Alter Everything

Day 365: Starting Over

525,600 minutes.
525,000 moments so dear.
525,600 minutes.
How do you measure,
measure a year?
-Rent

If you've ever seen the musical Rent, you know the Seasons of Love song. With just a few simple words, it captures the struggle we all have: to experience joy and pain and treasure it all equally.

This past year has been like that.  365 days of inches, miles, laughter, and strife.

So many nights, I thought I was going to die.
So many blessings...created from misery.

There are no words to describe what it's like to cry out, night after night, drowning in the dark.
Or, how much you appreciate an "ordinary day," once it's escaped you.

I can't express it now, but I hope these 365  (or so) posts somehow did.

I'm grateful for that AND for you.

Thanks for listening.

 Here's to what's next.

Altered Today: Peace, Completion

Day 325: Because You Can't Frown And Listen

If you ever need a little bit of cheering, head straight to Garibaldi's Mexican Restaurant to see their Mariachi band. Even if your chest hurts, the steak is underdone, or you can't eat the fried ice cream, just the sound of those guitars, horns, and voices will make you smile...guaranteed.

We didn't set out for adventure tonight, but beneath the festive lights and colorful banners, we found it--a slice of heaven here on earth. My face actually hurts from smiling.

 

You're welcome.

Altered Today: How I spend my spoons

Day 252: A Touch of Nostalgia...Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Remember your first love? The one that got away? The one you kissed at the bus stop? Made out with in the basement?  I LOVE love--finding it, missing it, embracing it. IT truly makes life worth while.

I met my first love on a Junior High Ski trip. I hadn't skied before, but that didn't stop me from plowing a Black Diamond.  Within seconds, I knew I was in trouble. I lost control...crashing into the boy who would preoccupy most of my adolescent future.

There were lots of "firsts" with Craig: first kiss, first dance, first midnight movie, first concert (REO Speedwagon and Survivor). We were so innocent. In my mind, he will always be A-MAZ-ING!! 

Even today, when I hear Sister Christian or Can't Fight This Feeling, I think of him. I still remember sitting on my blue flowered bed, clutching his white teddy bear, crying. We ended for stupid reasons. It was my choice.  I regretted it.

As I worked through my grief (and he his), we went through a series of stages...one involving a radio request and dedication line...communicating back and forth through song.  Something, I think, most girls can relate to. 

If you've ever been in love, had your heart broken, or burst into tears over Against All Odds, you must, must, MUST listen to this podcast about Love and Heartbreak from This American Life (honestly, it's the creme de la creme of grieving).

Quick, pass me a wine cooler.

Altered Today: Laughing at my 14 year old self

Day 245: Slip Slidin' Away

"A good day ain't got no rain.  A bad day's when I lie in bed and I think of things that might have been."
-Simon & Garfunkel

I just got a pen out of my truck.  It was sitting in my box of volunteer supplies--a reminder of my old self; the one who led classes, spoke in public, and contributed to the world.  By my cup holder, another item--a name tag that's officially dusty.  "Introduction Leader" it says...something I no longer am. It's been almost a year. 

I'm not sure how long one should take to dispose of such things, but I'm pretty sure 12 months is close.  For a minute, I feel like the person holding on to the belongings of a deceased loved one, clinging to what's left rather than creating something new.

Things have changed. I can't deny it. And, if I could, just gripping a pen and writing three sentences on a napkin snaps me back to reality. Time to let go of notions:

• about life
• about healing
• that "I" will ever be the "me" I once knew

It's not a bad thing.  After all, the struggle makes the butterfly. Still, the search is dislocating.  Like Alice in Alice in Wonderland...

Caterpillar: Who are YOU?

Alice: I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.

Caterpillar: What do you mean by that? Explain yourself!

Alice: I can't explain MYSELF, I'm afraid, sir, because I'm not myself, you see.

Caterpillar: I don't see.

Alice: I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly, for I can't understand it myself to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.

Caterpillar: It isn't.

Alice: Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet, but when you have to turn into a chrysalis--you will some day, you know--and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll feel it a little queer, won't you?

Caterpillar: Not a bit.

Alice: Well, perhaps your feelings may be different, all I know is, it would feel very queer to ME.

Caterpillar:  You! Who are YOU?

Thank goodness....

Altered Today: Possibilities/Plans for the future

Day 221: Geeking Out With Wayne Newton

Wayne Newton owns a ranch called "Shenandoah" in Las Vegas.

