the beginning of yet another academic year. And, as I listen to current and new students been advised, I wish I were one of them. The desire is so intense that I have been wearing earplugs so I don't have to listen or at least have something to block out part of the conversation I wish were mine. I hope to take a course this semester, perhaps audit at least. Maybe that will quench this thirst I have. The desire to do more, to be more.
Showing posts with label mental floss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental floss. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
Processing a tragedy
I have started this sentence over and over again, not sure where to start. I know that I feel like writing and getting this out. I don't know what I want others to read or know. More importantly, I don't want anyone else to be traumatized by what I have lived through.I think that's why I haven't talked about it much, at least until I met with professionals who have helped. Still, I feel I need to write even if no one reads it.
It's still very hard but the raw, open wound feeling is decreasing and I find I am able to breathe better with each passing day. Of course, therapy is multiple forms is helping, too. Two days ago the old adage, "Time heals all wounds" would have resulted in a pissed-off balk from me. I would have never believed I could move forward as much as I have, especially in this short a period of time. And while my heart and mind is healing, my spirit is also taking her turn. I need to write this so please, if you read this, be careful with your heart.
I flew home to Virginia last week to be with my family after my 29-year-old cousin, Phillip, lost his 9-month battle with leukemia. I had not cried as it was, and is, still very much surreal. I only really cried for my cousin, Michelle, his big sister, with whom I have always had a stronger bond. She and I are one week apart in age and were inseparable anytime we were together. My heart was breaking for her, my aunt and my uncle and those who were with him and love him. The painful parts: he was doing well then relapsed viciously and was gone far too quickly (as is anyone who hasn't lived their full life); Michelle had to read a passage at the memorial service and all I wanted to do was stand beside her to support her; his girlfriend, surrounded by supporters (and who is amazing), staying with him and being so supportive. I was able to make it through relatively well. I spent quality time with my great-Aunt Ginna (who is fabulous and for whom I am named). She told me things about my family I didn't know and I cannot wait to see her again. I left, got to the airport, got on the plane and that's when the single worst moment of my life occurred.
Mid-flight I turned to see a flight attendant in red, talking to a mom who stood up and then noticed she was holding a child, turned her upside-down and began hitting her on the back (the Heimlich maneuver for small children). It was then she began to exclaim "Oh my God!" From there it is a play-by-play of images and screams in my head. From the two calls over the intercom for a doctor, a nurse, "anyone with EMT training" to help, to the father (still in his Army uniform) screaming and crying for his baby, to the mother's screams, pleads and cries, to the quiet and back to the screaming. The worst was the image of the baby (just about 5 or 6 rows behind me) being carried off of the flight by first-responders then, later, a happenstance glance out the window and watching the mother run from the back of an ambulance and collapsing on the tarmac.
That baby, just 10 months old had grabbed a handful of peanuts off her mother's tray and choked to death.
I spent the night in a hotel, waiting for my next flight home. I slept, if you can call it that, with the television on, dreaming/reliving the events. I cried on the bus to the airport when I saw a plane taking off. I had 3 panic attacks on my own flight home: take off, landing, and (of course) when they gave out peanuts and other snacks. I collapsed on the floor of an airplane bathroom and sobbed--shoulder wrenching, heart-broken sobs--on that nasty floor. The parallels, albeit it small, were too hard for me. The baby's name, I believe, was Nylee (I don't know how she spelled it). My baby's name, Neala. She was 10 months old, that means she would be 1 in August. My baby was born in August.
I recognize now my passing through the beginning stages of grief, but I got stuck. I was scared/terrified/heart-broken. I bargained. I got angry (said "You took Phillip. You cannot have her.") and I felt guilty because I didn't help. I have CPR certification through my job but knew others were far more qualified than I and there were: a med student and 3 nurses. Still the screams and images have haunted me nearly every moment since. Granted it's only been a week. I haven't been able to fully recover. In some ways I don't want to; in others I must so that I can continue to function. I will admit I am proud of myself for recognizing how severely I have been affected and for asking for help so quickly. I am proud of myself for recognizing there are things outside of my control, for making myself work and not perseverate more than the flashbacks. I am proud of myself for talking to people I trust. I am proud of myself for writing this.
