Happy Mothers Day

To those who have mothered me when I needed it.  To those who have stepped in when my Mom couldn't be there.  To those who have inspired me to be the Mom that I am. I say thank you for loving me and for guiding me.

To My Mom who didn't come along until I was 17 (I was the easiest labor ever).  Thank you for loving me when it would have been just as easy not to.

I am incredibly fortunate to remember the instant I knew I was loved.  Most of us grow up not remembering that because we were babies, I remember it clearly.  I have learned from my Mom that mothering isn't just something that happens - it is a choice and I am so thankful she chose me.  I could go one forever about how great she is but I have learned that sometimes more is less.  Besides, love cannot be bottled and labeled - it is the lifeforce that flows through us all and makes life worth living.

When to get up and when to lie down

After this last fall, my doctor asked that I take a week off and rest.  Due to the fact that I could barely move, it was easy to comply on Saturday and Sunday.  By Monday I was itching to get out of bed and by the end of Tuesday I had plans for meetings on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.  I cannot stay in bed for another day.  Puttering for 10 minutes in the kitchen doesn't count nor does doing paperwork (email and letters) for fundraising and other commitments from bed.  Being productive means (to me) 'up and about'.  I need to be out of bed.

I think that this is a common trap that many who suffer from chronic illnesses fall into: we are sick or have an injury that sets us back, we get stuck in bed, we get depressed, we can't get out of bed and the cycle gets stuck.  For me, the act of getting out of bed and out of the house breaks the cycle.  I still have crushing pain and emotional wreckage days but being up breaks the cycle of depression and that desire to stay in bed forever because everything hurts and every one's life is going on but mine and waaah waaah pity me.  I don't have mercy for pity partiers and am down right brutal on myself if it is my own pity party.

Thus, the question becomes; when do we listen to our doctors and when do we listen to our own body wisdom?  It is important to break that cycle of pain - depression - stuck in bed - pain - depression etc.  As we have established that getting up and about is a great way to do that, I decided to listen to myself (notice I didn't say my body wisdom) and on Wednesday proceeded to do 5 loads of laundry (which meant 5 trips up and down the stairs) as well as clean the kitchen, practice flute and piano, and drive myself to a doctor appointment.  This was a bad idea.

So I am now listening to my body wisdom which says that while it may be depressing to be stuck in bed, your body needs rest so watch or read something funny and get over it.  Today will be spent at physical therapy - for which I am going to ask for a ride - and resting.  While I don't relish the thought of being "stuck" in bed, I suppose there are worse things.

The moral of the story is that we need to listen to what our bodies are telling us whether we like it or not.  Be good to yourselves because no one else can do that for you.

Tumble

Took a tumble down the stairs last Thursday and banged up my body as well as slammed my head into the ceramic tile floor.  Needless to say, what a day.  Had a nice ambulance ride to the hospital where they assured me (after ct scans and numerous x-rays) that everything was fine.  However, they kept me over night to be on the safe side.
I am okay but am really hurting and am now using a walker to get around for a few days.  I am in pain but am thankful that no serious damage was done.

I will be back with humor, sarcasm, and plenty of colorful commentary in a few days.

Laughter IS the Best Medicine

During the last few weeks, I frequently asked my friend Katie to tell me jokes.  She is the queen of bad jokes - and good ones.  For instance, "A white horse fell in a mud puddle."  While for some, that would not constitute as  high humor, it was just what I needed.  She never tired of being put on the spot as I would often just demand "tell me a joke".

I usually lie in bed thinking about the day and analyzing what coping skills worked and what didn't.  The one that never fails is humor and sarcasm.  I am an incredibly sarcastic person by nature and thankfully, all my friends are too.  They get me - gallows humor, political, satire, sarcasm - all of it.  I think that Tina Fey and I would be bff's if she would just return my phone calls.  Amy Poehler and Jim Gaffigan would also be great friends of mine....if they would just return the phone calls.  I haven't hit stalker status yet but if I don't get some response soon, I may have to resort to mass mailings.