How do I know?

My husband told me as we listened to Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me!.

"How do you know that?" I asked, laughing hysterically.
"I don't know. I just do," he chuckled, before returning to our regularly scheduled programming.

For 10 minutes, we listen to Peter Sagal interview Wayne about various aspects of life:

His fans (called Wayniacs).
His ranch (you already know that one).
His pets...including horses, penguins, wallabies.

Did you know there are 52 species of penguins in the world, but only three come from the Arctic? 
According to Wayne, the rest are from South America--specifically the Galapagos Islands.

But I digress.

We then proceed to listen as Wayne plays a challenging game of:
"Hey, Wait A Minute - You Don't Have A Delicious Fig Filling."

He aces the first question.
Yes, the Fig Newton made its marketing debut by trying to start a dance craze called "The Big Fig."

Bombs the second one.
No, Apple's failed product "Newton" was not the result of some crazy dream.

And, strikes out on the 3rd.
Olivia Newton John really did sing the duet "Summer Nights" with a rescued Chilean miner.

Sorry Wayne.

Anywho...that's what WE do for fun on a Sunday.

 
source

And YOU???

Altered Today: Wayne Newton Wisdom.
Yes Baby, you were right.  That wasn't a girl singing Danke Schoen...

Day 211: The Race To Nowhere

                                                                                     photo by twotoneatl via PhotoRee
                                                                       

It's official; I have a double chin. Not like that's news...I've been heavy for a while. But, for some reason, today, it's really bothering me.

"Do I have to feel like crap and look like crap too?" I cringed, when I saw one of my tea party photos.

My next three thoughts were just as disempowering:

"You have friends that can't even sit up and you're worried about your chin?"
"At least your body's working. Be glad it's supporting you."
"Really, with everything going on, you're gonna worry about how you look?"

....and on and on and on.

They are all some version of the same conversation: "I should be this, not that."

It's not a new thing; I've been "shoulding" on myself for years.

I should be more successful.
I should live somewhere else.
I should be more grateful for what I have.
And, most recently, I should be getting better faster. And, if not, I should at least be skinny...especially with my boring diet of nuts, beans, meat, veg, fruits, and cheese.

The problem with "shoulding?" It traps me in a world of something's wrong...with me, you, life, everything (and, you know, I shouldn't be wasting my time there).

So, today, rather than obsess about how I should or shouldn't be feeling or what I should or shouldn't be doing about it, I'm giving myself a gift: acceptance.

I have what I have. I don't have what I don't have. I am where I am. I'm not where I'm not.

Moving on...

 

Altered Today: Compassion, love for my humanity.

Day 195: A Day Around the Wheel

If you're lucky enough to be driving down Lakemont Avenue in Winter Park at 9:33 in the morning, you might see a guy walking along--in a white t-shirt, brown pants, and a blue, ball cap. He kind of shuffles as he moves, a little bit here and there.  What's distinctive about him is his wave; every car, every person, everything he sees that passes with life, he acknowledges.

As I saw him this morning on my way to my Cardiology/Neurology appointments, I couldn't help but appreciate the human spirit and how we all just want to connect with somebody. For some, that connection comes in the form of family dinners. For others, it arrives via chance encounters with the mailman, the pizza delivery guy, or the gas attendant at Costco.

Several mornings, I've passed him...each time giving an extra wave...for the car in front of me and the car behind...just in case they don't happen to be looking. This morning, I also topped it off with a beep. Not a BEEEEEP!  A pleasant beep, beep...the kind that says: "Hi. I'm here. I see you."

I love that guy.  I don't even know him, but I love him. And one of these days I'm going to walk beside him, break out some sneakers, and go down the street, just so we can wave together.

Somehow, just keeping him in the back of mind today, made everything better.  It was an annoying morning/afternoon (comical visit to the Neurologist/tiring stress test/chest x-ray/EKG/3 hour wait to see the Cardiologist), but it started/ended nicely...mostly due to his greeting, a good meal, time with friends, and an unexpected surprise...a beautiful piano serenade from my new favorite musician Lisa.

I appreciate all of the different connections I made today--with food, music, x-ray techs, old men, friends, and my emotions.  In hindsight, even my annoyance with the Cardiology office was a blessing. It's been a long time since I had the energy to be angry. Good to know there's still fire in my belly.  Also nice to know I can recover...

Altered Today: Heart/Head Concerns, Friendships, Lyme Awareness, Standing Up for Myself as a Patient.

