floor wanted his attention, and his anxiety made him a little pink in the cheeks... But, we made it to my grandmother's room and he was cool. She was actually yelling at 2 nurses that were trying to give her meds! I looked in the room and told her "Hey, if you want us to visit, you've gotta take that medicine"... she looked shocked, but swiped the pills from the nurse's hand and swallowed it right down.
She saw Jonah was nervous and immediately changed her mood. She was so warm and caring, and told Jonah she was sorry, and that he had nothing to be afraid of... that she was just sick of all the medicine that she has to take and sometimes gets grumpy with the nurses.
When I saw her there last week, she said some pretty inappropriate things... things I'd never expect to hear from a 70+ year old woman, but with Jonah in the room, she was an absolute peach. She was so quiet and kind, spoke softly to Jonah and told Jonah how happy she was that he was able to visit. We were only allowed to stay a very few minutes, but Jonah gave her a hug and told her he loved her and she did the same!
If that's the last time that he sees her, and I pray that it's not, at least he'll have seen her in a positive light...
I had to go get an ultrasound of my kidneys and bladder today... it doesn't appear they've found any stones or anything to worry about, so that's great news... Seems I have nothing to worry about!
Jonah was awesome, sat by my side, watched them do their thing and played Nintendo DS... He asked lots of questions about the ultrasound and what they could see, and I realized that the last ultrasound I had was when I was pregnant with him! He was in awe that he could see so much on the screen, and asked for an explanation of how it worked... He seemed impressed!
Then came the hard part... My grandmother is in the locked psych ward at the same hospital and hasn't been doing very well (both physically and mentally), so I brought Jonah to see her. The nurse didn't want to let us in, but I insisted that he be allowed to at least see her for a few minutes and the nurse begrudgingly agreed. I mean, if things don't go well, I want to know that he was able to see her and tell her he loved her before anything happened...
Jonah was nervous, mostly because the other patients on the floor wanted his attention, and his anxiety made him a little pink in the cheeks... But, we made it to my grandmother's room and he was cool. She was actually yelling at 2 nurses that were trying to give her meds! I looked in the room and told her "Hey, if you want us to visit, you've gotta take that medicine"... she looked shocked, but swiped the pills from the nurse's hand and swallowed it right down.
She saw Jonah was nervous and immediately changed her mood. She was so warm and caring, and told Jonah she was sorry, and that he had nothing to be afraid of... that she was just sick of all the medicine that she has to take and sometimes gets grumpy with the nurses.
When I saw her there last week, she said some pretty inappropriate things... things I'd never expect to hear from a 70+ year old woman, but with Jonah in the room, she was an absolute peach. She was so quiet and kind, spoke softly to Jonah and told Jonah how happy she was that he was able to visit. We were only allowed to stay a very few minutes, but Jonah gave her a hug and told her he loved her and she did the same!
If that's the last time that he sees her, and I pray that it's not, at least he'll have seen her in a positive light...
Friday, April 3, 2009
Jonah holds baby Arthur for the first time...
Jonah's anxiety issues make it hard for him to be around kids, especially babies...
Today, he saw his baby cousin in a more comfortable environment... at my brother's place.
I asked if he wanted to hold the baby, and he froze for a sec... He then got a big smile, like he has in this pic... He asked when the baby would learn to talk, and to walk... He asked when he could teach him math! I think they'll be great friends and hope that since it's unlikely that Jonah will have a sibling, that he'll build a strong relationship with his baby cousin...
I look forward to all the time we'll have to spend together!
motivation...
is hard to come by today... I've spent most of my week back and forth from doctor's appointments and PT, and tons of time at the hospital with my brother's new baby...
I woke up this morning to a call from my brother... We chatted about his hospital discharge with the baby and I hung up, set the phone on my chest and thought I'd stretch out for a few minutes more... I woke up 90 minutes later and couldn't believe the time... Thankfully, I had cancelled PT in preparation for having to help with the baby today, and because the last appointment made me feel as though my back was actually WORSE instead of better... I realized I hadn't taken my meds, and that I'd likely pay for it... well, I was right...
