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Thankful, Day 8 (and hard times.)

Posted Nov 08 2012 11:46pm
Not sure if this picture makes sense with what I'm thankful for... it's Stella, fresh out of her morning bath... it reminds me of those sweet, full of hope kind of days. 

This day almost got away from me.  I somehow got sucked into watching Jimmy Fallon reruns on youtube.  Shame, shame on me.  I have oodles of things to do. 

I've pulled myself away from Jimmy (for now)... Rob Pattinson is on tonight and you best be knowin' I'm watching that. 



I wanted to write quickly about this crazy, wild dreaming problem I have.  

 Ryan is much the same when it comes to dreaming;  we've always been in sync like that.  Even in high school, we'd sit there and plan our imaginary families.  2 girls, 2 boys... names like Evangelina and James ... our house on "Perfect Ave."  A convertible for date nights, a huge SUV for Saturday soccer mornings and countless cruises, vacations, giving our kids' the invaluable gift of memories.

I can't decide if I want to take that picture that we painted with our naivety and  laugh maniacally or tear it to shreds. 

I think, if it were a tangible picture sitting in front of me, I'd choose the option to rip it into pieces, but not before scribbling in red marker something like, "THIS ISN'T LIFE!"  Well, at least it isn't our life.

In our life, we have a Maeve, a Henry and an Estella.  We rumble around in a black mini van that breaks down on a monthly basis.  We live in an apartment with a busted dishwasher.  Saturday morning mingling with the "Jones's" at soccer tourney's has been swapped with Ryan putting in overtime. 

And I'm sick.  Sick with what?  I'm not sure.  But I most definitely didn't paint this anywhere in my picture, I'm positive of that.

My blood counts are off.  I'm severely anemic.  My kidneys aren't doing what they should.  I'm in chronic pain and just this morning it was confirmed I have two bleeding ulcers in my stomach.  I go in early tomorrow for a fasting blood draw and some other lab work.  Next Friday, I check back into the hospital for a day of scans, ultrasounds and some kind of nuclear testing. 

And anxiety is loving this.  It's swooped in and stirred the pot.  And here I sit, imagining the most horrific of outcomes when really it could be something so simple.  But that's not the way anxiety plays. 

Tonight I sat another dinner out.  My stomach, completely unable to take in food.  (remember all the vomiting from the medication that sent me to the hospital 2 weeks ago?  Yeah, apparently ulcers are to blame for that).  I listen to my family laugh over the meal I made and can't help but let the anger and anxiety well up inside me.  By the time the kids go to bed I'm annoyed with myself, with Ryan and his boundless energy, and ease with the kids.  I'm annoyed with this stupid apartment/condo thing and my dog.  I can't stand my freaking dog. 

As midnight closes in, and my house becomes silent with sleeping babies (and a husband), I sit by candlelight, typing furiously with the hope of a new and better day ringing in my head. 

Now as for that picture... screw "Evangilina" and "James." (BTW I like those names... just not the stigma I had attached to them in high school).  I've got the most amazing Maeve, Henry and Stella ever and couldn't imagine for a second loving anyone but those sweet souls.  And the house/apartment situation?  I can deal with that too.  Annoying, but do-able.  Our transportation deal, while embarassing, it's also something that I can handle. 

What I cannot handle, for one more day (it seems) is this kidney issue.  My health.  This was something so far off from the picture we had painted.  I was never meant to sit out dinners or be in hospitals.  Or waking up at 6 AM for fasting blood draws and 24 hour urine catches.  I was talking with my dad on the phone tonight, telling him the latest, (the ulcers) and he said something like, "This is insane.  You're not going to be able to function at some point.  Meaning, you're going to go crazy with this." 

Agreed dad,  agreed.

So.  Friends.  I'd so appreciate prayers.  I want to live.  And I'm not being dramatic; saying I'm dying or whatever. (dear GOD, pray that is not the case)  I want to LIVE.   I want to live this life that I've been given.  I want to scoop my kids up without having pain in my kidneys.  I want to chase them around the park without being winded.   I want to sit down and eat dinner, without the fear of vomiting after.  I want to fall asleep without taking a percocet.  I want to experience this life, alongside Ryan and my kids in the most vibrant of colors. 

Thankful Day 8;  New days.  Hope.  Fresh starts.  I am so thankful for that. 

I'll be in a better mood tomorrow... it was just a rough day at the docs.  Thanks for listening to my vent.

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