There are parts of my response that I also know are knee-jerk reactions. I wasn't able to be alone. I wasn't able to be in quiet situations. And the combination of the two? Terrifying. I know that I will not fly again without EMT/First responder training because I can never let myself feel that helpless again. Ever. I know that the more I talk about what happened, the more I gain power on my own mind and the more I allow myself to heal. I do not expect to get better immediately (which I normally would have, in the past). But I recognize my strength, as well, and that has helped. I will do more. I must. It is who I am. For now, I continue to process...
Hug your babies. Love them. Make sure they know how special they are.
It's still very hard but the raw, open wound feeling is decreasing and I find I am able to breathe better with each passing day. Of course, therapy is multiple forms is helping, too. Two days ago the old adage, "Time heals all wounds" would have resulted in a pissed-off balk from me. I would have never believed I could move forward as much as I have, especially in this short a period of time. And while my heart and mind is healing, my spirit is also taking her turn. I need to write this so please, if you read this, be careful with your heart.
I flew home to Virginia last week to be with my family after my 29-year-old cousin, Phillip, lost his 9-month battle with leukemia. I had not cried as it was, and is, still very much surreal. I only really cried for my cousin, Michelle, his big sister, with whom I have always had a stronger bond. She and I are one week apart in age and were inseparable anytime we were together. My heart was breaking for her, my aunt and my uncle and those who were with him and love him. The painful parts: he was doing well then relapsed viciously and was gone far too quickly (as is anyone who hasn't lived their full life); Michelle had to read a passage at the memorial service and all I wanted to do was stand beside her to support her; his girlfriend, surrounded by supporters (and who is amazing), staying with him and being so supportive. I was able to make it through relatively well. I spent quality time with my great-Aunt Ginna (who is fabulous and for whom I am named). She told me things about my family I didn't know and I cannot wait to see her again. I left, got to the airport, got on the plane and that's when the single worst moment of my life occurred.
Mid-flight I turned to see a flight attendant in red, talking to a mom who stood up and then noticed she was holding a child, turned her upside-down and began hitting her on the back (the Heimlich maneuver for small children). It was then she began to exclaim "Oh my God!" From there it is a play-by-play of images and screams in my head. From the two calls over the intercom for a doctor, a nurse, "anyone with EMT training" to help, to the father (still in his Army uniform) screaming and crying for his baby, to the mother's screams, pleads and cries, to the quiet and back to the screaming. The worst was the image of the baby (just about 5 or 6 rows behind me) being carried off of the flight by first-responders then, later, a happenstance glance out the window and watching the mother run from the back of an ambulance and collapsing on the tarmac.
That baby, just 10 months old had grabbed a handful of peanuts off her mother's tray and choked to death.
I spent the night in a hotel, waiting for my next flight home. I slept, if you can call it that, with the television on, dreaming/reliving the events. I cried on the bus to the airport when I saw a plane taking off. I had 3 panic attacks on my own flight home: take off, landing, and (of course) when they gave out peanuts and other snacks. I collapsed on the floor of an airplane bathroom and sobbed--shoulder wrenching, heart-broken sobs--on that nasty floor. The parallels, albeit it small, were too hard for me. The baby's name, I believe, was Nylee (I don't know how she spelled it). My baby's name, Neala. She was 10 months old, that means she would be 1 in August. My baby was born in August.
I recognize now my passing through the beginning stages of grief, but I got stuck. I was scared/terrified/heart-broken. I bargained. I got angry (said "You took Phillip. You cannot have her.") and I felt guilty because I didn't help. I have CPR certification through my job but knew others were far more qualified than I and there were: a med student and 3 nurses. Still the screams and images have haunted me nearly every moment since. Granted it's only been a week. I haven't been able to fully recover. In some ways I don't want to; in others I must so that I can continue to function. I will admit I am proud of myself for recognizing how severely I have been affected and for asking for help so quickly. I am proud of myself for recognizing there are things outside of my control, for making myself work and not perseverate more than the flashbacks. I am proud of myself for talking to people I trust. I am proud of myself for writing this.
There are parts of my response that I also know are knee-jerk reactions. I wasn't able to be alone. I wasn't able to be in quiet situations. And the combination of the two? Terrifying. I know that I will not fly again without EMT/First responder training because I can never let myself feel that helpless again. Ever. I know that the more I talk about what happened, the more I gain power on my own mind and the more I allow myself to heal. I do not expect to get better immediately (which I normally would have, in the past). But I recognize my strength, as well, and that has helped. I will do more. I must. It is who I am. For now, I continue to process...
