Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Wanted: Schrödinger's Cat, Dead or Alive

I'm catching something. Or are am I? Scratchy throat, cough, sinus draining, a feeling of general malaise. Yup, that sounds like the dawning of a new virus. I'm assuming it's not bacterial, because I've been on Cipro for several days. Whatever, what I wouldn't give for a warm purry cat to snuggle up to.

Update: according to the wound care nurse: one of my open wounds on my posterior 
"Looks terrible!" Then said something about how deep it is and if it goes on like this pretty soon the bone will be showing. That's a stage four and would probably need more surgery. I am less than thrilled at that prospect as that would mean months more of healing. Been there before. Don't like it, not even a smidgen.

Be here now. Only "now" is pretty miserable. Can't win for losin'. But at least there's no need so spin my wheels about anything I'll just let things unfold as they will.

Think I'll distract myself with Netflix and Hulu. Not much more I can do.

I wish you a restful, peaceful today and tomorrow, full of laughter and unconditional love.


PS. I think I forgot to post this on Facebook after I wrote it. Oops!

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Happy Ruts to Be in

It is so nice to be at "home" again from the hospital. I've never actually hated being at this nursing home, but have been extremely disgruntled with the idea that I will contine to be imprisoned in this situation for the rest of my life without any chance of developing any kind of independence.

One thing I believe would help me would be to edit and format the book I wrote about my life since I became a paraplegic. I don't know why I've been so reluctant to begin the process. Fear and inertia, I suppose.

Must seek out a decent publishing app and begin. Since I have to do it all on an iPad, it's a little more challenging.

I find it somewhat strange to be feeling so perky after thinking I might die. I'm prepared to happliy toss all my crayons into the air and skip down the tunnel toward going to spirit. But I'm equally prepared to stay in this life to see how much more I can accomplish before it's time to go. I'm beginning to get a glimmer of an idea of what I need to do while I'm still here and it's amazing.

This seems, to me, to be embarking reluctantly on a grand adventure. An epic journey. Being dragged, kicking and screaming into becoming some kind of hero. Well, maybe not a hero, per se. You know what I mean.

Too late tonight, though. Will keep you apprised of my progress.

Pursue your dreams, my dear friends. Time goes by so much faster than we realize. Who knows how much beauty you could unlock and release into the world? Don't wait until it's nearly too late, like I have.

Dream of your fondest wishes, peeps, then make them come true. 


Re: Dexter. Never watched it before. Will be catching up, then be sad when it's over. I can't wait! :-)


Thursday, February 6, 2014

Home again, home again, jiggity-jig

I'm back at the nursing home from the hospital. Ah, familiarity!

Am soooo tired. I fell asleep and the nurse couldn't wake me up for a few hours after I got back. I was zonked.

As for my diagnosis, i was suffering fron Atrial Fibrillation, which is when the upper two chambers of a heart goof off, stop squeezing blood into the lower two chambers and start twitching randomly like an insane ballroom dancer. Meanwhile, the lower two chambers, who don't have a clue that the upper two chambers have gone batshit-crazy, try to do their job, but can't. So that evidently leads to a lot of chest pain. If not attended to, this situation can subsequently lead to a stroke or a heart attack, neither of which are acceptable to me.

This has never happened to me before. Never felt pain in my chest like that, ever. So I wasn't sure what was going to happen. As it turned out, the condition can be controlled with medication. But I was finding death to be a possible outcome. Pretty heavy-duty stuff to think about.

I found out that I have no fear of dying. In fact, the thought kind of cheered me up. I do have feelings of sadness at the thought of leaving my loved ones behind. So I'm OK with staying around longer, too.  Either outcome, I realized, is OK with me. I can't really lose. I can only benefit, either way.

But I do have a renewed sense of urgency to get things in place, like getting pre-registered to donate my body to medical research. No more procrastinating on that.

However, right now, I'm going to relax and try to catch up on my sleep. So goodnight, you wonderful people.  Have happy dreams that flow into your tomorrows.






Wednesday, February 5, 2014

The End.....?