I cannot imagine going through everything I do without a sense of humor.  My friend's jokes and stories are always enough to break up the thoughts running through my head or give me a diversion to the physical pain and allow me to put everything on the back burner for a few hours until I can gather strength to handle it again.  I wish that I could just pop out with sarcastic observations in my blog and have you all laughing out loud and spraying your screens with whatever liquid you are ingesting but I am more of an "observational sarcasm" kind of gal.  My children are already honing their sarcastic skills which will either make the teenage years super fun or will turn them into a massive shamble.

While reading jokes is never as good as hearing them (in my opinion) I am going to share my favorite joke that Katie told me from our friend Jim:

An Irish lad comes to America and after going through customs, looks for an Irish bar.  He goes in, sits at the bar and orders 3 guinness beers at once.  He lines them up and drinks them one at a time.  The bartender watches this curiously but doesn't comment.  The next week, the Irish lad is back and orders 3 beers at once. He lines them up and drinks them one at a time.  Again, the bartender watches but doesn't comment.  This goes on for weeks and finally the bartender asks the lad why he orders 3 beers at once.  The lad replies, "When I left Ireland I left behind two brothers.  Every week we would get together and have a beer.  I am continuing the tradition here in their honor."  So, the bartender and the lad fall into this ritual easily.  One day, the lad says "two beers please".  The bartender is saddened thinking that one of the lad's brothers has died.  He decides to offer his condolences. "I am so sorry about your brother."  "My brother!  What do you mean?" "Well, you ordered two beers so I assumed that something had happened to one of your brothers."  "No, I gave up drinking for Lent."

May you find the distraction you need to face your day.  For me, Phil Hartman will always be one of my favorite distractions.  May you enjoy as well.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/6819/newsradio-smoking#s-p1-n1-sa-i0

Trenches

When you are in the emotional or physical trenches, life switches into survival mode.  Dusting doesn't get done.  Cooking is a necessity that occurs only because you have children.  Emails don't get returned promptly - if at all - and work/volunteering falls to the wayside.  Every molecule of your body spends it's energy on surviving the current minute.  After that minute passes, it does a quick re-evaluation to decide if the next minute is worth living.

I switched into survival mode on March 30th and am just now slowly returning to "normal".  It was not pretty for the last while.  There were many kleenex involved, words that would make a sailor blush, lots of faking in front of my kids to keep their life generally normal, heart palpitations, and painful memories and emotions that I didn't think I could survive.  My friends jumped in and kept me alive. They fed me (literally and spiritually), they gave me shelter, and they never tired of reminding me that I needed to keep going.  They went without sleep, took phone calls at all hours, and kept pushing me when I was resisting.

Survival mode is not pretty.  My every emotion was raw...as if every nerve ending was just hanging outside of my body and constantly getting bumped sending me into never-ending tailspins of emotional and physical pain.  Clinically, I was dealing with post traumatic stress disorder however I think of it as hell.  I did all the things one is supposed to do upon an emotional crash - saw my therapist (numerous times), saw my doctor (numerous times), and trusted friends with my deepest emotions but yet all those things didn't fix "it".  The problem was bigger than myself, my friends, and my team of professionals.  Hurts that occur as children are permanent.  They can scab over, they might even scar but there are moments in our life when those hurts become larger than life.  The hurt takes over and crushes us at our deepest level.

In these moments, I believe that all one can do is use professional resources, grab onto friends, and buckle in because it is going to be a bumpy ride.  Thankfully, I survived the last few weeks and my kids weren't scarred in the process.  In general, they were sheltered other than knowing that I was going through some "tough stuff" and they never seemed worried as they knew I was with friends who they trusted.

If I could offer advice to those who have suffered severe childhood abuse and trauma it would be; find a qualified therapist - someone who specializes in childhood trauma and post traumatic stress disorder, share what is going on with your doctor as emotional pain often manifests itself as physical pain, and to share your life story with a few very trusted friends.  Don't give up.  Call someone at 2 a.m. if you need to.  While you will feel guilty for waking a friend, they would rather you wake them then make a permanent bad choice.  Go to public places even though you just want to stay in bed under the covers.  Getting up, showering, and getting out of the house changes the brain chemistry.  (There are studies on this but at the moment, I am too lazy to look them up but if you are interested, email me.)

It is critical that we have safe spaces to deal with the issues.  Whether that be a friends home, the hospital or public places these all make you less likely to make bad decisions i.e. you probably won't get smashing drunk at the local coffeehouse nor will you choose to overdose while having dinner at a great deli.  Trust me, I have been there and I get it.