Hug your babies. Love them. Make sure they know how special they are.
Blessings and healing
Friday, June 3, 2011
All kinds of catching up to do
This post will have to be an introduction to the many I still have coming out of my head. So let's see...In February I was crabby (gee, there's s shocker!). That comes and goes the like rising and falling of the tides. Sometimes I can handle the frustrating circumstances in which I find myself; other times, I think I put myself into those situations subconsciously because I either want to pout or need a good swift kick in the butt. Some parts of my world had become stagnant (and still are in some places). I think that's just par for the course. I've learned to deal, learned to manage and am learning to let go. Don't know why that last one is the hardest one to get, but surprise! It's now been a year since the GGs left us. I just found two unpublished posts about them. I'll still need to finish writing them and then proceed to the point of closure. Still not there in some ways. I do find it a bit ironic, that I return to those posts the week of my grandmother's estate sale. Tuesday I was a ball of tears in my office as I looked at the website that held her items, instantly linking memories to each picture (except for my mom's dollhouse we never knew was there), and being willing to give every last piece of her furniture away in exchange for another hug or word or smile. Heck, I'd even take another back-handed compliment or insult. Luckily, I saved a voicemail she left me on New Year's (in 2009, I think) that says, "Hi, it's Grandmother. I just wanted you to know I love you." I wonder if there's a way I can download it and save it forever. I'll have to ask Verizon. And, while I know it's set up to ask every 28 days or so, it always seems to pop up on a day where I really needed to hear her voice. Hmmm, cosmic perhaps? (okay, taking a break...crying again)
GG posts aside (or forthcoming), things at work were a bit tumultuous. Most of it was grant-related so I covered that on my "professional" blog. In short, we should have known in February what the outcome of our submission was. Instead, we were told we would find out in April...for a grant that ends in May. Many people chose the "glass-half-full" viewpoint while I just tried to keep my lunch down, or fight back a panic attack, anytime anyone discussed the delayed review. Then, in April, we were told our score was pretty bad and that we would have to rewrite. (Damn, that stinks.) But wait, it got worse...we had to have it done by June 1.That basically left a month to go through the reviewers responses, see what we can change and (for nearly every team) rewrite our proposals. The good news was that our bridging funds were/are being viewed positively in that there's a chance we'll be okay. (I'm still not completely certain since these were also the "glass-half-full" people)
In the midst of all of that, I attended a symposium in Greece (yet another post to write--just the fun stuff, not the work-stuff, which is already on the prof blog) and got to present not one, not two, but three different presentations. Each of which was invited to be published in a proceedings. I will probably submit one, but that may or may not happen due to potential drama associated with it...still waiting to find out.
But our grant is in, I may write a paper, and I have to prepare another talk and poster. In the mean time, the hubs is writing his dissertation....still...and hoping to finish this summer. The munchkin, well, she's just amazing. Smart. Funny. Caring. Polite. Golly, I love her!
I'm still paying it forward: I worked with my neighbor, Allison, to make bunnies to help fund her trip to Europe and also donated half of every sale. I think we raised about $200 (and if not I'm giving her at least that much). The hair is still long, but will be cut and donated. Oh, yes, it will.
My nephew arrived and brought with him a whole host of uncertainties, but he is now doing well. My cousin, Phil, is not. I was told yesterday he has been given 30 days. Days. I don't know what I would do if someone said I had a month to live. I'd probably make a bucket list like I've been told he is doing. I'll probably do something in his honor, as well. I'm still pondering that.
So prepare for a new flourish in writing (I hope). Lots going on and lots to say. Until then, blessings to you!
