Dear Transvaginal Ultrasound Giver,
Just a thought...
Transducer Insertion + Screaming/Cussing + Multiple People Begging You To Stop Raping Them could mean:
a) It's time to reevaluate your career choice
b) You need to be gentler
c) You're a Sadist
(Note: Ramming harder is not a good option)
PLEASE, for the sake of unsuspecting vaginas everywhere, work that $h@t out!
Sincerely,
The Future President for Pain Free Transvaginal Futures
(aka: Wakeen Funay Fromewe)
Altered Today: Womanhood
Right now, I'm having an argument in my head: a fight between the "sick" me and "healthy" me. Healthy me saw a baby today...a delicious, Asian, smiling baby.
"You're going to get better," healthy me said. "You're going to get better by December 31st and, come January, you're going to make one of those."
Sick me had other thoughts. "Don't get your hopes up," she reminded. "Remember last October? Back then, you SWORE you'd be well by January. You can see how that turned out. Besides, Lyme Mommies don't make healthy babies."
So, here I sit...arguing for what's possible AND jaded by reality.
It's an odd dilemma. "Didn't I used to train people to see past their circumstances and create their futures?" I think. "What would I have told me?" I wonder.
My mind rattles off a list of coaching distinctions....looking for a place to come from that could possibly make a difference.
Being a contribution? Nope.
Being unstoppable? Definitely not.
Operating from an empowering context? Maybe.
Creating Teamwork? Possibly.
Bringing fun, play, and ease to the situation? Couldn't hurt, but not inspiring.
Being Authentic? Important.
Being expressed? Necessary.
Coming from nothing? Warmer.
Being with what's so? Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
That's the one. Being with what's so. Nothing added. Nothing taken away. Just being with what is. Gently, I try to uncollapse the truth in my life with the story I am telling myself about it.
WHAT’S TRUE???
- I’m 40
-I’ve been sick for a year
-I was trying to get pregnant when it happened
-I've been told I have Lyme Disease
-I used to have good days and bad
-Now, I mostly feel blah
-I haven’t worked since last October
-My body is unreliable
-I don’t know when I’ll be better
WHAT I’M MAKING IT MEAN:
-I can’t have a family
-I’m a failure as a wife
-I’ll never be healthy
-I have to fix this
-Time’s running out
-The best days of my life are behind me
-I'll never be happy
It's interesting, uncovering the things I'm thinking deep down. There's nothing to do with this right now...just breathe and be.
Altered Today: Perspective
It's 1:35. I'm at Labcorp...waiting to have blood drawn...tears streaming down my face. I'm not afraid of needles. I'm crying from frustration. Just before I left the house, I received ANOTHER denial from my Insurance Company refusing to pay for my last round of testing. What's THIS trip going to cost me?
To pass the time, I pick up my notebook. It's always in my purse....just haven't used it in a while. Slowly, I turn to a blank page...and scribble a few thoughts.
So tired of fighting
to be well
to be heard
to get what I need
It's easy to see how people become jaded in these circumstances.
Curiously, I flip to the front of the book. To my surprise, I find a note I wrote to myself last year....dated August 7, 2010. I knew I was sick at the time, but didn't know with what. I was having menstrual issues, thinking I miscarried, having lots of pain, gaining weight for no reason, losing my ability to work/function...doctors weren't listening.
I waited 'til 40 to try and have a baby. I wanted to be ready. I wanted to be healthy. Looking back now, I believe it was intuition. I knew SOMETHING was going on. I just couldn't put a finger on it.
Anyway, below were my thoughts. Today, for a minute, they brought me peace. Hope they can do the same for you.
August 7, 2010
Dear Kathy,
I know you are worried about a lot right now.
You worry about losing your Mom & Dad, taking care of your sister, making Angel happy, and getting well. You worry about everyone and everything. That's your heart, full of worry.
I know, right now, it seems like something's HORRIBLY wrong with your health, but the truth is you don't know what's happening. Everything you are making up is a story.
You have lived through a lot of crazy stuff in your life: you've had friends you love die, seen people you trust lie, and, many times, nearly lost it all. Never forget, no matter what occurred, you were ALWAYS able to handle it, make something happen, and turn things around.
YOU finished college. YOU started a business. YOU created a relationship with Angel. YOU published a Rewards book. AND, if YOU choose to "make a family," you will do that too. It may not happen the way you think it will, in the time you expect, or how it should, but it WILL happen.Leave the door open to be surprised, to create wonder, and dream dreams bigger than your heart can imagine. Don't let your disappointments put your light out or lessen your shine. You are worthy and love surrounds you always.
I love you...
Altered Today: Blood levels, What I share...
You can always tell when I get antsy about blogging. It usually happens when a) I can't stand to hear myself complain anymore b) I don't feel well enough to form a complete thought c) I have big things I COULD talk about, but I really don't want to or d) I am feeling a little stir crazy.
When it does, I predictably write about food/cooking; partly because it's easy, partly because it interests me, and partly because making things allows me to feel semi-normal again. When I was little, baking was always my escape to avoid what was ailing me. While my sister was hanging outside with the horses, I could usually be found in the kitchen baking sugar cookies or whipping up something in my Easy Bake Oven.
To this day, my heart jumps when I see those little, itty-bitty boxes of mixes (now packets...a horrible tragedy). I remember standing in the aisle at K-Mart, pulling on my mom's shirt, begging her to buy me some. Once or twice, she caved. Mostly, she'd buy Duncan Hines big boxes.
"Once it's in the pan, you'll never know the difference," she'd say.
Technically, she was right. Still, a 9-year old doesn't care about logic; the heart wants what the heart wants.
Impatiently, I would stare through the light-bulb-lit window waiting for the edges to crisp. I liked using that plastic/orange tool to move the pan around, and never waited for anything to cool before frosting (powdered sugar and a little milk).
More than cooking, I loved to decorate and deliver. A few sprinkles there...a fancy plate here. If I loved you, I would certainly bring you a tiny cake with a huge smile on my face. "I made this for you," I would say...usually to my Mom. I'm not sure if she liked it, but, if she didn't, you wouldn't know (she was very generous with cooking praise).
Looking back now, for some reason, I am getting very emotional. Perhaps for the little girl I used to be or for the daughter I may never have. But, now that it's out there, I can't stop crying. It would have been so much easier to talk about my high-protein, almond/egg breakfast concoction (the original plan for today). Still, what can I say, sometimes posts write themselves.
The breakfast you will never hear about.
Altered Today: Sharing more than I meant to, lamenting about motherhood, thinking I was a model on the front of the Easy Bake Oven box. Seriously...I'm posting pictures. It looks just like me.