I wrote about Redemption last week and am looking forward to "redeeming" myself to my family, my friends, and to myself.  I don't believe I did anything wrong to bring about my crash and am proud that I survived (there were some critical moments).  When, as adults, we are crushed by childhood trauma and it's memories we can't control our emotions very well - if at all.  However, when the crisis abates, we can thank those who held our hands, stayed by our side, and didn't give up when we wanted to.  In that, we redeem ourselves, take back control, and begin to live again.

Redemption

The chance to do something differently than we would have before.  This is not the Oxford or Webster dictionary definition but mine.  A definition that, for me, was formed and made true and revealed over the last few weeks.

We all make ruts in our lives and live within them.  There are times we try to get out but usually it is not long before we are back in the same habits and rituals: 4 cups of coffee to start the day when we said we would cut back to one, scanning the front page of the newspaper though we keep saying we are going to read the whole thing (minus the classifieds), purchasing a nice eco-friendly lunch box and then never finding time to make lunch, deciding that the kids need to broaden their vegetable palates and then realizing we just don't have the energy to argue about Brussels sprouts.

For me, redemption is an active choice - a verb if you will - and verbs take energy.  At a time when we are all faced with extreme financial, ecological, emotional and sometimes physical stress, we don't have time to bring new verbs into our lives, we don't have time for redemption.  However, we expect it out of others: the partner who promises to make more time for the relationship, the boss who stated that they would implement changes we offered, the friend who agreed to exercise with us.  Yet, all these people let us down and we are silently angry, disappointed, hurt and are craving their redemption.  Desiring, hoping desperately that they will redeem themselves to us.

What has become crystal clear to me during my emotional journey of late is that redemption must come from within before it can be seen in anyone else.  It is up to me to redeem myself daily.  To chose to make the changes however painful they may be.

Physically, it is excruciating to get up every morning, shower, and get going.  Emotionally, it is extremely challenging to refocus my mind and chose to focus on this moment and tomorrow, not allowing my past memories to dictate my days.

The thought of redemption can conjure up images of one who has done wrong and needs to redeem themselves to be worthy of love, affection, respect - even worth.  However, I am looking at redemption as a chance to break old habits, get out of my personal ruts and allow my whole spirit to shine forth and guide me - versus my ruts to drag me along.

Abraham Verghese said in his book Cutting for Stone "Life, too, is like that.  You live it forward, but understand it backward.  It is only when you stop and look to the rear that you see the corpse caught under your wheel."

This resonated loudly for me when I read it today.  Without the benefit of introspection and retrospection there would be no need for redemption and without redemption there would be no growth, no forward movement, no chances to make a difference - to do it again better.  Redemption is ultimately the flow of life.  In every apology,  in every decision that we make; the alcoholic that chooses not to take that drink, the parent that doesn't yell at their child but patiently explains for the 50th time the situation at hand, the doctor that instead of grabbing the prescription pad and writing away the problem listens and offers a tender ear.
Each moment that we "redeem" ourselves we grow to love ourselves a little more - to like ourselves a little more, to appreciate the great and complicated human, to realize that there is always hope if we are all working toward redemption.  It's in the cars we choose to drive, in the food we choose to purchase from a local farmer, in the way we treat people who are different from ourselves, in the simple acts of offering a please and thank you.

Try living Redemption as a verb for a day.  I would be surprised if you didn't sleep a little better at the end of the day.

Top 10 Reasons to Love a Chiarian

10.  You appreciate any food that wasn't cooked at the hospital.
9.  You get to meet lots of doctors.
8.  Showing off the scar is a super cool party trick.
7.  Tinnitus means that the rock music gets played loudly.
6.  Shopping w/ a Chiarian is great because you get to park in the handicapped spot.
5.  Memory issues play to the partners/kids favor.  You don't remember me telling you I was going to start dating other women?  Mom, don't you remember me telling you I ate an entire bag of oreos?
4.  The tremors make for hilarious games of "Operation"
3.  They predict the weather more accurately than the meteorologists.
2.  They fall over everything.
1.  Their brain is HUGE. (or as Tim likes to say, "Their brain could come flying out of the back of their head at any moment!")