GG posts aside (or forthcoming), things at work were a bit tumultuous. Most of it was grant-related so I covered that on my "professional" blog. In short, we should have known in February what the outcome of our submission was. Instead, we were told we would find out in April...for a grant that ends in May. Many people chose the "glass-half-full" viewpoint while I just tried to keep my lunch down, or fight back a panic attack, anytime anyone discussed the delayed review. Then, in April, we were told our score was pretty bad and that we would have to rewrite. (Damn, that stinks.) But wait, it got worse...we had to have it done by June 1.That basically left a month to go through the reviewers responses, see what we can change and (for nearly every team) rewrite our proposals. The good news was that our bridging funds were/are being viewed positively in that there's a chance we'll be okay. (I'm still not completely certain since these were also the "glass-half-full" people)
In the midst of all of that, I attended a symposium in Greece (yet another post to write--just the fun stuff, not the work-stuff, which is already on the prof blog) and got to present not one, not two, but three different presentations. Each of which was invited to be published in a proceedings. I will probably submit one, but that may or may not happen due to potential drama associated with it...still waiting to find out.
But our grant is in, I may write a paper, and I have to prepare another talk and poster. In the mean time, the hubs is writing his dissertation....still...and hoping to finish this summer. The munchkin, well, she's just amazing. Smart. Funny. Caring. Polite. Golly, I love her!
I'm still paying it forward: I worked with my neighbor, Allison, to make bunnies to help fund her trip to Europe and also donated half of every sale. I think we raised about $200 (and if not I'm giving her at least that much). The hair is still long, but will be cut and donated. Oh, yes, it will.
My nephew arrived and brought with him a whole host of uncertainties, but he is now doing well. My cousin, Phil, is not. I was told yesterday he has been given 30 days. Days. I don't know what I would do if someone said I had a month to live. I'd probably make a bucket list like I've been told he is doing. I'll probably do something in his honor, as well. I'm still pondering that.
So prepare for a new flourish in writing (I hope). Lots going on and lots to say. Until then, blessings to you!
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
...add a dash of new adventures
...and my year is off! During my national conference in December, I was inspired by many of the music therapists I have known for several years. They're amazing men and women who are pushing the boundaries and sharing their knowledge with the world. So I decided to throw my hat into the ring, as well. Since I spend so much of my time in the world of research, I decided to see if there was a niche out there for me. *Poof* I have created a new website that will hopefully allow me to share my experiences and (limited) expertise with those who can benefit. And so "Notable Musique" is born. We'll see how long it lasts, but I have had so many ideas going through my mind for posts that I've got at least a few months worth of writing (and lots of drafts saved). This will still be my own, personal site for expression but I think it will be great to have another, more professional outlet. It will take care of some of that "Clutter" I've had building up.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
I'm channeling...
I'm trying to channel my energy to things that are more productive. Of course, I started this months ago, but it's something that's easy to do and it makes me happy, so why not?!
Last year, I went to a meeting for a group called The Preemie Project. Okay, it wasn't really a meeting, but they got together and sewed for the entire weekend. I hadn't had a break in, oh, forever, so I took advantage. We made over 200 blankets and I don't even remember how many sleep sacks, but I think we got close to running out of material. I learned how to do more with my sewing machine and got to spend time with some fabulous women. This year, a call went out for pumpkins. Hats, booties and other fall-flavored items for the mini-munchkins in the NICU. Being, well, me I went nuts. First, I thought I'd try to cross-stitch a bunch of onesies with pumpkins on them and cute phrases. Three hours/nights into the project I realized the chances of me getting more than 2 done before Oct 22 were pretty slim so I started on other pumpkin-themed ideas. I found a pattern for hats and I was off. Once I'd made 18, I tried to find the best way to make booties. That was going to be a bit more of a challenge for me because I didn't want to have to sew them. I wanted to be able to do them quickly. I finally found a pattern---here---and set to work. In total I made 23 hats and 20 pairs of booties; 18 sets to donate, 1 set for a new baby, three pairs of booties for friends. Of course, I failed to take pictures of them all, but I did get a few. Hopefully, I'd get photos of the little ones with their adornments, as well. In the mean time, it takes my mind off of the other things in life that keep me from smiling.
