Hate and love, all wrapped together

Mom called this morning, Dad is bad and wants me. 

I of course came as fast as I safely could. 

He is having a really bad day. The kind of day that you do not see any light at the end, or more so you don't want that kind of light, you want peace and release from your physical bonds. 

He asked me to hold him. I held him and Mom and I told him it's ok to go. We told him how much we love him.  I told him how proud I am of his fight. I told him that it was ok to stop fighting. He said he's tired of fighting. 

I told him that he's stubborn and everyone who knows me knows where my stubbornness.  He laughed about that and said "I'm stubborn!"

He fell into a peaceful sleep. We did get him to eat a bowl of ice cream. I fed it to him and he ate every bite. 

He's sleeping again now. He just said he's feeling a little better. He's still tired, but he's responsive. 

I love my Dad. I love that I can comfort him. 

I hate this disease. I hate watching Parkinson's rob him of so much!  I hate not being able to make him better!

But I love and treasure that when he needs it, I can be his strength. 

Karen the destroyer

So yesterday was not a good day.  Not in the sense of the days I've been having, but in hindsight, better than the old days.

I had pain that was beyond my normal level and it was rough.  It was preventing me from doing anything, walking, sitting, getting up, the usual things a person likes to do even on their laziest days.

The pain made me tired.  The pain made me isolate myself.  Pain ... it makes me crawl into my shell and not come out.  I'm not sure why I feel so guarded when I have intense pain.  When I had the car crash I can remember trying not to let others see how badly I hurt, because I didn't want to upset them.  I'm sure I did a poor job of hiding it, but I tried.

Even now I try to hide it.  I don't know if I'm afraid I'll be seen as the weakest in the pack and taken down?  I haven't felt like someone's hunting me ...

I think in some ways it's a PTSD thing.  Severe pain takes me back to the worst times in my life.  Yes, I'm aware that in general people try to avoid long sessions of intense pain.  There are those who *ahem* may enjoy that in their lives, but for the most part I think it's a universal dislike.  Otherwise there would be toe stubbing competitions.

When the pain is a constant, jarring reality I think part of my brain instantly reflects on my time in the hospital.  The pain, the loneliness, and pulling away from the world because I don't want to bring anyone else down with my blues ... all of it comes back naturally and effortlessly.  I think there is also a part of me that realizes everyone has their own pain and to each of us it's the worst, so just, yeah, shut up about it.

Yesterday it felt like someone was shoving a screw driver into my knee.  It's been bugging me a week, but Tuesday's workout made it flare up something fierce.  It was enough that I went to biting my lips and cheeks again.  (I always did that so no one would know how much pain I was in.  I won't scream if I do that.  Great trick if I'm ever being tortured ....)  I wanted to scream.  Oh how I wanted to wail.  The closest I came was to hide in the bathroom at home and let a few tears of frustration come out.

Last night I met up with my new physical therapist, Amanda, for my first session of warm water therapy.  I talked to her about the pain, where it was, what I hoped it was, and thankfully see agreed that it wasn't my worst fear (joint degeneration) but a painful, but less damaging issue of scar tissue.

The water therapy is nice and not nice.  Moving and working out in warm water feels great, the buoyancy is amazing, but you get so tired and warm that at some point you feel like the main course cooking at a cannibal dinner party.

After my workout she gave me a few suggestions to try to alleviate the pain and this morning I gave the most drastic of the options a go.

She suggested if I could, grab the offending section of tissue, dig my fingers in, and try to scoop and pop it out like I was working on a giant pimple.

So while in the bathroom this morning I got a good grip and I pinched.  And I pinched.  And the scream in my head would have woke the neighborhood if I'd let it out.

The spot is still tender.  I won't be shocked if I have a bruise.  Most important though (besides the fact I can inflict THIS much pain on myself) is that it's better.  Like instantly better.  No more wimpering when I get up!

So yesterday was filled with not as great choices as I would like to have made.  Still, I didn't drown my emotions in hot fudge or chips.  I just ate more points than I'd planned to eat.  Today I'm reinvested, not just counting my points, but making the points COUNT.

Only two more sessions with Diablo, tonight and Tuesday.  I'm going to miss the little devil ....

whine with no points for cheese

Today is not a good day.

I hurt.

I've taken tylenol, aleve, and arthritis medicine.  Burning a hole through my stomach doesn't matter.

I'm tired.

I'm whiney.

I'm over emotional.

My period started.

I've eaten more points than I need to today.

Hopefully the warm water therapy tonight for my fibromyalgia will put me in a better frame of mind. 

Either way, tomorrow is new day.

The chosen people ...

Every once in a while someone comes into your life that makes such an impression on you that they become a vital component of who you are and who you can become.  I've been so fortunate this way. 

There was Lori, my nurse at Rockford Memorial after the car crash. She was the one who helped me through the hardest, darkest times.  We had so many heart to heart talks and her friendship still means so much to me. She gave me faith to believe that the crash wasn't where my story ended. 

