Happy Mothers' Day! (UK Version)

I quickly popped open Facebook this morning before I got in the shower and there was all these "Happy Mothers' Day" posts. In my sleep~deprived mind, it doesn't hit that it's only March and we celebrate in May.

After my shower, I call my mother to wish her a Happy Mothers' Day. She was really wondering if there was something she didn't know because my brother had just called her to do the same thing. She was laughing when I told her it was in the U.K. where it's celebrated today. She was going to call my brother later on to let him in on the joke.

That got me thinking. Why can't we celebrate the love of the ones who mean the most to us while we have the chance? We aren't guaranteed another breath in this horrid veil of tears we call "life." Athena knows I've been slapped upside the head with that enough to last several turns of the wheel. I've lost more of the ones who I've loved the most than I can even bare to think about. The snap of a finger and it could be more.

I'm having surgery again next week. It's supposed to be a simple same~day procedure on my knee, but it was scheduled several months ago and since then, I've had a few nasty spills and one put me to the floor because my knee would no longer support my weight. I'm not afraid to leave hell. I know where I'm going. I see it so clearly in my mind, it seems like I can just take a step and be there. The ones I love are waiting for me. My place in the Summerlands is assured. My little cottage in the woods, covered in vines and filled to the top with all my furry friends are waiting at the Rainbow Bridge for me to come get them.

I had a near~death experience once. I don't tell too many people about it because people don't know how  to take it. Some will believe, some will say it was my oxygen~deprived mind just projecting images from the past, but I know the truth. I was in ICU after a massive surgery. I'm very claustrophobic and kept taking the oxygen mask off that was keeping me breathing and pushing the pain-pump as often as possible. I can hear the skeptics from here, but give me my moment. My mother was at my bedside, she rarely left me. I knew she was there on my right side, but I felt a presence on the left and looked over. There was my precious, beloved Adonis. My faithful companion in life and now it seemed he was keeping the faith and was ready to lead me away from all the pain and torture. He looked the same as this last photo of him, right before I betrayed him in the worst way.

I turned to him and tore off the my face and turned to him and just starting talking. I was begging him to forgive me. I had to make a horrible decision earlier that year and had to let him go to the Bridge. I still feel like it was the worst betrayal in the world. He trusted me completely. He was looking in my eyes when he took his last breath. It was my essence he breathed in, my eyes he saw, my hands holding him and stroking his silky head. It was my voice, telling him how much I loved him and hoped he could forgive me. Then I went into our daily routine. I trained him in German and that's what I spoke to him at the end. "Ich leibe dich, meine leibchen."  I begged him not to leave me and to stay or take me with him. I was so sorry, I wish it didn't happen. He just looked at me with his beautiful eyes and put his head on my bed and just waited. I heard my mother crying. She knew I wasn't talking to her and there was no one else in the room that she could see. She doesn't understand any German. She knew who I was seeing and knew I was failing. All of that was in the back of my mind, but the pain was so great, I just wanted it all to stop.

I've been in constant pain for over 20 years, after a botched spinal nerve block, during an emergency C-Section. Since then, the pain in my head rarely goes away. I have spent so many days in the hospital, hooked up to pain pumps, just to keep my head from exploding. Then the daily medicine and emergency rescue shots. I can't give myself shots, so my husband will give them if he's here. If he's not around, my son has to come and give the shots. He's only 20. He had to learn how to give his mother injections when he was only 10 years old. Far too young for such a huge responsibility. He's not like other kids his age and never has been. He has a genius IQ, but we don't have the "right" name, so they thought he needed Special Education and was put in with the kids with lower IQs. He hated going to school and begged me to take him out and homeschool him because his sister was homeschooled. I went to the school and they had me sign a paper that it was against "Professional" advice that I removed him from special ed and I knew the risks. The funny part, if it was so sad and pathetic is, the next week, he was given an IQ test and immediately put in the Gifted Program. He wasn't given an apology and neither was I. The local school has been a total nightmare for us. I was never so happy as seeing my son get his diploma and know he never had to deal with those "professionals" again. When he was asked to be a pallbearer at his cousin's funeral, I asked him if he could handle that and he didn't have to. He was only 10 years younger than the man he would carry on his last trip. He had held my hand when his cousin was taken off life support, so I knew his strength, but even a diamond can break under pressure. He looked at me and said, "If I don't do it, who will?" Two days later, he helped carry Bobby to his final rest. That was our Thanksgiving last year.

I suppose for those who have made it this far and thinking I'm a bit nuts by now. Probably a little, but in 2015, who isn't?  I'll wrap it up with this: Celebrate each moment, live life to its fullest and never forget to tell the people you love just that. Don't wait til they are gone. Bring flowers for no reason other than you love them. Call, text, email, send smoke signals, whatever you have to do to let those you love the most know it and celebrate every day. That's what this whole rambling post is about. Just remember to say I love you, in any language, just say it. Standing at the bedside of an empty, broken shell is too late.

More health woes

As everyone who regularly reads here or knows me personally knows I'm quite ill & need a large variety of medicines every month just to keep me alive.

Our former pharmacy ~ Rite~Aide ~ made life miserable because they rarely had my medicine, even though I got the same things every month. This month, I dropped off the prescriptions a day early to give plenty of time to have them ready. My son stopped on his way to college because I was in too much pain to stand up, let alone drive there. He was given one medicine & one paper script back that had find a new pharmacy on it & he wasn't told when or if the other 5 would be available. What? I'm out of meds, they knew at least one day early, but didn't care enough to call. My doctor's office was dumb~founded how they treat me. They called around & found a new pharmacy who agreed to take over my large order.