Last year, I went to a meeting for a group called The Preemie Project. Okay, it wasn't really a meeting, but they got together and sewed for the entire weekend. I hadn't had a break in, oh, forever, so I took advantage. We made over 200 blankets and I don't even remember how many sleep sacks, but I think we got close to running out of material. I learned how to do more with my sewing machine and got to spend time with some fabulous women. This year, a call went out for pumpkins. Hats, booties and other fall-flavored items for the mini-munchkins in the NICU. Being, well, me I went nuts. First, I thought I'd try to cross-stitch a bunch of onesies with pumpkins on them and cute phrases. Three hours/nights into the project I realized the chances of me getting more than 2 done before Oct 22 were pretty slim so I started on other pumpkin-themed ideas. I found a pattern for hats and I was off. Once I'd made 18, I tried to find the best way to make booties. That was going to be a bit more of a challenge for me because I didn't want to have to sew them. I wanted to be able to do them quickly. I finally found a pattern---here---and set to work. In total I made 23 hats and 20 pairs of booties; 18 sets to donate, 1 set for a new baby, three pairs of booties for friends. Of course, I failed to take pictures of them all, but I did get a few. Hopefully, I'd get photos of the little ones with their adornments, as well. In the mean time, it takes my mind off of the other things in life that keep me from smiling.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
I did it
I bit the bullet, put my backside in gear and did it.
I finally applied for a teaching job...at a university. Am I freaking out? You bet your sweet bippy I am, but I'm also cautiously optimistic and excited. I want to see what, if anything, will happen and, if there's feedback coming, what it is and what it means and how I can get better. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay with them saying "no" because even if they do, I'm not going to be kicking myself for not trying, for not applying and for not seeing what could be.
The planner inside is the one doing the backflips and saying, "Are you really sure you want to do this? Too late now. You're in for it, girl" and the part of me that so wants to be like Matt, so laid back and relaxed and go-with-the-flow is telling her to shut up and sit down. I like it.
The past few weeks have been more than stressful (and that's an understatement). Any and every little thing could send me into a mental rage, or sad, or lonely. This actually makes me feel like I've taken back the reigns and I'm trying to make not just everyone else happy but ME happy. I've kind of forgotten what that's like, which makes me disappointed in myself. The realization, however, that I've taken back my "power" (as Mom puts it) gives me this inner confidence that I had forgotten was there. I've moved complacency out of the way and I'm back to me (or at least I hope I am) and maybe even a better me. And today? I'm proud of myself.
So I'm going to sit here and pat myself on the back. I know I don't do it enough.
I finally applied for a teaching job...at a university. Am I freaking out? You bet your sweet bippy I am, but I'm also cautiously optimistic and excited. I want to see what, if anything, will happen and, if there's feedback coming, what it is and what it means and how I can get better. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay with them saying "no" because even if they do, I'm not going to be kicking myself for not trying, for not applying and for not seeing what could be.
The planner inside is the one doing the backflips and saying, "Are you really sure you want to do this? Too late now. You're in for it, girl" and the part of me that so wants to be like Matt, so laid back and relaxed and go-with-the-flow is telling her to shut up and sit down. I like it.
The past few weeks have been more than stressful (and that's an understatement). Any and every little thing could send me into a mental rage, or sad, or lonely. This actually makes me feel like I've taken back the reigns and I'm trying to make not just everyone else happy but ME happy. I've kind of forgotten what that's like, which makes me disappointed in myself. The realization, however, that I've taken back my "power" (as Mom puts it) gives me this inner confidence that I had forgotten was there. I've moved complacency out of the way and I'm back to me (or at least I hope I am) and maybe even a better me. And today? I'm proud of myself.