I've found every reason in the book not to get in the shower and even now sit here blogging/blipping/twittering/FBing/MSing all to avoid the inevitable... It's now 30 minutes before my son's bus arrives home from school, so I'm going to get in the shower NOW, but, I'll still admit it feels like I'm forcing myself to do something I shouldn't...
I don't think anyone actually reads this, but I have to say... it's therapeutic to get this crap out of my head and written down somewhere...
I woke up this morning to a call from my brother... We chatted about his hospital discharge with the baby and I hung up, set the phone on my chest and thought I'd stretch out for a few minutes more... I woke up 90 minutes later and couldn't believe the time... Thankfully, I had cancelled PT in preparation for having to help with the baby today, and because the last appointment made me feel as though my back was actually WORSE instead of better... I realized I hadn't taken my meds, and that I'd likely pay for it... well, I was right...
I've found every reason in the book not to get in the shower and even now sit here blogging/blipping/twittering/FBing/MSing all to avoid the inevitable... It's now 30 minutes before my son's bus arrives home from school, so I'm going to get in the shower NOW, but, I'll still admit it feels like I'm forcing myself to do something I shouldn't...
I don't think anyone actually reads this, but I have to say... it's therapeutic to get this crap out of my head and written down somewhere...
Thursday, April 2, 2009
sleepy thoughts...
Finally a decent picture of me with my nephew...
He's only a few days old and already changed so many lives... I can only hope that with each passing day, the lives continue to improve and that he feels as much love as he deserves!
When my son was born, my life changed so dramatically, and so quickly... I didn't even know it was happening...
Somehow, I knew this new little boy was going to be an answer to some prayers... I just had no idea that I'd see the changes so quickly, and that his effect would be so profound.
You might notice how tired I look, but I couldn't be happier!
I'll have to spend the weekend making up all the lost time with Jonah... Maybe a trip to the park, or zoo, since it'll be such a beautiful weekend... Looking forward to some quality time, and maybe even sleeping in a bit... But I won't hold my breathe...
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
day one...
I've never been very good at follow through... something inside always seemed to stop me from moving forward...
Today is a new day, one which I hope breaks the long pattern of disappointment with my lack of committment and my inability to get things done... Turns out that I have adult ADHD... At 30 years old, I am told that all these years of being unable to finish things and to make simple choices like others around me is because of an "executive function deficiency"... At first, I kind of thought that the doctor was crazy, but as I sit and look back at my life, the description seems appropriate... My brain doesn't let me put things in order the way they should be... Instead, I spend all my time trying to sort through things in some random order and hope that it all works out...
I've spent the last two years trying to help my amazingly brilliant son deal with his mental health issues... I do my best to help him thrive in a sea of uncertainty... all the while suffering silently as I fight just to maintain some semblance of normalcy, for him... for my family... Now, I find out that taking a couple of pills every day, seeing a cognitive behavioral therapist, learning some new coping techniques, and just recognizing where I need help may be all that I've ever needed... I'm not a failure, I just failed to see there was something wrong... or maybe I just denied that there was something wrong because I thought that something was REALLY wrong...
I want today to be a good day... I will make today good day... I'll visit the hospital again, to snuggle my brand new nephew... I'll sneak my son into the hospital to catch a peek at his new cousin! I'll watch as my brother holds his son with a look of awe and know that he finally understands what being a dad, and a man, is about... I'll watch as Beth slowly, but gladly, adjusts to the demands of motherhood, reminding her that all she has to do is her best and everything will be alright! I'll watch as my brother looks adoringly at the woman who gave him the most amazing gift of his life...
I'll cry inside, and maybe outside too, as I think about how happy my father would be if he were here and able to hold his two grandsons in his arms... Instead, he lays 6 feet below the earth thanks to an accident over twenty years ago... an accident that ripped him away from his family, with no warning and no time to say goodbye or complete any unfinished business... I know he'd be proud of me, and of my brother... I know in my heart that he'd accept and encourage all the choices that we've made, because that's just who he was... I remember how forgiving he was, and how he accepted everything at face value, without judgement... I remember my father's smile, and I see it in my brother's face, as he looks at his new son...
I cried as I hugged my brother last night, and told him how proud I was of him... And I cried as I told him what he already knew, that our father would have been proud of who he's become...
Now I wait, for the changes to happen... for my life to finally reach a point where normal feels normal...
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