Woke up at 5 pm with chest pains. Vitals are so-so, but not bad. Never had a pain like this before, right in the center of my chest. Got some antacid and a pain pill from the nurse and we're waiting for a callback from my doctor. It's probably not serious. I'm both hoping it's not serious and hoping it is. I don't want to leave the people I love, but a part of me is shouting, "Yes! Finally! Peace and comfort and Lyra!"

Later: nurse gave me 3 nitroglycerine tablets. Feels like somebody lit a bonfire under my tongue. The pain and my BP are lessened, but still too high. Going to the hospital now. More later, if possible.

Time has passed. Am in the hell known as the ER with an IV sticking out of my right wrist. Oh so convenient. I mean, of course inconvenient. Have oxygen in my nose. Its tubes cross around my cheeks and meet under my chin. Now I have an idea of how a dog wearing a cone around its head feels.

I am no longer in pain, except for my wrist and my neck from having to hold my head up to see this, mostly because there's no head pillow. So, no cause to panic. Looks like I still have things to do in this life.

Well, a doctor came in. I was hurting again, just a little, so she said they will be rubbing some nitroglycerin paste on my chest to help with the pain. I can hardly wait for the headache and burning sensation that are sure to follow. 

I have no idea if I'll be admitted or sent back tonight. That'll be addressed in tomorrow's blog because I could be in the ER for hours more.

So, so long, my wonderful peeps. Be full of joy for me if I really do shuffle off this mortal coil because I'll be in a much happier place. Otherwise, cya later. Love you all. ❤






Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Like Pulling Teeth

I grow weary of writing about bad news. I'll bet whoever, if anybody, is reading my blog is weary of reading nothing but bad news, too.

A dentist examined my teeth today. That is the first time I've seen one in years. She kept tapping on my individual teeth and saying things to her assistant like "(tap) Number twelve gone. ( tap) Number 11 gone" and so-forth until I lost count of how many teeth she said were "gone." I didn't know exactly what she meant by "gone." Most of my teeth are still there, though I'm missing a few, but not as many as the number she said were "gone." It sounded so... so final! Turned out, not surprsingly, that she wants to pull out a bunch of my teeth. I asked how many and she said, "Without x-rays... six."

I'll be the first to admit that I'm terrified of dentists. No, that's wrong. What I'm actually terrified of is having dentists doing unspeakable things to my teeth. Like pulling them out. When I think of going to have multitudes of my teeth yanked out, my mind runs screaming and hides in a closet.

So I decided to hang onto my teeth as long as I can. I'm not in pain, don't have sensitivity in my teeth. I'm willing to wait until they become a problem to give them up. It makes perfect sense to me. So I don't want to hear any horror stories about what could happen if I don't go ahead and have them removed right away. My mind is made up and that's that.

As for the rest of me, my wounds are healing well, even the new spot on my back. It's looking more like I have a chance of getting the orthopedic surgery on my legs. And the more likely it becomes, the more apprehensive I become. For me, it's like jumping off a cliff without knowing if it's 6 feet to the bottom, or 600. And I'm even more afraid that I won't be able to get The surgery. From where I sit, it's like looking into a thick wall of fog that has scary noises drifting out of it.

When I'm not fretting about that, I'm huffing and  puffing with consternation and flaring my nostrils with indignation. Someone had been coming into my abode while I was asleep, throwing things away that I wanted to keep, like the last piece of some date-nut bread that I was planning to eat, and a plastic bag containing packets of condiments that were very handy to have since the kitchen here is very stingy with them. Also, this person moved things around, even hiding some of them in my closet so that I didn't know where anything was. It's not as if I can get up and search for things, you know.

Today one of the workers came in and, without a word to me, began rearranging my things. She started to stuff my soft drinks in the closet but I told her not to. Then she "inspected" everything on my bedside tables, and grabbed things that I need to have with reach, like a few napkins which I took away from her. She seems to believe that, when I need some of these objects that are crowded onto my bedside tables, it's a simple matter to get them from across the room, by using The Force or some such levitation capability. 

This is driving me crazy! You can bet that if someone went into her house and started deciding what needed to be thrown out and then rearranged all the furniture and belongings to suit themselves, she wouldn't like that at all. This little tiny half of a room isn't much, but it's MINE ! Pfffft! I'm going to talk to the administrator, if I can get hold of him, and tell him that this is utterly unacceptable. It's disrespectful. Sure, this space is part of the nursing home, but it's where I live and that should be respected.