So I'm going to sit here and pat myself on the back. I know I don't do it enough.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Shaken
I've been dealing with a lot of different things this week. We started the project that brought so much frustration. I don't foresee a lot of progress but I will do what I can to help it progress. Matt is applying for jobs and hoping things go well. His buddy, Casey, is apparently on a few short lists at some other schools so that hopefully means the two won't be in competition with each other. Those things have been weighing heavily on my mind, but the biggest thing this week has nothing to do with me. A friend, who was more of an acquaintance until we started bonding via the world of facebook, has been in the hospital with her youngest little one. At 6 weeks old, he has been an inpatient for the last week. He's been having episodes of apnea since the day he was born and it reached a point that caused his docs to send him to my place. The strange part for me is that even though he's not my child and despite his mother's unrelenting faith, on Tuesday I felt my faith being shaken. I felt myself beginning to doubt everything I've always believed and wondering whether God was really there and listening. Afterall, this child is perfect, unblemished. And yet, here he is in a hospital bed, baffling the doctors as they open every door to find the answer. I don't know how to describe the feeling that came over me as I held my own daughter and remembered her time in the NICU. Then, my faith was strong and I was not. This time, I feel like my faith was shaken. But I looked at this mother, this woman who hasn't left her child's side, who has various verses from the Bible written on the board in her son's room to give her strength, hope, support. She inspires me and yet I feel ashamed that my own faith was challenged when she is facing such challenges. I pray every day (nearly constantly for her child) and have even had a night full of dreams where all I did was pray. Perhaps there are lessons to be learned all around this child, not only by the doctors, but by me. Perhaps I need to have her faith or ask for that strength or some semblance of it. All I know is I was astounded as the thoughts passed through my head and yet, I wondered how much of that is from deep within me and how much was just a fleeting insecurity. In the last year, I went through all those "religious" challenges between pretty much everything and my dad. I believed nothing could shake me after that. Clearly, I was wrong.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
To return to writing
I have scrolled through some of my past entries and was surprised that the words I was reading were mine, in a positive way. Although I noticed a trend in some of my most recent posts...I sure like to whine a lot. I think most of it is just trying to get things off my chest and writing them down gets it out of my head and onto a screen where I can read it and finally begin to solve the problem. The other reason is also pretty realistic. I don't think anyone's reading this (besides me), so that makes it really easy and I don't feel like a Debbie Downer.
Having realized that negativity can beget negativity, I'm going to try to be more positive. Call it a delayed New Year's Resolution, if you will. Either way, I want to send out more positive vibes into the world and hope that they return to me.
Work has been my biggest source of stress. I think I'm letting it so that stops now. If I'm frustrated, I need to address the situation and make it better. If I can't, I need to find the one who can. I work hard but there are times I could work harder.
Family is good. Matt's working on his paper and getting closer to finishing by the day. He's applying for real jobs and I am so excited for him. I don't even care where he ends up, I just want him to find a job that makes him happy and fulfilled. I can make do and find something wonderful. You never know, I could end up starting a program for MT wherever he goes. Neala is getting bigger and doing so many amazing things. When she says "I love you" (which comes out as "Wuv U") my heart melts. She's amazing and I can't believe she's mine. I've reached that point where I want another munchkin. I know that I won't get the same type of time with Neala but I think she'd be an excellent big sister and I never want her to be alone. I also realize that our family isn't quite there yet, but the baby-admiration is there. I think it always will be regardless of how big our family is.
My favorite person to discuss is Gma-Hoof. At 92 1/2 she's still mentally strong, but her body is not cooperating with her mental strength. 2bit took her to the doctor yesterday and called me, on the edge of tears. Her kidneys are shutting down. So we immediately scheduled a visit for Neala and me to see her, hopefully before the end. When I talked to 2-ey tonight, she said it might be hard for me because Gma is having spells of nausea during the day. Her kidney function was actually worse than someone who has kidney failure. In short, it's bad. I just hope she can hold out for 3 weeks until we can get there so she can "see her baby."
So I'm baaaaack. I'm going to write more, get my thoughts out and enjoy life.
Having realized that negativity can beget negativity, I'm going to try to be more positive. Call it a delayed New Year's Resolution, if you will. Either way, I want to send out more positive vibes into the world and hope that they return to me.
Work has been my biggest source of stress. I think I'm letting it so that stops now. If I'm frustrated, I need to address the situation and make it better. If I can't, I need to find the one who can. I work hard but there are times I could work harder.
Family is good. Matt's working on his paper and getting closer to finishing by the day. He's applying for real jobs and I am so excited for him. I don't even care where he ends up, I just want him to find a job that makes him happy and fulfilled. I can make do and find something wonderful. You never know, I could end up starting a program for MT wherever he goes. Neala is getting bigger and doing so many amazing things. When she says "I love you" (which comes out as "Wuv U") my heart melts. She's amazing and I can't believe she's mine. I've reached that point where I want another munchkin. I know that I won't get the same type of time with Neala but I think she'd be an excellent big sister and I never want her to be alone. I also realize that our family isn't quite there yet, but the baby-admiration is there. I think it always will be regardless of how big our family is.
My favorite person to discuss is Gma-Hoof. At 92 1/2 she's still mentally strong, but her body is not cooperating with her mental strength. 2bit took her to the doctor yesterday and called me, on the edge of tears. Her kidneys are shutting down. So we immediately scheduled a visit for Neala and me to see her, hopefully before the end. When I talked to 2-ey tonight, she said it might be hard for me because Gma is having spells of nausea during the day. Her kidney function was actually worse than someone who has kidney failure. In short, it's bad. I just hope she can hold out for 3 weeks until we can get there so she can "see her baby."