Many years later, about half way through this go at Weight Watchers, we were informed we were getting yet another new leader. I was frustrated and said to a friend "if this turns out to be some leader who's all 'yeah! I lost 30 pounds and look at me now!' I am quitting."

I've told her the story, but I'll share. When she stood in front of us I saw her name tag and a very large number on it. Followed by the words "I lost."  I believe the number was about 220. I remember leaning over to my friend Megan and saying "well there goes all my f-ing excuses!"

Nothing beats God dropping proof right in your lap. I said I would quit if it was someone I couldn't relate to. Not only did I relate on a weight loss level, but since we have a similar sense of humor, I was thrilled. I considered her the cool kid, so getting to know her was a bonus. Now she's my friend who used to be my leader. Apparently God knows I needed a force like Jen!

Then came Diablo. Okay, Chris. And maybe he's not the love child of Satan and Hitler (maybe!). I've worked with some wonderful therapists and trainers (shout out to Kay) but this ... this isn't something I can explain except that God knew I needed Chris AND I was ready for his message. 

I've worked with Chris five times. Not even five full hours, but his effect on my life will last as if I was branded. 

Tonight we worked and talked. I have three sessions left and he's leaving soon, so it's become this crunch to show me enough stuff to keep me challenged and to help me reach my potential.  It was amazing to hear him talk about where he expects me to be in four years. 

Never once did the thought "four years?? Are you nuts??!!!??" go through my head. Instead I saw this vision he had for me and realized four years, hell yeah!

Going in tonight I told him about my week, my Independence Day, and the baggage I let go of. His response was to bounce around the room, arms raised like Rocky, with the biggest smile I've seen from him. 

He said he was so happy that my attitude caught up with the confidence he's seen in me. 

Me? Confident?  

Then he told me who he sees when he sees me. 

Then he told me what everyone else who watching me is thinking. I said I always say what's the worst thing they can say?  Look at the fat woman working out?

He said to hell with anyone who thinks negative. He said those who are athletic and do these effortless workouts are worthless as inspiration.   He said anyone who is afraid can watch me and see their own possibilities and anyone else who's busting their ass sees me as one of them. 

All these people ... and others... brought into my life exactly when I was open to receiving their messages.  

All of them strong people. 

Each of them so different. 

Each of them so priceless.  

Boom boom boom, even brighter than the moon moon moon!

So this happened ....

For many years I've wanted to add to my piercings.  Many.  Like over 6 years at least.  But something has always held me back.

Yesterday I figured out what was holding me back.  It was my worry about what everybody else would think!  Would they think it's stupid?  Silly?  Inappropriate?  Ugly? 

I realized something very important.  All these years I've cared more about other people's happiness more than my own.  I finally had the comprehension that I was caring more about other people than I was caring for myself.

This especially was brought to my focus after swallowing my fears about posting to FB about my goals and intentions.  I was so afraid to share that post.  So afraid to open myself to judgment.  Doing it was liberating and exhilarating.   Many people have no idea how guarded I am with what I share and who I trust.

I wasn't sure what I'd get in response to that post.  As expected, my girlfriends who always have my back chimed in.  I know they are there for me, but baring my soul a bit and having them love me just the same was awesome.  There are some others that I hoped might give me the thumbs up, but didn't.  I could have felt sad about that, but that's not what I took from it.  Instead I took the insight that doing what makes me happy and healthy is what matters, not what other people think or don't think.

For what ever reason some people didn't acknowledge my post and it doesn't matter.  Maybe they didn't see it or didn't like it or maybe they don't even care or they do care, but don't know what to say.  That's OK, I didn't need their permission or approval to make my declaration.  At the time I failed to see how it applied to the rest of my life.  You know, until that moment it hit me.

I've spent most of my life putting other people's happiness over my own.  If you hurt me with your actions and your words, I will hide and cry, but I will never ever treat you the same way back because it might hurt your feelings.  I'm not changing myself in that way.  I'd rather be nice to someone than cause them pain, but I'm letting myself be happy first.  I've been told this many times, but it never truly sunk in with me, but who cares what other people think?  Really, who cares if they are even thinking anything about me, because they might not be.

How sad that I've wanted to pierce my ear for well over 6 years, but didn't because I didn't want to hear the comments.  How sad that I denied myself something based just on someone's comfort level.  How sad that I didn't .... well, how sad for a lot of things.

But that's not my message here.  This isn't about sadness, it's about empowering myself.  I said that yesterday was my Independence Day.  Yep, my personal one.  It clicked yesterday.  I said to myself "self -- let's do it!"  OK, I didn't say that.  It was more a "ooooo I'm doing it!" and off I went.  

It made me happier than I thought it would!  I smile when I see my ear in the mirror!

My celebration of my independence.

Didn't know all those fireworks were for me now, did you?

Declaring my intentions

I am going to get stronger. 

I am going to get leaner. 

I am going to crush my goals.