Grrrr.

And that is that, dear friends. Take care of you and yours, sweet people.

Below: Goldilocks is apprehended.





Sunday, February 2, 2014

The Down-Home Guide to Spiritual Alchemy

Have you ever been duct-taped to a wall? I haven't. If you have, I want pictures. I have so many conflicting images rushing at me, around me and through me I need duct tape. A lot of it. Otherwise, I might just fly away at a Warp 10 speed of confusion.

Love is the key. I got that much straight. But I can't find the lock. Besides, I think the door is locked from the inside.

OK, OK.... I realize I'm crawling around in the dark, trying to make sense of where I'm going, so lost I don't even know where there IS to go.

It has something to do with magic and the alchemy of turning my leaden heart to gold. Better than gold. I'm getting the hang of it, I think. Sometimes I can actually feel my spirit opening up for a split-second, and it just floods through me -- the beauty and peace and joy. Then it's just an echo again.

I yearn for that. I yearn to be so complete with it that it overflows everywhere I go and goes into other people so that they glow from the inside and spread it to the next person, and on and on. 

I watched a video about Eckhart Tolle, who is well known in spiritual circles. He said that he was leading a typically dreary, heart-heavy existence. Then one night he awoke early, before dawn, and it suddenly all made sense to him. He was joyous and at peace, and never stopped feeling that way again.

Apparently, my guardian angels are slacking off. His experience, awakening, enlightenment -- whatever you want to call it -- seems so facile. I'd like to have a breakthrough like that. I'm happy for him, of course. I don't begrudge him his good fortune. Well, maybe a little.

Oh, hell. I feel like a kid who was last in line and they ran out of lollipops just as they got to me.

But I'm not ready to give up. I have good news. The abcess on my abdomen is beginning to close up, and the wounds on my bottom are doing well. One is almost completely healed. On the other hand, the spot in the middle of my back is getting worse. This will be the third go-round in the very same spot since last May. Problem is, scar tissue is weak and each time I get an infection there it creates more scar tissue, which weakens it more and makes it more likely to become infected. Grrrr.

But I'm not going to cry my eyes out this time. I'll just take things one at a time. There are forces at work here that are about as impossible for me to control as the weather.

Speakng of weather, today I watched snow fall for hours. I didn't sleep at all last night so I was awake to see the first tiny flakes buzzing crazily around. Then the snow grew larger and faster, going straight down, then one way then another until it was flying in every direction at once. It soothed my soul. Finally, the flakes were small again, looking like tiny winged creatures searching for the others. So beautiful.

It's been a good day, all in all. Hope yours was too. Be safe and happy. ❤










Saturday, February 1, 2014

Riding a Drunken Horse

My inner consciousness and outer consciousness seem to be dukeing it out, claiming each is in control. Ever see "All of Me" with Steve Martin and Lily Tomlin? If not, try to see it. Soooo funny. There's a scene where both of them are inhabiting one body and they each want control. The result, in the film, is knee-slapping hilarity.

That's how I feel. Only I'm fighting myself. My earthly personality is strong and stubborn and afraid to let go. My inner self is not as strong, but is equally stubborn. It doesn't really want to take control. But it wants to be allowed to grow stronger. When it is briefly allowed to shine, all of me feels better.

But my earthly self, the fearful, cynical, depressed and anxious self is like an all-devouring monster that pounces on whatever peace and joy I manage to find, often obliterating all sight of them behind a cloud of sadness.

No, I don't suffer from dual personalities or a form of schizophrenia. I'm just recognizing that the part of me that lives in and reacts to the physical world, is getting in the way of my spiritual progress in a major way. I'm still me, but there's a lot more to me than I've realized during the major part of my time in this life.

Does that sound crazy? It doesn't to me. (Maybe that, alone, should cause me concern.) But I realize that, to the casual observer, reading my blog entries is a lot like watching someone trying to ride an inebriated horse. It feels a lot like that, too.

Somehow, I need to sober this horse up and get it to work in cooperation with me.

Wish me luck.

Love to you all, with much joy and peace shining through. Keep your horses sober. Life's so much easier that way.