So I'm baaaaack. I'm going to write more, get my thoughts out and enjoy life.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
So now...
I've had a lot of things going on in my mind. With Matt's recent trip to DC for the Air Force Band audition, I prepared myself to move and start yet another chapter of our lives. Since that didn't work, I feel like I'm rewinding a little and trying to figure out when and if we'll be making plans like that again. He wants to put all of his energy into his recital and get that out of the way and then go from there. In the mean time, my future has been on my mind a lot. I'm not sure what I'll be doing next, but I think that I'd really like to teach. In fact, when I saw a job opening last week in LA, I didn't just skim over the requirements and press delete, I actually read it and have given it some serious thought. My only personal limitations are that I don't think I've had enough teaching experience. The only problem is, I don't really have any avenue for gaining that experience and thus begins my internal dialogue. I'm still trying to figure out the whole PhD thing: what I want to do and if I want to go through with it. I think taking this class this semester will help me have a better idea of whether this is something I want to persue now or wait a while longer. With Matt not knowing what he's going to do or where he's going to do it, I feel like I should continue to think it through.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Update
I haven't written in forever, yet I feel like I've had so much going on in my head that I wanted to write about. I'm completely smitten with my girl, which I guess any mother should be. The transition back to work has been challenging at times, but has gotten better. There are still a few frustrations that I thought would be gone when students left, but they have managed to stick around and make me a little more nuts than I should let them. Still, they'll be over soon enough...I hope. I am excited that I get to see my girl every day and that makes it easier for me to do the full-time gig. Time is really flying by for me. It's hard to believe that a year ago today Matt and I found out Neala was coming. It seems like it wasn't that long ago.
Now I have a list in my head of things I can do one-handed and/or while holding/feeding a baby:
1. send an email
2. browse the internet (with my toes, actually)
3. brush my hair
4. brush my teeth (spitting out the toothpaste without hitting her is the hard part)
5. slice a tomato
6. make sandwich out of aforementioned tomato
7. make a bottle (formula or factory)
8. carve a pumpkin
I know there are more, but that's all I can remember for now. I'm sure I'll update this list as time goes by.
The two of us travelled to St. Louis. I knew it was going to be a test of either stupidity or craziness. Luckily for me, it was the latter. She rode the whole way without any fussiness and was a huge hit with all the ladies in attendance and got lots of love. Even the employees in the hotel restaurant wanted to take turns holding her. Not such a bad thing when they only option is a buffet. I haven't been able to add that to my list of one-handed tricks...yet.
My brain has stopped functioning. Time for bed (yes, it's early).
Blessings to you all!
gin
Now I have a list in my head of things I can do one-handed and/or while holding/feeding a baby:
1. send an email
2. browse the internet (with my toes, actually)
3. brush my hair
4. brush my teeth (spitting out the toothpaste without hitting her is the hard part)
5. slice a tomato
6. make sandwich out of aforementioned tomato
7. make a bottle (formula or factory)
8. carve a pumpkin
I know there are more, but that's all I can remember for now. I'm sure I'll update this list as time goes by.
The two of us travelled to St. Louis. I knew it was going to be a test of either stupidity or craziness. Luckily for me, it was the latter. She rode the whole way without any fussiness and was a huge hit with all the ladies in attendance and got lots of love. Even the employees in the hotel restaurant wanted to take turns holding her. Not such a bad thing when they only option is a buffet. I haven't been able to add that to my list of one-handed tricks...yet.
My brain has stopped functioning. Time for bed (yes, it's early).
Blessings to you all!
gin
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Just blah
Talk about a 180 from yesterday. Today I am experiencing a combination of many emotions: happiness, frustration, anxiety, apathy, sadness to name a few.