Pssst....Getting stronger by the minute. Five days with no nap and counting. Go Rocephin...GO!!!

Day 192: My Wish for You

I'll never forget the day I found out John Denver died.  It was 1997 and I was sitting in my dingy, grey cubicle at Cintas...my first "official" sales job.  I'm not sure how I found out...if a customer told me, if I heard it on the radio, if my co-worker mentioned it (which is what I think happened).  I do remember, however, I couldn't stop crying...not snot like, can't catch your b-b-reath tears. More like chew on your cheek, silent sorrow. One by one, the tears fell.  I couldn't stop them.  By mid-day, it was too much.  I made up some excuse, went home, and wept.

John Denver was like family to me....which is odd for a man I've never met.  Growing up, I spent hours laughing/crying/dreaming, as I listened and sang along to Country Roads, Grandma's Feather Bed, Annie's Song, and Sunshine on My Shoulders. My love of music, Muppets, and fiddles began with him...as did much of my desire to change the world, end poverty, and clean up my community. 

The first time I ever heard somebody talk about the issue of hunger, it came from John Denver.  He also gave me a profound appreciation for my Country Girl roots...which is ironic considering where I am writing from today.

As I sit in the spare bedroom of my parent's house, it's only fitting that John Denver should come on the tv--singing on a PBS special. For two hours, I forgo sleep, worry, and canasta, just to be with him.  A half hour later, I'm still here...hoping, thinking, and smiling.

I can't really express what it means...to hear his words, see his face, and love his music.  Rather than try, I'll just say this...                                              

"If I had a day that I could give you
I'd give to you a day just like today
If I had a song that I could sing for you
I'd sing a song to make you feel this way."
--Sunshine on My Shoulders, John Denver.

I love you.  Hope you are happy.

Altered Today: Memories, Appreciation, New Place I want to Visit

Day 187: Divided

Today, my heart was in three places: 1) With those I love, far away, as they visit their first Lyme Literate Medical Doctor. 2) With my friend, nearby, as she struggles with her babies questionable test results. And 3) With myself, as I underwent a third week of painful IV therapy (something I'm really having a tough time with).

Life isn't supposed to be like this...full of painful choices.  To test...not to test. To push...not to push.  To poke...to cut...to wait...to fight.  For some reason, it reminds me of that 80's song by the Talking Heads: Once in a Lifetime.

"And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right?...Am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
MY GOD!...WHAT HAVE I DONE?"


Altered Today: Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was..

Day 178: Power and Perspective with Chronic Illness

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about choices:
-How I choose to respond to illness
-How I choose to approach obstacles
-What I choose to make of my life now that so much of it seems out of my control

Sometimes, just remembering I have a choice seems impossible (It's easier to get swept up in fear, sadness, or pain).  Other times, I confuse having a choice with liking the options or being positive (ie: If I choose to accept illness does that mean I agree with it? If I choose to cry today is that less valuable than choosing to smile?).

For example, one of the things I have been really been struggling with lately is friendships.  Before getting sick, I was a pretty busy person. I volunteered a lot, talked to people intermittently by phone or text, ran a business, saw friends once a month or every few months, and relished LOW MAINTENANCE relationships (ie: people who understood that I loved them even if we didn't speak or I forgot their birthday).

NOW, 10 months later, things are different. I am home almost 24 hours a day. I don't volunteer. I don't work. I feel like crap. I crave meaningful interaction.  And when people don't call, don't follow my blog, don't comment on Facebook, or don't check in on me, I immediately jump to one conclusion:  they don't care.

Isn't it Ironic ???

Funny thing is... I am the one who changed.  My friends are just sticking to the plan..."call if you need me."  Even funnier, somewhere along the way, I completely forgot I have a choice (actually several).

Choice #1 -- I can pretend people don't love me, they never loved me, and I no longer matter (very disempowering).

Choice #2 -- I can believe people are giving me space. They are going through something themselves. It's hard for them to see me like this. They don't get it.  They're busy.  They are confronted by their own mortality.

Choice #3 -- I can get off my butt, give people a call, or invite them over (although if they don't call back or come that will probably lead me to option 1, 2, or 5).

Choice #4 -- I can be grateful for the time we spent together, accept that we are in different phases of life, and move on.

Choice #5 -- I can be angry -- really angry.

For now, I am not sure it matters what option I choose. But remembering I have options?  Now that makes a difference. 

Altered Today: Power, Perspective, and Peace of Mind