Randy & I went down to the new pharmacy with a large bag filled with all my meds & the pharmacist spent at least a half hour going over what I need & assured me there would never be a problem. I guess Rite Aid is just too busy to need or care about its long~term customers. <

One of the worst things Rite Aid did to me is made me the butt of jokes. I was being treated at the Cleveland Clinic & they needed to call there for a refill. The technician had several of my other scripts in a basket & my name was clearly visible. The store was packed. She loudly said, "We'll need to get approval from the Secret Service next." That's when she saw me there. No apology, no nothing. I complained to the pharmacist & he didn't understand why I was upset.

Yesterday when I told them we are changing pharmacies & asked for the district manager's phone number. The same pharmacist refused to do that.

I ask you, my friends, was I out of line in any of this nightmare? I'm just able to walk now, but need a pain shot soon before bed. Why would any business in today's economy throw away good customers? Has anyone else had trouble with Rite Aid? I would never recommend that place to anyone. =~{

Back to real work - FINALLY!!!

I finally got to write a real hard-news article for the newspaper I freelance for the other day. I felt alive for the first time in an unreal time. Since I got so sick and had to give up on being a full-time staff reporter and went back to freelancing, I try to keep my work to firemen saving kittens from trees and lots of other fuzzy stories. I've written hard stories, sure, murder trials and many other legal stories, but this one beat the local paper. They were too afraid to even bother to write about it. I happened to walk in and hear one of the "top ladies" thanking him for not writing about it. PUKE! I Know, I Know, Gretchen, keep your mouth shut. Don't do it!!! Well, as we all know, those words don't mean a whole lot to me. I had to tell her, "When you hide things, then it just makes it look like you have done worse!" She glared at me and sat down. Refused to speak to me the rest of the meeting. Ah well, her loss. We've never been fans of each other. She's pushed me too far once before and her pet project no longer gets ANY coverage in my paper. :) Sad how these things happen! When her events are going on, I'm forced to be at other events and there is only one me. The story was our local sheriff walked off the job and it was being kept under the rug. The local paper refused to write about it, the other large paper wrote a tiny bit, but I got a HUGE front page story on it. Made my day! I actually cried when I saw my By line! Writing that story made me remember why I became a write to begin with. I felt good telling the truth and letting people know what was really happening. I had one lady comment on my article (she had no idea I was a reporter, let alone the one who wrote it) and was saying she was going to subscribe to this paper because you never hear the real news in the local rag. I almost died laughing!!! Thank you to the two brave souls who gave me the tip and to the paper who believed that I could still write hard news. It means the world to me that I'm still a real reporter!! :)

More health fun

Life is really hard these days. I guess they are most days, but when it gets to a point where standing up isn't possible, I suppose that "hard" can be preceded by a "really." It's the way things are, I suppose.

I was sent to yet another pain clinic where yet another doctor poured over my mountainous records and decided to try an occipital nerve block. That means, he jabbed a needle into the bottom of my skull on the right side. Always fun. Within two minutes, I was on the exam table, writhing in pain. Probably not a sign that it's going to work. The nurse takes off the vital signs machine because it's beeping really loud and constantly. Probably because I'm hyperventilating. I'm told to go home and keep track of how much better I feel following week. Yeah, right.

We're 40 hours from home, but I'm out cold within second of getting into the truck and only wake up when we get home. Long enough to stumble in and drop into bed. Next thing I know, it's Friday afternoon and Randy has had to give me pain shots to keep me from yet another hospital stay. It's about 30 hours after the injection before I'm even semi-normal. Of course, I don't know that I'm ever normal.

The real fun begins the next day, when my right eye starts to go numb. Then it's my temple, ear and nose. By the time I get back to the pain clinic, my cheek is numb. He says that isn't possible for the cheek to be related to the injection, that part of the brain's functions. Wonderful! Can it get any better? Have I had any recent scans? Yes, I have been scanned, x-rayed and more enough so that I probably glow in the dark by now.  He wants me to see a neurologist ASAP. Anyone who knows anything about neurologist knows ASAP means maybe 4 months, 3 if it's a real emergency.

The nurse calls me the next day and I have an appointment a week and a half later. That is fast. Never heard of such a thing, but at this point, I'll go with it. As anyone who knows me knows by now, I've tried some interesting things over the past 20+ years. Lets see, 4 or was it 5 neurologists all over this State and out to the Cleveland Clinic. At least a dozen different regular doctors, 5 pain clinics, a faith healer, Reiki healing, massage therapy, physical therapy, a past life regression punctuated by a goat hoof rattle -- Don't ask, it's better not to ask. I'm getting pretty tired of all of it. Nobody can help me. Most give up quickly, some take a little longer, but they all end up punting me to another place. Making me someone else's responsibility relieves them of having to try and fix me anymore. I do have a really great PCP. He's doing the best he can. I'm just one of those cases that nobody has been able to figure out. I haven't received the full body transplant I've asked for more than once. Some day. I've asked for a Native American medicine man and a friend is working on that. Maybe a voodoo priestess? I've always wanted to get to New Orleans..... 

Anywho, here I sit, watching more mindless TV, praying, demanding, bargaining, etc.. with whoever is listening at this moment in time to help stop it or even make it a bit less painful. Again, no such luck.

I'm open to all sorts of suggestions, give it a try and let me know your thoughts. I need help ~ desperately.