Yesterday, one of my coworkers had a beautiful little girl. We anxiously watched their blog all day as they posted various progressions (and non-progressions) throughout the labor. It was wonderful and I was so excited for them. Their little girl arrived at almost 8 p.m. and I was so elated for their new, beautiful, health addition to their family. But almost as quickly as I celebrated for them, I felt a huge sadness come over me (with a bit of pre-emtpive jealousy). While I am so very happy for these 2 amazing people, I ache to have a little one of my own and it's not just the "oh, I 'd like to have a baby one day" kind of feeling. It almost feels like a need to have one. I don't think my life will be any more "complete" perse, I just have an innate feeling to be a mother, to have a little one. And, as more and more of my friends have children and I watch them together, I feel such an emptiness that I can't completely explain.
Work has been a bit frustrating, too, but in a different way than I'm used to experiencing. I'm starting to get more of the beaureaucratic stuff, I loathe. I'm always one who is willing to bend, willing to adapt to help others. But with one of our new projects, we're delving into new territory and I have begun to feel as though some others see my research as inferior. I have actually been involved in a conversation where someone teetered on the edge of the phrase "my research is more important," but it was quickly averted. Right now, I'm just blah and no matter how much I pull on my bootstraps, they just keep stretching...
Yesterday, one of my coworkers had a beautiful little girl. We anxiously watched their blog all day as they posted various progressions (and non-progressions) throughout the labor. It was wonderful and I was so excited for them. Their little girl arrived at almost 8 p.m. and I was so elated for their new, beautiful, health addition to their family. But almost as quickly as I celebrated for them, I felt a huge sadness come over me (with a bit of pre-emtpive jealousy). While I am so very happy for these 2 amazing people, I ache to have a little one of my own and it's not just the "oh, I 'd like to have a baby one day" kind of feeling. It almost feels like a need to have one. I don't think my life will be any more "complete" perse, I just have an innate feeling to be a mother, to have a little one. And, as more and more of my friends have children and I watch them together, I feel such an emptiness that I can't completely explain.
Work has been a bit frustrating, too, but in a different way than I'm used to experiencing. I'm starting to get more of the beaureaucratic stuff, I loathe. I'm always one who is willing to bend, willing to adapt to help others. But with one of our new projects, we're delving into new territory and I have begun to feel as though some others see my research as inferior. I have actually been involved in a conversation where someone teetered on the edge of the phrase "my research is more important," but it was quickly averted. Right now, I'm just blah and no matter how much I pull on my bootstraps, they just keep stretching...
Friday, September 21, 2007
Yeah, Friday
I am so glad today is Friday, I could sing it from the rooftops. This week has been good and challenging and busy. I had a moment of pouting yesterday (internally, of course) when my ego was bruised, but I've moved on and gotten over myself. Today, I rebounded with lots of productivity; I finished writing a new computer program for our research team, tested a few people for one of our newer studies (yeah for "normals"), and got everything together for me to be gone. I've decided that I am tired of waiting for feedback that will never come and am going to submit my first article and begin my second one.
Tomorrow I head out to Hky to "take care" of Mom. Turns out she has some plans for me that include keeping her cigar business in order (Matt has already given me orders of what to bring home for him), having a pizza party with her buddy, Joan, and taking her to the doctor. I plan on having a little talk with her doc about prescribing ototoxic meds for her, which, even in small doses, caused some tinnitus. Wanna be how long it takes me to ask him to request an audiogram?
I also started an online course on PHP and SQL on Wednesday, which I am excited to use to turn my Master's project into a more functional, user-friendly version for our patients. I'm in a class full of programmers, tech support people, and web designers. Yeah, I'm the outsider, but I'm excited to have such a large resource from which to draw. It's a wonderful day and I can't complain; I won't complain.
I hope your day is just as good!
Happy Weekend!
Tomorrow I head out to Hky to "take care" of Mom. Turns out she has some plans for me that include keeping her cigar business in order (Matt has already given me orders of what to bring home for him), having a pizza party with her buddy, Joan, and taking her to the doctor. I plan on having a little talk with her doc about prescribing ototoxic meds for her, which, even in small doses, caused some tinnitus. Wanna be how long it takes me to ask him to request an audiogram?
I also started an online course on PHP and SQL on Wednesday, which I am excited to use to turn my Master's project into a more functional, user-friendly version for our patients. I'm in a class full of programmers, tech support people, and web designers. Yeah, I'm the outsider, but I'm excited to have such a large resource from which to draw. It's a wonderful day and I can't complain; I won't complain.
I hope your day is just as good!
Happy Weekend!
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